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diff --git a/3479-h/3479-h.htm b/3479-h/3479-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cdcc159 --- /dev/null +++ b/3479-h/3479-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13566 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Metal Monster, by A. Merritt + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Metal Monster, by A. Merritt + +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: The Metal Monster + +Author: A. Merritt + +Release Date: October 12, 2009 [EBook #3479] +Last Updated: March 16, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE METAL MONSTER *** + + + + +Produced by Judy Boss, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE METAL MONSTER + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By A. Merritt + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_PROL"> PROLOGUE </a><br /> <br /> <br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> VALLEY OF THE BLUE + POPPIES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> THE + SIGIL ON THE ROCKS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> RUTH + VENTNOR <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> METAL + WITH A BRAIN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> THE + SMITING THING <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> NORHALA + OF THE LIGHTNINGS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> THE + SHAPES IN THE MIST <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. + </a> THE DRUMS OF THUNDER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> + CHAPTER IX. </a> THE PORTAL OF FLAME <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a> "WITCH! GIVE BACK MY + SISTER” <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> THE + METAL EMPEROR <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a> "I + WILL GIVE YOU PEACE” <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. + </a> "VOICE FROM THE VOID” <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> + CHAPTER XIV. </a> "FREE! BUT A MONSTER!” <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a> THE HOUSE OF NORHALA + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a> CONSCIOUS + METAL! <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a> YURUK + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a> INTO + THE PIT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a> THE + CITY THAT WAS ALIVE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a> VAMPIRES + OF THE SUN <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a> PHANTASMAGORIA + METALLIQUE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a> THE + ENSORCELLED CHAMBER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. + </a> THE TREACHERY OF YURUK <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> + CHAPTER XXIV. </a> RUSZARK <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0025"> + CHAPTER XXV. </a> CHERKIS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0026"> + CHAPTER XXVI. </a> THE VENGEANCE OF NORHALA <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. </a> "THE DRUMS OF + DESTINY” <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. + </a> THE FRENZY OF RUTH <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0029"> + CHAPTER XXIX. </a> THE PASSING OF NORHALA <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX. </a> BURNED OUT <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. </a> SLAG! <br /><br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_PROL" id="link2H_PROL"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + PROLOGUE + </h2> + <p> + Before the narrative which follows was placed in my hands, I had never + seen Dr. Walter T. Goodwin, its author. + </p> + <p> + When the manuscript revealing his adventures among the pre-historic ruins + of the Nan-Matal in the Carolines (The Moon Pool) had been given me by the + International Association of Science for editing and revision to meet the + requirements of a popular presentation, Dr. Goodwin had left America. He + had explained that he was still too shaken, too depressed, to be able to + recall experiences that must inevitably carry with them freshened memories + of those whom he loved so well and from whom, he felt, he was separated in + all probability forever. + </p> + <p> + I had understood that he had gone to some remote part of Asia to pursue + certain botanical studies, and it was therefore with the liveliest + surprise and interest that I received a summons from the President of the + Association to meet Dr. Goodwin at a designated place and hour. + </p> + <p> + Through my close study of the Moon Pool papers I had formed a mental image + of their writer. I had read, too, those volumes of botanical research + which have set him high above all other American scientists in this field, + gleaning from their curious mingling of extremely technical observations + and minutely accurate but extraordinarily poetic descriptions, hints to + amplify my picture of him. It gratified me to find I had drawn a pretty + good one. + </p> + <p> + The man to whom