The John Russell Fearn Science Fiction Megapack

by John Russell Fearn

  With something of an effort the ad­viser found his voice.

  “Why of course you are welcome to stay here until you put your affairs in order. Tell me, though, how did you defeat time in crossing from your world to this one?”

  Razak smiled faintly. “Suspended animation, my friend, which set time at zero. Some day you may understand that condition. Our awakening was perfectly timed because we knew you would find us.”

  “Knew?”

  “Certainly. There are no secrets in time, or space when you understand them.”

  Lothan frowned darkly. “You understand, of course, that you may only remain on this planet until you discover another planet whereon to continue your activities? We of this world have no room for permanent strangers such as yourselves.”

  “At least you display the lack of courtesy common to the true scientist,” Razak commented dryly. “It may per­haps interest you to know that we of Disep are intellectuals. We gained your clumsy machinery stage aeons ago. When our world was dying we became masters of everything scientific. Our last achievement was the construction of the machine that brought us through in­teratomic space.”

  “I understand.” Lothan nodded, but his great eyes were narrowed.

  “I further understand from your mind that your ruler was really responsible for our being alive, by his use of cosmic energy. You realize, of course, that he is a deadly being to have on this world?”

  “I imagined so,” Lothan said. “Is it your concern?”

  “In a way,” Razak answered calmly. “You see, I happen to know that your main object in allowing your ruler to use cosmic rays was so that he would ultimately be deposed and allow you to rule in his stead.”

  At that Lothan moved slowly for­ward, suddenly shot out his immense hand and grasped the imperturbable Razak by his slender throat.

  “So you read thoughts?” he asked with minacious softness. “You burst into our world and the first thing you do is to poison the minds of my col­leagues against me! We do not like such people as you, Razak. I was pre­pared to be tolerant until you straight­ened yourselves out; as it is I have no alternative but to imprison you until it is decided what we shall do with you. Maybe we’ll set you to work. In any event, you will learn that, intellectual or otherwise, it does not pay to insult the future ruler of Mars. I am powerful, remember that!”

  Razak shrugged his slim shoulders. “I only speak the truth, Lothan. Im­prison us all if you wish; it will not matter.”

  “Not matter?” Lothan repeated suspi­ciously, releasing his hold on the man.

  The little ruler did not explain him­self further. Inwardly fuming, Lothan turned to his servants and gave swift orders. Then he watched grimly as the entire party of men, women and chil­dren were herded unceremoniously from the laboratory to the regions of the pris­ons below the city itself.

  As he gained the doorway, Razak looked back. “Remember, my friend, that your king is a menace to all living beings so long as he remains on this planet. The life energy he has within him will communicate itself to other liv­ing beings once that screen is removed. He is neither dead nor alive, and will remain in that state until the cosmic life energy within him expends itself after innumerable centuries. Fire him into space away from this planet. Never allow him to touch anything that lives; never allow him to make contact with any planet again. Though he himself will die the instant he touches space, the energy within him will live on, being itself part of the cosmos.”

  “Are you daring to give me orders?” demanded Lothan savagely.

  “No, I am merely warning you. Do not forget that recently you were near to him when the lid of his insulating case was removed. So was your com­panion Ithos—as well as some of you others.”

  “Well?” Lothan demanded, but his tone had obviously changed.

  “That is all. You’ll learn more later. It is a pity your hospitality is so bad; you have much to learn yet of the ways of Razak of Disep.”

  With that the strange individual turned and followed his people, leaving Lothan and his colleagues staring dubi­ously after him.

  IV

  Though Lothan tried very hard to reassure himself that Razak’s bald statements were merely empty va-porings, he could not altogether shake off a grim conviction of dread, a feeling that the strange little being from the microcosm had known exactly what he was talking about. Once he felt in­clined to visit the man and learn more, then refrained. He was a prisoner, awaiting judgment with his comrades for treasonable assertions. That, at least, was how Lothan looked at it.

