nned his complete space
suit, in order to impress them the more, then stalked into the middle of
them, and said, "Pick up all your possessions and follow me."

They stared at him, and he showed them what he meant by picking up the
belongings of one household in his gloved hands, and handing them to a
waiting woman. Then, when they had grasped the idea and were gathering
all they owned, he led them toward the safety of the trees. Five minutes
after they had set off, the lava began to flow from the new-born
volcano, scorching the ground for a hundred yards around, sparks smoking
and smoldering in the treetops.

The head start he had given them was enough to help them escape the
resultant forest fire. All that day they traveled, until finally they
came to a forest which couldn't burn, and here they rested. And here
they settled down to build their lives anew.

It must have been a comfort to know that a god had led them to safety
and was helping them make the new start. Bradley helped them with his
gun, which blasted dangerous beasts, and even more with his slightly
superior knowledge. He showed them how to fashion tools from stone and
how to use these to build better huts. He taught them how to make swords
and other weapons, so that henceforth they wouldn't be forced to rely
for defense on poison alone. He was the most industrious god since
Vulcan. And in helping them he found that he had no time for Aoooya.

Came the day when the new village settled down to its changed routine of
life. The morning ceremony before his new shrine had just been
completed, but Bradley was not satisfied. Something was wrong. Yanyoo's
demeanor, Aoooya's--

With a shock, Bradley realized what it was. From old Yanyoo down the
line, none of the natives seemed to have their original fear of him.
There was respect, there was affection, certainly, but the respect and
affection were those due an older brother rather than a god.

And he was not displeased. Being a god had been a wearying business.
Being a friend might be a great deal more pleasant. Yes, the change was
something to be happy about.

* * * * *

But he had little time to be happy. For that same morning, there came
what he had so long dreaded. Out of a clear, shipless sky, Malevski
appeared, strolling toward him as casually as if he had been there all
along, and said, "Nice little ceremony you have here."

"Hello, Malevski. Don't give me the credit.