Legends of the living dead have filled the pages of mythology since time immemorial. If ninety-nine point nine percent of the stories can be explained as hallucinations, tricks of the light, moving shadows or sheer imagination, a hard core of disquieting fact remains. The vampire lives in the minds of men. When was it born? Perhaps in the dim distance of the remote past when the racial subconscious was being moulded. What keeps the vampire tradition alive in the mind of modern man? The two tiny words of "what if...?" Leroy Thompson met a girl in a dark country lane. He offered her a lift. He met her again and again, but always by night. Then he looked in the driving mirror and saw only his own reflection... She cast no shadow in the headlights... She screamed and leapt from the car before he reached a bridge that crossed a moonlit stream... What if?
Space fiction is no longer fiction in the same way that it used to be. There was an element of distance and strangeness about it a few years back. Now, fact has caught up and threatens to overtake. Science fiction today has become science prediction. An atom is a miniature solar system in some respects. The clustering molecules resemble galaxies, colloids are, perhaps, tiny models of the whole creation. Man stands midway between the unbelievably small and the unbelievably huge. This is one of the allies of science fiction. We look down into the mysteries of the infinitesimal; we look up into the majesty of the macrocosm. In all this vastness of stars and planets there must be other life. One day we shall make contact with that life. What will the aliens be like? How will human culture compete with non-human culture? Which will survive?
Charles Fort, the great American Rebel Philosopher, believed that every man had the right to doubt. He aimed his merciless shaft at scientists and religious leaders alike. No dearly cherished doctrine was safe from Fortean criticism simply because it was old and accepted. Fort wanted proof. He wanted more proof than any scientist could give. He demanded to see with his own eyes, to hear with his own ears. Just because a telescope indicated that a certain astronomical fact was very probable was no proof to Fort that it was Fact. He would not have accepted that the earth was 93,000,000 miles from the sun until he had run a measuring chain across the intervening space! There will be men like Charles Fort in every age, on every civilised planet. They will want proof. They will want to see and hear alien races for themselves. They will fly their valiant exploring ships to every corner of the universe. They will live. They will die. They will fail. They will succeed. This is the story of one of their journeys.
Kerrigan was a legend of his own life-time. He was the kind of electric personality around whom strange stories accumulate like iron filings dancing towards a magnet. When Kerrigan failed to return from a special mission in 2178 the stories grew wilder. Some of his crew refused to believe he was dead, others went to look for him. By 2180 it was as fashionable to go to Lunar Base to look for Kerrigan as it had been fashionable to hunt monsters in Loch Ness two centuries before. His brother Harry was open minded about the stories, even a little sickened by the transport companies who were cashing in on Kerrigan's disappearance. Then Harry met Susan Croft and his opinions of the transport companies changed a little. Susan was a telepath and she believed that Kerrigan was trying to contact her. Lunar, however, is a big, empty, dusty place and it was worse than looking for a needle in a haystack. Then one day they saw Kerrigan, or something that looked like Kerrigan...
Everything was ordinary. Men worked in factories and fields. Women were shopping. Children were at school. Then came the four-minute warning. Wires hummed madly between heads of governments. Just before the massive retaliation went into the air the world realised that no-one had despatched the first rocket. The retaliation was checked with seconds to spare. Experts examined the ruined city. There was something else besides radiation. Deadly bacteria from an unknown source spread across the planet. More alien bombs followed the first. But there was no real pattern in the attacks, if they were genuine attacks. At last the detectors found the alien ships. They were fighting among themselves and earth was the battle-area. Could the remnants of humanity interfere? What would be the result if they did?
They woke up to the smell of danger. No one could see it. None of them could hear it. But it was there. Lurking... intangible... inaudible... invisible. The space around them was alive with it. They breathed it into their lungs. It crept through the pores of their skins. It was the dreaded presence of X the Unknown.
