Flash Gordon 2 - The Plague of Sound (15 page)

Flash watched him for a few seconds, then said, “Okay, let’s go.”

“There’s a way out right down here,” said Flip. “I remember from Sawtel’s map.” He pushed at two spots on the corridor wall and a doorway appeared.

When they were running down the secret exitway, Jillian asked Tad, “What did you see? What’s going on?”

“Outside,” said the boy. “When we’re outside, I’ll tell you.”

They had a mile to run.

No one was left in Perfect City now. No one except the two dead men. The familiar silence had returned to the spotless white streets and lanes. The ivory dome which covered the city and held back the earth above it had a large black rectangle cut into it now. The main exit had been left open when the freed slaves took their leave. A single night bird came fluttering down through the opening, its scarlet-and-gold feathers the only touch of color in the whiteness of Perfect City.

And for a moment the only sound was the flapping of its wings. The bird landed on the tiles of the square and began exploring with its yellow beak. It went ticking slowly across the square.

A harsh discordant sound began, much like the sounds which had been heard across Estampa. The noise grew louder, more intense, more insistent.

The scarlet-and-gold bird took flight, frightened. It never reached the night sky outside. A wave of sound hit it and the bright bird dropped back down to the white ground.

The buildings began to shake, faintly at first. Then the swaying increased. There was a huge snapping sound as a ramp cracked in half. Then another, and another.

The palace building was the first to fall. It crumpled slowly in on itself, like a snow figure left out in the sun. Next a slender tower broke across the center. The city became a kaleidoscope of fragments. Everything was tumbling, falling, smashing to the ground. The ground itself was cracking.

Rubble clogged the spotless white streets, filled the twisting lanes. Clouds of white dust began to swirl upward.

Finally, the control-room area broke apart and the destructive waves of sound stopped. Once again there was silence.

Dust continued to billow up, lifting above the remains of Perfect City and spilling out into the darkness of the jungle.

J
illian watched a moment longer, then turned away and began crying.

Her brother followed her, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Take it easy now, Jill.”

She twisted out of his reach and walked along the jungle path to Tad. “You knew this before,” she accused. “You knew it when we first went into that damn city. You could have stopped him.”

The lanky boy shook his head. “I only knew then what Sawtel was considering, Jillian,” he told her. “I read his thoughts and one of them was that he would try to destroy Perfect City.”

“You let him commit suicide.”

“I can read people’s thoughts,” Tad said. “I can’t control them.”

“But you could have told me, told Flash,” she insisted. “Then we could have saved him, dragged him out of there if we had to.”

“Sawtel was determined to destroy Pan, too,” said the boy. “I don’t think he was completely certain he would try to destroy the city until he’d met Pan.”

“Is that what happened?” asked Flash.

“Yes,” answered Tad. “That is what I picked up just before I told you we must get out of there fast. Pan, when he knew what was happening to his slaves, went to the control area. He found Sawtel there and shot him.”

“You didn’t tell me that before,” said Jillian.

“We had other things to do,” said Tad. “Sawtel was able to shove Pan from a high catwalk. I received no more thoughts from Pan after he fell. So I know he was dead. Sawtel was dying and he decided to bring Perfect City down with him. He set Pan’s instruments so that the destructive sound waves would concentrate on Perfect City itself.”

“We could have been trapped in there ourselves,” said Jillian’s brother.

“I think, Iyan, that Sawtel knew I’d be able to warn you and that we’d get out safely” Tad told the girl’s brother.

Dale glanced at the opening in the jungle through which they’d witnessed the fall of the city. She crossed to Flash, taking hold of his hand. “I can’t forget,” she said to him, “that I stood by watching while Pan tortured you.”

“That’s all over, Dale,” he told her.

“Hey, cats,” inquired Flip. “What now?”

“lyan and I will go home,” said Jillian. “I suppose you’ll be heading for your home territory, too, Tad.”

“I’d sort of like to visit the capital of Estampa,” the boy said. “Could I tag along with you, Flash?”

“Sure, you’re welcome to join us,” said Flash. “What we have to figure out now is how to get back there. When the city was destroyed, the captured aircruisers went with it.”

“I hope we can catch a lift,” said Flip. “I don’t think much of footing it all the way there.”

“Are you going to the capital, too, Flip?” the red-haired girl asked him.

