Flash Gordon 4 - The Time Trap of Ming XIII

by Alex Raymond

  The globe whirred and muttered and moved about in the air lazily. The pendulum trembled.

  Flash strapped on one of the time-travel belts and set the readouts to the grid coordinates of the palace.

  “Here I come, Prince Barin,” he said expectantly, and pressed the space button.

  CHAPTER 26

  As Flash vanished from sight, Zarkov rubbed his eyes and tugged his beard angrily.

  “I never saw anything like it. Wish I’d invented that time gadget.”

  “Can’t we get out of here now, Doc? There’s no use staying around any longer, is there?” Dale asked worriedly.

  “I suppose not,” Zarkov hefted the blaster pistol thoughtfully. “What do we do with this? Blast our way out, no doubt. But how?”

  “Whatever we do, we’d better do it quickly,” Sari said impatiently. “I’ve simply got to get in touch with the intelligence minister.”

  “Dale, will you and Sari cover the cell door there? I want to try this blaster on the wall. Didn’t Flash use this to disintegrate material?”

  “Yes,” Dale said. “I don’t know if it’ll work on stones, though. It has to be living matter.”

  “Oh,” Zarkov said disappointedly. “Well, anyway, here goes.”

  Dale and Sari moved to the cell door and looked out into the corridor. “Go ahead, Doc. There’s nobody in sight.”

  Zarkov flipped on the blaster pistol and aimed it at the stone wall. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then, as he was about to turn it off, he saw a tiny cloud of smoke curling up from the mortar in between the klang rocks.

  “That mortar!” Zarkov exclaimed. “Look!”

  Dale moved over to the wall. “That’s right! There must be something living mixed in with the mortar. Perhaps it’s a kind of reconstituted wood used for adhesive. I don’t know how this place is put together, but that mortar seems to be going all right.”

  Zarkov moved closer to the wall. “Great! I’ll burn out all the mortar I can, and then we can loosen the stones and pull them out.”

  A smell of burning wood and plastic adhesive permeated the air. Sari and Dale kept their eyes glued to the corridor for the appearance of any guards.

  “The stench is enough to flush out every man in the colony,” Dale said anxiously.

  Zarkov laid down the blaster pistol and wrestled with a stone at the lower end of the wall. It gave way and tumbled out onto the floor of the cell.

  Beyond the stone lay a wall of mortar.

  Zarkov aimed the blaster pistol at the mortar and squeezed hard.

  Smoke rose, followed by a foul stench. Suddenly, a bit of light came in from beyond.

  “Light!” Zarkov cried. “Look!”

  He peered through the hole. He saw gleaming piles of metallic materials, and beyond that something resembling a large airborne saucer.

  “Dale,” he whispered, moving back into the cell. “We’re right next to the flight shop. They’ve got a space saucer in there.”

  Dale’s eyes widened. “Let’s go through.”

  Zarkov loosened two more stones. There was now crawl-space.

  After squirming through, Zarkov pulled Dale and Sari after him. They found themselves in a large deserted workroom filled with flying equipment.

  At the end of the assembly line stood a roomy fourcap saucer, that is, a flying saucer with capacity for four passengers. Beyond the work area, a sliding door, made of glass and metal, folded up into the ceiling. It was now closed.

  Zarkov moved quickly over to the door and peered out.

  “A guard,” he hissed, pointing.

  Dale looked.

  A blue man dressed in the familiar crimson cloak and red skullcap stood at the end of a large flat terrace attached to the flight shop.

  Zarkov pondered. “I can zap the guard with the blaster. He’ll call someone else, if he has time. By then, we should be able to get this saucer going.”

  Dale shivered. “Do you really think so?”

  “We’ll have to find out, won’t we?” Zarkov said cheerfully.

  He climbed in the saucer and looked at the console. “It’s one of those Emperor. Ming jobs of five years ago. No problem. It burns lox. And the supply canister is full. Come on, girls, climb in. I’ll shove that door open and we’ll get out of here before you can say Jack Robinson.”

  When Zarkov pressed the energizer for the door, it moved silently up into its slot in the ceiling. The movement attracted the guard, who wheeled and walked toward the open flight shop.

  Zarkov aimed the blaster in his direction and squeezed the activator. The blue man staggered, threw up his arms, and fell to the ground.

  Zarkov ran across the floor to the saucer, jumped through the hatch, and pushed the buttons on the console. The saucer responded, throbbed, and moved toward the doorway on the lox piles that blasted out from the rocket ports below.

  When they emerged onto the terrace outside the flight shop, Zarkov saw that there was unlimited flying space all around. He activated the ascension rockets, the lox piles responded immediately, and the saucer rose into the air.

  “Would you look at that!” Zarkov exclaimed, pointing out through the bubbleglass viewport. “They’ve built their whole plant in a huge pocket of the great jungle.”

  It was true. The colony of Cerulea was small, but it was spread out in a flat valley that ended abruptly in towering bluffs that rose for hundreds and hundreds of feet. In short, Cerulea was built at the bottom of an enormous pit, perhaps a quarter of a mile below the surface of the earth.

  Dale nodded. “It’s below the level of the trees, isn’t it?”

  Zarkov glanced up and saw the sky. “Yes, you see the trees at the top of the pit against the skyline. It’s hazy there, too, but you can feel the warmth of the sun. They probably extract some energy from the sun, too.”

  The saucer moved upward and was now just below the level of the forest around it. They moved into a thicker haze now. It seemed almost greenish in color.

  At the landing terrace below them, Zarkov heard a saucer revving up. “They’re coming after us,” he bellowed. “We’ve got to hurry.”

  Suddenly, they were in the air above the forest and there was no more mist. Zarkov glanced down to get his bearings. The city of Cerulea had vanished from sight in a cluster of trees!

  Dale gasped. “Doc! The city’s gone!”

  Zarkov looked down and then he saw that the forest directly below them did not look genuine when examined closely.

  “Haze,” Zarkov said. “They’ve camouflaged the whole establishment of Cerulea with a kind of eternal mist.”

  “And how does that work?” Sari asked.

  “From the top, you can’t see down into the area where Cerulea lies. I think they’ve set up projectors on both sides of the area.”

  “Projectors?” Dale repeated.

  “Right. And they’re projecting a holograph of a dense woods onto the mist. The three-dimensional picture makes you see trees where they don’t exist.”

  “And that keeps anyone up here from seeing the city down there—but how come we couldn’t see the picture above when we were below?” Sari asked.

  “The bright sunlight above cuts through the holograph,” Zarkov explained. “But from above, looking down into a darkened pit, the holograph is backed up by a black background and all you see is the woods of the projected visualization.”

  “But why go to all that trouble?” Dale asked in confusion.

  “Secrecy,” Sari responded. “We’ve been looking for them for a long time, I mean, the prince’s agents.”

  “Right,” Zarkov agreed. He peered down into the forest and saw a wavering silver line. “There’s the superway. We haven’t far to go.”

  “Are you heading for Arboria?” Sari asked.

  “No, I want to see that Tempendulum. Scientific curiosity.” Zarkov grinned.

  “You’re not the only one,” Sari said.

  “Huh?”

  She pointed to the rear of the saucer. Zar
kov peered out. He saw two shapes—gleaming golden shapes in the form of flat poker chips. Two more flying vehicles.

  “They’re following us,” Dale said nervously.

  Zarkov nodded curtly.

  CHAPTER 27

  Prince Barin slowly crumpled the paper in his hand and held it in front of his chest. He turned to Minister Hamf and spoke sharply.

  “Blue men, indeed. Who sent out this madman’s message?”

  Hamf was properly deferential. “It was one of my most trusted agents, Your Excellency.”

  “Indeed,” Barin snapped. “Zarkov warned me to pay attention to your reports. Perhaps I should.” He thrust his hands behind him and paced back and forth a moment. “And where is Zarkov, anyway? He went out of here hours ago, said he’d keep in touch, and I haven’t heard a word from him.”

  “I’ve been keeping the lines of communication open, sire,” Hamf said.

  “Any word of Flash Gordon and Dale Arden?” Prince Barin asked hopefully. He crossed to the window to look down into the capital’s square.