Abercrombie was a strangely secretive man even for a top atom scientist. He had peculiar, advanced theories of his own which he would communicate to no one. The Government research project was well provided with safety factors. In theory the Pile was safe... but theory and practice are poles apart. There is always room for human error. The only man who did not run was Abercrombie. Was he a hero or a megalomaniac? His body was never found, but inexplicable things happened after the accident. It was as if a presence or an essence lingered over the rebuilt Project Headquarters. The accident at the Pile and the strange rumours surrounding Abercrombie's name were all but forgotten when the Aliens appeared. Terrible inhuman intelligences aided by powerful androids and monstrous robots threatened the Earth and Man's concept of civilised life. Then there was another strange phenomenon at the Pile and Abercrombie was no longer forgotten...
The Phantom Crusader: A skeleton figure gleamed beneath the ancient armour. The Room that Never Was: The door had been there the night before ... and now there was nothing. The Tunnel: Faint and far beneath them, they could hear the unmistakable sounds... Stranger in the Skill: There was someone at the door, someone strangely, frighteningly familiar. The Stockman: Psychic justice ... strange but sure ... Footprints in the Sand: There was nothing but wilderness for a thousand square miles. What had made the prints?
Unless life itself is a pathetic cosmic accident, man cannot be the only intelligence in the universe. It is unlikely that man is the highest intelligence. Compared to other planetary systems, our solar system is quite young. Its raw materials have barely been touched. If older intelligences wanted those raw materials only the primitive mind of man would stand in their way. Our so-called defences would perhaps aid the aliens more than aided us... Ken Andrews was a research worker in electronics. He had a sensitive mind and a vivid imagination. When he has a strange experience with the radar-screen his chief said he had been overworking. His doctor explained it as hallucination, but the so-called delusion persisted. If Ken Andrews was sane his world was in danger.... If he really was in communion with an alien intelligence, could that alien intelligence be trusted? The intriguing thought behind this story is that it could be true. It could happen today or tomorrow .... It might even have happened a few minutes ago in a top-secret research station somewhere in England...
Whenever disaster wipes its bloodstained hands on the pages of human history man asks why? Before the dawn of science primitive man believed in the intervention of weird supernatural powers. Omens were consulted. Oracles were read. Did these things bode good or evil? Science has explained many of the olden day terrors in terms of ergot poisoning, static electricity, delusion and hypnosis. Some stubborn facts remained unexplained and inexplicable. Do ghost armies march across the sky while their physical counterparts bleed and die below them? At what strange frontier do fact and fiction blend? To the terrified watchers below, the thing in the sky looked like a man, carried by a gigantic eagle. But as it descended they could see no space between the man and the bird.
Psychic investigators have long been intrigued by the question of the existence of Elemental Spirits. Is it possible that Beings of incredible age wander unseen through the wild, lonely deserts, and drift above the peaks of barren, desolate mountains? Is there any connection between such speculation and the legends of ancient mythology? Could it be that the djinn and devas of India are only other interpretations of the same inexplicable phenomena? Man feels that he has progressed beyond magic and even the most rational of civilised religions are undergoing periods of theological revolution and fundamental re-appraisal in the mid-60s. But what if an Elemental Spirit invaded the safety and comfort of everyday life? What if something over than mankind burst like a tornado into the security of ordered human society? Could the logic and science of the Twentieth Century defeat the terrifying power of a thing which was alive yet not alive, dead yet undying?
On June 1st 1963 Donald Bailey set out on a hiking tour. For twelve days it was mountain and lakes, rivers and fells, healthy exercise and the magic of a starlit campfire. On the thirteenth day they found a cave and decided to explore. A rock fall cut off the entrance and they searched desperately for another way out. Exhausted and battered, they finally scrambled through a small shaft into a strangely changed countryside which was familiar, yet not familiar. From a cottager who fed them and tended their wounds they learnt that somehow they were back in the days of the Civil War. Roundheads and Cavaliers battled desperately across the country and they found themselves involved in the bitter struggle for power. Unwittingly they gave information to a Roundhead spy, which resulted in the death of a Cavalier Commander. He returns from the dead in monstrous form, trying to exact a terrible vengeance on the bewildered pair who are desperately seeking to return to their own time.
Another spinetingling collection from the prolific pen of R L Fanthorpe! The Frozen Tomb: Unliving and undying she waited in a casket of ice. Sleeping Place: His thin lips curled back to display rows of sharp, white teeth. Strange Country: "What is he doing there? How could he escape?" Cry in the Night: The wolf cry sounded strangely human in the darkness... The Thing from Boulter's Cavern: Inhuman survivors of a weird, ancient race lived on in the labyrinth. The Coveters: "Greed is a psychic disease...maybe it has a psychic cure...?
