Captain Future 02 - Calling Captain Future (Spring 1940)

by Edmond Hamilton

  “Perhaps, since you know so much, you know the secret of how the illusions are produced?” Doctor Zarro said mockingly.

  “I THINK I do,” Curt answered coolly. “They are created by a force-field that tampers with the reflection of light A man looks like a man to my eyes because the light-rays which strike him are reflected off him according to the simple laws of reflection, and bring my eye-retinas the picture of a man. But if the light-rays striking that man are warpedly reflected from a force-field around him, as they would be from a rock instead of a man, that man will look to my eyes like a rock instead of a man.

  “That’s the secret, isn’t it? The illusion-machines worn by the Stygians which make them look like Earthmen, the machine you wear yourself to disguise yourself, the great machine here that camouflages Styx, and the one out on that ship that creates the dark star illusion, all work on that principle, don’t they? They all project a force-field which warps the reflection of light according to pre-controlled patterns, and so creates an entirely unreal illusion?”

  “Your reputation has not been exaggerated, Captain Future,” said Doctor Zarro, with a ring of genuine admiration in his voice. “You’ve fathomed the illusion secret from scanty data, correctly.”

  “One thing I would like to know,” Curt said calmly, “is how you managed to induce the Stygians to become your allies and give you their secret — if you don’t mind telling.”

  Curt was playing for time. He had heard Doctor Zarro say that the Stygians were displeased with his methods. He was hoping for a chance to appeal to the Stygian rulers against this plotter who was using their science to terrorize the System.

  Doctor Zarro laughed. “I don’t mind telling you that, since the game is in my hands now. I came to this world, drawn by old Plutonian legends of a time when a great race dwelt on one of the moons — a time when Styx was not water-covered. I penetrated the camouflage-illusion and landed here and was captured by the Stygians.

  “They treated me well enough, for they are a peaceful race who hate war and killing. I learned why they had camouflaged their world. They were afraid of the Earthmen. They had seen the pioneering, colonizing Earthmen streaming out through the System toward Pluto, and feared these newcomers would invade and conquer their ancient moon-home. So, for safety, they used their secret of illusion to make Styx look like a water-covered world, and so Earthmen never came here.

  “When I learned this, Captain Future, I saw my chance for power — a chance such as no man had ever had before. I played upon the fears of the Stygians. I told them that sooner or later the Earthmen would penetrate their camouflage and would invade Styx, and conquer them and enslave them. I told them their only chance for safety was to help me gain power over the whole System — then they, my friends, would always be safe. They were convinced by my arguments, and gave me the illusion-secret, and helped me build ships. One ship, containing a great illusion-generator, we sent out into outer space to create the dark-star image that would terrify the System. The other ships, manned by Stygians who had learned my language and who were disguised by illusion as Earthmen, formed my Legion of Doom. The Stygians built this great televisor broadcaster for me, and I —”

  Captain Future, pretending to listen closely to the boasting of Doctor Zarro, had in reality been listening for something else. Now he heard it — Stygians approaching from outside the building.

  HIS hopes bounded. If he could appeal to the Stygian rulers, make them see their folly in aiding the dark doctor —

  But Roj had heard too. The dwarf ran to the door, then came flying back, his vicious face livid.

  “That red-haired devil has kept you talking on purpose to delay!” Roj yelled to Doctor Zarro. “And now Limor is coming!”

  “The Stygian king?” Doctor Zarro was apparently instantly alarmed. “Captain Future mustn’t have a chance to speak to him. Quick, into the cases with them!”

  Curt’s hopes sank. The dwarf and the giant Kallak were already snatching up his trussed form and dumping him into one of the empty glassite cases.

  As the door of the case slammed upon him, Curt scrambled furiously to free himself of the net. It had been a little loosened by the movement and he was beginning to free himself, when there was a hissing of gas into the case as Roj turned a valve.

  Captain Future felt the pungent gas enter his nostrils — and then freezing cold gripped him and all powers of movement left him. He could not stir a muscle. He was still conscious, still able to see and hear, but he might as well have been a frozen statue.

