Captain Future #3: Captain Future's Challenge E-Book

Edmond Hamilton

• Herausgeber: Thrilling
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

Striking terror on four worlds, a mysterious raider throttles interplanetary commerce—and Earth summons Curtis Newton, the Wizard of Science, and his trio of Futuremen to combat this sinister menace…. The Captain Future saga follows the super-science pulp hero Curt Newton, along with his companions, The Futuremen: Grag the giant robot, Otho the android, and Simon Wright the living brain in a box. Together, they travel the solar system in series of classic pulp adventures, many of which written by the author of The Legion of Super-Heroes, Edmond Hamilton.

Leseprobe

Captain Future's Challenge

Captain Future book #3

by

Edmond Hamilton

Striking Terror on Four Worlds, a Mysterious Raider Throttles Interplanetary Commerce—and Earth Summons Curtis Newton, the Wizard of Science, and His Trio of Futuremen to Combat this Sinister Menace….

Thrilling

Copyright Information

“Captain Future's Challenge” was originally published in 1940. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Chapter I

Zero Hour

THE man who sat before a powerful televisor transmitter in the dim, cubbylike room might have been an Earthman. Or he might have been a Martian, or a Jovian, or any other planetary native. It was impossible to tell which.

For his whole body was concealed by a black space-suit. Even the glassite helmet of his suit had been painted black, except for the eyeholes. The man inside it could see, but he could not be seen.

He reached toward the towering panel of the big televisor and tuned to a secret wavelength. Generators built up to a snarling, angry whine. Then he spoke into the microphone below the visi-screen. “The Wrecker calling Ship One!” he hissed.

On the visi-screen appeared the interior of a small spaceship. Then appeared the face of the spaceship’s commander, a white-skinned, dark-haired young Venusian. His eyes stared strangely at the screen, hollow-eyed, and there was a stiff, awkward jerkiness to his speech as he spoke.

“Ship One reporting, sir.”

“You are at the designated position?” demanded the hissing voice of the man who called himself the Wrecker.

“Yes, sir, we are lying off Mercury now.”

“Good—you will strike at exactly ten o’clock, solar time.”

The Wrecker pushed another button. “Ship Two!”

The interior of another spaceship flashed into the screen. Its commander was a lanky, gray-skinned Neptunian, but he had the same hollowness of eye and uncanny stiffness of speech as the Venusian.

“Ship Two reporting, sir,” the Saturnian said. “We are progressing toward Mars on schedule.”

“Strike at exactly ten, solar time,” ordered the Wrecker’s sibilant voice.

Another button was pressed. “Ship Three!”

A hulking Earthman, as oddly strange in appearance as the other two ship-commanders, reported from the third ship. “Ship Three off Saturn, sir. We are ready to descend and blast the stockade at any moment.”

“Blast at ten, solar time,” the Wrecker ordered.

Then the black-veiled figure of mystery touched the switch that called across the Solar System to a fourth spaceship.

A big green Jovian, his large, circular dark eyes hollowly solemn, answered in thick, jerky accents from the fourth craft. “Ship Four, sir. We are approaching Earth’s Moon.”

The Wrecker’s dark figure tensed.

“Your mission is the most perilous of all,” he told the Jovian. “Remember, if you make one slip, you’ll fail to get this man. He must be captured or he’ll ruin our whole plan. Ten o’clock solar time is the zero hour,” rasped the Wrecker. “Attack at exactly that time.”

The Wrecker touched a larger switch. The visi-screen went dark, and the snarling whine of generators sank and died. The dark-veiled figure of mystery hunched, brooding.

“The plan can’t fail, now,” he told himself. “The one man who might spoil it will be in our power. The System, reeling under this blow, will call to him for help as usual. But he won’t answer this time. Nobody will answer.”

The Wrecker’s dark form stiffened.

“Gravium! The key to the whole Systems’ life—and that key will soon be in my hands! Only forty minutes to zero hour—”

ZERO hour….

