Stephen Marlowe

“ Later, a completely beaten Mulveen, his face swathed in bandages, counted out the credits. "Make it ten thousand," Gilbert told him. "Five thousand for Wenzi."
Mulveen counted out ten thousand credits. "But you'll have to lead us back to civilization," he said.
Gilbert looked at Arnaud. "He will," Gilbert told Mulveen. "I'm not a guide now. I'm a man. An Earthman."
Mulveen looked at him. Mulveen did not smile. Something in Mulveen's face, in his eyes, spoke clearly of the day when Earthmen would regain their heritage. Mulveen was afraid.
Gilbert took Wenzi's hand and walked off into the swamp. ”

“ Mulveen said. "I'll come for you in the morning."
"Come for me...?"
"Come hunting, Gilbert. I've never hunted a human being before. On Earth I think I can get away with it. Well, can't I?"
Gilbert felt his pulses hammering. It was a drunken impulse, but Mulveen would go through with it. Gilbert was, despite his age, an expert guide. Mulveen was a crack hunter. Five thousand credits....
"To the death?" Gilbert asked. ”

“ Gilbert said.
Mulveen whined: "Don't! Please, you've earned the money. The money is yours!"
He could kill Mulveen, yes—but would one of the Earthmen of the islands, the real Earthmen, have done that? They would have been content with victory—and with shaming the outworlder Mulveen in front of the beaters and trackers.
"Don't come back to Earth," Gilbert said. "Ever. We don't want you here. Put that in writing too."
"I will. I will, I swear!" Mulveen was cowering.
Arnaud came to them, smiling. "Great work, Gil—" he began. Gilbert hit him and the tracker went sprawling in the mud. ”

“ Then the saurian came down, crashing through the brakes. There was only a trickle of blood, but the bullet, like a Dum-Dum of three hundred years before, had exploded inside the monster's head, the minute atomic charge destroying everything within the thick bone walls of the skull but leaving skull and metal-tough skin intact. ”

“ Gilbert told Wenzi, "yes. But only for that."
"Do you have any plans?" Arnaud asked as they settled on the hillock.
Gilbert thought about it. They would need a plan, all right. It was what the animals of Earth lacked. The ability to plan, to rationally pursue their survival. And so the animals of Earth never had a chance.
"Mulveen will probably stalk us in the morning," Gilbert said. "We'll have to move fast. We'll be able to move faster than Mulveen because he'll be tracking us. We can circle around behind him—while he still believes himself behind us." ”

“ Gilbert smiled grimly. "The Earth government—such as it is—considers extra-terrestrials too civilized to commit crimes. Also, extra-terrestrial hunters are responsible for most of Earth's income. This is a poor planet, Mr. Mulveen: civilization and then the attempt to keep up with civilization, has drained it."
"You know a lot for a kid."
"But that isn't what I'm getting five thousand credits for."
"Here," Mulveen said. He gave Gilbert one of the rifles, which had been cleaned during supper by the boys. He gave Gilbert a cartridge belt. ”

“ Once it floundered off the trail in darkness, splashing. It came on again. It paused, making a sniffing sound. An animal? A swamp-hog, perhaps? It sounded about the right size and bulk—but so would a man....
Gilbert brought the rifle up. A dark shadow stirred. "Stop!" Gilbert commanded. "You're in my sights. I can kill you."
"Gil!" a voice implored.
Gilbert dropped the rifle and let it swing on the shoulder thong.
"Arnaud," he said. "I could have shot you." Arnaud was the safari's chief beater and second in command to Gilbert.
"Mulveen told me what he was doing," Arnaud said. ”

“ Gilbert recognized Wenzi's voice. Wenzi was one of the beaters, an aloofly quiet boy who had kept to himself all during the safari, and who, Gilbert remembered, wore far too much clothing for the warm, sticky weather.
Gilbert got up, holding Wenzi's elbow. Wenzi said, "I heard what the master and you said. I came."
"But why?" Gilbert demanded. "Don't tell me you think I'll beat Mulveen?"
"No," said Wenzi glumly. "Mulveen will win. But I was afraid."
"Of what?"
"Before the hunt this morning," Wenzi said, "I went down to the stream to wash. I went alone."
"You always go alone," Gilbert said. ”

“ Gilbert thought, if I'm dead I won't need the credits, but if I live, if I win, those credits can buy me a new way of life....
Five thousand credits....
"Can I fight back?" Gilbert heard himself asking.
"Does an animal? Of course you can. I'll also put in writing that you're not responsible in the event of my death. What do you say, boy? What do you say?"
The swamp smell was thick on the still, heavy air of night. Insects buzzed and sawed off in the darkness. Mulveen was breathing heavily, impatiently, consumed by the fires of his idea. "Well?" ”