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The Alchemist, v.1, issue 3, Summer 1940
Page 17
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THE ALCHEMIST Page 17 was all right, and that we should arrive safe and sound at our destination, providing the anti-gravity belts didn’t fail. It didn’t make me feel any better to be informed that quite often they did fail. (That hole in the ground is where a regiment fell the other day,” he said*) But luckily for all concerned, we arrived safely. Our destination was a sky-palace, floating through the air above the north pole of the-planet. We entered, floated through it on a tour of inspection, and I was shown my quarters. You may wonder why the Martians had eight legs when they never walked. Well, so do I. Ain’t nature grand? For ten hot-chas (the Martian equivalents of nights) I stayed there, learning all of the Martian customs. Ten nights in a Mars-room. During the day I slept—why didn’t I sleep at night? Huh, buddy, you don’t know Mars! At last, on the eleventh night, I was conducted to a huge hall, in which were assembled all the people of Mars. And there I was to learn what my fate would be. To my amazement, there, at the right-hand end of the hall, were lines of shelves. And to my amazement for the second time, to these shelves were copies of every issue of every stf magazine that had ever been published! "What-—where did you get these?" I asked in amazement, for the third time. No answer. I walked over to the shelves. At random I picked up a dingy issue—and {rasped for the--golly, I forget how many times I was amazed by this time. Aw, let it go. There it was, that rarity, a copy of a 1934 Astounding Stories magazine —only six
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THE ALCHEMIST Page 17 was all right, and that we should arrive safe and sound at our destination, providing the anti-gravity belts didn’t fail. It didn’t make me feel any better to be informed that quite often they did fail. (That hole in the ground is where a regiment fell the other day,” he said*) But luckily for all concerned, we arrived safely. Our destination was a sky-palace, floating through the air above the north pole of the-planet. We entered, floated through it on a tour of inspection, and I was shown my quarters. You may wonder why the Martians had eight legs when they never walked. Well, so do I. Ain’t nature grand? For ten hot-chas (the Martian equivalents of nights) I stayed there, learning all of the Martian customs. Ten nights in a Mars-room. During the day I slept—why didn’t I sleep at night? Huh, buddy, you don’t know Mars! At last, on the eleventh night, I was conducted to a huge hall, in which were assembled all the people of Mars. And there I was to learn what my fate would be. To my amazement, there, at the right-hand end of the hall, were lines of shelves. And to my amazement for the second time, to these shelves were copies of every issue of every stf magazine that had ever been published! "What-—where did you get these?" I asked in amazement, for the third time. No answer. I walked over to the shelves. At random I picked up a dingy issue—and {rasped for the--golly, I forget how many times I was amazed by this time. Aw, let it go. There it was, that rarity, a copy of a 1934 Astounding Stories magazine —only six
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