The Starchild’s thrusters roared as it settled to the barren surface of Ultra-Mega Four. The shining patrol rocket was a perfect twin for the Double Moon, which lay parked just a dozen yards away.
Swinging open the hatch, Lance and Timmy eyed their fellow ASFR ship with troubled eyes. “No hail from them,” Timmy observed with concern. “Do you think they’re okay?”
“They are on a survey mission,” Lance said hopefully. “Maybe they’re just out surveying.”
Timmy gazed around the bleak landscape. “Not much to survey. Looks like every other planet we visit.”
“True,” Lance agreed as they strode across to the other ship. “That’s why so many aliens want to conquer the Earth. It’s the one planet where the rocks don’t look like papier-mache.” He raised a hand to knock on the Double Moon’s hatch, but before he could, it swung ominously inward.
“Uh-oh,” said Timmy. “Not good.” Exchanging a glance, they drew their rayguns. Cautiously, they stepped inside – and were met by an incredible sight.
Captain Mel S. O’Cosmos lay sprawled on the cockpit floor, his huge muscles quivering and twitching helplessly. His eyes were glazed, his mouth open and drooling slightly. Close beside his captain, Lieutenant Rusty F. Armboy sat slumped against a console, clad from head to toe in a skintight purple body-suit. His hands stroked the material feverishly, pressing it against his slim body, which trembled spastically in response. His Rocketeer uniform lay at his side, discarded. His green eyes were as clouded as Mel’s, his jaw slack, and the only sounds that either man made were deep, heavy breathing and long, shuddering moans.
A few feet away, the third member of the crew, Lieutenant Chip Carson, stood motionless. His face was expressionless; his normal healthy skin tone and dark hair had both changed to a uniform grey. His blankly staring eyes shone silver. In his raised hands he held a raygun of unique design.
“Hey!” exclaimed Timmy, regaining his voice after a stunned moment. “That’s the Neutronic Robot Ray – the one we confiscated in ‘Lance Storm and the Galaxy Pirates’!”
“And this man is now a robot,” Lance nodded grimly. He tapped Chip’s cheek, which made a hard metallic sound. “Robot, answer our questions. Who did this to you?”
Chip’s voice was a monotone. “Un-it did this to it-self.”
“Kinky!” cried Timmy. “I mean – but why?”
“Un-it read note de-liv-ered in pack-age and was com-pelled to o-bey.”
They turned to stare at the large box sitting on the worktable, a sheet of paper lying draped over one edge. Lance started to reach for it, then hesitated. “Um…robot, recite contents of note.”
Chip emitted a few clicking sounds, then dictated flatly:
“Great news, guys. I saved the u-ni-verse yes-ter-day, so I’ve got some ex-tra leave time. I’ll be drop-ping in on you soon. Till then, here’s some-thing to get you in the mood for Mas-ter:
“Mel: You now feel me mak-ing love to you, just as if I was al-rea-dy there. It won’t stop till I ar-rive in per-son and take o-ver.
“Rus-ty: Put on the suit in the box. It’s made of e-rot-ex, the Or-gas-mi-an rub-ber that in-duc-es to-tal ec-sta-sy.
“Chip: Zap your-self with the gun in the box. Your dream of be-com-ing a ro-bot slave is a-bout to be real-ized.
“See ya soon, dudes – Er-os.”
“So that’s why he came here!” exclaimed Timmy, then grinned. “Well, at least we know these guys aren’t suffering. And we can unzap the robot just by putting the gun in reverse. But what about the other two? They’re not gonna be much help in finding Eros like this.”
Chip whirred again. “P. S. If an-y-one I know comes a-long and wants to re-lease you, this or-der comes from me: Don’t e-ven think a-bout it. E.”
Lance and Timmy blinked. “Okay,” said Lance, “they’re stuck this way. But I may know a way they can still help us. Chip, pick up your shipmates and follow me.”
“Un-it o-beys.” With stiff, mechanical movements, Chip Carson lifted his helpless buddies, his steel body bearing their combined weight effortlessly. They didn’t even seem to feel it as he slung each over one shoulder and plodded in Lance’s footsteps back to the Starchild. There, Lance strode purposefully across the exercise deck and stopped before a closet bearing a large warning sign:
Swinging the door open, Lance nodded as he saw the empty rack where the Robot Ray belonged. He scanned the rows of bizarre devices, fondly kept as souvenirs of their encounters with space’s most diabolical villains. After a moment he lifted one out, exclaiming, “Here we are – the Puppetron Helmet! Used by the nefarious Prince Pheriquene to turn the contestants at the Mr. Multiverse Contest into human puppets.” With a glance at Timmy, he added, “That was while you were away, Junior.”
“Gosh!” the lad lamented. “I miss all the cool stuff!”1
Lance tapped the ornate headgear with its crystal “eye” and twin lightning-bolt decals. “The Puppetron enslaves the body of anyone struck by its beam, but without affecting his thoughts – so we might be able to use it to order these two to act normally, even though they’re still under Eros’ influence. It’ll need to be recharged, though.”
“Could we borrow some energy from the Starchild’s engines?”
“Exactly what I was thinking. I’ll go rig it up. You and Chip stay here – see if you can find out anything useful from him.” “Right-o, skipper!” As Lance headed to the engine room, Timmy looked the robot over, admiring his trim figure. “Gosh, Chip, I hope you don’t mind being a robot. There’s kinda nothing we can do. You’re not upset, are you?”
“Neg-a-tive. Un-it al-ways want-ed to be-come ro-bot.”
“Really?” Timmy brightened. “So you’re happy now?”
“Un-it’s e-mo-tions re-strict-ed to sub-rou-tine. Un-it has on-ly one pri-ma-ry func-tion: O-bey all or-gan-ic life forms.”
“Hmm.” The tall young cadet looked again at the boyishly handsome face and athletic figure transformed into steel. “So the nearest you can come to feeling happy is obeying commands?”
“Af-firm-a-tive.”
“Well, darn. It would be a shame not to give you some…”
Half an hour later, Lance returned with the Puppetron Helmet, now glowing with an eerie energy. He stopped short at the sight of his teen sidekick stretched on the floor nude, gasping happily as Chip Carson mechanically pounded a steel cock into his ass. Lance shook his head, chuckling. “You rascal!”
“I’m – helping – Chip – fulfill – his – prim – ary – function! ” the youth explained.
Lance nodded. “A kindly and generous thought, lad. But now there’s work to be done.”
“Okay. Stop, Chip.” Timmy pulled himself together and staggered to his feet. “Thanks, it was great,” he added graciously to the robotized Rocketeer, who continued to lie on the floor, motionless.
“Now let’s see.” Lance studied the helmet a moment, then placed it on his head. “The helmet operates by psychic energy, creating a lasting telepathic link between the wearer’s mind and the victim’s neural network. So all I should have to do is concentrate…”
He stared at the prone figures of Mel and Rusty, still writhing spasmodically. A second later, twin beams of magenta light shot forth from the helmet’s “eye”, striking the men. Instantly their movements ceased.
“Mel. Rusty. Stand up,” Lance tried experimentally.
Immediately the two men rose, standing at attention. They stood impassively, eyes straight ahead, Rusty’s trim swimmer’s build dwarfed by his captain’s massive mass of muscle.
“Okay. Now let’s try this: I command you to act like your normal selves.”
The Rocketeers remained as they were, unmoving.
“Blast!” Lance swore, then glanced at his sidekick. “Sorry, youngster. I’m upset.”
“Try something more specific,” Timmy suggested helpfully.
“Hmm, okay. Guys, tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Rats!” Mel burst out at once. “I wanted to obey that, but I couldn’t!”
“Me too,” Rusty chimed in. “I have a downright compulsion to be my normal self, but it’s like my body doesn’t know how.”
Timmy snapped his fingers. “Of course! Your minds know what to do, but it’s your bodies that are puppetized, and they can’t respond to something that complex.”
“What about your minds?” Lance asked with concern. “How are you dealing with all this? Um, answer.”
“Oh, man, I’m goin’ nuts!” Mel groaned. “I’ve been feeling Phantom Eros’ hands all over me since yesterday – my whole nervous system’s about to overload!”
“And I’ve been – ” Rusty searched for words – “I’ve been used by this suit as its love-toy for just as long! If I don’t find some kinda release, I’m gonna pass out!”
Having obeyed the order, they both shut up, blank-faced and immobile again.
“Gosh!” cried Timmy. “We have to help them!”
“Just let me think,” Lance mused, pacing back and forth, taking care to step over the still figure of Chip. “I need to phrase this exactly right…” After a few moments he stopped and turned to the puppet duo, smiling. “Okay. I order you each to make love to the man here who attracts you most, in the way that you’ll enjoy the most.”
There was a moment while they took that in. Then Mel strode directly toward Lance, wrapped powerful arms around his big body, and gave him a long, passionate kiss. Meanwhile Rusty advanced to Timmy, with a faint blush. Beaming at the cute redhead, the handsome lad reached out to stroke his freckled cheek, then pulled him into a lip-lock. The contact, of course, pressed the erotex against Rusty’s naked flesh even tighter, and the combo caused him to cum explosively, with a veritable howl of release. Timmy threw back his head with a joyous laugh. “Oh, no! You lost your cum! Here, have some of mine.” He gestured commandingly for Rusty to drop to his knees, and the man obeyed, a look of worship appearing in his eyes.
