diff options
Diffstat (limited to '29965.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 29965.txt | 7299 |
1 files changed, 7299 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/29965.txt b/29965.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6449efe --- /dev/null +++ b/29965.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7299 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Two Thousand Miles Below, by Charles Willard Diffin + +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: Two Thousand Miles Below + +Author: Charles Willard Diffin + +Release Date: September 12, 2009 [EBook #29965] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO THOUSAND MILES BELOW *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from Astounding Stories June, September, + November 1932, January 1933. Extensive research did not uncover + any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. + + The Table of Contents is not part of the original magazines. + + + + Two Thousand Miles Below + + _A Four-Part Novel_ + + + + By Charles Willard Diffin + + * * * * * + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER + PROLOGUE + I A Man Named Smith + II Gold! + III Red Drops + IV The Light in the Crater + V The Attack + VI Into the Crater + VII The Ring + VIII The Darkness + IX A Subterranean World + X Plumb Loco + XI The White-Hot Pit + XII Dreams + XIII "N-73 Clear!" + XIV Emergency Order + XV The Lake of Fire + XVI The Metal Shell + XVII Gor + XVIII The Dance of Death + XIX The Voice of the Mountain + XX Taloned Hands + XXI Suicide? + XXII The Red-Flowering Vine + XXIII Oro and Grah + XXIV The Bargain + XXV Smithy + XXVI Power! + + * * * * * + + + + +PROLOGUE + +[Sidenote: Rawson learns to his cost that the life-spark of a fabled +race glows in the black heart of a dead, Western volcano.] + +[Illustration: _The derrick was falling as he fired again._] + + +In the gray darkness the curved fangs of a saber-toothed tiger gleamed +white and ghostly. The man-figure that stood half crouched in the +mouth of the cave involuntarily shivered. + +"Gwanga!" he said. "He goes, too!" + +But the man did not move more than to shift a club to his right hand. +Heavy, that club, and knotted and with a head of stone tied and +wrapped with leather thongs; but Gor of the tribe of Zoran swung it +easily with one of his long arms. He paid only casual attention as the +great cat passed on into the night. + +One leathery hand was raised to shield his slitted eyes; the wind from +the north struck toward the mouth of the cave, and it brought with it +cold driving rain and whirling flurries of frozen pellets that bit and +stung. + +Snow! Gor had traveled far, but never had he seen a storm like this +with white cold in the air. Again a shiver that was part fear rippled +through his muscles and gripped with invisible fingers at his knotted +arms. + +"The Beast of the North is angry!" he told himself. + +Through the dark and storm, animals drifted past before the blasts of +cold. They were fleeing; they were full of fear--fear of something +that the dull mind of Gor could not picture. But in that mind was the +same wordless panic. + +Gor, the man-animal of that pre-glacial day, stared wondering, +stupidly, into the storm with eyes like those of the wild pig. His +arms were long, almost to his knees; his hair, coarse and matted, hung +in greasy locks about his savage face. Behind his low, retreating +forehead was place for little of thought or reason. Yet Gor was a man, +and he met the threat of disaster by something better than blind, +terrified, animal flight. + +A scant hundred in the tribe--men and women and little pot-bellied +brown children--Gor gathered them together in the cave far back from +the mouth. + +"For many moons," he told them by words and signs, "the fear has been +upon us. There have been signs for us to see and for all the +Four-feet--for Hathor, the great, and for little Wahti in his hole in +the sand-hill. Hathor has swung his long snout above his curved tusks +and has cried his fear, and the Eaters of the Dead have circled above +him and cried _their_ cry. + +"And now the Sun-god does not warm us. He has gone to hide behind the +clouds. He is afraid--afraid of the cold monster that blows white +stinging things in his breath. + +"The Sun-god is gone--now, when he should be making hot summer! The +Four-feet are going. Even Gwanga, the long-toothed, puts his tail +between his legs and runs from the cold." + + * * * * * + +The naked bodies shivered in the chill that struck in from the +storm-wrapped world; they drew closer their coverings of fur and +hides. The light of their flickering fires played strange tricks with +their savage faces to make them still uglier and to show the dull +terror that gripped them. + +"Run--we must run--run away--the breath of the beast is on us--he +follows close--run...." Through the mutterings and growls a sick child +whimpered once, then was still. Gor was speaking again: + +"Run! Run away!" he mocked them. "And where shall the tribe of Zoran +go? With Gwanga, to make food for his cat belly or to be hammered to +death with the stones of the great tribes of the south?" + +There was none to reply--only a despairing moan from ugly lips. Gor +waited, then answered his own question. + +"No!" he shouted, and beat upon his hairy chest that was round as the +trunk of a tree. "Gor will save you--Gor, the wanderer! You named me +well: my feet have traveled far. Beyond the red-topped mountains of +the north I have gone; I have seen the tribes of the south, and I +brought you a head for proof. I have followed the sun, and I have gone +where it rises." + +In the half light, coarse strands of hair waved as hideous heads were +nodded in confirmation of the boast, though many still drooped +despairingly. + +"If Gor leads, where will he go?" a voice demanded. + +Another growled: "Gor's feet have gone far: where have they gone where +the Beast cannot follow our scent?" + +"Down!" said Gor with unconscious dramatic effect, and he pointed at +the rocky floor of the cave. "I have gone where even the Beast of the +North cannot go. The caves back of this you have seen, but only Gor +has seen the hole--the hole where a strong man can climb down; a hole +too small for the great beast to get through. Gor has gone down to +find more caves below and more caves below them. + +"Far down is a place where it is always warm. There is water in lakes +and streams. Gor has caught fish in that water, and they were good. +There are growing things like the round earth-plants that come in the +night, and they, too, were good. + +"Will you follow Gor?" he demanded. "And when the Beast is gone and +the Sun-god comes back we will return--" + + * * * * * + +The blast that found its way inside the cave furnished its own answer; +the echoing, "We follow! We follow!" spoken through chattering teeth +was not needed. The women of the tribe shivered more from the cold +than from fear as they gathered together their belongings, their furs +and hides and crude stone implements; and the shambling man-shape, +called Gor, led them to the hole down which a strong man might climb, +led them down and still down.... + +But, as to the rest--Gor's promise of safe return to the light of day +and that outer world where the Sun-god shone--how was Gor to know that +a mighty glacier would lock the whole land in ice for endless years, +and, retreating, leave their upper caves filled and buried under a +valley heaped with granite rocks? + +Even had the way been open to the land above, Gor himself could never +have known when that ice-sheet left. For when that day came and once +more the Sun-god drew steamy spirals from the drenched and thawing +ground, Gor, deep down in the earth, had been dead for countless +years. Only the remote descendants of that earlier tribe now lived in +their subterranean home, though even with them there were some who +spoke at times of those legends of another world which their ancestors +had left. + +And through the long centuries, while evolution worked its slow +changes, they knew nothing of the vanishing ice, of the sun and the +gushing waters, the grass and forests that came to cover the earth. +Nor did their descendants, exploring interminable caves, learning to +tame the internal fires, always evolving, always growing, have any +remote conception of a people who sailed strange seas to find new +lands and live and multiply and build up a country of sky-reaching +cities and peaceful farmlands, of sunlit valleys and hills. + +But always there were adventurous souls who made their way deeper and +deeper into the earth; and among them in every generation was one +named Gor who was taught the tribal legends and who led the +adventurers on. But legends have a trick of changing, and instead of +searching upward, it was through the deeper strata that they made +their slow way in their search for a mystic god and the land of their +fathers' fathers.... + + + + +CHAPTER I + +_A Man Named Smith_ + + +Heat! Heat of a white-hot sun only two hours old. Heat of blazing +sands where shimmering, gassy waves made the sparse sagebrush seem +about to burst into flames. Heat of a wind that might have come out of +the fire-box of a Mogul on an upgrade pull. + +A highway twisted among black masses of outcropping lava rock or +tightened into a straightaway for miles across the desert that swept +up to the mountain's base. The asphalt surface of the pavement was +almost liquid; it clung stickily to the tires of a big car, letting go +with a continuous, ripping sound. + +Behind the wheel of the weatherbeaten, sunburned car, Dean Rawson +squinted his eyes against the glare. His lean, tanned face was almost +as brown as his hair. The sun had done its work there; it had set +crinkly lines about the man's eyes of darker brown. But the deeper +lines in that young face had been etched by responsibility; they made +the man seem older than his twenty-three years, until the steady eyes, +flashing into quick amusement, gave them the lie. + +And now Rawson's lips twisted into a little grin at his own +discomfort--but he knew the desert driver's trick. + +"A hundred plus in the shade," he reasoned silently. "That's hot any +way you take it. But taking it in the face at forty-five an hour is +too much like looking into a Bessemer converter!" + +He closed the windows of his old coupe to within an inch of the top, +then opened the windshield a scant half inch. The blast that had been +drawing the moisture from his body became a gently circulating current +of hot air. + +He had gone only another ten miles after these preparations for fast +driving, when he eased the big weatherbeaten car to a stop. + + * * * * * + +On his right, reaching up to the cool heights under a cloudless blue +sky, the gray peaks of the Sierras gave promise of relief from the +furnace breath of the desert floor. There were even valleys of snow +glistening whitely where the mountains held them high. A watcher, had +there been one to observe in the empty land, might have understood +another traveler's pausing to admire the serene majesty of those +heights--but he would have wondered could he have seen Rawson's eyes +turned in longing away from the mountains while he stared across the +forbidding sands. + +There were other mountains, lavender and gray, in the distance. And +nearer by, a matter of twenty or thirty elusive miles through the +dancing waves of hot air, were other barren slopes. Across the rolling +sand-hills wheel marks, faint and wind-blown, led straight from the +highway toward the parched peaks. + +"Tonah Basin!" Rawson was thinking. "It's there inside these hills. +It's hotter than this is by twenty degrees right this minute--but I +wish I could see it. I'd like to have one more look before I face that +hard-boiled bunch in the city!" + +He looked at his watch and shook his head. "Not a chance," he +admitted. "I'm due up in Erickson's office in five hours. I wonder if +I've got a chance with them...." + + * * * * * + +Five hours of driving, and Rawson walked into the office of Erickson, +Incorporated, with a steady step. Another hour, and his tanned face +had gone a trifle pale; his lips were set grimly in a straight line +that would not relax under the verdict he felt certain he was about to +hear. + +For an hour he had faced the steely-eyed man across the long table in +the Directors Room--faced him and replied to questions from this man +and the half-dozen others seated there. Skeptical questions, tricky +questions; and now the man was speaking: + +"Rawson, six months ago you laid your Tonah Basin plans before +us--plans to get power from the center of the Earth, to utilize that +energy, and to control the power situation in this whole Southwest. +It looked like a wild gamble then, but we investigated. It still looks +like a gamble." + +"Yes," said Rawson, "it is a gamble. Did I ever call it anything +else?" + +"The Ehrmann oscillator," the man continued imperturbably, "invented +in 1940, two years ago, solves the wireless transmission problem, but +the success of your plan depends upon your own invention--upon your +straight-line drills that you say will not wander off at a tangent +when they get down a few miles. And more than that, it depends upon +you. + +"Even that does not damn the scheme; but, Rawson, there's only one +factor we gamble on. No wild plans, no matter how many hundreds of +millions they promise: no machines, no matter what they are designed +to do, get a dollar of our backing. It's men we back with our money!" + +Rawson's face was set to show no emotion, but within his mind were +insistent, clamoring thoughts: + +"Why can't he say it and get it over with? I've lost--what a +hard-boiled bunch they are!--but he doesn't need to drag out the +agony." But--but what was the man saying? + +"Men, Rawson!" the emotionless voice continued. "And we've checked up +on you from the time you took your nourishment out of a bottle; it's +you we're backing. That's why we have organized the little company of +Thermal Explorations, Limited. That's why we've put a million of hard +coin into it. That's why we've put you in charge of operations." + +He was extending a hand that Dean Rawson had to reach for blindly. + +"I'd drill through to hell," Dean said and fought to keep his voice +steady, "with backing like that!" + +He allowed his emotion to express itself in a shaky laugh. "Perhaps I +will at that," he added: "I'll certainly be heading in the right +direction." + + * * * * * + +Under another day's sun the hot asphalt was again taking the print of +the tires of Rawson's old car. But this time, when he came to the +almost obliterated marks that led through the sand toward distant +mountains, he stopped, partially deflated the tires to give them a +grip on the sand, and swung off. + +"A fool, kid trick," he admitted to himself, "but I want to see the +place. I'll see plenty of it before I'm through, but right now I've +got to have a look; then I'll buckle down to work. + +"Thermal Explorations, Limited!" The name rang triumphantly in his +mind. "A million things to do--men, crews for the drills, derricks.... +We'll have to truck in over this road; I'll lay a plank road over the +sand. And water--we'll have to haul that, too, until we can sink a +well. We'll find water under there somewhere. I've got to see the +place...." + +The black sides of the mountains were nearer: every outcropping rock +was plainly volcanic, and great sweeping slopes were beds of ash and +pumice; the wheel marks, where they showed at all, wound off and into +a canyon hidden in the tremendous hills that thrust themselves +abruptly from the desert floor. + +The mountains themselves towered hugely at closer range, but the road +that Rawson followed climbed through them without traversing the +highest slopes. It was scarcely more than a trail, barely wide enough +for the car at times, but boulder-filled gullies showed where the +hands of men had worked to build it. + + * * * * * + +He came at last into the open where a shoulder of rock bent the road +outward above a sea of sand far below. And now the mountains showed +their circular arrangement--a great ring, twenty miles across. At one +side were three conical peaks, unmistakable craters, whose scarred +sides were smothered under ash and sand that had rained down from +their shattered tops in ages past. Yet, so hot they were, so clear-cut +the irregularly rimmed cups at their tops, that they seemed to have +pushed themselves up through the earth in that very instant. At their +bases were signs of human habitation--broken walls, scattered stone +buildings whose empty windows gaped blackly. This was all that +remained of New Rhyolite. + +Rawson looked at the "ghost town" which had never failed to interest +him, but he gave no thought now to the hardy prospectors who had built +it or to the vein of gold that had failed them. His searching eyes +came back to the fiery pit, the Tonah Basin, a vast cauldron of sand +and ash--great sweeps of yellow and gray and darker brown into which +the sun was pouring its rays with burning-glass fierceness. + +But to Rawson, there was more than the eye could see. He was picturing +a great powerhouse, steel derricks, capped pipes that led off to +whirring turbines, generators, strings of cables stretching out on +steel supports into the distance, a wireless transmitter--and all of +this the result of his own vision, of the stream he would bring from +deep in the earth! + +Then, abruptly, the pictures faded. Far below him on the yellow, +sun-blasted floor, a fleck of shadow had moved. It appeared suddenly +from the sand, moved erratically, staggeringly, for a hundred feet, +then vanished as if something had blotted it out--and Dean Rawson +knew that it was the shadow of a man. + + * * * * * + +The road widened beyond the turn. He had intended to swing around; he +had wanted only to take a clear picture of the place with him. But now +the big car's gears wailed as he took the downgrade in second, and the +brakes, jammed on at the sharp curves, added their voice to the chorus +of haste. + +"Confounded desert rats!" Rawson was saying under his breath. "They'll +chance anything--but imagine crossing country like that! And he hasn't +a burro--he's got only the water he can carry in a canteen!" + +But even the canteen was empty, he found, when he stopped the car in a +whirl of loose sand beside a prone figure whose khaki clothes were +almost indistinguishable against the desert soil. + +Before Rawson could get his own lanky six feet of wiry length from the +car, the man had struggled to his feet. Again the little blot of +shadow began its wavering, uncertain, forward movement. + +He was a little shorter than Rawson, a little heavier of build, and +younger by a year or two, although his flushed face and a two days' +stubble of black beard might have been misleading. Rawson caught the +staggering man and half carried him to the shadow of the car, the only +shelter in that whole vast cauldron of the sun. + +From a mouth where a swollen tongue protruded thickly came an agonized +sound that was a cry for, "Water--water!" Rawson gave it to him as +rapidly as he dared, until he allowed the man to drink from the desert +bag at the last. And his keen eyes were taking in all the significant +details as he worked. + +The khaki clothes earned a nod of silent approval. The compact roll +that had been slung from the younger man's shoulders, even the broad +shoulders themselves, and the square jaw, unshaved and grimy, got +Rawson's inaudible, "O. K.!" But the face was more burned than tanned. + + * * * * * + +He introduced himself when the stranger was able to stand. "I'm +Rawson, Dean Rawson, mining engineer when I'm working at it," he +explained. "I'm bound north. I'll take you out of this. You can travel +with me as far as you please." + +The dark-haired youngster was plainly youthful now, as he stood erect. +His voice was recovering what must have been its usual hearty ring. + +"I'm not trying to say 'thank you,'" he said, as he took Rawson's +hand. "I was sure sunk--going down for the last time--taps--all that +sort of thing! You pulled me out--the good old helping hand. Can't +thank a fellow for that--just return the favor or pass it on to +someone else. And, by the way--you won't believe it--but my name is +Smith." + +Rawson smiled good-naturedly. "No," he agreed, "I don't believe it. +But it's a good, handy name. All right, Smithy, jump in! Here, let me +give you a lift; you're still woozy." + +Rawson found his passenger uncommunicative. Not but what Smithy talked +freely of everything but himself, but it was of himself that Rawson +wanted to know. + +"Drop me at the first town," said Smithy. "You're going north: I'm +south-bound--looking for a job down in Los. I won't take any more +short cuts; I was two days on this last one. I'll stick to the road." + +They were through the mountains that ringed in the fiery pit of Tonah +Basin. Smooth sand lay ahead; only the shallow marks that his own +tires had ploughed needed to be followed. Dean Rawson turned and +looked with fair appraisal at the man he had saved. + +"Drifter?" he asked himself silently. "Road bum? He doesn't look the +part; there's something about him...." + +Aloud he inquired: "What's your line? What do you know?" + +And the young man answered frankly: "Not a thing!" + + * * * * * + +Dean sensed failure, inefficiency. He resented it in this youngster +who had fought so gamely with death. His voice was harsh with a +curious sense of his own disappointment as he asked: + +"Found the going too hard for you up north, did you? Well, it won't be +any easier--" But Smithy had interrupted with a weak movement of his +hand. + +"Not too hard," he said laconically; "too damn soft! I don't know what +I'm looking for--pretty dumb: got a lot to learn!--but it'll be a job +that needs to take a good licking!" + +"'Too damn soft!'" Dean was thinking. "And he tackled the desert +alone!" There was a lot here he did not understand. But the look in +the eyes of Smithy that met his own searching gaze and returned it +squarely if a bit whimsically--that was something he _could_ +understand. Dean Rawson was a judge of men. The sudden impulse that +moved him was founded upon certainty. + +"You've found that job," he said. "The desert almost got you a little +while ago--now it's due to take that licking you were talking about. +I'm going to teach it to lie down and roll over and jump through +hoops. Fact is, my job is to get it into harness and put it to work. +I'll be working right out there in the Basin where I found you. It +will be only about two degrees cooler than hell. If that sounds good +to you, Smithy, stick around." + +He warmed oddly to the look in the younger man's deep-set, dark eyes, +as Smithy replied: + +"Try to put me out, Rawson--just try to put me out!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +_Gold!_ + + "Ten miles down, drillers! + Hell-bound, and proud of it! + Ten miles down, drillers! + Hark to what I say: + You're pokin' through the crust of hell + And braggin' too damn loud of it, + For, when you get to hell, you'll find + The devil there to pay." + + +From the black, night-wrapped valley, far below, the singer's voice +went silent with the slamming of a door in one of the bunkhouses. The +song was popular; some rimester in the Tonah Basin camp had written +the parody for the tormenting of the drill crews. And, high on the +mountainside, Dean Rawson hummed a few bars of the lilting air after +the singer's voice had ceased. + +"Ten miles down!" he said at last to his assistant, sprawled out on +the stone beside him. "That's about right, Smithy. And maybe the rest +of the doggerel isn't so far off either. 'Pokin' through the crust of +hell'--well, there was hell popping around here once, and I am +gambling that the furnaces aren't all out." + +They were on the outthrust shoulder of rock where the mountain road +hung high above the valley floor. Below, where, months before, Rawson +had rescued a man from desert death, was blackness punctured by points +of light--bunkhouse windows, the drilling-floor lights at the foot of +a big derrick, a single warning light at the derrick's top. But the +buildings and the towering steelwork of the derrick that handled the +rotary drills were dim and ghostly in the light of the stars. + +"We've gone through some places I'd call plenty warm," said Smithy, +"but you--you craves it _hot_! Think we're about due?" he asked. + +Rawson answered indirectly. + +"One great big old he-crater!" he said. His outstretched arm swept the +whole circle of starlit mountains that enclosed the Basin. "That's +what this was once. Twenty miles across--and when it blew its head off +it must have sprayed this whole Southwest. + +"Now, those craters"--he pointed contemptuously toward the three +conical peaks off to the right--"those were just blow-holes on the +side of this big one." + + * * * * * + +In the ragged ring of mountains, the throat of some volcanic monster +of an earlier age, the three cones towered hugely. Their tops were +plainly cupped; their ashy sloping sides swept down to the desert +floor. At their base, the gray walls of stone in the ghost town of +Little Rhyolite gleamed palely, like skeleton remains. + +"I've seen steam, live steam," Rawson went on, "coming out of a +fissure in the rocks. I know there's heat and plenty of it down below. +We're about due to hit it. The boys are pulling the drill now; they +cut through into a whale of a cave down below there--" + +He broke off abruptly to fix his attention on the dark valley below, +where lights were moving. One white slash of brilliance cut across the +dark ground; another, then a cluster of flood lights blazed out. They +picked the skeleton framework of the giant derrick in black relief +against the white glare of the sand. From far below; through the +quiet air, came sounds of excited shouting; the voices of men were +raised in sudden clamor. + +"They've pulled the drill," said Rawson. "But why all the excitement?" + +He had already turned toward their car when the crackle of six quick +shots came from below. His abrupt command was not needed; Smithy was +in the car while still the echoes were rolling off among the hills. +Their own lights flashed on to show the mountain grade waiting for +their quick descent. + + * * * * * + +The sandy floor of this part of the Tonah Basin was littered with the +orderly disorder of a big construction job--mountains of casing, +tubular drill rod, a foot in diameter; segmental bearings to clamp +around the rod every hundred feet and give it smooth play. Dean drove +his car swiftly along the surfaced road that was known as "Main +Street" to the entire camp. + +There were men running toward the derrick--men of the day shift who +had been aroused from their sleep. Others were clustered about the +wide concrete floor where the derrick stood. Clad only in trousers and +shoes, their bodies, tanned by the desert sun, were almost black in +the glare of the big floods. They milled wildly about the derrick; +and, through all their clamor and shouting, one word was repeated +again and again: + +"Gold! Gold! Gold!" + +The big drill head was suspended above the floor. Dean Rawson, with +Smithy close at hand, pushed through the crowd. He was prepared to see +traces of gold in the sludge that was bailed out through the hollow +shaft--quartz, perhaps, whose richness had set the men wild before +they realized how impossible it would be to develop such a mine. But +Rawson stopped almost aghast at the glaring splendor of the golden +drill hanging naked in the blinding light. + + * * * * * + +Riley, foreman of the night shift, was standing beside it, a pistol in +his hand. "L'ave it be," he was commanding. "Not a hand do ye lay on +it till the boss gets here." At sight of Rawson he stepped forward. + +"I shot in the air," he explained. "I knew ye were up in the hills for +a breath of coolness. I wanted to get ye here quick." + +"Right," said Rawson tersely. "But, man, what have you done with the +drill? It's smeared over with gold!" + +"Fair clogged wid it, sir," Riley's voice betrayed his own excitement. +"You remimber we couldn't pull it at first--the drill was jammed-like +after it bruk through at the ten-mile livil. Then it come free--and +luk at it! Luk at the damn thing! Sent down for honest work, it was, +and it comes back all dressed up in jewelry like a squaw Indian whin +there's oil struck on the reservation! Or is it gold ye were after all +the time?" he demanded. + +"Gold! Gold!" a hundred voices were shouting. Dean hardly heard the +voice of the foreman, made suddenly garrulous with excitement. He +stared at the big drill head, heaped high with the precious metal. It +was jammed into the diamond-studded face of the drill; it filled every +crack and crevice, a smooth, solid mass on top of the head and against +the stem. A workman had brought a singlejack and chisel; he was prying +at a ribbon of the yellow stuff. Riley went for him, gun in hand. + +"L'ave it be!" he shouted. + +"But, confound it all, Dean," Smithy's voice was saying in a tone of +disgust, "I thought we were working on a power plant. Not that a gold +mine is so bad; but we can't work it--we can't go down after it at ten +miles." + +"Gold mine!" Rawson echoed. "I'll say it's a gold mine--but not +because of the gold. Do you notice anything peculiar about that, +Smithy?" + +His assistant replied with a quick exclamation: + +"You're right, Dean! I knew there was something haywire with that. +Solid chunk--been cast around that stem--melted on. And that means--" + +"Heat," said Rawson. "It means we've found what we're after. Give the +gold to the men; tell them we'll divide it evenly among them. There's +more down there, but there's something better: there's energy, power!" + +He snapped out quick orders. "Get the temperature. Drop a recording +pyrometer. Let me know at once. There'll be plenty doing now!" + + * * * * * + +Drill rods and cables, all were made of the newest aluminum alloy. The +long tube that held the pyrometer was formed of the same metal. Smithy +sent it down to get a recording of the temperatures of that +subterranean cave into which their tools had plunged. + +He adjusted the recording mechanism himself and stood beside the +twenty-inch casing that held back the loose sand from the big bore. +Then he watched ten sections of cable, each a mile in length, each +heavier than the last, as they went hissing into the earth. + +From the cable control shed the voice of Riley was calling the depth. + +"Fifty-two thousand." Then by hundreds until he cried: +"Fifty-two-seven. We're into the big cave! Now another hundred feet." + +The cable was moving slowly. In the middle of Riley's call of +"Fifty-two-eight," a jangling bell told that the bottom of the +pyrometer carrier had touched. + +"Up with it," Smithy ordered. "Make it snappy. We'll see if we've got +another cargo of gold." + +There was an undeniable thrill in this reaching to a tremendous +distance underground, this groping about in a deep-hidden cave, where +molten gold was to be found. What had they tapped?--he asked himself. +He saw visions of some vast pool of hot, liquid gold. Perhaps Dean +would have to change his plans. They could rig up some kind of a +bailer; they could bring out thousands of dollars at a time. + +He was watching for the first sight of the metal carrier, far more +interested in what might be clinging to it than in the record of the +pyrometer it held. He saw it emerge--then he stared in disbelief at +the stubby mass at the cable's end, where all that remained of the +long tube he had sent down was a dangling two feet of discolored +metal, warped and distorted. The lower part, a full twenty feet in +length, had been fused cleanly off. + +Dean Rawson was there to watch the next attempt. Again Riley's roaring +bass rolled out the count, but this time the call stopped at +fifty-two-seven. The jangling bell told that the carrier had touched. + +"Divil a bit do I understand this," Riley was calling. "We're right at +the point where we dropped through into the clear. Right at the roof +of the big cave--fifty-two-seven, it says--and no lower do we go. The +bottom of the hole is plugged!" + + * * * * * + +Rawson made no reply. He was scowling while he stared speculatively at +the mouth of the twenty-inch bore--a vertical tunnel that led from the +drilling floor down, down to some inner vault. "Molten gold," he was +thinking. "It melted a cylinder of the new Krieger alloy--melted it +when its melting point is way higher than that of any rock that we've +hit. And now the bore is closed...." + +He was trying vainly to project his mental vision through those miles +of hard rock to see what manner of mystery this was into which he had +probed. He shook his head slowly in baffled speculation, then spoke +sharply. + +"Drill it out!" he ordered. "We're into a hot spot sure enough, though +I can't just figure out the how of it. But we'll tame it, Smithy. Send +down the drill. Clean it out. Then we'll poke around down there and +get the answer to all this." + +Five days were needed to send down the big drill with a new drill-head +replacing the other too fouled with gold for any use. The tubular +sections, a hundred feet in length, were hooked together and lowered +one by one. Each joint meant the coupling of the air-pipe as well. +Air, mixed with water from the outer jacket, must come foaming up +through the central core to bring the powdered rock to the surface. + +Five days, then one hour of boring, and another five days to pull out +the drill before Rawson could hope for his answer. But he found it in +the severed shaft of the great drill where the head had been melted +completely off. The big stem that would have resisted all but electric +furnace heat, and been cut through like a tallow candle in the blast +of an oxy-acetylene flame. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +_Red Drops_ + + +The flat-roofed shack of yellow boards that was Dean Rawson's "office" +had a second canopy roof built above it and extending out on all sides +like a wooden umbrella. Thick pitch fried almost audibly from the fir +boards when the sun drove straight from overhead, but beneath their +shelter the heat was more bearable. + +By an open window, where a hot breeze stirred sluggishly, Rawson sat +in silent contemplation of the camp. His face was as copper-colored as +an Apache's and as motionless. His eyes were fixed unwaveringly upon a +distant derrick and the blasted stub of a big drill that hung unmoving +above the concrete floor. + +But the man's eyes did not consciously record the details of that +scene. He saw nothing of the derrick or of the heat waves that made +the steel seem writhingly alive; he was looking at something far more +distant, something many miles away, something vague and mysterious, +hidden miles beneath the surface of the earth. + +"Heat," he said at last, as if talking in a dream. "Heat, terrific +temperatures--but I can't make it out; I can't see it!" + +The younger, broad-shouldered man, whose khaki shirt, thrown open at +the neck showed a chest tanned to the black-brown of his face, stopped +his restless pacing back and forth in the hot room. + +"Yes?" he asked with a touch of irritation in his tone. "There's +plenty of heat there--heat enough to melt off the shaft of that +high-temp alloy! What the devil's the use of wondering about the heat, +Dean? What gets me is this: the shaft has been plugged again. Now, +what kind of...." + + * * * * * + +Dean Rawson's face had not moved a muscle during the other's outburst. +His eyes were still fixed on that place that was so far away, yet +which he tried to bring close in his mind, close enough to see, to +comprehend the mystery that should be so plain. + +"Lava wouldn't do it!" he said softly. "No melted stone would melt the +Krieger alloy, unless it was under pressure, which this was not. +There was no blast coming out of our shaft. Yet we dipped into that +gold; we stuck the drill right down into it. But what did we go into +the next time? What did we dip into?" + +He swung quickly, violently, toward Smithy who was facing him from the +middle of the room. He aimed one finger at him as if it were a pistol, +and his words cracked out as sharply as if they came from a gun: + +"That tube you sent down--that piece of casing! How was it burned? +Were there straggling ends, frozen gobs of metal? Did it look like an +old-fashioned molasses candy bar that's been melted? Did it?" + +"Why, no," said Smithy. "It hadn't dripped any; it was cut off nice +and clean." + +"Cut!" Rawson almost shouted the word. "You said it, Smithy. So was +the shaft of the drill. And if you ever saw a piece of this alloy +being melted you know that it's as gummy as a pot of old paint. It was +cut, Smithy! Dipping into that melted gold threw us off the track; we +were thinking of ramming the drill down into a mess of lava. But we +didn't. It was cut off by a blast of flame so much hotter than lava +that melted rock would seem cold!" + +"And that helps us a lot, doesn't it," asked Smithy, scornfully, "when +the flame melts the end of the shaft shut as fast as we open it?" + +Dean Rawson's lean, muscular hands took Smithy's broad shoulders and +spun the younger man around. "Cheer up," Dean told him. "We've got it +licked. Why it doesn't blow out of that shaft like hell out for noon +is more than I can see; but the heat's there! We've won!" + +"But--" Smithy began. Rawson sent him spinning toward the door in a +good-natured showing of strength that his assistant had not yet +guessed. + +"Soup!" he ordered. "Break out the nitroglycerine, Smithy. Get that +Swede, Hanson, on the job; he's a shooter. He knows his stuff. We'll +blow open the bottom end of our shaft so it'll never go shut!" + + * * * * * + +Hanson knew his stuff and did it. But he met Rawson's inquiring eyes +with a puzzled shake of his head when the open mouth of the +twenty-inch bore gave faint echo of the deep explosion and followed +after a time with only a feeble puff of air. + +"Like a cannon, she should have gone," Hanson stated. "And she yoost +go _phht_!" + +"It's open down below," said Rawson briefly. "This is a different kind +of a well from the kind you've been shooting." + +To the waiting Riley he said: "Hook a bailer onto that cable and send +it down. See what you can tell about the hole." + +Again ten miles of cable hissed smoothly down the gaping throat. Then +it slowed. + +"Fifty-two-seven," said Riley, "and she's open. Seven twenty-five! +Seven fifty, and we're on bottom!" + +"Up," Rawson ordered, "if there's anything left of the bailer. It's +probably melted into scrap." + +But strangely it was not. It hung from the dangling cable spinning +lazily until Riley stepped in to check its motion. + +There was a check valve in the bottom--a door that opened inwardly, to +take in water and fragments of rock when need arose. Riley, +disregarding the possible heat of the twirling bailer, reached for it +with bare hands. He drew them back, then held them before him--and a +hundred watching eyes saw what had been unseen before: the slow +dropping of red liquid from the bailer's end. The same drops were +falling from Riley's hands that had touched that end. + +"Blood!" The word came from the foreman's throat in one horrified +gasp. It ran in a whispering echo from one to another of the watching +crew. From far across the hot sands came the rattle of a truck that +brought the first of many loads of cement and steel for Rawson's +buildings. Its driver was singing lustily: + + "Hark to what I say: + You're pokin' through the crust of hell + And braggin' too damn loud of it, + For, when you get to hell, you'll find + The devil there to pay!" + +But Rawson, looking dazedly into Smithy's eyes, said only: "It's +cold--the bailer's cold. There's no heat there." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +_The Light in the Crater_ + + +"Of course it wasn't blood!" said Smithy explosively. "But try to tell +the men that. See how far you get. 