The Trigan Republic (continued . . .)




Puzzled, Marshal Zeros sent for the merchant Scarpa and questioned him about the statue. But surely you know, Marshal. Your messenger paid me for it yesterday, and ordered it to be erected here last night! Zeros dismissed the merchant without any further comment . . . and gazed thoughtfully at the statue. Who paid for it . . . and on whose orders was it brought here? Well . . . I shall find out soon enough, I doubt not! And then . . . joy of ownership overcame all his scruples. Until then, you shall grace my garden and delight my eyes, proud warrior! Some days passed. His fellow-consuls Brag and Peric visited him. Old Peric commented caustically. Hmmm! Throwing your money around again, I see! Zeros said nothing! Then one morning, the Marshal took off for his usual early flight. The Marshal handles his craft like a veteran! Still the finest pilot in the Air Fleet, despite his age! Later—high over the barren plain of Vorg—his engine spluttered and died. He glanced at the fuel gauge. Empty! With masterly skill, he brought his craft down in a glide on to the plain.
As he climbed out, the roar of engines filled his ears. What craft is that? It landed close by. Three men got out . . . and one of them addressed him blandly. Good morning, Marshal. My name is Yorro. I have wanted to meet you for a long time . . . and I regret if my arrangements to do so have caused you any inconvenience! Marshal Zeros glared furiously at Yorro. What do you mean? I mean that I arranged for your craft to be emptied of fuel. I can arrange most things . . . as you will discover! Why have we met? I will tell you. Because you are going to help me become the Dictator of the Trigan Republic! Zeros’ scornful reply died in his throat. You must be mad! Why, I . . . Silence! You are completely in my power! You have already betrayed your people by accepting my bribe of a priceless statue! With a bellow of fury, the Marshal hurled himself at his tormentor . . . but . . . By all the demons in Daveli! I’ll smash you . . . Aaaaah! Strike him down! Yorro’s brutal bodyguards sent the veteran warrior sprawling. Now, you old fool . . . you will listen to me . . . and you will do exactly as I order!

This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 406 on 25 October 1969.

 

The Deadly Formula (continued . . .)




The blade of the doublehanded war sword was already descending . . . when the Lokan crumpled up and pitched forward on his face! Uuuuuhhh! And then . . . By all the stars! Look! Daveli warriors! They came charging out of the jungle, weapons flashing through the air . . . the splendid warriors of Daveli, staunch allies of the Trigan Empire! As he scrambled to his feet, Trigo saw the Lokan leader racing for the nearest atmosphere craft. He’s got the formula! Moments later, the craft swept low over the clearing. Trigo vaulted into the second craft. If he gets away with that formula, the planet is doomed! The Lokan had spotted his pursuer, and was in the mood for a fight. As Trigo took his craft up in a swift climb, his quarry came down in a screaming dive, guns blazing!
Trigo’s instrument panel dissolved into a mass of scrap metal, and he was instantly enveloped in flames. He’s got me! Through the flames, he saw his enemy ahead of him. Only one thought dinned in Trigo’s brain . . . and he deliberately steered the doomed craft towards his adversary! For the sake of the planet Elekton! They met with shattering force above the tumbling waters of the broad river! Trigo was thrown clear, and the shock of the icy waters instantly revived him. Suddenly he saw the limp form of his enemy floating past . . . and he reached out to grab him. By this time the Daveli warriors had overpowered the Lokans and freed Brag and Janno. They all gathered round as Trigo brought his burden ashore. But what about the formula? Gone! Lost for ever in the rapids! No man will ever set eyes on it again! Later, back in Trigan City, wise old Peric gave the Emperor his assurances. It is of no consequence, Trigo. It will take a long time . . . years perhaps . . . but I can re-work the formula. Trigo was silent for a while before replying. No, old friend! We have learned our lesson. The planet came very close to destruction. From now on, the Trigan Empire will keep the peace of Elekton without the formula!

This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 402 on 27 September 1969.