Captain Future 16 - Magic Moon (Winter 1944) (14 page)

“Ever since we left Jupiter,” was the calm reply.

“Since Jupiter? But we thought Kin Kurri had killed you on Jupiter.”

Otho’s disguised face grew grim. “Kin Kurri tried to kill me there. He suspected I was following him along that jungle trail, and ambushed me. He had his gun against me, and was going to use it. But I’m quicker than any ordinary man, as you ought to know. I twisted the gun around the moment before he fired. His gun-blast killed himself.”

Captain Future began to see light. “I get it now. You buried Kin Kurri there.”

“And took his place,” Otho said. “I figured that as Kin Kurri, one of Valdane’s associates, I could get to the bottom of the plot. So I took Kin Kurri’s clothes, and used the make-up kit I always carry at my belt, to make myself exactly like him. Neither Valdane nor anyone else suspected that I was anyone but Kin Kurri.”

“But why in blazes didn’t you tell me?” Curt Newton demanded.

“Chief, I tried to,” Otho said earnestly. “The night we left Jupiter, I slipped into your cabin to tell you. I had a bottle of make-up remover with me so that I could prove to you I was Otho, if you doubted.”

He grimaced. “But you conked me before I had time to explain. When I came to, the others were around and I couldn’t speak. I told Valdane I’d had suspicions that made me go to your cabin. Valdane told me I was a fool, and ordered me to stay away from you. So I didn’t dare get you apart to tell you, from then on, without running the risk of arousing his suspicions by disobeying his order.”

Captain Future mopped his brow. “You certainly pulled me out of a nasty hole right now, even though you gave me the shock of my life doing it.”

The Stygians had recovered from their fright. After some hesitation, they slowly returned and began to stare at Newton and Otho curiously.

“Otho, what’s Valdane planning?” he asked. “As his associate, you must have learned something of his scheme.”

“Chief, I’ve learned almost nothing,” Otho answered ruefully. He swore. “That cursed Valdane was too cunning to betray himself.” The Stygians had been standing, wondering witnesses of their rapid colloquy. But now Th’ Thaan, their leader, grasped Newton by the arm.

“We do not understand, Captain Future,” he said. “Why did your companion stun this other man? And what is the plot against our world of which you spoke? Will you come into Dzong with us and tell our council?”

Captain Future nodded in quick decision. “Yes, we’ll do that. Your people ought to know what confronts them.”

Otho was deftly binding the senseless Rosson with strips torn from his jacket.

“Bring him along, Otho,” Curt Newton directed.

They moved across the misty plain with the group of Stygians toward the pale stone city that lay a mile away. Though not large, the city Dzong was immeasurably ancient. Its close-clustered octagonal towers were surrounded by a stone wall, and this in turn was bordered by a wide belt of carefully cultivated land.

THEY passed with Th’ Thaan and the others through the open gates of the metropolis and made their way along paved streets toward the largest, central tower. Stygians in the streets stared in wonder at the spectacle of two aliens carrying another unconscious alien through their city. A small crowd formed, and followed them.

Captain Future had been in this city before. It was as he remembered it, an ancient but not unbeautiful place of narrow streets and tall towers half-veiled by the drifting mist. All the architecture here was of massive stone there was not a scrap of metal in evidence. And there were no machines, no mechanical devices, no vehicles except the low carts drawn by the kangaroo-like beasts of burden of the Stygians.

Th’ Thaan led them into a big, eight-sided stone hall that formed the ground floor of the central tower. The council of the Stygians was sitting, earnestly deliberating. Its ranking member, an old Stygian, peered at Curt Newton with wide eyes.

“The Futuremen have returned,” he exclaimed. “Let this be a day of gladness in our city. For you alone of all alien peoples are welcome here, my friend.”

“Thanks, Qu Lur,” Curt Newton said earnestly. He remembered the aged head of the Stygians’ council well, from his former visit. “I wish I had come with more cheerful news than I bring.”

“He says that the space-ship which carne today to our world has brought men who plot to take our whole world away from us,” Th’ Thaan informed the old council head.

