Captain Future 18 - Red Sun of Danger (Spring 1945)

by Edmond Hamilton

  “I don’t suppose interstellar archaeology is your field. You know, however, that a million years ago our human race had its fountainhead on the worlds of the star Deneb, and that those ancient Denebians conquered all the galaxy? That we of the Solar System and all other human and humanoid races in the universe, are their remote descendants?” Philip Carlin nodded uncertainly. “Everyone has heard of the Denebians who were our remote ancestors.”

  “According to archaeological researches,” Newton continued swiftly, “before their time the galaxy was ruled by a great pre-human race. We know almost nothing about them except that they were a powerful, wholly alien, star-traveling race. They are generally referred to as the Kangas, though the legends of many star-peoples speak of them as the Dark Ones or the Old Ones.

  “The Kangas ruled this galaxy more than a million years ago. It is thought that they were not many in number. They exerted their sway through a subject race of protozoan creatures whom they had created. But the star-conquering men of ancient Deneb found scientific means to defeat the Kangas and their creatures. We learned about that when we visited Deneb. The Kangas vanished, became extinct.

  “But the superstitious dread of them still haunts many worlds. It’s present even in the distorted legends of the Solar System. And the Roons believe it utterly. They have an ancient dread of the Old Ones. Now something has made them believe that the coming of the colonists is threatening to awake the Old Ones. That’s why they’ve turned hostile.”

  He frowned. “I believe that Harmer and the other conspirators here are inciting the Roons by arousing their superstitious dread of the Old Ones.”

  “But how?” rasped the Brain. “Gaa would tell nothing except that there had been omens of the Old Ones’ awaking.”

  “Let me see the fellow,” Captain Future asked. “We may be able to get a little more out of him.”

  They went into the back room. Gaa still sat bound in the chair, and his red face expressed stony defiance still as he eyed them.

  Curt Newton spoke fluently in the Roon dialect to the captive tribesman. “You fear the waking of the Old Ones?”

  Gaa answered sullenly. “We have reason to fear it. Long ago, we were a mighty people who conquered the Old Ones by means of magic Wands of Power. The Old Ones so feared us then that they hid from us in sleep. But my people now no longer have the secret of our ancestors’ Wands of Power. If the Old Ones wake now they will destroy us.”

  “This superstitious legend of theirs is directly based on tradition,” muttered Simon, in English. “You recognize the Wands of Power’?”

  Captain Future nodded. “It’s a legendary description of the psycho-amplifiers the ancient Denebians used to conquer the Kangas.”

  “Where do the Old Ones lie sleeping?” he asked Gaa.

  Gaa’s lips tightened. “We tell that to no one. If star-men like you knew, they would tamper with the Crypt of the Old Ones and unloose disaster.”

  Captain Future tried a different tack. “What are the omens which you said convinced your people the Old Ones are stirring?”

  Gaa would not answer that, either. The Roon simply sat glaring at them. They gave it up and went back into the bigger room.

  Simon Wright summed up the mystery. “There is a Crypt of the Old Ones. That much is certain. But where is it?”

  “Why do the tribes think that driving out the colonists will placate the Old Ones?” Joan Randall asked keenly.

  Curt Newton nodded. “You’ve put your finger on the crux of the thing. The Roons wouldn’t evolve that idea out of nothing. They’ve been told that by someone, someone who wants them to raid the colony.”

  “And that someone is the conspirators here,” exclaimed Otho. “Undoubtedly, the same plotters deliberately caused the mysterious ‘omens’.”

  Philip Carlin felt admiration at the way the keen minds of this strange group were cutting to the mystery at the heart of the problem.

  Captain Future paced the lamp illuminated room, then spoke rapidly. “One more Roon attack means rebellion in the colony. So the Roons must be quieted, their fanatic fears allayed, at any cost.

  “That means that some of us have got to go into the Roon country and find this Crypt of the Old Ones around which their superstitions center, and stop the ‘omens’ there.”

  “Say, that’s a job for me!” exclaimed Otho. “I’ll make up as a Roon, and —”

  “I’ve another job for you,” Newton interrupted. He turned toward Philip Carlin. “Doctor Carlin, you know the Roons and the jungles fairly well from your former visit here. You and Grag should have a good chance of success in this search. Will you try?”

