Tourists to Terra — Story, Setting & Ideas

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In Category - Other Worlds

Authors: Reynolds, Mack, 1917-1983, Fuqua, Robert, 1905-1959 [Illustrator] Digital Source: Project Gutenberg Gutenberg Release Year: 2021 First Publication Year: Not confirmed

Key Word: Science fiction; Short stories; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; World War, 1939-1945 -- Fiction; Trojan War -- Fiction; Tourists -- Fiction Target Reader: Readers of public-domain and historical texts

Book Edition: Project Gutenberg digital edition Book Language: en

Edition facts

Words 5,801

Reading time 26 min

Text sections 1

This digital edition of Tourists to Terra — Story, Setting & Ideas is described by source-level measurements including 5,801 words, 26 min estimated reading time, and 1 detected text section.

The text analysis averages about 17.6 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Science fiction,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

Source: Project Gutenberg record #65077

Mack Reynolds' 1950 story opens with a Greek hero attacking Aphrodite, then reveals the gods are time-traveling tourists. The clash between ancient epic diction and modern bureaucratic dialogue drives the satire.

Editorial Edition Score 4.4/5

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Edition quality

File: pg65077

Read the Text

Captain was of the opinion this war was too dangerous, wasn't there some other conflict on this planet?

The Captain told them he'd consult with his officers and let them know in the morning.

One thing was sure, Captain Foren thought, as he made his way toward the officer's mess. He'd have to get this group of thrill-crazy wastrels away from Troy. If one of them was hurt badly, he'd undoubtedly lose his lucrative position on the swank cruise ship.

The idea was his own, really, and a good one. In a luxury mad world the cry was for new titillations, new pleasures, new planets on which to play, new drugs to bring ever wilder dreams, new foods, new drinks, new loves; but, most of all, new thrills.

Yes, the idea of taking cruise ships of wealthy thrill seekers to the more backward planets and letting them join in primitive wars, had been his. It proved the thrill supreme. His cruises were the rage of half a dozen planets, and the company had increased his pay several times in the past few years. But he knew it could crumple like a house of cards, given one serious injury to a wealthy guest. The theory of the cruise was to let them kill without endangering themselves.

The stop at Troy, had, as a rule, been a successful one. The Greeks and their opponents were both highly superstitious and readily accepted the presence of the aliens from space as Gods taking place in the battle. Usually, they were too terrified to take measures against the strangers in their gleaming armor, but today had been the second occasion in which a tourist had been injured, in spite of scientific, protective armor.

His officers were awaiting him in the mess hall. They too had been conscious of the wounds suffered by the thrill seeking guests, and hadn't liked it. Lady Jan was the daughter of a noble strong enough to have them all imprisoned, if the whim took him.

Captain Foren growled, "Have any of you an idea? I proposed the Venus trip, but, although they admit being leary about further risks here, they prefer fighting humanoids."

First Officer Cajun said, "Perhaps it would be better to head for the home planet, Captain."

Captain Foren shook his head. "We can't do that; the cruise has another week to go. If we went back now it would be obvious that something had happened and just bring matters to a head. If we can give them another week of thrills, possibly they'll have forgotten their wounds by the time we return."

The Chief Engineer turned to Cajun. "At what stage of development is this planet?"

"I believe it's at H-a. Why?"

"I was wondering at the possibility of going forward a few thousand years in time and participating in a war that dealt less in hand to hand conflict. They could have their fill of killing, with a minimum of danger--protected, of course, with suitable anti-projectile force fields."

Cajun went over to the ship's Predictinformer and spoke into its mouthpiece. "What will be the military development of this planet in two or three thousand years; and would it be safe to take the ship into that period?"

They awaited the answer, which came approximately one minute later. "Probability shows the inhabitants of Terra will begin utilizing explosives for propelling missiles in two thousand years. About five hundred years later they will have developed this means of warfare to its ultimate. Safety for the ship is indicated."

Captain Foren mused, "That sounds practical. We could participate in some war in which our passengers could use such weapons as snipers, from a distance." Another thought struck him. "Besides, the Lord General Baris is quite intrigued with the possibilities involved in fighting the humanoids here. He had spoken of transporting large numbers of his troops to Terra and using the planet for a training ground in actual combat. Undoubtedly, the earthlings of the future would make better victims for his soldiers than these more primitive types. It might be well to look at the future of this planet."

The First Engineer said, "Such a step would wipe out the development of civilization on the planet."

