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diff --git a/26066.txt b/26066.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b675893 --- /dev/null +++ b/26066.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1048 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cosmic Express, by John Stewart Williamson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Cosmic Express + +Author: John Stewart Williamson + +Release Date: July 15, 2008 [EBook #26066] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COSMIC EXPRESS *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _Amazing Stories_ December 1961 and was + first published in _Amazing Stories_ November 1930. Extensive + research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on + this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical + errors have been corrected without note. + + + + +A Classic Reprint from AMAZING STORIES, November, 1930 + +_Copyright 1931, by Experimenter Publications Inc._ + + +_The Cosmic Express_ + +By JACK WILLIAMSON + + + + +Introduction by Sam Moskowitz + + +_The year 1928 was a great year of discovery for_ AMAZING STORIES. _They +were uncovering new talent at such a great rate, (Harl Vincent, David H. +Keller, E. E. Smith, Philip Francis Nowlan, Fletcher Pratt and Miles J. +Breuer), that Jack Williamson barely managed to become one of a +distinguished group of discoveries by stealing the cover of the December +issue for his first story_ The Metal Man. + +_A disciple of A. Merritt, he attempted to imitate in style, mood and +subject the magic of that late lamented master of fantasy. The imitation +found great favor from the readership and almost instantly Jack +Williamson became an important name on the contents page of_ AMAZING +STORIES. _He followed his initial success with two short novels_, The +Green Girl _in_ AMAZING STORIES _and_ The Alien Intelligence _in_ +SCIENCE WONDER STORIES, _another Gernsback publication. Both of these +stories were close copies of A. Merritt, whose style and method Jack +Williamson parlayed into popularity for eight years._ + +_Yet the strange thing about it was that Jack Williamson was one of the +most versatile science fiction authors ever to sit down at the +typewriter. When the vogue for science-fantasy altered to super science, +he created the memorable super lock-picker Giles Habilula as the major +attraction in a rousing trio of space operas_, The Legion of Space, The +Cometeers _and_ One Against the Legion. _When grim realism was the order +of the day, he produced_ Crucible of Power _and when they wanted +extrapolated theory in present tense, he assumed the disguise of Will +Stewart and popularized the concept of contra terrene matter in science +fiction with_ Seetee Ship _and_ Seetee Shock. _Finally, when only +psychological studies of the future would do, he produced_ "With Folded +Hands ..." "... And Searching Mind." + +The Cosmic Express _is of special interest because it was written during +Williamson's A. Merritt "kick," when he was writing little else but, and +it gave the earliest indication of a more general capability. The +lightness of the handling is especially modern, barely avoiding the +farcical by the validity of the notion that wireless transmission of +matter is the next big transportation frontier to be conquered. It is +especially important because it stylistically forecast a later trend to +accept the background for granted, regardless of the quantity of +wonders, and proceed with the story. With only a few thousand +scanning-disk television sets in existence at the time of the writing, +the surmise that this media would be a natural for westerns was +particularly astute._ + +_Jack Williamson was born in 1908 in the Arizona territory when covered +wagons were the primary form of transportation and apaches still raided +the settlers. His father was a cattle man, but for young Jack, the ranch +was anything but glamorous. "My days were filled," he remembers, "with +monotonous rounds of what seemed an endless, heart-breaking war with +drought and frost and dust-storms, poison-weeds and hail, for the sake +of survival on the_ Llano Estacado." _The discovery of_ AMAZING STORIES +_was the escape he sought and his goal was to be a science fiction +writer. He labored to this end and the first he knew that a story of his +had been accepted was when he bought the December, 1929 issue of_ +AMAZING STORIES. _Since then, he has written millions of words of +science fiction and has gone on record as follows: "I feel that +science-fiction is the folklore of the new world of science, and the +expression of man's reaction to a technological environment. By which I +mean that it is the most interesting and stimulating form of literature +today."