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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/27013-h.zip b/27013-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0aebf73 --- /dev/null +++ b/27013-h.zip diff --git a/27013-h/27013-h.htm b/27013-h/27013-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..623a1e9 --- /dev/null +++ b/27013-h/27013-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2602 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Hellhounds of the Cosmos, by Clifford D. Simak + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1,h2 {text-align: center; font-weight: normal;} + h2 {margin-bottom: 2em;} + hr {width: 45%; margin: 1em auto; visibility: hidden;} + .tb {visibility: visible;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .blockquot {margin: 1em 10%;} + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; padding: 0; text-align: center; width: 347px;} + .trn {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; padding: 1em; text-align: justify;} + img {border: none;} + p.cap:first-letter {float: left; margin-right: .05em; padding-top: .05em; font-size: 300%; line-height: .8em;} + .dcap {text-transform: uppercase;} + .bk1 {width: 15em; margin: 2em auto; padding: .75em; text-align: center; border: solid 2px;} +// --> +/* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Hellhounds of the Cosmos, by Clifford Donald Simak + +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: Hellhounds of the Cosmos + +Author: Clifford Donald Simak + +Release Date: October 24, 2008 [EBook #27013] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HELLHOUNDS OF THE COSMOS *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figleft"> +<img src="images/001.png" width="347" height="400" alt="" title="" /> +<b><small><i>He glimmered momentarily, then vanished.</i></small></b> + +<div class="bk1"><small>Weird are the conditions of the +interdimensional struggle faced +by Dr. White's ninety-nine men.</small></div></div> + +<h1><big>Hellhounds of the Cosmos</big></h1> + +<h2>By Clifford D. Simak</h2> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The</span> paper had gone to press, +graphically describing the +latest of the many horrible +events which had been enacted +upon the Earth in the last six +months. The headlines +screamed +that Six Corners, +a little hamlet in +Pennsylvania, had +been wiped out by the Horror. Another +front-page story told of a +Terror in the Amazon Valley which +had sent the natives down the river +in babbling fear. Other stories told +of deaths here +and there, all attributable +to the +"Black Horror," +as it was called.</p> + +<p>The telephone rang.</p> + +<p>"Hello," said the editor.</p> + +<p>"London calling," came the voice +of the operator.</p> + +<p>"All right," replied the editor.</p> + +<p>He recognized the voice of Terry +Masters, special correspondent. His +voice came clearly over the transatlantic +telephone.</p> + +<p>"The Horror is attacking London +in force," he said. "There are +thousands of them and they have +completely surrounded the city. All +roads are blocked. The government +declared the city under martial rule +a quarter of an hour ago and efforts +are being made to prepare for resistance +against the enemy."</p> + +<p>"Just a second," the editor +shouted into the transmitter.</p> + +<p>He touched a button on his desk +and in a moment an answering buzz +told him he was in communication +with the press-room.</p> + +<p>"Stop the presses!" he yelled into +the speaking tube. "Get ready for +a new front make-up!"</p> + +<p>"O.K.," came faintly through the +tube, and the editor turned back to +the phone.</p> + +<p>"Now let's have it," he said, and +the voice at the London end of the +wire droned on, telling the story +that in another half hour was read +by a world which shuddered in cold +fear even as it scanned the glaring +headlines.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">"Woods,"</span> said the editor of +the <i>Press</i> to a reporter, +"run over and talk to Dr. Silas +White. He phoned me to send someone. +Something about this Horror +business."</p> + +<p>Henry Woods rose from his chair +without a word and walked from +the office. As he passed the wire +machine it was tapping out, with +a maddeningly methodical slowness, +the story of the fall of London. +Only half an hour before it had +rapped forth the flashes concerning +the attack on Paris and Berlin.</p> + +<p>He passed out of the building +into a street that was swarming +with terrified humanity. Six months +of terror, of numerous mysterious +deaths, of villages blotted out, had +set the world on edge. Now with +London in possession of the Horror +and Paris and Berlin fighting hopelessly +for their lives, the entire +population of the world was half +insane with fright.</p> + +<p>Exhorters on street corners enlarged +upon the end of the world, +asking that the people prepare for +eternity, attributing the Horror to +the act of a Supreme Being enraged +with the wickedness of the +Earth.</p> + +<p>Expecting every moment an attack +by the Horror, people left +their work and gathered in the +streets. Traffic, in places, had been +blocked for hours and law and order +were practically paralyzed. Commerce +and transportation were disrupted +as fright-ridden people fled +from the larger cities, seeking +doubtful hiding places in rural districts +from the death that stalked +the land.</p> + +<p>A loudspeaker in front of a music +store blared forth the latest news +flashes.</p> + +<p>"It has been learned," came the +measured tones of the announcer, +"that all communication with Berlin +ceased about ten minutes ago. +At Paris all efforts to hold the +Horror at bay have been futile. Explosives +blow it apart, but have the +same effect upon it as explosion +has on gas. It flies apart and then +reforms again, not always in the +same shape as it was before. A new +gas, one of the most deadly ever +conceived by man, has failed to +have any effect on the things. Electric +guns and heat guns have absolutely +no effect upon them.</p> + +<p>"A news flash which has just +come in from Rome says that a +large number of the Horrors has +been sighted north of that city by +airmen. It seems they are attacking +the capitals of the world first. +Word comes from Washington that +every known form of defense is +being amassed at that city. New +York is also preparing...."</p> + +<p>Henry Woods fought his way +through the crowd which milled in +front of the loudspeaker. The hum +of excitement was giving away to +a silence, the silence of a stunned +people, the fearful silence of a +populace facing a presence it is +unable to understand, an embattled +world standing with useless weapons +before an incomprehensible +enemy.</p> + +<p>In despair the reporter looked +about for a taxi, but realized, with +a groan of resignation, that no taxi +could possibly operate in that +crowded street. A street car, blocked +by the stream of humanity which +jostled and elbowed about it, stood +still, a defeated thing.</p> + +<p>Seemingly the only man with a +definite purpose in that whirlpool +of terror-stricken men and women, +the newspaperman settled down to +the serious business of battling his +way through the swarming street.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">"Before</span> I go to the crux of +the matter," said Dr. Silas +White, about half an hour later, +"let us first review what we know +of this so-called Horror. Suppose +you tell me exactly what you know +of it."</p> + +<p>Henry Woods shifted uneasily in +his chair. Why didn't the old fool +get down to business? The chief +would raise hell if this story didn't +make the regular edition. He stole +a glance at his wrist-watch. There +was still almost an hour left. Maybe +he could manage it. If the old chap +would only snap into it!</p> + +<p>"I know no more," he said, "than +is common knowledge."</p> + +<p>The gimlet eyes of the old white-haired +scientist regarded the newspaperman +sharply.</p> + +<p>"And that is?" he questioned.</p> + +<p>There was no way out of it, +thought Henry. He'd have to humor +the old fellow.</p> + +<p>"The Horror," he replied, "appeared +on Earth, so far as the +knowledge of man is concerned, +about six months ago."</p> + +<p>Dr. White nodded approvingly.</p> + +<p>"You state the facts very aptly," +he said.</p> + +<p>"How so?"</p> + +<p>"When you say 'so far as the +knowledge of man is concerned.'"</p> + +<p>"Why is that?"</p> + +<p>"You will understand in due +time. Please proceed."</p> + +<p>Vaguely the newspaperman wondered +whether he was interviewing +the scientist or the scientist interviewing +him.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">"They</span> were first reported," +Woods said, "early this spring. +At that time they wiped out a small +village in the province of Quebec. +All the inhabitants, except a few +fugitives, were found dead, killed +mysteriously and half eaten, as if +by wild beasts. The fugitives were +demented, babbling of black shapes +that swept down out of the dark +forest upon the little town in the +small hours of the morning.</p> + +<p>"The next that was heard of +them was about a week later, when +they struck in an isolated rural +district in Poland, killing and feeding +on the population of several +farms. In the next week more villages +were wiped out, in practically +every country on the face of the +Earth. From the hinterlands came +tales of murder done at midnight, +of men and women horribly mangled, +of livestock slaughtered, of +buildings crushed as if by some +titanic force.</p> + +<p>"At first they worked only at +night and then, seeming to become +bolder and more numerous, attacked +in broad daylight."</p> + +<p>The newspaperman paused.</p> + +<p>"Is that what you want?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>"That's part of it," replied Dr. +White, "but that's not all. What do +these Horrors look like?"</p> + +<p>"That's more difficult," said Henry. +"They have been reported as +every conceivable sort of monstrosity. +Some are large and others +are small. Some take the form of +animals, others of birds and reptiles, +and some are cast in appalling +shapes such as might be snatched +out of the horrid imagery of a +thing which resided in a world entirely +alien to our own."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Dr. White</span> rose from his chair +and strode across the room +to confront the other.</p> + +<p>"Young man," he asked, "do you +think it possible the Horror might +have come out of a world entirely +alien to our own?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," replied Henry. +"I know that some of the scientists +believe they came from some other +planet, perhaps even from some +other solar system. I know they +are like nothing ever known before +on Earth. They are always inky +black, something like black tar, you +know, sort of sticky-looking, a disgusting +sight. The weapons of mankind +can't affect them. Explosives +are useless and so are projectiles. +They wade through poison gas and +fiery chemicals and seem to enjoy +them. Elaborate electrical barriers +have failed. Heat doesn't make them +turn a hair."</p> + +<p>"And you think they came from +some other planet, perhaps some +other solar system?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what to think," +said Henry. "If they came out of +space they must have come in some +conveyance, and that would certainly +have been sighted, picked up +long before it arrived, by our +astronomers. If they came in small +conveyances, there must have been +many of them. If they came in a +single conveyance, it would be too +large to escape detection. That is, +unless—"</p> + +<p>"Unless what?" snapped the +scientist.</p> + +<p>"Unless it traveled at the speed +of light. Then it would have been +invisible."</p> + +<p>"Not only invisible," snorted the +old man, "but non-existent."</p> + +<p>A question was on the tip of the +newspaperman's tongue, but before +it could be asked the old man was +speaking again, asking a question:</p> + +<p>"Can you imagine a fourth dimension?"</p> + +<p>"No, I can't," said Henry.</p> + +<p>"Can you imagine a thing of only +two dimensions?"</p> + +<p>"Vaguely, yes."</p> + +<p>The scientist smote his palms together.</p> + +<p>"Now we're coming to it!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Henry Woods regarded the other +narrowly. The old man must be +turned. What did fourth and second +dimensions have to do with the +Horror?</p> + +<p>"Do you know anything about +evolution?" questioned the old man.</p> + +<p>"I have a slight understanding of +it. It is the process of upward +growth, the stairs by which simple +organisms climb to become more +complex organisms."</p> + +<p>Dr. White grunted and asked still +another question:</p> + +<p>"Do you know anything about +the theory of the exploding universe? +Have you ever noted the +tendency of the perfectly balanced +to run amuck?"</p> + +<p>The reporter rose slowly to his +feet.</p> + +<p>"Dr. White," he said, "you phoned +my paper you had a story for us. +I came here to get it, but all you +have done is ask me questions. If +you can't tell me what you want us +to publish, I will say good-day."</p> + +<p>The doctor put forth a hand that +shook slightly.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, young man," he said. +"I don't blame you for being impatient, +but I will now come to my +point."</p> + +<p>The newspaperman sat down +again.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">"I have</span> developed a hypothesis," +said Dr. White, "and have +conducted several experiments +which seem to bear it out. I am +staking my reputation upon the +supposition that it is correct. Not +only that, but I am also staking +the lives of several brave men who +believe implicitly in me and my +theory. After all, I suppose it makes +little difference, for if I fail the +world is doomed, if I succeed it is +saved from complete destruction.</p> + +<p>"Have you ever thought that our +evolutionists might be wrong, that +evolution might be downward instead +of upward? The theory of the +exploding universe, the belief that +all of creation is running down, +being thrown off balance by the +loss of energy, spurred onward by +cosmic accidents which tend to disturb +its equilibrium, to a time when +it will run wild and space will be +filled with swirling dust of disintegrated +worlds, would bear out +this contention.</p> + +<p>"This does not apply to the +human race. There is no question +that our evolution is upward, that +we have arisen from one-celled +creatures wallowing in the slime of +primal seas. Our case is probably +paralleled by thousands of other intelligences +on far-flung planets and +island universes. These instances, +however, running at cross purposes +to the general evolutional trend of +the entire cosmos, are mere flashes +in the eventual course of cosmic +evolution, comparing no more to +eternity than a split second does to +a million years.</p> + +<p>"Taking these instances, then, as +inconsequential, let us say that the +trend of cosmic evolution is downward +rather than upward, from +complex units to simpler units +rather than from simple units to +more complex ones.</p> + +<p>"Let us say that life and intelligence +have degenerated. How +would you say such a degeneration +would take place? In just what way +would it be manifested? What sort +of transition would life pass through +in passing from one stage to a +lower one? Just what would be the +nature of these stages?"</p> + +<p>The scientist's eyes glowed +brightly as he bent forward in his +chair. The newspaperman said +simply: "I have no idea."</p> + +<p>"Man," cried the old man, "can't +you see that it would be a matter of +dimensions? From the fourth dimension +to the third, from the +third to the second, from the second +to the first, from the first to a +questionable existence or plane +which is beyond our understanding +or perhaps to oblivion and the end +of life. Might not the fourth have +evolved from a fifth, the fifth from +a sixth, the sixth from a seventh, +and so on to no one knows what +multidimension?"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Dr. White</span> paused to allow +the other man to grasp the +importance of his statements. Woods +failed lamentably to do so.</p> + +<p>"But what has this to do with the +Horror?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Have you absolutely no imagination?" +shouted the old man.</p> + +<p>"Why, I suppose I have, but I +seem to fail to understand."</p> + +<p>"We are facing an invasion of +fourth-dimensional creatures," the +old man whispered, almost as if +fearful to speak the words aloud. +"We are being attacked by life +which is one dimension above us in +evolution. We are fighting, I tell +you, a tribe of hellhounds out of +the cosmos. They are unthinkably +above us in the matter of intelligence. +There is a chasm of knowledge +between us so wide and so +deep that it staggers the imagination. +They regard us as mere animals, +perhaps not even that. So far +as they are concerned we are just +fodder, something to be eaten as +we eat vegetables and cereals or +the flesh of domesticated animals. +Perhaps they have watched us for +years, watching life on the world +increase, lapping their monstrous +jowls over the fattening of the +Earth. They have awaited the proper +setting of the banquet table and +now they are dining.</p> + +<p>"Their thoughts are not our +thoughts, their ideals not our ideals. +Perhaps they have nothing in common +with us except the primal +basis of all life, self-preservation, +the necessity of feeding.</p> + +<p>"Maybe they have come of their +own will. I prefer to believe that +they have. Perhaps they are merely +following the natural course of +events, obeying some immutable law +legislated by some higher being +who watches over the cosmos and +dictates what shall be and what +shall not be. If this is true it +means that there has been a flaw +in my reasoning, for I believed +that the life of each plane degenerated +in company with the degeneration +of its plane of existence, +which would obey the same evolutional +laws which govern the life +upon it. I am quite satisfied that +this invasion is a well-planned +campaign, that some fourth-dimensional +race has found a means of +breaking through the veil of force +which separates its plane from +ours."</p> + +<p>"But," pointed out Henry Woods, +"you say they are fourth-dimensional +things. I can't see anything +about them to suggest an additional +dimension. They are plainly +three-dimensional."</p> + +<p>"Of course they are three-dimensional. +They would have to be to +live in this world of three dimensions. +The only two-dimensional +objects which we know of in this +world are merely illusions, projections +of the third dimension, like +a shadow. It is impossible for more +than one dimension to live on any +single plane.</p> + +<p>"To attack us they would have to +lose one dimension. This they have +evidently done. You can see how +utterly ridiculous it would be for +you to try to attack a two-dimensional +thing. So far as you were +concerned it would have no mass. +The same is true of the other dimensions. +Similarly a being of a +lesser plane could not harm an inhabitant +of a higher plane. It is +apparent that while the Horror has +lost one material dimension, it has +retained certain fourth-dimensional +properties which make it invulnerable +to the forces at the command +of our plane."</p> + +<p>The newspaperman was now sitting +on the edge of his chair.</p> + +<p>"But," he asked breathlessly, "it +all sounds so hopeless. What can +be done about it?"</p> + +<p>Dr. White hitched his chair closer +and his fingers closed with a fierce +grasp upon the other's knee. A +militant boom came into his voice.</p> + +<p>"My boy," he said, "we are to +strike back. We are going to invade +the fourth-dimensional plane of +these hellhounds. We are going to +make them feel our strength. We +are going to strike back."</p> + +<p>Henry Woods sprang to his feet.</p> + +<p>"How?" he shouted. "Have +you...?"</p> + +<p>Dr. White nodded.</p> + +<p>"I have found a way to send the +third-dimensional into the fourth. +Come and I will show you."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The</span> machine was huge, but it +had an appearance of simple +construction. A large rectangular +block of what appeared to be a +strange black metal was set on end +and flanked on each side by two +smaller ones. On the top of the +large block was set a half-globe of +a strange substance, somewhat, +Henry thought, like frosted glass. +On one side of the large cube was +set a lever, a long glass panel, two +vertical tubes and three clock-face +indicators. The control board, it +appeared, was relatively simple.</p> + +<p>Beside the mass of the five rectangles, +on the floor, was a large +plate of transparent substance, +ground to a concave surface, +through which one could see an +intricate tangle of wire mesh.</p> + +<p>Hanging from the ceiling, directly +above the one on the floor, +was another concave disk, but this +one had a far more pronounced +curvature.</p> + +<p>Wires connected the two disks +and each in turn was connected to +the rectangular machine.</p> + +<p>"It is a matter of the proper +utilization of two forces, electrical +and gravitational," proudly explained +Dr. White. "Those two +forces, properly used, warp the +third-dimensional into the fourth. +A reverse process is used to return +the object to the third. The principle +of the machine is—"</p> + +<p>The old man was about to launch +into a lengthy discussion, but Henry +interrupted him. A glance at his +watch had shown him press time +was drawing perilously close.</p> + +<p>"Just a second," he said. "You +propose to warp a third-dimensional +being into a fourth dimension. How +can a third-dimensional thing exist +there? You said a short time ago +that only a specified dimension +could exist on one single plane."</p> + +<p>"You have missed my point," +snapped Dr. White. "I am not sending +a third-dimensional thing to a +fourth dimension. I am changing +the third-dimensional being into a +fourth-dimensional being. I add a +dimension, and automatically the +being exists on a different plane. +I am reversing evolution. This +third dimension we now exist on +evolved, millions of eons ago, from +a fourth dimension. I am sending +a lesser entity back over those +millions of eons to a plane similar +to one upon which his ancestors +lived inconceivably long ago."</p> + +<p>"But, man, how do you know you +can do it?"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The</span> doctor's eyes gleamed and +his fingers reached out to press +a bell.</p> + +<p>A servant appeared almost at +once.</p> + +<p>"Bring me a dog," snapped the +old man. The servant disappeared.</p> + +<p>"Young man," said Dr. White, "I +am going to show you how I know +I can do it. I have done it before, +now I am going to do it for you. I +have sent dogs and cats back to the +fourth dimension and returned +them safely to this room. I can do +the same with men."</p> + +<p>The servant reappeared, carrying +in his arms a small dog. The doctor +stepped to the control board of his +strange machine.</p> + +<p>"All right, George," he said.</p> + +<p>The servant had evidently worked +with the old man enough to know +what was expected of him. He +stepped close to the floor disk and +waited. The dog whined softly, +sensing that all was not exactly +right.</p> + +<p>The old scientist slowly shoved +the lever toward the right, and as +he did so a faint hum filled the +room, rising to a stupendous roar +as he advanced the lever. From both +floor disk and upper disk leaped +strange cones of blue light, which +met midway to form an hour-glass +shape of brilliance.</p> + +<p>The light did not waver or sparkle. +It did not glow. It seemed hard +and brittle, like straight bars of +force. The newspaperman, gazing +with awe upon it, felt that terrific +force was there. What had the old +man said? Warp a third-dimensional +being into another dimension! +That would take force!</p> + +<p>As he watched, petrified by the +spectacle, the servant stepped forward +and, with a flip, tossed the +little dog into the blue light. The +animal could be discerned for a +moment through the light and then +it disappeared.</p> + +<p>"Look in the globe!" shouted the +old man; and Henry jerked his eyes +from the column of light to the +half-globe atop the machine.</p> + +<p>He gasped. In the globe, deep +within its milky center, glowed a +picture that made his brain reel as +he looked upon it. It was a scene +such as no man could have imagined +unaided. It was a horribly distorted +projection of an eccentric +landscape, a landscape hardly +analogous to anything on Earth.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">"That's</span> the fourth dimension, +sir," said the servant.</p> + +<p>"That's not the fourth dimension," +the old man corrected him. +"That's a third-dimensional impression +of the fourth dimension. +It is no more the fourth dimension +than a shadow is three-dimensional. +It, like a shadow, is merely a projection. +It gives us a glimpse of +what the fourth plane is like. It is +a shadow of that plane."</p> + +<p>Slowly a dark blotch began to +grow in the landscape. Slowly it +assumed definite form. It puzzled +the reporter. It looked familiar. +He could have sworn he had seen +it somewhere before. It was alive, +for it had moved.</p> + +<p>"That, sir, is the dog," George +volunteered.</p> + +<p>"That was the dog," Dr. White +again corrected him. "God knows +what it is now."</p> + +<p>He turned to the newspaperman.</p> + +<p>"Have you seen enough?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>Henry nodded.</p> + +<p>The other slowly began to return +the lever to its original position. +The roaring subsided, the light +faded, the projection in the half-globe +grew fainter.</p> + +<p>"How are you going to use it?" +asked the newspaperman.</p> + +<p>"I have ninety-eight men who +have agreed to be projected into the +fourth dimension to seek out the +entities that are attacking us and +attack them in turn. I shall send +them out in an hour."</p> + +<p>"Where is there a phone?" asked +the newspaperman.</p> + +<p>"In the next room," replied Dr. +White.</p> + +<p>As the reporter dashed out of +the door, the light faded entirely +from between the two disks and on +the lower one a little dog crouched, +quivering, softly whimpering.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The</span> old man stepped from the +controls and approached the +disk. He scooped the little animal +from where it lay into his arms and +patted the silky head.</p> + +<p>"Good dog," he murmured; and +the creature snuggled close to him, +comforted, already forgetting that +horrible place from which it had +just returned.</p> + +<p>"Is everything ready, George?" +asked the old man.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," replied the servant. +"The men are all ready, even anxious +to go. If you ask me, sir, they +are a tough lot."</p> + +<p>"They are as brave a group of +men as ever graced the Earth," replied +the scientist gently. "They +are adventurers, every one of whom +has faced danger and will not +shrink from it. They are born +fighters. My one regret is that I +have not been able to secure more +like them. A thousand men such as +they should be able to conquer any +opponent. It was impossible. The +others were poor soft fools. They +laughed in my face. They thought +I was an old fool—I, the man who +alone stands between them and utter +destruction."</p> + +<p>His voice had risen to almost a +scream, but it again sank to a +normal tone.</p> + +<p>"I may be sending ninety-eight +brave men to instant death. I hope +not."</p> + +<p>"You can always jerk them back, +sir," suggested George.</p> + +<p>"Maybe I can, maybe not," murmured +the old man.</p> + +<p>Henry Woods appeared in the +doorway.</p> + +<p>"When do we start?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"We?" exclaimed the scientist.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, you don't believe +you're going to leave me out of +this. Why, man, it's the greatest +story of all time. I'm going as +special war correspondent."</p> + +<p>"They believed it? They are going +to publish it?" cried the old man, +clutching at the newspaperman's +sleeve.</p> + +<p>"Well, the editor was skeptical +at first, but after I swore on all +sorts of oaths it was true, he ate +it up. Maybe you think that story +didn't stop the presses!"</p> + +<p>"I didn't expect them to. I just +took a chance. I thought they, +too, would laugh at me."</p> + +<p>"But when do we start?" persisted +Henry.</p> + +<p>"You are really in earnest? You +really want to go?" asked the old +man, unbelievingly.</p> + +<p>"I am going. Try to stop me."</p> + +<p>Dr. White glanced at his watch.</p> + +<p>"We will start in exactly thirty-four +minutes," he said.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">"Ten</span> seconds to go." George, +standing with watch in hand, +spoke in a precise manner, the +very crispness of his words betraying +the excitement under which +he labored.</p> + +<p>The blue light, hissing, drove +from disk to disk; the room thundered +with the roar of the machine, +before which stood Dr. White, his +hand on the lever, his eyes glued +on the instruments before him.</p> + +<p>In a line stood the men who +were to fling themselves into the +light to be warped into another +dimension, there to seek out and +fight an unknown enemy. The line +was headed by a tall man with +hands like hams, with a weather-beaten +face and a wild mop of hair. +Behind him stood a belligerent little +cockney. Henry Woods stood fifth +in line. They were a motley lot, +adventurers every one of them, and +some were obviously afraid as they +stood before that column of light, +with only a few seconds of the +third dimension left to them. They +had answered a weird advertisement, +and had but a limited idea +of what they were about to do. +Grimly, though, they accepted it as +a job, a bizarre job, but a job. +They faced it as they had faced +other equally dangerous, but less +unusual, jobs.</p> + +<p>"Five seconds," snapped George.</p> + +<p>The lever was all the way over +now. The half-globe showed, within +its milky interior, a hideously distorted +landscape. The light had +taken on a hard, brittle appearance +and its hiss had risen to a scream. +The machine thundered steadily +with a suggestion of horrible power.