OVERLORD OF EARTH
by Lloyd Arthur Eshbach
 
When man finally achieves world peace, what will he do about Andrev?--Startling 
feature-length future-science novelet!
Will men in their growing wisdom finally realize the stupidity of International 
slaughter and forget the so-called art of war? But when and if they do, might 
even then an Andrev appear--a master killer who might have discovered the secret 
of physical immortality and have lain in a hidden crypt for centuries, a product 
of an earlier, more violent day who waited patiently for the time when he would 
find matured mankind an easy prey for his bloodthirsty villainy?


CHAPTER I
KERRY KORD crouched in utter blackness, sensing rather than seeing the other 
eighteen men in the belly of the glider. Only Glenn Bodey, squatting at his 
back, strapped with him in the two-man parachute, could he definitely identify. 
Minutes before, the motor of the giant tow-plane had been killed, and Kerry knew 
that the fleet of twenty-five gliders must be in the vicinity of the "Overlord's 
Throne."
Inhaling deeply, Kerry touched the emergency 'chute release with his left hand 
and his Ghormley automatic with his right. A matter of minutes now. Despite 
rigid self-control, he could feel his heartbeat quicken, and a constriction high 
in his chest made breathing difficult. He rose to his full six-foot height; felt 
Bodey's broad form rising with him.
"Cold up here," the latter growled heavily. "I could do with a little heat."
"It'll be warmer shortly," Kerry commented. "much warmer--very shortly."
That was how it had been since their take-off from their hidden base in the 
ruins of New York City--small talk--trivial complaints--leading up to indirect 
admission of the tension that gripped all of them.
Soon the waiting would be ended. Soon they would actually attack the stronghold 
of the world dictator-- the self-styled "Overlord." Soon they would know whether 
they would live or die--whether humanity would remain enslaved or would be free.
In his mind's eye Kerry again saw the final assembly of The Remnant. Saw 
grim-faced, gray-clad hordes stalking through dank tunnels, littered with the 
silt and rubbish of decades, to meet in what had once been the terminus of a 
vast net of subway tubes, the heart of the transportation system of Earth's 
greatest metropolis. The Remnant of earth's freemen--the comparative few of all 
mankind who refused to yield to Andrev, the Overlord--had chosen instead to live 
almost as beasts among the ruins of once mighty cities.
He saw again the close-packed, waiting thousands facing the high platform upon 
which had stood the Chief, Janothan Hardinger, stiffly erect in the trim, gray 
synthane of The Remnant, sharply visible in the beams of a battery of 
floodlights. Behind him had sat the Ten, the scientists, councilors and 
strategists of The Remnant. And all about the platform, in motionless rank upon 
rank, arranged with military precision, had stood five hundred men in lustreless 
black--Kerry Kord among them.
He heard again the final ringing words of the Chief. "We need not die--and we 
shall not die! Men will again be free! Our plans have been made; our 
preparations are complete.
"You have been summoned to learn your part in our plan for freedom. What that 
plan is we may not say--but upon each of you and the successful completion of 
your individual assignment depends the liberty of humanity. Each of you will be 
armed. Each of you will be fitted with a uniform of the Overlord's Guard. Each 
of you will be assigned to a city and a man or woman in that city. And that 
individual must die!"
Hardinger's hand had indicated the ranks of the men in black. "Upon these men 
falls the greater task of the destruction of the Overlord himself. They are the 
pick of all The Remnant--and they shall not fail!
"A week from today is the anniversary of man's enslavement, the Overlord's 
'Liberation Day'. There will be carousing and riotous celebration, as there 
always has been, and when it is at its height, when midnight mantles the 
Himalayan peak they call the Overlord's Throne, we strike--for freedom!"
AT LAST that hour was at hand! His hour, he hoped, when he would destroy the 
life of the one being he truly hated. The slayer of his father, once one of the 
Ten, and the greatest scientist of his day.
Kerry's thoughts veered to Andrev, the Overlord, and his angular features 
tightened savagely. Murderer, sadist, spoiler of a civilization. Product of an 
earlier, more violent day who, so the tale was told, had discovered the secret 
of physical immortality, and had lain in a crypt for three hundred years, to 
awaken and enslave a world. Men in their growing wisdom had finally realized the 
stupidity of international slaughter and had forgotten the so-called art of war. 
Andrev, steeped in the foul knowledge of a century--the twentieth--redolent with 
wars, had found the new age easy prey. And, whether or not he was immortal, he 
had ruled Earth for a hundred years, yet physically had not changed at all.
