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diff --git a/29255.txt b/29255.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..565d4c3 --- /dev/null +++ b/29255.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10785 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Astounding Stories of Super-Science +September 1930, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Astounding Stories of Super-Science September 1930 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: June 27, 2009 [EBook #29255] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ASTOUNDING STORIES, SEPT 1930 *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + + +20c + + ASTOUNDING + STORIES + OF SUPER-SCIENCE + + _On Sale the First Thursday of Each Month_ + + W. M. CLAYTON, Publisher + + HARRY BATES, Editor + + DR. DOUGLAS M. DOLD, Consulting Editor + + * * * * * + + [Illustration] + + The Clayton Standard on a Magazine Guarantees + + _That_ the stories therein are clean, interesting, vivid, by leading + writers of the day and purchased under conditions approved by the + Authors' League of America; + + _That_ such magazines are manufactured in Union shops by American + workmen; + + _That_ each newsdealer and agent is insured a fair profit; + + _That_ an intelligent censorship guards their advertising pages. + + _The other Clayton magazines are_: + + ACE-HIGH MAGAZINE, RANCH ROMANCES, COWBOY STORIES, CLUES, FIVE-NOVELS + MONTHLY, ALL STAR DETECTIVE STORIES, RANGELAND LOVE STORY + MAGAZINE, WESTERN ADVENTURES, and FOREST AND STREAM. + + _More than Two Million Copies Required to Supply the Monthly Demand for + Clayton Magazines._ + + * * * * * + + VOL. III. No. 3 CONTENTS SEPTEMBER, 1930 + + COVER DESIGN H. W. WESSOLOWSKI + _Painted in Water-Colors from a Scene in "Marooned Under the Sea."_ + + A PROBLEM IN COMMUNICATION MILES J. BREUER, M.D. 293 + _The Delivery of His Country into the Clutches of a Merciless, + Ultra-Modern Religion Can Be Prevented Only by Dr. Hagstrom's + Deciphering an Extraordinary Code._ + + JETTA OF THE LOWLANDS RAY CUMMINGS 310 + _Fantastic and Sinister Are the Lowlands into Which Philip Grant Descends + on His Dangerous Assignment._ (Beginning a Three-Part Novel.) + + THE TERRIBLE TENTACLES, OF L-472 SEWELL PEASLEE WRIGHT 332 + _Commander John Hanson of the Special Patrol Service Records Another of + His Thrilling Interplanetary Assignments._ + + MAROONED UNDER THE SEA PAUL ERNST 346 + _Three Men Stick Out a Strange and Desperate Adventure Among the + Incredible Monsters of the Dark Sea Floor._ (A Complete Novelette.) + + THE MURDER MACHINE HUGH B. CAVE 377 + _Four Lives Lay Helpless Before the Murder Machine, the Uncanny Device by + Which Hypnotic Thought Waves Are Filtered Through Men's Minds to Mold + Them Into Murdering Tools._ + + THE ATTACK FROM SPACE CAPTAIN S. P. MEEK 390 + _From a Far World Came Monstrous Invaders Who Were All the More + Terrifying Because Invisible._ + + EARTH, THE MARAUDER ARTHUR J. BURKS 408 + _Martian Fire-Balls and the Terrific Moon-Cubes Wreak Tremendous + Destruction on Helpless Earth in the Final Death Struggle of the Warring + Worlds._ (Conclusion.) + + THE READERS' CORNER ALL OF US 423 + _A Meeting Place for Readers of Astounding Stories._ + + * * * * * + + Single Copies, 20 Cents (In Canada, 25 Cents) Yearly Subscription, $2.00 + +Issued monthly by Publishers' Fiscal Corporation, 80 Lafayette St., New +York, N. Y. W. M. Clayton, President; Nathan Goldmann, Secretary. +Entered as second-class matter December 7, 1929, at the Post Office at +New York, N. Y., under Act of March 3, 1879. Title registered as a Trade +Mark in the U. S. Patent Office. Member Newsstand Group--Men's List. For +advertising rates address E. R. Crowe & Co., Inc., 25 Vanderbilt Ave., +New York; or 225 North Michigan Ave., Chicago. + + + + +[Illustration: I saw the famous Science Temple with its constant stream +of worshippers.] + +A Problem in Communication + +_By Miles J. Breuer, M.D._ + + +PART I + +_The Science Community_ + +(This part is related by Peter Hagstrom, Ph.D.) + + +"The ability to communicate ideas from one individual to another," said +a professor of sociology to his class, "is the principal distinction +between human beings and their brute forbears. The increase and +refinement of this ability to communicate is an index of the degree of +civilization of a people. The more civilized a people, the more perfect +their ability to communicate, especially under difficulties and in +emergencies." + +[Sidenote: _The delivery of his country into the clutches of a +merciless, ultra-modern religion can be prevented only by Dr. Hagstrom's +deciphering an extraordinary code._] + +As usual, the observation burst harmlessly over the heads of most of the +students in the class, who were preoccupied with more immediate +things--with the evening's movies and the week-end's dance. But upon two +young men in the class, it made a powerful impression. It crystallized +within them certain vague conceptions and brought them to a conscious +focus, enabling the young men to turn formless dreams into concrete +acts. That is why I take the position that the above enthusiastic words +of this sociology professor, whose very name I have forgotten, were the +prime moving influence which many years later succeeded in saving +Occidental civilization from a catastrophe which would have been worse +than death and destruction. + + * * * * * + +One of these young men was myself, and the other was my lifelong friend +and chum, Carl Benda, who saved his country by solving a tremendously +difficult scientific puzzle in a simple way, by sheer reasoning power, +and without apparatus. The sociology professor struck a responsive chord +in us: for since our earliest years we had wigwagged to each other as +Boy Scouts, learned the finger alphabet of the deaf and dumb so that we +might maintain communication during school hours, strung a telegraph +wire between our two homes, admired Poe's "Gold Bug" together and +devised boyish cipher codes in which to send each other postcards when +chance separated us. But we had always felt a little foolish about what +we considered our childish hobbies, until the professor's words suddenly +roused us to the realization that we were a highly civilized pair of +youngsters. + +Not only did we then and there cease feeling guilty about our secret +ciphers and our dots and dashes, but the determination was born within +us to make of communication our life's work. It turned out that both of +us actually did devote our lives to the cause of communication; but the +passing years saw us engaged in widely and curiously divergent phases of +the work. Thirty years later, I was Professor of the Psychology of +Language at Columbia University, and Benda was Maintenance Engineer of +the Bell Telephone Company of New York City; and on his knowledge and +skill depended the continuity and stability of that stupendously complex +traffic, the telephone communication of Greater New York. + + * * * * * + +Since our ambitious cravings were satisfied in our everyday work, and +since now ordinarily available methods of communication sufficed our +needs, we no longer felt impelled to signal across the house-tops with +semaphores nor to devise ciphers that would defy solution. But we still +kept up our intimate friendship and our intense interest in our beloved +subject. We were just as close chums at the age of fifty as we had been +at ten, and just as thrilled at new advances in communication: at +television, at the international language, at the supposed signals from +Mars. + +That was the state of affairs between us up to a year ago. At about that +time Benda resigned his position with the New York Bell Telephone +Company to accept a place as the Director of Communication in the +Science Community. This, for many reasons, was a most amazing piece of +news to myself and to anyone who knew Benda. + +Of course, it was commonly known that Benda was being sought by +Universities and corporations: I know personally of several tempting +offers he had received. But the New York Bell is a wealthy corporation +and had thus far managed to hold Benda, both by the munificence of its +salary and by the attractiveness of the work it offered him. That the +Science Community would want Benda was easy to understand; but, that it +could outbid the New York Bell, was, to say the least, a surprise. + +Furthermore, that a man like Benda would want to have anything at all to +do with the Science Community seemed strange enough in itself. He had +the most practical common sense--well-balanced habits of thinking and +living, supported by an intellect so clear and so keen that I knew of +none to excel it. What the Science Community was, no one knew exactly; +but that there was something abnormal, fanatical, about it, no one +doubted. + + * * * * * + +The Science Community, situated in Virginia, in the foothills of the +Blue Ridge, had first been heard of many years ago, when it was already +a going concern. At the time of which I now speak, the novelty had worn +off, and no one paid any more attention to it than they do to Zion City +or the Dunkards. By this time, the Science Community was a city of a +million inhabitants, with a vast outlying area of farms and gardens. It +was modern to the highest degree in construction and operation; there +was very little manual labor there; no poverty; every person had all the +benefits of modern developments in power, transportation, and +communication, and of all other resources provided by scientific +progress. + +So much, visitors and reporters were able to say. + +The rumors that it was a vast socialistic organization, without private +property, with equal sharing of all privileges, were never confirmed. It +is a curious observation that it was possible, in this country of ours, +for a city to exist about which we knew so little. However, it seemed +evident from the vast number and elaboration of public buildings, the +perfection of community utilities such as transportation, streets, +lighting, and communication, from the absence of individual homes and +the housing of people in huge dormitories, that some different, less +individualistic type of social organization than ours was involved. It +was obvious that as an organization, the Science Community must also be +wealthy. If any of its individual citizens were wealthy, no one knew it. + +I knew Benda as well as I knew myself, and if I was sure of anything in +my life, it was that he was not the type of man to leave a fifty +thousand dollar job and join a communist city on an equal footing with +the clerks in the stores. As it happens, I was also intimately +acquainted with John Edgewater Smith, recently Power Commissioner of New +York City and the most capable power engineer in North America, who, +following Benda by two or three months, resigned his position, and +accepted what his letter termed the place of Director of Power in the +Science Community. I was personally in a position to state that neither +of these men could be lightly persuaded into such a step, and that +neither of them would work for a small salary. + + * * * * * + +Benda's first letter to me stated that he was at the Science Community +on a visit. He had heard of the place, and while at Washington on +business had taken advantage of the opportunity to drive out and see it. +Fascinated by the equipment he saw there, he had decided to stay a few +days and study it. The next letter announced his acceptance of the +position. I would give a month's salary to get a look at those letters +now; but I neglected to preserve them. I should like to see them because +I am curious as to whether they exhibit the characteristics of the +subsequent letters, some of which I now have. + +As I have stated, Benda and I had been on the most intimate terms for +forty years. His letters had always been crisp and direct, and +thoroughly familiar and confidential. I do not know just how many +letters I received from him from the Science Community before I noted +the difference, but I have one from the third month of his stay there +(he wrote every two or three weeks), characterized by a verbosity that +sounded strange for him. He seemed to be writing merely to cover the +sheet, trifles such as he had never previously considered worth writing +letters about. Four pages of letter conveyed not a single idea. Yet +Benda was, if anything, a man of ideas. + +There followed several months of letters like that: a lot of words, +evasion of coming to the point about anything; just conventional +letters. Benda was the last man to write a conventional letter. Yet, it +was Benda writing them: gruff little expressions of his, clear ways of +looking at even the veriest trifles, little allusion to our common past: +these things could neither have been written by anyone else, nor written +under compulsion from without. Something had changed Benda. + + * * * * * + +I pondered on it a good deal, and could think of no hypothesis to +account for it. In the meanwhile, New York City lost a third technical +man to the Science Community. Donald Francisco, Commissioner of the +Water Supply, a sanitary engineer of international standing, accepted a +position in the Science Community as Water Director. I did not know +whether to laugh and compare it to the National Baseball League's +trafficking in "big names," or to hunt for some sinister danger sign in +it. But, as a result of my ponderings, I decided to visit Benda at The +Science Community. + +I wrote him to that effect, and almost decided to change my mind about +the visit because of the cold evasiveness of the reply I received from +him. My first impulse on reading his indifferent, lackadaisical comment +on my proposed visit was to feel offended, and determine to let him +alone and never see him again. The average man would have done that, but +my long years of training in psychological interpretation told me that a +character and a friendship built during forty years does not change in +six months, and that there must be some other explanation for this. I +wrote him that I was coming. I found that the best way to reach the +Science Community was to take a bus out from Washington. It involved a +drive of about fifty miles northwest, through a picturesque section of +the country. The latter part of the drive took me past settlements that +looked as though they might be in about the same stage of progress as +they had been during the American Revolution. The city of my destination +was back in the hills, and very much isolated. During the last ten miles +we met no traffic at all, and I was the only passenger left in the bus. +Suddenly the vehicle stopped. + +"Far as we go!" the driver shouted. + +I looked about in consternation. All around were low, wild-looking +hills. The road went on ahead through a narrow pass. + +"They'll pick you up in a little bit," the driver said as he turned +around and drove off, leaving me standing there with my bag, very much +astonished at it all. + + * * * * * + +He was right. A small, neat-looking bus drove through the pass and +stopped for me. As I got in, the driver mechanically turned around and +drove into the hills again. + +"They took up my ticket on the other bus," I said to the driver. "What +do I owe you?" + +"Nothing," he said curtly. "Fill that out." He handed me a card. + +An impertinent thing, that card was. Besides asking for my name, +address, nationality, vocation, and position, it requested that I state +whom I was visiting in the Science Community, the purpose of my visit, +the nature of my business, how long I intended to stay, did I have a +place to stay arranged for, and if so, where and through whom. It looked +for all the world as though they had something to conceal; Czarist +Russia couldn't beat that for keeping track of people and prying into +their business. Sign here, the card said. + +It annoyed me, but I filled it out, and, by the time I was through, the +bus was out of the hills, traveling up the valley of a small river; I am +not familiar enough with northern Virginia to say which river it was. +There was much machinery and a few people in the broad fields. In the +distance ahead was a mass of chimneys and the cupolas of iron-works, but +no smoke. + +There were power-line towers with high-tension insulators, and, far +ahead, the masses of huge elevators and big, square buildings. Soon I +came in sight of a veritable forest of huge windmills. + +In a few moments, the huge buildings loomed up over me; the bus entered +a street of the city abruptly from the country. One moment on a country +road, the next moment among towering buildings. We sped along swiftly +through a busy metropolis, bright, airy, efficient looking. The traffic +was dense but quiet, and I was confident that most of the vehicles were +electric; for there was no noise nor gasoline odor. Nor was there any +smoke. Things looked airy, comfortable, efficient; but rather +monotonous, dull. There was a total lack of architectural interest. The +buildings were just square blocks, like neat rows of neat boxes. But, it +all moved smoothly, quietly, with wonderful efficiency. + + * * * * * + +My first thought was to look closely at the people who swarmed the +streets of this strange city. Their faces were solemn, and their clothes +were solemn. All seemed intently busy, going somewhere, or doing +something; there was no standing about, no idle sauntering. And look +whichever way I might, everywhere there was the same blue serge, on men +and women alike, in all directions, as far as I could see. + +The bus stopped before a neat, square building of rather smaller size, +and the next thing I knew, Benda was running down the steps to meet me. +He was his old gruff, enthusiastic self. + +"Glad to see you, Hagstrom, old socks!" he shouted, and gripped my hand +with two of his. "I've arranged for a room for you, and we'll have a +good old visit, and I'll show you around this town." + +I looked at him closely. He looked healthy and well cared-for, all +except for a couple of new lines of worry on his face. Undoubtedly that +worn look meant some sort of trouble. + + +PART II + +_The New Religion_ + +(This part is interpolated by the author into Dr. Hagstrom's narrative.) + +Every great religion has as its psychological reason for existence the +mission of compensating for some crying, unsatisfied human need. +Christianity spread and grew among people who were, at the time, +persecuted subjects or slaves of Rome; and it flourished through the +Middle Ages at a time when life held for the individual chiefly pain, +uncertainty, and bereavement. Christianity kept the common man consoled +and mentally balanced by minimizing the importance of life on earth and +offering compensation afterwards and elsewhere. + +A feeble nation of idle dreamers, torn by a chaos of intertribal feuds +within, menaced by powerful, conquest-lusting nations from without, +Arabia was enabled by Islam, the religion of her prophet Mohammed, to +unite all her sons into an intense loyalty to one cause, and to turn her +dream-stuff into reality by carrying her national pride and honor beyond +her boundaries and spreading it over half the known world. + +The ancient Greeks, in despair over the frailties of human emotion and +the unbecomingness of worldly conduct, which their brilliant minds +enabled them to recognize clearly but which they found themselves +powerless to subdue, endowed the gods, whom they worshipped, with all of +their own passions and weaknesses, and thus the foolish behavior of the +gods consoled them for their own obvious shortcomings. So it goes +throughout all of the world's religions. + +In the middle of the twentieth century there were in the civilized +world, millions of people in whose lives Christianity had ceased to play +any part. Yet, psychically--remember, "psyche" means "soul"--they were +just as sick and unbalanced, just as much in need of some compensation +as were the subjects of the early Roman empire, or the Arabs in the +Middle Ages. They were forced to work at the strained and monotonous +pace of machines; they were the slaves, body and soul, of machines; they +lived with machines and lived like machines--they were expected to _be_ +machines. A mechanized mode of life set a relentless pace for them, +while, just as in all the past ages, life and love, the breezes and the +blue sky called to them; but they could not respond. They had to drive +machines so that machines could serve them. Minds were cramped and +emotions were starved, but hands must go on guiding levers and keeping +machines in operation. Lives were reduced to such a mechanical routine +that men wondered how long human minds and human bodies could stand the +restraint. There is a good deal in the writings of the times to show +that life was becoming almost unbearable for three-fourths of humanity. + + * * * * * + +It is only natural, therefore, that Rohan, the prophet of the new +religion, found followers more rapidly than he could organize them. +About ten years before the visit of Dr. Hagstrom to his friend Benda, +Rohan and his new religion had been much in the newspapers. Rohan was a +Slovak, apparently well educated in Europe. When he first attracted +attention to himself, he was foreman in a steel plant at Birmingham, +Alabama. He was popular as an orator, and drew unheard-of crowds to his +lectures. + +He preached of _Science_ as God, an all-pervading, inexorably systematic +Being, the true Center and Motive-Power of the Universe; a Being who saw +men and pitied them because they could not help committing inaccuracies. +The Science God was helping man become more perfect. Even now, men were +much more accurate and systematic than they had been a hundred years +ago; men's lives were ordered and rhythmic, like natural laws, not like +the chaotic emotions of beasts and savages. + +Somehow, he soon dropped out of the attention of the great mass of the +public. Of course, he did so intentionally, when his ideas began to +crystallize and his plans for his future organization began to form. At +first he had a sort of church in Birmingham, called The Church of the +Scientific God. There never was anything cheap nor blatant about him. +When he moved his church from Birmingham to the Lovett Branch Valley in +northern Virginia, he was hardly noticed. But with him went seven +thousand people, to form the nucleus of the Science Community. + + * * * * * + +Since then, some feature writer for a metropolitan Sunday paper has +occasionally written up the Science Community, both from its physical +and its human aspects. From these reports, the outstanding bit of +evidence is that Rohan believes intensely in his own religion, and that +his followers are all loyal worshippers of the Science God. They +conceive the earth to be a workshop in which men serve Science, their +God, serving a sort of apprenticeship during which He perfects them to +the state of ideal machines. To be a perfect machine, always accurate, +with no distracting emotions, no getting off the track--that was the +ideal which the Great God _Science_ required of his worshippers. To be a +perfect machine, or a perfect cog in a machine, to get rid of all +individuality, all disturbing sentiment, that was their idea of supreme +happiness. Despite the obvious narrowness it involved, there was +something sublime in the conception of this religion. It certainly had +nothing in common with the "Christian Science" that was in vogue during +the early years of the twentieth Century; it towered with a noble +grandeur above that feeble little sham. + +The Science Community was organized like a machine: and all men played +their parts, in government, in labor, in administration, in production, +like perfect cogs and accurate wheels, and the machine functioned +perfectly. The devotees were described as fanatical, but happy. They +certainly were well trained and efficient. The Science Community grew. +In ten years it had a million people, and was a worldwide wonder of +civic planning and organization; it contained so many astonishing +developments in mechanical service to human welfare and comfort that it +was considered as a sort of model of the future city. The common man +there was provided with science-produced luxuries, in his daily life, +that were in the rest of the world the privilege of the wealthy few--but +he used his increased energy and leisure in serving the more devotedly, +his God, Science, who had made machines. There was a great temple in the +city, the shape of a huge dynamo-generator, whose interior was worked +out in a scheme of mechanical devices, and with music, lights, and odors +to help in the worship. + + * * * * * + +What the world knew the least about was that this religion was becoming +militant. Its followers spoke of the heathen without, and were horrified +at the prevalence of the sin of individualism. They were inspired with +the mission that the message of God--scientific perfection--must be +carried to the whole world. But, knowing that vested interests, +governments, invested capital, and established religions would oppose +them and render any real progress impossible, they waited. They studied +the question, looking for some opportunity to spread the gospel of their +beliefs, prepared to do so by force, finding their justification in +their belief that millions of sufferers needed the comforts that their +religion had given them. Meanwhile their numbers grew. + +Rohan was Chief Engineer, which position was equal in honor and dignity +to that of Prophet or High Priest. He was a busy, hard-worked man, black +haired and gaunt, small of stature and fiery eyed; he looked rather +like an overworked department-store manager rather than like a prophet. +He was finding his hands more full every day, both because of the +extraordinary fertility of his own plans and ideas, and because the +Science Community was growing so rapidly. Among this heterogenous mass +of proselyte strangers that poured into the city and was efficiently +absorbed into the machine, it was yet difficult to find executives, +leaders, men to put in charge of big things. And he needed constantly +more and more of such men. + + * * * * * + +That was why Rohan went to Benda, and subsequently to others like Benda. +Rohan had a deep knowledge of human nature. He did not approach Benda +with the offer of a magnanimous salary, but came into Benda's office +asking for a consultation on some of the puzzling communication problems +of the Science Community. Benda became interested, and on his own +initiative offered to visit the Science Community, saying that he had to +be in Washington anyway in a few days. When he saw what the conditions +were in the Science Community, he became fascinated by its advantages +over New York; a new system to plan from the ground up; no obsolete +installation to wrestle with; an absolutely free hand for the engineer +in charge; no politics to play; no concessions to antiquated city +construction, nor to feeble-minded city administration--just a dream of +an opportunity. He almost asked for the job himself, but Rohan was +tactful enough to offer it, and the salary, though princely, was hardly +given a thought. + +For many weeks Benda was absorbed in his job, to the exclusion of all +else. He sent his money to his New York bank and had his family move in +and live with him. He was happy in his communication problems. + +"Give me a problem in communication and you make me happy," he wrote to +Hagstrom in one of his early letters. + +He had completed a certain division of his work on the Science +Community's communication system, and it occurred to him that a few +days' relaxation would do him good. A run up to New York would be just +the thing. + +To his amazement, he was not permitted to board the outbound bus. + +"You'll need orders from the Chief Engineer's office," the driver said. + + * * * * * + +Benda went to Rohan. + +"Am I a prisoner?" he demanded with his characteristic directness. + +"An embarassing situation," the suave Rohan admitted, very calmly and at +his ease. "You see, I'm nothing like a dictator here. I have no +arbitrary power. Everything runs by system, and you're a sort of +exception. No one knows exactly how to classify you. Neither do I. But, +I can't break a rule. That is sin." + +"What rule? I want to go to New York." + +"Only those of the Faith who have reached the third degree can come and +go. No one can get that in less than three years." + +"Then you got me in here by fraud?" Benda asked bluntly. + +Rohan side-stepped gracefully. + +"You know our innermost secrets now," he explained. "Do you suppose +there is any hope of your embracing the Faith?" + +Benda whirled on his heel and walked out. + +"I'll think about it!" he said, his voice snapping with sarcasm. + +Benda went back to his work in order to get his mind off the matter. He +was a well-balanced man if he was anything; and he knew that nothing +could be accomplished by rash words or incautious moves against Rohan +and his organization. And on that day he met John Edgewater Smith. + +"You here?" Benda gasped. He lost his equilibrium for a moment in +consternation at the sight of his fellow-engineer. + +Smith was too elated to notice Benda's mood. + +"I've been here a week. This is certainly an ideal opportunity in my +line of work. Even in Heaven I never expected to find such a chance." + +By this time Benda had regained control of himself. He decided to say +nothing to Smith for the time being. + + * * * * * + +They did not meet again for several weeks. In the meantime Benda +discovered that his mail was being censored. At first he did not know +that his letters, always typewritten, were copied and objectionable +matter omitted, and his signature reproduced by the photo-engraving +process, separately each time. But before long, several letters came +back to him rubber-stamped: "Not passable. Please revise." It took Benda +two days to cool down and rewrite the first letter. But outwardly no one +would have ever known that there was anything amiss with him. + +However, he took to leaving his work for an hour or two a day and +walking in the park, to think out the matter. He didn't like it. This +was about the time that it began to be a real issue as to who was the +bigger man of the two, Rohan or Benda. But no signs of the issue +appeared externally for many months. + +John Edgewater Smith realized sooner than Benda that he couldn't get +out, because, not sticking to work so closely, he had made the attempt +sooner. He looked very much worried when Benda next saw him. + +"What's this? Do you know about it?" he shouted as soon as he had come +within hearing distance of Benda. + +"What's the difference?" Benda replied casually. "Aren't you satisfied?" + +Smith's face went blank. + +Benda came close to him, linked arms and led him to a broad vacant lawn +in the park. + +"Listen!" he said softly in Smith's ear. "Don't you suppose these +people who lock us in and censor our mail aren't smart enough to spy on +what we say to each other?" + +"Our only hope," Benda continued, "is to learn all we can of what is +going on here. Keep your eyes and ears open and meet me here in a week. +And now come on; we've been whispering here long enough." + + * * * * * + +Oddly enough, the first clue to the puzzle they were trying to solve was +supplied by Francisco, New York's former Water Commissioner. Why were +they being kept prisoners in the city? There must be more reason for +holding them there than the fear that information would be carried out, +for none of the three engineers knew anything about the Science +Community that could be of any possible consequence to outsiders. They +had all stuck rigidly to their own jobs. + +They met Francisco, very blue and dejected, walking in the park a couple +of months later. They had been having weekly meetings, feeling that more +frequent rendezvous might excite suspicion. Francisco was overjoyed to +see them. + +"Been trying to figure out why they want us," he said. "There is +something deeper than the excuse they have made; that rot about a +perfect system and no breaking of rules may be true, but it has nothing +to do with us. Now, here are three of us, widely admitted as having good +heads on us. We've got to solve this." + +"The first fact to work on," he continued, "is that there is no real job +for me here. This city has no water problem that cannot be worked out by +an engineer's office clerk. Why are they holding me here, paying me a +profligate salary, for a job that is a joke for a grown-up man? There's +something behind it that is not apparent on the surface." + +The weekly meetings of the three engineers became an established +institution. Mindful that their conversation was doubtless the object of +attention on the part of the ruling powers of the city through spies +and concealed microphones, they were careful to discuss trivial matters +most of the time, and mentioned their problem only when alone in the +open spaces of the park. + + * * * * * + +After weeks of effort had produced no results, they arrived at the +conclusion that they would have to do some spying themselves. The great +temple, shaped like a dynamo-generator attracted their attention as the +first possibility for obtaining information. Benda, during his work with +telephone and television installation, found that the office of some +sort of ruling council or board of directors were located there. Later +he found that it was called the Science Staff. He managed to slip in +several concealed microphone detectors and wire them to a private +receiver on his desk, doing all the work with his own hands under the +pretense of hunting for a cleverly contrived short-circuit that his +subordinates had failed to find. + +"They open their meeting," he said, reporting several days of listening +to his comrades, "with a lot of religious stuff. They really believe +they are chosen by God to perfect the earth. Their fanaticism has the +Mohammedans beat forty ways. As I get it from listening in, this city is +just a preliminary base from which to carry, forcibly, the gospel of +Scientific Efficiency to the whole world. They have been divinely +appointed to organize the earth. + +"The first thing on the program is the seizure of New York City. And, it +won't be long; I've heard the details of a cut-and-dried plan. When they +have New York, the rest of America can be easily captured, for cities +aren't as independent of each other as they used to be. Getting the rest +of the world into their hands will then be merely a matter of routine; +just a little time, and it will be done. Mohammed's wars weren't in it +with this!" + +Francisco and Smith stared at him aghast. These dull-faced, +blue-sergeclad people did not look capable of it; unless possibly one +noted the fiery glint in their eyes. A worldwide Crusade on a scientific +basis! The idea left them weak and trembling. + +"Got to learn more details before we can do anything," Benda said. "Come +on; we've been whispering here long enough; they'll get suspicious." +Benda's brain was now definitely pitted against this marvelous +organisation. + + * * * * * + +"I've got it!" Benda reported at a later meeting. "I pieced it together +from a few hours listening. Devilish scheme! + +"Can you imagine what would happen in New York in case of a break-down +in water-supply, electric power, and communication? In an hour there +would be a panic; in a day the city would be a hideous shambles of +suffering, starvation, disease, and trampling maniacs. Dante's Inferno +would be a lovely little pleasure-resort in comparison. + +"Also, have you ever stopped to think how few people there are in the +world who understand the handling of these vital elements of our modern +civilized organization sufficiently to keep them in operation? There you +have the scheme. Because they do not want to destroy the city, but +merely to threaten it, they are holding the three of us. A little +skilful management will eliminate all other possible men who could +operate the city's machinery, except ourselves. We three will be placed +in charge. A threat, perhaps a demonstration in some limited section of +what horrors are possible. The city is at their mercy, and promptly +surrenders. + +"An alternative plan was discussed: just a little quiet violence could +eliminate those who are now in charge of the city's works, and the panic +and horrors would commence. But, within an hour of the city's +capitulation, the three of us could have things running smoothly again. +And there would be no New York; in its place would be Science Community +Number Two. From it they could step on to the next city." + +The other two stared at him. There was only one comment. + +"They seem to be sure that they could depend on us," Smith said. + +"They may be correct," Benda replied. "Would you stand by and see people +perish if a turn of your hand could save them? You would for the moment, +forget the issue between the old order and the new religion." + +They separated, horrified by the ghastly simplicity of the plan. + + * * * * * + +Just following this, Benda received the telegram announcing the +prospective visit of his lifelong friend, Dr. Hagstrom. He took it at +once to Rohan. + +"Will my friend be permitted to depart again, if he once gets in here?" +he demanded with his customary directness. + +"It depends on you," Rohan replied blandly. "We want your friend to see +our Community, and to go away and carry with him the nicest possible +reports and descriptions of it to the world. I wonder, do I make myself +clear?" + +"That means I've got to feed him taffy while he's here?" Benda asked +gruffly. + +"You choose to put it indelicately. He is to see and hear only such +things about the Science Community as will please the world and impress +it favorably. I am sure you will understand that under no other +circumstances will he be permitted to leave here." + +Benda turned around abruptly and walked out without a word. + +"Just a moment," Rohan called after him. "I am sure you appreciate the +fact that every precaution will be taken to hear the least word that you +say to him during his stay here? You are watched only perfunctorily now. +While he is here you will be kept track of carefully, and there will be +three methods of checking everything you do or say. I am sure you do not +underestimate our caution in this matter." + +Benda spent the days intervening between then and the arrival of his +friend Hagstrom, closed up in his office, in intense study. He figured +things on pieces of paper, committed them to memory, and scrupulously +burned the paper. Then he wandered about the park and plucked at leaves +and twigs. + + +PART III + +_The Cipher Message_ + +(Related by Peter Hagstrom, Ph.D.) + +Benda conducted me personally to a room very much like an ordinary hotel +room. He was glad to see me. I could tell that from his grip of welcome, +from his pleased face, from the warmth in his voice, from the eager way +in which he hovered around me. I sat down on a bed and he on a chair. + +"Now tell me all about it," I said. + +The room was very still, and in its privacy, following Benda's +demonstrative welcome, I expected some confidential revelations. +Therefore I was astonished. + +"There isn't much to tell," he said gaily. "My work is congenial, +fascinating, and there's enough of it to keep me out of mischief. The +pay is good, and the life pleasant and easy." + +I didn't know what to say for a moment. I had come there with my mind +made up that there was something suspicious afoot. But he seemed +thoroughly happy and satisfied. + +"I'll admit that I treated you a little shabbily in this matter of +letters," he continued. "I suppose it is because I've had a lot of new +and interesting problems on my mind, and it's been hard to get my mind +down to writing letters. But I've got a good start on my job, and I'll +promise to reform." + +I was at a loss to pursue that subject any further. + +"Have you seen Smith and Francisco?" I asked. + +He nodded. + +"How do they like it?" + +"Both are enthusiastic about the wonderful opportunities in their +respective fields. It's a fact: no engineer has ever before had such +resources to work with, on such a vast scale, and with such a free hand. +We're laying the framework for a city of ten millions, all thoroughly +systematized and efficient. There is no city in the world like it; it's +an engineer's dream of Utopia." + + * * * * * + +I was almost convinced. There was only the tiniest of lurking suspicions +that all was not well, but it was not powerful enough to stimulate me to +say anything. But I did determine to keep my eyes open. + +I might as well admit in advance that from that moment to the time when +I left the Science Community four days later, I saw nothing to confirm +my suspicions. I met Smith and Francisco at dinner and the four of us +occupied a table to ourselves in a vast dining hall, and no one paid for +the meal nor for subsequent ones. They also seemed content, and talked +enthusiastically of their work. + +I was shown over the city, through its neat, efficient streets, through +its comfortable dormitories each housing hundreds of families as +luxuriously as any modern hotel, through its marvelous factories where +production had passed the stage of labor and had assumed the condition +of a devoted act of worship. These factory workers were not toiling: +they were worshipping their God, of Whom each machine was a part. +Touching their machine was touching their God. This machinery, while +involving no new principles, was developed and coordinated to a degree +that exceeded anything I had ever seen anywhere else. + +I saw the famous Science Temple in the shape of a huge +dynamo-generator, with its interior decorations, paintings, carvings, +frescoes, and pillars, all worked out on the motive of machinery; with +its constant streams of worshippers in blue serge, performing their +conventional rites and saying their prayer formulas at altars in the +forms of lathes, microscopes, motors, and electron-tubes. + +"You haven't become a Science Communist yourself?" I bantered Benda. + +There was a metallic ring in the laugh he gave. + +"They'd like to have me!" was all he said. + + * * * * * + +I was rather surprised at the emptiness of the large and well-kept park +to which Benda took me. It was beautifully landscaped, but only a few +scattering people were there, lost in its vast reaches. + +"These people seem to have no need of recreation," Benda said. "They do +not come here much. But I confess that I need air and relaxation, even +if only for short snatches. I've been too busy to get away for long at a +time, but this park has helped me keep my balance--I'm here every day +for at least a few minutes." + +"Beautiful place," I remarked. "A lot of strange trees and plants I +never saw before--" + +"Oh, mostly tropical forms, common enough in their own habitats. They +have steam pipes under the ground to grow them. I've been trying to +learn something about them. Fancy _me_ studying natural history! I've +never cared for it, but here, where there is no such things as +recreation, I have become intensely interested in it as a hobby. I find +it very much of a rest to study these plants and bugs." + +"Why don't you run up to New York for a few days?" + +"Oh, the time will come for that. In the meanwhile, I've got an idea all +of a sudden. Speaking of New York, will you do me a little service? Even +though you might think it silly?" + +"I'll do anything I can," I began, eager to be of help to him. + +"It has been somewhat of a torture to me," Benda continued, "to find so +many of these forms which I am unable to identify. I like to be +scientific, even in my play, and reference books on plants and insects +are scarce here. Now, if you would carry back a few specimens for me, +and ask some of the botany and zoology people to send me their names--" + +"Fine!" I exclaimed. "I've got a good-sized pocket notebook I can carry +them in." + +"Well then, please put them in the order in which I hand them to you, +and send me the names by number. I am pretty thoroughly familiar with +them, and if you will keep them in order, there is no need for me to +keep a list. The first is a blade of this queer grass." + +I filed the grass blade between the first two pages of my book. + +"The next is this unusual-looking pinnate leaf." He tore off a dry +leaflet and handed me a stem with three leaflets irregularly disposed of +it. + +"Now leave a blank page in your book. That will help me remember the +order in which they come." + + * * * * * + +Next came a flat insect, which, strangely enough, had two legs missing +on one side. However, Benda was moving so fast that I had to put it away +without comment. He kept darting about and handing me twigs of leaves, +little sticks, pieces of bark, insects, not seeming to care much whether +they were complete or not; grass-blades, several dagger-shaped +locust-thorns, cross-sections of curious fruits, moving so rapidly that +in a few moments my notebook bulged widely, and I had to warn him that +its hundred leaves were almost filled. + +"Well, that ought to be enough," he said with a sigh after his lively +exertion. "You don't know how I'll appreciate your indulging my foolish +little whim." + +"Say!" I exclaimed. "Ask something of me. This it nothing. I'll take it +right over to the Botany Department, and in a few days you ought to have +a list of names fit for a Bolshevik." + +"One important caution," he said. "If you disturb their order in the +book, or even the position on the page, the names you send me will mean +nothing to me. Not that it will be any great loss," he added +whimsically. "I suppose I've become a sort of fan on this, like the +business men who claim that their office work interferes with their +golf." + +We walked leisurely back toward the big dormitory. It was while we were +crossing a street that Benda stumbled, and, to dodge a passing truck, +had to catch my arm, and fell against me. I heard his soft voice whisper +in my ear: + +"Get out of this town as soon as you can!" + +I looked at him in startled amazement, but he was walking along, shaking +himself from his stumble, and looking up and down the street for passing +trucks. + +"As I was saying," he said in a matter-of-fact voice, "we expect to +reach the one-and-one-quarter million mark this month. I never saw a +place grow so fast." + + * * * * * + +I felt a great leap of sudden understanding. For a moment my muscles +tightened, but I took my cue. + +"Remarkable place," I said calmly; "one reads a lot of half-truths about +it. Too bad I can't stay any longer." + +"Sorry you have to leave," he said, in exactly the right tone of voice. +"But you can come again." + +How thankful I was for the forty years of playing and working together +that had accustomed us to that sort of team-work! Unconsciously we +responded to one another's cues. Once our ability to "play together" had +saved my life. It was when we were in college and were out on a +cross-country hike together; Benda suddenly caught my hand and swung it +upward. I recognized the gesture; we were cheerleaders and worked +together at football games, and we had one stunt in which we swung our +hands over our heads, jumped about three feet, and let out a whoop. This +was the "stunt" that he started out there in the country, where we were +by ourselves. Automatically, without thinking, I swung my arms and +leaped with him and yelled. Only later did I notice the rattlesnake over +which I had jumped. I had not seen that I was about to walk right into +it, and he had noticed it too late to explain. A flash of genius +suggested the cheering stunt to him. + +"_Communication_ is a science!" he had said, and that was all the +comment there was on the incident. + +So now, I followed my cue, without knowing why, nor what it was all +about, but confident that I should soon find out. By noon I was on the +bus, on my way through the pass, to meet the vehicle from Washington. As +the bus swung along, a number of things kept jumbling through my mind: +Benda's effusive glee at seeing me, and his sudden turning and bundling +me off in a nervous hurry without a word of explanation; his lined and +worried face and yet his insistence on the joys of his work in The +Science Community; his obvious desire to be hospitable and play the good +host, and yet his evasiveness and unwillingness to chat intimately and +discuss important thing as he used to. Finally, that notebook full of +odd specimens bulging in my pocket. And the memory of his words as he +shook hands with me when I was stepping into the bus: + +"Long live the science of communication!" he had said. Otherwise, he was +rather glum and silent. + + * * * * * + +I took out the book of specimens and looked at it. His caution not to +disturb the order and position of things rang in my ears. The Science of +Communication! Two and two were beginning to make four in my mind. All +the way on the train from Washington to New York I could hardly, keep +my hands off the book. I had definitely abandoned the idea of hunting up +botanists and zoologists at Columbia. Benda was not interested in the +names of these things. That book meant something else. Some message. The +Science of Communication! + +That suddenly explained all the contradictions in his behavior. He was +being closely watched. Any attempt to tell me the things he wanted to +say would be promptly recognized. He had succeeded brilliantly in +getting a message to me. Now, my part was to read it! I felt a sudden +sinking within me. That book full of leaves, bugs, and sticks? How could +I make anything out of it? + +"There's the Secret Service," I thought. "They are skilled in reading +hidden messages. It must be an important one, worthy of the efforts of +the Secret Service, or he would not have been at such pains to get it to +me-- + +"But no. The Secret Service is skilled at reading hidden messages, but +not as skilled as I am in reading my friend's mind. Knowing Benda, his +clear intellect, his logical methods, will be of more service in solving +this than all the experts of the Secret Service." + +I barely stopped to eat dinner when I reached home. I hurried to the +laboratory building, and laid out the specimens on white sheets of +paper, meticulously preserving order, position, and spacing. To be on +the safe side I had them photographed, asking the photographer to vary +the scale of his pictures so that all of the final figures would be +approximately the same size. Plate I. shows what I had. + + * * * * * + +I was all a-tremble when the mounted photographs were handed to me. The +first thing I did was to number the specimens, giving each blank space +also its consecutive number. Certainly no one could imagine a more +meaningless jumble of twigs, leaves, berries, and bugs. How could I +read any message out of that? + +Yet I had no doubt that the message concerned something of far more +importance than Benda's own safety. He had moved in this matter with +astonishing skill and breathless caution; yet I knew him to be reckless +to the extreme where only his own skill was concerned. I couldn't even +imagine his going to this elaborate risk merely on account of Smith and +Francisco. Something bigger must be involved. + +I stared at the rows of specimens. + +"Communication is a science!" Benda had said, and it came back to me as +I studied the bent worms and the beetles with two legs missing. I was +confident that the solution would be simple. Once the key idea occurred +to me I knew I should find the whole thing astonishingly direct and +systematic. For a moment I tried to attach some sort of heiroglyphic +significance to the specimen forms; in the writing of the American +Indians, a wavy line meant water, an inverted V meant a wigwam. But, I +discarded that idea in a moment. Benda's mind did not work along the +paths of symbolism. It would have to be something mathematical, rigidly +logical, leaving no room for guess-work. + +No sooner had the key-idea occurred to me than the basic conception +underlying all these rows of twigs and bugs suddenly flashed into clear +meaning before me. The simplicity of it took my breath away. + +"I knew it!" I said aloud, though I was alone. "Very simple." + +I was prepared for the fact that each one of the specimens represented a +letter of the alphabet. If nothing else, their number indicated that. +Now I could see, so clearly that the photographs shouted at me, that +each specimen consisted of an upright stem, and from this middle stem +projected side-arms to the right and to the left, and in various +vertical locations on each side. + +The middle upright stem contained these side-arms in various numbers +and combinations. In five minutes I had a copy of the message, +translated into its fundamental characters, as shown on Plate II. + +[Illustration: Plate I] + +The first grass-blade was the simple, upright stem; the second, three +leaflets on their stem, represented the upright portion with two arms to +the left at the top and middle, and one arm to the right at the top; and +so on. + +That brought the message down to the simple and straightforward matter +of a substitution cipher. I was confident that Benda had no object in +introducing any complications that could possibly be avoided, as his +sole purpose was to get to me the most readable message without getting +caught at it. I recollected now how cautious he had been to hand me no +paper, and how openly and obviously he had dropped each specimen into my +book; because he knew someone was watching him and expecting him to slip +in a message. He had, as I could see now in the retrospect, been +conspicuously careful that nothing suspicious should pass from his hands +to mine. + +[Illustration: Plate II] + +Substitution ciphers are easy to solve, especially for those having some +experience. The method can be found in Edgar Allen Poe's "Gold Bug" and +in a host of its imitators. A Secret Service cipher man could have read +it in an hour. But I knew my friend's mind well enough to find a +short-cut. I knew just how he would go about devising such a cipher, in +fact, how ninety-nine persons out of a hundred with a scientific +education would do it. + +If we begin adding horizontal arms to the middle stem, from top to +bottom and from left to right, the possible characters can be worked out +by the system shown on Plate III. + +[Illustration: Plate III] + +It is most logical to suppose that Benda would begin with the first sign +and substitute the letters of the alphabet in order. That would give us +the cipher code shown on Plate IV. + +It was all very quick work, just as I had anticipated, once the key-idea +had occurred to me. The ease and speed of my method far exceeded that +of Poe's method, but, of course, was applicable only to this particular +case. Substituting letters for signs out of my diagram, I got the +following message: + + AM PRISONER R PLANS CAPTURE OF N Y BY SEIZING POWER WATER AND + PHONES THEN WORLD CONQUEST S O S + +[Illustration: Plate IV] + + +PART IV + +_L'Envoi_ + +(By Peter Hagstrom, M.D.) + +My solution of the message practically ends the story. Events followed +each other from then on like bullets from a machine-gun. A wild drive in +a taxicab brought me to the door of Mayor Anderson at ten o'clock that +night. I told him the story and showed him my photographs. + +Following that I spent many hours telling my story to and consulting +with officers in the War Department. Next afternoon, photographic maps +of the Science Community and its environs, brought by airplanes during +the forenoon, were spread on desks before us. A colonel of marines and a +colonel of aviation sketched plans in notebooks. After dark I sat in a +transport plane with muffled exhaust and propellers, slipping through +the air as silently as a hawk. About us were a dozen bombing planes, and +about fifty transports, carrying a battalion of marines. + +I am not an adventure-loving man. Though a cordon of husky marines about +me was a protection against any possible danger, yet, stealing along +through that wild valley in the Virginia mountains toward the dark +masses of that fanatic city, the silent progress of the long, dark line +through the night, their mysterious disappearance, one by one, as we +neared the city, the creepy, hair-raising journey through the dark +streets--I shall never forget for the rest of my life the sinking +feeling in my abdomen and the throbbing in my head. But I wanted to be +there, for Benda was my lifelong friend. + +I guided them to Rohan's rooms, and saw a dozen dark forms slip in, one +by one. Then we went on to the dormitory where Benda lived. Benda +answered our hammering at his door in his pajamas. He took in the +Captain's automatic, and the bayonets behind me, at a glance. + +"Good boy, Hagstrom!" he said. "I knew you'd do it. There wasn't much +time left. I got my instructions about handling the New York telephone +system to-day." + +As we came out into the street. I saw Rohan handcuffed to two big +marines, and rows of bayonets gleaming in the darkness down the streets. +Every few moments a bright flare shot out from the planes in the sky, +until a squad located the power-house and turned on all the lights they +could find. + +[Illustration] + + + + +Jetta of the Lowlands + +BEGINNING A THREE-PART NOVEL + +By Ray Cummings + + +_Foreword_ + +_Have you ever stood on the seashore, with the breakers rolling at your +feet, and imagined what the scene would be like if the ocean water were +gone? I have had a vision of that many times. Standing on the Atlantic +Coast, gazing out toward Spain, I can envisage myself, not down at the +sea-level, but upon the brink of a height. Spain and the coast of +Europe, off there upon another height._ + +[Sidenote: Fantastic and sinister are the Lowlands into which Philip +Grant descends on his dangerous assignment.] + +_And the depths between? Unreal landscape! Mysterious realm which now we +call the bottom of the sea! Worn and rounded crags; bloated mud-plains; +noisome reaches of ooze which once were the cold and dark and silent +ocean floor, caked and drying in the sun. And off to the south the +little fairy mountain tops of the West Indies rearing their verdured +crowns aloft._ + +[Illustration: "Look around, Chief. See where I am?"] + +_If the ocean water were gone! Can you picture it? A new world, greater +in area than all the land we now have. They would call the former +sea-level the zero-height, perhaps. The depths would go down as far +beneath it as Mount Everest towers above it. Aeroplanes would fly down +into them._ + +_And I can imagine the settlement of these vast new realms: New little +nations being created, born of man's indomitable will to conquer every +adverse condition of inhospitable nature._ + +_A novel setting for a story of adventure. It seems so to me. Can you +say that the oceans will never drain of their water? That an earthquake +will not open a rift--some day in the future--and lower the water into +subterranean caverns? The volume of water of all the oceans is no more +to the volume of the earth than a tissue paper wrapping on an orange._ + +_Is it too great a fantasy? Why, reading the facts of what happened in +1929, it is already prognosticated. The fishing banks off the Coast of +Newfoundland have suddenly sunk. Cable ships repairing a broken cable, +snapped by the earthquake of November 18th, 1929, report that for +distances of a hundred miles on the Grand Banks the cables have +disappeared into unfathomable depths. And before the subterranean +cataclysm, they were within six hundred feet of the surface. And all the +bottom of that section of the North Atlantic seems to have caved in. Ten +thousand square miles dropped out of the bottom of the ocean! Fact, not +fancy._ + +_And so let us enlarge the picture. Let us create the Lowlands--twenty +thousand feet below the zero-height--the setting for a tale of +adventure. The romance of the mist-shrouded deeps. And the romance of +little Jetta._ + + + + +CHAPTER I + +_The Secret Mission_ + + +I was twenty-five years of age that May evening of 2020 when they sent +me south into the Lowlands. I had been in the National Detective Service +Bureau, and then was transferred to the Customs Department, Atlantic +Lowlands Branch. I went alone; it was best, my commander thought. An +assignment needing diplomacy rather than a show of force. + +It was 9 P. M. when I catapulted from the little stage of Long Island +airport. A fair, moonlit evening--a moon just beyond the full, rising to +pale the eastern stars. I climbed about a thousand feet, swung over the +headlands of the Hook, and, keeping in the thousand-foot local lane, +took my course. + +My destination lay some thirteen hundred miles southeast of Great New +York. I could do a good normal three-ninety in this fleet little Wasp, +especially if I kept in the rarer air-pressures over the zero-height. +The thousand-foot lane had a southward drift, this night. I was making +now well over four hundred; I would reach Nareda soon after midnight. + +The Continental Shelf slid beneath me, dropping away as my course took +me further from the Highland borders. The Lowlands lay patched with inky +shadows and splashes of moonlight. Domes with upstanding, rounded heads; +plateaus of naked black rock, ten thousand feet below the zero-height; +trenches, like valleys, ridged and pitted, naked in places like a +pockmarked lunar landscape. Or again, a pall of black mist would +shroud it all, dark curtain of sluggish cloud with moonlight tinging its +edges pallid green. + +To my left, eastward toward the great basin of the mid-Atlantic +Lowlands, there was always a steady downward slope. To the right, it +came up over the continental shelf to the Highlands of the United +States. + +There was often water to be seen in these Lowlands. A spring-fed lake +far down in a caldron pit, spilling into a trench; low-lying, +land-locked little seas; canyons, some of them dry, others filled with +tumultuous flowing water. Or great gashes with water sluggishly flowing, +or standing with a heavy slime, and a pall of uprising vapor in the heat +of the night. + +At 37 deg.N. and 70 deg.W., I passed over the newly named Atlas Sea. A +lake of water here, more than a hundred miles in extent. Its surface +lay fifteen thousand feet below the zero-height; its depth in places was +a full three thousand. It was clear of mist to-night. The moonlight +shimmered on its rippled surface, like pictures my father had often +shown me of the former oceans. + +I passed, a little later, well to the westward of the verdured mountain +top of the Bermudas. + +There was nothing of this flight novel to me. I had frequently flown +over the Lowlands; I had descended into them many times. But never upon +such a mission as was taking me there now. + +I was headed for Nareda, capital village of the tiny Lowland Republic of +Nareda, which only five years ago came into national being as a +protectorate of the United States. Its territory lies just north of the +mountain Highlands of Haiti, Santo Domingo and Porto Rico. A few hundred +miles of tumbled Lowlands, embracing the turgid Nares Sea, whose bottom +is the lowest point of all the Western Hemisphere--some thirty thousand +feet below the zero-height. + +The village of Nareda is far down indeed. I had never been there. My +charts showed it on the southern border of the Nares Sea, at minus +twenty thousand feet, with the Mona Valley behind it like a gash in the +steep upward slopes to the Highlands of Porto Rico and Haiti. + +Nareda has a mixed population of typical Lowland adventures, among which +the hardy Dutch predominate; and Holland and the United States have +combined their influence in the World Court to give it national +identity. + + * * * * * + +And out of this had arisen my mission now. Mercury--the quicksilver of +commerce--so recently come to tremendous value through its universal use +in the new antiseptics which bid fair to check all human disease--was +being produced in Nareda. The import duty into the United States was +being paid openly enough. But nevertheless Hanley's agents believed that +smuggling was taking place. + +It was to investigate this condition that Hanley was sending me. I had +introduction to the Nareda government officials. I was to consult with +Hanley by ether-phone in seeking the hidden source of the contraband +quicksilver, but, in the main, to use my own judgment. + +A mission of diplomacy. I had no mind to pry openly among the people of +these Lowland depths, looking for smugglers. I might, indeed, find them +too unexpectedly! Over-curious strangers are not welcomed by the +Lowlanders. Many have gone into the depths and have never returned.... + +I was above the Nares Sea, by midnight. I was still flying a thousand +feet over the zero-height. Twenty-one thousand feet below me lay the +black expanse of water. The moon had climbed well toward the zenith, +now. Its silver shafts penetrated the hanging mist-stratas. The surface +of the Nares Sea was visible--dark and sullen looking. + +I shifted the angles of incidence of the wings, re-set my propeller +angles and made the necessary carburetor adjustments, switching on the +supercharger which would supply air at normal zero-height pressure to +the carburetors throughout my descent. + +I swung over Nareda. The lights of the little village, far down, dwarfed +by distance, showed like bleary, winking eyes through the mists. The +jagged recesses of the Mona valley were dark with shadow. The Nares Sea +lay like some black monster asleep, and slowly, heavily panting. +Moonlight was over me, with stars and fleecy white clouds. Calm, placid, +atmospheric night was up here. But beneath, it all seemed so mysterious, +fantastic, sinister. + +My heart was pounding as I put the Wasp into a spiral and forced my way +down. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +_The Face at the Window_ + + +With heavy, sluggish engines I panted down and came to rest in the dull +yellow glow of the field lights. A new world here. The field was flat, +caked ooze, cracked and hardened. It sloped upward from the shore toward +where, a quarter of a mile away, I could see the dull lights of the +settlement, blurred by the gathered night vapors. + +The field operator shut off his permission signal and came forward. He +was a squat, heavy-set fellow in wide trousers and soiled white shirt +flung open at his thick throat. The sweat streamed from his forehead. +This oppressive heat! I had discarded my flying garb in the descent. I +wore a shirt, knee-length pants, with hose and wide-soled shoes of the +newly fashioned Lowland design. What few weapons I dared carry were +carefully concealed. No alien could enter Nareda bearing anything +resembling a lethal weapon. + +My wide, thick-soled shoes did not look suspicious for one who planned +much walking on the caked Lowland ooze. But those fat soles were +cleverly fashioned to hide a long, keen knife-blade, like a dirk. I +could lift a foot and get the knife out of its hidden compartment with +fair speed. This I had in one shoe. + +In the other, was the small mechanism of a radio safety recorder and +image finder, with its attendant individual audiophone transmitter and +receiver. A miracle of smallness, these tiny contrivances. With +batteries, wires and grids, the whole device could lay in the palm of +one's hand. Once past this field inspection I would rig it for use under +my shirt, strapped around my chest. And I had some colored magnesium +flares. + + * * * * * + +The field operator came panting. + +"Who are you?" + +"Philip Grant. From Great New York." I showed him my name etched on my +forearm. He and his fellows searched me, but I got by. + +"You have no documents?" + +"No." + +My letter to the President of Nareda was written with invisible ink upon +the fabric of my shirt. If he had heated it to a temperature of 180 deg.F. +or so, and blown the fumes of hydrochloric acid upon it, the writing +would have come out plain enough. + +I said, "You'll house and care for my machine?" + +They would care for it. They told me the price--swindlingly exorbitant +for the unwary traveller who might wander down here. + +"All correct," I said cheerfully. "And half that much more for you and +your men if you give me good service. Where can I have a room and +meals?" + +"Spawn," said the operator. "He is the best. Fat-bellied from his own +good cooking. Take him there, Hugo." + +I had a gold coin instantly ready; and with a few additional directions +regarding my flyer, I started off. + +It had been hot and oppressive standing in the field; it was infinitely +worse climbing the mud-slope into the village; but my carrier, trudging +in advance of me along the dark, winding path up the slope, shouldered +my bag and seemed not to notice the effort. We passed occasional +tube-lights strung on poles. They illumined the heavy rounded crags. A +tumbled region, this slope which once was the ocean floor twenty +thousand feet below the surface. Rifts were here like gulleys; little +buttes reared their rounded, dome heads. And there were caves and +crevices in which deep sea fish once had lurked. + + * * * * * + +For ten minutes or so we climbed. It was past the midnight hour; the +village was asleep. We entered its outposts. The houses were small +structures of clay. In the gloom they looked like drab little beehives +set in unplanned groups, with paths for streets wandering between them. + +Then we came to a more prosperous neighborhood. The street widened and +straightened. The clay houses, still with rounded dome like tops, stood +back from the road, with wooden front fences, and gardens and shrubbery. +The windows and doors were like round finger-holes plugged in the clay +by a giant hand. Occasionally the windows, dimly lighted, stared like +sleeping giant eyes. + +There were flowers in all the more pretentious private gardens. Their +perfume, hanging in the heavy night air, lay on the village, making one +forget the over-curtain of stenching mist. Down by the shore of the +Nares Sea, this world of the depths had seemed darkly sinister. But in +the village now, I felt it less ominous. The scent of the flowers, the +street lined in one place by arching giant fronds drowsing and nodding +overhead--there seemed a strange exotic romance to it. The sultry air +might almost have been sensuous. + +"Much further, Hugo?" + +"No. We are here." + +He turned abruptly into a gateway, led me through a garden and to the +doorway of a large, rambling, one-story building. The news of my coming +had preceded me. A front room was lighted; my host was waiting. + +Hugo set down my bag, accepted another gold coin; and with a queer +sidelong smile, the incentive for which I had not the slightest idea, +he vanished. I fronted my host, this Jacob Spawn. Strange fate that +should have led me to Spawn! And to little Jetta! + + * * * * * + +Spawn was a fat-bellied Dutchman, as the field attendant had said. A +fellow of perhaps fifty-five, with sparse gray hair and a heavy-jowled, +smooth-shaved face from which his small eyes peered stolidly at me. He +laid aside a huge, old-fashioned calabash pipe and offered a pudgy hand. + +"Welcome, young man, to Nareda. Seldom do we see strangers." + +The meal which he presently cooked and served me himself was lavishly +done. He spoke good English, but slowly, heavily, with the guttural +intonation of his race. He sat across the table from me, puffing his +pipe while I ate. + +"What brings you here, young lad? A week, you say?" + +"Or more. I don't know. I'm looking for oil. There should be petroleum +beneath these rocks." + +For an hour I avoided his prying questions. His little eyes roved me, +and I knew he was no fool, this Dutchman, for all his heavy, stolid +look. + +We remained in his kitchen. Save for its mud walls, its concave, +dome-roof, it might have been a cookery of the Highlands. There was a +table with its tube-light; the chairs; his electron stove; his orderly +rows of pots and pans and dishes on a broad shelf. + +I recall that it seemed to me a woman's hand must be here. But I saw no +woman. No one, indeed, beside Spawn himself seemed to live here. He was +reticent of his own business, however much he wanted to pry into mine. + +I had felt convinced that we were alone. But suddenly I realized it was +not so. The kitchen adjoined an interior back-garden. I could see it +through the opened door oval--a dim space of flowers; a little path to a +pergola; an adobe fountain. It was a sort of Spanish patio out there, +partially enclosed by the wings of the house. Moonlight was struggling +into it. And, as I gazed idly, I thought I saw a figure lurking. Someone +watching us. + + * * * * * + +Was it a boy, observing us from the shadowed moonlit garden? I thought +so. A slight, half grown boy. I saw his figure--in short ragged trousers +and a shirt-blouse--made visible in a patch of moonlight as he moved +away and entered the dark opposite wing of the house. + +I did not see the boy's figure again; and presently I suggested that I +retire. Spawn had already shown me my bedroom. It was in another wing of +the house. It had a window facing the front; and a window and door back +to this same patio. And a door to the house corridor. + +"Sleep well, Meester Grant." My bag was here on the table under an +electrolier. "Shall I call you?" + +"Yes," I said. "Early." + +He lingered a moment. I was opening my bag. I flung it wide under his +gaze. + +"Well, good night. I shall be very comfortable, thanks." + +"Good night," he said. + +He went out the patio door. I watched his figure cross the moonlit path +and enter the kitchen. The noise of his puttering there sounded for a +time. Then the light went out and the house and garden fell into +silence. + +I closed my doors. They sealed on the inside, and I fastened them +securely. Then I fastened the transparent window panes. I did not +undress, but lay on the bed in the dark. I was tired; I realized it now. +But sleep would not come. + +I am no believer in occultism, but there are premonitions which one +cannot deny. It seemed now as I lay there in the dark that I had every +reason to be perturbed, yet I could not think why. Perhaps it was +because I had been lying to this innkeeper stoutly for an hour past, and +whether he believed me or not for the life of me I could not now +determine. + + * * * * * + +I sat up on the bed, presently, and adjusted the wires and diaphragms of +the ether-wave mechanism. When in place it was all concealed under my +shirt. As I switched it on, the electrodes against my flesh tingled a +little. But it was absolutely soundless, and one gets used to the +tingle. I decided to call Hanley. + +The New York wave-sorter handled me promptly, but Hanley's office was +dead. + +As I sat there in the darkness, annoyed at this, a slight noise forced +itself on me. A scratching--a tap--something outside my window. + +Spawn, come back to peer in at me? + +I slipped noiselessly from the bed. The sound had come from the window +which faced the patio. The room, over by the bed, was wholly dark. The +moonlight outside showed the patio window as a dimly illumined oval. + +For a moment I crouched on the floor by the bed. No sound. The silence +of the Lowlands is as heavy and oppressive as its air. I felt as though +my heart were audible. + +I lifted my foot; extracted my dirk. It opened into a very businesslike +steel blade of a good twelve-inch length. I bared the blade. The click +of it leaving the flat, hollow handle sounded loud in the stillness of +the room. + +A moment. Then it seemed that outside my window a shadow had moved. I +crept along the floor. Rose up suddenly at the window. + +And stared at a face peering in at me. A small face, framed by short, +clustering, dark curls. + +A girl! + + + + +CHAPTER III + +_In a Moonlit Garden_ + + +She drew back from the window like a startled fawn; timorous, yet +curious, too, for she ran only a few steps, then turned and stood +peering. The moonlight slanted over the western roof of the building and +fell on her. A slight, boyish figure in short, tattered trousers and a +boy's shirt, open at her slim, rounded throat. The moonlight gleamed on +the white shirt fabric to show it torn and ragged. Her arms were +upraised; her head, with clustering, flying dark curls, was tilted as +though listening for a sound from me. A shy, wild creature. Drawn to my +window; tapping to awaken me, then frightened at what she had done. + +I opened the garden door. She did not move. I thought she would run, but +she did not. The moonlight was on me as I stood there. I was conscious +of its etching me with its silver sheen. And twenty feet from me this +girl stood and gazed, with startled eyes and parted lips--and white +limbs trembling like a frightened animal. + +The patio was very silent. The heavy arching fronds stirred slightly +with a vague night breeze; the moonlight threw a lacy dark pattern of +them on the gray stone path. The fountain bowl gleamed white in the +moonlight behind the girl, and in the silence I could hear the low +splashing of the water. + +A magic moment. Unforgettable. It comes to some of us just once, but to +all of us it comes. I stood with its spell upon me. Then I heard my +voice, tense but softly raised. + +"Who are you?" + +It frightened her. She retreated until the fountain was between us. And +as I took a step forward, she retreated further, noiseless, with her +bare feet treading the smooth stones the path. + + * * * * * + +I ran and caught her at the doorway of the flowered pergola. She stood +trembling as I seized her arms. But the timorous smile remained, and her +eyes, upraised to mine, glowed with misty starlight. + +"Who are you?" + +This time she answered me. "I am called Jetta." + +It seemed that from her white forearm within my grasp a magic current +swept from her to me and back again. We humans, for all our clamoring, +boasting intellectuality, are no more than puppets in Nature's hands. + +"Are you Spawn's daughter?" + +"Yes." + +"I saw you a while ago, when I was having my meal." + +"Yes--I was watching you." + +"I thought you were a boy." + +"Yes. My father told me to keep away. I wanted to meet you, so I came to +wake you up." + +"He may be watching us now." + +"No. He is sleeping. Listen--you can hear him snore." + +I could, indeed. The silence of the garden was broken now by a distant, +choking snore. + +We both laughed. She sat on the little mossy seat in the pergola doorway +And on the side away from the snore. (I had the wit to be sure of that.) + +"I wanted to meet you," she repeated. "Was it too bold?" + + * * * * * + +I think that what we said sitting there with the slanting moonlight on +us, could not have amounted to much. Yet for us, it was so important! +Vital. Building memories which I knew--and I think that she knew, even +then--we would never forget. + +"I will be here a week, Jetta." + +"I want--I want very much to know you. I want you to tell me about the +world of the Highlands. I have a few books. I can't read very well, but +I can look at the pictures." + +"Oh, I see--" + +"A traveler gave them to me. I've got them hidden. But he was an old +man: all men seem to be old--except those in the pictures, and you, +Philip." + +I laughed. "Well, that's too bad. I'm mighty glad I'm young." + +Ah, in that moment, with blessed youth surging in my veins, I was glad +indeed! + +"Young. I don't remember ever seeing anyone like you. The man I am to +marry is not like you. He is old, like father--" + +I drew back from her, startled. + +"Marry?" + +"Yes. When I am seventeen. The law of Nareda--your Highland law, too, +father says--will not let a girl be married until she is that age. In a +month I am seventeen." + +"Oh!" And I stammered, "But why are you going to marry?" + +"Because father tells me to. And then I shall have fine clothes: it is +promised me. And go to live in the Highlands, perhaps. And see things; +and be a woman, not a ragged boy forbidden to show myself; and--" + + * * * * * + +I was barely touching her. It seemed as though something--some vision of +happiness which had been given me--were fading, were being snatched +away. I was conscious of my hand moving to touch hers. + +"Why do you marry--unless you're in love? Are you?" + +Her gaze like a child came up to meet mine. "I never thought much about +that. I have tried not to. It frightened me--until to-night." + +She pushed me gently away. "Don't. Let's not talk of him. I'd rather +not." + +"But why are you dressed as a boy?" + +I gazed at her slim but rounded figure in tattered boy's garb--but the +woman's lines were unmistakable. And her face, with clustering curls. +Gentle girlhood. A face of dark, wild beauty. + +"My father hates women. He says they are all bad. It is a sin to wear +woman's finery; or it breeds sin in women. Let's not talk of that. +Philip, tell me--oh, if you could only realize all the things I want to +know. In Great New York, there are theatres and music?" + +"Yes," I said. And began telling her about them. + +The witching of this moonlit garden! But the moon had presently sunk, +and to the east the stars were fading. + +"Philip! Look! Why, it's dawn already. I've got to leave you." + +I held her just a moment by the hand. + +"May I meet you here to-morrow night?" I asked. + +"Yes," she said simply. + +"Good night--Jetta." + +"Good night. You--you've made me very happy." + +She was gone, into a doorway of the opposite wing. The silent, empty +garden sounded with the distant, reassuring snores of the still sleeping +Spawn. + +I went back to my room and lay on my bed. And drifted off on a sea of +magic memories. The world--my world before this night--now seemed to +have been so drab. Empty. Lifeless. But now there was pulsing, living +magic in it for me. + +I drifted into sleep, thinking of it. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +_The Mine in the Cauldron Depths_ + + +I was awakened by the tinkling, buzzing call of the radio-diaphragm +beneath my shirt. I had left the call open. + +It was Hanley. I lay down, eyeing my window which now was illumined by +the flat light of dawn. + +Hanley's microscopic voice: + +"Phil? I've just raised President Markes, there in Nareda. I've been a +bit worried about you." + +"I'm all right, Chief." + +"Well, you'd better see President Markes this morning." + +"That was my intention." + +"Tell him frankly what you're after. This smuggling of quicksilver from +Nareda has got to stop. But take it easy, Phil; don't be reckless. +Remember: one little knife thrust and I've lost a good man!" + +I laughed at his anxious tone. That was always Hanley's way. A devil +himself, when he was on a trail, but always worried for fear one of his +men would come to harm. + +"Right enough, Chief. I'll be careful." + +He cut off presently. + +I did not see Jetta that morning. I told Spawn I was hoping to see +President Markes on my petroleum proposition. And at the proper hour I +took myself to the government house. + + * * * * * + +This Lowland village by daylight seemed even more fantastic than +shrouded in the shadows of night. The morning sun had dissipated the +overhead mists. It was hot in the rocky streets under the weird +overhanging vegetation. The settlement was quietly busy with its +tropical activities. There were a few local shops; vehicles with the +Highland domestic animals--horses and oxen--panting in the heat; an +occasional electro-automatic car. + +But there were not many evidences of modernity here. The street and +house tube-lights. A few radio image-finders on the house-tops. An +automatic escalator bringing ore from a nearby mine past the government +checkers to an aero stage for northern transportation. Cultivated fields +in the village outskirts operated with modern machinery. + +But beyond that, it seemed primitive. Two hundred years back. Street +vendors. People in primitive, ragged, tropical garb. Half naked +children. I was stared at curiously. An augmenting group of children +followed me as I went down the street. + +The President admitted me at once. In his airy office, with safeguards +against eavesdropping, I found him at his desk with a bank of modern +instruments before him. + +"Sit down, Grant." + + * * * * * + +He was a heavy-set, flabby man of sixty-odd, this Lowland President. +White hair; and an old-fashioned, rolling white mustache of the sort +lately come into South American fashion. He sat with a glass of iced +drink at his side. His uniform was stiffly white, and ornate with heavy +gold braid, but his neckpiece was wilted with perspiration. + +"Damnable heat, Grant." + +"Yes, Sir President." + +"Have a drink." He swung a tinkling glass before me. "Now then, tell me +what is your trouble. Smuggling, here in Nareda. I don't believe it." +His eyes, incongruously alert with all the rest of him so fat and lazy, +twinkled at me. "We of the Nareda Government watch our quicksilver +production very closely. The government fee is a third." + +I might say that the Nareda government collected a third on all the +mineral and agricultural products of the country, in exchange for the +necessary government concessions. Markes exported this share openly to +the world markets, paying the duty exactly like a private corporation. + +He added, "You think--Hanley thinks--the smuggling is on too large a +scale to be any illicit producer?" + +I nodded. + +"Then," he said, "it must be one of our recognized mines." + +"Hanley thinks it is a recognized mine, falsifying its production +record," I explained. + +"If that is so, I will discover it," he said. He spoke with enthusiasm +and vigor. "For you I shall treat as what you are--the representative +of our most friendly government. The figures of our quicksilver +production I shall lay before you in just a few days. Let me fill up +your glass, Grant." + + * * * * * + +The lazy tropics. I really did not doubt his sincerity. But I did doubt +his ability to cope with any clever criminal. His enthusiasm for action +would wilt like his neckpiece, in Nareda's heat. Unless, perhaps, the +knowledge that the smuggler was cheating him as well as the United +States--_that_ might spur him. + +He added--and now I got a shock wholly unexpected: "If we think that +some recognized producer of quicksilver here is cheating us, it should +not be difficult to check up on it. Nareda has only one large cinnabar +lode being worked. A private individual: that fellow Jacob Spawn--" + +"Spawn?" I exclaimed involuntarily. + +"Why, yes. Did not he mention it? His mine is no more than ten +kilometers from here--back on the southern slope." + +"He didn't mention it," I said. + +"So? That is strange; but he is a secretive Dutchman by nature. He +specializes in prying into the other fellow's affairs. Hm-m." + +He fell into a reverie while I stared at him. Spawn, the big--the only +big--quicksilver producer here! + + * * * * * + +The President interrupted my startled thoughts. "I hope you did not +intimate your real purpose?" + +"No." + +We both turned at the sound of an opening door. Markes called, "Ah, come +in Perona! Are you alone? Good! Close that slide. Here is Chief Hanley's +representative." He introduced us all in a breath. "This is interesting, +Perona. Damnably interesting. We're being cheated, what? It looks that +way. Sit down, Perona." + +This was Greko Perona. Nareda's Minister of Internal Affairs. Spawn had +mentioned him to me. A South American. A man in his fifties. Thin and +darkly saturnine, with iron-gray hair, carefully plastered to cover his +half-bald head. He sat listening to the President's harangue, twirling +the upturned waxen ends of his artificially black mustache. A wave of +perfume enveloped him. A ladies' courtier, this Perona by the look of +him. His white uniform was immaculate, carefully tailored and carefully +worn to set off at its best his still trim and erect figure. + +"Well," he said, when at last the President paused, "of a surety +something must be done." + +Perona seemed not excited, rather more carefully watchful, of his own +words, and of me. His small dark eyes roved me. + +"What is it you would plan to do about it, Senorito?" + +An irony was in that Latin diminutive! He spread his pale hands. "Your +United States officials perhaps exaggerate. I am very doubtful if we +have smugglers here in Nareda." + +"Unless it is Spawn," the President interjected. + + * * * * * + +Perona frowned slightly. But his suave manner remained. "Spawn? Why +Spawn?" + +"You need not take offense, Perona," Markes retorted. "We are discussing +this before an envoy of the United States, sent here to consult with us. +We have nothing to hide." + +Markes turned to me. And his next words were like a bomb exploding at my +feet. + +"Perona _is_ offended, Grant. But I promise you, his natural personal +prejudice will not affect my investigation. Of course he is prejudiced, +since he is to marry Spawn's daughter, the little Jetta." + +I started involuntarily. This pomaded old dotard! This perfumed, ancient +dandy! + +For all the importance of my mission in Nareda my thoughts had been +subconsciously more upon Jetta--far more--than upon smugglers of +quicksilver. This palsied popinjay! This, the reality of the specter +which had been between Jetta and me during all that magic time in the +moonlit garden! + +This suave old rake! Betrothed to that woodland pixie whose hand I had +held and to whom I had sung love songs in the magic flower-scented +moonlight only a few hours ago! And whom I had promised to meet there +again to-night! + +This, then, was my rival! + + * * * * * + +Nothing of importance transpired during the remainder of that interview. +Markes reiterated his intention of making a complete governmental +investigation at once. To which Perona suavely assented. + +"_Por Dios Senorito_," he said to me, "we would not have your great +government annoyed at Nareda. If there are smugglers, we will capture +them of a certainty." + +From the Government House, it now being almost time for the midday meal, +I returned to Spawn's. + +The rambling mud walls of the Inn stood baking in the noonday heat when +I arrived. The outer garden drowsed; there seemed no one about. I went +through the main door oval into the front public room, where first I had +met Spawn. He was not here now, nor was Jetta. + +A sudden furtiveness fell upon me. With noiseless steps I went the +length of the dim, padded interior corridor to my own room. My +belongings seemed undisturbed; a vague idea that Spawn might have seized +this opportunity to ransack them had come to me. But it seemed not; +though if he had he would have found nothing. + +I stood for a moment listening at my patio window. I could see the +kitchen from here; there was no one in it. I started back for the living +room. That furtive instinct was still on me. I made no noise. And +abruptly I heard Spawn's voice, floating out softly in the hushed +silence of the house. + +"So, Perona?" + + * * * * * + +A brief silence, in which it seemed that I could hear a tiny aerial +answer. Then Spawn again. A startled oath. + +"De duvel! You say--" + +I stood frozen, listening. + +"She is here.... Yes, I will keep her close. I am no fool, Perona." + +Spawn's laugh was like a growl. "Later to-day, yes. Fear not! I am no +fool. I will be careful of it." + +Spawn, talking by private audiphone, to Perona. The colloquy came to an +abrupt end. + +"... Might eavesdrop? By hell, you are right!" + +I heard the click as Spawn and Perona broke connection. Spawn came from +his room. But he was not quick enough. I slipped away before he saw me. +In the living room I had time to be calmly seated with a lighted +cigarette. His approaching heavy footsteps sounded. He came in. + +"Oh--Grant." + +"Good noon, friend Spawn. I'm hungry." I grinned at him. "I understand +my bargain with you included a noonday meal. Does it?" + +He eyed me suspiciously. "Have you been waiting here long?" + +"No. I just came in." + +He led me to the kitchen. He apologized for the informality of his hotel +service: visitors were so infrequent. But the good quality of his food +would make up for it. + +"Right," I agreed. "Your food is marvelous, friend Spawn." + + * * * * * + +There was a difference in Spawn's manner toward me now. He seemed far +more wary. Outwardly he was in a high good humor. He asked nothing +concerning my morning at the Government House. He puttered over his +electron-stove, making me help him; he cursed the heat; he said one +could not eat in such heat as this; but the meal he cooked, and the way +he sat down opposite me and attacked it, belied him. + +He was acting; but so was I. And perhaps I deceived him as little as he +deceived me. We avoided the things which were uppermost in the thoughts +of us both. But, when we had very nearly finished the meal, I decided to +try him out. I said suddenly, out of a silence: + +"Spawn, why didn't you tell me you were a producer of quicksilver?" I +shot him a sharp glance. "You are, aren't you?" + +It took him by surprise, but he recovered himself instantly. "Yes. Are +you interested?" + +I tried another shot. "What surprised me was that a wealthy mine +owner--you are, aren't you?--should bother to keep an unprofitable +hotel. Why bother with it, Spawn?" + +I thought I knew the answer: he wanted Nareda's visitors under his eyes. + +"That is a pleasure." There was irony in his tone. "I am a lonesome man. +I like--interesting companionship, such as yours, young Grant." + +It was on my tongue to hint at his daughter. But I thought better of it. + +"I am going to the mine now," he said abruptly. "Would you like to +come?" + +"Yes," I smiled. "Thanks." + + * * * * * + +I wanted to see his mine. But that he should be eager to show it, +surprised me. I wondered what purpose he could have in that. I had a +hint of it later; for when we took his little autocar and slid up the +winding road into the bloated crags towering on the slope behind Nareda, +he told me calmly: + +"I shall have to put you in charge of my mine commander. I am busy +elsewhere this afternoon. You will see the mine just as well without +me." + +He added. "I must go to the Government House: President Markes wants a +report on my recent production." + +So that was what Perona had told him over the audiphone just before our +noonday meal? + +It was an inferno of shadows and glaring lights, this underground +cavern. As modern mining activities go, it was small and primitive. No +more than a dozen men were here, beside the sweating pudgy mine +commander who was my guide. A voluble fellow; of what original +nationality I could not determine. + +We stood watching the line of carts dumping the ore onto the endless +lifting-belt. It went a hundred feet or so up and out of the cavern's +ascending shaft, to fall with a clatter into the bins above the smelter. + +"Rich ore," I said. "Isn't it?" + +The cinnabar ran like thick blood-red veins in the rock. + +"Rich," said the mine commander. "That it is. Rich. But who does it make +rich? Only Spawn, not me." He waved his arms, airing his grievance with +which for an hour past he had regaled me. "Only Spawn. For me, a dole +each week." + +The smelter was in a stone building--one of a small group of mine houses +which stood in a cauldron depression above excavations. Rounded domes of +rock towered above them. The sun, even at this tri-noon hour, was gone +behind the heights above us. The murky shadows of night were gathering, +the mists of the Lowlands settling. The tube-lights of the mine, strung +between small metal poles, winked on like bleary eyes. + +"Of a day soon I will fling this job to hell--" + + * * * * * + +I was paying scant attention to the fellow's tirade. Could there be +smuggling going on from this mine? It all seemed to be conducted openly +enough. If the production record were being falsified I felt that this +dissatisfied mine commander was not aware of it. He showed me the +smelter, where the quicksilver condensed in the coils and ran with its +small luminous silver streams into the vats. + +He was called away momentarily by one of his men, leaving me standing +there. I was alone; no one seemed in sight, or within hearing. In the +shadow of the condensers I drew out my transmitter and called Hanley. + +I got him within a minute. + +"Chief!" + +"Yes, Phil. I hoped you'd call me. Didn't want to chance it, raising you +when you might not be alone." + +I told him swiftly what I had done; where I was now. + +And Hanley said, with equal briskness: "I've an important fact. Just had +Markes on secret wave-length. He tells me that Spawn has been saving up +his quicksilver for six months past. He's got several hundred thousand +dollar-standards' worth of it in ingots there right now." + +"Here at the mine?" + +"Yes. Got them all radiuminized, ready for the highest priced markets. +Markes says he is scheduled to turn them over to the government checkers +to-morrow. The Nareda government takes its share to-morrow; then Spawn +exports the rest." + +I heard a footstep. "Off, Chief! I'll call you later!" + +I clicked off summarily. The little grid was under my shirt when the +mine commander rejoined me. + + * * * * * + +For another half hour or to I hovered about the smelter house. A +treasure of quicksilver ingots here? I mentioned it casually to my +companion. He shot me a sharp glance. + +"Spawn has told you that?" + +"I heard it." + +"His business. We do not talk of that. Never can I tell what Spawn will +choose to take offense at." + +We rambled upon other subjects. Later, he said, "We work not at night. +But Spawn, he is here often at night, with his friend, the Senor +Perona." + +That caught my attention. "I met Perona this morning," I said quickly. +"Is he a partner of Spawn's?" + +"If he is so, I never was told it. But much he is here--at night." + +"Why at night?" + +The fellow really knew nothing. Or if he did, he was diplomatic enough +not to jeopardize his post by babbling of it to me. He said: + +"Perona is Spawn's friend. Why not? His daughter to marry: that will +make him a son-in-law." He laughed. "An old fool, but not such a fool +either. Spawn is rich." + +"His daughter. Has he a daughter?" + +"The little Jetta. You haven't seen her? Well, that is not strange. +Spawn keeps her very hidden. A mystery about it: all Nareda talks, but +no one knows; and Spawn does not like questions." + +Spawn abruptly joined us! He came from the black shadows of the lurid +smelter room. Had he heard us discussing Jetta? I wondered. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +_Mysterious Meeting_ + + +"Ah, Grant--have you enjoyed yourself?" He dismissed his subordinate. "I +was detained. Sorry." + +He was smoothly imperturbable. "Have you seen everything? Quite a little +plant I have here? We shut down early to-day. I will make ready to +close." + +I followed him about while he arranged for the termination of the day's +activities. The clatter of the smelter house was presently still; the +men departing. Spawn and I were the last to leave, save for the eight +men who were the mine's night guards. They were stalwart, silent +fellows, armed with electronic needle projectors. + +The lights of the mine went low until they were mere pencil points of +blue illumination in the gloom. The eery look of the place was +intensified by the darkness and silence of the abnormally early +nightfall. The fantastic crags stood dark with formless shadow. + +Spawn stopped to speak to one of the guards. The men wore a +gold-trimmed, but now dirty, white linen uniform, wilted by the +heat--the uniform of Nareda's police. I remarked it to him. + +"The government lent me the men," Spawn explained. "Of an ordinary time +I have only one guard." + +"But this then, is not an ordinary time?" I hinted. + +He looked at me sharply. And upon sudden impulse, I added: + +"President Markes said something about you having a treasure here. +Radiumized quicksilver." + +It was evidently Spawn's desire to appear thoroughly frank with me. He +laughed. "Well, then, if Markes has told you, then might I not as well +admit it? The treasure is here, indeed yes. Will you like to see it?" + + * * * * * + +He led me into a little strong room adjoining the smelter +coil-rectifiers. He flashed his hand searchlight. On the floor, piled +crosswise, were small moulded bars of refined quicksilver--dull, +darkened silver ingots of this world's most precious metal. + +"Quite a treasure, Grant, here to-night. See, it is radiumized." + +He snapped off his torch. In the darkness the little bars glowed +irridescent. + +"To-morrow I will divide with our Nareda government. One-third for them. +And my own share I will export: to Great New York, this shipment. +Already I have the order for it." + +He added calmly, "The duty is high, Grant. Too bad your big New York +market is protected by so large a duty. With my cost of +production--these accursed Lowland workmen who demand so much for their +labor, and a third of all I produce taken by Nareda--there is not much +in it for me." + +He had re-lighted the room. I could feel his eyes on me, but I said +nothing. It was obvious to me now that he knew I was a government +customs agent. + +I said, "This certainly interests me, friend Spawn. I'll tell you why +some other time." + +We exchanged significant glances, both of us smiling. + +"Well can I guess it, young Grant. So here is my treasure. Without the +duty I would soon be wealthy. Chut! Why should I roll in a pity for +myself? There is a duty and I am an honest man, so I pay it." + +I said, "Aren't you afraid to leave this stored here?" I knew that this +pile of ingots--the quicksilver in its radiumized form--was worth four +or five hundred thousand dollars in American gold-coin at the very +least. + + * * * * * + +Spawn shrugged. "Who would attack it? But of course I will be glad to be +rid of it. It is a great responsibility--even though it carries +international insurance, to protect my and the Nareda Government share." + +He was sealing up the heavy barred portals of the little strong-room. +There was an alarm-detector, connected with the office of Nareda's +police commander. Spawn set the alarm carefully. + +"I have every safeguard, Grant. There is really no danger." He added, as +though with sudden thought. "Except possibly one--a depth bandit named +De Boer. Ever you have heard of him?" + +"Yes. I have." + +We climbed into Spawn's small automatic vehicle. The lights of the mine +faded behind us as we coasted the winding road down to the village. + +"De Boer," said Spawn. "A fellow who lives by his wits in the depths. +Near here, perhaps: who knows? They say he has many followers--fifty--a +hundred, perhaps--outlaws: a cut-belly band it must be." + +"Didn't he once take a hand in Nareda's politics?" I suggested. + +Spawn guffawed. "That is so. He was once what they called a patriot +here. He thought he might be made President. But Markes ran him out. Now +he is a bandit. I have believe that American mail-ship which sank last +year in the cauldron north of the Nares Sea--you remember how it was +attacked by bandits?--I have always believe that was De Boer's band." + + * * * * * + +We rolled back to Nareda. Spawn's manner had again changed. He seemed +even more friendly than before. More at his ease with me. We had supper, +and smoked together in his living room for half an hour afterward. But +my thoughts were more on Jetta than on her father. There was still no +evidence of her about the premises. Ah, if I only had known what had +taken place there at Spawn's that afternoon while I was at the mine! + +Soon after supper Spawn yawned. "I think I shall go to bed." His glance +was inquiring. "What are you going to do?" + +I stood up. "I'll go to bed, too. Markes wants to see me early in the +morning. You'll be there, Spawn?" + +"Yes. We will go together." + +It was still no more than eight o'clock in the evening. Spawn followed +me to my bedroom, and left me at its door. + +"Sleep well. I will call you in time." + +"Thanks, Spawn." + +I wondered if there were irony in his voice as he said good night. No +one could have told. + + * * * * * + +I did not go to bed. I sat listening to the silence of my room and the +garden, and Spawn's retreating footsteps. He had said he was sleepy, but +nevertheless I presently heard him across the patio. He was apparently +in the kitchen, cleaning away our meal, to judge by the rattling of his +pans. It was as yet not much after hour eight of the evening. The hours +before my tryst with Jetta seemed an interminable time to wait. She +might not come, though, I was afraid, until midnight. + +At all events I felt that I had some hours yet. And it occurred to me +that the evening was not yet too far advanced for me to call upon +Perona. He lived not far from here, I had learned. I wanted to see this +beribboned old Minister of Nareda's Internal Affairs. + +I would use as my excuse a desire to discuss further the possibility of +smuggler being here in Nareda. + +I put on my hat and a light jacket, verified that my dirk was readily +accessible and sealed up my room. Spawn apparently was still in the +kitchen. I got out of the house, I felt sure, without him being aware of +it. + + * * * * * + +The Nareda streets were quiet. There was a few pedestrians, and none of +them paid much attention to me. It was no more than ten minutes walk to +Perona's home. + +His house was set back from the road, surrounded by luxurious +vegetation. There was a gate in front of the garden, and another, a +hundred feet or to along a small alleyway which bordered the ground to +my left. I was about to enter the front gate when sight of a figure +passing under the garden foliage checked me. It was a man, evidently +coming from the house and headed toward the side gate. He went through a +shaft of light that slanted from one of the lower windows of the house. + +Perona! I was sure it was he. His slight figure, with a gay, +tri-cornered hat. A short tasseled cloak hanging from his shoulders. He +was alone; walking fast. He evidently had not seen me. I crouched +outside the high front wall, and through its lattice bars I saw him +reach the side gate, open it swiftly, pass through, and close it after +him. There was something furtive about his manner, for all he was +undisguised. I decided to follow him. + +The front street fortunately was deserted at the moment. I waited long +enough for him to appear. But he did not; and when I ran to the alley +corner--chancing bumping squarely into him--I saw him far down its dim, +narrow length where it opened into the back street which bordered his +grounds to the rear. He turned to the left and shot a swift glance up +the alley, which I anticipated, provided for by drawing back. When I +looked again, he was gone. + + * * * * * + +I have had some experience at playing the shadow. But it was not easy +here along the almost deserted and fairly bright Nareda streets. Perona +was walking swiftly down the slope toward the outskirts of the village +where it bordered upon the Nares Sea. For a time I thought he was headed +for the landing field, but at a cross-path he turned sharply to the +right, away from the field, whose sheen of lights I could now see down +the rocky defile ahead of me. There was nothing but broken, precipitous +rocky country ahead of him, into which this path he had taken was +winding. What could Perona, a Minister, be engaged in, wandering off +alone into this black, deserted region? + +It was black indeed, by now. The village was soon far behind us. A storm +was in the night air; a wind off the sea; solid black clouds overhead +blotted out the moon and stars. The crags and buttes and gullies of this +tumbled area loomed barely visible about me. There were times when only +my feel of the path under my feet kept me from straying, to fall into a +ravine or crevice. + +I prowled perhaps two hundred yards behind Perona. He was using a tiny +hand-flash now; it bobbed and winked in the darkness ahead, vanishing +sometimes when a curve in the path hid him, or when he plunged down into +a gully and up again. I had no search-beam. Nor would I have dared use +one: Perona could too obviously have seen that someone was following +him. + +There was half a mile of this, I think, though it seemed interminable. I +could hear the sea, rising with the wind, pounding against the rocks to +my left. Then, a distance ahead, I saw lights moving. Perona's--and +others. Three or four of them. Their combined glow made a radiance which +illumined the path and rocks. I could see the figures of several men +whom Perona had joined. They stood a moment and then moved off. To the +right a ragged cliff wall towered the path. The spots of light bobbed +toward it. I caught the vague outline of a huge broken opening, like a +cave mouth in the cliff. The lights were swallowed by it. + +I crept cautiously forward. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +_Ether-wave Eavesdropping_ + + +I had thought it was a cavern mouth into which the men had disappeared, +but it was not. I reached it without any encounter. It loomed above me, +a great archway in the cliff--an opening fifty feet high and equally as +broad. And behind it was a roofless cave--a sort of irregularly circular +bowl, five hundred feet across its broken, bowlder-strewn, caked-ooze +floor. + +I crouched in the blackness under the archway. The moon had risen and +its light filtered with occasional shafts through the swift-flying black +clouds overhead. The scene was brighter. It was dark in the archway, but +a glow of moonlight in the bowl beyond showed me its tumbled floor and +the precipitous, eroded walls, like a crater-rim, which encircled it. + +The men whom Perona had met were across the bowl near its opposite side. +I could see the group of them, five hundred feet from me, by a little +moonlight that was on them; also by the sheen from the spots of their +hand-lights. Four or five men, and Perona. I thought I distinguished the +aged Minister sitting on a rock, and before him a huge giant man's +figure striding up and down. Perona seemed talking vehemently: the men +were listening; the giant paused occasionally in his pacing to fling a +question. + +All this I saw with my first swift glance. My attention was drawn from +the men to an object near them. The nose of a flyer showed between two +upstanding crags on the floor of the valley. Only its forward horizontal +propellers and the tip of its cabin and landing gear were visible, but I +could guess that it was a fair-sized ship. + +The men were too far away for me to hear them. Could I get across the +floor of the bowl without discovery? It did not seem so. The accursed +moonlight became stronger every moment. Then I saw a guard--a dark +figure of a man showing just inside the archway, some seventy feet from +me. He was leaning against a rock, facing my way. In his hands was a +thick-barreled electronic projector. + +I could not advance: that was obvious. The moonlight lay in a clear +clean patch beyond the archway. The guard stood at its edge. + + * * * * * + +A minute or two had passed. Perona was still talking vehemently. I was +losing it: not a word was audible. Yet I felt that if I could hear +Perona now, much that Hanley and I wanted to learn would be made clear +to us. My little microphone receiver could be adjusted for audible air +vibrations. I crouched and held it cautiously above my head with its +face, like a listening ear, turned toward the distant men. My +single-vacuum amplification brought up the sound until their voices +sounded like whispers murmured in my ear-grids. + +"De Boer, listen to me--" + +Perona's voice. They must have been chance words spoken loudly. It was +all I could hear, save tantalizing, unintelligible murmurs. + +So this was De Boer, the bandit! The big fellow pacing before Perona. I +wanted infinitely more, now, to hear what was being said. + +I thought of Hanley. There might be a way of handling this. + +I had to murmur very softly. I was hidden in these shadows from the +guard's sight, but he was close enough to hear my normal voice. I +chanced it. A wind was sucking through the archway with an audible +whine: the guard might not hear me. + +"X. 2. AY." + +The sorter's desk. He came in. I murmured Hanley's rating. "Rush. +Danger. Special." + +It went swiftly through. Hanley, thank Heaven, was at his desk. + + * * * * * + +I plugged in my little image finder; held it over my head; turned it +slowly. I whispered: + +"Look around, Chief. See where I am? Near Nareda; couple of miles out. +Followed Perona; he met these men. + +"The big one is De Boer, the depth bandit. I can't hear what they're +saying--but I can send you their voice murmurs." + +"Amplify them all you can. Relay them up," Hanley ordered. + +I caught Perona's murmurs again; I swung them through my tiny +transformers and off my transmitter points into the ether. + +"Hear them, Chief?" + +"Yes. I'll try further amplification." + +It was what I had intended. Hanley's greater power might be able to +amplify those murmurs into audible strength. + +"I'm getting them, Phil." + +He swung them back to me. Grotesquely distorted, blurred with tube-hum +and interference crackle, they roared in my ear-grids so loudly that I +saw the nearby guard turn his head as though startled. Listening.... + +But evidently he concluded it was nothing. + +I cut down the volume. Hanley switched in. + +"By God. Phil! This--" + +"Off, Chief! Let me hear, too!" + + * * * * * + +He cut away. Those distorted voices! They came from Perona and the +bandits to me across this five hundred foot moonlit bowl; from me, +thirteen hundred miles up to Hanley's instruments; and back to me once +more. But the words, most of them, now were distinguishable. + +Perona's voice: "I tell it to you. De Boer ... and a good chance for you +to make the money." + +"But will they pay?" + +"Of course they will pay. Big. A ransom princely." + +"And why, Perona? Why princely? Who is this fellow--so important?" + +"He is with rich business men, I tell to you." + +"A private citizen?" + +"... And a private citizen, of a surety. Fool! Have you come to be a +coward, De Boer?" + +"Pah!" + +"Well then I tell you it is a lifetime chance. All of it I have +arranged. If he was a government agent, that would be very different, +for they are very keen, this administration of the American government, +to protect their agents. But their private citizens--it is a scandal! Do +you not ever pick the newscasters' reports, De Boer? Has it not been a +scandal that this administration does very little for its citizens +abroad?" + +"And you want to get rid of this fellow? Why, Perona?" + +"That is not your concern. The ransom is to be all yours. Make away with +him--in the depths somewhere. Demand your ransom. Fifty thousand +gold-standards! Demand it of me. Of Nareda!" + +"And you will pay it?" + +"I promise it. Nareda will pay it--and Nareda will collect the ransom +from the American capitalists. Very easy." + +His voice fell lower. "Between us, you will get the ransom money from +Nareda--and then kill your prisoner if you like. Call it an accident; +what matter? And dead men are silent men, De Boer. I will see that no +real pursuit is made after you." + + * * * * * + +They were talking about me! It was obvious. Questions rushed at me. +Perona, planning with this bandit to abduct me. Hold me for ransom. Or +kill me! But Perona knew that I was not a private citizen. He was lying +to De Boer, to persuade him. + +Why this attack upon me? Was Spawn in on it? Why were they so anxious to +get rid of me? Because of Jetta? Or because I was dangerous, prying +into their smuggling activities. Or both? + +De Boer: "... Get up with my men through the streets to Spawn's house? +You have it fixed?" + +"Yes. Over the route from here as I told you, there are no police +to-night. I have ordered them off. In the garden. _Dios!_ You offer so +many objections! I tell you all is fixed. In an hour, half an hour; even +now, perhaps, the Americano is in the garden. The girl has promised to +meet him there. He will be there, fear not. Will you go?" + +"Yes." + +"Hah! That is the De Boer I have always admired!" + +I could see them in the moonlight across the pit. Perona now standing +up, the giant figure of the bandit towering over him. + + * * * * * + +Hanley's microscopic voice cut in: "Getting it, Phil? To seize you for +ransom!" + +"Yes. I hear it." + +"This girl. Who--?" + +"Wait, Chief. Off--" + +De Boer: "I will do it! Fifty thousand." + +Perona: "An hour now. Spawn will be at his home asleep." + +"And you will go to the mine?" + +"Yes. Now, from here. You seize this fellow Grant, and then attack the +mine. Our regular plan, De Boer. This does not change it." + +Attack Spawn's mine! Half a million of treasure was there to-night! + +Perona was chuckling: "You give Spawn's guards the signal. They are all +my men--in my pay. They will run away when you appear." + +Hanley cut in again. "By the gods, they're after that treasure! Phil, +listen to me! you must...." His voice faded. + +"Chief, I can't hear you!" + +Hanley came again: "... And I will notify Porto Rico. The local patrol +will be about ready to leave." + +"Or notify Nareda headquarters," I suggested. "If you can get President +Markes, he can send some police to the mine--" + +"And find all Nareda's police bribed by Perona? I'll get Porto Rico. We +have an hour or two; the patrol can reach you in an hour." + +The bandits were preparing to leave here. Two or three of them had gone +to the flyer. Perona and De Boer were parting. + +"... Well, that is all, De Boer." + +"Right, Senor Perona. I will start shortly." + +"On foot, by the street route to Spawn's--" + +Hanley's hurried voice came back: "I've sent the call to Porto Rico." + + * * * * * + +The guard had moved again. He was no more than forty feet away from me +now--standing up gazing directly toward where I was crouching over my +tiny instruments in the shadows of the rocky arch. A footstep sounded +behind me, on the path outside the arch. Someone approaching! + +A tiny light bobbing! + +Then a voice calling, "Perona! De Boer!" + +The guard took a step forward; stopped, with levelled weapon. + +Then the voice again: it was so loud it went through my opened relay, +flashed up to New York, and blew out half a dozen of Hanley's attuned +vacuums. + +"Perona!" + +Spawn's voice! He was coming toward me! I lay prone, my little grids +switched off. I held my breath. + +Spawn's figure went past within ten feet of me. But he did not see me. + +He met the guard. "Hello, Gutierrez. The damned American--" + +Perona and De Boer came hastening. Spawn joined them in the moonlight +just beyond the archway, close enough for me to hear them plainly. Spawn +was out of breath, panting from his swift walk. He greeted them with a +roar. + +"The American--he is gone!" + +"_Dios!_ Gone where, Spawn?" + +"The hell--how do I know, Perona? He is gone from his room--from the +house. Maybe he followed you here? Did he?" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +_Behind the Sealed Door_ + + +There was a moment when I think I might have escaped unseen from that +archway. But I was too amazed at Spawn's appearance to think of my own +situation. I had believed that Perona was plotting against Spawn, +meeting these bandits in this secret place; I had just heard them +planning to attack Spawn's mine--to rob it of the treasure doubtless, +which I knew was stored there. + +But I realized now it was not a plot against Spawn. He had come here +swiftly to join Perona and tell him that I, their intended victim, was +missing. He had greeted the bandit guard by name. He seemed, indeed, as +well known to these bandits as Perona himself. + +They stood now in a group some thirty feet away from me. I could hear +their excited voices perfectly clearly. My instruments were off; but I +recall that as I listened to Spawn I was also aware of the tingle of the +electrode-band on my chest--Hanley, vigorously calling me back to find +out why I had so summarily disconnected. + +"I took him to his room," Spawn was explaining excitedly. "De duvel, why +should I have sealed him in? How could I? He is no child!" + +De Boer laughed caustically. "And so he has walked away from you? I +think I am a fool to mix myself with you two." + +Perona retorted, "I have made you rich, De Boer. Think what you like; +to-night is the end of our partnership. Only, you do what I have told +you to-night." + +"Hah! How can I? Your American has flown his trap." + +This guard--this Gutierrez, as Spawn had called him--was listening with +interest. De Boer's several other men were gathered there. I felt +myself safe where I was, for the moment at least. + + * * * * * + +I cut Hanley in. "Chief, they're closer! Spawn has come! They've missed +me! I'll relay what they're saying, but you step it down; there's too +much volume." + +"You're all right, Phil? Thank Heaven for that! Something blew my +vacuums." + +"Chief, listen--here they are--" + +Perona: "But he will be back. In the garden now, no doubt, with Jetta." + +De Boer: "Ah--the little Jetta! So she is there, Spawn? Not in years +have you spoken of your daughter. A young lady now, I suppose. Is it +so?" + +Spawn cursed. "We leave her out of this. You follow the Senor's plan." + +"Come to your house? You think the bird will be there for me to seize?" + +"Yes," Perona put in. "You go there; in an hour. Then to the mine." + +Spawn undoubtedly was in this plot to attack his mine! He said, "At the +mine we have arranged everything. Damn this American! But for Perona I +would not bother with him." + +"But you will bother," Perona interjected. + +De Boer laughed again. "I would be witless could I not figure this! He +is a young man, and so handsome he has frightened you with the little +Jetta! Is that it, Perona? Jealous, eh?" + +I had been holding the image finder so that Hanley might see them. +Hanley's voice rattled my ear-grid. "Phil! Get away from there! Look! De +Boer is searching!" + + * * * * * + +De Boer had, a moment before, spoken quietly aside to Gutierrez. And now +three or four of the men were spreading out, poking about with small +hand-flashes. Searching for me! The possibility that I might be here, +eavesdropping! + +Hanley repeated vehemently, "Phil, they'll find you! Get out of there: +the way is still open!" + +Gutierrez was approaching the archway. But I lingered a moment longer. + +"Chief, you heard about that girl, Jetta, Spawn's daughter--" + +I stopped. Perona was saying, "Spawn, was Jetta still in her room? You +did not untie her?" + +"No." + +"And gagged? Suppose the Americano was back there now? She might call to +him, and he would release her--" + +De Boer: "How do you know he is not around here? Listening?" + +With the assumption that I might be within hearing, De Boer tried to +trap me. Gutierrez, at a signal now, suddenly dashed through the archway +and planted himself on the path outside. The other searchers spread +their rays; the rocks all about me were lighted. But my niche was still +untouched. + +De Boer: "If he is around here--" + +Perona: "He could not have followed me; I was too careful." + +I was murmuring: "Chief, they've got that girl." + +"Phil, you get away! Go to Markes. Stay with him." + +"But Chief, that Jetta, I--" + +"Keep out of this! You're only one; you can't help any! I've sent for +the Porto Rican patrol ship to handle this." + +"Chief, I'm going back to Spawn's." + +"No--" + +I cut off abruptly. In another moment I would have been discovered. The +searchers were headed directly for me. + + * * * * * + +I moved, crouching, back along the inner wall of the archway. The moon +was momentarily behind a cloud. It was black under the arch; and out +front it was so dim I could only see the faint blob of Gutierrez's +standing figure, and the spot of his flashlight. + +Perona: "He is not around here, De Boer. That is foolish." + +Spawn: "He could have gone anywhere. Maybe a walk around the village." + +Perona: "Go back home, Spawn. De Boer will come--" + +Their voices faded as I moved away. A searching bandit behind me poked +with his light into the crevice where a moment before I had been +crouching. I moved faster. Only Gutierrez now was in front of me. He was +at the far end of the arch. I could slip past, and still be fifty feet +from him--if I could avoid his swinging little light-beam. + +I was running now, chancing that he would hear me. I was on the path; I +could see it vaguely. + +From behind me came a sizzling flash, and the ting of the flying needle +as it missed me by a foot. + +"The Americano! He goes there!" + +Another shot. The shouts of the bandits in the archway. A turmoil back +there. + +But it was all behind me. I leaped sidewise off the path as Gutierrez +small light-beam swept it. I ran stumbling through a stubble of +boulders, around an upstanding rock spire, back to the path again. + +There were other shots. Then De Boer's voice, faint by distance: "Stop! +Fools! We will alarm the village! The landing field can see our shots +from here! Take it easy! You can't get him!" + +The turmoil quieted. I went around a bend in the path, running swiftly. + +Pursuit was behind me. I could hear them coming. + + * * * * * + +It was a run of no more than ten minutes to the junction where, down the +slope, I could see the lights of the landing field. + +The glow of the village was ahead of me. Then I was in its outskirts. +Occasional dark houses. Deserted streets. + +I slowed to a fast walk. I was breathless, panting in the heat. + +I heard no pursuit now. But Spawn and the rest of them doubtless were +after me. Would they head back for Spawn's inn? I thought they would. +But I could beat them back there; I was sure there was no shorter route +than this I was taking. + +Would they use their flyer? That would not gain them any time, what +with launching it and landing, for so short a flight. And a bandit flyer +could not very well land unseen or unnoticed, even in somnolent Nareda. + +I reached the main section of the village. There were occasional lights +and pedestrians. My haste was noticeable, but I was not accosted. There +seemed no police about. I recalled Perona's remark that he had attended +to that. + +My electrode was tingling. I had been running again. I slowed down. + +"Chief?" + +"Phil." His voice carried relief. "You got away?" + +"Yes. I'm in the village." + +"Go to President Markes." + +"No, I'm headed for Spawn's! They're all behind me; I can get there a +few minutes ahead of them." + + * * * * * + +I panted an exclamation, incoherently, but frankly, about Jetta. "I'm +going to get her out of there." + +"Phil, what in hell--" + +I told him. + +"So you've fallen in love with a girl? Entangled--" + +"Chief!" + +"Go after her, Phil! Got her bound and gagged, have they? Going to marry +her to this Perona? Like the Middle Ages?" + +I had never seen this side of Hanley. + +"Get her if you want her. Get her out of there. Take her to Markes--No, +I wouldn't trust anybody in Nareda! Take her into the uplands behind the +village. But keep away from that mine! Have you got flash-fuses?" + +"Yes." + +I was within sight of Spawn's house. The street was dim and deserted. I +was running again. + +I panted. "I'm--almost at Spawn's!" + +"Good! When it's over, whatever happens up there at the mine, then +signal the patrol." + +"Yes." + +I reached Spawn's front gate. The house and front garden were dark. + +"Use your fuses, Phil. What colors?" + +"I have red and blue." + +"I'll talk to the patrol ship again. Tell them to watch for you. Red and +blue. Two short red flashes, a long blue." + +"Right, Chief. I'm here at Spawn's, cutting off." + +"Come back on when you can." His voice went anxious again. "I'll wait +here." + +"All right." + +I cut silent. I ran through the front doorway of Spawn's inn. The living +room was dim and empty. Which way was Jetta's room? I could only guess. + +I had a few minutes, perhaps, before my pursuers would arrive. + + * * * * * + +I reached the inner, patio garden. The moon was well out from under the +clouds now. The patio shimmered, a silent, deserted fairyland. + +"Jetta!" I called it softly. Then louder. "Jetta!" + +Spawn's house was fairly large and rambling. There were so many rooms. +Jetta was gagged; how could she answer me? But I had no time to search +for her. + +"Jetta?" + +And then came her voice. "Philip?" + +"Jetta! Which way? Where are you?" + +"Here! This way: in my room." + +A window and a door near the pergola. "Jetta!" + +"Yes. I am in here. They tied me up. Not so loud, Phil: father will hear +you." + +"He's gone out." + +I reached her garden door. Turned its handle. Rattled the door. Shoved +frantically with my shoulder! + +The metal door was firmly sealed! + +_(To be continued)_ + + + + +[Illustration: _One of the men rolled free and came lurching toward +us._] + +The Terrible Tentacles of L-472 + +_By Sewell Peaslee Wright_ + + +It was a big mistake. I should not have done it. By birth, by instinct, +by training, by habit, I am a man of action. Or I was. It is queer that +an old man cannot remember that he is no longer young. + +[Sidenote: Commander John Hanson of the Special Patrol Service records +another of his thrilling interplanetary assignments.] + +But it was a mistake for me to mention that I had recorded, for the +archives of the Council, the history of a certain activity of the +Special Patrol--a bit of secret history[1] which may not be mentioned +here. Now they insist--by "they" I refer to the Chiefs of the Special +Patrol Service--that I write of other achievements of the Service, other +adventures worthy of note. + +[Footnote 1: Editors Note: "The Forgotten Planet" July 1930 issue of +Astounding Stories] + +Perhaps that is the penalty of becoming old. From commander of the +_Budi_, one of the greatest of the Special Patrol ships, to the duties +of recording ancient history, for younger men to read and dream about. +That is a shrewd blow to one's pride. + +But if I can, in some small way, add luster to the record of my service, +it will be a fitting task for a man grown old and gray in that service; +work for hands too weak and palsied for sterner duties. + +But I shall tell my stories in my own way; after all, they are my +stories. And I shall tell the stories that appeal to me most. The +universe has had enough and too much of dry history; these shall be +adventurous tales to make the blood of a young man who reads them run a +trifle faster--and perhaps the blood of the old man who writes them. + +This, the first, shall be the story of the star L-472. You know it +to-day as Ibit, port-o'-call for interplanetary ships, and source of +ocrite for the universe, but to me it will always be L-472, the world of +terrible tentacles. + + * * * * * + +My story begins nearly a hundred years ago--reckoned in terms of Earth +time, which is proper, since I am a native of Earth--when I was a young +man. I was sub-commander, at the time, of the _Kalid_, one of the early +ships of the Special Patrol. + +We had been called to Zenia on special orders, and Commander Jamison, +after an absence of some two hours, returned to the _Kalid_ with his +face shining, one of his rare smiles telling me in advance that he had +news--and good news. + +He hurried me up to the deserted navigating room and waved me to a seat. + +"Hanson," he said. "I'm glad to be the first to congratulate you. You +are now Commander John Hanson, of the Special Patrol Ship _Kalid_!" + +"Sir." I gasped, "do you mean--" + +His smile broadened. From the breast pocket of the trim blue and silver +uniform of our Service he drew a long, crackling paper. + +"Your commission," he said. "I'm taking over the _Borelis_." + +It was my turn to extend congratulations then; the _Borelis_ was the +newest and greatest ship of the Service. We shook hands, that ancient +gesture of good-fellowship on Earth. But, as our hands unclasped, +Jamison's face grew suddenly grave. + +"I have more than this news for you, however," he said slowly. "You are +to have a chance to earn your comet hardly." + + * * * * * + +I smiled broadly at the mention of the comet, the silver insignia, worn +over the heart, that would mark my future rank as commander, replacing +the four-rayed star of a sub-commander which I wore now on my tunic. + +"Tell me more, sir," I said confidently. + +"You have heard of the Special Patrol Ship _Filanus_?" asked my late +commander gravely. + +"Reported lost in space," I replied promptly. + +"And the _Dorlos_?" + +"Why--yes; she was at Base here at our last call," I said, searching his +face anxiously. "Peter Wilson was Second Officer on her--one of my best +friends. Why do you ask about her, sir?" + +"The _Dorlos_ is missing also," said Commander Jamison solemnly. "Both +of these ships were sent upon a particular mission. Neither of them has +returned. It is concluded that some common fate has overtaken them. The +_Kalid_, under your command, is commissioned to investigate these +disappearances. + +"You are not charged with the mission of these other ships; your orders +are to investigate their disappearance. The course, together with the +official patrol orders, I shall hand you presently, but with them go +verbal orders. + +"You are to lay and keep the course designated, which will take you well +out of the beaten path to a small world which has not been explored, +but which has been circumnavigated a number of times by various ships +remaining just outside the atmospheric envelope, and found to be without +evidence of intelligent habitation. In other words, without cities, +roads, canals, or other evidence of human handiwork or civilization. + + * * * * * + +"I believe your instructions give you some of this information, but not +all of it. This world, unnamed because of its uninhabited condition, is +charted only as L-472. Your larger charts will show it, I am sure. The +atmosphere is reported to be breatheable by inhabitants of Earth and +other beings having the same general requirements. Vegetation is +reported as dense, covering the five continents of the world to the +edges of the northern and southern polar caps, which are small. +Topographically, the country is rugged in the extreme, with many peaks, +apparently volcanic, but now inactive or extinct, on all of its five +large continents." + +"And am I to land there, sir?" I asked eagerly. + +"Your orders are very specific upon that point," said Commander Jamison. +"You are not to land until you have carefully and thoroughly +reconnoitered from above, at low altitude. You will exercise every +possible precaution. Your specific purpose is simply this: to determine, +if possible, the fate of the other two ships, and report your findings +at once. The Chiefs of the Service will then consider the matter, and +take whatever action may seem advisable to them." Jamison rose to his +feet and thrust out his hand in Earth's fine old salute of farewell. + +"I must be going, Hanson," he said. "I wish this patrol were mine +instead of yours. You are a young man for such a responsibility." + +"But," I replied, with the glowing confidence of youth, "I have the +advantage of having served under Commander Jamison!" + + * * * * * + +He smiled as we shook again, and shook his head. + +"Discretion can be learned only by experience," he said. "But I wish you +success, Hanson; on this undertaking, and on many others. Supplies are +on their way now; the crew will return from leave within the hour. A +young Zenian, name of Dival, I believe, is detailed to accompany you as +scientific observer--purely unofficial capacity, of course. He has been +ordered to report to you at once. You are to depart as soon as feasible: +you know what that means. I believe that's all--Oh, yes! I had almost +forgotten. + +"Here, in this envelope, are your orders and your course, as well as all +available data on L-472. In this little casket is--your comet, Hanson. I +know you will wear it with honor!" + +"Thank you, sir!" I said, a bit huskily. I saluted, and Commander +Jamison acknowledged the gesture with stiff precision. Commander Jamison +always had the reputation of being something of a martinet. + +When he had left, I picked up the thin blue envelope he had left. Across +the face of the envelope, in the--to my mind--jagged and unbeautiful +Universal script, was my name, followed by the proud title: "_Commander, +Special Patrol Ship Kalid._" My first orders! + +There was a small oval box, of blue leather, with the silver crest of +the Service in bas-relief on the lid. I opened the case, and gazed with +shining eyes at the gleaming, silver comet that nestled there. + +Then, slowly, I unfastened the four-rayed star on my left breast, and +placed in its stead the insignia of my commandership. + +Worn smooth and shiny now, it is still my most precious possession. + + * * * * * + +Kincaide, my second officer, turned and smiled as I entered the +navigating room. + +"L-472 now registers maximum attraction, sir," he reported. "Dead ahead, +and coming up nicely. My last figures, completed about five minutes +ago, indicate that we should reach the gaseous envelope in about ten +hours." Kincaide was a native of Earth, and we commonly used Earth +time-measurements in our conversation. As is still the case, ships of +the Special Patrol Service were commanded without exception by natives +of Earth, and the entire officer personnel hailed largely from the same +planet, although I have had several Zenian officers of rare ability and +courage. + +I nodded and thanked him for the report. Maximum attraction, eh? That, +considering the small size of our objective, meant we were much closer +to L-472 than to any other regular body. + +Mechanically, I studied the various dials about the room. The attraction +meter, as Kincaide had said, registered several degrees of attraction, +and the red slide on the rim of the dial was squarely at the top, +showing that the attraction was coming from the world at which our nose +was pointed. The surface-temperature gauge was at normal. Internal +pressure, normal. Internal moisture-content, a little high. Kincaide, +watching me, spoke up: + +"I have already given orders to dry out, sir," he said. + +"Very good, Mr. Kincaide. It's a long trip, and I want the crew in good +condition." I studied the two charts, one showing our surroundings +laterally, the other vertically, all bodies about us represented as +glowing spots of green light, of varying sizes; the ship itself as a +tiny scarlet spark. Everything shipshape: perhaps, a degree or two of +elevation when we were a little closer-- + +"May I come in sir?" broke in a gentle, high-pitched voice. + +"Certainly, Mr. Dival," I replied, answering in the Universal language +in which the request had been made. "You are always very welcome." Dival +was a typical Zenian of the finest type: slim, very dark, and with the +amazingly intelligent eyes of his kind. His voice was very soft and +gentle, and like the voice of all his people, clear and high-pitched. + +"Thank you," he said. "I guess I'm over-eager, but there's something +about this mission of ours that worries me. I seem to feel--" He broke +off abruptly and began pacing back and forth across the room. + +I studied him, frowning. The Zenians have a strange way of being right +about such things; their high-strung, sensitive natures seem capable of +responding to those delicate, vagrant forces which even now are only +incompletely understood and classified. + +"You're not used to work of this sort," I replied, as bluffly and +heartily as possible. "There's nothing to worry about." + +"The commanders of the two ships that disappeared probably felt the same +way, sir," said Dival. "I should have thought the Chiefs of the Special +Patrol Service would have sent several ships on a mission such as this." + +"Easy to say," I laughed bitterly. "If the Council would pass the +appropriations we need, we might have ships enough so that we could send +a fleet of ships when we wished. Instead of that, the Council, in its +infinite wisdom, builds greater laboratories and schools of higher +learning--and lets the Patrol get along as best it can." + +"It was from the laboratories and the schools of higher learning that +all these things sprang," replied Dival quietly, glancing around at the +array of instruments which made navigation in space possible. + +"True," I admitted rather shortly. "We must work together. And as for +what we shall find upon the little world ahead, we shall be there in +nine or ten hours. You may wish to make some preparations." + +"Nine or ten hours? That's Earth time, isn't it? Let's see: about two +and a half enaros." + +"Correct," I smiled. The Universal method of reckoning time had never +appealed to me. For those of my readers who may only be familiar with +Earth time measurements, an enar is about eighteen Earth days, an enaren +a little less than two Earth days, and an enaro nearly four and a half +hours. The Universal system has the advantage, I admit, of a decimal +division; but I have found it clumsy always. I may be stubborn and +old-fashioned, but a clock face with only ten numerals and one hand +still strikes me as being unbeautiful and inefficient. + +"Two and a half enaros," repeated Dival thoughtfully. "I believe I shall +see if I can get a little sleep now; I should not have brought my books +with me, I'm afraid. I read when I should sleep. Will you call me should +there be any developments of interest?" + +I assured him that he would be called as he requested, and he left. + +"Decent sort of a chap, sir," observed Kincaide, glancing at the door +through which Dival had just departed. + +"A student," I nodded, with the contempt of violent youth for the man of +gentler pursuits than mine, and turned my attentions to some +calculations for entry in the log. + + * * * * * + +Busied with the intricate details of my task, time passed rapidly. The +watch changed, and I joined my officers in the tiny, arched dining +salon. It was during the meal that I noticed for the first time a sort +of tenseness; every member of the mess was unusually quiet. And though I +would not, have admitted it then, I was not without a good deal of +nervous restraint myself. + +"Gentlemen," I remarked when the meal was finished, "I believe you +understand our present mission. Primarily, our purpose is to ascertain, +if possible, the fate of two ships that were sent here and have not +returned. We are now close enough for reasonable observation by means of +the television disc, I believe, and I shall take over its operation +myself. + +"There is no gainsaying the fact that whatever fate overtook the two +other Patrol ships, may lay in wait for us. My orders are to observe +every possible precaution, and to return with a report. I am going to +ask that each of you proceed immediately to his post, and make ready, in +so far as possible, for any eventuality. Warn the watch which has just +gone off to be ready for instant duty. The disintegrator ray generators +should be started and be available for instant emergency use, maximum +power. Have the bombing crews stand by for orders." + +"What do you anticipate, sir?" asked Correy, my new sub-commander. The +other officers waited tensely for my reply. + +"I don't know, Mr. Correy," I admitted reluctantly. "We have no +information upon which to base an assumption. We do know that two ships +have been sent here, and neither of them have returned. Something +prevented that return. We must endeavor to prevent that same fate from +overtaking the _Kalid_--and ourselves." + + * * * * * + +Hurrying back to the navigating room, I posted myself beside the +cumbersome, old-fashioned television instrument. L-472 was near enough +now to occupy the entire field, with the range hand at maximum. One +whole continent and parts of two others were visible. Not many details +could be made out. + +I waited grimly while an hour, two hours, went by. My field narrowed +down to one continent, to a part of one continent. I glanced up at the +surface temperature gauge and noted that the hand was registering a few +degrees above normal. Correy, who had relieved Kincaide as navigating +officer, followed my gaze. + +"Shall we reduce speed, sir?" he asked crisply. + +"To twice atmospheric speed," I nodded. "When we enter the envelope +proper, reduce to normal atmospheric speed. Alter your course upon +entering the atmosphere proper, and work back and forth along the +emerging twilight zone, from the north polar cap to the southern cap, +and so on." + +"Yes, sir!" he replied, and repeated the orders to the control room +forward. + +I pressed the attention signal to Dival's cubicle, and informed him that +we were entering the outer atmospheric fringe. + +"Thank you, sir!" he said eagerly. "I shall be with you immediately." + +In rapid succession I called various officers and gave terse orders. +Double crews on duty in the generator compartment, the ray projectors, +the atomic bomb magazines, and release tubes. Observers at all +observation posts, operators at the two smaller television instruments +to comb the terrain and report instantly any object of interest. With +the three of us searching, it seemed incredible that anything could +escape us. At atmospheric altitudes even the two smaller television +instruments would be able to pick out a body the size of one of the +missing ships. + + * * * * * + +Dival entered the room as I finished giving my orders. + +"A strange world, Dival," I commented, glancing towards the television +instrument. "Covered with trees, even the mountains, and what I presume +to be volcanic peaks. They crowd right down to the edge of the water." + +He adjusted the focusing lever slightly, his face lighting up with the +interest of a scientist gazing at a strange specimen, whether it be a +microbe or a new world. + +"Strange ... strange ..." he muttered. "A universal vegetation ... no +variation of type from equator to polar cap, apparently. And the +water--did you notice its color, sir?" + +"Purple," I nodded. "It varies on the different worlds, you know. I've +seen pink, red, white and black seas, as well as the green and blue of +Earth." + +"And no small islands," he went on, as though he had not ever heard me. +"Not in the visible portion, at any rate." + +I was about to reply, when I felt the peculiar surge of the _Kalid_ as +she reduced speed. I glanced at the indicator, watching the hand drop +slowly to atmospheric speed. + +"Keep a close watch, Dival," I ordered. "We shall change our course now, +to comb the country for traces of two ships we are seeking. If you see +the least suspicious sign, let me know immediately." + + * * * * * + +He nodded, and for a time there was only a tense silence in the room, +broken at intervals by Correy as he spoke briefly into his microphone, +giving orders to the operating room. + +Perhaps an hour went by. I am not sure. It seemed like a longer time +than that. Then Dival called out in sudden excitement, his high, thin +voice stabbing the silence: + +"Here, sir! Look! A little clearing--artificial, I judge--and the ships! +Both of them!" + +"Stop the ship, Mr. Correy!" I snapped as I hurried to the instrument. +"Dival, take those reports." I gestured towards the two attention +signals that were glowing and softly humming and thrust my head into the +shelter of the television instrument's big hood. + +Dival had made no mistake. Directly beneath me, as I looked, was a +clearing, a perfect square with rounded corners, obviously blasted out +of the solid forest by the delicate manipulation of sharply focused +disintegrator rays. And upon the naked, pitted surface thus exposed, +side by side in orderly array, were the missing ships! + + * * * * * + +I studied the strange scene with a heart that thumped excitedly against +my ribs. + +What should I do? Return and report? Descend and investigate? There was +no sign of life around the ships, and no evidence of damage. If I +brought the _Kalid_ down, would she make a third to remain there, to be +marked "lost in space" on the records of the Service? + +Reluctantly, I drew my head from beneath the shielding hood. + +"What were the two reports, Dival?" I asked, and my voice was thick. +"The other two television observers?" + +"Yes, sir. They report that they cannot positively identify the ships +with their instruments, but feel certain that they are the two we seek." + +"Very good. Tell them, please, to remain on watch, searching space in +every direction, and to report instantly anything suspicious. Mr. +Correy, we will descend until this small clearing becomes visible, +through the ports, to the unaided eye. I will give you the corrections +to bring us directly over the clearing." And I read the finder scales of +the television instrument to him. + +He rattled off the figures, calculated an instant, and gave his orders +to the control room, while I kept the television instrument bearing upon +the odd clearing and the two motionless, deserted ships. + + * * * * * + +As we settled, I could make out the insignia of the ships, could see the +pitted, stained earth of the clearing, brown with the dust of +disintegration. I could see the surrounding trees very distinctly now: +they seemed very similar to our weeping willows, on Earth, which, I +perhaps should explain, since it is impossible for the average +individual to have a comprehensive knowledge of the flora and fauna of +the entire known Universe, is a tree of considerable size, having long, +hanging branches arching from its crown and reaching nearly to the +ground. These leaves, like typical willow leaves, were long and slender, +of rusty green color. The trunks and branches seemed to be black or dark +brown: and the trees grew so thickly that nowhere between their branches +was the ground visible. + +"Five thousand feet, sir," said Correy. "Directly above the clearing. +Shall we descend further?" + +"A thousand feet at a time, Mr. Correy," I replied, after a moment's +hesitation. "My orders are to exercise the utmost caution. Mr. Dival, +please make a complete analysis of the atmosphere. I believe you are +familiar with the traps provided for the purpose?" + +"Yes. You propose to land, sir?" + +"I propose to determine the fate of those two ships and the men who +brought them here," I said with sudden determination. Dival made no +reply, but as he turned to obey orders, I saw that his presentiment of +trouble had not left him. + +"Four thousand feet, sir," said Correy. + +I nodded, studying the scene below us. The great hooded instrument +brought it within, apparently, fifty feet of my eyes, but the great +detail revealed nothing of interest. + +The two ships lay motionless, huddled close together. The great circular +door of each was open, as though opened that same day--or a century +before. + +"Three thousand feet, sir," said Correy. + +"Proceed at the same speed," I replied. Whatever fate had overtaken the +men of the other ships had caused them to disappear entirely--and +without sign of a struggle. But what conceivable fate could that be? + +"Two thousand feet, sir," said Correy. + +"Good," I said grimly. "Continue with the descent, Mr. Correy." + +Dival hurried into the room as I spoke. His face was still clouded with +foreboding. + +"I have tested the atmosphere, sir," he reported. "It is suitable for +breathing by either men of Earth or Zenia. No trace of noxious gases of +any kind. It is probably rather rarified, such as one might find on +Earth or Zenia at high altitudes." + +"One thousand feet, sir," said Correy. + +I hesitated an instant. Undoubtedly the atmosphere had been tested by +the other ships before they landed. In the case of the second ship, at +any rate, those in command must have been on the alert against danger. +And yet both of those ships lay there motionless, vacant, deserted. + + * * * * * + +I could feel the eyes of the men on me. My decision must be delayed no +further. + +"We will land, Mr. Correy," I said grimly. "Near the two ships, please." + +"Very well, sir," nodded Correy, and spoke briefly into the microphone. + +"I might warn you, sir," said Dival quietly, "to govern your activities, +once outside: free from the gravity pads of the ship, on a body of such +small size, an ordinary step will probably cause a leap of considerable +distance." + +"Thank you, Mr. Dival. That is a consideration I had overlooked. I shall +warn the men. We must--" + +At that instant I felt the slight jar of landing. I glanced up; met +Correy's grave glance squarely. + +"Grounded, sir," he said quietly. + +"Very good, Mr. Correy. Keep the ship ready for instant action, please, +and call the landing crew to the forward exit. You will accompany us, +Mr. Dival?" + +"Certainly, sir!" + +"Good. You understand your orders, Mr. Correy?" + +"Yes, sir!" + +I returned his salute, and led the way out of the room, Dival close on +my heels. + + * * * * * + +The landing crew was composed of all men not at regular stations; nearly +half of the _Kalid's_ entire crew. They were equipped with the small +atomic power pistols as side-arms, and there were two three-men +disintegrator ray squads. We all wore menores, which were unnecessary +in the ship, but decidedly useful outside. I might add that the menore +of those days was not the delicate, beautiful thing that it is to-day: +it was comparatively crude, and clumsy band of metal, in which were +imbedded the vital units and the tiny atomic energy generator, and was +worn upon the head like a crown. But for all its clumsiness, it conveyed +and received thought, and, after all, that was all we demanded of it. + +I caught a confused jumble of questioning thoughts as I came up, and +took command of the situation promptly. It will be understood, of +course, that in those days men had not learned to blank their minds +against the menore, as they do to-day. It took generations of training +to perfect that ability. + +"Open the exit," I ordered Kincaide, who was standing by the switch, key +in the lock. + +"Yes, sir," he thought promptly, and unlocking the switch, released the +lever. + +The great circular door revolved swiftly, backing slowly on its fine +threads, gripped by the massive gimbals which, as at last the ponderous +plug of metal freed itself from its threads, swung the circular door +aside, like the door of a vault. + + * * * * * + +Fresh clean air swept in, and we breathed, it gratefully. Science can +revitalize air, take out impurities and replace used-up constituents, +but if cannot give it the freshness of pure natural air. Even the +science of to-day. + +"Mr. Kincaide, you will stand by with five men. Under no circumstances +are you to leave your post until ordered to do so. No rescue parties, +under any circumstances, are to be sent out unless you have those orders +directly from me. Should any untoward thing happen to this party, you +will instantly reseal this exit, reporting at the same time to Mr. +Correy, who has his orders. You will not attempt to rescue us, but will +return to the Base and report in full, with Mr. Correy in command. Is +that clear?" + +"Perfectly," came back his response instantly; but I could sense the +rebellion in his mind. Kincaid and I were old friends, as well as fellow +officers. + +I smiled at him reassuringly, and directed my orders to the waiting men. + +"You are aware of the fate of the two ships of the Patrol that have +already landed here," I thought slowly, to be sure they understood +perfectly. "What fate overtook them, I do not know. That is what we are +here to determine." + +"It is obvious that this is a dangerous mission. I'm ordering none of +you to go. Any man who wishes to be relieved from landing duty may +remain inside the ship, and may feel it no reproach. Those who do go +should be constantly on the alert, and keep in formation; the usual +column of twos. Be very careful, when stepping out of the ship, to +adjust your stride to the lessened gravity of this small world. Watch +this point!" I turned to Dival, motioned him to fall in at my side. +Without a backward glance, we marched out of the ship, treading very +carefully to keep from leaping into the air with each step. + +Twenty feet away, I glanced back. There were fourteen men behind me--not +a man of the landing crew had remained in the ship! + +"I am proud of you men!" I thought heartily: and no emanation from any +menore was ever more sincere. + + * * * * * + +Cautiously, eyes roving ceaselessly, we made our way towards the two +silent ships. It seemed a quiet, peaceful world: an unlikely place for +tragedy. The air was fresh and clean, although, as Dival had predicted, +rarefied like the air at an altitude. The willow-like trees that hemmed +us in rustled gently, their long, frond-like branches with their rusty +green leaves swaying. + +"Do you notice, sir," came a gentle thought from Dival, an emanation +that could hardly have been perceptible to the men behind us, "that +there is no wind--and yet the trees, yonder, are swaying and rustling?" + +I glanced around, startled. I had not noticed the absence of a breeze. + +I tried to make my response reassuring: + +"There is probably a breeze higher up, that doesn't dip down into this +little clearing," I ventured. "At any rate, it is not important. These +ships are what interest me. What will we find there?" + +"We shall soon know," replied Dival. "Here is the _Dorlos_; the second +of the two, was it not?" + +"Yes." I came to a halt beside the gaping door. There was no sound +within, no evidence of life there, no sign that men had ever crossed +that threshold, save that the whole fabric was the work of man's hands. + +"Mr. Dival and I will investigate the ship, with two of you men," I +directed. "The rest of the detail will remain on guard, and give the +alarm at the least sign of any danger. You first two men, follow us." +The indicated men nodded and stepped forward. Their "Yes, sirs" came +surging through my menore like a single thought. Cautiously, Dival at my +side, the two men at our backs, we stepped over the high threshold into +the interior of the _Dorlos_. + +The _ethon_ tubes overhead made everything as light as day, and since +the _Dorlos_ was a sister ship of my own _Kalid_, I had not the +slightest difficulty in finding my way about. + +There was no sign of a disturbance anywhere. Everything was in perfect +order. From the evidence, it would seem that the officers and men of the +_Dorlos_ had deserted the ship of their own accord, and--failed to +return. + +"Nothing of value here," I commented to Dival. "We may as well--" + +There was a sudden commotion from outside the ship. Startled shouts +rang through the hollow hull, and a confused medley of excited thoughts +came pouring in. + +With one accord the four of us dashed to the exit, Dival and I in the +lead. At the door we paused, following the stricken gaze of the men +grouped in a rigid knot just outside. + +Some, forty feet away was the edge of the forest that hemmed us in. A +forest that now was lashing and writhing as though in the grip of some +terrible hurricane, trunks bending and whipping, long branches writhing, +curling, lashing out-- + +"Two of the men, sir!" shouted a non-commissioned officer of the landing +crew, as we appeared in the doorway. In his excitement he forgot his +menore, and resorted to the infinitely slower but more natural speech. +"Some sort of insect came buzzing down--like an Earth bee, but larger. +One of the men slapped it, and jumped aside, forgetting the low gravity +here. He shot into the air, and another of the men made a grab for him. +They both went sailing, and the trees--_look!_" + +But I had already spotted the two men. The trees had them in their grip, +long tentacles curled around them, a dozen of the great willow-like +growths apparently fighting for possession of the prizes. And all +around, far out of reach, the trees of the forest were swaying +restlessly, their long, pendulous branches, like tentacles, lashing out +hungrily. + +"The rays, sir!" snapped the thought from Dival, like a flash of +lightning. "Concentrate the beams--strike at the trunks--" + +"Right!" My orders emanated on the heels of the thought more quickly +than one word could have been uttered. The six men who operated the +disintegrator rays were stung out of their startled immobility, and the +soft hum of the atomatic power generators deepened. + +"Strike at the trunks of the trees! Beams narrowed to minimum! Action at +will!" + +The invisible rays swept long gashes into the forest as the trainers +squatted behind their sights, directing the long, gleaming tubes. +Branches crashed to the ground, suddenly motionless. Thick brown dust +dropped heavily. A trunk, shortened by six inches or so, dropped into +its stub and fell with a prolonged sound of rending wood. The trees +against which it had fallen tugged angrily at their trapped tentacles. + +One of the men rolled free, staggered to his feet, and came lurching +towards us. Trunk after trunk dropped onto its severed stub and fell +among the lashing branches of its fellows. The other man was caught for +a moment in a mass of dead and motionless wood, but a cunningly directed +ray dissolved the entangling branches around him and he lay there, free +but unable to arise. + + * * * * * + +The rays played on ruthlessly. The brown, heavy powder was falling like +greasy soot. Trunk after trunk crashed to the ground, slashed into +fragments. + +"Cease action!" I ordered, and instantly the eager whine of the +generators softened to a barely discernible hum. Two of the men, under +orders, raced out to the injured man: the rest of us clustered around +the first of the two to be freed from the terrible tentacles of the +trees. + +His menore was gone, his tight-fitting uniform was in shreds, and +blotched with blood. There was a huge crimson welt across his face, and +blood dripped slowly from the tips of his fingers. + +"_God!_" he muttered unsteadily as kindly arms lifted him with eager +tenderness. "They're alive! Like snakes. They--they're _hungry_!" + +"Take him to the ship," I ordered. "He is to receive treatment +immediately," I turned to the detail that was bringing in the other +victim. The man was unconscious, and moaning, but suffering more from +shock than anything else. A few minutes under the helio emanations and +he would be fit for light duty. + + * * * * * + +As the men hurried him to the ship, I turned to Dival. He was standing +beside me, rigid, his face very pale, his eyes fixed on space. + +"What do you make of it, Mr. Dival?" I questioned him. + +"Of the trees?" He seemed startled, as though I had aroused him from +deepest thought. "They are not difficult to comprehend, sir. There are +numerous growths that are primarily carnivorous. We have the fintal vine +on Zenia, which coils instantly when touched, and thus traps many small +animals which it wraps about with its folds and digests through +sucker-like growths. + +"On your own Earth there are, we learn, hundreds of varieties of +insectivorous plants: the Venus fly-trap, known otherwise as the Dionaea +Muscipula, which has a leaf hinged in the median line, with teeth-like +bristles. The two portions of the leaf snap together with considerable +force when an insect alights upon the surface, and the soft portions of +the catch are digested by the plant before the leaf opens again. The +pitcher plant is another native of Earth, and several varieties of it +are found on Zenia and at least two other planets. It traps its game +without movement, but is nevertheless insectivorous. You have another +species on Earth that is, or was, very common: the Mimosa Pudica. +Perhaps you know it as the sensitive plant. It does not trap insects, +but it has a very distinct power of movement, and is extremely +irritable. + +"It is not at all difficult to understand a carniverous tree, capable of +violent and powerful motion. This is undoubtedly what we have here--a +decidedly interesting phenomena, but not difficult of comprehension." + +It seems like a long explanation, as I record it here, but emanated as +it was, it took but an instant to complete it. Mr. Dival went on +without a pause: + +"I believe, however, that I have discovered something far more +important. How is your menore adjusted, sir?" + +"At minimum." + +"Turn it to maximum, sir." + +I glanced at him curiously, but obeyed. New streams of thought poured in +upon me. Kincaide ... the guard at the exit ... _and something else_. + +I blanked out Kincaide and the men, feeling Dival's eyes searching my +face. There was something else, something-- + +I focused on the dim, vague emanations that came to me from the circlet +of my menore, and gradually, like an object seen through heavy mist, I +perceived the message: + +"Wait! Wait! We are coming! Through the ground. The trees ... +disintegrate them ... all of them ... all you can reach. But not the +ground ... not the ground...." + +"Peter!" I shouted, turning to Dival. "That's Peter Wilson, second +officer of the _Dorlos_!" + +Dival nodded, his dark face alight. + +"Let us see if we can answer him," he suggested, and we concentrated all +our energy on a single thought: "We understand. We understand." + +The answer came back instantly: + +"Good! Thank God! Sweep them down, Hanson: every tree of them. Kill them +... kill them ... kill them!" The emanation fairly shook with hate. "We +are coming ... to the clearing ... wait--and while you wait, use your +rays upon these accursed hungry trees!" + +Grimly and silently we hurried back to the ship. Dival, the savant, +snatching up specimens of earth and rock here and there as we went. + + * * * * * + +The disintegrator rays of the portable projectors were no more than toys +compared with the mighty beams the _Kalid_ was capable of projecting, +with her great generators to supply power. Even with the beams narrowed +to the minimum, they cut a swath a yard or more in diameter, and their +range was tremendous; although working rather less rapidly as the +distance and power decreased, they were effective over a range of many +miles. + +Before their blasting beams the forest shriveled and sank into tumbled +chaos. A haze of brownish dust hung low over the scene, and I watched +with a sort of awe. It was the first time I had ever seen the rays at +work on such wholesale destruction. + +A startling thing became evident soon after we began our work. This +world that we had thought to be void of animal life, proved to be +teeming with it. From out of the tangle of broken and harmless branches, +thousands of animals appeared. The majority of them were quite large, +perhaps the size of full-grown hogs, which Earth animal they seemed to +resemble, save that they were a dirty yellow color, and had strong, +heavily-clawed feet. These were the largest of the animals, but there +were myriads of smaller ones, all of them pale or neutral in color, and +apparently unused to such strong light, for they ran blindly, wildly +seeking shelter from the universal confusion. + +Still the destructive beams kept about their work, until the scene +changed utterly. Instead of resting in a clearing, the _Kalid_ was in +the midst of a tangle of fallen, wilting branches that stretched like a +great, still sea, as far as the eye could see. + +"Cease action!" I ordered suddenly. I had seen, or thought I had seen, a +human figure moving in the tangle, not far from the edge of the +clearing. Correy relayed the order, and instantly the rays were cut off. +My menore, free from the interference of the great atomic generators of +the _Kalid_, emanated the moment the generators ceased functioning. + +"Enough. Hanson! Cut the rays; we're coming." + +"We have ceased action; come on!" + +I hurried to the still open exit. Kincaide and his guards were staring +at what had been the forest; they were so intent that they did not +notice I had joined them--and no wonder! + +A file of men were scrambling over the debris; gaunt men with +dishevelled hair, practically naked, covered with dirt and the greasy +brown dust of the disintegrator ray. In the lead, hardly recognizable, +his menore awry upon his tangled locks, was Peter Wilson. + +"Wilson!" I shouted; and in a single great leap I was at his side, +shaking his hand, one arm about his scarred shoulders, laughing and +talking excitedly, all in the same breath. "Wilson, tell me--in God's +name--what has happened?" + +He looked up at me with shining, happy eyes, deep in black sockets of +hunger and suffering. + +"The part that counts," he said hoarsely, "is that you're here, and we're +here with you. My men need rest and food--not too much food, at first, +for we're starving. I'll give you the story--or as much of it as I +know--while we eat." + +I sent my orders ahead; for every man of that pitiful crew of survivors, +there were two eager men of the _Kalid's_ crew to minister to him. In +the little dining salon of the officers' mess, Wilson gave us the story, +while he ate slowly and carefully, keeping his ravenous hunger in check. + +"It's a weird sort of story," he said. "I'll cut it as short as I can. +I'm too weary for details. + +"The _Dorlos_, as I suppose you know, was ordered to L-472 to determine +the fate of the _Filanus_, which had been sent here to determine the +feasibility of establishing a supply base here for a new interplanetary +ship line. + +"It took us nearly three days, Earth time, to locate this clearing and +the _Filanus_, and we grounded the _Dorlos_ immediately. Our +commander--you probably remember him, Hanson: David McClellan? Big, +red-faced chap?" + +I nodded, and Wilson continued. + +"Commander McClellan was a choleric person, as courageous a man as ever +wore the blue and silver of the Service, and very thoughtful of his men. +We had had a bad trip; two swarms of meteorites that had worn our nerves +thin, and a faulty part in the air-purifying apparatus had nearly done +us in. While the exit was being unsealed, he gave the interior crew +permission to go off duty, to get some fresh air, with orders, however, +to remain close to the ship, under my command. Then, with the usual +landing crew, he started for the _Filanus_. + +"He had forgotten, under the stress of the moment, that the force of +gravity would be very small on a body no larger than this. The result +was that as soon as they hurried out of the ship, away from the +influence of our own gravity pads, they hurtled into the air in all +directions." + +Wilson paused. Several seconds passed before he could go on. + +"Well, the trees--I suppose you know something about them--reached out +and swept up three of them. McClellan and the rest of the landing crew +rushed to their rescue. They were caught up. _God!_ I can see them ... +hear them ... even now! + +"I couldn't stand there and see that happen to them. With the rest of +the crew behind me, we rushed out, armed only with our atomic pistols. +We did not dare use the rays; there were a dozen men caught up +everywhere in those hellish tentacles. + +"I don't know what I thought we could do. I knew only that I must do +something. Our leaps carried us over the tops of the trees that were +fighting for the ... the bodies of McClellan and the rest of the landing +crew. I saw then, when it was too late, that there was nothing we could +do. The trees ... had done their work. They ... they were _feeding_.... + +"Perhaps that is why we escaped. We came down in a tangle of whipping +branches. Several of my men were snatched up. The rest of us saw how +helpless our position was ... that there was nothing we could do. We +saw, too, that the ground was literally honeycombed, and we dived down +these burrows, out of the reach of the trees. + +"There were nineteen of us that escaped. I can't tell you how we +lived--I would not if I could. The burrows had been dug by the pig-like +animals that the trees live upon, and they led, eventually, to the +shore, where there was water--horrible, bitter stuff, but not salty, and +apparently not poisonous." + +We lived on these pig-like animals, and we learned something of their +way of life. The trees seem to sleep, or become inactive, at night. Not +unless they are touched do they lash about with their tentacles. At +night the animals feed, largely upon the large, soft fruit of these +trees. Of course, large numbers of them make a fatal step each night, +but they are prolific, and their ranks do not suffer. + +"Of course, we tried to get back to the clearing, and the _Dorlos_; +first by tunneling. That was impossible, we found, because the rays used +by the _Filanus_ in clearing a landing place had acted somewhat upon the +earth beneath, and it was like powder. Our burrows fell in upon us +faster than we could dig them out! Two of my men lost their lives that +way. + +"Then we tried creeping back by night; but we could not see as can the +other animals here, and we quickly found that it was suicide to attempt +such tactics. Two more of the men were lost in that fashion. That left +fourteen. + +"We decided then to wait. We knew there would be another ship along, +sooner or later. Luckily, one of the men had somehow retained his +menore. We treasured that as we treasured our lives. To-day, when, deep +in our runways beneath the surface, we felt, or heard, the crashing of +the trees, we knew the Service had not forgotten us. I put on the +menore; I--but I think you know the rest, gentlemen. There were eleven +of us left. We are here--all that is left of the _Dorlos_ crew. We found +no trace of any survivor of the _Filanus_; unaware of the possibility of +danger, they were undoubtedly, all the victims of ... the trees." + +Wilson's head dropped forward on his chest. He straightened up with a +start and an apologetic smile. + +"I believe, Hanson," he said slowly, "I'd better get ... a little ... +rest," and he slumped forward on the table in the death-like sleep of +utter exhaustion. + + * * * * * + +There the interesting part of the story ends. The rest is history, and +there is too much dry history in the Universe already. + +Dival wrote three great volumes on L-472--or Ibit, as it is called now. +One of them tells in detail how the presence of constantly increasing +quantities of volcanic ash robbed the soil of that little world of its +vitality, so that all forms of vegetation except the one became extinct, +and how, through a process of development and evolution, those trees +became carniverous. + +The second volume is a learned discussion of the tree itself; it seems +that a few specimens were spared for study, isolated on a peninsula of +one of the continents, and turned over to Dival for observation and +dissection. All I can say for the book is that it is probably accurate. +Certainly it is neither interesting nor comprehensible. + +And then, of course, there is his treatise on ocrite: how he happened +to find the ore, the probable amount available on L-472--or Ibit, if you +prefer--and an explanation of his new method of refining it. I saw him +frantically gathering specimens while we were getting ready to leave, +but it wasn't until after we had departed that he mentioned what he had +found. + + * * * * * + +I have a set of these volumes somewhere; Dival autographed them and +presented me with them. They established his position, I understand, in +his world of science, and of course, the discovery of this new source of +ocrite was a tremendous find for the whole Universe; interplanetary +transportation wouldn't be where it is to-day if it were not for this +inexhaustible source of power. + +Yes, Dival became famous--and very rich. + +I received the handshakes and the gratitude of the eleven men we +rescued, and exactly nine words of commendation from the Chief of my +squadron: _"You are a credit to the Service, Commander Hanson!"_ + +Perhaps, to some who read this, it will seem that Dival fared better +than I. But to men who have known the comradeship of the outer space, +the heart-felt gratitude of eleven friends is a precious thing. And to +any man who has ever worn the blue and silver uniform of the Special +Patrol Service, those nine words from the Chief of Squadron will sound +strong. + +Chiefs of Squadrons in the Special Patrol Service--at least in those +days--were scanty with praise. It may be different in these days of soft +living and political pull. + +[Illustration] + + + + +Marooned Under the Sea + +_By Paul Ernst_ + + (Editor's note: This document, written on a curious kind of + parchment and tied to a piece of driftwood, was reported to have + been picked out of the sea near the Fiji Islands. The first and + last pages were so water soaked as to be indecipherable.) + +Yacht _Rosa_ was due to leave the San Francisco harbor in two hours. + +We were going on some mysterious cruise to the South Seas, the details +of which I did not know. + +[Sidenote: Three men stick out a strange and desperate adventure among +the incredible monsters of the dark sea floor.] + +"Professor George Berry, the famous zoologist, and myself are going to +do some exploring that is hazardous in the extreme," Stanley had said. +"For purely mechanical reasons we need a third. You are young and have +no family ties, so I thought I'd ask you to go with us. +I'd rather not tell you what it's all about until we are on our way." + +[Illustration: _"Look at the cable!" called Stanley._] + +That was all the explanation he had given. It was sufficient. I was +fed-up with life just then: I had enough money to avoid work and was +tired of playing. + +"I must warn you that you'll risk your life in this," he had continued, +in answer to my acceptance of his invitation. + +And I had replied that the hazard, whatever it might be, only made the +trip appear more desirable. + +So here I was, on board the yacht, about to sail for far places on some +scientific mission which had so far been kept veiled in secrecy and +which was represented as "hazardous in the extreme." It sounded +attractive! + + * * * * * + +Stanley came aboard accompanied by a lean, wiry man with iron gray hair +and cool, alert black eyes. + +"Hello, Martin," Stanley greeted me. "I want you to meet Professor +Berry, the real leader of this expedition. Professor, this young +red-head is Martin Grey, a sort of nephew by adoption who knows more +about night life than most cabaret proprietors--and not much of anything +else. He has shaken the dangers of the gold-diggers to face with us the +dangers of the tropic seas." + +The professor gripped my hand, and his cool black eyes gazed into mine +with a kind of friendly frostiness. + +"Don't pay any attention to him," he advised me. "Twenty years ago, when +I first met him, he was on his way to Africa to shoot elephants because +some revue beauty had just thrown him over and he felt he ought to do +something big and heroic about it. It was shortly afterward that he +decided to stay a bachelor all his life, and became such a confirmed +woman hater." + +He smiled thinly at Stanley's prod in the ribs, and the two went below, +talking and laughing with the intimacy of old friendship. + +I stayed on deck and soon found myself watching, with no little wonder, +an enormous truck and trailer arrangement that drew up on the dock +heavily loaded with a single immense crate. It was for us. I speculated +as to what it could possibly contain. + +It was a twenty or twenty-five-foot cube solidly braced with strap-iron +and steel brackets. It evidently contained something fragile. The +yacht's donkey engine lowered a hook for it, and swung it over the side +and into the hold as daintily as though it had been packed with +explosives. + +The last of the ship's stores followed it over the side: the group of +newspaper reporters who had been trying to pump the captain and first +mate for a story were warned to leave, and we were ready to go. +Precisely where and for what purpose? + +I was to find out almost immediately. + +Even as the yacht nosed superciliously away from the dock, the steward +approached me with the information that lunch was ready. I went to the +small, compactly furnished dining salon, where I was joined by Stanley +and the professor. + + * * * * * + +There were only the three of us at the table. Stanley Browne, noted big +game hunter and semi-retired owner of the great Browne Glassworks at +Altoona, a man fifteen years my senior but tanned and fit looking; +Professor Berry, well known in scientific circles; and myself, known in +no branch of activity save the one Stanley had jested about--the night +life of my home city, Chicago. + +"It's time you knew just what you're up against," said Stanley to me +after the consomme had been served. "Now that we've actually sailed, +there's no longer any need for secrecy. Indeed there never has been +urgent need of it: the Professor and myself merely thought we might +provoke incredulity and comment if we stated the purpose of our trip +publicly." + +He buttered a roll. + +"We--the Professor and you and I--are going in for some deep sea diving. +And when I say deep, I mean deep. We are going to investigate conditions +as they exist one mile down from the surface of the ocean." + +"A mile!" I exclaimed. "Why--" + +There I stopped. I had only a layman's knowledge of such matters. But I +knew that the limit of man's submersion, till then at any rate, was a +matter of a few hundred feet. + +"Sounds incredible, doesn't it," said Stanley with a smile. "But that's +what we're going to do--if the Professor's gadget works as he seems to +think it will." + +"I don't think it, I know it," retorted the Professor. "And man, man, +the things we may see down there! New and unknown species--a world no +human has ever seen before--perhaps the secret of all of life--" + +"Dragons, sea-serpents, and what not!" Stanley finished with a grin. + +"Or, possibly--nothing at all." The Professor shrugged. "I mustn't let +my scientific curiosity run away with me. Perhaps we'll find no new +thing down down. Our deep sea dredging and classification may already +embrace most of the forms of life in the greater depths." + +"If it does I want my money back," said Stanley. "When you asked me to +finance this expedition for you, I agreed on condition that you would +show me a thrill--some _real_ big game, even if I would not be able to +shoot it. If we draw blank--" + +"The mere descent should satisfy you, my adventuring friend," replied +the Professor brusquely. "I think you'll find that thrilling enough." + +"But--a mile under the surface!" I marveled, feeling not entirely +comfortable. "The pressure! Enormous! It can't be done! That is, I mean, +can it be done?" + +"It had better be," said Stanley with a humor that I did not entirely +appreciate. "If it isn't, the three of us are going to be pressed out +like three sheets of tissue paper! For we are assuredly going down that +far in the Professor's gadget." + +"Was that the thing I saw hoisted aboard just before we left?" + +"That was it. We'll stroll around after lunch and look it over." + +If I had taken this cruise in search of distraction--I was surely going +to be successful! That was plain! + +"Just where are we going?" I asked. "You said something about the South +Seas, but you've named no special part of them." + +"We're bound for Penguin Deep. That's a delightful little dimple in the +Kermadec Trough, which," Stanley explained, "is north-northeast of New +Zealand almost halfway up to the Fiji Islands. Penguin Deep is ticketed +at five thousand one hundred and fifty feet, but it probably runs deeper +in spots." + +The rest of the meal was consumed in silence. I hardly tasted what I +ate; I remember that. Over five thousand feet down--where no man had +ever ventured before! Could we make it? + +I tried to recall my neglected physics lessons and compute the pressure +that far down. I couldn't. But I knew it must be an appalling total of +tons to the square inch. What possible arrangement could they have +brought in which to make that awful descent? + +And, if the descent were accomplished, what in the world would we see +when we got down there? Gigantic, hitherto unknown fishes? Marine +growths, half animal and half vegetable? + +Decidedly, hot rolls and salad, cutlets and baked potatoes, good as they +were, could not distract attention from the crowding questions that +assailed me. And I could see that Stanley and the Professor were also +far away in their thoughts--probably already exploring Penguin Deep. + + * * * * * + +After lunch we went forward to look at the Professor's gadget, as +Stanley insisted on calling it. + +It had been carefully unpacked by the crew while we ate, and it +shimmered in the electric lighted hold like a great bubble. + +It was a giant glass sphere, polished and flawless. Inside it could be +made out various objects--a circular bench arrangement on a wooden +flooring, batteries that filled the cup between the floor and the bottom +arc of the sphere, tall metal cylinders, a small searchlight set next to +a mechanism that was indeterminate. At three equidistant points on the +sides there were glass handles, as thick as a man's thigh, cast integral +with the walls. On the top there was a smaller handle. + +At first glance the sphere seemed all in one piece, with the central +objects cast inside like a toy ship in a sealed bottle. Then a +mathematically precise ring of prismatic reflections showed me that the +top third of the ball was a separate piece, fitting conically down like +the tapered glass stopper of a monstrous perfume bottle. The handle on +the top was for the purpose of lifting this giant's teapot lid, and +allowing entrance into the sphere. + +"Isn't it a beauty?" murmured Stanley. "It ought to be," he added. "It +cost me eighty-six thousand to make it in my own glass factory. Eleven +castings before this one came along that was reasonably free of flaws. +Twenty-two feet six inches over all, walls five feet thick, new formula +unbreakable glass, four men working a month to grind the lid into place, +tolerance limits plus or minus zero." + +He slapped the Professor's shoulders. "Let's go in and look over the +apparatus." + + * * * * * + +To accommodate the huge ball a well had been constructed in the Rosa's +hold. This brought the deck we were standing on up to within six feet of +the top ring, above which was rigged a chain hoist for lifting the +ponderous lid. + +The hoist was revolved, the conical top was swung free, and we clambered +into our unique diving shell. + +The tall cylinders were revealed as great flasks of compressed air. The +indeterminate thing beside the searchlight turned out to be a hand pump, +geared to work against heavy pressure. From the suction chamber of this +three tubes extended. + +"We inhale the air of the chamber," the Professor explained to me, "and +exhale through the tubes into the pump cylinder. Breathe in through the +nose and out through the mouth. The pump piston is forced down by this +geared handle, sending the used air out of the shell through this +sixteenth-inch hole. A ball check valve keeps the water from squirting +in when the exhaust pressure is released." + +He pointed to a telegraphic key which completed a circuit from the +batteries in the bottom of the ball to a thread of copper cast through +the lid. + +"That's your plaything, Martin. You are to raise or lower us by pressing +that key. It controls the donkey engine electrically, so that we guide +our own destinies though we are a mile beneath our power plant. Stanley +works the pump. I direct the searchlight, write down notes, and, I +sincerely hope, take snapshots of deep sea life." + +For a moment my part of the labor seemed so easy as to be unfair. Merely +to sit there and punch a little key at raising and lowering time! But as +I thought it over it began to appear more difficult. + +The _Rosa_ could not anchor, of course, in a mile of water. We would +drift helplessly. If we approached an undersea cliff I must raise us at +once to prevent us being smashed against it. And if the cliff were too +lofty to be cleared in time.... + +I mentioned this to the Professor. + +"That would be unfortunate," he said, with his frosty smile. "Stanley +assures us this glass is unbreakable. He means commercially unbreakable. +What would happen to it if it were submitted to the strain of being +flung against a rock pile--in addition to the enormous stress of the +water pressure--I don't know. It's your job to see that we don't have to +find out!" + + * * * * * + +It had been planned to test the sphere empty first to see how it stood +the strain. + +We drifted to a full stop over the center of Penguin Deep where we were +to gamble our lives in a game with Neptune. Sea anchors were rigged to +lessen our drift and the donkey engine was geared to the first cable +drum. + +There was an impressive row of these drums, each holding an interminable +length of three-quarter-inch cable. The bulk of a mile of steel cable +has to be seen to be believed! + +The glass sphere was lifted from the hold, delicately for all its +enormous weight, and swung over the rail preparatory to being lowered +into the depths. + +Not until that moment did I notice two things: that there was no +fastening of any kind to keep the thick lid in place: and that the +three-quarter-inch cable looked like a pack thread in comparison to the +ponderous bulk it strained to support. + +"We couldn't use a heavier cable," said the Professor, "because of the +strain. We're overloading the hoist as it is. As for the lid being +fastened down--I think you'll find it will be pressed into place +securely enough!" + +There was unanimous silence as the great globe slipped into the +sea--down and down until the last reflection of the morning sun ceased +to shimmer from its surface. Drum after drum was played out, till the +first mate held his hand up to check the engineer. + +"Five thousand feet, sir," he called to Stanley. + +"Haul it back up. And let us hope," Stanley added fervently, "that we'll +find the gadget in one piece." + + * * * * * + +The engine began to snort rhythmically. Dripping, vibrating, the coils +of cable began to crawl back in place on the drums. There was a glint +under the surface again as the sunlight reflected on the nearing sphere. + +The great ball flashed out of the water, and a cheer burst from the +throats of all of us. It was absolutely unharmed. Only--there was a +beading of fine moisture inside the thick globe. What that could mean, +none of us could figure out. + +"Difference in temperature?" worried the Professor. "No, it's as cold +inside as out. Molecules of water driven by sheer pressure through five +feet of glass to unite in drops on the inside? Possibly. Well, there's +one way to find out. Stanley, Martin--are you ready?" + +We nodded, and prepared to visit the bottom a mile below the _Rosa's_ +keel. The preparation consisted merely in donning heavy, fleece-lined +jumpers to protect us from the cold of the sunless depths. + +Soberly we entered the ball to undergo whatever ordeal awaited us on +the distant ocean floor. How comparative distance is! A mile walk in the +country--it is nothing. A mile ascent in an airplane--a trifle. But a +mile descent into pitch black, bone chilling depths of water--that is an +immense distance! + +Copper wire, on a separate drum, was connected from the engine switch to +the copper thread that curled through the glass wall to my telegraphic +key. We strapped the mouthpieces of the breathing tubes over our heads, +and Browne started the slow turning of the compression pump. + +The Professor snapped the searchlight on and off several times to see +that it was in working shape. He raised his hand, I pressed the key, and +the long descent began. + + * * * * * + +That plunge into the bottomless depths remains in my memory almost as +clearly as the far more fantastic adventures that came to us later. + +Smoothly, rapidly, the yellow-green of the surface water dimmed to +olive. This in turn grew blacker and blacker. Then we were slipping down +into pitch darkness--a big bubble lit by a meagre lamp and containing +three fragile human beings that dared to trust the soft pulp of their +bodies to the crushing weight of the deepest ocean. + +The most impressive thing was the utter soundlessness of our descent. At +first there had been a pulsing throb of the donkey engine transmitted to +us by the sustaining cable. This died as we slid farther from the Rosa. +At length it was hushed entirely, cushioned by the springy length of +steel. There was no stir, no sound of any kind. As far as our senses +could tell us, we were hanging motionless in the pressing, awesome +blackness. + +The Professor switched off our light and turned on the searchlight which +he trained downward through the wall at as steep an angle as the +flooring would permit. Even then the illusion of motionlessness was +preserved. There was nothing in the water to mark our progress. We +might have been floating in a back void of space. + +Down and down we went, for an interminable length of time--till at +length we reached the abysmal level where the sun never shone and the +eyes of man had never gazed till now. + + * * * * * + +Words were made to describe familiar articles. I find now when I am +faced with the necessity of portraying events and objects beyond the +range of normal human experience that I cannot conjure up words to fit. +I despair of trying to make you see what we saw, and feel what we felt. + +But try to picture yourself in the glass ball with us: + +All is profound blackness save for a streak of white, dying about fifty +feet away, which is the beam of our searchlight. Twenty feet below is a +bare floor of flinty lava and broken shell. This is unrelieved by +sea-weed of any kind, appearing like an imagined fragment of Martian or +lunar landscape. + +The ball sways idly to the push of some explicable submarine current. It +is like being in a captive balloon, except that the connecting cable +extends stiffly upward instead of downward. + +There is a realization, an instinctive _feel_ of awful pressure around +you. Logic tells you how you are clamped about, but deeper than logic is +the intuition that the glass walls are pressing in on themselves--at the +point of collapse. Your ears, tingle with the feel of it: your head +rings with it. + +You are breathing in through your nose--thin, unsatisfying gulps of air +that cause your lungs to labor at their task; and you are exhaling +through, your mouth, with difficulty, into the barrel of the powerful +pump. No bubbles arise from the tiny hole where the used air is forced +into the water. The pressure is too enormous for that. Only a thin, +milky line marks its escape from the sphere. + +In a ghostly way you see Stanley turning the pump handle. With a handful +of waste which he has borrowed from the _Rosa's_ engine room, the +Professor wipes from the section of wall through which the searchlight +plays the moisture that constantly collects there. I sit with my hand +near the key, peering downward and ahead like an engineer in a +locomotive cab, ready to raise the shell or lower it as occasion +warrants. + +And always the suffocating awareness of pressure.... + + * * * * * + +Strange and mystic journey as the tortured glass sphere floated over the +bottom, following the slow drift of the _Rosa_ far above! + +The finger of light played along the tilted side of a wrecked tramp +steamer. There was a crumpled gash in the bow. From this ragged hole +suddenly appeared a great, serpentine form.... + +The Professor clutched at his camera, pointed it, and clenched his hands +in a frenzy of disappointment. The serpent shape had disappeared back +into the hull. A little later and we had drifted slowly past the wreck. + +"Damn it!" the Professor snatched away his mouthpiece to exclaim: "If we +could only _stop_." + +The bottom changed character shortly after we had passed the hulk. We +began to creep over low, gently rounded mounds. + +These were so regular in form that they were puzzling. About fifty feet +across and ten in altitude, they looked artificial in their +symmetry--like great saucers set on the ocean floor bottom side up. They +took on a dirty black hue as our light struck them, and glowed with a +faint phosphorescence as they stretched away into the darkness. + +A twelve-foot monstrosity, all toad-like head and eyes, swam into the +light beam and bumped blindly against the glass ball. For an instant it +goggled crazily at us. The Professor took its picture. It blundered +away. As it reached the darkness beyond the beam it, too, showed +phosphorescent. A belt of blue-white spots like the portholes of a +liner extended down its ugly sides. + +Along the bottom, between the curious mounds, writhed a wormlike thing. +But it was too huge to be described as truly wormlike--it was eighteen +or twenty feet long and a foot thick. It was blood red, almost blunt +ended and patently without eyes. + +I took my gaze off it for an instant. When I looked again it had +disappeared. I blinked at this seeming miracle and then discovered a +foot or so of its tail protruding from under the edge of one of the +mounds. It was threshing furiously about. + + * * * * * + +It was at this instant that I suddenly found increased difficulty, and +glanced at Stanley. + +He had stopped pumping and was clutching at the Professor's arm with one +hand while he pointed down with the other. The Professor motioned him +toward the pump, and began to click pictures furiously with the camera +pointed at the nearest mound. + +Wondering at the urgency of Stanley's gesture and the frantic clicking +of the camera shutter, I looked more closely at the curious, saucerlike +hump. + +Under closer inspection something remarkably like a huge, mud-colored +eye was revealed! And as we drifted along, twenty feet away on the +farther slope, another appeared! + +Paralyzed, I stared at the edges of the thing. They were waving almost +imperceptibly up and down, _creeping_! + +The mounds were living creatures! Acres and acres of them lying +lethargically on the bottom waiting for something to crawl within range +of their monstrous edges! + +Involuntarily I pressed the key to raise us. But we had gone only a few +feet when the Professor called to me. + +"Down again, Martin. I don't think these things will bother us unless we +scrape against them. Anyway they can't hurt the shell." + +I lowered the ball to our former twenty-foot level, and there we swung +just over the monsters' backs. + + * * * * * + +The Professor had said that the giant inverted saucers would probably +not bother us if we did not come in contact with them. It soon became +apparent that, in a measure, he was right. The creatures either could +not or would not lift their enormous bulks from the sea floor. + +A gigantic wriggling thing, all grotesque fringe and tentacles, drifted +down into the range of our light. Lower it floated until it hovered just +above one of the larger mounds. The Professor got its portrait. At the +same instant, as though it had heard the click of the shutter and been +frightened by it, the thing dropped another foot--and touched the +sloping back. + +With the speed of light the inverted saucer became a cup. Like a +clenching fist, the cup closed over one of the straggling tentacles. + +There followed a tug of war that was all the more ghastly for its +soundlessness. The hunted jerked spasmodically to get away from the +hunter. So wild were its efforts that several times it raised the +monster clear of the bottom for a foot or so. But the grim clutch could +not be broken. + +Closer and closer it was dragged. Then, after a supreme paroxysm, the +tentacle parted and the prey escaped. The tentacle disappeared into the +mass of the baffled hunter. It made no attempt to follow the fleeing +creature. It slowly relaxed along the bottom and waited for its next +meal. + +The unearthly incident gave us fresh confidence, convincing us that the +monsters did not move unless they were directly touched. Of course we +could not foresee the fatal accident that was going to put us within +reach of one of the giant saucers. + + * * * * * + +We thought for awhile that these great blobs of cold life were the +largest creatures of the depths. It was soon made clear to us how +mistaken that notion was! + +For a time we gazed spellbound at the nightmare assortment of +grotesqueries that gradually assembled around us, attracted no doubt by +our light. The things were mainly sightless and of indescribable shape. +Most of them were phosphorescent, and they avoided collisions in a way +that suggested that they had some buried sense of light perception. + +As time passed the Professor emptied his camera, refilled it several +times and groaned that he had no more film. Twice as we drifted along I +raised us to keep us clear of a gradual upward slope of the smooth +floor. + +Stanley removed his mouthpiece long enough to suggest that we go back to +the surface: we had been submerged for nearly four hours now. But before +we could reply a violent movement was felt. + +The ball rocked and twirled so that we were forced to cling to the +circular bench to avoid being thrown to the floor. It was as though a +hurricane of wind had suddenly penetrated the unruffled depths. + +"Earthquake?" called Stanley. + +"Don't know," answered the Professor. He swung the searchlight in an arc +and focussed it at length on something that appeared only as a field of +blurred movement. He wiped the moisture from the wall before the lens, +and there was revealed to us a sight that makes my heart pound even now +when I recall it to memory. + +Something vast and serpentine had ventured too near the bottom--and had +been caught by the death traps there! + +The creature was a writhing mass of gigantic coils. It was impossible +even to guess at its length, but its girth was such that the +mound-shaped monsters that had fastened to it could not entirely +encircle it. + +There it twined and knotted: a mighty serpent of the deepest ocean, +snapping its awful length and threshing its powerful tail in an effort +to dislodge the giant leeches that were flattened against it. And every +time it touched the bottom in its blind frenzy, more of the teeming +deathtraps attached themselves to it, crawling over their fellows in an +effort to find unoccupied areas. + + * * * * * + +Soon the sea-serpent was a distorted, creeping mass. For one appalling +instant its head came into our view.... + +It resembled the head of a crocodile, only it was ten times larger and +covered with scale like the armor plate of a destroyer. The jaws, wide +open and slashing with enormous, needle-shaped teeth at the huge +parasites, were large enough to have held our glass sphere. One eye +appeared. It was at least three feet across and of a shimmering amethyst +color. + +One of the deadly saucers wrapped itself around the great head. The +entire mass of attackers and attacked settled slowly to the bottom. + +But before it completely succumbed the beaten monster gave one last, +convulsive flick of its tail.... + +"Good God!" cried Stanley, shrinking away from the pump and staring +upward. + +I followed his gaze with my own eyes. + +In the faint reflected glow of the searchlight I could see row on row of +large cups flattened against the top of the ball. As I watched these +flattened still more and the big sphere quivered perceptibly. + +In its death struggle the mighty serpent had flicked one of the huge +leeches against us. It now clung there with blind tenacity, covering +nearly two-thirds of our shell with the underside of its body. + +I reached for the control key to send us to the surface. + +"Don't!" snapped the Professor. "The weight--" + +He needed to say no more. My hand recoiled as though the key had been +red hot. + +The three-quarter-inch cable above us was now sustaining, in addition to +its own huge weight, our massive glass ball and the appalling tonnage +of this grim blanket of flesh that encircled us. Could it further hold +against the strain of lifting that combined tonnage through the press of +the water? Almost certainly it could not! + +There was nothing we could do but hang there and discover at first hand +exactly what happened to things that were clamped in those mighty, +living vises! + + * * * * * + +The Professor turned on the interior bulb. The result was ghastly. It +showed every detail of the belly of the thing that gripped us. + +Crowded over its entire under surface were gristly, flattened suckers. +Now and then a convulsive ripple ran through its surface tissue and +great ridges of flesh stood out. With each squeeze the glass shell +quivered ominously as though the extreme limit of its pressure resisting +power were being reached--and passed. + +"A nice fix," remarked the Professor, his calm, dry voice acting like a +tonic in that moment of fear. "If we try to go up, the cable would +probably break. If we try to outlast the patience of this thing we might +run out of air, or actually be staved in." + +He paused thoughtfully. + +"I suggest, though, that we follow the latter course for awhile at +least. It would be just too bad if that cable broke, gentlemen!" + +Stanley shuddered, and looked at the dirty white belly that pressed +against the glass walls on all sides. + +"I vote we stay here for a time." + +"And I," was my addition. + +I relieved Stanley at the pump. He and the Professor sat down on the +bench. Casting frequent glances at the constricted blanket of flesh that +covered us, we prepared to wait as composedly as we might for the thing +to give up its effort to smash our shell. + + * * * * * + +The hour that followed was longer than any full day I have ever lived +through. Had I not confirmed the passage of time by looking at my +watch, I would have sworn that at least twenty hours had passed. + +Every half-minute I gazed at that weaving pattern of cup-shaped suckers +only five feet away, trying to see if they were relaxing in their +pressure. I attempted to persuade myself that they were. But I knew I +was only imagining it. Actually they were pressed as flat as ever, and +the sphere still quivered at regular intervals as the heavy body +squeezed in on itself. There was no sign that its blind, mindless +patience was becoming exhausted. + +There was little conversation during that interminable hour. + +Stanley grinned wryly once and commented on the creature's +disappointment if it actually succeeded in getting at us. + +"We'd be scattered all over the surrounding half mile by the pressure of +the water," he said. "There'd be nothing left for our pet to feed on but +five-foot chunks of broken glass. Not a very satisfying meal." + +"We might try to reason with the thing--point out how foolish it is to +waste its time on us," I suggested, trying to appear as nonchalant as he +was. + +The Professor said nothing. He was coolly writing in his notebook, +describing minutely the appearance of our abysmal captor. + +Finally I chanced to look down through a section of wall not covered by +our stubborn enemy. I wiped the moisture from the glass before the +searchlight so that I could see more clearly. + + * * * * * + +The bottom seemed to be heaving up and down. I blinked my eyes and +looked again. It was not an illusion. With a regular dip and rise we +were approaching to within a few feet of the rocky floor and moving back +up again. Also we were floating faster than at anytime previous. The +bottom was bare again; we had left the crowding, ominous mounds. + +I waved to the Professor. He snapped his notebook shut and stared at the +uneasy ocean bottom. + +"I've been hoping I was wrong," he said simply. "I thought I felt a wavy +motion fifteen minutes ago, and it seemed to me to increase steadily." + +The three of us stared at each other. + +"You mean ..." began Stanley with a shudder. + +"I mean that the _Rosa_, one mile above us, is having difficulties. A +storm. Judging from our movement it must be a hurricane: the length of +cable would cushion us from any average wave, and we are rising and +falling at least fifteen feet." + +"My God!" groaned Stanley. "The _Rosa_ is already heeled with the weight +of us. She could never weather a hurricane!" + +The plight of the crew above our heads was as clear to us as though we +had been aboard with them. + +Should they cut the cable, figuring that the lives of the three of us +were certainly not to be set against the thirty on the yacht? + +Should they disconnect the electric control and try to haul us up +regardless? + +Or should they try to ride out the storm in spite of being crippled by +the drag of us? + +"I think if I were up there I'd cut us adrift," said Stanley grimly. +Both the Professor and myself nodded. "Though," he added hopefully, "my +captain is a good gambler...." + + * * * * * + +The cable quivered like a live thing under the terrific strain. At each +downward swoop, before the upswing began, there was a sickening sag. + +"We no longer have a decision to make," said the Professor. "Press the +key, Martin, and God grant we can rise with all this dead weight." + +And at that instant the crew of the _Rosa_ were also relieved of the +necessity for making a decision. + +At the bottom of one of those long, sickening falls there was a +jerk--and we continued on down to the ocean floor! + +The sphere rolled over, jumbling the equipment in a tangled mess with +the three of us in the center, bruised and cut. The light snapped off as +the battery connections were torn loose. + +There we lay at the bottom of Penguin Deep, in an inert sphere that was +dead and dark in the surrounding blackness--a coffin of glass to hold us +through the centuries.... + + * * * * * + +"Martin," I heard the Professor's voice after a time. "Stanley--can +either of you move? I'm caught." + +"I'm caught, too," came Stanley's gasping answer. "Something on my +leg--feels like it's broken." + +A heavy object was pressing across my body. With an effort I freed +myself and fumbled in the pitch darkness for the other two. + +"Lights first," commanded the Professor. "The pump, you know." + +I did know! Frantically I scrambled in the dark till I located the +batteries. They were right side up and still wired together. + +The air grew rapidly foul with no one at the pump. Panting for breath I +blundered at the task of connecting the light. After what seemed an +eternity I accomplished it. + +The light revealed Stanley with an air tank lying across his leg. The +mouthpiece of his breathing tube had been forced back over his head, +gashing his face in its journey. His face was white with pain. + +The Professor was caught under the heavy bench. I freed him and together +we attended to Stanley, finding that his leg wasn't broken but only +badly bruised. + +The mound-shaped monster, dislodged possibly by the fall, was nowhere to +be seen. + +I resumed work at the pump, the connections of which were so strongly +contrived that they had withstood the shock of the upset. + +For a moment we were content to rest while the air grew purer. Then we +were forced squarely to face our fate. + + * * * * * + +The Professor summed up the facts in a few concise words. + +"We're certainly doomed! Here at the bottom of Penguin Deep we're as out +of reach of help as though we were stranded on the moon. We're as good +as dead right now." + +"If we have nothing left to hope for," whispered Stanley after a time, +"we might as well close the air valves and get it over with at once. No +use torturing ourselves...." + +The Professor moistened his lips. + +"It might be wise." He turned to me. "What's your opinion, Martin?" + +But I--I confess I had not the stark courage of these two. + +"No! No!" I cried out. "Let's keep on living as long as the air holds +out. Something might happen--" + +I avoided their eyes as I said it, utterly ashamed of my cowardly +quibbling with death. What in the name of God could possibly happen to +help us? + +The Professor shrugged dully, and nodded. + +"I feel with Stanley that we ought to get it over in one short stab. But +we have no right to force you...." His voice trailed off. + +We readjusted our mouthpieces. I turned automatically at the pump; and +we silently awaited the last suffocating moment of our final doom. + + * * * * * + +As before, attracted by the light, a strange assortment of deep-sea life +wriggled and darted about us, swimming lazily among the looped coils and +twists of our cable which had settled down around us. + +Among these were certain fish that resembled great porcupines. Spines a +foot and a half long, like living knife blades, protected them from the +attacks of other species. + +They were the only things we saw that were not constantly writhing away +from the jaws of some hostile monster--the only things that seemed able +to swim about their own affairs without even deigning to watch for +danger. + +Fascinated, I watched the six-foot creatures. Here were we, reasoning +humans, supposed lords of creation, slowly but surely perishing--while +only a few feet away one of the lowest forms of life could exist in +perfect safety and tranquility! + +Then, as I watched them, I seemed to see a difference in some of them. + +The majority of them had two fins just behind the gill slits, typical +fish tails and blunt, sloping heads. But now and then I saw a spined +monster that was queerly unlike its fellows. + +Instead of two front fins, these unique ones had two vacant round holes. +The head looked as though it had forgotten to grow; its place was taken +by an eyeless, projecting, shield shaped cap. And there was no tail. + +Glad to find something to distract my half crazed thoughts, I studied +the nearest of these. + +They moved slower than their tailed and finned brothers, I noticed. I +wondered how they could move at all, lacking in any kind of motive power +as they seemed to be. + +Next instant the secret of their movement was made clear! + + * * * * * + +Out of the empty fin holes of the creature I was studying crept two +long, powerful looking tentacles. But these were not true tentacles. +There were no vacuum discs on them, and they moved as though supported +by jointed bones--like arms. + +The arms ended in flat paddles that resembled hands. These threshed the +water in a sort of breast-stroke, propelling the body forward. + +Shortly after the arms had appeared, the spiny head cap was cautiously +extended a few inches forward from the main shell. Further it was +extended as the head of a turtle might slowly appear from the protection +of its bony case. And under it-- + +"Professor!" I screamed wildly. "My God! Look!" + +Both the Professor and Stanley merely stared dully at me. I babbled of +what I had seen. + +"A man! A human looking thing, anyway! Arms and a head! A man inside a +fish's spined hide--like armor!" + +They looked pityingly at me. The Professor laid his hand on my shoulder. + +"Now, now," he soothed, "don't go to pieces--" + +"I tell you I saw it!" I shouted. Then, shrinking from the hysterical +loudness of my own voice, I lowered my tone. "Something that looks human +has occupied some of those prickly, six-foot shells. I saw arms--and a +man's head! I swear it!" + +"Nonsense! How could a human being stand the cold, the pressure--" + +Here I happened to glance at the wall of the shell through which the +searchlight shone. + +"Look! See for yourself!" + + * * * * * + +Squarely in the rays of the light showed a head, projecting from one of +the shells and capped with a wide flat helmet of horned bone. + +There were eyes and nose and mouth placed on one side of that head--a +face! There were even tabs of flesh or bony protuberances that resembled +ears. + +"Curious," muttered the Professor, staring. "It certainly looks human +enough to talk. But it's only a fish, nevertheless. See--in the throat +are gill slits." + +"But the eyes! Look at them! They're not the eyes of a fish!" + +And they were not. There was in them a light of reason, of intelligence. +Those eyes were roaming brightly over us, observing the light, the +equipment, seeming to note our amazement as we crowded to look at it. + +The sphere rocked slightly. Behind the staring, manlike visitor there +was a glimpse of enormous, crocodile jaws and huge, amethyst eyes. +Instantly the head and arms receded, leaving an empty-seeming, lifeless +shell. An impregnable fortress of spines, the thing drifted slowly away +through the twisted loops of cable. + +"It certainly looked like--" began Stanley shakily. + +"The creature was just a fish," said the Professor shaking his head at +the light in Stanley's eyes. "Some sort of giant parasite that inhabits +the shells of other fish." + +He opened the valve of the last air cylinder and seated himself +resignedly on the bench. + +"We have another half hour or so--" + +All of us suddenly put out our hands to brace ourselves. The sphere had +moved. + +"Look at the cable!" called Stanley. + +We did so. It was moving, writhing away from us over the bottom as +though abruptly given life of its own. Coil after coil disappeared into +the further gloom. + +At length the cable was straight. The ball moved again--was dragged a +few feet along the rocky floor. + +Something--possessed of incredibly vast power--had seized the end of the +steel cable and was reeling us in as a fisherman reels in a trout! + + * * * * * + +Slowly, unsteadily, we slid along the ocean floor. Ahead of us appeared +a jagged black wall--a cliff. There was a gloomy hole at its base. +Toward this we were being dragged by whatever it was that had caught the +end of the cable. + +Helpless, we watched ourselves engulfed by the murky den. In the beam of +the searchlight we saw that the submarine cavern extended on and on for +an unguessable depth. The cable, taut with the strain, stretched ahead +out of sight. + +Time had been lost track of during that mysterious, ominous journey. It +was recalled to us by the state of the air we were breathing. + +The Professor removed his mouthpiece and cast the tube aside. + +"You might as well stop pumping, Martin," he said quietly. "We're done. +There's no more air in the flask." + +We stared at each other. Then we shook hands, solemnly, tremulously, +taking leave of each other before we departed on that longest of all +journeys.... + +The air in that small space was rapidly exhausted. We lay on the floor, +laboring for breath, and closed our eyes.... + +The Professor, the oldest of the three of us, succumbed first. I heard +his breath whistle stertorously and, glancing at him, saw that he was in +a coma. In a moment Stanley had joined him in blessed unconsciousness. + +I could feel myself drifting off.... Hammers beat at my ears.... Daggers +pierced my heaving lungs.... + +Hazily I could see scores of the bristly, manlike fish when I opened my +eyes and glanced through the walls. It was not one monster then, but +many that had brought us to their lair. Abruptly, as though a signal had +been given, they all streamed back toward the mouth of the cavern.... + +My eyesight dimmed.... The hammers pulsed louder.... A veil descended +over my senses and I knew no more.... + + * * * * * + +A soft, sustained roar came to my ears. Through my closed eyelids I +could sense light. A dank, fishy smell came to my nostrils. + +I groaned and moved feebly, finding that I was resting on something soft +and pleasant. + +Dazedly I opened my eyes and sat up. An exclamation burst from me as I +suddenly remembered what had gone before, and realized that somehow, +incredibly, I was still living. + +Feeling like a man who has waked from a nightmarish sleep to find +himself in his tomb, I gazed about. + +I was in a long, lofty rock chamber, the uneven floor of which was +covered with shallow pools of water. The further end was of +smooth-grained stone that resembled cement. The near end was rough like +the walls; but in it there was a small, symmetrical arch, the mouth of a +passage leading away to some other point in the bowels of the earth. + +The place was flooded with clear light that had a rosy tinge. From my +position on the floor I could not see what made the light. It streamed +from a crevice that extended clear around the cave parallel with the +floor and about twelve feet above it. From this groove, along with the +light, came the soft roaring hiss. + +Beside me was the glass ball, the cover off and lying a few feet away +from the opening in the top. There was no trace of Stanley or the +Professor. + +I rose from my couch, a thick, mattresslike affair of soft, pliant hide, +and walked feebly toward the small arch in the near end of the cave. + +Even as I approached it I heard footsteps, and voices resounded in some +slurring, musical language. Half a dozen figures suddenly came into +view. + +They were men, as human as myself! Indeed, as I gazed at them, I felt +inclined to think they were even more human! + + * * * * * + +They were magnificent specimens. The smallest could not have been less +than six feet three, and all of them were muscular and finely +proportioned. Their faces were arresting in their expression of calm +strength and kindliness. They looked like gods, arrayed in soft, thick, +beautifully tanned hides in this rosy tinted hole a mile below the +ocean's top. + +They stared at me for an instant, then advanced toward me. My face must +have reflected alarm, for the tallest of them held up his hand, palm +outward, in a peaceful gesture. + +The leader spoke to me. Of course the slurred, melodious syllable meant +nothing to me. He smiled and indicated that I was to follow him. I did +so, hardly aware of what I was doing, my brain reeling in an attempt to +grasp the situation. + +How marvelous, how utterly incredible, to find human beings here! How +many were there? Where had they come from? How had they salvaged us from +Penguin Deep? I gave it up, striding along with my towering guards like +a man walking in his sleep. + +At length the low passageway ended, and I exclaimed aloud at what I saw. + +I was looking down a long avenue of buildings, all three stories in +height. There were large door and window apertures, but no doors nor +window panes. In front of each house was a small square with--wonder of +wonders!--a lawn of whitish yellow vegetation that resembled grass. In +some of the lawns were set artistic fountains of carved rock. + +I might have been looking down any prosperous earthly subdivision, save +for the fact that the roofs of the houses were the earth itself, which +the building walls, in addition to functioning as partitions, served to +support. Also earthly subdivisions aren't usually illuminated with rosy +light that comes softly roaring from jets set in the walls. + + * * * * * + +We were walking toward a more brightly lighted area that showed ahead of +us. On the way we passed intersections where other, similar streets +branched geometrically away to right and left. These were smaller than +the one we were on, indicating that ours was Main Street in this bizarre +submarine city. + +Faces appeared at door and window openings to peer at me as we passed. +And even in that jumbled moment I had time to realize that these folk +could restrain curiosity better than we can atop the earth. There was no +hub-bub, no running out to tag after the queerly dressed foreigner and +shout humorous remarks at him. + +We approached the bright spot I had noticed from afar. It was an open +square, about a city block in area, in the center of which was a royal +looking building covered with blazing fragments of crystal and so +brilliantly resplendent with light that it seemed to glow at the heart +of a pink fire. + +I was led toward this and in through a wide doorway. As courteously as +though I were a visiting king, I was conducted up a great staircase, +down a corridor set with more of the sparkling crystals and into a huge, +low room. There my escort bowed and left me. + + * * * * * + +Still feeling that I could not possibly be awake and seeing actual +things, I glanced around. + +In a corner was another of the mattresslike couches made of the thick, +soft hide that seemed to be the principal fabric of the place. A few +feet away was a table set with dishes of food in barbaric profusion. +None of the viands looked familiar but all appealed to the appetite. The +floor was strewn with soft skins, and comfortable, carved benches were +scattered about. + +I walked to the window and looked out. Underneath was a plot of the +cream colored grass through which ran a tiny stream. This widened at +intervals into clear pools beside which were set stone benches. A +hundred yards away was the edge of the square, where the regular, three +storied houses began. + +While I was staring at this unearthly vista, still unable to think with +any coherence. I heard my name called. I turned to face Stanley and the +Professor. + + * * * * * + +Both were pale in the rose light, and Stanley limped with the pain of +his bruised leg: but both had recovered from their partial suffocation +as completely as had I. + +"We thought perhaps you'd decided to swim back up to the _Rosa_ and +leave us to our fates," said Stanley after we had stopped pumping each +other's arms and had seated ourselves. + +"And I thought--well, I didn't think much of anything," I replied. "I +was too busy straining my eyesight over the wonders of this city. Did +you ever see anything like it?" + +"We haven't seen it at all, save for a view from the windows," said +Stanley. "All we know of the place is that a while ago we woke up in a +room like this, only much smaller and less lavish. I wonder why you rate +this distinction?" + +I described the streets as I had seen them. (It is impossible for me to +think of them as anything but streets; it would seem as though the rock +roof over all would give the appearance of a series of tunnels; but I +had always the impression of airiness and openness.) + +"Light and heat are furnished by natural gas," said the Professor when I +remarked on the perfection of these two necessities. "That's what makes +the low roaring noise--the thousands of burning jets. But the presence +of gas here isn't as unusual as the presence of air. Where does that +come from? Through wandering underground mazes, from some cave mouth in +the Fiji Islands to the north? That would indicate that all the earth +around here is honeycombed like a gigantic section of sponge. I +wonder--" + +"Have you any idea how we were rescued?" I interrupted, a little +impatient of his abstract scientific ponderings. + +"We have," said Stanley. "A woman told us. We woke up to find her +nursing us--gorgeous looking thing--finest woman I've ever seen, and +I've seen a good many--" + +"She didn't exactly 'tell' us," remarked the Professor with his thin +smile. Women were only interesting to him as biological studies. "She +drew a diagram that explained it. + +"That tunnel, Martin, was like the outer diving chamber of a submarine. +We were hauled in on a big windlass--driven by gas turbines, I think. +Once we were inside, a twenty-yard, counterbalanced wall of rock was +lowered across the entrance. Then the water was drained out through a +well, and into a subterranean body of water that extends under the +entire city. And here we are." + +We fell silent. Here we were. But what was going to happen to us among +these friendly-seeming people; and how--if ever--we were going to get +back to the earth's surface, were questions we could not even try to +answer. + + * * * * * + +We ate of the appetizing food laid out on the long table. Shortly +afterward we heard steps in the corridor outside the room. + +A woman entered. She was ravishingly beautiful, tall, slender but +symmetrically rounded. A soft leather robe slanted upward across her +breast to a single shoulder fastening and ended just above her knees in +a skirt arrangement. Around her head was a regal circlet of silvery gray +metal with a flashing bit of crystal set in the center above her broad, +low forehead. + +She smiled at Stanley who looked dazzled and smiled eagerly back. + +She pointed toward the door, signifying that we were to go with her. We +did so; and were led down the great staircase and to a huge room that +took up half the ground floor of the building. And here we met the +nobility of the little kingdom--the upper class that governed the +immaculate little city. + +They were standing along the walls, leaving a lane down the center of +the room--tall, finely modelled men and women dressed in the single +garments of soft leather. There were people there with gray hair and +wisdom wrinkled faces; but all were alike in being erect of body, firm +of bearing and in splendid health. + +They stopped talking as we entered the big room. Our gaze strayed ahead +down the lane toward the further wall. + +Here was a raised dais. On it was a gleaming crystal encrusted throne. +And occupying it was the most queenly, exquisitely beautiful woman I +had ever dreamed about. + + * * * * * + +Woman? She was just a girl in years in spite of her grave and royal air. +Her eyes were deep violet. Her hair was black as ebony and gleaming with +sudden glints of light. Her skin-- + +But she cannot be described. Only a great painter could give a hint of +her glory. Too, I might truthfully be described as prejudiced about her +perfections. + +The Queen, for patently she was that, bowed graciously at us. It seemed +to me--though I told myself that I was an imaginative fool--that her +eyes rested longest on me, and had in them an expression not granted to +the Professor or Stanley. + +She spoke to us a melodious sentence or two, and waved her beautiful +hand in which was a short ivory wand, evidently a scepter. + +"She's probably giving us the keys to the city," whispered Stanley. He +edged nearer the fair one who had conducted us. "I sincerely hope +there's room here for us." + +The open lane closed in on us. Men and women crowded about us speaking +to us and smiling ruefully as they realized we could not understand. I +noticed that, for some curious reason, they seemed fascinated by the +color of my hair. Red-haired men were evidently scarce there. + +At length the beauty who had so captured Stanley's fancy, and who seemed +to have been appointed a sort of mentor for us, suggested in sign +language that we might want to return to our quarters. + +It was a welcome suggestion. We were done in by the experiences and +emotions that had gripped us since leaving the _Rosa_ such an incredibly +few hours ago. + +We went back to the second floor. I to my luxurious big apartment and +Stanley and the Professor to their smaller but equally comfortable +rooms. + + * * * * * + +A pleasant period slid by, every waking hour of which was filled with +new experiences. + +The city's name, we found, was Zyobor. It was a perfect little +community. There were artisans and thinkers, artists and laborers--all +alike in being physically perfect beyond belief and cultured as no race +on top the ground is cultured. + +As we began to learn the language, more exact details of the practical +methods of existence were revealed to us. + +The surrounding earth furnished them with building materials, metals and +unlimited gas. The sea, so near us and yet so securely walled away, gave +them food. Which warrants a more detailed description. + +We were informed that the manlike, two-armed fishes were the servants of +these people--domesticated animals, in a sense, only of an extremely +high order of intelligence. They were directed by mental telepathy +(Every man, woman and child in Zyobor was skilled at thought projection. +They conversed constantly, from end to end of the city, by mental +telepathy.) + +Protected in their spined shells, which they captured from the schools +of porcupine fish that swarmed in Penguin Deep, they gathered sea +vegetation from the higher levels and trapped sea creatures. These were +brought into the subterranean chamber where our glass ball now reposed. +Then the chamber was emptied of water and the food was borne to the +city. + +The vast army of mound-fish provided the bulk of the population's food, +and also furnished the thick, pliant skin they used for clothing and +drapes. They were cultivated as we cultivate cattle--an ominous herd, to +be handled with care and approached by the fish-servants with due +caution. + +Thus, with all reasonable wants satisfied, with talent and brains to +design beautiful surroundings, lighted and warmed by inexhaustible +natural gas, these fortunate beings lived their sheltered lives in +their rosy underground world. + +At least I thought their lives were sheltered then. It was only later, +when talking to the beautiful young Queen, that I learned of the dread +menace that had begun to draw near to them just a short time before we +were rescued.... + + * * * * * + +My first impression, when we had entered the throne room that first day, +that the Queen had regarded me more intently than she had Stanley or the +Professor, had been right. It pleased her to treat me as an equal, and +to give me more of her time than was granted to any other person in the +city. + +Every day, for a growing number of hours, we were together in her +apartment. She personally instructed me in the language, and such was my +desire to talk to this radiant being that I made an apt pupil. + +Soon I had progressed enough to converse with her--in a stilted, +incorrect way--on all but the most abstract of subjects. It was a fine +language. I liked it, as I liked everything else about Zyobor. The upper +earth seemed far away and well forgotten. + +Her name, I found, was Aga. A beautiful name.... + +"How did your kingdom begin?" I asked her one day, while we were sitting +beside one of the small pools in the gardens. We were close together. +Now and then my shoulder touched hers, and she did not draw away. + +"I know not," she replied. "It is older than any of our ancient records +can say. I am the three hundred and eleventh of the present reigning +line." + +"And we are the first to enter thy realm from the upper world?" + +"Thou art the first." + +"There is no other entrance but the sea-way into which we were drawn?" + +"There is no other entrance." + + * * * * * + +I was silent, trying to realize the finality of my residence here. + +At the moment I didn't care much if I never got home! + +"In the monarchies we know above," I said finally, avoiding her violet +eyes, "it is not the custom for the queen--or king--to reign alone. A +consort is chosen. Is it not so here? Has thou not, among thy nobles, +some one thou hast destined--" + +I stopped, feeling that if she dismissed me in anger and never spoke to +me again the punishment would be just. + +But she wasn't angry. A lovely tide of color stained her cheeks. Her +lips parted, and she turned her head. For a long time she said nothing. +Then she faced me, with a light in her eyes that sent the blood racing +in my veins. + +"I have not yet chosen," she murmured. "Mayhap soon I shall tell thee +why." + +She rose and hurried back toward the palace. But at the door she +paused--and smiled at me in a way that had nothing whatever to do with +queenship. + + * * * * * + +As the time sped by the three of us settled into the routine of the city +as though we had never known of anything else. + +The Professor spent most of his time down by the sea chamber where the +food was dragged in by the intelligent servant-fish. + +He was in a zoologist's paradise. Not a creature that came in there had +ever been catalogued before. He wrote reams of notes on the parchment +paper used by the citizens in recording their transactions. Particularly +was he interested in the vast, lowly mound-fish. + +One time, when I happened to be with him, the receding waters of the +chamber disclosed the body of one of the odd herdsmen of these deep sea +flocks. Then the Professor's elation knew no bounds. We hurried forward +to look at it. + +"It is a typical fish," puzzled the Professor when we had cut the body +out of its usurped armor. "Cold blooded, adapted to the chill and +pressure of the deeps. There are the gills I observed before ... yet it +looks very human." + +It surely did. There were the jointed arms, and the rudimentary hands. +Its forehead was domed; and the brain, when dissected, proved much +larger than the brain of a true fish. Also its bones were not those of a +mammal, but the cartilagenous bones of a fish. It was not quite six feet +long; just fitted the horny shell. + +"But its intelligence!" fretted the Professor, glorying in his inability +to classify this marvelous specimen. "No fish could ever attain such +mental development. Evolution working backward from human to reptile and +then fish--or a new freak of evolution whereby a fish on a short cut +toward becoming human?" He sighed and gave it up. But more reams of +notes were written. + +"Why do you take them?" I asked. "No one but yourself will ever see +them." + + * * * * * + +He looked at me with professorial absent-mindedness. + +"I take them for the fun of it, principally. But perhaps, sometime, we +may figure out a way of getting them up. My God! Wouldn't my learned +brother scientists be set in an uproar!" + +He bent to his observations and dissections again, cursing now and then +at the distortion suffered by the specimens when they were released from +the deep sea pressure and swelled and burst in the atmospheric pressure +in the cave. + +Stanley was engrossed in a different way. Since the moment he laid eyes +on her, he had belonged to the stately woman who had first nursed him +back to consciousness. Mayis was her name. + +From shepherding the three of us around Zyobor and explaining its +marvels to us, she had taken to exclusive tutorship of Stanley. And +Stanley fairly ate it up. + +"You, the notorious woman hater," I taunted him one time, "the wary +bachelor--to fall at last. And for a woman of another world--almost of +another planet! I'm amazed!" + +"I don't know why you should be amazed," said he stiffly. + +"You've been telling me ever since I was a kid that women were all +useless, all alike--" + +"I find I was mistaken," he interrupted. "They aren't all alike. There's +only one Mayis. She is--different." + +"What do you talk about all the time? You're with her constantly." + +"I'm not with her any more than you're with the Queen," he shot back at +me. "What do you find to talk about?" + +That shut me up. He went to look for Mayis; and I wandered to the royal +apartments in search of Aga. + + * * * * * + +In the first days of our friendship I had several times surprised in +Aga's eyes a curious expression, one that seemed compounded of despair, +horror and resignation. + +I had seen that same expression in the eyes of the nobles of late, and +in the faces of all the people I encountered in the streets--who, I +mustn't forget to add here, never failed to treat me with a deference +that was as intoxicating as it was inexplicable. + +It was as though some terrible fate hovered over the populace, some +dreadful doom about which nothing could be done. No one put into words +any fears that might confirm that impression; but continually I got the +idea that everybody there went about in a state of attempting to live +normally and happily while life was still left--before some awful, +wholesale death descended on them. + +At last, from Aga, I learned the fateful reason. + +But first--a confession that was hastened by the knowledge of the fate +of the city--I learned from her something that changed all of life for +me. + + * * * * * + +We were surrounded by the luxury of her private apartment. We sat on a +low divan, side by side. I wanted, more than anything I had ever wanted +before, to put my arms around her. But I dared not. One does not make +love easily to a queen, the three hundred and eleventh of a proud line. + +And then, as maids have done often in all countries, and, perhaps, on +all planets, she took the initiative herself. + +"We have a curious custom in Zyobor of which I have not yet told thee," +she murmured. "It concerns the kings of Zyobor. The color of their +hair." + +She glanced up at my own carrot-top, and then averted her gaze. + +"For all of our history our kings have had--red hair. On the few +occasions when the line has been reduced to a lone queen, as in my case, +the red-haired men of the kingdom have striven together in public combat +to determine which was most powerful and brave. The winner became the +Queen's consort." + +"And in this case?" I asked, my heart beginning to pound madly. + +"In my case, my lord, there is to be no--no striving. When I was a child +our only two red-haired males died, one by accident, one by sickness. +Now there are none others but infants, none of eligible age. But--by a +miracle--thou--" + +She stopped; then gazed up at me from under long, gold flecked lashes. + +"I was afraid ... I was doomed to die ... alone...." + + * * * * * + +It was after I had replied impetuously to this, that she told me of the +terror that was about to engulf all life in the beautiful undersea city. + +"Thou hast wonder, perhaps, why I should be forward enough to tell thee +this instead of waiting for thine own confession first," she faltered. +"Know, then--the reason is the shortness of the time we are fated to +spend together. We shall belong each to the other only a little while. +Then shall we belong to death! And I--when I knew the time was to be so +brief--" + +And I listened with growing horror to her account of the enemy that was +advancing toward us with every passing moment. + + * * * * * + +About twenty miles away, in the lowest depression of Penguin Deep, lived +a race of monsters which the people of Aga's city called Quabos. + +The Quabos were grim beings that were more intelligent than Aga's +fish-servants--even, she thought, more intelligent than humans +themselves. They had existed in their dark hole, as far as the Zyobites +knew, from the beginning of time. + +Through the countless centuries they had constructed for themselves a +vast series of dens in the rock. There they had hidden away from the +deep-sea dangers. They, too, preyed on the mound-fish; but as there was +plenty of food for all, the Zyobites had never paid much attention to +them. + +But--just before we had appeared, there had come about a subterranean +quake that changed the entire complexion of matters in Penguin Deep. + +The earthquake wiped out the elaborately burrowed sea tunnels of the +Quabos, killing half of them at a blow and driving the rest out into the +unfriendly openness of the deep. + +Now this was fatal to them. They were not used to physical self defense. +During the thousands of years of residence in their sheltered burrows +they had become utterly unable to exist when exposed to the primeval +dangers of the sea. It was as though the civilization-softened citizens +of New York should suddenly be set down in a howling wilderness with +nothing but their bare hands with which to contrive all the necessities +of a living. + + * * * * * + +Such was the situation at the time Stanley, the Professor and myself +arrived in Zyobor. + +The Quabos must find an immediate haven or perish. On the ocean bottom +they were threatened by the mound-fish. In the higher levels they were +in danger from almost everything that swam: few things were so +defenceless as themselves after their long inertia. + +Their answer was Zyobor. There, in perfect security, only to be reached +by the diving chamber that could be sealed at will by the twenty-yard, +counterbalanced lock, the Quabos would be even more protected than in +their former runways. + +So--they were working day and night to invade Aga's city! + +"But Aga," I interrupted impulsively at this point. "If these monsters +are fishes, how could they live here in air--" + +I stopped as my objection answered itself before she could reply. + +They would not have to live in air to inhabit Zyobor. They would +inundate the city--flood that peaceful, beautiful place with the awful +pressure of the lowest depths! + +That thought, in turn, suggested to me that every building in Zyobor +would be swept flat if subjected suddenly to the rush of the sea. The +great low cavern, without the support of the myriad walls, would +probably collapse--trapping the invading Quabos and leaving the rest +without a home once more. + +But Aga answered this before I could voice it. + +The Quabos had foreseen that point. They were tunneling slowly but +surely toward the city from a point about half a mile from the diving +chamber. And as they advanced, they blocked up the passageway behind +them at intervals, drilled down to the great underground sea that lay +beneath all this section, and drained a little of the water away. + + * * * * * + +In this manner they lightened, bit by bit, the enormous weight of the +ocean depths. When the city was finally reached, not only would it be +ensured against sudden destruction but the Quabos themselves would have +become accustomed to the difference in pressure. Had they gone +immediately from the accustomed press of Penguin Deep into the +atmosphere of Zyobor, they would have burst into bits. As it was they +would be able to flood the city slowly, without injury to themselves. + +"Now thou knowest our fate," concluded Aga with a shudder. "Zyobor will +be a part of the great waters. We ourselves shall be food for these +monsters...." She faltered and stopped. + +"But this cannot be!" I exclaimed, clenching my fists impotently. "There +_must_ be something we can do; some way--" + +"There is nothing to be done. Our wisest men have set themselves +sleeplessly to the task of defence. There is no defence possible." + +"We can't simply sit here and wait! Your people are wonderful, but this +is no time for resignation. Send for my two friends, Aga. We will have a +council of war, we four, and see if we can find a way!" + +She shrugged despairfully, started to speak, then sent in quest of +Stanley and the Professor. + + * * * * * + +They as well as myself, had had no idea of the menace that crept nearer +us with each passing hour. They were dumbfounded, horrified to learn of +the peril. We sat awhile in silence, realizing our situation to the +full. + +Then the Professor spoke: + +"If only we could see what these things look like! It might help in +planning to defeat them." + +"That can be done with ease," said Aga. "Come." + +We went with her to the gardens and approached the nearest pool. + +"My fish-men are watching the Quabos constantly. They report to me by +telepathy whenever I send my thoughts their way. I will let you see, on +the pool, the things they are now seeing." + +She stared intently at the sheet of water. And gradually, as we watched, +a picture appeared--a picture that will never fade from my memory in any +smallest detail. + +The Quabos had huddled for protection into a large cave at the foot of +the cliff outside Zyobor. There were a great many Quabos, and the cave +was relatively confining. Now we saw, through the eyes of the spine +protected outpost of the Queen, these monstrous refugees crowded +together like sheep. + +The watery cavern was a creeping mass of viscous tentacles, enormous +staring eyes and globular heads. The cave was paved three deep with the +horrible things, and they were attached to the it walls and roof in +solid blocks. + +"My God!" whispered Stanley. "There are thousands of them!" + + * * * * * + +There were. And that they were in distress was evident. + +The layers on the floor were weaving and shifting constantly as the +bottom creatures struggled feebly to rise to the top of the mass and be +relieved of the weight of their brothers. Also they were famished.... + +One of the blood red, gigantic worms floated near the cave entrance. +Like lightning the nearest Quabos darted after it. In a moment the prey +was torn to bits by the ravenous monsters. + +The other side of the story was immediately portrayed to us. + +With the emerging of the reckless Quabos, a sea-serpent appeared from +above and snapped up three of their number. Evidently the huge serpent +considered them succulent tidbits, and made it its business to wait near +the cave and avail itself of just such rash chance-taking as this. + +While we watched the nightmare scene, a Quabo disengaged itself from the +parent mass and floated upward into the clear, giving us a chance to see +more distinctly what the creatures looked like. + +There was a black, shiny head as large as a sugar barrel. In this were +eyes the size of dinner plates, and gleaming with a cold, hellish +intelligence. Four long, twining tentacles were attached directly to +the head. Dotted along these were rudimentary sucker discs, that had +evidently become atrophied by the soft living of thousands of the +creature's ancestors. + +As though emerging from the pool into which we were gazing, the monster +darted viciously at us. At once it disappeared: the fish-servant through +whose eyes we were seeing all this had evidently retreated from the +approach; although, protected by its spines, it could not have been in +actual danger. + +"How dost thou know of the tunneling?" I asked Aga. "Thy fish-men cannot +be present there, in the rear of the tunnel, to report." + +"My artisans have knowledge of each forward move," she answered. "I will +show thee." + + * * * * * + +We walked back to the palace and descended to a smooth-lined vault. +There we saw a great stone shaft sunk down into the rock of the floor. +On this was a delicate vibration recording instrument of some sort, with +a needle that quivered rhythmically over several degrees of an arc. + +"This tells of each move of the Quabos," said Aga. "It also tells us +where they will break through the city wall. How near to us are they, +Kilor?" she asked an attendant who was studying the dial, and who had +bowed respectfully to Aga and myself as we approached. + +"They will break into the city in four rixas at the present rate of +advance, Your Majesty." + +Four rixas! In a little over sixteen days, as we count time, the city of +Zyobor would be delivered into the hands--or, rather, tentacles--of the +slimy, starving demons that huddled in the cavern outside! + +Somberly we followed Aga back to her apartment. + + * * * * * + +"As thou seest," she murmured, "there is nothing to be done. We can only +resign ourselves to the fate that nears us, and enjoy as much as may be +the few remaining rixas...." + +She glanced at me. + +The Professor's dry, cool voice cut across our wordless, engrossed +communion. + +"I don't think we'll give up quite as easily as all that. We can at +least try to outwit our enemies. If it does nothing else for us, the +effort can serve to distract our minds." + +He drew from his pocket a sheet of parchment and the stub of his last +remaining pencil. His fingers busied themselves apparently idly in the +tracing of geometric lines. + +"Looking ahead to the exact details of our destruction," he mused +coolly, "we see that our most direct and ominous enemy is the sea +itself. When the city is flooded, we drown--and later the Quabos can +enter at will." + +He drew a few more lines, and marked a cross at a point in the outer rim +of the diagram. + +"What will happen? The Quabos force through the last shell of the city +wall. The water from their tunnel floods into Zyobor. But--and mark me +well--_only_ the water from the tunnel! The outer end, remember, is +blocked off in their pressure-reducing process. The vast body of the sea +itself cannot immediately be let in here because the Quabos must take as +long a time to re-accustom themselves to its pressure as they did to +work out of it." + +He spread the parchment sheet before us. + +"Is this a roughly accurate plan of the city?" he asked Aga. + +She inclined her lovely head. + +"And this," indicating the cross, "is the spot where the Quabos will +break in?" + +Again she nodded, shuddering. + +"Then tell me what you think of this," said the Professor. + + * * * * * + +And he proceeded to sketch out a plan so simple, and yet so seemingly +efficient, that the rest of us gazed at him with wordless admiration. + +"My friend, my friend," whispered Aga at last, "thou hast saved us. +Thou art the guardian hero of Zyobor--" + +"Not too fast, Your Highness," interrupted the Professor with his frosty +smile. "I shall be much surprised if this little scheme actually saves +the city. We may find the rock so thick there that our task is +hopeless--though I imagine the Quabos picked a thin section for help in +their own plans." + +A vague look came into his eyes. + +"I must certainly get my hands on one of these monsters ... superhumanly +intelligent fish ... marvelous--akin to the octopus, perhaps?" + +He wandered off, changed from the resourceful schemer to the dreamy man +of scientific abstractions. + +The Queen gazed after him with wonder in her eyes. + +"A great man," she murmured, "but is he--a little mad?" + +"No, only a little absent-minded," I replied. Then, "Come on, Stanley. +We'll round up every able bodied citizen in Zyobor and get to work. I +suppose they have some kind of rock drilling machinery here?" + +They had. And they strangely resembled our own rock drills: revolving +metal shafts, driven by gas turbines, tipped with fragments of the same +crystal that glittered so profusely in the palace walls. Another proof +that practically every basic, badly needed tool had been invented again +and again, in all lands and times, as the necessity for it arose. + +With hundreds of the powerful men of Zyobor working as closely together +as they could without cramping each others movements, and with the whole +city resounding to the roar of the machinery, we labored at the defence +that might possibly check the advance of the hideous Quabos. + +And with every breath we drew, waking or sleeping, we realized that the +cold blooded, inhuman invaders had crept a fraction of an inch closer in +their tunneling. + +The Quabos against the Zyobites! Fish against man! Two diametrically +opposed species of life in a struggle to the death! Which of us would +survive? + + * * * * * + +The hour of the struggle approached. Every soul in Zyobor moved in a +daze, with strained face and fear haunted eyes. Their proficiency in +mental telepathy was a curse to them now: every one carried constantly, +transmitted from the brains of the servant-fish outposts, a thought +picture of that outer cavern in the murky depths of which writhed the +thousands of crowding Quabos. Each mind in Zyobor was in continual +torment. + +Spared that trouble, at least, Stanley and the Professor and I walked +down to the fortification we had so hastily contrived. It was finished. +And none too soon: the vibration indicator in the palace vault told us +that only two feet of rock separated us from the burrowing monsters! + +The Professor's scheme had been to cut a long slot down through the rock +floor of the city to the roof of the vast, mysterious body of water +below. + +This slot was placed directly in front of the spot in the city wall +where the Quabos were about to emerge. As they forced through the last +shell of rock, the deluge of water, instead of drowning the city, was +supposed to drain down the oblong vent. Any Quabos that were too near +the tunnel entrance would be swept down too. + + * * * * * + +In silence we approached the edge of the great trough and stared down. + +There was a stratum of black granite, fortunately only about thirty feet +thick at this point, and then--the depths! A low roar reached our ears +from far, far beneath us. A steady blast of ice cold air fanned up +against us. + +The Professor threw down a large fragment of rock. Seconds elapsed and +we heard no splash. The unseen surface was too far below for the noise +of the rock's fall to carry on up to us. + +"The mystery of this ball of earth on which we live!" murmured the +Professor. "Here is this enormous underground body of water. We are far +below sea level. Where, then, is it flowing? What does it empty into? +Can it be that our planet is honeycombed with such hollows as this we +are in? And is each inhabited by some form of life?" + +He sighed and shook his head. + +"The thought is too big! For, if that were true, wouldn't the seas be +drained from the surface of the earth should an accidental passage be +formed from the ocean bed down to such a giant river as this beneath us? +How little we know!" + + * * * * * + +The wild clamor of an alarm bell interrupted his musing. From all the +city houses poured masses of people, to form in solid lines behind the +large well. + +In addition to men, there were many women in those lines, tall and +strong, ready to stand by their mates as long as life was left them. +There were children, too, scarcely in their teens, prepared to fight for +the existence of the race. Every able-bodied Zyobite was mustered +against the cold-blooded Things that pressed so near. + +The arms of these desperate fighters were pitiful compared to our own +war weapons. With no need in the city for fighting engines, none had +ever been developed. Now the best that could be had was a sort of ax, +used for dissecting the mound-fish, and various knives fashioned for +peaceful purposes. + +Again the bell clamored forth a warning, this time twice repeated. Every +hand grasped its weapon. Every eye went hopefully to the hole in the +floor on which our immediate fate depended, then valiantly to the +section of wall above it. + +This quivered perceptibly. A heavy, pointed instrument broke through; +was withdrawn; and a hissing stream of water spurted out. + +The Quabos were about to break in upon us! + + * * * * * + +With a crash that made the solid rock tremble, a section of the wall +collapsed. It was the top half of the end of the Quabos' tunnel. They +had so wrought that the lower half stayed in place--a thing we did not +have time to recognize as significant until later. + +A solid wall of water, in which writhed dozens of tentacled monsters, +was upon us, and we had time for nothing but action. + +The ditch had of necessity been placed directly under the Quabos' +entrance. The first rush of water carried half over it. With it were +borne scores of the cold-blooded invaders. + +In an instant we were standing knee deep in a torrent that tore at our +footing, while we hacked frantically with knives and axes at the slimy +tentacles that reached up to drag us under. + +A soft, horrible mass swept against my legs. I was overthrown. A +tentacle slithered around my neck and constricted viciously like a +length of rotten cable. I sawed at it with the long, notched blade I +carried. Choking for air, I felt the pressure relax and scrambled to my +knees. + +Two more tentacles went around me, one winding about my legs and the +other crushing my waist. Two huge eyes glared fiendishly at me. + +I plunged the knife again and again into the barrel-shaped head. It did +not bleed: a few drops of thin, yellowish liquid oozed from the wounds +but aside from this my slashing seemed to make no impression. + +In a frenzy I defended myself against the nightmare head that was +winding surely toward me. Meanwhile I devoted every energy to keeping on +my feet. If I ever went under again-- + +It seemed to me that the creature was weakening. With redoubled fury I +hacked at the spidery shape. And gradually, when it seemed as though I +could not withstand its weight and crushing tentacles another second, +it slipped away and floated off on the shallow, roaring rapids. + + * * * * * + +For a moment I stood there, catching my breath and regaining my +strength. Shifting, terrible scenes flashed before my eyes. + +A tall Zyobite and an almost equally stalwart woman were both caught by +one gigantic Quabo which had a tentacle around the throat of each. The +man and woman were chopping at the viscous, gruesome head. One of the +Thing's eyes was gashed across, giving it a fearsome, blind appearance. +It heaved convulsively, and the three struggling figures toppled into +the water and were swirled away. + +The Professor was almost buried by a Quabo that had all four of its +tentacles wound about him. As methodically as though he were in a +laboratory dissecting room, he was cutting the slippery lengths away, +one by one, till the fourth parted and left him free. + +A giant Zyobite was struggling with two of the monsters. He had an ax in +each hand, and was whirling them with such strength and rapidity that +they formed flashing circles of light over his head. But he was torn +down at last and borne off by the almost undiminished flood that gushed +from the tunnel. + +And now, without warning, a heavy soft body flung against my back, and +the accident most to be dreaded in that melee occurred. + +I was knocked off my feet! My head was pressed under the water. On my +chest was a mass that was yielding but immovable, soft but terribly +strong. Animated, firm jelly! I had no chance to use my knife. My arms +were held powerless against my sides. + +Water filled my nose and mouth. I strangled for breath, heaving at the +implacable weight that pinned me helpless. Bright spots swirled before +my eyes. There was a roaring in my ears. My lungs felt as though filled +with molten lead. I was drowning.... + + * * * * * + +Vaguely I felt the pressure loosen at last. An arm--with good, solid +flesh and bone in it--slipped under my shoulders and dragged me up into +the air. + +"Don't you know--can't drown a fish--holding it under water?" panted a +voice. + +I opened my eyes and saw Stanley, his face pale with the thrill of +battle, his chin jutting forward in a berserk line, his eyes snapping +with eager, wary fires. + +I grinned up at him and he slapped me on the back--almost completing the +choking process started by the salt water I'd inhaled. + +"That's better. Now--at it again!" + +I don't remember the rest of the tumult. The air seemed filled with +loathsome tentacles and bright metal blades. It was a confused eternity +until the decreased volume of water in the tunnel gave us a respite.... + +As the tunnel slowly emptied the pressure dropped, and the incoming +flood poured squarely into the trough instead of half over it. From that +moment there was very little more for us to do. + +Our little army--with about a fourth of its number gone--had only to +guard the ditch and see that none of the Quabos caught the edges as they +hurtled out of their passage. + +For perhaps ten minutes longer the water poured from the break in the +wall, with now and then a doomed Quabo that goggled horribly at us as it +was dashed down the hole in the floor to whatever awesome depths were +beneath. + +Then the flow ceased. The last oleaginous corpse was pushed over the +edge. And the city, save for an ankle-deep sheet of water that was +rapidly draining out the vents in the streets, presented its former +appearance. + +The Zyobites leaned wearily against convenient walls and began telling +themselves how fortunate they were to have been spared what seemed +certain destruction. + + * * * * * + +The Professor didn't share in the general feeling of triumph. + +"Don't be so childishly optimistic!" he snapped as I began to +congratulate him on the victory his ditch had given us. "Our troubles +aren't over yet!" + +"But we've proved that we can stand up to them in a hand-to-tentacle +fight--" + +His thin, frosty smile appeared. + +"One of those devils, normally, is stronger than any three men. The only +reason all of us weren't destroyed at once is that they were slowly +suffocating as they fought. The foot and a half of water we were in +wasn't enough to let their gills function properly. Now if they were +able to stand right up to us and not be handicapped by lack of water to +breathe ... I wonder.... Is that part of their plan? Is there any way +they could manage ...?" + +"But, Professor," I argued, "it's all over, isn't it? The tunnel is +emptied, and all the Quabos are--" + +"The tunnel isn't emptied. It's only _half_ emptied! I'll show you." + +He called Stanley; and the three of us went to the break. + +"See," the Professor pointed out to us as we approached the jagged hole, +"the Quabos only drilled through the top half of their tunnel ending. +That means that the tunnel still has about four feet of water in +it--enough to accommodate a great many of the monsters. There may be +four or five hundred of them left in there; possibly more. We can expect +renewed hostilities at any time!" + +"But won't it be just a repetition of the first battle?" remonstrated +Stanley. "In the end they'll be killed or will drown for lack of water +as these first ones did." + + * * * * * + +The Professor shook his head. + +"They're too clever to do that twice. The very fact that they kept half +their number in reserve shows that they have some new trick to try. +Otherwise they'd all have come at once in one supreme effort." + +He paced back and forth. + +"They're ingenious, intelligent. They're fighting for their very +existence. They must have figured out some way of breathing in air, some +way of attacking us on a more even basis in case that first rush went +wrong. What can it be?" + +"I think you're borrowing trouble before it is necessary--" I began, +smiling at his elaborate, scientific pessimism. But I was interrupted by +a startled shout from Stanley. + +"Professor Martin," he cried, pointing to the tunnel mouth. "Look!" + +Like twin snakes crawling up to sun themselves, two tentacles had +appeared over the rock rim. They hooked over the edge; and leisurely, +with grim surety of invulnerability, the barrel-like head of a Quabo +balanced itself on the ledge and glared at us. + + * * * * * + +For a moment we stared, paralyzed, at the Thing. And, during that moment +it squatted there, as undistressed as though the air were its natural +element, its gills flapping slowly up and down supplying it with oxygen. + +The thing that held us rooted to the spot with fearful amazement was the +fantastic device that permitted it to be almost as much at home in air +as in water. + +Over the great, globular head was set an oval glass shell. This was +filled with water. A flexible metal tube hung down from the rear. +Evidently it carried a constant stream of fresh water. As we gazed we +saw intermittent trickles emerging from the bottom of the crystalline +case. + +Point for point the creature's equipment was the same as diving +equipment used by men, only it was exactly opposite in function. A +helmet that enabled a fish to breathe in air, instead of a helmet to +allow a man to breathe in water! + +Stanley was the first of us to recover from the shock of this spectacle. +He faced about and raised his voice in shouts of warning to the resting +Zyobites. For other glass encased monsters had appeared beside the +first, now. + +One by one, in single file like a line of enormous marching insects, +they crawled down the wall and humped along on their tentacles--around +the ditch and toward us! + + * * * * * + +The deadly infallibility of that second attack! + +The Quabos advanced on us like armored tanks bearing down on defenceless +savages. Their glass helmets, in addition to containing water for their +breathing, protected them from our knives and axes. We were utterly +helpless against them. + +They marched in ranks about twenty yards apart, each rank helping the +one in front to carry the cumbersome water-hoses which trailed back to +the central water supply in the tunnel. + +Their movements were slow, weighted down as they were by the great glass +helmets, but they were appallingly sure. + +We could not even retard their advance, let alone stop it. Here were no +suffocating, faltering creatures. Here were beings possessed of their +full vigor, each one equal to three of us even as the Professor had +conjectured. Their only weak points were their tentacles which trailed +outside the glass cases. But these they kept coiled close, so that to +reach them and hack at them we had to step within range of their +terrific clutches. + +The Zyobites fought with the valor of despair added to their inherent +noble bravery. Man after man closed with the monstrous, armored +Things--only to be seized and crushed by the weaving tentacles. + +Occasionally a terrific blow with an ax would crack one of the glass +helmets. Then the denuded Quabo would flounder convulsively in the air +till it drowned. But there were all too few of these individual +victories. The main body of the Quabos, rank on rank, dragging their +water-hose behind them, came on with the steadiness of a machine. + + * * * * * + +Slowly we were driven back down the broad street and toward the palace. +As we retreated, old people and children came from the houses and went +with us, leaving their dwellings to the mercy of the monsters. + +A block from the palace we bunched together and, by sheer mass and +ferocity, actually stopped the machinelike advance for a few moments. +Miscellaneous weapons had been brought from the houses--sledges, stone +benches, anything that might break the Quabos' helmets--and handed to us +in silence by the noncombatants. + +Somebody tugged at my sleeve. Looking down I saw a little girl. She had +dragged a heavy metal bar out to the fray and was trying to get some +fighter's attention and give it to him. + +I seized the formidable weapon and jumped at the nearest Quabo, a +ten-foot giant whose eyes were glinting gigantically at me through the +distorting curve of the glass. + +Disregarding the clutching tentacles entirely, I swung the bar against +the helmet. It cracked. I swung again and it fell in fragments, spilling +the gallons of water it had contained. + +The tentacles wound vengefully around me, but in a few seconds they +relaxed as the thing gasped out its life in the air. + + * * * * * + +I turned to repeat the process on another if I could, and found myself +facing the Queen. Her head was held bravely high, though the violet of +her eyes had gone almost black with fear and repulsion of the terrible +things we fought. + +"Aga!" I cried. "Why art thou here! Go back to the palace at once!" + +"I came to fight beside thee," she answered composedly, though her +delicate lips quivered. "All is lost, it seems. So shall I die beside +thee." + +I started to reply, to urge her again to seek the safety of the palace. +But by now the deadly advance of the tentacled demons had begun once +more. + +Fighting vainly, the population of Zyobor was swept into the palace +grounds, then into the building itself. + +Men, women and children huddled shoulder to shoulder in the cramping +quarters. An ironic picture came to me of the crowding masses of Quabos +stuffed into the protection of the outer cave, waiting the outcome of +the fight being waged by their warriors. Here were we in a similar +circumstance, waiting for the battle to be decided. Though there was +little doubt in the minds of any of us as to what the outcome would be. + +Guards, the strongest men of the city, were stationed with sledges at +the doors and windows. The Quabos, able only to enter one at a time, +halted a moment and there was a badly needed breathing spell. + + * * * * * + +"We've got to find some drastic means of defence," said the Professor, +"or we won't last another three hours." + +"If you asked me, I'd say we couldn't last another three hours anyway," +replied Stanley with a shrug. "These fish have out-thought us!" + +"Nonsense! There may still be a way--" + +"A brace of machine-guns...." I murmured hopefully. + +"You might as well wish for a dozen light cannon!" snapped the +Professor. "Please try to concentrate, and see if any effective weapon +suggests itself to you--something more available at the moment than +machine-guns." + +In silence the three of us racked our brains for a means of defence. +Aga, leaving for a time the task of soothing her more hysterical +subjects, came quietly over to us and sat on the bench beside me. + +Frankly I could think of nothing. To my mind we were surely doomed. What +arms could possibly be contrived at such short notice? What weapon +could be called forth to be effective against the thick glass helmets? + +But as I glanced at Stanley I saw his face set in a new expression as +his thoughts took a turn that suggested possible salvation. + +"Glass," he muttered. "Glass. What destroys it? Sharp blows ... certain +acids ... variation in temperature ... heat and cold.... That's it! +_That's it!_" + +He turned excitedly to the Queen. + +"I think we have it! At least it's worth trying. If there is any tubing +around...." He stopped as he realized he was talking in English, and +resumed stiltedly in Aga's own language. + +"Hast thou, in the palace, any lengths of pipe like to that which the +Quabos drag behind them?" + +"No ..." Aga began, her eyes round and wondering. Then she interrupted +herself. "Ah, yes! There is! In a vault near that of Kilor's there is a +great spool of it. He had it fashioned to carry air for one of his +experiments--" + +"Come along!" cried Stanley. "I'll explain what I have in mind while we +dig up this coil of hose." + + * * * * * + +A score of Zyobite workmen were gathered at once. The length of +hose--made of some linen-like fabric of tough, shredded sea-weed and +covered with a flexible metal sheath--was cut into three pieces each +about fifty yards long. These were connected to three of the largest gas +vents of the palace. + +Stanley, the Professor and I each took an end. And we prepared to fight, +with fire, the creatures of water. + +"It ought to work," Stanley, repeated several times as though trying to +reassure himself as well as us. "It's simple enough: the water in those +helmets is ice cold: if fire is suddenly squirted against them they'll +crack with the uneven expansion." + +"Unless," retorted the Professor, "their glass has some special heat and +cold resisting quality." + +Stanley shrugged. + +"It may well have some such properties. How such creatures can make +glass at all is beyond me!" + +Dragging our hose to the big front entrance of the palace, and warning +the crowded people to keep their feet clear of it, we prepared to test +out the efficiency of this, our last resource against the enemy. + + * * * * * + +For an instant we paused just inside the doorway, looking out at the +ugly, glassed-in Things that were massing to attack us again. + +The ranks of Quabos had closed in now, till they extended down the +street for several hundred yards in close formation--a forest of great +pulpy heads with huge eyes that glared unblinkingly at the glittering, +pink building that was their objective. + +"Light up!" ordered Stanley, setting an example by touching his hose +nozzle to the nearest wall jet. A spurt of fire belched from his hose, +streaming out for four or five feet in a solid red cone. The Professor +and I touched off our torches; and we moved slowly out the door toward +the ranks of Quabos. + +"Don't try to save yourselves from their tentacles," advised Stanley. +"Walk right up to them, direct the fire against their helmets, and damn +the consequences. If they grip too hard you can always play the torch on +their tentacles till they think better of it." + +The Quabos' front line humped grimly toward us, unblinking eyes glaring, +tentacles writhing warily, little spurts of used water trickling from +their helmets. + +"Keep together," warned Stanley, "so that if any one of us loses his +light he can get it from the hose of one of the other two. And--_Here +they come!_" + +There was no more time for commands. The Quabos in front, supplied with +slack in their hoses by those behind, leaped at us with incredible +agility. We fell back a step so that none should get at our backs. + +The last stand was begun. + + * * * * * + +It was not a battle so much as a series of fierce duels. The Quabos +realized their new danger instantly, and devoted all their efforts to +extinguishing our torches. We parried and thrust with the flaming hoses +in an equally desperate effort to prevent it. + +One of them scuttled toward me like a great crab. A tentacle darted +toward my right arm. Another was pressed against the nozzle. There was a +sickening smell--and the tentacle was jerked spasmodically away. + +I caught the hose in my left hand and turned the fiery jet against the +water-filled helmet. + +A shout of savage exultation broke from my lips. Hardly, had the flame +touched the glass before it cracked! There was a report like a pistol +shot--and a miniature Niagara of water and splintered glass poured at my +feet! + +The tentacle around my arm tightened, then relaxed. The monster +shuddered in a convulsive heap on the ground. + +I went toward the next one, swinging the flaring hose in a slow arc as I +advanced. The creature lunged at me and threshed at the burning jet with +all four of its feelers. But it had been exposed to the air for a long +time now. The ghastly tentacles were dry; withered and soft. A touch of +the fire seared them unmercifully. + +Nevertheless with a swift move it slapped a tentacle squarely down over +the hose nozzle. The flame was extinguished as the flame of a candle is +pinched out between thumb and forefinger. I retreated. + +"Catch!" came a voice behind me. + + * * * * * + +The Professor swung his four-foot jet my way. I held my hose to it, and +the flame burst out again. A touch at my grisly antagonist's helmet--a +sharp crack--the welcome rush of water over the cream-colored grass--and +another monster was writhing in the death throes! + +Keeping close together, the three of us faced the massed Quabos in the +palace grounds. Again and again the fiery weapon of one or the other of +us was dashed out--to be re-lighted from the nearest hose. Again and +again loud detonations heralded the collapse of more of the invaders. + +But it seemed as though their flailing tentacles were as myriad as the +stars they had never seen. It seemed as though their numbers would never +appreciably diminish. We thrust and parried till our arms grew numb. And +still there appeared to be hundreds of the Quabos left. + +By order of the Queen three stout Zyobites stepped up to us and relieved +us of our exhausting labor. Gladly we handed the hoses to them and went +to the palace for a much needed rest. + + * * * * * + +Two more shifts of fighters took the flaming jets before the monsters +began the retreat slowly back toward their tunnel. And here the +Professor took command again. + +"We mustn't let them get away to try some new scheme!" he snapped. +"Martin, take fifty men and beat them back to the break in the wall. Go +around a side street. They move so slowly that you can easily cut off +their retreat." + +"There isn't any more hose--" began Stanley. + +"There's plenty of it. The Quabos brought it with them." The Professor +turned to me again. "Take metal-saws with you. Cut sections of the +Quabos water-hose and connect them to the nearest wall jets. Run!" + +I ran, with fifty of the men of Zyobor close behind me. We dodged out +the side of the palace grounds least guarded by the Quabos, ducking +between their ranks like infantry men threading through an opposition of +powerful but slow-moving tanks. Four of our number were caught, but the +rest got through unscathed. + +Down a side street we raced, and along a parallel avenue toward the +tunnel. As we went I prayed that all the Quabos had centered their +attention on the palace and left their vulnerable water-hoses unguarded. + +They had! When we stole up the last block toward the break we found the +nearest Quabo was a hundred yards down the street--and working further +away with every move. + +At once we set to work on the scores of hoses that quivered over the +floor with each move of the distant monsters. + + * * * * * + +A Zyobite with the muscles of a Hercules swung his ax mightily down on a +hose. The metal was soft enough to be sheered through by the stroke. The +cut ends were smashed so that they could not be crammed down over the +tapering jets; but we could use our metal-saws for cleaner severances at +the other ends. + +The giant with the ax stepped from hose to hose. Lengths were completed +with the saws. A man was placed at each jet to hold the connections in +position. Before the Quabos had reached us we had rigged six fire-hoses +and had cut through forty or fifty more water-lines. + +The end was certain and not long in coming. + +We sprayed the monsters with fire as workmen spray fruit trees with +insect poison. Stanley, the Professor and a Zyobite came up in the rear +with their three hoses. + +Caught between the two forces, the beaten fish milled in hopeless +confusion and indecision. + +In half an hour they were all reduced to huddles of slimy wet flesh that +dotted the pavement from the break back to the palace grounds. The +invaders were completely annihilated--and the city of Zyobor was saved! + +"Now," said the Professor triumphantly, "we have only to knock out the +bottom half of the tunnel wall, empty the tunnel and make sure there are +no more Quabos lurking there. After that we can fill it in with solid +cement. The Queen can order her fish-servants to guard the outer cave +and see that no food gets in to the starving monsters there. The war is +over, gentlemen. The Quabos are as good as exterminated at this moment. +And I can get back to my zoological work...." + +Stanley and I looked at each other. We knew each others thoughts well +enough. + +He could resume his companionship with the beautiful Mayis. And I--I had +Aga.... + + * * * * * + +With the menace of the Quabos banished forever, the city of Zyobor +resumed its normal way. + +The citizens lowered their dead into the great well we had cut, with +appropriate rites performed by the Queen. The daily tasks and pleasures +were picked up where they had been dropped. The haunting fear died from +the eyes of the people. + +Shortly afterward, with great ceremony and celebration, I was made King +of Zyobor, to rule by Aga's side. Stanley took Mayis for his wife. He is +second to me in power. The Professor is the official wise man of the +city. + +Life flows smoothly for us in this pink lighted community. We are more +than content with our lot here. Our only concern has been the grief that +must have been occasioned our relatives and friends when the _Rosa_ +sailed home without us. + +Now we have thought of a way in which, with luck, we may communicate +with the upper world. By relays of my Queen's fish-servants we believe +we can send up the Professor's invaluable notes[A] and this informal +account of what has happened since we left San Francisco that.... + + (Editor's note: There was no trace of any "notes." The yacht, + _Rosa_, was reported lost with all hands in a hurricane off New + Zealand. Aboard her were a Professor George Berry and the owner, + Stanley Browne. There is no record, however, of any passenger by + the name of Martin Grey. To date no one has taken this document + seriously enough to consider financing an expedition of + investigation to Penguin Deep.) + + + + +[Illustration: _"When I am finished, Dale, I shall probably kill you."_] + +The Murder Machine + +_By Hugh B. Cave_ + + +[Sidenote: Four lives lay helpless before the murder machine, the +uncanny device by which hypnotic thought-waves are filtered through +men's minds to mold them into murdering tools!] + +It was dusk, on the evening of December 7, 1906, when I first +encountered Sir John Harmon. At the moment of his entrance I was +standing over the table in my study, a lighted match in my cupped hands +and a pipe between my teeth. The pipe was never lit. + +I heard the lower door slam shut with a violent clatter. The stairs +resounded to a series of unsteady footbeats, and the door of my study +was flung back. In the opening, staring at me with quiet dignity, stood +a young, careless fellow, about five feet ten in height and decidedly +dark of complexion. The swagger of his entrance branded him as an +adventurer. The ghastly pallor of his face, which was almost colorless, +branded him as a man who has found something more than mere adventure. + +"Doctor Dale?" he demanded. + +"I am Doctor Dale." + +He closed the door of the room deliberately, advancing toward me with +slow steps. + +"My name is John Harmon--Sir John Harmon. It is unusual, I suppose," he +said quietly, with a slight shrug, "coming at this late hour. I won't +keep you long." + +He faced me silently. A single glance at those strained features +convinced me of the reason for his coming. Only one thing can bring such +a furtive, restless stare to a man's eyes. Only one thing--fear. + +"I've come to you. Dale, because--" Sir John's fingers closed heavily +over the edge of the table--"because I am on the verge of going mad." + +"From fear?" + +"From fear, yes. I suppose it is easy to discover. A single look at +me...." + +"A single look at you," I said simply, "would convince any man that you +are deadly afraid of something. Do you mind telling me just what it is?" + + * * * * * + +He shook his head slowly. The swagger of the poise was gone; he stood +upright now with a positive effort, as if the realization of his +position had suddenly surged over him. + +"I do not know," he said quietly. "It is a childish fear--fear of the +dark, you may call it. The cause does not matter; but if something does +not take this unholy terror away, the effect will be madness." + +I watched him in silence for a moment, studying the shrunken outline of +his face and the unsteady gleam of his narrowed eyes. I had seen this +man before. All London had seen him. His face was constantly appearing +in the sporting pages, a swaggering member of the upper set--a man who +had been engaged to nearly every beautiful woman in the country--who +sought adventure in sport and in night life, merely for the sake of +living at top speed. And here he stood before me, whitened by fear, the +very thing he had so deliberately laughed at! + +"Dale," he said slowly, "for the past week I have been thinking things +that I do not want to think and doing things completely against my will. +Some outside power--God knows what it is--is controlling my very +existence." + +He stared at me, and leaned closer across the table. + +"Last night, some time before midnight," he told me, "I was sitting +alone in my den. Alone, mind you--not a soul was in the house with me. +I was reading a novel; and suddenly, as if a living presence had stood +in the room and commanded me, I was forced to put the book down. I +fought against it, fought to remain in that room and go on reading. And +I failed." + +"Failed?" My reply was a single word of wonder. + + * * * * * + +"I left my home: because I could not help myself. Have you ever been +under hypnotism, Dale? Yes? Well, the thing that gripped me was +something similar--except that no living person came near me in order to +work his hypnotic spell. I went alone, the whole way. Through back +streets, alleys, filthy dooryards--never once striking a main +thoroughfare--until I had crossed the entire city and reached the west +side of the square. And there, before a big gray town-house, I was +allowed to stop my mad wandering. The power, whatever it was, broke. +I--well, I went home." + +Sir John got to his feet with an effort, and stood over me. + +"Dale," he whispered hoarsely, "what was it?" + +"You were conscious of every detail?" I asked. "Conscious of the time, +of the locality you went to? You are sure it was not some fantastic +dream?" + +"Dream! Is it a dream to have some damnable force move me about like a +mechanical robot?" + +"But.... You can think of no explanation?" I was a bit skeptical of his +story. + +He turned on me savagely. + +"I have no explanation. Doctor," he said curtly. "I came to you for the +explanation. And while you are thinking over my case during the next few +hours, perhaps you can explain this: when I stood before that gray +mansion on After Street, alone in the dark, there was murder in my +heart. I should have killed the man who lived in that house, had I not +been suddenly released from the force that was driving me forward!" + +Sir John turned from me in bitterness. Without offering any word of +departure, he pulled open the door and stepped across the sill. The door +closed, and I was alone. + + * * * * * + +That was my introduction to Sir John Harmon. I offer it in detail +because it was the first of a startling series of events that led to the +most terrible case of my career. In my records I have labeled the entire +case "The Affair of the Death Machine." + +Twelve hours after Sir John's departure--which will bring the time, to +the morning of December 8--the headlines of the Daily Mail stared up at +me from the table. They were black and heavy: those headlines, and +horribly significant. They were: + + FRANKLIN WHITE Jr. FOUND + MURDERED + + Midnight Marauder Strangles + Young Society Man in West-End + Mansion + +I turned the paper hurriedly, and read: + + Between the hours of one and two o'clock this morning, an unknown + murderer entered the home of Franklin White, Jr., well known + West-End sportsman, and escaped, leaving behind his strangled + victim. + + Young White, who is a favorite in London upper circles, was + discovered in his bed this morning, where he had evidently lain + dead for many hours. Police are seeking a motive for the crime, + which may have its origin in the fact that White only recently + announced his engagement to Margot Vernee, young and exceedingly + pretty French debutante. + + Police say that the murderer was evidently an amateur, and that he + made no attempt to cover his crime. Inspector Thomas Drake of + Scotland Yard has the case. + +There was more, much more. Young White had evidently been a decided +favorite, and the murder had been so unexpected, so deliberate, that the +Mail reporter had made the most of his opportunity for a story. But +aside from what I have reprinted, there was only a single short +paragraph which claimed my attention. It was this: + + The White home is not a difficult one to enter. It is a huge gray + town-house, situated just off the square, in After Street. The + murderer entered by a low French window, leaving it open. + +I have copied the words exactly as they were printed. The item does not +call for any comment. + + * * * * * + +But I had hardly dropped the paper before she stood before me. I say +"she"--it was Margot Vernee, of course--because for some peculiar reason +I had expected her. She stood quietly before me, her cameo face, set in +the black of mourning, staring straight into mine. + +"You know why I have come?" she said quickly. + +I glanced at the paper on the table before me, and nodded. Her eyes +followed my glance. + +"That is only part of it, Doctor," she said. "I was in love with +Franklin--very much--but I have come to you for something more. Because +you are a famous psychologist, and can help me." + +She sat down quietly, leaning forward so that her arms rested on the +table. Her face was white, almost as white as the face of that young +adventurer who had come to me on the previous evening. And when she +spoke, her voice was hardly more than a whisper. + +"Doctor, for many days now I have been under some strange power. +Something frightful, that compels me to think and act against my will." + +She glanced at me suddenly, as if to note the effect of her words. Then: + +"I was engaged to Franklin for more than a month, Doctor: yet for a +week now I have been commanded--commanded--by some awful force, to +return to--to a man who knew me more than two years ago. I can't explain +it. I did not love this man; I hated him bitterly. Now comes this mad +desire, this hungering, to go to him. And last night--" + + * * * * * + +Margot Vernee hesitated suddenly. She stared at me searchingly. Then, +with renewed courage, she continued. + +"Last night, Doctor, I was alone. I had retired for the night, and it +was late, nearly three o'clock. And then I was strangely commanded, by +this awful power that has suddenly taken possession, of my soul, to go +out. I tried to restrain myself, and in the end I found myself walking +through the square. I went straight to Franklin White's home. When I +reached there, it was half past three--I could hear Big Ben. I went +in--through the wide French window at the side of the house. I went +straight to Franklin's room--_because I could not prevent myself from +going_." + +A sob came from Margot's lips. She had half risen from her chair, and +was holding herself together with a brave effort. I went to her side and +stood over her. And she, with a half crazed laugh, stared up at me. + +"He was dead when I saw him!" she cried. "Dead! Murdered! That infernal +force, what ever it was, had made me go straight to my lover's side, to +see him lying there, with those cruel finger marks on his throat--dead, +I tell you, I--oh, it is horrible!" + +She turned suddenly. + +"When I saw him," she said bitterly, "the sight of him--and the sight of +those marks--broke the spell that held me. I crept from the house as if +I had killed him. They--they will probably find out that I was there, +and they will accuse me of the murder. It does not matter. But this +power--this awful thing that has been controlling me--is there no way +to fight it?" + +I nodded heavily. The memory, of that unfortunate fellow who had come to +me with the same complaint was still holding me. I was prepared to wash +my hands of the whole horrible affair. It was clearly not a medical +case, clearly out of my realm. + +"There is a way to fight it," I said quietly. "I am a doctor, not a +master of hypnotism, or a man who can discover the reasons behind that +hypnotism. But London has its Scotland Yard, and Scotland Yard has a man +who is one of my greatest comrades...." + +She nodded her surrender. As I stepped to the telephone, I heard her +murmur, in a weary, troubled voice: + +"Hypnotism? It is not that. God knows what it is. But it has always +happened when I have been alone. One cannot hypnotise through +distance...." + + * * * * * + +And so, with Margot Vernee's consent, I sought the aid of Inspector +Thomas Drake, of Scotland Yard. In half an hour Drake stood beside me, +in the quiet of my study. When he had heard Margot's story, he asked a +single significant question. It was this: + +"You say you have a desire to go back to a man who was once intimate +with you. Who is he?" + +Margot looked at him dully. + +"It is Michael Strange," she said slowly. "Michael Strange, of Paris. A +student of science." + +Drake nodded. Without further questioning he dismissed my patient; and +when she had gone, he turned to me. + +"She did not murder her sweetheart, Dale" he said. "That is evident. +Have you any idea who did?" + +And so I told him of that other young man. Sir John Harmon, who had come +to me the night before. When I had finished. Drake stared at me--stared +through me--and suddenly turned on his heel. + +"I shall be back, Dale," he said curtly. "Wait for me!" + + * * * * * + +Wait for him! Well, that was Drake's peculiar way of going about things. +Impetuous, sudden--until he faced some crisis. Then, in the face of +danger, he became a cold, indifferent officer of Scotland Yard. + +And so I waited. During the twenty-four hours that elapsed before Drake +returned to my study, I did my best to diagnose the case before me. +First, Sir John Harmon--his visit to the home of Franklin White. +Then--the deliberate murder. And, finally, young Margot Vernee, and her +confession. It was like the revolving whirl of a pinwheel, this series +of events: continuous and mystifying, but without beginning or end. +Surely, somewhere in the procession of horrors, there would be a loose +end to cling to. Some loose end that would eventually unravel the +pinwheel! + +It was plainly not a medical affair, or at least only remotely so. The +thing was in proper hands, then, with Drake following it through. And I +had only to wait for his return. + +He came at last, and closed the door of the room behind him. He stood +over me with something of a swagger. + +"Dale, I have been looking into the records of this Michael Strange," he +said quietly. "They are interesting, those records. They go back some +ten years, when this fellow Strange was beginning his study of science. +And now Michael Strange is one of the greatest authorities in Paris on +the subject of mental telegraphy. He has gone into the study of human +thought with the same thoroughness that other scientists go into the +subject of radio telegraphy. He has written several books on the +subject." + +Drake pulled a tiny black volume from the pocket of his coat and dropped +it on the table before me. With one hand he opened it to a place which +he had previously marked in pencil. + +"Read it," he said significantly. + + * * * * * + +I looked at him in wonder, and then did as he ordered. What I read was +this: + +"Mental telegraphy is a science, not a myth. It is a very real fact, a +very real power which can be developed only by careful research. To most +people it is merely a curiosity. They sit, for instance, in a crowded +room at some uninteresting lecture, and stare continually at the back of +some unsuspecting companion until that companion, by the power of +suggestion, turns suddenly around. Or they think heavily of a certain +person nearby, perhaps commanding him mentally to hum a certain popular +tune, until the victim, by the power of their will, suddenly fulfills +the order. To such persons, the science of mental telegraphy is merely +an amusement. + +"And so it will be, until science has brought it to such a perfection +that these waves of thought can be broadcast--that they can be +transmitted through the ether precisely as radio waves are transmitted. +In other words, mental telegraphy is at present merely a mild form of +hypnotism. Until it has been developed so that those hypnotic powers can +be directed through space, and directed accurately to those individuals +to whom they are intended, this science will have no significance. It +remains for scientists of to-day to bring about that development." + +I closed the book. When I looked up, Drake was watching me intently, as +if expecting me to say something. + +"Drake," I said slowly, more to myself than to him, "the pinwheel is +beginning to unravel. We have found the beginning thread. Perhaps, if we +follow that thread...." + +Drake smiled. + +"If you'll pick up your hat and coat, Dale," he interrupted, "I think we +have an appointment. This Michael Strange, whose book you have just +enjoyed so immensely, is now residing on a certain quiet little side +street about three miles from the square, in London!" + + * * * * * + +I followed Drake in silence, until we had left Cheney Lane in the gloom +behind us. At the entrance to the square my companion called a cab; and +from there on we rode slowly, through a heavy darkness which was +blanketed by a wet, penetrating fog. The cabby, evidently one who knew +my companion by sight (and what London cabby does not know his Scotland +Yard men!) chose a route that twisted through gloomy, uninhabited side +streets, seldom winding into the main route of traffic. + +As for Drake, he sank back in the uncomfortable seat and made no attempt +at conversation. For the entire first part of our journey he said +nothing. Not until we had reached a black, unlighted section of the city +did he turn to me. + +"Dale," he said at length, "have you ever hunted tiger?" + +I looked at him and laughed. + +"Why?" I replied. "Do you expect this hunt of ours will be something of +a blind chase?" + +"It will be a blind chase, no doubt of it," he said. "And when we have +followed the trail to its end, I imagine we shall find something very +like a tiger to deal with. I have looked rather deeply into Michael +Strange's life, and unearthed a bit of the man's character. He has twice +been accused of murder--murder by hypnotism--and has twice cleared +himself by throwing scientific explanations at the police. That is the +nature of his entire history for the past ten years." + + * * * * * + +I nodded, without replying. As Drake turned away from me again, our cab +poked its laboring nose into a narrowing, gloomy street. I had a glimpse +of a single unsteady street lamp on the corner, and a dim sign, "Mate +Lane." And then we were dragging along the curb. The cab stopped with a +groan. + +I had stepped down and was standing by the cab door when suddenly, from +the darkness in front of me, a strange figure advanced to my side. He +glanced at me intently; then, seeing that I was evidently not the man he +sought, he turned to Drake. I heard a whispered greeting and an +undertone of conversation. Then, quietly, Drake stepped toward me. + +"Dale," he said. "I thought it best that I should not show myself here +to-night. No, there is no time for explanation now; you will understand +later. Perhaps"--significantly--"sooner than you anticipate. Inspector +Hartnett will go through the rest of this pantomime with you." + +I shook hands with Drake's man, still rather bewildered at the sudden +substitution. Then, before I was aware of it, Drake had vanished and the +cab was gone. We were alone, Hartnett and I, in Mate Lane. + +The home of Michael Strange--number seven--was hardly inviting. No light +was in evidence. The big house stood like a huge, unadorned vault set +back from the street, some distance from its adjoining buildings. The +heavy steps echoed to our footbeats as we mounted them in the darkness; +and the sound of the bell, as Hartnett pressed it came sharply to us +from the silence of the interior. + + * * * * * + +We stood there, waiting. In the short interval before the door opened, +Hartnett glanced at his watch (it was nearly ten o'clock), and said to +me: + +"I imagine, Doctor, we shall meet a blank wall. Let me do the talking, +please." + +That was all. In another moment the big door was pulled slowly open from +the inside, and in the entrance, glaring out at us, stood the man we had +come to see. It is not hard to remember that first impression of Michael +Strange. He was a huge man, gaunt and haggard, moulded with the hunched +shoulders and heavy arms of a gorilla. His face seemed to be +unconsciously twisted into a snarl. His greeting, which came only after +he had stared at us intently, for nearly a minute, was curt and +rasping. + +"Well, gentlemen? What is it?" + +"I should like a word with Dr. Michael Strange," said my companion +quietly. + +"I am Michael Strange." + +"And I," replied Hartnett, with a suggestion of a smile, "am Raoul +Hartnett, from Scotland Yard." + +I did not see any sign of emotion on Strange's face. He stepped back in +silence to allow us to enter. Then closing the big door after us, he led +the way along a carpeted hall to a small, ill-lighted room just beyond. +Here he motioned us to be seated, he himself standing upright beside the +table, facing us. + +"From Scotland Yard," he said, and the tone was heavy with dull sarcasm. +"I am at your service, Mr. Hartnett." + + * * * * * + +And now, for the first time, I wondered just why Drake had insisted on +my coming here to this gloomy house in Mate Lane. Why he had so +deliberately arranged a substitute so that Michael Strange should not +come face to face with him directly. Evidently Hartnett had been +carefully instructed as to his course of action--but why this seemingly +unnecessary caution on Drake's part? And now, after we had gained +admission, what excuse would Hartnett offer for the intrusion? Surely he +would not follow the bull-headed role of a common policeman! + +There was no anger, no attempt at dramatics, in Hartnett's voice. He +looked quietly up at our host. + +"Dr. Strange," he said at length, "I have come to you for your +assistance. Last night, some time after midnight, Franklin White was +strangled to death. He was murdered, according to substantial evidence, +by the girl he was going to marry--Margot Vernee. I come to you because +you know this girl rather well, and can perhaps help Scotland Yard in +finding her motive for killing White." + +Michael Strange said nothing. He stood there, scowling down at my +companion in silence. And I, too, I must admit, turned upon Hartnett +with a stare of bewilderment. His accusation of Margot had brought a +sense of horror to me. I had expected almost anything from him, even to +a mad accusation of Strange himself. But I had hardly foreseen this cold +blooded declaration. + +"You understand, Doctor," Hartnett went on, in that same ironical drawl, +"that we do not believe Margot Vernee did this thing herself. She had a +companion, undoubtedly, one who accompanied her to the house on After +Street, and assisted her in the crime. Who that companion was, we are +not sure; but there is decidedly a case of suspicion against a certain +young London sportsman. This fellow is known to have prowled about the +White mansion both on the night of the murder and the night before." + + * * * * * + +Hartnett glanced up casually. Strange's face was a total mask. When he +nodded, the nod was the most even and mechanical thing I have ever seen. +Certainly this man could control his emotions! + +"Naturally, Doctor," Hartnett said, "we have gone rather deeply into the +past life of the lady in question. Your name appears, of course, in a +rather unimportant interval when Margot Vernee resided in Paris. And so +we come to you in the hope that you can perhaps give us some slight bit +of information--something that seems insignificant, perhaps, to you, but +which may put us on the right track." + +It was a careful speech. Even as Hartnett spoke it, I could have sworn +that the words were Drake's, and had been memorized. But Michael Strange +merely stepped back to the table and faced us without a word. He was +probably, during that brief interlude, attempting to realize his +position, and to discover just how much Raoul Hartnett actually knew. + +And then, after his interim of silence, he came forward sullenly and +stood over my comrade. + +"I will tell you this much, Mr. Hartnett of Scotland Yard," he said +bitterly: "My relations with Margot Vernee are not an open book to be +passed through the clumsy fingers of ignorant police officers. As to +this murder, I know nothing. At the time of it, I was seated in this +room in company with a distinguished group of scientific friends. I will +tell you, on authority, that Margot _did not murder her lover_. Why? +Because she loved him!" + + * * * * * + +The last words were heavy with bitterness. Before they had died into +silence, Michael Strange had opened the door of his study. + +"If you please, gentlemen," he said quietly. + +Hartnett got to his feet. For an instant he stood facing the +gorilla-like form of our host; then he stepped over the sill, without a +word. We passed down the unlighted corridor in silence, while Strange +stood in the door of his study, watching us. I could not help but feel, +as we left that gloomy house, that Strange had suddenly focused his +entire attention upon me, and had ignored my companion. I could feel +those eyes upon me, and feel the force of the will behind them. A +decided feeling of uneasiness crept over me, and I shuddered. + +A moment later the big outer door had closed shut after us, and we were +alone in Mate Lane. Alone, that is, until a third figure joined us in +the shadows, and Drake's hand closed over my arm. + +"Capital, Dale," he said triumphantly. "For half an hour you entertained +him, you and Hartnett. And for half an hour I've had the unlimited +freedom of his inner rooms, with the aid of an unlocked window on the +lower floor. Those inner rooms, gentlemen, are significant--very!" + +As we walked the length of Mate Lane, the gaunt, sinister home of +Michael Strange became an indistinct outline in the pitch behind us. +Drake said nothing more on the return trip, until we had nearly reached +my rooms. Then he turned to me with a smile. + +"We are one up on our friend, Dale," he said. "He does not know, just +now, which is the bigger fool--you or Hartnett here. However, I imagine +Hartnett will be the victim of some very unusual events before many +hours have passed!" + +That was all. At least, all of significance. I left the two Scotland +Yard men at the opening of Cheney Lane, and continued alone to my rooms. +I opened the door and let myself in quietly. And there some few hours +later, began the last and most horrible phase of the case of the murder +machine. + + * * * * * + +It begin--or to be more accurate, I began to react to it--at three +o'clock in the morning. I was alone, and the rooms were dark. For hours +I had sat quietly by the table, considering the significant events of +the past few days. Sleep was impossible with so many unanswered +questions staring into me, and so I sat there wondering. + +Did Drake actually believe that Margot Vernee's simple story had been a +ruse--that she had in truth killed her lover on that midnight intrusion +of his home? Did he believe that Michael Strange knew of that +intrusion--that he had possibly planned it himself, and aided her, in +order that Margot might be free to return to him? Did Strange know of +that other intrusion, and of the uncanny power which had driven Sir John +Harmon, and supposedly driven Margot to that house on After Street? + +Those were the questions that still remained without answers: and it was +over those questions that I pondered, while my surroundings became +darker and more silent as the hour became more advanced. I heard the +clock strike three, and heard the answering drone of Big Ben from the +square. + + * * * * * + +And then it began. At first it was little more than a sense of +nervousness. Before I had been content to sit in my chair and doze. Now, +in spite of myself, I found myself pacing the floor, back and forth like +a caged animal. I could have sworn, at the time, that some sinister +presence had found entrance to my room. Yet the room was empty. And I +could have sworn, too, that some silent power of will was commanding me, +with undeniable force, to go out--out into the darkness of Cheney Lane. + +I fought it bitterly. I laughed at it, yet even through my laugh came +the memory of Sir John Harmon and Margot, and what they had told me. And +then, unable to resist that unspoken demand, I seized my hat and coat +and went out. + +Cheney Lane was deserted, utterly still. At the end of it, the street +lamp glowed dully, throwing a patch of ghastly light over the side of +the adjoining building. I hurried through the shadows, and as I walked, +a single idea had possession of me. I must hurry, I thought, with all +possible speed, to that grim house in Mate Lane--number seven. + +Where that deliberate desire came from I did not know. I did not stop to +reason. Something had commanded me to go at once to Michael Strange's +home. And though I stopped more than once, deliberately turning in my +tracks, inevitably I was forced to retrace my steps and continue. + + * * * * * + +I remember passing through the square, and prowling through the +unlightened side streets that lay beyond. Three miles separated Cheney +Lane from Mate Lane, and I had been over the route only once before, in +a cab. Yet I followed that route without a single false turn, followed +it instinctively. At every intersecting street I was dragged in a +certain direction and not once was I allowed to hesitate. It was as +though some unseen demon perched on my shoulders, as the demon of the +sea rode Sinbad, and pointed out the way. + +Only one disturbing thing occurred on that night journey through London. +I had turned into a narrow street hardly more than a quarter mile from +my destination; and before me, in the shadows, I made out the form of a +shuffling old man. And here, as I watched him, I was conscious of a new, +mad desire. I crept upon him stealthily, without a sound. My hands were +outstretched, clutching, for his throat. At that moment I should have +killed him! + +I cannot explain it. During that brief interval I was a murderer at +heart. I wanted to kill. And now that I remember it, the desire had been +pregnant in me ever since the lights of Cheney Lane had died behind me. +All the time that I prowled through those black streets, murder lurked +in my heart. I should have killed the first man who crossed my path. + +But I did not kill him. Thank God, as my fingers twisted toward the back +of his throat, that mad desire suddenly left me. I stood still, while +the old fellow, still unsuspecting, shuffled, away into the darkness. +Then, dropping my hands with a sob of helplessness, I went forward +again. + + * * * * * + +And so I reached Mate Lane, and the huge gray house that awaited me. +This time, as I mounted the stone steps, the old house seemed even more +repulsive and horrible. I dreaded to see that door open, but I could not +retreat. + +I dropped the knocker heavily. A moment passed: and then, precisely as +before, the huge door swung inward. Michael Strange stood before me. + +He did not speak. Perhaps, if he had spoken, that fiendish spell would +have been broken, and I should have returned, even then, to my own +peaceful little rooms in Cheney Lane. No--he merely held the door for +me to enter, and as I passed him he stood there, watching me with a +significant smile. + +Straight to that familiar room at the end of the hall I went, with +Strange behind me. When we had entered, he closed the door cautiously. +For a moment he faced me without speaking. + +"You came very close to committing a murder on your way here, did you +not, Dale?" + +I stared at him. How, in God's name, could this man read my thoughts so +completely? + +"You would have completed the murder," he said softly, "had I wished it. +I did not wish it!" + +I did not answer. There was no reply to such a mad declaration. As for +my companion, he watched me for an instant and then laughed. He was not +mad. I am doctor enough to know that. + +But the laugh was not long in duration. He stepped forward suddenly and +took my arm in a steel grip, dragging me toward the half hidden door at +the farther end of the room. + +"I shall not keep you long, Dale," he said harshly. "I could have killed +you--could have made you kill yourself, and in fact, I intended to do +so--but after all, you are merely a poor stumbling fool who has meddled +in things too deep for you." + + * * * * * + +He pulled open the door and pushed me forward. The room was dark, and +not until he had closed the door again and switched on a dim light, +could I see its contents. + +Even then I saw nothing. At least, nothing of importance to an +unscientific mind. There was a low table against the wall, with a +profusion of tiny wires emanating from it. I was aware that a cup shaped +microphone--or something very similar--hung over the table, about on a +level with my eyes, had I been sitting in the chair. Beyond that I saw +nothing, until Strange had moved forward and drawn aside a curtain that +hung beside the table. + +"I made you come here to-night, Dale," he murmured, "because I was a bit +afraid of you. Your comrade, Hartnett, was an ignorant police officer. +He has not the intellect to connect the series of events of the past day +or two, and so I did not trouble myself with him. But you are an +educated man. You have made no demonstrations of your ability in the +field of science, but--" + +He stopped speaking abruptly. From the room behind us came the sound of +a warning bell. Strange turned quickly and went to the door. + +"You will wait here, Doctor," he said. "I have another caller to-night. +Another one who came the same way as you!" + +He vanished. For a short interlude I was alone, with that peculiar +radio-like apparatus before me. It was, for all the world, like a +miniature control room in some small broadcasting station. Except for +the odd shape of the microphone, if it was such I could detect no +radical difference in equipment. + + * * * * * + +However, I had little time for conjecture. A patter of footsteps +interrupted me from the next room, and a frightened, feminine voice +broke the stillness of the outer study. Even before the owner of that +voice stepped in to my presence, I knew her. + +And when she came, with white, fearful face and trembling body, I could +not withhold a shudder of apprehension. It was the young woman who had +come to my office--Margot Vernee. Evidently, at last, she had yielded to +the horrible impulse that had drawn her back to Michael Strange, an +impulse which, I now understood, had originated from the man himself. + +He pressed her forward. There was nothing tender in his touch: it was +cruel and triumphant. + +"So you have succeeded--at last," I said bitterly. + +He turned to me with a sneer. + +"I have brought her here, yes," he replied. "And now that she has come, +she shall hear what I have to tell you. It will perhaps give her a +respect for me, and this time she will not have the power to turn me +away." + +He pointed to the table, to the apparatus that lay there. + +"I'm telling you this, Dale," he said, "because it gives me pleasure to +do so. You are enough of a scientist to appreciate and understand it. +And if, when I have finished, I have told you too much, there is a very +easy way to keep your tongue silent. You have heard of hypnotism, Dale? +You have heard also of radio? Have you ever thought of combining the +two?" + + * * * * * + +He faced me directly. I made no effort to reply. + +"Radio," he said quietly, "is broadcast by means of sound waves. That +much you know. But hypnotism too, can be transmitted through distance, +if an instrument delicate enough to transmit _thought waves_ can be +invented. For twenty years I have worked on that instrument, and for +twenty years I have studied hypnotism. You understand, of course, that +this instrument is worthless unless it is operated by a master mind. +Thought waves are useless; they will not control the actions of even a +cat. But hypnotic waves or concentrated thought waves--will control the +world." + +There was no denying him. He faced me with the savage triumph of a wild +beast. He was glorying in his power, and in my amazement. + +"I wanted Franklin White to die!" he cried. "It was I who murdered him. +Why? Because he was about to take the girl I desired. Is that not reason +enough for murder? And so I killed him. It was not Margot Vernee who +strangled her lover: it was a complete stranger, a London sportsman, who +had no reason for committing the murder, _except that I wished him to_! + +"He died on the night of December seventh, murdered by Sir John Harmon, +the sportsman. Why? Because, of all London, Sir John would be the last +man to be suspected. I have a keen appreciation for the irony of fate! +White would have died the night before, Dale, except that I lacked the +courage to kill him. His murderer was standing, under my power, outside +his very house--and then I suddenly thought it best that I should have +an alibi. Your Scotland Yard is clever, and it was best that I have +protection. And so, on the following night, I sent Sir John to the house +once again. This time, while I sat here and controlled the actions of my +puppet, a group of men sat here with me. They believed that I was +experimenting with a new type of radio receiver!" + + * * * * * + +Michael Strange laughed, laughed harshly, in utter triumph, as a cat +laughs at the antics of his mouse victims. + +"When that murder was done," he said, "I sent Margot to the scene, so +that she might see her lover strangled, dead. I repeat, Dale, that I +enjoy the irony of fate, especially when I can control it. And as for +you--I brought you here to-night merely so that you would realize the +intensity of the powers that control you. When you leave here, you will +be unharmed--but after the exhibition I shall give you, I am sure that +you will make no further attempt to interfere with things out of your +realm of understanding." + +I heard a sob from Margot. She had retreated to the door, and clung +there. For myself, I did not move. Strange's recital had revealed to me +the horrible lust that gripped him, and now I watched him in +fascination. He would not harm the girl; that much I was sure of. In his +distorted fashion he loved her. In his crazed, murderous way he would +attempt to win her love, even though she had once scorned him. + + * * * * * + +I saw him step toward the table. Saw him drop heavily into the chair, +and stare directly into that microphonic thing that hung before his +eyes. As he stared, he spoke to me. + +"Science, in its intricate forms, is probably above the mind of a common +medical man, Dale," he said. "It would be useless to explain to you how +my thoughts--and my will--can be transmitted through space. Perhaps you +have sat in a theater and stared at a certain person until that person +turned to face you. You have? Then you will perhaps understand how I can +control the minds of any human creature within the radius of my power. +You see, Dale, this intricate little machine gives me the power to +transform London into a city of stark murder. I could bring about such a +horrible wave of crime that Scotland Yard would be scorned from one end +of the world to the other. I could make every man murder his neighbor, +until the streets of the city were running with blood!" + +Strange turned quietly to look at me. He spoke deliberately. + +"And now for the little exhibition of which I spoke, Dale," he murmured. +"Your detective friend, Hartnett, has been under my power for the past +three hours. You see, it was safer to control his movements, and be sure +of him. And now, to be doubly sure of him, perhaps you would like to see +him kill himself!" + +I stepped forward with a sudden cry. Strange said nothing: his eyes +merely burned into mine. Once again I felt that strange, all-powerful +control forcing me back. I retreated, step by step, until the wall +stopped me. Yet even as I retreated, a childish hope filled me. How +could Strange, working his terrible murder machine, concentrate his +power on any individual, when the whole of London lay before him? + + * * * * * + +He answered my question. He must have read it as it came over me. + +"Have you ever been in a crowd, Dale, and watched a certain individual +intently, until that particular individual turned to look at you? The +rest of the crowd pays no attention, of course, but that one man. And +now we shall make that one man murder himself!" + +Strange turned slowly. I saw his fingers creep along the rim of the +table, touching certain wires that came together there. I heard a dull, +droning hum fill the room, and, over it, Strange's penetrating voice. + +"When I am finished, Dale, I shall probably kill you. I brought you here +merely to frighten you, but I believe I have told you too much." + +With that new horror upon me, I saw my captor's lips move slowly.... + +And then, from the shadows at the other end of the small room, came a +low, unemotional voice. + +"Before you begin, Strange--" + +Michael Strange whipped about in his chair like a tiger. His hand +dropped to his pocket, so swiftly that my eyes did not follow it. And as +it dropped, a single staccato shot split the darkness of the room. The +scientist slumped forward in his chair. + +The dull, whirring sound of that hellish machine had stopped abruptly, +cut short by the sudden weight of Strange's lunging body as he fell upon +it. I saw the livid, fiery snake of white light twist suddenly upward +through that coil of wires: and in another moment the entire apparatus +shattered by a blinding crash of flame. + + * * * * * + +After that I turned away. Whether the bullet killed Strange or not, I do +not know: but the sight of his charred face, hanging over that table of +destruction, told its own story. + +It was Inspector Drake who came across the room toward me, and took my +arm. The smoking revolver still lay in his hand, and as he led me into +the adjoining room, I saw that Margot had already found refuge there. + +"You see now, Dale," Drake said quietly, "why I let Hartnett go with you +before? If Strange had suspected me, I should have been merely another +victim. As for Hartnett, he has been under constant guard down at +headquarters. He's safe. They've kept him there, at my instructions, in +spite of all his terrific efforts to leave them." + +I was listening to my companion in admiration. Even then I did not quite +understand. + +"I was wrong in just one thing, Dale. I left you alone, without +protection. I believed Strange would ignore you, because, after all, you +are not a Scotland Yard man. Thank God I had the sense to follow +Margot--to trail her here--and get here soon enough." + + * * * * * + +And so ended the horrible series of events that began with Sir John +Harmon's chance visit to my study. As for Harmon, he was later cleared +of all guilt, upon the charred evidence in Michael Strange's house in +Mate Lane. The girl, I believe, has left London, where she can be as far +as possible from memories that are all too terrible. + +As for me, I am back once again in my quiet rooms in Cheney Lane, where +the routine of common medical practice has wiped out many of those vivid +horrors. In time, I believe, I shall forget, unless Inspector Drake, of +Scotland Yard, insists upon bringing the affair up again! + + + + _IN THE NEXT ISSUE_ + + THE INVISIBLE DEATH + + _A Thrilling Novelet of an Invisible + Empire Within the United States_ + + _By_ Victor Rousseau + + STOLEN BRAINS + + _Another Absorbing Dr. Bird Story_ + + _By_ Capt. S. P. Meek + + PRISONERS ON THE ELECTRON + + _An Exciting Story of a Young + Man Marooned on an Electron_ + + _By_ Robert H. Leitfred + + JETTA OF THE LOWLANDS + + _Part Two of the Current Novel_ + + _By_ Ray Cummings + + _--AND OTHERS!_ + + + + +[Illustration: _We had been captured by a race of gigantic beetles._] + +The Attack from Space + +A SEQUEL TO "BEYOND THE HEAVISIDE LAYER" + +_By Captain S. P. Meek_ + + "No one knows what unrevealed horrors space holds and the world + will never rest entirely easy until the slow process of time again + heals the protective layer."--From "Beyond the Heaviside Layer." + + +Over a year has passed since I wrote those lines. When they were written +the hole which Jim Carpenter had burned with his battery of infra-red +lamps through the heaviside layer, that hollow sphere of invisible +semi-plastic organic matter which encloses the world as a nutshell does +a kernel, was gradually filling in as he had predicted it would: every +one thought that in another ten years the world would be safely enclosed +again in its protective layer as it had been since the dawn of time. +There were some adventurous spirits who deplored this fact, as it would +effectually bar interplanetary travel, for Hadley had proved with his +life that no space flyer could force its way through the fifty miles of +almost solid material which barred the road to space, but they were in +the minority. Most of humanity felt that it would rather be protected +against the denizens of space than to have a road open for them to +travel to the moon if they felt inclined. + +[Sidenote: From a far world came monstrous invaders who were all the +more terrifying because invisible.] + +To be sure, during the five years that the hole had been open, nothing +more dangerous to the peace and well-being of the world had appeared +from space than a few hundreds of the purple amoeba which we had found +so numerous on the outer side of the layer, when we had traveled in a +Hadley space ship up through the hole into the outer realms of space, +and one lone specimen of the green dragons which we had also +encountered. The amoeba had been readily destroyed by the disintegrating +rays of the guarding space-ships which were stationed inside the layer +at the edge of the hole and the lone dragon had fallen a ready victim to +the machine-gun bullets which had been poured into it. At first the +press had damned Jim Carpenter for opening the road for these horrors, +but once their harmlessness had been clearly established, the row had +died down and the appearance of an amoeba did not merit over a squib on +the inside pages of the daily papers. + + * * * * * + +While the hole in the heaviside layer was no longer news for the daily +press, a bitter controversy still waged in the scientific journals as to +the reason why no observer on earth, even when using the most powerful +telescopes, could see the amoeba before they entered the hole, and then +only when their telescopes were set up directly under the hole. When a +telescope of even small power was mounted in the grounds back of +Carpenter's laboratory, the amoeba could be detected as soon as they +entered the hole, or when they passed above it through space; but, aside +from that point of vantage, they were entirely invisible. + +Carpenter's theory of the absorptive powers of the material of which the +heaviside layer was composed was laughed to scorn by most scientists, +who pointed out the fact that the sun, moon and stars could be readily +seen through it. Carpenter replied that the rays of colored or visible +light could only pass through the layer when superimposed upon a carrier +wave of ultra-violet or invisible light. He stated dogmatically that the +amoeba and the other denizens of space absorbed all the ultra-violet +light which fell on them and reflected only the visible rays which could +not pass through the heaviside layer because of the lack of a +synchronized carrier wave of shorter wave-length. + +Despetier replied at great length and showed by apparently unimpeachable +mathematics that Carpenter was entirely wrong and that his statements +showed an absolute lack of knowledge of the most elementary and +fundamental laws of light transmission. Carpenter replied briefly that +he could prove by mathematics that two was equal to one and he +challenged Despetier or anyone else to satisfactorily explain the +observed facts in any other way. While they vainly tried to do so, +Carpenter lapsed into silence in his Los Angeles laboratory and delved +ever deeper into the problems of science. Such was the situation when +the attack came from space. + +My first knowledge of the attack came when McQuarrie, the city editor of +the San Francisco _Clarion_, sent for me. When I entered his office he +tossed a Los Angeles dispatch on the desk before me and with a growl +ordered me to read it. It told of the unexplained disappearance of an +eleven year old boy the night before. It looked like a common +kidnapping. + +"Well?" I asked as I handed him back the dispatch. + +With another growl he tossed down a second telegram. I read it with +astonishment, for it told of a second disappearance which had happened +about an hour after the first. The similarity of the two cases was at +once apparent. + +"Coincidence or connection?" I asked as I returned it. + +"Find out!" he replied. "If I knew which it was I wouldn't be wasting +the paper's money by sending you to Los Angeles. I don't doubt that I am +wasting it anyway, but as long as I am forced to keep you on as a +reporter, I might as well try to make you earn the money the owner +wastes on paying you a salary, even although I know it to be a hopeless +task. Go on down there and see what you can find out, if anything." + +I jotted down in my notebook the names and addresses of the missing +children and turned to leave. A boy entered and handed McQuarrie a +yellow slip. He glanced at it and called me back. + +"Wait a minute, Bond," he said as he handed me the dispatch. "I doubt +but you'd better fly down to Los Angeles. Another case has just been +reported." + +I hastily copied down the dispatch he handed me, which was almost a +duplicate of the first two with the exception of the time and the name. +Three unexplained disappearances in one day was enough to warrant speed; +I drew some expense money and was on my way south in a chartered plane +within an hour. + +On my arrival I went to the Associated Press office and found a message +waiting for me, directing me to call McQuarrie on the telephone at once. + +"Hello, Bond," came his voice over the wire, "have you just arrived? +Well, forget all about that disappearance case. Prince is on his way to +Los Angeles to cover it. You hadn't been gone an hour before a wire came +in from Jim Carpenter. He says, 'Send Bond to me at once by fastest +conveyance. Chance for a scoop on the biggest story of the century.' I +don't know what it's about, but Jim Carpenter is always front page news. +Get in touch with him at once and stay with him until you have the +story. Don't risk trying to telegraph it when you get it--telephone. Get +moving!" + +I lost no time in getting Carpenter on the wire. + +"Hello, First Mortgage," he greeted me. "You made good time getting down +here. Where are you?" + +"At the A. P. Office." + +"Grab a taxi and come out to the laboratory. Bring your grip with you: +you may have to stay over night." + +"I'll be right out, Jim. What's the story?" + +His voice suddenly grew grave. + +"It's the biggest thing you ever handled," he replied. "The fate of the +whole world may hang on it. I don't want to talk over the phone; come on +out and I'll give you the whole thing." + + * * * * * + +An hour later I shook hands with Tim, the guard at the gate of the +Carpenter laboratory, and passed through the grounds to enter Jim's +private office. He greeted me warmly and for a few minutes we chatted of +old times when I worked with him as an assistant in his atomic +disintegration laboratory and of the stirring events we had passed +through together when we had ventured outside the heaviside layer in his +space ship. + +"Those were stirring times," he said, "but I have an idea, First +Mortgage, that they were merely a Sunday school picnic compared to what +we are about to tackle." + +"I guessed that you had something pretty big up your sleeve from your +message." I replied. "What's up now? Are we going to make a trip to the +moon and interview the inhabitants?" + +"We may interview them without going that far," he said. "Have you seen +a morning paper?" + +"No." + +"Look at this." + +He handed me a copy of the _Gazette_. Streamer headlines told of the +three disappearances which I had come to Los Angeles to cover, but they +had grown to five during the time I had been flying down. I looked at +Jim in surprise. + +"We got word of that in San Francisco," I told him, "and I came down +here to cover the story. When I got here, McQuarrie telephoned me your +message and told me to come and see you instead. Has your message +anything to do with this?" + +"It has everything to do with it, First Mortgage; in fact, it _is_ it. +Have you any preconceived ideas on the disappearance epidemic?" + +"None at all." + +"All the better--you'll be able to approach the matter with an unbiased +viewpoint. Don't read that hooey put out by an inspired reporter who +blames the laxness of the city government; I'll give you the facts +without embellishment. Nothing beyond the bare fact of the disappearance +is known about the first case. Robert Prosser, aged eleven, was sent to +the grocery store by his mother about six-thirty last night and failed +to return. That's all we know about it, except that it happened in Eagle +Rock. The second case we have a little more data on. William Hill, aged +twelve, was playing in Glendale last night with some companions. They +were playing 'hide and go seek' and William hid. He could not be found +by the boy who was searching and has not been found since. His +companions became frightened and reported it about eight o'clock. They +saw nothing, but mark this! Four of them agree that they heard a sound +in the air _like a motor humming_." + +"That proves nothing." + +"Taken alone it does not, but in view of the third case, it is quite +significant. The third case happened about nine-thirty last night. This +time the victim was a girl, aged ten. She was returning home from a +moving picture with some companions and she disappeared. This time the +other children saw her go. They say she was suddenly taken straight up +into the air and then disappeared from sight. They, also claim to have +heard a sound like a big electric fan in the air at the time, although +they could see nothing." + +"Had they heard the details of the second disappearance?" + +"They had not. I can see what you are thinking; that they were +unconsciously influenced by the account given of the other case." + +"Consciously or unconsciously." + +"I doubt it, for the fourth case was almost a duplicate of the third. +The fourth and fifth cases happened this morning. In the fourth case the +child, for it was a nine year old girl this time, was lifted into the +air in broad daylight and disappeared. This disappearance was witnessed, +not only by children, but also by two adults, and their testimony agrees +completely with that of the children. The fifth case is similar to the +first: a ten year old boy disappeared without trace. The whole city is +in a reign of terror." + + * * * * * + +The telephone at Carpenter's elbow rang and he answered it. A short +conversation took place and he turned to me with a grim face as he hung +up the receiver. + +"Another case has just been reported to police headquarters from Beverly +Hills," he said. "Again the child was seen to be lifted into the air by +some invisible means and disappeared. The sound of a motor was plainly +heard by five witnesses, who all agree that it was just, above their +heads, but that nothing could be seen." + +"Was it in broad daylight?" + +"Less than an hour ago." + +"But, Jim, that's impossible!" + +"Why is it impossible?" + +"It would imply the invisibility of a tangible substance; of a solid." + +"What of it?" + +"Why, there isn't any such substance. Nothing of the sort exists." + +Carpenter pointed to one of the windows of his laboratory. + +"Does that window frame contain glass or not?" he asked. + +I strained my eyes. Certainly nothing was visible. + +"Yes," I said at a venture. + +He rose and thrust his hand through the space where the glass should +have been. + +"Has this frame glass in it?" he asked, pointing to another. + +"No." + +He struck the glass with his knuckle. + +"I'll give up," I replied. "I am used to thinking of glass as being +transparent but not invisible; yet I can see that under certain light +conditions it may be invisible. Granted that such is the case, do you +believe that living organisms can be invisible?" + +"Under the right conditions, yes. Has any observer been able to see any +of the purple amoeba which we know are so numerous on the outer side of +the heaviside layer?" + +"Not until they have entered the hole through the layer." + +"And yet those amoeba are both solid and opaque, as you know. Why is it +not possible that men, or intelligences of some sort, are in the air +about us and yet are invisible to our eyes!" + +"If they are, why haven't we received evidence of it years ago?" + +"Because there has only been a hole through the heaviside layer for six +years. Before that time they could not penetrate it any more than poor +Hadley could with his space ship. They have not entered the hole earlier +because it is a very small one, at present only some two hundred and +fifty yards in diameter in a sphere of over eight thousand miles +diameter. The invaders have just found the entrance." + +"The invaders? Do you think that the world has been invaded?" + +"I do. How else can you explain the very fact which you have just +quoted, that no evidence of the presence on these invisible entities has +previously been recorded?" + +"Where did they come from?" + +"They may have come from anywhere in the solar system, or even from +outside it but I fancy, that they are from Mars or Venus." + +"Why so?" + +"Because they are the two planets nearest to the earth and are the ones +where conditions are the most like they are on the earth. Venus, for +example, has an atmosphere and a gravity about .83 of earthly gravity, +and life of a sort similar to that of the earth might well live there. +Further, it seems more probable that the invaders have come from one of +the nearby planets than from the realms of space beyond the solar +system." + +"What about the moon?" + +"We can dismiss that because of the lack of an atmosphere." + +"It sounds logical, Jim, but the idea of living organisms of sufficient +size to lift a child into the air who are invisible seems a little +absurd." + +"I never said they were invisible. I don't think they are." + +"But they must be, else why weren't they seen?" + +"Use your head, First Mortgage. Those purple amoeba we encountered were +quite visible to us, yet they are invisible to observers on the earth." + +"Yes, but that is because the heaviside layer is between them and the +earth. As soon as they come below it they can be seen." + + * * * * * + +"Exactly. Why is it not possible that the Venetians, or Martians, or +whoever our invaders are, have encased themselves and their space flyer +in a layer of some substance similar to the heaviside layer, a substance +which is permeable to light rays only when a large proportion of +ultra-violet rays accompany the visible rays? If they did this and then +constructed the walls of their ship of some substance which absorbed all +the ultra-violet rays which fell on it; not only would the ship itself +be invisible, but also everything contained in it--and yet they could +see the outside world easily. That such _is_ the case is proved by the +disappearance of those children in mid-air. They were taken into a space +ship behind an ultra-violet absorbing wall and so became invisible." + +"If the walls absorbed all the ultra-violet and were impermeable to +light without ultra-violet, the ship would appear as a black opaque +substance and could be seen." + +"That would be true except for one thing which you are forgetting. The +heaviside layer, as I have repeatedly proved, is a splendid conductor of +ultra-violet. The rays falling on it are probably bent along the line of +the covering layer so that they open up and bend around the ship in the +same manner as flowing water will open up and flow around a stone and +then come together again. The light must flow around the solid ship and +then join again in such a manner that the eye can detect no +interruption." + +"Jim, all that sounds reasonable, but have you any proof of it?" + +"No, First Mortgage, I haven't--yet; but if the Lord is good to us we'll +have definite proof this afternoon and be in a position to successfully +combat this new menace to the world." + +"Do you expect me to go on another one of your crack-brained expeditions +into the unknown with you?" + + * * * * * + +"Certainly I do, but this time we won't go out of the known. I have our +old space flyer which we took beyond the heaviside layer six years ago +ready for action and we're going to look for the invaders this +afternoon." + +"How will we see them if they are invisible?" + +"They are invisible to ordinary light but not to ultra-violet light. +While most of the ultra-violet is deflected and flows around the ship or +else is absorbed, I have an idea that, if we bathe it in a sufficient +concentration of ultra-violet, some would be reflected. We are going to +look for the reflected portion." + +"Ultra-violet light is invisible." + +"It is to the eye, but it can be detected. You know that radium is +activated and glows under ultra-violet?" + +"Yes." + +"Mounted on our flyer are six ultra-violet searchlights. By the side of +each one is a wide angle telescopic concentrator which will focus any +reflected ultra-violet onto a radium coated screen and thus make it +visible to us. In effect the apparatus is a camera obscura with all lens +made of rock crystal or fused quartz, both of which allow free passage +to ultra-violet." + +"What will we do if we find them?" + +"Mounted beneath the telescope is a one-pounder gun with radite shells. +If we locate them, we will use our best efforts to shoot them down." + +"Suppose they are armed too?" + + * * * * * + +"In that case I hope that you shoot faster and straighter than they do. +If you don't--well, old man, it'll just be too damned bad." + +"I don't know that the _Clarion_ hires me to go out and shoot at +invisible invaders from another planet, but if I don't go with you, I +expect you'd just about call up the _Echo_ or the _Gazette_ and ask them +for a gunner." + +"Just about." + +"In that case, I may as well be sacrificed as anyone else. When do we +start?" + +"You old faker!" cried Jim, pounding me on the back. "You wouldn't miss +the trip for anything. If you're ready we'll start right now. Everything +is ready." + +"Including the sacrifice," I replied, rising. "All right, Jim, let's go +and get it over with. If we live, I'll have to get back in time to +telephone the story to McQuarrie for the first edition." + +I followed Jim out of the laboratory and to a large open space behind +the main building where the infra-red generators with which he had +pierced the hole through the heaviside layer had been located. The +reflectors were still in place, but the bank of generators had been +removed. A gang of men were hard at work erecting a huge parabolic +reflector in the center of the circle, about the periphery of which the +infra-red reflectors were placed. In an open space near the center stood +a Hadley space ship, toward which Jim led the way. + + * * * * * + +I wondered at the activity and meant to ask what it portended, but in +the excitement of boarding the flyer forgot it. I followed Jim in; he +closed the door and started the air conditioner. + +"Here, First Mortgage," he said as he turned from the control board and +faced me, "here are the fluoroscopic screens. They are arranged in a +bank, so that you can keep an eye on all of them readily. Beneath each +telescope is an automatic one-pounder gun with its mount geared to the +telescope and the light, so that the gun bears continually on the point +in space represented by the center of the fluoroscopic screen which +belongs to that light. If we locate anything, turn your beam until the +object is in the exact center of the screen where these two cross-hairs +are. When you have it lined up, push this button and the gun will fire." + +"What about reloading?" + +"The guns are self-loading. Each one has twenty shells in its magazine +and will fire one shot each time the button is pushed until it is empty. +If you empty one magazine, I can turn the ship so that another gun will +bear. This gives you a total of one hundred and twenty shots quickly +available; there are sixty extra rounds, which we can break out and load +into the magazines in a few seconds. Do you understand everything?" + +"I guess so. Everything seems clear enough." + +"All right; sit down and we'll start." + + * * * * * + +I took my seat, and Jim pulled the starting lever. I was glued to the +seat and the heavy springs in the cushion were compressed almost to +their limit by the sudden acceleration. As soon as we were well clear +of the ground Jim reduced his power, and in a few moments we were +floating motionless in the air, a thousand feet up. He left the control +board and came to my side. + +"Start your ultra lights," he said as he joined me. "We may be able to +spot something from here." + +I started the lights and we stared at the screens before us. Nothing +appeared on any of them except the one pointing directly down, and only +an image of the ground, appeared on it. Under Jim's tutelage I swung the +beams in wide circles, covering the space around us, but nothing +appeared. + +"Those beams won't project over five miles in this atmosphere," he said, +"and the ship we are looking for may be so small that we would have +trouble locating it at any great distance. I am going to move over near +the scene of the last disappearance. Keep your lights swinging and sing +out if you see anything on the screens." + +I could feel the ship start to move slowly under the force of a side +discharge from the rocket motor, and I swung the beams of the six lights +around, trying to cover the entire area about us. Nothing appeared on +the screens for an hour, and my head began to ache from the strain of +unremitting close observation of the glowing screens. A buzz sounding +over the hum of the rocket motor attracted my attention; Jim pulled his +levers to neutral with the exception of the one which maintained our +elevation and stepped to an instrument on the wall of the flyer. + +"Hello," he called. "What? Where did it happen? All right, thanks, we'll +move over that way at once." + + * * * * * + +He turned from the radio telephone and spoke. + +"Another disappearance has just been reported," he said. "It happened on +the outskirts of Pasadena. Keep your eyes open: I'm going to head in +that direction." + +A few minutes later we were floating over Pasadena. Jim stopped the +flyer and joined me at the screens. We swung our beams in wide circles +to cover the entire area around us, but no image on the screens rewarded +us. + +"Doggone it, they must have left here in a hurry," grumbled Jim. + +Even as he spoke the flyer gave a lurch which nearly threw me off my +seat and which sent Jim sprawling on the floor. With a white face he +leaped to the control board and pulled the lever controlling our one +working stern motor to full power. For a moment the ship moved upward +and then came to a dead stop, although the motor still roared at full +speed. + +"Can't you see anything, Pete?" cried Jim as he threw our second stern +motor into gear. + +Again the ship moved upward for a few feet and then stopped. I swung the +searchlights frantically in all directions, but five of the screens +remained blank and the sixth showed only the ground below us. + +"Not a thing," I replied. + +"Something ought to show," he muttered, and suddenly shut off both +motors. The flyer gave a sickening lurch toward the ground, but we fell +only a hundred yards before our motion stopped. We hung suspended in the +air with no motors working. Jim joined me at the screens and we swung +the lights rapidly without success. + +"Look, Pete!" Jim cried hoarsely. + + * * * * * + +My gaze followed his pointing finger and I saw the door of our flyer +springing out as though some force from the outside were trying to +wrench it open. The pull ceased for an instant, then came again; the +sturdy latches burst and the door was torn from its hinges. Jim swung +one of the searchlights until the beam was at right angles to the hull +of the flyer and pressed the gun button. A crash filled the confined +space of the flyer as a one-pounder radite shell tore out into space. + +"They're there but still invisible," he exclaimed as he shifted the +direction of the gun and fired again. "I am shooting by guess-work, but +I might score a hit." + +He changed the direction of the gun again, but before he could press the +button he was lifted into the air and drawn rapidly toward the open +door. + +"Shoot, Pete!" he shouted. "Shoot and keep on shooting--it's your only +chance!" + +I turned to the knobs controlling the guns and lights, but, before I +could make a move, something hard and cold grasped me about the middle +and I was lifted into the air and drawn toward the open door after Jim. +I tore at the thing holding me with my hands, but it was a smooth round +thing like a two-inch thick wire, and I could get no grip on it to +loosen it. Out through the door I went and was drawn through the air a +few feet behind Jim. He moved ahead of me for fifteen or twenty feet and +then vanished in mid-air. I dared not struggle in mid-air and I was +drawn through a door into a large space flyer which became visible as I +entered it. The flexible wire or rod which had held me uncoiled and I +was free on the floor beside Jim Carpenter. This much was clear and +understandable, but when I looked at the crew of that space ship, I was +sure that I had lost my mind or was seeing visions. I had naturally +expected men, or at least something in semi-human form, but instead of +anything of the sort, before me stood a dozen gigantic beetles! + + * * * * * + +I rubbed my eyes and looked again. There was no mistaking the fact that +we had been captured by a race of gigantic beetles flying an invisible +space ship. When I had time later to examine them critically, I could +see marked differences between our captors and the beetles we were +accustomed to see on the earth besides the mere matter of size. To begin +with, their bodies were relatively much smaller, the length of shell of +the largest specimen not being over four feet, while the head of the +same insect, exclusive of the horns or pinchers, was a good eighteen +inches in length. The pinchers, which by all beetle proportions should +have been a couple of feet long at the least, did not extend over the +head a distance greater than eight inches, although they were sturdy and +powerful. + +Instead of traveling with their shells horizontal as do earthly beetles, +these insects stood erect on their two lower pairs of legs, which were +of different lengths so that all four feet touched the ground when the +shell was vertical. The two upper pairs of legs were used as arms, the +topmost pair[A] being quite short and splitting out at the end into four +flexible claws about five inches long, which they used as fingers. These +upper arms, which sprouted from a point near the top of the head, were +peculiar in that they apparently had no joints like the other three +pairs but were flexible like an elephant's trunk. The second pair of +arms were armed with long, vicious-looking hooks. The backplates +concealed only very rudimentary wings, not large enough to enable the +insects to fly, although Jim told me later that they could fly on their +own planet, where the lessened gravity made such extensive wing supports +as would be needed on earth unnecessary. + +[Footnote A: Mr. Bond has made a laughable error in his description. +Like all of the coleoptera, the Mercurians were hexapoda (six legged). +What Mr. Bond continually refers to in his narrative as "upper arms" +were really the antenna of the insects which split at the end into four +flexible appendages resembling fingers. His mistake is a natural one, +for the Mercurians used their antenna as extra arms.--James S. +Carpenter.] + +The backplates were a brilliant green in color, with six-inch stripes of +chrome yellow running lengthwise and crimson spots three inches in +diameter arranged in rows between the stripes. Their huge-faceted eyes +sparkled like crystal when the light fell on them, and from time to time +waves of various colors passed over them, evidently reflecting the +insect's emotions. Although they gave the impression of great muscular +power, their movements were slow and sluggish, and they seemed to have +difficulty in getting around. + + * * * * * + +As my horrified gaze took in these monstrosities I turned with a shudder +to Jim Carpenter. + +"Am I crazy, Jim," I asked, "or do you see these things too?" + +"I see them all right, Pete," he replied. "It isn't as surprising as it +seems at first glance. You expected to find human beings; so did I, but +what reason had we for doing so? It is highly improbable, when you come +to consider the matter, that evolution should take the same course +elsewhere as it did on earth. Why not beetles, or fish, or horned toads, +for that matter?" + +"No reason, I guess," I answered; "I just hadn't expected anything of +the sort. What do you suppose they mean to do with us?" + +"I haven't any idea, old man. We'll just have to wait and see. I'll try +to talk to them, although I don't expect much luck at it." + +He turned to the nearest beetle and slowly and clearly spoke a few +words. The insect gave no signs of comprehension, although it watched +the movement of Jim's lips carefully. It is my opinion, and Jim agrees +with me, that the insects were both deaf and dumb, for during the entire +time we were associated with them, we never heard them give forth a +sound under any circumstances, nor saw them react to any sound that we +made. Either they had some telepathic means of communication or else +they made and heard sounds beyond the range of the human ear, for it was +evident from their actions that they frequently communicated with one +another. + + * * * * * + +When Jim failed in his first attempt to communicate he looked around for +another method. He noticed my notebook, which had fallen on the floor +when I was set down; he picked it up and drew a pencil from his pocket. +The insects watched his movements carefully, and when he had made a +sketch in the book, the nearest one took it from him and examined it +carefully and then passed it to another one, who also examined it. The +sketch which Jim had drawn showed the outline of the Hadley space flyer +from which he had been taken. When the beetles had examined the sketch, +one of them stepped to an instrument board in the center of the ship and +made an adjustment. Then he pointed with one of his lower arms. + +We looked in the direction in which he pointed; to our astonishment, the +walls of the flyer seemed to dissolve, or at least to become perfectly +transparent. The floor of the space ship was composed of some silvery +metal, and from it had risen walls of the same material, but now the +effect was as though we were suspended in mid-air, with nothing either +around us or under us. I gasped and grabbed at the instrument board for +support. Then I felt foolish as I realized that there was no change in +the feel of the floor for all its transparency and that we were not +falling. + + * * * * * + +A short distance away we could see our flyer suspended in the air, held +up by two long flexible rods or wires similar to those which had lifted +us from our ship into our prison. I saw a dozen more of these rods +coiled up, hanging in the air, evidently, but really on the floor near +the edge of the flyer, ready for use. Jim suddenly grasped me by the +arm. + +"Look behind you in a moment," he said, "but don't start!" + +He took the notebook in his hand and started to draw a sketch. I looked +behind as he had told me to. Hanging in the air in a position which told +me that they must have been in a different compartment of the flyer, +were five children. They were white as marble, and lay perfectly +motionless. + +"Are they dead, Jim?" I asked in a low voice without looking at him. + +"I don't know," he replied, "but we'll find out a little later. I am +relieved to find them here, and I doubt if they are harmed." + +The sketch which he was making was one of the solar system, and, when he +had finished, he marked the earth with a cross and handed the notebook +to one of the beetles. The insect took it and showed it to his +companions; so far as I was able to judge expressions, they were amazed +to find that we had knowledge of the heavenly bodies. The beetle took +Jim's pencil in one of its hands and, after examining it carefully, made +a cross on the circle which Jim had drawn to represent the planet +Mercury. + + * * * * * + +"They come from Mercury," exclaimed Jim in surprise as he showed me the +sketch. "That accounts for a good many things; why they are so +lethargic, for one thing. Mercury is much smaller than the earth and the +gravity is much less. According to Mercurian standards, they must weigh +a ton each. It is quite a tribute to their muscular development that +they can move and support their weight against our gravity. They can +understand a drawing all right, so we have a means of communicating with +them, although a pretty slow one and dependent entirely on my limited +skill as a cartoonist. I wonder if we are free to move about?" + +"The only way to find out is to try," I replied and stood erect. The +beetles offered no objection and Jim stood up beside me. We walked, or +rather edged, our way toward the side of the ship. The insects watched +us when we started to move and then evidently decided that we were +harmless. They turned from us to the working of the ship. One of them +manipulated some dials on the instrument board. One of the rods which +held our flyer released its grip, came in toward the Mercurian ship and +coiled itself up on the floor, or the place where the floor should have +been. The insect touched another dial. Jim threw caution to the winds, +raced across the floor and grasped the beetle by the arm. + +The insect looked at him questioningly; Jim produced the notebook and +drew a sketch representing our flyer falling. On the level be had used +to represent the ground he made another sketch of it lying in ruins. The +beetle nodded comprehendingly and turned to another dial; the ship sank +slowly toward the ground. + + * * * * * + +We sank until we hung only a few feet from the ground when our flyer was +gently lowered down. When it rested on the ground, the wire which had +held it uncoiled, came aboard and coiled itself up beside the others. As +the Mercurian ship rose I noticed idly that the door which had been torn +from our ship and dropped lay within a few yards of the ship itself. The +Mercurian ship rose to an elevation of a hundred feet, drifting gently +over the city. + +As we rose I determined to try the effect of my personality on the +beetles. I approached the one who seemed to be the leader and, putting +on the most woeful expression I could muster, I looked at the floor. He +did not understand me and I pretended that I was falling and grasped at +him. This time he nodded and stepped to the instrument board. In a +moment the floor became visible. I thanked him as best I could in +pantomime and approached the walls. They were so transparent that I felt +an involuntary shrinking as I approached them. I edged my way cautiously +forward until my outstretched hand encountered a solid substance. I +looked out. + +At the slow speed we were traveling the drone of our motors was hardly +audible to us, and I felt sure that it could not be heard on the ground. +Once their curiosity was satisfied, our captors paid little or no +attention to me and left me free to come and go as I wished. I made my +way cautiously toward the children, but ran into a solid wall. +Remembering Jim's words, I made my way back toward him without +displaying any interest. + + * * * * * + +Jim could probably have wandered around as I did had he wished, but he +chose to occupy his time differently. With his notebook and pencil he +carried on an extensive conversation, if that term can be applied to a +crudely executed set of drawings, with the leader of the beetles. I was +not especially familiar with the methods of control of space ships and I +could make nothing of the maze of dials and switches on the instrument +board. + +For half an hour we drifted slowly along. Presently one of the beetles +approached, seized my arm and turned me about. With one of his arms he +pointed ahead. A mile away I could see another space flyer similar to +the one we were on. + +"Here comes another one, Jim." I called. + +"Yes, I saw it some time ago. I don't know where the third one is." + +"Are there three of them?" + +"Yes. Three of them came here yesterday and are exploring the country +round about here. They are scouts sent out from the fleet of our brother +planet to see if the road was clear and what the world was like. They +spotted the hole through the layer with their telescope and sent their +fleet out to pay us a visit. He tells me that the scouts have reported +favorably and that the whole fleet, several thousand ships, as near as I +can make out, are expected here this evening." + +"Have you solved the secret of their invisibility?" + + * * * * * + +"Partly. It is as I expected. The walls of the ship are double, the +inner one of metal and the outer one of vitrolene or some similar +perfectly transparent substance. The space between the walls is filled +with some substance which will bend both visible and ultra-violet rays +along a path around the ship and then lets them go in their original +direction. The reason why we can see through the walls and see the +protective coating of that ship coming is that they are generating some +sort of a ray here which acts as a carrier for the visible light rays. I +don't know what sort of a ray it is, but when I get a good look at their +generators, I may be able to tell. Are you beginning to itch and burn?" + +"Yes, I believe that I am, although I hadn't noticed it until you +spoke." + +"I have been noticing it for some time. From its effects on the skin, I +am inclined to believe it to be a ray of very short wave-length, +possibly something like our X-ray, or even shorter." + +"Have you found out what they intend to do with us?" + +"I don't think they have decided yet. Possibly they are going to take us +up to the leader of their fleet and let him decide. The cuss that is in +command of this ship seems surprised to death to find out that I can +comprehend the principles of his ship. He seems to think that I am a +sort of a rara avis, a freak of nature. He intimated that he would +recommend that we be used for vivisection." + +"Good Lord!" + +"It's not much more worse than the fate they design for the rest of +their captives, at that." + +"What is that?" + +"It's a long story that I'll have to tell you later. I want to watch +this meeting." + + * * * * * + +The other ship had approached to within a few yards and floated +stationary, while some sort of communication was exchanged between the +two. I could not fathom the method used, but the commander of our craft +clamped what looked like a pair of headphones against his body and +plugged the end of a wire leading from them into his instrument board. +From time to time various colored lights glowed on the board before +him. After a time he uncoupled his device from the board, and one of the +long rods shot out from our ship to the other. It returned in a moment +clamped around the body of a young girl. As the came on board, she was +lowered onto the deck beside the other children. Like them, she was +stiff and motionless. I gave an exclamation and sprang forward. + +"Pete!" + +Jim's voice recalled me to myself, and I watched the child laid with the +others with as disinterested an expression as I could muster. I had +never made a mistake in following Jim Carpenter's lead and I knew that +somewhere in his head a plan was maturing which might offer us some +chance of escape. + +Our ship moved ahead down a long slant, gradually dropping nearer to the +ground. I watched the maneuver with interest while Jim, with his friend +the beetle commander, went over the ship. The insect was evidently +amused at Jim and was determined to find out the limits of his +intelligence, for he pointed out various controls and motors of the ship +and made elaborate sketches which Jim seemed to comprehend fairly well. + + * * * * * + +One of the beetles approached the control board and motioned me back. I +stepped away from the board; evidently a port in the side of the vessel +opened, for I felt a breath of air and could hear the hum of the city. I +walked to the side and glanced down, and found that we were floating +about twenty feet off the ground over a street on the edge of the city. +On the street a short distance ahead of us two children, evidently +returning from school, to judge by the books under their arms, were +walking unsuspectingly along. A turn of the dial sped up our motors, and +as the hum rang out in a louder key the children looked upward. Two of +the long flexible wires shot out and wrapped themselves about the +children; screaming, they were lifted into the space flyer. The port +through which they came in shut with a clang and the ship rose rapidly +into the air. The children were released from the wires which coiled +themselves up on deck and the beetle who had operated them stepped +forward and grasped the nearer of the children, a boy of about eleven, +by the arm. He raised the boy, who was paralyzed with terror, up toward +his head and gazed steadily into his eyes. Slowly the boy ceased +struggling and became white and rigid. The beetle laid him on the deck +and turned to the girl. Involuntarily I gave a shout and sprang forward, +but Jim grasped me by the arm. + +"Keep quiet, you darned fool!" he cried. "We can do nothing now. Wait +for a chance!" + +"We can't stand here and see murder done!" I protested. + +"It's not murder. Pete, those children aren't being hurt. They are being +hypnotized so that they can be transported to Mercury." + +"Why are they taking them to Mercury?" I demanded. + +"As nearly as I can make out, there is a race of men up there who are +subject to these beetles. This ship is radium propelled, and the men and +women are the slaves who work in the radium mines. Of course the workers +soon become sexless, but others are kept for breeding purposes to keep +the race alive. Through generations of in-breeding, the stock is about +played out and are getting too weak to be of much value. + +"The Mercurians have been studying the whole universe to find a race +which will serve their purpose and they have chosen us to be the +victims. When their fleet gets here, they plan to capture thousands of +selected children and carry them to Mercury in order to infuse their +blood into the decadent race of slaves they have. Those who are not +suitable for breeding when they grow up will die as slaves in the radium +mines." + + * * * * * + +"Horrible!" I gasped. "Why are they taking children, Jim? Wouldn't +adults suit their purpose better?" + +"They are afraid to take adults. On Mercury an earthman would have +muscles of unheard of power and adults would constantly strive to rise +against their masters. By getting children, they hope to raise them to +know nothing else than a life of slavery and get the advantage of their +strength without risk. It is a clever scheme." + +"And are we to stand here and let them do it?" + +"Not on your life, but we had better hold easy for a while. If I can get +a few minutes more with that brute I'll know enough about running this +ship that we can afford to do away with them. You have a pistol, haven't +you?" + +"No." + +"The devil! I thought you had. I have an automatic, but it only carries +eight shells. There are eleven of these insects and unless we can get +the jump on them, they'll do us. I saw what looks like a knife lying +near the instrument board; get over near it and get ready to grab it as +soon as you hear my pistol. These things are deaf and if I work it right +I may be able to do several of them in before they know what's +happening. When you attack, don't try to ram them in the back; their +backplates are an inch thick and will be proof against a knife thrust. +Aim at their eyes; if you can blind them, they'll be helpless. Do you +understand?" + +"I'll do my best, Jim," I replied. "Since you have told me their plans I +am itching to get at them." + + * * * * * + +I edged over toward the knife, but as I did so I saw a better weapon. On +the floor lay a bar of silvery metal about thirty inches long and an +inch in diameter. I picked it up and toyed with it idly, meanwhile +edging around to get behind the insect which I had marked for my first +attentions. Jim was talking again by means of the notebook with his +beetle friend. They walked around the ship, examining everything in it. + +"Are you ready, Pete?" came Jim's voice at last. + +"All set," I replied, getting a firmer grasp on my bar and edging toward +one of the insects. + +"Well, don't start until I fire. You notice the bug I am talking to? +Don't kill him unless you have to. This ship is a little too complicated +for me to fathom, so I want this fellow taken prisoner. We'll use him as +our engineer when we take control." + +"I understand." + +"All right, get ready." + +I kept my eye on Jim. He had drawn the beetle with whom he was talking +to a position where they were behind the rest. Jim pointed at something +behind the insect's back and the beetle turned. As it did so, Jim +whipped out his pistol and, taking careful aim, fired at one of the +insects. + +As the sound of the shot rang out I raised my bar and leaped forward. I +brought it down with crushing force on the head of the nearest beetle. +My victim fell forward, and I heard Jim's pistol bark again; but I had +no time to watch him. As the beetle I struck fell the others turned and +I had two of them coming at me with outstretched arms, ready to grasp +me. I swung my bar, and the arm of one of them fell limp; but the other +seized me with both its hands, and I felt the cruel hooks of its lower +arms against the small of my back. + + * * * * * + +One of my arms was still free; I swung my bar again, and it struck my +captor on the back of the head. It was stunned by the blow and fell. I +seized the knife from the floor, and threw myself down beside it and +struck at its eyes, trying to roll it over so as to protect me from the +other who was trying to grasp me. + +I felt hands clutch me from behind; I was wrenched loose from the body +of my victim and lifted into the air. I was turned about and stared +hard into the implacable crystalline eyes of one of the insects. For a +moment my senses reeled and then, without volition, I dropped my bar. I +remembered the children and realized that I was being hypnotized. I +fought against the feeling, but my senses reeled and I almost went limp, +when the sound of a pistol shot, almost in my ear, roused me. The spell +of the beetle was momentarily broken. I thrust the knife which I still +grasped at the eyes before me. My blow went home, but the insect raised +me and bent me toward him until my head lay on top of his and the huge +horns which adorned his head began to close. Another pistol shot +sounded, and I was suddenly dropped. + +I grasped my bar as I fell and leaped up. The flyer was a shambles. Dead +insects lay on all sides while Jim, smoking pistol in hand, was staring +as though fascinated into the eyes of one of the surviving beetles. I +ran forward and brought my bar down on the insect's head, but as I did +so I was grasped from behind. + +"Jim, help!" I cried as I was swung into the air. The insect whirled me +around and then threw me to the floor. I had an impression of falling; +then everything dissolved in a flash of light. I was unconscious only +for a moment, and I came to to find Jim Carpenter standing over me, +menacing my assailant with his gun. + +"Thanks, Jim," I said faintly. + +"If you're conscious again, get up and get your bar," he replied. "My +pistol is empty and I don't know how long I can run a bluff on this +fellow." + + * * * * * + +I scrambled to my feet and grasped the bar. Jim stepped behind me and +reloaded his pistol. + +"All right," he said when he had finished. "I'll take charge of this +fellow. Go around and see if the rest are dead. If they aren't when you +find them, see that they are when you leave them. We're taking no +prisoners." + +I went the rounds of the prostrate insects. None of them were beyond +moving except two whose heads had been crushed by my bar, but I obeyed +Jim's orders. When I rejoined him with my bloody bar, the only beetle +left alive was the commander, whom Jim was covering with his pistol. + +"Take the gun," he said when I reported my actions, "and give me the +bar." + +We exchanged weapons and Jim turned to the captive. + +"Now, old fellow," he said grimly, "either you run this ship as I want +you to, or you're a dead Indian. Savvy?" + +He took his pencil and notebook from his pocket and drew a sketch of our +Hadley space ship. On the other end of the sheet he drew a picture of +the Mercurian ship, and then drew a line connecting the two. The insect +looked at the sketch but made no movement. + +"All right, if that's the way you feel about it," said Jim. He raised +the bar and brought it down with crushing force on one of the insect's +lower arms. The arm fell as though paralyzed and a blue light played +across the beetle's eyes. Jim extended the sketch again and raised the +bar threateningly. The beetle moved over to the control board, Jim +following closely, and set the ship in motion. Ten minutes later it +rested on the ground beside the ship in which we had first taken the +air. + + * * * * * + +Following Jim's pictured orders the beetle opened the door of the +Mercurian ship and followed Jim into the Hadley. As we emerged from the +Mercurian ship I looked back. It had vanished completely. + +"The children, Jim!" I gasped. + +"I haven't forgotten them," he replied, "but they are all right for the +present. If we turned them loose now, we'd have ninety reporters around +us in ten minutes. I want to get our generators modified first." + +He pointed toward the spot where the Mercurian ship had stood and then +toward our generators. The beetle hesitated, but Jim swung his bar +against the insect's side in a vicious blow. Again came the play of blue +light over the eyes; the beetle bent over our generaters and set to +work. Jim handed me the bar and bent over to help. They were both +mechanics of a high order and they worked well together; in an hour the +beetle started the generators and swung one of the searchlights toward +his old ship. It leaped into view on the radium coated screen. + +"Good business!" ejaculated Jim. "We'll repair this door; then we'll be +ready to release the children and start out." + + * * * * * + +We followed the beetle into the Mercurian ship, which it seemed to be +able to see. It opened a door leading into another compartment of the +flyer, and before us lay the bodies of eight children. The beetle lifted +the first one, a little girl, up until his many-faceted eyes looked full +into the closed ones of the child. There was a flicker of an eyelash, a +trace of returning color, and then a scream of terror from the child. +The beetle set the girl down and Jim bent over her. + +"It's all right now, little lady," he said, clumsily smoothing her hair. + +"You're safe now. Run along to your mother. First Mortgage, take charge +of her and take her outside. It isn't well for children to see these +things." + +The child clung to my hand: I led her out of the ship, which promptly +vanished as we left it. One by one, seven other children joined us, the +last one, a miss of not over eight, in Jim's arms. The beetle followed +behind him. + +"Do any of you know where you are?" asked Jim as he came out. + +"I do, sir," said one of the boys. "I live close to here." + +"All right, take these youngsters to your house and tell your mother to +telephone their parents to come and get them. If anyone asks you what +happened, tell them to see Jim Carpenter to-morrow. Do you understand?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"All right, run along then. Now, First Mortgage, let's go hunting." + + * * * * * + +We wired our captive up so securely that I felt that there was no +possible chance of his escape; then, with Jim at the controls and me at +the guns, we fared forth in search of the invaders. Back and forth over +the city we flew without sighting another spaceship in the air. Jim gave +an exclamation of impatience and swung on a wider circle, which took us +out over the water. I kept the searchlights working. Presently, far +ahead over the water, a dark spot came into view. I called to Jim and we +approached it at top speed. + +"Don't shoot until we are within four hundred yards," cautioned Jim. + +I held my fire until we were within the specified distance. The newcomer +was another of the Mercurian space-ships; with a feeling of joy I swung +my beam until the cross-hairs of the screen rested full on the invader. + +"All ready!" I sung out. + +"If you are ready, Gridley, you may fire!" replied Jim. I pressed the +gun button. The crash of the gun was followed by another report from +outside as the radite shell burst against the Mercurian flyer. The +deadly explosive did its work, and the shattered remains of the wreck +fell, to be engulfed in the sea below. + +"That's one!" cried Jim. "I'm afraid we won't have time to hunt up the +other right now. This bug told me that the other Mercurians are due here +to-day, and I think we had better form ourselves into a reception +committee and go up to the hole to meet them." + + * * * * * + +He sent the ship at high speed over the city until we hovered over the +laboratory. We stopped for a moment, and Jim stepped to the radio +telephone. + +"Hello, Williams," he said, "how are things going? That's fine. In an +hour, you say? Well, speed it up as much as you can; we may call for it +soon." + +He turned both stern motors to full power, and we shot up like a rocket +toward the hole in the protective layer through which the invaders had +entered. In ten minutes we were at the altitude of the guard ships and +Jim asked if anything had been seen. The report was negative; Jim left +them below the layer and sent our flyer up through the hole into space. +We reached the outer surface in another ten minutes and we were none too +soon. Hardly had we debouched from the hole than ahead of us we saw +another Mercurian flyer. It was a lone one, and Jim bent over the +captive and held a hastily made sketch before him. The sketch showed +three Mercurian flyers, one on the ground, one wrecked and the third one +in the air. He touched the drawing of the one in the air and pointed +toward our port hole and looked questioningly at the beetle. The insect +inspected the flyer in space and nodded. + +"Good!" cried Jim. "That's the third of the trio who came ahead as +scouts. Get your gun ready, First Mortgage: we're going to pick him +off." + +Our ship approached the doomed Mercurian. Again I waited until we were +within four hundred yards; then I pressed the button which hurled it, a +crumpled wreck, onto the outer surface of the heaviside layer. + +"Two!" cried Jim as we backed away. + +"Here come plenty more," I cried as I swung the searchlight. Jim left +his controls, glanced at the screen and whistled softly. Dropping toward +us from space were hundreds of the Mercurian ships. + +"We got here just in time," he said. "Break out your extra ammunition +while I take to the hole. We can't hope to do that bunch alone, so we'll +fight a rearguard action." + + * * * * * + +Since our bow gun would be the only one in action, I hastily moved the +spare boxes of ammunition nearer to it while Jim maneuvered the Hadley +over the hole. As the Mercurian fleet came nearer he started a slow +retreat toward the earth. The Mercurians overtook us rapidly; Jim locked +his controls at slow speed down and hurried to the bow gun. + +"Start shooting as soon as you can," he said. "I'll keep the magazine +filled." + +I swung the gun until the cross-hairs of the screen rested full on the +leading ship and pressed the button. My aim was true, and the shattered +fragments of the ship fell toward me. The balance of the fleet slowed +down for an instant; I covered another one and pressed my button. The +ship at which I had aimed was in motion and I missed it, but I had the +satisfaction of seeing another one fall in fragments. Jim was loading +the magazine as fast as I fired. I covered another ship and fired again. +A third one of our enemies fell in ruins. The rest paused and drew off. + +"They're retreating, Jim!" I cried. + +"Cease firing until they come on again," he replied is he took the +shells from the magazines of the other guns and piled them near the bow +gun. + +I held my fire for a few minutes. The Mercurians retreated a short +distance and then came on again with a rush. Twenty times my gun went +off as fast as I could align it and press the trigger, and eighteen of +the enemy ships were in ruins. Again the Mercurians retreated. I held my +fire. We were falling more rapidly now and far below we could see the +black spots which were the guard ships. I told Jim that they were in +sight; he stepped to the radio telephone and ordered them to keep well +away from the hole. + + * * * * * + +Again the Mercurian ships came on with a rush, this time with beams of +orange light stabbing a way before them. When I told Jim of this he +jumped to the controls and shot our ship down at breakneck speed. + +"I don't know what sort of fighting apparatus they have, but I don't +care to face it," he said to me. "Fire if they get close; but I hope to +get out of the hole before they are in range." + +Fast as we fell, the Mercurians were coming faster, and they were not +over eight hundred yards from us when he reached the level of the guard +ships. Jim checked our speed; I managed to pick off three more of the +invaders before we moved away from the hole. Jim stopped the side motion +and jumped to the radio telephone. + +"Hello, Williams!" he shouted into the instrument. "Are you ready down +there? Thank God! Full power at once, please! + +"Watch what happens," he said to me, as he turned from the instrument. + +Some fifty of the Mercurian flyers had reached our level and had started +to move toward us before anything happened. Then from below came a beam +of intolerable light. Upward it struck, and the Mercurian ships on which +it impinged disappeared in a flash of light. + +"A disintegrating ray," explained Jim. "I suspected that it might be +needed and I started Williams to rigging it up early this morning. I +hated to use it because it may easily undo the work that six years have +done in healing the break in the layer, but it was necessary. That ends +the invasion, except for those ten or twelve ships ahead of us. How is +your marksmanship? Can you pick off ten in ten shots?" + +"Watch me," I said grimly as the ship started to move. + + * * * * * + +Pride goeth ever before a fall: it took me sixteen shots to demolish the +eleven ships which had escaped destruction from the ray. As the last one +fell in ruins, Jim ordered the ray shut off. We fell toward the ground. + +"What are we going to do with our prisoner?" I asked. + +Jim looked at the beetle meditatively. + +"He would make a fine museum piece if he were stuffed," he said, "but +on the whole, I think we'll let him go. He is an intelligent creature +and will probably be happier on Mercury than anywhere else. What do you +say that we put him on his ship and turn him loose?" + +"To lead another invasion?" I asked. + +"I think not. He has seen what has happened to this one and is more +likely to warn them to keep away. In any event, if we equip the guard +ships with a ray that will show the Mercurian ships up and keep the +disintegrating ray ready for action, we needn't fear another invasion. +Let's let him go." + +"It suits me all right, Jim, but I hold out for one thing. I will never +dare to face McQuarrie again if I fail to get a picture of him. I insist +on taking his photograph before we turn him loose." + +"All right, go ahead," laughed Jim. "He ought to be able to stand that, +if you'll spare him an interview." + +An hour later we watched the Mercurian flyer disappear into space. + +"I hope I've seen the last of those bugs," I said as the flyer faded +from view. + +"I don't know," said Jim thoughtfully. "If I have interpreted correctly +the drawings that creature made, there is a race of manlike bipeds on +Mercury who are slaves to those beetles and who live and die in the +horrible atmosphere of a radium mine. Some of these days I may lead an +expedition to our sister planet and look into that matter." + + + + +MECHANICAL VOICES FOR PHONE NUMBERS + + + New developments whereby science goes still farther in its + assumption of human attributes were described and demonstrated + recently by Sergius P. Grace, Assistant Vice-President of Bell + Telephone Laboratories, where the developments were conceived and + worked out. + + One development described, and soon to be put into service in New + York, transforms a telephone number dialed by a subscriber into + speech. Although the subscriber says not a word the number dialed + is spoken aloud to the operator. + + The device is expected to simplify and speed the hooking together + of automatic and voice-hand-operated telephone exchanges, and also + to speed long-distance calls from automatic phones through rural + exchanges. + + The numbers which can thus be spoken are recorded on talkie films + and those which are to go into use here have already been made, all + by an Irish girl said to have the best voice among the city's + "number, please" girls. + + Mr. Grace demonstrated this device by carrying into the audience a + telephone with a long cord connected with a loud speaker on the + stand, which represented central. A member of the audience was + requested to dial a number, and choose 5551-T, the letter T + representing the exchange. + + This number the spectator dialed on the phone Mr. Grace carried. + There was no sound but the clicking of the dial. Then, two seconds + later, the loudspeaker spoke up clearly, in an almost human voice, + "5551 T." + + As for the recording of the sound films, there is a film for each + of the ten Arabic numerals from zero to nine, and these wound on + revolving drums. The dial on the telephone automatically sets in + action the drum corresponding to the numeral moved on the dial. + + Another development which sounds promising for bashful suitors and + other timid souls, enables a person to store within himself + electrically a message he desires to deliver and then to deliver it + without speaking, simply by putting a finger to the ear of the + person for whom the message is intended. + + This Mr. Grace demonstrated. He spoke into a telephone transmitter + and his words were clearly heard by all in the audience, by means + of amplifiers. At the same time a part of the electrical current + from the amplifier, representing the sentence he voiced, was stored + in a "delay circuit," another recent invention of the laboratories. + After being stored four and a half seconds this current was + transformed to a high voltage and passed into Mr. Grace's body. He + then put his finger against the ear of a member of the audience, + who heard in his brain the same sentence. The ear drum and + surrounding tissues are made to act as one plate of a + condenser-receiver, Mr. Grace explained, with the vibrations of the + drum interpreted by the brain. + + A new magnetic metal, "perminvar," and a new insulating material, + "para gutta," which make possible construction of a telephone cable + across the Atlantic to supplement the radio systems, were also + described. Actual construction of the cable is expected to be + started in 1930, Mr. Grace said. + + + + +[Illustration: _The flight was hovering above the first fire-ball._] + +Earth, the Marauder + +CONCLUSION OF A THREE-PART NOVEL + +_By Arthur J. Burks_ + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +_Desolation_ + + +Stranger, more thrilling even than had been the flight of the Earth +after being forced out of its orbit, was the flight of those dozen +aircars of the Moon, bearing the rebels of Dalis' Gens back to Earth. + +[Sidenote: Martian fire-balls and the terrific Moon-cubes wreak +tremendous destruction on helpless Earth in the final death struggle of +the warring worlds.] + +For the light which glowed from the bodies of the rebels, which had been +given them by their passage through the white flames, was transmitted to +the cars themselves, so that they glowed as with an inner radiance of +their own--like comets flashing across the night. + +Strange alchemy, which Sarka wondered about and, wondering, looked ahead +to the time when he should be able, within his laboratory, to analyze +the force it embodied, and thus gain new scientific knowledge of untold +value to people of the Earth. + +As the cars raced across outer darkness, moving at top speed, greater +than ever attained before by man, greater than even these mighty cars +had traveled, Sarka looked ahead, and wondered about the fearful report +his father had just given him. + +That there was an alliance between Mars and the Moon seemed almost +unbelievable. How had they managed the first contact, the first +negotiations leading to the compact between two such alien peoples? Had +there been any flights exchanged by the two worlds, surely the +scientists of Earth would have known about it. But there had not, though +there had been times and times when Sarka had peered closely enough at +the surface of both the Moon and of Mars to see the activities, or the +results of the activities, of the peoples of the two worlds. + +Somehow, however, communication, if Sarka the Second had guessed +correctly, had been managed between Mars and the Moon; and now that the +Earth was a free flying orb the two were in alliance against it, perhaps +for the same reason that the Earth had gone a-voyaging. + + * * * * * + +Side by side sat Sarka and Jaska, their eager eyes peering through the +forward end of the flashing aircar toward the Earth, growing minute by +minute larger. They were able, after some hours, to make out the +outlines of what had once been continents, to see the shadows in valleys +which had once held the oceans of Earth.... + +And always, as they stared and literally willed the cubes which piloted +and were the motive power of the aircars to speed and more speed, that +marvelous display of interplanetary fireworks which had aroused the +concern of Sarka the Second. + +What were those lights? Whence did they emanate? Sarka the Second had +said that they came from Mars, yet Mars was invisible to those in the +speeding aircars, which argued that it was hidden behind the Earth. +There was no way of knowing how close it was to the home of these rebels +of Dalis' Gens. + +And ever, as they flashed forward, Sarka was recalling that vague hint +on the lips of Jaska, to the effect that Luar, for all her sovereignty +of the Moon, might be, nonetheless, a native of the Earth. But.... + +How? Why? When? There were no answers to any of the questions yet. If +she were a native of Earth, how had she reached the Moon? When had she +been sent there? Who was she? Her name, Luar, was a strange one, and +Sarka studied it for many minutes, rolling the odd syllables of it over +his tongue, wondering where, on the Earth, he had heard names, or words, +similar to it. This produced no result, until he tried substituting +various letters; then, again, adding various letters. When he achieved a +certain result at last, he gasped, and his brain was a-whirl. + + * * * * * + +Luar, by the addition of the letter _n_, between the _u_ and the _a_, +became Lunar, meaning "of the Moon!" Yet Lunar was unmistakably a word +derived from the language of the Earth! It was possible, of course, that +this was mere coincidence; but, taken in connection with the suspicions +of Jaska, and the incontrovertible fact that Luar resembled people of +the Earth, Sarka did not believe in this particular whim of coincidence. + +Who was Luar? + +His mind went back to the clucking sounds which, among the Gnomes of the +Moon, passed for speech. He pondered anew. He shaped his lips, as nearly +as possible, to make the clucking sounds he had heard, and discovered +that it was very difficult to manage the letter _n_! + +The conclusion was inescapable: This woman, Luar, had once been _Lunar_, +the _n_, down the centuries, being dropped because difficult for the +Gnomes to pronounce. + +"Yes, Jaska," he said suddenly, "somewhere on Earth, when we reach it, +we may discover the secret of Luar--and know far more about Dalis than +we have ever known before!" + +Jaska merely smiled her inscrutable smile, and did not answer. By +intuition, she already knew. Let Sarka arrive at her conclusion by +scientific methods if he desired, and she would simply smile anew. + +Sarka thought of the manner in which Jaska and he had been transported +to the Moon; of how much Dalis seemed to know of the secrets of the +laboratory of the Sarkas. Might he not have known, two centuries ago, of +the Secret Exit Dome, and somehow managed to make use of it in some +ghastly experiment? And still the one question remained unanswered: Who +was Luar? + + * * * * * + +The Earth was now so close that details were plainly seen. The Himalayas +were out of sight, over the Earth, and by a mental command Sarka managed +to change slightly the course of the dozen aircars. By passing over the +curve of the Earth at a high altitude, he hoped also to see from above +something of the result of the strange aerial bombardment of which his +father had spoken. + +In their flight, which had been, to them a flight through the glories of +a super-heavenly Universe, they had lost all count of time. Neither +Sarka nor Jaska, nor yet the people in those other aircars, could have +told how long they had been flying, when, coming over the curve of the +Earth, at an elevation of something like three miles, they were able at +last to see into the area which had once housed the Gens of Dalis. + +A gasp of horror escaped the lips of Sarka and of Jaska. + +The Gens of Dalis had occupied all the territory northward to the Pole, +from a line drawn east and west through the southernmost of what had +once been the Hawaiian Islands. Upon this area had struck the strange +blue light from the deep Cone of the Moon. + +Here, however, the light was invisible, and Sarka flew on in fear that +somehow his aircars would blunder into it, and be destroyed--for that +the blue light was an agent of ghastly destruction became instantly +apparent. + + * * * * * + +The dwellings of the Gens of Dalis were broken and smashed into chaotic +ruins. Over all the area, and even into the area of the Gens southward +of that which had been Dalis, the blind gods of destruction had +practically made a clean sweep. Sarka had opportunity to thank God that, +at the time the blue column had struck the Earth, it had struck at the +spot which had been almost emptied of people, and realized that blind +chance had caused it. For, in order for the Gens of Dalis to be in +position to launch their attack against the Moon, he had managed, by +manipulating the speed of the Beryls, to bring that area into position +directly opposite the Moon. + +Had it been otherwise, the blue column might have struck anywhere, and +wiped out millions of lives! + +"God, Jaska," murmured Sarka. "Look!" + +Think of a shoreline, once lined with mighty buildings, after the +passage of a tidal wave greater than ever before known to man. The +devastation would be indescribable. Multiply that shoreline by the vast +area which had housed the Gens of Dalis, and the mental picture is +almost too big to grasp. Chaos, catastrophe, approaching an infinity of +destruction. + +The materials of which the vast buildings, set close together, had been +made, had been twisted into grotesque, nightmarish shapes, and the whole +fused into a burned and gleaming mass--which covered half of what had +once been a mighty ocean--as though a bomb larger and more devastating +than ever imagined of man, a bomb large enough to rock the Earth, had +landed in the midst of the area once occupied by the Gens of Dalis! + +Yet, Sarka knew, remembering the murmuring of the blue column as it came +out of the cone, all this devastation had been caused in almost absolute +silence. People could have watched and seen these deserted buildings +slowly fuse together, run together as molten metal runs together, like +the lava from a volcano of long ago under the ponderous moving to and +fro of some invisible, juggernautlike agency. + + * * * * * + +Sarka shuddered, trying to picture in his mind the massing of the +minions of Mars, who thus saw a new country given into their hands--if +they could take it. Had the Earth been taken by surprise? Had Sarka the +Second been able to prepare for the approaching catastrophe? + +"Father," he sent his thoughts racing on ahead of him, "are those lights +which are striking the Earth causing any damage?" + +"Only," came back the instant answer, "in that they destroy the courage +of the people of the Earth! The people, however, now know that Sarka is +returning, and their courage rises again! The flames are merely a hint +of what faces us; but the people will rise and follow you wherever you +lead!" + +So, as they raced across the area of devastation, the face of Sarka +became calm again. On a chance, he sent a single sentence of strange +meaning to his father. + +"The ruler of the Moon is a woman called Luar, which seems a contraction +of Lunar!" + +For many minutes Sarka the Second made no answer. When it came it +startled Sarka to the depths of him, despite the fact that he had +expected to be startled. + +"There was a woman named Lunar!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +_Sarka Commands Again_ + + +Ahead, through the storms which still hung tenaciously to the roof of +the world, flashed those dozen aircars of the Moon. Now Sarka could +plainly see the dome of his laboratory, and from the depths of him +welled up that strange glow which Earthlings recognize as the joy of +returning home, than which there is none, save the love for a woman, +greater. + +Now he could see the effect of those flares, or lights, from Mars, which +impinged on the face of the Earth, though he could see no purpose in +them, no reason for their being, since they seemed to do no damage at +all, though the effect of them was weird in the extreme. + +Outer darkness, rent with ripping, roaring storms, flurries of ice, snow +and sleet, shot through and through by balls of lambent flames in +unguessable numbers. Eery lights which struck the surface of the Earth, +bounded away and, half a mile or so from the surface again, burst into +flaming pin-wheels, like skyrockets of ancient times. Strange lights, +causing weird effects, but producing no damage at all, save to lessen to +some extent the courage of Earthlings, because they did not understand +these things. And always, down the ages, man had stood most in fear of +the Unknown. + + * * * * * + +Sarka peered off across the heavens where a ball of flame now seemed to +be rising over the horizon, and was amazed at the size of this planet. +Mars was close to Earth, so close that, had they possessed aircars like +those of the Moon-people--which remained to be seen--they could easily +have attacked the Earth. + +Across the face of the Earth flashed those fiery will-o'-the-wisps from +Mars, without rhyme or reason; yet Sarka knew positively that they +possessed some meaning, and that the Earth had been forced thus close to +Mars for a purpose. What that purpose was must yet be discovered. + +Then, under the aircars, the laboratory of Sarka. + +Down dropped the aircars to a landing near the laboratory, and to the +cubes in the forepeak of each Sarka sent the mental command: + +"Assure yourselves that the aircars will remain where they are! Muster +inside the laboratory, keeping well away from the Master Beryl!" + +Then to the people who had returned, clothed in strange radiance, from +the Moon with Sarka and with Jaska he spoke: + +"Leave the cars and enter my laboratory, where further orders will be +given you!" + +With Jaska still by his side, Sarka entered the laboratory through the +Exit Dome. Inside, clothing was swiftly brought for the rebels, for +Sarka and for Jaska. But, even when they were clothed, these people who +had come back seemed to glow with an inner radiance which transfigured +them. + +Sarka the Second, his face drawn and pale, came from the Observatory to +meet his son, and the two were clasped in each other's arms for a +moment. Sarka the Second, who had looked no older than his son, seemed +to have aged a dozen centuries in the time Sarka had been gone. + +But it was not of the threatened attack by Martians that Sarka the +Second spoke. He made no statement. He merely asked a question: + +"Was Lunar very beautiful, and just a bit unearthly in appearance?" + + * * * * * + +Sarka started. + +"Yes. Beautiful! Wondrously, fearfully beautiful: but I had the feeling +that she had no heart or soul, no conscience: that she was +somehow--well, bestial!" + +A moan of anguish escaped Sarka the Second. + +"Dalis again!" he ejaculated. "But much of the fault was mine! Before +you were born, we scientists of Earth had already several times realized +the necessity of expansion for the children of Earth if they were to +continue. Dalis' proposal to my father was discarded, because it +involved the wholesale taking of life. But after the oceans had been +obliterated, and the human family still outgrew its bounds, Dalis came +to my father and me with still another proposal. It involved a strange, +other-worldly young woman whom he called Lunar! Her family--well, +nothing was known about her, for her family could not be traced. Wiped +out, I presume, in some inter-family quarrel, leaving her alone. Dalis +found her, took an interest in her, and the very strangeness of her gave +him his idea, which he brought to my father and me. + +"His proposal was somewhat like that which you made when we sent the +Earth out of its orbit into outer space, save that Dalis' scheme +involved no such program. His was simply a proposal to somehow +communicate with the Moon by the use of an interplanetary rocket that +should carry a human passenger. + +"He put the idea up to this girl, Lunar, and she did not seem to care +one way or another. Dalis was all wrapped up in his ideas, and gave the +girl the name of Lunar, as being symbolical of his plans for her. He +coached and trained her against the consummation of his plan. We knew +something, theoretically at least, about the conditions on the Moon, and +everything possible was done for her, to make it feasible for her to +exist on the Moon. My error was in ever permitting the experiment to be +made, since if I had negatived the idea. Dalis would have gone no +further! + +"But I, too, was curious, and Lunar did not care. Well, the rocket was +constructed, and shot outward into space by a series of explosions. No +word was ever received from Lunar, though it was known that she landed +on the Moon! + + * * * * * + +"I say no word was ever received, yet what you have intimated proves +that Dalis has either been in mental communication with her, hoping to +induce her to send a force against the Earth, and assist him in +mastering the Earth, overthrowing we Sarkas--or has been biding his +time against something of the thing we have now accomplished." + +This seemed to clear up many things for Sarka, though it piled higher +upon his shoulders the weight of his responsibilities. The +other-worldliness of Lunar, called now Luar, explained her mastery of +the Gnomes, and through them the cubes, and her knowledge of the +omnipotent qualities of the white flames of the Moon's core, which might +have been, it came to Sarka in a flash, the source of all life on the +Moon in the beginning! + +"But father," went on Sarka, "I don't see any sense in this aerial +bombardment by Mars!" + +"I believe," said Sarka the Second sadly, "that before another ten hours +pass we shall know the worst there is to be known: but now, son, instead +of going into attack against the Moon, we go into battle against the +combined forces of Mars and of the Moon!" + + * * * * * + +Sarka now took command of the forces of the Earth. Swiftly he turned to +the people of the Gens of Dalis who had come back with him. + +"You will be divided into eleven equal groups, as nearly as possible. +Father, will you please arrange the division? Each group will be +attached to the staff of one of the Spokesman of the Gens, so that each +Spokesman will have the benefit of your knowledge with reference to +conditions on the Moon. Each group will re-enter its particular aircar, +retaining control of the cube in each case, of course, and will at once +repair to his proper station. Telepathy is the mode of communication +with the cubes, and you rule them by your will. Each group, when +assembled by my father, will choose a leader before quitting this +laboratory, and such leader will remain in command of his group, under +the overlordship of the Spokesman to whom he reports with his group. You +understand! + +"Your loyalty is unquestioned. You will consecrate your lives to the +welfare of the Gens to which you are going, since you no longer have a +Gens of your own!" + +Sarka turned to the cubes, which had formed in a line just inside the +Exit Dome, and issued a mental command to the cube that had piloted his +aircar from the Moon. The cube faded out instantly, appearing +immediately afterward on the table of the vari-colored lights. + +"Father," said Sarka, "while I am issuing orders to the Spokesmen, +please see if you can discover the secret of these cubes: how they are +actuated, the real extent of their intelligence! The rest of you, with +your cubes, depart immediately and report to your new Gens!" + + * * * * * + +Within ten minutes the divisions had been made, and the Radiant People +had entered the aircars and, outside the laboratory, risen free of the +Earth, and turned, each in its proper direction, for the Gens of its +assignment. The Sarkas and Jaska watched them go. + +There remained but one aircar, standing outside on half a dozen of those +grim tentacles, with two tentacles swinging free, undulating to and fro +like serpents. Harnessed electricity actuating the tentacles--cars and +tentacles subservient to the cubes. + +The aircars safely on their way, Sarka stepped to the Master Beryl, +tuned it down to normal speed, and signalled the Spokesmen of the Gens. + +"The Moon and Mars are in alliance against us, and Dalis has allied +himself and his Gens with the ruler of the Moon! I don't know yet what +form the attack will take, but know this: that the safety of the world, +of all its people, rests in your hands, and that the war into which we +are going is potentially more vast than expected when this venture +began, and more devastating than the fight with the aircars of the Moon! +Coming to you, in aircars which we managed to take from the +Moon-people, are such of the people of the Gens of Dalis as were able to +return with me. Question them, gather all the information you can about +them, and through them keep control of the cubes which pilot the +aircars, for in the cubes, I believe, lies the secret of our possible +victory in the fight to come!" + + * * * * * + +Sarka scarcely knew why he had spoken the last sentence. It was as +though something deep within him had risen up, commanded him to speak, +and deeper yet, far back in his consciousness, was a mental picture of +the devastation he had witnessed on his flight above the area that had +once housed the Gens of Dalis. + +For in that ghastly area, he believed, was embodied an idea greater than +mere wanton destruction, just as there was an idea back of the fiery +lights from Mars greater than mere display. Somehow the two were allied, +and Sarka believed that, between the blue column, and the fiery lights +from Mars, the fate of the world rested. + +He could, he believed, by manipulation of the Beryls that yet remained, +maneuver the world away from that blue column--which on the Earth was +invisible. But to have done so would have thwarted the very purpose for +which this mad voyage had been begun. The world had been started on its +mad journey into space for the purpose of attacking and colonizing the +Moon and Mars. + +The Moon had been colonized by the Gens of Dalis, already in potential +revolt against the Earth. Mars was next, and by forcing the Earth into +close proximity to Mars the people of the Moon had played into the hands +of Earth-people--if the people of Earth were capable of carrying out the +program of expansion originally proposed by Sarka! + +If they were not ... well, Sarka thought somewhat grimly, the resultant +cataclysmic war would at least solve the problem of over-population! +Inasmuch as the Earth was already committed to whatever might transpire, +Sarka believed he should take a philosophic view of the matter! + + * * * * * + +Sarka turned to an examination of the Master Beryl, and even as he +peered into the depths of it, he thought gratefully how nice it was to +be home again, in his own laboratory, upon the world of his nativity. He +even found it within his heart to feel somewhat sorry for Dalis, and to +feel ashamed that he had, even in his heart, mistreated him. + +Then he thought, with a tightening of his jaw muscles, of the casual way +in which Dalis had destroyed Sarka the First, of his forcing his people +to undergo the terrors of the lake of white flames without telling them +the simple secret; of his betrayal of the Earth in his swift alliance +with Luar; or Luar herself when, as Lunar, a strange waif of Earth, +Dalis had sent her out as the first human passenger aboard a rocket to +the Moon. All his pity vanished, though he still believed he had done +right in sparing Dalis' life. + +Suddenly there came an ominous humming in the Beryl, and simultaneously +signals from the vari-colored lights on the table. Sarka whirled to the +lights, noting their color, and mentally repeating the names of the +Spokesmen who signalled him. + +Even before he gave the signal that placed him in position to converse +with them, he noted the strange coincidence. The Spokesmen who desired +speech with him were tutelary heads of Gens whose borders touched the +devasted area where Dalis had but recently been overlord! + +An icy chill caressed his spine as he signalled the Spokesmen to speak. + +"Yes, Vardee? Prull? Klaser? Cleric?" + + * * * * * + +The report of each of them was substantially the same, though couched in +different words, words freighted heavily with strange terror. + +"The devasted area has suddenly broken into movement! Throughout that +portion of it visible from my Gens area, the fused mass of debris is +bubbling, fermenting, walking into life! An aura of unearthly menace +seems to flow outward from this heaving mass, and the whole is assuming +a most peculiar radiance--cold gleaming, like distant starshine!" + +"Wait!" replied Sarka swiftly. "Wait until the people I have sent you +have arrived! Report to me instantly if the movement of the mass is +noticeably augmented, and especially so if it seems to be breaking up, +or coagulating into any sort of form whatever!" + +Then he dimmed the lights, indicating that for the moment there was +nothing more to be said. Just then his father, face very gray and very +old, entered the room of the Master Beryl from the laboratory. + +"Son!" he said. "The crisis is almost upon us! The Martians are coming!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +_Cubes of Chaos_ + + +Sarka raced into the Observatory, wondering as he ran how the attack of +the Martians would manifest itself; but scarcely prepared for the +brilliant display which greeted his gaze. Compared to the oncoming +flames from Mars, the preceding display of lights had been as nothing. +The whole Heavens between the Earth and Mars seemed alight with an +unearthly glare, as though the very heart of the sun had burst and +hurled part of its flaming mass outward into space. + +On it came with unbelievable speed. + +But there was no telling, yet, the form of the things which were coming. + +"What are they?" whispered Jaska, standing fearlessly at Sarka's side. +"Interplanetary cars? Rockets? Balls of fire? Or beings of Mars?" + +"I think," said Sarka, after studying the display for a few minutes, +"that they are either rockets or fireballs, perhaps both together! But +the Martians cannot consolidate any position on the Earth without coming +to handgrips. Since they must know this, we can expect to see the people +of Mars themselves when, or soon after, those balls of fire strike the +Earth!" + +Sarka raced back to the room of the Master Beryl as a strident humming +came through to him. + + * * * * * + +The Spokesmen of the Gens whose borders touched those of the devasted +Dalis area, were reporting again, and their voices were high pitched +with fear that threatened to break the bounds of sanity. + +"The ferment in the devasted area," was the gist of their report, "is +assuming myriads of shapes! The fused mass has broken up into isolated +masses, and each mass of itself is assuming one of the many forms!" + +"What forms?" snapped Sarka. "Quickly!" + +"Cubes! Thousands and millions of cubes, and the cubes themselves are +forming into larger cubes, some square, some rectangular! In the midst +of these formations are others, mostly columnar, each column consisting +of cubes which have coalesced into the larger form from the same small +cubes! The columnar formations are topped by globes which emit an +ethereal radiance!" + +"Listen!" Sarka's voice was vibrant with excitement. "Spokesmen of the +Gens, make sure that every individual member of your Gens is fully +equipped with flying clothing including belts and ovoids--prepared for +an indefinite stay outside on the roof of the world! Get your people out +swiftly, keeping them in formation! Keep about you those people of Dalis +whom I sent you, and understand before you break contact with your +Beryls, that instructions received from these people come from me! In +turn, after you have quitted the hives, anything you wish to say to me +you can repeat to any one of the glowing people of Dalis!" + +The contacts were broken. Sarka stared into the Beryl, glancing swiftly +in all directions, to see whether his orders were obeyed. + +Out of the myriads of hives were flying the people of all the Gens of +Earth, their vast numbers already darkening the roof of the world. The +advance fires from Mars seemed to have no effect on them, which Sarka +had expected, since the fires seemed to consume nothing they had touched +previously. + + * * * * * + +By millions the people came forth. People dressed in the clothing of +this Gens or that, wearing each the insignia of the house of his +Spokesman. A brave show. Sarka could see the faces of many, now in +light, now in shadow, as the advance fires of Mars lighted them for a +moment in passing, then left them in shadow as the bursting balls of +fire faded and died. + +Strange, too, that the fireballs made no noise. Noiseless flame which +rebounded from the surface of the Earth broke in silence, deluging the +heavens with shooting stars of great brilliance. Through its display +flew the people of the Gens, mustering in flight above flight, each to +his own level, under command of the Spokesmen of the Gens. + +"How long, father," queried Sarka, "should it take to empty the Gens +areas?" + +"The people of Earth have been waiting for word to go into battle since +we first sent the people of Dalis against the Moon-men. They still are +ready! The dwellings of our people, _all_ of them, can be emptied within +an hour!" + +"I wonder," mused Sarka, "if that is soon enough!" + +Perhaps yes, perhaps no. It would be a race, in any case. Sarka divided +his attention between the rapidly changing formations of the Moon-cubes +in that devasted area and the onrushing charge of the fire-balls from +Mars. All were visible to him through the Master Beryl, and from the +Observatory, though the Martian fire-balls were now so close that the +vanguard of them could even be seen in the Master Beryl, adjusted to +view only activities on the surface of the Earth. + +Even as the last flights of the Gens of Earth were slipping into the icy +air from the roof of the world, the Moon-cubes began their terrifying, +appalling attack, every detail of which could be seen by Sarka from the +Master Beryl. + + * * * * * + +Those columns, composed of cubes, seemed to be the leaders of a vast +cube-army. The top of each of them was a gleaming globe whose eery light +played over the country immediately surrounding each column, their weird +light reflected in the squares, rectangles and globes that other cubes +had formed. + +Sarka sought swiftly among the columns for the one which might +conceivably be in supreme command; but even as he sought the Moon-cubes +moved to the attack. The globes on the tops of the columns dimmed their +lights, and the squares, rectangles and globes got instantly into +terrible motion. + +Southward from the position in which they had formed they began to move, +the squares and rectangles apparently sliding along the surface of the +scarred and broken soil, the globes rolling. + +Southward there was the vast wall of the Gens that bordered the devasted +area in that direction, and the cube-army was instantly at full charge +toward this, in what Sarka realized was, to be a war of demolition! + +Within a minute, Sarka was conscious of a trembling of all the +laboratory, and the eyes of Jaska were wide with fear. Swiftly the +trembling grew, until sound now was added to the vast, awesome tremor--a +vast, roaring crescendo of sound that mounted and mounted as the speed +of the cube-army increased. The vanguard of the cube-army struck the +dwelling of the Gens southward of that of Dalis, and a mighty, +rocketing roar sounded in the Master Beryl, was audible inside the +laboratory, even without the aid of the Beryl, at whose surface Sarka +stared as a man fascinated, hypnotized. + + * * * * * + +The cube-army struck the dwellings, disappeared into them as though they +had been composed of tissue paper, and continued on! Over the tops of +the cube-army toppled the roofs of the dwellings, there, in the midst of +the cubes, to be ground to powder, with a sound as of a million +avalanches grinding together in some awesome, sun-size valley. +Southward, in the wake of the chaotic charge, moved a mighty, gigantic +crevasse, whose sides were the walls of the hives left standing. And +still the cube-army moved in, grinding everything it touched to dust, +trampling buildings into nothingness, destroying utterly along a front +hundreds of miles wide, and as deep as the dwellings of men! + +"God!" cried Sarka, his voice so tense that both his father and Jaska +heard it above the roaring which shook and rocked the world. "Do you +see? The Moon-cubes are destroying the dwelling of our people, and the +Martians are to destroy the people who have fled!" + +"There must be a way," said Sarka the Second quietly, "to circumvent the +cubes! But what? Your will still rules the cubes which piloted you from +the Moon?" + +"Yes," replied Sarka tersely, "but there are only a dozen of the cubes. +What can they do against countless millions of them? Cubes which are +Moon-cubes, brought to the Earth in the heart of that blue column, here +reformed to create an army which is invincible, because it cannot be +slain! It means that the Moon-people themselves, thousands of miles out +of our reach, have but to sit in comfort and watch their cube-slaves +destroy us! When they have laid waste the Earth, the Martians have but +to finish the fight!" + + * * * * * + +"If, beloved," said Jaska, "your will commands those twelve cubes, it +can also command all the others, for they must be essentially the same. +Call on the rebels of Dalis to help you!" + +"Then what of the Spokesmen of the Gens, who will be out of contact with +me?" + +"They must stand on their own feet, must fight their own battle! Call to +you the people who have passed through the white flames, and fight with +the distant will of Luar and of Dalis for control of the cube-army!" + +Again that exaltation, which convinced him he could move mountains with +his two hands, coursed through the being of Sarka. + +Quietly be answered Jaska. + +"I believe you are right," he said softly. "Those of us who have passed +through the flames which bore these Moon-cubes will control the cubes, +even bend them to our will. The Spokesmen must vanquish the Martians or +perish!" + +Then he sent his mental commands to the Spokesmen: + +"Meet the Martians when they arrive and destroy or drive them back! You +live only if you win! We speak no more until victory is ours! People of +the Gens of Dalis, go to the areas being devasted by the cubes, taking +your cubes and aircars with you, and I will join you there! _And Jaska +with me!_" + +Sarka had not himself mentally spoken the last four words. Jaska had +thought-spoken them, before he could prevent. He turned upon her, lips +shaping a command that she remain behind. But she forestalled him. + +"I, too, have been through the white flames! You may have need of all of +us!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +_The Struggle for Mastery_ + + +The people of all the Gens of Earth were now between two fires. The +cube-army, ruled by the mistress of the Moon, was laying waste the +dwellings of the Gens, destroying them with a speed and surety of which +no earthquake, whatever its proportions, would have been capable. The +Gens were forced out upon the roof of the world--where, scarcely had +they maneuvered into their prearranged formations, than the Martians +struck. + +Those huge balls of fire, larger even than the aircars of the Moon, +landed in vast and awe-inspiring numbers on the roof of the +world--landed easily, with no apparent effort or shock. The light of +them made all the world a place of vast radiance, save only that portion +which was being destroyed by the cube-army, and this area had a cold, +chill radiance of its own. + +By groups and organisations the fire-balls of Mars landed, and rested +quiescent on the surface of the globe. + +Sarka, pausing only long enough in his laboratory to study this strange +attack and to discover how it would get under way, was at the same time +preparing to go forth to take his own strange part in the defensive +action of Earthlings. A vast confidence was in him.... + +"We will lose millions of people, father," he said softly. "But it will +end in our victory, in the most glorious war ever fought on this Earth!" + +"That is true, my son!" replied the older man sadly. + + * * * * * + +For several minutes the vast fire-balls, which seemed to be monster +glowing octagons, rested where they had landed, and even then the Gens +of the people were closing on them, bringing their ray directors and +atom-disintegrators into action. + +Then, when the Earthlings would have destroyed the first of the vast +fire-balls--and Sarka was noting that the flames which bathed the balls +seemed to have no effect whatever on Earthlings, save to outline them in +mantles of fire--the fire-balls wakened to new life. + +They opened like the halves of peaches falling apart, and out upon the +roof of the world poured the first Martians Earth had ever seen! + +They were more than twice the size, on the average, of Earth people, and +at first glance seemed to resemble them very much, save that their eyes, +of which each Martian was possessed of two, were set on the ends of long +tentacles which could stretch forth to a length of two feet or more from +the eye-sockets and thus be turned in any direction. Each eye was +independent of its neighbor, as one could look forward while the other +looked backward, or one could look right while the other looked left. + +Each Martian possessed two arms on each side of a huge, powerful torso, +and legs that were like the bolls of trees, compared to the slender +limbs of Earthlings. All the Martians seemed to be dressed in the skins +of strange, vari-colored beasts. Each carried in his upper right hand a +slender canelike thing some three feet in length, from whose tip there +flashed those spurts of flame which had puzzled the Earth people before +the actual launching of the attack. + + * * * * * + +Beyond these weapons, the Martians seemed to possess no weapons of +offense at all, nor of defense. + +"With our ray directors and atom-disintegrators," said Sarka, moving +into the Exit Dome with Jaska, "we can blast them from the face of the +Earth!" + +But in a moment he realized that he had spoken too hastily. + +The nearest fire-ball was, of course, within the area of the Gens of +Cleric, and Sarka could here see with his naked eyes all that +transpired. The Martian passengers, who moved swiftly away from their +fire-ball vehicles, then a flight of the Gens of Cleric descended upon +the fireball and its fleeing passengers, with tiny ray directors and +atom-disintegrators held to the fore, ready for action. + +The Martians, at some distance from their glowing vehicle, paused and +formed a ragged line, facing the ball, staring at the descending people +of the Gens of Cleric, their tentaclelike eyes waving to and fro, oddly +like the tentacles of those aircars of the Moon. + +The flight was hovering above the first fireball. In a second now, at +the command of an underling, the ray directors would destroy fire-ball +and Martians as thoroughly as though they had never existed at all. + + * * * * * + +But then a strange thing happened. At that exact moment, timing their +actions to fractions of seconds, the Martians raised and pointed their +canelike weapons of the spurting flames. They pointed them, however, not +at the Earthlings, but at the fire-ball which had brought them to Earth! + +Instantly the fire-ball exploded as with the roaring of a hundred mighty +volcanoes--and the descending flight of the Gens of Cleric was blasted +into countless fragments! Bits of them flew in all directions. Many +dropped, the mangled, infinitesmal remains of them, down to the roof of +Earth, while many were hurled skyward through formations above +them--while those formations, to a height of a full two miles, were +broken asunder. Many flights above that first flight were smashed and +broken, their individual members hurled in all directions by that one +single blast of a single fire-ball. + +Individuals who escaped destruction were hurled end over end, upward +through other flights higher above, and the whole aggregation of flights +which had been concentrated on that first fire-ball was instantly +demoralized, while full fifty per cent of its individuals were instantly +torn to bits! + +Sarka groaned to the depths of him. + +"The leader of the Martians, or the master who sent them here, sent them +here to win. For if they do not win, they cannot return to Mars, as they +will have destroyed their vehicles! Their confidence is superhuman!" + +"Have faith in the courage of Earthlings, son!" said Sarka. + +It was much to ask, for if one single one of these fire-balls could +wreak such havoc with the people of Earth, what would be the destruction +by the countless other unexploded fireballs of the Martians? + + * * * * * + +Still, the Spokesmen themselves must discover a way to hold their own, +to win against the Martians. For Sarka there was greater work to do. He +must oppose the wills of Luar and of Dalis in a mighty mental conflict, +which would decide whether the homes of men would be saved, or utterly +destroyed by the Moon-cubes. + +But as he left through the Exit Dome, with Jaska by his side, he +shuddered, and was just a little sick inside as he saw the fearful +result of that first explosion of a Martian fire-ball! Bits of human +wreckage were scattered over the Earth for a great distance in all +directions from where the fire-ball had exploded. And at that spot a +gigantic crater had been torn in the roof of the world, going down to +none knew what depths. + +Even the Martians, here only to consolidate positions which had passed +the demolition of the Moon-cubes, were capable of demolitions almost as +ghastly and complete as those of the cubes! + +The sound was incapable of being described, for outside the laboratory +the sound of the advance of the Moon-cubes eating into the dwellings of +men, tumbling them down, grinding them to powder, was cataclysmic in its +mighty volume. A million express trains crashing head-on into walls of +galvanized iron at top speed, simultaneously. + +Ear-drum crashing blows as fireballs exploded. The screams and shrieks +of maimed and dying Earthlings--of Earthlings unwounded but possessed of +abysmal fear.... + + * * * * * + +Then, resolutely, Sarka turned his back on the conflict between the +Martians and the people of Earth, and hurtled across the devastated +roof of the world toward that area which was feeling the destructive +force of the vandal cube-army. As he flew, Jaska keeping pace with him +in silence, his mind was busy. + +Passage through the white flames of the Moon had given him the key. +Those white flames--source of all life on the Moon--rendered almost +godlike those whom it bathed ... gave them unbelievable access of mental +brilliance ... were the source of that blue column which had forced the +Earth outward toward Mars ... were the source, in some way, of the cubes +themselves, as he and Jaska, after passing through them, owed their now +near-divinity to the same white flames! Those flames had made Luar +mistress of the Moon--therefore of the Gnomes and of the cubes! +Therefore, Sarka, having been bathed in the flames, should make himself +master of the cubes, if he could out-will the combined determinations of +Luar and of Dalis! + +His confidence was supreme as he fled through outer darkness toward the +eery light which came from the area of demolitions. Looking ahead, he +could see tiny glows in the sky, which he knew to be the rebels of +Dalis' Gens, flying to keep their rendezvous with him. + +Higher mounted his courage and his confidence as he approached the +roaring crash, perpetual and always mounting, which showed him where the +cube-army was busiest. The sound vibrated the very air, causing the +bodies of Sarka to tingle with it, causing them to flutter and shake in +their flight with its awesome power. But they did not hold back, flew +onward through the gloom, leaving behind them the brightly lighted areas +where Gens of Earth battled with the fireballs of the Martians, moving +into the area of the eery glowing of the cubes. + + * * * * * + +Just as he approached the spot where mighty dwellings were tumbling +before the march of the cube-army, he sent a single command toward the +cube which had piloted him from the Moon. + +"Come to me on the edge of the crevasse nearest the place of most +destruction!" + +Would the cube now be subservient to his will? He wondered. Everything +depended upon that. If not, then he might as well try to stay the forces +of a mighty avalanche with his breath, as halt the cube-army with his +will. + +But strangely enough, the closer he came to the vast area of tumbling +dwellings the calmer he became, the more sure that he would win against +the cubes. + +For when he landed at the lip of the crevasse, across which he could +look for a hundred miles, a single cube gleamed brightly almost at his +feet, awaiting his orders! + +One by one, by twos, threes, fours, dozens, came the glowing people who +had been bathed in the white flames of the Moon's life-source, and as +each dropped down beside him, Sarka gave a command. + +"Drop down in the midst of the cubes! Make your own cube the rallying +point for this vast army of cubes, force the cubes to desist in their +mighty destruction, be subservient to your will--and do you, each of +you, be subservient to _my_ will!" + + * * * * * + +Away dropped the rebels, glowing points of white flame, dropping down +the sides of the crevasse, a mighty, awesome canyon, into the very heart +of the activity of the cubes, and from the brain of Sarka, aided by the +will of Jaska, went forth a simple command: + +"Cease your march of destruction, O Moon-cubes, and harken to the will +of Sarka, your master! Draw back from your labors, and muster, not as +squares, rectangles and columns, but as individual cubes, in the area +already devastated by you! Rally about the glowing people who have +passed through the flames which were your Moon-mother, and wait for +orders! Take no further heed of commands from Dalis and Luar!" + +Instantly it seemed to Sarka that he had drawn into some invisible +vortex which tore at his brain, at his body, at his soul. Inside him a +cold voice seemed to say: + +"Fool, Sarka! My will is greater than yours!" + +But though the force of the will of Luar, whose thought he recognized, +tore at him, almost shriveled the soul and brain of him with its might, +he continued to send his thought-command out to the Moon-cubes, forcing +it through the wall of Luar's will, hurling it like invisible +projectiles at the cube-army below. + +Exultation possessed him, buoyed him up, gave him greater courage and +confidence as the moments passed for even as all his being concentrated +on the will-command to the cubes, his senses told him that the mighty +sound of destruction was dying away, fading out. + + * * * * * + +Slower now the dwellings fell, slower moved the Moon-cubes; and as they +slowed in their mighty march through the dwellings of men, so increased +the confidence, the power of will, of Sarka and his people--the rebels +of the Gens of Dalis. + +Then, after an hour, whose mighty mental conflict had bathed Sarka in +the perspiration of superhuman effort, the sound of destruction ceased +all together, and the dwellings ceased to fall. + +A silent shout, like an inborn paean of rejoicing, surged through Sarka +as he noted the retreat from the dwellings of men, of the Moon-cubes! +Back and back retreated the squares and the rectangles, the columns and +the globes, breaking apart as they retreated. + +Within fifteen minutes after the destruction had ceased, millions of +gleaming cubes winked upward from the bottom of the +crevasse--motionless, quiescent! + +Sarka sent forth another thought. + +"I am your master, O cubes of the Moon!" + +No sound, no movement, answered him. + +"Luar and Dalis are no longer able to command you!" + +Still no sound or movement of the cubes. + + * * * * * + +Then, taking a deep breath, as of a swimmer preparing to dive into icy +water, Sarka gave a new command. + +"Dissolve! Reform on the roof of the world in globes! Roll over the face +of the Earth, destroy the fire-balls of Mars--and take prisoners, inside +the globes, the attackers from Mars!" + +Instantly the gleaming cubes vanished, and darkness as of a mighty pit +possessed the crevasse of destruction. Then, at the lip of the great +crevasse, the cubes swept into form--myriads of globes which gleamed +with the cold blue brilliance of the Moon! + +They had no sooner formed as globes than they were in action again, +rolling over the roof of the world as with a rising crescendo of thunder +tumbling down the night-black sky. So mighty was their rush that the +roof of the world trembled and shook. + +Above their charge raced Sarka and Jaska, and with them the rebels of +the Gens of Dalis. + +All were present when the cubes crashed into the fire-balls from Mars, +swept the Martians within themselves as prisoners, held them +securely--and continued on, destroying the fire-balls in myriads. Here +and there fire-balls exploded on contact, destroying the globes, which +immediately reformed again, as though the explosions had not been felt +at all. + + * * * * * + +Sarka had won the allegiance of the Moon-cubes, which had defeated and +taken prisoners the Martians, destroying the vehicles in which they +might have returned to Mars. And as realization came, darkness settled +over the roof of the world; the last flare of Mars faded and died. + +This done, the cubes formed in mighty rows, facing the laboratory of +Sarka. His heart beating madly with exultation, Sarka studied them. Then +he stepped into the Observatory, gazed away across the space which +separated the Earth from the Moon, sent a mental message winging +outward. + +"Luar! Dalis!" + +Faintly, fearfully, came the answer. + +"We hear, O Sarka!" + +"Shift the blue column away from the Earth! Do not interfere as we +return to our orbit about the sun! Obey, or I combine the total +knowledge of Mars, the Earth, and the Moon in an attack against you and +your Martian ally! Inform your ally that their people will not return, +that the Earth has need of them--but that two Gens of Earth will be +received by Martians in perfect amity, and these Gens allowed biding +places on Mars! Unless your ally obeys, the Martians in my hands will be +destroyed!" + +In an hour the answer came, the snarling thought-answer of Dalis. + +"We hear! We obey! But Dalis is never beaten while he lives! His day +will come!" + + * * * * * + +Sarka found himself feeling even a little sorry for sorely beaten Dalis; +but his face was grim as he sent another command to the people of Dalis +who had passed through the life-source of the Moon. + +"Take command of the cubes, and force them to repair the damage which +has been done to the dwellings of men--to repair them completely, over +all the face of the Earth!" + +As the glowing people hurried to obey, Sarka softly asked his father: + +"But what shall we do with the Martians?" + +Sarka the Second smiled. + +"Release them and send them to the lowest level where, guarded by the +cubes, they will be set to constructing fireballs like those in which +they arrived for the use of Earth if Dalis, or the Martians, ever attack +again! And, son...." + +"Yes, O my father?" said Sarka softly. + +"I have another suggestion for the employment of the cubes! Let them +build aircars to be used by the Gens of Prull and of Klaser, as +transportation to Mars whenever you are ready for them to go!" + +Sarka smiled boyishly, happily. + +"Yes, O my father; and is there anything else?" + +"Yes! Take Jaska as your mate! Do you not see that she is waiting for +you to speak?" + +Sarka turned to Jaska, whose face was glorious in her surrender, and +whose lips were parted in a loving smile--which faded only when Sarka's +lips caressed it away. + + (_The end._) + + + + + ASTOUNDING STORIES + + _Appears on Newsstands_ + + THE FIRST THURSDAY IN EACH MONTH + + + + +[Illustration: The Readers' Corner + +_A Meeting Place for Readers of_ Astounding Stories] + + + _From Australia_ + + + Dear Editor: + + I am taking the privilege of writing to you in an endeavor to show + my appreciation of your magazine Astounding Stories. + + Although I am an inveterate reader I must say that I have never + read any book or magazine to come up to the above, and confess that + though I am ignorant of the intricacies of science (and lacked + interest in same prior to my reading your first issue) same is + described so plainly that I have no trouble in fully understanding + exactly what the author conveys. I must thank you for this other + interest in the monotony of life. + + Have pleasure of informing you that through my enthusiasm have + created several subscribers, and on occasions when adopting the age + old custom of placing my foot upon the rail and bending the elbow, + have entered into many a conversation and discussion re the + different stories included in your magazine. + + I assure you of my whole-hearted support in the furthering of the + popularity of your enjoyable and unique work in my country, and + wish you every success in your venture.--M. B. Johnston, 237 + Flinders Lane, Melbourne, Australia. + + + _Mr. Neal's Favorites_ + + + Dear Editor: + + The other day I saw Astounding Stories on one of the newsstands. I + purchased it, and after reading "Brigands of the Moon", I eagerly + finished the rest of the magazine. I did not like "Out of the + Dreadful Depths." In my opinion it should not be in a Science + Fiction magazine. The only thing the matter with your magazine is + that it is too small. I would like to read some stories in "our" + magazine by Ed Earl Repp, David H. Keller, M. D., Miles J. Brewer, + M. D., and Stanton Coblentz--Francis Neal, R. R. 4, Box 105, + Kokomo, Ind. + + + _No Ghost Stories_ + + + Dear Editor: + + I received your April issue and I think it is the best yet. I have + but one complaint to make, and that is your magazine seems to print + some good science stories, but also has some stories which do not + belong in a Science Fiction magazine. They might come under the + name of weird tales. Is your magazine devoted to pure 100 per cent. + Science Fiction? If so, I think you ought to leave out the ghost + stories.--Louis Wentzler, 1933 Woodbine St., Brooklyn, N. Y. + + + _From the Other Sex_ + + + Dear Editor: + + You'll be surprised to hear from a girl, as I notice only boys + wrote to praise your new magazine. I tried reading some of the + Science Fiction magazines my brother buys every month but I'd start + reading a story only to leave it unfinished. But your magazine is + different. When I picked it up to read it I thought I'd soon throw + it down and read something else, but the moment I started to read + one of the stories of your new magazine I read it to the finish. I + never read such vivid and exciting stories. Even my brother who + loves all kinds of Science Fiction magazines couldn't stop praising + your new magazine. He said Astounding Stories beats them all. + + Some of our readers criticized your new magazine, and I haven't + anything but disagreement for them. Yet, who am I, to judge persons + who have read and know all about Science Fiction? + + Will recommend your new magazine to all my friends.--Sue O'Bara, + 13440 Barley Ave., Chicago, Illinois. + + + _January Issue Was First_ + + + Dear Editor: + + I have just finished reading the April issue of "our" magazine. Can + mere words describe my feelings? I am classing the stories as + follows: A--excellent; B--very good; C--good; D--passable; E--poor. + + A--"Monsters of Moyen," "Vampires of Venus," "The Ray of Madness," + "The Soul-Snatcher." + + B--"The Man Who Was Dead." + + C--None. D--None. E--None. + + "Brigands of the Moon" is getting more and more interesting. Can + you please tell me which month's issue was the first one, as I + didn't procure the first two copies and should like to do so?--Eli + Meltzer, 1466 Coney Island Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y. + + + "_Eclipses All_" + + + Dear Editor: + + Just as soon as your new magazine came out I espied it. It eclipsed + all the other magazines on the stand. As a cub magazine I couldn't + ask for more. + + I am going to comment on your stories now because I know you want + me too, for I know you would like to know what sort of stories your + readers like. + + I have a lot to say about Ray Cummings. He is the best writer I + have ever seen. His stories couldn't be beat. "Phantoms of Reality" + was a corking good story, but I believe his new serial, "Brigands + of the Moon," is going to be better. Captain S. P. Meek is a very + good writer also. I take immense joy in his Dr. Bird stories. And + we must not forget that great writer, Murray Leinster. His stories + are really good. + + I congratulate you on your new magazine, Mr. Editor.--Albert + Philbrick, 117 N. Spring St., Springfield, Ohio. + + + "_A Unique Magazine_" + + + Dear Editor: + + I've been trying to write your magazine for a long time, so here + goes. + + I've bought every copy from the first issue and sure think it is a + good magazine. In fact I should say a unique magazine; there are + but few magazines in its class among Science Fiction magazines. The + stories come up to the standards of good Science Fiction, and some + go far above it. A few stories I did not like were: "The Man Who + Was Dead," "The Soul Snatcher," "The Corpse on the Grating" and + "The Stolen Mind." The science in all these stories was very poor. + But your magazine became better in my eyes when you published + "Phantoms of Reality," "Tanks," "Old Crompton's Secret," "Brigands + of the Moon," "Monsters of Moyen," and all of Captain S. P. Meek's + stories. These were extraordinarily good stories. + + Wesso's drawings are very good, and I hope you keep him. I have + seen his drawings in another magazine for quite a time. I don't + like the illustrations of your other artist. Could you, by chance, + secure an artist by the name of Leo Morey or Hugh Mackay? They both + illustrate for other Science Fiction magazines and are about as + good as Wesso. Please keep the latter. And why don't you have him + to do all of your illustrating? + + Sorry to seem such a grouch, but I don't like your grade of paper + either. And why not enlarge the magazine to about 11" x 9" by 1/2", + and charge 25 cents for your thoroughly good magazine, apart from + the defects I have mentioned. + + About your authors. They are, for the most part, good. But they are + mostly amateurs at writing Science Fiction stories. I am delighted + to see such expert writers of Science Fiction as Harl Vincent, Ray + Cummings, Victor Rousseau and Captain S. P. Meek writing for your + magazine, but couldn't you include in your staff of authors A. + Hyatt Verrill, Dr. Miles J. Breuer, Dr. David H. Keller, R. F. + Starzl, and a few more such notable authors? I hope to see these + authors in your magazine soon.--Linus Hogenmiller, 502 N. + Washington St., Farmington, Mo. + + + _The Star System!_ + + + Dear Editor: + + One star means fairly good, two stars, good; three stars, + excellent; four, extraordinary; no stars--just another story. + + I give "Brigands of the Moon," by Ray Cummings, three stars; "The + Atom-Smasher," by Victor Rousseau, three stars; "Murder Madness," + by Murray Leinster, two stars; "Into the Ocean Depths," by S. P. + Wright, two stars, and "The Jovian Jest," by L. Lorraine, no stars. + It was short and sweet. + + Wesso sure can draw. I would like to see a full page illustration + for each story by him. + + My favorite type of stories are interplanetary, and, second + favorite, stories of future wars. Will you have many of them in the + future? I like long stories like the novelette in the May issue of + Astounding Stories--Jack Darrow, 4225 N. Spaulding Ave., Chicago, + Illinois. + + + _We Expect Not To_ + + + Dear Editor: + + While going over your "The Readers' Corner" of the April issue, I + noticed in your answer to one of the letters that you will avoid + reprints. Now many of your readers have not read the older classics + of Science Fiction. Would it not be a good idea to publish a + reprint at least once a year? One of the suggestions given was + Merritt's "Through the Dragon Glass." Another very interesting + story, and one that I am sure almost all of your followers have not + read, is "The Blind Spot," by Homer Flint. + + I like the idea of having three members to a volume, as it will be + much easier to bind. Now, starting with the April issue, I think + that the best story in there is "Monsters of Moyen." "The Ray of + Madness" was up to the usual standard of Capt. S. P. Meek's + stories. "The Man Who Was Dead" was fairly good; average, I would + say. I did not like "Vampires of Venus." + + I say that the May issue was the best of the Astounding Stories. I + was satisfied with every story in it. "Into the Ocean Depths" was + the best story, "The Atom Smasher" being a close second. I like the + way the story "Into the Ocean Depths" ended; a slight trace of + sadness and not at all like the "and they lived happily ever after" + ending. A real story. + + I was disappointed in not finding any story concerning Dr. Bird in + the April issue. Will any more be printed soon? + + Before I close I would like a definite answer to this question: + Will you ever, or in the near future, reprint any of the genre of + Science Fiction, stories by the late master Garret P. Serviss, or + from the pen of A. Merritt and H. G. Wells?--Nathan Greenfeld, 313 + E. 70th St., New York City. + + + _Again Reprints_ + + + Dear Editor: + + Although I am a reader of six Science Fiction magazines, I was more + than glad to see the latest one out, Astounding Stories. Because + the stories are all interesting. I consider Astounding Stories + superior to most of the Science Fiction periodicals on the + newsstands to-day. + + My favorite stories are those of interplanetary voyages and other + worlds. My favorite authors are: Ray Cummings, A. Merritt, Victor + Rousseau, Murray Leinster, Arthur J. Burks and Harl Vincent. I hope + that you will soon have stories by Edmond Hamilton and David H. + Keller. + + Now here is something I hope you will give some thought and + consideration. I noticed that many of the readers wrote in, + requesting reprints. I am one of those who would like to see you + publish some reprints, especially stories by Edgar Rice Burroughs, + A. Merritt and Ray Cummings. These authors have written many + masterpieces of Science Fiction. It is very difficult, if not + impossible, for a person to get these stories. They could be made + available easily if Astounding Stories would reprint them. + + Most of the readers who object to reprints do so because they would + hate to see a story by H. G. Wells or Jules Verne. I, myself, do + not like these authors as they are too dull. But if you have only + reprints by the three authors I mentioned and a few other popular + writers, I am sure all the readers would welcome them. At least you + could have a vote and see how they stand on reprints--Michael + Fogaris, 157 Fourth St., Passaic, N. J. + + + _Likes_ "_The Readers' Corner_" + + + Dear Editor: + + Your "The Readers' Corner" interests me very much. It surely does + show how your magazine pleases its readers. You cannot get too much + science in your stories to suit me. Chemistry and physics more than + anything else. + + I surely enjoyed reading "Mad Music" and "The Thief of Time." I + don't like long stories. They are too interesting to have to wait a + month for the next part. + + I hope that your magazine continues to have as "astounding" stories + as it has in the past.--Vern L. Enrich, R. F. D. 1, Casey, + Illinois. + + + _From Master Weiner_ + + + Dear Editor: + + One day coming home from school I saw your magazine. That night I + bought it and have since been an ardent reader. + + But why not give us a change? I prefer stories of the Sargasso Sea, + the Maelstrom, and about invasions of the Earth.--Milton Weiner, + age 12, 2430 Baker St., Baltimore Maryland. + + + _High Praise_ + + + Dear Editor: + + Enclosed you will find twenty cents in stamps for the first copy of + Astounding Stories. + + I have just finished the May issue of Astounding Stories and the + rating of the stories is: 1--"Brigands of the Moon"--Excellent! + 2--"The Atom Smasher"--Marvelous! 3--"Murder Madness"--Perfect. + 4--"Into the Ocean's Depths"--Good. 5--"The Jovian Jest"--Pretty + Good. + + The cover design by H. Wesso is good. Don't lose him. + + I would like more stories by Victor Rousseau and Ray Cummings. + Where are some stories by H. G. Wells, Stanton Coblens, Gawain + Edwards, Francis Flagg, Henrik Jarve and Dr. Keller? My favorite + stories are interplanetary stories. + + Here are some things that may improve your magazine (though I must + say that your magazine is about perfect as it is): More pictures in + long stories; about two novelettes in each issue; about two short + stories in each issue; more interplanetary novels and novelettes; + about one serial in one issue; smoother paper.--Isidore Horowitz, + 1161 Stratford Avenue, New York City. + + + "_Fairly Good Satire_" + + + Dear Editor: + + I have read your two issues of Astounding Stories and I feel they + will fill a very much needed place in literature. + + I am especially interested in the stories like the "Vampires of + Venus" and the "Brigands of the Moon." The "Vampires of Venus" can + be classed as a fairly good satire on Earth beings; I consider that + story one with a moral. It reminds one of Voltaire's Micromegas, + and it's taking us to another planet to show us our faults at home + will stimulate interest in social improvement. + + I have kept tab on Edgar Rice Burroughs' writings because he + teaches evolution in a way that makes it easy for the ordinary + reader to grasp. + + You have a great field, if you can keep up the interplanetary + stories and mix some evolutionary stories with them. + + The true stories are playing a valuable part in stimulating people + to take a deeper view of life, and you have a field in Astounding + Stories almost without a competitor.--J. L. Stark, 530 Sutcliffe + Ave., Louisville, Kentucky. + + + _He is H. W. Wessolowski_ + + + Dear Editor: + + Since I have read every copy of Astounding Stories since it was + inaugurated I feel well qualified to contribute a few bouquets and + also some criticism. The cover illustrations are wonderful but I + cannot find the artist's name on it. So good an artist should put + his "moniker" on his productions. I am glad to see that the words + "Super-Science" are on the top of the cover in bright red letters; + some other Science Fiction magazines seem desirous of disguising + the contents of their magazines for some obscure and mysterious + reason. + + And now a brickbat. It is my humble opinion that the science should + be examined more carefully before the stories are printed in this + excellent magazine. The stories should be not only astounding, but + should contain some science information that will be remembered + after the fiction is forgotten. "The Man Who Was Dead" is an + excellent ghost story or weird tale, but is out of place in "our" + magazine. (I take the liberty to call it "our" magazine since a + department is given over to the readers and we express our choice + of the kind of stories that are printed.) However, taken all + together, our magazine is steadily improving; each issue up to now + has been distinctly better than the one before. + + I have graded the stories in the April and May copies as follows: + Excellent--"Vampires of Venus," "The Ray of Madness," "Brigands + of the Moon," "Murder Madness," "Into the Ocean's Depths" and "The + Jovian Jest." Good--"Monsters of Moyen," "The Atom Smasher" and + "The Soul Searcher." Poor--"The Man Who Was Dead." + + My favorite authors are Dr. David H. Keller, Harl Vincent, Lillith + Lorraine, Anthony Pelcher, Capt. S. P. Meek, Dr. Miles J. Breuer + and Ray Cummings. I can hardly wait a month for my next + copy.--Wayne D. Bray, Campbell, Missouri. + + + _Story Says Cro-Magnons Fled to Europe_ + + + Dear Editor: + + Ever since I was first introduced to Astounding Stories by a cousin + I have been a steady reader. I have not missed a single issue so + far. + + I hope you will have stories by Hyatt Verril, Edgar Rice Burroughs, + Edmond Hamilton, Leslie Stone, Stanton A. Coblentz and Francis + Flagg. + + The stories I like best in each issue (not counting serials) are: + "Phantoms of Reality," "Spawn of the Stars," "Vandals of the + Stars," "Vampires of Venus" and "The Atom Smasher." In "The Atom + Smasher" it says that all Europeans descended from the Atlanteans. + Now when the hero killed them all with the disintegrating ray, + would he not have affected their birth? + + Wesso is some artist. I saw a mistake on the cover of the March + issue. The color of space is a deep black, not blue, because the + blue color of the heavens when viewed from the earth is due to the + reflection of light by the atmosphere.--George Brande, 141 South + Church St., Schenectady, N. Y. + + + "_The Readers' Corner_" + +All Readers are extended a sincere and cordial invitation to "come over +in 'The Readers' Corner'" and join in our monthly discussion of stories, +authors, scientific principles and possibilities--everything that's of +common interest in connection with our Astounding Stories. + +Although from time to time the Editor may make a comment or so, this is +a department primarily for _Readers_, and we want you to make full use +of it. Likes, dislikes, criticisms, explanations, roses, brickbats, +suggestions--everything's welcome here; so "come over in 'The Readers' +Corner'" and discuss it with all of us! + + --_The Editor._ + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Astounding Stories of Super-Science +September 1930, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ASTOUNDING STORIES, SEPT 1930 *** + +***** This file should be named 29255.txt or 29255.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/2/5/29255/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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