Shakespeare's Planet Read Online Free

of a planet.”
    â€œHow the hell,” blurted Horton, startled, “do you know our language?”
    â€œI learned it all from Shakespeare,” said the creature. “Shakespeare taught it to me. But Shakespeare now is dead, and I miss him greatly. I am desolate without him.”
    â€œBut Shakespeare is a very ancient man and I do not understand …”
    â€œNot an ancient one at all,” the creature said, “although not really young, and he had a sickness in him. He described himself as human. He looked very much like you. I take it you are human, too, but the other is not human, although it has human aspects.”
    â€œYou are right,” said Nicodemus. “I am not a human. I am the next best thing to human. I am a human’s friend.”
    â€œThen that is fine,” said the creature, happily. “That is fine indeed. For I was that to Shakespeare. The best friend he ever had, he said. I surely miss the Shakespeare. I admire him very greatly. He could do many things. One thing he could not do was to learn my language. So perforce I must learn his. He told me about great carriers that go noisily through space. So when I hear you coming, I hurry very fast, hoping that it be some of Shakespeare’s people coming.”
    Horton said to Nicodemus. “There is something very wrong here. Man could not be this far out in space. Ship fooled around, of course, slowing down for planets and it took a lot of time. But we’re close to a thousand light-years out …”
    â€œEarth by now,” said Nicodemus, “may have faster ships, going many times the speed of light. Many of such ships may have overleaped us as we crawled along. So, peculiar as it may seem …”
    â€œYou talk of ships,” the creature said. “Shakespeare talk of them as well but he need no ship. Shakespeare come by tunnel.”
    â€œNow, look here,” said Horton, a trifle exasperated, “try to talk some sense. What is this tunnel business?”
    â€œYou mean you do not know of tunnel that runs among the stars?”
    â€œI’ve never heard of it,” said Horton.
    â€œLet’s back up,” said Nicodemus, “and try to get another start. I take it you are a native of this planet.”
    â€œNative?”
    â€œYes, native. You belong here. This is your home planet. You were born here.”
    â€œNever,” said the creature, most emphatically. “I would not urinate upon this planet could I avoid it. I would not stay a small time-unit could I get away. I came hurriedly to bargain outward passage with you when you leave.”
    â€œYou came as Shakespeare did? By tunnel?”
    â€œOf course, by tunnel. How otherwise I get here?”
    â€œThen leaving should be simple. Go to the tunnel and depart by it.”
    â€œI cannot,” the creature wailed. “The damn tunnel does not work. It has gone haywire. It works only one way. It brings you here, but does not take you back.”
    â€œBut you said a tunnel to the stars. I gained the impression it goes to many stars.”
    â€œTo more than the mind can count, but here it need repair. Shakespeare try and I try, but we cannot fix it. Shakespeare pound upon it with his fists, he kick it with his feet, he yell at it, calling terrible names. Still it does not work.”
    â€œIf you are not of this planet,” said Horton, “perhaps you’ll tell us what you are.”
    â€œThat is simply said. I am a carnivore. You know carnivore?”
    â€œYes. The eater of other forms of life.”
    â€œI am a carnivore,” the creature said, “and satisfied to be one. Proud of being one. There be among the stars those who look with disdain and horror upon carnivore. They say, mistakenly, it is not right to eat one’s fellow beings. They say it be cruel to do so, but I tell you there is no cruelty. Quick death. Clean death. No suffering at all. Better than sickness and