An exercise in kitsch: a sinister secret band dedicated to the overthrow of (at the very least) California tangles with intrepid Prince Zarkon, Lord of the Unknown. Doc Savage redivivus, down to the Lemurian overtones, disposable plastic love interest, and fussily archaizing style. A clever recreation--for what it's worth--of a pulp species many middle-aged readers cut their sci-fi teeth on. Carter plans a sequel. . . . Nostalgia is getting to be as inescapable as smog.