Free Captain Future 12 - Planets in Peril (Fall 1942) by Edmond Hamilton

directly from the shining knob.
    "Headquarters answering. What have you to report?"
    Grag began to understand. That square apparatus was a telepathic transmitter of some kind, designed to permit the transmission of ordinary telepathic messages across immense distances.
    It was not hard for the robot to guess that Thool was the capital of the Cold Ones' power. It might lie far across this dying universe which the Cold Ones had almost completely overrun.
    Njdd was delivering into the telep-transmitter a concise account of the capture of Grag, and a description of the robot. There was a pause, and then came the reply.
    "The captive you have taken is apparently a robot such as were manufactured by Tarast scientists in the past. It is not human but can be used to serve humans. It is possible the Tarasts mean to make many of them to use against us. Therefore, you will ship the creature to us at Thool for examination, by the next patrol boat that you send in with reports."
    Grag broke into an explosion of mental fury.
    "What do they mean, I'm not human? I warned you fellows about making cracks like that!"
    Njdd had turned off the telep-transmitter. He paid no attention to the robot's mental outburst as he directed an order at Ystl.
    "Put the creature in one of the empty rooms and keep it bound. A patrol boat leaves for Thool tomorrow, and we'll send the thing on it."
    The commander added his cold commendation.
    "You did well to capture instead of destroying it, Ystl. I shall see that your meritorious action is brought to the attention of the Highest, himself."
    Grag was dragged out of the lighted room and through a corridor that was part of the ancient building. He was hauled unceremoniously into a dusky, empty room and left there.
    He lay, swearing to himself. It would be worse if the Cold Ones took him away to their distant, mysterious capital of Thool. Grag bestirred himself to find a way of escape.
    His arms were bound tightly against his body by the thick metal cable. But by herculean efforts, he managed to twist one arm so that his right hand reached a certain part of his metal torso.
    "Ah, that's better," grunted Grag. "Now if I can only get it open —"
    There was a tiny locker built into Crag's metal side at that point. It contained small tools with which he kept his mechanical body in repair. He squirmed now to slide open the door of the little locker.
    He got it open, and his fingers drew out a small file. He used it ordinarily to smooth out small dents in his metal hide. Now, he hoped to cut with it the cable that trussed him. The difficulty was that with his arms so tightly bound against him, he could hardly move the file.
     
    WITH his super-strong fingers, he clumsily drew the file back and forth against the cable. His movement was so cramped that he could hardly make an impression on the tough cable. But he kept it up.
    Grag could hear no sounds on this airless world. But he did receive vibrations through the floor. They told him of space-sleds landing or taking off outside the building, of Cold Ones moving nearby. None looked in at him, however. They assumed the heavy cable would hold him.
    He had toilsomely filed half through the cable when he was startled by the appearance of a figure at the door. It was not a Cold One who looked in at him. It was a human — a young man in space-suit and helmet.
    "Are you the prisoner the Cold Ones just brought back?" asked the man, staring in wonder at Grag's prone, mighty metal figure.
    His question was audible to Grag. For Grag's electro-mechanical speech and hearing apparatus could receive from a space-suit phone.
    "You're a prisoner, too?" Grag replied eagerly. "You must be one of the Tarasts."
    "Yes, I am a Tarast and my name is Lacq," the other told him.
    "Good, we'll get out of here together!" Grag exclaimed. "Here, you can help file away the rest of this cable."
    Then Grag remembered with sudden alarm:
    "Say, won't the Cold Ones in the front of the building catch our