  Otho, squirming, swearing and fighting, was tossed into a neighboring case. The android froze motionless too as the deadly gas filled his case.

  “What about this robot?” Roj cried, pointing to the great metal figure of Grag, lying bound in many metal nets. “He doesn’t breathe, so the gas won’t affect him!”

  “I think I can put him out of commission,” muttered Doctor Zarro, bending over the helpless, giant metal figure with an atom-pistol. “He must have an electrical nervous system —”

  The gun in Doctor Zarro’s hand spat a blast of atomic fire that the dark prophet aimed at the joint in Grag’s metal neck.

  The scorching blast of force penetrated the joint. Grag’s wild struggles suddenly ceased, his photo-electric eyes went dark. Curt realized that the robot’s electric nerve-wires had been cut.

  “That does for him,” panted Doctor Zarro, straightening.

  “Here’s Limor,” warned Roj.

  A tall Stygian, his leather harness encrusted with jewels, was entering the room, followed by a small retinue.

  The hollow eyes of the Stygian king, Limor, surveyed the lifeless robot and then Captain Future and Otho in their cases.

  “More prisoners?” the Stygian ruler exclaimed to Doctor Zarro, in stumbling, slurred Earth-speech. “I do not like this. It is wrong to hold all these people in that terrible living death. My people only used that secret gas for therapeutic purposes.”

  “It is necessary, Limor,” Doctor Zarro told the king earnestly. “These people would destroy my great plan if they were free. Once the plan has succeeded, once I rule the whole System as I soon shall, then all these prisoners will be released.”

  CAPTAIN FUTURE, hearing that, felt bitter disbelief. He knew well how little the plotter ever meant to free them.

  “It is not only the prisoners — you have killed two men, an Earthman and a Plutonian;” Limor said troubledly. “We are a civilized race, we Stygians, who abhor bloodshed. I am almost sorry that ever I acceded to your plan, since it has brought murder with it.”

  “The killings were an accident,” Doctor Zarro said smoothly. “There will be no more, for I hate bloodshed as much as you do. But remember, Limor, that unless my plan succeeds, there will be much bloodshed on this moon when the Earthmen invade it and conquer your people. Yes, they will destroy all of you except those they keep as slaves!”

  “I know — it must be true, since you, an Earthman yourself, say so,” admitted Limor. He sighed heavily. “The necessity compels us. But I wish that it were all done.”

  “It will be done soon. Within hours, the System peoples will acknowledge my rule,” Doctor Zarro replied eagerly. “Then, as head of the System Government, I shall be able to prevent the Earthmen from ever coming to this moon.”

  Limor and his retinue, with a last troubled glance at the frozen prisoners in the Hall of Enemies, departed.

  Doctor Zarro stepped up to the case in which Curt was imprisoned, and laughed harshly at him.

  “You were clever to stall for time, Captain Future — but not quite clever enough,” he mocked.

  Curt could make no answer, could not wink an eyelash even. He could only star stonily back.

  But his mind was seething. If he had had a chance to talk to Limor, he might have won over the Stygian king!

  “Doctor, look here!” Roj called excitedly from the televisor. “I’ve picked up a newscaster — listen!”

  In the televisor screen appeared
a Martian newscaster, shouting excited bulletins.

  “ — whole System is in a mad turmoil of panic as the dark star comes closer, for all can look up and see it now. Mobs are reported storming Government Tower on Earth, demanding that Doctor Zarro be voted full powers by the Council.

  “James Carthew, the President, has issued a last-minute plea to the System. He says: ‘I beg the people of the nine worlds not to give way to terror. Doctor Zarro cannot turn a dark star aside — no man can. I plead with the System peoples to refrain from giving away their liberty to this would-be dictator, and to rely on Captain Future, who even now is working to solve this mystery.’

  “But even the name of Captain Future can’t quiet the terror of the peoples now!” the newscaster continued.

