CON-FEN
By JAMES R. ADAMS
The Shisti and the Assistant Shisti of Mars
chose Chicago, U.S.A., for their vacation spot.
No worries; they were invisible. Plenty of rich
food; the joint was loaded. A whole year of
frolicking in store. Only one thing they
overlooked—there was a curious convention going on.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories May 1953.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The landing on the green planet, Koosh told himself in satisfaction, was one of utmost perfection. Not that that made it unusual, since the Martian craft all but handled itself and invariably performed almost one hundred per cent flawlessly. But Koosh did feel that this landing was a little, just a little, better than average, and his ability as pilot had made it so.
Thuko apparently thought the same, for he touched the other on the back of the neck in brief compliment.
Twirling his eye-stalks in pleasure, Koosh pressed a button on the control panel and arose to follow Thuko to the opening airlock, hopping on one leg, which happened to be all that he or any Martian possessed.
They emerged into warm, late summer air. For a moment they stood, filling their lungs, reveling in the rich, heady atmosphere that was so unlike their own.
"Wonderful, Thuko!" Koosh enthused. "And to think we have a full year of it ahead of us!"