Captain Future 14 - Worlds to Come (Spring 1943) Read online

  “How was he to know?” defended Grag.

  “Wonder what they’ll do to us,” remarked Ber Del.

  It was a deft change of subject, thought Otho, but hardly a change for the better. As the Teuri led them forward, they suddenly found themselves approaching an underground entrance. A pale greenish light seemed to come from the walls of a tunnel. Probably the result of radioactivity, thought Otho.

  They moved ahead several hundred feet through a high but narrow passageway, and found themselves unexpectedly in a huge grotto. The walls glittered with the same greenish light that had illuminated their way, and by its ghastly glare Otho could glimpse directly in front of them what appeared to be the grandfather of all the bird-men.

  It took him a moment to realize that it was a statue he saw, standing in a great niche in the wall, and glowing with a light of its own. And it was not exactly like the bird-men in shape, either.

  It was almost twenty feet in height, and about seven in width. But there were four arms, instead of the usual pair with which the Teuri were supplied, and each arm held a silver spear. Flames seemed to come from the penguin-like beak, and a glow of blue-green fire from the entire great body.

  “The Teuri use radium freely,” commented Ki Illok.

  Otho nodded. He was a little uncertain as to what would come next, but he had an idea it would not be pleasant. This statue was undoubtedly the bird-god of the tribe. And when a group of strangers was brought before the deity of savages, human or bird-like, it was not simply for the sake of making introductions. There were a few sacrifices in the offing.

  He looked around at the faces of his companions. The star-captains, who were just as much aware as he was of what was coming, showed no fear, but only curiosity. Strange, thought Otho, the way these human beings reacted. All along they had been afraid of what would happen to their people at the hands of Gorma Hass. But when danger threatened them personally, it meant little to them.

  As for Grag — well, Otho liked to stir the big robot up, arouse his fury by making some remark directed at his vanity, even jeer at him occasionally for being afraid, but to tell the truth, there was not an iota of fear built into Grag’s sponge-metal brain. If it came to the worst, he would go down fighting courageously — provided he went down at all. The fact was that Otho didn’t see exactly how the bird-men could harm Grag, anyway.

  The huge grotto was filling slowly with the Teuri. The one whose golden spear had been partly devoured by Eek was approaching slowly, making his clucking sounds.

  Otho racked his brains in an attempt to discover a way out of the situation. He had speed to match Grag’s strength, and a sudden dash might lead to his own freedom. But it would also lead to the death of the star-captains, with their merely human reflexes, and that meant that any attempt at his own escape was out. He would have to think of something else.

  MOST of the Teuri were making the clucking sounds now, and Otho was reminded of the chants of more human savages. He could detect a sort of rhythm in the sounds, and occasionally even a rhyme or two. As time passed the rhythm appeared to quicken.

  Ber Del had been staring at the huge statue of the bird-god. “Look!” he exclaimed suddenly.

  The points of the four spears the statue held were incandescent. “What does that mean?” demanded Grag.

  “Probably the way they intend to kill us,” replied Ber Del. “Those spear points are loaded with radium.”

  “Very likely with poison as well,” added Hol Jor. “Just to make sure that a touch will kill, and that death will be instantaneous.”

  The bird-man who had been leading the chanting was now beginning to move around in a circle, as if in a weird dance. And then suddenly he leaped toward the statue. With a motion so quick that none of the men could follow it, he pulled a spear from a pair of the extended hands, and threw it.

  It sped straight for Ber Del, oldest of the star-captains. Its flight was so rapid that Ber Del had no chance to step aside. But as it drove toward his heart, Otho flung himself at it.

  Otho had need of all his superhuman speed now. He caught the spear by the shaft just as the incandescent point was a foot away from Ber Del, and flung it back. The bird-man who had thrown it at Ber Del received it square on his broad body.

  He fell as if blasted with an atom-pistol. And at the same time another chorus of clucking sounds came from the Teuri. Otho thought at first that the sounds were angry ones, but the actions of the bird-men quickly taught him better. They were bending over toward him, as if in worship.

  Because of his feat of skill, wondered Otho? And then a rapid glance behind him gave him the answer. The Teuri were worshipping a small live bird-god, who had strutted out from behind the star-captains and was now gazing stolidly at the grotto filled with savages. The small creature raised one if its arms, and the clucking died away. Then the miniature deity sank down to the ground, and became a stone.

  “It’s Oog!” breathed Otho. “Let’s hurry, before they change their minds!”

  The android, the robot, and the star-captains retraced their underground path unmolested. Arrived at the surface once more, Hol Jor and the other two men wiped the perspiration away from their foreheads. Then Hol Jor laughed.

  “That was close,” he said. “Lucky we had a god of our own.”

  He was wrong about the men, decided Otho sadly. They had been slightly afraid. About the only man who would have been utterly fearless in such a situation was Curt Newton himself.

  Otho threw off the switch of his wave-transmitter. “Now,” he said confidently, “let Gorma Hass and his soldiers come.”

  GORMA HASS did not accept the invitation personally, but he did send his soldiers. It was not many days after the near-sacrifice to the Teuri bird-god that Otho, watching intently, looked up to see a sky filled with the faint fiery trails of distant rocket blasts. He ran hurriedly to the wave-transmitter, and threw the switch.