  “No, Your Excellency,” Hamf said regretfully. “Perhaps they, too, fell into the hands of this strange group of undesirables.”

  “Perhaps, perhaps,” Prince Barin said impatiently. “I don’t know what to think about this. What am I to do—postpone the ceremonies which start in twenty minutes? Send out a scouting expedition to wipe out these blue men your man has found? Tell me, Hamf, what do I do?”

  Hamf shook his head. “It’s a difficult decision to make, Your Excellency. Although we have known for some time that there was a buildup of undesirables in the forest kingdom, we have been unable to spot where they might live. Now that we know there are those blue men—wherever they come from—we do not yet know where they now live.”

  “Fine, fine,” Barin replied sarcastically. “Then we’ve nothing to go on. I simply cannot cancel the celebration. It would raise too many eyebrows in the kingdom. They’d think something serious is happening to the government.”

  Hamf murmured contritely, “Yes, Your Excellency.”

  “Oh, go on—get out of here! And don’t come back until you can bring me some good news about Zarkov or Flash Gordon. Or something decent.”

  Hamf bowed and removed himself quickly from the throne room. Prince Barin stood at the window and gazed out over the crowd in the square. The people seemed to be massing in large numbers. It was obvious that they wanted to celebrate the liberation of the entire planet of Mongo from the grip of Ming the Merciless.

  Prince Barin glanced at his digital dock by the window and noted that he had only a few more minutes before he was scheduled to make his appearance.

  He turned and at that instant the door opened once again. Hamf was back.

  “Didn’t I tell you not to come back here until you could bring me good news?” Prince Barin demanded.

  Hamf said nothing, but simply stepped to one side.

  Flash Gordon strode in, his blond hair glistening in the light.

  “Prince Barin,” Flash cried, extending his right hand and striding vigorously across the palace floor.

  “Flash!” Prince Barin cried, his voice friendly and his good nature restored. “You’re here at last!”

  “Had a few minor delays on the way,” Flash replied, grinning.

  “And where is the beautiful Dale Arden?” Prince Barin asked in his courtly way.

  “It’s a complicated story,” Flash said, stroking his chin. “But she’s safe. I do know that.”

  Prince Barin laughed. “Dr. Zarkov was so worried about you that he went out in an airscout to find you.”

  “I know,” Flash said quietly.

  “You’ve seen him?” Prince Barin asked in surprise.

  “Yes,” said Flash. “He’s with Dale. And a girl named Sari.”

  Hamf cleared his throat at the doorway. “She’s one of mine.”

  Prince Barin turned in annoyance. “Are you still here? I thought I told you to go back to your decoder machines.”

  “Yes, sire,” Hamf said obsequiously, and bowed himself out again.

  “Well,” asked Prince Barin, “where are Dale and Zarkov?”

  Flash cleared his throat. “Prince Barin, sit down for a moment, will you? This isn’t a simple story that I’m going to tell you.”

  Prince Barin frowned. “If I must, I must.”

  “You must—if you want to hear the truth,” Flash said gently.

  They sat together in cellulogorm chairs at the side of the room and Flash told Prince Barin as tersely and as completely as he could what had happened not only to him but to Dale and to Dr. Zarkov and to Sari as well.

  Prince Barin was visibly aroused when Flash had finished. He rose and paced back and forth in agitation.

  “Good lord! It simply doesn’t seem possible! Men from the future? Blue warriors from Ming’s laboratories? All trying to destroy the forest kingdom.”

  “It’s possible, all right,” Flash said gravely. “Now we’ve got to act.”

  Prince Barin nodded. “I’m going out there and announce to my people that we have been having a great deal of trouble on the border. I’m sure they’ll support me if I call for troops and military supplies.”

  Flash held up his hand. “No, I don’t want you to go out there at all.”

  Prince Barin’s chest swelled out. “I’m the ruler of this kingdom, Flash. I must go out there.”

  “I don’t mean to contradict you, Prince Barin,” Flash said slowly. “You’ve got to remember I’m from a democracy where we all have our say. I want you to let me go out there on that balcony. Then we’ll see what Ming XIII’s henchmen do.”