Meanwhile Mel had moved from Lance’s mouth to planting love-bites on his broad shoulders, their blue spandex uniforms slipping smoothly off. Mel’s big hands reached around front to stroke Lance’s balls and his swelling cock, making him gasp with pleasure. Lance knew that if he chose, he had absolute control over this mountain of muscle; but as Mel’s ten-inch rod pressed against his butt-cheeks, he decided to just forget that for now…
Eros stood in the shadows of the underground lair as he had stood for the past eighteen hours – as he had been standing since the moment he was stopped in mid-motion aboard his shuttle, one hand raised in an unfinished gesture, mouth open to speak words that had never come. Now he had no voice; his lithe, muscular body was just an inanimate object. Which might have been a kick, except that while he remained a thing of beauty, and possibly destined to be a joy forever, the power of his body to enslave other men was utterly gone.
He was acutely aware of that as his captor’s lips once again slurped on his unresponding cock and balls. The sensation was still an enjoyable one, but it was getting damned frustrating to have no means of release. What would it feel like after a week, or a month, or a year?
There was a sudden distraction as the teleceiver buzzed sharply. Startled, his abductor scrambled to his feet and out of Eros’ frozen range of vision. “Hello?” he said cautiously.
“Galaxy Pizza,” came a tinny voice, obviously on audio only. “We got your pies.”
“What? I didn’t order pizza!”
“This is the address, right – Ultra-Mega Four? Uh, we had some trouble finding it, though. It took us more than a parsec, so I guess you got a freebie. Can’t say no to a freebie, right?”
“No. You’re right, I can’t pass this up. I’ll be right out to meet you.” There was the snap of a connection being broken. Then his captor spoke again: “No, I can’t pass up a freebie like this one!” With a disturbing laugh, his footsteps hurried away.
Several minutes later, Eros heard the approach of other voices – voices that filled him with joy.
“I knew it would work! The pizza trick fools ’em every time.” “Chip’s calculations were right on the ball, too. With his laseronic vision, he projected just where the alien ship that attacked Eros landed.”
“Are you so sure it was an alien, cadet? Look at some of the equipment scattered around this devil’s lair. Doesn’t it look familiar?”
“By gosh, you’re right, Lance – that’s ASFR standard issue!”
“Look!”
A second later, two beloved faces were looking into Eros’. “Oh, Lance,” said Timmy, wide-eyed, “is that really…?”
Lance’s eyes were misty. “It’s Eros. The real Eros. But he’s – turned to stone.”
Timmy placed a hand on Eros’ chest. “No heartbeat. He’s just…cold.”
But alive! Eros wanted to shout. I see you, hear you, feel you! I’m as alive as you!
“We’ll take him home with us,” Lance said with great tenderness, hugging his young companion comfortingly. “To keep and treasure forever.”
Someone already beat you to it! Eros cried inwardly. Have you forgotten where you are? Snap out of it and watch your backs!
“Ahem,” said a voice.
Oh, shit.
Lance and Timmy spun around, raising their rayguns – just in time for twin beams of magenta light to freeze them in their tracks.
A tall figure stepped from the shadows, made taller by the Puppetron Helmet perched on its head. Moving into the light, their captor was revealed as an attractive young man, little older than Timmy, with a surprisingly innocent face. And he was wearing, of all things, a Rocketeer’s uniform!
“Yes,” he smirked. “While you were sneaking into my headquarters, I snuck into yours and stole the helmet. Your friends saw me, of course, but they couldn’t lift a finger to stop me, ’cause nobody told them to. I’ve been watching your every move since before you left Earth. Ask me how.”
“How?” they chorused obediently – the only move their puppetized bodies could make. Both were straining every highly-trained muscle, trying desperately to tackle this mocking stranger who stood almost within reach, but those muscles were no longer theirs to control. Their rayguns were pointed straight at him, but their hands might as well have belonged to someone else – as, in fact, they now did.
“I’ve had secret spy cameras hidden in your ship for days,” their controller explained smugly. “It was easy for me – but then, perhaps I should introduce myself. Ensign Dougie Dweeberman, ASFR, at your service.” His expression became sour. “You’ve never heard of me, have you? Tell the truth.”
“No,” they admitted.
“Of course not,” he said with resentment. “And yet I know all about you. I’ve followed every one of your adventures, ever since the Invasion from Space. I’ve chronicled all your daring stratagems, your hairbreadth escapes, your two-fisted action…while I sat there in my file room, annotating, cross-referencing, living your wonderful lives through the pages of mission reports. You got all that, and I got – these.” He ran a hand lovingly over a row of files, bound in magazine format: “Lance Storm and the Meteor Menace”, “Lance Storm and the Renegade Robots”, and a score of others, all with gaudy, lurid cover illustrations. He lifted one from near the end of the row, holding it up for them to see. “But most of all…you got him.”