</p> + +<p>"Time up!"</p> + +<p>The tall man stepped forward. +His foot reached the disk; another +step and he was bathed in the light, +a third and he glimmered momentarily, +then vanished. Close on his +heels followed the little cockney.</p> + +<p>With his nerves at almost a +snapping point, Henry moved on +behind the fourth man. He was +horribly afraid, he wanted to break +from the line and run, it didn't +matter where, any place to get away +from that steady, steely light in +front of him. He had seen three +men step into it, glow for a second, +and then disappear. A fourth man +had placed his foot on the disk.</p> + +<p>Cold sweat stood out on his brow. +Like an automaton he placed one +foot on the disk. The fourth man +had already disappeared.</p> + +<p>"Snap into it, pal," growled the +man behind.</p> + +<p>Henry lifted the other foot, +caught his toe on the edge of the +disk and stumbled headlong into +the column of light.</p> + +<p>He was conscious of intense heat +which was instantly followed by +equally intense cold. For a moment +his body seemed to be under +enormous pressure, then it seemed +to be expanding, flying apart, bursting, +exploding....</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">He</span> felt solid ground under his +feet, and his eyes, snapping +open, saw an alien land. It was a +land of somber color, with great +gray moors, and beetling black +cliffs. There was something queer +about it, an intangible quality that +baffled him.</p> + +<p>He looked about him, expecting +to see his companions. He saw no +one. He was absolutely alone in +that desolate brooding land. Something +dreadful had happened! Was +he the only one to be safely transported +from the third dimension? +Had some horrible accident occurred? +Was he alone?</p> + +<p>Sudden panic seized him. If +something had happened, if the +others were not here, might it not +be possible that the machine would +not be able to bring him back to +his own dimension? Was he doomed +to remain marooned forever in this +terrible plane?</p> + +<p>He looked down at his body +and gasped in dismay. It was not +his body!</p> + +<p>It was a grotesque caricature of +a body, a horrible profane mass of +flesh, like a phantasmagoric beast +snatched from the dreams of a +lunatic.</p> + +<p>It was real, however. He felt it +with his hands, but they were not +hands. They were something like +hands; they served the same purpose +that hands served in the third +dimension. He was, he realized, a +being of the fourth dimension, but +in his fourth-dimensional brain still +clung hard-fighting remnants of +that faithful old third-dimensional +brain. He could not, as yet, see +with fourth-dimensional eyes, think +purely fourth-dimensional thoughts. +He had not oriented himself as yet +to this new plane of existence. He +was seeing the fourth dimension +through the blurred lenses of millions +of eons of third-dimensional +existence. He was seeing it much +more clearly than he had seen it +in the half-globe atop the machine +in Dr. White's laboratory, but he +would not see it clearly until every +vestige of the third dimension was +wiped from him. That, he knew, +would come in time.</p> + +<p>He felt his weird body with those +things that served as hands, and he +found, beneath his groping, unearthly +fingers, great rolling muscles, +powerful tendons, and hard, +well-conditioned flesh. A sense of +well-being surged through him and +he growled like an animal, like an +animal of that horrible fourth plane.</p> + +<p>But the terrible sounds that came +from between his slobbering lips +were not those of his own voice, +they were the voices of many men.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Then</span> he knew. He was not +alone. Here, in this one body +were the bodies, the brains, the +power, the spirit, of those other +ninety-eight men. In the fourth dimension, +all the millions of third-dimensional +things were one. Perhaps +that particular portion of the +third dimension called the Earth +had sprung from, or degenerated +from, one single unit of a dissolving, +worn-out fourth dimension. The +third dimension, warped back to a +higher plane, was automatically +obeying the mystic laws of evolution +by reforming in the shape of +that old ancestor, unimaginably removed +in time from the race he had +begot. He was no longer Henry +Woods, newspaperman; he was an +entity that had given birth, in the +dim ages when the Earth was born, +to a third dimension. Nor was he +alone. This body of his was composed +of other sons of that ancient +entity.</p> + +<p>He felt himself grow, felt his +body grow vaster, assume greater +proportions, felt new vitality flow +through him. It was the other men, +the men who were flinging themselves +into the column of light in +the laboratory to be warped back +to this plane, to be incorporated +in his body.</p> + +<p>It was not his body, however. +His brain was not his alone. The +pronoun, he realized, represented +the sum total of those other men, +his fellow adventurers.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a new feeling came, a +feeling of completeness, a feeling +of supreme fitness. He knew that +the last of the ninety-eight men +had stepped across the disk, that +all were here in this giant body.</p> + +<p>Now he could see more clearly. +Things in the landscape, which had +escaped him before, became recognizable. +Awful thoughts ran through +his brain, heavy, ponderous, black +thoughts. He began to recognize +the landscape as something familiar, +something he had seen before, a +thing with which he was intimate. +Phenomena, which his third-dimensional +intelligence would have +gasped at, became commonplace. +He was finally seeing through +fourth-dimensional eyes, thinking +fourth-dimensional thoughts.</p> + +<p>Memory seeped into his brain and +he had fleeting visions, visions of +dark caverns lit by hellish flames, +of huge seas that battered remorselessly +with mile-high waves against +towering headlands that reared titanic +toward a glowering sky. He +remembered a red desert scattered +with scarlet boulders, he remembered +silver cliffs of gleaming +metallic stone. Through all his +thoughts ran something else, a scarlet +thread of hate, an all-consuming +passion, a fierce lust after the life +of some other entity.</p> + +<p>He was no longer a composite +thing built of third-dimensional beings. +He was a creature of another +plane, a creature with a consuming +hate, and suddenly he knew against +whom this hate was directed and +why. He knew also that this creature +was near and his great fists +closed and then spread wide as he +knew it. How did he know it? Perhaps +through some sense which he, +as a being of another plane, held, +but which was alien to the Earth. +Later, he asked himself this question. +At the time, however, there +was no questioning on his part. He +only knew that somewhere near +was a hated enemy and he did not +question the source of his knowledge....</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Mumbling</span> in an idiom incomprehensible +to a third-dimensional +being, filled with rage +that wove redly through his brain, +he lumbered down the hill onto the +moor, his great strides eating up +the distance, his footsteps shaking +the ground.</p> + +<p>At the foot of the hill he halted +and from his throat issued a challenging +roar that made the very +crags surrounding the moor tremble. +The rocks flung back the roar +as if in mockery.</p> + +<p>Again he shouted and in the +shout he framed a lurid insult to +the enemy that lurked there in the +cliffs.</p> + +<p>Again the crags flung back the +insult, but this time the echoes, +booming over the moor, were +drowned by another voice, the +voice of the enemy.</p> + +<p>At the far end of the moor appeared +a gigantic form, a form that +shambled on grotesque, misshapen +feet, growling angrily as he came.</p> + +<p>He came rapidly despite his +clumsy gait, and as he came he +mouthed terrific threats.</p> + +<p>Close to the other he halted and +only then did recognition dawn in +his eyes.</p> + +<p>"<i>You, Mal Shaff?</i>" he growled +in his guttural tongue, and surprise +and consternation were written +large upon his ugly face.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is I, Mal Shaff," boomed +the other. "Remember, Ouglat, the +day you destroyed me and my +plane. I have returned to wreak +my vengeance. I have solved a mystery +you have never guessed and +I have come back. You did not +imagine you were attacking me +again when you sent your minions +to that other plane to feed upon +the beings there. It was I you were +attacking, fool, and I am here to +kill you."</p> + +<p>Ouglat leaped and the thing that +had been Henry Woods, newspaperman, +and ninety-eight other +men, but was now Mal Shaff of the +fourth dimension, leaped to meet +him.</p> + +<p>Mal Shaff felt the force of +Ouglat, felt the sharp pain of a +hammering fist, and lashed out with +those horrible arms of his to smash +at the leering face of his antagonist. +He felt his fists strike solid +flesh, felt the bones creak and +tremble beneath his blow.</p> + +<p>His nostrils were filled with the +terrible stench of the other's foul +breath and his filthy body. He +teetered on his gnarled legs and +side-stepped a vicious kick and +then stepped in to gouge with +straightened thumb at the other's +eye. The thumb went true and +Ouglat howled in pain.</p> + +<p>Mal Shaff leaped back as his opponent +charged head down, and his +knotted fist beat a thunderous tattoo +as the misshapen beast closed +in. He felt clawing fingers seeking +his throat, felt ghastly nails ripping +at his shoulders. In desperation +he struck blindly, and Ouglat +reeled away. With a quick stride +he shortened the distance between +them and struck Ouglat a hard +blow squarely on his slavering +mouth. Pressing hard upon the +reeling figure, he swung his fists +like sledge-hammers, and Ouglat +stumbled, falling in a heap on the +sand.</p> + +<p>Mal Shaff leaped upon the fallen +foe and kicked him with his taloned +feet, ripping him wickedly. +There was no thought of fair play, +no faintest glimmer of mercy. This +was a battle to the death: there +could be no quarter.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The</span> fallen monster howled, +but his voice cut short as his +foul mouth, with its razor-edged +fangs, closed on the other's body. +His talons, seeking a hold, clawed +deep.</p> + +<p>Mal Shaff, his brain a screaming +maelstrom of weird emotions, aimed +pile-driver blows at the enemy, +clawed and ripped. Together the +two rolled, locked tight in titanic +battle, on the sandy plain and a +great cloud of heavy dust marked +where they struggled.</p> + +<p>In desperation Ouglat put every +ounce of his strength into a heave +that broke the other's grip and +flung him away.</p> + +<p>The two monstrosities surged to +their feet, their eyes red with hate, +glaring through the dust cloud at +one another.</p> + +<p>Slowly Ouglat's hand stole to a +black, wicked cylinder that hung +on a belt at his waist. His fingers +closed upon it and he drew the +weapon. As he leveled it at Mal +Shaff, his lips curled back and his +features distorted into something +that was not pleasant to see.</p> + +<p>Mal Shaff, with doubled fists, +saw the great thumb of his enemy +slowly depressing a button on the +cylinder, and a great fear held him +rooted in his tracks. In the back +of his brain something was vainly +trying to explain to him the horror +of this thing which the other held.</p> + +<p>Then a multicolored spiral, like +a corkscrew column of vapor, +sprang from the cylinder and +flashed toward him. It struck him +full on the chest and even as it did +so he caught the ugly fire of triumph +in the red eyes of his enemy.</p> + +<p>He felt a stinging sensation +where the spiral struck, but that +was all. He was astounded. He had +feared this weapon, had been sure +it portended some form of horrible +death. But all it did was to produce +a slight sting.</p> + +<p>For a split second he stood stock-still, +then he surged forward and +advanced upon Ouglat, his hands +outspread like claws. From his +throat came those horrible sounds, +the speech of the fourth dimension.</p> + +<p>"Did I not tell you, foul son of +Sargouthe, that I had solved a mystery +you have never guessed at? +Although you destroyed me long +ago, I have returned. Throw away +your puny weapon. I am of the +lower dimension and am invulnerable +to your engines of destruction. +You bloated...." His words trailed +off into a stream of vileness that +could never have occurred to a +third-dimensional mind.</p> + +<p>Ouglat, with every line of his +face distorted with fear, flung the +weapon from him, and turning, fled +clumsily down the moor, with Mal +Shaff at his heels.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Steadily</span> Mal Shaff gained +and with only a few feet separating +him from Ouglat, he dived +with outspread arms at the other's +legs.</p> + +<p>The two came down together, +but Mal Shaff's grip was broken +by the fall and the two regained +their feet at almost the same instant.</p> + +<p>The wild moor resounded to their +throaty roaring and the high cliffs +flung back the echoes of the bellowing +of the two gladiators below. +It was sheer strength now and flesh +and bone were bruised and broken +under the life-shaking blows that +they dealt. Great furrows were +plowed in the sand by the sliding +of heavy feet as the two fighters +shifted to or away from attack. +Blood, blood of fourth-dimensional +creatures, covered the bodies of the +two and stained the sand with its +horrible hue. Perspiration streamed +from them and their breath came +in gulping gasps.</p> + +<p>The lurid sun slid across the purple +sky and still the two fought +on. Ouglat, one of the ancients, +and Mal Shaff, reincarnated. It was +a battle of giants, a battle that +must have beggared even the titanic +tilting of forgotten gods and +entities in the ages when the third-dimensional +Earth was young.</p> + +<p>Mal Shaff had no conception of +time. He may have fought seconds +or hours. It seemed an eternity. +He had attempted to fight scientifically, +but had failed to do so. +While one part of him had cried +out to elude his opponent, to wait +for openings, to conserve his +strength, another part had shouted +at him to step in and smash, smash, +smash at the hated monstrosity pitted +against him.</p> + +<p>It seemed Ouglat was growing in +size, had become more agile, that +his strength was greater. His +punches hurt more; it was harder +to hit him.</p> + +<p>Still Mal Shaff drilled in determinedly, +head down, fists working +like pistons. As the other seemed +to grow stronger and larger, he +seemed to become smaller and +weaker.</p> + +<p>It was queer. Ouglat should be +tired, too. His punches should be +weaker. He should move more slowly, +be heavier on his feet.</p> + +<p>There was no doubt of it. Ouglat +was growing larger, was drawing +on some mysterious reserve of +strength. From somewhere new +force and life were flowing into +his body. But from where was this +strength coming?