  Ithos was frankly afraid and ad­mitted it. Umyas was quietly suspicious. Razak’s remarks had not fallen on stony ground. Coupled with a natural dislike for the overbearing Lothan and the strange malady of the master, the bi­ologist was inclined to believe that the intellectual from Disep knew exactly what was in the traitorous Martian’s mind.

  What Razak had meant by imprison­ment meaning nothing to him had not so far become evident. He and his com­rades languished deep in the bowels of the equatorial city, within a steel-lined cell, permitted only the tiniest orifice for air. Machines brought food once and it was promptly refused. The intel­lectuals of Disep never ate. By some curious process of synthesis and mind control they were able to live on air alone, extracting its essences in a man­ner totally incomprehensible to the less intelligent men of Mars.

  The night following the strange events in the laboratory Lothan found himself confronted with the frightened Ithos, his scales trembling with the ob­vious terror that possessed him.

  “Lothan, I had to speak with you!” he panted. “I could not repose during the rest hour; I want Jo talk. Do you think the people suspect us?”

  “Certainly not!” Lothan retorted coldly. “All along you have been a worry to me, Ithos—too jumpy, liable to betray everything in an unguarded mo­ment. Calm yourself and leave every­thing to me. Our path is now entirely clear. We know that Vaspus will never recover, that the energy of life pos­sessing him has destroyed his physical powers forever. Only his mind lives, and that will soon pass.”

  “You mean you are going to take Razak’s advice and fire him into space?”

  “I am taking nobody’s advice but my own. Certainly Vaspus must be fired into space, an isolated wanderer; other­wise he will pollute us all. I admit that Razak has borne out my theory to a cer­tain extent—that the energy radiating from Vaspus is dangerous. Therefore, he shall be sent into the void before dawn. I have decided on that.”

  “And the people? Will they permit it, do you think?”

  Lothan’s expression was one of in­finite scorn. “Permit it!” he echoed. “It is not a question of permission when I am the virtual ruler of this planet. Nobody understands so much of the control of this world as I. I was Vas­pus’ chief adviser and acclaimed by him as successor—that is enough. Once I am actually in power I shall put into force the plans he always refused to ex­ecute. We will expand—conquer—master the far corners of the universe and become controllers of the microcosm, too.” He leaned forward tensely. “Do you not see, Ithos, what we can do? Ra­zak brought a microship from the in­finitely small. We will build other ma­chines identical with it and so visit the atomic universes that surge about us. He has provided us with the one science we do not fully understand—intra-atomic travel. We have already conquered in­terstellar space. Yes, it is easy! There will come a time when this world will grow old; we shall need fresh fields in which to expand our activities. Maybe the third world in this system—”

  Ithos nodded slowly, calmer now. “All that I am in agreement with, Lo­than, but there is one thing that still worries me. Did being near the opened case of Vaspus have any effect on us.? The words of Razak are still haunting me.”

  “Then dismiss them!” Lothan re­turned with supreme contempt. “Just a talkative, white-skinned fool from an­other world attempting to frighten us with so-called mind reading. There is nothing to fear!”. He rose to his feet with sudden purpose. “It is a goo
d time now to dispose of Vaspus’ body. The others are at the rest period; by the time they awake Vaspus will be in space. Once that is done I am in con­trol and can do exactly as I wish. Come!”

  He led the way swiftly from the chamber and down the darkened corridors of the great edifice. The quiet­ness of the rest period was upon every­thing—three short hours in which the scientists of Mars recovered from their scientific labors—three short hours, too, before the sun would again appear in the cloudless Martian sky.

  Without a pause, Lothan led the way into the main laboratory and, Ithos be­side him, softly closed the door. Vaspus’ body was exactly where it had been during the earlier events, still emitting its blue life-energy glow.

  Lothan nodded contentedly and went on through the laboratory to the next great hall, switched on the lights and surveyed the colossal cannon device by which space machines were catapulted into space, afterward achieving continu­ous flight by means of the enormous initial momentum provided.

