Captain Future 09 - Quest Beyond the Stars (Winter 1942) (18 page)

“The city of the Watchers!” breathed Otho. “It must be that. But there is no one there.”

“The Watchers must long ago have passed away, as the Korians guessed,” muttered the Brain. “This artificial world and city of theirs would endure unchanged for indefinite ages.”

“I see a ship!” cried old Ber Del. “A Korian ship!”

Captain Future had seen the craft at the same moment. It was parked on the glassy blue plain, just outside the wall of the city.

“That’s Larstan’s cruiser,” Curt said rapidly. “We’re going to jump them at once. Be ready to move when I land.”

Curt was counting on a surprise attack. He sent the
Comet
screaming down on a dizzy slant for a speed landing that almost no other pilot would have dared attempt. The ship of the Futuremen hit the blue, glassy plain on flaming keel-rockets, skidded Wildly over the smooth surface and caromed into the side of the parked coppery cruiser with hard impact.

“Get them before they recover from that!” Curt Newton yelled, scrambling up and drawing his proton-pistol as he plunged outside.

The Futuremen followed hastily, all but the Brain slipping and staggering on the polished blue glass surface. The door of the parked Korian cruiser had been left open to the soft warm air. The Futuremen and star rovers charged through it into the enemy ship.

FOUR green warriors had been left to guard the ship. But the unexpected impact of the
Comet
against their craft had hurled them about inside the main cabin, and they picked themselves up to face the nerve-shattering sight of the charging Futuremen and their allies.

“The enemy strangers!” yelped the Korian captain. “Kill them!”

He and one of the other men raised their fire-rods. But Otho and Hol Jor were already charging, the Antarian roaring his battle yell. They knocked the two resisting men from their feet before they could act.

“Don’t kill them!” Curt yelled to the battle-mad red star rover and equally fierce android. “They’re surrendering!”

Appalled by the overwhelming surprise, the Korians were dropping their weapons and raising their hands. In a few moments they were manacled beyond possibility of escape to stanchions of their ship.

“Where’s Larstan and the rest of the crew?” Curt demanded then.

A scared green captive stammered answer. “The king and the other twelve of our crew are in that strange city. They have been in there for many hours. We were left to guard the ship.”

Curt swung to his followers, his eyes brilliant with purpose. “We’re going in — all except Simon, who can’t be of much help in a fight. For it’s going to be a fight in there — a finish fight with Larstan.”

Hol Jor brandished his atom pistol in the air.

“Good!” cried the Antarian. “A fight for the greatest prize in the whole universe!”

They hastened out of the ship and started on a run across the smooth blue plain toward the wall of the city. Futuremen and star-rovers were following Captain Future toward the citadel of cosmic power, eager for the battle that must soon climax an age-old quest. Curt Newton, as he led his variegated followers, became aware that the Brain was gliding beside him.

“Don’t tell
me
to stay behind,” warned Simon Wright. “I’d risk life itself to get inside this alien city,”

They hurried toward the gate of the high, translucent wall. It was a broad portal, whose tall leaves were opened inward. Inside, Captain Future and the others stopped involuntarily. Facing them on either side of the entrance towered two incredible statues. They were not statues of men or of any manlike being. They were black, shapeless masses of unidentifiable substance. In the front of each amorphous figure, two great, round yellow eyes without pupils stared solemnly at the adventurers. Curt’s voice was a whisper.

“If those are statues of the Watchers, then the Watchers were indeed alien to our universe.”

“They were apparently liquid of body,” muttered the Brain. “No ordinary evolution could produce intelligent creatures like that.”

They started forward between the two weird statues. An unnerving thing happened. A solemn voice seemed to speak inside their minds.

“Strangers who come at last to enter our ancient city, be warned!”

CURT started violently, and the others recoiled. But after a moment, the explanation came to Captain Future.

“It’s some mechanism that automatically projects a recorded telepathic message, when you come within its aura,” he said hoarsely.