'Devils!' That's been their talk +since yesterday when Riley got smeared up--and now that the bailer's +gone we can't prove a thing." + +Again he was pacing restlessly back and forth in the little board +shack that was Rawson's field head-quarters. Rawson, seated by the +window, was looking at tables of comparative melting points. He +glanced up sharply. + +"You haven't found it yet?" he questioned. "A forty-foot bailer! Now +that's a nice easy little thing to mislay." + +Riley had followed the excited Smithy into the room; he stood silently +by the door until he caught Rawson's questioning glance. + +"Forty feet or forty inches," he said, "'tis gone! 'Twas there by the +derrick last night, and this marnin'--" + +"That's fine," Rawson interrupted with heavy sarcasm. "I haven't +enough down below ground to keep my mind occupied--I need a few +mysteries up top. Now do you really expect me to believe that a thing +like that bailer has been carried off?" + +This time it was Smithy who interrupted. "You can just practise +believing on that, Dean," he said. "When you get so you can believe a +forty-foot bailer can vanish into thin air, then you'll be ready for +what I've got. This is what I came in to tell you: that one truckload +of steel grillage beams for the turbine footings--they were put out +where we surveyed for the first power house--dumped on the sand...." + +"Well?" questioned Rawson, as Smithy paused. His look was daring +Smithy to say what he knew was coming. + +"Five tons of steel beams," said Smithy softly, "gone--just like that! +Just a hollow in the sand!" + + * * * * * + +The big figure of the Irish foreman was still beside the door. Rawson +saw one clumsy hand make the sign of the Cross; then Riley held that +hand before him and stared at it in horror. "Divils' blood," he +whispered. "And I dipped my hands in it. Saints protect us all!" + +"That will be all of that!" Dean Rawson's usually quiet voice was as +full of crackling emphasis as if it had been charged with electrical +energy. "If anyone thinks that I have gone this far, just to be scared +out by some dirty sabotage.... + +"I see it all. I don't know how they did it, but it's all come since +the gold was found. Someone else wants it. They think they can scare +off the men, maybe take a pot-shot at me, come back here and clean up +later on, pull up gold by the pailful, I suppose--" + +Riley leaped forward and banged his big fist down on the table. "Right +ye are!" he shouted, until loitering men in the open "street" outside +stared curiously. "Divils they are, but they're the kind of divils we +know how to handle. And now I'll tell ye somethin' else, sir: I know +where they are hidin'. + +"There was no work for anyone last night, but I'm used to bein' up. I +couldn't sleep. I was wanderin' around, thinkin' of nothin' at all out +of the way, and I thought I saw some shadows, like it might be men, +way off on the sand. Then later over to the old ghost town, d'ye mind! +I saw a light, a queer, green sort of light. Sure, a fool I was +callin' meself at the time, but now I believe it." + + * * * * * + +Dean Rawson had crossed the room while the man was still speaking. He +dragged a wooden case from beneath his cot and smashed at the lid with a +wrecking bar. Then he reached inside and drew forth a blue-black .45. + +He tossed the pistol to Riley. "Know how to use one of these?" he +asked. The manner in which the big Irishman snapped open the side +ejection was sufficient answer. Dean handed another gun to Smithy, +then pulled out more and laid them on his cot together with a little +pile of cartridge boxes. + +"You're all right, Riley," he said. "Just keep your head. Don't let +your damned superstitions run away with you, and I wouldn't ask for a +better man to stand alongside of in a scrap." + +The foreman beamed with pleasure: Rawson went on in crisp sentences: + +"Take these guns. Take plenty of ammunition. Pick five or six men you +know you can depend on. Mount guard around this camp to-night. I'll +post an order saying you're in charge--and I'm telling you now to use +those guns on anything you see. + +"Smithy," he said to the other man who had been quietly listening, +"you and I are going to start for town. Only Riley will know that +we're gone for the night. We'll have a little listening post of our +own up here in the hills." + +But Rawson postponed their going. More material was arriving; one +casting in particular needed all the men and Rawson's supervision to +place it on the sand where an erection crew could swing it into place +at some later date. And then, when he and Smithy had driven away from +camp with the distant city as their announced destination, Rawson +still did not go directly to the mountain grade. He swung off instead +where rolling sand-hills blocked all view from the camp, and he headed +the car into a gusty wind that brought whirling clouds of dust; they +almost obscured the crumbling walls at the volcano's base. + +The ghost towns that are found here and there in the forsaken +wilderness of the West are depressing to one who walks their empty +streets. Little Rhyolite was no exception. In gray, ghostly walls, +empty windows stared steadily, disconcertingly like sockets of dead +eyes in tattered, weatherbeaten skulls. + + * * * * * + +Dean and Smithy walked among the roofless ruins. Lizards, the color of +the cold, gray walls, slipped from sight on silent, clinging feet. +Once a sidewinder, almost invisible against the sand, looped away from +the intruders with smooth deliberation. + +"No marks here," said Rawson at last. "Even an Indian can't read sign +in this ashy sand when the wind has dusted it off." + +He turned his head from a whirl of fine ash where the wind, sweeping +around a wall of stone, was scouring at a sand dune's sloping side. + +"Dean," said Smithy, "old Riley may have been looking for banshees +when he saw these lights. Superstitious old cuss, Riley! Maybe there +wasn't anything here. But, Dean, there's some confoundedly funny +things happening around here." + +"Are you telling me?" Rawson asked grimly. "But we want to remember +one thing," he added: "We've punched a hole in the ground, and we've +got into a place that is hot enough to melt Krieger alloy one minute +and is stone cold the next. That's disturbing enough, but we don't +want to get that mixed up with what's happening up top. There's dirty +work going on--" + +He stopped. His eyes, that had never ceased to search for some mark of +special meaning, had come to rest upon an object half hidden in the +sand. He stooped and picked it up. + +"Now what the devil is this?" Smithy began. But Rawson was staring at +the smooth lava block that was in his hand. It was tapered; it was +pierced through with a straight, smooth hole, and its base was round +and ringed as if it had been held in a clamp. + +"That," he said at last, "was brought in from outside. Outside, +Smithy--get that." + + * * * * * + +Dean Rawson's face was wreathed in a sudden smile of pure pleasure. "No, I +don't know what the darn thing is," he admitted. "And I don't care. But I +know that someone, or some bunch of someones--outsiders--are trying to +horn in. I might even go so far as to say that I suspect the power +monopoly gentlemen. I think they have started in on us, plan to run off +our men, interfere in every way and drive me out of the field with the +boring a failure. Smithy, I begin to think I'm going to enjoy this job!" + +Again the hot wind, only beginning to cool with the setting of the +sun, swept around the building where they stood and tore at the hill +of sand. "Come on," said Rawson. "It's getting dark. We'll get up to +our lookout--" + +"Hold on!" called Smithy sharply. + +Rawson turned. Smithy was rubbing his eyes when the whirl of +wind-borne sand had passed; he was staring at the sand dunes. + +"I'm seeing things, I guess," he said. "I thought for a minute there +was a hole there, and the sand was slipping. I'm getting as bad as +Riley." + +The two went back through the gathering shadows to their waiting car. +And Smithy's involuntary shiver told Rawson that he was not the only +one to feel a sense of relief at the sound of the exhaust as their car +took them away from the dead bones of a dead city in a barren, +trackless waste. + + * * * * * + +The shoulder of rock, where the mountain road swung out, gave a +comprehensive view of camp and desert and the encircling mountains. +Above in a vault of black was the dazzling array of stars as the +desert lands know them; so low they were, the ragged, broken tops of +the three ancient craters seemed touching the warm velvet of the sky +on which the stars were hung. Beyond their smooth slopes a spreading +glow gave promise of the rising moon. + +Rawson headed the car downgrade in readiness for a quick return; he +ran it close to the inner wall of rock out of which the road had been +carved, then seated himself on the outer rim without thought of the +thousand-foot sheer drop beneath his dangling legs. With a glass he +was sweeping the foreground where the scattered lights of the camp +were like vagrant reflections of the stars thrown back to them from +the dead sea of sand. + +"Riley's on the job," he told Smithy when he passed over the glass +later on. "And I've got my pocket portable." He took the little radio +receiver from his pocket as he spoke. "Riley will signal me from my +office if he sees anything." + +The moon had cleared the mountains; its flood of light poured across +their rugged heights and filled the bowl of Tonah Basin as some master +of a great theatrical switchboard might have flooded a dark stage with +magic illumination, half concealing, transforming whatever things it +touched. + +All the hard brilliance of sunlit sands was gone. The rolling dunes +were softly mellow; the more distant mountains were dream-peaks. Half +real, they seemed, and half imagined in a veil of haze. Even the +buildings, the scattered piles of material, the gaunt skeleton of the +derrick--their stark blackness of outline and clear-cut shadow were +gone; the whole land was drenched in the mystery and magic of a desert +moon. + + * * * * * + +Rawson and the man beside him were silent. Even a mind perplexed by +unanswerable problems must pause before the witchery of nature's +softer moods. + +"If Riley were here," said Smithy softly at last, "he wouldn't be +seeing any devils. Fairies, pixies, the 'little people'--he'd be +seeing them dancing." + +Rawson shot his companion a sidelong, appraising glance. He had never +penetrated before to this sub-stratum of Smithy's nature. He had +never, in fact, felt that he knew much about Smithy, whose past was +still the one topic that was never mentioned. He saw his thick mop of +black hair and the profile of his face as Smithy stared fixedly down +toward the sleeping camp. It was a matter of a minute or so before he +knew that the head was outlined against an aura of red light. + +Smithy was seated at his right. Off beyond him the three extinct +craters made a dark background where the moonlight had not yet reached +to their inner slopes. Smithy's head was directly in line with the +largest crater's irregularly broken top; and about it was the faintest +tinge of red. + +For a moment the light flamed close; it seemed to be hovering about +the head of the silent, seated man. Then Rawson moved, looked past, +and found a true perspective for the phenomenon. One rugged cleft in +the rim of the crater's cup made a peephole for seeing within. It was +plainly red--the light came from inside the age-old throat. + + * * * * * + +"It's alive!" Rawson whispered in quick consternation. Almost he +expected to see billowing clouds of smoke, the fearful pyrotechnics of +volcanic eruption. + +He sensed more than saw that Smithy had not turned his head. "Look!" +he was shouting by now. "Wake up, Smithy! Good Lord!" + +He stopped, open-mouthed. The red glow had meant volcanic fires; to +have it change abruptly to a green radiance was disconcerting. + +Green--pale green. Only through the gap, like a space where a tooth +was missing in the giant jaw, could Dean Rawson see the changed light. +Only from this one point could the view be had--there would be nothing +visible from the camp below. And as quickly as it had come all +thought of volcanic fires left him; he knew with quick certainty that +this was something that concerned him, that threatened, and that was +linked up with the other threatening, mysterious happenings of the +recent nights and days. + +Still Smithy had not turned. Rawson felt one quick flash of annoyance +at his helper's dullness--or indifference; then he knew that Smithy's +dark-haired head was reached forward, that he was bending at a +precarious angle to stare below him into the valley. Then: + +"They're there!" said Smithy in a hushed voice, as if someone or +something on that desert floor far below might hear and take alarm. +"Look, Dean. Where's your glass? What are they?" + + * * * * * + +His cautious whispering was unnecessary. Below them a thin line of +light pierced the darkness; another; then three more in quick +succession before the sharp crack of pistol fire came to the men a +thousand feet above. Rawson had snatched up his binoculars. + +"To the left," Smithy was directing. "Off there, by the big casting. +Great Scott! what's that light?" + +Rawson got it in the glass--a single flash of green that cut the +blackness with an almost audible hiss. It was gone in an instant while +a man's voice screamed once in fear and agony, one scream that broke +like brittle steel in the same instant that it began. + +Dean found the big casting in the circle of his glass. There were +black figures moving near it; they were indistinct. He changed the +focus--they were gone before he could get their images sharp. + +But the casting! Plainly he saw its great bulk that many men had +worked to ease down to the sand. It was outlined clearly now until its +edge became a blur, until the sand rolled in upon it, and its black +mass became a circle that shrank and shrank and vanished utterly at +the last. + +"It's gone!" Rawson shouted. "It sank into the sand! I saw it...." + +He was running for the car. A clamor of voices was coming from below; +the sound died under the thunder of the car's exhaust as Rawson gave +it the gun and sent the big machine leaping toward the waiting curves. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +_The Attack_ + + +Every light of the camp was on as Rawson and his assistant approached. +A shallow depression in the sand marked the place where the big +casting had been. Beyond it a hundred feet was a black swarm of men +that parted as the car drew near. They had been gathered about a +figure upon the sand. + +Dean sensed something peculiar about that figure as the big car +ploughed to a stop. He leaped out and ran forward. + +He knew it was Riley there on the ground, knew it while still he was a +score of feet away. Only when he was close, however, did he realize +that the body ended in two stubs of legs; only when he leaned above +him did he know that the Irish foreman's big frame had been cut in two +as if by a knife. + +The severed legs lay a short distance beyond the body; they had fallen +side by side in horrible awkwardness, their stumps of flesh protruding +from charred clothing--and suddenly, shockingly, Rawson knew that the +flesh of body and legs had been seared. The knife had been hot--its +blade had been forged of flame! + +He heard Smithy cursing softly, unconsciously, at his side. + +"The green light," Smithy was saying in horrified understanding. "But +who did it? How did they do it? Where did they go?" + +"Quiet!" ordered Rawson sharply. He dropped to his knees beside the +mutilated body. Riley's eyes had opened in a sudden movement of +consciousness. + + * * * * * + +The voice that came from his lips was a ghastly whisper at first, but +in that stricken thing that had been the body of Riley, foreman of the +night drilling crew, some reservoir of strength must still have +remained untapped. + +He drew upon it now. His voice roared again as it had done so many +times before through the Tonah Basin camp. It reached to every +listening ear where crowding men stood hushed and motionless; and the +overtone of terror that altered its customary timber was apparent to +all. + +"Devils!" said Riley. "Devils, straight out o' hell!... I saw 'em--I +saw 'em plain!... I shot--as if hot lead could harm the imps of +Satan.... + +"Oh, sir,"--his eyes had found those of Dean Rawson who was leaning +above--"for the love of hivin, Mister Rawson, do ye be quittin' +drillin'. The place is damned. L'ave it, sir; go away...." + +His eyes closed. But he started up once more; he raised his head from +the sand with one final convulsive movement, and his voice was high +and shrill. + +"The fire! The fire of hell! He's turnin' it on me! God help...." + +But Riley, before his failing mind could recall again that torturing +jet of flame, must have slipped away into a darkness as softly +enveloping as the velvet shadow world behind the low-hung stars. +Rawson's hand that felt for a moment above the heart, confirmed the +message of the closed eyes and the head that fell inertly back. + +He came slowly to his feet. + +"Keep the floods on!" he ordered. "Take command of the armed guard, +Smithy; keep the whole camp patrolled." + +Then to the men: + +"Boys, Riley was wrong. He believed what he said, all right, but Smith +and I know better. Don't worry about devils. These're just some dirty, +skulking dogs who got away with murder this time but who won't do it +again. We know where they're hiding. I'm checking up on them right +now. After that you'll all get a chance to square accounts for poor +old Riley!" + + * * * * * + +"But the casting!" Smithy protested when he and Rawson were alone. +"You can't explain that disappearance so easy, Dean." + +"No, I can't explain that," Rawson's words came slowly. "They've got +something that we don't understand as yet--but I'm going to know the +answer, and I'm going to find out to-night!" + +He was seated behind the wheel of his old car. + +"I'm as good a desert man as there is in this crowd," he told Smith. +"And it's my fight, you know. I'm going alone. But there'll be no +fighting this trip; I'll just be scouting around." + +He leaned from the car to grip Smithy's shoulder with a hand firm and +steady. + +"You didn't see the crater when the show was on. You think that I'm +crazy to believe it, but up in that crater is where I'll find the +answer to a lot of questions. Lord knows what that answer will be. +I've quit trying to guess. I'm just going up there to find out." + +He was gone, the rear wheels of the car throwing a spray of sand as he +started heedless of Smithy's protests against the plan. Rawson was in +no mood to argue. He must climb the mountain while it was night; under +the sun he would never reach the top alive. He would go alone and +unseen. + +He swung wide of the deserted town at the mountain's base. The +spectral walls of Little Rhyolite still showed their empty windows +that stared like dead eyes, and the man guided his car without lights +along a hidden stretch of hard, salt-crusted desert. He felt certain +that other eyes were watching. + + * * * * * + +He began his climb at a point five miles away. The slopes that seemed +smooth and hard from a distance became, at closer range, a place of +wind-heaped, sandy ash, carved and scoured into fantastic forms. But +its very roughness offered protection, and Rawson fought the dragging +sand, and the gray, choking ash that dried his throat and cut it like +emery, without fear of being observed. + +He fought against time, too. Above Little Rhyolite, whatever +mysterious men were making the ascent would find the going easy. There +were windswept areas, long fields of pumice; a man could make good +time there. Rawson had none of these to aid him. He cast anxious +glances toward the eastern sky as he struggled on, till he saw gray +light change to rose and gold--but he stood in the titanic cleft in +the crater's rim as the first straight rays of the sun struck across. + +The volcano's top had been stripped clean by the winds of countless +years. Rocks, black, brown, even blood-red, were naked to the pitiless +glare of the sun. Their colors were mingled in a weird fantasy of +twisted lines that told of the inferno of heat in which they had been +formed. + +They towered high above the head of Dean Rawson as he stood, panting +and trembling with exhaustion. The cleft before him had become +enormous: it was a canyon, half filled with pumice and coarse ash. + + * * * * * + +Rawson stood for long minutes in quiet listening. At the canyon's end +would lie the crater, and in that crater he would find.... But there +was no slightest picture in his mind of what he might see. He knew +only that he himself must remain unseen. He went forward cautiously. + +Rocky walls; a floor of sand where his feet left no mark. He was +watching ahead and above him. His gun was ready in his hand; he did +not propose to be ambushed. He moved with never a sound. + +The silence persisted; no living thing other than himself lent any +flicker of motion to the scene. Not even a lizard could hope for +existence amid these dead and barren heights. He was alone--the +certainty of it had driven deeply into his mind before the canyon end +was reached. And, desert man though he was and accustomed to traveling +the waste places of the earth, Rawson learned a new meaning and depth +of solitude. + +Here was no voiceless companionship of trees or brush or cactus; no +little living things scuttled across the rocks--he was alone, the only +speck of life in a place where life seemed forbidden. + +So sure of this was he that he stepped boldly from the canyon's end. +He knew before he looked that he would see only more of the same +desolation. And his mind was filled equally with anger and +disappointment. + + * * * * * + +Something was opposing him! Something had come into their camp--had +killed old Riley. And he, Rawson, had been so sure he would find +traces here that would allow him to give that opposing force a +name.... + +He stared out from the rocky cleft into a sun-blasted pit. Already +the rising sun was pouring its energy ever the jagged rim of bleak +rocks and down into the vast throat, choked and filled with ash. + +It sloped gently from all sides, the gray-brown powder that had been +coughed from within the earth. It made a floor where Rawson could have +walked with safety. But he did not go on. + +"Damn it!" he said with sudden savagery. "What a fool I was to think +of finding anyone here. Who would ever pick out a spot like this for a +base of operations?" + +He stared angrily at the floor of ash, at the black, outcropping +masses of tufa. He was angry with himself, angry and baffled and tired +from his climb. Far down in the vast, shallow pit blazing sunlight +glinted from massive blocks whose sides were mirror-smooth. A whirl of +wind eddied there for a moment and lifted the dust into a vertical +gray column--the only sign of motion in the whole desolate scene. +Rawson turned and tramped back toward the long hot descent to the +floor of the Basin. + + * * * * * + +He tried to maintain an air of confidence before the men. He kept them +busy placing and stacking materials; to all appearances the work would +go on despite the mysterious happenings of the night. + +Dean even prepared to resume drilling operations. He sent down another +bailer on the end of the ten-mile cable, but he left it there; he did +not care to raise it and risk more inexplicable results with the +consequent destruction of the men's morale. + +"Too late to do any more," he said to Smithy that afternoon. "We'll +drop all work--let the men get a good night's sleep. I'll take guard +duty to-night, and you can run the job to-morrow." + +There were men of the drilling crew standing near, though Rawson was +handling the hoisting drums himself. A ratchet release lever hooked +its end under a ring on Rawson's hand and pinched the flesh. Dean made +this an excuse for waiting a moment while the drillers walked away. + +"Ought not to wear it, I suppose," he said, and dabbed at a spot of +blood under the gold band. "But it's an old cameo--it belonged to my +Dad." + +He was showing the ring to Smithy as the men passed from hearing. + +"Don't want to be seen talking," he explained tersely. "Mustn't let +the men know we are on edge--they're about ready to bolt. But you be +ready for a call. Have your men armed. I am looking for more trouble +to-night." + +The two were laughing loudly as they followed the men toward the +building where the cook was banging on an iron tire that served as a +bell. + + * * * * * + +Some three hours later Rawson was not smiling as he climbed the steel +ladder of the great derrick; he was grimly intent upon the job at +hand. + +All thought of his drilling operations had gone from him. He was not +anxious about the project. This was merely an interruption; the work +would go on later. But right now there was an enemy to be met and a +mystery to be solved. + +A rifle slung from his shoulder bumped against him satisfyingly as he +climbed. A man was on duty at a master switch--he would flood the camp +with light at the rifle's first crack. + +Dean seated himself at the top of the derrick. The cylinder of a huge +floodlight was beside him. Beyond was the massive sheave block; the +cables ran dizzily down to the concrete drilling floor so far below. +And on every side the quiet camp spread out dark and silent in the +night. Dean surveyed it all with satisfaction. Nothing would get by +him now. + +But his further reflections were not so satisfying. + +"Who did it? How? Where did they go?" He was echoing Smithy's +questions and finding no ready answers. And that flame-thrower that +had cut down old Riley--how was that worked? Its one green flash had +been almost instantaneous. + +He was puzzling over such futile questioning when he saw the first +sign of attack. + + * * * * * + +At the foot of the derrick was the hoisting shed. Except for that, +there was clear sand for a radius of fifty feet around the derrick's +base. Dean was staring suspiciously at that open space almost directly +underneath. + +Moving sand! He hardly knew what he had seen at first. Then the sand +at one point bulged upward unmistakably. + +For one instant Dean's thoughts shot off at a tangent. It was like the +work of a huge gopher--he had seen the little animals break through +like that. Then the sand parted, and something, indistinct, blurred, +dark against the yellow background, broke from cover. + +Rawson swung the rifle's muzzle over and down. Below him the vague +shadow had moved. Dean caught the blurred mass beyond his sights, then +swung the weapon aside. Who was it? He would have a look first. + +The thin crack of his rifle ripped the silence of the sleeping camp. +Dean had aimed to one side and he regretted it in the instant of +firing. For, in the same second, there had come from the moving shadow +the gleam of starlight reflected upward from polished metal. + + * * * * * + +Dean swung the rifle back. He fired quickly a second time. Beside him +the big light hissed into action and the whole camp sprang to sudden, +blazing light. And through the quick brilliance, more dazzling even +than the white glare itself, was one blinding line of green flame. + +Dean saw it as it began. It came from the dim shadow that had sprung +suddenly into sharp outline as the big lights came on. He saw the +figure. He sensed that it was a man, though he knew vaguely that the +figure was grotesque and hideous in some manner he had no time to +discern. + +The thin line of green flame ripped straight out, swinging in a quick, +sweeping trajectory, slashing through the steelwork of the great +derrick itself! + +Dean knew he was lost in the blinding instant while that fiery jet was +sweeping in a fan-shaped sector of vivid green. A knife of flame! It +had destroyed a man: it was now cutting down a framework of steel as +well! + +The derrick was falling as he fired again. There came a crushing jar +downward as the metal melted and failed, and the wild outward swing in +the beginning of the toppling fall. In the mind of Dean Rawson was but +one thought: the sights--and a something blurred beyond--a trigger to +be pressed. + +He was still firing when the shriek of torn steel went to thundering +silence, and even the lights of Tonah Basin Camp were swallowed up in +the whirling night.... + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +_Into the Crater_ + + +Smithy's agonized face was above him when he came back to life. "God!" +Smithy was breathing. "I thought you were gone, Dean! I thought you +were dead!" + +As it had been with Riley, there was one thought uppermost in Rawson's +bewildered mind: "The fire!" he choked. "He's swinging it...." + +Then, after a time: "The derrick--it's falling! I went down with +it!... I hit--" + +"I'll say you did," said the relieved Smithy. "The derrick smashed +across the bunkhouse, snapped you off, sent you skidding down the side +of a sand dune. It darned near scoured the clothes off you at that." + +Slowly Rawson began to feel the return flow of life through his body; +the shock had jarred every nerve to insensibility. Slowly he +remembered and comprehended what had happened. + +He was in his little office; he recognized his surroundings now. The +windows were open. Outside the sun was shining. He realized at last +the utter silence of that outer world. + +He tried to raise himself from the cot, but fell back as his +surroundings began to spin. "The camp!" he gasped weakly. "The men--I +don't hear them." + +"Gone!" Smith told him, while his eyes narrowed at some recollection +and his hand came up unconsciously to a bruise of his cheek. "They +beat it--went last night after the derrick fell. I tried to stop them. +The fools were crazy with fear--devils, hell, all that kind of stuff. +It all wound up in a fight--I couldn't hold 'em. + +"You've got to get better kind of fast," he told Rawson. "We've got to +get out of here ourselves--that flame-throwing stuff is too strong for +me to take." + +Rawson suddenly remembered the vague figure that had directed that +flame. "Did I get him?" he demanded eagerly. + +"You got him, yes, but then a whole swarm of things boiled up out of +nowhere and carried him off! We weren't any of us close enough to +see. The men said they were devils; I'm not sure they were wrong, +either. Dean, old man, we're up against something rotten. We've got to +get fixed for a fight; we can't handle this by ourselves." + + * * * * * + +Rawson was silent. He spoke slowly at last: + +"You mean we've got to quit--quit without knowing what we're up +against. Can you imagine what they'll say to me back in town? Scared +out, licked by something I've never even seen!" + +"Scared?" Smithy inquired. "You couldn't find a better word for it if +you hunted through the whole dictionary. Scared? Why, say, I'm so damn +scared I'm shaking yet, and the only thing that will cure me of it is +to look at those devils along the top of a machine gun! We'll go catch +us some equipment and a few service men--" + +"You're a good guy, Smithy," Rawson reached out and gripped one brown +hand. "And we'll do as you say; but first I've got to get a line on +things. I'm becoming as irrational as the men. I'm imagining all sort +of crazy things." + +"You don't have to imagine them." Smithy's voice was strained; it +showed the tension under which he was laboring. "Men or beasts--God +knows what they are!--but when they come up from nowhere--" + +"Out of the sand," Rawson explained. + +Smithy stared at him. "Out of the sand," he repeated. "Then, when they +cut a man in two, melt steel as if it were butter, pull a few tons of +metal down out of sight as easy as we would sink it in the ocean, +flash their lights over in the ghost town, up on top of a volcano--" + +"Stop!" shouted Rawson unexpectedly. Some sudden gleam of +understanding had flashed through his mind. He dragged himself to his +feet and staggered to the doorway where he clung until the nausea of a +whirling world had passed. "The dust! The dust!" he gasped. + +Smithy put a hand on his shoulder. Plainly he thought Rawson out of +his mind. "Easy, old-timer," he cautioned. "We'll get out of here. I +hate to make you walk in the shape you're in, but the dirty cowards +ran off with the trucks. They even took your car; there isn't a thing +here on wheels." + +But Rawson did not hear. He was staring off across the sand, and he +was muttering bitter words. + +"Fool! Oh, you utter fool!" he said. "The dust--the dust." Then he let +the roughly tender hands of Smithy guide him back to the cot where he +fell into a troubled sleep. + + * * * * * + +The comparative coolness of dusk was tempering the feverish midday +heat when Rawson awoke. And, strangely, his troubles and all his +conflicting plans had been simplified by the magic of sleep. His +course was entirely plain. He was going to the crater again. + +"What's there?" Smithy demanded. "What do you think that you'll find?" + +"I don't know," was the reply. + +"Then why--what the devil's the idea?" + +"It's my job. They put it up to me, Erickson and his crowd. I've got +to go." + +And nothing Smithy could say seemed able to reach Rawson and swerve +him from his single idea. + +"You'll be safe on the road," Rawson told him, while he filled a +canteen with water in preparation for his own trip. "You can get to +the highway by morning." + +Smithy did not trouble to reply. Was Rawson out of his mind? He could +not be sure. Certainly he had got an awful bump, but there were no +bones broken. However, it might be that he was still dazed--a crack on +the head might have done it. + +But there was no use in further argument, he admitted to himself. Dean +was going to the crater again--there was no stopping him--but he was +not going alone; Smithy could see to that. + + * * * * * + +Again Rawson took the more difficult ascent. They went first to the +ghost town: the slope above Little Rhyolite would save weary miles. +But, once there, they knew that the route was not a place where they +would care to be in the night. The realization came when Smithy, +walking where they had been the day before, passing the sand dune +where the wind had been scouring, seized Rawson's arm. + +"I thought so," he said softly. "I thought I saw something there the +other day, but the sand fell in and hid it. I didn't know the +old-timers went in for subways in Little Rhyolite." + +And Rawson looked as did Smithy, in wondering amazement, at the +roughly round opening in the sand, a tunnel mouth, driven through the +shifting sands--a tunnel, if Rawson was any judge, lined with brown +glistening glass. + +Understanding came quickly. + +"The jet of flame!" he exclaimed half under his breath. "They melted +their way through; the sand turned to glass; they held it some way for +an instant while it hardened." He walked cautiously toward the dark +entrance and peered inside. + +Darkness but for the nearer glinting reflections from walls that had +once been molten and dripping. The tunnel dipped down at a slight +angle, then straightened off horizontally. Rawson could have stood +upright in it with easily another two feet of headroom to spare. + +"And that," said Smithy, "is how the dirty rats got over to the camp. +Like moles in their runway. No wonder they could pop up from nowhere. +But, Dean, old man, I'm thinkin' we're up against something we haven't +dared speak of to each other. Don't tell me that it's just men we've +got to meet--" + +"Wait," Rawson begged in a hushed whisper. "Wait till we know. That's +why I didn't dare go out without something definite to report. We'll +go up--but not here. We'll get a line on this up top." + + * * * * * + +He led the way from the crumbling walls and skirted the mountain's +base to the place where he had climbed before. And, with the help of a +supporting arm at times, he found himself again in the great cleft in +the rocks. + +Darkness now made the passageway a place of somber shadows. The broad +cupped crater lay beyond in silent waiting; the vast sand-filled pit +seemed, under the starlight, to have been only that instant cooled. +The twisted rocks that formed the rim had been caught in the very +instant of their tortures and frozen to deep silence and eternal +death: the black masses of tufa, protruding from the packed ashy sand +might have been buried by the smothering mass but a moment before. It +was a place of death, a place where nothing moved--until again the +breeze that whirled gustily over the saw-tooth crags snatched at the +sand in that lowest pit and drew it up in a spiral of dust. + +The word was on Rawson's lips. "Dust--dust in the crater. Fool! I said +I could read sign; I thought I was a desert man." + +"Dust? And why shouldn't there be dust? How do you usually have your +volcanoes arranged, old man?" + +"Fine dust!" Rawson interrupted in the same whisper. He was glancing +sharply about him as if in fear of being overheard. "See, the wind is +blowing it. Coarse sand and pumice--that's to be expected; but light +dust in a place that the winds have been sweeping for the last million +years! I don't have them arranged that way, Smithy--not unless the +sand has been recently disturbed!" + + * * * * * + +He moved soundlessly across the sand. There was no chance for +concealment; the surface was too smooth for that. Yet he wished, as he +moved onward down the long, gentle slope, that he had been able to +keep under cover. In all the wide bowl of the great crater top was +nothing but dead ashes of fires gone long centuries before, coarse, +igneous rock--nothing to set the little nerves of one's spine to +tingling. Rawson tried to tell himself he was alone. Even the gun in +his hand seemed an absurd precaution. Yet he knew, with a certainty +that went beyond mere seeing, that invisible eyes were upon him. + +The blocks were massive when he drew near to them. They were buried in +the sand, their sides like mirrors, their edges true and straight. +"Crystals," Rawson tried to tell himself, but he knew they were not. + +Gun in hand, he moved among the great rocks. Open sand lay beyond, +running off at a steeper pitch to make a throat--a smaller pit in the +great pit of the crater itself. Rawson noted it, then forgot it as he +stooped for something that lay half hidden, its protruding end shining +under the light of the stars, as he had seen it gleam before at the +derrick's base. + +He snatched up the metal tube, noting the lava tip, and that it was +like the one Smithy had found in the ghost town. The tube, clearly, +was part of some other mechanism, and Rawson realized with startling +suddenness that he was holding in his hand the jet of a +flame-thrower--the same one, perhaps, that had almost sent him to his +death. + +The thought, while he was still thinking it, was blotted from his +mind. He was thrown suddenly to the sandy earth; the sand was slipping +swiftly from beneath his feet; he was scrambling on all fours, clawing +wildly for some anchorage that would keep him from being swept away. + + * * * * * + +He touched a corner of shining stone, drew himself to it, reached its +slanting side, then scrambled frenziedly to the top and threw himself +about to face the place of slipping sands. But where the sand had +been, his wildly glaring eyes found only a black hole--a vertical +bore, like the ancient throat of the volcano; and this, like the +tunnel in the sand, was lined with smooth and glistening glass. + +It was black at first, a yawning, ominous maw, till the polished sides +caught a reflection from below and blazed red with the glare of hidden +fires. + +No time was needed for Dean's quick searching eyes to grasp the +meaning of the change. Whatever had menaced the camp had set this +trap. He swung sharply to leap from the block, but stopped at the +sight of Smith's chunky figure coming slowly across the sand. + +"Back!" he shouted. His voice was almost a scream, shrill and +crackling with excitement. "Get back, Smithy! I'm coming!" + + * * * * * + +He would have leaped. Below the block the sand bulged upward as a +yellow animal-thing came clawing up into the night. Dimly he saw +it--saw this one and the others that must have been hidden in the +sand. They were between him and Smithy! A blaze of red came from +behind him--there must be others there! He snatched his gun from its +holster as he turned. + +Flames were hissing into the darkness, five or six of them in lines of +hot crimson fire. They changed to green as he watched, and the livid +light spread out in ghastly illumination over the creatures that +directed them. + +He saw them now--saw them in one age-long instant while he stood in +horror on the black shining rock. He saw their heads, red-skinned, +pointed, their staring eyes as large as saucers--owl-eyes. They were +naked, and their bodies, that would have been almost crimson in the +light of day, were blotched and ghastly in the green light. And each +one held in long clawlike hands a thing of shining metal--a lava tip +like the one he had found projected and ended in the hissing line of +green. + +A flame slashed downward. For one sickening second he waited to feel +the heat of it, though it was many feet away; in his mind he cringed +involuntarily from the ripping knife-cut of the fiery blade that would +blast the life from him; then he knew that the flame had passed--it +was tearing at the rock beneath his feet. And the cold stone turned to +liquid fire at that touch. + +It leaped in a splashing fountain to the sand. The blaze turned the +whole pit to flame. On even the farthest rugged crag of the crater's +rim the red light glowed. Before Rawson could raise his own weapon the +blast had torn the rock from beneath his feet. The great mass tipped, +rolled. Rawson's arms were flung wide in an effort to save himself. +Then below him was the black throat with its walls of glass: he was +plunging headlong into it, turning as he fell--and somewhere, far down +in that throat, was the red glow of waiting fires. He saw it again and +again as he fell.... + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +_The Ring_ + +[Illustration: _One of them pointed at the shaft Rawson had drilled._] + +[Sidenote: Town after town is fired by the emerging Red Ones as Rawson +lies helpless, a prisoner, far down in their home within the earth.] + + +"Smithy," Rawson had called him when he found the youngster fighting +gamely with death in the heat of Tonah Basin. And Gordon Smith was the +name on the company records. Yet he remained always "Smithy" to +Rawson, and the name, which Rawson never ceased to believe was +assumed, became a mark of the affection which can spring up between +man and man. + +And now Smithy stood like a rigid carven statue in the midst of a +barren sandy waste in the vast cup of a towering volcano top--sand +that was in reality coarse pumice and ash. This was a place of death, +a place where raging fires had left nothing for plant or animal life. +And, over all, the desert stars shone down coldly and added to the +desolation with their own pale light. + +Smithy had seen Rawson pull himself to the top of the great +square-edged rock. Sensing that danger of some sort was threatening, +he had started to run to the aid of the struggling man. Then came +Rawson's cry. + +"Back!" he shouted. "Get back, Smithy! I'm coming--" + +But he did not come; and Smithy, halted by the command, was frozen to +sudden, panic-stricken immobility by that which followed. + +He saw the leaping things, like grotesque yellow giants. They came +from the sand; then red ones leaped up from the open throat that had +suddenly formed. They held flame throwers, the red ones; and the green +lines of fire melted the rock from beneath Rawson's feet. All in the +one second's time, it was done, and Rawson's body, his arms wide +flung, was hurtling downward into the waiting throat and the +threatening red glow from within. Then the carriers of the flame +throwers vanished again into the pit, and there was left only a huddle +of giant figures that tore at the loose sand and ash with their hands. + +They threw the material in a continuous stream; the air was full of +cascading sand. To Smithy they were suddenly inhuman--they were almost +animals; men like moles. And they and their companions had captured +Dean Rawson--sent him to his death. Slowly the watching man raised +himself from the crouched position that had kept him hidden. + +They were through with their work, these great yellow-skinned naked +men--or mole-men. Six of them--Smithy counted them slowly before he +took aim--and two were armed with flame-throwers. + +Smithy rested his arm across the little hummock of gritty ash that +had sheltered him and sent six flashes of flame through the night +toward the cluster of bodies. + + * * * * * + +He made no attempt to aim at each individual--the shapes were too +shadowy for that. And he had no knowledge of what other weapons they +might have. One thing was sure: he must take no chances on facing the +red ones single-handed. He rammed his empty pistol back into its +holster as he turned and ran--ran with every ounce of energy he +possessed to drive his flying feet across the crater floor, out +through the cleft in the rocks and down the steep mountainside. + +He was stunned by the suddenness of the catastrophe that had overtaken +them. The horror of Dean Rawson's going; the fearful reality of those +"devils from hell" that old Riley had seen--it was all too staggering, +too numbing, for easy acceptance. Time was required for the truth to +sink in; and through the balance of the night Smithy had plenty of +time to think. + +He dared not go back to the camp where ripping flashes of green light +told him the enemy was at work. And then, even had it been possible to +creep up on them in the darkness, that one chance vanished as the +desert about the camp sprang into view. One after another the +buildings burst into flame, and Smithy was thankful for the +concealment of the vast, empty desert. + + * * * * * + +The embers were still glowing when he dared go near. This enemy, it +seemed, worked only at night, and Smithy waited only for the sun to +show above distant purple ranges. It had been their enemy once, that +fiercely hot sun; they had fought against the heat--but never had the +sun wrought such destruction as this. + +Smithy looked from haggard, hopeless eyes upon the wreckage of +Rawson's camp. For the men who had worked there, this had meant only a +job; to Smithy it had been a fight against the desert which had +defeated him once. But to Rawson it meant the fruit of years of +effort, the goal of his dreams brought almost within his reach. + +Smithy looked at the smoldering heaps of gray where an idle wind +puffed playfully at fluffy ash or fanned a bed of coals to flame. +Twisted steel of the wrecked derrick was still further distorted; the +enemy had ripped it to pieces with his stabbing flames. Even the +unused materials, the steel and cement that had been neatly stacked +for future use--the flames had been turned on it all. + +And Smithy, though his voice broke almost boyishly from his repressed +emotion, spoke aloud in solemn promise: + +"It's too late to help you, Dean. I'll go back to town, report to the +men who were back of you, and then.... They're going to pay, Dean! +Whoever--whatever--they are, they're going to pay!" + +He turned away toward the mountains and the ribbon of road that wound +off toward the canyon. Then, at some recollection, he swung back. + +"The cable's still down--he would have wanted it left all shipshape," +he whispered. + +Where the derrick had stood was the mouth of the twenty-inch casing. +The cable that ran from it was entangled with the wreckage of the +derrick, but it had not been cut. Smithy set doggedly to work. + + * * * * * + +A little gin-pole and light tackle allowed him to erect a heavier +tripod of steel beams; it hoisted the big sheave block into place, and +gave Smithy's two hands the strength of twenty to rig a temporary +hoist. The juice was still on the main feed line, and the hoisting +motors hummed at his touch. The ten miles of cable wound slowly onto +the drums. + +"It's nonsense, I suppose," he told himself silently. But something +drove him to do this last thing--to leave it all as Rawson would have +had it. + +The long bailer came out at last; there was just room to hoist it +clear and let it drop back upon the drilling floor. A glint of gold +flashed in the sunlight as Smithy let the long metal tube down, and he +broke into voluble cursing at sight of the bit of metal that was +caught near the bailer's top. + +The gold had started it all! That first finding of the gold on the big +drill had begun it.... He crossed swiftly to the gleaming thing that +seemed somehow to symbolize his loss. + +He stooped to reach for it, intending to throw it as far as he could. +Instead he stood in an awkward stooping attitude--stood so while the +long uncounted minutes passed.... + +His eyes that stared and stared in disbelief seemed suddenly to have +turned traitor. They were telling him that they saw a ring--a +cameo--jammed solidly into the shackle at the bailer's end. And that +ring, when last he had seen it, had been on Dean Rawson's hand! Dean +had caught it; he had hooked it over a lever in this very place--and +now, from ten miles down inside the solid earth, it had returned. It +meant--it meant.... + +But the stocky, broad-shouldered youngster known as Smithy dared not +think what it meant. Nor had he time to follow the thought; he was too +busily engaged in running at suicidal speed across the hot sand toward +barren mountains where a ribbon of road showed through quivering air. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +_The Darkness_ + + +Darkness; and red fires that seemed whirling about him as his body +twisted in air. To Dean Rawson, plunging down into the volcano's maw, +each second was an eternity, for, in each single instant, he was +expecting crashing death. + +Then he knew that long arms were wrapped about him, holding him, +supporting him, checking his downward plunge ... and at last the +glassy walls, where each bulbous irregularity shone red with reflected +light, moved slowly past. And, after more eons of time, a rocky floor +rose slowly to meet him. + +His body crashed gently; he was sprawled face downward on stone that +was smooth and cold. The restraining arms no longer touched him. + +He lay motionless for some time, his mind as stunned and +uncomprehending as if he had truly crashed to death upon that rocky +floor. Then, at last, he forced his reluctant nerves and muscles to +turn his body till he lay face upward. + +Darkness wrapped him as if it were the soft swathing of some black +cocoon. The world about him was at first a place of utter night-time +blackness; and then, far above him, there shone a single star ... +until that feeble candle-gleam, too, was snuffed out. + +A hand was gripping his shoulder; it seemed urging him to arise. He +felt each separate finger--long, slender, like bands of steel. The +nail at each finger-end was more nearly a claw, the whole hand a thin, +clutching thing like the foot of some giant ape. And, even as he +shrank involuntarily from that touch, Rawson wondered how the creature +could reach out and grip him so surely in the dark. But he came to +his feet in response to that urging hand. + +The night was suddenly sibilant with eery, whistling voices. They came +from all sides at once; they threw themselves back and forth in +endless echoes. To Rawson it was only a confused medley of conflicting +sounds in which no one voice was clear. But the creature that held him +must have understood, for he heard him reply in a sharp, piercing +tone, half whistle, half shriek. + + * * * * * + +What had happened? Where was he? What was this thing that pushed him, +stumbling, along through the dark? With all his tumultuous questioning +he knew only one thing definitely: that it would be of no use to +struggle. He was as helpless as any trapped animal. + +He was inside the earth, of course; he had fallen he had no least idea +how far; and, in some strange manner, this long-armed thing had +supported him and eased him gently down. But what it meant or what lay +ahead were matters too obscure for him to try to see clearly. + +He held his hands protectingly before him while the talons gripping +into his shoulder hurried him along. He stumbled awkwardly as his foot +struck an obstruction. He would have fallen but for the grip that held +him erect. + +For that creature, whatever it was, the darkness held no uncertainty. +He moved swiftly. His shrill shriek and the jerk of his arm both gave +evidence of his astonishment that his captive should walk so +blunderingly. + +Then it seemed that he must have comprehended Rawson's blindness. A +green line of light passed close behind Dean's head. It was +cold--there was no radiant warmth--but, when it struck the face of a +wall of stone some twenty feet away, the solid rock turned instantly +to a mass of glowing yellow-red. + +The cold green ray swung back and forth, leaving a path of radiant +rock behind it wherever it touched. And the rock was hot! Once the +green light held more than an instant in one place, and the rock +softened at its touch, then splashed and trickled down to make a fiery +pool. + + * * * * * + +Abruptly Rawson was able to see his surroundings. Also, he knew the +source of the red glow that had seemed like volcanic fires. There had +been others like his captor; they had been down below, and had played +their flames upon the rocks deep in the volcano. It was thus that they +made light. + +With equal suddenness, and with terrible clearness, Dean found the +answer to one of his questions. He wrenched himself about to stare +behind him at the creature that held him in its grip. And, for the +first time, the wild experience became something more than an +unbelievable nightmare; in that one horrifying instant he knew it was +true. + +Only a few minutes before, he had been walking across the cindery sand +of the crater top, walking under the stars and the dark desert +sky--Dean Rawson, mining engineer, in a sane, believable world. And +now...! + +He squinted his eyes in the dim light to see more plainly the beastly +figure, more horrible for being so nearly human. He had seen them +briefly up above; the closer view of this one specimen of a strange +race was no more pleasing. For now he saw clearly the cruelty in the +face. It was there unmistakably, even though the face itself, under +less threatening circumstances, might have been a ludicrous caricature +of a man's. + +Red and nearly naked, the creature stood upright, straps of metal +about its body. It was about Rawson's height; its round, staring eyes +were about level with his own, and each eye was centered in a circular +disk of whitish skin. The light went dim for a moment, and Dean, +staring in his turn, saw those other huge eyes enlarge, the white +covering of each drawing back like an expanding iris. + +Some vague understanding came to him of the beast's ability to see in +the dark. They used these red-hot stones for illumination, but this +thing had seemed to see clearly even when the stones had ceased to +glow. And again, though indistinctly, Dean knew that those eyes might +be sensitive to infra-red radiations--they might see plainly by the +dark light that continued to flood these rocky chambers, though, to +him, the rocks had gone lightless and black. + + * * * * * + +Even as the quick thoughts flashed through his mind, he was thinking +other thoughts, recording other observations. + +The rest of the face was red like the body; the head was sharply +pointed, and crowned with a mass of thin, clinging locks of hair. The +mouth, a round, lipless orifice, contracted or dilated at will; from +it came whistling words. + +Out of the darkness, giant things were leaping. They clutched at +Rawson, while the first captor released his hold and drew back. +Taller, these newcomers were, bigger, and different. + +In the red light from the hot rocks Dean saw their faces, in which +were owl eyes like those of the first one, but yellow, expressionless +and stupid. Their great bodies were yellow: their outstretched hands +were webbed. + +For one instant, as Rawson's hand touched his pistol in its holster, +a surge of fighting rage swept through him. His whole being was in a +spasm of revolt against all this series of happenings that had trapped +him; he wanted to lash out regardless of consequences. Then cooler +judgment came to his aid. + +Other figures, with faces red and ugly, expressive of nameless evil, +were gathered beside the one who still played the jet of cold fire +upon the walls. Like him they were naked save for a cloth at the waist +and the metal straps encircling their bodies. They, too, had +flame-throwers--he saw the long metal jets and their lava tips. Yet +the temptation to fire into that group as fast as he could pull +trigger was strong upon him. + +Instead he allowed these other giant things to grip him with their +webbed hands and lead him away. + + * * * * * + +The wavering light had shown many passages through the rock. Glazed, +all of them. Either they had been blown through molten rock which had +then solidified to give the glassy surfaces, or else--and this seemed +more likely--the flame-throwers had done it. Rawson, scanning the +labyrinth for some recognizable strata, had a quick vision of these +caverns being cut out and enlarged, and of their walls melted just as +they were being melted now--melted and hardened again innumerable +times by succeeding generations of red and yellow-skinned men. + +Yes, they were men. He admitted this while he walked unresistingly +between two of the giants. Another went before them and lighted the +way with the green ray of a flame-thrower on the melting rock. These +were men--men of a different sort. Evolution, working strange changes +underground, had made them half beasts, diggers in the dark, mole-men! + +They were passing through a long tunnel that went steadily down. +Cross passages loomed blackly; ahead of them the leader was throwing +his flame upon the walls of a great vault. + +Rawson had ceased to take note of their movements. What use to +remember? He could never escape, never retrace his steps. + +He tried to whip up a faint flicker of hope at thought of Smithy. +Smithy had seen him go, had seen the red mole-men, of course. And he +had got away--he must have got away! He would go for help.... + +But, at that, he groaned inwardly. Smithy would go for help, and then +what? He would be laughed out of any sheriff's office; he would be +locked up as insane if he persisted. Why should he persist--for that +matter, why should he go at all? Smithy would not believe for a single +minute that Rawson was still alive. + + * * * * * + +His thoughts ended. Webbed hands, wrapped tightly about his arms, were +thrusting him forward into a great room. The green flame had been +snapped off. One last hot circle on the high wall showed only a dull +red. But before it faded, Dean saw dimly the outlines of a tremendous +cavern. He saw also that these walls were unglazed, raw; they had +never been melted. + +Below the rough and shattered sides heaps of fragments were piled +about the room. + +Fleetingly he saw the shadowed details; then darkness swallowed even +that little he had seen. Clanging metal told of a closing door; a line +of red outlined it for an instant to show where it was welded fast. He +was a prisoner in a cell whose walls were the living rock. + +For a long time he stood motionless, while the heavy darkness pressed +heavily in upon his swimming senses; he sank slowly to the floor at +last. He was numbed, and his mind was as blank as the black +nothingness that spread before his staring eyes. In a condition almost +of coma, he had no measure or count of the hours that passed. + +Then a fever of impatience possessed him; his thoughts, springing +suddenly to life, were too wildly improbable for any sane mind, were +driving him mad. He forced himself to move cautiously. + + * * * * * + +On the floor he had seen burnished gold, shining dully as he entered. +There had been a thick vein of yellow in the rock. The floor, at that +place, was rough beneath his feet, as if the hot metal had been +spilled. + +His hands groped before him as he remembered the heaps of rock +fragments. Then his feet found one of them stumblingly, and he turned +and moved to one side. He remembered having seen a dim shape off there +that had made a straight slanting line. His searching hands +encountered the object and kept him from walking into it. + +The feeling of helplessness that drove him was only being increased by +his blind and blundering movements. He told himself that he must wait. + +Silently he stood where he had come to a stop, hands resting on the +object that barred his way--until suddenly, stiflingly, his breath +caught in his throat. Some emotion, almost too great to be borne, was +suffocating him. + +Slowly he moved his hands. Inch by inch he felt his way around the +smooth cylinder, so hard, so coldly metallic. Then, with a rush, he +let his hands follow up the slanting thing, up to a rounded top, to a +heavy ring and a shackle that was on the end of a cable, thin and +taut. And, while his hands explored it feverishly, the metal moved! + + * * * * * + +He clung to the smooth roundness as it slipped through his hands. It +was the bailer, part of his own equipment. That slender cable reached +up, straight up to the world he knew. And Smithy was there--Smithy was +hoisting it! + +He clung to the cylinder desperately. The bore, at this depth, had +been reduced to eight inches; the bailer fitted it loosely. And Rawson +cursed frantically the narrow space that would let this inanimate +object return but would hold him back, while he wrapped his arms about +the cold surface of the metal messenger from another world. + +It lifted clear, then settled back. This time it dropped noisily to +the floor. And suddenly Dean was tearing at the ring on one of the +swollen fingers of his left hand. + +It came free at last; it was in his hand as the cable tightened again. +Swiftly, surely, he worked in the darkness to jam the ring through the +shackle at the bailer's top. Then the bailer lifted, clanged loudly as +it entered the shattered bore in the rocks above, and scraped noisily +at the sides. The sound rose to a rasping shriek that went fainter and +still fainter till it dwindled into silence. + +But Dean Rawson, standing motionless in the darkness of that buried +vault, dared once more to let himself think and _feel_ as he stared +blindly upward. + +Up there Smithy was waiting. Smithy would know. And with Smithy +fighting from the outside and he, Rawson, putting up a scrap below.... +He smiled almost happily as his hand rested upon his gun. + +Hopeless? Of course it was hopeless. No use of really kidding +himself--he didn't have the chance of a pink-eyed rabbit. + +But he was still smiling toward that dark roof overhead as the +outlines of a metal door grew cherry red. They were coming for him! +He was ready to meet whatever lay ahead.... + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +_A Subterranean World_ + + +The metal plate that had sealed him in this tomb fell open with a +crash. Beyond it the passageway was alive with crowding red figures. +Above their heads the nozzles of a score of flame-throwers spat jets +of green fire. Rawson drew back in sudden uncontrollable horror as +they came crowding into the room. + +The familiar feel of the bailer's cold metal had given him a momentary +sense of oneness with his own world. Now this inrush of hideous, +demoniac figures beneath the flare of green flames was like a fevered +vision of the infernal regions come suddenly to actuality. + +Rawson retreated to the shattered, rocky wall and prepared for one +last fight, until he realized that the evil black eyes in their +ghastly circles of white skin were fixed upon him more in curiosity +than in active hatred. + +They formed a semicircle about him--a wall of red bodies, whose +pointed heads were craned forward, while an excited chatter in their +broken, whistling speech filled the room with shrill clamor. Then one +of them pointed above toward the open shaft that Rawson had drilled, +the shaft up which the bailer had gone. And again their voices rose in +weird discord, while their long arms waved, and red, lean-fingered +hands pointed. + +Only a moment of this, then one of them gave an order. Two of the red +figures came toward Rawson where he was waiting. They were unarmed. +They motioned that he was to go with them. And Dean, with a helpless +shrug of his shoulders, allowed them, one on each side, to take him +by the arms and hurry him through the open door. Two others went +ahead, the green jets of flame from their weapons lighting the +passage. + +The system of communicating tunnels seemed at first only the vents and +blow-holes from some previous volcanic activity. And yet, at times +they gave place to more regular arrangement that plainly was +artificial. The air in them was pure, though odorous with a pungent +tang which Dean could not identify. Through some of the passages it +blew gently with uncomfortable warmth. + +The guard of wild red figures hurried him along through a vast world +of caverns and winding passages which seemed one great mine. The +richness of it was amazing. Dean Rawson was a man, a human being, +facing death in some form which he could not yet know, and, so fast +had his wild experiences crowded in upon him, he seemed numbed to all +normal emotions; yet through it all the mind of the engineer was at +work, and Dean's eyes were flashing from side to side, trying to see +and understand the ever-changing panorama of a subterranean world. + + * * * * * + +Mole-men, both red and yellow, were everywhere. But it was apparent at +a glance that the yellow giants were a race of toilers--slaves, driven +by the reds. + +Their great bodies glowed orange-colored with the reflected heat of +the blasts of flame used to melt the metals from their ores. Gold and +silver, other metals that Rawson could not distinguish in the half +light--the glow of the molten stuff came from every distant cave that +the passages opened up. + +The sheer marvel of it overwhelmed him. His own danger, even the death +that waited for him, were forgotten. + +A world within a world--and who knew how far it extended? Mole-men, by +scores and hundreds, the denizens of a great subterranean world, of +which his own world had been in ignorance. Here was civilization of a +sort, and now the barriers that had separated this world from the +world above had been broken down; the two were united. Suddenly there +came to Rawson's mind a flashing comprehension of a menace wild and +terrible that had come with the breaking of those barriers. + +They were passing through a wider hall when the whistling chatter of +Dean's escort ceased. They were looking to one side where a cloud of +smoke had rolled from a slope beyond. One of the red figures +staggered, choking, from the cloud. Two yellow mole-men followed +closely after. + +The red mole-man was unarmed; each yellow one had a flame-thrower that +was now so familiar a sight to Dean. His own escort was silent; they +had halted, watching those others expectantly. + + * * * * * + +In the silence of that rocky room the single red one whistled an +order. One of the two yellow men placed his weapon on the floor. +Another shrill order followed, and the remaining worker, without a +moment's hesitation, turned the green blast of his own projector upon +his comrade. + +It was done in a second--a second in which the giant's shriek ended in +a flash of flame for which his own flesh was the fuel. A wisp of +drifting smoke, and that was all. And the red creatures who had Rawson +in their charge, after a moment of silence, filled the room with +shrill-voiced pandemonium, while they shrieked their approval of the +spectacle. + +But Dean Rawson's lips were forming half-whispered words, so intently +was he thinking the thoughts. "The damned red beast! That poor devil's +flame hit some sulphur, I suppose--burned it to SO_2--then he got +his!" + +But, even while he searched his mind for words to describe the evil of +this red race, he was realizing another fact. These yellow giants, +countless thousands of them, perhaps, were held in subjection by their +red masters. They would do as they were told. Dimly, vaguely, through +his horrified mind, came the picture of a horde of red and yellow +beasts turned loose upon the world above. + +There were fears now which filled Dean Rawson, shook him with horrors +as yet only half comprehended. But the fears were not for himself, one +solitary man in the grip of these red beasts--he was fearing for all +mankind. + + * * * * * + +His guard was hurrying him on, but now Dean hardly saw the scenes of +feverish activity through which they passed. Another thought had come +to him. + +That shaft, the hole which he himself had drilled--what damage had it +done? It was he who had broken down the barriers. His drill had told +these beasts that there was other life above. It had guided them. They +had realized that they were near to some other place where men worked +and drove tunnels through the rocks. They had followed up these +forgotten passages that led to the old craters, had ascended inside +the volcano, made their way through the top and emerged into another +world--a clean and sunlit world. + +Now Rawson's eyes found with new understanding the activity about him. + +The mining operations had been left behind. Here were branching +passages, great cavelike rooms--a world within a world, in all truth. +Throughout it, demoniac figures were hurrying, driving thousands of +giant yellow slaves where the light shone sparkling from innumerable +heaps of metal weapons--flame-throwers and others, the nature of which +Rawson could not determine. And everywhere was the shouting and hurry +as of a nation in the throes of war. + +His speculations ended abruptly. They were approaching a room, a vast +open place. High on the farther wall was a recess in the rock in which +tongues of flame licked hungrily upward. The heat of the fires struck +down in a ceaseless hot blast. Close to the fires, unmindful of the +heat, a barbaric figure assumed grotesque and horrible postures, while +its voice rose in echoing shrillness. + +Below were crowding red ones who prostrated themselves on the rocky +floor. + +"Fire worshipers!" The explanatory thought flashed through Dean +Rawson's mind. "Here was one of their holy places, a place of +sacrifice, perhaps, and he was being taken there, helpless, a +captive!" + + + + +CHAPTER X + +_Plumb Loco_ + + +The sheriff of Cocos County was reacting exactly as Rawson had +anticipated. Smithy stood before him, a disheveled Smithy, grimy of +face and hands. He had made his way to the highway and caught a ride +to the nearest town, and now that he had found Jack Downer, sheriff, +that gentleman leaned back in his old chair behind the battered desk +and regarded the younger man with amused tolerance. + +"Now, that's right interesting, what you say," he admitted. "Tonah +Basin, and the old crater, and red devils settin' fire to everything. +I've heard some wild ones since this Prohibition went into effect and +some of the boys started makin' their own, but yours sure beats 'em +all. Guess likely I'll have to take a run up Tonah way and see what +kind of cactus liquor they're makin'." + +"Meaning I'm drunk or a liar." Smithy's voice was hot with sudden +anger, but the sheriff regarded him imperturbably. + +"Well, I'd let you off on one count, son. You do look sort of sober." + +Smithy disregarded the plain implication and fought down the anger +that possessed him. + +"May I use your phone, Mr. Downer?" he asked. + +He called the office of Erickson and his associates in Los Angeles and +told, as well as he could for the constant interruptions from his +listener, the story of what had occurred. And Mr. Erickson at the +other end of the line, although he used different words, gave somewhat +the same reply as had the sheriff. + +"I refuse to listen to any more such wild talk," he said. "If our +property has been destroyed, as you say, there will be an accounting, +you may be sure of that. And now, Mr. Smith, get this straight, you +tell Rawson, wherever he is hiding, to come and see me at once." + +"But I tell you he has been captured," said Smithy desperately. "He's +gone." + +"I rather think we will find him," was the reply. "He had better come +of his own accord. His connection with us will be severed and all +drilling operations in Tonah Basin will be discontinued, but Mr. +Rawson will find that his responsibility is not so easily evaded." + +The sheriff could not have failed to realize the unsatisfactory nature +of the conversation; he must have wondered at the satisfied grin that +spread across Smithy's tired face. + +"Do you mean you're through?" he demanded. "You're abandoning Rawson's +work?" + +"Exactly," was Mr. Erickson's crisp response. + + * * * * * + +Smithy, as the telephone clicked in his ear, turned again to the +sheriff. "That unties my hands," he said cryptically. "One more call, +if you please." + +Then to the operator: "Get me the offices of the Mountain Power and +Lighting Corporation in San Francisco. I will talk with the +president." + +The sheriff of Cocos County chuckled audibly. "You'll talk to the +president's sixteenth assistant secretary, son," he told Smithy. "And +I take back what I said before--now I know you're plumb loco. By the +way, son, it costs money for telephone calls like that. I hope you +ain't, by any chance, overlookin'--" + +But Smithy was speaking into the telephone unmindful of the sheriff's +remarks. + +"Is Mr. Smith in his office?" he was inquiring. "Yes, President +Smith.... Would you connect me with him at once, please? This is +Gordon Smith talking." + +"Hello, Dad," he said a moment later. "Yes, that's right. It's the +prodigal himself. Now, listen, Dad, here's something important. Can +you meet me in Sacramento and arrange for us to see the Governor--get +his private, confidential ear? I'll beat it for Los Angeles--charter +the fastest plane they've got...." + +There was more to the conversation, much more, although Smithy +refrained from giving details over the phone. An operator was breaking +in on the conversation as he was about to hang up. + +"Emergency call," the young woman's voice was saying. "We must have +the line at once." + + * * * * * + +Smithy handed the telephone to the sheriff. "Someone's anxious to talk +to you," he said. He searched his pockets hurriedly, found a +ten-dollar bill which he laid on the sheriff's desk. "That will cover +it," he said with a new note in his voice. "Perhaps you're not just +the man for this job, sheriff. It's going to be a whole lot too hot +for you to handle." + +He had turned quickly toward the door, but something in the sheriff's +excited voice checked him. "Burned? Wiped out, you say?" + +Halfway across the room Smithy could hear another hoarse voice in the +telephone. The sheriff repeated the words. "Red devils! They wasn't +Injuns? The whole town of Seven Palms destroyed!" + +"I thought," said Smithy softly to himself, "that we'd have to go down +_there_ to find _them_, and instead they're out looking for us. Yes, I +think this will be decidedly too hot for you to handle, sheriff." He +turned and bolted out the door. + + * * * * * + +An attentive audience was awaiting Gordon Smith on his arrival in +Sacramento. Smithy's father was not one to be kept waiting even by the +Governor of the state. Also, Smithy was coming from the Tonah Basin +region, and the news of the destruction of the desert town of Seven +Palms had preceded him. Even the swift planes of the Coastal Service +could not match the speed of the radio news. + +There were only two men in the room when Smithy entered. One of them, +tall, heavily built, as square-shouldered as Smithy, came forward and +put his two hands on the young man's shoulders. Their greetings were +brief. + +"Well, son?" asked the older man, and packed a world of questioning +into the interrogation. + +"O. K., Dad," said Smithy simply. + +His father nodded silently and turned to the other man. "Governor, my +son, Gordon. He got tired of being known as the 'Old Man's +son'--started out on his own--not looking for adventure exactly, but I +judge he has found it. He's got something to tell us." + +And again Smithy told his wild, unbelievable tale. But it was not so +incredible now, for, even while Smithy was talking, the Governor was +glancing at the report on his desk which told of the destruction of +the little town of Seven Palms. + +"I can't tell you what it means," Smithy concluded. He paused before +venturing a prediction which was to prove remarkably accurate. "But I +saw them--I saw them come up out of the earth, and I'm betting there +are plenty more where they came from. And now that they've found their +way out, we've got a scrap on our hands. And don't think they're not +fighters, either. They're armed--those flame-throwers are nothing we +can laugh off, and what else they've got, we don't know." + +He leaned forward earnestly across the Governor's desk. "But that's +your job," he said. "Mine is to find Dean Rawson. He's alive, or he +was. He sent up his ring as proof of it. I've got to find him--I've +got to go down in that pit and I want your help." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +_The White-Hot Pit_ + + +How far his guard of wild, red man-things had taken him Dean Rawson +could not know. Many miles, it must have been. And he knew that the +air had grown steadily more stiflingly hot. But the heat of those long +tunneled passages was like a cool breeze compared with the blasting +breath of the room into which he was plunged. + +It seared his eyeballs; it struck down from the tongues of flame that +played in red fury in the recess high up on the farther wall. And the +vast room, the fires, the hundreds of kneeling figures, all blurred +and swam dizzily before him. + +The hot air that he breathed seemed crisping his lungs. Vaguely, for +the stupefying, brain-numbing heat, he wondered at the figure he saw +dimly in its grotesque posturing close to the flames. And the hundreds +of others--how could they live? How could he himself go on living in +this inferno? + +They had been chanting in unison, the kneeling red ones. Dean heard +the regular beat of their repeated words change to an uproar of +shrill, whistling voices. But he could neither see nor hear plainly +for the unbearable, suffocating heat. + +The clamor was deafening, confusing; it echoed tremendously in the +rocky room and mingled with the steady, continuous roar of the flames. +The mass of bodies that surged about him made only a blurring +impression; he tried to make himself see clearly. He must fight--fight +to the last! Only this thought persisted. He was striking out blindly +when he knew that his red guard had cleared a way through the mob and +was dragging him forward. + +He knew when they reached the farther wall. Somewhere above him was +the deep-cut niche in which the fires roared. And then, when again he +could see from his tortured eyes, he found directly ahead another +doorway in the solid rock. Beyond it all was black; it gave promise of +coolness, of relief from the stifling air of the room. Red hands were +thrusting him through. + +The burst of water, icy cold, that descended upon him from above +shocked him from the stupor that claimed his senses. He was drenched +in an instant, strangling and gasping for breath. But he could think! +And, as the lean hands seized him again and hurried him forward, he +almost dared to hope. + + * * * * * + +To his eyes the passageway was a place of utter darkness, but the red +ones, their great owl eyes opened wide, hurried him on. His stumbling +feet encountered a flight of steps. With the red guard he climbed a +winding stair where the tunnel twisted upward. + +That icy deluge had set every nerve aquiver with new life. He hardly +dared ask himself what might lie ahead. Yet he had been saved from +that mob; it might be his life would be spared, that in some way he +could learn to communicate with these people, learn more of this +subterranean world--which must be of tremendous extent. Without any +sure knowledge of their plans, he still was certain in his own mind +that they intended to swarm out upon the upper world. He might even be +able to show them the folly of that. + +A thousand thoughts were flashing through his mind when the tunnel +ended. Beyond a square-cut opening the air was aglow with red. An +ominous thunder was in his ears. Then a score of hands lifted him +bodily and threw him out upon a rocky floor that burned his hands as +he fell. + +Heat, blistering, unbearable, beat upon him. He was wrapped in +quick-rising clouds of steam from his wet clothes. + +The platform ended. Far below was a sea of red faces, grotesque and +horrible, where each held two ghastly white disks, and at the center +of each disk a mere pinpoint eye. + +He saw it all in the instant of his falling--the inhuman, shrieking +mob, the blast of hot flame not forty feet away at the back of the +rocky niche, and, between himself and the flame, a giant figure that +leaped exultantly, while its body, that appeared carved from metallic +copper, reflected the red fires until it seemed itself aflame. + + * * * * * + +Dean knew in the fraction of a second while he scrambled to his feet, +that the great room had gone silent. The roaring of the flames ceased; +even the clamor of shrill voices was stilled. He had thrown one arm +across his face to shield his eyes; the heat still poured upon him +like liquid fire. But his instant decision to throw himself out and +down into the waiting mob was checked by the sudden stillness. + +To open his eyes wide meant impossible torture, yet he forced himself +to peer through slitted lids beneath the shelter of his arm. + +The flame was gone. Where it had been was a wall of shimmering red +rock above a gaping throat in the floor, whose rim was quivering white +with heat. Here the blast from some volcanic depth had come. + +Then he saw it, saw the great coppery figure leaping upon him--and saw +more plainly than all this the end that had been prepared for him. + +Fire worshipers! Demons of an under world paying tribute to their god. +And he, Dean Rawson, was to be a living sacrifice, cast headlong to +that waiting, white-hot throat! + +The coppery giant was upon him in the instant of his realization. +Somehow in that moment Dean Rawson's wracked body passed beyond all +pain. With the inhuman, maniacal strength of a man driven beyond all +reason and restraint he tore himself half free from those encircling +arms and drove blow after blow into the hideous face above him. + +Only his left arm was free. That, too, was clamped tightly against his +body an instant later. + + * * * * * + +The giant had been between him and the glowing rocks. Now he felt +himself whirled in air, and again the blast of heat struck upon him. +He was being rushed backward; and there flashed through his mind, as +plainly as if he could actually see it, the scintillant whiteness of +that hungry throat. + +He tried to lock his legs about the big body to prevent that final +heave and throw that would end a ghastly ceremony. The rocks were +close, their radiant heat wrapped about him like a living flame. +Abruptly his strength was gone--the fight was over--he had lost! His +heart sent the blood pounding and thundering to his brain; his lungs +seemed on fire. + + * * * * * + +The high priest of the red ones had his priestly duty to perform--the +sacrifice must be offered. But even the high priest, it would seem, +must have been not above personal resentment. Sacrilege had been +done--a fist had smashed again and again into the holy one's face. +This it must have been that made him pause, that brought one big hand +up in a grip of animal rage about Dean's throat. + +Only a moment--a matter of seconds--while he vented his fury upon this +white-skinned man who had dared to oppose him. Dean felt the hand +close about his throat. So limp he was, so drained of strength, he +made no effort to tear it loose. He was _dead_--what mattered a few +seconds more or less of life? And then a thrill shot through him as he +knew his right hand was free. + +That hand made fumbling work of drawing a gun from its smoking, +leather holster. He could hardly control the numbed, blistered +fingers, yet somehow he crooked one about the trigger; and dimly, as +from some great distance, he heard the roar of the forty-five.... +Then, from some deep recess within him, he summoned one last ounce of +strength that threw him clear of the falling body. + +Instinctively he had heaved himself away from the fiery rocks; the +same effort had sent his big coppery antagonist staggering, stumbling, +backward. And Dean, sprawled on the stone floor, whose heat where he +lay was just short of redness, heard one long, despairing shriek as +the giant figure wavered, hung in air for a moment in black outline +against the fierce red of a rocky wall above a white-hot pit, then +toppled, pitched forward, and vanished. + +Sick and giddy, he forced himself to draw his body up on hands and +knees. Then he straightened, came to his feet, and staggered forward. + + * * * * * + +Below him was pandemonium. The sea of faces wavered and blurred before +his eyes. From a distant archway other figures were coming. He saw the +gleam of metal, heard the wild blare of trumpets, and knew that the +hundreds of red ones below him were standing stiffly, both hands +raised upright in salute as another barbaric figure entered. The air +was clamorous with a shrill repeated call. "Phee-e-al!" the red ones +shrieked. "Phee-e-al!" + +But Rawson did not wait to see more. Behind him, the flames that had +been fed with human flesh--if indeed these red ones were human--roared +again into life. He had returned the pistol to its holster when first +he came to his feet; his weak hands had seemed unable to hold it. And +now his two hands were thrust outward before him as he staggered +blindly toward the tunnel mouth. + +It was where he had emerged upon the platform. His reaching hands +found the side entrance where the stairs led down to the main hall. +In the darkness he made his way past. Stumbling weakly he pushed on +down the long tunnel whose floor slanted gently away. + +Ahead of him was a light. The comparative coolness of these rocks had +served to revive him somewhat. He had no hope of escape, yet the light +seemed comforting, somehow. + +He stopped. His stinging eyes were wide open. He stared incredulously +at the glowing spot on a distant wall, where a flame must have +touched, and at the figure beneath it. + +The figure of a woman! A young woman, tall, slender, fair-haired, +whose skin was white, a creamy white, whiter than snow. + +A woman? It was a mere girl, slender and beautiful, her graceful young +body poised as if, in quick flight, she had been caught and held for a +moment of stillness. + +What was she doing here? His exhausted brain could not comprehend what +it meant. He had seen women of the Mole-men tribe mingling with the +men. Like them their heads were pointed, their faces grotesque and +hideous. Rawson gave an inarticulate cry of amazement and staggered +forward. + +Between him and the distant figure a crowd of Reds swarmed in. They +came from a connecting passage. Above their heads the lava tips of +flame-throwers were spitting jets of green fire. Every face was turned +toward him at his cry. + +Beyond them the white figure vanished. Dean, leaning weakly against +the wall, told himself dully that it had been a phantom, a product of +his own despairing brain and his own weakness. Then that weakness +overcame him; and the red Mole-men, their white and hideous eyes, the +threatening jets of green flame, all vanished in the quick darkness +that swept over him.... + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +_Dreams_ + + +The black curtain of unconsciousness which descended so quickly upon +Rawson was not easily thrown off. For hours, days or weeks--he never +knew how long he lay in the citadel of the Reds--it was to wrap him +around. + +Nor was his waking a matter of a moment. Many and varied were the +impressions which came to him in times of semiconsciousness, and which +of them were realities and which dreams, he could not tell. + +He was being tortured with knives, lances tipped with pain that +dragged him up from the black depths in which he lay. Dimly he +realized that his clothes were being stripped from him and that the +piercing knives were none the less real for being only the touch of +hands and rough cloth upon his blistered body. Then from head to foot +he was coated with a substance cool and moist. The pain died to a mere +throbbing and again he felt himself sinking back into unconsciousness. + +There were other visions, many others, some of them plain and +distinct, some blurred and terrifying to his fevered brain trying +vainly to bring order and reason into what was utterly chaotic. + +Once a bedlam of shrieking voices roused him. He tried to open his +eyes, whose lids were too heavy for his strength. And by that he knew +he was dreaming. Yet from under those lowered lids he seemed to see a +wild medley of red warriors, their faces blotched and ghastly in the +green light of their weapons. They were carrying a charred body which +they threw heavily upon the floor beside him as if to compare the two. +He saw the face which the flames had not touched, the face of Jack +Downer--Downer, the sheriff of Cocos County. His sandy hair had been +scorched to the scalp. + +Dreams ... and the steady beat of metal-shod feet of marching men. He +saw them passing some distance away. The repeated _thud-thud_ of metal +on stone echoed maddeningly through his brain for hours.... Dreams, +all of them. + +And once there came to him a vision which beyond all doubt was unreal. + + * * * * * + +Silence had surrounded him. For what seemed hours not one of the red +mole-men had come near. And then, in the silence, he heard whisperings +and the sound of stealthy feet; and, for a moment, the same white +figure that had met him in his flight stood where he could see. + +Only the merest trace of dim light relieved the utter darkness of the +room. The girl's figure was ghostly, unreal. Yet he saw the dull +sparkle of jeweled breast-plates against her creamy white skin. Loose +folds of cloth were gathered about her waist; her golden hair was +drawn back except for vagrant curls that only accentuated the perfect +oval of her face. + +There were others with her, dim shapes of men; how many Rawson could +not tell. They looked down at him, whispering softly, excitedly, +amongst themselves; but their words were like nothing he had ever +heard. + +For an instant Dean felt his stupefied mind coming almost to +wakefulness. Phantom figures, ghostly and unreal--but the faces were +human, and the eyes looked down upon him pityingly. He tried to rouse +himself, tried to call out, then settled limply back, for the girl was +speaking--or he was catching her thoughts. It seemed almost that he +heard her whispered words: + +"They take him to _Gevarro_, to the Lake of Fire which never dies! +Gor told me--he overheard their plans. But, by the Mountain I +swear...." Then footsteps echoed in a far-off passage, and the white +ones vanished like drifting smoke. + +Dreams, all of them. Yet the time came when Dean knew that he was +awake--knew too that further experiences awaited him in this demoniac +land. + + * * * * * + +Again red guards came. The wicked breath of their weapons filled the +great room where Rawson had been with green, flickering light. Dean, +dragged to his feet, was unable to stand. One of the giant yellow +workers came forward at a whistled order and held him erect. Another +brought a bowl carved from rock crystal and filled with a liquid +golden-green with reflected light. He put it to Rawson's lips and with +the first touch Dean knew that he must have been filled with a burning +thirst beyond anything he had ever known. He gulped greedily at the +liquid, drained the bowl to the last drop, then marveled at the +thrilling fire of strength that flowed through him. + +"Wine," he thought, "wine of the gods--or devils." He came to himself +with a start. He knew that he was naked and that his body was encased +in a coating of stiff gray plaster. It was this that prevented his +arms and legs from flexing. + +Another order and the giant worker picked him up in his arms and +carried him where the others led to a distant room. A stream trickled +through a cut in the rocky floor. At the center of the room was a +pool. Unable to resist, Dean felt the giant arms toss him out and +down. + +The water was warm. At its first touch the hard plaster melted like +snow. Sputtering and choking for breath, Rawson came to the surface. +He found he could move freely, then reaching hands hauled him out +upon the floor, and through all his dread he found time to marvel at +his own firm muscles and the healthy white of his skin that had been +seared and blistered. + +He obeyed when the red guards pointed and motioned him into a dark +passageway. He tried to keep up with them as they hurried him on. +Evidently his pace was too slow, for again the big worker picked him +up, swung him into the air and seated him firmly on one broad +shoulder, and, with red guards ahead and behind them, hurried on. + +To find himself a child in the hands of this big yellow man was +disconcerting. To be calmly lugged off was almost humiliating. No one +who was not a good sport could have grinned as Rawson did at his own +predicament. + +"Not exactly a triumphal procession," he told himself, then his lips +set grimly. "They've got my gun," he thought, "and now, whatever +comes, all I can do is stand and take it. Still, they've saved my +life. But what for?" + + * * * * * + +Always the way led downward, and Rawson, perched on his strange, +half-human steed, let his gaze follow up every branching tunnel and +widespread cave. Not all of these were as dark as the broad +thoroughfare they followed. In some, strange lights glowed, and Rawson +saw weird, towering plant growths that yellow workers were harvesting. + +Life, life, everywhere, and seemingly this underground world was +endless. + +Troops of red warriors passed them, upward bound. The dancing flames +of their weapons, where occasional ones were in action, glowed from +afar. They bobbed and waved like green fireflies as the Mole-men came +on at a half-run. + +"And this means trouble up top," he thought. "There's going to be hell +to pay up there." + +But workers, fighters, everyone they met stood aside to let the red +guard pass. Again Rawson heard the strange word or call that had come +to him in the temple of fire. One of the guides would give a whistling +call that ended in the same strange shrill cry of "Phee-e-al," and +instantly the way was cleared. + +A wild journey, incredible, unreal. Rawson, as he met the countless +staring white eyes of the creatures they passed, found his thoughts +wandering. He had had wild dreams. Surely this was only another in +that succession of phantom pictures. Then, seeing the cold, implacable +hatred in those staring eyes, he would be brought back with sickening +abruptness to a full knowledge of his own hopeless situation. + +"Gevarro, the lake of fire which never dies"--what was it the white +ones had said? But no, that certainly was a dream like that other in +which he had seemed to see the charred body of a man, the sheriff who +had called to see him at his camp in Tonah Basin. + +Dreams--reality--his brain was confused with the wild kaleidoscope of +unbelievable pictures. + + * * * * * + +He was suddenly aware that through it all he had been mentally +tabulating their route, remembering the outstanding features when +there was light enough to see. He knew that unconsciously his mind had +been thinking of escape. Wilder than all the other visions, he had +been picturing himself retracing his route, alone, free. He did not +know that he had laughed aloud, harshly, hopelessly, until he saw the +curious eyes of his red guard upon him. + +"Yes," he told himself in silent bitterness, "I could find my way +back, if...." + +The guard had swung off from the great tunnel which must have been one +of the main thoroughfares of the Mole-men's world. They crowded +through a narrower passage and again Rawson found himself in one of +the great, high-ceilinged caves like the others he had seen. But +unlike the others this was brightly lighted. + +Massive limestone formation. His eyes squinted against the glare and +caught the character of the rock before he was able to distinguish +details, and in the black limestone big disks of gray mineral had been +set. Jets of flame played upon them and turned them to blazing, +brilliant white. + +The big yellow Mole-man who had carried him dropped him roughly to the +floor and backed away. About him the red guard was grouped. Rawson +caught a glimpse of hundreds of other thronging figures. The crowd +about him separated. A space was cleared between him and the farther +end of the room, a lane lined on either side by solid masses of savage +Reds. And beyond them, more barbaric than any figure in the +foreground, was another group. + + * * * * * + +Across the full width of the room a low wall was raised three or four +feet from the floor. It was capped with rude carvings. The whole mass +gleamed dully golden in the bright light. Beyond the wall in +semicircular formation, resembling a grouping of bronze statues, were +men like the one with whom Rawson had fought. Priests, tenders of the +fires. He knew in an instant that here were more of the red one's holy +men. They stood erect, unmoving. At their center was another seated +man-shape that might have been cast from solid gold. + +His naked body was yellow and glittering, contrasting strongly with +the black metal straps like those the warriors wore. On his head a +round, sharply-pointed cap was ablaze with precious stones. + +Rawson took it all in in one quick glance. He knew that those copper +bodies were not encased in metal, for the flesh of the one he had +fought with had sunk under his blows. Their skin was coated with a +preparation, heat resistant without a doubt, and the golden one must +have been treated in somewhat the same way. + +His thoughts flashed quickly over this. It was the face of that seated +figure that riveted his attention, a white face, milk-white, so white +it seemed almost chalky! + + * * * * * + +For one breathless second Rawson was filled with a wordless hope. +Those white ones of his dream had looked upon him with kindly eyes. +They were human--men of another race, but men. Then beneath the chalky +whiteness of the face he found the hideous features of the red +Mole-men, and knew that the white color of the face was as false as +that of the golden body. + +But he was their leader. He was someone of importance. Rawson had +started forward impetuously when he saw the figure rise. At the first +motion the hands of every red one in the room were flung in air. They +stood stiffly at salute. Even the priests' coppery arms flashed +upward. And "Phee-e-al!" a thousand shrill voices were shouting. +"Phee-e-al! Phee-e-al!" + +Rawson stopped, then walked slowly forward, one defenseless, naked man +of the upper world, between two living walls formed by men of a hidden +race. + +"Phee-e-al," he was thinking. "He's the one I saw coming into their +temple back there. They got out of our way when they knew we were +coming to see him. He's the big boss here, all right." + +He did not pause in his steady, forward progress until his hands were +resting upon the golden barrier. Strange thoughts were racing through +his mind. Phee-e-al, he was facing Phee-e-al, king of a kingdom ten +miles or more beneath the surface of the earth, a place of devils more +real and terrible than any that mythology had dared depict. And he, +Dean Rawson, a man, just one of the millions like him up there in a +sane, civilized world, was down here, standing at a barrier of gold +before a tribunal that knew nothing of justice or mercy. + + * * * * * + +Thoughts of communicating with them had mingled with other half-formed +plans in his racing mind. Sign language--he had talked with the +Indians; he might be able to get some ideas across. He met the other's +fierce scrutiny fearlessly, then, waiting for him to make the first +advance, let his gaze dart about at closer range. He could not +restrain a start of surprise at sight of his own clothing, his pocket +radio receiver and his pistol spread out on a metal stand. + +They had been curious about them. Rawson took that as a good sign. +Perhaps he had been mistaken in his interpretation of what he had +seen. For himself, he could have no real hope, but it might be that +the outpouring of these demons into his own world was a threat that +lay only in his own imagination. + +His eyes came back to meet that gaze which had never left him. The +eyes were mere dots of jet in a white and repulsive face. The rounded +mouth opened to emit a shrill whistled order. + +In the utter silence of the great room one of the copper-skinned +priests moved swiftly toward the rear. There were chests there, +massive metal things afire with the brilliance of inlaid jewels. The +priest flung one of them open with a resounding clang. + +The room had been warm, and the chill which abruptly froze Rawson's +muscles to hard rigidity came from within himself. Dreams! He had +thought them dreams, those marching thousands, and the others who +returned. He had dared to hope he might avert an invasion by this +inhuman horde. + +And now he knew his worst imaginings were far short of the truth. He +saw clearly his own fate. For the priest returning was holding an +object aloft, a horrible thing, a naked body, scorched and charred. +And above it a head lopped awkwardly. The hair was sandy; half of it +had been burned to the scalp in a withering flame. Below, staring from +sightless eyes, was the face of the man who had once been sheriff of +Cocos County. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +"_N-73 Clear!_" + + +"You fly, of course?" demanded Governor Drake. + +Smithy nodded. "Unlimited license--all levels." + +They had spent the night in the executive mansion, and now the +Governor had burst precipitately into the room where Smithy and his +father had just finished dressing. The two had been deep in an earnest +conversation which the Governor's entrance had interrupted. + +"I am drafting you for service," said the Governor. "I want you to go +out to Field Number Three. A fast scout plane--National Guard +equipment--will be ready for you--" + +He broke off and stared doubtfully at a paper in his hand, a +radiophone message, Smithy judged. "I'm in a devil of a fix," the +Governor exclaimed, after a pause. Then: + +"I don't doubt your sincerity," he told Smithy. "Never saw you till +yesterday, but your father's 'O.K.' goes a hundred per cent with me. +Old 'J. G.' and I have been through a lot of scraps together." His +frowning eyes relaxed for a moment to exchange twinkling glances with +the older man. + +"No, it isn't that," he added, "but...." Again he stared at the flimsy +piece of paper. + +"What's on your mind, Bill?" asked Smith senior. "That stuff the boy +told us was pretty wild"--he laid one hand affectionately upon +Smithy's shoulder--"but he's a poor liar, Gordon is, and, knowing his +weakness, he usually sticks to the truth. And there's no record of +insanity in the family, you know. If there's something sticking in +your crop, Bill, cough it up." + +And the Honorable William B. Drake obeyed. "Listen to this," he +commanded, and read from the paper in his hand: + + "'Replying to your inquiry about the doings at Seven Palms. + Some Indians did that job. No help needed. I can handle + this. Posse organized and we are leaving right now.--Signed, + Jack Downer, Sheriff, Cocos County.'" + +"That sounds authentic," said Smithy drily. "I've met the sheriff." + +"Now, if it _was_ Indians that got tanked up and came down off the +reservation, burned Seven Palms and cleaned up your camp--" began +Governor Drake. + +"It wasn't!" Smithy interrupted hotly. "I told you--" He felt his +father's hand gripping firmly at his shoulder. + +"Steady," said Smith, senior. "Let him talk, son." + +"There's an election three months from now, J. G.," said the +Governor, "and you know they're riding me hard. Let me make one false +move--just one--anything that the opposition can use for a campaign of +ridicule, and my goose is cooked to a turn." + + * * * * * + +Gordon Smith shook off his father's restraining hand and took one +quick forward step. His face, even through the tan of the desert sun, +was unnaturally pale. + +"Election be dammed!" he exploded. "Dean Rawson has been captured by +those red devils--he's down there, the whitest white man I ever met! +I've been to the sheriff; now I've come to you! Do you mean to tell me +there isn't any power in this state to back me up when--" + +He stopped. There was a tremble in his voice he could not control. + +"Good boy," said Governor Drake softly. "Now I know it's the truth. +Yes, you'll be backed up, plenty, but for the present it will be +strictly unofficial. Now pull in your horns and listen. + +"You know the lay of the land. I want your help. Go out to Field +Three; there'll be a man there waiting for you. Don't call him +'Colonel'--he's also strictly unofficial to-day. The sheriff and his +posse will be there at Seven Palms inside an hour; I want you to be +there, too, about five thousand feet up. + +"Tell Colonel Culver--I mean Mr. Culver--your story; tell him +everything you know. He'll be in charge of operations if we have to +send in troops; he'll give you that private and unofficial backing I +spoke of if we don't. + +"Now get down there; keep your eye on the sheriff's crowd and see +everything that happens!" + +But Smithy's parting remark was to his father; it was a continuation +of the subject they had been discussing before. + +"You can buy at your own price," he said. "They've got rights to the +whole basin. But they've quit; I'm not treating them to a +double-cross." + +And he added as he went out of the room: "Buy it for me if you don't +want it yourself." + + * * * * * + +It was a two-place, open-cockpit plane that Smithy found had been set +aside for him. Dual control--the stick in the forward cockpit carried +the firing grip that controlled the slim blue machine guns firing +through the propeller. Behind the rear cockpit a strange, unwieldy, +double-ended weapon was recessed and streamlined into the fuselage. +The scout seemed quite able to protect itself in an emergency. + +Beside the plane a tall, slender man in civilian attire was waiting. +He stuck out his hand, while the gray eyes in his lean, tanned face +scanned Smithy swiftly. + +"I'm Culver. Understand I'm to be your passenger to-day. How about +it--can you fly the ship? Seven hundred and fifty DeGrosse +motor--retractable landing gear, of course. She hits four-fifty at top +speed--snappy--quick on the trigger." + +Smithy shook his head dubiously. "Four-fifty--I'm not accustomed to +that. But you can take the stick, Mr. Culver, if I get in a hurry and +jump out and run on ahead. You see I'm used to my own ship, an +_Assegai_--special job--does five hundred when I'm pressed for time." + +The lean face of Mr. Culver creased into a smile. "You qualify," he +said. "But keep your hands off the dead mule." + +At an inquiring glance he pointed to the heavy, half-hidden weapon +that Smithy had noticed. "Can't kick," he explained, "--hence 'dead +mule.' It's the new Rickert recoilless; throws little shells the size +of your thumb--but they raise hell when they hit." + +"Sounds interesting." Smithy climbed into the rear cockpit and +strapped himself in. "Show me how it works, then I won't do it." + + * * * * * + +A pistol grip moved under Culver's reaching hand and the strange +weapon sprang from concealment like something alive. The pistol grip +moved sideways, and the gun swung out and down, its muzzle almost +touching the ground. Smithy was suddenly aware that a crystal above +his instrument board was reflecting that same bit of sun-baked earth. +A dot of black hung stationary at the crystal's center. + +"That's your target." Culver's voice held all the pride of a child +with a new toy, but he released the grip, and the ungainly gun swung +smoothly back to its hiding place. + +He settled himself in the forward cockpit. "You will find a helmet +there," he said. "It's phone-equipped; you can tell me all about that +wild nightmare of yours while we jog along." + +The white beam from the despatcher's tower had been on them while they +talked. Other planes were waiting on the field. Smithy smiled as he +settled the helmet over his head. "For a strictly unofficial flight," +he thought, "we're getting darned good service." + +He taxied past a hangar where uniformed men pointedly paid them no +attention. He swung the ship to the line as Airboard regulations +required. + +"N-73" was painted on the monoplane's low wings that seemed scraping +the ground. "N-73 Clear!" the despatcher's voice radioed into Smithy's +ears. Then the seven-hundred-and-fifty-horsepower DeGrosse let loose +its voice as Smithy gunned her down the field. + + * * * * * + +Whatever doubts Colonel Culver may have had of Smithy's ability were +dissipated as they made their way cautiously through the free-flying +area under five thousand. Everywhere were mail planes, express and +passenger ships taking off for the transcontinental day run, and +private planes scattering to the smaller landing areas among the +flashing lights of the flat-topped business blocks. Among them Smithy +threaded his way toward the green-lighted transfer zone, where he +spiraled upward. + +At ten thousand he was on his course. He set the gyro-control which +would fly the ship more surely than any human hands, and the air-speed +indicator crept up to the four hundred and fifty miles an hour that +Culver had promised. Not till then did he give the man in the forward +cockpit the details of his "nightmare." + +He had not finished answering the other's incredulous questions when +he throttled down to slow cruising speed and nosed the ship toward a +distant expanse of sage-blurred sand. + +Outside the restricted metropolitan area he had already dropped out of +the chill wind that struck them at ten thousand. Behind them and off +to the right was the gray rampart of the Sierra. Ahead a rough circle +of darker hills enclosed the great bowl he had learned to know as +Tonah Basin. + + * * * * * + +Some feeling of unreality in his own experiences must have crept into +his mind; unconsciously he had been questioning his own sanity. Now, +at sight of the sandy waste where he and Rawson had labored, with the +dark slopes of desolate craters looming ahead and a blot of burned +wreckage directly below to mark the site of their camp, the horrible +reality of it gripped him again. + +He could not speak at first. The air of the five-thousand level was +not uncomfortably warm, but Smithy was feeling again the baking heat +of that desert land; again he was with Rawson in the volcanic crater; +Dean was calling to him, warning him.... + +A sharp question from Culver was repeated twice before Smithy could +reply. + +He side-slipped in above the crater's ragged rim, heedless of +down-drafts--the power of the DeGrosse motor would pull them out of +anything in a ten-thousand-foot vertical climb if need arose. Smithy +was pointing toward a confusion of shining black rock. + +"Over there," he told Culver. Then he was shouting into the telephone +transmitter. "It's open," he said. "That's where Dean went down--and +there they are! Look, man, there--there!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +_Emergency Order_ + + +The throat of the old volcano was a pit of blackness in the midst of +gray ash and the red-yellow of cinders. Beside it were other flecks of +color: red, moving bodies; metal, that twinkled brightly under the +desert sun--and in an instant they were gone. Nor did Smithy, throwing +the thundering plane close over that place, know how near he had +passed to sudden, invisible death. Rugged pinnacles of rock were +ahead. The plane under Smithy's hands vaulted over them and roared on +above the desert. + +"Did you see them?" Smithy was shouting. + +The man in the forward cockpit turned to face his pilot. "I am +apologizing, Smith, for all the things I have been thinking and +haven't said. We've got a job on our hands. Now let's find that fool +sheriff who thinks he's hunting for drunken Indians. We must warn +him." + +Smithy wondered at the wisps of blue smoke still rising from the ruins +of Seven Palms as he drove in above it. It seemed years since he had +left the Basin, yet the wreckage of this little town, only five miles +outside, still smoldered. + +Colonel Culver was shouting to him. "East," he said. "Swing east. +There's fighting over there." Then, in his usual cool tone: "I'll take +the ship, Smith. Give then a burst or two from up here--perhaps the +sheriff can use a little help." + +Across the yellow sand ran a desert road. Ten miles away black smoke +clouds were lifting. Smithy knew there had been a little settlement +there. A dozen houses, perhaps, and a gasoline station. At half that +distance the clear sunlight showed moving objects on the sand: +automobiles, smaller dots that were running them. They came suddenly +to sharp visibility as the plane drew near. Tiny bursts of white meant +rifle fire. + +They were a thousand feet up and close when Smithy saw the first car +vanish in flame. Others followed swiftly. Men were falling. A dozen of +them had made up the sheriff's posse, and now, like the cars, they, +too, burst into flame and either vanished utterly or, like living +torches, were cast down upon the sand. + +Still no sign of the enemy, more than the ripping stab of green fire +from a sand dune at one side. They were over and past before Smithy, +looking back, saw the red ones leap out into view. + + * * * * * + +Culver must have seen them in the same instant. He throttled down to a +safe banking speed. Opened full, the DeGrosse would have whipped them +around in a turn that would have meant instant death. From five miles +distant they shot in on a long slant. Smithy's hands were off the +stick. It was Culver's ship now. + +He saw the man peering through his sights, then the roar of the motor +held other, sharper sounds. Thin flames were stabbing through the +propeller disk, and he knew that the bow guns were sending messengers +on ahead where red figures waited on the sand. + +Their trajectory flattened. Culver half rolled the ship as they sped +overhead. "He wants a look at them," Smithy was thinking. Then a blast +of heat struck him full in the face. + +It was Smithy's hand on the stick that righted the ship; only the +instant response of the big DeGrosse motor tore them up and away from +the sands that were reaching for those wings. + +His face was seared, but the pain of it was forgotten in the knowledge +that their drunken, twisting flight had whipped out the fire licking +back from the forward cockpit. He saw Culver's head, fallen awkwardly +to one side. The helmet in one part was charred to a crisp. + +He leveled off. He was thinking: "Another man gone! Can't I ever fight +back? If I only had a gun!" Then he knew he was looking at the pistol +grip, where Colonel Culver's brown hand had brought an awkward weapon +to life. His lips twisted to a whimsical smile, though his eyes still +held the same cold fury, as he whispered: "And I don't even know that +the damn thing's loaded--but I'm going to find out!" + + * * * * * + +They were clustered on the sands below him as he roared overhead. He +was flying at two thousand, the throttle open full. Beside the ship a +gun swung its long barrel downward. It sputtered almost +soundlessly--but where it passed, the sand rose up in spouting +fountains. + +But his wild speed made the gunfire almost useless. The shell-bursts +were spaced too far apart; they straddled the blot of figures. + +He came back at five thousand feet, slowly--until the ship lurched, +and he saw the right wing tip vanish in a shower of molten metal. He +threw the ship over and away from the invisible beam; the plane +writhed and twisted across the last half mile of sky. He was over them +when he pulled into a tight spiral, then he swung the pistol grip that +controlled the gun until the dot in the crystal was merged with the +target of clustering red forms. The gun sputtered. + +Below the plane, the quiet desert heaved its smooth surface +convulsively into the air. Even above the roar of the motor Smithy +heard the terrific thunder of that one long explosion. + +Above the rim of the forward cockpit Culver's head rolled uneasily; +his voice, thick and uncertain, came back through the phone; and +later--only a matter of minutes later, though fifty miles away--Smithy +set the plane down on a level expanse of sand and tore frantically at +his belt. Colonel Culver was weakly raising his head. + + * * * * * + +"What hit us?" he demanded when Smithy got to him. "Did I crash?" He +looked about him with dazed eyes from which he never would have seen +again, but for the protection of his goggles. + +"Fire," said Smithy tersely. "They did it, the devils, and it wasn't a +flame-thrower, either. There wasn't a flash of their cursed green +light. It just flicked us for a second. You got the worst of it. Your +half roll saved us. That thing, whatever it was, would have ripped our +left wing off in a second." + +He was looking at the forward cockpit where the metal fuselage was +melted. The leather cushioning around the edge was black and charred. +Culver's helmet had protected him, but half of his face was seared as +if it had been struck by a white flame. + +"But we got some of them: they know we can hit back...." Smithy began, +but knew he was speaking to deaf ears. Again his passenger had lapsed +into unconsciousness. + +Quickly he disconnected their own radio receiver and threw on the +emergency radio siren. Ahead of them for a hundred miles an invisible +beam was carrying the discordant blast. Then, with throttle open full, +regardless of levels and of air traffic that tore frenziedly from his +path, he drove straight for the home field. + + * * * * * + +In the office of the Governor, the radio newscaster was announcing +last-minute items of interest. The Governor switched off the +instrument as Smithy entered, supporting the tall figure of Colonel +Culver, whose face and head were swathed in bandages. Culver had +insisted upon accompanying him for the rendering of their report, +though Smithy had to do the talking for both of them. + +He outlined their experience in brief sentences. "And now," he was +saying grimly, "you can go as far as you please, Governor. You've got +a man's sized fight on your hands. We don't know how many there are of +them. We don't know how fast they'll spread out, but--" + +A shrill wail interrupted him. From the newscasting instrument came a +flash of red that filled the room. The crystal, the emergency call, +installed on all radios within the past year and never yet used, was +clamoring for the country's attention. + +Governor Drake sprang to switch it on, and tried to explain to Smithy +as he did so. "It's out of my hands now," he said. "Washington has--" +Then the radio came on with a voice which shouted: + +"Emergency order. All aircraft take notice. Mole-men"--Smithy started +at the sound of the word; it was the name he had given them +himself--"Mole-men are invading Western states. A new race. They have +come from within the earth. In Arizona, three ships of the +Transcontinental Day Line, Southern Division, have been destroyed with +the loss of all passengers and crew. Shattered in air. + +"It is war, war with an unknown race. Goldfield, Nevada, is in ruins. +Heavy loss of life. Federal Government taking control. Air-Control +Board orders traffic to avoid following areas...." + +There followed a list of locations, while still the red crystal blazed +its warning across the land and to all aircraft in the skies. Southern +California, Arizona, Nevada--Southern Transcontinental Routes closed; +all except military aircraft grounded in restricted areas. + + * * * * * + +Smithy's excitement had left him. In his mind he was looking far off, +deep under the surface of the world. "They've been there," he said +quietly, "thousands of years. A new race--and they've just now learned +of this other world outside. Three ships downed! They picked them off +in the air just as they tried to do with us. I knew we had a fight on +our hands." + +His voice died to silence in the room where now the new announcer was +giving a list of the dead--a room where men were speechless before an +emergency no man could have foreseen. But Smithy's eyes, gazing far +off, saw nothing of that room. Again he was seated on an outthrust +point of rock, Dean Rawson beside him, and from the black depths +beneath a man's voice was rising clearly, mockingly it seemed, in +song: + + "You're pokin' through the crust of hell + And braggin' too damn loud of it, + For, when you get to hell, you'll find + The devil there to pay!" + +"The devil is there to pay," Smithy repeated softly. He leaned across +and placed one hand on Colonel Culver's knee. "With your assistance, +Colonel, I'd like to go down there and find him. You and I, we know +the way--we'll organize an expedition. Maybe we can settle that debt." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +_The Lake of Fire_ + + +Before a barrier of gold, waist-high, Dean Rawson stood tense and +rigid. Behind him the great cave-room swarmed with warriors, leaders, +doubtless, of the unholy hordes. But beyond the barrier were the real +leaders of the Mole-men tribes--Phee-e-al, ruler in chief, and his +clustering guard of high priests. In the flooding light from the wall, +their eyes were circles of dead-white skin. A black speck glinted +wickedly in the center of each. + +Phee-e-al was speaking. His artificially whitened face grimaced +hideously; the shrill whistling voice made no comprehensible sound. +But in some manner Rawson gathered a dim realization of what his +gestures meant. + +Phee-e-al pointed at the captive; and one lean hand, with talons more +suggestive of a bird of prey than of a human hand, pointed downward. +"Gevarro," he said. The word was repeated many times in the course of +his whistling talk. + +"Gevarro"--what did it mean? Then Rawson remembered. It was the word +he had heard in his dreams, the name of the lake of fire. + +The voices of the priests rose in a shrill chorus of protests, and +even Phee-e-al stood silent. They crowded about their ruler, and +Rawson knew they were demanding him for themselves. Then the one who +still held a human body in his arms sprang forward and his long talons +worked unspeakable mutilation upon the body and face. + +Rawson averted his eyes from the ghastly spectacle. For, swiftly, he +was seeing something more horrifying than this desecration of a dead +body; he was seeing himself, still living, tortured and torn by those +same beastly hands. The dead face of Sheriff Downer was staring at him +from red, eyeless sockets as with one leap Rawson threw himself over +the golden wall. Ten leaping strides away was his gun. In that instant +of realization, he knew why his life had been spared. + +In the room of fire he had destroyed their priest. They had saved him +for further torture. + + * * * * * + +To get his hands on the gun, to die fighting--the thought was an +unspoken prayer in his mind. Behind him the room echoed with demoniac +shrieks. Before him was the metal stand. His outstretched hands fell +just short of the blue .45 as he crashed to the floor. The copper ones +were upon him. + +Half stunned by the fall, he hardly knew when they dragged him to his +feet. He was facing the golden figure of Phee-e-al, but now the +ruler's indecision had vanished. He was exercising his full authority +and even Rawson's throbbing brain comprehended the doom that was being +pronounced. + +"Gevarro!" he was shrieking. "Gevarro!" + +Beside him a priest swept the metal table clear. Rawson's clothing, +the gun, the radio receiver, all were snatched up and hurled into one +of the massive chests. Phee-e-al was still shouting shrill commands. +An instant later Rawson was lifted in air, rushed to the barrier and +thrown bodily from the sacred premises he had invaded. Then the hands +of the red guard closed about him before he could struggle to his +feet. A shining object swung down above his head. It was the last he +knew. + + * * * * * + +His dreams were of falling. Always when he half roused to +consciousness he was aware of that smooth, even descent, and he knew +it had continued for hours. + +Once he saw black walls slipping smoothly past, upward, always upward. +Gropingly he tried to marshal his facts into some understandable +sequence. He was falling, falling toward the center of the earth, and +this that he saw was not rock, or any metal such as he knew. + +"It's all different," he told himself dully, "new kind of matter. Rock +would flow; this stands the pressure." But he knew the air pressure +had built up tremendously. The blood was pounding in his ears. He +wanted to sleep. + +It was the heat that awakened him. The air was stifling him, +suffocating. He was struggling to move his heavy body, fighting +against this nightmare of heat when he opened his eyes and knew that +he was in a place of light. First to be seen were walls, no longer +black, no longer even with the characteristics of rock, or even metal. +Here, as Rawson had sensed, was new material to form the core of a +world. It would have been red in an ordinary light. It was transformed +to orange, strangely terrifying in the blazing flood of yellow +brilliance that came from the tunnel's end. + +Rawson's brain was not working clearly. An unendurable weight seemed +pressing upon him--the air pressure, he thought, to which he had not +yet become accustomed. And the air, itself, hot--hot! + +A breeze blew steadily past toward that place of yellow horror at the +tunnel's end. Yellow, that reflected light; but its source was a +searing, dazzling white in the one brief instant when Rawson dared +turn his eyes. + +Hands held him erect, red, gripping hands. One, whose body seemed +molten copper in that fierce glare, approached. His hand described a +circle over Rawson's bare chest. Straight lines radiated out from the +circle, lines of stabbing pain for the helpless man. He had seen the +same emblem in the temple of fire, again in the big room where +Phee-e-al had stood. + + * * * * * + +The living sacrifice was prepared. Burned into his bare flesh was the +emblem of their legendary sun-god. The priests, their bodies coated +with a flashing coppery film that must somehow be heat-resistant, had +him in their grasp. + +The red warriors had fallen back. Then Phee-e-al appeared; he joined +the march of death of which Dean Rawson formed the head. Voices were +chanting--somewhere a trumpet blared. Then Rawson, moving like one in +a dream, knew the priests were guiding him toward that waiting, +incredible heat. + +The tunnel's end was near. About him was an inferno where heat and hot +colors blended. The whole world seemed aflame, but beyond the tunnel's +end was a seething pit upon which no human eyes could look and live. + +One glimpse only of the unbearable whiteness beneath which was the +lake of fire, then the chains of his stupor broke and Dean Rawson +struggled frenziedly in the grip of two copper giants. + +They had been chanting a shrill monotonous refrain. They ceased now as +they fought to throw the man out past that last ten paces where even +they dared not go. + +Rawson was beyond conscious thought. Eyes closed against the +unendurable heat, he fought blindly, desperately, then knew his last +strength was going from him. Still struggling he opened his eyes; some +thought of meeting death face to face compelled him. + + * * * * * + +A hideous coppery face glared close into his own. Miraculously it +vanished, disappeared in a cloud of white. Then the blazing walls were +gone--there was nothing in all the world but rushing clouds of +whiteness, shrieking winds, the roar of an explosion--and cold, so +biting that it burned like heat. + +Vaguely he wondered at the hands that still clutched at him. Dimly he +sensed other bodies close to his, other hands that tore him free where +he lay, still struggling with the priests, upon the floor. A narrow +opening was in the wall, a blur of darkness in the billowing white +clouds. They were dragging him into it, those others who held him, and +they were white--white as the vapor that whirled about him. + +Ahead, the girl of his former dreams was guiding him, her hand cool +and soft in his. Others helped him; he ran stumblingly where they led +down a steep and narrow way. + +The White Ones! In a vision they had reached out to him before. Was +this, too, a dream? Was it only the delirium of death? That burst of +cold--had it truly been liquid fires, wrapping him around? + +Dean Rawson could not be sure. He knew only that his fate lay wholly +in the hands of these White Ones--and that hideous eyes in the coppery +face of a priest had glared at them as they fled. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +_The Metal Shell_ + +[Illustration: _She was motioning for him to follow._] + +[Sidenote: The Voice of the Mountain heralds Rawson's Messianic coming +to the White Ones in their hour of need.] + + +Dean Rawson had passed through a nerve-racking experience. It was not +a question of courage--Rawson had plenty of that--but there are times +when a man's nervous system is shocked almost to insensibility by +sheer horror. Not at once did he realize what was happening. + +Perhaps it was the sound of pursuit that jarred him out of the fog +clouding all his thoughts and perceptions. It was like the sound of +fighting animals--cat-beasts--whose snarls had risen to screaming, +squalling shrieks of rage. It was sheer beastliness, the din that +echoed through that narrow passage. + +Ahead of him the girl was running. She held a light in her hand. Soft +wrappings of cloth hung loosely from her waist; like her golden hair, +it was flung backward in the strong draft of air against which they +were struggling. She was outlined clearly before the red, rock-like +masses where her light was falling; she was running swiftly, +gracefully, like a wild, woodland nymph. + +Two men, their milk-white bodies naked but for the thick folds of +their loin cloths, were beside Rawson, helping him along. Two others +followed. And, by their haste and their odd whispered words of alarm, +he knew that pursuit had not been expected; they must have thought to +get away unobserved. + +Rawson felt his strength returning. He shook himself free from those +who tried to aid him. He was amazed at how easily he ran: his weight +was a mere nothing; his efforts were expended in driving his body +against the blast of wind. The air seemed dense, thick; he had almost +the feeling of forcing himself through water. + +Ahead of him the girl darted abruptly through a narrow crack in the +wall. Rawson followed--and then began a wild race through a network of +connecting passages, a vast labyrinth of caves, more like fractures in +this strange red substance which Rawson could think of only as rock, +for lack of a more accurate name, until at last there was no sound +except that of their own hurrying feet. + + * * * * * + +They stopped and stood panting in one of the wider passages. He heard +nothing but the endless rush of the wind. For the first time Rawson +became aware of his own almost naked condition. + +The mole-men had prepared him for the sacrifice. They had decked him +with a loin cloth of woven gold. It felt cold to the touch, and Rawson +did not doubt its being made of fine threads of the precious metal. +About his neck hung a gold chain with a heavy object suspended; he +tore it off, and found again a representation of a golden sun. The +copper priests had arrayed him to meet their fire-god, and again +Rawson wondered at the emblem they employed. + +"What in the name of the starlit heavens," he demanded silently of +himself, "could this buried race know of the sun?" + +The others were watching him. In the glow of that strange light held +by the girl he saw them smiling. They were congratulating one another +with odd, soft-syllabled words. And Rawson, ignorant of their tongue, +was mute, when his whole soul cried out to thank them. + +He gripped the hands of the men. They were as tall as himself, their +gaze level with his own. Their faces were human, friendly; their eyes +sparkled and smiled into his. Then he turned to the girl. + +She had seen the method of greeting this stranger employed. She +extended her hand--a white hand, slim, soft, cool. And Rawson, choking +with emotion, knowing that here was the one who had first seen him and +who had returned to save him, a stranger, bent low above that hand, +held in his own so rough and burned, and pressed his lips to the +slender fingers in a quick caress. + +When he raised his head she was looking at him oddly; her eyes were +deep, serious and unsmiling. He wondered if, blunderingly, he had +offended her. He could not know; he did not know their customs. + +Again the slim girlish figure turned; her jeweled breast-plates +flashed as she led the others on where always the way led upward and +the wind pressed against them unceasingly. + + * * * * * + +The White Ones wore sandals that seemed woven of glass. Rawson's bare +feet were bruised and sore, for those narrower clefts had been paved +only with broken fragments of the red walls. He moved less easily now. +The heavy, beating air tired him; the lightness of his body made it +all the more difficult to fight the steady wind. Still he followed the +white figure of the girl where her light was flashing on endless walls +of red. + +In his ears a new sound was registering. Above the rush of the air, +that now was soft and warm, a new note had risen to a hollow, +unremitting roar. He knew that for some time he had been hearing it +faintly. It grew louder, one long, steady, unchanging note, as they +advanced. It was a deafening reverberation that seemed shaking the +whole earth when they came at last to an open room. + +It beat upon him thunderously. As deep as the deepest tone of a mighty +organ, like a thousand gigantic organs welded in one, it roared and +shook him through and through with its single note. + +Exhausted by his wild flight, surrounded by this maelstrom of sound, +he sank to the floor and let his laboring lungs have their way. But +his eyes were searching the big room. + + * * * * * + +The great cave was too regularly formed to have had a natural origin. +The light that the girl had carried gave only feeble illumination in +so great a space that had so evidently been hollowed out of the solid +red matter. + +The light flashed here and there as the girl and her companions moved +away. They were circling the room. Rawson saw the irregular outlines +of entrances to many dark passages like the one through which they had +come. The red rock-mass seemingly had been riven and torn, and +apparently in front of each opening the white figures fought against +the rush of outgoing air. Rawson felt the same current sweeping and +whirling gustily about him. + +Now his companions were across the room, and between him and them in +the center of the floor he saw the mouth of a black well, a pit some +twenty or more feet across. Directly above, where the red rock stuff +formed a domed ceiling, he found a counterpart of the pit +below--another great bore or open shaft, roughly circular. Apparently +it went straight on up and was a continuation of that lower pit. + +"This room was cut out," Rawson was thinking, "by the white people or +the mole-men--Lord knows who, or when, or why. Cut out around this big +shaft...." + +His thoughts trailed off. Even thinking seemed impossible under the +battering of the roaring noise that pounded about him. Then another +thought pierced through the bedlam. He had found the source of the +uproar. + + * * * * * + +That upper shaft, the hole that went on up, must be plugged. There was +no outlet that way, and this air that drove endlessly upward from the +room must be coming from the lower shaft. It was striking up into that +upper cavity. + +An organ pipe, truly. But whence came the unending blast of air to +keep that gigantic instrument in operation? Rawson dropped to his +knees and crept slowly across the floor toward the pit. He must test +his theory--see if that was where the air was driving in. + +Just short of the brink he stopped. The girl had called--a cry of +alarm. She was running swiftly toward him, circling the pit. And +Rawson, as she tugged at him, trying to draw him back, knew that she +had mistaken his motive. She had thought he was going to cast himself +down. + +He did not need to go farther. He was close to the edge. And now, even +above that roaring sound he heard the rush of the column of air. He +seated himself on the stone floor and smiled up at the girl +reassuringly. Her eyes that had been dark with fear changed swiftly to +a look so sweetly, beautifully tender that Dean Rawson found himself +thrilled and shaken by an emotion that set his nerves to quivering +even more than did the sonorous vibration from above. + +Her companions had joined her. Dean saw her eyes regarding them +steadily. Then, as if reaching some sudden final conclusion in her +own mind, she dropped swiftly to her knees beside him, raised one of +his hands in hers and pressed her soft lips against it. + +And Dean, even had he known their language, could not in that moment +have spoken. There had been something in the look of her eyes and the +soft touch of her lips that of themselves went far beyond words. + +"You darling," he was whispering softly to himself as the girl sprang +to her feet and walked swiftly away, the others following. + +"An angel, no less--down in this damned place!" + + * * * * * + +He wondered, as he watched the flickering light far across the room, +what destination they could be bound for. Surely no one so radiantly +beautiful could inhabit a world of endless dungeons like that where +the mole-men lived. But if not that, then what? Where would their next +journey take them? And in what direction would they go? + +Again Rawson's thoughts were submerged beneath his own weariness. This +air that beat about him had seemed cool after the terrific heat that +drove in off the Lake of Fire. Now he realized that the air itself was +hot. His one spurt of strength and energy had been expended. + +He watched the men disappear into one of the passages, but he roused +himself when they returned. They were clinging to a strange device, a +metal cylinder that floated in air above their heads like a dirigible +on end. It was about eight feet in diameter and some fourteen feet in +height; both upper and lower ends were rounded. A cage of parallel +bars enclosed it from end to end; like springs of steel they extended +from top to bottom where they curved in and were attached to the +rounded ends. + + * * * * * + +Rawson sat up quickly and stared in startled amazement at the thing +glinting like polished aluminum in the light. And his engineer's mind +responded as much to that smooth finish and the evident workmanship +that had entered into the making of this thing as it did to the object +itself. + +The girl placed her light on the floor. She, too, reached up and +gripped a bar of the protecting cage to which the others were holding. +With her added weight and strength they drew it down almost to the +floor. Rawson knew by their efforts that they were dealing with +something actually buoyant, a metal balloon. One of the men, still +putting his weight on the bars, reached in and opened a door in the +smooth shell. He stepped inside, and a moment later the big shell +dropped to the floor and, still vertical, stood on the lower rounded +end of the protecting cage, rocking gently as the hot whirling wind +hit it. + +They were communicating among themselves by signs. Rawson saw them +motioning. Speech was useless in that roaring, pandemonium-filled +room. + +She was motioning for him to follow. One of the men circled that +central pit, came beside Rawson and helped him to his feet, steadying +him as they crossed the room. The girl had entered the big metal +shell. Dean saw the glow of her torch shining through the open doorway +and through two other windows of crystal glass. + +The big room had grown dimmer. The high ceiling was lost in murky +shadows. All the room was dark save where that light struck upon walls +and floor to make them glow blood-red. The waiting lighted shell +seemed a haven of refuge. To get inside, close the door, lock out some +of this unendurable, battering sound--it was all Rawson asked, all he +could think. + +The door closed. He was within the shell, standing on a smooth metal +floor. The others were beside him. Dully he wondered what wild +adventure was ahead. + + * * * * * + +He had expected--he hardly knew what. But there should have been +machinery of some sort. If this weird balloon thing was actually to +carry them, there must be some mechanism, some propelling power. And +instead he saw nothing but the shining walls of the circular room and +at the exact center, reaching from floor to ceiling, a six-inch metal +post that thickened to a boxlike form on a level with his eyes. There +was a plate on the side of that box, a cover, and clamps that held it +in place, and on an adjoining side two little levers, one near the top +of the box, the other near the bottom. + +His one all-inclusive glance showed him bull's-eye windows in the +ceiling. There were more of them in the floor. One curved bar, +circling the room, was mounted on brackets against the wall. They were +telling him by signs that he was to put his hands on it and hang on. +One of the men was beside that central post. He too gripped at a +projecting hand-hold. His other hand was on the lower lever. + +Rawson knew his disappointment was unreasonable, but his weary mind +was tired of mysteries. Some understandable bit of machinery would +have been reassuring. And then in his next thought he asked himself +what difference did it make. If this childish balloon thing were +really capable of carrying them somewhere, what of it? It could only +mean more of this hideous inner world that grew more unbearably +fantastic with each new experience. + +His life had been saved. True, but for what end? The girl's eyes were +upon him, reading the expression on his face. She smiled +encouragingly. Then Rawson's hands tightened upon the metal bar. The +man who stood by the central post had moved one lever the merest +trifle. Rawson felt the floor lifting beneath him. Then the shell, +like a bubble of metal, pitched and tossed as the powerful air +currents caught it. + + * * * * * + +His own lightness saved him from injury. He gripped the bar and held +himself free of the wall. The round top of their strange craft grated +against the domed roof. Then again the ship steadied and seemed +motionless, and Rawson knew they had slipped up into the still air of +that upper shaft. + +For one wild instant, filled with impossible hope, Rawson saw this as +a means of ascent to his own world. Then reason tore those wild hopes +to shreds. + +"It's closed up above," he thought. "It must be. That's why it sounded +that way. That's why the air drove off through those side passages." + +The next instant held no time for thought. Rawson's whole attention +was concentrated upon the bar to which he clung. For, quicker than +thought, the metal shell, the little cylindrical world in which he and +these others were, fell swiftly beneath them. + +His body twisted in mid-air. He knew the others were being thrown in +the same manner. Then, what an instant before had been the ceiling was +now a floor beneath his feet, pressing up against him and giving him +weight--and by the whistling rush of the air that tore past their +shell he knew they had fallen with marvelous swiftness straight down +through the throat of that lower shaft. + +And now what had been down was up. The ceiling of this strange room +was now their floor, but Rawson was not deceived. "Acceleration," he +said. "It's crowding us. The shell tends to fall faster than we do. +It's like an elevator traveling downward at a swifter rate than a free +falling body." + + * * * * * + +He had glimpsed the glassy-side of that well into which he knew they +had been flung. He knew that the shrieks that filled the room time and +again were caused by the touching of their shell's guiding and +protecting bars against one glassy wall. Those sounds came always from +the same side and Rawson found momentary satisfaction in his own +understanding of the phenomenon. + +"We're falling free," he argued within his own mind, "falling toward +the center of the earth. And a falling body wouldn't follow a vertical +course. It would tend to hug against one wall." And by that he knew +something of their speed. The necessity for it was apparent a moment +later. + +Above his head the bull's-eyes pointing forward in the direction of +their flight were faintly red. Swiftly they changed to crimson. Rawson +was standing beside a window in the wall of their craft. That, too, +grew quickly to an area of dazzling brightness. Slowly the heat struck +in. The air in the little room was stifling. He saw the girl turn her +head and give a sharp order. + +The man by the central post responded with another slight movement of +the lever. Beneath Rawson's feet the floor pressed upward in a surge +of speed that bent his knees and bore him downward. Under his hands +the rod to which he clung was hot. The shining walls were dimly +glowing. They were being hurled through the very heart of hell.... + + * * * * * + +And then it was past. The crimson horror beyond those windows grew +dull and then black. In the blunt nose of their craft a tiny crevice +must have opened. The one who drove that projectile in its shrieking +flight had touched another control that Rawson had not before seen. +And with a piercing shriek a thin jet of cold air drove down into the +hot room. + +No wine could have been one-half so potent. That thin jet filled the +room with buffeting whirlwinds that grew quickly cold. + +Then their speed was checked. Abruptly Rawson was weightless, his body +hanging in air, moved only as he moved his hand upon the bar. Only a +few feet away was the body of the girl floating weightless like +himself. The others were shouting loud words of satisfaction, but her +face was turned toward Rawson, her eyes were smiling into his; while, +outside the little shell that fell in meteor flight, were only +shrieking winds and the blackness into which they plunged. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +_Gor_ + + +Through an ordinary experience, Dean Rawson, like any other man, would +have kept unconscious measurement of the passing time. An hour, no +matter how crowded, would still have been an hour that his mind could +measure and grasp. But now he had no least idea of the hours or +minutes that had marked their flight. Each lagging second was an age +in passing. Even the flashing thoughts that drove swiftly through his +mind seemed slow and laborious. Painstakingly he marshaled his few +facts. + +"They know what they're about, that's one thing dead sure. They're +onto their job, and they've got something here that beats anything +we've ever had." He mentally nailed that one fact down and passed on +to the next. "And that's the bow end of our ship, up there." He looked +above him at a dented place in the ceiling, the ceiling that had been +the floor of the room when first he stepped into it. "There isn't any +up or down any more. I've been flipped back and forth every time we +slowed down or accelerated until I don't know where I'm at, but I saw +that dented plate in the floor when I got in and we started falling in +that direction. But whether we're falling toward the center of the +earth still or whether we passed the center back there at that hot +spot and now this crazy, senseless shell is flying on and up, perhaps +these people know--I don't!" + +Then fact No. 3. "They live somewhere inside here. They're taking me +there, of course. It must mean there's a race of them--and they don't +like the mole-men. They know the way back, too, and if they'll help +me.... Perhaps the fighting's not over yet!" + +Through more endless, age-long seconds there passed through Rawson's +mind entrancing visions. An army of men like these White Ones, himself +at their head. They were armed with strange weapons; they were +invading the mole-men's world.... + +The girl was reaching toward him. She laid one hand upon his, then +pointed overhead. + + * * * * * + +Rawson looked quickly above. The glowing bull's-eyes startled him, +then he knew it was white-light he was seeing, not the red threat of +glowing rock. Their speed had been steadily cut down as the air +pressure lessened. "They're decompressing," he thought. "They're +working slowly into the lesser pressure." + +The passing air no longer shrieked insanely. Above its soft rushing +sound he heard the girl's voice; it was clear, vibrant with happiness. +Her hand closed convulsively over his; her eyes beneath their long +lashes smiled unspoken words of welcome, of comradeship, and of +something more. + +Within their room her light, which at close range seemed only a +slender bar of metal with a brilliantly glowing end, had been clamped +in a bracket against the wall. The illumination had seemed brilliant, +now suddenly it was pale and dim. + +Through the bull's-eyes above, a brighter light was shining, clear and +golden, like the light of the sun on a brilliant and cloudless day. +And to Rawson, who felt that he had spent a lifetime in the gloomy +dungeons of that inner world, that flooding brilliance was more than +mere light. It was the promise of release, the very essence of hope. +His eyes clung to these little round windows; then the larger glass +beside him blazed forth with the bright sunlight of an open world that +was unbearable to one who had lived so long in darkness. + +He held tightly to that slim hand that remained so confidingly within +his own. + +"It isn't true," Rawson was telling himself frantically. "It can't be +true. It must be a delusion, another dream." + +He gripped the girl's hand in what must have been a painful clasp. He +told himself that she at least was real. Her lovely face was before +him when at last he could bear to open his eyes. + + * * * * * + +About him were the others. The cylinder rested firmly upon a surface +of pale-rose quartz. Inside the shell he saw the floor where he had +stood, and with that he added one more fact to the few he had gotten +together. There was no dent in the floor. The shell's position was +reversed. What had been up was now down. Rawson knew he was standing +firmly, with what seemed his normal earth weight, upon a smooth +surface of rock; he knew that he was standing head down as compared +with his position at the beginning of their flight--as compared, too, +with the way he had stood in the mole-men's world and in his own world +up above. + +"I've passed the center of the world." The words were ringing in his +brain. And then reason shot in a quick denial. "You're as heavy as you +were on earth," he told himself. "You'd have to go through and on to +the other side, the opposite surface of the world, before your weight +would come back like that!" + +"What could it mean?" he was demanding as his eyes came back from the +machine and swept around over a gorgeous, glittering panorama of +crystal mountains, rose and white. Fields of strange plants, vividly +green; a whole world that rioted madly in a luxury of color. Before +him the girl stood smiling. Every line of her quivering figure spoke +eloquently of her joy in seeing this world through Rawson's eyes. + + * * * * * + +A man was approaching, a man like the others, yet whose oval face +strangely resembled that of the girl. She led Rawson toward him, then +Rawson, stopping, jerked backward in uncontrollable amazement, for the +tall man drawing near had spoken. His lips were open, moving, and from +them came sounds which to Rawson were absolutely unbelievable: + +"Stranger," said the newcomer, "in the name of the Holy Mountain, and +in the Mountain's language and words, I bid you welcome." + +And Rawson, too stunned for coherent thought, could only stammer in +what was half a shout: "But you're speaking my language. You're +talking the way we talk on earth. Am I crazy? Stark, raving crazy?" + +But even the sound of the man's voice could not have prepared him for +what followed. There was amazement written on the face of the man. And +the girl who stood beside him--her eyes that had been smiling were +wide and staring in utter fear. Then she and the man and the other +white figures nearby dropped suddenly to kneel humbly before him. +Their faces were hidden from him, covered by their hands as they bent +their heads low. He heard the man's voice: + +"He speaks with the tongue of the Mountain! He comes from the Land of +the Sun, from Lah-o-tah, at the top of the world! And I, Gor, am +permitted to hear his voice!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +_The Dance of Death_ + + +Through an airplane's thick windows of shatter-proof glass, so tough +and resilient that a machine-gun bullet would only make a temporary +dent, the midday sun flashed brightly as the big ship rolled. Along +each side of the small room, high up under the curve of the cabin +roof, windows were ranged. Others like them were in the floor. And, +above, the same glass made a transparent dome from which an observer +could see on all sides. + +Outside was the thunderous roar of ten giant motors, but inside the +cabin--the fire-control room of a dreadnought of the air--that blast +of sound became more a reverberation and a trembling than actual +noise. + +Certainly the sound of motors and of slashing propellers, as the +battle plane roared up into the sky, did not prevent free +conversation among the three men in the room. Yet there was neither +laughter nor idle talk. + +At a built-in desk, before a battery of instruments, sat Farrell, the +captain of the ship. Farther aft, in solidly anchored chairs, Colonel +Culver and Smithy were seated. Occasionally the captain spoke into a +transmitter, cutting in by phone on different stations about the ship. + +"Check up on that right-wing gun, Sergeant--number two of the top +wing-battery. Recoil mechanism is reported stiff.... Tell Chicago, +Lieutenant, we will want one thousand gallons in the air--gas only--no +oil needed.... Gun room? Have the gun crews get some sleep. They'll +have to stand by later on...." + +Colonel Culver spoke musingly. "Guerilla warfare, the hardest kind to +meet." + + * * * * * + +Smithy nodded absently. He rose and stared from one of the side +windows that was just level with his eyes. He could see nothing but +the broad expanse of wing, a sheet of smooth gray metal. Along its +leading edge was a row of shimmering disks where great propellers +whirled. From the top of the wing a two-inch Rickert recoilless thrust +forth its snout; it rose in air till the whole weapon was visible, +then settled again and buried itself inside the wing. + +They were testing a gun. Smithy knew that inside that wing section +were other guns, and men, and smoothly running motors. The whole ship +was only a giant flying wing of which their own central section was +merely a thickening. + +He looked down through a bull's-eye in the floor. The city they had +just left was beneath them. Washington, the nation's capital; the +golden dome of the Capitol Building was slipping swiftly astern. Only +then did he make a belated reply to Culver's statement. + +"Well," he said shortly, "they'll have to meet it their own way. We +told them all we knew. And a lot of good that did--not!" + +"Five days!" said Culver. "It seems more like five years since the +devils first came out. Nobody knows where they will hit next. But +they're working north--and there's no trouble in telling where they've +been." + +Smithy's voice was hot in reply, hot with the intense anger of a +young, aggressive man when confronted by the ponderous motion of a big +organization getting slowly under way. + +"If only we'd gone down underground," he exclaimed; "carried the fight +to them! They live there--there must be a whole world underground. We +could have carried in power lines, lighting the place as we went +along. We could have fought 'em with gas. We'd have paid for it, sure +we would, but we'd have given them enough hell to think of down below +so they wouldn't raise so much of it up above. + +"But no! We had to fight according to the textbooks. And those red +devils don't fight that way; they never learned the rules." + + * * * * * + +"Guerilla warfare," Colonel Culver repeated. "There are certain +difficulties about fighting enemies you can't see." + +"They're clever," Smithy admitted. "We taught them their lesson down +there in the desert--they've never been seen in daylight since. Out at +night--and their invisible heat-rays setting fire to a city a mile +away, then mopping up with their green flame-throwers if anyone's +left. They pick our planes out of the sky even when they're flying +without lights. Darkness means nothing to them! It was murder to send +troops in against them, troops wiped out to a man! Artillery--that's +no good either when we don't know how many of the devils there are, or +where they are. There's no profit in shelling the place when the +brutes have gone back underground." + +Colonel Culver shot a warning glance from Smithy to the seated +officer. "About a hundred square miles of the finest fruit country on +earth laid waste," he admitted gravely; then sought to turn Smithy +from his rebellious mood: + +"What's underground, I wonder? Must be a world of caves. Or perhaps +these mole-men can follow up a mere crack or a fault line and open it +out with their flame-throwers to make a tunnel they can go through." + +The plane's captain had caught Culver's glance. "Speak your piece," he +said pleasantly. "Don't stop on my account. There's a lot to what Mr. +Smith says--but you don't know all that's going on." + +He had been half turned. Now he swung about in his little swivel +chair, whose base was riveted solidly to the floor and whose safety +belt ends dangled as he turned. + +"My orders are to deliver you two gentlemen at San Francisco. But +there's a show scheduled for to-night down south of there--two hundred +planes, big and little, scouts, cruisers, battle planes. They're going +to swarm in over when the enemy makes his first crack. There's a devil +of a storm in the mountains along the route we would usually take. I'm +afraid I'll have to swing off south." He was grinning openly as he +turned back to his desk. + +Colonel Culver smiled back. "Attaboy!" he said. + +But Smithy's forehead was still wrinkled in scowling lines as he +walked forward to an adjoining room. "Underground," he was thinking. +"We've got to carry the fight to them; got to lick 'em so they'll stay +licked. But Rawson--good old Dean--we're too late to help him. And the +lives of all the devils left in hell can't pay for that." + + * * * * * + +Smithy had been dozing. The shrill whistle of a high-pitched siren +brought him fully awake in an instant. Culver, too, sprang alertly to +his feet. Both men knew the signal was the call to quarters. + +They had spread blankets on the floor of the fire-control room. Culver +immediately folded his into a compact bundle, and Smithy followed +suit, as he said: "That's right; we don't want any feather beds flying +around here in case of a mix-up." + +Even Culver's simple act of stowing the blankets back in their little +compartment thrilled him with what it portended. His nerves were +suddenly aquiver with anticipation. A real fight! A determined effort! +No telling what these big dreadnoughts could do. Two hundred, big and +little, Captain Farrell had said. If they could catch the enemy out in +the open, show him up in a blaze of enormous flares.... + +Captain Farrell was calling them. A section of the floor had been +raised up mysteriously to form a platform beneath the shallow dome of +the conning tower. Farrell was there, headphones clamped to his ears, +one hand on the little switchboard at the base of the glass dome that +kept him in touch with every station on the ship. Beside him was the +fire-control officer similarly equipped, though his headphone was +connected only with the gun crews. + + * * * * * + +"The enemy's out!" said Captain Farrell. "And not just where they were +expected--they're raising fourteen kinds of hell. The ships have been +ordered in. I'm hooked up with the radio room now. They're less than a +hundred miles ahead. Of course we won't mix in on it, but I thought it +best to have my men standing by." + +He pressed a little lever on his switchboard and spoke into the +mouthpiece of his head-set. "Pilot room? Our two passengers, Colonel +Culver and Mr. Smith, are coming forward. Let them see whatever they +can of the show." + +He gave the two a quick smile and a nod and waved them forward with +the binoculars in his free hand. "It will be 'lights out' after you +get there. We'll be flying dark except for wing and tail lights up on +top. The enemy's movements are uncertain; perhaps he can see us +anyway, but we won't advertise ourselves to him." + +The ship's bow was a blunt, rounded nose of glass, cut by cross bars +of aluminum alloy. That deeper central portion of the big flying wing +was carried ten feet forward; it was but one of many details that +Smithy had looked at with interest when he had seen the ship waiting +for them on the field. + + * * * * * + +The pilot room was dark when they entered. Only the glow from the +instrument panel showed the two men who were seated behind the wheel +controls. One of them turned and nodded a welcome. + +"Can't offer you gentlemen seats," he said, "but if you'll stand right +here behind us you can see the whole works." He did not wait for a +reply, but turned back toward the black night ahead. + +Smithy glanced past him at the lighted instruments and found the +altimeter. Twelve thousand--yes, there was nasty country hereabouts. +Then he, too, stared out into the dark at the sky sprinkled with +stars, at the vague blur of an unlighted world far below, and off at +either side and behind them the quivering lines of cold light where +starlight was reflected dimly from the spinning propellers. + +Other wing lights winked out as he watched, and he knew that from that +moment on, they were invisible from below--invisible to human eyes at +least--that they were sweeping on through the darkness like some +gargantuan night bird pursuing its prey. + +"Flares ahead, sir," one of the pilots had spoken into the mouthpiece +of his telephone, spoken lightly, reporting back to Captain Farrell. +The words whipped Smithy's head about, and he, too, saw on a distant +horizon, the beginning of a white glare. + +They were fighting there--two hundred planes roaring downward, one +formation following another. In his mind he was seeing it so plainly. + +The white blaze of light dead ahead grew broader. It had not been as +far distant as he had first thought, and the scene that he had +pictured came swiftly to reality. + + * * * * * + +Their own ship was still at the twelve-thousand-foot level. Ahead, and +five thousand feet below, tiny lights, red and white and green, lights +whose swift motion made their hundreds seem like thousands instead, +were weaving intricate patterns in the night. The flying lights of the +fighting planes were on for the planes' own protection; and, too, no +further concealment was possible in the glare that shone upward from +below. + +Settling downward were balls of blinding fire, flares dropped by the +squadron of scout planes that had torn through in advance. They +lighted brilliantly a valley which, a few hours before, had been one +of many like it--square fields, dark green with the foliage of fruit +trees, straight lines of crossing roads, houses, and off in the +distance a little city. + +And now the valley was an inferno of spouting flame. That city was a +vast, roaring furnace under smoke clouds of mingled blood-red and +black. The valley floor was a place of desolation, of drifting smoke +and of flashing shell-bursts as the fleet swept in above. + +The myriad lights of the planes had drawn into a circle, a great +whirlpool of lines that revolved above a mile-wide section of that +valley. + +Beside Smithy a wheel control was moving. He clung to the pilot's seat +as their own plane banked and nosed downward. And now he shouted aloud +to Culver: + +"The mole-men! There they are! Thousands of them!" + + * * * * * + +He was pointing between the two pilots as their own plane swept down. +He could see them plainly now, clotted masses of dark figures surging +frenziedly to and fro. For an instant he saw them--then that part of +the world where they had been was a seething inferno of bursting bombs +and shells. + +Beside him Colonel Culver spoke quietly: "Caught them cold! That's +handing it to them." + +Their own plane had leveled off. With motors throttled they were +drifting slowly past, only a thousand feet higher than the circling +planes just off at one side. Culver's quiet tones rose to a hoarse +shout: "The ships! My God, they're falling!" + +His wild cry ended in a gasp. Beside him Smithy, in breathless horror, +like Culver, was staring at that whirlpool of tiny lights that had +gone suddenly from smooth circular motion into frenzied confusion, or +vanished in the yellow glare of exploding gas tanks. The light of +their own white flares picked them out in ghastly clarity as they +fell. + +Straight, vertical lines of yellow were burning planes. Again they +made horrible zigzag darts and flashed down into view torn and +helpless, while others, tens and scores of others with crumpled wings, +joined the mad dance of death. + +Smithy knew that he could never tear his eyes away from the sight. Yet +within him something was clamoring for his attention. "They didn't do +it from below!" that something was shouting. "Not down in that hell. +There are more of them somewhere." Then somehow, he forced his eyes to +stare ahead and outside of that circle of fearful fascination and he +knew that for an instant he was seeing a single stab of green flame. + + * * * * * + +One single light on the darkness of a little knoll that stood close +beside this place of white flame and destruction. One light--and in +the valley there had flashed a million brighter. It had shone but an +instant, but, to Smithy, watching, it was the same he had seen when +their own camp was attacked. And now it was Smithy who was abruptly +stone cold. + +One hand closed upon a pilot's shoulder with a grip of steel; his +other pointed. "Down there--they're hiding back of that hill, picking +off our ships from the side." And then, like a guiding beacon, a point +of green showed once more. + +The plane banked sharply while one of the pilots spoke crisp, clearly +enunciated words into his phone. He listened; then: "Right!" he +snapped. "Power dive for bow-gun firing. Level off for bombing from +five hundred feet." + +Off into the night they were headed. Then a left bank and turn brought +the place of blazing flares and falling planes swinging smoothly into +view; they were flying toward it. + + * * * * * + +Against the white glare in the valley of death was a hill, roundly +outlined. Then the ship's nose sank heavily down; and, from each broad +wing, in straight, forward-stabbing lines, was the steady lightning of +the Rickert batteries in action. + +The pilot's room was a place of unbearable sound. The crash of +gunfire, it seemed, must crush the glass wall like an eggshell by the +sheer impact of its own thunder. In that pandemonium Smithy never knew +when they flattened out. He knew only that the hill ahead twinkled +brilliantly, and that each flashing light was an exploding shell. He +knew when the hill passed beneath them. + +Then, in the night, close beside them and just outside the pilot-room +glass, was a quick glow of red. The plane lurched and staggered. +Smithy clung desperately to the seat ahead. The pilot was fighting +madly with the wheel. The roar of bombs from astern, where the bombers +had launched their missiles at the approaching hill, was unheard. In a +world suddenly gone chaotic he could hear nothing. He knew only that +the valley dead ahead was whirling dizzily--that it sank suddenly from +sight. + +They were crashing. That red glow--they had been hit. Then something +hard and firm was pressing against him, pressing irresistibly. It was +the last conscious impression upon Smithy's mind. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +_The Voice of the Mountain_ + + +In a strange new world surrounded by a group of kneeling figures of +whom one, who called himself Gor, had spoken in Rawson's own tongue, +Dean Rawson stood silent. It was all too overwhelming. He could not +bring words together to formulate a reply. He only stood and stared +with wondering eyes at the exquisite beauty of the world about him, a +world flooded with a golden light, faintly tinged with green. Then he +looked above him to see the source of that light and found the sun. + +Not the sun that he had known, but a flaming ball nevertheless. +Straight above it hung, in the center of the heavens, a gleaming disk +of pale-green gold, magnificently brilliant. He saw it through lids +half closed against its glare. Then his gaze swept back down the blue +vault of the heavens, back to a world of impossible beauty. + +Directly ahead was a land of desolation, radiant in its barrenness. +For every rock, every foot of ground, was made of crystal. Nearby +hills were visions of loveliness where the colors of a million +rainbows quivered and flashed. Veins of metal showed the rich blues +and greens of peacock coloring. Others were scarlet, topaz, green, and +all of them took the strange sunlight that flooded them and threw it +back in blendings radiant and delicate. + +The little hills began a short distance off, two low ranges running +directly away. One on either side, they made brilliant walls for the +flat valley between, whose foreground was barren rock of rose and +white. But beyond the glistening barren stretch were green fields of +luxuriant vegetation and in the distance, nestled in the green were +clustered masses that might have been a city of men. Still farther on, +a single mountain peak, white beyond belief, reared its graceful +sweeping sides to a shining apex against the heavens of clear blue. + + * * * * * + +Slowly Rawson turned. A hundred yards away, at his left, there was +water, a sea whose smooth rollers might have been undulating liquid +emeralds that broke to infinite flashing gems upon the shore. He +swung sharply to the right and found the same expanse of water, +perhaps the same distance away. + +Then he turned toward the shell, which had been behind him and the +shaft from which it had emerged, and into which the air was driving +with a ceaseless rushing sound. Now, looking beyond them, he found the +same ocean; he was standing on a blunt point of rock projecting into +the sea. The rest of this world was one vast expanse of water. + +Suddenly Rawson knew that it was unlike any ocean of earth. Instead of +finishing on a sharply-cut horizon, that sea of emerald green reached +out and still out, and _up_! It did not fall away. It curved upward, +until it lost itself in the distance and merged with the blue of the +sky. It was the same on all sides. + +He swung slowly back to face the land that perhaps was only an island. +The kneeling ones had raised their bowed heads. They were regarding +him from shining, expectant eyes. Only the girl kept her face averted. +Rawson spoke to none of them; the exclamations that his amazement and +dismay wrung from his lips were meant for himself. + +"It's concave! It curves upward! I'm on the inside of the world! And +that sun is the center! But what holds us here? What keeps us from +falling?" He passed one hand heavily across his eyes. The excitement +of the moment had lifted him above the weariness of muscle and mind. +Now fatigue claimed him. + +"Sleep," he said dully. "I've got to sleep. I've got to. I'm all in." + +Gor was beside him in an instant. "Whatever you wish is yours," he +promised. + + * * * * * + +Rawson was to remember little of that journey toward the habitations +of this people. Gor had spoken at times along the way: "... the Land +of the Central Sun.... The People of the Light, peaceful and happy in +our little world...." + +Rawson had roused himself to ask: "Who it at the head of it? Who is +the king, the ruler?" + +And the tall man beside him had answered humbly: "Always since the +beginning one named Gor has led. My father, and those who came before +him; now it is I. And when I have gone, my little son will take the +name of Gor." + +He had glanced toward the girl and his voice had dropped into the +soft, liquid syllables of their own tongue. She had smiled back at +Gor, though her eyes persistently refused to meet those of Rawson. + +Again Gor spoke in words that Rawson could understand. + +"I think at times," he said, "it is my daughter Loah, my little +Loah-San who really rules. I, knowing not who you were, did not +approve of this expedition, but Loah insisted. She had seen you, +and--" A glance from the girl cut him short. + +The words lingered in Rawson's mind when he awoke. The horrible +experience of the past days were no longer predominant. Even his own +world seemed of a dim and distant past. + + * * * * * + +He awoke refreshed. He was in a new world and, for the moment, he +asked nothing except to explore its mystery. He bathed under a +fountain in an adjoining room, and grinned broadly as he wrapped the +folds of the long golden loin cloth about him. + +"As well be dead as out of style," he quoted. "And now to find Gor and +Loah, and see what the devil all this is about--a talking mountain and +a buried race that speaks first-rate American." + +Gor was waiting for him in a room whose translucent walls admitted a +subdued glow from outside. There was food on a table, strange fruits, +and a clear scarlet liquid in a crystal glass. Rawson ate ravenously, +then followed Gor. + +Outside were houses, whose timbered frames of jet-black contrasted +startlingly with the quartz walls they enclosed. The street was +thronged with people who drew back to let them pass, and who dropped +to their knees in humble worship. Like Gor, the men wore only the loin +cloth, but for this gala day, that simple apparel added a note of +flashing color. The long cloths wrapped about their hips, and brought +up and about the waist where the ends hung free, were brilliant with +countless variations of crimson and blue and gold. The same rainbow +hues were found in the loose folded cloths that draped themselves like +short skirts from the women's waists. Here and there, in the sea of +white bodies and scintillant jeweled breast-plates, was one with an +additional flash of color, where brilliant silken scarves had been +thrown about the shoulders of the younger girls. + +"From all the land," said Gor, "they have come to do you honor." + + * * * * * + +Hardly more than a village, this cluster of strangely beautiful +shelters for the People of the Light. Beyond, Rawson saw the country, +pastures where animals, weird and strange, were cropping the grass so +vividly green; fields of growing things; little crystal houses like +fanciful, glistening toys that had miraculously grown to greater size. +The dwellings were sprinkled far into the distance across the +landscape. Beyond them was the base of the mountain, magnificent and +glorious in its crystal purity of white, and the striations, vertical +and diagonal, that flashed brilliantly with black jet and peacock +green. + +Rawson knew them for mineral intrusions, and knew that the mountain +was only one crystalline mass of all the quartz formation that made of +the world's inner core a gigantic geode, gleaming in eternal +brilliance under the glow of the central sun. And still, in it all, +Dean Rawson had seen a lack without which perfection could not be +complete. + +"Where is Loah?" he asked of Gor. "I thought--I had hoped...." + +Something in Gor's face told Rawson that his companion was troubled. +"She refused to come," he said. "But the wish of one of the great ones +from the Land of the Sun is a command." He shouted an order before +Rawson could put in a protest. A man darted away. + +"Always happy, my little Loah-San," said Gor. His eyes held a puzzled +look. "Always until now. And now she weeps and will not say why. Come, +we will walk more slowly. There were questions you wished to ask. I +will answer them as we walk." + +"Questions?" exclaimed Rawson. "A thousand of them." + + * * * * * + +And now for the first time since, at the top of a barren peak, in the +dark of the desert night, his wild journey had begun, he found +answers, definite and precise, to the puzzles he had been unable to +solve. + +Their speech--their language--how was it they could talk with him? He +fired the questions out with furious eagerness, and Gor replied. + +As to their speech--the Holy Mountain itself would explain. And yes, +truly, this was the center of the world, or the sun above them was. +The central sun did not attract, but instead repelled all matter from +it--all things but one, the sun-stone, of which Gor would speak +later. + +Rawson pounced upon that and demanded corroboration. + +"All the power of earth tends to draw every object to its center, yet +we're here on an inner surface. We're walking actually head down. And +our bodies, every stone, every particle of matter, ought by well-known +laws to fall into that flaming center. But we don't! That proves your +point--proves a counter gravitation. Then there must be a neutral +zone. A place where this upward thrust is exactly equalled by +gravity's downward pull. + +"The zone of fire," said Gor. "You passed through it. Did you not +see?" + +"Saw it and felt it!" Rawson's mind leaped immediately to the next +question. + +"And we must have come through it at, surely, a thousand miles an +hour. What drove us? That shell must have gone in from here. I can +understand its falling one way, but not two. We should have come to +rest in that very spot--and we'd have lasted about half a second if we +had." + +"Oro and Grah," said Gor. "Oro, the sun-stone, and Grah, the +stone-that-loves-the-dark. But they are not stones, neither are they +metal. We find them deep in the ground, clinging to the caves. A fine +powder, both of them." + +"Still I don't get it," said Rawson. "You drive that shell in from +here, and then you drive it back again." + +"That, too, I will explain later. It is simple; even the Dwellers in +the Dark--those whom you call the mole-men--have Oro and Grah to serve +them." + + * * * * * + +Gor launched into a long account of their tribal legends, of that time +in the long ago when an angry sun god had driven his children inside +the earth; of how Gor, and the son of Gor, and his son's sons tried +always to return. + +Rawson was listening only subconsciously. They were circling the white +mountain, ascending its lower slope. Now he could see beyond it as far +as the land extended, and he was startled to find this distance so +short. They were on an island, ten miles or so in length, and beyond +it was the sea; he must ask Gor about that. + +"It is all that is left," said Gor, when Rawson interrupted his +narrative. "Once the land was great and the sea small--this also in +the long ago--but always it has risen. The air we breathe and the +water in the sea come from the central sun. The air rushes out, as you +know; the water has no place to retreat." + +Again he took up his tale, but Rawson's eyes were following the upward +curve of that sea. They, seemed to be in the bottom of a great bowl; +he was trying to estimate, trying to gage distance. + +"... and so, after many generations had lived and died, they found the +Pathway to the Light," Gor was saying. "It is our name for the shaft +through which you came. This was thousands of your years ago, when he +who was then Gor, and the bravest of the tribe, descended. Even then +they were workers in metal and they knew of Oro and Grah. They were +our fathers, the first People of the Light." + + * * * * * + +Rawson had a question ready on his tongue, but Gor's words suggested +another. "That shaft," he said, "the Pathway to the Light--do you mean +it extends clear up to the mole-men's world? Why don't they come +down?" + +"To them the way is lost; the Pathway is closed above the zone of +fire. That other Gor did that. And those who remained--the +mole-men--have forgotten. They could break their way through if they +knew--they are master-workers with fire--but for them the Pathway +ends, and below is the great heat. But we know of a way around the +closed place, the hidden way to the great Lake of Fire." + +"They could break their way through if they knew!" repeated Rawson +softly. For an instant he stood silent and unbreathing; he was +remembering the ugly eyes in a priest's hideous face. The eyes were +watching him as the White Ones took him away. + +He forced his thoughts to come back to the earlier question. "What," +he asked, "is the diameter, the distance across the inside world? How +far is it from here to your sun? How many miles?" + +"Miles?" questioned Gor. "We know the word, for the Mountain has told +us, but the length of a mile we could not know. This I can say: there +were wise men in the past when our own world was larger. They worked +magic with little marks on paper. It is said that they knew that if +one came here from our sun and kept on as far again through the solid +rock, he would reach the outside--the land, of the true sun, from +which our forefathers came." + +Rawson nodded his head, while his eyes followed that sweeping green +bowl of the sea. "Not far off," he said abstractedly. "Two thousand +miles radius--and the earth itself not a solid ball, but a big +globular shell two thousand miles thick. I could rig up a level, I +suppose; work out an approximation of the curvature." + +From the smooth winding path which they had followed there sounded +behind them hurrying footsteps; a moment later Loah stood beside him. + + * * * * * + +Her eyes gave unmistakable corroboration of what Gor had said of that +torrent of tears, but she looked at Dean bravely, while every show of +emotion was erased from her face. "You sent for me," she said. + +And Rawson, though now he knew he could speak to her and be +understood, found himself at a loss for words. + +"We wanted you with us, Gor and I," he began, then paused. She was so +different from the girl whose smiling eyes had welcomed him. The +change had come when he spoke those first words on his arrival, and +now she was so coldly impersonal. + +"I wanted to thank you. You saved my life; you were so brave, so...." +Again he hesitated; he wanted to tell her how dear, how utterly +lovely, she had seemed. + +"It was nothing; it has pleased me to do it," she said quietly, then +walked on ahead while the others followed. But Rawson knew that that +slim body was tense with repressed emotion. He had not realized how he +had looked forward to seeing again that welcoming light in her eyes. +He was still puzzling over the change as they entered a natural cave +in the mountainside. + +A winding passage showed between sheer walls of snow white, where +giant crystals had parted along their planes of cleavage. Then the +passage grew dark, but he could see that ahead of them it opened to +form a wider space. There were lights on the walls of the room, lights +like the one that Loah had carried. And on the floor were rows of +tables where men were busy at work, writing endlessly on long scrolls +of parchment. + + * * * * * + +"The Wise Ones," Gor was saying. "Servants of the Holy Mountain." Yet +even then men knelt at Rawson's coming as had the other more humble +people. They then returned to their tables, and in that crystal +mountain was only the sound of their scratching pens and the faint +sigh of a breeze that blew in through a hidden passage to furnish +ventilation. + +Yet there were some at those tables whose pens did not move; they +seemed to be waiting expectantly. One of them spoke. "The time is +near," he said. "Are the Servants prepared?" + +And the waiting ones answered: "We are prepared." + +Rawson glanced sharply about. "What hocus-pocus is this?" he was +asking himself. Still the silence persisted. He looked at the waiting +men, motionless, their heads bent, their hands ready above the +parchment scrolls. He saw again the white walls, the single broad band +of some glittering metal that made a continuous black stripe around +walls and ceiling and floor. + +"What kind of ore is that?" he was asking himself silently. "It's +metallic; it runs right through the mountain. I wonder--" + +His idle thoughts were never finished. A ripping crash like the +crackle of lightning in the vaulted room! Then a voice--the mountain +itself was speaking--speaking in words whose familiar accent brought a +sob into his throat. + +"Station K-twenty-two-A," said the voice of the mountain, "the +super-power station of the Radio-news Service at Los Angeles, +California." + + * * * * * + +"It's tuned in!" gasped Rawson. "Tuned in on the big L. A. station! A +gigantic crystal detector! Those heavy laminations of imbedded metal +furnish the inductance." Then his incoherent words ended--the mountain +was speaking. + +"Radiopress dispatch: The invasion of the mole-men has not been +checked. Army Air Force fought a terrific engagement about midnight, +last night, and met defeat. Over one hundred fighting planes were +brought down in flames. Even the new battle-plane type, the latest +dreadnoughts of the air, succumbed. + +"Heavy loss of life, although civilian population of three towns had +been evacuated before the mole-men destroyed them. Gordon Smith is +reported killed. Smith was associated with Dean Rawson in the Tonah +Basin where the mole-men first appeared. With Colonel Culver of the +California National Guard, Smith was returning from Washington in an +Army dreadnought which crashed back of the enemy's lines." + +Rawson's tanned face had gone white; he knew the others were looking +at him curiously, all but the men at the tables whose pens were flying +furiously across the waiting scrolls. Before him the face of Loah, +suddenly wide-eyed and troubled, swam dizzily. He could scarcely see +it--he was seeing other sights of another world. + +"They're out," he half whispered. "The red devils are out--and +Smithy--Smithy's gone!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +_Taloned Hands_ + + +Simple, pastoral folk, the People of the Light! In their inner world, +a vanishing world, where nearly all of what once had been a vast +country was now covered by the steadily encroaching sea, they had +resisted the degeneration which might easily have followed the +destruction of a complex civilization. Living simply, and clean of +mind, they had clung to the culture of the past as it was taught them +by their Wise Ones. And now the People of the Light had found a new +god. + +Not that Dean Rawson had asked for that exalted position; on the +contrary he had tried his best to make them understand that he was +only one of many millions, some better, some worse, but all of them +merely humans. + +His speaking the language of the holy mountain had convinced them +first. But when old Rotan, oldest and grayest of the mountain's +servants, went into a trance, then Rawson could no longer escape the +honors being thrust upon him. + +"The time of deliverance is at hand," old Rotan said when he awoke. +His voice that so long had been cracked and feeble was suddenly +strong, vibrant with belief in the visions that had come to him. + +They were in the inner chamber of the white mountain, where Dean +Rawson, heartsick, lonely and hopeless, had spent most of his time +listening to the voice from the outer world. Gor was there, and Loah; +and the writers had left their desks to gather around old Rotan, where +now the old servant of the mountain stood erect, his glistening eyes +fixed unwaveringly upon Rawson. + +"Listen," he commanded. "Rotan speaks the truth. Never shall the +People of the Light return to the outer world; it is here we stay. For +now our world which is lost shall be returned to us." His eyes, +unnaturally bright, met the wondering gaze of his own people gathered +around, then came back to rest again upon Rawson. + + * * * * * + +"Dean--Rah--Sun!" he said. "'Rah'--do you not see? It is our own word, +Rah--the Messenger! Dean--Messenger of the Sun! The sun-god has sent +him--he will set us free. He will restore our lost cities. The People +of the Light will spread out to fill the new land; they will multiply, +and once more will be a mighty nation, living happily as of old in +their own lost world. + +"Dean!" he called. "Dean--Messenger of the Sun!" He was drawn to his +full frail height, his arms outstretched. But Rawson saw the old eyes +close, sensed the first slackening of that tense body; it was he who +sprang and caught the sagging figure in his arms, then lowered the +lifeless body to the floor of crystal white. + +Even happiness can kill. A feeble heart can cease to beat under the +stress of emotions too beautiful to be borne. And Rotan, wisest of the +wise, had passed on to serve his sun-god in another world. + +And thereafter, Rawson, Dean-Rah-Sun, was undeniably a god. But he +wondered, even then, while the others dropped to their knees in humble +worship, why Loah, her eyes brimming over with tears, had broken +suddenly into uncontrollable sobs and had rushed blindly, swiftly, +from the room. + + * * * * * + +To Rawson the unwavering, simple faith of the White Ones was only an +added misery. Rotan's vision was accepted by them unquestioningly; +their adoring eyes followed Rawson wherever he went, while the +children carpeted his path to the holy mountain with golden flowers. + +And there Rawson would sit, cursing silently his own helplessness, +while the voice of the mountain told of further devastation up above. +His plans for leading a force against the mole-men were abandoned. On +the island, all that was left of this inner world, were only some two +thousand persons, men, women and children. And the children were few; +the population had been rigorously kept down. Their present number was +all that the island would support, though every possible foot of +ground was tilled. + +"Only a handful of them," Rawson admitted despondently, "and not a +weapon of any sort. They've kept by themselves. Only Loah and a few +of the others had enough curiosity and nerve to scout around where the +mole-men live. She even understands their talk! Lord, what I'd give +for a thousand like her, a thousand men with her nerve! Then, with +weapons, and means of transportation...." But at that he stopped, +aware of the futility of all such thoughts. + +He had tried to talk to Gor, tried to tell him of his own limitations. +And Gor had only smiled pleasantly and repeated "Rotan has spoken. It +will come to pass!" + +Ceaselessly his thoughts revolved about the hopelessness of his +situation. He was alone. Whatever was to be done he must do +single-handed--and there was nothing he could do! But he would not +admit to himself that the aching loneliness came to a focus in the +memory of a girl's smiling eyes, the touch of her soft hand. + +"They're fighting up there," he argued, "fighting for their lives, and +I can't help. What right have I to think of Loah or myself?" In spite +of which he sprang abruptly to his feet, left the mountain and the +voice of the mountain behind him, and went in search of the girl. + +"I've got to make her understand," he exclaimed. "I've got to have +someone to talk to. But I can't make her out. She's so confoundedly +respectful--acts as if I were a little tin god. And yet--she wasn't +always that way!" + + * * * * * + +At the home of Gor he found Loah, slim and beautiful as always. She +had just come from the bath. The creamy texture of her skin had +flushed to rosiness in the cold fountain. Her jeweled breast-plates +sparkled. A cloth that shone like silk enwrapped her hips in soft +folds of pale rose and hung in an absurd little skirt. She might have +been the spirit of youth itself, a vision of loveliness; yet Rawson +felt an almost uncontrollable desire to take her in his two hands and +shake her when she bowed humbly and treated his request as if it were +a royal command. + +"To walk with Dean-Rah-Sun! But certainly, if that is his wish!" + +In silence they left the village and walked toward the island's end +where Rawson had emerged from the under-world. + +The island was not large. On either side were low hills, mere knolls, +of white crystal, where, in every hollow, men and women were +harvesting strange grain. Between the two ranges of hills were flat +fields of green, reaching out toward the point some three miles +distant. + +Rawson made no attempt to talk as he led Loah along the roadway that +cleft the green expanse in half. Other workers were there, and Dean +acknowledged their smiling, worshipful salutations. He did not want to +talk now; he wanted to find some place where he and Loah could be by +themselves. There was so much he must tell her. He must try to make +her understand. And after that, perhaps, with her help, he could find +some way to be of aid to his own beleaguered people--something he +could do even single-handed. + + * * * * * + +Where the fields ended, and from there on toward the point, had been +an expanse of glistening white. Rawson remembered it plainly. So now, +when he found it a place of flaming crimson, he stared in amazement. +Across the full width of the valley a brilliant carpet had spread +itself, a covering of flowers. A blossoming vine had sprung up in the +few days since his arrival and had woven a thick mat of vegetation. + +He wanted to go on out to the extreme end of the point. There they +would be alone. But Loah objected when he started to enter the red +expanse. + +"No!" she said in quick alarm. "We must not cross. It is the Place of +Death. We will go around it, following the hills." + +"We crossed it the other day when it was a plain of white salt," +argued Rawson. + +"But now the flowers have come. Even now it might be safe--but when +they die then nothing can cross here and live." + +Loah could not give the reason. Dean gathered from what she could tell +that a gas of some sort was formed, perhaps by the decomposing +vegetation. Perhaps it combined with the sparkling white shale. But +all this was of no consequence compared with his own problems. He did +not argue the matter but followed where Loah led. + +"Where is the shell?" he asked, when they stood at last near the open +mouth of the great shaft into which the air was rushing. "Where is the +machine that we came here in? I wanted to see it--thought perhaps I +could use it later on. + +"The jana--the shell, as you call it--is safely locked in a great room +of Gor's house. Not all understand its use; it must be kept away from +careless hands." + + * * * * * + +Then Rawson put that thought aside. He took Loah's hand and led her +some distance away toward the shore. Beyond a rocky, crystalline mass, +where fragments had been heaped, the sound of the rushing air was +lost; only the flashing emerald waves whispered softly on the shore +beyond. And there in that quiet place, under the brilliance of the +central sun, Rawson told her of himself and of the great outer world. +He told her of his work, of everything that had happened, of how he +was only one of many millions of men and women like, and yet unlike, +the People of the Light. And at last he knew that she understood. + +He had spoken softly, though he knew there were no other listening +ears. Loah had been seated before him on one of the white blocks. She +rose to her feet. Her eyes were troubled. Vaguely he sensed behind +them a conflict of emotions. + +"I must think," she said. "I will walk by myself for a time; then I +will return." + +Rawson reached for her hand. "You're a good sport," he said huskily. +Then he felt the trembling of that hand in his; and, as if it had been +an electric current, his own body responded. + +Shaken in every nerve, his poise deserted him. He could not think +clearly. He knew only that that horrible loneliness was somehow gone. +By force of will alone he kept his arms from reaching out toward that +radiant figure. Instead, he raised her hand toward his lips. + +She withdrew it sharply. "No," she said, "our Wise Ones were mistaken. +For years they have listened to the mountain; they have written down +its words. Slowly they have learned their meaning. A kiss, they said, +was a symbol of love in your world. They were mistaken--as was I. Now +I will walk alone for a time." + + * * * * * + +Rawson let her go. She seemed hardly looking where she went; her eyes +were downcast. She moved slowly around the sheltering rock and on +toward the level ground and the rushing winds of the shaft. + +His own thoughts were in a whirl, too confused with emotion for clear +thinking. "A symbol of love!" And back there in that cave world she +had pressed her lips to his hand. Then they had come here, and he had +been transformed to a god, a being who could never have more than an +impersonal affection for one as humble as she. + +The rising flood of happiness within him was abruptly frozen, changed +to something which filled his veins with ice. For, from beyond the +crystal barrier that hid Loah from his view, her voice had come in one +single cry of terror. Then, "Dean!" she called. "Dean San!" But by +then, Rawson was throwing himself madly around the barricade of rocks. + +Like a sensitized plate when the camera's shutter is opened a merest +fraction of a second, Rawson's brain took the imprint of every detail +that was there. The black mouth of the shaft, and, on the rock beside +it, something metallic, brilliantly gleaming--a flame-thrower! Beyond +the pit was Loah, half crouching, her slim body tense as if checked in +mid-flight. She had been running toward him, coming to warn him. And +between her and the shaft, his back turned squarely toward Rawson, was +the hideous figure of a mole-man, one of the Reds! His grotesque, +pointed head was bent forward toward the girl; his arms were reaching, +the long fingers like talons. + + * * * * * + +Rawson did not know when he called the girl's name. But he knew the +instant that he had done it and he knew it was a mistake. He should +have crept quietly, seized the weapon--and now his feet tore madly on +the white rock floor as he raced toward the shining implement of +death. From beyond, the red figure, whirling at his call, leaped +wildly for the same prize. + +The taloned hands were on the flame-thrower first. Rawson saw the red +body straighten, saw the weapon swing, glistening in air, swinging +over and down. From its tip green fire made a straight line of light. + +He leaped in under the descending flame, felt the nozzle of the +projector as it crashed upon his right shoulder and the green fire +spat harmlessly beyond his back. That last spring had thrown him +bodily against the red monster. They were both knocked off balance for +a moment, then Rawson caught himself and swung with his left. He set +himself in that fraction of a second, felt the first movement of that +shining, crook-necked tube that meant the green flame was being drawn +back where it could reach him; then his fist crashed into a yielding +jaw. + +Not five feet from the brink of that nearly bottomless shaft he stood +wavering in the rush of air. He knew that the ugly red figure had +toppled sideways, that the weapon had fallen with him, the blast +swinging upward in a vertical, hissing arc--then man and weapon had +dropped silently into the pit. + +He was alone, save for the girl, who, her eyes wide with horror, threw +herself upon him and clung trembling, while she murmured +incomprehensible endearments in her own tongue wherein his own name +was mingled: "Dean, dear! My own Dean-San!" + +But the mole-men! Dean Rawson's mind was aghast with the horror of it: +the mole-men had now found the way. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +_Suicide?_ + + +Gordon Smith, sometimes known as Smithy, was to remember little of the +happenings that followed the crash of the big Army dreadnought. It was +Colonel Culver who dragged him from the pilot-room wreckage, Colonel +Culver and one of the pilots whom he had restored to consciousness. +They lowered Smithy carefully to the ground, then explored the rest of +the ship. + +Their hands were red when they returned--and empty. Captain Farrell +and the rest of the crew had ceased to be units of the United States +Army Air Force; henceforth they would be only names on a casualty list +grown ominously long. + +"Stood plumb on her tail," said the pilot, staring at the wreck. "They +hit us just once, and the left wing crumpled like cardboard. Last I +remember was pulling her up off the trees." He stared at the mass of +twisted metal and the center section where the wing had torn loose; it +stood upright, almost vertical, resting on the crushed tail. + +"Funny," said the pilot in the same flat, level tone that seemed the +only voice he had since that last pull on a whipping wheel. "Damn +funny--mostly we get it first up there." + +"Come here!" snapped Colonel Culver. "Lend a hand here with Smith; +we've got to carry him. And don't talk so loud--those red devils will +be out here any minute." + + * * * * * + +Smithy was taking a more active interest in his surroundings when he +sat a week later in the Governor's office. + +"There's a detachment moving in there from the south," said the +Governor. "We're going to follow your advice, to some extent at least. +We're sending troops to Tonah Basin. If the top of that dead crater is +closed they will blast it open; then a scouting party's going down. +Call it a reconnaissance, call it suicide--one name's just as good as +the other. Colonel Culver, here, is going. But you know the lay of the +land there; you could be of great help. How about it?" + +"Are you asking me?" Smithy inquired. + +He stood up, flexed his arms, while he grinned at Colonel Culver. +"Hinges all greased and working! As a flier, Colonel, you're a darn +good first-aid man. I'll say that! When do we start?" + +Which explains why Smithy, some time later, hidden under the grotesque +disguise of a gas mask, was one of fifty, similarly attired, who stood +waiting about the black open maw in the great cinder-floored crater of +one of the peaks that surrounded Tonah Basin. + +Night. And the big stars that hang so low in the black desert sky +should have been brilliant. They were lost now in the white glare that +streamed upward. The crater was a fortress. Around the circle of the +entire rim, on the inner side of the rough crags, men of the 49th +Field Artillery stood by their guns. Lookouts trailed their telephone +wire to the higher peaks, where they perched as shapeless as huddled +owls; and, like owls, their eyes swept the mountain's slopes and the +desert at its base, where the searchlight crews played long fingers of +light incessantly--and where nothing moved. + +But the empty silence of the desert was misleading, as the men in the +crater knew. + + * * * * * + +They had begun arriving with the earliest light of morning. Smithy had +come in with the first lot. And when the first big auto-gyro transport +had settled and risen again from the crater, another had taken its +place, and another and many others after that. + +That first crew had been a machine-gun battalion, and Smithy had +smiled with grim satisfaction at the unhurried way in which their +young captain had snapped them into position without the loss of a +second. And their guns, Smithy noticed, were trained inward upon the +crater itself. + +Inside that protecting circle the other transports landed one by one: +men, mobile artillery, ammunition cases, big searchlights, and a +dozen engine-generator outfits. The last transports brought in strange +cargo--short sections of aluminum struts with bolts and splice plates +to join them together: blocks, and tackle and sheaves; then spools of +steel alloy cable at least ten miles in length. + +From the last ship they took a hoisting engine and an assortment of +aluminum plates and bars which were bolted together by waiting +mechanics, and which grew magically to a crude but exceedingly +substantial elevator, on which fifty men, by considerable crowding, +could stand. + +Only a floor of bolted plates, with corner posts and diagonal bracing +and a single guard rail running around the four sides--but for the +first time Smithy began to feel that he was actually going down; that +this was not all make-believe, or a futile gesture. He would stand on +that platform; he would go down where Dean had gone. And then.... But +what would come after he knew he could never imagine. + + * * * * * + +A little crane swung the first metal work into position above the +shaft. One end of the assembled framework of aluminum alloy dragged +loosely on the ground; the other end swung out and projected above the +shaft, swayed for an instant--and then came the first direct knowledge +of the enemy's presence. The end of a metal strut, though nothing +visible was touching it, grew suddenly white hot, sagged, then broke +into a shower of molten, dazzling drops that rained down into the pit. + +"Good," said Colonel Culver, who was standing beside Smithy. "Now we +know they are there--but it means we will have to go down there with +our gas masks on." + +To Smithy it was not immediately apparent how gas masks were to +protect them from the deadly invisible ray. He got the connection of +thoughts when a bomb was slid over the edge. The dull thud of the +explosion quickly came back to them. + +"They popped that one off in the air--hit it with their heat ray," +said a cheerful voice beside them. "But the phosgene will keep on +going down. Give them another!" + +The interval this time was longer. "Now for a dirty crack," said the +cheerful voice. "Time this one." + + * * * * * + +A youngster nearby snapped a stop-watch as the bomb was released. He +held some printed tables in his hands. Odd receivers from which no +wire led were clamped over his ears. This time the dull thud was long +in coming. It was hardly perceptible when the young man with the stop +watch announced: "Fifty thousand feet, sir." + +"Give 'em another. Time it again." A second high explosive bomb was +released. + +"Fifty thousand feet, sir." + +"Good. That measures it. And those last bombs have knocked the devil +out of whatever machinery they've got down there. Now we'll give them +a real taste of gas. Two of the green ones there, men. Put ten miles +of cable on the drums. Get that hoisting frame into place." + +But night had come, though searchlights outside the crater and +floodlights within had robbed the night of its terror, when Smithy, +with Culver beside him, climbed over the guard rail of the lift that +hung waiting just over the pit. + +A gas mask covered his entire face. Through its round eye plates he +looked at the others who crowded about him. Grotesque, almost +ludicrous--twenty men, armed with clumsy sub-machine guns; the others +would follow later. A searchlight was on a tripod at the center, and a +spool of electric cable. + +The light sizzled into life and swung slowly about. Then the platform +jarred, and the spool of cable began slowly to unwind. Beside him +Colonel Culver was returning the salute of an officer outside on the +ashy ground. Smithy raised his hand, but the brink of that pit had +moved swiftly up--there was nothing before him but a glassy wall. + +Reconnaissance? Suicide? One word was as good as another. But he was +going down--down where Dean Rawson had gone--down where there was a +debt to be paid. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +_The Red-Flowering Vine_ + + +"Rotan," said Gor slowly, sadly, "was wrong. His vision was not the +truth. The Red Ones have come. And now--we die." + +"Without a fight?" Rawson demanded incredulously. + +"We are not a fighting people. We have no weapons. We can only die." + +Rawson turned to Loah. They were inside the mountain, and the servants +of the mountain, with terror and dismay written plainly on their +faces, were gathered about. "At the Lake of Fire," said Rawson, "when +you saved me, there was an explosion and clouds of white fumes. What +was it?" + +"It was like water," Loah said. "We found it deep inside the earth in +a place where it is very cold. When warmed it turns to white clouds. +We threw a flask of it on the hot rocks, hoping to reach you while +they could not see."--she paused and shook her head slowly--"but we +can get no more. The Pathway of Light is closed to us, now that the +Red Ones are there." + +"Liquefied gas of some sort," said Rawson briefly, "caught in enormous +rock pressure. But that's out! Now what about this Place of Death? +There's an idea there." + +The White Ones were numbed with fear, but Loah and Gor accompanied him +when Rawson returned to the red field. The flowers were still in +bloom; they waved gently in the breeze that blew always from the +mountain across the fields and out toward the point, where even now +dark figures could be seen near the mouth of the shaft. + +"It will be many of your days," said Loah, "before the flowers die. If +you thought to trap the Red Ones in the Place of Death, there will not +be time...." But Rawson had left them; he had advanced into the scarlet +field and dropped to his knees. + + * * * * * + +He was crushing the vines in his hands, grinding them into the white, +salty earth underneath. Then he passed his hands guardedly before his +face as if to detect an odor. + +Loah and Gor saw him shake his head slowly while he spoke aloud words +that they could not understand. "Cyanide," Dean Rawson was saying. +"It's a cyanide of some sort--releases hydrocyanic acid gas. I could +have rigged a generator, though I've forgotten about all of my +chemistry--and now there isn't time." Off in the distance the dark +figures still moved near the end of the point. + +He made no effort to conceal his dejection as he returned. The edge of +the Place of Death made a winding line across the scant half mile of +valley where the green fields ended abruptly. + +Dean stepped high over the stone trough a half mile long that marked +that dividing line. There was water in it; it was part of their +irrigation system. A little beyond, in the midst of the green, stood a +tiny flat-topped knoll on which he knew was a pool that supplied the +crude system. Beyond it Loah and Gor were waiting. + +Gor read the look on Rawson's face. "It is useless," Gor said. "And +now I have decided. The People of the Light must die--but not in the +fires of the Reds. With my people I shall walk into the sea." + +And Rawson could not protest. He could only follow as Gor turned back +toward the village and the mountain beyond. + +From a spur on the mountainside Rawson could see the full length of +the island. One way lay the village; beyond it the green fields; then +the wide scarlet band of the Place of Death. And beyond that the +little crystal hills and the valley between that led out to the point. +It was now dark with massed clusters of bodies, red even at that +distance. He could even see the glint of metal from time to time. + +And behind the mountain were the People of Light, where Gor was only +waiting for the attack to lead them out to the island's farther end +and then on to a kindlier death in the emerald sea. Only Loah was with +Dean, although there were others of the White Ones not far away, +watching, ready to warn Gor when the attack began. + +Not an hour before, Rawson had stood in the inner chamber and had +listened to the mountain as it repeated the words of a far-distant +man: "Attack of the mole-men growing increasingly ferocious ... +heat-ray projectors--almost invincible ... our forces have entered the +Tonah Basin--they are descending into the crater. But whether warfare +can be carried on advantageously under ground is problematical...." +Rawson unconsciously gritted his teeth behind his set lips as he +watched the Reds. + +He knew why they had been so slow in attacking. They must have a +carrier of some sort, a shell like that of Loah's, and they were +bringing their fighters one shell-load at a time. When the entire +force was ready they would attack. And Rawson was convinced that this +force would be limited in number. + +"They'll have plenty to keep them busy up there," he argued. "If only +we could wipe out this one lot we could prepare to defend ourselves." +And now, standing on the side of the mountain, he startled Loah with +the fury of his sudden ejaculation. + +"Fool! Quitter! Waiting here for them to come and get you! There's one +chance in a million--" Then he was rushing at full speed along the +roadway that circled the mountain toward Gor and the terrified throng. + + * * * * * + +The waiting savages must have laughed, if indeed laughter was possible +for such a race, at sight of the White Ones creeping timidly down. Off +a mile and more they could see them harvesting their strange +crop--harvesting!--storing up supplies of food, no doubt, when the +mole-men with their flame-throwers would reap the harvest so soon! + +But in a crimson field Dean and Gor and Loah led the others where they +swarmed across the Place of Death, gathering huge armfuls of the +red-flowering vine, carrying them to the village and returning for +more. Where they trod it was as if peach pits were crushed beneath +their feet. And there was a curious fragrance which Rawson told them +not to breathe, but to keep their faces always into the wind. + +Their hands and bodies were sore and burned by the strong juice of the +vines. They stopped often to cast apprehensive glances at the distant +group of red figures, and always Rawson drove them in a frenzy of +haste. At last he made them move the long trough of stone beyond the +edge of the green field and over into the Place of Death. + +Rawson kept no track of the time. The voice of the mountain was his +only measure of hours in a world of perpetual day. But more +hours--another day, perhaps--had passed when the Red force at last +began to move. + + * * * * * + +They did not spread out wide across the valley, but formed a +straggling line that was denser toward the center. They could not know +what opposition they would meet; for the present they would stay +together. Above them as they came were twinkling lights of pale-green +fire. + +The radio had spoken of heat rays; Rawson wondered if that meant some +newer and more horrible instrument. But he saw nothing but the +flame-throwers in the armament of this force. + +He was waiting by the irrigation pool, hidden for the moment behind +the little knoll. Loah was with him; he had tried in vain to induce +her to stay with Gor and the others who were waiting beyond the +mountain. + +There were watchers, some of them within hearing, whose voices relayed +the news of the enemy's advance. Then they ran; panic was upon them. + +"_Tur--gona!_" they cried, "_Nu--tur--gona!_ We die! Quickly we die!" +Rawson heard the shout carried on toward the hidden throng. + +Cautiously he peered from the little knoll. They were coming. Already +they were trampling the remaining red blooms on the farther edge of +the field. But he waited till they were halfway across before he +leaped to the top of the knoll, grasped a pole he had placed there in +readiness and rammed it down through the pool, turbid yellow with the +juice from the vines, and broke open the outlet he had plugged in the +base. + + * * * * * + +One green light slashed above his head. One flicked at the knoll near +his feet, where green growing things burst into flame--then he threw +himself backward down the short rocky slope while the stones tore at +his nearly nude body. He sprang to his feet and held Loah close. On +either side of the knoll was a holocaust of flame where green lights +played. He waited breathlessly. The fires brought in a little back +draft of air, the scent of peach pits was strong--and then the green +lights ceased. The unripe grain of the fields smoldered slowly. + +Then Rawson stepped from his hiding and stared out at the Place of +Death. + +Nearby was a huddle of bodies. On either side, in a long, straggling +line, they lay now on the ground--a windrow where Death had reaped. +The flames of their weapons still in action were all that moved. The +white earth turned molten wherever those flames struck. + +Farther off there were red things that were running. The yellow liquid +from the pool, charged with the acid of the vines, had been slow in +flowing out through that long trough. The savages could only see that +their fellows had fallen. Some mystery, something invisible and beyond +their comprehension had struck them. They ran toward the center at +first, then turned and fled--and by then the soft air blowing gently +about them had brought that strange fragrance of death. Then they, +too, lay still. + +From the distance came faintly a booming chant, two thousand voices +raised in unison. "_Tur--gona! Nu--tur--gona!_" The last of a once +mighty people were marching to their death. + +Rawson and Loah turned with one accord. Victory was theirs, but there +was no time to taste the fruits of victory. They ran with straining +muscles and gasping breath toward the distant mountain and the +marching host beyond. + + * * * * * + +"My plans are made," Rawson spoke quietly. "I must go. I shall take +the shell--the jana--and go back to the mole-men's world. I shall go +alone, and I shall die, but what of that?" His eyes lit up for a +moment. "I'll try to find _Phee-e-al_ first. If I can get him before +they get me, that will help." + +They were standing on the mountain's lower slope, Gor and Leah and the +servants of the mountain gathered near. Below, the White Ones were +massed in worshiping silence. Had not Dean-Rah-Sun saved them? And now +what else would come to pass? + +The same question had been asked by the Wise Ones, and now Rawson +turned and spoke to them. "Rotan was right," he told them. "His vision +was true. There is work I must do here before I go. Your lands, or +some of them at least, will be restored. And you will be safe forever +from what we have seen to-day. Gor will lead you wisely, and Loah...." +His voice faltered; he had kept his eyes resolutely away from the slim +figure of the girl, who had been wordless, scarcely breathing. Now she +stepped swiftly before him. + +"You must go, Dean-San," she said gently. He knew it was a term of +endearment. "You must go if you say you must. But you do not go alone, +nor die alone. Long ago the voice of the mountain spoke beautiful +words. I know now it was one of your priests telling of a woman of +your own race. Always have I remembered. 'Wheresoever thou goest, I +shall go; thy people....'" + +But Dean Rawson had gathered the slender figure, starry-eyed and +sobbing into his arms. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +_Oro and Grah_ + +[Sidenote: As part of their titanic plan, Rawson and Loah-San return +to sacrifice themselves in the flaming caverns of the Red Ones.] + +[Illustration: _Then there were footsteps approaching the chest._] + + +"The Place of Death!" said Dean Rawson. "Whoever named it had the +right idea." + +He looked out across the wide stretch of ground with its covering of +white salt almost entirely stripped of the carpet of vines. The bodies +of the mole-men lay where they had fallen; their flame-throwers still +tore futilely at the earth or stabbed upward in vain, thrusting toward +the green-gold sun that shone pitilessly down. + +"Still I do not understand," said Gor. "My people pressed the strong, +burning water from the vines and poured it into the pool as you +directed. But the Red Ones did not touch it--how could it burn them?" + +"I'll say it was strong!" said Rawson. He looked at his hands, red and +burned where the liquid had touched. "And it got stronger by standing. +It was an acid, and when it touched the white earth a gas was +formed--hydrocyanic acid gas. And that's nothing to fool with." + +He walked cautiously out where the liquid had been poured over the +white ground. No odor remained; the air was clean. Then he picked up +one of the flame-throwers and experimented with it until he found the +sliding sleeve that shut off the blast. + +"All right," he called to Gor. "Bring on your men; we've got to clean +up this place and get rid of the bodies before the sun gets in its +work. They're the ones that will go into the ocean instead of you." He +moved carefully along the straggling line of bodies, salvaging the +weapons and turning off their fearful blasts. + +They worked and slept and worked again before their gruesome task was +done and Rawson was ready to begin the other work that he had in mind. + +Beside the mouth of the great shaft, resting on the rocks, was a +cylinder, almost exactly a counterpart of the one Loah had used. But +this was larger--fully fifty of the red savages could have crowded +inside. + +"It is the only one they had," said Loah. "I have seen, and I know." + +"But they can make more," Gor argued. "This one and the one we have," +he told Rawson, "were made thousands of years ago. There were masters +of metal-work among them, and they had learned to use Oro and Grah. +Even then the people were divided. He who was then Gor and his +followers fought with the others. But he left them one _jana_--this +very one here. Then Gor followed the Pathway to the Light, though he +sealed it as you know. But--but they will build others. Sooner or +later they will come." + +"I think not," said Rawson. "Now what about this Oro and Grah +material? What was it you called them--the Sun-stone and the +Stone-that-loves-the-dark? I must know how they work." But Loah was +reluctant to experiment with the _jana_ of the Reds; she had her own +shell brought instead--and then Rawson learned the secret of what +seemed its miraculous flight. + +A cylindrical metal bubble, just buoyant enough to lift itself above +the ground--Gor and some of the others brought it from the village. +Gor brought, too, a little box which he carried with great difficulty. + + * * * * * + +"It is Grah," he said, when he showed Rawson a little scattering of +black dust within the box. "Always it tries to fall back under the +ground. Both Oro and Grah grow deep down near the Zone of the Fires; +we find them in the caves, Oro on one side and Grah on the other. Oro +is as heavy in its upward falling as Grah is in its downward. + +"Then"--he pointed to the central vertical tube in the shell--"we put +both of them in here, bringing it a few grains at a time. One falls to +one end and the other to the other. And then, with these simple +valves, we let out a little of whichever we wish--release it a grain +at a time, if that is best. We let out a few grains of Grah, and Oro, +being stronger, draws us upward; or we let a little of the Oro escape, +and we fall downward swiftly. You see it is simple, as I said." + +Rawson's reply was not an answer to Gor so much as it was an argument +with himself. "Heavy," he said. "Specific gravity beyond anything +we've ever known. Osmium, the heaviest substance we have, would be +light as a feather compared to this. But wait. This Grah, as you call +it, falls downward, but that means it falls toward the outside of the +earth. With us it would be light--light! And Oro would be heavy. New +substance--new matter! One feels only the attraction of our normal +gravitation; the other doesn't react to that at all, but is driven +outward with tremendous force by counter-gravitation, the repulsion of +this Central Sun. You've used it cleverly, but we'd have done more +with it up on top." + + * * * * * + +He was lost in thought for some minutes, muttering figures and +calculations half aloud. "Two thousand miles from the Central Sun to +us; two thousand more through the solid earth. And if that repelling +force follows Newtonian laws it will decrease as the square.... But, +coming down from up on top, normal gravity would decrease directly as +the distance!" He made scratches with one small stone upon a larger +one in lieu of paper and pencil, but, to his listeners, his muttered +words could have meant nothing. + +"Around six seventy-six hundred and seventy miles to the neutral zone, +the Zone of Fire. And a column of water--it would carry on by, plug +the shaft, check the back-pressure, and then...." For the first time +since that night when the mole-men had poured out into the crater, his +eyes were alight with hope, though his face seemed tense and grim. +Then the lines about his lips relaxed; he smiled at Loah. + +"I would like to investigate this under-world," he said, "--not very +far down. Will you take me?" + +The girl's adventurous spirit had led her on many exploring trips in +that subterranean world. She laughed happily when Rawson told her what +he wanted. "But, yes," she said; "of course I know such a place." And +from some two or three miles below, after anchoring the _jana_ +securely, she led him through a winding tunnel where he knew he was +steadily climbing. + + * * * * * + +It was a wide corridor that they followed, where the walls came +together high above their heads; he could hardly see where they met by +the light of Loah's torch. Now and then there were lateral passages, +but they were narrow, hardly more than cracks; and Rawson, looking +into them, nodded his head with satisfaction. + +Occasionally his footsteps rang hollowly on the stone, and he knew +that the floor was thin between this and other caverns below. "What an +old honeycomb it is!" he exclaimed. "And we had it all figured as +being solid. The weight is all here, of course, but it's concentrated +in that red stuff down near the neutral zone. But anyway, Loah has +shown me just what I wanted." + +He had gathered a handful of little fragments, and, keeping count of +his steps, had shifted a bit of rock to his left hand for every +hundred paces. By this he knew they must have gone five or six miles +when he reached the tunnel's high point. Many times it had widened. +Here, too, was a cave more than a hundred feet across. + +From the farther side the tunnel continued, pitching sharply downward, +but Rawson did not explore farther. "I can seal that off with a +flame-thrower," he said. "I've seen how they use them." Then he took +Loah's light and looked with every evidence of approval at the rocky +walls and the roof that seemed heavy with dew. + +He had wondered about the air, but he found that it seeped through +from that central shaft, although Loah told him that in some deeper +passages the air was bad. Here, although it was moving gently, it +seemed wet as if charged with moisture. Rawson, staring upward, felt a +drop strike him in the face, dripping from the rocks above. + +"It's a gamble," he said, "just a gamble. But the stakes are worth +while. And now, Loah-San, we will return." + + * * * * * + +He made crude work with the flame-throwers at first but finally he got +the knack, and the mouth of the tunnel beyond the big room was sealed. +Then, with the help of Loah and some few of the others, he brought in +more and more weapons of the Reds. He was curious as to their +construction, but his curiosity had to go unsatisfied. They were only +cylinders, so far as he could see, cylinders a foot long and six +inches through, of some metal with the dull lustre of aluminum. But +they were sealed, and he dared not cut one open with another +flame-thrower for fear of what might come forth. + +On the top of each cylinder a tube was connected that ended in a lava +tip; but at the base of the tube, where it joined the cylinder, was a +sliding sleeve that checked the flame to nothing when it was moved, or +opened it to the full blast. + +He had a hundred of them in the room when at last he was through--one +hundred fearful instruments of destruction. And still he told no one +of his plans; he only told Gor what he wanted done later on. "It may +not work," he had to admit to himself. "I'm just guessing at the +thickness of the rock and the power of these machines. It's a gamble, +nothing but a gamble." + +He arranged the flame-throwers in a circle along the outer wall. The +tops of the cylinders were curved, but the bottoms were flat and they +set solidly on the rock. But he tipped them backward and braced them +firmly with fragments of stone until every crooked-neck tube was +pointed upward and toward the center. Finally he was done. + + * * * * * + +It was only a matter of a few hours later when Rawson stood on the +island's end by the mouth of the shaft. In his ears was the ceaseless +rush of the air as it entered the pit; it was the only sound in a +silent world. And for the first time there came overwhelmingly upon +him a realization of what this moment meant. + +The time had come. Loah was beside him, her lovely eyes unnaturally +bright in her face from which all the blood seemed to have flowed. He +felt the slight trembling of her body as she pressed against him; he +knew she was struggling to keep back the tears. Then Rawson half +turned with one final entreaty that she let him go alone; but he left +the words unsaid--he had argued it several times before. + +Before them stood Gor, then the Wise Ones, the Servants of the +Mountain, deserting their post for the first time since the Mountain +had been given a voice. Beyond them all the people of this little +world were gathered. + +It had seemed only a fanciful dream, this thought of going; in fact, +he had been too busy, too pressed with his own preparations, to give +it thought. Now he was learning to his own surprise how closely he had +identified himself with this world and its people. It had given him +Loah; it had been a haven, a sanctuary. + +He let his eyes slowly take in the full splendor of that emerald sea, +the shining land under a green-gold sun, the Mountain in white, +crystal purity against a green-blue sky. And he was leaving it, he and +Loah; they were going to--death! + + * * * * * + +"You will remember," he said to Gor. His voice sounded dull and heavy; +it hardly seemed himself who was speaking. "You know the day and the +hour. This is the nineteenth. It is now noon--twelve o'clock in my +world. When the Voice of the Mountain says that noon again has come +you will do as I said." + +"The Mountain speaks without ceasing now," said Gor, "telling always +of what the Red Ones do. We will count the hours as they pass. In +twenty-four of those hours Gor will descend in the _jana_ of the Reds +to do as Dean Rah-Sun has commanded." + +Rawson held out his hand. He was suddenly wordless. Then Loah threw +herself into Gor's arms in one last passionate embrace--but it was she +who entered the _jana_ first. + +"Come," she said to Dean. "Oh, come quickly, Dean-San!" Then he, too +stepped inside and made the heavy door fast. + +Men of the White Ones had been holding the big cylinder down. But +Rawson, staring through the window, saw that it was Gor's own hands +that swung them out at last above the pit. + +Their craft hung quivering for an instant in the rushing air; then +Loah moved one of the levers a trifle and the blackness took them, and +only the little bull's-eyes in the metal ceiling showed the fading +glow of the Inner World, the home of the People of the Light, which +their eyes never again would see. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +_The Bargain_ + + +Rawson had taken one flame-thrower with him. He tied it securely +inside the shell so it could not shift with the changing gravity, or +be accidentally turned on. Again he clung to the curved bar against +the wall. Loah stood at the center, directing the craft. + +Once again he floated in air, then found himself standing on what had +been the ceiling of the room. The girl had released a considerable +quantity of the lifting element in the _jana's_ end, and now the black +powder in the other end of the central tube was dragging them at +terrific speed as it rushed away from the earth's center. + +Over six hundred miles, Rawson had figured, from that inner surface to +the neutral zone where the red substance of the earth, that was +neither rock nor metal, under terrific pressures, glowed with fervent +heat or formed pools like the Lake of Fire. + +Perhaps a hundred miles thick, that zone of incessant energy, and +their little craft tore through it at tremendous speed. Even so, he +was gasping for breath in the heated room when the glow faded and +again he swung over and down upon the floor as Loah checked the speed +of the flying projectile and the little ship crept slowly up into the +room where first he had seen it. + +The first that he noticed was the absence of the roar. The _jana_ +drifted slowly to one side, and Loah let it come to rest upon the +floor. Staring from the open door, Rawson saw the same familiar red +walls and floor and the black opening of the shaft from which they had +come. But the reverberating roar of the great organ-pipe was gone. He +knew that the air, for the greater part, was driving on past through +the upper shaft that was now open. The way was clear for them to +ascend. He turned to the girl. + + * * * * * + +"If my figures are right, it's some thirteen hundred miles from here +on. How did you get up there before?" + +Loah pointed to the passage where the _jana_, on that other excursion, +had been hidden. "We went through there," she said, "taking the _jana_ +with us. We went up many miles through a great crack, but it was not +straight; we had to go carefully till another passage opened through +to the shaft far above where it was sealed." + +"And the mole-men never found it?" + +"Oh, yes," said Loah, "they must have known of the crack, but they did +not know where it led. Its air was bad--a gas that choked; one could +not breathe it and live. But in our little _jana_ we were safe. They +could not use theirs; it was too large. Besides, only the priests came +down. They had their Lake of Fire, where they did horrible things. +They did not know that the shaft began again below." + +"O. K.," said Rawson, and closed the door. + +"But I wish to get out," Loah protested, "to gather more of the Oro. +We may need more, should we return." + +"We will never need it," Rawson spoke softly. "From the time we left +Gor we had just twenty-four hours to live. We must go on, and go +fast." + + * * * * * + +They had no way of measuring time, and Rawson could only guess at the +hours that passed while their little ship tore swiftly upward through +the dark. He wondered if the occasional shrill shriek that followed +the touching of their metal guides on the glassy walls could be heard +up above. + +Then, at last, Loah was driving the _jana_ slowly while she held her +light so it would shine through a window. Rawson had to restrain +himself to keep from pacing the little room like a caged animal while +the precious minutes slipped by. Now that the enemy was near he wanted +nothing but to drive on up to the end of the shaft, come out into that +world wherever the shaft ended, then try to fight his way through to +the great hall where he hoped to find Phee-e-al. And his haste made +him overestimate the passing time; their journey had been swifter than +he knew. + +"I may have passed it," Loah was saying doubtfully. "I may have come +too far." Then she interrupted herself and sprang to the controls. + +They drifted slowly back. "It is different now," Loah said; "the air +rises more swiftly than before." She stared from the windows while she +drove the _jana_ slowly up and down, trying to bring it to equilibrium +in the strong up-draft. + +The air entered the shell through a little opening with the same +pungent tang Rawson had noticed before. He had wondered about the air. +Down near the neutral zone it was dense, yet he had not minded the +pressure too greatly--and that had been puzzling. + +"Rock pressure and air pressure," he had reasoned; "they are two +different things. If the rock flowed, any air that it trapped would be +squeezed to a liquid. But it doesn't flow--that red stuff is solid; so +the air pressure is only the weight of the air column itself. But even +that should be enormous." + +He could only conclude that the lessened pressure came from that +strange counter-gravitation, the repelling force from the center of +the earth. Perhaps it tended to dissipate the molecules, held them +farther apart, prevented their squeezing in together, and battering +with a thousand little impacts on a point where one had hit before. + +Their _jana_ swayed gently as if the smooth air currents were +disturbed and were drifting them sideways; and then, at last, Loah, +peering from a window, sprang back and moved a lever. Beneath them was +the softly-cushioned thud of the shell seating itself on firm rock. + + * * * * * + +They were in another of the interminable caves, Rawson found when he +opened the door. The _jana_ was resting a few feet in from the edge of +the shaft. Cautiously they got out, but even without their weight it +had a slight negative buoyancy. + +"Oro is pulling more strongly than Grah," Dean said, and smiled. +Already the names seemed familiar to him. + +The two lifted the _jana_ and carried it back some twenty feet more +before Rawson realized how unnecessary this was. + +"We'll never be using it again," he said. "If I've guessed right it +will stay here as long as the rocks; if not--but we'll never know the +difference anyway." + +He took the flame-thrower from the car in sudden haste. "Quick, +dear," he told Loah. "God knows when the end will come. Quick, show me +the way." + +Loah knew every step of the route that took them on and upward through +a maze of twisting passages, and Rawson marveled at her sense of +direction. She flashed her light at times--the little bar of metal +that had in one hollow end a substance which absorbed the light-energy +of the Central Sun. Rawson knew how it worked. Even the lights in the +mountain room were taken out from time to time and exposed to the +sunlight that brought them back into glowing life. He had seen similar +phenomena on earth. But, for the most part, Loah kept the little metal +cap in place on the end of her torch, and they moved cautiously +through the dark. + + * * * * * + +Sounds of the Red Ones came to them at times. And once they hid in a +narrow branching cleft that came abruptly to a dead end, while a force +of red warriors marched hurriedly through the passage they had just +left. Back in their hiding place Rawson stood tense and ready, with +his weapon till the last of the enemy was gone. + +Always he was frantic at thought of the time that was slipping +past--until, at last, the narrow passage that they followed cut +transversely through another large runway that glowed faintly from +some distant light. + +With that first gleam of light there came over Dean Rawson an odd +change. Something within him had been cold with fear. Fear of the +flying minutes. Fear that Loah might have lost her way in this tangled +labyrinth of winding ways. And now, suddenly, he was care-free, filled +with an absurd joy. Nothing mattered. They were to die, but what of +that? Loah had chosen death; he would see that when it came to her, +it would be quickly and without pain. And as for himself, if before he +died he could remove this ruler of an enemy race.... + +So when Loah leaned close and whispered, "The light--it shines from +the council room of Phee-e-al," Dean replied almost gaily; "I've got +to hand it to you--you sure do know all the back alleys." Then he +stuck his head cautiously out into the dimly-lighted corridor. + +It was broad. He saw where their own little passageway went on from +the opposite side. But the light--the light! At his left, not a +hundred steps away, was a room, brilliantly lighted. And across it, in +gleaming splendor, stretched a low wall--a barrier of gold. It was the +council room, where once before he had faced Phee-e-al in all that +savage's hideous splendor. + + * * * * * + +He listened. All was silent. Then Loah whispered: "Phee-e-al comes +this way when he goes to the council room. But when he comes, or how +often, I do not know." + +Dean pressed her back into the narrow way with his hands. "Wait here!" +he said, and gave her the flame-thrower. "I've an idea!" He stepped +softly out into the broad passage and on naked, noiseless feet, moved +swiftly toward the lighted room. + +It was empty. Beyond the barrier were no red figures, nor were there +whistling voices to echo as he had heard them before. Here was the +throne where Phee-e-al had sat; here the priests had stood; there, +along the wall, were the chests. + +Fully twenty of them, each eight feet long, they stood ranged along +the three walls of that part of the room protected by the barrier. No +two of them alike; all of them were oddly carved and studded with +jewels. + +The chests were ranged in a straight row a foot or more out from the +wall. He crossed to them swiftly. About here was where that priest +must have gone. He raised one of the heavy lids till the light struck +within. + +Bones! Only fragments of a skeleton, blackened by age; a necklace of +teeth from some animal's jaw; worthless trifles for the mummery of the +priests. Then, beneath them, he saw two great fangs, a foot in length. +They were curved, sharply pointed and yellow as old ivory. + +What was it Gor had said of legends that told of ancestors coming from +the outer world? Rawson knew that he was looking at priceless relics +of the tribe, at the tusks of man's long extinct enemy, the great +sabre-toothed tiger. + + * * * * * + +But he had neither time nor thoughts to spare for marvels new or +old--he must find his gun. Yet, even then, he wondered what +undreamed-of treasures the other chests might hold--what jewels, what +paraphernalia of ancient kings. + +He must be silent! Perhaps the next great glittering container might +hold the blue gleam of his gun. And this time as the gem-studded lid +was swung upward and back to rest noiselessly against the rock wall, +Dean could not repress the audible gasp that came to his lips. + +His own pistol! He had expected to find the one weapon, but, instead, +the chest was filled with all it would hold of rifles and side arms +and cartridge belts, all mingled in one indiscriminate heap. + +They were twisted, some of them, and bent; discolored, too, evidently +by flames. On some the stocks had been burned off. + +Rawson's hands were suddenly trembling. There was one rifle that +seemed unharmed; he brought it out, and hardly heard the little +clatter that it made among the other weapons. An ammunition belt--he +slipped out a clip of cartridges, made sure they fitted his gun, and +threw one up into the firing chamber. He was fumbling for more of the +clips when there pierced through his tumultuous thoughts the +realization that he was hearing sounds not made by his own suddenly +clumsy hands. + + * * * * * + +Marching feet, whistling voices--they came from beyond the room's +farther end, beyond the entrance through which he had once been +brought a captive. He took one step back toward the broad tunnel, then +knew there were others coming there. + +There was no possible avenue of escape. He threw himself in one wild +dive into the narrow space between the chests and the wall, and pulled +himself forward under the shelter of the one back-turned lid. The +rifle was still gripped in his hands. + +By the sounds that came to him, he knew that the outer room had filled +with red warriors, and that another smaller group had come scuffing +from the passage where he had just entered. And, by the echoing cry of +shrill voices that shouted, "Phee-e-al! Phee-e-al!" he knew that the +ruler was near. + +Then there were footsteps approaching the chest. A priest no doubt; +shrill whistling told of his anger. The concealing cover was jerked +outward and down, and Rawson, staring above him, saw not the coppery +face that he had expected, but the hideous white visage of Phee-e-al +himself. + +For an instant the ruler of the mole-men stood half stooped in +petrified astonishment, and in that moment Rawson dragged himself to +his feet. No chance to use the gun--the other was upon him, his +gripping talons tearing Rawson's bare flesh. In one flashing thought, +Dean cursed himself for the uselessness of his weapon--he should have +taken a pistol, an automatic. Then, body to body with the savage, he +was dragged out over the chest. + + * * * * * + +He had been holding the rifle above him, as he struggled from his +cramped quarters. The savage had grabbed him about the shoulders, but +his hands were still free; they held the gun on high. And in the +second when he found his feet under him, as Phee-e-al dragged him +clear of the chest, Rawson brought the breech of the gun crashing down +upon the pointed skull. + +He felt the talons release their hold. The priests were rushing upon +him. Phee-e-al, too, had been only momentarily stunned--he was +springing. Then Rawson whipped the rifle down in line, and the +clamoring shrieks that filled the room with tumult were drowned under +another roar. + +He saw Phee-e-al fall. Even then, through all the pandemonium within +his own mind, he thrilled with satisfaction at sight of a little dot +and a spreading stain above Phee-e-al's heart, where only bare skin +had been before. + +The next shot took the foremost of the priests. The others paused, +hesitant for a moment, ranged out in an irregular line. Past them, +beyond the golden barrier, Rawson caught a confused glimpse of a sea +of red faces. Green flames were stabbing upward from their ready +weapons. The priests were between him and them, and there came to +Rawson in that instant, through all the chaos of fighting and +half-formed plans, the knowledge that these priests were a living +barrier that held off the flames. + +He fired once more to check them, then sprang for the wide entrance +of the tunnel. He fired again back of him, shooting wildly as he ran, +then saw Loah as she came from her hiding place with the flame-thrower +ready in her hand. + +"Quick!" he gasped. "Get back!" Then, with her, he was running +stumblingly through the dark. + + * * * * * + +There could be no escape; even while they fled he knew it. And yet +they almost made it--though the end, when it came, was one that +neither could possibly have foreseen. + +They were following a wide passage, one of the countless thoroughfares +of the Reds. It was deserted. Loah flashed her light freely. Ahead of +them the passage turned. Just short of that bend was a rift in the +rocks. + +"There!" Loah gasped. "Turn there. It will take us back to the +_jana_." But the words were followed by a flash of green from dead +ahead. + +The flames that made it came quickly after and a dozen of the red +warriors were before them, the light of their weapons slanting just +above Rawson's head. His rifle was half raised--they would at least +fight to the last. Then he realized that the green death was not +swinging downward. + +From behind them, in the corridor through which they had raced, came a +chorus of whistling shouts. Rawson whirled to find more of the red +fighters, and again, though their hissing green flames were held +ready, they did not descend. + +A priest, copper-colored, shining resplendently in the weird glow, +detached himself from the group and stepped forward under the +protection of their weapons. Loah's hand was depressing the muzzle of +Rawson's rifle. "Wait!" she said. "He wishes to speak." + + * * * * * + +The priest stopped and addressed them. Loah answered; and to Rawson it +seemed horrible that her lips and throat should be called upon to form +those whistling words. Then she turned toward him. + +"He says they will not harm you now if you surrender. Later, when they +select a new ruler, he may order you set free." + +Rawson was doing some quick thinking. The priest was lying, clumsily, +childishly, but it might be he could bargain with them. + +"Tell them this," he ordered Loah: "they are to let you go free--let +you go right now! If they do that, I'll lay down my gun. If they +don't, that priest will die before they get me. I don't think you can +make it," he added, "but go back to the _jana_. Don't stop for +anything. Drive it as fast as you can; you may still get there before +Gor does his stuff. And take the flame-thrower in case you are +followed--" He stopped; Loah was laughing. + +"Did you really think, Dean-San, that I would desert you?" Again she +laughed softly--laughing squarely in the face of that waiting death, a +laugh that was half a sob, that caught suddenly in her throat as she +stared at Dean. + +He could not read the look in her eyes as their expression changed. +"Yes," she said slowly, "yes, you are right. If I stay we both die, +quickly." + +Again her voice made whistling sounds; the priest replied. Then Loah +threw her arms around Dean and kissed him. He was gripping his rifle; +before he could take her in his arms, she was gone. She walked +swiftly, the flame-thrower in her hands, toward the dark cleft in the +rocks, through which she disappeared. And Dean, though she had done +what he really wished, felt that all of his life and strength had +gone with him with that fleeing figure. + +He placed his rifle on the floor and, straightening, held out his +empty hands; the priest's talons were upon his flesh. + +"But I got Phee-e-al, anyhow," he was thinking dully. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +_Smithy_ + + +Scarcely more than a vault in the solid rock, the room where Rawson +lay. He had seen it for an instant when the priest, after tying his +hands behind him, had hurled him viciously into the room. It had but +one entrance, though up high on one wall was a crack some two feet in +width that admitted fresh air. A little room, only some twenty feet +square; but he would not suffocate--the priests did not intend that he +should die--not yet. + +He saw one of the giant yellow workers bring a big metal plate. He put +it before the doorway; then, by the red glow, he knew that they had +sealed him in. + +"I got Phee-e-al," he thought. "I did that much to help. That may put +a crimp in their plans, check the invasion up above. But Gor didn't do +as I told him, or it didn't work. The twenty-four hours must have gone +by." + +Then, even in that thought, he found happiness. "That means that Loah +is safe," he told himself. "The shaft is clear; she's on her way back +right now." + +He pictured the _jana_ falling swiftly through that dark shaft. He saw +in his mind the beautiful figure of the girl, lithe and slender, +standing at the controls. + +About him was a silence like that of the grave; his blood pounded in +his temples like a throbbing drum. It was some time before he knew +that, with that throbbing, other faint sounds were mingled. + +They came from the wall beside him, sharp tappings muffled by +distance, the faintest whispering echo of rock striking upon rock. +_Tap-tap_ ... _tap_. A longer pause.... _Tap._ They were making dots +and dashes that blurred with the beating in his own brain. + +In that dreadful silence he strained every nerve in an agony of +listening. There was nothing more. + +He had been roughly handled by the savages. His whole body was bruised +and aching, his thoughts hazy and blurred. "Woozy," he told himself. +"Guess the old bean must have got a bad crack. Hearing things--mustn't +do that." + +Again he tried to picture the girl, speeding on toward that inner +world. Was she thinking of him? Surely she was. He could hear her +calling his name. "Dean," she was saying. "Dean-San." The words were +repeated, an agonized, ghostly whisper--repeated again, "Dean-San--oh, +Dean-San," before he knew that the sound was coming from overhead. +Then a light flashed once in the little room, and he saw her face, +looking down. + +She was beside him an instant later. "Dean-San," she was saying, "did +you think that I really would leave you?" She was pressing her lips to +his. Uncovering her light, she worked frenziedly at the metal cords +that bound his wrists, pausing only to repeat her caresses--and at +last he was free. + +"I reached the _jana_," she told him in hurried whispers, "and then I +came up. Their great room, where the Pathway to the Light begins, was +deserted. With a cord I pulled the lever, and the _jana_ vanished. I +could not leave it for them to use. Then I followed--I knew by the +sounds where they were taking you. And now, what can we do, Dean-San? +Where can we go?" + +It was real! Loah was there beside him; he had her in his arms, his +bruised, bleeding arms whose hurts he no longer felt. And then, +through his mind, flashed the question: if this was real, what of the +other--the rappings he had heard? Perhaps it hadn't been a dream. + +He lifted a fragment of rock and crashed it against the wall from +which those rappings apparently had come. Laboriously he spelled out +his name, remembering the dots and dashes from earlier flying days +when planes had been equipped with key-senders. He spelled it slowly +and waited, while only the silence beat upon him and the blood pounded +in his ears. Then he heard it. The answer came from a quicker hand: + +"Rawson--this is Smithy." + +But Smithy was dead! What could it mean? Slowly Rawson pounded out the +letters of his question: "Where--are--you?" The answer dispelled his +last doubt as to the reality of what he had heard. + +It _was_ Smithy. Others were with him, for Smithy said "we," and they +were prisoners, sealed up in a living tomb. But where? Smithy did not +know. He knew only that they were in a big room where the rocks had +been shattered and molten gold spilled on the floor. There was a hole +in the roof, but too small to get through--a round hole, about eight +inches in diameter. And, at that, Rawson interrupted to tap out a +single word. + +"Coming!" he said, and turned toward Loah and the light. + +The girl had found a metal rope in her wanderings; she had used it to +let herself down into the cave. And now it was she who helped Dean to +pull his bruised body up and into the narrow crack. Loah had clung to +the flame-thrower; they found it where she had left it up above. + +The tapping rocks she could not understand, but she knew Dean had a +definite plan in mind when he whispered: "The room where you first +found me--do you remember? Do you know the way?" + +"I will always remember," she said simply. "And, yes, I know the way." + +Rawson caught glimpses now and again of that broad thoroughfare along +which he had once traveled, a prisoner of the mole-men. But Loah knew +other and seldom-used passages that roughly paralleled it; and then, +after a time, Rawson himself knew in what direction they must go. + +He knew, too, that they had followed a circular route, and that the +room in which he had been sealed was not a great way from the place in +which Smithy was a prisoner. Yet this had been his only way to reach +it. + +When they came to a sudden sharp turn, he realized that they were +close. Beyond that bend would be the branching, lateral tunnel that +led to Smithy's prison. + +The main runway had been deserted by the Reds. Stopping often to +listen, starting at times into side passages at some fancied alarm, +they had met with no opposition. But now, from beyond the angling +passage, came the familiar shrillness of the mole-men's voices. + +Again the two concealed themselves, but no one approached. "It's a +guard we hear," Rawson whispered. "They're guarding that entrance +where we must go. They're taking no chances on Smithy's escaping." +Then he crept to the point where the passage turned, the flame-thrower +ready in his hand. + +He drew back. For the moment it seemed to him physically impossible to +turn this weapon upon them. They were savages, true, but it seemed +horrible to slash living bodies with a weapon like this. Then he +thought of the devastation those same weapons had wrought among the +people of his own world. His momentary hesitation vanished. With one +spring he leaped into the open where, a hundred feet away, red bodies +were massed, and the air above was quivering with the green jets of +their weapons. + +His own flame-thrower he had turned to a tiny point of light; now it +roared forth in fury as he swung it forward. They had no time even to +aim their weapons or to turn them on. They were stampeded by the +astounding attack. And still Rawson sickened as he saw them fall. + +There were some who, panic-stricken, dropped their cylinders and +leaped for safety in a narrow branching way. Rawson knew he should +have killed them, knew it in the instant that they vanished, but that +momentary, uncontrollable revulsion within him had stayed his hand. + +He rushed forward now, Loah still bravely at his side--past the fallen +bodies, through the choking odor of burned flesh. Grabbing up one of +the weapons that had been dropped, he thrust it into her hands and +said: "Wait here. Stand them off if they come back." Then he was +rushing up the side corridor toward a room where once, in a +far-distant past, he himself had been confined. + +The flame-thrower lighted the way. It showed him the metal plate and +the smooth, glassy rock that had been melted around its edge. He +pounded on the metal and shouted Smithy's name. + +Voices answered from within--voices almost unintelligible for the +wonder and unbelief and joy that made them a confusion of wordless +shouts. Then he stepped back and turned the blast of his weapon upon +the rock at the edge of the plate. + +The metal sheet moved at last, its top swinging slowly outward. Its +base was held by the gummy, hardening rock. Then it broke free and +crashed to the floor, and the light of Dean's weapon showed through +the black opening upon the blanched faces of men, where eyes were +still wide in disbelief. + +Though they were looking at one of their own kind, it must have taken +then a moment to realize that the naked body, clad only in a golden +loin cloth, and the hands that held one of the fearful, green-flamed +weapons, were those of a human. Then one of them broke from the +others, sprang heedlessly across the still-glowing plate, and threw +his arms about the barbaric figure. + +"Dean!" he choked. "Dean, it's really you! You're alive!" + +And Rawson's voice, too, was husky as he said: "Smithy, I thought you +were gone. The radio said they had got you, old man." + +Then other khaki-clad bodies, a dozen of them, were crowding through +the hot portal, and Rawson came suddenly to himself. + +"Quick!" he shouted. "They'll be after us in a second. Follow me." + +Loah was waiting. Her own flame-thrower spat a little jet of green; it +was the only light. Rawson saw here she had gathered up the other +weapons and had turned them off so that even their little light would +not blind her as she kept watch down the dark passage. + +"Do we want them?" Dean shouted to the others. And Smithy echoed the +question: + +"Do we want them, Colonel?" + +Colonel Culver, his face almost unrecognizable under its smears of +powder stains and blood, snapped a quick answer: "No. We outrange them +with our rifles. They're only flame-throwers, not ray projectors. Beat +it! Run like the devil!" + +Rawson snatched Loah's weapon and threw it with the others. It would +be hard going, ahead--she must not be uselessly burdened. But he kept +his own. Then with his one free hand he swept her up till she was +racing beside him as they led the way. + +"I should have kept the fire weapon," the girl protested; "I, too, can +fight." + +Rawson, speaking between breaths, reassured her: "Too heavy. Their +guns will protect us--" + +Behind them, a man's voice cried out once, a single, hoarse scream of +agony; then the rock wall took the sharp crackle of rifle fire and +threw the sound into crashing, thundering echoes. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +_Power!_ + + +A girl whose creamy body was strangely unsoiled by smoke or grime, +whose jeweled breast-plates flashed in the light of her torch while +the loose wrappings about her waist whipped against her as she ran. +And Rawson, naked but for the golden loin cloth, running beside her. +Then Smithy, and ten others in the khaki uniform of the service--it +was all that was left of the fifty who had dared the depths. And now +all of them were harried and driven like helpless animals in the +burrows and runways of that under-world. + +But not entirely helpless. Colonel Culver had been right: their rifles +outranged the flame-throwers. And Rawson, looking past that first +burst of rifle fire, saw the one flame that had reached them whip +upward as its owner fell. Others of the Reds came crowding in after, +and the jets of their weapons made little areas of light as they +crashed to the floor. Then Colonel Culver took charge of the retreat. + +Ahead of them and behind them was impenetrable darkness; only the +nearby walls were illumined by the torch that Loah had been forced to +turn on. And out of that darkness at any moment might come devastating +flames. Culver detailed two men as a rear guard and two others to run +ahead a few paces in advance. At intervals of a minute or two their +rifles would crack, and the echoes would be pierced by the whining +scream of ricochets, as their bullets glanced from the walls. + +"We may not need them up ahead," Culver shouted to Rawson. "I don't +understand it. The place seems deserted--there were plenty of them +here before!" + +"They've got something else to think of," Rawson shouted in reply. "I +killed Phee-e-al--he was their leader. But they're after us now. +They'll be running through other passages, cutting in ahead of us." + +The tunnel turned and bent upward. For a full half mile they ran +straight in a stiff climb. Between gasping breaths Colonel Culver +shouted hoarsely: "Won't it ever turn? If they bring up their damned +heat-ray machines they'll get us on a straightaway like this!" + +Then Smithy's voice outshouted his with a note of hope: "We're almost +there; I remember this place. There's where we mounted the +searchlight. They've ripped everything out. Up ahead, one turn to the +right, then a quarter mile, then a turn toward the crater. That runs +straight for a mile, but there's a field gun at the bottom of the +volcano. We'll be safe when we're on that last stretch." + + * * * * * + +Ahead of them the rifles of the two who ran in advance crashed out in +a fury of fire as a green glow appeared. But this time the flame did +not die; and Rawson, staring with hot, wide-opened eyes, saw that the +ribbon of green swept transversely across the tunnel. + +He could hardly stand when he came to a stop. Beside him Loah was +swaying with weariness. The walls echoed only the hoarse, panting +breath of the men. Then they crept slowly forward, where the passage +went steadily up. Loah's light was out; she had slipped the cap on the +torch at the first sight of that green. + +They stopped but ten feet short of the deadly blaze. From a narrow +rift in the left wall it streamed outward, the rock at the edges of +that crack turning to red at its touch. It beat upon the opposite +wall, where already the stone was melting to throw over them a white +glare and the glow of heat. And, like a shimmering, silken barrier, +whose touch could mean only instant death, it reached across the wide +tunnel at the height of a man's waist and moved slowly up and down. +The heaviest armor plate ever rolled could have formed no more +impenetrable a barrier. + +"And we almost made it," said Smithy slowly. "Look, beyond +there--another hundred feet. There's the bend in the tunnel, a sharp +turn--and we almost got around!" + +Rawson reached for Loah's light. In the wall where the flame was +striking, only a dozen steps back, he had seen another dark mouth, a +ragged crack in the rock. He sprang to the entrance; it might be there +was another way around. His first glance told the story, for he saw +the walls draw together again not a hundred feet off. + +"A blind alley," he groaned. + + * * * * * + +One of the two who had been their advance guard snapped his rifle to +his shoulder. He was aiming at the glowing crack where the green light +was issuing. + +"A ricochet," he growled. "It may go on in and mess 'em up." But there +was no whine of a glancing bullet that followed his shot; the +softened wall had cushioned the impact. + +Another man sprang beside him. He was shouting at the top of his voice +while one hand reached into a bag that hung at his waist. "Get back, +everyone," he said. "If I miss...." He did not finish the sentence, +but pulled the pin from a hand grenade, then took careful aim and +threw. + +It went high--thrown there purposely; he had not dared aim it into the +flame. But it struck the crevice fairly, and they heard it rattle on +inside. The next instant brought the crack and roar of its explosion. + +Like a winking signal light the green barrier vanished. Where it had +been was only blackness and the dying glow of molten rock. Then, a +hundred feet beyond, up close to the roof, the bend of the tunnel +turned red; it seemed bursting into flame. Far back of them, down the +long sloping way where they had come, shrill voices were +screaming--and still there was no green flame to account for that +tunnel end flaming red. + +Rawson stood motionless. Loah, and the others beside him, seemed +likewise petrified, until the voice of Culver jarred them into action. + +"The ray!" he shouted. "It's the heat ray, damn them! Quick, jump into +that cave!" + + * * * * * + +They had all retreated through fear of the grenade; they were opposite +the black place into which Rawson had looked. Loah was close beside +Dean; he threw her with all his strength into the black mouth of the +cave, then he was one of a crowding, stumbling mass of men who +followed after, and their going was lighted by a terrible torch of +flame. + +One man had stood apart from the others, farther across the wide +corridor. His khaki-clad body flashed suddenly to incandescence, then +fell to the floor. And inside the cave, where the walls came abruptly +together to cut off any further retreat, Colonel Culver spoke softly. + +"One more gone," he said. "That was Oakley. Well, he never knew what +it was that hit him--and it looks as if we'll all get the same." + +Through it all, Rawson had clung to his flame-thrower; unconsciously +his hand had held fast to the bent handle of the cylindrical weapon. +Now he set it down slowly upon the floor, then straightened his aching +body laboriously. + +Loah's light was still gleaming. He saw her eyes searching for his, +half in terror, half in wonderment. Strange men with strange +thundering weapons--he knew she was wondering if they still dared +hope, wondering if these warriors of Rawson's race might be able to +work further magic. + +Dean put one arm tenderly about her and drew her close and his other +hand came to rest upon Smithy's shoulder. + +"It's the end, dear," he told the girl softly. "It's the end of our +journey. You've been so dear and so brave. Pretty tough to lose out +when we'd almost fought clear." Then, to Smithy: "Loah came back to +save me--refused to go when she could have got away and been safe." + + * * * * * + +Already the air was stifling. The tunnel beyond the mouth of the cave +was hot, though only at its end, where the invisible ray struck the +rock surface squarely, was there red, glowing heat. Rawson suddenly +saw none of it. He was seeing in his mind the world up above, his own +world of great, free, sunlit spaces. Suddenly he was hungry for some +closer link, no matter how slight, to bind him to that world. + +"What day is it?" he asked. "Have you kept track of time?" + +Smithy looked at him wonderingly. "Yes," he said, then added: "Oh, I +see. You want to know what day this is when we die. It's the +twentieth, Dean"--he looked at the watch on his wrist--"just two +o'clock, the afternoon of the twentieth." + +Within him, Rawson felt a dull resentment. He was being denied even +this last trifling solace. "You're wrong," he said sharply. "You +slipped up on your count." + +"It doesn't make any real difference," Smithy said. But Rawson went +on: + +"We left the inner world on the nineteenth. At noon on the twentieth +Gor was to cut loose the flame-throwers, melt a hole in the floor of +the ocean. But it didn't work. I had hoped I could wipe out the +mole-men, turn a solid stream of water down a shaft for over six +hundred miles. It would have gone through the Zone of Fire, come +flooding up into the mole-men world and spread out all over down deep +where it's hot. It would have hit the Lake of Fire--all that!" + +"I don't know what you are talking about, Dean." Smithy's voice was +intentionally soothing; he knew Rawson was talking wildly. "But I know +I am right on the time. We've kept track of it every hour since--" + +Rawson's talk had sounded like insanity in Smithy's ears. He would +have gone on--he didn't want to see Dean Rawson go out like that--but +now he stopped. The rock was quivering beneath his feet. + +And now Rawson, with a wild wordless cry, threw himself toward the +flame-thrower on the floor. His voice rose to what was almost a +scream. "It's worked!" he shouted in a delirium of joy. "It's the end +of the brutes!" + + * * * * * + +Then, in words which the others could not comprehend but which somehow +fired them with his own emotion: "Gor has cut it loose! Water, +millions of tons of it! The Zone of Fire--steam!..." He threw himself +flat on the floor as close to the hot mouth of the cave as he dared +go, and the green flame of his weapon ripped outward and up as he +aimed it. + +From the passage, where it sloped downward toward the source of the +heat ray, the sound of shrill, whistling voices had swelled louder. +The whole tunnel now glowed green from the flames of an advancing +horde. They were bringing their ray projector with them, Rawson knew, +not that its beam was visible, but the white, dazzling glow from the +end wall where the tunnel turned was still there. + +"Shoot above me!" Rawson shouted. "Don't stick your guns out into that +ray, but aim as straight down the tunnel as you can. Keep 'em busy. +Keep 'em from coming too close." + +Above his head he heard the beginning of rifle fire as the men crowded +close to aim at the opposite wall at as flat an angle as they could. +The air grew shrill with the sound of ricochets as the bullets +glanced, but still the enemy came on, as their screeching voices told. + +His own weapon was aimed up above. The roof of the tunnel was rough +and broken. He directed the flame against the top of a great black +granite block. In one place it was fractured. If he could cut it off +above, make it fall to the steeply slanting floor.... He worked the +full force of the blast methodically along the line he had chosen. + + * * * * * + +The air of the tunnel had been blowing gently, but now it came in +sharp gusts that whipped in through the mouth of the cave, while it +brought an unending growl and roar like distant gunfire from deep +within the earth. The breeze had swelled to a steady blast when the +rock crashed down. + +"But that's no use," Culver had shouted, when the deafening sound of +its fall had ceased. "They'll melt it in a second with their ray." +Even as he spoke the great mass of granite softened and rolled +downward as the enemy shot their ray on its lower side. The heat of it +struck blastingly into the entrance to their retreat, yet still Rawson +kept on, sawing doggedly with the weapon of flame at other great +blocks above. + +Now that distant thunder grew hugely in volume, and again the rocks +trembled beneath them. The wind in the tunnel grew suddenly to a wild +blast. It brought to them from a thousand other passages, the shrill, +demoniac shrieking of air that was torn and ripped on projecting +ledges of rock. Mingled with it was the sound of voices that screamed +in terror, and the echo of feet running in mad flight down the tunnel. + +The mass of stone, that had been melting under the invisible ray, +cooled to red, then to black. Outside, the tunnel, now a place of +roaring winds, was lighted only by the single flame of Dean's weapon. + +"They've gone!" Culver shouted. "The ray's off. Get outside! Now we'll +run for it!" And, with the others, Rawson sprang to his feet and +leaped out into the tunnel which was no longer a place of death. + + * * * * * + +He heard the sound of their hurrying feet and a voice that cried: +"Look out for the turn--the rock's hot," but he did not look after +them. He was standing squarely, bracing himself in the blast of air, +still directing the flame upon a block that hung stubbornly and would +not let go. + +He knew that Loah alone stood near. He heard other feet; someone was +returning. Then Smithy was upon him, almost jarring him from his +careful pose. Smithy was shouting. + +"Come back, Dean!" he cried. "Are you crazy? Don't you know they'll be +after us again?" + +Rawson sprang as the big rock let go. It, too, crashed deafeningly +upon the floor and rolled sluggishly downward beside the high hummock +of glass that the first rock had become. They bulked hugely in the +passage. They were eight or ten feet high, reaching across from one +wall to the other. + +Above them was still a space of four feet; Rawson estimated it +carefully while he looked at the ceiling above. Then he shook off +Smithy's hand that was dragging at him and returned to the attack; for +now, above the top of the barricade he had built, white ribbons of +vapor were streaming. He had to shout to his utmost to make Smith hear +above the shrill shriek of the blast. + +"Steam!" he screamed into Smithy's ear. "Live steam! We could never +make it--before we got to the top we'd be cooked to a pulp. I've got +to block it, got to seal it off." A whole section of the ceiling tore +loose as he spoke, and the wind raised its voice like the scream of a +wounded animal--or the cry of an overwhelmed and stricken people--as +it tore through the space that remained. + + * * * * * + +It whipped the molten drops as they fell and made of them a deadly +rain. Rawson, staring through the clouds of hot steam that now wrapped +him about, called to Smithy to take Loah to safety, and kept the flame +where it should be--until at length the last aperture was closed, the +last gap in the wall filled in. And even after that Rawson kept the +flame still playing above that wall till he had melted rock and more +rock that flowed down to make the barrier a single heavy, solid mass. + +Steam was coming now from the narrow cleft where the green light had +flashed out to bar their way. But that was simple, and he sealed the +gap shut with his flame. + +He was gasping. The radiant heat from that molten mass had been +torture that his naked body could never have borne but for the +desperate necessity that drove him. + +Smithy and Loah were again beside him. "Now," he choked, "we can go, +but if there are any cross passages I'll have to block them too." + +"There aren't," said Smithy, and added: "I thought you were crazy. +You've saved us all, Dean; we never could have made it to the top. +That steam was getting hot--hot as if it had come right out of hell." + +"It did," said Rawson. Then the flame-thrower fell from his nerveless +hand. He was swaying; his knees were trembling with weakness when +Smithy and Loah, on either side, took his burned arms tenderly and +helped him on where the others had gone. + +Colonel Culver and a rescue party met them halfway. The Colonel had +seen his men safely to the bottom of the volcanic pit. Others had run +from their station beside a field gun to meet them; then Culver had +called for volunteers and had gone back. And now there were plenty of +willing arms to help. + + * * * * * + +The big lift, with its platforms of metal plates, awaited them at the +tunnel's end. There was room on it now for all who were left; there +was no crowding of men's bodies as there had been on the downward +passage. Rawson was stretched on the floor-plates, whose touch was +cool to his tortured body. Loah was seated that his head might rest +in her lap on that absurd little fragment of skirt. She bent above +him, whispering brokenly: "Dean-San--my dear--my own Dean-San! We +live, Dean-San. I can scarcely believe it, but I know that we live, +for I still have you." + +But Dean was able to stand when that journey was done. First, though, +there were men who placed him carefully on a stretcher and carried +him, when he commanded, to the crater's outer rim. On the ashy floor +of the crater a big transport was waiting with idling motors, but Dean +would not let them put him inside. He wanted to look out across the +world, to see it in reality as he had seen it in his own mind when all +hope was gone. He wanted to look out once more across Tonah Basin and +let his eyes rest upon country he had known. + +Loah and Smithy walked beside him, as the first-aid men carried him +toward that distant rim. The rocks there were cleft--it was the place +where he first had seen the inside of the crater's cup. There he had +them put him down; and, with the help of Loah and Smithy, he got +slowly to his feet. While they lifted him, he wondered at the sound in +this desert world where no sound should be. A terrific rushing, an +endless roar--and then his eyes found the clouds of steam. + + * * * * * + +Below him was the Basin, the tangled wreckage of his camp. And there, +where the derrick had stood, was a tall plume of white. It did not +begin close to the ground--superheated steam, until it cools and +condenses to water vapor, is invisible--but a hundred feet above the +sand. And, from there on up, two thousand feet sheer into the air, was +a straight shaft of vapor, rolling up for another thousand feet into +billowing clouds that the afternoon sun turned to glorious white. + +"Power!" gasped Rawson. "Power--and it will be like that +indefinitely!" Then he laughed weakly. "I had to go down there to do +it, to make Erickson richer, but it was worth it. In there the ocean +will slowly subside. Gor and his people will find their lost lands; +the column of water in the shaft will hold the back-pressure of steam. +And here, I have Loah, and that's all--but that's enough!" + +He put one arm, still with the bandages of the first-aid men, about +the girl. "I hope you'll be happy, dear," he said softly, and turned +back. But Smithy barred the way. + +"That isn't all," said Smithy jubilantly. "You see, Dean, Erickson +fired you--Erickson thought you had run out on him. Instead of backing +you up, he quit. So I bought them all out. Whatever is there, +Dean--and it's worth more millions than I dare to think about--you own +half of! Now get back on that stretcher. Just because you've saved all +our necks up here on top of the earth, you mustn't think you can keep +an Army ship waiting all day!" + +(_The End._) + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Two Thousand Miles Below, by Charles Willard Diffin + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO THOUSAND MILES BELOW *** + +***** This file should be named 29965.txt or 29965.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/9/6/29965/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, 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. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |