a native or inhabitant of the Sirius system
Voltaire says that a young man, Micromegas, from one of the planets which revolve about the star Sirius, was eight leagues, or twenty-four miles high, and that he must have measured fifty thousand feet round the waist, or about ten miles, in order to bear the same proportion to the size of that planet, and these mere good proportions for beauty. At the age of 450, his beard was just beginning to grow. To the Sirian, an inhabitant of the planet Saturn, by whom he was accompanied on his travels, appeared as a dwarf, with the height of six thousand feet.
In about 8½ minutes the first ray of light reaches us from the sun, after he rises in the morning. Now, although that is traveling pretty fast, yet it would take a ray of light, starting from Sirius, 23 years to reach us here; it will take the Sirians 23 years waiting to see the glories of our one hundredth liberty year, and the splendid show of the Centennial at Philadelphia, the gathering of the fruits of the great republic, and the gathering of the fruits of the nations of the earth will not dazzle their eyes until about the year 1900.
But they had fought bravely and well, for they had destroyed more than double their number of the Sirian ships. The Sirians delayed at the moon for some days to reorganize their fleets and arrange their plans for the future; then they dashed across the intervening space, and prepared to break down the last line of defence that was left to the Anglo-Saxons.
During the conversation, the Sirian had periodically tested the atmosphere beyond the hull. He spoke, rather absently, as though concentrating on something other than his words.
The captain, in a whirl of outraged emotions, was yelling…at the Sirian to go to Great Patham’s Second Hell.
‘Oh, the ship is definitely slowing down,’ said the Sirian.
[Responding to a letter about Venus-related terms] Just think of the problems when we finally reach, say, the star system of Sirius. If we call the folks there ‘Sirians,’ how do you think the Terran Syrians will react?
The end of the Conference was marked by all kinds of festivities and jollities. We were taken on trips to other Canopean colonies; invited, ‘if we were in that part of the Galaxy,’ to visit them for as long as we liked—the usual courtesies. Back on our Home Planet we Sirians lost no time. Planets in the healthy, vigorous condition of Rohanda were—and are—rare. We of the Colonial Service were all delighted and full of optimism. Incidentally, it was at that Conference that Rohanda acquired its name.
I had 2 billion potential viewers, except that my Sirian hadn’t arrived, and I didn’t have a studio to put him in. If Roskonnor didn’t go on the air tonight, nobody on Earth would ever trust a Sirian again.
The aliens didn’t often have a chance for interplanetary get-togethers. So, despite the alleged seriousness of the crisis at hand, when Qwerk called the meeting to order, most were still chatting excitedly, catching up on news, and showing each other some of the knickknacks they’d abducted on recent trips to Earth. A Cherub had scored a dolphin-shaped dildo, which a Sirian was now sticking up one of his three nostrils, to general amusement.
Donovan grinned at her, making no attempt to deny it. ‘She’s got everything... brains... looks...’ ‘And a figure that doesn’t quit.’ Kristine laughed, watching Diana in profile. ‘But would you want your sister to marry a Sirian?’
There were thirty-seven in the waiting room, not counting the Terminal officials—a couple other human males; a barrel-like Sirian with small, hooded eyes and a round hole for a mouth; an Alpha Centauran with a feathery topknot, a fierce-looking beak, and vestigial wings; and several whose home world he could not identify.
Last modified 2021-12-30 14:38:01
In the compilation of some entries, HDSF has drawn extensively on corresponding entries in OED.