Despot in Space Read online

  DESPOT IN SPACE

  DONALD S. ROWLAND

  © Donald S. Rowland 1973

  Donald S. Rowland has asserted his rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988 to be identified as author of this work.

  First Published in 1973 by Robert Hale Ltd.

  This edition published in 2017 by Venture Press, an imprint of Endeavour Press Ltd.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter One

  ‘The door is locked, Professor,’ Ethne Stound said as she settled herself at the desk in the outer office. Her beautiful blue-grey eyes narrowed as she glanced towards the lead-lined laboratory door. She knew exactly what had been accomplished to date in the experiments of Professor Rez Condor — the official experiments — but she was concerned by this unknown work he had undertaken without the knowledge and the sanction of the World Security Section. It was instant death for anyone, even someone as brilliant as Professor Condor, to attempt anything that was not approved by the Technology Department. But both Ethne and Condor were members of the inner circle of scientists who were endeavouring to bring about the downfall of Abelard Aubin, the World Master.

  ‘Thank you, Ethne! Set the recorder working. I’ll tape all details as I continue.’ Condor’s hard voice grated metallically over the communication system.

  ‘Don’t forget that you have an appointment with the Group at three this afternoon,’ the girl warned.

  ‘I’ll be through in here before then,’ Condor retorted. He tried to clear his mind of preoccupation as he walked across the Lab towards his workbench. He knew there was no point in worrying about what would happen if the resistance group to which he belonged managed to kill Aubin. He hadn’t perfected his invention yet, and if he couldn’t get on to the World Master’s impregnable lair on the satellite Retarc in earth orbit then the rest of it didn’t matter.

  His hands trembled as he fed some figures into a computer, then adjusted an accelerometer. He had been at a dead end for days. He badly needed a breakthrough. The smallest amount of progress would give him something to report to the Group. God knew they needed some advantage with which to bolster their hopes! The years were slipping by. The whole world was groaning under the despotic rule of Abelard Aubin, who was sitting pretty in the sky behind his impregnable force fields and mass destruction weapons. The threat of instant and total extermination for most of the world population had, in this year of 2273, given an overwhelming balance of power to Aubin. His brilliant security screens ensured that no plot could succeed against him, and countless men had died or been transported because of their failure to beat the prohibitive odds against the success of any plot.

  Condor approached the Celertron, which he was bench-testing. He was a tall, powerful man of thirty-four, his brown eyes and rugged face showing a mixture of frustration and hope, his jutting jaw and compressed lips giving an accurate impression of his indomitable determination. He knew he was on the right track with this experiment. Every instinct told him so! He had a magnificent reputation in the highest scientific circles, and was at the top of his profession. He had so impressed the World Master with his achievements that he controlled one of the few departments in the world that was not regularly screened by police and security. He had in fact perfected many of the defensive measures that guarded Aubin so perfectly. But he was dedicated to the overthrow of the tyrant, and he was prepared to lay down his life in any attempt to rid the world of the despot.

  Condor pushed home an electronic contact and the air in the Lab throbbed with increasing power. The low hum emanating from the smooth bulk of the housing of his machine gave no real indication of the forces with which he was working. He suppressed a sigh as he glanced at the battery of clocks and dials on the console to his left, and he could not help wondering if this was the right way to tackle the problem with which he was faced, even if it proved to be successful!

  He knew he was subconsciously discontented, and his powerful hands clenched as he considered. No one was free anymore! Aubin had even forbidden travel between cities in his latest tightening of controls, isolating at one fell swoop the few men who might have succeeded in formulating some desperate plan for disposing of the World Master. But Condor had succeeded in bringing some of those invaluable men into his own spheres of work. Aubin had given him full powers to commandeer whatever and whoever he needed for his projects — officially intended to provide the World Master with even greater weapons for his domination of the world.

  Condor had produced a series of positive successes in the past to keep Aubin sweet, but he had never been prepared to further the ambitions of the World Master. He was grimly pleased that he was now standing on the brink of a breakthrough, that he could come up with the process that would bring to an end the terror rule of Abelard Aubin.

  The Celertron was an instrument of the finest mechanical and scientific construction for the process of accelerating charged particles to incredible speeds, and with it Condor hoped to translate material through space.

  His object, if the Celertron proved successful, was to place himself into the immediate presence of the World Master and slay him. The Celertron, with correct coordinates fed into its computer, should theoretically, translate a man through all the force fields and energy barriers with which Aubin had surrounded himself. Once inside … !

  Condor smiled thinly as he visualized the final scene with the World Master. But he dragged his thoughts from that pipe dream and got down to the realities of what he was doing. He studied a graph for long minutes. Before anything could be done he had to perfect the Celertron! Hope for the world depended upon his success here in the lonely laboratory.

  For days now a coffee cup had been in place on a metal plate at the far end of the long room, surrounded by a lead-lined shield. Condor had been trying to transport it. The distorted energy beams of the Celertron had caused strange distortions in the cup, but it seemed to Condor that he had not been using enough power in his tests. So today he had doubled the input capacity, and now he waited to see if his theory was correct.

