Part 9 (1/2)
”I'm afraid I do,” she agreed. ”I don't think the Slime Monster escaped. I think he was released. And I think someone caused a crisis in the Nucleotron to cover his actions!”
”How clever of you!” a voice called from the doorway. ”How fortunate that I decided to stay within earshot of your conversation.”
”Professor MacPhee!” Dr. Davenport exclaimed.
The professor stepped into the room, his silver revolver pointed in their direction.
”Or so I have been called around here,” MacPhee allowed with the slightest hint of a smile. ”But I am sometimes known by another name. Perhaps you've heard of- the Insidious Professor Peril!”
”Professor Peril!” Roger knew that name all too well. Not that he had seen him time and again, as he had with Menge the Merciless. No, but Roger remembered the name from a dozen articles in those nostalgia magazines he used to read about really obscure, grade Z films; articles complete with stills of the professor with Mort the Killer Robot, or Diablo, the Gorilla with the Mind of a Man! Oh, if only Roger had been better versed in minor, extremely low-budget action serials!
”Yes,” the poverty-row fiend continued, ”I was sent here by Doctor Dread, to make certain that the Inst.i.tute did not interfere with his plans! Now that you have discovered my true purpose, of course, I am afraid that you will have to be eliminated.
But I am not one to talk. I am one to act! If you will come with me?” His pencil-thin mustache twitched as he waved his gun toward the door.
He followed them out into the hall. ”If you would please keep on moving. Now, let's see. That's one of the nice things about the Inst.i.tute. There's so many handy ways to die. Ah, the very place! I think that even Doctor Dread would appreciate the drama of this.”
He opened the door marked rocket-testing strip.
”Now, if you would precede me?”
Roger and Dee Dee stepped out into what appeared to be a very large backyard.
There, stretching away from him, as far as Roger could see, were rockets of all shapes and sizes, in all stages of a.s.sembly.
Professor Peril glanced around the yard. ”Ah, yes. I think this large one over here will do quite nicely. And how providentially coincidental that the workmen have left this large quant.i.ty of steel cable lying about. How ideal for tying the two of you to the instrument of your death.”
He instructed his two victims to stand against the rocket, which was bright red and sitting on its side, atop a railroad car that in turn was sitting on a set of tracks.
”Now, to properly secure you,” Peril continued matter-of-factly. ”To do this, I will, of course, have to put my gun between my teeth. I feel it only fair to warn you, however, that I am an excellent shot with my tongue.”
No-nonsense villain that he was, Peril had both of them tied securely to the rocket in a matter of seconds.
”Now, I merely have to press the start b.u.t.ton on this nearby control board, and the rocket engines will fire. Not that you're taking off anywhere-oh, no. The rocket will instead speed down the tracks to a target a mile or so distant, a concrete wall of sufficient thickness to incinerate the warhead mounted atop your very last ride. You will, of course, be instantly incinerated at some thousands of degrees, a temperature so hot that there will be no remains to be identified. And now, I must be going. I'd chat with you longer, but I haven't time.”
The professor trotted over to the nearby control board and pressed the b.u.t.ton beneath the large sign that read start. He didn't even wave as he walked smartly back into the Inst.i.tute.
”Roger?” Dr. Davenport cried from where she was tied beside him. ”What can we do?”
Roger looked about wildly. Wait a moment! They were not alone. While the rocket- testing grounds stretched out before them, they were bordered on the right by the backyards of the suburban houses on the adjacent street.
There, not twenty yards distant, two men and a woman stared at them over a white picket fence. The men wore gray flannel suits, the woman a starched white blouse and a full navy skirt covered by a gingham ap.r.o.n, ”Excuse me?” Roger called. ”You there?”
The rocket grumbled to life beneath them.
”There are certain things that man was not meant to know,” the first fellow commented to the others.
”We could use some help!” Roger added.
The first flickers of flame erupted beneath Roger's feet.
”Indeed,” the second agreed. ”Scientists should never experiment with forces beyond their control.”
”Are you just going to stand there?” Roger asked in desperation. The rocket began rolling down the tracks.
The woman sighed as she glanced at her companions. ”They should have thought twice before tampering with the very fabric of the cosmos.”
And with a great roar, the rocket picked up speed, carrying Roger and Dee Dee straight toward the concrete wall.
”Do you think,” the woman added as an afterthought, ”it would do any good to complain about the noise?”
They would be burned alive in a matter of seconds. There was only one chance.
”Do you still have the ring?” he called out over the rocket's roar.
”Oh, yes!” Dr. Davenport shouted back. ”It's still in my pocket!”
”Use it!” Roger yelled.
The wind whistled past their ears.
”Well-” she grunted, ”if I can get it-”
Roger felt himself being flattened against the rocket's metal hull. He forced his head up, so that he could look past the rocket's nose. There, in the distance, but approach- ing all too rapidly, was a long gray wall.
They were surrounded by blue smoke.
An instant later, the rocket motors choked off abruptly, replaced by the sound of cras.h.i.+ng waves.
”See, I told you they'd come back!” a voice shouted triumphantly.The smoke cleared, and they were surrounded by sun, and sand, and surf.
”Oh, yeah?” Sneer shot back before the Mad Mumbler could say anything. ”Well, this time, they're never going to leave-ever!”
Back on the surfing world? How could this be?
”Oh, no!” Roger shouted from where he was still strapped to the now sand-covered rocket. ”Dr. Davenport! What should we do?”
”Tee hee hee,” Dr. Davenport replied.
^ ^ 8 ^ ^
”ANIMATED a.s.sAULT!”.
”Jumpin' Jehoshaphat!” Doc exclaimed. ”Where in tarnation are we?”
”Trust me,” Big Louie said rea.s.suringly. ”This is where we want to be.”
”No!” Dr. Dread shrieked. ”Anywhere but here!” ”It not look real,” Zabana remarked.