TEMPTRESS OF PLANET DELIGHT By B. CURTIS A sears-monkey flew to vend his wares On a planet strangely groomed. Lo and behold, he lost all his cares As the genetic experiment bloomed. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories May 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] When the alarm signalled the first whiff of the atmosphere of the next planet on his route, Herl Hofner stopped chinning by his strapping six-foot self and left the little gym. Slipping into the swivel chair at the desk he clipped the pile of loose papers into an empty niche at the side of the desk, spun the chair around to the instrument panel of the _Krylla_. Dialing with his left hand, he swept the bank for incoming signals while his right hand adjusted the microphone frequencies. "Class M-for-Mary ship requesting permission to land. Do you have automatic beam landing device? Class M-for-Mary ship requesting permission to land. Do you have automatic beam landing?" His dial pointer swept back and forth. "Come in, class M-for-Mary." Herl's left hand moved to the autobeam switch. "What band for M-for-Mary landing? What band for M-for-Mary landing?" "Come in on seventy-three point eight, M-for-Mary. Come in on seventy-three point eight, M-for-Mary." Herl's left hand now centered the needle neatly on the appropriate setting as his right pressed the stud for extending the wings with their powerful atmosphere motors; and he sank back into the chair cushions with a relieved sigh. This was still a civilized planet. He'd be able to get back maybe a month sooner than he'd expected after the most recent setback. Forty years, he frowned, was too long between visits from Galactic Central, even if Central had no responsibility for autonomous groupings. A lot could happen in forty years on these isolated planets. The unprecedented mutation leaving half the population deaf and dumb had made the last call a long and tedious one. But by the signs so far, this planet was still ticking along satisfactorily with radio and radar and standard language, a space-port and all the comforts of civilization. The speaker hummed into activity. "Please state vessel name, registration, number of crew, destination, and nature of business, M-for-Mary entering on band seventy-three point eight." Herl grinned comfortably to himself. Familiar red tape had a homelike ring. "This is the _Krylla_, registered J-John five two L-Lomax one five on Earth Sol at headquarters of Galactic Coordination, on routine round trip of thirty planets carrying only Captain Herl Hofner, your sears-monkey, to governmental centers for trading coordination."