In the realm of science things are often far from what they seem. In the science of sociology this is truest of all. Those who seem to control human affairs may only be figure-heads. The real power lies in unsuspected places...sinister...alien... Mervyn Wayne called at the offices of an apparently normal, respectable, old-established city firm and overheard intrigue of nightmare quality. He found himself a fugitive from an organisation whose ramifications extended everywhere. Society was being master-minded by someone, or something, so irresistibly powerful that Mervyn's first reaction was hopeless fear. Gradually, however, he learnt how to distinguish allies from organisation men and began building a counter-group of his own.
Mike Sterne was a man with problems. His environment included an unknown quantity in the form of an eccentric alien scientist and a determined corps of totalitarian militia with orders to liquidate him. A rigidly imposed authoritarian social structure can only be undermined by a superior ideology. Sterne encountered that ideology on the other side of an electronic gateway through the X dimensions, a gateway to the infinite universe of the microcosm and the macrocosm. His enemies also discovered a route through the continuum... but they didn't reach the same world that Sterne had found.
Valli had always lived for the Dance. She expressed her very soul through the sinuous, mystic movements that were as old as the East itself. Like all true artists she was a perfectionist. Her mind, as lithe as her body, was always searching for new material. At last she discovered a temple, old and deserted, hidden by Time and the mysterious, impenetrable jungle. In the temple she saw a series of carvings depicting an ancient sacred dance. It was a dance such as she had never imagined possible. Slowly at first and then with increasing speed she began to copy the movements recorded so faithfully by the timeless stone. A strange feeling possessed her as the rhythm of the ancient dance obsessed her whole being. Dark beings of terrifying supernatural aspect glided from the crumbling walls an joined in the ancient rhythm. Not until it was too late did Valli realise that the Forbidden Dance had resurrected forces of cosmic evil which had been sleeping in the lost temple.
Francis Simnel was a pathetic old man who lived in a strange world of his own, a world of puppets and marionettes. His sister Agnes was a demoness incarnate, a female fiend in human form, a relentless, ruthless, driving force urging the old man to a macabre destiny. There was something different about Simnel's Puppets. They had personality and a realism that was uncanny. They bore a sinister resemblance to the newly-dead. What began as the wildest and most improbable suspicion, crystallised into near certainty in the mind of Josephine Starr. She began asking questions, and the Satanists scented danger. She fell into a trap that had been set with diabolical cunning. Her life was balanced on a razor edge, with all the macabre resources of the Black Magicians weighing against her.
Who is the mysterious Golden Warrior lingering near the ancient burial grounds? And what strange apparition haunts the dreaded Goodwin sands? Another spinetingling collection from the prolific pen of R L Fanthorpe!
Is there a Destiny? Does Fate impose a limit? What Barrier stands between man and the creation of life? Since the legendary failure of the ill-fated Frankenstein, man has tried time and time again to pass those limits. He has created androids, clumsy robots of flesh and blood. He has made men of metal and servants of plastic, with wheels for limbs and magnetic tapes for voices. Man has made things by cross breeding the animal kingdom and destroying Nature's intentions...but man has never yet made man. Or has he? Forbisher thought that he had the answer. It wasn't a clumsy Synthetic. It wasn't an Android, or a Robot, it was a real flesh and blood human being. The beautiful woman in his arms was the product of a laboratory experiment, not the result of a natural biological process. But how could he prove it?
An itinerant French mercenary stumbles into the Valley of the Kings; driven by thirst and crazed by the eastern sun, he crawls through a crevice in an ancient wall... The papyrus roll he found contained weird hieroglyphics, an owl, a bolted door, an eagle, an axe and, strangest of all, Xerefu and Akeru - the lions of Yesterday and Today. The scroll found its way to Paris. The year was 1798. The Terror was born. Behind the welter of blood that was revolution, older, darker, more sinister forces were at work. The Revolution was only a means to an end... only a symptom of a deadlier peril, a terror behind the Terror. Ancient Egyptian power was stronger than the guillotine...