  CARLIN did not hesitate. He nodded quickly. “I’ll try.”

  “That jungle runs from here to the Austral Ocean,” Grag exclaimed. “How are we going to find this secret Crypt of the Old Ones in all that?”

  “It must be near Gaa’s village,” Newton said. “Otherwise his people wouldn’t have been able to observe the ‘omens’ at the Crypt, as he told us.”

  “But where’s Gaa’s village?” Grag demanded. “None of us know.”

  “Gaa will guide you there if you tell him you want to talk peace with his people,” Newton retorted. “Of course, Gaa will be figuring to lead you there and then have his people seize you. It will be up to you to turn the tables and beat him at his own game.”

  Carlin caught his breath at the calm audacity of the plan. But the others seemed to take it as a matter of course. “Shall I go with them?” asked the Brain.

  Curt Newton shook his head. “I want you to stay here and construct a thing for me that will help to allay the Roons’ superstitious fears, in case we fail to find the Crypt and stop the ‘omens’.”

  “Just what do you have in mind?” asked the Brain keenly.

  “Simon, you heard what Gaa said about the magic Wands of Power his ancestors used to conquer the Old Ones? We know that’s a legendary description of the psycho-amplifiers the Denebians used against the Kangas.

  “Remember, the Denebians gave us a detailed description of them which is still in our file. If we could show them we had one of those Wands of Power, the Roons would believe we could protect them from the Old Ones and thus we could quiet them down even if we failed to stop the ‘omens’.”

  “I understand,” said the Brain thoughtfully. “You want me to construct one of the instruments to impress the Roons. Yes, I can do that.”

  “We must also discover and seize the leader of the conspirators behind this whole business,” Captain Future continued. He turned to Joan Randall. “Joan, you said that you learned on Venus that the trail of Lu Suur led to Roo?”

  Joan nodded. “Lu Suur came here to Roo.”

  Newton pondered. “Lu Suur was a brainy, dangerous man, from what I’ve heard. Only the establishment of vitron growing on Roo broke his Venusian monopoly. He might have decided to come to Roo and repeat his scheme on a bigger scale.”

  “You mean Lu Suur may be the real leader of Harmer’s secession conspiracy?” queried the girl.

  “There’s a strong possibility,” Newton said. “Of course, he’d be using an assumed name. Have you a picture of him, Joan?”

  She nodded. “An old one we got on Venus. Here it is.”

  Lu Suur, in the photograph, was a middle-aged Venusian of average stature, with sleek, dark hair and a smooth, handsome face. The face was unremarkable except for the ironical intelligence in the eyes.

  “I haven’t seen any Venusian here who looks like that,” said Philip Carlin.

  “Otho, do you think he could pass himself off as an Earthman?” Captain Future asked thoughtfully.

  “Sure, it would be easy,” said Otho. “Venusians and Earthmen are both white-skinned races. The only pigmentation difference is that all Venusians are dark-haired, and don’t grow gray with age like Earthmen.”

  “Then Lu Suur might have changed his planetary nationality as well as his name after he came to Roo,” Curt Newton pointed out.

 
He turned to the girl. “Joan, I want you and Ezra to go in to the Governor’s office tomorrow and check the records of all Venusians and Earthmen who came to Roo at the time Lu Suur left Venus. Try and get on Lu Suur’s trail. As for me, I’m going to keep on searching for that man in my own way, as ‘Rab Cain’, new member of the secession party.”

  “But you can’t go back to them now!” Joan protested. “Li Sharn is dead. How are you going to explain that?”

  Captain Future grinned. “I won’t have to explain it. Li Sharn will be with me. From now on, Otho, in disguise, is going to be Li Sharn.”

  Philip Carlin stared incredulously. “Can he do it? Make up enough like the Saturnian to pass for him?”

  “Can I do it?” Otho echoed loftily. “Listen, I once made up as an undersea sea-man of Neptune and got away with it. You are looking at the greatest master of disguise in the System, the man of a thousand faces.”

  “That’s right,” Grag put in. “Otho’s always showing up in a completely new face. I don’t blame the poor fellow — I would too, if I had a face like his.”