“You bet, chick,” he answered. “After what I been through, I figure I’m ready for the big time.”

“Yes, that’s him,” announced the chrome-plated robot.

Dr. Zarkov took a few seconds to realize what Rattlin had said. He’d developed the habit of ignoring the robot. “Flash?”

Rattlin-203-AP tapped a scanner screen with the tip of a metal finger. “Flash Gordon, as I live and breathe. Directly below us and traveling in the company of two very attractive young ladies. I assume the raven-tressed one is Dale Arden.”

“Raven-tressed?” Zarkov squinted at the screen the robot had touched. “They put too big a vocabulary into you. Yeah, that’s Flash and Dale sure enough.” He tugged the slowing lever back, set the course indicators for a U turn.

“Going to be very difficult to set her down in this wilderness.” observed the robot.

“Not going to,” said Zarkov, throwing another switch. “We’ll hover and I’ll go down the ladder.”

“Ah,” said Rattlin-203-AP, “that hadn’t occurred to me.”

The burly scientist had the aircruiser turned around now. He guided it down toward the treetops.

“They’ve noticed us,” the robot pointed out.

“They ought to,” said Zarkov. “This thing is making so much noise it’s shaking the leaves out of the trees.” He had the aircruiser as close as he could safely get it to the treetops. Setting the controls for hover, Zarkov unstrapped himself from the pilot seat.

“Ah, look at all the expectant smiles on their faces,” said Rattlin. “I trust they won’t be disappointed.”

“The arrival of Zarkov is rarely a disappointment,” he told his mechanical copilot. “Now I’m going to climb down the ladder and see what Flash is up to.”

“Very good, Captain.”

“You stay right where you are,” Zarkov said as he lowered himself into the ladder hatch. “Fold your hands in your lap and don’t fiddle with anything while I’m gone.”

He climbed down out of the ship.

F
lash held out his hand. “Doc,” he said with a grin, “what brings you to this neck of the woods?”

Giving one more uneasy glance up at his hovering aircruiser, the doctor let go of the ladder and dropped five feet to the ground. He strode across the rough grass to his friend. “I’ve got a nitwit robot looking after the ship,” he said, shaking Flash’s hand, “and I don’t quite trust him. I expected to find you in Perfect City.”

“There is no more Perfect City,” replied Flash.

“Huh,” exclaimed Zarkov, giving his beard a ferocious tug. It came off in his hand.

Dale came over to him. “Doc, what’s happened to you?”

“I had to disguise myself,” he answered. He frowned at the girl for half a minute. “That was a nitwit thing to do, by the way, Dale. Coming out here on your own like that.”

“You’re probably right.” She gave him an impulsive hug. “Now tell me about your whiskers.”

“Well,” said Zarkov as the frown faded from his face, “first I had to impersonate a truckdriver and then I had to impersonate myself.”

“Hey, daddy, are you in show biz?” asked Flip. “Slip me some skin.”

Zarkov eyed the black actor. “Who’s this?”

“This is Flip,” said Flash. “It’ll take a little time to explain his particular talents to you, Doc.”

Dr. Zarkov looked up to make sure the aircruiser was still there. “We can talk on the way home,” he said. “Or is there some reason to stay on here in Mazda Territory?”

“No, we can head for home. This end of things is cleared up and finished.”

“So is my end,” said Zarkov.

Flash turned to Jillian and her brother. “Do you want to travel with us? I’m sure Doc will be happy to drop you off in your home territory.”

“Just a minute,” said Zarkov. “They may live at the ends of the galaxy.”

Jillian smiled at the beardless Zarkov. “Not quite that far,” she said. “But we don’t need a lift anyway, Iyan and I want to travel on foot, see who else we run into from our home area. A good many of our people were also captured by Pan, you know.”

“Okay, then,” said Flash, “good luck to you. I appreciate the help you gave me.”

The red-haired girl ignored his proffered hand, hopped up, and kissed him on the cheek. “Good-bye, Flash.”

“No matter where we go in the universe,” said Zarkov in a murmur.

“I trust I’m doing a satisfactory job,” called Rattlin from the cabin of the aircruiser.

“Great, great,” bellowed Zarkov.

They were all seated in the rec room of the ship, except for Flip who was up sitting next to the robot and studying the images on the scanner screens.

“So you didn’t run across General Yate in Perfect City?” Zarkov asked Flash.

