Search Results for: flames,-the

An introductory note seems called for to explain to the reader the origin of the following strange document, which I have received from a friend with a view to publication. The author has given it the form of a letter to myself, and he signs himself with his nickname, “Cass,” which is an abbreviation of Cassandra. I have seldom met Cass since we were undergraduates together at Oxford before the war of 1914. Even in those days he was addicted to lurid forebodings, hence his nickname.
My last meeting with him was in one of the great London blitzes of 1941, when he reminded me that he had long ago prophesied the end of civilization in world-wide fire. The Battle of London, he affirmed, was the beginning of the long-drawn-out disaster.

Cass will not, I am sure, mind my saying that he always seemed to us a bit crazy: but he certainly had a queer knack of prophesy, and though we thought him sometimes curiously unable to understand the springs of his own behaviour, he had a remarkable gift of insight into the minds of others. This enabled him to help some of us to straighten out our tangles, and I for one owe him a debt of deep gratitude. He saw me heading for a most disastrous love affair, and by magic (no other word seems adequate) he opened my eyes to the folly of it. It is for this reason that I feel bound to carry out his request to publish the following statement. I cannot myself vouch for its truth. Cass knows very well that I am an inveterate sceptic about all his fantastic ideas. It was on this account that he invented my nickname. “Thos,” which most of my Oxford friends adopted. “Thos,” of course, is an abbreviation for Thomas, and refers to the “doubting Thomas” of the New Testament.

Cass, I feel confident, is sufficiently detached and sane to realize that what is veridical for him may be sheer extravagance for others, who have no direct experience by which to judge his claims. But if I refrain from believing, I also refrain from disbelieving. Too often in the past I have known his wild prophesies come true.

The head of the following bulky letter bears the address of a well-known mental home.

“THOS.”

From out of the gloom in the dungeon where Chandar, Prince of Orin, awaited a tortured death, Sarkond the Enchanter shimmered into reality. His emerald eyes gleamed with an inhuman lustre as, with a soundless command, and without a touch, he mysteriously released the chains which bound Chandar. The prize Sarkond then offered Chandar was freedom, the price – the timeless struggle between two opposing forces… a man who used the secret powers of the universe for his own schemes… a man who vowed to stop him by his own strength and wits.

Five inhabited planets had been shattered to nothingness by the Oligarchs of Brionmar. The sixth was to be Earth…

Searching for the beautiful witch Jemhara, the magician Thryfe at last finds her in the reinvented town of Kandexa, where a strange and passionate wooing begins. From this union a son is born – golden-skinned, red-haired, blue-eyed – and thus the Lionwolf returns to the world of men.

Unaware of this birth, his original mother the goddess Saftri has begun her own search for her lost love Athluan . . . while elsewhere the black and shining ones, the Children of Chillel, seek to establish claims on the ice-locked planet. Beyond, over, under all, the evil god Zzth rages and plans the ruin of these separate and immortal lives.

Strafed by the tumult of such conflicting powers, the be-wintered realm of mortals can only wait to learn its destiny.

Somewhere there was a radioactive fire that could perform miracles of super-science. Somewhere there was a place where cat-people prowled, where time was altered, and incredible mysteries held their secrets of power and fortune for the daring discoverer. Deep in an unexplored jungle, Brian Raft sought the secret of the legendary Valley of the Flame . . .

Let us say that we have a green thing growing forever. Everything that is done is done by it. And on it we also have the red parasite crunching forever; and everything that is undone by that. It is required of each man that he rule over himself in justice, and that he rule over the world in justice. This has gone on forever, though it is hard to trace through garbled history. And it must still is hard to trace through garbled history. And it must still go on forever. For all your own life and for the life of all your children, you will carry on the green battle.

In an age that takes wireless for granted and its beginning to tire of television, it seems incredible that parts of the globe are still unexplored.
Powerful modern steamers connect landmass with landmass, island with peninsula, and archipelago with isthmus. Screaming jets roar through the upper atmosphere, at speeds in excess of a thousand miles an hour.
Yet the mysteries remain. The ancient planet is reluctant to divulge her timeless secrets to the probing, insolent minds of mortal man.
On a remote island, amid weird reef-ridden seas, the Flame Goddess lives on… immortal… undisturbed… alone, save for her primitive worshipers.
And then the white man came…

They dragged the screaming stranger into the asylum. His talk of Fire Gods and universal conquest seemed the ultimate in illusions. Next morning, the padded cell was burnt out…and there was no trace of the prisoner. The door was still locked, still barred.

Perhaps the arson that followed was just a coincidence?

The Brigade Chiefs called in a special investigator. No result. Finally the IPF took a hand and subsequently the investigations pointed to extra galactic interference.

When the psychiatrist, who had originally examined the mysterious ‘fire god’, was questioned the second time things began to add up. Those wild, strange words ha not been the ravings of a maniac but the diabolical threat of an alien entity. A thing with unbelievable power…that threatened the universe itself!

Another classic tale from British SF pulp author John Russel Fearn, here writing as Vargo Statten. Originally published in 1950.

“We have received warning. The Lord of the Flames is loose on Earth once more.”

Once before the Lord of the Flames had been driven halfway across the universe. His return would mean a new era of chaos and conflict for the populace of Earth.

The Lord of the Flames was a strange adversary – a force of evil devoid of physical substance. He sought warmth in unpredictable places: creeping into the soul of a worm or the stem of a flower or the mind of a man.

As the beautiful illusionist Flame succumbs to the dark spell that taints her soul, the physician Kelwyn Gilfeather discovers that the only way to cure her may be to destroy all magic and change the Isles of Glory forever.

Men hammered at phones as the lines burned their hands; distributor caps split, engines flashed into flame as gasoline from torn lines doused their blocks; computers rebelled, barraged their operators with lunatic results. An army of poltergeists was loose, ripping and snapping, jamming beyond all repair the machinery of war.

Born in the radioactive ashes of World War Three the institute for Applied Psychodynamics had guided Planet Earth to a period of plenty that for the first time fulfilled Science’s promise. But it is the central irony of human existence that prosperity bears the seeds of its own destruction; this time not just Earth but the entire Solar System would endure the flames of war.

Orphan-slave Claidi has fought for freedom and won. Now she looks forward to a life of happiness with the wandering Hulta people.
But once again for Claidi, nothing and no-one is as it seems. Secrets menace her; a bewildering land of giant flowers and savage animals; the awesome Rise, a great cliff topped by a mansion ruled by a strange, arrogant, enigmatic Prince. At dusk each night, the rising of the flaming Wolf Star.

One moment Kenniston was strolling down the quiet street, lost in pleasant reverie. The next moment the sky split open!

It split wide open, and above them was a burn and a blaze of light – so swift, so violent, that the air itself seemed to have burst into flame. Then there was silence – awful, suffocating silence.

Kenniston felt the chill of premonition – a shapeless terror that grew into a thing too evil to be borne alone.

Secret agent Tiger Mann has his wedding interrupted by a call to look into the defection of a top Russian spy, Gabin Martrel, who has requested asylum in the US but won’t provide any information.

Tiger figures that he has defected to find an old flame, an Olympic skier named Sonia, and that if he finds her, Martrel will talk.

But a nuclear threat thrown into the mix puts not just American but British national security at risk . . .

Newark . . . Manhattan . . . Baltimore – one by one they went out. A succession of thriving communities suddenly put out like a guttered flame. Men, women, children sprawled like grotesque manikins.

Steve Waldron knew it couldn’t be plague. There had to be some connection with the disappearance of the nation’s top scientists. And then he plunged to the center of a dead city and gaped at an unbelievable truth. What could he do against a force fearsome enough to engulf the entire nation?

The Empire of Toromon had finally declared war. The attacks on its planes had been nothing compared to the final insult – the kidnapping of the Crown Prince.

But how would the members of this civilisation – one of the few that survived the Great Fire – get beyond the deadly radiation barrier, behind which the enemy lay? And assuming they got beyond the barrier, how would they deal with that enemy – the Lord of the Flames – whose very presence was unknown to the people among whom he lived?

A constellation of persons or events will have precedent. It will not appear out of nothing; it’s a converging of previous trails and persons. Before one set of adventures, there was always another set; and before those, still another set, back to the beginning of the world.


We pass from one set to another now, from the Green-Flame adventure to the Half-Sky adventure. We are still in the middle of the nineteenth century, that most unreal of centuries, looking for reality under stodgy and ridiculous surface.

The HUGO AWARD-winning novel of Earth after the apocalypse

In the depths of the Utah desert, long after the Flame Deluge has scoured the earth clean, the rediscoveries of science are secretly nourished by cloistered monks dedicated to the study and preservation of knowledge.

By studying the Holy Relics of the past, the Order of St Leibowitz hopes to raise humanity from its fallen state to one of grace.

But is such knowledge the key to salvation? Or the certain sign that we are doomed to repeat our most grievous mistakes … ?

THE DREAD RETURNS

Jon Meriweather, plucked from his own world to a place where animals walk, talk and cast spells, is pitted once more against a deadly foe. Now he and his strange fellowship must embark on a journey from which none has survived.

His way lies down the treacherous river that winds through the subterranean lair of Massaurath, Mother of Nightmares, across Helldrink through a tunnel of cold flame to the centre of the Earth…

The glowing ovoid plummeted downward, the whole sky screaming like a metallic banshee as the air boiled away from its sides.

A supersonic bang broke over the forest, but the thing was already gliding down to Earth. As the ovoid settled in among the trees, the entire forest burst into flames.

A thin black line appeared and etched a perfect circle on the side of the metal egg, then thickened into a door. The air was rent by a searing hiss. Slowly, the strange being – soon to be known to all mankind as VOR – began to emerge . . .

Between 1956 and 1958, Silverberg contributed dozens of short stories and novellas to the digest pulps, each written in the bombastic, high-adventure style of the original Planet Stories magazine. Since then, those tales have re-appeared only rarely (and sometimes never again) in long out-of-print paperback anthologies. This volume features seven hard-to-find classic Silverberg novellas: Slaves of the Star Giants, Spawn of the Deadly Sea, The Flame and the Hammer, Valley Beyond Time, Hunt the Space-Witch!, The Silent Invaders, and Spacerogue.

Hilary and John Pansel have muddled along in their cottage in the small community of Bryde-by-the-Sea for ten years, hopeful that John’s paintings will ignite a flame of interest in the art world.

Now Hilary is being pursued by a successful writer from London, Dallas Fiennes, who has retreated to Norfolk to write another bestseller to replenish his bank account. For Dallas, Hilary is no more than an amusement – one of many – but when John becomes jealous of Dallas’s attentions, Hilary is driven into the writer’s arms.

Then Fiennes is found dead, and John Pansel is the prime suspect . . .

Two rival sorcerers cast their spells as flames rise above Dreaming Ferranoz, capital of the bright empire of Akkar. Half-human wolflings devour citizens. The conflicting spells meet – and paralyze the city. No one moves, even to breathe. Time stands still. The pall of smoke hangs motionless over unflickering fires.

Outside the city walls, Kandar, prince of Ferranoz, learns that he might save his people – if he can uncover the infamous Trilogy of the Damned, the books of sorcery in whose pages is locked the secret incantation that can free Ferranoz.