Captain Future 05 - Captain Future and the Seven Space Stones (Winter 1941)

by Edmond Hamilton

  He stopped pondering. Rok Olor’s thin voice and the drawl of Ezra Gurney recalled him to his surroundings.

  “Sure, you were far and away the best space fighter the Patrol ever had,” the old pirate was telling Ezra. “You whipped that Uranian bandit, Ju Jimos, in fair space fight, and the ‘Falcon,’ the greatest pirate of all. Nobody but you two saw that fight, but I sure wish I had.”

  Ezra’s faded eyes went bleak and strange for a moment, as the veteran looked far back into the memory of crowded years.

  “Yes, the Falcon was the greatest space fighter of all,” he whispered. “God rest his soul.”

  Rok Olor looked puzzled. But Captain Future understood the sudden tenderness in the old crime hunter’s voice. Only to Curt did Ezra ever reveal the fact that the Falcon had been his young brother.

  “We’ve got to be going, Rok Olor,” Curt said quietly.

  The old pirate nodded calmly.

  “Want to search me for atom guns before you take me in, Ezra?”

  Ezra looked dismayed. All the eagerness with which he had looked forward to arresting Rok Olor seemed to have evaporated.

  “Listen, Future,” Ezra said. “After all, Rok is a pretty old man now. He hasn’t been a pirate for years.”

  Curt saw what was coming, but refrained from smiling. “I know,” he said solemnly. “What about it?”

  Ezra squirmed. “Well, yuh said yuh was goin’ to see he got mercy from the court for giving you the space stone, didn’t you? They’ll just let him off anyway, so why bother takin’ him in?”

  “What, leave him here?” Curt asked in mock horror. “But I thought you were keen on arresting your old enemy!”

  “Cap’n Future, when yuh get old as me, and meet a feller yuh fought against in the old days when yuh was young, and talk it over with him, yuh don’t want to arrest him. You — you’re sort of glad to see him, in fact. Let’s leave Rok alone, huh?”

  Curt grinned. “You sentimental old fraud! All right. That goes, Rok Olor. You’ve helped me considerably with this space stone. As far as we’re concerned, you’re still just Xex Iza, an ex-planter.”

  Tears glistened in Rok Olor’s eyes, but his voice was steady.

  “Thanks, both of you. Good-by, Ezra.”

  “Good-by, Rok, you old devil,” grinned the Police veteran.

  They gripped hands.

  Chapter 12: Grag Gets Orders

  AGAIN in the Comet, clear of Deimos and rushing back toward the big red parent planet in the sky, Curt turned the controls over to Ezra Gurney.

  “I have a few things to ask this girl of Quorn’s,” he explained.

  Curt pressed and massaged the temples of the unconscious Martian girl, using his skillful Venusian therapy, till she awoke.

  “N’rala, I won’t waste time,” he said crisply, “Quorn has four space stones. He has them hidden somewhere in that Rissman space cruiser of his. Where are they?”

  “Do you really expect me to tell?” she retorted mockingly.

  “You might as well,” Curt stated. “You’ll tell eventually, anyhow.”

  N’rala’s mood seemed to change. She looked up at him with curious, speculative admiration in her dark eyes.

  “You are not the kind of man to threaten a girl, Captain Future,” she murmured. “Especially a girl like me.” She moved closer to him. The subtle, alien perfume of her midnight hair reached him. Her eyes had a soft, almost eager glow. “You are a strong man, Future — perhaps even stronger than Ul Quorn. I like men who blaze a great trail across the worlds. I could like you.”

  “And your friend Quorn?” Curt Newton reminded her.

  She shrugged indolently, smiling up at him.

  “Ul Quorn wearies me. But no woman would ever grow weary of you.”

  Curt laughed. “It’s a swell act you’re putting on, N’rala, but you might as well save it. I’m not falling for it.” She recoiled furiously from him.

  “You’re not human! You’re cold as the robots who reared you! Or else it’s that Earth girl agent —”

  “Never mind her,” Curt snapped. “Where are Quorn’s space stones hidden in his cruiser?”

  “You’ll never learn from me.”

  “No?” he asked softly. “I think I will. Look at this —!”