“We, the last of the race whom you call the Watchers, are natives of a different universe. We came here to study this Birthplace of Matter of your universe. But we did not create this Birthplace! No living beings could do that, for this pulsing heart of your universe was created by the Force that created the universe itself. We merely tapped its wondrous powers and thus brought into being this world and city and devised the instruments that embody the secret. We leave one of those instruments for you to possess and utilize, believing that when you attain sufficient knowledge to reach this place, you will be too wise to misuse the power. For not lightly may the cosmic secrets of creation be utilized for selfish ends. Should you attempt that, you may well destroy yourselves and all your race!”

The solemn thought-message ceased to beat into the minds of Curt Newton and the others as they hastily moved on between the statues.

“Warning of the Watchers!” cried Ber Del shakenly, looking wildly back at the strange statues. “It’s weird frightening —”

“It didn’t frighten Larstan and his men,” rapped Curt, looking feverishly around. “They must be somewhere here.”

“The big citadel!” exclaimed Otho, pointing at the great spire that towered from the center of the city. “That might be where the Watchers left their instrument, and if so —”

“Larstan would be there now!” Curt finished. “Come on!”

They started on a run through the streets, between the fairylike translucent towers that glistened beneath the flaming sky like transfixed dream palaces. They entered the street leading to the great citadel.
Flash!
The fire-streak struck like a bolt of lightning from behind a translucent building and just grazed Otho as he leaped wildly.

“Take cover!” Curt yelled, his proton-pistol leaping into his hand. “Larstan’s men have set an ambush for us!”

Futuremen and star rovers dived behind corners of adjacent buildings. Criss-cross of proton beams and fire-bolts wove a pattern of death through the street as the Korians and Curt’s followers swiftly shot at each exposed head.

“We’ve got to get on!” Curt exclaimed. “They’re holding us up here while Larstan searches for the secret of the Watchers.”

He made a movement to charge forward, in his superhuman anxiety. But Grag held him back.

“No, chief!” boomed the robot. They’d blast you down in a second — they’re only waiting now for you to show yourself.”

“Devils of Antares — can’t we find some way to get around them and take them from behind?” raved Hol Jor furiously.

There seemed no way. The long street that had followed was without cross-streets, was merely a straight avenue leading to the central citadel.

“Fiends of Pluto, I think I see a way!” Otho hissed. “That window! If I could get through the building —”

THE window of the tower behind which they crouched was twenty feet over their heads. Yet Otho, doubling himself and then springing upward with inconceivable agility, reached it. He disappeared inside the translucent building.

“Be ready to make a frontal rush at them when Otho surprises them!” Curt warned the others, gripping his weapon.

A few moments dragged by like eternities. Then they heard a crackle of fire-rods, and Otho’s high, fierce battle yell from beyond the buildings.

“Now!” Curt yelled, plunging out and up the street.

The others were only a shade less swift than he, Grag booming out a deafening shout, Hol Jor’s eyes blazing, all of them triggering as they ran at the Korians ahead. The Korians were confused, some of them facing Curt’s party, others firing at Otho who was turning his proton beam on them from behind the other angle of the building. It became a mad whirl of fighting men and blazing streaks of death. Three of the dozen Korians had dropped, and Ki Illok had cried out and fallen upon one wounded knee, in the first moment.

“The citadel, lad!” came the Brain’s high cry to Curt. “Larstan — in there —”

“Go on, chief!” cried Grag, who had gripped one of the green men in great metal hands. “We’ll hold these devils off!”

Captain Future plunged through the melee, triggering his proton at Korians who fiercely sought to bar his way, fighting toward the entrance of the towering citadel. He burst through the entrance of the building, closely followed by the Brain. In one quick glimpse, Curt got an impression of the awesome interior of this shrine of the Watchers. A vast, cathedrallike room of circular cross section, its translucent white walls soared in lofty curves up into dim immensity. And, like the altar of a cathedral, was the massive oblong mechanism at the center of this great fane. Upon its top were banks of hundreds of small keys, and from its face protruded a hundred nozzle-like spouts.

