for the native village. The natives, having gathered their courage, had returned to peer at us. They uttered apotropaic phrases as their Master went by.
âHis is the Hand that Maims.â¦
âHis is the Head that Blames.â¦
âHis is the Whip that Tames.â¦â
Beyond the little ragged village lay the lagoon. The road skirted it, winding past its tranquil green waters to buildings glimpsed through trees. Beyond everything was a steep hill, its gray cliffs looming above the jungle. However mean the affairs of men, Nature had added a note of grandeur.
It was impossible to keep up with the great mechanical strides of the self-styled Master. I lagged farther and farther behind. There was a gang of natives working on the far side of the lagoon, where I observed a mobile crane; they stopped work to stare at us.
My vision began to waver as I moved uphill. A stockade of tall and rusty metal posts stood here. The top of the stockade was decorated with barbed wire, strand after entangled strand of it. The Master halted at a narrow gate in the wall, stooping awkwardly to unlock it. I heard tumblers click back. He turned a wheel, the gate swung open, and he passed in. As soon as I had followed him, he pushed the gate shut and locked it from the inside.
Weakness overcame me. I fell to one knee.
âBella!â he called, ignoring me.
I rose again, making my way forward as a strange figure came out of a building toward us. It was wearing a dress. Itâno, she, Bella, had the short deformed legs common to most of the other islanders. Her skin was a dull pink. Her face was as hideous as Georgeâs and his fellowsâ, although her eyes were curiouslyâlambent, I believe the word is. They seemed to glow and had an oriental cast. She would not look directly at me, although she approached readily enough while listening to what the Master was telling her.
To my surprise, she came straight up to me and attempted to lift me off my feet. I felt a sort of nervous thrill at her embrace. Then I collapsed.
My senses never entirely left me. I was aware of strange faces about me, and of being carried into a shadowy room. Something cool was placed on my forehead. Water was poured into my mouth; I could hardly swallow, and the cup was taken away. Then my eyes were bandaged. I lay without volition as expert hands ran over my body and I was given a thorough examination. These were things that hardly registered at the time, although they came back to me afterward.
When I finally roused, the bandage was off my eyes. I lay naked under a sheet and felt refreshed. As I propped myself up on one elbow, I saw that an ointment to soothe my sunburns had been applied to my chest and face. The woman called Bella sat hunched in one corner of the room. Her eyes flashed greenly at me as she turned her head.
âYouâfeel okay now?â
âI think so.â
âYou like whisky?â
âThanks, but I donât drink.â
âNo drink? You drink water.â
âI meant that I donât drink whisky.â
She stared motionlessly at me. She had short dark hair. I wondered if it was a wig. She had a nose that resembled a catâs muzzle.
âThanks for seeing me through, Bella. I was in a bad way. Just reaction.â
âI tell Master.â She slunk away, hardly opening the door enough to get through, closing it directly she was through it. Decidedly feline.
The room took on new proportions as soon as she had gone. My body felt extremely light. Well, I said to myself, thatâs how it is, here on the Moon. You mustnât expect reality. Reality here is only one-sixth of what it is on Earth.
Without any sense of effort, I climbed out of bed and found it was easy to stand on my two feet if I stretched out my arms for balance. Being naked made things much easier. I floated over to my one unglazed window. No glass: but of course there were no minerals on the Moon.
â M for Moon,â
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley