Secret of the Earth Star E-Book

Henry Kuttner

• Herausgeber: Wildside Press
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Seitenzahl: 104

Beschreibung

Aeons ago, the science of ancient Atlantis forged the Earth Star in a desperate attempt to save the doomed continent. The fabled jewel holds immense power, and there are those who would use its weird energies for evil. And there are those who would use it to resurrect thelost continent...at any cost!

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

SECRET OF THE EARTH STAR, by Henry Kuttner

COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

SECRET OF THE EARTH STAR,by Henry Kuttner

COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

Copyright © 2023 by Wildside Press LLC.

Originally published in Amazing Stories, August 1942.

Published by Wildside Press LLC.

wildsidepress.com | bcmystery.com | blackcatweekly.com

INTRODUCTION

Henry Kuttner was born in Los Angeles, California in 1915. As a young man, he worked in his spare time for the literary agency of his uncle, Laurence D’Orsay (in fact his first cousin by marriage), in Los Angeles before selling his first story, “The Graveyard Rats,” to Weird Tales in early 1936. It was while working for the d’Orsay Agency that Kuttner picked Leigh Brackett’s early manuscripts off the slush pile. It was under his tutelage that she sold her first story (to John W. Campbell at Astounding Stories).

Kuttner was known for his literary prose and worked in close collaboration with his wife, C.L. Moore. They met through their association with the “Lovecraft Circle,” a group of writers and fans who corresponded with H.P. Lovecraft. Their work together spanned the 1940s and 1950s and most of the work was credited to pseudonyms, mainly Lewis Padgett and Lawrence O’Donnell.

L. Sprague de Camp, who knew Kuttner and Moore well, has stated that their collaboration was so seamless that, after a story was completed, it was often impossible for either Kuttner or Moore to recall who had written what. According to de Camp, it was typical for either partner to break off from a story in mid-paragraph or even mid-sentence, with the latest page of the manuscript still in the typewriter. The other spouse would routinely continue the story where the first had left off. They alternated in this manner as many times as necessary until the story was finished.

Among Kuttner’s most popular work were the Gallegher stories, published under the Padgett name, about a man who invented high-tech solutions to client problems (assisted by his insufferably egomaniacal robot) when he was stinking drunk, only to be completely unable to remember exactly what he had built or why after sobering up. These stories were later collected in Robots Have No Tails. In her introduction to the 1973 edition, Moore stated that Kuttner wrote all the Gallegher stories himself.

Marion Zimmer Bradley is among many authors who have cited Kuttner as an influence. Her novel The Bloody Sun is dedicated to him. Roger Zelazny has talked about the influence of The Dark World on his Amber series.

Kuttner’s friend Richard Matheson dedicated his 1954 novel I Am Legend to Kuttner, with thanks for his help and encouragement. Ray Bradbury has said that Kuttner actually wrote the last 300 words of Bradbury’s first horror story, “The Candle” (Weird Tales, November 1942). Bradbury has referred to Kuttner as a neglected master and a “pomegranate writer: popping with seeds—full of ideas.”

William S. Burroughs’s novel The Ticket That Exploded contains direct quotes from Kuttner regarding the “Happy Cloak” parasitic pleasure monster from the Venusian seas.

Mary Elizabeth Counselman believed that Kuttner’s habit of writing under widely varied pseudonyms deprived him of the fame that should have been his. “I have often wondered why Kuttner chose to hide his talents behind so many false faces for no editorial reason... Admittedly, the fun is in pretending to be someone else. But Kuttner cheated himself of much fame that he richly deserved by hiding his light under a bushel of pen names that many fans did not know were his. Seabury Quinn and I both chided him about this.”

