Free Shakespeare's Planet by Clifford D. Simak Page A

He was always grunting at me. Grunt meant leave him be, do not pester him.”
    â€œYou have this book of his?”
    â€œI’ll show it to you later.”
    The steak was done, and Horton fell to eating.
    â€œThis is good,” he said. “What kind of animal?”
    â€œNot too big,” siad Carnivore. “Not hard to kill. Does not try to fight. Get away is all. But toothsome. Many animals for meat, but this one most tasty of them all.”
    Nicodemus came stumping up the path, toolbox clutched in hand. He sat down beside Horton.
    â€œBefore you ask,” he said, “I haven’t got it fixed.”
    â€œBut progress made?” asked Carnivore.
    â€œI don’t know,” said Nicodemus. “I think I know how I may be able to get the force field disconnected, although I can’t be sure. It is worth at least a try. Mostly I’ve been trying to figure out what’s behind that force field. I drew all sorts of sketches and I tried some diagramming to gain an understanding of what it’s all about. I have some ideas there, as well, but it all goes for nothing if I can’t get the force shield off. And I may be wrong, of course, about everything.”
    â€œNot discouraged though?”
    â€œNo, I’ll keep on trying.”
    â€œThat is good,” said Carnivore.
    He swallowed the last hunk of his dripping gob of meat.
    â€œI go down to spring,” he said, “and wash my face. I am sloppy eater. You wish I wait for you?”
    â€œNo,” said Horton. “I’ll go down a little later. I still have eaten only half the steak.”
    â€œYou excuse me, please,” said Carnivore, getting to his feet. The other two sat watching him as he went loping down the trail.
    â€œHow did it go?” asked Nicodemus.
    Horton shrugged. “There’s a deserted village of sorts just east of here. Stone buildings overgrown with brush. No one’s been there for centuries, from the looks of it. Nothing to show why they might have been here, or why they might have left. Carnivore says Shakespeare thinks it may have been a penal colony. If so, a neat way of doing it. With the tunnel inoperative, there’d be no need to fret about escapes.”
    â€œDoes Carnivore know what kind of people?”
    â€œHe doesn’t know. I don’t think he cares. He has no real curiosity. The here and now is all that interests him. Besides, he’s afraid of it. The past seems to terrify him. My guess is they were humanoids—not necessarily people as we think of them. I went into one of the buildings and found some kind of bottle. Thought it was a vase at first, but I guess it is a bottle.”
    He reached down beside him and handed the bottle to Nicodemus. The robot turned it over and over in his hands.
    â€œCrude,” he said. “The pictures may be only approximately representational. Hard to tell what they represent. Some of this stuff looks like writing.”
    Horton nodded. “All true, but it means they had some idea of art. That could argue a culture on the move.”
    â€œNot good enough,” said Nicodemus, “to account for the sophisticated technology of the tunnels.”
    â€œI didn’t mean to imply these were the people who built the tunnels.”
    â€œHas Carnivore said anything further about joining us when we leave?”
    â€œNo. Apparently he is confident you can fix the tunnel.”
    â€œPerhaps it’s best not to tell him, but I’m not. I never saw such a mess as that control panel.”
    Carnivore came waddling up the path.
    â€œAll clean now,” he said. “I see you’re finished. How did you like the meat?”
    â€œIt was excellent,” said Horton.
    â€œTomorrow we’ll have fresh meat.”
    â€œWe’ll bury the meat left over while you are on the hunt,” said Horton.
    â€œNo need to bury it. Dump it in the pond. Holding nose most securely in process of