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diff --git a/63189-0.txt b/63189-0.txt index 8b93219..21603dd 100644 --- a/63189-0.txt +++ b/63189-0.txt @@ -5,7 +5,7 @@ By DIRK WYLIE Ironic destiny had brought outlaw Steve Nolan - across the star lanes to icy Pinto and tangled + across the star lanes to icy Pluto and tangled his life again with the man he had sworn to kill. Once more he was trapped in a maze of Galactic intrigue that reached far back into diff --git a/63189-h/63189-h.htm b/63189-h/63189-h.htm index d00869b..866c95b 100644 --- a/63189-h/63189-h.htm +++ b/63189-h/63189-h.htm @@ -1,15 +1,10 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Highwayman of the Void, by Dirk Wylie. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> + <meta charset="utf-8"><title>Highwayman of the Void | Project Gutenberg</title> + <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" > - <style type="text/css"> + <style> body { margin-left: 10%; @@ -83,21 +78,21 @@ div.titlepage p { <h2>By DIRK WYLIE</h2> -<p>Ironic destiny had brought outlaw Steve Nolan<br /> -across the star lanes to icy Pinto and tangled<br /> -his life again with the man he had sworn to<br /> -kill. Once more he was trapped in a maze of<br /> -Galactic intrigue that reached far back into<br /> +<p>Ironic destiny had brought outlaw Steve Nolan<br > +across the star lanes to icy Pluto and tangled<br > +his life again with the man he had sworn to<br > +kill. Once more he was trapped in a maze of<br > +Galactic intrigue that reached far back into<br > his past—and forward to his death.</p> -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Planet Stories Fall 1944.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> +<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br > +Planet Stories Fall 1944.<br > +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br > the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> </div> -<hr class="chap" /> +<hr class="chap" > <p>Steve Nolan was three years dead, pyro-burned in the black space off Luna when a prison break failed. But Nolan had a job to do. Nolan came @@ -154,7 +149,7 @@ touch for five hundred credits.</p> <p>That had been rocket fare to Pluto for Nolan.</p> -<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="tb" > <p>He felt the drumming with the soles of his feet, a hard, grinding sensation against his metal boots. He jumped off the trail quickly and @@ -218,7 +213,7 @@ hand. He stepped in.</p> thing you might remember in the future, though—there are no ignition wires in an air lock."</p> -<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="tb" > <p>She was pretty, she was small, she was blue-eyed and brunette. But she didn't say a word to him. She kept to her seat at the controls, @@ -383,7 +378,7 @@ page up for the checking attendant to see.</p> shrugged imperceptibly. "Any slidewalk going north," he said. "Get off at the Hub and you'll be within a couple blocks of it."</p> -<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="tb" > <p>Nolan nodded and headed for a moving sidewalk. The notebook went back into the pocket of his open-necked black shirt, and the hand that @@ -515,7 +510,7 @@ succinctly.</p> <p>Nolan said soberly, "Live ones do. After tonight Woller may not be able to bite anybody. Dead lice have no friends."</p> -<hr class="chap" /> +<hr class="chap" > <p class="ph1">II</p> @@ -579,7 +574,7 @@ inside his shirt, came away with the slim pyro protruding from his fist.</p> <p>"Woller," he said. "Wake up. You've got company."</p> -<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="tb" > <p>There was a rustle from the bed, a gasp, a metallic click. Nolan jumped back, cursing. He flung an arm over his head as the overhead lumes @@ -643,7 +638,7 @@ does he—</i>"</p> He would have a split-second's advantage. If only there were no more than two or three of them—</p> -<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="tb" > <p>And then the sound was drowned out. A sharp, moaning screech came from outside. A harsh metallic wail that climbed for the frigid heavens @@ -701,7 +696,7 @@ hurry, pal," he said mildly.</p> <p>Petersen shook his head. "Forget it," he said. "I turned the alarm in myself."</p> -<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="tb" > <p>Toward what passed for morning in Avalon, the confusion died down. The emergency cars were off the streets, the sirens had long since stopped @@ -792,7 +787,7 @@ won't have to remind me."</p> <p>"Course not," Petersen agreed. "Wouldn't do much good. But I'll sort of mention it to your heirs."</p> -<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="tb" > <p>At the Operations lock of the Avalon spaceport Nolan opened the money belt Petersen had given him for the first time. He peered inside and @@ -883,7 +878,7 @@ papers."</p> <p>"Clearance papers!" the official barked. "Good Lord, man, they've had those for hours. That man isn't coming back!"</p> -<hr class="chap" /> +<hr class="chap" > <p class="ph1">III</p> @@ -950,7 +945,7 @@ long as he could, obviously trying to cudgel his feeble Venusian brain into some plan for getting rid of the unwanted passenger. But Nolan finally got his cabin.</p> -<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="tb" > <p>It was the smallest and worst on the ship, of course, but the ship was a beauty. Nolan smiled in real appreciation when he saw the room. The @@ -1046,7 +1041,7 @@ destroy them with lethal radiations.</p> blubber-drowned little eyes became shrewd. "Oh, about Orbit Saturn, I guess."</p> -<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="tb" > <p>Nolan suppressed a sudden frown. He asked carefully, "Say, how do you do it on these new-type ships anyhow? All the ones I've been on, you @@ -1126,7 +1121,7 @@ treacheries you were working."</p> pallid carcass, propped up by the internal pressure of its own fear. There was murky horror crawling in his eyes.</p> -<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="tb" > <p>Steve Nolan looked at him and his thin lips curled into a snarling grin. But those were only his lips. Strangely, there was no triumph in @@ -1181,7 +1176,7 @@ to roll with it.</p> <p>But the momentum was immense and the heavy weight struck him down to the floor, drove him headlong into unconsciousness....</p> -<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="tb" > <p>Somebody was kicking him. Nolan groaned once, then compressed his lips as he remembered where he was.</p> @@ -1270,7 +1265,7 @@ steel, a great pulse pounding in his temples....</p> <p>Flesh could stand only so much. After a while—he didn't know when—he was mercifully unconscious.</p> -<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="tb" > <p>A volcano erupted under him and awoke. His whole body was a mass of flame now, head throbbing like the jets of a twenty-ton freight skid, @@ -1359,7 +1354,7 @@ opened the lock door. And—</p> <p>Ravenous flame lashed out from the wall.</p> -<hr class="chap" /> +<hr class="chap" > <p class="ph1">IV</p> @@ -1457,7 +1452,7 @@ was racing down on him.</p> get away now. You'll die if you try. Next time you play hide-and-seek with me, Nolan—don't leave your helmet radio on!"</p> -<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="tb" > <p>If Woller had burned with rage before, now he was frozen. He was a blind man there before Nolan, his eyes swathed in thick white bandages. @@ -1537,7 +1532,7 @@ somewhere we should know about."</p> <p>He groped for Vincennes' arm, found it. "Let's go," he said. "We can't keep the chief waiting."</p> -<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="tb" > <p>Nolan was first through the door. He was in a small room where four or five ordinary-looking people were siting around at ease. One was in @@ -1645,7 +1640,7 @@ said sharply:</p> <p>"Attention, Junta! The man who claims to be the Chief is a masquerader. Kill him! This is the Chief speaking now!"</p> -<hr class="chap" /> +<hr class="chap" > <p class="ph1">V</p> @@ -1713,7 +1708,7 @@ to match his speed. "Tell you later," he panted.</p> been so disastrous before. "Don't tell me. Show me—and turn off your radio. They've got tracers."</p> -<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="tb" > <p>There was a snort of sudden comprehension from the phone, then silence. Nolan looked to see the figure spurt into the lead, gesture ahead. They @@ -1785,7 +1780,7 @@ where the hummocks were highest; then he cut the jets.</p> <p>"My God," gasped Nolan. "Pete!"</p> -<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="tb" > <p>Petersen grinned. "You called it, boy," he admitted. "Don't I get around though?"</p> @@ -1869,7 +1864,7 @@ north of Annihilation Range."</p> <p>"How about this cockeyed disguise of yours? Who is this Chief you were supposed to be?"</p> -<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="tb" > <p>Petersen frowned. "Don't know, exactly," he admitted. "There are three men it could be—they're all connected with the Junta, we're @@ -1940,7 +1935,7 @@ die, of course...."</p> <p>Nolan's eyes narrowed suddenly. He looked at Petersen. "Yes?"</p> -<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="tb" > <p>Petersen, for once, seemed almost at a loss for words. He licked his lips before he spoke. "Steve—there are one or two other things. Did @@ -1987,17 +1982,17 @@ Woller's pyro, or the TPL ships'. If he'd stayed behind—if Woller had put him in the sleep-box as Vincennes had suggested, and he had shared obliteration with her....</p> -<hr class="chap" /> +<hr class="chap" > <div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> + <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""> </div> -<hr class="chap" /> +<hr class="chap" > <p>The sleep-box! The casket!</p> -<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="tb" > <p>It took Petersen a full second to recover from his surprise when the frozen face of Nolan suddenly glowed with hope, when he leaped up and @@ -2027,3 +2022,4 @@ within.</p> <div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 63189 ***</div> </body> </html> + |