The Agent’s mind flashed back to those inhuman beings he had seen behind the barred window. He shuddered.
Guldi fixed him suddenly with a meaning smile. “How tragic,” he said, “that you can’t put the details of my process in your paper! What a story for the gaping morons to read! What a bombshell to drop into scientific circles!” The temptation to gloat and parade his ego even before an audience he despised overpowered Guldi. “Here—let me show you!” he snapped.
The mad light of megalomania was in Guldi’s eyes. At his voice two dwarfs moved away. Two others joined them. They went to a far corner of the room, disappeared through a door, came back leading a normal man.
The Agent tensed as he recognized the face of an underworld rat, Jimmy Sleezak, an ex-con out on parole, once a member of a notorious gang. Sleezak began struggling. His eyes were bright with fear. He tried to shake off the dwarfs who held him.
“You’re nuts—all of you!” he screamed. “Call off these halfwit guys. Lay off me!” He stared at Guldi, ground his teeth. “Let me out of this joint, mug, or I’ll set the gang on you. You’ll be picked up in a ditch with your face shot off.”
GULDI didn’t even answer. He walked toward a canvas-covered instrument, drew the cloth away, exposing what seemed to be a telescope. The Agent’s heart leaped, remembering Hobart’s story of Guldi climbing the lighthouse. The seeming telescope was on a roller tripod. There was an electric cable leading to it. Guldi pushed it forward till its front lens was directed at a spot twenty feet away with a blank wall behind.
He motioned for the dwarfs to stand Sleezak there. It was as though the gangster was about to have his picture taken with some fancy camera.
Shouting, protesting—but unaware of what was about to happen—Sleezak was dragged to the spot. He stood rigid, snarled: “Why the hell mug me? They got me in a hundred cop joints now.”
He closed his eyes, bent his head, thinking to frustrate an attempt to take his picture. Guldi threw a switch in the instrument’s side, said in a mocking voice:
“It’s a simple thing. I made a study of Plaget’s disease for years. In hunting for a cure I found a cause. Actinic rays break down the lime structure of the bones. A small exposure has a stunning effect. Too much kills. By repolarization I build the softened bone tissue up—when I am ready. A man who has once gone through my process can’t be affected easily again. He acquires natural immunity. My little men are safe.”
As “X” watched, fascinated by sheer horror, Guldi suddenly turned a wheel. Sleezak, in the two dwarfs’ clutch gave a fearful spluttering cry. His body jerked and writhed, though no light or ray of any kind was visible to the eyes. But an unseen force was battering at his bones: The same force “X” knew now, that had been turned from the old lighthouse down on the Lasher lawn by Guldi himself.
The green-flaming guns that the dwarfs carried then, had only been a bluff. Their own distorted bodies had become impervious to the rays. They could run directly through the sphere of action without being harmed. The guns which seemed the cause of the ghastly deaths were a colossal front, meant to terrorize and mystify the police.
Sleezak’s legs buckled under him. His spine bent. His head flopped down. He would have fallen if the dwarfs hadn’t held him upright.
At another motion from Guldi they dragged him forward, unconscious now, legs trailing, arms hanging loose. They rolled a second table contrivance out and laid Sleezak on it. Loops were snapped over his body, plates were set. Guldi himself went forward and thrust at the levers. He snapped on a reflector light overhead.
“Some of the repolarized rays can be seen,” he droned. “The bones will harden slowly in the shape I want them. The subject of the experiment will return to consciousness.”
He gave a lever a vicious jab, as Sleezak began to stir on the table. Then a fearful cry came from Sleezak’s lips. Before “X’s” eyes the man’s head began to flatten as the soft bones in his skull were crushed and spread. Guldi continued the horrible process and spoke with a touch of bitterness again.
“The material they bring me consists either of fools or criminals. But they promise me better subjects later.”
Another tortured groan issued from Sleezak’s lips. He fainted abruptly and lay still. Guldi gave the lever a vicious shove and turned away. His eyes focused on “X” with a speculative stare. Something about the Agent’s expression seemed to bring him from his megalomaniacal daze. Guldi’s lantern jaw snapped shut. The pupils of his eyes became bright as points of polished metal.
