THE THING OF VENUS
On far-off steaming Venus, three Earthlings faced awful death. And the only man who could save them from the veiled planet’s unknown THING was Kenton—disgraced, dope-sodden ex-Space Patrolman.
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THE GAILANG GAS HUNG in low soft waves over the motley crowd of the tiny, hidden gailang den. Laughter rose hysterically from the trio of women slummers, as the gas tore their natural reserves and modesty into shreds. A scarred space-pirate drooled over a handful of Martian moon-diamonds, the disruptor gun handy to his gnarled fist. The gas-tender, his flat nose buried in a tiny mask, watched the crowd of inscrutable eyes, his hands flickering, now and then, over the pet-c**k studded panel before him.
Val Kenton lolled back in his padded booth, his eyes glazed