  The instrument was seething with electron flows. Condor stepped up the power, and could sense the cyclic subatomic vortices he was producing. He checked the console, now quivering under the pressures of recording the test. Needles were flickering and jumping in their dials. Lights were flashing. The oscillograph seemed crazy, and the supporting oscilloscope was registering massive impulses.

  He looked at the input meter as the needle flickered at the red danger line. A quick glance at the solitary coffee cup on the base showed Condor that something was happening, and he felt a spurt of hope as he held his breath and waited. The cup was pulsating, surrounded by an aura of distorted energy. But he began to despair that this test too would also result in failure, and he clenched his hands and tried to will it to success. So much depended upon success!

  It seemed like an age to his taut nerves before the Celertron took maximum input, and the image of the coffee cup seemed to mock him with its continued presence. But in reality barely fifteen minutes elapsed before the crucial moment arrived. Condor let his gaze flicker over the apparatus, checking instinctively, fearing that there was going to be an explosion because of the tremendous power building up on the danger borderline. He glanced towards the cup once more, and it was gone!

  Condor stared at the empty base, unable to believe the evidence of hi
s eyes. He blinked, saw that the cup had indeed disappeared from its place, and realized that he was holding his breath. He exhaled sharply, then went forward, careful to keep out of the invisible beams the Celertron was projecting. He stared at the empty base, and convinced himself that he was not dreaming. The coffee cup had certainly gone.

  Hurrying back to the controls, Condor checked everything, recording the readings of the dials. Most of the dials were recording maximum plus. The gauges were showing flickering red lights, and an insistent bleeper was giving audible warning. Condor looked once more at the base on which the Celertron was projecting, and felt stunned by his success. He was breathless as he reached out an unsteady hand and killed the main power switch. He stood trance-like while the throbbing died to a whine then faded thinly into silence.

  He had done it! A grin touched his face, cracking the mask of tension and strain into which it had set. He ran to the end of the Lab and stuck his hand into the space where the coffee cup had been placed. His trembling fingers encountered nothing! His sight was not deceiving him. The cup was well and truly gone!

  A warning buzzer sounded and its sharp tone dispelled some of the fog which seemed to envelope his mind. He felt dazed as he went to his desk and depressed a switch on the communicator.

  ‘What is it, Ethne?’ His tones were slightly unsteady, but gave no indication of his feelings.

  ‘Professor, General Ozen is here and wants to see you. Please open the Lab door at once.’

  ‘Immediately!’ Condor responded, and a chill sensation touched his heart. Ozen was the chief of the security police, and lately he had been coming around at irregular times, using a facade of friendliness to cover his real intentions.

  Condor switched off the ‘Test in Progress’ sign that was on the outside of the heavy door, and sighed heavily as Ethne opened the door by remote control from the outside. He tried to compose himself as he left the Lab and entered the adjacent office, but he was painfully aware that his pulses were racing, his heart still pounding from the surge of elation he had experienced at the success of the test. He paused in the doorway and glanced back once more at the empty base with its surrounding protective shield, and he began to wonder whether the cup had really been in its place before the test.

  ‘Professor, I am reluctant to drag you from your vital work, but the reason I am here is of the utmost importance — a matter of security.’

  Condor looked up into the cold blue eyes of the tall, powerful man confronting him. General Herri Ozen was, at fifty, a most imposing figure in his immaculate pale blue uniform. A single row of colourful ribbon decorated the left breast of Ozen’s tunic, and the black bands on his cuffs denoted his high rank. Ozen’s pale eyes had a piercing gaze, unable to conceal the calculating brain lying behind them. He was a man to be feared because he had absolute power — could remove any person who lost favour, making an arrest without evidence, and ordering execution without trial. He was an utterly ruthless man, and had to be for his job. Abelard Aubin trusted Herri Ozen implicitly, and that said much for the security chief’s character.

  Condor tensed himself as he met the man’s hard gaze. He had been wondering for weeks what lay behind Ozen’s numerous visits. Did the general suspect the Group? Did he know that Condor himself was a leading member of the Resistance? Could he have intuitively realized that a breakthrough in the great experiment was imminent?

  ‘I am seriously concerned that another plot is being connived to overthrow the World Master!’ Ozen said, starting the small wrist recorder he was wearing.

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ Condor countered. ‘There are always plots against the World Master. That’s why I’m spending my professional life inventing and perfecting defensive weapons.’

  ‘That is so.’ Ozen smiled grimly. ‘I would hasten to add that my presence here is for nothing more than to acquaint you with the fact that the World Master desires to see you.’

  ‘When?’ The word cracked from Condor’s thin lips.

  ‘Tomorrow. I will send transport for you at ten. We’ll lift off at ten-thirty. We have to be on Retarc in time to see the Master at noon.’

  Condor nodded, filled with relief. Not many were favoured by a command to visit the Master’s orbiting lair. Not that there would be any opportunity to assassinate Aubin! The World Master lived behind defensive screens and inside force fields, safe behind power that no known weapons could overpower or penetrate. Condor had been to Retarc several times — twice to receive personal commendations for his work — but even his brilliant analytical mind had been unable to calculate any type of counter-weapon for the destruction of the man-made satellite.

  ‘I’ll be ready to leave with you,’ Condor said. ‘Is there anything else you require of me? I am on the verge of a breakthrough in my latest experiment, and I must return to my tests.’

  ‘Carry on,’ Ozen said, smiling. He turned away, moving lithely with a youthful vigour that seemed surprising considering his age, and Condor wondered how often the general availed himself of the rejuvenating process that was prepared for the minor rulers and the high grades of officials in Aubin’s administration set-up.

  With the departure of the general Condor motioned for Ethne to switch on the silence system which he had perfected. It emanated a screen around him for some fifteen feet in diameter, and it rendered impotent any listening devices within that area.

  ‘I’ve done it, Ethne,’ he said heavily as the girl stepped into the soundproof area with him. ‘It worked!’

  The girl stared into his intent face with wide green eyes. She was of good size and considerable prettiness, and the grace of her movements came from her natural youth. At twenty-four, she looked desirable in her one-piece sleeveless tunic-shorts of red and white silk. She was magnificently tanned, and her shoulder length fine blonde hair was white-streaked by the sun. She was in love with Condor to the point of distraction, and he had been aware of the fact for quite some time. But he could never permit personal thoughts or emotions to intrude upon his calculating mind. His physical desires and needs had of necessity been subjugated to his mental habits. His work was his whole life and nothing else could find power enough to distract him.

  ‘Professor, are you certain?’ The colour of her eyes seemed to change to blue-grey in the artificial light of the office, and they glistened with joy and sudden hope. Condor caught the tantalizing tang of her perfume, and tightened his lips. They had to stand together in order to remain safely within the cone of silence she had activated about them.

  ‘I was interrupted by Ozen’s visit before I could reverse the process or repeat it,’ he said. ‘But that coffee cup went.’ He snapped his long fingers. ‘Just like that!’ His voice was unsteady and his brown eyes showed the brightness of his elation. ‘Come into the Lab and we’ll check out what happened.’

  They entered the laboratory and Ethne went to his desk and flicked the switch that locked the massive door and activated the warning sign. Condor walked to the end of the long room and stood staring at the empty spot where the coffee cup had been placed on the base. The girl joined him, and after some moments of silence she looked up into his intent face.

  ‘Where is the cup now?’ she demanded.

  ‘I was afraid you’d ask that!’ He smiled and shook his head, and a sigh escaped him as he shrugged his heavy shoulders. His elation fled as his mind refilled with the problems that still had to be faced. ‘This success is just another step forward, not the ultimate one. I have to consider the whole range of problems that now come forward to meet us. I don’t know where the cup has gone to. Until now I’ve concentrated upon translating material. It appears that I have succeeded. But before I attempt to discover the whereabouts of the matter I must try to bring it back to its point of beginning.’

  ‘Reverse the process, you mean,’ she declared, quick to grasp his meaning.

  ‘That’s right.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘There’s barely enough time, but I must try to prove something before the meeting wit
h the Group.’

  ‘It will help them to know you’ve made a breakthrough,’ she said as they walked back to the bench where the Celertron was positioned.

  Condor nodded, his mind already engaged with what he had to do. He made some adjustments, and when he was ready to demonstrate what the Celertron could do he glanced at the girl, his expression showing hope.

  ‘You’d better stand back,’ he warned. ‘Everything works at maximum-plus. I’ll have to bring in more powerful equipment to obviate the danger of explosion.’

  ‘Circuit boosters might be the answer,’ she commented, and saw his smile of approval.

  Condor engaged the contacts and power began to flow into the Celertron. He moved to the console, his fingers depressing buttons and tripping toggle switches. The dials and meters flickered into life and their needles leaped towards the danger lines. Tense seconds passed and Condor notched up the power by measured degrees. The air was pulsating, the sound of power insistent in his ears. He turned his head and spoke in raised tones to the attentive girl.

  ‘Watch the platform, Ethne!’

  She nodded and gazed at the empty space inside the protective shield, and mentally crossed her fingers as a sense of unreality gripped her. The hum of power increased in crescendo to an intolerable degree, until her ears throbbed a protest at the impossible level. She heard the warning bleeper which announced the danger volume of input, and she began to fear for their lives. But she continued to watch the platform, and her mind boggled when she saw the indistinct outline of the cup reappearing slowly.

  A shimmering haze enveloped the cup, but its shape and substance became more positive, until at last it was there on the platform as solidly as if it had never been translated through space.

  Condor switched off the power and hurried to the platform, taking hold of the girl’s hand and almost dragging her along with him.