Captain Future rapidly explained the existence of a mysterious plot by Jon Valdane and his henchmen to secure control of Styx’ wealth.

“I thought you ought to know so that you can defend yourselves, against these plotters in case I fail,” he concluded earnestly.

“We cannot take life or inflict physical injury on any men, no matter what their evil purposes may be,” old Qu Lur reminded him.

“Then how could you defend yourselves?” Otho protested. “Your powers of hypnotism and illusion are all right to scare people with, but they wouldn’t stand up against a real attack by armed men.”

“I know your pacifistic traditions, but you’ll have to forget them and fight if necessary to protect your world,” Curt Newton told the Stygians.

“Do not fear, we will protect our world if it becomes necessary,” replied old Qu Lur. “But we will not do so by taking life. We will do so by unchaining the Ancient Destroyer.”

“The Destroyer? The thing you’ve been threatening the intruders with?” repeated Curt Newton. “What is it, Qu Lur?”

“It is that which our ancestors devised many ages ago to repel invaders who came to our world,” was the reply. “Come, I will show you.”

He led the way into a small, guarded chamber off the council hall. Curt Newton and Otho followed wonderingly.

There was a massive stone pedestal in the little room, whose face was inscribed with crumbling, ancient hieroglyphs. On the pedestal was a glass case whose contents were a mass of tiny, sealed glass vials, each of which contained a pinch of gray dust.

Qu Lur motioned solemnly toward the glass vials. “That is the Destroyer. With it, our ancestors of long ago crushed the invaders in a single hour. Always we saved it so that we could use it again if necessary.”

Otho stared skeptically. “This Destroyer looks like nothing but some sealed vials of gray powder."

“Otho, these hieroglyphs are ancient Denebian writing,” Captain Future exclaimed.

He had recognized the hieroglyphs. They were in the ancient language of Deneb, that distant star whose pioneering humans had eons ago colonized the whole starry galaxy, including this System’s worlds.

Captain Future mentally spelled out the first part of the inscription, from the knowledge of the hieroglyphs which he had attained on remote Deneb’s world.

“Otho,” he exclaimed, startled and horrified by what he read. “This is one of the secrets of the lost, ancient science — and one of the most terrible of all those secrets.”

HE TURNED to Qu Lur. “You would not unloose this. It would be disastrous beyond imagination.”

“We shall be forced to unloose the Destroyer, unless all the greedy intruders cease to mock our laws and desecrate our peaceful world,” replied Qu Lur solemnly.

“Chief, how can they cause any big disaster without taking life or doing injury?” Otho asked skeptically. “I don’t get it.”

“That gray dust can do it,” Curt Newton said shakenly. He appealed to Qu Lur. “You must not unchain this thing, no matter what happens. Think of the awful consequences.”

At that moment they were interrupted by a sound of excited voices out in the big council hall. Th’ Thaan came running into the little chamber.

“Another of the Futuremen has come!” he exclaimed excitedly. “The one who does not look like a man, and who glides through the air.”

“That’s Simon!” Curt Newton cried. “But what’s he doing here? Something must have happened.”

He raced out into the big hall, with Otho and the others following. At the center of the hall was poised the Brain, calmly hanging in mid-air while his lenslike eyes searched for Curt Newton.

He saw Captain Future, but also saw the disguised Otho behind him. “Kin Kurri,” exclaimed the Brain. “What’s he doing here with you?”

“It’s not Kin Kurd, but Otho,” Curt Newton answered swiftly. “I’ll explain later. Simon, why did you come? What’s happened?”

“I came to warn you,” the Brain replied rapidly. “Su Thuar and all the rest of Valdane’s strong-arm men are coming this way, ahead of the telepicture party. We saw them secretly depart. They had those blow-guns with them.”

“The blow-guns?” Curt Newton repeated mystifiedly. “Is that all they took with them?”

“They took a case of some kind from the property-room of the
Perseus,”
the Brain added. “We couldn’t tell what was in it. There’s nothing in that room anyway but the cameras, sets and costumes.”

