TERROR OUT OF SPACE
by LEIGH BRACKETT
An eerie story of a silver land beneath the
black Venusian seas. A grim tale of brooding
terror whirling out of space to drive men mad,
of a menace without name or form, and of the man,
Lundy, who fought the horror, his eyes blinded by
his will. For to see the terror was to become its
slave--a mindless automaton whose only wish was to
see behind the shadowed mysterious eyelids of "_IT_".
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Summer 1944.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Lundy was flying the aero-space convertible by himself. He'd been doing
it for a long time. So long that the bottom half of him was dead to the
toes and the top half even deader, except for two separate aches like
ulcerated teeth; one in his back, one in his head.
Thick pearly-grey Venusian sky went past the speeding flier in
streamers of torn cloud. The rockets throbbed and pounded. Instruments
jerked erratically under the swirl of magnetic currents that makes the
Venusian atmosphere such a swell place for pilots to go nuts in.
Jackie Smith was still out cold in the co-pilot's seat. From in back,
beyond the closed door to the tiny inner cabin, Lundy could hear
Farrell screaming and fighting.
He'd been screaming a long time. Ever since the shot of _avertin_ Lundy
had given him after he was taken had begun to wear thin. Fighting the
straps and screaming, a hoarse jarring sound with no sense in it.
Screaming to be free, because of _It_.
Somewhere inside of Lundy, inside the rumpled, sweat-soaked black
uniform of the Tri-World Police, Special Branch, and the five-foot-six
of thick springy muscle under it, there was a knot. It was a large
knot, and it was very, very cold in spite of the sweltering heat in
the cabin, and it had a nasty habit of yanking itself tight every few
minutes, causing Lundy to jerk and sweat as though he'd been spiked.
Lundy didn't like that cold tight knot in his belly. It meant he was
afraid. He'd been afraid before, plenty of times, and he wasn't ashamed
of it. But right now he needed all the brains and guts he had to get
_It_ back to Special headquarters at Vhia, and he didn't want to have
to fight himself, too.
Fear can screw things for you. It can make you weak when you need to be
strong, if you're going to go on living. You, and the two other guys
depending on you.
Lundy hoped he could keep from getting too much afraid, and too
tired--because _It_ was sitting back there in its little strongbox in
the safe, waiting for somebody to crack.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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