A Case for Brutus Lloyd Read online

  BORGO PRESS BOOKS BY JOHN RUSSELL FEARN

  1,000-Year Voyage: A Science Fiction Novel

  Anjani the Mighty: A Lost Race Novel (Anjani #2)

  Black Maria, M.A.: A Classic Crime Novel (Black Maria #1)

  A Case for Brutus Lloyd

  The Crimson Rambler: A Crime Novel

  Don’t Touch Me: A Crime Novel

  Dynasty of the Small: Classic Science Fiction Stories

  The Empty Coffins: A Mystery of Horror

  The Fourth Door: A Mystery Novel

  From Afar: A Science Fiction Mystery

  Fugitive of Time: A Classic Science Fiction Novel

  The G-Bomb: A Science Fiction Novel

  The Genial Dinosaur (Herbert the Dinosaur #2)

  The Gold of Akada: A Jungle Adventure Novel (Anjani #1)

  Here and Now: A Science Fiction Novel

  Into the Unknown: A Science Fiction Tale

  Last Conflict: Classic Science Fiction Stories

  Legacy from Sirius: A Classic Science Fiction Novel

  The Man from Hell: Classic Science Fiction Stories

  The Man Who Was Not: A Crime Novel

  Manton’s World: A Classic Science Fiction Novel

  Moon Magic: A Novel of Romance (as Elizabeth Rutland)

  The Murdered Schoolgirl: A Classic Crime Novel (Black Maria #2)

  One Remained Seated: A Classic Crime Novel (Black Maria #3)

  One Way Out: A Crime Novel (with Philip Harbottle)

  Pattern of Murder: A Classic Crime Novel

  Reflected Glory: A Dr. Castle Classic Crime Novel

  Robbery Without Violence: Two Science Fiction Crime Stories

  Rule of the Brains: Classic Science Fiction Stories

  Shattering Glass: A Crime Novel

  The Silvered Cage: A Scientific Murder Mystery

  Slaves of Ijax: A Science Fiction Novel

  Something from Mercury: Classic Science Fiction Stories

  The Space Warp: A Science Fiction Novel

  A Thing of the Past (Herbert the Dinosaur #1)

  Thy Arm Alone: A Classic Crime Novel (Black Maria #4)

  The Time Trap: A Science Fiction Novel

  Vision Sinister: A Scientific Detective Thriller

  Voice of the Conqueror: A Classic Science Fiction Novel

  What Happened to Hammond? A Scientific Mystery

  Within That Room!: A Classic Crime Novel

  THE GOLDEN AMAZON SAGA

  1. World Beneath Ice

  2. Lord of Atlantis

  3. Triangle of Power

  4. The Amethyst City

  5. Daughter of the Amazon

  6. Quorne Returns

  7. The Central Intelligence

  8. The Cosmic Crusaders

  9. Parasite Planet

  10. World Out of Step

  11. The Shadow People

  12. Kingpin Planet

  13. World in Reverse

  14. Dwellers in Darkness

  15. World in Duplicate

  16. Lords of Creation

  17. Duel with Colossus

  18. Standstill Planet

  19. Ghost World

  20. Earth Divided

  21. Chameleon Planet (with Philip Harbottle)

  COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

  Copyright © 1940, 1942, 1954 by John Russell Fearn

  Copyright © 2011, 2013 by Philip Harbottle

  Published by Wildside Press LLC

  www.wildsidebooks.com

  DEDICATION

  For Bob Adey

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  These stories were previously published as follows, and are reprinted by permission of the author’s estate and his agent, Cosmos Literary Agency:

  “Blind Vision” was first published as “The Man Who Saw Two Worlds” in Amazing Stories, January 1940. Copyright © 1940 by John Russell Fearn; Copyright © 2011 by Philip Harbottle.

  “Case of the Murdered Savants” was first published in Amazing Stories, April 1940. Copyright 1940 by John Russell Fearn; Copyright © 2011 by Philip Harbottle.

  “Case of the Mezoic Monsters” was first published in Amazing Stories, May 1942. Copyright © 1942 by John Russell Fearn; Copyright © 2011 by Philip Harbottle.

