Showing results by narrator "Scott Miller" in All Categories

It was well after dark when Matt Matthews got back down to the headquarters camp, and saw the city stranger sitting there before the fire. He knew he was a city man after a single glance at the shiny, low-topped shoes and the reminiscence of a crease in the dusty trousers. Matt tossed the gophers and the two small coyotes off his broad shoulders to old Moe Arhelger, across the campfire, staring in suspicious silence from the stranger to Moe and back again. "Who's he?" he asked finally.

The Queen of Space written by Joseph Slotkin: Helen LaTour had the best hip wriggle in galactic Burleyque. In fact, it was so good she hipped herself smack into another dimension! I was relaxin' with my second Plutonian Stinger in the dignified atmosphere of Charley's Venusian Retreat when there was this strange noise outside the dive, like a flock of hot jets hittin' the atmosphere. Right after a character comes bustin' through the door.

Murph, Forsyth, and Jamison heard the alien voice warn them. And to each it sounded familiar - a sweetheart, a son, a hated enemy! In a dwindling spiral, they circled the planet, and Murph's cold blue eyes studied the radar screen. Things looked good: no sign of cities, social denizens, or humanoids. He was scribbling notes on his desk when the all-wave above him started crackling. He watched the green line sweep back and forth along the dial, finally centering on the wavelength that was broadcasting. As it focused, the speaker sputtered in.

Somehow, Jeff Engel followed the stranger into another world - among people who hated all aliens. And, of course, he was now one himself! Jeff Engel studied the feverish crowd hurrying through the subway turnstiles. As he checked each passing face against a card-index mind, he smiled to himself. Even when off duty, the habit persisted. There was always the chance he'd spot a face that would fit, one that would close another active file in the Missing Persons Bureau.

They still talk of Braun, and the Fourth Intergalactic Survey. Other men before him had gone out into the far, dark places. Three previous expeditions had gone out and vanished completely. Then the Venture IV went out and out and out countless miles and light-years and whatever else it is - and out there in the lonely darkness, something happened. Nobody knew exactly what happened, but there was a lot of guessing. Only one man came back. Braun. And there was talk...

I'm not exactly broke, but this Major Daphne owned more planets than I do golf balls. Whereas my mining interests were mostly on earth, the Major got in early on the Centaurus grab. A whole generation later, all I could stake out was one hot little hunk of tropical mud that no one else would fool with. Daphne liked to kid me about my "galactic empire" every time we collided at the club. I was a bachelor and Daphne was married, but he spent more time there than I.

Disease contaminated their ship; any moment one of them might become infected and spray lethal sparks to the others. There was no cure - except prevention. And, that meant three spacemen left to die! Commander Al Andrews had closed and locked the energy-proof, neutralizing bulkheads against the creeping red glow that infected one quadrant of his circular space ship. Now, he stood in the control center, in the midsection of the revolving wagon-wheel ship, looking at Oakey Matthews.

Maw Coy climbed the fence down at the end of the south pasture and started up the side of the creek, carrying her bundle over her shoulder and puffing slightly at her exertion. She forded the creek there at the place where Hank's old coon dog, Jigger, was killed by the boar three years ago during the hunting season. Jumping from rock to rock across the creek made her puff even harder; Maw Coy wasn't as young as she once was.

Scott Miller knows there's something special about Maria Chavez the first time he sees her. A first kiss goes sour, but he gets a second chance when he takes her to the senior prom. Love isn't in the cards - at least not yet - as they leave early in his 1972 Cutlass Supreme. Thirty six years pass, 32 of them with Miller married to another woman. This isn't love. At least, it's not what he desires. Life itself seems empty - until he receives an email from an old flame.

Writing stories was hard work - unless Fred had a typewriter like "Reggie" that could write by itself! Nonsense? Fred agreed until he met the plagiarist from Rigel IV. I bought the typewriter in a pawn shop on Third Avenue. The pawn shop proprietor was a balding old man with a walrus mustache. "How much?" I asked him. "Five dollars," he said casually.