Above everything, Andrev must not escape! He would be sought out--and would be 
found where masses of his satellites were assembled. For the Overlord was never 
alone....was afraid to be alone! Afraid, with a maddening, unbalancing fear born 
of his centuries in the tomb. Centuries, it was whispered, when his body had 
been as though dead, while his mind was alert, awake, and utterly--alone.
Minutes now--perhaps seconds--and the men from the past would be attacked by an 
army recruited from the pages of history. "Paratroopers" had figured in wars in 
Andrev's age--and "paratroopers would destroy the head and heart of the 
Overlord's system! Invisible, black-clad paratroopers raining from a midnight 
sky ....
Momentarily a red light winked over the heads of the waiting men. The signal. A 
rustle of synthane swished through the silence. Then a great door slid aside in 
the wall of the glider and a blast of frigid air whipped through the opening.
"Jump position!" Kerry barked. "Two and two. Remember your instructions." He was 
talking to fill in the gap before the actual leap into the dark. "We'll try to 
land on the flying field in front of the Star Tower. If we miss it, we get there 
as fast as we can. We join the wedge that blasts its way into the Tower--then, 
unless Andrev is blasted in the first assault--and if intelligence knows 
anything, he won't be, for he'll run at the first sign of trouble--we hit for 
the top of the Tower, blasting everyone before us."
Kerry's words came faster. Time was running out. "If I get mine, Bodey takes 
over. If he goes, Gill is in command. If Gill goes--you know the order. 
Only--get--through!"
Again that flash of red! And the first pair of men leaped into the night--a 
night now aglow with the light that rose from the Overlord's citadel. On the 
heels of the first, the second pair--the third--split seconds between jumps, the 
cords attached to the rod overhead automatically opening the 'chutes. ... Kerry 
and Bodey took their place in the line, the last to jump save the pilot who 
would abandon the glider and follow ....
With a rush of thin, icy air, Kerry and his partner plummeted toward the 
Himalayan plateau far below. Automatically Kerry counted, his finger gripping 
the emergency pull--one-and-a-two--he felt the wrench and jar under his 
arm-pits, the thud against the back of his padded cap as the folds of black 
synthane ballooned above them. Heard Bodey's sardonic, "Nice view--but too 
blamed cold for comfort." He grinned a tight, strained grin and looked downward.
Brilliantly lighted, the Overlord's Throne lay like a jeweled mosaic among 
snow-capped peaks. As the plateau leaped skyward, details appeared. Parklike 
expanses of precisely trimmed green formed the setting for glittering buildings 
of metal and plastic, neon-tubed and garish, where the tyrant government of 
Earth held sway. One great structure of glistening steel in the center of the 
plateau stood out by virtue of its shape, a perfect six-pointed star, the symbol 
of the Overlord. Crimson lights flooded the top of the famous Star Tower which 
held the Council Hall of Andrev and his lieutenants.
CURIOUSLY Kerry peered into the sky around him. As far as the eye could see, he 
and Bodey were alone in the blackness. So perfectly were the others concealed by 
their lustreless black that they defied detection. He heard Bodey's voice thinly 
in his ears:
"Nice night for a murder!"
Kerry made no comment. Skillfully he maneuvered the 'chute toward the giant 
structure. A great flying field surrounded the tower, a field where Andrev's 
followers landed when they came to report to the Overlord. That was the 
destination of two hundred of them--the very heart of things, where they hoped 
to find the tyrant. Another hundred would seek the communication center--fifty 
more, supply headquarters, and so on, completely covering the plateau. The wind 
caught the 'chute and swept it toward the Star Tower ...closer...now to swerve 
...
To Kerry's taut senses came a shrill, thin whine, mounting in a swift crescendo. 
He'd been waiting for that--a powerful robot plane diving out of the blackness 
with a four-ton cargo of destruction--plummeting toward the quarters of the 
Overlord's Guard. Seconds after the first faint sound, it struck with a mighty 
roaring blast that rolled thunderously over the mountains, and an angry, lurid 
mass of smoke and flame plumed skyward. A direct hit, Kerry exulted, as 
fragments of stone and metal and plastic rained earthward. That would 
help--plenty!
With startling suddenness a hail of bursting shells flared toward them from 
batteries of concealed anti-aircraft guns--and simultaneously the lights of the 
Overlord's Throne winked into blackness! Kerry's eyes bored through the dark, 
broken only by shell blasts and the red glow of the burning building. They had 
expected this, of course--automatic detectors had picked them up and automatic 
defenses had been tripped into motion. One of the secrets Andrev had brought 
from the past. It didn't change things at all--if bursting shell fragments 
didn't blast them out of the sky. Their plan provided for this. Once they'd 
landed....
With a jar that shook them from head to feet, Kerry and Glenn Bodey crashed 
against a hard, smooth surface. Arms linking mechanically, they rolled over, 
tumbling away from the folds of the synthane 'chute. Training made their 
movements swift and sure--and in moments they sprang free of the mass of cloth. 
Grimly silent, they dropped prone upon the plastic runway, rocket blasters 
gripped in their hands. Simple weapons, these, designed for a specific job--that 
of getting into the tower.
With his left hand Kerry drew a small, tubular flare from a belt compartment, 
thrust a finger through a ring at one end and began counting slowly. A minute 
must pass....
As the seconds dragged by, Kerry's straining senses caught faint sounds somehow 
penetrating through the incessant crash and rattle of gunfire--soft thuds of 
rubber-soled shoes, the swish of yards of synthane; then as the minute neared 
its end the faint sounds ceased. All the troopers should have landed 
now...Seconds ....
With one swift movement Kerry flung the flare far from him, retaining the ring 
release, and watched through slitted eyelids. Searingly a brilliant white glare 
burst the blackness asunder to be followed instantly by deeper blackness; and 
upon the retina of every man's eyes was stamped a photographic picture of their 
surroundings. Kerry saw black mounds dotting the plastic everywhere--saw the 
glistening smoothness of the blued steel that blocked the entrance into the 
Citadel.
With the speed of thought Kerry pointed his rocket blaster and squeezed its 
release, sending the single powerful charge of the weapon hissing meteorlike 
toward the barrier. It struck with a crackling report, that merged into a single 
earsplitting blast as the weapon in the hand of every paratrooper spoke. Most of 
the shells struck the target--and where they struck, streamers and tongues and 
droplets of white hot fire bit savagely into the steel. Nothing made of metal 
could long withstand that concentrated inferno of heat.
As one the black-clad horde leaped erect and charged toward the door, running in 
a weaving crouch. Useless rocket blasters clattered to the runway to be replaced 
by lethal Ghormley automatics with their hundred rounds of explosive pellets. As 
they ran, they formed into an irregular wedge with Kerry Kord at its apex.
Through the widening slits and gaping holes in the door Kerry saw the interior 
of the Council Hall, and at its far end the incredible splendor of Andrev's 
throne. The space within the great room was a bedlam of scurrying men and women, 
varicolored lights gleaming on the bare flesh and scanty attire of the decadent 
rulers.
As he ran, Kerry drew a grenade from his belt and held it in readiness, his 
fingers on the firing pin. Great gaping holes now appeared in the door, molten 
steel dripping from their brightly burning edges; as he drew close, Kerry paused 
momentarily and hurled the bomb through the opening. A breathless instant--a 
bursting, rending roar of flame and yellow-green smoke--and Kerry hurtled 
swiftly through the ragged ring of flame!



CHAPTER II of Overlord of Earth



THE MINUTES that followed were a nightmare of bloody, roaring slaughter. The 
forces of the Overlord, their minds already befuddled with their hours of 
carousing, were completely demoralized, capable of only the most feeble 
resistance. Flight was the universal impulse. As the men of the Remnant poured 
through the burning doorway to spread fanwise across the hall, they swept the 
massed revelers before them like sheep. It was slaughter--and slaughter without 
quarter. They had come as executioners to wipe out Andrev and his followers, 
root and branch--and prisoners had no place in their plan.
As he sped through the huge chamber, firing methodically at every fleeing figure 
within range, Kerry's mind wavered between satisfaction at the success of their 
attack thus far and a vague sense of uneasiness. It was unbelievable that the 
Overlord could be so completely unprepared for attack. The element of surprise 
had given them an unquestioned advantage, and the celebration of 'Liberation 
Day' with its attendant debauchery had helped a lot. Then too, there had been no 
organized resistance for so long a period that the danger of an uprising had 
seemed completely past. But certainly Andrev had additional automatic defense 
installed during the early days of his reign when the danger of revolt must have 
been something to cope with; to think otherwise was to underestimate the 
Overlord's intelligence.
Kerry scanned the chamber with quick, keen glances, while charging ahead with 
unbroken stride. Two things in particular he noted. The Overlord's throne was 
empty; and everyone ran as though by prearranged plan toward a narrow doorway in 
the far wall close to the throne--streaming through it in a steady unbroken 
line.
The Overlord, certainly, had preceded his followers through that doorway!
Casting a glance behind him, Kerry saw that he still led the pack, though Bodey 
was at his heels. With a single piercing shout he sprinted toward the narrow 
opening, ignoring the panicstricken stragglers who scurried away at his 
approach. His cry seemed to have spurred the fleeing mass to new effort, for 
suddenly the narrow doorway became jammed with a fighting, squirming mass of 
humanity. Grimly Kerry hurled a grenade, a second, a third--and as the 
thunderous detonation rolled through the room, the doorway cleared completely.
As he reached the opening, an ominous roar swept through the hall and he glanced 
over his shoulder. His face blanched. A withering rain of machine gun fire was 
sweeping the hall from openings in both side walls! Someone, somewhere, had been 
waiting till the room had cleared of Andrev's men--then had set off batteries of 
weapons. trained in devastating crossfire. His comrades were dropping on every 
hand.
A furious curse burst from him as Bodey reached his side. A trap--and they had 
been caught in it!
"Up to us, Glenn." he rasped, whirling and thrusting his Ghormley into its 
holster. Nothing but grenades now--and Andrev their only objective.
The room they had entered was far smaller than the Council Hall, and in its far 
end were jammed a mass of the rulers, struggling to enter four large elevators 
that lined the wall. Four elevators and all the doors were open! None had yet 
left ground level.
WITH COMMON consent Kerry and Bodey began throwing grenades, their advance 
slowed to a walk. Thunderous reverberations rocked the room, mingled with the 
shrieks and screams of the injured. Choking, acrid smoke billowed across the 
chamber--and like black robots the two men of the Remnant stalked through the 
shambles. Kerry, grim-faced, narrow-eyed, kept his gaze fixed on the open 
elevator doors. In one of them, he was certain, was Andrev. If only he could 
plant a grenade within those little cubicles! He aimed carefully, but the cast 
fell short and as the smoke of the explosion eddied away, he saw the door slide 
shut. One was gone! That last grenade had done the trick.
Kerry's fingers groped for another grenade--found it--and he realized suddenly 
that it was his last one. Better keep it for an emergency. He gripped the butt 
of his Ghormley, turned to Bodey.
"Glenn," he snapped, "we've got to get to those elevators quick. Andrev's in one 
of them--and we must get him! You take the right--"
He broke off abruptly as a familiar stentorian voice rose above the bedlam. The 
Overlord!
"Attention! Cowards! Only two men are attacking you! The rest have been wiped 
out. Turn and destroy them!"
The words took instant effect upon the milling mass. Heads turned and an ominous 
roar surged from scores of throats. And suddenly a beam of intense brilliance 
flashed toward the two men from the heart of one of the elevators. From a 
weapon, Kerry thought, in the hands of Andrev himself.
"A grenade, Glenn," he snapped through tight lips. If the mob turned on them 
their chances were slim. Panic had been their strongest ally.
"All gone," Bodey grunted laconically.
Kerry grasped his last bomb. "Then follow me and get to that second elevator. 
Fast!" He hurled the grenade into the thick of the mob; and as it roared its 
message of death he dashed with every ounce of strength toward the cubicle that 
must hold the Overlord. One hand clutched the Ghormley; with the other he drew a 
foot-long, razor-sharp knife.
Savagely he fought his way through the close-packed mass of humanity, slashing, 
tricking, his automatic blasting. Hands that clutched him were swept aside as, 
weaving, darting, leaping, he pressed furiously toward the Overlord. He heard a 
chorus of agony and fear rise ahead of him--caught a glimpse of that searing 
beam of the Overlord cutting scythelike through the bodies of his own men! 
Clearing the elevator! With a furious oath Kerry leaped high and fired at the 
source of beam and the door closed smoothly upon a lone figure standing erect 
amid sprawling bodies.
Unreasoning rage seized Kerry Kord. Afterward he had only a vague recollection 
of a melee of writhing torsos, clutching hands blows, amid a clamor of screams 
and explosions then somehow he had reached an elevator--had plunged within upon 
a squirming mound of men and women. The door slid shut, and they shot skyward. 
Reason returned when a terrified feminine voice shrieked almost in his ear:
"Here's one of them!"
Kerry thought swiftly. He couldn't hope to overcome a score of people, though 
they were unarmed, in such close quarters if they really resisted. His Ghormley 
was practically useless here since he couldn't fire it without endangering 
himself. There was only one way out--bluff.
"Quiet!" he roared bitingly, his voice cold and incisive. "You have one chance 
to live. I'm after the Overlord, not you." He thrust up a clenched fist in which 
was gripped one of the tubular flares. "You've seen the effects of these 
grenades--and if you resist I'll release this one right now. We'll die, every 
one of us. If you tell me where Andrev went you may go. Your answer--quick!"
A dozen voices clamored: "The top of the tower--he's got a plane there! that's 
where he is!'
SCOWLING threateningly Kerry surveyed the faces turned toward him. What he saw 
on the bruised and perspiring countenances convinced him they were telling the 
truth. One dark-eyed girl said boldly, "I hope you get him. He blasted us with 
that pistol of his to save his own skin."
Inspired by the example of bolder spirits, others in the crowd began cursing 
Andrev. Kerry listened without comment, revulsion faintly curling his lips. They 
could be courageous now.
The elevator came to rest of its own volition and someone slid back the door. 
Eagerly they pushed aside to clear a path for Kerry. With his fist held high 
above him for all to see, Kerry stalked into the open, glimpsing the black sky 
overhead. He saw something else--a gleaming metal dome in the center of the 
six-pointed star that was the top of the Star Tower.
And the hangar was ablaze with light, the muffled roar of rocket jets rising 
from within!
Kerry spun toward the elevator. Already the door was closing upon Andrev's 
satellites, all too eager to escape unharmed. It slid shut and Kerry turned to 
sprint toward the glittering dome.
As he ran, he thought of the plane and the hangar. This was something unforeseen 
in the plans of the Ten, something which Remnant Intelligence had overlooked. 
From the sky this hanger could not be seen, concealed, perhaps, by 
super-camouflage, or more logically, hidden in the floor below, and raised to 
roof level mechanically when needed. Once in the plane, escape might readily be 
accomplished by the Overlord.
Kerry had had ideas of his own concerning Andrev's possible manner of escape if 
attacked .... About ten years before, Kerry's father had been a scientist of 
world prominence. Working in the laboratories of the State, his sympathies had 
nonetheless been with the Remnant, of which he had been an important though 
secret member. Then one day he had been summoned by the Overlord--and that was 
the last he had ever been seen by the Remnant. Rumor had said that he had 
successfully completed a series of experiments upon something in which Andrev 
had been interested and had died so his knowledge might be the Overlord's alone. 
Kerry's jaws clenched at the thought. He had a personal score to settle .... But 
of greater importance was the fact that he knew the subject of his father's 
experimentation. It was mastery of the Fourth Dimension--travel through time!
Conceding that it could be done, what could be more logical than the thought 
that this man who had come out of the past would flee into a future age if 
flight became necessary, where he might again gain a world empire?
As the polished walls of the hangar loomed above him, Kerry looked for a 
doorway, and found one just as a wide section of the wall moved aside to permit 
the exit of a plane. Darting into the hangar, he hesitated briefly while his 
eyes raced over the strangely designed rocket ship that half-filled the open 
space before him.
In that momentary glimpse he saw it was a rocket plane as large as many 
commercial stratosphere transports, equipped with nose and tail vents, 
transparent plastic control cabin and possessing wings of extraordinary length. 
The strangest feature of the machine, however, was the series of enormous hoops 
of inch-thick, crystalline tubing which circled its tapering fuselage and that 
formed a border around the rim of the long, streamlined wings. Definitely, it 
was unlike any plane Kerry had ever seen--and suddenly he believed he knew why. 
The time traveling equipment had been installed in the plane!
He wasted no more time in examination, for the rear rockets were roaring a 
warning that in moments Andrev would be on his way. A glance at the transparent 
nose of the plane revealed that the Overlord was not at the controls; but he 
must be somewhere in the ship. With his Ghormley held in readiness, Kerry sprang 
to the nearest door and turned the catch. It moved easily under his hand and the 
door opened inward.
With every nerve wire-taut, Kerry eased himself through an opening he made 
barley wide enough to admit his powerful form--and with the suddenness of a 
lightning bolt, a blinding, coruscating flare of light knifed his brain and 
utter blackness engulfed him.



CHAPTER III of Overlord of Earth



WHEN consciousness returned to Kerry Kord he first became aware of the steady 
cruising blast of rockets, aggravating the throbbing in his head. His second 
impression was one of some burdensome pressure weighing him down, pressing him 
painfully against a hard, smooth surface. This sensation ended, and he heard the 
dry, sardonic chuckle of the Overlord.
"You may as well open your eyes," a deep voice said coldly. "I know you are 
conscious and you can't possibly overpower me with a surprise attack."
Still slightly dazed, Kerry opened by eyes and forced himself into a sitting 
position. He was on the floor of the control room of Andrev's plane. The massive 
form of the World Dictator stood at the controls, directing the flight of the 
craft, his eyes for the moment fixed in cold appraisal upon Kerry. Surprisingly, 
Kerry discovered, his arms and legs were free.
