Captain Future 06 - Star Trail to Glory (Spring 1941) (10 page)

Curt Newton landed his borrowed rocket-flier in the park and strode into the massive building. He carried the Brain's square case in his hand, to avoid arousing attention. The attendants inside the entrance thought it was merely some complicated recording apparatus.

In the main rotunda Captain Future looked around curiously. From this hushed, softly lit silvery hall radiated long corridors. Along some of them were the booths used in consulting stereo-books. Along others were the flat, narrow metal cases of the "books" themselves, stacked on endless tiers of shelves. These quiet shelves were the repository of millions of records of heroism and daring and endurance, of long-forgotten battles and epic feats on faraway worlds.

Curt saw that even at "night" the library was busy. Scholars from almost every world were clustered at the main desk, waiting for the records they had requested. Captain Future got quietly into line. An aged Martian savant ahead of him, peering through thick-lensed spectacles, was making a shrill request of the young Mercurian librarian.

"I want all the stereo-records you have on the Jovian space voyages to Mars during the eighty-eighth century."

The librarian consulted a catalogue and pressed buttons. The flat metal cases popped up on the desk, mechanically conveyed. An eager young Venusian was just in front of Captain Future.

"Do you have the material the late Sus Urgal gathered for his Legends of the Solar System? I'm hoping to expand his work."

"I'd like all material on the
Star Streak
mystery," Curt asked quietly. "Do you have a stereo-record on that?"

"I think so," said the librarian, consulting his catalogue. "Yes, here it is."

He touched his buttons, and a flat metal case popped up.

CURT took the case, but asked another question:

"Could you tell me if this particular record has been requested lately, and by whom?"

The librarian consulted a file.

"It was asked for almost a year ago, the first time in years. We sent it and some other material out to the Rissman Space Ship Company, at their request."

Captain Future's eyes narrowed a trifle as he moved away, holding the stereo-book in one hand, and the Brain's case in the other.

"So Rissman consulted this record a year ago. That's interesting."

Curt entered one of the projection-booths used for the stereo-books. It was a tiny oblong room with a slot in one wall that was just as large as the standardized book he held. He closed the door of the booth and slipped the stereo-book case into the slot. Automatically the lights in the booth went out.

There was a whirring sound, then a startlingly lifelike scene sprang into being at the other end of the booth. The stereo-book was reproducing the scene taken long ago by the stereoscopic sound-cameras.

"There it is, lad," muttered the Brain. "The
Star Streak —"

"Listen!" Captain Future interrupted.

The scene before them was a vision of a New York spaceport on Earth, but it was obviously many years ago. The space ships parked on the field were obsolete, clumsy, and the dress of the people who crowded around the field was grotesquely old-fashioned. A bulging ship of considerable size towered up in the front of the scene. On its bow was the name
Star Streak.
In front of it was a small crowd of men and women and machines. A man stepped out to speak earnestly into the stereoscopic cameras.

"Doctor Webster Kelso, leader of the Pluto expedition, will say a few words before the take-off."

Doctor Kelso was an elderly Earthman with gray hair and a thin, kindly dreamer's face. He was smiling eagerly as he spoke.

"My friends, this is a great day for me. I have long dreamed of bringing the first colony to Pluto. Now my fifty men and women associates are accompanying me to attempt that great feat. I believe we shall succeed in spite of the warnings we have received that Plutonian conditions are so frigid and inimical that we shall not be able to establish a colony. But we are prepared for that. We are taking with us two hundred semi-intelligent machines which I have built for this purpose. They are intelligent enough to obey orders implicitly, and they possess unlimited strength and endurance, as you will see."

Doctor Kelso turned and raised his voice in a command. From the little throng behind him marched a mass of weird metal figures. Their bodies were mere skeletons of girders, with complex mechanical internal organs, cubical heads, and girder limbs.

"They're the same!" Curt Newton whispered sharply. "Identical with the creatures we fought at the Venus Base!"

"No doubt of it, lad," rasped the Brain.

Doctor Webster Kelso was speaking on, in the stereo-picture.

"We have also been warned that the Plutonian natives are hostile and will attack us. But we're prepared for that, too. I am taking with me certain secret weapons of my own invention that will enable me to overpower any natives who attack us, without permanently injuring them."

"Hear that, Simon?" exclaimed Captain Future. "One of those could be the mysterious weapon the machine men are using on the Rocketeers."

"And now farewell, my friends," Doctor Kelso was calling across the years from the living picture. "We go to achieve a great ambition!"

THE
Star Streak
blasted off with a roar of rocket-tubes. Then the whole vivid scene vanished and was replaced by the stereo-picture of an official Earthman historian.

"The
Star Streak
was never seen again," he said. "For some weeks, as it forged out toward Pluto, its televisor calls came in regularly to report its progress and position in space."

He gave a record of each of the calls, and Captain Future quickly jotted down each date and position.

"The last call came when the
Star Streak
was near the orbit of Saturn. The call was a weak, broken one. It said only: 'Mutiny — the machines tried — disaster — ' No further message was ever received. It seems indubitable that an attempted mutiny by Kelso's intelligent machines caused the wrecking of the ship. It was supposed the disabled
Star Streak
must have drifted to Saturn or one of its moons, the only worlds in that sector of space. Though Saturn and all its moons were searched, however, the ship was never found. Its fate remains a mystery."

When the stereo-record concluded, the lights came on automatically.

"We're going back to the
Comet
and find out what did become of the
Star Streak,
if we can," Captain Future declared thoughtfully. "Simon, that old mystery holds the key to this space ship thieving. The machine men and the mystery weapon they use both came from Kelso's ship."

