THE MAN THE SUN GODS MADE
By GARDNER F. FOX
They called him a god and worshipped him.
He neither ate nor drank, nor breathed the
wild free air, yet he was mighty beyond
belief. But grief bowed those superbly-muscled
shoulders, for he knew he was human.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Winter 1946.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Tyr stood on the warm white sands and stretched. The hot yellow rays ofthe sun played across his ribbed chest and the muscles in his long legsand thick arms. Tyr smiled. It was good to be alive, even if he was agod.
He wondered when they would come to worship him again, sending thebittersweet keening of the suota-horns out across the silver desertsand blue lakes of Lyallar. He hoped it would be soon, for he had,despite himself, grown to like sitting on the ruby throne. From wherehe stood, looking across the groined vastness of the Lord Chamber,he could see the upturned faces of his people. Even the rat-face ofOtho he liked at moments like those, for the wondrously beautiful faceof Fay smiled red-lipped at him. Tyr gave many gifts to Fay from thetreasures that the Lyallar heaped upon him. And always it seemed shewas eager for more, her brown eyes flickering like those of a greedychild.
Tyr spread his arms, feeling millions of tiny nerve-ends in his skinopen to drink in the energy pouring from the titanic orb of fire inthe heavens that was sun to the planet Lyallar. Tyr ate no food, andbreathed no air. All that he needed for his existence he got from thesun.
As the energy flooded into him, making him tingle in every fibre of hisbeing, Tyr felt again the effect of that energy on his brain. It wasas though the power he fed on was so great that it opened the deeperspaces of his mind so that any problem was no problem at all—while themoment lasted.
He had found the stone tower in a moment like that. Seen it at firstmiles away, standing lone and stark on the silver sand. Built ofbrownish rock, round as the bole of a tree, it was something new to himwho had explored all the strange places of this planet. Tyr had run toit, testing his swift feet. He could have distanced a dozen cheetahs,one after another, could Tyr. He was more than swift. He was inhuman.
The lock was easy to break with all that energy flooding him. He merelytook it in his big hands and his muscles writhed and bulged, and theflaky red metal of the lock snapped. With the flat of a hand he pushedopen the door and went within. It was dim and cool inside, and at firstTyr did not like it.
There were queer objects all about him, some of glass, some of metal.Here were curves and cones and vibrating rods of the thickness ofa man's little finger. And books! Even the libraries of the Tryllacontained no books such as these. He lifted one down and browsed, andfound that his mind was understanding it, knowing what those terms andsymbols meant, without thinking. His mind frightened Tyr at times. Itwas almost not a part of him. It was as though all the men and womenwho had been his forebears had left a little something of themselves inhis makeup, so that their knowledge and experience could guide theirdescendant.
Many hours Tyr spent in that odd place. It was a change from thedeserts and the ruby throne. Gradually, through the years, he foundthat he was amassing an education from the books and the glass andmetal objects—
Suu-ohhh-taaaa!
The clarion notes rang sweet and clear. They brought Tyr erect, thepeculiar ring chained to his neck bouncing on his chest. He lookedtoward the dim horizon, where stood Yawarta, city of the ruby thr