Flash Gordon 5 - The Witch Queen of Mongo (9 page)

Yes, Queen Azura was elated.

And she was also amused.

Paralysis NG, the nerve gas her experts in the council of scientific advisors had devised for her, was one thing, but this new formulation—pacifist mist—was something else again.

Originally, as part of her overall plan to dominate the planet of Mongo both politically and scientifically, she had moved her entire ministry of science into military experiments. The genius and ingenuity of the Azurian scientists had, however, come up with more and more types of vapors and formulations that had nothing to do with military aggression.

Pacifist mist was a strange offshoot from the labs that Azura had never tried to use before. Now, as she studied Flash Gordon cowering in the corner of her chamber, she realized that some of these military developments could be used for her own personal pleasure as well as for intra-planetary conquest.

Naturally, none of this would ever interfere with her ultimate goal—to become the Witch Queen of Mongo.

Meanwhile, she could afford to indulge herself with Flash Gordon, to whom she had once made a long-standing promise: to make him pay for spurning her advances years before when he had first landed on Mongo.

She knew his strength and his will and his pride. And now she had bested him by the very simple means of forcing pacifist mist on him. He had turned into a man without courage, a mouse, a cipher motivated totally by fear and terror.

Pacifist mist alone could make the average man into a cowering wretch, just as her lab technicians had promised. Yet it had not been powerful enough to defeat Flash Gordon completely. Her scientists had developed another vapor, pacifist mist plus, to be used in conjunction with pacifist mist if it proved not effective enough.

Plus was a vapor that accentuated the original fear inspired by pacifist mist by causing hallucinations in the mind, hallucinations based on fear and horror.

In effect, although pacifist mist had turned Flash Gordon momentarily into a coward, he had begun to fight off its effects by his own strong willpower and self-confidence.

But the fear vapor from pacifist mist plus had taken hold of his mind and made him see nonexistent demons and monsters, at the same time turning him into a fearful, terror-stricken, demon-ridden human being.

Queen Azura laughed again.

“Well, Flash Gordon,” she said triumphantly, standing over him, hands on hips, “I hardly recognize the proud, domineering man I once knew. What has happened to you?”

“Let me alone,” muttered Flash, his face pale, his eyes sunken into his head. “Please.”

“No,” Azura responded with a smile. “I can’t let you alone, Flash. You’re going to help me.”

“Go away,” whispered Flash, turning his head to the wall.

Azura’s face turned furious. “You sniveling coward, don’t try to avoid me.” She leaned over him and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him toward her; “Now get up.”

“No, no,” Flash said, moaning.

“Get up or I’ll hit you,” snapped Azura, and drew back one hand to slap his face.

Flash’s eyes widened and his mouth trembled. He quickly scrambled to all fours, and then stood up beside her, towering over her, but trembling and pale.

“Don’t hit me, Queen Azura, don’t hit me.”

Queen Azura smiled her satisfaction. “Enough of these quivering pleas, Flash.”

She took his hand.

He cowered over her, and then as she smiled at him he allowed himself to be led by her across the chamber toward a trestle table that sat at the far end of the apartment. There were pencils and pens on the desk, an inkwell, and some piles of paper.

“Please, Queen Azura,” whined Flash as she pulled him along after her, “don’t hurt me.”

“I won’t do anything bad to you, if you do as I say,” she assured him with a smile.

“Thank you, Queen Azura. Thank you.”

“Sit down, please,” she said firmly. Flash looked up at her pleadingly, his eyes clouded and fearful.

“Where?” he asked.

She pointed to a chair at the trestle table. “There.”

“What must I do?” he asked.

Azura walked around to the other side of the table and took up a sheet of paper. She reached out and lifted a pen out of a holder, dipped it into a well of ink, and handed the pen to Flash.

“Write,” she commanded.

“Yes,” said Flash. “What do you want me to write?”

Queen Azura looked at the ceiling a moment, composing her thoughts. “Write this: ‘My Dear Prince Barin.’ ”

Flash glanced up with a smile. “I know Prince Barin. You want me to write a note to him?”

“Yes,” said Azura.

Flash wrote on the paper, and then looked up with pleasurable anticipation. “Now what?”

She thought a moment. “ ‘I am once again on Mongo, and have been captured by Queen Azura.’ ”

Flash’s hand trembled.

“Well?” snapped Azura. “Write!”

