Captain Future 07 - The Magician of Mars (Summer 1941)

by Edmond Hamilton

  “This creature has just been stabbed by a hunter!” Captain Future exclaimed. “See, the wound’s still bleeding. The thing must have been running away from its hunter —”

  “I hear footsteps now!” Grag declared, interrupting him.

  Curt Newton at once drew the robot back with him into a shadowy recess at the side of the chasm. They waited tensely.

  From ahead there appeared a hurrying human figure. It was a young man, whose skin was a faint yellowish white. He was garbed in a short tunic of woven lichen-fibers and carried a long hunting knife.

  The hunter uttered a low cry of triumph as he perceived the dead cave-spider. He bent eagerly over his prey, examining it with eyes that Curt Newton saw had extraordinarily large black pupils. Then, as he examined the dead creature, the hunter uttered a cry of amazement.

  “Grag, we’ll grab him — but don’t hurt him!” Curt whispered.

  The two suddenly leaped out on either side of the hunter. The man whirled instantly and drove his knife at Grag’s breast. But the knife clattered off the metal chest of the robot. The hunter seemed so stupefied by Grag that it was easy for Curt to seize him before he could make further resistance.

  Captain Future spoke quickly to the man.

  “We are your friends, and will not harm you.”

  Curt spoke in the oldest form of the Uranian language, hoping that the man would understand. His hope was rewarded, for after a moment the wild-faced hunter answered in a tongue that was vaguely similar.

  “Who are you?” he demanded. “And who is this giant metal one?”

  “How come you can talk the language of these People of Darkness, Chief?” Grag asked astonishedly of Captain Future. “It’s the old Uranian language,” Curt told him. “The People of Darkness are supposed to be Uranians who fled down into these caverns ages ago from enemies. I figured they’d still speak a variant of the old language.”

  “We are from above,” he told the hunter. “The metal one is your friend as I am, though his body is not of flesh.”

  “No men from above are our friends!” declared the hunter emphatically. “We kill them whenever they come down into the caves.”

  Captain Future had had long experience in dealing with primitive planetary peoples, and knew what line to take.

  “You could not kill us, for we could slay all your people instantly with our weapons such as killed this cave-spider,” Curt said firmly. “And the metal one beside me could destroy you with his bare hands.”

  Grag took his cue. He extended his mighty metal arms above his head, then drummed with his great fists upon his metal breast to make a thunderous clangor. At the same time, he shouted deafeningly in his booming mechanical voice.

  “I’m Grag, the toughest guy in all the nine worlds!” he howled. “I push planets around and eat moons for breakfast!”

  The hunter was utterly impressed by Grag’s performance. He looked with deep awe at the mighty robot. And though Curt had now released the man, he made no effort to escape.

  “The metal one is indeed mighty,” muttered the Darkness man.

  “But he is your friend, as I am,” Curt said quickly. “Now take us to your village, for we wish to visit your people.”

  The hunter nodded. He picked up the slain cave-spider, with a great effort, to pack it home. Grag nonchalantly took the heavy beast from him with one hand, slung it effortlessly over his shoulder. More impressed than ever, the hunter led the way back along the chasm through which he had come.

  THEY passed out of the chasm into other caverns, traversing a bewildering labyrinth of cavernous spaces and crevices.

  “How come we’re visiting this fellow’s village?” Grag asked Captain Future. “We haven’t time for exploring, have we?”

  “This isn’t idle exploring, you idiot,” retorted Curt Newton. “This fellow’s people may be able to tell us the quickest route down to the radite cavern. It’d be faster than finding our way by compass.”

  The hunter appeared to know his way through every crevice.

  “He seems to see in this darkness better even than I can,” Grag commented.

  “Sure, didn’t you notice his eyes?” Curt replied. “These People of Darkness have evolved to fit this environment. They’ve developed eyes with super-large pupils capable of gathering every ray of light.”

  Soon their new companion led them out into a very large, dim cavern. Along one side of it raced the underground river.

  “There is the village of my people,” pointed the hunter.

