The Madcap Metalloids
By W. V. ATHANAS
Plucked from the space-lanes by its ravening
magnetism, the two intrepid Terrans defied the
death of this deadly radio-active worldlet
by playing games with the roly-poly natives!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Summer 1949.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Jonathan Drake swam back to consciousness as a bubble rises through molasses—slowly, and with great effort. His arms lay heavily on the padded rests of the shock-chair, and his lids drooped persistently despite the shouted commands of his brain. A bubble of air rose reluctantly up his throat to operate his paralyzed vocal cords.
"Doc," he croaked. "Doc?" The words bounced off the polished metal walls of the room. There was no sound after that but the soft purr of the control board.
Jonathan walked his hand along the arm rest like a spider, each finger a leg drawing the weighted hand a step further like a tremendous body. Finally a finger found the cup of the release button, and the pneumatic pads fell free of thigh, belly and chest. He slid the button forward and the shock-seat tilted him forward and decanted him gently onto the floor.
He could hear Doc breathing now, the sound of it harsh above the quiet humming of the dynamics, and he rolled on over and heaved his body off the floor with both arms.
"Puny," he muttered to himself. "Weak as a baby. Must have been a rough landing."