“Looks innocent enough,” muttered Ezra. “You’d judge from this that he’s just what he claimed an ethnologist hipped on the idea that once there was a race of winged men on this planet.”
“Maybe,” Curt answered thoughtfully. “Look at these, Ezra.”
He had found two papers. One was a scrawled note in Martian handwriting.
Thank you for reading the manuscript of my “Legends of the Solar System, “ Doctor Graeme. Your criticisms are most welcome, and agree with those made by Doctor Zin Zibo when he read the ms. I am grateful for your expert assistance.
SUS URGAL
The other paper Captain Future had found was a receipted bill from an Ops company which rented rocket-fliers.
Captain Future went to the televisor and called the rocket flier company.
“Doctor Graeme rented a flier from us a few days ago, and took off in it this morning, heading north,” they told Curt. “No, we don’t know his destination. But he said he wanted a flier capable of non-stop flight to the north border of the Great Plains.”
Captain Future repeated the information to the old marshal, who dropped his jaw puzzledly.
“What would Graeme think he could find north of the Plains? There’s nothing up there but the Mistlands!”
“I know,” Curt said abstractedly. “We’ll investigate that angle later. Right now I want to see Sus Urgal.”
The building in which Sus Urgal, the Martian author, had his rooms was only a few blocks away. A secret Planet Police agent lounged outside.
“The Martian hasn’t been out all day,” the agent reported. “I’ve been watching the entrance.”
Captain Future and Ezra went up to the Martian’s rooms and rang the televis-announcer. They got no answer.
“I’ll bet Sus Urgal skipped, too!” exclaimed Ezra.
“We’ll soon see,” Curt said, and started working on lock.
In a few moments, they entered the rooms.
“Name o’ the Sun!” yelled the old marshal “Sus Urgal’s been murdered!”
The Martian author lay on the floor, his body hideously contorted, and stiffened. A glass needle projected from his neck.
Captain Future knelt swiftly.
“The Plutonian freezing venom!” he rapped out the same poison that was used on Zin Zibo!”
Sus Urgal’s face was ghastly, for the venom that had caused his blood to freeze had burst the capillary veins under his skin.
“Never saw a man killed by freezing venom look so horrible as that, and I’ve seen plenty on Pluto.” Ezra shuddered.
It’s because Sus Urgal was native of a smaller, lower gravity world than Pluto,” Curt explained. “His blood vessels were thinner, more lightly built. So his blood burst them when it froze.
CURT NEWTON’S brown face was taut, his eyes gray slits, as realized the implications of this new murder.
“But who could’ve done it?” cried the old marshal. “And why was he killed?”
Captain Future straightened and began a rapid search of the rooms. In a brazier, he found some charred papers that had recently been burned.
On a desk, he noticed a bulky manuscript in Martian writing. Its sheets had hastily been scattered. He snatched it up. It was titled, “Legends of the Solar System.”
Swiftly he leafed through it. It was a popular account of the more famous myths and legends of the nine worlds, which the Martian author had apparently spent years in collecting. There were chapters on the Sargasso Sea of Space, the legends about the Cities of the Ancients on Jupiter, the strange fables of fiery Sun-folk that are told on Mercury, and on many another weird myth of the System.
One chapter was headed, “The Fountain of Life.” Captain Future started reading aloud.
The Fountain of Life is one of the most fascinating of all the legends of the System, and it is one of the oldest, It has been current on my own native Mars for countless generations. Almost every other planet has some version of the story.
Briefly the legend is, that, hidden on one of the nine worlds, there is a miraculous Fountain whose glowing waters have the power of restoring youth to anyone who drinks them. Some versions of the tale assert that this Fountain is guarded by a race of winged people who let no one approach it, and who do not drink its waters themselves.
Since the beginning of interplanetary travel, men have sought on almost every world in the System for the legended Fountain. Some believed that it was on Mars, others that it was in the unknown lands north of the Fire Sea on Jupiter, others still that it was hidden in the vast ice-fields of distant Pluto.
For myself, I believe that if such a Fountain exists at all, it is on Saturn. For, while traveling in the extreme north of the ringed planet to collect legends about, the mysterious Mist-lands, I heard —
Captain Future stopped reading. The chapter ended abruptly there. The rest of the pages of that chapter were missing.
“The missing pages were burned by the murderer of Sus Urgal!” Curt declared. That’s why the Martian was killed. His book, if it had been published, might have given away the secret location of the Fountain, of Life. The murderer was too pressed for time to burn the whole manuscript. He just had line to destroy the vital pages.”
“But then the Fountain must be located somewhere in the north, near the Mistlands,” Ezra exclaimed. The old man’s eyes flashed. “An’ Martin Graeme’s gone, north! Graeme had read this manuscript and knew it contained a lead to the secret of the Fountain.”
Curt searched through the rest of Sus Urgal’s papers, He found a journal in which the Martian had kept an itinerary of his travels on Saturn in search of material for his book.
“According to this,” Curt stated, “Sus Urgal spent a few days in Tobor. That’s a little ranch-town in the extreme north of the Great Plains, not far from the edge of the Mistlands. Tobor must be where the Martian picked up whatever information he put in that chapter.”
“If we only knew what was, in those burned pages, we might know the Fountain’s location!” the old marshal cried. “Wonder if anybody else besides Graeme had read the manuscript”
“Zin Zibo had read it, according to the note we found in Graeme’s rooms,” reminded Captain Future.
“Yes, and Zin Zibo’s dead and on his way to Venus in his coffin” Ezra said dismally.
IT TOOK Curt only a moment to reach a decision. “What’s the name of that Venus liner on which Zin Zibo’s secretary was taking the Venusian’s body back home?” Curt asked.
“It’s the Space Blazer,” Ezra answered wonderingly.
“I’m going to put through a televisor call to that ship,” Captain Future told him.
“You think maybe Zin Zibo’s secretary read this manuscript too, and could tell us what was in the burned chapter?”
Instead of answering, Curt Newton went to the Martian’s body and drew out the venom-needle. He held it up.
“See the faint fingerprints on that plunger, Ezra?”
“Why, they’re an Earthman’s prints!” Ezra said. “No two planetary races’ have prints that’re at all alike. These are unmistakable.”
Captain Future nodded. “An Earthman killed Sus Urgal. The Police agent can describe any Earthmen who have been in here. See what he says, while I put through my call to the Space Blazer.”
Ezra Gurney hurried back down to the street. The Planet Police agent, appalled to hear of the murder, vehemently denied that any Earthman had entered the building.
“Not by this entrance, anyway,” the agent said. “But he could have entered by the tunnel driveway in a rocket-car, without me seeing him. The driveway wasn’t watched because Sus Urgal had no car.”
Captain Future came down and joined them at this moment, having finished his call to the distant Venus-bound space liner. Ezra gave him the agent’s report.
“We’ll see what the attendant in the rocket-car garage under the building has to say,” the scientific wizard determined. Beneath the apartment house was an underground garage in which were kep
t the rocket-cars of tenants. A tunnel driveway, out the rear of the building, was used to enter and leave it. A dull-faced Saturnian attendant came up to answer Captain Future’s sharp question.
“Yes, an Earthman drove in here just a little whole ago. He went upstairs, said he wanted to visit. Sus Urgal. The Martian told him over the televis-announcer to come on up.”
“What did the Earthman look like?”
“He was a blond, haggard lookin’ young fellow,” was the attendant’s answer.
“Thomas Keene!” Ezra said excitedly.
“”That’s it, Keene was his name,” the attendant replied. “I heard Sus Urgal say on the televis-announcer, “Come on up, Keene”!”
“Then Keene murdered Sus Urgal,” Ezra Gurney cried fiercely to Curt. “I knew Keene was the Life-lord!”
“Keen murdered the Martian, all right,” Curt said somberly. He added with intense bitterness: “I’ve been a blundering fool, not to see what was right under my nose all the time! Come on, Ezra.”
He led the way back to the Comet almost on the run. It was sunset again. A whole brief, ten-hour Saturnian day had passed.
When they entered the Comet, in its parking-place behind Government Building, they found Simon Wright intently analyzing a vial of the Lifewater. The opalescent liquid was boiling furiously in an atomic retort, while the Brain studied its spectrum. Grag was assisting the Brain.
Otho and Joan Randall sprang up eagerly to meet the red-haired scientific wizard and the old marshal.
“Things are rushing to a climax,” Curt rapped out: He told swiftly what had happened. “I know now who the Life-lord is.”
STUNNED, they were silent. Then everybody began talking.
“”It’s Graeme, isn’t it, Master?” Grag boomed. “The fact that Graeme has, flown north is proof enough.”
“You’re off your orbit a million miles!” Otho told the robot. “You heard what the chief said. Thomas Keene killed the Martian. That clinches it. Keene’s the devil behind the elixir traffic.
“Listen to me,” Captain Future said earnestly. “We’re working against time, and we’ve got to work from two different angles, to, miss no chance of smashing this cursed traffic at once. First, there’s the angle of this new headquarters the syndicate is using Rendezvous Two, as they call it. Where is it? We’ve got to find that out. And there’s a way in way in which we can find out.
“We know that the syndicate’s space ships are coming from the other worlds to get new consignments of the Lifewater. Those space ships, in obedience to the Life-lord’s general order, will land at Rendezvous Two if the ships could be trailed through space to Saturn, Rendezvous Two could be located in that way.”
“I get it Chief!” Otho interrupted. “We’ll go out in the Comet and lie in hiding off the Rings. When we spot one of the Saturn-bound syndicate ships, by listening for their secret-wave televisor calls, we’ll trail it right in to the rendezvous.”
“That’s the idea,” Captain Future nodded. “But you will do that, Otho. You, Grag and Simon, can continue his efforts to formulate an antidote for the Lifewater, at the same time.”
“You mean you’re not coming with us?” Otho demanded. “What’s the idea, Chief?’ What are you going to be doing?”
“I said there were two angles to work on,” Curt reminded. “I’m going to work the second. That’s the angle of the Fountain of Life’s location: It is probably not anywhere near the syndicate’s Rendezvous Two. But if I can find the Fountain, I’ll be able to grab the Life-lord when he comes there for the Lifewater.”
“But how can you hope to find the Fountain in any reasonable tune, lad?” asked the Brain.
“I have a strong clue to guide me now. The clue of the manuscript! Those burned pages held information about the Fountain’s location, true information, we know, even if Sus Urgal didn’t. For if it hadn’t been true, the Martian wouldn’t have been killed and the pages burned to conceal that clue. Sus Urgal got that information, whatever it was, in a little ranch-town named Tobor, in the north of the Great Plains, near the Mistlands.
“All right, I’m going up to Tobor in a fast rocket-flier, and find out what Sus Urgal discovered. It should lead me to the Fountain. If I do find the Fountain, I’ll have penetrated’ the inmost core of this damnable traffic.”
“But what are Ezra and I to do?” Joan Randall appealed. “Why can’t we go with you, Captain Future?”
Curt shook his head. “I want you to stay here. If the Futuremen can locate Rendezvous Two, they’ll televise you. You can answer with a flock of Police and smash the syndicate’s organization there, while I’m trying to pierce its heart at the Fountain.”
Ezra Gurney procured a fast rocket flier. Darkness had come. The great Rings and marching moons again were glorious to see. The old marshal and the lovely girl agent watched as Curt Newton and the Futuremen separated.
The Comet, with Grag and Otho and Simon aboard, lifted skyward. It shot out into space toward the gleaming rings.
The rocket-flier, with Captain Future at its helm, raced across the Ring-lit metropolis toward the far, mysterious north...
Chapter 14: Into the Mistlands
LIKE a meteor, hurtling at high altitude over the dim, rolling plains beneath the flaring Rings and moons of Saturn, Curt Newton’s speedy rocket-flier raced north.
Captain Future set the automatic pilot of the craft to maintain constant speed, attitude and direction. Then he stretched out in the cramped little cabin. Almost at once he fell asleep. Curt had not slept for many hours, and even his iron frame needed rest.
