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Fantasy Fiction Telegram, v. 1, issue 4, January 1937
Page 5
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FANTASY FICTION TELEGRAM Page 5 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ existed poisonous gasses in the atmosphere. Ever since the "Filadelfia" had left Earth, the men and women on board had noticed a peculiar thing. Every sun, large and small, bright and weak, was one of three colors; blue, green, or red. However, one morning a bell tinkled in the room of Gregre 7rmb --- the sign that meant, in the language of the old sailing ships, "All hands on deck." Gregre yawned once, scratching himself aimlessly, and began to dress. He was a young man, slim and supple, with clean cut, regular features. Except for a head that would have taken a size nine hat, he would have passed easily for a man of the twentieth century. The large head was characteristic of his time. Finished, he bounded up the metal steps to the control room. Here he found the scientists gathered together, gesticulating at something that lay ahead in the starry firmament. It was a great, golden sun. It was very large, and very beautiful -- a great, golden-yellow disc, as beautiful and large as they had ever seen. A peculiar feature of it was the noted absence of a corona. Merely a brilliant yellow globe. "Look, Jeen. Up ahead." "Oh... it's beautiful. The first yellow one we've ever seen. And listen! What's that noise?" The all listened carefully. A sweet, singularly distant vibration seemed to permeate the entire ship. It reminded them of a flute - a silver toned flute, playing a swiftly-waving fantasy of intoxicating rhythm. A lone instrument, playing strange, peculiar music. Or was it music? The did non know. Gradually it grew louder - a sweet, vibrant tune -- unthinkably beautiful strain -- it seemed to pulsate with something infinitely strange -- alien. The little group stood rooted to the floor, practically hypnotized by the weird, trilling music, eyes fixed steadily on the great, golden sun. The great ship bored steadily on. The silvery music grew louder. It was only with an effort that they regained possession of their faculties. "What is it?" asked Jeen softly. "I have no idea." answered Gregre. "It certainly is exotic and interesting, isn't it? To use a phrase what our forefathers called 'slang;, it 'gets you'." The ship had stopped and the scientists were busy taking numerous experiments to determine the cause of the melody. Suddenly Jen sat up before his gauges and instruments and answered in an excited voice. "I have made two marvelous discoveries. The golden sun is the cosmic ray machine that supplies this entire universe with cosmic rays! That is why there are so many of them here. And the weird music you have been hearing is the [sound?] given off by these rays [striking?]
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FANTASY FICTION TELEGRAM Page 5 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ existed poisonous gasses in the atmosphere. Ever since the "Filadelfia" had left Earth, the men and women on board had noticed a peculiar thing. Every sun, large and small, bright and weak, was one of three colors; blue, green, or red. However, one morning a bell tinkled in the room of Gregre 7rmb --- the sign that meant, in the language of the old sailing ships, "All hands on deck." Gregre yawned once, scratching himself aimlessly, and began to dress. He was a young man, slim and supple, with clean cut, regular features. Except for a head that would have taken a size nine hat, he would have passed easily for a man of the twentieth century. The large head was characteristic of his time. Finished, he bounded up the metal steps to the control room. Here he found the scientists gathered together, gesticulating at something that lay ahead in the starry firmament. It was a great, golden sun. It was very large, and very beautiful -- a great, golden-yellow disc, as beautiful and large as they had ever seen. A peculiar feature of it was the noted absence of a corona. Merely a brilliant yellow globe. "Look, Jeen. Up ahead." "Oh... it's beautiful. The first yellow one we've ever seen. And listen! What's that noise?" The all listened carefully. A sweet, singularly distant vibration seemed to permeate the entire ship. It reminded them of a flute - a silver toned flute, playing a swiftly-waving fantasy of intoxicating rhythm. A lone instrument, playing strange, peculiar music. Or was it music? The did non know. Gradually it grew louder - a sweet, vibrant tune -- unthinkably beautiful strain -- it seemed to pulsate with something infinitely strange -- alien. The little group stood rooted to the floor, practically hypnotized by the weird, trilling music, eyes fixed steadily on the great, golden sun. The great ship bored steadily on. The silvery music grew louder. It was only with an effort that they regained possession of their faculties. "What is it?" asked Jeen softly. "I have no idea." answered Gregre. "It certainly is exotic and interesting, isn't it? To use a phrase what our forefathers called 'slang;, it 'gets you'." The ship had stopped and the scientists were busy taking numerous experiments to determine the cause of the melody. Suddenly Jen sat up before his gauges and instruments and answered in an excited voice. "I have made two marvelous discoveries. The golden sun is the cosmic ray machine that supplies this entire universe with cosmic rays! That is why there are so many of them here. And the weird music you have been hearing is the [sound?] given off by these rays [striking?]
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