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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/33016-8.txt b/33016-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..78fa67c --- /dev/null +++ b/33016-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10395 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Astounding Stories, August, 1931, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Astounding Stories, August, 1931 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: June 28, 2010 [EBook #33016] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ASTOUNDING STORIES, AUGUST, 1931 *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + ASTOUNDING + + STORIES + + 20¢ + + + _On Sale the First Thursday of Each Month_ + + + W. M. CLAYTON, Publisher + HARRY BATES, Editor + + +The Clayton Standard on a Magazine Guarantees + + _That_ the stories therein are clean, interesting, vivid, by leading + writers of the day and purchased under conditions approved by + the Authors' League of America; + + _That_ such magazines are manufactured in Union shops by American + workmen; + + _That_ each newsdealer and agent is insured a fair profit; + + _That_ an intelligent censorship guards their advertising pages. + + +_The other Clayton magazines are:_ + +ACE-HIGH MAGAZINE, RANCH ROMANCES, COWBOY STORIES, CLUES, FIVE-NOVELS +MONTHLY, ALL STAR DETECTIVE STORIES, RANGELAND LOVE STORY MAGAZINE, +WESTERN ADVENTURES, WESTERN LOVE STORIES and JUNGLE STORIES. + +_More than Two Million Copies Required to Supply the Monthly Demand +for Clayton Magazines._ + + * * * * * + + + + +VOL. VII, No. 2 CONTENTS AUGUST, 1931 + + +THE DANGER FROM THE DEEP RALPH MILNE FARLEY 149 + + _Marooned on the Sea-Floor, His Hoisting Cable Cut, Young Abbot Is + Left at the Mercy of the Man-Sharks._ + +BROOD OF THE DARK MOON CHARLES WILLARD DIFFIN 168 + + _Once More Chet, Walt and Diane Are United in a Wild Ride to the Dark + Moon. But This Time They Go as Prisoners of Their Deadly Enemy + Schwartzmann._ (Beginning a Four-Part Novel.) + +IF THE SUN DIED R. F. STARZL 198 + + _Tens of Millenniums After the Death of the Sun There Comes a Young + Man Who Dares to Open the Frozen Gate of Subterranea._ + +THE MIDGET FROM THE ISLAND H. G. WINTER 214 + + _Garth Howard, Prey to Half the Animals of the Forest, Fights Valiantly + to Regain His Lost Five Feet of Size._ (A Complete Novelette.) + +THE MOON WEED HARL VINCENT 236 + + _Unwittingly the Traitor of the Earth, Van Pits Himself Against the + Inexorably Tightening Web of Plant-Beasts He Has Released from the + Moon._ + +THE PORT OF MISSING PLANES CAPTAIN S. P. MEEK 255 + + _In the Underground Caverns of the Selom, Dr. Bird Once Again Locks + Wills with the Subversive Genius, Saranoff._ + +THE READERS CORNER ALL OF US 273 + + _A Meeting Place for Readers of Astounding Stories_ + + * * * * * + +Single Copies, 20 Cents (In Canada, 25 Cents) Yearly Subscription, $2.00 + +Issued monthly by The Clayton Magazines, Inc., 80 Lafayette Street, +New York, N. Y. W. M. Clayton, President; Francis P. Pace, Secretary. +Entered as second-class matter December 7, 1929, at the Post Office at +New York, N. Y., under Act of March 3, 1879. Title registered as a +Trade Mark in the U. S. Patent Office. Member Newsstand Group. For +advertising rates address The Newsstand Group, Inc., 80 Lafayette +Street, New York; or The Wrigley Bldg., Chicago. + + * * * * * + + + + +The Danger from the Deep + +_By Ralph Milne Farley_ + +[Illustration: _He caught a glimpse of the grinning fish-face._] + + +[Sidenote: Marooned on the sea-floor, his hoisting cable cut, young +Abbot is left at the mercy of the man-sharks.] + +Within a thick-walled sphere of steel eight feet in diameter, with +crystal-clear fused-quartz windows, there crouched an alert young +scientist, George Abbot. The sphere rested on the primeval muck and +slime at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, one mile beneath the +surface. + +The beam from his 200-watt searchlight, which shot out through one of +his three windows into the dark blue depths beyond, seemed faint +indeed, yet it served to illuminate anything which crossed it, or on +which it fell. + +For a considerable length of time since his descent to the ocean +floor, young Abbot had clung to one of the thick windows of his +bathysphere, absorbed by the marine life outside. Slender small fish +with stereoscopic eyes, darted in and out of the beam of light. +Swimming snails floated by, carrying their own phosphorescent +lanterns. Paper-thin transparent crustaceans swam into view, followed +by a few white shrimps, pale as ghosts. Then a mist of tiny fish swept +across his field of vision. Abbot cupped his face in his hands, and +stared out. + +The incongruous thought flashed across his mind that thus he had often +sat by the window of his club in New York, and gazed out at the +passing motor traffic. + +His searchlight cut a sharp swath through the blue muck. More than +once he thought he saw large moving fish-like forms far away. + +"Speed up the generator," he called into his phone. + +Immediately the shaft of light brightened. He set about trying to +focus upon one of those dim elusive shapes which had so intrigued him. + + * * * * * + +But suddenly the searchlight went out! Intent on repairing the +apparatus as rapidly as possible, Abbot snapped the button-switch, +which ought to have illuminated the interior of his diving-sphere; but +the lights did not go on. Then he noticed that the electric fan, on +which he depended to keep his air-supply properly mixed, had stopped. + +He spoke into the telephone transmitter, which hung in front of his +mouth: "Hi, there, up on the boat! My electric power is cut off. I'm +down here with my fan stopped and my heat cut off. Hoist me up, and be +quick about it!" + +"O.K., sir." + +As the young man waited for the winch to get under way on the boat a +mile above him, he pulled out his electric pocket flashlight and sent +its feeble ray out through his quartz-glass window into the dim +royal-purple depths beyond, in one last attempt to get a look at those +mysterious fish-shapes which had so intrigued him. + +And then he saw one of them distinctly. + +Evidently they had swum closer when the glow of his searchlight had +stopped; and so the sudden flash of his pocket-light had taken them by +surprise. + +For, as he snapped it on, he caught an instant's glimpse of a grinning +fish-face pressed close against the outside of his thick window-pane, +as though trying to peer in at him. The fish-face somewhat resembled +the head of a shark, except that the mouth was a bit smaller and not +quite so leeringly brutal, and the forehead was rather high and domed. + +But what most attracted Abbot's attention, in the brief instant before +the startled fish whisked away in a swirl of phosphorescent foam, was +the fact that, from beneath each of the two pectoral fins, there +protruded what appeared to be a skinny human arm, terminating in three +fingers and a thumb! + +Then the fish was gone. Abbot snapped off his little light. + +The diving-sphere quivered, as the hoisting-cable tautened. But +suddenly the sphere settled back to the bottom of the sea with a +jarring thud. "Cable's parted, sir!" spoke a frantic voice in his +ear-phones. + + * * * * * + +For a moment George Abbot sat stunned with horror. Then his mind began +to race, like a squirrel in a cage, seeking some way of escape. + +Perhaps he could manage to unscrew the 400-pound trap door at the top +of the sphere, and shoot to the surface, with the bubbling-out of the +confined air. But his scientifically trained mind made some rapid +calculations which showed him this was absurd. + +At the depth of a mile, the pressure is roughly 156 atmospheres, that +is to say, 156 times the air-pressure at the surface of the earth; and +the moment that his sphere was opened to this pressure, he would be +blown back inwardly away from the man-hole, and the air inside his +sphere would suddenly be compressed to only 1/156 of its former +volume. + +Not only would this pressure be sufficient to squash him into a +mangled pulp, but also the sudden compression of the air inside the +sphere would generate enough heat to fry that mangled pulp to a crisp +cinder almost instantly. + +As George Abbot came to a full realization of the horror of these +facts, he recoiled from the trap-door as though it were charged with +death. + +"For Heaven's sakes, do something!" he shrieked in agony into the +transmitter. + +"Courage, sir," came back the reply. "We are rigging up a grapple just +as fast as we can. Long before your oxygen gives out, we shall slide +it down to you along the telephone line, which is the only remaining +connection between us. When it settles about your sphere, and you can +see its hooks outside your window by the light of your pocket-flash, +let us know, and we'll trip the grapple and haul you up." + +"Thank you," replied the young man. + + * * * * * + +He was calm now, but it was an enforced and numb kind of calmness. +Mechanically he throttled down his oxygen supply, so as to make it +last longer. Mechanically he took out his notebook and pencil and +started to write down, in the dark, his experiences; for he was +determined to leave a full account for posterity, even though he +himself should perish. + +After setting down a categorical description of the successive +partings of the electric light cable and the hoist cable, and his +thoughts and feelings in that connection, he described in detail the +shark with hands, which he had seen through the window of his sphere. +He tried to be very explicit about this, for he realized that his +account would probably be laid, by everyone, to the disordered +imagination of his last dying moments; being a true scientist, George +Abbot wanted the world to believe him, so that another sphere would be +built and sent down to the ocean depths, to find out more about these +peculiar denizens of the deep. + +Of course, no one would believe him. This thought kept drumming in his +ears. No one--except Professor Osborne. Old Osborne would believe! + +George Abbot's mind flashed back to a conversation he had had with the +old professor, just before the oil interests had sent him on this +exploring trip to discover the source of the large quantities of +petroleum which had begun to bubble up from the bottom of a certain +section of the Pacific very near where Abbot now was. + + * * * * * + +Osborne had said, "This petroleum suggests a gusher to me. And what +causes gushers? Human beings, boring for oil, to satisfy human needs." + +"But, Professor," Abbot had objected, "there can't be any human beings +at the bottom of the sea!" + +"Why not?" Professor Osborne had countered. "Life is supposed to have +originated spontaneously in the slime of the ocean depths; therefore +that part of the earth has had a head-start on us in the game of +evolution. May not this head-start have been maintained right down to +date, thus producing at the bottom of the sea a race superior to +anything upon the dry land?" + +"But," Abbot had objected further, "if so, why haven't they come up to +visit or conquer us? And why haven't we ever found any trace of them?" + +"Quite simple to explain," the old professor had replied. "Any +creature who can live at the frightful pressures of the ocean depths +could never survive a journey even halfway to the surface. It would be +like our trying to live in an almost perfect vacuum. We should +explode, and so would these denizens of the deep, if they tried to +come up here. Even one of their dead bodies could not be brought to +the surface in recognizable form. No contact with them will ever be +possible, nor will they ever constitute a menace to any one--for which +we may thank the Lord!" + +George Abbot now reviewed this conversation as he crouched in his +diving-sphere in the purple darkness of the marine depths. Yes, old +Osborne would believe him. The diary must be written for Osborne's +eyes. + + * * * * * + +Abbot sent another beam from his pocket light suddenly out into the +water; and this time he surprised several of the peculiar fish. These, +like the first, had arms and hands and high intelligent foreheads. + +Then suddenly Abbot laughed a harsh laugh. Old Osborne had been wrong +in one thing, namely in saying that the super-race of the deep would +never be a menace to anyone. They were being a menace to George Abbot, +right now, for it was undoubtedly they who had cut his cables. +Probably they were possessed of much the same scientific curiosity +with regard to him as he was with regard to them, and so they had +determined to secure him as a museum specimen. + +The idea was a weird one. He laughed again, mirthlessly. + +"What is the matter, sir?" came an anxious voice in his ear-phones. + +"Hurry that grapple!" was his reply. "I have found out what cut my +cables. There are some very intelligent-looking fish down here, and I +think they want me for--" + +An ominous click sounded in his ears. Then silence. + +"Hello! Hello there!" he shouted. "Can you hear me up on the boat?" + +But no answer came back. The line remained dead. The strange fish had +cut George Abbot's last contact with the upper world. The +grapple-hooks could never find him now, for there was now not even a +telephone cable to guide them down to his sphere. + +The realization that he was hopelessly lost, and that he had not much +longer to live, came as a real relief to him, after the last few +moments of frantic uncertainty. + + * * * * * + +Hoping that his sphere would eventually be found, even though too late +to do him any good, he set assiduously to work jotting down all the +details which he could remember of those strange denizens of the deep, +the man-handed sharks, which he was now firmly convinced were the +cause of his present predicament. + +He stared out through one of his windows into the brilliant blue +darkness, but did not turn on his flashlight. How near were these +enemies of his, he wondered? + +The presence of those menacing man-sharks, just outside the +four-inch-thick steel shell, which withstood a ton of pressure for +each square inch of its surface, began to obsess young Abbot. What +were they doing out there in the watery-blue midnight? Perhaps, having +secured his sphere as a scientific specimen, they were already +preparing to cut into it so as to see what was inside. That these +fish could cut through four inches of steel was not so improbable as +it sounded, for had they not already succeeded in severing a rubber +cable an inch and a half thick, containing two heavy copper wires, and +also two inches of the finest, non-kinking steel rope! + +The young scientist flashed his pocket torch out through the thick +quartz pane, but his enemies were nowhere in sight. Then he fell to +calculating his oxygen supply. His normal consumption was about half a +quart per minute, at which rate his two tanks would be good for +thirty-six hours. His chemical racks contained enough soda-lime to +absorb the excess carbon dioxide, enough calcium chloride to keep down +the humidity and enough charcoal to sweeten the body odors for much +more than that period. + +For a moment, the thought of these facts encouraged him. He had been +down less than two hours. Perhaps the boat above him could affect his +rescue in the more than thirty-four hours which remained! + + * * * * * + +But then he realized that he had failed to take into consideration the +near-freezing temperature of the ocean depths. This temperature he +knew to be in the neighborhood of 39 degrees Fahrenheit--even though +no thermometer hung outside his window, as none could withstand the +frightful pressures at the bottom of the sea. For it is one of the +remarkable facts of inductive science that man has been able to figure +out _a priori_ that the temperature at all deep points of the ocean, +tropic as well as arctic, must always be stable at approximately 39 +degrees. + +Abbot was clad only in a light cotton sailor suit, and now that his +source of heat had been cut off by the severing of his power lines, +his prison was rapidly becoming unbearably chilly. His thick steel +sphere constituted such a perfect transmitter of heat that he might +almost as well have been actually swimming in water of 39 degrees +temperature, so far as comfort was concerned. + +Abbot's emotions ran all the gamut from stupefaction, through dull +calmness, clear-headed thought, intense but aimless mental activity, +nervousness, frenzy, and insane delirium, back to stupefaction again. + +During one of his periods of calmness, he figured out what an almost +total impossibility there was of the chance that his ship, one mile +above him on the surface, could ever find his sphere with grappling +hooks. Yet he prayed for that chance. A single chance in a million +sometimes does happen. + + * * * * * + +Several hours had by now elapsed since the parting of the young +scientist's cables. It was bitterly cold inside the sphere. In order +to keep warm, he had to exercise during his calm moments as +systematically as his cramped quarters would permit. During his +frantic moments he got plenty of exercise automatically. And of course +all this movement used up more than the normal amount of oxygen, so +that he was forced to open the valves on his tanks to two or three +times their normal flow. His span of further life was thereby cut to +ten or twelve hours, if indeed he could keep himself warm for that +long. + +Why didn't the people on the boat do something! + +He was just about to indulge in one of his frantic fits of despair, +when he heard or felt--the two senses being strangely commingled in +his present situation--a clank or thump upon the top of his +bathysphere. Instantly hope flooded him. Could it be that the one +chance in a million had actually happened, and that a grapple from the +boat above had actually found him? + +With feverish expectation, he pressed the button of his little +electric pocket flashlight, and sent its feeble beam out through one +of the quartz-glass windows into the blue-black depths beyond. + +No hooks in front of this window. He tried the others. No hooks there, +either. But he did see plenty of the superhuman fish. Eighteen of +them, he counted, in sight at one time. And also two huge snake-like +creatures with crested backs and maned heads, veritable sea-serpents. + +As there was nothing the young man could do to assist in the grappling +of his sphere by his friends in the boat above, he devoted his time to +jotting down a detailed description of these two new beasts and of +their behavior. + +One of the sharks appeared to be leading or driving them up to the +bathysphere; and when they got close enough, Abbot was surprised to +see that they wore what appeared to be a harness! + + * * * * * + +The clanking upon the bathysphere continued, and now the young man +learned its cause. It was not the grapple hooks from his ship, but +chains--chains which the man-armed sharks were wrapping around the +bathysphere. + +Two more of the harnessed sea-serpents swam into view, and these two +were hitched to a flat cart: an actual cart with wheels. The chains +were attached to the harness of the original two beasts; they swam +upward and disappeared from view; and the sphere slowly rose from the +mucky bottom of the sea, to be lowered again squarely on top of the +cart. The cart jerked forward, and a journey over the ocean floor +began. + +Then the little pocket torch dimmed to a dull red glow, and the scene +outside faded gradually from view. Abbot switched off the now useless +light and set to work with scientific precision to record all these +unbelievable events. + +In his interest and excitement, he had forgotten the ever-increasing +cold; but gradually, as he wrote, the frigidity of his surroundings +was forced on his consciousness. He turned on more oxygen, and +exercised frantically. Meanwhile the cart, carrying his bathysphere, +bumped along over an uneven road. + +From time to time, he tried his almost exhausted little light, but its +dim red beam was completely absorbed by the blue of the ocean depths, +and he could make out nothing except two bulking indistinct shapes, +writhing on ahead of him. Finally even this degree of visibility +failed, and he could see absolutely nothing outside. + +He was now so chilled and numb that he could no longer write. With a +last effort, he noted down that fact, and then put the book away in +its rack. + +He began to feel drowsy. Rousing himself, he turned on more oxygen. +The effect was exhilaration and a feeling of silly joy. He began to +babble drunkenly to himself. His head swam. His mind was in a daze. + + * * * * * + +It seemed hours later when he awoke. Ahead of him in the distance +there was a dim pale-blue light, against which there could be seen, in +silhouette, the forms of the two serpentine steeds and their fish-like +drivers. Abbot's hands and feet were completely numb, but his head was +clear. + +As they drew nearer to the light, it gradually took form, until it +turned out to be the mouth of a cave. The cart entered it. + +Down a long tunnel they progressed, the light getting brighter and +brighter as they advanced. The color of the light became a golden +green. The rough stone walls of the tunnel could now be seen; and +finally there appeared, ahead, two semicircular doors, swung back +against the sides of the passage. + +Beyond these doors, the tunnel walls were smooth and exactly +cylindrical, and on the ceiling there were many luminous tubes, which +lit up the place as brightly as daylight. The cart came to a stop. + +The young scientist could now see with surprising distinctness his +captors and their serpentine steeds, and even the details of the +chains and the harness. He tried to pick up his diary, so as to jot +down some points which he had theretofore missed; but his hands were +too numb. But at least he could keep on observing; so he glued his +eyes to the thick quartz window-pane once more. + +A short distance ahead in the passage there was another pair of doors. +Presently these swung open and the cavalcade moved forward. Five or +six successive pairs of doors were passed in this manner, and then the +sea-serpents began to thrash about and become almost unmanageable. It +was evident that some change not to their liking had taken place in +their surroundings. + + * * * * * + +At last, as one of the portals swung open, young Abbot saw what +appeared to be four deep-sea diving-suits. Could these suits contain +human beings? And if so, who? It seemed incredible, for no diving-suit +had ever been devised in which a man could descend to the depth of one +mile, and live. + +These four figures, whatever they were, came stolidly forward and took +charge of the cart. One of the sharks swam up to them and appeared to +talk to them with its hands. Then the sharks unhitched the two +sea-serpents and led them to the rear, and Abbot saw them no more. + +The four divers picked up the chains, and slowly towed the cart +forward, their clumsy, ponderous movements contrasting markedly with +the swift and sure swishings which had characterized the man-sharks +and their snake-like steeds. + +Several more pairs of doors were passed, and then there met them four +figures in less cumbersome diving-suits, like those ordinarily used by +men just below the surface of the sea. One of the deep-sea divers then +pressed his face close to the outside of one of the windows of the +bathysphere, as though to take a look inside; but the four newcomers +waved him away, and hurriedly picked up the chains. Nevertheless, in +that brief instant, Abbot had seen within the head-piece of the diver +what appeared to be a bearded human face. + +Several more pairs of doors were passed. The four deep-sea divers +floundered along beside the cart, quite evidently having more and more +difficulty of locomotion as each successive doorway was passed, until +finally they lay down and were left behind. + +At last the procession entered a section of tunnel which was square, +instead of circular, and in which there was a wide shelf along one +side about three feet above the floor. The four divers then dropped +the chains, and one by one took a look at Abbot through his window. + +And he at the same time took a most interested look at them. + +They had unmistakable human faces! + + * * * * * + +He must be dreaming! For even if Osborne was right about his supposed +super-race at the bottom of the sea, this race could not be human, for +the pressures here would be entirely too great. No human being could +possibly stand two thousand pounds per square inch! + +Having satisfied their curiosity, the four divers pulled themselves up +onto the shelf, and sat there in a row with their legs hanging over. + +Abbot glanced upward at the ceiling lights, but these had become +strangely blurred. There seemed to be an opaque barrier above him, and +this barrier seemed to be slowly descending. The lights blurred out +completely, and were replaced by a diffused illumination over the +entire ripply barrier. And then it dawned on the young man that this +descending sheet of silver was the surface of the water. He was in a +lock, and the water was being pumped out. + +The surface settled about the helmets of the divers, and their helmets +disappeared; then their shoulders and the rest of them. At last it +reached the level of Abbot's window. The divers could again be seen, +and among then on the shelf there stood a half dozen naked bearded +men, clad only in loin-cloths. They had evidently entered the lock +while the water was subsiding. + + * * * * * + +These men unbuckled the helmets of the divers and helped them out, and +then splashed down into the water and peered in through the windows of +the bathysphere. Presently some of them left through a door at the end +of the platform, but soon reappeared with staging, which they set up +around the sphere. Then, climbing on top, they got to work on the +man-hole cover. + +As George Abbot realized their purpose, he became frantic. Although +these men appeared to be human, just like himself, yet his +scientifically-trained mind told him that they must be of some very +special anatomical structure, in order to be able to withstand the +immense pressures at the bottom of the Pacific. It was all right for +them to be out there, but it would be fatal to him! + +And then the heavy circular door above him began slowly to revolve. + +This was terrible! In a moment the crushing pressures of the depths +would come seeping in. Rising unsteadily upon his knees, the young man +tried with his fingers to resist the rotation of the door; but it +continued to turn. + +Yet no pressure could be felt. The door became completely unscrewed. +It was pried up, and slid off the top of the bathysphere, to crash +upon the floor outside. Inquisitive bearded faces peered down through +the hole. + +Young Abbot slumped to the cold bottom of the sphere and stared back +at them. He was saved; incredibly saved! These were real people, the +air was real air and he must therefore be on the surface of the earth, +instead of at the bottom of the Pacific as he had imagined! With a +sigh of relief, he fainted.... + + * * * * * + +When he came to his senses again, he was lying in a bed in a small +room. Bending over him was the sweetest feminine face that he had ever +seen. + +The girl seemed to be about twenty years of age. She was clad in a +clinging robe of some filmy green substance. Her hair was honey-brown, +short and curly, and her forehead high and intelligent. Her eyes, an +indescribable shade of deep violet, were matchlessly set off by her +ivory skin. + +The young man smiled up at her, and she smiled back. Thus far it had +not occurred to him to wonder where he was, or why. No recollection of +his recent strange adventures came to him. To him this was an exotic +dream, from which he did not care to awake. + +She spoke. Her words were unintelligible, and unlike any language +which George Abbot knew or had even heard; and he was an accomplished +linguist in addition to his other attainments. + +And her words were not all that was strange about her speech, for the +very tones of her voice sounded completely unhuman, although not +displeasing. Her talk had a metallic ring to it, like the brassy blare +of temple gongs, and yet was so smooth and subdued as to be sweeter +than any sound that the young scientist had ever heard before. + +"Beautiful dream fairy," replied the enraptured young man, "I haven't +the slightest idea what you are saying, but keep right on. I like it." + +His own voice sounded crass and crude compared to hers. At his first +words she gave a start of surprise, but thereafter the sound did not +appear to grate on her ears. + + * * * * * + +Then one of the bearded men in loin-cloths entered, and he and the +girl talked together, quite evidently about their patient. The man's +voice had the same strange metallic quality to it as that of the girl, +but was deeper, so that it boomed with the rich notes of a bell. + +At the sight of the man, young Abbot's memory swept back, and he +remembered the adventure of his diving-sphere, and its capture, one +mile down, by the strange shark-fish with human hands and arms. But +how he had reached the surface of the earth again, he couldn't figure +out. Nor did he particularly care. + +The strange man withdrew, and the girl sat down beside the bed and +smiled at Abbot. He smiled back at her. + +Presently another girl entered and called, "Milli!" + +The girl beside the bed started, and looking up asked some question, +to which the other replied. + +The newcomer brought in some strange warm food in a covered dish and +then withdrew. The first girl proceeded to feed her patient. + +After the meal, which tasted unlike anything which the young man had +ever eaten before, the beautiful nurse again essayed conversation with +him. She seemed perplexed and a bit frightened that he could not +understand her words. Somehow, the young man sensed that this girl had +never heard any other language than her own, and that she did not even +know that other languages existed. + + * * * * * + +Strengthened by his food, he determined to set about learning her +language as soon as possible. So he pointed at her and asked, "Milli?" + +She nodded, and spoke some word which he took for "yes." + +Then he pointed to himself and said, "George." + +She understood, but the word was a difficult one for her to duplicate +in the metallic tongue of her people. She made several attempts, until +he laughingly spoke her word for "yes." + +Then he pointed to other objects about the room. She gave him the +names of these, but he could easily see that she felt that, if he did +not know the names for all these common things, there must be +something the matter with him. + +He wondered how he could make her understand that there were other +languages in the world than her own; and then he remembered the sharks +with their hands and what he had taken to be their sign language. +Perhaps Milli at least knew of the existence of the sign language. +This would afford a parallel; for if she realized that there were two +languages in the world, might there not be three? + +So Abbot made some meaningless signs with his fingers. Milli quite +evidently was accustomed to this kind of talk, but she was further +perplexed to find that George talked gibberish with his hands as well +as with his mouth. + +She made some signs with her hands, and then said something orally. +Young Abbot instantly pointed to her mouth, and held up one finger; +then to her hands, and held up two; then to his own mouth, and held up +three, at the same time speaking a sentence of English. Instantly she +caught on: there were three languages in the world. And thereafter she +no longer regarded him as crazy. + +For several hours she taught him. Then another meal was brought, after +which she left him, and the lights went out. + + * * * * * + +He awakened feeling thoroughly rested and well. The lights were on and +Milli was beside him. + +He asked for his clothes. They were brought. Milli withdrew and he put +them on. + +After breakfast, which they ate together, one of the bearded men came +and led him out through a number of winding corridors into a larger +room, in which there was a closed spherical glass tank, about ten feet +in diameter, containing one of the human sharks. Around the tank stood +five of the bearded men. + +One of them proceeded to address Abbot, but of course the young +American could not make out what he was saying. This apparent lack of +intelligence seemed to exasperate the man; and finally he turned +toward the tank, and engaged in a sign language conference with the +fish; then turned back to Abbot again and spoke to him very sternly. + +But Abbot shook his head and replied, "Milli. Bring Milli." + +One of the other men flashed a look of triumph at their leader, and +laughed. + +"Yes," he added, "bring Milli." + +The leader scowled at him, and some words were interchanged, but it +ended in Milli being sent for. She apparently explained the situation +to the satisfaction of the fish, to the intense glee of the man who +had sent for her, and to the rather complete discomfiture of the +leader of the five. + +Abbot later learned that the leader's name was Thig, and that the name +of the gleeful man was Dolf. + +The reception over, Milli led Abbot back to his room. + + * * * * * + +There ensued many days--very pleasant days--of language instruction +from Milli. Dolf and Thig and others of the five came frequently, to +note his progress and to talk with him and ask him questions. + +A sitting room was provided for him, adjoining his sleeping quarters. +Milli occupied quarters nearby. + +Within a week he had mastered enough of the language of these people, +for their strange history began to be intelligible to him. + +In spite of the fact that the air here was at merely atmospheric +pressure, nevertheless this place was one mile beneath the surface of +the Pacific. Milli and her people lived in a city hollowed out of a +reef of rocks, reinforced against the terrific weight of the water and +filled with laboratory-made air. They had never been to the surface of +the sea. + +The fish with the human arms were their creators and their masters. + +Professor Osborne had been right. The fish of the deep, having a head +start on the rest of the world, had evolved to a perfectly +unbelievable degree of intelligence. Centuries ago they had built for +themselves the exact analog of George Abbot's bathysphere, and in it +they had made much the same sort of exploring trips to the surface +that he had made down into the deeps. But their spheres had been +constructed to keep in, rather than to keep out, great pressure. + +Their scientists had gathered a wealth of data as to conditions on the +surface, and had even seen and studied human beings. But their +insatiable scientific curiosity had led them to want to know more +about the strange country above them and the strange persons who +inhabited it. And so they set about breeding, in their own +laboratories, creatures which should be as like as possible to those +whom they had observed on the surface. + + * * * * * + +Of course, this experiment necessitated their first setting up an +air-filled partial vacuum similar to that which surrounds the earth. +But they had persisted. They had brought down samples of air from the +surface of the sea, and had analyzed and duplicated it on a large +scale. + +Finally, through long years, they had so directed--and controlled the +course of evolution, in their breederies, as first to be able to +produce creatures which could live in air at low pressures, and then +to evolve the descendants of those creatures into intelligent human +beings. + +Some of the lower types of this evolutionary process, both in the +direct line of descent of man, and among the collateral offshoots, had +been retained for food and other purposes. Abbot, with intense +scientific interest, studied these specimens in the zoo of the +underwater city where he was staying. + +Plans had been in progress for some time, among the fish-folk and +their human subjects, to send an expedition to the surface. And now +the shark masters had fortunately been able to secure alive an actual +specimen of the surface folk--namely, George Abbot. The expedition was +accordingly postponed until they could pump out of the young scientist +all the information possible. + +Abbot was naturally overjoyed at the prospect. This would not only get +him out of here--but think what it would mean to science! + +The plans of the sharks were entirely peaceful. Furthermore there were +only about two hundred of their laboratory-bred synthetic human +beings, and so these could constitute no menace to mankind. +Accordingly he enthusiastically assured them that they could depend +upon the hearty cooperation of the scientists of the outer earth. + + * * * * * + +During all his stay so far in this cave city, Abbot had been permitted +to come in contact only with Milli, the members of the Committee of +Five, and an occasional guard or laboratory assistant. Yet, in spite +of the absence of personal contacts with other members of this strange +race, Abbot was constantly aware of a background of many people and +tense activity, which kept the wheels of industry and domestic economy +turning in this undersea city. + +Although the young man readily accustomed himself to the speech and +food and customs of this strange race, his personal modesty and +neatness revolted at the loin-cloths and beards of the men; and so, by +special dispensation, he was permitted to wear his sailor suit and to +shave. + +The Committee of Five, who constituted a sort of ruling body for the +city, interviewed him at length, cross-examined him most skilfully and +took copious notes. But there seemed to be a strange lack of common +meeting ground between their minds and his, so that very often they +were forced to call on Milli to act as an intermediary. The beautiful +young girl seemed able to understand both George Abbot and the leaders +of her own people with equal facility. + +A number of specially constructed submarines had already been built to +carry the expedition to the surface. Before it came time to use them, +Abbot tried to paint as glowing a picture as possible of life on +earth; but he found it necessary to gloss over a great many things. +How could he explain and justify war, liquor, crime, poverty, graft, +and the other evils to which constant acquaintance has rendered the +human race so calloused? + + * * * * * + +He was unable to deceive the men of the deep. With their +super-intelligence, they relentlessly unearthed from him all the +salient facts. And, as a result of their discoveries, their initial +friendly feeling for the world of men rapidly developed into supreme +contempt. + +But Abbot on the other hand developed a deep respect for them. Their +chemistry and their electrical and mechanical devices amazed and +astounded him. They even were able to keep sun-time and tell the +seasons, by means of gyroscopes! + +Age was measured much as it is on the surface. This fact was brought +to Abbot's attention by the approach of Milli's twentieth birthday. + +Strange to relate, she seemed to dread the approach of that +anniversary, and finally told Abbot the reason. + +"It is the custom," said she, "when a girl or a boy reaches twenty, to +give a very rigorous intelligence test. In fact, such a test is given +on every birthday, but the one on the twentieth is the hardest. So +far, I have just barely passed each test, which fact marks me as of +very low mentality indeed. And, if I fail _this_ time, they will kill +me, so as to make room for others who have a better right to live." + +"Impossible!" exclaimed the young man indignantly. "Why, you have a +better mind than those of many of the leading scientists of the outer +world!" + +"All the same," she gloomily replied, "it is way below standard for +down here." + + * * * * * + +On the day of the test, he did his best to cheer her up. Dolf also +came--she seemed to be an especial protege of his--and gave her his +encouragement. He had been coaching her heavily for the examinations +for some time previous. + +But later in the day she returned in tears to report to Abbot that she +had failed, and had only twenty-four hours to live. Before he realized +what he was doing, Abbot had seized her in his arms, and was pouring +out to her a love which up to that moment he had not realized +existed. + +Finally her sobbing ceased, and she smiled through her tears. + +"George, dear," said she, "it is worth dying, to know that you care +for me like this." + +"I won't let them kill you!" asserted the young man belligerently. +"They owe me something for the assistance which I am to give them on +their expedition. I shall demand your life as the price of my +cooperation. Besides, you are the only one of all your people who has +brains enough to understand what I tell them about the outer earth. It +is they who are weak-minded; not you!" + +But she sadly shook her head. + +"It would never do for you to sponsor me," said she, "for it would +alienate my one friend in power, Dolf. He loves me; no, don't scowl, +for I do not love him. But, for the safety of both of us, we must not +let him know of our love--yet." + +"'Yet'?" exclaimed Abbot, "when you have less than a day to live?" + +"You have given me hope," the girl replied, "and also an idea. Dolf +promised to appeal to the other members of the Five. I have just +thought of a good ground for his appeal; namely, my ability to +translate your clumsy description into a form suited to the high +intelligence of our superiors." + +"'Clumsy'?" exclaimed the young man, a bit nettled. + +"Oh, pardon me, dear. I'm so sorry," said she contritely. "I didn't +mean to let it slip. And now I must rush to Dolf and tell him my +idea." + +"Don't let him make love to you, though!" admonished Abbot gloomily. + +She kissed him lightly, and fled. + + * * * * * + +A half hour later she was back, all smiles. The idea had gone across +big. Dolf, as the leader of the projected expedition, had demanded +that Milli be brought along as liaison officer between them and their +guide; and the other four committeemen had reluctantly acceded. The +execution was accordingly indefinitely postponed. + +The young couple spent the evening making happy plans for their life +together on the outer earth, for as soon as they should arrive in +America, Dolf would have no further hold over them. + +The next day, the Committee of Five announced that, for a change, they +were going to give George Abbot an intelligence test. He had +represented himself as being one of the scientists of the outer earth; +accordingly, they could gauge the caliber of his fellow countrymen by +determining his I. Q. + +Milli was quite agitated when this program was announced, but the +ordeal held no terrors for George Abbot. Had he not taken many such +tests on earth and passed them easily? + +So he appeared before the Committee of Five with a rather cocky air. +He had yet to see an intelligence test too tricky for him to eat +alive. + +"Start him with something easy," suggested Dolf. "Perhaps they don't +have tests on the outer earth. You know, one gains a certain facility +by practice." + +"Milli didn't, in spite of all the practicing which you gave her," +maliciously remarked Thig. + +Dolf glowered at him. + + * * * * * + +"What is the cube root of 378?" suddenly asked one of the other +members of the committee. + +"Oh, a little over seven," hazarded Abbot. + +"Come, come," boomed Thig: "give it to us exactly." + +"Well, seven-point-two, I guess." + +"Don't guess. Give it exact, to four decimal places." + +"In my head?" asked Abbot incredulously. + +"Certainly!" replied Thig. "Even a child could do that. We're giving +you easy questions to start with." + +"Start him on _square_ root," suggested Dolf kindly. "Remember he +isn't used to these tests like our people are." + +So they tried him with square root, in which he turned out to be +equally dumb. + +Abstract questions of physics and chemistry he did better on; but the +actual quantitative problems, which they expected him to solve in his +head, stumped him completely. + +Then they asked him about education on earth, and the qualifications +for becoming a scientist, and who were the leaders in his field, and +what degrees they held, and what one had to do to get those degrees, +etc. Finally they dismissed him. Dolf then sent for Milli. + +She was gone about an hour, and returned to Abbot wide-eyed and +incredulous. + +"Oh, George," said she, lowering her voice. "Dolf tells me that your +intelligence is below that of a five-year-old child! Perhaps that is +why you and I get along so well together: we are both morons." + + * * * * * + +He started to protest, but she silenced him with a gesture and hurried +on. "I am not supposed to tell you this, but I want you to know that +your examination to-day has resulted in a complete change in their +plans for the expedition to the surface. They have consulted with the +leaders of our masters, and they agree with them." + +She was plainly agitated. + +"What is it, dear?" asked Abbot, with ominous foreboding. + +Milli continued: "Early during your test, when you demonstrated that +you couldn't do the very simplest mathematical problems in your head, +they began to doubt your boastings that you are a scientist. But you +were so ingenuous in your answers about conditions on the surface, +that finally their faith in your honesty returned. If you are a +scientist among men, as they now believe, then the average run of your +people must be mere animals. This explains what has puzzled them +before; namely, how the people of the earth tolerate poverty and +unemployment and crime, and disease and war." + +"Well?" + +"And so a mere handful of our people, by purely peaceful means, could +easily make themselves the rulers of the earth. Probably this would be +all for the best; but somehow, my feelings tell me that it is not. I +know only too well what it is to be an inferior among intelligent +beings; so will not your people be happier, left alone to their +stupidity, just as I would be?" + + * * * * * + +George Abbot was crushed. This frank acceptance by Milli of the +alleged fact that he was a mere moron, was most humiliating. And +swiftly he realized what a real menace to the earth, was this +contemplated invasion from the deeps. + +All that was worst in the world above would taint these intellectual +giants of the undersea. They would rise to supremacy, and then would +become rapacious tyrants over those whom they would regard as being no +more than animals. + +He had witnessed jealousies among them down below. Might not these +jealousies flame into huge wars when translated to the world above? +Giants striving for mastery, using the human cattle as cannon fodder! +He painted to the girl a word-picture of the horrible vision which he +foresaw. + +The invasion must be stopped at all costs! He and Milli must pit their +puny wits against these supermen! + +But what could they do? As they were pondering this problem, a girl +entered their sitting room--the same who had brought Abbot's +breakfast on his first day in the caves. Milli introduced George to +the newcomer, whose name was Romehl. + +Romehl appeared so woebegone that the young American ventured to +inquire if she too had been having difficulty with one of her tests. +But that was not the trouble; hers was rather of the heart. + +About the same age as Milli, Romehl had recently passed her twentieth +birthday test and hence was eligible to marry; so she and a young man +named Hakin had requested the fish-masters to give them the requisite +permission. But their overlords for some reason had peremptorily +denied the request. Romehl and Hakin were desolate. + + * * * * * + +Young Abbot's sympathies were at once aroused. + +"Can't something be done?" he started to ask. + +But Milli silenced him with a warning glance. "Of course not!" she +said. "Who are we to question the judgment of our all-knowing +masters?" + +Romehl had really come to Milli just to pour her troubles into a +friendly ear, rather than because she hoped to get any helpful ideas. +So she had a good cry, and finally left, somewhat comforted. + +George and Milli then took up again the problem of saving the outer +earth from the threatened invasion. Milli suggested that they go +peaceably with the expedition, and then warn the authorities of +America at the first opportunity after their arrival; but Abbot +pointed out that this would merely result in their both being shut up +in some insane asylum, as no one would believe such a crazy story as +theirs. + +The time for lights to be put out arrived without their thinking of +any better idea. + +Next day Milli spent considerable time with Dolf, and on her return +excitedly informed Abbot that he had evolved a most diabolical plot. +There were sufficient quantities of explosives in storage to blast a +hole through the wall of the caves, letting in the sea and killing +everyone in the city. Dolf planned to set this off with a time fuse, +upon the departure of the expedition. Thus Thig and the people who +were left behind--about two-thirds of the total population of the +city--would be destroyed, and the fish would have no one to send after +Dolf and his followers to dictate to them on the upper earth. + +Relieved of the thraldom of the fish, Dolf could make himself Emperor +of the World, and rule over the human cattle, with Milli at his side +as Empress. An alluring program--from Dolf's point of view. + + * * * * * + +"I didn't expect such treason even from Dolf!" exclaimed the young +American. "We must tell Thig!" + +"What good would that do?" remonstrated the girl. "If you failed to +convince Thig, Dolf would make an end of us both. And if you convinced +Thig, it would mean the end of Dolf, whose influence is all that keeps +me alive. We must think of something else." + +"Right, as always," replied Abbot. + +A growl came from the doorway. It was Dolf, his bearded face black +with wrath. + +"So?" he sputtered. "Treachery, eh?" + +He whistled twice and two guards appeared. + +"Take them to the prison!" he raged, indicating Abbot and Milli. "Our +expedition will have to do without a guide. I have learned enough of +the American language to make a good start, and I guess I can pick up +another guide when we reach the surface." Then, bending close to the +frightened girl, he whispered, "And another Empress." + +The guards hustled them away and locked them up. As an added +precaution, a sentinel was posted in front of each cell door. + +Abbot immediately got busy. + +"Can you get word for me at once to Thig?" he whispered to the man on +guard. + +"Perhaps," replied that individual non-committally. + +"Then tell him," said Abbot, "that I have proof that Dolf is planning +to destroy this city behind him, and never return from the surface." + +The sentry became immediately agitated. + +"So you know this?" he exclaimed. "How did it leak out? But--through +Milli, of course. And the guard on her cell is not a member of the +expedition! Curses! I must get word to Dolf, and have that guard +changed at once." + +And he darted swiftly away. + + * * * * * + +The young prisoner was plunged into gloom. Now he'd gone and done it! +Why hadn't he first made appropriate inquiries of his guard? + +A new guard appeared in front of the door. + +"Are you going on the expedition?" asked Abbot. + +"Yes, worse luck," replied the guard. + +The prisoner forgot his own gloom, in his surprise at the gloominess +of the other. + +"Don't you want to go?" he exclaimed incredulously. + +"No." + +"Why not?" + +"Do you know Romehl?" asked the guard. + +"Yes," Abbot replied. + +"Well, that's why." + +"Then you must be Hakin!" exclaimed Abbot, with sudden understanding. + +"Yes," replied the other dully. + +"You are going on the expedition, and Romehl is not?" + +"Quite correct." + +"Say, look here!" exclaimed Abbot, and then he launched into the +description of a plan, which just that moment had occurred to him, for +him, Milli, Romehl and Hakin to make their getaway ahead of the +expedition--in fact, that very night--and to set off the time-fuse +before leaving. + +It turned out that Hakin knew where the explosives were planted, and +where the submarines were kept, and even how to operate them. He +eagerly accepted the plan; and when next relieved as sentinel, he +hurried away to inform Romehl. + +Three hours later he was back on post. Quickly he explained to his +prisoner all about the workings of the submarines of the expedition. +The lights-out bell rang, and all the city became dark, except for dim +lights in the passageways. Hakin at once unlocked the door of Abbot's +cell, and together the two young men sneaked down the corridor to the +cell where Milli was confined. + +Silently Hakin and Abbot sprang upon the guard and throttled him; then +released Milli. There was no time for more than a few hurried words of +explanation before the three of them left the prison and made for the +locks of the subterranean canal, picking up Romehl at a preappointed +spot on the way. + + * * * * * + +The canal locks were unguarded, as well as the storerooms of the +submarines. Each of the rooms held two subs, and could open onto the +second lock and be separately flooded. + +The submarines were of steel as thick as Abbot's bathysphere. Their +shape was that of an elongated rain drop, with fins. In the pointed +tip of their tails were motors which could operate at any pressure. At +the front end were quartz windows. In the top fin was an expanding +device which could be filled with buoyant gas, produced by chemicals, +when the craft neared the surface. Each submarine also contained a +radio set, so tuned as to be capable of opening and closing the +radio-controlled gates of the locks. Each would carry comfortably two +or three persons. + +Having picked out two submarines and found them to be in order, Hakin +sneaked back into the corridor to set off the time-fuse, leaving his +three companions in the dark in the storeroom. Abbot put a protecting +arm around Milli, while Romehl snuggled close to her other side. + +Their hearts were all racing madly with excitement, and this was +intensified when they heard Hakin talking with someone just outside +their door. + +Then Hakin returned unexpectedly. + +"Something terrible has happened!" he breathed. "The explosives have +been discovered and are gone. One of the expedition men has just +informed me. Someone must have gotten word to Thig--" + +"Why, _I_ did," interrupted Milli. "I told my guard, just before they +came and changed him." + +Abbot groaned. + +Hakin continued hurriedly: "So Dolf plans to leave at once. He is +already rounding up his followers. Come on! We must get out ahead of +him!" + +An uproar could be heard drawing near in the corridor outside. Abbot +opened the door and peered out; then shut it again and whispered, "The +two factions are fighting already." + +"Then come on!" exclaimed Hakin. + + * * * * * + +As he spoke he turned on the lights, wedged the door tight against its +gaskets and threw the switch which started the water seeping into the +storeroom; then he led Romehl hurriedly to one of the two submarines, +while George and Milli rushed to the other. Heavy blows sounded +against the storeroom door. + +The water rapidly rose about them, and the four friends crawled +inside the two machines and clamped the lids tight. Then they waited +for sufficient depth, so that they could get under way. + +The water rose above their bow windows, but suddenly and inexplicably +it began to subside again. A man waded by around the bow of Abbot's +machine. + +"They've crashed in the door, and are pumping out the water again!" +exclaimed Abbot. "We're trapped!" + +"Not yet!" grimly replied the girl at his side. "Can you work the +radio door controls?" + +"Yes." + +"Then quick! Open the doors into the lock!" + +He pressed a button. Ahead of them two gates swung inward, followed by +a deluge of water. + +"Come on!" spoke the girl. "Full speed ahead, before the water gets +too low." + +Abbot did so. Out into the lock they sped, in the face of the surging +current. Then Abbot pushed another button to close the gates behind +them. But the water continued to fall, and they grounded before they +reached the end of the lock. Quite evidently the rush of the current +had kept the doors from closing behind them. The city was being +flooded through the broken door of the storeroom. + +But Abbot opened the next gate, and again they breasted the incoming +torrent. This time, although the level continued to fall, their craft +did not quite ground. + +"They must have got the gates shut behind us at last," said he, as he +opened the next set and pressed on. + + * * * * * + +And then he had an idea. Why not omit to close any further gates +behind him? As a result, the sea pressure would eventually break down +the inmost barriers, and destroy the city as effectively as Dolf's +bomb would have done. But he said nothing to Milli of this plan: she +might wish to save her people. + +Gate after gate they passed. This was too simple. A few more locks and +they would be out in open water. The submarine of Hakin and Romehl +swept by--evidently to let George and Milli know their presence--and +then dropped behind again. But was it their two friends after all? It +might have been some enemy! They could not be sure. + +This uncertainty cast a chill of apprehension over them, which was +immediately heightened by the sudden extinguishing of the overhead +lights of the tunnel. Abbot pressed the radio button for the next set +of locks, but they did not budge. + +"What can be the matter?" he asked frantically. + +"My people must have turned off the electric current," Milli replied. +"The gates won't open without electricity to feed the motors. We're +trapped again." + +For a moment they lay stunned by a realization that their escape was +blocked. + +"Kiss me good-by, dear," breathed Milli. "This is the end." + +As the young man reached over to take her in his arms, the submarine +was suddenly lifted up and spun backward, end over end: then tumbled +and bumped along, as though it were a chip on an angry mountain +torrent. + +Stunned and bruised and bleeding, the young American finally lost +consciousness.... + + * * * * * + +When he came to his senses again, his first words were, "Milli, where +are you?" + +"My darling!" breathed a voice at his side. "Are you all right?" + +"Yes," he replied. "Where are we? What has happened?" + +"The entire system of locks must have crashed in and flooded the +city," said she. + +Instantly Abbott's mind grasped the explanation of this occurrence: +their leaving open so many gates behind them had made it impossible +for the few remaining gates ahead to withstand the terrific pressures +of the ocean depths, and they had crumpled. But he did not tell Milli +his part in this. + +She continued, "I was pretty badly shaken up myself, but I've got this +boat going again, and we're on our way out of the tunnel. See--I've +found out how to work our searchlight." + +He looked. A broad beam of light from their bow, illuminated the +tunnel ahead of them. + +Presently another beam appeared, shooting by them from behind. + +"Hakin and Romehl!" exclaimed the girl. "Then they're safe, too!" + +The tunnel walls grew rough, then disappeared. They were out in the +open sea at last, although still one mile beneath the surface. + +But in front of them was an angry seething school of the man-sharks, +clearly illumined by the two rays of light. Behind the sharks were a +score or more of serpentine steeds. + +The sharks saw the two submarines and charged down upon them; but +Milli, with great presence of mind, shut off her searchlight and swung +sharply to the left. + +"Up! Up!" urged the young man, so she turned the craft upward. + + * * * * * + +On and on they went, with no interference. Presently they turned the +light on again, so as to see what progress they were making. But they +were making absolutely none! They were merely standing on their tail. +They had reached a height of such relatively low pressure that it took +all the churning of their propeller just merely to counteract the +great weight of their submarine. + +Abbot switched on their chemical gas supply, and as their top fin +expanded into a balloon they again began to rise. + +One thing, however, perplexed the young man: the water about him +seemed jet black rather than blue. They must by now be close to the +surface of the sea, where at least a twilight blue should be visible. +Even at the one mile depth in his bathysphere, the water had been +brilliant, yet here, almost at the surface, he could see absolutely +nothing. + +He switched on the searchlight again to make sure that their window +wasn't clouded over; but it wasn't. + +Then suddenly a rippling veil of pale silver appeared ahead; then a +blue-black sky and twinkling stars. They had reached the surface, and +it was night. + +He pointed out the stars to the girl at his side, then swung the nose +of the submarine around and showed her the moon. + +Where next? George Abbot picked out his position by the stars and +headed east. East across the Pacific, toward America. + + * * * * * + +But soon he noticed that their little craft was dropping beneath the +surface. He kept heading up more and more; he threw the lever for more +and more chemical gas; yet still they continued to sink. + +"Milli!" he exclaimed, "we've got to get out of here!" + +She clutched him in fear, for to her the pressure of the open sea +meant death, certain death. But he pushed her firmly away, and +unclamped the lid of the submarine. In another instant he had hauled +her out and was battling his way to the surface, while their little +boat sunk slowly beneath them. + +Milli was an experienced swimmer, for the undersea folk enjoyed the +privilege of a large indoor pool. As soon as she found that the open +sea did not kill her, she became calm. + +Side by side they floated in the moonlight. The sky began to pink in +the east. Dawn came, the first dawn that Milli had ever seen. + +Suddenly she called George's attention to two bobbing heads some +distance away in the path of light the rising sun made on the ocean. + +"Hakin and Romehl!" he exclaimed. Long since they had given them up +for dead; but evidently fate had treated them in much the same way as +themselves. + +And a moment later his own salt-stung eyes noticed a long gray shape +to one side. + +As the day brightened, Abbot suddenly noticed a large bulking shape +nearby. + +It was his own boat!--the one which had lowered him into the depths in +his bathysphere so many weeks and weeks ago! Evidently it was still +sticking around, grappling for his long dead body. + +"Come on, dear," said he, and side by side they swam over to it. + +He helped her up the ship's ladder. The ship's cook sleepily stuck his +head out of the galley door. + +"Hullo, Mike," sang out George Abbot merrily to the astonished man. +"I've brought company for breakfast. And there'll be two more when we +can lower a boat." + +[Illustration: Advertisement] + + + + +Brood of the Dark Moon + +(_A Sequel to "Dark Moon"_) + +BEGINNING A FOUR-PART NOVEL + +_By Charles Willard Diffin_ + +[Illustration: _He landed one blow on the nearest face._] + + +[Sidenote: Once more Chet, Walt and Diane are united in a wild ride to +the Dark Moon--but this time they go as prisoners of their deadly +enemy Schwartzmann.] + + +CHAPTER I + +_The Message_ + +In a hospital in Vienna, in a room where sunlight flooded through +ultra-violet permeable crystal, the warm rays struck upon smooth walls +the color of which changed from hot reds to cool yellow or gray or to +soothing green, as the Directing Surgeon might order. An elusive +blending of tones, now seemed pulsing with life; surely even a +flickering flame of vitality would be blown into warm livingness in +such a place. + +Even the chart case in the wall glittered with the same clean, +brilliant hues from its glass and metal door. The usual revolving +paper disks showed white beyond the glass. They were moving; and the +ink lines grew to tell a story of temperature and respiration and of +every heart-beat. + +On the identification-plate a name appeared and a date: "Chet +Bullard--23 years. Admitted: August 10, 1973." And below that the +ever-changing present ticked into the past in silent minutes: "August +15, 1973; World Standard Time: 10:38--10:39--10:40--" + +For five days the minutes had trickled into a rivulet of time that +flowed past a bandaged figure in the bed below--a silent figure and +unmoving, as one for whom time has ceased. But the surgeons of the +Allied Hospital at Vienna are clever. + +10:41--10:42--The bandaged figure stirred uneasily on a snow-white +bed.... + + * * * * * + +A nurse was beside him in an instant. Was her patient about to recover +consciousness? She examined the bandages that covered a ragged wound +in his side, where all seemed satisfactory. To all appearances the man +who had moved was unconscious still; the nurse could not know of the +thought impressions, blurred at first, then gradually clearing, that +were flashing through his mind. + +Flashing; yet, to the man who struggled to comprehend them, they +passed laggingly in review: one picture followed another with +exasperating slowness.... + +Where was he? What had happened? He was hardly conscious of his own +identity.... + +There was a ship ... he held the controls ... they were flying low.... +One hand reached fumblingly beneath the soft coverlet to search for a +triple star that should be upon his jacket. A triple star: the +insignia of a Master Pilot of the World!--and with the movement there +came clearly a realization of himself. + +Chet Bullard, Master Pilot; he was Chet Bullard ... and a wall of +water was sweeping under him from the ocean to wipe out the great +Harkness Terminal buildings.... It was Harkness--Walt Harkness--from +whom he had snatched the controls.... To fly to the Dark Moon, of +course-- + +What nonsense was that?... No, it was true: the Dark Moon had raised +the devil with things on Earth.... How slowly the thoughts came! Why +couldn't he remember?... + +Dark Moon!--and they were flying through space.... They had conquered +space; they were landing on the Dark Moon that was brilliantly alight. +Walt Harkness had set the ship down beautifully-- + + * * * * * + +Then, crowding upon one another in breath-taking haste, came clear +recollection of past adventures: + +They were upon the Dark Moon--and there was the girl, Diane. They must +save Diane. Harkness had gone for the ship. A savage, half-human shape +was raising a hairy arm to drive a spear toward Diane, and he, Chet, +was leaping before her. He felt again the lancet-pain of that +blade.... + +And now he was dying--yes, he remembered it now--dying in the night on +a great, sweeping surface of frozen lava.... It was only a moment +before that he had opened his eyes to see Harkness' strained face and +the agonized look of Diane as the two leaned above him.... But now he +felt stronger. He must see them again.... + +He opened his eyes for another look at his companions--and, instead of +black, star-pricked night on a distant globe, there was dazzling +sunlight. No desolate lava-flow, this; no thousand fires that flared +and smoked from their fumeroles in the dark. And, instead of Harkness +and the girl, Diane, leaning over him there was a nurse who laid one +cool hand upon his blond head and who spoke soothingly to him of +keeping quiet. He was to take it easy--he would understand later--and +everything was all right.... And with this assurance Chet Bullard +drifted again into sleep.... + + * * * * * + +The blurring memories had lost their distortions a week later, as he +sat before a broad window in his room and looked out over the +housetops of Vienna. Again he was himself, Chet Bullard, with a Master +Pilot's rating: and he let his eyes follow understandingly the moving +picture of the world outside. It was good to be part of a world whose +every movement he understood. + +Those cylinders with stubby wings that crossed and recrossed the sky; +their sterns showed a jet of thin vapor where a continuous explosion +of detonite threw them through the air. He knew them all: the pleasure +craft, the big, red-bellied freighters, the sleek liners, whose +multiple helicopters spun dazzlingly above as they sank down through +the shaft of pale-green light that marked a descending area. + +That one would be the China Mail. Her under-ports were open before the +hold-down clamps had gripped her; the mail would pour out in an +avalanche of pouches where smaller mailships waited to distribute the +cargo across the land. + +And the big fellow taking off, her hull banded with blue, was one of +Schwartzmann's liners. He wondered what had become of Schwartzmann, +the man who had tried to rob Harkness of his ship; who had brought the +patrol ships upon them in an effort to prevent their take-off on that +wild trip. + +For that matter, what had become of Harkness? Chet Bullard was +seriously disturbed at the absence of any word beyond the one message +that had been waiting for him when he regained consciousness. He drew +that message from a pocket of his dressing gown and read it again: + + "Chet, old fellow, lie low. S has vanished. Means mischief. + Think best not to see you or reveal your whereabouts until + our position firmly established. Have concealed ship. + Remember, S will stop at nothing. Trying to discredit us, + but the gas I brought will fix all that. Get yourself well. + We are planning to go back, of course. Walt." + +Chet returned the folded message to his pocket. He arose and walked +about the room to test his returning strength: to remain idle was +becoming increasingly difficult. He wanted to see Walter Harkness, +talk with him, plan for their return to the wonder-world they had +found. + + * * * * * + +Instead he dropped again into his chair and touched a knob on the +newscaster beside him. A voice, hushed to the requirements of these +hospital precincts spoke softly of market quotations in the far +corners of the earth. He turned the dial irritably and set it on +"World News--General." The name of Harkness came from the instrument +to focus Chet's attention. + +"Harkness makes broad claims," the voice was saying. "Vienna +physicists ridicule his pretensions. + +"Walter Harkness, formerly of New York, proprietor of Harkness +Terminals, whose great buildings near New York were destroyed in the +Dark Moon wave, claims to have reached and returned from the Dark +Moon. + +"Nearly two months have passed since the new satellite crashed into +the gravitational field of Earth, its coming manifested by earth +shocks and a great tidal wave. The globe, as we know, was invisible. +Although still unseen, and only a black circle that blocks out distant +stars, it is visible in the telescopes of the astronomers; its +distance and its orbital motion have been determined. + +"And now this New Yorker claims to have penetrated space: to have +landed on the Dark Moon: and to have returned to Earth. Broad claims, +indeed, especially so in view of the fact that Harkness refuses to +submit his ship for examination by the Stratosphere Control Board. He +has filed notice of ownership, thus introducing some novel legal +technicalities, but, since space-travel is still a dream of the +future, there will be none to dispute his claims. + +"Of immediate interest is Harkness' claim to have discovered a gas +that is fatal to the serpents of space. The monsters that appeared +when the Dark Moon came and that attacked ships above the Repelling +Area are still there. All flying is confined to the lower levels; fast +world-routes are disorganized. + +"Whether or not this gas, of which Harkness has a sample, came from +the Dark Moon or from some laboratory on Earth is of no particular +importance. Will it destroy the space-serpents? If it does this, our +hats are off to Mr. Walter Harkness; almost will we be inclined to +believe the rest of his story--or to laugh with him over one of the +greatest hoaxes ever attempted." + +Chet had been too intent upon the newscast to heed an opening door at +his back.... + + * * * * * + +"How about it, Chet?" a voice was asking. "Would you call it a hoax or +the real thing?" And a girl's voice chimed in with exclamations of +delight at sight of the patient, so evidently recovering. + +"Diane!" Chet exulted, "--and Walt!--you old son-of-a-gun!" He found +himself clinging to a girl's soft hand with one of his, while with the +other he reached for that of her companion. But Walt Harkness' arm +went about his shoulders instead. + +"I'd like to hammer you plenty," Harkness was saying, "and I don't +even dare give you a friendly slam on the back. How's the side where +they got you with the spear?--and how are you? How soon will you be +ready to start back? What about--" + +Diane Delacouer raised her one free hand to stop the flood of +questions. "My dear," she protested, "give Chet a chance. He must be +dying for information." + +"I was dying for another reason the last time I saw you," Chet +reminded her, "--up on the Dark Moon. But it seems that you got me +back here in time for repairs. And now what?" His nurse came into the +room with extra chairs; Chet waited till she was gone before he +repeated: "Now what? When do we go back?" + +Harkness did not answer at once. Instead he crossed to the newscaster +in its compact, metal case. The voice was still speaking softly; at a +touch of a switch it ceased, and in the silence came the soft rush of +sound that meant the telautotype had taken up its work. Beneath a +glass a paper moved, and words came upon it from a hurricane of +type-bars underneath. The instrument was printing the news story as +rapidly as any voice could speak it. + +Harkness read the words for an instant, then let the paper pass on to +wind itself upon a spool. It had still been telling of the gigantic +hoax that this eccentric American had attempted and Harkness repeated +the words. + +"A hoax!" he exclaimed, and his eyes, for a moment, flashed angrily +beneath the dark hair that one hand had disarranged. "I would like to +take that facetious bird out about a thousand miles and let him play +around with the serpents we met. But, why get excited? This is all +Schwartzmann's doing. The tentacles of that man's influence, reach out +like those of an octopus." + + * * * * * + +Chet ranged himself alongside. Tall and slim and blond, he contrasted +strongly with this other man, particularly in his own quiet +self-control as against Harkness' quick-flaring anger. + +"Take it easy, Walt," he advised. "We'll show them. But I judge that +you have been razzed a bit. It's a pretty big story for them to +swallow without proof. Why didn't you show them the ship? Or why +didn't you let Diane and me back up your yarn? And you haven't +answered my other questions: when do we go back?" + +Harkness took the queries in turn. + +"I didn't show the old boat," he explained, "because I'm not ready +for that yet. I want it kept dark--dark as the Dark Moon. I want to do +my preliminary work there before Schwartzmann and his experts see our +ship. He would duplicate it in a hurry and be on our trail. + +"And now for our plans. Well, out there in space the Dark Moon is +waiting. Have you realized, Chet, that we own that world--you and +Diane and I? Small--only half the size of our old moon--but what a +place! And it's ours! + +"Back in history--you remember?--an ambitious lad named Alexander +sighed for more worlds to conquer. Well, we're going Alexander one +better--we've found the world. We're the first ever to go out into +space and return again. + +"We'll go back there, the three of us. We will take no others +along--not yet. We will explore and make our plans for development; +and we will keep it to ourselves until we are ready to hold it against +any opposition. + +"And now, how soon can you go? Your injury--how soon will you be well +enough?" + +"Right now," Chet told him laconically; "to-day, if you say the word. +They've got me welded together so I'll hold, I reckon. But where's the +ship? What have you done--" He broke off abruptly to listen-- + + * * * * * + +To all three came a muffled, booming roar. The windows beside them +shivered with the thud of the distant explosion; they had not ceased +their trembling before Harkness had switched on the news broadcast. +And it was a minute only until the news-gathering system was on the +air. + +"Explosion at the Institute of Physical Science!" it said. "This is +Vienna broadcasting. An explosion has just occurred. We are giving a +preliminary announcement only. The laboratories of the Scientific +Institute of this city are destroyed. A number of lives have been +lost. The cause has not been determined. It is reported that the +laboratories were beginning analytical work, on the so-called Harkness +Dark Moon gas-- + +"Confirmation has just been radioed to this station. Dark Moon gas +exploded on contact with air. The American, Harkness, is either a +criminal or a madman; he will be apprehended at once. This +confirmation comes from Herr Schwartzmann of Vienna who left the +Institute only a few minutes before the explosion occurred--" + +And, in the quiet of a hospital room, Walter Harkness, drew a long +breath and whispered: "Schwartzmann! His hand is everywhere.... And +that sample was all I had.... I must leave at once--go back to +America." + +He was halfway to the door--he was almost carrying Diane Delacouer +with him--when Chet's quiet tones brought him up short. + +"I've never seen you afraid," said Chet; and his eyes were regarding +the other man curiously; "but you seem to have the wind up, as the old +flyers used to say, when it comes to Schwartzmann." + + * * * * * + +Harkness looked at the girl he held so tightly, then grinned boyishly +at Chet. "I've someone else to be afraid for now," he said. + +His smile faded and was replaced by a look of deep concern. "I haven't +told you about Schwartzmann," he said; "haven't had time. But he's +poison, Chet. And he's after our ship." + +"Where is the ship; where have you hidden it? Tell me--where?" + +Harkness looked about him before he whispered sharply: "Our old +shop--up north!" + +He seemed to feel that some explanation was due Chet. "In this day it +seems absurd to say such things," he added; "but this Schwartzmann is +a throw-back--a conscienceless scoundrel. He would put all three of us +out of the way in a minute if he could get the ship. _He_ knows we +have been to the Dark Moon--no question about that--and he wants the +wealth he can imagine is there. + +"We'll all plan to leave; I'll radio you later. We'll go back to the +Dark Moon--" He broke off abruptly as the door opened to admit the +nurse. "You'll hear from me later," he repeated; and hurried Diane +Delacouer from the room. + +But he returned in a moment to stand again at the door--the nurse was +still in the room. "In case you feel like going for a hop," he told +Chet casually, "Diane's leaving her ship here for you. You'll find it +up above--private landing stage on the roof." + +Chet answered promptly, "Fine; that will go good one of these days." +All this for the benefit of listening ears. Yet even Chet would have +been astonished to know that he would be using that ship within an +hour.... + + * * * * * + +He was standing at the window, and his mind was filled, not with +thoughts of any complications that had developed for his friend +Harkness, but only of the adventures that lay ahead of them both. The +Dark Moon!--they had reached it indeed; but they had barely scratched +the surface of that world of mystery and adventure. He was wild with +eagerness to return--to see again that new world, blazing brightly +beneath the sun; to see the valley of fires--and he had a score to +settle with the tribe of ape-men, unless Harkness had finished them +off while he, himself, lay unconscious.... Yes, there seemed little +doubt of that; Walt would have paid the score for all of them.... He +seemed actually back in that world to which his thoughts went winging +across the depths of space. The burr of a telephone recalled him. + +It was the hospital office, he found, when he answered. There was a +message--would Mr. Bullard kindly receive it on the telautotype--lever +number four, and dial fifteen-point-two--thanks.... And Chet depressed +a key and adjusted the instrument that had been printing the newscast. + +The paper moved on beneath the glass, and the type-bars clicked more +slowly now. From some distant station that might be anywhere on or +above the earth, there was coming a message. + +The frequency of that sending current was changed at some central +office; it was stepped down to suit the instrument beside him. And the +type was spelling out words that made the watching man breathless and +intent--until he tore off the paper and leaped for the call signal +that would summon the nurse. Through her he would get his own clothes, +his uniform, the triple star that showed his rating and his authority +in every air-level of the world. + +That badge would have got him immediate attention on any landing +field. Now, on the flat roof, with steady, gray eyes and a voice whose +very quietness accentuated its imperative commands, Chet had the staff +of the hospital hangars as alert as if their alarm had sounded a +general ambulance call. + + * * * * * + +Straight into the sky a red beacon made a rigid column of light; a +radio sender was crackling a warning and a demand for "clear air." +From the forty level, a patrol ship that had caught the signal came +corkscrewing down the red shaft to stand by for emergency work.... +Chet called her commander from the cabin of Diane's ship. A word of +thanks--Chet's number--and a dismissal of the craft. Then the white +lights signaled "all clear" and the hold-down levers let go with a +soft hiss-- + +The feel of the controls was good to his hands; the ship roared into +life. A beautiful little cruiser, this ship of Diane's; her twin +helicopters lifted her gracefully into the air. The column of red +light had changed to blue, the mark of an ascending area; Chet touched +a switch. A muffled roar came from the stern and the blast drove him +straight out for a mile; then he swung and returned. He was nosing up +as he touched the blue--straight up--and he held the vertical climb +till the altimeter before him registered sixty thousand. + +Traffic is north-bound only on the sixty-level, and Chet set his ship +on a course for the frozen wastes of the Arctic; then he gave her the +gun and nodded in tight-lipped satisfaction at the mounting thunder +that answered from the stern. + +Only then did he read again the message on a torn fragment of +telautotype paper. "Harkness," was the signature; and above, a brief +warning and a call--"Danger--must leave at once. You get ship and +stand by. I will meet you there." And, for the first time, Chet found +time to wonder at this danger that had set the hard-headed, +hard-hitting Walt Harkness into a flutter of nerves. + + * * * * * + +What danger could there be in this well-guarded world? A patrol-ship +passed below him as he asked himself the question. It was symbolic of +a world at peace; a world too busy with its own tremendous development +to find time for wars or makers of war. What trouble could this man +Schwartzmann threaten that a word to the Peace Enforcement Commission +would not quell? Where could he go to elude the inescapable patrols? + +And suddenly Chet saw the answer to that question--saw plainly where +Schwartzmann could go. Those vast reaches of black space! If +Schwartzmann had their ship he could go where they had gone--go out to +the Dark Moon.... And Harkness had warned Chet to get their ship and +stand by. + +Had Walt learned of some plan of Schwartzmann's? Chet could not answer +the question, but he moved the control rheostat over to the last +notch. + +From the body of the craft came an unending roar of a generator where +nothing moved; where only the terrific, explosive impact of bursting +detonite drove out from the stern to throw them forward. "A good +little ship," Chet had said of this cruiser of Diane's; and he nodded +approval now of a ground-speed detector whose quivering needle had +left the 500 mark. It touched 600, crept on, and trembled at 700 miles +an hour with the top speed of the ship. + +There was a position-finder in the little control room, and Chet's +gaze returned to it often to see the pinpoint of light that crept +slowly across the surface of a globe. It marked their ever-changing +location, and it moved unerringly toward a predetermined goal. + + * * * * * + +It was a place of ice and snow and bleak outcropping of half-covered +rocks where he descended. Lost from the world, a place where even the +high levels seldom echoed to the roar of passing ships, it had been a +perfect location for their "shop." Here he and Walt had assembled +their mystery ship. + +He had to search intently over the icy waste to find the exact +location; a dim red glow from a hidden sun shone like pale fire +across distant black hills. But the hills gave him a bearing, and he +landed at last beside a vaguely outlined structure, half hidden in +drifting snow. + +The dual fans dropped him softly upon the snow ground and Chet, as he +walked toward the great locked doors, was trembling from other causes +than the cold. Would the ship be there? He was suddenly a-quiver with +excitement at the thought of what this ship meant--the adventure, the +exploration that lay ahead. + +The doors swung back. In the warm and lighted room was a cylinder of +silvery white. Its bow ended in a gaping port where a mighty exhaust +could roar forth to check the ship's forward speed; there were other +ports ranged about the gleaming body. Above the hull a control-room +projected flatly; its lookouts shone in the brilliance of the nitron +illuminator that flooded the room with light.... + +Chet Bullard was breathless as he moved on and into the room. His wild +experiences that had seemed but a weird dream were real again. The +Dark Moon was real! And they would be going back to it! + + * * * * * + +The muffled beating of great helicopters was sounding in his ears; +outside, a ship was landing. This would be Harkness coming to join +him; yet, even as the thought flashed through his mind, it was +countered by a quick denial. To the experienced hearing of the Master +Pilot this sound of many fans meant no little craft. It was a big ship +that was landing, and it was coming down fast. The blue-striped +monster looming large in the glow of the midnight sun was not entirely +a surprise to Chet's staring eyes. + +But--blue-striped! The markings of the Schwartzmann line!--He had +hardly sensed the danger when it was upon him. + +A man, heavy and broad of frame, was giving orders. Only once had Chet +seen this Herr Schwartzmann, but there was no mistaking him now. And +he was sending a squad of rushing figures toward the man who struggled +to close a great door. + +Chet crouched to meet the attack. He was outnumbered; he could never +win out. But the knowledge of his own helplessness was nothing beside +that other conviction that flooded him with sickening certainty-- + +A hoax!--that was what they had called Walt's story; Schwartzmann had +so named it, and now Schwartzmann had been the one to fool them; the +message was a fake--a bait to draw him out; and he, Chet, had taken +the bait. He had led Schwartzmann here; had delivered their ship into +his hands-- + +He landed one blow on the nearest face; he had one glimpse of a +clubbed weapon swinging above him--and the world went dark. + + +CHAPTER II + +_Into Space_ + +A pulsing pain that stabbed through his head was Chet's first +conscious impression. Then, as objects came slowly into focus before +his eyes, he knew that above him a ray of light was striking +slantingly through the thick glass of a control-room lookout. + +Other lookouts were black, the dead black of empty space. Through +them, sparkling points of fire showed here and there--suns, sending +their light across millions of years to strike at last on a speeding +ship. But, from the one port that caught the brighter light, came that +straight ray to illumine the room. + +"Space," thought Chet vaguely. "That is the sunlight of space!" + +He was trying to arrange his thoughts in some sensible sequence. His +head!--what had happened to his head?... And then he remembered. Again +he saw a clubbed weapon descending, while the face of Schwartzmann +stared at him through bulbous eyes.... + +And this control-room where he lay--he knew in an instant where he +was. It was his own ship that was roaring and trembling beneath +him--his and Walt Harkness'--it was flying through space! And, with +the sudden realization of what this meant, he struggled to arise. Only +then did he see the figure at the controls. + +The man was leaning above an instrument board; he straightened to +stare from a rear port while he spoke to someone Chet could not see. + +"There's more of 'em coming!" he said in a choked voice. "_Mein Gott!_ +Neffer can we get away!" + + * * * * * + +He fumbled with shaking hands at instruments and controls; and now +Chet saw his chalk-white face and read plainly the terror that was +written there. But the cords that cut into his own wrists and ankles +reminded him that he was bound; he settled back upon the floor. Why +struggle? If this other pilot was having trouble let him get out of it +by himself--let him kill his own snakes! + +That the man was having trouble there was no doubt. He looked once +more behind him as if at something that pursued; then swung the +ball-control to throw the ship off her course. + +The craft answered sluggishly, and Chet Bullard grinned where he lay +helpless upon the floor; for he knew that his ship should have been +thrown crashingly aside with such a motion as that. The answer was +plain: the flask of super-detonite was exhausted; here was the last +feeble explosion of the final atoms of the terrible explosive that was +being admitted to the generator. And to cut in another flask meant the +opening of a hidden valve. + +Chet forgot the pain of his swelling hands to shake with suppressed +mirth. This was going to be good! He forgot it until, through a +lookout, he saw a writhing, circling fire that wrapped itself about +the ship and jarred them to a halt. + +The serpents!--those horrors from space that had come with the coming +of the Dark Moon! They had disrupted the high-level traffic of the +world; had seized great liners; torn their way in; stripped these of +every living thing, and let the empty shells crash back to earth. Chet +had forgotten or he had failed to realize the height at which this new +pilot was flying. Only speed could save them; the monsters, with their +snouts that were great suction-cups, could wrench off a metal +door--tear out the glass from a port! + + * * * * * + +He saw the luminous mass crush itself against a forward lookout and +felt the jar of its body against their ship. Soft and vaporous, these +cloud-like serpents seemed as they drifted through space; yet the +impact, when they struck, proved that this new matter had mass. + +Chet saw the figure at the controls stagger back and cower in fear; +the man's bullet-shaped head was covered by his upraised arms: there +was some horror outside those windows that his eyes had no wish to +see. Beside him the towering figure of Schwartzmann appeared; he had +sprung into Chet's view, and he screamed orders at the fear-stricken +pilot. + +"Fool! Swine!" Schwartzmann was shouting. "Do something! You said you +could fly this ship!" In desperation he leaped forward and reached for +the controls himself. + +Chet's blurred faculties snapped sharply to attention. That yellow +glow against the port--the jarring of their ship--it meant instant +destruction once that searching snout found some place where it could +secure a hold. If the air-pressure within the ship were released; if +even a crack were opened!-- + +"Here, you!" he shouted to the frantic Schwartzmann who was jerking +frenziedly at the controls that no longer gave response. "Cut these +ropes!--leave those instruments alone, you fool!" He was suddenly +vibrant with hate as he realized what this man had done: he had struck +him, Chet, down as he would have felled an animal for butchery; he had +stolen their ship; and now he was losing it. Chet hardly thought of +his own desperate plight in his rage at this threat to their ship, and +at Schwartzmann's inability to help himself. + +"Cut these ropes!" he repeated. "Damn it all, turn me loose; I can fly +us out!" He added his frank opinion of Schwartzmann and all his men. +And Schwartzmann, though his dark face flushed angrily red for one +instant, leaped to Chet's side and slashed at the cords with a knife. + +The room swam before Chet's dizzy eyes as he came to his feet. He half +fell, half drew himself full length toward the valve that he alone +knew. Then again he was on his feet and he gripped at the ball-control +with one hand while he opened a master throttle that cut in this new +supply of explosive. + + * * * * * + +The room had been silent with the silence of empty space, save only +for the scraping of a horrid body across the ship's outer shell. The +silence was shattered now as if by the thunder of many guns. There +was no time for easing themselves into gradual flight. Chet thrust +forward on the ball-control, and the blast from their stern threw the +ship as if it had been fired from a giant cannon. + +The self-compensating floor swung back and up; Chet's weight was +almost unbearable as the ship beneath him leaped out and on, and the +terrific blast that screamed and thundered urged this speeding shell +to greater and still greater speed. And then, with the facility that +that speed gave, Chet's careful hands moved a tiny metal ball within +its magnetic cage, and the great ship bellowed from many ports as it +followed the motion of that ball. + +Could an eye have seen the wild, twisting flight, it must have seemed +as if pilot and ship had gone suddenly mad. The craft corkscrewed and +whirled; it leaped upward and aside; and, as the glowing mass was +thrown clear of the lookout, Chet's hand moved again to that maximum +forward position, and again the titanic blast from astern drove them +on and out. + +There were other shapes ahead, glowing lines of fire, luminous masses +like streamers of cloud that looped themselves into contorted forms +and writhed vividly until they straightened into sharp lines of speed +that bore down upon the fleeing craft and the human food that was +escaping these hungry snouts. + +Chet saw them dead ahead; he saw the out-thrust heads, each ending in +a great suction-cup, the row of disks that were eyes blazing above, +and the gaping maw below. He altered their course not a hair's breadth +as he bore down upon them, while the monsters swelled prodigiously +before his eyes. And the thunderous roar from astern came with never a +break, while the ship itself ceased its trembling protest against the +sudden blast and drove smoothly on and into the waiting beasts. + +There was a hardly perceptible thudding jar. They were free! And the +forward lookouts showed only the brilliant fires of distant suns and +one more glorious than the rest that meant a planet. + + * * * * * + +Chet turned at last to face Schwartzmann and his pilot where they had +clung helplessly to a metal stanchion. Four or five others crept in +from the cabin aft; their blanched faces told of the fear that bad +gripped them--fear of the serpents; fear, too, of the terrific plunges +into which the ship had been thrown. Chet Bullard drew the metal +control-ball back into neutral and permitted himself the luxury of a +laugh. + +"You're a fine bunch of highway-men," he told Schwartzmann; "you'll +steal a ship you can't fly; then come up here above the R. A. level +and get mixed up with those brutes. What's the idea? Did you think you +would just hop over to the Dark Moon? Some little plan like that in +your mind?" + +Again the dark, heavy face of Schwartzmann flushed deeply; but it was +his own men upon whom he turned. + +"You," he told the pilot--"you were so clever; you would knock this +man senseless! You would insist that you could fly the ship!" + +The pilot's eyes still bulged with the fear he had just experienced. +"But, Herr Schwartzmann, it was you who told me--" + +A barrage of unintelligible words cut his protest short. Schwartzmann +poured forth imprecations in an unknown tongue, then turned to the +others. + +"Back!" he ordered. "Bah!--such men! The danger it iss over--yess! +This pilot, he will take us back safely." + +He turned his attention now to the waiting Chet. "Herr Bullard, iss it +not--yess?" + +He launched into extended apologies--he had wanted a look at this so +marvelous ship--he had spied upon it; he admitted it. But this +murderous attack was none of his doing; his men had got out of hand; +and then he had thought it best to take Chet, unconscious as he was, +and return with him where he could have care. + + * * * * * + +And Chet Bullard kept his eyes steadily upon the protesting man and +said nothing, but he was thinking of a number of things. There was +Walt's warning, "this Schwartzmann means mischief," and the faked +message that had brought him from the hospital to get the ship from +its hiding place; no, it was too much to believe. But Chet's eyes were +unchanging, and he nodded shortly in agreement as the other concluded. + +"You will take us back?" Schwartzmann was asking. "I will repay you +well for what inconvenience we have caused. The ship, you will return +it safely to the place where it was?" + +And Chet, after making and discarding a score of plans, knew there was +nothing else he could do. He swung the little metal ball into a +sharply-banked turn. The straight ray of light from an impossibly +brilliant sun struck now on a forward lookout; it shone across the +shoulder of a great globe to make a white, shining crescent as of a +giant moon. It was Earth; and Chet brought the bow-sights to bear on +that far-off target, while again the thunderous blast was built up to +drive them back along the trackless path on which they had come. But +he wondered, as he pressed forward on the control, what the real plan +of this man, Schwartzmann, might be.... + + * * * * * + +Less than half an hour brought them to the Repelling Area, and Chet +felt the upward surge as he approached it. Here, above this magnetic +field where gravitation's pull was nullified, had been the air-lanes +for fast liners. Empty lanes they were now; for the R. A., as the +flying fraternity knew it--the Heaviside Layer of an earlier +day--marked the danger line above which the mysterious serpents lay in +wait. Only the speed of Chet's ship saved them; more than one of the +luminous monsters was in sight as he plunged through the invisible R. +A. and threw on their bow-blast strongly to check their fall. + +Then, as he set a course that would take them to that section of the +Arctic waste where the ship had been, he pondered once more upon the +subject of this Schwartzmann of the shifty eyes and the glib tongue +and of his men who had "got out of hand" and had captured this ship. + +"Why in thunder are we back here?" Chet asked himself in perplexity. +"This big boy means to keep the ship; and, whatever his plans may have +been before, he will never stop short of the Dark Moon now that he has +seen the old boat perform. Then why didn't he keep on when he was +started? Had the serpents frightened him back?" + +He was still mentally proposing questions to which there seemed no +answer when he felt the pressure of a metal tube against his back. The +voice of Schwartzmann was in his ears. + +"This is a detonite pistol"--that voice was no longer unctuous and +self-deprecating--"one move and I'll plant a charge inside you that +will smash you to a jelly!" + + * * * * * + +There were hands that gripped Chet before he could turn; his arms were +wrenched backward; he was helpless in the grip of Schwartzmann's men. +The former pilot sprang forward. + +"Take control, Max!" Schwartzmann snapped; but he followed it with a +question while the pilot was reaching for the ball. "You can fly it +for sure, Max?" + +The man called Max answered confidently. + +"_Ja wohl!_" he said with eager assurance. "Up top there would have +been no trouble yet for that _verdammt, verloren_ valve. That one +experimental trip is enough--I fly it!" + +Those who held Chet were binding his wrists. He was thrown to the +floor while his feet were tied, and, as a last precaution, a gag was +forced into his mouth. Schwartzmann left this work to his men. He paid +no attention to Chet; he was busy at the radio. + +He placed the sending-levers in strange positions that would effect a +blending of wave lengths which only one receiving instrument could +pick up. He spoke cryptic words into the microphone, then dropped into +a language that was unfamiliar to Chet. Yet, even then, it was plain +that he was giving instructions, and he repeated familiar words. + +"Harkness," Chet heard him say, and, "--Delacouer--_ja!_--Mam'selle +Delacouer!" + +Then, leaving the radio, he said, "Put my ship inside the hangar;" and +the pilot, Max, grounded their own ship to allow the men to leap out +and float into the big building the big aircraft in which Schwartzmann +had come. + +"Now close the doors!" their leader ordered. "Leave everything as it +was!" And to the pilot he gave added instructions: "There iss no air +traffic here. You will to forty thousand ascend, und you will wait +over this spot." Contemptuously he kicked aside the legs of the bound +man that he might walk back into the cabin. + + * * * * * + +The take-off was not as smooth as it would have been had Chet's slim +hands been on the controls; this burly one who handled them now was +not accustomed to such sensitivity. But Chet felt the ship lift and +lurch, then settle down to a swift, spiralling ascent. Now he lay +still as he tried to ponder the situation. + +"Now what dirty work are they up to?" he asked himself. He had seen a +sullen fury on the dark face of Herr Schwartzmann as he spoke the +names of Walt and Diane into the radio. Chet remembered the look now, +and he struggled vainly with the cords about his wrists. Even a +detonite pistol with its tiny grain of explosive in the end of each +bullet would not check him--not when Walt and Diane were endangered. +And the expression on that heavy, scowling face had told him all too +clearly that some real danger threatened. + +But the cords held fast on his swollen wrists. His head was still +throbbing; and even his side, not entirely healed, was adding to the +torment that beat upon him--beat and beat with his pulsing +blood--until the beating faded out into unconsciousness.... + +Dimly he knew they were soaring still higher as their radio picked up +the warning of an approaching patrol ship; vaguely he realized that +they descended again to a level of observation. Chet knew in some +corner of his brain that Schwartzmann was watching from an under +lookout with a powerful glass, and he heard his excited command: + +"Down--go slowly, down!... They are landing.... They have entered the +hangar. Now, down with it, Max! Down! down!" + + * * * * * + +The plunging fall of the ship roused Chet from his stupor. He felt the +jolt of the clumsy landing despite the snow-cushioned ground; he +heard plainly the exclamations from beyond an open port--the startled +oath in Walter Harkness' voice, and the stinging scorn in the words of +Diane Delacouer. + +Herr Schwartzmann had been in the employ of Mademoiselle Delacouer, +but he was taking orders no longer. There was a sound of scuffling +feet, and once the thud of a blow.... Then Chet watched with heavy, +hopeless eyes as the familiar faces of Diane and Walt appeared in the +doorway. Their hands were bound; they, too, were threatened with a +slim-barreled pistol in the hands of the smirking, exultant +Schwartzmann. + +A tall, thin-faced man whom Chet had not seen before followed them +into the room. The newcomer was motioned forward now, as Schwartzmann +called an order to the pilot: + +"All right; now we go, Max! Herr Doktor Kreiss will give you the +bearings; he knows his way among the stars." + +Herr Schwartzmann doubled over in laughing appreciation of his own +success before he straightened up and regarded his captives with cold +eyes. + +"Such a pleasure!" he mocked: "such charming passengers to take with +me on my first trip into space; this ship, it iss not so goot. I will +build better ships later on; I will let you see them when I shall come +to visit you." + +He laughed again at sight of the wondering looks in the eyes of the +three; stooping, he jerked the gag from Chet's mouth. + +"You do not understand," he exclaimed. "I should haff explained. You +see, _meine guten Freunde_, we go--ach!--you have guessed it already! +We go to the Dark Moon. I am pleased to take you with me on the trip +out; but coming back, I will have so much to bring--there will be no +room for passengers. + +"I could have killed you here," he said; and his mockery gave place +for a moment to a savage tone, "but the patrol ships, they are +everywhere. But I have influence here und there--I arranged that your +flask of gas should be charged with explosive, I discredited you, and +yet I could not so great a risk take as to kill you all." + +"So came inspiration! I called your foolish young friend here from the +hospital. I ordered him to go at once to the ship hidden where I could +not find, and I signed the name of Herr Harkness." + + * * * * * + +Chet caught the silent glances of his friends who could yet smile +hopefully through the other emotions that possessed them. He ground +his teeth as the smooth voice of Herr Schwartzmann went on: + +"He led me here; the young fool! Then I sent for you--and this time I +signed his name--und you came. So simple!" + +"Und now we go in my ship to my new world. And," he added savagely, +"if one of you makes the least trouble, he will land on the Dark +Moon-yess!-but he will land hard, from ten thousand feet up!" + +The great generator was roaring. To Chet came the familiar lift of the +R. A. effect. They were beyond the R. A.; they were heading out and +away from Earth; and his friends were captives through his own +unconscious treachery, carried out into space in their own ship, with +the hands of an enemy gripping the controls.... + +Chet's groan, as he turned his face away from the others who had tried +to smile cheerfully, had nothing to do with the pain of his body. It +was his mind that was torturing him. + +But he muttered broken words as he lay there, words that had reference +to one Schwartzmann. "I'll get him, damn him! I'll get him!" he was +promising himself. + +And Herr Schwartzmann who was clever, would have proved his cleverness +still more by listening. For a Master Pilot of the World does not get +his rating on vain boasts. He must know first his flying, his ships +and his air--but he is apt to make good in other ways as well. + + +CHAPTER III + +_Out of Control_ + +Walter Harkness had built this ship with Chet's help. They had +designed it for space-travel. It was the first ship to leave the Earth +under its own power, reach another heavenly body, and come back for a +safe landing. But they had not installed any luxuries for the +passengers. + +In the room where the three were confined, there were no +self-compensating chairs such as the high-liners used. But the +acceleration of the speeding ship was constant, and the rear wall +became their floor where they sat or paced back and forth. Their bonds +had been removed, and one of Harkness' hands was gripping Diane's +where they sat side by side. Chet was briskly limbering his cramped +muscles. + +He glanced at the two who sat silent nearby, and he knew what was in +their minds--knew that each was thinking of the other, forgetting +their own danger: and it was these two who had saved his life on their +first adventure out in space. + +Walt--one man who was never spoiled by his millions; and +Diane--straight and true as they make 'em! Some way, somehow, they +must be saved--thus ran his thoughts--but it looked bad for them all. +Schwartzmann?--no use kidding themselves about that lad; he was one +bad hombre. The best they could hope for was to be marooned on the +Dark Moon--left there to live or to die amid those savage +surroundings; and the worst that might happen--! But Chet refused to +think of what alternatives might occur to the ugly, distorted mind of +the man who had them at his mercy. + +There was no echo of these thoughts when he spoke; the smile that +flashed across his lean face brought a brief response from the +despondent countenances of his companions. + +"Well," Chet observed, and ran his hand through a tangle of blond +hair, "I have heard that the Schwartzmann lines give service, and I +reckon I heard right. Here we were wanting to go back to the Dark +Moon, and,"--he paused to point toward a black portlight where +occasional lights flashed past--"I'll say we're going; going somewhere +at least. All I hope is that that Maxie boy doesn't find the Dark Moon +at about ten thousand per. He may be a great little skipper on a nice, +slow, five-hundred-maximum freighter, but not on this boat. I don't +like his landings." + + * * * * * + +Diane Delacouer raised her eyes to smile approvingly upon him. "You're +good, Chet," she said; "you are a darn good sport. They knock you down +out of control, and you nose right back up for a forty-thousand foot +zoom. And you try to carry us with you. Well, I guess it's time we got +over our gloom. Now what is going to happen?" + +"I'll tell you," said Walter Harkness, looking at his watch: "if that +fool pilot of Schwartzmann's doesn't cut his stern thrust and build up +a bow resistance, we'll overshoot our mark and go tearing on a few +hundred thousand miles in space." + +Diane was playing up to Chet's lead. + +"_Bien!_" she exclaimed. "A few million, perhaps! Then we may see some +of those Martians we've been speculating about. I hear they are +handsome, my Walter--much better looking than you. Maybe this is all +for the best after all!" + +"Say," Harkness protested, "if you two idiots don't know enough to +worry as you ought, I don't see any reason why I should do all the +heavy worrying for the whole crowd. I guess you've got the right idea +at that: take what comes when it gets here--or when we get there." + +Small wonder, thought Chet, that Herr Schwartzmann stared at them in +puzzled bewilderment when he flung open the door, and took one long +stride into the room. Stocky, heavy-muscled, he stood regarding them, +a frown of suspicion drawing his face into ugly lines. Plainly he was +disturbed by this laughing good-humor where he had expected misery and +hopelessness and tears. He moved the muzzle of a detonite pistol back +and forth. + + * * * * * + +"You haff been drinking!" he stated at last. "You are intoxicated--all +of you!" His eyes darted searching glances about the little room that +was too bare to hide any cause for inebriation. + +It was Mam'selle Diane who answered him with an emphatic shake of her +dark head; an engaging smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "_Mais +non!_ my dear Herr Schwartzmann," she assured him: "it is joy--just +happiness at again approaching our Moon--and in such good company, +too." + +"Fortunes of war, Schwartzmann," declared Harkness; "we know how to +accept them, and we don't hold it against you. We are down now, but +your turn will come." + +The man's reply was a sputtering of rage in words that neither Chet +nor Harkness could understand. The latter turned to the girl with a +question. + +"Did you get it, Diane? What did he say?" + +"I think I would not care to translate it literally," said Diane +Delacouer, twisting her soft mouth into an expression of distaste; +"but, speaking generally, he disagrees with you." + +Herr Schwartzmann was facing Harkness belligerently. "You think you +know something! What is it?" he demanded. "You are under my feet: I +kick you as I would _meinen Hund_ and you can do nothing." He aimed a +savage kick into the air to illustrate his meaning, and Harkness' face +flushed suddenly scarlet. + + * * * * * + +Whatever retort was on Harkness' tongue was left unspoken; a sharp +look from Chet, who brought his fingers swiftly to his lips in a +gesture of silence, checked the reply. The action was almost +unconscious on Chet's part; it was as unpremeditated as the sudden +thought that flashed abruptly into his mind-- + +They were helpless; they were in this brute's power beyond the +slightest doubt. Schwartzmann's words, "You know something. What is +it?" had fired a swift train of thought. + +The idea was nebulous as yet ... but if they could throw a scare into +this man--make him think there was danger ahead.... Yes, that was it: +make Schwartzmann think they knew of dangers that he could not avoid. +They had been there before: make this man afraid to kill them. The +dreadful alternative that Chet had feared to think of might be +averted.... + +All this came in an instantaneous, flashing correlation of his +conscious thoughts. + +"I'll tell you what we mean," he told Schwartzmann. He even leaned +forward to shake an impressive finger before the other's startled +face. "I'll tell you first of all that it doesn't make a damn bit of +difference who is on top--or it won't in a few hours more. We'll all +be washed out together. + +"I've landed once on the Dark Moon; I know what will happen. And do +you know how fast we are going? Do you know the Moon's speed as it +approaches? Had you thought what you will look like when that fool +pilot rams into it head on? + +"And that isn't all!" He grinned derisively into Schwartzmann's +flushed face, disregarding the half-raised pistol; it was as if some +secret thought had filled him with overpowering amusement. His broad +grin grew into a laugh. "That isn't all, big boy. What will you do if +you do land? What will you do when you open the ports and the--?" He +cut his words short, and the smile, with all other expression, was +carefully erased from his young face. + +"No, I reckon I won't spoil the surprise. We got through it all right; +maybe you will, too--maybe!" + + * * * * * + +And again it was Diane who played up to Chet's lead without a moment's +hesitation. + +"Chet," she demanded, "aren't you going to warn him? You would not +allow him and his men to be--" + +She stopped in apparent horror of the unsaid words; Chet gave her an +approving glance. + +"We'll see about that when we get there, Diane." + +He turned abruptly back to Schwartzmann. "I'll forget what a rotten +winner you have been; I'll help you out; I'll take the controls if you +like. Of course, your man, Max, may set us down without damage; then +again--" + +"Take them!" Schwartzmann ungraciously made an order of his +acceptance. "Take the controls, Herr Bullard! But if you make a +single false move!" The menacing pistol completed the threat. + +But "Herr Bullard" merely turned to his companion with a level, +understanding look. "Come on," he said; "you can both help in working +out our location." + +He stepped before the burly man that Diane might precede them through +the door. And he felt the hand of Walt Harkness on his arm in a +pressure that told what could not be said aloud. + + * * * * * + +There were pallid-faced men in the cabin through which they passed; +men who stared and stared from the window-ports into the black +immensity of space. Chet, too, stopped to look; there had been no +port-holes in that inner room where they had been confined. + +He knew what to expect; he knew how awe-inspiring would be the sight +of strange, luminous bodies--great islands of light--masses of +animaculae--that glowed suddenly, then melted again into velvet black. +A whirl of violet grew almost golden in sudden motion; Chet knew it +for an invisible monster of space. Glowingly luminous as it threw +itself upon a subtle mass of shimmering light, it faded like a +flickering flame, and went dark as its motion ceased. + +Life!--life everywhere in this ocean of space! And on every hand was +death. "Not surprising," Chet realized, "that these other Earthmen are +awed and trembling!" + +The sun was above them; its light struck squarely down through the +upper ports. This was polarized light--there was nothing outside to +reflect or refract it--and, coming as a straight beam from above, it +made a brilliant circle upon the floor from which it was diffused +throughout the room. It was as if the floor itself was the +illuminating agent. + +No eye could bear to look into the glare from above; nor was there +need, for the other ports drew the eyes with their black depths of +unplumbed space. + +Black!--so velvet as to seem almost tangible! Could one have reached +out a hand, that blackness, it seemed, must be a curtain that the hand +could draw aside, where unflickering points of light pricked through +the dark to give promise of some radiant glory beyond. + + * * * * * + +They had seen it before, these three, yet Chet caught the eyes of +Harkness and Diane and knew that his own eyes must share something of +the look he saw in theirs--something of reverent wonder and a strange +humility before this evidence of transcendent greatness. + +Their own immediate problem seemed gone. The tyranny of this glowering +human and his men--the efforts of the whole world and its struggling +millions--how absurdly unimportant it all was! How it faded to +insignificance! And yet.... + +Chet came from the reverie that held him. There was one man by whom +this beauty was unseen. Herr Schwartzmann was angrily ordering them +on, and, surprisingly, Chet laughed aloud. + +This problem, he realized, was _his_ problem--his to solve with the +help of the other two. And it was _not_ insignificant; he knew with +some sudden wordless knowledge that there was nothing in all the great +scheme but that it had its importance. This vastness that was beyond +the power of human mind to grasp ceased to be formidable--he was part +of it. He felt buoyed up; and he led the way confidently toward the +control-room door where Schwartzmann stood. + +The scientist, whom Schwartzmann had called Herr Doktor Kreiss, was +beside the pilot. He was leaning forward to search the stars in the +blackness ahead, but the pilot turned often to stare through the rear +lookouts as if drawn in fearful fascination by what was there. Chet +took the controls at Schwartzmann's order; the pilot saluted with a +trembling hand and vanished into the cabin at the rear. + +"Ready for flying orders, Doctor," the new pilot told Herr Kreiss. +"I'll put her where you say--within reason." + +Behind him he heard the choked voice of Mademoiselle Diane: +"_Regardez! Ah, mon Dieu_, the beauty of it! This loveliness--it +hurts!" + + * * * * * + +One hand was pressed to her throat; her face was turned as the pilot's +had been that she might stare and stare at a quite impossible moon--a +great half-disk of light in the velvet dark. + +"This loveliness--it hurts!" Chet looked, too, and knew what Diane was +feeling. There was a catch of emotion in his own throat--a feeling +that was almost fear. + +A giant half-moon!--and he knew it was the Earth. Golden Earth-light +came to them in a flooding glory; the blazing sun struck on it from +above to bring out half the globe in brilliant gold that melted to +softest, iridescent, rainbow tints about its edge. Below, hung +motionless in the night, was another sphere. Like a reflection of +Earth in the depths of some Stygian lake, the old moon shone, too, in +a half-circle of light. + +Small wonder that these celestial glories brought a gasp of delight +from Diane, or drew into lines of fear the face of that other pilot +who saw only his own world slipping away. But Chet Bullard, Master +Pilot of the World, swung back to scan a star-chart that the scientist +was holding, then to search out a similar grouping in the black depths +into which they were plunging, and to bring the cross-hairs of a +rigidly mounted telescope upon that distant target. + +"How far?" he asked himself in a half-spoken thought, "--how far have +we come?" + + * * * * * + +There was an instrument that ticked off the seconds in this seemingly +timeless void. He pressed a small lever beside it, and, beneath a +glass that magnified the readings, there passed the time-tape. Each +hour and minute was there; each movement of the controls was +indicated; each trifling variation in the power of the generator's +blast. Chet made some careful computations and passed the paper to +Harkness, who tilted the time-tape recorder that he might see the +record. + +"Check this, will you, Walt?" Chet was asking. "It is based on the +time of our other trip, acceleration assumed as one thousand miles per +hour per hour out of air--" + +The scientist interrupted; he spoke in English that was carefully +precise. + +"It should lie directly ahead--the Dark Moon. I have calculated with +exactness." + +Walter Harkness had snatched up a pair of binoculars. He swung sharply +from lookout to lookout while he searched the heavens. + +"It's damned lucky for us that you made a slight error," Chet was +telling the other. + +"Error?" Kreiss challenged. "Impossible!" + +"Then you and I are dead right this minute," Chet told him. "We are +crossing the orbit of the Dark Moon--crossing at twenty thousand miles +per hour relative to Earth, slightly in excess of that figure relative +to the Dark Moon. If it had been here--!" He had been watching +Harkness anxiously; he bit off his words as the binoculars were thrust +into his hand. + +"There she comes," Harkness told him quietly; "it's up to you!" + +But Chet did not need the glasses. With his unaided eyes he could see +a faint circle of violet light. It lay ahead and slightly above, and +it grew visibly larger as he watched. A ring of nothingness, whose +outline was the faintest shimmering halo; more of the distant stars +winked out swiftly behind that ghostly circle; it was the Dark +Moon!--and it was rushing upon them! + + * * * * * + +Chet swung an instrument upon it. He picked out a jet of violet light +that could be distinguished, and he followed it with the cross-hairs +while he twirled a micrometer screw; then he swiftly copied the +reading that the instrument had inscribed. The invisible disk with its +ghostly edge of violet was perceptibly larger as he slammed over the +control-ball to up-end them in air. + +Under the control-room's nitron illuminator the cheeks of Herr Doktor +Kreiss were pale and bloodless as if his heart had ceased to function. +Harkness had moved quietly back to the side of Diane Delacouer and was +holding her two hands firmly in his. + +The very air seemed charged with the quick tenseness of emotions. +Schwartzmann must have sensed it even before he saw the onrushing +death. Then he leaped to a lookout, and, an instant later, sprang at +Chet calmly fingering the control. + +"Fool!" he screamed, "you would kill us all? Turn away from it! Away +from it!" + +He threw himself in a frenzy upon the pilot. The detonite pistol was +still in his hand. "Quick!" he shouted. "Turn us!" + +Harkness moved swiftly, but the scientist, Kreiss, was nearer; it was +he who smashed the gun-hand down with a quick blow and snatched at the +weapon. + +Schwartzmann was beside himself with rage. "You, too?" he demanded. +"Giff it me--traitor!" + + * * * * * + +But the tall man stood uncompromisingly erect. "Never," he said, "have +I seen a ship large enough to hold two commanding pilots. I take your +orders in all things, Herr Schwartzmann--all but this. If we die--we +die." + +Schwartzmann sputtered: "We should haff turned away. Even yet we +might. It will--it will--" + +"Perhaps," agreed Kreiss, still in that precise, class-room voice, +"perhaps it will. But this I know: with an acceleration of one +thousand m.p.h. as this young man with the badge of a Master Pilot +says, we cannot hope, in the time remaining, to overcome our present +velocity; we can never check our speed and build up a relatively +opposite motion before that globe would overwhelm us. If he has +figured correctly, this young man--if he has found the true resultant +of our two motions of approach--and if he has swung us that we may +drive out on a line perpendicular to the resultant--" + +"I think I have," said Chet quietly. "If I haven't, in just a few +minutes it won't matter to any of us; it won't matter at all." He met +the gaze of Herr Doktor Kreiss who regarded him curiously. + +"If we escape," the scientist told him, "you will understand that I am +under Herr Schwartzmann's command; I will be compelled to shoot you if +he so orders. But, Herr Bullard, at this moment I would be very proud +to shake your hand." + +And Chet, as he extended his hand, managed a grin that was meant also +for the tense, white-faced Harkness and Diane. "I like to see 'em +dealt that way," he said, "--right off the top of the deck." + +But the smile was erased as he turned back to the lookout. He had to +lean close to see all of the disk, so swiftly was the approaching +globe bearing down. + + * * * * * + +It came now from the side; it swelled larger and larger before his +eyes. Their own ship seemed unmoving; only the unending thunder of the +generator told of the frantic efforts to escape. They seemed hung in +space; their own terrific speed seemed gone--added to and fused with +the orbital motion of the Dark Moon to bring swiftly closer that +messenger of death. The circle expanded silently; became menacingly +huge. + +Chet was whispering softly to himself: "If I'd got hold of her an hour +sooner--thirty minutes--or even ten.... We're doing over twenty +thousand an hour combined speed, and we'll never really hit it.... +We'll never reach the ground." + +He turned this over in his mind, and he nodded gravely in confirmation +of his own conclusions. It seemed somehow of tremendous importance +that he get this clearly thought out--this experience that was close +ahead. + +"Skin friction!" he added. "It will burn us up!" + +He had a sudden vision of a flaming star blazing a hot trail through +the atmosphere of this globe; there would be only savage eyes to +follow it--to see the line of fire curving swiftly across the +heavens.... He, himself, was seeing that blazing meteor so plainly.... + +His eyes found the lookout: the globe was gone. They were +close--close! Only for the enveloping gas that made of this a dark +moon, they would be seeing the surface, the outlines of continents. + +Chet strained his eyes--to see nothing! It was horrible. It had been +fearful enough to watch that expanding globe.... He was abruptly aware +that the outer rim of the lookout was red! + +For Chet Bullard, time ceased to have meaning; what were seconds--or +centuries--as he stared at that glowing rim? He could not have told. +The outer shell of their ship--it was radiant--shining red-hot in the +night. And above the roar of the generator came a nerve-ripping +shriek. A wind like a blast from hell was battering and tearing at +their ship. + +"Good-by!" He had tried to call; the demoniac shrieking from without +smothered his voice. One arm was across his eyes in an unconscious +motion. The air of the little room was stifling. He forced his arm +down: he would meet death face to face. + + * * * * * + +The lookout was ringed with fire; it was white with the terrible white +of burning steel!--it was golden!--then cherry red! It was dying, as +the fire dies from glowing metal plunged in its tempering bath--or +thrown into the cold reaches of space! + +In Chet's ears was the roar of a detonite motor. He tried to realize +that the lookouts were rimmed with black--cold, fireless black! An +incredible black! There were stars there like pinpoints of flame! But +conviction came only when he saw from a lookout in another wall a +circle of violet that shrank and dwindled as he watched.... + +A hand was gripping his shoulder; he heard the voice of Walter +Harkness speaking, while Walt's hand crept over to raise the triple +star that was pinned to his blouse. + +"Master Pilot of the World!" Harkness was saying. "That doesn't cover +enough territory, old man. It's another rating that you're entitled +to, but I'm damned if I know what it is." + +And, for once, Chet's ready smile refused to form. He stared dumbly at +his friend; his eyes passed to the white face of Mademoiselle Diane; +then back to the controls, where his hand, without conscious volition, +was reaching to move a metal ball. + +"Missed it!" he assured himself. "Hit the fringe of the air--just the +very outside. If we'd been twenty thousand feet nearer!..." He was +moving the ball; their bow was swinging. He steadied it and set the +ship on an approximate course. + +"A stern chase!" he said aloud. "All our momentum to be overcome--but +it's easy sailing now!" + +He pushed the ball forward to the limit, and the explosion-motor gave +thunderous response. + + +CHAPTER IV + +_The Return to the Dark Moon_ + +No man faces death in so shocking a form without feeling the effects. +Death had flicked them with a finger of flame and had passed them by. +Chet Bullard found his hands trembling uncontrollably as he fumbled +for a book and opened it. The tables of figures printed there were +blurred at first to his eyes, but he forced himself to forget the +threat that was past, for there was another menace to consider now. + +And uppermost in his mind, when his thoughts came back into some +approximate order, was condemnation of himself for an opportunity that +was gone. + +"I could have jumped him," he told himself with bitter self-reproach; +"I could have grabbed the pistol from Kreiss--the man was petrified." +And then Chet had to admit a fact there was no use of denying: "I was +as paralyzed as he was," he said, and only knew he had spoken aloud +when he saw the puzzled look that crossed Harkness' face. + +Harkness and Diane had drawn near. In a far corner of the little room +Schwartzmann had motioned to Kreiss to join him; they were as far away +from the others as could be managed. Schwartzmann, Chet judged, needed +some scientific explanation of these disturbing events; also he +needed to take the detonite pistol from Kreiss' hand and jam it into +his own hand. His eyes, at Chet's unconscious exclamation, had come +with instant suspicion toward the two men. + +"Forty-seven hours, Walt," the pilot said, and repeated it loudly for +Schwartzmann's benefit; "--forty-seven hours before we return to this +spot. We are driving out into space; we've crossed the orbit of the +Dark Moon, and we're doing twenty thousand miles an hour. + +"Now we must decelerate. It will take twenty hours to check us to zero +speed; then twenty-seven more to shoot us back to this same point +in space, allowing, of course, for a second deceleration. The same +figuring with only slight variation will cover a return to the Dark +Moon. As we sweep out I can allow for the moon-motion, and we'll hit +it at a safe landing speed on the return trip this time." + + * * * * * + +Chet was paying little attention to his companion as he spoke. His +eyes, instead, were covertly watching the bulky figure of +Schwartzmann. As he finished, their captor shot a volley of questions +at the scientist beside him; he was checking up on the pilot's +remarks. + +Chet was leaning forward to stare intently from a lookout, his head +was close to that of Harkness. + +"Listen, Walt," he whispered; "the Moon's out of sight; it's easy to +lose. Maybe I can't find it again, anyway--it's going to take some +nice navigating--but I'll miss it by ten thousand miles if you say so, +and even the Herr Doktor can't check me on it." + +Chet saw the eyes of Schwartzmann grow intent. He reached +ostentatiously for another book of tables, and he seated himself that +he might figure in comfort. + +"Just check me on this," he told Harkness. + +He put down meaningless figures, while the man beside him remained +silent. Over and over he wrote them--would Harkness never reach a +decision?--over and over, until-- + +"I don't agree with that," Harkness told him and reached for the +stylus in Chet's hand. And, while he appeared to make his own swift +computations, there were words instead of figures that flowed from his +pen. + +"Only alternative: return to Earth," he wrote. "Then S will hold off; +wait in upper levels. Kreiss will give him new bearings. We'll shoot +out again and do it better next time. Kreiss is nobody's fool. S means +to maroon us on Moon--kill us perhaps. He'll get us there, sure. We +might as well go now." + + * * * * * + +Chet had seen a movement across the room. "Let's start all over +again," he broke in abruptly. He covered the writing with a clean +sheet of paper where he set down more figures. He was well under way +when Schwartzmann's quick strides brought him towering above them. +Again the detonite pistol was in evidence; its small black muzzle +moved steadily from Harkness to Chet. + +"For your life--such as is left of it--you may thank Herr Doktor +Kreiss," he told Chet. "I thought at first you would have attempted to +kill us." His smile, as he regarded them, seemed to Chet to be +entirely evil. "You were near death twice, my dear Herr Bullard; and +the danger is not entirely removed. + +"'Forty-seven hours' you have said; in forty-seven hours you will land +us on the Dark Moon. If you do not,"--he raised the pistol +suggestively--"remember that the pilot, Max, can always take us back +to Earth. You are not indispensable." + +Chet looked at the dark face and its determined and ominous scowl. +"You're a cheerful sort of soul, aren't you?" he demanded. "Do you +have any faint idea of what a job this is? Do you know we will shoot +another two hundred thousand miles straight out before I can check +this ship? Then we come back; and meanwhile the Dark Moon has gone on +its way. Had you thought that there's a lot of room to get lost in out +here?" + +"Forty-seven hours!" said Schwartzmann. "I would advise that you do +not lose your way." + +Chet shot one quizzical glance at Harkness. + +"That," he said, "makes it practically unanimous." + +Schwartzmann, with an elaborate show of courtesy, escorted Diane +Delacouer to a cabin where she might rest. At a questioning look +between Diane and Harkness, their captor reassured them. + +"Mam'selle shall be entirely safe," he said. "She may join you here +whenever she wishes. As for you,"--he was speaking to Harkness--"I +will permit you to stay here. I could tie you up but this iss not +necessary." + +And Harkness must have agreed that it was indeed unnecessary, for +either Kreiss or Max, or some other of Schwartzmann's men, was at his +side continuously from that moment on. + + * * * * * + +Chet would have liked a chance for a quiet talk and an exchange of +ideas. It seemed that somewhere, somehow, he should be able to find an +answer to their problem. He stared moodily out into the blackness +ahead, where a distant star was seemingly their goal. Harkness stood +at his side or paced back and forth in the little room, until he threw +himself, at last, upon a cot. + +And always the great stern-blast roared; muffled by the insulated +walls, its unceasing thunder came at last to be unheard. To the pilot +there was neither sound nor motion. His directional sights were +unswervingly upon that distant star ahead. Seemingly they were +suspended, helpless and inert, in a black void. But for the occasional +glowing masses of strange living substance that flashed past in this +ocean of space, he must almost have believed they were motionless--a +dead ship in a dead, black night. + +But the luminous things flashed and were gone--and their coming, +strangely, was from astern; they flicked past and vanished up ahead. +And, by this, Chet knew that their tremendous momentum was unchecked. +Though he was using the great stern blast to slow the ship, it was +driving stern-first into outer space. Nor, for twenty hours, was there +a change, more than a slackening of the breathless speed with which +the lights went past. + +Twenty hours--and then Chet knew that they were in all truth hung +motionless, and he prayed that his figures that told him this were +correct.... More timeless minutes, an agony of waiting--and a +dimly-glowing mass that was ahead approached their bow, swung off and +vanished far astern. And, with its going, Chet knew that the return +trip was begun. + +He gave Harkness the celestial bearing marks and relinquished the +helm. "Full speed ahead as you are," he ordered: "then at +nineteen-forty on W.S. time, we'll cut it and ease on bow repulsion to +the limit." + +And, despite the strangeness of their surroundings, the ceaseless, +murmuring roar of the exhaust, the weird world outside, where endless +space was waiting for man's exploration--despite the deadly menace +that threatened, Chet dropped his head upon his outflung arms and +slept. + + * * * * * + +To his sleep-drugged brain it was scarcely a moment until a hand was +dragging at his shoulder. + +"Forty-seven hours!" the voice of Schwartzmann was saying. + +And: "Some navigating!" Harkness was exclaiming in flattering +amazement. "Wake up, Chet! Wake up! The Dark Moon's in sight. You've +hit it on the nose, old man: she isn't three points off the sights!" + +The bow-blast was roaring full on. Ahead of them Chet's sleepy eyes +found a circle of violet; and he rubbed his eyes savagely that he +might take his bearings on Sun and Earth. + +As it had been before, the Earth was a giant half-moon; like a +mirror-sphere it shot to them across the vast distance the reflected +glory of the sun. But the globe ahead was a ghostly world. Its black +disk was lost in the utter blackness of space. It was a circle, marked +only by the absence of star-points and by the halo of violet glow that +edged it about. + +Chet cut down the repelling blast. He let the circle enlarge, then +swung the ship end for end in mid-space that the more powerful stern +exhaust might be ready to counteract the gravitational pull of the new +world. + +Again those impalpable clouds surrounded them. Here was the enveloping +gas that made this a dark moon--the gas, if Harkness' theory was +correct, that let the sun's rays pass unaltered; that took the light +through freely to illumine this globe, but that barred its return +passage as reflected light. + +Black--dead black was the void into which they were plunging, until +the darkness gave way before a gentle glow that enfolded their ship. +The golden light enveloped them in growing splendor. Through every +lookout it was flooding the cabin with brilliant rays, until, from +below them, directly astern of the ship, where the thundering blast +checked their speed of descent, emerged a world. + + * * * * * + +And, to Chet Bullard, softly fingering the controls of the first ship +of space--to Chet Bullard, whose uncanny skill had brought the tiny +speck that was their ship safely back from the dark recesses of the +unknown--there came a thrill that transcended any joy of the first +exploration. + +Here was water in great seas of unreal hue--and those seas were his! +Vast continents, ripe for adventure and heavy with treasure--and they, +too, were his! His own world--his and Diane's and Walt's! Who was this +man, Schwartzmann, that dared dream of violating their possessions? + +A slender tube pressed firmly, uncompromisingly, into his back to give +the answer to his question. "Almost I wish you had missed it!" Herr +Schwartzmann was saying. "But now you will land; you will set us down +in some place that you know. No tricks, Herr Bullard! You are clever, +but not clever enough for that. We will land, yess, where you know it +is safe." + +From the lookout, the man stared for a moment with greedy eyes; then +brought his gaze back to the three. His men, beside Harkness and +Diane, were alert; the scientist, Kreiss, stood close to Chet. + +"A nice little world," Schwartzmann told them. "Herr Harkness, you +have filed claims on it; who am I to dispute with the great Herr +Harkness? Without question it iss yours!" + +He laughed loudly, while his eyes narrowed between creasing wrinkles +of flesh. "You shall enjoy it," he told them; "--all your life." + +And Chet, as he caught the gaze of Harkness and Diane, wondered how +long this enjoyment would last. "All your life!" But this was rather +indefinite as a measure of time. + + +CHAPTER V + +_A Desperate Act_ + +The ship that Chet Bullard and Harkness had designed had none of the +instruments for space navigation that the ensuing years were to bring. +Chet's accuracy was more the result of that flyer's sixth sense--that +same uncanny power that had served aviators so well in an earlier day. +But Chet was glad to see his instruments registering once more as he +approached a new world. + +Even the sonoflector was recording; its invisible rays were darting +downward to be reflected back again from the surface below. That +absolute altitude recording was a joy to read; it meant a definite +relationship with the world. + +"I'll hold her at fifty thousand," he told Harkness. "Watch for some +outline that you can remember from last time." + +There was an irregular area of continental size; only when they had +crossed it did Harkness point toward an outflung projection of land. +"That peninsula," he exclaimed; "we saw that before! Swing south and +inland.... Now down forty, and east of south.... This ought to be the +spot." + +Perhaps Harkness, too, had the flyer's indefinable power of +orientation. He guided Chet in the downward flight, and his pointing +finger aimed at last at a cluster of shadows where a setting sun +brought mountain ranges into strong relief. Chet held the ship steady, +hung high in the air, while the quick-spreading mantle of night swept +across the world below. And, at last, when the little world was +deep-buried in shadow, they saw the red glow of fires from a hidden +valley in the south. + +"Fire Valley!" said Chet. "Don't say anything about me being a +navigator. Wait, you've brought us home, sure enough." + +"Home!" He could not overcome this strange excitement of a home-coming +to their own world. Even the man who stood, pistol in hand, behind him +was, for the moment, forgotten. + +Valley of a thousand fires!--scene of his former adventures! Each +fumerole was adding its smoky red to the fiery glow that illumined the +place. There were ragged mountains hemming it in; Chet's gaze passed +on to the valley's end. + +Down there, where the fires ceased, there would be water; he would +land there! And the ship from Earth slipped down in a long slanting +line to cushion against its under exhausts, whose soft thunder echoed +back from a bare expanse of frozen lava. Then its roaring faded. The +silvery shape sank softly to its rocky bed, as Chet cut the motor that +had sung its song of power since the moment when Schwartzmann had +carried him off--taken him from that frozen, forgotten corner of an +incredibly distant Earth. + + * * * * * + +"Iss there air?" Schwartzmann demanded. Chet came to himself again +with a start: he saw the man peering from the lookout to right and to +left as if he would see all that there was in the last light of day. + +"Strange!" he was grumbling to himself. "A strange place! But those +hills--I saw their markings--there will be metals there. I will +explore; later I return: I will mine them. Many ships I must build to +establish a line. The first transportation line of space. Me, Jacob +Schwartzmann--I will do it. I will haff more than anyone else on +Earth; I will make them all come to me crawling on their bellies!" + +Chet saw the hard shine of the narrowed eyes. For an instant only, he +dared to consider the chance of leaping upon the big, gloating figure. +One blow and a quick snatch for the pistol!... Then he knew the folly +of such a plan: Schwartzmann's men were armed; he would be downed in +another second, his body a shattered, jellied mass. + +Schwartzmann's thoughts had come back to the matter of air; he +motioned Chet and Harkness toward the port. + +Diane Delacouer had joined them and she thrust herself quickly between +the two men. And, though Schwartzmann made a movement as if he would +snatch her back, he thought better of it and motioned for the portal +to be swung. Chet felt him close behind as he followed the others out +into the gathering dark. + + * * * * * + +The air was heavy with the fragrance of night-blooming trees. They +were close to the edge of the lava flow. The rock was black in the +light of a starry sky; it dropped away abruptly to a lower glade. A +stream made silvery sparklings in the night, while beyond it were +waving shadows of strange trees whose trunks were ghostly white. + +It was all so familiar.... Chet smiled understandingly as he saw Walt +Harkness' arm go about the trim figure of Diane Delacouer. No mannish +attire could disguise Diane's charms; nor could nerve and cold courage +that any man might envy detract from her femininity. Her dark, curling +hair was blowing back from her upraised face as the scented breezes +played about her; and the soft beauty of that face was enhanced by the +very starlight that revealed it. + +It was here that Walt and Diane had learned to love; what wonder that +the fragrant night brought only remembrance, and forgetfulness of +their present plight. But Chet Bullard, while he saw them and smiled +in sympathy, knew suddenly that other eyes were watching, too; he felt +the bulky figure of Herr Schwartzmann beside him grow tense and rigid. + +But Schwartzmann's voice, when he spoke, was controlled. "All right," +he called toward the ship; "all iss safe." + +Yet Chet wondered at that sudden tensing, and an uneasy presentiment +found entrance to his thoughts. He must keep an eye on Schwartzmann, +even more than he had supposed. + +Their captor had threatened to maroon them on the Dark Moon. Chet did +not question his intent. Schwartzmann would have nothing to gain by +killing them now. It would be better to leave them here, for he might +find them useful later on. But did he plan to leave them all or only +two? Behind the steady, expressionless eyes of the Master Pilot, +strange thoughts were passing.... + + * * * * * + +There were orders, at length, to return to the ship. "It is dark +already," Schwartzmann concluded: "nothing can be accomplished at +night." + +"How long are the days and nights?" he asked Harkness. + +"Six hours," Harkness told him; "our little world spins fast." + +"Then for six hours we sleep," was the order. And again Herr +Schwartzmann conducted Mademoiselle Delacouer to her cabin, while Chet +Bullard watched until he saw the man depart and heard the click of the +lock on the door of Diane's room. + +Then for six hours he listened to the sounds of sleeping men who were +sprawled about him on the floor; for six hours he saw the one man who +sat on guard beside a light that made any thought of attack absurd. +And he cursed himself for a fool, as he lay wakeful and vainly +planning--a poor, futile fool who was unable to cope with this man who +had bested him. + +Nineteen seventy-three!--and here were Harkness and Diane and himself, +captured by a man who was mentally and morally a misfit in a modern +world. A throw-back--that was Schwartzmann: Harkness had said it. He +belonged back in nineteen fourteen. + +Harkness was beyond the watching guard; from where he lay came sounds +of restless movement. Chet knew that he was not alone in this mood of +hopeless dejection. There was no opportunity for talk; only with the +coming of day did the two find a chance to exchange a few quick words. + +The guard roused the others at the first light of sunlight beyond the +ports. Harkness sauntered slowly to where Chet was staring from a +lookout. He, too, leaned to see the world outside, and he spoke +cautiously in a half-whisper: + +"Not a chance, Chet. No use trying to bluff this big crook any more. +He's here, and he's safe; and he knows it as well as we do. We'll let +him ditch us--you and Diane and me. Then, when we're on our own, we'll +watch our chance. He will go crazy with what he finds--may get +careless--then we'll seize the ship--" His words ended abruptly. As +Schwartzmann came behind them, he was casually calling Chet's +attention to a fumerole from which a jet of vapor had appeared. +Yellowish, it was; and the wind was blowing it. + +Chet turned away; he hardly saw Schwartzmann or heard Harkness' words. +He was thinking of what Walt had said. Yes, it was all they could do; +there was no chance of a fight with them now. But later! + +Diane Delacouer came into the control-room at the instant; her dark +eyes were still lovely with sleep, but they brightened to flash an +encouraging smile toward the two men. There were five of +Schwartzmann's men in the ship besides the pilot and the scientist, +Kreiss. They all crowded in after Diane. + +They must have had their orders in advance; Schwartzmann merely +nodded, and they sprang upon Harkness and Chet. The two were caught +off their guard; their arms were twisted behind them before resistance +could be thought of. Diane gave a cry, started forward, and was +brushed back by a sweep of Schwartzmann's arm. The man himself stood +staring at them, unmoving, wordless. Only the flesh about his eyes +gathered into creases to squeeze the eyes to malignant slits. There +was no mistaking the menace in that look. + + * * * * * + +"I think we do not need you any more," he said at last. "I think, Herr +Harkness, this is the end of our little argument--and, Herr Harkness, +you lose. Now, I will tell you how it iss that you pay. + +"You haff thought, perhaps, I would kill you. But you were wrong, as +you many times have been. You haff not appreciated my kindness; you +haff not understood that mine iss a heart of gold. + +"Even I was not sure before we came what it iss best to do. But now I +know. I saw oceans and many lands on this world. I saw islands in +those oceans. + +"You so clever are--such a great thinker iss Herr Harkness--and on one +of those islands you will haff plenty of time to think--yess! You can +think of your goot friend, Schwartzmann and of his kindness to you." + +"You are going to maroon us on an island?" asked Walt Harkness +hoarsely. Plainly his plans for seizing the ship were going awry. "You +are going to put the three of us off in some lost corner of this +world?" + +Chet Bullard was silent until he saw the figure of Harkness struggling +to throw off his two guards. "Walt," he called loudly, "take it easy! +For God's sake, Walt, keep your head!" + +This, Chet sensed, was no time for resistance. Let Schwartzmann go +ahead with his plans; let him think them complacent and unresisting; +let Max pilot the ship; then watch for an opening when they could land +a blow that would count! He heard Schwartzmann laughing now, laughing +as if he were enjoying something more pleasing than the struggles of +Walt. + + * * * * * + +Chet was standing by the controls. The metal instrument-table was +beside him; above it was the control itself, a metal ball that hung +suspended in air within a cage of curved bars. + +It was pure magic, this ball-control, where magnetic fields crossed +and recrossed; it was as if the one who held it were a genie who could +throw the ship itself where he willed. Glass almost enclosed the cage +of bars, and the whole instrument swung with the self-compensating +platform that adjusted itself to the "gravitation" of accelerated +speed. The pilot, Max, had moved across to the instrument-table, ready +for the take-off. + +Schwartzmann's laughter died to a gurgling chuckle. He wiped his eyes +before he replied to Harkness' question. + +"Leave you," he said, "in one place? _Nein!_ One here, the other +there. A thousand miles apart, it might be. And not all three of you. +That would be so unkind--" + +He interrupted himself to call to Kreiss who was opening the port. + +"No," he ordered; "keep it closed. We are not going outside; we are +going up." + +But Kreiss had the port open. "I want a man to get some fresh water," +he said; "he will only be a minute." + +He shoved at a waiting man to hurry him through the doorway. It was +only a gentle push; Chet wondered as he saw the man stagger and grasp +at his throat. He was coughing--choking horribly for an instant +outside the open port--then fell to the ground, while his legs jerked +awkwardly, spasmodically. + +Chet saw Kreiss follow. The scientist would have leaped to the side of +the stricken man, whose body was so still now on the sunlit rock; but +he, too, crumpled, then staggered back into the room. He pushed feebly +at the port and swung it shut. His face, as he turned, was drawn into +fearful lines. + +"Acid!" He choked out the words between strangled breaths. +"Acid--sulfuric--fumes!" + + * * * * * + +Chet turned quickly to the spectro-analyzer; the lines of oxygen and +nitrogen were merged with others, and that meant an atmosphere unfit +for human lungs! There had been a fumerole where yellowish vapor was +spouting; he remembered it now. + +"So!" boomed Schwartzmann, and now his squinting eyes were full on +Chet. "You--you _schwein!_ You said when we opened the ports there +would be a surprise! Und this iss it! You thought to see us kill +ourselves!" + +"Open the port!" he shouted. The men who held Chet released him and +sprang forward to obey. The pilot, Max, took their place. He put one +hand on Chet's shoulder, while his other hand brought up a +threatening, metal bar. + +Schwartzmann's heavy face had lost its stolid look; it was alive with +rage. He thrust his head forward to glare at the men, while he stood +firmly, his feet far apart, two heavy fists on his hips. He whirled +abruptly and caught Diane by one arm. He pulled her roughly to him and +encircled the girl's trim figure with one huge arm. + +"Put you _all_ on one island?" he shouted. "Did you think I would put +you _all_ out of the ship? You"--he pointed at Harkness--"and +you"--this time it was Chet--"go out now. You can die in your damned +gas that you expected would kill me! But, you fools, you +imbeciles--Mam'selle, she stays with me!" The struggling girl was +helpless in the great arm that drew her close. + +Harkness' mad rage gave place to a dead stillness. From bloodless lips +in a chalk-white face he spat out one sentence: + +"Take your filthy hands off her--now--or I'll--" + +Schwartzmann's one free hand still held the pistol. He raised it with +deadly deliberation; it came level with Harkness' unflinching eyes. + +"Yes?" said Schwartzmann. "You will do--what?" + + * * * * * + +Chet saw the deadly tableau. He knew with a conviction that gripped +his heart that here was the end. Walt would die and he would be next. +Diane would be left defenseless.... The flashing thought that followed +came to him as sharply as the crack of any pistol. It seemed to burst +inside his brain, to lift him with some dynamic power of its own and +project him into action. + +He threw himself sideways from under the pilot's hand, out from +beneath the heavy metal bar--and he whirled, as he leaped, to face the +man. One lean, brown hand clenched to a fist that started a long +swing from somewhere near his knees; it shot upward to crash beneath +the pilot's out-thrust jaw and lift him from the floor. Max had aimed +the bar in a downward sweep where Chet's head had been the moment +before; and now man and bar went down together. In the same instant +Chet threw himself upon the weapon and leaped backward to his feet. + +One frozen second, while, to Chet, the figures seemed as motionless as +if carved from stone--two men beside the half-opened port--Harkness in +convulsive writhing between two others--the figure of Diane, strained, +tense and helpless in Schwartzmann's grasp--and Schwartzmann, whose +aim had been disturbed, steadying the pistol deliberately upon +Harkness-- + +"Wait!" Chet's voice tore through the confusion. He knew he must grip +Schwartzmann's attention--hold that trigger finger that was tensed to +send a detonite bullet on its way. "Wait, damn you! I'll answer your +question. I'll tell you what we'll do!" + +In that second he had swung the metal bar high; now he brought it +crashing down in front of him. Schwartzmann flinched, half turned as +if to fire at Chet, and saw the blow was not for him. + +With a splintering crash, the bar went through an obstruction. There +was sound of glass that slivered to a million mangled bits--the sharp +tang of metal broken off--a crash and clatter--then silence, save for +one bit of glass that fell belatedly to the floor, its tiny jingling +crash ringing loud in the deathly stillness of the room.... + +It had been the control-room, this place of metal walls and of +shining, polished instruments, and it could be called that no longer. +For, battered to useless wreckage, there lay on a metal table a cage +that had once been formed of curving bars. Among the fragments a metal +ball that had guided the great ship still rocked idly from its fall, +until it, too, was still. + +It was a room where nothing moved--where no person so much as +breathed.... + +Then came the Master Pilot's voice, and it was speaking with quiet +finality. + +"And that," he said, "is your answer. Our ship has made its last +flight." + +His eyes held steadily upon the blanched face of Herr Schwartzmann, +whose limp arms released the body of Diane; the pistol hung weakly at +the man's side. And the pilot's voice went on, so quiet, so hushed--so +curiously toneless in that silent room. + +"What was it that you said?--that Harkness and I would be staying +here? Well, you were right when you said that, Schwartzmann; but it's +a hard sentence, that--imprisonment for life." + +Chet paused now, to smile deliberately, grimly at the dark face so +bleached and bloodless, before he repeated: + +"Imprisonment for life!