A Scatter of Stardust Read Online Free PDF Page A

wanted to think of him as a thing then that was all right by Chris — provided the demon brought home the bacon.
    The bacon, naturally, being that which would enable Chris to live the sort of life to which he wanted to become accustomed.
    He wasn’t greedy, not more than normal, that is, but when a man is given the opportunity of getting everything and anything he wants then he can’t refuse. If he could then he wouldn’t be a man, he’d be a saint. And a saint, by definition, wouldn’t be sitting in a modern, self-service apartment chatting conversationally with a real, live demon.
    Chris didn’t let the involved logic confuse him. He’d lost his initial fear of his guest. The demon, on closer acquaintance, seemed somewhat dumb, little better than a moron, certainly no match for an intelligent, sharp-witted product of the twentieth century commercial rat race. Striking a bargain with the visitor seemed, to Chris, to be about equal to the difficulty of stealing candy from a one-day-old baby. But even so he proceeded with due caution.
    “It is true, isn’t it, that you cannot possibly escape from the pentagram while it remains intact?” The ancient parchment had said so but Chris wanted to be sure.
    “That’s right.” The fact didn’t seem to worry the demon. “Now don’t you get any bright ideas about breaking it,” he warned. “If you do I’ll come after you, snatch you up and fling you into an eternal furnace.”
    “Bunk,” said Chris. “Who are you trying to scare?”
    “You don’t believe me?” The demon seemed abashed. “But it’s true.”
    “How do you know?” Chris rose and stepped toward the chalked design. “I’ve been thinking about this and I’ve a notion all this snatching away business is plain propaganda. Let’s just break the pentagram and find out, shall we?”
    “Don’t do that!” The demon was upset. “Please! If you do then you’ll ... “
    “I’ll kill you?” Chris nodded, satisfied. “I thought so. The old-timers were too scared to be able to think straight. They called you up and then sweated blood thinking up ways and means to control you. It should have been obvious that you were more afraid of them than they were of you.”
    “That isn’t so,” protested the demon. “Some of them were practically petrified. Why I remember one old man, Nostradamus I think he called himself, who almost threw a fit when he saw me.” Talons gleamed in the electric light. “I was treated with respect in those days.”
    “That’s finished with,” snapped Chris. “I’m your boss now and don’t you forget it. One peep out of you and I’ll break the pentagram and let you suffer.” He resumed his chair, feeling a warm, inner glow of satisfaction. It was one thing to think that you were right but quite another to know it. Chris knew that he had the demon by the short hairs, if he had short hairs to have him by, that was.
    “Smart guy,” sneered the demon, but he was beaten and he knew it. “Well, let’s get on with it. What do you want and what do you offer for it?”
    “Not so fast.” Chris had no intention of being rushed. “Let’s swap a little information first. Want anything to eat? Drink?”
    “I could use some more tobacco,” confessed the demon. “I’ve kinda caught the habit.”
    *
    Chris dug out a box of cigars he’d been given for a Christmas present and never touched. “Try these, they’ll last longer.” He found a bottle of whiskey he’d been saving for an emergency; he’d been saving it for all of a week now and an emergency was long overdue. He opened it, took a sip, felt the impact of the demon’s eyes. “Try some of this,” he suggested. He found a tumbler and filled it with the golden spirit. “Stoke up your fires a bit. Here.” He placed it together with the cigars just within the pentagram. His skin burned a little as he withdrew his hand.
    “Thanks,” said the demon, he seemed mollified by Chris’s desire to please. A warty