Modern man is not fascinated by ancient Egypt without good reason. The Nile Civilisation is not only interesting because of its age but because of its mystery. Who can completely answer the riddle of the Sphinx, even today? What strange mysteries are still buried among the measurements of the Great Pyramid? How many wonders are yet incarcerated in the Valley of the Kings? Johnny Cole and Chris Saunders set out for the Eye Temple at Luxor. The discovered evidence of a strange cult, hitherto quite unsuspected. The search took them to Thebes and beyond. From Necropolis to Necropolis they traced the terrifying ancient truth to learn at last that the Eye-god still lived, deadly, ruthless, malevolent. Would twentieth century weapons work on a being older than time itself? If not, how did a mortal fight against an evil deity?
Man has already entered space and lived to tell the tale. Science Fiction is on the verge of being overtaken by science fact. Tomorrow is here . . . today. The space age is no longer the dream of the writer or the hope of the scientist. It has already dawned. Man is galloping towards the stars. The roaring hoofs of the rockets are beating out the trail to Infinity. There will be no turning back. Boundless possibilities stretch out before us. Endless opportunities beckon us. Will we use them for good or ill? Space holds a million unknown factors. We are like children plunging into a vast ocean and striking out bravely for an unseen shore, the shore of the unexplored land. As we swim into the future we tell ourselves stories about the wonders that lie ahead of us. This is one of those stories.
Innumerable explanations have been put forward for the phenomena, known popularly as U.F.O'S and Flying Saucers. Eminent psychologists explain them as purely mental phantasmagoria - symptomatic of mankind's age-old desire for "saviours from the sky". Enthusiastic arm-chair cosmonauts regard them as irrefutable proof that super intelligences from Out There are watching the Earth. A few un-scrupulous publicity seekers and practical jokers cash in on the public's curiosity and weird stories of little green men and pink ants go the rounds. Amateur military tacticians decide that the saucers are either out new secret weapons or the experimental weapons of some alien power. Interest rises and falls. The Great Debate continues. There are some other possibilities . . . and the implications of some are so horrifying that mere monsters from Beyond would be a pleasant anti-climax. This mature, challenging novel is not recommended for those who like to think of the everyday world in terms of permanence and security with humanity safely established at the head of creation. Elspeth Jermyn came dangerously close to the truth, and slowly but surely gathered a small group of helpers together. They worked in strictest secrecy against the Saucer Phenomena and the invidious menace behind it . . . if they failed, life would have no real meaning.
Catherine Wilder was a strange girl, lovely but lonely. Sir Henry Wilder, her father, was the kind of eccentric, medical researcher who preferred to work in complete isolation. Catherine withdrew deeper into herself as the oppressing loneliness of her father's remote mansion weighed upon her mind. When she first heard the voice she wondered whether the mansion was haunted, then she feared for her sanity. But it was neither madness nor the supernatural which threatened her. Mezak appeared to her suddenly in the twilight of the mansion's gloomy corridors. He was more romantic than her wildest dreams. Although some of his language was beyond her understanding at first, it gradually became possible for them to communicate. Mezak was from the future, the remote future, but Catherine slowly realised that she was in love with him! Her father's strange research into super-freezing and suspended animation gave her only a remote chance of reaching him, but she was prepared to take that chance. As Catherine placed herself in the freezing chamber, numbness and darkness crept over her.... Would she ever open those beautiful eyes again?
Is time infinite, or does it have a beginning and an end? This fascinating explores the mysteries of time and proposes a theory that suggests an awesome answer.
Psychology recognises the existence of multiple personalities inhabiting the same mind. To the ancients such strange transformations were evidence of demonic possession, and even today there are reputable experts who would not rule out the possibility that something else can take over a human mind. To the victim of such personality change there are long periods for which the memory cannot account, periods during which the secret enemy is in charge. Walter Hamilton was a perfectly normal, well-adjusted man in early middle age when strange gaps in his memory first began to worry him. At first he tried to ignore the tell-tale symptoms of schizophrenia but other clues presented themselves. The face in the crowd scene on a telerecorded film vaguely familiar. It wasn't his fave... but there were undeniable similarities. A picture in a newspaper worried him more... Before he could extricate himself he was trapped in a tangled web of interwoven personalities, unable to find himself, powerless to break away from the sinister complications of his two other lives.
