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Astounding Stories of Super-Science March, 1932, by Astounding Stories is part of HackerNoon’s Book Blog Post series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here. The Affair of the Brains – Chapter VII: The Coming of Leithgow
Astounding Stories of Super-Science March 1932: The Affair of the Brains – Chapter VII
The Coming of Leithgow
By Anthony Gilmore
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Hawk Carse awoke to the touch of a hand on his brow. He came very slowly to full consciousness. His pain was great.
His whole body was sore: every joint, every muscle in it ached; his brain was feverish, pumping turmoil. When he at length opened his eyes he found Friday’s face bent close down, tender anxiety written large over it.
“You all right, suh? How do you feel now?”
A harsh sound came from the Hawk’s throat. He pressed a hand to his throbbing temple and tried to collect his senses. Sitting up helped; he glanced around. They were back in the same cell, and they were alone. Then, shortly, he asked:
“Did I tell him?”
“About Mr. M. S., suh?”
“Of course, I can’t quite remember—a bit blurred——”
“I guess you did, suh,” Friday answered mournfully. “I didn’t hear you, but Ku Sui said you told him where Master Leithgow is. But dog-gone—you couldn’t help it!”
Carse forgot his pain as his brain straightened these words out into their overwhelming consequence, and something of its old familiar mold, hard and graven, emotionless, came back to his face. His eyes were bleak as he murmured:
“I couldn’t help it—no. I really don’t think it was possible. But I could have refused to get into the machine. I thought I could resist it. I took that risk, and failed.” He stopped short. His body twitched with uncontrolled emotion, and in decency the negro turned his back on his master’s anguish. A broken whisper reached him: “I have betrayed Leithgow.”
For a short while neither man moved, or made any sound. Friday was a little afraid; he guessed what must be going on in Carse’s mind, and had no idea what to expect. But the Hawk’s next move was quite disciplined; he was himself again.
He got up and stretched his body, to limber its muscles. “How long have we been here?” he asked.
“Don’t know suh; I was unconscious when they brought me here myself. But I guess not less’n six or eight hours.”
“Unconscious?” asked the Hawk, surprised. “You fought, and they knocked you out?”
The big negro looked sheepish and scratched his woolly head.
“Well, no suh,” he explained. “I was aimin’ to butt in some, but they wouldn’t let me.”
“Then how did you get unconscious?”
Friday fidgeted. He was acutely embarrassed. “Don’t know, suh, Dog-gone, I just can’t figure it, unless I fainted.”
“Oh.” The Hawk smiled. “Fainted. Well so did I, I guess. I suppose,” he went on seriously, “you couldn’t tell whether the asteroid moved or not. I mean toward Satellite III.”
Friday scratched his head again.
“I guess I can’t, suh,” he replied. “I haven’t felt any movement.”
“The door is locked?”
“Oh, yes, suh. Tight.”
“Very well. Now please be silent. I want to think.”
He went over and leaned against the far wall of the cell. His right hand rose to the bangs of flaxen hair and with a slow regular movement began to smooth them. Lost in thought he stood there, thinking through the situation in which he found himself.
He had expected, of course, to subject himself to great risk in keeping the rendezvous with Dr. Ku Sui, but he had never thought he would be endangering Eliot Leithgow also. It was torture to know he had put the gentle old scientist into the Eurasian’s web.
That was it: if he could not somehow shear through that web, he must destroy Leithgow himself, and follow on after. The scientist would prefer it so. For whatever Dr. Ku’s exact reason for wanting the Master Scientist was, it was an ugly one: that it was worse than quick death, he knew full well.
Shear through the web. How? Where was the weak strand in Ku Sui’s cunningly laid plot? The Hawk visualized all he could of the asteroid’s mechanical details, and surveyed them painstakingly. Two great port-locks flanked by little ones; secret opening combinations—not much hope in that avenue. Judd’s ship, resting above: could he reach it, and raise it and douse the buildings with its rays? No; Dr. Ku had spoken of defense rays—they would certainly be far more powerful than the Scorpion’s. Then, somewhere there were the mighty gravity-plates batteries which motivated the asteroid and held it controlled in space. The dynamos. Two men, working swiftly, might wreak an unholy amount of damage in little time; in the resulting confusion anything might happen. If!
Into the depths of his concentration came the odor of tsin-tsin flowers, followed by the familiar, silkie voice of his arch-enemy.
“I see you are deep in thought, my friend. I trust it indicates your complete recovery.”
Dr. Ku Sui stood smiling in the doorway, his same bodyguard of three armed men behind him. His sardonic words brought no reply. He went on:
“I hope so. I have arranged, thanks to your kindness, a meeting with an old, dear friend of yours. An illustrious friend: he already honors my establishment with his presence. I have come to ask you to join us.”
The Hawk’s gray eyes turned frigid: a lesser man would have blanched at the threat implied in his answer.
“God help you, Ku Sui.”
The Eurasian turned it aside. “Always,” he said, “God helps those who help themselves. But come with me, if you’ll be so kind. We are expected in the laboratory.”
This exchange passed quickly. Friday was still grasping at its underlying meanings as they again filed down the short straight outside corridor. It brought a perverse satisfaction to see the coolie guards bearing their ray-guns unsheathed and ready. Ku Sui’s general attitude did not fool him. He knew that the man’s suave mockery and flowery courtesy were camouflage for a very real fear of the quick wits and brilliant, pointed action of his famous master, the Hawk.
Carse walked steadily enough, but every step he took beat in his mind like the accents of a dirge. For he had betrayed into the hands of the Eurasian his most loved and loyal friend. Betrayed him! Despicably egotistical he had been in submitting to the chair, in not making one last wild break for freedom at that time. He had thought he could beat Ku Sui at his own game. Ku Sui, of all men!
Unseen hands opened from the other side the metal laboratory door, they passed through and the close-fitting halves closed behind them. Ku Sui went to the main switchboard and Carse glanced rapidly around. Leithgow was not there. The wire-ball device was gone, but otherwise the details of the room were unchanged, even to the four white-clad assistants whose fine heads had eyes so lifeless and faces so expressionless. Emphasized, now, somehow, was the tall screen that hid something on one side of the room, and an intuition told the Hawk that what lay behind the screen was in some way connected with their fate.
He waited stolidly for what he knew was coming.
“Now,” Dr. Ku murmured. He smiled at his two prisoners and pressed one of the switchboard’s array of buttons. A door opposite them swung open.
“Believe me, this is a pleasure,” he said.
Flanked by two impressive slant-eyed guards, a frail figure in a rubber apron stood revealed.
Master Scientist Eliot Leithgow blinked as he looked about the laboratory. Helpless, pitifully alone he looked, with his small, slightly stooped body, his tragedy-aged, deeply-lined face. The blue veins showed under the transparent skin of his forehead; his light-blue eyes, set deep under snow-white eyebrows, darted from side to side, dazed by the light and perhaps still confused by the events which had snatched him so suddenly from his accustomed round and struck him with such numbing force. His years and frailty were obviously fitted rather to some seat of science in a university on Earth than the raw conditions of the frontiers of space.
Hawk Carse found words, but could not control his voice.
“This is the first time I’ve ever been sorry to see you, M. S.,” he said simply.
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