The Music Of Minox by Howard Goldsmith We had just pitched camp on the planet Minox when we heard the weird music that would forever haunt me. The sound was like a crystal chandelier tinkling in the wind.
"What was that?" I asked my father.
"I don't know," he said, obviously puzzled. He knit his brow.
"It sounds like someone strumming a harp through Hades," said Casey, our imaginative navigator. He scanned the dark horizon in concern.
"Knock it off," said Sloane, pilot of our spacecraft. "Let's not let our imaginations run away with us."
The cascade of tinkling notes suddenly doubled in volume. It surged about us, lapping at us from every side.
Even Sloane, who was said to have ice water in his veins, couldn't suppress an uneasy shudder.
. . .
