“He’s coming back to consciousness,” Simon Wright rasped. “When he does, we’ve got to make him talk. We’ll use hypnotic suggestion to find out what he knows,” the Brain continued. “Get me the hypnosis-inducer.”
From a cabinet Grag brought out a small mechanism consisting of striped spiral discs mounted on a tiny atomic motor. The Brain had him set these up in front of the Venusian, who now was stirring and opening his eyes. The prisoner looked about with bewildered, hollow-looking eyes, and then his gaze was fascinated by the whirling, spiral discs.
Joan watched with vague horror as the process of hypnotizing the prisoner continued. Grag constantly altered the speed and direction of spin of the rotating discs, whose stripes seemed now to flow together and now to separate. Finally, when the Venusian’s whole body was rigid and his eyes staring straight ahead at the spinning discs, the Brain spoke to him in his metallic, penetrating voice.
“Who are you?”
“I am Ki Iri, fisherman of Venus,” answered a thick, slurred whisper.
“You have Ki Iri’s body, but your mind — you — are a stranger,” the Brain persisted. “Of what race are you?”
The staring prisoner spoke slowly.
“I am of a race that —”
He stopped, his dilated eyes changing slightly, his voice edged with a weird, hypnotized elation when he again spoke.
“My comrades are here! Outside this ship — my mind senses them approaching —”
“Grag! Look outside!” ordered the Brain sharply.
The great robot tore open the door of the Comet and rushed out into the darkness to search around the ship.
The Brain and Joan Randall looked after him, tense with the suspense of new menace. Then a flying shape flashed from behind them and vanished out the door. It was Ki Iri — escaping!
“Get him!” rasped the Brain in a shrill, raging voice. “He tricked us — he wasn’t hypnotized at all!”
Joan sprang out into the darkness. She heard Grag running clankingly, heard the robot’s furious booming shout. But after a few minutes, Grag came striding back.
“He got away!” boomed the robot. “He slipped into the dark and I was not fast enough to catch him.”
“Tricked like a schoolboy!” cried the Brain furiously. “To think that I let that happen. I underestimated him, and he fooled me neatly. He pretended to be hypnotized, and seized the chance to turn our attention and then escape,” rasped the angry Brain. “I should have known I was facing a mind of great cunning.”
But Joan’s thoughts were all of Captain Future. The girl agent’s mind was never far from the wizard of science, and she paled now as she realized his peril.
“Simon, this puts Captain Future in danger!” she exclaimed. “Curt is disguised as Ki Iri, trying to find the Wrecker. If the real Ki Iri appears, and Curt’s imposture is exposed —”
“You are right,” said the Brain sharply. “Curtis must be warned at once.”
“By his pocket televisor?” Grag asked anxiously.
“No, we dare not call him on that,” Simon rasped. “If he’s with the Wrecker, the call would give him away. But we’ve got to find him at once.”
At this tense moment, Ezra Gurney appeared in the doorway of the Comet. The old interplanetary marshal’s faded blue eyes narrowed shrewdly as he perceived their excitement.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded.
Joan explained urgently.
“That’s bad!” Gurney commented. “Captain Future ought to know about that devil’s escape, quick.”
HE TURNED swiftly. “I’ll go back to Amphitrite and try to find him and warn him. You better wait here, Joan.”
Joan felt a little more hope, as Ezra hastily departed. She looked tautly out into the dawn-mists after him.
“I’ll never forgive myself if anything happens to Curtis because of my stupidity,” the Brain was muttering.
“Nothing will happen to master!” Grag boomed confidently. The robot’s photoelectric eyes looked to Joan, though, for reassurance.
Time passed, each minute dragging. Full day had come, the misty day and thin sunlight of Neptune. Still the Comet lay through the passing hours concealed in the rocks of the shore. Still no word came. Finally, at dusk, there came a sharp buzz from the televisor.
“That may be Captain Future now!” Joan cried eagerly.
But it was Ezra Gurney. “I’m still hunting for Captain Future in Amphitrite,” the old marshal reported worriedly. “He hasn’t returned yet?”