He stared with fascination at a heap of newspapers spread out on the corner stand. He could guess the purpose of these layers of white sheets covered with black or red symbols, but he could not yet interpret them, and he had no idea whether anyone had seen or reported his ship. It was almost certain that someone had observed a shooting star, but the chances were very much against any observation having been made of the star’s slow, dark drift to Earth.

Half of Jupiter's great disk and most of the other moons were below the horizon when the man stepped out of the plane and changed her life. As far as Carol Marsh was concerned, he was ordinary enough in appearance. And she wasn't ordinarily attracted to ordinary men. He was slightly over medium height, his features were not quite regular, and he had a deep tan over what had started out as a sunburn, so that she decided he had misjudged the strength of the sun on some planet with a thin atmosphere.

Harry spent three years in space, waiting to get home to Earth - and his family. They were waiting for him, too - that is, for his corpse. Captain Greene shook his shaggy head and studied Allerton with patient eyes. "You're making a mistake," he said. "You'll be back." The inside of the spaceship was quiet now, not with the silence of the tomb, but with the silence of barely inaudible echoes, as if Allerton might still be able to hear the crew clomping about the companionways on metal-shod feet if only he knew how to listen.

Silvia secretly planned to divorce George when they reached Arcturus. But a space journey can alter a careful plan - or hatch a worse one. The trouble started when the Arcturus Queen was four billion miles out of Earth, heading for the star after which it was named. It pulled clear of the solar system using conventional drive, then switched into subspace. A few minutes later, the ship shuddered perceptibly, and an authoritative voice came reassuringly from the public address system.

Frane Lewis enjoyed another sadistic shiver as he moved up the narrow passageway to the captain's control room. To his flared nostrils, the warm, moist air of the small space freighter was still heavy with the smell of death. A psychiatrist could have told him that this was a neural confusion of olfactory sensation with the perverted emotional excitement of murder. But no physician ever attended Frane's murders, except at inquests.

As the title suggests, The Giant Book of Fascinating Facts, contains a huge list of fascinating and unbelievable facts about the world that we live in. The facts range from the craziest events to the funniest people. The Giant Book of Fascinating Facts is packed with interesting, entertaining, educational and fun things to read. You'll get everything from the weird to the wonderful and from the horrible to the hilarious.

Greg was sure the kids had no right being in control of a planet; after all what had they learned about life? Still, what had he learned? The old ship wheezed and clattered into the landing slot. Greg was an expert pilot, but skill was no substitute for outdated equipment. He unstrapped the safety webbing and eased himself out of the cabin, cluttered with its worn and scarred electronic gadgetry. With the handcrank, he opened the airlock. Rusting metal screamed as the panel slid back into the hull.

Henig was sent to obtain a soil sample of the planet. It was a routine assignment, but not necessarily the only method for discovering an—Export Commodity. Three of the hairless bipeds stood in front of the frame building talking. Concealed by the brush beyond the road, Henig studied them carefully. The pale, white-skinned animals had a culture of sorts—their language, their buildings, their wheeled vehicles testified to that—but an animal society was very different from the rational civilization Henig knew.

Gentle Marene was next when the black space cruiser called for its youth-levy. If only Zurk would spark to life - Zurk, this huge, part-human war machine of tubular steel muscles and blank, mechanical mind. There was both agony and defeat etched deeply into Guyard's lean face as he stood there in the center of the hidden attic laboratory. His fists were clinched tightly at his sides and his hollow eyes were staring tensely and with supplication at the steel monstrosity before him. "Zurk, you must save her!" he pleaded. "You must save Marene!" Zurk, the man of steel, made no move.

When you are only about 90 degrees from absolute zero, it is not hot, despite the fact that the sun is shining down on you 24 hours a day. The answer to this riddle is that you are on Uranus, in the arctic circle, where the sun is a bright star almost directly overhead. And what are you doing on Uranus? You need the money. Nils Borgmann, however, was sweating. And the reason was that the heating unit on his space suit, like the heating units on almost all space suits, was not functioning properly.