Audiobooks by Clifford D. Simak

Aliens and Nothing But Aliens 3

Aliens and Nothing But Aliens 3 - Sixteen Lost Sci-Fi Short Stories from the 1940s, 50s and 60s - Strange Eden by Philip K. Dick - From Outer Space by Robert Zacks - Planet of the Angry Giants by Robert Silverberg - The Guest Rites by Robert Silverberg - The Star Mouse by Fredric Brown - And Then—The Silence by Ray Bradbury - Duel on Syrtis by Poul Anderson - Earthmen Bearing Gifts by Fredric Brown - Welcome Martians by Evan Hunter - Guest Expert by Allen K. Lang - The Eater of Souls by Henry Kuttner - Message From Mars by Clifford D. Simak - The Pause by Isaac Asimov - The Call From Beyond by Clifford D. Simak - The World That Couldn't Be by Clifford D. Simak - The Sky Was Full of Ships by Theodore Sturgeon

Allen K. Lang, Clifford D. Simak, Evan Hunter, Fredric Brown, Henry Kuttner, Isaac Asimov, Philip K. Dick, Poul Anderson, Ray Bradbury, Robert Silverberg, Robert Zacks, Theodore Sturgeon (Author), Scott Miller (Narrator)

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The World That Couldn't Be

The World That Couldn't Be by Clifford D. Simak - Like every farmer on every planet, Duncan had to hunt down anything that damaged his crops—even though he was aware this was—The World That Couldn’t Be The tracks went up one row and down another, and in those rows the vua plants had been sheared off an inch or two above the ground. The raider had been methodical; it had not wandered about haphazardly, but had done an efficient job of harvesting the first ten rows on the west side of the field. Then, having eaten its fill, it had angled off into the bush—and that had not been long ago, for the soil still trickled down into the great pug marks, sunk deep into the finely cultivated loam. Somewhere a sawmill bird was whirring through a log, and down in one of the thorn-choked ravines, a choir of chatterers was clicking through a ghastly morning song. It was going to be a scorcher of a day. Already the smell of desiccated dust was rising from the ground and the glare of the newly risen sun was dancing off the bright leaves of the hula-trees, making it appear as if the bush were filled with a million flashing mirrors. Gavin Duncan hauled a red bandanna from his pocket and mopped his face. 'No, mister,' pleaded Zikkara, the native foreman of the farm. 'You cannot do it, mister. You do not hunt a Cytha.' 'The hell I don't,' said Duncan, but he spoke in English and not the native tongue. He stared out across the bush, a flat expanse of sun-cured grass interspersed with thickets of hula-scrub and thorn and occasional groves of trees, criss-crossed by treacherous ravines and spotted with infrequent waterholes. It would be murderous out there, he told himself, but it shouldn't take too long. The beast probably would lay up shortly after its pre-dawn feeding and he'd overhaul it in an hour or two. But if he failed to overhaul it, then he must keep on.

Clifford D. Simak (Author), Scott Miller (Narrator)

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The Call From Beyond

The Call From Beyond by Clifford D. Simak - Alone, accursed, he set out on the long, dark voyage to the forbidden gateway to worlds beyond life itself—restless forever with an ultimate knowledge, possessing which no man could die! The pyramid was built of bottles, hundreds of bottles that flashed and glinted as if with living fire, picking up and breaking up the misty light that filtered from the distant sun and still more distant stars. Frederick West took a slow step forward, away from the open port of his tiny ship. He shook his head and shut his eyes and opened them again and the pyramid was still there. So it was no figment, as he had feared, of his imagination, born in the darkness and the loneliness of his flight from Earth. It was there and it was a crazy thing. Crazy because it should not be there, at all. There should be nothing here on this almost unknown slab of tumbling stone and metal. For no one lived on Pluto's moon. No one ever visited Pluto's moon. Even he, himself, hadn't intended to until, circling it to have a look before going on to Pluto, he had seen that brief flash of light, as if someone might be signaling. It had been the pyramid, of course. He knew that now. The stacked-up bottles catching and reflecting light. Behind the pyramid stood a space hut, squatted down among the jagged boulders. But there was no movement, no sign of life. No one was tumbling out of the entrance lock to welcome him. And that was strange, he thought. For visitors must be rare, if, indeed, they came at all. Perhaps the pyramid really was a signaling device, although it would be a clumsy way of signaling. More likely a madman's caprice. Come to think of it, anyone who was sufficiently deranged to live on Pluto's moon would be a fitting architect for a pyramid of bottles.

Clifford D. Simak (Author), Scott Miller (Narrator)

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Message From Mars

Message From Mars by Clifford D. Simak - Fifty-five pioneers had died on the 'bridge of bones' that spanned the Void to the rusty plains of Mars. Now the fifty-sixth stood on the red planet, his only ship a total wreck—and knew that Earth was doomed unless he could send a warning within hours. 'You're crazy, man,' snapped Steven Alexander, 'you can't take off for Mars alone!' Scott Nixon thumped the desk in sudden irritation. 'Why not?' he shouted. 'One man can run a rocket. Jack Riley's sick and there are no other pilots here. The rocket blasts in fifteen minutes and we can't wait. This is the last chance. The only chance we'll have for months.' Jerry Palmer, sitting in front of the massive radio, reached for a bottle of Scotch and slopped a drink into the tumbler at his elbow. 'Hell, Doc,' he said, 'let him go. It won't make any difference. He won't reach Mars. He's just going out in space to die like all the rest of them.' Alexander snapped savagely at him. 'You don't know what you're saying. You drink too much.' 'Forget it, Doc,' said Scott. 'He's telling the truth. I won't get to Mars, of course. You know what they're saying down in the base camp, don't you? About the bridge of bones. Walking to Mars over a bridge of bones.' The old man stared at him. 'You have lost faith? You don't think you'll go to Mars?' Scott shook his head. 'I haven't lost my faith. Someone will get there ... sometime. But it's too soon yet. Look at that tablet, will you!' He waved his hand at a bronze plate set into the wall. 'The roll of honor,' said Scott, bitterly. 'Look at the names. You'll have to buy another soon. There won't be room enough.' One Nixon already was on that scroll of bronze. Hugh Nixon, fifty-fourth from the top. And under that the name of Harry Decker, the man who had gone out with him.

Clifford D. Simak (Author), Scott Miller (Narrator)

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