The drumming drone of the unfaltering rocket motor was like a lullaby. The red-haired planeteer was carried through the brilliant skies of Saturn. Swiftly he neared the enigmatic land where he hoped to come to grips with the master of the criminal syndicate.
Curt snapped into wakefulness hours later, to find it was morning. The flier was still throbbing northward:
He went to the controls and looked out. Far beneath, the unthinkably vast expanse of the Great Plains stretched in blue flatness to the distant horizons. He was almost at the north pole, for the Rings pale arc was low in the southern sky behind him.
“Can’t be far from that ranch-town, Tobor,” Curt estimated.
The grassy blue plains under him abounded with life. Great herds of horned Saturnian deer, purple animals that had eight slim legs and were incredibly fleet, were browsing, here and there on the plain. Curt glimpsed a herd stampeding as blue grass-tigers charged into it.
Now and then he sighted a lonely Saturnian ranch. These ranches were of vast size. Centering around cement or metal dwellings they contained herds of thousands of the vicious, blue, one-horned Saturnian cattle, guarded by herdsmen riding the black, eight-legged stads, or Saturnian horses.
Captain Future knew that the ranches of these vast plains were the greatest source of meat in the System. Space-ships took frozen beef from here to all the other worlds.
“Ah, there’s Tobor,” Curt exclaimed soon after, peering ahead. “And beyond it the Mistlands!”
He looked down eagerly. The ranch-town of Tobor was a sprawling blot on the blue plain, a mass of, ramshackle, hastily built structures of cement and metal, with a big, spaceport at its edge.
Far beyond the town, on the dim northern horizon, the rolling blue prairie suddenly came to an end. A wall of impenetrable white mists, which towered miles high, shut off sight off all beyond.
That was the boundary of the mysterious Mistlands, the eternally fog-shrouded lands of enigma in the far north of Saturn. Not a single man in the System had ever gone into, them and returned: Captain Future himself had never penetrated those cloudy lands of mystery.
“The Mistlands!” he whispered. “Does the Fountain of Life exist somewhere in there? But if it does, how, could anyone reach it? How could the Life-lord ever have found it?”
Then he came back to the immediate necessities.
“No use speculating,” Curt told himself. “I’ve g
ot to stick to the lead I’ve got to find out what it was that Sus Urgal learned at Tobor.”
Curt Newton landed his flier at the spaceport of the town. The big ships parked here were all space freighters, designed to carry, in vacuum compartments, frozen meat to other planets.
Curt twisted his planet-jewel ring out of sight. Hitching up his belt to keep his proton pistol handy, he started into the town. He had covered his red hair with a space cap, to make it less conspicuous.
THE tall planeteer strode by the packing plants adjoining the spaceport. He passed the labyrinthine stock yards, in which the vicious blue Saturnian cattle milled and seethed and butted the heavy bars. He entered the roaring main street of the ranchtown.
This interplanetary frontier town boomed with life, even now at noonday. Tough, rangy, blue Saturnian herdsmen were riding in and out on their eight-legged black stads. A wild looking crew, all were wearing heavy atom pistols. Meat-buyers from many worlds, swaggering space-sailors from the nearby spaceport, merchants and gamblers and a few black uniformed Planet Police it was a motley throng that crowded the narrow, muddy street.
Captain Future had a definite aim in visiting this place. He meant to learn what Sus Urgal, the Martian author, had found out about the Fountain of Life legend. To do that, knew that he must first ascertain the Martian’s source of information.
“Better start at the drinking-places, I suppose,” the scientific wizard reasoned. He grinned. “Here’s where I become just another tough Earth adventurer on the loose.”
Drinking-places and gambling-houses abounded here, as in all interplanetary frontier towns, where hardy ram gather and wealth comes and goes easily. Curt Newton entered a noisy saloon.
Herdsmen, space-sailors and idlers lined the metal bar. Saturnian brandy, Martian desert-liquor, Venusian wine were flowing. Curt ordered Earth whiskey, and scrutinized two rangy blue Saturnian herdsmen who stood beside him. He offered to buy a drink — an offer which was quickly accepted.
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