Captain Future 03 - Captain Future's Challenge (Summer 1940)

by Edmond Hamilton

  The Comet rushed on through the void. Far ahead in the abyss swam the brilliant white speck of Jupiter, and the fainter green sparks of Uranus and Neptune.

  Close ahead stretched the great belt of cloudy specks that was the wilderness of thousands of asteroids and meteor-swarms which whirl between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter. Most interplanetary shipping avoided this dangerous zone. That was one reason why Captain Future had chosen it for the secret rendezvous.

  The robot steered expertly through the maze of meteor-swarms and booming planetoids. Finally they glimpsed ahead a cluster of five small, swift-lined space-yachts, floating together not far from the edge of a great meteor-swarm.

  “The gravium magnates are here,” Curt commented. “Space-suit on, Otho — you and Simon and I will go over to them. Grag, you’d better stick around the Comet.”

  “While I’m waiting, can I try to find some heavy metals over in those meteors?” Grag asked, pointing toward the nearby drifting swarm. “I want some for Eek — he’s hungry.”

  “The pest is always hungry,” growled Otho.

  “Go ahead, Grag — but don’t go far,” Curt said.

  CAPTAIN FUTURE led the way out of the airlock. He and Otho in space-suits, the android carefully carrying the Brain’s case, they leaped out from the Comet’s side toward the five space-yachts.

  Despite the grave urgency of their mission, Curt felt a thrill of elation as he and Otho and the Brain shot together across the narrow gulf of empty space. It was good to be out in star-decked space again, after the long weeks of quiet research on the moon.

  One of the five small yachts shone with light. The three comrades entered its airlock, and a moment later were inside. In this space-yacht, besides a crew of three hardy Earthmen space-sailors, were six men who came forward with startled exclamations as Captain Future and his companions appeared.

  “Captain Future?” said one, extending his hand. “Glad you’re here. I’ve heard a lot of your abilities. Hope it’s all true. I’m Julius Gunn, president of the Neptunian Gravium Company.”

  Julius Gunn was a middle-aged Earthman who looked as gray and hard and unyielding as a block of granite. His square, stony face, cold eyes and clipped speech gave the impression of a domineering, aggressive capitalist accustomed to power.

  “You all kept this conference with me absolutely secret?” Curt Newton asked him keenly.

  Gunn nodded. “All of us. Each of us came in his own space-yacht — didn’t even tell our sailors where we were going.”

  Then the magnate jerked a thumb toward the younger man beside him. “Carson Brand, my company superintendent. Brought him along. Thought you ought to hear what he has to tell.”

  Carson Brand was a wiry Earthman engineer of thirty with stiff tow hair, bright blue eyes, a brown, battered, pleasant face.

  “Say, this is an honor, Captain Future,” the superintendent said eagerly, looking respectfully at the two Futuremen.

  Julius Gunn waved a powerful hand toward the other four men, naming them one by one.

  “Zuvalo, head of the Uranian Gravium Company; Quarus Qull of the Saturnian company; Orr Libro of Mars; and Kerk El of Mercury. All competitors of mine, of course. But competition doesn’t count at a time like this. Emergency’s too grave for that. This destruction of gravium mines must be stopped. At once!”

  Curt asked a pointblank question.

  “Have any of you any idea as to the identity of the wrecker? Who is he and what’s his motive?”

  “I’m sure I can’t guess,” clipped Julius Gunn. “Must be an irresponsible madman.”

  Kerk El, the Mercurian, laughed mirthlessly.

  “You would say that, of course, Julius.”

  Gunn turned his cold gaze challengingly on the Mercurian. Curt Newton also looked sharply at Kerk El.

  The Mercurian was the youngest of the five magnates. Lithe and swarthy of skin, with tawny eyes, bristling hair and long, curved, talonlike fingers, he was a typical representative of the catlike race whose cities dot the Twilight Zone of the inmost planet.

  “What do you mean by that?” Captain Future asked.

  Kerk El’s tawny eyes flashed.

  “I mean that it’s damned strange that only the gravium mines of Quarus Qull and Orr Libro and myself were destroyed. How do we know that Gunn and Zuvalo didn’t do it, to get a monopoly on gravium?”

