"Did you ever wonder at the lonely life the bird in a cuckoo clock has to lead --" wrote the editor of "Fantastic Universe" in January, 1954, blurbing this tale "-- that it might possibly love and hate just as easily as a real animal of flesh and blood? Philip Dick used that idea for this brief fantasy tale. We're sure that after reading it you'll give cuckoo clocks more respect."
How could this man awaken with no past--no childhood--no recollection except of a vague world of terror from which his mother cried out for vengeance and the slaughter of his own people stood as a monument of infamy?
Eighteen men and two women in the closed world of a space ship for five months can only spell tension and trouble--but in this case, the atmosphere was "literally" poisoned.
Out on the ice-buried planet, Commander Red Stone led his Free Companions to almost certain death. They died for a dangerous dream that had only one chance in a thousand trillion to come true. Is there a better reason for dying?
Lane Fleming was a prominent collector of antique firearms. One night when he was working in his gunroom on a new acquisition, a shot rang out and he was found dead on the floor. The coroner somewhat hastily ruled that the death was an accident; more sober heads assumed it was suicide, but that the truth was hushed up for fear of scuppering a major takeover deal involving Fleming's company.
Neal ("Storm") Cloud, nucleonic genius, set out in his spaceship *Vortex Blaster* to track and destroy the vortices. What he finds extends far beyond any threat of nature.