(1/15) The Golden Age of Science Fiction: An Anthology of 50 Short Stories
Various
(1/15) The Golden Age of Science Fiction: An Anthology of 50 Short Stories
Various
Series: 15 [1]
Published: 2010
* * *
This Halcyon Classics ebook collection contains fifty science fiction short stories by more than forty authors. Many of the stories in this collection were published during the heyday of popular science fiction magazines from the 1930s to the 1950s.
Included within this work are stories by Poul Anderson, Jules Verne, H.G. Wells, Phillip K. Dick, Randall Garrett, Paul Ernst, Kurt Vonnegut, Jack Williamson, Phillip Jose Farmer, Lester Del Rey, Leigh Brackett, Fredric Brown, Murray Leinster, Ben Bova, and many others.
This collection is DRM free and includes an active table of contents for easy navigation.
Contents:
A Strange Manuscript found in a Copper Cylinder (James De Mille)
A World by the Tale (Randall Garrett)
A World is Born (Leigh Brackett)
Accidental Death (Peter Baily)
Arena (Fredric Brown)
Atom Boy (Ray Cummings)
Beyond Lies the Wub (Phillip K. Dick)
Blind Spot (Bascom Jones)
Cully (Jack Egan)
Dead Giveaway (Randall Garrett)
Dead Ringer (Lester Del Rey)
Dead World (Jack Douglas)
Divinity (Joseph Samachson)
Four Miles Within (Anthony Gilmore)
Heist Job on Thizar (Randall Garrett)
Hex (Laurence Janifer)
In the Year 2889 (Jules Verne)
Indulgence of Negu Mah (Robert Arthur)
Lease to Doomsday (Lee Archer)
Lost in Translation (Laurence Janifer)
McIlvane’s Star (August Derleth)
Missing Link (Frank Herbert)
Next Logical Step (Ben Bova)
Pandemic (J.F. Bone)
Remember the Alamo (T.R. Fehrenbach)
Salvage in Space (Jack Williamson)
Security (Poul Anderson)
Subspace Survivors (E.E. “Doc” Smith)
The Aliens (Murray Leinster)
The Big Trip Up Yonder (Kurt Vonnegut)
The Chronic Argonauts (H.G. Wells)
The Cosmic Express (Jack Williamson)
The Day Time Stopped Moving (Bradner Buckner)
The Eternal Wall (Raymond Z. Gallun)
The Gifts of Asti (Andre Norton)
The Hated (Frederick Pohl)
The Last Evolution (John W. Campbell)
The Man Who Saw the Future (Edmond Hamilton)
The Memory of Mars (Raymond F. Jones)
The Moon is Green (Fritz Leiber)
The Nothing Equation (Tom Godwin)
The Power and the Glory (Charles W. Diffin)
The Radiant Shell (Paul Ernst)
The Stoker and the Stars (Algis Budrys)
The Street That Wasn’t There (Carl Jacobi and Clifford D. Simak)
The World Behind the Moon (Paul Ernst)
There is a Reaper (Charles De Vet)
They Twinkled Like Jewels (Phillip José Farmer)
Waste Not, Want (Dave Dryfoos)
Year of the Big Thaw (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
(1/15) The Golden Age of Science Fiction: An Anthology of 50 Short Stories
Various
Series: 15 [1]
Published: 2010
* * *
Halcyon Classics Series
THE GOLDEN AGE OF SCIENCE FICTION:
AN ANTHOLOGY OF 50 SHORT STORIES
Contents
A Strange Manuscript found in a Copper Cylinder (James De Mille)
A World by the Tale (Randall Garrett)
A World is Born (Leigh Brackett)
Accidental Death (Peter Baily)
Arena (Fredric Brown)
Atom Boy (Ray Cummings)
Beyond Lies the Wub (Phillip K. Dick)
Blind Spot (Bascom Jones)
Cully (Jack Egan)
Dead Giveaway (Randall Garrett)
Dead Ringer (Lester Del Rey)
Dead World (Jack Douglas)
Divinity (Joseph Samachson)
Four Miles Within (Anthony Gilmore)
Heist Job on Thizar (Randall Garrett)
Hex (Laurence Janifer)
In the Year 2889 (Jules Verne)
Indulgence of Negu Mah (Robert Arthur)
Lease to Doomsday (Lee Archer)
Lost in Translation (Laurence Janifer)
McIlvane’s Star (August Derleth)
