Captain Future 12 - Planets in Peril (Fall 1942) (17 page)

It turned and came floundering back through the snow, as though groping to find them. Again, Curt loosed his driving little beam at the eye-sockets. This time, it drilled deep into that massive, bony skull. The lumbering horror collapsed in the snow and lay still.

"Howling devils of space!" cried Otho. "What kind of a bad dream
is
that thing?"

Curt was examining the lifeless body.

"It's a non-breathing species. It must use that horn to dig up mineral food-elements. Yet I can't quite understand how such a species could evolve naturally here."

"I think I understand, Kaffr!” exclaimed Lacq excitedly. "My ancestor Zuur made many experiments with new mutant species, in this place. They were part of the research that preceded the creation of the mutant humans, the Cold Ones. Descendants of those artificially developed beasts must still exist here."

"That," commented the Brain keenly, "would explain just why the Cold Ones shun this gorge. It's because of the fierce creatures which have lurked and breeded here ever since then."

"Then there may be a lot more nightmares like that one you killed, or worse hanging around in those caverns," Grag said uneasily.

"We can soon find out if there are," Otho commented acidly.
"Just
bring Eek here out of the ship. If Eek falls stone dead with fright, we'll know there's danger around."

Captain Future, ignoring the robot and android, was shouldering determinedly through the snow toward the nearest of the doors in the cliff. It was that from which the weird monster had so suddenly charged.

Curt and his companions had their weapons tensely ready for action, as they climbed the rock steps and stepped through the aperture. They found themselves in a square passageway hewn by atomic force out of the cliff's solid rock. It was pitch dark in here.

Captain Future's hand-torch flashed a bright beam along the gloomy passage. It disclosed a maze of squared caverns or chambers that long ago had been blasted out of the cliffs interior. The first room they looked into convinced them that they had reached the end of their quest.

"This is Zuur's laboratory, all right!" cried Lacq eagerly. "See, there are instruments and parts of machines."

The room was the wreck of an ancient chemical laboratory. There had been racks of instruments and receptacles, but during the centuries they had been smashed and scattered by prowling beasts.

They went on from one great cavern to another. Here was a battery of what seemed once to have been a series of big atomic-power generators, which had been torn apart by beasts seeking certain mineral elements for food. Another chamber held the ruins of apparatus that had been used for oxygenation. Still other chambers seemed to have been living quarters.

"This is the place of creation of the Cold Ones," breathed Lacq. "In these caverns, after everyone else had abandoned this world, my ancestor labored until he had developed his human volunteer subjects into a mutant race of osseous creatures. Then they turned and killed him."

TREMBLING eagerness was in Lacq's bearing as they searched on through the maze of gloomy chambers. And Curt and the others felt a tension hardly less great.

They sensed themselves near the object of their desperate quest. At any moment, they hoped to come upon the records of the ancient scientist where lay the secret of the Cold Ones, hidden vulnerability.

"Look out! More trouble!" yelled Otho suddenly.

Two weird, wolflike animals had darted suddenly out of a chamber whose door the Futuremen were approaching. Curt fired swiftly, but the incredibly swift animals vanished down an intersecting passageway.

"Nice place, this," grunted Grag. "No wonder even the cursed Cold Ones leave it alone."

From Lacq, who had entered the chamber from which the animals had darted, there came an exultant cry.

"Kaffr, come here! I've found the records!"

They hastened into the rock-hewn room. Lacq, by the light of his torch, was kneeling excitedly over a metal chest. The chest contained more than a dozen small books, whose leaves were of imperishable metal foil covered with faded black writing.

"Zuur's records!" Lacq said hoarsely. "Here are the notes of his experiments. Now if I can locate the notations that cover his creation of the Cold Ones —"

He was frenziedly examining the books, one after another. Curt and the others waited in taut silence.

Minutes passed. Lacq was going through all the books of notes again. Finally he looked up. His face, inside his transparent helmet, wore a dazed expression.

"I can't understand it! These books are numbered, and two of the last books are not here. And they're the ones that cover all Zuur's experiments in creating the Cold Ones!"