</p> + +<p>A huge fist smashed against Mal +Shaff's jaw. He felt himself lifted, +and the next moment he skidded +across the sand.</p> + +<p>Lying there, gasping for breath, +almost too fagged to rise, with the +black bulk of the enemy looming +through the dust cloud before him, +he suddenly realized the source of +the other's renewed strength.</p> + +<p>Ouglat was recalling his minions +from the third dimension! They +were incorporating in his body, returning +to their parent body!</p> + +<p>They were coming back from the +third dimension to the fourth dimension +to fight a third-dimensional +thing reincarnated in the fourth-dimensional +form it had lost +millions of eons ago!</p> + +<p>This was the end, thought Mal +Shaff. But he staggered to his feet +to meet the charge of the ancient +enemy and a grim song, a death +chant immeasurably old, suddenly +and dimly remembered from out +of the mists of countless millenniums, +was on his lips as he swung +a pile-driver blow into the suddenly +astonished face of the rushing +Ouglat....</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The</span> milky globe atop the machine +in Dr. White's laboratory +glowed softly, and within that +glow two figures seemed to struggle.</p> + +<p>Before the machine, his hands +still on the controls, stood Dr. +Silas White. Behind him the room +was crowded with newspapermen +and photographers.</p> + +<p>Hours had passed since the ninety-eight +men—ninety-nine, counting +Henry Woods—had stepped into +the brittle column of light to be +shunted back through unguessed +time to a different plane of existence. +The old scientist, during all +those hours, had stood like a graven +image before his machine, eyes staring +fixedly at the globe.</p> + +<p>Through the open windows he +had heard the cry of the newsboy +as the <i>Press</i> put the greatest scoop +of all time on the street. The phone +had rung like mad and George answered +it. The doorbell buzzed repeatedly +and George ushered in +newspapermen who had asked innumerable +questions, to which he +had replied briefly, almost mechanically. +The reporters had fought for +the use of the one phone in the +house and had finally drawn lots +for it. A few had raced out to use +other phones.</p> + +<p>Photographers came and flashes +popped and cameras clicked. The +room was in an uproar. On the rare +occasions when the reporters were +not using the phone the instrument +buzzed shrilly. Authoritative +voices demanded Dr. Silas White. +George, his eyes on the old man, +stated that Dr. Silas White could +not be disturbed, that he was busy.</p> + +<p>From the street below came the +heavy-throated hum of thousands +of voices. The street was packed +with a jostling crowd of awed humanity, +every eye fastened on the +house of Dr. Silas White. Lines of +police held them back.</p> + +<p>"What makes them move so slowly?" +asked a reporter, staring at +the globe. "They hardly seem to be +moving. It looks like a slow motion +picture."</p> + +<p>"They are not moving slowly," +replied Dr. White. "There must be +a difference in time in the fourth +dimension. Maybe what is hours to +us is only seconds to them. Time +must flow more slowly there. Perhaps +it is a bigger place than this +third plane. That may account for +it. They aren't moving slowly, they +are fighting savagely. It's a fight +to the death! Watch!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The</span> grotesque arm of one of +the figures in the milky globe +was moving out slowly, loafing +along, aimed at the head of the +other. Slowly the other twisted his +body aside, but too slowly. The fist +finally touched the head, still moving +slowly forward, the body following +as slowly. The head of the +creature twisted, bent backward, +and the body toppled back in a +leisurely manner.</p> + +<p>"What does White say?... +Can't you get a statement of some +sort from him? Won't he talk at +all? A hell of a fine reporter you +are—can't even get a man to open +his mouth. Ask him about Henry +Woods. Get a human-interest slant +on Woods walking into the light. +Ask him how long this is going to +last. Damn it all, man, do something, +and don't bother me again +until you have a real story—yes, I +said a real story—are you hard of +hearing? For God's sake, do something!"</p> + +<p>The editor slammed the receiver +on the hook.</p> + +<p>"Brooks," he snapped, "get the +War Department at Washington. +Ask them if they're going to back +up White. Go on, go on. Get busy.... +How will you get them? I +don't know. Just get them, that's +all. Get them!"</p> + +<p>Typewriters gibbered like chuckling +morons through the roaring +tumult of the editorial rooms. Copy +boys rushed about, white sheets +clutched in their grimy hands. Telephones +jangled and strident voices +blared through the haze that arose +from the pipes and cigarettes of +perspiring writers who feverishly +transferred to paper the startling +events that were rocking the world.</p> + +<p>The editor, his necktie off, his +shirt open, his sleeves rolled to the +elbow, drummed his fingers on the +desk. It had been a hectic twenty-four +hours and he had stayed at +the desk every minute of the time. +He was dead tired. When the moment +of relaxation came, when the +tension snapped, he knew he would +fall into an exhausted stupor of +sleep, but the excitement was keeping +him on his feet. There was +work to do. There was news such +as the world had never known before. +Each new story meant a new +front make-up, another extra. Even +now the presses were thundering, +even now papers with the ink hardly +dry upon them were being +snatched by the avid public from +the hands of screaming newsboys.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">A man</span> raced toward the city +desk, waving a sheet of paper +in his hand. Sensing something +unusual the others in the room +crowded about as he laid the sheet +before the editor.</p> + +<p>"Just came in," the man gasped.</p> + +<p>The paper was a wire dispatch. +It read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Rome—The Black Horror is +in full retreat. Although still +apparently immune to the +weapons being used against it, +it is lifting the siege of this +city. The cause is unknown."</p></div> + +<p>The editor ran his eye down the +sheet. There was another dateline:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Madrid—The Black Horror, +which has enclosed this city in +a ring of dark terror for the +last two days, is fleeing, rapidly +disappearing...."</p></div> + +<p>The editor pressed a button. +There was an answering buzz.</p> + +<p>"Composing room," he shouted, +"get ready for a new front! Yes, +another extra. This will knock +their eyes out!"</p> + +<p>A telephone jangled furiously. +The editor seized it.</p> + +<p>"Yes. What was that?... White +says he must have help. I see. +Woods and the others are weakening. +Being badly beaten, eh?... +More men needed to go out to the +other plane. Wants reinforcements. +Yes. I see. Well, tell him that he'll +have them. If he can wait half an +hour we'll have them walking by +thousands into that light. I'll be +damned if we won't! Just tell +White to hang on! We'll have the +whole nation coming to the rescue!"</p> + +<p>He jabbed up the receiver.</p> + +<p>"Richards," he said, "write a +streamer, 'Help Needed,' 'Reinforcements +Called'—something of that +sort, you know. Make it scream. +Tell the foreman to dig out the +biggest type he has. A foot high. +If we ever needed big type, we +need it now!"</p> + +<p>He turned to the telephone.</p> + +<p>"Operator," he said, "get me the +Secretary of War at Washington. +The secretary in person, you understand. +No one else will do."</p> + +<p>He turned again to the reporters +who stood about the desk.</p> + +<p>"In two hours," he explained, +banging the desk top for emphasis, +"we'll have the United States Army +marching into that light Woods +walked into!"</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The</span> bloody sun was touching +the edge of the weird world, +seeming to hesitate before taking +the final plunge behind the towering +black crags that hung above +the ink-pot shadows at their base. +The purple sky had darkened until +it was almost the color of soft, +black velvet. Great stars were blazing +out.</p> + +<p>Ouglat loomed large in the gathering +twilight, a horrible misshapen +ogre of an outer world. He had +grown taller, broader, greater. Mal +Shaff's head now was on a level +with the other's chest; his huge +arms seemed toylike in comparison +with those of Ouglat, his legs mere +pipestems.</p> + +<p>Time and time again he had barely +escaped as the clutching hands +of Ouglat reached out to grasp him. +Once within those hands he would +be torn apart.</p> + +<p>The battle had become a game of +hide and seek, a game of cat and +mouse, with Mal Shaff the mouse.</p> + +<p>Slowly the sun sank and the +world became darker. His brain +working feverishly, Mal Shaff waited +for the darkness. Adroitly he +worked the battle nearer and +nearer to the Stygian darkness that +lay at the foot of the mighty crags. +In the darkness he might escape. +He could no longer continue this +unequal fight. Only escape was left.</p> + +<p>The sun was gone now. Blackness +was dropping swiftly over the land, +like a great blanket, creating the +illusion of the glowering sky descending +to the ground. Only a few +feet away lay the total blackness +under the cliffs.</p> + +<p>Like a flash Mal Shaff darted +into the blackness, was completely +swallowed in it. Roaring, Ouglat +followed.</p> + +<p>His shoulders almost touching +the great rock wall that shot +straight up hundreds of feet above +him, Mal Shaff ran swiftly, fear +lending speed to his shivering legs. +Behind him he heard the bellowing +of his enemy. Ouglat was searching +for him, a hopeless search in +that total darkness. He would never +find him. Mal Shaff felt sure.</p> + +<p>Fagged and out of breath, he +dropped panting at the foot of the +wall. Blood pounded through his +head and his strength seemed to +be gone. He lay still and stared +out into the less dark moor that +stretched before him.</p> + +<p>For some time he lay there, resting. +Aimlessly he looked out over +the moor, and then he suddenly +noted, some distance to his right, +a hill rising from the moor. The +hill was vaguely familiar. He remembered +it dimly as being of +great importance.</p> + +<p>A sudden inexplicable restlessness +filled him. Far behind him he +heard the enraged bellowing of +Ouglat, but that he scarcely noticed. +So long as darkness lay upon +the land he knew he was safe from +his enemy.</p> + +<p>The hill had made him restless. +He must reach the top. He could +think of no logical reason for doing +so. Obviously he was safer here +at the base of the cliff, but a voice +seemed to be calling, a friendly +voice from the hilltop.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">He</span> rose on aching legs and +forged ahead. Every fiber of +his being cried out in protest, but +resolutely he placed one foot ahead +of the other, walking mechanically.</p> + +<p>Opposite the hill he disregarded +the strange call that pulsed down +upon him, long enough to rest his +tortured body. He must build up +his strength for the climb.</p> + +<p>He realized that danger lay +ahead. Once he quitted the blackness +of the cliff's base, Ouglat, even +in the darkness that lay over the +land, might see him. That would +be disastrous. Once over the top +of the hill he would be safe.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the landscape was +bathed in light, a soft green radiance. +One moment it had been +pitch dark, the next it was light, +as if a giant search-light had been +snapped on.</p> + +<p>In terror, Mal Shaff looked for +the source of the light. Just above +the horizon hung a great green orb, +which moved up the ladder of the +sky even as he watched.</p> + +<p>A moon! A huge green satellite +hurtling swiftly around this cursed +world!</p> + +<p>A great, overwhelming fear sat +upon Mal Shaff and with a high, +shrill scream of anger he raced forward, +forgetful of aching body and +outraged lungs.</p> + +<p>His scream was answered from +far off, and out of the shadows of +the cliffs toward the far end of the +moor a black figure hurled itself. +Ouglat was on the trail!</p> + +<p>Mal Shaff tore madly up the +slope, topped the crest, and threw +himself flat on the ground, almost +exhausted.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">A queer</span> feeling stole over +him, a queer feeling of well-being. +New strength was flowing +into him, the old thrill of battle +was pounding through his blood +once more.</p> + +<p>Not only were queer things happening +to his body, but also to his +brain. The world about him looked +queer, held a sort of an intangible +mystery he could not understand. +A half question formed in the back +of his brain. Who and what was +he? Queer thoughts to be thinking! +He was Mal Shaff, but had he +always been Mal Shaff?</p> + +<p>He remembered a brittle column +of light, creatures with bodies unlike +his body, walking into it. He +had been one of those creatures. +There was something about dimensions, +about different planes, a +plan for one plane to attack another!</p> + +<p>He scrambled to his bowed legs +and beat his great chest with +mighty, long-nailed hands. He flung +back his head and from his throat +broke a sound to curdle the blood +of even the bravest.</p> + +<p>On the moor below Ouglat heard +the cry and answered it with one +equally ferocious.</p> + +<p>Mal Shaff took a step forward, +then stopped stock-still. Through +his brain went a sharp command +to return to the spot where he had +stood, to wait there until attacked. +He stepped back, shifting his feet +impatiently.</p> + +<p>He was growing larger; every +second fresh vitality was pouring +into him. Before his eyes danced a +red curtain of hate and his tongue +roared forth a series of insulting +challenges to the figure that was +even now approaching the foot of +the hill.</p> + +<p>As Ouglat climbed the hill, the +night became an insane bedlam. +The challenging roars beat like +surf against the black cliffs.</p> + +<p>Ouglat's lips were flecked with +foam, his red eyes were mere slits, +his mouth worked convulsively.</p> + +<p>They were only a few feet apart +when Ouglat charged.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Mal Shaff</span> was ready for +him. There was no longer any +difference in their size and they +met like the two forward walls of +contending football teams.</p> + +<p>Mal Shaff felt the soft throat of +the other under his fingers and his +grip tightened. Maddened, Ouglat +shot terrific blow after terrific +blow into Mal Shaff's body.</p> + +<p>Try as he might, however, he +could not shake the other's grip.</p> + +<p>It was silent now. The night +seemed brooding, watching the +struggle on the hilltop.</p> + +<p>Larger and larger grew Mal +Shaff, until he overtopped Ouglat +like a giant.</p> + +<p>Then he loosened his grip and, +as Ouglat tried to scuttle away, +reached down to grasp him by the +nape of his neck.