Flash Gordon 2 - The Plague of Sound Read Free Page A

home of Minister Minnig.” said the voice from the phone.
    “Minnig didn’t tell Zarkov he was sending a car,” said Flash to himself as he tugged on his shoes. “Or maybe Doc forgot to mention it.” He took his thermal cloak from a chair back, saying aloud, “Tell the car I’ll be right down.” He’d been on Pandor long enough to be used to talking with machines and gadgets.
    “Very good, sir.” The phone blacked out, making a faint sizzling sound as it did.
    Dale was standing in the doorway of her room when Flash came striding down the corridor. “Sure you don’t want company?” she asked him.
    “I do,” said Flash, grinning. “But Minnig told Dr. Zarkov he wanted to talk to me alone and in private. Hopefully, I’ll be back early enough for us to go somewhere for a late dinner.” He had stopped in front of the slim dark girl. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he kissed her.
    After a moment Dale said, “All right, I’ll stay here in my room and read a book until you come home.”
    As Flash went out the front door of their rented villa, the house computer said, “I hope you’ll have a pleasant evening, sir.”
    “Thanks,” said Flash over his shoulder, “same to you.”
    The fog was thick. It filled the cobblestone street, seemed to fill all the space between the ground and the night sky.
    A whir and a clicking came from the hovering air-car. “Mr. Flash Gordon, isn’t it?”
    The rear door swung open by itself. Flash saw there was a human driver in the pilot seat. “Yes. You’re from Minister Minnig?’
    “That I am, sir. Been with him since I was a wee lad. Climb in and make yourself comfortable, sir.”
    Flash eased into the vehicle and sat on the soft leather rear seat. The door slammed shut and the car rose gently up through the fog.
    “Yes, I was a little bit of a tyke when I first began working there,” continued the driver. “Well, now, I called it work, though of course my dear departed father, who was driver and pilot to the Minnig family for nigh on forty years, was only humoring me. Allowing me to tinker about a bit.” The pilot was a thickset man of about fifty, dressed in a one-piece gray suit and a matching cap.
    “You’re lucky you haven’t been replaced by a gadget,” said Flash, leaning back in his seat. “Estampa seems to be very machine-minded at the present.”
    “Ah, but what can replace a man?” asked the pilot. They were high above the city. An occasional spire or fragment of walk ramp showed through the mist. “It is my good fortune, sir, that Minister Minnig prefers to have living human beings around him.”
    The aircar flew through the night. Ten minutes later, it started dropping slowly down toward the ground. “That would be your destination, sir,” announced the pilot. “Can you make out the blue light glowing there in the fog?”
    Flash looked out. “Yes, is that the front door?”
    “It is indeed, sir.” replied the pilot. “Do you wish me to get out and help you?”
    “No need for that.” The door next to Flash popped open, swinging outward, with a click and a hum.
    “I’ll be ready to take you home whenever you wish, sir.”
    “Thanks.” Flash hopped to the walkway, and located the ramp which curved upward to the blue light. Once there, he touched the red spot in the center of the house’s door.
    Inside the house, a buzzing started. In about thirty seconds, the door rattled open. “Come in, won’t you, Mr. Gordon.”
    This was not a mechanism but a tall handsome young woman. She had long blonde hair and was wearing a short evening dress.
    “Is Minister Minnig in?”
    “Yes, he’s expecting you,” she said, stepping back so he could enter the foyer.
    Mist spilled in with Flash, drifting across the faintly glowing yellow floor. “You’re—?” Flash said. Zarkov hadn’t mentioned anything about willowy young girls with platinum hair.
    “Glenna Minnig,” she said, with a smile. “I’m the minister’s daughter. Come along