Overlord Of Earth Part 1

OVERLORD OF EARTH.

by Lloyd Arthur Eshbach.

When man finally achieves world peace, what will he do about Andrev?--Startling feature-length future-science novelet!

Will men in their growing wisdom finally realize the stupidity of International slaughter and forget the so-called art of war? But when and if they do, might even then an Andrev appear--a master killer who might have discovered the secret of physical immortality and have lain in a hidden crypt for centuries, a product of an earlier, more violent day who waited patiently for the time when he would find matured mankind an easy prey for his bloodthirsty villainy?

CHAPTER I.

KERRY KORD crouched in utter blackness, sensing rather than seeing the other eighteen men in the belly of the glider. Only Glenn Bodey, squatting at his back, strapped with him in the two-man parachute, could he definitely identify.

Minutes before, the motor of the giant tow-plane had been killed, and Kerry knew that the fleet of twenty-five gliders must be in the vicinity of the "Overlord's Throne."

Inhaling deeply, Kerry touched the emergency 'chute release with his left hand and his Ghormley automatic with his right. A matter of minutes now. Despite rigid self-control, he could feel his heartbeat quicken, and a constriction high in his chest made breathing difficult. He rose to his full six-foot height; felt Bodey's broad form rising with him.

"Cold up here," the latter growled heavily. "I could do with a little heat."

"It'll be warmer shortly," Kerry commented. "much warmer--very shortly."

That was how it had been since their take-off from their hidden base in the ruins of New York City--small talk--trivial complaints--leading up to indirect admission of the tension that gripped all of them.

Soon the waiting would be ended. Soon they would actually attack the stronghold of the world dictator-- the self-styled "Overlord." Soon they would know whether they would live or die--whether humanity would remain enslaved or would be free.

In his mind's eye Kerry again saw the final a.s.sembly of The Remnant. Saw grim-faced, gray-clad hordes stalking through dank tunnels, littered with the silt and rubbish of decades, to meet in what had once been the terminus of a vast net of subway tubes, the heart of the transportation system of Earth's greatest metropolis. The Remnant of earth's freemen--the comparative few of all mankind who refused to yield to Andrev, the Overlord--had chosen instead to live almost as beasts among the ruins of once mighty cities.

He saw again the close-packed, waiting thousands facing the high platform upon which had stood the Chief, Janothan Hardinger, stiffly erect in the trim, gray synthane of The Remnant, sharply visible in the beams of a battery of floodlights. Behind him had sat the Ten, the scientists, councilors and strategists of The Remnant. And all about the platform, in motionless rank upon rank, arranged with military precision, had stood five hundred men in l.u.s.treless black--Kerry Kord among them.

He heard again the final ringing words of the Chief. "We need not die--and we shall not die! Men will again be free! Our plans have been made; our preparations are complete.

"You have been summoned to learn your part in our plan for freedom. What that plan is we may not say--but upon each of you and the successful completion of your individual a.s.signment depends the liberty of humanity. Each of you will be armed. Each of you will be fitted with a uniform of the Overlord's Guard. Each of you will be a.s.signed to a city and a man or woman in that city. And that individual must die!"

Hardinger's hand had indicated the ranks of the men in black. "Upon these men falls the greater task of the destruction of the Overlord himself. They are the pick of all The Remnant--and they shall not fail!

"A week from today is the anniversary of man's enslavement, the Overlord's 'Liberation Day'. There will be carousing and riotous celebration, as there always has been, and when it is at its height, when midnight mantles the Himalayan peak they call the Overlord's Throne, we strike--for freedom!"

AT LAST that hour was at hand! His hour, he hoped, when he would destroy the life of the one being he truly hated. The slayer of his father, once one of the Ten, and the greatest scientist of his day.

Kerry's thoughts veered to Andrev, the Overlord, and his angular features tightened savagely. Murderer, s.a.d.i.s.t, spoiler of a civilization. Product of an earlier, more violent day who, so the tale was told, had discovered the secret of physical immortality, and had lain in a crypt for three hundred years, to awaken and enslave a world. Men in their growing wisdom had finally realized the stupidity of international slaughter and had forgotten the so-called art of war.

Andrev, steeped in the foul knowledge of a century--the twentieth--redolent with wars, had found the new age easy prey. And, whether or not he was immortal, he had ruled Earth for a hundred years, yet physically had not changed at all.

Above everything, Andrev must not escape! He would be sought out--and would be found where ma.s.ses of his satellites were a.s.sembled. For the Overlord was never alone....was afraid to be alone! Afraid, with a maddening, unbalancing fear born of his centuries in the tomb. Centuries, it was whispered, when his body had been as though dead, while his mind was alert, awake, and utterly--alone.

Minutes now--perhaps seconds--and the men from the past would be attacked by an army recruited from the pages of history. "Paratroopers" had figured in wars in Andrev's age--and "paratroopers would destroy the head and heart of the Overlord's system! Invisible, black-clad paratroopers raining from a midnight sky ....

Momentarily a red light winked over the heads of the waiting men. The signal. A rustle of synthane swished through the silence. Then a great door slid aside in the wall of the glider and a blast of frigid air whipped through the opening.

"Jump position!" Kerry barked. "Two and two. Remember your instructions." He was talking to fill in the gap before the actual leap into the dark. "We'll try to land on the flying field in front of the Star Tower. If we miss it, we get there as fast as we can. We join the wedge that blasts its way into the Tower--then, unless Andrev is blasted in the first a.s.sault--and if intelligence knows anything, he won't be, for he'll run at the first sign of trouble--we hit for the top of the Tower, blasting everyone before us."

Kerry's words came faster. Time was running out. "If I get mine, Bodey takes over. If he goes, Gill is in command. If Gill goes--you know the order.

Only--get--through!"

Again that flash of red! And the first pair of men leaped into the night--a night now aglow with the light that rose from the Overlord's citadel. On the heels of the first, the second pair--the third--split seconds between jumps, the cords attached to the rod overhead automatically opening the 'chutes. ... Kerry and Bodey took their place in the line, the last to jump save the pilot who would abandon the glider and follow ....

With a rush of thin, icy air, Kerry and his partner plummeted toward the Himalayan plateau far below. Automatically Kerry counted, his finger gripping the emergency pull--one-and-a-two--he felt the wrench and jar under his arm-pits, the thud against the back of his padded cap as the folds of black synthane ballooned above them. Heard Bodey's sardonic, "Nice view--but too blamed cold for comfort." He grinned a tight, strained grin and looked downward.

Brilliantly lighted, the Overlord's Throne lay like a jeweled mosaic among snow-capped peaks. As the plateau leaped skyward, details appeared. Parklike expanses of precisely trimmed green formed the setting for glittering buildings of metal and plastic, neon-tubed and garish, where the tyrant government of Earth held sway. One great structure of glistening steel in the center of the plateau stood out by virtue of its shape, a perfect six-pointed star, the symbol of the Overlord. Crimson lights flooded the top of the famous Star Tower which held the Council Hall of Andrev and his lieutenants.

CURIOUSLY Kerry peered into the sky around him. As far as the eye could see, he and Bodey were alone in the blackness. So perfectly were the others concealed by their l.u.s.treless black that they defied detection. He heard Bodey's voice thinly in his ears: "Nice night for a murder!"

Kerry made no comment. Skillfully he maneuvered the 'chute toward the giant structure. A great flying field surrounded the tower, a field where Andrev's followers landed when they came to report to the Overlord. That was the destination of two hundred of them--the very heart of things, where they hoped to find the tyrant. Another hundred would seek the communication center--fifty more, supply headquarters, and so on, completely covering the plateau. The wind caught the 'chute and swept it toward the Star Tower ...closer...now to swerve ...

To Kerry's taut senses came a shrill, thin whine, mounting in a swift crescendo.

He'd been waiting for that--a powerful robot plane diving out of the blackness with a four-ton cargo of destruction--plummeting toward the quarters of the Overlord's Guard. Seconds after the first faint sound, it struck with a mighty roaring blast that rolled thunderously over the mountains, and an angry, lurid ma.s.s of smoke and flame plumed skyward. A direct hit, Kerry exulted, as fragments of stone and metal and plastic rained earthward. That would help--plenty!

