Ole Doc Methuselah by L. Ron Hubbard Read Free Book Online Page A

it and investigate.
    Blanchard
waved a careless hand. “Make sure she’s silent and then throw her in. Things
are too complicated now for any part of that.” He motioned to Dart and went
on.
    The
three opened the chest and stood for a moment looking down at Alicia Elston.
    Dart
felt the chill deepening into his brittle bones as he slithered after his
master. He looked out at the stars which winked and glared and saw, suddenly,
that all this immensity was small indeed. Hardly a livable planet in this
galaxy remained where a Soldier of Light had not trod. A thin, luminous wheel
faintly beckoned—but it was difficult to get passage on an intergalactic ship.
Passports, money, time. And a man with a slave passport such as his would not
get far. The very stars seemed to be crowding down against him, pressing into his
skull. He clawed suddenly at his mask for his breath was quick, and the abrupt
flood of oxygen into his lungs made his pointed ears shrink and ring and the
path before him blurred.
    Blanchard
cursed him as he stumbled and would have said more except for the hum of
voices, hive-like, which came from the main section of the town. Uncertainly,
Blanchard paused. He hesitated for some time at the edge of the field where
stood the Morgue, rubbing his sweating palm against the butt of his
blaster. The hum increased and there were angry shouts.
    Pointing
at the crude landing tower beside them, Blanchard ordered Dart up, watching his
slave intently.
    From
the top, Dart viewed the town square and held on hard.
    â€œWell?”
yelled Blanchard.
    â€œIt’s
a big mob!” Dart shouted back. There was hysteria in his voice. “That Soldier
is up there on a platform talking to them! He’s got a portable speaker but I
can’t hear—”
    A
renewed and savage howl came from the town, blotting Dart’s words. Blanchard
started across the field to the Morgue.
    He
scouted the big ship for a moment and then boldly, with past familiarity,
wrenched open the port and went into the main control section. His eyes
scorched over the walls until they found the long-range weapon rack. He
wrenched a missile thrower from its clamps and fitted its telescopic sight upon
it. A moment later he was back at the landing tower and climbing.
    His
white fingers trembled as they gripped the hewn crossbars, for he was well
aware of the crime he contemplated and all that it might involve. But his
fingers did not tremble when he leveled the missile thrower and there was only
bitter calculation in his eye as he gazed through the scope, into the lighted
square.
    Ole
Doc’s image wavered in the glass and then steadied. The finder against height
registered six hundred and eighty meters. The sight whined for an instant and
then flashed green. As the sight opened again, the entire square leaped into
the widened spotter field and the black light of the sight itself came back
with all images clear and close.
    There
was a crash of fire against the pillar on Ole Doc’s right and he reeled.
Sprays, like orange plumes, radiated down into the crowd and slammed men and
women to earth. The material of the platform began to burn and at its base
small green puffs bloomed where the dust was burning.
    With
considerable pride, glowing with the pleasure of good marksmanship, Blanchard
looked long at the motionless figure of the doctor about whom fire shoots began
to sprout, first from the planking and then from his clothes.
    Dart’s
hysterical tugging brought Blanchard away from the sight. The slave was
gesturing at the river which lay on their right.
    Bright
starlight showed on two bodies which bobbed there, traveling evenly in the
quiet current. A moment later a third crossed the light path of an enormous
star. The grisly trio hovered together in an eddy as though holding a ghostly
conference and then, having decided nothing, drifted casually apart and
traveled on.
    â€œTo
hell with it!” said Blanchard. “A drunken