VENUS HAS GREEN EYES
By CARL SELWYN
Space-trotting Flip Miller was prisoner
of the lovely, cruel Venusian queen. It
looked like star's end for the stubborn-jawed
young Earthling until he remembered that
women are women—on Earth or on Venus!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Fall 1940.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Charlie Mead, trapper, and Flip Miller, ex-prospector, started a forty-day drunk. Charlie just liked the idea. Flip had reasons.
"In a few hours it'll be wetter'n a swamp duck's gullet," said Charlie, grinning behind his whiskers. "And darker'n West Pluto!" Charlie had been trapping otters here for five years and accepted the long nights as resignedly as the mud, the eternal fog and the heat. He poured another glass of loku, squinted at its blue sparkle in the tube-light. The gray mists swirled through the open door and the raw wind whistled through the rusty holes in the wall.
Flip leaned back against the bundles of fur and held up four fingers.
"To hell with the following," he counted, "I.M.C., radios, fuel tanks, and this soggy planet of yours, Venus!"