ALCATRAZ OF THE STARWAYS
By ALBERT dePINA and HENRY HASSE
Venus was a world enslaved. And then, like
an avenging angel, fanning the flames of
raging revolt, came a warrior-princess in
whose mind lay dread knowledge—the knowledge
of a weapon so terrible it had been used
but once in the history of the universe.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories May 1943.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
"Purple!" Mark Denning almost sobbed. "A purple Josmian!" Forgetting the sweat in his eyes and the insufferable heat about him, his clutching hand held up the mud-dripping globe the size of a baseball, iridescent in the Venusian night.
The phosphorescent glow that bathed the endless swamp in ghastly green, struck myriad shimmering rainbows from the dark sphere.
"Two more of those and you're free, lower species!" It was an ironic voice, with the resonant sweetness of a cello in its depths, that issued from the haze nearby.
Frantically Mark reached down into the tepid mud, where he had felt the swaying stems of Josmian lilies whip about his knees. Another globe met his hand. He tugged and twisted until it tore from the stem, but when he raised it to the surface, it was white.