--and you didn't know that you were sentencing +yourself. For you're staying too, Schwartzmann, you contemptible, +thieving dog! You're staying with us--here--on the Dark Moon!" + +(_To be continued._) + + + + +If The Sun Died + +_By R. F. Starzl_ + +[Illustration: Crack! Again Mich'l's fist caught him.] + + +[Sidenote: Tens of millenniums after the Death of the Sun there comes +a young man who dares to open the Frozen Gate of Subterranea.] + +By our system of time we would have called it around 65,000 A. D., but +in this cavern world, miles below the long-forgotten surface of the +earth, it was 49,889. Since the Death of the Sun. That legendary sun +was but a dim racial memory, but the 24-hour day, based on its +illusory travel across the sky, was still maintained by uranium +clocks, by which the myriads who dwelt in the galleries and maze of +the under-world warrens regulated their lives. + +In the office of the nation's central electro-plant sat a young man. +He was unoccupied at the moment. He was an example of the marvelously +slow process of evolution, for, to all outward appearances he differed +little from a Twentieth Century man. Keen intelligence sat on his +fine-cut, kindly young face. In general build he was lighter, more +refined than a man of the past. Yet even the long, delicately colored +robe of mineral silk which he wore could not detract from his obvious +virility and strength. + +His face flashed in a smile when a girl suddenly appeared in the +middle of the room, materializing, so it seemed, out of nowhere. She +resembled him to some extent, except that she was exquisitely +feminine, dark-haired, with a skin of warm ivory, while he was blond +and ruddy. Her tinkling, silvery voice was troubled as she asked: + +"Have I your leave to stay, Mich'l Ares?" + +The look of adoration he gave her was answer enough, but he answered +with the conventional formula, "It is given." He rose to his feet, +walked right through the seemingly solid vision and made an adjustment +on a bank of dials. Then he walked through the apparition again and, +standing beside his chair, looked at her inquiringly. + +"You haven't forgotten, Mich'l, this is the day of the Referendum?" + +Mich'l smiled slightly. It would be a day of confusion in Subterranea +if he should forget. As chief of the technies he was in direct charge +of the tabulating machines that would, a few seconds after the vote, +give the result in the matter of the opening of the Frozen Gate. But +the girl's concern sobered him instantly. On the decision of the +people at noon depended the life work of her father, Senator Mane. And +it was now nine o'clock. + +"I am sure they will order the Gate opened," he said instantly. "All +the technies are agreed that your father is right, that the Great +Cold was only another, more severe ice age--not the death of the Sun. +The technies--" + + * * * * * + +Just as the girl had seemingly materialized, a young man now stood +beside her. In appearance he was a picture of pride, power, arrogance, +and definite danger. His hawk-like, patrician features were smiling. +This olive-skinned, dark young rival of Mich'l was Lane Mollon, son of +Senator Mollon, ruthless administration leader and bitter opponent of +Senator Mane's Exodus faction. + +Lane looked at Mich'l insolently. + +"Have I your leave to stay, Mich'l Ares?" he asked. + +"It is given," said Mich'l without enthusiasm. + +"I'm not calling on you of my own will, Mich'l," the apparition of +young Mollon said contemptuously, "but Nida had the telucid turned on +as I stepped into the room." + +"It's as well for you that you're not here personally," Mich'l replied +promptly. "The last time we met I believe I was obliged to knock you +down." + +Lane Mollon flushed, with a sidelong glance at Nida. The girl gave +Mich'l a frightened look. + +Lane interpreted her concern rightly. + +"Ordinarily it's not safe to try anything like that with me. I could +have you executed in half an hour. But I don't have to call on the +State to punish you. Nida, you'll admit I'm taking no unfair advantage +of him?" + +"Oh, I do, Lane, but--" + +Lane reached out his hand to the dial, invisible to Mich'l, which +operated the telucid apparatus, and immediately the apparitions +vanished. Mich'l looked at his own telucid, its great unwinking eye +set in the wall. But he did not project his own illusory body to the +girl's home. He was a technie--one of the pitifully few trained men +and women who kept the intricate automatic machinery working. On them +rested the immense, stupid civilization of the caverns, and there was +work to do. Mich'l felt that on this morning of her father's greatest +trial Nida would pay scant attention to Lane. + + * * * * * + +Mich'l was testing some of the controls when Gobet Hanlon came in. +Gobet was also a technie, and Mich'l's special friend. Like Mich'l, he +wore the light robe that was universal among the civilians in the +equable climate of the caverns. He walked with the light, springy step +that was somehow characteristic of the specialized class to which he +belonged, as distinguished from the languid gait of the pampered, lazy +populace. Attached to his girdle of flat chain links was a tiny +computing machine about as large as the palm of a man's hand. For +Gobet did most of the mathematical work. + +"You'll want me at the tabulating section?" Gobet stated inquiringly. + +"It may be well," Mich'l smiled. "For the first time in centuries, I +believe, the general public is going to vote." + +"Flos Entine wants to come along." + +Mich'l's smile changed to a grin. He knew the pretty, willful little +sweetheart of Gobet's. If she wanted to be at the tabulating plant she +would be there. + +"In fact," Gobet confessed somewhat sheepishly, "she is in the car." + +The car was waiting in the gallery. It had no visible support, but +hovered a few inches above the floor above one of two parallel +aluminum alloy strips that stretched, like the trolley tracks of the +ancients, throughout all the galleries. The ancients well knew that +aluminum is repelled by magnetism, but the race had lived in the +caverns for centuries before evolving an alloy that possessed this +repulsive power to a degree strong enough to support a considerable +weight. + +Under Mich'l's guidance the car moved forward silently, through +interminable busy streets with arched roofs, lined on either side with +doors that led to homes, theaters and food distributing automats. +Occasionally they passed public gardens, purely ornamental, in which a +few specimens of vegetation were preserved. They passed multitudes of +people, most of them handsome with a pampered, hot-house prettiness, +but betraying the peculiar lassitude which had been sapping the +energies of this once dynamic race for millennia. Yet to-day they +showed almost eagerness. The name of Leo Mane, prophet of deliverance, +was on every tongue. And what was the Sun like? Like the great +vita-lights that were prescribed by law and evaded by everyone, except +possibly the technies? Those technies--they seemed to delight in work! +Curious glances fell on the gliding car. Some work in connection with +the Referendum? What must one do to vote? Oh, the telucid! + + * * * * * + +Arriving at Administration Circle, the car entered a vast excavation +half a mile in diameter, possibly a thousand feet high at the dome. +Here were the entrances to some of the principal Government warrens. +Here also centered the streets, like radiating spokes of a wheel, on +which many of the officials lived. Here the emanation bulbs were more +frequent than in the galleries, so that the light was almost glaring. +Guards of soldier-police, the stolid, well-fed, specialized class +produced by centuries of a static civilization, were everywhere. Not +in the memory of their grandparents had they done any fighting, but in +their short, brightly colored tunics, flaring trousers and little +kepis they looked very smart. Their only weapon was a small tube +capable of projecting a lethal light-ray. + +Mich'l led his party to the audience hall. It was only a few hundred +feet in diameter. At one end was the speaker's rostrum. Senator Mane +was already there. He was tall, purposeful, but withal tired and +wistful looking. His graying hair was cut at the nape of his neck, +sweeping back from his swelling temples in a manner really suggestive +of a mane. His large, luminous eyes lit up. + +"Is it nearly time?" + +"Yes, Senator," Mich'l said. "The nation will soon assemble." + +"You have met Senator Mollon?" + +"I have had the pleasure," Mich'l acknowledged with polite irony, +"since Senator Mollon gives me practically all my orders." + +Mollon acknowledged the tribute with a quick smile, without rising +from his chair. He, too, was different from the average Subterranean +in that he was forceful and aggressive, like Senator Mane. He was +still youngish looking, of powerful, blocky build. His dark hair was +carefully parted in the middle and brushed down sleekly. The Twentieth +Century had known his prototype, the successful, powerful, utterly +unscrupulous politician; and in a different sphere, that type of +extra-Governmental ruler which the ancients called "gangster." It was +casually discussed in Subterranea that certain of the state +soldier-police were responsible for the mysterious assassinations that +had so conveniently removed most of the effective resistance to +Mollon's progress in the Senate. The once potent body had not held a +session in ten years: didn't dare to, a cynical and indifferent public +said. And a strange reluctance on the part of qualified men to accept +the Presidential nomination had left that office unfilled for the past +three years. Mollon, as party dictator, performed the duties of +President provisionally. + + * * * * * + +Flos, mischievous as usual, rounded her great blue eyes and gazed at +Mollon with an expression of rapt admiration. + +"Oh, Senator," she thrilled, "I think it's wonderful of you to give +Senator Mane an opportunity to debate with you. You are so kind!" + +Mollon failed to detect any mockery, luckily for Flos. He looked at +her with half-closed eyes. + +"The public must be satisfied," he rumbled. "Senator Mane has aroused +in them great hopes. A small matter might be adjusted, but only a +Referendum will satisfy them in this." + +"But Senator, the race is going to ruin. If we could get into the Sun +again--wouldn't you want that?" + +"I don't believe there is a 'Sun'," Mollon replied; then, with the +candor of one who is perfectly sure of himself, added: + +"If Mane were right, I still couldn't permit the Frozen Gate to be +opened. I can control the people for their own good, here; it might +not be possible Outside." + +A deep musical note sounded. Suddenly the myriad inhabitants of +Subterranea seemed to be milling around in the room. Actually their +bodies were in their dwelling cells, but their telucid images filled +the hall. By a simple adjustment of the power circuit, their images, +instead of being life size, were made only about an inch high, +permitting the accommodation of the entire nation in the hall. Their +millions of tiny voices, mingling, made a sighing sound. + + * * * * * + +Mane rose and stepped forward, raising his hand. + +"Citizens of Subterranea," he began in powerful, resonant tones, and +then went on to put into his address all the fervor of a lifetime of +endeavor. He told them of those times in the dim past when the human +race still dwelt on the surface of the earth. Of the Sun that poured +out inexhaustible floods of life and light; of the green things that +were grown, not only to look at, but for food for all living things +before food was made synthetically out of mined chemicals. Of the +world overrun by a teeming, happy, dynamic civilization. + +"Then something happened. The Sun seemed to give less light, less +heat. Perhaps we ran into a cloud of cosmic dust that intercepted the +Sun's rays. Perhaps the cause was to be found in some change in the +Sun's internal structure. But the effects could not be doubted. Ice +began to come down from the poles. Ice barriers higher than the +highest towers covered the world, wiping out all life but the most +energetic. + +"Our ancestors, and many other advanced nations, began to burrow +toward the hot interior of the earth. We to-day have no idea of the +labor that went into the digging of our underground home. We are +becoming degenerate. More and more of us, even those who still use the +vita-lights, are becoming pale and flabby. There are hardly enough +technies to keep the automatic machinery in order. What will happen +when those technies also deteriorate, and lose the will to work? For +deteriorate they must, just as Senator Mollon and his still active +allies will. Just as I will, if I live long enough. There is a great +force that we never know here. It is called the cosmic ray. It never +penetrates to our depth. And our vita-lights do not produce it." + +He then spoke of the proposed Exodus, argued, pleaded, painted a rosy +picture of the outer world, of a Sun come back, a world of brightness +and life. At the conclusion of his speech a sigh arose from the +assembled millions--a sigh of hope, of half belief. Had the vote been +taken then the Frozen Gate would have been opened. + + * * * * * + +But Senator Mollon was on the rostrum, holding up a square, well +manicured hand for attention. In his deep rumbling bass he tore the +arguments for the Exodus to shreds. With the whip of fear he drove +away hope. + +"If our savage ancestors lived on the inhospitable outer shell of the +earth," he shouted, "is that a reason for our taking that retrograde +step? Read your histories. What happened to our neighboring nation of +Atlantica only a short 15,000 years ago? They did just as this man is +urging--opened their outer gate. It promptly froze open, and liquid +air, the remnant of what in primordial days was an outer atmosphere, +poured down the tunnels. The whole nation died, and we saved ourselves +only by blasting the connecting passages between them and us with +fulminite." + +A wave of fear passed over the tiny massed figures. For centuries the +race had been rapidly losing all initiative, except for those few +leaders who, through superior stamina and religious devotion to the +artificial sun-rays, had maintained something of their pristine +energy. + +Now they were hysterical with fear of the unknown. Even as Mich'l Ares +adjusted the parabolic antenna of the thought-receptor vote-counting +machine, he knew what the verdict would be. In a moment the vote was +flashed on a screen on the ceiling: 421 in favor of the Exodus and +2,733,485 against it. There was an eery cheer from the people, and +they began to dissolve like smoke. Mollon rose, bowed politely and +smilingly, and walked out to where his magnetic car awaited him. + + * * * * * + +It was with a feeling of deep depression that Mich'l Ares went to work +the next morning. His despair was shared by the technies under him +with whom he talked. At the telestereo station he found a bitter young +man broadcasting a prepared commentary on the election ordered by +Senator Mollon. It was congratulatory in nature, designed to confirm +popular opinion that the nation had been saved from a great +catastrophe and to glorify the principles of Mollon's party. + +"... And so once more this great nation has demonstrated its ability +to govern itself, to protect itself against dangerous and unsocial +experiments. The voice of the people is the voice of God. The +Government claims for itself no credit for this momentous decision. +Each citizen has done his share toward the continuation of our safety, +our prosperity...." + +The young man finished the document, smiled a charming smile, and +turned off the switch. Then he grimaced his disgust and lapsed into a +glum meditation. + +"What say, Kratz?" Mich'l asked. + +"Trouble again on the west sector. Had trouble getting power enough. +Generators ought to be overhauled." He made a helpless gesture. + +"How about conscripting a little labor?" + +"Tried it this morning. Most of the people are still in a daze from +chewing too much merclite. Those that're sober are too busy preening +themselves for voting on the winning side." + +Kratz informed Mich'l that Mollon had that morning given up all +pretense of constitutional government, had preempted the treasury, and +was consolidating his position as avowed dictator. + +"He probably wanted to do that a long time," Mich'l commented. "He +didn't quite dare till that Referendum yesterday gave him the real +measure of the public. Well, I've got to be going." + + * * * * * + +Mich'l took one of the small mechanical service tunnels back to his +office. This latest news had hardly affected him, so keen was his +disappointment over the defeat of the Exodus. But he wanted to be +alone. He walked through vast halls full of machinery, abandoned and +rusting, through dark corridors that had once roared with industrial +life. What would happen when the present overloaded machinery should +break down; wear out? The remnants of the great technical army could +hardly serve what was left. Each passing year these silent, useless +hulks became more numerous. The specter of famine was stalking amid +the dusty pipes and empty vats of the chemical plants; the horrors of +darkness lurked amid the tarnished compression spheres and the long, +hooded monstrosities of the power plants, inadequately served by +harassed and overworked technies. + +In the middle of his office Mich'l found the telucid counterpart of +Mila, sister of Nida Mane. She was younger than Nida, hardly more than +sixteen. Her eyes were wide with terror as she sought Mich'l. Her +cheeks were wet with tears, and her silken brown hair fell in careless +disarray. + +"Mich'l!" she cried, as soon as she saw him. "Lane Mollon has taken +Nida!" + +"Taken her!" + +"And Father is under arrest. Lane came this morning, crazy with +merclite gum. He had four or five soldiers with him. When Nida refused +to see him they broke down the door and went to her room. They dragged +her out to Lane's car, and he took her to his warren near the +Presidential quarters." + +"She there now?" + +"Yes. Father followed Lane's car. Guards kept him out of Lane's +warren, so he went to see Mollon. That devil only laughed at him, +offered to call another Referendum. Father had a small pocket +needle-ray and--" + +"Good! He killed Mollon?" + +"No. But he managed to burn a hole through his arm. He was rushed off +to one of the cells. And Mollon says he will call a Referendum to +decide Father's fate." + +"It would be just like that devil's sense of humor to let the people +decree their only friend's death." + + * * * * * + +"They'll do it, too!" Mila exclaimed tragically. "Oh, how I wish +Mother were alive!" + +"And each one will feel deep within him that he has done a great, +commendable and original thing!" Mich'l added, with keen insight. + +Mila sank to the floor. + +"Go to your room," Mich'l said, gently stern. "Mollon and his gang +have reckoned without the technies." A woman's image appeared, +stooping commiseratingly over Mila--a friend of the family. Mich'l +ordered her to care for Mila. Then, he took a deep breath. Gone was +his feeling of helpless sorrow, leaving only an overwhelming, +steadying, satisfying anger. He flung the telucid switch, barked +cracking orders. + +In half an hour every technical man of Subterranea was in a large +storeroom near Mich'l's office. They were mostly young, keen and +alert, their skins red or brown from the actinic lights, their hair +showing more or less bleaching from the same cause. As Mich'l talked +they became intent: they listened with a cold, deadly silence that +would perhaps have made the smug millions of Subterranea quake with +fear. + +This affront put upon the only man in the Government who could speak +their language, who could comprehend their ideals: the peril of the +girl they all knew and loved: these things set their long-repressed +resentment flaring to white heat. They were ready for desperate +things. A turn of a valve and water would thunder through the maze of +galleries; a mishap far, far down toward the earth's hot core, and +steam would rush up-- + + * * * * * + +But Mich'l steadied them. After all, Subterranea was their country. +Anarchy was far from the technie ideals. He had a plan. + +"Nothing is to be done until we have Senator Mane and Nida," Mich'l +instructed them. "Remember that! Do nothing until you hear from me. +Each of you go to your station. Set all adjustments so that they will +not need attention for some weeks, at least. Those of you who have +families, tell them to be ready to move to another residence. Say +nothing about any trouble--understand?" + +There were nods of assent. + +"You will proceed to your posts and keep busy. When I come it'll be by +telucid. I will say nothing. I will simply wave my hand. That means +you are to take your wives, your families, your sweethearts, to +Substation No. 37X." + +There were audible gasps. + +"Not 37X!" exclaimed one of the older men. "Why, that's twenty miles +up, near the Frozen Gate!" + +"Yes!" Mich'l smiled with tight lips. "You men willing?" + +There was an instantaneous shout of approval. Curiously enough, +seizure of the Gate by force had not occurred to any of this +law-abiding, well-disciplined group. But Mollon's lawless seizure of +the Government had removed all inhibitions of that sort. Seizure of +the Gate would bring at one stroke the realization of the dream that +the technies had tried for generations to win by political means. +Surely, when the Gate was open, and they could see the glorious, +half-mythical Sun for themselves, the people would consent to the +Exodus! + +For the technies, even in the bitterness of defeat, were not +anti-social. They hoped and worked for the devitalized races of +Subterranea, for the betterment of their condition, more than for +their own. The technies were the fittest; they had demonstrated their +ability to survive unchanged under adverse condition. They would be +least helped by the Exodus. Yet they had worked for it all their +lives, as had their fathers before them, out of unselfish love for +humanity. There have always been such men. Through the murk of history +we see their lives as small, steady lights, infrequent and lonely. +With the opening of the Frozen Gate suddenly a possibility, the +technies forgot their exasperation with the stupid mob. + + * * * * * + +"The Gate is guarded," said an elderly man dubiously. + +"A small guard," Gobet Hanlon remarked quickly, "and probably dazed +with merclite. Nothing to fear." + +"Stay away from the Gate," Mich'l instructed. "Give no cause for +alarm. If an emergency arises while I'm gone, see Gobet." + +"Don't go alone, Mich'l," Gobet begged. "A few of us with ray-needles +can storm the detention cells. We can clean out Lane's warren." + +"We might, but the Senator and Nida would be gone. The alarm would be +given. In a few minutes there'd be a mob." + +The technies were already dispersing eagerly. Mich'l pressed his +friend's hand, saying: + +"I'll take my needle-ray, and I know every way to get around there is. +Alone, I'll attract no attention. Till later, Gobet!" And he was gone. + +Mich'l's way was through the smaller, less frequented communication +passages used principally by the technies. Occasionally he did meet +citizens, still light-headed after their election victory celebration, +and lost, but he paid them no heed. He came to the ventilation center +of that level. + +For ages no air had entered Subterranea from the outside. All of the +air had to be regularly reconditioned, and so was returned, through a +systematic network of air ducts, to a vast, central chemical plant. It +was a latter-day Cave of the Winds, where the north, south, east and +west winds of that buried empire regularly returned for a brief few +minutes of play amid chemical sprays, condensers, humidifiers, +oxydisers, to be again dispatched to their drudgery. This hall was +truly colossal, filled to the shadowy ceilings, a thousand feet high, +with gigantic pipes, tanks, wind-turbines. + + * * * * * + +The technie in charge had not yet returned, but Mich'l consulted the +distribution plan, and soon located the duct that led to Lane Mollon's +warren. In a few minutes he was running, helped along by a strong +current of fresh air. The map had shown the warren to be about a mile +away. For the benefit of the technies who had to work there, the duct +was plainly marked; and the lighting, by infrequent emanation bulbs, +was adequate, though dim. + +Mich'l had made no plans for a course of action after arriving at his +destination. He felt reasonably sure that if he could get into the +warren he would have a good chance to escape with Nida. In the +confusion he could hide her nearby, and perhaps effect the release of +the senator also. He had no doubt about his fate if he were caught. +Lane's pose of good sportsmanship having failed to impress Nida, he +had adopted simple, brutal coercion. Mich'l's fate, if caught +interfering, would be summary execution. + +Mich'l found the grating which he sought. It bore the key number of +Lane's establishment. The key which would unlock it was of course in +the hands of the police; but the bars were badly corroded, and Mich'l +managed to bend them enough to permit the passage of his body. + +He found himself in a small chamber, from which ducts led to all parts +of the warren. These ducts were too small to permit passage of his +body, however; it would be necessary to come into the open. A small +metal door promised egress. Mich'l climbed out, and faced a surprised +cook in the kitchen, engaged in flavoring synthetic food drinks. +Mich'l said explanatorily: + +"Inspection, air service." + +The cook did not know the regulations about keeping the air tunnels +locked. Moreover, he, like all other servants of the mighty, worked +unwillingly, being conscripted. He only grunted. + + * * * * * + +Mich'l made a pretense of testing the air currents. Presently he +stepped into one of the communicating corridors. The warren was +planned something like a house of the Surface Age, with luxuriously +furnished rooms, baths, dining halls, and all the appurtenances of +wealth. Arriving at a rotunda, in the center of which was a glowing +fountain, Mich'l encountered a guard. Boldly he asked him: + +"Where is Mr. Mollon? I wish to see him." + +The guard looked surprised. + +"About Nida Mane, sir? I would hardly dare." + +Mich'l looked at the man sharply, but there was no hint of recognition +in the stupid, phlegmatic face. + +"What about Nida Mane? It is about her I wish to speak." + +There was a slight stirring of interest in the soldier's face. + +"He will be glad to see you, sir, if you bring news of her." + +"Eh, yes? Perhaps what I have to tell will be of no interest to him." + +"If you can tell him where she is he will ask no more of you." + +"She made good her escape then?" + +Slow suspicion was dawning at last. + +"For one who brings news you ask a lot of questions," the guard +remarked heavily, as his hand slipped to the needle-ray weapon at his +side. "Show your pass!" + +Like a flash Mich'l was upon him, his hand at the thick throat, the +other grasping the wrist. Although the soldier, like the majority of +the populace, lacked the intense vitality of the technies, he had +stubborn strength, and he fought effectively in the drilled, automatic +way of his kind. Mich'l was further handicapped by the necessity of +maintaining silence. One shout, and a dozen needle-rays would no doubt +perforate his body with holes and slash his flesh with smoldering +cuts. + + * * * * * + +Grunting and sweating, they fought all around the rose-colored curb of +the fountain. At last Mich'l succeeded in forcing his adversary over +the low stone, and they went over together with a resounding splash. +The straining body of the guard suddenly relaxed, and a spreading red +cloud in the water disclosed that he had struck his head against the +first of the terraces that rose in the fountain's mist-shrouded +center. + +Up one of the corridors a door opened, and an angry voice shouted: + +"Gurka! Gurka! I'll have you in bracelets! Captain of the guard!" + +"Sir!" From another of the corridors came a sound of running feet. A +command rang out: + +"On the double!" + +An officer, followed by four soldiers, dashed around the corner and +flashed by the fountain. Peering over the curb, Mich'l saw them, some +hundred yards away, come to a halt before an opened door. With a +thrill of exultation Mich'l recognized the tall figure of Lane Mollon, +looking like a slightly damaged satyr of the better class, for his +head was bandaged, and he was in bad humor. + +"Captain!" he stormed. "I want you to put that damned louse in +solitary confinement for a year. Hear?" + +"Yes, sir." Like a megaphone the long corridor carried the low, +respectful words to Mich'l's ears. + +Lane continued to storm: + +"And if you put another damned merclite-crazy blunker[1] on guard in +this place I'll have your commission. Hear?" + +"Yes, sir." + +[Footnote 1: Blunker--a blunderer, an oaf. Mechanical recording had +preserved the language in much of its original form, but new words did +creep in.] + + * * * * * + +A quick decision was necessary, and Mich'l acted without hesitation. +The guard had rolled over on his back, so that his face was out of the +water, and he was breathing with quick, painful gasps. Mich'l dragged +him up under the concealing shelter of the fountain spray, and there +changed clothes with him. In the meantime the flowing water washed +away the red stain of blood. When the captain returned with his guard, +Mich'l was lying realistically in the pool, apparently deep in drugged +sleep, the little kepi tilted rakishly over his face. + +He was roughly seized and dragged out of the water to the +accompaniment of much cursing. A fist crashed into his face. + +Suddenly the soldiers felt the supine figure under their hands explode +into energy. Elbows and fists seemed to fly from all directions at +once. A needle-ray appeared, and before they could draw their own +weapons they were howling with pain as searing welts drew over their +bodies. With one accord they plunged into the pool. Only the officer +remained, and he fell to the mosaic floor, his weapon half raised, the +small black hole in his chest giving off a burnt odor. + +Mich'l appropriated the officer's brassard of rank, and, menacing the +cowed guards, forced them to herd into a nearby room, carrying the +body of the officer with them. Mich'l locked the door and looked +around. He saw no one observing him, and could count on carrying a +pretty good bluff in his uniform, which was rapidly shedding its +water. With a firm step Mich'l walked to Lane Mollon's door, threw it +open, and entered. + + * * * * * + +Lane sat up on his couch, his feet striking the floor with an angry +thump. But when he recognized Mich'l he paled slightly. + +"Where is she?" Mich'l demanded roughly, "before I burn you down!" + +"You said once," Lane began sneeringly, "that you wanted to fight me. +Now, if you'll just put down that--" + +"Not now," Mich'l dissented with deadly coldness. "Where is Nida? +Speak fast." + +Lane did so. + +"She isn't here. The little short[2] crowned me with a chair, and +slipped out. How did I--" + +[Footnote 2: Short--trouble-maker, spitfire. A colloquialism probably +growing out of the once frequently used electrical term +"short-circuit."] + +"When? Hurry up!" + +"Hardly an hour ago. She walked down the corridor, showed a +thick-witted guard my own executive pass, and got away. But I got that +guard--" + +"Never mind what you did to the guard--" + +Suddenly the image of an officer strange to Mich'l stood in the room +and saluted smartly. + +"Has Captain Ilgen Mr. Lane Mollon's leave to stay?" he asked. + +Mollon started forward, but before he could disclose his predicament +Mich'l had sidled over to him and thrown one arm affectionately over +his shoulder. In his hand, concealed by the rich folds of Lane's robe, +Mich'l held his needle-ray, and it was pressed firmly against Lane's +ribs. + +"Mr. Mollon will be glad to hear you," Mich'l said smoothly. + + * * * * * + +He fancied that the eyes of the officer's image dilated slightly, but +it lost none of its military rigor. But some explanation of his +presence there in his still damp uniform must be given Ilgen, so he +growled, in a voice that he tried to make a bit thick, as if he had +chewed too much merclite: + +"At ease, Captain. At ease! Damn it man, you don't have to be so +damned military. You're among friends!" And he towseled Lane's dark +hair affectionately. + +Captain Ilgen looked his disgust. + +"Sir," he said to Lane, "we recaptured Nida Mane as she tried to board +a public car near the Executive Mansion." + +The black lens at the end of Mich'l's needle-ray pressed hard, and +Lane said naturally: + +"You have her in custody?" + +"Sir, we have." And to Mich'l's dismay, Nida, defiant, her lovely form +half revealed by rents in her garments, seemed to materialize beside +the officer. Her wrathful eyes were fixed on Lane, and then she saw +Mich'l. + +The technie put all his will into the pleading stare which he +returned, and she understood. She gave no sign of recognition, but +favored both Lane and Mich'l equally with the chill of her disdain. + +"Sir, what are your orders?" + +Lane glanced aside at Mich'l, acutely conscious of the lethal pressure +in his ribs. + +"'Sall right with me, old fellow," Mich'l squawked good-humoredly. +"This your girl that got away from you? Let's both go over and bring +her back." + +Lane nodded assent. The soldier saluted, and his vision and that of +the girl disappeared. + +"And we're going to do just that!" Mich'l added in an entirely changed +voice. "Get up, you. Act right, speak right, do right, and you may +live to see another day." + + * * * * * + +So the two left the warren in apparent amity, and walked the beautiful +street, with its richly formed, brightly colored arches, its seemingly +illimitable vistas, its luxuriant, pampered decorative vegetation, its +blazing lights--until at last they came to Administration Circle, and +entered the ponderous gates behind which lay the very heart of the +Government. + +They were challenged at once. Although the officer of the guard knew +Lane, usage required the showing of the daily pass. Many high officers +of the Government had in years past fallen from grace overnight. + +This formality complied with, Lane and Mich'l, the latter with his +ray-needle ever ready, sat down to wait in the guard room. And Lane, +under Mich'l's quiet prompting, ordered that Nida and her father be +brought to him. + +"We shall bring the girl, yes," the astonished officer protested, "but +not Senator Mane. He is a prisoner of state." + +"Perhaps you don't know, Captain," Mich'l suggested smoothly, "that it +is not wise to disregard the orders of the Provisional President's +son?" + +"It would cost me my commission, perhaps my life!" the officer said. + +"Neither would be worth much if you disobey!" Mich'l countered, a wire +edge creeping into his voice. + +The officer looked into Lane's stormy face, then with great reluctance +retreated to carry out the order. + +In about ten minutes he was back, with four guards and his prisoners. +He explained that Captain Ilgen was detained on official duty. + +"You may go," said Lane, prompted by a jab in the ribs. + +"A written receipt, please, sir, for the senator." + +Glowering, Lane wrote out the desired document. At last they were +alone. + +"Our program," Mich'l announced briskly, "is simple. You will conduct +us to one of the Government cars, and will ride with us to such places +as we may direct, and I shall release you when it pleases me. If you +then want to fight, I will accommodate you." + +"I would be willing to fight you, as head of the technies," Lane +countered sullenly, "but I wouldn't be bothered with a rebel and a +traitor. You've overstepped yourself this time, my fine bolthead, and +all I ask is a front seat at your execution!" + + * * * * * + +They stepped into the brightly lighted hall, and in that instant +Mich'l felt a searing heat on his shoulder. Without a moment's pause +he hurled Senator Mane and the girl back into the room. At the same +moment he flung an arm around Lane's neck and pulled him back into the +doorway, where he could use him as a shield while he cautiously peered +out into the corridor. His shoulder throbbed painfully, but his +movement had prevented the needle-ray from penetrating deeply in any +one place. + +A short distance up the corridor was a wider space, in the center of +which stood a large bronze urn filled with exotic plants. Behind this +urn were several soldiers, and Mich'l recognized the sharp-eyed +Captain Ilgen. So that officer had recognized the true state of +affairs, or had strong suspicions! But in his haste and eagerness he +had overlooked one important fact. In the guardroom, were riot-rays, +heavy replicas of the ordinary hand weapons. They had not been needed +for many years, but the technies had always kept them fully charged +and in order. + +"Nida!" Mich'l called, not removing his eye from the doorway. + +"Yes?" She was standing beside him, and Mich'l thrilled to the +admiration and positive affection in her intonation. + +"Notice those short tubes mounted on light wheels over against the +walls? Those are riot-ray projectors. Wheel me over a couple." + +Nida did as directed. Mich'l stuck the stubby muzzle of one of the +nearest weapons into the corridor, pulled the lever and swung the ray +in an arc toward the ambushed soldiers. There was a sharp crackling +noise and the heat chipped myriads of flakes off the stone walls, +leaving a gray path across the rich murals, and the air was filled +with flying particles. The heat was terrific. It beat back into the +doorway. + +Captain Ilgen gave a short, sharp order, and he and his men retreated +before the bronze urn began to wilt and drip melted metal. He could +not be accused of cowardice, for his hand weapons were puny compared +to the riot-rays. + +"Quick, before he gets in touch with the outer guard!" Mich'l urged +his prisoner forward, Senator Mane following. The grave patriarch of +rhetoric made a striking picture as he dragged the second riot-ray +along. The other one was abandoned, locked with full power on. It was +converting that corridor into an inferno, and there would be no +pursuit through that avenue. + + * * * * * + +Mich'l pushed open the metal door suddenly. Two guards on duty were +just coming in, their hand weapons ready. They never knew what struck +them for there was no time for compunction. But even as their bodies +sank to the paving there was the harsh clangor of alarm bells. +Soldiers dashed from everywhere and came running, their needle-rays +menacing. + +"In there!" Mich'l shouted. He pointed to the doors, at the dead +guards. As they hesitated, he added: + +"Revolution! They're storming the President's office! Hear the rays?" + +Through the doors came a faint humming, an acrid smell of heat, of +stone and metal fumes. A corporal saluted Mich'l, recognized Lane's +haggard features, and Lane again felt that cogent persuader in his +ribs. + +"That's right, Corporal!" he said bitterly. + +"Is the guard room occupied, sir?" + +"Not now, you fool!" Mich'l snapped at him. This resolved the last of +the corporal's misgivings. Giving an order, he led his men in, +gasping. + +"Now we'll run!" Mich'l ordered, giving Lane a shove. "Coming, Nida?" +She was dragging her father along joyously. They crossed the broad +pedestrian walk, and in the street found an official car nestling on +one of the tracks. + +"Heave in the riot-ray, will you, old fellow?" Mich'l requested +jovially, and Lane did. Then the listless chauffeur turned a +controller, and the big car rose a few inches, lightly as a feather, +and sped away swiftly through the maze of traffic. + + * * * * * + +Sometime later they were in a service lift; not one of the great +public lifts that carried their hundreds at a trip, but one of the +small lifts used mostly by the technies, and known to few outside +their ranks. Mich'l, standing blissfully close to Nida and her father, +enjoyed his moment of relaxation. Many things had been attended to. +Lane had been released at last, in one of the catacomb cemeteries. It +would take him at least two hours to find his way out. They were +discussing the riot-ray, which they had with them. + +"I hope we won't have to exhaust it in a fight before we get out," +Senator Mane said anxiously. "It would be a splendid weapon if we +encounter a hostile environment Outside." + +"The Gate is guarded," Mich'l said practically, "but we expect to +surprise them. No use worrying." + +The lift came to a stop at an air-lock. The great elevator shafts +were closed by airlocks every 2,000 feet. The reason is obvious. If +the air of the great, spheroid subterranean nation were allowed to +freely obey the laws of gravity, it would be oppressively dense in the +lower levels, and excessively rarified in the upper ones. While the +airlocks were operating Mich'l stepped to a telucid and gave the +agreed-on signal. + +In another half hour they were at 37X. The great, dusty, and +little-used storeroom was only poorly lighted; it was dank, and had an +uncomfortable chill. Technies and their families were coming in from +all sides, and it was not long before some five hundred persons, men, +women and children, were assembled. Many of them were pale and +frightened looking, for they were staking everything on an ideal, a +theory. There would be no coming back. The statute books of +Subterranea decreed only one penalty--death--for even the merest +tampering with the Frozen Gate. It was not like this that they had +visioned the opening of the Gate. Under properly controlled +conditions, it would have been possible to open the gate for +preliminary explorations. But not now. They were outside the law. + + * * * * * + +Nida, standing beside Mich'l, shivered and pulled her over-robe closer +around her. There was sadness in her voice as she said: + +"These children.... They remind me of the thousands of children we +must abandon with our people. If I could, I'd steal a few to take with +us." + +Mich'l grinned without mirth. + +"And be damned as a kidnapper of a particularly horrible sort, as long +as Subterranea lasts!" + +"I know. I know. But what will happen to them all when the automatic +machinery fails?" + +"They may learn to run it, if they have to. Or if we succeed in +establishing ourselves in the outer world we can tunnel back to them +around the Gate in a year or so. Don't worry about them too much. +We're taking the big risk, not they." + +Gobet Hanlon, accompanied by Flos Entine and Mila Mane, approached. He +was loaded down with a huge case of concentrated food. + +"I've given orders to bring with us all the cold resisting fabrics we +could carry. Got 'em loaded down, eh?" + +"All here?" + +"Every last one." + +"Let's go, then." Mich'l stepped to a small door that led into the +main corridor close to the Gate. This door had not been used by the +technies when assembling. Through a tiny hole the guard, four +soldiers, could be seen about a blanket, tossing sixteen-sided dice. +Mich'l opened the door, his needle-ray pointed. + +"Don't move, or you burn!" he commanded harshly. + + * * * * * + +The guards, taken completely by surprise, did not move. In a few +moments they were bound, gagged, and dumped into a corner of 37X. +Eager technies were swarming over the complicated mechanism that they +had dared to touch, before, only for inspection and maintenance. The +Frozen Gate was like a huge stopper in a bottle, made of chromium +steel. It was thirty feet in diameter, and thirty feet thick from its +well insulated inside face to that enigmatical Outside that had been a +grisly mystery to the race for some five hundred centuries. + +There was a flash of sparks, and the quiet hum of motors. With a +shuddering groan the great plug freed itself from the grip of +millennia; turned a few inches in its hole. The supporting gimbals +took the load now, and slowly the great mass moved inward, carried by +an overhead traveling crane whose track was bolted to the rock roof. +The rate of movement was slow, not much over three or four inches a +minute. + +An excited murmur filled the cavern--almost hysterical joy. But +Mich'l, watching that widening margin for the dreaded gush of liquid +air, only trembled with relief. At least the calamity that had visited +rash Atlantica would not be repeated here. + +A young technie, one of the heat distributors, climbed up the heavy +bosses on the gateway's face. + +"I'm going to be the first to see the Sun!" he shouted joyously. His +challenging gaze roved over the waiting crowd, and suddenly his face +turned ashen. For at the turn of the corridor, some hundred yards +away, he had seen men. No mistaking those uniforms; they were +soldiers. And Mich'l, following his gaze, saw a riot-ray being wheeled +into place. His own riot-ray already commanded the corridor, but he +dared not use it. The soldiers, under the partial protection of the +turn, could incinerate the helpless technies with little danger to +themselves. + +"Wait!" Mich'l shouted, running into the open. + + * * * * * + +An officer came to meet him. He then recognized Captain Ilgen, whose +exceptional shrewdness had almost undone him before. Ilgen could not +see the slow movement of the gate, and Mich'l, himself weaponless, +counted only on parleying for time. + +They met midway between the two forces, and the small black lens of +the captain's weapon pointed steadily at Mich'l's chest. + +"Mich'l Ares, I arrest you." It seemed that the captain's fine gray +eyes looked out of the lean face with real sympathy. "It may be there +will be executive clemency for these people of yours, but for you--" + +Mich'l, tense and deadly, saw the captain's vigilant attention leave +his face for a second; saw his eyes widen in consternation. He could +not know that Ilgen had seen a slender crescent of green light appear +in the Frozen Gate, but he did not lose the opportunity. His fist +crashed on the captain's jaw, so that the soldierly figure reeled and +the needle-ray fell to the ground. Mich'l leaped after him, picked him +up, held him. The riot-ray was turned full on him, and a soldier's +hand trembled on the lever. But it did not pull. + +"You'll kill him!" Mich'l shouted. And then he ventured to turn his +head to look at the Gate. He saw the first of the fugitives struggle +into the narrow crack. The gate seemed to have stuck, and there was +barely room to pass. Ilgen, half conscious, was trying to rain blows +on Mich'l's back, compelling him to stop and pass the officer's hands +through the belt of his tunic and to manacle them with a pair of +bracelets which he found in his pocket. As he staggered toward the +Gate with his burden, he saw Gobet beside him, the stolen riot-ray +menacing the soldiers, who would otherwise have rushed in. + + * * * * * + +Suddenly Ilgen struggled upright. + +"Fire," he commanded in stentorian tones. + +"They'll kill you too, you fool!" Mich'l exclaimed angrily. + +"I am a soldier!" Ilgen answered with contempt. His legs barely +supported his weight, and he was struggling to free his manacled +hands. He threw himself into the narrow crevice of the Gate, to +obstruct the stream of fugitives. He started to shout again: + +"Fi--" Crack! Again Mich'l's fist caught him. He hooked the officer's +elbows over two of the bosses, so that he was supported in plain sight +of his men, and turned to urge haste. The last two stragglers were +hurrying through, and with relief Mich'l turned to follow. But he set +the closing mechanism in motion before he leaped for the narrow +opening that was becoming still narrower, though very slowly. Now for +that green crescent of light, and hope! + +He felt a wave of heat. Glancing back, he saw the irresolute guards +scattered by the enraged charge of a square, blocky man in civilian +robe--the usually smiling Provisional President, Senator Mollon. +Mollon himself was fumbling with the lever of the riot-ray. Ilgen had +evidently reported where he was going before starting in pursuit of +the technies. + +Again that withering flash of heat, and Mich'l saw Captain Ilgen, +still semi-conscious, suddenly turn red-faced. Mollon would burn him +up without compunction, in the hope of catching one of the fugitive +technies. And now a figure in uniform leaped forward at Mollon's angry +gesture, and bent purposefully to the sighting tube. + +The crescent was now so slender that Mich'l had to turn sideways to +squeeze back into the corridor. And slowly, inexorably, it was growing +smaller still. With desperate haste the practiced, uniformed man was +adjusting his range. + +Captain Ilgen struggled when Mich'l seized him. + +"I arrest--" + +Mich'l thought for a sickening moment that he was caught in the +closing gate. Then he was free in the cylindrical tunnel into which +the plug was creeping. Luckily, Ilgen was slight. His body squeezed +through with little more difficulty than Mich'l's own. Now the opening +was too small for any man's body. A red glow illuminated that +narrowing slit; an acrid wave of heat, and the smell of burnt metal +came with the strong current of air that blew out of Subterranea. + + * * * * * + +Mich'l dragged his captive down the rocky tunnel, the floor of which +dipped gently away from the Gate; for drainage, no doubt. Around a +bend, the source of the greenish light was apparent. The fugitives +were in an ice cavern. The light seemed to emanate from roof and +walls. The air was uncompromisingly chill, for the blast of warm air +from Subterranea had stopped. + +But the cold of the air was nothing to the icy chill that settled on +the heart of Mich'l Ares, and the hearts of Senator Mane, and the +other leaders of this desperate enterprise. So this, this was the +Outside! A cavern of ice--small, hemmed-in! Those ancient folk-legends +of a Sun-- + +"I arrest you, Mich'l Ares!" + +Mich'l laughed shortly. What a single-minded fellow this Captain Ilgen +was! Still groggy, of course. Didn't know where they were. He left the +soldier with the red, blistered face. + +"Mich'l! Mich'l!" a voice echoed shrilly from the ice walls. It was a +high-pitched voice, and an excited one. A boy came flying out of a +narrow crevice, his short robe flying, his cloth-wrapped legs +twinkling. + +"Mich'l!" he shouted. "I saw it! I saw the Sun, the beautiful Sun!" + +Lucky it was that in the rush no one was hurt. The small cleft opened +into a wide tunnel, a low-roofed cave through which milky-white water +flowed. The cave opened upon a vista of blue sky and towering +mountains whose tops were burdened with snow and upon whose sides +glaciers slid down and melted; and the milky-white stream brawled down +into a green valley, far, far below. On a mountain meadow, not far +from the glacier that still buried the Frozen Gate, they rested.... + + * * * * * + +And so came a new strain of humanity upon the surface of the earth--a +strain tempered and refined by the inexorable process of evolution and +environment. Already animal life had reappeared, drastically changed +and ruthlessly weeded out by the most severe Ice Age the world had +ever known, and now Man stood once more on a new threshold of time. + +Something of this may have passed through the minds of the refugees +luxuriating in the strong sunlight of this mountain meadow, and in +active and alert brains the foundations of a new civilization were +already being built. + +They were preparing to go into the valley below when there was a dull +concussion. The glacier over the Frozen Gate rose slightly, then +disappeared completely out of sight, leaving a yawning hole in the +mountainside. Ice and rocks slid down, filling the hole. The refugees +gazed at the scene in fear and wonder. + +"They have blown up the gate! And the chambers leading to it!" Senator +Mane--now only Leo Mane--said slowly. "There goes our last chance to +save them!" His tones were deeply sad. He could not look upon these +people as an experiment that Nature had abandoned, although he knew +that history is thronged with the shadows of vanished races, culled by +the process of natural selection. + +But Youth looks only ahead. The majority of the rescued technies were +young, and with eagerness and anticipation, they followed Mich'l and +Nida Ares down into the valley to build their first homes. + + + + +The Midget From the Island + +A COMPLETE NOVELETTE + +_By H. G. Winter_ + +[Illustration: _"For God's sake, Hagendorff, what's come over you?"_] + + +[Sidenote: Garth Howard, prey to half the animals of the forest, +fights valiantly to regain his lost five feet of size.] + +In the chill of an early morning, a rowboat drifted aimlessly down the +Detroit River. It seemed to have broken loose from its mooring and +been swept away; its outboard motor was silent and it swung in slow +circles as the currents caught at it. But the boat carried a +passenger. A man's nude body stretched face downward in it. + +It was a startling figure that lay there. The body was fully matured +and had a splendid development of rounded muscles--and yet it was not +more than three feet in length. A perfectly formed and proportioned +manikin! The two officers in the harbor police launch which presently +slid alongside to investigate were giants in comparison. + +They had not expected to find such weird cargo in a drifting rowboat. +They stared at the naked, unconscious midget in utter amazement, as if +seeing a thing that could not be real. And when one of them reached +down to lift the tiny body aboard, his eyes went wider with added +surprise. His lift was inadequate. The dwarf's weight was that of a +normal-sized man! + +This was mystery on mystery. But they got the uncannily heavy figure +aboard at last and ascertained that, though the skin showed many +wounds and was blue from long exposure, the heart was still beating. +And realizing that the life might flicker out beneath their eyes +unless they took action immediately, they proceeded to work over him. + +After some minutes, the dwarf gave signs of returning consciousness. +His lids fluttered and opened, disclosing eyes that filled suddenly +with terror as they stared into the faces, huge in comparison, that +leaned over his. One of the officers said reassuringly: + +"You're all right, buddy: you're on a harbor police launch. But who in +the devil are you? D'you speak English? Where'd you come from?" + + * * * * * + +The midget struggled to speak; struggled desperately to tell something +of great importance. They bent closer. Gasping, high-pitched words +came to their ears, and the story that those words told held them +spellbound. When the shrill voice ceased and the dwarf sank back into +the coat they had thrown around him, the two policemen gazed at each +other. One whistled softly, and his companion said soberly: + +"We'd better phone up and have the local police tend to this right +away, Bill." + +Thus, two hours later, several miles up the river, another launch +containing three officers came to its destination, a solitary, +thickly-wooded island that brooded under a cloak of silence where the +river leaves broad Lake St. Clair. The launch crept up to a mooring +post a few feet from a small, rough beach, and was tied there. +Quickly, the men waded ashore and tiptoed up a winding trail that was +barred from the sun by dank foliage. They soon came to a clearing +where a large cabin had been built. There, one of them whispered, +"Guns out!" + +Then the three men crossed the clearing and cautiously entered the +cabin. + +For a moment there was silence. Then came a terrified shout, followed +by the bunched thunder of a succession of pistol shots. The +reverberations slowly died away, and some time later the policemen +reappeared and stood outside the door. + +One of them, dazed, kept repeating over and over, "I wouldn't have +believed it! I wouldn't have believed it!" and another nodded in +wordless agreement. The third, white-faced, stared for a long time +unseeingly at the cloud-flecked bowl of the sky.... + +But it would be best, perhaps, to tell the story as it happened. + + * * * * * + +The incredible events that shaped it began two nights before, when the +larger of the two rooms in the island cabin was bathed in the bald +glare of a strong floodlight that threw into sharp prominence the +intent features of two men in the room, and the complicated details of +the strange equipment around them. + +Garth Howard, the younger of the two, was holding a tiny, squawling, +spitting thing, not more than three inches long, which might have +seemed, at a quick glance, to have been a normal enough kitten. Closer +inspection, however, would have revealed that it had a thick, smooth +coat, a lithe, fully developed body and narrowed, venomous +eyes--things which no week-old kitten ever possessed. It was a mature +cat, but in the size of a kitten. + +Howard's level gray eyes were held fascinated by it. When he spoke, +his words were hushed and almost reverent. + +"Perfect, Hagendorff!" he said. "Not a flaw!" + +"The reduction has not improved her temper," Hagendorff articulated +precisely. His deep voice matched the rest of him. Garth Howard's +clean-muscled body stood a good six feet off the floor, yet the other +topped him by inches. And his face compared well with his bulky body, +for his head was massive, with overhanging brows and a shaggy mop of +blond hair. Athlete and weight-lifter, the two looked, but in reality +they were scientist and assistant, working together for a common end. + + * * * * * + +The room in which they stood was obviously a laboratory. Bulky gas +engines and a generator squatted at one end; tables held racks of +tools and loops of insulated wiring and jars of various chemicals. One +long table stretched the whole length of the room, placed flush +against the left wall, whose rough planking was broken by a lone +window. There were racks of test tubes on this table, and tools, +carelessly scattered by men intent on their work. + +Still another table was devoted to several cages, containing the usual +martyrs of experimental science: guinea pigs and rabbits, rats and +white mice. Beside these was a large box, screen topped, in which, in +separate partitions, were a variety of insects: beetles and flies and +spiders and tarantulas. + +But the thing that dominated the laboratory was the machine on the +long table against the wall. Its chamber, the most striking feature, +was a cube of roughly six feet, built of dull material resembling +bakelite. Wires trailed through it from the glittering plate, which +was the chamber's floor, and a curved spray-shaped projector overhead, +to an intricately constructed apparatus studded with vacuum tubes. A +small switchboard stood beside the chamber, and from it thick cables +led to the generator in the rear of the room. + +"Let us return her to normal," Hagendorff rumbled after a moment or +two devoted to prodding and examining the diminutive cat. "Then for +the final experiment." + +One whole wall of the cubical chamber was a hinged door, with a tier +of several peep-holes. Garth Howard swung the door open, placed the +tiny, struggling cat inside and quickly closed it again. "Right," he +said briefly, and pressed his eyes to the bottom peep-hole. + + * * * * * + +A switch was pulled over, and the dynamo's drone pulsed through the +room. Hagendorff's fingers rested on a large lever that jutted from +the switchboard. Slowly, he pulled it to one side. + +The imprisoned cat, small as a rat, had been nervously whipping its +tail from side to side and meowing plaintively; but, as the lever +swung over, there came a change. The vacuum tubes behind the +switchboard glowed green; a bright white ray poured from the spray in +the chamber, making the metal plate below a shimmering, almost molten +thing. The animal's legs suddenly braced on it; its narrowed eyes +widened, glazing weirdly, while the tail became a stiff, bristling +ramrod. And, as a balloon swells from a strong breath, the cat's body +increased in size. It grew not in spurts, but with a smooth, flowing +rhythm: grew as easily as a flower unfolding beneath the sun. + +In only a few seconds its original size was attained. Howard raised +his hand; the lever shot back and the white beam faded into +nothingness. A full sized and very angry cat tore around the inside of +the chamber. + +"Normal?" Hagendorff questioned. The other nodded and prepared to open +the door. + +"Wait! She always was a little undersized; I give her a few inches +more as a reward." + +"Not too much," warned Garth. "She's got a nasty temper; we don't +want a wildcat prowling round here!" + +The white beam flashed, the tubes glowed and almost instantly +flickered off again. When the chamber's door was opened, an indignant +and slightly oversized cat bounded through, leaped from the table with +a squawled oath of hatred and streaked into the front room of the +cabin. + + * * * * * + +Garth turned and faced Hagendorff, a smile on his lips and a gleam in +his eyes. He ran his fingers through his black hair. + +"Well," he said, "now it's time for the final experiment. Who shall it +be?" + +Hagendorff did not answer at once, and the American went on: + +"I think it'd better be me. There's a slight risk, of course, and I, +as the inventor, could never ask an assistant to do anything I +wouldn't. Is it all right with you?" + +Hagendorff nodded quickly in answer. Garth stood reflecting for a +moment. + +"Guinea pigs, rabbits and insects have survived reduction to +one-twentieth normal size," he said slowly. "It should be safe for the +human body to descend just as far. But stop me at about two feet this +first time. I'm not taking any chances; I want to be alive and kicking +when I announce the success of my experiments to the scientific +world." + +His assistant said nothing. + +"Well, here goes," Garth added. "I'd better take off my clothes if I +don't want to be buried in them. They're not affected by the process. +Must be because of the lack of organic connection between their fibers +and the human body." + +A few minutes later, nude, he jumped onto the laboratory table. He +presented a perfect specimen of well-developed manhood as he stood +before the door of the chamber. His smooth skin, under which the +rounded muscles rolled easily, gleamed white beneath the glare of the +floodlight. His gray eyes glanced at the stolid assistant, who already +had one hand on the switchboard's lever. Garth saw that the hand was +trembling slightly, and smiled as he realized Hagendorff was as +excited as he. He said: + +"I'll leave the door ajar, so you can more easily watch every phase of +the reduction. If it's painful--well, I guess I can stand anything a +cat can!" + +Then, stooping slightly, Garth stepped in and drew the door almost +shut. + + * * * * * + +He relaxed as much as possible from the tremendous excitement that +filled him, and nodded at Hagendorff. + +"I'm ready," he said. "Go ahead!" + +The ray came to his body as the crash of thunder comes to the ear. His +nerves leaped as it struck and enveloped him. He felt as if he were +entombed in ice, and yet his veins were aflame. Fiery shafts fanged +him all through and resolved, presently, into a measured, tingling +beat. + +His thoughts raced. He knew that those minute particles of matter, the +atoms of his body, were being compacted; he sensed that his legs were +rigid, his body stiff, his eyes clamped ahead in a glazed stare. He +was only half-conscious of the objects outside, but the dim sight of +them was fantastic and nauseous. + +There was Hagendorff's face peering in at him--growing! Swelling as +the cat's body had swollen; and yet receding and rising until Garth, +momentarily forgetting that he was the one whose size was changing, +thought that the man's titanic body would fill the room. But the room +was growing, too: the stools were becoming leviathans of wood, the +walls were like cliffs, the compact switchboard was a large surface +of black, and the chamber in which he stood grew into a high-roofed +vault, its sides shooting up and retreating as if shoved by invisible +hands. + +And still he sank, and still the terrible light devoured him. + +Suddenly a delirious sensation engulfed him; his senses went reeling +away, and he staggered. Then with a wrench he came to. As he regained +control of his mind he knew the lever had been switched off and the +process completed. + +He found that he was gasping. He passed a hand over his sweat-studded +face and looked around. + + * * * * * + +Outside was the room of a giant. And in a moment a giant became +visible. His vast bulk filled the chamber's doorway; his mammoth face +peered in. Garth's eardrums quivered from a deep bass rumble, sounding +like thunder on a distant horizon. + +"Are you all right, Howard?" + +A finger half the length of his own arm reached forward and prodded +him. For a second Garth could do nothing but stare at it. It brought +home to him starkly the puny size of his body, only two feet in +height. He felt suddenly afraid. But that was foolish, he thought; and +he laughed, his voice ludicrously high and shrill. + +"I'm all right," he cried. "But I can hardly understand you. If I were +much smaller, I probably couldn't--your voice'd seem so deep. Gangway, +Hagendorff, I'm coming out!" + +His eyes were just below the level of the giant's shoulders. He +stepped from the black chamber and stared amazedly at the room, at the +chairs, the objects in it--at the laboratory table on which he was +standing, along which he might have sprinted thirty yards. A surge of +exultant animal spirits flowed through him. His dream had become a +reality; the machine had passed its last test! His body was sound and +whole; he felt perfectly natural; he had not changed, save in size; +and in size he was like Gulliver, confronted with a Brobdingnagian +room! + +He hurdled a five-inch-high box of tools, ran down the creaking table +and stood laughing in front of a rack of test tubes half as high as he +was. Three strides took Hagendorff opposite him; and from above the +thunderous voice rumbled: + +"What were your sensations?" + +"Probably as close as man'll ever get to the feelings of a spark of +electricity!" the midget replied. "But bearable, though I was freezing +and burning at the same time. My body was rigid, paralyzed--just like +the animals we used. I couldn't move." + +"You're sure you couldn't move? You were helpless?" + + * * * * * + +The booming voice throbbed with sudden interest. Garth looked up +curiously. "No," he repeated. "I couldn't move. But lift me down, +Hagendorff. I want to take a walk on the floor." + +A hand wrapped around his body, tensed and strained upwards. The +two-foot-high man was not quite pulled off the table. Then Hagendorff +grunted and relaxed his grasp. + +"I had forgotten," he rumbled. "Your weight remains the same. You are +one-third my size, yet you weigh almost as much as I do. Weight, which +is the sum of the mass of all the atoms in you, is not, naturally, +affected by compacting those atoms." + +It was only by a great effort that he was able to deposit the manikin +on the floor. + +For a while Garth strolled around, savoring to their full the +fantastic sensations his diminished stature gave him, at once amused +and somehow frightened by the overwhelming size of the laboratory. To +his eyes, the tables were like bridges; Hagendorff's broad figure +loomed monstrously over him, and the guinea pigs and rabbits in their +cages seemed as big as fair-sized dogs. With a grin, he looked up at +the giant who was his assistant. + +"Think I'll make the return trip, and give you a chance," he said. +"I've had my share, and the process has been proven. It's weird, being +down in this new world all alone. I'd hate to think what would happen +if a rat came along!" + +Silently, Hagendorff stooped and grasped him again. But Garth, when he +stood once more inside the chamber, regarded his huge, rough-moulded +face curiously. + +"Say," he said, puzzled, "your hands are trembling like the devil! +What's wrong? You're more nervous than I am!" + +Hagendorff did not answer. He advanced to the switchboard. His +narrowed, deep-set eyes shot a quick glance at the small, nude man +inside the chamber, and for a second one hand hovered over the lever +on the panel. + + * * * * * + +In that tense second a flash of intuition, of deadly fear, came to +Garth Howard, and he leaped wildly forward. But his rear foot did not +leave the floor of the chamber, and his shout of alarm was choked +midway. Again the fierce ray paralyzed every muscle in him, and he was +locked motionless where he was. + +Helplessly, his glazed eyes stared at Hagendorff, while every moment +his rigid little body melted downwards. He was becoming rapidly +smaller, not larger! + +Through the agony of the stabbing electrical waves, in vain Garth +tried to wrench his legs free. The few inches that separated him from +the door were an impassable barrier. Sheer panic clutched him. He was +trapped. But why? Why had Hagendorff tricked him? + +As if reading the question, the giant outside came close to the +chamber's door and regarded his captive with eyes that were lit by a +peculiar flame. He grunted, then reached backward and returned the +switchboard lever almost to the neutral point, reducing the speed of +the decreasing process. + +"Yes, that is better," the German gloated, in a deep, satisfied tone. +"It will be slower, now. Slower--and more interesting to watch!... I +fancy your eyes are reproachful, my friend. Why have I done it, you +wonder? _Ach!_ This machine, it will startle the world of science; it +will make its inventor famous--not? Yes; and did you think I was going +to stand by and see all the credit go to you? No! To me it shall +go--me alone! And you--" He chuckled and rubbed his hands before going +on. + +"You shall be what the newspapers call a martyr to science. You shall +sink to a foot, to six inches--to one inch--even less, I think! +Eventually the reduction will kill you, of course; and your body shall +be proof of how you died--in an experiment--and shall also prove the +machine's power and my genius!" + + * * * * * + +He laughed thunderously, a blond and malevolent titan. He did not +notice that, with the lessening of the reduction's speed, a slight +trace of control over his muscles had returned to the midget inside. +His tiny body was slowly diminishing, and complete, hopeless paralysis +and death was not far away. But Garth was fighting every second, +fighting desperately with the trace of strength he possessed to slide +to the door, break the contact and get out from under the ray's +remorseless influence. Almost imperceptibly, the effort lacerating +him with pain, he slid his feet forward. Hagendorff talked on. He +seemed to be blinded by the vision of the fame his treachery would +bring him. + +"We shall have an experiment, my Professor; and then you will have an +interesting death! The ray will suck you down; you will crumple and +crumple till you're not much bigger than my thumbnail! And then I +shall--_ah!_" + +Garth had torn loose. Calling on every ounce of strength and will, the +midget, now no more than one foot high, had reached the edge of the +floor plate and pitched out onto the long laboratory table. + +Giant and dwarf faced each other. For a moment neither spoke or moved. +A breathless tensity hung over the laboratory. The machine droned on, +forgotten. From outside, startlingly near, came the eery hoot of an +owl. + +A tight smile broke through the angry surprise on Hagendorff's face. +"Well, well!" he said, with gargantuan, macabre humor. "We object! It +was foolish, eh, to reduce the power? Next time, it shall not be so. +We--_object!_" + +With the word, he lunged, and his bulky arms lashed down in a wide, +grasping sweep. + +But Garth's taut muscles, retaining all the strength and vigor of +their normal size had been awaiting just such a move, and his tiny +body described the arc of a tremendous leap that neatly vaulted one +huge arm and started him sprinting swiftly down the table. + + * * * * * + +At the end he wheeled, and before the other overcame his surprise at +such a nimble retreat, burst out indignantly: + +"For God's sake, Hagendorff, what's come over you? Be sensible! You +can't do this; you can't really mean it! Why--" + +"So!" roared the assistant, and his rush cut short the midget's +shrill, frantic words. But his grasp this time was better judged; +Garth felt the great fingers slip over his body. Remembering his +strength, he lashed out at one with all his might. Hagendorff grunted +with pain; but instead of continuing the attack, he suddenly turned +and strode to the door leading into the other room, and closed it with +a bang. + +"You cannot escape," he growled, advancing again; "you merely delay." + +Panting, Garth glanced around the room. He was, in truth, trapped. +There was but the one door; and even if he could reach it, he could +not get it open, for the handle would be far above him. The room was a +sealed arena. For a little while it would go on--a wild leaping and +dodging on the table, a hopeless evading of mammoth hands ... and +then, inevitably, would come a crushing grip on his body, followed by +experimentation and the agony of death in the black chamber. + +Fearful, he waited, a perfect, living statuette, twelve inches +high.... + +A grunt preluded the giant's vicious charge. The American staggered +from the brush of a sweeping hand; then, twisting mightily, he dove +under it, like a mouse slipping under the paw of a cat. In doing so he +fell sprawling; and though he was up in a moment, his arm was held. A +hoarse, exultant rumble came to his ears. + +"Caught, my friend!" + +But Hagendorff spoke too soon. With a great wrench, Garth broke free, +and made a tigerish dash back along the table toward the window. And +even as the clumsy titan jumped to the side and grabbed again at him, +he hurled his tiny, heavy body against the pane, and went plunging +through a shower of glass into the cool dark night outside. + + * * * * * + +He fell five feet, and the wind was jarred out of him as he crashed +through the branches of a bush under the window into the sodden earth +beneath. Unhurt, save for a few lacerations from the glass, he +staggered to his feet, gasping for his breath, and started to run +across the clearing towards the fringe of dense forest growth that +ringed the cabin. + +Then he heard thunderous footsteps and, a second later, the sound of +the front door being pulled open. Garth turned in his tracks, and +stumbled back beneath the cabin, thanking heaven that it was raised on +short stilts. But the ruse did not give him much of a start, and by +the time he had painfully threaded his way between the piles of timber +left underneath the cabin, Hagendorff had discovered the trick and was +scouting back. + +Then, with the strength of the hunted, Garth was out from under the +other side and sprinting for the doubtful sanctuary of the forest. + +His tiny feet, carrying the weight of a normal-sized man, sank ankle +high into the muddy ground, several times almost tripping him. Even as +he got to where a trail through the bush began, and passed from the +cold starlight into spaces black with clustered shadows, he heard a +bellow from behind, and, glancing back, saw a monstrous shape come +leaping on his tracks. + +He had only seconds in which to find refuge; he could not stick to the +trail. Thick bush, dank and heavy from recent rains, was on either +side, fugitive streaks of pale light from above painting it eerily. +Garth plunged into the matted growth, dropped to hands and knees and +wormed forward away from the trail. Earth-jarring footbeats sounded +close. With frantic haste he wrenched though the scratching tendrils +and came to a miniature clearing. + + * * * * * + +He saw the tilted shape of a rotted tree-stump, its roots half washed +away and exposing a narrow crevice between them. Gasping, the nude, +foot-high figure tumbled down into it, and lay there, trying to hush +his labored breathing. + +He was a mere twenty feet from the trail; and though to him the bush +was a jungle, to his pursuer it was only chest-high. A towering shadow +moved along the trail. The thud of heavy footbeats came more slowly to +the listening midget. Hagendorff was searching, puzzled by the vague +shadows, for where Garth had left the path. + +Silence fell. + +Garth's heart was pounding like a trip-hammer. He held himself alert, +ready, if need be, to struggle up from the moist crevice and dart on +further into the bush. He could not see the giant, but could picture +his huge, sullen face all too clearly. Still no sound came. Risking +all, he gripped a root and hauled himself up slightly. Then he peered +around the stump. + +Hagendorff was standing in the thick of the bush. He was not ten feet +away, striving in the gloom to discern the other's tell-tale tracks. +Garth drew his head back, hardly daring to breathe. Shivering, his +naked body miserably cold, he waited, pressed down in the soggy earth. +His betraying tracks were there; the shadows alone befriended him. + +The silence was drawn so fine that the faint cheep of a night-bird +sounded startlingly loud. But then came thunder that sent the bird +winging away in fright, and the night and the forest echoed with the +roar of a wrathful, impatient human voice. + +"You hear me, wherever you are! And hear this: I leave you now, but in +ten minutes I have you! You little fool--you think you can get free? +It is only by minutes you delay me!" + +Snarling a curse, the treacherous giant turned and crashed through the +bush and took his huge form striding back towards the cabin. + + * * * * * + +Garth was thinking of many things as he scrambled back wearily from +his refuge to the trail. He was cursing the unwanted publicity which +prying reporters had given his work in Detroit, and which had led him +to lease the lonely island and build a laboratory in the wilderness. +Had it not been for that publicity, he would never have needed an +assistant, and the vision of fame would never have come to delude +Hagendorff and turn his thoughts towards murder. + +His position seemed a horrible delirium from which he must presently +awake. Naked, dwarfed by each ordinary forest weed, unarmed, and +trembling from the wind-sharpened night, he hardly knew which way to +turn. His body was blotched with blood and mud, and under it the +ragged gashes made by glass and bush stung painfully; he was hungry +and stiff and tired and miserable. He remembered Hagendorff's threat +of capturing him in ten minutes, and forced a smile to his face. + +"Looks kind of bad," he muttered, using his voice in an attempt to +dispel some of the lonely grip of the night, "but we'll keep moving, +anyway! He's coming back soon. Let's see: I'd better make for the +stream. It'll be hard for him to follow my tracks through that. And +then...." + +Then--what? The island was small. He realized he could not stand many +hours of exposure. Inevitably--But he turned his mind from the future +and its seeming hopelessness, and concentrated on the immediate need, +which was to hide himself. Forcing the pace, he struck off on a +shambling trot down the dim trail, on into the deepening, sinister +shadows towards the island's lone stream. + + * * * * * + +Obstacles that normally he would not have noticed made his path +tortuous. His great weight sank his feet ankle-high in the moist, +uneven ground. Time and time again he stumbled over some imbedded rock +that, potato-sized, was like a boulder to him. Time and time again he +fell, and when he rose his legs were plastered with soggy earth that +did not dry; and the damp, fallen leaves and twigs he pitched into +clung to his coating of mud. Each broken limb and branch, dropped from +the whispering gloom of the trees above, drained the energy from his +tiring muscles. Soon he was conscious of a vague numbness creeping +over him, a deceptive, drowsy warmth into which he longed to sink, but +which he drove back by working his arms and legs as vigorously as he +could. + +On he went, with teeth clenched and eyes fixed on the half-seen trail +ahead--a fantastic, tiny creature hunted like a wild animal by a giant +of his own kind! + +Presently, through the shroud of darkness traced by ghostly slivers of +starlight, came the sound of trickling water. The trail rose, dipped +down; and through that hollow crawled the stream, winding from a +hidden spring to the encompassing river below. Garth was winded when +he came to it; to his eyes it seemed a small river. His legs were so +numb they hardly felt the cold bite of the water that lapped around +them. + +Some furry water animal leaped away as Garth trudged upstream, alarmed +by the strange midnight visitant and the self-encouraging mutterings +of a shrill human voice.... + + * * * * * + +He had waded what seemed to him a weary distance--in reality only a +few hundred yards--through the winding, icy creek, when suddenly he +halted and stood stock-still. Listening, he heard the ordinary sounds +of the wind through the fir-spires, and the slow trickle of water; +heard the beating of his own heart. Nothing else. And yet.... He took +another step. + +Then he swung quickly around and peered back, senses alert. There was +no mistaking the sound that had come again. It was the crunch of heavy +feet, thudding at even intervals on damp earth. They were +Hagendorff's; and he was armed with light! + +A long beam of white speared through the tangle of bush and tree +trunks far below. It came slanting down from above, prying for the +story recorded by miniature footprints in the ground. By its distance +from him, Garth could tell Hagendorff had come to where his trail led +into the stream. The ray held steady for minutes. Again it prowled +nervously around, hunting for tell-tale signs, sweeping in widening +circles. Then, it was punctuated by the crunch of a boot. + +The giant was following upstream! + +With the flashlight, he might even be able to trace the prints in the +bed of the creek. Stooping, Garth crept ahead, as silently as he +could, though the stir of water at his feet seemed terribly loud. +There were keen ears behind, craned for sounds like that. He knew he +would have to hide again--quickly--and at that moment he saw a place. + +A cleft in the bank to his right held a small hole, dimly limned by a +wisp of starlight. On hands and feet the midget scrambled cat-like to +it. It slanted down and inwards, only inches wide, so that the earth +was close to his body when he slid feet-first inside. But it was warm +and dry, for it was shielded by a ledge from rain, and with the warmth +the hunted manikin's spirits rose somewhat. The ray of light, which he +could see sweeping back and forth downstream, was still following +slowly, as if Hagendorff were having trouble making out the +water-covered trail. Garth breathed easier, cuddled down--and then, +for some unaccountable reason, he felt uneasy. + + * * * * * + +He had not noticed it at first, but now his nostrils were filled with +a queer, musky odor that electrified his nerves and tensed his +muscles. He felt the short hairs on his neck rise; felt his lips +tighten and draw back over clenched teeth. Some long-buried instinct +was warning him of danger--and suddenly he sprang from the hole and +swung around. + +From it, a killer came snaking out, its bared fangs thirsty for his +life blood! + +Arching and swaying its lithe-muscled body, it slid forward in its +graceful, savage way--a weasel, the deadliest pound-for-pound killer +that prowls the forest. It was as long as the naked human who faced it +was tall. Unwittingly, he had chosen its hole as a refuge. + +Retreat would have been impossible, but Garth for some reason did not +even think of it. A strange new sensation poured through his tense +body, a sensation akin to fierce joy. Gone was his tiredness; his +teeth too were bared, matching the wicked fangs before him. Two primal +creatures they were, tooth to tooth and claw to claw, the man as naked +and intoxicated with the blood lust as the ten pounds of bone and +sinew that now darted suddenly for his throat. + +With the lightning quickness that had come to him with small size, +Garth stepped aside. And as the weasel's head streaked by he called +on man's distinctive weapon, and put every ounce of his weight behind +a right arm swing that landed square on a cold black nose and doubled +the weasel back in midair. + +Stunned, it writhed for a second on the slippery bank; and then again +it was up, mad with pain now and swaying slightly as it gathered for a +second leap against this creature that fought so strangely. + + * * * * * + +But in the momentary respite Garth had reasoned out his best chance. +He did not try to fight off the second dart with his fists, but went +boldly in. Ducking through the needle claws with head lowered, his +tiny hands streaked in on the furry throat. He found it, and his +fingers thumbed into the wind-pipe; but not before the weasel smelled +the blood its claws had drawn and went utterly berserk. For a moment +there was a wild flurry of furry, tearing legs and a blood-streaked +white body between them, trying desperately to evade their slicing +strokes. They pitched down the bank together, animal and man +struggling silently to the death; and when they jarred to a stop in +the water below, Garth's strategy was achieved. + +He was uppermost; his grip was steel around the throbbing throat, and +the hundred and eighty pound weight of his body was holding the legs +powerless. Not an inch from his face the weasel's fangs clashed +frantically together. Garth maintained his clutch, squeezing with +every bit of his mighty strength. The animal shuddered; then writhed +in the death convulsions; at last lay still. + +Panting, his mind a welter of primate emotions roused by the kill, the +man shook it a last time, jumped to his feet and glared around--to see +the beam of a flashlight only a dozen yards away. His more deadly foe, +the human foe, was upon him. Perhaps the sounds of the fight had +reached his ears. + +Garth lost not a moment. Quickly he slung the weasel's body back into +the hole and jammed himself down after it. + + * * * * * + +Hagendorff approached slowly, mumbling and cursing to himself in +sullen ill-humor. Things were not going as he had expected them to. +The white ray scoured the banks of the stream, searching doggedly. +Nearer he came, and with each step the watching midget's rapid +breathing grew tighter. The towering body was more than shadow now. +Another ten feet and the flashlight would find the marks of the fight. + +But the titan's patience gave out. Closer than he had yet been to his +quarry, he paused, and again the thunder of his voice broke the +night's hush. + +"Bah! This is foolish! In daylight I find him certainly. I have waited +long; I can wait a little more. I need sleep. To-morrow, it will be +different!" + +He swung away from the stream, and in a few minutes the rip and crash +of his progress through the bush had died. In the silence, Garth +Howard considered his situation. + +He faced it squarely, as was his custom. He did not brood over the +treachery of his assistant, or of how unfairly and suddenly it had +plunged him into peril and robbed him of his normal body. He accepted +his position and searched for possible angles of escape. There were +not many hours left in which to make a decisive move. The island was +small, and, as Hagendorff had said, discovery would be inevitable in +daytime. + +Garth thought of the machine, and of the giant sleeping. A desperate +plan came to him, and his jaws set decisively. "I'll do it!" he +exclaimed aloud. + +The lever which controlled both increase and decrease could be worked +from inside the chamber if he rigged up a system of turning it with a +wire or rope. If he pulled it to the increase only part way, he would, +he knew, have sufficient power over his muscles to pull it back off, +or slide again from the chamber, as he had done before. Whether or not +he could do this depended on Hagendorff's being asleep. Possibly he +could be locked in the living room, if he were there. Or tied. The +increase, even at half speed, would only take about forty seconds. +Once back to his size there would be a fight without odds, Garth +thought grimly. + + * * * * * + +It was a big risk, and there was probably only a small chance of +succeeding, but it meant getting back to six feet, back to a normal +world, back to equal terms. That was the magnet which drew him +presently toward the cabin laboratory. + +He went slowly, to allow Hagendorff plenty of time to fall soundly +asleep. The giant, as he had said, needed sleep--needed it badly--for, +like Garth Howard, he had done without it for forty-eight hours under +the excitement of imminent success in their work. Garth considered +that his move would be totally unexpected, being made right into the +other's territory. There was a chance. + +And so, cold and weariness banished by thoughts of the goal ahead, he +prowled back along the trail like any small creature of the forest. + +It was half an hour later when he came in sight of the cabin. His +heart drummed excitedly as he stood in the shadows surveying it. He +wondered if Hagendorff was still awake; if he was, perhaps, waiting +for him. Certainly he did not seem to be: the cabin was dark and +silent, and the only door was tightly closed. Still--it might be +wiser to retreat while still free.... + +"No, by heaven!" Garth Howard exclaimed in his thoughts. "I'm going +through with it!" Stooping slightly, he left the shadows and ran +boldly into the starlight. + +He half expected to hear a scuffle of feet and see the giant come +leaping out at him; but nothing broke the silence. He made his careful +way along the side of the cabin to the place where a trough for waste +liquids led through a small hole at the level of the floor, and with +great care wormed through. + + * * * * * + +As he started to cautiously reconnoiter, he was suddenly arrested in +his tracks. He had caught the sound of deep, rhythmic breathing. +Hagendorff was asleep, not in the adjoining living room--but in the +laboratory! + +For a moment, Garth did not know what to do. Caution urged him to +retreat; but that would not get him back to his size. On tip-toe, he +explored around. The boards squeaked beneath his great weight, but the +nearby breathing beyond continued in regular rhythm. + +His eyes were toned to the darkness of the laboratory; he saw the +chamber of his atom-compacting machine, its outer sides ghostly in the +faint, reflected starlight, and stared at it with a pang of fierce +longing. So near, it was--so very near! Holding the stolen size of his +body; holding all that was vital to him; holding life itself--it +rested there silently, within reach of a few steps and a quick climb +up one of the table legs. So he thought, his brain whirling with +mingled emotions, his tiny body shivering and aching with cold and its +many hurts. The machine was near--but a barrier blocked the way. + +Hagendorff's bulk lay outstretched on a side table, black in the +shadows, and from him came the level breathing of a sound sleeper, +climaxed now and again by a rumbling snore. He was taking no chances; +his presence there seemed to destroy any hope of the midget's +regaining normal size. But Garth was desperate, and for a minute or so +he considered. + + * * * * * + +Forty seconds, the increase would take, at half speed. It might be +that long before the giant would waken thoroughly and see what was +happening. He, Garth, might start the process, and, when he saw the +huge figure stirring and waking from the noise of the dynamo, switch +off the ray and get out. No matter how short a time it took Hagendorff +to throw off the fogginess of his sleep, he would be somewhat +increased in size, and the odds of combat would not be so great. + +It was a terrible risk. Did he dare take it? He thought of the forest, +of the raw night, of what was threatened in the morning.... Yes! + +Silently, the manikin clasped the nearest table leg, shinnied up and +hauled himself over the top. As he got there his heart leaped. A sharp +thumping had come from behind. He dropped to his knees and glanced +round; but he immediately rose again, reassured. It was only the +rabbits in their cage, disturbed by the strange figure on the table. +He thanked God that they--and his tarantulas and other insects--could +make no alarming noises. + +Garth found a long strand of wire. The panel's control lever, swung to +the left, controlled increase; to the right, decrease. Garth's plan +was to wind the middle of the wire around it, relay each end around +the two supporting posts of the switchboard, and thus have both ends +of the wire in his hands when he stood inside the chamber. One end of +the wire would enable him to pull the lever over for increase, and +the other to pull it back to neutral when the increase was completed, +or when Hagendorff arose. + +Quickly he started to arrange the wire. Then suddenly his hands +dropped and he stared dismayed at the control panel. + +The power switch had been removed! + + * * * * * + +It was Hagendorff's work, of course. He had guarded every angle. +Without that switch, the mechanism was lifeless and literally +powerless. It worked on a delicately adjusted and enclosed rheostat; +there was nothing that could be substituted for it. It would take +hours to improvise one in the heart of the apparatus. + +The switch, Garth reflected bitterly, was probably concealed somewhere +about the giant's body. + +He considered the possibility of tying him. He knew where there was a +coil of light, pliable wire on the floor; he might be able to loop it +over the giant's hands and legs while he slept, tie him securely, and +then go through his pockets for the switch. Another hazard! But there +was nothing else to do. + +Garth lowered himself over the table's edge and slid quietly down the +leg. He glanced at the sleeping man, then over across the room to +where, beneath another table, the wire was--and his nerves jumped at +what he saw there. + +From the darkness under the table two spots of greenish fire, close to +the floor, held steadily on him. + +As he stared, they vanished, to reappear more to the right. With the +movement, he glimpsed the outline of a lithe, crouching animal, and +knew it to be the cat he and Hagendorff had experimented on earlier +that night. It was stalking him in the deliberate manner of its kind! + + * * * * * + +It came edging around, so as to leap on him from the side. He knew +that he represented fair prey to it; that if he tried to run, it would +pounce on him from behind. Wearily he tensed his miniature body, +standing poised on the balls of his feet and never dropping his eyes +for a moment. He could not repress a grim smile at the ludicrousness +of being attacked by an ordinary house-cat, even though it was +tiger-sized to him. Though his victory over the weasel, a far deadlier +fighter, made him confident he could dispatch it, there was another +aspect to the approaching struggle. It would have to be fought in +silence. Not four feet away, Hagendorff slept. There lay the +overwhelming danger. + +Even as these things flashed through his brain, the cat steadily +inched nearer on its padded paws. Ghostly starlight framed it now; +Garth could see the eager, quivering muscles, the long tail, flat +behind, twitching slightly, the rigid, unstirring head and the slowly +contracting paws. The terrible suspense of its stalking scraped his +nerves. There would be a long pause, then an almost imperceptible +hunching forward, with the tail ever twitching; then the same thing +again, and over again. It became unbearable. Garth deliberately +invited the attack. + +He pretended to turn and run, his back towards it. At once he sensed +its tensing body, its bunching muscles--then knew that it had sprung. + +Whirling, he had a fleeting impression of a supple body in midair, of +bristling claws and bared, needlepoint fangs. But he was ready. The +weasel had taught him his best weapon, the great weight of his body. +He streaked in beneath the wide-spread paws, shot his hands into the +fur of the throat and threw himself against the shock of the animal's +suddenly arrested leap. + +There was no standing his weight. Over the cat went, its back thudding +into the floor, its claws held powerless by the hundred and eighty +pounds of hard flesh that straddled it. + + * * * * * + +The fall had made little noise; but, as Garth tightened the grip of +his fingers and bored inward, a dull, steady thumping began to sound. +It was the cat's tail, pounding on the floor! + +Desperately he tried to hook a leg over it, but could not reach far +enough. It beat like a tom-tom. From above, there came the sound of a +huge frame stirring, and the rumble of a sleepy grunt. + +In a moment, the titan would be thoroughly awake. + +By the drumming tail alone, Garth realized, his chance of regaining +full size was sent glimmering. There was nothing but retreat, now, and +a hasty one, if he valued life. Another noise came from the waking +Hagendorff. He was sitting up, staring around. Garth jumped to his +feet, threw the cat's twitching body beneath the table, and dodged at +full speed for the hole whereby he had entered. + +Like a mouse he wriggled through, leaped to the ground, scrambled up +and made for the forest. He ran with all the speed at his command, and +was almost surprised when he reached the black fringe of the forest in +safety. In the protecting gloom, he dared to pause and look back. + +Hagendorff was not pursuing him. From the sound, he was merely +boarding shut the drain hole, to prevent another entrance in that way; +then, afterwards, the windows. + +Garth was puzzled. "I don't understand it," he said aloud. "Why is he +so sure he can get me in the morning? Isn't he afraid I'll leave the +island? Why I've _got_ to try to get away, now. It would be death to +be here after the dawn!" + +He stood there making his plans. They had a rowboat below, powered +with an outboard motor. Even in his present size, he might possibly +run it, if he could get it started. He would strike down-river for +Detroit, and when the gas gave out, the current would carry him on. +Some river boat might pick him up and carry him to friends in the +city. His grotesquely dwarfed body would prove his story, and they +would bring him back and end Hagendorff's mad dream of fame, and help +him to regain his normal size. He could superintend the construction +of another machine if the present one was wrecked. + +When he started down the trail to the river, he seemed to be walking +through a haze. He felt curiously light-headed, and his body was +completely numb. The long exposure was telling on him, and there was +much more of it to come. He wondered if he could hold out until he +reached the mainland. + +But his mind cleared of the daze the cold and near-exhaustion had +brought it to when at last he came to the beach and realized that +again Hagendorff had anticipated him. The rowboat was gone! No wonder +the giant could afford to wait until daylight. + + * * * * * + +Garth floundered down to the beach and ran to where the craft usually +lay. There was only a groove in the rough, pebbly surface, a groove +left by the boat's keel. He followed it up the bank, and twenty yards +in found the dinghy chained and locked firmly to a large tree. + +The midget's face grew suddenly very haggard as he stood there, +staring at what looked like his death sentence. He should have known +Hagendorff would secure the boat, he told himself bitterly. It was a +cruel blow, and sheer misery of mind and body gripped him as he turned +and peered through the darkness of wind-whipped water and sky toward a +horizon that was already lightening. Down-river lay Detroit, a +friendly, everyday world. It was not far in miles, but it seemed lost +to him forever.... + +Garth took his eyes from that prospect with a wry twist to his mouth. +It chanced that they fell on the painter of the rowboat. + +It was a stout Manila cord, some twenty feet in length, and tied +tightly to a ring in the bow of the boat. He looked at it dully for a +full minute before the idea came to him. Then suddenly the lethargy +bred of hopelessness left him. Garth remembered a pocket knife he had +left in the boat the day before. He climbed over the side and began to +fumble about in the darkness. First he came upon a torn handkerchief +which he hastily tied about his loins. Further probing disclosed the +knife wedged under a seat in the boat. When he had finally extricated +it, he threw the knife over the side and climbed out. + +After some minutes of frantic cutting and hacking he severed the rope, +and, quickly taking up one of the ends, ran with it further along the +bank. + +There was still a way of getting off the island. A cold and risky way, +but better than waiting miserably for capture. On the bank was a pile +of sawn logs, intended for firewood; and a strong rope was in his +hands. Much indeed could be done now. + + * * * * * + +The making of his raft proved a herculean task, a racking and almost +impossible one for a man limited by doll-sized hands and a foot-high +body. First the logs had to be rolled to the water's edge, six of +them. Each was as thick as he was tall, and this first part of his +task took him a precious half hour, every minute of which brought +nearer the dawn. Ripples like ordinary waves washed up the struggling +manikin and left him gasping as he stood braced in the cold water and +tugged one log after another out and wound the rope under and over it. +The raft had to be built in water; he would never have been able to +drag the whole thing off the beach. + +When at last he wearily tied the rope end to the last log, and stuck +his knife handy in it, the clouds on the horizon were flushed by the +coming sun. But his means of escape was completed; and hanging on the +end, he shoved the raft out into the river. Right then he almost lost +his life. For when his feet left the sloping bottom, his great weight, +out of all proportion to the size of his body, pulled him under, and +it was only by virtue of a desperate clutch on the raft that he +escaped drowning. Thrashing furiously, he struggled up from the water, +and lay, totally blown, on the logs. It was then he first realized +that his chance of life was no stronger than the rope which held them +together. For swimming was out of the question, and one or two logs +would never support his hundred and eighty pounds. + +The end which he lay on was well under water, and the waves splashed +up between the bobbing logs. The current he was headed for swept down +fifty yards offshore, which was a sixth of a mile to the little legs +now thrust out behind and making a rhythmic flutter. + +He was off the island! Freedom and life were near! Though his teeth +were chattering, his fingers crushed by the jarring logs, and his body +utterly wretched, he grinned with joy as the stretch between him and +the gloomy mass of the island slowly widened. + + * * * * * + +Then came the sun. The skies faded from gray into a delicate, +cloud-flecked blue; slowly the air warmed, and the surface of the +water seemed to calm under it. Though the sun was good on his body, +Garth realized night was more friendly to him, for in the growing +light his craft was all too conspicuous to the giant who would +presently be following his tracks down to the beach. He chided himself +for not having thought of camouflaging the raft with leafy branches. +Doggedly, he forced it out. + +When at last he felt the pull of the current, he ceased his weary +kicking and glanced up into the swiftly advancing dawn. There was a +bird soaring through the keen air up there, gliding in easy circles +with almost motionless wings. Garth gazed at it somewhat wistfully, +envying its freedom and power of flight. And then he shut his eyes. He +was very tired.... + +He must have dozed off for a moment, for he awoke to find himself +slipping off. With a sudden jerk he regained his position--and that +was what saved his life at that moment. For without warning, while he +was nodding, plumed death struck from the skies. + +It dropped like a plummet, as was its manner. It had been circling +above and judging its swoop, and by rights its curved talons should +have arched deep into the unguarded back of the naked figure on the +raft. But at the last second the figure moved aside--too late for the +hawk to alter its swoop. + +The raft rocked under the impact; for a moment Garth Howard, dazed by +the sudden attack, did not know what had happened. Huge scratching +wings were thrashing about him; his left arm stung from where a claw +had raked it; and he wrenched around to stare into two wicked slits of +eyes behind a fierce, rounded beak that jabbed at him. + + * * * * * + +Evidently he represented easy prey to the hawk, for it did not soar +away, but instead came at him again in a flurry of beating wings and +stabbing beak, a vicious, feathered fighter from above. Caught off +guard by the suddenness and savagery of the onslaught, Garth retreated +stumblingly, forgetting his weight and the size of the raft and +defending himself with his arms as best he could against the rushes of +the hawk. The raft tilted perilously; water washed around his legs and +he slipped and went under. + +He felt his fingers slipping inexorably over the edge of the log he +had gripped; his legs threshed up a welter of foam, but he kept going +down. Panic clutched him; his weight would sink him like a stone. But +suddenly his clutching hand was gripped by steel-like talons, and +through the water he caught a glimpse of the hawk straining backwards +with mighty sweeps of its wings in an effort to lift him bodily into +the air. + +His size had deceived it. It could not hoist him, but did manage to +drag his head and chest out of the water. That was enough. With an +effort, Garth scrambled onto the raft. + +The hawk, probably greatly surprised by its failure to soar away with +such tiny prey, tore into him again, raking his body painfully. Hardly +knowing what he did, Garth grabbed out as it hovered over him and +succeeded in wrapping his fingers around one of its legs. Then, +bracing himself as best he could, and ignoring the scratching wings +and piercing beak, he gave the leg a sharp twist and heard the crack +of breaking bone. + +He was only half-conscious of the hawk's shrill scream of pain, of +its swift retreat into the blue, with the broken leg dangling +grotesquely. For only a moment he was aware that he had driven it off; +then the pain of his wounds and his utter exhaustion swept up over +him, and he flopped down on the raft in a dead faint.... + + * * * * * + +For a long time Garth was dimly aware of familiar noises. At first +they were faint and scarcely perceptible; but, as his senses slowly +began to return, disturbing thoughts came to him. He felt that he was +on his back, and confined, and when he twisted, to turn over, he found +he could not. He opened his eyes and blinked. + +He was back in the laboratory--lying bound, hand and foot, on the long +table. + +The giant Hagendorff appeared over him, and his deep voice rumbled: + +"Badly scarred and bruised, my little friend! Cats you have fought, +and birds, and each has left its mark. It was useless to run away last +night--not?" + +Garth was suddenly too full of a weary resignation to even think of +speaking. Remonstrance, he knew, would avail him nothing. The long +struggle for freedom and life was over, and he had lost. + +The assistant was apparently in good humor. He went on: + +"Really, it is too bad, after that magnificent fight of yours! A +hawk--was it not? I was following your tracks, and had just reached +the beach when I see a great fuss on the water. A raft, I see! A bird, +attacking something on it! A little white figure, struggling! Well, it +is that easy. I unlock the boat and go to the raft and find my elusive +friend there, unconscious. So I bring him back here. He has forgotten: +we have an experiment to complete." + +There was a fire of exultation in the man's eyes as they glared down +at the midget who lay on the laboratory table, just a few feet away +from the chamber of the machine. He reached out and ran a thick finger +over his victim's body. + +"You do not deserve this," he said. "I should kill you outright--but, +graciously, I give you death in the machine. Yours will be the first +human body to be reduced to an inch; maybe less. This is your +martyrdom; for this, your name will live, along with mine, for having +perfected the process." + + * * * * * + +Garth Howard saw that the window was boarded tightly shut. Then +Hagendorff caught his eyes as, with a grin, he plunged a hand into a +pocket and drew forth the missing panel switch. He dangled it in front +of Garth. + +"What you would have given for this last night, eh? With your wire to +pull the lever so carefully arranged! _Ach_, it was too bad!" He +shrugged, then picked up a screwdriver and turned to fix the switch on +the control panel. + +The moment his back was turned, Garth gazed frantically around. The +fantastic fate he had striven so desperately to stave off was very +close now. What could he do? + +Some tools lay on the table, just out of his reach, among them a pair +of cutting pliers. He stared at the pliers--an overgrown tool, half as +long as his own body. The twist of Hagendorff's wrist driving home the +first screw brought a cold chill over him. The pliers! It was a +chance! + +He twisted a little, and keeping his eyes on the giant's back, he +inched toward them. His hands, tied at the wrists behind him, clutched +for them; found them. The jaws were open, and there were two sharp +cutting edges. He could not hope to manipulate the whole implement +with his bound hands, but he located one edge, painfully brought the +rope to it and sawed rapidly. + +The steel sliced his flesh, and he felt the warm stickiness of blood. +But he disregarded this and kept on. Hagendorff was still working, all +unconscious--but the last screw was going in. And then some strands of +the rope snapped, and it loosened. + +The next second, Garth had wrenched his hands free. + +Then, throwing caution to the winds, he sat up, grabbed the great tool +and sliced the rope at his feet. + +At that moment, Hagendorff finished his job and turned around. + + * * * * * + +Their eyes met. For a breathless instant nothing happened, save that +the smile on the titan's face changed to surprise and then fury. Garth +scrambled to his feet. The movement brought a bellow of rage, and the +manikin saw two enormous hands converging on him in a sweep that bade +fair to crush every bone in his dwarfed body. + +Leaping backwards instinctively, he hurled the pliers at the giant's +head. + +They were well aimed, and he saw them strike the temple, stopping the +man in his tracks. He thundered, more from anger than pain. His heart +pounding wildly, Garth ran back to a position behind a rack of test +tubes. It was from there that he saw Hagendorff, cursing crazily, grab +up a machinist's hammer and advance upon him. + +All sanity had apparently left the giant. His great face was flushed +and distorted, and a growing welt showed where the pliers had clipped +him. Garth suddenly knew that if he were captured again, death would +not come in the chamber, but from those powerful hands, or the weapon +they clutched. + +The hammer swung back for a crushing blow. But in the instant it hung +poised, Garth lifted a half-filled test tube from the rack before him +and swished its contents forward. + +The tube held sulphuric acid, and it sprayed over Hagendorff's face. +The hammer pitched from his hand; he clutched at his eyes and stumbled +back, shrieking in agony. + +Garth at once ran to the edge of the table, swung himself over and +slid down the leg to the floor. The laboratory door was open and he +dashed for it. But, whether or not Hagendorff could see his frantic +retreat, he anticipated it, and with a reeling plunge he got there +first. Fumbling, he found the key in the hole and turned it. The room +was sealed. + + * * * * * + +Beginning then, the blind Hagendorff was a man berserk. With a sobbing +roar of pain and fury, he lashed round for the foot-high figure that +dodged and wheeled and zig-zagged to keep from his threshing arms and +his hands. A table crashed over, and a flood of chemicals mixed and +boiled on the floor; then another, as the giant blundered blindly into +it. The cages of animals split open, and guinea pigs, rabbits and +insects scuttled from their prisons, fleeing to the corners from the +wild plunges of the raging German. + +Garth went reeling from a glancing blow, and fell against an +over-turned stool under a far table where he could hardly breathe for +the mixed odors of spilt chemicals. By some sixth sense, Hagendorff +seemed to locate him, for his huge body turned and came directly for +him. + +But Garth did not wait. Seizing the stool he whirled it so that it +slid smash into the giant's legs. The man pitched over with a grunt, +striking the floor so hard that the planks shivered. + +He did not rise. He lay there, in a wreckage of glass and splintered +wood and stinking chemicals, moaning slightly. + +Garth wasted no time, but gripped a leg of the laboratory table, +shinned to the top and with frantic speed fixed his strand of wire +onto the control lever and round the supporting posts of the +instrument panel. Then he jumped for the dynamo switch, caught the +handle and jerked it down. + +The drone of a generator surged through the room. Then the midget was +standing in the chamber, both ends of the wire in his hands; and his +heart was thudding madly as he pulled one of them. + +It held. Over came the lever, halfway. The brilliant stream of the ray +poured down. Dimly the manikin glimpsed the chamber's walls sinking +down, the wreckage-strewn room outside diminishing to normal size. +Fiery pain throbbed through him, but it was lost in the exultation +that filled his mind as the seconds went by. He grew to two feet, two +and a half--three. + + * * * * * + +But beyond that he was not to go. The swaying shape of Hagendorff +loomed outside the cube. Aroused by the drone of the generator and +what it signified, the giant had floundered up from the floor and now +came clutching blindly for him. + +Garth knew he would have to leave the chamber at once; so, struggling +for command of his muscles through the paralysis that numbed them, he +tensed his hold on the other wire and pulled it a little. The control +lever swung back to neutral; the ray faded and Garth jumped out. He +was only a few feet away from the huge convulsed face as the German +roared: + +"By God, you'll never get back on _this_ machine!" + +His purpose was plain; his groping hand had already found the control +lever. To prevent his ripping it out, Garth plunged head first into +Hagendorff's stomach, and they both went down in a flurry of arms and +legs. Garth, scrambling to get loose, was conscious of the ray pouring +down again in the chamber above. The lever had not been wrenched out, +but jerked over, setting the process of increase on. + +The next few minutes were a chaos. Now that Howard was three feet tall +he was without some of the advantages of his former smallness and +compactness, and his utmost efforts failed to free him from the death +clutch of the pain-maddened giant. Over and over they rolled on the +floor. Garth trying only to break free, and the other relentlessly +holding on and dragging him over to the chamber again. + +It was a losing fight for the diminutive one, weakened as he was by +his exposure and the fierce fights he had had. Little by little, +squirming and resisting with all his remaining strength, he was +brought near--to see the German, at last, pull half the reducing +apparatus with a crash to the floor. + +The ray in the chamber faded off. The machine was silenced forever, so +that Garth could never hope to regain his full size in this one.... + + * * * * * + +With the realization of this, most of his spirit went, while the +savage giant, successful in smashing the machinery, now turned and +devoted himself exclusively to his victim. + +"Now for you!" he roared in frightening triumph, clutching the smaller +man's neck with his great hands and bearing him to the floor. + +Against those fingers gouged into his wind-pipe like a vise of steel, +Garth could do nothing. Feebly he gagged, and feebly he clawed at the +pitiless hands--and futilely. + +It was the end, he told himself. He had come close, but closeness did +not count. His eyes bulged, and a shroud of black began to obscure his +vision. + +And then, suddenly, over the giant's flexed arms, he glimpsed, coming +from the chamber on the table, something that chilled the blood in his +veins with horror. + +It was huge and utterly loathsome. Long, hairy legs folded out, and +following them came a furry, bloated body at least five feet thick. +Many-faceted eyes fixed themselves coldly on the men on the floor. In +one hideous leap the monster soared from the table all the way to the +room's ceiling, seeming almost to float as it came down. For a moment +it teetered on the floor, not five feet from the giant who, blind and +all unconscious of it, was throttling his diminutive victim beneath +him. + +Garth for a second forgot the grip on his throat in the horror of the +monster. He knew at once what it was--a tarantula. It had crawled +inside the chamber when its cage was broken, had been there even while +he had been there, and had been swollen to its present blood-curdling +size while they were fighting and the ray was on. With the smashing of +the apparatus, it was free to come out. + + * * * * * + +It gathered for the final spring, its terrible legs tensing +perceptibly--a creature out of a nightmare. Garth Howard tried to +shriek out a warning, but Hagendorff was holding his throat too well. +He could only struggle weakly and nod toward the horror beyond; but +the message did not get across to the giant. + +Then the tarantula sprang again. + +For a moment it seemed to hover on Hagendorff's upturned back. When it +floated down, its ragged legs cradled over him, and the egg-shaped +body squatted on his back.... + +Garth felt his frayed nerves and senses going. A hairy leg was +touching him, chilling his flesh. Above him, the giant was thrashing +impotently, and he found his neck free of the awful grip. + +He wormed free. He was hardly conscious of reaching up and unlocking +the door, and closing it tightly again as he stumbled forth. Later, it +seemed that it was in a dream that he ran wildly into the splendid +sunlight outside and down the winding trail. It was only by a +tremendous effort that he kept his senses long enough to shove the +rowboat out from the beach and hop in. + +He never started the motor. All that he had seen and suffered on the +island of horror overcame him too soon, and he pitched down in a limp, +unconscious heap.... + + * * * * * + +And so it was, that, the next morning, the two harbor policemen found +a rowboat with mysterious cargo floating silently down the Detroit +River. So it was that some time later a launch with three local +officers churned up to the solitary island, and that gunshots echoed +in the gloom of a hushed laboratory room, and a man's white-faced body +was carried from the cabin where he had made his one great treacherous +effort to steal another's fame. + + +"JAZZING UP THE UNIVERSE" + + +Centuries of celestial history wheeled across the plaster sky of the +new Adler planetarium at Chicago, recently, at the dedication of the +astronomical institution, the first of its kind in the Western +Hemisphere. + +A modern Joshua, working the levers and switches of a complicated +instrument, commanded a miniature sun to stand still in the +heavens--and it did. He bettered the feat of the Biblical prophet by +stopping the sun at any given point on its orbit across the skies, and +then ran it backward, its attendant planets, planetoids and stars +scampering contrary to all rules of the universe. + +The Joshua in the person of Professor Philip Fox, director of the +planetarium on a "made" island in Lake Michigan described the +instrument with which he made the heavenly bodies cut capers, as a +projector, made in Germany at a cost of almost $100,000. As nearly as +it can be described by a layman it looks like three immense diving +helmets capping the ends of a tube about six feet long. Each "helmet" +is studded with lenses and inside are complicated and strange lights +and projectors which throw the images of the celestial bodies on the +white plaster dome above that represents the skies. The wheeling +motion of the universe toward the west is obtained by revolving the +"helmets" in eccentric circles on an axis. The whole effect makes a +spectator feel as if the solar system was revolving around him at a +greatly accentuated speed. + +As a beginning lesson for the layman who attended the opening, +Professor Fox set the machine to represent the latitude of Chicago on +May 10, 1930. Every one turned his eyes to the east, where a +silhouette of Lake Michigan, with its lighthouses and ore ships, is +painted on the plaster horizon. The dome was lighted to represent a +clear night, and, incidentally, all nights are clear in a planetarium. +The machine was started and up from the center of the Lake jumped +Mars, red against the darkness. + +Professor Fox, with a flashlight that throws the image of an arrow, +pointed out the stars as they appeared over the dome. The coming of +Mars forecast the dawn of May 10 and in a few moments the sun emerged +from the proper latitudinal position out of the lake and blazed its +way across the heavens and set behind the silhouette of the Standard +Oil Building on the west wall of the dome in less than a minute, +denoting that the day had passed in review. At 3:43 P. M. central +standard time, the midget moon arose and sailed its course and then +set behind the darkened picture of the Straus Tower. + +Then Professor Fox ran off Sunday, Monday and Tuesday for good +measure, each time with Mars heralding the dawn and the sun changing +position as it does in reality. Fifty centuries of astronomical +history can be run off in an hour by the machine. The planets are +visible during the day in the planetarium as well as night. + + + + +The Moon Weed + +_By Harl Vincent_ + +[Illustration: _Bart hacked and hacked at the rubbery growth._] + + +[Sidenote: Unwittingly the traitor of the Earth, Van pits himself +against the inexorably tightening web of plant-beasts he has released +from the moon.] + +Hobart Madison pursed his lips in a whistle of incredulous surprise as +he regarded the object that lay in the palm of his hand. An ordinary +pebble, it seemed to be, but a pebble in which a strange fire +smouldered and showed itself here and there through the dull surface. + +"Would you mind repeating what you just said, Van?" he asked. + +"You heard me the first time. I say that that's a diamond and that it +came from the moon." Carl Vanderventer glared at his friend in +resentment of his doubting tone. + +"Mean to tell me you've been there? To the moon?" + +"Certainly not. I'm not a Jules Verne adventurer. But I'm telling you +that stone is a diamond of the first water and that it came from the +moon. Weighs over a hundred carats, too. You can have it appraised +yourself if you think I'm kidding you." + +Bart Madison laughed. "Don't get sore, Van," he said. "I'm not +doubting your word. But Lord, man--the thing's so incredible! It takes +a little time to soak in. And you say there are more?" + +"Sure. This one's the largest of five I've found so far. And there's +other stuff, too. Wait till you see. Fossils, beetles and things. I +tell you, Bart, the moon was inhabited at one time. I've the evidence +and I want you to be the first to see it." The eyes of the young +scientist shone with excitement as he saw that his friend was roused +to intense interest. + +"So that's what all your experimenting has been aimed at. No wonder it +cost so much." + +"Yes, and you've been a brick for financing me. Never asked a +question, either. But Bart, it'll all come back to you now. Know how +much that stone's worth?" + +"Plenty, I guess. But, forget about the financing and all that. +Where's this laboratory of yours?" Madison had pushed his chair back +from his desk and was reaching for his hat. + +"Over in the Ramapo Mountains, not far from Tuxedo. I'll have you +there in two hours. Sure you can spare the time to go out there now?" +Vanderventer was enthusiastically eager. + +"Spare the time? You just try and keep me from going!" + +Neither of them noticed the sinister figure that lurked outside the +door which led into the adjoining office. They chattered excitedly as +they passed into the outer hall and made for the elevator. + + * * * * * + +Vanderventer's laboratory was a small domed structure set in a +clearing atop the mountain and well hidden from the winding road which +was the only means of approach. Though Bart Madison, who had inherited +his father's prosperous brokerage business, had financed his friend's +research work ever since the two left college, this was his first +visit to the secluded workshop, and its wealth of equipment was +revealed to him as a complete surprise. He had always thought of Van's +experiments as something beyond his ken; something uncanny and +mysterious. Now he was convinced. + +The most prominent single piece of apparatus in the laboratory was a +twelve-inch reflecting telescope which reared its latticed framework +to a slit in the dome overhead. Paralleling its axis and secured to +the same equatorial mounting was a shining tube of copper which +bristled with handwheels and levers and was connected by heavy +insulated cables to an amazing array of electrical machinery that +occupied an entire side of the single room. + +"Regular young observatory you've got here, Van," Bart commented when +he had taken all this in in one sweeping glance of appraisal. + +"Yeah, and then some. Not another like it in the world." Van was +busying himself with the controls of his electrical equipment, and a +powerful motor-generator started up with a click and a whirr as he +closed a starting switch. + +Madison watched in silence as the swift-fingered scientist fussed with +the complicated adjustments of the apparatus and then turned to the +massive concrete pedestal on which his telescope was mounted. At his +touch of a button the instrument swung over on its polar axis to a new +position. The slit in the dome was opened to the afternoon sky, +revealing the lunar disc in its daytime faintness. + +"You can see it just as well in daylight?" Bart asked as his friend +peered through the eyepiece of the telescope and continued his +adjustments. + +"Sure, the surface is just as bright as at night. Doesn't seem so to +your eye, but it's different through the telescope. Here, take a +look." + + * * * * * + +Bart squinted through the eyepiece and saw a huge crater with a +shadowed spire in its center. Like a shell hole in soft earth it +appeared--a great splash that had congealed immediately it was made. +The cross-hairs of the eyepiece were centered on a small circular +shadow near its inner rim. + +"That," Van was saying, "is a prominent crater near the Mare Nubium. +The spot under the cross-hairs is that from which I have obtained the +diamonds--and other things. Watch this now, Bart." + +The young broker straightened up and saw that his friend was removing +the cover from a crystal bowl that was attached to the lower end of +the copper tube that pointed to the heavens at the same ascension and +declination as the telescope. The air of the room vibrated to a +strange energy when he closed a switch that lighted a dozen vacuum +tubes in the apparatus that lined the wall. + +"You say you bring the stuff here with a light ray?" he asked. + +"No, I said with the speed of light. This tube projects a ray of +vibrations--like directional radio, you know--and this ray has a +component that disintegrates the object it strikes and brings it back +to us as dissociated protons and electrons which are reassembled in +the original form and structure in this crystal bowl. Watch." + +A misty brilliance filled the bowl's interior. Intangible shadowy +forms seemed to be taking shape within a swirling maze of ethereal +light that hummed and crackled with astounding vigor. Then, abruptly, +the apparatus was silent and the light gone, revealing an odd object +that had taken form in the bowl. + +"A starfish!" Bart gasped. + +"Yeah, and fossilized." Van handed it to him and he took it in his +fingers gingerly as if expecting it to burn them. + + * * * * * + +The thing was undoubtedly a starfish, and of light, spongy stone. Its +color was a pale blue and the ambulacral suckers were clearly +discernible on all five rays. + +"Lord! You're sure this is from the moon?" Bart turned the starfish +over in his hand and gazed stupidly at his friend. + +"Certainly, you nut. Think I had it up my sleeve? But here, watch +again, there's something else." + +The crackling, misty light again filled the bowl. + +"Suppose," Bart ventured, "you bring in something large--big as a +house, let's say. What would it do to your machine?" + +"Can't. The ray'll only pick up stuff that'll enter the bowl. +Look--here's the next arrival." + +The mysterious light died down and the scientist picked up the second +object with trembling fingers. It was a knife of beautiful +workmanship, fashioned from obsidian and obviously the work of human +hands. + +"There! Didn't I tell you?" Van gloated. "Guess that shows there were +living beings on the moon." + +He made minute changes in the adjustment of his marvelous instrument +and Bart watched in dazed astonishment as object after object +materialized before their eyes. There were fragments of strange +minerals; more fossils, marine life, mostly; a roughly beaten silver +plate; three diamonds, none of which was as large as what Van had +taken to New York, but all of considerable value. + +"This'll be something for the papers, Van!" Bart Madison was visioning +the fame that was to come to his friend. + +"Yeah, all but the diamonds." + + * * * * * + +"All but the diamonds is right!" + +These words were spoken by a sarcastic voice, chill as an icicle, that +came from the open door. They wheeled to look into the muzzles of two +automatic pistols that were trained on them by a stocky individual who +faced them with a twisted, knowing grin. + +"Danny Kelly!" Bart gasped, raising his hands slowly to the level of +his shoulders. He knew the ex-army captain was a dead shot with the +service pistol, and a desperate man since his disgrace and forced +resignation. "What's the big idea?" he demanded. + +"You don't need to ask. Refused me a loan this morning, didn't you? +Now I'm getting it this way." Kelly turned savagely on Van, prodding +his ribs with a pistol. "Get 'em up, you!" he snapped. + +Van had been slow in raising his hands, gaping in stupefied amazement +at the intruder. Now he reached for the ceiling without delay. + +"You'll serve time for this, Danny!" Bart shouted. + +"Shut up! I know what I'm doing. And back up, too--where--no, the +other door." Kelly was forcing him toward the door of the cellar at +the point of one pistol as he kept Van covered with the other. + +Bart clenched his fist and brought it down in a sudden sweeping blow +that raked Kelly's cheek and ear with stunning force. But the gunman +recovered in a flash, dropped the muzzle of his pistol and pulled the +trigger. Drilled through the thigh, Bart staggered through the open +door and fell the length of the stairs into the darkness of the +cellar. Kelly laughed evilly as he slammed the door and turned the +key. + +"Hold it, you!" he snarled as he swung on Van who had dropped his +hands and crouched for a spring. "If I drill you, it won't be through +the leg. I'll take those diamonds now." + + * * * * * + +He pocketed one of his pistols, and, keeping the other pressed to the +pit of Van's stomach, went through his pockets. Then he added those on +the tray by the crystal bowl to the collection, and transferred the +entire lot to his own pocket. + +"Now, you clever engineer," he grinned, "we'll just operate this trick +machine of yours for a while and collect some more. Hop to it!" He +watched narrowly as Van stretched his fingers to the controls. "No +monkey business, either," he grated; "you'll not change a single +adjustment. I've been listening to you and I know the clock of the +telescope is keeping the ray trained on the same spot. You just +operate the ray and nothing else. Get me?" + +Van did not think it expedient to tell him of the drift caused by +inaccuracies in the clock and perturbations of the moon's motion. He +was playing for time, trying to plan a course of action. + +"There may not be any more diamonds," he offered as he tripped the +release of the ray. + +"Oh, there'll be more. Don't try to kid me." + +An irregular block of quartz materialized in the bowl and Kelly tossed +it to the floor in savage disgust. Then a small diamond, very small; +but he pocketed it nevertheless. The next object was a strange one--a +dried seed pod about six inches in length and of brilliant red color. +The ray had shifted to a new position on the lunar surface. Another +and another of the strange legumes followed, one of them bursting open +and scattering its contents, bright red like the enclosing pod to +rattle over the floor like tiny glass beads. Kelly snorted his +disgust. + +"Still some sort of vegetation out there," Van muttered. The eternal +scientist in the man could not be downed by a mere hold-up. + +"Can the chatter!" Kelly snarled as the crystal bowl gave up another +of the useless pods and still another. He gathered up the evidence of +lunar vegetation, a half dozen of the pods, and threw them through the +open doorway with a savage gesture. "You trying to put one over on +me?" he bellowed. + +"How can I?" Van retorted mildly. "I haven't touched a handwheel." He +was wondering vaguely whether this lunar seed would grow in earthly +soil; what sort of a plant it would produce under the new environment. + +Kelly was becoming nervous now. It seemed that little was to be gained +by hanging around this crazy man's laboratory. He had a sizable +fortune in rough stones already. That big one alone, when properly cut +into smaller stones, would make him independent. Maybe there weren't +any more, anyway. And the longer he stayed the greater chance there +was of getting caught. + +The advent of another of the pods decided him. A quick blow with the +butt of his pistol stretched Van on the floor and Kelly fled the +scene. + + * * * * * + +Bart was pounding furiously on the cellar door when Van first took +hazy note of his surroundings. Several uncertain minutes passed before +he was able to stagger across the room and release his friend. + +"Where is he?" Bart demanded, swaying on his feet and blinking in the +sudden light. + +"Gone. Socked me and beat it with the diamonds." Van was mopping the +blood from his eyes with a handkerchief. "Are you hit bad?" he +inquired. + +"No, just a flesh wound. Hurts like the devil, though. How about +yourself?" Bart limped to his side and sighed with relief when he +examined his bleeding scalp. "Not so bad yourself, old man. Where's +your first aid kit?" + +Van was still somewhat dazed and merely pointed to the cabinet. "Fine +pair we turned out to be!" he grumbled after his head had cleared a +bit under Bart's vigorous cleansing of the cut on his temple. "Here we +stood, meek as a couple of lambs, and let that guy get away with +murder." + +"Yeah, but those forty-fives made the difference. Ouch!" Bart winced +as his friend poured fresh iodine over the wound in his leg. "Have a +heart, will you?" + +They were startled into silence by a hoarse, strangled scream that +came from outside the laboratory. "Help! Help!" someone repeated in a +panicky voice--a voice which at once ended on a gurgled note of +despair. + +"It's Kelly!" Bart whispered. "He's come back. Something's happened to +him." He started for the open door. + +"Wait a minute. It may be a trick to get us outside where he can pop +us off." + +"No, it isn't. For God's sake, look!" Bart had reached the door and +was pointing at the ground with shaking forefinger. + + * * * * * + +The entire clearing seemed to be alive with wriggling things--long +rubbery tentacles that crawled along the ground, reaching curling ends +high in the air and had even started climbing the trees at the edge of +the clearing. Blood red they were, and partially transparent in the +light of the setting sun; growing things, attached by their thick ends +to swelling mounds of red that seemed anchored to the ground. +Translucent stalks rose from the mounds and sprouted huge buds that +burst and blossomed into flaming flowers a foot in diameter, then +withered and went to seed in a moment of time. But always the weaving +tendrils shot forth with lightning speed, reaching and feeling their +uncanny way along the ground and over tree stumps into the woods. One +of them emerged from a hollow stump with its slender end coiled around +the tiny body of a chattering gray squirrel. + +"The moon flowers!" Van cried. + +"What do you mean--moon flowers?" + +"Dried seed pods. They came over into the bowl, and Kelly threw them +out. Now look at the damned things. They're alive!" + +Kelly's voice came to them once more from behind the barrier of +rapidly growing vegetation. "Help!" he screeched. "I'll give back the +diamonds--anything! Only get me away from the things!" + +"Ought to let 'em get him," Van growled. + +Bart shivered. "Too horrible, Van. Got an ax or anything?" + +"There's a hatchet around back. Maybe we can--" + + * * * * * + +But the young broker had scuttled around the corner of the building +and Van looked after him anxiously. The vile red tendrils were +reaching for the east wall of the laboratory, and he saw that their +inner surfaces were covered with tiny suckers like those on the arms +of a devil-fish. Carnivorous plants, undoubtedly, these awful +half-animal, half-vegetable things whose seed had been transported +across a quarter million miles of space. Man eaters! Deadly, and +growing with incredible speed. Even the short-lived flowers were +fearsome, as they opened their scarlet pansy-like faces and stared a +moment before they folded up and shriveled into the seed cases like +those that had materialized in the crystal bowl. + +Then he noticed that the pods were opening and spreading more of the +terrible seed. Nothing could stop this weird growth, now. It would +cover the country like a sea of flaming horror, overcoming and +devouring every living thing. Cold fear clutched at Van as he realized +the enormity of the calamity that had come to the earth. + +Bart was skirting the edge of the clearing with the hatchet in his +hand, and Van tried to call out to him, to warn him. But his voice +caught in his throat, and instead he ran to his assistance, circling +the spreading menace to get around behind where Kelly was still +shouting. Damn Kelly anyway! This never would have happened if he +hadn't come on the scene! + +Kelly was in the woods, wedged into the crotch of a tree and striking +wildly at the clutching tendrils with his clubbed pistol. They mashed +easily and dripping red, but were not to be deterred from their +ghastly purpose. Kelly's time would have indeed been short had not his +erstwhile victims come to the rescue. One of the thickest of the +twining things encircled his body and had him pinned to the tree. His +breath was coming in gasps as its tightening coils increased their +pressure. His coarse features were livid and his eyes bulged from +their sockets. + +Bart hacked and hacked at the rubbery growth until he had him free; +jerked him from his perch, blubbering and whining like a schoolboy. +His shirt had been torn from his breast and they saw a great red welt +where the blood had been drawn through the pores by those terrible +suckers. + +"Look out, Bart!" Van shouted. + + * * * * * + +Another of the creeping things had come through the underbrush and was +wrapping its coils around Bart's ankle. Another and another wriggled +through, and soon they were battling for their own freedom. Kelly +staggered off into the woods and went crashing down the hill, leaving +them to take care of themselves as best they might. + +The stench of the viscous liquid that oozed from the injured tendrils +was nauseous; it had something of a soporific effect; and the two +friends found themselves fighting the terror in a growing mist of red +that blinded and confused them. Then, miraculously, they were free and +Van assisted Bart as they ran through the forest. When they reached +the road, weak and out of breath, they were just in time to see +Kelly's roadster vanish around the bend. + +"Yeah, he'd give back the diamonds--the swine!" Van muttered +vindictively. Then, shrugging his shoulders, "Well, they won't be much +good to him, anyway. Wouldn't be any good to us either, as far as that +goes." + +"What do you mean? Aren't they real?" Bart was raising himself +painfully into the seat of Van's car, his wounded leg suddenly very +much in the way. + +"Sure they're real. But don't you realize what this thing means--this +ungodly growth that's started?" + +"Why--why, no. You mean it'll keep on growing?" + +"And how! Those inner stalks drop a new batch of seeds every five +minutes or so. Presto!--a flock of new plants spring up ten feet from +the first; dozens of them for every pod that drops. You know how +geometrical progression works out. They'll cover the whole +country--the whole world. Lord!" + +"Man alive, this is terrible! I hadn't thought of that before. What'll +we do?" + +"Yeah, that's the question: what can we do?" Van started his motor and +jerked the car to the road. "First off, we're going to get away from +here--fast!" + +Bart gripped his arm as he shifted into second gear. "Look, Van!" he +babbled. "They're out of the woods already. Loose! The red snakes are +loose from their stalks. They're alive, I tell you!" + +It was true. Several of the slimy red things were wriggling their way +over the macadam like great earthworms, but moving with the speed of +hurrying pedestrians. Free, and untrammeled by the roots and stems of +the mother plants, they had set forth on their own in the search for +beings of flesh and blood to destroy. Millions of their kind would +follow; billions! + +In sudden panic Van stepped on the gas. + + * * * * * + +Fifteen minutes later, with shrieking siren, a motorcycle drew +alongside and forced them to the curb. "Where's the fire?" the +sarcastic voice of a stern-visaged officer demanded, when Van had +brought his car to a screeching stop. Seventy-five, the speedometer +had read but a moment before. + +"It's life and death, officer," Van started to explain. "We must get +to the proper officials to warn the--" + +"Aw, tell it to the judge! Come on now, follow me." + +"But officer, there's death on its way from the hills, I tell you. +Red, creeping things that'll be here in a couple of hours--" + +"Get away, from that wheel. I'll drive you in meself. You're fulla +applejack." + +Bart had opened the door on his side and was limping his way around +the back of the car. This was serious. They had to get away; had to +spread the word in a way that would be believed before it was too +late. The officer was tugging at Van's arm, astonishment and black +rage showing in his weather-beaten countenance. Speeding, drunk, +resisting an officer--they'd never get out of this mess! A swift +uppercut interrupted the proceedings. Bart's leg was numb and stiff, +but his good right arm was working smoothly and with all its old time +precision. His second punch was a haymaker. With his full weight +behind it, it drove straight to the chin and stretched the officer on +the concrete. Thoughtfully, Bart removed his pistol from its holster +before scrambling in at Van's side. + +"Boy, now we're in for it!" he gasped. + +"And we might as well make a good job while we're at it." Van let in +his clutch with a jerk, and again they were breaking all traffic +regulations. + + * * * * * + +It was dusk when they roared in through the gate at the Rockland +County Airport and pulled up at the hangar office. Van rushed in, +shouting for Bill Petersen, and Bart followed. A slender, fair-haired +youth in rumpled flying togs greeted them. + +"Bill, my friend, Bart Madison," Van blurted without pausing for +breath. "Listen, we've got to have a plane right away. Got one with a +radio?" + +"Yes, but what's all the rush? Where you going?" + +"Albany. Right away. Make it snappy, will you?" + +"Sure, but what's it all about?" Young Petersen was leading them to +the field where a sleek mono-plane was in waiting as if they had +ordered it. "Warm her up, Joe," he called to the mechanic. + +"Listen, Bill--I never lied to you, did I?" Van asked, when they were +seated in the plane's cabin. + +"Not that I know of. But sometimes I've thought you were lying, until +I saw with my own eyes the things you had told me about. What is it +this time?" + +"Death and destruction. Coming down out of the Ramapos. We've got to +warn the country. Plants, Bill--squirmy red plants with long feelers +that can twist around a man and devour him. Half animal, they are, and +the feelers break loose and crawl by themselves. Multiplying like +nothing you ever saw. Millions of them in an hour." + +"What?" Petersen stared incredulously as his motor roared into life. +Then he gave his attention to the business of taking off. He jerked +the thumb of his free hand toward the radio. + + * * * * * + +Van's expert fingers manipulated the switches and dials of the +portable apparatus, and its vacuum tubes glowed into life. "2BXX +calling 2TIM," he droned into the microphone. + +"Who's that?" Bart asked. The drone of the motor was barely audible in +the closed cabin and did not interfere. + +"The _Times_. Trying to get Johnny Forbes. If anyone can get this +thing across, he can. Wait a minute, here they are." He closed his +eyes as he listened to the murmuring voice in the headphones. + +Then he was talking rapidly, forcefully, and the young flyer gazed +with owlish solemnity at Bart as they listened to his conversation. It +was plain that Bill was but half inclined to believe, though impressed +by the earnestness and evident apprehension displayed by his two +passengers. + +"Yes, 2BXX," Van was saying. "Connect me with Johnny Forbes, +please--in a hurry. Yes.... Hello, Johnny, it's Van--Carl +Vanderventer, you know. Yes; got a scoop for you, but first I want you +to get it in the broadcasts. Get me? It's about a man-eating plant +that's starting to overrun the country. No--listen now, I'm not +dreaming--listen--" + +The frantic scientist rambled on and on about the seed from the moon, +the red death that was creeping down from the mountains, the horror of +the calamity as he and Bart had visioned it. Then, with a sudden note +of despair, his voice trailed off into nothingness and he turned a +drawn white face to his two friends. + +"Laughed at me. Hung up on me," he groaned. "Good God! We've got to do +something--quick!" + +"Be in Albany in an hour," the pilot suggested. "What you going to do +there?" He believed, now. His expression of horror showed it. + +"See the governor. But, man, it's an hour wasted! We must stir up the +country--get the word to Washington--everywhere. It might be possible +to fight the things some way if we can mobilize State and National +resources quickly enough. Bill, Bart, what can we do?" + + * * * * * + +The plane sped on through the night under control of her gyro-pilot as +the three men racked their brains for a solution of the problem. If a +hard-boiled newspaper man would not believe the story, who could? + +"I've got it!" Bart shouted suddenly. "Can either of you pound a +key--code, I mean?" + +"Sure, I can. Then what?" Petersen returned. + +"Fake an S. O. S. Don't you see? All broadcasting has to stop, and +every ship at sea, every air liner in this part of the country'll be +listening--standing by. Give 'em the story in code. Let 'em think +we're in a ship from the moon--captured by Lunarians who are here to +destroy the world with this weed of theirs--anything. Make it as weird +as possible. Most everyone'll think it's a hoax, but there are ten +thousand kids--amateurs--who'll be listening in. Somebody'll believe +it, and, believe me, there'll be some investigating in the +neighborhood of the growth in no time." + +"By George, I believe that'll do it!" Van exclaimed. "And the +broadcasters listen in for an S. O. S. themselves. Got to, you know, +so they know when to start up again. Some smart announcer will tell +the story--maybe even believe it. The trick will work, sure as +shooting!" + + * * * * * + +The pilot glanced at his instruments and saw that the automatic +gyro-apparatus was functioning properly. Then he moved over to the +radio and threw the switch that put the key in circuit instead of the +microphone. Rapidly he ticked off the three dots, three dashes, and +again three dots that spelled the dread danger signal of the air. Over +and over he repeated the signal, and then he listened for results. + +"It worked!" he gloated, after a moment. "They're all signing off--the +broadcasters. The Navy Yard in Brooklyn gives me the go-ahead." + +He pounded out the absurd message with swift fingers, pausing +occasionally to ask a pertinent question of Van or Bart. At Van's +request he added a warning to all residents of New York State west of +the Hudson River and of northern New Jersey to flee their homes +without delay. He even asked that the message be relayed to the +governors of the two states, and that Governor Perkins of New York be +advised that they were on their way to Albany to discuss the +situation. But he balked at the story of the Lunarians, telling +instead the equally strange truth regarding the origin of the deadly +growth, and adding the names of Van and Bart to lend authenticity to +the tale. + +Then he signed off and switched the radio receiver to the loud speaker +before returning to the pilot's seat. + +Bart tuned in on the various broadcasters as they resumed their +programs, finally settling on WOR, Newark, whose announcer was +reading the strange message to his radio public with appropriate +comment. A crime and an outrage he called it, an affront to the +industry and to the public. An insult to the government of the United +States. But wait! A telephone call had just been received at the +station from the village of Sloatesburg. A reputable citizen of that +town had reported the red growth at the edge of the State road--huge +red earthworms wriggling across the concrete. Another call, and +another! The announcer's voice was rising hysterically. + +"It _did_ work, Bart," Van exulted. "Now the hell starts popping." + + * * * * * + +Governor Perkins met them in person when they arrived at the Municipal +Airport in Albany. A great crowd had gathered in the shadows outside +the brilliance of the flood lights, and a police escort rushed them to +the governor's private car. + +"Here's where you go to the Bastille for socking that cop," Van +observed. His spirits had risen appreciably since that successful S. +O. S. call. + +But the governor was in a serious mood, as they made their way toward +the executive mansion through the milling crowds that lined the hilly +streets of the capital city of New York State. Proofs had not been +lacking of the truth of Bill Petersen's radio warning. Already the +spreading red death had covered a circle some eight miles in diameter, +covering farm lands and destroying the crops, blocking the roads and +trapping many on the streets and in their homes in nearby towns. More +than a hundred had lost their lives, and thousands were fleeing the +threatened area. The country was in an uproar. + +"Gentlemen," the governor said, when they had reached the privacy of +his chambers, "this is a serious matter, and no time must be lost in +dealing with it. Nevertheless, I want you, Mr. Vanderventer, to tell +your story of the thing to me and to the radio system of the United +States Secret Service. The President himself will be listening, as +will the chief executives of most of the states. Hold nothing back, as +the fate of our people is at stake." + + * * * * * + +So Van faced the microphone and related the history of his work in the +little laboratory in the Ramapo Mountains. He told of his interest in +the earth's satellite, and of his first unsuccessful experiments with +ultra-telescopes in the endeavor to explore its surface close at hand; +of the failure of a space-ship he had built; of the final discovery of +the ray, by means of which it was possible to transport solid objects +from the one body to the other. He told of the discovery of man-made +relics and of fossils; he told of the diamonds, and of the attack by +Dan Kelly which had resulted in the spreading of the seed of the +deadly moon weed. He even related the incident of the traffic +policeman, at which the governor smiled. + +"That has been reported," he said, "and you need have no fear on that +score.--The charges will be dropped. I now ask that you give us your +opinion as to the best method of combatting this new enemy. Have you +any ideas?" + +"I have not, sir," Van replied gloomily, "though I believe it can be +done only from the air. Possibly bombing, or a gas of some sort--I +don't know. It will take time, Mr. Governor." + +"Yes, and meanwhile the thing is overwhelming us at what rate?" + +"As nearly as I can estimate it, the growth is moving with a speed of +four or five miles an hour." + +"By morning you expect it will have traveled forty or fifty miles in +all directions?" + +"I'm afraid so." + +A sharp buzz from the instrument on the governor's desk interrupted +them. "The President," he whispered. + +"That is enough, Governor," came the husky tones of President Alford's +voice. "I shall communicate with Secretary Makely at once. All +available army bombing-planes will be rushed to the scene. You, sir, +will mobilize the militia, as will the governors of the other states. +Meanwhile, this young scientist is to report to the Bureau of +Scientific Research in Washington--to-night. Have him bring a supply +of these seeds with him." + +That was all. Governor Perkins offered no comment, but merely rose +from his seat to indicate that the discussion was ended. A solemn +silence reigned in the room. + +"Let's go!" exclaimed Bill Petersen suddenly, unawed by the presence +of the governor. "My ship's waiting, and we can stop off for a couple +of those pods and still make Washington in two hours. Come on!" + +Governor Perkins smiled. "Good luck, boys," he said, as they were +ushered from the room. "My car will return you to the airport. And +remember, the country will be watching you now, and expecting much +from you. Good-by." + +They were to recall his words in the dark days ahead. + + * * * * * + +Before they had reached Newburgh, they saw a dull red glow in the +skies that told them the news broadcast to which they had been +listening had not exaggerated. The red growth was luminous in +darkness. Off there to the south-west, it was as if a vast forest fire +were lighting the heavens. No wonder the panics and rioting were +getting out of control of the police! + +Coming up over Bear Mountain, they caught their first glimpse of the +sea of fire that was the red death by night. Like a vast bed of +glowing embers it covered the countryside, extending eastward to +Haverstraw where it was temporarily halted by the broad Hudson. It was +a shimmering, undulating mass of living, luminous things, eating their +horrible way through all organic matter that stood in their path. +Writhing, squirming, all-absorbing monsters that sent out an advance +guard of independent snake-like tendrils to capture and hold for the +lagging mother-plants whatever of live stock and humanity they were +able to find. + +"Think they'll get over the river, Van?" Bart asked. + +"Sure they will. Every fugitive who had a narrow escape after being in +contact with the things is a potential carrier of the seed. I found +several of them sticking to my clothing after we got away. I picked a +couple off your coat, but didn't tell you." + +"Lord! What did you do with them?" + +"Put them in the ash receiver in my car--like a fool. Wouldn't have to +go down for more if I'd kept them." + +"Well, it can't be helped now. We'll have a job getting some down +there now, too." + +"I'll say so." Van lapsed into gloomy silence. + + * * * * * + +They were over the landing field above Tomkins Cove, and Bill turned +on the siren whose raucous shriek operated the mechanism of the +floodlight switches by sound vibrations. The field sprang into instant +illumination, and they circled it once before swooping to a landing. +They were but a mile from the advancing terror. + +The field was deserted, and the three men started off immediately in +the direction of the oncoming weed. + +"We'll have to make it snappy," Van grunted. "We've got about twelve +minutes to get the pods and get back to the ship. The damn things'll +be here by that time." + +They scrambled over fences and pushed through thickets. The lighted +windows of a deserted farmhouse were directly ahead, and they ran +through the open gate and across the fields. Ever, the glow of the +weed grew brighter. A terrified horse galloped wildly past them and +crashed into the fence, whinnying piteously as it went down with a +broken leg. They could see the red rim of the advancing horror just +beyond the road. + +One of the detached tendrils slithered past, each glowing coil +distinctly visible. + +"Lucky the things can't see!" Bart shuddered. + +"Yeah," said Van. "Have to dodge 'em to get in close enough to one of +the plants. Keep your eyes peeled now, you fellows, in case one of us +gets caught." + +A terrific explosion rocked the ground. They had paid no heed to the +roaring of motors overhead. The bombers were on the job! Shooting +skyward, a column of flame not a hundred yards from them showed where +the high explosive had landed in the red mass. Then, slimy wriggling +things rained all about them, fragments of the red weed that still +squirmed and crawled and clung. Bill Petersen yelled and clutched at +his neck where one of the things had taken hold. + +Another warning whistle of a falling bomb. Crash! More of the horror +raining down and splattering as it fell. Whistle--crash! A huge blob +of quivering, luminous jelly fell before them--a portion of one of the +mother-plants. Crash! Crash! + +"Run!" Van shouted. "Run for the plane. We'll never make it now. Damn +those bombers, anyway!" + +All along the advancing front, the bombs were bursting, shattering the +air with their detonations and scattering the glowing red stems and +tendrils in all directions. The din was appalling, and the increasing +brightness of the crimson glow added to the horror of the situation. +Stumbling and cursing, they ran for the plane. + +"Fools! Fools!" Bill was shouting. "Can't they see the field and the +plane? Why in the devil are they dropping them so near?" + + * * * * * + +Then Bart was down, clawing at a three-foot length of red tendril that +had fallen on him and borne him to the earth. + +"Bart! Bart!" Van turned back and was tearing at the thing with +fingers that were slippery with the sap that oozed from its torn skin. +Monstrous earthworms! Cut them apart and each portion lived on, took +on new vigor. And these vile things could sting like a jellyfish! +Where each sucker touched the skin a burning sore remained. + +Bill helped them break away from the thing, and all three fought on +toward the lights of the landing field. Only a short way off now; it +seemed they would never reach it. The bombers were dropping their +missiles with unceasing regularity, and the red death only spread the +faster. + +When they scrambled into the cabin of the plane, the red wall of +creeping horror was almost upon them. Advancing speedily out from the +red-lit darkness, it seemed to halt momentarily, when it emerged into +the brilliance of the great arc-lights which illuminated the field. +Then, more slowly and with seemingly purposeful deliberation, the +wriggling feelers reached out from the mass and bore down upon them. +Bill slammed the door and latched it, then fumbled frantically with +the starter switch. A most welcome sound was the answering roar of +the motor. + +The pilot yanked his ship into the air, taking off with the wind +rather than running the risk of remaining on the ground long enough to +taxi around and head into it. The plane acted like a frightened bird +as Bill struggled with the controls, darting this way and that, and +once missing a crash by inches as the tail was lifted by the +treacherous ground wind. Then they were clear, and slowly gained +altitude in a steep climb. + +"Whew!" Van exclaimed, mopping his red-splattered forehead with his +handkerchief. "That was a narrow squeak, boys. And we haven't got the +seeds yet--unless we can find a few on our clothing." + +"Who said so?" Bart gloated. "Look at this." + +He opened his clenched fist and disclosed one of the pods, unbroken +and gleaming horribly scarlet in the dim light of the cabin. Bill +heaved a sigh of relief as he banked the ship and swung around toward +the south. He had dreaded another landing near the sea of moon weed. +Van chortled over their good fortune as he examined the mysterious +pod. One good thing the bombers had done, anyway! Blew one of the +things into his friend's hands. + + * * * * * + +Bart and the young pilot found themselves very much out of the picture +when they reported with Van at the Research Building in Washington. +The Government had no use for them in this emergency: it was the +scientist they wanted, and he was immediately rushed into conference +with the heads of the Bureau. His two friends were left to shift for +themselves, and they joined the crowds in the street. + +The name of Carl Vanderventer was on everyone's tongue. Cursing and +reviling him, they were, for the hare-brained experiment which had +been the cause of the terrible disaster. Fools! Bart seethed with rage +and nearly came to blows with a number of vociferous agitators who +were advocating a necktie-party. Why hadn't the officials published +the entire story as Van told it over the Secret Service radio? There +was no mention of Dan Kelly in the broadcast news, nor of the fact +that the police were searching for him in every city and town in the +country. Another instance of the results of secrecy in governmental +activities! + +"We'd better find ourselves a room and turn in," Bart growled. "Let's +get out of this mob before I slam somebody." + +Bill Petersen was only too willing. He was suddenly very tired. + +In the Willard Hotel they were assigned to an excellent room, and Bart +insisted on switching on the broadcasts and listening to the news. Far +into the night he sat by the loud-speaker, or paced the floor as an +exceptionally calamitous happening was reported. But Bill slept +through it all. + +The army bombers had been recalled. Their efforts had worked more harm +than good. The invincible moon weed now had crossed the Hudson River +at Nyack and Piermont. Tarrytown was overrun, and many of the +inhabitants had lost their lives either in the maws of the insatiable +monsters or in the panics and rioting that accompanied the evacuation +of the town. + + * * * * * + +New Jersey was covered as far south as New Brunswick, and west to +Phillipsburg and Belvidere. At Mauch Chunk the contents of twenty oil +tanks had been diverted to the Delaware River, and the floating oil +film was proving at least a temporary protection to a considerable +portion of the state of Pennsylvania. In New York State the growth +had buried hill and valley, town and village, as far as Monticello, +and, along the Hudson, extended as far north as Kingston. At +Poughkeepsie, on the opposite side of the river, frantic householders +had armed themselves with rifles and shotguns, and were killing off +all refugees who attempted to land from boats at that point. But the +militia was on guard at the bridges, assuring safe crossing to the +thousands who fled the red death over these routes. There was no +keeping the seed of the moon weed from finding its way east. + +At some points fire had been used with considerable success as a +barrier, hundreds of acres of forest lands being destroyed in the +endeavor to stem the crimson tide. But, after the ashes were cool, +germination would recur, and the weed would continue on its triumphant +way. Acid sprays and poison-gas of various kinds had been tried +without appreciable effect. The casualty estimates already ran into +the tens of thousands; rumor had it that nearly one hundred thousand +had lost their lives in the city of Newark alone. There was no way in +which the figures could be checked while everything was in a state of +confusion. + +Communication lines were broken, roads blocked, gas and electric +supply systems paralyzed and the railroads helpless. Trains could not +be driven through the glutinous, wriggling mass that piled high on the +tracks. Only the radio and the air lines were operative in the +stricken area, and even these were of little value to the unfortunates +who, in many cases, were surrounded and cut off from all hope of +succor. + +At four in the morning, with aching heart and reeling brain, Bart +threw himself on the bed without undressing and fell into the troubled +sleep of exhaustion and despair. + + * * * * * + +The next day brought no encouragement, though it was reported that the +growth developed with less rapidity after sunrise than it had during +the night. Bart endeavored to get Van on the telephone, but was curtly +informed by the operator at the Research Building that no incoming +calls could be transferred to the laboratory where he was working. +Knowing his friend, he pictured him as working feverishly with the +Government engineers and giving no thought to sleep or food. He'd kill +himself, sure! But such a death, even, was preferable to the red one +of the moon weed. + +The Canadians and Mexicans had been quick to protect their borders and +forbid the landing of any American aircraft or the passage of trains +and automobiles. But the seed had reached Europe, one of the +twelve-hour night air-liners having carried a thousand refugees who +had sufficient foresight and the means to engage passage. It was a +world catastrophe they faced! + +By mid-afternoon the streets of Washington were almost deserted. It +was less than twenty-four hours since the first moon seed took root, +and already the crimson growth had progressed nearly a hundred miles +southward from the point of origin! Another twenty or thirty hours and +it would reach the capital city--unless Van and those engineers over +in the Research Building discovered something; a miracle. + +Bart tried the telephone once more and was overjoyed when the +operator, all apologies now, informed him that Van had been trying to +reach him for several hours. + +"Listen, old man," his friend's voice came over the wire: "I've been +worried as the devil not knowing where you were. I want you and Bill +to stick around where I can get you at any time. I may need you. Where +are you staying?" + +"The Willard. Have you doped out something?" Bart answered in quick +excitement. + +"Maybe. Can't let anything out yet--not till we've tested it +thoroughly. But I can tell you that a hundred factories are already +working on machines we've devised. By good luck it only means minor +changes to an apparatus that is on the market in large quantity." + +"Great stuff. The city's nearly emptied itself, you know, and, boy, +how they've been razzing you over the radio and in the papers--howling +for your hide, the whole country." + +"I know." Van's voice was calm, but Bart sensed in it something of a +cold fury that was new to him in his friend. The young scientist was +bitterly resentful of the attitude of the public. + +"Can we see you, Van?" + +"No, nor call me either. Better hang around the hotel and wait for a +call from me. So long now, Bart. I've got to get busy." + +"So long." + +Bart gazed solemnly at Bill Petersen, who had been listening +abstractedly to the one-sided conversation. Bill had given up hope and +was resigned to the inevitable. + +"Says he may need us, Bill," said Bart. + +"Yeah? Well, we'll be ready for anything he wants us to do. It's no +use though--anything." + +"What do you mean--no use? You never saw Van licked yet, did you?" + +"Sure I did. By his super-telescopes and the rocket ship." + +"But this is different." Bart was a staunch defender of his friend. He +glared at Bill for a moment and then switched on the news broadcast +which he knew he detested. + + * * * * * + +The progress of the moon weed continued unabated. In the city of New +York a million souls were reported as having lost their lives, and +this in spite of the difficulty experienced by the uncanny moon weed +in obtaining a foothold in Manhattan. It had been thought that the +asphalt and concrete would prove an effective barrier, and so they did +for a time. But, with the seed active in the parks and along the water +fronts, it was not long before the powerful roots of the greedy plants +worked their way underneath, ripping up pavements and wriggling into +cellars as they progressed. The city was a mass of wreckage and a +maelstrom of fighting, dying humanity. + +Whole regiments of the National Guard were wiped out as they fought +off the weed with ax and bayonet, in the effort to provide time for +the refugees to clear from their homes in certain localities. All +transportation facilities to the south and west were taxed to the +utmost. There was fighting and killing for the possession of +automobiles and planes and for room in trains and buses. Air-line +terminals and railroad stations were the scenes of dreadful massacres +as the police and military guards fought off the crazed and desperate +creatures who attacked them en masse. And still the news announcers +prated of the responsibility of one Carl Vanderventer. + +The telephone bell rang, and Bart answered it in relief. At last they +were to see some action! But no, it was merely the desk clerk, +notifying him that all employees were leaving the hotel and that they +would be left to shift for themselves. Yes, there was plenty of food +in the kitchens; they were welcome to it. And a permanent telephone +connection would be made to their room. The frightened clerk wished +them luck. + + * * * * * + +In endless monotone, the voice of the news announcer droned on. +Binghamton and Elmira, Albany and Schenectady, New Haven, +Philadelphia, Allentown--all had succumbed. The casualty estimates now +ran into the millions. The mist, the red mist that rose from the +steaming weed, was drifting westward and spreading the seed with ever +increasing rapidity. For now the monstrous growth from out the sky was +adapting itself to its environment; providing the seed with feathery +tufts that permitted the winds to carry them far and wide like the +seed of a dandelion. + +"Turn off that damn thing!" Bill shouted. And he jumped to his feet, +his eyes glinting strangely in the twilight gloom of the room. Bill +was close to the breaking point. + +"Guess you're right," Bart mumbled. "Not good for either of us to +listen to that stuff." He switched off the receiver, and they sat in +silence as darkness fell over the city. + +Bill shivered and felt for the button of the electric light which he +pressed with a trembling finger. They blinked in the sudden +illumination, but it cheered them somewhat. It was not good to sit in +the darkness and think. Besides, they knew that the turbine generators +of Potomac Edison were still running. Some brave souls were sticking +to their jobs--for a time, at least. + +"God!" Bill suddenly groaned, after an endless time of dead silence. +"My sister! Lives in Pittsburgh, you know. Wonder if she and the kids +got away. It won't be long before the damn stuff gets there." + +Bart thanked his lucky stars that he had no family ties. "Oh, they've +had plenty of warning," he tried to console Bill. "Hours, you know; +and the westbound lines are in good shape from there. I wouldn't worry +about them if I were you." + +There was utter silence once more. Even the customary street noises +was lacking. Both men jumped nervously when the shrill siren of a +police motorcycle sounded in the distance. Bart thought grimly of his +fracas with the officer who had tried to arrest Van. How long ago that +seemed, and how inconsequential an incident! + +Their windows faced north, and by midnight they could make out the red +glow of the moon weed, that awful band of flickering crimson that +painted the horizon the color of blood. The telephone clamored for +attention and Bill stifled a hysterical sob as the terrifying sound +broke the eery stillness. + +Van was on the way to get them! He had a Government car and they were +to go to Arlington for Bill's plane. Then what? He refused to commit +himself: they must follow him blindly. Anything was better than this +inactivity, though. Bart shouted with glee. + + * * * * * + +"We're going north," Van replied shortly, in answer to Bart's question +when they entered the official car in front of the hotel, "after Dan +Kelly." + +"After Dan Kelly? Got a line on him?" + +"Yes. Secret Service reports him in Toronto. The Canucks are after him +now, but, by God, I'm going to get him myself!" + +Van was haggard and wan, his eyes gleaming with a fanatical light. The +strain had done something to him--something Bart didn't like at all. +This was a different Van from the man who had entered his office two +days previously. Unshaven and unkempt, he looked and talked like a +drunken man on the verge of delirium tremens. + +"What's the idea, Van?" he asked gently. + +"I'm going to get him. I tell you. The scum! It's his fault the whole +world's against me. I'll get him, Bart; I'll kill him with my bare +hands!" + +So that was it! The combination of gruelling labor in the effort to +save mankind from the dread moon weed, and bitter censure from the +very people he was trying to save, had been too much for Van. He had +developed a fixation, unreasoning and murderous; he'd get even with +the man who had caused the trouble. And nothing could deter him from +his purpose: Bart could see that. Might as well humor him and help +him. It made little difference, anyway, with the red doom spreading at +its present rate. They'd all be victims in a few days. + +They were speeding through the streets of Washington at a break-neck +rate. Van bent over the wheel, and like a demented man glued his +wildly staring eyes to the road. + +"What about your work?" Bart asked, after a while. "Has anything been +accomplished?" + +"Yes and no. They'll be ready to shoot in a few hours. Don't know +whether it'll be a complete success or not. But I sneaked away anyhow. +This other thing's more important to me right now." + +"What's the dope? Can you tell us now?" + +"Sure. I've got one of the machines in the car and I'll explain when +we're on our way to Canada." + +This wasn't like Van. Never secretive and always in good humor, he was +treating his friends like annoying strangers. + +"You can't land in Canada," Bill ventured, as they pulled up at the +gate of the airport. + +"Like hell I can't! You watch my smoke, and let any bloody Canuck up +there try and stop me!" + +He was lifting a small black case from the luggage carrier of the car +as he replied. Bart silenced the airman with a look. + + * * * * * + +When they had taken off and were well under way, Van opened his black +case and set a vacuum-tube apparatus in operation. They were nearing +the fringe of the glowing sea of red that was the vast blanket of moon +weed. It now extended to within a few miles of Baltimore and stretched +northward as far as the eye could see. + +"It was a cinch," Van was explaining. "When I first saw that the +growth slowed up under the arc-lights at Tomkins Cove it gave me the +glimmering of an idea. Then, on the following day, when we learned +that the weed spread more slowly in sunlight, I was convinced. The +stuff is dormant on the moon, you know." + +"Why?" Bart asked breathlessly. + +"Because there is no atmosphere surrounding the moon, and the sun's +rays are not filtered before they reach its surface as they are here. +The invisible rays, ultra-violet and such, are present in full +proportion. And the moon weed can not flourish when subjected to light +of the higher frequencies. It died out when the moon lost its +atmosphere, and only revived on being brought to earth--probably a +million times more prolific in our dense and damp atmosphere and rich +soil. The thing's a cinch to dope out." + +"Yeah!" Bart commented drily. Van was now talking and he could have +bitten off his tongue for interrupting him. + +This machine of Van's was a generator of invisible light in the +ultra-indigo range, Van explained. You couldn't see its powerful beam, +but they had proved in the laboratory that it was certain doom to the +moon weed. They had grown the stuff from seed in steel cages, and +played with it until they were all satisfied. Now would come the final +test. Ten thousand planes were being equipped with the new generator, +which was merely an adaptation of standard directional television +transmitters, and to-night these would start out to fight the weed. It +was a cinch! + + * * * * * + +Beneath them the red cauldron seethed and tossed as they sped +northward; the crimson blanket of death that was steadily covering the +country. + +"Drop to a thousand feet, Bill," the scientist called, "and then watch +below. But, don't slow down. We've got to get to Toronto!" + +The ship nosed down and soon leveled off at the prescribed altitude. +Van's vacuum tubes lighted to full brilliancy, and a black spot +appeared on the glowing surface just beneath them, a black spot that +extended into a streak as the plane continued on its way. They were +cutting a swath of blackness fifty feet wide through the heart of the +growth! + +"See that!" Van gloated. "It's killing them by millions! And the best +of it is the effect it leaves behind. The soil is permeated to a depth +of several inches and the stuff will not germinate in the spots where +the ray has contracted. Oh, it works to perfection!" + +Bill was exuberant; his hopes revived miraculously. He gave his motor +the gun and got out of it every last revolution that it could turn up. +He must get Van to Canada! Not such a bad idea, this going after +Kelly, at that! + +Bart was voluble in his praise, then caught himself short as he +remembered that he had doubted Van but a half hour previously: doubted +him and despaired. Now Van, lapsing into gloomy silence after his +triumph, was again thinking of nothing but revenge. The getting of Dan +Kelly meant more to him now than the extinction of the moon weed. + + * * * * * + +When they landed at the Toronto Airport they were welcomed with open +arms instead of with rifle fire as Bill had anticipated. The news had +gone forth. Already a thousand planes flying over the United States +were driving back the sea of destruction. The invisible ray was a +success, and the name of Carl Vanderventer was now a thing with which +to conjure, rather than one on which to heap imprecation and insult. +Van grimaced wryly at this last bit of news. + +Danny Kelly? No one at the airport had ever heard of him. Van +telephoned in to the city; to Police Headquarters. Yes, they had +apprehended the fugitive American at the request of Washington, but he +was a slippery customer. He had escaped. Van raged and fumed. + +Of what use were the congratulations of the night flyers who still +loitered in the hangar; of what consolation the radio reports of the +success of the ultra-indigo ray in the States and in Europe? He had +come after his man and he'd failed. Defeat was a bitter pill. + +The news broadcasts from the States were jubilant and became +increasingly so during the night. The moon weed was being driven back +on a wide front and by morning would be entirely surrounded. There +would be no further loss of life and little more destruction of +property. Carl Vanderventer had saved the day! Van grunted his disgust +whenever an announcer mentioned his name. + +When daylight came they prepared to return. Little use there was of +searching the highways and byways of Canada for the fugitive. He'd +simply have to wait until the Canadians were able to get a line on Dan +Kelly again.