Free Captain Future 11 - The Comet Kings (Summer 1942) by Edmond Hamilton Page A

streets behind the looming palace dome, the conspirators numbered into the hundreds.
    “The others will be on their way here by now,” Aggar declared as he signaled to halt. “But there are two thousand guards inside the palace, and as many more within easy call.”
    “What’s your plan — to rush the entrances?” Captain Future asked tensely.
    “No. The guards would slam the gates on us before we could get through,” grunted the big Cometae rebel.
    He turned to his fellow officer.
    “Zarn, I’m going inside with a small band, by a little-used entrance I learned of when I was captain of the palace guards myself. We’ll try to dispose quietly of the gate guards. You can bring the main force in when you hear our signal.”
    “I’m going with you, Aggar,” Curt said quietly. And the other Futuremen and Ezra Gurney hastily chimed in.
    Aggar laughed.
    “All right. The one you call Grag may be useful.”
    Aggar quickly designated a score of Cometae to accompany them. Then he and the Futuremen led the small band toward the palace.
     
    THE vast, white synthestone structure loomed above them like a man-made mountain when they reached its massive rear wall. Aggar led them to a narrow entrance in one of the indented angles in the wall.
    “A servants’ entrance,” he muttered. “There should be only two guards on duty. Stay back out of sight.”
    They remained as he bade them, while Aggar himself sheathed his sword and strode boldly toward the inconspicuous entrance.
    Two Cometae palace guards sprang suddenly from the entrance and barred his way with drawn swords.
    Why are you here, Captain Aggar?” one demanded suspiciously. “You are not on palace duty any longer.”
    “You fools? Haven’t you heard that Khinkir is dead and that I’ve replaced him?” snarled Aggar.
    Half convinced, yet still doubtful, the two guards lowered their swords a little. Then Curt and his companions saw a wonderful feat of swordsmanship.
    They saw Aggar suddenly hurl himself forward, drawing his blade as he plunged its and wielding it like a brand of light. It ripped into the breast of a Cometae guard and out again, struck down the other man at the very moment his mouth was opened to yell an alarm.
    “Hot work,” panted Aggar as Curt and the others came running up. His massive face hardened. “And don’t waste any pity on these palace guards, strangers. They’ve long been the instruments of Thoryx’s tyranny over the people. I myself was one of them, until I could stand such injustice no longer.”
    They had crowded into the entrance now and stood inside the palace of the Cometae kings. A narrow corridor, which could be closed by a huge gate of metal, led to a flight of ascending steps.
    “Up this way,” said Aggar, hastening up the stairs. “We’re working on scant margin of time now!”
    Curt Newton heard then, from somewhere deep within the great palace, a burst of thrilling, rippling music. Long, falling chords quivered in his ears with alien tonal beauty of muted strings.
    “That’s from the Lightning Feast,” Aggar grunted. “But it hasn’t begun yet or we’d hear it.”
    They came up into a long gallery, one of a maze of cross-halls and passages that intersected the palace’s vast bulk. Luxury was evident everywhere here, the alabaster walls hung with beautiful tapestries of red and gold, the floors soft with silken rugs.
    Aggar shot rapid orders at the score of Cometae he had brought along, directing them to work their way back through the palace and overcome the gate guards at the main rear entrances.
    “Then give the signal. Zarn and the others will pour in, and all will be on the knees of the gods!” finished the husky Cometae officer.
    He turned to Curt.
    “The main force of the palace guards is always close to Thoryx. They’ll be in the great court for the festival. This way!”
    They raced along deserted, splendid halls whose occupants had apparently all been drawn by the mysterious festivity. Soon