“The cameras, sets and costumes?” Captain Future echoed. Sudden dazzling enlightenment came to him. His tanned face blanched.

“Of course, I see it now. Valdane’s plan — I’ve been a blind fool!”

“Chief, you mean you know now what Valdane’s plan is?” cried Otho.

“Of course. There’s only one way in which Valdane’s corporations can get absolute control of the Stygian diamond-deposits.” Curt Newton uttered a groan. “The blow-guns, the costumes, the loophole in the Stygian treaty that Valdane had in mind — it all fits together.”

He plunged toward the doorway. “And it means death for Joan and maybe all the rest of the telepicture troupe. Simon — Otho — come on! We may be too late but we’ve got to try to stop it!”

GRAG and Simon Wright, in the dark property room of the
Perseus
back at Planet Town, had conferred worriedly after Captain Future had left them with his final admonition to see that Joan Randall remained in safety.

“I don’t see how we’re going to get to Joan without giving ourselves away,” Grag said anxiously. “Have you any ideas, Simon?”

“No, I haven’t,” said the Brain. “I wish Otho were here.” He suddenly whispered a warning. “Someone’s coming.”

They subsided instantly into immobility and silence. It was Su Thuar and two other of Valdane’s “bodyguards” who entered.

“That’s the case there,” exclaimed the Venusian criminal, pointing to a metal chest. “Quick, before the property-men come down here.”

The men picked up the chest, and in a moment they were gone with it. Grag and Simon were mystified, but before they could speculate upon it they heard other footsteps approaching.

Joan and Ezra Gurney slipped into the property-room. At first, neither Grag nor the Brain recognized Ezra Gurney in his shabby prospector’s clothing and evil-looking white whiskers. Then his familiar drawl sounded.

“Danged queer-lookin’ automaton over there in the corner, Joan,” he chuckled. “Looks almost lifelike, doesn’t it?”

“Ezra,” cried Grag. He strode forward. “Where’s the
Comet?”

“Right here on this landin’ field,” was the reply. “Only she don’t look like the
Comet
now, but like a battered old space cruiser.”

“Are Eek and Oog all right?” Grag asked anxiously referring to the Futuremen’s two pets on the
Comet.

“Sure, they’re fat an’ sassy,” Ezra reassured. Then his face lengthened. “Joan was just tellin’ me about Otho.”

“Otho’s not dead,” Grag declared stubbornly. “He can’t be.”

Joan interrupted anxiously. “Ezra and I just saw Su Thuar and all the rest of Valdane’s ‘bodyguards’ slip out of the ship into the mist. They had a metal chest with them, and two smaller oblong metal cases.”

“Those are the cases that contain the native blow-guns they picked up secretly on Jupiter,” the Brain said quickly. “The chest they took from the telepicture properties here, but we couldn’t see what was in it. Joan, which way did they go?”

“Northward, the same way Curt and the other two went.”

“I don’t like that,” muttered Simon. “We should warn Curtis.”

“Simon, you could overtake Curt and warn him if we got you out of the ship without anyone seeing,” Joan exclaimed.

“I can get Simon out,” Ezra said promptly. “I got the run of the ship, for I told this Jeff Lewis I knew a lot about Styx and he asked me to go with their telepicture party as a guide. I can wrap up Simon like a bundle, and smuggle him out that way.”

“We’ll do that,” the Brain decided immediately. “It’s imperative that I tell Curtis of Su Thuar’s party following him.”

Ezra soon made an innocent-looking bundle of the Brain by wrapping him up in his jacket. Then he sauntered casually out of the property-room, to leave the
Perseus
and release Simon in the mists.

Grag had detained Joan Randall with an anxious plea. “You must stay here when the telepicture truck-caravan goes to the Stygian city,” said the robot. “The chief told me to tell you so.”

“Stay here?” cried Joan. “I won’t do it. I’m going north with the others after Curt.”

She departed before Grag could think up more objections. The big robot made a disgusted snorting sound and reluctantly resumed his former immobility. For a stir of preparation was resounding through the
Perseus
as the telepicture troupe prepared for the trek northward to the Stygian city.