The Nobles Are Coming
By Gene Cross
Together they discussed the
Nobles—the old prospector
and the weary, frightened man.
Then—utter terror struck!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Fantastic Universe October 1954.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
When science fiction clasps hands with the horror story, pure and unadulterated, it's well to make certain you're being guided toward the abyss by competent hands. Gene Cross has the rare gift of lighting up his somber, ghoul-haunted woodlands by flashes of chilling lightning. By suggesting more than he tells he evokes the absolute ultimate in shuddery terror without venturing for a single moment beyond the rust-red hills of Mars.
I rested on reaching what seemed to be the top of the incline, and leaned back against the wall of the cave. For a moment the silence was unbroken. And then in the darkness there was a whisper of movement, an unseen stirring that was stilled by my involuntary, voiceless cry, "What's there!"
With only a blurred memory of having reached for it, I found my gun in my hand.
"Don't shoot!" said a burry voice. "Allow me to introduce myself: Mister J. J. Abrogado, A-b-r-o-g-a-d-o, Serbo-Croat prospector, at your service!"