“No, and we’re more worried!” Joan exclaimed.
“Well, I’ll keep on lookin’ for him,” Ezra declared, his weatherbeaten face serious. “I’ll call again.”
Joan turned to the Brain. “Simon, we’ve got to do something! We can’t just wait and wait.”
“Impatience won’t help us,” Simon rasped.
“But I can’t wait longer!” Joan burst out. “I’m not like you and Grag. I’m human and —”
She stopped, afraid of having wounded his feelings. But there was a frosty glimmer in the Brain’s glassy eyes.
“I was human too, once, long before you were born, girl,” said Simon’s metallic voice. “I still remember what it was like, the hot emotions that choked and distorted my thinking.”
“I’m sorry — I didn’t mean anything,” Joan said penitently. “No one could be more wonderful than you and Grag and Otho!”
The televisor buzzer again. “Maybe Ezra has some news this time!” Grag boomed eagerly, as he turned the mechanism on.
But to their amazement, it was Otho’s face that appeared on the screen. The android still wore his disguise of an Earthman fisherman, but was panting, dripping wet, his face scratched.
“Simon! Grag! Listen!” snapped the android. “I’ve found the Wrecker’s base! I’m there now — it’s on Black Peak, biggest of the Black Isles.”
In swift, tumbling sentences, the android told them how he had accompanied the fishing-boat northwestward, and had swam from it toward Black Peak.
“Couple of swallowers nearly got me in the water,” Otho hissed, “but I killed one with my proton-gun and the other cursed beast stopped to eat its body. So I got to the island safe, and managed to climb up onto the plateau atop it. And I found two unguarded spaceships here — the Wrecker’s two remaining ships!”
Otho continued breathlessly. “The Wrecker’s base is somewhere on this island, therefore. It shouldn’t be hard to find it. Get the chief and come here full speed.”
“But we don’t know where Curtis is!” crackled the Brain. “He’s gone off after the Wrecker, and the real Ki Iri escaped.”
“Devils of space!” swore the android. “Why did you let that prisoner escape? It puts the chief in danger —”
“I know, I know,” rasped the Brain. “Listen, Otho, if the Wrecker’s base is on that island, Curtis may be there — he went after the Wrecker, remember. We’re going to come to you at once.”
“Good!” hissed Otho. “Land silently atop the island. I’ll be waiting. And hurry!”
GRAG was already striding clankingly to the controls. The Comet zoomed up suddenly through the gathering darkness and rocketed low across Amphitrite Island and the city lights, and then over the black sea beyond. The speed with which they tore through the night above the vast ocean was indication of Grag’s anxiety. They flew northwestward through obscurity until Triton suddenly rose up from the western horizon, cast its silvery light across the heaving sea.
“There’s the Maelstrom down there to the left,” Simon declared. “The Spider Islands and Black Isles are not far beyond.”
The Black Isles showed as dark little masses standing out upon the silver planetary sea. Highest among them towered one flat-topped island plateau of rock.
“That’s Black Peak — head for it, Grag,” Simon said. “Cut most of the rockets and go in as quietly as passible.”
With only a dim, murmuring drone from its muffled rocket-tubes, the Comet circled toward the flat
top of the high island. The silver light of Triton showed the island top as a rocky black plateau, upon which glinted the dark metal bulks of two small, swift-lined spaceships that were parked there.
Grag brought the tear-drop craft down like a ghost-ship upon the rock nearby. Then the robot opened the door and, picking up the Brain, strode outside with Joan Randall following.
They stood in silvery moonlight. Suddenly, a flying shape came through the night toward them. Grag grabbed out his proton-pistol, but the newcomer was Otho.
“Did you stop on the way to play with Eek?” Otho inquired angrily of the robot. “I thought you were never coming.”
“I drove the Comet full speed!” Grag protested angrily. “I’d like to have seen you make as good time.”
“A fine mess you made of things, letting that prisoner escape,” Otho accused. “Seems like the chief can’t trust anybody but myself to do things right.”
