Battered, Tattered, Yellowed, & Creased

On and on Coeurl prowled. The black, moonless, almost starless night yielded reluctantly before a grim reddish dawn that crept up from his left. It was a vague light that gave no sense of approaching warmth. It slowly revealed a nightmare landscape.

Jagged black rock and a black, lifeless plain took form around him. A pale red sun peered above the grotesque horizon. Fingers of light probed among the shadows. And still there was no sign of the family of id creatures that he had been trailing now for nearly a hundred days.

A.E. van Vogt is one of the more underrated authors of the Golden Age of science fiction, despite being, as the cover bills him, “to Canadian SF what H.G. Wells is to the British… or Jules Verne to the French.” Certainly, van Vogt has had a major impact on the science fiction and fantasy genres—their popular culture…

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