  “Have the machines fetch Vaspus’ body here,” the adviser snapped. “I will prepare a projectile to receive him.”

  Ithos nodded and went swiftly off. With calm and unhurried movements Lothan operated the vast machinery, watched in silence as mechanical arms raised one of a series of two hundred small freight projectiles from the cradles by the far wall. His faceted eyes were glinting with the light of grim pleasure as he watched the tiny ovum swing in the enormous wilderness of machinery, lower gently to the floor and become still.

  Swiftly he unscrewed its air lock, un­bolted the trailer apparatus by which it was normally fastened to a passenger space machine; then he set the guiding controls. He was still checking the pro­posed route carefully on mathematical calculators as the automatons appeared and laid the glowing ruler’s body within its insulated case on the floor of the ma­chine.

  Ithos waited in expectant silence, watched as his colleague made the final adjustments to the guiding mechanism.

  “Elliptical orbit?” he asked quickly, and Lothan nodded grimly.

  “Yes, with the Sun as the approx­imate center. This projectile will stay within the confines of the solar system, but will never touch any actual body, therefore there is no chance of this life energy every affecting any world, be it living or dead. The orbit I have charted will bring this projectile back within this region, between this world and the third one, at intervals of seventy-six years or thereabouts.”

  Ithos nodded slowly and continued to watch as his determined colleague screwed up the air lock and then re­turned to his machinery. Slowly, the projectile was raised into the air again, dropped at last within the huge tunnel of the space gun. With a quick move­ment, Lothan set the automatic controls and moved rapidly toward the door.

  “The observatory,” he said quickly. “We can view what happens for our­selves. Hurry! The gun is timed to release in seventy-seven seconds.”

  At top speed, he and Lothan raced through the building, down the corri­dor that connected the laboratories with the astronomical rooms, and finally into the great observatory. Lothan slammed the door quickly behind him. Even as he did so the entire chamber, the whole vast edifice, quaked with the sudden force of a tremendous explosion. The gun had released its inconceivably powerful explosive, hurled the living-dead king of Mars into the eternal depths of space.

  Only for a moment did Lothan hesi­tate, then he moved to the semi-circular area wherein lay the floor reflector of the powerful space reflector. Impa­tiently, he operated the various controls required to its management, stood grip­ping the rail that surrounded the screen, waiting anxiously as the huge device moved and slid gently into position upon immense gimbals, finally automatically fixing itself into position and reflecting a clear area of space.

  Lothan’s breathing became labored with the strain of events. Ithos, beside him, gazed at the screen with eager eyes.

  Then, suddenly, there streaked into view a brilliant ball of bluish-white light, bearing behind in an almost de­tached fashion a long, fan-shaped streamer of misty light, as elusive as a solar corona. Immediately the reflector responded to the light waves received from the object, held it steady on its outward journey into space.

  “Is that it?” asked Ithos at length, in a puzzled voice.

  “Of course it is! The movement through space has broken up the original ship and Vaspus into vaporized, ex­tremely tepuous gas, given visibility only by the life energy which Vaspus car­ried with him. That of itself is inde­structible. The farther that thing goes into space, the longer the tail part will become, may spread out by common at­traction to a distance of millions of miles.” Lothan stopped and pondered, staring hard at the nucleus of the odd-looking object. “Already the central portion is expanding rapidly,” he went on. “As it travels it will become larger—maybe as large as this world, even more. And every seventy-six years it will return, a silent witness to our mas­ter’s endless journey. Never again will that life energy touch any world; my calculations have seen to that. But we have seen enough! Come.”

  He turned away and prepared to leave the observatory, then stopped in amazement as the door quietly opened. Within it Razak of Disep stood framed, and behind him his own people, together with a tremendous number of Martians—Umyas, the biologist, at the front. Only for an instant was Lothan at a loss. Then he strode forward grimly—only to stop again as Razak commanded him to halt.

  “You—you dare to order me!” Lo­than burst out furiously. “What are you doing here? How did you escape from the prison?”

