"Curt!" Joan screamed to Captain Future (CHAP. XVIII)

RED SUN OF DANGER

By BRETT STERLING

From the archives of the mighty Ancients, Curt Newton brings

back forgotten Denebian science to balk a greed-maddened

schemer who seeks to loose unspeakable terror on the

Universe!

CHAPTER I

Seven Against a World

TO SEE your whole life-work smashed to

ruins by no fault of your own, to see the great

dream of humanity which you had helped

fulfill destroyed now by trickery and greed--

yes, the taste of these things was bitter!

They put a sickness in Philip Carlin's

studious, spectacled face as his rocket-car

purred up the wide north ramp into the center

of Great New York. They crushed his mind

with a black foreknowledge of disaster to

come.

He drove into the great paved plaza that is the

heart of Solar System civilization. The titanic

bulk of Government Tower loomed like a

thundercloud above the lights of the

metropolis. Far up there against the stars

glowed a lighted window, like a vigilant eye

looking watchfully out into the universe that

man had begun to conquer.

A Planet Patrol officer met Carlin. "Dr.

Carlin? I have been ordered to conduct you to

the President's office. This way, sir."

Carlin glanced at the officer as they walked

toward the mighty tower. Impulse made him

ask a question. "How old are you, Lieutenant?"

The Patrol officer looked surprised. "Thirty,

sir."

Carlin brooded over the answer a moment. "I

suppose you've got your next seventy years all

planned?"

The lieutenant grinned. "Oh, sure. There's a

lot of things I want to do after I quit the Patrol,

some day. But I've lots of time."

Carlin's voice was heavy with foreboding.

"I'd do them now, if I were you. I wouldn't

count on those seventy years too much."

The lieutenant's grin widened. "You're joking,

aren't you? Everybody will live more than a

century now, barring accident. Vitron has seen

to that."

His cheerful words echoed ironically in Philip

Carlin's mind as a soundless magnetic elevator

bore him upward.

"Vitron has seen to that!"

Vitron! The whole Solar System depended on

the magic drug these days, as much as on the

air it breathed--the drug of long life!

For vitron was a super-vitamin, a chemical

agent that combated the poisons which cause

the human body to age. It would give people a

century of life, and decades of useful youth. It

had at one stroke enormously expanded man's

prospective life-span.

But nine-tenths of the precious vitron came

from a world far outside the System. Now that

supply was threatened!

If the System learned of that danger, there

would be a panic. But Daniel Crewe, the

System President, had imparted it only to the

scientists who had discovered vitron and to the

others whom he had summoned to this urgent

conference tonight.

CARLIN was thinking of those others now,

without hope. "What can they do, if the

Government is powerless? What can any of us

do?"

When he entered the tower-top room that was

the President's office he found that Zamok, the

solemn Martian biochemist, and Lin Sao, the

plump Venusian cytologist, were already there.

So was Commander Halk Anders of the Planet

Patrol, a hard-faced, massive man in gray

uniform.

But the room was somehow dominated by the

fourth man, the worn, colorless little Earthman

upon whose shoulders rested the vast weight of

administering the government of the System's

worlds and moons. Daniel Crewe looked as

though that weight were crushing him, tonight.

"They're not here yet?" Philip Carlin asked

hesitantly.

"They're coming now," Commander Anders

said curtly. "Hear that?"

A low, muffled drone was audible from the

night sky somewhere above this tower-top

room. To Carlin, who was no spaceman, it was

indistinguishable from the sound of any other

rocket-ship. But Anders was sure.

"That's Captain Future's ship," he said.

Crewe's tired eyes lighted a little. "I was sure

they would come quickly."

Carlin was unimpressed. Why did all these

people regard Captain Future as though he

were something superhuman?

Who was Captain Future, anyway? The

greatest of space-adventurers, people said.

They told wild tales of his planeteering

exploits, of his scientific achievements, of his

three non-human comrades who were called

the Futuremen, of his mysterious home up

there on Earth's wild, barren Moon.

But what did it all boil down to? To the fact

that a young Earthman with three freak-ish

companions had performed certain exploits in

space which popular enthusiasm had magnified

beyond all reason. Just as legend credited the

Futuremen with impossible scientific

attainments.

Of course, Carlin grudgingly admitted, these

so-called Futuremen did have one major

scientific achievement to their credit. Their

invention of the vibration-drive, giving space-

ships speeds beyond that of light, was what

had made interstellar travel possible. It had

enabled the System peoples, in the last ten

years, to explore and even to start colonizing

the nearer star-systems.

People had to have a hero, Carlin thought

morosely. This brash young adventurer had

caught their fancy, had become the center of

nonsensical legends. But why did the President

and Commander, in a serious emergency like

this, place such dependence on a cheap popular

hero?

"I suppose none of us are wholly immune to

mob hero-worship," Carlin thought wearily.

The muffled drone above the tower reached a

crescendo and stopped. Quick footsteps

sounded on the stair leading down from the

little landing-deck atop the tower. A man came

quietly into the room.

"Got here as quickly as we could, sir," he said

to Daniel Crewe. "Hello, Halk. I presume these

three gentlemen are the vitron scientists?"

With a little shock, Philip Carlin partly

revised his cynical estimate. If this man was

Captain Future, he had about him little of the

flamboyant or swashbuckling air Carlin had

expected.

This was a tall young Earthman, lean in a

close-fitting drab zipper-suit. Except for an

atom-pistol unobtrusively holstered at his belt,

he had none of the attributes of a space-

adventurer.

His torch-red hair was uncovered. His tanned

and rather handsome face was grave. His cool

gray eyes looked as though they could light

easily with humor, but their gaze was

searching.

Carlin's attention next centered upon the trio

who were entering after Captain Future. Carlin

rose sharply, astonished. He'd expected three

clever, freakish automatons. He hadn't

expected these!

"This is Curt Newton," Daniel Crewe was

saying quietly to the scientists, "and these are

the Futuremen--Simon Wright, Grag and

Otho."

Simon Wright, the one known to the System

as the Brain, held Carlin's fascinated gaze as he

mumbled acknowledgement of introduction.

WRIGHT was totally divorced from human

form. His "body" was a small, square

transparent case, poised in mid-air on jetted

magnetic beams. His face was merely the side

of the case on which were his protruding glass

lens-eyes and the curious resonator of his

mechanical speech-apparatus.

Carlin now remembered the story that people

told and that he heard skeptically. If it were

true, inside that box was a living human brain.

Once it had been the brain of Doctor Simon

Wright, brilliant, aged scientist of a generation

ago, but when Wright was on the point of

death, so they said, his living brain had been

surgically removed and placed in the ingenious

serum-case which had ever since served him as

a mechanical body.

If that story were true--but it must be true,

after all, Carlin thought in stunned surprise, for

the Brain was speaking to the President, in a

metallic, inflectionless voice.

"You said in your telaudio call that the vitron

supply is threatened. What's wrong?"

"Yes, whats all this fuss about vitron?"

boomed the loud voice of Grag. "It can't be as

important as people make out. I never take it."

Grag was a gigantic robot--a metal man,

seven feet high, having massive arms and legs

and a bulbous head with glowing, photoelectric

eyes. Carlin had always believed he was an

automaton, constructed with unusual

cleverness.

But this robot was no automaton! His

blustering comment attested intelligence and

perceptions equalling a human's, a powerful

mind and personality seated in the robot's

complex mechanical brain.

Otho, third of the strange trio of Future-men,

was wholly manlike. Yet the stories insisted

that he too had been artificially created, that he

was an android or synthetic man born in a

laboratory long ago.

His slender white figure had a litheness that

hinted agility and speed to match the titan

strength of Grag. An ironical, reckless

personality was mirrored in the android's thin,

mobile face and slanted green eyes.

"Of course you don't take vitron--only we

humans take it," he said tauntingly to Grag.

Grag appealed loudly to Captain Future.

"Chief, I thought you said Otho was to stop

insulting me? Did you hear that crack?"

"Cut your rockets, both of you," Captain

Future said sharply.

They had sat down around the President's big

desk. All except the giant robot whom no

ordinary chair would bear, and the brain who

hovered silently beside Curt Newton and

watched with expressionless lens-eyes.

It was a weird council indeed to gather here

in a tower of old New York! Carlin still felt a

sense of unreality as he looked at the Brain,

robot and android.

These strange Futuremen, this quiet-eyed

young Earthman--was it possible that they had

done the things with which legend credited

them? For the first time, Carlin's numbed mind

felt a vague hope.

"You all know how vital the vitron supply is,"

Crewe was saying. "You ought to know, since

it was your joint labors that gave vitron to the

System."

Carlin realized the truth of that. Zamok and

Lin Sao had discovered vitron in their

laboratories, but when the drug proved too

complex to synthesize on a large scale, it was

he himself who had developed vitron-plants

which had a high content of the substance and

could be grown wholesale.

Vitron-plants would grow only in powerful

solar radiation and high humidity. In the

System, Venus alone met those conditions, and

dry land there was limited. It was then that the

Futuremen's past explorations of nearby star-

systems had revealed that the star Arkar had a

planet, Roo, which was ideal for growing

vitron-plants. On Roo had been established the

colony which now grew the precious vitron for

the System.

"And you all know," Crewe continued, "that

the System depends for nine-tenths of its vitron

on distant Roo. Now that supply is threatened

by a rebellion of the Roo colony against the

System Government!"

Curt Newton's brows drew together.

"Rebellion on Roo? What would start it? What

grievance have the colonists?"

"It's the Roons," said the President. "They've

been attacking the colonists, raiding their

plantations. And the raids are getting worse."

"The Roons?" echoed Otho, puzzled. "The

humanoid natives of Roo? I remember them, a

primitive people of the red jungles. But they

weren't hostile when we first explored Roo ten

years ago."

"They weren't hostile to the colonists until a

few months ago," Commander Halk Anders

said harshly. "Then they suddenly began

attacking the colony. We believe . someone is

deliberately inciting them to hostility!"

"We believe it, but we can't prove it," Crewe

said wearily. "The attacks have enraged the

colonists. They want to take summary

vengeance on the natives. But we can't permit

that--it would mean a massacre of the Roons.

It would be an evil beginning for our

interstellar expansion. We want to stop these

raids without slaughtering the inhabitants of

Roo." He spread his hands helplessly. "So the

agitators for rebellion claim that the System

Government won't protect the colony, and that

it should secede and declare its independence."

Carlin looked troubled.

"We think someone is using this scheme to set

up a puppet independent government on Roo

and get a monopoly on vitron. Then vitron,

which means health and life, would be sold

only to those in the System who could pay

high prices!"

"A neat profiteering scheme, and not a new

one," rasped the Brain. "Remember that fellow

Lu Suur who tried to corner vitron production

on Venus, years back?"

"Whatever became of Lu Suur, anyway?"

Curt Newton asked thoughtfully.

The President nodded. "We thought of that.

The fellow dropped out of sight after the Roo

project broke his attempt at monopoly. He

might be mixed up in this. Joan and Ezra are

checking on him."

"I've been saying that the way to nip this

whole rebellion business is to send a big Patrol

squadron ,to Roo and crush the revolt before it

begins," Halk Anders cut in harshly.

WEARILY Crewe shook his head. "We've

argued that out. The colonists are so inflamed

now that any show of force would be

interpreted as coercion by the Government,

and would bring the rebellion to a head. It

would play into Harmer's hands."

"Harmer?" Captain Future's question came

sharply.

"Jed Harmer is the leader of the independence

movement on Roo. We think he's only a

puppet of the real conspirators, whoever they

are."

Curt Newton spoke thoughtfully. "Since your

reports indicate that those conspirators have

deliberately incited the Roons to hostility, why

not send secret agents to Roo to expose that

fact? If the colonists there learned how they've

been tricked, they'd turn against the agitators

immediately."

"We did send four of the Patrol's best secret

agents to Roo," the President said. "All four of

them met death on the way there--

'accidentally'. Their identity and purpose had

been suspected."

Newton shrugged. "Then the job must be

undertaken by agents who know Roo

thoroughly yet who will not be suspected."

He looked around their faces. "I think this is a

job the seven of us could do--us Futuremen

and these three scientists," he said coolly.

Philip Carlin felt an incredulous amazement

stiffen his face. "Zamok and Lin and I will go

to Roo with you as secret agents? But how--"

"You three have a plausible reason to visit

Roo without being suspected," Newton pointed

out. "You're the discoverers and developers of

vitron, and what more logical than that you

should visit Roo again for further research? No

one will dream that you're there as

Government agents."

"But what do we know about that kind of

work?" babbled Lin Sao.

"You know Roo, and that's what will count

the most," retorted Captain Future. "Well, will

you go?"

Carlin felt stunned. The last thing he had

expected was a proposal such as this.

His first impulse was to refuse. He a secret

agent? He, the botanist who knew nothing of

secret missions, of danger or conspiracies?

Carlin opened his mouth to reject the

proposal. Across the desk he met the gray eyes

of Captain Future, quietly watching him.

He was never after able to explain it to

himself. But with incredulous horror, he heard

himself saying, "I'll go, for one."

Zamok nodded in his silent Martian way. And

Lin Sao, his plump face eager, added, "I, too!

Nobody will profiteer on vitron if I can stop

it."

Daniel gazed at Captain Future in distress.

"Curt, you Futuremen can't go to Roo," he

said. "These three men might not be suspected,

but everybody knows that you four are the

Government's ace trouble-shooters. If you turn

up on Roo, the men behind this thing will

know your mission instantly."

"Don't worry, I can dope out a disguise for

myself and the chief that'll fool everybody,"

Otho boasted.

"Yes, but how about Simon and me?" Grag

demanded loudly. "You can't disguise us with

your make-up tricks."

Newton spoke to the President. "Don't worry,

sir--I have a plan by which we Fu-turemen

can go to Roo without arousing suspicion."

"But I still don't see--," Grag began to

complain, puzzled.

"I'll explain on the way to Venus, Grag," said

Curt Newton.

"Venus?" repeated Commander Anders, his

hard face betraying surprise.

Newton nodded. "The supply ships for Roo

take off from Venusopolis, don't they? Well,

that's where our trail begins."

He gave rapid instructions to Carlin, Zamok

and Lin Sao. "You three will go separately

from us to Roo, immediately. Take the first

ship and announce you've come for research on

certain vitron problems."

Carlin nodded. "But what do we do when we

get there?"

"Just fake some research until we get into

touch with you," Captain Future said. "You'll

hear from us, never fear. And-- trust nobody."

The rest of their plans were swiftly laid.

Newton gave no hint of his own intentions. But

when the Futuremen left, Daniel Crewe voiced

another anxious warning.

"Captain Future, you seven will be on your

own, there on Roo. We can't send you help, for

as I said, that would precipitate the rebellion.

And you'll find few there who aren't with the

rebels. It'll be you seven against all Roo!"

Newton smiled understandingly. "I know. But

we seven know Roo, and we've all got a

personal stake in this. I think we have a

chance."

Later Carlin stood at the window with the two

scientists and Commander and President,

watching a small ship streak an arc of rocket-

fire toward the zenith above New York. The

Futuremen were on their way to Venus--and

Roo.

Roo, world of Arkar! His dismayed thoughts

leaped out to that far, alien world in whose

deadly and secret struggle he too was now

involved.

So distant from the familiar Solar System,

and so strange, that foreign world. Its unearthly

red sunlight and crimson jungles, its ocher seas

and brazen sky, its weird night-dragons flitting

beneath the dark moon --they rose in Carlin's

memory now.

Yet, somehow, Philip Carlin did not feel as

appalled as he would have expected. Somehow

he felt a buoyant throb of excited confidence,

communicated to him by the strange quartet

who were to be his comrades in this secret

struggle of seven against a world.

CHAPTER II

Night on Venus

UNQUESTIONABLY, the great spaceport at

Venusopolis is an epitome of the aspirations

and limitations of man.

Here, in breathtaking beauty, the shimmering

traffic-tower rises into the night, pointing like a

shining finger at the distant planets and the far

more distant stars toward which the great

ships take off with thunderous crash of rockets.

Watching those ships go out, one can believe

man is a god.

But leave the spaceport and walk through the

sordid huddle of shabby streets around it, and

you see the god's feet of clay. Beyond the ring

of mountainous warehouses that hold the ores

from Mercury and grain and frozen meat from

Saturn, the machinery from nearby Earth and

the precious vitron from faraway Arkar, lies

the zone known as the "Belt."

The Belt is a shabby slum battening upon

spacemen, adventurers, merchants and less-

identifiable characters who flow into Venus

through the spaceport.

It has seemed incongruous to more than one

observer that men who have known the beauty

and wonder of the starways should find

relaxation in the tawdry drinking-places and

amusements of this place.

But human nature changes slowly, too slowly

to match the swift, rising beat of a star-

conquering civilization.

Rab Cain had some such thought as he

unobtrusively made his way along a thronged,

mist-choked main avenue of the Belt.

"An ugly, tawdry place," he thought wryly.

"Still, it's lucky for me right now that there's

such a district as this on Venus."

Cain stiffened suddenly. Two planet Patrol

officers approaching along the foggy street.

One was a Martian, one a sharp-eyed

Mercurian, and they were keenly eying passing

faces.

"If they ask to see my papers, I'm done!" Rab

Cain started to sweat.

He tried to look as inconspicuous, as law-

abiding, as possible. But that was not easy for

Rab Cain.

His face was not the face of a law-abiding,

commonplace citizen. It was a tough young

Earthman's face--the dark features subtly

hardened and worn by time, and with a livid

straight scar across the left cheek which was

only too obviously an old atom-gun wound.

Cain fervently hoped that the deadly little

atom-pistol he packed in his jacket was not

bulging enough to betray its presence. The two

Patrol officers were looking at him very

sharply as they closed in.

Fortune favored him. A towering Saturnian

spaceman further along the street chose that

moment to come to blows with a Venusian

whose girl he had been ogling. The small

uproar drew the Patrol men forward in a run.

Rab Cain uttered a breath of relief.

"If they'd picked me up now, it would sure be

tough!" he muttered.

The streets were risky for him, he knew. But

just ahead glowed the sign of his destination,

the Inn of a Thousand Strangers.

The resorts of the Belt ran to flowery names.

Basically, they were all the same--shabby

rooms choked with green rial-smoke, half-

drunken patrons and the haunting wail of

Venusian music.

They were not as bad as they looked.

Slumming parties from the sea-garden suburbs

of Venusopolis might find them excitingly

suggestive of outlaws and "planet-jumpers".

There were a few of these. But most of the

patrons were simply space-weary men who

craved a few hours fun.

Cain pushed his way into the Inn of a

Thousand Strangers, avoided the noisy crowd

at the bar and took a small table in a shadowy

corner.

No one noticed him in the chatter of loud

voices and throb of music.

Four Venusians in the opposite corner picked

at their cross-strung guitars and sang

swampland songs in a muted undertone.

"Ah, let's have some real spaceman's music

instead of that wailing," bellowed a merry,

half-drunken Jovian spaceman. "Play 'Wind

Between the Worlds'!"

Cain inserted a square coin into the automatic

service-pump at the center of his table and

turned the selector to "whisky." A plastic

tumbler of brown liquid popped out.

As he drank, he kept his eyes on the door. Not

too steadily, but he watched it with a

furtiveness that made more than one casual

observer put him down as a planet-jumper

dodging the Patrol.

"The wind that blows between the worlds

Has carried me from home--"

They were bawling it out, a dozen motley,

merry spacemen who had bought the illusion

of good cheer for a brief hour between

voyages.

"It never now will let me go

And till I die I'll roam."

CAIN smiled mirthlessly as he lowered his

glass. The song was peculiarly appropriate in

his own case, he thought.

He stiffened to attention. He was looking at

the door, and a gush of mist had just come in

the door, and someone had come with it.

It was not a Planet Patrol man. It was a tall,

brown-faced young Earthman whose torch-red

hair was bare, and whose gray eyes were

keenly searching the smoke-fogged room.

But behind that tall Earthman were two

figures whom everyone in the Inn of a

Thousand Strangers recognized at once, even

though they had never seen them before.

Not human, those two figures. One, a

towering, steely robot, gigantic, awesome, his

metal head swivelling, photoelectric eyes

glaring.

The other, a poised, floating box that had

watchful lens-eyes.

"The futuremen!" shrilled a voice,

incredulous. "That's Captain Future!"

Rab Cain half rose from his chair, his dark

face frozen, his glass dropping from his hand.

The click of the plastic tumbler on the floor

brought the eyes of Captain Future instantly

toward him.

Captain Future started across the room.

A hundred pairs of eyes followed him, the

gliding Brain, the clanking, towering Grag.

This was an event almost without precedent,

this was a thing a man would tell of for years.

These people would have been less astounded

had the System President walked into the

tawdry establishment.

Captain Future was a name, a legend of the

starways. He was even more than that, to nine

hundred and ninety-nine people out of a

thousand.

The distorted, magnified tales of the

Futuremen and their exploits on far worlds and

stars were told as of an adventurer of another

age.

And now, suddenly, here they were--Captain

Future and two of his famous band, walking

into this commonplace tavern of Venusopolis!

Small wonder that the faces here watched him

with intense interest, incredulous astonishment,

and in some cases with fear.

Fear! It was naked on Rab Cain's dark face

for all to see as the Futuremen came across the

room toward him.

Captain Future's gray eyes bored into Cain's

face. "You're Rab Cain? We want you."

Cain found his voice.

"I've done nothing!" he said hoarsely.

Captain Future's lips tightened. His voice was

a whiplash.

"Nothing that the Patrol can hold you for,

maybe. But I'm not the Patrol."

"You've no authority to arrest me!" Cain

exclaimed

"Authority?" boomed the huge robot, in

disgust, "If the little rat wants authority, I'll

show him some."

Grag started forward.

Captain Future shook his head. He did not

take his eyes off the cornered man in front of

him.

"Cain, you're coming with us."

As he spoke, Captain Future started to draw

the atom-pistol at his belt to enforce the

command.

Desperation, and raw terror, flashed into Rab

Cain's sullen eyes.

"You're not taking me, even if you are the

Futuremen!" he yelled.

Now the frozen throng saw Rab Cain do a

mad, a suicidal thing. They saw him snatch out

an atom-pistol from inside his jacket.

He was crazed with panic to do such a thing,

all knew. No man ever had matched blazing

atom-guns with Captain Future and won. They

knew that the scared young Earthman was

good as dead already.

Captain Future's hand moved with blurring

speed to bring up his own half-drawn weapon.

More than human seemed the swiftness of the

movement--

Then the unexpected, the totally

unprecedented, happened! It is said that even

the most skillful fighting-man will find some

day that the averages are against him, that in

time he must make a slip.

Captain Future's clean, swift draw suddenly

caught and dragged. Had his atom-pistol

caught on the holster? Nobody could see. It

was over too soon for that.

Rab Cain's atom-pistol flashed a streak of

blinding energy. The redhaired planeteer had

his gun only half raised. A thin scorching blast

struck Captain Future's side!

THE redhaired planeteer uttered a choking cry,

and fell with his weapon dropping from his

nerveless hand.

"Chief!" yelled Grag the robot, leaping

forward to the side of the fallen leader, a note

of awful anxiety in his tones.

Rab Cain stood petrified, looking almost

stupidly at the fallen man, as though he could

not yet believe he had really done this.

Nor was his astonishment greater than the

incredulous amazement that stunned the

watching crowd.

"Gods of space, he's dropped Captain

Future!" yelled a wild voice.

Then--mad confusion. The Brain rushing

forward, and Grag leaping up from his fallen

leader with a booming, unhuman cry of rage.

Rab Cain jumped back, the gun in his hand

spitting crashes of lightning. He was aiming at

the big cluster of krypton-lights in the ceiling.

The shattering of them clapped darkness on the

room.

Screams of women, hoarse, bawling yells,

and over everything the heart-stopping,

booming roar of the maddened robot.

"Captain Future's been killed!"

Rab Cain plunged through the whirl of dark

figures toward the door. He used the butt end

of his gun to smack yelling, shadowy figures

out of his way.

He burst out into the misty, darkness of the

street. Then he was running at top speed

through the shrouding fog.

He thanked the stars for the fog which was

rolling in thicker from the swamplands as he

ran. It blanketed the uproar behind" him, made

his running figure half invisible.

He headed toward the spaceport. He had to

get there, and get there fast before the Planet

Patrol could stop him.

CHAPTER III

Secret Stratagem

VENUSOPOLIS lies upon a long, wide ridge

between the swampland and the sea. The

Venusians, always the most aesthetic people in

the System, have preempted its shore for their

beautiful floating villas and "sea-garden"

suburbs. Mere commercial structures are

relegated to the swampward side. Among those

structures stood one whose nature would have

been instantly recognized by any citizen of the

nine worlds. The stations of the far-flung

Planet Patrol are always the same in

appearance, from Mercury to Pluto. There is

always a square, grim black two-storied

synthestone building, and behind it a big

landing-court for the cruisers that maintain the

law in space.

The Patrol station in Venusopolis showed

lights from one upper window tonight. In that

office, two people were working late. Both

were high-ranking members of the Patrol. One

was an old man, the other a girl.

Joan Randall did not wear the Patrol uniform.

Secret agents of the Patrol's famous Section

Four never do. She was wearing a plain white

silk zipper-suit that made her dark young

beauty incongruous in this place.

Her brown eyes were tired as she looked up

from the mass of papers on the desk. "The

name of Lu Suur is not on any of these

passenger-lists, Ezra."

"You've covered every ship he could have

taken?" asked Ezra Gurney, white-haired

veteran marshal of the Patrol.

It was significant he spoke to the girl as to

another man. The girl had served the great

organization of law for a handful of years--

the man for a lifetime. Yet in Joan's soft

features was the same intent look as in Gur-

ney's weathered face.

"Lu Suur disappeared from Venus eight years

ago," she pointed out. "He vanished right after

his attempt to create a vitron-monopoly here

had been balked. I've checked the passenger-

list of every ship that left here at that time. He

was not on any of them, but he probably used

an assumed name."

She looked disconsolately out the open

window from whence came a lilt of gay music

from the dance-palaces out in the sea-gardens.

Ezra Gurney was watching her with wise old

eyes. "Cap'n Future's still home, isn't he?

Wouldn't wonder he'd be droppin' in at Earth,

one of these days."

Her brown eyes met his, without attempt at

evasion. "Yes, Ezra," she said quietly. "That's

why I'd like to get back to Earth."

Ezra dropped his chaffing manner. His face

showed contrition. "I'm sorry, Joan. Didn't

mean to tease you. You know how fond of you

I am."

She smiled. "I know, Ezra."

"And because I am," he continued with

sudden feeling, "I wish you'd never met Curt

Newton."

She looked surprised and hurt. "Why do you

say that?"

"Because if you'd never met Cap'n Future,

you'd be married by now to some nice young

fellow and have a real home, instead of bein' a

number in Section Four of the Patrol, and,

eatin' your heart out for a man who'll never

marry and settle down like other men."

"Ezra, you're talking nonsense!" she said

hotly. "You must be out of your mind, to say

that--"

Joan stopped, ruefully. "I'm sorry, Ezra. I

know you meant it for my own good. But it's

just no good talking. There's never been

anyone else for me since I met Curt. And I

know he loves me. Someday he'll stop space-

roving, someday he'll want a home on Earth

like any other man."

"He would, if he were like any other man,"

warned the old marshal. "But he isn't, Joan.

You know as well as I do what kind of an

upbringin' he had--an orphaned baby, raised

there on the wild Moon by a Brain, a robot and

an android. A boy who never even saw another

man until he was nearly a man himself! He's

different from the rest of us. He'll always be

different."

"Is that any way for one of his oldest friends

to talk about Captain Future?" demanded the

girl.

Her voice seemed to echo back and forth in

the room, like a queer reverberation from walls

and floor.

"Captain Future--" it whispered.

IT WASN'T an echo! It came from the telaudio

loudspeaker down in the station office. Joan

jumped to her feet.

At that moment a breathless Mercurian

lieutenant of the Patrol burst into the office.

"Marshal Gurney--Agent Randall--a flash

just came in from one of our cruiser-cars!" he

cried. "Captain Future has been badly hurt in a

gun-fight down in the Belt!"

"Curt on Venus?" exclaimed Joan

incredulously. "It's impossible!"

"No doubt about it--he and two of the

Futuremen went into the Inn of a Thousand

Strangers after an Earthman named Rab Cain,"

rattled off the officer. "Cain shot it out, and

Captain Future was hurt. Cain got away."

Ezra Gurney exploded. "Expect us to believe

that a cheap crook could match atom-guns with

Cap'n Future? It's crazy!"

"Ezra, come on!" cried Joan, urgently.

As a Patrol rocket-car whirled them westward

through the mist-shrouded streets of

Venusopolis, Ezra was still muttering angrily.

"Some fool officer must have got excited an'

lost his head to turn in a report like that. Cap'n

Future losin' a gun-fight?"

So many times had he and Joan Randall

witnessed Curt Newton's phenomenal speed

and efficiency in combat, that the old veteran

could not conceive the possibility that the

famous planeteer could be outmatched in a

fight.

But Joan's first similar incredulity was giving

way to a frightening foreboding. Always, that

foreboding had been at the back of her mind.

Always she had recognized the grim fact that

even the most courageous and resourceful of

men could not forever challenge risks without

someday losing.

"Go faster!" she urged the officer driving.

"Use the screamer."

The Mercurian at the wheel flung her a

startled look. They were already tearing

through the misty streets at a dangerous rate,

the infra-red foglamps barely illuminating the

way ahead.

Yet he floorboarded the cyc-pedal and

pressed a button that flung a shrill, almost

supersonie note far ahead of the rushing

machine. That screaming vibration, never used

by the Patrol except in emergencies, eleared

streets ahead of them like magic.

They tore into the shabby slum of the Belt.

Far beyond it, the vague, glimmering spire of

the spaceport traffic-tower lifted above the

heavier ground-banks of fog. A big ship there

was rising ponderously out of the mist on

flaming keel-jets, disappearing in the sky.

Then the rocket-car's brakes skidded it

sidewise as they came upon a crowd jamming

the street ahead.

"This is the place!" exclaimed the Mercurian

lieutenant as they jumped out. "Make way,

there--Patrol business!"

"Captain Future dying! Future--dead!"

They rang in Joan's ears like a knell, those

hoarse phrases babbled by the excited crowd

through which they pushed. Her cold dread

deepened.

Ironically, the krypton sign of the Inn of a

Thousand Strangers beamed greeting above the

door. She went inside, hardly conscious of the

taut-faced Patrol officers already here, their

urgent voices, the staring crowd around the

wall of the smoke-choked, shabby room.

She could see only the little group in the

center of the floor. A lithe, red-haired man who

lay face upward. The giant figure of Grag

crouched over him, and poised above the

prostrate figure was the uncannily hovering

box of the Brain.

"Simon--Grag!" She ran toward them.

Big Grag whirled, his glaring photoelectric

eyes fixed on her and Ezra in amazement.

"Joan! You and Ezra here?"

She ignored the question. "Let me see Curt!"

Newton lay limp and unstirring, eyes closed.

His face was a waxy white. Then her heart

contracted, as she saw the gaping, blackened

wound in his side, midway between shoulder

and waist.

Simon Wright's lens-eyes looked at her

unfathomably. "Steady now, Joan. He's badly

hurt but not dead."

The room seemed to waltz slowly around her,

and she was grateful for the rigidity of Grag's

mighty arm supporting her.

"How did it happen?" Ezra was mumbling,

his faded eyes wild and incredulous.

"The chief's atom-pistol caught in his holster

and that fellow Cain got the jump on him--

then shot out the lights and escaped!" raged

Grag. "But we'll get him!"

A MARTIAN captain of the Patrol came

running across the room, his red face

sweating.

"Just got a call from one of our men at the

spaceport," he reported. "We were too late.

The man Rab Cain got away--took passage in

the Starfarer, the emigrant ship bound for

Arkar."

"Then order a squadron of cruisers out to

bring the Starfarer back!" roared Ezra.

"No, wait!" said the Brain urgently. "You

can't do that. Cain would plead self-defense.

Technically we had no right to arrest him. We

Futuremen will take care of him."

"But he's on his way to Arkar--trillions of

miles outside the System!" objected Ezra

strenuously.

"Never fear, he can't go so far we can't find

him," retorted the Brain, his metallic voice

cold with menace. "That can come later. We've

got Curtis to take care of now. We'll take him

to the Comet--I can treat his wound better

there. Our ship's parked out at the edge of the

swampland. Get a rocket-car."

The only thing clear in Joan's mind was the

still, waxy face of Captain Future as they

carried him out through the mist and laid him

on the floor of the car. Ezra took the wheel,

and they started westward through the misty

streets.

She looked up from Captain Future, to find

Grag and Simon were looking at her strangely.

"Joan, there's something to tell you," said the

Brain. "But first, I want to explain that we

didn't know you were here in Venusopo-lis.

Curt thought you had gone back to Earth with

your report by now."

"That's why he didn't let me know you were

here?" she said. "It doesn't matter now."

"It does matter," insisted Simon. "You see,

we couldn't explain things back there in the

cafe. Too many people were watching and we

had to play the part we had prepared, even

when you and Ezra unexpectedly appeared.

"Simon, what are you getting at?" She looked

at the Brain with sudden intentness.

"The fact is," blurted out Grag, "that it was all

a strategem on the chiefs' part. He wasn't

really hurt at all."

"Curt not wounded?" she gasped. "But he--"

Her breath stopped. Curt Newton was sitting

up in the floor of the car, looking in a

shamefaced fashion.

"I'm sorry we had to give you such a shock,

Joan," he said earnestly. "You see--"

"It doesn't matter, you don't have to explain!"

she cried. Happiness and relief choked her.

"Curt, just to know you're all right--"

"That's what I'm trying to explain," he

persisted in distress. "You see, Joan, I'm not

Curt at all."

To her amazement, he put his hands to his

face. Waxite plugs came deftly away, elastic

flesh smoothed into new features, a false wig

of curly red hair came off.

And it was Otho the android who was looking

at her with embarrassment!

"It was Otho, disguised as Curtis, all the

time," Simon explained. "The 'wound' in his

side was faked--he wore a ray-proof vest. We

had to do this, Joan. We've got a big job ahead,

one of the biggest."

He told her, then, of the threat of rebellion on

distant Roo, of what it meant to the vitron

supply, and of the determination of the

Futuremen and the three scientists to go to Roo

as secret agents.

"Curt had to get to Roo in disguise without

being suspected," Simon continued. "To make

sure nobody would dream he was there, we

staged this little drama tonight so that everyone

will know Captain Future has been badly

wounded and is lying helpless back here in the

System.

"No one will dream that Curt is really out on

this mission. And when we Futuremen go to

Roo, we'll do so secretly. Even if the men

we're after there learn of our coming, they

won't think we can do much without Curt to

lead us."

"But where is Curt, now?" cried the

bewildered girl.

"He's already on his way to Roo," was the

answer. "Otho worked out an effective disguise

for him, too. Curtis is 'Rab Cain'!"

CHAPTER IV

In the Abyss

LIKE a giant, silvery torpedo, the Starfarer lay

in its semi-sunken cradle, the streamlined

sweep of its hull broken only by the low hump

of the bridge and the massive drive-ring at the

tail. Porthole lights gleamed through the mist,

and light spilled through open space-doors

down the busy gangways.

It seemed incredible that this inert mass of

metal could of its own power leap trillions of

miles to another star. That was why the

departure of one of the big star-ships was still

an event, to a generation that was accustomed

to ordinary interplanetary voyages. Only in the

last ten years had men begun to stride out to

foreign stars.

"Twenty minutes to take-off!" shouted

loudspeakers across the misty spaceport.

"Board at once--Door Two!"

Curt Newton, in his disguise as Rab Cain,

raced across the foggy tarmac toward the

beckoning second door of the great bulk, after

paying emigrant's passage to Roo. There was a

little crowd of such emigrants ahead of him,

going up the gangway.

"Show your passage papers--and hurry!"

shouted a steward at the top of the gangway.

"Emigrants' salon just ahead."

From the top of the gangway, Captain Future

looked back with a nervousness which was not

assumed. If Patrol cars dashed up now, before

the take-off, it would ruin his plan.

It was enough for him merely to travel to

distant Roo in disguised identity. The

conspirators there would sooner or later

investigate his back trail. Their thoroughness

was proved by the "accidental" deaths of the

Patrol secret agents first sent out.

It must look as though he, Rab Cain, had shot

Captain Future and boarded the star-ship to

escape. Since they had not dared risk leakage

of their scheme by telling the Planet Patrol, the

Patrol could ruin it now by seizing him before

the ship took off.

"We've cut it pretty fine," Newton thought

tautly. "But Grag and Simon should be able to

delay a Patrol alarm from going out at once."

"All emigrants, this way!" a steward was

saying loudly. "Move forward--don't block the

corridor."

The emigrants' salon proved a large square

room, with portholes at one side, and dozens of

recoil-chairs. Corridors branched off of it,

where there were many small cabins each

accommodating two passengers.

The emigrants in this big room numbered

more than a hundred. Curt Newton's eyes ran

quickly over them. About three-fourths were

men--only a few courageous souls took

families with them to Roo. A majority of the,

men were decent-looking representatives of

several of the System planets, but there were a

number of tough-looking individuals.

An annunciator on the wall spoke

authoritatively. "Captain Kasro speaking! We

take off in ten minutes. You must either be in

your bunks or strapped into recoil-chairs, in

five minutes. Do not leave your chairs or

bunks until further announcement."

Newton found a recoil-chair and strapped

himself in. Inwardly he was listening tensely

for a Patrol car's screamer.

"I'm John Gordon and this is my wife," said

the young Earthman on his right. He stuck out

his hand. "Guess we're to be fellow-

passengers."

Captain Future liked the look of Gordon, a

wiry, pleasant-faced young fellow whose wife

was a pale, pretty girl. But he kept up his part.

"My name's Rab Cain," he muttered, looking

nervously at the door. "Wish we'd hurry and

take off."

The hulking Jovian in the chair on his left

guffawed derisively. "You won't be so eager

when we do take off! They say the acceleration

on these star-ships tears a man apart."

"John, that isn't so, is it?" murmured the pale

girl to her husband.

"Of course not," Gordon said, with an

indignant glance at the Jovian. "They only use

ordinary rockets for the take-off from Venus.

Then when we get outside the space-lanes they

start the vibration-drive for high speed--but

they use a cushioning stasis of force to reduce

the drag. The man at the Emigrant Bureau

explained it all to me."

Captain Future listened with a wry smile. He

and the Futuremen had invented both the

vibration-drive and the stasis-cushion.

That seemed a long time ago, he thought, but

it was really--only ten years. Yet, those ten

years had brought great things from the

invention he had given to the System.

NOW he was going starward again. But alone

this time, in another identity, bound for a world

of deadly intrigue and danger.

"One minute to take-off!" the annunciator

said sharply.

A nervous stir ran over the emigrants. A

steward darted into the salon, inspected them

quickly, then entered his own recoil-chair.

Space-doors had shut, oxygenators were

throbbing.

The rockets let go with a muffled roar.

Hydro-springs screamed protest under their

chairs as the Starfarer lurched skyward. The

rockets fired steadily. Through the porthole,

Newton glimpsed the misty, shadowed sphere

of Venus dropping rapidly away.

A half-hour later, the rockets were cut off.

They were outside the space-lanes, ready for

the real start of the interstellar leap.

"Stasis on!" warned the annunciator. "Keep

your chairs!"

A pale glow of force bathed the salon. But it

was force, not light--a subtle stasis that now

gripped everything in the ship.

"I guess this is where they turn on the drive,"

John Gordon said uncertainly to his wife. He

patted her hand. "It won't bother us."

No rockets roared, this time. But Captain

Future heard the low hum of the vibration-

drive start a moment before the Starfarer

leaped forward with incredible velocity

through space.

That sudden acceleration would have crushed

them like flies, but for the cushion of the stasis.

The protecting aura of force was like a

tangible, elastic medium surrounding them,

pervading even their bodies to prevent internal

injuries.

Newton was used to the sickening drag and

shock. But he pretended apprehension and

nausea equal to those of his fellow-passengers.

He heard a yelp of terror from a Mercurian

opposite him, and a woman's choking cry.

The dragging sensation lessened. The eery

yellow glow of the stasis dimmed, now they

had built up the first high velocity.

"Take-off completed," came the reassuring

announcement. "You may leave your chairs

until the next acceleration-period."

"Look out the window there!" cried an

astounded Martian. "Look at space!"

The emigrants, noisy now with relief and still

a little shaky, crowded around the porthole

windows, and cried out in wonder.

The Starfarer was plunging at a nightmare

rate through a dark and awesome abyss. There

was nothing but blackness and emptiness and

stars.

The passengers' own Solar System, the

yellow spark of the Sun, was almost invisible

in a twisted blur of distorted light-rays behind.

Ahead, the small red speck of Arkar could just

be seen, as remote and detached as the other

stars.

"The heavens declare the glory of God, and the

firmament showeth His handiwork," quoted

the awed John Gordon, watching with his wife.

The girl shuddered. "It's so empty, so lonely,

out here."

Curt Newton knew how these people felt. He

had felt it many times himself. Never could

these cold vastnesses become commonplace to

him.

"It's so far!" Ruth Gordon was whispering,

looking toward Arkar's red spark. "Our own

Sun and Earth--trillions of miles away."

"We'll come back," Gordon said stoutly. "In

ten years we'll make a fortune growing vitron

out there on Roo. Then we'll return."

She smiled bravely up at him. Captain Future,

watching, felt a queer envy of their happiness.

It made him think of Joan Randall. He had

not seen her before leaving on this dangerous

business. Now he wished it could have been

otherwise.

Newton brought his mind sharply back to his

immediate task. He must lose no time in

establishing the new character he meant to

assume.

Hating his chosen role, Curt Newton forced

himself to speak out loudly and offensively.

"Cursed if I couldn't use a drink, after that

take-off! Why the devil won't they let you

bring liquor aboard, anyway?"

The big, rough Jovian near him grinned

knowingly. "You can bring it if you know how

to hide it, Earthman."

The green-skinned man of Jupiter reached

into his jacket and brought out a flat bottle.

"Marsh brandy--have some."

Gordon frowned with disapproval. "There's

strict rules against drinking on a space-ship."

"Rules?" jeered Curt Newton. "I don't live by

rules. I'm leaving the blasted System to get

away from some of their rules."

The Jovian guffawed. "Me too, Earthman. I'm

Jok Korrin. Signed out to Roo as an emigrant.

Told 'em I was a farmer--ha, ha!"

THE marsh-brandy stung Newton's throat but

he wiped his lips appreciatively as he handed

the bottle back. "Same here," he grunted. "I'm

hanged if I'm going to grub vitron-plants on

Roo."

A scrawny Saturnian with fishy eyes in a dull

gray face, who had given his name as Li Sharn,

heard this.

"There's lots of planet-jumpers hiding out on

Roo, already," he said gibingly to Newton.

Newton swaggered. "I'm no scared planet-

jumper," he boasted. "You'd be surprised if

you knew just why I'm on this cursed ship."

His loud voice, the presence of the bottle, had

drawn a dozen of the tougher-looking

emigrants around. Gordon and the other men

with wives had drawn away in distaste.

Captain Future noticed that, and felt that his

efforts were succeeding. He was, from the very

outset of the voyage, establishing the character

in which he desired to appear on Roo.

"I could tell you something about what I've

done that you wouldn't believe," he boasted.

"But I'm not one to brag."

"Listen to the Earthman," jeered the

Saturnian, Li Sharn. "You'd think to hear him

talk he was the Falcon and John Had-don

rolled into one."

"Maybe not, but I did something neither of

those cursed space-pirates ever was able to

do," said Newton wisely. "Only, I'm not

talking."

John Gordon pushed his way into the group.

His clean-cut face was stern with suppressed

anger.

"There are women in this salon," Gordon

snapped. "You men can either control your

language or go to your cabins."

Jok Kerrin turned on him wrathfully. "Who

do you think you are, Earthman? Go to your

own cabin, if you don't like the way we talk."

Gordon clenched his fist and swung at the

Jovian. Newton grabbed his arm. "You can't hit

any friend of mine!" Captain Future blustered.

"What's going on here?" demanded a new,

authoritative voice.

The tall, gimlet-eyed Venusian who spoke

wore the uniform and insignia of ship-captain.

Two other officers were with him, and an

excited steward.

The wrangling group hastily split up. The

steward was pointing at Curt Newton.

"That's the man, sir--the one called Rab

Cain."

Captain Kasro advanced and stared into

Newton's scarred, disguised face. "You're Rab

Cain? You boarded this ship at Venus-opolis

just before take-off?"

Captain Future knew what was coming. He

counterfeited mingled sullenness and

apprehension. "That's my name. What of it?"

"We just received a message about you from

Venusopolis, by undimensional-wave," Kasro

said. "You're the man who gravely wounded

Captain Future in a fight there just before our

take-off."

"Captain Future wounded by this man Cain?"

cried John Gordon incredulously.

"Badly wounded--they say he's still living

but that's about all," said Captain Kasro.

Newton saw the shock in the faces of the

decent immigrants.

"Any rat who would try to murder Captain

Future deserves to be lynched!" exclaimed

Gordon wrathfully.

CHAPTER V

World of Arkar

HOURLY Captain Future had expected the

news of the "shooting" to catch up to him.

Starships these days, even though traveling

faster than light, maintained instantaneous

communication by the undimensional wave

that carried telaudio signals in a short-cut

across dimensions.

But Curt Newton hadn't expected such fierce

indignation toward Rab Cain. It took him

aback, momentarily. Nevertheless, he had to

brazen out his part.

"I shot Captain Future in self-defense!" he

sneered. "He drew his atom-gun on me --and I

protected myself."

"If Captain Future drew a weapon on you, he

undoubtedly had good reason," said the ship

captain in a blistering tone.

A chorus of agreement came from most of the

crowd around them. Newton bared snarling

teeth.

"Did the Planet Patrol say they wanted me?"

he demanded.

"N-no!" admitted Captain Kasro reluctantly.

"You see?" said Newton in triumph. "They

didn't put any charge against me because they

knew it was self-defense. So you've got no

right to bully me."

The captain bit his lip. "Technically, you're

correct. Just the same, Cain, I warn you that

we're watching you. The first disorder you

cause on this ship, you go into the brig." He

turned on his heel and left the crowd. Curt

Newton looked around the black faces of the

emigrants, swaggering defiantly.

"Nobody can bluff Rab Cain," he boasted.

"Not Captain Future, even. He tried it, and he

got his."

"Cain, I wouldn't be in your shoes!" said John

Gordon, showing his dislike. "The reason the

Patrol made no charge against you is

obvious--the Futuremen intend to take care of

you themselves for wounding their leader. And

heaven help you when those three catch up to

you some day."

Curt Newton grew boastful. "I'm not afraid of

them."

Gordon and most of the other emigrants

turned away from him in disgust. But some of

the tougher element remained, eying Rab Cain

with new respect.

"You really beat out Future himself in a gun-

fight?" muttered Jok Kerrin incredulously. "I

can hardly believe that Future couldn't handle

you."

"Maybe you think I'm soft?" rasped Curt

Newton, scowling. "Maybe you'd like to try me

out, Jovian?"

"Take it easy, Cain," advised the fishy-eyed

Saturnian, Li Sharn. "Nobody here is hunting

trouble."

Newton saw that he had made an impression

as a tough, quarrelsome character. That was

what he wanted, for his purpose was to

penetrate the rebellious conspiracy on Roo as

quickly as possible. The best way to do that

was to join the rebellious party, to work from

the inside. With Rab Cain already a marked

trouble-maker, his chances of that were better.

Time after time, in the hours that followed,

the emigrants had to return to the recoil-chairs

while the vibration-drive again went on. The

Starfarer was methodically building up speed.

Already it was streaking through the abyss ten

times faster than light--a velocity thought

impossible a century before, when there had

persisted a faulty conception of the relation of

velocity to mass.

Captain Future heard John Gordon reassure

his wife. "Only four more days of acceleration-

periods. Then we get a week's rest before they

start decelerating."

"I'll be glad when we're safely in Roo,"

murmured the girl.

Li Sharn, the Saturnian, heard her and

laughed mirthlessly. "Safety? There's no safety

on Roo, these days."

"What do you mean?" demanded Gordon.

"The Government emigration bureau told us

that Roo's natural conditions are good for

System people."

"The Government paints a rosy picture to get

emigrants," retorted Li Sharn. "They got me to

emigrate to Roo, four years ago, but now it's so

dangerous I'm trying to sell my holding. I've

been back to the System for that purpose."

Captain Future saw dismay appear on the

faces of the listening emigrants. "What's so

dangerous on Roo?" Gordon demanded.

"The Roons," answered the Saturnian. "The

natives of the red jungles are an un-human lot

of devils who have turned hostile in the last

year. They raid the plantations on the fringes

of the colony, burn and kill and destroy, and

then vanish into the jun-gle."

"But surely," put in a slow-spoken, stocky

young Jovian emigrant, "surely the System

Government will stop all that?"

LI SHARN looked at him cynically. "When

you get to Roo, you'll find out the Government

won't raise a finger to protect the colony. What

do those bureaucrats in Great New York care

about our troubles when we're trillions of miles

away? Why, they won't even give us arms to

defend ourselves."

John Gordon spoke firmly. "I don't believe it.

The System Government isn't perfect, but it

has always worked for the good of all its

peoples."

Li Sharn shrugged. "You'll change your mind

when you get to Roo."

Captain Future saw the emigrants were

troubled after the Saturnian had strolled away.

Li Sharn had sown a seed of doubt.

"And he did it deliberately," thought Curt

Newton. "Maybe this Saturnian is a lead to the

conspiracy."

Newton had suddenly realized the

conspirators on Roo might have agents on

these emigrant ships to foster anti-Government

sentiment.

"Devilish clever," thought Captain Future.

"They start their propaganda before they reach

Roo."

He strolled after Li Sharn. "You've lived on

Roo four years?" he said. "Maybe you can tell

me what I can find to do there?"

"The government office will give you a free

land-grant for a plantation, and sell you tools

and vitron-seeds at cost," Li Sharn answered.

"I don't want to sweat raising vitron!"

grumbled Newton. "I'm only on my way to

Roo because this ship was the first craft out of

Venusopolis when I was in a hurry."

But the Saturnian remained non committal.

"You'll find something to do. There are always

opportunities on a world like Roo."

Curt was disappointed. But he still believed

Li Sharn was connected with the rebellion

party, and watched the Saturnian closely in the

next few days.

The acceleration-periods ceased, and the

Starfarer now moved silently in what seemed

no more than a crawl through these vast

spaces. The oppressiveness of interstellar space

was telling on the emigrants. They had been

excited and noisy the first few days, but that

had faded away.

These people, Captain Future knew, were

discovering the difference between interstellar

and interplanetary travel. There was nothing

out here but the vast gloom of darkness and the

pinpoint stars. You didn't feel as though you

were traveling toward a destination. You felt as

though your ship and all on it were falling

headlong through an infinite abyss.

Li Sharn increased the depression of the

emigrants by spreading his propaganda of fear,

until John Gordon flared up at the Saturnian,

on the fifteenth day. "Why do you keep

discouraging these people? You've got most of

them worried sick."

Li Sharn shrugged. "It's not my fault that

things are like that on Roo. It's the fault of the

System Government."

"The System Government gave us our chance

to emigrate to Roo, and I don't want to hear

any more criticism of it," snapped Gordon.

Captain Future saw the chance. He strode

forward, scowling at Gordon. "Who says Li

Sharn can't talk? Do you think you own this

ship?"

Gordon eyed him with cold antagonism.

"Cain, you stay out of this. You're lucky that

you haven't been space-jettisoned by the

decent people on this ship."

Newton uttered an angry roar and swung at

John Gordon's chin. Gordon ducked back.

Next moment, they were exchanging blows.

An excited ring of emigrants formed around

them. Nine-tenths of them shouted for Gordon.

Curt Newton meant only to prolong the fight

until it was broken up. He didn't really want to

hurt Gordon, and purposely missed most of his

vicious-looking swings. Gordon was a hard,

fast boxer. The young emigrant's fist collided

with Newton's jaw and sent him sprawling

back on the floor, half-dazed.

A yell of jubilation went up from the throng

of onlookers. "That's giving it to the rat,

Gordon!"

Captain Future, seething with assumed fury,

glared up at Gordon. "It's lucky I ain't got my

gun on me!" he yelled.

"That's the only time space-scum like you are

ever dangerous, with atom-guns!" said Gordon,

turning away in contempt.

CURT NEWTON got up and found himself

deserted. Sullenly he slunk out of the salon and

he stood rubbing his chin by a corridor

porthole. Li Sharn came up to him.

"It was foolish of you to mix into that, Cain,"

said the Saturnian. "I can take care of my own

arguments."

"You and your arguments weren't what got

me going," Captain Future growled. "It was

Gordon sticking up for the Government."

The Saturnian's fishy eyes narrowed. "You

don't like the System Government?"

Newton's reply was a blistering oath. "The

cursed Government and its prying officials

broke up the best business I ever had. It wasn't

enough for them to get holy about what I was

doing, they had to send Captain Future to

pester me."

Li Sharn's voice was casual. "Well, I suppose

I owe you something for your efforts. I may be

able to get you some kind of a job on Roo."

The Saturnian made no further promises.

But after he had gone on, Captain Future felt a

small thrill of hope. He rubbed his chin

ruefully and grinned.

"I'm beginning to like that chap Gordon," he

murmured.

"Deceleration-period!" warned the

annunciators. "All into recoil-chairs!"

They decelerated with increasing frequency

in the next few days. For now Arkar, a small,

flaring red sun, was becoming visibly larger.

On the twentieth day, Arkar filled a quarter of

the heavens ahead. The star, much larger than

our Sun, shone with ominous blood-like

splendor. Even through the glare-proof

windows, its radiance blinded the excited,

watching emigrants. But they could make out

three planets that circled Arkar like gleaming

specks of light.

"Roo is the innermost planet," Li Sharn told

Captain Future. "The other two planets are

uninhabitable."

Newton nodded. "So I've heard," he said

dryly.

He was thinking of the time, ten years before,

when he and the Futuremen had first explored

this system.

He looked back at the blur of space astern.

The Futuremen must be somewhere back there

now, secretly rushing on after the Starfarer in

their own small ship. And Philip Carlin and the

other two vitron-scientists must have already

been on Roo for several days, for they had

taken the first ship while Newton had been

preparing the scene on Venus.

Blood-red light beat fiercely through the

portholes as the Starfarer swung in around

Arkar. The vibration-drive had been cut off

and the bow and lateral rockets exploded

frequently to check and guide their rush.

Roo loomed up big ahead, a dull red ball.

Curt Newton's heart beat faster at sight of it.

Vitron meant health and life to nine worlds of

people, back across the abyss. He mustn't fail

here!

The crimson planet was circled by a smaller,

dark sphere. It was a little moon, and one

whose albedo was extraordinarily low, since it

reflected almost no light. Black Moon, the

Roons called it.

"So this is Roo?" muttered one of the staring

emigrants. "It looks plenty wild."

