THE ULTIMATE EVE
By H. SANFORD EFFRON
Her creators had no doubt of her
effectiveness. She would conquer this
planet ... the armed might of
Earth would vanish before her.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Winter 1954.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The sun had not yet taken the chill out of the early April morning that broke on the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, when the ship settled to the ground. It was surprisingly large compared to the aircraft native to this planet, and yet ridiculously small to have brought enough men and material to launch an invasion across light years of space.
The landing went unobserved in this fearful year of 1955. The world faced too many crucial crises of their own making to consider the necessity to be watchful for an extra-terrestrial invasion.
Hardly had the craft come to rest, when the outer lock slid noiselessly open and a small ladder-like stairway came down until it too had touched earth.
A man appeared in the doorway, pausing to study the landscape which lay before him. His features, his body, were human. Despite his being too well muscled, and his face unusually handsome, he would never have aroused suspicion of being from another planet.
Grunting in satisfaction, he permitted himself the pleasure of being proud at having landed so near the cabin chosen as his goal. It had been a wise choice, this picking of so well isolated a place as a testing ground for the weapon. A wisp of smoke, a dark smudge against the rich blueness of the sky, attested to the cabin's occupancy. What he was about to do seemed fitting, for even the scientists of this planet had used animal life to test their own puny weapons. Now he, man, would be the guinea pig to prove the devastation to be wrought against all mankind native to this world.