Collected Short Fiction Page 3
Fire-Power, Cosmic Stories, July 1941
Forgotten Tongue, Stirring Science Stories, June 1941
Friend to Man, 10 Story Fantasy, Spring 1951
G
The Gift of Garigolli, Galaxy Science Fiction, August 1974
Gladiator at Law, Galaxy Science Fiction, June-August 1954
The Goodly Creatures, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, December 1952
Goldbrick Solitaire, Ten Detective Aces, January 1948
The Golden Road, Stirring Science Stories, March 1942
Gomez, The Explorers, August, 1954
Grave, The Phantagraph, May 1940
Gravy Planet, Galaxy Science Fiction, June-August 1952
Gunner Cade, Astounding Science Fiction, March-May 1952
H
Homicidal Hypo-Man, All-Story Detective, June 1949
I
I Never Ast No Favors, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, April 1954
Interference, Cosmic Stories, July 1941
Interplane Express, Up There and Other Strange Directions, September 1988
Iteration, Future Combined with Science Fiction Stories, September/October 1950
J
Jump-Out-of-Bed, The Phantagraph, April 1941
K
Kazam Collects, Stirring Science Stories, June 1941
The Kill Department, Ten Detective Aces, June 1947
King Cole of Pluto, Super Science Stories, May 1940
L
The Last Man Left in the Bar, Infinity Science Fiction, October 1957
The Little Black Bag, Astounding Science Fiction, July 1950
The Luckiest Man in Denv, Galaxy Science Fiction, June 1952
Lurani, Unknown, February 1940
M
Make Mine Mars, Science Fiction Adventures, November 1952
The Marching Morons, Galaxy Science Fiction, April 1951
Mars Child, Galaxy Science Fiction, May-July 1951
The Martians Are Coming, Cosmic Stories, March 1941
Mars-Tube, Astonishing Stories, September 1941
The Mask of Demeter, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, January 1953
Masquerade, Stirring Science Stories, March 1942
The Meddlers, Science Fiction Adventures, September 1953
The Meeting, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, November 1972
The Mindworm, Worlds Beyond, December 1950
The Mirrors of Hell, Ten Detective Aces, December 1946
The M-Job, The Phantom Detective, March 1947
Mr. Packer Goes to Hell, Stirring Science Stories June 1941
MS. Found in a Chinese Fortune Cookie, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, July 1957
Mute Inglorious Tam, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, October 1974
N
Nightmare with Zeppelins, Galaxy Magazine, December 1958
No Place to Go, Cosmic Stories, May 1941
Nova Midplane, Super Science Stories, November 1940
O
The Objective Approach, Operation Phantasy: The Best from The Phantagraph, 1967
The Only Thing We Learn, Startling Stories, July 1949
P
Passion Pills, A Mile Beyond the Moon, August 1958
The Perfect Invasion, Stirring Science Stories, March 1942
The Psychological Regulator, Comet, March 1941
The Purchase of the Crame [Part Two—Conclusion], Scienti-Tales, March 1939
Q
The Quaker Cannon, Analog Science Fact -> Fiction, August 1961
R
R.A.F. Wings East, Sky Raiders, February 1943
Reap the Dark Tide, Vanguard Science Fiction, June 1958
The Remorseful, Star Science Fiction Stories, 1953
Return from M-15, Cosmic Stories, March 1941
The Return of the Indefatigible Minimum, The Phantagraph, August 1940
The Reversible Revolutions, Cosmic Stories, March 1941
The Rocket of 1955, Escape, 1939
S
Sea Change, Dynamic Science Fiction, March 1953,
Segment, Operation Phantasy: The Best from The Phantagraph, 1967
The Silly Season, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, Fall 1950
Sir Mallory’s Magnitude, Science Fiction Quarterly, Winter 1941-1942
The Slave, Science Fiction Adventures, September 1957
The Song of the Rocket, Super Science Stories, March 1940
