Pulp Fiction, 1954 · page 144 of 330
Adventures in the Far Future & Tales of Outer Space — page 144: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1954. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Striker actually saw houses rolling three per minute from the assembly line. Then Striker took a fairly long jump through time—fifty years—and landed smack in the middle of a second civil war, this time between the East and the West. And this time there was direct participation by the foreign nations. America was the battleground of the world. There wasn’t a Square foot in the corn belt that hadn’t been poisoned, Shelled or bombed by one side or the other. New Yorkers were living in their vast subway system on canned goods when Striker looked in. They were mentally in the same State of dumb terror that always grips the small man when he is crushed between two forces which he does not understand. In Los Angeles things were worse, because the people there had no subways to protect themselves from the Asian bombers that were flying over nightly from the Land of the Rising Sun—on behalf of the Allegheny States—to lay their eggs. The wheels had stopped turning in Hollywood; by tuning in on some Army high-ups, Striker found out that production facilities were scattered over most of Arizona, under the sand. He located one of these and projected his mind into an empty battle tank as it was being trucked out to a distribution point near ruined Tucson, blasted to powder years ago. The tank was manned by a foul-mouthed youth, about seventeen, who ferried it to Albuquerque, New Mexico, where it joined several thousand others. A more experienced hand took over. From the conversation Striker realized that they were going to try to get through to Springfield, Ohio, and to cut off the Easterners from the Great Lakes. The monster division of tanks met opposition in some very solid forts, rolling over them at great cost in life and fire-opower. For the next week they kept moving, slower and Slower, harried by planes and infantry. When Striker’s tank CORniclooo SS (SO)