Captain Foren shrugged impatiently. He ordered Cajun to make immediate preparations to take the ship forward twenty-five hundred years, and gave instructions to a sub-officer to locate a suitable conflict as soon as they arrived, so that the guests could begin their participation when they awoke in the morning.

The ship arrived effortlessly in its new location in time, but when the sub-officer returned from his patrol, First Officer Cajun took him to the Captain's quarters himself.

He saluted. "I don't believe this is quite it, Captain."

Continue Reading →

The story begins not with a spaceship but with Diomed of Argos wounding Aphrodite on a Trojan battlefield—only for the goddess to vanish when a voice calls “Go back! Go back immediately to—”. The narrative then cuts to an invisible spacecraft hovering above the combat, where the Lady Jan, dressed in a transparent robe and armed with a short sword, complains to the crewman Cajun about her injury. Reynolds immediately establishes a tonal collision: Homeric epithets (“Diomed of Argos, son of Tydeus”) and archaic battle rage sit beside the clipped, bureaucratic language of interplanetary tourism (“I will present your complaint to the Captain”).

Diction as a Marker of Genre Clash

The opening paragraphs alternate between two distinct registers. The Greek hero speaks in formulaic epic style: “Pallas Athene aids me,” he mutters before charging. The goddess is described with conventional beauty tropes—“breathtakingly beautiful,” “attired for love”—yet she holds a short sword. When the scene shifts to the spaceship, the language becomes procedural. Cajun’s reply is “faultless” in tone but “boiling with rage beneath his courtesy.” The Lady Jan’s dialogue is petulant and modern: “Do you realize this horrible wound will probably take half the night to heal?” This juxtaposition does not merely contrast past and future; it suggests that the epic register is a performance for tourists, while the real power structure operates through corporate politeness and threat.

The Predictinformer and the Limits of Knowledge

Reynolds introduces a device called the Predictinformer, which delivers factual reports in a dispassionate voice. When the captain asks about military development, the machine states that “in the past thirty-five years military science on Terra has developed tremendously under the impetus of two world-wide conflicts.” The crew’s reaction—sudden fear, a shriek to “Blast off”—reveals that their advanced technology does not guarantee safety. The Predictinformer’s report is cut off mid-sentence, leaving the threat unnamed but unmistakable. This device functions as a narrative shortcut, but it also underscores the story’s central irony: the tourists’ omniscience about the past is useless against a present they failed to predict.

Recurring Details: Clothing and Weaponry

Two details recur across the excerpts: clothing and weapons. Aphrodite is “dressed as though for the bridal room” in a transparent robe, yet she carries a short sword. Later, the Lady Jan appears “clothed as she is and without greater defenses,” implying that her attire is a deliberate choice for the thrill of danger. The Greek hero’s spear and sword are matched by the god Apollo’s “bolt of power.” These details suggest that both ancient and future combatants rely on a blend of display and force. The tourists treat battle as a costume drama, but the weapons are real enough to wound. The radioactive steel tower—a structure whose purpose the crew cannot identify—becomes the final, lethal object that their instruments detect but their categories fail to comprehend.

Incomplete Evidence: What the Excerpts Leave Unsaid

The excerpts cover only the story’s opening and its final crisis. The middle section, which presumably develops the tourists’ other stops or the broader plot, is absent. It is unclear whether the Lady Jan’s threat to have Cajun “stripped of your rank” is carried out, or whether the ship escapes the atomic test. The Predictinformer’s full report is never given. Readers must infer the story’s resolution from the truncated ending. This incompleteness is not a flaw in the text but a limitation of the available sample. Any interpretation of the story’s overall arc—such as whether the tourists learn humility or simply flee—remains speculative. The excerpts do, however, establish a consistent pattern: authority figures are petulant, technology is fallible, and the past is not as safely distant as the tourists assume.

Reynolds’ story rewards attention to its deliberate anachronisms. The clash between epic invocation and spaceship banter is not mere decoration; it drives the satire of tourism as a form of power. Readers may wish to track how each character’s speech reveals their status—the captain’s panic, the lady’s entitlement, the Predictinformer’s neutrality—and to note where the narrative withholds information, such as the nature of the “home planet” or the fate of the crew. The story’s brevity (under 6,000 words) makes it a compact study in how science fiction can repurpose ancient material without simply retelling it.

Reading Tourists to Terra again, I found myself thinking about how Reynolds turns mythology into paperwork, that strange ache when gods become bureaucrats. It reminded me of Problem Planet — Themes and Context, where the same sense of worn-down wonder lingers. These old stories feel like letters from a friend who saw too much and stayed gentle anyway.