  “Here’s a flash — Venus and Mercury have just instructed their Council members to vote full power to Doctor Zarro! Another flash — Uranus is reported to have instructed its Council members also to cast their vote for Doctor Zarro, alleging that he is the last hope of saving the System. When the Council meets in fateful session a few hours from now —”

  DOCTOR ZARRO switched off the televisor and straightened, his tall, disguised figure trembling with exultation.

  “We’ve won, Roj!” he cried. “The Council is going to yield me full power when it meets. I — I — the master of every world from Mercury to Pluto!”

  Then Curt saw the plotter get a grip on himself, and heard him address the dwarf sharply.

  “We’ll take a ship and speed out to the illusion-ship in outer space at once! Then as soon as the Council votes me power, we’ll start turning the ‘dark star’ aside a little to show the System peoples that I will be able to avert the danger.”

  “Shall we leave Kallak here to guard the Hall of Enemies?” Roj cried, glancing at Captain Future’s case.

  “There’s no need — there’s not a single way in which any of them can escape from those cases,” Doctor Zarro declared. “And the Stygians are around the building anyway. Come on!”

  Captain Future, sitting frozenly, saw the tall black prophet and his two followers hasten out of the building. A few moments later he heard the roar of a space cruiser taking off outside.

  Captain Future felt an agony of spirit. He had failed the System peoples when they needed him most. The plot of Doctor Zarro was succeeding, and he was powerless to prevent it as though he had been dead.

  For he was dead, to all purposes, he and Joan and Otho and the Brain, and even Grag. All of them, unable to move or speak or do anything at all but think, prisoned here in the inescapable living death.

  Chapter 19: In Outer Space

  HOW many hours had passed? Captain Future could not be sure. Time had become almost meaningless to him as he sat frozen here in his case.

  He knew that at least several hours had elapsed, for night had come. His field of vision took in the door, and outside it he could see a dark sky.

  He had heard a ship land outside, before night came. And he had known that it was the return of the ship which had taken Doctor Zarro and Roj and Kallak out to the “dark star.”

  Nothing else had happened. No one had come into this brightly lighted Hall of Enemies where he and Joan and Otho and the Brain sat on in dreadful stillness and silence, along with all the other frozen prisoners.

  Captain Future had been in terrible situations in the past. But never one so terrible as this. Never had he been so utterly helpless. He could not stir a muscle, could not even speak. The only thing that he could do was think. And his thoughts were torture!

  Curt could picture James Carthew, the President, frantically trying to delay that fatal vote that would set up a dictatorship in the System. He knew that Carthew would be wondering wildly why Captain Future had failed him.

  He would not fail the President! The old indomitable resolution that had brought him through a thousand ordeals rose in Captain Future’s soul. He made a terrific mental effort to force his frozen body to stir, to shake off the drugging influence of the freezing gas that filled his case.

  The effort was useless. His body, gripped by cold paralysis of the freezing gas, could not obey his mind. There was absolutely no way in which he could move while be sat in this ghastly, indestructible, gas-filled case.

  Fiercely, he fought back despair. There must be some way out of this hideous captivity. But what?

  He could think of nothing. He and the Futuremen and Joan and all the others were helpless as though in their graves.

  Captain Future became suddenly aware of movement at the door, of some small thing peeping hesitantly into this room.

  A sharp, inquisitive little snout poked around the edge of the door, and two bright, fearful eyes peered in.

  It was Eek, the moon-pup!

  Curt had not thought of the little pet of Grag since their capture, when the moon-pup had frightenedly escaped. Now he realized that Eek had trailed them through the city to this room.

  Shivering with fright, Eek peered until his bright black eyes rested on Grag’s prone, motionless metal form. Then the little gray beast scampered gladly toward the lifeless robot.

  It nuzzled Grag’s head, seeking to arouse him. And when the robot did not stir, Eek pawed his metal face distressedly.

  And Captain Future, watching, saw the thousand-to-one chance of escape for which he had been praying!

  Fantastic, impossible — yes! But still the only slender chance left of getting out of this terrible captivity.