  Julius Gunn stared contemptuously at the accusing Martian. “You’re out of your head, Kerk El. Feeling bad about losing your mine. So you accuse Zuvalo and me of doing it. Sheer nonsense.”

  “Of course it’s nonsense,” put in Orr Libro, the Martian magnate, smoothly. “We didn’t come here to quarrel among ourselves but to get Captain Future’s help in this thing.”

  ORR LIBRO was a middle-aged Martian dandy, his big-chested, stilt-limbed body attired in brilliant synthesilks, his red, hairless head and face smoothly groomed, his voice a soft purr.

  “My own company’s mine on Mars is ruined, too,” he said, “but that’s no reason to accuse our friends here of doing it.”

  “Our friends?” echoed Quarus Qull, the Saturnian, in his harsh voice. He laughed gratingly. “Since when were Gunn and Zuvalo anybody’s friends? Both would cut anyone’s throat for profit.”

  The Saturnian was glaring suspiciously. Blue-skinned like all his race, with pale eyes squinting from a bony face, he had the thin, rangy body and slightly bowed legs customary among the people of the planet of great plains and horsemen.

  Gunn snorted contemptuously at the charge.

  “You’ve always been jealous of the Neptunian Company’s success. All of you. That’s why you make these wild accusations.”

  “You deny the accusations, then?” Curt asked coolly.

  “Deny then? Of course I deny them!” barked Gunn, “I had nothing to do with the mysterious disasters to their mines. In fact, I’m afraid my own mines on Neptune are menaced. That’s why I took the trouble to come here.”

  “We’re worried out on Neptune, Captain Future,” the tow-haired Carson Brand said troubledly. “Mr. Gunn’s three big submarine mines may be threatened. Mysterious accidents that have occurred lately have made us afraid of sabotage.”

  Curt shot a question at the Uranian magnate, Zuvalo. “I haven’t heard you deny the charge of Kerk El and Quarus Qull.”

  Zuvalo smiled faintly. The Uranian was a fat, imperturbable, Buddhalike figure with a moon face, and the yellow skin and small black eyes of all his race.

  “Such wild charges are not worth denying,” Zuvalo murmured in his husky voice. “I’ve no desire to wreck other companies.”

  “Your own mine on Uranus’ moon hasn’t been harmed or threatened?” Curt Newton asked.

  The Uranian shook his head. “No, I’ve been lucky.”

  Curt’s eyes narrowed. He was thinking of the atmosphere-clue that had pointed to Uranus’ fourth moon.

  “There’s only one thing to do, Captain Future,” Julius Gunn was saying aggressively. “That’s for you to help us protect our Neptunian gravium mines. They’re the biggest gravium source. Neptune is rich in the metal, and our company has the only concession to mine it.”

  Orr Libro, the Martian, interrupted in his soft, purring voice.

  “Your company had the only gravium concession on Neptune, my dear Julius,” he said. “But that is not so any longer.”

  Gunn stared at him. “What do you mean? Say, what’s in your mind, man — don’t palaver like all your race.”

  Orr Libro’s drooping eyes flashed fire.

  “My race had a mighty civilization on Mars when Earthmen were still half-apes! Twenty-six dynasties of Martian kings reigned in glory when —”

  Then, as though his mask of polished courtesy had only momentarily slipped, Libro’s red face smoothed, “But that is not important now. What is important is that the System Government has granted to the companies of Kerk El and Quarus Qull and myself concessions to develop new gravium mines on Neptune.”

  “What?” yell
ed Julius Gunn, thoroughly aroused. “You’re lying. The Government gave us sole gravium concession on Neptune.”

  “It did,” Orr Libro agreed, “but conditions have changed. It’s vital now that the supply of gravium be increased. That’s why our three companies are now permitted to mine on Neptune.”

  “You don’t like that very well, do you, Julius?” mocked Kerk El, and the Saturnian magnate smiled grimly also.

  “It’s a damned outrage!” Gunn declared. “My company developed submarine mining in the Neptunian ocean. We did the pioneering and advance work. Now you three come sneaking in to cut in on us —”

  GUNN stopped, his granite jaw shutting like a trap, his eyes narrowing.

  “Now I see it!” he clipped. “You and Quarus Qull and Kerk El, or one of you, wrecked your own mines so that you would be able to coax a Neptunian gravium concession from the Government.”

