Out of them Wesley contrived for an exploring party to crash under Turlak's freakish gravity, for a beautiful girl ecologist to be snatched from the ship by the perpetual hurricane and for the expedition's handsome young hydroponicist to rescue her. Because there were no convenient inimical life forms on Turlak, Wesley threw in a couple of logical menaces in the way of red-hot lava serpents and bat-winged flying crocodiles whose natural element was the rushing wind. The following week saw this thumbnail synopsis turned into another novelet, less idyllic but more hectic than the first. He handed it over, weighed and stamped and sealed with scotch tape, to Charlie Birdsall on the morning of the first Monday in May. Charlie eyed the flat packet with respect. "Looks like you're getting the range," he said. "Wes, if you turn 'em out regular like this for the price that last one brought, you've got it made." He squinted appraisingly when Wesley made deprecating sounds. "I'd keep it quiet if I was you, though. Miriam will want to renovate the inn after you're married, maybe add a new wing." Wesley stiffened. "How did you know?" "The announcement was in yesterday's paper," Charlie told him. Miriam had wasted no time, Wesley thought. Confound it, you'd almost think she was deliberately burning his bridges behind him by making the thing public before he could reconsider. Charlie startled him further. "Maybe you know what you're doing, at that," Charlie said cryptically. "Maybe you're keen enough to know a good deal when you see one, after all." He put the car into gear and paused with a foot on the clutch. "So busy talking I nearly forgot I had another one of those tourist ads for you. What did you do, join a vacation club?" "In a way," Wesley said. "I won't have a chance to use it, though." "Tough," Charlie said, and drove away. * * * * * To distract resentful thought Wesley turned to his Adventure again, forgetting in the fascination of his third brochure that, for him, doom rhymed with June. The locale this time was a planet called Porizinia, circling Alpha Bootis--Arcturus. No life existed upon the surface of Porizinia because of her primary's tremendous heat, but the subterranean world below was something else again. The planet was largely igneous and so translucent, clear enough to let Arcturus light with fairy luminescence the endless labyrinth of caverns and tunnels that made up a nether environment all their own. The maze was filled in its lower levels with a buried ocean that ran in crystal tides past coral shoals where mermaid autochthons sunned themselves in the filtered glow and sang siren songs to enchant visitors. Those sections passable to air-breathers were carefully designated. Wesley, fingering the round-trip coupons at the end of the brochure, was startled to find himself eaten with the desire to see the place at first hand.