Anthropologists argue over the significance of Neanderthal and Cro-Magnon remains and vast periods of pre-history remain to be filled satisfactorily. These hidden eras of the long-dead past are as open to speculation and mysterious adventure as the unguessed vistas of tomorrow. How many strange, undiscovered species of man have lived and died leaving no apparent record of their existence? An avalanche on the Swiss-Italian border isolated Marian Sanderson and a frightening assortment of other guests in a peculiar old alpine chateau. Although no human rescue party was able to make the climb, something moved on the precipitous slopes around them. As Marian gradually discovered the truth about her fellow guests she realised the avalanche had been no accident. Something of terrible potential lurked outside the isolated chateau... Dark, supernatural forces were poised on the brink of Ultimate Fear...
Blake had waited a long time for his big chance. Finally the selection board called him in. This was it. He got his promotion, his captain's ticket and his first assignment. Vorgal was a tough planet but Blake was ready for it. He was the first spaceman to land on Vorgal without crashing. He was the first human being to see a Vorgalian and live. He was the first to learn the planet's deadly secret an come back alive. But...when he went into landing orbit around Earth they fired on him. No one would believe that the impossible had happened. They thought Blake's body was being used by an alien, and unless he could convince them fast he would die. Without his secret knowledge of Vorgal, Earth would die too...
It was a proud moment in the earth's history, when twenty-four dedicated volunteers set off, on that bright summer morning in 1993, to conquer the vastnesses of inter-stellar space. They did not hope to accomplish their Herculean task in the meagre span of human life. It was their descendants who would walk out onto the as yet undiscovered, planets of the alien stars... or so they dreamed. There were dire perils ahead of them. Damage to their engines, radio-activity the invisible killer, space madness and the failure of the life giving hydroponic tanks which supplied their oxygen. Yet the worst enemy of all was the enemy within themselves. The human failure of men and women, locked in the close confines of the Star Ship. Then there was the Alien Ship... Friend or foe?... Saviour or destroyer?
The romantic legend of the Holy Grail is almost without parallel in the stories of chivalry. It has about it a quality of inspiration and a standard of purity that transcends everyday life. It shines like a star through the darkness of the Dark Ages. But what if Satan has his own counterpart? What if - just as the Black Mass of the witches and wizards, is an abominable reversal of the Holy Communion Service of the Christian - what if, then, there is an Unholy grail? A sinister thing of death and terror. A glittering, golden chalice forged in the nethermost chasms of Hell, wrought by the hands of unholy craftsmen. Gilded by demons, decked with gems by jewellers who life with the Prince of Darkness. A thing that originated below the dark hills where trolls dwell... That, too, would be the object of many a quest. There would be dedicated heroes searching to destroy it. There would be unscrupulous men who wanted to employ its dark power for their own ends. There would be weak men unable to resist its call. There would be strong men whose wills clashed with the almost irresistible power of the Golden Goblet.
It was a great world in the fortieth century. No economic problems. No work. Robots and androids everywhere. Every girl a princess, every man a king. Pleasure, parties, amusements, art, drama and literature were the ultimate goal of every man woman and child. When people have too much leisure there is a danger. They grow soft and effete. There hadn't been a standing army on earth for a thousand years. There hadn't been a single warrior for five hundred. Then the Masked Swordsmen began breaking up the pleasure parties, after the swords came guns, stolen from the museums. Then... worse,... far, far worse. But that wasn't all. There were rumours of alien ships in the sky. Ships manned by a savage blue skinned humanoid race. Ships landed. Blues were enslaved. More blues came. Earthmen and women were captured in reprisal. Who were the blues? Why did they come? What was their history? What were their plans for the future? Would the human race survive?
