by Alex Raymond
THE TIME TRAP OF MING XIII
THE TIME TRAP OF MING XIII is the forth in the series of fabulous novels inspired by the famous comic strip FLASH GORDON, read daily and Sunday by millions of fans throughout the world.
After his scientists design the Tempendulum, a machine that can transport people backward and forward through generations of time, Ming XIII sends his evil henchmen back to change the course of history by assassinating FLASH GORDON. After a series of hair-raising adventures, Flash turns the tables on Ming's men and propels them back to their own century.
OTHER FLASH GORDON ADVENTURES
from Avon Books
#1 The Lion Men of Mongo
#2 The Plague of Sound
#3 The Space Circus
#4 The Time Trap of Ming XIII
#5 The Witch Queen of Mongo
#6 The War of the Cybernauts
THE TIME TRAP OF MING XIII is an original publication of Avon Books. This work has never before appeared in book form.
AVON BOOKS
A division of The Hearst Corporation
959 Eighth Avenue
New York, New York 10019
Copyright © 1974 by King Features Syndicate, Inc.
Co-published by Avon Books and King Features Syndicate, Inc.
ISBN: 0-380-00111-X
Cover art by George Wilson
All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Avon Books.
First Avon Printing, January 1974
Printed in U.S.A
THE TIME TRAP
OF MING XIII
CHAPTER 1
They were deep in the primeval forest, not far from Arboria on the superway from the spaceport, when the trouble began. The power in the jetcar failed. Then, abruptly, it returned.
“What’s the matter, Flash?” asked Dale Arden, turning to the driver. She was a slender, dark-haired girl in her early twenties dressed in a pale-green stretch blouse, wide crimson belt, and informal spacetravel skirt.
Flash Gordon turned to her with a frown. “I don’t know, Dale,” he said. “I thought for a moment I was losing jet thrust.” He was a strappingly muscular man with curly blond hair, blue eyes, and a deep solar tan. He wore a one-piece military uniform with the World Councl ranking of colonel on the collar.
Dale frowned. “This is a mighty lonely part of the forest.” Strange tropical vegetation towered above the curved superway as it wound through the Forest Kingdom of Mongo. Giant specimens of Earth’s ferns and conifers abounded in the region.
“I guess the thrust pack is all right,” Flash said, testing the foot pedal. “I’m not used to this hydrogen-powered model of Zarkov’s.”
Dale was lost in deep thought. She stared out at the oranges and lavenders and beiges that seemed to glow among the lush vegetation.
“Cat got your tongue?” asked Flash.
“When I’ve been away, I always forget how beautiful the trees of the forest kingdom really are,” she said, sighing.
“Erratic evolutionary development,” Flash said. “Earth plant growth followed a more leisurely pattern of change. Mongo’s suffered a slowdown, due to the planet’s erratic cooling process, and then a quick speedup.”
“Oh, I know all that,” said Dale. She fell silent.
“That isn’t what you’re really thinking about, is it?”
“No.” Dale smiled. “I’m thinking how glad I’ll be to see our old friends on Mongo. Prince Barin. Dr. Zarkov.”
“It’ll be like old home week.” Flash chuckled. “Doc Zarkov sounded just the same when we talked to him by laserphone from the Spaceport Inn, maybe a little louder and boomier than ever, but that’s Zarkov’s style.”
“I don’t know how you talk to him,” Dale said. “It’s always hydrogen packs or suspension systems or thrust pedals. I can never make head nor tail out of what he’s saying. Sometimes I’d just like to pull his beard and make him scream.”
Flash laughed good-naturedly.
As they shot along the newly constructed, delicately cambered roadway, only the swishing sound of the plyolact tires whispering over the surface of the slick copoly-petrol pavement broke the silence of the giant forest about them. Now and then a gold-and-red bird flashed into view, only to vanish instantly amidst the purple and beige of the trees and vines. They were alardactyls, mostly, similar to Earth’s flying mammals—strange beasts with brilliant silver eyes that turned gold when they sighted prey.