Missing Link (Frank Herbert)
Next Logical Step (Ben Bova)
Pandemic (J.F. Bone)
Remember the Alamo (T.R. Fehrenbach)
Salvage in Space (Jack Williamson)
Security (Poul Anderson)
Subspace Survivors (E.E. "Doc" Smith)
The Aliens (Murray Leinster)
The Big Trip Up Yonder (Kurt Vonnegut)
The Chronic Argonauts (H.G. Wells)
The Cosmic Express (Jack Williamson)
The Day Time Stopped Moving (Bradner Buckner)
The Eternal Wall (Raymond Z. Gallun)
The Gifts of Asti (Andre Norton)
The Hated (Frederick Pohl)
The Last Evolution (John W. Campbell)
The Man Who Saw the Future (Edmond Hamilton)
The Memory of Mars (Raymond F. Jones)
The Moon is Green (Fritz Leiber)
The Nothing Equation (Tom Godwin)
The Power and the Glory (Charles W. Diffin)
The Radiant Shell (Paul Ernst)
The Stoker and the Stars (Algis Budrys)
The Street That Wasn’t There (Carl Jacobi and Clifford D. Simak)
The World Behind the Moon (Paul Ernst)
There is a Reaper (Charles De Vet)
They Twinkled Like Jewels (Phillip José Farmer)
Waste Not, Want (Dave Dryfoos)
Year of the Big Thaw (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
* * *
Contents
A STRANGE MANUSCRIPT FOUND IN A COPPER CYLINDER
By James De Mille
CHAPTER I
THE FINDING OF THE COPPER CYLINDER
It occurred as far back as February 15, 1850. It happened on that day that the yacht Falcon lay becalmed upon the ocean between the Canaries and the Madeira Islands. This yacht Falcon was the property of Lord Featherstone, who, being weary of life in England, had taken a few congenial friends for a winter's cruise in these southern latitudes. They had visited the Azores, the Canaries, and the Madeira Islands, and were now on their way to the Mediterranean.
The wind had failed, a deep calm had succeeded, and everywhere, as far as the eye could reach, the water was smooth and glassy. The yacht rose and fell at the impulse of the long ocean undulations, and the creaking of the spars sounded out a lazy accompaniment to the motion of the vessel. All around was a watery horizon, except in the one place only, toward the south, where far in the distance the Peak of Teneriffe rose into the air.
The profound calm, the warm atmosphere, the slow pitching of the yacht, and the dull creaking of the spars all combined to lull into a state of indolent repose the people on board. Forward were the crew; some asleep, others smoking, others playing cards. At the stern were Oxenden, the intimate friend of Featherstone, and Dr. Congreve, who had come in the double capacity of friend and medical attendant. These two, like the crew, were in a state of dull and languid repose. Suspended between the two masts, in an Indian hammock, lay Featherstone, with a cigar in his mouth and a novel in his hand, which he was pret
ending to read. The fourth member of the party, Melick, was seated near the mainmast, folding some papers in a peculiar way. His occupation at length attracted the roving eyes of Featherstone, who poked forth his head from his hammock, and said in a sleepy voice:
"I say, Melick, you're the most energetic fellah I ever saw. By Jove! you're the only one aboard that's busy. What are you doing?"
"Paper boats," said Melick, in a business-like tone.
"Paper boats! By Jove!" said Featherstone. "What for?"
"I'm going to have a regatta," said Melick. "Anything to kill time, you know."
"By Jove!" exclaimed Featherstone again, raising himself higher in his hammock, "that's not a bad idea. A wegatta! By Jove! glowious! glowious! I say, Oxenden, did you hear that?"