  It was a queer village. The “houses” were without roofs or walls, for shelter was unnecessary in the warm, dry caverns. Each house was in fact nothing but a square marked out along a straggling street, each square containing the weapons and other belongings of a single family.

  Curt noticed long, slim boats of crude hammered metal drawn up along the shore of the river. He guessed that these People of Darkness subsisted on the fish they caught, the animals they hunted, and the edible spore-pods of the great lichens.

  There were scores of the People of Darkness in the dim village. Men, women and children were all garbed in tunics of lichen-fiber. The men rose in alarm and grabbed their spears as Curt and his companions appeared.

  “These two are friends!” called the hunter to his alarmed folk.

  A white-haired oldster who was evidently the chief of the village spoke to Curt’s companion.

  “Why do you bring men from above here?” he demanded. “All men above are our enemies. It was they who long ago made us take refuge here.”

  “We are your friends,” Curt Newton said quickly. “We are ourselves the enemies of those who forced your ancestors to flee down here.”

  Curt reflected that the race that had once forced these people to take flight into the caves had perished centuries past, anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to say that he was the enemy of that race — as indeed, he would have been had it happened in his own time.

  His declaration seemed convincing. The People of Darkness regarded the two with less hostility.

  “If you are an enemy of our ancient persecutors, you are indeed our friends,” the old chief declared. “You are welcome among us. You shall live here with us, and hunt and fish with us the rest of your lives.”

  “Some prospect, that,” grunted Grag when Curt had translated.

  CAPTAIN FUTURE spoke earnestly to the old man.

  “Much as we would like to do so, we can’t remain here. But we ask your help. We seek to find a certain cavern in which is a great deposit of a shining blue mineral.”

  He described radite to them. The old chief nodded understandingly.

  “I know that place in which the blue mineral exists. But it is far, far down in the caverns, farther than we ordinarily ever venture. The river in this cave flows down through that distant cavern, too.”

  “What is the shortest way to the radite cavern?” Curt asked.

  “There is no short way. It will take you very long to find your way to it.”

  Curt felt dismayed. Then a daring thought entered his mind.

  “You said this river flows down to the radite cavern? Then we could borrow one of your boats and float down in it to that cavern.”

  “That would be taking a fearful risk,” the old chief exclaimed. “Not far below here there are terrible rapids and cataracts in the river, into which we never dare venture in our boats.”

  “We’re going to venture — we’ve got to!” Captain Future retorted. “If you’ll lend us a boat —”

  “We will give you one,” said the old chief, “for you will never live to return it.” He led the way sadly toward the river-bank.

  “Cheerful old cuss,” chuckled Curt as he and Grag followed. Presently Curt was inspecting the boat the People of Darkness had united. It was a canoe-like craft twelve feet long, made of hammered metal. It had two heavy metal paddles.

  CURT took his place in its bow. Grag hopped “in beside him. They grasped the paddles, and with a hand-wave to the Peop
le of Darkness, Curt pushed out into the current.

  “Farewell, friends from above!” called the old chief. “It is a pity you have to go and get killed before we know you better.”

  “Some send-off!” grinned Captain Future. “Paddle, Grag!

  We’ve got to keep from being dashed against the cliffs!”

  The racing black current was already bearing them at great speed down the length of the cavern. The foaming waters entered a large tunnel at the end of the cave, and into that they were borne at increased velocity.

  The low roof of the tunnel echoed back the roar of the waters. Captain Future had set his infra-red searchlight in the bow to stab its beam ahead and show them rocks and ledges. To be dashed against one at this speed would mean destruction.

  Faster and faster roared the raging current, bearing them down toward the depths of the planet through winding tunnels and dim, vast caves. They were soon traveling at such speed that the rock walls about them were only a dim blur. Showers of spray dashed Curt’s face, and his adventure-loving soul felt keenly the intoxicating excitement of the moment.

  They shot into a broad, long tunnel where the waters foamed white in raging rapids. Great rocks protruded from the foam like menacing fangs, and the current seemed fiendishly intent on hurling their little craft against the obstacles.

  “To the right, Grag — paddle harder!” Curt yelled back to the robot over the roar of the rapids.

  “I can’t keep her steady in this current!” Grag shouted.

  Curt’s laugh pealed back.

  “Don’t say that! Remember, you’re Grag the mighty, the fellow who pushes planets around. Paddle!”

  They whirled sickeningly down through the foaming stretches, grazing rocks, whipping past obstacles barely visible in the dim light. A moment later they plunged into a new series of rapids. But when they had won through those, they were in comparatively smoother water.

  “I think we’re past the worst!” Curt called. “But — what’s that?”

  From ahead came a dim thunder that was growing louder by the second, a frightening booming toward which they were swiftly racing. Then Curt saw that the tunnel ahead debouched into a sheer, empty abyss. The river tumbled down into that vast space in a thundering waterfall.

  “Paddle back, or we’ll go over that fall!” Curt yelled.

  They paddled madly, but it was too late. The irresistible current swept them on. Their boat poised a moment on the brink of the vague abyss, then plunged sickeningly over the edge.

  Chapter 9: Across Dimensions

  CURT NEWTON had only a momentary glimpse of a vast, vaguely lit cavernous abyss into which the river tumbled for almost a hundred feet. Then the little metal boat went over the brink of the fall.

  Thunderous waters roared in Curt’s ears as he and Grag were tossed dizzily from the boat. Turning over and over as he fell among the plunging waters, Captain Future glimpsed a great foaming pool rushing up at him. He straightened, struck the pool like a diver.

  He went deep down into the seething waters, the shock of impact almost stunning him. Then he fought up to the surface, his lungs bursting as he struggled against the whirling currents. He broke surface and found himself being whirled crazily around by the eddying currents of the pool.

  There was no sign of Grag or the boat. Yet Curt did not try to search for his companion. He struck out in great strokes that soon brought him to the rocky shore of the pool. There he stood, panting.

  “The People of Darkness weren’t fooling when they said this river is dangerous,” Curt muttered to himself, ruefully.

  Captain Future sat down on the rocky shore and waited. He wasn’t worried about Grag. He knew Grag would have sunk to the bottom of the pool like a stone, but the robot couldn’t drown for he didn’t breathe.

  Soon, Curt saw a — dripping metal figure come up out of the pool. It was Grag. The big robot was walking up out of the water, dragging the metal boat with him. He had also secured the paddles.

  “Well, Grag, that was fun, wasn’t it?” Curt greeted him.

  “Fun?” cried the robot. Then he indulged in some of his choicest interplanetary profanity. “If that’s your idea of fun, may I be cut up and sold for scrap! I was walking around, down on the bottom of that pool, trying to find the boat and paddles. A big water-snake coiled around me and I had the devil of a time getting rid of it. And you call it fun!”

  “I was only joking, Grag,” Captain Future chuckled. “Haven’t you any sense of humor?”

  “My sense of humor doesn’t cover crazy expeditions like this one,” Grag growled. “I knew something like this would happen.”

  “Come on, we’ve got to get on,” Curt told him, entering the boat and grasping a paddle. “I hope we don’t hit any more waterfalls.”

  “If we do, I get out and walk!” threatened Grag.

  They pushed off again upon the underground river. The infra-red searchlight which Curt had had in its bow was lost, as was his compass. But he paddled resolutely on down the strange waterway. They encountered more rapids. But when they had won past these, the river ran smooth and fast through very high tunnels and caves.

  “We’re very deep down in the caves now,” Curt called back to the sulky robot. “We should have reached the radite cavern by now.”

  “Probably we’ve lost our way and will drift on down till we reach the center of Uranus,” prophesied Grag gloomily. “A nice prospect!”

  They shot out of the long tunnel they were traversing into a big, elongated cavern that was more brightly illuminated than any yet.

  “Those are krypton lights ahead!” Captain Future exclaimed. “Paddle over to shore, Grag. We’ve found Ul Quorn’s base!”