“Something’s bothering you,” Flash said suddenly.
Dale glanced at him. “Yes. I am worried.”
He laughed. “That’s obvious. But I don’t know why you should be.”
Dale was silent a moment. Then she said: “There have been so many delays.”
“Delays?” Flash kept his eye on the road. The superway wound lazily through towering ferns and gigantic conifers on either side. He could feel that slight lack of thrust in the pedal under his foot. And then, almost immediately, the power was back. “What delays?”
“Oh, the delay in getting the jetcar papers, for example.”
“That’s just bureaucratic paper juggling, Dale. Nothing to worry about.”
“And before that. The long flight from Earth’s system.”
“Sun spots, Dale. Our solar sun spots. You can’t blame that on Mongo.”
“I suppose not.” Dale frowned.
“Well?”
“And then there was that unexpected traffic tieup in the spaceport.”
“Population density, Dale.” Flash laughed. “Even on Mongo.”
“You haven’t said a word about that break-in at the Spaceport Inn.”
Flash frowned. He glanced at Dale. “A simple burglary, Dale. They have cat burglars on Mongo as well as on Earth.”
“I don’t like it at all—and to have the two of them so—well—so strange.”
“Strange? Oh, you mean the innkeeper’s daughter and her description of them? Weird dress? They were actors, Just as they said they were, doing a science-fiction play.”
“I don’t know,” Dale said musingly.
“You know what?” Flash asked with a grin.
“What?”
“You’re just being a worry wart.”
Dale frowned and slid down, into the plyoform seat, folding her arms irritably over her chest.
“What would the the purpose of delaying our visit to Arboria and Prince Barin?” Flash asked after a moment.
“I don’t know,” snapped Dale. “Forget I said it.”
Flash was watching the dials on the jetcar’s console. Thrust: okay. Hydrogen content: half. Reactor well: okay. Heat exchange: pressure good. E.T.A.: minus fifty-five seconds.
He drew up sharply. “Something’s wrong, Dale! We’re losing speed!”
Dale glanced at the Estimated Time of Arrival, readout in the digital port. “Almost a minute slow! What’s happened?”
The digital port spun with figures: 150s 200s.
Flash pushed on the thrust pedal. The figures continued to speed by in the digital port 250s. 300s.
“We’re losing power!”
The jetcar suddenly shuddered and wobbled on the superway as if the road itself were trying to buck it off. Flash gripped the wheel desperately. The jetcar steadied down to a straight course.
“What was that all about?” Dale’s face was white.
“I don’t know,” Flash admitted.
“Is the roadbed pitted?” She peered ahead through the plyoglass windscreen. The superway stretched out ahead of them like a band of ribbon laid through the wild growth of vegetation. There were no pockmarks in th
e slick, expertly fabricated copoly-petrol surface.
“Impossible,” said Flash. “Mongo’s minerals make a firm bond with the carbon molecule. Copoly-petrol simply cannot break up like Earth’s macadam base.”
“Then the trouble must be in the car,” Dale whispered, glancing about her at the expertly engineered interior of the revolutionary hydrogen-powered zarcar—named after Dr. Zarkov and his scientists who had designed it.
“Absolutely negative,” snapped Flash. “This is the finest piece of equipment made on Mongo. According to Doc Zarkov, anyway. Hydrogen reactor made of lexmat, the most durable metal in the whole Mongo system. Jet thrusters of litelep, the least weighty alloy known. Indestructible tires of plyolact, combining the elasticity of Mongo’s famous milktree sap and the durability of plyomatt. Zarkov designed it. There’s nothing that could go wrong!”
Dale shook her head helplessly. “I know, Flash.” Her eyes widened. “Hey! What’s that odor?”
Flash sniffed. The zarcar was suddenly filled with a smell that was utterly foreign to his nostrils.
“It’s unlike anything I ever smelled before,” he said, sniffing hesitantly. “Oranges? Loquats? The tang of tomato vines in the rain? Dale, it’s all three smells combined. I don’t know what it is!”