The Hot Side of the planet Mercury sizzled under the scorching heat of the sun that seemed to fill half the brassy sky. That flaming orb, only thirty-six million miles away, kept this side of the planet at a temperature above the melting point of most metals!

Yet there were men at one spot in this hottest place in the nine worlds. Upon the seared, blackened rock-plain of the Hot Side stood the clustered smelters, barracks, offices and open rock workings of one of the System’s five gravium mine-companies.

This mine was protected from the fearful heat that otherwise would instantly slay all here. From a towering radiator-mechanism arched a domelike “halo” of blue force, a screen of vibrations that barred terrific solar radiance.

A young Mercurian metallurgist came out of the laboratories and glanced up at the colossal orb flaming overhead. He speculated, for the thousandth time, what would happen if the “halo” failed and the solar heat penetrated.

“Thank the gods of space the ‘halo’ radiator is failure-proof,” he told himself. “Otherwise there’d be no mine here. Even as it is, gravium is the only thing that would draw men to this place.”

Gravium! The most precious and important metal in the Solar System! For upon gravium depended all the interplanetary trade and traffic of the nine worlds. Without gravium there would be no gravitation equalizers, no interplanetary flight.

The young Mercurian glanced at his watch. “Ten o’clock, sun time! I’d better be getting back to work—” He stiffened suddenly.

A black space-cruiser was diving down out of the brassy sky. It roared over the “halo”—shrouded mine, and a small black object dropped from the cruiser toward the “halo” radiator.

Next moment, with a roar and flash of white fire, the big radiator mechanism flew to fragments.

“An atomic bomb!” yelled the Mercurian. “This means death for—”

Even as he realized the imminence of death, he died. The fearful solar heat, striking the little mine-settlement as its screen of protective vibrations was destroyed, reduced that young Mercurian’s body to a charred black cinder instantaneously.

Within ten minutes, every trace of the Mercury gravium mines and its workers had been completely destroyed by the terrific solar heat.

IT WAS night in the equatorial desert of Mars. The stars shone brilliantly in the chill, clear air, and the two meteorlike moons cometing across the heavens shed a pale radiance. That light illuminated the busy mine of the Mars Gravium Company. For here on Mars, too, was mined a small quantity of the precious gravium that made interplanetary travel possible.

Two Martian laborers came out of a tunnel for a breath of air. Red-skinned men with bold heads and big-chested figures, they breathed in the chill night air gratefully. It lacked two minutes of ten o’clock, solar time—

“What’s that up there, Arraj?” the younger Martian asked, pointing up.

The older man looked. Up there against the superbly blazing Milky Way, a tiny black spot was growing.

“Looks like a meteor coming this way,” he said quickly. “But it must be a big one—”

“Look, Arraj—it is a meteor!” cried the younger Martian excitedly. “And there’s a ship guiding it!”

The two stared for a moment at the incredible spectacle. That expanding black spot was clearly a giant meteor, rushing now at tremendous speed toward Mars. And close beside the booming meteor rushed a dark spaceship, playing rays upon the great mass. The ship was propelling the meteor toward Mars—

“That meteor’s going to strike here!” yelled the young Martian wildly. “That ship’s deliberately guiding it to hit the mines here—”

The great meteor was rushing straight down toward them, looming larger and larger. The ship that had guided it until the last moment was now rocketing back out to space.

The younger of the two Martians tried to scream an alarm as the monstrous mass darted down. He could utter no sound; paralysis gripped him.

Then the giant meteor struck. The concussion shook the lonely Martian desert for leagues. And when the quaking shudder of the planet ceased, the gravium mines had—disappeared. The impact of the great meteor had made that whole region a fusing, superheated wreck of shattered rock.

DAWN was breaking over the southern part of Saturn. Low on the northern horizon, over the great plains which cover most of this giant, prairie-world, the stupendous arc of the Rings glittered less brightly against the star-studded sky.

