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Updated: September 24, 2025
And a ten-foot wavering flame of blue-white, bellying electric fire shuddered up to the ceiling from the contact points of the alleged atomic generator. The heat, pouring out from the flashing, roaring arc sent prickles of aching burns over Kendall's skin. For ten seconds he stood in utter, paralyzed surprise as his flop of flops bellowed its anger at his disdain.
The planetoid of the captive sun. That little hunk of bare rock out there is the first spot the Lhari visited in this galaxy even before Mentor. It's an inferno of light from that little blue-white sun, so of course they love it it's just like home to them. When they found that the inner planets of Antares were inhabited, they built their spaceport here, so they'd have a better chance at trade."
In shape, its upper part was like the top half of a loaf of bread. In motion, here, it rested on some sort of wheeled vehicle, and it was reared up like an indignant caterpillar, and a blue-white flame squirted out of its tail, with coy and frolicsome flirtings from side to side.
Neat motor-broughams slid between the kerbs and rounded corners at unrebuked excess-speeds, winking their blazing head-lights at drowsy policemen muffled in oilskin capes. On all these accustomed things the blue-white arc-lights shone.
Thrusting the blowpipe forward, he allowed the hissing blue-white flame to wrap itself round the outer wall of the tube a flame which Thornton knew could melt its way through a block of steel but the astronomer felt no sensation of heat, although he not unnaturally expected the member to be incinerated. "Queer, eh?" said Bennie. "Absolute insulation!
A many balconied building; towers, spires and minarets crowning it. All blue-white. Glittering. Seemingly fragile; from a distance, a toy a sample of the ultra-skill of some master confectioner, as though the whole thing were a toy of sugar for children to admire. But at close range solid; in the cold of this terrible region, as solid as though constructed of blocks of stone.
There it loomed in the misty, winter night, the mightiest building on the continent, blue-white, sharply outlined, massive as a mountain, yet seemingly as light as a winter cloud. Weighing myriads of tons, it seemed quite as insubstantial as the mist which transfigured it.
A thousand tiny points of flame appeared scattered on a black field with a suddenness that made them seem to snap suddenly into being. Points, tiny dimensionless points of light, save one, a tiny disc of blue-white flame, old Sol from a distance of close to one billion miles, and under slight reverse magnification.
Steam shot upward in a monstrous cloud miles high, it seemed. Then, almost instantly, there was nothing left of the Ragged Men about the golden weapon, or of the weapon itself, but an unbearable blue-white light which poured away and trickled here and there and seemed to grow in volume as it flamed. From the rest of the jungle a howl arose.
He counted time forward, he looked into the future, and all was beautiful long days, long hunts, long rides, service to his friend, freedom on the wild steppes, blue-white dawns upon the eastern crags, red-gold sunsets over the lilac mountains of the desert.
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