</p> + +<p>High above his head he lifted +his enemy and dashed him to the +ground. With a leap he was on the +prostrate figure, trampling it apart, +smashing it into the ground. With +wild cries he stamped the earth, +treading out the last of Ouglat, the +Black Horror.</p> + +<p>When no trace of the thing that +had been Ouglat remained, he +moved away and viewed the trampled +ground.</p> + +<p>Then, for the first time he noticed +that the crest of the hill was +crowded with other monstrous figures. +He glared at them, half in +surprise, half in anger. He had not +noticed their silent approach.</p> + +<p>"It is Mal Shaff!" cried one.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am Mal Shaff. What do +you want?"</p> + +<p>"But, Mal Shaff, Ouglat destroyed +you once long ago!"</p> + +<p>"And I, just now," replied Mal +Shaff, "have destroyed Ouglat."</p> + +<p>The figures were silent, shifting +uneasily. Then one stepped forward.</p> + +<p>"Mal Shaff," it said, "we thought +you were dead. Apparently it was +not so. We welcome you to our +land again. Ouglat, who once tried +to kill you and apparently failed, +you have killed, which is right and +proper. Come and live with us +again in peace. We welcome you."</p> + +<p>Mal Shaff bowed.</p> + +<p>Gone was all thought of the +third dimension. Through Mal +Shaff's mind raced strange, haunting +memories of a red desert scattered +with scarlet boulders, of silver +cliffs of gleaming metallic +stone, of huge seas battering +against towering headlands. There +were other things, too. Great palaces +of shining jewels, and weird +nights of inhuman joy where hellish +flames lit deep, black caverns.</p> + +<p>He bowed again.</p> + +<p>"I thank you, Bathazar," he said.</p> + +<p>Without a backward look he +shambled down the hill with the +others.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">"Yes?"</span> said the editor. "What's +that you say? Doctor White +is dead! A suicide! Yeah, I understand. +Worry, hey! Here, Roberts, +take this story."</p> + +<p>He handed over the phone.</p> + +<p>"When you write it," he said, +"play up the fact he was worried +about not being able to bring the +men back to the third dimension. +Give him plenty of praise for ending +the Black Horror. It's a big +story."</p> + +<p>"Sure," said Roberts, then spoke +into the phone: "All right, Bill, +shoot the works."</p> + +<div class="trn"><b>Transcriber's Note:</b> +This etext was produced from <i>Astounding Stories</i> June 1932. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and +typographical errors have been corrected without note</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Hellhounds of the Cosmos, by Clifford Donald Simak + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HELLHOUNDS OF THE COSMOS *** + +***** This file should be named 27013-h.htm or 27013-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/0/1/27013/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://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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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: Hellhounds of the Cosmos + +Author: Clifford Donald Simak + +Release Date: October 24, 2008 [EBook #27013] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HELLHOUNDS OF THE COSMOS *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: _He glimmered momentarily, then vanished._] + + +Hellhounds of the Cosmos + +By Clifford D. Simak + + + Weird are the conditions of the + interdimensional struggle faced + by Dr. White's ninety-nine men. + + +The paper had gone to press, graphically describing the latest of the +many horrible events which had been enacted upon the Earth in the last +six months. The headlines screamed that Six Corners, a little hamlet in +Pennsylvania, had been wiped out by the Horror. Another front-page +story told of a Terror in the Amazon Valley which had sent the natives +down the river in babbling fear. Other stories told of deaths here and +there, all attributable to the "Black Horror," as it was called. + +The telephone rang. + +"Hello," said the editor. + +"London calling," came the voice of the operator. + +"All right," replied the editor. + +He recognized the voice of Terry Masters, special correspondent. His +voice came clearly over the transatlantic telephone. + +"The Horror is attacking London in force," he said. "There are thousands +of them and they have completely surrounded the city. All roads are +blocked. The government declared the city under martial rule a quarter +of an hour ago and efforts are being made to prepare for resistance +against the enemy." + +"Just a second," the editor shouted into the transmitter. + +He touched a button on his desk and in a moment an answering buzz told +him he was in communication with the press-room. + +"Stop the presses!" he yelled into the speaking tube. "Get ready for a +new front make-up!" + +"O.K.," came faintly through the tube, and the editor turned back to the +phone. + +"Now let's have it," he said, and the voice at the London end of the +wire droned on, telling the story that in another half hour was read by +a world which shuddered in cold fear even as it scanned the glaring +headlines. + + * * * * * + +"Woods," said the editor of the _Press_ to a reporter, "run over and +talk to Dr. Silas White. He phoned me to send someone. Something about +this Horror business." + +Henry Woods rose from his chair without a word and walked from the +office. As he passed the wire machine it was tapping out, with a +maddeningly methodical slowness, the story of the fall of London. Only +half an hour before it had rapped forth the flashes concerning the +attack on Paris and Berlin. + +He passed out of the building into a street that was swarming with +terrified humanity. Six months of terror, of numerous mysterious deaths, +of villages blotted out, had set the world on edge. Now with London in +possession of the Horror and Paris and Berlin fighting hopelessly for +their lives, the entire population of the world was half insane with +fright. + +Exhorters on street corners enlarged upon the end of the world, asking +that the people prepare for eternity, attributing the Horror to the act +of a Supreme Being enraged with the wickedness of the Earth. + +Expecting every moment an attack by the Horror, people left their work +and gathered in the streets. Traffic, in places, had been blocked for +hours and law and order were practically paralyzed. Commerce and +transportation were disrupted as fright-ridden people fled from the +larger cities, seeking doubtful hiding places in rural districts from +the death that stalked the land. + +A loudspeaker in front of a music store blared forth the latest news +flashes. + +"It has been learned," came the measured tones of the announcer, "that +all communication with Berlin ceased about ten minutes ago. At Paris all +efforts to hold the Horror at bay have been futile. Explosives blow it +apart, but have the same effect upon it as explosion has on gas. It +flies apart and then reforms again, not always in the same shape as it +was before. A new gas, one of the most deadly ever conceived by man, has +failed to have any effect on the things. Electric guns and heat guns +have absolutely no effect upon them. + +"A news flash which has just come in from Rome says that a large number +of the Horrors has been sighted north of that city by airmen. It seems +they are attacking the capitals of the world first. Word comes from +Washington that every known form of defense is being amassed at that +city. New York is also preparing...." + +Henry Woods fought his way through the crowd which milled in front of +the loudspeaker. The hum of excitement was giving away to a silence, the +silence of a stunned people, the fearful silence of a populace facing a +presence it is unable to understand, an embattled world standing with +useless weapons before an incomprehensible enemy. + +In despair the reporter looked about for a taxi, but realized, with a +groan of resignation, that no taxi could possibly operate in that +crowded street. A street car, blocked by the stream of humanity which +jostled and elbowed about it, stood still, a defeated thing. + +Seemingly the only man with a definite purpose in that whirlpool of +terror-stricken men and women, the newspaperman settled down to the +serious business of battling his way through the swarming street. + + * * * * * + +"Before I go to the crux of the matter," said Dr. Silas White, about +half an hour later, "let us first review what we know of this so-called +Horror. Suppose you tell me exactly what you know of it." + +Henry Woods shifted uneasily in his chair. Why didn't the old fool get +down to business? The chief would raise hell if this story didn't make +the regular edition. He stole a glance at his wrist-watch. There was +still almost an hour left. Maybe he could manage it. If the old chap +would only snap into it! + +"I know no more," he said, "than is common knowledge." + +The gimlet eyes of the old white-haired scientist regarded the +newspaperman sharply. + +"And that is?" he questioned. + +There was no way out of it, thought Henry. He'd have to humor the old +fellow. + +"The Horror," he replied, "appeared on Earth, so far as the knowledge of +man is concerned, about six months ago." + +Dr. White nodded approvingly. + +"You state the facts very aptly," he said. + +"How so?" + +"When you say 'so far as the knowledge of man is concerned.'" + +"Why is that?" + +"You will understand in due time. Please proceed." + +Vaguely the newspaperman wondered whether he was interviewing the +scientist or the scientist interviewing him. + + * * * * * + +"They were first reported," Woods said, "early this spring. At that time +they wiped out a small village in the province of Quebec. All the +inhabitants, except a few fugitives, were found dead, killed +mysteriously and half eaten, as if by wild beasts. The fugitives were +demented, babbling of black shapes that swept down out of the dark +forest upon the little town in the small hours of the morning. + +"The next that was heard of them was about a week later, when they +struck in an isolated rural district in Poland, killing and feeding on +the population of several farms. In the next week more villages were +wiped out, in practically every country on the face of the Earth. From +the hinterlands came tales of murder done at midnight, of men and women +horribly mangled, of livestock slaughtered, of buildings crushed as if +by some titanic force. + +"At first they worked only at night and then, seeming to become bolder +and more numerous, attacked in broad daylight." + +The newspaperman paused. + +"Is that what you want?" he asked. + +"That's part of it," replied Dr. White, "but that's not all. What do +these Horrors look like?" + +"That's more difficult," said Henry. "They have been reported as every +conceivable sort of monstrosity. Some are large and others are small. +Some take the form of animals, others of birds and reptiles, and some +are cast in appalling shapes such as might be snatched out of the horrid +imagery of a thing which resided in a world entirely alien to our own." + + * * * * * + +Dr. White rose from his chair and strode across the room to confront the +other. + +"Young man," he asked, "do you think it possible the Horror might have +come out of a world entirely alien to our own?" + +"I don't know," replied Henry. "I know that some of the scientists +believe they came from some other planet, perhaps even from some other +solar system. I know they are like nothing ever known before on Earth. +They are always inky black, something like black tar, you know, sort of +sticky-looking, a disgusting sight. The weapons of mankind can't affect +them. Explosives are useless and so are projectiles. They wade through +poison gas and fiery chemicals and seem to enjoy them. Elaborate +electrical barriers have failed. Heat doesn't make them turn a hair." + +"And you think they came from some other planet, perhaps some other +solar system?" + +"I don't know what to think," said Henry. "If they came out of space +they must have come in some conveyance, and that would certainly have +been sighted, picked up long before it arrived, by our astronomers. If +they came in small conveyances, there must have been many of them. If +they came in a single conveyance, it would be too large to escape +detection. That is, unless--" + +"Unless what?" snapped the scientist. + +"Unless it traveled at the speed of light. Then it would have been +invisible." + +"Not only invisible," snorted the old man, "but non-existent." + +A question was on the tip of the newspaperman's tongue, but before it +could be asked the old man was speaking again, asking a question: + +"Can you imagine a fourth dimension?" + +"No, I can't," said Henry. + +"Can you imagine a thing of only two dimensions?" + +"Vaguely, yes." + +The scientist smote his palms together. + +"Now we're coming to it!" he exclaimed. + +Henry Woods regarded the other narrowly. The old man must be turned. +What did fourth and second dimensions have to do with the Horror? + +"Do you know anything about evolution?" questioned the old man. + +"I have a slight understanding of it. It is the process of upward +growth, the stairs by which simple organisms climb to become more +complex organisms." + +Dr. White grunted and asked still another question: + +"Do you know anything about the theory of the exploding universe? Have +you ever noted the tendency of the perfectly balanced to run amuck?" + +The reporter rose slowly to his feet. + +"Dr. White," he said, "you phoned my paper you had a story for us. I +came here to get it, but all you have done is ask me questions. If you +can't tell me what you want us to publish, I will say good-day." + +The doctor put forth a hand that shook slightly. + +"Sit down, young man," he said. "I don't blame you for being impatient, +but I will now come to my point." + +The newspaperman sat down again. + + * * * * * + +"I have developed a hypothesis," said Dr. White, "and have conducted +several experiments which seem to bear it out. I am staking my +reputation upon the supposition that it is correct. Not only that, but I +am also staking the lives of several brave men who believe implicitly in +me and my theory. After all, I suppose it makes little difference, for +if I fail the world is doomed, if I succeed it is saved from complete +destruction. + +"Have you ever thought that our evolutionists might be wrong, that +evolution might be downward instead of upward? The theory of the +exploding universe, the belief that all of creation is running down, +being thrown off balance by the loss of energy, spurred onward by cosmic +accidents which tend to disturb its equilibrium, to a time when it will +run wild and space will be filled with swirling dust of disintegrated +worlds, would bear out this contention. + +"This does not apply to the human race. There is no question that our +evolution is upward, that we have arisen from one-celled creatures +wallowing in the slime of primal seas. Our case is probably paralleled +by thousands of other intelligences on far-flung planets and island +universes. These instances, however, running at cross purposes to the +general evolutional trend of the entire cosmos, are mere flashes in the +eventual course of cosmic evolution, comparing no more to eternity than +a split second does to a million years. + +"Taking these instances, then, as inconsequential, let us say that the +trend of cosmic evolution is downward rather than upward, from complex +units to simpler units rather than from simple units to more complex +ones. + +"Let us say that life and intelligence have degenerated. How would you +say such a degeneration would take place? In just what way would it be +manifested? What sort of transition would life pass through in passing +from one stage to a lower one? Just what would be the nature of these +stages?" + +The scientist's eyes glowed brightly as he bent forward in his chair. +The newspaperman said simply: "I have no idea." + +"Man," cried the old man, "can't you see that it would be a matter of +dimensions? From the fourth dimension to the third, from the third to +the second, from the second to the first, from the first to a +questionable existence or plane which is beyond our understanding or +perhaps to oblivion and the end of life. Might not the fourth have +evolved from a fifth, the fifth from a sixth, the sixth from a seventh, +and so on to no one knows what multidimension?" + + * * * * * + +Dr. White paused to allow the other man to grasp the importance of his +statements. Woods failed lamentably to do so. + +"But what has this to do with the Horror?" he asked. + +"Have you absolutely no imagination?" shouted the old man. + +"Why, I suppose I have, but I seem to fail to understand." + +"We are facing an invasion of fourth-dimensional creatures," the old man +whispered, almost as if fearful to speak the words aloud. "We are being +attacked by life which is one dimension above us in evolution. We are +fighting, I tell you, a tribe of hellhounds out of the cosmos. They are +unthinkably above us in the matter of intelligence. There is a chasm of +knowledge between us so wide and so deep that it staggers the +imagination. They regard us as mere animals, perhaps not even that. So +far as they are concerned we are just fodder, something to be eaten as +we eat vegetables and cereals or the flesh of domesticated animals. +Perhaps they have watched us for years, watching life on the world +increase, lapping their monstrous jowls over the fattening of the Earth. +They have awaited the proper setting of the banquet table and now they +are dining. + +"Their thoughts are not our thoughts, their ideals not our ideals. +Perhaps they have nothing in common with us except the primal basis of +all life, self-preservation, the necessity of feeding. + +"Maybe they have come of their own will. I prefer to believe that they +have. Perhaps they are merely following the natural course of events, +obeying some immutable law legislated by some higher being who watches +over the cosmos and dictates what shall be and what shall not be. If +this is true it means that there has been a flaw in my reasoning, for I +believed that the life of each plane degenerated in company with the +degeneration of its plane of existence, which would obey the same +evolutional laws which govern the life upon it. I am quite satisfied +that this invasion is a well-planned campaign, that some +fourth-dimensional race has found a means of breaking through the veil +of force which separates its plane from ours." + +"But," pointed out Henry Woods, "you say they are fourth-dimensional +things. I can't see anything about them to suggest an additional +dimension. They are plainly three-dimensional." + +"Of course they are three-dimensional. They would have to be to live in +this world of three dimensions. The only two-dimensional objects which +we know of in this world are merely illusions, projections of the third +dimension, like a shadow. It is impossible for more than one dimension +to live on any single plane. + +"To attack us they would have to lose one dimension. This they have +evidently done. You can see how utterly ridiculous it would be for you +to try to attack a two-dimensional thing. So far as you were concerned +it would have no mass. The same is true of the other dimensions. +Similarly a being of a lesser plane could not harm an inhabitant of a +higher plane. It is apparent that while the Horror has lost one material +dimension, it has retained certain fourth-dimensional properties which +make it invulnerable to the forces at the command of our plane." + +The newspaperman was now sitting on the edge of his chair. + +"But," he asked breathlessly, "it all sounds so hopeless. What can be +done about it?" + +Dr. White hitched his chair closer and his fingers closed with a fierce +grasp upon the other's knee. A militant boom came into his voice. + +"My boy," he said, "we are to strike back. We are going to invade the +fourth-dimensional plane of these hellhounds. We are going to make them +feel our strength. We are going to strike back." + +Henry Woods sprang to his feet. + +"How?" he shouted. "Have you...?" + +Dr. White nodded. + +"I have found a way to send the third-dimensional into the fourth. Come +and I will show you." + + * * * * * + +The machine was huge, but it had an appearance of simple construction. A +large rectangular block of what appeared to be a strange black metal was +set on end and flanked on each side by two smaller ones. On the top of +the large block was set a half-globe of a strange substance, somewhat, +Henry thought, like frosted glass. On one side of the large cube was set +a lever, a long glass panel, two vertical tubes and three clock-face +indicators. The control board, it appeared, was relatively simple. + +Beside the mass of the five rectangles, on the floor, was a large plate +of transparent substance, ground to a concave surface, through which one +could see an intricate tangle of wire mesh. + +Hanging from the ceiling, directly above the one on the floor, was +another concave disk, but this one had a far more pronounced curvature. + +Wires connected the two disks and each in turn was connected to the +rectangular machine. + +"It is a matter of the proper utilization of two forces, electrical and +gravitational," proudly explained Dr. White. "Those two forces, properly +used, warp the third-dimensional into the fourth. A reverse process is +used to return the object to the third. The principle of the machine +is--" + +The old man was about to launch into a lengthy discussion, but Henry +interrupted him. A glance at his watch had shown him press time was +drawing perilously close. + +"Just a second," he said. "You propose to warp a third-dimensional being +into a fourth dimension. How can a third-dimensional thing exist there? +You said a short time ago that only a specified dimension could exist on +one single plane." + +"You have missed my point," snapped Dr. White. "I am not sending a +third-dimensional thing to a fourth dimension. I am changing the +third-dimensional being into a fourth-dimensional being. I add a +dimension, and automatically the being exists on a different plane. I am +reversing evolution. This third dimension we now exist on evolved, +millions of eons ago, from a fourth dimension. I am sending a lesser +entity back over those millions of eons to a plane similar to one upon +which his ancestors lived inconceivably long ago." + +"But, man, how do you know you can do it?" + + * * * * * + +The doctor's eyes gleamed and his fingers reached out to press a bell. + +A servant appeared almost at once. + +"Bring me a dog," snapped the old man. The servant disappeared. + +"Young man," said Dr. White, "I am going to show you how I know I can do +it. I have done it before, now I am going to do it for you. I have sent +dogs and cats back to the fourth dimension and returned them safely to +this room. I can do the same with men." + +The servant reappeared, carrying in his arms a small dog. The doctor +stepped to the control board of his strange machine. + +"All right, George," he said. + +The servant had evidently worked with the old man enough to know what +was expected of him. He stepped close to the floor disk and waited. The +dog whined softly, sensing that all was not exactly right. + +The old scientist slowly shoved the lever toward the right, and as he +did so a faint hum filled the room, rising to a stupendous roar as he +advanced the lever. From both floor disk and upper disk leaped strange +cones of blue light, which met midway to form an hour-glass shape of +brilliance. + +The light did not waver or sparkle. It did not glow. It seemed hard and +brittle, like straight bars of force. The newspaperman, gazing with awe +upon it, felt that terrific force was there. What had the old man said? +Warp a third-dimensional being into another dimension! That would take +force! + +As he watched, petrified by the spectacle, the servant stepped forward +and, with a flip, tossed the little dog into the blue light. The animal +could be discerned for a moment through the light and then it +disappeared. + +"Look in the globe!" shouted the old man; and Henry jerked his eyes from +the column of light to the half-globe atop the machine. + +He gasped. In the globe, deep within its milky center, glowed a picture +that made his brain reel as he looked upon it. It was a scene such as no +man could have imagined unaided. It was a horribly distorted projection +of an eccentric landscape, a landscape hardly analogous to anything on +Earth. + + * * * * * + +"That's the fourth dimension, sir," said the servant. + +"That's not the fourth dimension," the old man corrected him. "That's a +third-dimensional impression of the fourth dimension. It is no more the +fourth dimension than a shadow is three-dimensional. It, like a shadow, +is merely a projection. It gives us a glimpse of what the fourth plane +is like. It is a shadow of that plane." + +Slowly a dark blotch began to grow in the landscape. Slowly it assumed +definite form. It puzzled the reporter. It looked familiar. He could +have sworn he had seen it somewhere before. It was alive, for it had +moved. + +"That, sir, is the dog," George volunteered. + +"That was the dog," Dr. White again corrected him. "God knows what it is +now." + +He turned to the newspaperman. + +"Have you seen enough?" he demanded. + +Henry nodded. + +The other slowly began to return the lever to its original position. +The roaring subsided, the light faded, the projection in the half-globe +grew fainter. + +"How are you going to use it?" asked the newspaperman. + +"I have ninety-eight men who have agreed to be projected into the fourth +dimension to seek out the entities that are attacking us and attack them +in turn. I shall send them out in an hour." + +"Where is there a phone?" asked the newspaperman. + +"In the next room," replied Dr. White. + +As the reporter dashed out of the door, the light faded entirely from +between the two disks and on the lower one a little dog crouched, +quivering, softly whimpering. + + * * * * * + +The old man stepped from the controls and approached the disk. He +scooped the little animal from where it lay into his arms and patted the +silky head. + +"Good dog," he murmured; and the creature snuggled close to him, +comforted, already forgetting that horrible place from which it had just +returned. + +"Is everything ready, George?" asked the old man. + +"Yes, sir," replied the servant. "The men are all ready, even anxious to +go. If you ask me, sir, they are a tough lot." + +"They are as brave a group of men as ever graced the Earth," replied the +scientist gently. "They are adventurers, every one of whom has faced +danger and will not shrink from it. They are born fighters. My one +regret is that I have not been able to secure more like them. A thousand +men such as they should be able to conquer any opponent. It was +impossible. The others were poor soft fools. They laughed in my face. +They thought I was an old fool--I, the man who alone stands between them +and utter destruction." + +His voice had risen to almost a scream, but it again sank to a normal +tone. + +"I may be sending ninety-eight brave men to instant death. I hope not." + +"You can always jerk them back, sir," suggested George. + +"Maybe I can, maybe not," murmured the old man. + +Henry Woods appeared in the doorway. + +"When do we start?" he asked. + +"We?" exclaimed the scientist. + +"Certainly, you don't believe you're going to leave me out of this. Why, +man, it's the greatest story of all time. I'm going as special war +correspondent." + +"They believed it? They are going to publish it?" cried the old man, +clutching at the newspaperman's sleeve. + +"Well, the editor was skeptical at first, but after I swore on all sorts +of oaths it was true, he ate it up. Maybe you think that story didn't +stop the presses!" + +"I didn't expect them to. I just took a chance. I thought they, too, +would laugh at me." + +"But when do we start?" persisted Henry. + +"You are really in earnest? You really want to go?" asked the old man, +unbelievingly. + +"I am going. Try to stop me." + +Dr. White glanced at his watch. + +"We will start in exactly thirty-four minutes," he said. + + * * * * * + +"Ten seconds to go." George, standing with watch in hand, spoke in a +precise manner, the very crispness of his words betraying the excitement +under which he labored. + +The blue light, hissing, drove from disk to disk; the room thundered +with the roar of the machine, before which stood Dr. White, his hand on +the lever, his eyes glued on the instruments before him. + +In a line stood the men who were to fling themselves into the light to +be warped into another dimension, there to seek out and fight an unknown +enemy. The line was headed by a tall man with hands like hams, with a +weather-beaten face and a wild mop of hair. Behind him stood a +belligerent little cockney. Henry Woods stood fifth in line. They were a +motley lot, adventurers every one of them, and some were obviously +afraid as they stood before that column of light, with only a few +seconds of the third dimension left to them. They had answered a weird +advertisement, and had but a limited idea of what they were about to do. +Grimly, though, they accepted it as a job, a bizarre job, but a job. +They faced it as they had faced other equally dangerous, but less +unusual, jobs. + +"Five seconds," snapped George. + +The lever was all the way over now. The half-globe showed, within its +milky interior, a hideously distorted landscape. The light had taken on +a hard, brittle appearance and its hiss had risen to a scream. The +machine thundered steadily with a suggestion of horrible power. + +"Time up!" + +The tall man stepped forward. His foot reached the disk; another step +and he was bathed in the light, a third and he glimmered momentarily, +then vanished. Close on his heels followed the little cockney. + +With his nerves at almost a snapping point, Henry moved on behind the +fourth man. He was horribly afraid, he wanted to break from the line and +run, it didn't matter where, any place to get away from that steady, +steely light in front of him. He had seen three men step into it, glow +for a second, and then disappear. A fourth man had placed his foot on +the disk. + +Cold sweat stood out on his brow. Like an automaton he placed one foot +on the