“Our little farce is ended, my friend. Now we shall see!” Slowly, horribly, like curved and trembling claws, his hands lifted to the Agent’s face. He measured the width of the eyes with thumb and forefinger, touched the Agent’s broad, high forehead, nodded.
“Much better,” he said. “At least I have a normal brain to work on. The results should be quite interesting.”
He made a commanding gesture and the dwarf-men holding “X” began to shove him forward toward the front end of the telescope-shaped machine.
Chapter XVII
TUNNEL TRAP
A SENSE of crawling horror tautened the Secret Agent’s body. He’d seen the actinic ray in action, knew exactly what it could do. All the loathsome details of Guldi’s method for making monsters out of men had been revealed to him. In a minute, two at the most, he also would be laid on a table rack, his skull beginning to bulge under the pressure of the tightening plates.
Horror gave way to cold determination. It would be better to die, better even to be torn to pieces by the dwarfs, than to submit to the invisible waves that would turn his bones to jelly. Guldi took him for a curious newspaper man who had somehow found his way into the tunnel labyrinth. He didn’t know that “X” was a man trained and pledged to the most desperate action.
But the knife blade of one of the dwarfs was still at his back. The others who seemed to have more strength even than normal men, clutched his arms with viselike fingers. They shuffled forward, obeying their master’s will. The ray had worked its awful havoc on them. They had nothing more to fear in its path of horror.
Guldi waited with a gloating face, his hand caressing the electric switch. His eyes had the inhuman fixity of a man whose brain thinks only in terms of factual science. “X” was a specimen to him, nothing more—new material to try his power on. He waved his left arm, signaling like a photographer about to take a studio snap.
“X” was taller than Sleezak. Guldi raised the ray machine’s telescope snout an inch to include every portion of the Secret Agent’s body in its destructive circle. Guldi’s finger tightened on the switch.
The Agent lashed out with both arms and dived straight forward. The dwarfs, snarling with fury, clung to his wrists, and he pulled them with him. The man with the knife made a desperate downward stroke. The blade cut through the Agent’s coat and slashed his shoulder muscle.
“X” twisted as he hit and jerked one arm free. He struck at the nearest hideous face, felt savage joy as his knuckles mashed flesh. He saw the knifeman coming and tripped him with an out-thrust leg. The man sprawled with a howl, his thin blade skittering over the cavern’s floor.
Guldi was standing rigid by the tripod of his instrument. The Agent’s movements had been too lightning-fast to register. But Guldi began cursing now. His lips made strange sounds and other dwarf-men came into the room in a savage rush. They darted toward “X.”
The Agent rose out of the path of the unseen ray, and flung himself straight at Guldi. The scientist realized his danger and snatched a small automatic from his pocket. Too excited to aim, he blasted two shots which missed the Agent. “X” grabbed the weapon from his hand.
Flinging his right arm around Guldi, pinioning his arms, he turned and pumped the trigger at the advancing horde. Three men went down under the barrage of bullets. One clutched at his belly and doubled into a plunging ball. The others pitched face down. The Agent thrust the gun against Guldi’s side and barked a quick order.
�
�Call them off—or I’ll shoot.”
Again Guldi’s mouth moved, emitting animal sounds. The frenzy of the dwarfs made them heedless for a moment. Their clawing hands were close to “X” before Guldi’s noises took effect. They backed away in a snarling, hideous circle, baring their teeth, thirsting for blood. Blood already stained the stone floor, seeping from the bodies of those whom “X” had shot.
He felt no compunction at the killing. These men were no more than savage animals now. They had been criminals to start with like Jimmy Sleezak. They had no hope, no future. They were better dead for their own good and the welfare of society.
But the smell of their comrades’ blood had made the others fierce as tigers. Unleashed by the man they knew as master they would literally tear the Agent to pieces.
“Order them back farther!” the Agent commanded. He jabbed the gun against Guldi’s side for emphasis. The dead men were proof that he was ready to shoot.
