Научная фантастика
Различные книги в жанре Научная фантастикаBig Pill
Child, it was, of the now ancient H-bomb. New. Untested. Would its terrible power sweep the stark Saturnian moon of Titan from space … or miraculously create a flourishing paradise-colony?
Where Are You Mr. Biggs?
I didn’t have to ask whom he meant. “Scrawny neck” would mean only one inmate of our void-perambulating asylum. Lancelot Biggs. Genius and crackpot, scarecrow and sage—and soon to become son-in-law of the skipper.
Werewolf of the Sahara
“This Ilbrahaim, though—he swears our camp’s being haunted. He thinks a weredog, or werewolf, has attached itself to us. Says he woke and saw it prowling about last night.”
The White Feather Hex
For a few seconds, however, the tall stranger seemed to lose all of his cockiness, and a somber look crept over his jovial features. “Have you ever heard of the hex of the white feather?”
The Tree of Life
For in the clearing’s center stood the Tree of Life. He had met the symbol too often in patterns and designs not to recognize it, but here that fabulous thing was living, growing, actually springing up from a rooted firmness in the spangled grass as any tree might spring. Yet it could not be real.
The Terror Of The Water-Tank
Crowning the heights on the outskirts of a certain town on the east coast is a large, iron water-tank from which an isolated row of small villas obtains its supply. The top of this tank has been cemented, and round it have been placed railings, thus making of it a splendid “look-out” for any of the townspeople who may choose to promenade upon it. And very popular it was until the strange and terrible happenings of which I have set out to tell.
The Salem Horror
When Carson first noticed the sounds in his cellar, he ascribed them to the rats. Later he began to hear the tales which were whispered by the superstitious Polish mill workers in Derby Street regarding the first occupant of the ancient house, Abigail Prinn.
The Monkey Spoons
“The price,” he said heavily, “is five hundred for the set, if you insist on buying it… But I must tell you this, although I am sure you young people will laugh at me—or perhaps be even more intrigued by these…these devilish spoons! You see, they…” Mr. Sproull gulped. “They are supposed to be cursed.”
The Lost Gods
From the backwaters of the Universe came two Beings—radiant, terrible—to challenge the love of a mortal man and woman!
The Invaders
Big Joe Merklos was the first of them. He appeared at the Wide Bend National Bank one day, cash in hand. The charm of him, his flashing smile, the easy strength in his big body, were persuasive recommendations. But the bank’s appraisal scarcely got that far. Wasn’t he the first buyer in fifteen years for that bone-yard of lonely dreams, Dark Valley?