--It was maddening! But Bart was glad. The light of reason +was returning to his friend's eyes in the reaction. + +Then there was a telephone call from the city for Van. Police +Headquarters wanted him. The fanatical glint returned to his eyes when +he ran for the hangar to answer the call. Perhaps they had already +captured Kelly! And he had an order in his pocket for the man's +return to the States. He'd been made a deputy, and with Kelly released +to him anything might happen. Something would happen. + + * * * * * + +But the police were reporting the unexplainable reappearance of the +moon weed just outside the city limits at a point near Cookesville. +Would Mr. Vanderventer be so kind as to fly over there and destroy it +before any lives were lost? He would. + +The growth had covered an acre of ground by the time they reached the +spot designated. But it was the work of only a minute to blast it out +of existence with the ultra-indigo ray. Van surveyed the blackened and +shriveled mass with satisfaction. + +"Let's land and take a look at it," he said. + +Bart thought he saw a look of exultation flash over his careworn +features. + +Soon they were wading deep in the blackened remains of the moon weed. +The stems and tendrils snapped and crumbled into powder as they passed +through. The stuff was done for, no question of that. + +Bill Petersen yelled and pointed a shaking forefinger at an object +that lay in the blackened ruin. It was a human skeleton, the bones +bare of flesh and gleaming white in the light of the early morning +sun. Van was on his knees, quick as a flash, feeling around the +grewsome thing: pawing at the shreds of clothing that remained. + +Then he was on his feet, his face shining with unholy glee. In his +hands were a half dozen small, smooth objects which looked like +pebbles. The diamonds! + +"I thought so!" he exclaimed. "It's Kelly. Only way the seed could +have gotten up here. He had some on his clothes and didn't know it. I +couldn't get him myself--but anyway I'm satisfied." + + * * * * * + +He staggered and would have fallen, had not Bart caught him in his +arms. Poor old Van! Nearly killed him, this thing had, but he'd be +himself again, after it was all over. No wonder he'd gone out of his +head with the horror of it, and the blame that had been so cruelly +laid on him! No wonder he'd become obsessed with this idea of getting +square with Dan Kelly! But now he was content: sleeping like a babe in +Bart's arms. + +Tenderly they carried him to the plane and laid him out on the +cushions in back. They'd let him sleep as long as he could; return him +to Washington where he'd receive his just dues in recognition for his +services. Then would follow the work of reconstruction and +rehabilitation. Van would glory in that. + +Bart regarded his sleeping friend thoughtfully as they winged their +swift way toward the American border. The harsh lines that had showed +in his face during the past few hours were smoothed away and in their +place was an expression of deep contentment. He was at peace with the +world once more. Good old Van. + +What a difference there would be when he awakened to full realization +of the changed order of things! What satisfaction and relief! + +[Illustration: Advertisement] + + + + +The Port of Missing Planes + +_By Captain S. P. Meek_ + +[Illustration: _"That portion of the wall has gone back in time +exactly three seconds," he announced._] + + +[Sidenote: In the underground caverns of the Selom, Dr. Bird once +again locks wills with the subversive genius, Saranoff.] + +So that's the "Port of Missing Planes," mused Dick Purdy as he looked +down over the side of his cockpit. "It looks wild and desolate all +right, but at that I can't fancy a bus cracking up here and not being +found pronto. Gosh, Wilder cracked in the wildest part of Arizona and +he was found in a week." + +The mail plane droned monotonously on through perfect flying weather. +Purdy continued to study the ground. Recently transferred from a +western run, he was getting his first glimpse of that section of ill +repute. Below him stretched a desolate, almost uninhabited stretch of +country. By looking back he could see Bellefonte a few miles behind +him, but Philipsburg, the next spot marked on his map, was not yet +visible. Twelve hundred feet below him ran a silver line of water +which his map told him was Little Moshannon Run. As he watched he +suddenly realized that the ground was not slipping by under him as +rapidly as it should. He glanced at his air-speed meter. + +"What the dickens?" he cried in surprise. For an hour his speed had +remained almost constant at one hundred miles an hour. Without +apparent cause it had dropped to forty, less than flying speed. He +realized that he was falling. A glance at his altimeter confirmed the +impression. The needle had dropped four hundred feet and was slowly +moving toward sea-level. + + * * * * * + +With an exclamation of alarm, Purdy advanced his throttle until the +three motors of his plane roared at full capacity. For a moment his +air-speed picked up, but the gain was only momentary. As he watched, +the meter dropped to zero, although the propellers still whirled at +top speed. His altimeter showed that he was gradually losing +elevation. + +He stood up and looked over the side of his plane. The ground below +him was stationary as far as forward progress was concerned, but it +was slowly rising to meet him. He fumbled at the release ring of his +parachute but another glance at the ground made him hesitate. It was +not more than three hundred feet below him. + +"I must be dreaming!" he cried. The ground was no longer stationary. +For some unexplained reason he was going backward. The motors were +still roaring at top speed. Purdy dropped back into his seat in the +cockpit. With his ailerons set for maximum lift he coaxed every +possible revolution from his laboring motors. For several minutes he +strained at the controls before he cast a quick glance over the side. +His backward speed had accelerated and the ground was less than fifty +feet below him. It was too close for a parachute jump. + +"As slow as I'm falling, I won't crack much, anyway," he consoled +himself. He reached for his switch and the roar of the motors died +away in silence. The plane gave a sickening lurch backwards and down +for an instant. Purdy again leaned over the side. He was no longer +going either forward or back but was sinking slowly down. He looked at +the ground directly under him. A cry of horror came from his lips. He +sat back mopping his brow. Another glance over the side brought an +expression of terror to his white face and he reached for the heavy +automatic pistol which hung by the side of the control seat. + + * * * * * + +"He cleared Bellefonte at nine in the morning, Dr. Bird" said +Inspector Dolan of the Post Office Department, "and headed toward +Philipsburg. He never arrived. By ten we were alarmed and by eleven we +had planes out searching for him. They reported nothing. He must have +come to grief within a rather restricted area, so we sent search +parties out at once. That was two weeks ago yesterday. No trace of +either him or his plane has been found." + +"The flying conditions were good?" + +"Perfect. Also, Purdy is above suspicion. He has been flying the mail +on the western runs for three years. This is his first accident. He +was carrying nothing of unusual value." + +"Are there any local conditions unfavorable to flying?" + +"None at all. It is much uninhabited country, but there is no reason +why it shouldn't be safe country to fly over." + +"There are some damnably unfavorable local conditions, Doctor, +although I can't tell you what they are," broke in Operative Carnes of +the United States Secret Service. "Dick Purdy was rather more than an +acquaintance of mine. After he was lost I looked into the record of +that section a little. It is known among aviators as 'The Port of +Missing Planes.'" + +"How did it get a name like that?" + +"From the number of unexplained and unexplainable accidents that +happen right there. Dugan of the air mail, was lost there last May. +They found the mailbags where he had dropped them before he crashed, +but they never found a trace of him or his plane." + +"They didn't?" + +"Not a trace. The same thing happened when Mayfield cracked in August. +He made a jump and broke his neck in landing. He was found all right, +but his ship wasn't. Trierson of the army, dropped there and _his_ +plane was never found. Neither was he. He was seen to go down in a +forced landing. He was flying last in a formation. As soon as he went +down the other ships turned back and circled over the ground where he +should have fallen. They saw nothing. Search parties found no trace of +either him or his ship. Those are the best known cases, but I have +heard rumors of several private ships which have gone down in that +district and have never been seen or heard of since." + + * * * * * + +Dr. Bird sat forward with a glitter in his piercing black eyes. Carnes +gave a grunt of satisfaction. He knew the meaning of that glitter. The +Doctor's interest had been fully aroused. + +"Inspector Dolan," said Dr. Bird sharply, "why didn't you tell me +those things?" + +"Well, Doctor, we don't like to talk about mail wrecks any more than +we have to. Of course, the loss of so many planes in one area is +merely a coincidence. Probably the wrecked planes were stolen as +souvenirs. Such things happen, you know." + +"Fiddlesticks!" said Dr. Bird sharply. He raised one long slender hand +with beautifully modeled tapering fingers and threw back his unruly +mop of black hair. His square, almost rugged jaw, protruded and the +glitter in his eyes grew in intensity. "No souvenir hunting vandals +could cart away whole planes without leaving a trace. In that case, +what became of the bodies? No, Inspector, this has gone beyond the +range of coincidence. There is some mystery here and it needs looking +into. Fortunately, my work at the Bureau of Standards is in such shape +that I can safely leave it. I intend to devote my entire time to +clearing this matter up. The ramifications may run deeper than either +you or I suspect. Please have all of your records dealing with plane +disappearances or wrecks in that locality sent to my office at once." + +The Post Office inspector stiffened. + +"Of course, Dr. Bird," he said formally, "we are very glad to hear any +suggestion that you may care to offer. When it comes, however, to a +matter of surrendering control of a Post Office matter to the +Department of Commerce or to the Treasury Department, I doubt the +propriety. Our records are confidential ones and are not open to +everyone who is curious. I will inform the proper authorities of your +desire to help, but I doubt seriously if they will avail themselves of +your offer." + + * * * * * + +Dr. Bird's black eyes shot fire. "Idiot!" he said. "If you're a +specimen of the Post Office Department, I'll have the entire case +taken out of your hands. Do you mean to cooperate with me or not?" + +"I fail to see what interest the Bureau of Standards can have in the +affair." + +"The Bureau isn't mixed up in it; Dr. Bird is. If necessary, I will go +direct to the President. Oh, thunder! What's the use of talking to +you? Who's your chief?" + +"Chief Inspector Watkins is in charge of all investigations." + +"Carnes, get him on the telephone. Tell him we are taking charge of +the investigation. If he balks, have Bolton go over his head. Then get +the chief of the Air Corps on the wire and arrange for an army plane +to-morrow. There is something more than a mail robbery back of this or +I'm badly fooled." + +"Do you suspect--" + +"I suspect nothing and no one, Carnes--yet! I'll get a few instruments +together to take with us to-morrow. We'll fly over that section until +something happens if it takes us until this time next year." + + * * * * * + +A three-seated scout plane rose from Langley Field at eight the next +morning. Captain Garland was at the controls. In the rear cockpit sat +Dr. Bird and Carnes. Inside his flying helmet, the doctor wore a pair +of headphones which were connected to a box on the floor before him. +Carnes carried no apparatus but his hand rested carelessly on the grip +of a machine-gun. + +The plane cleared Bellefonte at nine-thirty and bore east toward +Philipsburg. Captain Garland kept his eyes on his instrument board and +on a map. Less than six hundred feet above the ground, he was +following the air-mail route as exactly as possible. Overhead a mail +plane winged its way east, three thousand feet above them. + +Fifteen minutes brought them to Philipsburg. Captain Garland shot his +plane upward a few hundred feet. + +"Turn back, Captain," said Dr. Bird into the speaking tube. "Retrace +your course a quarter of a mile farther north. At Bellefonte, turn +back and go over the same ground another quarter of a mile north. Keep +flying back and forth, working your way north, until I tell you to +stop." + +The plane swung around and headed back toward Bellefonte. + +"Of course, we can't tell exactly what route he followed," said the +doctor to Carnes, "but he was new on this run and it is safe to assume +that he didn't stray far. We'll quarter the whole area before we +stop." + +Carnes watched the ground below them carefully. There was nothing +about it to distinguish it from any other wooded mountainous country +and his interest waned. He glanced aloft. The mail plane had +disappeared in the distance and the sky was clear of aircraft. He +turned again to the ground. It looked closer than it had before. He +turned and looked at the duplicate altimeter. The plane had lost +nearly a hundred feet elevation. + + * * * * * + +"There's something wrong about this plane, Doctor," came Captain +Garland's voice through the speaking tube. "It doesn't behave like it +should." + +"I guess we've found what we were looking for, Carnes," said Dr. Bird +grimly. "What seems to be the matter, Captain?" + +"Blessed if I know," was the answer. "It feels like a drag of some +sort, like an automobile going through heavy sand. We're slowing down, +though I am giving her all the gun I've got!" + +"Cut your motor!" said the doctor shortly. He bent over the duplicate +instrument board as the roar of the motor died away. Carnes rose and +looked over the side. + +"Look, Doctor!" he cried in a strained voice. Directly below them +yawned a hole sixty feet in diameter and extending down into the +bowels of the earth. The plane hovered over the hole for a moment and +then slowly descended into it. + +"What is it?" cried the detective. + +"It's the secret of the Port of Missing Planes," replied Dr. Bird. +"Throw off your parachute. Keep your gun and light handy but don't +fire unless I do first. The same holds good for you, Captain." + +The plane sunk until it was fifty feet below the level of the ground. +Carnes looked up. Gradually the circle of sky became blurred and hazy +as though the air were heavy with dust. The rasp of Dr. Bird's +flashlight key aroused him and he hastily wound his own. The haze +above them grew thicker. Suddenly the light died and then came +darkness, a darkness so thick and absolute that it bore down on them +like a weight. Dr. Bird's light stabbed a path through it. + + * * * * * + +They were in a tunnel or tube reaching into the ground. The sides were +smooth and polished, as though water worn. The plane sank deeper and +deeper into the earth. Suddenly Dr. Bird's light went out. + +"What's the matter, Doctor?" asked Carnes, "did your light fail?" + +"No," came a strained voice. "I turned it out." + +"Why?" + +"I don't know. Light yours." + +Carnes reached into his pocket. Dr. Bird could hear his breath come in +panting sobs as though he were exerting his whole strength. + +"I can't do it, Doctor," he gasped. "I want to, but some power greater +than my will prevents me." + +"Are you affected, Captain?" asked the Doctor. + +"I--can't--move," came in muffled accents from the front cockpit. + +"Some power beyond my knowledge has us in its grasp," said the doctor. +"All we can do is sit tight and see what happens. We are no longer +falling at any rate." + +From the forward cockpit came a rustling sound. There was a slight jar +in the ship, and it gave as though a weight had been applied to one +side. + +"What are you doing, Garland?" asked the doctor sharply. + +There was no reply. Again came the rustling sound. The ship gave a +sudden lurch as though a weight had left the side. Carnes suddenly +spoke. + +"Good-by, Doctor," he said. "I'm going over the side." + +"I have been fighting it but I'm going myself in a minute," replied +the doctor grimly. "Something is pulling me over. It's the same power +that keeps me from turning on my light." + +"It's perfectly safe to go over," said Carnes suddenly. "The plane is +resting on a solid base." + +"I have the same feeling. Catch hold of my belt and let's go." + + * * * * * + +They climbed over the side of the plane and dropped to the ground. +Their descent made absolutely no sound. Dr. Bird stopped and felt the +floor. + +"Crepe rubber, or something of the sort," he murmured. "At any rate, +it's noise and vibration proof." + +"Now what?" asked Carnes. + +"This way," replied the doctor confidently. "I'm beginning to get the +hang of understanding this. The way is perfectly level and open before +us. Keep your hand on my shoulder and step right out." + +"How do you know where we're going?" + +"I don't, but something tells me that the road is level and open. It +is the same thing that brought us over the side. I can't explain it +but it is some sort of a telepathic control exerted by an +intelligence. Whether the sending mind is reinforced by instruments I +don't know, but I rather fancy not." + +"Where is Garland?" + +"He went off in another direction. I could feel the power that guided +him although it was not directed at us. Something tells me that he is +safe for the present." + +For half a mile they made their way through the darkness before they +stopped. This time Carnes could plainly understand the command which +came to both of them. + +"There is a table before us," said Dr. Bird. "Lay your flashlight and +pistol on it." + +Carnes struggled against the order but the power guiding him was +stronger than his will. He strove to turn on his light. When he could +not, he tried to cock his pistol. With a sigh, he laid his gun and +light on the table before him. Without words, the two men walked +forward a few feet and sat confidently down on a bench that something +told them was there. + + * * * * * + +For a moment they sat quietly. A cry, choked in the middle, came from +the detective's throat. Cold clammy hands touched his face. He strove +again to cry out, but his voice was paralyzed. The hands went +methodically over his body, evidently searching for weapons. Mustering +up his will, Carnes made a grab for one of them. His captor apparently +had no objection to the detective's action for Carnes seized the hand +without effort. But he almost dropped it. The hand was as large as a +ham. He reached for the other hand but could not locate it. A movement +on the part of his captor brought it to him and he made the startling +discovery that the palms were directed outward. The hand had only four +fingers, which were armed with long curved claws instead of nails. +Carnes ran his hand up the palm to search for a thumb but found none. +He found, however, that, while the hands were naked, the wrists were +covered with short thick fur. + +"Doctor!" he cried, "there's--" + +Again came the overpowering will and his speech died away in silence. +He sat dumb and motionless while his captor moved over to Dr. Bird. A +second animal came forward and felt the detective over. He was not +allowed to move this time, nor was he while a third and fourth animal +went carefully over him. The four drew back some distance. + +"Doctor," whispered Carnes as the influence grew fainter. + +"Shh!" was the answer, and as the doctor's demand for silence was +reinforced by another wave of the paralyzing power, Carnes had no +choice. As he sat there silent, the power which held him again seemed +to grow less. He found that he could move his arms slightly. He edged +forward to get his gun and light. Before he reached them, a beam of +light split the darkness. Dr. Bird stood, electric torch in hand, +staring before him. + +At a distance of a few feet stood a group of half a dozen animals +about the height of a man as they stood erect on their short hind +legs. They were covered with heavy brown fur. Their lower limbs were +thin and light, but their shoulders and forelegs were heavy and +powerful. Their forepaws, which had the palms facing outward, were +armed with the long wicked claws he had felt. No visible ears +protruded from the round skulls. Their heads appeared to rest between +their shoulders, so short were their necks. Their muzzles were long +and obtusely pointed. Through grinning jaws could be seen powerful +white teeth. + +"Talpidae!" cried Dr. Bird. "Carnes, they are a race of giant +intellectual moles!" + + * * * * * + +Despite the fact that they had no visible eyes, the creatures were +strongly affected by the light. They dropped on all fours and turned +their backs to the scientist and the detective. Two of them scurried +away down a long tunnel which opened from the room in which they +stood. Dr. Bird turned his light up and swept the room. It was +roughly circular, a hundred feet in diameter, with a roof ten feet +high. Dozens of tunnels led off in every direction. + +"Your light, Carnes, quick!" cried the doctor in a strained voice. +Carnes reached toward the table for his light. Before he could reach +it he was frozen into immobility. From the corner of his eye he could +watch the doctor. Dr. Bird was struggling to bring the light back on +the moles which stood before them. Great beads of sweat stood out on +his forehead. Inch by inch he moved the light closer to his goal, but +Carnes could see that his thumb was stealing up toward the switch +button. His breath came in sobs. Suddenly the light went out. + +For some time the two men sat motionless on the bench unable to speak +or move. One of the moles stepped before them and gave a mental +command. The two rose to their feet. For a mile or more they followed +their guide, then, at a silent command, they turned to the right for a +few steps and stopped. In another moment, the numbing influence had +departed. + +"Are you all right, Carnes?" + +"Yes, right as can be. Doctor, what were those things? Where are we? +What's it all about?" + +"We'll find out in time, I guess," replied the doctor with a chuckle. +"Carnes, isn't this the darnedest thing we've ever been through? +Captured half a mile underground by a race of giant talpidae before +whose mental orders we are as helpless as children. Did you understand +any of their talk?" + +"Talk? I didn't hear any." + +"Well, mental conversation then. They made no sound." + +"No. All I understood was the orders I obeyed." + + * * * * * + +"I got a great deal of it," the doctor said. "We are evidently in or +near a sort of central community of these fellows. They spoke; +thought is a better word; they thought of doing away with us but +decided to wait until they consulted someone with more authority. You +see, we are not airplane pilots. Captain Garland was taken at once to +the place where they have other aviators imprisoned." + +"What do they want of pilots underground?" + +"I couldn't quite get that. There was another thought that I am not +sure that I interpreted correctly. If I did, there is some man of the +upper world down here in a position of considerable authority among +them. He has some use for pilots, but what use, I don't know. We are +to be held until he is consulted." + +"Who could it be?" + +"I can only think of one man. Carnes, and I hope I'm wrong. I don't +have to name him." + +"You mean--?" + +"Ivan Saranoff. We haven't heard of him or had any activity from him +for the last eight months. We know that he had a subterranean borer +with which he has penetrated deep into the earth. Isn't it possible +that he has, at some time in his explorations, come into contact with +these fellows and made friends with them?" + +"It's possible, Doctor, but I hoped we had killed him when we +destroyed his borer." + +"So did I, but he seems to bear a charmed life. Several times we have +thought him dead, only to have him show up with some new form of +devil's work. It is too much to hope that we have succeeded in doing +away with him. Did you notice one thing? Those fellows were helpless +while I held the light on them. The one which was holding us captive +got so interested in the discussion about our fate that he momentarily +forgot us. That was when I got my light. Until I turned the light away +from them, we were free men." + + * * * * * + +"That's right," answered the secret service man. + +"Remember that. The next time we get a light on a bunch of them, hold +them in the beam until we can make terms." + +"If we ever get hold of a light again." + +"I have a light they didn't get, probably because I didn't think of it +while they were around. It is one of those fountain pen battery +affairs and they probably took it for a pen. I won't turn it on now, +partly to save it and partly not to let them know we have it. Let's +see what our prison is like." + +They felt their way around the room. It proved to be eight paces by +ten in size. Like the tunnels it was floored with crepe rubber or some +similar substance which gave out no sound of footsteps, yet was firm +underfoot. The room was furnished with two beds, a table and two +chairs. There was no sign of a door. + +"That's that," exclaimed the doctor when they had finished their +exploration. "I'm hungry. I wonder when we eat. Hello, here comes one +of the fellows now." + +Carnes made no reply. As the doctor's speech ended, a wave of mental +power enveloped the room. One of the moles entered, moved over to the +table for an instant and then left the room. An earthly odor of +vegetables pervaded the room. + +"My question is answered," said the doctor. "We eat now." + +He moved to the table. On it had been placed dishes containing three +different types of roots. Two of them proved to be palatable, but the +third was woody and bitter. The prisoners made a hearty meal from the +two they relished. For an hour they sat waiting. + +"Here they come again!" exclaimed the doctor. "We are going before the +person I spoke of. Can't you get their thoughts?" + +"No, I can't, Doctor. I can understand when I get a command, but aside +from those times everything is a blank to me." + +"My mental wave receiver, if that's what it is, must be attuned to a +different frequency than yours, for I can hear them talking to one +another. I guess I should say that I can feel them thinking to one +another. At any rate, they want us to follow. Come along, the road +will be open and level." + + * * * * * + +The doctor stepped out confidently with Carnes at his heels. For half +a mile they went forward. Presently they halted. + +"We are in a big chamber here, Carnes," whispered the doctor, "and +there is someone before us. We'll have some light in a minute." + +His prophecy was soon fulfilled. A vague glimmer of light began to +fill the cavern in which they stood. As it grew stronger they could +see a raised dais before them on which were seated three figures. Two +of them were the giant moles. Each of the moles wore a helmet which +covered his head completely, with no sign of lenses or other means of +vision. It was the central figure, however, which held the attention +of the prisoners. + +Seated on a chair and regarding, them with an expression of sardonic +amusement was a man. Above a high forehead rose a thin scrub of white +hair. Keen brown eyes peered at them from under almost hairless brows. +The nose was high bridged and aquiline and went well with his +prominent cheekbones. His mouth was a mere gash below his nose, framed +by thin bloodless lips. The lips were curled in a sneer, revealing +yellow teeth. The whole expression of the face was one of revolting +cruelty. + +"So," said the figure slowly, "fate has been kind to me. My friends, +Dr. Bird and Operative Carnes have chosen to pay me a long visit. I +am greatly flattered." + +The thin metallic voice with its noticeable accent struck a familiar +chord. + +"Saranoff!" gasped Carnes. + +"Yes, Mr. Carnes, Saranoff. Professor Ivan Saranoff, of the faculty of +St. Petersburg once. Now merely Saranoff, the scourge of the +bourgeois." + + * * * * * + +"I hoped we had killed you," murmured Carnes. + +"It was no fault of Dr. Bird's that he failed," replied the Russian +with an excess of malevolence in his voice. "His method was a correct +one. Merely the fortuitous fact that we had just pierced one of the +tunnels of the Selom, and I was away from my borer exploring it, saved +me. You did me a good turn, Doctor, without meaning to. You destroyed +an instrument on which I had relied. In doing so, you unwittingly +delivered into my hands a power greater than any I had dreamed of--the +Selom." + +"What can a mental cripple like you do with blind allies like them?" +asked Dr. Bird with a contemptuous laugh. The Russian half rose from +his seat in rage. For a moment his hand toyed with a switch before +him. The sardonic sneer came back into his face and he dropped back +into his seat. + +"You nearly provoked me to destroy you, Doctor," he said, "but cold +calculation saved you. Since you will never return to the upper world, +save when and as I decree, I have no objection to telling you. The +Selom are not blind. Their eyes are under the skin as is the case with +many of the talpidae, but for all that they can see very well. Their +eyes function on a shorter wave than ours, a wave so short that it +readily penetrates through miles of earth and rock. This cavern is now +flooded with it. Visible light, the light by which we see, is limited +to their eyes, hence the helmets which you see. They can see through +those helmets as well as you or I can see through air." + +"What do you intend to do with us?" + +"Ah, Doctor, there you hit me in a tender spot. I have a sore +temptation to close this switch on which my hand rests. Were I to do +so, both you and Mr. Carnes would vanish forevermore. I have, however, +conceived a very real affection for you two. Your brains, Doctor, +working in my behalf instead of against me would render me well-nigh +omnipotent. Mr. Carnes has a certain low cunning which I can also use +to advantage. Both of you will join me." + + * * * * * + +"You might as well close your switch and save your breath, Saranoff, +for we will do nothing of the sort," replied the doctor sharply. + +"Ah, but you will. So will Mr. Carnes. I had no hopes that you would +join me willingly. In fact, I am pleased that you do not. I could +never trust you. All the same, you will join my forces as have the +others whom I have brought into the hands of the Selom. I have ways of +accomplishing my desires. It pleases my fancy, Doctor, to use your +brains in aiding me in my scientific developments. You will enjoy +working with the scientists of the Selom. Among them you will find +brains which excel any to be found on the surface of the earth, since +we two are below. Already I have learned much from them. You, Mr. +Carnes shall be taught to pilot an airplane. When my cohorts go forth +from the realms of the Selom to establish the rule of Russia, you will +be piloting one of the planes. Your first task will be to learn to +fly." + +"I refuse to do anything of the sort!" said Carnes. + +"I will not be ready to have your flying lessons started until +to-morrow," replied the Russian, "and you will have until then to +reconsider your rash decision. It will be much easier for you if you +obey my orders. If you still refuse to-morrow, you will pay a visit to +the laboratory of the Selom. When you return your lessons will be +started. You will now be taken to your cell. I have use for Dr. Bird +this afternoon." + +"I won't leave Dr. Bird and that's flat!" exclaimed Carnes. Dr. Bird +interrupted him. + +"Go ahead, Carnesy, old dear," he said lightly. "You might just as +well toddle along under your own power as to be dragged along. You +have a day for reflection, in any event. I daresay I'll see you again +before they do anything to you." + +Carnes glanced keenly at the doctor's face. What he saw evidently +reassured him for he turned without a word and walked away. The light +grew gradually dimmer until darkness again reigned in the cavern. + +"Come, Doctor," said Saranoff's voice. "We have work to do." + + * * * * * + +Carnes sat alone in his cell for hours. The darkness and loneliness +wore on him until he felt that his nerves would crack. Not a sound +came to him. He threw himself on one of the beds and plugged his ears +with his finger tips in an attempt to keep the silence out. Then a +cheerful voice sounded in the cell and a friendly hand fell on his +shoulder. + +"Well, Carnesy, old dear," said Dr. Bird, "have you been lonesome?" + +"Dr. Bird!" gasped Carnes in tones of relief. "Are you all right?" + +"Right as can be. I learned a lot this afternoon. For one thing, +you're going to start flying lessons to-morrow and you're going to do +your best to become an expert pilot in a short time. It is the only +thing to do." + +"And fly a plane for Saranoff?" + +"I hope not. The only way to avoid that very thing is to keep your +mentality unimpaired so that I can call on you for help when I need +it. If the Selom operate on you, you will be useless to me." + +"Operate? What do you mean?" + +"I'll tell you. The Selom are a very old and highly civilized people. +For ages they have possessed scientific knowledge for which the +upper-world scientists are now blindly groping. Among other things, +they have a perfect knowledge of the workings of the brain. If they +operate they will remove from your brain every speck of memory you +have of past events, leaving only those things that will be useful to +Saranoff. You will be his complete slave. In that condition you will +be taught to fly a plane. When the time comes, you will fly one with +no remembrance of anything which happened prior to the operation and +with no will but his. It will be easier to teach you flying in your +natural state if you are willing. You will be willing." + +"If you wish it, Doctor." + + * * * * * + +"I do wish it, most decidedly," Dr. Bird went on. "Obey every order +they give you. You will find that the Selom are an enlightened and +civilized race. They are very kindly and would willingly harm no one." + +"Then why have they taken up with Saranoff?" + +"He is the first man with whom they have come into contact. He has +told them a horrible tale of conditions on the surface, and they have +swallowed it, hook, line and sinker. They believe that he is going to +establish a new order of happiness and plenty for all with the aid of +his gang of cutthroats from Russia. If they had the slightest inkling +of the true state of affairs, they would turn on him in an instant." + +"Why don't you tell them?" + +"Remember that I am a stranger here and he has poisoned their minds +against me. Although the mind of an ordinary men is an open book to +them, they cannot read Saranoff's secret thoughts against his will. +They can't read mine either, for that matter. I am working in the +laboratory and I will pick up a great deal. When the time comes, we +will strike for our liberty and for the safety of the world." + +"Did you learn Saranoff's plans?" + +"Yes. He is gathering planes and pilots in the underground caverns of +the Selom. When he gets enough, he will bring men from Russia to man +the planes. What could the United States, or the world for that +matter, do against a fleet of hundreds, possibly thousands, of the +best planes equipped with deadly weapons unknown to their science? +That menace confronts us and we must remove it. To give you some idea +of the power of the Selom, this afternoon Saranoff and I with one +assistant opened a cavern in the solid rock three miles long and a +mile wide and over six hundred feet in height." + +"Three men! How on earth did you do it?" + +"Two men and one mole. We did it with a ray, the secret of which only +the Selom and Saranoff know." + + * * * * * + +"You have told me a disintegrating ray is an impossibility," objected +Carnes. + +"It is. This was not a disintegrating ray. Carnes, either I am crazy +or the Selom have solved the secret of time, the fourth dimension. I +haven't been able to grasp the whole thing yet. What I think we did +was to remove that rock a distance, perhaps only a millionth of a +second, forward or back into time. At any rate it ceased to exist, yet +they can bring it back unchanged at will. That was the way they +captured our plane. They sent out a magnetic ray of such power that it +stopped our plane in midair and brought it to the ground. They +removed the rock from beneath us and lowered us into the hole. By +reversing the process they restored things to their original +condition. All of these tunnels and rooms were made in that way." + +"I still don't understand how they did it." + +"I don't either, but I hope to in time. Now let's go to bed. It's +late. To-morrow you will start your lessons with Captain Garland as an +instructor. He won't know you for he was operated on this afternoon. +Do your best to become a pilot. When I get ready, I want you with me +in full possession of all your faculties." + +The next morning the two prisoners separated and went to their duties. +In the cavern which Dr. Bird had described, Captain Garland was +waiting beside the plane he had flown. He did not know Carnes, but he +still knew how to fly. Declining to enter into any conversation, he +started expounding the theory of flying to the detective. Carnes +remembered Dr. Bird's words and applied himself wholeheartedly. For +four hours they worked together. At the end of that time the light +faded in the cavern and Carnes was led by an unseen guide back to his +cell. He threw himself on a bed and awaited Dr. Bird's return. + +"I have learned a few more things about the Selom," said the doctor +when he entered the cell several hours later. "We are in their largest +community. They have cities or warrens scattered all over the world. +Each city has its own ruler, but the whole race are ruled by an +overlord or king who habitually lives here. He is away visiting a +community under northern Africa just now, but he will be back in a few +days. The Selom are sincere in their desire to help the upper world. +They feel great pity for mankind in view of the conditions Saranoff +has described to them. When the king returns. I plan to make a direct +appeal to him. In the meantime, go on with your flying lessons. How +did you make out to-day?" + + * * * * * + +The second day was a repetition of the first, as were the third and +fourth. A week passed before Dr. Bird entered the cell in evident +excitement. + +"Has Hanac brought our evening food yet?" he asked anxiously. + +"No, Doctor." + +"Good. Take this light. As soon as he enters throw the light full on +him and hold him until I work on him. We've got to make our escape." + +"Why?" + +"The king is due back to-morrow. Saranoff is frightened at the good +impression I have made on the Selom. He is supreme in the monarch's +absence, so he plans to operate on both of us before he returns. He is +afraid to allow me to see the king with an unimpaired intellect and +memory. Shh! Here comes Hanac." The door to their cell opened +noiselessly. When the mole who brought their food was well inside, +Carnes turned on the tiny flashlight. The mole dropped on all fours +and tried to turn its back. Dr. Bird sprang forward. For an instant +his slim muscular fingers worked on the mole's neck and shoulders. +Silently the animal sank in a heap. + +"Come on, Carnes," cried the doctor. "Turn off the light." + +"Did you kill him, Doctor?" asked Carnes as he raced down a pitch dark +corridor at the scientist's heels. + +"No, I merely paralyzed him temporarily. He'll be all right in a day +or so. Turn here." + + * * * * * + +For ten minutes they ran down corridor after corridor. Carnes soon +lost all track of direction, but Dr. Bird never hesitated. Presently +he slowed down to a walk. + +"It's a good thing I have a good memory," he said. "I planned that +course out from a map, and I had to memorize every turn and distance +of it. We are now behind your flying hall and away from any of the +regular dwellings of the Selom. Straight west about four miles is one +of the time-ray machines with a guard over it. Aside from them, there +isn't a mole between here and Detroit." + +"What are we going to do, Doctor?" + +"Keep out of their way and avoid recapture if we can. If we merely +wanted to escape we would try to get possession of that time-ray +machine and open a road to the surface. However, I am not content with +that. I want to stay underground until Astok, their king, returns. +When he comes, we will surrender to him." + +"Suppose they operate without giving us a chance to present our side +of the affair." + +"If they do, Saranoff wins; but they won't. The more I have seen of +the Selom, the more impressed I am by their sense of justice. They'll +give us a hearing, all right, and a fair one." + +For two hours the doctor led the way. At the end of that time he +stopped. + +"We've gone as far as we need to," he said. "They'll undoubtedly send +out searching parties, but if we can avoid thinking they won't be able +to find us. The tunnels are a perfect labyrinth. If you care to sleep, +go to it. We'll be safer sleeping than awake, for we won't be sending +out thoughts so fast." + + * * * * * + +Dr. Bird threw himself down on the rubber floor of the tunnel and was +soon asleep. Carnes tried to follow his example, but sleep would not +come to him. Frantically he tried to think of nothing. By an effort he +would sit for a few minutes with his mind a conscious blank, but +thoughts would throng in in spite of him. Time and again he brought +himself up with a jerk and forced his mind to become a blank. The +hours passed slowly. Carnes grew cramped from long immobility and +rose. A sudden thought intruded itself into his mind. "I might as well +throw that light away," he murmured to himself. "It will be no good +now. The Selom won't hurt us if they do catch us." + +He reached in his pocket for the light. He was about to hurl it from +him when a moment of sanity came to him. He stared about. The impulse +to hurl the light away came stronger. He strove in vain to turn it on. + +"Doctor!" he cried suddenly. "Wake up! They're after us!" + +With a bound, Dr. Bird was on his feet. + +"The light!" he cried. "Where is it?" + +"In--my--hand," murmured Carnes with stiffening lips. + +Dr. Bird seized the light. A beam stabbed the darkness. Less than +fifty feet from them stood two moles. As the light flashed on Carnes +regained control of himself. + +"Take the light, Carnes," snapped the doctor. "I've got to put these +fellows to sleep." + +Slowly he advanced toward the motionless Selom. He had almost reached +them when the light flickered out. He turned and raced at full speed +toward the detective. Carnes was standing rigid and motionless. Dr. +Bird took the light from his hand. Despite the almost overpowering +drag on his mind, he managed to turn it on. He swung the beam around +in a circle. Besides the two Selom he had seen before, the light +revealed a pair standing behind him. As the light struck them, the +numbing influence vanished for an instant from the doctor's mind. He +moved a step forward and then halted. The moles behind him were +hurling waves of mental power at him. Again the light cleared him for +an instant, but he got a brief glance of other moles hurrying from +every direction. + +"The jig's up, I guess," he muttered. He strove to free himself by the +use of his light, but the tiny battery had done its duty, and +gradually the light grew dimmer. The influence grew too strong for +him. With a sigh he shut off the feeble ray and hurled the light from +him. The moles closed in. + +"All right," said the doctor audibly. "We'll go peaceably." + + * * * * * + +As he spoke the paralyzing power was withdrawn. With Carnes at his +side he retraced the route he had taken from the cell. Before they +reached it they turned off. Dr. Bird realized that they were treading +the familiar path to the laboratory. + +Outside the laboratory the Selom halted. A wave of mental power +enveloped the prisoners and they remained silent and motionless while +their escort withdrew. From the laboratory came three of the Selom +scientists. As the laboratory door opened they could see that it was +bathed in a flood of light, and that the moles wore helmets covering +their heads. They moved inside. Clad in a white gown stood Saranoff. + +"So, my friends, you would run away and leave me, would you?" gloated +the Russian. "And just when I had planned a very beneficial operation +for you! I will remove permanently from your brains all the delusions +which now encumber them, and for your own puny wills I will substitute +my own." + +The power which had held the prisoners silent disappeared. + +"You have caught us, Saranoff," said Dr. Bird. "I know the power you +wield and that you are making no idle boast. I appeal, however, to +these others, my friends. The operation you are planning to perform +is not a routine one. It is one that should have the sanction of the +king before it is done. I appeal from you to him." + +"He is far away," laughed Saranoff. "When he returns, your plea will +be presented to him, but it will be too late to do you any good. You +are right, Doctor--I do not plan a mere routine operation. Not only +will I remove your memory, but I'm going to use the time-ray on you +and banish forever into the unknown a portion of your brains. Without +knowing which adjustment I make of the infinite number possible, no +one, not even the king, can ever recall it." + + * * * * * + +Dr. Bird turned to the Selom scientists and hurled his thoughts at +them. + +"This man intends to commit a horrible crime," he thought, "and one +which he has no authority to perform. To you I appeal for justice. Bid +him wait until Astok returns, and let him be the judge as to whether +it shall be done. Jumor, you know me well. You know that my brain is +the equal of one of the Selom. Even you cannot read my thoughts +against my will. Are you willing to see that brain destroyed? Astok +will be here soon and nothing will be lost by a short delay." + +"He thinks truly," was the answering thought of Jumor. "It would be +better to wait." + +"We will not wait," crashed Saranoff's thought into their +consciousness. "He killed Hanac when he escaped, and his punishment +shall be as I have decreed. Did not the king give me full power while +he was away?" + +"It is true that he ordered us to obey this man in all things dealing +with upper-world men," thought Jumor. "If it is true that he killed +Hanac his punishment is doubtless just." + +"I did not kill Hanac," returned the doctor. "He is paralyzed and will +be all right in a few hours, if he isn't already. I demand that you +wait until Astok returns. When an appeal is made to him, no other may +judge. So says the Selom law." + +"That is true," replied Jumor. "We will wait until the king returns." + +"We will _not_ wait," came Saranoff's thought. "The king delegated to +me his powers during his absence, as far as all the world, save the +Selom, were concerned. Were it one of the Selom appealing to the king, +I would be powerless before the appeal. These are not bound by Selom +law and are not entitled to its benefits. We will operate at once." + +"Then you will operate alone," retorted Jumor. "I will not assist +you." + +"I need none of your help," thought Saranoff. "Asmo and Camol, will +you help me? If you refuse I will report to Astok that you have +disobeyed and defied his chosen delegate." + +"We had better assist him, Jumor," thought Asmo. "Astok did delegate +his authority. I am not of the nobility and I dare not refuse to +help." + +"Suit yourself, Asmo," replied Jumor. "I refuse to assist, and will +appeal to Astok against him." + + * * * * * + +The third mole hesitated. + +"You are higher in rank than we are, Jumor," he thought at length, +"and like Asmo, I dare not resist him. I heard the king give this +upper-earth man his authority while he was away. I will assist." + +"And I will leave the room," retorted Jumor. + +He moved to a door and threw it open. At the threshold he paused and +sent back a final thought. + +"I will appeal to Astok, our ruler. I will send now a message to him +to hurry home that he may judge between us." + +The door closed behind him. Saranoff chuckled audibly. + +"Good-by, Carnes," said Dr. Bird sadly. "This devil can do all he says +he can, and more. I'm sorry I brought you and Garland into this mess." + +"Oh, well, it can't be helped, Doctor," replied the detective with an +attempt at cheerfulness. "What is he going to do to us?" + +"He'll have to use instruments for what he plans," said the doctor. +"Ordinarily a routine mental operation is performed without the use of +extraneous power. The mind of the operator is electrically connected +to the mind of the victim. By means of thought waves the operator +banishes from the mind of the subject such portions of his memory and +mentality as he chooses. He may then substitute other things in place +of what he has removed. Any of the Selom could operate on you, but I +doubt whether Jumor himself could do it successfully on me without aid +from power. Here come the instruments." + + * * * * * + +Asmo and Camol took from a cabinet on the side of the wall what looked +like a cloth helmet. Attached to it were a dozen wires which they +connected to a box on a table. The box was made of crystal and inside +it could be seen a number of vacuum tubes and coils of various +designs. Other leads ran to a similar helmet which Asmo placed on +Saranoff's head. A heavy cable ran to a switch on the wall. + +As Camol closed the switch the tubes in the box began to glow with +weird lights. Violet, green and orange streamers of light came from +them to dance in wild patterns on the laboratory walls. For five +minutes Saranoff made adjustments to dials on the front of the crystal +box. The colored lights died away and a gentle golden glow came from +the apparatus. He threw off the helmet. + +Camol left the laboratory and returned with a large coil on the top +of which was mounted a parabolic reflector. A device like a clock on +the front of the coil was constantly marking the passage of time. The +dial had two indicators which were together. Saranoff chuckled. + +"You may not have seen this device work, Doctor," he said. "In order +to let you know what you are facing, I will demonstrate." + +He turned the reflector so that it bore on the wall. He adjusted the +moving dial so that the two indicators were no longer together. As he +closed a switch, the wall before the reflector vanished. Saranoff +turned off the power. + +"That portion of the wall has gone back in time exactly three +seconds," he announced. "As far as the present is concerned, it has +ceased to exist. It is following us through time three seconds behind +us, but in all eternity it will never catch up unless I aid it. Since +the exact time is known, it can be restored. If I were to alter this +adjustment ever so little, it could never be recalled. Watch me." + + * * * * * + +He again closed the switch, this time in a reverse direction. The wall +instantly filled up as it had been before. He moved the time dial so +that the two indicators coincided. + +"After I have sent a portion of your physical brain into the past or +the future as the fancy strikes me, I will change the adjustment of +that dial. Since there are an infinite number of adjustments to which +I might have set it, the chances that any one could ever duplicate my +setting and restore it are the complement of infinity, or zero," he +said. "I am now ready to remove your memory. If the impossible should +happen and your physical brain be restored it would be useless. Asmo, +adjust the helmet. I will operate on my friend, the Doctor, first." + +Carnes strove to rush to Dr. Bird's assistance, but he was helpless +before the force of Camol's will. Asmo adjusted the helmet to Dr. +Bird's head and buckled it firmly in place. With an evil grin, +Saranoff donned the other helmet. + +"Good-by, Dr. Bird," he said mockingly. "You will continue to see me, +but you won't know me, except as your master." + + * * * * * + +His hand reached for the switch. It had almost closed on it when +Saranoff stopped convulsively. He sat motionless while the laboratory +door opened and Jumor entered the room. He was followed by another +mole. The newcomer was fully six inches taller than the others. His +head was hidden by a helmet, but around his arms he wore strings of +sparkling jewels. + +"Ivan Saranoff, what means this?" his powerful thoughts dominated the +room. + +"I was merely engaged in rectifying some of the mental errors of this +man of the upper earth," explained the Russian eagerly. "It is merely +a routine operation such as you gave me authority to perform." + +"An operation which uses power is not routine," replied the king. "I +am told that this upper-earth man has a brain equal to those of my +most advanced scientist. I am also told that you planned to do more +than rectify his mental errors." + +"You have been falsely informed. I was merely about to adjust his +memory." + +"Then what means this?" The king pointed to the time-ray machine. + +"That was brought here in order that it could be used when you +returned," thought the Russian eagerly. "This upper-earth man killed +Hanac when he brought him food." + +The door opened and Hanac entered. + +"Oh, Astok," objected Hanac's thoughts, "when these upper-earth men +had me at their mercy, with a light, they spared me. They paralyzed me +for a time so that they might escape but they did it in such a manner +that no harm came to me." + +"So Jumor told me," replied the king. "Release them." + + * * * * * + +In an instant Carnes was on his feet removing the helmet from Dr. +Bird's head. The doctor struggled to his feet. + +"Dr. Bird," thought the king, "can you communicate with me easily?" + +"Yes, Your Majesty, but may I ask that you alter the vibration period +of my comrade, Mr. Carnes? He cannot understand you with his present +low period." + +The king stepped to the box with which Saranoff had been working. In +response to his commands the helmet which had been on Dr. Bird's head +was placed on the detective. The king made a few adjustments to the +dials and signalled for the helmet to be removed. + +"Can you understand me, Mr. Carnes?" he asked mentally. + +The question leaped with startling clearness into the detective's +head. Carefully he framed his answer. + +"I can understand you," said the king. "I will now sit in judgment on +the appeal made to me. Dr. Bird tell me your story." + +With eloquent thoughts, Dr. Bird poured forth the history of the upper +world. He told of the great war and the collapse of the Russian +monarchy. He traced history to the fall of the moderate party and the +rise of the Bolsheviki. He described the horrible conditions existing +in Russia. At the end he reviewed the long battle he and Carnes had +fought against Saranoff. When he had finished, the king questioned +Carnes. + +The detective repeated the story in different words and the king +turned to Saranoff. From the Russian's mind came a tissue of distorted +facts and downright lies. He denied or twisted around everything that +the detective and the scientist had said. When he had done with his +tale, Astok sat in secret thought for a few minutes. + +"The tales you tell me are so far apart that I can give credence to +none of them," he announced at length. "There is but one solution. +Although they are never used, for the Selom have forgotten the meaning +of a falsehood, we have instruments which will drag the truth from the +brain of a liar. They are powerful and their use may easily be fatal. +If a man gives forth the contents of his brain willingly, the process +is not painful. If he tries to conceal anything, it is torture. Will +you willingly submit your brains to the searching of this instrument?" + +"Gladly," came Dr. Bird's thought and Carnes reechoed it. + +"And you, Ivan Saranoff?" demanded the king. + +"I will not submit," thought the Russian sullenly. + +"You will be examined whether you submit willingly or not," replied +Astok. "I am going to learn the truth though I kill you all to get +it." + + * * * * * + +At the king's order, Jumor hastened from the laboratory. He returned +in a few minutes with an apparatus similar to the one which Saranoff +had planned to use on Dr. Bird, but larger, and with more dials on the +crystal box. At a command from the king, Dr. Bird donned the helmet. + +The king manipulated switches and dials. Around Dr. Bird's head glowed +a halo of crimson light. Twice an expression of momentary pain passed +over his countenance. After half an hour, Astok cut on the power and +nodded to Carnes. + +"Don't try to hold anything back, Carnesy," said Dr. Bird sharply. +"You couldn't if you tried, and the process is very painful, I can +assure you." + +With the helmet on his head the detective sat for ten minutes while +the Selom king went through his brain. A dozen times he shrieked in +agony but his moments of suffering were short. The king removed the +helmet. + +"Your minds agree well," he thought. "Now I will examine the mind of +my friend." + +The helmet was strapped on Saranoff. Instantly an expression of the +utmost anguish crossed his face. Shriek after shriek of agony came +from his writhing lips. Relentlessly the king applied more power. The +cries of the Russian grew heartrending. Suddenly he grew rigid and +slumped forward in his chair. Astok impassively manipulated his +instrument. After half an hour, he opened the switch and removed the +helmet. Under the ministrations of Jumor the Russian revived. The king +sat in secret thought for an hour. + +"I have examined the brains of all of you," he announced at length, +"and I find hopeless contradictions. Each of you believes thoroughly +in his own social order. Both tell me of hopeless misery on the part +of a large portion of his people. Both tell of horrible wars and +suffering beyond my comprehension. The thoughts of all of you teem +with modes of bringing death to your fellow beings. Your entire +science his been perverted to the ends of destruction. Nothing of the +sort can be realized by the Selom where truth, justice and mercy +prevail. Each of you holds that his form of government is better than +the other, and will cause less suffering and misery than the others'. +None of you hold out hope of happiness for your fellow beings. I do +not know which system is less obnoxious. My decision is made. The +Selom will not interfere in the affairs of the upper-earth. You may +fight out your battles without aid and without interference. + +"I will operate on both Ivan Saranoff and Dr. Bird. I will remove from +their minds all knowledge of our science and instruments and leave +them in the same condition that they were when they entered my realms. +Each of you will then be returned to upper-earth, Ivan Saranoff to +Russia, Dr. Bird and Mr. Carnes to the United States. The pilots, whom +I hold prisoners, will have their mentalities restored and be returned +to their homes. The planes we have captured, I will send off into time +so that they can never be used for the misery of upper-earth men +again. Jumor, you will carry out these orders." + + * * * * * + +"I wish I could remember how that time machine was built and +operated," said Dr. Bird reflectively, as he sat in his private +laboratory in the Bureau of Standards some time later, "but Jumor did +his work well. I can't even remember what the thing looked like." + +"Well, Doctor, our trip below wasn't a loss. We removed a very real +menace to the established order of things and we have got rid of +Saranoff temporarily. It will take him some time to return here from +Russia." + +"Three weeks or less," said Dr. Bird pessimistically. "However, we +have gained one other thing. Did you notice this?" + +He pulled what looked like a watch from his pocket. Carnes regarded it +with a puzzled expression. + +"No, Doctor, what is it?" + +"It is a very small camera which takes pictures one-half inch by +seven-eighths. I had several opportunities to use it. I wasn't sure +that it would work on such short waves, but it did. When Saranoff +tries to return to this country, he will find that every immigration +inspector and every member of the border patrol has an excellent +likeness of him. That may hinder his entrance into the country for a +little while." + + +A CLASSIFICATION OF THE UNIVERSE + + +A classification of everything in the universe, from the smallest +thing yet measured, the electron, less than a millionth of a millionth +of an inch in extent, to the biggest, a star system of a thousand +million trillion miles, was described recently by Prof. Harlow Shapley +of Harvard in a lecture at the commerce center of the College of the +City of New York. + +Looking forward to a time when man will be able to measure even +smaller things than the electron and larger than the greatest star +system, Prof. Shapley explained that he had left the classification +"open at both ends." + +Man, Prof. Shapley said, occupies a very small place in all this +system, although, beside an electron or an atom, he is not so +negligible, at that. + +"The survey," it was explained, "aims toward giving perspective. It +gives a sane and modest view of man's place in the scheme. + +"The significance of the classification lies in the skeleton which is +afforded all science to bring some measure of order out of the world's +present chaotic knowledge of the systems of various kinds. + +"All systems find a place in this synthesis--atoms, comets and +galaxies; man, radiation and the space-time complex. When looked at in +this objective way, human beings, and all associated terrestrial +organisms, appear only parenthetically in one of the subdivisions of +the class of colloidal aggregates." + +Prof. Shapley discussed the concept of the cosmoplasma. + +"This," it was explained, "is at once the most mysterious and +fundamental part of the universe, and only recently has come under +direct experimental study. In brief, it is the substratum of materials +throughout the universe, between planets, stars and the galaxies. + +"It has no obvious systematic organization. Hence it includes such +diverse constituents as the high speed shooting stars, interstellar +calcium gas and radiation itself. + +"Though no one has even seen an electron, the smallest thing included +in the classification, they have been proved to exist in several ways. +They give forth flashes of light that can be photographed. They have +caused the bending of X-rays as they pass through a substance." + + + + +[Illustration: The Readers' Corner + +_A Meeting Place for Readers of_ Astounding Stories] + + +_Likes the "Corner"_ + + Dear Editor: + + This month's issue, May, has the best collection of letters + you've ever published. All it lacked was a letter from + Bernard J. Kenton, that master of epistles and super-science + stories. One of your Readers would like to have "The + Readers' Corner" omitted. For heaven's sake, don't take it + out! I recognize it as one of the best features of our mag, + and whenever I open the covers, turn to it directly after + having glimpsed the table of contents and the announcement + of the stories to appear in the forthcoming issue. + + Mr. Joseph R. Barnes--whose letter I enjoyed immensely, + incidentally--will be interested in knowing that "The Mascot + Deep" is already in book form and that "The Disintegration + Machine" and "When the World Screamed," all by the same + author, are under the same covers. He also will be + interested in learning that Ray Cummings' fine story, "Sea + Girl," is also between hard covers. + + The idea of putting out a quarterly is a dandy. The other + science fiction quarterlies are mere text-books; there are, + occasionally, of course, a few exceptions. The thought of + the sort of fantastic action stories Astounding Stories + publishes, put together in a magazine doubly thick, is a + pleasing one to contemplate. Reading a story the length of + "Brigands of the Moon" and of such literary merit, complete + in one issue, is a thrill to be looked forward to. By all + means put out such a magazine and have stories by Jack + Williamson, R. F. Starzl and Edmond Hamilton, three of your + best writers, in the first issue. + + I'm glad to see that Starzl is coming back with the next + issue. More from him, please. And Hamilton and Williamson + should appear more frequently, too. + + A question, Mr. Cummings: Shades of Polter and Tugh!--why + must you always have a deformed character in your stories? + Do they appeal to your dramatic sense? + + The news that we're going to have a story from Francis Flagg + brings raptures of delight to my homely face. If it's a + dimensional story, I'll cheer twice. When it comes to + writing that kind of a story, Flagg's the king of them all. + For sheer interest and originality, he's got his + contemporaries in that field outdistanced with a distance + that can only be counted by light-years. + + A pat on the back for Booth Cody and Sears Langwell, two + staunch supporters. + + All our magazine needs is a story about time crusaders, or a + planet of mechanical men. + + Omitting the authors already mentioned, I considered my + favorites to be Rousseau, Eshbach, Diffin, Ernst, and Hal K. + Wells. + + The best story you ever published? Who am I to answer? Why + not put it up to the Readers for popular vote?--Jerome + Siegel, 10522 Kimberley Ave., Cleveland, Ohio. + + +_Explanation Wanted_ + + Dear Editor: + + This is my first letter to you, but I am a consistent Reader + of Astounding Stories, and look forward to all of the coming + issues. I have in mind a question, a friendly one, not one + that I expect to or hope will seem to be trying to dampen + any theories. This rocket-ship propulsion: as I understand + it, there is a void between all planets, etc. If this is the + case, how then can a rocket-propelled space ship go across + this void? Since the exhaust of the rockets must rely on + some material of a sort, or rather some sort of resistance + to push the ship along, how does it push on nothing? Of + course, near Earth it has the ground and then the atmosphere + to push from, but out in the void, why not cut off and save + fuel, therefore saving an extra heavy load of explosives, if + rocket-ships were really practical in space flying? Yours + for a thicker Astounding Stories--H. M. Crowson, Jr., + Sumter, S. C. + + +_Better Than Love Stories_ + + Dear Editor: + + I have started to read the Astounding Stories and enjoy it + very much, although I do not find very many girls writing in + to the "Corner." This mag is a thousand times better than + all those love story magazines, and besides these stories + are educational. + + I would rather read Astounding Stories than eat. They are + not too scientific to be boresome, but they are just good + enough to be real interesting. + + I wish you would publish some more stories like "The Lake of + Light," "Dark Moon," etc. I especially like stories of the + future and interplanetary novels. + + Anyone wishing to correspond with me will be welcome, as I + love to write letters, and especially to anyone interested + in the same things that I am.--(Miss) Bernice Goldberg, 147 + Crescent Drive, Mason City, Iowa. + + +_Kidding the Editor_ + + Dear Editor: + + I have just finished your January, 1932, issue of Astounding + Stories. It was superb. + + Imagine my delight and surprise when I purchased the first + issue this year! Smooth edges! Good quality of paper! I had + a few other articles to purchase but I forgot all about + them when I saw your magazine and rushed home to read it. + + It had a most admirable cover design by your best artist, H. + W. Wesso. I turned to the Contents Page. The first story was + by my favorite author, Ray Cummings, and called "The Space + Car to Mars." Hot dog! My favorite theme, interplanetary + travel. + + All the rest of the Authors were my favorites too! Edmond + Hamilton, Capt. S. P. Meek, S. P. Wright, A. J. Burks and a + short story by Jack Williamson. + + I turned to the next page and lo and behold, what do I see + but an editorial. Wonders after wonders! It was called "The + Possibilities of Space Travel." I was by this time beginning + to think that at last the Editor had achieved a perfect + magazine, and when I turned to the first story, the one by + Ray Cummings, I knew it. There was a double-page + illustration by Wesso in soft and realistic _colors_! Think + of it! _Colored_ illustrations for each story! + + Well, I was so excited that I could hardly read, but at last + I began. Boy, can Ray Cummings write interplanetary stories! + Y como! (And how!) He wove scientific explanations into the + story so very skillfully that one learned the scientific + facts without knowing it. When he thought that the + explanation of some invention would be boresome, he put a + little note at the foot of the page. This, I remembered, was + an admirable feature in his story "Brigands of the Moon," + which you published two years ago. + + I then turned to "The Readers' Corner" only to discover that + its name had been changed to "The Observatory." (I expect + this name was taken from the suggestion of P. Leadbeater in + the March, 1931, issue.) I discovered also, to my delight, + that at the end of each letter the Editor made a few + comments. I finished reading the Readers' letters and on the + next page I found this leadline: "Science Questions and + Answers." I read these with enthusiasm. + + I forgot to mention the raise in the price to twenty-five + cents, but that is immaterial to me now since I have the + perfect science fiction magazine. You have surely hitched + your wagon (magazine) to a star now!--Clay Ferguson, Jr., + 510 Park St. S. W., Roanoke, Va. + + +_Sugar Candy_ + + Dear Editor: + + It is very seldom that I write to any page like "The + Readers' Corner" but I have gotten rather tired of all those + knocks. So I am writing to say that I have missed only one + of your issues since the second, (Feb. 1930) and have found + only one not to my liking, and I have forgotten what that + is. + + I have no comment to make on your Authors. I don't care who + writes it or what his literary reputation is--as long as + the story is good; and you wouldn't print it if it weren't. + + As for exact scientific data--away with it. Some may wish to + be bored with it, but I prefer action. I like your pictures. + They are bizarre and give one an idea of what the Author is + trying to convey. And they intrigue the interest before the + story is read. I also like the size, because it is not + awkward, and I like the edges because they make the pages + easy to turn.--Mrs. Margaret M. Phinney, 1632 W. 3rd, + Plainfield, N. J. + + +"_Becoming a Habit_" + + Dear Editor: + + The May Astounding Stories seems to have nothing but + complimentary letters in it. Mr. Magnuson probably tore out + his hair when he saw all those letters. Not that Astounding + Stories fully deserves all that praise. As one Reader said, + words are inadequate to describe how wonderful your magazine + is; however, I do not agree with those who denounce some of + the Readers for making criticisms and suggestions. No + magazine can be absolutely perfect, although Astounding + Stories comes pretty near it. Even if it were perfect, the + Readers would have to keep on making criticisms and + suggestions in order to keep it that way. Besides, "The + Readers' Corner" would become pretty dull and lifeless if + you printed nothing but flattering letters. Most of the + Readers who make unfavorable criticisms really have the + welfare of the magazine in mind, else they wouldn't write at + all. All of them aren't grouches. For example: a certain + person sent one of the Science Fiction magazines about the + most vicious and uncomplimentary letter that magazine had + ever received. Yet in this issue of Astounding Stories he + jumps on the knockers for daring to say anything against + Astounding Stories! So you see that all knockers are not + hopeless! + + I notice that you have complied with one of my requests, and + have published an autobiography of Mr. Wentzler, although + there is no picture. Perhaps, as Mr. Wentzler suggests, that + is for the best. The readers of Astounding Stories are + accustomed to pictures of grotesque and weird-looking + inhabitants of other planets, but a picture of Mr. Wentzler + may prove to be too much. Or, if you do put it in, you might + entitle it "Wesso's Conception of a Martian." + + I hope Mr. Wentzler does not take the above paragraph too + seriously. Like him, I was hit on the head when I was but a + babe. In my case, it was a bronze statue that proved to be + my undoing. Unfortunately, they were never able to + straighten out the bend in that statue, which was the result + of its contact with my dome. + + As for the stories in the May issue, they were all perfect, + every one of them. Having all the stories perfect in each + issue is becoming a habit with you. Keep up this habit. For + first place I nominate "When the Moon Turned Green." I + considered Mr. Wells' previous story, "The Gate to Xoran" + the best short story you had ever printed, but the later one + surpasses it. You will not be making a mistake if you give + us many more stories by this Author. I do not need to say + anything else about the rest of the stories--they are all + excellent. + + Don't you think that it is about time for Astounding Stories + to become a semi-monthly?--Michael Fogaris, 157 Fourth + Street, Passaic, N. J. + + +_Located at Last_ + + Dear Editor: + + I read every Science Fiction magazine on the market, and can + truthfully say that yours is the best of them all. + + Of course, there is always room for improvement, and some of + the stories published in the May issue were not so hot. Meek + always gives me a pain in the neck, but Cummings is an ace, + though the installment in this issue dragged considerably. + In Diffin you have a master writer; and I was tickled to + death to see finally in "our" mag a story by that peerless + team, Schachner and Zagat. + + I was wondering how long it would take you to locate them, + as you have done with most of the other stars in Science + Fiction.--Bill Merriam, Ocean Front, Venice, Cal. + + +_"Stories Aid Considerably"_ + + Dear Editor: + + I cannot rightfully say what story was the best in + Astounding Stories. For the man who balances stories for + their values is just kidding himself. That is my theory and + I am ready at all times to stand in back of it. + + Though I have only been reading Astounding Stories since + January, I am a thoroughly convinced fan. For the past two + years I have been puttering with chemistry and physics in a + laboratory of my own, and the science mentioned in these + stories aids considerably. + + I would sincerely appreciate letters from Readers of + Astounding Stories. I will answer all.--Lawrence Schumaker, + 1020 Sharon St., Jamesville, Wis. + + +_To the Rescue, Somebody!_ + + Dear Editor: + + You're getting better all the time. The April number was the + best yet, and the May issue is not far behind it. The cover + on the May issue was wonderful. + + "Dark Moon" is the best story by Diffin that you have yet + printed. "When the Moon Turned Green" and "The Death Cloud" + are both masterpieces. + + "The Exile of Time" is a fine story, but I cannot understand + the explanations. How could the murder of Major Atwood be + mentioned in the records of New York? Why could not one see + events in which he participated? Of course, Ray Cummings + perhaps knows more about it than I, but I think a lot of his + ideas are the bunk. + + I do not think that your stories should be full of science + and nothing else, but they should at least observe known + scientific facts.--J. J. Johnston, Mowbray, Man., Can. + + +_A "Two-Timer"_ + + Dear Editor: + + I was surprised but pleased to receive the answer to the + question I asked in my letter to you. It is indeed a + pleasure to read a magazine that takes enough interest in + its patrons to personally answer a letter written to it. + Thank you very much. + + And I am certainly glad that we are to get a sequel to "Dark + Moon." I wish that I could personally tell Mr. Diffin what I + think of his writing. + + I am anxiously awaiting the next issue of "our mag." It + certainly does seem a long time between issues. When are you + going to start putting it on the stands twice a month? I + know that thousands of Readers would bless the day you did + it. + + Please keep up the good work; and I know you will, for the + longer I read A. S. the more I enjoy it. + + The serial, "The Exile of Time," is a story par excellence. + But I know the forthcoming sequel to "Dark Moon" will be a + super-story. + + My idea of reading is that if a story is worth reading once + it is worth reading twice, and I have never seen any story + in your book that was not worth reading once. Nuff said. + + I will answer any letters written me. I hope to hear from + plenty of Readers--C. G. Davis, 531 S. Millard, Chicago, + Ill. + + +_And Sequel It Has_ + + Dear Editor: + + I have just finished the May number of Astounding Stories, + and want to send my contribution to "The Readers' Corner." + + The novelette, "Dark Moon," by Diffin, is rather an + outstanding story, in my opinion. It is plausible and + convincing, and the literary quality is high. I have a + feeling that this should have a sequel, and wonder if others + will not agree with me. That Astounding Stories is the best + of the Science Fiction Magazines is something that scarcely + lends itself to argument. Without questions, it leads them + all. Take the present number for instance: Diffin, Meek and + Cummings, three top-notchers, all in one issue.--A. J. + Harris, 1525 Bushnell Ave., South Pasadena, Cal. + + +_I'm Afraid Not_ + + Dear Editor: + + I have read every one of your Astounding Stories and think + there is no other magazine on the market like it. Only one + kick: it doesn't appear often enough. I should like to see + it every week; every two weeks, anyway. I like every story + you print, and I think the size of your magazine is perfect. + I have saved every issue I read, and now have seventeen of + them. + + "Phalanxes of Atlans" and "Marooned Under the Sea" were + especially good. "The Readers' Corner" is fine, but I don't + like so many brickbats thrown. I should like to see more + bouquets given to you. + + There is one thing I'd like to see you print. You probably + have heard of the Fox Movietone picture, "Just Imagine," an + interplanetary story of 1930. I'd like to see it printed in + Astounding Stories more than anything else. It would make a + fine serial. I don't suppose it would be possible for you to + print it, though, would it?--Ernestine Small, 1151 Brighton + Ave., Portland, Ore. + + +_Better to Verse_ + +Dear Editor: + + Astounding Stories can't be beat; + Its every issue is a treat. + The finest authors of the age + Appear upon Astounding's stage. + There's Diffin, Cummings, Leinster, Burks; + An all-star cast that's sure the works. + Harl Vincent, Wells, and Starzl, too, + Belong among this famous crew. + Ed Hamilton and Vic Rousseau + With Captain Meek complete the show. + Together they are sure the best; + That's why Astounding leads the rest! + + --Booth Cody, Bronx, N. Y. + + +_Another "Two-Timer"_ + + Dear Editor: + + I have just finished reading the May issue of Astounding + Stories for the second time. I have been reading Astounding + Stories for over a year, and so far I can find only one + thing wrong with it, and that is that it is not thick + enough. In other words, you do not put enough stories in it. + + Some people who write in to the "Corner" say that the paper + is rotten. I still have all my magazines, and the paper is + as good as new. The paper is also good on the eyes, as it + does not reflect light like a mirror, as some paper does. + Some people say the pages are uneven and hard to turn. Like + Mr. H. N. Snager, I become so interested in the stories I do + not notice such trifles. Anybody who yells about the color + of the cover, the durability of the paper, is not very + interested in Astounding Stories. + + Why don't you either print a full page picture at the + beginning of each story or else keep the half page picture + at the beginning and put another picture halfway through the + story?--Wm. McCalvy, 1244 Beech St., St. Paul, Minn. + + +_A Buttercup for Paul_ + + Dear Editor: + + Congratulations! Astounding Stories has scored again! Not + satisfied with illustrations by the mighty Wesso only, you + have secured a drawing by the equally mighty Paul! May we + see many more by him?--Thomas L. Kratzer, 3595 Tullamore + Rd., Cleveland Heights, Ohio. + + +_Nerves Now Better?_ + + Dear Editor: + + In Gould you have a fine illustrator; in Wesso a better one, + but as I skip the page on which the story, a truly + remarkable one by R. F. Starzl, "The Earthman's Burden" is + on, my eye is caught by--yes! a drawing by Paul, good old + reliable Mr. Paul, the king of Science Fiction illustrators. + Now that you have him on your artist's staff I wouldn't feel + at all bad seeing a painting of his on the cover. + + The June issue was a dazzler. "Manape the Mighty" held me + spellbound. The others were all excellent stories. The cover + painting by Wesso was good, but I have already seen one of + that sort in a previous issue. Why not give us more + interplanetary illustrations of space ships and the like as + in "Brigands of the Moon"? + + Another thing, it is nine-thirty. I must be asleep by + eleven-thirty in order to start for school early the next + morning. I allow myself two hours in which to read + Astounding Stories. I turn to the contents section; I see a + story there which I wish to read. It is on page 604. I turn + the pages: 599, 601, 607 come in rapid succession, all but + the page I look for. This goes on for some time until at + last the roughened edge of 604 comes into view. By then my + nerves are on edge and I find it is almost eleven-thirty! + + But I cannot say that you do not stand up with the foremost + of all magazines, and the way you are improving now you'll + soon forge far in front.--Arthur Berkowitz, 763 Beck St., + New York City. + + +_Some Goal!_ + + Dear Editor: + + Permit me to congratulate Mr. Diffin on his latest + masterpiece, "Holocaust." + + Every once in a while Mr. Diffin produces a story that bids + fair to eclipse all its contemporaries. His former story, + "The Power and the Glory," could also be placed in that + category. Somehow, that story has become indelibly written + on my memory. The philosophy expressed in it was + overwhelming. It would have done justice to a Shakespeare. + + And now, you can imagine how delighted I am to learn that + Mr. Diffin has once again graced us with a yarn of the same + class. + + Man, if you continue to publish such stories as these + frequently, you'll have the public terming Astounding + Stories literature of the highest grade! However, I won't + entreat Mr. Diffin to write these stories spasmodically, as + the long wait between tales adds lure to the stories. + + And now for Mr. Burks. Ah--here is an extraordinary chap! + Mr. Burks is your most versatile author. Of his several + stories, each has opened up a new vista in the field of + Science Fiction, and he is a thoroughbred in each endeavor. + If you want to be convinced, read the opening chapters of + "Manape The Mighty," and I will wager any sum you won't lay + down the story until you've read every word. + + As a matter of fact, all the stories are good. And the bill + for next month appears to be exceptionally unusual. It is + very evident that you are on the road to perfection. Smooth + cut edges, the acquisition of the greatest of artists, Paul, + all point to the accelerating progress Astounding Stories is + achieving. + + We Readers are frequently asked as to how we would run the + magazine if we were Editors. Well, here is my conception of + the ideal magazine: + + Smooth paper, no advertisements whatsoever, the interior + illustrations done by an artist with the talent of a Paul + and a Wesso combined, and made in water colors, too. Then I + would only have such renowned Authors as Burroughs, MacIsaac + and a few others. I suppose that's the eternal dream of the + modern Editor, but who can say that you, Mr. Bates, won't + evolve Astounding Stories in the same manner. At any rate, + there's a goal to aim for.--Mortimer Weisinger, 266 Van + Cortlandt Ave., Bronx, N. Y. + + +_Guilty_ + + Dear Editor: + + You are hereby summoned to appear in Court on attempt of + murder. Following are the charges: Stopping my heart from + beating when I saw the smooth edges in Astounding Stories, + and making my heart miss five beats when I saw "The + Earthman's Burden" illustrated by Paul! + + I now think Astounding Stories has reached its highest peak. + Arthur J. Burks' story was a wow. I hope he works on a story + as he said he would in "The Readers' Corner" if he gets + enough requests. + + And Charles Willard Diffin! Here's a writer for you. I think + the first story he ever wrote was published in Astounding + Stories. Don't lose him. His "Holocaust" is his best, with + the probable exception of "The Power and the Glory." I don't + think the last mentioned ever got enough praise. I expect to + see it reprinted some day in The Golden Book Magazine. It's + distinctly smooth paper style. + + And of course Sewell Peaslee Wright's "John Hanson" stories + are top-notchers. + + And Ray Cummings. Must we mention his story? We all know + what to expect when we read one of his stories. I hope you + have another serial by him soon. + + I'm sure you'll be deluged with letters because of the even + edges and the illustrations by Paul (who should draw at + least two in every issue), but I hope you'll print my + letter, because I never had a letter of mine in print, and + want to get a thrill seeing this published.--Anthony + Caserta, 4575 Park Ave., New York, N. Y. + + +"_Very Pretty Problems Here_" + + Dear Editor: + + The letters by P. Schuyler, J. N. Mosleh, and Jackson Gee in + the last number sure do raise some very neat possibilities + in Science. Anent travel in time, just what would you, Mr. + Schuyler, expect to see if "John Doe" at 40 years (1931) + went back to 1892 and met "John Doe" of that date on Main + Street of his old home town? I suspect that two bodies + cannot simultaneously contain the same ego, constant-entity, + personality, or soul. + + Which brings me to Mr. Mosleh, to ask: Just how is the + self-realizant ego, which is conscious that "I am I" + unchangingly for life, in any sense a derivative of the + unstable, rapidly changing body? + + Mr. Burks and Mr. Lee elucidate a very pretty little problem + on the same lines. The cranial transplantation and the + "atomic patterns" are admittedly scientifically and + reasonably possible. But there is a real point of doubt: + Would the personality accompany the brain in + transplantation? True, the brain is the control room; but--? + + And would the "atomic patterns," perfectly as they could + duplicate a body, which is unstable by nature, work on the + essentially stable ego (relatively) with its inherent + capacity for continuity? + + If not, would not the synthetic "Extra Man" be a human being + minus personality? Some very pretty problems here. I'd much + like to see a story along the lines of item 3 in Mr. Burks' + letter.--L. Partridge, Box 84, Cornish, Me. + + +_What Price Smoothness?_ + + Dear Editor: + + I have just finished the June issue of Astounding Stories. + The cover was excellent, as were all the illustrations, + except perhaps Manape's arms should have been a little + larger. + + I see that the edges of the paper are now smooth, but still + the leaves stick out beyond one another, so what good does + that do? + + "Manape the Mighty," by Arthur J. Burks, was superb, + gripping. I suppose a lot of Readers will rise violently + against the love interest, but, I ask you, just where would + this particular story be without the romance in it? This + particular story, you understand; not every story. + + "Holocaust," by Charles Willard Diffin, was next best with + "The Man from 2071" a close second. + + "The Earthman's Burden" was at least entertaining, which + this installment of "The Exile of Time" was not.--Robert + Baldwin, 359 Hazel Ave., Highland Park, Ill. + + +_Time Trouble Answers Wanted_ + + Dear Editor: + + I have read your magazine for nearly two years, but this is + my first letter to the "Corner." The first and second + installments of Ray Cummings' "Exile of Time" prompted me to + write this. There is a story you can well be proud of. I + should like to obtain it in book form. Mr. Cummings is a + wonder. I have read many time stories, but his is at the top + of my list. + + If there is any other "time" fan in A. S.'s "Readers' + Corner" I should like to have a letter discussion on it with + him. None of my acquaintances care a whoop about that type + of story, so I have to thrash out all my problems by myself. + + There are some questions I would like to ask about "The + Exile of Time." + + 1--In the event of the appearance of the time-traveling + cage, the story ran, to use Ray's own words: "Suddenly + before me there was a white ghost. A shape. A wraith of + something which a moment before had not been there. The + shape was like a mist. Then in a second or two it was + solid." + + Why should the cage appear as a mist at first? If there is + any amount of time separating two things, those two things + are invisible to each other, are they not? Any amount of + time would include a second, and even a millionth part of a + second. In that case, the cage should suddenly appear in the + twinkling of an eye, with no trace of a blur. + + 2--Supposing I were standing at a spot five feet from a + time-traveling vehicle. The latter would be traveling + through time at 3 P. M., while I am at 2 P. M.--an hour's + difference between us. It would be invisible to me then, but + an hour later when I would be at 3 P. M. and the machine at + 4 P. M., then I would see it as it appeared at 3 P. M. + Whatever movement it would make in space, I would not see + until an hour later. Is that right? Then is it not possible + that each individual is existing in a different time realm? + And we see them, or I see the other fellow as he appeared + when my time caught up with his? I had better quit before I + get hooted off the stage. + + 3--If a man invented a time-traveler and went back to the + year of the beginning of the World War, knowing all he has + read in history, could he not take steps to prevent a war + that has already happened? Or would that power be denied + him? Somewhere in the story is said that the past cannot be + changed, and that any effort to do so would be useless. In + my belief, no matter where or when a man goes into the past, + if he appears in a year or day that has already gone by, he + is changing the past. Then there should be no room for + doubt: time-travelling is impossible. It never will be done + (An Astounding Stories fan should be kicked for using the + word "impossible"!). + + Let's have more good thought-provoking time tales. And get + lots of stories from Cummings--he's a wow. I sure would like + to spend an evening at a campfire with him.--Allen Spoolman, + 613--4th Avenue, W., Ashland, Wisc. + + +"_Eh, What?_" + + Dear Editor: + + Just got my June issue of our good mag, Astounding Stories, + and I think that it is great. One thing you should do, + however, is have a more mechanical cover design. + + In regard to Miss Gertrude Hemkin's letter in the June issue + of A. S., let me say that I just wonder what she would like + to expect in our "The Readers' Corner" if she does not like + to hear what others think of our Astounding Stories. Maybe + she would like to read about checker debates or the like. + Eh, what? + + If Rex Wertz of Oregon, who is now located somewhere in Los + Angeles, will drop me a line, perhaps we can become + acquainted as he suggested.--Edward Anderson, 123 Hollister + Ave., Ocean Park, Cal. + + +_Hope He Does_ + + Dear Editor: + + I have never been interested before in a magazine enough to + write to their departments, like "The Readers' Corner," and + I have read plenty of magazines. + + "Beyond the Vanishing Point" stands head and shoulders above + any story I have ever read. I have only one thing to say + about your other stories: they are almost as good as the one + I just mentioned. + + I have a few words to say about these people who throw + brickbats at every story they read. I wouldn't be surprised + if they just read the story so they could find something + wrong with it. There's one in particular who wrote a few + lines in the June issue about your taking the word "science" + off the front page, saying there was no science in the + magazine, anyway. What does the title say? Well that's what + 90% of the Readers want, anyway. I hope that chap reads + this. + + Well, I'll sign off. Here is a little toast to the magazine: + "Long may it live."--Earl Rogers, 409--16th St., Galveston, + Tex. + + +_Two, Better Than One?_ + + Dear Editor: + + The two outstanding stories in the May issue of A. S. were + "The Death Cloud," by Nat Schachner and Arthur L. Zagat, and + "Dark Moon," by Charles W. Diffin. Common reasoning tells me + that the heads of two Science Fiction writers can formulate + a story better than one. I couldn't help admire Mr. + Schachner and Mr. Zagat when I read their story because of + the cleverness shown in it. + + Please give us a story by them every month.--Ray Y. Tilford, + Rockport, Ky. + + +"_And Here I Am_" + + Dear Editor: + + It's about time for me to concede that your or "our" + magazine is the best I have read. Ten issues have come into + my hands and I am perfectly well satisfied with the line of + fiction that you publish. I have read about fifty different + magazines on the market, and I am sure that Astounding + Stories is the best of them all. I have followed the + magazine for seven months and that is the best amount of + reading any magazine can boast for me. In your case, if the + magazine lasts seventy years, you can be sure that I will + read it for that period of time (provided I live that long). + + I notice that several brickbats have come into your hands + and that you have printed them. Well, that shows + sportsmanship on your part. I would suggest to those who are + not satisfied with Astounding Stories to duck their head in + a pail of water and pull it out after a period of ten + minutes. Those who criticize the stories because of the lack + of science have no idea what it takes to write a story. + Please be willing to concede the Author the right of way. He + is giving his theories and not yours. However, in some cases + where the truth is an established fact, I can see where the + Readers may present a justified argument. But they should + remember that we are not all perfect and that mistakes are + made by all. It is not fair to criticize an Author by + denouncing him. + + I don't favor reprints at all, but I can stay with the + majority if they do. It is a foregone conclusion that you + can fool some of the people some of the time, but you can't + fool all of the people all the time. In this case substitute + the word "please" in the saying for "fool." + + I am at present reading Charles W. Diffin's novel "The + Pirate Planet." It is one of the best interplanetary novels + that I have ever read. Give us some more of Diffin; he has + the goods. I must say that you have an immensely long list + of popular authors, and it must cost quite a little amount + of money to maintain them. + + Keep the size of the magazine as it is now; it fits + conveniently into my bookcase, and I believe many of your + Readers will say the same. + + Now some of my favorite stories. "The Ape-Men Of Xlotli" was + one of the best stories that I have read in years. Give us + some more along this line. It offers rest after one has just + finished reading an interplanetary novel. + + "Monsters of Moyen" was another story that I greatly + enjoyed. Very few people believe that the world shall ever + have a conqueror again, and I am one of them; but it is + interesting to see if there ever will be a conqueror and + what means he shall employ to get that title. + + "Brigands of the Moon" was the worst story I read in your + magazine. That must have been Mr. Cummings' off story. But + he certainly has come back fine through his later stories. + + "The Tentacles from Below" was another great masterpiece. + Anthony Gilmore's tale was the first that I have read of + that author, and I will be delighted to see more. + + Funny how I developed into a Reader of Science Fiction. I + exhausted all other fields of reading, and having nothing + else to read I delved into a science magazine and here I + am.--Michael Racano, 51 Brookwood St., East Orange, N. J. + + +_Turns to It First_ + + Dear Editor: + + The June issue of Astounding Stories can't be beat. What an + issue! As it seems to be the usual thing, I'll start at the + front and go to the back. + + The cover: very colorful: another proof of Wesso's talent. + And speaking of artists, I was very pleasantly surprised at + the unexpected illustration by Paul. I certainly hope you + can get him, if not for cover pictures, at least for the + inside illustrations. (Too bad you are modest about printing + complimentary letters, for I mean this to be all roses, no + brickbats.) + + "The Man from 2071"--another good story of "John Hanson's." + "Manape the Mighty," although somewhat like the Tarzan + series, is a wonderfully fine story. "Holocaust"--good. "The + Earthman's Burden," as all of Starzl's, was exceptionally + good. "The Exile of Time"--getting better every issue. + + "The Readers' Corner" as usual was one of the most + interesting parts of the magazine. I always turn to it + first, for I know I will have an enjoyable time reading + every letter. And, by the way, the significance of "Manape" + just came to me. Don't know why I didn't see it + before.--Linus Hogenmiller, 502 N. Washington St., + Farmington, Mo. + + +_Likes the "Joke"_ + + Dear Editor: + + Although I have read only two issues of Astounding Stories, + I feel the urge to write a line. The June number was better + than the May issue. Arthur J. Burks' story, "Manape the + Mighty," was excellent, though I am not so strong for the + idea of having Barter escape the apes and carry on his + experiments as suggested by the Author. It would be against + common sense to have the apes allow him to make a getaway. + The prize winner in the May issue was "Dark Moon." There + might be a sequel to that, and I'd like to see it. + + I like a little variety in a magazine. The Readers who say + they do not care for stories scientifically impossible may + be right; in that case "The Exile of Time" is the greatest + joke ever written--yet I like it immensely. One thing that + is impossible is the destruction of matter. It can be broken + up, or condensed as in "When Caverns Yawned," but not + destroyed completely. + + Mr. W. H. Flowers evidently has a grudge against the fair + sex. The love interest is not necessary in short stories, + it's true; but what kind of a long novel would it be if the + hero had no incentive, nothing to risk his life for, except + a possible word of praise from the scientific world? + + No matter how much a man loves his work it is my opinion + that he would not die for the purpose of proving his point. + + Not being able to take a hint, the knockers still appear to + mar an otherwise perfect day--this time in the person of + Harry Pancoast. If Astounding Stories ever gets so bad that + not even one story in it is of interest to me--I'll just + drop out of the waiting line--and keep my mouth + closed.--Richard Waite, 8 South Ave., Warsaw, N. Y. + + +_Never Noticed That_ + + Dear Editor: + + Just bought my latest copy of Astounding Stories, and what + an edition! First, the cover (Wesso has all others beat by a + mile). Then, the stories. Well, take "Manape the Mighty": it + is one of the best Science Fiction stories I have ever read. + "The Exile of Time" was great. + + Have you ever noticed that almost every critic of Science + Fiction is either a teacher or a female? Jim Nicholson and I + certainly know that.--Billy Roche, Sec. Interplanetary Dept. + of the B. S. B., 101 St. Elmo, San Francisco, Cal. + + +_Sunflowers for All_ + + Dear Editor: + + Miracles do happen! I was never so thoroughly astounded in + all my life as when I received the great June issue of "our" + magazine with _straight_ edges! Thank you and all concerned + for publishing "our" magazine sans rough edges. The smooth + edges ought to cut the reading time of Astounding Stories + down to an hour and forty-five minutes as we always used to + waste a lot of time fumbling about with the pages. + + But if I was astounded at the long awaited straight edges, I + was still more amazed at the great innovation of an + illustration by Paul! Let's have more and more of his + remarkable drawings. Astounding Stories is truly great now + with its fine Editor, splendid Authors, excellent stories, + worthy illustrations, essential "Readers' Corner," Paul + (Ah!) and good binding! Yes! You heard right! I said good + binding! Of course it makes amusing material to write about + the binding and remark that it comes off after once handling + it, or that the paper is soon worn to shreds, but such + matters shouldn't be honestly believed. I have every issue + of Astounding Stories (eighteen great numbers!) and each and + every issue is as good as new. I have never had any trouble + with the covers departing from the rest of the magazine or + the pages becoming moldy. + + Sewell Peaslee Wright's "The Man from 2071" is just perfect. + I enjoy nothing more than one of his realistic stories of + Commander John Hanson. We want more! Arthur J. Burks' + novelette, "Manape the Mighty," was clever. I had a + premonition that I wouldn't like this story, and in fact + told a friend so. It just goes to prove that hunches can be + wrong. Charles Willard Diffin should be proud of his + "Holocaust." I'm sure that most Readers enjoyed it as much + as I did. Of course, Starzl's "The Earthman's Burden" was a + peach. His stories of other planets are always weird, + bizarre, and yet they seem to ring true. That is the magic + of R. F. Starzl! Paul illustrated it in his own + unapproachable style. "The Exile of Time," as everyone + agrees, is Cummings' best. I am waiting for its thrilling + conclusion. + + I am one who would like Astounding Stories to be a large + size magazine, but it can easily be seen that everyone can't + be pleased. If you'll just leave it the way it is--i. e., + straight edges, illustrations by Paul, same authors and same + excellent Editor--I'll be satisfied.--Forrest J. Ackerman, + 530 Staples Ave., San Francisco, Cal. + + +"_Great Relief_" + + Dear Editor: + + The story, "Manape the Mighty," by Arthur J. Burks, was by + far one of the most thrilling and educational stories that + ever appeared in Astounding Stories. Of course, others will + disagree, but an Author cannot please all. It is of great + relief to change from the monotonous every day kind of + stories that appear in Collier's, Liberty and The Saturday + Evening Post to the refreshing and soothing "impossible" + type of A. S. + + Ever since the January issue, I've been an ardent pursuer of + Astounding Stories. To me it is even more astounding that I + seem to like it more and more each succeeding issue. I find + it, undoubtedly, the best magazine of its type. I've tried + others of similar type, but it seems as if my mind couldn't + grasp the knack of their stories, which were either boresome + with scientific and technical explanations, or, as one might + say, "not a darn thing to them." + + R. F. Starzl is a wonderful author. Ray Cummings, Sewell + Peaslee Wright, Charles Willard Diffin, Captain S. P. Meek, + Edmond Hamilton, F. V. W. Mason and Murray Leinster are + excellent. + + There is one thing that I'd like to see in Astounding + Stories, and I'm sure many of the Readers would, too. It is + always my habit to read while eating. To finish the story in + time, I pick the shortest one. Sad to say, Astounding has + rather long stories. How about an occasional short story? + I'm sure your readers will approve. They would go over with + a bang!--P. Nikolaioff, 4325 S. Seeley Ave., Chicago, Ill. + + +_Sometimes Gets Mad_ + + Dear Editor: + + Although I have been an interested reader of Astounding + Stories since its inception, this is the first time I have + written. Astounding Stories have been so good lately that I + just had to write and compliment you on your good work. + There are, however, some criticisms I have to make. The + first is: I think Mr. W. H. Flowers of Pittsburgh, Pa, is + right when he says you sometimes have too much love in some + of your stories. The second is, I think it would be a good + thing to put notes at the end of a page to explain some of + the terms for the Readers who read mostly for the science + part. That is what I do, and I get mad when I read something + that does not give me the inside dope on it. Outside of that + I think Astounding Stories can't be beat. + + One more thing before I close. Keep Capt. S. P. Meek on your + staff or I will stop reading Astounding Stories, as much as + I would hate to do that. I think he is your best author by a + long shot.--Wilson Adams, Seat Pleasant, Md. + + +_From a "Female Woman"_ + + Dear Editor: + + The comment of Jim Nicholson in the June issue that it is + only "the females" who consider him "cracked" for reading + Science Fiction, and only women who do not care for science + in the stories, moves me to break into "The Readers' Corner" + for the first time. + + I happen to be a "female woman," and it is the men in our + family and circle of friends who laugh at me for buying + every Science Fiction magazine and book that I can find. + They call them my "nutty magazines." I have to admit that I + do not understand much of the scientific explanation, since + my mind does not run along mathematical or scientific lines, + but I do not mind having that in stories, for those who do + care for it and can understand it, as I can simply skip over + it, taking what I can grasp and letting the rest go. It + doesn't spoil the story for me. + + I have no criticism, constructive or otherwise, to make. I + enjoy the stories with some romance involved, and enjoy + those without equally well. My own preference would be that + you continue using rough paper and your present mechanical + construction, so that more money will be available to pay + for the stories. Few of us keep the magazines anyway, so + there isn't so much need for expensive paper. I like + interplanetary stories best, I think; but I was intensely + interested in "Beyond the Vanishing Point," "Manape the + Mighty" and "Holocaust." All different, but all very good. I + can't remember one I did not like. + + My work requires much study and concentration. I have + recommended to several men who do similar mental work that + they follow my plan of securing delightful relaxation by + losing themselves in another world through Science Fiction + magazines. Most of them find it as restful as I + do.--Berenice M. Harrison, Angola, Ind. + + +_Likes R. F. Starzl_ + + Dear Editor: + + It has been my purpose to write to you before, but due to an + extraordinary amount of detail work which I have had to do, + I have been unable to. + + I have read your marvelous magazine ever since the first + issue came into my hands, and I can honestly say that there + is no other book on the market which has held my attention + as long as yours has. I congratulate you on your very + interesting magazine. + + Arthur J. Burks, in his latest story, has conceived an + entirely new type of story, and I, for one, think it very + interesting. Plenty of science for the laymen and enough + interest for the others. + + I liked R. F. Starzl's story, "The Earthman's Burden," very + much, and I hope you will have more by this author soon. His + stories are perfect. Starzl is a deep thinker, and I am + right here to say that there is a man who understands men + and men's longings and inhibitions.--A. W. Gowing, 17 + Pasadena St., Springfield, Mass. + + +"_The Readers' Corner_" + +All readers are extended a sincere and cordial invitation to "come +over in 'The Readers' Corner'" and join in our monthly discussion of +stories, authors, scientific principles and possibilities--everything +that's of common interest in connection with our Astounding Stories. + +Although from time to time the Editor may make a comment or so, this +is a department primarily for Readers, and we want you to make full +use of it. Likes, dislikes, criticisms, explanations, roses, +brickbats, suggestions--everything's welcome here; so "come over in +'The Readers' Corner'" and discuss it with all of us! + + _The Editor._ + + * * * * * + + +A LIVING, DISEMBODIED HEART + + +A disembodied heart, not only still steadily beating but writing, as +it throbbed, a permanent, minutely precise record of its pulsations, +was exhibited recently at Princeton in a demonstration of the newest +instrument developed by science for the advancement of medicine and +psychology. + +The device, invented by A. L. Loomis of Tuxedo Park, N. Y., and +perfected in collaboration with Dr. Edmund N. Harvey, professor of +psychology at Princeton University, is called the Loomis chronograph. + +It will facilitate study of the phenomena of heart action and the +effect of drugs on that vital organ. The chronograph opens the way to +the accurate measuring and recording of the speed and variation of +human heart beats over long periods, even during the sleeping hours of +the subject, which is expected to prove of great value to +physiologists and criminologists. + +The heart of the recent demonstration was that of a turtle, removed +from the reptile while alive, freed of all extraneous tissue and +suspended in a physiological salt solution exactly duplicating body +conditions. In this state the organ continues to beat for thirty-six +hours, at the same time setting down, by means of the chronograph, a +graphic history of the approximately 72,000 pulsations it makes in +that time. With each beat the tiny organism pulled down a little lever +that dipped a fine filament into a drop of mercury and made a contact +that transmitted an electric impulse to the chronograph. There it was +translated to a fraction of a second into a record inked on a chart. + +Introduction into the solution of nicotine--one part in 10,000--and of +adrenalin--one part in a billion--was immediately noted by a marked +retarding of the heart tempo in the first case and swift acceleration +in the second. + +Use of the chronograph to study the action of any heart that can be +removed from the living body is possible, the scientist said, adding +that a comparatively simple adjustment will make possible recording of +the human heart by a device applied to the chest. + +Application of the instrument to tests of human nerve reactions and to +psychological tests is forecast. + + * * * * * + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Astounding Stories, August, 1931, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ASTOUNDING STORIES, AUGUST, 1931 *** + +***** This file should be named 33016-8.txt or 33016-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/0/1/33016/ + +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. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Astounding Stories, August, 1931 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: June 28, 2010 [EBook #33016] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ASTOUNDING STORIES, AUGUST, 1931 *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 360px;"><a name="Cover" id="Cover"></a> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Cover" width="360" height="540" /></div> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/image_001.jpg" width="500" height="212" alt="Cover" /> +</div> + +<h1>ASTOUNDING</h1> + <h2>STORIES</h2> + +<h3>20¢</h3> + +<h3><i>On Sale the First Thursday of Each Month</i></h3> +<p>W. M. CLAYTON, Publisher; HARRY BATES, Editor</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h3>The Clayton Standard on a Magazine Guarantees</h3> +<blockquote><p><i>That</i> the stories therein are clean, interesting, vivid, by +leading writers of the day and purchased under conditions +approved by the Authors' League of America;</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> +<img src="images/image_002.jpg" width="150" height="280" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p><i>That</i> such magazines are manufactured in Union shops by +American workmen;</p> + +<p><i>That</i> each newsdealer and agent is insured a fair profit;</p> + +<p><i>That</i> an intelligent censorship guards their advertising +pages.</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>The other Clayton magazines are</i>:</p> + +<p class="center"> +ACE-HIGH MAGAZINE, RANCH ROMANCES, COWBOY STORIES, CLUES, FIVE-NOVELS +MONTHLY, ALL STAR DETECTIVE STORIES, RANGELAND LOVE STORY +MAGAZINE, WESTERN ADVENTURES, WESTERN LOVE STORIES and JUNGLE STORIES. +</p> + +<p><i>More than Two Million Copies Required to Supply the Monthly Demand +for Clayton Magazines.</i></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>VOL. VII, No. 2 CONTENTS August, 1931</h2> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<table summary="Contents"> +<tr><td><a href="#The_Danger_from_the_Deep">THE DANGER FROM THE DEEP</a></td> +<td>RALPH MILNE FARLEY</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_149">149</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" class="td1"><i>Marooned on the Sea-Floor, His Hoisting Cable Cut, Young Abbot Is Left at the Mercy of the Man-Sharks.</i></td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#Brood_of_the_Dark_Moon">BROOD OF THE DARK MOON</a></td> +<td>CHARLES WILLARD DIFFIN</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_168">168</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" class="td1"><i>Once More Chet, Walt and Diane Are United in a Wild Ride to the Dark Moon. But This Time They Go as Prisoners of Their Deadly Enemy Schwartzmann.</i> (Beginning a Four-Part Novel.)</td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#If_The_Sun_Died">IF THE SUN DIED</a></td> +<td>R. F. STARZL</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_198">198</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" class="td1"><i>Tens of Millenniums After the Death of the Sun There Comes a Young Man Who Dares to Open the Frozen Gate of Subterranea.</i></td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#The_Midget_From_the_Island">THE MIDGET FROM THE ISLAND</a></td> +<td>H. G. WINTER</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_214">214</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" class="td1"><i>Garth Howard, Prey to Half the Animals of the Forest, Fights Valiantly to Regain His Lost Five Feet of Size.</i> A Complete Novelette.)</td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#The_Moon_Weed">THE MOON WEED</a></td> +<td>HARL VINCENT</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_236">236</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" class="td1"><i>Unwittingly the Traitor of the Earth, Van Pits Himself Against the Inexorably Tightening Web of Plant-Beasts He Has Released from the Moon.</i></td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#The_Port_of_Missing_Planes">THE PORT OF MISSING PLANES</a></td> +<td>CAPTAIN S. P. MEEK</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_255">255</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" class="td1"><i>In the Underground Caverns of the Selom, Dr. Bird Once Again Locks Wills with the Subversive Genius, Saranoff.</i></td><td></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#The_Readers_Corner">THE READERS CORNER</a></td> +<td>ALL OF US</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_273">273</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" class="td1"><i>A Meeting Place for Readers of Astounding Stories</i></td><td></td></tr> +</table> + + +<p><b>Single Copies, 20 Cents (In Canada, 25 Cents) Yearly Subscription, +$2.00</b></p> + +<p>Issued monthly by The Clayton Magazines, Inc., 80 Lafayette St., +New York. N. Y. W. M. Clayton, President; Francis P. Pace, Secretary. +Entered as second-class matter December 7, 1929, at the Post Office at +New York, N. Y., under Act of March 3, 1879. Title registered as a +Trade Mark in the U. S. Patent Office. Member Newsstand Group. For +advertising rates address The Newsstand Group, Inc., 80 Lafayette +Street, New York; or The Wrigley Bldg., Chicago.</p> + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="The_Danger_from_the_Deep" id="The_Danger_from_the_Deep"></a>The Danger from the Deep</h2> + +<h3><i>By Ralph Milne Farley</i></h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/image_003.jpg" width="450" height="533" alt="He caught a glimpse of the grinning fish-face." title="" /> +<span class="caption">He caught a glimpse of the grinning fish-face.</span> +</div> +<p> </p> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_w1.jpg" alt="W" width="56" height="50" /></div> +<p>ithin a thick-walled sphere of steel eight feet in diameter, with +crystal-clear fused-quartz windows, there crouched an alert young +scientist, George Abbot. The sphere rested on the primeval muck and +slime at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, one mile beneath the +surface.</p> + +<div class="sidenote">Marooned on the sea-floor, his hoisting cable cut, young +Abbot is left at the mercy of the man-sharks.</div> + +<p>The beam from his 200-watt searchlight, which shot out through one of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>his three windows into the dark blue depths beyond, seemed faint +indeed, yet it served to illuminate anything which crossed it, or on +which it fell.</p> + +<p>For a considerable length of time since his descent to the ocean +floor, young Abbot had clung to one of the thick windows of his +bathysphere, absorbed by the marine life outside. Slender small fish +with stereoscopic eyes, darted in and out of the beam of light. +Swimming snails floated by, carrying their own phosphorescent +lanterns. Paper-thin transparent crustaceans swam into view, followed +by a few white shrimps, pale as ghosts. Then a mist of tiny fish swept +across his field of vision. Abbot cupped his face in his hands, and +stared out.</p> + +<p>The incongruous thought flashed across his mind that thus he had often +sat by the window of his club in New York, and gazed out at the +passing motor traffic.</p> + +<p>His searchlight cut a sharp swath through the blue muck. More than +once he thought he saw large moving fish-like forms far away.</p> + +<p>"Speed up the generator," he called into his phone.</p> + +<p>Immediately the shaft of light brightened. He set about trying to +focus upon one of those dim elusive shapes which had so intrigued him.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_b.jpg" alt="B" width="34" height="40" /></div> +<p>ut suddenly the searchlight went out! Intent on repairing the +apparatus as rapidly as possible, Abbot snapped the button-switch, +which ought to have illuminated the interior of his diving-sphere; but +the lights did not go on. Then he noticed that the electric fan, on +which he depended to keep his air-supply properly mixed, had stopped.</p> + +<p>He spoke into the telephone transmitter, which hung in front of his +mouth: "Hi, there, up on the boat! My electric power is cut off. I'm +down here with my fan stopped and my heat cut off. Hoist me up, and be +quick about it!"</p> + +<p>"O.K., sir."</p> + +<p>As the young man waited for the winch to get under way on the boat a +mile above him, he pulled out his electric pocket flashlight and sent +its feeble ray out through his quartz-glass window into the dim +royal-purple depths beyond, in one last attempt to get a look at those +mysterious fish-shapes which had so intrigued him.</p> + +<p>And then he saw one of them distinctly.</p> + +<p>Evidently they had swum closer when the glow of his searchlight had +stopped; and so the sudden flash of his pocket-light had taken them by +surprise.</p> + +<p>For, as he snapped it on, he caught an instant's glimpse of a grinning +fish-face pressed close against the outside of his thick window-pane, +as though trying to peer in at him. The fish-face somewhat resembled +the head of a shark, except that the mouth was a bit smaller and not +quite so leeringly brutal, and the forehead was rather high and domed.</p> + +<p>But what most attracted Abbot's attention, in the brief instant before +the startled fish whisked away in a swirl of phosphorescent foam, was +the fact that, from beneath each of the two pectoral fins, there +protruded what appeared to be a skinny human arm, terminating in three +fingers and a thumb!</p> + +<p>Then the fish was gone. Abbot snapped off his little light.</p> + +<p>The diving-sphere quivered, as the hoisting-cable tautened. But +suddenly the sphere settled back to the bottom of the sea with a +jarring thud. "Cable's parted, sir!" spoke a frantic voice in his +ear-phones.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_f.jpg" alt="F" width="33" height="40" /></div> +<p>or a moment George Abbot sat stunned with horror. Then his mind began +to race, like a squirrel in a cage, seeking some way of escape.</p> + +<p>Perhaps he could manage to unscrew the 400-pound trap door at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> top +of the sphere, and shoot to the surface, with the bubbling-out of the +confined air. But his scientifically trained mind made some rapid +calculations which showed him this was absurd.</p> + +<p>At the depth of a mile, the pressure is roughly 156 atmospheres, that +is to say, 156 times the air-pressure at the surface of the earth; and +the moment that his sphere was opened to this pressure, he would be +blown back inwardly away from the man-hole, and the air inside his +sphere would suddenly be compressed to only 1/156 of its former +volume.</p> + +<p>Not only would this pressure be sufficient to squash him into a +mangled pulp, but also the sudden compression of the air inside the +sphere would generate enough heat to fry that mangled pulp to a crisp +cinder almost instantly.</p> + +<p>As George Abbot came to a full realization of the horror of these +facts, he recoiled from the trap-door as though it were charged with +death.</p> + +<p>"For Heaven's sakes, do something!" he shrieked in agony into the +transmitter.</p> + +<p>"Courage, sir," came back the reply. "We are rigging up a grapple just +as fast as we can. Long before your oxygen gives out, we shall slide +it down to you along the telephone line, which is the only remaining +connection between us. When it settles about your sphere, and you can +see its hooks outside your window by the light of your pocket-flash, +let us know, and we'll trip the grapple and haul you up."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," replied the young man.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>e was calm now, but it was an enforced and numb kind of calmness. +Mechanically he throttled down his oxygen supply, so as to make it +last longer. Mechanically he took out his notebook and pencil and +started to write down, in the dark, his experiences; for he was +determined to leave a full account for posterity, even though he +himself should perish.</p> + +<p>After setting down a categorical description of the successive +partings of the electric light cable and the hoist cable, and his +thoughts and feelings in that connection, he described in detail the +shark with hands, which he had seen through the window of his sphere. +He tried to be very explicit about this, for he realized that his +account would probably be laid, by everyone, to the disordered +imagination of his last dying moments; being a true scientist, George +Abbot wanted the world to believe him, so that another sphere would be +built and sent down to the ocean depths, to find out more about these +peculiar denizens of the deep.</p> + +<p>Of course, no one would believe him. This thought kept drumming in his +ears. No one—except Professor Osborne. Old Osborne would believe!</p> + +<p>George Abbot's mind flashed back to a conversation he had had with the +old professor, just before the oil interests had sent him on this +exploring trip to discover the source of the large quantities of +petroleum which had begun to bubble up from the bottom of a certain +section of the Pacific very near where Abbot now was.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_o.jpg" alt="O" width="35" height="40" /></div> +<p>sborne had said, "This petroleum suggests a gusher to me. And what +causes gushers? Human beings, boring for oil, to satisfy human needs."</p> + +<p>"But, Professor," Abbot had objected, "there can't be any human beings +at the bottom of the sea!"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" Professor Osborne had countered. "Life is supposed to have +originated spontaneously in the slime of the ocean depths; therefore +that part of the earth has had a head-start on us in the game of +evolution. May not this head-start have been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> maintained right down to +date, thus producing at the bottom of the sea a race superior to +anything upon the dry land?"</p> + +<p>"But," Abbot had objected further, "if so, why haven't they come up to +visit or conquer us? And why haven't we ever found any trace of them?"</p> + +<p>"Quite simple to explain," the old professor had replied. "Any +creature who can live at the frightful pressures of the ocean depths +could never survive a journey even halfway to the surface. It would be +like our trying to live in an almost perfect vacuum. We should +explode, and so would these denizens of the deep, if they tried to +come up here. Even one of their dead bodies could not be brought to +the surface in recognizable form. No contact with them will ever be +possible, nor will they ever constitute a menace to any one—for which +we may thank the Lord!"</p> + +<p>George Abbot now reviewed this conversation as he crouched in his +diving-sphere in the purple darkness of the marine depths. Yes, old +Osborne would believe him. The diary must be written for Osborne's +eyes.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p>bbot sent another beam from his pocket light suddenly out into the +water; and this time he surprised several of the peculiar fish. These, +like the first, had arms and hands and high intelligent foreheads.</p> + +<p>Then suddenly Abbot laughed a harsh laugh. Old Osborne had been wrong +in one thing, namely in saying that the super-race of the deep would +never be a menace to anyone. They were being a menace to George Abbot, +right now, for it was undoubtedly they who had cut his cables. +Probably they were possessed of much the same scientific curiosity +with regard to him as he was with regard to them, and so they had +determined to secure him as a museum specimen.</p> + +<p>The idea was a weird one. He laughed again, mirthlessly.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, sir?" came an anxious voice in his ear-phones.</p> + +<p>"Hurry that grapple!" was his reply. "I have found out what cut my +cables. There are some very intelligent-looking fish down here, and I +think they want me for—"</p> + +<p>An ominous click sounded in his ears. Then silence.</p> + +<p>"Hello! Hello there!" he shouted. "Can you hear me up on the boat?"</p> + +<p>But no answer came back. The line remained dead. The strange fish had +cut George Abbot's last contact with the upper world. The +grapple-hooks could never find him now, for there was now not even a +telephone cable to guide them down to his sphere.</p> + +<p>The realization that he was hopelessly lost, and that he had not much +longer to live, came as a real relief to him, after the last few +moments of frantic uncertainty.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>oping that his sphere would eventually be found, even though too late +to do him any good, he set assiduously to work jotting down all the +details which he could remember of those strange denizens of the deep, +the man-handed sharks, which he was now firmly convinced were the +cause of his present predicament.</p> + +<p>He stared out through one of his windows into the brilliant blue +darkness, but did not turn on his flashlight. How near were these +enemies of his, he wondered?</p> + +<p>The presence of those menacing man-sharks, just outside the +four-inch-thick steel shell, which withstood a ton of pressure for +each square inch of its surface, began to obsess young Abbot. What +were they doing out there in the watery-blue midnight? Perhaps, having +secured his sphere as a scientific specimen, they were already +preparing to cut into it so as to see what was inside. That<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> these +fish could cut through four inches of steel was not so improbable as +it sounded, for had they not already succeeded in severing a rubber +cable an inch and a half thick, containing two heavy copper wires, and +also two inches of the finest, non-kinking steel rope!</p> + +<p>The young scientist flashed his pocket torch out through the thick +quartz pane, but his enemies were nowhere in sight. Then he fell to +calculating his oxygen supply. His normal consumption was about half a +quart per minute, at which rate his two tanks would be good for +thirty-six hours. His chemical racks contained enough soda-lime to +absorb the excess carbon dioxide, enough calcium chloride to keep down +the humidity and enough charcoal to sweeten the body odors for much +more than that period.</p> + +<p>For a moment, the thought of these facts encouraged him. He had been +down less than two hours. Perhaps the boat above him could affect his +rescue in the more than thirty-four hours which remained!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_b.jpg" alt="B" width="34" height="40" /></div> +<p>ut then he realized that he had failed to take into consideration the +near-freezing temperature of the ocean depths. This temperature he +knew to be in the neighborhood of 39 degrees Fahrenheit—even though +no thermometer hung outside his window, as none could withstand the +frightful pressures at the bottom of the sea. For it is one of the +remarkable facts of inductive science that man has been able to figure +out <i>a priori</i> that the temperature at all deep points of the ocean, +tropic as well as arctic, must always be stable at approximately 39 +degrees.</p> + +<p>Abbot was clad only in a light cotton sailor suit, and now that his +source of heat had been cut off by the severing of his power lines, +his prison was rapidly becoming unbearably chilly. His thick steel +sphere constituted such a perfect transmitter of heat that he might +almost as well have been actually swimming in water of 39 degrees +temperature, so far as comfort was concerned.</p> + +<p>Abbot's emotions ran all the gamut from stupefaction, through dull +calmness, clear-headed thought, intense but aimless mental activity, +nervousness, frenzy, and insane delirium, back to stupefaction again.</p> + +<p>During one of his periods of calmness, he figured out what an almost +total impossibility there was of the chance that his ship, one mile +above him on the surface, could ever find his sphere with grappling +hooks. Yet he prayed for that chance. A single chance in a million +sometimes does happen.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_s.jpg" alt="S" width="26" height="40" /></div> +<p>everal hours had by now elapsed since the parting of the young +scientist's cables. It was bitterly cold inside the sphere. In order +to keep warm, he had to exercise during his calm moments as +systematically as his cramped quarters would permit. During his +frantic moments he got plenty of exercise automatically. And of course +all this movement used up more than the normal amount of oxygen, so +that he was forced to open the valves on his tanks to two or three +times their normal flow. His span of further life was thereby cut to +ten or twelve hours, if indeed he could keep himself warm for that +long.</p> + +<p>Why didn't the people on the boat do something!</p> + +<p>He was just about to indulge in one of his frantic fits of despair, +when he heard or felt—the two senses being strangely commingled in +his present situation—a clank or thump upon the top of his +bathysphere. Instantly hope flooded him. Could it be that the one +chance in a million had actually happened, and that a grapple from the +boat above had actually found him?</p> + +<p>With feverish expectation, he pressed the button of his little +electric<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> pocket flashlight, and sent its feeble beam out through one +of the quartz-glass windows into the blue-black depths beyond.</p> + +<p>No hooks in front of this window. He tried the others. No hooks there, +either. But he did see plenty of the superhuman fish. Eighteen of +them, he counted, in sight at one time. And also two huge snake-like +creatures with crested backs and maned heads, veritable sea-serpents.</p> + +<p>As there was nothing the young man could do to assist in the grappling +of his sphere by his friends in the boat above, he devoted his time to +jotting down a detailed description of these two new beasts and of +their behavior.</p> + +<p>One of the sharks appeared to be leading or driving them up to the +bathysphere; and when they got close enough, Abbot was surprised to +see that they wore what appeared to be a harness!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he clanking upon the bathysphere continued, and now the young man +learned its cause. It was not the grapple hooks from his ship, but +chains—chains which the man-armed sharks were wrapping around the +bathysphere.</p> + +<p>Two more of the harnessed sea-serpents swam into view, and these two +were hitched to a flat cart: an actual cart with wheels. The chains +were attached to the harness of the original two beasts; they swam +upward and disappeared from view; and the sphere slowly rose from the +mucky bottom of the sea, to be lowered again squarely on top of the +cart. The cart jerked forward, and a journey over the ocean floor +began.</p> + +<p>Then the little pocket torch dimmed to a dull red glow, and the scene +outside faded gradually from view. Abbot switched off the now useless +light and set to work with scientific precision to record all these +unbelievable events.</p> + +<p>In his interest and excitement, he had forgotten the ever-increasing +cold; but gradually, as he wrote, the frigidity of his surroundings +was forced on his consciousness. He turned on more oxygen, and +exercised frantically. Meanwhile the cart, carrying his bathysphere, +bumped along over an uneven road.</p> + +<p>From time to time, he tried his almost exhausted little light, but its +dim red beam was completely absorbed by the blue of the ocean depths, +and he could make out nothing except two bulking indistinct shapes, +writhing on ahead of him. Finally even this degree of visibility +failed, and he could see absolutely nothing outside.</p> + +<p>He was now so chilled and numb that he could no longer write. With a +last effort, he noted down that fact, and then put the book away in +its rack.</p> + +<p>He began to feel drowsy. Rousing himself, he turned on more oxygen. +The effect was exhilaration and a feeling of silly joy. He began to +babble drunkenly to himself. His head swam. His mind was in a daze.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i.jpg" alt="I" width="16" height="40" /></div> +<p>t seemed hours later when he awoke. Ahead of him in the distance +there was a dim pale-blue light, against which there could be seen, in +silhouette, the forms of the two serpentine steeds and their fish-like +drivers. Abbot's hands and feet were completely numb, but his head was +clear.</p> + +<p>As they drew nearer to the light, it gradually took form, until it +turned out to be the mouth of a cave. The cart entered it.</p> + +<p>Down a long tunnel they progressed, the light getting brighter and +brighter as they advanced. The color of the light became a golden +green. The rough stone walls of the tunnel could now be seen; and +finally there appeared, ahead, two semicircular doors, swung back +against the sides of the passage.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beyond these doors, the tunnel walls were smooth and exactly +cylindrical, and on the ceiling there were many luminous tubes, which +lit up the place as brightly as daylight. The cart came to a stop.</p> + +<p>The young scientist could now see with surprising distinctness his +captors and their serpentine steeds, and even the details of the +chains and the harness. He tried to pick up his diary, so as to jot +down some points which he had theretofore missed; but his hands were +too numb. But at least he could keep on observing; so he glued his +eyes to the thick quartz window-pane once more.</p> + +<p>A short distance ahead in the passage there was another pair of doors. +Presently these swung open and the cavalcade moved forward. Five or +six successive pairs of doors were passed in this manner, and then the +sea-serpents began to thrash about and become almost unmanageable. It +was evident that some change not to their liking had taken place in +their surroundings.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p>t last, as one of the portals swung open, young Abbot saw what +appeared to be four deep-sea diving-suits. Could these suits contain +human beings? And if so, who? It seemed incredible, for no diving-suit +had ever been devised in which a man could descend to the depth of one +mile, and live.</p> + +<p>These four figures, whatever they were, came stolidly forward and took +charge of the cart. One of the sharks swam up to them and appeared to +talk to them with its hands. Then the sharks unhitched the two +sea-serpents and led them to the rear, and Abbot saw them no more.</p> + +<p>The four divers picked up the chains, and slowly towed the cart +forward, their clumsy, ponderous movements contrasting markedly with +the swift and sure swishings which had characterized the man-sharks +and their snake-like steeds.</p> + +<p>Several more pairs of doors were passed, and then there met them four +figures in less cumbersome diving-suits, like those ordinarily used by +men just below the surface of the sea. One of the deep-sea divers then +pressed his face close to the outside of one of the windows of the +bathysphere, as though to take a look inside; but the four newcomers +waved him away, and hurriedly picked up the chains. Nevertheless, in +that brief instant, Abbot had seen within the head-piece of the diver +what appeared to be a bearded human face.</p> + +<p>Several more pairs of doors were passed. The four deep-sea divers +floundered along beside the cart, quite evidently having more and more +difficulty of locomotion as each successive doorway was passed, until +finally they lay down and were left behind.</p> + +<p>At last the procession entered a section of tunnel which was square, +instead of circular, and in which there was a wide shelf along one +side about three feet above the floor. The four divers then dropped +the chains, and one by one took a look at Abbot through his window.</p> + +<p>And he at the same time took a most interested look at them.</p> + +<p>They had unmistakable human faces!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>e must be dreaming! For even if Osborne was right about his supposed +super-race at the bottom of the sea, this race could not be human, for +the pressures here would be entirely too great. No human being could +possibly stand two thousand pounds per square inch!</p> + +<p>Having satisfied their curiosity, the four divers pulled themselves up +onto the shelf, and sat there in a row with their legs hanging over.</p> + +<p>Abbot glanced upward at the ceiling lights, but these had become +strangely blurred. There seemed to be an opaque barrier above him, and +this barrier seemed to be slowly descending.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> The lights blurred out +completely, and were replaced by a diffused illumination over the +entire ripply barrier. And then it dawned on the young man that this +descending sheet of silver was the surface of the water. He was in a +lock, and the water was being pumped out.</p> + +<p>The surface settled about the helmets of the divers, and their helmets +disappeared; then their shoulders and the rest of them. At last it +reached the level of Abbot's window. The divers could again be seen, +and among then on the shelf there stood a half dozen naked bearded +men, clad only in loin-cloths. They had evidently entered the lock +while the water was subsiding.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>hese men unbuckled the helmets of the divers and helped them out, and +then splashed down into the water and peered in through the windows of +the bathysphere. Presently some of them left through a door at the end +of the platform, but soon reappeared with staging, which they set up +around the sphere. Then, climbing on top, they got to work on the +man-hole cover.</p> + +<p>As George Abbot realized their purpose, he became frantic. Although +these men appeared to be human, just like himself, yet his +scientifically-trained mind told him that they must be of some very +special anatomical structure, in order to be able to withstand the +immense pressures at the bottom of the Pacific. It was all right for +them to be out there, but it would be fatal to him!</p> + +<p>And then the heavy circular door above him began slowly to revolve.</p> + +<p>This was terrible! In a moment the crushing pressures of the depths +would come seeping in. Rising unsteadily upon his knees, the young man +tried with his fingers to resist the rotation of the door; but it +continued to turn.</p> + +<p>Yet no pressure could be felt. The door became completely unscrewed. +It was pried up, and slid off the top of the bathysphere, to crash +upon the floor outside. Inquisitive bearded faces peered down through +the hole.</p> + +<p>Young Abbot slumped to the cold bottom of the sphere and stared back +at them. He was saved; incredibly saved! These were real people, the +air was real air and he must therefore be on the surface of the earth, +instead of at the bottom of the Pacific as he had imagined! With a +sigh of relief, he fainted....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_w.jpg" alt="W" width="48" height="40" /></div> +<p>hen he came to his senses again, he was lying in a bed in a small +room. Bending over him was the sweetest feminine face that he had ever +seen.</p> + +<p>The girl seemed to be about twenty years of age. She was clad in a +clinging robe of some filmy green substance. Her hair was honey-brown, +short and curly, and her forehead high and intelligent. Her eyes, an +indescribable shade of deep violet, were matchlessly set off by her +ivory skin.</p> + +<p>The young man smiled up at her, and she smiled back. Thus far it had +not occurred to him to wonder where he was, or why. No recollection of +his recent strange adventures came to him. To him this was an exotic +dream, from which he did not care to awake.</p> + +<p>She spoke. Her words were unintelligible, and unlike any language +which George Abbot knew or had even heard; and he was an accomplished +linguist in addition to his other attainments.</p> + +<p>And her words were not all that was strange about her speech, for the +very tones of her voice sounded completely unhuman, although not +displeasing. Her talk had a metallic ring to it, like the brassy blare +of temple gongs, and yet was so smooth and subdued as to be sweeter +than any sound that the young scientist had ever heard before.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Beautiful dream fairy," replied the enraptured young man, "I haven't +the slightest idea what you are saying, but keep right on. I like it."</p> + +<p>His own voice sounded crass and crude compared to hers. At his first +words she gave a start of surprise, but thereafter the sound did not +appear to grate on her ears.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>hen one of the bearded men in loin-cloths entered, and he and the +girl talked together, quite evidently about their patient. The man's +voice had the same strange metallic quality to it as that of the girl, +but was deeper, so that it boomed with the rich notes of a bell.</p> + +<p>At the sight of the man, young Abbot's memory swept back, and he +remembered the adventure of his diving-sphere, and its capture, one +mile down, by the strange shark-fish with human hands and arms. But +how he had reached the surface of the earth again, he couldn't figure +out. Nor did he particularly care.</p> + +<p>The strange man withdrew, and the girl sat down beside the bed and +smiled at Abbot. He smiled back at her.</p> + +<p>Presently another girl entered and called, "Milli!"</p> + +<p>The girl beside the bed started, and looking up asked some question, +to which the other replied.</p> + +<p>The newcomer brought in some strange warm food in a covered dish and +then withdrew. The first girl proceeded to feed her patient.</p> + +<p>After the meal, which tasted unlike anything which the young man had +ever eaten before, the beautiful nurse again essayed conversation with +him. She seemed perplexed and a bit frightened that he could not +understand her words. Somehow, the young man sensed that this girl had +never heard any other language than her own, and that she did not even +know that other languages existed.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_s.jpg" alt="S" width="26" height="40" /></div> +<p>trengthened by his food, he determined to set about learning her +language as soon as possible. So he pointed at her and asked, "Milli?"</p> + +<p>She nodded, and spoke some word which he took for "yes."</p> + +<p>Then he pointed to himself and said, "George."</p> + +<p>She understood, but the word was a difficult one for her to duplicate +in the metallic tongue of her people. She made several attempts, until +he laughingly spoke her word for "yes."</p> + +<p>Then he pointed to other objects about the room. She gave him the +names of these, but he could easily see that she felt that, if he did +not know the names for all these common things, there must be +something the matter with him.</p> + +<p>He wondered how he could make her understand that there were other +languages in the world than her own; and then he remembered the sharks +with their hands and what he had taken to be their sign language. +Perhaps Milli at least knew of the existence of the sign language. +This would afford a parallel; for if she realized that there were two +languages in the world, might there not be three?</p> + +<p>So Abbot made some meaningless signs with his fingers. Milli quite +evidently was accustomed to this kind of talk, but she was further +perplexed to find that George talked gibberish with his hands as well +as with his mouth.</p> + +<p>She made some signs with her hands, and then said something orally. +Young Abbot instantly pointed to her mouth, and held up one finger; +then to her hands, and held up two; then to his own mouth, and held up +three, at the same time speaking a sentence of English. Instantly she +caught on: there were three languages in the world. And thereafter she +no longer regarded him as crazy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p> + +<p>For several hours she taught him. Then another meal was brought, after +which she left him, and the lights went out.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>e awakened feeling thoroughly rested and well. The lights were on and +Milli was beside him.</p> + +<p>He asked for his clothes. They were brought. Milli withdrew and he put +them on.</p> + +<p>After breakfast, which they ate together, one of the bearded men came +and led him out through a number of winding corridors into a larger +room, in which there was a closed spherical glass tank, about ten feet +in diameter, containing one of the human sharks. Around the tank stood +five of the bearded men.</p> + +<p>One of them proceeded to address Abbot, but of course the young +American could not make out what he was saying. This apparent lack of +intelligence seemed to exasperate the man; and finally he turned +toward the tank, and engaged in a sign language conference with the +fish; then turned back to Abbot again and spoke to him very sternly.</p> + +<p>But Abbot shook his head and replied, "Milli. Bring Milli."</p> + +<p>One of the other men flashed a look of triumph at their leader, and +laughed.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he added, "bring Milli."</p> + +<p>The leader scowled at him, and some words were interchanged, but it +ended in Milli being sent for. She apparently explained the situation +to the satisfaction of the fish, to the intense glee of the man who +had sent for her, and to the rather complete discomfiture of the +leader of the five.</p> + +<p>Abbot later learned that the leader's name was Thig, and that the name +of the gleeful man was Dolf.</p> + +<p>The reception over, Milli led Abbot back to his room.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>here ensued many days—very pleasant days—of language instruction +from Milli. Dolf and Thig and others of the five came frequently, to +note his progress and to talk with him and ask him questions.</p> + +<p>A sitting room was provided for him, adjoining his sleeping quarters. +Milli occupied quarters nearby.</p> + +<p>Within a week he had mastered enough of the language of these people, +for their strange history began to be intelligible to him.</p> + +<p>In spite of the fact that the air here was at merely atmospheric +pressure, nevertheless this place was one mile beneath the surface of +the Pacific. Milli and her people lived in a city hollowed out of a +reef of rocks, reinforced against the terrific weight of the water and +filled with laboratory-made air. They had never been to the surface of +the sea.</p> + +<p>The fish with the human arms were their creators and their masters.</p> + +<p>Professor Osborne had been right. The fish of the deep, having a head +start on the rest of the world, had evolved to a perfectly +unbelievable degree of intelligence. Centuries ago they had built for +themselves the exact analog of George Abbot's bathysphere, and in it +they had made much the same sort of exploring trips to the surface +that he had made down into the deeps. But their spheres had been +constructed to keep in, rather than to keep out, great pressure.</p> + +<p>Their scientists had gathered a wealth of data as to conditions on the +surface, and had even seen and studied human beings. But their +insatiable scientific curiosity had led them to want to know more +about the strange country above them and the strange persons who +inhabited it. And so they set about breeding, in their own +laboratories, creatures which should be as like as possible to those +whom they had observed on the surface.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_o.jpg" alt="O" width="35" height="40" /></div> +<p>f course, this experiment necessitated their first setting up an +air-filled partial vacuum similar to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> that which surrounds the earth. +But they had persisted. They had brought down samples of air from the +surface of the sea, and had analyzed and duplicated it on a large +scale.</p> + +<p>Finally, through long years, they had so directed—and controlled the +course of evolution, in their breederies, as first to be able to +produce creatures which could live in air at low pressures, and then +to evolve the descendants of those creatures into intelligent human +beings.</p> + +<p>Some of the lower types of this evolutionary process, both in the +direct line of descent of man, and among the collateral offshoots, had +been retained for food and other purposes. Abbot, with intense +scientific interest, studied these specimens in the zoo of the +underwater city where he was staying.</p> + +<p>Plans had been in progress for some time, among the fish-folk and +their human subjects, to send an expedition to the surface. And now +the shark masters had fortunately been able to secure alive an actual +specimen of the surface folk—namely, George Abbot. The expedition was +accordingly postponed until they could pump out of the young scientist +all the information possible.</p> + +<p>Abbot was naturally overjoyed at the prospect. This would not only get +him out of here—but think what it would mean to science!</p> + +<p>The plans of the sharks were entirely peaceful. Furthermore there were +only about two hundred of their laboratory-bred synthetic human +beings, and so these could constitute no menace to mankind. +Accordingly he enthusiastically assured them that they could depend +upon the hearty cooperation of the scientists of the outer earth.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_d.jpg" alt="D" width="36" height="40" /></div> +<p>uring all his stay so far in this cave city, Abbot had been permitted +to come in contact only with Milli, the members of the Committee of +Five, and an occasional guard or laboratory assistant. Yet, in spite +of the absence of personal contacts with other members of this strange +race, Abbot was constantly aware of a background of many people and +tense activity, which kept the wheels of industry and domestic economy +turning in this undersea city.</p> + +<p>Although the young man readily accustomed himself to the speech and +food and customs of this strange race, his personal modesty and +neatness revolted at the loin-cloths and beards of the men; and so, by +special dispensation, he was permitted to wear his sailor suit and to +shave.</p> + +<p>The Committee of Five, who constituted a sort of ruling body for the +city, interviewed him at length, cross-examined him most skilfully and +took copious notes. But there seemed to be a strange lack of common +meeting ground between their minds and his, so that very often they +were forced to call on Milli to act as an intermediary. The beautiful +young girl seemed able to understand both George Abbot and the leaders +of her own people with equal facility.</p> + +<p>A number of specially constructed submarines had already been built to +carry the expedition to the surface. Before it came time to use them, +Abbot tried to paint as glowing a picture as possible of life on +earth; but he found it necessary to gloss over a great many things. +How could he explain and justify war, liquor, crime, poverty, graft, +and the other evils to which constant acquaintance has rendered the +human race so calloused?</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>e was unable to deceive the men of the deep. With their +super-intelligence, they relentlessly unearthed from him all the +salient facts. And, as a result of their discoveries, their initial +friendly feeling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> for the world of men rapidly developed into supreme +contempt.</p> + +<p>But Abbot on the other hand developed a deep respect for them. Their +chemistry and their electrical and mechanical devices amazed and +astounded him. They even were able to keep sun-time and tell the +seasons, by means of gyroscopes!</p> + +<p>Age was measured much as it is on the surface. This fact was brought +to Abbot's attention by the approach of Milli's twentieth birthday.</p> + +<p>Strange to relate, she seemed to dread the approach of that +anniversary, and finally told Abbot the reason.</p> + +<p>"It is the custom," said she, "when a girl or a boy reaches twenty, to +give a very rigorous intelligence test. In fact, such a test is given +on every birthday, but the one on the twentieth is the hardest. So +far, I have just barely passed each test, which fact marks me as of +very low mentality indeed. And, if I fail <i>this</i> time, they will kill +me, so as to make room for others who have a better right to live."</p> + +<p>"Impossible!" exclaimed the young man indignantly. "Why, you have a +better mind than those of many of the leading scientists of the outer +world!"</p> + +<p>"All the same," she gloomily replied, "it is way below standard for +down here."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_o.jpg" alt="O" width="35" height="40" /></div> +<p>n the day of the test, he did his best to cheer her up. Dolf also +came—she seemed to be an especial protege of his—and gave her his +encouragement. He had been coaching her heavily for the examinations +for some time previous.</p> + +<p>But later in the day she returned in tears to report to Abbot that she +had failed, and had only twenty-four hours to live. Before he realized +what he was doing, Abbot had seized her in his arms, and was pouring +out to her a love which up to that moment he had not realized +existed.</p> + +<p>Finally her sobbing ceased, and she smiled through her tears.</p> + +<p>"George, dear," said she, "it is worth dying, to know that you care +for me like this."</p> + +<p>"I won't let them kill you!" asserted the young man belligerently. +"They owe me something for the assistance which I am to give them on +their expedition. I shall demand your life as the price of my +cooperation. Besides, you are the only one of all your people who has +brains enough to understand what I tell them about the outer earth. It +is they who are weak-minded; not you!"</p> + +<p>But she sadly shook her head.</p> + +<p>"It would never do for you to sponsor me," said she, "for it would +alienate my one friend in power, Dolf. He loves me; no, don't scowl, +for I do not love him. But, for the safety of both of us, we must not +let him know of our love—yet."</p> + +<p>"'Yet'?" exclaimed Abbot, "when you have less than a day to live?"</p> + +<p>"You have given me hope," the girl replied, "and also an idea. Dolf +promised to appeal to the other members of the Five. I have just +thought of a good ground for his appeal; namely, my ability to +translate your clumsy description into a form suited to the high +intelligence of our superiors."</p> + +<p>"'Clumsy'?" exclaimed the young man, a bit nettled.</p> + +<p>"Oh, pardon me, dear. I'm so sorry," said she contritely. "I didn't +mean to let it slip. And now I must rush to Dolf and tell him my +idea."</p> + +<p>"Don't let him make love to you, though!" admonished Abbot gloomily.</p> + +<p>She kissed him lightly, and fled.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p> half hour later she was back, all smiles. The idea had gone across +big. Dolf, as the leader of the projected expedition, had demanded +that Milli be brought along as liaison officer between them and their +guide;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> and the other four committeemen had reluctantly acceded. The +execution was accordingly indefinitely postponed.</p> + +<p>The young couple spent the evening making happy plans for their life +together on the outer earth, for as soon as they should arrive in +America, Dolf would have no further hold over them.</p> + +<p>The next day, the Committee of Five announced that, for a change, they +were going to give George Abbot an intelligence test. He had +represented himself as being one of the scientists of the outer earth; +accordingly, they could gauge the caliber of his fellow countrymen by +determining his I. Q.</p> + +<p>Milli was quite agitated when this program was announced, but the +ordeal held no terrors for George Abbot. Had he not taken many such +tests on earth and passed them easily?</p> + +<p>So he appeared before the Committee of Five with a rather cocky air. +He had yet to see an intelligence test too tricky for him to eat +alive.</p> + +<p>"Start him with something easy," suggested Dolf. "Perhaps they don't +have tests on the outer earth. You know, one gains a certain facility +by practice."</p> + +<p>"Milli didn't, in spite of all the practicing which you gave her," +maliciously remarked Thig.</p> + +<p>Dolf glowered at him.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_w2.jpg" alt="W" width="77" height="40" /></div> +<p>hat is the cube root of 378?" suddenly asked one of the other +members of the committee.</p> + +<p>"Oh, a little over seven," hazarded Abbot.</p> + +<p>"Come, come," boomed Thig: "give it to us exactly."</p> + +<p>"Well, seven-point-two, I guess."</p> + +<p>"Don't guess. Give it exact, to four decimal places."</p> + +<p>"In my head?" asked Abbot incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Certainly!" replied Thig. "Even a child could do that. We're giving +you easy questions to start with."</p> + +<p>"Start him on <i>square</i> root," suggested Dolf kindly. "Remember he +isn't used to these tests like our people are."</p> + +<p>So they tried him with square root, in which he turned out to be +equally dumb.</p> + +<p>Abstract questions of physics and chemistry he did better on; but the +actual quantitative problems, which they expected him to solve in his +head, stumped him completely.</p> + +<p>Then they asked him about education on earth, and the qualifications +for becoming a scientist, and who were the leaders in his field, and +what degrees they held, and what one had to do to get those degrees, +etc. Finally they dismissed him. Dolf then sent for Milli.</p> + +<p>She was gone about an hour, and returned to Abbot wide-eyed and +incredulous.</p> + +<p>"Oh, George," said she, lowering her voice. "Dolf tells me that your +intelligence is below that of a five-year-old child! Perhaps that is +why you and I get along so well together: we are both morons."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>e started to protest, but she silenced him with a gesture and hurried +on. "I am not supposed to tell you this, but I want you to know that +your examination to-day has resulted in a complete change in their +plans for the expedition to the surface. They have consulted with the +leaders of our masters, and they agree with them."</p> + +<p>She was plainly agitated.</p> + +<p>"What is it, dear?" asked Abbot, with ominous foreboding.</p> + +<p>Milli continued: "Early during your test, when you demonstrated that +you couldn't do the very simplest mathematical problems in your head, +they began to doubt your boastings that you are a scientist. But you +were so ingenuous in your answers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> about conditions on the surface, +that finally their faith in your honesty returned. If you are a +scientist among men, as they now believe, then the average run of your +people must be mere animals. This explains what has puzzled them +before; namely, how the people of the earth tolerate poverty and +unemployment and crime, and disease and war."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"And so a mere handful of our people, by purely peaceful means, could +easily make themselves the rulers of the earth. Probably this would be +all for the best; but somehow, my feelings tell me that it is not. I +know only too well what it is to be an inferior among intelligent +beings; so will not your people be happier, left alone to their +stupidity, just as I would be?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_g.jpg" alt="G" width="33" height="40" /></div> +<p>eorge Abbot was crushed. This frank acceptance by Milli of the +alleged fact that he was a mere moron, was most humiliating. And +swiftly he realized what a real menace to the earth, was this +contemplated invasion from the deeps.</p> + +<p>All that was worst in the world above would taint these intellectual +giants of the undersea. They would rise to supremacy, and then would +become rapacious tyrants over those whom they would regard as being no +more than animals.</p> + +<p>He had witnessed jealousies among them down below. Might not these +jealousies flame into huge wars when translated to the world above? +Giants striving for mastery, using the human cattle as cannon fodder! +He painted to the girl a word-picture of the horrible vision which he +foresaw.</p> + +<p>The invasion must be stopped at all costs! He and Milli must pit their +puny wits against these supermen!</p> + +<p>But what could they do? As they were pondering this problem, a girl +entered their sitting room—the same who had brought Abbot's +breakfast on his first day in the caves. Milli introduced George to +the newcomer, whose name was Romehl.</p> + +<p>Romehl appeared so woebegone that the young American ventured to +inquire if she too had been having difficulty with one of her tests. +But that was not the trouble; hers was rather of the heart.</p> + +<p>About the same age as Milli, Romehl had recently passed her twentieth +birthday test and hence was eligible to marry; so she and a young man +named Hakin had requested the fish-masters to give them the requisite +permission. But their overlords for some reason had peremptorily +denied the request. Romehl and Hakin were desolate.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_y.jpg" alt="Y" width="38" height="40" /></div> +<p>oung Abbot's sympathies were at once aroused.</p> + +<p>"Can't something be done?" he started to ask.</p> + +<p>But Milli silenced him with a warning glance. "Of course not!" she +said. "Who are we to question the judgment of our all-knowing +masters?"</p> + +<p>Romehl had really come to Milli just to pour her troubles into a +friendly ear, rather than because she hoped to get any helpful ideas. +So she had a good cry, and finally left, somewhat comforted.</p> + +<p>George and Milli then took up again the problem of saving the outer +earth from the threatened invasion. Milli suggested that they go +peaceably with the expedition, and then warn the authorities of +America at the first opportunity after their arrival; but Abbot +pointed out that this would merely result in their both being shut up +in some insane asylum, as no one would believe such a crazy story as +theirs.</p> + +<p>The time for lights to be put out arrived without their thinking of +any better idea.</p> + +<p>Next day Milli spent considerable time with Dolf, and on her return<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +excitedly informed Abbot that he had evolved a most diabolical plot. +There were sufficient quantities of explosives in storage to blast a +hole through the wall of the caves, letting in the sea and killing +everyone in the city. Dolf planned to set this off with a time fuse, +upon the departure of the expedition. Thus Thig and the people who +were left behind—about two-thirds of the total population of the +city—would be destroyed, and the fish would have no one to send after +Dolf and his followers to dictate to them on the upper earth.</p> + +<p>Relieved of the thraldom of the fish, Dolf could make himself Emperor +of the World, and rule over the human cattle, with Milli at his side +as Empress. An alluring program—from Dolf's point of view.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_i1.jpg" alt="I" width="35" height="40" /></div> +<p> didn't expect such treason even from Dolf!" exclaimed the young +American. "We must tell Thig!"</p> + +<p>"What good would that do?" remonstrated the girl. "If you failed to +convince Thig, Dolf would make an end of us both. And if you convinced +Thig, it would mean the end of Dolf, whose influence is all that keeps +me alive. We must think of something else."</p> + +<p>"Right, as always," replied Abbot.</p> + +<p>A growl came from the doorway. It was Dolf, his bearded face black +with wrath.</p> + +<p>"So?" he sputtered. "Treachery, eh?"</p> + +<p>He whistled twice and two guards appeared.</p> + +<p>"Take them to the prison!" he raged, indicating Abbot and Milli. "Our +expedition will have to do without a guide. I have learned enough of +the American language to make a good start, and I guess I can pick up +another guide when we reach the surface." Then, bending close to the +frightened girl, he whispered, "And another Empress."</p> + +<p>The guards hustled them away and locked them up. As an added +precaution, a sentinel was posted in front of each cell door.</p> + +<p>Abbot immediately got busy.</p> + +<p>"Can you get word for me at once to Thig?" he whispered to the man on +guard.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," replied that individual non-committally.</p> + +<p>"Then tell him," said Abbot, "that I have proof that Dolf is planning +to destroy this city behind him, and never return from the surface."</p> + +<p>The sentry became immediately agitated.</p> + +<p>"So you know this?" he exclaimed. "How did it leak out? But—through +Milli, of course. And the guard on her cell is not a member of the +expedition! Curses! I must get word to Dolf, and have that guard +changed at once."</p> + +<p>And he darted swiftly away.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he young prisoner was plunged into gloom. Now he'd gone and done it! +Why hadn't he first made appropriate inquiries of his guard?</p> + +<p>A new guard appeared in front of the door.</p> + +<p>"Are you going on the expedition?" asked Abbot.</p> + +<p>"Yes, worse luck," replied the guard.</p> + +<p>The prisoner forgot his own gloom, in his surprise at the gloominess +of the other.</p> + +<p>"Don't you want to go?" he exclaimed incredulously.</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Do you know Romehl?" asked the guard.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Abbot replied.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's why."</p> + +<p>"Then you must be Hakin!" exclaimed Abbot, with sudden understanding.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied the other dully.</p> + +<p>"You are going on the expedition, and Romehl is not?"</p> + +<p>"Quite correct."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Say, look here!" exclaimed Abbot, and then he launched into the +description of a plan, which just that moment had occurred to him, for +him, Milli, Romehl and Hakin to make their getaway ahead of the +expedition—in fact, that very night—and to set off the time-fuse +before leaving.</p> + +<p>It turned out that Hakin knew where the explosives were planted, and +where the submarines were kept, and even how to operate them. He +eagerly accepted the plan; and when next relieved as sentinel, he +hurried away to inform Romehl.</p> + +<p>Three hours later he was back on post. Quickly he explained to his +prisoner all about the workings of the submarines of the expedition. +The lights-out bell rang, and all the city became dark, except for dim +lights in the passageways. Hakin at once unlocked the door of Abbot's +cell, and together the two young men sneaked down the corridor to the +cell where Milli was confined.</p> + +<p>Silently Hakin and Abbot sprang upon the guard and throttled him; then +released Milli. There was no time for more than a few hurried words of +explanation before the three of them left the prison and made for the +locks of the subterranean canal, picking up Romehl at a preappointed +spot on the way.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he canal locks were unguarded, as well as the storerooms of the +submarines. Each of the rooms held two subs, and could open onto the +second lock and be separately flooded.</p> + +<p>The submarines were of steel as thick as Abbot's bathysphere. Their +shape was that of an elongated rain drop, with fins. In the pointed +tip of their tails were motors which could operate at any pressure. At +the front end were quartz windows. In the top fin was an expanding +device which could be filled with buoyant gas, produced by chemicals, +when the craft neared the surface. Each submarine also contained a +radio set, so tuned as to be capable of opening and closing the +radio-controlled gates of the locks. Each would carry comfortably two +or three persons.</p> + +<p>Having picked out two submarines and found them to be in order, Hakin +sneaked back into the corridor to set off the time-fuse, leaving his +three companions in the dark in the storeroom. Abbot put a protecting +arm around Milli, while Romehl snuggled close to her other side.</p> + +<p>Their hearts were all racing madly with excitement, and this was +intensified when they heard Hakin talking with someone just outside +their door.</p> + +<p>Then Hakin returned unexpectedly.</p> + +<p>"Something terrible has happened!" he breathed. "The explosives have +been discovered and are gone. One of the expedition men has just +informed me. Someone must have gotten word to Thig—"</p> + +<p>"Why, <i>I</i> did," interrupted Milli. "I told my guard, just before they +came and changed him."</p> + +<p>Abbot groaned.</p> + +<p>Hakin continued hurriedly: "So Dolf plans to leave at once. He is +already rounding up his followers. Come on! We must get out ahead of +him!"</p> + +<p>An uproar could be heard drawing near in the corridor outside. Abbot +opened the door and peered out; then shut it again and whispered, "The +two factions are fighting already."</p> + +<p>"Then come on!" exclaimed Hakin.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p>s he spoke he turned on the lights, wedged the door tight against its +gaskets and threw the switch which started the water seeping into the +storeroom; then he led Romehl hurriedly to one of the two submarines, +while George and Milli rushed to the other. Heavy blows sounded +against the storeroom door.</p> + +<p>The water rapidly rose about them,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> and the four friends crawled +inside the two machines and clamped the lids tight. Then they waited +for sufficient depth, so that they could get under way.</p> + +<p>The water rose above their bow windows, but suddenly and inexplicably +it began to subside again. A man waded by around the bow of Abbot's +machine.</p> + +<p>"They've crashed in the door, and are pumping out the water again!" +exclaimed Abbot. "We're trapped!"</p> + +<p>"Not yet!" grimly replied the girl at his side. "Can you work the +radio door controls?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Then quick! Open the doors into the lock!"</p> + +<p>He pressed a button. Ahead of them two gates swung inward, followed by +a deluge of water.</p> + +<p>"Come on!" spoke the girl. "Full speed ahead, before the water gets +too low."</p> + +<p>Abbot did so. Out into the lock they sped, in the face of the surging +current. Then Abbot pushed another button to close the gates behind +them. But the water continued to fall, and they grounded before they +reached the end of the lock. Quite evidently the rush of the current +had kept the doors from closing behind them. The city was being +flooded through the broken door of the storeroom.</p> + +<p>But Abbot opened the next gate, and again they breasted the incoming +torrent. This time, although the level continued to fall, their craft +did not quite ground.</p> + +<p>"They must have got the gates shut behind us at last," said he, as he +opened the next set and pressed on.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p>nd then he had an idea. Why not omit to close any further gates +behind him? As a result, the sea pressure would eventually break down +the inmost barriers, and destroy the city as effectively as Dolf's +bomb would have done. But he said nothing to Milli of this plan: she +might wish to save her people.</p> + +<p>Gate after gate they passed. This was too simple. A few more locks and +they would be out in open water. The submarine of Hakin and Romehl +swept by—evidently to let George and Milli know their presence—and +then dropped behind again. But was it their two friends after all? It +might have been some enemy! They could not be sure.</p> + +<p>This uncertainty cast a chill of apprehension over them, which was +immediately heightened by the sudden extinguishing of the overhead +lights of the tunnel. Abbot pressed the radio button for the next set +of locks, but they did not budge.</p> + +<p>"What can be the matter?" he asked frantically.</p> + +<p>"My people must have turned off the electric current," Milli replied. +"The gates won't open without electricity to feed the motors. We're +trapped again."</p> + +<p>For a moment they lay stunned by a realization that their escape was +blocked.</p> + +<p>"Kiss me good-by, dear," breathed Milli. "This is the end."</p> + +<p>As the young man reached over to take her in his arms, the submarine +was suddenly lifted up and spun backward, end over end: then tumbled +and bumped along, as though it were a chip on an angry mountain +torrent.</p> + +<p>Stunned and bruised and bleeding, the young American finally lost +consciousness....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_w.jpg" alt="W" width="48" height="40" /></div> +<p>hen he came to his senses again, his first words were, "Milli, where +are you?"</p> + +<p>"My darling!" breathed a voice at his side. "Are you all right?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he replied. "Where are we? What has happened?"</p> + +<p>"The entire system of locks must have crashed in and flooded the +city," said she.</p> + +<p>Instantly Abbott's mind grasped<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> the explanation of this occurrence: +their leaving open so many gates behind them had made it impossible +for the few remaining gates ahead to withstand the terrific pressures +of the ocean depths, and they had crumpled. But he did not tell Milli +his part in this.</p> + +<p>She continued, "I was pretty badly shaken up myself, but I've got this +boat going again, and we're on our way out of the tunnel. See—I've +found out how to work our searchlight."</p> + +<p>He looked. A broad beam of light from their bow, illuminated the +tunnel ahead of them.</p> + +<p>Presently another beam appeared, shooting by them from behind.</p> + +<p>"Hakin and Romehl!" exclaimed the girl. "Then they're safe, too!"</p> + +<p>The tunnel walls grew rough, then disappeared. They were out in the +open sea at last, although still one mile beneath the surface.</p> + +<p>But in front of them was an angry seething school of the man-sharks, +clearly illumined by the two rays of light. Behind the sharks were a +score or more of serpentine steeds.</p> + +<p>The sharks saw the two submarines and charged down upon them; but +Milli, with great presence of mind, shut off her searchlight and swung +sharply to the left.</p> + +<p>"Up! Up!" urged the young man, so she turned the craft upward.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_o.jpg" alt="O" width="35" height="40" /></div> +<p>n and on they went, with no interference. Presently they turned the +light on again, so as to see what progress they were making. But they +were making absolutely none! They were merely standing on their tail. +They had reached a height of such relatively low pressure that it took +all the churning of their propeller just merely to counteract the +great weight of their submarine.</p> + +<p>Abbot switched on their chemical gas supply, and as their top fin +expanded into a balloon they again began to rise.</p> + +<p>One thing, however, perplexed the young man: the water about him +seemed jet black rather than blue. They must by now be close to the +surface of the sea, where at least a twilight blue should be visible. +Even at the one mile depth in his bathysphere, the water had been +brilliant, yet here, almost at the surface, he could see absolutely +nothing.</p> + +<p>He switched on the searchlight again to make sure that their window +wasn't clouded over; but it wasn't.</p> + +<p>Then suddenly a rippling veil of pale silver appeared ahead; then a +blue-black sky and twinkling stars. They had reached the surface, and +it was night.</p> + +<p>He pointed out the stars to the girl at his side, then swung the nose +of the submarine around and showed her the moon.</p> + +<p>Where next? George Abbot picked out his position by the stars and +headed east. East across the Pacific, toward America.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_b.jpg" alt="B" width="34" height="40" /></div> +<p>ut soon he noticed that their little craft was dropping beneath the +surface. He kept heading up more and more; he threw the lever for more +and more chemical gas; yet still they continued to sink.</p> + +<p>"Milli!" he exclaimed, "we've got to get out of here!"</p> + +<p>She clutched him in fear, for to her the pressure of the open sea +meant death, certain death. But he pushed her firmly away, and +unclamped the lid of the submarine. In another instant he had hauled +her out and was battling his way to the surface, while their little +boat sunk slowly beneath them.</p> + +<p>Milli was an experienced swimmer, for the undersea folk enjoyed the +privilege of a large indoor pool. As soon as she found that the open +sea did not kill her, she became calm.</p> + +<p>Side by side they floated in the moonlight. The sky began to pink in +the east. Dawn came, the first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> dawn that Milli had ever seen.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she called George's attention to two bobbing heads some +distance away in the path of light the rising sun made on the ocean.</p> + +<p>"Hakin and Romehl!" he exclaimed. Long since they had given them up +for dead; but evidently fate had treated them in much the same way as +themselves.</p> + +<p>And a moment later his own salt-stung eyes noticed a long gray shape +to one side.</p> + +<p>As the day brightened, Abbot suddenly noticed a large bulking shape +nearby.</p> + +<p>It was his own boat!—the one which had lowered him into the depths in +his bathysphere so many weeks and weeks ago! Evidently it was still +sticking around, grappling for his long dead body.</p> + +<p>"Come on, dear," said he, and side by side they swam over to it.</p> + +<p>He helped her up the ship's ladder. The ship's cook sleepily stuck his +head out of the galley door.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, Mike," sang out George Abbot merrily to the astonished man. +"I've brought company for breakfast. And there'll be two more when we +can lower a boat."</p> +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/image_004.jpg" width="450" height="477" alt="Advertisement" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Brood_of_the_Dark_Moon" id="Brood_of_the_Dark_Moon"></a>Brood of the Dark Moon</h2> + +<h4>(<i>A Sequel to "Dark Moon"</i>)</h4> + +<h3>BEGINNING A FOUR-PART NOVEL</h3> +<h3><i>By Charles Willard Diffin</i></h3> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> +<img src="images/image_005.jpg" width="700" height="360" alt="He landed one blow on the nearest face." title="" /> +<span class="caption">He landed one blow on the nearest face.</span> +</div> + + +<h4>CHAPTER I</h4> +<h4><i>The Message</i></h4> + +<div class="sidenote">Once more Chet, Walt and Diane are united in a wild ride to +the Dark Moon—but this time they go as prisoners of their deadly +enemy Schwartzmann.