  “Why would they want to destroy their own valuable mining properties?” Captain Future demanded bluntly of Gunn.

  “Bah, their mines are no longer valuable,” Julius Gunn replied. “Gravium nearly exhausted in all of them. Running without profit. They’ve all been envious of my Neptunian concession.”

  Voices rose hotly in denial and counter-charges. Suddenly the televisor-set in the wall buzzed sharply. Carson Brand answered the call. The face of a worried-looking, gray Neptunian appeared in it.

  “It’s Gygo, one of our company officers on Neptune!” Julius Gunn exclaimed. “What is it, Gygo?”

  The Neptunian in the televisor answered quickly.

  “You asked me to call you in case of more trouble, sir. Well, we’ve had two accidents in Mine One and another in Mine Two today. Trouble with the tubeways and pumps, sir.”

  “More of the mysterious accidents that have been occurring out in our submarine mines, Captain Future!” Carson Brand exclaimed.

  “Brand and I will return at once,” Julius Gunn told the Neptunian crisply. He swung around to Curt Newton. “We’ve got to return to Neptune, Captain Future. Can’t stay here listening to myself accused of crimes, while my own mines out there are having trouble!”

  “And I, too, am worried about my mine on Oberon, and want to return to it,” quickly put in the fat Uranian, Zuvalo.

  Curt Newton considered. He hadn’t learned much from the magnates — but he had learned something that pointed the same way as his atmosphere clue. He wanted to follow it up.

  “Very well, gentlemen. You may all go. But I’ll be seeing you all again, perhaps sooner than you think.” Curt bade them farewell.

  He was silent in thought as he and Otho and the Brain returned to the Comet. Grag was still out meteor-mining, it seemed. Curt called him on the wave of his pocket-televisor. “Return, Grag.”

  “Coming, master,” came the robot’s booming answer from the instrument.

  THE five space-yachts of the gravium magnates disappeared one by one in the direction of distant Uranus and Neptune.

  “What do you make of it all, lad?” Simon asked. “One thing stands out,” Curt declared. “The only gravium company which has had no trouble is —”

  He stopped suddenly. He felt a queer chill. Then, with sudden insight, he glanced up through the window.

  Two black space-cruisers, from one of which a long gunlike tube projected, were swooping down toward the Comet!

  “The Wrecker’s set an ambush here for us!” Curt yelled. “They’re using that paralyzing-weapon to freeze me until they can finish us off —”

  He sprang toward the control-room.

  “Their paralyzer won’t work this time!” he blazed. “I took care to put ray-proof pads over my spinal centers, on the way out here. Take the proton-gun, Otho!”

  The two black ships of the wrecker, just overhead now, loosed from their atom-guns a hail of shining, deadly flares aimed at Curt’s ship.

  But Captain Future had slammed the cyclotron switch and yanked back the throttles. With a roar of rocket-tubes, the Comet leaped and avoided the deadly flares.

  In an instant the two black attacking craft and the Comet were circling, looping, rolling in a mad dogfight through the heart of this dangerous asteroidal wilderness.

  “We’re leaving Grag behind!” cried Otho, from the breech of the big proton-gun to which he had leaped.

  “We’ll come back for him later. Try to get one of those ships before they box us!” Curt yelled to the android. As he piloted the tear-drop ship in the whirling, circling fight, Curt turned and shouted back to the Brain.

  “Simon, this attack by the Wrecker ships means that the Wrecker knew I was still alive and knew that I’d be here at this time.”

  “But if the Wrecker knew about the secret rendezvous, he must be —” the Brain started to say, startled.

  “The Wrecker must be one of the six men who just left here!” Curt finished. “They alone knew of the rendezvous!”

  Locked in a death struggle, the Comet and the two black attackers plunged wildly on through the asteroidal wilderness.

  Chapter 5: Grag Becomes a God

  GRAG the robot watched Captain Future, Otho and the Brain plunge across space to the waiting ships of the gravium magnates. Then Grag began preparations for exploring the nearby meteor-swarm in search of heavy metals.

  “There ought to be lots of copper over in those meteors, Eek,” the robot told his pet, “Maybe even gold or silver.”

