James McKimmey

“ She began dancing again, her skirt swirling over the bricks of the patio.
Mr. Kenington's voice was louder. "I think we understand, all right, George. There isn't anything about this we don't understand!"
George's lips were paling.
His sister dipped and turned. "We could call it a Music In The Head dance. Everybody brings his own head!" She laughed merrily. "My God!"
George noticed then that Gistla was disappearing out of the rear gate. He stood, clenching his fists and glaring at his family. His sister had stopped dancing but she was still laughing. ”

“ GISTLA By JAMES McKIMMEY, Jr.
"Why don't you find yourself some nice little American girl," his father had often repeated. But George was on Venus ... and he loved pale green skin ... and globular heads and most of all, George loved Gistla.
George Kenington was sixteen, and, as he told himself, someone who was sixteen knew more about love than someone who was, say, forty-two. Like his father, for instance. A whole lot more probably. When you were forty-two, you got narrow-minded and nervous and angry. ”

“ He would then be expected to forget about this odd creature and find himself a nice ignorant little Colony girl, whose father was a member of the Governing circle.
"And to hell with that, too," George said.
"What?" George heard Gistla say. He turned quickly. She was standing at the edge of the clearing, her round green eyes looking soft and serious. She wore the usual gray cape that reached her ankles. Her voice was a deep round sound, and there was hardly any accent in the words she had learned so quickly since the Colony had begun.
"Talking to myself," George grinned. ”

“ Mr. Kenington was saying rather impatiently. "Does he play something like our violin or clarinet or oboe, or what?" His father, George had noticed, was becoming impatient more frequently since he had become Secretary. The Secretarial post was very important.
"He does not play anything," Gistla said carefully. "He just ... makes the music and I hear it."
"But how?" Mr. Kenington insisted. "What does he play the music on? He certainly can't make the music without using something to make it on."
Gistla glanced again at George and he said quickly, "It's pretty hard to understand, Father. ”

“ Certainly there wasn't a decent-looking girl in the whole Governing circle, and the sight of a girl with flashing eyes and a nice red mouth, who was shaped a little like something besides a tree stump, was indeed an exciting sight. ”

“ This etext was produced from Planet Stories January 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note. ”