Even in Guldi’s distorted mind self-preservation was uppermost. He mouthed more guttural commands and the dwarf-men slunk away.
“Back to the wall,” said “X.” “Over there to the left.”
Guldi complied, lashing the dwarfs in the strange jargon that they seemed to understand till they stood in a huddled group to the left of the door. Then suddenly Guldi spoke, lips drawn back from his broken teeth in a humorless grin.
“You’re crazy, my friend, if you think you can run for it—utterly mad. Water blocks one end of the passage. The other’s miles away. There are exits—but you would never find them. My little men will get you before you’ve gone a hundred yards.”
The Agent answered softly, looking Guldi straight in the eye. “I won’t run—I’ll walk. And you’ll come with me as my hostage.”
A STRANGE laugh came from Guldi’s lips. He nodded slowly, said: “I see. You are resourceful, my friend—very resourceful. It seems a shame that mere bravado should triumph over brains. But I can’t sanction it!”
Guldi’s voice had become suddenly, deceptively mild. He snapped into action with a quickness that amazed the Agent. His strength was that of overwrought, abnormal nervous energy. He jerked his lean body away, ran in long-legged leaps. The Agent lifted the gun to fire, planning to cripple this man, but Guldi flung himself aside. Then abruptly he gave a fearful quavering cry. He clawed at the air with the frenzied desperation of a man gone suddenly insane. His head went back. His eyes rolled upward. He screamed with a hideous gurgle as though a clot of blood were forming in his throat.
The Agent, aghast, saw then that Guldi had stepped unknowingly into line with the lens of his telescope instrument. He saw that Guldi’s legs were bending, that his spine was growing slack. “X” leaped forward and clutched at the instrument’s switch. But he was too late. The damage was done.
Guldi’s knees buckled, losing all semblance of human limbs. They were out of joint. His head flopped sidewise. His writhing lips sent out another bubbling scream. He collapsed to the floor, a quivering mass of jelly, legs folded under him, arms beating like boneless flippers.
The Agent’s petrified gaze slid sidewise to the dwarfs. They still were huddled in the corner, faces turned toward their master. A strange animal whimpering came from their gaping mouths. Some sense of the fearfulness of Guldi’s death had penetrated to their distorted brains. They were lost for the moment without the guiding voice of the man they looked up to as a god.
Silently as a shadow, Agent “X” slipped out the door. He had his choice for a moment. He could leave this place of horror as he had come, go back along the rocky corridors to the spot where he had left his diving suit. Or he could risk destruction by going the other way, along a new line of new investigation.
Grimly he turned his face away from the water. Guldi now would never reveal the secret of who the man or men behind him were. But the finding of Guldi alive had made the Agent certain of something he had suspected.
He moved swiftly along a passage that sloped up. His light revealed a fork in this, and the Agent studied the face of a miniature compass that hung from the chain of his watch. He took the branch of the passage that led sharply to the left. He grew expectant as it continued to rise.
Rock gave way at last to sand and clay. There were indications here that this section had been worked over recently. The Agent paused abruptly as a door blocked his way. It was made of sheet metal like the one beyond the entrance to the cave. There were three huge bolts on the inside tightly shut.
The Secret Agent opened them and stepped into a continuation of the passage beyond. It sloped upward still more steeply now. He followed it, reached a flight of steps. These led up the side of a well-like shaft dug at an acute angle. The Agent climbed the stairs with his flashlight playing about him, making circles on the damp walls, thrusting higher into the impenetrable dark. He held it steady as he came to the top of the stairs, peered up at a low ceiling above his head.
Burned and blackened boards had fallen away, exposing the underside of closely cemented tiles. Traces left by terrific heat were visible everywhere. The clay itself beneath the tiles was dry and cracked.
THE Agent stood on the topmost stair and thrust upward against the ceiling. He braced his feet, bent his shoulders and heaved with all his strength till something cracked. A square section made of three tiles that heat had fused together broke away. Burned debris fell with a scrape and clatter. “X” lifted his arms to the side of the square hole and drew himself up to the floor of Guldi’s ruined laboratory.
