A TOOTHACHE ON ZENOB
BY BOYD ELLANBEE
Strange to think that from twenty-odd
light-years away, other eyes see our own Sun
blazing in the middle of a familiar constellation....
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of If Science Fiction, October 1958.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Pehn Karn sat in the signal dome, idly waiting while his friend, adjusted the dials of the receiver. The recording tape spilled over the table in loops of aluminum.
"Doesn't this job get dull?" he inquired.
Nautunal turned the fifth dial a few degrees, and glanced up. "Depends on your interest. It's true this is just routine space-sweep, but noise from space is amazingly variegated. Just one more sector to scan tonight, and I'll be through. What's matter with you, Pehn? Your face looks little lopsided."
Pehn tried to grin, and fingered the slight swelling on his cheek. "My face will never be my fortune, I guess. I don't know what's matter. Just ache."