Kuttner Secret of the Earth Star

1. Auflage 2023
ISBN: 978-1-6676-0200-4
Verlag: Wildside Press
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 0 - No protection

E-Book, Englisch, 92 Seiten

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!

Autoren/Hrsg.

Kuttner, Henry

Leseproben

CHAPTER 2
Escape Seth Martell’s craggy, strong face was set in harsh lines as he sat staring at a folded paper on his desk. Sunlight came warmly through the windows of the penthouse apartment above New York, silvering Martell’s iron-gray hair and clipped moustache. He looked hard as nails—till he lifted his lids and gazed at the three young men before him. Seth Martell was one of the biggest men in America. Connected with the military, high up in the government, his honesty had never been questioned, nor his devotion to his country. Always he had been unswerving in serving his own ideals, no matter what self-sacrifice it entailed. Now— Now there was pain in his gray eyes. He looked at his three sons and hesitated, tapping the folded document with stubby, calloused fingers. “Well?” None of the three spoke. Martell reached for a buzzer, and then drew back his hand. He looked at the tallest of the three. “Tony. Are you the Merlin?” Tony—a dark, lean young man, with very keen black eyes and a thin eager face—cocked up a quizzical eyebrow. “I, sir? The—” Martell’s restraint failed for an instant as he snapped, “Answer me!” Tony sobered. “No, sir,” he said quietly. “I’m not.” “Phil.” The second youth, blond and stocky, took a stubby pipe out of his mouth. “No, sir.” “Jimmy.” The third of the trio looked somewhat like Tony, though a less matured man. The eagerness in Tony’s face was enthusiasm in Jimmy’s, boyish and pleasant. He shot a quick glance at the others, hesitated, and finally said, with a little frown, “I’m not the Merlin, sir.” Martell sighed. “All right. Go in the sun-room and wait, boys. The investigators will be in presently.” He sat steadily regarding his nails till his sons had departed. Tony left them at the door. “Be with you directly,” he murmured, and hurried off along the corridor. The others went into the room, and ten minutes later the oldest of the three came in, his face blandly impassive. He went to the window and stood staring out over the skyscrapers of New York, waiting on the verge of the 21st century. He began to whistle ruminatively. “Seth insisted on interviewing us before the detecs. Good of him.” Young Jimmy, nervously lighting a cigarette, nodded. “Damn good. But all this….I don’t understand it.” Phil’s serious eyes were questioning. “Are you sure? There’s no doubt the authorities think one of us is a crook. I wonder—” There was a little silence. Finally Jimmy asked, “Who is this Merlin, anyway?” “Cleverest crook in the world,” said Tony, turning. “At least, he’s been kicking around for two years. That means a lot these days. He’s pretty much of a Robin Hood. Only kills in self-defense—and never for personal profit.” Phil broke in, “Plenty of criminals have evaded capture for years, but they’re the small fry. Not important enough to attract attention. But the Merlin—everyone thinks he’s had years of experience. Remember when Janison died? The governor? The Merlin killed him, and nobody knew why till they found out Janison was one of the biggest political racketeers in the country. He’s a Robin Hood of sorts, but the law won’t stand for Robin Hoods.” “And,” said Tony sardonically, “one of us is the Merlin. So they say.” Phil grinned. “Which one?” “Oh, they’ll find out. They’ll chart our psychology—our character patterns—and check it with the analysis of the Merlin’s activities. Their lie-detectors will tell them which one of us is the Merlin. That’s positive identification, you know.” * * * * Jimmy crushed out his cigarette, lips working. He swung suddenly on the others. “You’re damn flippant about it! What if it’s true? What if one of us is this crook—d’you know what that’ll mean to Seth? His son shown to the world as a thief and a murderer. Seth will stick by us; I know that. But I know what his honor means to him. He got that silver plate in his skull because he thought more of honor than his life. And now—” “Shut up, Jimmy,” Phil said quietly. “We know all that. But what can we do about it?” Tony murmured, “Our youngest brother is about to suggest that the Merlin confess. A touching sentiment. Headlines all over the world announcing the news. Seth resigning all his offices immediately—he’d do that. Everyone knowing that a son of Seth Martell was—the Merlin.” Phil said, “The Merlin might…disappear.” “He’d have to disappear for