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Polaris, v. 1, issue 4, September 1940
Page 14
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14 POLARIS credibly, strange woman-shapes with wings. "What the devil....?" "The Valkyrie", said Wotan, watching the darting shapes with a fond gleam in his eye. "They choose the dead from the battlefield, and decide who shall have a place of honour in Valhalla. Watch!" Fascinated, Prentiss watched as the angels of death swooped down into the smoke, their bodies straight and slim, their pinions beating fiercely against the air. These shapes went diving, twisting down into the haze, and then came up again, each bearing a shattered body. "Can we see them closer?" he asked suddenly, not knowing why he should be anxious to see the gruesome remains at close quarters, but impelled to enquire by some force within himself that was not of himself. In a moment the scene changed, becoming amazingly large, as though a huge telescope had been extended. Prentiss shrank back instinctively, so huge and realistic did it seem. He was looking into the unbelievably beautiful face of a Valkyrie, stern but glorious, with tresses of wind-whipped hair streaming from her head or falling in confusion about her breast, to which she clasped a man, torn and bloody. As she rose he looked down at the man's face and screamed. "That's impossible!" he cried. "That's me - and I'm here - I'm alive; it can't be me!" "No, of course not", said Wotan, but his voice was different, more human, and when Prentiss opened his eyes he saw the doctor leaning over him. "I'm alive, aren't i?" he gasped, clutching the edge of the sheet, which was almost torn to ribbons. "I can't be dead". "Of course you can't", said the doctor. "You shouldn't worry about dreams. You're alive, and you'll be alive for a long time yet." In this he lied; scarcely a second after he had finished speaking a bomb hit the hospital, which went aloft in a fountain of smoke and splinters. Two soldiers nearby hauled themselves out of the ditch into which they had been hurled by the force of the explosion, and looked at the heavy pall of smoke grimly. "Of all the lousy things to do", said one; "comin' over here to bomb our hospitals, just for spite". But the other ignored him. He gazed in rapt wonder at the smoke, blinking rather foolishly, and emitting a slight whistle from his mouth. Later, when he told what he had seen, his comrades were not ribald - too many curious things were seen in the days of war to be incredulous and scornful - but they did not really believe what they heard. It did seem a little far-fetched to imagine a winged woman rising from the wreckage with a man in her arms. THE END - - - - Read Snide The Thud and Blunder Magazine Damon Knight 803 Columbia Street Hood River, Oregon
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14 POLARIS credibly, strange woman-shapes with wings. "What the devil....?" "The Valkyrie", said Wotan, watching the darting shapes with a fond gleam in his eye. "They choose the dead from the battlefield, and decide who shall have a place of honour in Valhalla. Watch!" Fascinated, Prentiss watched as the angels of death swooped down into the smoke, their bodies straight and slim, their pinions beating fiercely against the air. These shapes went diving, twisting down into the haze, and then came up again, each bearing a shattered body. "Can we see them closer?" he asked suddenly, not knowing why he should be anxious to see the gruesome remains at close quarters, but impelled to enquire by some force within himself that was not of himself. In a moment the scene changed, becoming amazingly large, as though a huge telescope had been extended. Prentiss shrank back instinctively, so huge and realistic did it seem. He was looking into the unbelievably beautiful face of a Valkyrie, stern but glorious, with tresses of wind-whipped hair streaming from her head or falling in confusion about her breast, to which she clasped a man, torn and bloody. As she rose he looked down at the man's face and screamed. "That's impossible!" he cried. "That's me - and I'm here - I'm alive; it can't be me!" "No, of course not", said Wotan, but his voice was different, more human, and when Prentiss opened his eyes he saw the doctor leaning over him. "I'm alive, aren't i?" he gasped, clutching the edge of the sheet, which was almost torn to ribbons. "I can't be dead". "Of course you can't", said the doctor. "You shouldn't worry about dreams. You're alive, and you'll be alive for a long time yet." In this he lied; scarcely a second after he had finished speaking a bomb hit the hospital, which went aloft in a fountain of smoke and splinters. Two soldiers nearby hauled themselves out of the ditch into which they had been hurled by the force of the explosion, and looked at the heavy pall of smoke grimly. "Of all the lousy things to do", said one; "comin' over here to bomb our hospitals, just for spite". But the other ignored him. He gazed in rapt wonder at the smoke, blinking rather foolishly, and emitting a slight whistle from his mouth. Later, when he told what he had seen, his comrades were not ribald - too many curious things were seen in the days of war to be incredulous and scornful - but they did not really believe what they heard. It did seem a little far-fetched to imagine a winged woman rising from the wreckage with a man in her arms. THE END - - - - Read Snide The Thud and Blunder Magazine Damon Knight 803 Columbia Street Hood River, Oregon
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