  Otho jumped. “Why, you miserable automaton, I suppose you’re good-looking? Listen, folks, and I’ll tell you something about Grag. Every year regularly he gets his face lifted — with a welding-torch.” EZRA started to laugh but Captain Future cut in impatiently. “More speed and less horseplay from you two! Otho, I’ve got to get back with you to Li Sham’s plantation before dawn. You’ve an hour and a half.”

  To Carlin and the others who had never seen Otho assume one of his disguises, the next hour was a revelation. The android could twist his mobile countenance of synthetic flesh into almost any desired features. Skillfully placed rubberoid pads completed the work. With smooth gray pigment, Otho then stained his body and face. A thin fringe of false hair went onto his hairless skull.

  He put on Li Sham’s clothing, after they had buried the Saturnian back in the grove. When he finally made his appearance, his cadaverous face, fishy eyes and suspicious expression were identical with those of the late conspirator.

  “It’ll pass,” Curt Newton approved. “I’ll have to coach you on his voice on the way over. We’ve no time to lose!”

  At the door he turned, his eyes sweeping them. “I’ll get into communication with you here as soon as I can. And Grag, you and Carlin take no unnecessary chances. As soon as you find the Crypt of the Old Ones out there, report back here to Simon.”

  Pale red streaks of dawn were rifting the sky as Captain Future and Otho drove up to Li Sham’s seedy plantation. Hastily, they ran the rocket-car into one of the sheds behind the cement house.

  Curt Newton hoped that the machine would not be identified as one of Carlin’s. He made a mental resolve to get rid of it as soon as possible, and would not have come in it had it not been for the lack of time.

  All the way, he had coached Otho upon Li Sham’s voice and mannerisms, and the layout of the plantation.

  “Here come the workers,” muttered Newton a few moments after they entered the house. The two Uranians and the Neptunian who were the late Li Sham’s vitron workers had emerged from a bunkhouse and were lazily approaching.

  Otho eyed them with the fishy stare of the Saturnian he impersonated, and spoke in Li Sham’s whining voice.

  “Time you were getting up, if you’re going to do anything out in the fields today,” he complained.

  The men stared at him, surprised. “Do we really have to start vitron-grubbing?” grumbled the Neptunian. “You said we wouldn’t have to do field-work unless someone was around.”

  Captain Future realized that Otho had made a slip — these man had not been hired as vitron-grubbers, that being only a blind. And the quick-thinking android realized his mistake at the same time.

  “You’ve got to do something!” he snapped. “People will get suspicious if they see all our vitron-seedlings being choked out by weeds.”

  “Oh, all right,” grunted the man. “Does this fellow Cain help us?”

  “I’ve got other things for him to do,” Otho retorted.

  After the men put on their sun-helmets and went sulkily out into the baking vitron-fields, Otho mopped his brow.

  “Nearly blew our tubes that time,” he muttered.

  “You’ll have to do better than that with Harmer and Ka Thaar,” Captain Future said. “One of them should hunt you up today — they were to give Li Sham new orders from the leader.”

  Curt Newton was bone-weary from lack of sleep, but seized this opportunity to start a thorough search of Li Sham’s plantation buildings.

  “The rebellion party must have a store of weapons hidden away somewhere in preparation for the outbreak,” he explained. “They wouldn’t keep them at Harmer’s place. Maybe they’re here.”

  “If Oog were around, he’d smell them out no matter where they were hidden,” Otho said.

  It had been necessary for Otho to leave his pet at Carlin’s plantation, a decision which Oog had thoroughly protested.

  Their search found nothing but a few atom-guns such as every plantation kept for defense against Roon raids or prowling night-dragons.

  “If they have a secret arsenal, it’s somewhere else,” Newton muttered. He stretched warily. “I’ve got to catch some sleep. Wake me before those workers come back in.”

  Captain Future slept in the dusty bedroom. Strangely, his dreams were of the Old Ones. He seemed once again at distant Deneb, that remote star to which he and the Futuremen years ago had ventured. Again he was listening to Khor the Denebian tell of the alien Kangas who reigned before men came. There was awe in Khor’s voice as he talked to the Futuremen —

  “ — Futuremen are taking a hand in this!” That voice was not in any dream. It came from the next room and had awakened Newton. He jumped up, discovering that it was now midday.