  Curt and the robot paddled furiously to get their craft to shore before they were carried down past those lighted buildings. By herculean efforts they won out of the racing current and pulled the boat up among the big boulders that rimmed the shore.

  Captain Future and Grag crouched down behind a towering boulder and peered intently at the little community a thousand feet down the cavern.

  “It’s Quorn’s workshop, all right,” Curt muttered. “Look at that ship.”

  “Melt me down!” exclaimed Grag. “Only the Magician of Mars would have a lair down here inside Uranus!”

  THEY could clearly see a large space ship whose torpedolike metal bulk loomed amid the small metal shacks.

  “That’s Quorn’s big new dimension-shifting cruiser!” Captain Future said tensely. “And it looks about complete. Quorn must be nearly ready now to start on his treasure expedition into the other universe.”

  “How’re we going to stop him, Chief?” whispered Grag. “Shall we burst out on ‘em and gun ‘em down?”

  “Too many of them for that,” Curt retorted. “We’ve got two things to do here. First, we have to see if they’ve got young Johnny Kirk here. Then we have to make sure that that new ship doesn’t depart.”

  Curt loosened his proton pistol in its holster.

  “I’m going to steal a little closer and reconnoiter. You wait here —”

  “Look, Chief!” Grag whispered suddenly. “Someone’s coming!”

  A figure could be seen stealing toward them along the bank of the river. The smallness of the figure and its stealth were puzzling.

  “Holy sun-imps, it’s Johnny Kirk!” Grag muttered bewilderedly.

  Curt laughed softly.

  “That boy has stuff in him. He’s found a way somehow to escape. Let him come on, Grag — but grab him before he can utter any cry. He might give us away, in his surprise.”

  Johnny Kirk was coming straight toward them along the boulder-strewn bank of the river. The sturdy figure of the Earth youngster kept as much as possible in the shadow of the big boulders. Then as Johnny reached the boulder behind which Curt and Grag crouched, the robot suddenly grabbed the youngster and put one metal hand over his face to smother his cry of alarm.

  “It’s Captain Future, Johnny!” Curt whispered quickly to
the struggling youngster. “Don’t make any outcry.”

  Grag released the boy. In the dim light, Johnny’s belligerent young face showed his astonishment and joy. But he tried to appear casual.

  “Aw, I knew you’d get here, Captain Future,” he declared. He turned to Grag. “What’s the idea trying to choke me, huh?”

  Curt explained rapidly to the youngster how he and Grag had come. And in turn, Johnny Kirk related the means of his escape.

  “I always figured that kit of Martian burglar tools I won would come in handy some day,” the youngster finished. “I did as good as a Futureman would do, didn’t I? Can’t I be one of your gang now?”

  Curt Newton chuckled.

  “Johnny, you’re a little young for that. Suppose we put you down as a Future-Futureman, eh?”

  “You mean maybe some day you’ll take me on as a real Futureman?” the youngster asked eagerly. “Swell!”

  “Tell me what you’ve found out about Quorn’s plans,” Curt asked.

  The boy shook his head. “Not much, I think he’s ready to go off in that new ship. They’ve been loading it with that blue-shining rock they dig from the big mass over yonder.”

  “If Quorn’s stocking the craft with radite, he’s about ready to take off into the co-existing universe,” Curt muttered. “He’s got to be stopped, even if —”

  A distant cry of alarm interrupted. It came from one of Quorn’s men.

  “That’s Thikar, who was my guard!” Johnny Kirk whispered. “He’s found out that I’ve escaped.”

  Captain Future saw men come running toward the Jovian, Thikar. Then — Curt glimpsed a slender, turbaned figure in a purple Martian robe. His fists clenched as he recognized the man.

  “Ul Quorn himself!” he muttered. “The Magician of Mars, at last.”

  He could hear Quorn’s angry voice. “Thikar, you’re an idiot to have allowed that boy to escape. You and Xexel hunt for him. He can’t have got far. The rest of you keep on loading the radite into the Nova.”

  The big Jovian and an old Saturnian obeyed the order. They started in opposite directions along the cavern, flashing hand-searchlights among the boulders as they searched.