Ooop, Glumf

Back when H. G. Wells was writing science fiction stories, trips to the moon and solar system planets made pretty sensational reading. But science fiction has grown up to the extent that Wells' stories are about as exciting as the Ptolemaic system of the Universe. There are whole new planet systems, and a remarkable array of space gadgets, and an amazing repetition of plots.

To the credit of current pulp science fiction writers, they realize that fantasy must have some element of reality. And the best kind of reality is sex. Sometimes spatial experiences draw a Venusian lass and the captain of a space ship to a common understanding. Or an eloped couple find bliss on a planet called, ironically enough, Eros.

One of the most valuable devices in space is a little something called an electrowriter. It makes all communication between different planetary inhabitants possible. "Hlan's fingers played upon the keyboard, and a mechanical voice intoned, 'I am Hlan-Glea, Elder of this village. I bid you welcome.'" The electrowriter works with all peoples, including the Glumf, Yligth, Sreep, Ooop, and the Ghaag.

Another wonderful invention that revolutionized the space-tugging business in about 2500 A.D. was the magnetic field grapple. First used in towing the "Reliance" after she had been bombarded by an uncharted swarm of meteorites, it thereafter saved many a derelict from disaster.

Television, too, plays an important part in the future world, but with certain improvements. It is interplanetary, in full color, and does not employ any cameras. Called tridco, it is one of the chief entertainments on the future earth. "They might be on this dull old planet for years. . . . It was much pleasanter to doze in the rays of Jupiter and dream of home. Leatrice missed the tridi, the plays, the bright talk and the glitter, the dances and the weekends in New York."

But even with all the boredom of interplanetary travel, a lusty earthman can still lift his voice in a space chanty:

"She was only a poor Martian's daughter,

But she sure made Deimos of her charms. . . .

With Una from Luna, I'll head for Altoona,

And never, no never, no more shall I roam,

"Spud's voice grew thick with nostalgia as he sang."

Getting back to reality, as most of the science fiction writers seem to do, passions seem to run as high in space as in any pulp magazine: "There was a crooning, dangerous, hypnotic quality to the voice--and yet it was warm and sweet, like mrfii-honey flowing over the lichen rocks of Phobos. Mac Marty felt his pulse quicken." There are also adverse affects of mating on distant planets, but only villains are susceptible. "Lucia's baby was born. The baby came at night. It did not live more than a few hours. But it shone in the dark."