the President of the Association introduced me was sturdy, + well-knit, a little under average height. He had a broad but rather low + forehead that reminded me somewhat of the late electrical wizard + Steinmetz. Under level black brows shone eyes of clear hazel, kindly, + shrewd, a little wistful, lightly humorous; the eyes both of a doer and a + dreamer. + </p> + <p> + Not more than forty I judged him to be. A close-trimmed, pointed beard did + not hide the firm chin and the clean-cut mouth. His hair was thick and + black and oddly sprinkled with white; small streaks and dots of gleaming + silver that shone with a curiously metallic luster. + </p> + <p> + His right arm was closely bound to his breast. His manner as he greeted me + was tinged with shyness. He extended his left hand in greeting, and as I + clasped the fingers I was struck by their peculiar, pronounced, yet + pleasant warmth; a sensation, indeed, curiously electric. + </p> + <p> + The Association's President forced him gently back into his chair. + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Goodwin,” he said, turning to me, “is not entirely recovered as yet + from certain consequences of his adventures. He will explain to you later + what these are. In the meantime, Mr. Merritt, will you read this?” + </p> + <p> + I took the sheets he handed me, and as I read them felt the gaze of Dr. + Goodwin full upon me, searching, weighing, estimating. When I raised my + eyes from the letter I found in his a new expression. The shyness was + gone; they were filled with complete friendliness. Evidently I had passed + muster. + </p> + <p> + “You will accept, sir?” It was the president's gravely courteous tone. + </p> + <p> + “Accept!” I exclaimed. “Why, of course, I accept. It is not only one of + the greatest honors, but to me one of the greatest delights to act as a + collaborator with Dr. Goodwin.” + </p> + <p> + The president smiled. + </p> + <p> + “In that case, sir, there is no need for me to remain longer,” he said. + “Dr. Goodwin has with him his manuscript as far as he has progressed with + it. I will leave you two alone for your discussion.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed to us and, picking up his old-fashioned bell-crowned silk hat and + his quaint, heavy cane of ebony, withdrew. Dr. Goodwin turned to me. + </p> + <p> + “I will start,” he said, after a little pause, “from when I met Richard + Drake on the field of blue poppies that are like a great prayer-rug at the + gray feet of the nameless mountain.” + </p> + <p> + The sun sank, the shadows fell, the lights of the city sparkled out, for + hours New York roared about me unheeded while I listened to the tale of + that utterly weird, stupendous drama of an unknown life, of unknown + creatures, unknown forces, and of unconquerable human heroism played among + the hidden gorges of unknown Asia. + </p> + <p> + It was dawn when I left him for my own home. Nor was it for many hours + after that I laid his then incomplete manuscript down and sought sleep—and + found a troubled sleep. + </p> + <p> + A. MERRITT <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. VALLEY OF THE BLUE POPPIES + </h2> + <p> + In this great crucible of life we call the world—in the vaster one + we call the universe—the mysteries lie close packed, uncountable as + grains of sand on ocean's shores. They thread gigantic, the star-flung + spaces; they creep, atomic, beneath the microscope's peering eye. They + walk beside us, unseen and unheard, calling out to us, asking why we are + deaf to their crying, blind to their wonder. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes the veils drop from a man's eyes, and he sees—and speaks + of his vision. Then those who have not seen pass him by with the lifted + brows of disbelief, or they mock him, or if his vision has been great + enough they fall upon and destroy him. + </p> + <p> + For the greater the mystery, the more bitterly is its verity assailed; + upon what seem the lesser a man may give testimony and at least gain for + himself a hearing. + </p> + <p> + There is reason for this. Life is a ferment, and upon and about it, + shifting and changing, adding to or taking away, beat over legions of + forces, seen and unseen, known and unknown. And man, an atom in the + ferment, clings desperately to what to him seems stable; nor greets with + joy him who hazards that what he grips may be but a broken staff, and, so + saying, fails to hold forth a sturdier one. + </p> + <p> + Earth is a ship, plowing her way through uncharted oceans of space wherein + are strange currents, hidden shoals and reefs, and where blow the unknown + winds of Cosmos. + </p> + <p> + If to the voyagers, painfully plotting their course, comes one who cries + that their charts must be remade, nor can tell WHY they must be—that + man is not welcome—no! + </p> + <p> + Therefore it is that men have grown chary of giving testimony upon + mysteries. Yet knowing each in his own heart the truth of that vision he + has himself beheld, lo, it is that in whose reality he most