With startling suddenness a hail of bursting sh.e.l.ls flared toward them from batteries of concealed anti-aircraft guns--and simultaneously the lights of the Overlord's Throne winked into blackness! Kerry's eyes bored through the dark, broken only by sh.e.l.l blasts and the red glow of the burning building. They had expected this, of course--automatic detectors had picked them up and automatic defenses had been tripped into motion. One of the secrets Andrev had brought from the past. It didn't change things at all--if bursting sh.e.l.l fragments didn't blast them out of the sky. Their plan provided for this. Once they'd landed....

With a jar that shook them from head to feet, Kerry and Glenn Bodey crashed against a hard, smooth surface. Arms linking mechanically, they rolled over, tumbling away from the folds of the synthane 'chute. Training made their movements swift and sure--and in moments they sprang free of the ma.s.s of cloth.

Grimly silent, they dropped p.r.o.ne upon the plastic runway, rocket blasters gripped in their hands. Simple weapons, these, designed for a specific job--that of getting into the tower.

With his left hand Kerry drew a small, tubular flare from a belt compartment, thrust a finger through a ring at one end and began counting slowly. A minute must pa.s.s....

As the seconds dragged by, Kerry's straining senses caught faint sounds somehow penetrating through the incessant crash and rattle of gunfire--soft thuds of rubber-soled shoes, the swish of yards of synthane; then as the minute neared its end the faint sounds ceased. All the troopers should have landed now...Seconds ....

With one swift movement Kerry flung the flare far from him, retaining the ring release, and watched through slitted eyelids. Searingly a brilliant white glare burst the blackness asunder to be followed instantly by deeper blackness; and upon the retina of every man's eyes was stamped a photographic picture of their surroundings. Kerry saw black mounds dotting the plastic everywhere--saw the glistening smoothness of the blued steel that blocked the entrance into the Citadel.

With the speed of thought Kerry pointed his rocket blaster and squeezed its release, sending the single powerful charge of the weapon hissing meteorlike toward the barrier. It struck with a crackling report, that merged into a single earsplitting blast as the weapon in the hand of every paratrooper spoke. Most of the sh.e.l.ls struck the target--and where they struck, streamers and tongues and droplets of white hot fire bit savagely into the steel. Nothing made of metal could long withstand that concentrated inferno of heat.

As one the black-clad horde leaped erect and charged toward the door, running in a weaving crouch. Useless rocket blasters clattered to the runway to be replaced by lethal Ghormley automatics with their hundred rounds of explosive pellets. As they ran, they formed into an irregular wedge with Kerry Kord at its apex.

Through the widening slits and gaping holes in the door Kerry saw the interior of the Council Hall, and at its far end the incredible splendor of Andrev's throne. The s.p.a.ce within the great room was a bedlam of scurrying men and women, varicolored lights gleaming on the bare flesh and scanty attire of the decadent rulers.

As he ran, Kerry drew a grenade from his belt and held it in readiness, his fingers on the firing pin. Great gaping holes now appeared in the door, molten steel dripping from their brightly burning edges; as he drew close, Kerry paused momentarily and hurled the bomb through the opening. A breathless instant--a bursting, rending roar of flame and yellow-green smoke--and Kerry hurtled swiftly through the ragged ring of flame!

CHAPTER II

THE MINUTES that followed were a nightmare of b.l.o.o.d.y, roaring slaughter. The forces of the Overlord, their minds already befuddled with their hours of carousing, were completely demoralized, capable of only the most feeble resistance. Flight was the universal impulse. As the men of the Remnant poured through the burning doorway to spread fanwise across the hall, they swept the ma.s.sed revelers before them like sheep. It was slaughter--and slaughter without quarter. They had come as executioners to wipe out Andrev and his followers, root and branch--and prisoners had no place in their plan.

As he sped through the huge chamber, firing methodically at every fleeing figure within range, Kerry's mind wavered between satisfaction at the success of their attack thus far and a vague sense of uneasiness. It was unbelievable that the Overlord could be so completely unprepared for attack. The element of surprise had given them an unquestioned advantage, and the celebration of 'Liberation Day' with its attendant debauchery had helped a lot. Then too, there had been no organized resistance for so long a period that the danger of an uprising had seemed completely past. But certainly Andrev had additional automatic defense installed during the early days of his reign when the danger of revolt must have been something to cope with; to think otherwise was to underestimate the Overlord's intelligence.

Kerry scanned the chamber with quick, keen glances, while charging ahead with unbroken stride. Two things in particular he noted. The Overlord's throne was empty; and everyone ran as though by prearranged plan toward a narrow doorway in the far wall close to the throne--streaming through it in a steady unbroken line.

The Overlord, certainly, had preceded his followers through that doorway!

Casting a glance behind him, Kerry saw that he still led the pack, though Bodey was at his heels. With a single piercing shout he sprinted toward the narrow opening, ignoring the panicstricken stragglers who scurried away at his approach. His cry seemed to have spurred the fleeing ma.s.s to new effort, for suddenly the narrow doorway became jammed with a fighting, squirming ma.s.s of humanity. Grimly Kerry hurled a grenade, a second, a third--and as the thunderous detonation rolled through the room, the doorway cleared completely.

As he reached the opening, an ominous roar swept through the hall and he glanced over his shoulder. His face blanched. A withering rain of machine gun fire was sweeping the hall from openings in both side walls! Someone, somewhere, had been waiting till the room had cleared of Andrev's men--then had set off batteries of weapons. trained in devastating crossfire. His comrades were dropping on every hand.

A furious curse burst from him as Bodey reached his side. A trap--and they had been caught in it!

"Up to us, Glenn." he rasped, whirling and thrusting his Ghormley into its holster. Nothing but grenades now--and Andrev their only objective.

The room they had entered was far smaller than the Council Hall, and in its far end were jammed a ma.s.s of the rulers, struggling to enter four large elevators that lined the wall. Four elevators and all the doors were open! None had yet left ground level.

WITH COMMON consent Kerry and Bodey began throwing grenades, their advance slowed to a walk. Thunderous reverberations rocked the room, mingled with the shrieks and screams of the injured. Choking, acrid smoke billowed across the chamber--and like black robots the two men of the Remnant stalked through the shambles. Kerry, grim-faced, narrow-eyed, kept his gaze fixed on the open elevator doors. In one of them, he was certain, was Andrev. If only he could plant a grenade within those little cubicles! He aimed carefully, but the cast fell short and as the smoke of the explosion eddied away, he saw the door slide shut. One was gone! That last grenade had done the trick.

Kerry's fingers groped for another grenade--found it--and he realized suddenly that it was his last one. Better keep it for an emergency. He gripped the b.u.t.t of his Ghormley, turned to Bodey.

"Glenn," he snapped, "we've got to get to those elevators quick. Andrev's in one of them--and we must get him! You take the right--"

He broke off abruptly as a familiar stentorian voice rose above the bedlam. The Overlord!

"Attention! Cowards! Only two men are attacking you! The rest have been wiped out. Turn and destroy them!"

The words took instant effect upon the milling ma.s.s. Heads turned and an ominous roar surged from scores of throats. And suddenly a beam of intense brilliance flashed toward the two men from the heart of one of the elevators. From a weapon, Kerry thought, in the hands of Andrev himself.

"A grenade, Glenn," he snapped through tight lips. If the mob turned on them their chances were slim. Panic had been their strongest ally.

"All gone," Bodey grunted laconically.

Kerry grasped his last bomb. "Then follow me and get to that second elevator.

Fast!" He hurled the grenade into the thick of the mob; and as it roared its message of death he dashed with every ounce of strength toward the cubicle that must hold the Overlord. One hand clutched the Ghormley; with the other he drew a foot-long, razor-sharp knife.

Savagely he fought his way through the close-packed ma.s.s of humanity, slashing, tricking, his automatic blasting. Hands that clutched him were swept aside as, weaving, darting, leaping, he pressed furiously toward the Overlord. He heard a chorus of agony and fear rise ahead of him--caught a glimpse of that searing beam of the Overlord cutting scythelike through the bodies of his own men!

Clearing the elevator! With a furious oath Kerry leaped high and fired at the source of beam and the door closed smoothly upon a lone figure standing erect amid sprawling bodies.

Unreasoning rage seized Kerry Kord. Afterward he had only a vague recollection of a melee of writhing torsos, clutching hands blows, amid a clamor of screams and explosions then somehow he had reached an elevator--had plunged within upon a squirming mound of men and women. The door slid shut, and they shot skyward.