  Suddenly he grasped her head, and held up the ring he wore — Captain Future’s famous emblem-ring, the nine planet-jewels revolving around the glowing sun-jewel. The planet-jewels began spinning and reversing in a bewildering way as Curt held it in front of N’rala’s eyes. He was using the ring as a hypnosis-inducer, as he had used it many times before.

  N’rala tried to turn her head aside, but Curt held her so firmly that she had to look at the flashing jewels. Presently her struggle ceased and a dull, hypnotized glaze came over her eyes.

  “You will answer any question I ask,” Curt stated.

  “I will answer,” she said in a mechanical voice.

  “Where does Quorn keep the four space stones hidden in his ship?”

  “They are in the Rissman’s Number One cyclotron.”

  “They’d be annihilated in the cyclotron!” Curt exclaimed.

  “The space stones are in a small tube that is proof against the raging atomic force inside the cyclotron.”

  “Damned clever,” Captain Future admitted with grudging admiration. “All right, you will awake now.”

  N’rala came back to control of her own mind and instantly realized what had happened.

  “You hypnotized me, you redheaded devil!”

  SHE began to beat at Curt’s face with her small fists in raging, untamed fury. Hastily Curt tied her into a space chair.

  “Whew, I don’t envy Quorn his life with you!” he panted.

  “He’ll see that you don’t live long, Future!” she cried murderously. “You’ll find you’ve met your match this time!”

  Ignoring her, Curt went back to the control room. Ezra was bringing the Comet down into the moonlit desert outside Korak.

  “Here’s the place — and there’s Joan waitin’,” Ezra called out.

  Joan Randall came running toward Curt as he emerged from the little ship.

  “I saw Otho, and he said he’d put on an uproar they’d never forget when it was time for his act tonight,” she reported.

  “Good, but it’s almost time now for the circus to start,” Curt said. “I’m going to be there and get into Quorn’s ship when Otho stages his riot. I know where the four space stones are now. You and Ezra wait here, and keep N’rala quiet.”

  Running across the moonlit plain, Captain Future made his way around the outskirts of Korak. He reached the spot near the spaceport where the lights of the Interplanetary Circus glowed. Brassy music told him the big show had started. He slipped shadowlike between parked ships toward Quorn’s streamlined Rissman cruiser. Its door was open. But as he had expected, two of Quorn’s freaks — the Plutonian dwarfs — stood on guard. There was no sign of Quorn. Curt guessed he was at his pavilion.

  “Can’t use my invisibility process to get in, with those two freaks right in the door,” he muttered. “Hope Otho makes enough uproar to draw them away.”

  Captain Future waited in the shadow of a Cruh-Cholo freighter. An hour passed. Then from the main circus pavilion came a terrific clamor.

  The two freaks guarding the Rissman were startled. They edged toward the circus to listen. Curt slipped at once inside the Rissman.

  “Keep it up, Otho,” he whispered prayerfully. “You’re doing fine.”

  He went to the cyclotron room of the cruiser, and soon was dissassembling the big, squat Number One cyclotron. A curious sighing sound drifted almost unnoticed to his keen ears. Abruptly something struck the back of Captain Future’s head, and he felt blackness swallow him.

  GRAG had felt worried and baffled ever since the circus had reached Mars. During the voyage from Venus, the disguised robot and the Brain had surreptitiously searched Quorn’s cruiser for the four space stones, but had not found them. They ha
d not dared press the search too far, lest the mixed-breed discover that two of his freaks were actually Curt Newton’s Futuremen.

  With the circus set up in Korak and due to begin its first performance soon, Grag was with Quorn’s other freaks in the show pavilion that was the scene of their performance. To the eyes of the other freaks nearby, it looked merely as though the Strong Man of Space were tinkering with his Thinking Machine. Actually Grag was whispering to the Brain inside the cylinder.

  “The space stones can’t be in Quorn’s ship, Simon. We’d have found them if they were.”

  “Curtis said they must be there, and I believe him,” answered the Brain.

  “Careful, here comes that cursed Hearer,” Grag warned.

  The Hearer, always distinguishable by his enormous cuplike ears, glared suspiciously. But he went on, to speak to the Moon Wolf and the Chameleon Man. Grag dared not do any more talking to Simon with the Hearer in the neighborhood. He lounged until Ul Quorn himself appeared. The mixed-breed’s handsome face held an expression of worry as he looked sharply around the pavilion.

