Part 2

From the box in which Pearce and I had kept them, I took the gems. Then I left the ship, first having made certain that none of the butterfly-creatures were near, and with a large rock pounded each and every one of the gems to bits.

I was finishing this task when Pearce returned. He stared at me and asked:

"Why, what in the world have you been doing?"

I pulled my machine-pistol from its holster, pointed it at him, and explained. I couldn't have taken any chances with Pearce. I knew what his reaction would be. I wasn't wrong.

He seemed to go mad. His face darkened with a terrible, overwhelming fury. "Lies! All lies!" he shrieked. "It's just a plot to trick me out of my share."

I tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't listen to me. He shouted down my attempts with unspeakable profanity. My machine-pistol was the only thing that kept him from tearing at me like an insensate beast.

I was trying to get Pearce to calm down when several butterfly-creatures suddenly darted toward us. They had evidently been circling nearer and nearer while we talked, seizing the opportunity presented by our inattention.

My eyes jerked to the things instinctively--and as I did so, Pearce leaped toward me. In pure reaction, I squeezed the trigger. The stream of tungsten-steel pellets stopped him like a wall. Even if I'd had the time to deliberate consciously over whether or not to shoot, it wouldn't have ended any other way. For if Pearce had reached me, a struggle would have followed which would have enabled the butterfly-creatures to attack us.

Just an instant ahead of the butterfly-creatures, I jumped into the ship and sealed the port. After resting for a while, I set out on the return to Earth.

I told the authorities my story in full, holding nothing back. They asked me to make this statement for their official records. There are, of course, no charges against me. I should not have admitted to killing Pearce had I been guilty of a crime. But I fear that the shadow of suspicion will lay over me until another expedition returns from Venus and verifies my words.

And in late Spring, when the cocoons open and the butterflies emerge, I will always think of a similar season on Venus, when a similar event occurs. When the crimson gems break open with a thin, tinkling sound, and the exquisite, deadly butterfly-creatures flutter forth....