_ + + + + +Mr. Eric Stokes-Harding tumbled out of the rumpled bed-clothing, a +striking slender figure in purple-striped pajamas. He smiled fondly +across to the other of the twin beds, where Nada, his pretty bride, lay +quiet beneath light silk covers. With a groan, he stood up and began a +series of fantastic bending exercises. But after a few half-hearted +movements, he gave it up, and walked through an open door into a small +bright room, its walls covered with bookcases and also with scientific +appliances that would have been strange to the man of four or five +centuries before, when the Age of Aviation was beginning. + +Yawning, Mr. Eric Stokes-Harding stood before the great open window, +staring out. Below him was a wide, park-like space, green with emerald +lawns, and bright with flowering plants. Two hundred yards across it +rose an immense pyramidal building--an artistic structure, gleaming with +white marble and bright metal, striped with the verdure of terraced +roof-gardens, its slender peak rising to help support the gray, +steel-ribbed glass roof above. Beyond, the park stretched away in +illimitable vistas, broken with the graceful columned buildings that +held up the great glass roof. + +[Illustration: Suddenly there was a sharp tingling sensation where they +touched the polished surface.] + +Above the glass, over this New York of 2432 A. D., a freezing blizzard +was sweeping. But small concern was that to the lightly clad man at the +window, who was inhaling deeply the fragrant air from the plants +below--air kept, winter and summer, exactly at 20 deg. C. + +With another yawn, Mr. Eric Stokes-Harding turned back to the room, +which was bright with the rich golden light that poured in from the +suspended globes of the cold ato-light that illuminated the snow-covered +city. With a distasteful grimace, he seated himself before a broad, +paper-littered desk, sat a few minutes leaning back, with his hands +clasped behind his head. At last he straightened reluctantly, slid a +small typewriter out of its drawer, and began pecking at it impatiently. + +For Mr. Eric Stokes-Harding was an author. There was a whole shelf of +his books on the wall, in bright jackets, red and blue and green, that +brought a thrill of pleasure to the young novelist's heart when he +looked up from his clattering machine. + +He wrote "thrilling action romances," as his enthusiastic publishers and +television directors said, "of ages past, when men were men. Red-blooded +heroes responding vigorously to the stirring passions of primordial +life!" + + * * * * * + +He was impartial as to the source of his thrills--provided they were +distant enough from modern civilization. His hero was likely to be an +ape-man roaring through the jungle, with a bloody rock in one hand and a +beautiful girl in the other. Or a cowboy, "hard-riding, hard-shooting," +the vanishing hero of the ancient ranches. Or a man marooned with a +lovely woman on a desert South Sea island. His heroes were invariably +strong, fearless, resourceful fellows, who could handle a club on equal +terms with a cave-man, or call science to aid them in defending a +beautiful mate from the terrors of a desolate wilderness. + +And a hundred million read Eric's novels, and watched the dramatization +of them on the television screens. They thrilled at the simple, romantic +lives his heroes led, paid him handsome royalties, and subconsciously +shared his opinion that civilization had taken all the best from the +life of man. + +Eric had settled down to the artistic satisfaction of describing the +sensuous delight of his hero in the roasted marrow-bones of a dead +mammoth, when the pretty woman in the other room stirred, and presently +came tripping into the study, gay and vivacious, and--as her husband of +a few months most justly thought--altogether beautiful in a bright silk +dressing gown. + +Recklessly, he slammed the machine back into its place, and resolved to +forget that his next "red-blooded action thriller" was due in the +publisher's office at the end of the month. He sprang up to kiss his +wife, held her embraced for a long happy moment. And then they went hand +in hand, to the side of the room and punched a series of buttons on a +panel--a simple way of ordering breakfast sent up the automatic shaft +from the kitchens below. + +Nada Stokes-Harding was also an author. She wrote poems--"back to nature +stuff"--simple lyrics of the sea, of sunsets, of bird songs, of bright +flowers and warm winds, of thrilling communion with Nature, and growing +things. Men read her poems and called her a genius. Even though the +whole world had grown up into a city, the birds were extinct, there were +no wild flowers, and no one had time to bother about sunsets. + +"Eric, darling," she said, "isn't it terrible to be cooped up here in +this little flat, away from the things we both love?" + +"Yes, dear. Civilization has ruined the world. If we could only have +lived a thousand years ago, when life was simple and natural, when men +hunted and killed their meat, instead of drinking synthetic stuff, when +men still had the joys of conflict, instead of living under glass, like +hot-house flowers." + +"If we could only go somewhere--" + +"There