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Ten Lunar Years of Solitude (continued . . .)

















	














After he had had a long conversation with the mystery caller, Senator Rossi replaced the receiver.

This is fantastic! But what can I do? Except obey him!

Immediately, the senator drove out of the city in his sumptuous automobile—without, for once, his uniformed chauffeur.

After all, he has pledged to pay all my gambling debts, and save my reputation!

In a lonely part of the mountain road beyond Trigan City, Rossi stopped the vehicle. He took off his outer clothes and laid them in the driver’s seat.

I don’t see the sense of it but this is what he told me to do.

And then . . .

There it goes!

Hardly had the expensive vehicle dashed itself to scrap on the rocks far below than the sound of engines made Rossi look up.

This must be—him!

The next moment . . .

Nicely done, Excellency! And now, get in . . . animal!
























	














Early the next morning, a group of fishermen found the wreckage of the senator’s vehicle in a mountain stream.

The driver’s clothes are here!

But he never could have survived that awful drop!

The report of the disappearance of one of his most promising politicians was brought to the Emperor Trigo. 

Senator Rossi was seen leaving his villa, Imperial Majesty, and heading for the mountain road. And now—nothing but a pile of clothes!

I remind you, Imperial Majesty, that Rossi makes the eighth.

A few days later, Janno recovered consciousness after his crash.

The abandoned weather station . . . Somebody . . . Someone . . .

Easy now, Lieutenant. You need a lot of rest. Don’t tire yourself.

His half-incoherent babblings were examined by the staff of Air Fleet Headquarters. 

Janno says, and we only have his evidence, that he was fired on from the old weather station.

But the only feasible explanation, according to the computer, is that he was fired on from the ground.

That weather station has been deserted for ten lunar years.

Nevertheless, the old weather station in the stratosphere was given a cursory look-over—from a distance.

See any sign of life?

You must be joking.

But a pair of hate-filled eyes watched both aircraft leave.

Good for you! If you had stayed an instant longer, I would have destroyed you both—as I did the other!

This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 756 on 10 July 1976.

 
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Ten Lunar Years of Solitude (continued . . .)

















	














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.

 
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Ten Lunar Years of Solitude (continued . . .)

















	














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.