Search Worlds Without End

In the War Room of Command Post D the military and civilian analysts stared in horror as the message appeared on the big screen:

ATTENTION ALL COMMANDS! SAMOS SATELLITE 105 REPORTS ROCKET FIRED FROM EASTERN SIBERIAN POINT. NORAD.

A projection of the polar region appeared on the screen and all eyes followed a red dotted line that started in Siberia and had now reached the edge of the icecap. It was picking up speed as it arched up over the top of the world.

SAC TO ALL WINGS. SCRAMBLE ALL AIRCRAFT.

BMEWS NOW REPORTS 25 ICMB's..ESTIMATED IMPACT AREAS: WASHINGTON, OMAHA, VANDENBURG, McCOY, MacDILL, COLORADO SPRINGS, MARCHFIELD, TITAN BASES AT TUCSON, DENVER...

PRESIDENT AUTHORIZES ALL FORCES TO ATTACK! ATTACK! ATTACK! PLAN C FOR CHARLIE. START COUNTDOWNS...

Admiral Adam Max MacBride served a degenerating empire and wanted to retire to his own realm. Empress Juliana was something less than an empress, and her consort, Prince Wylan ap Dylan, was worse.

According to legend, the prince was a direct descendant of the original Arthur Pendragon who came from a mythical place called Earth through an improbable place called Caer Pedryvan, the revolving castle. MacBride didn't believe the stories of Earth and the revolving castle, but he knew that Arthur had been real enough because his own family was also descended from the Pendragon.

Would this be the end of Mankind? The shadow of nuclear warfare falls on all of us. How many would survive? And how many are prepared?

After such a war... what then? Then the earth will be populated by whatever LIVING THINGS can best survive the radiation fallout. And rats can absorb more than twice as much radiation as man -- and live!

The planet Nestrond had almost no resources, and after the great starships had ceased to come from Earth, the people reverted to earlier phases of civilization, splitting into kingdoms and empires, often at war with one another. There had been only bows and arrows for several generations. Then the Golandians had come, a race of humanoid star-roaming traders who abhorred war but who had been persuaded by trading concessions to supply the humans of Nestrond with gunpowder and weapons in which to employ it.

Thus it was that Prince Basil of Bradmore, rightful heir to the throne of the empire of Delmovia, stood on a small hill overlooking a grassy plain that streached down to the broad banks of the Black River, and awaited the approach of the Imperial army. Waiting with him, their chargers prancing and snorting, were his regiments of lancers and dragoons. Basil couldn't help thinking how strange it was that, a thousand years after man had conquered space and driven his way to the stars, he should still be fighting on horseback and foot and using manually loaded rifles and muskets. It seemed less strange that warfare should still be a part of life, because this was the culture in which he had been raised.

So, here he was, with a pick-up army lent him by a prince who was willing to take a chance in order to have a friend on the Delmovian throne, and remembering what he had studied in the many books of military strategy and tactics that were still available. It seemed to him that the commander, General Rudwin, did not greatly beleive in the chances of victory, and Basil knew that as many battles had been lost through over caution as through rashness. No matter how skillful the commander, there would always be the possiblity of an unexpected opening-and he would seize it if it did come. He, Basil, would not be like the Union generals in the early years of some civil war back on Earth.

He watched and an opening came. It didn't seem possible, but there it was; the maneuver the Imperial forces were making so magnificently had left an opening-which would close soon. Basil did not hesitate; he led his calvery into the gap, only to find it was a trap.

The battle was a disaster, and Prince Basil servived to find himself a hunted rebel, shielded by the Golandians, who would accept no payment. The merchant, Gar Padron, asked only for Basil's favor when he became emperor; he seemed sure that Prince Basil would reach the imperial throne.

Then the voices came. Basil remembered his mother, whose ambition for him-and bitterness at having been ousted from a rightful position-was the driving force in his life. Now it seemed as if he could hear her giving him explicit instruction; and his head ached when he tried to argue or ignore them.

He did not seem to see his mother, but there was no mistaking her voice-a voice he heard in his brain rather than his ears. Was he going mad? The driving, insistant voice made him leave the traders' caravan at the small kingdom of Victoria, where there would be an opportunity to make his start. But could he bear up under this constant pressure? How soon would it be before he started to see visions and show other traces of mental deterioration? Yet, the commands of the voice always seemed to be sound, so far as his single ambition was concerned. Here is a fascinating novel of tomorrow which might come someday.

THE REVOLT OF THE MACHINES

It was impossible of course, because the machines had been ruling everything for 100 years, so what could they revolt against?

They decided people had outlived their usefulness to them, and that genocide of 4 billion people on Planet Earth was the best policy.

And into this incredible situation Charles Henry Hyde was thrust, with a shrew of a wife named Agnes who nagged him like it was 1966...

It all started with a runaway chain reaction in a gigantic thermonuclear power plant on Mars, where Earth's surplus population was trying to establish new elbow room.

Then came the horrendous explosion and, without warning, the basic unity of the solar system was disrupted. Mars moved toward Earth to exert tremendous new gracitational pressures on it.

Phoebus and Demos, Mars' two tiny moons, were caught and pulled apart by this new influence, breaking up into large segments and falling to Earth as giant meteors. Thousands of fires raged; tidal waves swept inland; earthquakes shook the planet!

And still Mars moved closer and closer, until it was a ball of blood in the heavens, three times the size of the moon. Truly it looked as if the end of the world had come!

An engaging battle between two princesses, inspired by the Welsh Mabinogion. One is cursed by the desire for men, who die at her touch; the other is blessed by a love-urge inspired by a goddess. Enter Duffus January, their avowed protector, who ultimately must choose between them.

Kar Kaballa

Science fights magic on Earth's twin.

Kar Kaballa was the new king of the Gogs and rumor was that he would lead his barbaric cannibalistic band of Northern nomads down on a mad crusade against the civilized nations of the world. Cultured people found this improbably--but they were soon to learn better.

Their weapons were good, about as good as you could get in a Victorian army, which was what the period was. But there was a traveler in town with a weapon he said was better, an odd chap with a thing called a Gatling Gun from a country nobody ever heard of called the United States of America.

The question was...could this outlander, this Major Churchward, sell his unearthly import to the Empire soon enough--or would Kar Kaballa become the new Tamerlane of a bloody-dawned Twentieth Century?

Tower of the Medusa

The most dangerous thing in the universe--for the taking!

"You are the most notorious and celebrated jewel thief in the Near Stars. It was Kirin of Tellus who stole the Nine Diamonds of Pharvis from the dragon-guarded citadel beside the Flaming Sea. It was you who carried off the tiara of the Queen of Zodah, a trifle composed of eleven thousand matched fire-rubies, worth an emperor's ransom...I want you to steal something for me. I am a doctor of the Minor Thaumaturgies and I am come from Trevelon.

"The jewel we are after is called The MEdusa. It is concealed within a structure called the Iron Tower, which lies amidst the barren wastes of the uplands of Pelizon, guarded by a maze of traps and deadfalls. We have, over the centuries, and at frightful labor, obtained very precise and complete blueprints of the Tower...There will be no danger. No danger at all..."

The softly modulated voice of the starship interrupted the conversation.

"I have been under attack for the past 12.03 seconds," the ship observed calmly.