Larstan was crouched over this mechanism. The Korian king’s handsome green face was tigerish as he looked up at Curt’s entrance.

“Somehow I
knew
you would get here, devil stranger!” snarled the Korian ruler. “But you’ll never —”

Curt shot! The proton beam from his pistol leaped forward like a lance of light — but was stopped by a barrier ten feet away. Larstan’s fingers had pressed down certain keys of the mechanism over which he crouched in the instant before Curt fired. The oblong machine had vibrated strongly, and from its nozzles had spurted a cloud of shining particles that instantaneously crystallized into a high wall of transparent glassy substance that completely surrounded and imprisoned Captain Future and the Brain. Curt dashed forward with a cry and battered with the butt of his pistol against the glassy wall. The thin substance utterly resisted his blows. From beyond it, Larstan’s triumphant laugh sounded.

“It’s no use,” mocked the Korian king. “That wall around you is real, solid matter, even though I just created it out of
nothing!”

Larstan’s eyes flamed with triumph. “This instrument of the Watchers embodies the long-sought secret of the Birthplace, the secret of matter-creation. I’ve been studying it for hours, with the aid of the directions left by the Watchers in an easily deciphered code. I’ve mastered its operation.” The Korian king seemed intoxicated with triumph over his adversary. His whole bearing was one of mad exaltation. “I’m going to kill you, Future! But to make your death more bitter, I’ll first prove to you how I can use this wondrous instrument for conquest of all the worlds inside the cloud. Watch!”

Larstan swiftly pressed other keys of the oblong machine. From the spouts on its face, another shining cloud spurted.

IT CRYSTALLIZED into a block of solid gold, just outside the transparent wall that imprisoned Curt and Simon. Again the Korian touched the keys. This time the cloud formed a heavy-duty, perfect fire-rod mounted on a swivel. Again, the machine operated instantaneously brought into being a miniature space-ship.

“You see, Captain Future?” flared Larstan’s triumphant voice. “With this creator I can produce weapons in limitless quantities!”

“Lad, we’ve lost!” came the Brain’s hopeless whisper. “The secret — in Larstan’s hands —”

“Get behind me, Simon,” gritted Curt. “I’m going to try to break out of here.”

“Now you’re going to die, Future,” came the Korian’s snarl. “I need only —”

Curt acted. He had noticed that his proton beam had faintly cracked the glassy wall around them. So he thumbed the intensity-ratchet to the highest notch and loosed the intensified beam at the slight crack. The blinding splash of the thin ray widened the crack! Curt instantly flung himself with all his force at that part of the wall.

“No,
that
won’t work!” cried Larstan, his hands darting over the keys of the creator.

Captain Future’s hurtling figure crashed through the cracked wall. But even as he did so, the creator-machine was spurting forth another shining cloud. This cloud crystallized instantly into a similar but much thicker wall of transparent substance that had a larger diameter. Its larger circle again held Curt and Simon prisoners. Captain Future ripped at this new barrier with his proton beam. But the beam could make no impression on this much thicker wall. Larstan’s face was livid.

“You thought you’d best me at the last! You have one moment to live. I’m going to create a huge block of metal that will crush you both beneath it!” His hands hovered over the banks of keys with deadly purpose.

Simon’s rasping voice came calmly to Curt. “I think this is goodbye, lad.”

“No!” panted Captain Future. “Larstan made a slip! We’ve still got a chance —”

Near him were the gold block and miniature space-ship and heavy fire-rod that Larstan had created in boasting demonstration of his power. They were
inside
this new, larger-diameter wall. Curt Newton jumped to the fire-rod. It was apparently as perfect as though created by human hands. He swung it toward the section of the thick glassy wall facing Larstan. Larstan glimpsed his movement. The Korian’s eyes flashed wildly, and his hands clawed down toward the keys of the creator. But Curt triggered the heavy fire-rod in the same second. Blasting flare of energy exploded inside their prison, the shock hurling Captain Future violently backward. Stunned and groggy, he staggered to his feet, drawing his own proton pistol.