The advanced science and technology of the planet Elekton had its inevitable drawbacks—such as how to dispose of large quantities of poisonous, radioactive industrial waste material. They finally came up with the ultimate solution—space disposal. Disposal unit airborne! The disposal units filled with waste were intended to orbit the planet in outer space for eternity, in perfect safety. By a multi-million mischance—DISASTER! Emergency! Emergency! Two units have collided! News of the happening was flashed round the planet—in secret! Strict security silence to be maintained! Or there will be widespread panic of the populations! Alert all heads of states . . . An emergency conference has been called . . . An emergency conference of all the states on Elekton was held in Trigan City. The delegates were addressed by the planet’s top scientist, Peric. The contents of the two units will eventually land on the surface of Elekton, widely distributed. In short, the entire planet is at risk of deadly contamination . . . Questions were asked including the question uppermost in all minds . . . What will be the nature of the contamination? What effect will it have upon our peoples? That I cannot tell, since the combined effect of the two different types of waste contained in the two units is impossible to determine . . . One thing we know . . . the effect is bound to be cataclysmic! The delegate from Tharv had a proposal . . . I suggest that we immediately recruit a secret force to monitor the situation and be prepared to go anywhere on the planet, at an instant’s notice, to deal with emergencies. The Emperor Trigo supported this proposal. We will call for volunteers from the armed forces, for special hazardous duties of a secret nature.That same day, a notice appeared at the Trigan Air Fleet base. Janno and his fellow-pilots Keren and Roffa were among the first to see it. What’s this—they want volunteers for a nasty job! Well, what do you think? Anything for a change—let’s all put our names down. A lunar month passed. Early one morning, in the Vorg mountains, an old couple were picking a wild plant greatly esteemed by Trigans. Later, they sold the plant—called forus—in the market place of Trigan City. Lovely forus, fresh this morning! A clerk in the City Treasurer’s Office, name of Sollum, cooked some for his morning meal. They smell fine! I bet old Jarros in the flat upstairs will wish he was joining me. Some time later, Jarros from the flat upstairs called in to see his neighbour—and received the shock of his life! Are you there, Sollum, old fellow? Sollum! What are you doing? No! Aaaaaaghh!
This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 748 on 15 May 1976.