"What do you mean by a regatta?" asked Oxenden, lazily.
"Oh, I mean a race with these paper boats. We can bet on them, you know."
At this Featherstone sat upright, with his legs dangling out of the hammock.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed again. "Betting! So we can. Do you know, Melick, old chap, I think that's a wegular piece of inspiration. A wegatta! and we can bet on the best boat."
"But there isn't any wind," said Oxenden.
"Well, you know, that's the fun of it," said Melick, who went solemnly on as he spoke, folding his paper boats; "that's the fun of it. For you see if there was a wind we should be going on ourselves, and the regatta couldn't come off; but, as it is, the water is just right. You pick out your boat, and lay your bet on her to race to some given point."
"A given point? But how can we find any?"
"Oh, easily enough; something or anything--a bubble'll do, or we can pitch out a bit of wood."
Upon this Featherstone descended from his perch, and came near to examine the proceedings, while the other two, eager to take advantage of the new excitement, soon joined him. By this time Melick had finished his paper boats. There were four of them, and they were made of different colors, namely, red, green, yellow, and white.
"I'll put these in the water," said Melick, "and then we can lay our bets on them as we choose. But first let us see if there is anything that can be taken as a point of arrival. If there isn't anything, I can pitch out a bit of wood, in any direction which may seem best."
Saying this, he went to the side, followed by the others, and all looked out carefully over the water.
"There's a black speck out there," said Oxenden.
"So there is," said Featherstone. "That'll do. I wonder what it is?"
"Oh, a bit of timber," said Melick. "Probably the spar of some ship."
"It don't look like a spar," said the doctor; "it's only a round spot, like the float of some net."
"Oh, it's a spar," said Melick. "It's one end of it, the rest is under water."
The spot thus chosen was a dark, circular object, about a hundred yards away, and certainly did look very much like the extremity of some spar, the rest of which was under water. Whatever it was, however, it served well enough for their present purpose, and no one took any further interest in it, except as the point toward which the paper boats should run in their eventful race.
Melick now let himself down over the side, and placed the paper boats on the water as carefully as possible. After this the four stood watching the little fleet in silence. The water was perfectly still, and there was no perceptible wind, but there were draughts of air caused by the rise and fall of the yacht, and these affected the tiny boats. Gradually they drew apart, the green one drifting astern, the yellow one remaining under the vessel, while the red and the white were carried out in the direction where they were expected to go, with about a foot of space between them.
"Two to one on the red!" cried Featherstone, betting on the one which had gained the lead.
"Done," said Melick, promptly taking his offer.
Oxenden made the same bet, which was taken by Melick and the doctor.
Other bets were now made as to the direction which they would take, as to the distance by which the red would beat the white, as to the time which would be occupied by the race, and as to fifty other things which need not be mentioned. All took part in this; the excitement rose high and the betting went on merrily. At length it was noticed that the white was overhauling the red. The excitement grew intense; the betting changed its form, but was still kept up, until at last the two paper boats seemed blended together in one dim spot which gradually faded out of sight.
It was now necessary to determine the state of the race, so Featherstone ordered out the boat. The four were soon embarked, and the men rowed out toward the point which had been chosen as the end of the race. On coming near they found the paper boats stuck together, saturated with water, and floating limp on the surface. An animated discussion arose about this. Some of the bets were off, but others remained an open question, and each side insisted upon a different view of the case. In the midst of this, Featherstone's attention was drawn to the dark spot already mentioned as the goal of the race.
"That's a queer-looking thing," said he, suddenly. "Pull up, lads, a little; let's see what it is. It doesn't look to me like a spar."
The others, always on the lookout for some new object of interest, were attracted by these words, and looked closely at the thing in question. The men pulled. The boat drew nearer.
"It's some sort of floating vessel," said Oxenden.
"It's not a spar," said Melick, who was at the bow.