  Once more he advanced purposefully, slowly came to a halt as his eyes met those of the little Disepian leader. Once again he read in those dark, unfathoma­ble depths a strength of will far in ex­cess of his own. He gazed stupidly, presently looked round to find Ithos, scales quivering, immediately behind him.

  Umyas pushed his way through the Martians in front of him and faced Lo­than from a respectful distance.

  “Fortunately, Lothan, I placed a good deal of faith in the observations Razak made when he first arrived here,” he said grimly. “It was I who released him and his people. We arrived at the precise moment of the firing of the space gun. You have, of course, hurled our beloved ruler into the void?”

  “What else?” the adviser sneered. “Would you prefer that we all be killed by the energy he was emanating? Razak himself advised such a move.”

  “We all know that,” Umyas retorted. “For that we bear no malice; our be­loved master has been released from a living death. What we cannot forgive is the fact that you permitted him to make the experiment knowing full well what would come of it. You did it pur­posely, in order to gain the mastery of this planet. I suspected it, but I had no proof. Thanks to Razak my suspi­cions were confirmed. A man created on a world within our ruler, who other­wise would have been unborn, has ar­rived to upset your entire scheme. It would have been better had you not dab­bled, Lothan.”

  The insolent Martian did not answer for the moment, but his face set in an expression of ugly fury.

  “It is time you understood, Umyas,. that I am the ruler of this planet and nothing can alter it!” he said.

  Umyas smiled twistedly. “It is not left to me to alter it,” he responded coldly. “Suppose you and Ithos look at yourselves!”

  Simultaneouly with the words, his hand depressed the light switch, swamped the great observatory in absolute dark. With fear crawling through their vitals, Lothan and Ithos stared down at themselves, then shouted hoarsely. They were glowing, dimly, with the first unmistakable traces of life energy!

  “You see?” Umyas asked, flicking the lights on again. “Again Razak was correct when he foretold that the open lid of the insulated case would permit fatal radiations to reach you. Gradually the incipient energy within you will grow, become a gripping paralysis, your bodies mere hulks for the living, spawn­ing universes within you.

  “Now you realize why we are keeping our distance—why Razak ordered you to halt. Had you seen yourselves in the dark before
this you would have re­alized the fate in store for you. There is only one course to adopt.” Umyas’ voice became grim. “In the interests of the planet you must follow Vaspus into space!”

  A stunned, dead silence fell mo­mentarily on the two Martians. Then Ithos screamed hoarsely.

  “No—no, not that! Umyas, I never really meant to do this! It was Lothan who—”

  “Stand exactly where you are!” Ra­zak commanded, as the two of them moved forward. “Stand perfectly still! Umyas, summon your servants to seize these two. Immediately!”

  The biologist obeyed, and only when the automatons were holding the two traitors in a grip of iron did Razak re­lax his overpowering will. He smiled faintly and enigmatically.

  “I am sorry, my friends, that my first task on this planet should be to bring to justice so traitorous a scheme, but since chance willed it I have no alternative but to obey.” He turned to the assembled Martians. “I would sug­gest immediate dispatch of these men,” he remarked, in his quiet and unassum­ing voice. “Delay will endanger all of us. Proceed at once, Umyas.”

  The biologist hesitated for the briefest fraction of a second, rather taken aback by the intellectual’s calm or­der. Then he gave the necessary orders and a clear path was made for the fight­ing, struggling pair as they were driven by the relentless automatons to the projectile room. In silence, the Martians and Disepians followed at a distance in the rear. Umyas and his immediate followers got to work on the projectiles, calculating just as Lothan had done not an hour before.

  Lothan became calmer as he watched. Such was his nature, absolute defeat re­vealed in him no trace of fear—only a proud and insolent arrogance against those who had proved cleverer than he. Ithos was different; his nerve had gone utterly. He stood muttering and pant­ing to himself in the grip, of the ma­chines, half insane with fright.