believes. + </p> + <p> + The spot where I had encamped was of a singular beauty; so beautiful that + it caught the throat and set an ache within the breast—until from it + a tranquillity distilled that was like healing mist. + </p> + <p> + Since early March I had been wandering. It was now mid-July. And for the + first time since my pilgrimage had begun I drank—not of + forgetfulness, for that could never be—but of anodyne for a sorrow + which had held fast upon me since my return from the Carolines a year + before. + </p> + <p> + No need to dwell here upon that—it has been written. Nor shall I + recite the reasons for my restlessness—for these are known to those + who have read that history of mine. Nor is there cause to set forth at + length the steps by which I had arrived at this vale of peace. + </p> + <p> + Sufficient is to tell that in New York one night, reading over what is + perhaps the most sensational of my books—“The Poppies and Primulas + of Southern Tibet,” the result of my travels of 1910-1911, I determined to + return to that quiet, forbidden land. There, if anywhere, might I find + something akin to forgetting. + </p> + <p> + There was a certain flower which I long had wished to study in its + mutations from the singular forms appearing on the southern slopes of the + Elburz—Persia's mountainous chain that extends from Azerbaijan in + the west to Khorasan in the east; from thence I would follow its modified + types in the Hindu-Kush ranges and its migrations along the southern + scarps of the Trans-Himalayas—the unexplored upheaval, higher than + the Himalayas themselves, more deeply cut with precipice and gorge, which + Sven Hedin had touched and named on his journey to Lhasa. + </p> + <p> + Having accomplished this, I planned to push across the passes to the + Manasarowar Lakes, where, legend has it, the strange, luminous purple + lotuses grow. + </p> + <p> + An ambitious project, undeniably fraught with danger; but it is written + that desperate diseases require desperate remedies, and until inspiration + or message how to rejoin those whom I had loved so dearly came to me, + nothing less, I felt, could dull my heartache. + </p> + <p> + And, frankly, feeling that no such inspiration or message could come, I + did not much care as to the end. + </p> + <p> + In Teheran I had picked up a most unusual servant; yes, more than this, a + companion and counselor and interpreter as well. + </p> + <p> + He was a Chinese; his name Chiu-Ming. His first thirty years had been + spent at the great Lamasery of Palkhor-Choinde at Gyantse, west of Lhasa. + Why he had gone from there, how he had come to Teheran, I never asked. It + was most fortunate that he had gone, and that I had found him. He + recommended himself to me as the best cook within ten thousand miles of + Pekin. + </p> + <p> + For almost three months we had journeyed; Chiu-Ming and I and the two + ponies that carried my impedimenta. + </p> + <p> + We had traversed mountain roads which had echoed to the marching feet of + the hosts of Darius, to the hordes of the Satraps. The highways of the + Achaemenids—yes, and which before them had trembled to the + tramplings of the myriads of the godlike Dravidian conquerors. + </p> + <p> + We had slipped over ancient Iranian trails; over paths which the warriors + of conquering Alexander had traversed; dust of bones of Macedons, of + Greeks, of Romans, beat about us; ashes of the flaming ambitions of the + Sassanidae whimpered beneath our feet—the feet of an American + botanist, a Chinaman, two Tibetan ponies. We had crept through clefts + whose walls had sent back the howlings of the Ephthalites, the White Huns + who had sapped the strength of these same proud Sassanids until at last + both fell before the Turks. + </p> + <p> + Over the highways and byways of Persia's glory, Persia's shame and + Persia's death we four—two men, two beasts—had passed. For a + fortnight we had met no human soul, seen no sign of human habitation. + </p> + <p> + Game had been plentiful—green things Chiu-Ming might lack for his + cooking, but meat never. About us was a welter of mighty summits. We were, + I knew, somewhere within the blending of the Hindu-Kush with the + Trans-Himalayas. + </p> + <p> + That morning we had come out of a ragged defile into this valley of + enchantment, and here, though it had been so early, I had pitched my tent, + determining to go no farther till the morrow. + </p> + <p> + It was a Phocean vale; a gigantic cup filled with tranquillity. A spirit + brooded over it, serene, majestic, immutable—like the untroubled + calm which rests, the Burmese believe, over every place which has guarded + the Buddha, sleeping. + </p> + <p> + At its eastern end towered the colossal scarp of the unnamed peak through + one of whose gorges we had crept. On his head was a cap of silver set with + pale emeralds—the snow fields and glaciers that crowned him. Far to + the west another gray and ochreous giant reared its bulk, closing the + vale. North and south, the horizon was a chaotic sky land of pinnacles, + spired and minareted, steepled