good. Suppose I’m the lad, Philip, and suppose I disappear. A signed confession would be just as effective. The moment I disappear, it proves I’m the Merlin. No one has ever watched us. As Seth’s sons, we’re above the routine character-checks. We reported to Seth once a month. Otherwise we were free, all of us, with plenty of time to do as we pleased. Including brigandage!” Phil grunted. “Anyway, people can’t simply drop out of sight in this day and age. Not with television, specialized wireless, telephotography, and so forth. Where the devil could a man hide for years?” “In the Foreign Legion,” Tony said, and waited. His gaze searched the faces of the other two. Surprise, astonishment, and incredulity showed. And vanished. Into Phil’s eyes came a look of dogged grimness. And Jimmy’s face showed—excitement. “The Legion?” he asked. “Yeah. No extradition. Since 1960, when the company started. No government has a hand in the Legion. They rent its services from the company, just as the Hessian dukes used to sell their soldiers to fight for other countries. When there’s a job to be done too dirty for anyone else, they ask the Legion—and waive extradition. The Polar fortresses. The Sub-Sahara. The Canal Patrols on Mars. Dangerous space-lane patrols. It isn’t like the ancient French Legion. This one’s privately owned, and, once you get in, nothing on Earth or Mars can touch you. As long as you’re in the Legion. Men don’t live long in it, as a rule.” “Cheerful thought,” Phil grunted, puffing at his pipe. “By the way, which of us is the Merlin?” Tony smiled. “I’m the guy, lads. And that’s what I’ve been building up to. I’m going to drop out of sight. Head for the Legion. And—well, I wanted you two to know about it. I can’t tell Seth, of course. But—” “I’ll be damned,” Phil said in blank amazement. “You’ve got the Earth Star?” “That’s right.” “Odd. I happen to have it myself. In a hollow tooth.” “You’re both crazy,” said Jimmy. “I’ve got it.” Tony shook his head. “It’s no use. There’s no point in the three of us going into the Legion. One’s enough. So—” Phil said, “Wait a minute. Suppose all three of us disappear? Nobody’d press a charge against three men, when obviously two were innocent. I happen to have the jewel myself—” “Yeah,” Tony grunted. “But slow down. You’re both going off the deep-end. I’m leaving now. Heading for the Legion, and you’re both staying here.” Jimmy said, “We’ll meet you there.” The argument kept on—with no result. Jimmy and Phil were adamant. Each one insisted he had the stolen gem. And, if they didn’t accompany Tony, they’d simply go after him on their own hook. “So we’d better stick together,” Phil said at last. “We’ll have a better chance that way.” Tony’s lips were compressed. “You crazy fools! You’d do it, too…well, stay here. I’m going after an amphiplane.” “What if the investigators get here first?” Phil asked. “Stall ’em. And keep your eye on that window.” Jimmy was chewing his lip. “How do you expect to get out? If there are guards—” * * * * Tony’s grin flashed. “You’ll find out.” He turned to the door—and was gone, apparently unruffled. But as he hurried along the passage there was a gnawing uneasiness in his mind. Guards would no doubt be watching to prevent just such an attempt at escape as this. Only blind luck could help now. He went into the big, gleaming kitchen, a bare room with murals on its walls. Every appliance had been built-in, so that stove, tables, and so forth, could be swung out from their cubbyholes by the pressure of a button. The room was empty. Tony’s sharp eyes flickered about, resting at last on a panel near by. He went to it, swung it open, and revealed a black hole beyond. The dumbwaiter. A glance upward informed him that the little car was below, though how far he did not know. Deftly Tony swung his legs through the hole and seized the ropes in strong fingers. He closed the panel behind him. It wasn’t entirely dark. A diffused pale glow filtered down from above, and gently, carefully, Tony let himself slip toward the shaft’s bottom. It was a long chance. Unless he found footing on the dumbwaiter car soon, his fingers would inevitably lose their cramped grip. For this was a penthouse apartment in a skyscraper. Down he went into the shaft. Skin scraped from his hands. It grew darker, and below him was only unfathomable blackness. Tony hooked his legs about the rope and rested for a few moments, though he dared not delay long. Time was vitally important. Then down he went again. He was in pitch darkness now, every muscle strained and beginning to ache. His hands stung painfully. His shoulders were...