by Alex Raymond
Nevertheless, because she liked that blond-haired giant from another world, she hesitated before turning the switch. When she did, she immediately banished all remorse, and settled down in a protean pouf to watch the action.
What she saw immediately was the interior of the quarters she had assigned to Colonel Flash Gordon and Colonel Doctor Hans Zarkov. She had bestowed the title “Colonel” on Zarkov to make him equal in rank with his companion. It was the privilege only of women in Ildhaven to have military titles, but she had bowed to the Aliens because Flash did have the title in his own right on the planet Orth. Or was it Urth?
Zarkov and Flash were preparing for bed. She saw Flash standing over the metal wash basin, laving his head and hands. Zarkov was unlacing his boots. The quarters were not sumptuous, but quite utilitarian, with two bunks, closets, and bureaus spaced about the steel-lined cubicle. All the rooms in the palace were steel-lined to prevent destruction by an errant bomb that in spite of every safety precaution might penetrate the vanadium shields above.
Finally Flash turned to Zarkov with a lopsided grin.
“Boy, did you get a load of that food we had tonight?”
“Food!” Zarkov echoed. “You mean those cubes of vitamins?”
“What do you expect from a planet that doesn’t even grow anything to eat?” grunted Flash.
“I was ready for steak and potatoes, and from the way the Queen described the food, I thought it was going to be a treat!”
“General, my dear Colonel Doctor Zarkov,” Flash corrected him. “Not Queen.”
“Sorry,” chuckled Zarkov. “I keep thinking of her as a woman.”
“So do I,” Flash admitted, wiping his face with a towel.
General Ild leaned back with a satisfied smile. That was what she liked to hear. Compliments! And, coming from the very attractive Flash Gordon, it was most welcome.
“Well, I ate my pill and pretended to be happy with it,” Zarkov said.
General Ild frowned. The Aliens did not like the food she had given them. It was the very best available on Errans. They should see what the progs ate! Reconstituted seawater! Of course the cybbies did not need sustenance—only fuel.
“Me, too,” said Flash.
Zarkov stripped to the waist and crawled into one of the beds, lying there with his hands laced behind his head.
“I never thought I’d see a people like these, Flash. I mean, they love war so much they spend their lives at it. Well, I suppose Hitler and his mob could be said to have loved war, too, but look what happened to them.”
“She doesn’t remind me of Hitler,” Flash observed.
General Ild leaned forward. Who was this Hitler person? Obviously someone on Orth who had pursued a war that was not entirely successful. She wondered what this woman looked like. Was she as beautiful as General Ild?
“You’ve got a good thing going there, Flash, and I wouldn’t scrape it under the rug if I were you,” Zarkov murmured.
“Oh, come on, now, Doc! What about Dale? I can’t just move in and—”
“Old man,” grinned Zarkov, “who will ever know? That is one beautiful kid, Flash.”
“I wouldn’t betray Dale,” said Flash slowly, taking his shirt off.
General Ild frowned. Then she understood. “Dale” must be Colonel Gordon’s fiancée on Orth.
“Besides, I love Dale, and I’ve only just met General Ild.”
Zarkov grinned. “Well, she’s coming on pretty strong, so don’t make any rash decisions, my boy.”
Flash shook his head. “Forget it, Doc. That’s out.”
General Ild clenched her fists. So she was out, was she? She’d see about that! There were ways to persuade Colonel Flash Gordon to comply with her wishes. Many ways!
Flash lay in his bed.
Zarkov yawned. “My theory is that these Oranges are just an aggressive race that loves war and won’t give it up. Imagine a people that builds robots to do all its work, and then puts the robots to work building other robots to fight their wars.”
“It’s a wonder the machines don’t turn on them and stop the war.”
“They can’t. You forget they’re programmed by the human beings who built them. I mean, of course, the cybernauts. The technoids, the tool robots, are a second generation and also can be controlled.”
“What are you thinking about, Doc?”
Zarkov shook his head. “I’m just talking off the top of my head. Boy, these Oranges have to be the most aggressive people I’ve ever seen, fighting for centuries without even remembering why.”
“Like those old backwoods feuds in the Kentucky hills. The Hatfields and the McCoys.”
“Yeah. I’d guess these people were the aggressors,” Zarkov observed. “It’s surprising they haven’t prevailed. The other side must be pretty tough to outlast them. But then, Churchill outlasted Germany.”
“Right. And he didn’t get into it until it had gone on for quite a while.”
General Ild frowned. What were these two Aliens talking about? Aggressors? What did the bearded one think the Greens were? And what was the difference? War was a constant thing. Who cared when it had started? Who was the first human being? Man or woman?
“I’ll bet their enemies, the Greens, are a lot more civil,” Flash mused.
“They certainly couldn’t be more uncivil.”
“If we’re going to get off this planet, we’ve got to find some way to get over to the other side.”
Zarkov nodded. “Right. But it isn’t going to be easy.”
“No. It’s going to be one of the most difficult things we’ve ever done. We don’t even have a missile to get off this rockpile!”
