In Trigan City, the green fog cleared away as quickly as it had come. Dazed and shocked, the people gazed at the devastation that was being wrought upon the capital.

The fungus has been gathered again!

But it will grow again in no time!

The Emperor and his advisors inspected the damage.

See, Sire. Even your Imperial Palace cannot last much longer at this rate. Another lunar year of this fungus and the whole city will be lying in rubble!

Another grave matter lay heavily on Trigo’s mind . . .

And what of my nephew?

I fear, Sire, that Janno may well have met his end in the service of the state!

But Janno lived. Far below the city, he was confronting the leader of his captors.

You say the Trigans are trying to destroy you! Why, the Trigans do not even know you exist!

I will show you what I mean . . . come! . .

In a great cavern nearby, Janno looked up to see massive clumps of the familiar growth hanging from the rocky walls.

The green fungus!

Aye! The miracle food that has sustained our people for countless generations!

The strange leader took a handful of the fungus . . .

Recently, there has been a sickness on the fungus. Its food value has deteriorated to a degree where it has become almost useless!























But—what’s that to do with us?

Pollution!

Waste gases from your air-craft, your autos, your foul machinery! The chemicals that you pour away into the ground!

The rock upon which our fungus grows is the same rock of which Trigan City is built. We are now growing a new strain of the fungus in the sunlight—your sunlight—and it is thriving!

But—the green fungus is destroying Trigan City!

Yes! And we rejoice in the irony of it!—It is our revenge!

Later, in another vast cavern, Janno was shown another secret . . .

Behold!—the means by which we cast a fog of blindness over Trigan City, to conceal our activities . . .

With the aid of a lever, the huge boulder was lifted slightly. Instantly, a rushing mass of green gas issued from the hole beneath and soared up on high.

It is a volcanic gas that we harness to our use! Released, it seeps to the city, by way of underground corridors, ancient water-courses, sewers, cellars—and remains there, blinding everything, till the sunlight destroys it!

The green fog!

Janno had heard all he needed to know. With one bound, the young Trigan made his bid for freedom!

Hah!

Uuuuuh!

His way was clear!

After him!—He must not escape!

This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 738 on 6 March 1976.

With the green gloom still swirling about them, some of the alien creatures carried the stricken Trigan to the entrance of a disused sewer.

Far below the streets of the capital city, they bore their senseless burden, through long-abandoned corridors hewn out of ancient rock.

Presently, they emerged in a vast hall that resembled some kind of barbaric temple to forgotten gods. There, Janno’s captors laid him at the feet of he who was their leader.

Later, Janno opened his eyes to stare about him in awe and wonderment. Was he dreaming? Were those voices?

The tall figure looming over Janno addressed him in the common tongue of the planet Elekton.

So! You have recovered.

Who are you?

We are descendants of the Dryaks, an ancient and civilised people who inhabited this area long before the Trigans were dreamed of, long before even the Vorg peoples from whom the Trigans are descended were dreamed of . . .

The leader continued, and Janno saw it all in his mind’s eye . . .

“. . . On these hills, upon which now stands Trigan City, once stood a city more fair and splendid than this planet has ever known since. A city famed throughout Elekton for the wisdom and splendour of its inhabitants!”























“Tragically, that splendour was doomed to extinction. From out of the setting suns they came—the barbarians!”

Death to the dryaks!

Trample them and their city to the dust!

“The Dryaks, softened by a long age of peace, were no match for the invaders. Such as escaped the holocaust took refuge in the underground sewers and water-courses.”

“With no other means of sustenance, the wretched survivors were forced to eat of a rank-tasting fungus that grew from the underground rocks.”

Eat, my darling — eat, and live!

I’m hungry. I want some real food!

“By a miracle, the fungus provided a perfect balanced diet. Unable to venture forth into the sunlight, the survivors decided to make their underground world habitable, they built houses and temples to their gods.”

The speaker paused in his tale and Janno interposed a question.

Are you trying to tell me that the Dryaks, and you, their descendants, have been down here all those long ages before recorded history?

Yes! And never stirred forth into the sunlight during all those countless centuries.

Not until you accursed Trigans sought to destroy us!

. . . In return for which, we will destroy your city and you with it!

This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 737 on 28 February 1976.

Next morning, the planet’s newspapers screamed—Chorpinal kidnapped—Elekton’s greatest living composer snatched from the liner “Emperor Trigo” while on his way to conduct his newest symphony.

Peric was at the Imperial Palace soon after dawn.

His Imperial Majesty is not to be disturbed!

Stand aside. My business won’t wait!

Trigo was at sword practice.

Imperial Majesty, I tried to . . .

Good morning, Peric. It must be an important matter to bring you here so early.

It is, Sire!

I request that you designate me, by Imperial Proclamation, as Supreme Scientist of Elekton.

Well, by all the stars!

The Emperor was wryly amused.

And you such a modest individual. You are undoubtedly the greatest scientist alive, but do we have to thrust it down the throat of every other scientist on the planet?

It is not for myself I ask it, Majesty, but part of my plan to get to the bottom of these thefts and kidnappings . . .

Is it, indeed!

Yes, Sire. I will explain . . .

Peric’s explanation was so satisfactory to Trigo that a special ceremony took place the same day, to which all the scientists within call were hastily summoned.

Whose idea was this? Meaningless mumbo-jumbo.

Surely not the Emperor’s? And Peric would never have the impudence to suggest it.

Peric, in appreciation of your great works for the cause of scientific progress, I grant you the title of Supreme Scientist of Elekton.























The ceremony over, Peric took himself to his villa in the suburbs, where he relaxed.

And now . . . to wait!

He did not have long to wait. That same evening . . .

The great scientist did not turn a hair when they burst in on him.

Good evening, gentlemen. I’ve been expecting you.

They took him away.

Not far away, in a pleasant valley beyond the city limits, a sumptuous mansion standing in secluded grounds . . .

He was taken into the palatial dwelling and brought before its owner.

We have him, master.

This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 728 on 27 December 1975.