Captain Future 05 - Captain Future and the Seven Space Stones (Winter 1941) by Edmond Hamilton

Simon with a body,” said Otho.
    “I don’t want a body,” rasped the Brain. “It distracts the thought processes. But I’ll try it this time.”
    Curt gave Grag full instructions.
    “I understand, Master,” boomed the disguised robot, who now looked like a giant man. “I’m to call myself the Strong Man of Space, and say this Thinking Machine is a fake device I picked up, and get into the circus. But I’m not to know you or Otho when you appear.”
    “That’s it,” Curt replied. “You’d better get started now.”
    Obediently Grag picked up the apparently absurd Thinking Machine that hid the Brain, and disappeared into the darkness.
    “Now for the marsh tigers.” Curt turned to Otho. “We’ll run inland in the Comet to the Great South Marsh. We’ll find plenty of ‘em there.”
    “Too cursed plenty to suit me,” growled Otho as he took the controls. “But I suppose a fellow can die only once.”
    “What can Ezra and I do to help, Captain Future?” Joan Randall asked.
    “I want the two of you to stay with the Comet, and trail the circus from a safe distance. You’ll be in close touch then if I need the ship. You know how to operate it, Ezra.”
    “Sure, but it’s a very tricky craft to handle,” drawled the veteran of space. “Touch a throttle, and you’re out of the System.”
    An hour later, Otho brought the Comet down on a muddy hummock in the dark, vast Great South Marsh. Curt had been tinkering with a tiny instrument. He held the dumbbell-shaped mechanism in his hand as he and the android opened the door.
    “Where’s your proton gun, Chief?” Otho asked.
    “I’m not going to use any, Otho,” Curt replied calmly.
    Otho recoiled. “Hunting marsh tigers without a gun! Oh, well, why not? We’re tired of living, anyway.”
    They stepped out into darkness and oozy muck. Instantly, from the black swamp an enormous, green-eyed bulk charged, screaming. It was a marsh tiger, a scaled, black creature with four thick legs that were armed with razor talons. Its hideous snouted head was distorted by a gaping mouth bristling with great fangs.
    A glimpse of that hideous maw as it bore down on them sent Curt and Otho leaping into the muck to avoid its rush. It thundered past, then turned with appalling speed to rush them again.
    “I knew it!” Otho yelled, drawing his proton pistol. “We’re sunk!”
    “Don’t fire, Otho!” Curt ordered.
    He was aiming his small, dumbbell-shaped instrument at the marsh tiger. The instrument buzzed thinly as he pressed its button. The marsh tiger stopped. It made no threatening move when Curt boldly advanced and patted its scaly head.
    “Devils of space!” gasped Otho. “How in the Sun’s name —”
    “Simple.” Curt grinned. “This instrument is a ‘will-dampener,’ which Simon and I worked out a good while ago. It radiates a force that neutralizes almost completely the neuronic currents in this beast’s brain-cells, makes him stupid and docile as a lamb. We’ll collect a half-dozen of them in the same way.”
    “All right,” said Otho uncertainly. “But all hell’s going to break loose if your ‘lambs’ suddenly recover.”
     

     
Chapter 7: Interplanetary Circus
     
    GRAG the robot, disguised as an Earthman of colossal stature, strode heavily through the dark streets of Venusopolis. In his enormous hand he carried the cylindrical Thinking Machine that hid the Brain. “The Interplanetary Circus is out by the spaceport, so I think this street will take us there,” boomed the robot.
    “Not so loud, Grag!” cautioned the metallic voice of the Brain. “Are you sure you know your part?”
    “Sure, I’ll be the Strong Man just like Master taught me,” Grag answered. “Only I hate to leave Eek in the Comet.”
    “Ezra and Joan will take care of him,” Simon assured him.
    Grag looked exactly like a hulking, giant Earthman as he tramped along. He had donned a loose zipper-suit over his great frame. But the pink rubberoid artificial