Escape From Pluto
By WILLIAM OBERFIELD
Exiled to Pluto's harsh wastes, Marcius Kemble
listened eagerly to the evil voices planning his
triumphant return. But even the Plutonians
underestimated the flaming glory to which they sent him.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Fall 1947.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Marcius Kemble stood upon the frozen surface of Pluto and swore aloud.He knew there were none to hear him but, just the same, he shouted intohis plastic space helmet until his ears were ringing, cursing all theplanets and their diverse inhabitants in order, most of all Earth.
You see, Marcius Kemble was an example. He was an example to anyothers, in the year of twenty-two hundred A.D., who would strive torule the solar system. The planets were independent states and theywere to remain that way. For trying to change this, Kemble had beenexiled to unexplored Pluto.
Marcius raised his mailed fist toward the mighty stars and ground outcurses against Earth and all those upon it, wishing that he could callupon it the wrath of Heaven and Hell, for it had been the men of Earthwho had brought about his ultimate downfall.
It had been the age-old story of a power-mad tyrant finding out thesecret grudges of his subjects and working on them to inspire a frenzyof hate, to maneuver them into a war against unsuspecting neighboringnations. He had gained control of the whole of Mars in this way and hadbeen reaching out for the moon-system of Saturn, when the full force ofthe Planetary Combine had come against him, scattering his forces.
The counter offensive had been led by Earth, and it had been an Earthship which, after his short-lived escape, had parachuted him to thecold surface of Pluto. Is it any wonder that he should hate them?
Marcius Kemble looked fearfully around at the bleak, frozen landscapeof Pluto, a cold Hell, hardly reached by the light of the sun. Then hebegan to laugh.
Marcius laughed into the little plastic world of his helmet and thesound roared back into his own ears, and he laughed louder. Tearsstreamed down over the contact lenses in his eyes and caused the whitemountains to gesticulate and beckon to him.
He was beginning to see it all very clearly now. It wasn't his ownlaughter in his helmet. The white mountains were laughing at him, thestars and sun were laughing, and all the people of all the planets. Itwas all concentrated into his ears by the curve of his helmet.
They were spying on him to see what he would do, laughing because hecould do nothing, their voices filling his head, asking who he was,what he was going to do now, mocking him. He would show them! Run tothe laughing white mountains, cast them into an ocean, crush thembeneath his feet! That would put them in their places! Do it now!
Marcius pulled himself to his feet. He knew that he had been runningand had fallen, striking his helmet upon something hard, and thathe had been laughing, crying and cursing at the same time. Thereverberating blow had shocked him into silence. And he was rememberingthe words of the doctor who had cared for him, back on Mars.
The doctor had said, "You have a great mind, Sire, and a very strongwill, but there are some flaws, as in all men. If you should knowdefeat, your only hope will be death. Living, your mind would refuse togive up, beating itself into insanity against a blank wall."
Now, Marcius knew what the doctor had meant. There were still thevoices in his mind repeating over and over, "Who are you?—Who areyou?" almost as if they were mocking the beating of his heart.
There