Primal Spillane Read online

  Bruce had on his heavy space clothes, designed to keep him from freezing to death in the sub-arctic temperatures between Earth and Moon, but now it was uncomfortably hot. He struggled out of it and got a pair of tropical shorts from the ship. That was much better. Then, for the first time he took careful note of his surroundings. Gigantic pits were like ugly sores all over. Huge cracks yawned like the mouths of monsters. Meteors caused the pits … there was no air to burn them out before hitting, and the unbearable heat had opened up the cracks!

  The whole place was a scene of desolate waste. The ground was a mass of white powder, and not a single speck of vegetation was visible. No life crawled about as it did on Earth, nor had any life existed here for thousands of years. The small planet seemed to be an outcast from the Solar System, a true desert of death! Telescopes had often revealed this to the astronomers, but when seen so closely it was even more appalling.

  Bruce had prepared for a long stay, but he wasted none of his time. First he got out a shovel, then began digging a ditch. Weeks later he was still at it. Finally the day came when his work there was done. Wait until that was seen from Earth! But the biggest task of all was still ahead … a visit to the dark side … that which was never seen from Earth! Always, only one side pointed toward the mother sphere, now he would see what was on the other side!

  A bicycle was dragged out of the ship and he was off! Fortunately, he was near the shadow line, and two days later he crossed into the dark country. Then … an amazing change came over the place … the cold was unbearable … and only a few yards separated it from the hot side! Bruce donned his space suit, which he had taken with him, and went in! Here there was no light, only inky darkness … and the cold. Not a sound broke the stillness except for a space humming. Further and further he went into the interior.

  He tripped over jutting pieces of rock and fell, but there was no shock. When he went down the lessened gravity let him “float” down. It was a queer sensation, utterly different from anything he had ever experienced on Earth!

  SUDDENLY … a shriek split the quiet. It grew louder, vibrating the ground! Just in time, Bruce looked up. A giant form was hurtling out of space toward Moon! It hit with a thunderous crash, knocking him off his feet. Bruce was showered with particles. The stuff rained down … if it should penetrate his helmet, he was lost! But nothing happened. He had escaped unscathed! He flashed on his light, and in its rays saw a meteor … split wide open … and out of it came another space traveler!

  And what an apparition it was! A horrible, eight-armed creature it was. Huge, devilish eyes gleamed dully as it crawled out of the wreckage of the ship. Then it saw him! The thing squirmed forward, its arms reaching out for him! Fully ten feet high! Bruce was petrified, he could not move. He tried desperately to bring up the rifle, but the thing’s eyes held him motionless. And just as it was about to grab him it happened … The thing collapsed!

  Perhaps the shock of the crash did it, or maybe the intense cold, but if flopped to the ground like a sack of jelly … and started to shrink! A matter of minutes and it was a spot on the darkness of the crust. Quickly Bruce turned on his light and caught the thing in the beam. Smaller and smaller it got … and then it disappeared completely! What manner of creature was this that traveled through space … and shrunk into nothingness when it died? This was too much!

  Bruce turned and ran for the shadow line. He went in long bounding leaps, jumping crags and obstacles in a weird bouncing motion. He hit the line, stripped off his space suit, stuffed it in the container on the bicycle, and made for the ship. Time went slowly, so anxious was he to reach the security of the metal hull. But at last he made it. At once he took off his helmet, stowed his gear into the compartments, and leaped to the controls.

  On went the motors! The ship sped along and lifted into the blue sky. The nose made a wide arc and he was homeward bound! Earth looked wonderful, even after so brief a leave. Days later North America spun into view, and grew steadily bigger. Bruce picked out a spot on the sandy desert of Arizona where he could do no damage in landing. The rockets in the nose blasted and the ship slowed. He leveled off and slid in beautifully. He was back!

  LITTLE clouds of dust on the horizon came closer. He had been seen … and the curious were on their way. They showed up, all right … armed to the teeth! They probably thought he was a visitor from another planet and were taking no chances! But when they saw that it was a man, questions poured out … Bruce had to laugh them off. They wouldn’t believe him anyway.