Zarkov sighed. “I get nightmares just thinking about it. We’d better get some sleep, Flash. It’s going to be another long hard day—and at the end of it, a plate of vitamin pills!”
General Ild stood and glowered in fury at the vidscreen.
“So!” she said to herself. “You don’t like it here in the palace. You don’t like our hospitality. You wish you were with the Greens.”
She turned and stared into space. Both Zarkov and Flash had closed their eyes and were dropping off to sleep.
General Ild folded her arms across her breast and tapped her foot irritably. “I should have known better than ever to trust a man.”
She paced back and forth.
“Very well, if they want to go over to the Greens, I can send them there. And use them for my own purposes!”
General Ild paused a moment, switched off the vidscreen, and moved into another room. There were computer banks along one wall, and a series of control panels. Bright vidscreens lined the wall above the console. Two cybernauts were seated in chairs in front of the screens. Their heads swiveled and their lights blinked.
“Good evening General Ild,” the metallic voice of the first cyb said in its monotonous singsong.
This was Cyb Number Two, head of Military Intelligence. General Ild could see the name plate on the cyb’s chest—or, rather, where a human chest would be.
Beside Number Two sat an assistant, Cyb Number Twelve—high in the hierarchy, but not of the top six.
“Good evening Cybs Two and Twelve,” said General Ild with a smile. “How are we coming tonight?”
“The latest readout states that we have managed to land three agents in amongst the Green outposts. However, one was immediately caught by a new superscan device the Greens have developed. But the other two are now moving into the interior of the region.”
General Ild nodded. “And our Counter-Intelligence Units?”
“Nothing, General Ild.”
“Thank you, Cyb Two.” The General did not move out of the Intelligence Room.
“May I be of further assistance, General Ild?” the cyb asked.
She was unnerved at the fact that the cybernaut’s head was turned around at 180 degrees so that it was actually looking out of the back of the body at her. But then, the cybbies could do tricks the average person couldn
’t.
“I would like to speak with you in private, Cyb Two.”
Cybernaut Two blinked and responded. “I will come with you. Number Twelve, you will take over the total scan.”
“Yes, Number Two,” said the metallic voice of the other cyb.
Cyb Two followed General Ild into a small chamber oft the Intelligence Room.
The girl reclined on a nearby chair. The cybby stood at attention.
“I await your commands, General Ild,” the cybernaut said again.
“I have an idea to propose to you,” General Ild began slowly.
“I am programmed to hear it, General Ild.”
“The Aliens from space may be useful to us in gathering intelligence data, Cyb Two.”
“Yes, General Ild.”
“I am not trying to interfere with your conduct of the war, you understand, but it had occurred to me that the two Aliens might be dispatched to the enemy to destroy their nerve centers.”
“Affirmative, General Ild. Such an act is a possibility.”
“How could we get the two Aliens on the other side? Is there a way? That is why I have come to you.”
“I will consult my reasoning centers. Yes, General Ild. There is a way.”
“And when will they go?” asked General Ild. “I’d like to make it as soon as possible.”
“Tomorrow, General Ild.”
“Thank you, Cyb Two. Have you any questions?” General Ild asked negligently.
“Are the Aliens expendable, General Ild?” the cyb asked in its singsong voice.
“Yes,” said General Ild grimly.
“The mission will be programmed completely by morning,” said the cyb. “Have the Aliens ready.”
“I shall,” said General Ild with a faint, vindictive smile.
Cybernaut Number Two stalked out of the chamber and the steel door banged behind it.
General Ild stared into the distance and pouted.
“I am disappointed in you, Colonel Gordon,” she said aloud. “We could have had such a good life together. War. And love. And all the comforts of home.”
She waved her hand in the air.
“Pah! Men!”
CHAPTER 11
A raucous klaxon that shook the walls aroused Flash and Zarkov in the morning—or what would pass for morning on Errans—and they rolled out in true military fashion, dressing quickly and flipping the bedclothes back into place.
There was a sharp rap on the door.
“Come in,” Zarkov called.
The door opened and General Ild stared in at them. “Good morning, Colonels. I trust you slept well?”
Flash nodded. “Very well, indeed.”
General Ild smiled crookedly. “You will have breakfast shortly, and then you will come with me for a tour of the palace.”
“Thank you,” said Zarkov.
General Ild turned to go, and then stopped. “Actually, I have an assignment for you, about which I shall tell you later.”
“Assignment?” Flash repeated.
“Yes. After all, you are officers in the Orange Army.”
Flash nodded.
“Eat well,” said Genedal Ild.
“Thanks,” said Zarkov dryly.
General Ild closed the door and was gone.
They dawdled over their breakfast of vitamin cubes as long as they could, and finally chewed them up without comment. Then they sat there and looked at each other.
“That food’ll never make me a champion,” said Zarkov, pointing at the empty plate.
“Nor me,” said Flash.
“I wonder what General Ild has in mind for us today?” Zarkov pondered.
“Colonels Gordon and Zarkov, report immediately to the palace muster room,” the wall speaker bellowed. “Colonels Zarkov and Gordon!”
“That’s us,” said Flash, rising from the bleak dining table.
They hurried down the hall, following the signs printed on the walls.
The Mustering Room was deserted when they got there. It was a large, well-lighted, and well-ventilated room, with a large vidscreen forming one wall. On the vidscreen a battle was going on, obviously piped in from the battle zone where it was being fought.
They watched the action for several minutes, and then tired of it.
“I’d almost settle for a documentary on Ancient Mongolia,” said Flash with a sigh.
“Right on,” said Zarkov. “Wonder when the other officers will be joining us?”
Flash shrugged.
Then General Ild was there, bustling in, waving a riding crop which she slapped against her thigh occasionally. Flash thought of pictures he had seen of General Patton, and wondered if General Ild had seen them too. Obviously not. The military mind simply knew no boundaries—or planets.
“We go to see the Giant War Computer, Colonels,” said General Ild with a slap at her thigh. “Come!”
Flash and Zarkov followed. As they moved quickly along behind her. Flash whispered:
“All business today. None of this hanky-panky like yesterday.”
“She seems to have lost the romantic bloom she had yesterday,” Zarkov responded.
They wound down several levels of stairs and continued along another deserted corridor until they came to a door labeled:
WAR COMPUTER
AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY
General Ild flipped an orange I.D. disk from her blouse, fitted it into a slot in the wall next to the steel door, and pushed a button. There was a short pause, and then the door slowly opened.
The three of them entered and the door slammed shut behind them.
They were in an enormous underground cavern almost three stories deep from ceiling to floor. At the entrance, there was a kind of balcony overlooking the large area, with steps leading down from it into the middle of the room.
Most of the space was taken up by a large computer bank that must have had at least six dozen computers linked together into one huge brain. There was absolutely no human being in sight.
“This, Colonels, is our War Computer. It is the mechanical brain that fights the war for us.”
Zarkov nodded. “Where are the operators?”
General Ild turned to Zarkov with an eyebrow quirked. “The computers are operated by remote control, from Cybby Headquarters.”
“The cybernauts run the machine?”
“Certainly. But, of course, they were programmed to do so by my ancestors,” said General Ild.
“You have no control over them?” Flash asked.
“Oh, yes. The cybernauts fight better than we can now. They’ve been at it for many years.”
“Then if this computer fights the war, General Ild, what is the need for officers in the army like Dr. Zarkov and myself?” Flash asked.
General Ild smiled. “My dear Colonels, that is what we are here today to talk about. This brain here is the heart and soul of Ildhaven’s War Machine. It is our defense and our offense all rolled into one.”
“I understand,” said Zarkov.
“Pitted against this brain is another brain almost exactly like it. That is the War Computer of the Greens. Their War Computer is our immediate target.”
“Figures,” said Zarkov judiciously. “Just get in there and destroy that, and you’ve won the war.”
“Exactly,” General Ild said with a happy look at Zarkov. “Now you’re beginning to think like an officer.”
“Why hasn’t infiltration been tried before?” Flash asked.
“It has been buried, by the cybbies. But the cybbies on the other side caught on immediately. Even technoids were tried. A hundred of them were crisped before the Cybby War Council gave it up.”
“How about one of the progs?”
“We’ve never had any human being who would volunteer for the mission,” said General Ild softly.
Zarkov looked at Flash.
“I see,” said Zarkov, trying to contain his elation. “You’re going to—”
“—send you to destroy the Green War
Computer.”
Flash broke into a smile. “It’s a dangerous mission, General Ild,” he said slowly. “But, since you put it that way—”
“Oh, you’ll go,” General Ild interrupted shortly. “I’ve already told Cybernaut Number One.”
“Exactly how do we do this dangerous assignment?” Flash asked.
“That will be explained to you in due time, Colonel Gordon,” said General Ild with a regal gesture of her hand.
“Anything we can do to help,” said Flash. He glanced secretly at Zarkov and met Zarkov’s mischievous grin.
“You will go in as agents of the Oranges, and you will blow up the War Computer, and be heroes!”
Flash nodded.
“Come, Colonels,” snapped General Ild, turning and stalking out of the War Computer Room. “We have one more visit to make.”
As they continued along the corridor behind her, Flash turned to Zarkov and whispered, “This is too good to be true, Doc,” Flash said.
“Right,” Zarkov rejoined. “We’re planning an escape, and she invites us to go over to the enemy.”
“What did you say?” General Ild asked, turning quickly and staring at Flash.
“Nothing important, General Ild,” said Flash with an ingratiating smile. “Just commenting on the beautiful architecture of the palace and the perfection of this morning’s breakfast.”
“Yes, it was good, wasn’t it?” said General Ild. “One of our best morning menus.”
Zarkov choked and turned his head.
They entered a large, flat circular chamber in which a number of tables and chairs had been placed about. It might have been a recreation hall. There was no one in sight.
“Well, Colonels, it is time to forget about words and act.”
Flash nodded.
“A bomb has been constructed and awaits delivery. You will not be alone on your mission. We have arranged to have you accompanied by an experienced saboteur who has been trained for life for this mission.”
Zarkov glanced around the deserted room. “Where is he?”