Among his pseudonyms were:

Edward J. Bellin

Paul Edmonds

Noel Gardner

Will Garth

James Hall

Keith Hammond

Hudson Hastings

Peter Horn

Kelvin Kent (used for work with Arthur K. Barnes)

Robert O. Kenyon

C. H. Liddell

Hugh Maepenn

Scott Morgan

Lawrence O’Donnell

Lewis Padgett

Woodrow Wilson Smith

Charles Stoddard

According to J. Vernon Shea, August Derleth “kept promising to publish Hank’s and Catherine’s books under the Arkham House imprint, but kept postponing them.”

Henry Kuttner spent the middle 1950s getting his master’s degree before dying of a heart attack in Los Angeles in 1958.

—Karl Wurf

Rockville, Maryland

CHAPTER 1

The Earth Star

Despite the blazing heat of the hot Indian night, this air-conditioned room in the palace was cool and comfortable. It was a bit too luxurious for a business office; otherwise, it might have been any New York suite. Three men sat at a small glass-topped table, on which stood a Gladstone bag.

They rose as two Indians entered, bowing respectfully to the Rajah. The latter was a small, weak-faced man with a straggling moustache and lips too large and red for his sallow face. He barely acknowledged the greetings, his gaze riveted on the leather bag.

“You have the Earth Star?” he asked.

“Yes,” said one of the three Europeans. He opened the bag, unlocked a metal case built into it, and withdrew a jewel-case. This he opened and placed flat on the table.

The Rajah’s mouth went dry. He could not repress a little shiver. “The Earth Star…” he whispered.

On black velvet the great gem flamed. It was lens-shaped and supernally lovely, with rays of living light flaming out from its heart. The colors latent within it changed and shifted under the soft illumination. It was like a diamond—yet no diamond had ever possessed the wonder of the Earth Star.

The Rajah’s secretary breathed deeply. “Carbon,” he murmured. “A tree-fern some million years ago—”

One of the Europeans interrupted, though he did not look away from the jewel. “A little more than that, sir. It took unusual pressure to make the Earth Star. It came from the new cavern mines under the Atlantic, you know, when they were taking cores to test from immense depths. A tree-fern made the Earth Star—but that fern was somehow buried deeper than man has ever thought possible. It’s immensely harder than diamond, though it’s carbon, of course. And the only one in existence—”

The Rajah said softly, “There is an Earth Star in the crown of your ruler.”

A subdued smile went the rounds of the group. “So there is, and an excellent imitation, too. I repeat: you will be the owner of the only Earth Star in existence.”

The Rajah placed his slim hand, glittering with invaluable jeweled rings, flat on the table-top. “Then it is a bargain. My secretary will give you a check.”

Abruptly the moonlight was blotted out. The figure of a man seemed to rush out of the night, leaping in through the open window to land lightly on the deep carpet. And that window overlooked a sheer abyss, reaching down to the river gorge far below.

The sudden movements of the Europeans, and the quick gesture of the Rajah’s secretary, were arrested at sight of an oddly shaped pistol in a gloved hand. The intruder stood motionless, one hand gripping a light metal ladder that extended up through the window and out of sight. He wore ordinary flying togs, but his face was hidden by a black silk mask.

“Don’t move,” he said, in a low voice that was obviously disguised. “No—don’t do that!” The pistol jerked slightly; otherwise there was no indication that the trigger had been pulled. But one of the Europeans cursed softly as his arm dropped to his side, paralyzed.

“A neurogun,” the masked man observed pleasantly. “It can kill, you know….I’ll thank you not to move. Now—” He hooked the flexible ladder across a chair and moved warily to the table. “The Earth Star, eh?”

“Don’t be a fool,” the secretary said. “You can’t hope to sell that. It’s unique.”

The intruder did not answer, but his quizzical gaze was amused. The tallest of the Europeans snarled, “Sell it? Jackass—haven’t you ever heard of the Merlin?”

As he spoke, his foot moved slightly toward the chair to which the ladder was attached. He froze as the Merlin turned toward him.

“You recognize me?”

“I’ve heard of you.”

“Good!” The Merlin’s voice was suddenly sharp. “Then listen! I have ways of finding out what I want to know. I discovered that certain powers ruling your country had decided to sell the Earth Star to our friend the Rajah. The price I don’t know, but it must be fabulous. If that money were to go to needed purposes, I’d not have come here tonight.”

The tall European kicked the chair gently. The metal ladder slipped off, slid across the carpet, and vanished out the window. The Merlin apparently did not notice, though his retreat was now cut off.

* * * *

He went on: “But the money is to be used for armaments. And you gentlemen, and those behind you, are trying to foment a new war. As for you—” He glanced at the Rajah. “You are a degenerate moron. Don’t move! It’s probably the first time you’ve ever heard the truth, but you’re going to hear it now. You’re the wealthiest man in the Orient, and you inherited your fortune, as well as your powers. You won’t buy the Earth Star out of your own treasury, though. It’ll mean taxes for your people, who are starving already. Another reason why I’m here.”

The Merlin glanced down. “This bit of carbon is causing trouble, I think. So I’ll take it along. The imitation that was made to replace it won’t interest the Rajah. So—”

He slipped the jewel in his pocket and moved back toward the window. The others watched him narrowly. The Merlin apparently did not notice the absence of his metal ladder.

The gun was still steady in one hand, but in the other he now held an object like a small flashlight. “You may be interested in knowing how I evaded your guards and alarms. I came in a gyroship.”

“But—my motor-killing rays—” The Rajah’s eyes were wide.

“They extend up only 300 feet. I hovered well above that point and came down a ladder. And here it is.”

The ladder swung in from the darkness. The Merlin’s voice was amused as he slipped the “flashlight” into his flying suit.

“A clever trick—but I have a very powerful magnet. I’ll leave you, gentlemen—”

For an instant his attention was distracted as he put one foot on the window-sill. Simultaneously the tallest European acted. With a deep-voiced oath he sprang forward, seized the Merlin, and clamped one hand over the outlaw’s gun-wrist.

“Hold him!” the secretary shrilled. He dived for an alarm buzzer. The other Europeans closed in.

The Merlin fought in silence. His opponent was trying to drag him back into the room—and that would be fatal. The outlaw dropped his weapon and gripped the ladder, with both hands now.

He pulled himself up, putting all his weight on his arms. Inevitably the European was lifted too. Overbalanced, the two went arcing into the night as clutching fingers missed their mark by a fraction.

“Shoot!” the Rajah screamed. “Shoot him!”

Guns blazed from the window. Dim in the moonlight two figures were struggling on a frail metal ladder, suspended above nothingness. A scrap of cloth went fluttering down.

“His mask—”

Out of the dark came a voice, sharp and clear.

“Martell!”

It rose in a scream. One of the figures went plunging down.

The secretary was at the window, a flashlight in his hand. He focused the beam on the quarry, a man in flying togs who kept his face turned from the light. Now other rays shot out from the roof, bathing the Merlin in merciless brilliance. A shot cracked sharply.

“They’ll get him,” the Rajah said. “I’ve sub-machine guns on the roof.”

The Merlin’s hand lifted, fumbled over the ladder. And—suddenly—he was gone! Ladder and outlaw vanished!

The Rajah stared in blank amazement. “How—”

“Automatic winding device in his plane. It just wound him up.” The European who spoke looked at his empty gun. “Better get your planes after him.”

At a nod from the Rajah the secretary hurried from the room. “We’ll get him,” royalty remarked.

“No, you won’t. The Merlin’s got a fast plane. He’s pulled off these things before. But this time—well, he lost his mask.”

“Did you recognize him?”

“Stone did, before he fell. He screamed a name. Remember? Martell.”

“A common name,” the Rajah frowned.

“Stone and I worked closely together. He knew no Martells. He recognized the name and the face from elsewhere. Newsreels—newspapers—everybody knows Seth Martell and his sons. I’ll get in touch with my government immediately. May I use your televisor?”

“Yes. Recover the Earth Star, and I’ll buy it.”

“That,” said the European grimly, “is a bargain.”