DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Planeteer Magazine, v. 2, isssue 1, March 1939

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Planeteer Magazine, v. 2, isssue 1, March 1939

Page 15

where he had left the ship, a twisted mass of wreckage.  He had been so confident, so arrogant when he had come into the little atmosphere of Mars.  He had never crashed in his life, so!  why should he crash now.  With a twist and a flip of his wrist she was to zoom into a level flight over the dessert towards the city Markolia, but instead with a twist and flip she lay on his back to him.  And he, sprawled on the hot pumice sand.  His radio wrecked, his ship about to blow up any minute, he had nothing else to do but, head for Markolia across the Martian dessert.
  "Yah!  I'll make it!  A million to none chance.  Just keep on pushing, yeah, that's what I'll do and by God I'll make it.  I'll make it and get that damned mechanic who took care of my ship.  Yah!  and when I do get him I'll wrap his legs around his neck and make him eat the soles of his boots.
  Suddenly he was thrown to the ground as a fierce gust of wind bowled him over, and almost immediately he was covered with the fine pumice.  But before he could be weighted down with it he staggered to his feet.  Cursing all the more at the buffeting wind, the sand, and all creation he di not notice the slimy creature slither through the swirling sand, and if he did, he would have cursed it all the more.
  Maybe it was instinct or maybe it was sixth sense, that made him turn in time to be missed by a vicious swipe by the thing.
  An ejaculation of surprise escaped his lips as he saw the creature.  A scavenger of Mars, it was generally known as the Sword Vulture.  It was a curios creature, somwhat like a rat, except that it was way larger.  Protruding from the middle of it's forehead was a horn.
  Exceptionally long it extended along it's nose and way past it, looking somewhat as our Earthian Sword fish.  All in all it stodo three feet long, two feet high. 
  Rocky shuddered with disgust as he recalled the habits of the scavenger.  For it seems that every planet had a creature that feeds on the dead.  However, this creature not only ate the dead but tried to kill it's own food.  Upon sighting an animal or man it would run it through with it's accursed sword.  Insansenant in it's greed it would slash and rip swallowing raw meat.  It would burrow way deep, in man or beast and keep on eating until it died, or was satisfied, which it never was.

  Rocky grabbed the knife at this side and watch warily for a chance to kill the Vulture.  Meanwhile, scrambling and dodging its mad swipes he would slash with his knife at every opportunity.  Suddenly he stumbled and fell over a mound od sand on to his back.  A stinging pain went through his leg as the scavenger sent it's sword though it.  His leg burning with pain he slashed at the rodent in a mad fury.
  The animal in it's struggles to escape the knife, squirmed and wriggled about.
It's sword gashing the leg into a raw, bleeding mass of meat.  Finaly, cut into ribbons, the animal moved no more, for death had claimed It.  But, it was still lodged in Rocky's leg.  Haing been without food the better part of the day, and his mouth swollen with thirst, and now such pain as he had never felt before, he began to slump into unconsciousness.
  He fought against it, and struggled to get up.  Only to

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where he had left the ship, a twisted mass of wreckage. He had been so confident, so arrogant when he had come into the little atmosphere of Mars. He had never crashed in his life, so! why should he crash now. With a twist and a flip of his wrist she was to zoom into a level flight over the dessert towards the city Markolia, but instead with a twist and flip she lay on his back to him. And he, sprawled on the hot pumice sand. His radio wrecked, his ship about to blow up any minute, he had nothing else to do but, head for Markolia across the Martian dessert. "Yah! I'll make it! A million to none chance. Just keep on pushing, yeah, that's what I'll do and by God I'll make it. I'll make it and get that damned mechanic who took care of my ship. Yah! and when I do get him I'll wrap his legs around his neck and make him eat the soles of his boots. Suddenly he was thrown to the ground as a fierce gust of wind bowled him over, and almost immediately he was covered with the fine pumice. But before he could be weighted down with it he staggered to his feet. Cursing all the more at the buffeting wind, the sand, and all creation he di not notice the slimy creature slither through the swirling sand, and if he did, he would have cursed it all the more. Maybe it was instinct or maybe it was sixth sense, that made him turn in time to be missed by a vicious swipe by the thing. An ejaculation of surprise escaped his lips as he saw the creature. A scavenger of Mars, it was generally known as the Sword Vulture. It was a curios creature, somwhat like a rat, except that it was way larger. Protruding from the middle of it's forehead was a horn. Exceptionally long it extended along it's nose and way past it, looking somewhat as our Earthian Sword fish. All in all it stodo three feet long, two feet high. Rocky shuddered with disgust as he recalled the habits of the scavenger. For it seems that every planet had a creature that feeds on the dead. However, this creature not only ate the dead but tried to kill it's own food. Upon sighting an animal or man it would run it through with it's accursed sword. Insansenant in it's greed it would slash and rip swallowing raw meat. It would burrow way deep, in man or beast and keep on eating until it died, or was satisfied, which it never was. Rocky grabbed the knife at this side and watch warily for a chance to kill the Vulture. Meanwhile, scrambling and dodging its mad swipes he would slash with his knife at every opportunity. Suddenly he stumbled and fell over a mound od sand on to his back. A stinging pain went through his leg as the scavenger sent it's sword though it. His leg burning with pain he slashed at the rodent in a mad fury. The animal in it's struggles to escape the knife, squirmed and wriggled about. It's sword gashing the leg into a raw, bleeding mass of meat. Finaly, cut into ribbons, the animal moved no more, for death had claimed It. But, it was still lodged in Rocky's leg. Haing been without food the better part of the day, and his mouth swollen with thirst, and now such pain as he had never felt before, he began to slump into unconsciousness. He fought against it, and struggled to get up. Only to