  Prince Barin’s eyes lighted up. “I see what you mean! When they see Flash Gordon, the man Ming XIII had promised to take care of, they might—”

  “—might kill me,” Flash interrupted, smiling.

  Prince Barin frowned. “Let’s see how they react,” he said. He stepped over to the window and looked down on the square. Thousands of forest-kingdom people milled about, looking up toward the balcony where Prince Barin soon would appear.

  Flash stood beside Prince Barin. He turned to shake hands with him.

  “Good luck, Flash,” Prince Barin said.

  Flash stepped through the French windows and walked across the balcony to the railing.

  He raised a hand in salute to the people.

  Wild cheering broke out in the large crowd. They knew Flash Gordon. “Flash!” they cried. “Flash!”

  Flash smiled and raised his hand again. His eyes moved over the crowd, trying to spot anyone who might resemble in dress or aspect either Kial or Lari. He did not see anyone.

  He took a deep breath and spoke.

  A hushed silence fell over the crowd.

  Now, thought Flash. If they’re going to kill me, now is the time . . .

  CHAPTER 28

  Orto was a young man in his twenties. Lanl was an older man, at least fifty. Both wore a disguise of hunter’s green. Both felt uncomfortable. Both stood in the crowd of forest-kingdom people who waited for the scheduled appearance of Prince Barin on the palace balcony.

  Orto glanced around nervously. “I don’t like it, Lanl. There’s something not quite right.”

  “You’re young. You’re eager. You’re unnerved. Don’t be that way. This is a waiting game. If you’re not up to it, let me do the job.”

  Orto shook his head vigorously. “I’m still worried about Gordon.”

  “Gordon, Gordon,” Lanl said disgustedly. “What’s so big about Gordon?”

  “He’s written up in all our history books as the greatest liberator ever to hit Mongo.”

  “Books are written by knaves and fools,” Lanl said cheerfully. “We’ll take care of history. Just follow orders and we’ll get Prince Barin. In spite of the readouts in the Annals of Time.”

  “Aren’t you afraid of Gordon?”

  “Certainly, I’m afraid of Gordon. Didn’t I insist that Ming have him taken care of by another time probe
?”

  “Well, then. Do you believe Ming succeeded?”

  Lanl shrugged. “We have to believe in something, don’t we, Orto?”

  Orto glanced furtively around. “Shh! I think people are listening to us.”

  “Then let’s not talk,” Lanl ordered.

  He stared up at the balcony where Prince Barin would appear. A flash of light reflected on a glass pane as someone opened the French doors.

  “Here he comes!” a spectator shouted.

  Lanl jabbed Orto in the ribs. “Come on.”

  Orto nodded. He moved quickly with the older man to the edge of the crowd. Lanl had removed a small miniray pistol from his tunic. Orto had one, too. They stood by a wall and waited.

  No one noticed them.

  No one saw the miniray pistols, for they were no larger than a ballpoint pen.

  The balcony doors opened and a figure stepped into the sunlight. Bright-yellow hair caught the light.

  “Yellow hair,” Lanl said in a choked voice.

  “It’s not Barin!”

  “It’s Gordon,” Lanl whispered. He shoved the miniray pistol into his tunic and grabbed Orto’s arm. “You were right The probe team didn’t take care of Gordon.”

  “Then the tape readout is true. Gordon survived whatever tactics Ming XIII brought to bear.”

  Lanl nodded, his eyes narrowed. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Where to?”

  “The Tempendulum. I want to get back to Ming to explain what happened.”

  “You think he’ll believe it?”

  Lanl shook his head. “We’ll have to talk fast.”

  “Flash! Flash!” the crowd chanted in unison.

  “My friends,” Flash Gordon said over the loudspeaker. “On an occasion like today, words are inadequate to express my affection and love for the people of the forest kingdom.”

  Orto and Lanl moved quickly away from the crowd and ran through a side street.

  “Guards!” a voice shouted suddenly, booming out over the sound of the crowd responding to Flash’s speech, “Seize those men!”

  It was Flash Gordon’s voice on the loudspeaker, interrupting his own speech.