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    Two Suns of Morcali
    Two Suns of Morcali
    Two Suns of Morcali
    Ebook39 pages36 minutes

    Two Suns of Morcali

    By Evelyn E. Smith

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    The idol was shaped like a handsome young man. The surface had a curious texture, as if skin rather than stone. There is a deceptive simplicity to this story about a rather forceful woman explorer ( immensely practical, too) who goes to Grimalkin prepared for anything, including an attack on her life, but not for what does happen! Evelyn E. Smith is best known as the author of the Miss Melville mysteries. From 1952 to 1969 she wrote dozens of science fiction and fantasy short stories that appeared in magazines such as The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, Galaxy, Super Science Fiction, and Fantastic Universe. Her stories were witty, well written, often humorous, and always unforgettable.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherStart Publishing LLC
    Release dateSep 21, 2021
    ISBN9781649741820
    Two Suns of Morcali
    Author

    Evelyn E. Smith

    Evelyn E. Smith (25 July 1922 – 4 July 2000) was an American writer of science fiction and mysteries, as well as a compiler of crossword puzzles.

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      Book preview

      Two Suns of Morcali - Evelyn E. Smith

      Two Suns of Morcali

      by Evelyn E. Smith

      Start Publishing LLC

      Copyright © 2021 by Start Publishing LLC

      All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

      First Start Publishing eBook edition.

      Start Publishing is a registered trademark of Start Publishing LLC

      Manufactured in the United States of America

      10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

      ISBN 978-1-64974-182-0

      The idol was shaped like a handsome young man. The surface had a curious texture, as if skin rather than stone. There is a deceptive simplicity to this story about a rather forceful woman explorer ( immensely practical, too) who goes to Grimalkin prepared for anything, including an attack on her life, but not for what does happen!

      As the big interstellar liner nosed down to the airfield, a steady stream of reporters trickled out from the bar to meet her. The only notable on board, they knew, was Agatha Sherlip, the explorer, but she always made good copy. Though her veracity was sometimes open to question, her courage was not, and enough of the daring exploits on distant planets which she had recounted to the press, and subsequently expatiated upon in a series of best-selling volumes, had been substantiated to prove that a great deal of what she said was true.

      And newspaper editors were always glad to have pictures of Miss Sherlip to brighten up their pages. As she posed at the head of the ramp leading down from the liner, the press marveled anew how, for one who was certainly no longer in her first youth, she managed to remain so wonderfully well preserved. Once one of the more sensational journals had hinted darkly of a mysterious fountain of youth far beyond Mizar, but the suggestion had been heavily pooh-poohed, for everyone knew that if Agatha had found any such thing, she would have immediately drained the fountain, bottled the water, and sold it to the public at a high price.

      She made a charming picture, her long yellow hair blowing about her suntanned face, her brief skirts blowing about her long brown legs, as she called, Mind those crates, Henry! over her shoulder.

      I am being most careful, replied a voice with a slight foreign accent, and a tall, handsome young man with a piece of sticking plaster on his forehead emerged, staggering—or, rather, surprisingly not staggering—under a prodigious number of packing cases. Porters rushed forward to help him, but Agatha waved them back. Rare and fragile objects inside, she explained. Henry knows how to handle them.

      Henry grinned cheerfully. Shall I take them to the car? he asked, pointing to the pick-up truck.

      Please do, Henry, and then come back for the rest. Henry, followed across the field by the eyes of all of the female reporters, and some of the male as well, bore the boxes off with ease.

      Well, Miss Sherlip, the not-so-young man

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