The forest on either side of them hurtled by, the superway trembling beneath the weight of the speeding jetcar. As abruptly as the smell had come, it vanished, and they were once again breathing Mongo’s slightly saline air, with its additional units of nitrogen.
Dale opened her mouth to cry out, but gripped Flash’s arm instead. “My ears!”
Flash held onto the wheel of the jetcar. “Mine, too!” he cried. “It’s not a sound, it’s an agonizing pain! What is it?”
“I can’t stand the vibrations.”
“Overtones! Beyond the audibility range of the human ear,” gasped Flash, straining to keep from screaming. “It’s some extremely high vibration, a fantastically powerful resonance, some tremendous shaking.”
“My head!” Dale slumped into the plyoform cushion. Her eyes closed.
Then, as quickly as it had come, the pain left Flash’s ears.
Dale opened her eyes and sat up.
“It’s all over,” Flash muttered. “What do you think it was?”
“First a weird smell, and then that sound you can’t even hear.” Dale trembled. “I don’t think we should have come here today, Flash.”
“Nonsense!” said Flash. “It’s just your imagination.”
Dale never had a chance to respond.
The jetcar swerved and tore away from Flash’s iron control. He twisted the steering wheel over and over to the left, but the zarcar continued of its own accord to the right, careening off the ribbon of superway, slashing through the blue forest into the lavender-and-orange mists.
“We’re going to crash!” screamed Dale. “Look out!”
Flash tore at the wheel frantically. The jetcar did not respond.
He could hear the cacophony of tortured metal, then the smash of plyoglass, the burning of plyolact left on the copoly-petrol surface, and the wrenching screech of impact as they hit.
The giant forest plants above them wavered. The plyoglass windscreen seemed to melt like ice sheets in a nuclear blast. The zarcar turned over on the forest growth and came to a shuddering, jolting halt.
“Flash!” screamed Dale.
Then there was absolute silence.
CHAPTER 2
In the measureless dimension of the primeval forest there was almost complete quiescence. Flash opened his eyes and found himself staring into Mongo’s yellowish clay-colored sky. The branches of the giant plants waved in a sudden movement of air over the surface of the planet.
Instantly he recalled the crash of the jetcar and Dale’s cry. Shaking his head to rid it of the brief pain he had suffered, he sat up. Dale was slumped against the plyoform-cushioned interior. Her eyes were closed. Flash could not see any wounds on her skin.
“Dale,” he called anxiously.
His voice seemed to hang in the air. The sound reverberated and echoed for a moment, repeating itself again and again. Then it faded away.
Flash raised his head and looked around.
The plyoglass conetop of the zarcar had been thrown aside by the shock of its impact with an enormous fern stalk a good eight feet across. The jetcar’s chassis was lying on its side, wedged between two upthrusts of a shalelike rock that was probably drogue ore, the type of mineral Mongo’s scientific fraternity used to formulate drogiron, a kind of annealed steel.
“Dale!”
She stirred and opened her eyes. “Flash!”
“Are you all right?” Flash asked anxiously, shaking her by the arm.
“Yes.” She blinked. “I seem to be alive. That’s the main thing.” She glanced around. “What happened?”
“I lost control,” said Flash ruefully. “The jetcar just went off the superway.”
Dale raised her head and tried to look out through the windscreen. “It’s so quiet out there,” she murmured.
“I’m going to get out of the car and see if I can find out what went wrong. Are you all right now?”
“Yes, yes,” said Dale impatiently. “Don’t worry about me.”
Flash reached toward the doorhandle and tugged at it. The jetcar had landed half on its side and half on its frame. It lay at a forty-five-degree angle. The sudden redistribution of Flash’s weight when he moved caused the hulk to creak and groan and settle to the left. The frame crashed down onto the forest surface with a heavy thump and a sigh. Dust motes boiled up.
Flash unbuttoned the doorpack and pulled out a handkerchief. He held it over his nose for protection.
“Dusty,” he said.