The cover art showed Lance, naked, jumping through a hoop held by a nude, magnetically sexy Eros. It brought a lump to Lance’s throat: it represented their relationship so well… “You got him,” Dougie Dweeberman repeated intensely. “You got to see him every day, to touch him, to love him – and I got to file the reports.” He walked right between their immobile figures, to stand before the marble statue that was their shipmate. “But now he’s mine – all mine. Mine forever,” he sighed, caressing Eros’ stone pecs with a sensual hand.
“It’s a pity,” Dougie mused, turning back to circle his helpless puppets, “that the helmet can’t make you act normally. I could’ve just sent you back to cover my trail. I’d prefer that, really. I admire you guys so much. But since that doesn’t work, you’ll just have to stay here – for good.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I could let you be my puppet slaves. As you know, the telepathic link lasts forever unless I choose to let you go, over any distance, whether I’m wearing the helmet at the moment or not. It’s darned heavy, isn’t it?” He took it off and set it on the shelf beside the files, wiping his brow. Timmy strained anew to move even a single muscle, but Dweeberman was right – it was his mind that now enslaved them. The helmet had just made it possible.
“But that would be too much work, y’know?” the rogue Rocketeer went on. “I’d have to keep telling you when to eat, when to sleep, when to pee… Nah, it’s just too much effort.” He reached over to a shelf and took down a sleek, sinister-looking ray-rifle. “Now this – this is simple. One zap and you’re statues forever. Beautiful, immortal dolls of stone.
“Shall we stick with the action pose? You do look dynamic.” He ran his hands admiringly over their taut biceps, then shook his head. “No, something even more fitting for you. Something to immortalize your love.” He lifted the guns from their helpless fingers. “Kiss and grope each other.”
They turned and embraced tightly, their tongues entwining, their hands clutching at each other feverishly – knowing with each movement that it might be their last. Dougie was right in one way - if they were doomed to be stone for eternity, at least they would be in each other’s arms.
“Great!” he enthused from outside their range of vision. “Ready – aim – “
He was cut off by a loud, heavy thump. From the corners of their eyes, they saw Dougie drop to the floor, a large bump rising on the back of his head. Then a new voice spoke from beyond their field of view:
“Haaa!” it cried in a twisted mockery of laughter. “The Puppetron Helmet and the petrifying ray are mine! Nothing in the world can stop me now!”
It was a crazed, evil voice that they knew all too well – the voice of their arch-nemesis –
The Malevolent Doctor Saturn!
Oh, no! What will befall our helpless heroes now? Will they become puppet slaves to this fiend of fiends? Statues for eternity? Or – something worse?
Don’t miss the thrilling conclusion!
1 “Lance Storm and the Puppets of Peril,” originally announced as the lead story for Thrilling Planets # 28, was replaced by “Lance Storm and the Galaxy Pirates” due to readers’ demand for the return of Timmy. Many fans believe that the author’s pointed mention of it here was an attempt to create a demand for publication of the “lost story”. It finally saw print in the 1952 Kobold Press anthology, Lance Storm of the ASFR.Sirs,
I feel that the time has come to protest the change of content which has occurred in recent issues of Thrilling Planets. Where once this magazine was seen as a bastion of quality in the field of science fiction, it has become instead a home for the puerile, the decadent, and the downright un-American.
This sad trend is most painfully evident in the demise of one of your longest-running features, the highly-regarded “Fred of the Martian Legion” series, in favor of yet more stories featuring the overrated Lance Storm. The “Storm” series has become not only wildly improbable, but positively harmful in its influence on the impressionable young reader. This “hero” violates all the sacred traditions of the military, constantly appearing out of uniform and without even a shirt and tie. He allows his own second-in-command, an officer of lower rank (and not even human!), to give him orders! Where is the proper chain of command? And worse, his own superior officer seems to approve! But then, by showing a woman in command of a military organization, the author has sacrificed all credibility already.
Perhaps it is asking too much to even inquire why “Cadet Timmy” is being included in his captain’s dangerous missions. Why is he not in school, like any normal boy his age? What are his parents thinking? (In this sad age of broken families, one shudders to ask: Does he even have parents?)
In “Fred of the Martian Legion” you had a superlative example of a series with healthy, traditional family values. Fred was never shown out of uniform – he wore his beloved Martian reds even to bed! He was an upright pillar of propriety at all times, addressing fellow officers strictly by rank, and the young folks kindly as “young man” or “young lady”. In his scientifically accurate stories (no absurd space aliens or “ray guns” there!), he gave readers an educational look at a realistic future. He will be missed, and his memory treasured long after Lance Storm is forgotten.
If the editors do not see fit to return to Thrilling Planets the dignity and credibility it has lost, I fear that a decline in sales will be the price of their folly.
Sincerely, |
Part 1 | Part 3 | |