Wild and forbidding, indeed, was the planet

spinning beneath them. Hardly bigger than

Earth, its surface was blanketed by dense

crimson jungles from horizon to horizon

except that part covered by mountain-ringed,

ocher-colored oceans in the south and the far

north.

"Recoil-chairs!" called the annunciator.

"Everybody in their recoil-chairs for landing!"

The scream of parting atmosphere came from

outside. The Starfarer was rushing down across

the jungles of the red world.

"I didn't know the place was as wild as this,"

Newton growled to Li Sharn. "I wish to space

I'd never come."

"You'll get along all right here," assured the

Saturnian. "Stick to me when we leave the

ship, that's all."

Newton's hopes bounded. But now the keel

rockets let go with a deafening roar, as the big

ship settled further toward the planet.

Through the portholes, there came into view

far ahead a large, roughly oblong expanse of

clear land, near the equator. It covered fifty

miles, like a great scar in the red jungle.

Captain Future glimpsed tilled fields, small,

isolated white plantation-houses. Soon a whole

cluster of such white cement structures came in

view, a town of some size.

"That's Rootown!" someone called. "That's

the colony center!"

THE Starfarer's bow tubes thundered and the

big ship hesitated in mid-air. Then, on roaring

keel-tubes, it sank slowly down through the

sunshine toward a scorched landing-field at the

eastern edge of Rootown.

The small shock of landing was followed by a

sharp ringing of bells through the ship. There

was a grinding sound. Then a pecu-iar silence

clapped down. It took a moment to realize that

it was caused by the shut-' ting off of the

throbbing oxygenators, for the first time in

three weeks.

"We're here, Ruth!" John Gordon's eyes were

shining. "Our new home, our new world!"

"Something's happening!" exclaimed Jok

Kerrin, the big Jovian. "What's going on

there?"

Captain Future was already at a window. Out

on the landing field, men were running

excitedly toward the town. Rocket-cars were

racing in the same direction.

Li Sharn uttered an exclamation. "That means

trouble."

They crowded to get out of the ship.

Weird and alien the new world seemed. The

soil under their feet, blackened by rocket-

blasts, was dull yellow. The grass that patched

it was of the vivid red color of the distant

jungles.

The scorching mid-afternoon brilliance of

monster Arkar stunned their eyes. Under its

glare, the white cement structures of the nearby

town stood out against the unearthly brazen

sky. The air was hot, damp, heavy with scents.

A dim, rising roar of voices came from the

town. Men were still running from the

spaceport in that direction.

Li Sharn called to an excited spaceport

attendant. "What's up?"

"Big riot of some kind!" yelled the man. "It

looks like Harmer's secession party is going to

take over!"

Captain Future felt a shock of alarm and

dismay. Riot and rebellion already reaching a

climax on Roo? Jed Harmer's rebellious

followers seizing the rule of the planet? Then!

he had reached here too late!

CHAPTER VI

The Roons

DURING the night, before the Starfarer

arrived, Dr. Philip Carlin, botanist, sat in a

mood of profound discouragement in an

isolated plantation-house near the edge of the

Roo colony.

This plantation lay miles south of Rootown,

so near the jungle that the dank breath of that

night hidden forest came through the screened

windows in a miasmic exhalation, freighted

with strange scents and spices and rot-smells,

bringing murmurs of birds and insects.

Carlin looked across the lighted room at

solemn Zamok and worried Lin Sao.

"So it boils down to the fact that we've been

here nearly a week without accomplishing

anything," he muttered.

Lin Sao shrugged fat shoulders. "We've had

to be careful. Scientists can't show too much

interest in politics."

"But we still don't know who's behind

Harmer's plot, or who or what is inciting the

Roons to these raids," said Carlin.

He looked gloomily around the room. They

had leased this plantation, with its thousand

acres of vitron shrubs, from an owner who was

only too glad to leave Roo. They had fitted up

the living-room as a laboratory, in line with

their announced intention of carrying on

research to better the strain of vitron plants.

The tables of apparatus, the delicate

microscopes and electro-scanners and testers,

had dust on them. They gave Carlin a sick,

sudden longing for his own shining laboratory

in faraway Great New York.

He shook off the thought. After all, Captain

Future had only asked them to establish an

isolated headquarters here in the Roo colony

and then wait for instructions. They had done

that.

Yet he wished they could greet Newton, when

he came, with some real information or help.

"That fellow Ka Thaar," Zamok was saying,

"the young Mercurian who's constantly with

Jed Harmer. Have either of you learned

anything about him?"

Lin Sao frowned. "Ostensibly, he's Harmer's

plantation overseer. But it's all sham. He

doesn't know a vitron shrub from a feather-

tree. He looks more like Harmer's bodyguard,

to me."

"Wait a minute--listen," said Philip Carlin,

staring at the windows. There had been a

sound--a faint something that did not fit the

pattern of wind and bird and insect noises.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know." Carlin went to the door and

stepped out onto the veranda of the long, low

plantation house.

Night lay solid over Roo. Black Moon was

the merest shadowy ghost of a disk in the

western sky. It illuminated the long, low fields

of spiky vitron-shrubs beyond.

A distant roaring sound, rising and falling on

the breeze, came from the west. The feather-

trees whispered to themselves. Then, two tiny

jets of white fire low in the western darkness

were followed by sharp, ripping sounds.

"Atom-guns!" cried Zamok. "That means--"

The siren came slashing across his words, a

faraway keening wail that rose like a shriek of

the damned.

It had but one meaning. Every plantation out

here on the fringes of the colony had such a

siren these days.

"Roon raid!" yelled Lin Sao. "That's Horth

Or's plantation they're attacking!"

"Bring out one of the cars!" shouted Carlin.

"I'll get the guns!"

He plunged back into the house and hastily

belted on one of the heavy atom-pistols that

always hung close inside the door. Then he

grabbed two others and leaped back out.

Confusion had shattered the night. The sirens

were going now to east, north and west,

plantation after plantation taking up and

passing on the warning.

The low-slung rocket-car roared out of its

shed with a blast of fire from its tubes, Lin Sao

in the driver's seat. Carlin scrambled in with

the Martian and tossed them the gun-belts.

Bucketing along the mud road by the faint

splash of the headlamps, Carlin saw other car-

lights approaching at high speed. Every planter

here was obligated by mutual defense to

respond in such emergencies.

"They've fired the sheds!" yelled Zamok.

YELLOW flame splashed the darkness a

mile ahead, licking up golden tongues

from a half-dozen points. They heard shrill

cries, and then again the crash of atom-guns.

Carlin's heart slugged his ribs. What was he

doing here in a speeding rocket-car, clutching

the butt of a heavy atom-pistol in his sweating

palm, he who knew nothing of battle or

conflict?

"There they are!" cried Lin Sao. "See 'em?"

Carlin saw them. Red humanoid figures,

outlined against the leaping flames of Horth

Or's bunkhouse and vitron-sheds, looking like

medieval devils as they battered at the door of

the plantation-house.

An earsplitting crash beside him deafened

Carlin, and a scorching breath hit his cheek.

Zamok was firing at the leaping figures ahead.

Lin Sao had slewed the car around into the

zone of fire light. Carlin was dimly aware of

the hellish scream of distant sirens, of the roar

of other cars coming up the road, of the atom-

gun kicking vigorously in his hand.

He had triggered too hard and the weapon

kicked up like a bolt of lightning above the

Roons outside the house. He piled out of the

car with his two friends, as a dozen planters

and workers hastily disembarked from cars

now rushing up. Guns crashed deafeningly.

"There they go!" yelled the hoarse voice.

The Roons had turned. Carlin glimpsed

parrot-beaked red faces, smooth-muscled red

bodies clad in soft gray leather tunics, arms

raised with queer wooden weapons.

Roon darts pattered around them. The door of

the plantation-house opened and Horth Or and

another man appeared. The Jovian planter was

yelling and firing at the Roons.

The Roons had no intention of facing the

gathering forces. A weird signal-call shrilled

among them, and they darted back into the

jungle.

Carlin found himself running with the others

up to the blazing plantation. Horth Or met

them, his Jovian green face contorted with

rage.

"They killed two of my workers, the devils!

Caught us by surprise!"

A stern-faced Venusian planter shouted to the

gathering throng of armed colonists.

"Cut them off before they get back into the

deep jungle! Horth, you and half the men take

the left--the rest of us will take the right."

Carlin and his two companions were swept

along by the rush of vengeance-hungry men

toward the jungle. They spread out and started

to beat the undergrowth.

Everything was still a whirl in Carlin's mind.

His feet tripped in loose earth, and crushed

spiky little shrubs under his soles.

"We're spoiling one of Horth Or's fields of

vitron-seedlings," he thought, absurdly. "We

ought to have gone around."

Crashing atom-guns let go some distance to

his left, but Horth Or was shooting in mere

blind rage. There was a movement of shadows

into the dark jungle wall ahead, and nothing

more.

"Fan out," yelled their temporary leader.

They were at the edge of the jungle--not the

vast impenetrable forest that covered most of

Roo, but a region of brush and scrub.

Alone, Carlin shoved through the damp,

undergrowth. Yells ripped the night to right

and left of him. A startled, demoniac screech

came down from the sky as unseen night-

dragons flapped away. Carlin's heart was

pounding with excitement.

Something shadowy stirred ahead, and Carlin

pressed trigger and speared a white bolt of

energy into the dark brush.

Then he felt foolish. "Shooting at shadows! I

just don't know anything about this sort of

thing."

He moved forward. And in twenty steps, he

stumbled over the body of a man.

Carlin recoiled with a little startled yelp, got

his pocket-flash out and turned its beam down.

What he saw made him feel sick.

It was the body of a Roon warrior, crumpled

up. The side of his head was freshly scorched

and bleeding. Carlin knew then it was no

shadow he had fired at.

BUT the humanity of that pathetically limp,

curled body! He'd thought of the Roons,

always, as something less than human. Their

curious red skins, the parrot-beaked faces and

big, round eyes--these didn't keep this man

now from seeming to Carlin as human as

himself.

"Buck fever," Carlin told himself, trying to

laugh. "First time I ever killed anyone. An

inevitable nervous reaction."

It wouldn't work. He couldn't make himself

feel like a tough, relentless fighting-man.

He noticed the Roon's chest was heaving

slightly. Bending over, he examined the

tribesman. The Roon had been merely grazed

by his gun-blast. The fellow was stunned, not

dead.

Carlin felt weak with relief. He swore shakily

to himself. "I'm just not cut out for this kind of

work."

He raised his head to yell to the others. Then

a sudden thought kept him silent.

"Why," he thought excitedly, "this fellow

would be valuable--to us."

His brain raced. Captain Future had stressed

the paramount importance of finding out who

was inciting the Roons to these raids. Why

not question a captured Roon?

Carlin heard Lin Sao blundering through the

brush nearby, and called in a low voice. The

Venusian scientist came stumbling to him.

"Devils of Venus--you've killed one of

them?"

"Not killed--stunned," Carlin said swiftly.

"Listen, Lin, I want to get this Roon back to

our plantation without the others knowing. Tell

Zamok and bring our rocket-car. Hurry!"

Darkness and the fact that Horth Or and the

others were still searching the brush, aided

them. Ten minutes later they loaded the

unconscious Roon into it. Carlin had bound the

tribesman's wrists.

"Stay here so our absence won't be noticed,

Zamok," he whispered. "Then come back as

soon as you can get away."

The Martian nodded understandingly.

Carlin drove the low-slung car past the

smoldering ruins of the sheds. Two dead

workers lay there, with darts sticking in their

throats. Dawn was paling the sky as they drove

rapidly homeward. Carlin was feeling a

curious exhilaration that lifted him above

fatigue. For the first time, the sedentary young

scientist understood the queer lure of danger.

Their plantation-house, half hidden by the

surrounding grove of pinkish feather-trees,

glimmered in the full morning light of Arkar

when they pulled up before it. Lin Sao grunted

as they carried the unconscious Roon into the

house. The tribesman was heavy.

They used insulated cable to bind their

captive tightly into a chair in Carlin's bedroom.

Then the Venusian sterilized and bandaged the

scorched wound on the Roon's head.

The Roon awoke under these ministrations. In

the parrot-beaked red face, black eyes flashed

alarm and he sought to jump up. Then, glaring

at them like a trapped jungle-cat, he tried to

break his bonds.

Carlin knew the dialect of the Roons. He had

learned it on Roo eight years before, when the

tribes were friendly. It was, like most

languages of humanoid races throughout the

universe, based on the language of those

ancient Denebian pioneers of space whose

descendants all human races were.

"We are not going to hurt you," he told the

Roon earnestly. "We want you to tell us

things."

The glare in the enormous black eyes of the

Roon warrior died down a little, but he

regarded them with sullen defiance.

"What is your name?" Carlin asked.

"I am Gaa," said the Roon. "When I get free, I

will kill you. You star-men must leave Roo.

We shall keep attacking you until all of you

go."

"But why, Gaa," demanded the Earthman.

"Formerly, your tribes were friendly. Now

suddenly you turn hostile and demand we

leave. Why?"

Gaa's face became like red stone. "All star-

men must leave Roo. If you do not, disaster

will overtake our world."

He would not say more. Carlin looked

helplessly at Lin Sao. "What do you make of

it?"

The Venusian scientist's plump face was

thoughtful. "Somehow, their superstitions have

been aroused."

They plied the Roon with questions, for

hours. But Gaa would not speak another word.

He only stared stonily at them.

It was hot afternoon by the time they wearily

desisted. At that moment came the roar of a

rocket-car stopping outside. The car went on

again quickly. A moment later, Zamok burst

into the room.

THE elderly Martian was exhausted and

worried. "The devil is popping!" he exclaimed.

"Horth Or and a lot of the other planters have

gone into Rootown. They're wild with rage at

this new raid, and swear they'll rouse the whole

colony if Governor King doesn't take action

this time."

Carlin was dismayed. "This is bad. We'll go

into Rootown and see if we can't quiet them

down a little some way. You come along,

Zamok--Lin, I want you to stay and watch this

Roon."

The rocket-car took him and the Martian

northward along rude roads that ran between

endless fields of spiky gray vitron-shrubs and

isolated plantation houses.

Rootown came into view ahead, a low and

unimpressive mass of white blocks. A few

rocket-fliers were buzzing above the town, and

the streets that led to its plaza were streaming

with rocket-cars and excited people. As they

pulled up their machine and hurried toward the

plaza on foot, they could hear a roar of voices.

No one in Rootown was paying any attention

to the spaceport a mile away where the weekly

liner from the System was berthing. Ordinarily,

a crowd would have been there to watch the

Starfarer landing.

"There's Horth Or!" exclaimed Carlin as they

entered the plaza.

Horth Or stood on the hood of his rocket-car,

above the crowd. The Jovian planter's massive

face was dark with emotion under the brim of

his sun-helmet, as he pointed to two bodies

that lay in his car.

"Two of my workers, killed by those

murdering red devils!" he was shouting to the

crowd. "My sheds burned, my equipment

wrecked. How long do we have to put up with

these raids?"

A roar of angry voices chorused agreement.

"It's time we taught the Roons a lesson!"

"There comes Walker King, the Governor,"

muttered Zamok to Carlin. "He's a fool to show

himself here now. It will only provoke them

more."

Walker King was a thin, aging Earthman

whose short-sighted, worried eyes blinked

through his spectacles as he pushed through

the crowd. His graying hair was uncovered in

the red glare, and he had apparently come

hurriedly to the scene.

The furious Jovian planter saw him, and

pointed to his dead workers. "That's more

Roon work! What are we going to do about

it?"

King showed he was nervous.

"The Roons must have overpowered the

sentinels I posted in the southern jungles," he

answered. "We'll try -to devise a better system.

You must be patient--"

An angry roar from the crowd drowned his

words. The roar changed to one of applause as

a pudgy man made his way through the throng.

"Harmer! Jed Harmer! Speak for the

colonists, Harmer!"

Jed Harmer was a plump, benevolent-looking

Earthman of fifty. He wore the sun-helmet and

zipper-suit of a planter, though he was

innocent of any stains of toil. His bland, round

face and mild eyes mirrored concern as he

climbed up beside Horth Or.

Close behind him came a young Mercurian.

Boyish in years, there was nothing youthful in

his lean face and contemptuous eyes.

"Harmer, and Ka Thaar!" groaned Zamok.

"There's going to be a blow-off. This crowd is

ripe for action."

Philip Carlin looked around in desperation.

He sensed the imminence of immediate

rebellion, the thing he had feared.

"--and last night's outrage was no isolated

thing," Jed Harmer was saying to the crowd.

"It will happen again and again until we

organize and go into the jungle and wipe out

the Roon villages."

He looked down at Walker King. "We

demand that you give us heavy atom-guns and

other weapons for such a punitive expedition."

The Governor shook his head. "I can't do that.

It's utterly against the System Government's

policy to massacre the native inhabitants of

this world. But the Government will set up

better defenses."

"To blazes with the Government!" flared

Horth Or furiously. "If it won't protect us, we

should secede and form our own independent

government."

"Yes, independence for Roo!" yelled scores

of voices instantly.

"Fellow-colonists, it is a grave thing to secede

from the System Government," Jed Harmer

oratorically told the crowd. "But we must

protect our homes and families."

"The rebellion's going to break and Captain

Future and his friends aren't here yet!" groaned

Carlin. "I've got to try to stop it."

"Ka Thaar will stop you before you can say a

word!" warned Zamok.

But Philip Carlin was already striding

desperately forward. Useless as the attempt

might be, he couldn't stand by and do nothing.

CHAPTER VII

Planet of Intrigue

AS SOON as he emerged with the other

emigrants from the Starfarer, Captain Future

realized he had arrived on Roo in the middle of

a crisis.

There was almost no one at the spaceport to

greet the ship. Everyone was streaming

excitedly toward the white buildings of

Rootown, a mile westward. One of the running

colonists, to whom Li Sharn called a question,

shouted a reply that inflamed the Saturnian.

"Jed Harmer's speaking to the colonists now.

There was another Roon raid last night, and the

whole colony is seething!"

Li Sharn's pale eyes glittered. He grabbed

Curt Newton's sleeve. "Cain, come with me.

The rest of you people--you'd better come

along, too. This concerns all of you."

He was addressing the emigrants who were

bewildered by the turmoil into which they had

come.

Curt Newton followed the excited Saturnian

across the spaceport toward the town. John

Gordon and his wife, and the other emigrants,

uncertainly followed. A few officials on hand

to check the passenger lists tried to restrain

them, but were swept aside. They were running

now, unfamiliar sun-helmets bobbing.

Captain Future was dismayed. "If the rebellion

breaks now, nothing can stop this planet from

becoming a devil's playground!" Newton

thought, groaning inwardly-

No secret agents' work would be of any avail

then to stem the torrent! Either the System

Government must admit the independence of

Roo, and permit a fatal monopoly of vitron, or

use force to quell the rebels.

Li Sharn was talking rapidly as they ran.

"Stick close to me, Cain. This may be the

blow-off, though I hadn't figured it was time

yet."

They had now entered the circular plaza. Here

were gathered several thousand colonists.

They were a hardy-looking crowd, these men

and women. Many were Venusians, the race

most at home in the scorching sunlight and

damp heat of this world. But also there were

large numbers of Earthmen, the proverbial

pioneers and trail-blazers of the Solar System.

Newton's eyes lifted to the pudgy, pompous

Earthman whose oratory was arousing the

crowd--Jed Harmer. His eyes flicked to the

young man standing just behind and below

Harmer.

"Dangerous!" rang the thought in Captain

Future's mind.

That cool, bored young Mercurian had

something in his tight, dark face that Curt

Newton had seen in killers' faces before.

"He's Ka Thaar, one of our party's top men,"

muttered Li Sharn in reply to his question.

"The skinny man's Walker King, the

Governor."

He was referring to the man now trying to

make himself heard against Harmer--a

spectacled Earthman with uncovered gray hair.

"I admit that my plan of defense against the,

Roons has failed, but in time I'll work out a

better defense-system," King was saying.

"In time, all our families will be murdered by

the Roons!" Jed Harmer retorted, with fierce

agreement from the crowd. "We've got to

smash the Roons."

A shrill voice screeched through the red

afternoon sunlight.

"You go into the jungles and you won't come

back! You'll die! Stay out of there! Leave Roo

to the Roons!"

It was a strange figure who screeched that

warning from the crowd. A hunched, grizzled

Earthman who wore a battered sun-hel-ment

and ragged zipper-suit. His face was gaunt and

unshaven, with mad blue eyes that glared at the

angry colonists.

"Remember I warned you all!" he shrilled.

"Remember that Jonny warned you! The

Roons will keep coming and keep killing you,

until you all leave Roo!"

His shouts added fuel to the anger of the

crowd.

Rough hands pushed the hunched, grizzled

figure out of the plaza.

"They won't hurt him," said Li Sharn. "Even

the Roons won't hurt Crazy Jonny."

"Crazy Jonny's right, in one thing," Jed

Harmer shouted to the crowd, adroitly utilizing

the interruption. "The Roons will keep coming

and killing us unless we stop them. Secession

is the only way we can protect ourselves."

Captain Future saw a crisis at hand.

Somehow, it must be averted. Desperately

glancing around, Captain Future's eyes fell on

John Gordon and the other newly-arrived

emigrants from the Starfarer. Curt Newton

instantly saw a possibility.

He jumped up onto a rocket-car.

"Me, I just got here but I'm for secession!" he

shouted. "And so are the rest of us new

emigrants!"

LI SHARN angrily plucked his ankle. "Get

down, Cain! Let Harmer run this!"

A cheer from Jed Harmer's supporters had

greeted "Rab Cain's" declaration. But that

declaration was instantly challenged by John

Gordon, as Captain Future had well known it

would be.

"This man has no right to speak," Gordon

cried, his clean-cut face flushed with anger.

"He's a criminal!"

Curt Newton uttered a roar of pretended rage.

"You can't call me a criminal, just because I

gunned down Captain Future in fair fight."

Excitement increased. "Is that true?" a man

asked. "Did this Earthman shoot Captain

Future?"

"Yes," rasped Gordon. "On Venus, the night

we left. Future was badly hurt in the fight."

The news created a sensation in the crowd.

Curt Newton had known it would. He was

counting on that sensation to divert the crowd's

attention.

His scheme worked. These people on Roo

were news-hungry. And here was a stunning

piece of news!

"Will you get down?" Li Sharn said furiously

to "Rab Cain." "You're spoiling everything!"

Newton dropped back to the ground, but was

surrounded by a big section of curious persons.

"A two-by-four Earthman like that beat our

Future?" growled a big Neptunian. "I don't

believe it."

"If he did, he ought to be shot!" flashed a

Venusian girl.

Newton glanced swiftly toward the center of

the plaza. Standing up there, Jed Harmer was

vainly trying to recapture the crowd's attention.

But Ka Thaar, the young Mercurian, was

glaring at Newton with a murderous hatred.

Curt Newton was puzzled. "What in space

makes him hate me like that? Is it possible he's

seen through my disguise?"

Li Sharn had Newton by the arm.

"We're getting out of here," snarled the

Saturnian. "Come on, Cain."

They forced a way out of the crowd. Li Sharn

led along a street to a hangar in which rocket-

cars were stored, and brought out his own

machine.

As he got into the car, Captain Future looked

back toward the plaza. The crowd had broken

into groups, and Jed Harmer and the Mercurian

had disappeared. At least, Curt Newton

thought, he had succeeded in postponing a

dangerous crisis.

Li Sharn drove westward along a muddy road

that ran between gray vitron-fields. The

enormous red disk of Arkar, declining toward

the horizon, poured down merciless heat. Not

until they were well out of the town did the

Saturnian turn and speak.

"You blundering idiot! Why the devil did you

sound off? Harmer had them all worked up."

Captain Future scowled. "How was I to

know? I thought I was helping you."

"You're a fool!" snapped the Saturnian. He

looked at Newton sharply. "You're too-hot-

headed. Why should we trust you?"

"Aw, don't talk dumb," scoffed Captain

Future. "You didn't pick me up because you

liked my looks. I'd rather throw an atom-gun

for your bunch than earn a living grubbing

vitron-plants. Give me a good cut and I'll play

your game."

For a while Li Sharn drove in silence.

"You're not as dumb as I thought, Cain," the

Saturnian said at last. "Maybe we can use you.

But that's up to the chief, not me."

"Do you mean Jed Harmer?" queried Captain

Future. "Don't tell me that fat politician is the

real head of your party?"

Li Sharn gave him a level glance. "Cain,

remember one thing--don't try to learn too

much. Got it?"

"Rab Cain" shrugged. "Sure. I don't care who

the real boss is."

They drove on, and Li Sharn continued his

grumbling. "The way you messed things up in

the plaza, I don't know whether or not Harmer

will take you in."

More than ever now Curt Newton realized

how desperate was the chance he was taking. If

the rebellious party didn't accept him, he

would be ruthlessly silenced forever! His gaze

rested on the long rows of spiky gray shrubs,

baking in the glare of sunset. That vitron was

the real stake for which a deadly game of

intrigue and violence was being played in this

remote star-colony. Those gray shrubs meant

health and long life to the System peoples--

but also they meant fabulous riches to the man

who could monopolize them.

"My holdings begin here," grunted Li Sharn

as they passed a boundary marker in the fields.

LI SHARN'S plantation was not a large one.

Half-mile fields of vitron, badly weed-grown

and neglected, surrounded a squat, bare cement

house to which were attached warehouse and

bunksheds.

A couple of yellow-faced Uranian workers

lolling lazily on the unswept veranda rose to

greet their employer. Curt Newton followed

the Saturnian into a slovenly living-room.

"We'll have dinner and then go over and see

Harmer," said Li Sharn. "His plantation is the

next one north of here."

As the brief twilight of Roo darkened,

Captain Future lounged around the plantation.

The warehouse was empty of dried vitron. The

plantation was a mere mask for Li Sharn's real

activities.

He, the Saturnian, and the two Uranians

shared a carelessly-cooked dinner which had

been cooked by a stringy, sullen Neptunian.

Then Newton followed Li Sharn out into the

darkness to the rocket-car.

"Keep your mouth shut and let me do the

talking with Harmer," warned Li Sharn as they

started. "And keep clear of Ka Thaar. He's

dangerous."

Night stretched over wild Roo in a velvety

darkness gemmed with a million stars. The

ghostly, glimmering sphere of Black Moon

was rising, a satellite so dim that one could

barely distinguish the outlines of its shadowed

surface.

Jed Harmer's plantation was only two miles

north of the Saturnian's. Their rocket-car

pulled up in front of a square cement house set

amid a grove of grotesque labyrinth-trees,

whose myriad limbs intertwined inextricably a

few yards above the ground.

A Venusian servant, who looked far too burly

to be a mere houseman, let them into the place.

They found Jed Harmer bent over a desk of

papers in a comfortable room, explaining

something to Ka Thaar. Harmer scowled as he

looked up and saw "Rab Cain." "Why did you

bring that idiot here, Li?"

"Rab Cain wants to work for our party," Li

Sharn said. "He's been of good service to me,

Jed."

"This afternoon he spoiled things in the

plaza!" exploded Jed Harmer. "If he hadn't

interrupted, I'd have had those people in open

rebellion."

"I'm sorry--I didn't know the score,"

mumbled Captain Future. "I was trying to help

you."

"He's a handy man with an atom-gun, Jed,"

said Li Sharn meaningly. "Anybody who could

best Future is good."

Harmer looked at "Rab Cain" curiously. "Did

you really outdraw Captain Future in a fair

fight?"

"Sure I did," boasted Curt Newton. "He was

bullying me in Venusopolis that night, and

started to draw his atom-pistol, but I was too

fast for him."

"You're lying!"

Newton turned, startled. Ka Thaar was

looking across the desk at him with an

expression that held the quintessence of hatred.