"Look again — maybe you overlooked them in your haste," Captain Future urged.

"No. I didn't," Lacq asserted. "They're just not here, Kaffir."

He seemed stupefied by the disastrous realization that the plan of his whole life had met this unexpected, tragic disappointment.

"The devil!" swore Otho. "Those two books have been destroyed by some of those lurking beasts."

"Animals couldn't get into that chest," Curt Newton pointed out sharply. "Animals wouldn't choose books which contain the secret of the Cold Ones' hidden weakness."

Gerdek looked at him, startled.

"You mean that you think the Cold Ones themselves took those two books?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Curt countered. "It must have been done when they first rebelled against Zuur and killed him. That first generation of the Cold Ones would know of his records."

Lacq's face was gray and tragic inside his helmet. His voice was a hoarse, hopeless whisper.

"It must be so. The Cold Ones would not leave here a secret which could be used to destroy them."

He stared into their faces, heartsick.

"I'm sorry that I drew you into this futile quest. It was the dream of my lifetime. But now that there is no hope —"

"What do you mean — no hope?” challenged Captain Future crisply. "The secret isn't here. But that doesn't mean it's beyond reach."

GERDEK stared.

"Surely the Cold Ones who found that dangerous secret would have instantly destroyed it?" he said.

"Would they?" Curt retorted. "I don't believe they would. Just figure it out for yourself. The individual among the Cold Ones who would have the decision as to the disposal of the secret would be their ruler, wouldn't he? What would their ruler decide to do with it?

"Wouldn't he say to himself, 'Here is a secret that gives me absolute power over the whole Cold One race. If ever my rule
is
challenged, I can use this secret to destroy the challengers, to crush any rebellion.

" 'The very fact that my subjects know I possess such a power will keep them from ever getting mutinous. So, I won't destroy this secret but will keep it in a safe place for possible future use.'

"Wouldn't the Cold One ruler reason thus?" Captain Future concluded.

"I believe he would," Gerdek answered slowly. "It fits the whole psychology of that cunning, malign race."

"Then," Curt pointed out, "the records of Zuur which contain the secret were not destroyed. They were passed down as a heritage of power and authority from one Cold One ruler to another, down to the present."

"If that is so," Shiri exclaimed excitedly, "the records must now be in the possession of Mwwr, the present overlord!"

The faint hope that had gleamed on Gerdek's face died.

"Yes, they would be guarded somewhere in Mwwr's citadel, down in the city of Thool. Which means that they might as well be destroyed, as far as we're concerned."

"Don't talk that way," Captain Future said coolly. "If the secret still exists, we've got to get it. The city of Thool isn't so far from here."

Gerdek was aghast.

"You're surely mad if you're thinking of going into Thool after it!”

"Kaffr, we wouldn't have a chance!" Lacq added, appalled. "Hundreds of thousands of Cold Ones swarm in that black metropolis."

"All right, it's too dangerous, so we won't try it," Curt replied with deceptive readiness. "We'll go back home and let Vostol conclude the treaty. That will be the end of the Tarast race, but it'll be the safest course for ourselves."

That crushing rejoinder impelled the three protesting Tarasts to silence. At last Gerdek spoke.

"You are right," he told Curt. "We must make the attempt, no matter how suicidal it may be. We'll go with you."

"Oh-oh, I saw it coming," muttered Otho. "Grag, do you feel like taking a little stroll into Thool?"

"We're not going to 'stroll' in there like idiots," Curt said sharply. "We wouldn't last a minute if we did. I've an idea that might have some possibilities."

He shot a question at Lacq.

"That biggest square black building we glimpsed in the city — is that the palace of the rulers?"

LACQ nodded.

"That's the palace of Mwwr. I've heard the Cold Ones discuss it more than once. It's a great, guarded citadel."

"It would be," Captain Future admitted. "Still, that's where Zuur's secret records would be kept. We have to get into the city and into that citadel without being seen."

"A mere nothing, Chief," Otho assured him. "I'll do it with my magic wand, in a flash."

