Posted on November 8, 2025November 8, 2025The Gambler’s Gift (continued . . .) That year’s Empire Day celebrations included a spectacular close-formation aerobatic display by Janno’s former comrades of the Air Fleet. As they flashed over the crowd . . . . . . Janno watched from his place in the Imperial box. A splendid display. Who’s the formation leader ? Keren. It could have been me. Janno’s father, Brag, was well aware of the bitter misery that threatened to destroy his son’s whole life. The next morning, at breakfast, Brag spotted an item in the newspaper. Here’s something that should interest you, Janno. The picture and the news item told of a miracle-working healer who had seemingly cured a lifelong cripple. It’s obviously a hoax. These fellows crop up from time to time. They cheat a few simple-minded folk out of their hard-earned money, and then disappear. On the Vorg sea coast . . . living in a fisherman’s cottage. I’ll have some enquiries made about this fellow. Hey ! Where are you going, Janno ? In no time, Janno was driving at full speed for the Vorg sea coast. A chance to be cured ! To be able to fly again ! I’m going to grab at it with both hands ! In a humble coastal village, Nastor, a gambler had gained an undeserved reputation for faith-healing. The simple fisher-folk showed their gratitude by gifts of money. And how is the little fellow faring ? Much better since you’ve been seeing him, sir. Suddenly, the crowd fell back in awe. Can you cure me also, sir ? It’s Lord Janno ! The Emperor’s nephew ! He was injured in a crash, wasn’t he ? Well, can you cure me ? I can try, my son. The following day, Nastor the ex-gambler who had been struck by lightning, became a nationwide celebrity. Thanks to the patronage of the Imperial family, the obscure faith-healer from a slum fishing village has rocketed to fame. From all over the Empire and beyond, wealthy sick people are bidding to be his patients. Nastor rejoiced. I’ve made it ! Fame and riches at last ! This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 721 on 8 November 1975.
Posted on November 1, 2025November 1, 2025The Gambler’s Gift (continued . . .) An instant before impact, Janno’s sixth sense made him hit the escape button . . . Seconds later the high-tension wires blew the plane to pieces. The result was inevitable—a court martial. You are indicted on two counts. Firstly, you did fly dangerously and without due caution. Secondly, you did fly while knowing yourself to be medically unfit. How do you plead to these two charges ? Guilty to both, sir. In view of your excellent record, no further disciplinary action will be taken. But you are removed from the list of air fleet pilots. Never to fly again . . . Never ! What am I going to do ? Meanwhile, in the fishing village on the coast, the gambler Nastor, now recovered from his accident, was continuing with his “faith-healing” among the simple fisher folk. How is the little fellow ? Much better, sir. Every time you see him, he improves. Alone, Nastor was quite frank with himself. No one ever gets better, but it makes them feel better, to be in contact with me. A pity it can’t go on for much longer, because it’s more profitable than being an unsuccessful gambler, but they’ll see through me in the end. He tested again the strange power that had followed his being struck by lightning. But the way I can attract metals as if by magnetism . . . that’s genuine enough ! One day, Nastor chanced upon a vagabond and immediately an idea sprang into his mind. See here, fellow, do you want to earn yourself a few zersts ? Certainly, good sir— provided I don’t have to work for it. Working’s against my conscience, you see. That evening, when Nastor received his “patients”, the vagabond limped forward on crutches . . . I’ve been crippled since birth, sir, and they say you can cure me. We’ll do what we can, friend. He laid his hand on the vagabond’s shoulder. Did we say ten zersts or twenty ? We said ten. I’ve changed my mind. It’s worth twenty ! Indeed, Nastor got twenty zersts’ worth of excellent acting. I can walk ! I’m cured . . . cured ! There were tourists present in the village that day. One of them—a Trigan City newspaperman on holiday—made a visual record of the event. I’ll get a picture of this. We could use it in the paper. This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 720 on 1 November 1975.
Posted on October 25, 2025October 31, 2025The Gambler’s Gift (continued . . .) The fishermen dragged the half- conscious form from the surf. Later, Nastor opened his eyes to find a row of honest faces looking down on him. Here, friend, take a little gruel. It will make you strong again. A couple of days later, Nastor felt strong enough to try and feed himself. He reached out for a spoon . . . There ! See how much better you are, friend. And the spoon hung suspended in the air ! Aaaaaaaah ! The superstitious fisher-folk thought they had the answer to this strange phenomenon. He is a miracle- worker ! One of the wise ones ! I knew of such a one when I was a lad. He could cure all manner of sicknesses ! Within a few days, the news had spread among the simple people of the coast. A long line of patient figures queued outside the cottage where Nastor lay. Touch my son and make him well again, sir. I beg of you. All the people asked of Nastor was the touch of his hand or a few words of comfort, then they departed happily, leaving behind a few coins or some food. I feel better already, sir. I’m pleased to hear it. The simple folk would have been surprised to know the thoughts that were passing through the “wise one’s” mind. I don’t know how long these stupid fools are going to treat me like some kind of god, but I’ll stay here until I get my strength back and at the same time make some money on the side. Meanwhile, in Trigan City Air Fleet base, Janno was making one last desperate bid to continue his career as a pilot. Janno, you’re in no fit state to fly with those blinding headaches. Why not take a year’s leave and get fit again. I’m better, I tell you, Keren ! And I’ll prove it . . . today ! Janno’s proof of his fitness to fly was a demonstration of low-level aerobatics that had the whole base staring in awe. But, in the cockpit . . . Aaaaah ! My head ! The agony ! Blinded by the pain, Janno never saw his peril . . . He’s going to crash into the high-tension wires ! This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 719 on 25 October 1975.