disk. The fourth man had already disappeared. + +"Snap into it, pal," growled the man behind. + +Henry lifted the other foot, caught his toe on the edge of the disk and +stumbled headlong into the column of light. + +He was conscious of intense heat which was instantly followed by equally +intense cold. For a moment his body seemed to be under enormous +pressure, then it seemed to be expanding, flying apart, bursting, +exploding.... + + * * * * * + +He felt solid ground under his feet, and his eyes, snapping open, saw an +alien land. It was a land of somber color, with great gray moors, and +beetling black cliffs. There was something queer about it, an intangible +quality that baffled him. + +He looked about him, expecting to see his companions. He saw no one. He +was absolutely alone in that desolate brooding land. Something dreadful +had happened! Was he the only one to be safely transported from the +third dimension? Had some horrible accident occurred? Was he alone? + +Sudden panic seized him. If something had happened, if the others were +not here, might it not be possible that the machine would not be able to +bring him back to his own dimension? Was he doomed to remain marooned +forever in this terrible plane? + +He looked down at his body and gasped in dismay. It was not his body! + +It was a grotesque caricature of a body, a horrible profane mass of +flesh, like a phantasmagoric beast snatched from the dreams of a +lunatic. + +It was real, however. He felt it with his hands, but they were not +hands. They were something like hands; they served the same purpose +that hands served in the third dimension. He was, he realized, a being +of the fourth dimension, but in his fourth-dimensional brain still clung +hard-fighting remnants of that faithful old third-dimensional brain. He +could not, as yet, see with fourth-dimensional eyes, think purely +fourth-dimensional thoughts. He had not oriented himself as yet to this +new plane of existence. He was seeing the fourth dimension through the +blurred lenses of millions of eons of third-dimensional existence. He +was seeing it much more clearly than he had seen it in the half-globe +atop the machine in Dr. White's laboratory, but he would not see it +clearly until every vestige of the third dimension was wiped from him. +That, he knew, would come in time. + +He felt his weird body with those things that served as hands, and he +found, beneath his groping, unearthly fingers, great rolling muscles, +powerful tendons, and hard, well-conditioned flesh. A sense of +well-being surged through him and he growled like an animal, like an +animal of that horrible fourth plane. + +But the terrible sounds that came from between his slobbering lips were +not those of his own voice, they were the voices of many men. + + * * * * * + +Then he knew. He was not alone. Here, in this one body were the bodies, +the brains, the power, the spirit, of those other ninety-eight men. In +the fourth dimension, all the millions of third-dimensional things were +one. Perhaps that particular portion of the third dimension called the +Earth had sprung from, or degenerated from, one single unit of a +dissolving, worn-out fourth dimension. The third dimension, warped back +to a higher plane, was automatically obeying the mystic laws of +evolution by reforming in the shape of that old ancestor, unimaginably +removed in time from the race he had begot. He was no longer Henry +Woods, newspaperman; he was an entity that had given birth, in the dim +ages when the Earth was born, to a third dimension. Nor was he alone. +This body of his was composed of other sons of that ancient entity. + +He felt himself grow, felt his body grow vaster, assume greater +proportions, felt new vitality flow through him. It was the other men, +the men who were flinging themselves into the column of light in the +laboratory to be warped back to this plane, to be incorporated in his +body. + +It was not his body, however. His brain was not his alone. The pronoun, +he realized, represented the sum total of those other men, his fellow +adventurers. + +Suddenly a new feeling came, a feeling of completeness, a feeling of +supreme fitness. He knew that the last of the ninety-eight men had +stepped across the disk, that all were here in this giant body. + +Now he could see more clearly. Things in the landscape, which had +escaped him before, became recognizable. Awful thoughts ran through his +brain, heavy, ponderous, black thoughts. He began to recognize the +landscape as something familiar, something he had seen before, a thing +with which he was intimate. Phenomena, which his third-dimensional +intelligence would have gasped at, became commonplace. He was finally +seeing through fourth-dimensional eyes, thinking fourth-dimensional +thoughts. + +Memory seeped into his brain and he had fleeting visions, visions of +dark caverns lit by hellish flames, of huge seas that battered +remorselessly with mile-high waves against towering headlands that +reared titanic toward a glowering sky. He remembered a red desert +scattered with scarlet boulders, he remembered silver cliffs of +gleaming metallic stone. Through all his thoughts ran something else, a +scarlet thread of hate, an all-consuming passion, a fierce lust after +the life of some other entity. + +He was no longer a composite thing built of third-dimensional beings. He +was a creature of another plane, a creature with a consuming hate, and +suddenly he knew against whom this hate was directed and why. He knew +also that this creature was near and his great fists closed and then +spread wide as he knew it. How did he know it? Perhaps through some +sense which he, as a being of another plane, held, but which was alien +to the Earth. Later, he asked himself this question. At the time, +however, there was no questioning on his part. He only knew that +somewhere near was a hated enemy and he did not question the source of +his knowledge.... + + * * * * * + +Mumbling in an idiom incomprehensible to a third-dimensional being, +filled with rage that wove redly through his brain, he lumbered down the +hill onto the moor, his great strides eating up the distance, his +footsteps shaking the ground. + +At the foot of the hill he halted and from his throat issued a +challenging roar that made the very crags surrounding the moor tremble. +The rocks flung back the roar as if in mockery. + +Again he shouted and in the shout he framed a lurid insult to the enemy +that lurked there in the cliffs. + +Again the crags flung back the insult, but this time the echoes, booming +over the moor, were drowned by another voice, the voice of the enemy. + +At the far end of the moor appeared a gigantic form, a form that +shambled on grotesque, misshapen feet, growling angrily as he came. + +He came rapidly despite his clumsy gait, and as he came he mouthed +terrific threats. + +Close to the other he halted and only then did recognition dawn in his +eyes. + +"_You, Mal Shaff?_" he growled in his guttural tongue, and surprise and +consternation were written large upon his ugly face. + +"Yes, it is I, Mal Shaff," boomed the other. "Remember, Ouglat, the day +you destroyed me and my plane. I have returned to wreak my vengeance. I +have solved a mystery you have never guessed and I have come back. You +did not imagine you were attacking me again when you sent your minions +to that other plane to feed upon the beings there. It was I you were +attacking, fool, and I am here to kill you." + +Ouglat leaped and the thing that had been Henry Woods, newspaperman, and +ninety-eight other men, but was now Mal Shaff of the fourth dimension, +leaped to meet him. + +Mal Shaff felt the force of Ouglat, felt the sharp pain of a hammering +fist, and lashed out with those horrible arms of his to smash at the +leering face of his antagonist. He felt his fists strike solid flesh, +felt the bones creak and tremble beneath his blow. + +His nostrils were filled with the terrible stench of the other's foul +breath and his filthy body. He teetered on his gnarled legs and +side-stepped a vicious kick and then stepped in to gouge with +straightened thumb at the other's eye. The thumb went true and Ouglat +howled in pain. + +Mal Shaff leaped back as his opponent charged head down, and his knotted +fist beat a thunderous tattoo as the misshapen beast closed in. He felt +clawing fingers seeking his throat, felt ghastly nails ripping at his +shoulders. In desperation he struck blindly, and Ouglat reeled away. +With a quick stride he shortened the distance between them and struck +Ouglat a hard blow squarely on his slavering mouth. Pressing hard upon +the reeling figure, he swung his fists like sledge-hammers, and Ouglat +stumbled, falling in a heap on the sand. + +Mal Shaff leaped upon the fallen foe and kicked him with his taloned +feet, ripping him wickedly. There was no thought of fair play, no +faintest glimmer of mercy. This was a battle to the death: there could +be no quarter. + + * * * * * + +The fallen monster howled, but his voice cut short as his foul mouth, +with its razor-edged fangs, closed on the other's body. His talons, +seeking a hold, clawed deep. + +Mal Shaff, his brain a screaming maelstrom of weird emotions, aimed +pile-driver blows at the enemy, clawed and ripped. Together the two +rolled, locked tight in titanic battle, on the sandy plain and a great +cloud of heavy dust marked where they struggled. + +In desperation Ouglat put every ounce of his strength into a heave that +broke the other's grip and flung him away. + +The two monstrosities surged to their feet, their eyes red with hate, +glaring through the dust cloud at one another. + +Slowly Ouglat's hand stole to a black, wicked cylinder that hung on a +belt at his waist. His fingers closed upon it and he drew the weapon. As +he leveled it at Mal Shaff, his lips curled back and his features +distorted into something that was not pleasant to see. + +Mal Shaff, with doubled fists, saw the great thumb of his enemy slowly +depressing a button on the cylinder, and a great fear held him rooted +in his tracks. In the back of his brain something was vainly trying to +explain to him the horror of this thing which the other held. + +Then a multicolored spiral, like a corkscrew column of vapor, sprang +from the cylinder and flashed toward him. It struck him full on the +chest and even as it did so he caught the ugly fire of triumph in the +red eyes of his enemy. + +He felt a stinging sensation where the spiral struck, but that was all. +He was astounded. He had feared this weapon, had been sure it portended +some form of horrible death. But all it did was to produce a slight +sting. + +For a split second he stood stock-still, then he surged forward and +advanced upon Ouglat, his hands outspread like claws. From his throat +came those horrible sounds, the speech of the fourth dimension. + +"Did I not tell you, foul son of Sargouthe, that I had solved a mystery +you have never guessed at? Although you destroyed me long ago, I have +returned. Throw away your puny weapon. I am of the lower dimension and +am invulnerable to your engines of destruction. You bloated...." His +words trailed off into a stream of vileness that could never have +occurred to a third-dimensional mind. + +Ouglat, with every line of his face distorted with fear, flung the +weapon from him, and turning, fled clumsily down the moor, with Mal +Shaff at his heels. + + * * * * * + +Steadily Mal Shaff gained and with only a few feet separating him from +Ouglat, he dived with outspread arms at the other's legs. + +The two came down together, but Mal Shaff's grip was broken by the fall +and the two regained their feet at almost the same instant. + +The wild moor resounded to their throaty roaring and the high cliffs +flung back the echoes of the bellowing of the two gladiators below. It +was sheer strength now and flesh and bone were bruised and broken under +the life-shaking blows that they dealt. Great furrows were plowed in the +sand by the sliding of heavy feet as the two fighters shifted to or away +from attack. Blood, blood of fourth-dimensional creatures, covered the +bodies of the two and stained the sand with its horrible hue. +Perspiration streamed from them and their breath came in gulping gasps. + +The lurid sun slid across the purple sky and still the two fought on. +Ouglat, one of the ancients, and Mal Shaff, reincarnated. It was a +battle of giants, a battle that must have beggared even the titanic +tilting of forgotten gods and entities in the ages when the +third-dimensional Earth was young. + +Mal Shaff had no conception of time. He may have fought seconds or +hours. It seemed an eternity. He had attempted to fight scientifically, +but had failed to do so. While one part of him had cried out to elude +his opponent, to wait for openings, to conserve his strength, another +part had shouted at him to step in and smash, smash, smash at the hated +monstrosity pitted against him. + +It seemed Ouglat was growing in size, had become more agile, that his +strength was greater. His punches hurt more; it was harder to hit him. + +Still Mal Shaff drilled in determinedly, head down, fists working like +pistons. As the other seemed to grow stronger and larger, he seemed to +become smaller and weaker. + +It was queer. Ouglat should be tired, too. His punches should be weaker. +He should move more slowly, be heavier on his feet. + +There was no doubt of it. Ouglat was growing larger, was drawing on +some mysterious reserve of strength. From somewhere new force and life +were flowing into his body. But from where was this strength coming? + +A huge fist smashed against Mal Shaff's jaw. He felt himself lifted, and +the next moment he skidded across the sand. + +Lying there, gasping for breath, almost too fagged to rise, with the +black bulk of the enemy looming through the dust cloud before him, he +suddenly realized the source of the other's renewed strength. + +Ouglat was recalling his minions from the third dimension! They were +incorporating in his body, returning to their parent body! + +They were coming back from the third dimension to the fourth dimension +to fight a third-dimensional thing reincarnated in the fourth-dimensional +form it had lost millions of eons ago! + +This was the end, thought Mal Shaff. But he staggered to his feet to +meet the charge of the ancient enemy and a grim song, a death chant +immeasurably old, suddenly and dimly remembered from out of the mists of +countless millenniums, was on his lips as he swung a pile-driver blow +into the suddenly astonished face of the rushing Ouglat.... + + * * * * * + +The milky globe atop the machine in Dr. White's laboratory glowed +softly, and within that glow two figures seemed to struggle. + +Before the machine, his hands still on the controls, stood Dr. Silas +White. Behind him the room was crowded with newspapermen and +photographers. + +Hours had passed since the ninety-eight men--ninety-nine, counting Henry +Woods--had stepped into the brittle column of light to be shunted back +through unguessed time to a different plane of existence. The old +scientist, during all those hours, had stood like a graven image before +his machine, eyes staring fixedly at the globe. + +Through the open windows he had heard the cry of the newsboy as the +_Press_ put the greatest scoop of all time on the street. The phone had +rung like mad and George answered it. The doorbell buzzed repeatedly and +George ushered in newspapermen who had asked innumerable questions, to +which he had replied briefly, almost mechanically. The reporters had +fought for the use of the one phone in the house and had finally drawn +lots for it. A few had raced out to use other phones. + +Photographers came and flashes popped and cameras clicked. The room was +in an uproar. On the rare occasions when the reporters were not using +the phone the instrument buzzed shrilly. Authoritative voices demanded +Dr. Silas White. George, his eyes on the old man, stated that Dr. Silas +White could not be disturbed, that he was busy. + +From the street below came the heavy-throated hum of thousands of +voices. The street was packed with a jostling crowd of awed humanity, +every eye fastened on the house of Dr. Silas White. Lines of police held +them back. + +"What makes them move so slowly?" asked a reporter, staring at the +globe. "They hardly seem to be moving. It looks like a slow motion +picture." + +"They are not moving slowly," replied Dr. White. "There must be a +difference in time in the fourth dimension. Maybe what is hours to us is +only seconds to them. Time must flow more slowly there. Perhaps it is a +bigger place than this third plane. That may account for it. They aren't +moving slowly, they are fighting savagely. It's a fight to the death! +Watch!" + + * * * * * + +The grotesque arm of one of the figures in the milky globe was moving +out slowly, loafing along, aimed at the head of the other. Slowly the +other twisted his body aside, but too slowly. The fist finally touched +the head, still moving slowly forward, the body following as slowly. The +head of the creature twisted, bent backward, and the body toppled back +in a leisurely manner. + +"What does White say?... Can't you get a statement of some sort from +him? Won't he talk at all? A hell of a fine reporter you are--can't even +get a man to open his mouth. Ask him about Henry Woods. Get a +human-interest slant on Woods walking into the light. Ask him how long +this is going to last. Damn it all, man, do something, and don't bother +me again until you have a real story--yes, I said a real story--are you +hard of hearing? For God's sake, do something!" + +The editor slammed the receiver on the hook. + +"Brooks," he snapped, "get the War Department at Washington. Ask them if +they're going to back up White. Go on, go on. Get busy.... How will you +get them? I don't know. Just get them, that's all. Get them!" + +Typewriters gibbered like chuckling morons through the roaring tumult of +the editorial rooms. Copy boys rushed about, white sheets clutched in +their grimy hands. Telephones jangled and strident voices blared through +the haze that arose from the pipes and cigarettes of perspiring writers +who feverishly transferred to paper the startling events that were +rocking the world. + +The editor, his necktie off, his shirt open, his sleeves rolled to the +elbow, drummed his fingers on the desk. It had been a hectic twenty-four +hours and he had stayed at the desk every minute of the time. He was +dead tired. When the moment of relaxation came, when the tension +snapped, he knew he would fall into an exhausted stupor of sleep, but +the excitement was keeping him on his feet. There was work to do. There +was news such as the world had never known before. Each new story meant +a new front make-up, another extra. Even now the presses were +thundering, even now papers with the ink hardly dry upon them were being +snatched by the avid public from the hands of screaming newsboys. + + * * * * * + +A man raced toward the city desk, waving a sheet of paper in his hand. +Sensing something unusual the others in the room crowded about as he +laid the sheet before the editor. + +"Just came in," the man gasped. + +The paper was a wire dispatch. It read: + + "Rome--The Black Horror is in full retreat. Although still + apparently immune to the weapons being used against it, it is + lifting the siege of this city. The cause is unknown." + +The editor ran his eye down the sheet. There was another dateline: + + "Madrid--The Black Horror, which has enclosed this city in a ring of + dark terror for the last two days, is fleeing, rapidly + disappearing...." + +The editor pressed a button. There was an answering buzz. + +"Composing room," he shouted, "get ready for a new front! Yes, another +extra. This will knock their eyes out!" + +A telephone jangled furiously. The editor seized it. + +"Yes. What was that?... White says he must have help. I see. Woods and +the others are weakening. Being badly beaten, eh?... More men needed to +go out to the other plane. Wants reinforcements. Yes. I see. Well, tell +him that he'll have them. If he can wait half an hour we'll have them +walking by thousands into that light. I'll be damned if we won't! Just +tell White to hang on! We'll have the whole nation coming to the +rescue!" + +He jabbed up the receiver. + +"Richards," he said, "write a streamer, 'Help Needed,' 'Reinforcements +Called'--something of that sort, you know. Make it scream. Tell the +foreman to dig out the biggest type he has. A foot high. If we ever +needed big type, we need it now!" + +He turned to the telephone. + +"Operator," he said, "get me the Secretary of War at Washington. The +secretary in person, you understand. No one else will do." + +He turned again to the reporters who stood about the desk. + +"In two hours," he explained, banging the desk top for emphasis, "we'll +have the United States Army marching into that light Woods walked into!" + + * * * * * + +The bloody sun was touching the edge of the weird world, seeming to +hesitate before taking the final plunge behind the towering black crags +that hung above the ink-pot shadows at their base. The purple sky had +darkened until it was almost the color of soft, black velvet. Great +stars were blazing out. + +Ouglat loomed large in the gathering twilight, a horrible misshapen ogre +of an outer world. He had grown taller, broader, greater. Mal Shaff's +head now was on a level with the other's chest; his huge arms seemed +toylike in comparison with those of Ouglat, his legs mere pipestems. + +Time and time again he had barely escaped as the clutching hands of +Ouglat reached out to grasp him. Once within those hands he would be +torn apart. + +The battle had become a game of hide and seek, a game of cat and mouse, +with Mal Shaff the mouse. + +Slowly the sun sank and the world became darker. His brain working +feverishly, Mal Shaff waited for the darkness. Adroitly he worked the +battle nearer and nearer to the Stygian darkness that lay at the foot of +the mighty crags. In the darkness he might escape. He could no longer +continue this unequal fight. Only escape was left. + +The sun was gone now. Blackness was dropping swiftly over the land, like +a great blanket, creating the illusion of the glowering sky descending +to the ground. Only a few feet away lay the total blackness under the +cliffs. + +Like a flash Mal Shaff darted into the blackness, was completely +swallowed in it. Roaring, Ouglat followed. + +His shoulders almost touching the great rock wall that shot straight up +hundreds of feet above him, Mal Shaff ran swiftly, fear lending speed to +his shivering legs. Behind him he heard the bellowing of his enemy. +Ouglat was searching for him, a hopeless search in that total darkness. +He would never find him. Mal Shaff felt sure. + +Fagged and out of breath, he dropped panting at the foot of the wall. +Blood pounded through his head and his strength seemed to be gone. He +lay still and stared out into the less dark moor that stretched before +him. + +For some time he lay there, resting. Aimlessly he looked out over the +moor, and then he suddenly noted, some distance to his right, a hill +rising from the moor. The hill was vaguely familiar. He remembered it +dimly as being of great importance. + +A sudden inexplicable restlessness filled him. Far behind him he heard +the enraged bellowing of Ouglat, but that he scarcely noticed. So long +as darkness lay upon the land he knew he was safe from his enemy. + +The hill had made him restless. He must reach the top. He could think of +no logical reason for doing so. Obviously he was safer here at the base +of the cliff, but a voice seemed to be calling, a friendly voice from +the hilltop. + + * * * * * + +He rose on aching legs and forged ahead. Every fiber of his being cried +out in protest, but resolutely he placed one foot ahead of the other, +walking mechanically. + +Opposite the hill he disregarded the strange call that pulsed down upon +him, long enough to rest his tortured body. He must build up his +strength for the climb. + +He realized that danger lay ahead. Once he quitted the blackness of the +cliff's base, Ouglat, even in the darkness that lay over the land, might +see him. That would be disastrous. Once over the top of the hill he +would be safe. + +Suddenly the landscape was bathed in light, a soft green radiance. One +moment it had been pitch dark, the next it was light, as if a giant +search-light had been snapped on. + +In terror, Mal Shaff looked for the source of the light. Just above the +horizon hung a great green orb, which moved up the ladder of the sky +even as he watched. + +A moon! A huge green satellite hurtling swiftly around this cursed +world! + +A great, overwhelming fear sat upon Mal Shaff and with a high, shrill +scream of anger he raced forward, forgetful of aching body and outraged +lungs. + +His scream was answered from far off, and out of the shadows of the +cliffs toward the far end of the moor a black figure hurled itself. +Ouglat was on the trail! + +Mal Shaff tore madly up the slope, topped the crest, and threw himself +flat on the ground, almost exhausted. + + * * * * * + +A queer feeling stole over him, a queer feeling of well-being. New +strength was flowing into him, the old thrill of battle was pounding +through his blood once more. + +Not only were queer things happening to his body, but also to his brain. +The world about him looked queer, held a sort of an intangible mystery +he could not understand. A half question formed in the back of his +brain. Who and what was he? Queer thoughts to be thinking! He was Mal +Shaff, but had he always been Mal Shaff? + +He remembered a brittle column of light, creatures with bodies unlike +his body, walking into it. He had been one of those creatures. There was +something about dimensions, about different planes, a plan for one plane +to attack another! + +He scrambled to his bowed legs and beat his great chest with mighty, +long-nailed hands. He flung back his head and from his throat broke a +sound to curdle the blood of even the bravest. + +On the moor below Ouglat heard the cry and answered it with one equally +ferocious. + +Mal Shaff took a step forward, then stopped stock-still. Through his +brain went a sharp command to return to the spot where he had stood, to +wait there until attacked. He stepped back, shifting his feet +impatiently. + +He was growing larger; every second fresh vitality was pouring into him. +Before his eyes danced a red curtain of hate and his tongue roared forth +a series of insulting challenges to the figure that was even now +approaching the foot of the hill. + +As Ouglat climbed the hill, the night became an insane bedlam. The +challenging roars beat like surf against the black cliffs. + +Ouglat's lips were flecked with foam, his red eyes were mere slits, his +mouth worked convulsively. + +They were only a few feet apart when Ouglat charged. + + * * * * * + +Mal Shaff was ready for him. There was no longer any difference in their +size and they met like the two forward walls of contending football +teams. + +Mal Shaff felt the soft throat of the other under his fingers and his +grip tightened. Maddened, Ouglat shot terrific blow after terrific blow +into Mal Shaff's body. + +Try as he might, however, he could not shake the other's grip. + +It was silent now. The night seemed brooding, watching the struggle on +the hilltop. + +Larger and larger grew Mal Shaff, until he overtopped Ouglat like a +giant. + +Then he loosened his grip and, as Ouglat tried to scuttle away, reached +down to grasp him by the nape of his neck. + +High above his head he lifted his enemy and dashed him to the ground. +With a leap he was on the prostrate figure, trampling it apart, smashing +it into the ground. With wild cries he stamped the earth, treading out +the last of Ouglat, the Black Horror. + +When no trace of the thing that had been Ouglat remained, he moved away +and viewed the trampled ground. + +Then, for the first time he noticed that the crest of the hill was +crowded with other monstrous figures. He glared at them, half in +surprise, half in anger. He had not noticed their silent approach. + +"It is Mal Shaff!" cried one. + +"Yes, I am Mal Shaff. What do you want?" + +"But, Mal Shaff, Ouglat destroyed you once long ago!" + +"And I, just now," replied Mal Shaff, "have destroyed Ouglat." + +The figures were silent, shifting uneasily. Then one stepped forward. + +"Mal Shaff," it said, "we thought you were dead. Apparently it was not +so. We welcome you to our land again. Ouglat, who once tried to kill you +and apparently failed, you have killed, which is right and proper. Come +and live with us again in peace. We welcome you." + +Mal Shaff bowed. + +Gone was all thought of the third dimension. Through Mal Shaff's mind +raced strange, haunting memories of a red desert scattered with scarlet +boulders, of silver cliffs of gleaming metallic stone, of huge seas +battering against towering headlands. There were other things, too. +Great palaces of shining jewels, and weird nights of inhuman joy where +hellish flames lit deep, black caverns. + +He bowed again. + +"I thank you, Bathazar," he said. + +Without a backward look he shambled down the hill with the others. + + * * * * * + +"Yes?" said the editor. "What's that you say? Doctor White is dead! A +suicide! Yeah, I understand. Worry, hey! Here, Roberts, take this +story." + +He handed over the phone. + +"When you write it," he said, "play up the fact he was worried about not +being able to bring the men back to the third dimension. Give him plenty +of praise for ending the Black Horror. It's a big story." + +"Sure," said Roberts, then spoke into the phone: "All right, Bill, shoot +the works." + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _Astounding Stories_ June 1932. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and + typographical errors have been corrected without note. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Hellhounds of the Cosmos, by Clifford Donald Simak + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HELLHOUNDS OF THE COSMOS *** + +***** This file should be named 27013.txt or 27013.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/0/1/27013/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://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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