  Curt concentrated all his mind on one strong thought, a thought projected at the moon-pup.

  “Eek, come to me!” he ordered telepathically. “Come to me!”

  HE KNEW that the moon-pup’s method of communication was by telepathy — Grag talked to his pet in that way, and Curt had sometimes given the little beast telepathic orders.

  Could he do that now? Could he get Eek to do the thing that would give them a fighting chance for freedom? “Eek, come toward me at once!” he thought fiercely.

  The gray moon-pup stopped its dismayed pawing of Grag’s face and looked up sharply. It turned its eyes toward Curt.

  It had got his thought, Captain Future exulted! He repeated that thought-command with redoubled force. “Come toward me, Eek!”

  Slowly, doubtfully, the moon-pup started toward the glassite case in which Curt sat imprisoned. The little animal stopped in front of the case and looked up at Curt puzzledly.

  “Eek, you must chew out a piece of the glassite at the bottom of this case!” Curt thought. “It is very good to eat — it contains much precious metals such as you love.”

  Eek’s whole appearance brightened as he got that thought. Temporarily forgetting its dismay over its lifeless master, the moon-pup approached the bottom of the glassite case.

  It nosed a corner of the glassite, as though sniffing it with its own strange senses. Then it looked doubtful.

  “It is very good to eat,” Curt repeated his telepathic blandishments. “It contains much metal.” he lied.

  Persuaded by Captain Future’s telepathic assurance. Eek fastened his jaws on the glassite corner of the case. His chisel-like teeth bit into the glassite as easily as into metal or rock.

  Eek had almost bitten through the glassite — but not quite. The moon-pup chewed the bite and then looked up at Curt with visible indignation.

  Eek seemed almost to be saying: “You told me that stuff was good but it has no flavor at all”.

  “It is better further in — it is rich in silver that you love. Eek.”Curt thought urgently. “One more bite!”

  Doubtfully, as though persuaded against his better judgment. Eek took another bite of the glassite. He chewed it, then looked up with an injured, crestfallen expression as he found it no more flavorsome than his first sample.

  But the moon-pup had bitten through the glassite this time! And Curt could hear the heavy freezing gas in his case hissing, leaking away.

  Swiftly as the gas poured out, powers of movement came back to Captain Future. The blessedness of
being able to move again, he thought, as he tried to stagger up.

  He found himself still tangled in the hunting-net that had been used to capture him. It took minutes to wriggle free of it. Then, Captain Future burst open the glassite door of his case with a heave.

  He sprang out onto the floor, his heart pounding. He dashed to the case in which Otho sat frozen, and tore the door open. As the freezing gas rushed out and dispersed, the rubbery android came back to life. Curt freed him of the net that held him.

  “Devils of space. I thought I was going to sit like that forever!” swore Otho wildly. “I’ll kill that cursed Doctor by torture for doing that to us!”

  CURT was freeing Joan Randall. The girl staggered, weeping, as she revived and left her glassite prison.

  “Curt, I knew you would get us out somehow!” she sobbed. “I couldn’t see how anyone could, but I knew you would.”

  “Steady, Joan,” the big red-haired young adventurer told her urgently. “Help Otho release all those other prisoners while I see to Simon and Grag.”

  Curt bent over the Brain first. Simon’s speech-apparatus had been disconnected — a moment’s work set that aright.

  “Good work, Lad,” rasped the Brain then. “But I fear it’s too late, maybe.”

  “Not too late if we can get to the Comet,” rapped Captain Future. “But Grag has been disabled —”

  He tore away the nets around the robot and examined him. Then Curt rapidly removed two of the metal plates of Grag’s neck, exposing the robot’s electrical nerves.

  Three of Grag’s vital nerve-wires had been severed. Curt worked tensely with tools from his belt, resplicing those wires and then replacing the neck-plates.

  Grag’s photo-electric eyes shone with revived life, and the great robot stirred and rose clankingly to his feet, none the worse for his experience.