After Worlds Collide by Philip Wylie

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By Philip Wylie

After Worlds Collide choices up the tale of its predecessor, When Worlds Collide. This sequel tells the tale of the survivors' growth at the new global Bronson Beta after the destruction of Earth by way of a rogue planet.

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It was later than they had planned, when at last they had loaded their ship with the objects—comprehensible and incomprehensible—which they had chosen to carry back to Hendron and his comrades. The sun—the old sun of the shattered world, the new sun of Bronson Beta—was low when Tony drew down once more the great metal ring which closed again the gate of the Sealed City. “Let’s not fly back to the camp by the path we came,” said Eliot James. “No,” agreed Tony. ” They were in the air again, supported on the rushing golden stream of fire that emerged from their rocket-tubes.

Reptiles of some strange, semi-human sort? What lay dead by the tens of thousands in those silent rooms overhead? Tony was pulling at his pistol. Somehow, it reassured him to hold it in his hand. He reversed it, and beat the butt on the great glass pane behind which stood the strange metal tables and chairs. The glass did not give way. It twanged, not like glass but like sheet metal—metal utterly transparent. Tony caught the butt in his palm, and he pulled the trigger. The shot roared and reechoed.

God, Tony, doesn’t it get you? Where did they go? Not one of them—nor the bones of one of them! ” He stood at the table and sifted in his fingers the kernels of a strange grain. Not wheat, not corn, not rice nor barley nor rye; but a starchy kernel. They both had tasted it. “There’s millions of bushels of this, Tony. Should we say ‘bushels’ or, like the Bible, ‘measures’? Well, we know there’s millions of measures of this that we’ve already found. —we’ve solved our problem of provender indefinitely.

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