Planet Of Doom by C. H. Thames - As a galactic reporter Jane Crowley knew she had hold of the biggest story of the year; thousands of people were soon to die on this — Planet Of Doom

Less than an hour after the last spaceship made touchdown on Mandmoora, Jane Crowley stood before a scowling, head shaking public Information Officer.

"My company sent me fifty light years from its nearest base in the Denebian system, Colonel," Jane said. "I'm sorry, but it's impossible for me to return to Deneb without my story."

"This office has issued press releases, my dear Miss Crowley, which—"

"Press releases!" The way Jane uttered those two words made the Colonel wince. "I didn't come fifty light years for press releases. I came...." She watched the Colonel's face and let her voice trail off. This approach was having absolutely no effect. But Jane Crowley was a woman, young and quite pretty and it was likely, she thought, that where the straightforward, man-to-man approach might fail, the ways of a woman might succeed. "But Colonel," she pouted, then let her composed face fall apart as if she were going to cry. "But Colonel, my job depends on this story. My ... my whole career ... you see ..." she sniffled.

"There now, Miss Crowley," the Colonel said, looking very uncomfortable. "There now, miss. Please."

"Then you'll let me go out there among the Mandmoora?"

"I'm sorry, miss. Out of the question. Definitely out. We've evacuated all the Mandmoora who want to go. What remains is a hard core of Mandmooranian fanatics who refuse to leave their native planet under any circumstances. They've got an island just off shore here, you see.

C.H. Thames

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