Stepsons of Mars, Astonishing Stories, April 1940
Stone, The Phantagraph, May 1940
The Syndic, Science Fiction Adventures, December 1953 & March 1954
T
Takeoff, New Worlds Science Fiction, April-June 1954
That Share of Glory, Astounding Science Fiction, January 1952
Theory of Rocketry, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, July 1958
Thirteen O’Clock, Stirring Science Stories, February 1941
Thirteen O’Clock [combined version], Thirteen O’Clock and Other Zero Hours, December 1970
Time Bum, Fantastic, January/February, January 1953
Tomb to Let, 10-Story Detective Magazine, May 1947
Trouble in Time, Astonishing Stories, December 1940
Two Dooms, Venture Science Fiction Magazine, July 1958
U
The Unfortunate Topologist, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, July 1957
V
Vacant World, Super Science Stories, January 1941
Virginia, Venture Science Fiction Magazine, March 1958
W
What Sorghum Says, Cosmic Stories, May 1941
With These Hands, Galaxy, December 1951
Wolfbane, Galaxy Science Fiction, October-November, October 1957
The Words of Guru, Stirring Science Stories, June 1941
The World of Myrion Flowers, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, October 1961
X
X Marks the A-Bomb, 10-Story Detective Magazine, January 1947
Y
The Yogi Says Yes, Private Detective Stories, November 1948
C.M. KORNBLUTH
A MEMORIAL BIBLIOGRAPHY
Cyril Kornbluth’s short stories may never be completely identified. In his prolific teens, he was writing under 18 or 19 pseudonyms at once, 10 of which have been publicly acknowledged. The two best known are S.D. Gottesman and Cecil Corwin, both used as pseudonyms for Kornbluth solos; some of the other names cover collaborations of as many as 5 writers, none of whom remembers today who wrote what. So this is, in the strictest literal sense, a bibliography, dealing with Kornbluth’s published books. Hardcover editions are in Roman letters, paperbacks in italics. NOTE: In most cases the magazine and book versions differ sharply.
Novels:
TAKEOFF. New York: Doubleday, 1952; Pennant, (1953).
THE SYNDIC. N.Y.: Doubleday, 1953; Bantam, (1955). Science Fiction Adventures, Nov., 1953-Feb., 1954, as SYNDIC.
NOT THIS AUGUST. N.Y.: Doubleday, (1955); Bantam, (1956). Maclean’s May-June, 1955.
Novels in collaboration with Frederik Pohl:
THE SPACE MERCHANTS. N.Y.: Ballantine, (1953)1. Galaxy, June-Aug., 1952, as GRAVY PLANET.
SEARCH THE SKY. N.Y.: Ballantine, (1954)1.
GLADIATOR-AT-LAW. N.Y.: Ballantine, (1955)1. Galaxy, June-Aug., 1954.
2A TOWN IS DROWNING. N.Y.: Ballantine, (1955)1.
2PRESIDENTIAL YEAR. N.Y.: Ballantine, (1956)1.
3WOLFBANE. N.Y.: Ballantine, (1959). Galaxy, Oct.-Nov., 1957.
Novels in collaboration with Judith Merril, under the pseudonym Cyril Judd:
OUTPOST MARS. N.Y.: Abelard, (1952); Dell, [1954], Galaxy, May-July, 1951, as MARS CHILD.
GUNNER CADE. N.Y.: Simon & Schuster, 1952; Ace, [1957]. Astounding, March-May, 1952.
Short stories:
THE EXPLORERS. N.Y.: Ballantine, (1954).
THE MINDWORM. London: Joseph, (1955).
[These two collections c
ontain, respectively, 9 and 12 stories, of which 8 are in both volumes.]
3A MILE BEYOND THE MOON. N.Y.: Doubleday, 1958.
1both hardcover and paperback editions; the latter is, technically, the true “first edition.” 2not s.f. or fantasy. 3In preparation.
The special (and tragic) circumstances under which this issue was put together have squeezed out the usual Recommended Reading department. Many full reports next month—and meanwhile buy immediately Clifton Fadiman’s FANTASIA MATHEMATICA (Simon & Schuster, $4.95), one of the most tasteful and best patterned science-fantasy anthologies ever edited (and containing a Kornbluth limerick).—A.B.