Grag would have made angry retort but Simon’s metallic voice interrupted their quarrel.
“None of that bickering now!” lashed the Brain. “Otho, have you any idea where the Wrecker’s base is on this island?”
“I think I’ve found the way to it!” Otho replied eagerly. “It’s a path that leads down from the summit of this cliff, through crevices and caverns, to some lower part of the island. I would have explored it before now but wanted to wait until you had come.”
“Good, I will follow that path with you,” Grag boomed. “We will find master and kill those who would harm him.”
“You big iron lummox, I don’t want your help!” hissed the android.
“Listen, you two!” the Brain commanded. “You will follow that path and see if it actually leads to the Wrecker’s base. If it does, ascertain first whether Curtis is there, then act if he seems in danger. Otherwise, don’t show yourselves.”
“All right, come along then, Grag,” growled Otho, starting off. “But try to keep those big metal feet of yours quiet.”
The robot and android left Joan and the Brain at the Comet, and hastened across the moonlit plateau. Otho led to a crevice in the rock near the parked spaceships. A worn path led down into this crack. The android started down the path and the great robot hastily followed.
They found themselves in an almost absolute darkness. Only a faint ray of light from above seeped into the place. But that was enough light for the cat-pupiled eyes of Otho and Grag’s photoelectric vision. Gloomy chasms and labyrinthine connecting caverns in the heart of the rock island opened before them. Their path led past yawning abysses whose black depths were impenetrable even to their eyes. Ever the way wound downward.
“I don’t like this place much,” Grag grunted. “Reminds me of the great caves of Uranus, where we —”
“Listen!” Otho hissed suddenly. “I hear voices — and the sea!”
THEY moved more cautiously, their proton-guns ready in their grasp. Then they glimpsed light ahead. The path debouched into a great hollow space dimly lit by suspended red fluoric lamps.
“The Wrecker’s secret base!” Otho hissed. “See!”
They looked into the buried water-cavern in which, hours before, Captain Future had faced the Wrecker. Now the only persons in the cavern were some scores of the Wrecker’s hollow-eyed planetary followers, who were lounging about the broad rock ledge at the side of the water.
“Imps of the sun, there’s the chief!” exclaimed Otho incredulously. “And he isn’t wearing his Venusian fisherman disguise!”
Among those men on the ledge strolled the unmistakable figure of Captain Future. His red hair, tanned face and lithe form were easily recognizable.
“I can’t understand it!” Otho murmured bewilderedly. “He isn’t a prisoner — he even has his proton-gun. Why would the Wrecker’s men let him stay free like that?”
“Master must be playing some trick on them that we can’t understand,” Grag whispered, with perfect confidence in Curt.
“It must be so, though devil take me if I can comprehend how he’s done it,” Otho muttered. “Anyway, we’ve got to attract his attention without the others seeing us. Wait till he comes this way.”
Captain Future was sauntering back and forth. He seemed to be waiting for something. Then, as they saw Curt turn and stroll in their direction, Otho tensed. He waited until the red-headed scientific wizard was near the dark cleft in which he and Grag crouched concealed.
“Chief!” Otho hissed in a low whisper. “This way — it’s us!”
The android saw Captain Future stiffen, and look sharply. Curt took a few steps forward and stood staring at them.
And Otho was vaguely uneasy as he saw that Captain Future’s appearance was somehow subtly different. It was Curt who stood there — there could be no doubt about that.
But his gray eyes had a hollow, fixed look in them, his handsome face was queerly stiff.
“Chief, what’s the matter with you — don’t you know us?” Otho whispered anxiously. “You look at your comrades so queer —”
At that moment a thing happened that staggered the android. Captain Future turned and yelled to the Wrecker’s men.
“It’s the Futuremen!” Curt shouted. “Come running here and capture them, quick!”
The Wrecker’s followers rushed forward instantly.
“The chief has betrayed us — he’s helping the Wrecker!” Otho cried dazedly, stupefiedly. “We must be dreaming!”