Krells never set out to be a hero. He was the first to admit he was a trader. "In it for the money; I leave thinking to the experts." But the experts couldn't solve the problem of Ralcor IX. Professional fighters and scientific investigators vanished or were mysteriously destroyed. The robot might of an armoured Bellicose 35 was found shredded like tinsel. Krells still refused to think of himself as hero material - but he wouldn't quit. Martia, his computer girl, and Galor, the despatch man, stayed with him. For some reason the power that had driven every other terrestrial humanoid off Ralcor IX couldn't dislodge the traders. Krells groped desperately for a reason. Finding one meant the return of his own people and that meant money. Something he couldn't understand was shielding him from the Unknown Menace. Suppose he accidentally stopped doing whatever it was that protected him...? Most people would have become neurotic and quit - not Krells. He didn't seem to have enough intelligence or imagination to know when to worry.
Have you ever faced one of those savage biting winds that try to hurl men from perilous heights? Have you sailed into the teeth of a vicious 90 m.p.h. gale and wondered whether there was some strange power behind the wind? An evil power? A dark power?
George Mallory was out for a quiet day's shooting. A typical country-man, in typical English country. His day's sport was interrupted by the beginning of the greatest catastrophe in man's history - an alien space ship was crashing as his feet. The ghastly monstrosity that emerged was so hideously repulsive that no one would have guessed at the degree of intelligence and potential friendliness in its strange mind. Mallory shot first and asked questions afterwards. With its dying strength, the alien cursed the earth with a scientific horror beyond the comprehension of man, a horror that turned the beasts against us. The only escape seemed to lie out in space... but the devastating effect of the cosmic rays wrought havoc in the minds of the space men and the lunar expedition turned on itself in deadly carnage. What would be the outcome of the terrible conflict between man and beast?
Jonga and Krull had a routine job in the solar system defence organisation. Week after week and year after year they checked the asteroids. 23rd century astronomy had accurately charted 2,812 of those miniature worlds, compared with the 1,539 that are known to-day. Suddenly a new asteroid appears, and a survey expedition under Squadron-leader Gregg Masterson, is sent out to investigate. They expedition fails to return, and when the watching asteroid observation corps make another anxious check, they find that the mysterious planetoid has disappeared as mysteriously as it came. A second expedition is launched under General Rotherson himself. An expedition that finds the wreckage of the survey ships, and the bodies of every man except Gregg Masterson. Where is the missing Squadron leader? Who is the terrible ageless asteroid man? So strong that he can control the destinies of a planet. What is the beautiful Princess Astra of Altain doing in the labyrinth below the surface of the asteroid?
Since the first classical ghost story was written, and since the unexplainable caught the imaginations of men, the mysteries of ancient Egypt have captivated the reading public in both fact and fiction. Non one who walks through the Egyptian exhibits of a museum can fail to be impressed by the immense number and complexity of the exhibits. What meanings lie hidden in that ageless heiroglyphic writing? What forbidden knowledge lurks behind the inscrutable eyes of Nephthys, Guardian of the Dead? What dreadful secrets are revealed when the seals around the lid of a sarcophagus are broken? Do the falcon-headed gods Horus and Set still walk the earth? Do the carnivorous fangs of the weird Anubis still seek the human blood. Does Mont, the macabre bull-headed god still hold sinister sway in forgotten corners of the Delta? The explorers who raided the timeless tomb at Luxor discovered to their cost, that an Egyptian curse was independent of time and space...
Can it be that of all the billions of probably planets, revolving around strange suns, in far corners of the Universe, ours is the only home of intelligent life? If life has managed to come into being elsewhere on some bizarre, grotesque world, just how strange and alien will that life be? What if its own planet is dying? It would need a new environment, and the questing ships of its explorers would traverse the void. What if they find Earth and decide that it suits their purpose perfectly... except for man? How would the battle be fought and who would win?
They dragged the screaming stranger into the asylum. His talk of Fire Gods and universal conquest seemed the ultimate in illusions. Next morning, the padded cell was burnt out...and there was no trace of the prisoner. The door was still locked, still barred. Perhaps the arson that followed was just a coincidence? The Brigade Chiefs called in a special investigator. No result. Finally the IPF took a hand and subsequently the investigations pointed to extra galactic interference. When the psychiatrist, who had originally examined the mysterious 'fire god', was questioned the second time things began to add up. Those wild, strange words ha not been the ravings of a maniac but the diabolical threat of an alien entity. A thing with unbelievable power...that threatened the universe itself!
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