Deep in the Martian drylands, a band of mercenaries plots revolution. Enter Eric John Stark, outlaw; in wind-swept ruins he will find unlikely romance, and an ancient, undying secret…
Frederik Pohl’s “The Man Who Ate the World,” serial installment of Alfred Bester’s “The Stars My Destination,” stories by Robert Silverberg, E.C. Tubb, and Lester del Rey.
Poul Anderson’s “No Truce With Kings,” Jack Vance’s “Green Magic,” stories by Richard Matheson, Vance Aandahl, Sinichi Hoshi, Jaunita Coulson and Marion Zimmer Bradley.
Alfred Bester’s “Fondly Fahrenheit;” Zenna Henderson’s “Gilead;” Charles Beaumont’s “Quadriopoticon;” Manly Wade Wellman’s “Little Black Train;” stories by Richard Brookbank, Kay Rogers, and Doris P. Buck.
A running theme for Galaxy Science Fiction Magazine was for Ed Emsh to paint a thematic holiday cover for the December issue. The only two years this tradition was skipped were 1952 and 1955. Given the time of year, it seemed properly thematic to showcase all eight, plus a a few other related covers for Astounding and F&SF.
A small army of dead soldiers from the World Wars is recruited into a war between two alternate futures, to determine which future has the right to exist. Pulpy action funtime go!
I really dig Ed Emsh’s style; at his best, his book and magazine covers are vibrant and dynamic. I’ll let these high(er)-res covers speak for themselves: an assortment from books (mostly Ace and Pyramid paperbacks), pulps, and digest magazines, from the early 1950s to late-1960s. I put them in rough chronological order.
Scientists unleash ancient alien monstrosity from the briny deep; it proceeds to go about re-conquering our world via its psychic powers. A B-movie in book form.
A group of ancient starfaring humans and the children they had with the natives jumps through a star gate to an alternate timeline… one where the humans landed as evil conquerors instead of misguided altruists.
Another vintage Robert Silverberg yarn, an extended version of a tale I’ve already read. Two warring alien species planting sleeper agents on Earth, crosses and double-crosses, a telepathic unborn fetus… what’s not to like?
Leigh Brackett’s tale of Luddite Mennonites in post-apocalyptic America. When it came out, it was billed as “nearly a great novel.” Is that true, and how has it held up in the intervening sixty years?