The Stars My Destination

by Alfred Bester

Foyle stared at the old man, took a step toward him, and then stopped, fists clenched, throat working as fury arose within him. And Jisbella, looking at Foyle, cried out in horror. The old tattooing had returned to his face, blood red against the pallor of the skin, scarlet instead of black, truly a tiger mask in color as well as design. “Gully!” she cried. “My God! Your face!” Foyle ignored her and stood glaring at J♂seph while the old man made beseeching gestures, motioned to them to enter the interior of the asteroid, and then disappeared. Only then did Foyle turn to Jisbella and ask: “What? What did you say?” Through the clear globe of the helmet she could see his face distinctly. And as the rage within Foyle died away, Jisbella saw the blood-red tattooing fade and disappear. “Did you see that joker?” Foyle demanded. “That was J♂seph. Did you see him begging and pleading after what he did to me…? What did you say?” “Your face, Gully. I know what’s happened to your face.” “What are you talking about?” “You wanted something that would control you, Gully. Well, you’ve got it. Your face. It—” Jisbella began to laugh hysterically. “You’ll have to learn control now, Gully. You’ll never be able to give way to emotion…any emotion…because—”