Avon Fantasy Reader No. 13 — page 97: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

of Sthalreh, your atomic nature and physical constitution are so different from ours that they were unaffected by the energy that ordinarily transports objects here.” | | a Thus the metal nightmare went rapidly over the control-panel. At length Phobar’s captor, or another thing like him, re-entered when Garboregeg flicked a strange-looking protuberance on the panel. | “You will now be returned to your world,” came the thought of Garbor- eggg. “We shall watch you through our cosmotel to see that you deliver our instructions. Unless the nations of Earth obey us, they will be obliterated at the end of seven days.” | A wild impulse to smash that impassive, metallic monster passed from Phobar as quickly as it came. He was helpless. Sick and despairing, he felt the cold, baffling-colored metal close around him again; once more he was borne aloft for the journey to the laboratory, from there to be propelled back to Earth. | 7 Seven days of grace! But Phobar knew that less than ten minutes re- mained to him. Only here could he possibly accomplish anything. Once off the surface of Xlarbti, there was not the remotest chance that all the ‘nations of Earth could reach the invaders or even attempt to defy them, Yet what could he alone do in a week, to say nothing of ten minutes? He sensed the amused, supercilious contempt of his captor. That was really the greatest obstacle, this ability of theirs to read thought-pictures. And al- ready he had given them enough word-pictures of English so that they could understand. ... : In back of Phobar’s mind the ghost of a desperate thought suddenly came. What was it he had learned years ago in college? Homer—“The Odyssey”— Plutarch. . . . From rusty, disused corners of memory crept forth the half. forgotten words. He bent all his efforts to the task, not daring to think ahead or plan ahead or visualize anything but the Greek words.. He felt the bewilderment of his captor. To throw it off the track, Phobar suddenly let an ancient English nursery rime slip into his thoughts. The disgust that emanated from his captor was laughable; Phobar could have shouted aloud. But the Greek words, . . . | 3 Already the pair had left the mountain-high titan city far behind; they rippled across the smooth, black surface of Xlarbti, and bore like rifle bullets down on the swittly-looming laboratory. In a few minutes it would be too late forever. Now the lost Greek words burst into Phobar’s mind, and, hop- ing against hope, he thought in Greek word-pictures which his captor could not understand. He weighed chances, long shots. Into his brain flashed an idea. . . . But they were upon the laboratory; a stupendous door dissolved weirdly into shimmering haze; they sped through. Phobar’s hand clutched a bulge in his pocket. Would it work? How could it? : | They were beyond the door now and racing across the great expanse of the floor, past the central tower, past the controt-panel which he had first ee , And as if by magic there leaped into Phobar’s mind a clear-cut, vivid P 95 Qa | ie Comiclbooks.conn