  Eek’s eyes gleamed hungrily. The little moon-pup could not hear Grag’s words, but he got the thought behind them, for on the airless, soundless moon where Eek’s species had evolved, telepathic hearing had developed.

  Grag went out through the airlock. The robot did not put on any space-suit for he never had to breathe. Eek did not breathe either, and so the moon-pup could survive in airless space too.

  Eek clung tightly with his claws to Grag’s metal shoulder as the great robot leaped out from the Comet toward the swarm of meteors. Using the reactive kick of a tubular rocket-impeller, Grag shot toward the swarm.

  Originally, Grag had caught and tamed the little moon-pup because he had thought that to have a pet made him seem more human. The robot yearned more than anything else to be thought human. Nothing could so enrage him as Otho’s gibes about the un-humanness of his metal body.

  Grag had a slight inferiority complex in regard to his comrades, the other Futuremen. He never thought of Captain Future as anything but the adored master, of course — the helpless baby he had aided in rearing on the lonely moon, the boy whom he had taught strength and endurance, the brilliant man for whose slightest wish Grag would gladly have courted destruction.

  For Simon Wright, Grag had a feeling of unconquerable awe. The vast, cold intellect of the Brain, and the fact that the Brain had been one of the two who had created him, inspired in the robot a deep respect. And as for Otho, the swiftness and agility and more human appearance of the reckless, temperamental android had always inspired a secret envy in Grag.

  But there was one being who thought that Grag was the pinnacle of creation, and that was Eek. The moon-pup had plenty of faults — he had a bad habit of stealing precious metals to eat, he was a terrible coward, his curiosity was forever getting him into trouble. But he was nevertheless single-mindedly devoted to the great robot, and satisfied Grag’s wistful desire to be admired.

  “There is a likely looking meteor, Eek,” the robot boomed, his glowing photoelectric eyes peering ahead. “We shall see what we find there.”

  Grag had floated into the meteor swarm. On all sides could be seen great, jagged black meteors that floated and turned and ground together like flotsam of space.

  The robot impelled himself toward one of the largest of the jagged masses. Landing on it, he put the moon-pup down.

  Eek scrambled away across the pitted, jagged black rock surface of the meteor. He stopped and began to dig furiously with his strong little paws.

  “Let me do it, Eek,” Grag boomed. “I can dig faster.”

  From a little locker in his metal tor
so the robot took a set of drills and chisels that he inserted in place of his detachable metal fingers. Then he began boring into the rock. Soon he unearthed a pocket of rich nickel ore. Eek at once devoured the ore, champing it between his chisel-like teeth.

  “There’s nothing better here than nickel and iron,” Grag declared. “We will try another meteor.”

  HE LEAPED off the jagged mass with Eek, came to rest on another spinning meteor-mass. Again the two began digging. Suddenly from the pocket-televisor at Grag’s side sounded the buzzing call-signal, followed by Captain Future’s voice.

  “Return, Grag.”

  “Coming, master,” Grag answered hastily. He picked up Eek, who was munching a copper fragment. “Come, Eek — we must hurry!”

  Grag started back out through the meteor-swarm toward the Comet, his rocket-impeller kicking him along through space. Then the robot, looking ahead, saw something that made him shout.

  Two black space-cruisers were diving out of the upper void onto the Comet! Their atom-guns were spitting shining death-flares — but Grag saw the Comet whirl suddenly aside and avoid the flares. Then the tear-drop ship and the two attackers circled, looped and dived away, proton-beams and atom-flares crisscrossing. Locked in deadly struggle, the three ships receded.

  “Wait, master — I am coming!” Grag yelled vainly, urging forward with all the power of the rocket-impeller.

  But the Comet and its two antagonists were already disappearing in the asteroidal wilderness. Struggling like hawks of the void, they passed from sight.

  “We must follow, Eek!” Grag cried. “Master will need us!”

  And, kicked forward by repeated blasts of his impeller, the big robot followed through space in the direction in which the three ships had disappeared.

  Eek, clinging to Grag’s shoulder, peered with bright, scared eyes. Eek knew there was righting, and the moon-pup wanted no part of it. He believed in peace at any price.

  But Grag’s strongest emotion had been aroused — his devotion to Captain Future. On and on through the jungle of meteor-swarms and booming planetoids he went, like a great metal projectile propelled through the void by his impeller’s blasts.