Read Online Captain Future 05 - Captain Future and the Seven Space Stones (Winter 1941) by Edmond Hamilton - Free Book Online
Authors: Edmond Hamilton
Tags: Sci Fi & Fantasy
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amazing skill. Actually, as Grag soon learned, Ul Quorn had transferred part of a man’s brain into the Moon Wolf’s skull, giving it true human intelligence.
Quorn had been responsible also for the “Eel Man,” a Venusian whose skeleton structure had been cunningly dissolved, then replaced by a reticulation of elastic rods. As a result the Eel Man could compress his body to unbelievable slimness, and literally tie himself into knots. Grag liked the patient, quiet Moon Wolf, and he saw that the Eel Man was timid. But he disliked the so-called “Meteor Dwarfs,” Juho and Luho, two hideous Plutonian freaks who stared at him with red-rimmed, hostile eyes.
ALL the freaks seemed to fear Ul Quorn. The softest word of the mixed-breed was obeyed with frantic haste. It made Grag realize the perilousness of his own position, but he was careful to keep up a loud boastful front.
“When other performers treat me right, I treat them right,” he roared. “When they treat me wrong, I break ‘em in half.”
“You better not try threatening me,” muttered the Hearer.
“Let the Strong Man alone,” the Moon Wolf said hoarsely. “His loud talk means nothing. I think he is a good fellow.”
Lounging and watching everything, Grag later that morning saw a lean, cocky figure in a foppish zipper-suit swagger through the grounds. It was a vain-looking, lithe, white Ganymedean.
“That’s the new acrobat Jur Nugat hired for the circus,” said the Moon Wolf in his husky, slurred voice. “He calls himself the ‘Ultra-acrobat’. They say he did some marvelous feats.”
“I don’t like acrobats,” Grag declared. “They skip around like insects. If they get in my way, I —”
“You break ‘em in half?” asked the Moon Wolf, looking up at him with a flicker of strange humor in his green animal eyes.
In the early afternoon, a tremendous sensation rocked the circus. A rusty old Kalber rocket flier landed nearby. From it emerged a big Venusian swamp man, driving before him six shambling, black-scaled monstrosities.
“Marsh tigers — and they’re loose!” went up the terrified yell.
Performers and roustabouts fled in all directions, yet the horrific beasts lumbered docilely along toward the main pavilion. Grag knew the swamp man driving them was Captain Future. But Curt had disguised himself so well, he was totally unrecognizable. His curly red hair was now straight and black, his tanned skin the unhealthy white of a swamp-dweller. He wore a soiled old zipper-suit, and had one hand thrust idly into its pocket.
Grag guessed that Curt had his will-dampener in that pocket to keep the beasts in a submissive stupor by means of its radiations. He saw Captain Future approach the office of Jur Nugat, the circus proprietor, who had locked himself inside.
“Take those beasts away!” shrieked the Saturnian.
“I can control ‘em,” Curt answered confidently in a soft Venusian dialect. “I’m Kovo, and I thought maybe you’d buy these marsh tigers.”
Fearfully Jur Nugat emerged, trembling, but apparently reassured by the obvious docility of the ferocious beasts. Grag heard him ask:
“You really have tamed these monsters? But nobody has ever tamed marsh tigers!”
“I have,” the pseudo-Venusian replied casually. “Watch me.”
Grag saw Curt playfully cuff the monstrous beasts, wrestle with them, do everything possible to rouse them. They remained docile.
“Say, if you did that in an act, it would be the sensation of the circus!” Jur Nugat yapped excitedly. “Will you?”
“Well, I’d only figured to sell you the beasts,” Curt answered with assumed reluctance.
“I’ll pay any salary you ask — within reason,” Jur Nugat offered. “But I won’t buy the brutes unless you come with them.”
FOR the rest of that day, Grag heard of nothing but the Venusian who had actually tamed marsh tigers, and was going to work in an act with them in that evening’s show. When evening came, lights and music
Quorn had been responsible also for the “Eel Man,” a Venusian whose skeleton structure had been cunningly dissolved, then replaced by a reticulation of elastic rods. As a result the Eel Man could compress his body to unbelievable slimness, and literally tie himself into knots. Grag liked the patient, quiet Moon Wolf, and he saw that the Eel Man was timid. But he disliked the so-called “Meteor Dwarfs,” Juho and Luho, two hideous Plutonian freaks who stared at him with red-rimmed, hostile eyes.
ALL the freaks seemed to fear Ul Quorn. The softest word of the mixed-breed was obeyed with frantic haste. It made Grag realize the perilousness of his own position, but he was careful to keep up a loud boastful front.
“When other performers treat me right, I treat them right,” he roared. “When they treat me wrong, I break ‘em in half.”
“You better not try threatening me,” muttered the Hearer.
“Let the Strong Man alone,” the Moon Wolf said hoarsely. “His loud talk means nothing. I think he is a good fellow.”
Lounging and watching everything, Grag later that morning saw a lean, cocky figure in a foppish zipper-suit swagger through the grounds. It was a vain-looking, lithe, white Ganymedean.
“That’s the new acrobat Jur Nugat hired for the circus,” said the Moon Wolf in his husky, slurred voice. “He calls himself the ‘Ultra-acrobat’. They say he did some marvelous feats.”
“I don’t like acrobats,” Grag declared. “They skip around like insects. If they get in my way, I —”
“You break ‘em in half?” asked the Moon Wolf, looking up at him with a flicker of strange humor in his green animal eyes.
In the early afternoon, a tremendous sensation rocked the circus. A rusty old Kalber rocket flier landed nearby. From it emerged a big Venusian swamp man, driving before him six shambling, black-scaled monstrosities.
“Marsh tigers — and they’re loose!” went up the terrified yell.
Performers and roustabouts fled in all directions, yet the horrific beasts lumbered docilely along toward the main pavilion. Grag knew the swamp man driving them was Captain Future. But Curt had disguised himself so well, he was totally unrecognizable. His curly red hair was now straight and black, his tanned skin the unhealthy white of a swamp-dweller. He wore a soiled old zipper-suit, and had one hand thrust idly into its pocket.
Grag guessed that Curt had his will-dampener in that pocket to keep the beasts in a submissive stupor by means of its radiations. He saw Captain Future approach the office of Jur Nugat, the circus proprietor, who had locked himself inside.
“Take those beasts away!” shrieked the Saturnian.
“I can control ‘em,” Curt answered confidently in a soft Venusian dialect. “I’m Kovo, and I thought maybe you’d buy these marsh tigers.”
Fearfully Jur Nugat emerged, trembling, but apparently reassured by the obvious docility of the ferocious beasts. Grag heard him ask:
“You really have tamed these monsters? But nobody has ever tamed marsh tigers!”
“I have,” the pseudo-Venusian replied casually. “Watch me.”
Grag saw Curt playfully cuff the monstrous beasts, wrestle with them, do everything possible to rouse them. They remained docile.
“Say, if you did that in an act, it would be the sensation of the circus!” Jur Nugat yapped excitedly. “Will you?”
“Well, I’d only figured to sell you the beasts,” Curt answered with assumed reluctance.
“I’ll pay any salary you ask — within reason,” Jur Nugat offered. “But I won’t buy the brutes unless you come with them.”
FOR the rest of that day, Grag heard of nothing but the Venusian who had actually tamed marsh tigers, and was going to work in an act with them in that evening’s show. When evening came, lights and music
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