For a moment his eyes roved the place in gleaming triumph. He had solved the secret of how Guldi had vanished from the blaze. The Agent clicked off his light, reached quickly for the slight bulge in his front coat pocket where his powerful, midget radio lay. He lifted the slender black wires that held the switch and the key, sent out a call on the wave length to which Jim Hobart would respond. Three times he tapped it off, then switched in the receiver and bent his head to listen.
Through the thin tightly stretched membrane at the radio’s top that acted as a sounding plate there came an intermittent buzz. Hobart was tapping a key in the Rock Island Inn, using the abbreviated code that “X” had worked out for him. The words came swiftly. “Boss, I’ve been waiting. I got scared when you didn’t call. Where are you now?”
The Agent ignored the question, tapped quickly again. “Call Swope’s office. Tell him you’ve located the hide-out of the rubber-corpse killers. Get him to gather all available men with tear gas, riot guns—everything they’ve got. Take him to Guldi’s burned laboratory. There’s a hole in the floor with a stairway leading down into a tunnel. Have Swope follow that.”
“X” switched in the receiver, listened for Hobart’s reply. It came in an excited burst of staccato dots and dashes. “Word’s just come that Swope’s been shot. The killers left a message pinned on him saying he’d tried to double-cross them. After they finished Swope, they kidnaped Vernon Lasher. It looks like the end of the boy and the old man, too. All hell’s popping.”
For a moment the Secret Agent stood rigid with dismay. The showdown was coming more swiftly than he had thought. Even with his guidance the police might be too late. His finger clicked the lever of the key.
“Get in touch with the G-men. Lead them to Guldi’s laboratory at once.”
The Agent switched off and plunged back down the stairway into the earth. He thought of the other passage now—the fork he had not taken. Where did it lead?
Playing his flashlight over the dank, rocky walls he raced down the slope into the tunnel of horror once more. Time was precious. G-men would speed to Guldi’s house when Hobart gave them his tip. The hideous dwarf-men would surely be rounded up. The criminals’ cunning hideout would be exposed. Yet it was possible that the extortionists themselves would escape. That the Agent himself must try to prevent.
He switched off his flash as he neared the fork. In utter darkness, groping his way, he turned left around the angle and took the other branch. He moved forward on stealthy feet, l
istening, peering. There was no light, but a sudden sound reached his ears, a strange, ghostly quaver.
SOME one was groaning in the invisible blackness ahead. The sound echoed along the rock roof above “X” in a fantastic murmur. His scalp felt cold. He clutched his light, held the gun he had taken from Guldi in the clenched fingers of his right hand.
The groans grew louder as he advanced. They sounded suddenly close beside him, magnified by the mouth of a passage that cut away to the right. It was out of this, that they came. Again the Agent had to make a quick decision. Which way should he go? Precious seconds were slipping by. The secret of the other corridor was still unsolved. But this mysterious groaning gripped his interest.
He slipped into the right-angle opening and found that the passage was short. It ended in a barred door back of which there was a chamber. The Agent risked a quick flash of his light again. It revealed a rough cell behind the door, with a human form slumped in one damp corner.
A huge padlock held the door in place. The Agent opened it easily with one of his master keys, slipped into the cell and bent over the sprawled figure. He kept his flashlight on steadily now. It revealed unshaven, sickly features that somehow had a familiar look. Yet “X,” who never forgot a human face, knew he hadn’t seen this man before.
His puzzled gaze made a close study of the features. The man was young, not more than twenty. He opened his eyes, blinked at the light and gave another groan. Neglect and starvation had wasted him away. His clothes hung loosely on a skeleton-thin body. There was sweat on his pallid face. Spots of livid color burned in his sunken cheeks. The Agent touched his skin and saw that he had a raging fever. The man’s gray-green eyes rolled upward and he mouthed hoarse, unintelligible sounds.
The Agent shook his shoulder gently. “What’s your name?”
Secret Agent X - The Complete Series Volume 5 Page 36