isn't anywhere to go. I write about the West, Africa, South Sea +Islands. But they were all filled up two hundred years ago. Pleasure +resorts, sanatoriums, cities, factories." + +"If only we lived on Venus! I was listening to a lecture on the +television, last night. The speaker said that the Planet Venus is +younger than the Earth, that it has not cooled so much. It has a thick, +cloudy atmosphere, and low, rainy forests. There's simple, elemental +life there--like Earth had before civilization ruined it." + +"Yes, Kinsley, with his new infra-red ray telescope, that penetrates the +cloud layers of the planet, proved that Venus rotates in about the same +period as Earth; and it must be much like Earth was a million years +ago." + +"Eric, I wonder if we could go there! It would be so thrilling to begin +life like the characters in your stories, to get away from this hateful +civilization, and live natural lives. Maybe a rocket--" + + * * * * * + +The young author's eyes were glowing. He skipped across the floor, +seized Nada, kissed her ecstatically. "Splendid! Think of hunting in the +virgin forest, and bringing the game home to you! But I'm afraid there +is no way.--Wait! The Cosmic Express." + +"The Cosmic Express?" + +"A new invention. Just perfected a few weeks ago, I understand. By +Ludwig Von der Valls, the German physicist." + +"I've quit bothering about science. It has ruined nature, filled the +world with silly, artificial people, doing silly, artificial things." + +"But this is quite remarkable, dear. A new way to travel--by ether!" + +"By ether!" + +"Yes. You know of course that energy and matter are interchangeable +terms; both are simply etheric vibration, of different sorts." + +"Of course. That's elementary." She smiled proudly. "I can give you +examples, even of the change. The disintegration of the radium atom, +making helium and lead and _energy_. And Millikan's old proof that his +Cosmic Ray is generated when particles of electricity are united to form +an atom." + +"Fine! I thought you said you weren't a scientist." He glowed with +pride. "But the method, in the new Cosmic Express, is simply to convert +the matter to be carried into power, send it out as a radiant beam and +focus the beam to convert it back into atoms at the destination." + +"But the amount of energy must be terrific--" + +"It is. You know short waves carry more energy than long ones. The +Express Ray is an electromagnetic vibration of frequency far higher than +that of even the Cosmic Ray, and correspondingly more powerful and more +penetrating." + +The girl frowned, running slim fingers through golden-brown hair. "But I +don't see how they get any recognizable object, not even how they get +the radiation turned back into matter." + +"The beam is focused, just like the light that passes through a camera +lens. The photographic lens, using light rays, picks up a picture and +reproduces it again on the plate--just the same as the Express Ray picks +up an object and sets it down on the other side of the world. + +"An analogy from television might help. You know that by means of the +scanning disc, the picture is transformed into mere rapid fluctuations +in the brightness of a beam of light. In a parallel manner, the focal +plane of the Express Ray moves slowly through the object, progressively, +dissolving layers of the thickness of a single atom, which are +accurately reproduced at the other focus of the instrument--which might +be in Venus! + +"But the analogy of the lens is the better of the two. For no receiving +instrument is required, as in television. The object is built up of an +infinite series of plane layers, at the focus of the ray, no matter +where that may be. Such a thing would be impossible with radio apparatus +because even with the best beam transmission, all but a tiny fraction of +the power is lost, and power is required to rebuild the atoms. Do you +understand, dear?" + +"Not altogether. But I should worry! Here comes breakfast. Let me butter +your toast." + +A bell had rung at the shaft. She ran to it, and returned with a great +silver tray, laden with dainty dishes, which she set on a little side +table. They sat down opposite each other, and ate, getting as much +satisfaction from contemplation of each other's faces as from the +excellent food. When they had finished, she carried the tray to the +shaft, slid it in a slot, and touched a button--thus disposing of the +culinary cares of the morning. + +She ran back to Eric, who was once more staring distastefully at his +typewriter. + +"Oh, darling! I'm thrilled to death about the Cosmic Express! If we +could go to Venus, to a new life on a new world, and get away from all +this hateful conventional society--" + +"We can go to their office--it's only five minutes. The chap that +operates the machine for the company is a pal of mine. He's not supposed +to take passengers except between the offices they have scattered about +the world. But I know his weak point--" + +Eric