</div> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i2.jpg" alt="I" width="20" height="50" /></div> + +<p>n a hospital in Vienna, in a room where sunlight flooded through +ultra-violet permeable crystal, the warm rays struck upon smooth walls +the color of which changed from hot reds to cool yellow or gray or to +soothing green, as the Directing Surgeon might order. An elusive +blending of tones, now seemed pulsing with life; surely even a +flickering flame of vitality would be blown into warm livingness in +such a place.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p> + +<p>Even the chart case in the wall glittered with the same clean, +brilliant hues from its glass and metal door. The usual revolving +paper disks showed white beyond the glass. They were moving; and the +ink lines grew to tell a story of temperature and respiration and of +every heart-beat.</p> + +<p>On the identification-plate a name appeared and a date: "Chet +Bullard—23 years. Admitted: August 10, 1973." And below that the +ever-changing present ticked into the past in silent minutes: "August +15, 1973; World Standard Time: 10:38—10:39—10:40—"</p> + +<p>For five days the minutes had trickled into a rivulet of time that +flowed past a bandaged figure in the bed below—a silent figure and +unmoving, as one for whom time has ceased. But the surgeons of the +Allied Hospital at Vienna are clever.</p> + +<p>10:41—10:42—The bandaged figure stirred uneasily on a snow-white +bed....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p> nurse was beside him in an instant. Was her patient about to recover +consciousness? She examined the bandages that covered a ragged wound +in his side, where all seemed satisfactory. To all appearances the man +who had moved was unconscious still; the nurse could not know of the +thought impressions,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> blurred at first, then gradually clearing, that +were flashing through his mind.</p> + +<p>Flashing; yet, to the man who struggled to comprehend them, they +passed laggingly in review: one picture followed another with +exasperating slowness....</p> + +<p>Where was he? What had happened? He was hardly conscious of his own +identity....</p> + +<p>There was a ship ... he held the controls ... they were flying low.... +One hand reached fumblingly beneath the soft coverlet to search for a +triple star that should be upon his jacket. A triple star: the +insignia of a Master Pilot of the World!—and with the movement there +came clearly a realization of himself.</p> + +<p>Chet Bullard, Master Pilot; he was Chet Bullard ... and a wall of +water was sweeping under him from the ocean to wipe out the great +Harkness Terminal buildings.... It was Harkness—Walt Harkness—from +whom he had snatched the controls.... To fly to the Dark Moon, of +course—</p> + +<p>What nonsense was that?... No, it was true: the Dark Moon had raised +the devil with things on Earth.... How slowly the thoughts came! Why +couldn't he remember?...</p> + +<p>Dark Moon!—and they were flying through space.... They had conquered +space; they were landing on the Dark Moon that was brilliantly alight. +Walt Harkness had set the ship down beautifully—</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>hen, crowding upon one another in breath-taking haste, came clear +recollection of past adventures:</p> + +<p>They were upon the Dark Moon—and there was the girl, Diane. They must +save Diane. Harkness had gone for the ship. A savage, half-human shape +was raising a hairy arm to drive a spear toward Diane, and he, Chet, +was leaping before her. He felt again the lancet-pain of that +blade....</p> + +<p>And now he was dying—yes, he remembered it now—dying in the night on +a great, sweeping surface of frozen lava.... It was only a moment +before that he had opened his eyes to see Harkness' strained face and +the agonized look of Diane as the two leaned above him.... But now he +felt stronger. He must see them again....</p> + +<p>He opened his eyes for another look at his companions—and, instead of +black, star-pricked night on a distant globe, there was dazzling +sunlight. No desolate lava-flow, this; no thousand fires that flared +and smoked from their fumeroles in the dark. And, instead of Harkness +and the girl, Diane, leaning over him there was a nurse who laid one +cool hand upon his blond head and who spoke soothingly to him of +keeping quiet. He was to take it easy—he would understand later—and +everything was all right.... And with this assurance Chet Bullard +drifted again into sleep....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he blurring memories had lost their distortions a week later, as he +sat before a broad window in his room and looked out over the +housetops of Vienna. Again he was himself, Chet Bullard, with a Master +Pilot's rating: and he let his eyes follow understandingly the moving +picture of the world outside. It was good to be part of a world whose +every movement he understood.</p> + +<p>Those cylinders with stubby wings that crossed and recrossed the sky; +their sterns showed a jet of thin vapor where a continuous explosion +of detonite threw them through the air. He knew them all: the pleasure +craft, the big, red-bellied freighters, the sleek liners, whose +multiple helicopters spun dazzlingly above<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> as they sank down through +the shaft of pale-green light that marked a descending area.</p> + +<p>That one would be the China Mail. Her under-ports were open before the +hold-down clamps had gripped her; the mail would pour out in an +avalanche of pouches where smaller mailships waited to distribute the +cargo across the land.</p> + +<p>And the big fellow taking off, her hull banded with blue, was one of +Schwartzmann's liners. He wondered what had become of Schwartzmann, +the man who had tried to rob Harkness of his ship; who had brought the +patrol ships upon them in an effort to prevent their take-off on that +wild trip.</p> + +<p>For that matter, what had become of Harkness? Chet Bullard was +seriously disturbed at the absence of any word beyond the one message +that had been waiting for him when he regained consciousness. He drew +that message from a pocket of his dressing gown and read it again:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Chet, old fellow, lie low. S has vanished. Means mischief. +Think best not to see you or reveal your whereabouts until +our position firmly established. Have concealed ship. +Remember, S will stop at nothing. Trying to discredit us, +but the gas I brought will fix all that. Get yourself well. +We are planning to go back, of course. Walt."</p></div> + +<p>Chet returned the folded message to his pocket. He arose and walked +about the room to test his returning strength: to remain idle was +becoming increasingly difficult. He wanted to see Walter Harkness, +talk with him, plan for their return to the wonder-world they had +found.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i.jpg" alt="I" width="16" height="40" /></div> +<p>nstead he dropped again into his chair and touched a knob on the +newscaster beside him. A voice, hushed to the requirements of these +hospital precincts spoke softly of market quotations in the far +corners of the earth. He turned the dial irritably and set it on +"World News—General." The name of Harkness came from the instrument +to focus Chet's attention.</p> + +<p>"Harkness makes broad claims," the voice was saying. "Vienna +physicists ridicule his pretensions.</p> + +<p>"Walter Harkness, formerly of New York, proprietor of Harkness +Terminals, whose great buildings near New York were destroyed in the +Dark Moon wave, claims to have reached and returned from the Dark +Moon.</p> + +<p>"Nearly two months have passed since the new satellite crashed into +the gravitational field of Earth, its coming manifested by earth +shocks and a great tidal wave. The globe, as we know, was invisible. +Although still unseen, and only a black circle that blocks out distant +stars, it is visible in the telescopes of the astronomers; its +distance and its orbital motion have been determined.</p> + +<p>"And now this New Yorker claims to have penetrated space: to have +landed on the Dark Moon: and to have returned to Earth. Broad claims, +indeed, especially so in view of the fact that Harkness refuses to +submit his ship for examination by the Stratosphere Control Board. He +has filed notice of ownership, thus introducing some novel legal +technicalities, but, since space-travel is still a dream of the +future, there will be none to dispute his claims.</p> + +<p>"Of immediate interest is Harkness' claim to have discovered a gas +that is fatal to the serpents of space. The monsters that appeared +when the Dark Moon came and that attacked ships above the Repelling +Area are still there. All flying is confined to the lower levels; fast +world-routes are disorganized.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Whether or not this gas, of which Harkness has a sample, came from +the Dark Moon or from some laboratory on Earth is of no particular +importance. Will it destroy the space-serpents? If it does this, our +hats are off to Mr. Walter Harkness; almost will we be inclined to +believe the rest of his story—or to laugh with him over one of the +greatest hoaxes ever attempted."</p> + +<p>Chet had been too intent upon the newscast to heed an opening door at +his back....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_h1.jpg" alt="H" width="54" height="40" /></div> +<p>ow about it, Chet?" a voice was asking. "Would you call it a hoax or +the real thing?" And a girl's voice chimed in with exclamations of +delight at sight of the patient, so evidently recovering.</p> + +<p>"Diane!" Chet exulted, "—and Walt!—you old son-of-a-gun!" He found +himself clinging to a girl's soft hand with one of his, while with the +other he reached for that of her companion. But Walt Harkness' arm +went about his shoulders instead.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to hammer you plenty," Harkness was saying, "and I don't +even dare give you a friendly slam on the back. How's the side where +they got you with the spear?—and how are you? How soon will you be +ready to start back? What about—"</p> + +<p>Diane Delacouer raised her one free hand to stop the flood of +questions. "My dear," she protested, "give Chet a chance. He must be +dying for information."</p> + +<p>"I was dying for another reason the last time I saw you," Chet +reminded her, "—up on the Dark Moon. But it seems that you got me +back here in time for repairs. And now what?" His nurse came into the +room with extra chairs; Chet waited till she was gone before he +repeated: "Now what? When do we go back?"</p> + +<p>Harkness did not answer at once. Instead he crossed to the newscaster +in its compact, metal case. The voice was still speaking softly; at a +touch of a switch it ceased, and in the silence came the soft rush of +sound that meant the telautotype had taken up its work. Beneath a +glass a paper moved, and words came upon it from a hurricane of +type-bars underneath. The instrument was printing the news story as +rapidly as any voice could speak it.</p> + +<p>Harkness read the words for an instant, then let the paper pass on to +wind itself upon a spool. It had still been telling of the gigantic +hoax that this eccentric American had attempted and Harkness repeated +the words.</p> + +<p>"A hoax!" he exclaimed, and his eyes, for a moment, flashed angrily +beneath the dark hair that one hand had disarranged. "I would like to +take that facetious bird out about a thousand miles and let him play +around with the serpents we met. But, why get excited? This is all +Schwartzmann's doing. The tentacles of that man's influence, reach out +like those of an octopus."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_c.jpg" alt="C" width="30" height="40" /></div> +<p>het ranged himself alongside. Tall and slim and blond, he contrasted +strongly with this other man, particularly in his own quiet +self-control as against Harkness' quick-flaring anger.</p> + +<p>"Take it easy, Walt," he advised. "We'll show them. But I judge that +you have been razzed a bit. It's a pretty big story for them to +swallow without proof. Why didn't you show them the ship? Or why +didn't you let Diane and me back up your yarn? And you haven't +answered my other questions: when do we go back?"</p> + +<p>Harkness took the queries in turn.</p> + +<p>"I didn't show the old boat," he explained, "because I'm not ready<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> +for that yet. I want it kept dark—dark as the Dark Moon. I want to do +my preliminary work there before Schwartzmann and his experts see our +ship. He would duplicate it in a hurry and be on our trail.</p> + +<p>"And now for our plans. Well, out there in space the Dark Moon is +waiting. Have you realized, Chet, that we own that world—you and +Diane and I? Small—only half the size of our old moon—but what a +place! And it's ours!</p> + +<p>"Back in history—you remember?—an ambitious lad named Alexander +sighed for more worlds to conquer. Well, we're going Alexander one +better—we've found the world. We're the first ever to go out into +space and return again.</p> + +<p>"We'll go back there, the three of us. We will take no others +along—not yet. We will explore and make our plans for development; +and we will keep it to ourselves until we are ready to hold it against +any opposition.</p> + +<p>"And now, how soon can you go? Your injury—how soon will you be well +enough?"</p> + +<p>"Right now," Chet told him laconically; "to-day, if you say the word. +They've got me welded together so I'll hold, I reckon. But where's the +ship? What have you done—" He broke off abruptly to listen—</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>o all three came a muffled, booming roar. The windows beside them +shivered with the thud of the distant explosion; they had not ceased +their trembling before Harkness had switched on the news broadcast. +And it was a minute only until the news-gathering system was on the +air.</p> + +<p>"Explosion at the Institute of Physical Science!" it said. "This is +Vienna broadcasting. An explosion has just occurred. We are giving a +preliminary announcement only. The laboratories of the Scientific +Institute of this city are destroyed. A number of lives have been +lost. The cause has not been determined. It is reported that the +laboratories were beginning analytical work, on the so-called Harkness +Dark Moon gas—</p> + +<p>"Confirmation has just been radioed to this station. Dark Moon gas +exploded on contact with air. The American, Harkness, is either a +criminal or a madman; he will be apprehended at once. This +confirmation comes from Herr Schwartzmann of Vienna who left the +Institute only a few minutes before the explosion occurred—"</p> + +<p>And, in the quiet of a hospital room, Walter Harkness, drew a long +breath and whispered: "Schwartzmann! His hand is everywhere.... And +that sample was all I had.... I must leave at once—go back to +America."</p> + +<p>He was halfway to the door—he was almost carrying Diane Delacouer +with him—when Chet's quiet tones brought him up short.</p> + +<p>"I've never seen you afraid," said Chet; and his eyes were regarding +the other man curiously; "but you seem to have the wind up, as the old +flyers used to say, when it comes to Schwartzmann."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>arkness looked at the girl he held so tightly, then grinned boyishly +at Chet. "I've someone else to be afraid for now," he said.</p> + +<p>His smile faded and was replaced by a look of deep concern. "I haven't +told you about Schwartzmann," he said; "haven't had time. But he's +poison, Chet. And he's after our ship."</p> + +<p>"Where is the ship; where have you hidden it? Tell me—where?"</p> + +<p>Harkness looked about him before he whispered sharply: "Our old +shop—up north!"</p> + +<p>He seemed to feel that some explanation was due Chet. "In this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> day it +seems absurd to say such things," he added; "but this Schwartzmann is +a throw-back—a conscienceless scoundrel. He would put all three of us +out of the way in a minute if he could get the ship. <i>He</i> knows we +have been to the Dark Moon—no question about that—and he wants the +wealth he can imagine is there.</p> + +<p>"We'll all plan to leave; I'll radio you later. We'll go back to the +Dark Moon—" He broke off abruptly as the door opened to admit the +nurse. "You'll hear from me later," he repeated; and hurried Diane +Delacouer from the room.</p> + +<p>But he returned in a moment to stand again at the door—the nurse was +still in the room. "In case you feel like going for a hop," he told +Chet casually, "Diane's leaving her ship here for you. You'll find it +up above—private landing stage on the roof."</p> + +<p>Chet answered promptly, "Fine; that will go good one of these days." +All this for the benefit of listening ears. Yet even Chet would have +been astonished to know that he would be using that ship within an +hour....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>e was standing at the window, and his mind was filled, not with +thoughts of any complications that had developed for his friend +Harkness, but only of the adventures that lay ahead of them both. The +Dark Moon!—they had reached it indeed; but they had barely scratched +the surface of that world of mystery and adventure. He was wild with +eagerness to return—to see again that new world, blazing brightly +beneath the sun; to see the valley of fires—and he had a score to +settle with the tribe of ape-men, unless Harkness had finished them +off while he, himself, lay unconscious.... Yes, there seemed little +doubt of that; Walt would have paid the score for all of them.... He +seemed actually back in that world to which his thoughts went winging +across the depths of space. The burr of a telephone recalled him.</p> + +<p>It was the hospital office, he found, when he answered. There was a +message—would Mr. Bullard kindly receive it on the telautotype—lever +number four, and dial fifteen-point-two—thanks.... And Chet depressed +a key and adjusted the instrument that had been printing the newscast.</p> + +<p>The paper moved on beneath the glass, and the type-bars clicked more +slowly now. From some distant station that might be anywhere on or +above the earth, there was coming a message.</p> + +<p>The frequency of that sending current was changed at some central +office; it was stepped down to suit the instrument beside him. And the +type was spelling out words that made the watching man breathless and +intent—until he tore off the paper and leaped for the call signal +that would summon the nurse. Through her he would get his own clothes, +his uniform, the triple star that showed his rating and his authority +in every air-level of the world.</p> + +<p>That badge would have got him immediate attention on any landing +field. Now, on the flat roof, with steady, gray eyes and a voice whose +very quietness accentuated its imperative commands, Chet had the staff +of the hospital hangars as alert as if their alarm had sounded a +general ambulance call.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_s.jpg" alt="S" width="26" height="40" /></div> +<p>traight into the sky a red beacon made a rigid column of light; a +radio sender was crackling a warning and a demand for "clear air." +From the forty level, a patrol ship that had caught the signal came +corkscrewing down the red shaft to stand by for emergency work.... +Chet called her commander<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> from the cabin of Diane's ship. A word of +thanks—Chet's number—and a dismissal of the craft. Then the white +lights signaled "all clear" and the hold-down levers let go with a +soft hiss—</p> + +<p>The feel of the controls was good to his hands; the ship roared into +life. A beautiful little cruiser, this ship of Diane's; her twin +helicopters lifted her gracefully into the air. The column of red +light had changed to blue, the mark of an ascending area; Chet touched +a switch. A muffled roar came from the stern and the blast drove him +straight out for a mile; then he swung and returned. He was nosing up +as he touched the blue—straight up—and he held the vertical climb +till the altimeter before him registered sixty thousand.</p> + +<p>Traffic is north-bound only on the sixty-level, and Chet set his ship +on a course for the frozen wastes of the Arctic; then he gave her the +gun and nodded in tight-lipped satisfaction at the mounting thunder +that answered from the stern.</p> + +<p>Only then did he read again the message on a torn fragment of +telautotype paper. "Harkness," was the signature; and above, a brief +warning and a call—"Danger—must leave at once. You get ship and +stand by. I will meet you there." And, for the first time, Chet found +time to wonder at this danger that had set the hard-headed, +hard-hitting Walt Harkness into a flutter of nerves.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_w.jpg" alt="W" width="48" height="40" /></div> +<p>hat danger could there be in this well-guarded world? A patrol-ship +passed below him as he asked himself the question. It was symbolic of +a world at peace; a world too busy with its own tremendous development +to find time for wars or makers of war. What trouble could this man +Schwartzmann threaten that a word to the Peace Enforcement Commission +would not quell? Where could he go to elude the inescapable patrols?</p> + +<p>And suddenly Chet saw the answer to that question—saw plainly where +Schwartzmann could go. Those vast reaches of black space! If +Schwartzmann had their ship he could go where they had gone—go out to +the Dark Moon.... And Harkness had warned Chet to get their ship and +stand by.</p> + +<p>Had Walt learned of some plan of Schwartzmann's? Chet could not answer +the question, but he moved the control rheostat over to the last +notch.</p> + +<p>From the body of the craft came an unending roar of a generator where +nothing moved; where only the terrific, explosive impact of bursting +detonite drove out from the stern to throw them forward. "A good +little ship," Chet had said of this cruiser of Diane's; and he nodded +approval now of a ground-speed detector whose quivering needle had +left the 500 mark. It touched 600, crept on, and trembled at 700 miles +an hour with the top speed of the ship.</p> + +<p>There was a position-finder in the little control room, and Chet's +gaze returned to it often to see the pinpoint of light that crept +slowly across the surface of a globe. It marked their ever-changing +location, and it moved unerringly toward a predetermined goal.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i.jpg" alt="I" width="16" height="40" /></div> +<p>t was a place of ice and snow and bleak outcropping of half-covered +rocks where he descended. Lost from the world, a place where even the +high levels seldom echoed to the roar of passing ships, it had been a +perfect location for their "shop." Here he and Walt had assembled +their mystery ship.</p> + +<p>He had to search intently over the icy waste to find the exact +location; a dim red glow from a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> hidden sun shone like pale fire +across distant black hills. But the hills gave him a bearing, and he +landed at last beside a vaguely outlined structure, half hidden in +drifting snow.</p> + +<p>The dual fans dropped him softly upon the snow ground and Chet, as he +walked toward the great locked doors, was trembling from other causes +than the cold. Would the ship be there? He was suddenly a-quiver with +excitement at the thought of what this ship meant—the adventure, the +exploration that lay ahead.</p> + +<p>The doors swung back. In the warm and lighted room was a cylinder of +silvery white. Its bow ended in a gaping port where a mighty exhaust +could roar forth to check the ship's forward speed; there were other +ports ranged about the gleaming body. Above the hull a control-room +projected flatly; its lookouts shone in the brilliance of the nitron +illuminator that flooded the room with light....</p> + +<p>Chet Bullard was breathless as he moved on and into the room. His wild +experiences that had seemed but a weird dream were real again. The +Dark Moon was real! And they would be going back to it!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he muffled beating of great helicopters was sounding in his ears; +outside, a ship was landing. This would be Harkness coming to join +him; yet, even as the thought flashed through his mind, it was +countered by a quick denial. To the experienced hearing of the Master +Pilot this sound of many fans meant no little craft. It was a big ship +that was landing, and it was coming down fast. The blue-striped +monster looming large in the glow of the midnight sun was not entirely +a surprise to Chet's staring eyes.</p> + +<p>But—blue-striped! The markings of the Schwartzmann line!—He had +hardly sensed the danger when it was upon him.</p> + +<p>A man, heavy and broad of frame, was giving orders. Only once had Chet +seen this Herr Schwartzmann, but there was no mistaking him now. And +he was sending a squad of rushing figures toward the man who struggled +to close a great door.</p> + +<p>Chet crouched to meet the attack. He was outnumbered; he could never +win out. But the knowledge of his own helplessness was nothing beside +that other conviction that flooded him with sickening certainty—</p> + +<p>A hoax!—that was what they had called Walt's story; Schwartzmann had +so named it, and now Schwartzmann had been the one to fool them; the +message was a fake—a bait to draw him out; and he, Chet, had taken +the bait. He had led Schwartzmann here; had delivered their ship into +his hands—</p> + +<p>He landed one blow on the nearest face; he had one glimpse of a +clubbed weapon swinging above him—and the world went dark.</p> + + +<h4>CHAPTER II</h4> +<h4><i>Into Space</i></h4> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p> pulsing pain that stabbed through his head was Chet's first +conscious impression. Then, as objects came slowly into focus before +his eyes, he knew that above him a ray of light was striking +slantingly through the thick glass of a control-room lookout.</p> + +<p>Other lookouts were black, the dead black of empty space. Through +them, sparkling points of fire showed here and there—suns, sending +their light across millions of years to strike at last on a speeding +ship. But, from the one port that caught the brighter light, came that +straight ray to illumine the room.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Space," thought Chet vaguely. "That is the sunlight of space!"</p> + +<p>He was trying to arrange his thoughts in some sensible sequence. His +head!—what had happened to his head?... And then he remembered. Again +he saw a clubbed weapon descending, while the face of Schwartzmann +stared at him through bulbous eyes....</p> + +<p>And this control-room where he lay—he knew in an instant where he +was. It was his own ship that was roaring and trembling beneath +him—his and Walt Harkness'—it was flying through space! And, with +the sudden realization of what this meant, he struggled to arise. Only +then did he see the figure at the controls.</p> + +<p>The man was leaning above an instrument board; he straightened to +stare from a rear port while he spoke to someone Chet could not see.</p> + +<p>"There's more of 'em coming!" he said in a choked voice. "<i>Mein Gott!</i> +Neffer can we get away!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>e fumbled with shaking hands at instruments and controls; and now +Chet saw his chalk-white face and read plainly the terror that was +written there. But the cords that cut into his own wrists and ankles +reminded him that he was bound; he settled back upon the floor. Why +struggle? If this other pilot was having trouble let him get out of it +by himself—let him kill his own snakes!</p> + +<p>That the man was having trouble there was no doubt. He looked once +more behind him as if at something that pursued; then swung the +ball-control to throw the ship off her course.</p> + +<p>The craft answered sluggishly, and Chet Bullard grinned where he lay +helpless upon the floor; for he knew that his ship should have been +thrown crashingly aside with such a motion as that. The answer was +plain: the flask of super-detonite was exhausted; here was the last +feeble explosion of the final atoms of the terrible explosive that was +being admitted to the generator. And to cut in another flask meant the +opening of a hidden valve.</p> + +<p>Chet forgot the pain of his swelling hands to shake with suppressed +mirth. This was going to be good! He forgot it until, through a +lookout, he saw a writhing, circling fire that wrapped itself about +the ship and jarred them to a halt.</p> + +<p>The serpents!—those horrors from space that had come with the coming +of the Dark Moon! They had disrupted the high-level traffic of the +world; had seized great liners; torn their way in; stripped these of +every living thing, and let the empty shells crash back to earth. Chet +had forgotten or he had failed to realize the height at which this new +pilot was flying. Only speed could save them; the monsters, with their +snouts that were great suction-cups, could wrench off a metal +door—tear out the glass from a port!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>e saw the luminous mass crush itself against a forward lookout and +felt the jar of its body against their ship. Soft and vaporous, these +cloud-like serpents seemed as they drifted through space; yet the +impact, when they struck, proved that this new matter had mass.</p> + +<p>Chet saw the figure at the controls stagger back and cower in fear; +the man's bullet-shaped head was covered by his upraised arms: there +was some horror outside those windows that his eyes had no wish to +see. Beside him the towering figure of Schwartzmann appeared; he had +sprung into Chet's view, and he screamed orders at the fear-stricken +pilot.</p> + +<p>"Fool! Swine!" Schwartzmann<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> was shouting. "Do something! You said you +could fly this ship!" In desperation he leaped forward and reached for +the controls himself.</p> + +<p>Chet's blurred faculties snapped sharply to attention. That yellow +glow against the port—the jarring of their ship—it meant instant +destruction once that searching snout found some place where it could +secure a hold. If the air-pressure within the ship were released; if +even a crack were opened!—</p> + +<p>"Here, you!" he shouted to the frantic Schwartzmann who was jerking +frenziedly at the controls that no longer gave response. "Cut these +ropes!—leave those instruments alone, you fool!" He was suddenly +vibrant with hate as he realized what this man had done: he had struck +him, Chet, down as he would have felled an animal for butchery; he had +stolen their ship; and now he was losing it. Chet hardly thought of +his own desperate plight in his rage at this threat to their ship, and +at Schwartzmann's inability to help himself.</p> + +<p>"Cut these ropes!" he repeated. "Damn it all, turn me loose; I can fly +us out!" He added his frank opinion of Schwartzmann and all his men. +And Schwartzmann, though his dark face flushed angrily red for one +instant, leaped to Chet's side and slashed at the cords with a knife.</p> + +<p>The room swam before Chet's dizzy eyes as he came to his feet. He half +fell, half drew himself full length toward the valve that he alone +knew. Then again he was on his feet and he gripped at the ball-control +with one hand while he opened a master throttle that cut in this new +supply of explosive.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he room had been silent with the silence of empty space, save only +for the scraping of a horrid body across the ship's outer shell. The +silence was shattered now as if by the thunder of many guns. There +was no time for easing themselves into gradual flight. Chet thrust +forward on the ball-control, and the blast from their stern threw the +ship as if it had been fired from a giant cannon.</p> + +<p>The self-compensating floor swung back and up; Chet's weight was +almost unbearable as the ship beneath him leaped out and on, and the +terrific blast that screamed and thundered urged this speeding shell +to greater and still greater speed. And then, with the facility that +that speed gave, Chet's careful hands moved a tiny metal ball within +its magnetic cage, and the great ship bellowed from many ports as it +followed the motion of that ball.</p> + +<p>Could an eye have seen the wild, twisting flight, it must have seemed +as if pilot and ship had gone suddenly mad. The craft corkscrewed and +whirled; it leaped upward and aside; and, as the glowing mass was +thrown clear of the lookout, Chet's hand moved again to that maximum +forward position, and again the titanic blast from astern drove them +on and out.</p> + +<p>There were other shapes ahead, glowing lines of fire, luminous masses +like streamers of cloud that looped themselves into contorted forms +and writhed vividly until they straightened into sharp lines of speed +that bore down upon the fleeing craft and the human food that was +escaping these hungry snouts.</p> + +<p>Chet saw them dead ahead; he saw the out-thrust heads, each ending in +a great suction-cup, the row of disks that were eyes blazing above, +and the gaping maw below. He altered their course not a hair's breadth +as he bore down upon them, while the monsters swelled prodigiously +before his eyes. And the thunderous roar from astern came with never a +break, while the ship itself ceased its trembling protest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> against the +sudden blast and drove smoothly on and into the waiting beasts.</p> + +<p>There was a hardly perceptible thudding jar. They were free! And the +forward lookouts showed only the brilliant fires of distant suns and +one more glorious than the rest that meant a planet.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_c.jpg" alt="C" width="30" height="40" /></div> +<p>het turned at last to face Schwartzmann and his pilot where they had +clung helplessly to a metal stanchion. Four or five others crept in +from the cabin aft; their blanched faces told of the fear that bad +gripped them—fear of the serpents; fear, too, of the terrific plunges +into which the ship had been thrown. Chet Bullard drew the metal +control-ball back into neutral and permitted himself the luxury of a +laugh.</p> + +<p>"You're a fine bunch of highway-men," he told Schwartzmann; "you'll +steal a ship you can't fly; then come up here above the R. A. level +and get mixed up with those brutes. What's the idea? Did you think you +would just hop over to the Dark Moon? Some little plan like that in +your mind?"</p> + +<p>Again the dark, heavy face of Schwartzmann flushed deeply; but it was +his own men upon whom he turned.</p> + +<p>"You," he told the pilot—"you were so clever; you would knock this +man senseless! You would insist that you could fly the ship!"</p> + +<p>The pilot's eyes still bulged with the fear he had just experienced. +"But, Herr Schwartzmann, it was you who told me—"</p> + +<p>A barrage of unintelligible words cut his protest short. Schwartzmann +poured forth imprecations in an unknown tongue, then turned to the +others.</p> + +<p>"Back!" he ordered. "Bah!—such men! The danger it iss over—yess! +This pilot, he will take us back safely."</p> + +<p>He turned his attention now to the waiting Chet. "Herr Bullard, iss it +not—yess?"</p> + +<p>He launched into extended apologies—he had wanted a look at this so +marvelous ship—he had spied upon it; he admitted it. But this +murderous attack was none of his doing; his men had got out of hand; +and then he had thought it best to take Chet, unconscious as he was, +and return with him where he could have care.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p>nd Chet Bullard kept his eyes steadily upon the protesting man and +said nothing, but he was thinking of a number of things. There was +Walt's warning, "this Schwartzmann means mischief," and the faked +message that had brought him from the hospital to get the ship from +its hiding place; no, it was too much to believe. But Chet's eyes were +unchanging, and he nodded shortly in agreement as the other concluded.</p> + +<p>"You will take us back?" Schwartzmann was asking. "I will repay you +well for what inconvenience we have caused. The ship, you will return +it safely to the place where it was?"</p> + +<p>And Chet, after making and discarding a score of plans, knew there was +nothing else he could do. He swung the little metal ball into a +sharply-banked turn. The straight ray of light from an impossibly +brilliant sun struck now on a forward lookout; it shone across the +shoulder of a great globe to make a white, shining crescent as of a +giant moon. It was Earth; and Chet brought the bow-sights to bear on +that far-off target, while again the thunderous blast was built up to +drive them back along the trackless path on which they had come. But +he wondered, as he pressed forward on the control, what the real plan +of this man, Schwartzmann, might be....<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_l.jpg" alt="L" width="33" height="40" /></div> +<p>ess than half an hour brought them to the Repelling Area, and Chet +felt the upward surge as he approached it. Here, above this magnetic +field where gravitation's pull was nullified, had been the air-lanes +for fast liners. Empty lanes they were now; for the R. A., as the +flying fraternity knew it—the Heaviside Layer of an earlier +day—marked the danger line above which the mysterious serpents lay in +wait. Only the speed of Chet's ship saved them; more than one of the +luminous monsters was in sight as he plunged through the invisible R. +A. and threw on their bow-blast strongly to check their fall.</p> + +<p>Then, as he set a course that would take them to that section of the +Arctic waste where the ship had been, he pondered once more upon the +subject of this Schwartzmann of the shifty eyes and the glib tongue +and of his men who had "got out of hand" and had captured this ship.</p> + +<p>"Why in thunder are we back here?" Chet asked himself in perplexity. +"This big boy means to keep the ship; and, whatever his plans may have +been before, he will never stop short of the Dark Moon now that he has +seen the old boat perform. Then why didn't he keep on when he was +started? Had the serpents frightened him back?"</p> + +<p>He was still mentally proposing questions to which there seemed no +answer when he felt the pressure of a metal tube against his back. The +voice of Schwartzmann was in his ears.</p> + +<p>"This is a detonite pistol"—that voice was no longer unctuous and +self-deprecating—"one move and I'll plant a charge inside you that +will smash you to a jelly!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>here were hands that gripped Chet before he could turn; his arms were +wrenched backward; he was helpless in the grip of Schwartzmann's men. +The former pilot sprang forward.</p> + +<p>"Take control, Max!" Schwartzmann snapped; but he followed it with a +question while the pilot was reaching for the ball. "You can fly it +for sure, Max?"</p> + +<p>The man called Max answered confidently.</p> + +<p>"<i>Ja wohl!</i>" he said with eager assurance. "Up top there would have +been no trouble yet for that <i>verdammt, verloren</i> valve. That one +experimental trip is enough—I fly it!"</p> + +<p>Those who held Chet were binding his wrists. He was thrown to the +floor while his feet were tied, and, as a last precaution, a gag was +forced into his mouth. Schwartzmann left this work to his men. He paid +no attention to Chet; he was busy at the radio.</p> + +<p>He placed the sending-levers in strange positions that would effect a +blending of wave lengths which only one receiving instrument could +pick up. He spoke cryptic words into the microphone, then dropped into +a language that was unfamiliar to Chet. Yet, even then, it was plain +that he was giving instructions, and he repeated familiar words.</p> + +<p>"Harkness," Chet heard him say, and, "—Delacouer—<i>ja!</i>—Mam'selle +Delacouer!"</p> + +<p>Then, leaving the radio, he said, "Put my ship inside the hangar;" and +the pilot, Max, grounded their own ship to allow the men to leap out +and float into the big building the big aircraft in which Schwartzmann +had come.</p> + +<p>"Now close the doors!" their leader ordered. "Leave everything as it +was!" And to the pilot he gave added instructions: "There iss no air +traffic here. You will to forty thousand ascend, und you will wait +over this spot." Contemptuously he kicked aside the legs of the bound +man that he might walk back into the cabin.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he take-off was not as smooth as it would have been had Chet's slim +hands been on the controls; this burly one who handled them now was +not accustomed to such sensitivity. But Chet felt the ship lift and +lurch, then settle down to a swift, spiralling ascent. Now he lay +still as he tried to ponder the situation.</p> + +<p>"Now what dirty work are they up to?" he asked himself. He had seen a +sullen fury on the dark face of Herr Schwartzmann as he spoke the +names of Walt and Diane into the radio. Chet remembered the look now, +and he struggled vainly with the cords about his wrists. Even a +detonite pistol with its tiny grain of explosive in the end of each +bullet would not check him—not when Walt and Diane were endangered. +And the expression on that heavy, scowling face had told him all too +clearly that some real danger threatened.</p> + +<p>But the cords held fast on his swollen wrists. His head was still +throbbing; and even his side, not entirely healed, was adding to the +torment that beat upon him—beat and beat with his pulsing +blood—until the beating faded out into unconsciousness....</p> + +<p>Dimly he knew they were soaring still higher as their radio picked up +the warning of an approaching patrol ship; vaguely he realized that +they descended again to a level of observation. Chet knew in some +corner of his brain that Schwartzmann was watching from an under +lookout with a powerful glass, and he heard his excited command:</p> + +<p>"Down—go slowly, down!... They are landing.... They have entered the +hangar. Now, down with it, Max! Down! down!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he plunging fall of the ship roused Chet from his stupor. He felt the +jolt of the clumsy landing despite the snow-cushioned ground; he +heard plainly the exclamations from beyond an open port—the startled +oath in Walter Harkness' voice, and the stinging scorn in the words of +Diane Delacouer.</p> + +<p>Herr Schwartzmann had been in the employ of Mademoiselle Delacouer, +but he was taking orders no longer. There was a sound of scuffling +feet, and once the thud of a blow.... Then Chet watched with heavy, +hopeless eyes as the familiar faces of Diane and Walt appeared in the +doorway. Their hands were bound; they, too, were threatened with a +slim-barreled pistol in the hands of the smirking, exultant +Schwartzmann.</p> + +<p>A tall, thin-faced man whom Chet had not seen before followed them +into the room. The newcomer was motioned forward now, as Schwartzmann +called an order to the pilot:</p> + +<p>"All right; now we go, Max! Herr Doktor Kreiss will give you the +bearings; he knows his way among the stars."</p> + +<p>Herr Schwartzmann doubled over in laughing appreciation of his own +success before he straightened up and regarded his captives with cold +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Such a pleasure!" he mocked: "such charming passengers to take with +me on my first trip into space; this ship, it iss not so goot. I will +build better ships later on; I will let you see them when I shall come +to visit you."</p> + +<p>He laughed again at sight of the wondering looks in the eyes of the +three; stooping, he jerked the gag from Chet's mouth.</p> + +<p>"You do not understand," he exclaimed. "I should haff explained. You +see, <i>meine guten Freunde</i>, we go—ach!—you have guessed it already! +We go to the Dark Moon. I am pleased to take you with me on the trip +out; but coming back, I will have so much to bring—there will be no +room for passengers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I could have killed you here," he said; and his mockery gave place +for a moment to a savage tone, "but the patrol ships, they are +everywhere. But I have influence here und there—I arranged that your +flask of gas should be charged with explosive, I discredited you, and +yet I could not so great a risk take as to kill you all."</p> + +<p>"So came inspiration! I called your foolish young friend here from the +hospital. I ordered him to go at once to the ship hidden where I could +not find, and I signed the name of Herr Harkness."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_c.jpg" alt="C" width="30" height="40" /></div> +<p>het caught the silent glances of his friends who could yet smile +hopefully through the other emotions that possessed them. He ground +his teeth as the smooth voice of Herr Schwartzmann went on:</p> + +<p>"He led me here; the young fool! Then I sent for you—and this time I +signed his name—und you came. So simple!"</p> + +<p>"Und now we go in my ship to my new world. And," he added savagely, +"if one of you makes the least trouble, he will land on the Dark +Moon-yess!-but he will land hard, from ten thousand feet up!"</p> + +<p>The great generator was roaring. To Chet came the familiar lift of the +R. A. effect. They were beyond the R. A.; they were heading out and +away from Earth; and his friends were captives through his own +unconscious treachery, carried out into space in their own ship, with +the hands of an enemy gripping the controls....</p> + +<p>Chet's groan, as he turned his face away from the others who had tried +to smile cheerfully, had nothing to do with the pain of his body. It +was his mind that was torturing him.</p> + +<p>But he muttered broken words as he lay there, words that had reference +to one Schwartzmann. "I'll get him, damn him! I'll get him!" he was +promising himself.</p> + +<p>And Herr Schwartzmann who was clever, would have proved his cleverness +still more by listening. For a Master Pilot of the World does not get +his rating on vain boasts. He must know first his flying, his ships +and his air—but he is apt to make good in other ways as well.</p> + + +<h4>CHAPTER III</h4> +<h4><i>Out of Control</i></h4> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_w.jpg" alt="W" width="48" height="40" /></div> + +<p>alter Harkness had built this ship with Chet's help. They had +designed it for space-travel. It was the first ship to leave the Earth +under its own power, reach another heavenly body, and come back for a +safe landing. But they had not installed any luxuries for the +passengers.</p> + +<p>In the room where the three were confined, there were no +self-compensating chairs such as the high-liners used. But the +acceleration of the speeding ship was constant, and the rear wall +became their floor where they sat or paced back and forth. Their bonds +had been removed, and one of Harkness' hands was gripping Diane's +where they sat side by side. Chet was briskly limbering his cramped +muscles.</p> + +<p>He glanced at the two who sat silent nearby, and he knew what was in +their minds—knew that each was thinking of the other, forgetting +their own danger: and it was these two who had saved his life on their +first adventure out in space.</p> + +<p>Walt—one man who was never spoiled by his millions; and +Diane—straight and true as they make 'em! Some way, somehow, they +must be saved—thus ran his thoughts—but it looked bad for them all. +Schwartzmann?—no use kidding themselves about that lad; he was one +bad hombre. The best they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> could hope for was to be marooned on the +Dark Moon—left there to live or to die amid those savage +surroundings; and the worst that might happen—! But Chet refused to +think of what alternatives might occur to the ugly, distorted mind of +the man who had them at his mercy.</p> + +<p>There was no echo of these thoughts when he spoke; the smile that +flashed across his lean face brought a brief response from the +despondent countenances of his companions.</p> + +<p>"Well," Chet observed, and ran his hand through a tangle of blond +hair, "I have heard that the Schwartzmann lines give service, and I +reckon I heard right. Here we were wanting to go back to the Dark +Moon, and,"—he paused to point toward a black portlight where +occasional lights flashed past—"I'll say we're going; going somewhere +at least. All I hope is that that Maxie boy doesn't find the Dark Moon +at about ten thousand per. He may be a great little skipper on a nice, +slow, five-hundred-maximum freighter, but not on this boat. I don't +like his landings."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_d.jpg" alt="D" width="36" height="40" /></div> +<p>iane Delacouer raised her eyes to smile approvingly upon him. "You're +good, Chet," she said; "you are a darn good sport. They knock you down +out of control, and you nose right back up for a forty-thousand foot +zoom. And you try to carry us with you. Well, I guess it's time we got +over our gloom. Now what is going to happen?"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you," said Walter Harkness, looking at his watch: "if that +fool pilot of Schwartzmann's doesn't cut his stern thrust and build up +a bow resistance, we'll overshoot our mark and go tearing on a few +hundred thousand miles in space."</p> + +<p>Diane was playing up to Chet's lead.</p> + +<p>"<i>Bien!</i>" she exclaimed. "A few million, perhaps! Then we may see some +of those Martians we've been speculating about. I hear they are +handsome, my Walter—much better looking than you. Maybe this is all +for the best after all!"</p> + +<p>"Say," Harkness protested, "if you two idiots don't know enough to +worry as you ought, I don't see any reason why I should do all the +heavy worrying for the whole crowd. I guess you've got the right idea +at that: take what comes when it gets here—or when we get there."</p> + +<p>Small wonder, thought Chet, that Herr Schwartzmann stared at them in +puzzled bewilderment when he flung open the door, and took one long +stride into the room. Stocky, heavy-muscled, he stood regarding them, +a frown of suspicion drawing his face into ugly lines. Plainly he was +disturbed by this laughing good-humor where he had expected misery and +hopelessness and tears. He moved the muzzle of a detonite pistol back +and forth.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_y1.jpg" alt="Y" width="53" height="40" /></div> +<p>ou haff been drinking!" he stated at last. "You are intoxicated—all +of you!" His eyes darted searching glances about the little room that +was too bare to hide any cause for inebriation.</p> + +<p>It was Mam'selle Diane who answered him with an emphatic shake of her +dark head; an engaging smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "<i>Mais +non!</i> my dear Herr Schwartzmann," she assured him: "it is joy—just +happiness at again approaching our Moon—and in such good company, +too."</p> + +<p>"Fortunes of war, Schwartzmann," declared Harkness; "we know how to +accept them, and we don't hold it against you. We are down now, but +your turn will come."</p> + +<p>The man's reply was a sputtering of rage in words that neither Chet +nor Harkness could understand.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> The latter turned to the girl with a +question.</p> + +<p>"Did you get it, Diane? What did he say?"</p> + +<p>"I think I would not care to translate it literally," said Diane +Delacouer, twisting her soft mouth into an expression of distaste; +"but, speaking generally, he disagrees with you."</p> + +<p>Herr Schwartzmann was facing Harkness belligerently. "You think you +know something! What is it?" he demanded. "You are under my feet: I +kick you as I would <i>meinen Hund</i> and you can do nothing." He aimed a +savage kick into the air to illustrate his meaning, and Harkness' face +flushed suddenly scarlet.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_w.jpg" alt="W" width="48" height="40" /></div> +<p>hatever retort was on Harkness' tongue was left unspoken; a sharp +look from Chet, who brought his fingers swiftly to his lips in a +gesture of silence, checked the reply. The action was almost +unconscious on Chet's part; it was as unpremeditated as the sudden +thought that flashed abruptly into his mind—</p> + +<p>They were helpless; they were in this brute's power beyond the +slightest doubt. Schwartzmann's words, "You know something. What is +it?" had fired a swift train of thought.</p> + +<p>The idea was nebulous as yet ... but if they could throw a scare into +this man—make him think there was danger ahead.... Yes, that was it: +make Schwartzmann think they knew of dangers that he could not avoid. +They had been there before: make this man afraid to kill them. The +dreadful alternative that Chet had feared to think of might be +averted....</p> + +<p>All this came in an instantaneous, flashing correlation of his +conscious thoughts.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what we mean," he told Schwartzmann. He even leaned +forward to shake an impressive finger before the other's startled +face. "I'll tell you first of all that it doesn't make a damn bit of +difference who is on top—or it won't in a few hours more. We'll all +be washed out together.</p> + +<p>"I've landed once on the Dark Moon; I know what will happen. And do +you know how fast we are going? Do you know the Moon's speed as it +approaches? Had you thought what you will look like when that fool +pilot rams into it head on?</p> + +<p>"And that isn't all!" He grinned derisively into Schwartzmann's +flushed face, disregarding the half-raised pistol; it was as if some +secret thought had filled him with overpowering amusement. His broad +grin grew into a laugh. "That isn't all, big boy. What will you do if +you do land? What will you do when you open the ports and the—?" He +cut his words short, and the smile, with all other expression, was +carefully erased from his young face.</p> + +<p>"No, I reckon I won't spoil the surprise. We got through it all right; +maybe you will, too—maybe!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p>nd again it was Diane who played up to Chet's lead without a moment's +hesitation.</p> + +<p>"Chet," she demanded, "aren't you going to warn him? You would not +allow him and his men to be—"</p> + +<p>She stopped in apparent horror of the unsaid words; Chet gave her an +approving glance.</p> + +<p>"We'll see about that when we get there, Diane."</p> + +<p>He turned abruptly back to Schwartzmann. "I'll forget what a rotten +winner you have been; I'll help you out; I'll take the controls if you +like. Of course, your man, Max, may set us down without damage; then +again—"</p> + +<p>"Take them!" Schwartzmann ungraciously made an order of his +acceptance. "Take the controls, Herr Bullard! But if you make a +single<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> false move!" The menacing pistol completed the threat.</p> + +<p>But "Herr Bullard" merely turned to his companion with a level, +understanding look. "Come on," he said; "you can both help in working +out our location."</p> + +<p>He stepped before the burly man that Diane might precede them through +the door. And he felt the hand of Walt Harkness on his arm in a +pressure that told what could not be said aloud.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>here were pallid-faced men in the cabin through which they passed; +men who stared and stared from the window-ports into the black +immensity of space. Chet, too, stopped to look; there had been no +port-holes in that inner room where they had been confined.</p> + +<p>He knew what to expect; he knew how awe-inspiring would be the sight +of strange, luminous bodies—great islands of light—masses of +animaculae—that glowed suddenly, then melted again into velvet black. +A whirl of violet grew almost golden in sudden motion; Chet knew it +for an invisible monster of space. Glowingly luminous as it threw +itself upon a subtle mass of shimmering light, it faded like a +flickering flame, and went dark as its motion ceased.</p> + +<p>Life!—life everywhere in this ocean of space! And on every hand was +death. "Not surprising," Chet realized, "that these other Earthmen are +awed and trembling!"</p> + +<p>The sun was above them; its light struck squarely down through the +upper ports. This was polarized light—there was nothing outside to +reflect or refract it—and, coming as a straight beam from above, it +made a brilliant circle upon the floor from which it was diffused +throughout the room. It was as if the floor itself was the +illuminating agent.</p> + +<p>No eye could bear to look into the glare from above; nor was there +need, for the other ports drew the eyes with their black depths of +unplumbed space.</p> + +<p>Black!—so velvet as to seem almost tangible! Could one have reached +out a hand, that blackness, it seemed, must be a curtain that the hand +could draw aside, where unflickering points of light pricked through +the dark to give promise of some radiant glory beyond.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>hey had seen it before, these three, yet Chet caught the eyes of +Harkness and Diane and knew that his own eyes must share something of +the look he saw in theirs—something of reverent wonder and a strange +humility before this evidence of transcendent greatness.</p> + +<p>Their own immediate problem seemed gone. The tyranny of this glowering +human and his men—the efforts of the whole world and its struggling +millions—how absurdly unimportant it all was! How it faded to +insignificance! And yet....</p> + +<p>Chet came from the reverie that held him. There was one man by whom +this beauty was unseen. Herr Schwartzmann was angrily ordering them +on, and, surprisingly, Chet laughed aloud.</p> + +<p>This problem, he realized, was <i>his</i> problem—his to solve with the +help of the other two. And it was <i>not</i> insignificant; he knew with +some sudden wordless knowledge that there was nothing in all the great +scheme but that it had its importance. This vastness that was beyond +the power of human mind to grasp ceased to be formidable—he was part +of it. He felt buoyed up; and he led the way confidently toward the +control-room door where Schwartzmann stood.</p> + +<p>The scientist, whom Schwartzmann had called Herr Doktor Kreiss, was +beside the pilot. He was leaning forward to search the stars in the +blackness ahead, but the pilot turned often to stare through the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> rear +lookouts as if drawn in fearful fascination by what was there. Chet +took the controls at Schwartzmann's order; the pilot saluted with a +trembling hand and vanished into the cabin at the rear.</p> + +<p>"Ready for flying orders, Doctor," the new pilot told Herr Kreiss. +"I'll put her where you say—within reason."</p> + +<p>Behind him he heard the choked voice of Mademoiselle Diane: +"<i>Regardez! Ah, mon Dieu</i>, the beauty of it! This loveliness—it +hurts!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_o.jpg" alt="O" width="35" height="40" /></div> +<p>ne hand was pressed to her throat; her face was turned as the pilot's +had been that she might stare and stare at a quite impossible moon—a +great half-disk of light in the velvet dark.</p> + +<p>"This loveliness—it hurts!" Chet looked, too, and knew what Diane was +feeling. There was a catch of emotion in his own throat—a feeling +that was almost fear.</p> + +<p>A giant half-moon!—and he knew it was the Earth. Golden Earth-light +came to them in a flooding glory; the blazing sun struck on it from +above to bring out half the globe in brilliant gold that melted to +softest, iridescent, rainbow tints about its edge. Below, hung +motionless in the night, was another sphere. Like a reflection of +Earth in the depths of some Stygian lake, the old moon shone, too, in +a half-circle of light.</p> + +<p>Small wonder that these celestial glories brought a gasp of delight +from Diane, or drew into lines of fear the face of that other pilot +who saw only his own world slipping away. But Chet Bullard, Master +Pilot of the World, swung back to scan a star-chart that the scientist +was holding, then to search out a similar grouping in the black depths +into which they were plunging, and to bring the cross-hairs of a +rigidly mounted telescope upon that distant target.</p> + +<p>"How far?" he asked himself in a half-spoken thought, "—how far have +we come?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>here was an instrument that ticked off the seconds in this seemingly +timeless void. He pressed a small lever beside it, and, beneath a +glass that magnified the readings, there passed the time-tape. Each +hour and minute was there; each movement of the controls was +indicated; each trifling variation in the power of the generator's +blast. Chet made some careful computations and passed the paper to +Harkness, who tilted the time-tape recorder that he might see the +record.</p> + +<p>"Check this, will you, Walt?" Chet was asking. "It is based on the +time of our other trip, acceleration assumed as one thousand miles per +hour per hour out of air—"</p> + +<p>The scientist interrupted; he spoke in English that was carefully +precise.</p> + +<p>"It should lie directly ahead—the Dark Moon. I have calculated with +exactness."</p> + +<p>Walter Harkness had snatched up a pair of binoculars. He swung sharply +from lookout to lookout while he searched the heavens.</p> + +<p>"It's damned lucky for us that you made a slight error," Chet was +telling the other.</p> + +<p>"Error?" Kreiss challenged. "Impossible!"</p> + +<p>"Then you and I are dead right this minute," Chet told him. "We are +crossing the orbit of the Dark Moon—crossing at twenty thousand miles +per hour relative to Earth, slightly in excess of that figure relative +to the Dark Moon. If it had been here—!" He had been watching +Harkness anxiously; he bit off his words as the binoculars were thrust +into his hand.</p> + +<p>"There she comes," Harkness told him quietly; "it's up to you!"</p> + +<p>But Chet did not need the glasses. With his unaided eyes he could see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +a faint circle of violet light. It lay ahead and slightly above, and +it grew visibly larger as he watched. A ring of nothingness, whose +outline was the faintest shimmering halo; more of the distant stars +winked out swiftly behind that ghostly circle; it was the Dark +Moon!—and it was rushing upon them!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_c.jpg" alt="C" width="30" height="40" /></div> +<p>het swung an instrument upon it. He picked out a jet of violet light +that could be distinguished, and he followed it with the cross-hairs +while he twirled a micrometer screw; then he swiftly copied the +reading that the instrument had inscribed. The invisible disk with its +ghostly edge of violet was perceptibly larger as he slammed over the +control-ball to up-end them in air.</p> + +<p>Under the control-room's nitron illuminator the cheeks of Herr Doktor +Kreiss were pale and bloodless as if his heart had ceased to function. +Harkness had moved quietly back to the side of Diane Delacouer and was +holding her two hands firmly in his.</p> + +<p>The very air seemed charged with the quick tenseness of emotions. +Schwartzmann must have sensed it even before he saw the onrushing +death. Then he leaped to a lookout, and, an instant later, sprang at +Chet calmly fingering the control.</p> + +<p>"Fool!" he screamed, "you would kill us all? Turn away from it! Away +from it!"</p> + +<p>He threw himself in a frenzy upon the pilot. The detonite pistol was +still in his hand. "Quick!" he shouted. "Turn us!"</p> + +<p>Harkness moved swiftly, but the scientist, Kreiss, was nearer; it was +he who smashed the gun-hand down with a quick blow and snatched at the +weapon.</p> + +<p>Schwartzmann was beside himself with rage. "You, too?" he demanded. +"Giff it me—traitor!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_b.jpg" alt="B" width="34" height="40" /></div> +<p>ut the tall man stood uncompromisingly erect. "Never," he said, "have +I seen a ship large enough to hold two commanding pilots. I take your +orders in all things, Herr Schwartzmann—all but this. If we die—we +die."</p> + +<p>Schwartzmann sputtered: "We should haff turned away. Even yet we +might. It will—it will—"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," agreed Kreiss, still in that precise, class-room voice, +"perhaps it will. But this I know: with an acceleration of one +thousand m.p.h. as this young man with the badge of a Master Pilot +says, we cannot hope, in the time remaining, to overcome our present +velocity; we can never check our speed and build up a relatively +opposite motion before that globe would overwhelm us. If he has +figured correctly, this young man—if he has found the true resultant +of our two motions of approach—and if he has swung us that we may +drive out on a line perpendicular to the resultant—"</p> + +<p>"I think I have," said Chet quietly. "If I haven't, in just a few +minutes it won't matter to any of us; it won't matter at all." He met +the gaze of Herr Doktor Kreiss who regarded him curiously.</p> + +<p>"If we escape," the scientist told him, "you will understand that I am +under Herr Schwartzmann's command; I will be compelled to shoot you if +he so orders. But, Herr Bullard, at this moment I would be very proud +to shake your hand."</p> + +<p>And Chet, as he extended his hand, managed a grin that was meant also +for the tense, white-faced Harkness and Diane. "I like to see 'em +dealt that way," he said, "—right off the top of the deck."</p> + +<p>But the smile was erased as he turned back to the lookout. He had to +lean close to see all of the disk, so swiftly was the approaching +globe bearing down.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i.jpg" alt="I" width="16" height="40" /></div> +<p>t came now from the side; it swelled larger and larger before his +eyes. Their own ship seemed unmoving; only the unending thunder of the +generator told of the frantic efforts to escape. They seemed hung in +space; their own terrific speed seemed gone—added to and fused with +the orbital motion of the Dark Moon to bring swiftly closer that +messenger of death. The circle expanded silently; became menacingly +huge.</p> + +<p>Chet was whispering softly to himself: "If I'd got hold of her an hour +sooner—thirty minutes—or even ten.... We're doing over twenty +thousand an hour combined speed, and we'll never really hit it.... +We'll never reach the ground."</p> + +<p>He turned this over in his mind, and he nodded gravely in confirmation +of his own conclusions. It seemed somehow of tremendous importance +that he get this clearly thought out—this experience that was close +ahead.</p> + +<p>"Skin friction!" he added. "It will burn us up!"</p> + +<p>He had a sudden vision of a flaming star blazing a hot trail through +the atmosphere of this globe; there would be only savage eyes to +follow it—to see the line of fire curving swiftly across the +heavens.... He, himself, was seeing that blazing meteor so plainly....</p> + +<p>His eyes found the lookout: the globe was gone. They were +close—close! Only for the enveloping gas that made of this a dark +moon, they would be seeing the surface, the outlines of continents.</p> + +<p>Chet strained his eyes—to see nothing! It was horrible. It had been +fearful enough to watch that expanding globe.... He was abruptly aware +that the outer rim of the lookout was red!</p> + +<p>For Chet Bullard, time ceased to have meaning; what were seconds—or +centuries—as he stared at that glowing rim? He could not have told. +The outer shell of their ship—it was radiant—shining red-hot in the +night. And above the roar of the generator came a nerve-ripping +shriek. A wind like a blast from hell was battering and tearing at +their ship.</p> + +<p>"Good-by!" He had tried to call; the demoniac shrieking from without +smothered his voice. One arm was across his eyes in an unconscious +motion. The air of the little room was stifling. He forced his arm +down: he would meet death face to face.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he lookout was ringed with fire; it was white with the terrible white +of burning steel!—it was golden!—then cherry red! It was dying, as +the fire dies from glowing metal plunged in its tempering bath—or +thrown into the cold reaches of space!</p> + +<p>In Chet's ears was the roar of a detonite motor. He tried to realize +that the lookouts were rimmed with black—cold, fireless black! An +incredible black! There were stars there like pinpoints of flame! But +conviction came only when he saw from a lookout in another wall a +circle of violet that shrank and dwindled as he watched....</p> + +<p>A hand was gripping his shoulder; he heard the voice of Walter +Harkness speaking, while Walt's hand crept over to raise the triple +star that was pinned to his blouse.</p> + +<p>"Master Pilot of the World!" Harkness was saying. "That doesn't cover +enough territory, old man. It's another rating that you're entitled +to, but I'm damned if I know what it is."</p> + +<p>And, for once, Chet's ready smile refused to form. He stared dumbly at +his friend; his eyes passed to the white face of Mademoiselle Diane; +then back to the controls, where his hand, without conscious volition, +was reaching to move a metal ball.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Missed it!" he assured himself. "Hit the fringe of the air—just the +very outside. If we'd been twenty thousand feet nearer!..." He was +moving the ball; their bow was swinging. He steadied it and set the +ship on an approximate course.</p> + +<p>"A stern chase!" he said aloud. "All our momentum to be overcome—but +it's easy sailing now!"</p> + +<p>He pushed the ball forward to the limit, and the explosion-motor gave +thunderous response.</p> + + +<h4>CHAPTER IV</h4> +<h4><i>The Return to the Dark Moon</i></h4> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_n.jpg" alt="N" width="39" height="40" /></div> +<p>o man faces death in so shocking a form without feeling the effects. +Death had flicked them with a finger of flame and had passed them by. +Chet Bullard found his hands trembling uncontrollably as he fumbled +for a book and opened it. The tables of figures printed there were +blurred at first to his eyes, but he forced himself to forget the +threat that was past, for there was another menace to consider now.</p> + +<p>And uppermost in his mind, when his thoughts came back into some +approximate order, was condemnation of himself for an opportunity that +was gone.</p> + +<p>"I could have jumped him," he told himself with bitter self-reproach; +"I could have grabbed the pistol from Kreiss—the man was petrified." +And then Chet had to admit a fact there was no use of denying: "I was +as paralyzed as he was," he said, and only knew he had spoken aloud +when he saw the puzzled look that crossed Harkness' face.</p> + +<p>Harkness and Diane had drawn near. In a far corner of the little room +Schwartzmann had motioned to Kreiss to join him; they were as far away +from the others as could be managed. Schwartzmann, Chet judged, needed +some scientific explanation of these disturbing events; also he +needed to take the detonite pistol from Kreiss' hand and jam it into +his own hand. His eyes, at Chet's unconscious exclamation, had come +with instant suspicion toward the two men.</p> + +<p>"Forty-seven hours, Walt," the pilot said, and repeated it loudly for +Schwartzmann's benefit; "—forty-seven hours before we return to this +spot. We are driving out into space; we've crossed the orbit of the +Dark Moon, and we're doing twenty thousand miles an hour.</p> + +<p>"Now we must decelerate. It will take twenty hours to check us to zero +speed; then twenty-seven more to shoot us back to this same point +in space, allowing, of course, for a second deceleration. The same +figuring with only slight variation will cover a return to the Dark +Moon. As we sweep out I can allow for the moon-motion, and we'll hit +it at a safe landing speed on the return trip this time."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_c.jpg" alt="C" width="30" height="40" /></div> +<p>het was paying little attention to his companion as he spoke. His +eyes, instead, were covertly watching the bulky figure of +Schwartzmann. As he finished, their captor shot a volley of questions +at the scientist beside him; he was checking up on the pilot's +remarks.</p> + +<p>Chet was leaning forward to stare intently from a lookout, his head +was close to that of Harkness.</p> + +<p>"Listen, Walt," he whispered; "the Moon's out of sight; it's easy to +lose. Maybe I can't find it again, anyway—it's going to take some +nice navigating—but I'll miss it by ten thousand miles if you say so, +and even the Herr Doktor can't check me on it."</p> + +<p>Chet saw the eyes of Schwartzmann grow intent. He reached +ostentatiously for another book of tables, and he seated himself that +he might figure in comfort.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Just check me on this," he told Harkness.</p> + +<p>He put down meaningless figures, while the man beside him remained +silent. Over and over he wrote them—would Harkness never reach a +decision?—over and over, until—</p> + +<p>"I don't agree with that," Harkness told him and reached for the +stylus in Chet's hand. And, while he appeared to make his own swift +computations, there were words instead of figures that flowed from his +pen.</p> + +<p>"Only alternative: return to Earth," he wrote. "Then S will hold off; +wait in upper levels. Kreiss will give him new bearings. We'll shoot +out again and do it better next time. Kreiss is nobody's fool. S means +to maroon us on Moon—kill us perhaps. He'll get us there, sure. We +might as well go now."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_c.jpg" alt="C" width="30" height="40" /></div> +<p>het had seen a movement across the room. "Let's start all over +again," he broke in abruptly. He covered the writing with a clean +sheet of paper where he set down more figures. He was well under way +when Schwartzmann's quick strides brought him towering above them. +Again the detonite pistol was in evidence; its small black muzzle +moved steadily from Harkness to Chet.</p> + +<p>"For your life—such as is left of it—you may thank Herr Doktor +Kreiss," he told Chet. "I thought at first you would have attempted to +kill us." His smile, as he regarded them, seemed to Chet to be +entirely evil. "You were near death twice, my dear Herr Bullard; and +the danger is not entirely removed.</p> + +<p>"'Forty-seven hours' you have said; in forty-seven hours you will land +us on the Dark Moon. If you do not,"—he raised the pistol +suggestively—"remember that the pilot, Max, can always take us back +to Earth. You are not indispensable."</p> + +<p>Chet looked at the dark face and its determined and ominous scowl. +"You're a cheerful sort of soul, aren't you?" he demanded. "Do you +have any faint idea of what a job this is? Do you know we will shoot +another two hundred thousand miles straight out before I can check +this ship? Then we come back; and meanwhile the Dark Moon has gone on +its way. Had you thought that there's a lot of room to get lost in out +here?"</p> + +<p>"Forty-seven hours!" said Schwartzmann. "I would advise that you do +not lose your way."</p> + +<p>Chet shot one quizzical glance at Harkness.</p> + +<p>"That," he said, "makes it practically unanimous."</p> + +<p>Schwartzmann, with an elaborate show of courtesy, escorted Diane +Delacouer to a cabin where she might rest. At a questioning look +between Diane and Harkness, their captor reassured them.</p> + +<p>"Mam'selle shall be entirely safe," he said. "She may join you here +whenever she wishes. As for you,"—he was speaking to Harkness—"I +will permit you to stay here. I could tie you up but this iss not +necessary."</p> + +<p>And Harkness must have agreed that it was indeed unnecessary, for +either Kreiss or Max, or some other of Schwartzmann's men, was at his +side continuously from that moment on.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_c.jpg" alt="C" width="30" height="40" /></div> +<p>het would have liked a chance for a quiet talk and an exchange of +ideas. It seemed that somewhere, somehow, he should be able to find an +answer to their problem. He stared moodily out into the blackness +ahead, where a distant star was seemingly their goal. Harkness stood +at his side or paced back and forth in the little room, until he threw +himself, at last, upon a cot.</p> + +<p>And always the great stern-blast roared; muffled by the insulated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +walls, its unceasing thunder came at last to be unheard. To the pilot +there was neither sound nor motion. His directional sights were +unswervingly upon that distant star ahead. Seemingly they were +suspended, helpless and inert, in a black void. But for the occasional +glowing masses of strange living substance that flashed past in this +ocean of space, he must almost have believed they were motionless—a +dead ship in a dead, black night.</p> + +<p>But the luminous things flashed and were gone—and their coming, +strangely, was from astern; they flicked past and vanished up ahead. +And, by this, Chet knew that their tremendous momentum was unchecked. +Though he was using the great stern blast to slow the ship, it was +driving stern-first into outer space. Nor, for twenty hours, was there +a change, more than a slackening of the breathless speed with which +the lights went past.</p> + +<p>Twenty hours—and then Chet knew that they were in all truth hung +motionless, and he prayed that his figures that told him this were +correct.... More timeless minutes, an agony of waiting—and a +dimly-glowing mass that was ahead approached their bow, swung off and +vanished far astern. And, with its going, Chet knew that the return +trip was begun.</p> + +<p>He gave Harkness the celestial bearing marks and relinquished the +helm. "Full speed ahead as you are," he ordered: "then at +nineteen-forty on W.S. time, we'll cut it and ease on bow repulsion to +the limit."</p> + +<p>And, despite the strangeness of their surroundings, the ceaseless, +murmuring roar of the exhaust, the weird world outside, where endless +space was waiting for man's exploration—despite the deadly menace +that threatened, Chet dropped his head upon his outflung arms and +slept.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>o his sleep-drugged brain it was scarcely a moment until a hand was +dragging at his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Forty-seven hours!" the voice of Schwartzmann was saying.</p> + +<p>And: "Some navigating!" Harkness was exclaiming in flattering +amazement. "Wake up, Chet! Wake up! The Dark Moon's in sight. You've +hit it on the nose, old man: she isn't three points off the sights!"</p> + +<p>The bow-blast was roaring full on. Ahead of them Chet's sleepy eyes +found a circle of violet; and he rubbed his eyes savagely that he +might take his bearings on Sun and Earth.</p> + +<p>As it had been before, the Earth was a giant half-moon; like a +mirror-sphere it shot to them across the vast distance the reflected +glory of the sun. But the globe ahead was a ghostly world. Its black +disk was lost in the utter blackness of space. It was a circle, marked +only by the absence of star-points and by the halo of violet glow that +edged it about.</p> + +<p>Chet cut down the repelling blast. He let the circle enlarge, then +swung the ship end for end in mid-space that the more powerful stern +exhaust might be ready to counteract the gravitational pull of the new +world.</p> + +<p>Again those impalpable clouds surrounded them. Here was the enveloping +gas that made this a dark moon—the gas, if Harkness' theory was +correct, that let the sun's rays pass unaltered; that took the light +through freely to illumine this globe, but that barred its return +passage as reflected light.</p> + +<p>Black—dead black was the void into which they were plunging, until +the darkness gave way before a gentle glow that enfolded their ship. +The golden light enveloped them in growing splendor. Through every +lookout it was flooding the cabin with brilliant rays, until, from +below them, directly astern of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> ship, where the thundering blast +checked their speed of descent, emerged a world.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p>nd, to Chet Bullard, softly fingering the controls of the first ship +of space—to Chet Bullard, whose uncanny skill had brought the tiny +speck that was their ship safely back from the dark recesses of the +unknown—there came a thrill that transcended any joy of the first +exploration.</p> + +<p>Here was water in great seas of unreal hue—and those seas were his! +Vast continents, ripe for adventure and heavy with treasure—and they, +too, were his! His own world—his and Diane's and Walt's! Who was this +man, Schwartzmann, that dared dream of violating their possessions?</p> + +<p>A slender tube pressed firmly, uncompromisingly, into his back to give +the answer to his question. "Almost I wish you had missed it!" Herr +Schwartzmann was saying. "But now you will land; you will set us down +in some place that you know. No tricks, Herr Bullard! You are clever, +but not clever enough for that. We will land, yess, where you know it +is safe."</p> + +<p>From the lookout, the man stared for a moment with greedy eyes; then +brought his gaze back to the three. His men, beside Harkness and +Diane, were alert; the scientist, Kreiss, stood close to Chet.</p> + +<p>"A nice little world," Schwartzmann told them. "Herr Harkness, you +have filed claims on it; who am I to dispute with the great Herr +Harkness? Without question it iss yours!"</p> + +<p>He laughed loudly, while his eyes narrowed between creasing wrinkles +of flesh. "You shall enjoy it," he told them; "—all your life."</p> + +<p>And Chet, as he caught the gaze of Harkness and Diane, wondered how +long this enjoyment would last. "All your life!" But this was rather +indefinite as a measure of time.</p> + + +<h4>CHAPTER V</h4> +<h4><i>A Desperate Act</i></h4> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he ship that Chet Bullard and Harkness had designed had none of the +instruments for space navigation that the ensuing years were to bring. +Chet's accuracy was more the result of that flyer's sixth sense—that +same uncanny power that had served aviators so well in an earlier day. +But Chet was glad to see his instruments registering once more as he +approached a new world.</p> + +<p>Even the sonoflector was recording; its invisible rays were darting +downward to be reflected back again from the surface below. That +absolute altitude recording was a joy to read; it meant a definite +relationship with the world.</p> + +<p>"I'll hold her at fifty thousand," he told Harkness. "Watch for some +outline that you can remember from last time."</p> + +<p>There was an irregular area of continental size; only when they had +crossed it did Harkness point toward an outflung projection of land. +"That peninsula," he exclaimed; "we saw that before! Swing south and +inland.... Now down forty, and east of south.... This ought to be the +spot."</p> + +<p>Perhaps Harkness, too, had the flyer's indefinable power of +orientation. He guided Chet in the downward flight, and his pointing +finger aimed at last at a cluster of shadows where a setting sun +brought mountain ranges into strong relief. Chet held the ship steady, +hung high in the air, while the quick-spreading mantle of night swept +across the world below. And, at last, when the little world was +deep-buried in shadow, they saw the red glow of fires from a hidden +valley in the south.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Fire Valley!" said Chet. "Don't say anything about me being a +navigator. Wait, you've brought us home, sure enough."</p> + +<p>"Home!" He could not overcome this strange excitement of a home-coming +to their own world. Even the man who stood, pistol in hand, behind him +was, for the moment, forgotten.</p> + +<p>Valley of a thousand fires!—scene of his former adventures! Each +fumerole was adding its smoky red to the fiery glow that illumined the +place. There were ragged mountains hemming it in; Chet's gaze passed +on to the valley's end.</p> + +<p>Down there, where the fires ceased, there would be water; he would +land there! And the ship from Earth slipped down in a long slanting +line to cushion against its under exhausts, whose soft thunder echoed +back from a bare expanse of frozen lava. Then its roaring faded. The +silvery shape sank softly to its rocky bed, as Chet cut the motor that +had sung its song of power since the moment when Schwartzmann had +carried him off—taken him from that frozen, forgotten corner of an +incredibly distant Earth.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_i1.jpg" alt="I" width="35" height="40" /></div> +<p>ss there air?" Schwartzmann demanded. Chet came to himself again +with a start: he saw the man peering from the lookout to right and to +left as if he would see all that there was in the last light of day.</p> + +<p>"Strange!" he was grumbling to himself. "A strange place! But those +hills—I saw their markings—there will be metals there. I will +explore; later I return: I will mine them. Many ships I must build to +establish a line. The first transportation line of space. Me, Jacob +Schwartzmann—I will do it. I will haff more than anyone else on +Earth; I will make them all come to me crawling on their bellies!"</p> + +<p>Chet saw the hard shine of the narrowed eyes. For an instant only, he +dared to consider the chance of leaping upon the big, gloating figure. +One blow and a quick snatch for the pistol!... Then he knew the folly +of such a plan: Schwartzmann's men were armed; he would be downed in +another second, his body a shattered, jellied mass.</p> + +<p>Schwartzmann's thoughts had come back to the matter of air; he +motioned Chet and Harkness toward the port.</p> + +<p>Diane Delacouer had joined them and she thrust herself quickly between +the two men. And, though Schwartzmann made a movement as if he would +snatch her back, he thought better of it and motioned for the portal +to be swung. Chet felt him close behind as he followed the others out +into the gathering dark.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he air was heavy with the fragrance of night-blooming trees. They +were close to the edge of the lava flow. The rock was black in the +light of a starry sky; it dropped away abruptly to a lower glade. A +stream made silvery sparklings in the night, while beyond it were +waving shadows of strange trees whose trunks were ghostly white.</p> + +<p>It was all so familiar.... Chet smiled understandingly as he saw Walt +Harkness' arm go about the trim figure of Diane Delacouer. No mannish +attire could disguise Diane's charms; nor could nerve and cold courage +that any man might envy detract from her femininity. Her dark, curling +hair was blowing back from her upraised face as the scented breezes +played about her; and the soft beauty of that face was enhanced by the +very starlight that revealed it.</p> + +<p>It was here that Walt and Diane had learned to love; what wonder that +the fragrant night brought only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> remembrance, and forgetfulness of +their present plight. But Chet Bullard, while he saw them and smiled +in sympathy, knew suddenly that other eyes were watching, too; he felt +the bulky figure of Herr Schwartzmann beside him grow tense and rigid.</p> + +<p>But Schwartzmann's voice, when he spoke, was controlled. "All right," +he called toward the ship; "all iss safe."</p> + +<p>Yet Chet wondered at that sudden tensing, and an uneasy presentiment +found entrance to his thoughts. He must keep an eye on Schwartzmann, +even more than he had supposed.</p> + +<p>Their captor had threatened to maroon them on the Dark Moon. Chet did +not question his intent. Schwartzmann would have nothing to gain by +killing them now. It would be better to leave them here, for he might +find them useful later on. But did he plan to leave them all or only +two? Behind the steady, expressionless eyes of the Master Pilot, +strange thoughts were passing....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>here were orders, at length, to return to the ship. "It is dark +already," Schwartzmann concluded: "nothing can be accomplished at +night."</p> + +<p>"How long are the days and nights?" he asked Harkness.</p> + +<p>"Six hours," Harkness told him; "our little world spins fast."</p> + +<p>"Then for six hours we sleep," was the order. And again Herr +Schwartzmann conducted Mademoiselle Delacouer to her cabin, while Chet +Bullard watched until he saw the man depart and heard the click of the +lock on the door of Diane's room.</p> + +<p>Then for six hours he listened to the sounds of sleeping men who were +sprawled about him on the floor; for six hours he saw the one man who +sat on guard beside a light that made any thought of attack absurd. +And he cursed himself for a fool, as he lay wakeful and vainly +planning—a poor, futile fool who was unable to cope with this man who +had bested him.</p> + +<p>Nineteen seventy-three!—and here were Harkness and Diane and himself, +captured by a man who was mentally and morally a misfit in a modern +world. A throw-back—that was Schwartzmann: Harkness had said it. He +belonged back in nineteen fourteen.</p> + +<p>Harkness was beyond the watching guard; from where he lay came sounds +of restless movement. Chet knew that he was not alone in this mood of +hopeless dejection. There was no opportunity for talk; only with the +coming of day did the two find a chance to exchange a few quick words.</p> + +<p>The guard roused the others at the first light of sunlight beyond the +ports. Harkness sauntered slowly to where Chet was staring from a +lookout. He, too, leaned to see the world outside, and he spoke +cautiously in a half-whisper:</p> + +<p>"Not a chance, Chet. No use trying to bluff this big crook any more. +He's here, and he's safe; and he knows it as well as we do. We'll let +him ditch us—you and Diane and me. Then, when we're on our own, we'll +watch our chance. He will go crazy with what he finds—may get +careless—then we'll seize the ship—" His words ended abruptly. As +Schwartzmann came behind them, he was casually calling Chet's +attention to a fumerole from which a jet of vapor had appeared. +Yellowish, it was; and the wind was blowing it.</p> + +<p>Chet turned away; he hardly saw Schwartzmann or heard Harkness' words. +He was thinking of what Walt had said. Yes, it was all they could do; +there was no chance of a fight with them now. But later!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p> + +<p>Diane Delacouer came into the control-room at the instant; her dark +eyes were still lovely with sleep, but they brightened to flash an +encouraging smile toward the two men. There were five of +Schwartzmann's men in the ship besides the pilot and the scientist, +Kreiss. They all crowded in after Diane.</p> + +<p>They must have had their orders in advance; Schwartzmann merely +nodded, and they sprang upon Harkness and Chet. The two were caught +off their guard; their arms were twisted behind them before resistance +could be thought of. Diane gave a cry, started forward, and was +brushed back by a sweep of Schwartzmann's arm. The man himself stood +staring at them, unmoving, wordless. Only the flesh about his eyes +gathered into creases to squeeze the eyes to malignant slits. There +was no mistaking the menace in that look.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_i1.jpg" alt="I" width="35" height="40" /></div> +<p> think we do not need you any more," he said at last. "I think, Herr +Harkness, this is the end of our little argument—and, Herr Harkness, +you lose. Now, I will tell you how it iss that you pay.</p> + +<p>"You haff thought, perhaps, I would kill you. But you were wrong, as +you many times have been. You haff not appreciated my kindness; you +haff not understood that mine iss a heart of gold.</p> + +<p>"Even I was not sure before we came what it iss best to do. But now I +know. I saw oceans and many lands on this world. I saw islands in +those oceans.</p> + +<p>"You so clever are—such a great thinker iss Herr Harkness—and on one +of those islands you will haff plenty of time to think—yess! You can +think of your goot friend, Schwartzmann and of his kindness to you."</p> + +<p>"You are going to maroon us on an island?" asked Walt Harkness +hoarsely. Plainly his plans for seizing the ship were going awry. "You +are going to put the three of us off in some lost corner of this +world?"</p> + +<p>Chet Bullard was silent until he saw the figure of Harkness struggling +to throw off his two guards. "Walt," he called loudly, "take it easy! +For God's sake, Walt, keep your head!"</p> + +<p>This, Chet sensed, was no time for resistance. Let Schwartzmann go +ahead with his plans; let him think them complacent and unresisting; +let Max pilot the ship; then watch for an opening when they could land +a blow that would count! He heard Schwartzmann laughing now, laughing +as if he were enjoying something more pleasing than the struggles of +Walt.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_c.jpg" alt="C" width="30" height="40" /></div> +<p>het was standing by the controls. The metal instrument-table was +beside him; above it was the control itself, a metal ball that hung +suspended in air within a cage of curved bars.</p> + +<p>It was pure magic, this ball-control, where magnetic fields crossed +and recrossed; it was as if the one who held it were a genie who could +throw the ship itself where he willed. Glass almost enclosed the cage +of bars, and the whole instrument swung with the self-compensating +platform that adjusted itself to the "gravitation" of accelerated +speed. The pilot, Max, had moved across to the instrument-table, ready +for the take-off.</p> + +<p>Schwartzmann's laughter died to a gurgling chuckle. He wiped his eyes +before he replied to Harkness' question.</p> + +<p>"Leave you," he said, "in one place? <i>Nein!</i> One here, the other +there. A thousand miles apart, it might be. And not all three of you. +That would be so unkind—"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p> + +<p>He interrupted himself to call to Kreiss who was opening the port.</p> + +<p>"No," he ordered; "keep it closed. We are not going outside; we are +going up."</p> + +<p>But Kreiss had the port open. "I want a man to get some fresh water," +he said; "he will only be a minute."</p> + +<p>He shoved at a waiting man to hurry him through the doorway. It was +only a gentle push; Chet wondered as he saw the man stagger and grasp +at his throat. He was coughing—choking horribly for an instant +outside the open port—then fell to the ground, while his legs jerked +awkwardly, spasmodically.</p> + +<p>Chet saw Kreiss follow. The scientist would have leaped to the side of +the stricken man, whose body was so still now on the sunlit rock; but +he, too, crumpled, then staggered back into the room. He pushed feebly +at the port and swung it shut. His face, as he turned, was drawn into +fearful lines.</p> + +<p>"Acid!" He choked out the words between strangled breaths. +"Acid—sulfuric—fumes!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_c.jpg" alt="C" width="30" height="40" /></div> +<p>het turned quickly to the spectro-analyzer; the lines of oxygen and +nitrogen were merged with others, and that meant an atmosphere unfit +for human lungs! There had been a fumerole where yellowish vapor was +spouting; he remembered it now.</p> + +<p>"So!" boomed Schwartzmann, and now his squinting eyes were full on +Chet. "You—you <i>schwein!</i> You said when we opened the ports there +would be a surprise! Und this iss it! You thought to see us kill +ourselves!"</p> + +<p>"Open the port!" he shouted. The men who held Chet released him and +sprang forward to obey. The pilot, Max, took their place. He put one +hand on Chet's shoulder, while his other hand brought up a +threatening, metal bar.</p> + +<p>Schwartzmann's heavy face had lost its stolid look; it was alive with +rage. He thrust his head forward to glare at the men, while he stood +firmly, his feet far apart, two heavy fists on his hips. He whirled +abruptly and caught Diane by one arm. He pulled her roughly to him and +encircled the girl's trim figure with one huge arm.</p> + +<p>"Put you <i>all</i> on one island?" he shouted. "Did you think I would put +you <i>all</i> out of the ship? You"—he pointed at Harkness—"and +you"—this time it was Chet—"go out now. You can die in your damned +gas that you expected would kill me! But, you fools, you +imbeciles—Mam'selle, she stays with me!" The struggling girl was +helpless in the great arm that drew her close.</p> + +<p>Harkness' mad rage gave place to a dead stillness. From bloodless lips +in a chalk-white face he spat out one sentence:</p> + +<p>"Take your filthy hands off her—now—or I'll—"</p> + +<p>Schwartzmann's one free hand still held the pistol. He raised it with +deadly deliberation; it came level with Harkness' unflinching eyes.</p> + +<p>"Yes?" said Schwartzmann. "You will do—what?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_c.jpg" alt="C" width="30" height="40" /></div> +<p>het saw the deadly tableau. He knew with a conviction that gripped +his heart that here was the end. Walt would die and he would be next. +Diane would be left defenseless.... The flashing thought that followed +came to him as sharply as the crack of any pistol. It seemed to burst +inside his brain, to lift him with some dynamic power of its own and +project him into action.</p> + +<p>He threw himself sideways from under the pilot's hand, out from +beneath the heavy metal bar—and he whirled, as he leaped, to face the +man. One lean, brown hand clenched to a fist that started a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> long +swing from somewhere near his knees; it shot upward to crash beneath +the pilot's out-thrust jaw and lift him from the floor. Max had aimed +the bar in a downward sweep where Chet's head had been the moment +before; and now man and bar went down together. In the same instant +Chet threw himself upon the weapon and leaped backward to his feet.</p> + +<p>One frozen second, while, to Chet, the figures seemed as motionless as +if carved from stone—two men beside the half-opened port—Harkness in +convulsive writhing between two others—the figure of Diane, strained, +tense and helpless in Schwartzmann's grasp—and Schwartzmann, whose +aim had been disturbed, steadying the pistol deliberately upon +Harkness—</p> + +<p>"Wait!" Chet's voice tore through the confusion. He knew he must grip +Schwartzmann's attention—hold that trigger finger that was tensed to +send a detonite bullet on its way. "Wait, damn you! I'll answer your +question. I'll tell you what we'll do!"</p> + +<p>In that second he had swung the metal bar high; now he brought it +crashing down in front of him. Schwartzmann flinched, half turned as +if to fire at Chet, and saw the blow was not for him.</p> + +<p>With a splintering crash, the bar went through an obstruction. There +was sound of glass that slivered to a million mangled bits—the sharp +tang of metal broken off—a crash and clatter—then silence, save for +one bit of glass that fell belatedly to the floor, its tiny jingling +crash ringing loud in the deathly stillness of the room....</p> + +<p>It had been the control-room, this place of metal walls and of +shining, polished instruments, and it could be called that no longer. +For, battered to useless wreckage, there lay on a metal table a cage +that had once been formed of curving bars. Among the fragments a metal +ball that had guided the great ship still rocked idly from its fall, +until it, too, was still.</p> + +<p>It was a room where nothing moved—where no person so much as +breathed....</p> + +<p>Then came the Master Pilot's voice, and it was speaking with quiet +finality.</p> + +<p>"And that," he said, "is your answer. Our ship has made its last +flight."</p> + +<p>His eyes held steadily upon the blanched face of Herr Schwartzmann, +whose limp arms released the body of Diane; the pistol hung weakly at +the man's side. And the pilot's voice went on, so quiet, so hushed—so +curiously toneless in that silent room.</p> + +<p>"What was it that you said?—that Harkness and I would be staying +here? Well, you were right when you said that, Schwartzmann; but it's +a hard sentence, that—imprisonment for life."</p> + +<p>Chet paused now, to smile deliberately, grimly at the dark face so +bleached and bloodless, before he repeated:</p> + +<p>"Imprisonment for life!—and you didn't know that you were sentencing +yourself. For you're staying too, Schwartzmann, you contemptible, +thieving dog! You're staying with us—here—on the Dark Moon!"</p> + +<p class="center">(<i>To be continued.</i>)</p> +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/image_006.jpg" width="300" height="82" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="If_The_Sun_Died" id="If_The_Sun_Died"></a>If The Sun Died</h2> + +<h3><i>By R. F. Starzl</i></h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/image_007.jpg" width="450" height="493" alt="Crack! Again Mich'l's fist caught him." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Crack! Again Mich'l's fist caught him.</span> +</div> +<p> </p> + +<div class="sidenote">Tens of millenniums after the Death of the Sun there comes +a young man who dares to open the Frozen Gate of Subterranea.</div> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_b1.jpg" alt="B" width="43" height="50" /></div> +<p>y our system of time we would have called it around 65,000 A. D., but +in this cavern world, miles below the long-forgotten surface of the +earth, it was 49,889. Since the Death of the Sun. That legendary sun +was but a dim racial memory, but the 24-hour day, based on its +illusory travel across the sky, was still maintained by uranium +clocks, by which the myriads who dwelt in the galleries and maze of +the under-world warrens regulated their lives.</p> + +<p>In the office of the nation's central electro-plant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> sat a young man. +He was unoccupied at the moment. He was an example of the marvelously +slow process of evolution, for, to all outward appearances he differed +little from a Twentieth Century man. Keen intelligence sat on his +fine-cut, kindly young face. In general build he was lighter, more +refined than a man of the past. Yet even the long, delicately colored +robe of mineral silk which he wore could not detract from his obvious +virility and strength.</p> + +<p>His face flashed in a smile when a girl suddenly appeared in the +middle of the room, materializing, so it seemed, out of nowhere. She +resembled him to some extent, except that she was exquisitely +feminine, dark-haired, with a skin of warm ivory, while he was blond +and ruddy. Her tinkling, silvery voice was troubled as she asked:</p> + +<p>"Have I your leave to stay, Mich'l Ares?"</p> + +<p>The look of adoration he gave her was answer enough, but he answered +with the conventional formula, "It is given." He rose to his feet, +walked right through the seemingly solid vision and made an adjustment +on a bank of dials. Then he walked through the apparition again and, +standing beside his chair, looked at her inquiringly.</p> + +<p>"You haven't forgotten, Mich'l, this is the day of the Referendum?"</p> + +<p>Mich'l smiled slightly. It would be a day of confusion in Subterranea +if he should forget. As chief of the technies he was in direct charge +of the tabulating machines that would, a few seconds after the vote, +give the result in the matter of the opening of the Frozen Gate. But +the girl's concern sobered him instantly. On the decision of the +people at noon depended the life work of her father, Senator Mane. And +it was now nine o'clock.</p> + +<p>"I am sure they will order the Gate opened," he said instantly. "All +the technies are agreed that your father is right, that the Great +Cold was only another, more severe ice age—not the death of the Sun. +The technies—"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_j.jpg" alt="J" width="26" height="40" /></div> +<p>ust as the girl had seemingly materialized, a young man now stood +beside her. In appearance he was a picture of pride, power, arrogance, +and definite danger. His hawk-like, patrician features were smiling. +This olive-skinned, dark young rival of Mich'l was Lane Mollon, son of +Senator Mollon, ruthless administration leader and bitter opponent of +Senator Mane's Exodus faction.</p> + +<p>Lane looked at Mich'l insolently.</p> + +<p>"Have I your leave to stay, Mich'l Ares?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"It is given," said Mich'l without enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"I'm not calling on you of my own will, Mich'l," the apparition of +young Mollon said contemptuously, "but Nida had the telucid turned on +as I stepped into the room."</p> + +<p>"It's as well for you that you're not here personally," Mich'l replied +promptly. "The last time we met I believe I was obliged to knock you +down."</p> + +<p>Lane Mollon flushed, with a sidelong glance at Nida. The girl gave +Mich'l a frightened look.</p> + +<p>Lane interpreted her concern rightly.</p> + +<p>"Ordinarily it's not safe to try anything like that with me. I could +have you executed in half an hour. But I don't have to call on the +State to punish you. Nida, you'll admit I'm taking no unfair advantage +of him?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I do, Lane, but—"</p> + +<p>Lane reached out his hand to the dial, invisible to Mich'l, which +operated the telucid apparatus, and immediately the apparitions +vanished. Mich'l looked at his own telucid, its great unwinking eye +set in the wall. But he did not project his own illusory body to the +girl's home. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> was a technie—one of the pitifully few trained men +and women who kept the intricate automatic machinery working. On them +rested the immense, stupid civilization of the caverns, and there was +work to do. Mich'l felt that on this morning of her father's greatest +trial Nida would pay scant attention to Lane.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_m.jpg" alt="M" width="42" height="40" /></div> +<p>ich'l was testing some of the controls when Gobet Hanlon came in. +Gobet was also a technie, and Mich'l's special friend. Like Mich'l, he +wore the light robe that was universal among the civilians in the +equable climate of the caverns. He walked with the light, springy step +that was somehow characteristic of the specialized class to which he +belonged, as distinguished from the languid gait of the pampered, lazy +populace. Attached to his girdle of flat chain links was a tiny +computing machine about as large as the palm of a man's hand. For +Gobet did most of the mathematical work.</p> + +<p>"You'll want me at the tabulating section?" Gobet stated inquiringly.</p> + +<p>"It may be well," Mich'l smiled. "For the first time in centuries, I +believe, the general public is going to vote."</p> + +<p>"Flos Entine wants to come along."</p> + +<p>Mich'l's smile changed to a grin. He knew the pretty, willful little +sweetheart of Gobet's. If she wanted to be at the tabulating plant she +would be there.</p> + +<p>"In fact," Gobet confessed somewhat sheepishly, "she is in the car."</p> + +<p>The car was waiting in the gallery. It had no visible support, but +hovered a few inches above the floor above one of two parallel +aluminum alloy strips that stretched, like the trolley tracks of the +ancients, throughout all the galleries. The ancients well knew that +aluminum is repelled by magnetism, but the race had lived in the +caverns for centuries before evolving an alloy that possessed this +repulsive power to a degree strong enough to support a considerable +weight.</p> + +<p>Under Mich'l's guidance the car moved forward silently, through +interminable busy streets with arched roofs, lined on either side with +doors that led to homes, theaters and food distributing automats. +Occasionally they passed public gardens, purely ornamental, in which a +few specimens of vegetation were preserved. They passed multitudes of +people, most of them handsome with a pampered, hot-house prettiness, +but betraying the peculiar lassitude which had been sapping the +energies of this once dynamic race for millennia. Yet to-day they +showed almost eagerness. The name of Leo Mane, prophet of deliverance, +was on every tongue. And what was the Sun like? Like the great +vita-lights that were prescribed by law and evaded by everyone, except +possibly the technies? Those technies—they seemed to delight in work! +Curious glances fell on the gliding car. Some work in connection with +the Referendum? What must one do to vote? Oh, the telucid!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p>rriving at Administration Circle, the car entered a vast excavation +half a mile in diameter, possibly a thousand feet high at the dome. +Here were the entrances to some of the principal Government warrens. +Here also centered the streets, like radiating spokes of a wheel, on +which many of the officials lived. Here the emanation bulbs were more +frequent than in the galleries, so that the light was almost glaring. +Guards of soldier-police, the stolid, well-fed, specialized class +produced by centuries of a static civilization, were everywhere. Not +in the memory of their grandparents had they done any fighting, but in +their short, brightly colored tunics, flaring trousers and little +kepis they looked very smart. Their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> only weapon was a small tube +capable of projecting a lethal light-ray.</p> + +<p>Mich'l led his party to the audience hall. It was only a few hundred +feet in diameter. At one end was the speaker's rostrum. Senator Mane +was already there. He was tall, purposeful, but withal tired and +wistful looking. His graying hair was cut at the nape of his neck, +sweeping back from his swelling temples in a manner really suggestive +of a mane. His large, luminous eyes lit up.</p> + +<p>"Is it nearly time?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Senator," Mich'l said. "The nation will soon assemble."</p> + +<p>"You have met Senator Mollon?"</p> + +<p>"I have had the pleasure," Mich'l acknowledged with polite irony, +"since Senator Mollon gives me practically all my orders."</p> + +<p>Mollon acknowledged the tribute with a quick smile, without rising +from his chair. He, too, was different from the average Subterranean +in that he was forceful and aggressive, like Senator Mane. He was +still youngish looking, of powerful, blocky build. His dark hair was +carefully parted in the middle and brushed down sleekly. The Twentieth +Century had known his prototype, the successful, powerful, utterly +unscrupulous politician; and in a different sphere, that type of +extra-Governmental ruler which the ancients called "gangster." It was +casually discussed in Subterranea that certain of the state +soldier-police were responsible for the mysterious assassinations that +had so conveniently removed most of the effective resistance to +Mollon's progress in the Senate. The once potent body had not held a +session in ten years: didn't dare to, a cynical and indifferent public +said. And a strange reluctance on the part of qualified men to accept +the Presidential nomination had left that office unfilled for the past +three years. Mollon, as party dictator, performed the duties of +President provisionally.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_f.jpg" alt="F" width="33" height="40" /></div> +<p>los, mischievous as usual, rounded her great blue eyes and gazed at +Mollon with an expression of rapt admiration.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Senator," she thrilled, "I think it's wonderful of you to give +Senator Mane an opportunity to debate with you. You are so kind!"</p> + +<p>Mollon failed to detect any mockery, luckily for Flos. He looked at +her with half-closed eyes.</p> + +<p>"The public must be satisfied," he rumbled. "Senator Mane has aroused +in them great hopes. A small matter might be adjusted, but only a +Referendum will satisfy them in this."</p> + +<p>"But Senator, the race is going to ruin. If we could get into the Sun +again—wouldn't you want that?"</p> + +<p>"I don't believe there is a 'Sun'," Mollon replied; then, with the +candor of one who is perfectly sure of himself, added:</p> + +<p>"If Mane were right, I still couldn't permit the Frozen Gate to be +opened. I can control the people for their own good, here; it might +not be possible Outside."</p> + +<p>A deep musical note sounded. Suddenly the myriad inhabitants of +Subterranea seemed to be milling around in the room. Actually their +bodies were in their dwelling cells, but their telucid images filled +the hall. By a simple adjustment of the power circuit, their images, +instead of being life size, were made only about an inch high, +permitting the accommodation of the entire nation in the hall. Their +millions of tiny voices, mingling, made a sighing sound.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_m.jpg" alt="M" width="42" height="40" /></div> +<p>ane rose and stepped forward, raising his hand.</p> + +<p>"Citizens of Subterranea," he began in powerful, resonant tones, and +then went on to put into his address all the fervor of a lifetime of +endeavor.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> He told them of those times in the dim past when the human +race still dwelt on the surface of the earth. Of the Sun that poured +out inexhaustible floods of life and light; of the green things that +were grown, not only to look at, but for food for all living things +before food was made synthetically out of mined chemicals. Of the +world overrun by a teeming, happy, dynamic civilization.</p> + +<p>"Then something happened. The Sun seemed to give less light, less +heat. Perhaps we ran into a cloud of cosmic dust that intercepted the +Sun's rays. Perhaps the cause was to be found in some change in the +Sun's internal structure. But the effects could not be doubted. Ice +began to come down from the poles. Ice barriers higher than the +highest towers covered the world, wiping out all life but the most +energetic.</p> + +<p>"Our ancestors, and many other advanced nations, began to burrow +toward the hot interior of the earth. We to-day have no idea of the +labor that went into the digging of our underground home. We are +becoming degenerate. More and more of us, even those who still use the +vita-lights, are becoming pale and flabby. There are hardly enough +technies to keep the automatic machinery in order. What will happen +when those technies also deteriorate, and lose the will to work? For +deteriorate they must, just as Senator Mollon and his still active +allies will. Just as I will, if I live long enough. There is a great +force that we never know here. It is called the cosmic ray. It never +penetrates to our depth. And our vita-lights do not produce it."</p> + +<p>He then spoke of the proposed Exodus, argued, pleaded, painted a rosy +picture of the outer world, of a Sun come back, a world of brightness +and life. At the conclusion of his speech a sigh arose from the +assembled millions—a sigh of hope, of half belief. Had the vote been +taken then the Frozen Gate would have been opened.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_b.jpg" alt="B" width="34" height="40" /></div> +<p>ut Senator Mollon was on the rostrum, holding up a square, well +manicured hand for attention. In his deep rumbling bass he tore the +arguments for the Exodus to shreds. With the whip of fear he drove +away hope.</p> + +<p>"If our savage ancestors lived on the inhospitable outer shell of the +earth," he shouted, "is that a reason for our taking that retrograde +step? Read your histories. What happened to our neighboring nation of +Atlantica only a short 15,000 years ago? They did just as this man is +urging—opened their outer gate. It promptly froze open, and liquid +air, the remnant of what in primordial days was an outer atmosphere, +poured down the tunnels. The whole nation died, and we saved ourselves +only by blasting the connecting passages between them and us with +fulminite."</p> + +<p>A wave of fear passed over the tiny massed figures. For centuries the +race had been rapidly losing all initiative, except for those few +leaders who, through superior stamina and religious devotion to the +artificial sun-rays, had maintained something of their pristine +energy.</p> + +<p>Now they were hysterical with fear of the unknown. Even as Mich'l Ares +adjusted the parabolic antenna of the thought-receptor vote-counting +machine, he knew what the verdict would be. In a moment the vote was +flashed on a screen on the ceiling: 421 in favor of the Exodus and +2,733,485 against it. There was an eery cheer from the people, and +they began to dissolve like smoke. Mollon rose, bowed politely and +smilingly, and walked out to where his magnetic car awaited him.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i.jpg" alt="I" width="16" height="40" /></div> +<p>t was with a feeling of deep depression that Mich'l Ares went to work +the next morning. His<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> despair was shared by the technies under him +with whom he talked. At the telestereo station he found a bitter young +man broadcasting a prepared commentary on the election ordered by +Senator Mollon. It was congratulatory in nature, designed to confirm +popular opinion that the nation had been saved from a great +catastrophe and to glorify the principles of Mollon's party.</p> + +<p>"... And so once more this great nation has demonstrated its ability +to govern itself, to protect itself against dangerous and unsocial +experiments. The voice of the people is the voice of God. The +Government claims for itself no credit for this momentous decision. +Each citizen has done his share toward the continuation of our safety, +our prosperity...."</p> + +<p>The young man finished the document, smiled a charming smile, and +turned off the switch. Then he grimaced his disgust and lapsed into a +glum meditation.</p> + +<p>"What say, Kratz?" Mich'l asked.</p> + +<p>"Trouble again on the west sector. Had trouble getting power enough. +Generators ought to be overhauled." He made a helpless gesture.</p> + +<p>"How about conscripting a little labor?"</p> + +<p>"Tried it this morning. Most of the people are still in a daze from +chewing too much merclite. Those that're sober are too busy preening +themselves for voting on the winning side."</p> + +<p>Kratz informed Mich'l that Mollon had that morning given up all +pretense of constitutional government, had preempted the treasury, and +was consolidating his position as avowed dictator.</p> + +<p>"He probably wanted to do that a long time," Mich'l commented. "He +didn't quite dare till that Referendum yesterday gave him the real +measure of the public. Well, I've got to be going."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_m.jpg" alt="M" width="42" height="40" /></div> +<p>ich'l took one of the small mechanical service tunnels back to his +office. This latest news had hardly affected him, so keen was his +disappointment over the defeat of the Exodus. But he wanted to be +alone. He walked through vast halls full of machinery, abandoned and +rusting, through dark corridors that had once roared with industrial +life. What would happen when the present overloaded machinery should +break down; wear out? The remnants of the great technical army could +hardly serve what was left. Each passing year these silent, useless +hulks became more numerous. The specter of famine was stalking amid +the dusty pipes and empty vats of the chemical plants; the horrors of +darkness lurked amid the tarnished compression spheres and the long, +hooded monstrosities of the power plants, inadequately served by +harassed and overworked technies.</p> + +<p>In the middle of his office Mich'l found the telucid counterpart of +Mila, sister of Nida Mane. She was younger than Nida, hardly more than +sixteen. Her eyes were wide with terror as she sought Mich'l. Her +cheeks were wet with tears, and her silken brown hair fell in careless +disarray.</p> + +<p>"Mich'l!" she cried, as soon as she saw him. "Lane Mollon has taken +Nida!"</p> + +<p>"Taken her!"</p> + +<p>"And Father is under arrest. Lane came this morning, crazy with +merclite gum. He had four or five soldiers with him. When Nida refused +to see him they broke down the door and went to her room. They dragged +her out to Lane's car, and he took her to his warren near the +Presidential quarters."</p> + +<p>"She there now?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Father followed Lane's car. Guards kept him out of Lane's +warren, so he went to see Mollon. That devil only laughed at him, +offered to call another Referendum. Father<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> had a small pocket +needle-ray and—"</p> + +<p>"Good! He killed Mollon?"</p> + +<p>"No. But he managed to burn a hole through his arm. He was rushed off +to one of the cells. And Mollon says he will call a Referendum to +decide Father's fate."</p> + +<p>"It would be just like that devil's sense of humor to let the people +decree their only friend's death."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_t1.jpg" alt="T" width="49" height="40" /></div> +<p>hey'll do it, too!" Mila exclaimed tragically. "Oh, how I wish +Mother were alive!"</p> + +<p>"And each one will feel deep within him that he has done a great, +commendable and original thing!" Mich'l added, with keen insight.</p> + +<p>Mila sank to the floor.</p> + +<p>"Go to your room," Mich'l said, gently stern. "Mollon and his gang +have reckoned without the technies." A woman's image appeared, +stooping commiseratingly over Mila—a friend of the family. Mich'l +ordered her to care for Mila. Then, he took a deep breath. Gone was +his feeling of helpless sorrow, leaving only an overwhelming, +steadying, satisfying anger. He flung the telucid switch, barked +cracking orders.</p> + +<p>In half an hour every technical man of Subterranea was in a large +storeroom near Mich'l's office. They were mostly young, keen and +alert, their skins red or brown from the actinic lights, their hair +showing more or less bleaching from the same cause. As Mich'l talked +they became intent: they listened with a cold, deadly silence that +would perhaps have made the smug millions of Subterranea quake with +fear.</p> + +<p>This affront put upon the only man in the Government who could speak +their language, who could comprehend their ideals: the peril of the +girl they all knew and loved: these things set their long-repressed +resentment flaring to white heat. They were ready for desperate +things. A turn of a valve and water would thunder through the maze of +galleries; a mishap far, far down toward the earth's hot core, and +steam would rush up—</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_b.jpg" alt="B" width="34" height="40" /></div> +<p>ut Mich'l steadied them. After all, Subterranea was their country. +Anarchy was far from the technie ideals. He had a plan.</p> + +<p>"Nothing is to be done until we have Senator Mane and Nida," Mich'l +instructed them. "Remember that! Do nothing until you hear from me. +Each of you go to your station. Set all adjustments so that they will +not need attention for some weeks, at least. Those of you who have +families, tell them to be ready to move to another residence. Say +nothing about any trouble—understand?"</p> + +<p>There were nods of assent.</p> + +<p>"You will proceed to your posts and keep busy. When I come it'll be by +telucid. I will say nothing. I will simply wave my hand. That means +you are to take your wives, your families, your sweethearts, to +Substation No. 37X."</p> + +<p>There were audible gasps.</p> + +<p>"Not 37X!" exclaimed one of the older men. "Why, that's twenty miles +up, near the Frozen Gate!"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" Mich'l smiled with tight lips. "You men willing?"</p> + +<p>There was an instantaneous shout of approval. Curiously enough, +seizure of the Gate by force had not occurred to any of this +law-abiding, well-disciplined group. But Mollon's lawless seizure of +the Government had removed all inhibitions of that sort. Seizure of +the Gate would bring at one stroke the realization of the dream that +the technies had tried for generations to win by political means. +Surely, when the Gate was open, and they could see the glorious, +half-mythical Sun for themselves, the people would consent to the +Exodus!</p> + +<p>For the technies, even in the bitterness of defeat, were not +anti-social. They hoped and worked for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> the devitalized races of +Subterranea, for the betterment of their condition, more than for +their own. The technies were the fittest; they had demonstrated their +ability to survive unchanged under adverse condition. They would be +least helped by the Exodus. Yet they had worked for it all their +lives, as had their fathers before them, out of unselfish love for +humanity. There have always been such men. Through the murk of history +we see their lives as small, steady lights, infrequent and lonely. +With the opening of the Frozen Gate suddenly a possibility, the +technies forgot their exasperation with the stupid mob.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_t1.jpg" alt="T" width="49" height="40" /></div> +<p>he Gate is guarded," said an elderly man dubiously.</p> + +<p>"A small guard," Gobet Hanlon remarked quickly, "and probably dazed +with merclite. Nothing to fear."</p> + +<p>"Stay away from the Gate," Mich'l instructed. "Give no cause for +alarm. If an emergency arises while I'm gone, see Gobet."</p> + +<p>"Don't go alone, Mich'l," Gobet begged. "A few of us with ray-needles +can storm the detention cells. We can clean out Lane's warren."</p> + +<p>"We might, but the Senator and Nida would be gone. The alarm would be +given. In a few minutes there'd be a mob."</p> + +<p>The technies were already dispersing eagerly. Mich'l pressed his +friend's hand, saying:</p> + +<p>"I'll take my needle-ray, and I know every way to get around there is. +Alone, I'll attract no attention. Till later, Gobet!" And he was gone.</p> + +<p>Mich'l's way was through the smaller, less frequented communication +passages used principally by the technies. Occasionally he did meet +citizens, still light-headed after their election victory celebration, +and lost, but he paid them no heed. He came to the ventilation center +of that level.</p> + +<p>For ages no air had entered Subterranea from the outside. All of the +air had to be regularly reconditioned, and so was returned, through a +systematic network of air ducts, to a vast, central chemical plant. It +was a latter-day Cave of the Winds, where the north, south, east and +west winds of that buried empire regularly returned for a brief few +minutes of play amid chemical sprays, condensers, humidifiers, +oxydisers, to be again dispatched to their drudgery. This hall was +truly colossal, filled to the shadowy ceilings, a thousand feet high, +with gigantic pipes, tanks, wind-turbines.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he technie in charge had not yet returned, but Mich'l consulted the +distribution plan, and soon located the duct that led to Lane Mollon's +warren. In a few minutes he was running, helped along by a strong +current of fresh air. The map had shown the warren to be about a mile +away. For the benefit of the technies who had to work there, the duct +was plainly marked; and the lighting, by infrequent emanation bulbs, +was adequate, though dim.</p> + +<p>Mich'l had made no plans for a course of action after arriving at his +destination. He felt reasonably sure that if he could get into the +warren he would have a good chance to escape with Nida. In the +confusion he could hide her nearby, and perhaps effect the release of +the senator also. He had no doubt about his fate if he were caught. +Lane's pose of good sportsmanship having failed to impress Nida, he +had adopted simple, brutal coercion. Mich'l's fate, if caught +interfering, would be summary execution.</p> + +<p>Mich'l found the grating which he sought. It bore the key number of +Lane's establishment. The key which would unlock it was of course in +the hands of the police; but the bars were badly corroded, and Mich'l +managed to bend them enough to permit the passage of his body.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p> + +<p>He found himself in a small chamber, from which ducts led to all parts +of the warren. These ducts were too small to permit passage of his +body, however; it would be necessary to come into the open. A small +metal door promised egress. Mich'l climbed out, and faced a surprised +cook in the kitchen, engaged in flavoring synthetic food drinks. +Mich'l said explanatorily:</p> + +<p>"Inspection, air service."</p> + +<p>The cook did not know the regulations about keeping the air tunnels +locked. Moreover, he, like all other servants of the mighty, worked +unwillingly, being conscripted. He only grunted.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_m.jpg" alt="M" width="42" height="40" /></div> +<p>ich'l made a pretense of testing the air currents. Presently he +stepped into one of the communicating corridors. The warren was +planned something like a house of the Surface Age, with luxuriously +furnished rooms, baths, dining halls, and all the appurtenances of +wealth. Arriving at a rotunda, in the center of which was a glowing +fountain, Mich'l encountered a guard. Boldly he asked him:</p> + +<p>"Where is Mr. Mollon? I wish to see him."</p> + +<p>The guard looked surprised.</p> + +<p>"About Nida Mane, sir? I would hardly dare."</p> + +<p>Mich'l looked at the man sharply, but there was no hint of recognition +in the stupid, phlegmatic face.</p> + +<p>"What about Nida Mane? It is about her I wish to speak."</p> + +<p>There was a slight stirring of interest in the soldier's face.</p> + +<p>"He will be glad to see you, sir, if you bring news of her."</p> + +<p>"Eh, yes? Perhaps what I have to tell will be of no interest to him."</p> + +<p>"If you can tell him where she is he will ask no more of you."</p> + +<p>"She made good her escape then?"</p> + +<p>Slow suspicion was dawning at last.</p> + +<p>"For one who brings news you ask a lot of questions," the guard +remarked heavily, as his hand slipped to the needle-ray weapon at his +side. "Show your pass!"</p> + +<p>Like a flash Mich'l was upon him, his hand at the thick throat, the +other grasping the wrist. Although the soldier, like the majority of +the populace, lacked the intense vitality of the technies, he had +stubborn strength, and he fought effectively in the drilled, automatic +way of his kind. Mich'l was further handicapped by the necessity of +maintaining silence. One shout, and a dozen needle-rays would no doubt +perforate his body with holes and slash his flesh with smoldering +cuts.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_g.jpg" alt="G" width="33" height="40" /></div> +<p>runting and sweating, they fought all around the rose-colored curb of +the fountain. At last Mich'l succeeded in forcing his adversary over +the low stone, and they went over together with a resounding splash. +The straining body of the guard suddenly relaxed, and a spreading red +cloud in the water disclosed that he had struck his head against the +first of the terraces that rose in the fountain's mist-shrouded +center.</p> + +<p>Up one of the corridors a door opened, and an angry voice shouted:</p> + +<p>"Gurka! Gurka! I'll have you in bracelets! Captain of the guard!"</p> + +<p>"Sir!" From another of the corridors came a sound of running feet. A +command rang out:</p> + +<p>"On the double!"</p> + +<p>An officer, followed by four soldiers, dashed around the corner and +flashed by the fountain. Peering over the curb, Mich'l saw them, some +hundred yards away, come to a halt before an opened door. With a +thrill of exultation Mich'l recognized the tall figure of Lane Mollon, +looking like a slightly damaged satyr of the better class, for his +head was bandaged, and he was in bad humor.</p> + +<p>"Captain!" he stormed. "I want you to put that damned louse in +solitary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> confinement for a year. Hear?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir." Like a megaphone the long corridor carried the low, +respectful words to Mich'l's ears.</p> + +<p>Lane continued to storm:</p> + +<p>"And if you put another damned merclite-crazy blunker<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> on guard in +this place I'll have your commission. Hear?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Blunker—a blunderer, an oaf. Mechanical recording had +preserved the language in much of its original form, but new words did +creep in.</p></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p> quick decision was necessary, and Mich'l acted without hesitation. +The guard had rolled over on his back, so that his face was out of the +water, and he was breathing with quick, painful gasps. Mich'l dragged +him up under the concealing shelter of the fountain spray, and there +changed clothes with him. In the meantime the flowing water washed +away the red stain of blood. When the captain returned with his guard, +Mich'l was lying realistically in the pool, apparently deep in drugged +sleep, the little kepi tilted rakishly over his face.</p> + +<p>He was roughly seized and dragged out of the water to the +accompaniment of much cursing. A fist crashed into his face.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the soldiers felt the supine figure under their hands explode +into energy. Elbows and fists seemed to fly from all directions at +once. A needle-ray appeared, and before they could draw their own +weapons they were howling with pain as searing welts drew over their +bodies. With one accord they plunged into the pool. Only the officer +remained, and he fell to the mosaic floor, his weapon half raised, the +small black hole in his chest giving off a burnt odor.</p> + +<p>Mich'l appropriated the officer's brassard of rank, and, menacing the +cowed guards, forced them to herd into a nearby room, carrying the +body of the officer with them. Mich'l locked the door and looked +around. He saw no one observing him, and could count on carrying a +pretty good bluff in his uniform, which was rapidly shedding its +water. With a firm step Mich'l walked to Lane Mollon's door, threw it +open, and entered.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_l.jpg" alt="L" width="33" height="40" /></div> +<p>ane sat up on his couch, his feet striking the floor with an angry +thump. But when he recognized Mich'l he paled slightly.</p> + +<p>"Where is she?" Mich'l demanded roughly, "before I burn you down!"</p> + +<p>"You said once," Lane began sneeringly, "that you wanted to fight me. +Now, if you'll just put down that—"</p> + +<p>"Not now," Mich'l dissented with deadly coldness. "Where is Nida? +Speak fast."</p> + +<p>Lane did so.</p> + +<p>"She isn't here. The little short<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> crowned me with a chair, and +slipped out. How did I—"</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Short—trouble-maker, spitfire. A colloquialism probably +growing out of the once frequently used electrical term +"short-circuit."</p></div> + +<p>"When? Hurry up!"</p> + +<p>"Hardly an hour ago. She walked down the corridor, showed a +thick-witted guard my own executive pass, and got away. But I got that +guard—"</p> + +<p>"Never mind what you did to the guard—"</p> + +<p>Suddenly the image of an officer strange to Mich'l stood in the room +and saluted smartly.</p> + +<p>"Has Captain Ilgen Mr. Lane Mollon's leave to stay?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Mollon started forward, but before he could disclose his predicament +Mich'l had sidled over to him and thrown one arm affectionately over +his shoulder. In his hand, concealed by the rich folds of Lane's robe, +Mich'l held his needle-ray, and it was pressed firmly against Lane's +ribs.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mollon will be glad to hear you," Mich'l said smoothly.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>e fancied that the eyes of the officer's image dilated slightly, but +it lost none of its military rigor. But some explanation of his +presence there in his still damp uniform must be given Ilgen, so he +growled, in a voice that he tried to make a bit thick, as if he had +chewed too much merclite:</p> + +<p>"At ease, Captain. At ease! Damn it man, you don't have to be so +damned military. You're among friends!" And he towseled Lane's dark +hair affectionately.</p> + +<p>Captain Ilgen looked his disgust.</p> + +<p>"Sir," he said to Lane, "we recaptured Nida Mane as she tried to board +a public car near the Executive Mansion."</p> + +<p>The black lens at the end of Mich'l's needle-ray pressed hard, and +Lane said naturally:</p> + +<p>"You have her in custody?"</p> + +<p>"Sir, we have." And to Mich'l's dismay, Nida, defiant, her lovely form +half revealed by rents in her garments, seemed to materialize beside +the officer. Her wrathful eyes were fixed on Lane, and then she saw +Mich'l.</p> + +<p>The technie put all his will into the pleading stare which he +returned, and she understood. She gave no sign of recognition, but +favored both Lane and Mich'l equally with the chill of her disdain.</p> + +<p>"Sir, what are your orders?"</p> + +<p>Lane glanced aside at Mich'l, acutely conscious of the lethal pressure +in his ribs.</p> + +<p>"'Sall right with me, old fellow," Mich'l squawked good-humoredly. +"This your girl that got away from you? Let's both go over and bring +her back."</p> + +<p>Lane nodded assent. The soldier saluted, and his vision and that of +the girl disappeared.</p> + +<p>"And we're going to do just that!" Mich'l added in an entirely changed +voice. "Get up, you. Act right, speak right, do right, and you may +live to see another day."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_s.jpg" alt="S" width="26" height="40" /></div> +<p>o the two left the warren in apparent amity, and walked the beautiful +street, with its richly formed, brightly colored arches, its seemingly +illimitable vistas, its luxuriant, pampered decorative vegetation, its +blazing lights—until at last they came to Administration Circle, and +entered the ponderous gates behind which lay the very heart of the +Government.</p> + +<p>They were challenged at once. Although the officer of the guard knew +Lane, usage required the showing of the daily pass. Many high officers +of the Government had in years past fallen from grace overnight.</p> + +<p>This formality complied with, Lane and Mich'l, the latter with his +ray-needle ever ready, sat down to wait in the guard room. And Lane, +under Mich'l's quiet prompting, ordered that Nida and her father be +brought to him.</p> + +<p>"We shall bring the girl, yes," the astonished officer protested, "but +not Senator Mane. He is a prisoner of state."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you don't know, Captain," Mich'l suggested smoothly, "that it +is not wise to disregard the orders of the Provisional President's +son?"</p> + +<p>"It would cost me my commission, perhaps my life!" the officer said.</p> + +<p>"Neither would be worth much if you disobey!" Mich'l countered, a wire +edge creeping into his voice.</p> + +<p>The officer looked into Lane's stormy face, then with great reluctance +retreated to carry out the order.</p> + +<p>In about ten minutes he was back, with four guards and his prisoners. +He explained that Captain Ilgen was detained on official duty.</p> + +<p>"You may go," said Lane, prompted by a jab in the ribs.</p> + +<p>"A written receipt, please, sir, for the senator."</p> + +<p>Glowering, Lane wrote out the desired document. At last they were +alone.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Our program," Mich'l announced briskly, "is simple. You will conduct +us to one of the Government cars, and will ride with us to such places +as we may direct, and I shall release you when it pleases me. If you +then want to fight, I will accommodate you."</p> + +<p>"I would be willing to fight you, as head of the technies," Lane +countered sullenly, "but I wouldn't be bothered with a rebel and a +traitor. You've overstepped yourself this time, my fine bolthead, and +all I ask is a front seat at your execution!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>hey stepped into the brightly lighted hall, and in that instant +Mich'l felt a searing heat on his shoulder. Without a moment's pause +he hurled Senator Mane and the girl back into the room. At the same +moment he flung an arm around Lane's neck and pulled him back into the +doorway, where he could use him as a shield while he cautiously peered +out into the corridor. His shoulder throbbed painfully, but his +movement had prevented the needle-ray from penetrating deeply in any +one place.</p> + +<p>A short distance up the corridor was a wider space, in the center of +which stood a large bronze urn filled with exotic plants. Behind this +urn were several soldiers, and Mich'l recognized the sharp-eyed +Captain Ilgen. So that officer had recognized the true state of +affairs, or had strong suspicions! But in his haste and eagerness he +had overlooked one important fact. In the guardroom, were riot-rays, +heavy replicas of the ordinary hand weapons. They had not been needed +for many years, but the technies had always kept them fully charged +and in order.</p> + +<p>"Nida!" Mich'l called, not removing his eye from the doorway.</p> + +<p>"Yes?" She was standing beside him, and Mich'l thrilled to the +admiration and positive affection in her intonation.</p> + +<p>"Notice those short tubes mounted on light wheels over against the +walls? Those are riot-ray projectors. Wheel me over a couple."</p> + +<p>Nida did as directed. Mich'l stuck the stubby muzzle of one of the +nearest weapons into the corridor, pulled the lever and swung the ray +in an arc toward the ambushed soldiers. There was a sharp crackling +noise and the heat chipped myriads of flakes off the stone walls, +leaving a gray path across the rich murals, and the air was filled +with flying particles. The heat was terrific. It beat back into the +doorway.</p> + +<p>Captain Ilgen gave a short, sharp order, and he and his men retreated +before the bronze urn began to wilt and drip melted metal. He could +not be accused of cowardice, for his hand weapons were puny compared +to the riot-rays.</p> + +<p>"Quick, before he gets in touch with the outer guard!" Mich'l urged +his prisoner forward, Senator Mane following. The grave patriarch of +rhetoric made a striking picture as he dragged the second riot-ray +along. The other one was abandoned, locked with full power on. It was +converting that corridor into an inferno, and there would be no +pursuit through that avenue.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_m.jpg" alt="M" width="42" height="40" /></div> +<p>ich'l pushed open the metal door suddenly. Two guards on duty were +just coming in, their hand weapons ready. They never knew what struck +them for there was no time for compunction. But even as their bodies +sank to the paving there was the harsh clangor of alarm bells. +Soldiers dashed from everywhere and came running, their needle-rays +menacing.</p> + +<p>"In there!" Mich'l shouted. He pointed to the doors, at the dead +guards. As they hesitated, he added:</p> + +<p>"Revolution! They're storming the President's office! Hear the rays?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p> + +<p>Through the doors came a faint humming, an acrid smell of heat, of +stone and metal fumes. A corporal saluted Mich'l, recognized Lane's +haggard features, and Lane again felt that cogent persuader in his +ribs.</p> + +<p>"That's right, Corporal!" he said bitterly.</p> + +<p>"Is the guard room occupied, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Not now, you fool!" Mich'l snapped at him. This resolved the last of +the corporal's misgivings. Giving an order, he led his men in, +gasping.</p> + +<p>"Now we'll run!" Mich'l ordered, giving Lane a shove. "Coming, Nida?" +She was dragging her father along joyously. They crossed the broad +pedestrian walk, and in the street found an official car nestling on +one of the tracks.</p> + +<p>"Heave in the riot-ray, will you, old fellow?" Mich'l requested +jovially, and Lane did. Then the listless chauffeur turned a +controller, and the big car rose a few inches, lightly as a feather, +and sped away swiftly through the maze of traffic.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_s.jpg" alt="S" width="26" height="40" /></div> +<p>ometime later they were in a service lift; not one of the great +public lifts that carried their hundreds at a trip, but one of the +small lifts used mostly by the technies, and known to few outside +their ranks. Mich'l, standing blissfully close to Nida and her father, +enjoyed his moment of relaxation. Many things had been attended to. +Lane had been released at last, in one of the catacomb cemeteries. It +would take him at least two hours to find his way out. They were +discussing the riot-ray, which they had with them.</p> + +<p>"I hope we won't have to exhaust it in a fight before we get out," +Senator Mane said anxiously. "It would be a splendid weapon if we +encounter a hostile environment Outside."</p> + +<p>"The Gate is guarded," Mich'l said practically, "but we expect to +surprise them. No use worrying."</p> + +<p>The lift came to a stop at an air-lock. The great elevator shafts +were closed by airlocks every 2,000 feet. The reason is obvious. If +the air of the great, spheroid subterranean nation were allowed to +freely obey the laws of gravity, it would be oppressively dense in the +lower levels, and excessively rarified in the upper ones. While the +airlocks were operating Mich'l stepped to a telucid and gave the +agreed-on signal.</p> + +<p>In another half hour they were at 37X. The great, dusty, and +little-used storeroom was only poorly lighted; it was dank, and had an +uncomfortable chill. Technies and their families were coming in from +all sides, and it was not long before some five hundred persons, men, +women and children, were assembled. Many of them were pale and +frightened looking, for they were staking everything on an ideal, a +theory. There would be no coming back. The statute books of +Subterranea decreed only one penalty—death—for even the merest +tampering with the Frozen Gate. It was not like this that they had +visioned the opening of the Gate. Under properly controlled +conditions, it would have been possible to open the gate for +preliminary explorations. But not now. They were outside the law.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_n.jpg" alt="N" width="39" height="40" /></div> +<p>ida, standing beside Mich'l, shivered and pulled her over-robe closer +around her. There was sadness in her voice as she said:</p> + +<p>"These children.... They remind me of the thousands of children we +must abandon with our people. If I could, I'd steal a few to take with +us."</p> + +<p>Mich'l grinned without mirth.</p> + +<p>"And be damned as a kidnapper of a particularly horrible sort, as long +as Subterranea lasts!"</p> + +<p>"I know. I know. But what will happen to them all when the automatic +machinery fails?"</p> + +<p>"They may learn to run it, if they have to. Or if we succeed in +establishing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> ourselves in the outer world we can tunnel back to them +around the Gate in a year or so. Don't worry about them too much. +We're taking the big risk, not they."</p> + +<p>Gobet Hanlon, accompanied by Flos Entine and Mila Mane, approached. He +was loaded down with a huge case of concentrated food.</p> + +<p>"I've given orders to bring with us all the cold resisting fabrics we +could carry. Got 'em loaded down, eh?"</p> + +<p>"All here?"</p> + +<p>"Every last one."</p> + +<p>"Let's go, then." Mich'l stepped to a small door that led into the +main corridor close to the Gate. This door had not been used by the +technies when assembling. Through a tiny hole the guard, four +soldiers, could be seen about a blanket, tossing sixteen-sided dice. +Mich'l opened the door, his needle-ray pointed.</p> + +<p>"Don't move, or you burn!" he commanded harshly.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he guards, taken completely by surprise, did not move. In a few +moments they were bound, gagged, and dumped into a corner of 37X. +Eager technies were swarming over the complicated mechanism that they +had dared to touch, before, only for inspection and maintenance. The +Frozen Gate was like a huge stopper in a bottle, made of chromium +steel. It was thirty feet in diameter, and thirty feet thick from its +well insulated inside face to that enigmatical Outside that had been a +grisly mystery to the race for some five hundred centuries.</p> + +<p>There was a flash of sparks, and the quiet hum of motors. With a +shuddering groan the great plug freed itself from the grip of +millennia; turned a few inches in its hole. The supporting gimbals +took the load now, and slowly the great mass moved inward, carried by +an overhead traveling crane whose track was bolted to the rock roof. +The rate of movement was slow, not much over three or four inches a +minute.</p> + +<p>An excited murmur filled the cavern—almost hysterical joy. But +Mich'l, watching that widening margin for the dreaded gush of liquid +air, only trembled with relief. At least the calamity that had visited +rash Atlantica would not be repeated here.</p> + +<p>A young technie, one of the heat distributors, climbed up the heavy +bosses on the gateway's face.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to be the first to see the Sun!" he shouted joyously. His +challenging gaze roved over the waiting crowd, and suddenly his face +turned ashen. For at the turn of the corridor, some hundred yards +away, he had seen men. No mistaking those uniforms; they were +soldiers. And Mich'l, following his gaze, saw a riot-ray being wheeled +into place. His own riot-ray already commanded the corridor, but he +dared not use it. The soldiers, under the partial protection of the +turn, could incinerate the helpless technies with little danger to +themselves.</p> + +<p>"Wait!" Mich'l shouted, running into the open.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p>n officer came to meet him. He then recognized Captain Ilgen, whose +exceptional shrewdness had almost undone him before. Ilgen could not +see the slow movement of the gate, and Mich'l, himself weaponless, +counted only on parleying for time.</p> + +<p>They met midway between the two forces, and the small black lens of +the captain's weapon pointed steadily at Mich'l's chest.</p> + +<p>"Mich'l Ares, I arrest you." It seemed that the captain's fine gray +eyes looked out of the lean face with real sympathy. "It may be there +will be executive clemency for these people of yours, but for you—"</p> + +<p>Mich'l, tense and deadly, saw the captain's vigilant attention leave +his face for a second; saw his eyes widen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> in consternation. He could +not know that Ilgen had seen a slender crescent of green light appear +in the Frozen Gate, but he did not lose the opportunity. His fist +crashed on the captain's jaw, so that the soldierly figure reeled and +the needle-ray fell to the ground. Mich'l leaped after him, picked him +up, held him. The riot-ray was turned full on him, and a soldier's +hand trembled on the lever. But it did not pull.</p> + +<p>"You'll kill him!" Mich'l shouted. And then he ventured to turn his +head to look at the Gate. He saw the first of the fugitives struggle +into the narrow crack. The gate seemed to have stuck, and there was +barely room to pass. Ilgen, half conscious, was trying to rain blows +on Mich'l's back, compelling him to stop and pass the officer's hands +through the belt of his tunic and to manacle them with a pair of +bracelets which he found in his pocket. As he staggered toward the +Gate with his burden, he saw Gobet beside him, the stolen riot-ray +menacing the soldiers, who would otherwise have rushed in.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_s.jpg" alt="S" width="26" height="40" /></div> +<p>uddenly Ilgen struggled upright.</p> + +<p>"Fire," he commanded in stentorian tones.</p> + +<p>"They'll kill you too, you fool!" Mich'l exclaimed angrily.</p> + +<p>"I am a soldier!" Ilgen answered with contempt. His legs barely +supported his weight, and he was struggling to free his manacled +hands. He threw himself into the narrow crevice of the Gate, to +obstruct the stream of fugitives. He started to shout again:</p> + +<p>"Fi—" Crack! Again Mich'l's fist caught him. He hooked the officer's +elbows over two of the bosses, so that he was supported in plain sight +of his men, and turned to urge haste. The last two stragglers were +hurrying through, and with relief Mich'l turned to follow. But he set +the closing mechanism in motion before he leaped for the narrow +opening that was becoming still narrower, though very slowly. Now for +that green crescent of light, and hope!</p> + +<p>He felt a wave of heat. Glancing back, he saw the irresolute guards +scattered by the enraged charge of a square, blocky man in civilian +robe—the usually smiling Provisional President, Senator Mollon. +Mollon himself was fumbling with the lever of the riot-ray. Ilgen had +evidently reported where he was going before starting in pursuit of +the technies.</p> + +<p>Again that withering flash of heat, and Mich'l saw Captain Ilgen, +still semi-conscious, suddenly turn red-faced. Mollon would burn him +up without compunction, in the hope of catching one of the fugitive +technies. And now a figure in uniform leaped forward at Mollon's angry +gesture, and bent purposefully to the sighting tube.</p> + +<p>The crescent was now so slender that Mich'l had to turn sideways to +squeeze back into the corridor. And slowly, inexorably, it was growing +smaller still. With desperate haste the practiced, uniformed man was +adjusting his range.</p> + +<p>Captain Ilgen struggled when Mich'l seized him.</p> + +<p>"I arrest—"</p> + +<p>Mich'l thought for a sickening moment that he was caught in the +closing gate. Then he was free in the cylindrical tunnel into which +the plug was creeping. Luckily, Ilgen was slight. His body squeezed +through with little more difficulty than Mich'l's own. Now the opening +was too small for any man's body. A red glow illuminated that +narrowing slit; an acrid wave of heat, and the smell of burnt metal +came with the strong current of air that blew out of Subterranea.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_m.jpg" alt="M" width="42" height="40" /></div> +<p>ich'l dragged his captive down the rocky tunnel, the floor of which +dipped gently away<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> from the Gate; for drainage, no doubt. Around a +bend, the source of the greenish light was apparent. The fugitives +were in an ice cavern. The light seemed to emanate from roof and +walls. The air was uncompromisingly chill, for the blast of warm air +from Subterranea had stopped.</p> + +<p>But the cold of the air was nothing to the icy chill that settled on +the heart of Mich'l Ares, and the hearts of Senator Mane, and the +other leaders of this desperate enterprise. So this, this was the +Outside! A cavern of ice—small, hemmed-in! Those ancient folk-legends +of a Sun—</p> + +<p>"I arrest you, Mich'l Ares!"</p> + +<p>Mich'l laughed shortly. What a single-minded fellow this Captain Ilgen +was! Still groggy, of course. Didn't know where they were. He left the +soldier with the red, blistered face.</p> + +<p>"Mich'l! Mich'l!" a voice echoed shrilly from the ice walls. It was a +high-pitched voice, and an excited one. A boy came flying out of a +narrow crevice, his short robe flying, his cloth-wrapped legs +twinkling.</p> + +<p>"Mich'l!" he shouted. "I saw it! I saw the Sun, the beautiful Sun!"</p> + +<p>Lucky it was that in the rush no one was hurt. The small cleft opened +into a wide tunnel, a low-roofed cave through which milky-white water +flowed. The cave opened upon a vista of blue sky and towering +mountains whose tops were burdened with snow and upon whose sides +glaciers slid down and melted; and the milky-white stream brawled down +into a green valley, far, far below. On a mountain meadow, not far +from the glacier that still buried the Frozen Gate, they rested....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p>nd so came a new strain of humanity upon the surface of the earth—a +strain tempered and refined by the inexorable process of evolution and +environment. Already animal life had reappeared, drastically changed +and ruthlessly weeded out by the most severe Ice Age the world had +ever known, and now Man stood once more on a new threshold of time.</p> + +<p>Something of this may have passed through the minds of the refugees +luxuriating in the strong sunlight of this mountain meadow, and in +active and alert brains the foundations of a new civilization were +already being built.</p> + +<p>They were preparing to go into the valley below when there was a dull +concussion. The glacier over the Frozen Gate rose slightly, then +disappeared completely out of sight, leaving a yawning hole in the +mountainside. Ice and rocks slid down, filling the hole. The refugees +gazed at the scene in fear and wonder.</p> + +<p>"They have blown up the gate! And the chambers leading to it!" Senator +Mane—now only Leo Mane—said slowly. "There goes our last chance to +save them!" His tones were deeply sad. He could not look upon these +people as an experiment that Nature had abandoned, although he knew +that history is thronged with the shadows of vanished races, culled by +the process of natural selection.</p> + +<p>But Youth looks only ahead. The majority of the rescued technies were +young, and with eagerness and anticipation, they followed Mich'l and +Nida Ares down into the valley to build their first homes.</p> +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/image_008.jpg" width="300" height="74" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="The_Midget_From_the_Island" id="The_Midget_From_the_Island"></a>The Midget From the Island</h2> + +<h3>A COMPLETE NOVELETTE</h3> + +<h3><i>By H. G. Winter</i></h3> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> +<img src="images/image_009.jpg" width="700" height="468" alt=""For God's sake, Hagendorff, what's come over you?"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"For God's sake, Hagendorff, what's come over you?"</span> +</div> +<p> </p> + +<div class="sidenote">Garth Howard, prey to half the animals of the forest, +fights valiantly to regain his lost five feet of size.</div> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i2.jpg" alt="I" width="20" height="40" /></div> +<p>n the chill of an early morning, a rowboat drifted aimlessly down the +Detroit River. It seemed to have broken loose from its mooring and +been swept away; its outboard motor was silent and it swung in slow +circles as the currents caught at it. But the boat carried a +passenger. A man's nude body stretched face downward in it.</p> + +<p>It was a startling figure that lay there. The body was fully matured +and had a splendid development of rounded muscles—and yet it was not +more than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> three feet in length. A perfectly formed and proportioned +manikin! The two officers in the harbor police launch which presently +slid alongside to investigate were giants in comparison.</p> + +<p>They had not expected to find such weird cargo in a drifting rowboat. +They stared at the naked, unconscious midget in utter amazement, as if +seeing a thing that could not be real. And when one of them reached +down to lift the tiny body aboard, his eyes went wider with added +surprise. His lift was inadequate. The dwarf's weight was that of a +normal-sized man!</p> + +<p>This was mystery on mystery. But they got the uncannily heavy figure +aboard at last and ascertained<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> that, though the skin showed many +wounds and was blue from long exposure, the heart was still beating. +And realizing that the life might flicker out beneath their eyes +unless they took action immediately, they proceeded to work over him.</p> + +<p>After some minutes, the dwarf gave signs of returning consciousness. +His lids fluttered and opened, disclosing eyes that filled suddenly +with terror as they stared into the faces, huge in comparison, that +leaned over his. One of the officers said reassuringly:</p> + +<p>"You're all right, buddy: you're on a harbor police launch. But who in +the devil are you? D'you speak English? Where'd you come from?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he midget struggled to speak; struggled desperately to tell something +of great importance. They bent closer. Gasping, high-pitched words +came to their ears, and the story that those words told held them +spellbound. When the shrill voice ceased and the dwarf sank back into +the coat they had thrown around him, the two policemen gazed at each +other. One whistled softly, and his companion said soberly:</p> + +<p>"We'd better phone up and have the local police tend to this right +away, Bill."</p> + +<p>Thus, two hours later, several miles up the river, another launch +containing three officers came to its destination, a solitary, +thickly-wooded island that brooded under a cloak of silence where the +river leaves broad Lake St. Clair. The launch crept up to a mooring +post a few feet from a small, rough beach, and was tied there. +Quickly, the men waded ashore and tiptoed up a winding trail that was +barred from the sun by dank foliage. They soon came to a clearing +where a large cabin had been built. There, one of them whispered, +"Guns out!"</p> + +<p>Then the three men crossed the clearing and cautiously entered the +cabin.</p> + +<p>For a moment there was silence. Then came a terrified shout, followed +by the bunched thunder of a succession of pistol shots. The +reverberations slowly died away, and some time later the policemen +reappeared and stood outside the door.</p> + +<p>One of them, dazed, kept repeating over and over, "I wouldn't have +believed it! I wouldn't have believed it!" and another nodded in +wordless agreement. The third, white-faced, stared for a long time +unseeingly at the cloud-flecked bowl of the sky....</p> + +<p>But it would be best, perhaps, to tell the story as it happened.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he incredible events that shaped it began two nights before, when the +larger of the two rooms in the island cabin was bathed in the bald +glare of a strong floodlight that threw into sharp prominence the +intent features of two men in the room, and the complicated details of +the strange equipment around them.</p> + +<p>Garth Howard, the younger of the two, was holding a tiny, squawling, +spitting thing, not more than three inches long, which might have +seemed, at a quick glance, to have been a normal enough kitten. Closer +inspection, however, would have revealed that it had a thick, smooth +coat, a lithe, fully developed body and narrowed, venomous +eyes—things which no week-old kitten ever possessed. It was a mature +cat, but in the size of a kitten.</p> + +<p>Howard's level gray eyes were held fascinated by it. When he spoke, +his words were hushed and almost reverent.</p> + +<p>"Perfect, Hagendorff!" he said. "Not a flaw!"</p> + +<p>"The reduction has not improved her temper," Hagendorff articulated +precisely. His deep voice matched the rest of him. Garth Howard's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +clean-muscled body stood a good six feet off the floor, yet the other +topped him by inches. And his face compared well with his bulky body, +for his head was massive, with overhanging brows and a shaggy mop of +blond hair. Athlete and weight-lifter, the two looked, but in reality +they were scientist and assistant, working together for a common end.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he room in which they stood was obviously a laboratory. Bulky gas +engines and a generator squatted at one end; tables held racks of +tools and loops of insulated wiring and jars of various chemicals. One +long table stretched the whole length of the room, placed flush +against the left wall, whose rough planking was broken by a lone +window. There were racks of test tubes on this table, and tools, +carelessly scattered by men intent on their work.</p> + +<p>Still another table was devoted to several cages, containing the usual +martyrs of experimental science: guinea pigs and rabbits, rats and +white mice. Beside these was a large box, screen topped, in which, in +separate partitions, were a variety of insects: beetles and flies and +spiders and tarantulas.</p> + +<p>But the thing that dominated the laboratory was the machine on the +long table against the wall. Its chamber, the most striking feature, +was a cube of roughly six feet, built of dull material resembling +bakelite. Wires trailed through it from the glittering plate, which +was the chamber's floor, and a curved spray-shaped projector overhead, +to an intricately constructed apparatus studded with vacuum tubes. A +small switchboard stood beside the chamber, and from it thick cables +led to the generator in the rear of the room.</p> + +<p>"Let us return her to normal," Hagendorff rumbled after a moment or +two devoted to prodding and examining the diminutive cat. "Then for +the final experiment."</p> + +<p>One whole wall of the cubical chamber was a hinged door, with a tier +of several peep-holes. Garth Howard swung the door open, placed the +tiny, struggling cat inside and quickly closed it again. "Right," he +said briefly, and pressed his eyes to the bottom peep-hole.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p> switch was pulled over, and the dynamo's drone pulsed through the +room. Hagendorff's fingers rested on a large lever that jutted from +the switchboard. Slowly, he pulled it to one side.</p> + +<p>The imprisoned cat, small as a rat, had been nervously whipping its +tail from side to side and meowing plaintively; but, as the lever +swung over, there came a change. The vacuum tubes behind the +switchboard glowed green; a bright white ray poured from the spray in +the chamber, making the metal plate below a shimmering, almost molten +thing. The animal's legs suddenly braced on it; its narrowed eyes +widened, glazing weirdly, while the tail became a stiff, bristling +ramrod. And, as a balloon swells from a strong breath, the cat's body +increased in size. It grew not in spurts, but with a smooth, flowing +rhythm: grew as easily as a flower unfolding beneath the sun.</p> + +<p>In only a few seconds its original size was attained. Howard raised +his hand; the lever shot back and the white beam faded into +nothingness. A full sized and very angry cat tore around the inside of +the chamber.</p> + +<p>"Normal?" Hagendorff questioned. The other nodded and prepared to open +the door.</p> + +<p>"Wait! She always was a little undersized; I give her a few inches +more as a reward."</p> + +<p>"Not too much," warned Garth. "She's got a nasty temper; we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> don't +want a wildcat prowling round here!"</p> + +<p>The white beam flashed, the tubes glowed and almost instantly +flickered off again. When the chamber's door was opened, an indignant +and slightly oversized cat bounded through, leaped from the table with +a squawled oath of hatred and streaked into the front room of the +cabin.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_g.jpg" alt="G" width="33" height="40" /></div> +<p>arth turned and faced Hagendorff, a smile on his lips and a gleam in +his eyes. He ran his fingers through his black hair.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "now it's time for the final experiment. Who shall it +be?"</p> + +<p>Hagendorff did not answer at once, and the American went on:</p> + +<p>"I think it'd better be me. There's a slight risk, of course, and I, +as the inventor, could never ask an assistant to do anything I +wouldn't. Is it all right with you?"</p> + +<p>Hagendorff nodded quickly in answer. Garth stood reflecting for a +moment.</p> + +<p>"Guinea pigs, rabbits and insects have survived reduction to +one-twentieth normal size," he said slowly. "It should be safe for the +human body to descend just as far. But stop me at about two feet this +first time. I'm not taking any chances; I want to be alive and kicking +when I announce the success of my experiments to the scientific +world."</p> + +<p>His assistant said nothing.</p> + +<p>"Well, here goes," Garth added. "I'd better take off my clothes if I +don't want to be buried in them. They're not affected by the process. +Must be because of the lack of organic connection between their fibers +and the human body."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, nude, he jumped onto the laboratory table. He +presented a perfect specimen of well-developed manhood as he stood +before the door of the chamber. His smooth skin, under which the +rounded muscles rolled easily, gleamed white beneath the glare of the +floodlight. His gray eyes glanced at the stolid assistant, who already +had one hand on the switchboard's lever. Garth saw that the hand was +trembling slightly, and smiled as he realized Hagendorff was as +excited as he. He said:</p> + +<p>"I'll leave the door ajar, so you can more easily watch every phase of +the reduction. If it's painful—well, I guess I can stand anything a +cat can!"</p> + +<p>Then, stooping slightly, Garth stepped in and drew the door almost +shut.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>e relaxed as much as possible from the tremendous excitement that +filled him, and nodded at Hagendorff.</p> + +<p>"I'm ready," he said. "Go ahead!"</p> + +<p>The ray came to his body as the crash of thunder comes to the ear. His +nerves leaped as it struck and enveloped him. He felt as if he were +entombed in ice, and yet his veins were aflame. Fiery shafts fanged +him all through and resolved, presently, into a measured, tingling +beat.</p> + +<p>His thoughts raced. He knew that those minute particles of matter, the +atoms of his body, were being compacted; he sensed that his legs were +rigid, his body stiff, his eyes clamped ahead in a glazed stare. He +was only half-conscious of the objects outside, but the dim sight of +them was fantastic and nauseous.</p> + +<p>There was Hagendorff's face peering in at him—growing! Swelling as +the cat's body had swollen; and yet receding and rising until Garth, +momentarily forgetting that he was the one whose size was changing, +thought that the man's titanic body would fill the room. But the room +was growing, too: the stools were becoming leviathans of wood, the +walls were like cliffs, the compact<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> switchboard was a large surface +of black, and the chamber in which he stood grew into a high-roofed +vault, its sides shooting up and retreating as if shoved by invisible +hands.</p> + +<p>And still he sank, and still the terrible light devoured him.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a delirious sensation engulfed him; his senses went reeling +away, and he staggered. Then with a wrench he came to. As he regained +control of his mind he knew the lever had been switched off and the +process completed.</p> + +<p>He found that he was gasping. He passed a hand over his sweat-studded +face and looked around.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_o.jpg" alt="O" width="35" height="40" /></div> +<p>utside was the room of a giant. And in a moment a giant became +visible. His vast bulk filled the chamber's doorway; his mammoth face +peered in. Garth's eardrums quivered from a deep bass rumble, sounding +like thunder on a distant horizon.</p> + +<p>"Are you all right, Howard?"</p> + +<p>A finger half the length of his own arm reached forward and prodded +him. For a second Garth could do nothing but stare at it. It brought +home to him starkly the puny size of his body, only two feet in +height. He felt suddenly afraid. But that was foolish, he thought; and +he laughed, his voice ludicrously high and shrill.</p> + +<p>"I'm all right," he cried. "But I can hardly understand you. If I were +much smaller, I probably couldn't—your voice'd seem so deep. Gangway, +Hagendorff, I'm coming out!"</p> + +<p>His eyes were just below the level of the giant's shoulders. He +stepped from the black chamber and stared amazedly at the room, at the +chairs, the objects in it—at the laboratory table on which he was +standing, along which he might have sprinted thirty yards. A surge of +exultant animal spirits flowed through him. His dream had become a +reality; the machine had passed its last test! His body was sound and +whole; he felt perfectly natural; he had not changed, save in size; +and in size he was like Gulliver, confronted with a Brobdingnagian +room!