And as he said this he reached out and grasped at it. He failed to get it, and did no more than touch it. It moved easily and sank, but soon came up again. A second time he grasped at it, and with both hands. This time he caught it, and then lifted it out of the water into the boat. These proceedings had been watched with the deepest interest; and now, as this curious floating thing made its appearance among them, they all crowded around it in eager excitement.
"It looks like a can of preserved meat," said the doctor.
"It certainly is a can," said Melick, "for it's made of metal; but as to preserved meat, I have my doubts."
The article in question was made of metal and was cylindrical in shape. It was soldered tight and evidently contained something. It was about eighteen inches long and eight wide. The nature of the metal was not easily perceptible, for it was coated with slime, and covered over about half its surface with barnacles and sea-weed. It was not heavy, and would have floated higher out of the water had it not been for these encumbrances.
"It's some kind of preserved meat," said the doctor. "Perhaps something good--game, I dare say--yes, Yorkshire game-pie. They pot all sorts of things now."
"If it's game," said Oxenden, "it'll be rather high by this time. Man alive! look at those weeds and shells. It must have been floating for ages."
"It's my belief," said Featherstone, "that it's part of the provisions laid in by Noah for his long voyage in the ark. So come, let's open it, and see what sort of diet the antediluvians had."
"It may be liquor," said Oxenden.
Melick shook his head.
"No," said he; "there's something inside, but whatever it is, it isn't liquor. It's odd, too. The thing is of foreign make, evidently. I never saw anything like it before. It may be Chinese."
"By Jove!" cried Featherstone, "this is getting exciting. Let's go back to the yacht and open it."
The men rowed back to the yacht.
"It's meat of some sort," continued the doctor. "I'm certain of that. It has come in good time. We can have it for dinner."
"You may have my share, then," said Oxenden. "I hereby give and bequeath to you all my right, title, and interest in and to anything in the shape of meat that may be inside."
"Meat cans," said Melick, "are never so large as that."
"Oh, I don't know about that," said the doctor, "they make up pretty large packages of pemmican for the arctic expeditions."
"But they never pack up pemmican in copper cylinders," said Melick, who had been using his knife to scrape off the crust from
the vessel.
"Copper!" exclaimed Oxenden. "Is it copper?"
"Look for yourselves," said Melick, quietly.
They all looked, and could see, where the knife had cut into the vessel, that it was as he said. It was copper.
"It's foreign work," said Melick. "In England we make tin cans for everything. It may be something that's drifted out from Mogadore or some port in Morocco."
"In that case," said Oxenden, "it may contain the mangled remains of one of the wives of some Moorish pasha."
By this time they had reached the yacht and hurried aboard. All were eager to satisfy their curiosity. Search was made for a cold-chisel, but to no purpose. Then Featherstone produced a knife which was used to open sardine boxes, but after a faithful trial this proved useless. At length Melick, who had gone off in search of something more effective, made his appearance armed with an axe. With this he attacked the copper cylinder, and by means of a few dexterous blows succeeded in cutting it open. Then he looked in.
"What do you see?" asked Featherstone.
"Something," said Melick, "but I can't quite make it out."
"If you can't make it out, then shake it out," said Oxenden.
Upon this Melick took the cylinder, turned it upside down, shook it smartly, and then lifted it and pounded it against the deck. This served to loosen the contents, which seemed tightly packed, but came gradually down until at length they could be seen and drawn forth. Melick drew them forth, and the contents of the mysterious copper cylinder resolved themselves into two packages.
The sight of these packages only served to intensify their curiosity. If it had been some species of food it would at once have revealed itself, but these packages suggested something more important. What could they be? Were there treasures inside--jewels, or golden ornaments from some Moorish seraglio, or strange coin from far Cathay?
One of the packages was very much larger than the other. It was enclosed in wrappers made of some coarse kind of felt, bound tight with strong cords. The other was much smaller, and, was folded in the same material without being bound. This Melick seized and began to open.
"Wait a minute," said Featherstone. "Let's make a bet on it. Five guineas that it's some sort of jewels!"