Divining his thoughts the Overlord said dispassionately, "You aren't bound 
because some of your impetuous friends arrived at the hangar in time to hurry my 
take-off a bit--but then, I don't consider you of too great importance. You are 
unarmed, and I am very well armed. And even in direct physical attack, I 
consider myself quite able to defend myself without weapons. You are here and 
alive, frankly, because I like company."
Kerry rose slowly to his feet, feigning weakness. He was himself again; and 
through narrowed lids he surveyed Andrev, weighing his chances of overpowering 
him. It was the first time he had been this close to the Dictator and he had to 
admit that the man was a formidable figure. Well over six feet tall, he was 
tremendously broad-shouldered, yet despite his bulk, he gave the impression of 
litheness. And his face, angular and strong-jawed, crowned by a high, broad 
forehead, was one of tremendous power. The wide mouth and deepset glittering 
eyes, especially, bore an expression of arrogance and self-assurance. Certainly 
an antagonist not to be taken lightly.
Andrev spoke again in a casual voice, his keen eyes sweeping the instrument 
panel. "Now that your inspection has convinced you that precipitate action would 
be unwise, let us dispense with sham and relax. You'll find a seat behind you. 
You may as well enjoy a journey which I believe you will find unique."
Quite a showman, Kerry thought as he dropped into a deeply upholstered chair. He 
raised an eyebrow in studied boredom as he spoke for the first time.
"Thanks!" Then after a brief pause, "I don't suppose there's much sense in my 
asking where we're going."
Andrev frowned as though giving the matter thought. "I see no reason for 
withholding information which you cannot possibly use--though 'when' might be 
more accurate than 'where'." He glanced at the altimeter. "At the moment we are 
approximately twelve thousand feet above the Himalayas. We are moving in a wide 
circle above the general vicinity of my headquarters. Since we have, I believe, 
risen to sufficient height, in a few moments we will be a thousand years in the 
future, completely beyond the reach of your--Remnant. For our journey lies 
through the Fourth Dimension, Time!"
Andrev fixed his eyes on Kerry's and they began to blaze wrathfully. The casual, 
studied superciliousness fell from him, and all the venomous hatred and fury 
within the man's being seemed to find expression on his face.
"When I return, I'll bring with me the knowledge and might--the weapons--of 
another civilization--and I'll use that knowledge to destroy utterly the 
upstarts who dared to resist their master! They'll not die easily--they'll die 
slowly, cursing the Remnant!"
IN SPITE OF himself, Kerry Kord felt a momentary thrill of dread. A madman 
Andrev certainly was--but a madman who had enslaved a world.
Andrev's words continued as the fingers of one hand darted over the control 
panel and the other hand drew a rocket pistol from his belt. "Do not move until 
I give you permission. In seconds we'll be traveling through the time warp. I 
have never made this trip--but another has, and the machine does work--and if 
anything seems amiss you'll die instantly." Dropping into the pilot's seat, he 
fixed his gaze on the tele-viewer which now revealed only empty blackness below 
the plane, and he depressed a button at the top of the panel.
A faint, soundless vibration seized the ship and its occupants, mounting swiftly 
to a mighty quivering that threatened momentarily to shake every molecule of 
matter within the range of the time machine into its component atoms. Kerry's 
thoughts were a garbled, jumbled, inchoate mass, as though the vibration had set 
thought impulses quivering into being without rational guidance. Memories of 
childhood mingled with flashing images of purely imaginary things. Emotions 
shook him in kaleidoscopic disorder. Sights and sounds of maddening intensity 
mingled with an incredible hegira of all his senses, as though every nerve in 
his mind and body were a string in some strange instrument; and a mad musician 
were playing the combined discords of all eternity. And all of this concentrated 
in a single timeless instant.
Suddenly it ended!
Like a spring unwinding, Kerry Kord's muscles relaxed. Had the time machine 
worked? He was sure it had, for he had confidence in his father's work, and he 
believed that in all probability he knew as much or more about the device than 
the Overlord.
He looked at Andrev, a question on his lips and his eyes widened with sudden 
interest and a flare of hope surged through him. Andrev seemed frozen into 
rigidity, staring incredulously into the viewing plate, his expression one of 
utter consternation. His pistol dangled limply from flaccid fingers. Without a 
glance at Kerry he arose and strode into the transparent nose of the ship. As he 
stared at whatever lay beyond, his massive frame seemed to sag limply, and Jerry 
heard him utter dazedly:
"What--what happened? Where's--the Earth?"
Craning his neck, Kerry stared at the tele-viewer, and his forehead furrowed in 
a thoughtful frown. Certainly there was reason for Andrev's surprise. The 
blackness of space filled the oval screen, star-flecked space sweeping past in a 
constantly changing panorama as the rocket plane described its circular orbit. 