</p> + +<p>He hurdled a five-inch-high box of tools, ran down the creaking table +and stood laughing in front of a rack of test tubes half as high as he +was. Three strides took Hagendorff opposite him; and from above the +thunderous voice rumbled:</p> + +<p>"What were your sensations?"</p> + +<p>"Probably as close as man'll ever get to the feelings of a spark of +electricity!" the midget replied. "But bearable, though I was freezing +and burning at the same time. My body was rigid, paralyzed—just like +the animals we used. I couldn't move."</p> + +<p>"You're sure you couldn't move? You were helpless?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he booming voice throbbed with sudden interest. Garth looked up +curiously. "No," he repeated. "I couldn't move. But lift me down, +Hagendorff. I want to take a walk on the floor."</p> + +<p>A hand wrapped around his body, tensed and strained upwards. The +two-foot-high man was not quite pulled off the table. Then Hagendorff +grunted and relaxed his grasp.</p> + +<p>"I had forgotten," he rumbled. "Your weight remains the same. You are +one-third my size, yet you weigh almost as much as I do. Weight, which +is the sum of the mass of all the atoms in you, is not, naturally, +affected by compacting those atoms."</p> + +<p>It was only by a great effort that he was able to deposit the manikin +on the floor.</p> + +<p>For a while Garth strolled around, savoring to their full the +fantastic sensations his diminished stature gave him, at once amused +and somehow frightened by the overwhelming<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> size of the laboratory. To +his eyes, the tables were like bridges; Hagendorff's broad figure +loomed monstrously over him, and the guinea pigs and rabbits in their +cages seemed as big as fair-sized dogs. With a grin, he looked up at +the giant who was his assistant.</p> + +<p>"Think I'll make the return trip, and give you a chance," he said. +"I've had my share, and the process has been proven. It's weird, being +down in this new world all alone. I'd hate to think what would happen +if a rat came along!"</p> + +<p>Silently, Hagendorff stooped and grasped him again. But Garth, when he +stood once more inside the chamber, regarded his huge, rough-moulded +face curiously.</p> + +<p>"Say," he said, puzzled, "your hands are trembling like the devil! +What's wrong? You're more nervous than I am!"</p> + +<p>Hagendorff did not answer. He advanced to the switchboard. His +narrowed, deep-set eyes shot a quick glance at the small, nude man +inside the chamber, and for a second one hand hovered over the lever +on the panel.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i.jpg" alt="I" width="16" height="40" /></div> +<p>n that tense second a flash of intuition, of deadly fear, came to +Garth Howard, and he leaped wildly forward. But his rear foot did not +leave the floor of the chamber, and his shout of alarm was choked +midway. Again the fierce ray paralyzed every muscle in him, and he was +locked motionless where he was.</p> + +<p>Helplessly, his glazed eyes stared at Hagendorff, while every moment +his rigid little body melted downwards. He was becoming rapidly +smaller, not larger!</p> + +<p>Through the agony of the stabbing electrical waves, in vain Garth +tried to wrench his legs free. The few inches that separated him from +the door were an impassable barrier. Sheer panic clutched him. He was +trapped. But why? Why had Hagendorff tricked him?</p> + +<p>As if reading the question, the giant outside came close to the +chamber's door and regarded his captive with eyes that were lit by a +peculiar flame. He grunted, then reached backward and returned the +switchboard lever almost to the neutral point, reducing the speed of +the decreasing process.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is better," the German gloated, in a deep, satisfied tone. +"It will be slower, now. Slower—and more interesting to watch!... I +fancy your eyes are reproachful, my friend. Why have I done it, you +wonder? <i>Ach!</i> This machine, it will startle the world of science; it +will make its inventor famous—not? Yes; and did you think I was going +to stand by and see all the credit go to you? No! To me it shall +go—me alone! And you—" He chuckled and rubbed his hands before going +on.</p> + +<p>"You shall be what the newspapers call a martyr to science. You shall +sink to a foot, to six inches—to one inch—even less, I think! +Eventually the reduction will kill you, of course; and your body shall +be proof of how you died—in an experiment—and shall also prove the +machine's power and my genius!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>e laughed thunderously, a blond and malevolent titan. He did not +notice that, with the lessening of the reduction's speed, a slight +trace of control over his muscles had returned to the midget inside. +His tiny body was slowly diminishing, and complete, hopeless paralysis +and death was not far away. But Garth was fighting every second, +fighting desperately with the trace of strength he possessed to slide +to the door, break the contact and get out from under the ray's +remorseless influence. Almost imperceptibly, the effort lacerating<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +him with pain, he slid his feet forward. Hagendorff talked on. He +seemed to be blinded by the vision of the fame his treachery would +bring him.</p> + +<p>"We shall have an experiment, my Professor; and then you will have an +interesting death! The ray will suck you down; you will crumple and +crumple till you're not much bigger than my thumbnail! And then I +shall—<i>ah!</i>"</p> + +<p>Garth had torn loose. Calling on every ounce of strength and will, the +midget, now no more than one foot high, had reached the edge of the +floor plate and pitched out onto the long laboratory table.</p> + +<p>Giant and dwarf faced each other. For a moment neither spoke or moved. +A breathless tensity hung over the laboratory. The machine droned on, +forgotten. From outside, startlingly near, came the eery hoot of an +owl.</p> + +<p>A tight smile broke through the angry surprise on Hagendorff's face. +"Well, well!" he said, with gargantuan, macabre humor. "We object! It +was foolish, eh, to reduce the power? Next time, it shall not be so. +We—<i>object!</i>"</p> + +<p>With the word, he lunged, and his bulky arms lashed down in a wide, +grasping sweep.</p> + +<p>But Garth's taut muscles, retaining all the strength and vigor of +their normal size had been awaiting just such a move, and his tiny +body described the arc of a tremendous leap that neatly vaulted one +huge arm and started him sprinting swiftly down the table.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p>t the end he wheeled, and before the other overcame his surprise at +such a nimble retreat, burst out indignantly:</p> + +<p>"For God's sake, Hagendorff, what's come over you? Be sensible! You +can't do this; you can't really mean it! Why—"</p> + +<p>"So!" roared the assistant, and his rush cut short the midget's +shrill, frantic words. But his grasp this time was better judged; +Garth felt the great fingers slip over his body. Remembering his +strength, he lashed out at one with all his might. Hagendorff grunted +with pain; but instead of continuing the attack, he suddenly turned +and strode to the door leading into the other room, and closed it with +a bang.</p> + +<p>"You cannot escape," he growled, advancing again; "you merely delay."</p> + +<p>Panting, Garth glanced around the room. He was, in truth, trapped. +There was but the one door; and even if he could reach it, he could +not get it open, for the handle would be far above him. The room was a +sealed arena. For a little while it would go on—a wild leaping and +dodging on the table, a hopeless evading of mammoth hands ... and +then, inevitably, would come a crushing grip on his body, followed by +experimentation and the agony of death in the black chamber.</p> + +<p>Fearful, he waited, a perfect, living statuette, twelve inches +high....</p> + +<p>A grunt preluded the giant's vicious charge. The American staggered +from the brush of a sweeping hand; then, twisting mightily, he dove +under it, like a mouse slipping under the paw of a cat. In doing so he +fell sprawling; and though he was up in a moment, his arm was held. A +hoarse, exultant rumble came to his ears.</p> + +<p>"Caught, my friend!"</p> + +<p>But Hagendorff spoke too soon. With a great wrench, Garth broke free, +and made a tigerish dash back along the table toward the window. And +even as the clumsy titan jumped to the side and grabbed again at him, +he hurled his tiny, heavy body against the pane, and went plunging +through a shower of glass into the cool dark night outside.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>e fell five feet, and the wind was jarred out of him as he crashed +through the branches of a bush under the window into the sodden earth +beneath. Unhurt, save for a few lacerations from the glass, he +staggered to his feet, gasping for his breath, and started to run +across the clearing towards the fringe of dense forest growth that +ringed the cabin.</p> + +<p>Then he heard thunderous footsteps and, a second later, the sound of +the front door being pulled open. Garth turned in his tracks, and +stumbled back beneath the cabin, thanking heaven that it was raised on +short stilts. But the ruse did not give him much of a start, and by +the time he had painfully threaded his way between the piles of timber +left underneath the cabin, Hagendorff had discovered the trick and was +scouting back.</p> + +<p>Then, with the strength of the hunted, Garth was out from under the +other side and sprinting for the doubtful sanctuary of the forest.</p> + +<p>His tiny feet, carrying the weight of a normal-sized man, sank ankle +high into the muddy ground, several times almost tripping him. Even as +he got to where a trail through the bush began, and passed from the +cold starlight into spaces black with clustered shadows, he heard a +bellow from behind, and, glancing back, saw a monstrous shape come +leaping on his tracks.</p> + +<p>He had only seconds in which to find refuge; he could not stick to the +trail. Thick bush, dank and heavy from recent rains, was on either +side, fugitive streaks of pale light from above painting it eerily. +Garth plunged into the matted growth, dropped to hands and knees and +wormed forward away from the trail. Earth-jarring footbeats sounded +close. With frantic haste he wrenched though the scratching tendrils +and came to a miniature clearing.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>e saw the tilted shape of a rotted tree-stump, its roots half washed +away and exposing a narrow crevice between them. Gasping, the nude, +foot-high figure tumbled down into it, and lay there, trying to hush +his labored breathing.</p> + +<p>He was a mere twenty feet from the trail; and though to him the bush +was a jungle, to his pursuer it was only chest-high. A towering shadow +moved along the trail. The thud of heavy footbeats came more slowly to +the listening midget. Hagendorff was searching, puzzled by the vague +shadows, for where Garth had left the path.</p> + +<p>Silence fell.</p> + +<p>Garth's heart was pounding like a trip-hammer. He held himself alert, +ready, if need be, to struggle up from the moist crevice and dart on +further into the bush. He could not see the giant, but could picture +his huge, sullen face all too clearly. Still no sound came. Risking +all, he gripped a root and hauled himself up slightly. Then he peered +around the stump.</p> + +<p>Hagendorff was standing in the thick of the bush. He was not ten feet +away, striving in the gloom to discern the other's tell-tale tracks. +Garth drew his head back, hardly daring to breathe. Shivering, his +naked body miserably cold, he waited, pressed down in the soggy earth. +His betraying tracks were there; the shadows alone befriended him.</p> + +<p>The silence was drawn so fine that the faint cheep of a night-bird +sounded startlingly loud. But then came thunder that sent the bird +winging away in fright, and the night and the forest echoed with the +roar of a wrathful, impatient human voice.</p> + +<p>"You hear me, wherever you are! And hear this: I leave you now, but in +ten minutes I have you! You little fool—you think you can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> get free? +It is only by minutes you delay me!"</p> + +<p>Snarling a curse, the treacherous giant turned and crashed through the +bush and took his huge form striding back towards the cabin.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_g.jpg" alt="G" width="33" height="40" /></div> +<p>arth was thinking of many things as he scrambled back wearily from +his refuge to the trail. He was cursing the unwanted publicity which +prying reporters had given his work in Detroit, and which had led him +to lease the lonely island and build a laboratory in the wilderness. +Had it not been for that publicity, he would never have needed an +assistant, and the vision of fame would never have come to delude +Hagendorff and turn his thoughts towards murder.</p> + +<p>His position seemed a horrible delirium from which he must presently +awake. Naked, dwarfed by each ordinary forest weed, unarmed, and +trembling from the wind-sharpened night, he hardly knew which way to +turn. His body was blotched with blood and mud, and under it the +ragged gashes made by glass and bush stung painfully; he was hungry +and stiff and tired and miserable. He remembered Hagendorff's threat +of capturing him in ten minutes, and forced a smile to his face.</p> + +<p>"Looks kind of bad," he muttered, using his voice in an attempt to +dispel some of the lonely grip of the night, "but we'll keep moving, +anyway! He's coming back soon. Let's see: I'd better make for the +stream. It'll be hard for him to follow my tracks through that. And +then...."</p> + +<p>Then—what? The island was small. He realized he could not stand many +hours of exposure. Inevitably—But he turned his mind from the future +and its seeming hopelessness, and concentrated on the immediate need, +which was to hide himself. Forcing the pace, he struck off on a +shambling trot down the dim trail, on into the deepening, sinister +shadows towards the island's lone stream.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_o.jpg" alt="O" width="35" height="40" /></div> +<p>bstacles that normally he would not have noticed made his path +tortuous. His great weight sank his feet ankle-high in the moist, +uneven ground. Time and time again he stumbled over some imbedded rock +that, potato-sized, was like a boulder to him. Time and time again he +fell, and when he rose his legs were plastered with soggy earth that +did not dry; and the damp, fallen leaves and twigs he pitched into +clung to his coating of mud. Each broken limb and branch, dropped from +the whispering gloom of the trees above, drained the energy from his +tiring muscles. Soon he was conscious of a vague numbness creeping +over him, a deceptive, drowsy warmth into which he longed to sink, but +which he drove back by working his arms and legs as vigorously as he +could.</p> + +<p>On he went, with teeth clenched and eyes fixed on the half-seen trail +ahead—a fantastic, tiny creature hunted like a wild animal by a giant +of his own kind!</p> + +<p>Presently, through the shroud of darkness traced by ghostly slivers of +starlight, came the sound of trickling water. The trail rose, dipped +down; and through that hollow crawled the stream, winding from a +hidden spring to the encompassing river below. Garth was winded when +he came to it; to his eyes it seemed a small river. His legs were so +numb they hardly felt the cold bite of the water that lapped around +them.</p> + +<p>Some furry water animal leaped away as Garth trudged upstream, alarmed +by the strange midnight visitant and the self-encouraging mutterings +of a shrill human voice....<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>e had waded what seemed to him a weary distance—in reality only a +few hundred yards—through the winding, icy creek, when suddenly he +halted and stood stock-still. Listening, he heard the ordinary sounds +of the wind through the fir-spires, and the slow trickle of water; +heard the beating of his own heart. Nothing else. And yet.... He took +another step.</p> + +<p>Then he swung quickly around and peered back, senses alert. There was +no mistaking the sound that had come again. It was the crunch of heavy +feet, thudding at even intervals on damp earth. They were +Hagendorff's; and he was armed with light!</p> + +<p>A long beam of white speared through the tangle of bush and tree +trunks far below. It came slanting down from above, prying for the +story recorded by miniature footprints in the ground. By its distance +from him, Garth could tell Hagendorff had come to where his trail led +into the stream. The ray held steady for minutes. Again it prowled +nervously around, hunting for tell-tale signs, sweeping in widening +circles. Then, it was punctuated by the crunch of a boot.</p> + +<p>The giant was following upstream!</p> + +<p>With the flashlight, he might even be able to trace the prints in the +bed of the creek. Stooping, Garth crept ahead, as silently as he +could, though the stir of water at his feet seemed terribly loud. +There were keen ears behind, craned for sounds like that. He knew he +would have to hide again—quickly—and at that moment he saw a place.</p> + +<p>A cleft in the bank to his right held a small hole, dimly limned by a +wisp of starlight. On hands and feet the midget scrambled cat-like to +it. It slanted down and inwards, only inches wide, so that the earth +was close to his body when he slid feet-first inside. But it was warm +and dry, for it was shielded by a ledge from rain, and with the warmth +the hunted manikin's spirits rose somewhat. The ray of light, which he +could see sweeping back and forth downstream, was still following +slowly, as if Hagendorff were having trouble making out the +water-covered trail. Garth breathed easier, cuddled down—and then, +for some unaccountable reason, he felt uneasy.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>e had not noticed it at first, but now his nostrils were filled with +a queer, musky odor that electrified his nerves and tensed his +muscles. He felt the short hairs on his neck rise; felt his lips +tighten and draw back over clenched teeth. Some long-buried instinct +was warning him of danger—and suddenly he sprang from the hole and +swung around.</p> + +<p>From it, a killer came snaking out, its bared fangs thirsty for his +life blood!</p> + +<p>Arching and swaying its lithe-muscled body, it slid forward in its +graceful, savage way—a weasel, the deadliest pound-for-pound killer +that prowls the forest. It was as long as the naked human who faced it +was tall. Unwittingly, he had chosen its hole as a refuge.</p> + +<p>Retreat would have been impossible, but Garth for some reason did not +even think of it. A strange new sensation poured through his tense +body, a sensation akin to fierce joy. Gone was his tiredness; his +teeth too were bared, matching the wicked fangs before him. Two primal +creatures they were, tooth to tooth and claw to claw, the man as naked +and intoxicated with the blood lust as the ten pounds of bone and +sinew that now darted suddenly for his throat.</p> + +<p>With the lightning quickness that had come to him with small size, +Garth stepped aside. And as the weasel's head streaked by he called<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +on man's distinctive weapon, and put every ounce of his weight behind +a right arm swing that landed square on a cold black nose and doubled +the weasel back in midair.</p> + +<p>Stunned, it writhed for a second on the slippery bank; and then again +it was up, mad with pain now and swaying slightly as it gathered for a +second leap against this creature that fought so strangely.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_b.jpg" alt="B" width="34" height="40" /></div> +<p>ut in the momentary respite Garth had reasoned out his best chance. +He did not try to fight off the second dart with his fists, but went +boldly in. Ducking through the needle claws with head lowered, his +tiny hands streaked in on the furry throat. He found it, and his +fingers thumbed into the wind-pipe; but not before the weasel smelled +the blood its claws had drawn and went utterly berserk. For a moment +there was a wild flurry of furry, tearing legs and a blood-streaked +white body between them, trying desperately to evade their slicing +strokes. They pitched down the bank together, animal and man +struggling silently to the death; and when they jarred to a stop in +the water below, Garth's strategy was achieved.</p> + +<p>He was uppermost; his grip was steel around the throbbing throat, and +the hundred and eighty pound weight of his body was holding the legs +powerless. Not an inch from his face the weasel's fangs clashed +frantically together. Garth maintained his clutch, squeezing with +every bit of his mighty strength. The animal shuddered; then writhed +in the death convulsions; at last lay still.</p> + +<p>Panting, his mind a welter of primate emotions roused by the kill, the +man shook it a last time, jumped to his feet and glared around—to see +the beam of a flashlight only a dozen yards away. His more deadly foe, +the human foe, was upon him. Perhaps the sounds of the fight had +reached his ears.</p> + +<p>Garth lost not a moment. Quickly he slung the weasel's body back into +the hole and jammed himself down after it.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>agendorff approached slowly, mumbling and cursing to himself in +sullen ill-humor. Things were not going as he had expected them to. +The white ray scoured the banks of the stream, searching doggedly. +Nearer he came, and with each step the watching midget's rapid +breathing grew tighter. The towering body was more than shadow now. +Another ten feet and the flashlight would find the marks of the fight.</p> + +<p>But the titan's patience gave out. Closer than he had yet been to his +quarry, he paused, and again the thunder of his voice broke the +night's hush.</p> + +<p>"Bah! This is foolish! In daylight I find him certainly. I have waited +long; I can wait a little more. I need sleep. To-morrow, it will be +different!"</p> + +<p>He swung away from the stream, and in a few minutes the rip and crash +of his progress through the bush had died. In the silence, Garth +Howard considered his situation.</p> + +<p>He faced it squarely, as was his custom. He did not brood over the +treachery of his assistant, or of how unfairly and suddenly it had +plunged him into peril and robbed him of his normal body. He accepted +his position and searched for possible angles of escape. There were +not many hours left in which to make a decisive move. The island was +small, and, as Hagendorff had said, discovery would be inevitable in +daytime.</p> + +<p>Garth thought of the machine, and of the giant sleeping. A desperate +plan came to him, and his jaws set decisively. "I'll do it!" he +exclaimed aloud.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></p> + +<p>The lever which controlled both increase and decrease could be worked +from inside the chamber if he rigged up a system of turning it with a +wire or rope. If he pulled it to the increase only part way, he would, +he knew, have sufficient power over his muscles to pull it back off, +or slide again from the chamber, as he had done before. Whether or not +he could do this depended on Hagendorff's being asleep. Possibly he +could be locked in the living room, if he were there. Or tied. The +increase, even at half speed, would only take about forty seconds. +Once back to his size there would be a fight without odds, Garth +thought grimly.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i.jpg" alt="I" width="16" height="40" /></div> +<p>t was a big risk, and there was probably only a small chance of +succeeding, but it meant getting back to six feet, back to a normal +world, back to equal terms. That was the magnet which drew him +presently toward the cabin laboratory.</p> + +<p>He went slowly, to allow Hagendorff plenty of time to fall soundly +asleep. The giant, as he had said, needed sleep—needed it badly—for, +like Garth Howard, he had done without it for forty-eight hours under +the excitement of imminent success in their work. Garth considered +that his move would be totally unexpected, being made right into the +other's territory. There was a chance.</p> + +<p>And so, cold and weariness banished by thoughts of the goal ahead, he +prowled back along the trail like any small creature of the forest.</p> + +<p>It was half an hour later when he came in sight of the cabin. His +heart drummed excitedly as he stood in the shadows surveying it. He +wondered if Hagendorff was still awake; if he was, perhaps, waiting +for him. Certainly he did not seem to be: the cabin was dark and +silent, and the only door was tightly closed. Still—it might be +wiser to retreat while still free....</p> + +<p>"No, by heaven!" Garth Howard exclaimed in his thoughts. "I'm going +through with it!" Stooping slightly, he left the shadows and ran +boldly into the starlight.</p> + +<p>He half expected to hear a scuffle of feet and see the giant come +leaping out at him; but nothing broke the silence. He made his careful +way along the side of the cabin to the place where a trough for waste +liquids led through a small hole at the level of the floor, and with +great care wormed through.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p>s he started to cautiously reconnoiter, he was suddenly arrested in +his tracks. He had caught the sound of deep, rhythmic breathing. +Hagendorff was asleep, not in the adjoining living room—but in the +laboratory!</p> + +<p>For a moment, Garth did not know what to do. Caution urged him to +retreat; but that would not get him back to his size. On tip-toe, he +explored around. The boards squeaked beneath his great weight, but the +nearby breathing beyond continued in regular rhythm.</p> + +<p>His eyes were toned to the darkness of the laboratory; he saw the +chamber of his atom-compacting machine, its outer sides ghostly in the +faint, reflected starlight, and stared at it with a pang of fierce +longing. So near, it was—so very near! Holding the stolen size of his +body; holding all that was vital to him; holding life itself—it +rested there silently, within reach of a few steps and a quick climb +up one of the table legs. So he thought, his brain whirling with +mingled emotions, his tiny body shivering and aching with cold and its +many hurts. The machine was near—but a barrier blocked the way.</p> + +<p>Hagendorff's bulk lay outstretched on a side table, black in the +shadows, and from him came the level<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> breathing of a sound sleeper, +climaxed now and again by a rumbling snore. He was taking no chances; +his presence there seemed to destroy any hope of the midget's +regaining normal size. But Garth was desperate, and for a minute or so +he considered.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_f.jpg" alt="F" width="33" height="40" /></div> +<p>orty seconds, the increase would take, at half speed. It might be +that long before the giant would waken thoroughly and see what was +happening. He, Garth, might start the process, and, when he saw the +huge figure stirring and waking from the noise of the dynamo, switch +off the ray and get out. No matter how short a time it took Hagendorff +to throw off the fogginess of his sleep, he would be somewhat +increased in size, and the odds of combat would not be so great.</p> + +<p>It was a terrible risk. Did he dare take it? He thought of the forest, +of the raw night, of what was threatened in the morning.... Yes!</p> + +<p>Silently, the manikin clasped the nearest table leg, shinnied up and +hauled himself over the top. As he got there his heart leaped. A sharp +thumping had come from behind. He dropped to his knees and glanced +round; but he immediately rose again, reassured. It was only the +rabbits in their cage, disturbed by the strange figure on the table. +He thanked God that they—and his tarantulas and other insects—could +make no alarming noises.</p> + +<p>Garth found a long strand of wire. The panel's control lever, swung to +the left, controlled increase; to the right, decrease. Garth's plan +was to wind the middle of the wire around it, relay each end around +the two supporting posts of the switchboard, and thus have both ends +of the wire in his hands when he stood inside the chamber. One end of +the wire would enable him to pull the lever over for increase, and +the other to pull it back to neutral when the increase was completed, +or when Hagendorff arose.</p> + +<p>Quickly he started to arrange the wire. Then suddenly his hands +dropped and he stared dismayed at the control panel.</p> + +<p>The power switch had been removed!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i.jpg" alt="I" width="16" height="40" /></div> +<p>t was Hagendorff's work, of course. He had guarded every angle. +Without that switch, the mechanism was lifeless and literally +powerless. It worked on a delicately adjusted and enclosed rheostat; +there was nothing that could be substituted for it. It would take +hours to improvise one in the heart of the apparatus.</p> + +<p>The switch, Garth reflected bitterly, was probably concealed somewhere +about the giant's body.</p> + +<p>He considered the possibility of tying him. He knew where there was a +coil of light, pliable wire on the floor; he might be able to loop it +over the giant's hands and legs while he slept, tie him securely, and +then go through his pockets for the switch. Another hazard! But there +was nothing else to do.</p> + +<p>Garth lowered himself over the table's edge and slid quietly down the +leg. He glanced at the sleeping man, then over across the room to +where, beneath another table, the wire was—and his nerves jumped at +what he saw there.</p> + +<p>From the darkness under the table two spots of greenish fire, close to +the floor, held steadily on him.</p> + +<p>As he stared, they vanished, to reappear more to the right. With the +movement, he glimpsed the outline of a lithe, crouching animal, and +knew it to be the cat he and Hagendorff had experimented on earlier +that night. It was stalking him in the deliberate manner of its kind!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i.jpg" alt="I" width="16" height="40" /></div> +<p>t came edging around, so as to leap on him from the side. He knew +that he represented fair prey to it; that if he tried to run, it would +pounce on him from behind. Wearily he tensed his miniature body, +standing poised on the balls of his feet and never dropping his eyes +for a moment. He could not repress a grim smile at the ludicrousness +of being attacked by an ordinary house-cat, even though it was +tiger-sized to him. Though his victory over the weasel, a far deadlier +fighter, made him confident he could dispatch it, there was another +aspect to the approaching struggle. It would have to be fought in +silence. Not four feet away, Hagendorff slept. There lay the +overwhelming danger.</p> + +<p>Even as these things flashed through his brain, the cat steadily +inched nearer on its padded paws. Ghostly starlight framed it now; +Garth could see the eager, quivering muscles, the long tail, flat +behind, twitching slightly, the rigid, unstirring head and the slowly +contracting paws. The terrible suspense of its stalking scraped his +nerves. There would be a long pause, then an almost imperceptible +hunching forward, with the tail ever twitching; then the same thing +again, and over again. It became unbearable. Garth deliberately +invited the attack.</p> + +<p>He pretended to turn and run, his back towards it. At once he sensed +its tensing body, its bunching muscles—then knew that it had sprung.</p> + +<p>Whirling, he had a fleeting impression of a supple body in midair, of +bristling claws and bared, needlepoint fangs. But he was ready. The +weasel had taught him his best weapon, the great weight of his body. +He streaked in beneath the wide-spread paws, shot his hands into the +fur of the throat and threw himself against the shock of the animal's +suddenly arrested leap.</p> + +<p>There was no standing his weight. Over the cat went, its back thudding +into the floor, its claws held powerless by the hundred and eighty +pounds of hard flesh that straddled it.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he fall had made little noise; but, as Garth tightened the grip of +his fingers and bored inward, a dull, steady thumping began to sound. +It was the cat's tail, pounding on the floor!</p> + +<p>Desperately he tried to hook a leg over it, but could not reach far +enough. It beat like a tom-tom. From above, there came the sound of a +huge frame stirring, and the rumble of a sleepy grunt.</p> + +<p>In a moment, the titan would be thoroughly awake.</p> + +<p>By the drumming tail alone, Garth realized, his chance of regaining +full size was sent glimmering. There was nothing but retreat, now, and +a hasty one, if he valued life. Another noise came from the waking +Hagendorff. He was sitting up, staring around. Garth jumped to his +feet, threw the cat's twitching body beneath the table, and dodged at +full speed for the hole whereby he had entered.</p> + +<p>Like a mouse he wriggled through, leaped to the ground, scrambled up +and made for the forest. He ran with all the speed at his command, and +was almost surprised when he reached the black fringe of the forest in +safety. In the protecting gloom, he dared to pause and look back.</p> + +<p>Hagendorff was not pursuing him. From the sound, he was merely +boarding shut the drain hole, to prevent another entrance in that way; +then, afterwards, the windows.</p> + +<p>Garth was puzzled. "I don't understand it," he said aloud. "Why is he +so sure he can get me in the morning? Isn't he afraid I'll leave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> the +island? Why I've <i>got</i> to try to get away, now. It would be death to +be here after the dawn!"</p> + +<p>He stood there making his plans. They had a rowboat below, powered +with an outboard motor. Even in his present size, he might possibly +run it, if he could get it started. He would strike down-river for +Detroit, and when the gas gave out, the current would carry him on. +Some river boat might pick him up and carry him to friends in the +city. His grotesquely dwarfed body would prove his story, and they +would bring him back and end Hagendorff's mad dream of fame, and help +him to regain his normal size. He could superintend the construction +of another machine if the present one was wrecked.</p> + +<p>When he started down the trail to the river, he seemed to be walking +through a haze. He felt curiously light-headed, and his body was +completely numb. The long exposure was telling on him, and there was +much more of it to come. He wondered if he could hold out until he +reached the mainland.</p> + +<p>But his mind cleared of the daze the cold and near-exhaustion had +brought it to when at last he came to the beach and realized that +again Hagendorff had anticipated him. The rowboat was gone! No wonder +the giant could afford to wait until daylight.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_g.jpg" alt="G" width="33" height="40" /></div> +<p>arth floundered down to the beach and ran to where the craft usually +lay. There was only a groove in the rough, pebbly surface, a groove +left by the boat's keel. He followed it up the bank, and twenty yards +in found the dinghy chained and locked firmly to a large tree.</p> + +<p>The midget's face grew suddenly very haggard as he stood there, +staring at what looked like his death sentence. He should have known +Hagendorff would secure the boat, he told himself bitterly. It was a +cruel blow, and sheer misery of mind and body gripped him as he turned +and peered through the darkness of wind-whipped water and sky toward a +horizon that was already lightening. Down-river lay Detroit, a +friendly, everyday world. It was not far in miles, but it seemed lost +to him forever....</p> + +<p>Garth took his eyes from that prospect with a wry twist to his mouth. +It chanced that they fell on the painter of the rowboat.</p> + +<p>It was a stout Manila cord, some twenty feet in length, and tied +tightly to a ring in the bow of the boat. He looked at it dully for a +full minute before the idea came to him. Then suddenly the lethargy +bred of hopelessness left him. Garth remembered a pocket knife he had +left in the boat the day before. He climbed over the side and began to +fumble about in the darkness. First he came upon a torn handkerchief +which he hastily tied about his loins. Further probing disclosed the +knife wedged under a seat in the boat. When he had finally extricated +it, he threw the knife over the side and climbed out.</p> + +<p>After some minutes of frantic cutting and hacking he severed the rope, +and, quickly taking up one of the ends, ran with it further along the +bank.</p> + +<p>There was still a way of getting off the island. A cold and risky way, +but better than waiting miserably for capture. On the bank was a pile +of sawn logs, intended for firewood; and a strong rope was in his +hands. Much indeed could be done now.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he making of his raft proved a herculean task, a racking and almost +impossible one for a man limited by doll-sized hands and a foot-high +body. First the logs had to be rolled to the water's edge, six<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> of +them. Each was as thick as he was tall, and this first part of his +task took him a precious half hour, every minute of which brought +nearer the dawn. Ripples like ordinary waves washed up the struggling +manikin and left him gasping as he stood braced in the cold water and +tugged one log after another out and wound the rope under and over it. +The raft had to be built in water; he would never have been able to +drag the whole thing off the beach.</p> + +<p>When at last he wearily tied the rope end to the last log, and stuck +his knife handy in it, the clouds on the horizon were flushed by the +coming sun. But his means of escape was completed; and hanging on the +end, he shoved the raft out into the river. Right then he almost lost +his life. For when his feet left the sloping bottom, his great weight, +out of all proportion to the size of his body, pulled him under, and +it was only by virtue of a desperate clutch on the raft that he +escaped drowning. Thrashing furiously, he struggled up from the water, +and lay, totally blown, on the logs. It was then he first realized +that his chance of life was no stronger than the rope which held them +together. For swimming was out of the question, and one or two logs +would never support his hundred and eighty pounds.</p> + +<p>The end which he lay on was well under water, and the waves splashed +up between the bobbing logs. The current he was headed for swept down +fifty yards offshore, which was a sixth of a mile to the little legs +now thrust out behind and making a rhythmic flutter.</p> + +<p>He was off the island! Freedom and life were near! Though his teeth +were chattering, his fingers crushed by the jarring logs, and his body +utterly wretched, he grinned with joy as the stretch between him and +the gloomy mass of the island slowly widened.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>hen came the sun. The skies faded from gray into a delicate, +cloud-flecked blue; slowly the air warmed, and the surface of the +water seemed to calm under it. Though the sun was good on his body, +Garth realized night was more friendly to him, for in the growing +light his craft was all too conspicuous to the giant who would +presently be following his tracks down to the beach. He chided himself +for not having thought of camouflaging the raft with leafy branches. +Doggedly, he forced it out.</p> + +<p>When at last he felt the pull of the current, he ceased his weary +kicking and glanced up into the swiftly advancing dawn. There was a +bird soaring through the keen air up there, gliding in easy circles +with almost motionless wings. Garth gazed at it somewhat wistfully, +envying its freedom and power of flight. And then he shut his eyes. He +was very tired....</p> + +<p>He must have dozed off for a moment, for he awoke to find himself +slipping off. With a sudden jerk he regained his position—and that +was what saved his life at that moment. For without warning, while he +was nodding, plumed death struck from the skies.</p> + +<p>It dropped like a plummet, as was its manner. It had been circling +above and judging its swoop, and by rights its curved talons should +have arched deep into the unguarded back of the naked figure on the +raft. But at the last second the figure moved aside—too late for the +hawk to alter its swoop.</p> + +<p>The raft rocked under the impact; for a moment Garth Howard, dazed by +the sudden attack, did not know what had happened. Huge scratching +wings were thrashing about him; his left arm stung from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> where a claw +had raked it; and he wrenched around to stare into two wicked slits of +eyes behind a fierce, rounded beak that jabbed at him.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_e.jpg" alt="E" width="34" height="40" /></div> +<p>vidently he represented easy prey to the hawk, for it did not soar +away, but instead came at him again in a flurry of beating wings and +stabbing beak, a vicious, feathered fighter from above. Caught off +guard by the suddenness and savagery of the onslaught, Garth retreated +stumblingly, forgetting his weight and the size of the raft and +defending himself with his arms as best he could against the rushes of +the hawk. The raft tilted perilously; water washed around his legs and +he slipped and went under.</p> + +<p>He felt his fingers slipping inexorably over the edge of the log he +had gripped; his legs threshed up a welter of foam, but he kept going +down. Panic clutched him; his weight would sink him like a stone. But +suddenly his clutching hand was gripped by steel-like talons, and +through the water he caught a glimpse of the hawk straining backwards +with mighty sweeps of its wings in an effort to lift him bodily into +the air.</p> + +<p>His size had deceived it. It could not hoist him, but did manage to +drag his head and chest out of the water. That was enough. With an +effort, Garth scrambled onto the raft.</p> + +<p>The hawk, probably greatly surprised by its failure to soar away with +such tiny prey, tore into him again, raking his body painfully. Hardly +knowing what he did, Garth grabbed out as it hovered over him and +succeeded in wrapping his fingers around one of its legs. Then, +bracing himself as best he could, and ignoring the scratching wings +and piercing beak, he gave the leg a sharp twist and heard the crack +of breaking bone.</p> + +<p>He was only half-conscious of the hawk's shrill scream of pain, of +its swift retreat into the blue, with the broken leg dangling +grotesquely. For only a moment he was aware that he had driven it off; +then the pain of his wounds and his utter exhaustion swept up over +him, and he flopped down on the raft in a dead faint....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_f.jpg" alt="F" width="33" height="40" /></div> +<p>or a long time Garth was dimly aware of familiar noises. At first +they were faint and scarcely perceptible; but, as his senses slowly +began to return, disturbing thoughts came to him. He felt that he was +on his back, and confined, and when he twisted, to turn over, he found +he could not. He opened his eyes and blinked.</p> + +<p>He was back in the laboratory—lying bound, hand and foot, on the long +table.</p> + +<p>The giant Hagendorff appeared over him, and his deep voice rumbled:</p> + +<p>"Badly scarred and bruised, my little friend! Cats you have fought, +and birds, and each has left its mark. It was useless to run away last +night—not?"</p> + +<p>Garth was suddenly too full of a weary resignation to even think of +speaking. Remonstrance, he knew, would avail him nothing. The long +struggle for freedom and life was over, and he had lost.</p> + +<p>The assistant was apparently in good humor. He went on:</p> + +<p>"Really, it is too bad, after that magnificent fight of yours! A +hawk—was it not? I was following your tracks, and had just reached +the beach when I see a great fuss on the water. A raft, I see! A bird, +attacking something on it! A little white figure, struggling! Well, it +is that easy. I unlock the boat and go to the raft and find my elusive +friend there, unconscious. So I bring him back here. He has forgotten: +we have an experiment to complete."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was a fire of exultation in the man's eyes as they glared down +at the midget who lay on the laboratory table, just a few feet away +from the chamber of the machine. He reached out and ran a thick finger +over his victim's body.</p> + +<p>"You do not deserve this," he said. "I should kill you outright—but, +graciously, I give you death in the machine. Yours will be the first +human body to be reduced to an inch; maybe less. This is your +martyrdom; for this, your name will live, along with mine, for having +perfected the process."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_g.jpg" alt="G" width="33" height="40" /></div> +<p>arth Howard saw that the window was boarded tightly shut. Then +Hagendorff caught his eyes as, with a grin, he plunged a hand into a +pocket and drew forth the missing panel switch. He dangled it in front +of Garth.</p> + +<p>"What you would have given for this last night, eh? With your wire to +pull the lever so carefully arranged! <i>Ach</i>, it was too bad!" He +shrugged, then picked up a screwdriver and turned to fix the switch on +the control panel.</p> + +<p>The moment his back was turned, Garth gazed frantically around. The +fantastic fate he had striven so desperately to stave off was very +close now. What could he do?</p> + +<p>Some tools lay on the table, just out of his reach, among them a pair +of cutting pliers. He stared at the pliers—an overgrown tool, half as +long as his own body. The twist of Hagendorff's wrist driving home the +first screw brought a cold chill over him. The pliers! It was a +chance!</p> + +<p>He twisted a little, and keeping his eyes on the giant's back, he +inched toward them. His hands, tied at the wrists behind him, clutched +for them; found them. The jaws were open, and there were two sharp +cutting edges. He could not hope to manipulate the whole implement +with his bound hands, but he located one edge, painfully brought the +rope to it and sawed rapidly.</p> + +<p>The steel sliced his flesh, and he felt the warm stickiness of blood. +But he disregarded this and kept on. Hagendorff was still working, all +unconscious—but the last screw was going in. And then some strands of +the rope snapped, and it loosened.</p> + +<p>The next second, Garth had wrenched his hands free.</p> + +<p>Then, throwing caution to the winds, he sat up, grabbed the great tool +and sliced the rope at his feet.</p> + +<p>At that moment, Hagendorff finished his job and turned around.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>heir eyes met. For a breathless instant nothing happened, save that +the smile on the titan's face changed to surprise and then fury. Garth +scrambled to his feet. The movement brought a bellow of rage, and the +manikin saw two enormous hands converging on him in a sweep that bade +fair to crush every bone in his dwarfed body.</p> + +<p>Leaping backwards instinctively, he hurled the pliers at the giant's +head.</p> + +<p>They were well aimed, and he saw them strike the temple, stopping the +man in his tracks. He thundered, more from anger than pain. His heart +pounding wildly, Garth ran back to a position behind a rack of test +tubes. It was from there that he saw Hagendorff, cursing crazily, grab +up a machinist's hammer and advance upon him.</p> + +<p>All sanity had apparently left the giant. His great face was flushed +and distorted, and a growing welt showed where the pliers had clipped +him. Garth suddenly knew that if he were captured again, death would +not come in the chamber, but from those powerful hands, or the weapon +they clutched.</p> + +<p>The hammer swung back for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> crushing blow. But in the instant it hung +poised, Garth lifted a half-filled test tube from the rack before him +and swished its contents forward.</p> + +<p>The tube held sulphuric acid, and it sprayed over Hagendorff's face. +The hammer pitched from his hand; he clutched at his eyes and stumbled +back, shrieking in agony.</p> + +<p>Garth at once ran to the edge of the table, swung himself over and +slid down the leg to the floor. The laboratory door was open and he +dashed for it. But, whether or not Hagendorff could see his frantic +retreat, he anticipated it, and with a reeling plunge he got there +first. Fumbling, he found the key in the hole and turned it. The room +was sealed.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_b.jpg" alt="B" width="34" height="40" /></div> +<p>eginning then, the blind Hagendorff was a man berserk. With a sobbing +roar of pain and fury, he lashed round for the foot-high figure that +dodged and wheeled and zig-zagged to keep from his threshing arms and +his hands. A table crashed over, and a flood of chemicals mixed and +boiled on the floor; then another, as the giant blundered blindly into +it. The cages of animals split open, and guinea pigs, rabbits and +insects scuttled from their prisons, fleeing to the corners from the +wild plunges of the raging German.</p> + +<p>Garth went reeling from a glancing blow, and fell against an +over-turned stool under a far table where he could hardly breathe for +the mixed odors of spilt chemicals. By some sixth sense, Hagendorff +seemed to locate him, for his huge body turned and came directly for +him.</p> + +<p>But Garth did not wait. Seizing the stool he whirled it so that it +slid smash into the giant's legs. The man pitched over with a grunt, +striking the floor so hard that the planks shivered.</p> + +<p>He did not rise. He lay there, in a wreckage of glass and splintered +wood and stinking chemicals, moaning slightly.</p> + +<p>Garth wasted no time, but gripped a leg of the laboratory table, +shinned to the top and with frantic speed fixed his strand of wire +onto the control lever and round the supporting posts of the +instrument panel. Then he jumped for the dynamo switch, caught the +handle and jerked it down.</p> + +<p>The drone of a generator surged through the room. Then the midget was +standing in the chamber, both ends of the wire in his hands; and his +heart was thudding madly as he pulled one of them.</p> + +<p>It held. Over came the lever, halfway. The brilliant stream of the ray +poured down. Dimly the manikin glimpsed the chamber's walls sinking +down, the wreckage-strewn room outside diminishing to normal size. +Fiery pain throbbed through him, but it was lost in the exultation +that filled his mind as the seconds went by. He grew to two feet, two +and a half—three.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_b.jpg" alt="B" width="34" height="40" /></div> +<p>ut beyond that he was not to go. The swaying shape of Hagendorff +loomed outside the cube. Aroused by the drone of the generator and +what it signified, the giant had floundered up from the floor and now +came clutching blindly for him.</p> + +<p>Garth knew he would have to leave the chamber at once; so, struggling +for command of his muscles through the paralysis that numbed them, he +tensed his hold on the other wire and pulled it a little. The control +lever swung back to neutral; the ray faded and Garth jumped out. He +was only a few feet away from the huge convulsed face as the German +roared:</p> + +<p>"By God, you'll never get back on <i>this</i> machine!"</p> + +<p>His purpose was plain; his groping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> hand had already found the control +lever. To prevent his ripping it out, Garth plunged head first into +Hagendorff's stomach, and they both went down in a flurry of arms and +legs. Garth, scrambling to get loose, was conscious of the ray pouring +down again in the chamber above. The lever had not been wrenched out, +but jerked over, setting the process of increase on.</p> + +<p>The next few minutes were a chaos. Now that Howard was three feet tall +he was without some of the advantages of his former smallness and +compactness, and his utmost efforts failed to free him from the death +clutch of the pain-maddened giant. Over and over they rolled on the +floor. Garth trying only to break free, and the other relentlessly +holding on and dragging him over to the chamber again.</p> + +<p>It was a losing fight for the diminutive one, weakened as he was by +his exposure and the fierce fights he had had. Little by little, +squirming and resisting with all his remaining strength, he was +brought near—to see the German, at last, pull half the reducing +apparatus with a crash to the floor.</p> + +<p>The ray in the chamber faded off. The machine was silenced forever, so +that Garth could never hope to regain his full size in this one....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_w.jpg" alt="W" width="48" height="40" /></div> +<p>ith the realization of this, most of his spirit went, while the +savage giant, successful in smashing the machinery, now turned and +devoted himself exclusively to his victim.</p> + +<p>"Now for you!" he roared in frightening triumph, clutching the smaller +man's neck with his great hands and bearing him to the floor.</p> + +<p>Against those fingers gouged into his wind-pipe like a vise of steel, +Garth could do nothing. Feebly he gagged, and feebly he clawed at the +pitiless hands—and futilely.</p> + +<p>It was the end, he told himself. He had come close, but closeness did +not count. His eyes bulged, and a shroud of black began to obscure his +vision.</p> + +<p>And then, suddenly, over the giant's flexed arms, he glimpsed, coming +from the chamber on the table, something that chilled the blood in his +veins with horror.</p> + +<p>It was huge and utterly loathsome. Long, hairy legs folded out, and +following them came a furry, bloated body at least five feet thick. +Many-faceted eyes fixed themselves coldly on the men on the floor. In +one hideous leap the monster soared from the table all the way to the +room's ceiling, seeming almost to float as it came down. For a moment +it teetered on the floor, not five feet from the giant who, blind and +all unconscious of it, was throttling his diminutive victim beneath +him.</p> + +<p>Garth for a second forgot the grip on his throat in the horror of the +monster. He knew at once what it was—a tarantula. It had crawled +inside the chamber when its cage was broken, had been there even while +he had been there, and had been swollen to its present blood-curdling +size while they were fighting and the ray was on. With the smashing of +the apparatus, it was free to come out.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i.jpg" alt="I" width="16" height="40" /></div> +<p>t gathered for the final spring, its terrible legs tensing +perceptibly—a creature out of a nightmare. Garth Howard tried to +shriek out a warning, but Hagendorff was holding his throat too well. +He could only struggle weakly and nod toward the horror beyond; but +the message did not get across to the giant.</p> + +<p>Then the tarantula sprang again.</p> + +<p>For a moment it seemed to hover on Hagendorff's upturned back. When it +floated down, its ragged legs cradled over him, and the egg-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>shaped +body squatted on his back....</p> + +<p>Garth felt his frayed nerves and senses going. A hairy leg was +touching him, chilling his flesh. Above him, the giant was thrashing +impotently, and he found his neck free of the awful grip.</p> + +<p>He wormed free. He was hardly conscious of reaching up and unlocking +the door, and closing it tightly again as he stumbled forth. Later, it +seemed that it was in a dream that he ran wildly into the splendid +sunlight outside and down the winding trail. It was only by a +tremendous effort that he kept his senses long enough to shove the +rowboat out from the beach and hop in.</p> + +<p>He never started the motor. All that he had seen and suffered on the +island of horror overcame him too soon, and he pitched down in a limp, +unconscious heap....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p>nd so it was, that, the next morning, the two harbor policemen found +a rowboat with mysterious cargo floating silently down the Detroit +River. So it was that some time later a launch with three local +officers churned up to the solitary island, and that gunshots echoed +in the gloom of a hushed laboratory room, and a man's white-faced body +was carried from the cabin where he had made his one great treacherous +effort to steal another's fame.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h3>"JAZZING UP THE UNIVERSE"</h3> +<p>Centuries of celestial history wheeled across the plaster sky of the +new Adler planetarium at Chicago, recently, at the dedication of the +astronomical institution, the first of its kind in the Western +Hemisphere.</p> + +<p>A modern Joshua, working the levers and switches of a complicated +instrument, commanded a miniature sun to stand still in the +heavens—and it did. He bettered the feat of the Biblical prophet by +stopping the sun at any given point on its orbit across the skies, and +then ran it backward, its attendant planets, planetoids and stars +scampering contrary to all rules of the universe.</p> + +<p>The Joshua in the person of Professor Philip Fox, director of the +planetarium on a "made" island in Lake Michigan described the +instrument with which he made the heavenly bodies cut capers, as a +projector, made in Germany at a cost of almost $100,000. As nearly as +it can be described by a layman it looks like three immense diving +helmets capping the ends of a tube about six feet long. Each "helmet" +is studded with lenses and inside are complicated and strange lights +and projectors which throw the images of the celestial bodies on the +white plaster dome above that represents the skies. The wheeling +motion of the universe toward the west is obtained by revolving the +"helmets" in eccentric circles on an axis. The whole effect makes a +spectator feel as if the solar system was revolving around him at a +greatly accentuated speed.</p> + +<p>As a beginning lesson for the layman who attended the opening, +Professor Fox set the machine to represent the latitude of Chicago on +May 10, 1930. Every one turned his eyes to the east, where a +silhouette of Lake Michigan, with its lighthouses and ore ships, is +painted on the plaster horizon. The dome was lighted to represent a +clear night, and, incidentally, all nights are clear in a planetarium. +The machine was started and up from the center of the Lake jumped +Mars, red against the darkness.</p> + +<p>Professor Fox, with a flashlight that throws the image of an arrow, +pointed out the stars as they appeared over the dome. The coming of +Mars forecast the dawn of May 10 and in a few moments the sun emerged +from the proper latitudinal position out of the lake and blazed its +way across the heavens and set behind the silhouette of the Standard +Oil Building on the west wall of the dome in less than a minute, +denoting that the day had passed in review. At 3:43 P. M. central +standard time, the midget moon arose and sailed its course and then +set behind the darkened picture of the Straus Tower.</p> + +<p>Then Professor Fox ran off Sunday, Monday and Tuesday for good +measure, each time with Mars heralding the dawn and the sun changing +position as it does in reality. Fifty centuries of astronomical +history can be run off in an hour by the machine. The planets are +visible during the day in the planetarium as well as night.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="The_Moon_Weed" id="The_Moon_Weed"></a>The Moon Weed</h2> + +<h3><i>By Harl Vincent</i></h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/image_010.jpg" width="500" height="466" alt="Bart hacked and hacked at the rubbery growth." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Bart hacked and hacked at the rubbery growth.</span> +</div> +<p> </p> + +<div class="sidenote">Unwittingly the traitor of the Earth, Van pits himself +against the inexorably tightening web of plant-beasts he has released +from the moon.</div> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h2.jpg" alt="H" width="42" height="50" /></div> +<p>obart Madison pursed his lips in a whistle of incredulous surprise as +he regarded the object that lay in the palm of his hand. An ordinary +pebble, it seemed to be, but a pebble in which a strange fire +smouldered and showed itself here and there through the dull surface.</p> + +<p>"Would you mind repeating what you just said, Van?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"You heard me the first time. I say that that's a diamond and that it +came from the moon." Carl Vanderventer glared at his friend in +resentment of his doubting tone.</p> + +<p>"Mean to tell me you've been there? To the moon?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not. I'm not a Jules Verne adventurer. But I'm telling you +that stone is a diamond of the first water and that it came from the +moon. Weighs over a hundred carats, too. You can have it appraised +yourself if you think I'm kidding you."</p> + +<p>Bart Madison laughed. "Don't get<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> sore, Van," he said. "I'm not +doubting your word. But Lord, man—the thing's so incredible! It takes +a little time to soak in. And you say there are more?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. This one's the largest of five I've found so far. And there's +other stuff, too. Wait till you see. Fossils, beetles and things. I +tell you, Bart, the moon was inhabited at one time. I've the evidence +and I want you to be the first to see it." The eyes of the young +scientist shone with excitement as he saw that his friend was roused +to intense interest.</p> + +<p>"So that's what all your experimenting has been aimed at. No wonder it +cost so much."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and you've been a brick for financing me. Never asked a +question, either. But Bart, it'll all come back to you now. Know how +much that stone's worth?"</p> + +<p>"Plenty, I guess. But, forget about the financing and all that. +Where's this laboratory of yours?" Madison had pushed his chair back +from his desk and was reaching for his hat.</p> + +<p>"Over in the Ramapo Mountains, not far from Tuxedo. I'll have you +there in two hours. Sure you can spare the time to go out there now?" +Vanderventer was enthusiastically eager.</p> + +<p>"Spare the time? You just try and keep me from going!"</p> + +<p>Neither of them noticed the sinister figure that lurked outside the +door which led into the adjoining office. They chattered excitedly as +they passed into the outer hall and made for the elevator.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_v.jpg" alt="V" width="36" height="40" /></div> +<p>anderventer's laboratory was a small domed structure set in a +clearing atop the mountain and well hidden from the winding road which +was the only means of approach. Though Bart Madison, who had inherited +his father's prosperous brokerage business, had financed his friend's +research work ever since the two left college, this was his first +visit to the secluded workshop, and its wealth of equipment was +revealed to him as a complete surprise. He had always thought of Van's +experiments as something beyond his ken; something uncanny and +mysterious. Now he was convinced.</p> + +<p>The most prominent single piece of apparatus in the laboratory was a +twelve-inch reflecting telescope which reared its latticed framework +to a slit in the dome overhead. Paralleling its axis and secured to +the same equatorial mounting was a shining tube of copper which +bristled with handwheels and levers and was connected by heavy +insulated cables to an amazing array of electrical machinery that +occupied an entire side of the single room.</p> + +<p>"Regular young observatory you've got here, Van," Bart commented when +he had taken all this in in one sweeping glance of appraisal.</p> + +<p>"Yeah, and then some. Not another like it in the world." Van was +busying himself with the controls of his electrical equipment, and a +powerful motor-generator started up with a click and a whirr as he +closed a starting switch.</p> + +<p>Madison watched in silence as the swift-fingered scientist fussed with +the complicated adjustments of the apparatus and then turned to the +massive concrete pedestal on which his telescope was mounted. At his +touch of a button the instrument swung over on its polar axis to a new +position. The slit in the dome was opened to the afternoon sky, +revealing the lunar disc in its daytime faintness.</p> + +<p>"You can see it just as well in daylight?" Bart asked as his friend +peered through the eyepiece of the telescope and continued his +adjustments.</p> + +<p>"Sure, the surface is just as bright<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> as at night. Doesn't seem so to +your eye, but it's different through the telescope. Here, take a +look."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_b.jpg" alt="B" width="34" height="40" /></div> +<p>art squinted through the eyepiece and saw a huge crater with a +shadowed spire in its center. Like a shell hole in soft earth it +appeared—a great splash that had congealed immediately it was made. +The cross-hairs of the eyepiece were centered on a small circular +shadow near its inner rim.</p> + +<p>"That," Van was saying, "is a prominent crater near the Mare Nubium. +The spot under the cross-hairs is that from which I have obtained the +diamonds—and other things. Watch this now, Bart."</p> + +<p>The young broker straightened up and saw that his friend was removing +the cover from a crystal bowl that was attached to the lower end of +the copper tube that pointed to the heavens at the same ascension and +declination as the telescope. The air of the room vibrated to a +strange energy when he closed a switch that lighted a dozen vacuum +tubes in the apparatus that lined the wall.</p> + +<p>"You say you bring the stuff here with a light ray?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No, I said with the speed of light. This tube projects a ray of +vibrations—like directional radio, you know—and this ray has a +component that disintegrates the object it strikes and brings it back +to us as dissociated protons and electrons which are reassembled in +the original form and structure in this crystal bowl. Watch."</p> + +<p>A misty brilliance filled the bowl's interior. Intangible shadowy +forms seemed to be taking shape within a swirling maze of ethereal +light that hummed and crackled with astounding vigor. Then, abruptly, +the apparatus was silent and the light gone, revealing an odd object +that had taken form in the bowl.</p> + +<p>"A starfish!" Bart gasped.</p> + +<p>"Yeah, and fossilized." Van handed it to him and he took it in his +fingers gingerly as if expecting it to burn them.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he thing was undoubtedly a starfish, and of light, spongy stone. Its +color was a pale blue and the ambulacral suckers were clearly +discernible on all five rays.</p> + +<p>"Lord! You're sure this is from the moon?" Bart turned the starfish +over in his hand and gazed stupidly at his friend.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, you nut. Think I had it up my sleeve? But here, watch +again, there's something else."</p> + +<p>The crackling, misty light again filled the bowl.</p> + +<p>"Suppose," Bart ventured, "you bring in something large—big as a +house, let's say. What would it do to your machine?"</p> + +<p>"Can't. The ray'll only pick up stuff that'll enter the bowl. +Look—here's the next arrival."</p> + +<p>The mysterious light died down and the scientist picked up the second +object with trembling fingers. It was a knife of beautiful +workmanship, fashioned from obsidian and obviously the work of human +hands.</p> + +<p>"There! Didn't I tell you?" Van gloated. "Guess that shows there were +living beings on the moon."</p> + +<p>He made minute changes in the adjustment of his marvelous instrument +and Bart watched in dazed astonishment as object after object +materialized before their eyes. There were fragments of strange +minerals; more fossils, marine life, mostly; a roughly beaten silver +plate; three diamonds, none of which was as large as what Van had +taken to New York, but all of considerable value.</p> + +<p>"This'll be something for the papers, Van!" Bart Madison was visioning +the fame that was to come to his friend.</p> + +<p>"Yeah, all but the diamonds."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_a1.jpg" alt="A" width="47" height="40" /></div> +<p>ll but the diamonds is right!"</p> + +<p>These words were spoken by a sarcastic voice, chill as an icicle, that +came from the open door. They wheeled to look into the muzzles of two +automatic pistols that were trained on them by a stocky individual who +faced them with a twisted, knowing grin.</p> + +<p>"Danny Kelly!" Bart gasped, raising his hands slowly to the level of +his shoulders. He knew the ex-army captain was a dead shot with the +service pistol, and a desperate man since his disgrace and forced +resignation. "What's the big idea?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"You don't need to ask. Refused me a loan this morning, didn't you? +Now I'm getting it this way." Kelly turned savagely on Van, prodding +his ribs with a pistol. "Get 'em up, you!" he snapped.</p> + +<p>Van had been slow in raising his hands, gaping in stupefied amazement +at the intruder. Now he reached for the ceiling without delay.</p> + +<p>"You'll serve time for this, Danny!" Bart shouted.</p> + +<p>"Shut up! I know what I'm doing. And back up, too—where—no, the +other door." Kelly was forcing him toward the door of the cellar at +the point of one pistol as he kept Van covered with the other.</p> + +<p>Bart clenched his fist and brought it down in a sudden sweeping blow +that raked Kelly's cheek and ear with stunning force. But the gunman +recovered in a flash, dropped the muzzle of his pistol and pulled the +trigger. Drilled through the thigh, Bart staggered through the open +door and fell the length of the stairs into the darkness of the +cellar. Kelly laughed evilly as he slammed the door and turned the +key.</p> + +<p>"Hold it, you!" he snarled as he swung on Van who had dropped his +hands and crouched for a spring. "If I drill you, it won't be through +the leg. I'll take those diamonds now."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>e pocketed one of his pistols, and, keeping the other pressed to the +pit of Van's stomach, went through his pockets. Then he added those on +the tray by the crystal bowl to the collection, and transferred the +entire lot to his own pocket.</p> + +<p>"Now, you clever engineer," he grinned, "we'll just operate this trick +machine of yours for a while and collect some more. Hop to it!" He +watched narrowly as Van stretched his fingers to the controls. "No +monkey business, either," he grated; "you'll not change a single +adjustment. I've been listening to you and I know the clock of the +telescope is keeping the ray trained on the same spot. You just +operate the ray and nothing else. Get me?"</p> + +<p>Van did not think it expedient to tell him of the drift caused by +inaccuracies in the clock and perturbations of the moon's motion. He +was playing for time, trying to plan a course of action.</p> + +<p>"There may not be any more diamonds," he offered as he tripped the +release of the ray.</p> + +<p>"Oh, there'll be more. Don't try to kid me."</p> + +<p>An irregular block of quartz materialized in the bowl and Kelly tossed +it to the floor in savage disgust. Then a small diamond, very small; +but he pocketed it nevertheless. The next object was a strange one—a +dried seed pod about six inches in length and of brilliant red color. +The ray had shifted to a new position on the lunar surface. Another +and another of the strange legumes followed, one of them bursting open +and scattering its contents, bright red like the enclosing pod to +rattle over the floor like tiny glass beads. Kelly snorted his +disgust.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Still some sort of vegetation out there," Van muttered. The eternal +scientist in the man could not be downed by a mere hold-up.</p> + +<p>"Can the chatter!" Kelly snarled as the crystal bowl gave up another +of the useless pods and still another. He gathered up the evidence of +lunar vegetation, a half dozen of the pods, and threw them through the +open doorway with a savage gesture. "You trying to put one over on +me?" he bellowed.</p> + +<p>"How can I?" Van retorted mildly. "I haven't touched a handwheel." He +was wondering vaguely whether this lunar seed would grow in earthly +soil; what sort of a plant it would produce under the new environment.</p> + +<p>Kelly was becoming nervous now. It seemed that little was to be gained +by hanging around this crazy man's laboratory. He had a sizable +fortune in rough stones already. That big one alone, when properly cut +into smaller stones, would make him independent. Maybe there weren't +any more, anyway. And the longer he stayed the greater chance there +was of getting caught.</p> + +<p>The advent of another of the pods decided him. A quick blow with the +butt of his pistol stretched Van on the floor and Kelly fled the +scene.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_b.jpg" alt="B" width="34" height="40" /></div> +<p>art was pounding furiously on the cellar door when Van first took +hazy note of his surroundings. Several uncertain minutes passed before +he was able to stagger across the room and release his friend.</p> + +<p>"Where is he?" Bart demanded, swaying on his feet and blinking in the +sudden light.</p> + +<p>"Gone. Socked me and beat it with the diamonds." Van was mopping the +blood from his eyes with a handkerchief. "Are you hit bad?" he +inquired.</p> + +<p>"No, just a flesh wound. Hurts like the devil, though. How about +yourself?" Bart limped to his side and sighed with relief when he +examined his bleeding scalp. "Not so bad yourself, old man. Where's +your first aid kit?"</p> + +<p>Van was still somewhat dazed and merely pointed to the cabinet. "Fine +pair we turned out to be!" he grumbled after his head had cleared a +bit under Bart's vigorous cleansing of the cut on his temple. "Here we +stood, meek as a couple of lambs, and let that guy get away with +murder."</p> + +<p>"Yeah, but those forty-fives made the difference. Ouch!" Bart winced +as his friend poured fresh iodine over the wound in his leg. "Have a +heart, will you?"</p> + +<p>They were startled into silence by a hoarse, strangled scream that +came from outside the laboratory. "Help! Help!" someone repeated in a +panicky voice—a voice which at once ended on a gurgled note of +despair.</p> + +<p>"It's Kelly!" Bart whispered. "He's come back. Something's happened to +him." He started for the open door.</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute. It may be a trick to get us outside where he can pop +us off."</p> + +<p>"No, it isn't. For God's sake, look!" Bart had reached the door and +was pointing at the ground with shaking forefinger.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he entire clearing seemed to be alive with wriggling things—long +rubbery tentacles that crawled along the ground, reaching curling ends +high in the air and had even started climbing the trees at the edge of +the clearing. Blood red they were, and partially transparent in the +light of the setting sun; growing things, attached by their thick ends +to swelling mounds of red that seemed anchored to the ground. +Translucent stalks rose from the mounds and sprouted huge buds that +burst and blossomed into flaming<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> flowers a foot in diameter, then +withered and went to seed in a moment of time. But always the weaving +tendrils shot forth with lightning speed, reaching and feeling their +uncanny way along the ground and over tree stumps into the woods. One +of them emerged from a hollow stump with its slender end coiled around +the tiny body of a chattering gray squirrel.</p> + +<p>"The moon flowers!" Van cried.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean—moon flowers?"</p> + +<p>"Dried seed pods. They came over into the bowl, and Kelly threw them +out. Now look at the damned things. They're alive!"</p> + +<p>Kelly's voice came to them once more from behind the barrier of +rapidly growing vegetation. "Help!" he screeched. "I'll give back the +diamonds—anything! Only get me away from the things!"</p> + +<p>"Ought to let 'em get him," Van growled.</p> + +<p>Bart shivered. "Too horrible, Van. Got an ax or anything?"</p> + +<p>"There's a hatchet around back. Maybe we can—"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_b.jpg" alt="B" width="34" height="40" /></div> +<p>ut the young broker had scuttled around the corner of the building +and Van looked after him anxiously. The vile red tendrils were +reaching for the east wall of the laboratory, and he saw that their +inner surfaces were covered with tiny suckers like those on the arms +of a devil-fish. Carnivorous plants, undoubtedly, these awful +half-animal, half-vegetable things whose seed had been transported +across a quarter million miles of space. Man eaters! Deadly, and +growing with incredible speed. Even the short-lived flowers were +fearsome, as they opened their scarlet pansy-like faces and stared a +moment before they folded up and shriveled into the seed cases like +those that had materialized in the crystal bowl.</p> + +<p>Then he noticed that the pods were opening and spreading more of the +terrible seed. Nothing could stop this weird growth, now. It would +cover the country like a sea of flaming horror, overcoming and +devouring every living thing. Cold fear clutched at Van as he realized +the enormity of the calamity that had come to the earth.</p> + +<p>Bart was skirting the edge of the clearing with the hatchet in his +hand, and Van tried to call out to him, to warn him. But his voice +caught in his throat, and instead he ran to his assistance, circling +the spreading menace to get around behind where Kelly was still +shouting. Damn Kelly anyway! This never would have happened if he +hadn't come on the scene!</p> + +<p>Kelly was in the woods, wedged into the crotch of a tree and striking +wildly at the clutching tendrils with his clubbed pistol. They mashed +easily and dripping red, but were not to be deterred from their +ghastly purpose. Kelly's time would have indeed been short had not his +erstwhile victims come to the rescue. One of the thickest of the +twining things encircled his body and had him pinned to the tree. His +breath was coming in gasps as its tightening coils increased their +pressure. His coarse features were livid and his eyes bulged from +their sockets.</p> + +<p>Bart hacked and hacked at the rubbery growth until he had him free; +jerked him from his perch, blubbering and whining like a schoolboy. +His shirt had been torn from his breast and they saw a great red welt +where the blood had been drawn through the pores by those terrible +suckers.</p> + +<p>"Look out, Bart!" Van shouted.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p>nother of the creeping things had come through the underbrush and was +wrapping its coils around Bart's ankle. Another<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> and another wriggled +through, and soon they were battling for their own freedom. Kelly +staggered off into the woods and went crashing down the hill, leaving +them to take care of themselves as best they might.</p> + +<p>The stench of the viscous liquid that oozed from the injured tendrils +was nauseous; it had something of a soporific effect; and the two +friends found themselves fighting the terror in a growing mist of red +that blinded and confused them. Then, miraculously, they were free and +Van assisted Bart as they ran through the forest. When they reached +the road, weak and out of breath, they were just in time to see +Kelly's roadster vanish around the bend.</p> + +<p>"Yeah, he'd give back the diamonds—the swine!" Van muttered +vindictively. Then, shrugging his shoulders, "Well, they won't be much +good to him, anyway. Wouldn't be any good to us either, as far as that +goes."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean? Aren't they real?" Bart was raising himself +painfully into the seat of Van's car, his wounded leg suddenly very +much in the way.</p> + +<p>"Sure they're real. But don't you realize what this thing means—this +ungodly growth that's started?"</p> + +<p>"Why—why, no. You mean it'll keep on growing?"</p> + +<p>"And how! Those inner stalks drop a new batch of seeds every five +minutes or so. Presto!—a flock of new plants spring up ten feet from +the first; dozens of them for every pod that drops. You know how +geometrical progression works out. They'll cover the whole +country—the whole world. Lord!"</p> + +<p>"Man alive, this is terrible! I hadn't thought of that before. What'll +we do?"</p> + +<p>"Yeah, that's the question: what can we do?" Van started his motor and +jerked the car to the road. "First off, we're going to get away from +here—fast!"</p> + +<p>Bart gripped his arm as he shifted into second gear. "Look, Van!" he +babbled. "They're out of the woods already. Loose! The red snakes are +loose from their stalks. They're alive, I tell you!"</p> + +<p>It was true. Several of the slimy red things were wriggling their way +over the macadam like great earthworms, but moving with the speed of +hurrying pedestrians. Free, and untrammeled by the roots and stems of +the mother plants, they had set forth on their own in the search for +beings of flesh and blood to destroy. Millions of their kind would +follow; billions!</p> + +<p>In sudden panic Van stepped on the gas.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_f.jpg" alt="F" width="33" height="40" /></div> +<p>ifteen minutes later, with shrieking siren, a motorcycle drew +alongside and forced them to the curb. "Where's the fire?" the +sarcastic voice of a stern-visaged officer demanded, when Van had +brought his car to a screeching stop. Seventy-five, the speedometer +had read but a moment before.</p> + +<p>"It's life and death, officer," Van started to explain. "We must get +to the proper officials to warn the—"</p> + +<p>"Aw, tell it to the judge! Come on now, follow me."</p> + +<p>"But officer, there's death on its way from the hills, I tell you. +Red, creeping things that'll be here in a couple of hours—"</p> + +<p>"Get away, from that wheel. I'll drive you in meself. You're fulla +applejack."</p> + +<p>Bart had opened the door on his side and was limping his way around +the back of the car. This was serious. They had to get away; had to +spread the word in a way that would be believed before it was too +late. The officer was tugging at Van's arm, astonishment and black +rage showing in his weather-beaten countenance. Speeding,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> drunk, +resisting an officer—they'd never get out of this mess! A swift +uppercut interrupted the proceedings. Bart's leg was numb and stiff, +but his good right arm was working smoothly and with all its old time +precision. His second punch was a haymaker. With his full weight +behind it, it drove straight to the chin and stretched the officer on +the concrete. Thoughtfully, Bart removed his pistol from its holster +before scrambling in at Van's side.</p> + +<p>"Boy, now we're in for it!" he gasped.</p> + +<p>"And we might as well make a good job while we're at it." Van let in +his clutch with a jerk, and again they were breaking all traffic +regulations.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i.jpg" alt="I" width="16" height="40" /></div> +<p>t was dusk when they roared in through the gate at the Rockland +County Airport and pulled up at the hangar office. Van rushed in, +shouting for Bill Petersen, and Bart followed. A slender, fair-haired +youth in rumpled flying togs greeted them.</p> + +<p>"Bill, my friend, Bart Madison," Van blurted without pausing for +breath. "Listen, we've got to have a plane right away. Got one with a +radio?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but what's all the rush? Where you going?"</p> + +<p>"Albany. Right away. Make it snappy, will you?"</p> + +<p>"Sure, but what's it all about?" Young Petersen was leading them to +the field where a sleek mono-plane was in waiting as if they had +ordered it. "Warm her up, Joe," he called to the mechanic.</p> + +<p>"Listen, Bill—I never lied to you, did I?" Van asked, when they were +seated in the plane's cabin.</p> + +<p>"Not that I know of. But sometimes I've thought you were lying, until +I saw with my own eyes the things you had told me about. What is it +this time?"</p> + +<p>"Death and destruction. Coming down out of the Ramapos. We've got to +warn the country. Plants, Bill—squirmy red plants with long feelers +that can twist around a man and devour him. Half animal, they are, and +the feelers break loose and crawl by themselves. Multiplying like +nothing you ever saw. Millions of them in an hour."</p> + +<p>"What?" Petersen stared incredulously as his motor roared into life. +Then he gave his attention to the business of taking off. He jerked +the thumb of his free hand toward the radio.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_v.jpg" alt="V" width="36" height="40" /></div> +<p>an's expert fingers manipulated the switches and dials of the +portable apparatus, and its vacuum tubes glowed into life. "2BXX +calling 2TIM," he droned into the microphone.</p> + +<p>"Who's that?" Bart asked. The drone of the motor was barely audible in +the closed cabin and did not interfere.</p> + +<p>"The <i>Times</i>. Trying to get Johnny Forbes. If anyone can get this +thing across, he can. Wait a minute, here they are." He closed his +eyes as he listened to the murmuring voice in the headphones.</p> + +<p>Then he was talking rapidly, forcefully, and the young flyer gazed +with owlish solemnity at Bart as they listened to his conversation. It +was plain that Bill was but half inclined to believe, though impressed +by the earnestness and evident apprehension displayed by his two +passengers.</p> + +<p>"Yes, 2BXX," Van was saying. "Connect me with Johnny Forbes, +please—in a hurry. Yes.... Hello, Johnny, it's Van—Carl +Vanderventer, you know. Yes; got a scoop for you, but first I want you +to get it in the broadcasts. Get me? It's about a man-eating plant +that's starting to overrun the country. No—listen now, I'm not +dreaming—listen—"</p> + +<p>The frantic scientist rambled on and on about the seed from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> moon, +the red death that was creeping down from the mountains, the horror of +the calamity as he and Bart had visioned it. Then, with a sudden note +of despair, his voice trailed off into nothingness and he turned a +drawn white face to his two friends.</p> + +<p>"Laughed at me. Hung up on me," he groaned. "Good God! We've got to do +something—quick!"</p> + +<p>"Be in Albany in an hour," the pilot suggested. "What you going to do +there?" He believed, now. His expression of horror showed it.</p> + +<p>"See the governor. But, man, it's an hour wasted! We must stir up the +country—get the word to Washington—everywhere. It might be possible +to fight the things some way if we can mobilize State and National +resources quickly enough. Bill, Bart, what can we do?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he plane sped on through the night under control of her gyro-pilot as +the three men racked their brains for a solution of the problem. If a +hard-boiled newspaper man would not believe the story, who could?</p> + +<p>"I've got it!" Bart shouted suddenly. "Can either of you pound a +key—code, I mean?"</p> + +<p>"Sure, I can. Then what?" Petersen returned.</p> + +<p>"Fake an S. O. S. Don't you see? All broadcasting has to stop, and +every ship at sea, every air liner in this part of the country'll be +listening—standing by. Give 'em the story in code. Let 'em think +we're in a ship from the moon—captured by Lunarians who are here to +destroy the world with this weed of theirs—anything. Make it as weird +as possible. Most everyone'll think it's a hoax, but there are ten +thousand kids—amateurs—who'll be listening in. Somebody'll believe +it, and, believe me, there'll be some investigating in the +neighborhood of the growth in no time."</p> + +<p>"By George, I believe that'll do it!" Van exclaimed. "And the +broadcasters listen in for an S. O. S. themselves. Got to, you know, +so they know when to start up again. Some smart announcer will tell +the story—maybe even believe it. The trick will work, sure as +shooting!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he pilot glanced at his instruments and saw that the automatic +gyro-apparatus was functioning properly. Then he moved over to the +radio and threw the switch that put the key in circuit instead of the +microphone. Rapidly he ticked off the three dots, three dashes, and +again three dots that spelled the dread danger signal of the air. Over +and over he repeated the signal, and then he listened for results.</p> + +<p>"It worked!" he gloated, after a moment. "They're all signing off—the +broadcasters. The Navy Yard in Brooklyn gives me the go-ahead."</p> + +<p>He pounded out the absurd message with swift fingers, pausing +occasionally to ask a pertinent question of Van or Bart. At Van's +request he added a warning to all residents of New York State west of +the Hudson River and of northern New Jersey to flee their homes +without delay. He even asked that the message be relayed to the +governors of the two states, and that Governor Perkins of New York be +advised that they were on their way to Albany to discuss the +situation. But he balked at the story of the Lunarians, telling +instead the equally strange truth regarding the origin of the deadly +growth, and adding the names of Van and Bart to lend authenticity to +the tale.</p> + +<p>Then he signed off and switched the radio receiver to the loud speaker +before returning to the pilot's seat.</p> + +<p>Bart tuned in on the various broadcasters as they resumed their +programs, finally settling on WOR,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> Newark, whose announcer was +reading the strange message to his radio public with appropriate +comment. A crime and an outrage he called it, an affront to the +industry and to the public. An insult to the government of the United +States. But wait! A telephone call had just been received at the +station from the village of Sloatesburg. A reputable citizen of that +town had reported the red growth at the edge of the State road—huge +red earthworms wriggling across the concrete. Another call, and +another! The announcer's voice was rising hysterically.</p> + +<p>"It <i>did</i> work, Bart," Van exulted. "Now the hell starts popping."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_g.jpg" alt="G" width="33" height="40" /></div> +<p>overnor Perkins met them in person when they arrived at the Municipal +Airport in Albany. A great crowd had gathered in the shadows outside +the brilliance of the flood lights, and a police escort rushed them to +the governor's private car.</p> + +<p>"Here's where you go to the Bastille for socking that cop," Van +observed. His spirits had risen appreciably since that successful S. +O. S. call.</p> + +<p>But the governor was in a serious mood, as they made their way toward +the executive mansion through the milling crowds that lined the hilly +streets of the capital city of New York State. Proofs had not been +lacking of the truth of Bill Petersen's radio warning. Already the +spreading red death had covered a circle some eight miles in diameter, +covering farm lands and destroying the crops, blocking the roads and +trapping many on the streets and in their homes in nearby towns. More +than a hundred had lost their lives, and thousands were fleeing the +threatened area. The country was in an uproar.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," the governor said, when they had reached the privacy of +his chambers, "this is a serious matter, and no time must be lost in +dealing with it. Nevertheless, I want you, Mr. Vanderventer, to tell +your story of the thing to me and to the radio system of the United +States Secret Service. The President himself will be listening, as +will the chief executives of most of the states. Hold nothing back, as +the fate of our people is at stake."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_s.jpg" alt="S" width="26" height="40" /></div> +<p>o Van faced the microphone and related the history of his work in the +little laboratory in the Ramapo Mountains. He told of his interest in +the earth's satellite, and of his first unsuccessful experiments with +ultra-telescopes in the endeavor to explore its surface close at hand; +of the failure of a space-ship he had built; of the final discovery of +the ray, by means of which it was possible to transport solid objects +from the one body to the other. He told of the discovery of man-made +relics and of fossils; he told of the diamonds, and of the attack by +Dan Kelly which had resulted in the spreading of the seed of the +deadly moon weed. He even related the incident of the traffic +policeman, at which the governor smiled.</p> + +<p>"That has been reported," he said, "and you need have no fear on that +score.—The charges will be dropped. I now ask that you give us your +opinion as to the best method of combatting this new enemy. Have you +any ideas?"</p> + +<p>"I have not, sir," Van replied gloomily, "though I believe it can be +done only from the air. Possibly bombing, or a gas of some sort—I +don't know. It will take time, Mr. Governor."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and meanwhile the thing is overwhelming us at what rate?"</p> + +<p>"As nearly as I can estimate it, the growth is moving with a speed of +four or five miles an hour."</p> + +<p>"By morning you expect it will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> have traveled forty or fifty miles in +all directions?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid so."</p> + +<p>A sharp buzz from the instrument on the governor's desk interrupted +them. "The President," he whispered.</p> + +<p>"That is enough, Governor," came the husky tones of President Alford's +voice. "I shall communicate with Secretary Makely at once. All +available army bombing-planes will be rushed to the scene. You, sir, +will mobilize the militia, as will the governors of the other states. +Meanwhile, this young scientist is to report to the Bureau of +Scientific Research in Washington—to-night. Have him bring a supply +of these seeds with him."</p> + +<p>That was all. Governor Perkins offered no comment, but merely rose +from his seat to indicate that the discussion was ended. A solemn +silence reigned in the room.</p> + +<p>"Let's go!" exclaimed Bill Petersen suddenly, unawed by the presence +of the governor. "My ship's waiting, and we can stop off for a couple +of those pods and still make Washington in two hours. Come on!"</p> + +<p>Governor Perkins smiled. "Good luck, boys," he said, as they were +ushered from the room. "My car will return you to the airport. And +remember, the country will be watching you now, and expecting much +from you. Good-by."</p> + +<p>They were to recall his words in the dark days ahead.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_b.jpg" alt="B" width="34" height="40" /></div> +<p>efore they had reached Newburgh, they saw a dull red glow in the +skies that told them the news broadcast to which they had been +listening had not exaggerated. The red growth was luminous in +darkness. Off there to the south-west, it was as if a vast forest fire +were lighting the heavens. No wonder the panics and rioting were +getting out of control of the police!</p> + +<p>Coming up over Bear Mountain, they caught their first glimpse of the +sea of fire that was the red death by night. Like a vast bed of +glowing embers it covered the countryside, extending eastward to +Haverstraw where it was temporarily halted by the broad Hudson. It was +a shimmering, undulating mass of living, luminous things, eating their +horrible way through all organic matter that stood in their path. +Writhing, squirming, all-absorbing monsters that sent out an advance +guard of independent snake-like tendrils to capture and hold for the +lagging mother-plants whatever of live stock and humanity they were +able to find.</p> + +<p>"Think they'll get over the river, Van?" Bart asked.</p> + +<p>"Sure they will. Every fugitive who had a narrow escape after being in +contact with the things is a potential carrier of the seed. I found +several of them sticking to my clothing after we got away. I picked a +couple off your coat, but didn't tell you."</p> + +<p>"Lord! What did you do with them?"</p> + +<p>"Put them in the ash receiver in my car—like a fool. Wouldn't have to +go down for more if I'd kept them."</p> + +<p>"Well, it can't be helped now. We'll have a job getting some down +there now, too."</p> + +<p>"I'll say so." Van lapsed into gloomy silence.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>hey were over the landing field above Tomkins Cove, and Bill turned +on the siren whose raucous shriek operated the mechanism of the +floodlight switches by sound vibrations. The field sprang into instant +illumination, and they circled it once before swooping to a landing. +They were but a mile from the advancing terror.</p> + +<p>The field was deserted, and the three men started off immediately in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> +the direction of the oncoming weed.</p> + +<p>"We'll have to make it snappy," Van grunted. "We've got about twelve +minutes to get the pods and get back to the ship. The damn things'll +be here by that time."</p> + +<p>They scrambled over fences and pushed through thickets. The lighted +windows of a deserted farmhouse were directly ahead, and they ran +through the open gate and across the fields. Ever, the glow of the +weed grew brighter. A terrified horse galloped wildly past them and +crashed into the fence, whinnying piteously as it went down with a +broken leg. They could see the red rim of the advancing horror just +beyond the road.</p> + +<p>One of the detached tendrils slithered past, each glowing coil +distinctly visible.</p> + +<p>"Lucky the things can't see!" Bart shuddered.</p> + +<p>"Yeah," said Van. "Have to dodge 'em to get in close enough to one of +the plants. Keep your eyes peeled now, you fellows, in case one of us +gets caught."</p> + +<p>A terrific explosion rocked the ground. They had paid no heed to the +roaring of motors overhead. The bombers were on the job! Shooting +skyward, a column of flame not a hundred yards from them showed where +the high explosive had landed in the red mass. Then, slimy wriggling +things rained all about them, fragments of the red weed that still +squirmed and crawled and clung. Bill Petersen yelled and clutched at +his neck where one of the things had taken hold.</p> + +<p>Another warning whistle of a falling bomb. Crash! More of the horror +raining down and splattering as it fell. Whistle—crash! A huge blob +of quivering, luminous jelly fell before them—a portion of one of the +mother-plants. Crash! Crash!</p> + +<p>"Run!" Van shouted. "Run for the plane. We'll never make it now. Damn +those bombers, anyway!"</p> + +<p>All along the advancing front, the bombs were bursting, shattering the +air with their detonations and scattering the glowing red stems and +tendrils in all directions. The din was appalling, and the increasing +brightness of the crimson glow added to the horror of the situation. +Stumbling and cursing, they ran for the plane.</p> + +<p>"Fools! Fools!" Bill was shouting. "Can't they see the field and the +plane? Why in the devil are they dropping them so near?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>hen Bart was down, clawing at a three-foot length of red tendril that +had fallen on him and borne him to the earth.</p> + +<p>"Bart! Bart!" Van turned back and was tearing at the thing with +fingers that were slippery with the sap that oozed from its torn skin. +Monstrous earthworms! Cut them apart and each portion lived on, took +on new vigor. And these vile things could sting like a jellyfish! +Where each sucker touched the skin a burning sore remained.</p> + +<p>Bill helped them break away from the thing, and all three fought on +toward the lights of the landing field. Only a short way off now; it +seemed they would never reach it. The bombers were dropping their +missiles with unceasing regularity, and the red death only spread the +faster.</p> + +<p>When they scrambled into the cabin of the plane, the red wall of +creeping horror was almost upon them. Advancing speedily out from the +red-lit darkness, it seemed to halt momentarily, when it emerged into +the brilliance of the great arc-lights which illuminated the field. +Then, more slowly and with seemingly purposeful deliberation, the +wriggling feelers reached out from the mass and bore down upon them. +Bill slammed the door and latched it, then fumbled frantically with +the starter switch. A most welcome<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> sound was the answering roar of +the motor.</p> + +<p>The pilot yanked his ship into the air, taking off with the wind +rather than running the risk of remaining on the ground long enough to +taxi around and head into it. The plane acted like a frightened bird +as Bill struggled with the controls, darting this way and that, and +once missing a crash by inches as the tail was lifted by the +treacherous ground wind. Then they were clear, and slowly gained +altitude in a steep climb.</p> + +<p>"Whew!" Van exclaimed, mopping his red-splattered forehead with his +handkerchief. "That was a narrow squeak, boys. And we haven't got the +seeds yet—unless we can find a few on our clothing."</p> + +<p>"Who said so?" Bart gloated. "Look at this."</p> + +<p>He opened his clenched fist and disclosed one of the pods, unbroken +and gleaming horribly scarlet in the dim light of the cabin. Bill +heaved a sigh of relief as he banked the ship and swung around toward +the south. He had dreaded another landing near the sea of moon weed. +Van chortled over their good fortune as he examined the mysterious +pod. One good thing the bombers had done, anyway! Blew one of the +things into his friend's hands.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_b.jpg" alt="B" width="34" height="40" /></div> +<p>art and the young pilot found themselves very much out of the picture +when they reported with Van at the Research Building in Washington. +The Government had no use for them in this emergency: it was the +scientist they wanted, and he was immediately rushed into conference +with the heads of the Bureau. His two friends were left to shift for +themselves, and they joined the crowds in the street.</p> + +<p>The name of Carl Vanderventer was on everyone's tongue. Cursing and +reviling him, they were, for the hare-brained experiment which had +been the cause of the terrible disaster. Fools! Bart seethed with rage +and nearly came to blows with a number of vociferous agitators who +were advocating a necktie-party. Why hadn't the officials published +the entire story as Van told it over the Secret Service radio? There +was no mention of Dan Kelly in the broadcast news, nor of the fact +that the police were searching for him in every city and town in the +country. Another instance of the results of secrecy in governmental +activities!</p> + +<p>"We'd better find ourselves a room and turn in," Bart growled. "Let's +get out of this mob before I slam somebody."</p> + +<p>Bill Petersen was only too willing. He was suddenly very tired.</p> + +<p>In the Willard Hotel they were assigned to an excellent room, and Bart +insisted on switching on the broadcasts and listening to the news. Far +into the night he sat by the loud-speaker, or paced the floor as an +exceptionally calamitous happening was reported. But Bill slept +through it all.</p> + +<p>The army bombers had been recalled. Their efforts had worked more harm +than good. The invincible moon weed now had crossed the Hudson River +at Nyack and Piermont. Tarrytown was overrun, and many of the +inhabitants had lost their lives either in the maws of the insatiable +monsters or in the panics and rioting that accompanied the evacuation +of the town.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_n.jpg" alt="N" width="39" height="40" /></div> +<p>ew Jersey was covered as far south as New Brunswick, and west to +Phillipsburg and Belvidere. At Mauch Chunk the contents of twenty oil +tanks had been diverted to the Delaware River, and the floating oil +film was proving at least a temporary protection to a considerable +portion of the state of Pennsylvania. In New York State<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> the growth +had buried hill and valley, town and village, as far as Monticello, +and, along the Hudson, extended as far north as Kingston. At +Poughkeepsie, on the opposite side of the river, frantic householders +had armed themselves with rifles and shotguns, and were killing off +all refugees who attempted to land from boats at that point. But the +militia was on guard at the bridges, assuring safe crossing to the +thousands who fled the red death over these routes. There was no +keeping the seed of the moon weed from finding its way east.</p> + +<p>At some points fire had been used with considerable success as a +barrier, hundreds of acres of forest lands being destroyed in the +endeavor to stem the crimson tide. But, after the ashes were cool, +germination would recur, and the weed would continue on its triumphant +way. Acid sprays and poison-gas of various kinds had been tried +without appreciable effect. The casualty estimates already ran into +the tens of thousands; rumor had it that nearly one hundred thousand +had lost their lives in the city of Newark alone. There was no way in +which the figures could be checked while everything was in a state of +confusion.</p> + +<p>Communication lines were broken, roads blocked, gas and electric +supply systems paralyzed and the railroads helpless. Trains could not +be driven through the glutinous, wriggling mass that piled high on the +tracks. Only the radio and the air lines were operative in the +stricken area, and even these were of little value to the unfortunates +who, in many cases, were surrounded and cut off from all hope of +succor.</p> + +<p>At four in the morning, with aching heart and reeling brain, Bart +threw himself on the bed without undressing and fell into the troubled +sleep of exhaustion and despair.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he next day brought no encouragement, though it was reported that the +growth developed with less rapidity after sunrise than it had during +the night. Bart endeavored to get Van on the telephone, but was curtly +informed by the operator at the Research Building that no incoming +calls could be transferred to the laboratory where he was working. +Knowing his friend, he pictured him as working feverishly with the +Government engineers and giving no thought to sleep or food. He'd kill +himself, sure! But such a death, even, was preferable to the red one +of the moon weed.</p> + +<p>The Canadians and Mexicans had been quick to protect their borders and +forbid the landing of any American aircraft or the passage of trains +and automobiles. But the seed had reached Europe, one of the +twelve-hour night air-liners having carried a thousand refugees who +had sufficient foresight and the means to engage passage. It was a +world catastrophe they faced!</p> + +<p>By mid-afternoon the streets of Washington were almost deserted. It +was less than twenty-four hours since the first moon seed took root, +and already the crimson growth had progressed nearly a hundred miles +southward from the point of origin! Another twenty or thirty hours and +it would reach the capital city—unless Van and those engineers over +in the Research Building discovered something; a miracle.</p> + +<p>Bart tried the telephone once more and was overjoyed when the +operator, all apologies now, informed him that Van had been trying to +reach him for several hours.</p> + +<p>"Listen, old man," his friend's voice came over the wire: "I've been +worried as the devil not knowing where you were. I want you and Bill +to stick around where I can get you at any time. I may need you. Where +are you staying?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The Willard. Have you doped out something?" Bart answered in quick +excitement.</p> + +<p>"Maybe. Can't let anything out yet—not till we've tested it +thoroughly. But I can tell you that a hundred factories are already +working on machines we've devised. By good luck it only means minor +changes to an apparatus that is on the market in large quantity."</p> + +<p>"Great stuff. The city's nearly emptied itself, you know, and, boy, +how they've been razzing you over the radio and in the papers—howling +for your hide, the whole country."</p> + +<p>"I know." Van's voice was calm, but Bart sensed in it something of a +cold fury that was new to him in his friend. The young scientist was +bitterly resentful of the attitude of the public.</p> + +<p>"Can we see you, Van?"</p> + +<p>"No, nor call me either. Better hang around the hotel and wait for a +call from me. So long now, Bart. I've got to get busy."</p> + +<p>"So long."</p> + +<p>Bart gazed solemnly at Bill Petersen, who had been listening +abstractedly to the one-sided conversation. Bill had given up hope and +was resigned to the inevitable.</p> + +<p>"Says he may need us, Bill," said Bart.</p> + +<p>"Yeah? Well, we'll be ready for anything he wants us to do. It's no +use though—anything."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean—no use? You never saw Van licked yet, did you?"</p> + +<p>"Sure I did. By his super-telescopes and the rocket ship."</p> + +<p>"But this is different." Bart was a staunch defender of his friend. He +glared at Bill for a moment and then switched on the news broadcast +which he knew he detested.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he progress of the moon weed continued unabated. In the city of New +York a million souls were reported as having lost their lives, and +this in spite of the difficulty experienced by the uncanny moon weed +in obtaining a foothold in Manhattan. It had been thought that the +asphalt and concrete would prove an effective barrier, and so they did +for a time. But, with the seed active in the parks and along the water +fronts, it was not long before the powerful roots of the greedy plants +worked their way underneath, ripping up pavements and wriggling into +cellars as they progressed. The city was a mass of wreckage and a +maelstrom of fighting, dying humanity.</p> + +<p>Whole regiments of the National Guard were wiped out as they fought +off the weed with ax and bayonet, in the effort to provide time for +the refugees to clear from their homes in certain localities. All +transportation facilities to the south and west were taxed to the +utmost. There was fighting and killing for the possession of +automobiles and planes and for room in trains and buses. Air-line +terminals and railroad stations were the scenes of dreadful massacres +as the police and military guards fought off the crazed and desperate +creatures who attacked them en masse. And still the news announcers +prated of the responsibility of one Carl Vanderventer.</p> + +<p>The telephone bell rang, and Bart answered it in relief. At last they +were to see some action! But no, it was merely the desk clerk, +notifying him that all employees were leaving the hotel and that they +would be left to shift for themselves. Yes, there was plenty of food +in the kitchens; they were welcome to it. And a permanent telephone +connection would be made to their room. The frightened clerk wished +them luck.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i.jpg" alt="I" width="16" height="40" /></div> +<p>n endless monotone, the voice of the news announcer droned on. +Binghamton and Elmira, Albany and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> Schenectady, New Haven, +Philadelphia, Allentown—all had succumbed. The casualty estimates now +ran into the millions. The mist, the red mist that rose from the +steaming weed, was drifting westward and spreading the seed with ever +increasing rapidity. For now the monstrous growth from out the sky was +adapting itself to its environment; providing the seed with feathery +tufts that permitted the winds to carry them far and wide like the +seed of a dandelion.</p> + +<p>"Turn off that damn thing!" Bill shouted. And he jumped to his feet, +his eyes glinting strangely in the twilight gloom of the room. Bill +was close to the breaking point.</p> + +<p>"Guess you're right," Bart mumbled. "Not good for either of us to +listen to that stuff." He switched off the receiver, and they sat in +silence as darkness fell over the city.</p> + +<p>Bill shivered and felt for the button of the electric light which he +pressed with a trembling finger. They blinked in the sudden +illumination, but it cheered them somewhat. It was not good to sit in +the darkness and think. Besides, they knew that the turbine generators +of Potomac Edison were still running. Some brave souls were sticking +to their jobs—for a time, at least.</p> + +<p>"God!" Bill suddenly groaned, after an endless time of dead silence. +"My sister! Lives in Pittsburgh, you know. Wonder if she and the kids +got away. It won't be long before the damn stuff gets there."</p> + +<p>Bart thanked his lucky stars that he had no family ties. "Oh, they've +had plenty of warning," he tried to console Bill. "Hours, you know; +and the westbound lines are in good shape from there. I wouldn't worry +about them if I were you."</p> + +<p>There was utter silence once more. Even the customary street noises +was lacking. Both men jumped nervously when the shrill siren of a +police motorcycle sounded in the distance. Bart thought grimly of his +fracas with the officer who had tried to arrest Van. How long ago that +seemed, and how inconsequential an incident!</p> + +<p>Their windows faced north, and by midnight they could make out the red +glow of the moon weed, that awful band of flickering crimson that +painted the horizon the color of blood. The telephone clamored for +attention and Bill stifled a hysterical sob as the terrifying sound +broke the eery stillness.</p> + +<p>Van was on the way to get them! He had a Government car and they were +to go to Arlington for Bill's plane. Then what? He refused to commit +himself: they must follow him blindly. Anything was better than this +inactivity, though. Bart shouted with glee.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_w2.jpg" alt="W" width="77" height="40" /></div> +<p>e're going north," Van replied shortly, in answer to Bart's question +when they entered the official car in front of the hotel, "after Dan +Kelly."</p> + +<p>"After Dan Kelly? Got a line on him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Secret Service reports him in Toronto. The Canucks are after him +now, but, by God, I'm going to get him myself!"</p> + +<p>Van was haggard and wan, his eyes gleaming with a fanatical light. The +strain had done something to him—something Bart didn't like at all. +This was a different Van from the man who had entered his office two +days previously. Unshaven and unkempt, he looked and talked like a +drunken man on the verge of delirium tremens.</p> + +<p>"What's the idea, Van?" he asked gently.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to get him. I tell you. The scum! It's his fault the whole +world's against me. I'll get him, Bart; I'll kill him with my bare +hands!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span></p> + +<p>So that was it! The combination of gruelling labor in the effort to +save mankind from the dread moon weed, and bitter censure from the +very people he was trying to save, had been too much for Van. He had +developed a fixation, unreasoning and murderous; he'd get even with +the man who had caused the trouble. And nothing could deter him from +his purpose: Bart could see that. Might as well humor him and help +him. It made little difference, anyway, with the red doom spreading at +its present rate. They'd all be victims in a few days.</p> + +<p>They were speeding through the streets of Washington at a break-neck +rate. Van bent over the wheel, and like a demented man glued his +wildly staring eyes to the road.</p> + +<p>"What about your work?" Bart asked, after a while. "Has anything been +accomplished?"</p> + +<p>"Yes and no. They'll be ready to shoot in a few hours. Don't know +whether it'll be a complete success or not. But I sneaked away anyhow. +This other thing's more important to me right now."</p> + +<p>"What's the dope? Can you tell us now?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. I've got one of the machines in the car and I'll explain when +we're on our way to Canada."</p> + +<p>This wasn't like Van. Never secretive and always in good humor, he was +treating his friends like annoying strangers.</p> + +<p>"You can't land in Canada," Bill ventured, as they pulled up at the +gate of the airport.</p> + +<p>"Like hell I can't! You watch my smoke, and let any bloody Canuck up +there try and stop me!"</p> + +<p>He was lifting a small black case from the luggage carrier of the car +as he replied. Bart silenced the airman with a look.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_w.jpg" alt="W" width="48" height="40" /></div> +<p>hen they had taken off and were well under way, Van opened his black +case and set a vacuum-tube apparatus in operation. They were nearing +the fringe of the glowing sea of red that was the vast blanket of moon +weed. It now extended to within a few miles of Baltimore and stretched +northward as far as the eye could see.</p> + +<p>"It was a cinch," Van was explaining. "When I first saw that the +growth slowed up under the arc-lights at Tomkins Cove it gave me the +glimmering of an idea. Then, on the following day, when we learned +that the weed spread more slowly in sunlight, I was convinced. The +stuff is dormant on the moon, you know."</p> + +<p>"Why?" Bart asked breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"Because there is no atmosphere surrounding the moon, and the sun's +rays are not filtered before they reach its surface as they are here. +The invisible rays, ultra-violet and such, are present in full +proportion. And the moon weed can not flourish when subjected to light +of the higher frequencies. It died out when the moon lost its +atmosphere, and only revived on being brought to earth—probably a +million times more prolific in our dense and damp atmosphere and rich +soil. The thing's a cinch to dope out."</p> + +<p>"Yeah!" Bart commented drily. Van was now talking and he could have +bitten off his tongue for interrupting him.</p> + +<p>This machine of Van's was a generator of invisible light in the +ultra-indigo range, Van explained. You couldn't see its powerful beam, +but they had proved in the laboratory that it was certain doom to the +moon weed. They had grown the stuff from seed in steel cages, and +played with it until they were all satisfied. Now would come the final +test. Ten thousand planes were being equipped with the new generator, +which was merely an adaptation of standard directional television +transmitters, and to-night these would start out to fight the weed. It +was a cinch!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_b.jpg" alt="B" width="34" height="40" /></div> +<p>eneath them the red cauldron seethed and tossed as they sped +northward; the crimson blanket of death that was steadily covering the +country.</p> + +<p>"Drop to a thousand feet, Bill," the scientist called, "and then watch +below. But, don't slow down. We've got to get to Toronto!"</p> + +<p>The ship nosed down and soon leveled off at the prescribed altitude. +Van's vacuum tubes lighted to full brilliancy, and a black spot +appeared on the glowing surface just beneath them, a black spot that +extended into a streak as the plane continued on its way. They were +cutting a swath of blackness fifty feet wide through the heart of the +growth!</p> + +<p>"See that!" Van gloated. "It's killing them by millions! And the best +of it is the effect it leaves behind. The soil is permeated to a depth +of several inches and the stuff will not germinate in the spots where +the ray has contracted. Oh, it works to perfection!"</p> + +<p>Bill was exuberant; his hopes revived miraculously. He gave his motor +the gun and got out of it every last revolution that it could turn up. +He must get Van to Canada! Not such a bad idea, this going after +Kelly, at that!</p> + +<p>Bart was voluble in his praise, then caught himself short as he +remembered that he had doubted Van but a half hour previously: doubted +him and despaired. Now Van, lapsing into gloomy silence after his +triumph, was again thinking of nothing but revenge. The getting of Dan +Kelly meant more to him now than the extinction of the moon weed.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_w.jpg" alt="W" width="48" height="40" /></div> +<p>hen they landed at the Toronto Airport they were welcomed with open +arms instead of with rifle fire as Bill had anticipated. The news had +gone forth. Already a thousand planes flying over the United States +were driving back the sea of destruction. The invisible ray was a +success, and the name of Carl Vanderventer was now a thing with which +to conjure, rather than one on which to heap imprecation and insult. +Van grimaced wryly at this last bit of news.</p> + +<p>Danny Kelly? No one at the airport had ever heard of him. Van +telephoned in to the city; to Police Headquarters. Yes, they had +apprehended the fugitive American at the request of Washington, but he +was a slippery customer. He had escaped. Van raged and fumed.</p> + +<p>Of what use were the congratulations of the night flyers who still +loitered in the hangar; of what consolation the radio reports of the +success of the ultra-indigo ray in the States and in Europe? He had +come after his man and he'd failed. Defeat was a bitter pill.</p> + +<p>The news broadcasts from the States were jubilant and became +increasingly so during the night. The moon weed was being driven back +on a wide front and by morning would be entirely surrounded. There +would be no further loss of life and little more destruction of +property. Carl Vanderventer had saved the day! Van grunted his disgust +whenever an announcer mentioned his name.</p> + +<p>When daylight came they prepared to return. Little use there was of +searching the highways and byways of Canada for the fugitive. He'd +simply have to wait until the Canadians were able to get a line on Dan +Kelly again.—It was maddening! But Bart was glad. The light of reason +was returning to his friend's eyes in the reaction.</p> + +<p>Then there was a telephone call from the city for Van. Police +Headquarters wanted him. The fanatical glint returned to his eyes when +he ran for the hangar to answer the call. Perhaps they had already +captured Kelly! And he had an order<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> in his pocket for the man's +return to the States. He'd been made a deputy, and with Kelly released +to him anything might happen. Something would happen.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_b.jpg" alt="B" width="34" height="40" /></div> +<p>ut the police were reporting the unexplainable reappearance of the +moon weed just outside the city limits at a point near Cookesville. +Would Mr. Vanderventer be so kind as to fly over there and destroy it +before any lives were lost? He would.</p> + +<p>The growth had covered an acre of ground by the time they reached the +spot designated. But it was the work of only a minute to blast it out +of existence with the ultra-indigo ray. Van surveyed the blackened and +shriveled mass with satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"Let's land and take a look at it," he said.</p> + +<p>Bart thought he saw a look of exultation flash over his careworn +features.</p> + +<p>Soon they were wading deep in the blackened remains of the moon weed. +The stems and tendrils snapped and crumbled into powder as they passed +through. The stuff was done for, no question of that.</p> + +<p>Bill Petersen yelled and pointed a shaking forefinger at an object +that lay in the blackened ruin. It was a human skeleton, the bones +bare of flesh and gleaming white in the light of the early morning +sun. Van was on his knees, quick as a flash, feeling around the +grewsome thing: pawing at the shreds of clothing that remained.</p> + +<p>Then he was on his feet, his face shining with unholy glee. In his +hands were a half dozen small, smooth objects which looked like +pebbles. The diamonds!</p> + +<p>"I thought so!" he exclaimed. "It's Kelly. Only way the seed could +have gotten up here. He had some on his clothes and didn't know it. I +couldn't get him myself—but anyway I'm satisfied."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>e staggered and would have fallen, had not Bart caught him in his +arms. Poor old Van! Nearly killed him, this thing had, but he'd be +himself again, after it was all over. No wonder he'd gone out of his +head with the horror of it, and the blame that had been so cruelly +laid on him! No wonder he'd become obsessed with this idea of getting +square with Dan Kelly! But now he was content: sleeping like a babe in +Bart's arms.</p> + +<p>Tenderly they carried him to the plane and laid him out on the +cushions in back. They'd let him sleep as long as he could; return him +to Washington where he'd receive his just dues in recognition for his +services. Then would follow the work of reconstruction and +rehabilitation. Van would glory in that.</p> + +<p>Bart regarded his sleeping friend thoughtfully as they winged their +swift way toward the American border. The harsh lines that had showed +in his face during the past few hours were smoothed away and in their +place was an expression of deep contentment. He was at peace with the +world once more. Good old Van.</p> + +<p>What a difference there would be when he awakened to full realization +of the changed order of things! What satisfaction and relief!</p> + +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/image_011.jpg" width="500" height="109" alt="Advertisement" title="" /> +</div> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="The_Port_of_Missing_Planes" id="The_Port_of_Missing_Planes"></a>The Port of Missing Planes</h2> + +<h3><i>By Captain S. P. Meek</i></h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/image_012.jpg" width="500" height="479" alt=""That portion of the wall has gone back in time +exactly three seconds," he announced." title="" /> +<span class="caption">"That portion of the wall has gone back in time +exactly three seconds," he announced.</span> +</div> +<p> </p> + +<div class="sidenote">In the underground caverns of the Selom, Dr. Bird once +again locks wills with the subversive genius, Saranoff.</div> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_s1.jpg" alt="S" width="32" height="50" /></div> +<p>o that's the "Port of Missing Planes," mused Dick Purdy as he looked +down over the side of his cockpit. "It looks wild and desolate all +right, but at that I can't fancy a bus cracking up here and not being +found pronto. Gosh, Wilder cracked in the wildest part of Arizona and +he was found in a week."</p> + +<p>The mail plane droned monotonously on through perfect flying weather. +Purdy continued to study the ground. Recently transferred from a +western run, he was getting his first glimpse of that section of ill +repute. Below him stretched a desolate, almost uninhabited stretch of +country. By looking back he could see Bellefonte a few miles behind +him, but Philipsburg, the next spot marked on his map, was not yet +visible. Twelve hundred feet below him ran a silver line of water +which his map told him was Little Moshannon Run. As<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> he watched he +suddenly realized that the ground was not slipping by under him as +rapidly as it should. He glanced at his air-speed meter.</p> + +<p>"What the dickens?" he cried in surprise. For an hour his speed had +remained almost constant at one hundred miles an hour. Without +apparent cause it had dropped to forty, less than flying speed. He +realized that he was falling. A glance at his altimeter confirmed the +impression. The needle had dropped four hundred feet and was slowly +moving toward sea-level.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_w.jpg" alt="W" width="48" height="40" /></div> +<p>ith an exclamation of alarm, Purdy advanced his throttle until the +three motors of his plane roared at full capacity. For a moment his +air-speed picked up, but the gain was only momentary. As he watched, +the meter dropped to zero, although the propellers still whirled at +top speed. His altimeter showed that he was gradually losing +elevation.</p> + +<p>He stood up and looked over the side of his plane. The ground below +him was stationary as far as forward progress was concerned, but it +was slowly rising to meet him. He fumbled at the release ring of his +parachute but another glance at the ground made him hesitate. It was +not more than three hundred feet below him.</p> + +<p>"I must be dreaming!" he cried. The ground was no longer stationary. +For some unexplained reason he was going backward. The motors were +still roaring at top speed. Purdy dropped back into his seat in the +cockpit. With his ailerons set for maximum lift he coaxed every +possible revolution from his laboring motors. For several minutes he +strained at the controls before he cast a quick glance over the side. +His backward speed had accelerated and the ground was less than fifty +feet below him. It was too close for a parachute jump.</p> + +<p>"As slow as I'm falling, I won't crack much, anyway," he consoled +himself. He reached for his switch and the roar of the motors died +away in silence. The plane gave a sickening lurch backwards and down +for an instant. Purdy again leaned over the side. He was no longer +going either forward or back but was sinking slowly down. He looked at +the ground directly under him. A cry of horror came from his lips. He +sat back mopping his brow. Another glance over the side brought an +expression of terror to his white face and he reached for the heavy +automatic pistol which hung by the side of the control seat.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_h1.jpg" alt="H" width="54" height="40" /></div> +<p>e cleared Bellefonte at nine in the morning, Dr. Bird" said +Inspector Dolan of the Post Office Department, "and headed toward +Philipsburg. He never arrived. By ten we were alarmed and by eleven we +had planes out searching for him. They reported nothing. He must have +come to grief within a rather restricted area, so we sent search +parties out at once. That was two weeks ago yesterday. No trace of +either him or his plane has been found."</p> + +<p>"The flying conditions were good?"</p> + +<p>"Perfect. Also, Purdy is above suspicion. He has been flying the mail +on the western runs for three years. This is his first accident. He +was carrying nothing of unusual value."</p> + +<p>"Are there any local conditions unfavorable to flying?"</p> + +<p>"None at all. It is much uninhabited country, but there is no reason +why it shouldn't be safe country to fly over."</p> + +<p>"There are some damnably unfavorable local conditions, Doctor, +although I can't tell you what they are," broke in Operative Carnes of +the United States Secret Service. "Dick Purdy was rather more than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> an +acquaintance of mine. After he was lost I looked into the record of +that section a little. It is known among aviators as 'The Port of +Missing Planes.'"</p> + +<p>"How did it get a name like that?"</p> + +<p>"From the number of unexplained and unexplainable accidents that +happen right there. Dugan of the air mail, was lost there last May. +They found the mailbags where he had dropped them before he crashed, +but they never found a trace of him or his plane."</p> + +<p>"They didn't?"</p> + +<p>"Not a trace. The same thing happened when Mayfield cracked in August. +He made a jump and broke his neck in landing. He was found all right, +but his ship wasn't. Trierson of the army, dropped there and <i>his</i> +plane was never found. Neither was he. He was seen to go down in a +forced landing. He was flying last in a formation. As soon as he went +down the other ships turned back and circled over the ground where he +should have fallen. They saw nothing. Search parties found no trace of +either him or his ship. Those are the best known cases, but I have +heard rumors of several private ships which have gone down in that +district and have never been seen or heard of since."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_d.jpg" alt="D" width="36" height="40" /></div> +<p>r. Bird sat forward with a glitter in his piercing black eyes. Carnes +gave a grunt of satisfaction. He knew the meaning of that glitter. The +Doctor's interest had been fully aroused.</p> + +<p>"Inspector Dolan," said Dr. Bird sharply, "why didn't you tell me +those things?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Doctor, we don't like to talk about mail wrecks any more than +we have to. Of course, the loss of so many planes in one area is +merely a coincidence. Probably the wrecked planes were stolen as +souvenirs. Such things happen, you know."</p> + +<p>"Fiddlesticks!" said Dr. Bird sharply. He raised one long slender hand +with beautifully modeled tapering fingers and threw back his unruly +mop of black hair. His square, almost rugged jaw, protruded and the +glitter in his eyes grew in intensity. "No souvenir hunting vandals +could cart away whole planes without leaving a trace. In that case, +what became of the bodies? No, Inspector, this has gone beyond the +range of coincidence. There is some mystery here and it needs looking +into. Fortunately, my work at the Bureau of Standards is in such shape +that I can safely leave it. I intend to devote my entire time to +clearing this matter up. The ramifications may run deeper than either +you or I suspect. Please have all of your records dealing with plane +disappearances or wrecks in that locality sent to my office at once."</p> + +<p>The Post Office inspector stiffened.</p> + +<p>"Of course, Dr. Bird," he said formally, "we are very glad to hear any +suggestion that you may care to offer. When it comes, however, to a +matter of surrendering control of a Post Office matter to the +Department of Commerce or to the Treasury Department, I doubt the +propriety. Our records are confidential ones and are not open to +everyone who is curious. I will inform the proper authorities of your +desire to help, but I doubt seriously if they will avail themselves of +your offer."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_d.jpg" alt="D" width="36" height="40" /></div> +<p>r. Bird's black eyes shot fire. "Idiot!" he said. "If you're a +specimen of the Post Office Department, I'll have the entire case +taken out of your hands. Do you mean to cooperate with me or not?"</p> + +<p>"I fail to see what interest the Bureau of Standards can have in the +affair."</p> + +<p>"The Bureau isn't mixed up in it; Dr. Bird is. If necessary, I will go +direct to the President. Oh, thunder!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> What's the use of talking to +you? Who's your chief?"</p> + +<p>"Chief Inspector Watkins is in charge of all investigations."</p> + +<p>"Carnes, get him on the telephone. Tell him we are taking charge of +the investigation. If he balks, have Bolton go over his head. Then get +the chief of the Air Corps on the wire and arrange for an army plane +to-morrow. There is something more than a mail robbery back of this or +I'm badly fooled."</p> + +<p>"Do you suspect—"</p> + +<p>"I suspect nothing and no one, Carnes—yet! I'll get a few instruments +together to take with us to-morrow. We'll fly over that section until +something happens if it takes us until this time next year."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p> three-seated scout plane rose from Langley Field at eight the next +morning. Captain Garland was at the controls. In the rear cockpit sat +Dr. Bird and Carnes. Inside his flying helmet, the doctor wore a pair +of headphones which were connected to a box on the floor before him. +Carnes carried no apparatus but his hand rested carelessly on the grip +of a machine-gun.</p> + +<p>The plane cleared Bellefonte at nine-thirty and bore east toward +Philipsburg. Captain Garland kept his eyes on his instrument board and +on a map. Less than six hundred feet above the ground, he was +following the air-mail route as exactly as possible. Overhead a mail +plane winged its way east, three thousand feet above them.</p> + +<p>Fifteen minutes brought them to Philipsburg. Captain Garland shot his +plane upward a few hundred feet.</p> + +<p>"Turn back, Captain," said Dr. Bird into the speaking tube. "Retrace +your course a quarter of a mile farther north. At Bellefonte, turn +back and go over the same ground another quarter of a mile north. Keep +flying back and forth, working your way north, until I tell you to +stop."</p> + +<p>The plane swung around and headed back toward Bellefonte.</p> + +<p>"Of course, we can't tell exactly what route he followed," said the +doctor to Carnes, "but he was new on this run and it is safe to assume +that he didn't stray far. We'll quarter the whole area before we +stop."</p> + +<p>Carnes watched the ground below them carefully. There was nothing +about it to distinguish it from any other wooded mountainous country +and his interest waned. He glanced aloft. The mail plane had +disappeared in the distance and the sky was clear of aircraft. He +turned again to the ground. It looked closer than it had before. He +turned and looked at the duplicate altimeter. The plane had lost +nearly a hundred feet elevation.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_t1.jpg" alt="T" width="49" height="40" /></div> +<p>here's something wrong about this plane, Doctor," came Captain +Garland's voice through the speaking tube. "It doesn't behave like it +should."</p> + +<p>"I guess we've found what we were looking for, Carnes," said Dr. Bird +grimly. "What seems to be the matter, Captain?"</p> + +<p>"Blessed if I know," was the answer. "It feels like a drag of some +sort, like an automobile going through heavy sand. We're slowing down, +though I am giving her all the gun I've got!"</p> + +<p>"Cut your motor!" said the doctor shortly. He bent over the duplicate +instrument board as the roar of the motor died away. Carnes rose and +looked over the side.</p> + +<p>"Look, Doctor!" he cried in a strained voice. Directly below them +yawned a hole sixty feet in diameter and extending down into the +bowels of the earth. The plane hovered over the hole for a moment and +then slowly descended into it.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" cried the detective.</p> + +<p>"It's the secret of the Port of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> Missing Planes," replied Dr. Bird. +"Throw off your parachute. Keep your gun and light handy but don't +fire unless I do first. The same holds good for you, Captain."</p> + +<p>The plane sunk until it was fifty feet below the level of the ground. +Carnes looked up. Gradually the circle of sky became blurred and hazy +as though the air were heavy with dust. The rasp of Dr. Bird's +flashlight key aroused him and he hastily wound his own. The haze +above them grew thicker. Suddenly the light died and then came +darkness, a darkness so thick and absolute that it bore down on them +like a weight. Dr. Bird's light stabbed a path through it.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>hey were in a tunnel or tube reaching into the ground. The sides were +smooth and polished, as though water worn. The plane sank deeper and +deeper into the earth. Suddenly Dr. Bird's light went out.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Doctor?" asked Carnes, "did your light fail?"</p> + +<p>"No," came a strained voice. "I turned it out."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. Light yours."</p> + +<p>Carnes reached into his pocket. Dr. Bird could hear his breath come in +panting sobs as though he were exerting his whole strength.</p> + +<p>"I can't do it, Doctor," he gasped. "I want to, but some power greater +than my will prevents me."</p> + +<p>"Are you affected, Captain?" asked the Doctor.</p> + +<p>"I—can't—move," came in muffled accents from the front cockpit.</p> + +<p>"Some power beyond my knowledge has us in its grasp," said the doctor. +"All we can do is sit tight and see what happens. We are no longer +falling at any rate."</p> + +<p>From the forward cockpit came a rustling sound. There was a slight jar +in the ship, and it gave as though a weight had been applied to one +side.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing, Garland?" asked the doctor sharply.</p> + +<p>There was no reply. Again came the rustling sound. The ship gave a +sudden lurch as though a weight had left the side. Carnes suddenly +spoke.</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Doctor," he said. "I'm going over the side."</p> + +<p>"I have been fighting it but I'm going myself in a minute," replied +the doctor grimly. "Something is pulling me over. It's the same power +that keeps me from turning on my light."</p> + +<p>"It's perfectly safe to go over," said Carnes suddenly. "The plane is +resting on a solid base."</p> + +<p>"I have the same feeling. Catch hold of my belt and let's go."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>hey climbed over the side of the plane and dropped to the ground. +Their descent made absolutely no sound. Dr. Bird stopped and felt the +floor.</p> + +<p>"Crepe rubber, or something of the sort," he murmured. "At any rate, +it's noise and vibration proof."</p> + +<p>"Now what?" asked Carnes.</p> + +<p>"This way," replied the doctor confidently. "I'm beginning to get the +hang of understanding this. The way is perfectly level and open before +us. Keep your hand on my shoulder and step right out."</p> + +<p>"How do you know where we're going?"</p> + +<p>"I don't, but something tells me that the road is level and open. It +is the same thing that brought us over the side. I can't explain it +but it is some sort of a telepathic control exerted by an +intelligence. Whether the sending mind is reinforced by instruments I +don't know, but I rather fancy not."</p> + +<p>"Where is Garland?"</p> + +<p>"He went off in another direction. I could feel the power that guided +him although it was not directed at us. Something tells me that he is +safe for the present."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></p> + +<p>For half a mile they made their way through the darkness before they +stopped. This time Carnes could plainly understand the command which +came to both of them.</p> + +<p>"There is a table before us," said Dr. Bird. "Lay your flashlight and +pistol on it."</p> + +<p>Carnes struggled against the order but the power guiding him was +stronger than his will. He strove to turn on his light. When he could +not, he tried to cock his pistol. With a sigh, he laid his gun and +light on the table before him. Without words, the two men walked +forward a few feet and sat confidently down on a bench that something +told them was there.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_f.jpg" alt="F" width="33" height="40" /></div> +<p>or a moment they sat quietly. A cry, choked in the middle, came from +the detective's throat. Cold clammy hands touched his face. He strove +again to cry out, but his voice was paralyzed. The hands went +methodically over his body, evidently searching for weapons. Mustering +up his will, Carnes made a grab for one of them. His captor apparently +had no objection to the detective's action for Carnes seized the hand +without effort. But he almost dropped it. The hand was as large as a +ham. He reached for the other hand but could not locate it. A movement +on the part of his captor brought it to him and he made the startling +discovery that the palms were directed outward. The hand had only four +fingers, which were armed with long curved claws instead of nails. +Carnes ran his hand up the palm to search for a thumb but found none. +He found, however, that, while the hands were naked, the wrists were +covered with short thick fur.</p> + +<p>"Doctor!" he cried, "there's—"</p> + +<p>Again came the overpowering will and his speech died away in silence. +He sat dumb and motionless while his captor moved over to Dr. Bird. A +second animal came forward and felt the detective over. He was not +allowed to move this time, nor was he while a third and fourth animal +went carefully over him. The four drew back some distance.</p> + +<p>"Doctor," whispered Carnes as the influence grew fainter.</p> + +<p>"Shh!" was the answer, and as the doctor's demand for silence was +reinforced by another wave of the paralyzing power, Carnes had no +choice. As he sat there silent, the power which held him again seemed +to grow less. He found that he could move his arms slightly. He edged +forward to get his gun and light. Before he reached them, a beam of +light split the darkness. Dr. Bird stood, electric torch in hand, +staring before him.</p> + +<p>At a distance of a few feet stood a group of half a dozen animals +about the height of a man as they stood erect on their short hind +legs. They were covered with heavy brown fur. Their lower limbs were +thin and light, but their shoulders and forelegs were heavy and +powerful. Their forepaws, which had the palms facing outward, were +armed with the long wicked claws he had felt. No visible ears +protruded from the round skulls. Their heads appeared to rest between +their shoulders, so short were their necks. Their muzzles were long +and obtusely pointed. Through grinning jaws could be seen powerful +white teeth.</p> + +<p>"Talpidae!" cried Dr. Bird. "Carnes, they are a race of giant +intellectual moles!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_d.jpg" alt="D" width="36" height="40" /></div> +<p>espite the fact that they had no visible eyes, the creatures were +strongly affected by the light. They dropped on all fours and turned +their backs to the scientist and the detective. Two of them scurried +away down a long tunnel which opened from the room in which they +stood. Dr. Bird turned his light up and swept the room. It was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> +roughly circular, a hundred feet in diameter, with a roof ten feet +high. Dozens of tunnels led off in every direction.</p> + +<p>"Your light, Carnes, quick!" cried the doctor in a strained voice. +Carnes reached toward the table for his light. Before he could reach +it he was frozen into immobility. From the corner of his eye he could +watch the doctor. Dr. Bird was struggling to bring the light back on +the moles which stood before them. Great beads of sweat stood out on +his forehead. Inch by inch he moved the light closer to his goal, but +Carnes could see that his thumb was stealing up toward the switch +button. His breath came in sobs. Suddenly the light went out.</p> + +<p>For some time the two men sat motionless on the bench unable to speak +or move. One of the moles stepped before them and gave a mental +command. The two rose to their feet. For a mile or more they followed +their guide, then, at a silent command, they turned to the right for a +few steps and stopped. In another moment, the numbing influence had +departed.</p> + +<p>"Are you all right, Carnes?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, right as can be. Doctor, what were those things? Where are we? +What's it all about?"</p> + +<p>"We'll find out in time, I guess," replied the doctor with a chuckle. +"Carnes, isn't this the darnedest thing we've ever been through? +Captured half a mile underground by a race of giant talpidae before +whose mental orders we are as helpless as children. Did you understand +any of their talk?"</p> + +<p>"Talk? I didn't hear any."</p> + +<p>"Well, mental conversation then. They made no sound."</p> + +<p>"No. All I understood was the orders I obeyed."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_i1.jpg" alt="I" width="35" height="40" /></div> +<p> got a great deal of it," the doctor said. "We are evidently in or +near a sort of central community of these fellows. They spoke; +thought is a better word; they thought of doing away with us but +decided to wait until they consulted someone with more authority. You +see, we are not airplane pilots. Captain Garland was taken at once to +the place where they have other aviators imprisoned."</p> + +<p>"What do they want of pilots underground?"</p> + +<p>"I couldn't quite get that. There was another thought that I am not +sure that I interpreted correctly. If I did, there is some man of the +upper world down here in a position of considerable authority among +them. He has some use for pilots, but what use, I don't know. We are +to be held until he is consulted."</p> + +<p>"Who could it be?"</p> + +<p>"I can only think of one man. Carnes, and I hope I'm wrong. I don't +have to name him."</p> + +<p>"You mean—?"</p> + +<p>"Ivan Saranoff. We haven't heard of him or had any activity from him +for the last eight months. We know that he had a subterranean borer +with which he has penetrated deep into the earth. Isn't it possible +that he has, at some time in his explorations, come into contact with +these fellows and made friends with them?"</p> + +<p>"It's possible, Doctor, but I hoped we had killed him when we +destroyed his borer."</p> + +<p>"So did I, but he seems to bear a charmed life. Several times we have +thought him dead, only to have him show up with some new form of +devil's work. It is too much to hope that we have succeeded in doing +away with him. Did you notice one thing? Those fellows were helpless +while I held the light on them. The one which was holding us captive +got so interested in the discussion about our fate that he momentarily +forgot us. That was when I got my light. Until I turned the light away +from them, we were free men."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_t1.jpg" alt="T" width="49" height="40" /></div> +<p>hat's right," answered the secret service man.</p> + +<p>"Remember that. The next time we get a light on a bunch of them, hold +them in the beam until we can make terms."</p> + +<p>"If we ever get hold of a light again."</p> + +<p>"I have a light they didn't get, probably because I didn't think of it +while they were around. It is one of those fountain pen battery +affairs and they probably took it for a pen. I won't turn it on now, +partly to save it and partly not to let them know we have it. Let's +see what our prison is like."</p> + +<p>They felt their way around the room. It proved to be eight paces by +ten in size. Like the tunnels it was floored with crepe rubber or some +similar substance which gave out no sound of footsteps, yet was firm +underfoot. The room was furnished with two beds, a table and two +chairs. There was no sign of a door.</p> + +<p>"That's that," exclaimed the doctor when they had finished their +exploration. "I'm hungry. I wonder when we eat. Hello, here comes one +of the fellows now."</p> + +<p>Carnes made no reply. As the doctor's speech ended, a wave of mental +power enveloped the room. One of the moles entered, moved over to the +table for an instant and then left the room. An earthly odor of +vegetables pervaded the room.</p> + +<p>"My question is answered," said the doctor. "We eat now."</p> + +<p>He moved to the table. On it had been placed dishes containing three +different types of roots. Two of them proved to be palatable, but the +third was woody and bitter. The prisoners made a hearty meal from the +two they relished. For an hour they sat waiting.</p> + +<p>"Here they come again!" exclaimed the doctor. "We are going before the +person I spoke of. Can't you get their thoughts?"</p> + +<p>"No, I can't, Doctor. I can understand when I get a command, but aside +from those times everything is a blank to me."</p> + +<p>"My mental wave receiver, if that's what it is, must be attuned to a +different frequency than yours, for I can hear them talking to one +another. I guess I should say that I can feel them thinking to one +another. At any rate, they want us to follow. Come along, the road +will be open and level."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he doctor stepped out confidently with Carnes at his heels. For half +a mile they went forward. Presently they halted.</p> + +<p>"We are in a big chamber here, Carnes," whispered the doctor, "and +there is someone before us. We'll have some light in a minute."</p> + +<p>His prophecy was soon fulfilled. A vague glimmer of light began to +fill the cavern in which they stood. As it grew stronger they could +see a raised dais before them on which were seated three figures. Two +of them were the giant moles. Each of the moles wore a helmet which +covered his head completely, with no sign of lenses or other means of +vision. It was the central figure, however, which held the attention +of the prisoners.</p> + +<p>Seated on a chair and regarding, them with an expression of sardonic +amusement was a man. Above a high forehead rose a thin scrub of white +hair. Keen brown eyes peered at them from under almost hairless brows. +The nose was high bridged and aquiline and went well with his +prominent cheekbones. His mouth was a mere gash below his nose, framed +by thin bloodless lips. The lips were curled in a sneer, revealing +yellow teeth. The whole expression of the face was one of revolting +cruelty.</p> + +<p>"So," said the figure slowly, "fate has been kind to me. My friends, +Dr. Bird and Operative Carnes have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> chosen to pay me a long visit. I +am greatly flattered."</p> + +<p>The thin metallic voice with its noticeable accent struck a familiar +chord.</p> + +<p>"Saranoff!" gasped Carnes.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Carnes, Saranoff. Professor Ivan Saranoff, of the faculty of +St. Petersburg once. Now merely Saranoff, the scourge of the +bourgeois."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_i1.jpg" alt="I" width="35" height="40" /></div> +<p> hoped we had killed you," murmured Carnes.</p> + +<p>"It was no fault of Dr. Bird's that he failed," replied the Russian +with an excess of malevolence in his voice. "His method was a correct +one. Merely the fortuitous fact that we had just pierced one of the +tunnels of the Selom, and I was away from my borer exploring it, saved +me. You did me a good turn, Doctor, without meaning to. You destroyed +an instrument on which I had relied. In doing so, you unwittingly +delivered into my hands a power greater than any I had dreamed of—the +Selom."</p> + +<p>"What can a mental cripple like you do with blind allies like them?" +asked Dr. Bird with a contemptuous laugh. The Russian half rose from +his seat in rage. For a moment his hand toyed with a switch before +him. The sardonic sneer came back into his face and he dropped back +into his seat.</p> + +<p>"You nearly provoked me to destroy you, Doctor," he said, "but cold +calculation saved you. Since you will never return to the upper world, +save when and as I decree, I have no objection to telling you. The +Selom are not blind. Their eyes are under the skin as is the case with +many of the talpidae, but for all that they can see very well. Their +eyes function on a shorter wave than ours, a wave so short that it +readily penetrates through miles of earth and rock. This cavern is now +flooded with it. Visible light, the light by which we see, is limited +to their eyes, hence the helmets which you see. They can see through +those helmets as well as you or I can see through air."</p> + +<p>"What do you intend to do with us?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Doctor, there you hit me in a tender spot. I have a sore +temptation to close this switch on which my hand rests. Were I to do +so, both you and Mr. Carnes would vanish forevermore. I have, however, +conceived a very real affection for you two. Your brains, Doctor, +working in my behalf instead of against me would render me well-nigh +omnipotent. Mr. Carnes has a certain low cunning which I can also use +to advantage. Both of you will join me."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_y1.jpg" alt="Y" width="53" height="40" /></div> +<p>ou might as well close your switch and save your breath, Saranoff, +for we will do nothing of the sort," replied the doctor sharply.</p> + +<p>"Ah, but you will. So will Mr. Carnes. I had no hopes that you would +join me willingly. In fact, I am pleased that you do not. I could +never trust you. All the same, you will join my forces as have the +others whom I have brought into the hands of the Selom. I have ways of +accomplishing my desires. It pleases my fancy, Doctor, to use your +brains in aiding me in my scientific developments. You will enjoy +working with the scientists of the Selom. Among them you will find +brains which excel any to be found on the surface of the earth, since +we two are below. Already I have learned much from them. You, Mr. +Carnes shall be taught to pilot an airplane. When my cohorts go forth +from the realms of the Selom to establish the rule of Russia, you will +be piloting one of the planes. Your first task will be to learn to +fly."</p> + +<p>"I refuse to do anything of the sort!" said Carnes.</p> + +<p>"I will not be ready to have your flying lessons started until +to-morrow,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> replied the Russian, "and you will have until then to +reconsider your rash decision. It will be much easier for you if you +obey my orders. If you still refuse to-morrow, you will pay a visit to +the laboratory of the Selom. When you return your lessons will be +started. You will now be taken to your cell. I have use for Dr. Bird +this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"I won't leave Dr. Bird and that's flat!" exclaimed Carnes. Dr. Bird +interrupted him.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead, Carnesy, old dear," he said lightly. "You might just as +well toddle along under your own power as to be dragged along. You +have a day for reflection, in any event. I daresay I'll see you again +before they do anything to you."</p> + +<p>Carnes glanced keenly at the doctor's face. What he saw evidently +reassured him for he turned without a word and walked away. The light +grew gradually dimmer until darkness again reigned in the cavern.</p> + +<p>"Come, Doctor," said Saranoff's voice. "We have work to do."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_c.jpg" alt="C" width="30" height="40" /></div> +<p>arnes sat alone in his cell for hours. The darkness and loneliness +wore on him until he felt that his nerves would crack. Not a sound +came to him. He threw himself on one of the beds and plugged his ears +with his finger tips in an attempt to keep the silence out. Then a +cheerful voice sounded in the cell and a friendly hand fell on his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Well, Carnesy, old dear," said Dr. Bird, "have you been lonesome?"</p> + +<p>"Dr. Bird!" gasped Carnes in tones of relief. "Are you all right?"</p> + +<p>"Right as can be. I learned a lot this afternoon. For one thing, +you're going to start flying lessons to-morrow and you're going to do +your best to become an expert pilot in a short time. It is the only +thing to do."</p> + +<p>"And fly a plane for Saranoff?"</p> + +<p>"I hope not. The only way to avoid that very thing is to keep your +mentality unimpaired so that I can call on you for help when I need +it. If the Selom operate on you, you will be useless to me."</p> + +<p>"Operate? What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you. The Selom are a very old and highly civilized people. +For ages they have possessed scientific knowledge for which the +upper-world scientists are now blindly groping. Among other things, +they have a perfect knowledge of the workings of the brain. If they +operate they will remove from your brain every speck of memory you +have of past events, leaving only those things that will be useful to +Saranoff. You will be his complete slave. In that condition you will +be taught to fly a plane. When the time comes, you will fly one with +no remembrance of anything which happened prior to the operation and +with no will but his. It will be easier to teach you flying in your +natural state if you are willing. You will be willing."</p> + +<p>"If you wish it, Doctor."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_i1.jpg" alt="I" width="35" height="40" /></div> +<p> do wish it, most decidedly," Dr. Bird went on. "Obey every order +they give you. You will find that the Selom are an enlightened and +civilized race. They are very kindly and would willingly harm no one."</p> + +<p>"Then why have they taken up with Saranoff?"</p> + +<p>"He is the first man with whom they have come into contact. He has +told them a horrible tale of conditions on the surface, and they have +swallowed it, hook, line and sinker. They believe that he is going to +establish a new order of happiness and plenty for all with the aid of +his gang of cutthroats from Russia. If they had the slightest inkling +of the true state of affairs, they would turn on him in an instant."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you tell them?"</p> + +<p>"Remember that I am a stranger here and he has poisoned their minds<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> +against me. Although the mind of an ordinary men is an open book to +them, they cannot read Saranoff's secret thoughts against his will. +They can't read mine either, for that matter. I am working in the +laboratory and I will pick up a great deal. When the time comes, we +will strike for our liberty and for the safety of the world."</p> + +<p>"Did you learn Saranoff's plans?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. He is gathering planes and pilots in the underground caverns of +the Selom. When he gets enough, he will bring men from Russia to man +the planes. What could the United States, or the world for that +matter, do against a fleet of hundreds, possibly thousands, of the +best planes equipped with deadly weapons unknown to their science? +That menace confronts us and we must remove it. To give you some idea +of the power of the Selom, this afternoon Saranoff and I with one +assistant opened a cavern in the solid rock three miles long and a +mile wide and over six hundred feet in height."</p> + +<p>"Three men! How on earth did you do it?"</p> + +<p>"Two men and one mole. We did it with a ray, the secret of which only +the Selom and Saranoff know."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_y1.jpg" alt="Y" width="53" height="40" /></div> +<p>ou have told me a disintegrating ray is an impossibility," objected +Carnes.</p> + +<p>"It is. This was not a disintegrating ray. Carnes, either I am crazy +or the Selom have solved the secret of time, the fourth dimension. I +haven't been able to grasp the whole thing yet. What I think we did +was to remove that rock a distance, perhaps only a millionth of a +second, forward or back into time. At any rate it ceased to exist, yet +they can bring it back unchanged at will. That was the way they +captured our plane. They sent out a magnetic ray of such power that it +stopped our plane in midair and brought it to the ground. They +removed the rock from beneath us and lowered us into the hole. By +reversing the process they restored things to their original +condition. All of these tunnels and rooms were made in that way."</p> + +<p>"I still don't understand how they did it."</p> + +<p>"I don't either, but I hope to in time. Now let's go to bed. It's +late. To-morrow you will start your lessons with Captain Garland as an +instructor. He won't know you for he was operated on this afternoon. +Do your best to become a pilot. When I get ready, I want you with me +in full possession of all your faculties."</p> + +<p>The next morning the two prisoners separated and went to their duties. +In the cavern which Dr. Bird had described, Captain Garland was +waiting beside the plane he had flown. He did not know Carnes, but he +still knew how to fly. Declining to enter into any conversation, he +started expounding the theory of flying to the detective. Carnes +remembered Dr. Bird's words and applied himself wholeheartedly. For +four hours they worked together. At the end of that time the light +faded in the cavern and Carnes was led by an unseen guide back to his +cell. He threw himself on a bed and awaited Dr. Bird's return.</p> + +<p>"I have learned a few more things about the Selom," said the doctor +when he entered the cell several hours later. "We are in their largest +community. They have cities or warrens scattered all over the world. +Each city has its own ruler, but the whole race are ruled by an +overlord or king who habitually lives here. He is away visiting a +community under northern Africa just now, but he will be back in a few +days. The Selom are sincere in their desire to help the upper world. +They feel great pity for mankind in view of the conditions Saranoff +has described to them. When the king returns.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> I plan to make a direct +appeal to him. In the meantime, go on with your flying lessons. How +did you make out to-day?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he second day was a repetition of the first, as were the third and +fourth. A week passed before Dr. Bird entered the cell in evident +excitement.</p> + +<p>"Has Hanac brought our evening food yet?" he asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"No, Doctor."</p> + +<p>"Good. Take this light. As soon as he enters throw the light full on +him and hold him until I work on him. We've got to make our escape."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"The king is due back to-morrow. Saranoff is frightened at the good +impression I have made on the Selom. He is supreme in the monarch's +absence, so he plans to operate on both of us before he returns. He is +afraid to allow me to see the king with an unimpaired intellect and +memory. Shh! Here comes Hanac." The door to their cell opened +noiselessly. When the mole who brought their food was well inside, +Carnes turned on the tiny flashlight. The mole dropped on all fours +and tried to turn its back. Dr. Bird sprang forward. For an instant +his slim muscular fingers worked on the mole's neck and shoulders. +Silently the animal sank in a heap.</p> + +<p>"Come on, Carnes," cried the doctor. "Turn off the light."</p> + +<p>"Did you kill him, Doctor?" asked Carnes as he raced down a pitch dark +corridor at the scientist's heels.</p> + +<p>"No, I merely paralyzed him temporarily. He'll be all right in a day +or so. Turn here."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_f.jpg" alt="F" width="33" height="40" /></div> +<p>or ten minutes they ran down corridor after corridor. Carnes soon +lost all track of direction, but Dr. Bird never hesitated. Presently +he slowed down to a walk.</p> + +<p>"It's a good thing I have a good memory," he said. "I planned that +course out from a map, and I had to memorize every turn and distance +of it. We are now behind your flying hall and away from any of the +regular dwellings of the Selom. Straight west about four miles is one +of the time-ray machines with a guard over it. Aside from them, there +isn't a mole between here and Detroit."</p> + +<p>"What are we going to do, Doctor?"</p> + +<p>"Keep out of their way and avoid recapture if we can. If we merely +wanted to escape we would try to get possession of that time-ray +machine and open a road to the surface. However, I am not content with +that. I want to stay underground until Astok, their king, returns. +When he comes, we will surrender to him."</p> + +<p>"Suppose they operate without giving us a chance to present our side +of the affair."</p> + +<p>"If they do, Saranoff wins; but they won't. The more I have seen of +the Selom, the more impressed I am by their sense of justice. They'll +give us a hearing, all right, and a fair one."</p> + +<p>For two hours the doctor led the way. At the end of that time he +stopped.</p> + +<p>"We've gone as far as we need to," he said. "They'll undoubtedly send +out searching parties, but if we can avoid thinking they won't be able +to find us. The tunnels are a perfect labyrinth. If you care to sleep, +go to it. We'll be safer sleeping than awake, for we won't be sending +out thoughts so fast."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_d.jpg" alt="D" width="36" height="40" /></div> +<p>r. Bird threw himself down on the rubber floor of the tunnel and was +soon asleep. Carnes tried to follow his example, but sleep would not +come to him. Frantically he tried to think of nothing. By an effort he +would sit for a few minutes with his mind a conscious blank, but +thoughts would throng in in spite of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> him. Time and again he brought +himself up with a jerk and forced his mind to become a blank. The +hours passed slowly. Carnes grew cramped from long immobility and +rose. A sudden thought intruded itself into his mind. "I might as well +throw that light away," he murmured to himself. "It will be no good +now. The Selom won't hurt us if they do catch us."</p> + +<p>He reached in his pocket for the light. He was about to hurl it from +him when a moment of sanity came to him. He stared about. The impulse +to hurl the light away came stronger. He strove in vain to turn it on.</p> + +<p>"Doctor!" he cried suddenly. "Wake up! They're after us!"</p> + +<p>With a bound, Dr. Bird was on his feet.</p> + +<p>"The light!" he cried. "Where is it?"</p> + +<p>"In—my—hand," murmured Carnes with stiffening lips.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bird seized the light. A beam stabbed the darkness. Less than +fifty feet from them stood two moles. As the light flashed on Carnes +regained control of himself.</p> + +<p>"Take the light, Carnes," snapped the doctor. "I've got to put these +fellows to sleep."</p> + +<p>Slowly he advanced toward the motionless Selom. He had almost reached +them when the light flickered out. He turned and raced at full speed +toward the detective. Carnes was standing rigid and motionless. Dr. +Bird took the light from his hand. Despite the almost overpowering +drag on his mind, he managed to turn it on. He swung the beam around +in a circle. Besides the two Selom he had seen before, the light +revealed a pair standing behind him. As the light struck them, the +numbing influence vanished for an instant from the doctor's mind. He +moved a step forward and then halted. The moles behind him were +hurling waves of mental power at him. Again the light cleared him for +an instant, but he got a brief glance of other moles hurrying from +every direction.</p> + +<p>"The jig's up, I guess," he muttered. He strove to free himself by the +use of his light, but the tiny battery had done its duty, and +gradually the light grew dimmer. The influence grew too strong for +him. With a sigh he shut off the feeble ray and hurled the light from +him. The moles closed in.</p> + +<p>"All right," said the doctor audibly. "We'll go peaceably."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p>s he spoke the paralyzing power was withdrawn. With Carnes at his +side he retraced the route he had taken from the cell. Before they +reached it they turned off. Dr. Bird realized that they were treading +the familiar path to the laboratory.</p> + +<p>Outside the laboratory the Selom halted. A wave of mental power +enveloped the prisoners and they remained silent and motionless while +their escort withdrew. From the laboratory came three of the Selom +scientists. As the laboratory door opened they could see that it was +bathed in a flood of light, and that the moles wore helmets covering +their heads. They moved inside. Clad in a white gown stood Saranoff.</p> + +<p>"So, my friends, you would run away and leave me, would you?" gloated +the Russian. "And just when I had planned a very beneficial operation +for you! I will remove permanently from your brains all the delusions +which now encumber them, and for your own puny wills I will substitute +my own."</p> + +<p>The power which had held the prisoners silent disappeared.</p> + +<p>"You have caught us, Saranoff," said Dr. Bird. "I know the power you +wield and that you are making no idle boast. I appeal, however, to +these others, my friends. The operation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> you are planning to perform +is not a routine one. It is one that should have the sanction of the +king before it is done. I appeal from you to him."