  What happened then was almost uncanny. The rocket trails died away, and the large space ships from which they had been coming thundered on, their speed unchecked. Otho heard no sound for a time, as the ships were moving much more rapidly than sound waves would travel. But he could see their outlines beginning to glow from the heat of friction developed in their mad onrush through the atmosphere.

  “They’re going to crash!” exclaimed Ber Del.

  Otho nodded happily. “They can’t use their braking rockets. And they’ve built up a terrific speed in their journey through space.”

  Grag was staring fascinated at a single one of the two dozen space ships. “It’s moving parallel to the planet’s surface. It won’t crash for a long time.”

  “But it will eventually,” said Otho. “It can’t help that.”

  Unexpectedly, a jet of flame came from the ship’s fore-rockets.

  Otho’s mouth dropped open in astonishment.

  “Somehow,” observed Grag, “that ship has managed to get its atomic power working once more. Your wave-transmitting machine is a failure, Otho.”

  Otho shook his head. “You think it’s a failure? Just take a look at that!”

  The other space ships were crashing. Like gigantic meteorites, each hit the ground with a tremendous deafening explosion. To save his eardrums, plastic though they were, Otho judged it wise to follow the example of the star-captains, who were protecting their ears with their hands, and at the same time keeping their mouths open to equalize the pressure.

  Grag, of course, being built of metal, was not so strongly affected.

  The explosions came to an end. Where each space ship had struck there was now an enormous crater, several hundred yards in diameter. Near the center of each crater was a glowing lump of molten metal. Of living beings inside the crater, there was no trace.

  “So my machine’s a failure, is it?” asked Otho proudly.

  “You needn’t boast.” returned Grag. “It failed with one ship.”

  “We’ll take care of the crew. Wait till they come after us and try to use their a
tom-pistols.”

  They waited on the alert. It was several hours before they saw the line of soldiers coming toward them, Each space ship carried almost a thousand men and, with their atom-pistols of no use whatever, Otho figured that Grag’s strength would be just about enough to enable them to win the victory.

  As a triple line of soldiers came within pistol range, Otho heard a loud yell.

  “Surrender, and you will not be harmed! Gorma Hass does not destroy unless it is necessary!”

  Otho smiled. Those soldiers had a surprise coming to them. Their weapons would be useless. And they hadn’t seen him or Grag yet; they believed that there were merely human beings to fight.

  He saw the atom-pistols rise at the word of command, saw fingers press on triggers.

  And then he watched the startled expressions that were on the faces of the soldiers.

  “Time to let them have it,” he decided.

  FIVE spears sped toward the wavering lines. Four men fell to four of the spears, pierced through. The fifth spear, that thrown by Grag, went completely through a soldier in the first row, missed one in the second, and transfixed another in the third.

  The rows of soldiers had stopped coming now, but a sharp word of command urged them on again. Another group of spears took its toll, then another.

  At this moment, Grag stepped forward and showed himself.

  “Come on, you weaklings,” he roared. “I’ll lick the whole bunch of you myself!”

  The soldiers moved rapidly again, back toward their original position. They wanted nothing to do with the robot.

  And then the ranks parted. A beast-faced gray monster came striding through between the fear-stricken soldiers.

  “A Sverd!” breathed Ki Illok.

  NEITHER Grag nor Otho had previously seen these feared creatures of Gorma Hass. Grag studied the approaching monster, then stepped forward.

  “Here’s where I pin this thing’s ears back,” he boasted.

  The Sverd was coming silently. When it reached Grag, it made no attempt to use any of the instruments that hung at its belt. It simply stretched out its arms.

  Otho stared, and for the first time in his plastic life, almost fainted. For Grag, the mighty Grag, was as helpless as a child. The Sverd lifted him, tucked him under one of its arms, and strode on!

  Ten minutes later, Grag, Otho, and the star-captains were prisoners aboard the space ship that had not been destroyed, headed for a destination unknown. Their own Comet, piloted by several of the soldiers, followed.

  Grag was still in a stupor. “I can’t see,” he complained, “how that animal could do such a thing to me!”

  “What I don’t understand,” said Otho, “is why this single space ship didn’t crash when that wave-machine of mine went into operation!”

  The three star-captains sat in glum silence, making no attempt to answer either of these questions.

  Chapter 13: Gorma Hass Talks

  IN THE palace of Gorma Hass, while a buzzing sound came from the machine the Brain had constructed, the hand of Mar Del closed on his atom-pistol. He had been gazing steadily at the blue-skinned Vegan whom he knew to be Gorma Hass. He realized that the conqueror’s appearance was deceptive, and that to the Brain he might have a totally different form, but all the same it gave him a feeling of reassurance to see this enemy in a shape he recognized. “That will do no good,” said the Brain.

  Mar Del realized that the Brain was speaking to him. He was referring to the atom-pistol.

  Nevertheless, Mar Del raised the weapon and fired. The slender beam of highly energized atoms passed through the body of Gorma Hass as if it were not there. A round hole formed in the wall behind him, and that was all.