  SUDDENLY he recognized the voice that had awakened him. Ka Thaar’s voice! And Ka Thaar was saying something about the Futuremen!

  Was it discovery? Newton shoved his atom-pistol into his jacket for instant use before he went out into the living-room.

  Ka Thaar, standing facing. “Li Sharn,” turned and looked at him with cold dislike as he entered. The Mercurian youngster’s thin, dark face was ominous.

  “It’s this fellow Cain’s fault that they’ve come,” he rasped.

  “What’s my fault?” demanded Curt Newton, yawning.

  “That the Futuremen are mixing into things here!” snapped Ka Thaar. “I told Harmer he was a fool to take you in. The Futuremen are probably here to track down the man who shot their leader.”

  Curt Newton felt dismayed and puzzled. How could the conspirators have guessed that the Futuremen were on Roo?

  “What makes you think the Futuremen are taking a hand?” asked Otho skeptically.

  “A couple of hours ago, this morning, two secret agents of the Planet Patrol conferred with Walker King, the Governor,” answered Ka Thaar. “They’re not just two ordinary agents — they’re that girl Joan Randall and the old marshal, Gurney. Everyone knows that they associate with the Futuremen.”

  Captain Future began to understand. Joan and Ezra, in their search for Lu Suur’s trail, had been recognized.

  Newton took an incredulous tone. “Those two coming to Roo doesn’t prove the Futuremen are going to follow,” he asserted.

  “That girl and old Gurney are two stormy petrels, warning of the coming of the Futuremen,” exclaimed Ka Thaar. “I’m sure of it.”

  “So what if the Futuremen do come?” bluffed Newton. “They’re not invincible. I’m no more afraid of them than I was of Future himself.”

  Ka Thaar looked at him with cold hatred. “Cain, a man of your stripe wouldn’t have a chance against Captain Future or his bunch, except by trickery.”

  “Rab Cain” sneered. But inwardly, he was wondering. Ka Thaar had evidently a queer, deep respect for Captain Future — but that made the Mercurian none the less dangerous!

  “Our orders are to get the Randall girl and old Gurney out of
the way at once,” Ka Thaar said incisively. “They’re too close to a hot trail for comfort.”

  Captain Future stiffened. Did the conspirators mean murder? If so, he’d have to fight it out with Ka Thaar here and now.

  To ascertain their intentions, he made a suggestion to Ka Thaar. “We’ll cut ‘em both down with a couple of gun-blasts, eh?” he asked, meaningly.

  “No!” hissed Ka Thaar. “They’re not to be harmed, get that. You use your gun on them and I’ll blast you down myself. We’re to grab them and take them out to the Valley until after the blow-off. Li Sharn knows where to go.”

  Otho nodded, pretending understanding. “Oh, sure. That’s the best place.”

  Captain Future breathed a little more easily. He rapidly made up his mind. He didn’t want to expose his imposture yet, for that would ruin his chances of discovering the unknown head of the conspiracy in time.

  Therefore, he must go through with helping kidnap Joan and Ezra! They’d be in no danger, with Otho and him among the kidnappers.

  “We start now,” Ka Thaar said, turning toward the door. “Harmer’s men will have the Firebird waiting at the Rootown spaceport. We must hurry.”

  A few minutes later, Curt Newton and Otho were speeding with the Mercurian toward Rootown on their strange mission.

  Chapter 11: In the Red Jungles

  FAR into the jungle, south of the colony, the captive Roon tribesman led Philip Carlin and Grag.

  Gaa’s hands were bound behind him. And big Grag walked closely beside him, while Carlin had his atom-pistol holstered at his belt.

  The Roon stopped suddenly in the dim trail they were following. “Now what’s the matter?” Grag demanded suspiciously.

  Gaa looked at the robot. “The trail forks here. We must strike a little westward, toward Yellow River.”

  They looked doubtfully at the red tribesman, and then around the strange scene. Carlin took off his sun-helmet, mopping his brow.

  The young Earthman botanist and the gigantic robot stood with their captive in a reddish gloom. All around them towered the massive trunks of great trees, supporting high overhead a whole faery, crimson world of foliage and flowers. A world of teeming life whose many leafy levels reached a hundred feet above them, filtering the mid-day radiance of glaring Arkar.