what to see on
phoebe

The ninth and outermost moon of Saturn...

slaves on phoebe

…Behind those dull red eyes were perceptions wholly alien to Man’s, senses to which the distinctive personalities of the men were things as obvious as are apples or oranges to eyes and fingers.

Brilliant lights flashed on all along the landing strip. Thin nictating membranes descended over the eyes of the approaching Woollies, and the gang came to a simultaneous halt. They sank slowly to their haunches on the iron-hard, fire-cold surface, and in the act became less like fur-clad men and more like crouching, hairy beasts.

Bill Bill hunkered unmoving in his place, but his peculiar senses were probing with an unusual curiosity at the familiar minds of the three men. The one who had just risen from bending over the switchbox was named Paige, and, when Big Bill’s mind touched his, the Woolly felt an odd apathy behind which something tense and secret smouldered like a fire banked under ashes. And the fire was hate…

Robert Abernathy, Failure on Titan (Planet Stories, Winter 1947)

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dan dare is hunted on phoebe

Frank Hampson, Dan Dare: Operation Saturn (Eagle, 1953-4)

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temple of life on phoebe

As Farr approached, the willowy branches of the shrubs whipped into sudden action, flicking gobs of black, gooey matter directly at the surprised spaceman. He dodged aside with a cry of dismay, barely averting contact with the stuff. Several of the viscid wads plopped against the bole of a tree and began eating furiously into the bark.

Eyes bulging, Farr turned and fled, putting distance between himself and the deadly bushes. No wonder there hadn’t been much left of that second heap of bones! The shrubs were living acid manufactories, remaining dormant until the approach of a victim, then to spring into life and bombard the prey with gobs of the fatal stuff.

And those blanched remains back there - they had once been living men, like himself, in search of the legendary life secret. But unlike him, they had not been clever enough to elude the pitfalls of the jungle, and had died agonizing deaths, miles short of the goal. Farr was glad it was so, else the secret would not now be there for him to pluck from its pedestal and mold to his own use.

Many hours later, Farr emerged from the jungle to stand at last at the entrance to a desolate canyon. Aching in every muscle, battered, bruised and hardly able to stay on his feet, he felt a surge of new energy as he spied his objective, near the center of the valley.

The temple was old, very old. Its walls were drab gray, as if with the grayness of age, and a great silence hung over it, unbroken by even the strident sounds of insect life. But in spite of its gloomy, tomb-like appearance, there was an air of magnificence about the temple, a faint aura of greatness once known, but long since gone. It was at once beautiful and foreboding, guardian of the heritage left by the Ancients to those with courage and intelligence enough to win it.

James R Adams, Quest on Phoebe (Planet Stories, Summer 1947)

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