Down low in one of the southern valleys of Saturn, the rising Sun gleamed off the white cement buildings and raw rock pits of the gravium workings. For here, too, was mined some of the precious gravium vital to the System. Around the whole gravium mine towered a stockade of atomic flame. Atomic projectors set close together formed a ring whose unceasing jets of flame alone kept out the gray, creeping monsters that could be glimpsed outside.

Those gray, great crawling things were the dreaded Silicae—strange beings composed of inorganic compounds with a siliceous base. Like all siliceous life, they ate metal, and would attack any place to satisfy their avid craving. The exposed veins of gravium in the workings, the metal of the machines here, were a constant lure to the Silicae. Always, they hungrily circled the stockade of flame.

The tall, blue-skinned Saturnian engineer who came out of his cabin, rubbing sleep from his eyes, stared distastefully at the crawling gray monsters visible outside the flame-fence.

“Damned vermin,” he muttered disgustedly. “I’m tired looking at them. What I need are some bright lights and pretty girls.”

It was ten o’clock Solar Time. The engineer started toward the barracks to rouse his men for the day-shift. Suddenly he stopped and peered upward.

“What the devil—”

A black spaceship was diving toward the gravium mines. From it darted a powerful atom-beam that struck and demolished the atomic projectors of a whole sector of the stockade. That whole part of the flame-fence died. The ship darted up and away with a thunder of rocket-tubes. The Saturnian engineer, his face ghastly, pitched toward the alarm-bell control.

“All out—the stockade’s broken!” he yelled, as he sent the alarms ringing.

Half-awakened men poured out of the buildings. But already, through the gap in the flame-fence, a horde of the Silicae was pouring!

Two hours later, the monstrous Silicae flowed leisurely away. The cement buildings remained, and the broken bodies of dead men. But every trace of metal was gone, eaten by the monsters. The machinery, the tools, the scraps of metal on the persons of the men, and even the gravium in the open workings—all had been ingested by the strange creatures. The Saturnian gravium source had been wiped out.

ZERO hour….

Brilliant sunlight bathed the side of the moon that faced Earth. In the flood of light, the lunar peaks and craters rose stark and bare, the lunar plains stretched in deathly desolation. At only one place was there movement on this forbidding, barren globe.

That place was in the mighty mountain-ring of Tycho crater. A black spaceship had landed stealthily in the jagged peaks of the crater. A score of space-suited men, each wearing on his breast his flat gravitation-equalizer, were cautiously moving out onto the flat, white rock plain of the great crater.

The leader, a big Jovian whose dark eyes looked oddly hollow and strange inside his glassite helmet, stopped suddenly and pointed toward a big glassite window set in the crater-plain ahead.

“That’s the place!” muttered the Jovian to his men on his suit-phone. “That’s where they live—Captain Future and the Futuremen!”

Captain Future, most redoubtable and mysterious adventurer in the System, the champion of law and the foe of crime, the legendary planeteer who had blazed a fighting trail across space!

And the Futuremen, the three awesome, unhuman aides of the great adventurer, who dwelt with him on this frigid world!

“Do we attack at once?” asked one of the men.

“No, the Wrecker said to wait until the Futuremen have gone on their regular trip to some laboratory they have on the other side,” the Jovian said. “There they go now! Get down, all of you!”

Out of an underground hangar, a tear-drop shaped little ship was rising. It zoomed in a streak of fire across the peaks of Tycho crater.

“Now, Captain Future’s alone!” the Jovian leader exclaimed. He looked at his watch. “And it’s ten now—zero hour.”

He unhooked a gunlike weapon from his belt and aimed it at the glassite window ahead. As he pulled trigger of the instrument he muttered tensely: “This will get Captain Future!”

Chapter II

Upon Earth’s Moon

CURTIS NEWTON, known throughout the Solar System as Captain Future, had been working for hours upon an engrossing scientific experiment. Now he stepped back and surveyed the device on which he had labored, a rueful frown on his face.

“Hang it, why can’t I reverse the electronic orbit-compression?” he wondered. “There must be some way.”

Standing there deep in thought in a corner of his big sub-lunar laboratory, in the flood of filtered sunlight that poured down through the great glassite window overhead, Curt Newton made a strikingly picturesque figure. Six feet-four tall, his shock of unduly red hair flamed in the softened sunlight. He wore a close-fitting zipper-suit of tan synthesilk that could not conceal the long, lithe muscles of a rangy, perfectly coordinated body.

Curt wore but one ornament—if such it could be called. That was the big ring on his left hand, whose nine jewels moved ceaselessly around a radiant central gem. Those moving jewels represented the nine planets of the Solar System, and that unique ring was the identifying emblem of Captain Future, legendary wizard of science and champion of law.

“Must be some way to reverse the process,” Curt muttered perplexedly. “I can do it—why in the world can’t I undo it?”

The thing that held Curt’s attention was a small electrical projector, between whose lens lay a square block of solid gold.

It was only one of the many mechanisms and instruments in this big laboratory. This large room, excavated out of the solid moon-rock beneath Tycho crater, was the greatest citadel of science in the System—the laboratory of Captain Future and the Futuremen. Here, besides ordinary telescopes, spectroscopes, and big atomic-power generators, were many instruments whose design and purpose were known only to the young wizard of science and his three comrades.

The voice of one of those comrades sounded in Curt Newton’s ear now, as he thoughtfully surveyed his experiment.

“Listen, chief, how about letting me go to Venus for a few days?” that voice asked hopefully.

“Nothing doing, Otho,” Curt replied without turning. “You’ve got to go with Simon and Grag over to the sublunar testing chamber.”

“But it would only take me a day or so to make this little trip to Venus—” the voice persisted.

Captain Future turned exasperatedly. “What are you talking about, Otho? You’ve no reason to be going to Venus.”

It was Otho the android who faced him. He was one of the three unhuman Futuremen who were an awesome legend in the System. Otho was a man?—but not an ordinary human man. He was a synthetic man, or android. He had been made scientifically, long ago in this very laboratory—had been created bodily out of artificial synthetic flesh.

THE synthetic body of Otho was manlike in general outline. But his rubbery white artificial figure contained strength and speed and agility beyond that of any human. The slanting, slitted green eyes in his hairless white head flamed with a spirit of devil-may-care recklessness and audacity. They were coaxing in expression now as he pleaded with Captain Future.

“Can’t you let me take the Comet for a trip to Venus?” Otho begged. “It’s for scientific reasons,” he added hastily. “There’s a rare specimen of fungoid creature on that unexplored north Venusian continent that I want to get.”

Curt Newton chuckled.

“You and your rare specimens!” he scoffed at the android. “You’re just bored here on the moon, as usual, and trying to think up an excuse to get off on one of your crazy, hell-raising space-jaunts.”

“Well, anyone would get bored hanging around this cursed moon where nothing ever happens. Since we got back from Pluto, we haven’t been off this shriveled little world.”

A rasping, metallic voice interrupted the android’s sulky complaint.

“If you want something to do so badly, Otho,” rasped that harsh, un-human voice, “your wish is gratified. You can take Grag and me over to the sub-lunar test chamber.”

Both Curt and Otho turned. The other two Futuremen had appeared in one of the doors of the laboratory. One of them was Grag, the robot, whose mighty metal shape loomed seven feet in height. Like a huge metal travesty on mankind he towered, his massive jointed arms and legs hinting the giant strength he possessed. Grag’s eyes—gleaming photoelectric eyes set in the front of his bulbous metal head—looked inquiringly toward Captain Future as he towered high there.

Curled up familiarly on Grag’s metal shoulder was his particular pet—a little bearlike animal with gray, siliceous flesh, a sharp nose and curious little eyes. And the great robot held in one metal hand the handle of the case which contained the third Futureman.

The third Futureman had no body. He was Simon Wright, known from one end of the System to the other as the Brain. For he was simply a human brain that lived in a square, transparent case. Inside that case were the compact pumps and serum-purifiers that circulated artificial blood-serums to keep the Brain living. In the front of the case were the Brain’s artificial lens-eyes, mounted on flexible stalks, and the resonator-mechanism by which he spoke.

Strangest trio in the whole System—these three unhuman Futuremen who were spoken of with awe on every world! Simon Wright, the living Brain who had once been an ordinary living man; Grag, the great metal robot, strongest being in the whole Universe; and Otho, the synthetic man. Three unhuman comrades, with scientific powers and strange abilities beyond compare, who companioned Captain Future, the greatest scientific wizard of all, on his hazardous adventures in defense of law and right!

The Brain was speaking again, his lens-eyes turned toward Curt Newton’s face as his mechanical voice rasped.

“Have you solved the problem of your experiment yet, Curtis?” he asked.

Curt shook his head ruefully.

“Not yet. I can compress the electron-orbits well enough, but can’t reverse it. Watch—”

He reached toward the switch of the electrical projector, beneath which lay the little square block of gold.

“Wait!” boomed Grag hastily. “Eek is there—”

The little gray siliceous animal that had been curled up on Grag’s shoulder had spied the gold, and had made for it. Eek was a moon-pup, a native lunar siliceous animal who was non-breathing and who ate metals and ores. Eek especially loved silver and gold.

“Better get him out from under that projector, Grag,” chuckled Curt, “or he’ll be reduced in size with the gold.”

“Say, that’s the best idea I’ve heard yet, Chief!” exclaimed Otho. “Shrink Eek down to the size of a molecule, and then the little pest won’t be forever chewing up things and making trouble.”

GRAG had snatched Eek hastily from under the projector. Now the big metal robot turned wrathfully on Otho.

“You’re always complaining about Eek!” he accused Otho. “You forget that Eek saved all our lives out on Pluto.”

“I deny that!” Otho shouted. “And even if that cursed moon-pup had saved my life, I still wouldn’t like him.”

“That’s because only humans like myself like pets,” Grag said proudly. “Of course, since you’re not quite human, Otho—”

“Quiet, Grag!” said Curt hastily, as Otho began to answer furiously. “I want to show Simon my experiment.”

Captain Future closed the switch. A beam of red light shot down from the projector onto the little block of gold. The gold block shrank. In minutes, it dwindled in size until it was only one-tenth as big. Curt; turned off the red beam.

“I could make it so small as to be invisible,” he said. “Trouble is, I don’t know yet how to make things big again.”

“Well, we will be back in a few hours,” the Brain told him. “To the Comet, Grag. Come along, Otho.”

Soon, Curt Newton heard a roar of rocket-tubes as the Comet, his superswift space-cruiser, took off from its underground hangar for the short flight around to the Moon’s other side. Curt remained standing, looking musingly around the now silent laboratory, his red head bathed in the sunlight from the great window overhead. He loved this strange dwelling on the wild moon. It was home to him. Here, indeed, he had been born.

All Curt’s first childhood memories were of this place, and of the three Futuremen, the robot and android and Brain. To him, those awesomely un-human beings had never seemed strange, but familiar and dear. They had been his protectors, his tutors.

The Brain, master of science, had given him the unparalleled scientific education that was the foundation for his later wizardry of science. Grag the robot, strongest of all beings, had developed his strength and endurance. Otho, most daring and agile and swift of all, had trained him in quickness and skill. They loved the growing boy, and Curt gave them the affection another lad would give his parents.

Not until he had reached manhood, had the Brain told him of his parents. Of how Roger Newton, young Earth scientist, had fled here to the moon years before with his young wife and with the Brain himself. For Simon Wright was an Earth scientist himself, whose brain had been removed from his aging, dying body and encased in its present serum-case, to live on.