Reason returned when a terrified feminine voice shrieked almost in his ear: "Here's one of them!"

Kerry thought swiftly. He couldn't hope to overcome a score of people, though they were unarmed, in such close quarters if they really resisted. His Ghormley was practically useless here since he couldn't fire it without endangering himself. There was only one way out--bluff.

"Quiet!" he roared bitingly, his voice cold and incisive. "You have one chance to live. I'm after the Overlord, not you." He thrust up a clenched fist in which was gripped one of the tubular flares. "You've seen the effects of these grenades--and if you resist I'll release this one right now. We'll die, every one of us. If you tell me where Andrev went you may go. Your answer--quick!"

A dozen voices clamored: "The top of the tower--he's got a plane there! that's where he is!'

SCOWLING threateningly Kerry surveyed the faces turned toward him. What he saw on the bruised and perspiring countenances convinced him they were telling the truth. One dark-eyed girl said boldly, "I hope you get him. He blasted us with that pistol of his to save his own skin."

Inspired by the example of bolder spirits, others in the crowd began cursing Andrev. Kerry listened without comment, revulsion faintly curling his lips. They could be courageous now.

The elevator came to rest of its own volition and someone slid back the door.

Eagerly they pushed aside to clear a path for Kerry. With his fist held high above him for all to see, Kerry stalked into the open, glimpsing the black sky overhead. He saw something else--a gleaming metal dome in the center of the six-pointed star that was the top of the Star Tower.

And the hangar was ablaze with light, the m.u.f.fled roar of rocket jets rising from within!

Kerry spun toward the elevator. Already the door was closing upon Andrev's satellites, all too eager to escape unharmed. It slid shut and Kerry turned to sprint toward the glittering dome.

As he ran, he thought of the plane and the hangar. This was something unforeseen in the plans of the Ten, something which Remnant Intelligence had overlooked.

From the sky this hanger could not be seen, concealed, perhaps, by super-camouflage, or more logically, hidden in the floor below, and raised to roof level mechanically when needed. Once in the plane, escape might readily be accomplished by the Overlord.

Kerry had had ideas of his own concerning Andrev's possible manner of escape if attacked .... About ten years before, Kerry's father had been a scientist of world prominence. Working in the laboratories of the State, his sympathies had nonetheless been with the Remnant, of which he had been an important though secret member. Then one day he had been summoned by the Overlord--and that was the last he had ever been seen by the Remnant. Rumor had said that he had successfully completed a series of experiments upon something in which Andrev had been interested and had died so his knowledge might be the Overlord's alone.

Kerry's jaws clenched at the thought. He had a personal score to settle .... But of greater importance was the fact that he knew the subject of his father's experimentation. It was mastery of the Fourth Dimension--travel through time!

Conceding that it could be done, what could be more logical than the thought that this man who had come out of the past would flee into a future age if flight became necessary, where he might again gain a world empire?

As the polished walls of the hangar loomed above him, Kerry looked for a doorway, and found one just as a wide section of the wall moved aside to permit the exit of a plane. Darting into the hangar, he hesitated briefly while his eyes raced over the strangely designed rocket ship that half-filled the open s.p.a.ce before him.

In that momentary glimpse he saw it was a rocket plane as large as many commercial stratosphere transports, equipped with nose and tail vents, transparent plastic control cabin and possessing wings of extraordinary length.

The strangest feature of the machine, however, was the series of enormous hoops of inch-thick, crystalline tubing which circled its tapering fuselage and that formed a border around the rim of the long, streamlined wings. Definitely, it was unlike any plane Kerry had ever seen--and suddenly he believed he knew why.

The time traveling equipment had been installed in the plane!

He wasted no more time in examination, for the rear rockets were roaring a warning that in moments Andrev would be on his way. A glance at the transparent nose of the plane revealed that the Overlord was not at the controls; but he must be somewhere in the ship. With his Ghormley held in readiness, Kerry sprang to the nearest door and turned the catch. It moved easily under his hand and the door opened inward.

With every nerve wire-taut, Kerry eased himself through an opening he made barley wide enough to admit his powerful form--and with the suddenness of a lightning bolt, a blinding, coruscating flare of light knifed his brain and utter blackness engulfed him.

CHAPTER III