The Trigan Empire

With his doomed craft in flames and the ground coming up to meet him at supersonic speed, Janno pressed the escape button.

But . . .

I’m going to hit that hightension cable!

ZZZZZKKK-K-K-KK!

They found him later.

Is he? . .

As near as makes no difference!

In fact, Janno did not die. And, after an examination of his craft’s wreckage, a report was made to his uncle the emperor.

The craft was fired upon, you say?—Fired upon by whom?

That, Imperial Majesty, only Janno can tell us, when he recovers . . .























. . . If he recovers!

Another matter for your attention, Imperial Majesty. While enquiring into the strange disappearance of Marshal Rossu, our computers have come up with a series of most remarkable coincidences . . .

Explain yourself, Colonel.

See, Imperial Majesty—there have been no less than seven other disappearances in the last lunar month.

You are surely not suggesting some connection? What possible link exists between the Marshal of the Trigan Air Fleet and . . . for instance . . . a beggar?

The circumstances of the disappearances provides the only link so far, Imperial Majesty . . .

All seven persons were seen, apparently hale and hearty, immediately prior to vanishing . . .

And all left their outer clothing behind.

Rossi was the youngest senator the Empire had ever known, and tipped for Supreme Minister before he was much older.

Do not wait for me. I will find my own way home.

Yes, Excellency.

Rossi had—a certain weakness . . .

Gambling was his passion. He played badly and staked recklessly.

Fool that I am, I’m ruined . . . ruined!

But help was at hand. As soon as Rossi arrived home, he had a call.

 . . . Listen carefully . . .

Who are you?

That is immaterial, Excellency. I am a friend. I am willing to pay off all your gambling debts—in return for a simple service that you must perform for me . . .

This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 755 on 3 July 1976.

It happened in the great square of Trigan City in broad daylight . . .

Spare a coin for an old soldier, master.

Don’t pester me, fellow!

Second thoughts.

I was harsh to that beggar . . . after all, he did fight for his country.

By all the stars!—He’s vanished!

There was only a pile of ragged clothing—that, and a handful of small coins!

All that’s left of him! This is—fantastic!

Meanwhile—at Air Fleet base . . .

Alarm! Alarm! All interceptor craft get airborne! Unidentified intruder in sector red-zero-zero!

Janno led the dash to the waiting interceptors.

Every pilot had his own altitude in which to operate. Janno’s was at the very highest—in the sub-stratosphere.

Approaching operational height now  . . . nothing in sight . . .























And then—Janno saw a tell-tale ‘blip’ on his screen.

Contact ahead!  . . . and it’s high up . . . in the stratosphere!

Up—up—up—the intrepid pilot followed his quarry. And then he saw . . . IT . . . and experienced a pang of disappointment.

It was only an echo from that old abandoned weather station!

Better get down to my operational height. This craft isn’t fit to operate for more than a very short while in the stratosphere.

A pair of eyes watched Janno from the seemingly deserted city in space.

BLAM!—BLAMM!—explosive projectiles slammed into the little interceptor!

By all the stars . . .

Aflame and out of control, Janno had only one thought . . .

Elekton’s gravitational pull is strong enough to take me down—but will the craft burn out and me with it before we reach the ground?

This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 754 on 26 June 1976.

The Air Fleet base near Trigan City was a scene of colourful activity. An inspection by no less than Marshal Rossu, chief of the mighty Trigan Air Arm.

It was the occasion of the Emperor’s birthday. The Marshal paused for a word with the Emperor’s nephew, Janno.

Ah, Lieutenant Janno. You will, of course, be attending the reception at the palace after the fly-past. Join me after we land, and accompany me in my automobile.

Yes, Excellency. Thank you.

Later, led by Marshal Rossu’s all-red fighting craft, Janno and his companions flew in tight formation over the Imperial Palace . . .

. . . where the Emperor Trigo took the salute.

After the fly-past, the Marshal’s craft was first to land.























And then, as it came to a halt . . .

Hey! Where’s the pilot?

The Marshal! He—he’s disappeared!

Nothing here but his flying kit!

News was brought to the Emperor.

He can’t have disappeared!

It’s true, Uncle! One instant his Excellency was at the controls, the next there was nothing left but his helmet and gravity-suit.

The Air Fleet High Command held an enquiry some days later. Ten mechanics gave evidence and all told the same tale.

You were the first to point out that there was no pilot in the craft as it taxied to a halt?

Yes, sir. And when we looked inside, he’d vanished!

Other enquiries—of a more confidential nature—were made at the Emperor’s orders. But to no avail.

The Marshal has a happy family life. His financial affairs are in good order, his health excellent. There is no reason, in the opinion of the secret police, why he should choose to disappear.

Then he must have been taken by force, unwillingly. But . . . how?

That morning, at the other side of the city, the owner of a weapons shop made a casual remark to his assistant.

I shall be in my office if you require me.

Yes, sir.

Some time later . . .

‘Scuse me, sir. A gentleman here wants to buy a . . .

By all the stars!

What’s the matter?

My boss has vanished, that’s what! And left his clothes behind!

This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 753 on 19 June 1976.