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Erebus, issue 4, 1943

Page 12

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[header] 12 FREBUS [/header] [large text] THE SAGA OF SATELLITE SAL [/large text] She wasn't much to look at; she was battered ad worn and old, But the dross of her outer form it covered a heart of purest gold. And there wasn't a hardened spaceman but would stick with her tot he end, Or one of the satelitte-dwellers not proud to call her friend. She could chart an orbit faster than most Venusians could talk; She could - and would - blast from the hip. At cleaning out her rockets, or joining in a fight (At which she decidedly held her own) if the cause to her seemed right. She was tough and fast and hard as nails, and could cuss like a while black gang, But in her business - inter-satelitte freighting - she never rang A sale that wasn't legal, fair and square with all concerned And she paid with sweat and toil for every intersol she earned She had been young and fair once; suitors she had, and to spare, But she gave her heart to an Earth-lad, broad shouldered with flaming hair And the glib, lying tounge of the Irish. He left her, to join a band Of space-pirates, seeking to force forever the grasping, greedy hand
 
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