Despite the blazing heat of the hot Indian night, this air-conditioned
room in the palace was cool and comfortable. It was a bit too luxurious
for a business office; otherwise, it might have been any New York suite.
Three men sat at a small glass-topped table, on which stood a Gladstone
bag.
They rose as two Indians entered, bowing respectfully to the Rajah. The
latter was a small, weak-faced man with a straggling moustache and lips
too large and red for his sallow face. He barely acknowledged the
greetings, his gaze riveted on the leather bag.
“You have the Earth Star?” he asked.
“Yes,” said one of the three Europeans. He opened the bag, unlocked a
metal case built into it, and withdrew a jewel-case. This he opened and
placed flat on the table.
The Rajah’s mouth went dry. He could not repress a little shiver. “The
Earth Star ...” he whispered.
On black velvet the great gem flamed. It was lens-shaped and supernally
lovely, with rays of living light flaming out from its heart. The colors
latent within it changed and shifted under the soft illumination. It was
like a diamond—yet no diamond had ever possessed the wonder of the
Earth Star.
The Rajah’s secretary breathed deeply. “Carbon,” he murmured. “A
tree-fern some million years ago—”
One of the Europeans interrupted, though he did not look away from the
jewel. “A little more than that, sir. It took unusual pressure to make
the Earth Star. It came from the new cavern mines under the Atlantic,
you know, when they were taking cores to test from immense depths. A
tree-fern made the Earth Star—but that fern was somehow buried deeper
than man has ever thought possible. It’s immensely harder than diamond,
though it’s carbon, of course. And the only one in existence—”
The Rajah said softly, “There is an Earth Star in the crown of your
ruler.”
A subdued smile went the rounds of the group. “So there is, and an
excellent imitation, too. I repeat: you will be the owner of the only
Earth Star in existence.”
The Rajah placed his slim hand, glittering with invaluable jeweled
rings, flat on the table-top. “Then it is a bargain. My secretary will
give you a check.”
Abruptly the moonlight was blotted out. The figure of a man seemed to
rush out of the night, leaping in through the open window to land
lightly on the deep carpet. And that window overlooked a sheer abyss,
reaching down to the river gorge far below.
The sudden movements of the Europeans, and the quick gesture of the
Rajah’s secretary, were arrested at sight of an oddly shaped pistol in a
gloved hand. The intruder stood motionless, one hand gripping a light
metal ladder that extended up through the window and out of sight. He
wore ordinary flying togs, but his face was hidden by a black silk mask.
“Don’t move,” he said, in a low voice that was obviously disguised.
“No—don’t do that!” The pistol jerked slightly; otherwise there was no
indication that the trigger had been pulled. But one of the Europeans
cursed softly as his arm dropped to his side, paralyzed.
“A neurogun,” the masked man observed pleasantly. “It _can_ kill, you
know.... I’ll thank you not to move. Now—” He hooked the flexible
ladder across a chair and moved warily to the table. “The Earth Star,
eh?”
“Don’t be a fool,” the secretary said. “You can’t hope to sell that.
It’s unique.”
The intruder did not answer, but his quizzical gaze was amused. The
tallest of the Europeans snarled, “Sell it? Jackass—haven’t you ever
heard of the Merlin?”
As he spoke, his foot moved slightly toward the chair to which the
ladder was attached. He froze as the Merlin turned toward him.
“You recognize me?”
“I’ve heard of you.”
“Good!” The Merlin’s voice was suddenly sharp. “Then listen! I have ways
of finding out what I want to know. I discovered that certain powers
ruling your country had decided to sell the Earth Star to our friend the
Rajah. The price I don’t know, but it must be fabulous. If that money
were to go to needed purposes, I’d not have come here tonight.”
The tall European kicked the chair gently. The metal ladder slipped off,
slid across the carpet, and vanished out the window. The Merlin
apparently did not notice, though his retreat was now cut off.
* * * * *
He went on: “But the money is to be used for armaments. And you
gentlemen, and those behind you, are trying to foment a new war. As for
you—” He glanced at the Rajah. “You are a degenerate moron. _Don’t
move!_ It’s probably the first time you’ve ever heard the truth, but
you’re going to hear it now. You’re the wealthiest man in the Orient,
and you inherited your fortune, as well as your powers. You won’t buy
the Earth Star out of your own treasury, though. It’ll mean taxes for
your people, who are starving already. Another reason why I’m here.”
The Merlin glanced down. “This bit of carbon is causing trouble, I
think. So I’ll take it along. The imitation that was made to replace it
won’t interest the Rajah. So—”
He slipped the jewel in his pocket and moved back toward the window. The
others watched him narrowly. The Merlin apparently did not notice the
absence of his metal ladder.
The gun was still steady in one hand, but in the other he now held an
object like a small flashlight. “You may be interested in knowing how I
evaded your guards and alarms. I came in a gyroship.”
“But—my motor-killing rays—” The Rajah’s eyes were wide.
“They extend up only 300 feet. I hovered well above that point and came
down a ladder. And here it is.”
The ladder swung in from the darkness. The Merlin’s voice was amused as
he slipped the “flashlight” into his flying suit.
“A clever trick—but I have a very powerful magnet. I’ll leave you,
gentlemen—”
For an instant his attention was distracted as he put one foot on the
window-sill. Simultaneously the tallest European acted. With a
deep-voiced oath he sprang forward, seized the Merlin, and clamped one
hand over the outlaw’s gun-wrist.
“Hold him!” the secretary shrilled. He dived for an alarm buzzer. The
other Europeans closed in.
The Merlin fought in silence. His opponent was trying to drag him back
into the room—and that would be fatal. The outlaw dropped his weapon
and gripped the ladder, with both hands now.
He pulled himself up, putting all his weight on his arms. Inevitably the
European was lifted too. Overbalanced, the two went arcing into the
night as clutching fingers missed their mark by a fraction.
“Shoot!” the Rajah screamed. “Shoot him!”
Guns blazed from the window. Dim in the moonlight two figures were
struggling on a frail metal ladder, suspended above nothingness. A scrap
of cloth went fluttering down.
“His mask—”
Out of the dark came a voice, sharp and clear.
“_Martell!_”
It rose in a scream. One of the figures went plunging down.
The secretary was at the window, a flashlight in his hand. He focused
the beam on the quarry, a man in flying togs who kept his face turned
from the light. Now other rays shot out from the roof, bathing the
Merlin in merciless brilliance. A shot cracked sharply.
“They’ll get him,” the Rajah said. “I’ve sub-machine guns on the roof.”
The Merlin’s hand lifted, fumbled over the ladder. And—suddenly—he was
gone! Ladder and outlaw vanished!
The Rajah stared in blank amazement. “How—”
“Automatic winding device in his plane. It just wound him up.” The
European who spoke looked at his empty gun. “Better get your planes
after him.”
At a nod from the Rajah the secretary hurried from the room. “We’ll get
him,” royalty remarked.
“No, you won’t. The Merlin’s got a fast plane. He’s pulled off these
things before. But this time—well, he lost his mask.”
“Did you recognize him?”
“Stone did, before he fell. He screamed a name. Remember? Martell.”
“A common name,” the Rajah frowned.
“Stone and I worked closely together. He knew no Martells. He recognized
the name and the face from elsewhere. Newsreels—newspapers—everybody
knows Seth Martell and his sons. I’ll get in touch with my government
immediately. May I use your televisor?”
“Yes. Recover the Earth Star, and I’ll buy it.”
“That,” said the European grimly, “is a bargain.”