  “Where’s N’rala?” he demanded. “Isn’t she here?”

  “I haven’t seen nor heard her,” the Hearer replied.

  “Strange,” Quorn muttered. “She wouldn’t leave without explanation, unless she got on the trail of something.”

  Quorn beckoned the Hearer and the Chameleon Man. He spoke to them in a whisper, but Grag’s microphone ears picked up the words.

  “Estate on south Deimos — Name of Xex Iza — Get the space stone from him — Return by show-time —”

  Grag saw the Hearer and the Chameleon Man slip away to the parked circus ships. Then he saw a four-man, fast Kalber flier take off, zooming up with a thunderous burst of rockets toward the swift, small moon.

  “What are we to do, Simon?” Grag whispered anxiously. “Quorn’s sent them to Deimos for a space stone.”

  “Look out, here comes Quorn now,” cautioned the Brain.

  The mixed-breed approached. For a moment, he eyed Grag peculiarly. Grag, his mighty metal body perfectly disguised by the pink artificial flesh that covered it, got to his feet.

  “Hello, Boss,” he rumbled. “How’s my act going in the show?”

  “Pretty well,” Quorn said. “But I have a more important job for you. Do you know the Ultra-acrobat?”

  “That crazy Ganymedean who does such daffy stunts in the main circus show?” Grag boomed disdainfully. “Sure, I’ve seen him around.”

  “He’s no Ganymedean,” Quorn said emphatically. “He’s an enemy of mine, in disguise. I want to get rid of him tonight, and I want to get rid of Kovo, the swamp man tiger tamer.”

  “That’s easy, Boss. I’ll go right now and find ‘em both and break ‘em in half.”

  “No, you blockhead!” Ul Quorn said angrily. “Nothing as crude as that. It would be traced right back to me. It must look like an accident.”

  Grag pretended perplexity.

  “How do you mean, Boss? I’m not good at tricks and stuff like that. I just break ‘em in half.”

  “Listen carefully,” Quorn ordered. “Tonight, the Ultra-acrobat repeats that leap from the top of the pavilion to catch a rope ten feet from the ground. You are to stand against the center mast of the pavilion. Just as the Ultra-acrobat leaps, you push the mast a little, without letting it be noticed. It’ll bring the rope a little out of line. The Acrobat will miss it and be killed.”

  “I can do that easy, Boss,” Grag boasted. “What about Kovo?”

  “Kovo carries an instrument in his right pocket that controls those marsh tigers. Just as he is entering their cage, you bump against him. Squeeze that instrument without his noticing it. The marsh tigers will finish him.”

  “Consider it done, Boss,” Grag assured loudly. “Only I’d rather break ‘em in half. It’s more fun.”

  WHEN Quorn turned away, Grag muttered anxiously to the Brain.

  “Simon, Quorn’s planning to blast out Master and Otho tonight. What shall I do?”

  “Get to Otho and Curtis and tell them!” the Brain directed. “But be careful Quorn doesn’t see you. Wait till after our show.”

  At that moment, the barker outside Quorn’s freak-show was beginning his familiar spiel.

  “The Congress of Nine World Wonders, folks! The Magician of Mars and his mysterious feats! The Strong Man of Space!”

  Grag broke his steelite bars and lifted his enormous weights without giving heed to the amazement and applause of his Martian audience. The big robot’s mind was a fever of anxiety and alarm. As the so-called Thinking Machine started its jerky replies to questions, Grag moved out of the pavilion. He stopped in the shadow outside as he saw the Hearer and the Chameleon Man with Quorn.

  “I tell you, Future has been there and got Xex Iza’s space stone,” the Hearer was repeating. “The description fitted Future perfectly. We secretly searched Xex Iza’s house without finding the stone.”

  “That devil!” muttered Quorn. “How in the name of all the planetary hells did he learn about the space stone on Deimos? Anyway, he and that damned android of his are going to be killed tonight by the Strong Man. We’ll get the space stone from Future’s body.”

  “That’s what you think,” Grag whispered.

  It was almost show-time for the big performance. The band began playing. The audience of festive Martians was pouring in, and the performers were hastening to their dressing pavilions. Grag found Otho.

  “Where’s Master?” he demanded.

  “The chief’s rocketed for Deimos,” Otho replied. “Joan told me.”

  “I know he went there and got a space stone, but he should be back by now,” Grag declared.

