The Winged Men of Orcon
A Complete Novelette
By David R. Sparks
Far out at the edge of the Universe
two scientists play a game of
wits—Earth to the winner.
CHAPTER I
The Wrecked Space-Ship
When I came to, it wasdark; so dark that thenight seemed all butfluid with black pigment.Breathing was difficult, butin spite of that, however, I feltexhilarated mentally.Also I feltstrong, strongerthan I ever hadin my life before.I tried toraise my hands, and found that Iwas handcuffed.
I lay sprawled out on a sharplycanted floor of metal, and fromoutside the house, or whatever itwas I was in, I could hear thescreeching and howling of thewind. I touched my face with myfettered hands, and the act gaveme a feeling ofcomfort, for thescar on my cheekwas still thereand I knew thatI was myself.
A flash of blue light played about our ship.[55]Twisting around, I sat up, andwith great difficulty drew a lighterfrom my trousers pocket. Theflame glimmered up. I knew thenthat I was lying in the controlroom of a great flying machine!
All about me I saw crumpledhuman forms clad in glisteninggray flying jumpers. It was very,very hot. I thought I caught thesound of waves crashing on ashore. Through a broken portblustered a hot wind laden withan odd odor suggestive of garlicand kelp. It was just as dark outsideas in. I stirred about a bit,and found that I was in goodshape except for the handcuffs.
A low moan came from behinda bulkhead door at one end of thecontrol room. I listened, and againthe sound was repeated. With thelighter still flickering in myhands, I got to my feet. Thebulkhead door was jammed, but Ifound a heavy telargeium spanner-wrenchon the floor, and with astrength which frightened me—astrength which could have comeonly by some upset condition ofgravitation—I soon crashed the dooropen. I had no sooner done it,however, than I forgot about themoan which had fetched me.
What I saw first, hangingon a hook on one wall, wasa bunch of keys, one of which[56]readily opened the lock of myhandcuffs. Then there was a long-barrelled,gleaming atomic gun,undamaged, and a couple of thenew cold-ray flashlights. Free, Icaught up one of the flashlights,and placed back on their hook thekeys which had opened the cuffs.Then I stooped over each corpse,and confirmed my first impressionthat two of the dead men werestrangers to me, but that I halfrecognized one.
The vaguely familiar man wasclad, under his gray jumper, inthe uniform of a rear admiral ofthe U. S. W. Upper Zone PatrolDivision. He wore a medal of highhonor, the Calypsus medal. Iknew that he was WellingtonForbes, the man who had defeatedthe planet Calypsus three yearsbefore.
Wellington Forbes! And I withhim!
I think I may be excused mytemporary forgetfulness of themoan which had brought me toForbes' death chamber. Uppermostin my mind was the manne