laughed, fumbled with a hidden spring under his desk. A small +polished object, gleaming silvery, slid down into his hand. + +"Old friendship, _plus_ this, would make him--like spinach." + + * * * * * + +Five minutes later Mr. Eric Stokes-Harding and his pretty wife were in +street clothes, light silk tunics of loose, flowing lines--little +clothing being required in the artificially warmed city. They entered an +elevator and dropped thirty stories to the ground floor of the great +building. + +There they entered a cylindrical car, with rows of seats down the sides. +Not greatly different from an ancient subway car, except that it was +air-tight, and was hurled by magnetic attraction and repulsion through a +tube exhausted of air, at a speed that would have made an old subway +rider gasp with amazement. + +In five more minutes their car had whipped up to the base of another +building, in the business section, where there was no room for parks +between the mighty structures that held the unbroken glass roofs two +hundred stories above the concrete pavement. + +An elevator brought them up a hundred and fifty stories. Eric led Nada +down a long, carpeted corridor to a wide glass door, which bore the +words: + + COSMIC EXPRESS + +stenciled in gold capitals across it. + +As they approached, a lean man, carrying a black bag, darted out of an +elevator shaft opposite the door, ran across the corridor, and entered. +They pushed in after him. + +They were in a little room, cut in two by a high brass grill. In front +of it was a long bench against the wall, that reminded one of the +waiting room in an old railroad depot. In the grill was a little window, +with a lazy, brown-eyed youth leaning on the shelf behind it. Beyond him +was a great, glittering piece of mechanism, half hidden by the brass. A +little door gave access to the machine from the space before the grill. + +The thin man in black, whom Eric now recognized as a prominent French +heart-specialist, was dancing before the window, waving his bag +frantically, raving at the sleepy boy. + +"Queek! I have tell you zee truth! I have zee most urgent necessity to +go queekly. A patient I have in Paree, zat ees in zee most creetical +condition!" + +"Hold your horses just a minute, Mister. We got a client in the machine +now. Russian diplomat from Moscow to Rio de Janeiro.... Two hundred +seventy dollars and eighty cents, please.... Your turn next. Remember +this is just an experimental service. Regular installations all over the +world in a year.... Ready now. Come on in." + +The youth took the money, pressed a button. The door sprang open in the +grill, and the frantic physician leaped through it. + +"Lie down on the crystal, face up," the young man ordered. "Hands at +your sides, don't breathe. Ready!" + +He manipulated his dials and switches, and pressed another button. + +"Why, hello, Eric, old man!" he cried. "That's the lady you were telling +me about? Congratulations!" A bell jangled before him on the panel. +"Just a minute. I've got a call." + +He punched the board again. Little bulbs lit and glowed for a second. +The youth turned toward the half-hidden machine, spoke courteously. + +"All right, madam. Walk out. Hope you found the transit pleasant." + +"But my Violet! My precious Violet!" a shrill female voice came from +the machine. "Sir, what have you done with my darling Violet?" + +"I'm sure I don't know, madam. You lost it off your hat?" + +"None of your impertinence, sir! I want my dog." + +"Ah, a dog. Must have jumped off the crystal. You can have him sent on +for three hundred and--" + +"Young man, if any harm comes to my Violet--I'll--I'll--I'll appeal to +the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals!" + +"Very good, madam. We appreciate your patronage." + + * * * * * + +The door flew open again. A very fat woman, puffing angrily, face highly +colored, clothing shimmering with artificial gems, waddled pompously out +of the door through which the frantic French doctor had so recently +vanished. She rolled heavily across the room, and out into the corridor. +Shrill words floated back: + +"I'm going to see my lawyer! My precious Violet--" + +The sallow youth winked. "And now what can I do for you, Eric?" + +"We want to go to Venus, if that ray of yours can put us there." + +"To Venus? Impossible. My orders are to use the Express merely between +the sixteen designated stations, at New York, San Francisco, Tokyo, +London, Paris--" + +"See here, Charley," with a cautious glance toward the door, Eric held +up the silver flask. "For old time's sake, and for this--" + +The boy seemed dazed at sight of the bright flask. Then, with a single +swift motion, he snatched it out of Eric's hand, and bent to conceal it +below his instrument panel. + +"Sure, old boy. I'd send you to heaven for that, if you'd give me the +micrometer readings to set the ray with. But I tell you, this is +dangerous. I've got a sort of television attachment, for focusing the +ray. I can turn that