</p> + +<p>"He is far away," laughed Saranoff. "When he returns, your plea will +be presented to him, but it will be too late to do you any good. You +are right, Doctor—I do not plan a mere routine operation. Not only +will I remove your memory, but I'm going to use the time-ray on you +and banish forever into the unknown a portion of your brains. Without +knowing which adjustment I make of the infinite number possible, no +one, not even the king, can ever recall it."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_d.jpg" alt="D" width="36" height="40" /></div> +<p>r. Bird turned to the Selom scientists and hurled his thoughts at +them.</p> + +<p>"This man intends to commit a horrible crime," he thought, "and one +which he has no authority to perform. To you I appeal for justice. Bid +him wait until Astok returns, and let him be the judge as to whether +it shall be done. Jumor, you know me well. You know that my brain is +the equal of one of the Selom. Even you cannot read my thoughts +against my will. Are you willing to see that brain destroyed? Astok +will be here soon and nothing will be lost by a short delay."</p> + +<p>"He thinks truly," was the answering thought of Jumor. "It would be +better to wait."</p> + +<p>"We will not wait," crashed Saranoff's thought into their +consciousness. "He killed Hanac when he escaped, and his punishment +shall be as I have decreed. Did not the king give me full power while +he was away?"</p> + +<p>"It is true that he ordered us to obey this man in all things dealing +with upper-world men," thought Jumor. "If it is true that he killed +Hanac his punishment is doubtless just."</p> + +<p>"I did not kill Hanac," returned the doctor. "He is paralyzed and will +be all right in a few hours, if he isn't already. I demand that you +wait until Astok returns. When an appeal is made to him, no other may +judge. So says the Selom law."</p> + +<p>"That is true," replied Jumor. "We will wait until the king returns."</p> + +<p>"We will <i>not</i> wait," came Saranoff's thought. "The king delegated to +me his powers during his absence, as far as all the world, save the +Selom, were concerned. Were it one of the Selom appealing to the king, +I would be powerless before the appeal. These are not bound by Selom +law and are not entitled to its benefits. We will operate at once."</p> + +<p>"Then you will operate alone," retorted Jumor. "I will not assist +you."</p> + +<p>"I need none of your help," thought Saranoff. "Asmo and Camol, will +you help me? If you refuse I will report to Astok that you have +disobeyed and defied his chosen delegate."</p> + +<p>"We had better assist him, Jumor," thought Asmo. "Astok did delegate +his authority. I am not of the nobility and I dare not refuse to +help."</p> + +<p>"Suit yourself, Asmo," replied Jumor. "I refuse to assist, and will +appeal to Astok against him."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>he third mole hesitated.</p> + +<p>"You are higher in rank than we are, Jumor," he thought at length, +"and like Asmo, I dare not resist him. I heard the king give this +upper-earth man his authority while he was away. I will assist."</p> + +<p>"And I will leave the room," retorted Jumor.</p> + +<p>He moved to a door and threw it open. At the threshold he paused and +sent back a final thought.</p> + +<p>"I will appeal to Astok, our ruler. I will send now a message to him +to hurry home that he may judge between us."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span></p> + +<p>The door closed behind him. Saranoff chuckled audibly.</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Carnes," said Dr. Bird sadly. "This devil can do all he says +he can, and more. I'm sorry I brought you and Garland into this mess."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, it can't be helped, Doctor," replied the detective with an +attempt at cheerfulness. "What is he going to do to us?"</p> + +<p>"He'll have to use instruments for what he plans," said the doctor. +"Ordinarily a routine mental operation is performed without the use of +extraneous power. The mind of the operator is electrically connected +to the mind of the victim. By means of thought waves the operator +banishes from the mind of the subject such portions of his memory and +mentality as he chooses. He may then substitute other things in place +of what he has removed. Any of the Selom could operate on you, but I +doubt whether Jumor himself could do it successfully on me without aid +from power. Here come the instruments."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p>smo and Camol took from a cabinet on the side of the wall what looked +like a cloth helmet. Attached to it were a dozen wires which they +connected to a box on a table. The box was made of crystal and inside +it could be seen a number of vacuum tubes and coils of various +designs. Other leads ran to a similar helmet which Asmo placed on +Saranoff's head. A heavy cable ran to a switch on the wall.</p> + +<p>As Camol closed the switch the tubes in the box began to glow with +weird lights. Violet, green and orange streamers of light came from +them to dance in wild patterns on the laboratory walls. For five +minutes Saranoff made adjustments to dials on the front of the crystal +box. The colored lights died away and a gentle golden glow came from +the apparatus. He threw off the helmet.</p> + +<p>Camol left the laboratory and returned with a large coil on the top +of which was mounted a parabolic reflector. A device like a clock on +the front of the coil was constantly marking the passage of time. The +dial had two indicators which were together. Saranoff chuckled.</p> + +<p>"You may not have seen this device work, Doctor," he said. "In order +to let you know what you are facing, I will demonstrate."</p> + +<p>He turned the reflector so that it bore on the wall. He adjusted the +moving dial so that the two indicators were no longer together. As he +closed a switch, the wall before the reflector vanished. Saranoff +turned off the power.</p> + +<p>"That portion of the wall has gone back in time exactly three +seconds," he announced. "As far as the present is concerned, it has +ceased to exist. It is following us through time three seconds behind +us, but in all eternity it will never catch up unless I aid it. Since +the exact time is known, it can be restored. If I were to alter this +adjustment ever so little, it could never be recalled. Watch me."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>e again closed the switch, this time in a reverse direction. The wall +instantly filled up as it had been before. He moved the time dial so +that the two indicators coincided.</p> + +<p>"After I have sent a portion of your physical brain into the past or +the future as the fancy strikes me, I will change the adjustment of +that dial. Since there are an infinite number of adjustments to which +I might have set it, the chances that any one could ever duplicate my +setting and restore it are the complement of infinity, or zero," he +said. "I am now ready to remove your memory. If the impossible should +happen and your physical brain be restored it would be useless. Asmo, +adjust the helmet. I will operate on my friend, the Doctor, first."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span></p> + +<p>Carnes strove to rush to Dr. Bird's assistance, but he was helpless +before the force of Camol's will. Asmo adjusted the helmet to Dr. +Bird's head and buckled it firmly in place. With an evil grin, +Saranoff donned the other helmet.</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Dr. Bird," he said mockingly. "You will continue to see me, +but you won't know me, except as your master."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="41" height="40" /></div> +<p>is hand reached for the switch. It had almost closed on it when +Saranoff stopped convulsively. He sat motionless while the laboratory +door opened and Jumor entered the room. He was followed by another +mole. The newcomer was fully six inches taller than the others. His +head was hidden by a helmet, but around his arms he wore strings of +sparkling jewels.</p> + +<p>"Ivan Saranoff, what means this?" his powerful thoughts dominated the +room.</p> + +<p>"I was merely engaged in rectifying some of the mental errors of this +man of the upper earth," explained the Russian eagerly. "It is merely +a routine operation such as you gave me authority to perform."</p> + +<p>"An operation which uses power is not routine," replied the king. "I +am told that this upper-earth man has a brain equal to those of my +most advanced scientist. I am also told that you planned to do more +than rectify his mental errors."</p> + +<p>"You have been falsely informed. I was merely about to adjust his +memory."</p> + +<p>"Then what means this?" The king pointed to the time-ray machine.</p> + +<p>"That was brought here in order that it could be used when you +returned," thought the Russian eagerly. "This upper-earth man killed +Hanac when he brought him food."</p> + +<p>The door opened and Hanac entered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Astok," objected Hanac's thoughts, "when these upper-earth men +had me at their mercy, with a light, they spared me. They paralyzed me +for a time so that they might escape but they did it in such a manner +that no harm came to me."</p> + +<p>"So Jumor told me," replied the king. "Release them."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i.jpg" alt="I" width="16" height="40" /></div> +<p>n an instant Carnes was on his feet removing the helmet from Dr. +Bird's head. The doctor struggled to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Bird," thought the king, "can you communicate with me easily?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Your Majesty, but may I ask that you alter the vibration period +of my comrade, Mr. Carnes? He cannot understand you with his present +low period."</p> + +<p>The king stepped to the box with which Saranoff had been working. In +response to his commands the helmet which had been on Dr. Bird's head +was placed on the detective. The king made a few adjustments to the +dials and signalled for the helmet to be removed.</p> + +<p>"Can you understand me, Mr. Carnes?" he asked mentally.</p> + +<p>The question leaped with startling clearness into the detective's +head. Carefully he framed his answer.</p> + +<p>"I can understand you," said the king. "I will now sit in judgment on +the appeal made to me. Dr. Bird tell me your story."</p> + +<p>With eloquent thoughts, Dr. Bird poured forth the history of the upper +world. He told of the great war and the collapse of the Russian +monarchy. He traced history to the fall of the moderate party and the +rise of the Bolsheviki. He described the horrible conditions existing +in Russia. At the end he reviewed the long battle he and Carnes had +fought against Saranoff. When he had finished, the king questioned +Carnes.</p> + +<p>The detective repeated the story in different words and the king +turned to Saranoff. From the Russian's mind came a tissue of distorted +facts and downright lies. He denied<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> or twisted around everything that +the detective and the scientist had said. When he had done with his +tale, Astok sat in secret thought for a few minutes.</p> + +<p>"The tales you tell me are so far apart that I can give credence to +none of them," he announced at length. "There is but one solution. +Although they are never used, for the Selom have forgotten the meaning +of a falsehood, we have instruments which will drag the truth from the +brain of a liar. They are powerful and their use may easily be fatal. +If a man gives forth the contents of his brain willingly, the process +is not painful. If he tries to conceal anything, it is torture. Will +you willingly submit your brains to the searching of this instrument?"</p> + +<p>"Gladly," came Dr. Bird's thought and Carnes reechoed it.</p> + +<p>"And you, Ivan Saranoff?" demanded the king.</p> + +<p>"I will not submit," thought the Russian sullenly.</p> + +<p>"You will be examined whether you submit willingly or not," replied +Astok. "I am going to learn the truth though I kill you all to get +it."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p>t the king's order, Jumor hastened from the laboratory. He returned +in a few minutes with an apparatus similar to the one which Saranoff +had planned to use on Dr. Bird, but larger, and with more dials on the +crystal box. At a command from the king, Dr. Bird donned the helmet.</p> + +<p>The king manipulated switches and dials. Around Dr. Bird's head glowed +a halo of crimson light. Twice an expression of momentary pain passed +over his countenance. After half an hour, Astok cut on the power and +nodded to Carnes.</p> + +<p>"Don't try to hold anything back, Carnesy," said Dr. Bird sharply. +"You couldn't if you tried, and the process is very painful, I can +assure you."</p> + +<p>With the helmet on his head the detective sat for ten minutes while +the Selom king went through his brain. A dozen times he shrieked in +agony but his moments of suffering were short. The king removed the +helmet.</p> + +<p>"Your minds agree well," he thought. "Now I will examine the mind of +my friend."</p> + +<p>The helmet was strapped on Saranoff. Instantly an expression of the +utmost anguish crossed his face. Shriek after shriek of agony came +from his writhing lips. Relentlessly the king applied more power. The +cries of the Russian grew heartrending. Suddenly he grew rigid and +slumped forward in his chair. Astok impassively manipulated his +instrument. After half an hour, he opened the switch and removed the +helmet. Under the ministrations of Jumor the Russian revived. The king +sat in secret thought for an hour.</p> + +<p>"I have examined the brains of all of you," he announced at length, +"and I find hopeless contradictions. Each of you believes thoroughly +in his own social order. Both tell me of hopeless misery on the part +of a large portion of his people. Both tell of horrible wars and +suffering beyond my comprehension. The thoughts of all of you teem +with modes of bringing death to your fellow beings. Your entire +science his been perverted to the ends of destruction. Nothing of the +sort can be realized by the Selom where truth, justice and mercy +prevail. Each of you holds that his form of government is better than +the other, and will cause less suffering and misery than the others'. +None of you hold out hope of happiness for your fellow beings. I do +not know which system is less obnoxious. My decision is made. The +Selom will not interfere in the affairs of the upper-earth. You may +fight out your battles without aid and without interference.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I will operate on both Ivan Saranoff and Dr. Bird. I will remove from +their minds all knowledge of our science and instruments and leave +them in the same condition that they were when they entered my realms. +Each of you will then be returned to upper-earth, Ivan Saranoff to +Russia, Dr. Bird and Mr. Carnes to the United States. The pilots, whom +I hold prisoners, will have their mentalities restored and be returned +to their homes. The planes we have captured, I will send off into time +so that they can never be used for the misery of upper-earth men +again. Jumor, you will carry out these orders."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_i1.jpg" alt="I" width="35" height="40" /></div> +<p> wish I could remember how that time machine was built and +operated," said Dr. Bird reflectively, as he sat in his private +laboratory in the Bureau of Standards some time later, "but Jumor did +his work well. I can't even remember what the thing looked like."</p> + +<p>"Well, Doctor, our trip below wasn't a loss. We removed a very real +menace to the established order of things and we have got rid of +Saranoff temporarily. It will take him some time to return here from +Russia."</p> + +<p>"Three weeks or less," said Dr. Bird pessimistically. "However, we +have gained one other thing. Did you notice this?"</p> + +<p>He pulled what looked like a watch from his pocket. Carnes regarded it +with a puzzled expression.</p> + +<p>"No, Doctor, what is it?"</p> + +<p>"It is a very small camera which takes pictures one-half inch by +seven-eighths. I had several opportunities to use it. I wasn't sure +that it would work on such short waves, but it did. When Saranoff +tries to return to this country, he will find that every immigration +inspector and every member of the border patrol has an excellent +likeness of him. That may hinder his entrance into the country for a +little while."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>A CLASSIFICATION OF THE UNIVERSE</h3> +<p>A classification of everything in the universe, from the smallest +thing yet measured, the electron, less than a millionth of a millionth +of an inch in extent, to the biggest, a star system of a thousand +million trillion miles, was described recently by Prof. Harlow Shapley +of Harvard in a lecture at the commerce center of the College of the +City of New York.</p> + +<p>Looking forward to a time when man will be able to measure even +smaller things than the electron and larger than the greatest star +system, Prof. Shapley explained that he had left the classification +"open at both ends."</p> + +<p>Man, Prof. Shapley said, occupies a very small place in all this +system, although, beside an electron or an atom, he is not so +negligible, at that.</p> + +<p>"The survey," it was explained, "aims toward giving perspective. It +gives a sane and modest view of man's place in the scheme.</p> + +<p>"The significance of the classification lies in the skeleton which is +afforded all science to bring some measure of order out of the world's +present chaotic knowledge of the systems of various kinds.</p> + +<p>"All systems find a place in this synthesis—atoms, comets and +galaxies; man, radiation and the space-time complex. When looked at in +this objective way, human beings, and all associated terrestrial +organisms, appear only parenthetically in one of the subdivisions of +the class of colloidal aggregates."</p> + +<p>Prof. Shapley discussed the concept of the cosmoplasma.</p> + +<p>"This," it was explained, "is at once the most mysterious and +fundamental part of the universe, and only recently has come under +direct experimental study. In brief, it is the substratum of materials +throughout the universe, between planets, stars and the galaxies.</p> + +<p>"It has no obvious systematic organization. Hence it includes such +diverse constituents as the high speed shooting stars, interstellar +calcium gas and radiation itself.</p> + +<p>"Though no one has even seen an electron, the smallest thing included +in the classification, they have been proved to exist in several ways. +They give forth flashes of light that can be photographed. They have +caused the bending of X-rays as they pass through a substance."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span></p> +<p><a name="The_Readers_Corner" id="The_Readers_Corner"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/image_013.jpg" width="600" height="548" alt="The Readers' Corner" /> +</div> + + + +<p class="p1"><i>Likes the "Corner"</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>This month's issue, May, has the best collection of letters +you've ever published. All it lacked was a letter from +Bernard J. Kenton, that master of epistles and super-science +stories. One of your Readers would like to have "The +Readers' Corner" omitted. For heaven's sake, don't take it +out! I recognize it as one of the best features of our mag, +and whenever I open the covers, turn to it directly after +having glimpsed the table of contents and the announcement +of the stories to appear in the forthcoming issue.</p> + +<p>Mr. Joseph R. Barnes—whose letter I enjoyed immensely, +incidentally—will be interested in knowing that "The Mascot +Deep" is already in book form and that "The Disintegration +Machine" and "When the World Screamed," all by the same +author, are under the same covers. He also will be +interested in learning that Ray Cummings' fine story, "Sea +Girl," is also between hard covers.</p> + +<p>The idea of putting out a quarterly is a dandy. The other +science fiction quarterlies are mere text-books; there are, +occasionally, of course, a few exceptions. The thought of +the sort of fantastic action stories Astounding Stories +publishes, put together in a magazine doubly thick, is a +pleasing one to contemplate. Reading a story the length of +"Brigands of the Moon" and of such literary merit, complete +in one issue, is a thrill to be looked forward to. By all +means put out such a magazine and have stories by Jack +Williamson, R. F. Starzl and Edmond Hamilton, three of your +best writers, in the first issue.</p> + +<p>I'm glad to see that Starzl is coming back with the next +issue. More from him, please. And Hamilton and Williamson +should appear more frequently, too.</p> + +<p>A question, Mr. Cummings: Shades of Polter and Tugh!—why +must you always have a deformed character in your stories? +Do they appeal to your dramatic sense?</p> + +<p>The news that we're going to have a story from Francis Flagg +brings raptures of delight to my homely face. If it's a +dimensional story, I'll cheer twice. When it comes to +writing that kind of a story, Flagg's the king of them all. +For sheer interest and originality, he's got his +contemporaries in that field outdistanced with a distance +that can only be counted by light-years.</p> + +<p>A pat on the back for Booth Cody and Sears Langwell, two +staunch supporters.</p> + +<p>All our magazine needs is a story about time crusaders, or a +planet of mechanical men.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span></p> + +<p>Omitting the authors already mentioned, I considered my +favorites to be Rousseau, Eshbach, Diffin, Ernst, and Hal K. +Wells.</p> + +<p>The best story you ever published? Who am I to answer? Why +not put it up to the Readers for popular vote?—Jerome +Siegel, 10522 Kimberley Ave., Cleveland, Ohio.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>Explanation Wanted</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>This is my first letter to you, but I am a consistent Reader +of Astounding Stories, and look forward to all of the coming +issues. I have in mind a question, a friendly one, not one +that I expect to or hope will seem to be trying to dampen +any theories. This rocket-ship propulsion: as I understand +it, there is a void between all planets, etc. If this is the +case, how then can a rocket-propelled space ship go across +this void? Since the exhaust of the rockets must rely on +some material of a sort, or rather some sort of resistance +to push the ship along, how does it push on nothing? Of +course, near Earth it has the ground and then the atmosphere +to push from, but out in the void, why not cut off and save +fuel, therefore saving an extra heavy load of explosives, if +rocket-ships were really practical in space flying? Yours +for a thicker Astounding Stories—H. M. Crowson, Jr., +Sumter, S. C.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>Better Than Love Stories</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>I have started to read the Astounding Stories and enjoy it +very much, although I do not find very many girls writing in +to the "Corner." This mag is a thousand times better than +all those love story magazines, and besides these stories +are educational.</p> + +<p>I would rather read Astounding Stories than eat. They are +not too scientific to be boresome, but they are just good +enough to be real interesting.</p> + +<p>I wish you would publish some more stories like "The Lake of +Light," "Dark Moon," etc. I especially like stories of the +future and interplanetary novels.</p> + +<p>Anyone wishing to correspond with me will be welcome, as I +love to write letters, and especially to anyone interested +in the same things that I am.—(Miss) Bernice Goldberg, 147 +Crescent Drive, Mason City, Iowa.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>Kidding the Editor</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>I have just finished your January, 1932, issue of Astounding +Stories. It was superb.</p> + +<p>Imagine my delight and surprise when I purchased the first +issue this year! Smooth edges! Good quality of paper! I had +a few other articles to purchase but I forgot all about +them when I saw your magazine and rushed home to read it.</p> + +<p>It had a most admirable cover design by your best artist, H. +W. Wesso. I turned to the Contents Page. The first story was +by my favorite author, Ray Cummings, and called "The Space +Car to Mars." Hot dog! My favorite theme, interplanetary +travel.</p> + +<p>All the rest of the Authors were my favorites too! Edmond +Hamilton, Capt. S. P. Meek, S. P. Wright, A. J. Burks and a +short story by Jack Williamson.</p> + +<p>I turned to the next page and lo and behold, what do I see +but an editorial. Wonders after wonders! It was called "The +Possibilities of Space Travel." I was by this time beginning +to think that at last the Editor had achieved a perfect +magazine, and when I turned to the first story, the one by +Ray Cummings, I knew it. There was a double-page +illustration by Wesso in soft and realistic <i>colors</i>! Think +of it! <i>Colored</i> illustrations for each story!</p> + +<p>Well, I was so excited that I could hardly read, but at last +I began. Boy, can Ray Cummings write interplanetary stories! +Y como! (And how!) He wove scientific explanations into the +story so very skillfully that one learned the scientific +facts without knowing it. When he thought that the +explanation of some invention would be boresome, he put a +little note at the foot of the page. This, I remembered, was +an admirable feature in his story "Brigands of the Moon," +which you published two years ago.</p> + +<p>I then turned to "The Readers' Corner" only to discover that +its name had been changed to "The Observatory." (I expect +this name was taken from the suggestion of P. Leadbeater in +the March, 1931, issue.) I discovered also, to my delight, +that at the end of each letter the Editor made a few +comments. I finished reading the Readers' letters and on the +next page I found this leadline: "Science Questions and +Answers." I read these with enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>I forgot to mention the raise in the price to twenty-five +cents, but that is immaterial to me now since I have the +perfect science fiction magazine. You have surely hitched +your wagon (magazine) to a star now!—Clay Ferguson, Jr., +510 Park St. S. W., Roanoke, Va.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>Sugar Candy</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>It is very seldom that I write to any page like "The +Readers' Corner" but I have gotten rather tired of all those +knocks. So I am writing to say that I have missed only one +of your issues since the second, (Feb. 1930) and have found +only one not to my liking, and I have forgotten what that +is.</p> + +<p>I have no comment to make on your Authors. I don't care who +writes it or what his literary reputation is—as long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> as +the story is good; and you wouldn't print it if it weren't.</p> + +<p>As for exact scientific data—away with it. Some may wish to +be bored with it, but I prefer action. I like your pictures. +They are bizarre and give one an idea of what the Author is +trying to convey. And they intrigue the interest before the +story is read. I also like the size, because it is not +awkward, and I like the edges because they make the pages +easy to turn.—Mrs. Margaret M. Phinney, 1632 W. 3rd, +Plainfield, N. J.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1">"<i>Becoming a Habit</i>"</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>The May Astounding Stories seems to have nothing but +complimentary letters in it. Mr. Magnuson probably tore out +his hair when he saw all those letters. Not that Astounding +Stories fully deserves all that praise. As one Reader said, +words are inadequate to describe how wonderful your magazine +is; however, I do not agree with those who denounce some of +the Readers for making criticisms and suggestions. No +magazine can be absolutely perfect, although Astounding +Stories comes pretty near it. Even if it were perfect, the +Readers would have to keep on making criticisms and +suggestions in order to keep it that way. Besides, "The +Readers' Corner" would become pretty dull and lifeless if +you printed nothing but flattering letters. Most of the +Readers who make unfavorable criticisms really have the +welfare of the magazine in mind, else they wouldn't write at +all. All of them aren't grouches. For example: a certain +person sent one of the Science Fiction magazines about the +most vicious and uncomplimentary letter that magazine had +ever received. Yet in this issue of Astounding Stories he +jumps on the knockers for daring to say anything against +Astounding Stories! So you see that all knockers are not +hopeless!</p> + +<p>I notice that you have complied with one of my requests, and +have published an autobiography of Mr. Wentzler, although +there is no picture. Perhaps, as Mr. Wentzler suggests, that +is for the best. The readers of Astounding Stories are +accustomed to pictures of grotesque and weird-looking +inhabitants of other planets, but a picture of Mr. Wentzler +may prove to be too much. Or, if you do put it in, you might +entitle it "Wesso's Conception of a Martian."</p> + +<p>I hope Mr. Wentzler does not take the above paragraph too +seriously. Like him, I was hit on the head when I was but a +babe. In my case, it was a bronze statue that proved to be +my undoing. Unfortunately, they were never able to +straighten out the bend in that statue, which was the result +of its contact with my dome.</p> + +<p>As for the stories in the May issue, they were all perfect, +every one of them. Having all the stories perfect in each +issue is becoming a habit with you. Keep up this habit. For +first place I nominate "When the Moon Turned Green." I +considered Mr. Wells' previous story, "The Gate to Xoran" +the best short story you had ever printed, but the later one +surpasses it. You will not be making a mistake if you give +us many more stories by this Author. I do not need to say +anything else about the rest of the stories—they are all +excellent.</p> + +<p>Don't you think that it is about time for Astounding Stories +to become a semi-monthly?—Michael Fogaris, 157 Fourth +Street, Passaic, N. J.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>Located at Last</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>I read every Science Fiction magazine on the market, and can +truthfully say that yours is the best of them all.</p> + +<p>Of course, there is always room for improvement, and some of +the stories published in the May issue were not so hot. Meek +always gives me a pain in the neck, but Cummings is an ace, +though the installment in this issue dragged considerably. +In Diffin you have a master writer; and I was tickled to +death to see finally in "our" mag a story by that peerless +team, Schachner and Zagat.</p> + +<p>I was wondering how long it would take you to locate them, +as you have done with most of the other stars in Science +Fiction.—Bill Merriam, Ocean Front, Venice, Cal.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>"Stories Aid Considerably"</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>I cannot rightfully say what story was the best in +Astounding Stories. For the man who balances stories for +their values is just kidding himself. That is my theory and +I am ready at all times to stand in back of it.</p> + +<p>Though I have only been reading Astounding Stories since +January, I am a thoroughly convinced fan. For the past two +years I have been puttering with chemistry and physics in a +laboratory of my own, and the science mentioned in these +stories aids considerably.</p> + +<p>I would sincerely appreciate letters from Readers of +Astounding Stories. I will answer all.—Lawrence Schumaker, +1020 Sharon St., Jamesville, Wis.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>To the Rescue, Somebody!</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>You're getting better all the time. The April number was the +best yet, and the May issue is not far behind it. The cover +on the May issue was wonderful.</p> + +<p>"Dark Moon" is the best story by Diffin that you have yet +printed. "When the Moon Turned Green" and "The Death Cloud" +are both masterpieces.</p> + +<p>"The Exile of Time" is a fine story, but I cannot understand +the explanations. How could the murder of Major Atwood be +mentioned in the records of New York? Why could not one see +events in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> which he participated? Of course, Ray Cummings +perhaps knows more about it than I, but I think a lot of his +ideas are the bunk.</p> + +<p>I do not think that your stories should be full of science +and nothing else, but they should at least observe known +scientific facts.—J. J. Johnston, Mowbray, Man., Can.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>A "Two-Timer"</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>I was surprised but pleased to receive the answer to the +question I asked in my letter to you. It is indeed a +pleasure to read a magazine that takes enough interest in +its patrons to personally answer a letter written to it. +Thank you very much.</p> + +<p>And I am certainly glad that we are to get a sequel to "Dark +Moon." I wish that I could personally tell Mr. Diffin what I +think of his writing.</p> + +<p>I am anxiously awaiting the next issue of "our mag." It +certainly does seem a long time between issues. When are you +going to start putting it on the stands twice a month? I +know that thousands of Readers would bless the day you did +it.</p> + +<p>Please keep up the good work; and I know you will, for the +longer I read A. S. the more I enjoy it.</p> + +<p>The serial, "The Exile of Time," is a story par excellence. +But I know the forthcoming sequel to "Dark Moon" will be a +super-story.</p> + +<p>My idea of reading is that if a story is worth reading once +it is worth reading twice, and I have never seen any story +in your book that was not worth reading once. Nuff said.</p> + +<p>I will answer any letters written me. I hope to hear from +plenty of Readers—C. G. Davis, 531 S. Millard, Chicago, +Ill.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>And Sequel It Has</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>I have just finished the May number of Astounding Stories, +and want to send my contribution to "The Readers' Corner."</p> + +<p>The novelette, "Dark Moon," by Diffin, is rather an +outstanding story, in my opinion. It is plausible and +convincing, and the literary quality is high. I have a +feeling that this should have a sequel, and wonder if others +will not agree with me. That Astounding Stories is the best +of the Science Fiction Magazines is something that scarcely +lends itself to argument. Without questions, it leads them +all. Take the present number for instance: Diffin, Meek and +Cummings, three top-notchers, all in one issue.—A. J. +Harris, 1525 Bushnell Ave., South Pasadena, Cal.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>I'm Afraid Not</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>I have read every one of your Astounding Stories and think +there is no other magazine on the market like it. Only one +kick: it doesn't appear often enough. I should like to see +it every week; every two weeks, anyway. I like every story +you print, and I think the size of your magazine is perfect. +I have saved every issue I read, and now have seventeen of +them.</p> + +<p>"Phalanxes of Atlans" and "Marooned Under the Sea" were +especially good. "The Readers' Corner" is fine, but I don't +like so many brickbats thrown. I should like to see more +bouquets given to you.</p> + +<p>There is one thing I'd like to see you print. You probably +have heard of the Fox Movietone picture, "Just Imagine," an +interplanetary story of 1930. I'd like to see it printed in +Astounding Stories more than anything else. It would make a +fine serial. I don't suppose it would be possible for you to +print it, though, would it?—Ernestine Small, 1151 Brighton +Ave., Portland, Ore.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>Better to Verse</i></p> + +<p class="p3">Dear Editor:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Astounding Stories can't be beat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its every issue is a treat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The finest authors of the age<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Appear upon Astounding's stage.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's Diffin, Cummings, Leinster, Burks;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An all-star cast that's sure the works.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Harl Vincent, Wells, and Starzl, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Belong among this famous crew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ed Hamilton and Vic Rousseau<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Captain Meek complete the show.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Together they are sure the best;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That's why Astounding leads the rest!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="p4">—Booth Cody, Bronx, N. Y.</p> + + +<p class="p1"><i>Another "Two-Timer"</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>I have just finished reading the May issue of Astounding +Stories for the second time. I have been reading Astounding +Stories for over a year, and so far I can find only one +thing wrong with it, and that is that it is not thick +enough. In other words, you do not put enough stories in it.</p> + +<p>Some people who write in to the "Corner" say that the paper +is rotten. I still have all my magazines, and the paper is +as good as new. The paper is also good on the eyes, as it +does not reflect light like a mirror, as some paper does. +Some people say the pages are uneven and hard to turn. Like +Mr. H. N. Snager, I become so interested in the stories I do +not notice such trifles. Anybody who yells about the color +of the cover, the durability of the paper, is not very +interested in Astounding Stories.</p> + +<p>Why don't you either print a full page picture at the +beginning of each story or else keep the half page picture +at the beginning and put another picture halfway through the +story?—Wm. McCalvy, 1244 Beech St., St. Paul, Minn.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span></p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>A Buttercup for Paul</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>Congratulations! Astounding Stories has scored again! Not +satisfied with illustrations by the mighty Wesso only, you +have secured a drawing by the equally mighty Paul! May we +see many more by him?—Thomas L. Kratzer, 3595 Tullamore +Rd., Cleveland Heights, Ohio.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>Nerves Now Better?</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>In Gould you have a fine illustrator; in Wesso a better one, +but as I skip the page on which the story, a truly +remarkable one by R. F. Starzl, "The Earthman's Burden" is +on, my eye is caught by—yes! a drawing by Paul, good old +reliable Mr. Paul, the king of Science Fiction illustrators. +Now that you have him on your artist's staff I wouldn't feel +at all bad seeing a painting of his on the cover.</p> + +<p>The June issue was a dazzler. "Manape the Mighty" held me +spellbound. The others were all excellent stories. The cover +painting by Wesso was good, but I have already seen one of +that sort in a previous issue. Why not give us more +interplanetary illustrations of space ships and the like as +in "Brigands of the Moon"?</p> + +<p>Another thing, it is nine-thirty. I must be asleep by +eleven-thirty in order to start for school early the next +morning. I allow myself two hours in which to read +Astounding Stories. I turn to the contents section; I see a +story there which I wish to read. It is on page 604. I turn +the pages: 599, 601, 607 come in rapid succession, all but +the page I look for. This goes on for some time until at +last the roughened edge of 604 comes into view. By then my +nerves are on edge and I find it is almost eleven-thirty!</p> + +<p>But I cannot say that you do not stand up with the foremost +of all magazines, and the way you are improving now you'll +soon forge far in front.—Arthur Berkowitz, 763 Beck St., +New York City.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>Some Goal!</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>Permit me to congratulate Mr. Diffin on his latest +masterpiece, "Holocaust."</p> + +<p>Every once in a while Mr. Diffin produces a story that bids +fair to eclipse all its contemporaries. His former story, +"The Power and the Glory," could also be placed in that +category. Somehow, that story has become indelibly written +on my memory. The philosophy expressed in it was +overwhelming. It would have done justice to a Shakespeare.</p> + +<p>And now, you can imagine how delighted I am to learn that +Mr. Diffin has once again graced us with a yarn of the same +class.</p> + +<p>Man, if you continue to publish such stories as these +frequently, you'll have the public terming Astounding +Stories literature of the highest grade! However, I won't +entreat Mr. Diffin to write these stories spasmodically, as +the long wait between tales adds lure to the stories.</p> + +<p>And now for Mr. Burks. Ah—here is an extraordinary chap! +Mr. Burks is your most versatile author. Of his several +stories, each has opened up a new vista in the field of +Science Fiction, and he is a thoroughbred in each endeavor. +If you want to be convinced, read the opening chapters of +"Manape The Mighty," and I will wager any sum you won't lay +down the story until you've read every word.</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, all the stories are good. And the bill +for next month appears to be exceptionally unusual. It is +very evident that you are on the road to perfection. Smooth +cut edges, the acquisition of the greatest of artists, Paul, +all point to the accelerating progress Astounding Stories is +achieving.</p> + +<p>We Readers are frequently asked as to how we would run the +magazine if we were Editors. Well, here is my conception of +the ideal magazine:</p> + +<p>Smooth paper, no advertisements whatsoever, the interior +illustrations done by an artist with the talent of a Paul +and a Wesso combined, and made in water colors, too. Then I +would only have such renowned Authors as Burroughs, MacIsaac +and a few others. I suppose that's the eternal dream of the +modern Editor, but who can say that you, Mr. Bates, won't +evolve Astounding Stories in the same manner. At any rate, +there's a goal to aim for.—Mortimer Weisinger, 266 Van +Cortlandt Ave., Bronx, N. Y.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>Guilty</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>You are hereby summoned to appear in Court on attempt of +murder. Following are the charges: Stopping my heart from +beating when I saw the smooth edges in Astounding Stories, +and making my heart miss five beats when I saw "The +Earthman's Burden" illustrated by Paul!</p> + +<p>I now think Astounding Stories has reached its highest peak. +Arthur J. Burks' story was a wow. I hope he works on a story +as he said he would in "The Readers' Corner" if he gets +enough requests.</p> + +<p>And Charles Willard Diffin! Here's a writer for you. I think +the first story he ever wrote was published in Astounding +Stories. Don't lose him. His "Holocaust" is his best, with +the probable exception of "The Power and the Glory." I don't +think the last mentioned ever got enough praise. I expect to +see it reprinted some day in The Golden Book Magazine. It's +distinctly smooth paper style.</p> + +<p>And of course Sewell Peaslee Wright's "John Hanson" stories +are top-notchers.</p> + +<p>And Ray Cummings. Must we mention his story? We all know +what to expect when we read one of his stories. I hope you +have another serial by him soon.</p> + +<p>I'm sure you'll be deluged with letters<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> because of the even +edges and the illustrations by Paul (who should draw at +least two in every issue), but I hope you'll print my +letter, because I never had a letter of mine in print, and +want to get a thrill seeing this published.—Anthony +Caserta, 4575 Park Ave., New York, N. Y.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1">"<i>Very Pretty Problems Here</i>"</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>The letters by P. Schuyler, J. N. Mosleh, and Jackson Gee in +the last number sure do raise some very neat possibilities +in Science. Anent travel in time, just what would you, Mr. +Schuyler, expect to see if "John Doe" at 40 years (1931) +went back to 1892 and met "John Doe" of that date on Main +Street of his old home town? I suspect that two bodies +cannot simultaneously contain the same ego, constant-entity, +personality, or soul.</p> + +<p>Which brings me to Mr. Mosleh, to ask: Just how is the +self-realizant ego, which is conscious that "I am I" +unchangingly for life, in any sense a derivative of the +unstable, rapidly changing body?</p> + +<p>Mr. Burks and Mr. Lee elucidate a very pretty little problem +on the same lines. The cranial transplantation and the +"atomic patterns" are admittedly scientifically and +reasonably possible. But there is a real point of doubt: +Would the personality accompany the brain in +transplantation? True, the brain is the control room; but—?</p> + +<p>And would the "atomic patterns," perfectly as they could +duplicate a body, which is unstable by nature, work on the +essentially stable ego (relatively) with its inherent +capacity for continuity?</p> + +<p>If not, would not the synthetic "Extra Man" be a human being +minus personality? Some very pretty problems here. I'd much +like to see a story along the lines of item 3 in Mr. Burks' +letter.—L. Partridge, Box 84, Cornish, Me.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>What Price Smoothness?</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>I have just finished the June issue of Astounding Stories. +The cover was excellent, as were all the illustrations, +except perhaps Manape's arms should have been a little +larger.</p> + +<p>I see that the edges of the paper are now smooth, but still +the leaves stick out beyond one another, so what good does +that do?</p> + +<p>"Manape the Mighty," by Arthur J. Burks, was superb, +gripping. I suppose a lot of Readers will rise violently +against the love interest, but, I ask you, just where would +this particular story be without the romance in it? This +particular story, you understand; not every story.</p> + +<p>"Holocaust," by Charles Willard Diffin, was next best with +"The Man from 2071" a close second.</p> + +<p>"The Earthman's Burden" was at least entertaining, which +this installment of "The Exile of Time" was not.—Robert +Baldwin, 359 Hazel Ave., Highland Park, Ill.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>Time Trouble Answers Wanted</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>I have read your magazine for nearly two years, but this is +my first letter to the "Corner." The first and second +installments of Ray Cummings' "Exile of Time" prompted me to +write this. There is a story you can well be proud of. I +should like to obtain it in book form. Mr. Cummings is a +wonder. I have read many time stories, but his is at the top +of my list.</p> + +<p>If there is any other "time" fan in A. S.'s "Readers' +Corner" I should like to have a letter discussion on it with +him. None of my acquaintances care a whoop about that type +of story, so I have to thrash out all my problems by myself.</p> + +<p>There are some questions I would like to ask about "The +Exile of Time."</p> + +<p>1—In the event of the appearance of the time-traveling +cage, the story ran, to use Ray's own words: "Suddenly +before me there was a white ghost. A shape. A wraith of +something which a moment before had not been there. The +shape was like a mist. Then in a second or two it was +solid."</p> + +<p>Why should the cage appear as a mist at first? If there is +any amount of time separating two things, those two things +are invisible to each other, are they not? Any amount of +time would include a second, and even a millionth part of a +second. In that case, the cage should suddenly appear in the +twinkling of an eye, with no trace of a blur.</p> + +<p>2—Supposing I were standing at a spot five feet from a +time-traveling vehicle. The latter would be traveling +through time at 3 P. M., while I am at 2 P. M.—an hour's +difference between us. It would be invisible to me then, but +an hour later when I would be at 3 P. M. and the machine at +4 P. M., then I would see it as it appeared at 3 P. M. +Whatever movement it would make in space, I would not see +until an hour later. Is that right? Then is it not possible +that each individual is existing in a different time realm? +And we see them, or I see the other fellow as he appeared +when my time caught up with his? I had better quit before I +get hooted off the stage.</p> + +<p>3—If a man invented a time-traveler and went back to the +year of the beginning of the World War, knowing all he has +read in history, could he not take steps to prevent a war +that has already happened? Or would that power be denied +him? Somewhere in the story is said that the past cannot be +changed, and that any effort to do so would be useless. In +my belief, no matter where or when a man goes into the past, +if he appears in a year or day that has already gone by, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> +is changing the past. Then there should be no room for +doubt: time-travelling is impossible. It never will be done +(An Astounding Stories fan should be kicked for using the +word "impossible"!).</p> + +<p>Let's have more good thought-provoking time tales. And get +lots of stories from Cummings—he's a wow. I sure would like +to spend an evening at a campfire with him.—Allen Spoolman, +613—4th Avenue, W., Ashland, Wisc.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1">"<i>Eh, What?</i>"</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>Just got my June issue of our good mag, Astounding Stories, +and I think that it is great. One thing you should do, +however, is have a more mechanical cover design.</p> + +<p>In regard to Miss Gertrude Hemkin's letter in the June issue +of A. S., let me say that I just wonder what she would like +to expect in our "The Readers' Corner" if she does not like +to hear what others think of our Astounding Stories. Maybe +she would like to read about checker debates or the like. +Eh, what?</p> + +<p>If Rex Wertz of Oregon, who is now located somewhere in Los +Angeles, will drop me a line, perhaps we can become +acquainted as he suggested.—Edward Anderson, 123 Hollister +Ave., Ocean Park, Cal.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>Hope He Does</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>I have never been interested before in a magazine enough to +write to their departments, like "The Readers' Corner," and +I have read plenty of magazines.</p> + +<p>"Beyond the Vanishing Point" stands head and shoulders above +any story I have ever read. I have only one thing to say +about your other stories: they are almost as good as the one +I just mentioned.</p> + +<p>I have a few words to say about these people who throw +brickbats at every story they read. I wouldn't be surprised +if they just read the story so they could find something +wrong with it. There's one in particular who wrote a few +lines in the June issue about your taking the word "science" +off the front page, saying there was no science in the +magazine, anyway. What does the title say? Well that's what +90% of the Readers want, anyway. I hope that chap reads +this.</p> + +<p>Well, I'll sign off. Here is a little toast to the magazine: +"Long may it live."—Earl Rogers, 409—16th St., Galveston, +Tex.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>Two, Better Than One?</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>The two outstanding stories in the May issue of A. S. were +"The Death Cloud," by Nat Schachner and Arthur L. Zagat, and +"Dark Moon," by Charles W. Diffin. Common reasoning tells me +that the heads of two Science Fiction writers can formulate +a story better than one. I couldn't help admire Mr. +Schachner and Mr. Zagat when I read their story because of +the cleverness shown in it.</p> + +<p>Please give us a story by them every month.—Ray Y. Tilford, +Rockport, Ky.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1">"<i>And Here I Am</i>"</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>It's about time for me to concede that your or "our" +magazine is the best I have read. Ten issues have come into +my hands and I am perfectly well satisfied with the line of +fiction that you publish. I have read about fifty different +magazines on the market, and I am sure that Astounding +Stories is the best of them all. I have followed the +magazine for seven months and that is the best amount of +reading any magazine can boast for me. In your case, if the +magazine lasts seventy years, you can be sure that I will +read it for that period of time (provided I live that long).</p> + +<p>I notice that several brickbats have come into your hands +and that you have printed them. Well, that shows +sportsmanship on your part. I would suggest to those who are +not satisfied with Astounding Stories to duck their head in +a pail of water and pull it out after a period of ten +minutes. Those who criticize the stories because of the lack +of science have no idea what it takes to write a story. +Please be willing to concede the Author the right of way. He +is giving his theories and not yours. However, in some cases +where the truth is an established fact, I can see where the +Readers may present a justified argument. But they should +remember that we are not all perfect and that mistakes are +made by all. It is not fair to criticize an Author by +denouncing him.</p> + +<p>I don't favor reprints at all, but I can stay with the +majority if they do. It is a foregone conclusion that you +can fool some of the people some of the time, but you can't +fool all of the people all the time. In this case substitute +the word "please" in the saying for "fool."</p> + +<p>I am at present reading Charles W. Diffin's novel "The +Pirate Planet." It is one of the best interplanetary novels +that I have ever read. Give us some more of Diffin; he has +the goods. I must say that you have an immensely long list +of popular authors, and it must cost quite a little amount +of money to maintain them.</p> + +<p>Keep the size of the magazine as it is now; it fits +conveniently into my bookcase, and I believe many of your +Readers will say the same.</p> + +<p>Now some of my favorite stories. "The Ape-Men Of Xlotli" was +one of the best stories that I have read in years. Give us +some more along this line. It offers rest after one has just +finished reading an interplanetary novel.</p> + +<p>"Monsters of Moyen" was another story that I greatly +enjoyed. Very few<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> people believe that the world shall ever +have a conqueror again, and I am one of them; but it is +interesting to see if there ever will be a conqueror and +what means he shall employ to get that title.</p> + +<p>"Brigands of the Moon" was the worst story I read in your +magazine. That must have been Mr. Cummings' off story. But +he certainly has come back fine through his later stories.</p> + +<p>"The Tentacles from Below" was another great masterpiece. +Anthony Gilmore's tale was the first that I have read of +that author, and I will be delighted to see more.</p> + +<p>Funny how I developed into a Reader of Science Fiction. I +exhausted all other fields of reading, and having nothing +else to read I delved into a science magazine and here I +am.—Michael Racano, 51 Brookwood St., East Orange, N. J.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>Turns to It First</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>The June issue of Astounding Stories can't be beat. What an +issue! As it seems to be the usual thing, I'll start at the +front and go to the back.</p> + +<p>The cover: very colorful: another proof of Wesso's talent. +And speaking of artists, I was very pleasantly surprised at +the unexpected illustration by Paul. I certainly hope you +can get him, if not for cover pictures, at least for the +inside illustrations. (Too bad you are modest about printing +complimentary letters, for I mean this to be all roses, no +brickbats.)</p> + +<p>"The Man from 2071"—another good story of "John Hanson's." +"Manape the Mighty," although somewhat like the Tarzan +series, is a wonderfully fine story. "Holocaust"—good. "The +Earthman's Burden," as all of Starzl's, was exceptionally +good. "The Exile of Time"—getting better every issue.</p> + +<p>"The Readers' Corner" as usual was one of the most +interesting parts of the magazine. I always turn to it +first, for I know I will have an enjoyable time reading +every letter. And, by the way, the significance of "Manape" +just came to me. Don't know why I didn't see it +before.—Linus Hogenmiller, 502 N. Washington St., +Farmington, Mo.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>Likes the "Joke"</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>Although I have read only two issues of Astounding Stories, +I feel the urge to write a line. The June number was better +than the May issue. Arthur J. Burks' story, "Manape the +Mighty," was excellent, though I am not so strong for the +idea of having Barter escape the apes and carry on his +experiments as suggested by the Author. It would be against +common sense to have the apes allow him to make a getaway. +The prize winner in the May issue was "Dark Moon." There +might be a sequel to that, and I'd like to see it.</p> + +<p>I like a little variety in a magazine. The Readers who say +they do not care for stories scientifically impossible may +be right; in that case "The Exile of Time" is the greatest +joke ever written—yet I like it immensely. One thing that +is impossible is the destruction of matter. It can be broken +up, or condensed as in "When Caverns Yawned," but not +destroyed completely.</p> + +<p>Mr. W. H. Flowers evidently has a grudge against the fair +sex. The love interest is not necessary in short stories, +it's true; but what kind of a long novel would it be if the +hero had no incentive, nothing to risk his life for, except +a possible word of praise from the scientific world?</p> + +<p>No matter how much a man loves his work it is my opinion +that he would not die for the purpose of proving his point.</p> + +<p>Not being able to take a hint, the knockers still appear to +mar an otherwise perfect day—this time in the person of +Harry Pancoast. If Astounding Stories ever gets so bad that +not even one story in it is of interest to me—I'll just +drop out of the waiting line—and keep my mouth +closed.—Richard Waite, 8 South Ave., Warsaw, N. Y.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>Never Noticed That</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>Just bought my latest copy of Astounding Stories, and what +an edition! First, the cover (Wesso has all others beat by a +mile). Then, the stories. Well, take "Manape the Mighty": it +is one of the best Science Fiction stories I have ever read. +"The Exile of Time" was great.</p> + +<p>Have you ever noticed that almost every critic of Science +Fiction is either a teacher or a female? Jim Nicholson and I +certainly know that.—Billy Roche, Sec. Interplanetary Dept. +of the B. S. B., 101 St. Elmo, San Francisco, Cal.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>Sunflowers for All</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>Miracles do happen! I was never so thoroughly astounded in +all my life as when I received the great June issue of "our" +magazine with <i>straight</i> edges! Thank you and all concerned +for publishing "our" magazine sans rough edges. The smooth +edges ought to cut the reading time of Astounding Stories +down to an hour and forty-five minutes as we always used to +waste a lot of time fumbling about with the pages.</p> + +<p>But if I was astounded at the long awaited straight edges, I +was still more amazed at the great innovation of an +illustration by Paul! Let's have more and more of his +remarkable drawings. Astounding Stories is truly great now +with its fine Editor, splendid Authors, excellent stories, +worthy illustrations, essential "Readers' Corner," Paul +(Ah!) and good binding! Yes! You heard right! I said good +binding! Of course it makes amusing material to write about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> +the binding and remark that it comes off after once handling +it, or that the paper is soon worn to shreds, but such +matters shouldn't be honestly believed. I have every issue +of Astounding Stories (eighteen great numbers!) and each and +every issue is as good as new. I have never had any trouble +with the covers departing from the rest of the magazine or +the pages becoming moldy.</p> + +<p>Sewell Peaslee Wright's "The Man from 2071" is just perfect. +I enjoy nothing more than one of his realistic stories of +Commander John Hanson. We want more! Arthur J. Burks' +novelette, "Manape the Mighty," was clever. I had a +premonition that I wouldn't like this story, and in fact +told a friend so. It just goes to prove that hunches can be +wrong. Charles Willard Diffin should be proud of his +"Holocaust." I'm sure that most Readers enjoyed it as much +as I did. Of course, Starzl's "The Earthman's Burden" was a +peach. His stories of other planets are always weird, +bizarre, and yet they seem to ring true. That is the magic +of R. F. Starzl! Paul illustrated it in his own +unapproachable style. "The Exile of Time," as everyone +agrees, is Cummings' best. I am waiting for its thrilling +conclusion.</p> + +<p>I am one who would like Astounding Stories to be a large +size magazine, but it can easily be seen that everyone can't +be pleased. If you'll just leave it the way it is—i. e., +straight edges, illustrations by Paul, same authors and same +excellent Editor—I'll be satisfied.—Forrest J. Ackerman, +530 Staples Ave., San Francisco, Cal.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1">"<i>Great Relief</i>"</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>The story, "Manape the Mighty," by Arthur J. Burks, was by +far one of the most thrilling and educational stories that +ever appeared in Astounding Stories. Of course, others will +disagree, but an Author cannot please all. It is of great +relief to change from the monotonous every day kind of +stories that appear in Collier's, Liberty and The Saturday +Evening Post to the refreshing and soothing "impossible" +type of A. S.</p> + +<p>Ever since the January issue, I've been an ardent pursuer of +Astounding Stories. To me it is even more astounding that I +seem to like it more and more each succeeding issue. I find +it, undoubtedly, the best magazine of its type. I've tried +others of similar type, but it seems as if my mind couldn't +grasp the knack of their stories, which were either boresome +with scientific and technical explanations, or, as one might +say, "not a darn thing to them."</p> + +<p>R. F. Starzl is a wonderful author. Ray Cummings, Sewell +Peaslee Wright, Charles Willard Diffin, Captain S. P. Meek, +Edmond Hamilton, F. V. W. Mason and Murray Leinster are +excellent.</p> + +<p>There is one thing that I'd like to see in Astounding +Stories, and I'm sure many of the Readers would, too. It is +always my habit to read while eating. To finish the story in +time, I pick the shortest one. Sad to say, Astounding has +rather long stories. How about an occasional short story? +I'm sure your readers will approve. They would go over with +a bang!—P. Nikolaioff, 4325 S. Seeley Ave., Chicago, Ill.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>Sometimes Gets Mad</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>Although I have been an interested reader of Astounding +Stories since its inception, this is the first time I have +written. Astounding Stories have been so good lately that I +just had to write and compliment you on your good work. +There are, however, some criticisms I have to make. The +first is: I think Mr. W. H. Flowers of Pittsburgh, Pa, is +right when he says you sometimes have too much love in some +of your stories. The second is, I think it would be a good +thing to put notes at the end of a page to explain some of +the terms for the Readers who read mostly for the science +part. That is what I do, and I get mad when I read something +that does not give me the inside dope on it. Outside of that +I think Astounding Stories can't be beat.</p> + +<p>One more thing before I close. Keep Capt. S. P. Meek on your +staff or I will stop reading Astounding Stories, as much as +I would hate to do that. I think he is your best author by a +long shot.—Wilson Adams, Seat Pleasant, Md.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>From a "Female Woman"</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>The comment of Jim Nicholson in the June issue that it is +only "the females" who consider him "cracked" for reading +Science Fiction, and only women who do not care for science +in the stories, moves me to break into "The Readers' Corner" +for the first time.</p> + +<p>I happen to be a "female woman," and it is the men in our +family and circle of friends who laugh at me for buying +every Science Fiction magazine and book that I can find. +They call them my "nutty magazines." I have to admit that I +do not understand much of the scientific explanation, since +my mind does not run along mathematical or scientific lines, +but I do not mind having that in stories, for those who do +care for it and can understand it, as I can simply skip over +it, taking what I can grasp and letting the rest go. It +doesn't spoil the story for me.</p> + +<p>I have no criticism, constructive or otherwise, to make. I +enjoy the stories with some romance involved, and enjoy +those without equally well. My own preference would be that +you continue using rough paper and your present mechanical +construction, so that more money<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> will be available to pay +for the stories. Few of us keep the magazines anyway, so +there isn't so much need for expensive paper. I like +interplanetary stories best, I think; but I was intensely +interested in "Beyond the Vanishing Point," "Manape the +Mighty" and "Holocaust." All different, but all very good. I +can't remember one I did not like.</p> + +<p>My work requires much study and concentration. I have +recommended to several men who do similar mental work that +they follow my plan of securing delightful relaxation by +losing themselves in another world through Science Fiction +magazines. Most of them find it as restful as I +do.—Berenice M. Harrison, Angola, Ind.</p></div> + + +<p class="p1"><i>Likes R. F. Starzl</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Editor:</p> + +<p>It has been my purpose to write to you before, but due to an +extraordinary amount of detail work which I have had to do, +I have been unable to.</p> + +<p>I have read your marvelous magazine ever since the first +issue came into my hands, and I can honestly say that there +is no other book on the market which has held my attention +as long as yours has. I congratulate you on your very +interesting magazine.</p> + +<p>Arthur J. Burks, in his latest story, has conceived an +entirely new type of story, and I, for one, think it very +interesting. Plenty of science for the laymen and enough +interest for the others.</p> + +<p>I liked R. F. Starzl's story, "The Earthman's Burden," very +much, and I hope you will have more by this author soon. His +stories are perfect. Starzl is a deep thinker, and I am +right here to say that there is a man who understands men +and men's longings and inhibitions.—A. W. Gowing, 17 +Pasadena St., Springfield, Mass.</p></div> + + +<p>"<i>The Readers' Corner</i>"</p> + +<p>All readers are extended a sincere and cordial invitation to "come +over in 'The Readers' Corner'" and join in our monthly discussion of +stories, authors, scientific principles and possibilities—everything +that's of common interest in connection with our Astounding Stories.</p> + +<p>Although from time to time the Editor may make a comment or so, this +is a department primarily for Readers, and we want you to make full +use of it. Likes, dislikes, criticisms, explanations, roses, +brickbats, suggestions—everything's welcome here; so "come over in +'The Readers' Corner'" and discuss it with all of us!</p> + + +<p class="p2"><i>The Editor.</i></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>A LIVING, DISEMBODIED HEART</h3> +<p>A disembodied heart, not only still steadily beating but writing, as +it throbbed, a permanent, minutely precise record of its pulsations, +was exhibited recently at Princeton in a demonstration of the newest +instrument developed by science for the advancement of medicine and +psychology.</p> + +<p>The device, invented by A. L. Loomis of Tuxedo Park, N. Y., and +perfected in collaboration with Dr. Edmund N. Harvey, professor of +psychology at Princeton University, is called the Loomis chronograph.</p> + +<p>It will facilitate study of the phenomena of heart action and the +effect of drugs on that vital organ. The chronograph opens the way to +the accurate measuring and recording of the speed and variation of +human heart beats over long periods, even during the sleeping hours of +the subject, which is expected to prove of great value to +physiologists and criminologists.</p> + +<p>The heart of the recent demonstration was that of a turtle, removed +from the reptile while alive, freed of all extraneous tissue and +suspended in a physiological salt solution exactly duplicating body +conditions. In this state the organ continues to beat for thirty-six +hours, at the same time setting down, by means of the chronograph, a +graphic history of the approximately 72,000 pulsations it makes in +that time. With each beat the tiny organism pulled down a little lever +that dipped a fine filament into a drop of mercury and made a contact +that transmitted an electric impulse to the chronograph. There it was +translated to a fraction of a second into a record inked on a chart.</p> + +<p>Introduction into the solution of nicotine—one part in 10,000—and of +adrenalin—one part in a billion—was immediately noted by a marked +retarding of the heart tempo in the first case and swift acceleration +in the second.</p> + +<p>Use of the chronograph to study the action of any heart that can be +removed from the living body is possible, the scientist said, adding +that a comparatively simple adjustment will make possible recording of +the human heart by a device applied to the chest.</p> + +<p>Application of the instrument to tests of human nerve reactions and to +psychological tests is forecast.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Astounding Stories, August, 1931, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ASTOUNDING STORIES, AUGUST, 1931 *** + +***** This file should be named 33016-h.htm or 33016-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/0/1/33016/ + +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. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Astounding Stories, August, 1931 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: June 28, 2010 [EBook #33016] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ASTOUNDING STORIES, AUGUST, 1931 *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + ASTOUNDING + + STORIES + + 20c + + + _On Sale the First Thursday of Each Month_ + + + W. M. CLAYTON, Publisher + HARRY BATES, Editor + + +The Clayton Standard on a Magazine Guarantees + + _That_ the stories therein are clean, interesting, vivid, by leading + writers of the day and purchased under conditions approved by + the Authors' League of America; + + _That_ such magazines are manufactured in Union shops by American + workmen; + + _That_ each newsdealer and agent is insured a fair profit; + + _That_ an intelligent censorship guards their advertising pages. + + +_The other Clayton magazines are:_ + +ACE-HIGH MAGAZINE, RANCH ROMANCES, COWBOY STORIES, CLUES, FIVE-NOVELS +MONTHLY, ALL STAR DETECTIVE STORIES, RANGELAND LOVE STORY MAGAZINE, +WESTERN ADVENTURES, WESTERN LOVE STORIES and JUNGLE STORIES. + +_More than Two Million Copies Required to Supply the Monthly Demand +for Clayton Magazines._ + + * * * * * + + + + +VOL. VII, No. 2 CONTENTS AUGUST, 1931 + + +THE DANGER FROM THE DEEP RALPH MILNE FARLEY 149 + + _Marooned on the Sea-Floor, His Hoisting Cable Cut, Young Abbot Is + Left at the Mercy of the Man-Sharks._ + +BROOD OF THE DARK MOON CHARLES WILLARD DIFFIN 168 + + _Once More Chet, Walt and Diane Are United in a Wild Ride to the Dark + Moon. But This Time They Go as Prisoners of Their Deadly Enemy + Schwartzmann._ (Beginning a Four-Part Novel.) + +IF THE SUN DIED R. F. STARZL 198 + + _Tens of Millenniums After the Death of the Sun There Comes a Young + Man Who Dares to Open the Frozen Gate of Subterranea._ + +THE MIDGET FROM THE ISLAND H. G. WINTER 214 + + _Garth Howard, Prey to Half the Animals of the Forest, Fights Valiantly + to Regain His Lost Five Feet of Size._ (A Complete Novelette.) + +THE MOON WEED HARL VINCENT 236 + + _Unwittingly the Traitor of the Earth, Van Pits Himself Against the + Inexorably Tightening Web of Plant-Beasts He Has Released from the + Moon._ + +THE PORT OF MISSING PLANES CAPTAIN S. P. MEEK 255 + + _In the Underground Caverns of the Selom, Dr. Bird Once Again Locks + Wills with the Subversive Genius, Saranoff._ + +THE READERS CORNER ALL OF US 273 + + _A Meeting Place for Readers of Astounding Stories_ + + * * * * * + +Single Copies, 20 Cents (In Canada, 25 Cents) Yearly Subscription, $2.00 + +Issued monthly by The Clayton Magazines, Inc., 80 Lafayette Street, +New York, N. Y. W. M. Clayton, President; Francis P. Pace, Secretary. +Entered as second-class matter December 7, 1929, at the Post Office at +New York, N. Y., under Act of March 3, 1879. Title registered as a +Trade Mark in the U. S. Patent Office. Member Newsstand Group. For +advertising rates address The Newsstand Group, Inc., 80 Lafayette +Street, New York; or The Wrigley Bldg., Chicago. + + * * * * * + + + + +The Danger from the Deep + +_By Ralph Milne Farley_ + +[Illustration: _He caught a glimpse of the grinning fish-face._] + + +[Sidenote: Marooned on the sea-floor, his hoisting cable cut, young +Abbot is left at the mercy of the man-sharks.] + +Within a thick-walled sphere of steel eight feet in diameter, with +crystal-clear fused-quartz windows, there crouched an alert young +scientist, George Abbot. The sphere rested on the primeval muck and +slime at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, one mile beneath the +surface. + +The beam from his 200-watt searchlight, which shot out through one of +his three windows into the dark blue depths beyond, seemed faint +indeed, yet it served to illuminate anything which crossed it, or on +which it fell. + +For a considerable length of time since his descent to the ocean +floor, young Abbot had clung to one of the thick windows of his +bathysphere, absorbed by the marine life outside. Slender small fish +with stereoscopic eyes, darted in and out of the beam of light. +Swimming snails floated by, carrying their own phosphorescent +lanterns. Paper-thin transparent crustaceans swam into view, followed +by a few white shrimps, pale as ghosts. Then a mist of tiny fish swept +across his field of vision. Abbot cupped his face in his hands, and +stared out. + +The incongruous thought flashed across his mind that thus he had often +sat by the window of his club in New York, and gazed out at the +passing motor traffic. + +His searchlight cut a sharp swath through the blue muck. More than +once he thought he saw large moving fish-like forms far away. + +"Speed up the generator," he called into his phone. + +Immediately the shaft of light brightened. He set about trying to +focus upon one of those dim elusive shapes which had so intrigued him. + + * * * * * + +But suddenly the searchlight went out! Intent on repairing the +apparatus as rapidly as possible, Abbot snapped the button-switch, +which ought to have illuminated the interior of his diving-sphere; but +the lights did not go on. Then he noticed that the electric fan, on +which he depended to keep his air-supply properly mixed, had stopped. + +He spoke into the telephone transmitter, which hung in front of his +mouth: "Hi, there, up on the boat! My electric power is cut off. I'm +down here with my fan stopped and my heat cut off. Hoist me up, and be +quick about it!" + +"O.K., sir." + +As the young man waited for the winch to get under way on the boat a +mile above him, he pulled out his electric pocket flashlight and sent +its feeble ray out through his quartz-glass window into the dim +royal-purple depths beyond, in one last attempt to get a look at those +mysterious fish-shapes which had so intrigued him. + +And then he saw one of them distinctly. + +Evidently they had swum closer when the glow of his searchlight had +stopped; and so the sudden flash of his pocket-light had taken them by +surprise. + +For, as he snapped it on, he caught an instant's glimpse of a grinning +fish-face pressed close against the outside of his thick window-pane, +as though trying to peer in at him. The fish-face somewhat resembled +the head of a shark, except that the mouth was a bit smaller and not +quite so leeringly brutal, and the forehead was rather high and domed. + +But what most attracted Abbot's attention, in the brief instant before +the startled fish whisked away in a swirl of phosphorescent foam, was +the fact that, from beneath each of the two pectoral fins, there +protruded what appeared to be a skinny human arm, terminating in three +fingers and a thumb! + +Then the fish was gone. Abbot snapped off his little light. + +The diving-sphere quivered, as the hoisting-cable tautened. But +suddenly the sphere settled back to the bottom of the sea with a +jarring thud. "Cable's parted, sir!" spoke a frantic voice in his +ear-phones. + + * * * * * + +For a moment George Abbot sat stunned with horror. Then his mind began +to race, like a squirrel in a cage, seeking some way of escape. + +Perhaps he could manage to unscrew the 400-pound trap door at the top +of the sphere, and shoot to the surface, with the bubbling-out of the +confined air. But his scientifically trained mind made some rapid +calculations which showed him this was absurd. + +At the depth of a mile, the pressure is roughly 156 atmospheres, that +is to say, 156 times the air-pressure at the surface of the earth; and +the moment that his sphere was opened to this pressure, he would be +blown back inwardly away from the man-hole, and the air inside his +sphere would suddenly be compressed to only 1/156 of its former +volume. + +Not only would this pressure be sufficient to squash him into a +mangled pulp, but also the sudden compression of the air inside the +sphere would generate enough heat to fry that mangled pulp to a crisp +cinder almost instantly. + +As George Abbot came to a full realization of the horror of these +facts, he recoiled from the trap-door as though it were charged with +death. + +"For Heaven's sakes, do something!" he shrieked in agony into the +transmitter. + +"Courage, sir," came back the reply. "We are rigging up a grapple just +as fast as we can. Long before your oxygen gives out, we shall slide +it down to you along the telephone line, which is the only remaining +connection between us. When it settles about your sphere, and you can +see its hooks outside your window by the light of your pocket-flash, +let us know, and we'll trip the grapple and haul you up." + +"Thank you," replied the young man. + + * * * * * + +He was calm now, but it was an enforced and numb kind of calmness. +Mechanically he throttled down his oxygen supply, so as to make it +last longer. Mechanically he took out his notebook and pencil and +started to write down, in the dark, his experiences; for he was +determined to leave a full account for posterity, even though he +himself should perish. + +After setting down a categorical description of the successive +partings of the electric light cable and the hoist cable, and his +thoughts and feelings in that connection, he described in detail the +shark with hands, which he had seen through the window of his sphere. +He tried to be very explicit about this, for he realized that his +account would probably be laid, by everyone, to the disordered +imagination of his last dying moments; being a true scientist, George +Abbot wanted the world to believe him, so that another sphere would be +built and sent down to the ocean depths, to find out more about these +peculiar denizens of the deep. + +Of course, no one would believe him. This thought kept drumming in his +ears. No one--except Professor Osborne. Old Osborne would believe! + +George Abbot's mind flashed back to a conversation he had had with the +old professor, just before the oil interests had sent him on this +exploring trip to discover the source of the large quantities of +petroleum which had begun to bubble up from the bottom of a certain +section of the Pacific very near where Abbot now was. + + * * * * * + +Osborne had said, "This petroleum suggests a gusher to me. And what +causes gushers? Human beings, boring for oil, to satisfy human needs." + +"But, Professor," Abbot had objected, "there can't be any human beings +at the bottom of the sea!" + +"Why not?" Professor Osborne had countered. "Life is supposed to have +originated spontaneously in the slime of the ocean depths; therefore +that part of the earth has had a head-start on us in the game of +evolution. May not this head-start have been maintained right down to +date, thus producing at the bottom of the sea a race superior to +anything upon the dry land?" + +"But," Abbot had objected further, "if so, why haven't they come up to +visit or conquer us? And why haven't we ever found any trace of them?" + +"Quite simple to explain," the old professor had replied. "Any +creature who can live at the frightful pressures of the ocean depths +could never survive a journey even halfway to the surface. It would be +like our trying to live in an almost perfect vacuum. We should +explode, and so would these denizens of the deep, if they tried to +come up here. Even one of their dead bodies could not be brought to +the surface in recognizable form. No contact with them will ever be +possible, nor will they ever constitute a menace to any one--for which +we may thank the Lord!" + +George Abbot now reviewed this conversation as he crouched in his +diving-sphere in the purple darkness of the marine depths. Yes, old +Osborne would believe him. The diary must be written for Osborne's +eyes. + + * * * * * + +Abbot sent another beam from his pocket light suddenly out into the +water; and this time he surprised several of the peculiar fish. These, +like the first, had arms and hands and high intelligent foreheads. + +Then suddenly Abbot laughed a harsh laugh. Old Osborne had been wrong +in one thing, namely in saying that the super-race of the deep would +never be a menace to anyone. They were being a menace to George Abbot, +right now, for it was undoubtedly they who had cut his cables. +Probably they were possessed of much the same scientific curiosity +with regard to him as he was with regard to them, and so they had +determined to secure him as a museum specimen. + +The idea was a weird one. He laughed again, mirthlessly. + +"What is the matter, sir?" came an anxious voice in his ear-phones. + +"Hurry that grapple!" was his reply. "I have found out what cut my +cables. There are some very intelligent-looking fish down here, and I +think they want me for--" + +An ominous click sounded in his ears. Then silence. + +"Hello! Hello there!" he shouted. "Can you hear me up on the boat?" + +But no answer came back. The line remained dead. The strange fish had +cut George Abbot's last contact with the upper world. The +grapple-hooks could never find him now, for there was now not even a +telephone cable to guide them down to his sphere. + +The realization that he was hopelessly lost, and that he had not much +longer to live, came as a real relief to him, after the last few +moments of frantic uncertainty. + + * * * * * + +Hoping that his sphere would eventually be found, even though too late +to do him any good, he set assiduously to work jotting down all the +details which he could remember of those strange denizens of the deep, +the man-handed sharks, which he was now firmly convinced were the +cause of his present predicament. + +He stared out through one of his windows into the brilliant blue +darkness, but did not turn on his flashlight. How near were these +enemies of his, he wondered? + +The presence of those menacing man-sharks, just outside the +four-inch-thick steel shell, which withstood a ton of pressure for +each square inch of its surface, began to obsess young Abbot. What +were they doing out there in the watery-blue midnight? Perhaps, having +secured his sphere as a scientific specimen, they were already +preparing to cut into it so as to see what was inside. That these +fish could cut through four inches of steel was not so improbable as +it sounded, for had they not already succeeded in severing a rubber +cable an inch and a half thick, containing two heavy copper wires, and +also two inches of the finest, non-kinking steel rope! + +The young scientist flashed his pocket torch out through the thick +quartz pane, but his enemies were nowhere in sight. Then he fell to +calculating his oxygen supply. His normal consumption was about half a +quart per minute, at which rate his two tanks would be good for +thirty-six hours. His chemical racks contained enough soda-lime to +absorb the excess carbon dioxide, enough calcium chloride to keep down +the humidity and enough charcoal to sweeten the body odors for much +more than that period. + +For a moment, the thought of these facts encouraged him. He had been +down less than two hours. Perhaps the boat above him could affect his +rescue in the more than thirty-four hours which remained! + + * * * * * + +But then he realized that he had failed to take into consideration the +near-freezing temperature of the ocean depths. This temperature he +knew to be in the neighborhood of 39 degrees Fahrenheit--even though +no thermometer hung outside his window, as none could withstand the +frightful pressures at the bottom of the sea. For it is one of the +remarkable facts of inductive science that man has been able to figure +out _a priori_ that the temperature at all deep points of the ocean, +tropic as well as arctic, must always be stable at approximately 39 +degrees. + +Abbot was clad only in a light cotton sailor suit, and now that his +source of heat had been cut off by the severing of his power lines, +his prison was rapidly becoming unbearably chilly. His thick steel +sphere constituted such a perfect transmitter of heat that he might +almost as well have been actually swimming in water of 39 degrees +temperature, so far as comfort was concerned. + +Abbot's emotions ran all the gamut from stupefaction, through dull +calmness, clear-headed thought, intense but aimless mental activity, +nervousness, frenzy, and insane delirium, back to stupefaction again. + +During one of his periods of calmness, he figured out what an almost +total impossibility there was of the chance that his ship, one mile +above him on the surface, could ever find his sphere with grappling +hooks. Yet he prayed for that chance. A single chance in a million +sometimes does happen. + + * * * * * + +Several hours had by now elapsed since the parting of the young +scientist's cables. It was bitterly cold inside the sphere. In order +to keep warm, he had to exercise during his calm moments as +systematically as his cramped quarters would permit. During his +frantic moments he got plenty of exercise automatically. And of course +all this movement used up more than the normal amount of oxygen, so +that he was forced to open the valves on his tanks to two or three +times their normal flow. His span of further life was thereby cut to +ten or twelve hours, if indeed he could keep himself warm for that +long. + +Why didn't the people on the boat do something! + +He was just about to indulge in one of his frantic fits of despair, +when he heard or felt--the two senses being strangely commingled in +his present situation--a clank or thump upon the top of his +bathysphere. Instantly hope flooded him. Could it be that the one +chance in a million had actually happened, and that a grapple from the +boat above had actually found him? + +With feverish expectation, he pressed the button of his little +electric pocket flashlight, and sent its feeble beam out through one +of the quartz-glass windows into the blue-black depths beyond. + +No hooks in front of this window. He tried the others. No hooks there, +either. But he did see plenty of the superhuman fish. Eighteen of +them, he counted, in sight at one time. And also two huge snake-like +creatures with crested backs and maned heads, veritable sea-serpents. + +As there was nothing the young man could do to assist in the grappling +of his sphere by his friends in the boat above, he devoted his time to +jotting down a detailed description of these two new beasts and of +their behavior. + +One of the sharks appeared to be leading or driving them up to the +bathysphere; and when they got close enough, Abbot was surprised to +see that they wore what appeared to be a harness! + + * * * * * + +The clanking upon the bathysphere continued, and now the young man +learned its cause. It was not the grapple hooks from his ship, but +chains--chains which the man-armed sharks were wrapping around the +bathysphere. + +Two more of the harnessed sea-serpents swam into view, and these two +were hitched to a flat cart: an actual cart with wheels. The chains +were attached to the harness of the original two beasts; they swam +upward and disappeared from view; and the sphere slowly rose from the +mucky bottom of the sea, to be lowered again squarely on top of the +cart. The cart jerked forward, and a journey over the ocean floor +began. + +Then the little pocket torch dimmed to a dull red glow, and the scene +outside faded gradually from view. Abbot switched off the now useless +light and set to work with scientific precision to record all these +unbelievable events. + +In his interest and excitement, he had forgotten the ever-increasing +cold; but gradually, as he wrote, the frigidity of his surroundings +was forced on his consciousness. He turned on more oxygen, and +exercised frantically. Meanwhile the cart, carrying his bathysphere, +bumped along over an uneven road. + +From time to time, he tried his almost exhausted little light, but its +dim red beam was completely absorbed by the blue of the ocean depths, +and he could make out nothing except two bulking indistinct shapes, +writhing on ahead of him. Finally even this degree of visibility +failed, and he could see absolutely nothing outside. + +He was now so chilled and numb that he could no longer write. With a +last effort, he noted down that fact, and then put the book away in +its rack. + +He began to feel drowsy. Rousing himself, he turned on more oxygen. +The effect was exhilaration and a feeling of silly joy. He began to +babble drunkenly to himself. His head swam. His mind was in a daze. + + * * * * * + +It seemed hours later when he awoke. Ahead of him in the distance +there was a dim pale-blue light, against which there could be seen, in +silhouette, the forms of the two serpentine steeds and their fish-like +drivers. Abbot's hands and feet were completely numb, but his head was +clear. + +As they drew nearer to the light, it gradually took form, until it +turned out to be the mouth of a cave. The cart entered it. + +Down a long tunnel they progressed, the light getting brighter and +brighter as they advanced. The color of the light became a golden +green. The rough stone walls of the tunnel could now be seen; and +finally there appeared, ahead, two semicircular doors, swung back +against the sides of the passage. + +Beyond these doors, the tunnel walls were smooth and exactly +cylindrical, and on the ceiling there were many luminous tubes, which +lit up the place as brightly as daylight. The cart came to a stop. + +The young scientist could now see with surprising distinctness his +captors and their serpentine steeds, and even the details of the +chains and the harness. He tried to pick up his diary, so as to jot +down some points which he had theretofore missed; but his hands were +too numb. But at least he could keep on observing; so he glued his +eyes to the thick quartz window-pane once more. + +A short distance ahead in the passage there was another pair of doors. +Presently these swung open and the cavalcade moved forward. Five or +six successive pairs of doors were passed in this manner, and then the +sea-serpents began to thrash about and become almost unmanageable. It +was evident that some change not to their liking had taken place in +their surroundings. + + * * * * * + +At last, as one of the portals swung open, young Abbot saw what +appeared to be four deep-sea diving-suits. Could these suits contain +human beings? And if so, who? It seemed incredible, for no diving-suit +had ever been devised in which a man could descend to the depth of one +mile, and live. + +These four figures, whatever they were, came stolidly forward and took +charge of the cart. One of the sharks swam up to them and appeared to +talk to them with its hands. Then the sharks unhitched the two +sea-serpents and led them to the rear, and Abbot saw them no more. + +The four divers picked up the chains, and slowly towed the cart +forward, their clumsy, ponderous movements contrasting markedly with +the swift and sure swishings which had characterized the man-sharks +and their snake-like steeds. + +Several more pairs of doors were passed, and then there met them four +figures in less cumbersome diving-suits, like those ordinarily used by +men just below the surface of the sea. One of the deep-sea divers then +pressed his face close to the outside of one of the windows of the +bathysphere, as though to take a look inside; but the four newcomers +waved him away, and hurriedly picked up the chains. Nevertheless, in +that brief instant, Abbot had seen within the head-piece of the diver +what appeared to be a bearded human face. + +Several more pairs of doors were passed. The four deep-sea divers +floundered along beside the cart, quite evidently having more and more +difficulty of locomotion as each successive doorway was passed, until +finally they lay down and were left behind. + +At last the procession entered a section of tunnel which was square, +instead of circular, and in which there was a wide shelf along one +side about three feet above the floor. The four divers then dropped +the chains, and one by one took a look at Abbot through his window. + +And he at the same time took a most interested look at them. + +They had unmistakable human faces! + + * * * * * + +He must be dreaming! For even if Osborne was right about his supposed +super-race at the bottom of the sea, this race could not be human, for +the pressures here would be entirely too great. No human being could +possibly stand two thousand pounds per square inch! + +Having satisfied their curiosity, the four divers pulled themselves up +onto the shelf, and sat there in a row with their legs hanging over. + +Abbot glanced upward at the ceiling lights, but these had become +strangely blurred. There seemed to be an opaque barrier above him, and +this barrier seemed to be slowly descending. The lights blurred out +completely, and were replaced by a diffused illumination over the +entire ripply barrier. And then it dawned on the young man that this +descending sheet of silver was the surface of the water. He was in a +lock, and the water was being pumped out. + +The surface settled about the helmets of the divers, and their helmets +disappeared; then their shoulders and the rest of them. At last it +reached the level of Abbot's window. The divers could again be seen, +and among then on the shelf there stood a half dozen naked bearded +men, clad only in loin-cloths. They had evidently entered the lock +while the water was subsiding. + + * * * * * + +These men unbuckled the helmets of the divers and helped them out, and +then splashed down into the water and peered in through the windows of +the bathysphere. Presently some of them left through a door at the end +of the platform, but soon reappeared with staging, which they set up +around the sphere. Then, climbing on top, they got to work on the +man-hole cover. + +As George Abbot realized their purpose, he became frantic. Although +these men appeared to be human, just like himself, yet his +scientifically-trained mind told him that they must be of some very +special anatomical structure, in order to be able to withstand the +immense pressures at the bottom of the Pacific. It was all right for +them to be out there, but it would be fatal to him! + +And then the heavy circular door above him began slowly to revolve. + +This was terrible! In a moment the crushing pressures of the depths +would come seeping in. Rising unsteadily upon his knees, the young man +tried with his fingers to resist the rotation of the door; but it +continued to turn. + +Yet no pressure could be felt. The door became completely unscrewed. +It was pried up, and slid off the top of the bathysphere, to crash +upon the floor outside. Inquisitive bearded faces peered down through +the hole. + +Young Abbot slumped to the cold bottom of the sphere and stared back +at them. He was saved; incredibly saved! These were real people, the +air was real air and he must therefore be on the surface of the earth, +instead of at the bottom of the Pacific as he had imagined! With a +sigh of relief, he fainted.... + + * * * * * + +When he came to his senses again, he was lying in a bed in a small +room. Bending over him was the sweetest feminine face that he had ever +seen. + +The girl seemed to be about twenty years of age. She was clad in a +clinging robe of some filmy green substance. Her hair was honey-brown, +short and curly, and her forehead high and intelligent. Her eyes, an +indescribable shade of deep violet, were matchlessly set off by her +ivory skin. + +The young man smiled up at her, and she smiled back. Thus far it had +not occurred to him to wonder where he was, or why. No recollection of +his recent strange adventures came to him. To him this was an exotic +dream, from which he did not care to awake. + +She spoke. Her words were unintelligible, and unlike any language +which George Abbot knew or had even heard; and he was an accomplished +linguist in addition to his other attainments. + +And her words were not all that was strange about her speech, for the +very tones of her voice sounded completely unhuman, although not +displeasing. Her talk had a metallic ring to it, like the brassy blare +of temple gongs, and yet was so smooth and subdued as to be sweeter +than any sound that the young scientist had ever heard before. + +"Beautiful dream fairy," replied the enraptured young man, "I haven't +the slightest idea what you are saying, but keep right on. I like it." + +His own voice sounded crass and crude compared to hers. At his first +words she gave a start of surprise, but thereafter the sound did not +appear to grate on her ears. + + * * * * * + +Then one of the bearded men in loin-cloths entered, and he and the +girl talked together, quite evidently about their patient. The man's +voice had the same strange metallic quality to it as that of the girl, +but was deeper, so that it boomed with the rich notes of a bell. + +At the sight of the man, young Abbot's memory swept back, and he +remembered the adventure of his diving-sphere, and its capture, one +mile down, by the strange shark-fish with human hands and arms. But +how he had reached the surface of the earth again, he couldn't figure +out. Nor did he particularly care. + +The strange man withdrew, and the girl sat down beside the bed and +smiled at Abbot. He smiled back at her. + +Presently another girl entered and called, "Milli!" + +The girl beside the bed started, and looking up asked some question, +to which the other replied. + +The newcomer brought in some strange warm food in a covered dish and +then withdrew. The first girl proceeded to feed her patient. + +After the meal, which tasted unlike anything which the young man had +ever eaten before, the beautiful nurse again essayed conversation with +him. She seemed perplexed and a bit frightened that he could not +understand her words. Somehow, the young man sensed that this girl had +never heard any other language than her own, and that she did not even +know that other languages existed. + + * * * * * + +Strengthened by his food, he determined to set about learning her +language as soon as possible. So he pointed at her and asked, "Milli?" + +She nodded, and spoke some word which he took for "yes." + +Then he pointed to himself and said, "George." + +She understood, but the word was a difficult one for her to duplicate +in the metallic tongue of her people. She made several attempts, until +he laughingly spoke her word for "yes." + +Then he pointed to other objects about the room. She gave him the +names of these, but he could easily see that she felt that, if he did +not know the names for all these common things, there must be +something the matter with him. + +He wondered how he could make her understand that there were other +languages in the world than her own; and then he remembered the sharks +with their hands and what he had taken to be their sign language. +Perhaps Milli at least knew of the existence of the sign language. +This would afford a parallel; for if she realized that there were two +languages in the world, might there not be three? + +So Abbot made some meaningless signs with his fingers. Milli quite +evidently was accustomed to this kind of talk, but she was further +perplexed to find that George talked gibberish with his hands as well +as with his mouth. + +She made some signs with her hands, and then said something orally. +Young Abbot instantly pointed to her mouth, and held up one finger; +then to her hands, and held up two; then to his own mouth, and held up +three, at the same time speaking a sentence of English. Instantly she +caught on: there were three languages in the world. And thereafter she +no longer regarded him as crazy. + +For several hours she taught him. Then another meal was brought, after +which she left him, and the lights went out. + + * * * * * + +He awakened feeling thoroughly rested and well. The lights were on and +Milli was beside him. + +He asked for his clothes. They were brought. Milli withdrew and he put +them on. + +After breakfast, which they ate together, one of the bearded men came +and led him out through a number of winding corridors into a larger +room, in which there was a closed spherical glass tank, about ten feet +in diameter, containing one of the human sharks. Around the tank stood +five of the bearded men. + +One of them proceeded to address Abbot, but of course the young +American could not make out what he was saying. This apparent lack of +intelligence seemed to exasperate the man; and finally he turned +toward the tank, and engaged in a sign language conference with the +fish; then turned back to Abbot again and spoke to him very sternly. + +But Abbot shook his head and replied, "Milli. Bring Milli." + +One of the other men flashed a look of triumph at their leader, and +laughed. + +"Yes," he added, "bring Milli." + +The leader scowled at him, and some words were interchanged, but it +ended in Milli being sent for. She apparently explained the situation +to the satisfaction of the fish, to the intense glee of the man who +had sent for her, and to the rather complete discomfiture of the +leader of the five. + +Abbot later learned that the leader's name was Thig, and that the name +of the gleeful man was Dolf. + +The reception over, Milli led Abbot back to his room. + + * * * * * + +There ensued many days--very pleasant days--of language instruction +from Milli. Dolf and Thig and others of the five came frequently, to +note his progress and to talk with him and ask him questions. + +A sitting room was provided for him, adjoining his sleeping quarters. +Milli occupied quarters nearby. + +Within a week he had mastered enough of the language of these people, +for their strange history began to be intelligible to him. + +In spite of the fact that the air here was at merely atmospheric +pressure, nevertheless this place was one mile beneath the surface of +the Pacific. Milli and her people lived in a city hollowed out of a +reef of rocks, reinforced against the terrific weight of the water and +filled with laboratory-made air. They had never been to the surface of +the sea. + +The fish with the human arms were their creators and their masters. + +Professor Osborne had been right. The fish of the deep, having a head +start on the rest of the world, had evolved to a perfectly +unbelievable degree of intelligence. Centuries ago they had built for +themselves the exact analog of George Abbot's bathysphere, and in it +they had made much the same sort of exploring trips to the surface +that he had made down into the deeps. But their spheres had been +constructed to keep in, rather than to keep out, great pressure. + +Their scientists had gathered a wealth of data as to conditions on the +surface, and had even seen and studied human beings. But their +insatiable scientific curiosity had led them to want to know more +about the strange country above them and the strange persons who +inhabited it. And so they set about breeding, in their own +laboratories, creatures which should be as like as possible to those +whom they had observed on the surface. + + * * * * * + +Of course, this experiment necessitated their first setting up an +air-filled partial vacuum similar to that which surrounds the earth. +But they had persisted. They had brought down samples of air from the +surface of the sea, and had analyzed and duplicated it on a large +scale. + +Finally, through long years, they had so directed--and controlled the +course of evolution, in their breederies, as first to be able to +produce creatures which could live in air at low pressures, and then +to evolve the descendants of those creatures into intelligent human +beings. + +Some of the lower types of this evolutionary process, both in the +direct line of descent of man, and among the collateral offshoots, had +been retained for food and other purposes. Abbot, with intense +scientific interest, studied these specimens in the zoo of the +underwater city where he was staying. + +Plans had been in progress for some time, among the fish-folk and +their human subjects, to send an expedition to the surface. And now +the shark masters had fortunately been able to secure alive an actual +specimen of the surface folk--namely, George Abbot. The expedition was +accordingly postponed until they could pump out of the young scientist +all the information possible. + +Abbot was naturally overjoyed at the prospect. This would not only get +him out of here--but think what it would mean to science! + +The plans of the sharks were entirely peaceful. Furthermore there were +only about two hundred of their laboratory-bred synthetic human +beings, and so these could constitute no menace to mankind. +Accordingly he enthusiastically assured them that they could depend +upon the hearty cooperation of the scientists of the outer earth. + + * * * * * + +During all his stay so far in this cave city, Abbot had been permitted +to come in contact only with Milli, the members of the Committee of +Five, and an occasional guard or laboratory assistant. Yet, in spite +of the absence of personal contacts with other members of this strange +race, Abbot was constantly aware of a background of many people and +tense activity, which kept the wheels of industry and domestic economy +turning in this undersea city. + +Although the young man readily accustomed himself to the speech and +food and customs of this strange race, his personal modesty and +neatness revolted at the loin-cloths and beards of the men; and so, by +special dispensation, he was permitted to wear his sailor suit and to +shave. + +The Committee of Five, who constituted a sort of ruling body for the +city, interviewed him at length, cross-examined him most skilfully and +took copious notes. But there seemed to be a strange lack of common +meeting ground between their minds and his, so that very often they +were forced to call on Milli to act as an intermediary. The beautiful +young girl seemed able to understand both George Abbot and the leaders +of her own people with equal facility. + +A number of specially constructed submarines had already been built to +carry the expedition to the surface. Before it came time to use them, +Abbot tried to paint as glowing a picture as possible of life on +earth; but he found it necessary to gloss over a great many things. +How could he explain and justify war, liquor, crime, poverty, graft, +and the other evils to which constant acquaintance has rendered the +human race so calloused? + + * * * * * + +He was unable to deceive the men of the deep. With their +super-intelligence, they relentlessly unearthed from him all the +salient facts. And, as a result of their discoveries, their initial +friendly feeling for the world of men rapidly developed into supreme +contempt. + +But Abbot on the other hand developed a deep respect for them. Their +chemistry and their electrical and mechanical devices amazed and +astounded him. They even were able to keep sun-time and tell the +seasons, by means of gyroscopes! + +Age was measured much as it is on the surface. This fact was brought +to Abbot's attention by the approach of Milli's twentieth birthday. + +Strange to relate, she seemed to dread the approach of that +anniversary, and finally told Abbot the reason. + +"It is the custom," said she, "when a girl or a boy reaches twenty, to +give a very rigorous intelligence test. In fact, such a test is given +on every birthday, but the one on the twentieth is the hardest. So +far, I have just barely passed each test, which fact marks me as of +very low mentality indeed. And, if I fail _this_ time, they will kill +me, so as to make room for others who have a better right to live." + +"Impossible!" exclaimed the young man indignantly. "Why, you have a +better mind than those of many of the leading scientists of the outer +world!" + +"All the same," she gloomily replied, "it is way below standard for +down here." + + * * * * * + +On the day of the test, he did his best to cheer her up. Dolf also +came--she seemed to be an especial protege of his--and gave her his +encouragement. He had been coaching her heavily for the examinations +for some time previous. + +But later in the day she returned in tears to report to Abbot that she +had failed, and had only twenty-four hours to live. Before he realized +what he was doing, Abbot had seized her in his arms, and was pouring +out to her a love which up to that moment he had not realized +existed. + +Finally her sobbing ceased, and she smiled through her tears. + +"George, dear," said she, "it is worth dying, to know that you care +for me like this." + +"I won't let them kill you!" asserted the young man belligerently. +"They owe me something for the assistance which I am to give them on +their expedition. I shall demand your life as the price of my +cooperation. Besides, you are the only one of all your people who has +brains enough to understand what I tell them about the outer earth. It +is they who are weak-minded; not you!" + +But she sadly shook her head. + +"It would never do for you to sponsor me," said she, "for it would +alienate my one friend in power, Dolf. He loves me; no, don't scowl, +for I do not love him. But, for the safety of both of us, we must not +let him know of our love--yet." + +"'Yet'?" exclaimed Abbot, "when you have less than a day to live?" + +"You have given me hope," the girl replied, "and also an idea. Dolf +promised to appeal to the other members of the Five. I have just +thought of a good ground for his appeal; namely, my ability to +translate your clumsy description into a form suited to the high +intelligence of our superiors." + +"'Clumsy'?" exclaimed the young man, a bit nettled. + +"Oh, pardon me, dear. I'm so sorry," said she contritely. "I didn't +mean to let it slip. And now I must rush to Dolf and tell him my +idea." + +"Don't let him make love to you, though!" admonished Abbot gloomily. + +She kissed him lightly, and fled. + + * * * * * + +A half hour later she was back, all smiles. The idea had gone across +big. Dolf, as the leader of the projected expedition, had demanded +that Milli be brought along as liaison officer between them and their +guide; and the other four committeemen had reluctantly acceded. The +execution was accordingly indefinitely postponed. + +The young couple spent the evening making happy plans for their life +together on the outer earth, for as soon as they should arrive in +America, Dolf would have no further hold over them. + +The next day, the Committee of Five announced that, for a change, they +were going to give George Abbot an intelligence test. He had +represented himself as being one of the scientists of the outer earth; +accordingly, they could gauge the caliber of his fellow countrymen by +determining his I. Q. + +Milli was quite agitated when this program was announced, but the +ordeal held no terrors for George Abbot. Had he not taken many such +tests on earth and passed them easily? + +So he appeared before the Committee of Five with a rather cocky air. +He had yet to see an intelligence test too tricky for him to eat +alive. + +"Start him with something easy," suggested Dolf. "Perhaps they don't +have tests on the outer earth. You know, one gains a certain facility +by practice." + +"Milli didn't, in spite of all the practicing which you gave her," +maliciously remarked Thig. + +Dolf glowered at him. + + * * * * * + +"What is the cube root of 378?" suddenly asked one of the other +members of the committee. + +"Oh, a little over seven," hazarded Abbot. + +"Come, come," boomed Thig: "give it to us exactly." + +"Well, seven-point-two, I guess." + +"Don't guess. Give it exact, to four decimal places." + +"In my head?" asked Abbot incredulously. + +"Certainly!" replied Thig. "Even a child could do that. We're giving +you easy questions to start with." + +"Start him on _square_ root," suggested Dolf kindly. "Remember he +isn't used to these tests like our people are." + +So they tried him with square root, in which he turned out to be +equally dumb. + +Abstract questions of physics and chemistry he did better on; but the +actual quantitative problems, which they expected him to solve in his +head, stumped him completely. + +Then they asked him about education on earth, and the qualifications +for becoming a scientist, and who were the leaders in his field, and +what degrees they held, and what one had to do to get those degrees, +etc. Finally they dismissed him. Dolf then sent for Milli. + +She was gone about an hour, and returned to Abbot wide-eyed and +incredulous. + +"Oh, George," said she, lowering her voice. "Dolf tells me that your +intelligence is below that of a five-year-old child! Perhaps that is +why you and I get along so well together: we are both morons." + + * * * * * + +He started to protest, but she silenced him with a gesture and hurried +on. "I am not supposed to tell you this, but I want you to know that +your examination to-day has resulted in a complete change in their +plans for the expedition to the surface. They have consulted with the +leaders of our masters, and they agree with them." + +She was plainly agitated. + +"What is it, dear?" asked Abbot, with ominous foreboding. + +Milli continued: "Early during your test, when you demonstrated that +you couldn't do the very simplest mathematical problems in your head, +they began to doubt your boastings that you are a scientist. But you +were so ingenuous in your answers about conditions on the surface, +that finally their faith in your honesty returned. If you are a +scientist among men, as they now believe, then the average run of your +people must be mere animals. This explains what has puzzled them +before; namely, how the people of the earth tolerate poverty and +unemployment and crime, and disease and war." + +"Well?" + +"And so a mere handful of our people, by purely peaceful means, could +easily make themselves the rulers of the earth. Probably this would be +all for the best; but somehow, my feelings tell me that it is not. I +know only too well what it is to be an inferior among intelligent +beings; so will not your people be happier, left alone to their +stupidity, just as I would be?" + + * * * * * + +George Abbot was crushed. This frank acceptance by Milli of the +alleged fact that he was a mere moron, was most humiliating. And +swiftly he realized what a real menace to the earth, was this +contemplated invasion from the deeps. + +All that was worst in the world above would taint these intellectual +giants of the undersea. They would rise to supremacy, and then would +become rapacious tyrants over those whom they would regard as being no +more than animals. + +He had witnessed jealousies among them down below. Might not these +jealousies flame into huge wars when translated to the world above? +Giants striving for mastery, using the human cattle as cannon fodder! +He painted to the girl a word-picture of the horrible vision which he +foresaw. + +The invasion must be stopped at all costs! He and Milli must pit their +puny wits against these supermen! + +But what could they do? As they were pondering this problem, a girl +entered their sitting room--the same who had brought Abbot's +breakfast on his first day in the caves. Milli introduced George to +the newcomer, whose name was Romehl. + +Romehl appeared so woebegone that the young American ventured to +inquire if she too had been having difficulty with one of her tests. +But that was not the trouble; hers was rather of the heart. + +About the same age as Milli, Romehl had recently passed her twentieth +birthday test and hence was eligible to marry; so she and a young man +named Hakin had requested the fish-masters to give them the requisite +permission. But their overlords for some reason had peremptorily +denied the request. Romehl and Hakin were desolate. + + * * * * * + +Young Abbot's sympathies were at once aroused. + +"Can't something be done?" he started to ask. + +But Milli silenced him with a warning glance. "Of course not!" she +said. "Who are we to question the judgment of our all-knowing +masters?" + +Romehl had really come to Milli just to pour her troubles into a +friendly ear, rather than because she hoped to get any helpful ideas. +So she had a good cry, and finally left, somewhat comforted. + +George and Milli then took up again the problem of saving the outer +earth from the threatened invasion. Milli suggested that they go +peaceably with the expedition, and then warn the authorities of +America at the first opportunity after their arrival; but Abbot +pointed out that this would merely result in their both being shut up +in some insane asylum, as no one would believe such a crazy story as +theirs. + +The time for lights to be put out arrived without their thinking of +any better idea. + +Next day Milli spent considerable time with Dolf, and on her return +excitedly informed Abbot that he had evolved a most diabolical plot. +There were sufficient quantities of explosives in storage to blast a +hole through the wall of the caves, letting in the sea and killing +everyone in the city. Dolf planned to set this off with a time fuse, +upon the departure of the expedition. Thus Thig and the people who +were left behind--about two-thirds of the total population of the +city--would be destroyed, and the fish would have no one to send after +Dolf and his followers to dictate to them on the upper earth. + +Relieved of the thraldom of the fish, Dolf could make himself Emperor +of the World, and rule over the human cattle, with Milli at his side +as Empress. An alluring program--from Dolf's point of view. + + * * * * * + +"I didn't expect such treason even from Dolf!" exclaimed the young +American. "We must tell Thig!" + +"What good would that do?" remonstrated the girl. "If you failed to +convince Thig, Dolf would make an end of us both. And if you convinced +Thig, it would mean the end of Dolf, whose influence is all that keeps +me alive. We must think of something else." + +"Right, as always," replied Abbot. + +A growl came from the doorway. It was Dolf, his bearded face black +with wrath. + +"So?" he sputtered. "Treachery, eh?" + +He whistled twice and two guards appeared. + +"Take them to the prison!" he raged, indicating Abbot and Milli. "Our +expedition will have to do without a guide. I have learned enough of +the American language to make a good start, and I guess I can pick up +another guide when we reach the surface." Then, bending close to the +frightened girl, he whispered, "And another Empress." + +The guards hustled them away and locked them up. As an added +precaution, a sentinel was posted in front of each cell door. + +Abbot immediately got busy. + +"Can you get word for me at once to Thig?" he whispered to the man on +guard. + +"Perhaps," replied that individual non-committally. + +"Then tell him," said Abbot, "that I have proof that Dolf is planning +to destroy this city behind him, and never return from the surface." + +The sentry became immediately agitated. + +"So you know this?" he exclaimed. "How did it leak out? But--through +Milli, of course. And the guard on her cell is not a member of the +expedition! Curses! I must get word to Dolf, and have that guard +changed at once." + +And he darted swiftly away. + + * * * * * + +The young prisoner was plunged into gloom. Now he'd gone and done it! +Why hadn't he first made appropriate inquiries of his guard? + +A new guard appeared in front of the door. + +"Are you going on the expedition?" asked Abbot. + +"Yes, worse luck," replied the guard. + +The prisoner forgot his own gloom, in his surprise at the gloominess +of the other. + +"Don't you want to go?" he exclaimed incredulously. + +"No." + +"Why not?" + +"Do you know Romehl?" asked the guard. + +"Yes," Abbot replied. + +"Well, that's why." + +"Then you must be Hakin!" exclaimed Abbot, with sudden understanding. + +"Yes," replied the other dully. + +"You are going on the expedition, and Romehl is not?" + +"Quite correct." + +"Say, look here!" exclaimed Abbot, and then he launched into the +description of a plan, which just that moment had occurred to him, for +him, Milli, Romehl and Hakin to make their getaway ahead of the +expedition--in fact, that very night--and to set off the time-fuse +before leaving. + +It turned out that Hakin knew where the explosives were planted, and +where the submarines were kept, and even how to operate them. He +eagerly accepted the plan; and when next relieved as sentinel, he +hurried away to inform Romehl. + +Three hours later he was back on post. Quickly he explained to his +prisoner all about the workings of the submarines of the expedition. +The lights-out bell rang, and all the city became dark, except for dim +lights in the passageways. Hakin at once unlocked the door of Abbot's +cell, and together the two young men sneaked down the corridor to the +cell where Milli was confined. + +Silently Hakin and Abbot sprang upon the guard and throttled him; then +released Milli. There was no time for more than a few hurried words of +explanation before the three of them left the prison and made for the +locks of the subterranean canal, picking up Romehl at a preappointed +spot on the way. + + * * * * * + +The canal locks were unguarded, as well as the storerooms of the +submarines. Each of the rooms held two subs, and could open onto the +second lock and be separately flooded. + +The submarines were of steel as thick as Abbot's bathysphere. Their +shape was that of an elongated rain drop, with fins. In the pointed +tip of their tails were motors which could operate at any pressure. At +the front end were quartz windows. In the top fin was an expanding +device which could be filled with buoyant gas, produced by chemicals, +when the craft neared the surface. Each submarine also contained a +radio set, so tuned as to be capable of opening and closing the +radio-controlled gates of the locks. Each would carry comfortably two +or three persons. + +Having picked out two submarines and found them to be in order, Hakin +sneaked back into the corridor to set off the time-fuse, leaving his +three companions in the dark in the storeroom. Abbot put a protecting +arm around Milli, while Romehl snuggled close to her other side. + +Their hearts were all racing madly with excitement, and this was +intensified when they heard Hakin talking with someone just outside +their door. + +Then Hakin returned unexpectedly. + +"Something terrible has happened!" he breathed. "The explosives have +been discovered and are gone. One of the expedition men has just +informed me. Someone must have gotten word to Thig--" + +"Why, _I_ did," interrupted Milli. "I told my guard, just before they +came and changed him." + +Abbot groaned. + +Hakin continued hurriedly: "So Dolf plans to leave at once. He is +already rounding up his followers. Come on! We must get out ahead of +him!" + +An uproar could be heard drawing near in the corridor outside. Abbot +opened the door and peered out; then shut it again and whispered, "The +two factions are fighting already." + +"Then come on!" exclaimed Hakin. + + * * * * * + +As he spoke he turned on the lights, wedged the door tight against its +gaskets and threw the switch which started the water seeping into the +storeroom; then he led Romehl hurriedly to one of the two submarines, +while George and Milli rushed to the other. Heavy blows sounded +against the storeroom door. + +The water rapidly rose about them, and the four friends crawled +inside the two machines and clamped the lids tight. Then they waited +for sufficient depth, so that they could get under way. + +The water rose above their bow windows, but suddenly and inexplicably +it began to subside again. A man waded by around the bow of Abbot's +machine. + +"They've crashed in the door, and are pumping out the water again!" +exclaimed Abbot. "We're trapped!" + +"Not yet!" grimly replied the girl at his side. "Can you work the +radio door controls?" + +"Yes." + +"Then quick! Open the doors into the lock!" + +He pressed a button. Ahead of them two gates swung inward, followed by +a deluge of water. + +"Come on!" spoke the girl. "Full speed ahead, before the water gets +too low." + +Abbot did so. Out into the lock they sped, in the face of the surging +current. Then Abbot pushed another button to close the gates behind +them. But the water continued to fall, and they grounded before they +reached the end of the lock. Quite evidently the rush of the current +had kept the doors from closing behind them. The city was being +flooded through the broken door of the storeroom. + +But Abbot opened the next gate, and again they breasted the incoming +torrent. This time, although the level continued to fall, their craft +did not quite ground. + +"They must have got the gates shut behind us at last," said he, as he +opened the next set and pressed on. + + * * * * * + +And then he had an idea. Why not omit to close any further gates +behind him? As a result, the sea pressure would eventually break down +the inmost barriers, and destroy the city as effectively as Dolf's +bomb would have done. But he said nothing to Milli of this plan: she +might wish to save her people. + +Gate after gate they passed. This was too simple. A few more locks and +they would be out in open water. The submarine of Hakin and Romehl +swept by--evidently to let George and Milli know their presence--and +then dropped behind again. But was it their two friends after all? It +might have been some enemy! They could not be sure. + +This uncertainty cast a chill of apprehension over them, which was +immediately heightened by the sudden extinguishing of the overhead +lights of the tunnel. Abbot pressed the radio button for the next set +of locks, but they did not budge. + +"What can be the matter?" he asked frantically. + +"My people must have turned off the electric current," Milli replied. +"The gates won't open without electricity to feed the motors. We're +trapped again." + +For a moment they lay stunned by a realization that their escape was +blocked. + +"Kiss me good-by, dear," breathed Milli. "This is the end." + +As the young man reached over to take her in his arms, the submarine +was suddenly lifted up and spun backward, end over end: then tumbled +and bumped along, as though it were a chip on an angry mountain +torrent. + +Stunned and bruised and bleeding, the young American finally lost +consciousness.... + + * * * * * + +When he came to his senses again, his first words were, "Milli, where +are you?" + +"My darling!" breathed a voice at his side. "Are you all right?" + +"Yes," he replied. "Where are we? What has happened?" + +"The entire system of locks must have crashed in and flooded the +city," said she. + +Instantly Abbott's mind grasped the explanation of this occurrence: +their leaving open so many gates behind them had made it impossible +for the few remaining gates ahead to withstand the terrific pressures +of the ocean depths, and they had crumpled. But he did not tell Milli +his part in this. + +She continued, "I was pretty badly shaken up myself, but I've got this +boat going again, and we're on our way out of the tunnel. See--I've +found out how to work our searchlight." + +He looked. A broad beam of light from their bow, illuminated the +tunnel ahead of them. + +Presently another beam appeared, shooting by them from behind. + +"Hakin and Romehl!" exclaimed the girl. "Then they're safe, too!" + +The tunnel walls grew rough, then disappeared. They were out in the +open sea at last, although still one mile beneath the surface. + +But in front of them was an angry seething school of the man-sharks, +clearly illumined by the two rays of light. Behind the sharks were a +score or more of serpentine steeds. + +The sharks saw the two submarines and charged down upon them; but +Milli, with great presence of mind, shut off her searchlight and swung +sharply to the left. + +"Up! Up!" urged the young man, so she turned the craft upward. + + * * * * * + +On and on they went, with no interference. Presently they turned the +light on again, so as to see what progress they were making. But they +were making absolutely none! They were merely standing on their tail. +They had reached a height of such relatively low pressure that it took +all the churning of their propeller just merely to counteract the +great weight of their submarine. + +Abbot switched on their chemical gas supply, and as their top fin +expanded into a balloon they again began to rise. + +One thing, however, perplexed the young man: the water about him +seemed jet black rather than blue. They must by now be close to the +surface of the sea, where at least a twilight blue should be visible. +Even at the one mile depth in his bathysphere, the water had been +brilliant, yet here, almost at the surface, he could see absolutely +nothing. + +He switched on the searchlight again to make sure that their window +wasn't clouded over; but it wasn't. + +Then suddenly a rippling veil of pale silver appeared ahead; then a +blue-black sky and twinkling stars. They had reached the surface, and +it was night. + +He pointed out the stars to the girl at his side, then swung the nose +of the submarine around and showed her the moon. + +Where next? George Abbot picked out his position by the stars and +headed east. East across the Pacific, toward America. + + * * * * * + +But soon he noticed that their little craft was dropping beneath the +surface. He kept heading up more and more; he threw the lever for more +and more chemical gas; yet still they continued to sink. + +"Milli!" he exclaimed, "we've got to get out of here!" + +She clutched him in fear, for to her the pressure of the open sea +meant death, certain death. But he pushed her firmly away, and +unclamped the lid of the submarine. In another instant he had hauled +her out and was battling his way to the surface, while their little +boat sunk slowly beneath them. + +Milli was an experienced swimmer, for the undersea folk enjoyed the +privilege of a large indoor pool. As soon as she found that the open +sea did not kill her, she became calm. + +Side by side they floated in the moonlight. The sky began to pink in +the east. Dawn came, the first dawn that Milli had ever seen. + +Suddenly she called George's attention to two bobbing heads some +distance away in the path of light the rising sun made on the ocean. + +"Hakin and Romehl!" he exclaimed. Long since they had given them up +for dead; but evidently fate had treated them in much the same way as +themselves. + +And a moment later his own salt-stung eyes noticed a long gray shape +to one side. + +As the day brightened, Abbot suddenly noticed a large bulking shape +nearby. + +It was his own boat!--the one which had lowered him into the depths in +his bathysphere so many weeks and weeks ago! Evidently it was still +sticking around, grappling for his long dead body. + +"Come on, dear," said he, and side by side they swam over to it. + +He helped her up the ship's ladder. The ship's cook sleepily stuck his +head out of the galley door. + +"Hullo, Mike," sang out George Abbot merrily to the astonished man. +"I've brought company for breakfast. And there'll be two more when we +can lower a boat." + +[Illustration: Advertisement] + + + + +Brood of the Dark Moon + +(_A Sequel to "Dark Moon"_) + +BEGINNING A FOUR-PART NOVEL + +_By Charles Willard Diffin_ + +[Illustration: _He landed one blow on the nearest face._] + + +[Sidenote: Once more Chet, Walt and Diane are united in a wild ride to +the Dark Moon--but this time they go as prisoners of their deadly +enemy Schwartzmann.] + + +CHAPTER I + +_The Message_ + +In a hospital in Vienna, in a room where sunlight flooded through +ultra-violet permeable crystal, the warm rays struck upon smooth walls +the color of which changed from hot reds to cool yellow or gray or to +soothing green, as the Directing Surgeon might order. An elusive +blending of tones, now seemed pulsing with life; surely even a +flickering flame of vitality would be blown into warm livingness in +such a place. + +Even the chart case in the wall glittered with the same clean, +brilliant hues from its glass and metal door. The usual revolving +paper disks showed white beyond the glass. They were moving; and the +ink lines grew to tell a story of temperature and respiration and of +every heart-beat. + +On the identification-plate a name appeared and a date: "Chet +Bullard--23 years. Admitted: August 10, 1973." And below that the +ever-changing present ticked into the past in silent minutes: "August +15, 1973; World Standard Time: 10:38--10:39--10:40--" + +For five days the minutes had trickled into a rivulet of time that +flowed past a bandaged figure in the bed below--a silent figure and +unmoving, as one for whom time has ceased. But the surgeons of the +Allied Hospital at Vienna are clever. + +10:41--10:42--The bandaged figure stirred uneasily on a snow-white +bed.... + + * * * * * + +A nurse was beside him in an instant. Was her patient about to recover +consciousness? She examined the bandages that covered a ragged wound +in his side, where all seemed satisfactory. To all appearances the man +who had moved was unconscious still; the nurse could not know of the +thought impressions, blurred at first, then gradually clearing, that +were flashing through his mind. + +Flashing; yet, to the man who struggled to comprehend them, they +passed laggingly in review: one picture followed another with +exasperating slowness.... + +Where was he? What had happened? He was hardly conscious of his own +identity.... + +There was a ship ... he held the controls ... they were flying low.... +One hand reached fumblingly beneath the soft coverlet to search for a +triple star that should be upon his jacket. A triple star: the +insignia of a Master Pilot of the World!--and with the movement there +came clearly a realization of himself. + +Chet Bullard, Master Pilot; he was Chet Bullard ... and a wall of +water was sweeping under him from the ocean to wipe out the great +Harkness Terminal buildings.... It was Harkness--Walt Harkness--from +whom he had snatched the controls.... To fly to the Dark Moon, of +course-- + +What nonsense was that?... No, it was true: the Dark Moon had raised +the devil with things on Earth.... How slowly the thoughts came! Why +couldn't he remember?... + +Dark Moon!--and they were flying through space.... They had conquered +space; they were landing on the Dark Moon that was brilliantly alight. +Walt Harkness had set the ship down beautifully-- + + * * * * * + +Then, crowding upon one another in breath-taking haste, came clear +recollection of past adventures: + +They were upon the Dark Moon--and there was the girl, Diane. They must +save Diane. Harkness had gone for the ship. A savage, half-human shape +was raising a hairy arm to drive a spear toward Diane, and he, Chet, +was leaping before her. He felt again the lancet-pain of that +blade.... + +And now he was dying--yes, he remembered it now--dying in the night on +a great, sweeping surface of frozen lava.... It was only a moment +before that he had opened his eyes to see Harkness' strained face and +the agonized look of Diane as the two leaned above him.... But now he +felt stronger. He must see them again.... + +He opened his eyes for another look at his companions--and, instead of +black, star-pricked night on a distant globe, there was dazzling +sunlight. No desolate lava-flow, this; no thousand fires that flared +and smoked from their fumeroles in the dark. And, instead of Harkness +and the girl, Diane, leaning over him there was a nurse who laid one +cool hand upon his blond head and who spoke soothingly to him of +keeping quiet. He was to take it easy--he would understand later--and +everything was all right.... And with this assurance Chet Bullard +drifted again into sleep.... + + * * * * * + +The blurring memories had lost their distortions a week later, as he +sat before a broad window in his room and looked out over the +housetops of Vienna. Again he was himself, Chet Bullard, with a Master +Pilot's rating: and he let his eyes follow understandingly the moving +picture of the world outside. It was good to be part of a world whose +every movement he understood. + +Those cylinders with stubby wings that crossed and recrossed the sky; +their sterns showed a jet of thin vapor where a continuous explosion +of detonite threw them through the air. He knew them all: the pleasure +craft, the big, red-bellied freighters, the sleek liners, whose +multiple helicopters spun dazzlingly above as they sank down through +the shaft of pale-green light that marked a descending area. + +That one would be the China Mail. Her under-ports were open before the +hold-down clamps had gripped her; the mail would pour out in an +avalanche of pouches where smaller mailships waited to distribute the +cargo across the land. + +And the big fellow taking off, her hull banded with blue, was one of +Schwartzmann's liners. He wondered what had become of Schwartzmann, +the man who had tried to rob Harkness of his ship; who had brought the +patrol ships upon them in an effort to prevent their take-off on that +wild trip. + +For that matter, what had become of Harkness? Chet Bullard was +seriously disturbed at the absence of any word beyond the one message +that had been waiting for him when he regained consciousness. He drew +that message from a pocket of his dressing gown and read it again: + + "Chet, old fellow, lie low. S has vanished. Means mischief. + Think best not to see you or reveal your whereabouts until + our position firmly established. Have concealed ship. + Remember, S will stop at nothing. Trying to discredit us, + but the gas I brought will fix all that. Get yourself well. + We are planning to go back, of course. Walt." + +Chet returned the folded message to his pocket. He arose and walked +about the room to test his returning strength: to remain idle was +becoming increasingly difficult. He wanted to see Walter Harkness, +talk with him, plan for their return to the wonder-world they had +found. + + * * * * * + +Instead he dropped again into his chair and touched a knob on the +newscaster beside him. A voice, hushed to the requirements of these +hospital precincts spoke softly of market quotations in the far +corners of the earth. He turned the dial irritably and set it on +"World News--General." The name of Harkness came from the instrument +to focus Chet's attention. + +"Harkness makes broad claims," the voice was saying. "Vienna +physicists ridicule his pretensions. + +"Walter Harkness, formerly of New York, proprietor of Harkness +Terminals, whose great buildings near New York were destroyed in the +Dark Moon wave, claims to have reached and returned from the Dark +Moon. + +"Nearly two months have passed since the new satellite crashed into +the gravitational field of Earth, its coming manifested by earth +shocks and a great tidal wave. The globe, as we know, was invisible. +Although still unseen, and only a black circle that blocks out distant +stars, it is visible in the telescopes of the astronomers; its +distance and its orbital motion have been determined. + +"And now this New Yorker claims to have penetrated space: to have +landed on the Dark Moon: and to have returned to Earth. Broad claims, +indeed, especially so in view of the fact that Harkness refuses to +submit his ship for examination by the Stratosphere Control Board. He +has filed notice of ownership, thus introducing some novel legal +technicalities, but, since space-travel is still a dream of the +future, there will be none to dispute his claims. + +"Of immediate interest is Harkness' claim to have discovered a gas +that is fatal to the serpents of space. The monsters that appeared +when the Dark Moon came and that attacked ships above the Repelling +Area are still there. All flying is confined to the lower levels; fast +world-routes are disorganized. + +"Whether or not this gas, of which Harkness has a sample, came from +the Dark Moon or from some laboratory on Earth is of no particular +importance. Will it destroy the space-serpents? If it does this, our +hats are off to Mr. Walter Harkness; almost will we be inclined to +believe the rest of his story--or to laugh with him over one of the +greatest hoaxes ever attempted." + +Chet had been too intent upon the newscast to heed an opening door at +his back.... + + * * * * * + +"How about it, Chet?" a voice was asking. "Would you call it a hoax or +the real thing?" And a girl's voice chimed in with exclamations of +delight at sight of the patient, so evidently recovering. + +"Diane!" Chet exulted, "--and Walt!--you old son-of-a-gun!" He found +himself clinging to a girl's soft hand with one of his, while with the +other he reached for that of her companion. But Walt Harkness' arm +went about his shoulders instead. + +"I'd like to hammer you plenty," Harkness was saying, "and I don't +even dare give you a friendly slam on the back. How's the side where +they got you with the spear?--and how are you? How soon will you be +ready to start back? What about--" + +Diane Delacouer raised her one free hand to stop the flood of +questions. "My dear," she protested, "give Chet a chance. He must be +dying for information." + +"I was dying for another reason the last time I saw you," Chet +reminded her, "--up on the Dark Moon. But it seems that you got me +back here in time for repairs. And now what?" His nurse came into the +room with extra chairs; Chet waited till she was gone before he +repeated: "Now what? When do we go back?" + +Harkness did not answer at once. Instead he crossed to the newscaster +in its compact, metal case. The voice was still speaking softly; at a +touch of a switch it ceased, and in the silence came the soft rush of +sound that meant the telautotype had taken up its work. Beneath a +glass a paper moved, and words came upon it from a hurricane of +type-bars underneath. The instrument was printing the news story as +rapidly as any voice could speak it. + +Harkness read the words for an instant, then let the paper pass on to +wind itself upon a spool. It had still been telling of the gigantic +hoax that this eccentric American had attempted and Harkness repeated +the words. + +"A hoax!" he exclaimed, and his eyes, for a moment, flashed angrily +beneath the dark hair that one hand had disarranged. "I would like to +take that facetious bird out about a thousand miles and let him play +around with the serpents we met. But, why get excited? This is all +Schwartzmann's doing. The tentacles of that man's influence, reach out +like those of an octopus." + + * * * * * + +Chet ranged himself alongside. Tall and slim and blond, he contrasted +strongly with this other man, particularly in his own quiet +self-control as against Harkness' quick-flaring anger. + +"Take it easy, Walt," he advised. "We'll show them. But I judge that +you have been razzed a bit. It's a pretty big story for them to +swallow without proof. Why didn't you show them the ship? Or why +didn't you let Diane and me back up your yarn? And you haven't +answered my other questions: when do we go back?" + +Harkness took the queries in turn. + +"I didn't show the old boat," he explained, "because I'm not ready +for that yet. I want it kept dark--dark as the Dark Moon. I want to do +my preliminary work there before Schwartzmann and his experts see our +ship. He would duplicate it in a hurry and be on our trail. + +"And now for our plans. Well, out there in space the Dark Moon is +waiting. Have you realized, Chet, that we own that world--you and +Diane and I? Small--only half the size of our old moon--but what a +place! And it's ours! + +"Back in history--you remember?--an ambitious lad named Alexander +sighed for more worlds to conquer. Well, we're going Alexander one +better--we've found the world. We're the first ever to go out into +space and return again. + +"We'll go back there, the three of us. We will take no others +along--not yet. We will explore and make our plans for development; +and we will keep it to ourselves until we are ready to hold it against +any opposition. + +"And now, how soon can you go? Your injury--how soon will you be well +enough?" + +"Right now," Chet told him laconically; "to-day, if you say the word. +They've got me welded together so I'll hold, I reckon. But where's the +ship? What have you done--" He broke off abruptly to listen-- + + * * * * * + +To all three came a muffled, booming roar. The windows beside them +shivered with the thud of the distant explosion; they had not ceased +their trembling before Harkness had switched on the news broadcast. +And it was a minute only until the news-gathering system was on the +air. + +"Explosion at the Institute of Physical Science!" it said. "This is +Vienna broadcasting. An explosion has just occurred. We are giving a +preliminary announcement only. The laboratories of the Scientific +Institute of this city are destroyed. A number of lives have been +lost. The cause has not been determined. It is reported that the +laboratories were beginning analytical work, on the so-called Harkness +Dark Moon gas-- + +"Confirmation has just been radioed to this station. Dark Moon gas +exploded on contact with air. The American, Harkness, is either a +criminal or a madman; he will be apprehended at once. This +confirmation comes from Herr Schwartzmann of Vienna who left the +Institute only a few minutes before the explosion occurred--" + +And, in the quiet of a hospital room, Walter Harkness, drew a long +breath and whispered: "Schwartzmann! His hand is everywhere.... And +that sample was all I had.... I must leave at once--go back to +America." + +He was halfway to the door--he was almost carrying Diane Delacouer +with him--when Chet's quiet tones brought him up short. + +"I've never seen you afraid," said Chet; and his eyes were regarding +the other man curiously; "but you seem to have the wind up, as the old +flyers used to say, when it comes to Schwartzmann." + + * * * * * + +Harkness looked at the girl he held so tightly, then grinned boyishly +at Chet. "I've someone else to be afraid for now," he said. + +His smile faded and was replaced by a look of deep concern. "I haven't +told you about Schwartzmann," he said; "haven't had time. But he's +poison, Chet. And he's after our ship." + +"Where is the ship; where have you hidden it? Tell me--where?" + +Harkness looked about him before he whispered sharply: "Our old +shop--up north!" + +He seemed to feel that some explanation was due Chet. "In this day it +seems absurd to say such things," he added; "but this Schwartzmann is +a throw-back--a conscienceless scoundrel. He would put all three of us +out of the way in a minute if he could get the ship. _He_ knows we +have been to the Dark Moon--no question about that--and he wants the +wealth he can imagine is there. + +"We'll all plan to leave; I'll radio you later. We'll go back to the +Dark Moon--" He broke off abruptly as the door opened to admit the +nurse. "You'll hear from me later," he repeated; and hurried Diane +Delacouer from the room. + +But he returned in a moment to stand again at the door--the nurse was +still in the room. "In case you feel like going for a hop," he told +Chet casually, "Diane's leaving her ship here for you. You'll find it +up above--private landing stage on the roof." + +Chet answered promptly, "Fine; that will go good one of these days." +All this for the benefit of listening ears. Yet even Chet would have +been astonished to know that he would be using that ship within an +hour.... + + * * * * * + +He was standing at the window, and his mind was filled, not with +thoughts of any complications that had developed for his friend +Harkness, but only of the adventures that lay ahead of them both. The +Dark Moon!--they had reached it indeed; but they had barely scratched +the surface of that world of mystery and adventure. He was wild with +eagerness to return--to see again that new world, blazing brightly +beneath the sun; to see the valley of fires--and he had a score to +settle with the tribe of ape-men, unless Harkness had finished them +off while he, himself, lay unconscious.... Yes, there seemed little +doubt of that; Walt would have paid the score for all of them.... He +seemed actually back in that world to which his thoughts went winging +across the depths of space. The burr of a telephone recalled him. + +It was the hospital office, he found, when he answered. There was a +message--would Mr. Bullard kindly receive it on the telautotype--lever +number four, and dial fifteen-point-two--thanks.... And Chet depressed +a key and adjusted the instrument that had been printing the newscast. + +The paper moved on beneath the glass, and the type-bars clicked more +slowly now. From some distant station that might be anywhere on or +above the earth, there was coming a message. + +The frequency of that sending current was changed at some central +office; it was stepped down to suit the instrument beside him. And the +type was spelling out words that made the watching man breathless and +intent--until he tore off the paper and leaped for the call signal +that would summon the nurse. Through her he would get his own clothes, +his uniform, the triple star that showed his rating and his authority +in every air-level of the world. + +That badge would have got him immediate attention on any landing +field. Now, on the flat roof, with steady, gray eyes and a voice whose +very quietness accentuated its imperative commands, Chet had the staff +of the hospital hangars as alert as if their alarm had sounded a +general ambulance call. + + * * * * * + +Straight into the sky a red beacon made a rigid column of light; a +radio sender was crackling a warning and a demand for "clear air." +From the forty level, a patrol ship that had caught the signal came +corkscrewing down the red shaft to stand by for emergency work.... +Chet called her commander from the cabin of Diane's ship. A word of +thanks--Chet's number--and a dismissal of the craft. Then the white +lights signaled "all clear" and the hold-down levers let go with a +soft hiss-- + +The feel of the controls was good to his hands; the ship roared into +life. A beautiful little cruiser, this ship of Diane's; her twin +helicopters lifted her gracefully into the air. The column of red +light had changed to blue, the mark of an ascending area; Chet touched +a switch. A muffled roar came from the stern and the blast drove him +straight out for a mile; then he swung and returned. He was nosing up +as he touched the blue--straight up--and he held the vertical climb +till the altimeter before him registered sixty thousand. + +Traffic is north-bound only on the sixty-level, and Chet set his ship +on a course for the frozen wastes of the Arctic; then he gave her the +gun and nodded in tight-lipped satisfaction at the mounting thunder +that answered from the stern. + +Only then did he read again the message on a torn fragment of +telautotype paper. "Harkness," was the signature; and above, a brief +warning and a call--"Danger--must leave at once. You get ship and +stand by. I will meet you there." And, for the first time, Chet found +time to wonder at this danger that had set the hard-headed, +hard-hitting Walt Harkness into a flutter of nerves. + + * * * * * + +What danger could there be in this well-guarded world? A patrol-ship +passed below him as he asked himself the question. It was symbolic of +a world at peace; a world too busy with its own tremendous development +to find time for wars or makers of war. What trouble could this man +Schwartzmann threaten that a word to the Peace Enforcement Commission +would not quell? Where could he go to elude the inescapable patrols? + +And suddenly Chet saw the answer to that question--saw plainly where +Schwartzmann could go. Those vast reaches of black space! If +Schwartzmann had their ship he could go where they had gone--go out to +the Dark Moon.... And Harkness had warned Chet to get their ship and +stand by. + +Had Walt learned of some plan of Schwartzmann's? Chet could not answer +the question, but he moved the control rheostat over to the last +notch. + +From the body of the craft came an unending roar of a generator where +nothing moved; where only the terrific, explosive impact of bursting +detonite drove out from the stern to throw them forward. "A good +little ship," Chet had said of this cruiser of Diane's; and he nodded +approval now of a ground-speed detector whose quivering needle had +left the 500 mark. It touched 600, crept on, and trembled at 700 miles +an hour with the top speed of the ship. + +There was a position-finder in the little control room, and Chet's +gaze returned to it often to see the pinpoint of light that crept +slowly across the surface of a globe. It marked their ever-changing +location, and it moved unerringly toward a predetermined goal. + + * * * * * + +It was a place of ice and snow and bleak outcropping of half-covered +rocks where he descended. Lost from the world, a place where even the +high levels seldom echoed to the roar of passing ships, it had been a +perfect location for their "shop." Here he and Walt had assembled +their mystery ship. + +He had to search intently over the icy waste to find the exact +location; a dim red glow from a hidden sun shone like pale fire +across distant black hills. But the hills gave him a bearing, and he +landed at last beside a vaguely outlined structure, half hidden in +drifting snow. + +The dual fans dropped him softly upon the snow ground and Chet, as he +walked toward the great locked doors, was trembling from other causes +than the cold. Would the ship be there? He was suddenly a-quiver with +excitement at the thought of what this ship meant--the adventure, the +exploration that lay ahead. + +The doors swung back. In the warm and lighted room was a cylinder of +silvery white. Its bow ended in a gaping port where a mighty exhaust +could roar forth to check the ship's forward speed; there were other +ports ranged about the gleaming body. Above the hull a control-room +projected flatly; its lookouts shone in the brilliance of the nitron +illuminator that flooded the room with light.... + +Chet Bullard was breathless as he moved on and into the room. His wild +experiences that had seemed but a weird dream were real again. The +Dark Moon was real! And they would be going back to it! + + * * * * * + +The muffled beating of great helicopters was sounding in his ears; +outside, a ship was landing. This would be Harkness coming to join +him; yet, even as the thought flashed through his mind, it was +countered by a quick denial. To the experienced hearing of the Master +Pilot this sound of many fans meant no little craft. It was a big ship +that was landing, and it was coming down fast. The blue-striped +monster looming large in the glow of the midnight sun was not entirely +a surprise to Chet's staring eyes. + +But--blue-striped! The markings of the Schwartzmann line!--He had +hardly sensed the danger when it was upon him. + +A man, heavy and broad of frame, was giving orders. Only once had Chet +seen this Herr Schwartzmann, but there was no mistaking him now. And +he was sending a squad of rushing figures toward the man who struggled +to close a great door. + +Chet crouched to meet the attack. He was outnumbered; he could never +win out. But the knowledge of his own helplessness was nothing beside +that other conviction that flooded him with sickening certainty-- + +A hoax!--that was what they had called Walt's story; Schwartzmann had +so named it, and now Schwartzmann had been the one to fool them; the +message was a fake--a bait to draw him out; and he, Chet, had taken +the bait. He had led Schwartzmann here; had delivered their ship into +his hands-- + +He landed one blow on the nearest face; he had one glimpse of a +clubbed weapon swinging above him--and the world went dark. + + +CHAPTER II + +_Into Space_ + +A pulsing pain that stabbed through his head was Chet's first +conscious impression. Then, as objects came slowly into focus before +his eyes, he knew that above him a ray of light was striking +slantingly through the thick glass of a control-room lookout. + +Other lookouts were black, the dead black of empty space. Through +them, sparkling points of fire showed here and there--suns, sending +their light across millions of years to strike at last on a speeding +ship. But, from the one port that caught the brighter light, came that +straight ray to illumine the room. + +"Space," thought Chet vaguely. "That is the sunlight of space!" + +He was trying to arrange his thoughts in some sensible sequence. His +head!--what had happened to his head?... And then he remembered. Again +he saw a clubbed weapon descending, while the face of Schwartzmann +stared at him through bulbous eyes.... + +And this control-room where he lay--he knew in an instant where he +was. It was his own ship that was roaring and trembling beneath +him--his and Walt Harkness'--it was flying through space! And, with +the sudden realization of what this meant, he struggled to arise. Only +then did he see the figure at the controls. + +The man was leaning above an instrument board; he straightened to +stare from a rear port while he spoke to someone Chet could not see. + +"There's more of 'em coming!" he said in a choked voice. "_Mein Gott!_ +Neffer can we get away!" + + * * * * * + +He fumbled with shaking hands at instruments and controls; and now +Chet saw his chalk-white face and read plainly the terror that was +written there. But the cords that cut into his own wrists and ankles +reminded him that he was bound; he settled back upon the floor. Why +struggle? If this other pilot was having trouble let him get out of it +by himself--let him kill his own snakes! + +That the man was having trouble there was no doubt. He looked once +more behind him as if at something that pursued; then swung the +ball-control to throw the ship off her course. + +The craft answered sluggishly, and Chet Bullard grinned where he lay +helpless upon the floor; for he knew that his ship should have been +thrown crashingly aside with such a motion as that. The answer was +plain: the flask of super-detonite was exhausted; here was the last +feeble explosion of the final atoms of the terrible explosive that was +being admitted to the generator. And to cut in another flask meant the +opening of a hidden valve. + +Chet forgot the pain of his swelling hands to shake with suppressed +mirth. This was going to be good! He forgot it until, through a +lookout, he saw a writhing, circling fire that wrapped itself about +the ship and jarred them to a halt. + +The serpents!--those horrors from space that had come with the coming +of the Dark Moon! They had disrupted the high-level traffic of the +world; had seized great liners; torn their way in; stripped these of +every living thing, and let the empty shells crash back to earth. Chet +had forgotten or he had failed to realize the height at which this new +pilot was flying. Only speed could save them; the monsters, with their +snouts that were great suction-cups, could wrench off a metal +door--tear out the glass from a port! + + * * * * * + +He saw the luminous mass crush itself against a forward lookout and +felt the jar of its body against their ship. Soft and vaporous, these +cloud-like serpents seemed as they drifted through space; yet the +impact, when they struck, proved that this new matter had mass. + +Chet saw the figure at the controls stagger back and cower in fear; +the man's bullet-shaped head was covered by his upraised arms: there +was some horror outside those windows that his eyes had no wish to +see. Beside him the towering figure of Schwartzmann appeared; he had +sprung into Chet's view, and he screamed orders at the fear-stricken +pilot. + +"Fool! Swine!" Schwartzmann was shouting. "Do something! You said you +could fly this ship!" In desperation he leaped forward and reached for +the controls himself. + +Chet's blurred faculties snapped sharply to attention. That yellow +glow against the port--the jarring of their ship--it meant instant +destruction once that searching snout found some place where it could +secure a hold. If the air-pressure within the ship were released; if +even a crack were opened!-- + +"Here, you!" he shouted to the frantic Schwartzmann who was jerking +frenziedly at the controls that no longer gave response. "Cut these +ropes!--leave those instruments alone, you fool!" He was suddenly +vibrant with hate as he realized what this man had done: he had struck +him, Chet, down as he would have felled an animal for butchery; he had +stolen their ship; and now he was losing it. Chet hardly thought of +his own desperate plight in his rage at this threat to their ship, and +at Schwartzmann's inability to help himself. + +"Cut these ropes!" he repeated. "Damn it all, turn me loose; I can fly +us out!" He added his frank opinion of Schwartzmann and all his men. +And Schwartzmann, though his dark face flushed angrily red for one +instant, leaped to Chet's side and slashed at the cords with a knife. + +The room swam before Chet's dizzy eyes as he came to his feet. He half +fell, half drew himself full length toward the valve that he alone +knew. Then again he was on his feet and he gripped at the ball-control +with one hand while he opened a master throttle that cut in this new +supply of explosive. + + * * * * * + +The room had been silent with the silence of empty space, save only +for the scraping of a horrid body across the ship's outer shell. The +silence was shattered now as if by the thunder of many guns. There +was no time for easing themselves into gradual flight. Chet thrust +forward on the ball-control, and the blast from their stern threw the +ship as if it had been fired from a giant cannon. + +The self-compensating floor swung back and up; Chet's weight was +almost unbearable as the ship beneath him leaped out and on, and the +terrific blast that screamed and thundered urged this speeding shell +to greater and still greater speed. And then, with the facility that +that speed gave, Chet's careful hands moved a tiny metal ball within +its magnetic cage, and the great ship bellowed from many ports as it +followed the motion of that ball. + +Could an eye have seen the wild, twisting flight, it must have seemed +as if pilot and ship had gone suddenly mad. The craft corkscrewed and +whirled; it leaped upward and aside; and, as the glowing mass was +thrown clear of the lookout, Chet's hand moved again to that maximum +forward position, and again the titanic blast from astern drove them +on and out. + +There were other shapes ahead, glowing lines of fire, luminous masses +like streamers of cloud that looped themselves into contorted forms +and writhed vividly until they straightened into sharp lines of speed +that bore down upon the fleeing craft and the human food that was +escaping these hungry snouts. + +Chet saw them dead ahead; he saw the out-thrust heads, each ending in +a great suction-cup, the row of disks that were eyes blazing above, +and the gaping maw below. He altered their course not a hair's breadth +as he bore down upon them, while the monsters swelled prodigiously +before his eyes. And the thunderous roar from astern came with never a +break, while the ship itself ceased its trembling protest against the +sudden blast and drove smoothly on and into the waiting beasts. + +There was a hardly perceptible thudding jar. They were free! And the +forward lookouts showed only the brilliant fires of distant suns and +one more glorious than the rest that meant a planet. + + * * * * * + +Chet turned at last to face Schwartzmann and his pilot where they had +clung helplessly to a metal stanchion. Four or five others crept in +from the cabin aft; their blanched faces told of the fear that bad +gripped them--fear of the serpents; fear, too, of the terrific plunges +into which the ship had been thrown. Chet Bullard drew the metal +control-ball back into neutral and permitted himself the luxury of a +laugh. + +"You're a fine bunch of highway-men," he told Schwartzmann; "you'll +steal a ship you can't fly; then come up here above the R. A. level +and get mixed up with those brutes. What's the idea? Did you think you +would just hop over to the Dark Moon? Some little plan like that in +your mind?" + +Again the dark, heavy face of Schwartzmann flushed deeply; but it was +his own men upon whom he turned. + +"You," he told the pilot--"you were so clever; you would knock this +man senseless! You would insist that you could fly the ship!" + +The pilot's eyes still bulged with the fear he had just experienced. +"But, Herr Schwartzmann, it was you who told me--" + +A barrage of unintelligible words cut his protest short. Schwartzmann +poured forth imprecations in an unknown tongue, then turned to the +others. + +"Back!" he ordered. "Bah!--such men! The danger it iss over--yess! +This pilot, he will take us back safely." + +He turned his attention now to the waiting Chet. "Herr Bullard, iss it +not--yess?" + +He launched into extended apologies--he had wanted a look at this so +marvelous ship--he had spied upon it; he admitted it. But this +murderous attack was none of his doing; his men had got out of hand; +and then he had thought it best to take Chet, unconscious as he was, +and return with him where he could have care. + + * * * * * + +And Chet Bullard kept his eyes steadily upon the protesting man and +said nothing, but he was thinking of a number of things. There was +Walt's warning, "this Schwartzmann means mischief," and the faked +message that had brought him from the hospital to get the ship from +its hiding place; no, it was too much to believe. But Chet's eyes were +unchanging, and he nodded shortly in agreement as the other concluded. + +"You will take us back?" Schwartzmann was asking. "I will repay you +well for what inconvenience we have caused. The ship, you will return +it safely to the place where it was?" + +And Chet, after making and discarding a score of plans, knew there was +nothing else he could do. He swung the little metal ball into a +sharply-banked turn. The straight ray of light from an impossibly +brilliant sun struck now on a forward lookout; it shone across the +shoulder of a great globe to make a white, shining crescent as of a +giant moon. It was Earth; and Chet brought the bow-sights to bear on +that far-off target, while again the thunderous blast was built up to +drive them back along the trackless path on which they had come. But +he wondered, as he pressed forward on the control, what the real plan +of this man, Schwartzmann, might be.... + + * * * * * + +Less than half an hour brought them to the Repelling Area, and Chet +felt the upward surge as he approached it. Here, above this magnetic +field where gravitation's pull was nullified, had been the air-lanes +for fast liners. Empty lanes they were now; for the R. A., as the +flying fraternity knew it--the Heaviside Layer of an earlier +day--marked the danger line above which the mysterious serpents lay in +wait. Only the speed of Chet's ship saved them; more than one of the +luminous monsters was in sight as he plunged through the invisible R. +A. and threw on their bow-blast strongly to check their fall. + +Then, as he set a course that would take them to that section of the +Arctic waste where the ship had been, he pondered once more upon the +subject of this Schwartzmann of the shifty eyes and the glib tongue +and of his men who had "got out of hand" and had captured this ship. + +"Why in thunder are we back here?" Chet asked himself in perplexity. +"This big boy means to keep the ship; and, whatever his plans may have +been before, he will never stop short of the Dark Moon now that he has +seen the old boat perform. Then why didn't he keep on when he was +started? Had the serpents frightened him back?" + +He was still mentally proposing questions to which there seemed no +answer when he felt the pressure of a metal tube against his back. The +voice of Schwartzmann was in his ears. + +"This is a detonite pistol"--that voice was no longer unctuous and +self-deprecating--"one move and I'll plant a charge inside you that +will smash you to a jelly!" + + * * * * * + +There were hands that gripped Chet before he could turn; his arms were +wrenched backward; he was helpless in the grip of Schwartzmann's men. +The former pilot sprang forward. + +"Take control, Max!" Schwartzmann snapped; but he followed it with a +question while the pilot was reaching for the ball. "You can fly it +for sure, Max?" + +The man called Max answered confidently. + +"_Ja wohl!_" he said with eager assurance. "Up top there would have +been no trouble yet for that _verdammt, verloren_ valve. That one +experimental trip is enough--I fly it!" + +Those who held Chet were binding his wrists. He was thrown to the +floor while his feet were tied, and, as a last precaution, a gag was +forced into his mouth. Schwartzmann left this work to his men. He paid +no attention to Chet; he was busy at the radio. + +He placed the sending-levers in strange positions that would effect a +blending of wave lengths which only one receiving instrument could +pick up. He spoke cryptic words into the microphone, then dropped into +a language that was unfamiliar to Chet. Yet, even then, it was plain +that he was giving instructions, and he repeated familiar words. + +"Harkness," Chet heard him say, and, "--Delacouer--_ja!