“But—” Flash shrugged and wrote.

“Now,” said Azura. “Write this. ‘With me is a visitor from Earth, a young boy. The two of us have been sentenced to death.’ ”

Flash’s face tightened. His eyes were woeful. Tears came into them. “Queen Azura, would you kill me and Willie? Would you?”

“Oh, stop sniveling and write,” demanded Azura. “You want me to box your ears?”

Flash trembled and wrote.

She frowned. “Now write: ‘You and you alone can save us from a terrible death by surrendering yourself to Queen Azura of Azuria, the Kingdom of Blue Magic.’ ”

Flash’s face was covered with perspiration. “But Queen Azura, Prince Barin will never come. He knows you’ll kill him if he does.”

“He’ll come,” snapped Azura. “And then I’ll have him where I want him. What does it matter to you, Flash? You’ll be safe. You and that teenage boy. You’ll be safe, no matter what; it’s Prince Barin I want now.”

“I thought you wanted me,” Flash said slowly. He played with the pen and ink.

“Who’d want a trembling coward?” Queen Azura asked tauntingly.

“Why do you want Prince Barin?”

Azura leaned over the table and grabbed Flash’s hand. “Write what I said,” she snapped. “No more questions.”

Shaking, Flash wrote what she had told him to.

She took the sheet, read it, and nodded, satisfied. “Now write: ‘As soon as you have appeared before Queen Azura, Flash Gordon and the Earth boy will be released, but come alone.’ ”

Weeping, Flash wrote the rest of the letter.

Queen Azura picked it up, glanced at it, and made him sign it. “Good boy,” she said. “Very good boy.”

Flash smiled through his tears.

“And I’ll have Prince Barin in chains. Without him, the entire Free Council of Mongo will disintegrate, and then Ming and I will rule Mongo!”

Azura backed away and stared at Flash Gordon, the triumph making her heart beat fast and the blood rush into her face. She had been indiscreet in mentioning phase two, and the man involved in phase two, but it did not matter now—now that she had the note that would act as the catalyst.

“Ming?” quivered Flash Gordon. “But Ming was killed in the war between Mingo and Arboria six years ago.”

“Oh, yes,” said Azura. “Ming the Merciless indeed was killed.”

“He had no offspring,” Flash said carefully.

“None for the planet of Mongo to know,” Azura said complacently. She folded her arms across her breast and stared contemptuously at Flash Gordon.

“Ming’s son is here?” Flash asked anxiously.

“Forget it,” ordered Azura. “I’m tired of all these questions.”

“What good will it do to destroy Prince Barin’s Free Council of Mongo?”

“Power, Flash,” cried Azura. “For centuries, my people have been relegated to the subterranean regions of the planet, spurned and alienated from the peoples above. Never have we been given a voice in ruling the planet of Mongo. We have always hidden here in the dark like outcasts of the lowest order.

“I have had enough of this kind of subservience. I want to live on this planet like all the other free peoples do, free to walk about and not skulk in the dark down here in this nether world.”

Azura walked back and forth, and she could feel the rage well up in her.

“But why not cooperate with Prince Barin?” Flash asked. “He’s a reasonable man. Be part of the Free Council, Queen Azura.”

“Barin is a tyrant!” screamed Azura. “We have had nothing but trouble with him and the council. We’re going to destroy them all!”

“We?” Flash repeated. “You—and the son of Ming?”

Azura wheeled on him. “We,” she said softly.

There was a rap on the far door. Queen Azura turned toward it and said crossly, “Who is it?”

“Qilp,” cried the dwarf. “I’ve got him!”

Queen Azura only then remembered that she had sent Qilp out after his cousin. Confused, she turned to Flash and then made up her mind.

“Come in,” she called out. As she turned back to Flash, she smiled faintly.

The door opened and Qilp came running in, his bald head gleaming in the faint light. Behind him there was a movement in the doorway and than a tall man, deep-chested and boasting a powerful physique, stepped into the queen’s chambers.

Azura watched Flash’s face.

Flash had turned his head to watch Qilp, and now his eyes fell on the strapping man who had followed Qilp in.

“It’s unbelievable!” he gasped. His face went pale. “Ming!”

Azura nodded. She knew how closely Ming the Second resembled his late father in all aspects, except for his physique, which was superior to his father’s. But the narrowed face, the Mandarin mustache, the dark liquid eyes, the thick black hair—he was Ming rejuvenated, and no mistake about it!