The young Mercurian's thin, swarthy face was

dark, his tawny eyes slitted. "There never was

a day when a space-tramp like you could

outmatch Captain Future in fair fight! You

played some cowardly trick on him if you did

beat him."

Newton let out an angry bellow. "That's not

so! What the devil are you--a friend of

Future's?"

Ka Thaar rose to his feet, his face seeming to

freeze. The youngster spoke in a whisper.

"Don't talk to me in that tone, Cain."

His hand hovered beside his jacket, inside

which the outline of an atom-pistol was plain.

Death loomed menacingly, there in the lamp-

lighted room.

Jed Harmer hurriedly intervened. "Take it

easy, Ka! And you, Cain--you watch the way

you talk here."

"All right, but he can't bully me," grumbled

Newton. "I don't like Future and I don't like his

friends, either."

Inwardly, he was puzzled by Ka Thaar's

bitterness. The Mercurian youngster was a

killer, an outlaw wanted in the System under

another name. Why should he take this

attitude?

"I'm not a friend of Captain Future's," Ka

Thaar said raspingly. "I only saw him once, ten

years ago when I was a boy on Mercury. I

know that Future's a man. If a cheap ruffian

like you managed to shoot him, it was in the

back. We can't use men of your type. I advise

you to leave Roo."

"Now wait a minute, Ka," complained Jed

Harmer. "It's not yours to decide. After all, I'm

the leader of this movement."

Ka Thaar looked at the pudgy politician and

laughed ironically. "You're really beginning to

think you are, aren't you?"

CURT NEWTON did not miss the implication.

Then Jed Harmer was only a figurehead of the

conspiracy, as they had calculated?

But who, then, was the real leader of the plot?

Ka Thaar himself? Captain Future did not

think so.

"We will need every loyal supporter we can

get when the rebellion begins," Harmer was

declaring. "You, Rab Cain, can be useful to us.

Li Sharn will hire you as one of his plantation

workers. You will comprehend our movement

better when you have been with us a little. We

are only seeking the good of the people of Roo.

The remote control of the System Government

is stifling this world. We must set it free of

those shackles."

Captain Future perceived that Jed Harmer

was the type of hypocrite who can deceive

even himself.

"If you insist on taking him in, all right," Ka

Thaar conceded sullenly. "But keep out of my

way, Cain!"

"Are there any orders for me?" Li Sharn

asked.

"We'll inform you in the morning," said

Harmer non-committally. "Better get back to

your plantation, now."

Captain Future was thinking fast. If they

expected to have orders for Li Sharn by

morning, it meant they were to see the

unknown leader of the conspiracy tonight.

"Here's a chance to learn the identity of the

man behind this thing at once!" Newton

thought.

He left the house with Li Sharn. As they

drove back to the Saturnian's plantation,

Newton's brain was busy with a plan.

The plantation was dark. Newton retired to

the dusty bedroom assigned him, and stretched

out on the cot. After an hour, he silently arose.

From his space-bag he fished out a tiny

instrument. He stuffed this into his pocket,

silently opened the screen of his window, and

stole across the dark veranda.

Captain Future moved straight across the

starlit vitron fields toward Harmer's plantation.

He had soon covered the two miles and was

warily approaching the rear of the house.

He slipped from shadow to shadow through

the grotesque, twined labyrinth-trees, alert for

automatic alarms. Light was gleaming from the

shuttered window of the room in which he had

met Harmer and Ka Thaar. They were still

there, then. Who was in there with them?

Curt Newton did not approach the window.

He knelt near it and affixed to the cement wall

the instrument he had brought. It was a super-

stethoscope, invaluable for eavesdropping.

He dimly heard Harmer's voice. "--But it

wasn't my fault!"

Suddenly the muzzle of an atom-pistol jabbed

Curt Newton's back. Startled, he turned his

head. Li Sharn stood behind him.

In the starlight, the Saturnian's face was

furious. "A spy then, after all?" he growled.

"You might have known I'd watch you at first,

Cain! You fool!"

Captain Future knew the man was on the

point of pressing the trigger, and knew too

with icy certainty that he could not possibly

move in time to escape instant death.

CHAPTER VIII

Alien Mystery

PHILIP CARLIN remained stunned by dismay

in the plaza of Rootown after the crowd began

to break up. Though relieved that open

rebellion had been temporarily averted, the

young scientist was now prey to a greater

anxiety.

"You heard, Zamok?" he gasped. "Captain

Future's been shot, badly hurt. That's why he

hasn't arrived on Roo!" "I can't believe it," said

the elderly Martian.

"You heard what that fellow Rab Cain said,"

Carlin reminded him.

Zamok's wrinkled red face wore a frown.

"Let's find out more about this."

They started across the plaza to where the

group of emigrants from the Starfarer stood

bunched together.

Walker King, the Governor, had approached

them and was speaking earnestly to the

bewildered group of newcomers.

"You people have had an unfortunate

introduction to Roo," King was saying. "But

don't let it worry you. Things will quiet down.

You'll be assigned temporary quarters here in

town until your land-grants can be surveyed

and your new homes constructed."

"Will our land be out on the edge of the

colony?" asked a serious-faced young Jovian

emigrant.

Walker King reluctantly admitted it. "You

see, we continually clear more land from the

jungle, and of course that's what is granted."

"But from what we heard, the Roons raid the

outer plantations?" persisted the Jovian,

uneasiness in his face.

"The Roons'll come and kill you, sure!"

cackled a shrill voice from behind the group.

It was "Crazy" Jonny. The hunched, grizzled

madman was wagging his head wisely as he

surveyed the startled emigrants.

"You don't know what a Roon raid is like, do

you? You'll find out, if you stay on Roo. Better

leave!"

"Jonny, shut up and get out of here before I

have you locked up," said the governor angrily.

He added to the emigrants, "Don't pay any

attention. The fellow's been out of his mind for

years."

He went to summon the officials who would

assign them to temporary quarters. The

discouraged emigrants looked at each other.

Carlin approached John Gordon. "We're

research scientists working here on vitron,"

Carlin introduced himself and Zamok. "Is it

true Rab Cain shot Captain Future?"

"I'm afraid it's true," Gordon nodded. "Cain

admitted it when our ship's captain, got an

undimensional-wave message. The rat must

have some basis for a self-defense plea, for the

Patrol sent no order to detain him."

Carlin's heart sank. When Gordon and the

other emigrants moved off to their new

quarters, he remained looking morosely at

Zamok.

"Zamok, what are we going to do?"

"The Futuremen may come, anyway," Zamok

said thoughtfully. "Though if he's badly

wounded, they wouldn't leave him."

Carlin rallied his courage.

"We've got to go on, anyway. We've still got

the Roon we captured last night. We still may

be able to learn something from him."

"I hope so," muttered the Martian. "Let's get

back to the plantation and find out."

The red disk of Arkar had already set, and

darkness was complete when they reached

their own plantation. Not a light showed from

the house.

"Why doesn't Lin Sao have a light?"

murmured Carlin uneasily. "You don't suppose

anything has happened?"

He entered the house and found the living

room-laboratory in complete darkness. Before

he could find the switch, Carlin heard a heavy,

clanking sound beside him. Gigantic arms

encircled him in a crushing grip.

"Zamok, get back!" he yelled. "Someone is--"

"Quiet!" rumbled a deep voice. "It's all right,

Ezra. Turn on the lights."

The krypton-bulbs in the ceiling exploded

brilliance. In the daylight glare, Philip Carlin

looked around, stunned.

He was being held by an incredible metal

giant whose shining photoelectric eyes looked

down at him from a seven-foot height.

Opposite him, a lithe, white-skinned man, in

close-fitting drab zipper-suit, held an atom-

pistol raised, covering them.

THE third person in the room, the man

who had just switched on the lights, was an

Earthman, iron-haired, elderly, with faded blue

eyes in a weatherbeaten face.

Carlin did not know him but he knew the

others.

"The Futuremen!" he choked. "Thank God

you're here! We were afraid you wouldn't

come."

Grag released him. "Sorry to startle you,"

boomed the big robot. "But we couldn't be sure

who was coming, in the dark."

"We got here less than an hour ago," Otho

explained swiftly. "On the way here, we'd

picked up the undimensional code-message

you sent back to the System as planned, giving

the location of this place. We landed the

Comet under cover of darkness in the trees

behind the house."

Carlin felt a rush of relief. His

discouragement vanished. They weren't going

to have to fight this battle unaided, after all.

They were going to have the mightiest of

allies.

He gaped, as a slim young Earthgirl, dark

haired and dark eyed, wearing a simple jacket

and space-slacks, came from the back of the

room.

"This is Joan Randall, Patrol agent," Otho

said. "And that old buzzard there is Marshal

Ezra Gurney." Carlin knew her now. He had

heard of both her and Ezra.

He looked around eagerly. "And Captain

Future? He's here?"

"With us?" retorted Otho. "Don't be foolish.

The chief came on to Roo in disguise. He'll

meet us as soon as he can."

Joan explained to the bewildered scientists.

"Curt had to come in as assumed identity if he

was to accomplish anything. He built up a

notorious new character for himself. He is now

called Rab Cain."

"Rab Cain?" The name burst from the lips of

Carlin and Zamok. "He got in on the Star-farer

this afternoon." "

He told them rapidly of the scene at Roo-

town when Harmer's harangue to the rebellious

colonists had been interrupted by Rab Cain's

swaggering boasts.

"And he bragged he shot Captain Future!"

finished Carlin. "Then he went off with Li

Sharn."

A flash sparked from Joan Randall's dark

eyes, and was mirrored in the slanted green

eyes of Otho--a vivid electric excitement.

"Then Curt's on the trail!" she exclaimed.

"That's why he isn't here now. But it's

dangerous, working under cover by himself."

"Where is Li Sharn's place?" Otho demanded

of Carlin.

The botanist told him. "And Jed Harmer's

plantation is only a mile or two north of it. Li

Sharn is known as one of Harmer's party."

"I'll go in there and find the chief, and see

what he wants us to do," Otho declared,

starting toward the door.

Grag interposed his metal bulk. "No," the

robot boomed. "You stay here. The chief said

we were to wait till he got word to us."

Otho flared at the metal giant. "Can't you see

that the whole set-up's changed? That

mechanical brain of yours must have stripped a

gear."

Grag uttered a howl of anger and strode

forward. "I'm a peaceful individual," he

announced loudly, "but there's a limit to the

insults I'll take from this synthetic rubberoid

imitation of a man."

Philip Carlin was startled by the bellowing

voice and unhuman wrath of the towering

robot. But Joan's quick smile reassured him.

"Will you cut out this bickerin'?" old Ezra

was demanding. "All the way out here in the

Comet I had to listen to you two arguin', and

I'm tired of it."

"I still think I ought to find the chief," Otho

persisted.

"You're just huntin' trouble," grunted Ezra.

"We'll see what Simon says about it."

"Simon Wright--the Brain?" echoed Carlin.

"He's here too?"

Joan nodded. "He's back with Lin Sao

questioning that Roon you captured."

They went to the back room. When they

entered, an astonishing spectacle met Carlin's

eyes. A spectacle that had brought beads of

perspiration to Lin Sao's plump face as he

stood in a corner, watching.

Gaa, the captive Roon, still sat bound in the

chair. His parrot-beaked red face was stiff with

fear and his black, enormous eyes stared

fascinated by the Brain, hovering above him in

the metal box. He was a terrifying spectacle to

the barbaric tribesman, a box that spoke and

watched him with unwinking lens-eyes.

Fear and awe were plain in Gaa's red face, a

fear which flared higher when Grag's

enormous metal figure came clanking into the

room.

"Why have you Roons been attacking the

colony?" asked the Brain's rasping voice.

"I haye already told you," faltered Gaa, "You

star-men must leave Roo before disaster

comes."

"What disaster?"

GAA hesitated, then answered. "The Old Ones

will come back in wrath."

"The Old Ones?" There was a sharp, startled

quality in the way the Brain echoed it.

"What is it, Simon?" whispered Joan,

impressed by his reaction.

Simon Wright did not answer her. He spoke

again to Gaa. "The Old Ones cannot come

back. They died a million years ago."

"No!" Gaa's voice rang with superstitious

fervor. "They did not die. They are too mighty

for death. We have seen the omens with our

own eyes! You must go away before you wake

them and bring horror upon us. That is why we

must drive you from Roo."

The Brain swung toward the others. "There's

much behind this," he said. "These tribesmen

have not turned hostile for ordinary reasons.

Their superstitions are involved--superstitions

based on one of the most ancient cosmic

mysteries in the universe."

They looked at him, puzzled yet vaguely

alarmed. In the silence, they could hear the

feather-trees outside stirring in the breeze.

The Brain had turned back to their captive.

"Tell me, what are the omens you saw that

made your people think the Old Ones are

stirring?"

Gaa's parrot-beaked red face stiffened, and a

defiant look came into his black eyes.

"That I cannot tell. It is a secret of our

worship which you strangers may not know."

"More superstition," muttered old Ezra. "Now

I wonder--"

There was a lolloping sound, and Carlin

turned sharply. A small animal galloped into

the room and flew toward Grag in terror.

Carlin had never seen such a creature. A gray,

bearlike little beast with sharp, beady eyes and

a wide mouth set with enormous grinding

fangs. He vaguely recognized it as a moon-

pup, one of the half-mythical species of

telepathic, non-breathing creatures native to

Earth's satellite.

Grag picked up the trembling creature. "Eek's

scared to death. When Eek's scared it means

danger. Something's happened out there."

Simon Wright looked sharply around.

"Where's Otho?"

It suddenly dawned on Philip Carlin that he

had not seen the android for the last ten

minutes. Neither, it now transpired, had any of

the others.

They searched the house, and then the little

space-ship hidden in the dark trees outside. But

the search revealed nothing. Otho had

disappeared.

CHAPTER IX

Star-World Peril

EVER since he had heard that Captain Future

was already playing his lone hand in disguise,

here on Roo, Otho had been chafing for action.

The fact that he had been forbidden to try to

join the leader had only increased Otho's

impatience.

The android was always the most restless of

individuals. The long trip to Roo in the Comet

had worn his patience thin. As always, he

wanted to get into action.

Otho saw his chance when the others went

into the back room. Here, thought the android,

was a golden opportunity to take French leave.

The thought was enough. Otho slipped out

into the darkness and started back through the

feather-trees toward the shed in which he had

previously noticed two rocket-cars.

Before he could reach the shed, two small

animals bounded out of the darkness and

clawed playfully at his legs. It was Eek, Grag's

moon-pup mascot, and Oog, the fat little white

"meteor-mimic" who was Otho's own pet.

Otho tried to shoo them away but they

insisted on following. He didn't want them.

Eek, especially, might prove a serious em-

barassment to his plans. But how could he get

rid of Eek?

Then Otho grinned fleetingly. "There's one

sure way to shake Eek."

Otho stopped and thought. He thought of

hundreds of Roon warriors silently

approaching the house, warriors who wanted to

kill everyone here.

Eek received that thought! The moon-pup had

a highly developed sense of telepathy, but was

renowned for his lack of valor. That

frightening telepathic impression completely

unnerved him and he bolted toward the house.

Chuckling, Otho ran on and ran the rocket-car

softly out of the shed. He did not cut off the

baffles until he was a mile from the house.

Running without lights, Otho drove

northward along a high-ridged, muddy

highway. The drift of stars and Black Moon

together afforded him hardly enough light by

which to steer.

"Lot of good a moon like that is," he

complained to Oog, who had snuggled up in

the seat beside him. "A cursed desolate kind of

satellite, Roo has."

Otho's spirits rose as he raced across the face

of darkened Roo. He began to plan. He

planned rapidly.

"The chief went with this fellow Li Sharn,

Carlin said. He'll be at Li Sharn's place now. I

ought to be able to slip in and find out what he

needs me to do. Maybe he'll want me to kidnap

this fellow Harmer."

That prospect pleased Otho's action-loving

soul.

Otho cut the lights and pulled the car into a

field near Li Sharn's plantation. Then he

loosened the atom-pistol in its holster, and

started on foot across the dark fields.

Oog trotted at his heels. But Otho knew his

devoted little pet would implicitly obey every

command.

Suddenly Otho stopped and bounded

backward.

"Devils of space!" he exclaimed, his hand

darting to his atom-pistol.

A bunchy, obscene shadow had stirred from

behind a vitron-shrub a few feet ahead of

him--a many-legged thing with huge, faceted,

phosphorescent eyes. It was two feet in

diameter.

The thing was a paralysis-spider, the most

dreaded and venomous of all poison-insects on

Roo. Its bite did not kill. It did worse-- it

locked the victim's body in irremediable

paralysis, a living death.

"Better not shoot the little horror or my gun-

flash might be seen," Otho muttered. "Come

here, Oog--we'll go around it."

He looked in vain for Oog, who had vanished.

But then a big lump of soil at his feet suddenly

writhed, changed, became Oog.

The meteor-mimic, frightened, had used his

perfect ability for camouflage to make himself

as inconspicuous as possible.

"Cursed if Roo doesn't have a lot of nasty

things," Otho muttered as they gave the

creature a wide berth. "Paralysis-spiders,

hunting-worms--it's awful!"

He soon encountered an even more terrible

denizen of the planet. The tree-bats, that had

been rushing wildly overhead, swooped

frantically low over the starlit field.

"What the devil!" swore Otho, startled.

"Something's scared them."

HIS keen ears caught the flap and thrash of

great, leathery wings overhead. Two

monstrous, reptilian flying shapes sailed

down. They had been pursuing the tree-bats --

but now had sighted Otho.

"Night-dragons!" he yelped, his atom-pistol

jumping into his hand.

The two creatures were circling close

overhead, small red eyes glaring down at him,

great fangs and talons gleaming in the starlight.

There were no more dreaded creatures on

Roo and Otho fully realized his dire peril. Yet

if he fired his weapon, the crash of it would

give away his presence.

In this extremiy, the resourceful android

turned swiftly to his mascot. Oog was

cowering, apparently too frozen by fear even to

attempt one of his marvelous camouflages.

"Spider, Oog!" Otho hissed to the little

animal. "Paralysis-spider!"

He pointed, as he spoke, back toward the

place where they had encountered the great

venomous insect.

Oog understood and instantly acted. His fat

white body twisted, flowed with protean

rapidity into a new shape. He became, to all

appearances, one of the many-legged

poisonous horrors.

The night-dragons were rushing downward.

But, sighting the repulsive, many-legged shape

beside Otho, the huge creatures darted upward

again with squawking cries of alarm. Even the

terrible night-dragons dreaded the giant

spiders!

As the leathery wings receded into the

darkness, Otho patted his metamorphosed

mascot and Oog promptly resumed his natural

shape.

"Nice work, Oog," chuckled the android. "I'll

bet those things won't stop in a hurry."

He went on across the starlighted vitron fields

toward Li Sharn's plantation house. It showed

no lights, nor any sign of life.

"All asleep," muttered Otho. "But I'll bet the

chief isn't asleep if he's in there. I'll soon find

out. You stay here, Oog."

He started forward, then stopped.

A dark figure had stealthily emerged from the

house. It moved swiftly off across the fields.

"Who in blazes is that, and why's he slipping

out?" Otho wondered, puzzled.

He was starting to follow when a second

stealthy figure emerged from the house and

began to trail the first.

Otho swore. "What's going on here anyway?"

He went silently forward, trailing the trailer.

The man ahead was too intent upon his quarry

to look back.

They approached a plantation which Otho

knew must be Jed Harmer's. The first shadowy

figure approached the house, and crouched

down near a lighted, shuttered window. As he

stopped over, a ray of starlight momentarily

illumined his face.

"I might have known it!" muttered Otho. "But

who's the other?"

The man crouching by the wall of the house

was "Rab Cain"--Captain Future. He appeared

to be unaware of the fact he had been followed.

His trailer was advancing now, an atom-pistol

gleaming in his hand. Otho saw this second

man come up behind Curt Newton, and saw

Newton turn his head in surprise.

There was no need of words to tell the quick-

thinking android that Captain Future had been

surprised spying on Harmer and that the man

who had surprised him was about to shoot.

Otho could move faster than any other

individual in the System, when the necessity

arose. The necessity was urgent now. He

covered the distance to the two men in three

great leaps, his atom-pistol raised.

--a spy, then?" he heard the second man.

"You might have known I'd watch you, Cain!"

Otho came up behind the man and brought

the barrel of his atom-pistol down on the

other's skull.

The man sank limp and silent. "Rab Cain"

whirled, startled.

"Otho!" he whispered. "What in space are you

doing here?"

"Is that all the thanks I get?" said the android

with a grin. "Who is this fellow, anyway?"

"Li Sharn," answered Captain Future,

frowning. "He must have watched me all the

way. This messes up everything for me." He

bit his lip. "You've got a rocket-car? Take him

to it and wait for me. I've got to hear what's

going on in this place."

OTHO dragged away Li Sharn's limp form,

after hastily telling the location of his car.

Captain Future again applied his super-

stethoscope to the wall of the house.

He distinguished Jed Harmer's voice again.

"--tell you, I could get the colonists to declare

for secession right now."

"No." It was Ka Thaar's level voice. "The

boss is right. They need more provocation

before they'll reach the pitch of outright

rebellion. Today showed that. But one more

big Roon attack will fix it. You heard his

orders."

"All right, I'll hold off as he says until one

more big Roon raid heats them up to the

boiling point," Harmer grumbled. "Though I

still think I could sway them into secession

now."

"You're too confident of your powers of

oratory," glibed the young Mercurian. Captain

Future heard a chair scrape. "I'm going to get

some sleep."

Captain Future felt sharp disappointment. He

had learned almost nothing. From the

conversation it was evident the mysterious

leader of the conspiracy had already been here

and had gone.

Newton pocketed the super-stethoscope and

soon joined Otho at the rocket-car.

"Don't know whether it's good news or bad,

chief," Otho greeted him. "Li Sharn is dead. I

hit him too hard in my hurry."

"The devil!" exclaimed Newton. "That

complicates things further. When did you and

Grag and Simon arrive on Roo?"

"Tonight. We landed near Carlin's plantation.

He'd sent a code message giving us its

location."

"Drive there in a hurry," Curt Newton told

him. "It's time we held a council of war."

The rocket-car flew along the lonely roads,

with Li Sharn's body lurching in the back seat,

until Otho sighted the plantation lights

glimmering through the grove of feather-trees.

The occupants were watchful. Zamok harshly

challenged them as they ascended the veranda.

"Everything's all right--it's the chief and I,"

answered Otho.

Grag's giant frame bulked in the lighted

doorway. "So you went after all? You

disobeyed orders. I hope the chief bawled you

out plenty."

Newton grinned. "I couldn't do that, for he

saved my neck by showing up when he did."

He went inside. In the lighted room, Philip

Carlin and Lin Sao looked at him in

amazement.

Carlin could hardly believe that this was the

same man he had talked with on that night in

Great New York. Curt Newton's tall, lithe

figure seemed somehow shorter and stockier--

the red hair was now black and close-cropped,

the frank, handsome face of Captain Future

was the scarred, tough face of Rab Cain.

Newton started to speak, then stopped and

stared at Joan Randall and Ezra Gurney. Then

he turned angrily to Otho.

"I--er--forgot to tell you, chief. Joan and

Ezra came along," Otho said hastily. "You see,

they were on Venus that night--"

Joan spoke quickly. "It's not their fault, Curt.

They didn't want to bring us. But anyway,

aren't you glad to see me?"

Curt Newton fought to keep his temper.

"Joan, you knew I didn't want you mixed up in

this mess. Why did you insist on coming?"

She tossed her dark head. "After all, Curt, I'm

a Patrol agent. I was sent to Venus to discover

the whereabouts of that Venusian vitron

profiteer, Lu Suur. His trail led to Roo. So I

had to follow."

"Did you receive any authority from the

Commander?" he demanded.

Her brown eyes faltered. "Well, no explicit

authority."

Ezra Gurney uttered a disgusted snort. "Fine

thanks we get for comin' all this way to help

you."

Curt Newton exploded at him. "You space-

struck old idiot! Are you trying to get Joan

killed? You knew this was the most dangerous

mission I've ever undertaken."

Philip Carlin had been astonished by Captain

Future's anger at the girl's presence. But now

he understood. There was an overpowering

anxiety for Joan's safety in Newton's voice.

"Since you're here, Joan, see that you follow

orders and stay out of trouble," Curt Newton

finished.

Joan laughed at him. "That's what I like about

you, Curt," she said. "Your tender gallantry,

your courtly style of wooing are the things

which make me run after you half across the

universe."

"Oh, cut your rockets," he said, with assumed

impatience. But as he said it, a warmth in his

eyes answered her impish smile.

THE scene was interrupted by the appearance

of the Brain. Simon Wright came gliding in

from the rear of the house.

His lens-eyes met Curt Newton's gaze. "They

told you about the Roon captive?" he asked.

It was characteristic that he offered no word

of greeting. There were those who said the

Brain had no emotions. Captain Future knew

otherwise. But he had almost never known

Simon to display any emotion.

"Yes, and that may help us--and we're going

to need all the help we can get," Newton said.

He told them briefly of his falling in with Li

Sharn, his entry into Harmer's party, and then

the near-disaster brought about by Li Sharn's

suspicions.

"From what I heard tonight," he went on,

"they figure that just one more big Roon attack

will excite the colonists to the point of

secession."

"It will," affirmed Philip Carlin soberly. "I've

been here long enough to know how these

people feel. And you can hardly blame them."

"The conspirators are counting on a big Roon

attack soon," Captain Future continued. "This

shows somehow they're responsible for these

attacks by the tribesmen. I've believed that

from the first. What does this Roon captive say

about the reason for the raids?"

Simon Wright answered in his metallic voice.

"I've found out a little from him. It's

superstition that's driving the Roons to attack

the colony. A superstitious dread connected

with the Old Ones."

"The Old Ones?" repeated Newton sharply,

his eyes narrowing.

"Yes," said the Brain. "The Roons say there are

omens of the waking of the Old Ones, that it is

the colonists' coming that has stirred them up.

The colonists must go or the Old Ones will

truly awake."

Captain Future's face grew somber. "I never

dreamed that that was behind the Roons'

hostility."

Carlin asked a hesitant question. "Just who or

what are the Old Ones? I've been wondering."

"They're the name given by most of the

galaxy's races to the Kangas."

Carlin looked blank, but Joan Randall was

startled by that name and so were Ezra and the

Futuremen.

"The Kangas!"

CHAPTER X

Cosmic Shadow

CAPTAIN FUTURE gave a rapid explanation

to the bewildered young botanist.

"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 proto-zooan 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 goodlooking?

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 Sharn'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 Sharn'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

Sharn'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

Sharn'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 Sharn'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

Sharn'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 Sharn 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 Sharn'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 Future-men

are going to follow," he asserted.

"That girl and old Gurney are two stormy

petrels, warning of the coming of the Future-

men," 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 XI

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.

For six hours, Carlin and the robot had

followed their captive guide into the jungle.

Gaa had readily agreed to lead them to the

village of his people so that they might talk

peace.

"He has agreed too readily," the Brain had

warned. "Curtis was right--the Roon intends

to trick you. You'll have to take care.

Remember, your mission is only to find the

Crypt of the Old Ones which is the center of

the Roon superstitions. It must be near their

chief village. If you discover it, reconnoiter it

without letting yourselves be seen and then

come back here at once."

"Don't worry, we'll find it," Grag had

promised confidently. "This Roon thinks he's

going to doublecross us, but he's due for a

double-doublecross."

"I hope so," said the Brain dubiously. "But I'd

feel easier about it if I were going along."

"Are you implying that I'm a dope?" bristled

Grag. "Besides, the chief left you a job here.

Just trust this to us."

So Carlin and Grag had started with Gaa into

the red forests. They had no sooner got out of

sight of the plantation, than Grag stopped.

He fumbled in the small haversack slung over

his shoulder. He had explained that it

contained his atom-pistol. But now, to Car-lin's

surprise, he drew from it the little gray, beady-

eyed moon-pup that was his pet.

"I brought Eek along," rumbled Grag, fondly

perching the animal on his shoulder. "I had to

hide him, or Simon wouldn't have let me bring

him."

Carlin looked doubtfully at the moon-pup,

squirming eagerly on the broad metal shoulder

of its master. "Maybe it's not a good idea, at

that. He might make a racket just when we

need to be quiet."

"Eek can't make any sounds," Grag informed

him. "Moon-dogs have no vocal apparatus, for

they evolved on the Moon where there's no air.

They don't even breathe. They have a

telepathic sense for communication."

"Still, he won't be any help to us," Carlin said.

"Help?" Grag boomed. "Eek can be a lot of

help! He's the greatest danger-barometer there

is. Eek can scent danger miles away, by his

telepathic sense. When he acts badly scared,

look out for trouble."

Carlin glanced curiously at his giant

companion as they went on. Until now,

despite his awareness of Grag's intelligence, he

had been unable entirely to accept the robot as

a living personality.

But he was now discovering, as other people

had discovered, that acquaintance with Grag

dispelled all notions as to his being an

automaton. Grag's ways of thinking might be

simpler than those of ordinary men. But the

robot possessed pride, loyalty, and that

perception of contrasts which is the basis of the

sense of humor.

It was now mid-afternoon. Gaa had led them

into the jungle along a network of dim trails

made by "shufflers". And twice, so far, they

had been forced to dart hastily into the brush to

avoid "shufflers" coming along the trail. The

enormous sextupedal hairy creatures, elephant-

high and dragging their short legs in the

peculiar gait that gave them their name, were

granivorous and harmless, but Carlin was not

glad to meet them.

Quickly Gaa led the way southwestward in

the new direction. The Roon had been stoically

quiet all the way so far. Now there was a hint

of expectation in his bearing.

"Look at him, the false-hearted son of a liar,"

muttered Grag to Carlin, in their own

language. "He just can't wait to get within

shouting distance of his village. Then he thinks

he's going to raise a yell that will bring them

all out on our necks."

CARLIN was anxious. "We'll have to gag him

before that. But we may not know we're near

the place until we come right on it."

"Sure, we'll know," said Grag. He patted the

moon-pup riding his shoulder. "Eek will warn

us. When he senses the Roons, he'll raise a

rumpus miles before we reach them. I told you

he'd be useful."

Philip Carlin almost forgot their mission, in

the scientific fascination of what lay about

them. This jungle was a planetary botanist's

wonderland. The vast majority of its plant

species had never been classified.

He had spent months here on Roo, years

before when its suitability for vitron

plantations was being tested. But he had been

too busy on the urgent vitron problem to spend

time in purely academic explorations. Now an

even more urgent mission precluded such

studies.

Grag suddenly stopped, his giant metal hand

also halting Gaa. "Eek's getting nervous

already," he said doubtfully. "Yet it can't be

that we're near the Roons yet."

Carlin looked skeptically at the moon-pup.

Eek had begun to shiver.

"Probably he's scared of some animal he

senses in the forest," suggested the botanist.

"Maybe, but--"

Grag never finished. At that moment, Gaa

wrenched suddenly from beside them and

started running forward along the trail.

"Get him!" yelled Grag. "Don't use your

gun--we can catch him!"

Carlin had whipped out his atom-pistol, but

he refrained from firing as he and Grag

plunged down the trail after the escaping Roon.

Gaa, his arms bound, could not run fast

enough to escape. Carlin wondered fleeting-ly

why the Roon had made the hopeless attempt.

Gaa looked back over his shoulder at them,

then slackened speed. But now they were

within reach of the frantically stumbling

tribesman. Grag's great hand reached

vengefully for him.

At this moment Carlin felt the ground cave in

under his boots, and plunged downward. He

struck a soft dirt surface in jarring fall, and

heard two other heavy bodies thud beside him.

Carlin picked himself up, feeling dazed. He

was standing at the bottom of a conical pit,

whose floor was the base of the cone. The pit

was ten feet across and its dirt sides sloped

steeply upward more than twenty feet to a

small, ragged hole through which they had

fallen.

Grag was picking himself up, and Eek, who

had clung to him in the fall, seemed frantic

now with terror. But Grag turned with a roar

on Gaa, who like themselves had been unhurt

by his fall to the soft dirt floor.

"You dirty red son of perdition!" roared the

robot, grabbing their bound captive. "I'll twist

your head right off your shoulders."

"Wait, Grag!" said Philip Carlin. "Don't hurt

him."

"Hurt him?" retorted the wrathful robot. "I'll

reduce him to atoms! He led us right into this

hole."

"What is this place? A pitfall built by your

tribe?" he asked Gaa.

Gaa stood, coolly surveying them without a

trace of fear on his parrot-beaked red face.

"No, this is a hunting-worm's pit. I saw the

traces of a chain of them as we came along the

trail, and knew there'd be another ahead."

"A hunting worm?" roared Grag, looking

around. "Where is he?"

Gaa nodded toward two six-foot round

tunnels that opened into opposite sides of the

conical pit, just above the floor.

"He will come," said the Roon. "Hunting-

worms hollow out many such pits, in a

connected chain. They leave only a thin mask

of dirt above, not sufficient to support an

animal's weight. They go through their pits

regularly, looking for prey. When he comes, he

will kill and devour us all. Then you star-men

will never reach my village to spy on my

people."

"You block-headed lummox, he'll devour you,

too, in that case!" bellowed Grag.

Gaa nodded. "Yes, I will die, too. But I am

not afraid of death."

At another moment, Philip Carlin would have

admired the Roon's loyalty to his people.

But now he had too imminent a sense of

danger for such reflections.

"We've got to get out of here!" he exclaimed.

"I've heard stories of the size and ferocity of

these hunting-worms."

Grag looked upward. "Blast me if I see how

we're going to climb out of this hole."

THE dirt of the pit sides was soft. But the

inward slant of the high, steep walls made it

impossible to dig out steps,

"This is what I get for not paying attention to

Eek," Grag went on ruefully. "He wasn't scared

for nothing, I should have known."

"He's certainly plenty scared now," Carlin

observed.

Eek was in a very frenzy of fear, clawing at

Grag's legs, dashing to the wall, then running

back to the robot. Eek, it was easy to deduce,

wanted nothing more than to leave the pit.

"The hunting-worm is coming," Gaa

explained calmly. "It will be here soon."

Carlin reached instinctively for his atom-pistol.

Then he remembered, appalled, that he had had

it in his hand when he crashed into the pit. It

had been jarred from his grasp when he fell.

Hastily he searched the pit floor.

The weapon was not there. It had fallen on

the trail above.

"It's all right, I've got my gun," Grag said.

"We'll make short work of the beast when it

comes."

Grag reached into his haversack and drew out

his atom-pistol. Then he uttered an

exclamation of dismay.

"Devils of space, look at this gun! Eek's been

at it!"

The hard metal of the atom-pistol barrel was

gnawed away. The gun would back-blast if it

was fired.

Grag uttered a groan. "I might have known

Eek would start chewing on it when he was in

the haversack with it. He can't resist metal. It's

my fault for putting him in there."

Carlin heard a faint, faraway rustling. It

seemed to come from one of the tunnels that

opened into the pit.

His heart hammered. The fantastic

predicament loomed now with a brutal horror.

It would be a messy way to die, he was

thinking.

"We can't get out, and we have no weapons,"

he said. "What can we do?"

"If the hunting-worms are as big as Gaa says,

I couldn't kill the beast with just my hands,"

Grag muttered. "The thing would be sure to

kill you and the Roon, in this narrow hole."

Grag suddenly turned. "There's a chance, if

we can get your atom-gun. It must be lying

right up there beside the mouth of the pit."

The robot picked up Eek and showed him the

gnawed atom-pistol. Eek, even in his terror,

cowered a little, expecting reprimand.

"You want a nice gun to eat, Eek?" Grag said.

"All right, there's one up there on the trail. You

bring it back and you can have it."

"How can he understand when he can't speak

or hear?" said Carlin.

"He doesn't hear my words but he senses my

thought," Grag explained hastily. "Here you

go, Eek--get the gun and bring it."

With the words, Grag tossed the moon-pup

accurately up through the hole twenty-odd feet

above. They heard Eek fall with a thump on

the trail.

They heard also, more loudly, the ominous

rustling from the tunnels. Carlin felt an icy

chill along his spine.

Eek reappeared above, peering down at them.

Carlin could have kissed the moon-pup. For in

his jaws, Eek held Carlin's atom-pistol.

Grag held up his arms. "Jump, Eek! Grag will

catch you."

Eek very definitely did not want to jump.

Eek's hesitation showed he'd had quite enough

of the pit.

Grag cajoled him. "You jump, Eek, and I'll

give you a nice big piece of copper to eat. All

the copper you want."

Eek seemed to be drooling mentally over that

inducement, but still was restrained by an

overpowering terror of the pit.

Gaa uttered a low exclamation. Carlin turned

and froze as he saw, far back in one of the

tunnels, two cold, glittering, lashless and

enormous eyes that advanced softly like twin

pale fires.

He could sense, rather than see, the enormous

looping, rippling white worm body behind

those monstrous eyes. He heard Grag yell.

Eek jumped! Grag grabbed him, snatched the

atom-pistol from his jaws, and whirled with

incredible rapidity.

The blunt, enormous head of the hunting-

worm was swaying up as the first ten feet of

the monster body uncoiled from the tunnel.

Grag's gun blasted a streak of blazing energy

that severed the head and turned it into a

charred mass. The monster coils twitched

wildly far back into the tunnel, making the

whole pit vibrate.

"That was too close for comfort!" said Grag.

Then he picked up the quaking moon-pup.

"Eek, you were responsible for my gun being

useless but you redeemed yourself. I wish Otho

had been here to see it."

CARLIN stared at Otho. "How are we going to

get out now?" he asked. He was shaken by the

close call, sickened by the stench from the

dead monster's charred body.

"Cut our way out with the atom-pistol, of

course," said Grag. "Stand back."

He turned the thin blast of the pistol on one

side of the slanting dirt wall. Using it like a

giant knife of fire, he undercut the side so that

a whole mass of dirt slid downward, half

burying them.

"Go ahead," Grag told Carlin. "You can climb

out now, with me boosting. When you get up

there, let down a vine for me--I can't climb in

that soft dirt."

Carlin found himself, light as he was, sinking

to the knees in the sliding yellow soil as he

clambered upward. He was breathless when he

reached the surface.

He soon had cut a massive vine and lowered

its end to Grag. First he hauled up the bound

Roon captive. Then Grag himself clambered

toilsomely out, hauling his weight up the tough

vine rope.

"Now shall we fix this fellow Gaa for his

trick?" Grag demanded, looking wrathfully at

the Roon.

"Listen!" Carlin said suddenly.

Dusk had come during their struggle to

escape the pit. Arkar had sunk beneath the

horizon and shadows were running through the

jungle.

From southward there came a dim pulsing of

persistent sound. It was too rhythmical to be

any natural sound of the jungle.

"That may be from the Roon village!" Carlin

exclaimed. "No, don't hurt Gaa. But we'd better

gag him before we go any farther."

Grag efficiently gagged their captive. Gaa's

black eyes were glittering with fierce

excitement. He, too, had heard the dim pulse of

sound from the distance.

Roughly thrust on by Grag, he stumbled with

them along the dim trail. And now darkness

had come down on the jungle. Through a rift in

the trees ahead, they glimpsed the vast, vague

expanse of a night blanketed ocean, heaving

beneath the great drift of stars and the shadowy

rising sphere of Black Moon.

They came to that point where the trees

ended. Instantly, Grag and Carlin shrank back,

dragging their captive back with them.

"Down behind these bush-orchids!" Grag

muttered. "Quick!"

Dropping behind the shelter of the shrubs, they

peered tensely at the unearthly and astounding

spectacle ahead.

CHAPTER XII

Valley of Dream Flowers

JOAN RANDALL and Ezra Gurney had

started for Rootown soon after Grag and Carlin

followed their captive guide into the jungle.

They took the remaining rocket-car, leaving

the Brain with the other two scientists at the

plantation.

As she expertly steered the car along the

rude road, Joan expressed doubt of the mission

with which Captain Future had entrusted them.

"Curt just wanted to get us out of the way,"

she said. "He doesn't think we can find Lu

Suur."

Ezra grunted. "Prob'ly think I'm too old for real

action. Me, that held my own in the old wild

days on the interplanetary frontier, long before

the Futuremen were heard of." The flat white

roofs of Rootown glimmered through the mass

of pinkish feather-trees that lined the streets.

Over on the spaceport, the massive bulk of the

Starfarer was rising thunderously into the red

sunlight for the long return voyage to the

System.

The ship, Joan knew, was loaded now with

bales of dried vitron that would be processed

and distributed in the System. The importance

of their mission here came home to her with

increased force. Those cargoes that meant so

much to the life and health of the System

peoples must not be halted by chicanery and

greed! There must be no rebellion!

They drove into Rootown's plaza and parked

the rocket-car in front of the unpretentious

cement building that held the System

Government's offices. As they approached the

building, they met a curious, noisy little

procession.

A gaunt, unshaven Earthman in battered sun-

helmet and tattered clothing was shuffling

southward through the town, followed by a

rag-tag of children who were shrieking

delightedly at his heels.

"Crazy Jonny!" they were yelling joyously.

"Where you going, Crazy Jonny?"

The odd-looking man paid no attention to his

tormentors.

"It's the lunatic that Doctor Carlin told us

about," Joan said pityingly. She interposed to

stop the children.

"Aren't you ashamed of yourselves?" she told

them.

They scattered, still derisively hooting the

tattered figure. Joan turned to find the madman

peering at her with a queer, filmy stare.

"Thanks for driving away the imps," he

muttered. "They won't bother me much longer.

The Roons will kill everybody here, pretty

soon."

"Nice, sweet character," grunted Ezra Gurney

as Crazy Jonny shuffled on. "Anyplace else but

out here on the frontier, he'd be rounded up

and taken care of."

They went into the offices of the Governor. A

bored young Martian clerk informed them that

Walker King could see no visitors.

"I think he'll see us," said Joan, tossing a

metal disk onto the desk.

It was the emblem of Section Four, secret

service of the Planet Patrol, and bore her name

and number. Martian eyes bulged.

"I'll tell the Governor at once!"

When they entered the inner office, Joan

studied Walker King. He was an elderly,

friendly man who obviously had found the

anxiety of his official position too critical for

him. The jerkiness of his movements told a

story of overpowering worry.

"I never expected to see you two here on

Roo!" he exclaimed. "Does this mean that the

Futuremen are on the way?"

"Haven't you heard that Captain Future was

shot on Venus?" Joan answered. "You don't

think the Futuremen would leave him?"

Walker King seemed disappointed. "I was

hoping the Government was sending the

Futuremen to help restore order. You don't

know how upset and dangerous things are right

now on Roo!"

"We've got a hazy idea," drawled Ezra

Gurney.

Joan leaned forward. "We're trying to find a

Venusian named Lu Suur."

King appeared startled. "Lu Suur? What

makes you think he's here?"

"You know the man then?" Joan asked

quickly.

"I never met him but I've good reason to

remember his name," Walker King answered

bitterly. "I had a vitron plantation on Venus ten

years ago. Lu Suur's company swindled me."

He sighed. "I wish I'd stayed there. When the

System Government wanted to name a colonist

here as Governor a few years ago, my friends

petitioned for my appointment. I wish now

they'd never done so. This Roon trouble has

made the job a nightmare."

JOAN cut off his complaints by showing him

the old photograph of Lu Suur. "Is there

anybody in the colony who resembles this

picture?"

Walter King shook his head. "No one I've

seen."

"I'd like to see your records and pictures of all

the men who arrived here in the first few years

of the colony," Joan requested.

She and Ezra spent the next few hours

carefully examining the records. But then-hunt

was futile. By now Walker King had grasped

the implications of their search.

"You don't think Lu Suur could be behind all

our trouble here?" he asked anxiously. "Can

this be the result of a deliberate plot? I thought

Jed Harmer and his party were simply making

political capital of the Roon raids."

"They'll start a rebellion if they're not

stopped," Ezra warned him grimly. "They've

got the Roo colonists on the brink of secession.

One more Roon attack will decide them."

"I know that, but what can I do to stop the

Roons?" King exclaimed. "I've only got a

handful of Patrol officers to police here. I've

tried to use them as sentinels to give warning

of Roon raids, but it hasn't worked out."

"Why haven't you sent scouts into the Roon

country to find out just what's stirred up the

tribesmen to these attacks?" Ezra asked.

King shook his head helplessly. "That's

impossible. Nobody can go into those jungles

now without being killed by the Roons."

Joan remembered something Carlin had said.

"Doesn't Crazy Jonny, the madman we met

outside this morning, still go in and out of the

jungles?"

"Oh, yes, Jonny still wanders everywhere, but

the Roons wouldn't hurt him," King said.

"They've always had a superstitious regard for

him because of his madness."

"How long has he been mad?" the girl asked

thoughtfully.

"For seven or eight years," was the reply.

"Jonny was a fine, upstanding planter in the

pioneer days here on Roo--had one of the first

vitron plantations. Then one night, a sudden

attack by night-dragons shocked him out of his

sanity. He's been a hopeless madman ever

since, endlessly wandering through the colony

and the jungles."

Joan frowned. "I'd like to question Crazy

Jonny. Do you know where we could find him

now?"

King looked surprised. "His only home is still

his old wrecked plantation-house, on the south

edge of town. People bring him food and

things. But I can't understand what you hope to

learn from him."

"If he still goes in and out of the jungles, he

might be able to tell just what has stirred up the

Roons to hostility," Joan pointed out.

Walker King looked dubious. "I doubt if he's

sane enough to answer your questions

intelligently, but of course you can try."

"In the meantime," said Joan as she rose to go,

"you can help us by assembling every possible

scrap of information about the colonists who

came here in the first two years. I still think Lu

Suur is here!"

When she and Ezra Gurney emerged from the

building into the hot red afternoon glare, the

old marshal plainly was puzzled.

"Why all this interest in Crazy Jonny?" he

demanded.

"King said that the Roons venerate the

madman," Joan explained. "Who better than

Crazy Jonny could stir up the Roon's

superstitions as someone has done?"

Ezra scratched his chin. "It don't make sense.

If the fellow's crazy--"

"He could still be used as a tool by someone

who is not crazy," retorted Joan. "Come on--

we're going to find out."

It took a couple of hours' searching at the

edge of town before they finally found Crazy

Jonny's old plantation house. It was a

crumbling cement structure half hidden in an

unkempt grove of feather-trees which was

choked with high red weeds and wild bush-

orchids.

The door sagged open on broken hinges. Joan

stepped into the place. The afternoon sunlight

that filtered through dust-thick, cracked

windows, disclosed unswept, littered rooms.

There was a rude pallet in the corner of one.

But the madman was not in the house.

"Ten to one he's gone back into the jungle,"

growled Ezra. "When we saw him this mornin'

he was headin' southward, remember."

Joan's fine brows drew together. "Ezra, I'm

sure now Jonny is the instrument the

conspirators are using to incite the Roons to

attack. The tribesmen would kill anyone else.

Someone has sent Crazy Jonny into the jungles

again today. We've got to overtake and stop

him!"

"With his headstart if he's in there, we won't

have much chance of findin' him," muttered

Ezra. "But we can try."

They turned to the door, then stopped

suddenly. Two men, holding atom-pistols, now

stood in the open doorway.

THE foremost was a lean, thin-faced young

Mercurian whom Joan instantly recognized

from description. Ka Thaar--Jed Har-mer's

lieutenant!

The other man was "Rab Cain"! Captain

Future himself in disguise, standing there with

his weapon trained upon herself and Ezra!

"Please make no outcry," Ka Thaar said

urgently, almost anxiously, to Joan. "I don't

want to be forced to hurt you."

"What does this mean?" Joan demanded.

Ka Thaar had a curious respect in his manner

as he answered. "You will not be harmed,

either of you. But you have been prying into

matters that must be kept secret, and so for the

time being you must be held in a safe place

under guard."

Joan Randall's mind raced. Captain Future

was scowling at her as though he had never

seen her or Ezra before. Evidently "Rab Cain"

had been ordered to assist in seizing them. She

realized at once she must not disclose Curt

Newton's true identity. Ezra had given no sign

of recognizing "Cain". There was no danger to

either of them, they knew, with Captain Future

himself among their abductors.

"We can't argue with two atom-pistols," Joan

said in a bitter voice to the young Mer-curian.

Ka Thaar looked relieved. "I'm glad you're

sensible. I give you my word you won't be

hurt. But you must come with us."

Captain Future approached the girl and the

old marshal, with a sneer on his disguised,

scarred face.

"So you're the friends of Captain Future they

talk about?" he gibed. "How's he getting over

that blasting I gave him on Venus?"

"Cain, shut up and leave those people alone!"

Ka Thaar's tawny eyes had flared and there

was a frozen anger in his thin, dark young face.

Joan guessed that Captain Future had been

seeking an opportunity to whisper to her, but

he could not do so now under the Mercurian's

eyes.

The compact atom-pistol in Joan's pocket and

Ezra's holstered weapon were taken from them,

and then Ka Thaar motioned them outside.

In the red glare of setting Arkar, a rocket-car

waited outside the crumbling house. At its

wheel was a cadaverous gray Saturnian. She

knew him to be Li Sharn--Otho.

They got in and the car raced away. It was

twilight by the time they reached the spaceport.

Ka Thaar pointed through the dusk to a big

rocket-flier waiting at the deserted, farther end

of the big field.

"There's the Firebird," he said, and Otho

drove toward it.

Curt Newton had guessed by now that the

Firebird was Jed Harmer's craft. It was waiting

unlighted, a torpedo-shaped craft that was in

reality a small space-ship with retractable -

wings for atmospheric use.

A half-dozen of Harmer's motley "plantation

workers" greeted them inside the little ship.

They were a brutal-looking lot, all armed.

"Start at once," Ka Thaar ordered the Uranian

at the controls. "We're going to the Valley."

The Uranian sent the flier winging up rapidly

into the twilight. They banked over Rootown's

scattered lights and then darted off at high

speed through the gathering dusk.

Joan did not look at either Curt Newton or

Otho, not wishing to arouse the Mercurian's

suspicions. She must wait for a better chance

to speak to Captain Future.

In a half hour the Uranian pilot brought the

little ship down in a long glide. A narrow

valley, hardly more than a cleft in the dense

jungle, opened below them.

Joan looked down and saw that the valley was

dotted with clumps of tall, pale flowers,

nodding in the starlight. They looked like giant

orchids, inconceivably lovely. But they had

eyes, noses and mouths, and actually seemed

to breathe!

"This is the Valley of Dream Flowers," Ka

Thaar told her. "You will have to remain here,

but will be quite safe."

Valley of Dream Flowers! It fitted the name,

thought the girl, this lonely place of unreal,

beautiful blossoms buried deep in the wild

jungles of Roo.

"Careful, you idiot!" Ka Thaar snapped to the

pilot. "You're bringing us right down on one of

those clumps."

The Uranian hastily changed their course of

descent by a blast of the lateral rockets. The

Firebird swerved to avoid the tall clumps of

flowers, and landed in deep grass.

Joan and Ezra stepped silently out, with the

others following closely. In the starlight, a

little stream chuckled down the center of the

valley. Not far away stood a large hut outside

which they could glimpse an armed man

waiting.

"This way," said Ka Thaar, and started

toward the hut. Joan noticed that he gave a

wide berth to all the tall, nodding flowers.

Stumbling a little, Joan brought her foot down

upon a tiny seedling flower and its white bud.

Instantly such a drugging breath of

overpowering perfume assailed her nostrils

that her senses reeled.

She felt herself falling. As she staggered, a

larger blossom reached forth with an arm-like

petal and seized her about the waist. To her

fading consciousness time seemed to drag out,

seconds became hours. Vaguely she saw the

disguised Otho whip out his atom pistol and

fire, destroying the stem of the plant that was

dragging her to a horrible doom. Then Ka

Thaar leaped forward and snatched her to

safety.

Then her senses cleared. Ka Thaar spoke to

her in sharp warning.

"Never go near any of the flowers, or step on

even the tiniest of them!" he warned. "These

flowers give out an exhaltation of narcotic

vapors which overcomes any living thing--a

natural defense against browsing animals. A

man, stupified by one of the flowers, can lie

senseless till he dies. Even the Roons are afraid

to come here, and that's why we use this

place."

CHAPTER XIII

Quest for the Crypt

WHEN they came nearer, the armed man who

stood waiting in front of the hut greeted them.

He was a stocky, stolid - looking Venusian,

who was obviously on guard here.

"Anything happened, Quord?" asked Ka

Thaar. The Venusian shook his head. "Not a

thing. Even the night ­ dragons stay away."

They entered the hut, the Venusian turning on

a self-powered krypton-lamp. The building

was a ramshackle one hastily constructed of

logs, and was half filled with stacks of long

plastic cases.

"Atom-guns and shells," commented Captain

Future, instantly identifying the cases. "So this

is your arsenal for the rebellion, eh?"

Ka Thaar nodded, then spoke earnestly to

Joan and Ezra. "You two will have to remain

here for some days. But as soon as the

rebellion is over, you'll be released unharmed."

Joan was convinced that the young Mer-

curian was sincere.

"Of course you realize that then you'll be

liable for the forcible seizure of two Planet

Patrol officers," she said.

Ka Thaar was unfrightened. "By that time,

Roo will no longer be under the law of the

System Government, Miss Randall." He turned

to Captain Future. "Cain, you and Quord have

the men bring in some food and bedding from

the Firebird."

As Curt Newton supervised the carrying out

of the order by the brutal-looking crew of the

little ship, he was hoping desperately for a

chance to speak surreptitiously to Joan. She

and Ezra had discovered something important

or their abduction would not have been

ordered. But what was it?

To Newton's dismay, he had no chance yet to

speak to the girl. For Ka Thaar was now

questioning Joan and Ezra.

"Where are the Futuremen?" he demanded.

"You ought to know," she retorted. "It was

your friend Rab Cain here who shot down

Captain Future on Venus."

"Cain is no friend of mine, he's simply a hired

gunman our party is using," Ka Thaar said

glancing at Curt Newton with bitter dislike.

"I'd hate to be him when Cap'n Future gets

better and he and the Futuremen come after

him," drawled Ezra Gurney.

"So the Futuremen are staying with their

leader on Venus?" said Ka Thaar. "Yes, I

suppose they would. Everyone knows their

loyalty." He lighted a rial cigarette and looked

at Joan through its curling green smoke. "You

know Captain Future pretty well, don't you?

Everybody tells of the adventures you and

Marshal Gurney have shared with him."

There was an oddly eager curiosity in his

question, something almost boyish that was

incongruous in this thin-faced, deadly

youngster.

She could not keep her glance from straying

to "Rab Cain", lounging sneeringly in the

background.

"Yes, we've worked often with Captain

Future," she answered. "You never met him."

"I saw him, once," Ka Thaar said

thoughtfully. "It was twelve years ago on

Mercury, when I was just a boy. It was when

he and the Futuremen came back from their

first star-trip with the creation converters that

were to replenish our world's dying

atmosphere. People almost mobbed the Future-

men in their crazy joy. I never forgot it." He

laughed mirthlessly. "Like every other boy on

Mercury, I took Captain Future as my hero. I

was going to be a spaceman just like him,

when I grew up."

Joan felt strangely touched.

"Why don't you be like him, then?" she asked

him. "Drop this intrigue you're mixed in.

You're wrong to follow Jed Harmer."

Ka Thaar snorted contemptuously. "Harmer?

I care nothing about him and the others and

their schemes. But they hired my skill with an

atom-pistol when I came to Roo. I've taken

their pay and I stick with them. It's too late for

me to turn honest now, anyway. The Patrol

wants me back in the System, under another

name. I started out to be a spaceman like

Captain Future, but a brawl one night on

Saturn and a too-ready atom-pistol in my hand

made me an outlaw, and so I wind up here

working against Future's friends. Strange, isn't

it?"

Curt Newton had listened with deep interest.

He understood now that queer attitude of Ka

Thaar's which had puzzled him. A boyhood

hero-worship of the Futuremen still lingered in

the young outlaw's mind.

Ka Thaar turned. "I've got to go, for I and the

men have work to do. You two will be quite

safe here as long as you don't attempt to

escape. It'd be quite useless, anyway, for I'm

leaving Li Sharn and Cain here with Quord to

guard you."

Curt Newton protested. "Aw, don't leave me

here in this forsaken hole? I signed up with

your bunch for action."

NEWTON secretly wanted to go back with Ka

Thaar, hoping to be led to the mysterious

leader of the conspiracy. Joan and Ezra would

be safe, for Otho would be with them. Otho, he

knew, could find out what Joan had learned.

But Ka Thaar overruled his protest. "You're

staying here, Cain! And you and Quord are

under Li Sharn's orders."

Captain Future was stymied. What was he to

do? Throw off the mask and overpower Ka

Thaar and the others here and now? No, the

risk in a showdown here was too great-- the

risk not only to his mission but also to Joan's

safety. He could not afford to challenge Ka

Thaar and the whole crew.

"All right, I'll stay," Newton grumbled.

Ka Thaar signed to "Li Sharn" to accompany

him as he left the hut. Captain Future, edging

unobtrusively toward the door without

arousing Quord's notice, heard the Mercurian

speaking in a low voice outside.

"Li, I'm leaving Cain here because I still don't

entirely trust him. Those two prisoners must

not be hurt. You and Quord watch him."

"I'll keep Rab Cain in line," Otho promised.

"How soon is the break coming?"

"You know that as well as I," retorted Ka

Thaar. "We're going in the Firebird to set off

the last blasts tomorrow night. By that time,

Crazy Jonny will have the Roons all primed for

the blow-off."

Curt Newton did not understand the

references any more than Otho, and Otho dared

not ask for explanations without betraying

himself.

Ka Thaar and his crew entered the Firebird,

and it took off from the Valley of Dream

Flowers with a low roar of tubes.

Otho re-entered the hut. Newton glanced

significantly at Quord, and the android

understood his meaning. He addressed the

Venusian.

"Ka Thaar left orders for you to take a look

along the Valley each night and day to make

sure no one is spying on us," Otho said.

"You'd better start now."

The stocky Venusian was disgusted. "It's a lot

of foolishness," he said. "There hasn't been

even an insect come here all the time I've been

guarding the arsenal. And it's tricky avoiding

those flowers at night."

Nevertheless, he stalked outside to carry out

the order. As soon as his steps receded, the

tension of the four comrades relaxed.

"Will somebody tell me just what's goin' on?"

Ezra Gurney demanded of Captain Future.

"First you and Otho join Harmer's bunch in

disguise. Then you help the rest of the bunch

run off with us?"

"We had to obey, Otho and I, or betray

ourselves," Newton declared. "Even so, our

plan's gone wrong. Otho and I are left here,

while Harmer's secession scheme is rushing

toward a climax. Joan did you find Lu Suur's

trail?"

Joan told of her talk with Governor Walker

King and of its fruitless result.

"But, Curt, we did learn something," Joan

went on. She described her encounter with

Crazy Jonny and her suspicion that the

madman was being used as an instrument to

incite the Roons. "We tried to find Crazy

Jonny but he's gone into the jungle again."

Captain Future nodded thoughtfully. "I

believe you've got something, Joan. The

conspirators may be using this madman, who

can go in among the Roons unharmed, to

arouse them."

"And because Joan and Ezra got too

interested in Crazy Jonny, the order went out

to get rid of them,"! exclaimed Otho.

"It all adds up," said Captain Future. "And it

means that things are near a crisis. Crazy

Jonny has been sent in to the Roons again. And

you heard what Ka Thaar said--that by

tomorrow night, Jonny would have the Roons

ready for final action."

"Then the madman is on his way now to stir

up the Roons to a final attack on the colony--

an attack that'll mean secession," cried Ezra.

Joan Randall paled. "Curt, we've got to stop

that somehow or our whole mission is failure."

"Grag and Doctor Carlin ought to be near the

big Roon village by now," suggested Otho

hopefully. "Maybe they can halt Crazy Jonny."

Curt Newton shook his head. "No, they don't

even know about Jonny. And their errand was

simply to find the Crypt of the Old Ones. That

madman is our job. But we don't even know

the location of the Roon village he's going to."

Otho's eyes flashed. "We don't know, but

there's somebody here who should know. That

Venusian Quord!"

Newton had almost forgotten the Venusian

guard whom they had temporarily got rid of so

they might talk.

"Quord must be one of Harmer's trusted men,

left here to guard the arsenal," he muttered.

"He must have information that would help us.

We'll have to squeeze it out of him. The main

thing, the allimportant thing right now, is to

keep Crazy Jonny from unloosing another

Roon attack. If we can learn enough to do that,

then we can turn and hunt down Lu Suur."

"Listen! I hear Quord coming back now,"

whispered Otho.

CAPTAIN FUTURE gave directions in a few

swift words. A moment later, the stocky

Venusian entered the hut. It proved absurdly

easy. Quord had not the least suspicion when

"Li Sharn" approached him. In a flash, Otho

had snatched the Venusian's atom-pistol from

his holster and was jamming it against the

man's ribs.

"Back against the wall, Quord," hissed Otho.

"Ezra, tie him up."

Before Quord realized what was happening,

he had been disarmed and bound hand and

foot. Then he recovered from his

bewilderment.

"Then you and Cain have turned traitor?" he

bellowed at Otho. "What are you--spies of the

Patrol?"

Captain Future let him think so. "Quord,

you're going to tell us what you know," he said

grimly. "Who is behind Jed Harmer's plot?"

Quord's lips tightened. "I'll tell you nothing."

For hours, Curt Newton and Otho tried by

threats and reasoning to open the Venusian's

lips. Their efforts were unavailing. Morning

came and they had still learned nothing.

"The rest of you go out and leave him to me,"

Otho said darkly. "I know a few old Martian

tortures that will make him talk."

"You know better than that," snapped

Newton. He had a sudden thought. "But maybe

you're right, in a way."

"You wouldn't really torture the man?" Joan

said incredulously.

"Not physically," Curt Newton answered.

"But I have an idea. Cut his bonds, Otho."

Captain Future drew his atom-pistol and

covered Quord with it as the Venusian was cut

loose. The captive stood up, rubbing his arms.

Newton motioned toward the door. "Outside,"

he ordered. "We're going a little way down the

valley."

A little fearfully and puzzledly, Quord

stepped out into the morning glare of the great

red sun. Newton followed him closely, his

atom-pistol raised, the others coming after

them.

Quord moved down the Valley of Dream

Flowers through the hot, brilliant glare until a

clump of the tall, poisonous flowers was just

ahead. The Venusian started to detour around

the flowers.

"No--walk right up to those flowers!" Curt

Newton barked.

Quord turned, protesting in horror. "But that

drugged perfume of the flowers will get me if I

do!"

"Exactly," said Captain Future grimly. "And

you wouldn't like to lie for an endless-seeming

period tortured by ghastly dreams, would

you?"

He had seen enough of the Valley of Dream

Flowers to realize that Quord deeply dreaded

the torment of timeless nightmares experienced

by anyone who fell prey to the poisonous

breath of the great blooms.

His surmise proved correct. Quord, confronted

by the thing he feared most, lost all his

defiance. Even in the hot blaze of the glaring

red sun, he seemed to shiver.

"Don't make me do that," he said hoarsely.

"The dream-flowers nearly got me once before,

and it was horrible. I'll--I'll tell you anything I

can."

"Under what identity Lu Suur is

masquerading?"

"Lu Suur?" Quord looked blank. "I never

heard of him."

"You know who the man is that's behind

Harmer and the whole secession conspiracy.

Who is it?" snapped Newton.

"I don't know!" exclaimed the Venusian.

"Harmer and Ka Thaar never told that to any of

us."

Captain Future was inclined to believe the

man spoke truth. It was not unreasonable to

suppose the secret had been closely kept.

He took another tack. "You do know about

Crazy Jonny, though? Harmer and the rest

have been using him to incite the Roons,

haven't they?"

Quord nodded. "Yes. The Roons have always

had a superstitious veneration for Crazy Jonny.

The tribesmen think he's sacred to the Old

Ones."

Joan uttered an exclamation. "Why should

they think that?"

"From what I heard, it's because Jonny years

ago lost his wits when attacked by night-

dragons," was the answer. "The Roons believe

the night-dragons are the messengers of the

Old Ones. That's why they've reverenced

Jonny--they think the mark of the Old Ones is

on him."

"How do they use him?" asked Captain

Future.

"Crazy Jonny was somehow influenced by

them," Quord continued. "They sent him to the

big Roon village which lies where the Yellow

River flows into the southern ocean, to tell the

Roons that there was danger of the Old Ones

awakening. He showed the Roons that the

Crypt of the Old Ones was already opening."

"Where is this Crypt?" Captain Future

interrupted to demand.

THE Venusian shook his head. "I don't know.

But I do know that Ka Thaar and his crew have

tampered with the Crypt so it would look as

though it is opening."

"It must be near the Roon village if the

tribesmen could see it," muttered Curt Newton.

"Go ahead, Quord."

"That's about all I can tell you," Quord

declared. "You see, I was left here to guard the

arsenal and--

At that moment, a sudden inexplicable

dizziness swept Captain Future. He staggered,

fighting that unexpected weakness.

And as he staggered, Quord snatched at the

atom-pistol in his hand!

"Look out, chief!" yelled Otho, whipping out

his own weapon.

Quord was tearing the weapon away from

Newton, and Otho could not shoot because

Captain Future was between him and the

Venusian.

Newton rallied his dizzied faculties to avert

the tragedy. Quord already had the butt of the

gun and his finger was tightening on its trigger.

Dazedly, Captain Future lunged forward,

twisting the Venusian's arm around at the

moment he pulled trigger.

There was a scorching blast almost in

Newton's face, a scream of agony, and Newton

went reeling backward. Quord had taken the

pistol-blast in his own face and was falling in a

scorched, dead heap.

"Chief, are you hurt?" cried Otho, bending

over Newton. "What happened?"

"I don't know--I suddenly got dizzy," Curt

Newton muttered. "Maybe we were too near

the dream-flowers."

"Dream-flowers nothing--it was the sun hit

you!" Ezra Gurney declared. "You came out

without your helmet. I'll get it for you."

Sudden understanding came to Captain

Future. When he had marched Quord out of the

hut, he had been so intent that he had not

stopped to put on his sun-helmet as the others

had done. The fierce, scorching blaze of

monster Arkar was overpowering for any

unprotected Earthman. It hadn't bothered

Quord because Venusians were accustomed to

powerful actinic radiation on their own planet,

and did not need to wear sun-helmets on Roo.

Captain Future remembered something else,

too. "What a fool I've been! All this time we've

been hunting Lu Suur, I had the clue to his

identity right in front of my eyes!"

"Curt, you mean that you know now who Lu

Suur is?" cried Joan, astonished.

"I'm sure of it. This touch of sun that hit me

without bothering Quord has made me see

what I was blind to before," Newton declared.

"But Lu Suur is not the most immediate

problem now. The most urgent necessity is to

prevent the Roons from making a final big

attack on the colony, for if they do, secession

is inevitable. Crazy Jonny has been sent in

there to stir up the Roons to a final pitch of

superstitious fanaticism."

"And that fanaticism will boil over into attack

when Ka Thaar and his crew use some device

to make it seem that the Crypt of the Old Ones

is opening, that the Old Ones are awaking!"

exclaimed Joan.

Newton nodded grimly. "That's the setup, and

we've got to work fast to smash it. Which

means we've got to get to the Roon village.

The Crypt must be near there If the Roons can

see it, as I said. Ka Thaar and the others will

be going there."

Ezra looked dubious. "Then we've got a long

way to go through the jungle. Accordin' to

Quord, the big Roon village lies where Yellow

River flows into the Austral Ocean. That's

plenty far away."

"And we haven't got the Comet or any way to

call Simon to bring it," groaned Otho. "It'll be

a two-days' march on foot, in these jungles."

"No, I've a better idea than that," contradicted

Captain Future. "Before we start, though, we're

going to take time to disable all the atom-guns

stored in that arsenal. Harmer's not going to

use them."

Hastily, they sabotaged the cases of heavy

atom-guns by removing the tiny injector-tube

from each, and throwing it into the stream that

ran down the center of the Valley of Dream

Flowers.

When they started, Newton steered a course

through the jungle due west.

"But the Roon village must be almost straight

south!" Otho protested.

"We'll make faster time by going this way,"

Captain Future answered.

They had to follow the windings of "shuffler"

trails through the thick crimson forest. The

trails led them finally to the shores of Yellow

River.

The tawny flood, rolling turbidly through the

wild red jungles of Roo on its way to the great

southern ocean, was a majestic sight.

"This is our quickest way to the Roons,"

Newton declared. "A raft will take us down

this stream far faster than we can march in the

jungle."

Their atom-pistols quickly felled and stripped

tall feather-trees. These were rolled into a quiet

eddy and bound strongly with vines. *

Soon after midday, the raft was pushed out

into the current. Under the scorching blaze of

red Arkar, it bore them with dangerous rapidity

southward through the wild jungles of the

forbidding world.

CHAPTER XIV

Dragon Sacrifice

ON the preceding night, Philip Carlin and Grag

had remained frozen with astonishment as they

gazed forth from their hiding place at the

amazing scene ahead.

They had dragged Gaa down with them into

the concealment of the bush-orchids. Though

his hands were bound and his mouth gagged,

their captive Roon guide made fierce efforts to

escape.

"It's the Roon village," whispered Carlin,

staring. "But what in the world are those

tribesmen doing?"

"It's a ritual of some kind," muttered Grag.

"Hear that drum?"

Carlin's eyes swept the unearthly scene. They

were crouching at the very edge of the jungle.

Before them in the thin starlight lay a crescent-

shaped area of open ground.

The curved side of this bow-shaped plain was

bounded by the dark jungle in which they

crouched. Its straight side was the brink of a

long cliff beyond which glimmered the vast,

heaving expanse of the mysterious Austral

Ocean. Just to their right, there yawned a deep

canyon in which the wide Yellow River flowed

out into the sea.

To their left along the curve of the crescent

lay the big Roon village. The low, thatched

huts of the red tribesmen had been built back

under the trees, for concealment and shelter.

Out in the open in front of the village were

now gathered thousands of the Roons.

"But what are they doing?" whispered Philip

Carlin. "They look as though they were

waiting."

The Roons were all facing southward, toward

the cliff-edge and the glimmering ocean over

which Black Moon was rising.

A massive drum that hung in a framework in

front of the jungle village was being sounded

at regular intervals by two Roons who beat

upon it with heavy clubs.

Boom--boom! The drum-beats rolled out like

low thunder, echoing out over the cliff and the

restless, starlighted ocean.

Philip Carlin's bewildered gaze fastened upon

an even more puzzling feature. Near the mouth

of the river, the cliff jutted out in a bold,

narrow promontory whose surface was a

hundred feet above the sea.

Upon this promontory, he made out the

shapes of several animals--a small "shuffler"

and two jungle-deer and other beasts he could

not identify. These animals were living, but

were tightly tied to stakes set in the rock.

Boom--boom! Black Moon was rising higher

above the sea, its shadowed, mottled face

seeming to stare down at the weird scene.

"I don't know just what this is all about but I

do know it's creepy," muttered Grag. "Eek is

scared to death."

"Grag, listen!"

Between the thundering notes of the drum,

Carlin's ears had caught a faraway rustling in

the sky.

It was the thresh of great, flapping wings. He

looked upward.

"Night-dragons!"

The Roons were hastily drawing back beneath

the shelter of the trees at their village, from

which they continued to watch intently.

Two great, flapping black shapes came

gliding swiftly down from the southern sky,

silhouetted against Black Moon. And there

were others of the dreaded creatures up there,

wheeling and descending.

The sky seemed alive with threshing wings.

The drum boomed frantically. And then Carlin

saw a horde of the winged terrors swoop down

upon the animals tethered on the top of the

little promontory.

Fangs and claws of the night-dragons flashed

as they ripped and tore their helpless prey.

Grunts, squeals and screams came hideously

through the starlight.

"Grag, I believe we're seeing a propitiatory

sacrifice to the Old Ones!" exclaimed Carlin,

shakenly.

"What makes you think that?"

"I've heard that the Roons consider the night-

dragons to be the messengers of the Old Ones,"

said the botanist. "It's clear that they make

regular offerings to them, using that big drum

to call the flying reptiles."

The drum had stopped. The night-dragons

were rising lazily into the starlight and

flapping away. Only fragments of flesh and

bones remained on the promontory.

Carlin's mind was racing. Captain Future had

sent him and Grag to learn the location of the

Crypt of the Old Ones. Here was a clue.

"Is it possible that the Crypt we're looking for

is in that promontory above the ocean?" he

whispered. "If it is--"

A harsh, shrill voice suddenly spoke loudly

behind them in the darkness.

"What are you doing here?"

They swung around, thunderstruck. A man

had come up the trail through the jungle behind

them, and was standing over them.

IT WAS a gaunt, unshaven Earthman in

battered sun-helmet, his eyes glaring strangely

at them in the shadows.

"Crazy Jonny!" exclaimed Carlin, stupefied

by the madman's appearance.

"Carlin, the Roon's getting away!" cried Grag.

Gaa, their captive, instantly had seized his

opportunity. As his two captors momentarily

forgot him in their surprise at the madman's

appearance, Gaa scrambled up and ran out

through the starlight.

He was running directly toward the distant

village. Though his hands were bound and he

was gagged, he was already a hundred yards

away.

"I'll get him!" Grag cried, starting forward.

"Too late--they've seen him!" yelled Carlin.

"We've got to run for it!"

Yells of excitement had come from the Roons

of the village, and dozens of warriors were

dashing out toward the stumbling Gaa.

Carlin grabbed the madman's arm. "Back

along the trail quick, Grag! Come on, Jonny!"

Crazy Jonny tore away from his grasp. "Let

me go! I bring a warning to the Roons!"

Perceiving that the mad Earthman would

struggle rather than accompany them, Carlin

abandoned the attempt and plunged back along

the trail with Grag.

The jungle was weird in the darkness. They

heard one loud explosion of yells behind them,

and then an uncanny silence.

"They're coming after us, never fear,"

rumbled Grag furiously as he ran with Eek

clinging scaredly to his shoulder. "I wish to

space I had my hands on that cursed Gaa for

one minute."

"Grag, we can't outdistance these tribesmen in

the jungle," panted Philip Carlin. "We've got to

hide, or--listen!"

Swift, stealthy rustlings were all about them

in the jungle. The Roons could move like

shadows in the dense forest. They were closing

around the two.

Carlin clutched his atom-pistol tightly as he

ran, ready to fire at the first dart that whistled

toward them. But no darts were shot.

Catastrophe came in a different form.

Pounding along the dim trail, Grag suddenly

tripped and fell with a resounding crash that

sent Eek flying catapulted into the brush. At

almost the same moment, Carlin's ankles hit

the tough vine that had been stretched across

the trail, and he fell across the robot.

Before either of them could rise, yelling

tribesmen piled upon them. Nets of tough vine

ropes, strong as steel cables, wrapped around

them clingingly. As they floundered in the

meshes, thicker and even stronger vine ropes

were quickly trussed around them in many

thicknesses.

Grag's furious bellow reverberated as the

robot strove to free himself. Even his giant

strength could not snap the many tough bonds.

Carlin heard Gaa's excited voice, addressing

his fellow tribesmen.

"You will have to drag the metal one back to

the village. The other one can be carried."

Doubt and fear were in the voice of one Roon

who answered. "But this metal one is no star-

man like the others. Maybe he is a demon?"

For a moment, Carlin had a wild hope that

Grag's superhuman appearance would swing

superstition to their aid. But Gaa shattered that

hope.

"The metal one is of the star-men," Gaa

asserted firmly. "He is not a man, but he and

the other forced me to guide them here for an

evil purpose. They were searching for the

Crypt of the Old Ones!"

Exclamations of fanatic anger greeted that

information. The Roons roughly picked up

Carlin and started back with him to the village.

He could hear a group of them dragging

Grag's mighty, trussed form along the trail

behind him. Grag kept up a running fire of

furious threats, for his pride had been pricked

by Gaa's statement.

"Not a man, am I? You bird-beaked son of

perdition, if I get my hands on you, I'll choke

that insult back down your throat!"

A dense crowd of excited tribesmen swarmed

around them as they were hauled into the

village and dropped roughly inside one of the

huts.

"Remain here and watch them closely," Gaa

snapped to the warriors who had brought them.

"The Sacred One is here!" exclaimed a Roon,

in tones of awe.

Carlin, looking up from where he lay bound,

saw Crazy Jonny staring down at them. The

mad Earthman, whom the Roons surrounded at

a respectful distance, gave Carlin a faint new

hope.

"Jonny, can you get them to let us go?" he

asked earnestly. "They'll listen to you."

THE madman shook his head. "Not even I can

save you now, for they know you have

committed the sin of seeking the Crypt of the

Old Ones." His voice rose, shrill with insane

fervor. "You were fools to come here

searching for the Crypt! Didn't I warn all in the

colony to keep out of the jungle? Didn't I warn

you all to leave Roo before your presence

awoke the Old Ones?"

Carlin, hearing that mad voice, gave up all

hope of assistance from the crazed Earthman.

Jonny was as fanaticaly superstitious as the

Roons.

Crazy Jonny had turned and now he was

loudly addressing all the awe-stricken Roon

people who had gathered in front of the

village.

He pointed up into the southern sky. "You

have seen for yourselves that the Crypt of the

Old Ones already has begun to open?"

A shiver of superhuman fear went through the

parrot-beaked red tribesmen. "We have seen."

"I bring you final warning!" shrilled the

madman. "Warning that tomorrow night the

Crypt will open completely!"

A gasp of horror came from the Roons. Crazy

Jonny raved on. "You will see it happen with

your own eyes. And you will know then that

unless you act swiftly to drive the star-men

from Roo, the Old Ones will come back to this

world and will again establish their dark

domain of dread."

"But each night we are offering sacrifice to

the Old Ones," a Roon chieftain exclaimed.

"Will that not assuage their wrath?"

"Nothing will prevent their waking but the

driving of all strangers from Roo!" declared

the insane Earthman. "Tomorrow night when

you see the great Crypt open, remember that."

Crazy Jonny stalked away without further

speech, and disappeared into the dark jungle.

The Roons looked after him in fearful silence.

It was clear now to Philip Carlin that the

crazed Earthman had become obsessed with

superstition about the Old Ones, to the point

where he was urging the tribesmen to drive his

own fellow-colonists from Roo. How had that

obsession become planted in the madman's

mind?

The Roons out there were talking in awed

voices, and looking fearfully up into the

southern sky where Black Moon was rising

higher. Seeing that, and remembering the

madman's words, Philip Carlin suddenly

experienced a blinding enlightenment.

"Grag, I've got it at last!" he gasped. "I know

now where the Crypt of the Old Ones is. Good

grief, we were fools not to see it before!"

"What do you mean? Where is the Crypt?"

demanded the bound robot.

"It's on Black Moon, the satellite of Roo!"

exclaimed the botanist.

"You're out of your mind!" exclaimed Grag.

"But wait--maybe it's possible, at that."

"It's the answer, I'm certain," declared Carlin.

"We thought the Crypt must be near this Roon

village because we knew the Roons were able

to observe the 'omens' of its opening. We never

figured it might be on Black Moon, which they

can look up and see in the sky each night!"

Before Carlin could elaborate on his stunned

surmise, he was interrupted by the loud voice

of Gaa speaking to the tribesmen. He was

haranguing the fearful crowd, and presently

they spoke loud assent.

Gaa came into the hut a little later with

horrifying information for the two captives.

"You are to be sacrificed tomorrow night to

the Old Ones," the Roon said. "Despite the

warning of the Sacred One, we still hope that

the Crypt will not open, that they will not

awake. Since it is you star-men whose

presence is stirring them to wakefulness, the

sacrifice of two of you may appease them."

Carlin felt the muscles around his heart

contract at the hideous prospect. "You're going

to give us to the night-dragons, you mean?"

"Of all the crazy nonsense I ever heard, this

stuff about the Old Ones is the wackiest!"

roared Grag. "Don't you know that the Old

Ones, as you call them, disappeared from the

universe a million years ago?"

Gaa nodded somberly. "Yes, they were

vanquished and destroyed on many worlds by

our ancestors of old. But here on Roo they

were not entirely destroyed. They merely

retreated into a sleep like death, from which

they planned some day to awake and re-

establish their ancient domain."

"You believe that the Crypt of the Old Ones

is on Black Moon, do you not?" Carlin asked

him.

Gaa nodded again. He pointed through the

doorway of the hut at the shadowed face of the

rising satellite.

"Do you see that round white spot near the

center of the moon's face? That is the Crypt of

the Old Ones, where they sleep."

"How, then, can you believe that it is

opening?" Carlin argued. "You can't see from

here."

"Yes, we can see," Gaa contradicted. "Look,

and you will see dark cracks on the face of the

white Crypt. They appeared there only months

ago, and have widened several times. They

mean the Crypt is opening."

CARLIN, straining his neck to peer up-ward,

did faintly make out the horizontal dark cracks

across the face of that white patch on the

moon.

"The cracks are there, all right," he said to

Grag when Gaa had gone. "Some accidental

landslips, I suppose."

"Landslips, nothing!" Grag retorted. "I'll bet a

planet against a meteor that those cracks were

made to appear, just to excite the Roons.

They're the 'omens' with which Harmer's bunch

have incited the tribesmen."

Carlin felt the force of the robot's reasoning.

He felt a bitterness to think that they had

finally penetrated the mystery, too late.

Darkness finally gave way to dawn. The long

hours of the hot day dragged by without

presenting the slightest chance of escape. They

were never unbound, and Roon warriors

watched over them every minute.

Grag broke the silence in the late afternoon

with a troubled comment. "Do you know, I'm

worried."

"I don't blame you, in a fix like this," said

Carlin dully.

"Oh, it's not that I'm worrying about-- it's

Eek," said the robot. "The poor little fellow

must be lurking out there in the jungle, afraid

to come to us. Suppose one of those hunting-

worms gets him?"

Carlin could not repress a half-hearted grin. It

seemed weird for his companion, in their

present situation, to worry about Eek.

Night came, and the Roon village stirred with

a fever of fearful anticipation. The great

dragon-drum began to throb in a muted

grumble as the shadowy face of Black Moon

rose out there above the ocean once more. It

was only a low, foreboding pulsing, not the

thunderous drumming that called the night-

dragons. But Philip Carlin's skin crawled as he

realized what soon was coming.

There was a sudden uproar a little later at the

jungle edge of the village. He glimpsed Roon

warriors running, and heard the distant crash of

an atom-pistol.

"That was an atom-gun!" Grag exclaimed

hopefully.

Then Gaa and a small crowd came excitedly

dragging a prisoner into the hut.

"Another spy of you star-men whom we have

caught!" cried Gaa fiercely. "There will be

three sacrifices to the Old Ones tonight!"

CHAPTER XV

Satellite Secret

BOUNCING and dipping on the rushing flood,

the rude raft that bore Captain Future and his

three comrades was racing down the broad

current of the jungle-bordered river of mystery.

"Is that critter still followin' us?" asked Ezra,

looking anxiously back into the yellow flood.

"Yes, I can just see the ripples of it--I guess it

still hopes one of us will fall overboard,"

replied Otho.

Just behind the raft, low ripples in the yellow

river told of a big, swimming body that was

trailing them beneath the surface. They had

glimpsed it once or twice and had recognized it

as a cyclopscrab, a giant, sluggish crustacean

monster that lived in sea and river.

Otho drew his atom-pistol. "I'll try to kill it."

"No, let it alone," Curt Newton said. "The

thing is too big. You might only infuriate it."

For hours, they had been trailed by the

sluggish, unseen monster. The Yellow River

was bearing them swiftly southward in their

quest for the Roon village and the mysterious

Crypt. The river now ran between shallow,

sloping rock of a canyon.

The red disk of Arkar was sinking behind the

horizon. In the gathering darkness, stars began

to appear. Newton estimated that they must

now be approaching the sea. That meant they

were near the Roon village, and the mysterious

Crypt of the Old Ones. "We've got to reach the

Crypt, before they create more omens there

and excite the Roons to boiling-point," he

muttered.

"Listen!" said Otho suddenly. "Do you hear

that?"

Darkness had fallen. The river was running

between sloping rock walls. The lessening of

its turbulent roar enabled them to hear the

sound Otho mentioned.

"Boom--boom--"

A low, deep grumbling sound, it throbbed

faintly to their ears from somewhere ahead, in

a regular rhythm.

"Roon drums," Captain Future said. "We're

near their village and the sea. We daren't go

farther on the open river. Push to shore!"

They urged the clumsy raft toward the bank

and, once ashore, Curt Newton rapidly mapped

his plan of action in the darkness.

"The Roon village is on the cliff above the

sea. We'll go downstream along the river bank

and reconnoiter. It'll be less risky than going

through the jungle. Joan, you stay here. No, I

don't want any argument! You're not going

along."

Joan Randall was still protesting as the three

left her. Despite her indignation, she made no

move to follow Newton. She knew that

Captain Future had only her own safety in

mind.

She sat down on the edge of the beached raft

in the darkness. A few minutes later a rustling

in the shadowy bushes caused her to leap to

her feet and draw her atom pistol. Then she

laughed in nervous relief. Out of the darkness

scuttled a small animal which flung itself upon

her ankles in an ecstasy of joy.

"Why, it's Eek!" Joan exclaimed, astounded.

"Grag must have taken you with him. But

where is Grag and Dr. Carlin?"

Eek got her thought, if not her words. The

moon-pup pawed her feet, then ran a little way

up the bank, then came back and repeated. It

was obvious that he was anxiously trying to get

her to follow.

"He wants to take me to Grag," Joan thought.

She quickly made up her mind. "All right,

Eek--you lead the way and I'll follow."

Joan delayed only to scribble a few words of

explanation on a sheet from her pocket-pad.

She put the leaf in a cleft stick on the raft,

where Newton would find it if he returned here

before she did.

"Now go ahead, Eek," she told the moon-pup.

"Take me to Grag."

Eek eagerly obeyed, starting up the bank. She

followed him into the jungle. Eek led

southeastward through dim game trails. The

distant pulse of drumming came louder.

Before long, they came suddenly to the end of

the jungle. Joan looked out in amazement at

the Roon village. Torches were alight among

the distant huts. She could see the big drum

that was being solemnly pounded by a tall

Roon warrior.

Eek was now acting tremendously excited.

Joan understood now.

"You mean Grag and Carlin are in the village

and in trouble," Joan said. "What shall I do

next."

She soon made up her mind. "I'll find out just

where they're being held, and go back for the

others."

SHE started slipping through the dark jungle at

the edge of the clearing, but Eek ruined her

plan. The Moon-pup figured that now that he

had brought Joan here, everything was clear

sailing. He ran out of the jungle toward the

huts.

She motioned for the moon-pup to come

back, but the damage was already done. A

Roon warrior had sighted the little animal, and

as he ran back toward Joan, the warrior saw

her also.

The Roon uttered a yell of alarm. Instantly a

score of warriors were pouring through the

jungle. Realizing her rashness too late, Joan

turned to flee. Before she had gone ten yards,

dark forms rose around her.

She drew her atom-pistol, but brawny arms

seized her from behind. Then, as she was

dragged out into the clearing, she recognized

Gaa's fierce face.

"I know this girl--she is another of the star-

men who captured me, another of them who

has come to spy on us!" Cried Gaa. "Bind her!"

They lashed Joan's arms and legs with tough

vine ropes, dragged her to one of the huts, and

flung her down upon its dirt floor. Nearby she

glimpsed Grag's mighty form and the prostrate

figure of Philip Carlin, both tightly bound.

"There will be three sacrifices for the Old

Ones tonight!" exclaimed Gaa.

"Joan, how did you get here?" cried Grag.

"That precious moon-pup of yours showed

me the way here, got me discovered, and then

escaped," she answered indignantly.

In a few further words, she told them of the

quest for the Crypt which had brought her with

Newton and Ezra and Otho.

"But the Crypt isn't near here at all--it's on

Black Moon!" groaned Carlin.

She stared, incredulous.

"Then the chief and Otho and Ezra will be

here soon to spy out this place?" Grag was

saying hopefully. "They'll get us out of this

jam--if we're not sacrificed before they get

here!"

Joan heard an ominous, gathering uproar of

fierce voices outside their hut, and her heart

sank.

"Grag, it looks as is the sacrifice is now."

A crowd of the tribesmen had now entered

the hut to drag the three captives forth. Some

of the Roons looked doubtfully at Grag's metal

figure.

"Maybe the Messengers of the Old Ones will

not be able to eat this one," suggested one.

"He is not of flesh."

"If they cannot, we will destroy him ourselves

after they go," shouted Gaa. "Thus the sacrifice

will still be consummated."

Joan and Carlin and the big robot were

dragged out onto the little promontory that

jutted over the sea. She had a glimpse of the

deep waters that washed the base of the cliff,

far below.

The Roons left the three lying bound and

helpless, side by side. Hastily the tribesmen

returned toward the village. In a few moments,

the great drum that had been throbbing so long

now began a thunderous summons.

"Boom--boom--boom--"

Joan felt an unreality that almost robbed her

of fear. The weirdness of the scene was like

that of a nightmare.

Carlin felt it too.

"Surely this is all a crazy dream," she heard

him saying in a dazed way. "I'll wake up back

in my Great New York rooms!"

It was no dream! For over the now

thunderously loud booming of the dragon-

drum, their ears caught the flap and thrash of

great wings up in the sky. Joan's veins seemed

to flow ice-water as she glimpsed a dark,

hideous shape gliding down across the

shadowed face of Black Moon.

"They're coming," she breathed.

Grag was making herculean efforts. Joan

thought he was making a vain attempt to break

his bonds. But the robot had another idea.

"Brace yourself, you two," Grag muttered as

he strained. "I'm going to try to roll on top of

you. Protect you from the dragons."

Almost with the words, Grag's attempt

succeeded. His giant metal figure rolled almost

crushingly on top of Carlin and Joan.

Next moment, the night around them seemed

alive with threshing wings and screeching,

demoniac cries. The night-dragons were

swooping to claim their victims.

Joan and Carlin, almost crushed by the bound

robot's weight, heard the clash of teeth and

talons on Grag's metal body. But that giant

metal form protected the girl and the botanist

from the ravening horde.

"Hope they keep it up," rumbled Grag. "They

can claw at me all night without doing

anything more than break their talons."

The night-dragons' onslaught had become

furious as the winged horrors found that their

fangs and claws made no impression on the

metal body of Grag. They clawed and tore with

screeching rage at the robot.

Grag suddenly uttered an exultant cry. "That

did it! I was hoping for it!"

He got to his feet, his bonds dropping from

him. Joan understood. The claws and fangs of

the night-dragons had finally severed the

robot's bonds.

GRAG leaped erect, bestriding Joan and Carlin

protectingly, and striking with his huge metal

hands at the flapping horde around them. He

gripped two of the dragons' necks and twisted

them, flung them away and smashed another of

the swooping horrors with his fist.

Until she died, Joan would not forget that

nightmare scene of epic combat--the giant

robot towering over her against the shadowy

sphere of Black Moon, bellowing as he fought

the swooping dragons--the screeching of the

attacking monsters--the thunder of the dragon-

drum.

The winged horde retreated momentarily

from the robot's flailing arms. Grag seized the

chance to reach down and snap Joan and

Carlin's bonds.

"We've got to get out of this cursed spot!" he

roared. "The dragons will get you two sooner

or later." He pointed down at the deep waters

surging far below. "That's our only escape.

Jump!"

Joan hesitated not a moment. With Carlin and

the robot, she leaped clear of the promontory

and hurtled toward the waters far below. . . .

When Captain Future and his two comrades

took leave of Joan, they pressed rapidly

southward along the river. They followed the

strand of beach at the foot of the sloping

canyon wall.

Ezra Gurney suddenly pointed at a smooth

ripple in the brighter waters of the river, a little

way out from shore.

"That blasted cyclops-crab is still followin'

us! The brute must have a one-track mind. I

don't like it. It's a bad omen."

The canyon wall in whose shadow they

tramped became steadily higher and steeper as

they followed the long, circuitous route of the

river. They had traveled for less than an hour

when Curt Newton suddenly stopped.

"Listen to that!" he exclaimed.

The drum-throb they had been dimly hearing

for some time had abruptly become much

louder. It was now a deep, rolling thunder.

"We're getting near the village," Newton

declared. "We'll circle and approach it from the

seaward side."

They tramped on with quickened strides, and

the smooth ripple of the unseen crustacean

monster still kept pace with them out in the

river.

A half-hour later, they followed the beach

around a wide turn in the river. Now they

glimpsed ahead of them the vast bosom of the

southern ocean, heaving under the dim light of

Black Moon.

"Look up there!" cried Ezra, pointing wildly.

"On that cliff--it's Grag!"

Curt Newton glanced upward and saw a sight

he would never forget.

On a promontory jutting out a hundred feet

above the mouth of the river, Grag's giant

metal form stood outlined against the face of

shadowy Black Moon. And Grag was

fighting--battling a horde of flapping night-

dragons that screeched down on him in

ferocious attack.

"Come on!" Captain Future cried. "We've got

to get up and help him. Look! There's Carlin!"

The booming of the drum was thunderous

above, and they knew the Roons were

somewhere close up there. But nothing

counted in this moment but the fierce loyalty

of the Futuremen to each other in time of

danger.

"Holy sun-imps, there's Joan up there with

them!" cried Otho. "She somehow found Grag

and Carlin!"

"Cap'n Future, they're going to jump!"

exclaimed Ezra.

Up on the promontory, Joan and Philip Carlin

had risen beside Grag as he momentarily drove

away the winged horde. Curt Newton felt a

frantic anxiety as he saw all three of them leap

and hurtle downward, to disappear in the deep

waters beneath the promontory.

"That cyclops-crab is out in those waters!"

Newton exclaimed hoarsely. "It'll get them!"

He dived into the dark water as he spoke, and

Otho followed. As they started to swim

outward, they saw the heads of Joan and Carlin

emerge above the surface and start moving

toward them.

Newton also saw the ominous ripple of the

giant crustacean moving toward Joan's head.

He tried to cry warning to her.

He knew he could not reach her in time. But

then an amazing thing happened. There was a

mad flurry in the waters where the cyclops-

crab had been. The sea there foamed, and then

became still again.

Newton got his arm around Joan and swam

with the exhausted girl toward the bank, while

Otho towed Carlin ashore.

"Joan, you're not hurt? How the devil did you

get up there when we left you at the raft?"

She explained breathlessly, and then

exclaimed, "But Grag?"

"Here he comes," Otho declared. "Water don't

bother Grag, when he doesn't breathe."

IT WAS true--Grag was striding up from the

waters to join them. The robot seemed for once

to be exhausted.

"You were the one who drove off the

cyclops-crab?" Newton asked.

"Drove him off?" grunted the giant robot. "I

blamed near tore him in half! I was starting to

walk ashore when I looked up and saw the

beast swimming toward Joan, so I reached up

and grabbed him."

"Quiet!" Captain Future warned. "The Roons

up there mustn't hear us."

Fortune favored them in that the night-

dragons, still screeching in balked fury around

the promontory, prevented the Roons above

from approaching the cliff to look downward.

Curt Newton rapidly led the way back up the

beach along the river. Not until they were well

away from the Roon village did he stop.

"Now tell me what happened to you," he said

to Grag and Carlin. "Most important, did you

find the Crypt of the Old Ones?"

Grag nodded. "We found out where it is."

"Good!" said Newton. "We've got to get there

fast."

"Chief, we can't get to the Crypt quickly,"

Grag replied. "It's on Black Moon."

Captain Future was stunned. "That's

impossible!"

"It's the truth!" Philip Carlin said. "That

round white area on the face of the moon is the

Crypt! And the cracks in it are the 'omens'

which have so excited the Roons."

Newton was aghast. "Then that's where Ka

Thaar and the rest are going tonight in the

Firebird--to Black Moon. And we can't

follow to stop him without the Comet--and it

will take at least a night and a day for us to

tramp back to the colony and our ship!"

The chill of defeat, almost of despair,

contracted his heart. There seemed no way

now to prevent the fruition of the coldblooded

plot.

"It's my fault," he said bitterly. "I was so dead

sure that the Crypt of the Old Ones was near

this place. It's too late to get back to the Comet

in time, but we've got to try. Come on."

They went upstream along the river bank for

some distance further, and then climbed the

sloping rock wall to the jungle.

It took minutes of struggling through the

jungle before they found a "shuffler" trail that

led northward toward the colony. They started

with urgent haste on the long, desperate trek.

Before they had gone far, Grag uttered a

joyful exclamation as Eek came scuttling out

of the brush in an ecstasy of rejoicing.

"Depend on Eek to find me sooner or later!"

he boasted.

"Hurry!" exclaimed Captain Future.

His voice was raw with desperation, and the

pace he set was almost frenzied. Yet in his

heart, Curt Newton had the freezing

knowledge that all their haste was really futile.

For as he looked up through the trees at Black

Moon, slowly rising toward the zenith, he

knew that Lu Suur's men must already be there

or on their way there to set off the final

"omen."

And that would rouse every Roon of the

planet's wild tribes to superstitious, fanatic

attack on the colony, an attack that would

inevitably bring secession and disaster.

And the Futuremen were two hundred

thousand miles from Black Moon, and a dozen

hours' march from the ship that could take

them there!

CHAPTER XVI

To the Dark Moon

IN ACCORDANCE with instructions, the

Brain had remained at the Carlin plantation

two mornings before, when Carlin and Grag

had gone into the jungles in their search and

Joan and Ezra had departed to confer with the

Governor.

Simon Wright had acceded to Newton's

request that he stay here and construct one of

the Wands of Power which might so impress

the tribesmen as to check their superstitious

fears if the other plan failed.

He explained his intentions to Zamok and Lin

Sao, who remained with him.

"We learned the details of those so-called

Wands of Power which the ancient Denebians

used against the Kangas, when we visited

Deneb years ago. The diagrams of the

instrument are in the file in our ship. By

constructing an exact duplicate of one of those

ancient instruments, we can convince the

Roons that we can protect them even if the Old

Ones awake. That will allay their superstitious

fears."

"But you won't need it if the others find the

Crypt and stop the 'omens,'" pointed out

Zamok.

"No, we won't need it then, but we Futuremen

are not in the habit of leaving anything to

chance," replied the Brain.

Simon Wright glided out ahead of them

through the hot sunglare to the Comet, parked

in the concealment of the feather-trees. The

main cabin of the streamlined little ship was in

effect a compact flying laboratory, whose

facilities had more than once been invaluable

to the Futuremen.

The Brain floated to a compact cabinet which

held a large reference library reduced to micro-

film. It contained not only the scientific studies

of other men, but also the notes of every

important experiment and voyage which the

Futuremen had ever conducted.

Using his magnetic tractor-beams as deftly as

arms and hands, the Brain searched an index

and then drew out a micro-film spool which he

placed in the projector. On a small, square

screen, it flashed enlarged reproductions of

many pages of closely written notes.

These were the notes of the Futuremen's early

star-voyage of exploration. He flashed pages

past until he came to the record of their

memorable visit to distant Deneb. Here was all

the information the Denebians had given them

about the ancient, dreaded Kangas.

"Ah, this is what I wanted," murmured Simon

Wright, as another page came into view.

It was the complete diagram of a highly

complex instrument of the ancient Denebian

scientist. The Brain studied it carefully.

"Yes, I remember the wiring plan now," he

muttered. "We built the thing once in the

moon-laboratory as an experiment, and it

worked then. But it won't be an easy job

alone."

He assembled tools and materials and then

started work. The two vitron-scientists were

biologists, not physicists, and they watched

with baffled incomprehension as he shaped and

fitted tiny coils, condensers and wiring.

The hot hours of the day passed as the Brain

labored untiringly. Night had fallen by the time

Simon finished his task. He showed them the

instrument he had built. It consisted of a

headset of flat, complex induction coils, which

were connected by a multiple cable to a cone-

tipped tungsten rod.

"And that thing is the Wand of Power?" asked

Lin Sao.

"That's merely the legendary name given it by

the Roons," Simon answered. "The Denebians

who invented it called it a psycho-amplifier. Its

induction coils pick up the encephalic-electric

currents of the human brain, amplify them

mechanically many times, and project the

powerful, concentrated electric vibration from

this rod."

"You mean that that thing amplifies thought?"

Zamok asked incredously. "But how could it

be used as a weapon?"

"The Kangas of long ago had alien bodies but

giant minds," Simon informed him. "They used

mental attack as their chief weapon. To counter

their hypnotic attack, the Denebians invented

this instrument." He put the contrivance away.

"If we have to utilize the thing to impress the

Roons, we can use it on one of them. Then

they'll believe we can protect them from the

Old Ones."

Night was well advanced, and Black Moon

was near the zenith as the Brain and the two

scientists issued from the Comet.

"We'd better wait in the house," said Simon.

"Joan and Ezra should be back soon with their

report."

But the night passed without the appearance

of the girl agent and the old marshal. When

morning came, Simon was uneasy.

"Even if they found a clue to Lu Suur's trail,

they should have returned to inform us," he

murmured. "But they'll be here shortly."

Yet by the hot noontide of this second day,

Joan and Ezra still had not returned. The Brain

finally voiced an anxious conviction.

"Something's happened to Ezra and Joan!

They would surely have returned or sent back

word to me, otherwise."

"What could happen to them in Rootown?"

Zamok asked doubtfully.

"I don't know, and I can't go into the town by

daylight to find out without being recognized

and giving away our presence on Roo," said

Simon. "Will you go in and look for them?"

The Martian scientist acceded, and left

immediately. Not until soon after nightfall did

he return.

He confessed failure. "I couldn't find them, or

any trace of them. I did manage to ascertain

that they had called on Governor Walker King

yesterday morning, but after they left him they

disappeared."

Simon Wright's foreboding deepened. "Then

something has happened to them. They must

have got too close to Lu Suur's trail."

He made up his mind. "Curtis should be told

at once. He would never forgive us if Joan

were in danger and we didn't let him know."

"But he and Otho are disguised as Rab Cain

and Li Sharn," objected Lin Sao. "If you, one

of the Futuremen, are seen talking to them, it

would ruin their plans."

"I won't be seen," the Brain assured. "Under

cover of darkness, I can get to them quickly.

You two wait here."

The Brain glided out of the house into the

darkness. Jetting a powerful but almost

invisible magnetic beam from his strange,

square "body", he swept swiftly up into the

night sky.

His lens-like eyes studied the terrain. Black

Moon had not yet risen but he knew his

bearings. He started hurtling speedily

northwestward through the upper darkness

toward Li Sharn's plantation. Its location was

clear in his mind from the previous

discussions.

He soon swept down toward the plantation. It

lay dark and silent in the starlight. Gliding

soundlessly around its windows, Simon Wright

soon assured himself that the place was

deserted.

Poised in the darkness, he swiftly considered

the situation. "Curt and Otho may be at

Harmer's place."

He knew where it was. Rapidly, the Brain

glided through the darkness.

Soon he saw lights at Harmer's plantation.

The place was a hive of activity. Outside the

grove of trees that surrounded the house lay a

small, swift-looking rocket-cruiser with the

name Firebird on its bows.

Hurrying men were carrying small, square

black cases aboard the cruiser. They were

superintended by a lean young Mercurian

whom Simon knew must be Ka Thaar. Nearby

stood the plump, worried-looking Jed Harmer.

A man's voice came sharply from the door of

the cruiser. "Hurry with those charges! We've

little time as it is."

"It's your own fault we're late, Lu Suur," Ka

Thaar answered. "We were waiting for you as

you ordered."

The Brain, hovering unseen above them in the

darkness, felt a thrill of excitement when he

heard that name. Lu Suur?

He glided a little lower, peering down at the

man who stood in the door of the lighted

Firebird, the man who was Lu Suur. It was an

Earthman, to all appearance. Simon had never

seen him before. But he thought he recognized

him from his comrade's descriptions.

"But that's impossible!" thought Simon Wright,

staggered. "He can't be Lu Suur?"

"I couldn't get away sooner without arousing

suspicion," Lu Suur was replying angrily to the

young Mercurian. "You should have had

everything ready. You disobeyed my orders.

You should have killed the Randall girl and old

Gurney at once!"

Ka Thaar's voice had a dangerous edge in it.

"You said to get them out of the way. I didn't

suppose you meant me to murder an old man

and a girl."

Jed Harmer intervened diplomatically. "It's all

right--they'll be safe enough out in the Valley

of Dream Flowers with Li Sharn and Cain to

guard them."

"I'll worry about them later, but right now

we've got to get started for the Crypt if we're to

be in time," snapped Lu Suur.

"The last charges are aboard," reported Ka

Thaar.

"Come on, then!" exclaimed the other man,

turning and disappearing into the ship.

KA THAAR and the other men entered the

cruiser, while Harmer stepped back.

The Brain, hovering up in the darkness, had

been feverishly wondering what he could do. It

was clear that Lu Suur and his followers were

starting for the Crypt of the Old Ones to set off

the final "omens."

Simon had no weapon, nor would any single

weapon have been enough to overcome the

powerful little band of Lu Suur. Neither could

the Brain enter the cruiser, with the others in

its doorway.

The door of the Firebird closed. The little

rocket-cruiser blasted fire from its keel tubes

and rose into the air. Then it darted away into

the starry sky at an immense rate of speed. And

it headed straight toward the dim sphere of

Black Moon, just rising above the horizon.

"Is it possible the Crypt is there?" Simon

Wright thought, incredulously.

He jetted his driving-beams and flashed back

through the darkness at his highest speed,

returning toward Carlin's plantation.

The Brain had decided on the only hopeful

course of action. He explained it swiftly to

Zamok and Lin Sao, when he reached the

plantation.

"The conspiracy is rushing toward its crisis

and we'll have to strike fast now! I'm going to

take the Comet and go for Curt and Otho. Do

you know where the Valley of Dream Flowers

is?"

Lin Sao shook his head blankly.

"I've heard of such a valley filled with

poisonous, dangerous flowers," Zamok said.

It's said to be in the jungle between here and

the Austral Ocean. But no one knows just

where."

"Then we'll have to search for it," Simon

declared indomitably. "We must warn Curt and

Otho at once."

A few minutes later, the Comet rose out of its

concealment and roared away above the

jungles at an altitude of a thousand yards.

The Brain was piloting the super-powered

little craft. Simon's square "body" rested on the

pilot-chair, his tractor beams gripping the

space-stick, his lens eyes peering ahead and

downward.

"We'll sweep out in widening circles over the

jungle," he rasped. "If we don't find the Valley

in a half-hour, we will have to forget the others

and to follow Lu Suur to the Crypt."

He and the two scientists peered downward

tensely as the Comet swept over the dark

jungle in widening circles. Hordes of tree-bats

startled by the roar of rocket-tubes swept up

around them. Night-dragons flapped away

from the thundering little ship, in frantic flight.

But by the dim starlight, they could see no

such valley as they sought. Simon Wright's

hopes were waning fast. The search was an

almost impossible one. He dared waste no

more time in it.

"Look down there behind us," exclaimed Lin

Sao. "A fire is springing up."

Simon swept the ship sharply around. A

pinpoint of red flame had appeared in the

jungle over which they had flown a few

moments before. It was spreading out into an

irregular patch of fire.

"It's a thicket of reeds and brush burning,"

said Zamok. "Maybe a spark from our rocket

tubes--"

"No! That's a signal!" exclaimed the Brain.

"See those gun-flashes!"

The tiny, brilliant streaks of atom-gun blasts

had spurted in the dark jungle close by the

spreading flames. The flashes made a code.

He sent the Comet roaring downward without

hesitation, for he knew that code. The ship

landed between two giant trees. When they

opened the door, they had the welcome sight of

Captain Future and the other two Futuremen,

and Joan and Ezra and Carlin, running toward

them.

"Simon!" cried Curt Newton. "Thank space

you saw our signal! We heard and recognized

the rocket-tubes of the Comet, and set fire to

the reeds and brush in the hope you'd see. How

did you come here?"

The Brain's explanations were quickly made

as they piled aboard.

"Lu Suur and Ka Thaar and their men are on

their way to the Crypt, Curt! They headed in

the direction of Black Moon."

Curt nodded. "That's where the Crypt is, and

that's where the showdown is going to be.

We've got to overtake them before they create

more omens."

NEWTON sprang for the pilot-chair. Now he

shouted for Otho to close the space-door, and

at the same moment jammed down the

cycpedal and yanked back the space-stick.

The Comet screamed up out of the jungle and

tore out through the atmosphere of Roo on

wings of flame and thunder. Straight toward

the rising sphere of Black Moon it shot,

accelerating at a nightmare rate.

As the little ship tore out into space, Joan

Randall was excitedly questioning the Brain.

"Then you saw Lu Suur? Who was he? What

did he look like?

Curt Newton, hunched over the space-stick,

said over his shoulder: "He was an elderly-

looking Earthman, wasn't he? Gray-haired,

with a wrinkled face and heavy spectacles?"

"Yes," said Simon.

"But that's a description of Walker King, the

Governor!" exclaimed Joan incredulously.

Newton nodded grimly. "Joan, Walker King

is Lu Suur. I guessed it hours ago, and should

have known it from the first."

He explained in rapid, jerky sentences as his

haggard eyes searched the sphere of Black

Moon, expanding across the sky ahead.

"We figured, remember, that since no

Venusian remotely resembling Lu Suur was

known here, Lu Suur must be posing as an

Earthman. I should have surmised Walker

King was an imposter that first afternoon I

arrived, when King came out into the sunbaked

plaza and expostulated with Harmer.

"King wore no sun-helmet! No Earthman can

stand the full glare of Arkar on his unprotected

head for more than a few minutes without

collapsing. You saw it happen to me. But a

Venusian can stand that glare. I should have

known then King was a Venusian; Lu Suur in

disguise.

"But I didn't see it, until that touch of sun I

got in the Valley made me remember. Then I

realized something else. It must have been

King who informed Ka Thaar that you and

Ezra were looking for Crazy Jonny. He was the

only one who knew you were. King had to be

our man!"

"But the man's a System Government

official!" protested Ezra. "Government

officials don't betray their trust and throw in

with traitors!"

"No regular Government man ever does,"

Newton rapped. "But Walker King was not a

regular Government officer. He was, as he told

you, simply a colonist here whose friends

petitioned his appointment as Governor when

New York decided to appoint a colony man

who knew local conditions."