Originally appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, July 1958
FICTION SERIES
[O] = Omnibus
[SER] = Serial
[SF] = short story/novelette
Lieutenant J.C. Battle
The Reversible Revolutions [SF]
The City in the Sofa [SF]
Space Merchants
Gravy Planet [SER]
Venus, Inc. [O]
Thirteen O’Clock
Thirteen O’Clock [SF]
Mr. Packer Goes to Hell [SF]
Thirteen O’Clock (combined version) [SF]
1939
The Rocket of 1955
The scheme was all Fein’s, but the trimmings that made it more than a pipe dream and its actual operation depended on me. How long the plan had been in incubation I do not know, but Fein, one spring day, broke it to me in crude form. I pointed out some errors, corrected and amplified on the thing in general, and told him that I’d have no part of it—and changed my mind when he threatened to reveal certain indiscretions committed by me some years ago.
It was necessary that I spend some months in Europe, conducting research work incidental to the scheme. I returned with recorded statements, old newspapers, and photostatic copies of certain documents. There was a brief, quiet interview with that old, bushy-haired Viennese worshipped incontinently by the mob; he was convinced by the evidence I had compiled that it would be wise to assist us.
You all know what happened next—it was the professor’s historic radio broadcast. Fein had drafted the thing, I had rewritten it, and told the astronomer to assume a German accent while reading. Some of the phrases were beautiful: “American dominion over the very planets! . . . veil at last ripped aside . . . man defies gravity . . . travel through limitless space . . . plant the red-white-and-blue banner in the soil of Mars!”
The requested contributions poured in. Newspapers and magazines ostentatiously donated yard-long checks of a few thousand dollars; the government gave a welcome half-million; heavy sugar came from the “Rocket Contribution Week” held in the nation’s public schools; but independent contributions were the largest. We cleared seven million dollars, and then started to build the spaceship.
The virginium that took up most of the money was tin plate; the monoatomic fluorine that gave us our terrific speed was hydrogen. The takeoff was a party for the newsreels: the big, gleaming bullet extravagant with vanes and projections; speeches by the professor; Farley, who was to fly it to Mars, grinning into the cameras. He climbed an outside ladder to the nose of the thing, then dropped into the steering compartment. I screwed down the soundproof door, smiling as he hammered to be let out. To his surprise, there was no duplicate of the elaborate dummy controls he had been practicing on for the past few weeks.
I cautioned the pressmen to stand back under the shelter, and gave the professor the knife switch that would send the rocket on its way. He hesitated too long—Fein hissed into his ear: “Anna Pareloff of Cracow, Herr Professor . . .”
The triple blade clicked into the sockets. The vaned projectile roared a hundred yards into the air with a wobbling curve—then exploded.
A photographer, eager for an angle shot, was killed; so were some kids. The steel roof protected the rest of us. Fein and I shook hands, while the pressmen screamed into the telephones which we had provided.
But the professor got drunk, and, disgusted with the part he had played in the affair, told all and poisoned himself. Fein and I left the cash behind, and hopped a freight. We were picked off it by a vigilance committee (headed by a man who had lost fifty cents in our rocket). Fein was too frightened to talk or write so they hanged him first, and gave me a paper and pencil to tell the story as best I could.
Here they come, with an insulting thick rope.
The Purchase of the Crame
Part Two—Conclusion
And here dulleth the tale, for my life became perfection. Concerning strength of limb and kindred matters I was supreme and alone, so that it was necessary for me to abandon wrestling, with which I had formerly diverted myself greatly, in contacts against the churls of the village, for I was so deft of movement and so mighty of muscle, that more often than not I broke the necks or backs of them that came against me, and had been victors before in our bouts. It had not been in my habit to attend the tourney, but in test of the charms I made an excursion to the city of Rouen, where there had been declared fetes and jousts. My name was entered in the lists, and, as the others struck off, one by one, yet I remained until I had vanquished with lance and sword the much reputed Sir Brasthals, of the northern lowlands, and I stood there alone, so that I was awarded from the hands of the Duchess of Rouen the gemmed blade that had been forged as a prize of this tournament.
