Captain Future 22 - Children of the Sun (May 1950) Read Free Page A

me talk to them.”
    He faced down the slope toward the fern jungle. He called out in the language he had learned on his first visit to this lost world — a debased form of the once-beautiful language of the Old Empire, sunk now into barbarism like the men who spoke it.
    “Show us your faces, my brothers! We come as friends and our hands are empty of death!”
    There was utter silence. In the distance the fading shaft of sunlight lay like a tarnished sword across the dusk. The dense jungle below was untouched by wind or motion of any kind. Even the beasts were stilled by that strong human voice, speaking out across the desolation.
    Newton did not speak again. He waited. He seemed to have endless patience, and complete assurance. After a time, half furtively and yet with a curious and touching pride, a man came out of the jungle and looked up at them.
    He was clad in garments of white leather and his skin was white and the falling mane of his hair was white and his eyes were pale as mist. His only weapons were a knife and a spear.
    In his carriage, in the fine modeling of his head, Newton could still see lingering traces of the heritage that had given the men of the Old Empire supremacy over two galaxies. And it seemed sad that this man should look up at him with the shy feral untrusting eyes of a wild thing.
    Simon Wright said quietly, “Do you not know him, Curtis?”
    “Of course.” In the Vulcanian dialect Newton said, “Is the memory of Kah so short that he does not know his brothers?”
    They had had dealings with Kah before. He was lord over a third of the tribes of Vulcan and had proved a man of his word, aiding the Futuremen in many ways. But now the suspicious catlike eyes studied them, utterly without warmth or welcome.
    “Kah remembers,” said the man softly. “The name of the great one is Grag — and you are the flame-haired one who leads.”
    Behind him, by twos and threes, his men gathered silently at the foot of the slope. They were all the same tall snow-haired stock, wearing the white leather, bearing the sharp spears. They watched, and Newton saw that their eyes dwelt in wonder upon the towering Grag. He remembered that they had been much impressed by Grag before.
    Kah said abruptly, “We have been friends and brothers, and therefore I have stayed my hand. This place is sacred and forbidden. Leave it while you still live.”
    Newton answered steadily, “We cannot leave. We seek a friend who came here and was lost.”
    The Vulcanian chieftain voiced a long, harsh Ah-h! and every man with him lifted his spear and shook it.
    “He entered the forbidden place,” said Kah, “and he is gone.”
    “Gone? You mean he’s dead?”
    Kah’s hands shaped an age-old ritual gesture. Newton saw that they trembled. The Vulcanian turned and pointed to the fading Beam, which was to him a symbol of godhead.
    “He has gone there!” Kah whispered, “along the path of light. He has followed the Bright Ones, who do not return.”
    “I do not understand you, Kah!” said Newton sharply. “Is the body of my friend in this buried place? What happened? Speak more clearly.”
    “No, I have talked too much of forbidden things.” Kah raised up his spear. “Go now! Go — for I have no wish to slay!”
    “You cannot slay, Kah, for your spears will not fly this far. And the great one called Grag will be as a wall against your coming.”
    Rapidly, under his breath, Newton spoke to the robot. “Keep them back, Grag!, They can’t harm you, and it’ll leave us free to dig.”
     
    CLANKING ponderously down the slope, a terrifying gigantic form in the dusk, Grag advanced on the Vulcanians. And Newton cried aloud to Kah, “We will not leave this place until we have found our friend!”
    Kah flung his spear. It fell short by no more than two paces but Newton did not stir. The Vulcanian drew back slowly before the oncoming Grag, who spread out his mighty arms and roared and made the ground tremble under his