  Then the Brain spoke again. “What are you doing in this world?” he rasped.

  For a moment Gorma Hass was silent. Eventually, however, Mar Del saw the blue-skinned Vegan whom he knew not to be a Vegan at all break into a smile.

  “You are clever, you box-creature. Of all those whom I have seen in this Universe, you are the only one who has had the intelligence to learn what I am.”

  “I do not know what you are. I only suspect. I decided that you were from out of this Universe because your mind does not function as ours do. What are you doing here?” Simon repeated. “Why have you come here to destroy?”

  Gorma Hass was silent again, as if debating within himself whether or not to reply. “There is no harm in my telling you,” he said finally. “I am from a Universe where the curvature is ten times that of your own. You could no more live there physically than I could live here.”

  “You mean that you have no material existence at all?” gasped Mar Del.

  “Not here. My body is in the world from which I have come. And my mind can not be harmed.”

  Gorma Hass was lying, thought Simon. His mind could be harmed, else he would not have troubled to state the opposite. He was simply trying, for his own purposes, to convince them of his invulnerability. Simon did not intend to let himself be convinced.

  “Why did you come here?” he asked a third time.

  “Life in my own Universe was becoming intolerable,” replied Gorma Hass slowly, “For millions of years, my race had been conscious of dangerous radiations that have penetrated our few worlds, slowly killing many of us, and harming countless others. Until recently, we looked upon these radiations as natural phenomena, phenomena which were beyond our control and must be endured.

  “But a few centuries ago we discovered the truth. These harmful radiations originated not in our own Universe, but in another totally alien to us.”

  “In ours,” suggested Simon.

  “In yours,” agreed Gorma Hass. “Material objects in both your Universe and our own were limited by the boundaries of ordinary three-dimensional space. But radiations, being nothing but a form of wave-motion, could spread into other dimensions. Crossing a vast four-dimensional gulf, these radiations reached us.

  “Many of them were harmless in the worlds where they originated. But our worlds are subject to different laws than yours. We suffered long — and then we discovered that these radiations were created by living creatures.

  “Since coming to your Universe, I have learned something of its history. Unhampered by the presence of a material body, I have been able to travel easily from one star to another. I discovered that the origin of the so-called human race was on the planetary system of the star named Deneb.

  “From Deneb this race spread to other stars, some of them many light-years away. Everywhere that it spread, it built cities and civilizations. And each civilization was a source of some form of the radiations that caused so much harm in my own Universe.

  “I came to a single conclusion. These civilizations must be destroyed.”

  SIMON spoke as Gorma Hass paused.

  “Not only the civilizations,” rasped Simon. “You seek to destroy the human race itself. For even though you reduce it to savagery, if any of its members are left, some day they will regain the civilization they have lost, and you will be in danger once more.”

  “It is hardly necessary to explain to you,” said Gorma Hass with approval. “You understand only too well. I and my Sverds are too few in number to effect so great a task alone. The destruction, to be effective, must be carried out by the human beings themselves. So I have enlisted in my cause many of those I have already conquered.”

  “And eventually, when they have completed your purpose, they too will be destroyed.”

  “As you are to be destroyed now. By the Sverds.”

  There was another short pause. Mar Del saw a faint expression of surprise beginning to form on the face of Gorma Hass. And then there came a sound from Simon that might have been laughter. The Brain’s voice-apparatus was not constructed in such a way as to permit the easy expression of the few emotions that moved him. But in those sounds Mar Del was distinctly aware of a feeling of amusement.

  “It is useless to concentrate your will, Gorma Hass,” said the Brain. “You
can not influence us directly. And your connection with the Sverds is broken.”

  “They will come soon.”

  “Not this time. I have long been certain that your control over these creatures was purely mental. Suspecting that you yourself were nothing but mind, I knew that any form of physical control was impossible.”

  “We could sense the mental control while walking through the palace,” put in Mar Del.

  “Yes. This instrument whose buzzing you hear, which I worked out with the aid of a — a friend some time ago, radiates a force that neutralizes the neuronic currents in an animal’s brain cells. Within the radius of its vibration, the Sverds can neither have thoughts of their own, or receive orders from you.

  “Now, Gorma Hass, we shall find out whether you are as invulnerable as you claim to be.”

  Simon was bluffing, Mar Del felt sure. But for one long breathless moment he saw an expression of doubt on the Vegan face of Gorma Hass. And then a Sverd walked into the room.

  The creature faced Gorma Hass.

  “I shall do your will, Master,” it said.

  Then it turned around and saw Simon and Mar Del.

  Chapter 14: Soldier for the Enemy

  AS THE Sverd lifted the rod to blast him and Joan, Curt Newton moved swiftly. Joan did not see what he had done, but the next moment the figure of the Sverd and the objects about him became dim. He lowered his weapon and stared about in confusion.

  “What —” she began.

  Curt squeezed her arm and at the same time put a finger to his lips. Joan relapsed into silence.

  Then they started to walk quietly to one side. The Sverd was still staring quietly at the place where they had been. Now Joan noticed that as they moved, the huge beast’s body seemed to glitter slightly.