  However, word reached the papers and he told them the whole story. The nation rocked with laughter. Prominent scientists said it was impossible … he was crazy … Bruce said nothing. Along about this time, the new telescope was erected in California, one that would bring the Moon to within twenty-five miles of Earth. Eager eyes peered into the huge barrel, gazing at the Moon … and there, just as Bruce Henderson said it would be … were the initials U. S. A., carved into the surface in letters each a mile long! It was the ditch he dug, deep enough to be seen from Earth — claiming the moon for the United States!

  ***

  Scram, Bugs!

  “SHOO FLY” MULLIGAN, the exterminator, slumped in his chair wishing that the working day was over so he could go fishing. He played idly with the handle of his squirt gun that was worn thin with thousands of plunges that had chased bugs out of their cozy little corners in pantries, rugs and what-not. Bumps, the boss, kicked open the door and walked in muttering to himself, then caught sight of Shoo Fly.

  “You, Mulligan! What are you sitting around here for when there’s work to be done?”

  “Aw, boss, me squirt gun’s empty.”

  “Well, for Pete’s sake, go get it filled, and hop over to the Wentworth Apartments. The super is complaining that the walls are crawling with your little six legged friends that are making themselves at home in somebody’s kitchen!”

  Mulligan yawned and got up, dragging his squirter behind him.

  “O.K., boss. I was thinkin’ that maybe I could go fishing today, but I guess it’s no go!”

  So saying, Shoo Fly ambled down the corridor to the supply room where he loaded his gun with the most powerful stuff he could find. No use making two trips when he felt so lazy, he figured; so, use only the best. Downstairs, he cranked his old jalopy and tut-tutted at the condition of the tires. The rubber was gone, the cording, was gone, and after ten more miles it would be running on the inner tubes. Daggone the enemy!

  WITH a weird banging like a washing machine full of tin cans, the jalopy pulled away and wheezed up the street. Twenty minutes later Mulligan stopped behind a row of limousines in front of the Wentworth Apartments, and accepted the grins of the populace on the street with a scowl. He shouldered his squirt gun like a rifle … and marched to the super’s office. First, he rapped on the door, then stalked in.

  “You the drooper … I mean, super?”

  The fat boy behind the desk nodded behind his flowing whiskers.

  “Where’s all these bugs I’m supposed to smear?” Shoo Fly asked.

  “They’re upstairs in 6D. An old man lives in there. He went out a few days ago, and hasn’t come back. The blooming little bugs have been crawling out from under the door like an army on the march, and invading all the other apartments. The tenants are complaining something awful. You’d better get busy right away!”

  “Pronto! Shoo Fly Mulligan, they call me. I am death on bugs. In one hour all you will have will be insect corpses. Give me the pass key and I’ll get going.”

  The super passed over the key and Mulligan went out to the elevator. On the sixth floor he stepped out and went to apartment D.

  “HOLY SMOKES!” he let out. “Is this place a menagerie?” The roaches came tearing out from under the door sill, scampering around the hall like they owned the place. Most of them changed their minds when they saw that there was nothing to eat in the corridor and shot back again. Mulligan stamped out a horde of them with his number twelves, inserted the pa
ss key and went inside.

  It was one of those three room affairs, but you would never know it. Tin cans and bread wrappers littered the place, and were the bugs having a swell time! Shoo Fly took one look around at the walls that were walking away and groaned. “What did I do to deserve this? Some mess, I’ll say!”

  So, Mulligan unlimbered his squirt gun and began the extermination. The little creatures flopped off the walls to the floor, gave a couple of kicks and went on to the happy hunting grounds of the insects, where all is bread crumbs and honey.

  Finally, Shoo Fly Mulligan had the walls cleared and poked around the place looking for more victims. He went into the side room that was supposed to be used for a bedroom … and almost fell over! Instead of a bed was the wildest batch of equipment he had ever seen. All nice shiny gadgets, wires and dials. It looked a lot like those fancy radio sets you see in the movies. His curiosity got the better of him, and Mulligan began to fiddle around with the switches.