and turreted and domed, each diademed with + its green and argent of eternal ice and snow. + </p> + <p> + And all the valley was carpeted with the blue poppies in wide, unbroken + fields, luminous as the morning skies of mid-June; they rippled mile after + mile over the path we had followed, over the still untrodden path which we + must take. They nodded, they leaned toward each other, they seemed to + whisper—then to lift their heads and look up like crowding swarms of + little azure fays, half impudently, wholly trustfully, into the faces of + the jeweled giants standing guard over them. And when the little breeze + walked upon them it was as though they bent beneath the soft tread and + were brushed by the sweeping skirts of unseen, hastening Presences. + </p> + <p> + Like a vast prayer-rug, sapphire and silken, the poppies stretched to the + gray feet of the mountain. Between their southern edge and the clustering + summits a row of faded brown, low hills knelt—like brown-robed, + withered and weary old men, backs bent, faces hidden between outstretched + arms, palms to the earth and brows touching earth within them—in the + East's immemorial attitude of worship. + </p> + <p> + I half expected them to rise—and as I watched a man appeared on one + of the bowed, rocky shoulders, abruptly, with the ever-startling + suddenness which in the strange light of these latitudes objects spring + into vision. As he stood scanning my camp there arose beside him a laden + pony, and at its head a Tibetan peasant. The first figure waved its hand; + came striding down the hill. + </p> + <p> + As he approached I took stock of him. A young giant, three good inches + over six feet, a vigorous head with unruly clustering black hair; a + clean-cut, clean-shaven American face. + </p> + <p> + “I'm Dick Drake,” he said, holding out his hand. “Richard Keen Drake, + recently with Uncle's engineers in France.” + </p> + <p> + “My name is Goodwin.” I took his hand, shook it warmly. “Dr. Walter T. + Goodwin.” + </p> + <p> + “Goodwin the botanist—? Then I know you!” he exclaimed. “Know all + about you, that is. My father admired your work greatly. You knew him—Professor + Alvin Drake.” + </p> + <p> + I nodded. So he was Alvin Drake's son. Alvin, I knew, had died about a + year before I had started on this journey. But what was his son doing in + this wilderness? + </p> + <p> + “Wondering where I came from?” he answered my unspoken question. “Short + story. War ended. Felt an irresistible desire for something different. + Couldn't think of anything more different from Tibet—always wanted + to go there anyway. Went. Decided to strike over toward Turkestan. And + here I am.” + </p> + <p> + I felt at once a strong liking for this young giant. No doubt, + subconsciously, I had been feeling the need of companionship with my own + kind. I even wondered, as I led the way into my little camp, whether he + would care to join fortunes with me in my journeyings. + </p> + <p> + His father's work I knew well, and although this stalwart lad was unlike + what one would have expected Alvin Drake—a trifle dried, precise, + wholly abstracted with his experiments—to beget, still, I reflected, + heredity like the Lord sometimes works in mysterious ways its wonders to + perform. + </p> + <p> + It was almost with awe that he listened to me instruct Chiu-Ming as to + just how I wanted supper prepared, and his gaze dwelt fondly upon the + Chinese busy among his pots and pans. + </p> + <p> + We talked a little, desultorily, as the meal was prepared—fragments + of traveler's news and gossip, as is the habit of journeyers who come upon + each other in the silent places. Ever the speculation grew in his face as + he made away with Chiu-Ming's artful concoctions. + </p> + <p> + Drake sighed, drawing out his pipe. + </p> + <p> + “A cook, a marvel of a cook. Where did you get him?” + </p> + <p> + Briefly I told him. + </p> + <p> + Then a silence fell upon us. Suddenly the sun dipped down behind the flank + of the stone giant guarding the valley's western gate; the whole vale + swiftly darkened—a flood of crystal-clear shadows poured within it. + It was the prelude to that miracle of unearthly beauty seen nowhere else + on this earth—the sunset of Tibet. + </p> + <p> + We turned expectant eyes to the west. A little, cool breeze raced down + from the watching steeps like a messenger, whispered to the nodding + poppies, sighed and was gone. The poppies were still. High overhead a + homing kite whistled, mellowly. + </p> + <p> + As if it were a signal there sprang out in the pale azure of the western + sky row upon row of cirrus cloudlets, rank upon rank of them, thrusting + their heads into the path of the setting sun. They changed from mottled + silver into faint rose, deepened to crimson. + </p> + <p> + “The dragons of the sky drink the blood of the sunset,” said Chiu-Ming. + </p> + <p> + As though a gigantic globe of crystal had dropped upon the heavens, their + blue turned swiftly to a clear and glowing amber—then as abruptly + shifted to a luminous violet A soft green light