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- Herausgeber: Wildside Press
- Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022
The Impossible Invention
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Seitenzahl: 28
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Table of Contents
COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
INTRODUCTION
THE IMPOSSIBLE INVENTION, by Robert Moore Williams
COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
Copyright © 2022 by Wildside Press LLC.
Originally published in Astonishing Stories, June 1942.
Published by Wildside Press LLC.
wildsidepress.com | bcmystery.com
INTRODUCTION
Robert Moore Williams (1907–1977) was an American writer, primarily of science fiction. He sometimes used pseudonyms for his work, including “John S Browning,” “H.H. Harmon,” “Russell Storm” and “E.K. Jarvis” (a house name shared by multiple authors).
Williams was born in Farmington, Missouri. He graduated from the Missouri School of Journalism in 1931. His first published story was “Zero as a Limit,” which appeared in Astounding Science Fiction in 1937, under the pseudonym of “Robert Moore.”
He was a prolific author throughout his career, with his last novel appearing in 1972. His “Jongor” adventure series—reminiscent of Edgar Rice Burroughs’ work—was originally published in Fantastic Adventures in the 1940s and 1950s. It featured the adventures of a Tarzan-type barbarian hero in and underground world. Jongor battled both monsters and ancient super-science. The series was reprinted in three volumes as paperbacsk in 1970. Another, very similar series features Zanthar as its hero. He is another mighty warrior, but his adventures are set in space and feature mutants.
By the end of his career, Willialms had published over 150 stories and 27 novels. His work can frequently be found on the used book market, should you wish to look for additional titles.
—John Betancourt
Cabin John, Maryland
THE IMPOSSIBLE INVENTION,by Robert Moore Williams
I had to admire this little guy’s courage. Fradin, his name was—James Arthur Fradin, with a string of letters after it that even the alphabet agencies down at Washington could not have unscrambled. The letters represented honorary degrees conferred on him by half a dozen different colleges, and they should have entitled him to be heard with respectful consideration, but they weren’t. The assembled scientists of the Institute of Radio Engineers were giving him merry hell.
“What you are saying, Fradin,” one of the scientists interrupted hotly, “is gross nonsense.”
“It is absolutely impossible,” another shouted.
“Faker!” somebody yelled, and a dozen voices took it up until the room echoed with the sound.
I sat back and grinned to myself. If this meeting ended in a free-for-all fight, which was what looked like was due to happen, I would be able to make a swell human interest humorous yarn out of it. My editor went for human interest stuff, which was largely why he had sent me down to cover this meeting. He knew I wasn’t likely to develop any front page news here, scientific meetings being what they are. But there might be a human interest angle that would be good for a laugh. And the way these solemn scientists were calling Fradin a liar, it looked like the laugh was coming.
There was one man who wasn’t doing any name calling, I noticed, a tall, cadaverous-looking individual sitting two seats down from me. He had listened very carefully, almost eagerly, I thought, to everything the speaker had said. Glancing at him, I got the impression that I should know him, but at the moment I couldn’t place him. Tall, bony face, thin, hawk nose—yes, it seemed I should know him.
Fradin had stopped speaking when the storm of abuse broke over him. He stood there on the platform, a little, white haired guy with a gentle face.