The Second was clad in a sleeveless leather tunic and trousers, with soft hide boots. He stood there a moment in the doorway studying Azura, and then his eyes moved to Flash Gordon.

The two men watched each other covertly for a moment. Azura was pleased to see Flash turn pale and look away after a moment’s scrutiny.

“So this is the great Earth hero,” Ming the Second said in a resonant, sneering voice that filled the queen’s apartment.

Qilp giggled and ran behind Queen Azura.

“And we’ve got you right where we want you, haven’t we?” Ming the Second continued, striding across to stand at the writing table opposite Flash.

“I knew your father,” Flash said softly.

“That’s where you and I differ,” Ming the Second snarled, his face darkening with rage. “I never even saw him.”

“I—I didn’t mean to offend you,” quivered Flash.

Ming slammed a fist onto the trestle table, almost upsetting the inkstand.

“Then don’t mention him. I hate him.” Ming backed off and put his hands on his hips, surveying Flash carefully.

“No decent man hates his father,” Flash said, his head up, his eyes for the moment defiant.

“Mine was a traitor—a traitor to me,” cried Ming the Second. “Why shouldn’t I hate him?”

“Why do you?” Flash asked calmly, trying to still the trembling in his arms and shoulders.

Ming paced restlessly around the trestle table as he spoke. He seemed unable to stand in one place for long, or to sit at all. He seemed the kind of man who always had to be on the move, always on the attack, always in the grip of his aggressions.

“He sired me by one of the slave ladies in the Kingdom of Blue Magic, and never took me to the palace of Mingo to rear me,” complained Ming, his deep voice echoing in the queen’s apartment. “I was brought up a captive here in this darkened subterranean kingdom—with that for a cousin!” Ming flung his hand contemptuously out toward Qilp.

Qilp capered and giggled and jumped up and down. He stuck out his tongue, and ducked behind Queen Azura. “Ming the Great, Ming the Great!” Qilp yelped in a parrotlike cackle.

Ming took a step toward the dwarf, his hand cocked menacingly.

Azura slapped at Ming’s hand. “Watch your temper, Ming,” she said softly. “Don’t forget that I’m your queen and that you take orders from me.”

Ming turned to stare blindly at her, rage contorting the muscles in his throat. Finally, he regained a semblance of control.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said sarcastically. He turned on Flash. “The son of Ming, brought up far from the court where Ming the Merciless ruled. Brought up in exile, with this deformed monster as blood kin. Reared secretly, with only nurses and my slave mother in attendance. Bah! The son of an emperor—and growing up like any other child in a foreign land. Do you wonder why I hate my father?”

Flash shrugged. “He was still your father.”

“Was,” corrected Ming the Second. “Yes. And now I am as good as he ever was—yet I do not rule my kingdom, do I?”

“Whose fault is that?” asked Flash.

“It is not mine, Earthling. Not Ming’s. It is the fault of this miserable Prince Barin, who has made subjects of all the peoples of Mongo. It is he who has usurped the country that was mine.”

“Prince Barin has brought peace to Mongo,” Flash said stolidly.

“Peace?” asked Ming. “What kind of peace is it to have all nations bow and scrape to Arboria and the weakling who rules it?” Ming whirled about and paced the length of the queen’s chambers, glowering and silent.

“It will not be long,” Azura said softly.

“No?” challenged Ming, turning on her and giving her a scathing look.

“I promise you,” said Azura, her anger rising like a lump in her throat. “I promise you we will win.”

Ming gestured with his hand and turned to Flash with a sardonic grin. “Women talk, men fight. All I’ve had since I’ve been a captive in this miserable kingdom is talk, talk, talk. And”—his eyes narrowed—“love and romance—the sick little things that delight women. Bah! Gordon, you’re made of better stuff. You know why I’m wasting my time here, don’t you? Because the time will soon come—”

“The time is now,” interjected Azura.

Ming checked himself and turned slowly on her. There was a murderous look in his eyes. “Queen,” he said, “I don’t believe you, anymore than I’ve believed you for the past six years with your promises, promises, promises!”

Azura strode angrily to the trestle table and picked up the letter Flash had written.

“I’ve got Prince Barin on a hook, Ming. He must come here to free Flash Gordon. When he’s here, well kill him.”