on Venus--I've been amusing myself, watching the +life there, already. Terrible place. Savage. I can pick a place on high +land to set you down. But I can't be responsible for what happens +afterward." + +"Simple, primitive life is what we're looking for. And now what do I owe +you--" + +"Oh, that's all right. Between friends. Provided that stuff's genuine! +Walk in and lie down on the crystal block. Hands at your sides. Don't +move." + +The little door had swung open again, and Eric led Nada through. They +stepped into a little cell, completely surrounded with mirrors and vast +prisms and lenses and electron tubes. In the center was a slab of +transparent crystal, eight feet square and two inches thick, with an +intricate mass of machinery below it. + +Eric helped Nada to a place on the crystal, lay down at her side. + +"I think the Express Ray is focused just at the surface of the crystal, +from below," he said. "It dissolves our substance, to be transmitted by +the beam. It would look as if we were melting into the crystal." + +"Ready," called the youth. "Think I've got it for you. Sort of a high +island in the jungle. Nothing bad in sight now. But, I say--how're you +coming back? I haven't got time to watch you." + +"Go ahead. We aren't coming back." + +"Gee! What is it? Elopement? I thought you were married already. Or is +it business difficulties? The Bears did make an awful raid last night. +But you better let me set you down in Hong Kong." + +A bell jangled. "So long," the youth called. + +Nada and Eric felt themselves enveloped in fire. Sheets of white flame +seemed to lap up about them from the crystal block. Suddenly there was a +sharp tingling sensation where they touched the polished surface. Then +blackness, blankness. + + * * * * * + +The next thing they knew, the fires were gone from about them. They were +lying in something extremely soft and fluid; and warm rain was beating +in their faces. Eric sat up, found himself in a mud-puddle. Beside him +was Nada, opening her eyes and struggling up, her bright garments +stained with black mud. + +All about rose a thick jungle, dark and gloomy--and very wet. Palm-like, +the gigantic trees were, or fern-like, flinging clouds of feathery green +foliage high against a somber sky of unbroken gloom. + +They stood up, triumphant. + +"At last!" Nada cried. "We're free! Free of that hateful old +civilization! We're back to Nature!" + +"Yes, we're on our feet now, not parasites on the machines." + +"It's wonderful to have a fine, strong man like you to trust in, Eric. +You're just like one of the heroes in your books!" + +"You're the perfect companion, Nada.... But now we must be practical. We +must build a fire, find weapons, set up a shelter of some kind. I guess +it will be night, pretty soon. And Charley said something about savage +animals he had seen in the television. + +"We'll find a nice dry cave, and have a fire in front of the door. And +skins of animals to sleep on. And pottery vessels to cook in. And you +will find seeds and grown grain." + +"But first we must find a flint-bed. We need flint for tools, and to +strike sparks to make a fire with. We will probably come across a chunk +of virgin copper, too--it's found native." + +Presently they set off through the jungle. The mud seemed to be very +abundant, and of a most sticky consistence. They sank into it ankle deep +at every step, and vast masses of it clung to their feet. A mile they +struggled on, without finding where a provident nature had left them +even a single fragment of quartz, to say nothing of a mass of pure +copper. + +"A darned shame," Eric grumbled, "to come forty million miles, and meet +such a reception as this!" + +Nada stopped. "Eric," she said, "I'm tired. And I don't believe there's +any rock here, anyway. You'll have to use wooden tools, sharpened in the +fire." + +"Probably you're right. This soil seemed to be of alluvial origin. +Shouldn't be surprised if the native rock is some hundreds of feet +underground. Your idea is better." + +"You can make a fire by rubbing sticks together, can't you?" + +"It can be done, I'm sure. I've never tried it, myself. We need some dry +sticks, first." + +They resumed the weary march, with a good fraction of the new planet +adhering to their feet. Rain was still falling from the dark heavens in +a steady, warm downpour. Dry wood seemed scarce as the proverbial hen's +teeth. + +"You didn't bring any matches, dear?" + +"Matches! Of course not! We're going back to Nature." + +"I hope we get a fire pretty soon." + +"If dry wood were gold dust, we couldn't buy a hot dog." + +"Eric, that reminds me that I'm hungry." + +He confessed to a few pangs of his own. They turned their attention to +looking for banana trees, and coconut palms, but they did not seem to +abound in the Venerian jungle. Even small animals that might have been +slain with a broken branch had contrary ideas about the matter. + +At last, from sheer weariness, they stopped, and gathered branches to +make a sloping shelter by a vast fallen tree-trunk. + +"This will keep out the rain--maybe--" Eric said hopefully. "And +tomorrow, when it has quit raining--I'm sure we'll do better." + +They crept in, as gloomy night fell without. They lay in each other's +arms, the body warmth oddly comforting. Nada cried a little. + +"Buck up," Eric advised her. "We're back to nature--where we've always +wanted to be." + + * * * * * + +With the darkness, the temperature fell somewhat, and a high wind rose, +whipping cold rain into the little shelter, and threatening to demolish +it. Swarms of mosquito-like insects, seemingly not inconvenienced in the +least by the inclement elements, swarmed about them in clouds. + +Then came a sound from the dismal stormy night, a hoarse, bellowing +roar, raucous, terrifying. + +Nada clung against Eric. "What is it, dear?" she chattered. + +"Must be a reptile. Dinosaur, or something of the sort. This world seems +to be in about the same state as the Earth when they flourished +there.... But maybe it won't find us." + +The roar was repeated, nearer. The earth trembled beneath a mighty +tread. + +"Eric," a thin voice trembled. "Don't you think--it might have been +better-- You know the old life was not so bad, after all." + +"I was just thinking of our rooms, nice and warm and bright, with hot +foods coming up the shaft whenever we pushed the button, and the gay +crowds in the park, and my old typewriter." + +"Eric?" she called softly. + +"Yes, dear." + +"Don't you wish--we had known better?" + +"I do." If he winced at the "we" the girl did not notice. + +The roaring outside was closer. And suddenly it was answered by another +raucous bellow, at considerable distance, that echoed strangely through +the forest. The fearful sounds were repeated, alternately. And always +the more distant seemed nearer, until the two sounds were together. + +And then an infernal din broke out in the darkness. Bellows. Screams. +Deafening shrieks. Mighty splashes, as if struggling Titans had upset +oceans. Thunderous crashes, as if they were demolishing forests. + +Eric and Nada clung to each other, in doubt whether to stay or to fly +through the storm. Gradually the sound of the conflict came nearer, +until the earth shook beneath them, and they were afraid to move. + +Suddenly the great fallen tree against which they had erected the flimsy +shelter was rolled back, evidently by a chance blow from the invisible +monsters. The pitiful roof collapsed on the bedraggled humans. Nada +burst into tears. + +"Oh, if only--if only--" + + * * * * * + +Suddenly flame lapped up about them, the same white fire they had seen +as they lay on the crystal block. Dizziness, insensibility overcame +them. A few moments later, they were lying on the transparent table in +the Cosmic Express office, with all those great mirrors and prisms and +lenses about them. + +A bustling, red-faced official appeared through the door in the grill, +fairly bubbling apologies. + +"So sorry--an accident--inconceivable. I can't see how he got it! We got +you back as soon as we could find a focus. I sincerely hope you haven't +been injured." + +"Why--what--what--" + +"Why I happened in, found our operator drunk. I've no idea where he got +the stuff. He muttered something about Venus. I consulted the +auto-register, and found two more passengers registered here than had +been recorded at our other stations. I looked up the duplicate beam +coordinates, and found that it had been set on Venus. I got men on the +television at once, and we happened to find you. + +"I can't imagine how it happened. I've had the fellow locked up, and +the 'dry-laws' are on the job. I hope you won't hold us for excessive +damages." + +"No, I ask nothing except that you don't press charges against the boy. +I don't want him to suffer for it in any way. My wife and I will be +perfectly satisfied to get back to our apartment." + +"I don't wonder. You look like you've been through--I don't know what. +But I'll have you there in five minutes. My private car--" + + * * * * * + +Mr. Eric Stokes-Harding, noted author of primitive life and love, ate a +hearty meal with his pretty spouse, after they had washed off the grime +of another planet. He spent the next twelve hours in bed. + +At the end of the month he delivered his promised story to his +publishers, a thrilling tale of a man marooned on Venus, with a +beautiful girl. The hero made stone tools, erected a dwelling for +himself and his mate, hunted food for her, defended her from the mammoth +saurian monsters of the Venerian jungles. + +The book was a huge success. + + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Cosmic Express, by John Stewart Williamson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COSMIC EXPRESS *** + +***** This file should be named 26066.txt or 26066.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/0/6/26066/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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