Masking my discontent with the facility of winning the sword, I wore it to the banquet that evening. Wine was abundant, so that all the Company’s speech dulled to babblings, and then to snores—while I, that had not been the least among drinkers, arose from the table, disgusted and sober, and went to my damp and unpleasant room.
Others of the charms did I make test of, during my sojourn in the dukedom, and some of these tests concerned wine and some of these concerned the duchess; and some concerned swordsmanship. And all, of course, came out to my complete satisfaction—I thought, at the time.
Tired of uniform success in physical satisfaction, I turned to the making of verses, and there flowed from my pen the trickily interlocked measures of the Provencal duodecina, and the complex harmonies of the Kung T’sui, both Cathayan and of Zipangu, with none of the joyous agony that poets have spoken me about. Disgusted I abandoned the childish craft for more solemn business of grammery.
With facility, I conjured up the likenesses of vastly distant places, and saw in purple vapours that rise from shining grey chips, whatever I should wish to envision. I made the acquaintance of fabled Eblis, and with him I spoke, and found him unschooled and rude. Briefly, I considered the possibility of using my very evident power in the annulling of the contract I had made, but I considered too, what history might have to say about such double-dealing, and the effect it would have on my relatives-to-be, and abandoned the plan as any gentleman would. Then I returned to carousal, wenching, and unpleasured excess.
For about a century this has been going on, and very boring it has been, indeed. And now, I regret it however much, I must draw my moral:
An Wiste ye that ye’d riske Helle
For Years of yoyouse Evile,
Be temperate: Choose not over welle,
Or deale not with ye Devile.
The Ill-Advised Abracadabrations of Magus Heslich
A subtle Faustian Fantasy
I sing, O nameless (for I know no Greek) muse of the pitiably reversable tragical comedy of one, Scholiast, of his dealings with supernalities.
------
Heslich performed rites, enchantments, grammeries, incantations, and he drew pentagons, hexagons, shields of Solomon, octagons, circles, ellipses, and he stood in them on his right foot, on his head, on his hands, and he burned sulfur, mistletoe, galena, the dust of dried wold-gizzard, and, at last, he conjured up the devil.
“Magister,” said the devil, “you have gone to a very great amount of trouble and expense to bring me before you. I do not suppose that all this was done only for your amusement; ther
efore, state whatever you wish of me.”
Heslich cleared his throat, and went to a closet whence he drew forth a large roll of the lowest grade of parchment. “This,” he explained, “is a complete statement of the terms of a contract which I desire to make with you. I assure you that you will find nothing in it which might be called unfair, as it is based on such similiar as recorded in the most veracious of histories.”
“Nevertheless, I would rather that you read it to me,” the devil said. “It is that I do not know you to be the most honorable and judicious of men, and so it is fully possible that you are trying to “do” me. However, unworthy suspicion will be quashined if you but read… .” His voice trailed off. He was obviously embarassed by the suggestion.
The Magus, firm in his righteousness, as attested by voluminous footnotes which indicated copious references that none of his list or demands was unprecented, began to read: “Contractus fecit hoc diem--or, as we would say, “This is a contract entered upon this fourth day of November, in the twelfth hundred and ninety second year of Our Lord, made between Theobald Heslich, master of arts, (called Magus and Magister) and the Devil, and provides that the Devil shall:
I Cure Heslich of asthma
II Give into Heslich’s care, for a period of one hundred years,
a) the cloak of invisibility
b) the helmet of invulnerability
c) the sandals of swiftness
III Extend the life of Heslich for a period of one hundred years
IV Teach Heslich the making of the philosopher’s stone
V teach Heslich the making of the philosophy stone
VI teach Heslich how he may drink his fill and yet stay sober
VII give to Heslich the understating of all the languages of men
VIII provide Heslich with a complete copy of the “Book of Thoth”
IX give to Heslich the understanding of the languages of the beasts, birds, and fish
X teach Heslich how he may always win at dice--”
And the Magus read on until the Homan numerals were exhausted and he read what was numbered by Hebrew letters, and then Greek letters, and when he was finishing the formidable list, Sanskrit yielding to Syriac in the numeration of the clauses, he ended thus: