Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 053 - He Could Stop the World

VIP免费
2024-12-19 0 0 223.6KB 95 页 5.9玖币
侵权投诉
HE COULD STOP THE WORLD
A Doc Savage Adventure By Kenneth Robeson
This page copyright © 2001 Blackmask Online.
http://www.blackmask.com
? Chapter I. RAIN OF DEATH
? Chapter II. ASHES AT UNION SQUARE
? Chapter III. LOST RADIO WAVES
? Chapter IV. MESSAGE FROM THE DEAD
? Chapter V. WHEN THE SNOW BURNED
? Chapter VI. THE CRAZY MOUNTAIN
? Chapter VII. ASHES OF MURDER
? Chapter VIII. WORLD DICTATOR
? Chapter IX. HIGH ABOVE MANHATTAN
? Chapter X. INTO BURNING SNOW
? Chapter XI. DOC’S MAMMOTH FOE
? Chapter XII. RAID ON THE MINT
? Chapter XIII. THE VALLEY OF GIANTS
? Chapter XIV. MOUNTAIN UNCLIMBED
? Chapter XV. DOC PLAYS A LONE HAND
? Chapter XVI. TORTURE OF MONSTROSITY
? Chapter XVII. MIND OF THE MASTER
? Chapter XVIII. MOUNT LASSEN GROWLS
? Chapter XIX. END OF THE MASTER
Chapter I. RAIN OF DEATH
THE shining, metal ball fell from the sky. Its terrific impact obliterated a humble citizen of Texas. The ball
cracked the cement and buried itself many feet in the ground.
José Pandrosa was walking near the Alamo. Probably he was the first to meet death by the shining ball.
Women screamed and fell down. Men swore and lost the red heat from their faces.
As shuddering witnesses saw it, nothing remained of Pandrosa. His body was now scarcely more than a
blot of blood where he had been standing a moment before. It was fortunate for society José Pandrosa
was humble. Important only to his family.
The arrival of the metal ball was the first indication of the disastrous explosion that had taken place in the
stratosphere.
Other pieces of metal started raining down. They fell over an area of many square miles. Other persons
fortunately escaped a direct hit. A few of the metallic objects ripped into residences of San Antonio.
A newspaperman was walking near the Alamo. He witnessed the obliteration of José Pandrosa. The
reporter looked up into the burning blue of the Texas sky.
"Randolph’s sky ship!" he shouted. "Look! There’s more stuff coming down! His Silver Cylinder’s
exploded!"
There was more shocked horror over this announcement than at the terrible death of José Pandrosa.
Citizens instinctively ducked for the doors of taller buildings.
Nearly everyone had been reading of Professor Homer Randolph. Only twenty-four hours before, his
marvelous Silver Cylinder had taken off for a fifth flight into the stratosphere. The scientist had come to
be recognized as America’s foremost explorer of the upper atmosphere.
Professor Randolph had established the unbelievable height record of forty-one and a half miles above
the earth.
Within a few minutes after the striking of the metal ball, the wires and the radio from San Antonio were
hot with the news. By this time it had been ascertained that many parts of the great Silver Cylinder had
struck the earth.
Some of the pieces were partly fused, as if by terrific heat. This might have been from the explosion itself.
Or it might have been caused by the tremendous friction of the miles of descent.
Some fifteen minutes after José Pandrosa died, another ball struck inside the walls of the old Alamo itself.
But this had been attached to a small parachute.
The parachute ball was hollow and could be divided. From it were taken several delicate scientific
instruments.
Shortly thereafter it was announced to the world that Professor Randolph had attained a height of fifty
miles when something had happened.
The shock of the news was made greater by the knowledge that forty-two well-known scientists and
scholars had accompanied Professor Randolph on this catastrophic ascent. It was taken for granted all
the party had been blown to atoms.
THE fate of one man aboard the Silver Cylinder might not have interested the world at large so much.
But news of the explosion brought the greatest shock to five of the world’s most remarkable men.
William Harper Littlejohn had been among the scientists on board Professor Randolph’s stratosphere
ship. While he was not a publicized figure, among the most learned archaeologists and geologists William
Harper Littlejohn was perhaps known as the world’s leading authority.
Yet for all his erudition and the row of letters he might have placed after his name, William Harper
Littlejohn was known to five companions as "Johnny."
The leader of the five men who were the most grieved by news of the explosion in the stratosphere had
been apparently the last man on earth to have contact with Professor Randolph’s Silver Cylinder.
When the stratosphere ship had attained a height of twenty-five miles, a shortwave radio receiver had
crackled out a summons in a big laboratory. This was an amazing room. It contained hundreds of
devices, the results of experiments which others in the world’s best laboratories were only beginning to
attempt.
And more remarkable even than the hundreds of appliances about him was the man who manipulated the
radio dials to the proper wave band. He was perhaps a head taller than the average tall man on the
street.
The skin of his face and hands was of the smoothest bronze. This was the deep coloring of years of
tropical sun and Arctic wind. The hair, also, was bronze, of a little lighter shade, and fitted smoothly like a
mask.
This man had an intensity in his flake-gold eyes. At times, it seemed as if small whirlwinds of thought were
mirrored in them. As he faced the shortwave radio dials and the message came from William Harper
Littlejohn, a rare, trilling sound filled the great laboratory.
This did not seem to come from the man’s lips. It was more like a vibration emanating from his whole
amazing body.
For the man was Clark Savage, Jr., known to his companions and to thousands of others as Doc
Savage.
"Yes, Johnny," he replied to the radio voice.
"This is Johnny, Doc," came from the radio. "We are now twenty-five miles up. Professor Randolph
declares he will double that. I have observed that he—"
There was no shock. No loud crackling or other disturbances. Johnny’s voice simply ceased speaking.
The power of his sending apparatus might have been cut off. Though Doc stayed by the dials for several
hours, no further communication came from the stratosphere.
IN the laboratory with Doc Savage at this time was Major Thomas J. Roberts, otherwise known as
"Long Tom." He was the electrical wizard of the group.
"Something’s happened to Johnny, Long Tom," Doc stated. "Or perhaps there was trouble with the
power of the stratosphere ship. We shall soon have news of it."
"I don’t care much myself for getting my feet that far off the ground," replied Long Tom. "But Johnny
would go anywhere, if he thought he could find some new element."
Long Tom was a little man. His skin was pallid. His thinness suggested he might fall over any minute with
some mortal illness. But, in reality, he was as tough as rawhide, and could handle half a dozen men bigger
than himself.
Doc Savage started checking his record of Professor Randolph’s present flight. The ascent had been
made from a wide plain of the Trinity River. This was between the rival Texas cities of Forth Worth and
Dallas.
Great public acclaim had accompanied the take-off. Professor Randolph’s Silver Cylinder was not the
balloon type of stratosphere ship. Its long, cigar-shaped envelope contained many compartments of
noninflammable gas.
Besides this lifting power, the ship had other secret motive forces which could propel it upward at
tremendous speed. Originally, Doc Savage had advised Professor Randolph concerning the construction
of a new type of explosive air-force chambers.
Doc Savage had been a close friend of Professor Randolph for a number of years. The stratosphere
scientist was youthful, in his early thirties. Somewhat like Doc, he had devoted his lifetime to scientific
studies.
Hours had passed since Johnny’s interrupted message.
Suddenly, Doc’s big radio on the standard broadcast interrupted a musical program to announce:
SPECIAL NEWS BULLETIN FROM SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS. THE STRATOSPHERE SHIP OF
PROFESSOR HOMER RANDOLPH, WITH FORTY-TWO NOTED PERSONS ABOARD, IS
REPORTED DESTROYED BY AN EXPLOSION FIFTY MILES ABOVE THE EARTH. ALL ARE
BELIEVED TO HAVE PERISHED. THE SHIP ASCENDED TWENTY-SIX HOURS AGO FROM
NORTHERN TEXAS NEAR FORT WORTH. MORE DETAILS LATER.
"Johnny!" said Long Tom, in an awed voice. "This is terrible, Doc! Do you suppose there could be any
chance?"
"There is always the chance of first reports being erroneous," stated Doc calmly. "Though I feared
something was amiss when Johnny’s message was not completed."
The hope that the first reports might be incorrect was not realized. Too many fused parts of the Silver
Cylinder were being found over a fifty-mile area to make it possible that those on the ship fifty miles up
had survived.
During this time Doc Savage had no means of knowing that Professor Randolph’s Silver Cylinder had
made one mysterious descent between the time of its take-off in Northern Texas and its destruction
twenty-six hours later. That temporary landing had been after Johnny’s message to Doc had been
interrupted.
AT the time he started his message, Johnny was in the radio room of Professor Randolph’s ship. The
operator made no objection to Johnny’s desire to send a private communication.
Johnny had informed Doc they were twenty-five miles up, and had started to tell something of what he
had observed. At that instant, a tall man appeared in the door of the radio room. His hand flicked a
command.
The operator moved a switch. For several seconds, Johnny continued speaking, unaware he had been
cut off. Then he saw the tall, blue-eyed man standing in the doorway.
Professor Homer Randolph was smiling. Though young, his face held many tiny wrinkles. But these
seemed to be the marks of thought and humor.
"I deeply regret, Professor Littlejohn, but I had meant to announce no messages were to be sent at this
time," he remarked. "Please don’t be offended at being cut off."
"You will observe, Professor Randolph, by the continuing convolutions of my risibilities, that I am not
suffering with the slightest frustration," stated Johnny solemnly, a twinkle in his eyes and a grin across a
face that looked like skin drawn over the skull of a skeleton. "I was conversing with Doc."
Johnny never used simple words when more complicated language would serve.
Randolph continued smiling.
"I know of no one I would rather communicate with myself," he said. "Doc Savage, I believe, is the best
friend I have on earth. I only hope he will understand something of what I am about to undertake."
"There isn’t much of your experimentation that has eluded Doc’s attention," said Johnny. "I would not be
surprised if he could now describe about what we will encounter fifty miles up."
"Neither would I," instantly agreed Randolph. "But I imagine you will be surprised by something else
later. For example, right now, I have given the word to descend."
"Well, I’ll be superamalgamated!" exclaimed Johnny. "And I judge, from your attitude, you are not
contemplating more extensive enlightenment?"
"I am keeping it somewhat of a secret," said Professor Randolph. "Some of my guests know of it and
others do not. However, I am convinced all will be pleased."
WHETHER Randolph’s scholarly guests would or would not be pleased, the professor was descending
the great Silver Cylinder toward the earth.
The stratosphere ship, under perfect control, bumped to a stop in the midst of an uninhabited area.
Randolph ordered his guests to disembark for a short time.
"Unless I am suffering with olfactory illusion, we are in the midst of the wide-open spaces, and I would
judge, in Arizona," said Johnny to one of his companion scientists.
Tang of alkali and mesquite permeated the air. The Silver Cylinder rested easily on a vast plain.
Gaunt-armed cactus reared like stripped ghosts against the night horizon.
Randolph came directly to Johnny.
"I want you, first of all, to know of my new plans," he said pleasantly. "Because very soon I hope to have
Doc Savage know and understand, and perhaps join with me in this venture."
Professor Randolph talked rapidly, for perhaps five minutes. Until he had finished, Johnny made no
comment. Now he spoke.
"Frankly, Professor Randolph, all this is the height of impossible fantasy. I could not coöperate to any
degree. Should such an experiment be carried forward, you make it incumbent upon me to inform Doc.
Perhaps some of your friends have deluded you into thinking such an absurdity may be possible."
Randolph’s blue eyes still smiled pleasantly at Johnny.
"Think it over for a few minutes," he advised, "while we are busy about our preparations."
A few moments later, Johnny managed to separate himself from the others. Randolph and his own group
of aids were clustered near the tail of the Silver Cylinder. Johnny observed that the radio operator was
in the group.
Moving with infinite caution, Johnny slid into the stratosphere ship. In the radio room, he discovered the
power was now on. He could only hope that the crackling of the shortwave band might not reach the
ears of Randolph and his men too soon.
Johnny’s skeleton face wore a scornful grin. Privately, he believed Randolph’s successes must have gone
to his head. Perhaps his overtaxed brain needed rest.
Anyway, this was something Doc Savage should know. Johnny had decided then he would slip away into
the darkness. Even the wilderness of the Arizona desert must have trails he could follow. He believed
several others would join him.
The shortwave tubes glowed with purple light. Johnny became intent on attempting to tune in on Doc’s
special shortwave set.
"I feared as much," came the quiet voice of Randolph behind him.
Chapter II. ASHES AT UNION SQUARE
BEFORE Johnny could turn or reply, he was enveloped in the shrouding folds of a black cloth. No
doubt, the mild Professor Randolph knew something of the geologist’s prowess.
Johnny’s bony, elongated figure doubled and straightened. Both his knuckled fists found instant marks.
Though he could not see, the geologist sensed the presence of half a dozen misguided persons who
possibly had imagined he would be easily overpowered.
Somehow, he got a neck-and-leg hold on the nearest man. His bony arms tightened. The man howled.
Tubes, condensers and other parts of the intricate radio splintered and crashed. The man Johnny had
thrown from him swore in a most unscientific manner. He was picking bits of glass and wire out of his
ears.
"It is to be regretted," came the still cool voice of Randolph, "but we must use other means, Professor
Littlejohn."
The other means used was a blackjack. It hit the bony Johnny on the head. Johnny shuddered and sank
down.
WHEN Johnny recovered, he was free of the shrouding cloth. His head buzzed abominably. His first
thought was it had resulted from the stiff blow on the skull. His brain seemed to be aching from that.
But the buzzing was something else. Johnny noticed he was now in a compartment of the Silver
Cylinder into which he had not before been admitted. Also, he found he was seated in a chair not greatly
different from the execution spot in some States.
Close to Johnny’s head two shining, coppery discs gave off a whirring buzz. They were whirling at
incredible speed. Johnny made out several others of his companions in similar chairs. He noted they were
those who had not been directly in Randolph’s group of aids.
Randolph was standing close by. He was glancing at his watch and observing Johnny. Johnny passed up
his long words this time.
"Perhaps before the electrocution, you will inform the prisoner what it is all about?" said Johnny
sarcastically.
Randolph’s mild, blue eyes smiled at him. He glanced again at his watch.
"The venture I was speaking about, Professor Littlejohn?" he said interrogatively. "Do you not now
believe it would meet with amazing results?"
"Certainly," replied Johnny promptly. "I am in thorough agreement with your infinitely astounding
promulgation. You can count on me for thorough coöperation. The possibilities are unlimited. When do
we embark upon this enterprise?"
Apparently, the abrupt reversal of his attitude was no ruse on the part of Johnny. Nor did Professor
Randolph indicate he suspected it might be such.
Randolph walked along, speaking with others who had opposed his announced experiment. All must
have given the same agreement as Johnny. They were being released from the weird chairs.
The coppery discs beside each chair ceased to whirr.
"All along," stated Johnny, "I have believed in a universal and supreme ebullition of power."
No one replied. None was listening at the moment. Professor Randolph was snapping out orders. The
explosive force of the Silver Cylinder was being turned on.
Within a few minutes, the stratosphere ship was again in the air. Its course was on an upward angle,
which would carry it back from the Arizona desert toward the Texas sky from which it had detoured.
As the silver airship rose rapidly into the sky, Professor Randolph looked around him.
"This time," he announced solemnly, "we shall remain on top of the world."
Professor Randolph must have been mistaken. He and his companions failed to "stay on top of the
world."
IN the weeks which had elapsed since the disappearance of William Harper Littlejohn in the stratosphere
ship of Professor Randolph, Doc Savage’s companions had been somewhat scattered.
Colonel John Renwick, known as "Renny," the big-fisted engineer, was in Japan on a project that was to
make him a wealthy man, although in his own right Renny was a millionaire.
Brigadier General Theodore Marley Brooks, the Beau Brummell of the group, but known as "Ham," was
absent from Manhattan. When it came to lawyers, it was doubtful if any were smarter than Ham, and
certainly none were better dressed.
With Ham was the ugliest and most likeable personage perhaps of all. He was Andrew Blodgett Mayfair,
but because of his resemblance to the apes in the jungle, he was known as "Monk." As for Monk,
industrial chemistry owed him many great debts, he being one of the best chemists in the land.
At the present time, Ham and Monk were together in the same city. Ham was attending a convention of
the American Bar Association of Lawyers. Monk was at another conference named The World Society
of Chemists. Both conferences were in Salt Lake City.
Long Tom was the only one who was with Doc at the present time. He was busy working at Doc’s
complicated radio system. On his face was a look of gloom. Something like permanent sorrow had come
upon Doc and his companions since the apparent fate of Johnny.
Long Tom suddenly stepped back from the complicated system of knobs and dials on Doc’s special
shortwave radio set. Long Tom’s hands jerked loose.
"Great Scott, Doc!" he exploded. "I got something that I wasn’t expecting! Now how in thunderation
could the juice leak through like that?"
"Perhaps it wasn’t the electricity," commented Doc. "I have been noticing the vibration needles for some
time. If you will take a look at the television plate, you will observe some shadowy substance."
Doc’s televisor was one of his first radio triumphs. He was possibly the first man in the world to make it
possible to see the broadcaster of a message. However, this was limited to the special shortwave band
employed by his own men and himself.
At this time, a shadow appeared to be moving across the slate-colored glass. For a time it looked as if it
were the replica of a man’s hand. Then it took on what might have been a human face.
"Throw the switch over to the amateur shortwave band," Doc suddenly directed Long Tom. "Perhaps
some enthusiast has come close to our own set-up."
As Long Tom threw the switch over, bringing in what might have been any amateur on his allotted and
limited broadcasting wave, a blurred voice mumbled.
"Blub-blub-blub—"
it went.
At the same time, the shadow in the televisor became more like a human face. The features, however,
were indistinct. They appeared somewhat like a futuristic painting.
"Great Scott!" came from Long Tom, who did not often grow excited. "I thought I heard it say, ‘Doc
Savage!’"
"You are correct, Long Tom. Perhaps I can clear it up."
The voice cleared only enough for thickly mumbled words to become intelligible. The bronze giant had
the world’s keenest auditory sense. For years, his ears had been trained by a special scale-sounding
instrument of his own devising.
At this time, he could make out words where Long Tom heard only the confused mumbling.
"Doc Savage—Union Square—eight o’clock tonight—affects millions—you will hear
later—reception will be clearer—Doc—I will tell—"
Whatever the voice out of the mysterious distance would tell was lost in strident static. But throughout the
laboratory trilled the sound of surprise, of danger, of concentration. Only when something greatly stirred
Doc’s emotions was this rare, indefinable trilling to be heard.
"What is it, Doc?" said Long Tom. "I couldn’t make head or tail of the voice."
"Long Tom, no radio voice ever came from occult forces, so far as science has ever determined," Doc
stated quietly. "But only just now I came to believe Johnny is not dead. He did not perish on Professor
Randolph’s ship."
Long Tom gulped.
"We shall go to Union Square this evening at eight o’clock," said Doc. "This could be some amateur
broadcaster attempting his crude idea of a joke, but I believe it is serious."
IT is said that "anything can happen, and usually does" in Manhattan’s Union Square.
Over in one corner of the Square a group with banners held a place. A youth was on a box. His words
and the banners indicated this group were backers of one of several forms of social security.
The Square was unusually crowded. More than the customary number of citizens seemed to have been
drawn here tonight. Doc’s keen ears caught the remark of a woman in a group close by.
"I was on the amateur short wave, an’ I heard a funny message to Doc Savage," she was saying. "I hope
I do get to see that man, I’ve heard so much about him."
From the increasing number of people, it seemed that every radio fan on the amateur short-wave band
had hurried to Union Square for a possible glimpse of the noted bronze adventurer.
Doc Savage searched the crowd with his flake-gold eyes. In all this milling Manhattan throng he was
seeking something which even Long Tom did not suspect.
The banners of the group advocating its form of social security jutted above the heads of a score of
persons. More than a hundred others were surrounding this box.
Near Doc and Long Tom a tall, pale-faced old man had taken up his stand. Before him a huge, long
telescope was set upon a brass-legged tripod. The telescope pointed directly at one of the brightest stars.
Doc noted this was Jupiter, then in its ascendancy. The night was unusually clear. Jupiter glowed plainly.
Doc was watching, listening to the human movement and muttering of voices throughout the Square. His
eyes turned back often to the thin, tall old man with his pointed telescope.
Business either was poor, or the telescope man was making no great effort to gain patronage. The man
seemed more interested in the social security meeting.
A young woman was replacing the youth who had been speaking.
Doc Savage said nothing to Long Tom. He remained motionless. Only a score or more persons nearest
him looked up and around quickly. Perhaps they imagined some rare, tropical bird had escaped and
flown to Union Square.
From Doc was coming the note of sudden concentration, or of possible impending danger. His eyes
whipped from the young woman to the old man beside the telescope.
Doc stood motionless, waiting. He was not sure what he was waiting for, but the very good-looking
young woman now smiling from the speaker’s box a few yards away was well known to him.
And she was Ann Garvin, herself a professor of sociology. This simple fact would not thus have riveted
the bronze man to attention. What held him was knowing that Ann Garvin had been betrothed to
Professor Homer Randolph up to the time his stratosphere ship had blown itself to bits.
"Be prepared for some quick action," Doc advised Long Tom, in a low tone. "I am not sure just what is
about to happen, but I still believe it may have a great deal to do with Johnny."
ANN GARVIN commenced speaking. Her voice was liquidly pleasing. It rang with the sincerity of her
belief.
"Not all of us were created for work!" she asserted. "I believe there should be provision made by society
for support of all its creative artists—"
The pretty young woman’s idea of a workless era—presumably for the class now surrounding
her—elicited ringing cheers. The flamboyant banners were jostled and shaken in encouragement.
"The old man with the telescope apparently is not greatly interested in earning dimes," said Doc to Long
Tom.
"Looks more like some photographer trying to get a slant on the woman speaker," commented Long
Tom. "Perhaps he has a camera hidden in the telescope."
The tall man beside the telescope had pushed away a woman who had just held out a dime. He was
slowly bringing the lense of the telescope lower. The instrument now seemed to point directly at the
attractive Ann Garvin.
Doc touched Long Tom’s arm and started to glide slowly toward the speaker’s box. He accomplished
this with the movement of a jungle cat. Though there was a crowd, none touched him and he touched no
one.
The old telescope man appeared to have a sudden interest in all the social security group. He was
applying one eye to the telescope, as if bringing the speaker and her cheering supporters closer.
For an instant, Ann Garvin hesitated in her speech. She stood perfectly motionless. She was a tall and
striking blonde. If she could have held that pose, a sculptor would have been delighted.
But abruptly Ann Garvin threw out her hands.
"It’s all silly, ridiculous nonsense!" she cried out. "We cannot hope to accomplish anything in life without
working for it! Suppose some are artistic, creative? If they cannot earn their own recognition, they do not
deserve it—"
Doc Savage had halted. He stood, with Long Tom beside him, close to the pointed telescope.
Long Tom, who usually had little humor, drawled laughingly, "I would say the speaker has sure taken a
woman’s privilege to change her mind. Doc, that is very odd. The crowd’s taking to her new line."
It was extremely odd.
"That’s what we all want!" voices were shouting. "If we hope to get anywhere, we’ve got to work for it!
Hey! Throw down the banners! We’ll face things like they are!"
A big Irish policeman who had been listening looked as if he were about to lose his lower jaw. His big
mouth gaped open. The brawny copper had seen many human vagaries demonstrated in Union Square.
None had ever been more disconcerting than this.
"Shure, an’ it’s some kind of a trick!" he grumbled.
He shouldered toward the speaker’s box. All the crowd had sensed something new—something beyond
their understanding. Banners which had demanded workless security for a definite class were being
trampled underfoot.
DOC SAVAGE halted abruptly, waiting. His hand touched Long Tom’s arm. His eyes were upon the
摘要：

HECOULDSTOPTHEWORLDADocSavageAdventureByKennethRobesonThispagecopyright©2001BlackmaskOnline.http://www.blackmask.com?ChapterI.RAINOFDEATH?ChapterII.ASHESATUNIONSQUARE?ChapterIII.LOSTRADIOWAVES?ChapterIV.MESSAGEFROMTHEDEAD?ChapterV.WHENTHESNOWBURNED?ChapterVI.THECRAZYMOUNTAIN?ChapterVII.ASHESOFMURDER...

展开>> 收起<<
Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 053 - He Could Stop the World.pdf

共95页,预览19页

还剩页未读， 继续阅读

声明：本站为文档C2C交易模式，即用户上传的文档直接被用户下载，本站只是中间服务平台，本站所有文档下载所得的收益归上传人(含作者)所有。玖贝云文库仅提供信息存储空间，仅对用户上传内容的表现方式做保护处理，对上载内容本身不做任何修改或编辑。若文档所含内容侵犯了您的版权或隐私，请立即通知玖贝云文库，我们立即给予删除！

相关推荐

更多
立即下载
分类：外语学习 价格：5.9玖币 属性：95 页 大小：223.6KB 格式：PDF 时间：2024-12-19

开通VIP享超值会员特权

  • 多端同步记录
  • 高速下载文档
  • 免费文档工具
  • 分享文档赚钱
  • 每日登录抽奖
  • 优质衍生服务

作者详情

相关内容

更多

热门标签

人际关系 配电装置 动力学连接体 力的合成 高考理综 全宋诗作者索引 公务员考试
/ 95
评分 收藏
分享
立即下载 VIP免费下载
客服
关注