Flash opened the driver’s door and climbed out of the jetcar, glancing up and down the length of the forest as he did so. Birds, beasts—every live thing had been frightened away by the noise of the crash. In the distance an alardactyl wheeled in a silvery arc, catching the glint of Mongo’s mustard sun at zenith, and plunged into the lavender foliage.
Dale sat up and began patting her hair back into place. She called out, “I’ll try to use the laserphone to contact Arboria.”
“Right,” said Flash.
He slammed the driver’s door shut and stood by the side of the zarcar, looking down at the wheels in amazement. Or rather he found himself looking down at the portion of the jetcar where the wheels were supposed to be.
There were none there!
Flash straightened and glanced about him in dismay. The wheels had apparently been torn off by the crash. He frowned and walked around the jetcar to view the other side. There he stood in perplexity.
“What is it, Flash?” Dale asked. She was looking out through her window at him in surprise.
“The wheels were torn off—actually torn off!”
“Torn off?” Dale repeated. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“It certainly doesn’t.” The dust that boiled up around the car had settled now. Flash went down on his knees to examine a small pile of it that lay near the off-rear-wheel vent.
He picked up a handful of the very fine dust and held it in his palm. With his left forefinger and thumb he pinched a bit of it and rubbed it between his fingertips. He could feel its strange consistency—not sand, not dirt. Nor was it actually dust.
It was pulverized—finely pulverized—metal of some kind!
“Dale!” Flash cried. “The dust we saw. It isn’t dust at all. It’s some kind of metallic powder.”
“Metallic powder?”
Flash got down on his stomach and peered in at the bottom of the jetcar’s frame. And instantly he knew what had happened.
“I can’t believe it! The whole suspension system of the car—the shocks, the axles, the springs, everything under the car—is gone!”
Dale leaned out the window and stared at the ground where the pile of dust lay. “Maybe that’s what the dust is.”
Flash rose, his
eyes narrowed. “That’s what I’m thinking too. Sure. Powdered metal. The entire suspension system has been turned to dust!” He stood there, looking back down the superway from where they had come. He could see one of the wheels made of zarplast—a special plastic Zarkov had formulated out of Mongo’s minerals—lying in the middle of the roadway with its plyolact tire intact “But look! The tire is perfectly all right.”
Dale climbed out. The jetcar rocked slightly as she jumped to the ground and came over to stand by Flash.
“Maybe that was what we smelled—the metal turning to dust. And that high-pitched inaudible sound may have been what caused it to disintegrate.”
Flash nodded. “It’s a logical assumption. Did you get anyone on the laserphone?”
“It’s gone dead.”
“The laser rod is mounted to the frame of the jetcar,” said Flash musingly. “I suppose the rod was pulverized, too.”
Dale lifted her head. “Sh!” She was poised alertly, frowning. “Did you hear that?”
“I heard nothing,” said Flash, staring at the mound of dust in his hand. “Look. If this is metal fatigue, it is the tiredest metal I’ve ever seen. Frankly, I’m stumped. The entire suspension system, everything made out of metal, has simply disintegrated into dust. What happened to it? Is there some poisonous effluvia in the air? Did that resonating sound we heard affect the metal? What turned it to dust? A laser ray? An antimatter beam?”
“Well, we’ll have to ask Dr. Zarkov when we see him,” Dale said brightly. “I’m sure he’d love to tell us.”
Flash brooded at the wrecked car. “Maybe his design had a few flaws in it.”
“This isn’t getting us any nearer to Arboria. If we’re going to have to walk, we’d better start. It’s a long way.”
Flash rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We didn’t meet anyone on the superway, did we? I mean there’s not much hope of getting a lift, is there?”
Dale shook her head.
“Then let’s get going.”
“Flash! Look out!” screamed Dale.
Flash pivoted quickly. He saw nothing, but suddenly he sensed a high-pitched resonance in the air similar to the vibrations he and Dale had felt when the jetcar had bucked. Instinctively he clapped his hands to his ears. His head felt as if it were being pressed between two boulders.
