Category: Hover Autos

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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 metal 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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The Green Fog

















	














The blind beggar Uruz had sat at the base of Trigo’s statue in the great square of the city for as long as anyone could remember. One morning, Janno the Emperor’s nephew was crossing the square. As always, he dropped a coin into the beggar’s hat.

A thousand thanks, Lord Janno.

You knew who I was! Yet I never uttered a word!

So you think that I can see after all. But you are wrong, Lord Janno. Why, I know you from the sound of your footfall, from the very rustle of your uniform. My eyes are my ears!

The incident had passed from Janno’s mind by the time he reached the air fleet base, climbed into his tiny fighter craft and took off.

Calling control. Have cleared the ground. Your orders, please.

His orders took him to the stratosphere, high above the surface of Elekton, patrolling the sky frontiers of the Trigan Empire.

At about noon, people in the great square of Trigan City saw . . . IT!

Look!

What is it?

It was a wall of swirling green fog that swept across the great capital, enveloping everything . . .

It’s fantastic!

I’ve never seen such a thing before!
























	














. . . in a blanket of green blindness!

Help!

Where are you?

I can’t see a thing!

High above, Janno was shocked to hear the controller’s panic-stricken cries over his communicator.

It’s all gone green! I’m blind! Janno, for pity’s sake! . . .

What’s happening down there?

Receiving no reply, Janno brought his craft down in a screaming dive. Nearing the ground, he saw the ominous green cloud that shrouded the city.

It’s . . . unbelievable!

Even as he looked, the green murk cleared away and the capital of the Trigan Empire lay below him in all its accustomed glory.

It’s . . . gone!

The pandemonium in the city was indescribable, with crashed vehicles littering the streets, and frightened and bewildered people wandering about in shock.

It was as if the end of the world had come.

What if it happens again?

I think I shall go out of my mind!

Uruz, the blind beggar, cried out in a loud voice.

I tell you something terrible has taken place! An alien people have been amongst us.

What? Explain yourself!

His words struck a chill into the hearts of all his listeners.

While this green fog of which you speak was upon us, while you were all stumbling about like the newly-blind . . . there came amongst us some who walked with sure-footed tread, as if they could see!

This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 732 on 24 January 1976.

 
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The Man with a Mission (continued . . .)

















	
















	
	Lukaz Rann brought Vallu’s vehicle to a jarring
	halt at the cliff edge and rasped an order.

	
	Get out !

	
	Vallu’s bodyguards were
	closing in fast.

	
	Jump !

	
	Please ! Spare me !
	I’ll make you rich.
	Anything can be
	yours, if only . . .

	
	The great rocketeer thrust his
	victim over the abyss and
	followed after.

	
	Eeeeeeeeeeghh !

	
	Lukaz Rann struck the
	water and sank deeply.

	
	Vallu’s been knocked unconscious.
	I must get him to the surface
	before he drowns. I’d hate
	anything to happen to him !

	
	The bodyguards criss-crossed the area
	where the two had disappeared.

	
	No sign of
	them. They must
	have perished.

	
	But the intrepid rocketeer was alive,
	and supporting his half-drowned captive.

	
	They think
	it’s hopeless,
	and are giving
	up the search.


























	
















	
	That night, a Trigan fishing boat approached the cliffs,
	as Lukaz Rann had previously arranged.

	
	Well done,
	lads. Now
	let’s get
	out of here.

	
	Morning found the rocketeer back
	in his Vorg castle, with his second
	victim imprisoned in a dungeon.

	
	With so little time left to him, Lukaz Rann took
	up the next dossier without any delay.

	
	And now, another
	creature whose dis-
	appearance will
	sweeten the air
	of the whole
	planet . . . Yackrass !

	
	Yackrass was a rabble-rousing Trigan politician. He was also the highest paid
	performer on the Trigan audivision network. An estimated fifty million viewers
	switched on his weekly programme.

	
	Mustn’t miss old
	Yackrass. He’s always
	good for a bit of
	excitement.

	
	Yackrass’s technique was to play upon the public’s fears
	and prejudices. Currently, he was blazing a campaign
	of XENOPHOBIA—the hatred of foreigners.

	
	Fellow-citizens ! Do you realise
	that there are over half a million
	foreign nationals residing here ?
	Taking all the best jobs ! Treating
	us like second class citizens !

	
	How much longer are
	we going to tolerate
	this pollution in
	our midst ?

	
	Following Yackrass’s outburst, innocent and law-abiding foreigners—Catons, Lokans, Tharvians,
	and others—were mobbed in the streets and their properties destroyed.

	
	Down with
	the outsiders !

	
	Trigan for
	the Trigans !

	
	Yackrass had cause for self-congratulation. That
	very day, he had landed a new audivision contract
	at double his usual fee.

	
	By all the
	stars, you’re a
	clever fellow,
	my dear
	Yackrass.

	
	But retribution was
	at hand for
	the spreader of hatred.

This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 705 on 19 July 1975.