Formula For Conquest

By JAMES R. ADAMS

August Q. Twilken had a formula, Freebooter
Tod Mulhane had a nose for adventure and
Mon Pordo had an urge for Interworld
domination. When those three got together,
hell had to explode—and did.

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Fall 1945.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]


"I have a formula," the little man said loudly.

I punched him ungently in the ribs and jerked my head toward the mangycrew whooping it up in the close confines of the ill-smelling Martianmusk-parlor.

"Shh. Not so loud, guy," I whispered from the corner of my mouth."This bunch would slit your throat in a minute, if they knew you hadsomething on you that would bring a credit or two. I don't know whatyour game is, but let's go in the back room where we can talk withoutstartin' someone's ears to burnin'."

I wrapped my arm around the guy's shoulders and steered him towardthe back room, singing and laughing, as though I had an overload ofMeez-musk and was feeling a little bit happy.

I didn't know what had brought the little fellow to me. I'd never seenhim before yet he seemed to know me and had made his way directly tothe bar where I stood and addressed me by name. Anybody that knew thatmuch about Tod Mulhane, soldier of fortune, needed looking into, and Iwas determined to give this mild-mannered, shrimp of a man a thoroughgoing over.

I bolted the door behind us and seated myself at the table always keptthere for various games of chance.

"Mousie" nervously assumed a seat and sat staring at me, his big,milky-blue eyes blinking nearsightedly and a withered, vein-coveredhand tweaking incessantly at a bedraggled gray mustache.

"I'm Professor August Q. Twilken," he essayed. "I have a formula."

"And I'm Tod Mulhane, as you seem to know, and I have a couple of greatbig ears, open and waiting. What can I do for you, Twilken?"

Twilken's face suddenly became grim and the milkiness left his eyes amoment, to disclose dancing, hard lights of determination.

"Nothing for me, Mr. Mulhane," he said slowly. "This is for the world!Yes, for three worlds!"

I nodded patiently, thinking maybe I had a nut on my hands.

"Of course, Twilken. And just what is it we're going to do for theseworlds?"

"We're going to save them from the coming Interplanetary War!" Twilkensaid forcefully. "Here's the way things—er—stack up. We know Jupiter,Saturn and Uranus have their armies poised for a quick thrust atthe Allied Worlds—Mars, Earth and Neptune. But, so far, they havehesitated, knowing both sides are pretty well matched in strength andfearing the assault might be drawn out in a long, destructive conflictthat would gain them nothing. They won't wait forever, however, and,sooner or later, they'll find a weakness in the Allied Worlds' armorand strike with all the force at their command. Mr. Mulhane, the AlliedWorlds must be the ones to break this deadlock. We must be the onesto gain an edge in strength and force them to disarm, or be destroyedby the ruthless machine of the brain behind their mad plot. But, Iforget, you know all of this, Mr. Mulhane."

"Tod's the name," I said absently. "Yes, I know all about Xan VIII'sscheme to defeat the Allied Worlds. So what? There's nothing I can doabout it. Naturally, being a Martian, I am anxious to see the AlliedWorlds win. But I can't see—"

"You're a Martian?" Twilken stared, aghast. "But—but you look like anEarthian!"

"I have many disguises," I smiled. "And many pseudonyms—among thembeing that of Tod Mulhane. A soldier of fortune such as I must resortto nume

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