Flash shook his head. “No, but then I wasn’t looking for him.”

“He’s all right,” said Tad. “Though not too happy about having to travel back to Estampa on foot.”

“How do you know that?”

“Tad can read minds,” explained Flash. “From a considerable distance.”

Zarkov stroked his chin, studying the boy. “You’ll have to teach me that trick,” he said to him. “I’ve always figured that with a brain like mine extrasensory perception should be a cinch.”

“It’s not exactly a trick,” said Tad. “I really don’t know why I’m able to do what I do. No more than Flip understands his gift.”

“He’s got a wild talent, too?”

“Flip can change his shape,” said Flash. “It came in pretty handy out in Perfect City.”

“Well,” said Zarkov, “you sure collected quite a crew together for yourself, Flash. A mind reader, a shape changer, and that amazon girl.”

“I’m not as much of a loner as you are.”

Zarkov said, “I did handle my end of things pretty much single-handedly.” He twisted his head to check on his robot. “Except for that nitwit the Air Service stuck me with.”

“They don’t,” asked Dale, “want Flash for murder or anything now back in the capital?”

“No,” Zarkov boomed. “I solved all that ridiculous business, cracked the case.”

“Who was it I had my interview with that night?” Flash wanted to know.

“An android,” said Zarkov. “A pretty good one, too.”

“The girl was real, though,” said Flash, “wasn’t she?”

“Yeah, she’s in custody now. She and her partner were all set to use a stun rifle on Zarkov, but I outfoxed them.”

“So they had an andy duplicate of Minnig,” said Flash, “and one of me and another of General Yate.”

“Right, plus one of me.” Zarkov scratched at his whiskerless face. “They had a bomb inside my andy. They were going to use it tomorrow, or rather today, to blow up the president if he didn’t give in to Pan’s demands.”

“You pretended to be the android simulacrum of yourself?” asked Dale.

“Did a good job, too,” said Zarkov. He nodded in the direction of Flip in the cabin. “As any actor will tell you, it was a real challenge. I had to be not the real me, but an android replica of myself. So I had to be a little less the real authentic Zarkov. I brought it off beautifully, though, and got my hands on Pan’s head man in the capital.”

“You haven’t mentioned his name,” said Flash.

“It was Dr. Nazzaro.”

“Who?” said Dale.

“Right,” said Zarkov. “He was so bland and nondescript you hardly paid attention to him. But he was always around, or checking in with me on the pixphone. He arranged for the killing of Minnig, and for the attempt to do me in.”

“I thought,” said Dale, “you told us they only wanted to stun you.”

“On that particular occasion,” said the doctor. “This was another time, down along the waterfront.”

Flash locked his hands behind his head, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t think there’ll be any more trouble. Only Pan and Sawtel knew how any of the stuff in Perfect City worked. They’re both dead, and the city is destroyed.”

“It’s a good thing,” said Zarkov, “there aren’t more scientists of my caliber on this planet. Every time a brilliant mind goes blooey you get trouble.”

Tad asked, “Will you all be going home immediately?”

“To Earth, you mean?” said Flash.

“I’d like,” said Zarkov, “to stick around Estampa about three and a half weeks more.”

“Why three and a half?” Dale asked him.

“That’s how long it’ll take me to grow a new beard.”

T
he porter robot said, “Oops!” and dropped the trunk on Dr. Zarkov’s foot.

The bearded doctor narrowed his left eye, studying the chrome-plated robot. “I know you,” he boomed.

The mechanism reached toward the fallen trunk, then straightened up and saluted. “Rattlin-203-AP, at your service, Admiral.”

It was a warm clear afternoon, some three weeks after their return to Estampa’s capital. Zarkov was standing next to a pale-yellow plastic wall which circled the takeoff area of the capital city spaceport. “How come you’re working here?” he asked Rattlin.

“Well, in a way,” said the robot, “it’s your fault, Colonel.”

“My fault?” bellowed Zarkov. “How so?”

“After you cleared up the plague of sound troubles,” replied Rattlin-203-AP, “everyone around here took to feeling very secure. One thing led to another and the Armed Forces Committee cut the Air Service budget by a third. That phased out all robots attached to the AS. I was lucky to pick up this job here, though I’m sure things will swing back and I’ll get a chance to go up again.” He bent and hefted up the dropped trunk. “Nice to have run into you, Captain. Bon voyage.”