Avon Fantasy Reader No. 12 — page 64: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“That something is watching—and not liking what it sees.” He glanced quickly over his shoulder, then continued, as if seeking to reassure them both. “Nothing in that corner, of course, except the aquarium. “What's the latest tenantry there?” Lu asked, glad to change the disquieting subject. “Some Scotch water plants—new laboratory project.” Cannon was at ease the moment his hobby came into the conversation. “They arrived this afternoon in a sealed tin box. Doctor MacKenzie’s letter says they were gathered from the Pool Kelp, wherever that is in his highland wildernesscs. Tm letting them scale and wash overnight. In the morning I'll begin experimenting.” Lu sipped more brandy, her eyes interested. “Pool Kelp,” she re- peated, “It sounds seaweedy.” “But these are fresh-water growths. As I say, I never heard of the pool before.” Cannon broke off. “Here, though, why talk botany when we can——” His lips abruptly smothered hers, his arms gathered her so close as to bruise her. But even as she yielded happily to his embrace the tcle- phone rang loudly in the front entry. Cannon released her with a muttered curse of impatience, rose and hurried out to answer. He closed the door behind him, and his voice, mufHled and indistinct, sounded aggrieved as he spoke into the transmitter. Lu, finishing her brandy alone, picked up the drink Cannon had set down. As she lifted it to her lips she glanced idly over the rim of the glass at the moist tangle in the aquarium. In the dim light it seemed to fall into al] manner of rich greens—darkest emerald, beryl, malachite, olive, grass, lettuce. Something moved, too, filliped and swerved in the heart of the little submerged grove. Cannon was still talking. Lu rose, adiak in hand, to stroll curiously toward the big glass box. As she did so the moving trifle seemed to glide upward toward the surface. Coming closer yet, Lu paused to peer in the half-light. A fish? If so, a very green fish and a very small one—perhaps a tad- pole. A bubble broke audibly on top of the water. Lu, genuinely inter- ested, bent closer, just as something rose through the little ripples and hooked its tip on the rim of the aquarium. It was a tiny, spinach-colored hand. Half a second later another fringe of tiny fingers appeared, clutch- ing the rim in turn. Lu, woodenly motionless, eared | in her effort to rationalize. She could see the tiny digits, each tapering and flexible, each armed with a jet-colored claw. Through the glass, under and be- hind the fingers, she made out thumbs—deft, opposable thumbs—and smooth, wet palms of a dead, oystery gray. Her breath caught in mute, helpless astonishment. A blunt head rose slowly into view behind and 62 comichbooks.com