For a scenic browse, and an answer-page for Guess The World....
...Almost centrally located in the Martian quarter was a glittering, garish locality where every diversion could be found. This was called Pulambar, after the great City of Pleasure at home on Mars.
Along the equator ran a strip of dry, hot sand, rusty red - an imported bit of the Martian desert. Across that sand-strip, to the south, a quarter was divided into four smaller areas, for Ganymede, Io, Europa and Callisto.
Above this quarter, tethered like a balloon by a gravity beam, hovered a sort of satellite. A twenty-mile globe had been artificially made of banded gas without and a solid core within. It was a miniature Jupiter, and some thought it the greatest wonder of all the Fair.
The northern quarter of the Eastern Hemisphere was Earth's, divided into many smaller districts for the wealth of various national and continental exhibits. Here, as with the Martian Pulambar, there was a central area, but it was for sports... Along the equator tossed the waves of an artificial ocean...
The southern shore, at the very equatorial line, was matted with Venusian jungle, under a localized fog...
Manly Wade Wellman, The Worlds of Tomorrow (Thrilling Wonder Stories, October 1940)
...Ronnie noticed something off to his right. It was a cleft in the rusty ground. The other members of the party were straggled out ahead of him now; for he hadn't been able to move quite as fast as they in his ill-fitting space armor.
The cleft offered no unusual promise. The men had ignored it. Nevertheless, youthful whim sent Ronnie hopping to its brink. Thick gloom enveloped its depths. But close to the torn lip of the cleft there were curious, broken fragments lying in the dust. They were flat and flaky, like pieces of shattered, red glass. As any adult would have done, Ronnie stooped and picked one of them up. Inside the thin, translucent texture of the shard, there slumbered a deep, bloody glow.
Ronnie wanted to yell out about his find to his brother up ahead; but something unfathomable restrained him...
Raymond Z Gallun, Red Shards on Ceres (Thrilling Wonder Stories, December 1937)
It was the thirty-ninth day, Earth time, since the Lady Betty's
departure. Pelican sat straddle-legged on the apex of a sixty-foot tor, the
highest piece of ground he had encountered, and surveyed the scene before
Away to the brief, deeply curved horizon stretched a monotonous
landscape of dust, rocks and loam, molded into low hummocks and shallow
gullies, dotted here and there with tiny shrubs and berry-bearing bushes.
A heavy thump reached his ears, he turned his head, caught a
momentary glimpse of something falling, and heard a second thump. He
jumped to his feet, stared without avail, commenced running in the
direction from which the mysterious sounds had come.
Assisted by weak gravity, handicapped by thin atmosphere, he
bounded along in giant strides, his chest straining mightily. A gun whined in
a distant ravine; Pelican saw its thin, pale-golden beam angle to the sky.
Two figures—a woman and a uniformed man—sprang from the depression,
raced across his line of progress a quarter of a mile ahead. Four more
figures sprouted from the same spot and rushed after the fugitives.
"Pirates!" cried Pelican....
Eric Frank Russell, The Saga of Pelican West (Astounding, February 1937)
…With infinite care I pushed open the closet door, stepped out, then slid the bolt again to make it appear that I was still a prisoner. On tiptoe I approached a window, raised it. Still no sound other than the hiss of the torch. I swung down to the ground, closed the window behind me, and ran toward the sleek silvery little space-ship.
The ice-covered plain was bitterly cold; I had neglected to put on one of the asbestoid over-suits. The deserted huts, the head of the mine shaft loomed like a row of dark specters in the wan starlight. And since the cold light of the stars was cast from different angles, double, triple and even quadruple shadows fell across the barren wastes. Bleak, desolate, to an earthman, but I was used to the cold Cerean scene. Great jagged pinnacles of rock stabbing like crooked daggers at the frosty sky; rounded meteor holes dug into the ground; occasional patches of pale ice-moss, dangling like white beards from the grotesque rocks; and beyond, the glistening plain, dropping away to a ridiculously close horizon. I gasped in the cold air as I ran, felt it bite my lungs. Without gravity shoes, I covered the distance to the ship in a dozen great bounding leaps…
Frederick Arnold Kummer, Jr., Star Pirate (Planet Stories, Summer 1940)