His father and mother, Curt had learned, had fled to this refuge on the moon to escape plotters who coveted their scientific discoveries for sinister purposes. Here in their new lunar home, Roger Newton and the Brain had carried on their great attempt to create artificial living beings. And here they had created two such beings—Grag, the metal robot, and Otho, the synthetic man.

But the plotters they had fled from had followed them to the moon, and had murdered Roger Newton and his young wife. Grag and Otho had slain the murderers. And, dying, Curt’s mother had left her newly born son in the care of the robot and android and Brain, begging them to protect and educate and aid him.

ALL this, Curt Newton had learned when he had reached manhood. And, learning, he had come to a great decision—a decision to apply his unparalleled scientific wizardry and superhuman abilities to a war against all interplanetary criminals.

“The growth of interplanetary traffic, the mingling of planetary races and increase of scientific knowledge, will bring dangers to the System peoples!” Curt had declared. “Danger from such criminals as murdered my parents. With your help, and with the education you’ve given me, I can help the System peoples fight those dangers.”

“It is what your dying mother wanted, lad,” the Brain had rasped. “And Grag and Otho and I will fight at your side. But it means devoting your life single-mindedly to this great cause.”

“I know,” Curt had said earnestly. “I’ll probably go under, sooner or later. But until I do, I’ll use every ounce of my brains and strength to crush those who try to exploit the System’s races.”

Curt had flown secretly to Earth that very night and offered his services to the President of the System Government.

“If you ever need me, flash a signal-flare from the North Pole,” he had said. “I’ll see it—and I’ll come.”

“But who are you, anyway?” the bewildered President had asked.

And a debonair smile had lit Curt’s face as he answered, “You can call me?—Captain Future!”

Thus had been born the career of Captain Future. Since then, the North Pole signal-summons had flared many times. And each time, Curt Newton and the three Futuremen had answered quickly, and by sheer daring and scientific mastery had crushed the plots and plotters who endangered the System.

Curt’s reverie of memory was interrupted by a soft chiming note. He looked up at the wall. On that wall were ten clocks. Nine of them showed the exact time on each of the nine worlds. The tenth clock showed the standard solar time used by all space ships. It was just ten o’clock.

“Time for me to be getting back to work, instead of wool-gathering,” Curt told himself. “Now, if I used a higher frequency beam in this projector, would it—”

He was turning toward the projector, as he spoke. But he suddenly stopped. A paralyzing force had struck him. He slumped to the laboratory floor like a dead man.

“Something’s blocking off all the electric nerve-currents in my body!” the thought flashed through Curt’s mind. “This is no accident—someone’s causing this—”

He made a superhuman mental effort to move. If he could just get to a cabinet across the laboratory, he could use the instruments in it to neutralize this paralyzing force. But he was helpless, unable to stir a finger. He lay prone. And in a moment, he heard men entering the air-lock outer door of the sub-lunar dwelling.

Captain Future waited grimly. Into the laboratory cautiously came a band of space-suited men. The foremost, a bulky Jovian, held a gunlike weapon whose fan of invisible force covered the red-haired scientific wizard.

Curt, still unable to speak or move, surveyed his attackers with flaring gray eyes. Hastily, they tied him with unbreakable metal ropes, keeping out of the range of the invisible force themselves. Then the Jovian snicked off his weapon. Curt found he could move. He made a tremendous effort to break his bonds, but it was futile.

“Put a space-suit on him,” the Jovian was ordering. “He mustn’t die as we take him to the ship—the Wrecker’s orders!”

Curt’s voice was low and deadly as he spoke to the Jovian.

“Who is the Wrecker? Who ordered you to do this?”

THE Jovian laughed hollowly. “You’ll meet the Wrecker soon, Captain Future. You’ve ruined a lot of schemes, but you won’t ruin his. He’s too smart—he struck at you first!”