  “The Copper Bullet” was first published in Vargo Statten British SF Magazine, January, 1954. Copyright © 1954 by John Russell Fearn; Copyright © 2012 by Philip Harbottle.

  BLIND VISION

  I. STRANGE ACCIDENT

  Ralph Marshall never knew what really happened. One minute he was carrying on his normal work as mining engineer, supervising the drilling of the giant shaft which it was hoped would one day pass under the Atlantic Ocean from the United States to Britain—and the next there was the sound of smashing concussion in his ears and blinding light before his eyes. He stumbled and fell amidst a rain of tumbling rocks, props, and underpinnings....

  Voices merged out of darkness. Sounds of instruments clinking and tinkling in glass vessels. Ralph Marshall felt throbbing pain throughout his body. He stirred and winced. A nurse’s voice spoke to him gently.

  “Just relax, Mr. Marshall. You’ll be all right.”

  He obeyed perforce, piecing together the past events. There was a wadding of bandages across his eyes, tight binding round his arm. It felt as though his leg were in a plaster cast. But his biggest worry was the dark—total, pitchy. Had his sight gone? Had it been destroyed in the mine blowout? That was something he did not dare to think about.

  But as hours and days slid by, as days slipped into weeks, as the rest of his body healed and his eyes did not, he began to realize the truth. He realized it all the more clearly when the bandages were unwound from his face and he raised his eyelids. The darkness remained unchanged.

  “Doc!” he shouted hoarsely, gripping the hand that held him. “Doc, what’s wrong with me? I can’t see! Everything’s...black!”

  The voice of Dr. Talford Flint, chief doctor of the hospital, sounded as impartial as ever.

  “Just sit here, Mr. Marshall, while we take a look at you.”

  Ralph fumbled for the high-backed chair and fell into it, where he sat motionless, breathing hard, staring into the abyss. He heard the whirr and buzz of electrical machinery, the mutter of voices in consultation.

  Suddenly, sharp questions stabbed from the dark.

  “Can you see this? No? Well—this? No reaction? Hm....”

  More muttering. Dr. Flint’s voice rose higher than the others with its sharp, acid sting.

  “The eyes react normally, I tell you! Optic nerves are quite in order. Maybe a case of temporary shock. Nonsense, man!” he scoffed at somebody. “Nonsense! Cannot be the brain-centres....”

  Ralph sprang up suddenly. “Would somebody mind telling me what the devil’s going on in here?” he demanded, almost with a touch of hysteria. “Stop cackling, can’t you, and let me have the truth!”

  Flint’s voice replied, monotonously calm. “If we could tell you what is wrong with your eyes, Mr. Marshall, we would do so—but we cannot! They answer to every one of our tests, and for that reason you should be able to see. That you cannot see is something we are unable to explain. It’s—it’s temporary blindness and will pass off eventually, just as snow-blindness does.”

  “And supposing it doesn’t?” Ralph stood mastering himself. He went on desperately, “There must be somebody who can diagnose, surely?”

  “In this room are the best experts in optics, Mr. Marshall,” Flint retorted. “Your firm insisted on the best possible specialists to examine you.... That has been done. It is simply a case of your eyes not answering to normal optical laws, that’s all. We can do nothing more to help you—but keep on calling nonetheless so we can note an improvement the moment i
t appears. We’ll keep thorough track of your case, of course.”

  Ralph smiled bitterly. “Thorough track!” That was the last thing he could imagine this cold-blooded fish, Talford Flint, ever doing. Though he had never yet seen him, he had long since summed up the man’s nature from his ruthless voice.

  Ralph said quietly, “Well, thanks....” A hand caught his arm. He could tell by the cool draught when he was in the main passage. Then another hand caught him—a strong hand he immediately recognized, that of Ed Rutter, his assistant engineer on the Shaft.

  “Good to see you around on your pins again, Ralph.” Ed’s voice was genuinely pleased. “How’s tricks?”

  “Not so hot, I guess.” Ralph fingered his dark glasses and gave a brief account of the medico’s edict as they passed down the steps together.

  “They’re crazy!” was Ed’s summing up. “I dragged you out of that blowout myself. You got a smack on the head, a cracked leg, and a burned arm—nothing more. You’ll be okay, don’t worry. In the meantime you can hitch to me. I’ll keep the flies off you.”

  “That,” Ralph said quietly, “is the part I don’t like. You know I’m not built to rely on other people. I’ve got to do things myself, with my own two hands— Oh, hell, why did this have to happen to me?”

  Ed said philosophically, “I suppose things can happen to the best of us. Stop worrying, man. Just keep on digging in with me at the apartment until you get right again.”

  Ralph gripped the strong hand gratefully. He needed no words to convince him of the tough, red-haired engineer’s loyalty. Ed Rutter was the sort of man who’d give his right arm in defence of somebody he really liked.

  There was a long silence between them after that. Then after a while Ralph noted from the increasing roar of traffic that they had come into the heart of New York. In his mind’s eye he could see the way to their apartment, could also see the three-mile distance of crisscrossing streets that led to the vast excavations at the Shaft entrance. Three times a shaft had been attempted, and still it was incomplete.

  For Ralph all that was over now, he felt. He had to pattern a new sort of life. He had money saved, plenty of it. The firm had intimated they would grant him a life pension. Did that imply that they thought he would never...? He crushed the thought from his mind.

  Over the meal in the apartment Ed’s voice went on in forced cheeriness. Ralph did not listen to all the things he said. His thoughts were on his immediate predicament. Then he started violently as the alarm clock went off—that infernal clock, always going off at the wrong time, moving itself along the mantelshelf by the very vibration of its ringing.

  Ed leapt for it, jammed on the silencer.

  “Tell you what,” he said, turning again. “Why not let me go and get you one of those dogs? You know—eyes of the blind, and all that. I don’t want to rub it in, but you could get about.”

  “Thanks—no,” Ralph answered curtly. “I haven’t given up hope yet, Ed. A dog to run around with me would sort of make me feel tied down. I’ll get better—somehow.”

  “But until you do—”

  “Oh, quit worrying me, can’t you?” Ralph blazed.

  Ed relaxed and lighted a cigarette. Ralph crushed out his own cigarette with strong, knotty fingers. Thereafter he drummed on the table with a definite desperation of spirit.

  * * * *

  In the ensuing days Ralph Marshall debated many courses of action. Should he just vanish from sight? Should he put an end to himself? He did not consider it would be cowardice: he was a firm believer in ridding the world of useless material, organic or inorganic. He might.... No: there was always the thought he might recover.

  A week passed. In that week his moods were those of a man driven to distraction. He had periods of smouldering calm; then he flew into berserk rages, ranted, finally apologized—and Ed Rutter came from and went to work on the Shaft with calm, cheerful understanding. He knew only too well the ordeal his dynamic, energetic friend was undergoing.

  Then something happened! One of the mornings when he was left alone as usual Ralph noticed something queer. There was a puncture in the abyss of darkness—a tiny hole of light!

  Ralph’s whole being suddenly exploded with hysterical delight. He sat staring at that hole, rolling his eyes to make sure, but whichever way he turned his eyes the hole remained. It was perhaps as large as a pea. Straining to the utmost, he tried to analyze what he saw. He held his hand before his face, but for some reason could not see any trace of his hand at all in the hole. Not that that discouraged him: he remained confident that he would do so before long.

  He phoned the news to Ed down in the Shaft. That evening they had a celebration supper on the strength of it. From then on Ed was as keenly interested as Ralph himself in the gradual expansion of that hole day by day. Once or twice Ralph toyed with the idea of going back to the hospital for an examination, then decided against it. Better to get himself wholly well before being tested and proven all right for work again.

  The hole grew. With the growth came a sense of dawning wonder to Ralph. Four days later it was large enough to encompass a quarter of his vision, but he was not looking at anything in the apartment! He walked in bewilderment from room to room, but he never saw a familiar thing, and certainly failed to observe the furniture with which he collided. And yet the scene changed as he moved about. He saw things that in their partial state he could not understand or reconcile. Otherwise it seemed he was as blind as ever. He still could not see his waving hands in front of his face, could not see a sign of anything immediately around him.

