Rays of Death aka New Death

From the heart of the jungle comes a savage cry of victory. This is Tarzan, Lord of the Jungle. From the black core of Dark Africa, land of enchantment, mystery, and violence, comes one of the most colorful figures of all time.

Transcribed from the immortal pan of Edgar Rice Burroughs, Tarzan, the bronze, white son of the jungle. And now on the very words of Mr. Burroughs, the story of Rays of Death. Many, many times in the past, the coming of the white man, his machinery and his guns and his cruelties, had brought death and destruction to Tarzan's jungle.

And so, perhaps it was fortunate that the activities of the jungle lord kept him hundreds of miles away from the base of isolated Kiabo-Motton during the construction of T-S-E-M-1. The huge, windless buildings of solid brick would have aroused his curiosity.

The enormous corral with its high steel fencing and electrified guard wire would have instilled and could he possibly have guessed at the purpose of TSEM1, the Aboriginal fury that civilization had changed, but little would have surged within him.

How much longer Earthly, how much longer? We have not too much more construction work to do, sir. When they lower that last boulder into place, the confinement area for the animals would be completed. And high time.

We've got to move faster Earthly. That's all there is to it. Mr. Forbes, Martin, I've worked the clock round. My staff has done likewise. And of the hundred native workers kept in Lawrence lined up, there's not one man who's done less than his best.

You can't ask fairer than that. I suppose not, but I'm extremely worried about those natives. Inasmuch as their skilled workers, there are cuts above the average. The man who thinks is bound to start asking questions in time.