  SUDDENLY … a low hum rattled out of the stuff. Mulligan hopped back and his fingers sought desperately for the doodad that turned the thing on. No matter what he hit, the hum continued.

  “Now how in blazes did that happen? Why am I always doin’ somethin’ like that?” Idly, he flipped another switch and instead of a hum this time, he got a voice.

  “Yes,” it said. “What do you want?”

  Shoo Fly’s eyebrows raised up to his hairline.

  “Huh?”

  “Who is this!” the voice demanded.

  “This is Shoo Fly Mulligan. Who’re you?”

  “I am Von Rittmeister, the head of the Gestapo. Speak, stupid, what is it!”

  Mulligan wasn’t very smart, but at that he suddenly caught the idea. This place must be the headquarters of the spy ring! And with this radio, they were in constant touch with Germany! As fast as he could, Mulligan put his brain to work, then recognizing what was a microphone, picked it up.

  “This is your American agent.” His eyes hit a map on the wall and picked out a spot. “There’s a fleet of transports going out. They’re meeting forty-five longitude and thirty latitude in a week. Signing off.”

  Mulligan didn’t know what longitude or latitude meant, but it was on the map, so it must mean something! He flipped off a switch before the other guy could answer back, but still couldn’t find the one that caused the hum.

  Oh well, now he could call the police. But then the door creaked open! He turned … and WHAM! Something heavy landed on his head and the lights went out! When he came to, he was sitting in a corner of a room. He tried to rub his head, but his arms were tied behind his back! Mulligan couldn’t help it … he groaned. Immediately, two men stepped into the room. One was old and short. The other was a big bruiser with thick lips and a gleam in his eye that wasn’t pretty to look at. The little man spoke up.

  “So, you are awake, eh? Enjoy yourself, for you won’t be awake long! What were you doing here?”

  “I’m the exterminator, that’s what. How come I’m tied up like this?”

  The pair exchanged glances.

  “Why did you fool with my radio set?”

  “Aw,” Mulligan answered. “I like gadgets, that’s all. Let me up.”

  The old boy nodded and the bruiser helped Shoo Fly to his feet. Then … BLAM! The bruiser’s fist plopped on his jaw, and Mulligan went down! Again and again he was jerked up and knocked down. At last the little fellow called off the strongarm fellow, and both reentered the room with the radio.

  BY this time Shoo Fly Mulligan was mad … very mad! And that tussle did something for him at least. It had so strained his bonds that he could move his hands. Mulligan wasn’t a little man by any means, and the size of his biceps was covered by his shirt. He gave the ropes a healthy pull and they loosened some more. A few more times and they were off. Quickly, he bent down and untied his feet, then stretched himself, pulled up his pants, and spit on his hands. He had some spies to mop up!

  For all his ungainly size, Shoo Fly could move quickly. He went to the front door, knocked twice, and ran behind the door of the other room. When the old guy came out to open the door, a heavy hand grabbed him by his scrawny neck and choked off an outcry. Mulligan held his feet off the ground a while, took a deep breath, then socked! The old boy sailed across the room!

  But he had been heard! The bruiser came on the run, took in the business with a glance of his weasel eyes, and ripped into Shoo Fly. Immediately the place was a bedlam of sound. They tripped over the furniture and got up swinging. A chair smashed to smithereens and a vase crashed on the floor. The bruiser landed one on Mulligan’s jaw that made him see stars, but Shoo Fly come back with a right cross that had the guy spitting teeth all over the place.

  But the awful punishment Mulligan had taken a little earlier was beginning to take effect. His arms were as heavy as lead, and his dome felt like a balloon. The bruiser didn’t seem to be bothered a bit so far except for the loss of his teeth. Both circled each other like pair of lions on the kill … then the Nazi leaped! The charge carried him into Mulligan and they both went down in a heap! Shoo Fly squirmed like mad, got one hand loose and slugged. The big boy rolled off.

