Venus was a world enslaved. And then, like an avenging angel, fanning the flames of raging revolt, came a warrior-princess in whose mind lay dread knowledge--the knowledge of a weapon so terrible it had been used but once in the history of the universe. "Purple!" Mark Denning almost sobbed. "A purple Josmian!" Forgetting the sweat in his eyes and the insufferable heat about him, his clutching hand held up the mud-dripping globe the size of a baseball, iridescent in the Venusian night.…
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