  “He’s around somewhere,” Otho said confidently. “He sent me a message to create a rumpus when I put on my act. That means he wants to draw attention to the show, for some reason.”

  “By the way,” Grag said casually, “I’m supposed to kill you tonight.”

  “What the devil do you mean?” howled Otho.

  Grag uttered a booming chuckle.

  “Don’t get worried. Much as I’d like to do it, I won’t. Here’s the situation.”

  He went on to tell Otho of Ul Quorn’s orders. The android’s green eyes flashed.

  “That checks swell with what I want to do — create an uproar! Listen, Grag. You pretend to follow Quorn’s orders and displace that rope. I’ll pretend almost to miss it, and I’ll accuse you of doing it deliberately. We’ll stage a fake fight that’ll create a real uproar.”

  “All right,” Grag agreed. “We’ll put on a fuss that’ll have the place in a riot.”

  Band music was already blaring as the “Pageant of the Planets” opened the show in the main pavilion. Otho skipped away, and Grag entered the big pavilion. He leaned negligently against the main steelite mast of the pavilion, apparently watching the show.

  “The Ultra-acrobat from Ganymede, greatest acrobat in circus history!” announced Jur Nugat. “He works entirely without safety nets!”

  Chapter 13: Funeral in Space

  OTHO ran into the spotlight, bowed, and then swarmed up to the highest trapeze platform. He poised there for his terrific dive to the swinging rope, which always stunned the audiences. Grag leaned his huge weight hard against the big mast, just as Otho dived.

  A cry of horror went up from the audience as the rope Otho was diving for swung out of line. He made what looked like a superhuman effort. Actually the disguised android had cunningly calculated it in advance. He barely managed to seize the swinging rope. A roar of voices from the audience told of their relief at the Ultra-acrobat’s escape. Jur Nugat ran forward in alarm.

  “Gods of Saturn, you nearly missed the rope!” he bleated.

  “It was the Strong Man’s fault!” Otho accused furiously, pointing at Grag. “He pushed the mast and rope out of line purposely!”

  “You’re crazy,” Grag retorted loudly. “You say that again and I’ll boot you clear out of this pavilion.” />
  “You’ll what?” Otho shrieked. “Why, you thick-headed, weak-minded excuse for an Earthman, I’ll tie you into knots!”

  The android leaped in at Grag and struck him a furious blow in the face. He pulled his punch, but Grag pretended to stagger.

  “I’ll kill him for that!” Grag roared. “Let me at him. I’ll break him in half!”

  He lunged heavily at Otho, but the android skipped nimbly aside. Snatching up a pavilion stake, he belabored Grag with it. The blows seemed heavy ones, but they were so shrewdly calculated by Otho that Grag scarcely felt them. But to the audience, it seemed that Otho was really trying to kill the Strong Man.

  “Stand still and fight like a man!” Grag yelled, his huge hands grabbing vainly for the android. “When I get you, I’ll break you in half!”

  “Catch me first, you big lummox!” taunted Otho.

  He brought the stake down on Grag’s head again in what seemed to all onlookers a killing blow.

  “Separate them before they kill each other!” Jur Nugat was yelling wildly to his men.

  The whole great pavilion was in a wild uproar. Under his breath, as they fought, Grag muttered.

  “You’re doing swell, Otho. Better let me catch you now.”

  “All right, you grab me and I’ll pretend you’re murdering me,” Otho whispered.

  Grag swiftly noticed that the battle had brought Ul Quorn and the Hearer to the main pavilion. That encouraged him. He and Otho wrestled and scrapped between masts, stages and cages. Jur Nugat’s men leaped in to separate them, but Grag’s mighty arm knocked them back. Roaring, he continued to pursue Otho.

  “The Strong Man’s gone crazy!” a man shouted. “Keep out of his way!”

  Otho purposely skipped in a little too close, and Grag succeeded in grasping his arm.

  “Here’s where I break him in half!” bellowed the disguised robot.

  “Help, the Strong Man’s killing me!” Otho yelled. As he pretended to struggle with Grag, Otho glanced quickly under his opponent’s mighty arm. He saw that N’rala, the Martian girl, had suddenly appeared at the edge of the crowd and was speaking excitedly to Ul Quorn. At once Quorn and the Hearer hastily left with the girl.