  With an agile movement, the Nazi grabbed Mulligan’s hair and slammed it against the floor. As for poor Shoo Fly … the lights just blinked on and off. The other ran to a drawer and yanked it open. His hand snatched up a gun, but Mulligan wasn’t that far gone. The only chance he had, he took. The squirt gun lay on the floor nearby. With a sweeping movement, he scooped it up and pushed the plunger … A great gust of foul-smelling stuff shot into the Nazi’s eyes!

  “HIMMEL! My eyes, my eyes … I’m blind!”

  Mulligan grinned. This was going to be fun. He aimed … then swung … and the Nazi went down for the count.

  Suddenly the door burst open … Men with guns ripped into the place. Shoo Fly thought they were more flies and got ready to fight, but they turned out to be G-men who had intercepted that seemingly harmless hum from the radio and traced it here. When the shouting finally died down, and the two were led off to the clink, while a batch of newshawks took pictures, and a G-man was contacting the Navy to contact the enemy submarines that were supposed to contact American transports that Mulligan reported to the Nazis about, a reporter asked Mulligan how come he managed to get into all this. Shoo Fly smiled broadly.

  “All on account of some bugs,” he answered, “all on account of some bugs!”

  ***

  The Sea Serpent

  WIND-WHIPPED waves made an angry demon of the sea. They rolled across the horizon in turbulent masses, blending with the heavy grey sky overhead. Here and there livid streaks of jagged lightning flashed down, lighting the whole ocean for brief seconds, followed by an ominous rumble of thunder more terrifying than any man-made implements of war. Here off Cape Horn the elements blasted together the defiance of the race of humans that battled on far-flung fronts, challenging them with a voice of terrible fury.

  The people in the small villages on the Cape huddled together. Men in the boats who had seen the storm approach made for the shelter of the port, and breathed a deep sigh of relief when they tied up safely. This was no night for a seaman. When the winds roared down and the sea lashed itself into a frenzy of churning foam, queer things happened … things that were not made for the eyes of a man to see. For it was at this time that the sea told its secrets … and sent to the surface creatures to put fear into the hearts of the bravest person!

  HERMANN HEIDT braced himself in the conning tower of the submarine and watched the waves break over the sleek metal hull. Behind him the ugly forms of five other subs were faintly visible in the dusk, following the U-120 as a dog follows its master. Those six submersibles had braved many a storm to reach their destination … the shipping lanes of the United States. Heidt grinned to himself. The craft were all of the newest, fastest and most deadly design that German experts could put upon the sea. With these as the basis of the Nazi fleet in the Atlantic the war would take
a new turn.

  The commander turned to the water-soaked form of the little man next to him. “Well, are you piloting this boat or not! Need I remind you that if we do not get through the pass to my satisfaction, your sister in our concentration camp will suffer!”

  The little man nodded.

  “I know,” he said softly, “but this night we should not travel. Terrible things happen … the devils below rise to kill!”

  “Ha! What kind of nonsense is that! You people of the cape are all alike! You believe in every story a crazy sailor brings in! Now point out our direction.”

  Little Henry Vinton poked a shaking finger ahead.

  “Follow the coast line to the bend. There is the open sea. Now can you put me ashore?”

  Hermann Heidt smiled, his wide-spaced teeth flashing.

  “Yes, now you may go ashore—” he grabbed Vinton by the waist and flung him from the tower. “—if you can swim! Ha, ha, ha!”

  Henry hit the slippery hull. His fingers sought a hold desperately, but there was none. A wave washed over the sub and he was gone. Fortunately, he was an able swimmer, and with the help of several waves managed to land shaken, but safe, on the beach. Slowly his eyes peered into the gloom.

  He shook his fist. “You who make traitors from honest men, you who kill for the joy of it … the sea will take its revenge. It is something that you will not escape!”

  THE sea was rising higher now. It was dangerous water for submarines, one of those waves could easily break the back of the stoutest hull! The commander shouted down the open hatch to an officer. “Contact the other boats. Keep in close order and submerge. We will have to sit on the bottom until the storm passes over.” Heidt closed shut the instrument cases and descended into the interior, slamming the hatch cover above him.