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Table of contents
PREFACE
CHAPTER-1-2
CHAPTER-3
CHAPTER-4-5-6-7
CHAPTER-8-9
CHAPTER-10-11
CHAPTER-12-13-14-15
CHAPTER-16-17
CHAPTER-18-19
CHAPTER-20-21-22
CHAPTER-23-24-25
CHAPTER-26-27-28
CHAPTER-29-30
CHAPTER-31.1
CHAPTER-31.2
CHAPTER-31.3
CHAPTER-32
CHAPTER-33
CHAPTER-34-35-36-37-38
CHAPTER-39-40-41-42
CHAPTER-43-44-45
CHAPTER-46-47
CHAPTER-48
CHAPTER-49-50
CHAPTER-51
CHAPTER-52-53
The Sex Life of the Gods. Michael Knerr. CHAPTER-1-2
CHAPTER-3
CHAPTER-4
CHAPTER-5-6
CHAPTER-7-8
CHAPTER-9-10
CHAPTER-11-12
CHAPTER-13-14
CHAPTER-15-16
CHAPTER-17-18

on its way to him. He had to hold out until they got here. He flipped 

open the cartridge box and checked his ammunition. Plenty. Of course, 

the auto-pistol only held fifteen shots and if they rushed him... He 

wished fervently that he had thought to bring the projectile launcher 

from the wrecked patrol car. 

 

Damned natives and their uprisings! 

 

He searched the sky anxiously, cold sweat trickling off his forehead in 

tiny rivulets. Scenes of other uprisings flickered through his brain, 

and more horrible scenes of the remains of tortured captives when he 

reached them too late. Those had been small. This one was for real. 

 

The native seemed to materialize out of the ground, screaming shrill 

obscenities as he drew himself to his full nine feet of height and 

brandished the heavy maul over his head. He came leaping over the ground 

and up the hill of tumbled rocks in fiendish rage, his grey antennae 

pointed directly at Firstspacer Lors. Behind him came the others, eight 

of them. 

 

He fired the auto-pistol at the lead alien, watching the bullet tear a 

hole in his face, ripping away one of the blinking yellow eyes. The 

alien screamed and fell blubbering. He fired again and again, dropping 

two more before the charge broke. 

 

Then suddenly, at a sound, he whirled and stared terrified at the alien 

behind him. The charge had been a fake, an old military stunt that any 

green Spacer could have seen through. For one brief instant, he stared 

into the large eyes of the native. Then he fired. Another native rose 

from the ground, then another and another. He fired repeatedly, crying 

and cursing in his rage at the weapon's inefficiency, while over his 

head he heard the roaring of the rescue ship. 

 

Tongues of flame soared over his head and into the surging mass of 

aliens. He hoped the ship was not too late... 

 

* * * * * 

 

"Nick! Nick, darling!" 

 

He awoke, his face drenched with sweat and his stomach a tight knot of 

fear. He reached out, in his fright, and grabbed the woman at his side, 

pulling her into his arms to hold her tightly. She stroked his hair, 

kissed his face and whispered soothing words into his ear. 

 

"What is it, Nick?" 

 

He relaxed his grip and laid his head back on the pillow. In the bright 

light of the moon, he looked at her and returned to himself. Those 

monsters! So vivid! 

 

"Nightmare," he croaked hoarsely. 

 

She smiled, her lips glistening in the moonlight, and kissed him gently. 

"The apple pie," she suggested. "Nightmares are usually caused by eating 

before bed." 

 

"It was so real," he muttered. "So real. I ... I was on another planet 

... I wore a blue uniform with yellow stripes on the legs and my name 

was Lors, or Lars. The natives, horrible monsters, were in a state of 


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