Chapter 17: City of the Sea-Folk
CAPTAIN FUTURE, when he was hurled into unconsciousness in the mind-exchange chamber, seemed floating in unrelieved blackness. Then gradually his consciousness returned. He opened his eyes. At first he thought he was still in the same chamber, that nothing had happened. Then he noticed that the coffinlike receptacle in which he lay was filled with green water.
He was living under that water, breathing it! And everything about his own body seemed strange and new to him. Bewilderedly, he looked down at himself. Curt felt his reason stagger as he regarded his body. For it was not his body that he now possessed.
It was a white, semi-human body whose upper legs were grown together in a powerful tail that ended in fins instead of feet. His arms, too, were finned, his fingers webbed. Wildly, Curt felt his head and face and neck. His head was hairless, bulbous in shape. Instead of a nose there was only a small nasal opening. And at the sides of his throat were gills, closing and unclosing rhythmically, extracting oxygen from the water.
“A sea-man!” Curt thought wildly. “They’ve transferred my mind into a sea-man’s body!”
He threshed around in the water of his chamber, raising his head above surface to try to see out. There was another chamber beside him — an air-filled one. In it lay an Earthman with tanned face, red hair and a long, rangy figure. That, Curt knew, was his own body, out of which his mind had been lifted by hell-born magic of unearthly science!
Curt Newton saw this much, and then he became aware that he was choking and strangling. He could not live with his head out of water like this. His gills were closing, starved for the water that now meant life. Dazedly, Captain Future drew his head back down under the water of his tank. As the life-giving water rushed again through his body, Curt tried to orient himself to this amazing situation.
The Wrecker came over and looked down into the chamber at him. The dark, space-suited figure uttered a muffled laugh.
“How do you like your new body, Captain Future?” mocked the arch-plotter.
Captain Future had been in terrible situations before. But never had he faced such an appalling thing as this. Always before, no matter how terrible the menace, at least he had been himself, free to act and fight. But now he was prisoned in an alien body — a body that could not live for a minute out of the water.
Hands reached into the chamber from the outside waters and seized him — webbed hands of the sea-men out there. Curt was dragged out, and metal chains clasped swiftly upon his wrists as he struggled clumsily and futilely. Each of the chains was held by a sea-man.
The Wrecker was now speaking to the sea-men through the “talker” apparatus that converted sonic vibrations in the water to air vibrations, and vice versa.
“Better take him back to your city and prison him with the others,” the Wrecker was telling the sea-men.
The leader of the sea-men agreed.
“We will do that. And at exactly noon tomorrow a party of us will strike to destroy Mine Three.”
“And while Mine Three is being destroyed,” reminded the Wrecker, “you must gather all your forces to annihilate Amphitrite island.”
“It shall be done,” was the seaman’s answer. “By tomorrow night, the intruders from other worlds will be swept from Neptune forever.”
THEN the sea-folk leader turned his attention to Captain Future. “You will come with us and not try to escape,” the sea-man stated. “If you do try to break away, we can slay you instantly with our force-rods.”
Curt Newton understood. The metal rods carried by the sea-men contained charges of atomic force. Chained as he was there was no hope of his being able to evade the deadly weapons. So Curt swam with the sea-men as they started to glide out of the water-cavern toward the open sea. The light chains attached to Curt’s wrists were allowed to hang loosely so that he could use his arms for swimming.
Swimming just under the surface of the water with the sea-men, Curt felt clumsy and awkward. He could not glide forward with the same smooth, powerful strokes of arms and tail as the others.
But this new body he occupied had the long physical habit of swimming to aid it. Its muscles fell into accustomed routines. With surprising rapidity, Curt found the way to swim like the others, his arms back against his body and beating in a narrow radius, his taillike limb pushing him forward in great strokes. Like a human projectile he felt himself shooting forward through the green waters, companioned by the other sea-men.
Curt felt miserably depressed. Not alone because he was prisoned in an alien body. It was the thought that now in his own body was an alien, enemy mind — a mind that would use Captain Future’s prestige to help the Wrecker in his dark, sweeping schemes.
Captain Future 03 - Captain Future's Challenge (Summer 1940) Page 14