Bøker av Ray Cummings

The Anthology of Sci-Fi V8 is a collection of five si-fi stories from some of the most prolific writers of the past century. Included are: Monsters of Moyen by Arthur J. Burks, The World Behind the Moon by Paul Ernst, Phantoms of Reality by Ray Cummings, Vortex Blaster by Edward E. Smith, The World Beyond by Ray Cummings.

The new planet caem out of the infinite deeps of insterstellar space, moved in towards the sunlike a comet, and stayed -- a new member of the Solar System, between Earth and Venus. Xenephrene it was named and it made a pretty vision in the evening sky . . . until other things began to appear in the heavens. flying things, strange visitants, myterious lights -- and people knew then that they were no longer alone. Xenephrene was inhabited, and its inhabitants were discovering the Earth. But were they coming as friends or as invaders? For trade or for conquest? Ray Cummings (1887-1957) was an American science fiction writer and one of the "founding fathers of the science fiction pulp genre."

A CLASSIC NOVEL OF INTERPLANETARY WARFARE!There were nine major planets in the Solar System, and it was within their boundaries that man first set up interplanetary commerce and began trading with the ancient Martian civilization. And then they discovered a tenth planet -- a maverick!This tenth world, if it had an orbit, had a strange one, for it was heading inwards from interstellar space, heading close to the Earth-Mars spaceways, upsetting astronautic calculations and raising turmoil on the two inhabited worlds.But even so none suspected then just how much trouble this new world would make. For it was WANDL THE INVADER and it was no barren planetoid. It was a manned world, manned by minds and monsters and traveling into our system with a purpose beyond that of astronomical accident!

Don's shotgun went up. "Bob, we'll hold our ground. Is it--is he armed, can you see?" "No! Can't tell." Armed! What nonsense! How could this wraith, this apparition, do us physical injury! "If--if he gets too close, Bob, by God, I'll shoot. But if he's human, I wouldn't want to kill him." The shape had stopped again. It was fifty feet from us now, and we could clearly see that it was a man, taller than normal. He stood now with folded arms--a man strangely garbed in what seemed a white, tight-fitting jacket and short trunks. On his head was a black skull cap surmounted by a helmet of strange design. Don's voice suddenly echoed across the rocks. "Who are you?" The white figure gave no answer. It did not move. "We see you. What do you want?" Don repeated. Then it moved again. Partly toward us and partly sidewise, away from the sea. The swing of the legs was obvious. It was walking. But not upon the path, nor upon the solid surface of these Bermuda rocks! A surge of horror went through me at the realization. This was nothing human! It was walking on some other surface, invisible to us, but something solid beneath its own tread.