  His first hopes began to diminish, but not entirely. There was definite interest in watching the development of returning sight—though what sort of a world he was going to look into he dared not imagine.

  He purposely kept most of the truth from Ed, only told him enough to let him believe he was recovering very gradually. In another week the vision was completely clear to Ralph, and sitting on the divan in the living room one morning with his dark glasses off, he gazed—and gazed.

  He was alone in the apartment; he knew that—but instead of being in the apartment, he was apparently sitting on the sidewalk of a tremendously long main street. He gazed down it steadily, remarking the absolute clarity of detail.

  People passed him constantly but never glanced at him—busy people, men and women, just as he had always known them, except that their attire was rather different to prevailing fashion. It struck him as curious, but here and there people came straight toward him and passed on—through him! He was convinced of it after a while, and the sensation was startling.

  He studied this particular section of city carefully. It was not familiar in the least, was apparently a mass of rearing towers. Here and there were bullet-nosed rocket airplanes, far in advance of any known to modern civilization.

  The buildings seemed to have millions of windows. Directional towers for aircraft were atop every edifice. There were car parks high in the air, floor upon floor, driven by endless belt systems. All ground space was devoted to traffic ways and open parks, with special sidewalks for pedestrians.

  Even the traffic was peculiar. There was not a single recognizable make of automobile in sight, and what there were moved silently and swiftly. It was odd, Ralph reflected—in fact, fantastic. He could see all this activity, which should have made the din of a super-modem city, yet all he could hear was the pounding tick of that old-fashioned alarm clock on the mantel. He closed his eyes momentarily and the vision was shut out; but it was there again when he opened them once more.

  His exact emotions were unfathomable. In one sense he was profoundly disappointed, because he was obviously as blind as ever; yet in another he was aware of a feeling of triumph at being the dissociated observer of something bafflingly complex. This required study.

  So to Ed Rutter he only gave brief reports and wore dark glasses whenever Ed was about. But week after week thereafter he studied the city by day and night, the periods of daylight and darkn
ess corresponding exactly with those of the normal world.

  Among other things Ralph took advantage of Ed’s suggestion. He got a dog. Thereby he was enabled to extend the scope of his activity. At first he was faced with considerable confusion. Walking down the main street in the other city, for instance, demanded walking through a New York emporium and leaving by the back entrance! To gain elevation and study the city properly he had to go to the top of New York’s highest buildings.

  Everywhere his dog unfailingly guided him. Everywhere the faces of the Others looked unseeingly at him. He was the invisible observer of a great, mysterious, busy world.

  It was perhaps inevitable that the vision of this new world should affect Ralph with increasing force. His body was in the normal world, but sight was elsewhere! He got into the habit of calling to the people passing by him—and getting no answer, of course—of repeating the various proclamations on the signs and posters he saw, all of them in an unknown language. He began to build up a small vocabulary, both from looking at newspapers over people’s shoulders and watching the things they did, or the things they indicated, when they spoke. He became gradually adept in lip reading.

  There was something else too. In this other plane matter was no barrier to him. He passed through walls and people as easily as people passed through him. Yet of course it was impossible for him to touch anything.

  Ralph forgot his caution as time went on. His interest was utterly absorbed. On more than one occasion Ed was surprised to find him in the act of apparently talking to himself in unknown jargon, staring straight before him while he did it. It worried Ed not a little. He thought he took the right course when he reported the matter back to the hospital.

  Accordingly, the hospital contacted Ralph’s firm. They in turn made arrangements, and one morning Dr. Flint himself and two other experts turned up at the apartment.

  Once the brief examination was over, Ralph sat in his bedroom, waiting, listening to the voices floating through the fanlight over the door.

  “I cannot help but think he needs attention, gentlemen,” Ed was saying earnestly. “Being left alone too much maybe. Probably affecting his mind. He talks to himself, does queer things. He even thinks at times that he is in a street when standing in this room!”