"Shut up," Curt told him. "And listen: That citadel stands on the edge of the ancient river bed that runs through the city. The river bed is filled with deep snow, like this gorge of which it's a continuation.

"The snow in it should be almost everywhere over our heads. So I propose that we go down this gorge of the ancient river and right into the city, by walking under the surface of the snow."

"Say, that
is
an idea," Otho admitted. "But supposing we get into the city that way, what then?"

"We'll take tools to dig our way into the citadel of Mwwr through the foundation walls, beneath the snow," Curt answered. "Once inside the citadel walls, we must somehow search out the secret records."

"I feel that 'somehow' covers a lot of grief for poor old Grag," rumbled the robot forebodingly.

Lacq and Gerdek were enthusiastic. The revulsion from absolute despair to new hope had sent their confidence soaring.

"It's a precarious scheme of action," the Brain commented dourly to Captain Future. "What about the
Comet?

"You'll have to stay to guard it, Simon. You couldn't make much progress under the snow, anyway. Shiri will stay with you. I want you to sink the ship in deep snow, so passing Cold One ships won't sight it down here."

The Brain objected acidly to remaining behind, and Shiri was even more strenuous in her resistance. But Curt's firmness prevailed.

Otho and Grag had already taken from the
Comet
the compact atomic tools which Curt judged necessary for their scheme. Now, after a word of farewell, the party started southward through the snow.

The snow everywhere in the gorge was up to Curt's neck, and in long stretches it was completely over his head. And there was nothing soft or yielding about this snow, which was partly composed of crystals of frozen air.

"You lead the way, Grag," Captain Future ordered. "You're the only one with strength enough to break trail for the rest."

"Yes, Grag, put that strong back of yours to work for a change," flipped Otho. "I might even let you carry me when I get tired."

Grag ignored the remark as he started breaking the way. His mighty metal body plowed through the deep white drifts, step after step, like a tireless machine. The four others, in their space-suits, followed.

The snow was soon over even Grag's head, for the ancient river bed became deeper as they moved southward. They now marched weirdly beneath the surface of the white expanse. There was nothing for Captain Future to see except the blank whiteness around and above them, and the broad metal back of Grag ahead.

They were, Curt knew, quite invisible now to any space-sleds that might cross the sky overhead. Hour after hour, they tramped on through the tunnel forced by the robot leader. Curt's compass guided them, and in any case there was no danger of their losing the way, for the river bed ran right to the distant city.

"This is tough going, Chief," complained Otho when they stopped for the fourth time to rest.

"You
think it's tough going?" said Grag wrathfully. "How would you like to lead the way for a while?"

"I think we must be near the city by now," Captain Future cut in thoughtfully. "Grag, lift me up so my head is out of the snow and I'll see."

Grag obeyed, lifting Curt to stand on his metal shoulders. Curt's helmet protruded from the surface of the snow. Instantly he drew his head back down in a sharp recoil. And he muttered a swift warning to the others.

"We're already inside the city!"

Curt raised his head more carefully until his eyes were above the white surface. He looked around with mixed interest and trepidation. They were well within the city of Thool, all right. Its black, square structures loomed on both sides of the deep river bed in whose snow Captain Future and his comrades were concealed.

The alien metropolis was weird in the eternal dusk. The lights that shone in its streets only accentuated the starless gloom. Space-sleds were taking off from a big spaceport nearby. And Curt Newton could descry numbers of the hideous osseous inhabitants as they came and went across black bridges that spanned this deep river of snow.

A HALF mile southward through the city loomed the citadel of the Cold One kings, a titanic black bulk dominating Thool like a thundercloud. Captain Future keenly estimated its distance before lowering himself back down into the snow.

"We're almost to the place," he told them. "Move more slowly now, Grag. We mustn't make any disturbance on the surface that would give away our presence."

They were all strung up with suspense as they followed Grag onward beneath the white blanket. At Curt's direction, the robot veered to the eastern side of the river bed. The palace was on that side.

Curt estimated that they had reached the citadel.