Returning to the
Comet,
Captain Future and the Brain began an intent, intricate calculation. They knew the position of the
Star Streak
and the time when disaster had struck it. They checked back on the position of all celestial bodies in the System at that time.

"Saturn was the only world it could have drifted to," rasped the Brain finally. "And they searched Saturn without finding a trace of it."

"Wait, look at this!" Curt interrupted excitedly. "According to our figures, Kansu's Comet was near that position in space at that date. And if I remember right, Kansu's Comet is believed to have a solid nucleus."

"I'll soon find out from our comet-file, Chief!" Otho exclaimed. The android hastily consulted the exhaustive record. "That's right. Kansu's Comet is now known to have a nucleus of considerable mass."

"They didn't know that then, so they didn't think of the comet," Curt pointed out. "But it was near that position in space. If disaster disabled the
Star Streak,
the ship must have drifted onto the nucleus of that comet."

"Say, that's swell figurin', Cap'n Future!" admired Ezra Gurney.

"Someone else figured it out, too," Curt rapped out. "That someone visited the solid nucleus and secured the machine men and Kelso's secret weapon. We've got to find out who visited that nucleus recently."

Simon checked his record.

"Kansu's Comet is beyond Jupiter now."

"Let me go out there and find out!" Otho asked Curt eagerly. "I can get to that nucleus and sleuth out whoever has been there."

"You and Grag can both go in the
Comet,"
Captain Future decided. "Use every means of scientific investigation to learn who was there hunting for the
Star Streak
wreck. It's one angle we're going to work on. Joan, I want you to tackle another angle. Have Planet Police agents shadow all those space ship magnates. Whichever one's mixed up with the hijacking ring must contact his accomplices some time. And you, Ezra. Try to find out what Durl Cruh knew about machine men that caused him to be murdered. Cruh knew something, all right. Try to learn what.

"I'm going to work still another angle. The space ships are being stolen from the Rocketeers who test them. Well, I'm going to get into a disguise and become a brash young Rocketeer, hoping that the machine men will try to steal a ship I'm testing. I'll have scientific defenses set up to shield me from their mysterious weapon, whatever it is. And I may be able to turn the tables on them, and make them lead me right to their hidden base!"

I'm only a lonely spaceman

With no world to call my home.

I've seen all moons and planets

But I still just like to roam.

CRAG was singing as he sat at the controls of the
Comet.
The great robot's voice rose in a deafening bellow. It did not seem to disturb little Eek, who was perched on his knee, but Otho was holding his hands tightly over his ears. The ship of the Futuremen was flying out through space, well beyond the orbit of Jupiter. Saturn was a yellow blob over on the left. Straight ahead glowed a misty green speck — Kansu's Comet.

"Gods of Space!" swore Otho as Grag finished. "Next time you intend to sing, please let me know. I'll get into a space-suit and get outside the ship till it's over."

"Eek likes my singing," Grag defended, patting the moon-pup.

"Sure, Eek hasn't got any hearing," Otho said ironically.

"I know, but his telepathic sense gets the idea of the song," Grag declared. "He's very sensitive that way."

"Sensitive?" snorted Otho. "That moon-pup is the biggest coward alive, if that's what you mean by sensitive. Now my Oog — " Otho stopped, remembering something. "Say did I show you the new trick I taught Oog?"

"I'm not interested in Oog and his silly tricks."

"You'll like this one," Otho promised. "Come here, Oog." The fat little meteor-mimic animal came ambling into the control room obediently. Otho picked him up. "Show us what Grag reminds you of."

Oog's queer body shifted shape, its tissues melting and flowing together. He was suddenly a perfect imitation of an ancient tin can, Otho shouted with laughter. But Grag looked sourly at him.

"You would insult me," boomed the robot, "just when I was planning to do something for you."

"What was it?" Otho demanded skeptically.

"It was to be a surprise. I haven't had time to work on it yet. I meant it as a present for you."

Otho looked a little uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry." Then he asked eagerly: "What is this present you're planning?"

"You can help me make it. I'll put on the automatic pilot. We won't be near Kansu's Comet for hours."

Setting the automatic pilot, Grag rose and stalked back into the laboratory. Otho followed hopefully. Grag looked around thoughtfully, then chose a long copper trough from the laboratory equipment. He put it on the table.

"First thing I need is some mud — lots of mud."

Otho looked surprised.

"Mud? There's none here. How would a solution of ordinary aluminum and silicon salts do?"

"That'll make a pretty fair mud," Grag conceded. The black mass was mixed and poured into the trough. "Now I want some rubber."

"I don't see what you want that for," Otho objected.

"Who's making this for you, anyway?"

"All right, Grag," Otho said hastily. "Here's the rubber."

"Mix it with the mud," Grag ordered majestically. Otho did so. "Now I'll need some dirty old oil. The dirtier, the better."

"Mud, rubber, dirty old oil?" cried Otho. "Say, what the devil are you making, anyway?"

"Why, I'm making another android just like you, to keep you company," Grag replied blandly.

WITH an explosive curse, Otho snatched up the trough and flung it at him.

But Grag stood rocking with bellowing mirth.

"I got you that time, Otho!" he boomed. "I'll never forget you honeying me along to get a nice present."

"Laugh, you fugitive from a chain-belt!" Otho said bitterly. "It serves me right for trying to be nice. I only hope I'll have a chance to shove you into a pit or something when we reach Kansu's Comet."

Kansu's Comet grew steadily in apparent size as the teardrop ship flashed on. The great green sphere of its coma glowed like a misty sun, concealing the solid nucleus within. There was no tail, for not until the comet approached the Sun would light-pressure force back particles from the coma to form a tail.