Visionary Wonder Stories is a magazine that has been very important in the There's Something in the Sea storyline. Its offices are located in New York City and its main editor is Lex Harlan. This periodical publishes many fictional stories that appeal to readers interested in strange phenomenon. One of the most well known stories published was "Utropolis" by a writer utilizing the alias of RØd Killian Quain. The story became widely popular with members of Phil Isidores UFO research community, NUFOS. This caused a surge of popularity for the magazine and for its editor.
During the events of Something in the Sea, it was revealed that RØd Killian Quain, an alias of Orrin Oscar Lutwidge, had used this magazine to publicize information about his time in Rapture, in his "Utopian Metropolis" manuscript. Unfortunately, Lex Harlan edited this manuscript so much that the setting is barely recognizable as Rapture, and Quain's chance to spread the truth was lost. However, Visionary Wonders capitalized on the increased popularity that this story brought. Quain also wrote a classified ad in this magazine in an attempt to contact his faithful supporters in the International Order of the Pawns. Mark Meltzer pieced together many clues related to Rapture and Lutwidge's history by reading these publications.
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Lex Harlan c/o VW Publications, 887
DO YOU BELIEVE IN UTROPOLIS? Is
the fiction just fancy or - or is it founded in
fact? Are you among the Worthy who
deserve to learn the deepest secrets? Would you experience True Rapture?
The game is not yet finished and may
begun anew by pawns bold enough to
play. For more information, provide us with
your reasons for believing. Send an SASE
to R.K.Q. c/o I.O.O.P. Hellgate...........PO
Regarding R. Killian Quain's "The Last Days of Utropolis," all I can say is - WOW! I just wish you would can the intros suggesting that it's "all true." The stories don't need the extra hype!
Flash, we're just relaying what Mr. Quain tells us! The author claims that he's never written a single word of fiction in his entire life. When his manu- scripts arrive, they read like news reports. With Mr. Quain's permission, our staff "fictional- izes" the material to give it that Visionary Wonder impact. But don't fret - only minor details are changed to protect your fragile mind!
To Whom It May Concern:
Enough is enough. This used to be a science fiction magazine. As a card-carrying industrial engineer I can tell you the science of "Utropo- lis" is impossible. As to the fiction - I know how to tell fantasy from fact even if the editors of this magazine cannot. Please cancel my subscription immediately.
Sorry you feel that way, H.! But lots of long-term readers tell us they love the stories - and copies are flying off the news- stands!
Dear Mr. Quain:
Thank you for another eye- opening set of revelations regarding Utropolis. But I am left wondering how you learned all this amazing information. Have you actually been to Utropolis? Are any of the characters based upon your own experiences? Where is the mysterious city located?
J. Jay Fyler
We have a billion questions for Mr. Quain ourselves - but unfortunately, he vanished from our lives as mysteriously as he arrived! However, Mr. Quain advised us that NONE of the characters are based upon him... However, they are inspired by real events and real people. For more insight on Mr. Quain, shift your eyeballs to page 10 and feast upon the revealing intro to the next installment of our four part serial: "UTROPOLIS NOW!"
Relax, readers... in a moment
you will dive into the next chapter
of the thrilling prelude of our
"Utropolis" Saga. But first, in
response to many questions, I
wanted to give you some insight
into the man behind the magic.
It was sometime in the sultry
summer of 1960. I was the last
man standing at the Visionary
Wonder offices -- burning the
long-aftermidnight oil to beat a
deadline. The building was dark
and strangely quiet as I took a
smoke break on the rooftop,
enjoying the twinkling splendor
of New York's nightside as I
nursed my nicotine cravings. I
descended back down to the 17th
floor and jangled my keys to
open the door of the Visionary
Wonder offices - but the door
drifted open al on its own!
I peered intently at the scarred
brass beneath the doorknob. After
the many misadventures in my
existence, I knew a picked lock
when I saw one! Instantly on
edge, I reached in my back-
pocket for my trusty switchblade.
With a soft SNIKT, I steeled it for
battle... then I slipped into my<
There, I saw a strange sight. He
was a middle-aged man -- once
buttoned-down and proper but
now rumpled and sweat-stained.
In my shadow-inked office, his
face seemed strangely asymmetrical.
VISIONARY WONDER STORIES
The odd jutting angles beneath
that monk-like rime of receding
hair made me wonder if he had
been through some terrific
accident. What scars lay beneath
the skin? And what dark light
burned in the eyes behind those
old-fashioned spectacles... the
eyes of a man who has seen too
His gaze burned straight into
"There is a story that must be
told," he said in a rich, educated
voice. "And I am running out of
time to tell it."
I gawked at the massive stack
of paper in front of him. "That's
not a story, bud," I replied.
"That's an encyclopedia!"
"It is a history," he responded.
"All that I know about the lives
that may now be lost forever... in
a city like no other. A Paradise
My hand had been drifting
towards the phone. My gut
instinct? Call in the coppers! But
I paused. Something about this
odd duck intrigued me. I
defanged my knife and settled
down across the desk from him.
"Lex Harlan," I said by way of
introduction. "What's your name,
pal?" I reached out my hand to
shake his. He glanced away - and
by way of answer stuffed the title
page into my waiting fingers.
ROD KILLIAN QUAIN, it
said. Except the O in ROD had a
slash through it. "What is that?" I
"Norwegian," he answered.
"Well," I said... "I'm pretty
sure our typewriters don't have
that key." With my blue pencil, I
crossed out the OD. "R. Killian
Quain"... Yes, I liked the sound of
it. I dived into the first few pages.
The story was dry, dense, packed
with facts. Not my normal cuppa.
But there was something about it
that grabbed my imagination with
Pulsating through the under-
currents of the narrative was the
rarest quality in fiction - a sense
of complete conviction that the
tale is real. After 20 pages, I
realized that Quain was still
staring at me, pensive. I looked up
at him and grinned.
"I don't know why, buddy," I
said... "But I've got the feeling
there's a story in here."
"No," he said softly. "There is
"Well, let's get to work," I said,
"and make sure somebody reads it."