"Of course, and it would be easy for Lu Suur

to make up as an Earthman when he first came

to Roo!" exclaimed Otho, "A chemical

bleach to turn his hair gray, an astringent to

wrinkle his skin, and thick spectacles for his

eyes were all he needed."

"Then King is the one who sent poor Crazy

Jonny in to the Roons with that mad story to

arouse their superstitions?" questioned Joan.

Newton nodded somberly. "Jonny's dimmed

mind would be impressed and convinced by

the assertions of the Governor. It would be

easy. We've faced no more dangerous

antagonist than this man. When Lu Suur's

vitron monopoly on Venus was broken years

ago, he came to Roo. And he came with just

one purpose--to set up a new monopoly here

and absolutely control the vitron supply.

"Step by step, he's followed a path to that

purpose. Harmer has been merely his

figurehead, Ka Thaar and the others his hired

gunmen. His has been the brain and will

behind the whole black scheme. When he had

worked himself into the key position of

Governor, he could start to act. In that position,

he could do everything that would provoke

revolt even while he pretended to be trying to

repress it."

Black Moon now loomed huge ahead of

them, its shadowed rocky hills and plains

wearing the round white central plateau on

their breast like a dazzling jewel.

Black yawned the ominous cracks and

chasms in the plateau, the omens that had

touched frenzied fear in the tribes back on

Roo. And now their ship was rushing down

toward the mysterious satellite.

CHAPTER XVII

Crypt of the Old Ones

SPITTING jets of yellow flame, the Comet

screamed down through the thin atmosphere of

Black Moon, and scudded low across the face

of the shadowy satellite.

The planet Roo, like a giant ruddy moon in

the heavens above them, cast a pink glow upon

the whole wild scene. This weird planet-glow

illuminated arid, lifeless plains and low rocky

hills, and was reflected brightly by the round

white plateau at the center of the moonscape.

The plateau was dozens of miles in diameter,

of a white rock quite different in appearance

than the dark stone of the rest of the satellite.

The yawning cracks across the face of the

white area were clearly visible from here as

deep chasms. Around the plateau lay low,

black rocky hills.

"That white plateau is the legendary location

of the Crypt," Captain Future said. "Lu Suur's

ship, the Firebird, will be somewhere nearby.

Watch for it."

He steered their own rocketing craft around

the rim of the white plateau. Their eyes tensely

searched the planet-lighted defiles and

shadowy gorges of the surrounding hills.

They were skirting the eastern rim of the

white area when Otho's sharp eyes detected

what they sought. The android uttered a cry.

"There's the Firebird! In that little valley back

in the eastern hills!"

Curt Newton instantly glimpsed the ship of

their enemies. The rocket-cruiser was parked

in the deep shadows, a mile from the plateau in

the hills.

"Stand by our guns!" he shouted to Grag and

Otho. "If they try to escape, we'll have to shoot

them down."

"No, we've caught 'em by surprise," yelled

Grag. "Look there."

Two men were running frantically across the

valley toward the Firebird as the Comet roared

down and landed beside a crumbling rock

monolith. The Futuremen burst out of their

ship and Curt Newton fired his atom-pistol in a

crashing blast that ripped up the ground beside

the two fleeing men.

"Stop and raise your hands or you get the next

blast in your backs!" he shouted.

The two turned wildly. More than by the

menace of the leveled atom-guns, they seemed

overwhelmed by the inhuman appearance of

Grag and the Brain as they advanced through

the pink planet-glow.

Newton recognized the men as two yellow

Uranians who had belonged to Jed Harmer's

hirelings.

"Otho, take their guns. Then watch them

while we rush the ship."

But the Firebird, when they approached it,

proved to be deserted. Captain Future returned

to his two captives. The two Uranians seemed

stunned by the fact that "Li Sharn" and "Rab

Cain" were allied with the Futuremen and their

comrades.

"Where are Lu Suur and Ka Thaar and the

rest?" snapped Newton.

The men maintained a sullen silence. Captain

Future spoke to Grag. "You can make them

talk, I know. You have my permission."

"With pleasure," exclaimed the robot. He

stalked forward.

The sight of the giant, menacing metal figure

approaching them broke the nerve of the

captives as Newton had thought it would.

"Wait, we'll tell you," babbled one of the

Uranians. He pointed westward. "Ka Thaar and

the others are over there by the edge of the

plateau, planting explosive charges to blow the

whole plateau. They left our cruiser here to

avoid risk of damaging it. Those trinite

charges are so powerful they didn't want to

take any chances."

Curt Newton swung toward his friends. "Then

we've got to hurry. Otho, tie those men up.

Joan, you stay here with Zamok and Lin Sao to

guard them."

"I won't stay!" Joan retorted. "You know I

can handle an atom-gun better than most men,

and you'll need every weapon."

Curt Newton turned to expostulate with her.

But the words never left his lips. For as he

turned, his eyes had fallen upon the massive,

crumbling stone monolith beside which the

Comet had landed.

The monolith was no work of nature. It was

too squarely symmetrical in outline for that.

And upon its face were graven long rows of

half-crumbled hieroglyphics of curious shapes.

"Why, that's ancient Denebian writing!"

exclaimed Captain Future, amazed.

"What if it is?" cried Otho. "This is no time to

be thinking of planetary archaeology. We're

ready to start, chief!"

NEWTON paid no attention to the protest. He

strode toward the monolith. The presence of

the ancient hieroglyphics on this lonely moon

had suddenly brought the whisper of a terrible

suspicion into his mind.

His eyes tensely scanned the half-crumbled

inscription. Captain Future was one of the few

people in the universe who could read the

ancient Denebian writing -- he had learned to

do so at Deneb itself.

As he read, he was seized by an apprehension

close to horror. And the Brain, who had glided

to his side and was also searching the writing

with his lens eyes, seemed frozen by an equal

emotion.

"Good heavens!" exclaimed Curt Newton,

thunderstruck. "We never guessed, we never

dreamed."

"Curt, what is it?" cried Joan.

Newton's brow was damp despite the chill of

the thin air and his eyes had a dazed look.

"This inscription--it proves that the belief of

the Roons about the Old Ones is true!"

Joan and the others stared incredulously.

"Curt, you can't mean that some of the ancient

Kangas are really sleeping in that Crypt?"

"The Kangas all became extinct a million

years ago," protested Ezra.

"We always thought they did," Newton said

hoarsely. "But the evidence of this inscription

is incontrovertible. The ancient Denebians

placed it here as a warning. Listen!"

Huskily, rapidly, he translated aloud the half-

defaced inscription upon the monolith. His lips

moved with words:

"--disturb not the white plain, for beneath it...

crypt in which lie the last of the Kangas. We of

Deneb . . . fought and conquered them on

many worlds, but on this world a remnant of

them fled from us and . . . buried themselves in

hiding here, passing into suspended animation

by their power of self-hypnosis.

"These were the most powerful of the dark

ancient ones and we thought it wisest not to

attempt to destroy them lest we wake them and

be unable to overcome them. It was safest . . .

let them sleep on, and place . . . warnings for

those of future ages.

"Heed the warnings! Disturb not the buried

dark ones! They will not wake until ages from

now this moon approaches so close its planet

that it breaks up and thus uncovers the crypt.

When . . . far future day comes, be on guard

then against the waking of the dark ones.

"Until then, seek not to unearth them! Let this

moon be deserted and shunned of men. Let the

dark ones sleep on until the far future break-up

of this moon, for by then . . . our race will be

powerful enough to be in no danger from

them."

Captain Future's hoarse voice seemed to have

cast a spell of horror on the others. They stared

at him wildly in the pink planet-glow.

"Then, if Lu Suur and the others blow the

plateau and uncover the Crypt, the Kangas

inside it will awake?" cried Joan.

"Yes, and that means awful danger for all

humans on Roo, perhaps for all the humans in

the universe," Curt Newton said thickly.

"Those monstrous survivals of the dim past,

those alien ones whom even the mighty

Denebians of old could hardly conquer,

coming forth--"

He broke off, his face glistening with

perspiration. "No time to lose now! Lu Suur's

got to be stopped before he blows the plateau."

Newton dived back into the Comet, came

bursting out in a moment. He was hastily

shoving an object into his blouse. He ran

forward.

"Come on! And if we have to shoot, shoot to

kill! We can't take any chances now!"

In the terrible urgency that drove him, he

made no protest at Joan Randall accompanying

them. He led the way in long, running strides

eastward through the low rock hills toward the

plateau.

Grag and Otho kept pace with him despite his

fierce haste, the Brain gliding beside them.

And Ezra and Joan and the bewildered,

stunned Philip Carlin were close behind.

Newton's soul was a turmoil of ancient and

awful fears, fears that had stalked the shadowy

history of the universe for ten thousand

centuries.

They ran through the rocky defiles, and

approached the last ridge between them and

the plateau.

"Up this way!" Captain Future said hoarsely.

"We should be able to spot Lu Suur and the

others from that ridge."

"Look out!" cried the Brain sharply, at that

moment.

FROM behind the crest of the ridge toward

which they had just started to climb, a small,

square black object hurtled up into the air. It

curved up and outward and then started to fall

directly toward them.

Newton instantly recognized the terrible

nature of the missle. It was a sealed charge of

trinite, most powerful of explosives. It would

fall directly among them, and the resulting

blast would obliterate them.

Captain Future took the only action possible.

The atom-pistol in his hand came up with

blurring speed, and from it a streak of white

fire lanced upward.

"Down, all!' Newton yelled at the same

moment he fired.

His aim had been unerring, and the

concentrated atom-blast from his pistol hit the

trinite charge falling toward them.

Next moment, a terrific blast exploded in the

air above them. The tremendous wave of

compressed air from it smashed down at them

in a stunning shock.

Curt Newton had thrown himself flat,

protecting Joan with his own body. But the

smashing shock smacked his head against the

ground with such force that consciousness

flowed out of him. As he fought fiercely to

retain his reeling senses his atom-pistol had

been snatched from his hand. Realization of

the fact spurred his stunned mind back to

clarity. He scrambled wildly to his feet.

Too late! As they had lain stunned, a half

dozen men had seized all their weapons and

now confronted them with the threatening

muzzles of their own atom-guns.

"Devils of space!" raged Otho. "Lu Suur's

men!"

A voice called down from the ridge. "Bring

them up here, if they're still living."

Curt Newton, appalled by the suddenness of

the disaster, perceived that none of his

comrades had been more than dazed. But

resistance to the menacing weapons leveled at

them was hopeless.

The vicious-eyed, squat green Jovian who

covered Newton with his weapon pointed up

the slope with it. "March, Cain! All of you!"

Grag was swearing blisteringly in his

rumbling voice. Two atom-guns covered the

giant robot and the Brain. A movement at

resistance by any of them meant death.

Newton felt a bitter despair raging in his soul.

But not yet had he given up hope of preventing

ultimate disaster. No matter what happened to

them, the ancient horror that slept on this moon

must not be awakened.

They reached the ridge. It was higher than the

plateau, and they could look out across that

cracked, glaring white expanse. Four other

men were running from the plateau toward the

ridge.

But the eyes of Captain Future and his

comrades were riveted for the moment on the

man who faced them. A gray-haired, elderly-

looking Earthman, whose thick spectacles

glinted at them mockingly in the pink glow--

"Walker King!" hissed Otho. "You were

right, chief. He is Lu Suur!"

Lu Suur in turn seemed amazed as he looked

at Newton and Otho. "So you and Cain turned

traitor and helped these Futuremen, Li Sharn?"

he snapped. "You'll wish you hadn't done that."

The Venusian plotter's eyes flicked toward

Grag and the Brain. "Yes, I recognized you

two as two of the Futuremen as soon as I saw

you coming. And the girl and old Gurney." He

laughed. "You've proved pitifully stupid

without Future himself to lead you. You should

have known that we'd see your ship landing

and would expect you to come after us."

Lu Suur nodded toward a half-dozen small

black cases which lay on the ground near a

piece of electrical apparatus with a protruding

antenna.

"Lucky we had a few trinite charges we

hadn't planted yet, wasn't it? That one we

tossed should have blown you to tatters. But

you are quick with a gun, Cain."

Before Curt Newton could speak, the four

men who had come running up from the white

plateau reached the ridge.

Ka Thaar was the leader of the four. The

Mercurian youngster's thin face wore a look of

alarm as he exclaimed to Lu Suur.

"What was that blast? We heard it just as we

were planting the last charges, and were afraid

you'd used the detonator prematurely."

KA THAAR'S voice trailed off into silence.

The young Mercurian had now noticed the

captives. His tawny eyes seemed to distend in

amazement as he looked at the giant metal

figure of Grag and the hovering Brain.

"Two of the Futuremen!" he exclaimed in a

low voice.

"Yes, two of the famous Futuremen," said Lu

Suur satirically. "Those living wonders you

have always talked about. They look pretty

harmless now, don't they?"

Ka Tharr made no answer. He was staring at

the robot and Simon Wright, as though still

unable to believe his eyesight.

Curt Newton spoke desperately. "Lu Suur,

what happens to us is important only to us.

But whatever you do, you must not detonate

the charges you've planted down in that

plateau."

"And why not?" demanded Lu Suur

ironically. "We've gone to considerable pains

to prepare them. The radio-detonator here will

set them off and blow this whole plateau open.

The sight of that will madden the Roons to a

panic that will send them against the colony in

a big attack and that means the secession I've

had in mind for nine years."

"I know all that," Captain Future said. "And

I'm not trying to appeal to your conscience. I'm

appealing entirely to your self-interest when I

tell you that you must not blow the plateau!"

Lu Suur looked at him narrowly. "Cain, what

are you trying to say?"

"That the legends of the Roons are true, that

the Old Ones, the Kangas, actually sleep in a

crypt beneath that plateau and will awake if

their crypt is uncovered by your blast," cried

Newton.

Lu Suur burst into laughter. "Cain, you're an

ingenious sort of traitor. Too bad you turned

out to be a Patrol spy. I could really have used

a man of your cleverness."

"It's true!" Curt Newton affirmed desperately.

"You saw the inscribed monolith back there in

the valley where you left your ship?"

"There are old carved monoliths like that all

around the plateau, remnants of some crazy

forgotten race," said La Suur contemptuously.

"They're warnings," Newton insisted.

"Warning written by the ancient Denebians of

the Kangas who lie beneath the plateau."

"And I suppose you can read ancient

Denebian?" mocked the other. "The lie isn't

even clever."

Newton, desperately trying to convince the

Venusian, put his hands up to his face,

removed waxite plugs, pulled away false scar-

tissue. His hands came down to reveal his own

normal clear, tanned face instead of the evil,

scarred countenance of Rab Cain.

"What does that prove?" snapped Lu Suur.

"As a Patrol spy, you'd naturally be

disguised--"

He was interrupted. Ka Thaar was staring at

Newton, and there was a wild expression on

the young Mercurian's face. He uttered a cry.

"Captain Future!"

CHAPTER XVIII

The Kangas

GRIMLY, Curt Newton had taken this final

desperate gamble to convince the arch-

conspirator of the reality of dreadful peril. The

disclosure of his identity seemed almost

stunning.

In their eyes, the Earthman whom they had

known as Rab Cain seemed suddenly mantled

with the fame that for years had blazed one

name across the universe like a meteor.

"Future!" hissed Lu Suur. All his irony, his

satiric amusement was gone now. Naked

hatred glared in his eyes. "So you've been on

Roo all this time?"

"Yes," said Newton. "And you know now that

I can read Denebian, that my warning about

the plateau is no trick!"

Lu Suur, glaring at him, seemed not to have

heard. "I might have known," he whispered.

"The stories that you had been shot down and

lay wounded back in the System, the whole

set-up--it was clear enough, if only I'd seen

it."

He shook his head. "Future, I underestimated

you. But now you are underestimating me

when you try to stop me with this last crazy

strategem. Do you think I've spent all these

years at Roo, playing a part I hated and

working toward secession and a vitron

monopoly, to give it up now because you

threaten me with childish superstitions?" His

voice took on a deadly meaning. "I'm not

making the mistake a lot of men have made, of

letting you live a minute too long."

Ka Thaar had been staring at Curt Newton

during these moments. But now the young

Mercurian turned to Lu Suur. "But the danger

must be real," cried Ka Thaar. "If Captain

Future says the Kangas will awake if we blow

the plateau, it must be so!"

"You ought to know that it's only another

trick," snapped Lu Suur. "But then, you always

were hypnotized by this fellow's fame."

"But if you blow open the crypt, the Kangas

will awake!"" persisted Ka Thaar.

"They won't--all that is merely Roon

legend," declared the Venusian. "Watch these

prisoners. I'll deal with them in a moment but

it's time we set off the blast now."

With hopeless eyes, Captain Future saw Lu

Suur starting toward the radio-detonator which

would fire the charges buried in the plateau.

A half-dozen atom-guns covered Newton and

his comrades. Their own captured weapons lay

on the ground out. of reach. But Curt Newton

gathered himself for a final suicidal attempt to

stop the Venusian.

But Ka Thaar had suddenly swung around

toward Lu Suur. The Mercurian's cry was

sharp, imperative.

The Mercurian youngster had both his atom-

pistols in his hands and his tawny eyes were

flaming as he faced the others.

Lu Suur stopped and turned. "Don't be a fool,

Ka! You can't turn against me at this stage of

the game."

Ka Thaar's thin, dark face was set like metal.

"I've been loyal to you when it was a mere

matter of inciting the Roons and bringing on a

rebellion. But this in different. This means

planetary disaster."

Lu Suur's eyes became like ice behind his

spectacles.

"Drop those weapons, Ka. You haven't a

chance. We got eight atom-guns."

Ka Thaar's tawny eyes flared brighter as he

stood, slightly crouched, facing the men whose

atom-guns were trained on Captain Future and

his comrades.

"Eight guns?" mocked the Mercurian

youngster. "Then which of you eight wants to

be the first to shoot it out with me?"

The brutal faces of the motley criminals grew

livid with fear and rage. Yet none of them

dared turn his weapon away from Newton and

others toward the Mercurian's thin, crouched

figure.

Ka Thaar's dark face was terrible as he

taunted them. "Eight of you, all afraid of my

reputation as a gunman? Eight, afraid to shoot

it out with one? By space, I'm glad that I'm

through with you all!"

He took a quick step sidewise, his tigerish

eyes never leaving the frozen line of men. His

foot moved out then to kick the atom-pistols on

the ground toward Curt Newton.

"Pick them up, Future," he said.

Then the spell broke. The burly, vicious-eyed

Jovian in the row of criminals uttered an oath

and swung his gun toward Ka Thaar.

ATOM-GUNS crashed like lightning and

living bolts of fire seemed to dance between

the men. Ka Thaar was standing, his atom-

pistols jetting blinding death at the criminals

who were firing at him as they turned. The

Jovian was down, two other were falling--

Captain Future had dived to snatch up one of

the weapons on the ground. He came up with

it, working the trigger as he rose, his and the

Mercurian's deadly, unerring blasts scything

the men before them.

Grag was rushing forward, booming his

battle-cry. Otho and Ezra and Carlin were

beside him. A gun-blast seared Newton's

cheek as his own blast cut down the Uranian

who had fired it.

He dimly heard Joan's cry. "Curt--Lu Suur!"

The Venusian arch-plotter, near the radio-

detonator, had whipped out his weapon and

fired. Ka Thaar, rushing forward to intercept

Lu Suur, took that blast in his side and

staggered to his knees.

The raging Venusian was bending, fumbling

with the switches of the detonators. Captain

Future aimed and fired in one movement.

But at the very moment the crashing blast left

his pistol and lanced toward Lu Suur, the

sound of it was swallowed by the reverberation

of a titanic explosion.

"The blast!" yelled Curt Newton. "Get behind

the ridge!"

The whole surface of the white plateau

seemed to be heaving skyward under the

explosion of scores of powerful trinite charges.

The moon was rocked by the reverberation,

the rocky ridge swaying sickeningly under

them as Curt Newton dragged the others down

with him behind the crest.

Chunks of rock were hurled high into the air

and crashed down around them. Debris and

splinters of stone rained upon their prone

bodies. Clouds of dust choked them. Then the

shock died away.

Captain Future stumbled up, back to the top

of the ridge. He looked downward, appalled.

A giant crater had been blown in the surface

of the plateau. It was still veiled by shifting

clouds of dust, but its depth was great.

"Lu Suur touched off the blast just before I

killed him! Newton choked. "And now--

look!"

Down in the dark, dust-shrouded depths of

the giant new crater, a strange blue light had

suddenly come into being.

"The Kangas have awakened and are coming

out," Captain Future exclaimed hoarsely.

He whipped around to them. "Joan--all of

you--hurry to the Comet and get away if I

fail!"

He stooped and snatched up the unused trinite

charges that still lay on the ground beside Lu

Suur's dead form.

Then, cradling the little black cases in his left

arm, Newton ran down the side of the low

ridge and across the plateau toward the edge of

the great crater which had been torn by the

blast.

As he ran, Captain Future's free hand was

pulling out of his jacket the instrument he had

shoved there when they left the Comet. It was

the psycho-amplifier, the ancient weapon of

the Denebians against the Kangas.

The instrument he had ordered Simon to build

merely to impress the Roons, was now their

last hope!

Newton jammed the headset on as he ran, its

flat induction coils fitting closely over his

skull, its tungsten rod dangling from the cable.

He was within twenty feet of the crater when

he stopped short, frozen.

"Awful!" he whispered. He was shaken by a

horror and a fear that no man in the universe

had felt for a million years.

Up over the edge of the crater, from the

newly gouged depths, was coming a fat, black,

obscene thing. It was a big, semi-liquid, plastic

mass, that heaved itself painfully over the rim

and was followed by another of its kind.

The Kangas! He was looking at creatures no

human eye had fallen upon for ages. 'They

were looking back at him.

For they had eyes. It was the only

recognizable feature of those insanely plastic

black bodies--the two enormous, pupilless

eyes that fixed solemnly upon Captain Future.

Newton had been desperately raising the rod

of his psycho-amplifier, his thumb fumbling

for the switch-button in its grip. But he did not

complete his gesture of aiming the rod at the

two horrors.

He couldn't complete that gesture! He was

frozen by the super-hypnotic command

projected at him by the two creatures before

him.

He felt as though his brain was congealed to

ice. The impact of infinitely powerful and

infinitely alien minds was holding him like a

child in their power.

HE WAS in the power of the mighty beings

whose race had died out ten thousand centuries

before, the ancient kings of the universe who

had reigned before ever man was, the Old

Ones!

Curt Newton made frantic mental effort to

raise the rod of the psycho-amplifier in his

hand, to thumb its button. He couldn't do it.

Sweat trickled down his brow. He felt his mind

cracking--

"Curt!" came a scream behind him. Joan had

followed him!

That scream distracted the attention of the

two Kangas, briefly. For just a moment, the

hypnotic grip of the two creatures upon his

mind relaxed as they glanced at the girl.

In that fleeting moment, Newton was able to

bring up the rod in his hand to point at them

and to press the button in its grip.

He felt the subtle current of electro-

encephalic vibrations streaming from the rod

toward the two Kangas. The powerful force of

his own mental command, amplified manifold

in intensity by the apparatus he wore, was

being projected at his two nightmare

antagonists.

Terrible contest between two giant, ancient

minds and one man's mechanically amplified

will raged for a few moments in awful silence.

Then the two Kangas began to retreat slowly

back down into the crater, at his unspoken

command. He followed, step by step.

Not his mere weak human will was driving

them, beating down their hypnotic attack. Only

the instrument of ancient Denebian science

which the Denebians of long ago had devised

to conquer these dark horrors, enabled him to

overcome them in this ghastly duel.

The Kangas had retreated down over the edge

of the crater. Curt Newton was at the brink,

above them. His senses reeled as he looked

down into the depths.

For down there in the dusty darkness he

glimpsed the curved upper surface of a giant

dome of metal. It was the crypt in which

Kangas had slept for a million years, and in

which they had now awakened.

There was a round opening in the top of that

metal dome. Dim blue light streamed upward

out of it. It revealed vaguely the interior of the

great crypt--a horror of scores of obscene, fat,

black shapes writhing amid unearthly

machines and objects. Others were already

toilsomely climbing the sides of the crater after

the first two.

Captain Future felt the sudden combined

mental attack of the creatures below beat down

even his artificially amplified resistance. But

as he staggered wildly, he was blindly tossing

into the crater the little sealed charges of trinite

he had held in his left arm.

He glimpsed the little cases falling toward the

open crypt. He reeled backward. Then came a

titan shock and blast as the explosion turned

the interior of the crater into an inferno.

Newton was hurled backward as by a giant

hand.

He regained complete awareness to find Joan

Randall bending over him. Wildly, he

staggered up.

"The Kangas?" he cried hoarsely.

"I think they are dead," she choked. "I think

everything in that crater must be destroyed."

Captain Future stumbled over shattered stone

to the brink of the crater. The whole crater had

been half collapsed by the explosion. It held a

mass of broken rock, twisted metal and

crushed black bodies.

The Kangas were dead, indeed. The last

representatives of the once-mightiest race in

the universe had awakened only to perish.

Newton and Joan, after minutes, stumbled

back across the plateau to the ridge. The others

were there. They had refused to flee. They

were, like Captain Future, too dazed as yet to

rejoice at the miracle that had saved an

unsuspecting universe from the return of the

most dreaded creatures ever to inhabit it.

Philip Carlin plucked Newton's sleeve

urgently. "Ka Thaar is nearly gone. And he

wants to see you."

The Mercurian's youngster's thin face was

drained of color and his eyes were glazing as

he looked up at Captain Future.

"I tried to stop Lu Suur from setting off the

blast," he whispered. "But I couldn't. The

Kangas--?"

"Are dead," Newton told him. "There's no

more danger now. You saved us all, Ka--

saved us from a disaster that would have

brought our whole race into the shadows."

There was a queer gleam in Ka Thaar's fading

glance. "And I fought beside you, didn't I? I

fought shoulder to shoulder with the

Futuremen! Years ago, I used to dream of

that!"

The words dribbled into nothing as his head

rocked back and the emptiness of death came

quietly into his eyes.

JOAN sobbed against Curt Newton's shoulder.

He looked down at the dead youngster, moved

as he had not been for years.

At last, Simon Wright broke the silence.

"Curtis, what about the Roons? They will have

seen the blasting of the plateau as a final omen,

and they'll be boiling with superstitious

excitement now."

Newton nodded wearily. "But we can soon

quiet them. All we need to do is to dig out the

crushed body of one of the Kangas and take it

back with us to show the tribes that the Old

Ones are really dead."

He looked up at the great pink disk of Roo.

"And the danger of rebellion will collapse,

with Lu Suur dead. Harmer can be sent back to

the System under arrest, and a new governor

appointed." He smiled. "And the people in the

System will get their vitron as freely as before,

without ever knowing the price that was paid

to keep it that way."

Joan looked down at Ka Thaar. "Curt, shall

we bury him here? I think he'd like that."

Captain Future, gazing at the dead, strangely

happy young face, nodded slowly. "Yes, I

think he'd like it. There's another thing I want

to do that, I think, would please him." . . .

Two hours later, the Comet rose from the

desolate satellite and sped back up into the sky

toward the great pink planet. Its trail of rocket-

fire faded swiftly, against the darkness, and the

last echo of its rockets died away.

There was silence on the deserted moon,

except for the whisper of the thin wind. The

shattered plateau lay quiet beneath the stars.

But now, near it, there rose in the planet-glow

a high and massive cairn of rocks. Upon the

face of that lonely tomb, the scorching blast of

an atom-gun had deeply engraved a brief

legend.

KA THAAR OF MERCURY

A FUTUREMAN