_--Mam'selle +Delacouer!" + +Then, leaving the radio, he said, "Put my ship inside the hangar;" and +the pilot, Max, grounded their own ship to allow the men to leap out +and float into the big building the big aircraft in which Schwartzmann +had come. + +"Now close the doors!" their leader ordered. "Leave everything as it +was!" And to the pilot he gave added instructions: "There iss no air +traffic here. You will to forty thousand ascend, und you will wait +over this spot." Contemptuously he kicked aside the legs of the bound +man that he might walk back into the cabin. + + * * * * * + +The take-off was not as smooth as it would have been had Chet's slim +hands been on the controls; this burly one who handled them now was +not accustomed to such sensitivity. But Chet felt the ship lift and +lurch, then settle down to a swift, spiralling ascent. Now he lay +still as he tried to ponder the situation. + +"Now what dirty work are they up to?" he asked himself. He had seen a +sullen fury on the dark face of Herr Schwartzmann as he spoke the +names of Walt and Diane into the radio. Chet remembered the look now, +and he struggled vainly with the cords about his wrists. Even a +detonite pistol with its tiny grain of explosive in the end of each +bullet would not check him--not when Walt and Diane were endangered. +And the expression on that heavy, scowling face had told him all too +clearly that some real danger threatened. + +But the cords held fast on his swollen wrists. His head was still +throbbing; and even his side, not entirely healed, was adding to the +torment that beat upon him--beat and beat with his pulsing +blood--until the beating faded out into unconsciousness.... + +Dimly he knew they were soaring still higher as their radio picked up +the warning of an approaching patrol ship; vaguely he realized that +they descended again to a level of observation. Chet knew in some +corner of his brain that Schwartzmann was watching from an under +lookout with a powerful glass, and he heard his excited command: + +"Down--go slowly, down!... They are landing.... They have entered the +hangar. Now, down with it, Max! Down! down!" + + * * * * * + +The plunging fall of the ship roused Chet from his stupor. He felt the +jolt of the clumsy landing despite the snow-cushioned ground; he +heard plainly the exclamations from beyond an open port--the startled +oath in Walter Harkness' voice, and the stinging scorn in the words of +Diane Delacouer. + +Herr Schwartzmann had been in the employ of Mademoiselle Delacouer, +but he was taking orders no longer. There was a sound of scuffling +feet, and once the thud of a blow.... Then Chet watched with heavy, +hopeless eyes as the familiar faces of Diane and Walt appeared in the +doorway. Their hands were bound; they, too, were threatened with a +slim-barreled pistol in the hands of the smirking, exultant +Schwartzmann. + +A tall, thin-faced man whom Chet had not seen before followed them +into the room. The newcomer was motioned forward now, as Schwartzmann +called an order to the pilot: + +"All right; now we go, Max! Herr Doktor Kreiss will give you the +bearings; he knows his way among the stars." + +Herr Schwartzmann doubled over in laughing appreciation of his own +success before he straightened up and regarded his captives with cold +eyes. + +"Such a pleasure!" he mocked: "such charming passengers to take with +me on my first trip into space; this ship, it iss not so goot. I will +build better ships later on; I will let you see them when I shall come +to visit you." + +He laughed again at sight of the wondering looks in the eyes of the +three; stooping, he jerked the gag from Chet's mouth. + +"You do not understand," he exclaimed. "I should haff explained. You +see, _meine guten Freunde_, we go--ach!--you have guessed it already! +We go to the Dark Moon. I am pleased to take you with me on the trip +out; but coming back, I will have so much to bring--there will be no +room for passengers. + +"I could have killed you here," he said; and his mockery gave place +for a moment to a savage tone, "but the patrol ships, they are +everywhere. But I have influence here und there--I arranged that your +flask of gas should be charged with explosive, I discredited you, and +yet I could not so great a risk take as to kill you all." + +"So came inspiration! I called your foolish young friend here from the +hospital. I ordered him to go at once to the ship hidden where I could +not find, and I signed the name of Herr Harkness." + + * * * * * + +Chet caught the silent glances of his friends who could yet smile +hopefully through the other emotions that possessed them. He ground +his teeth as the smooth voice of Herr Schwartzmann went on: + +"He led me here; the young fool! Then I sent for you--and this time I +signed his name--und you came. So simple!" + +"Und now we go in my ship to my new world. And," he added savagely, +"if one of you makes the least trouble, he will land on the Dark +Moon-yess!-but he will land hard, from ten thousand feet up!" + +The great generator was roaring. To Chet came the familiar lift of the +R. A. effect. They were beyond the R. A.; they were heading out and +away from Earth; and his friends were captives through his own +unconscious treachery, carried out into space in their own ship, with +the hands of an enemy gripping the controls.... + +Chet's groan, as he turned his face away from the others who had tried +to smile cheerfully, had nothing to do with the pain of his body. It +was his mind that was torturing him. + +But he muttered broken words as he lay there, words that had reference +to one Schwartzmann. "I'll get him, damn him! I'll get him!" he was +promising himself. + +And Herr Schwartzmann who was clever, would have proved his cleverness +still more by listening. For a Master Pilot of the World does not get +his rating on vain boasts. He must know first his flying, his ships +and his air--but he is apt to make good in other ways as well. + + +CHAPTER III + +_Out of Control_ + +Walter Harkness had built this ship with Chet's help. They had +designed it for space-travel. It was the first ship to leave the Earth +under its own power, reach another heavenly body, and come back for a +safe landing. But they had not installed any luxuries for the +passengers. + +In the room where the three were confined, there were no +self-compensating chairs such as the high-liners used. But the +acceleration of the speeding ship was constant, and the rear wall +became their floor where they sat or paced back and forth. Their bonds +had been removed, and one of Harkness' hands was gripping Diane's +where they sat side by side. Chet was briskly limbering his cramped +muscles. + +He glanced at the two who sat silent nearby, and he knew what was in +their minds--knew that each was thinking of the other, forgetting +their own danger: and it was these two who had saved his life on their +first adventure out in space. + +Walt--one man who was never spoiled by his millions; and +Diane--straight and true as they make 'em! Some way, somehow, they +must be saved--thus ran his thoughts--but it looked bad for them all. +Schwartzmann?--no use kidding themselves about that lad; he was one +bad hombre. The best they could hope for was to be marooned on the +Dark Moon--left there to live or to die amid those savage +surroundings; and the worst that might happen--! But Chet refused to +think of what alternatives might occur to the ugly, distorted mind of +the man who had them at his mercy. + +There was no echo of these thoughts when he spoke; the smile that +flashed across his lean face brought a brief response from the +despondent countenances of his companions. + +"Well," Chet observed, and ran his hand through a tangle of blond +hair, "I have heard that the Schwartzmann lines give service, and I +reckon I heard right. Here we were wanting to go back to the Dark +Moon, and,"--he paused to point toward a black portlight where +occasional lights flashed past--"I'll say we're going; going somewhere +at least. All I hope is that that Maxie boy doesn't find the Dark Moon +at about ten thousand per. He may be a great little skipper on a nice, +slow, five-hundred-maximum freighter, but not on this boat. I don't +like his landings." + + * * * * * + +Diane Delacouer raised her eyes to smile approvingly upon him. "You're +good, Chet," she said; "you are a darn good sport. They knock you down +out of control, and you nose right back up for a forty-thousand foot +zoom. And you try to carry us with you. Well, I guess it's time we got +over our gloom. Now what is going to happen?" + +"I'll tell you," said Walter Harkness, looking at his watch: "if that +fool pilot of Schwartzmann's doesn't cut his stern thrust and build up +a bow resistance, we'll overshoot our mark and go tearing on a few +hundred thousand miles in space." + +Diane was playing up to Chet's lead. + +"_Bien!_" she exclaimed. "A few million, perhaps! Then we may see some +of those Martians we've been speculating about. I hear they are +handsome, my Walter--much better looking than you. Maybe this is all +for the best after all!" + +"Say," Harkness protested, "if you two idiots don't know enough to +worry as you ought, I don't see any reason why I should do all the +heavy worrying for the whole crowd. I guess you've got the right idea +at that: take what comes when it gets here--or when we get there." + +Small wonder, thought Chet, that Herr Schwartzmann stared at them in +puzzled bewilderment when he flung open the door, and took one long +stride into the room. Stocky, heavy-muscled, he stood regarding them, +a frown of suspicion drawing his face into ugly lines. Plainly he was +disturbed by this laughing good-humor where he had expected misery and +hopelessness and tears. He moved the muzzle of a detonite pistol back +and forth. + + * * * * * + +"You haff been drinking!" he stated at last. "You are intoxicated--all +of you!" His eyes darted searching glances about the little room that +was too bare to hide any cause for inebriation. + +It was Mam'selle Diane who answered him with an emphatic shake of her +dark head; an engaging smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "_Mais +non!_ my dear Herr Schwartzmann," she assured him: "it is joy--just +happiness at again approaching our Moon--and in such good company, +too." + +"Fortunes of war, Schwartzmann," declared Harkness; "we know how to +accept them, and we don't hold it against you. We are down now, but +your turn will come." + +The man's reply was a sputtering of rage in words that neither Chet +nor Harkness could understand. The latter turned to the girl with a +question. + +"Did you get it, Diane? What did he say?" + +"I think I would not care to translate it literally," said Diane +Delacouer, twisting her soft mouth into an expression of distaste; +"but, speaking generally, he disagrees with you." + +Herr Schwartzmann was facing Harkness belligerently. "You think you +know something! What is it?" he demanded. "You are under my feet: I +kick you as I would _meinen Hund_ and you can do nothing." He aimed a +savage kick into the air to illustrate his meaning, and Harkness' face +flushed suddenly scarlet. + + * * * * * + +Whatever retort was on Harkness' tongue was left unspoken; a sharp +look from Chet, who brought his fingers swiftly to his lips in a +gesture of silence, checked the reply. The action was almost +unconscious on Chet's part; it was as unpremeditated as the sudden +thought that flashed abruptly into his mind-- + +They were helpless; they were in this brute's power beyond the +slightest doubt. Schwartzmann's words, "You know something. What is +it?" had fired a swift train of thought. + +The idea was nebulous as yet ... but if they could throw a scare into +this man--make him think there was danger ahead.... Yes, that was it: +make Schwartzmann think they knew of dangers that he could not avoid. +They had been there before: make this man afraid to kill them. The +dreadful alternative that Chet had feared to think of might be +averted.... + +All this came in an instantaneous, flashing correlation of his +conscious thoughts. + +"I'll tell you what we mean," he told Schwartzmann. He even leaned +forward to shake an impressive finger before the other's startled +face. "I'll tell you first of all that it doesn't make a damn bit of +difference who is on top--or it won't in a few hours more. We'll all +be washed out together. + +"I've landed once on the Dark Moon; I know what will happen. And do +you know how fast we are going? Do you know the Moon's speed as it +approaches? Had you thought what you will look like when that fool +pilot rams into it head on? + +"And that isn't all!" He grinned derisively into Schwartzmann's +flushed face, disregarding the half-raised pistol; it was as if some +secret thought had filled him with overpowering amusement. His broad +grin grew into a laugh. "That isn't all, big boy. What will you do if +you do land? What will you do when you open the ports and the--?" He +cut his words short, and the smile, with all other expression, was +carefully erased from his young face. + +"No, I reckon I won't spoil the surprise. We got through it all right; +maybe you will, too--maybe!" + + * * * * * + +And again it was Diane who played up to Chet's lead without a moment's +hesitation. + +"Chet," she demanded, "aren't you going to warn him? You would not +allow him and his men to be--" + +She stopped in apparent horror of the unsaid words; Chet gave her an +approving glance. + +"We'll see about that when we get there, Diane." + +He turned abruptly back to Schwartzmann. "I'll forget what a rotten +winner you have been; I'll help you out; I'll take the controls if you +like. Of course, your man, Max, may set us down without damage; then +again--" + +"Take them!" Schwartzmann ungraciously made an order of his +acceptance. "Take the controls, Herr Bullard! But if you make a +single false move!" The menacing pistol completed the threat. + +But "Herr Bullard" merely turned to his companion with a level, +understanding look. "Come on," he said; "you can both help in working +out our location." + +He stepped before the burly man that Diane might precede them through +the door. And he felt the hand of Walt Harkness on his arm in a +pressure that told what could not be said aloud. + + * * * * * + +There were pallid-faced men in the cabin through which they passed; +men who stared and stared from the window-ports into the black +immensity of space. Chet, too, stopped to look; there had been no +port-holes in that inner room where they had been confined. + +He knew what to expect; he knew how awe-inspiring would be the sight +of strange, luminous bodies--great islands of light--masses of +animaculae--that glowed suddenly, then melted again into velvet black. +A whirl of violet grew almost golden in sudden motion; Chet knew it +for an invisible monster of space. Glowingly luminous as it threw +itself upon a subtle mass of shimmering light, it faded like a +flickering flame, and went dark as its motion ceased. + +Life!--life everywhere in this ocean of space! And on every hand was +death. "Not surprising," Chet realized, "that these other Earthmen are +awed and trembling!" + +The sun was above them; its light struck squarely down through the +upper ports. This was polarized light--there was nothing outside to +reflect or refract it--and, coming as a straight beam from above, it +made a brilliant circle upon the floor from which it was diffused +throughout the room. It was as if the floor itself was the +illuminating agent. + +No eye could bear to look into the glare from above; nor was there +need, for the other ports drew the eyes with their black depths of +unplumbed space. + +Black!--so velvet as to seem almost tangible! Could one have reached +out a hand, that blackness, it seemed, must be a curtain that the hand +could draw aside, where unflickering points of light pricked through +the dark to give promise of some radiant glory beyond. + + * * * * * + +They had seen it before, these three, yet Chet caught the eyes of +Harkness and Diane and knew that his own eyes must share something of +the look he saw in theirs--something of reverent wonder and a strange +humility before this evidence of transcendent greatness. + +Their own immediate problem seemed gone. The tyranny of this glowering +human and his men--the efforts of the whole world and its struggling +millions--how absurdly unimportant it all was! How it faded to +insignificance! And yet.... + +Chet came from the reverie that held him. There was one man by whom +this beauty was unseen. Herr Schwartzmann was angrily ordering them +on, and, surprisingly, Chet laughed aloud. + +This problem, he realized, was _his_ problem--his to solve with the +help of the other two. And it was _not_ insignificant; he knew with +some sudden wordless knowledge that there was nothing in all the great +scheme but that it had its importance. This vastness that was beyond +the power of human mind to grasp ceased to be formidable--he was part +of it. He felt buoyed up; and he led the way confidently toward the +control-room door where Schwartzmann stood. + +The scientist, whom Schwartzmann had called Herr Doktor Kreiss, was +beside the pilot. He was leaning forward to search the stars in the +blackness ahead, but the pilot turned often to stare through the rear +lookouts as if drawn in fearful fascination by what was there. Chet +took the controls at Schwartzmann's order; the pilot saluted with a +trembling hand and vanished into the cabin at the rear. + +"Ready for flying orders, Doctor," the new pilot told Herr Kreiss. +"I'll put her where you say--within reason." + +Behind him he heard the choked voice of Mademoiselle Diane: +"_Regardez! Ah, mon Dieu_, the beauty of it! This loveliness--it +hurts!" + + * * * * * + +One hand was pressed to her throat; her face was turned as the pilot's +had been that she might stare and stare at a quite impossible moon--a +great half-disk of light in the velvet dark. + +"This loveliness--it hurts!" Chet looked, too, and knew what Diane was +feeling. There was a catch of emotion in his own throat--a feeling +that was almost fear. + +A giant half-moon!--and he knew it was the Earth. Golden Earth-light +came to them in a flooding glory; the blazing sun struck on it from +above to bring out half the globe in brilliant gold that melted to +softest, iridescent, rainbow tints about its edge. Below, hung +motionless in the night, was another sphere. Like a reflection of +Earth in the depths of some Stygian lake, the old moon shone, too, in +a half-circle of light. + +Small wonder that these celestial glories brought a gasp of delight +from Diane, or drew into lines of fear the face of that other pilot +who saw only his own world slipping away. But Chet Bullard, Master +Pilot of the World, swung back to scan a star-chart that the scientist +was holding, then to search out a similar grouping in the black depths +into which they were plunging, and to bring the cross-hairs of a +rigidly mounted telescope upon that distant target. + +"How far?" he asked himself in a half-spoken thought, "--how far have +we come?" + + * * * * * + +There was an instrument that ticked off the seconds in this seemingly +timeless void. He pressed a small lever beside it, and, beneath a +glass that magnified the readings, there passed the time-tape. Each +hour and minute was there; each movement of the controls was +indicated; each trifling variation in the power of the generator's +blast. Chet made some careful computations and passed the paper to +Harkness, who tilted the time-tape recorder that he might see the +record. + +"Check this, will you, Walt?" Chet was asking. "It is based on the +time of our other trip, acceleration assumed as one thousand miles per +hour per hour out of air--" + +The scientist interrupted; he spoke in English that was carefully +precise. + +"It should lie directly ahead--the Dark Moon. I have calculated with +exactness." + +Walter Harkness had snatched up a pair of binoculars. He swung sharply +from lookout to lookout while he searched the heavens. + +"It's damned lucky for us that you made a slight error," Chet was +telling the other. + +"Error?" Kreiss challenged. "Impossible!" + +"Then you and I are dead right this minute," Chet told him. "We are +crossing the orbit of the Dark Moon--crossing at twenty thousand miles +per hour relative to Earth, slightly in excess of that figure relative +to the Dark Moon. If it had been here--!" He had been watching +Harkness anxiously; he bit off his words as the binoculars were thrust +into his hand. + +"There she comes," Harkness told him quietly; "it's up to you!" + +But Chet did not need the glasses. With his unaided eyes he could see +a faint circle of violet light. It lay ahead and slightly above, and +it grew visibly larger as he watched. A ring of nothingness, whose +outline was the faintest shimmering halo; more of the distant stars +winked out swiftly behind that ghostly circle; it was the Dark +Moon!--and it was rushing upon them! + + * * * * * + +Chet swung an instrument upon it. He picked out a jet of violet light +that could be distinguished, and he followed it with the cross-hairs +while he twirled a micrometer screw; then he swiftly copied the +reading that the instrument had inscribed. The invisible disk with its +ghostly edge of violet was perceptibly larger as he slammed over the +control-ball to up-end them in air. + +Under the control-room's nitron illuminator the cheeks of Herr Doktor +Kreiss were pale and bloodless as if his heart had ceased to function. +Harkness had moved quietly back to the side of Diane Delacouer and was +holding her two hands firmly in his. + +The very air seemed charged with the quick tenseness of emotions. +Schwartzmann must have sensed it even before he saw the onrushing +death. Then he leaped to a lookout, and, an instant later, sprang at +Chet calmly fingering the control. + +"Fool!" he screamed, "you would kill us all? Turn away from it! Away +from it!" + +He threw himself in a frenzy upon the pilot. The detonite pistol was +still in his hand. "Quick!" he shouted. "Turn us!" + +Harkness moved swiftly, but the scientist, Kreiss, was nearer; it was +he who smashed the gun-hand down with a quick blow and snatched at the +weapon. + +Schwartzmann was beside himself with rage. "You, too?" he demanded. +"Giff it me--traitor!" + + * * * * * + +But the tall man stood uncompromisingly erect. "Never," he said, "have +I seen a ship large enough to hold two commanding pilots. I take your +orders in all things, Herr Schwartzmann--all but this. If we die--we +die." + +Schwartzmann sputtered: "We should haff turned away. Even yet we +might. It will--it will--" + +"Perhaps," agreed Kreiss, still in that precise, class-room voice, +"perhaps it will. But this I know: with an acceleration of one +thousand m.p.h. as this young man with the badge of a Master Pilot +says, we cannot hope, in the time remaining, to overcome our present +velocity; we can never check our speed and build up a relatively +opposite motion before that globe would overwhelm us. If he has +figured correctly, this young man--if he has found the true resultant +of our two motions of approach--and if he has swung us that we may +drive out on a line perpendicular to the resultant--" + +"I think I have," said Chet quietly. "If I haven't, in just a few +minutes it won't matter to any of us; it won't matter at all." He met +the gaze of Herr Doktor Kreiss who regarded him curiously. + +"If we escape," the scientist told him, "you will understand that I am +under Herr Schwartzmann's command; I will be compelled to shoot you if +he so orders. But, Herr Bullard, at this moment I would be very proud +to shake your hand." + +And Chet, as he extended his hand, managed a grin that was meant also +for the tense, white-faced Harkness and Diane. "I like to see 'em +dealt that way," he said, "--right off the top of the deck." + +But the smile was erased as he turned back to the lookout. He had to +lean close to see all of the disk, so swiftly was the approaching +globe bearing down. + + * * * * * + +It came now from the side; it swelled larger and larger before his +eyes. Their own ship seemed unmoving; only the unending thunder of the +generator told of the frantic efforts to escape. They seemed hung in +space; their own terrific speed seemed gone--added to and fused with +the orbital motion of the Dark Moon to bring swiftly closer that +messenger of death. The circle expanded silently; became menacingly +huge. + +Chet was whispering softly to himself: "If I'd got hold of her an hour +sooner--thirty minutes--or even ten.... We're doing over twenty +thousand an hour combined speed, and we'll never really hit it.... +We'll never reach the ground." + +He turned this over in his mind, and he nodded gravely in confirmation +of his own conclusions. It seemed somehow of tremendous importance +that he get this clearly thought out--this experience that was close +ahead. + +"Skin friction!" he added. "It will burn us up!" + +He had a sudden vision of a flaming star blazing a hot trail through +the atmosphere of this globe; there would be only savage eyes to +follow it--to see the line of fire curving swiftly across the +heavens.... He, himself, was seeing that blazing meteor so plainly.... + +His eyes found the lookout: the globe was gone. They were +close--close! Only for the enveloping gas that made of this a dark +moon, they would be seeing the surface, the outlines of continents. + +Chet strained his eyes--to see nothing! It was horrible. It had been +fearful enough to watch that expanding globe.... He was abruptly aware +that the outer rim of the lookout was red! + +For Chet Bullard, time ceased to have meaning; what were seconds--or +centuries--as he stared at that glowing rim? He could not have told. +The outer shell of their ship--it was radiant--shining red-hot in the +night. And above the roar of the generator came a nerve-ripping +shriek. A wind like a blast from hell was battering and tearing at +their ship. + +"Good-by!" He had tried to call; the demoniac shrieking from without +smothered his voice. One arm was across his eyes in an unconscious +motion. The air of the little room was stifling. He forced his arm +down: he would meet death face to face. + + * * * * * + +The lookout was ringed with fire; it was white with the terrible white +of burning steel!--it was golden!--then cherry red! It was dying, as +the fire dies from glowing metal plunged in its tempering bath--or +thrown into the cold reaches of space! + +In Chet's ears was the roar of a detonite motor. He tried to realize +that the lookouts were rimmed with black--cold, fireless black! An +incredible black! There were stars there like pinpoints of flame! But +conviction came only when he saw from a lookout in another wall a +circle of violet that shrank and dwindled as he watched.... + +A hand was gripping his shoulder; he heard the voice of Walter +Harkness speaking, while Walt's hand crept over to raise the triple +star that was pinned to his blouse. + +"Master Pilot of the World!" Harkness was saying. "That doesn't cover +enough territory, old man. It's another rating that you're entitled +to, but I'm damned if I know what it is." + +And, for once, Chet's ready smile refused to form. He stared dumbly at +his friend; his eyes passed to the white face of Mademoiselle Diane; +then back to the controls, where his hand, without conscious volition, +was reaching to move a metal ball. + +"Missed it!" he assured himself. "Hit the fringe of the air--just the +very outside. If we'd been twenty thousand feet nearer!..." He was +moving the ball; their bow was swinging. He steadied it and set the +ship on an approximate course. + +"A stern chase!" he said aloud. "All our momentum to be overcome--but +it's easy sailing now!" + +He pushed the ball forward to the limit, and the explosion-motor gave +thunderous response. + + +CHAPTER IV + +_The Return to the Dark Moon_ + +No man faces death in so shocking a form without feeling the effects. +Death had flicked them with a finger of flame and had passed them by. +Chet Bullard found his hands trembling uncontrollably as he fumbled +for a book and opened it. The tables of figures printed there were +blurred at first to his eyes, but he forced himself to forget the +threat that was past, for there was another menace to consider now. + +And uppermost in his mind, when his thoughts came back into some +approximate order, was condemnation of himself for an opportunity that +was gone. + +"I could have jumped him," he told himself with bitter self-reproach; +"I could have grabbed the pistol from Kreiss--the man was petrified." +And then Chet had to admit a fact there was no use of denying: "I was +as paralyzed as he was," he said, and only knew he had spoken aloud +when he saw the puzzled look that crossed Harkness' face. + +Harkness and Diane had drawn near. In a far corner of the little room +Schwartzmann had motioned to Kreiss to join him; they were as far away +from the others as could be managed. Schwartzmann, Chet judged, needed +some scientific explanation of these disturbing events; also he +needed to take the detonite pistol from Kreiss' hand and jam it into +his own hand. His eyes, at Chet's unconscious exclamation, had come +with instant suspicion toward the two men. + +"Forty-seven hours, Walt," the pilot said, and repeated it loudly for +Schwartzmann's benefit; "--forty-seven hours before we return to this +spot. We are driving out into space; we've crossed the orbit of the +Dark Moon, and we're doing twenty thousand miles an hour. + +"Now we must decelerate. It will take twenty hours to check us to zero +speed; then twenty-seven more to shoot us back to this same point +in space, allowing, of course, for a second deceleration. The same +figuring with only slight variation will cover a return to the Dark +Moon. As we sweep out I can allow for the moon-motion, and we'll hit +it at a safe landing speed on the return trip this time." + + * * * * * + +Chet was paying little attention to his companion as he spoke. His +eyes, instead, were covertly watching the bulky figure of +Schwartzmann. As he finished, their captor shot a volley of questions +at the scientist beside him; he was checking up on the pilot's +remarks. + +Chet was leaning forward to stare intently from a lookout, his head +was close to that of Harkness. + +"Listen, Walt," he whispered; "the Moon's out of sight; it's easy to +lose. Maybe I can't find it again, anyway--it's going to take some +nice navigating--but I'll miss it by ten thousand miles if you say so, +and even the Herr Doktor can't check me on it." + +Chet saw the eyes of Schwartzmann grow intent. He reached +ostentatiously for another book of tables, and he seated himself that +he might figure in comfort. + +"Just check me on this," he told Harkness. + +He put down meaningless figures, while the man beside him remained +silent. Over and over he wrote them--would Harkness never reach a +decision?--over and over, until-- + +"I don't agree with that," Harkness told him and reached for the +stylus in Chet's hand. And, while he appeared to make his own swift +computations, there were words instead of figures that flowed from his +pen. + +"Only alternative: return to Earth," he wrote. "Then S will hold off; +wait in upper levels. Kreiss will give him new bearings. We'll shoot +out again and do it better next time. Kreiss is nobody's fool. S means +to maroon us on Moon--kill us perhaps. He'll get us there, sure. We +might as well go now." + + * * * * * + +Chet had seen a movement across the room. "Let's start all over +again," he broke in abruptly. He covered the writing with a clean +sheet of paper where he set down more figures. He was well under way +when Schwartzmann's quick strides brought him towering above them. +Again the detonite pistol was in evidence; its small black muzzle +moved steadily from Harkness to Chet. + +"For your life--such as is left of it--you may thank Herr Doktor +Kreiss," he told Chet. "I thought at first you would have attempted to +kill us." His smile, as he regarded them, seemed to Chet to be +entirely evil. "You were near death twice, my dear Herr Bullard; and +the danger is not entirely removed. + +"'Forty-seven hours' you have said; in forty-seven hours you will land +us on the Dark Moon. If you do not,"--he raised the pistol +suggestively--"remember that the pilot, Max, can always take us back +to Earth. You are not indispensable." + +Chet looked at the dark face and its determined and ominous scowl. +"You're a cheerful sort of soul, aren't you?" he demanded. "Do you +have any faint idea of what a job this is? Do you know we will shoot +another two hundred thousand miles straight out before I can check +this ship? Then we come back; and meanwhile the Dark Moon has gone on +its way. Had you thought that there's a lot of room to get lost in out +here?" + +"Forty-seven hours!" said Schwartzmann. "I would advise that you do +not lose your way." + +Chet shot one quizzical glance at Harkness. + +"That," he said, "makes it practically unanimous." + +Schwartzmann, with an elaborate show of courtesy, escorted Diane +Delacouer to a cabin where she might rest. At a questioning look +between Diane and Harkness, their captor reassured them. + +"Mam'selle shall be entirely safe," he said. "She may join you here +whenever she wishes. As for you,"--he was speaking to Harkness--"I +will permit you to stay here. I could tie you up but this iss not +necessary." + +And Harkness must have agreed that it was indeed unnecessary, for +either Kreiss or Max, or some other of Schwartzmann's men, was at his +side continuously from that moment on. + + * * * * * + +Chet would have liked a chance for a quiet talk and an exchange of +ideas. It seemed that somewhere, somehow, he should be able to find an +answer to their problem. He stared moodily out into the blackness +ahead, where a distant star was seemingly their goal. Harkness stood +at his side or paced back and forth in the little room, until he threw +himself, at last, upon a cot. + +And always the great stern-blast roared; muffled by the insulated +walls, its unceasing thunder came at last to be unheard. To the pilot +there was neither sound nor motion. His directional sights were +unswervingly upon that distant star ahead. Seemingly they were +suspended, helpless and inert, in a black void. But for the occasional +glowing masses of strange living substance that flashed past in this +ocean of space, he must almost have believed they were motionless--a +dead ship in a dead, black night. + +But the luminous things flashed and were gone--and their coming, +strangely, was from astern; they flicked past and vanished up ahead. +And, by this, Chet knew that their tremendous momentum was unchecked. +Though he was using the great stern blast to slow the ship, it was +driving stern-first into outer space. Nor, for twenty hours, was there +a change, more than a slackening of the breathless speed with which +the lights went past. + +Twenty hours--and then Chet knew that they were in all truth hung +motionless, and he prayed that his figures that told him this were +correct.... More timeless minutes, an agony of waiting--and a +dimly-glowing mass that was ahead approached their bow, swung off and +vanished far astern. And, with its going, Chet knew that the return +trip was begun. + +He gave Harkness the celestial bearing marks and relinquished the +helm. "Full speed ahead as you are," he ordered: "then at +nineteen-forty on W.S. time, we'll cut it and ease on bow repulsion to +the limit." + +And, despite the strangeness of their surroundings, the ceaseless, +murmuring roar of the exhaust, the weird world outside, where endless +space was waiting for man's exploration--despite the deadly menace +that threatened, Chet dropped his head upon his outflung arms and +slept. + + * * * * * + +To his sleep-drugged brain it was scarcely a moment until a hand was +dragging at his shoulder. + +"Forty-seven hours!" the voice of Schwartzmann was saying. + +And: "Some navigating!" Harkness was exclaiming in flattering +amazement. "Wake up, Chet! Wake up! The Dark Moon's in sight. You've +hit it on the nose, old man: she isn't three points off the sights!" + +The bow-blast was roaring full on. Ahead of them Chet's sleepy eyes +found a circle of violet; and he rubbed his eyes savagely that he +might take his bearings on Sun and Earth. + +As it had been before, the Earth was a giant half-moon; like a +mirror-sphere it shot to them across the vast distance the reflected +glory of the sun. But the globe ahead was a ghostly world. Its black +disk was lost in the utter blackness of space. It was a circle, marked +only by the absence of star-points and by the halo of violet glow that +edged it about. + +Chet cut down the repelling blast. He let the circle enlarge, then +swung the ship end for end in mid-space that the more powerful stern +exhaust might be ready to counteract the gravitational pull of the new +world. + +Again those impalpable clouds surrounded them. Here was the enveloping +gas that made this a dark moon--the gas, if Harkness' theory was +correct, that let the sun's rays pass unaltered; that took the light +through freely to illumine this globe, but that barred its return +passage as reflected light. + +Black--dead black was the void into which they were plunging, until +the darkness gave way before a gentle glow that enfolded their ship. +The golden light enveloped them in growing splendor. Through every +lookout it was flooding the cabin with brilliant rays, until, from +below them, directly astern of the ship, where the thundering blast +checked their speed of descent, emerged a world. + + * * * * * + +And, to Chet Bullard, softly fingering the controls of the first ship +of space--to Chet Bullard, whose uncanny skill had brought the tiny +speck that was their ship safely back from the dark recesses of the +unknown--there came a thrill that transcended any joy of the first +exploration. + +Here was water in great seas of unreal hue--and those seas were his! +Vast continents, ripe for adventure and heavy with treasure--and they, +too, were his! His own world--his and Diane's and Walt's! Who was this +man, Schwartzmann, that dared dream of violating their possessions? + +A slender tube pressed firmly, uncompromisingly, into his back to give +the answer to his question. "Almost I wish you had missed it!" Herr +Schwartzmann was saying. "But now you will land; you will set us down +in some place that you know. No tricks, Herr Bullard! You are clever, +but not clever enough for that. We will land, yess, where you know it +is safe." + +From the lookout, the man stared for a moment with greedy eyes; then +brought his gaze back to the three. His men, beside Harkness and +Diane, were alert; the scientist, Kreiss, stood close to Chet. + +"A nice little world," Schwartzmann told them. "Herr Harkness, you +have filed claims on it; who am I to dispute with the great Herr +Harkness? Without question it iss yours!" + +He laughed loudly, while his eyes narrowed between creasing wrinkles +of flesh. "You shall enjoy it," he told them; "--all your life." + +And Chet, as he caught the gaze of Harkness and Diane, wondered how +long this enjoyment would last. "All your life!" But this was rather +indefinite as a measure of time. + + +CHAPTER V + +_A Desperate Act_ + +The ship that Chet Bullard and Harkness had designed had none of the +instruments for space navigation that the ensuing years were to bring. +Chet's accuracy was more the result of that flyer's sixth sense--that +same uncanny power that had served aviators so well in an earlier day. +But Chet was glad to see his instruments registering once more as he +approached a new world. + +Even the sonoflector was recording; its invisible rays were darting +downward to be reflected back again from the surface below. That +absolute altitude recording was a joy to read; it meant a definite +relationship with the world. + +"I'll hold her at fifty thousand," he told Harkness. "Watch for some +outline that you can remember from last time." + +There was an irregular area of continental size; only when they had +crossed it did Harkness point toward an outflung projection of land. +"That peninsula," he exclaimed; "we saw that before! Swing south and +inland.... Now down forty, and east of south.... This ought to be the +spot." + +Perhaps Harkness, too, had the flyer's indefinable power of +orientation. He guided Chet in the downward flight, and his pointing +finger aimed at last at a cluster of shadows where a setting sun +brought mountain ranges into strong relief. Chet held the ship steady, +hung high in the air, while the quick-spreading mantle of night swept +across the world below. And, at last, when the little world was +deep-buried in shadow, they saw the red glow of fires from a hidden +valley in the south. + +"Fire Valley!" said Chet. "Don't say anything about me being a +navigator. Wait, you've brought us home, sure enough." + +"Home!" He could not overcome this strange excitement of a home-coming +to their own world. Even the man who stood, pistol in hand, behind him +was, for the moment, forgotten. + +Valley of a thousand fires!--scene of his former adventures! Each +fumerole was adding its smoky red to the fiery glow that illumined the +place. There were ragged mountains hemming it in; Chet's gaze passed +on to the valley's end. + +Down there, where the fires ceased, there would be water; he would +land there! And the ship from Earth slipped down in a long slanting +line to cushion against its under exhausts, whose soft thunder echoed +back from a bare expanse of frozen lava. Then its roaring faded. The +silvery shape sank softly to its rocky bed, as Chet cut the motor that +had sung its song of power since the moment when Schwartzmann had +carried him off--taken him from that frozen, forgotten corner of an +incredibly distant Earth. + + * * * * * + +"Iss there air?" Schwartzmann demanded. Chet came to himself again +with a start: he saw the man peering from the lookout to right and to +left as if he would see all that there was in the last light of day. + +"Strange!" he was grumbling to himself. "A strange place! But those +hills--I saw their markings--there will be metals there. I will +explore; later I return: I will mine them. Many ships I must build to +establish a line. The first transportation line of space. Me, Jacob +Schwartzmann--I will do it. I will haff more than anyone else on +Earth; I will make them all come to me crawling on their bellies!" + +Chet saw the hard shine of the narrowed eyes. For an instant only, he +dared to consider the chance of leaping upon the big, gloating figure. +One blow and a quick snatch for the pistol!... Then he knew the folly +of such a plan: Schwartzmann's men were armed; he would be downed in +another second, his body a shattered, jellied mass. + +Schwartzmann's thoughts had come back to the matter of air; he +motioned Chet and Harkness toward the port. + +Diane Delacouer had joined them and she thrust herself quickly between +the two men. And, though Schwartzmann made a movement as if he would +snatch her back, he thought better of it and motioned for the portal +to be swung. Chet felt him close behind as he followed the others out +into the gathering dark. + + * * * * * + +The air was heavy with the fragrance of night-blooming trees. They +were close to the edge of the lava flow. The rock was black in the +light of a starry sky; it dropped away abruptly to a lower glade. A +stream made silvery sparklings in the night, while beyond it were +waving shadows of strange trees whose trunks were ghostly white. + +It was all so familiar.... Chet smiled understandingly as he saw Walt +Harkness' arm go about the trim figure of Diane Delacouer. No mannish +attire could disguise Diane's charms; nor could nerve and cold courage +that any man might envy detract from her femininity. Her dark, curling +hair was blowing back from her upraised face as the scented breezes +played about her; and the soft beauty of that face was enhanced by the +very starlight that revealed it. + +It was here that Walt and Diane had learned to love; what wonder that +the fragrant night brought only remembrance, and forgetfulness of +their present plight. But Chet Bullard, while he saw them and smiled +in sympathy, knew suddenly that other eyes were watching, too; he felt +the bulky figure of Herr Schwartzmann beside him grow tense and rigid. + +But Schwartzmann's voice, when he spoke, was controlled. "All right," +he called toward the ship; "all iss safe." + +Yet Chet wondered at that sudden tensing, and an uneasy presentiment +found entrance to his thoughts. He must keep an eye on Schwartzmann, +even more than he had supposed. + +Their captor had threatened to maroon them on the Dark Moon. Chet did +not question his intent. Schwartzmann would have nothing to gain by +killing them now. It would be better to leave them here, for he might +find them useful later on. But did he plan to leave them all or only +two? Behind the steady, expressionless eyes of the Master Pilot, +strange thoughts were passing.... + + * * * * * + +There were orders, at length, to return to the ship. "It is dark +already," Schwartzmann concluded: "nothing can be accomplished at +night." + +"How long are the days and nights?" he asked Harkness. + +"Six hours," Harkness told him; "our little world spins fast." + +"Then for six hours we sleep," was the order. And again Herr +Schwartzmann conducted Mademoiselle Delacouer to her cabin, while Chet +Bullard watched until he saw the man depart and heard the click of the +lock on the door of Diane's room. + +Then for six hours he listened to the sounds of sleeping men who were +sprawled about him on the floor; for six hours he saw the one man who +sat on guard beside a light that made any thought of attack absurd. +And he cursed himself for a fool, as he lay wakeful and vainly +planning--a poor, futile fool who was unable to cope with this man who +had bested him. + +Nineteen seventy-three!--and here were Harkness and Diane and himself, +captured by a man who was mentally and morally a misfit in a modern +world. A throw-back--that was Schwartzmann: Harkness had said it. He +belonged back in nineteen fourteen. + +Harkness was beyond the watching guard; from where he lay came sounds +of restless movement. Chet knew that he was not alone in this mood of +hopeless dejection. There was no opportunity for talk; only with the +coming of day did the two find a chance to exchange a few quick words. + +The guard roused the others at the first light of sunlight beyond the +ports. Harkness sauntered slowly to where Chet was staring from a +lookout. He, too, leaned to see the world outside, and he spoke +cautiously in a half-whisper: + +"Not a chance, Chet. No use trying to bluff this big crook any more. +He's here, and he's safe; and he knows it as well as we do. We'll let +him ditch us--you and Diane and me. Then, when we're on our own, we'll +watch our chance. He will go crazy with what he finds--may get +careless--then we'll seize the ship--" His words ended abruptly. As +Schwartzmann came behind them, he was casually calling Chet's +attention to a fumerole from which a jet of vapor had appeared. +Yellowish, it was; and the wind was blowing it. + +Chet turned away; he hardly saw Schwartzmann or heard Harkness' words. +He was thinking of what Walt had said. Yes, it was all they could do; +there was no chance of a fight with them now. But later! + +Diane Delacouer came into the control-room at the instant; her dark +eyes were still lovely with sleep, but they brightened to flash an +encouraging smile toward the two men. There were five of +Schwartzmann's men in the ship besides the pilot and the scientist, +Kreiss. They all crowded in after Diane. + +They must have had their orders in advance; Schwartzmann merely +nodded, and they sprang upon Harkness and Chet. The two were caught +off their guard; their arms were twisted behind them before resistance +could be thought of. Diane gave a cry, started forward, and was +brushed back by a sweep of Schwartzmann's arm. The man himself stood +staring at them, unmoving, wordless. Only the flesh about his eyes +gathered into creases to squeeze the eyes to malignant slits. There +was no mistaking the menace in that look. + + * * * * * + +"I think we do not need you any more," he said at last. "I think, Herr +Harkness, this is the end of our little argument--and, Herr Harkness, +you lose. Now, I will tell you how it iss that you pay. + +"You haff thought, perhaps, I would kill you. But you were wrong, as +you many times have been. You haff not appreciated my kindness; you +haff not understood that mine iss a heart of gold. + +"Even I was not sure before we came what it iss best to do. But now I +know. I saw oceans and many lands on this world. I saw islands in +those oceans. + +"You so clever are--such a great thinker iss Herr Harkness--and on one +of those islands you will haff plenty of time to think--yess! You can +think of your goot friend, Schwartzmann and of his kindness to you." + +"You are going to maroon us on an island?" asked Walt Harkness +hoarsely. Plainly his plans for seizing the ship were going awry. "You +are going to put the three of us off in some lost corner of this +world?" + +Chet Bullard was silent until he saw the figure of Harkness struggling +to throw off his two guards. "Walt," he called loudly, "take it easy! +For God's sake, Walt, keep your head!" + +This, Chet sensed, was no time for resistance. Let Schwartzmann go +ahead with his plans; let him think them complacent and unresisting; +let Max pilot the ship; then watch for an opening when they could land +a blow that would count! He heard Schwartzmann laughing now, laughing +as if he were enjoying something more pleasing than the struggles of +Walt. + + * * * * * + +Chet was standing by the controls. The metal instrument-table was +beside him; above it was the control itself, a metal ball that hung +suspended in air within a cage of curved bars. + +It was pure magic, this ball-control, where magnetic fields crossed +and recrossed; it was as if the one who held it were a genie who could +throw the ship itself where he willed. Glass almost enclosed the cage +of bars, and the whole instrument swung with the self-compensating +platform that adjusted itself to the "gravitation" of accelerated +speed. The pilot, Max, had moved across to the instrument-table, ready +for the take-off. + +Schwartzmann's laughter died to a gurgling chuckle. He wiped his eyes +before he replied to Harkness' question. + +"Leave you," he said, "in one place? _Nein!_ One here, the other +there. A thousand miles apart, it might be. And not all three of you. +That would be so unkind--" + +He interrupted himself to call to Kreiss who was opening the port. + +"No," he ordered; "keep it closed. We are not going outside; we are +going up." + +But Kreiss had the port open. "I want a man to get some fresh water," +he said; "he will only be a minute." + +He shoved at a waiting man to hurry him through the doorway. It was +only a gentle push; Chet wondered as he saw the man stagger and grasp +at his throat. He was coughing--choking horribly for an instant +outside the open port--then fell to the ground, while his legs jerked +awkwardly, spasmodically. + +Chet saw Kreiss follow. The scientist would have leaped to the side of +the stricken man, whose body was so still now on the sunlit rock; but +he, too, crumpled, then staggered back into the room. He pushed feebly +at the port and swung it shut. His face, as he turned, was drawn into +fearful lines. + +"Acid!" He choked out the words between strangled breaths. +"Acid--sulfuric--fumes!" + + * * * * * + +Chet turned quickly to the spectro-analyzer; the lines of oxygen and +nitrogen were merged with others, and that meant an atmosphere unfit +for human lungs! There had been a fumerole where yellowish vapor was +spouting; he remembered it now. + +"So!" boomed Schwartzmann, and now his squinting eyes were full on +Chet. "You--you _schwein!_ You said when we opened the ports there +would be a surprise! Und this iss it! You thought to see us kill +ourselves!" + +"Open the port!" he shouted. The men who held Chet released him and +sprang forward to obey. The pilot, Max, took their place. He put one +hand on Chet's shoulder, while his other hand brought up a +threatening, metal bar. + +Schwartzmann's heavy face had lost its stolid look; it was alive with +rage. He thrust his head forward to glare at the men, while he stood +firmly, his feet far apart, two heavy fists on his hips. He whirled +abruptly and caught Diane by one arm. He pulled her roughly to him and +encircled the girl's trim figure with one huge arm. + +"Put you _all_ on one island?" he shouted. "Did you think I would put +you _all_ out of the ship? You"--he pointed at Harkness--"and +you"--this time it was Chet--"go out now. You can die in your damned +gas that you expected would kill me! But, you fools, you +imbeciles--Mam'selle, she stays with me!" The struggling girl was +helpless in the great arm that drew her close. + +Harkness' mad rage gave place to a dead stillness. From bloodless lips +in a chalk-white face he spat out one sentence: + +"Take your filthy hands off her--now--or I'll--" + +Schwartzmann's one free hand still held the pistol. He raised it with +deadly deliberation; it came level with Harkness' unflinching eyes. + +"Yes?" said Schwartzmann. "You will do--what?" + + * * * * * + +Chet saw the deadly tableau. He knew with a conviction that gripped +his heart that here was the end. Walt would die and he would be next. +Diane would be left defenseless.... The flashing thought that followed +came to him as sharply as the crack of any pistol. It seemed to burst +inside his brain, to lift him with some dynamic power of its own and +project him into action. + +He threw himself sideways from under the pilot's hand, out from +beneath the heavy metal bar--and he whirled, as he leaped, to face the +man. One lean, brown hand clenched to a fist that started a long +swing from somewhere near his knees; it shot upward to crash beneath +the pilot's out-thrust jaw and lift him from the floor. Max had aimed +the bar in a downward sweep where Chet's head had been the moment +before; and now man and bar went down together. In the same instant +Chet threw himself upon the weapon and leaped backward to his feet. + +One frozen second, while, to Chet, the figures seemed as motionless as +if carved from stone--two men beside the half-opened port--Harkness in +convulsive writhing between two others--the figure of Diane, strained, +tense and helpless in Schwartzmann's grasp--and Schwartzmann, whose +aim had been disturbed, steadying the pistol deliberately upon +Harkness-- + +"Wait!" Chet's voice tore through the confusion. He knew he must grip +Schwartzmann's attention--hold that trigger finger that was tensed to +send a detonite bullet on its way. "Wait, damn you! I'll answer your +question. I'll tell you what we'll do!" + +In that second he had swung the metal bar high; now he brought it +crashing down in front of him. Schwartzmann flinched, half turned as +if to fire at Chet, and saw the blow was not for him. + +With a splintering crash, the bar went through an obstruction. There +was sound of glass that slivered to a million mangled bits--the sharp +tang of metal broken off--a crash and clatter--then silence, save for +one bit of glass that fell belatedly to the floor, its tiny jingling +crash ringing loud in the deathly stillness of the room.... + +It had been the control-room, this place of metal walls and of +shining, polished instruments, and it could be called that no longer. +For, battered to useless wreckage, there lay on a metal table a cage +that had once been formed of curving bars. Among the fragments a metal +ball that had guided the great ship still rocked idly from its fall, +until it, too, was still. + +It was a room where nothing moved--where no person so much as +breathed.... + +Then came the Master Pilot's voice, and it was speaking with quiet +finality. + +"And that," he said, "is your answer. Our ship has made its last +flight." + +His eyes held steadily upon the blanched face of Herr Schwartzmann, +whose limp arms released the body of Diane; the pistol hung weakly at +the man's side. And the pilot's voice went on, so quiet, so hushed--so +curiously toneless in that silent room. + +"What was it that you said?--that Harkness and I would be staying +here? Well, you were right when you said that, Schwartzmann; but it's +a hard sentence, that--imprisonment for life." + +Chet paused now, to smile deliberately, grimly at the dark face so +bleached and bloodless, before he repeated: + +"Imprisonment for life!--and you didn't know that you were sentencing +yourself. For you're staying too, Schwartzmann, you contemptible, +thieving dog! You're staying with us--here--on the Dark Moon!" + +(_To be continued._) + + + + +If The Sun Died + +_By R. F. Starzl_ + +[Illustration: Crack! Again Mich'l's fist caught him.] + + +[Sidenote: Tens of millenniums after the Death of the Sun there comes +a young man who dares to open the Frozen Gate of Subterranea.] + +By our system of time we would have called it around 65,000 A. D., but +in this cavern world, miles below the long-forgotten surface of the +earth, it was 49,889. Since the Death of the Sun. That legendary sun +was but a dim racial memory, but the 24-hour day, based on its +illusory travel across the sky, was still maintained by uranium +clocks, by which the myriads who dwelt in the galleries and maze of +the under-world warrens regulated their lives. + +In the office of the nation's central electro-plant sat a young man. +He was unoccupied at the moment. He was an example of the marvelously +slow process of evolution, for, to all outward appearances he differed +little from a Twentieth Century man. Keen intelligence sat on his +fine-cut, kindly young face. In general build he was lighter, more +refined than a man of the past. Yet even the long, delicately colored +robe of mineral silk which he wore could not detract from his obvious +virility and strength. + +His face flashed in a smile when a girl suddenly appeared in the +middle of the room, materializing, so it seemed, out of nowhere. She +resembled him to some extent, except that she was exquisitely +feminine, dark-haired, with a skin of warm ivory, while he was blond +and ruddy. Her tinkling, silvery voice was troubled as she asked: + +"Have I your leave to stay, Mich'l Ares?" + +The look of adoration he gave her was answer enough, but he answered +with the conventional formula, "It is given." He rose to his feet, +walked right through the seemingly solid vision and made an adjustment +on a bank of dials. Then he walked through the apparition again and, +standing beside his chair, looked at her inquiringly. + +"You haven't forgotten, Mich'l, this is the day of the Referendum?" + +Mich'l smiled slightly. It would be a day of confusion in Subterranea +if he should forget. As chief of the technies he was in direct charge +of the tabulating machines that would, a few seconds after the vote, +give the result in the matter of the opening of the Frozen Gate. But +the girl's concern sobered him instantly. On the decision of the +people at noon depended the life work of her father, Senator Mane. And +it was now nine o'clock. + +"I am sure they will order the Gate opened," he said instantly. "All +the technies are agreed that your father is right, that the Great +Cold was only another, more severe ice age--not the death of the Sun. +The technies--" + + * * * * * + +Just as the girl had seemingly materialized, a young man now stood +beside her. In appearance he was a picture of pride, power, arrogance, +and definite danger. His hawk-like, patrician features were smiling. +This olive-skinned, dark young rival of Mich'l was Lane Mollon, son of +Senator Mollon, ruthless administration leader and bitter opponent of +Senator Mane's Exodus faction. + +Lane looked at Mich'l insolently. + +"Have I your leave to stay, Mich'l Ares?" he asked. + +"It is given," said Mich'l without enthusiasm. + +"I'm not calling on you of my own will, Mich'l," the apparition of +young Mollon said contemptuously, "but Nida had the telucid turned on +as I stepped into the room." + +"It's as well for you that you're not here personally," Mich'l replied +promptly. "The last time we met I believe I was obliged to knock you +down." + +Lane Mollon flushed, with a sidelong glance at Nida. The girl gave +Mich'l a frightened look. + +Lane interpreted her concern rightly. + +"Ordinarily it's not safe to try anything like that with me. I could +have you executed in half an hour. But I don't have to call on the +State to punish you. Nida, you'll admit I'm taking no unfair advantage +of him?" + +"Oh, I do, Lane, but--" + +Lane reached out his hand to the dial, invisible to Mich'l, which +operated the telucid apparatus, and immediately the apparitions +vanished. Mich'l looked at his own telucid, its great unwinking eye +set in the wall. But he did not project his own illusory body to the +girl's home. He was a technie--one of the pitifully few trained men +and women who kept the intricate automatic machinery working. On them +rested the immense, stupid civilization of the caverns, and there was +work to do. Mich'l felt that on this morning of her father's greatest +trial Nida would pay scant attention to Lane. + + * * * * * + +Mich'l was testing some of the controls when Gobet Hanlon came in. +Gobet was also a technie, and Mich'l's special friend. Like Mich'l, he +wore the light robe that was universal among the civilians in the +equable climate of the caverns. He walked with the light, springy step +that was somehow characteristic of the specialized class to which he +belonged, as distinguished from the languid gait of the pampered, lazy +populace. Attached to his girdle of flat chain links was a tiny +computing machine about as large as the palm of a man's hand. For +Gobet did most of the mathematical work. + +"You'll want me at the tabulating section?" Gobet stated inquiringly. + +"It may be well," Mich'l smiled. "For the first time in centuries, I +believe, the general public is going to vote." + +"Flos Entine wants to come along." + +Mich'l's smile changed to a grin. He knew the pretty, willful little +sweetheart of Gobet's. If she wanted to be at the tabulating plant she +would be there. + +"In fact," Gobet confessed somewhat sheepishly, "she is in the car." + +The car was waiting in the gallery. It had no visible support, but +hovered a few inches above the floor above one of two parallel +aluminum alloy strips that stretched, like the trolley tracks of the +ancients, throughout all the galleries. The ancients well knew that +aluminum is repelled by magnetism, but the race had lived in the +caverns for centuries before evolving an alloy that possessed this +repulsive power to a degree strong enough to support a considerable +weight. + +Under Mich'l's guidance the car moved forward silently, through +interminable busy streets with arched roofs, lined on either side with +doors that led to homes, theaters and food distributing automats. +Occasionally they passed public gardens, purely ornamental, in which a +few specimens of vegetation were preserved. They passed multitudes of +people, most of them handsome with a pampered, hot-house prettiness, +but betraying the peculiar lassitude which had been sapping the +energies of this once dynamic race for millennia. Yet to-day they +showed almost eagerness. The name of Leo Mane, prophet of deliverance, +was on every tongue. And what was the Sun like? Like the great +vita-lights that were prescribed by law and evaded by everyone, except +possibly the technies? Those technies--they seemed to delight in work! +Curious glances fell on the gliding car. Some work in connection with +the Referendum? What must one do to vote? Oh, the telucid! + + * * * * * + +Arriving at Administration Circle, the car entered a vast excavation +half a mile in diameter, possibly a thousand feet high at the dome. +Here were the entrances to some of the principal Government warrens. +Here also centered the streets, like radiating spokes of a wheel, on +which many of the officials lived. Here the emanation bulbs were more +frequent than in the galleries, so that the light was almost glaring. +Guards of soldier-police, the stolid, well-fed, specialized class +produced by centuries of a static civilization, were everywhere. Not +in the memory of their grandparents had they done any fighting, but in +their short, brightly colored tunics, flaring trousers and little +kepis they looked very smart. Their only weapon was a small tube +capable of projecting a lethal light-ray. + +Mich'l led his party to the audience hall. It was only a few hundred +feet in diameter. At one end was the speaker's rostrum. Senator Mane +was already there. He was tall, purposeful, but withal tired and +wistful looking. His graying hair was cut at the nape of his neck, +sweeping back from his swelling temples in a manner really suggestive +of a mane. His large, luminous eyes lit up. + +"Is it nearly time?" + +"Yes, Senator," Mich'l said. "The nation will soon assemble." + +"You have met Senator Mollon?" + +"I have had the pleasure," Mich'l acknowledged with polite irony, +"since Senator Mollon gives me practically all my orders." + +Mollon acknowledged the tribute with a quick smile, without rising +from his chair. He, too, was different from the average Subterranean +in that he was forceful and aggressive, like Senator Mane. He was +still youngish looking, of powerful, blocky build. His dark hair was +carefully parted in the middle and brushed down sleekly. The Twentieth +Century had known his prototype, the successful, powerful, utterly +unscrupulous politician; and in a different sphere, that type of +extra-Governmental ruler which the ancients called "gangster." It was +casually discussed in Subterranea that certain of the state +soldier-police were responsible for the mysterious assassinations that +had so conveniently removed most of the effective resistance to +Mollon's progress in the Senate. The once potent body had not held a +session in ten years: didn't dare to, a cynical and indifferent public +said. And a strange reluctance on the part of qualified men to accept +the Presidential nomination had left that office unfilled for the past +three years. Mollon, as party dictator, performed the duties of +President provisionally. + + * * * * * + +Flos, mischievous as usual, rounded her great blue eyes and gazed at +Mollon with an expression of rapt admiration. + +"Oh, Senator," she thrilled, "I think it's wonderful of you to give +Senator Mane an opportunity to debate with you. You are so kind!" + +Mollon failed to detect any mockery, luckily for Flos. He looked at +her with half-closed eyes. + +"The public must be satisfied," he rumbled. "Senator Mane has aroused +in them great hopes. A small matter might be adjusted, but only a +Referendum will satisfy them in this." + +"But Senator, the race is going to ruin. If we could get into the Sun +again--wouldn't you want that?" + +"I don't believe there is a 'Sun'," Mollon replied; then, with the +candor of one who is perfectly sure of himself, added: + +"If Mane were right, I still couldn't permit the Frozen Gate to be +opened. I can control the people for their own good, here; it might +not be possible Outside." + +A deep musical note sounded. Suddenly the myriad inhabitants of +Subterranea seemed to be milling around in the room. Actually their +bodies were in their dwelling cells, but their telucid images filled +the hall. By a simple adjustment of the power circuit, their images, +instead of being life size, were made only about an inch high, +permitting the accommodation of the entire nation in the hall. Their +millions of tiny voices, mingling, made a sighing sound. + + * * * * * + +Mane rose and stepped forward, raising his hand. + +"Citizens of Subterranea," he began in powerful, resonant tones, and +then went on to put into his address all the fervor of a lifetime of +endeavor. He told them of those times in the dim past when the human +race still dwelt on the surface of the earth. Of the Sun that poured +out inexhaustible floods of life and light; of the green things that +were grown, not only to look at, but for food for all living things +before food was made synthetically out of mined chemicals. Of the +world overrun by a teeming, happy, dynamic civilization. + +"Then something happened. The Sun seemed to give less light, less +heat. Perhaps we ran into a cloud of cosmic dust that intercepted the +Sun's rays. Perhaps the cause was to be found in some change in the +Sun's internal structure. But the effects could not be doubted. Ice +began to come down from the poles. Ice barriers higher than the +highest towers covered the world, wiping out all life but the most +energetic. + +"Our ancestors, and many other advanced nations, began to burrow +toward the hot interior of the earth. We to-day have no idea of the +labor that went into the digging of our underground home. We are +becoming degenerate. More and more of us, even those who still use the +vita-lights, are becoming pale and flabby. There are hardly enough +technies to keep the automatic machinery in order. What will happen +when those technies also deteriorate, and lose the will to work? For +deteriorate they must, just as Senator Mollon and his still active +allies will. Just as I will, if I live long enough. There is a great +force that we never know here. It is called the cosmic ray. It never +penetrates to our depth. And our vita-lights do not produce it." + +He then spoke of the proposed Exodus, argued, pleaded, painted a rosy +picture of the outer world, of a Sun come back, a world of brightness +and life. At the conclusion of his speech a sigh arose from the +assembled millions--a sigh of hope, of half belief. Had the vote been +taken then the Frozen Gate would have been opened. + + * * * * * + +But Senator Mollon was on the rostrum, holding up a square, well +manicured hand for attention. In his deep rumbling bass he tore the +arguments for the Exodus to shreds. With the whip of fear he drove +away hope. + +"If our savage ancestors lived on the inhospitable outer shell of the +earth," he shouted, "is that a reason for our taking that retrograde +step? Read your histories. What happened to our neighboring nation of +Atlantica only a short 15,000 years ago? They did just as this man is +urging--opened their outer gate. It promptly froze open, and liquid +air, the remnant of what in primordial days was an outer atmosphere, +poured down the tunnels. The whole nation died, and we saved ourselves +only by blasting the connecting passages between them and us with +fulminite." + +A wave of fear passed over the tiny massed figures. For centuries the +race had been rapidly losing all initiative, except for those few +leaders who, through superior stamina and religious devotion to the +artificial sun-rays, had maintained something of their pristine +energy. + +Now they were hysterical with fear of the unknown. Even as Mich'l Ares +adjusted the parabolic antenna of the thought-receptor vote-counting +machine, he knew what the verdict would be. In a moment the vote was +flashed on a screen on the ceiling: 421 in favor of the Exodus and +2,733,485 against it. There was an eery cheer from the people, and +they began to dissolve like smoke. Mollon rose, bowed politely and +smilingly, and walked out to where his magnetic car awaited him. + + * * * * * + +It was with a feeling of deep depression that Mich'l Ares went to work +the next morning. His despair was shared by the technies under him +with whom he talked. At the telestereo station he found a bitter young +man broadcasting a prepared commentary on the election ordered by +Senator Mollon. It was congratulatory in nature, designed to confirm +popular opinion that the nation had been saved from a great +catastrophe and to glorify the principles of Mollon's party. + +"... And so once more this great nation has demonstrated its ability +to govern itself, to protect itself against dangerous and unsocial +experiments. The voice of the people is the voice of God. The +Government claims for itself no credit for this momentous decision. +Each citizen has done his share toward the continuation of our safety, +our prosperity...." + +The young man finished the document, smiled a charming smile, and +turned off the switch. Then he grimaced his disgust and lapsed into a +glum meditation. + +"What say, Kratz?" Mich'l asked. + +"Trouble again on the west sector. Had trouble getting power enough. +Generators ought to be overhauled." He made a helpless gesture. + +"How about conscripting a little labor?" + +"Tried it this morning. Most of the people are still in a daze from +chewing too much merclite. Those that're sober are too busy preening +themselves for voting on the winning side." + +Kratz informed Mich'l that Mollon had that morning given up all +pretense of constitutional government, had preempted the treasury, and +was consolidating his position as avowed dictator. + +"He probably wanted to do that a long time," Mich'l commented. "He +didn't quite dare till that Referendum yesterday gave him the real +measure of the public. Well, I've got to be going." + + * * * * * + +Mich'l took one of the small mechanical service tunnels back to his +office. This latest news had hardly affected him, so keen was his +disappointment over the defeat of the Exodus. But he wanted to be +alone. He walked through vast halls full of machinery, abandoned and +rusting, through dark corridors that had once roared with industrial +life. What would happen when the present overloaded machinery should +break down; wear out? The remnants of the great technical army could +hardly serve what was left. Each passing year these silent, useless +hulks became more numerous. The specter of famine was stalking amid +the dusty pipes and empty vats of the chemical plants; the horrors of +darkness lurked amid the tarnished compression spheres and the long, +hooded monstrosities of the power plants, inadequately served by +harassed and overworked technies. + +In the middle of his office Mich'l found the telucid counterpart of +Mila, sister of Nida Mane. She was younger than Nida, hardly more than +sixteen. Her eyes were wide with terror as she sought Mich'l. Her +cheeks were wet with tears, and her silken brown hair fell in careless +disarray. + +"Mich'l!" she cried, as soon as she saw him. "Lane Mollon has taken +Nida!" + +"Taken her!" + +"And Father is under arrest. Lane came this morning, crazy with +merclite gum. He had four or five soldiers with him. When Nida refused +to see him they broke down the door and went to her room. They dragged +her out to Lane's car, and he took her to his warren near the +Presidential quarters." + +"She there now?" + +"Yes. Father followed Lane's car. Guards kept him out of Lane's +warren, so he went to see Mollon. That devil only laughed at him, +offered to call another Referendum. Father had a small pocket +needle-ray and--" + +"Good! He killed Mollon?" + +"No. But he managed to burn a hole through his arm. He was rushed off +to one of the cells. And Mollon says he will call a Referendum to +decide Father's fate." + +"It would be just like that devil's sense of humor to let the people +decree their only friend's death." + + * * * * * + +"They'll do it, too!" Mila exclaimed tragically. "Oh, how I wish +Mother were alive!" + +"And each one will feel deep within him that he has done a great, +commendable and original thing!" Mich'l added, with keen insight. + +Mila sank to the floor. + +"Go to your room," Mich'l said, gently stern. "Mollon and his gang +have reckoned without the technies." A woman's image appeared, +stooping commiseratingly over Mila--a friend of the family. Mich'l +ordered her to care for Mila. Then, he took a deep breath. Gone was +his feeling of helpless sorrow, leaving only an overwhelming, +steadying, satisfying anger. He flung the telucid switch, barked +cracking orders. + +In half an hour every technical man of Subterranea was in a large +storeroom near Mich'l's office. They were mostly young, keen and +alert, their skins red or brown from the actinic lights, their hair +showing more or less bleaching from the same cause. As Mich'l talked +they became intent: they listened with a cold, deadly silence that +would perhaps have made the smug millions of Subterranea quake with +fear. + +This affront put upon the only man in the Government who could speak +their language, who could comprehend their ideals: the peril of the +girl they all knew and loved: these things set their long-repressed +resentment flaring to white heat. They were ready for desperate +things. A turn of a valve and water would thunder through the maze of +galleries; a mishap far, far down toward the earth's hot core, and +steam would rush up-- + + * * * * * + +But Mich'l steadied them. After all, Subterranea was their country. +Anarchy was far from the technie ideals. He had a plan. + +"Nothing is to be done until we have Senator Mane and Nida," Mich'l +instructed them. "Remember that! Do nothing until you hear from me. +Each of you go to your station. Set all adjustments so that they will +not need attention for some weeks, at least. Those of you who have +families, tell them to be ready to move to another residence. Say +nothing about any trouble--understand?" + +There were nods of assent. + +"You will proceed to your posts and keep busy. When I come it'll be by +telucid. I will say nothing. I will simply wave my hand. That means +you are to take your wives, your families, your sweethearts, to +Substation No. 37X." + +There were audible gasps. + +"Not 37X!" exclaimed one of the older men. "Why, that's twenty miles +up, near the Frozen Gate!" + +"Yes!" Mich'l smiled with tight lips. "You men willing?" + +There was an instantaneous shout of approval. Curiously enough, +seizure of the Gate by force had not occurred to any of this +law-abiding, well-disciplined group. But Mollon's lawless seizure of +the Government had removed all inhibitions of that sort. Seizure of +the Gate would bring at one stroke the realization of the dream that +the technies had tried for generations to win by political means. +Surely, when the Gate was open, and they could see the glorious, +half-mythical Sun for themselves, the people would consent to the +Exodus! + +For the technies, even in the bitterness of defeat, were not +anti-social. They hoped and worked for the devitalized races of +Subterranea, for the betterment of their condition, more than for +their own. The technies were the fittest; they had demonstrated their +ability to survive unchanged under adverse condition. They would be +least helped by the Exodus. Yet they had worked for it all their +lives, as had their fathers before them, out of unselfish love for +humanity. There have always been such men. Through the murk of history +we see their lives as small, steady lights, infrequent and lonely. +With the opening of the Frozen Gate suddenly a possibility, the +technies forgot their exasperation with the stupid mob. + + * * * * * + +"The Gate is guarded," said an elderly man dubiously. + +"A small guard," Gobet Hanlon remarked quickly, "and probably dazed +with merclite. Nothing to fear." + +"Stay away from the Gate," Mich'l instructed. "Give no cause for +alarm. If an emergency arises while I'm gone, see Gobet." + +"Don't go alone, Mich'l," Gobet begged. "A few of us with ray-needles +can storm the detention cells. We can clean out Lane's warren." + +"We might, but the Senator and Nida would be gone. The alarm would be +given. In a few minutes there'd be a mob." + +The technies were already dispersing eagerly. Mich'l pressed his +friend's hand, saying: + +"I'll take my needle-ray, and I know every way to get around there is. +Alone, I'll attract no attention. Till later, Gobet!" And he was gone. + +Mich'l's way was through the smaller, less frequented communication +passages used principally by the technies. Occasionally he did meet +citizens, still light-headed after their election victory celebration, +and lost, but he paid them no heed. He came to the ventilation center +of that level. + +For ages no air had entered Subterranea from the outside. All of the +air had to be regularly reconditioned, and so was returned, through a +systematic network of air ducts, to a vast, central chemical plant. It +was a latter-day Cave of the Winds, where the north, south, east and +west winds of that buried empire regularly returned for a brief few +minutes of play amid chemical sprays, condensers, humidifiers, +oxydisers, to be again dispatched to their drudgery. This hall was +truly colossal, filled to the shadowy ceilings, a thousand feet high, +with gigantic pipes, tanks, wind-turbines. + + * * * * * + +The technie in charge had not yet returned, but Mich'l consulted the +distribution plan, and soon located the duct that led to Lane Mollon's +warren. In a few minutes he was running, helped along by a strong +current of fresh air. The map had shown the warren to be about a mile +away. For the benefit of the technies who had to work there, the duct +was plainly marked; and the lighting, by infrequent emanation bulbs, +was adequate, though dim. + +Mich'l had made no plans for a course of action after arriving at his +destination. He felt reasonably sure that if he could get into the +warren he would have a good chance to escape with Nida. In the +confusion he could hide her nearby, and perhaps effect the release of +the senator also. He had no doubt about his fate if he were caught. +Lane's pose of good sportsmanship having failed to impress Nida, he +had adopted simple, brutal coercion. Mich'l's fate, if caught +interfering, would be summary execution. + +Mich'l found the grating which he sought. It bore the key number of +Lane's establishment. The key which would unlock it was of course in +the hands of the police; but the bars were badly corroded, and Mich'l +managed to bend them enough to permit the passage of his body. + +He found himself in a small chamber, from which ducts led to all parts +of the warren. These ducts were too small to permit passage of his +body, however; it would be necessary to come into the open. A small +metal door promised egress. Mich'l climbed out, and faced a surprised +cook in the kitchen, engaged in flavoring synthetic food drinks. +Mich'l said explanatorily: + +"Inspection, air service." + +The cook did not know the regulations about keeping the air tunnels +locked. Moreover, he, like all other servants of the mighty, worked +unwillingly, being conscripted. He only grunted. + + * * * * * + +Mich'l made a pretense of testing the air currents. Presently he +stepped into one of the communicating corridors. The warren was +planned something like a house of the Surface Age, with luxuriously +furnished rooms, baths, dining halls, and all the appurtenances of +wealth. Arriving at a rotunda, in the center of which was a glowing +fountain, Mich'l encountered a guard. Boldly he asked him: + +"Where is Mr. Mollon? I wish to see him." + +The guard looked surprised. + +"About Nida Mane, sir? I would hardly dare." + +Mich'l looked at the man sharply, but there was no hint of recognition +in the stupid, phlegmatic face. + +"What about Nida Mane? It is about her I wish to speak." + +There was a slight stirring of interest in the soldier's face. + +"He will be glad to see you, sir, if you bring news of her." + +"Eh, yes? Perhaps what I have to tell will be of no interest to him." + +"If you can tell him where she is he will ask no more of you." + +"She made good her escape then?" + +Slow suspicion was dawning at last. + +"For one who brings news you ask a lot of questions," the guard +remarked heavily, as his hand slipped to the needle-ray weapon at his +side. "Show your pass!" + +Like a flash Mich'l was upon him, his hand at the thick throat, the +other grasping the wrist. Although the soldier, like the majority of +the populace, lacked the intense vitality of the technies, he had +stubborn strength, and he fought effectively in the drilled, automatic +way of his kind. Mich'l was further handicapped by the necessity of +maintaining silence. One shout, and a dozen needle-rays would no doubt +perforate his body with holes and slash his flesh with smoldering +cuts. + + * * * * * + +Grunting and sweating, they fought all around the rose-colored curb of +the fountain. At last Mich'l succeeded in forcing his adversary over +the low stone, and they went over together with a resounding splash. +The straining body of the guard suddenly relaxed, and a spreading red +cloud in the water disclosed that he had struck his head against the +first of the terraces that rose in the fountain's mist-shrouded +center. + +Up one of the corridors a door opened, and an angry voice shouted: + +"Gurka! Gurka! I'll have you in bracelets! Captain of the guard!" + +"Sir!" From another of the corridors came a sound of running feet. A +command rang out: + +"On the double!" + +An officer, followed by four soldiers, dashed around the corner and +flashed by the fountain. Peering over the curb, Mich'l saw them, some +hundred yards away, come to a halt before an opened door. With a +thrill of exultation Mich'l recognized the tall figure of Lane Mollon, +looking like a slightly damaged satyr of the better class, for his +head was bandaged, and he was in bad humor. + +"Captain!" he stormed. "I want you to put that damned louse in +solitary confinement for a year. Hear?" + +"Yes, sir." Like a megaphone the long corridor carried the low, +respectful words to Mich'l's ears. + +Lane continued to storm: + +"And if you put another damned merclite-crazy blunker[1] on guard in +this place I'll have your commission. Hear?" + +"Yes, sir." + +[Footnote 1: Blunker--a blunderer, an oaf. Mechanical recording had +preserved the language in much of its original form, but new words did +creep in.] + + * * * * * + +A quick decision was necessary, and Mich'l acted without hesitation. +The guard had rolled over on his back, so that his face was out of the +water, and he was breathing with quick, painful gasps. Mich'l dragged +him up under the concealing shelter of the fountain spray, and there +changed clothes with him. In the meantime the flowing water washed +away the red stain of blood. When the captain returned with his guard, +Mich'l was lying realistically in the pool, apparently deep in drugged +sleep, the little kepi tilted rakishly over his face. + +He was roughly seized and dragged out of the water to the +accompaniment of much cursing. A fist crashed into his face. + +Suddenly the soldiers felt the supine figure under their hands explode +into energy. Elbows and fists seemed to fly from all directions at +once. A needle-ray appeared, and before they could draw their own +weapons they were howling with pain as searing welts drew over their +bodies. With one accord they plunged into the pool. Only the officer +remained, and he fell to the mosaic floor, his weapon half raised, the +small black hole in his chest giving off a burnt odor. + +Mich'l appropriated the officer's brassard of rank, and, menacing the +cowed guards, forced them to herd into a nearby room, carrying the +body of the officer with them. Mich'l locked the door and looked +around. He saw no one observing him, and could count on carrying a +pretty good bluff in his uniform, which was rapidly shedding its +water. With a firm step Mich'l walked to Lane Mollon's door, threw it +open, and entered. + + * * * * * + +Lane sat up on his couch, his feet striking the floor with an angry +thump. But when he recognized Mich'l he paled slightly. + +"Where is she?" Mich'l demanded roughly, "before I burn you down!" + +"You said once," Lane began sneeringly, "that you wanted to fight me. +Now, if you'll just put down that--" + +"Not now," Mich'l dissented with deadly coldness. "Where is Nida? +Speak fast." + +Lane did so. + +"She isn't here. The little short[2] crowned me with a chair, and +slipped out. How did I--" + +[Footnote 2: Short--trouble-maker, spitfire. A colloquialism probably +growing out of the once frequently used electrical term +"short-circuit."] + +"When? Hurry up!" + +"Hardly an hour ago. She walked down the corridor, showed a +thick-witted guard my own executive pass, and got away. But I got that +guard--" + +"Never mind what you did to the guard--" + +Suddenly the image of an officer strange to Mich'l stood in the room +and saluted smartly. + +"Has Captain Ilgen Mr. Lane Mollon's leave to stay?" he asked. + +Mollon started forward, but before he could disclose his predicament +Mich'l had sidled over to him and thrown one arm affectionately over +his shoulder. In his hand, concealed by the rich folds of Lane's robe, +Mich'l held his needle-ray, and it was pressed firmly against Lane's +ribs. + +"Mr. Mollon will be glad to hear you," Mich'l said smoothly. + + * * * * * + +He fancied that the eyes of the officer's image dilated slightly, but +it lost none of its military rigor. But some explanation of his +presence there in his still damp uniform must be given Ilgen, so he +growled, in a voice that he tried to make a bit thick, as if he had +chewed too much merclite: + +"At ease, Captain. At ease! Damn it man, you don't have to be so +damned military. You're among friends!" And he towseled Lane's dark +hair affectionately. + +Captain Ilgen looked his disgust. + +"Sir," he said to Lane, "we recaptured Nida Mane as she tried to board +a public car near the Executive Mansion." + +The black lens at the end of Mich'l's needle-ray pressed hard, and +Lane said naturally: + +"You have her in custody?" + +"Sir, we have." And to Mich'l's dismay, Nida, defiant, her lovely form +half revealed by rents in her garments, seemed to materialize beside +the officer. Her wrathful eyes were fixed on Lane, and then she saw +Mich'l. + +The technie put all his will into the pleading stare which he +returned, and she understood. She gave no sign of recognition, but +favored both Lane and Mich'l equally with the chill of her disdain. + +"Sir, what are your orders?" + +Lane glanced aside at Mich'l, acutely conscious of the lethal pressure +in his ribs. + +"'Sall right with me, old fellow," Mich'l squawked good-humoredly. +"This your girl that got away from you? Let's both go over and bring +her back." + +Lane nodded assent. The soldier saluted, and his vision and that of +the girl disappeared. + +"And we're going to do just that!" Mich'l added in an entirely changed +voice. "Get up, you. Act right, speak right, do right, and you may +live to see another day." + + * * * * * + +So the two left the warren in apparent amity, and walked the beautiful +street, with its richly formed, brightly colored arches, its seemingly +illimitable vistas, its luxuriant, pampered decorative vegetation, its +blazing lights--until at last they came to Administration Circle, and +entered the ponderous gates behind which lay the very heart of the +Government. + +They were challenged at once. Although the officer of the guard knew +Lane, usage required the showing of the daily pass. Many high officers +of the Government had in years past fallen from grace overnight. + +This formality complied with, Lane and Mich'l, the latter with his +ray-needle ever ready, sat down to wait in the guard room. And Lane, +under Mich'l's quiet prompting, ordered that Nida and her father be +brought to him. + +"We shall bring the girl, yes," the astonished officer protested, "but +not Senator Mane. He is a prisoner of state." + +"Perhaps you don't know, Captain," Mich'l suggested smoothly, "that it +is not wise to disregard the orders of the Provisional President's +son?" + +"It would cost me my commission, perhaps my life!" the officer said. + +"Neither would be worth much if you disobey!" Mich'l countered, a wire +edge creeping into his voice. + +The officer looked into Lane's stormy face, then with great reluctance +retreated to carry out the order. + +In about ten minutes he was back, with four guards and his prisoners. +He explained that Captain Ilgen was detained on official duty. + +"You may go," said Lane, prompted by a jab in the ribs. + +"A written receipt, please, sir, for the senator." + +Glowering, Lane wrote out the desired document. At last they were +alone. + +"Our program," Mich'l announced briskly, "is simple. You will conduct +us to one of the Government cars, and will ride with us to such places +as we may direct, and I shall release you when it pleases me. If you +then want to fight, I will accommodate you." + +"I would be willing to fight you, as head of the technies," Lane +countered sullenly, "but I wouldn't be bothered with a rebel and a +traitor. You've overstepped yourself this time, my fine bolthead, and +all I ask is a front seat at your execution!" + + * * * * * + +They stepped into the brightly lighted hall, and in that instant +Mich'l felt a searing heat on his shoulder. Without a moment's pause +he hurled Senator Mane and the girl back into the room. At the same +moment he flung an arm around Lane's neck and pulled him back into the +doorway, where he could use him as a shield while he cautiously peered +out into the corridor. His shoulder throbbed painfully, but his +movement had prevented the needle-ray from penetrating deeply in any +one place. + +A short distance up the corridor was a wider space, in the center of +which stood a large bronze urn filled with exotic plants. Behind this +urn were several soldiers, and Mich'l recognized the sharp-eyed +Captain Ilgen. So that officer had recognized the true state of +affairs, or had strong suspicions! But in his haste and eagerness he +had overlooked one important fact. In the guardroom, were riot-rays, +heavy replicas of the ordinary hand weapons. They had not been needed +for many years, but the technies had always kept them fully charged +and in order. + +"Nida!" Mich'l called, not removing his eye from the doorway. + +"Yes?" She was standing beside him, and Mich'l thrilled to the +admiration and positive affection in her intonation. + +"Notice those short tubes mounted on light wheels over against the +walls? Those are riot-ray projectors. Wheel me over a couple." + +Nida did as directed. Mich'l stuck the stubby muzzle of one of the +nearest weapons into the corridor, pulled the lever and swung the ray +in an arc toward the ambushed soldiers. There was a sharp crackling +noise and the heat chipped myriads of flakes off the stone walls, +leaving a gray path across the rich murals, and the air was filled +with flying particles. The heat was terrific. It beat back into the +doorway. + +Captain Ilgen gave a short, sharp order, and he and his men retreated +before the bronze urn began to wilt and drip melted metal. He could +not be accused of cowardice, for his hand weapons were puny compared +to the riot-rays. + +"Quick, before he gets in touch with the outer guard!" Mich'l urged +his prisoner forward, Senator Mane following. The grave patriarch of +rhetoric made a striking picture as he dragged the second riot-ray +along. The other one was abandoned, locked with full power on. It was +converting that corridor into an inferno, and there would be no +pursuit through that avenue. + + * * * * * + +Mich'l pushed open the metal door suddenly. Two guards on duty were +just coming in, their hand weapons ready. They never knew what struck +them for there was no time for compunction. But even as their bodies +sank to the paving there was the harsh clangor of alarm bells. +Soldiers dashed from everywhere and came running, their needle-rays +menacing. + +"In there!" Mich'l shouted. He pointed to the doors, at the dead +guards. As they hesitated, he added: + +"Revolution! They're storming the President's office! Hear the rays?" + +Through the doors came a faint humming, an acrid smell of heat, of +stone and metal fumes. A corporal saluted Mich'l, recognized Lane's +haggard features, and Lane again felt that cogent persuader in his +ribs. + +"That's right, Corporal!" he said bitterly. + +"Is the guard room occupied, sir?" + +"Not now, you fool!" Mich'l snapped at him. This resolved the last of +the corporal's misgivings. Giving an order, he led his men in, +gasping. + +"Now we'll run!" Mich'l ordered, giving Lane a shove. "Coming, Nida?" +She was dragging her father along joyously. They crossed the broad +pedestrian walk, and in the street found an official car nestling on +one of the tracks. + +"Heave in the riot-ray, will you, old fellow?" Mich'l requested +jovially, and Lane did. Then the listless chauffeur turned a +controller, and the big car rose a few inches, lightly as a feather, +and sped away swiftly through the maze of traffic. + + * * * * * + +Sometime later they were in a service lift; not one of the great +public lifts that carried their hundreds at a trip, but one of the +small lifts used mostly by the technies, and known to few outside +their ranks. Mich'l, standing blissfully close to Nida and her father, +enjoyed his moment of relaxation. Many things had been attended to. +Lane had been released at last, in one of the catacomb cemeteries. It +would take him at least two hours to find his way out. They were +discussing the riot-ray, which they had with them. + +"I hope we won't have to exhaust it in a fight before we get out," +Senator Mane said anxiously. "It would be a splendid weapon if we +encounter a hostile environment Outside." + +"The Gate is guarded," Mich'l said practically, "but we expect to +surprise them. No use worrying." + +The lift came to a stop at an air-lock. The great elevator shafts +were closed by airlocks every 2,000 feet. The reason is obvious. If +the air of the great, spheroid subterranean nation were allowed to +freely obey the laws of gravity, it would be oppressively dense in the +lower levels, and excessively rarified in the upper ones. While the +airlocks were operating Mich'l stepped to a telucid and gave the +agreed-on signal. + +In another half hour they were at 37X. The great, dusty, and +little-used storeroom was only poorly lighted; it was dank, and had an +uncomfortable chill. Technies and their families were coming in from +all sides, and it was not long before some five hundred persons, men, +women and children, were assembled. Many of them were pale and +frightened looking, for they were staking everything on an ideal, a +theory. There would be no coming back. The statute books of +Subterranea decreed only one penalty--death--for even the merest +tampering with the Frozen Gate. It was not like this that they had +visioned the opening of the Gate. Under properly controlled +conditions, it would have been possible to open the gate for +preliminary explorations. But not now. They were outside the law. + + * * * * * + +Nida, standing beside Mich'l, shivered and pulled her over-robe closer +around her. There was sadness in her voice as she said: + +"These children.... They remind me of the thousands of children we +must abandon with our people. If I could, I'd steal a few to take with +us." + +Mich'l grinned without mirth. + +"And be damned as a kidnapper of a particularly horrible sort, as long +as Subterranea lasts!" + +"I know. I know. But what will happen to them all when the automatic +machinery fails?" + +"They may learn to run it, if they have to. Or if we succeed in +establishing ourselves in the outer world we can tunnel back to them +around the Gate in a year or so. Don't worry about them too much. +We're taking the big risk, not they." + +Gobet Hanlon, accompanied by Flos Entine and Mila Mane, approached. He +was loaded down with a huge case of concentrated food. + +"I've given orders to bring with us all the cold resisting fabrics we +could carry. Got 'em loaded down, eh?" + +"All here?" + +"Every last one." + +"Let's go, then." Mich'l stepped to a small door that led into the +main corridor close to the Gate. This door had not been used by the +technies when assembling. Through a tiny hole the guard, four +soldiers, could be seen about a blanket, tossing sixteen-sided dice. +Mich'l opened the door, his needle-ray pointed. + +"Don't move, or you burn!" he commanded harshly. + + * * * * * + +The guards, taken completely by surprise, did not move. In a few +moments they were bound, gagged, and dumped into a corner of 37X. +Eager technies were swarming over the complicated mechanism that they +had dared to touch, before, only for inspection and maintenance. The +Frozen Gate was like a huge stopper in a bottle, made of chromium +steel. It was thirty feet in diameter, and thirty feet thick from its +well insulated inside face to that enigmatical Outside that had been a +grisly mystery to the race for some five hundred centuries. + +There was a flash of sparks, and the quiet hum of motors. With a +shuddering groan the great plug freed itself from the grip of +millennia; turned a few inches in its hole. The supporting gimbals +took the load now, and slowly the great mass moved inward, carried by +an overhead traveling crane whose track was bolted to the rock roof. +The rate of movement was slow, not much over three or four inches a +minute. + +An excited murmur filled the cavern--almost hysterical joy. But +Mich'l, watching that widening margin for the dreaded gush of liquid +air, only trembled with relief. At least the calamity that had visited +rash Atlantica would not be repeated here. + +A young technie, one of the heat distributors, climbed up the heavy +bosses on the gateway's face. + +"I'm going to be the first to see the Sun!" he shouted joyously. His +challenging gaze roved over the waiting crowd, and suddenly his face +turned ashen. For at the turn of the corridor, some hundred yards +away, he had seen men. No mistaking those uniforms; they were +soldiers. And Mich'l, following his gaze, saw a riot-ray being wheeled +into place. His own riot-ray already commanded the corridor, but he +dared not use it. The soldiers, under the partial protection of the +turn, could incinerate the helpless technies with little danger to +themselves. + +"Wait!" Mich'l shouted, running into the open. + + * * * * * + +An officer came to meet him. He then recognized Captain Ilgen, whose +exceptional shrewdness had almost undone him before. Ilgen could not +see the slow movement of the gate, and Mich'l, himself weaponless, +counted only on parleying for time. + +They met midway between the two forces, and the small black lens of +the captain's weapon pointed steadily at Mich'l's chest. + +"Mich'l Ares, I arrest you." It seemed that the captain's fine gray +eyes looked out of the lean face with real sympathy. "It may be there +will be executive clemency for these people of yours, but for you--" + +Mich'l, tense and deadly, saw the captain's vigilant attention leave +his face for a second; saw his eyes widen in consternation. He could +not know that Ilgen had seen a slender crescent of green light appear +in the Frozen Gate, but he did not lose the opportunity. His fist +crashed on the captain's jaw, so that the soldierly figure reeled and +the needle-ray fell to the ground. Mich'l leaped after him, picked him +up, held him. The riot-ray was turned full on him, and a soldier's +hand trembled on the lever. But it did not pull. + +"You'll kill him!" Mich'l shouted. And then he ventured to turn his +head to look at the Gate. He saw the first of the fugitives struggle +into the narrow crack. The gate seemed to have stuck, and there was +barely room to pass. Ilgen, half conscious, was trying to rain blows +on Mich'l's back, compelling him to stop and pass the officer's hands +through the belt of his tunic and to manacle them with a pair of +bracelets which he found in his pocket. As he staggered toward the +Gate with his burden, he saw Gobet beside him, the stolen riot-ray +menacing the soldiers, who would otherwise have rushed in. + + * * * * * + +Suddenly Ilgen struggled upright. + +"Fire," he commanded in stentorian tones. + +"They'll kill you too, you fool!" Mich'l exclaimed angrily. + +"I am a soldier!" Ilgen answered with contempt. His legs barely +supported his weight, and he was struggling to free his manacled +hands. He threw himself into the narrow crevice of the Gate, to +obstruct the stream of fugitives. He started to shout again: + +"Fi--" Crack! Again Mich'l's fist caught him. He hooked the officer's +elbows over two of the bosses, so that he was supported in plain sight +of his men, and turned to urge haste. The last two stragglers were +hurrying through, and with relief Mich'l turned to follow. But he set +the closing mechanism in motion before he leaped for the narrow +opening that was becoming still narrower, though very slowly. Now for +that green crescent of light, and hope! + +He felt a wave of heat. Glancing back, he saw the irresolute guards +scattered by the enraged charge of a square, blocky man in civilian +robe--the usually smiling Provisional President, Senator Mollon. +Mollon himself was fumbling with the lever of the riot-ray. Ilgen had +evidently reported where he was going before starting in pursuit of +the technies. + +Again that withering flash of heat, and Mich'l saw Captain Ilgen, +still semi-conscious, suddenly turn red-faced. Mollon would burn him +up without compunction, in the hope of catching one of the fugitive +technies. And now a figure in uniform leaped forward at Mollon's angry +gesture, and bent purposefully to the sighting tube. + +The crescent was now so slender that Mich'l had to turn sideways to +squeeze back into the corridor. And slowly, inexorably, it was growing +smaller still. With desperate haste the practiced, uniformed man was +adjusting his range. + +Captain Ilgen struggled when Mich'l seized him. + +"I arrest--" + +Mich'l thought for a sickening moment that he was caught in the +closing gate. Then he was free in the cylindrical tunnel into which +the plug was creeping. Luckily, Ilgen was slight. His body squeezed +through with little more difficulty than Mich'l's own. Now the opening +was too small for any man's body. A red glow illuminated that +narrowing slit; an acrid wave of heat, and the smell of burnt metal +came with the strong current of air that blew out of Subterranea. + + * * * * * + +Mich'l dragged his captive down the rocky tunnel, the floor of which +dipped gently away from the Gate; for drainage, no doubt. Around a +bend, the source of the greenish light was apparent. The fugitives +were in an ice cavern. The light seemed to emanate from roof and +walls. The air was uncompromisingly chill, for the blast of warm air +from Subterranea had stopped. + +But the cold of the air was nothing to the icy chill that settled on +the heart of Mich'l Ares, and the hearts of Senator Mane, and the +other leaders of this desperate enterprise. So this, this was the +Outside! A cavern of ice--small, hemmed-in! Those ancient folk-legends +of a Sun-- + +"I arrest you, Mich'l Ares!" + +Mich'l laughed shortly. What a single-minded fellow this Captain Ilgen +was! Still groggy, of course. Didn't know where they were. He left the +soldier with the red, blistered face. + +"Mich'l! Mich'l!" a voice echoed shrilly from the ice walls. It was a +high-pitched voice, and an excited one. A boy came flying out of a +narrow crevice, his short robe flying, his cloth-wrapped legs +twinkling. + +"Mich'l!" he shouted. "I saw it! I saw the Sun, the beautiful Sun!" + +Lucky it was that in the rush no one was hurt. The small cleft opened +into a wide tunnel, a low-roofed cave through which milky-white water +flowed. The cave opened upon a vista of blue sky and towering +mountains whose tops were burdened with snow and upon whose sides +glaciers slid down and melted; and the milky-white stream brawled down +into a green valley, far, far below. On a mountain meadow, not far +from the glacier that still buried the Frozen Gate, they rested.... + + * * * * * + +And so came a new strain of humanity upon the surface of the earth--a +strain tempered and refined by the inexorable process of evolution and +environment. Already animal life had reappeared, drastically changed +and ruthlessly weeded out by the most severe Ice Age the world had +ever known, and now Man stood once more on a new threshold of time. + +Something of this may have passed through the minds of the refugees +luxuriating in the strong sunlight of this mountain meadow, and in +active and alert brains the foundations of a new civilization were +already being built. + +They were preparing to go into the valley below when there was a dull +concussion. The glacier over the Frozen Gate rose slightly, then +disappeared completely out of sight, leaving a yawning hole in the +mountainside. Ice and rocks slid down, filling the hole. The refugees +gazed at the scene in fear and wonder. + +"They have blown up the gate! And the chambers leading to it!" Senator +Mane--now only Leo Mane--said slowly. "There goes our last chance to +save them!" His tones were deeply sad. He could not look upon these +people as an experiment that Nature had abandoned, although he knew +that history is thronged with the shadows of vanished races, culled by +the process of natural selection. + +But Youth looks only ahead. The majority of the rescued technies were +young, and with eagerness and anticipation, they followed Mich'l and +Nida Ares down into the valley to build their first homes. + + + + +The Midget From the Island + +A COMPLETE NOVELETTE + +_By H. G. Winter_ + +[Illustration: _"For God's sake, Hagendorff, what's come over you?"_] + + +[Sidenote: Garth Howard, prey to half the animals of the forest, +fights valiantly to regain his lost five feet of size.] + +In the chill of an early morning, a rowboat drifted aimlessly down the +Detroit River. It seemed to have broken loose from its mooring and +been swept away; its outboard motor was silent and it swung in slow +circles as the currents caught at it. But the boat carried a +passenger. A man's nude body stretched face downward in it. + +It was a startling figure that lay there. The body was fully matured +and had a splendid development of rounded muscles--and yet it was not +more than three feet in length. A perfectly formed and proportioned +manikin! The two officers in the harbor police launch which presently +slid alongside to investigate were giants in comparison. + +They had not expected to find such weird cargo in a drifting rowboat. +They stared at the naked, unconscious midget in utter amazement, as if +seeing a thing that could not be real. And when one of them reached +down to lift the tiny body aboard, his eyes went wider with added +surprise. His lift was inadequate. The dwarf's weight was that of a +normal-sized man! + +This was mystery on mystery. But they got the uncannily heavy figure +aboard at last and ascertained that, though the skin showed many +wounds and was blue from long exposure, the heart was still beating. +And realizing that the life might flicker out beneath their eyes +unless they took action immediately, they proceeded to work over him. + +After some minutes, the dwarf gave signs of returning consciousness. +His lids fluttered and opened, disclosing eyes that filled suddenly +with terror as they stared into the faces, huge in comparison, that +leaned over his. One of the officers said reassuringly: + +"You're all right, buddy: you're on a harbor police launch. But who in +the devil are you? D'you speak English? Where'd you come from?" + + * * * * * + +The midget struggled to speak; struggled desperately to tell something +of great importance. They bent closer. Gasping, high-pitched words +came to their ears, and the story that those words told held them +spellbound. When the shrill voice ceased and the dwarf sank back into +the coat they had thrown around him, the two policemen gazed at each +other. One whistled softly, and his companion said soberly: + +"We'd better phone up and have the local police tend to this right +away, Bill." + +Thus, two hours later, several miles up the river, another launch +containing three officers came to its destination, a solitary, +thickly-wooded island that brooded under a cloak of silence where the +river leaves broad Lake St. Clair. The launch crept up to a mooring +post a few feet from a small, rough beach, and was tied there. +Quickly, the men waded ashore and tiptoed up a winding trail that was +barred from the sun by dank foliage. They soon came to a clearing +where a large cabin had been built. There, one of them whispered, +"Guns out!" + +Then the three men crossed the clearing and cautiously entered the +cabin. + +For a moment there was silence. Then came a terrified shout, followed +by the bunched thunder of a succession of pistol shots. The +reverberations slowly died away, and some time later the policemen +reappeared and stood outside the door. + +One of them, dazed, kept repeating over and over, "I wouldn't have +believed it! I wouldn't have believed it!" and another nodded in +wordless agreement. The third, white-faced, stared for a long time +unseeingly at the cloud-flecked bowl of the sky.... + +But it would be best, perhaps, to tell the story as it happened. + + * * * * * + +The incredible events that shaped it began two nights before, when the +larger of the two rooms in the island cabin was bathed in the bald +glare of a strong floodlight that threw into sharp prominence the +intent features of two men in the room, and the complicated details of +the strange equipment around them. + +Garth Howard, the younger of the two, was holding a tiny, squawling, +spitting thing, not more than three inches long, which might have +seemed, at a quick glance, to have been a normal enough kitten. Closer +inspection, however, would have revealed that it had a thick, smooth +coat, a lithe, fully developed body and narrowed, venomous +eyes--things which no week-old kitten ever possessed. It was a mature +cat, but in the size of a kitten. + +Howard's level gray eyes were held fascinated by it. When he spoke, +his words were hushed and almost reverent. + +"Perfect, Hagendorff!" he said. "Not a flaw!" + +"The reduction has not improved her temper," Hagendorff articulated +precisely. His deep voice matched the rest of him. Garth Howard's +clean-muscled body stood a good six feet off the floor, yet the other +topped him by inches. And his face compared well with his bulky body, +for his head was massive, with overhanging brows and a shaggy mop of +blond hair. Athlete and weight-lifter, the two looked, but in reality +they were scientist and assistant, working together for a common end. + + * * * * * + +The room in which they stood was obviously a laboratory. Bulky gas +engines and a generator squatted at one end; tables held racks of +tools and loops of insulated wiring and jars of various chemicals. One +long table stretched the whole length of the room, placed flush +against the left wall, whose rough planking was broken by a lone +window. There were racks of test tubes on this table, and tools, +carelessly scattered by men intent on their work. + +Still another table was devoted to several cages, containing the usual +martyrs of experimental science: guinea pigs and rabbits, rats and +white mice. Beside these was a large box, screen topped, in which, in +separate partitions, were a variety of insects: beetles and flies and +spiders and tarantulas. + +But the thing that dominated the laboratory was the machine on the +long table against the wall. Its chamber, the most striking feature, +was a cube of roughly six feet, built of dull material resembling +bakelite. Wires trailed through it from the glittering plate, which +was the chamber's floor, and a curved spray-shaped projector overhead, +to an intricately constructed apparatus studded with vacuum tubes. A +small switchboard stood beside the chamber, and from it thick cables +led to the generator in the rear of the room. + +"Let us return her to normal," Hagendorff rumbled after a moment or +two devoted to prodding and examining the diminutive cat. "Then for +the final experiment." + +One whole wall of the cubical chamber was a hinged door, with a tier +of several peep-holes. Garth Howard swung the door open, placed the +tiny, struggling cat inside and quickly closed it again. "Right," he +said briefly, and pressed his eyes to the bottom peep-hole. + + * * * * * + +A switch was pulled over, and the dynamo's drone pulsed through the +room. Hagendorff's fingers rested on a large lever that jutted from +the switchboard. Slowly, he pulled it to one side. + +The imprisoned cat, small as a rat, had been nervously whipping its +tail from side to side and meowing plaintively; but, as the lever +swung over, there came a change. The vacuum tubes behind the +switchboard glowed green; a bright white ray poured from the spray in +the chamber, making the metal plate below a shimmering, almost molten +thing. The animal's legs suddenly braced on it; its narrowed eyes +widened, glazing weirdly, while the tail became a stiff, bristling +ramrod. And, as a balloon swells from a strong breath, the cat's body +increased in size. It grew not in spurts, but with a smooth, flowing +rhythm: grew as easily as a flower unfolding beneath the sun. + +In only a few seconds its original size was attained. Howard raised +his hand; the lever shot back and the white beam faded into +nothingness. A full sized and very angry cat tore around the inside of +the chamber. + +"Normal?" Hagendorff questioned. The other nodded and prepared to open +the door. + +"Wait! She always was a little undersized; I give her a few inches +more as a reward." + +"Not too much," warned Garth. "She's got a nasty temper; we don't +want a wildcat prowling round here!" + +The white beam flashed, the tubes glowed and almost instantly +flickered off again. When the chamber's door was opened, an indignant +and slightly oversized cat bounded through, leaped from the table with +a squawled oath of hatred and streaked into the front room of the +cabin. + + * * * * * + +Garth turned and faced Hagendorff, a smile on his lips and a gleam in +his eyes. He ran his fingers through his black hair. + +"Well," he said, "now it's time for the final experiment. Who shall it +be?" + +Hagendorff did not answer at once, and the American went on: + +"I think it'd better be me. There's a slight risk, of course, and I, +as the inventor, could never ask an assistant to do anything I +wouldn't. Is it all right with you?" + +Hagendorff nodded quickly in answer. Garth stood reflecting for a +moment. + +"Guinea pigs, rabbits and insects have survived reduction to +one-twentieth normal size," he said slowly. "It should be safe for the +human body to descend just as far. But stop me at about two feet this +first time. I'm not taking any chances; I want to be alive and kicking +when I announce the success of my experiments to the scientific +world." + +His assistant said nothing. + +"Well, here goes," Garth added. "I'd better take off my clothes if I +don't want to be buried in them. They're not affected by the process. +Must be because of the lack of organic connection between their fibers +and the human body." + +A few minutes later, nude, he jumped onto the laboratory table. He +presented a perfect specimen of well-developed manhood as he stood +before the door of the chamber. His smooth skin, under which the +rounded muscles rolled easily, gleamed white beneath the glare of the +floodlight. His gray eyes glanced at the stolid assistant, who already +had one hand on the switchboard's lever. Garth saw that the hand was +trembling slightly, and smiled as he realized Hagendorff was as +excited as he. He said: + +"I'll leave the door ajar, so you can more easily watch every phase of +the reduction. If it's painful--well, I guess I can stand anything a +cat can!" + +Then, stooping slightly, Garth stepped in and drew the door almost +shut. + + * * * * * + +He relaxed as much as possible from the tremendous excitement that +filled him, and nodded at Hagendorff. + +"I'm ready," he said. "Go ahead!" + +The ray came to his body as the crash of thunder comes to the ear. His +nerves leaped as it struck and enveloped him. He felt as if he were +entombed in ice, and yet his veins were aflame. Fiery shafts fanged +him all through and resolved, presently, into a measured, tingling +beat. + +His thoughts raced. He knew that those minute particles of matter, the +atoms of his body, were being compacted; he sensed that his legs were +rigid, his body stiff, his eyes clamped ahead in a glazed stare. He +was only half-conscious of the objects outside, but the dim sight of +them was fantastic and nauseous. + +There was Hagendorff's face peering in at him--growing! Swelling as +the cat's body had swollen; and yet receding and rising until Garth, +momentarily forgetting that he was the one whose size was changing, +thought that the man's titanic body would fill the room. But the room +was growing, too: the stools were becoming leviathans of wood, the +walls were like cliffs, the compact switchboard was a large surface +of black, and the chamber in which he stood grew into a high-roofed +vault, its sides shooting up and retreating as if shoved by invisible +hands. + +And still he sank, and still the terrible light devoured him. + +Suddenly a delirious sensation engulfed him; his senses went reeling +away, and he staggered. Then with a wrench he came to. As he regained +control of his mind he knew the lever had been switched off and the +process completed. + +He found that he was gasping. He passed a hand over his sweat-studded +face and looked around. + + * * * * * + +Outside was the room of a giant. And in a moment a giant became +visible. His vast bulk filled the chamber's doorway; his mammoth face +peered in. Garth's eardrums quivered from a deep bass rumble, sounding +like thunder on a distant horizon. + +"Are you all right, Howard?" + +A finger half the length of his own arm reached forward and prodded +him. For a second Garth could do nothing but stare at it. It brought +home to him starkly the puny size of his body, only two feet in +height. He felt suddenly afraid. But that was foolish, he thought; and +he laughed, his voice ludicrously high and shrill. + +"I'm all right," he cried. "But I can hardly understand you. If I were +much smaller, I probably couldn't--your voice'd seem so deep. Gangway, +Hagendorff, I'm coming out!" + +His eyes were just below the level of the giant's shoulders. He +stepped from the black chamber and stared amazedly at the room, at the +chairs, the objects in it--at the laboratory table on which he was +standing, along which he might have sprinted thirty yards. A surge of +exultant animal spirits flowed through him. His dream had become a +reality; the machine had passed its last test! His body was sound and +whole; he felt perfectly natural; he had not changed, save in size; +and in size he was like Gulliver, confronted with a Brobdingnagian +room! + +He hurdled a five-inch-high box of tools, ran down the creaking table +and stood laughing in front of a rack of test tubes half as high as he +was. Three strides took Hagendorff opposite him; and from above the +thunderous voice rumbled: + +"What were your sensations?" + +"Probably as close as man'll ever get to the feelings of a spark of +electricity!" the midget replied. "But bearable, though I was freezing +and burning at the same time. My body was rigid, paralyzed--just like +the animals we used. I couldn't move." + +"You're sure you couldn't move? You were helpless?" + + * * * * * + +The booming voice throbbed with sudden interest. Garth looked up +curiously. "No," he repeated. "I couldn't move. But lift me down, +Hagendorff. I want to take a walk on the floor." + +A hand wrapped around his body, tensed and strained upwards. The +two-foot-high man was not quite pulled off the table. Then Hagendorff +grunted and relaxed his grasp. + +"I had forgotten," he rumbled. "Your weight remains the same. You are +one-third my size, yet you weigh almost as much as I do. Weight, which +is the sum of the mass of all the atoms in you, is not, naturally, +affected by compacting those atoms." + +It was only by a great effort that he was able to deposit the manikin +on the floor. + +For a while Garth strolled around, savoring to their full the +fantastic sensations his diminished stature gave him, at once amused +and somehow frightened by the overwhelming size of the laboratory. To +his eyes, the tables were like bridges; Hagendorff's broad figure +loomed monstrously over him, and the guinea pigs and rabbits in their +cages seemed as big as fair-sized dogs. With a grin, he looked up at +the giant who was his assistant. + +"Think I'll make the return trip, and give you a chance," he said. +"I've had my share, and the process has been proven. It's weird, being +down in this new world all alone. I'd hate to think what would happen +if a rat came along!" + +Silently, Hagendorff stooped and grasped him again. But Garth, when he +stood once more inside the chamber, regarded his huge, rough-moulded +face curiously. + +"Say," he said, puzzled, "your hands are trembling like the devil! +What's wrong? You're more nervous than I am!" + +Hagendorff did not answer. He advanced to the switchboard. His +narrowed, deep-set eyes shot a quick glance at the small, nude man +inside the chamber, and for a second one hand hovered over the lever +on the panel. + + * * * * * + +In that tense second a flash of intuition, of deadly fear, came to +Garth Howard, and he leaped wildly forward. But his rear foot did not +leave the floor of the chamber, and his shout of alarm was choked +midway. Again the fierce ray paralyzed every muscle in him, and he was +locked motionless where he was. + +Helplessly, his glazed eyes stared at Hagendorff, while every moment +his rigid little body melted downwards. He was becoming rapidly +smaller, not larger! + +Through the agony of the stabbing electrical waves, in vain Garth +tried to wrench his legs free. The few inches that separated him from +the door were an impassable barrier. Sheer panic clutched him. He was +trapped. But why? Why had Hagendorff tricked him? + +As if reading the question, the giant outside came close to the +chamber's door and regarded his captive with eyes that were lit by a +peculiar flame. He grunted, then reached backward and returned the +switchboard lever almost to the neutral point, reducing the speed of +the decreasing process. + +"Yes, that is better," the German gloated, in a deep, satisfied tone. +"It will be slower, now. Slower--and more interesting to watch!... I +fancy your eyes are reproachful, my friend. Why have I done it, you +wonder? _Ach!_ This machine, it will startle the world of science; it +will make its inventor famous--not? Yes; and did you think I was going +to stand by and see all the credit go to you? No! To me it shall +go--me alone! And you--" He chuckled and rubbed his hands before going +on. + +"You shall be what the newspapers call a martyr to science. You shall +sink to a foot, to six inches--to one inch--even less, I think! +Eventually the reduction will kill you, of course; and your body shall +be proof of how you died--in an experiment--and shall also prove the +machine's power and my genius!" + + * * * * * + +He laughed thunderously, a blond and malevolent titan. He did not +notice that, with the lessening of the reduction's speed, a slight +trace of control over his muscles had returned to the midget inside. +His tiny body was slowly diminishing, and complete, hopeless paralysis +and death was not far away. But Garth was fighting every second, +fighting desperately with the trace of strength he possessed to slide +to the door, break the contact and get out from under the ray's +remorseless influence. Almost imperceptibly, the effort lacerating +him with pain, he slid his feet forward. Hagendorff talked on. He +seemed to be blinded by the vision of the fame his treachery would +bring him. + +"We shall have an experiment, my Professor; and then you will have an +interesting death! The ray will suck you down; you will crumple and +crumple till you're not much bigger than my thumbnail! And then I +shall--_ah!_" + +Garth had torn loose. Calling on every ounce of strength and will, the +midget, now no more than one foot high, had reached the edge of the +floor plate and pitched out onto the long laboratory table. + +Giant and dwarf faced each other. For a moment neither spoke or moved. +A breathless tensity hung over the laboratory. The machine droned on, +forgotten. From outside, startlingly near, came the eery hoot of an +owl. + +A tight smile broke through the angry surprise on Hagendorff's face. +"Well, well!" he said, with gargantuan, macabre humor. "We object! It +was foolish, eh, to reduce the power? Next time, it shall not be so. +We--_object!_" + +With the word, he lunged, and his bulky arms lashed down in a wide, +grasping sweep. + +But Garth's taut muscles, retaining all the strength and vigor of +their normal size had been awaiting just such a move, and his tiny +body described the arc of a tremendous leap that neatly vaulted one +huge arm and started him sprinting swiftly down the table. + + * * * * * + +At the end he wheeled, and before the other overcame his surprise at +such a nimble retreat, burst out indignantly: + +"For God's sake, Hagendorff, what's come over you? Be sensible! You +can't do this; you can't really mean it! Why--" + +"So!" roared the assistant, and his rush cut short the midget's +shrill, frantic words. But his grasp this time was better judged; +Garth felt the great fingers slip over his body. Remembering his +strength, he lashed out at one with all his might. Hagendorff grunted +with pain; but instead of continuing the attack, he suddenly turned +and strode to the door leading into the other room, and closed it with +a bang. + +"You cannot escape," he growled, advancing again; "you merely delay." + +Panting, Garth glanced around the room. He was, in truth, trapped. +There was but the one door; and even if he could reach it, he could +not get it open, for the handle would be far above him. The room was a +sealed arena. For a little while it would go on--a wild leaping and +dodging on the table, a hopeless evading of mammoth hands ... and +then, inevitably, would come a crushing grip on his body, followed by +experimentation and the agony of death in the black chamber. + +Fearful, he waited, a perfect, living statuette, twelve inches +high.... + +A grunt preluded the giant's vicious charge. The American staggered +from the brush of a sweeping hand; then, twisting mightily, he dove +under it, like a mouse slipping under the paw of a cat. In doing so he +fell sprawling; and though he was up in a moment, his arm was held. A +hoarse, exultant rumble came to his ears. + +"Caught, my friend!" + +But Hagendorff spoke too soon. With a great wrench, Garth broke free, +and made a tigerish dash back along the table toward the window. And +even as the clumsy titan jumped to the side and grabbed again at him, +he hurled his tiny, heavy body against the pane, and went plunging +through a shower of glass into the cool dark night outside. + + * * * * * + +He fell five feet, and the wind was jarred out of him as he crashed +through the branches of a bush under the window into the sodden earth +beneath. Unhurt, save for a few lacerations from the glass, he +staggered to his feet, gasping for his breath, and started to run +across the clearing towards the fringe of dense forest growth that +ringed the cabin. + +Then he heard thunderous footsteps and, a second later, the sound of +the front door being pulled open. Garth turned in his tracks, and +stumbled back beneath the cabin, thanking heaven that it was raised on +short stilts. But the ruse did not give him much of a start, and by +the time he had painfully threaded his way between the piles of timber +left underneath the cabin, Hagendorff had discovered the trick and was +scouting back. + +Then, with the strength of the hunted, Garth was out from under the +other side and sprinting for the doubtful sanctuary of the forest. + +His tiny feet, carrying the weight of a normal-sized man, sank ankle +high into the muddy ground, several times almost tripping him. Even as +he got to where a trail through the bush began, and passed from the +cold starlight into spaces black with clustered shadows, he heard a +bellow from behind, and, glancing back, saw a monstrous shape come +leaping on his tracks. + +He had only seconds in which to find refuge; he could not stick to the +trail. Thick bush, dank and heavy from recent rains, was on either +side, fugitive streaks of pale light from above painting it eerily. +Garth plunged into the matted growth, dropped to hands and knees and +wormed forward away from the trail. Earth-jarring footbeats sounded +close. With frantic haste he wrenched though the scratching tendrils +and came to a miniature clearing. + + * * * * * + +He saw the tilted shape of a rotted tree-stump, its roots half washed +away and exposing a narrow crevice between them. Gasping, the nude, +foot-high figure tumbled down into it, and lay there, trying to hush +his labored breathing. + +He was a mere twenty feet from the trail; and though to him the bush +was a jungle, to his pursuer it was only chest-high. A towering shadow +moved along the trail. The thud of heavy footbeats came more slowly to +the listening midget. Hagendorff was searching, puzzled by the vague +shadows, for where Garth had left the path. + +Silence fell. + +Garth's heart was pounding like a trip-hammer. He held himself alert, +ready, if need be, to struggle up from the moist crevice and dart on +further into the bush. He could not see the giant, but could picture +his huge, sullen face all too clearly. Still no sound came. Risking +all, he gripped a root and hauled himself up slightly. Then he peered +around the stump. + +Hagendorff was standing in the thick of the bush. He was not ten feet +away, striving in the gloom to discern the other's tell-tale tracks. +Garth drew his head back, hardly daring to breathe. Shivering, his +naked body miserably cold, he waited, pressed down in the soggy earth. +His betraying tracks were there; the shadows alone befriended him. + +The silence was drawn so fine that the faint cheep of a night-bird +sounded startlingly loud. But then came thunder that sent the bird +winging away in fright, and the night and the forest echoed with the +roar of a wrathful, impatient human voice. + +"You hear me, wherever you are! And hear this: I leave you now, but in +ten minutes I have you! You little fool--you think you can get free? +It is only by minutes you delay me!" + +Snarling a curse, the treacherous giant turned and crashed through the +bush and took his huge form striding back towards the cabin. + + * * * * * + +Garth was thinking of many things as he scrambled back wearily from +his refuge to the trail. He was cursing the unwanted publicity which +prying reporters had given his work in Detroit, and which had led him +to lease the lonely island and build a laboratory in the wilderness. +Had it not been for that publicity, he would never have needed an +assistant, and the vision of fame would never have come to delude +Hagendorff and turn his thoughts towards murder. + +His position seemed a horrible delirium from which he must presently +awake. Naked, dwarfed by each ordinary forest weed, unarmed, and +trembling from the wind-sharpened night, he hardly knew which way to +turn. His body was blotched with blood and mud, and under it the +ragged gashes made by glass and bush stung painfully; he was hungry +and stiff and tired and miserable. He remembered Hagendorff's threat +of capturing him in ten minutes, and forced a smile to his face. + +"Looks kind of bad," he muttered, using his voice in an attempt to +dispel some of the lonely grip of the night, "but we'll keep moving, +anyway! He's coming back soon. Let's see: I'd better make for the +stream. It'll be hard for him to follow my tracks through that. And +then...." + +Then--what? The island was small. He realized he could not stand many +hours of exposure. Inevitably--But he turned his mind from the future +and its seeming hopelessness, and concentrated on the immediate need, +which was to hide himself. Forcing the pace, he struck off on a +shambling trot down the dim trail, on into the deepening, sinister +shadows towards the island's lone stream. + + * * * * * + +Obstacles that normally he would not have noticed made his path +tortuous. His great weight sank his feet ankle-high in the moist, +uneven ground. Time and time again he stumbled over some imbedded rock +that, potato-sized, was like a boulder to him. Time and time again he +fell, and when he rose his legs were plastered with soggy earth that +did not dry; and the damp, fallen leaves and twigs he pitched into +clung to his coating of mud. Each broken limb and branch, dropped from +the whispering gloom of the trees above, drained the energy from his +tiring muscles. Soon he was conscious of a vague numbness creeping +over him, a deceptive, drowsy warmth into which he longed to sink, but +which he drove back by working his arms and legs as vigorously as he +could. + +On he went, with teeth clenched and eyes fixed on the half-seen trail +ahead--a fantastic, tiny creature hunted like a wild animal by a giant +of his own kind! + +Presently, through the shroud of darkness traced by ghostly slivers of +starlight, came the sound of trickling water. The trail rose, dipped +down; and through that hollow crawled the stream, winding from a +hidden spring to the encompassing river below. Garth was winded when +he came to it; to his eyes it seemed a small river. His legs were so +numb they hardly felt the cold bite of the water that lapped around +them. + +Some furry water animal leaped away as Garth trudged upstream, alarmed +by the strange midnight visitant and the self-encouraging mutterings +of a shrill human voice.... + + * * * * * + +He had waded what seemed to him a weary distance--in reality only a +few hundred yards--through the winding, icy creek, when suddenly he +halted and stood stock-still. Listening, he heard the ordinary sounds +of the wind through the fir-spires, and the slow trickle of water; +heard the beating of his own heart. Nothing else. And yet.... He took +another step. + +Then he swung quickly around and peered back, senses alert. There was +no mistaking the sound that had come again. It was the crunch of heavy +feet, thudding at even intervals on damp earth. They were +Hagendorff's; and he was armed with light! + +A long beam of white speared through the tangle of bush and tree +trunks far below. It came slanting down from above, prying for the +story recorded by miniature footprints in the ground. By its distance +from him, Garth could tell Hagendorff had come to where his trail led +into the stream. The ray held steady for minutes. Again it prowled +nervously around, hunting for tell-tale signs, sweeping in widening +circles. Then, it was punctuated by the crunch of a boot. + +The giant was following upstream! + +With the flashlight, he might even be able to trace the prints in the +bed of the creek. Stooping, Garth crept ahead, as silently as he +could, though the stir of water at his feet seemed terribly loud. +There were keen ears behind, craned for sounds like that. He knew he +would have to hide again--quickly--and at that moment he saw a place. + +A cleft in the bank to his right held a small hole, dimly limned by a +wisp of starlight. On hands and feet the midget scrambled cat-like to +it. It slanted down and inwards, only inches wide, so that the earth +was close to his body when he slid feet-first inside. But it was warm +and dry, for it was shielded by a ledge from rain, and with the warmth +the hunted manikin's spirits rose somewhat. The ray of light, which he +could see sweeping back and forth downstream, was still following +slowly, as if Hagendorff were having trouble making out the +water-covered trail. Garth breathed easier, cuddled down--and then, +for some unaccountable reason, he felt uneasy. + + * * * * * + +He had not noticed it at first, but now his nostrils were filled with +a queer, musky odor that electrified his nerves and tensed his +muscles. He felt the short hairs on his neck rise; felt his lips +tighten and draw back over clenched teeth. Some long-buried instinct +was warning him of danger--and suddenly he sprang from the hole and +swung around. + +From it, a killer came snaking out, its bared fangs thirsty for his +life blood! + +Arching and swaying its lithe-muscled body, it slid forward in its +graceful, savage way--a weasel, the deadliest pound-for-pound killer +that prowls the forest. It was as long as the naked human who faced it +was tall. Unwittingly, he had chosen its hole as a refuge. + +Retreat would have been impossible, but Garth for some reason did not +even think of it. A strange new sensation poured through his tense +body, a sensation akin to fierce joy. Gone was his tiredness; his +teeth too were bared, matching the wicked fangs before him. Two primal +creatures they were, tooth to tooth and claw to claw, the man as naked +and intoxicated with the blood lust as the ten pounds of bone and +sinew that now darted suddenly for his throat. + +With the lightning quickness that had come to him with small size, +Garth stepped aside. And as the weasel's head streaked by he called +on man's distinctive weapon, and put every ounce of his weight behind +a right arm swing that landed square on a cold black nose and doubled +the weasel back in midair. + +Stunned, it writhed for a second on the slippery bank; and then again +it was up, mad with pain now and swaying slightly as it gathered for a +second leap against this creature that fought so strangely. + + * * * * * + +But in the momentary respite Garth had reasoned out his best chance. +He did not try to fight off the second dart with his fists, but went +boldly in. Ducking through the needle claws with head lowered, his +tiny hands streaked in on the furry throat. He found it, and his +fingers thumbed into the wind-pipe; but not before the weasel smelled +the blood its claws had drawn and went utterly berserk. For a moment +there was a wild flurry of furry, tearing legs and a blood-streaked +white body between them, trying desperately to evade their slicing +strokes. They pitched down the bank together, animal and man +struggling silently to the death; and when they jarred to a stop in +the water below, Garth's strategy was achieved. + +He was uppermost; his grip was steel around the throbbing throat, and +the hundred and eighty pound weight of his body was holding the legs +powerless. Not an inch from his face the weasel's fangs clashed +frantically together. Garth maintained his clutch, squeezing with +every bit of his mighty strength. The animal shuddered; then writhed +in the death convulsions; at last lay still. + +Panting, his mind a welter of primate emotions roused by the kill, the +man shook it a last time, jumped to his feet and glared around--to see +the beam of a flashlight only a dozen yards away. His more deadly foe, +the human foe, was upon him. Perhaps the sounds of the fight had +reached his ears. + +Garth lost not a moment. Quickly he slung the weasel's body back into +the hole and jammed himself down after it. + + * * * * * + +Hagendorff approached slowly, mumbling and cursing to himself in +sullen ill-humor. Things were not going as he had expected them to. +The white ray scoured the banks of the stream, searching doggedly. +Nearer he came, and with each step the watching midget's rapid +breathing grew tighter. The towering body was more than shadow now. +Another ten feet and the flashlight would find the marks of the fight. + +But the titan's patience gave out. Closer than he had yet been to his +quarry, he paused, and again the thunder of his voice broke the +night's hush. + +"Bah! This is foolish! In daylight I find him certainly. I have waited +long; I can wait a little more. I need sleep. To-morrow, it will be +different!" + +He swung away from the stream, and in a few minutes the rip and crash +of his progress through the bush had died. In the silence, Garth +Howard considered his situation. + +He faced it squarely, as was his custom. He did not brood over the +treachery of his assistant, or of how unfairly and suddenly it had +plunged him into peril and robbed him of his normal body. He accepted +his position and searched for possible angles of escape. There were +not many hours left in which to make a decisive move. The island was +small, and, as Hagendorff had said, discovery would be inevitable in +daytime. + +Garth thought of the machine, and of the giant sleeping. A desperate +plan came to him, and his jaws set decisively. "I'll do it!" he +exclaimed aloud. + +The lever which controlled both increase and decrease could be worked +from inside the chamber if he rigged up a system of turning it with a +wire or rope. If he pulled it to the increase only part way, he would, +he knew, have sufficient power over his muscles to pull it back off, +or slide again from the chamber, as he had done before. Whether or not +he could do this depended on Hagendorff's being asleep. Possibly he +could be locked in the living room, if he were there. Or tied. The +increase, even at half speed, would only take about forty seconds. +Once back to his size there would be a fight without odds, Garth +thought grimly. + + * * * * * + +It was a big risk, and there was probably only a small chance of +succeeding, but it meant getting back to six feet, back to a normal +world, back to equal terms. That was the magnet which drew him +presently toward the cabin laboratory. + +He went slowly, to allow Hagendorff plenty of time to fall soundly +asleep. The giant, as he had said, needed sleep--needed it badly--for, +like Garth Howard, he had done without it for forty-eight hours under +the excitement of imminent success in their work. Garth considered +that his move would be totally unexpected, being made right into the +other's territory. There was a chance. + +And so, cold and weariness banished by thoughts of the goal ahead, he +prowled back along the trail like any small creature of the forest. + +It was half an hour later when he came in sight of the cabin. His +heart drummed excitedly as he stood in the shadows surveying it. He +wondered if Hagendorff was still awake; if he was, perhaps, waiting +for him. Certainly he did not seem to be: the cabin was dark and +silent, and the only door was tightly closed. Still--it might be +wiser to retreat while still free.... + +"No, by heaven!" Garth Howard exclaimed in his thoughts. "I'm going +through with it!" Stooping slightly, he left the shadows and ran +boldly into the starlight. + +He half expected to hear a scuffle of feet and see the giant come +leaping out at him; but nothing broke the silence. He made his careful +way along the side of the cabin to the place where a trough for waste +liquids led through a small hole at the level of the floor, and with +great care wormed through. + + * * * * * + +As he started to cautiously reconnoiter, he was suddenly arrested in +his tracks. He had caught the sound of deep, rhythmic breathing. +Hagendorff was asleep, not in the adjoining living room--but in the +laboratory! + +For a moment, Garth did not know what to do. Caution urged him to +retreat; but that would not get him back to his size. On tip-toe, he +explored around. The boards squeaked beneath his great weight, but the +nearby breathing beyond continued in regular rhythm. + +His eyes were toned to the darkness of the laboratory; he saw the +chamber of his atom-compacting machine, its outer sides ghostly in the +faint, reflected starlight, and stared at it with a pang of fierce +longing. So near, it was--so very near! Holding the stolen size of his +body; holding all that was vital to him; holding life itself--it +rested there silently, within reach of a few steps and a quick climb +up one of the table legs. So he thought, his brain whirling with +mingled emotions, his tiny body shivering and aching with cold and its +many hurts. The machine was near--but a barrier blocked the way. + +Hagendorff's bulk lay outstretched on a side table, black in the +shadows, and from him came the level breathing of a sound sleeper, +climaxed now and again by a rumbling snore. He was taking no chances; +his presence there seemed to destroy any hope of the midget's +regaining normal size. But Garth was desperate, and for a minute or so +he considered. + + * * * * * + +Forty seconds, the increase would take, at half speed. It might be +that long before the giant would waken thoroughly and see what was +happening. He, Garth, might start the process, and, when he saw the +huge figure stirring and waking from the noise of the dynamo, switch +off the ray and get out. No matter how short a time it took Hagendorff +to throw off the fogginess of his sleep, he would be somewhat +increased in size, and the odds of combat would not be so great. + +It was a terrible risk. Did he dare take it? He thought of the forest, +of the raw night, of what was threatened in the morning.... Yes! + +Silently, the manikin clasped the nearest table leg, shinnied up and +hauled himself over the top. As he got there his heart leaped. A sharp +thumping had come from behind. He dropped to his knees and glanced +round; but he immediately rose again, reassured. It was only the +rabbits in their cage, disturbed by the strange figure on the table. +He thanked God that they--and his tarantulas and other insects--could +make no alarming noises. + +Garth found a long strand of wire. The panel's control lever, swung to +the left, controlled increase; to the right, decrease. Garth's plan +was to wind the middle of the wire around it, relay each end around +the two supporting posts of the switchboard, and thus have both ends +of the wire in his hands when he stood inside the chamber. One end of +the wire would enable him to pull the lever over for increase, and +the other to pull it back to neutral when the increase was completed, +or when Hagendorff arose. + +Quickly he started to arrange the wire. Then suddenly his hands +dropped and he stared dismayed at the control panel. + +The power switch had been removed! + + * * * * * + +It was Hagendorff's work, of course. He had guarded every angle. +Without that switch, the mechanism was lifeless and literally +powerless. It worked on a delicately adjusted and enclosed rheostat; +there was nothing that could be substituted for it. It would take +hours to improvise one in the heart of the apparatus. + +The switch, Garth reflected bitterly, was probably concealed somewhere +about the giant's body. + +He considered the possibility of tying him. He knew where there was a +coil of light, pliable wire on the floor; he might be able to loop it +over the giant's hands and legs while he slept, tie him securely, and +then go through his pockets for the switch. Another hazard! But there +was nothing else to do. + +Garth lowered himself over the table's edge and slid quietly down the +leg. He glanced at the sleeping man, then over across the room to +where, beneath another table, the wire was--and his nerves jumped at +what he saw there. + +From the darkness under the table two spots of greenish fire, close to +the floor, held steadily on him. + +As he stared, they vanished, to reappear more to the right. With the +movement, he glimpsed the outline of a lithe, crouching animal, and +knew it to be the cat he and Hagendorff had experimented on earlier +that night. It was stalking him in the deliberate manner of its kind! + + * * * * * + +It came edging around, so as to leap on him from the side. He knew +that he represented fair prey to it; that if he tried to run, it would +pounce on him from behind. Wearily he tensed his miniature body, +standing poised on the balls of his feet and never dropping his eyes +for a moment. He could not repress a grim smile at the ludicrousness +of being attacked by an ordinary house-cat, even though it was +tiger-sized to him. Though his victory over the weasel, a far deadlier +fighter, made him confident he could dispatch it, there was another +aspect to the approaching struggle. It would have to be fought in +silence. Not four feet away, Hagendorff slept. There lay the +overwhelming danger. + +Even as these things flashed through his brain, the cat steadily +inched nearer on its padded paws. Ghostly starlight framed it now; +Garth could see the eager, quivering muscles, the long tail, flat +behind, twitching slightly, the rigid, unstirring head and the slowly +contracting paws. The terrible suspense of its stalking scraped his +nerves. There would be a long pause, then an almost imperceptible +hunching forward, with the tail ever twitching; then the same thing +again, and over again. It became unbearable. Garth deliberately +invited the attack. + +He pretended to turn and run, his back towards it. At once he sensed +its tensing body, its bunching muscles--then knew that it had sprung. + +Whirling, he had a fleeting impression of a supple body in midair, of +bristling claws and bared, needlepoint fangs. But he was ready. The +weasel had taught him his best weapon, the great weight of his body. +He streaked in beneath the wide-spread paws, shot his hands into the +fur of the throat and threw himself against the shock of the animal's +suddenly arrested leap. + +There was no standing his weight. Over the cat went, its back thudding +into the floor, its claws held powerless by the hundred and eighty +pounds of hard flesh that straddled it. + + * * * * * + +The fall had made little noise; but, as Garth tightened the grip of +his fingers and bored inward, a dull, steady thumping began to sound. +It was the cat's tail, pounding on the floor! + +Desperately he tried to hook a leg over it, but could not reach far +enough. It beat like a tom-tom. From above, there came the sound of a +huge frame stirring, and the rumble of a sleepy grunt. + +In a moment, the titan would be thoroughly awake. + +By the drumming tail alone, Garth realized, his chance of regaining +full size was sent glimmering. There was nothing but retreat, now, and +a hasty one, if he valued life. Another noise came from the waking +Hagendorff. He was sitting up, staring around. Garth jumped to his +feet, threw the cat's twitching body beneath the table, and dodged at +full speed for the hole whereby he had entered. + +Like a mouse he wriggled through, leaped to the ground, scrambled up +and made for the forest. He ran with all the speed at his command, and +was almost surprised when he reached the black fringe of the forest in +safety. In the protecting gloom, he dared to pause and look back. + +Hagendorff was not pursuing him. From the sound, he was merely +boarding shut the drain hole, to prevent another entrance in that way; +then, afterwards, the windows. + +Garth was puzzled. "I don't understand it," he said aloud. "Why is he +so sure he can get me in the morning? Isn't he afraid I'll leave the +island? Why I've _got_ to try to get away, now. It would be death to +be here after the dawn!" + +He stood there making his plans. They had a rowboat below, powered +with an outboard motor. Even in his present size, he might possibly +run it, if he could get it started. He would strike down-river for +Detroit, and when the gas gave out, the current would carry him on. +Some river boat might pick him up and carry him to friends in the +city. His grotesquely dwarfed body would prove his story, and they +would bring him back and end Hagendorff's mad dream of fame, and help +him to regain his normal size. He could superintend the construction +of another machine if the present one was wrecked. + +When he started down the trail to the river, he seemed to be walking +through a haze. He felt curiously light-headed, and his body was +completely numb. The long exposure was telling on him, and there was +much more of it to come. He wondered if he could hold out until he +reached the mainland. + +But his mind cleared of the daze the cold and near-exhaustion had +brought it to when at last he came to the beach and realized that +again Hagendorff had anticipated him. The rowboat was gone! No wonder +the giant could afford to wait until daylight. + + * * * * * + +Garth floundered down to the beach and ran to where the craft usually +lay. There was only a groove in the rough, pebbly surface, a groove +left by the boat's keel. He followed it up the bank, and twenty yards +in found the dinghy chained and locked firmly to a large tree. + +The midget's face grew suddenly very haggard as he stood there, +staring at what looked like his death sentence. He should have known +Hagendorff would secure the boat, he told himself bitterly. It was a +cruel blow, and sheer misery of mind and body gripped him as he turned +and peered through the darkness of wind-whipped water and sky toward a +horizon that was already lightening. Down-river lay Detroit, a +friendly, everyday world. It was not far in miles, but it seemed lost +to him forever.... + +Garth took his eyes from that prospect with a wry twist to his mouth. +It chanced that they fell on the painter of the rowboat. + +It was a stout Manila cord, some twenty feet in length, and tied +tightly to a ring in the bow of the boat. He looked at it dully for a +full minute before the idea came to him. Then suddenly the lethargy +bred of hopelessness left him. Garth remembered a pocket knife he had +left in the boat the day before. He climbed over the side and began to +fumble about in the darkness. First he came upon a torn handkerchief +which he hastily tied about his loins. Further probing disclosed the +knife wedged under a seat in the boat. When he had finally extricated +it, he threw the knife over the side and climbed out. + +After some minutes of frantic cutting and hacking he severed the rope, +and, quickly taking up one of the ends, ran with it further along the +bank. + +There was still a way of getting off the island. A cold and risky way, +but better than waiting miserably for capture. On the bank was a pile +of sawn logs, intended for firewood; and a strong rope was in his +hands. Much indeed could be done now. + + * * * * * + +The making of his raft proved a herculean task, a racking and almost +impossible one for a man limited by doll-sized hands and a foot-high +body. First the logs had to be rolled to the water's edge, six of +them. Each was as thick as he was tall, and this first part of his +task took him a precious half hour, every minute of which brought +nearer the dawn. Ripples like ordinary waves washed up the struggling +manikin and left him gasping as he stood braced in the cold water and +tugged one log after another out and wound the rope under and over it. +The raft had to be built in water; he would never have been able to +drag the whole thing off the beach. + +When at last he wearily tied the rope end to the last log, and stuck +his knife handy in it, the clouds on the horizon were flushed by the +coming sun. But his means of escape was completed; and hanging on the +end, he shoved the raft out into the river. Right then he almost lost +his life. For when his feet left the sloping bottom, his great weight, +out of all proportion to the size of his body, pulled him under, and +it was only by virtue of a desperate clutch on the raft that he +escaped drowning. Thrashing furiously, he struggled up from the water, +and lay, totally blown, on the logs. It was then he first realized +that his chance of life was no stronger than the rope which held them +together. For swimming was out of the question, and one or two logs +would never support his hundred and eighty pounds. + +The end which he lay on was well under water, and the waves splashed +up between the bobbing logs. The current he was headed for swept down +fifty yards offshore, which was a sixth of a mile to the little legs +now thrust out behind and making a rhythmic flutter. + +He was off the island! Freedom and life were near! Though his teeth +were chattering, his fingers crushed by the jarring logs, and his body +utterly wretched, he grinned with joy as the stretch between him and +the gloomy mass of the island slowly widened. + + * * * * * + +Then came the sun. The skies faded from gray into a delicate, +cloud-flecked blue; slowly the air warmed, and the surface of the +water seemed to calm under it. Though the sun was good on his body, +Garth realized night was more friendly to him, for in the growing +light his craft was all too conspicuous to the giant who would +presently be following his tracks down to the beach. He chided himself +for not having thought of camouflaging the raft with leafy branches. +Doggedly, he forced it out. + +When at last he felt the pull of the current, he ceased his weary +kicking and glanced up into the swiftly advancing dawn. There was a +bird soaring through the keen air up there, gliding in easy circles +with almost motionless wings. Garth gazed at it somewhat wistfully, +envying its freedom and power of flight. And then he shut his eyes. He +was very tired.... + +He must have dozed off for a moment, for he awoke to find himself +slipping off. With a sudden jerk he regained his position--and that +was what saved his life at that moment. For without warning, while he +was nodding, plumed death struck from the skies. + +It dropped like a plummet, as was its manner. It had been circling +above and judging its swoop, and by rights its curved talons should +have arched deep into the unguarded back of the naked figure on the +raft. But at the last second the figure moved aside--too late for the +hawk to alter its swoop. + +The raft rocked under the impact; for a moment Garth Howard, dazed by +the sudden attack, did not know what had happened. Huge scratching +wings were thrashing about him; his left arm stung from where a claw +had raked it; and he wrenched around to stare into two wicked slits of +eyes behind a fierce, rounded beak that jabbed at him. + + * * * * * + +Evidently he represented easy prey to the hawk, for it did not soar +away, but instead came at him again in a flurry of beating wings and +stabbing beak, a vicious, feathered fighter from above. Caught off +guard by the suddenness and savagery of the onslaught, Garth retreated +stumblingly, forgetting his weight and the size of the raft and +defending himself with his arms as best he could against the rushes of +the hawk. The raft tilted perilously; water washed around his legs and +he slipped and went under. + +He felt his fingers slipping inexorably over the edge of the log he +had gripped; his legs threshed up a welter of foam, but he kept going +down. Panic clutched him; his weight would sink him like a stone. But +suddenly his clutching hand was gripped by steel-like talons, and +through the water he caught a glimpse of the hawk straining backwards +with mighty sweeps of its wings in an effort to lift him bodily into +the air. + +His size had deceived it. It could not hoist him, but did manage to +drag his head and chest out of the water. That was enough. With an +effort, Garth scrambled onto the raft. + +The hawk, probably greatly surprised by its failure to soar away with +such tiny prey, tore into him again, raking his body painfully. Hardly +knowing what he did, Garth grabbed out as it hovered over him and +succeeded in wrapping his fingers around one of its legs. Then, +bracing himself as best he could, and ignoring the scratching wings +and piercing beak, he gave the leg a sharp twist and heard the crack +of breaking bone. + +He was only half-conscious of the hawk's shrill scream of pain, of +its swift retreat into the blue, with the broken leg dangling +grotesquely. For only a moment he was aware that he had driven it off; +then the pain of his wounds and his utter exhaustion swept up over +him, and he flopped down on the raft in a dead faint.... + + * * * * * + +For a long time Garth was dimly aware of familiar noises. At first +they were faint and scarcely perceptible; but, as his senses slowly +began to return, disturbing thoughts came to him. He felt that he was +on his back, and confined, and when he twisted, to turn over, he found +he could not. He opened his eyes and blinked. + +He was back in the laboratory--lying bound, hand and foot, on the long +table. + +The giant Hagendorff appeared over him, and his deep voice rumbled: + +"Badly scarred and bruised, my little friend! Cats you have fought, +and birds, and each has left its mark. It was useless to run away last +night--not?" + +Garth was suddenly too full of a weary resignation to even think of +speaking. Remonstrance, he knew, would avail him nothing. The long +struggle for freedom and life was over, and he had lost. + +The assistant was apparently in good humor. He went on: + +"Really, it is too bad, after that magnificent fight of yours! A +hawk--was it not? I was following your tracks, and had just reached +the beach when I see a great fuss on the water. A raft, I see! A bird, +attacking something on it! A little white figure, struggling! Well, it +is that easy. I unlock the boat and go to the raft and find my elusive +friend there, unconscious. So I bring him back here. He has forgotten: +we have an experiment to complete." + +There was a fire of exultation in the man's eyes as they glared down +at the midget who lay on the laboratory table, just a few feet away +from the chamber of the machine. He reached out and ran a thick finger +over his victim's body. + +"You do not deserve this," he said. "I should kill you outright--but, +graciously, I give you death in the machine. Yours will be the first +human body to be reduced to an inch; maybe less. This is your +martyrdom; for this, your name will live, along with mine, for having +perfected the process." + + * * * * * + +Garth Howard saw that the window was boarded tightly shut. Then +Hagendorff caught his eyes as, with a grin, he plunged a hand into a +pocket and drew forth the missing panel switch. He dangled it in front +of Garth. + +"What you would have given for this last night, eh? With your wire to +pull the lever so carefully arranged! _Ach_, it was too bad!" He +shrugged, then picked up a screwdriver and turned to fix the switch on +the control panel. + +The moment his back was turned, Garth gazed frantically around. The +fantastic fate he had striven so desperately to stave off was very +close now. What could he do? + +Some tools lay on the table, just out of his reach, among them a pair +of cutting pliers. He stared at the pliers--an overgrown tool, half as +long as his own body. The twist of Hagendorff's wrist driving home the +first screw brought a cold chill over him. The pliers! It was a +chance! + +He twisted a little, and keeping his eyes on the giant's back, he +inched toward them. His hands, tied at the wrists behind him, clutched +for them; found them. The jaws were open, and there were two sharp +cutting edges. He could not hope to manipulate the whole implement +with his bound hands, but he located one edge, painfully brought the +rope to it and sawed rapidly. + +The steel sliced his flesh, and he felt the warm stickiness of blood. +But he disregarded this and kept on. Hagendorff was still working, all +unconscious--but the last screw was going in. And then some strands of +the rope snapped, and it loosened. + +The next second, Garth had wrenched his hands free. + +Then, throwing caution to the winds, he sat up, grabbed the great tool +and sliced the rope at his feet. + +At that moment, Hagendorff finished his job and turned around. + + * * * * * + +Their eyes met. For a breathless instant nothing happened, save that +the smile on the titan's face changed to surprise and then fury. Garth +scrambled to his feet. The movement brought a bellow of rage, and the +manikin saw two enormous hands converging on him in a sweep that bade +fair to crush every bone in his dwarfed body. + +Leaping backwards instinctively, he hurled the pliers at the giant's +head. + +They were well aimed, and he saw them strike the temple, stopping the +man in his tracks. He thundered, more from anger than pain. His heart +pounding wildly, Garth ran back to a position behind a rack of test +tubes. It was from there that he saw Hagendorff, cursing crazily, grab +up a machinist's hammer and advance upon him. + +All sanity had apparently left the giant. His great face was flushed +and distorted, and a growing welt showed where the pliers had clipped +him. Garth suddenly knew that if he were captured again, death would +not come in the chamber, but from those powerful hands, or the weapon +they clutched. + +The hammer swung back for a crushing blow. But in the instant it hung +poised, Garth lifted a half-filled test tube from the rack before him +and swished its contents forward. + +The tube held sulphuric acid, and it sprayed over Hagendorff's face. +The hammer pitched from his hand; he clutched at his eyes and stumbled +back, shrieking in agony. + +Garth at once ran to the edge of the table, swung himself over and +slid down the leg to the floor. The laboratory door was open and he +dashed for it. But, whether or not Hagendorff could see his frantic +retreat, he anticipated it, and with a reeling plunge he got there +first. Fumbling, he found the key in the hole and turned it. The room +was sealed. + + * * * * * + +Beginning then, the blind Hagendorff was a man berserk. With a sobbing +roar of pain and fury, he lashed round for the foot-high figure that +dodged and wheeled and zig-zagged to keep from his threshing arms and +his hands. A table crashed over, and a flood of chemicals mixed and +boiled on the floor; then another, as the giant blundered blindly into +it. The cages of animals split open, and guinea pigs, rabbits and +insects scuttled from their prisons, fleeing to the corners from the +wild plunges of the raging German. + +Garth went reeling from a glancing blow, and fell against an +over-turned stool under a far table where he could hardly breathe for +the mixed odors of spilt chemicals. By some sixth sense, Hagendorff +seemed to locate him, for his huge body turned and came directly for +him. + +But Garth did not wait. Seizing the stool he whirled it so that it +slid smash into the giant's legs. The man pitched over with a grunt, +striking the floor so hard that the planks shivered. + +He did not rise. He lay there, in a wreckage of glass and splintered +wood and stinking chemicals, moaning slightly. + +Garth wasted no time, but gripped a leg of the laboratory table, +shinned to the top and with frantic speed fixed his strand of wire +onto the control lever and round the supporting posts of the +instrument panel. Then he jumped for the dynamo switch, caught the +handle and jerked it down. + +The drone of a generator surged through the room. Then the midget was +standing in the chamber, both ends of the wire in his hands; and his +heart was thudding madly as he pulled one of them. + +It held. Over came the lever, halfway. The brilliant stream of the ray +poured down. Dimly the manikin glimpsed the chamber's walls sinking +down, the wreckage-strewn room outside diminishing to normal size. +Fiery pain throbbed through him, but it was lost in the exultation +that filled his mind as the seconds went by. He grew to two feet, two +and a half--three. + + * * * * * + +But beyond that he was not to go. The swaying shape of Hagendorff +loomed outside the cube. Aroused by the drone of the generator and +what it signified, the giant had floundered up from the floor and now +came clutching blindly for him. + +Garth knew he would have to leave the chamber at once; so, struggling +for command of his muscles through the paralysis that numbed them, he +tensed his hold on the other wire and pulled it a little. The control +lever swung back to neutral; the ray faded and Garth jumped out. He +was only a few feet away from the huge convulsed face as the German +roared: + +"By God, you'll never get back on _this_ machine!" + +His purpose was plain; his groping hand had already found the control +lever. To prevent his ripping it out, Garth plunged head first into +Hagendorff's stomach, and they both went down in a flurry of arms and +legs. Garth, scrambling to get loose, was conscious of the ray pouring +down again in the chamber above. The lever had not been wrenched out, +but jerked over, setting the process of increase on. + +The next few minutes were a chaos. Now that Howard was three feet tall +he was without some of the advantages of his former smallness and +compactness, and his utmost efforts failed to free him from the death +clutch of the pain-maddened giant. Over and over they rolled on the +floor. Garth trying only to break free, and the other relentlessly +holding on and dragging him over to the chamber again. + +It was a losing fight for the diminutive one, weakened as he was by +his exposure and the fierce fights he had had. Little by little, +squirming and resisting with all his remaining strength, he was +brought near--to see the German, at last, pull half the reducing +apparatus with a crash to the floor. + +The ray in the chamber faded off. The machine was silenced forever, so +that Garth could never hope to regain his full size in this one.... + + * * * * * + +With the realization of this, most of his spirit went, while the +savage giant, successful in smashing the machinery, now turned and +devoted himself exclusively to his victim. + +"Now for you!" he roared in frightening triumph, clutching the smaller +man's neck with his great hands and bearing him to the floor. + +Against those fingers gouged into his wind-pipe like a vise of steel, +Garth could do nothing. Feebly he gagged, and feebly he clawed at the +pitiless hands--and futilely. + +It was the end, he told himself. He had come close, but closeness did +not count. His eyes bulged, and a shroud of black began to obscure his +vision. + +And then, suddenly, over the giant's flexed arms, he glimpsed, coming +from the chamber on the table, something that chilled the blood in his +veins with horror. + +It was huge and utterly loathsome. Long, hairy legs folded out, and +following them came a furry, bloated body at least five feet thick. +Many-faceted eyes fixed themselves coldly on the men on the floor. In +one hideous leap the monster soared from the table all the way to the +room's ceiling, seeming almost to float as it came down. For a moment +it teetered on the floor, not five feet from the giant who, blind and +all unconscious of it, was throttling his diminutive victim beneath +him. + +Garth for a second forgot the grip on his throat in the horror of the +monster. He knew at once what it was--a tarantula. It had crawled +inside the chamber when its cage was broken, had been there even while +he had been there, and had been swollen to its present blood-curdling +size while they were fighting and the ray was on. With the smashing of +the apparatus, it was free to come out. + + * * * * * + +It gathered for the final spring, its terrible legs tensing +perceptibly--a creature out of a nightmare. Garth Howard tried to +shriek out a warning, but Hagendorff was holding his throat too well. +He could only struggle weakly and nod toward the horror beyond; but +the message did not get across to the giant. + +Then the tarantula sprang again. + +For a moment it seemed to hover on Hagendorff's upturned back. When it +floated down, its ragged legs cradled over him, and the egg-shaped +body squatted on his back.... + +Garth felt his frayed nerves and senses going. A hairy leg was +touching him, chilling his flesh. Above him, the giant was thrashing +impotently, and he found his neck free of the awful grip. + +He wormed free. He was hardly conscious of reaching up and unlocking +the door, and closing it tightly again as he stumbled forth. Later, it +seemed that it was in a dream that he ran wildly into the splendid +sunlight outside and down the winding trail. It was only by a +tremendous effort that he kept his senses long enough to shove the +rowboat out from the beach and hop in. + +He never started the motor. All that he had seen and suffered on the +island of horror overcame him too soon, and he pitched down in a limp, +unconscious heap.... + + * * * * * + +And so it was, that, the next morning, the two harbor policemen found +a rowboat with mysterious cargo floating silently down the Detroit +River. So it was that some time later a launch with three local +officers churned up to the solitary island, and that gunshots echoed +in the gloom of a hushed laboratory room, and a man's white-faced body +was carried from the cabin where he had made his one great treacherous +effort to steal another's fame. + + +"JAZZING UP THE UNIVERSE" + + +Centuries of celestial history wheeled across the plaster sky of the +new Adler planetarium at Chicago, recently, at the dedication of the +astronomical institution, the first of its kind in the Western +Hemisphere. + +A modern Joshua, working the levers and switches of a complicated +instrument, commanded a miniature sun to stand still in the +heavens--and it did. He bettered the feat of the Biblical prophet by +stopping the sun at any given point on its orbit across the skies, and +then ran it backward, its attendant planets, planetoids and stars +scampering contrary to all rules of the universe. + +The Joshua in the person of Professor Philip Fox, director of the +planetarium on a "made" island in Lake Michigan described the +instrument with which he made the heavenly bodies cut capers, as a +projector, made in Germany at a cost of almost $100,000. As nearly as +it can be described by a layman it looks like three immense diving +helmets capping the ends of a tube about six feet long. Each "helmet" +is studded with lenses and inside are complicated and strange lights +and projectors which throw the images of the celestial bodies on the +white plaster dome above that represents the skies. The wheeling +motion of the universe toward the west is obtained by revolving the +"helmets" in eccentric circles on an axis. The whole effect makes a +spectator feel as if the solar system was revolving around him at a +greatly accentuated speed. + +As a beginning lesson for the layman who attended the opening, +Professor Fox set the machine to represent the latitude of Chicago on +May 10, 1930. Every one turned his eyes to the east, where a +silhouette of Lake Michigan, with its lighthouses and ore ships, is +painted on the plaster horizon. The dome was lighted to represent a +clear night, and, incidentally, all nights are clear in a planetarium. +The machine was started and up from the center of the Lake jumped +Mars, red against the darkness. + +Professor Fox, with a flashlight that throws the image of an arrow, +pointed out the stars as they appeared over the dome. The coming of +Mars forecast the dawn of May 10 and in a few moments the sun emerged +from the proper latitudinal position out of the lake and blazed its +way across the heavens and set behind the silhouette of the Standard +Oil Building on the west wall of the dome in less than a minute, +denoting that the day had passed in review. At 3:43 P. M. central +standard time, the midget moon arose and sailed its course and then +set behind the darkened picture of the Straus Tower. + +Then Professor Fox ran off Sunday, Monday and Tuesday for good +measure, each time with Mars heralding the dawn and the sun changing +position as it does in reality. Fifty centuries of astronomical +history can be run off in an hour by the machine. The planets are +visible during the day in the planetarium as well as night. + + + + +The Moon Weed + +_By Harl Vincent_ + +[Illustration: _Bart hacked and hacked at the rubbery growth._] + + +[Sidenote: Unwittingly the traitor of the Earth, Van pits himself +against the inexorably tightening web of plant-beasts he has released +from the moon.] + +Hobart Madison pursed his lips in a whistle of incredulous surprise as +he regarded the object that lay in the palm of his hand. An ordinary +pebble, it seemed to be, but a pebble in which a strange fire +smouldered and showed itself here and there through the dull surface. + +"Would you mind repeating what you just said, Van?" he asked. + +"You heard me the first time. I say that that's a diamond and that it +came from the moon." Carl Vanderventer glared at his friend in +resentment of his doubting tone. + +"Mean to tell me you've been there? To the moon?" + +"Certainly not. I'm not a Jules Verne adventurer. But I'm telling you +that stone is a diamond of the first water and that it came from the +moon. Weighs over a hundred carats, too. You can have it appraised +yourself if you think I'm kidding you." + +Bart Madison laughed. "Don't get sore, Van," he said. "I'm not +doubting your word. But Lord, man--the thing's so incredible! It takes +a little time to soak in. And you say there are more?" + +"Sure. This one's the largest of five I've found so far. And there's +other stuff, too. Wait till you see. Fossils, beetles and things. I +tell you, Bart, the moon was inhabited at one time. I've the evidence +and I want you to be the first to see it." The eyes of the young +scientist shone with excitement as he saw that his friend was roused +to intense interest. + +"So that's what all your experimenting has been aimed at. No wonder it +cost so much." + +"Yes, and you've been a brick for financing me. Never asked a +question, either. But Bart, it'll all come back to you now. Know how +much that stone's worth?" + +"Plenty, I guess. But, forget about the financing and all that. +Where's this laboratory of yours?" Madison had pushed his chair back +from his desk and was reaching for his hat. + +"Over in the Ramapo Mountains, not far from Tuxedo. I'll have you +there in two hours. Sure you can spare the time to go out there now?" +Vanderventer was enthusiastically eager. + +"Spare the time? You just try and keep me from going!" + +Neither of them noticed the sinister figure that lurked outside the +door which led into the adjoining office. They chattered excitedly as +they passed into the outer hall and made for the elevator. + + * * * * * + +Vanderventer's laboratory was a small domed structure set in a +clearing atop the mountain and well hidden from the winding road which +was the only means of approach. Though Bart Madison, who had inherited +his father's prosperous brokerage business, had financed his friend's +research work ever since the two left college, this was his first +visit to the secluded workshop, and its wealth of equipment was +revealed to him as a complete surprise. He had always thought of Van's +experiments as something beyond his ken; something uncanny and +mysterious. Now he was convinced. + +The most prominent single piece of apparatus in the laboratory was a +twelve-inch reflecting telescope which reared its latticed framework +to a slit in the dome overhead. Paralleling its axis and secured to +the same equatorial mounting was a shining tube of copper which +bristled with handwheels and levers and was connected by heavy +insulated cables to an amazing array of electrical machinery that +occupied an entire side of the single room. + +"Regular young observatory you've got here, Van," Bart commented when +he had taken all this in in one sweeping glance of appraisal. + +"Yeah, and then some. Not another like it in the world." Van was +busying himself with the controls of his electrical equipment, and a +powerful motor-generator started up with a click and a whirr as he +closed a starting switch. + +Madison watched in silence as the swift-fingered scientist fussed with +the complicated adjustments of the apparatus and then turned to the +massive concrete pedestal on which his telescope was mounted. At his +touch of a button the instrument swung over on its polar axis to a new +position. The slit in the dome was opened to the afternoon sky, +revealing the lunar disc in its daytime faintness. + +"You can see it just as well in daylight?" Bart asked as his friend +peered through the eyepiece of the telescope and continued his +adjustments. + +"Sure, the surface is just as bright as at night. Doesn't seem so to +your eye, but it's different through the telescope. Here, take a +look." + + * * * * * + +Bart squinted through the eyepiece and saw a huge crater with a +shadowed spire in its center. Like a shell hole in soft earth it +appeared--a great splash that had congealed immediately it was made. +The cross-hairs of the eyepiece were centered on a small circular +shadow near its inner rim. + +"That," Van was saying, "is a prominent crater near the Mare Nubium. +The spot under the cross-hairs is that from which I have obtained the +diamonds--and other things. Watch this now, Bart." + +The young broker straightened up and saw that his friend was removing +the cover from a crystal bowl that was attached to the lower end of +the copper tube that pointed to the heavens at the same ascension and +declination as the telescope. The air of the room vibrated to a +strange energy when he closed a switch that lighted a dozen vacuum +tubes in the apparatus that lined the wall. + +"You say you bring the stuff here with a light ray?" he asked. + +"No, I said with the speed of light. This tube projects a ray of +vibrations--like directional radio, you know--and this ray has a +component that disintegrates the object it strikes and brings it back +to us as dissociated protons and electrons which are reassembled in +the original form and structure in this crystal bowl. Watch." + +A misty brilliance filled the bowl's interior. Intangible shadowy +forms seemed to be taking shape within a swirling maze of ethereal +light that hummed and crackled with astounding vigor. Then, abruptly, +the apparatus was silent and the light gone, revealing an odd object +that had taken form in the bowl. + +"A starfish!" Bart gasped. + +"Yeah, and fossilized." Van handed it to him and he took it in his +fingers gingerly as if expecting it to burn them. + + * * * * * + +The thing was undoubtedly a starfish, and of light, spongy stone. Its +color was a pale blue and the ambulacral suckers were clearly +discernible on all five rays. + +"Lord! You're sure this is from the moon?" Bart turned the starfish +over in his hand and gazed stupidly at his friend. + +"Certainly, you nut. Think I had it up my sleeve? But here, watch +again, there's something else." + +The crackling, misty light again filled the bowl. + +"Suppose," Bart ventured, "you bring in something large--big as a +house, let's say. What would it do to your machine?" + +"Can't. The ray'll only pick up stuff that'll enter the bowl. +Look--here's the next arrival." + +The mysterious light died down and the scientist picked up the second +object with trembling fingers. It was a knife of beautiful +workmanship, fashioned from obsidian and obviously the work of human +hands. + +"There! Didn't I tell you?" Van gloated. "Guess that shows there were +living beings on the moon." + +He made minute changes in the adjustment of his marvelous instrument +and Bart watched in dazed astonishment as object after object +materialized before their eyes. There were fragments of strange +minerals; more fossils, marine life, mostly; a roughly beaten silver +plate; three diamonds, none of which was as large as what Van had +taken to New York, but all of considerable value. + +"This'll be something for the papers, Van!" Bart Madison was visioning +the fame that was to come to his friend. + +"Yeah, all but the diamonds." + + * * * * * + +"All but the diamonds is right!" + +These words were spoken by a sarcastic voice, chill as an icicle, that +came from the open door. They wheeled to look into the muzzles of two +automatic pistols that were trained on them by a stocky individual who +faced them with a twisted, knowing grin. + +"Danny Kelly!" Bart gasped, raising his hands slowly to the level of +his shoulders. He knew the ex-army captain was a dead shot with the +service pistol, and a desperate man since his disgrace and forced +resignation. "What's the big idea?" he demanded. + +"You don't need to ask. Refused me a loan this morning, didn't you? +Now I'm getting it this way." Kelly turned savagely on Van, prodding +his ribs with a pistol. "Get 'em up, you!" he snapped. + +Van had been slow in raising his hands, gaping in stupefied amazement +at the intruder. Now he reached for the ceiling without delay. + +"You'll serve time for this, Danny!" Bart shouted. + +"Shut up! I know what I'm doing. And back up, too--where--no, the +other door." Kelly was forcing him toward the door of the cellar at +the point of one pistol as he kept Van covered with the other. + +Bart clenched his fist and brought it down in a sudden sweeping blow +that raked Kelly's cheek and ear with stunning force. But the gunman +recovered in a flash, dropped the muzzle of his pistol and pulled the +trigger. Drilled through the thigh, Bart staggered through the open +door and fell the length of the stairs into the darkness of the +cellar. Kelly laughed evilly as he slammed the door and turned the +key. + +"Hold it, you!" he snarled as he swung on Van who had dropped his +hands and crouched for a spring. "If I drill you, it won't be through +the leg. I'll take those diamonds now." + + * * * * * + +He pocketed one of his pistols, and, keeping the other pressed to the +pit of Van's stomach, went through his pockets. Then he added those on +the tray by the crystal bowl to the collection, and transferred the +entire lot to his own pocket. + +"Now, you clever engineer," he grinned, "we'll just operate this trick +machine of yours for a while and collect some more. Hop to it!" He +watched narrowly as Van stretched his fingers to the controls. "No +monkey business, either," he grated; "you'll not change a single +adjustment. I've been listening to you and I know the clock of the +telescope is keeping the ray trained on the same spot. You just +operate the ray and nothing else. Get me?" + +Van did not think it expedient to tell him of the drift caused by +inaccuracies in the clock and perturbations of the moon's motion. He +was playing for time, trying to plan a course of action. + +"There may not be any more diamonds," he offered as he tripped the +release of the ray. + +"Oh, there'll be more. Don't try to kid me." + +An irregular block of quartz materialized in the bowl and Kelly tossed +it to the floor in savage disgust. Then a small diamond, very small; +but he pocketed it nevertheless. The next object was a strange one--a +dried seed pod about six inches in length and of brilliant red color. +The ray had shifted to a new position on the lunar surface. Another +and another of the strange legumes followed, one of them bursting open +and scattering its contents, bright red like the enclosing pod to +rattle over the floor like tiny glass beads. Kelly snorted his +disgust. + +"Still some sort of vegetation out there," Van muttered. The eternal +scientist in the man could not be downed by a mere hold-up. + +"Can the chatter!" Kelly snarled as the crystal bowl gave up another +of the useless pods and still another. He gathered up the evidence of +lunar vegetation, a half dozen of the pods, and threw them through the +open doorway with a savage gesture. "You trying to put one over on +me?" he bellowed. + +"How can I?" Van retorted mildly. "I haven't touched a handwheel." He +was wondering vaguely whether this lunar seed would grow in earthly +soil; what sort of a plant it would produce under the new environment. + +Kelly was becoming nervous now. It seemed that little was to be gained +by hanging around this crazy man's laboratory. He had a sizable +fortune in rough stones already. That big one alone, when properly cut +into smaller stones, would make him independent. Maybe there weren't +any more, anyway. And the longer he stayed the greater chance there +was of getting caught. + +The advent of another of the pods decided him. A quick blow with the +butt of his pistol stretched Van on the floor and Kelly fled the +scene. + + * * * * * + +Bart was pounding furiously on the cellar door when Van first took +hazy note of his surroundings. Several uncertain minutes passed before +he was able to stagger across the room and release his friend. + +"Where is he?" Bart demanded, swaying on his feet and blinking in the +sudden light. + +"Gone. Socked me and beat it with the diamonds." Van was mopping the +blood from his eyes with a handkerchief. "Are you hit bad?" he +inquired. + +"No, just a flesh wound. Hurts like the devil, though. How about +yourself?" Bart limped to his side and sighed with relief when he +examined his bleeding scalp. "Not so bad yourself, old man. Where's +your first aid kit?" + +Van was still somewhat dazed and merely pointed to the cabinet. "Fine +pair we turned out to be!" he grumbled after his head had cleared a +bit under Bart's vigorous cleansing of the cut on his temple. "Here we +stood, meek as a couple of lambs, and let that guy get away with +murder." + +"Yeah, but those forty-fives made the difference. Ouch!" Bart winced +as his friend poured fresh iodine over the wound in his leg. "Have a +heart, will you?" + +They were startled into silence by a hoarse, strangled scream that +came from outside the laboratory. "Help! Help!" someone repeated in a +panicky voice--a voice which at once ended on a gurgled note of +despair. + +"It's Kelly!" Bart whispered. "He's come back. Something's happened to +him." He started for the open door. + +"Wait a minute. It may be a trick to get us outside where he can pop +us off." + +"No, it isn't. For God's sake, look!" Bart had reached the door and +was pointing at the ground with shaking forefinger. + + * * * * * + +The entire clearing seemed to be alive with wriggling things--long +rubbery tentacles that crawled along the ground, reaching curling ends +high in the air and had even started climbing the trees at the edge of +the clearing. Blood red they were, and partially transparent in the +light of the setting sun; growing things, attached by their thick ends +to swelling mounds of red that seemed anchored to the ground. +Translucent stalks rose from the mounds and sprouted huge buds that +burst and blossomed into flaming flowers a foot in diameter, then +withered and went to seed in a moment of time. But always the weaving +tendrils shot forth with lightning speed, reaching and feeling their +uncanny way along the ground and over tree stumps into the woods. One +of them emerged from a hollow stump with its slender end coiled around +the tiny body of a chattering gray squirrel. + +"The moon flowers!" Van cried. + +"What do you mean--moon flowers?" + +"Dried seed pods. They came over into the bowl, and Kelly threw them +out. Now look at the damned things. They're alive!" + +Kelly's voice came to them once more from behind the barrier of +rapidly growing vegetation. "Help!" he screeched. "I'll give back the +diamonds--anything! Only get me away from the things!" + +"Ought to let 'em get him," Van growled. + +Bart shivered. "Too horrible, Van. Got an ax or anything?" + +"There's a hatchet around back. Maybe we can--" + + * * * * * + +But the young broker had scuttled around the corner of the building +and Van looked after him anxiously. The vile red tendrils were +reaching for the east wall of the laboratory, and he saw that their +inner surfaces were covered with tiny suckers like those on the arms +of a devil-fish. Carnivorous plants, undoubtedly, these awful +half-animal, half-vegetable things whose seed had been transported +across a quarter million miles of space. Man eaters! Deadly, and +growing with incredible speed. Even the short-lived flowers were +fearsome, as they opened their scarlet pansy-like faces and stared a +moment before they folded up and shriveled into the seed cases like +those that had materialized in the crystal bowl. + +Then he noticed that the pods were opening and spreading more of the +terrible seed. Nothing could stop this weird growth, now. It would +cover the country like a sea of flaming horror, overcoming and +devouring every living thing. Cold fear clutched at Van as he realized +the enormity of the calamity that had come to the earth. + +Bart was skirting the edge of the clearing with the hatchet in his +hand, and Van tried to call out to him, to warn him. But his voice +caught in his throat, and instead he ran to his assistance, circling +the spreading menace to get around behind where Kelly was still +shouting. Damn Kelly anyway! This never would have happened if he +hadn't come on the scene! + +Kelly was in the woods, wedged into the crotch of a tree and striking +wildly at the clutching tendrils with his clubbed pistol. They mashed +easily and dripping red, but were not to be deterred from their +ghastly purpose. Kelly's time would have indeed been short had not his +erstwhile victims come to the rescue. One of the thickest of the +twining things encircled his body and had him pinned to the tree. His +breath was coming in gasps as its tightening coils increased their +pressure. His coarse features were livid and his eyes bulged from +their sockets. + +Bart hacked and hacked at the rubbery growth until he had him free; +jerked him from his perch, blubbering and whining like a schoolboy. +His shirt had been torn from his breast and they saw a great red welt +where the blood had been drawn through the pores by those terrible +suckers. + +"Look out, Bart!" Van shouted. + + * * * * * + +Another of the creeping things had come through the underbrush and was +wrapping its coils around Bart's ankle. Another and another wriggled +through, and soon they were battling for their own freedom. Kelly +staggered off into the woods and went crashing down the hill, leaving +them to take care of themselves as best they might. + +The stench of the viscous liquid that oozed from the injured tendrils +was nauseous; it had something of a soporific effect; and the two +friends found themselves fighting the terror in a growing mist of red +that blinded and confused them. Then, miraculously, they were free and +Van assisted Bart as they ran through the forest. When they reached +the road, weak and out of breath, they were just in time to see +Kelly's roadster vanish around the bend. + +"Yeah, he'd give back the diamonds--the swine!" Van muttered +vindictively. Then, shrugging his shoulders, "Well, they won't be much +good to him, anyway. Wouldn't be any good to us either, as far as that +goes." + +"What do you mean? Aren't they real?" Bart was raising himself +painfully into the seat of Van's car, his wounded leg suddenly very +much in the way. + +"Sure they're real. But don't you realize what this thing means--this +ungodly growth that's started?" + +"Why--why, no. You mean it'll keep on growing?" + +"And how! Those inner stalks drop a new batch of seeds every five +minutes or so. Presto!--a flock of new plants spring up ten feet from +the first; dozens of them for every pod that drops. You know how +geometrical progression works out. They'll cover the whole +country--the whole world. Lord!" + +"Man alive, this is terrible! I hadn't thought of that before. What'll +we do?" + +"Yeah, that's the question: what can we do?" Van started his motor and +jerked the car to the road. "First off, we're going to get away from +here--fast!" + +Bart gripped his arm as he shifted into second gear. "Look, Van!" he +babbled. "They're out of the woods already. Loose! The red snakes are +loose from their stalks. They're alive, I tell you!" + +It was true. Several of the slimy red things were wriggling their way +over the macadam like great earthworms, but moving with the speed of +hurrying pedestrians. Free, and untrammeled by the roots and stems of +the mother plants, they had set forth on their own in the search for +beings of flesh and blood to destroy. Millions of their kind would +follow; billions! + +In sudden panic Van stepped on the gas. + + * * * * * + +Fifteen minutes later, with shrieking siren, a motorcycle drew +alongside and forced them to the curb. "Where's the fire?" the +sarcastic voice of a stern-visaged officer demanded, when Van had +brought his car to a screeching stop. Seventy-five, the speedometer +had read but a moment before. + +"It's life and death, officer," Van started to explain. "We must get +to the proper officials to warn the--" + +"Aw, tell it to the judge! Come on now, follow me." + +"But officer, there's death on its way from the hills, I tell you. +Red, creeping things that'll be here in a couple of hours--" + +"Get away, from that wheel. I'll drive you in meself. You're fulla +applejack." + +Bart had opened the door on his side and was limping his way around +the back of the car. This was serious. They had to get away; had to +spread the word in a way that would be believed before it was too +late. The officer was tugging at Van's arm, astonishment and black +rage showing in his weather-beaten countenance. Speeding, drunk, +resisting an officer--they'd never get out of this mess! A swift +uppercut interrupted the proceedings. Bart's leg was numb and stiff, +but his good right arm was working smoothly and with all its old time +precision. His second punch was a haymaker. With his full weight +behind it, it drove straight to the chin and stretched the officer on +the concrete. Thoughtfully, Bart removed his pistol from its holster +before scrambling in at Van's side. + +"Boy, now we're in for it!" he gasped. + +"And we might as well make a good job while we're at it." Van let in +his clutch with a jerk, and again they were breaking all traffic +regulations. + + * * * * * + +It was dusk when they roared in through the gate at the Rockland +County Airport and pulled up at the hangar office. Van rushed in, +shouting for Bill Petersen, and Bart followed. A slender, fair-haired +youth in rumpled flying togs greeted them. + +"Bill, my friend, Bart Madison," Van blurted without pausing for +breath. "Listen, we've got to have a plane right away. Got one with a +radio?" + +"Yes, but what's all the rush? Where you going?" + +"Albany. Right away. Make it snappy, will you?" + +"Sure, but what's it all about?" Young Petersen was leading them to +the field where a sleek mono-plane was in waiting as if they had +ordered it. "Warm her up, Joe," he called to the mechanic. + +"Listen, Bill--I never lied to you, did I?" Van asked, when they were +seated in the plane's cabin. + +"Not that I know of. But sometimes I've thought you were lying, until +I saw with my own eyes the things you had told me about. What is it +this time?" + +"Death and destruction. Coming down out of the Ramapos. We've got to +warn the country. Plants, Bill--squirmy red plants with long feelers +that can twist around a man and devour him. Half animal, they are, and +the feelers break loose and crawl by themselves. Multiplying like +nothing you ever saw. Millions of them in an hour." + +"What?" Petersen stared incredulously as his motor roared into life. +Then he gave his attention to the business of taking off. He jerked +the thumb of his free hand toward the radio. + + * * * * * + +Van's expert fingers manipulated the switches and dials of the +portable apparatus, and its vacuum tubes glowed into life. "2BXX +calling 2TIM," he droned into the microphone. + +"Who's that?" Bart asked. The drone of the motor was barely audible in +the closed cabin and did not interfere. + +"The _Times_. Trying to get Johnny Forbes. If anyone can get this +thing across, he can. Wait a minute, here they are." He closed his +eyes as he listened to the murmuring voice in the headphones. + +Then he was talking rapidly, forcefully, and the young flyer gazed +with owlish solemnity at Bart as they listened to his conversation. It +was plain that Bill was but half inclined to believe, though impressed +by the earnestness and evident apprehension displayed by his two +passengers. + +"Yes, 2BXX," Van was saying. "Connect me with Johnny Forbes, +please--in a hurry. Yes.... Hello, Johnny, it's Van--Carl +Vanderventer, you know. Yes; got a scoop for you, but first I want you +to get it in the broadcasts. Get me? It's about a man-eating plant +that's starting to overrun the country. No--listen now, I'm not +dreaming--listen--" + +The frantic scientist rambled on and on about the seed from the moon, +the red death that was creeping down from the mountains, the horror of +the calamity as he and Bart had visioned it. Then, with a sudden note +of despair, his voice trailed off into nothingness and he turned a +drawn white face to his two friends. + +"Laughed at me. Hung up on me," he groaned. "Good God! We've got to do +something--quick!" + +"Be in Albany in an hour," the pilot suggested. "What you going to do +there?" He believed, now. His expression of horror showed it. + +"See the governor. But, man, it's an hour wasted! We must stir up the +country--get the word to Washington--everywhere. It might be possible +to fight the things some way if we can mobilize State and National +resources quickly enough. Bill, Bart, what can we do?" + + * * * * * + +The plane sped on through the night under control of her gyro-pilot as +the three men racked their brains for a solution of the problem. If a +hard-boiled newspaper man would not believe the story, who could? + +"I've got it!" Bart shouted suddenly. "Can either of you pound a +key--code, I mean?" + +"Sure, I can. Then what?" Petersen returned. + +"Fake an S. O. S. Don't you see? All broadcasting has to stop, and +every ship at sea, every air liner in this part of the country'll be +listening--standing by. Give 'em the story in code. Let 'em think +we're in a ship from the moon--captured by Lunarians who are here to +destroy the world with this weed of theirs--anything. Make it as weird +as possible. Most everyone'll think it's a hoax, but there are ten +thousand kids--amateurs--who'll be listening in. Somebody'll believe +it, and, believe me, there'll be some investigating in the +neighborhood of the growth in no time." + +"By George, I believe that'll do it!" Van exclaimed. "And the +broadcasters listen in for an S. O. S. themselves. Got to, you know, +so they know when to start up again. Some smart announcer will tell +the story--maybe even believe it. The trick will work, sure as +shooting!" + + * * * * * + +The pilot glanced at his instruments and saw that the automatic +gyro-apparatus was functioning properly. Then he moved over to the +radio and threw the switch that put the key in circuit instead of the +microphone. Rapidly he ticked off the three dots, three dashes, and +again three dots that spelled the dread danger signal of the air. Over +and over he repeated the signal, and then he listened for results. + +"It worked!" he gloated, after a moment. "They're all signing off--the +broadcasters. The Navy Yard in Brooklyn gives me the go-ahead." + +He pounded out the absurd message with swift fingers, pausing +occasionally to ask a pertinent question of Van or Bart. At Van's +request he added a warning to all residents of New York State west of +the Hudson River and of northern New Jersey to flee their homes +without delay. He even asked that the message be relayed to the +governors of the two states, and that Governor Perkins of New York be +advised that they were on their way to Albany to discuss the +situation. But he balked at the story of the Lunarians, telling +instead the equally strange truth regarding the origin of the deadly +growth, and adding the names of Van and Bart to lend authenticity to +the tale. + +Then he signed off and switched the radio receiver to the loud speaker +before returning to the pilot's seat. + +Bart tuned in on the various broadcasters as they resumed their +programs, finally settling on WOR, Newark, whose announcer was +reading the strange message to his radio public with appropriate +comment. A crime and an outrage he called it, an affront to the +industry and to the public. An insult to the government of the United +States. But wait! A telephone call had just been received at the +station from the village of Sloatesburg. A reputable citizen of that +town had reported the red growth at the edge of the State road--huge +red earthworms wriggling across the concrete. Another call, and +another! The announcer's voice was rising hysterically. + +"It _did_ work, Bart," Van exulted. "Now the hell starts popping." + + * * * * * + +Governor Perkins met them in person when they arrived at the Municipal +Airport in Albany. A great crowd had gathered in the shadows outside +the brilliance of the flood lights, and a police escort rushed them to +the governor's private car. + +"Here's where you go to the Bastille for socking that cop," Van +observed. His spirits had risen appreciably since that successful S. +O. S. call. + +But the governor was in a serious mood, as they made their way toward +the executive mansion through the milling crowds that lined the hilly +streets of the capital city of New York State. Proofs had not been +lacking of the truth of Bill Petersen's radio warning. Already the +spreading red death had covered a circle some eight miles in diameter, +covering farm lands and destroying the crops, blocking the roads and +trapping many on the streets and in their homes in nearby towns. More +than a hundred had lost their lives, and thousands were fleeing the +threatened area. The country was in an uproar. + +"Gentlemen," the governor said, when they had reached the privacy of +his chambers, "this is a serious matter, and no time must be lost in +dealing with it. Nevertheless, I want you, Mr. Vanderventer, to tell +your story of the thing to me and to the radio system of the United +States Secret Service. The President himself will be listening, as +will the chief executives of most of the states. Hold nothing back, as +the fate of our people is at stake." + + * * * * * + +So Van faced the microphone and related the history of his work in the +little laboratory in the Ramapo Mountains. He told of his interest in +the earth's satellite, and of his first unsuccessful experiments with +ultra-telescopes in the endeavor to explore its surface close at hand; +of the failure of a space-ship he had built; of the final discovery of +the ray, by means of which it was possible to transport solid objects +from the one body to the other. He told of the discovery of man-made +relics and of fossils; he told of the diamonds, and of the attack by +Dan Kelly which had resulted in the spreading of the seed of the +deadly moon weed. He even related the incident of the traffic +policeman, at which the governor smiled. + +"That has been reported," he said, "and you need have no fear on that +score.--The charges will be dropped. I now ask that you give us your +opinion as to the best method of combatting this new enemy. Have you +any ideas?" + +"I have not, sir," Van replied gloomily, "though I believe it can be +done only from the air. Possibly bombing, or a gas of some sort--I +don't know. It will take time, Mr. Governor." + +"Yes, and meanwhile the thing is overwhelming us at what rate?" + +"As nearly as I can estimate it, the growth is moving with a speed of +four or five miles an hour." + +"By morning you expect it will have traveled forty or fifty miles in +all directions?" + +"I'm afraid so." + +A sharp buzz from the instrument on the governor's desk interrupted +them. "The President," he whispered. + +"That is enough, Governor," came the husky tones of President Alford's +voice. "I shall communicate with Secretary Makely at once. All +available army bombing-planes will be rushed to the scene. You, sir, +will mobilize the militia, as will the governors of the other states. +Meanwhile, this young scientist is to report to the Bureau of +Scientific Research in Washington--to-night. Have him bring a supply +of these seeds with him." + +That was all. Governor Perkins offered no comment, but merely rose +from his seat to indicate that the discussion was ended. A solemn +silence reigned in the room. + +"Let's go!" exclaimed Bill Petersen suddenly, unawed by the presence +of the governor. "My ship's waiting, and we can stop off for a couple +of those pods and still make Washington in two hours. Come on!" + +Governor Perkins smiled. "Good luck, boys," he said, as they were +ushered from the room. "My car will return you to the airport. And +remember, the country will be watching you now, and expecting much +from you. Good-by." + +They were to recall his words in the dark days ahead. + + * * * * * + +Before they had reached Newburgh, they saw a dull red glow in the +skies that told them the news broadcast to which they had been +listening had not exaggerated. The red growth was luminous in +darkness. Off there to the south-west, it was as if a vast forest fire +were lighting the heavens. No wonder the panics and rioting were +getting out of control of the police! + +Coming up over Bear Mountain, they caught their first glimpse of the +sea of fire that was the red death by night. Like a vast bed of +glowing embers it covered the countryside, extending eastward to +Haverstraw where it was temporarily halted by the broad Hudson. It was +a shimmering, undulating mass of living, luminous things, eating their +horrible way through all organic matter that stood in their path. +Writhing, squirming, all-absorbing monsters that sent out an advance +guard of independent snake-like tendrils to capture and hold for the +lagging mother-plants whatever of live stock and humanity they were +able to find. + +"Think they'll get over the river, Van?" Bart asked. + +"Sure they will. Every fugitive who had a narrow escape after being in +contact with the things is a potential carrier of the seed. I found +several of them sticking to my clothing after we got away. I picked a +couple off your coat, but didn't tell you." + +"Lord! What did you do with them?" + +"Put them in the ash receiver in my car--like a fool. Wouldn't have to +go down for more if I'd kept them." + +"Well, it can't be helped now. We'll have a job getting some down +there now, too." + +"I'll say so." Van lapsed into gloomy silence. + + * * * * * + +They were over the landing field above Tomkins Cove, and Bill turned +on the siren whose raucous shriek operated the mechanism of the +floodlight switches by sound vibrations. The field sprang into instant +illumination, and they circled it once before swooping to a landing. +They were but a mile from the advancing terror. + +The field was deserted, and the three men started off immediately in +the direction of the oncoming weed. + +"We'll have to make it snappy," Van grunted. "We've got about twelve +minutes to get the pods and get back to the ship. The damn things'll +be here by that time." + +They scrambled over fences and pushed through thickets. The lighted +windows of a deserted farmhouse were directly ahead, and they ran +through the open gate and across the fields. Ever, the glow of the +weed grew brighter. A terrified horse galloped wildly past them and +crashed into the fence, whinnying piteously as it went down with a +broken leg. They could see the red rim of the advancing horror just +beyond the road. + +One of the detached tendrils slithered past, each glowing coil +distinctly visible. + +"Lucky the things can't see!" Bart shuddered. + +"Yeah," said Van. "Have to dodge 'em to get in close enough to one of +the plants. Keep your eyes peeled now, you fellows, in case one of us +gets caught." + +A terrific explosion rocked the ground. They had paid no heed to the +roaring of motors overhead. The bombers were on the job! Shooting +skyward, a column of flame not a hundred yards from them showed where +the high explosive had landed in the red mass. Then, slimy wriggling +things rained all about them, fragments of the red weed that still +squirmed and crawled and clung. Bill Petersen yelled and clutched at +his neck where one of the things had taken hold. + +Another warning whistle of a falling bomb. Crash! More of the horror +raining down and splattering as it fell. Whistle--crash! A huge blob +of quivering, luminous jelly fell before them--a portion of one of the +mother-plants. Crash! Crash! + +"Run!" Van shouted. "Run for the plane. We'll never make it now. Damn +those bombers, anyway!" + +All along the advancing front, the bombs were bursting, shattering the +air with their detonations and scattering the glowing red stems and +tendrils in all directions. The din was appalling, and the increasing +brightness of the crimson glow added to the horror of the situation. +Stumbling and cursing, they ran for the plane. + +"Fools! Fools!" Bill was shouting. "Can't they see the field and the +plane? Why in the devil are they dropping them so near?" + + * * * * * + +Then Bart was down, clawing at a three-foot length of red tendril that +had fallen on him and borne him to the earth. + +"Bart! Bart!" Van turned back and was tearing at the thing with +fingers that were slippery with the sap that oozed from its torn skin. +Monstrous earthworms! Cut them apart and each portion lived on, took +on new vigor. And these vile things could sting like a jellyfish! +Where each sucker touched the skin a burning sore remained. + +Bill helped them break away from the thing, and all three fought on +toward the lights of the landing field. Only a short way off now; it +seemed they would never reach it. The bombers were dropping their +missiles with unceasing regularity, and the red death only spread the +faster. + +When they scrambled into the cabin of the plane, the red wall of +creeping horror was almost upon them. Advancing speedily out from the +red-lit darkness, it seemed to halt momentarily, when it emerged into +the brilliance of the great arc-lights which illuminated the field. +Then, more slowly and with seemingly purposeful deliberation, the +wriggling feelers reached out from the mass and bore down upon them. +Bill slammed the door and latched it, then fumbled frantically with +the starter switch. A most welcome sound was the answering roar of +the motor. + +The pilot yanked his ship into the air, taking off with the wind +rather than running the risk of remaining on the ground long enough to +taxi around and head into it. The plane acted like a frightened bird +as Bill struggled with the controls, darting this way and that, and +once missing a crash by inches as the tail was lifted by the +treacherous ground wind. Then they were clear, and slowly gained +altitude in a steep climb. + +"Whew!" Van exclaimed, mopping his red-splattered forehead with his +handkerchief. "That was a narrow squeak, boys. And we haven't got the +seeds yet--unless we can find a few on our clothing." + +"Who said so?" Bart gloated. "Look at this." + +He opened his clenched fist and disclosed one of the pods, unbroken +and gleaming horribly scarlet in the dim light of the cabin. Bill +heaved a sigh of relief as he banked the ship and swung around toward +the south. He had dreaded another landing near the sea of moon weed. +Van chortled over their good fortune as he examined the mysterious +pod. One good thing the bombers had done, anyway! Blew one of the +things into his friend's hands. + + * * * * * + +Bart and the young pilot found themselves very much out of the picture +when they reported with Van at the Research Building in Washington. +The Government had no use for them in this emergency: it was the +scientist they wanted, and he was immediately rushed into conference +with the heads of the Bureau. His two friends were left to shift for +themselves, and they joined the crowds in the street. + +The name of Carl Vanderventer was on everyone's tongue. Cursing and +reviling him, they were, for the hare-brained experiment which had +been the cause of the terrible disaster. Fools! Bart seethed with rage +and nearly came to blows with a number of vociferous agitators who +were advocating a necktie-party. Why hadn't the officials published +the entire story as Van told it over the Secret Service radio? There +was no mention of Dan Kelly in the broadcast news, nor of the fact +that the police were searching for him in every city and town in the +country. Another instance of the results of secrecy in governmental +activities! + +"We'd better find ourselves a room and turn in," Bart growled. "Let's +get out of this mob before I slam somebody." + +Bill Petersen was only too willing. He was suddenly very tired. + +In the Willard Hotel they were assigned to an excellent room, and Bart +insisted on switching on the broadcasts and listening to the news. Far +into the night he sat by the loud-speaker, or paced the floor as an +exceptionally calamitous happening was reported. But Bill slept +through it all. + +The army bombers had been recalled. Their efforts had worked more harm +than good. The invincible moon weed now had crossed the Hudson River +at Nyack and Piermont. Tarrytown was overrun, and many of the +inhabitants had lost their lives either in the maws of the insatiable +monsters or in the panics and rioting that accompanied the evacuation +of the town. + + * * * * * + +New Jersey was covered as far south as New Brunswick, and west to +Phillipsburg and Belvidere. At Mauch Chunk the contents of twenty oil +tanks had been diverted to the Delaware River, and the floating oil +film was proving at least a temporary protection to a considerable +portion of the state of Pennsylvania. In New York State the growth +had buried hill and valley, town and village, as far as Monticello, +and, along the Hudson, extended as far north as Kingston. At +Poughkeepsie, on the opposite side of the river, frantic householders +had armed themselves with rifles and shotguns, and were killing off +all refugees who attempted to land from boats at that point. But the +militia was on guard at the bridges, assuring safe crossing to the +thousands who fled the red death over these routes. There was no +keeping the seed of the moon weed from finding its way east. + +At some points fire had been used with considerable success as a +barrier, hundreds of acres of forest lands being destroyed in the +endeavor to stem the crimson tide. But, after the ashes were cool, +germination would recur, and the weed would continue on its triumphant +way. Acid sprays and poison-gas of various kinds had been tried +without appreciable effect. The casualty estimates already ran into +the tens of thousands; rumor had it that nearly one hundred thousand +had lost their lives in the city of Newark alone. There was no way in +which the figures could be checked while everything was in a state of +confusion. + +Communication lines were broken, roads blocked, gas and electric +supply systems paralyzed and the railroads helpless. Trains could not +be driven through the glutinous, wriggling mass that piled high on the +tracks. Only the radio and the air lines were operative in the +stricken area, and even these were of little value to the unfortunates +who, in many cases, were surrounded and cut off from all hope of +succor. + +At four in the morning, with aching heart and reeling brain, Bart +threw himself on the bed without undressing and fell into the troubled +sleep of exhaustion and despair. + + * * * * * + +The next day brought no encouragement, though it was reported that the +growth developed with less rapidity after sunrise than it had during +the night. Bart endeavored to get Van on the telephone, but was curtly +informed by the operator at the Research Building that no incoming +calls could be transferred to the laboratory where he was working. +Knowing his friend, he pictured him as working feverishly with the +Government engineers and giving no thought to sleep or food. He'd kill +himself, sure! But such a death, even, was preferable to the red one +of the moon weed. + +The Canadians and Mexicans had been quick to protect their borders and +forbid the landing of any American aircraft or the passage of trains +and automobiles. But the seed had reached Europe, one of the +twelve-hour night air-liners having carried a thousand refugees who +had sufficient foresight and the means to engage passage. It was a +world catastrophe they faced! + +By mid-afternoon the streets of Washington were almost deserted. It +was less than twenty-four hours since the first moon seed took root, +and already the crimson growth had progressed nearly a hundred miles +southward from the point of origin! Another twenty or thirty hours and +it would reach the capital city--unless Van and those engineers over +in the Research Building discovered something; a miracle. + +Bart tried the telephone once more and was overjoyed when the +operator, all apologies now, informed him that Van had been trying to +reach him for several hours. + +"Listen, old man," his friend's voice came over the wire: "I've been +worried as the devil not knowing where you were. I want you and Bill +to stick around where I can get you at any time. I may need you. Where +are you staying?" + +"The Willard. Have you doped out something?" Bart answered in quick +excitement. + +"Maybe. Can't let anything out yet--not till we've tested it +thoroughly. But I can tell you that a hundred factories are already +working on machines we've devised. By good luck it only means minor +changes to an apparatus that is on the market in large quantity." + +"Great stuff. The city's nearly emptied itself, you know, and, boy, +how they've been razzing you over the radio and in the papers--howling +for your hide, the whole country." + +"I know." Van's voice was calm, but Bart sensed in it something of a +cold fury that was new to him in his friend. The young scientist was +bitterly resentful of the attitude of the public. + +"Can we see you, Van?" + +"No, nor call me either. Better hang around the hotel and wait for a +call from me. So long now, Bart. I've got to get busy." + +"So long." + +Bart gazed solemnly at Bill Petersen, who had been listening +abstractedly to the one-sided conversation. Bill had given up hope and +was resigned to the inevitable. + +"Says he may need us, Bill," said Bart. + +"Yeah? Well, we'll be ready for anything he wants us to do. It's no +use though--anything." + +"What do you mean--no use? You never saw Van licked yet, did you?" + +"Sure I did. By his super-telescopes and the rocket ship." + +"But this is different." Bart was a staunch defender of his friend. He +glared at Bill for a moment and then switched on the news broadcast +which he knew he detested. + + * * * * * + +The progress of the moon weed continued unabated. In the city of New +York a million souls were reported as having lost their lives, and +this in spite of the difficulty experienced by the uncanny moon weed +in obtaining a foothold in Manhattan. It had been thought that the +asphalt and concrete would prove an effective barrier, and so they did +for a time. But, with the seed active in the parks and along the water +fronts, it was not long before the powerful roots of the greedy plants +worked their way underneath, ripping up pavements and wriggling into +cellars as they progressed. The city was a mass of wreckage and a +maelstrom of fighting, dying humanity. + +Whole regiments of the National Guard were wiped out as they fought +off the weed with ax and bayonet, in the effort to provide time for +the refugees to clear from their homes in certain localities. All +transportation facilities to the south and west were taxed to the +utmost. There was fighting and killing for the possession of +automobiles and planes and for room in trains and buses. Air-line +terminals and railroad stations were the scenes of dreadful massacres +as the police and military guards fought off the crazed and desperate +creatures who attacked them en masse. And still the news announcers +prated of the responsibility of one Carl Vanderventer. + +The telephone bell rang, and Bart answered it in relief. At last they +were to see some action! But no, it was merely the desk clerk, +notifying him that all employees were leaving the hotel and that they +would be left to shift for themselves. Yes, there was plenty of food +in the kitchens; they were welcome to it. And a permanent telephone +connection would be made to their room. The frightened clerk wished +them luck. + + * * * * * + +In endless monotone, the voice of the news announcer droned on. +Binghamton and Elmira, Albany and Schenectady, New Haven, +Philadelphia, Allentown--all had succumbed. The casualty estimates now +ran into the millions. The mist, the red mist that rose from the +steaming weed, was drifting westward and spreading the seed with ever +increasing rapidity. For now the monstrous growth from out the sky was +adapting itself to its environment; providing the seed with feathery +tufts that permitted the winds to carry them far and wide like the +seed of a dandelion. + +"Turn off that damn thing!" Bill shouted. And he jumped to his feet, +his eyes glinting strangely in the twilight gloom of the room. Bill +was close to the breaking point. + +"Guess you're right," Bart mumbled. "Not good for either of us to +listen to that stuff." He switched off the receiver, and they sat in +silence as darkness fell over the city. + +Bill shivered and felt for the button of the electric light which he +pressed with a trembling finger. They blinked in the sudden +illumination, but it cheered them somewhat. It was not good to sit in +the darkness and think. Besides, they knew that the turbine generators +of Potomac Edison were still running. Some brave souls were sticking +to their jobs--for a time, at least. + +"God!" Bill suddenly groaned, after an endless time of dead silence. +"My sister! Lives in Pittsburgh, you know. Wonder if she and the kids +got away. It won't be long before the damn stuff gets there." + +Bart thanked his lucky stars that he had no family ties. "Oh, they've +had plenty of warning," he tried to console Bill. "Hours, you know; +and the westbound lines are in good shape from there. I wouldn't worry +about them if I were you." + +There was utter silence once more. Even the customary street noises +was lacking. Both men jumped nervously when the shrill siren of a +police motorcycle sounded in the distance. Bart thought grimly of his +fracas with the officer who had tried to arrest Van. How long ago that +seemed, and how inconsequential an incident! + +Their windows faced north, and by midnight they could make out the red +glow of the moon weed, that awful band of flickering crimson that +painted the horizon the color of blood. The telephone clamored for +attention and Bill stifled a hysterical sob as the terrifying sound +broke the eery stillness. + +Van was on the way to get them! He had a Government car and they were +to go to Arlington for Bill's plane. Then what? He refused to commit +himself: they must follow him blindly. Anything was better than this +inactivity, though. Bart shouted with glee. + + * * * * * + +"We're going north," Van replied shortly, in answer to Bart's question +when they entered the official car in front of the hotel, "after Dan +Kelly." + +"After Dan Kelly? Got a line on him?" + +"Yes. Secret Service reports him in Toronto. The Canucks are after him +now, but, by God, I'm going to get him myself!" + +Van was haggard and wan, his eyes gleaming with a fanatical light. The +strain had done something to him--something Bart didn't like at all. +This was a different Van from the man who had entered his office two +days previously. Unshaven and unkempt, he looked and talked like a +drunken man on the verge of delirium tremens. + +"What's the idea, Van?" he asked gently. + +"I'm going to get him. I tell you. The scum! It's his fault the whole +world's against me. I'll get him, Bart; I'll kill him with my bare +hands!" + +So that was it! The combination of gruelling labor in the effort to +save mankind from the dread moon weed, and bitter censure from the +very people he was trying to save, had been too much for Van. He had +developed a fixation, unreasoning and murderous; he'd get even with +the man who had caused the trouble. And nothing could deter him from +his purpose: Bart could see that. Might as well humor him and help +him. It made little difference, anyway, with the red doom spreading at +its present rate. They'd all be victims in a few days. + +They were speeding through the streets of Washington at a break-neck +rate. Van bent over the wheel, and like a demented man glued his +wildly staring eyes to the road. + +"What about your work?" Bart asked, after a while. "Has anything been +accomplished?" + +"Yes and no. They'll be ready to shoot in a few hours. Don't know +whether it'll be a complete success or not. But I sneaked away anyhow. +This other thing's more important to me right now." + +"What's the dope? Can you tell us now?" + +"Sure. I've got one of the machines in the car and I'll explain when +we're on our way to Canada." + +This wasn't like Van. Never secretive and always in good humor, he was +treating his friends like annoying strangers. + +"You can't land in Canada," Bill ventured, as they pulled up at the +gate of the airport. + +"Like hell I can't! You watch my smoke, and let any bloody Canuck up +there try and stop me!" + +He was lifting a small black case from the luggage carrier of the car +as he replied. Bart silenced the airman with a look. + + * * * * * + +When they had taken off and were well under way, Van opened his black +case and set a vacuum-tube apparatus in operation. They were nearing +the fringe of the glowing sea of red that was the vast blanket of moon +weed. It now extended to within a few miles of Baltimore and stretched +northward as far as the eye could see. + +"It was a cinch," Van was explaining. "When I first saw that the +growth slowed up under the arc-lights at Tomkins Cove it gave me the +glimmering of an idea. Then, on the following day, when we learned +that the weed spread more slowly in sunlight, I was convinced. The +stuff is dormant on the moon, you know." + +"Why?" Bart asked breathlessly. + +"Because there is no atmosphere surrounding the moon, and the sun's +rays are not filtered before they reach its surface as they are here. +The invisible rays, ultra-violet and such, are present in full +proportion. And the moon weed can not flourish when subjected to light +of the higher frequencies. It died out when the moon lost its +atmosphere, and only revived on being brought to earth--probably a +million times more prolific in our dense and damp atmosphere and rich +soil. The thing's a cinch to dope out." + +"Yeah!" Bart commented drily. Van was now talking and he could have +bitten off his tongue for interrupting him. + +This machine of Van's was a generator of invisible light in the +ultra-indigo range, Van explained. You couldn't see its powerful beam, +but they had proved in the laboratory that it was certain doom to the +moon weed. They had grown the stuff from seed in steel cages, and +played with it until they were all satisfied. Now would come the final +test. Ten thousand planes were being equipped with the new generator, +which was merely an adaptation of standard directional television +transmitters, and to-night these would start out to fight the weed. It +was a cinch! + + * * * * * + +Beneath them the red cauldron seethed and tossed as they sped +northward; the crimson blanket of death that was steadily covering the +country. + +"Drop to a thousand feet, Bill," the scientist called, "and then watch +below. But, don't slow down. We've got to get to Toronto!" + +The ship nosed down and soon leveled off at the prescribed altitude. +Van's vacuum tubes lighted to full brilliancy, and a black spot +appeared on the glowing surface just beneath them, a black spot that +extended into a streak as the plane continued on its way. They were +cutting a swath of blackness fifty feet wide through the heart of the +growth! + +"See that!" Van gloated. "It's killing them by millions! And the best +of it is the effect it leaves behind. The soil is permeated to a depth +of several inches and the stuff will not germinate in the spots where +the ray has contracted. Oh, it works to perfection!" + +Bill was exuberant; his hopes revived miraculously. He gave his motor +the gun and got out of it every last revolution that it could turn up. +He must get Van to Canada! Not such a bad idea, this going after +Kelly, at that! + +Bart was voluble in his praise, then caught himself short as he +remembered that he had doubted Van but a half hour previously: doubted +him and despaired. Now Van, lapsing into gloomy silence after his +triumph, was again thinking of nothing but revenge. The getting of Dan +Kelly meant more to him now than the extinction of the moon weed. + + * * * * * + +When they landed at the Toronto Airport they were welcomed with open +arms instead of with rifle fire as Bill had anticipated. The news had +gone forth. Already a thousand planes flying over the United States +were driving back the sea of destruction. The invisible ray was a +success, and the name of Carl Vanderventer was now a thing with which +to conjure, rather than one on which to heap imprecation and insult. +Van grimaced wryly at this last bit of news. + +Danny Kelly? No one at the airport had ever heard of him. Van +telephoned in to the city; to Police Headquarters. Yes, they had +apprehended the fugitive American at the request of Washington, but he +was a slippery customer. He had escaped. Van raged and fumed. + +Of what use were the congratulations of the night flyers who still +loitered in the hangar; of what consolation the radio reports of the +success of the ultra-indigo ray in the States and in Europe? He had +come after his man and he'd failed. Defeat was a bitter pill. + +The news broadcasts from the States were jubilant and became +increasingly so during the night. The moon weed was being driven back +on a wide front and by morning would be entirely surrounded. There +would be no further loss of life and little more destruction of +property. Carl Vanderventer had saved the day! Van grunted his disgust +whenever an announcer mentioned his name. + +When daylight came they prepared to return. Little use there was of +searching the highways and byways of Canada for the fugitive. He'd +simply have to wait until the Canadians were able to get a line on Dan +Kelly again.--It was maddening! But Bart was glad. The light of reason +was returning to his friend's eyes in the reaction. + +Then there was a telephone call from the city for Van. Police +Headquarters wanted him. The fanatical glint returned to his eyes when +he ran for the hangar to answer the call. Perhaps they had already +captured Kelly! And he had an order in his pocket for the man's +return to the States. He'd been made a deputy, and with Kelly released +to him anything might happen. Something would happen. + + * * * * * + +But the police were reporting the unexplainable reappearance of the +moon weed just outside the city limits at a point near Cookesville. +Would Mr. Vanderventer be so kind as to fly over there and destroy it +before any lives were lost? He would. + +The growth had covered an acre of ground by the time they reached the +spot designated. But it was the work of only a minute to blast it out +of existence with the ultra-indigo ray. Van surveyed the blackened and +shriveled mass with satisfaction. + +"Let's land and take a look at it," he said. + +Bart thought he saw a look of exultation flash over his careworn +features. + +Soon they were wading deep in the blackened remains of the moon weed. +The stems and tendrils snapped and crumbled into powder as they passed +through. The stuff was done for, no question of that. + +Bill Petersen yelled and pointed a shaking forefinger at an object +that lay in the blackened ruin. It was a human skeleton, the bones +bare of flesh and gleaming white in the light of the early morning +sun. Van was on his knees, quick as a flash, feeling around the +grewsome thing: pawing at the shreds of clothing that remained. + +Then he was on his feet, his face shining with unholy glee. In his +hands were a half dozen small, smooth objects which looked like +pebbles. The diamonds! + +"I thought so!" he exclaimed. "It's Kelly. Only way the seed could +have gotten up here. He had some on his clothes and didn't know it. I +couldn't get him myself--but anyway I'm satisfied." + + * * * * * + +He staggered and would have fallen, had not Bart caught him in his +arms. Poor old Van! Nearly killed him, this thing had, but he'd be +himself again, after it was all over. No wonder he'd gone out of his +head with the horror of it, and the blame that had been so cruelly +laid on him! No wonder he'd become obsessed with this idea of getting +square with Dan Kelly! But now he was content: sleeping like a babe in +Bart's arms. + +Tenderly they carried him to the plane and laid him out on the +cushions in back. They'd let him sleep as long as he could; return him +to Washington where he'd receive his just dues in recognition for his +services. Then would follow the work of reconstruction and +rehabilitation. Van would glory in that. + +Bart regarded his sleeping friend thoughtfully as they winged their +swift way toward the American border. The harsh lines that had showed +in his face during the past few hours were smoothed away and in their +place was an expression of deep contentment. He was at peace with the +world once more. Good old Van. + +What a difference there would be when he awakened to full realization +of the changed order of things! What satisfaction and relief! + +[Illustration: Advertisement] + + + + +The Port of Missing Planes + +_By Captain S. P. Meek_ + +[Illustration: _"That portion of the wall has gone back in time +exactly three seconds," he announced._] + + +[Sidenote: In the underground caverns of the Selom, Dr. Bird once +again locks wills with the subversive genius, Saranoff.] + +So that's the "Port of Missing Planes," mused Dick Purdy as he looked +down over the side of his cockpit. "It looks wild and desolate all +right, but at that I can't fancy a bus cracking up here and not being +found pronto. Gosh, Wilder cracked in the wildest part of Arizona and +he was found in a week." + +The mail plane droned monotonously on through perfect flying weather. +Purdy continued to study the ground. Recently transferred from a +western run, he was getting his first glimpse of that section of ill +repute. Below him stretched a desolate, almost uninhabited stretch of +country. By looking back he could see Bellefonte a few miles behind +him, but Philipsburg, the next spot marked on his map, was not yet +visible. Twelve hundred feet below him ran a silver line of water +which his map told him was Little Moshannon Run. As he watched he +suddenly realized that the ground was not slipping by under him as +rapidly as it should. He glanced at his air-speed meter. + +"What the dickens?" he cried in surprise. For an hour his speed had +remained almost constant at one hundred miles an hour. Without +apparent cause it had dropped to forty, less than flying speed. He +realized that he was falling. A glance at his altimeter confirmed the +impression. The needle had dropped four hundred feet and was slowly +moving toward sea-level. + + * * * * * + +With an exclamation of alarm, Purdy advanced his throttle until the +three motors of his plane roared at full capacity. For a moment his +air-speed picked up, but the gain was only momentary. As he watched, +the meter dropped to zero, although the propellers still whirled at +top speed. His altimeter showed that he was gradually losing +elevation. + +He stood up and looked over the side of his plane. The ground below +him was stationary as far as forward progress was concerned, but it +was slowly rising to meet him. He fumbled at the release ring of his +parachute but another glance at the ground made him hesitate. It was +not more than three hundred feet below him. + +"I must be dreaming!" he cried. The ground was no longer stationary. +For some unexplained reason he was going backward. The motors were +still roaring at top speed. Purdy dropped back into his seat in the +cockpit. With his ailerons set for maximum lift he coaxed every +possible revolution from his laboring motors. For several minutes he +strained at the controls before he cast a quick glance over the side. +His backward speed had accelerated and the ground was less than fifty +feet below him. It was too close for a parachute jump. + +"As slow as I'm falling, I won't crack much, anyway," he consoled +himself. He reached for his switch and the roar of the motors died +away in silence. The plane gave a sickening lurch backwards and down +for an instant. Purdy again leaned over the side. He was no longer +going either forward or back but was sinking slowly down. He looked at +the ground directly under him. A cry of horror came from his lips. He +sat back mopping his brow. Another glance over the side brought an +expression of terror to his white face and he reached for the heavy +automatic pistol which hung by the side of the control seat. + + * * * * * + +"He cleared Bellefonte at nine in the morning, Dr. Bird" said +Inspector Dolan of the Post Office Department, "and headed toward +Philipsburg. He never arrived. By ten we were alarmed and by eleven we +had planes out searching for him. They reported nothing. He must have +come to grief within a rather restricted area, so we sent search +parties out at once. That was two weeks ago yesterday. No trace of +either him or his plane has been found." + +"The flying conditions were good?" + +"Perfect. Also, Purdy is above suspicion. He has been flying the mail +on the western runs for three years. This is his first accident. He +was carrying nothing of unusual value." + +"Are there any local conditions unfavorable to flying?" + +"None at all. It is much uninhabited country, but there is no reason +why it shouldn't be safe country to fly over." + +"There are some damnably unfavorable local conditions, Doctor, +although I can't tell you what they are," broke in Operative Carnes of +the United States Secret Service. "Dick Purdy was rather more than an +acquaintance of mine. After he was lost I looked into the record of +that section a little. It is known among aviators as 'The Port of +Missing Planes.'" + +"How did it get a name like that?" + +"From the number of unexplained and unexplainable accidents that +happen right there. Dugan of the air mail, was lost there last May. +They found the mailbags where he had dropped them before he crashed, +but they never found a trace of him or his plane." + +"They didn't?" + +"Not a trace. The same thing happened when Mayfield cracked in August. +He made a jump and broke his neck in landing. He was found all right, +but his ship wasn't. Trierson of the army, dropped there and _his_ +plane was never found. Neither was he. He was seen to go down in a +forced landing. He was flying last in a formation. As soon as he went +down the other ships turned back and circled over the ground where he +should have fallen. They saw nothing. Search parties found no trace of +either him or his ship. Those are the best known cases, but I have +heard rumors of several private ships which have gone down in that +district and have never been seen or heard of since." + + * * * * * + +Dr. Bird sat forward with a glitter in his piercing black eyes. Carnes +gave a grunt of satisfaction. He knew the meaning of that glitter. The +Doctor's interest had been fully aroused. + +"Inspector Dolan," said Dr. Bird sharply, "why didn't you tell me +those things?" + +"Well, Doctor, we don't like to talk about mail wrecks any more than +we have to. Of course, the loss of so many planes in one area is +merely a coincidence. Probably the wrecked planes were stolen as +souvenirs. Such things happen, you know." + +"Fiddlesticks!" said Dr. Bird sharply. He raised one long slender hand +with beautifully modeled tapering fingers and threw back his unruly +mop of black hair. His square, almost rugged jaw, protruded and the +glitter in his eyes grew in intensity. "No souvenir hunting vandals +could cart away whole planes without leaving a trace. In that case, +what became of the bodies? No, Inspector, this has gone beyond the +range of coincidence. There is some mystery here and it needs looking +into. Fortunately, my work at the Bureau of Standards is in such shape +that I can safely leave it. I intend to devote my entire time to +clearing this matter up. The ramifications may run deeper than either +you or I suspect. Please have all of your records dealing with plane +disappearances or wrecks in that locality sent to my office at once." + +The Post Office inspector stiffened. + +"Of course, Dr. Bird," he said formally, "we are very glad to hear any +suggestion that you may care to offer. When it comes, however, to a +matter of surrendering control of a Post Office matter to the +Department of Commerce or to the Treasury Department, I doubt the +propriety. Our records are confidential ones and are not open to +everyone who is curious. I will inform the proper authorities of your +desire to help, but I doubt seriously if they will avail themselves of +your offer." + + * * * * * + +Dr. Bird's black eyes shot fire. "Idiot!" he said. "If you're a +specimen of the Post Office Department, I'll have the entire case +taken out of your hands. Do you mean to cooperate with me or not?" + +"I fail to see what interest the Bureau of Standards can have in the +affair." + +"The Bureau isn't mixed up in it; Dr. Bird is. If necessary, I will go +direct to the President. Oh, thunder! What's the use of talking to +you? Who's your chief?" + +"Chief Inspector Watkins is in charge of all investigations." + +"Carnes, get him on the telephone. Tell him we are taking charge of +the investigation. If he balks, have Bolton go over his head. Then get +the chief of the Air Corps on the wire and arrange for an army plane +to-morrow. There is something more than a mail robbery back of this or +I'm badly fooled." + +"Do you suspect--" + +"I suspect nothing and no one, Carnes--yet! I'll get a few instruments +together to take with us to-morrow. We'll fly over that section until +something happens if it takes us until this time next year." + + * * * * * + +A three-seated scout plane rose from Langley Field at eight the next +morning. Captain Garland was at the controls. In the rear cockpit sat +Dr. Bird and Carnes. Inside his flying helmet, the doctor wore a pair +of headphones which were connected to a box on the floor before him. +Carnes carried no apparatus but his hand rested carelessly on the grip +of a machine-gun. + +The plane cleared Bellefonte at nine-thirty and bore east toward +Philipsburg. Captain Garland kept his eyes on his instrument board and +on a map. Less than six hundred feet above the ground, he was +following the air-mail route as exactly as possible. Overhead a mail +plane winged its way east, three thousand feet above them. + +Fifteen minutes brought them to Philipsburg. Captain Garland shot his +plane upward a few hundred feet. + +"Turn back, Captain," said Dr. Bird into the speaking tube. "Retrace +your course a quarter of a mile farther north. At Bellefonte, turn +back and go over the same ground another quarter of a mile north. Keep +flying back and forth, working your way north, until I tell you to +stop." + +The plane swung around and headed back toward Bellefonte. + +"Of course, we can't tell exactly what route he followed," said the +doctor to Carnes, "but he was new on this run and it is safe to assume +that he didn't stray far. We'll quarter the whole area before we +stop." + +Carnes watched the ground below them carefully. There was nothing +about it to distinguish it from any other wooded mountainous country +and his interest waned. He glanced aloft. The mail plane had +disappeared in the distance and the sky was clear of aircraft. He +turned again to the ground. It looked closer than it had before. He +turned and looked at the duplicate altimeter. The plane had lost +nearly a hundred feet elevation. + + * * * * * + +"There's something wrong about this plane, Doctor," came Captain +Garland's voice through the speaking tube. "It doesn't behave like it +should." + +"I guess we've found what we were looking for, Carnes," said Dr. Bird +grimly. "What seems to be the matter, Captain?" + +"Blessed if I know," was the answer. "It feels like a drag of some +sort, like an automobile going through heavy sand. We're slowing down, +though I am giving her all the gun I've got!" + +"Cut your motor!" said the doctor shortly. He bent over the duplicate +instrument board as the roar of the motor died away. Carnes rose and +looked over the side. + +"Look, Doctor!" he cried in a strained voice. Directly below them +yawned a hole sixty feet in diameter and extending down into the +bowels of the earth. The plane hovered over the hole for a moment and +then slowly descended into it. + +"What is it?" cried the detective. + +"It's the secret of the Port of Missing Planes," replied Dr. Bird. +"Throw off your parachute. Keep your gun and light handy but don't +fire unless I do first. The same holds good for you, Captain." + +The plane sunk until it was fifty feet below the level of the ground. +Carnes looked up. Gradually the circle of sky became blurred and hazy +as though the air were heavy with dust. The rasp of Dr. Bird's +flashlight key aroused him and he hastily wound his own. The haze +above them grew thicker. Suddenly the light died and then came +darkness, a darkness so thick and absolute that it bore down on them +like a weight. Dr. Bird's light stabbed a path through it. + + * * * * * + +They were in a tunnel or tube reaching into the ground. The sides were +smooth and polished, as though water worn. The plane sank deeper and +deeper into the earth. Suddenly Dr. Bird's light went out. + +"What's the matter, Doctor?" asked Carnes, "did your light fail?" + +"No," came a strained voice. "I turned it out." + +"Why?" + +"I don't know. Light yours." + +Carnes reached into his pocket. Dr. Bird could hear his breath come in +panting sobs as though he were exerting his whole strength. + +"I can't do it, Doctor," he gasped. "I want to, but some power greater +than my will prevents me." + +"Are you affected, Captain?" asked the Doctor. + +"I--can't--move," came in muffled accents from the front cockpit. + +"Some power beyond my knowledge has us in its grasp," said the doctor. +"All we can do is sit tight and see what happens. We are no longer +falling at any rate." + +From the forward cockpit came a rustling sound. There was a slight jar +in the ship, and it gave as though a weight had been applied to one +side. + +"What are you doing, Garland?" asked the doctor sharply. + +There was no reply. Again came the rustling sound. The ship gave a +sudden lurch as though a weight had left the side. Carnes suddenly +spoke. + +"Good-by, Doctor," he said. "I'm going over the side." + +"I have been fighting it but I'm going myself in a minute," replied +the doctor grimly. "Something is pulling me over. It's the same power +that keeps me from turning on my light." + +"It's perfectly safe to go over," said Carnes suddenly. "The plane is +resting on a solid base." + +"I have the same feeling. Catch hold of my belt and let's go." + + * * * * * + +They climbed over the side of the plane and dropped to the ground. +Their descent made absolutely no sound. Dr. Bird stopped and felt the +floor. + +"Crepe rubber, or something of the sort," he murmured. "At any rate, +it's noise and vibration proof." + +"Now what?" asked Carnes. + +"This way," replied the doctor confidently. "I'm beginning to get the +hang of understanding this. The way is perfectly level and open before +us. Keep your hand on my shoulder and step right out." + +"How do you know where we're going?" + +"I don't, but something tells me that the road is level and open. It +is the same thing that brought us over the side. I can't explain it +but it is some sort of a telepathic control exerted by an +intelligence. Whether the sending mind is reinforced by instruments I +don't know, but I rather fancy not." + +"Where is Garland?" + +"He went off in another direction. I could feel the power that guided +him although it was not directed at us. Something tells me that he is +safe for the present." + +For half a mile they made their way through the darkness before they +stopped. This time Carnes could plainly understand the command which +came to both of them. + +"There is a table before us," said Dr. Bird. "Lay your flashlight and +pistol on it." + +Carnes struggled against the order but the power guiding him was +stronger than his will. He strove to turn on his light. When he could +not, he tried to cock his pistol. With a sigh, he laid his gun and +light on the table before him. Without words, the two men walked +forward a few feet and sat confidently down on a bench that something +told them was there. + + * * * * * + +For a moment they sat quietly. A cry, choked in the middle, came from +the detective's throat. Cold clammy hands touched his face. He strove +again to cry out, but his voice was paralyzed. The hands went +methodically over his body, evidently searching for weapons. Mustering +up his will, Carnes made a grab for one of them. His captor apparently +had no objection to the detective's action for Carnes seized the hand +without effort. But he almost dropped it. The hand was as large as a +ham. He reached for the other hand but could not locate it. A movement +on the part of his captor brought it to him and he made the startling +discovery that the palms were directed outward. The hand had only four +fingers, which were armed with long curved claws instead of nails. +Carnes ran his hand up the palm to search for a thumb but found none. +He found, however, that, while the hands were naked, the wrists were +covered with short thick fur. + +"Doctor!" he cried, "there's--" + +Again came the overpowering will and his speech died away in silence. +He sat dumb and motionless while his captor moved over to Dr. Bird. A +second animal came forward and felt the detective over. He was not +allowed to move this time, nor was he while a third and fourth animal +went carefully over him. The four drew back some distance. + +"Doctor," whispered Carnes as the influence grew fainter. + +"Shh!" was the answer, and as the doctor's demand for silence was +reinforced by another wave of the paralyzing power, Carnes had no +choice. As he sat there silent, the power which held him again seemed +to grow less. He found that he could move his arms slightly. He edged +forward to get his gun and light. Before he reached them, a beam of +light split the darkness. Dr. Bird stood, electric torch in hand, +staring before him. + +At a distance of a few feet stood a group of half a dozen animals +about the height of a man as they stood erect on their short hind +legs. They were covered with heavy brown fur. Their lower limbs were +thin and light, but their shoulders and forelegs were heavy and +powerful. Their forepaws, which had the palms facing outward, were +armed with the long wicked claws he had felt. No visible ears +protruded from the round skulls. Their heads appeared to rest between +their shoulders, so short were their necks. Their muzzles were long +and obtusely pointed. Through grinning jaws could be seen powerful +white teeth. + +"Talpidae!" cried Dr. Bird. "Carnes, they are a race of giant +intellectual moles!" + + * * * * * + +Despite the fact that they had no visible eyes, the creatures were +strongly affected by the light. They dropped on all fours and turned +their backs to the scientist and the detective. Two of them scurried +away down a long tunnel which opened from the room in which they +stood. Dr. Bird turned his light up and swept the room. It was +roughly circular, a hundred feet in diameter, with a roof ten feet +high. Dozens of tunnels led off in every direction. + +"Your light, Carnes, quick!" cried the doctor in a strained voice. +Carnes reached toward the table for his light. Before he could reach +it he was frozen into immobility. From the corner of his eye he could +watch the doctor. Dr. Bird was struggling to bring the light back on +the moles which stood before them. Great beads of sweat stood out on +his forehead. Inch by inch he moved the light closer to his goal, but +Carnes could see that his thumb was stealing up toward the switch +button. His breath came in sobs. Suddenly the light went out. + +For some time the two men sat motionless on the bench unable to speak +or move. One of the moles stepped before them and gave a mental +command. The two rose to their feet. For a mile or more they followed +their guide, then, at a silent command, they turned to the right for a +few steps and stopped. In another moment, the numbing influence had +departed. + +"Are you all right, Carnes?" + +"Yes, right as can be. Doctor, what were those things? Where are we? +What's it all about?" + +"We'll find out in time, I guess," replied the doctor with a chuckle. +"Carnes, isn't this the darnedest thing we've ever been through? +Captured half a mile underground by a race of giant talpidae before +whose mental orders we are as helpless as children. Did you understand +any of their talk?" + +"Talk? I didn't hear any." + +"Well, mental conversation then. They made no sound." + +"No. All I understood was the orders I obeyed." + + * * * * * + +"I got a great deal of it," the doctor said. "We are evidently in or +near a sort of central community of these fellows. They spoke; +thought is a better word; they thought of doing away with us but +decided to wait until they consulted someone with more authority. You +see, we are not airplane pilots. Captain Garland was taken at once to +the place where they have other aviators imprisoned." + +"What do they want of pilots underground?" + +"I couldn't quite get that. There was another thought that I am not +sure that I interpreted correctly. If I did, there is some man of the +upper world down here in a position of considerable authority among +them. He has some use for pilots, but what use, I don't know. We are +to be held until he is consulted." + +"Who could it be?" + +"I can only think of one man. Carnes, and I hope I'm wrong. I don't +have to name him." + +"You mean--?" + +"Ivan Saranoff. We haven't heard of him or had any activity from him +for the last eight months. We know that he had a subterranean borer +with which he has penetrated deep into the earth. Isn't it possible +that he has, at some time in his explorations, come into contact with +these fellows and made friends with them?" + +"It's possible, Doctor, but I hoped we had killed him when we +destroyed his borer." + +"So did I, but he seems to bear a charmed life. Several times we have +thought him dead, only to have him show up with some new form of +devil's work. It is too much to hope that we have succeeded in doing +away with him. Did you notice one thing? Those fellows were helpless +while I held the light on them. The one which was holding us captive +got so interested in the discussion about our fate that he momentarily +forgot us. That was when I got my light. Until I turned the light away +from them, we were free men." + + * * * * * + +"That's right," answered the secret service man. + +"Remember that. The next time we get a light on a bunch of them, hold +them in the beam until we can make terms." + +"If we ever get hold of a light again." + +"I have a light they didn't get, probably because I didn't think of it +while they were around. It is one of those fountain pen battery +affairs and they probably took it for a pen. I won't turn it on now, +partly to save it and partly not to let them know we have it. Let's +see what our prison is like." + +They felt their way around the room. It proved to be eight paces by +ten in size. Like the tunnels it was floored with crepe rubber or some +similar substance which gave out no sound of footsteps, yet was firm +underfoot. The room was furnished with two beds, a table and two +chairs. There was no sign of a door. + +"That's that," exclaimed the doctor when they had finished their +exploration. "I'm hungry. I wonder when we eat. Hello, here comes one +of the fellows now." + +Carnes made no reply. As the doctor's speech ended, a wave of mental +power enveloped the room. One of the moles entered, moved over to the +table for an instant and then left the room. An earthly odor of +vegetables pervaded the room. + +"My question is answered," said the doctor. "We eat now." + +He moved to the table. On it had been placed dishes containing three +different types of roots. Two of them proved to be palatable, but the +third was woody and bitter. The prisoners made a hearty meal from the +two they relished. For an hour they sat waiting. + +"Here they come again!" exclaimed the doctor. "We are going before the +person I spoke of. Can't you get their thoughts?" + +"No, I can't, Doctor. I can understand when I get a command, but aside +from those times everything is a blank to me." + +"My mental wave receiver, if that's what it is, must be attuned to a +different frequency than yours, for I can hear them talking to one +another. I guess I should say that I can feel them thinking to one +another. At any rate, they want us to follow. Come along, the road +will be open and level." + + * * * * * + +The doctor stepped out confidently with Carnes at his heels. For half +a mile they went forward. Presently they halted. + +"We are in a big chamber here, Carnes," whispered the doctor, "and +there is someone before us. We'll have some light in a minute." + +His prophecy was soon fulfilled. A vague glimmer of light began to +fill the cavern in which they stood. As it grew stronger they could +see a raised dais before them on which were seated three figures. Two +of them were the giant moles. Each of the moles wore a helmet which +covered his head completely, with no sign of lenses or other means of +vision. It was the central figure, however, which held the attention +of the prisoners. + +Seated on a chair and regarding, them with an expression of sardonic +amusement was a man. Above a high forehead rose a thin scrub of white +hair. Keen brown eyes peered at them from under almost hairless brows. +The nose was high bridged and aquiline and went well with his +prominent cheekbones. His mouth was a mere gash below his nose, framed +by thin bloodless lips. The lips were curled in a sneer, revealing +yellow teeth. The whole expression of the face was one of revolting +cruelty. + +"So," said the figure slowly, "fate has been kind to me. My friends, +Dr. Bird and Operative Carnes have chosen to pay me a long visit. I +am greatly flattered." + +The thin metallic voice with its noticeable accent struck a familiar +chord. + +"Saranoff!" gasped Carnes. + +"Yes, Mr. Carnes, Saranoff. Professor Ivan Saranoff, of the faculty of +St. Petersburg once. Now merely Saranoff, the scourge of the +bourgeois." + + * * * * * + +"I hoped we had killed you," murmured Carnes. + +"It was no fault of Dr. Bird's that he failed," replied the Russian +with an excess of malevolence in his voice. "His method was a correct +one. Merely the fortuitous fact that we had just pierced one of the +tunnels of the Selom, and I was away from my borer exploring it, saved +me. You did me a good turn, Doctor, without meaning to. You destroyed +an instrument on which I had relied. In doing so, you unwittingly +delivered into my hands a power greater than any I had dreamed of--the +Selom." + +"What can a mental cripple like you do with blind allies like them?" +asked Dr. Bird with a contemptuous laugh. The Russian half rose from +his seat in rage. For a moment his hand toyed with a switch before +him. The sardonic sneer came back into his face and he dropped back +into his seat. + +"You nearly provoked me to destroy you, Doctor," he said, "but cold +calculation saved you. Since you will never return to the upper world, +save when and as I decree, I have no objection to telling you. The +Selom are not blind. Their eyes are under the skin as is the case with +many of the talpidae, but for all that they can see very well. Their +eyes function on a shorter wave than ours, a wave so short that it +readily penetrates through miles of earth and rock. This cavern is now +flooded with it. Visible light, the light by which we see, is limited +to their eyes, hence the helmets which you see. They can see through +those helmets as well as you or I can see through air." + +"What do you intend to do with us?" + +"Ah, Doctor, there you hit me in a tender spot. I have a sore +temptation to close this switch on which my hand rests. Were I to do +so, both you and Mr. Carnes would vanish forevermore. I have, however, +conceived a very real affection for you two. Your brains, Doctor, +working in my behalf instead of against me would render me well-nigh +omnipotent. Mr. Carnes has a certain low cunning which I can also use +to advantage. Both of you will join me." + + * * * * * + +"You might as well close your switch and save your breath, Saranoff, +for we will do nothing of the sort," replied the doctor sharply. + +"Ah, but you will. So will Mr. Carnes. I had no hopes that you would +join me willingly. In fact, I am pleased that you do not. I could +never trust you. All the same, you will join my forces as have the +others whom I have brought into the hands of the Selom. I have ways of +accomplishing my desires. It pleases my fancy, Doctor, to use your +brains in aiding me in my scientific developments. You will enjoy +working with the scientists of the Selom. Among them you will find +brains which excel any to be found on the surface of the earth, since +we two are below. Already I have learned much from them. You, Mr. +Carnes shall be taught to pilot an airplane. When my cohorts go forth +from the realms of the Selom to establish the rule of Russia, you will +be piloting one of the planes. Your first task will be to learn to +fly." + +"I refuse to do anything of the sort!" said Carnes. + +"I will not be ready to have your flying lessons started until +to-morrow," replied the Russian, "and you will have until then to +reconsider your rash decision. It will be much easier for you if you +obey my orders. If you still refuse to-morrow, you will pay a visit to +the laboratory of the Selom. When you return your lessons will be +started. You will now be taken to your cell. I have use for Dr. Bird +this afternoon." + +"I won't leave Dr. Bird and that's flat!" exclaimed Carnes. Dr. Bird +interrupted him. + +"Go ahead, Carnesy, old dear," he said lightly. "You might just as +well toddle along under your own power as to be dragged along. You +have a day for reflection, in any event. I daresay I'll see you again +before they do anything to you." + +Carnes glanced keenly at the doctor's face. What he saw evidently +reassured him for he turned without a word and walked away. The light +grew gradually dimmer until darkness again reigned in the cavern. + +"Come, Doctor," said Saranoff's voice. "We have work to do." + + * * * * * + +Carnes sat alone in his cell for hours. The darkness and loneliness +wore on him until he felt that his nerves would crack. Not a sound +came to him. He threw himself on one of the beds and plugged his ears +with his finger tips in an attempt to keep the silence out. Then a +cheerful voice sounded in the cell and a friendly hand fell on his +shoulder. + +"Well, Carnesy, old dear," said Dr. Bird, "have you been lonesome?" + +"Dr. Bird!" gasped Carnes in tones of relief. "Are you all right?" + +"Right as can be. I learned a lot this afternoon. For one thing, +you're going to start flying lessons to-morrow and you're going to do +your best to become an expert pilot in a short time. It is the only +thing to do." + +"And fly a plane for Saranoff?" + +"I hope not. The only way to avoid that very thing is to keep your +mentality unimpaired so that I can call on you for help when I need +it. If the Selom operate on you, you will be useless to me." + +"Operate? What do you mean?" + +"I'll tell you. The Selom are a very old and highly civilized people. +For ages they have possessed scientific knowledge for which the +upper-world scientists are now blindly groping. Among other things, +they have a perfect knowledge of the workings of the brain. If they +operate they will remove from your brain every speck of memory you +have of past events, leaving only those things that will be useful to +Saranoff. You will be his complete slave. In that condition you will +be taught to fly a plane. When the time comes, you will fly one with +no remembrance of anything which happened prior to the operation and +with no will but his. It will be easier to teach you flying in your +natural state if you are willing. You will be willing." + +"If you wish it, Doctor." + + * * * * * + +"I do wish it, most decidedly," Dr. Bird went on. "Obey every order +they give you. You will find that the Selom are an enlightened and +civilized race. They are very kindly and would willingly harm no one." + +"Then why have they taken up with Saranoff?" + +"He is the first man with whom they have come into contact. He has +told them a horrible tale of conditions on the surface, and they have +swallowed it, hook, line and sinker. They believe that he is going to +establish a new order of happiness and plenty for all with the aid of +his gang of cutthroats from Russia. If they had the slightest inkling +of the true state of affairs, they would turn on him in an instant." + +"Why don't you tell them?" + +"Remember that I am a stranger here and he has poisoned their minds +against me. Although the mind of an ordinary men is an open book to +them, they cannot read Saranoff's secret thoughts against his will. +They can't read mine either, for that matter. I am working in the +laboratory and I will pick up a great deal. When the time comes, we +will strike for our liberty and for the safety of the world." + +"Did you learn Saranoff's plans?" + +"Yes. He is gathering planes and pilots in the underground caverns of +the Selom. When he gets enough, he will bring men from Russia to man +the planes. What could the United States, or the world for that +matter, do against a fleet of hundreds, possibly thousands, of the +best planes equipped with deadly weapons unknown to their science? +That menace confronts us and we must remove it. To give you some idea +of the power of the Selom, this afternoon Saranoff and I with one +assistant opened a cavern in the solid rock three miles long and a +mile wide and over six hundred feet in height." + +"Three men! How on earth did you do it?" + +"Two men and one mole. We did it with a ray, the secret of which only +the Selom and Saranoff know." + + * * * * * + +"You have told me a disintegrating ray is an impossibility," objected +Carnes. + +"It is. This was not a disintegrating ray. Carnes, either I am crazy +or the Selom have solved the secret of time, the fourth dimension. I +haven't been able to grasp the whole thing yet. What I think we did +was to remove that rock a distance, perhaps only a millionth of a +second, forward or back into time. At any rate it ceased to exist, yet +they can bring it back unchanged at will. That was the way they +captured our plane. They sent out a magnetic ray of such power that it +stopped our plane in midair and brought it to the ground. They +removed the rock from beneath us and lowered us into the hole. By +reversing the process they restored things to their original +condition. All of these tunnels and rooms were made in that way." + +"I still don't understand how they did it." + +"I don't either, but I hope to in time. Now let's go to bed. It's +late. To-morrow you will start your lessons with Captain Garland as an +instructor. He won't know you for he was operated on this afternoon. +Do your best to become a pilot. When I get ready, I want you with me +in full possession of all your faculties." + +The next morning the two prisoners separated and went to their duties. +In the cavern which Dr. Bird had described, Captain Garland was +waiting beside the plane he had flown. He did not know Carnes, but he +still knew how to fly. Declining to enter into any conversation, he +started expounding the theory of flying to the detective. Carnes +remembered Dr. Bird's words and applied himself wholeheartedly. For +four hours they worked together. At the end of that time the light +faded in the cavern and Carnes was led by an unseen guide back to his +cell. He threw himself on a bed and awaited Dr. Bird's return. + +"I have learned a few more things about the Selom," said the doctor +when he entered the cell several hours later. "We are in their largest +community. They have cities or warrens scattered all over the world. +Each city has its own ruler, but the whole race are ruled by an +overlord or king who habitually lives here. He is away visiting a +community under northern Africa just now, but he will be back in a few +days. The Selom are sincere in their desire to help the upper world. +They feel great pity for mankind in view of the conditions Saranoff +has described to them. When the king returns. I plan to make a direct +appeal to him. In the meantime, go on with your flying lessons. How +did you make out to-day?" + + * * * * * + +The second day was a repetition of the first, as were the third and +fourth. A week passed before Dr. Bird entered the cell in evident +excitement. + +"Has Hanac brought our evening food yet?" he asked anxiously. + +"No, Doctor." + +"Good. Take this light. As soon as he enters throw the light full on +him and hold him until I work on him. We've got to make our escape." + +"Why?" + +"The king is due back to-morrow. Saranoff is frightened at the good +impression I have made on the Selom. He is supreme in the monarch's +absence, so he plans to operate on both of us before he returns. He is +afraid to allow me to see the king with an unimpaired intellect and +memory. Shh! Here comes Hanac." The door to their cell opened +noiselessly. When the mole who brought their food was well inside, +Carnes turned on the tiny flashlight. The mole dropped on all fours +and tried to turn its back. Dr. Bird sprang forward. For an instant +his slim muscular fingers worked on the mole's neck and shoulders. +Silently the animal sank in a heap. + +"Come on, Carnes," cried the doctor. "Turn off the light." + +"Did you kill him, Doctor?" asked Carnes as he raced down a pitch dark +corridor at the scientist's heels. + +"No, I merely paralyzed him temporarily. He'll be all right in a day +or so. Turn here." + + * * * * * + +For ten minutes they ran down corridor after corridor. Carnes soon +lost all track of direction, but Dr. Bird never hesitated. Presently +he slowed down to a walk. + +"It's a good thing I have a good memory," he said. "I planned that +course out from a map, and I had to memorize every turn and distance +of it. We are now behind your flying hall and away from any of the +regular dwellings of the Selom. Straight west about four miles is one +of the time-ray machines with a guard over it. Aside from them, there +isn't a mole between here and Detroit." + +"What are we going to do, Doctor?" + +"Keep out of their way and avoid recapture if we can. If we merely +wanted to escape we would try to get possession of that time-ray +machine and open a road to the surface. However, I am not content with +that. I want to stay underground until Astok, their king, returns. +When he comes, we will surrender to him." + +"Suppose they operate without giving us a chance to present our side +of the affair." + +"If they do, Saranoff wins; but they won't. The more I have seen of +the Selom, the more impressed I am by their sense of justice. They'll +give us a hearing, all right, and a fair one." + +For two hours the doctor led the way. At the end of that time he +stopped. + +"We've gone as far as we need to," he said. "They'll undoubtedly send +out searching parties, but if we can avoid thinking they won't be able +to find us. The tunnels are a perfect labyrinth. If you care to sleep, +go to it. We'll be safer sleeping than awake, for we won't be sending +out thoughts so fast." + + * * * * * + +Dr. Bird threw himself down on the rubber floor of the tunnel and was +soon asleep. Carnes tried to follow his example, but sleep would not +come to him. Frantically he tried to think of nothing. By an effort he +would sit for a few minutes with his mind a conscious blank, but +thoughts would throng in in spite of him. Time and again he brought +himself up with a jerk and forced his mind to become a blank. The +hours passed slowly. Carnes grew cramped from long immobility and +rose. A sudden thought intruded itself into his mind. "I might as well +throw that light away," he murmured to himself. "It will be no good +now. The Selom won't hurt us if they do catch us." + +He reached in his pocket for the light. He was about to hurl it from +him when a moment of sanity came to him. He stared about. The impulse +to hurl the light away came stronger. He strove in vain to turn it on. + +"Doctor!" he cried suddenly. "Wake up! They're after us!" + +With a bound, Dr. Bird was on his feet. + +"The light!" he cried. "Where is it?" + +"In--my--hand," murmured Carnes with stiffening lips. + +Dr. Bird seized the light. A beam stabbed the darkness. Less than +fifty feet from them stood two moles. As the light flashed on Carnes +regained control of himself. + +"Take the light, Carnes," snapped the doctor. "I've got to put these +fellows to sleep." + +Slowly he advanced toward the motionless Selom. He had almost reached +them when the light flickered out. He turned and raced at full speed +toward the detective. Carnes was standing rigid and motionless. Dr. +Bird took the light from his hand. Despite the almost overpowering +drag on his mind, he managed to turn it on. He swung the beam around +in a circle. Besides the two Selom he had seen before, the light +revealed a pair standing behind him. As the light struck them, the +numbing influence vanished for an instant from the doctor's mind. He +moved a step forward and then halted. The moles behind him were +hurling waves of mental power at him. Again the light cleared him for +an instant, but he got a brief glance of other moles hurrying from +every direction. + +"The jig's up, I guess," he muttered. He strove to free himself by the +use of his light, but the tiny battery had done its duty, and +gradually the light grew dimmer. The influence grew too strong for +him. With a sigh he shut off the feeble ray and hurled the light from +him. The moles closed in. + +"All right," said the doctor audibly. "We'll go peaceably." + + * * * * * + +As he spoke the paralyzing power was withdrawn. With Carnes at his +side he retraced the route he had taken from the cell. Before they +reached it they turned off. Dr. Bird realized that they were treading +the familiar path to the laboratory. + +Outside the laboratory the Selom halted. A wave of mental power +enveloped the prisoners and they remained silent and motionless while +their escort withdrew. From the laboratory came three of the Selom +scientists. As the laboratory door opened they could see that it was +bathed in a flood of light, and that the moles wore helmets covering +their heads. They moved inside. Clad in a white gown stood Saranoff. + +"So, my friends, you would run away and leave me, would you?" gloated +the Russian. "And just when I had planned a very beneficial operation +for you! I will remove permanently from your brains all the delusions +which now encumber them, and for your own puny wills I will substitute +my own." + +The power which had held the prisoners silent disappeared. + +"You have caught us, Saranoff," said Dr. Bird. "I know the power you +wield and that you are making no idle boast. I appeal, however, to +these others, my friends. The operation you are planning to perform +is not a routine one. It is one that should have the sanction of the +king before it is done. I appeal from you to him." + +"He is far away," laughed Saranoff. "When he returns, your plea will +be presented to him, but it will be too late to do you any good. You +are right, Doctor--I do not plan a mere routine operation. Not only +will I remove your memory, but I'm going to use the time-ray on you +and banish forever into the unknown a portion of your brains. Without +knowing which adjustment I make of the infinite number possible, no +one, not even the king, can ever recall it." + + * * * * * + +Dr. Bird turned to the Selom scientists and hurled his thoughts at +them. + +"This man intends to commit a horrible crime," he thought, "and one +which he has no authority to perform. To you I appeal for justice. Bid +him wait until Astok returns, and let him be the judge as to whether +it shall be done. Jumor, you know me well. You know that my brain is +the equal of one of the Selom. Even you cannot read my thoughts +against my will. Are you willing to see that brain destroyed? Astok +will be here soon and nothing will be lost by a short delay." + +"He thinks truly," was the answering thought of Jumor. "It would be +better to wait." + +"We will not wait," crashed Saranoff's thought into their +consciousness. "He killed Hanac when he escaped, and his punishment +shall be as I have decreed. Did not the king give me full power while +he was away?" + +"It is true that he ordered us to obey this man in all things dealing +with upper-world men," thought Jumor. "If it is true that he killed +Hanac his punishment is doubtless just." + +"I did not kill Hanac," returned the doctor. "He is paralyzed and will +be all right in a few hours, if he isn't already. I demand that you +wait until Astok returns. When an appeal is made to him, no other may +judge. So says the Selom law." + +"That is true," replied Jumor. "We will wait until the king returns." + +"We will _not_ wait," came Saranoff's thought. "The king delegated to +me his powers during his absence, as far as all the world, save the +Selom, were concerned. Were it one of the Selom appealing to the king, +I would be powerless before the appeal. These are not bound by Selom +law and are not entitled to its benefits. We will operate at once." + +"Then you will operate alone," retorted Jumor. "I will not assist +you." + +"I need none of your help," thought Saranoff. "Asmo and Camol, will +you help me? If you refuse I will report to Astok that you have +disobeyed and defied his chosen delegate." + +"We had better assist him, Jumor," thought Asmo. "Astok did delegate +his authority. I am not of the nobility and I dare not refuse to +help." + +"Suit yourself, Asmo," replied Jumor. "I refuse to assist, and will +appeal to Astok against him." + + * * * * * + +The third mole hesitated. + +"You are higher in rank than we are, Jumor," he thought at length, +"and like Asmo, I dare not resist him. I heard the king give this +upper-earth man his authority while he was away. I will assist." + +"And I will leave the room," retorted Jumor. + +He moved to a door and threw it open. At the threshold he paused and +sent back a final thought. + +"I will appeal to Astok, our ruler. I will send now a message to him +to hurry home that he may judge between us." + +The door closed behind him. Saranoff chuckled audibly. + +"Good-by, Carnes," said Dr. Bird sadly. "This devil can do all he says +he can, and more. I'm sorry I brought you and Garland into this mess." + +"Oh, well, it can't be helped, Doctor," replied the detective with an +attempt at cheerfulness. "What is he going to do to us?" + +"He'll have to use instruments for what he plans," said the doctor. +"Ordinarily a routine mental operation is performed without the use of +extraneous power. The mind of the operator is electrically connected +to the mind of the victim. By means of thought waves the operator +banishes from the mind of the subject such portions of his memory and +mentality as he chooses. He may then substitute other things in place +of what he has removed. Any of the Selom could operate on you, but I +doubt whether Jumor himself could do it successfully on me without aid +from power. Here come the instruments." + + * * * * * + +Asmo and Camol took from a cabinet on the side of the wall what looked +like a cloth helmet. Attached to it were a dozen wires which they +connected to a box on a table. The box was made of crystal and inside +it could be seen a number of vacuum tubes and coils of various +designs. Other leads ran to a similar helmet which Asmo placed on +Saranoff's head. A heavy cable ran to a switch on the wall. + +As Camol closed the switch the tubes in the box began to glow with +weird lights. Violet, green and orange streamers of light came from +them to dance in wild patterns on the laboratory walls. For five +minutes Saranoff made adjustments to dials on the front of the crystal +box. The colored lights died away and a gentle golden glow came from +the apparatus. He threw off the helmet. + +Camol left the laboratory and returned with a large coil on the top +of which was mounted a parabolic reflector. A device like a clock on +the front of the coil was constantly marking the passage of time. The +dial had two indicators which were together. Saranoff chuckled. + +"You may not have seen this device work, Doctor," he said. "In order +to let you know what you are facing, I will demonstrate." + +He turned the reflector so that it bore on the wall. He adjusted the +moving dial so that the two indicators were no longer together. As he +closed a switch, the wall before the reflector vanished. Saranoff +turned off the power. + +"That portion of the wall has gone back in time exactly three +seconds," he announced. "As far as the present is concerned, it has +ceased to exist. It is following us through time three seconds behind +us, but in all eternity it will never catch up unless I aid it. Since +the exact time is known, it can be restored. If I were to alter this +adjustment ever so little, it could never be recalled. Watch me." + + * * * * * + +He again closed the switch, this time in a reverse direction. The wall +instantly filled up as it had been before. He moved the time dial so +that the two indicators coincided. + +"After I have sent a portion of your physical brain into the past or +the future as the fancy strikes me, I will change the adjustment of +that dial. Since there are an infinite number of adjustments to which +I might have set it, the chances that any one could ever duplicate my +setting and restore it are the complement of infinity, or zero," he +said. "I am now ready to remove your memory. If the impossible should +happen and your physical brain be restored it would be useless. Asmo, +adjust the helmet. I will operate on my friend, the Doctor, first." + +Carnes strove to rush to Dr. Bird's assistance, but he was helpless +before the force of Camol's will. Asmo adjusted the helmet to Dr. +Bird's head and buckled it firmly in place. With an evil grin, +Saranoff donned the other helmet. + +"Good-by, Dr. Bird," he said mockingly. "You will continue to see me, +but you won't know me, except as your master." + + * * * * * + +His hand reached for the switch. It had almost closed on it when +Saranoff stopped convulsively. He sat motionless while the laboratory +door opened and Jumor entered the room. He was followed by another +mole. The newcomer was fully six inches taller than the others. His +head was hidden by a helmet, but around his arms he wore strings of +sparkling jewels. + +"Ivan Saranoff, what means this?" his powerful thoughts dominated the +room. + +"I was merely engaged in rectifying some of the mental errors of this +man of the upper earth," explained the Russian eagerly. "It is merely +a routine operation such as you gave me authority to perform." + +"An operation which uses power is not routine," replied the king. "I +am told that this upper-earth man has a brain equal to those of my +most advanced scientist. I am also told that you planned to do more +than rectify his mental errors." + +"You have been falsely informed. I was merely about to adjust his +memory." + +"Then what means this?" The king pointed to the time-ray machine. + +"That was brought here in order that it could be used when you +returned," thought the Russian eagerly. "This upper-earth man killed +Hanac when he brought him food." + +The door opened and Hanac entered. + +"Oh, Astok," objected Hanac's thoughts, "when these upper-earth men +had me at their mercy, with a light, they spared me. They paralyzed me +for a time so that they might escape but they did it in such a manner +that no harm came to me." + +"So Jumor told me," replied the king. "Release them." + + * * * * * + +In an instant Carnes was on his feet removing the helmet from Dr. +Bird's head. The doctor struggled to his feet. + +"Dr. Bird," thought the king, "can you communicate with me easily?" + +"Yes, Your Majesty, but may I ask that you alter the vibration period +of my comrade, Mr. Carnes? He cannot understand you with his present +low period." + +The king stepped to the box with which Saranoff had been working. In +response to his commands the helmet which had been on Dr. Bird's head +was placed on the detective. The king made a few adjustments to the +dials and signalled for the helmet to be removed. + +"Can you understand me, Mr. Carnes?" he asked mentally. + +The question leaped with startling clearness into the detective's +head. Carefully he framed his answer. + +"I can understand you," said the king. "I will now sit in judgment on +the appeal made to me. Dr. Bird tell me your story." + +With eloquent thoughts, Dr. Bird poured forth the history of the upper +world. He told of the great war and the collapse of the Russian +monarchy. He traced history to the fall of the moderate party and the +rise of the Bolsheviki. He described the horrible conditions existing +in Russia. At the end he reviewed the long battle he and Carnes had +fought against Saranoff. When he had finished, the king questioned +Carnes. + +The detective repeated the story in different words and the king +turned to Saranoff. From the Russian's mind came a tissue of distorted +facts and downright lies. He denied or twisted around everything that +the detective and the scientist had said. When he had done with his +tale, Astok sat in secret thought for a few minutes. + +"The tales you tell me are so far apart that I can give credence to +none of them," he announced at length. "There is but one solution. +Although they are never used, for the Selom have forgotten the meaning +of a falsehood, we have instruments which will drag the truth from the +brain of a liar. They are powerful and their use may easily be fatal. +If a man gives forth the contents of his brain willingly, the process +is not painful. If he tries to conceal anything, it is torture. Will +you willingly submit your brains to the searching of this instrument?" + +"Gladly," came Dr. Bird's thought and Carnes reechoed it. + +"And you, Ivan Saranoff?" demanded the king. + +"I will not submit," thought the Russian sullenly. + +"You will be examined whether you submit willingly or not," replied +Astok. "I am going to learn the truth though I kill you all to get +it." + + * * * * * + +At the king's order, Jumor hastened from the laboratory. He returned +in a few minutes with an apparatus similar to the one which Saranoff +had planned to use on Dr. Bird, but larger, and with more dials on the +crystal box. At a command from the king, Dr. Bird donned the helmet. + +The king manipulated switches and dials. Around Dr. Bird's head glowed +a halo of crimson light. Twice an expression of momentary pain passed +over his countenance. After half an hour, Astok cut on the power and +nodded to Carnes. + +"Don't try to hold anything back, Carnesy," said Dr. Bird sharply. +"You couldn't if you tried, and the process is very painful, I can +assure you." + +With the helmet on his head the detective sat for ten minutes while +the Selom king went through his brain. A dozen times he shrieked in +agony but his moments of suffering were short. The king removed the +helmet. + +"Your minds agree well," he thought. "Now I will examine the mind of +my friend." + +The helmet was strapped on Saranoff. Instantly an expression of the +utmost anguish crossed his face. Shriek after shriek of agony came +from his writhing lips. Relentlessly the king applied more power. The +cries of the Russian grew heartrending. Suddenly he grew rigid and +slumped forward in his chair. Astok impassively manipulated his +instrument. After half an hour, he opened the switch and removed the +helmet. Under the ministrations of Jumor the Russian revived. The king +sat in secret thought for an hour. + +"I have examined the brains of all of you," he announced at length, +"and I find hopeless contradictions. Each of you believes thoroughly +in his own social order. Both tell me of hopeless misery on the part +of a large portion of his people. Both tell of horrible wars and +suffering beyond my comprehension. The thoughts of all of you teem +with modes of bringing death to your fellow beings. Your entire +science his been perverted to the ends of destruction. Nothing of the +sort can be realized by the Selom where truth, justice and mercy +prevail. Each of you holds that his form of government is better than +the other, and will cause less suffering and misery than the others'. +None of you hold out hope of happiness for your fellow beings. I do +not know which system is less obnoxious. My decision is made. The +Selom will not interfere in the affairs of the upper-earth. You may +fight out your battles without aid and without interference. + +"I will operate on both Ivan Saranoff and Dr. Bird. I will remove from +their minds all knowledge of our science and instruments and leave +them in the same condition that they were when they entered my realms. +Each of you will then be returned to upper-earth, Ivan Saranoff to +Russia, Dr. Bird and Mr. Carnes to the United States. The pilots, whom +I hold prisoners, will have their mentalities restored and be returned +to their homes. The planes we have captured, I will send off into time +so that they can never be used for the misery of upper-earth men +again. Jumor, you will carry out these orders." + + * * * * * + +"I wish I could remember how that time machine was built and +operated," said Dr. Bird reflectively, as he sat in his private +laboratory in the Bureau of Standards some time later, "but Jumor did +his work well. I can't even remember what the thing looked like." + +"Well, Doctor, our trip below wasn't a loss. We removed a very real +menace to the established order of things and we have got rid of +Saranoff temporarily. It will take him some time to return here from +Russia." + +"Three weeks or less," said Dr. Bird pessimistically. "However, we +have gained one other thing. Did you notice this?" + +He pulled what looked like a watch from his pocket. Carnes regarded it +with a puzzled expression. + +"No, Doctor, what is it?" + +"It is a very small camera which takes pictures one-half inch by +seven-eighths. I had several opportunities to use it. I wasn't sure +that it would work on such short waves, but it did. When Saranoff +tries to return to this country, he will find that every immigration +inspector and every member of the border patrol has an excellent +likeness of him. That may hinder his entrance into the country for a +little while." + + +A CLASSIFICATION OF THE UNIVERSE + + +A classification of everything in the universe, from the smallest +thing yet measured, the electron, less than a millionth of a millionth +of an inch in extent, to the biggest, a star system of a thousand +million trillion miles, was described recently by Prof. Harlow Shapley +of Harvard in a lecture at the commerce center of the College of the +City of New York. + +Looking forward to a time when man will be able to measure even +smaller things than the electron and larger than the greatest star +system, Prof. Shapley explained that he had left the classification +"open at both ends." + +Man, Prof. Shapley said, occupies a very small place in all this +system, although, beside an electron or an atom, he is not so +negligible, at that. + +"The survey," it was explained, "aims toward giving perspective. It +gives a sane and modest view of man's place in the scheme. + +"The significance of the classification lies in the skeleton which is +afforded all science to bring some measure of order out of the world's +present chaotic knowledge of the systems of various kinds. + +"All systems find a place in this synthesis--atoms, comets and +galaxies; man, radiation and the space-time complex. When looked at in +this objective way, human beings, and all associated terrestrial +organisms, appear only parenthetically in one of the subdivisions of +the class of colloidal aggregates." + +Prof. Shapley discussed the concept of the cosmoplasma. + +"This," it was explained, "is at once the most mysterious and +fundamental part of the universe, and only recently has come under +direct experimental study. In brief, it is the substratum of materials +throughout the universe, between planets, stars and the galaxies. + +"It has no obvious systematic organization. Hence it includes such +diverse constituents as the high speed shooting stars, interstellar +calcium gas and radiation itself. + +"Though no one has even seen an electron, the smallest thing included +in the classification, they have been proved to exist in several ways. +They give forth flashes of light that can be photographed. They have +caused the bending of X-rays as they pass through a substance." + + + + +[Illustration: The Readers' Corner + +_A Meeting Place for Readers of_ Astounding Stories] + + +_Likes the "Corner"_ + + Dear Editor: + + This month's issue, May, has the best collection of letters + you've ever published. All it lacked was a letter from + Bernard J. Kenton, that master of epistles and super-science + stories. One of your Readers would like to have "The + Readers' Corner" omitted. For heaven's sake, don't take it + out! I recognize it as one of the best features of our mag, + and whenever I open the covers, turn to it directly after + having glimpsed the table of contents and the announcement + of the stories to appear in the forthcoming issue. + + Mr. Joseph R. Barnes--whose letter I enjoyed immensely, + incidentally--will be interested in knowing that "The Mascot + Deep" is already in book form and that "The Disintegration + Machine" and "When the World Screamed," all by the same + author, are under the same covers. He also will be + interested in learning that Ray Cummings' fine story, "Sea + Girl," is also between hard covers. + + The idea of putting out a quarterly is a dandy. The other + science fiction quarterlies are mere text-books; there are, + occasionally, of course, a few exceptions. The thought of + the sort of fantastic action stories Astounding Stories + publishes, put together in a magazine doubly thick, is a + pleasing one to contemplate. Reading a story the length of + "Brigands of the Moon" and of such literary merit, complete + in one issue, is a thrill to be looked forward to. By all + means put out such a magazine and have stories by Jack + Williamson, R. F. Starzl and Edmond Hamilton, three of your + best writers, in the first issue. + + I'm glad to see that Starzl is coming back with the next + issue. More from him, please. And Hamilton and Williamson + should appear more frequently, too. + + A question, Mr. Cummings: Shades of Polter and Tugh!--why + must you always have a deformed character in your stories? + Do they appeal to your dramatic sense? + + The news that we're going to have a story from Francis Flagg + brings raptures of delight to my homely face. If it's a + dimensional story, I'll cheer twice. When it comes to + writing that kind of a story, Flagg's the king of them all. + For sheer interest and originality, he's got his + contemporaries in that field outdistanced with a distance + that can only be counted by light-years. + + A pat on the back for Booth Cody and Sears Langwell, two + staunch supporters. + + All our magazine needs is a story about time crusaders, or a + planet of mechanical men. + + Omitting the authors already mentioned, I considered my + favorites to be Rousseau, Eshbach, Diffin, Ernst, and Hal K. + Wells. + + The best story you ever published? Who am I to answer? Why + not put it up to the Readers for popular vote?--Jerome + Siegel, 10522 Kimberley Ave., Cleveland, Ohio. + + +_Explanation Wanted_ + + Dear Editor: + + This is my first letter to you, but I am a consistent Reader + of Astounding Stories, and look forward to all of the coming + issues. I have in mind a question, a friendly one, not one + that I expect to or hope will seem to be trying to dampen + any theories. This rocket-ship propulsion: as I understand + it, there is a void between all planets, etc. If this is the + case, how then can a rocket-propelled space ship go across + this void? Since the exhaust of the rockets must rely on + some material of a sort, or rather some sort of resistance + to push the ship along, how does it push on nothing? Of + course, near Earth it has the ground and then the atmosphere + to push from, but out in the void, why not cut off and save + fuel, therefore saving an extra heavy load of explosives, if + rocket-ships were really practical in space flying? Yours + for a thicker Astounding Stories--H. M. Crowson, Jr., + Sumter, S. C. + + +_Better Than Love Stories_ + + Dear Editor: + + I have started to read the Astounding Stories and enjoy it + very much, although I do not find very many girls writing in + to the "Corner." This mag is a thousand times better than + all those love story magazines, and besides these stories + are educational. + + I would rather read Astounding Stories than eat. They are + not too scientific to be boresome, but they are just good + enough to be real interesting. + + I wish you would publish some more stories like "The Lake of + Light," "Dark Moon," etc. I especially like stories of the + future and interplanetary novels. + + Anyone wishing to correspond with me will be welcome, as I + love to write letters, and especially to anyone interested + in the same things that I am.--(Miss) Bernice Goldberg, 147 + Crescent Drive, Mason City, Iowa. + + +_Kidding the Editor_ + + Dear Editor: + + I have just finished your January, 1932, issue of Astounding + Stories. It was superb. + + Imagine my delight and surprise when I purchased the first + issue this year! Smooth edges! Good quality of paper! I had + a few other articles to purchase but I forgot all about + them when I saw your magazine and rushed home to read it. + + It had a most admirable cover design by your best artist, H. + W. Wesso. I turned to the Contents Page. The first story was + by my favorite author, Ray Cummings, and called "The Space + Car to Mars." Hot dog! My favorite theme, interplanetary + travel. + + All the rest of the Authors were my favorites too! Edmond + Hamilton, Capt. S. P. Meek, S. P. Wright, A. J. Burks and a + short story by Jack Williamson. + + I turned to the next page and lo and behold, what do I see + but an editorial. Wonders after wonders! It was called "The + Possibilities of Space Travel." I was by this time beginning + to think that at last the Editor had achieved a perfect + magazine, and when I turned to the first story, the one by + Ray Cummings, I knew it. There was a double-page + illustration by Wesso in soft and realistic _colors_! Think + of it! _Colored_ illustrations for each story! + + Well, I was so excited that I could hardly read, but at last + I began. Boy, can Ray Cummings write interplanetary stories! + Y como! (And how!) He wove scientific explanations into the + story so very skillfully that one learned the scientific + facts without knowing it. When he thought that the + explanation of some invention would be boresome, he put a + little note at the foot of the page. This, I remembered, was + an admirable feature in his story "Brigands of the Moon," + which you published two years ago. + + I then turned to "The Readers' Corner" only to discover that + its name had been changed to "The Observatory." (I expect + this name was taken from the suggestion of P. Leadbeater in + the March, 1931, issue.) I discovered also, to my delight, + that at the end of each letter the Editor made a few + comments. I finished reading the Readers' letters and on the + next page I found this leadline: "Science Questions and + Answers." I read these with enthusiasm. + + I forgot to mention the raise in the price to twenty-five + cents, but that is immaterial to me now since I have the + perfect science fiction magazine. You have surely hitched + your wagon (magazine) to a star now!--Clay Ferguson, Jr., + 510 Park St. S. W., Roanoke, Va. + + +_Sugar Candy_ + + Dear Editor: + + It is very seldom that I write to any page like "The + Readers' Corner" but I have gotten rather tired of all those + knocks. So I am writing to say that I have missed only one + of your issues since the second, (Feb. 1930) and have found + only one not to my liking, and I have forgotten what that + is. + + I have no comment to make on your Authors. I don't care who + writes it or what his literary reputation is--as long as + the story is good; and you wouldn't print it if it weren't. + + As for exact scientific data--away with it. Some may wish to + be bored with it, but I prefer action. I like your pictures. + They are bizarre and give one an idea of what the Author is + trying to convey. And they intrigue the interest before the + story is read. I also like the size, because it is not + awkward, and I like the edges because they make the pages + easy to turn.--Mrs. Margaret M. Phinney, 1632 W. 3rd, + Plainfield, N. J. + + +"_Becoming a Habit_" + + Dear Editor: + + The May Astounding Stories seems to have nothing but + complimentary letters in it. Mr. Magnuson probably tore out + his hair when he saw all those letters. Not that Astounding + Stories fully deserves all that praise. As one Reader said, + words are inadequate to describe how wonderful your magazine + is; however, I do not agree with those who denounce some of + the Readers for making criticisms and suggestions. No + magazine can be absolutely perfect, although Astounding + Stories comes pretty near it. Even if it were perfect, the + Readers would have to keep on making criticisms and + suggestions in order to keep it that way. Besides, "The + Readers' Corner" would become pretty dull and lifeless if + you printed nothing but flattering letters. Most of the + Readers who make unfavorable criticisms really have the + welfare of the magazine in mind, else they wouldn't write at + all. All of them aren't grouches. For example: a certain + person sent one of the Science Fiction magazines about the + most vicious and uncomplimentary letter that magazine had + ever received. Yet in this issue of Astounding Stories he + jumps on the knockers for daring to say anything against + Astounding Stories! So you see that all knockers are not + hopeless! + + I notice that you have complied with one of my requests, and + have published an autobiography of Mr. Wentzler, although + there is no picture. Perhaps, as Mr. Wentzler suggests, that + is for the best. The readers of Astounding Stories are + accustomed to pictures of grotesque and weird-looking + inhabitants of other planets, but a picture of Mr. Wentzler + may prove to be too much. Or, if you do put it in, you might + entitle it "Wesso's Conception of a Martian." + + I hope Mr. Wentzler does not take the above paragraph too + seriously. Like him, I was hit on the head when I was but a + babe. In my case, it was a bronze statue that proved to be + my undoing. Unfortunately, they were never able to + straighten out the bend in that statue, which was the result + of its contact with my dome. + + As for the stories in the May issue, they were all perfect, + every one of them. Having all the stories perfect in each + issue is becoming a habit with you. Keep up this habit. For + first place I nominate "When the Moon Turned Green." I + considered Mr. Wells' previous story, "The Gate to Xoran" + the best short story you had ever printed, but the later one + surpasses it. You will not be making a mistake if you give + us many more stories by this Author. I do not need to say + anything else about the rest of the stories--they are all + excellent. + + Don't you think that it is about time for Astounding Stories + to become a semi-monthly?--Michael Fogaris, 157 Fourth + Street, Passaic, N. J. + + +_Located at Last_ + + Dear Editor: + + I read every Science Fiction magazine on the market, and can + truthfully say that yours is the best of them all. + + Of course, there is always room for improvement, and some of + the stories published in the May issue were not so hot. Meek + always gives me a pain in the neck, but Cummings is an ace, + though the installment in this issue dragged considerably. + In Diffin you have a master writer; and I was tickled to + death to see finally in "our" mag a story by that peerless + team, Schachner and Zagat. + + I was wondering how long it would take you to locate them, + as you have done with most of the other stars in Science + Fiction.--Bill Merriam, Ocean Front, Venice, Cal. + + +_"Stories Aid Considerably"_ + + Dear Editor: + + I cannot rightfully say what story was the best in + Astounding Stories. For the man who balances stories for + their values is just kidding himself. That is my theory and + I am ready at all times to stand in back of it. + + Though I have only been reading Astounding Stories since + January, I am a thoroughly convinced fan. For the past two + years I have been puttering with chemistry and physics in a + laboratory of my own, and the science mentioned in these + stories aids considerably. + + I would sincerely appreciate letters from Readers of + Astounding Stories. I will answer all.--Lawrence Schumaker, + 1020 Sharon St., Jamesville, Wis. + + +_To the Rescue, Somebody!_ + + Dear Editor: + + You're getting better all the time. The April number was the + best yet, and the May issue is not far behind it. The cover + on the May issue was wonderful. + + "Dark Moon" is the best story by Diffin that you have yet + printed. "When the Moon Turned Green" and "The Death Cloud" + are both masterpieces. + + "The Exile of Time" is a fine story, but I cannot understand + the explanations. How could the murder of Major Atwood be + mentioned in the records of New York? Why could not one see + events in which he participated? Of course, Ray Cummings + perhaps knows more about it than I, but I think a lot of his + ideas are the bunk. + + I do not think that your stories should be full of science + and nothing else, but they should at least observe known + scientific facts.--J. J. Johnston, Mowbray, Man., Can. + + +_A "Two-Timer"_ + + Dear Editor: + + I was surprised but pleased to receive the answer to the + question I asked in my letter to you. It is indeed a + pleasure to read a magazine that takes enough interest in + its patrons to personally answer a letter written to it. + Thank you very much. + + And I am certainly glad that we are to get a sequel to "Dark + Moon." I wish that I could personally tell Mr. Diffin what I + think of his writing. + + I am anxiously awaiting the next issue of "our mag." It + certainly does seem a long time between issues. When are you + going to start putting it on the stands twice a month? I + know that thousands of Readers would bless the day you did + it. + + Please keep up the good work; and I know you will, for the + longer I read A. S. the more I enjoy it. + + The serial, "The Exile of Time," is a story par excellence. + But I know the forthcoming sequel to "Dark Moon" will be a + super-story. + + My idea of reading is that if a story is worth reading once + it is worth reading twice, and I have never seen any story + in your book that was not worth reading once. Nuff said. + + I will answer any letters written me. I hope to hear from + plenty of Readers--C. G. Davis, 531 S. Millard, Chicago, + Ill. + + +_And Sequel It Has_ + + Dear Editor: + + I have just finished the May number of Astounding Stories, + and want to send my contribution to "The Readers' Corner." + + The novelette, "Dark Moon," by Diffin, is rather an + outstanding story, in my opinion. It is plausible and + convincing, and the literary quality is high. I have a + feeling that this should have a sequel, and wonder if others + will not agree with me. That Astounding Stories is the best + of the Science Fiction Magazines is something that scarcely + lends itself to argument. Without questions, it leads them + all. Take the present number for instance: Diffin, Meek and + Cummings, three top-notchers, all in one issue.--A. J. + Harris, 1525 Bushnell Ave., South Pasadena, Cal. + + +_I'm Afraid Not_ + + Dear Editor: + + I have read every one of your Astounding Stories and think + there is no other magazine on the market like it. Only one + kick: it doesn't appear often enough. I should like to see + it every week; every two weeks, anyway. I like every story + you print, and I think the size of your magazine is perfect. + I have saved every issue I read, and now have seventeen of + them. + + "Phalanxes of Atlans" and "Marooned Under the Sea" were + especially good. "The Readers' Corner" is fine, but I don't + like so many brickbats thrown. I should like to see more + bouquets given to you. + + There is one thing I'd like to see you print. You probably + have heard of the Fox Movietone picture, "Just Imagine," an + interplanetary story of 1930. I'd like to see it printed in + Astounding Stories more than anything else. It would make a + fine serial. I don't suppose it would be possible for you to + print it, though, would it?--Ernestine Small, 1151 Brighton + Ave., Portland, Ore. + + +_Better to Verse_ + +Dear Editor: + + Astounding Stories can't be beat; + Its every issue is a treat. + The finest authors of the age + Appear upon Astounding's stage. + There's Diffin, Cummings, Leinster, Burks; + An all-star cast that's sure the works. + Harl Vincent, Wells, and Starzl, too, + Belong among this famous crew. + Ed Hamilton and Vic Rousseau + With Captain Meek complete the show. + Together they are sure the best; + That's why Astounding leads the rest! + + --Booth Cody, Bronx, N. Y. + + +_Another "Two-Timer"_ + + Dear Editor: + + I have just finished reading the May issue of Astounding + Stories for the second time. I have been reading Astounding + Stories for over a year, and so far I can find only one + thing wrong with it, and that is that it is not thick + enough. In other words, you do not put enough stories in it. + + Some people who write in to the "Corner" say that the paper + is rotten. I still have all my magazines, and the paper is + as good as new. The paper is also good on the eyes, as it + does not reflect light like a mirror, as some paper does. + Some people say the pages are uneven and hard to turn. Like + Mr. H. N. Snager, I become so interested in the stories I do + not notice such trifles. Anybody who yells about the color + of the cover, the durability of the paper, is not very + interested in Astounding Stories. + + Why don't you either print a full page picture at the + beginning of each story or else keep the half page picture + at the beginning and put another picture halfway through the + story?--Wm. McCalvy, 1244 Beech St., St. Paul, Minn. + + +_A Buttercup for Paul_ + + Dear Editor: + + Congratulations! Astounding Stories has scored again! Not + satisfied with illustrations by the mighty Wesso only, you + have secured a drawing by the equally mighty Paul! May we + see many more by him?--Thomas L. Kratzer, 3595 Tullamore + Rd., Cleveland Heights, Ohio. + + +_Nerves Now Better?_ + + Dear Editor: + + In Gould you have a fine illustrator; in Wesso a better one, + but as I skip the page on which the story, a truly + remarkable one by R. F. Starzl, "The Earthman's Burden" is + on, my eye is caught by--yes! a drawing by Paul, good old + reliable Mr. Paul, the king of Science Fiction illustrators. + Now that you have him on your artist's staff I wouldn't feel + at all bad seeing a painting of his on the cover. + + The June issue was a dazzler. "Manape the Mighty" held me + spellbound. The others were all excellent stories. The cover + painting by Wesso was good, but I have already seen one of + that sort in a previous issue. Why not give us more + interplanetary illustrations of space ships and the like as + in "Brigands of the Moon"? + + Another thing, it is nine-thirty. I must be asleep by + eleven-thirty in order to start for school early the next + morning. I allow myself two hours in which to read + Astounding Stories. I turn to the contents section; I see a + story there which I wish to read. It is on page 604. I turn + the pages: 599, 601, 607 come in rapid succession, all but + the page I look for. This goes on for some time until at + last the roughened edge of 604 comes into view. By then my + nerves are on edge and I find it is almost eleven-thirty! + + But I cannot say that you do not stand up with the foremost + of all magazines, and the way you are improving now you'll + soon forge far in front.--Arthur Berkowitz, 763 Beck St., + New York City. + + +_Some Goal!_ + + Dear Editor: + + Permit me to congratulate Mr. Diffin on his latest + masterpiece, "Holocaust." + + Every once in a while Mr. Diffin produces a story that bids + fair to eclipse all its contemporaries. His former story, + "The Power and the Glory," could also be placed in that + category. Somehow, that story has become indelibly written + on my memory. The philosophy expressed in it was + overwhelming. It would have done justice to a Shakespeare. + + And now, you can imagine how delighted I am to learn that + Mr. Diffin has once again graced us with a yarn of the same + class. + + Man, if you continue to publish such stories as these + frequently, you'll have the public terming Astounding + Stories literature of the highest grade! However, I won't + entreat Mr. Diffin to write these stories spasmodically, as + the long wait between tales adds lure to the stories. + + And now for Mr. Burks. Ah--here is an extraordinary chap! + Mr. Burks is your most versatile author. Of his several + stories, each has opened up a new vista in the field of + Science Fiction, and he is a thoroughbred in each endeavor. + If you want to be convinced, read the opening chapters of + "Manape The Mighty," and I will wager any sum you won't lay + down the story until you've read every word. + + As a matter of fact, all the stories are good. And the bill + for next month appears to be exceptionally unusual. It is + very evident that you are on the road to perfection. Smooth + cut edges, the acquisition of the greatest of artists, Paul, + all point to the accelerating progress Astounding Stories is + achieving. + + We Readers are frequently asked as to how we would run the + magazine if we were Editors. Well, here is my conception of + the ideal magazine: + + Smooth paper, no advertisements whatsoever, the interior + illustrations done by an artist with the talent of a Paul + and a Wesso combined, and made in water colors, too. Then I + would only have such renowned Authors as Burroughs, MacIsaac + and a few others. I suppose that's the eternal dream of the + modern Editor, but who can say that you, Mr. Bates, won't + evolve Astounding Stories in the same manner. At any rate, + there's a goal to aim for.--Mortimer Weisinger, 266 Van + Cortlandt Ave., Bronx, N. Y. + + +_Guilty_ + + Dear Editor: + + You are hereby summoned to appear in Court on attempt of + murder. Following are the charges: Stopping my heart from + beating when I saw the smooth edges in Astounding Stories, + and making my heart miss five beats when I saw "The + Earthman's Burden" illustrated by Paul! + + I now think Astounding Stories has reached its highest peak. + Arthur J. Burks' story was a wow. I hope he works on a story + as he said he would in "The Readers' Corner" if he gets + enough requests. + + And Charles Willard Diffin! Here's a writer for you. I think + the first story he ever wrote was published in Astounding + Stories. Don't lose him. His "Holocaust" is his best, with + the probable exception of "The Power and the Glory." I don't + think the last mentioned ever got enough praise. I expect to + see it reprinted some day in The Golden Book Magazine. It's + distinctly smooth paper style. + + And of course Sewell Peaslee Wright's "John Hanson" stories + are top-notchers. + + And Ray Cummings. Must we mention his story? We all know + what to expect when we read one of his stories. I hope you + have another serial by him soon. + + I'm sure you'll be deluged with letters because of the even + edges and the illustrations by Paul (who should draw at + least two in every issue), but I hope you'll print my + letter, because I never had a letter of mine in print, and + want to get a thrill seeing this published.--Anthony + Caserta, 4575 Park Ave., New York, N. Y. + + +"_Very Pretty Problems Here_" + + Dear Editor: + + The letters by P. Schuyler, J. N. Mosleh, and Jackson Gee in + the last number sure do raise some very neat possibilities + in Science. Anent travel in time, just what would you, Mr. + Schuyler, expect to see if "John Doe" at 40 years (1931) + went back to 1892 and met "John Doe" of that date on Main + Street of his old home town? I suspect that two bodies + cannot simultaneously contain the same ego, constant-entity, + personality, or soul. + + Which brings me to Mr. Mosleh, to ask: Just how is the + self-realizant ego, which is conscious that "I am I" + unchangingly for life, in any sense a derivative of the + unstable, rapidly changing body? + + Mr. Burks and Mr. Lee elucidate a very pretty little problem + on the same lines. The cranial transplantation and the + "atomic patterns" are admittedly scientifically and + reasonably possible. But there is a real point of doubt: + Would the personality accompany the brain in + transplantation? True, the brain is the control room; but--? + + And would the "atomic patterns," perfectly as they could + duplicate a body, which is unstable by nature, work on the + essentially stable ego (relatively) with its inherent + capacity for continuity? + + If not, would not the synthetic "Extra Man" be a human being + minus personality? Some very pretty problems here. I'd much + like to see a story along the lines of item 3 in Mr. Burks' + letter.--L. Partridge, Box 84, Cornish, Me. + + +_What Price Smoothness?_ + + Dear Editor: + + I have just finished the June issue of Astounding Stories. + The cover was excellent, as were all the illustrations, + except perhaps Manape's arms should have been a little + larger. + + I see that the edges of the paper are now smooth, but still + the leaves stick out beyond one another, so what good does + that do? + + "Manape the Mighty," by Arthur J. Burks, was superb, + gripping. I suppose a lot of Readers will rise violently + against the love interest, but, I ask you, just where would + this particular story be without the romance in it? This + particular story, you understand; not every story. + + "Holocaust," by Charles Willard Diffin, was next best with + "The Man from 2071" a close second. + + "The Earthman's Burden" was at least entertaining, which + this installment of "The Exile of Time" was not.--Robert + Baldwin, 359 Hazel Ave., Highland Park, Ill. + + +_Time Trouble Answers Wanted_ + + Dear Editor: + + I have read your magazine for nearly two years, but this is + my first letter to the "Corner." The first and second + installments of Ray Cummings' "Exile of Time" prompted me to + write this. There is a story you can well be proud of. I + should like to obtain it in book form. Mr. Cummings is a + wonder. I have read many time stories, but his is at the top + of my list. + + If there is any other "time" fan in A. S.'s "Readers' + Corner" I should like to have a letter discussion on it with + him. None of my acquaintances care a whoop about that type + of story, so I have to thrash out all my problems by myself. + + There are some questions I would like to ask about "The + Exile of Time." + + 1--In the event of the appearance of the time-traveling + cage, the story ran, to use Ray's own words: "Suddenly + before me there was a white ghost. A shape. A wraith of + something which a moment before had not been there. The + shape was like a mist. Then in a second or two it was + solid." + + Why should the cage appear as a mist at first? If there is + any amount of time separating two things, those two things + are invisible to each other, are they not? Any amount of + time would include a second, and even a millionth part of a + second. In that case, the cage should suddenly appear in the + twinkling of an eye, with no trace of a blur. + + 2--Supposing I were standing at a spot five feet from a + time-traveling vehicle. The latter would be traveling + through time at 3 P. M., while I am at 2 P. M.--an hour's + difference between us. It would be invisible to me then, but + an hour later when I would be at 3 P. M. and the machine at + 4 P. M., then I would see it as it appeared at 3 P. M. + Whatever movement it would make in space, I would not see + until an hour later. Is that right? Then is it not possible + that each individual is existing in a different time realm? + And we see them, or I see the other fellow as he appeared + when my time caught up with his? I had better quit before I + get hooted off the stage. + + 3--If a man invented a time-traveler and went back to the + year of the beginning of the World War, knowing all he has + read in history, could he not take steps to prevent a war + that has already happened? Or would that power be denied + him? Somewhere in the story is said that the past cannot be + changed, and that any effort to do so would be useless. In + my belief, no matter where or when a man goes into the past, + if he appears in a year or day that has already gone by, he + is changing the past. Then there should be no room for + doubt: time-travelling is impossible. It never will be done + (An Astounding Stories fan should be kicked for using the + word "impossible"!). + + Let's have more good thought-provoking time tales. And get + lots of stories from Cummings--he's a wow. I sure would like + to spend an evening at a campfire with him.--Allen Spoolman, + 613--4th Avenue, W., Ashland, Wisc. + + +"_Eh, What?_" + + Dear Editor: + + Just got my June issue of our good mag, Astounding Stories, + and I think that it is great. One thing you should do, + however, is have a more mechanical cover design. + + In regard to Miss Gertrude Hemkin's letter in the June issue + of A. S., let me say that I just wonder what she would like + to expect in our "The Readers' Corner" if she does not like + to hear what others think of our Astounding Stories. Maybe + she would like to read about checker debates or the like. + Eh, what? + + If Rex Wertz of Oregon, who is now located somewhere in Los + Angeles, will drop me a line, perhaps we can become + acquainted as he suggested.--Edward Anderson, 123 Hollister + Ave., Ocean Park, Cal. + + +_Hope He Does_ + + Dear Editor: + + I have never been interested before in a magazine enough to + write to their departments, like "The Readers' Corner," and + I have read plenty of magazines. + + "Beyond the Vanishing Point" stands head and shoulders above + any story I have ever read. I have only one thing to say + about your other stories: they are almost as good as the one + I just mentioned. + + I have a few words to say about these people who throw + brickbats at every story they read. I wouldn't be surprised + if they just read the story so they could find something + wrong with it. There's one in particular who wrote a few + lines in the June issue about your taking the word "science" + off the front page, saying there was no science in the + magazine, anyway. What does the title say? Well that's what + 90% of the Readers want, anyway. I hope that chap reads + this. + + Well, I'll sign off. Here is a little toast to the magazine: + "Long may it live."--Earl Rogers, 409--16th St., Galveston, + Tex. + + +_Two, Better Than One?_ + + Dear Editor: + + The two outstanding stories in the May issue of A. S. were + "The Death Cloud," by Nat Schachner and Arthur L. Zagat, and + "Dark Moon," by Charles W. Diffin. Common reasoning tells me + that the heads of two Science Fiction writers can formulate + a story better than one. I couldn't help admire Mr. + Schachner and Mr. Zagat when I read their story because of + the cleverness shown in it. + + Please give us a story by them every month.--Ray Y. Tilford, + Rockport, Ky. + + +"_And Here I Am_" + + Dear Editor: + + It's about time for me to concede that your or "our" + magazine is the best I have read. Ten issues have come into + my hands and I am perfectly well satisfied with the line of + fiction that you publish. I have read about fifty different + magazines on the market, and I am sure that Astounding + Stories is the best of them all. I have followed the + magazine for seven months and that is the best amount of + reading any magazine can boast for me. In your case, if the + magazine lasts seventy years, you can be sure that I will + read it for that period of time (provided I live that long). + + I notice that several brickbats have come into your hands + and that you have printed them. Well, that shows + sportsmanship on your part. I would suggest to those who are + not satisfied with Astounding Stories to duck their head in + a pail of water and pull it out after a period of ten + minutes. Those who criticize the stories because of the lack + of science have no idea what it takes to write a story. + Please be willing to concede the Author the right of way. He + is giving his theories and not yours. However, in some cases + where the truth is an established fact, I can see where the + Readers may present a justified argument. But they should + remember that we are not all perfect and that mistakes are + made by all. It is not fair to criticize an Author by + denouncing him. + + I don't favor reprints at all, but I can stay with the + majority if they do. It is a foregone conclusion that you + can fool some of the people some of the time, but you can't + fool all of the people all the time. In this case substitute + the word "please" in the saying for "fool." + + I am at present reading Charles W. Diffin's novel "The + Pirate Planet." It is one of the best interplanetary novels + that I have ever read. Give us some more of Diffin; he has + the goods. I must say that you have an immensely long list + of popular authors, and it must cost quite a little amount + of money to maintain them. + + Keep the size of the magazine as it is now; it fits + conveniently into my bookcase, and I believe many of your + Readers will say the same. + + Now some of my favorite stories. "The Ape-Men Of Xlotli" was + one of the best stories that I have read in years. Give us + some more along this line. It offers rest after one has just + finished reading an interplanetary novel. + + "Monsters of Moyen" was another story that I greatly + enjoyed. Very few people believe that the world shall ever + have a conqueror again, and I am one of them; but it is + interesting to see if there ever will be a conqueror and + what means he shall employ to get that title. + + "Brigands of the Moon" was the worst story I read in your + magazine. That must have been Mr. Cummings' off story. But + he certainly has come back fine through his later stories. + + "The Tentacles from Below" was another great masterpiece. + Anthony Gilmore's tale was the first that I have read of + that author, and I will be delighted to see more. + + Funny how I developed into a Reader of Science Fiction. I + exhausted all other fields of reading, and having nothing + else to read I delved into a science magazine and here I + am.--Michael Racano, 51 Brookwood St., East Orange, N. J. + + +_Turns to It First_ + + Dear Editor: + + The June issue of Astounding Stories can't be beat. What an + issue! As it seems to be the usual thing, I'll start at the + front and go to the back. + + The cover: very colorful: another proof of Wesso's talent. + And speaking of artists, I was very pleasantly surprised at + the unexpected illustration by Paul. I certainly hope you + can get him, if not for cover pictures, at least for the + inside illustrations. (Too bad you are modest about printing + complimentary letters, for I mean this to be all roses, no + brickbats.) + + "The Man from 2071"--another good story of "John Hanson's." + "Manape the Mighty," although somewhat like the Tarzan + series, is a wonderfully fine story. "Holocaust"--good. "The + Earthman's Burden," as all of Starzl's, was exceptionally + good. "The Exile of Time"--getting better every issue. + + "The Readers' Corner" as usual was one of the most + interesting parts of the magazine. I always turn to it + first, for I know I will have an enjoyable time reading + every letter. And, by the way, the significance of "Manape" + just came to me. Don't know why I didn't see it + before.--Linus Hogenmiller, 502 N. Washington St., + Farmington, Mo. + + +_Likes the "Joke"_ + + Dear Editor: + + Although I have read only two issues of Astounding Stories, + I feel the urge to write a line. The June number was better + than the May issue. Arthur J. Burks' story, "Manape the + Mighty," was excellent, though I am not so strong for the + idea of having Barter escape the apes and carry on his + experiments as suggested by the Author. It would be against + common sense to have the apes allow him to make a getaway. + The prize winner in the May issue was "Dark Moon." There + might be a sequel to that, and I'd like to see it. + + I like a little variety in a magazine. The Readers who say + they do not care for stories scientifically impossible may + be right; in that case "The Exile of Time" is the greatest + joke ever written--yet I like it immensely. One thing that + is impossible is the destruction of matter. It can be broken + up, or condensed as in "When Caverns Yawned," but not + destroyed completely. + + Mr. W. H. Flowers evidently has a grudge against the fair + sex. The love interest is not necessary in short stories, + it's true; but what kind of a long novel would it be if the + hero had no incentive, nothing to risk his life for, except + a possible word of praise from the scientific world? + + No matter how much a man loves his work it is my opinion + that he would not die for the purpose of proving his point. + + Not being able to take a hint, the knockers still appear to + mar an otherwise perfect day--this time in the person of + Harry Pancoast. If Astounding Stories ever gets so bad that + not even one story in it is of interest to me--I'll just + drop out of the waiting line--and keep my mouth + closed.--Richard Waite, 8 South Ave., Warsaw, N. Y. + + +_Never Noticed That_ + + Dear Editor: + + Just bought my latest copy of Astounding Stories, and what + an edition! First, the cover (Wesso has all others beat by a + mile). Then, the stories. Well, take "Manape the Mighty": it + is one of the best Science Fiction stories I have ever read. + "The Exile of Time" was great. + + Have you ever noticed that almost every critic of Science + Fiction is either a teacher or a female? Jim Nicholson and I + certainly know that.--Billy Roche, Sec. Interplanetary Dept. + of the B. S. B., 101 St. Elmo, San Francisco, Cal. + + +_Sunflowers for All_ + + Dear Editor: + + Miracles do happen! I was never so thoroughly astounded in + all my life as when I received the great June issue of "our" + magazine with _straight_ edges! Thank you and all concerned + for publishing "our" magazine sans rough edges. The smooth + edges ought to cut the reading time of Astounding Stories + down to an hour and forty-five minutes as we always used to + waste a lot of time fumbling about with the pages. + + But if I was astounded at the long awaited straight edges, I + was still more amazed at the great innovation of an + illustration by Paul! Let's have more and more of his + remarkable drawings. Astounding Stories is truly great now + with its fine Editor, splendid Authors, excellent stories, + worthy illustrations, essential "Readers' Corner," Paul + (Ah!) and good binding! Yes! You heard right! I said good + binding! Of course it makes amusing material to write about + the binding and remark that it comes off after once handling + it, or that the paper is soon worn to shreds, but such + matters shouldn't be honestly believed. I have every issue + of Astounding Stories (eighteen great numbers!) and each and + every issue is as good as new. I have never had any trouble + with the covers departing from the rest of the magazine or + the pages becoming moldy. + + Sewell Peaslee Wright's "The Man from 2071" is just perfect. + I enjoy nothing more than one of his realistic stories of + Commander John Hanson. We want more! Arthur J. Burks' + novelette, "Manape the Mighty," was clever. I had a + premonition that I wouldn't like this story, and in fact + told a friend so. It just goes to prove that hunches can be + wrong. Charles Willard Diffin should be proud of his + "Holocaust." I'm sure that most Readers enjoyed it as much + as I did. Of course, Starzl's "The Earthman's Burden" was a + peach. His stories of other planets are always weird, + bizarre, and yet they seem to ring true. That is the magic + of R. F. Starzl! Paul illustrated it in his own + unapproachable style. "The Exile of Time," as everyone + agrees, is Cummings' best. I am waiting for its thrilling + conclusion. + + I am one who would like Astounding Stories to be a large + size magazine, but it can easily be seen that everyone can't + be pleased. If you'll just leave it the way it is--i. e., + straight edges, illustrations by Paul, same authors and same + excellent Editor--I'll be satisfied.--Forrest J. Ackerman, + 530 Staples Ave., San Francisco, Cal. + + +"_Great Relief_" + + Dear Editor: + + The story, "Manape the Mighty," by Arthur J. Burks, was by + far one of the most thrilling and educational stories that + ever appeared in Astounding Stories. Of course, others will + disagree, but an Author cannot please all. It is of great + relief to change from the monotonous every day kind of + stories that appear in Collier's, Liberty and The Saturday + Evening Post to the refreshing and soothing "impossible" + type of A. S. + + Ever since the January issue, I've been an ardent pursuer of + Astounding Stories. To me it is even more astounding that I + seem to like it more and more each succeeding issue. I find + it, undoubtedly, the best magazine of its type. I've tried + others of similar type, but it seems as if my mind couldn't + grasp the knack of their stories, which were either boresome + with scientific and technical explanations, or, as one might + say, "not a darn thing to them." + + R. F. Starzl is a wonderful author. Ray Cummings, Sewell + Peaslee Wright, Charles Willard Diffin, Captain S. P. Meek, + Edmond Hamilton, F. V. W. Mason and Murray Leinster are + excellent. + + There is one thing that I'd like to see in Astounding + Stories, and I'm sure many of the Readers would, too. It is + always my habit to read while eating. To finish the story in + time, I pick the shortest one. Sad to say, Astounding has + rather long stories. How about an occasional short story? + I'm sure your readers will approve. They would go over with + a bang!--P. Nikolaioff, 4325 S. Seeley Ave., Chicago, Ill. + + +_Sometimes Gets Mad_ + + Dear Editor: + + Although I have been an interested reader of Astounding + Stories since its inception, this is the first time I have + written. Astounding Stories have been so good lately that I + just had to write and compliment you on your good work. + There are, however, some criticisms I have to make. The + first is: I think Mr. W. H. Flowers of Pittsburgh, Pa, is + right when he says you sometimes have too much love in some + of your stories. The second is, I think it would be a good + thing to put notes at the end of a page to explain some of + the terms for the Readers who read mostly for the science + part. That is what I do, and I get mad when I read something + that does not give me the inside dope on it. Outside of that + I think Astounding Stories can't be beat. + + One more thing before I close. Keep Capt. S. P. Meek on your + staff or I will stop reading Astounding Stories, as much as + I would hate to do that. I think he is your best author by a + long shot.--Wilson Adams, Seat Pleasant, Md. + + +_From a "Female Woman"_ + + Dear Editor: + + The comment of Jim Nicholson in the June issue that it is + only "the females" who consider him "cracked" for reading + Science Fiction, and only women who do not care for science + in the stories, moves me to break into "The Readers' Corner" + for the first time. + + I happen to be a "female woman," and it is the men in our + family and circle of friends who laugh at me for buying + every Science Fiction magazine and book that I can find. + They call them my "nutty magazines." I have to admit that I + do not understand much of the scientific explanation, since + my mind does not run along mathematical or scientific lines, + but I do not mind having that in stories, for those who do + care for it and can understand it, as I can simply skip over + it, taking what I can grasp and letting the rest go. It + doesn't spoil the story for me. + + I have no criticism, constructive or otherwise, to make. I + enjoy the stories with some romance involved, and enjoy + those without equally well. My own preference would be that + you continue using rough paper and your present mechanical + construction, so that more money will be available to pay + for the stories. Few of us keep the magazines anyway, so + there isn't so much need for expensive paper. I like + interplanetary stories best, I think; but I was intensely + interested in "Beyond the Vanishing Point," "Manape the + Mighty" and "Holocaust." All different, but all very good. I + can't remember one I did not like. + + My work requires much study and concentration. I have + recommended to several men who do similar mental work that + they follow my plan of securing delightful relaxation by + losing themselves in another world through Science Fiction + magazines. Most of them find it as restful as I + do.--Berenice M. Harrison, Angola, Ind. + + +_Likes R. F. Starzl_ + + Dear Editor: + + It has been my purpose to write to you before, but due to an + extraordinary amount of detail work which I have had to do, + I have been unable to. + + I have read your marvelous magazine ever since the first + issue came into my hands, and I can honestly say that there + is no other book on the market which has held my attention + as long as yours has. I congratulate you on your very + interesting magazine. + + Arthur J. Burks, in his latest story, has conceived an + entirely new type of story, and I, for one, think it very + interesting. Plenty of science for the laymen and enough + interest for the others. + + I liked R. F. Starzl's story, "The Earthman's Burden," very + much, and I hope you will have more by this author soon. His + stories are perfect. Starzl is a deep thinker, and I am + right here to say that there is a man who understands men + and men's longings and inhibitions.--A. W. Gowing, 17 + Pasadena St., Springfield, Mass. + + +"_The Readers' Corner_" + +All readers are extended a sincere and cordial invitation to "come +over in 'The Readers' Corner'" and join in our monthly discussion of +stories, authors, scientific principles and possibilities--everything +that's of common interest in connection with our Astounding Stories. + +Although from time to time the Editor may make a comment or so, this +is a department primarily for Readers, and we want you to make full +use of it. Likes, dislikes, criticisms, explanations, roses, +brickbats, suggestions--everything's welcome here; so "come over in +'The Readers' Corner'" and discuss it with all of us! + + _The Editor._ + + * * * * * + + +A LIVING, DISEMBODIED HEART + + +A disembodied heart, not only still steadily beating but writing, as +it throbbed, a permanent, minutely precise record of its pulsations, +was exhibited recently at Princeton in a demonstration of the newest +instrument developed by science for the advancement of medicine and +psychology. + +The device, invented by A. L. Loomis of Tuxedo Park, N. Y., and +perfected in collaboration with Dr. Edmund N. Harvey, professor of +psychology at Princeton University, is called the Loomis chronograph. + +It will facilitate study of the phenomena of heart action and the +effect of drugs on that vital organ. The chronograph opens the way to +the accurate measuring and recording of the speed and variation of +human heart beats over long periods, even during the sleeping hours of +the subject, which is expected to prove of great value to +physiologists and criminologists. + +The heart of the recent demonstration was that of a turtle, removed +from the reptile while alive, freed of all extraneous tissue and +suspended in a physiological salt solution exactly duplicating body +conditions. In this state the organ continues to beat for thirty-six +hours, at the same time setting down, by means of the chronograph, a +graphic history of the approximately 72,000 pulsations it makes in +that time. With each beat the tiny organism pulled down a little lever +that dipped a fine filament into a drop of mercury and made a contact +that transmitted an electric impulse to the chronograph. There it was +translated to a fraction of a second into a record inked on a chart. + +Introduction into the solution of nicotine--one part in 10,000--and of +adrenalin--one part in a billion--was immediately noted by a marked +retarding of the heart tempo in the first case and swift acceleration +in the second. + +Use of the chronograph to study the action of any heart that can be +removed from the living body is possible, the scientist said, adding +that a comparatively simple adjustment will make possible recording of +the human heart by a device applied to the chest. + +Application of the instrument to tests of human nerve reactions and to +psychological tests is forecast. + + * * * * * + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Astounding Stories, August, 1931, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ASTOUNDING STORIES, AUGUST, 1931 *** + +***** This file should be named 33016.txt or 33016.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/0/1/33016/ + +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. 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