Now red light flared suddenly in the screen--light, Kerry saw through narrowed, 
tear-filled eyelids, streaming from a crimson, cooling binary sun! Twin suns 
like burnished copper discs large as dinner plates, circling about each other!
The double sun vanished, moving out of the viewer's field of vision, and almost 
instantly the surface of a planet sprang into view. They were dangerously close, 
for details were plainly visible. A strange world of vast level plains covered 
with pallid gray-green vegetation, of low, rolling hills worn smooth by the 
weathering of milleniums[sic]. An ancient world of shallow, tideless seas, a 
world as Earth might be in a million years.
But this wasn't Earth--Kerry knew it beyond a shallow of a doubt. It was a 
smaller world--and never would old Earth revolve around a binary star. Kerry's 
thoughts raced. There must be an explanation.... there was something his father 
had said concerning time travel .... Kerry's wonderment suddenly dissipated and 
he grinned to himself. There were some things about travel through the time 
dimension that Andrev didn't know....
Andrev! With feline smoothness Kerry slid to his feet, his rubber-soled boots 
making no sound on the metal floor. He sent lightning glances darting about for 
a weapon, but he saw nothing that would serve. His fists curled into hard knots 
and his muscles quivered with anticipation. This was his chance--and he dared 
not fail!
He had crossed most of the intervening distance when something seemed to warn 
Andrev, for Kerry saw him stiffen. He covered the last few yards in a whirlwind 
rush, his right fist drawn far back--and as Andrev spun around, that fist drove 
home with every ounce of power of Kerry's command.



CHAPTER IV of Overlord of Earth



ANDREV reeled backward to to[sic] crash heavily into the nose of the rocket 
ship. His pistol spun from his hand, skittered against the smooth wall and 
landed a dozen feet away.
Swiftly the big man leaped erect, shaking himself like some great animal. His 
face was that of a beast of prey, the veins standing out on his forehead like 
ugly, bloated worms. A gutteral[sic] oath oozed from between his clenched jaws 
as he sprang.
Kerry met his charge with savage blows of both fists against the jutting jaw; 
then the force of the charge carried them into a clinch. Kerry winced as a white 
hot knife of pain stabbed him--Andrev's knee finding the pit of his stomach. 
Viciously he drove his fingers into the Overlord's eyes, and the big man writhed 
free, sucking his breath between his teeth. He leaped back out of the range of 
Kerry's fists, his low, rasping snarl a sound horrible to hear--then swiftly he 
charged, his neck swollen and his eyes engorged with blood.
Kerry ducked under a heavy blow, landed a powerful overhand swing, then 
staggered back as Andrev's fist landed solidly against his chin. The Overlord 
followed, an insane chuckle rumbling deep in his throat, his great fists 
swinging. Some of the blows Kerry caught on fists and forearms; others reached 
their mark; and Kerry began to realize that every advantage lay with Andrev. 
Despite the years which he must have lived, he was physically in his prime and a 
tremendously powerful man.
Desperately Kerry leaped for Andrev's throat. His hands found their hold--and 
simultaneously two rigid thumbs drove into his own windpipe. They crashed to the 
floor, locked in deadly embrace. An icy pang of fear swept up Kerry's spine. The 
neck in his grasp seemed to swell and solidify like a pillar of stone--and his 
own throat was yielding to that merciless pressure. Frantically his fingers 
clawed at the Overlord's contorted visage. The man was killing him! He felt his 
lungs swelling unbearably, and black spots danced and grew before his eyes. Fear 
made his thoughts desperately clear. He remembered something he had seen during 
a fight in the dark tunnels under New York. If only he could get some air....
His fingers hooked in the corners of Andrev's mouth and he pulled. With a grunt 
of pain the Overlord tore his face free form the rending fingers, releasing 
Kerry's throat. With the first great draft of air, Kerry wrenched his head 
upright and clasped his hands behind the other's skull. A split second of 
bunching muscles, and with all his strength he drove the top of his head into 
Andrev's face!
The ghastly crunch of splintering bone grated on the air, and the Overlord 
screamed with pain. He tore fiercely at Kerry's hands, but the fingers were 
locked. Again the smaller man battered with brutal, stunning force; a shudder of 
agony wracked Andrev's frame and he sagged limply, a faint brutish whine sobbing 
in his throat and his breath blubbering through smashed lips and flattened 
bleeding nose.
WITH HEAVING lungs Kerry Kord rolled free and reeled to his feet. He looked down 
at the beaten dictator, savage satisfaction in his narrowed eyes. Something of 
the personal debt he owed had been paid.
"Andrev!" he barked.
The big man started fearfully and his trembling fingers strove to wipe the blood 
from his eyes. "Yes," he whispered hoarsely, desperate fear in his voice.
"You were startled by what you saw outside the plane. Why?"
Andrev sucked in a tortured breath. "We--we are out in space--and the Sun and 
the Earth--have disappeared! Even the constellations--have changed! Something 
went wrong!"
Kerry grinned mirthlessly. "Nothing went wrong. What has happened was to be 
expected. Nothing else could happen! We have travelled in moments a thousand 
years of time through the Fourth Dimension. We travelled independently of three 
dimensional space--and the Earth, the Solar System, was moving away from us into 
infinity at an inconceivable speed for a thousand years! We moved into our 
future a thousand years through Time in less than a minute--but no machine 
imaginable by our intelligence could travel in those moments through the 
infinite distances in space which our Solar System and Galaxy have traversed in 
ten centuries."***
Andrev's terrified whine was a sickening thing. Courage and morale were 
completely broken. "Then--then we're lost out here in space--without 
supplies--alone!" The last word was little more than a gasp; and the big man 
buried his ruined face in his hands and wept.
With a shudder of revulsion Kerry picked up the rocket-pistol and thrust it into 
the holster which had held his Ghormley. He found his knife and automatic in a 
niche beside the control panel and thrust them into his belt. Then he centered 
his attention upon the dials and gauges that controlled the flight of the ship 
through space and time. The plane had a standard rocket drive, he noted with 
satisfaction; that would cause him no difficulty.
Carefully he noted their position as Andrev had set it when starting their orbit 
around the Himalayan peaks. Carefully he calculated the time that had elapsed 
since they had started their journey. Then with skillful touch he sent the ship 
into a steep dive toward the ancient world below them.
Smoothly he brought the plane to rest in a bleak little valley beside a tiny 
watercourse. Dwarf trees, shorter than a man and crowned with dull gray-green 
foliage, lined its banks. There was no sign of animal life save a small froglike 
creature basking in the light of the crimson double sun. According to all 
appearances it was a world which, except for its size, might very well support 
human life. If the air were fit....
Kerry shrugged. Andrev could test the air. If it were harmless and 
life-supporting, well and good--if not, that was all right too. He turned to the 
former dictator.
"Andrev, get up!"
The big man dragged himself to his feet, panting noisily, stood there swaying, 
his head bent far forward.
"Andrev," Kerry continued dispassionately, "I had planned to kill you, but I've 
changed my mind. You may live. This nameless little world is your future home. 
You wanted to rule a world-- rule this one. It's yours--forever! Yours--alone!"
Andrev shuddered. "Alone!" he whispered. "Alone!"
With rocket pistol in one hand, Kerry held his breath, opened the door and 
gestured toward the outside. Like an automaton the erstwhile Overlord stumbled 
from the rocket ship and Kerry wrenched the door shut behind him. He sprang into 
the transparent nose of the plane to watch.
Panting in the thin air, the spiritless Andrev staggered across the gray-green 
slope to the stream, sat down. He looked around him hesitantly, his hand upon 
his battered face, terror dawning in his reddened eyes....
High above the little world, seated at the controls of the rocket ship, Kerry 
Kord adjusted the viewing plate to catch a final glimpse of a dark spot on the 
gray-green expanse--Andrev. He manipulated the telescopic instrument till he 
could see him clearly. He hadn't moved, save that the fingers of one hand were 
plucking idly at bruised and bleeding lips, lips that sagged vacuously....
Kerry shut off the view--and in his heart was no pity for a man who deserved no 
pity. Grim-faced and unrelenting he adjusted the rocket ship's controls to the 
position he had so carefully recorded.
Lost? He wasn't lost, as Andrev had supposed. He had but to return through the 
Fourth Dimension to his own time, and again the Earth would be in that 
particular part of space--a world now freed forever from Andrev the Overlord.
*According to Harlow Shapley, our entire watch-shaped Galaxy rotates around a 
central axis, not as a solid, but with different speeds at different distances 
from the center. Measures of radial and transverse motions indicate that at our 
distance from the center of the Galaxy (some 30,000 light years) our speed in 
the orbit of revolution is something like two hundred miles a second. 
Accordingly, the Solar System would have been moving away from the time machine 
at the rate of two hundred miles a second for a thousand years...In addition, 
the Galaxy itself is supposedly rushing away from some central point in the 
universe, separating the rocket plane from the Solar System by a corresponding 
distance.