pulsed through the valley. + </p> + <p> + Under it, like hills ensorcelled, the rocky walls about it seemed to + flatten. They glowed and all at once pressed forward like gigantic slices + of palest emerald jade, translucent, illumined, as though by a circlet of + little suns shining behind them. + </p> + <p> + The light faded, robes of deepest amethyst dropped around the mountain's + mighty shoulders. And then from every snow and glacier-crowned peak, from + minaret and pinnacle and towering turret, leaped forth a confusion of soft + peacock flames, a host of irised prismatic gleamings, an ordered chaos of + rainbows. + </p> + <p> + Great and small, interlacing and shifting, they ringed the valley with an + incredible glory—as if some god of light itself had touched the + eternal rocks and bidden radiant souls stand forth. + </p> + <p> + Through the darkening sky swept a rosy pencil of living light; that + utterly strange, pure beam whose coming never fails to clutch the throat + of the beholder with the hand of ecstasy, the ray which the Tibetans name + the Ting-Pa. For a moment this rosy finger pointed to the east, then + arched itself, divided slowly into six shining, rosy bands; began to creep + downward toward the eastern horizon where a nebulous, pulsing splendor + arose to meet it. + </p> + <p> + And as we watched I heard a gasp from Drake. And it was echoed by my own. + </p> + <p> + For the six beams were swaying, moving with ever swifter motion from side + to side in ever-widening sweep, as though the hidden orb from which they + sprang were swaying like a pendulum. + </p> + <p> + Faster and faster the six high-flung beams swayed—and then broke—broke + as though a gigantic, unseen hand had reached up and snapped them! + </p> + <p> + An instant the severed ends ribboned aimlessly, then bent, turned down and + darted earthward into the welter of clustered summits at the north and + swiftly were gone, while down upon the valley fell night. + </p> + <p> + “Good God!” whispered Drake. “It was as though something reached up, broke + those rays and drew them down—like threads.” + </p> + <p> + “I saw it.” I struggled with bewilderment. “I saw it. But I never saw + anything like it before,” I ended, most inadequately. + </p> + <p> + “It was PURPOSEFUL,” he whispered. “It was DELIBERATE. As though something + reached up, juggled with the rays, broke them, and drew them down like + willow withes.” + </p> + <p> + “The devils that dwell here!” quavered Chiu-Ming. + </p> + <p> + “Some magnetic phenomenon.” I was half angry at myself for my own touch of + panic. “Light can be deflected by passage through a magnetic field. Of + course that's it. Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know.” Drake's tone was doubtful indeed. “It would take a whale + of a magnetic field to have done THAT—it's inconceivable.” He harked + back to his first idea. “It was so—so DAMNED deliberate,” he + repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Devils—” muttered the frightened Chinese. + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” Drake gripped my arm and pointed to the north. A deeper + blackness had grown there while we had been talking, a pool of darkness + against which the mountain summits stood out, blade-sharp edges faintly + luminous. + </p> + <p> + A gigantic lance of misty green fire darted from the blackness and thrust + its point into the heart of the zenith; following it, leaped into the sky + a host of the sparkling spears of light, and now the blackness was like an + ebon hand, brandishing a thousand javelins of tinseled flame. + </p> + <p> + “The aurora,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “It ought to be a good one,” mused Drake, gaze intent upon it. “Did you + notice the big sun spot?” + </p> + <p> + I shook my head. + </p> + <p> + “The biggest I ever saw. Noticed it first at dawn this morning. Some + little aurora lighter—that spot. I told you—look at that!” he + cried. + </p> + <p> + The green lances had fallen back. The blackness gathered itself together—then + from it began to pulse billows of radiance, spangled with infinite darting + swarms of flashing corpuscles like uncounted hosts of dancing fireflies. + </p> + <p> + Higher the waves rolled—phosphorescent green and iridescent violet, + weird copperous yellows and metallic saffrons and a shimmer of glittering + ash of rose—then wavered, split and formed into gigantic, sparkling, + marching curtains of splendor. + </p> + <p> + A vast circle of light sprang out upon the folds of the flickering, + rushing curtains. Misty at first, its edges sharpened until they rested + upon the blazing glory of the northern sky like a pale ring of cold flame. + And about it the aurora began to churn, to heap itself, to revolve. + </p> + <p> + Toward the ring from every side raced the majestic folds, drew themselves + together, circled, seethed around it like foam of fire about the lip of a + cauldron, and poured through the shining circle as though it were the + mouth of that fabled cavern where old Aeolus sits blowing forth and + breathing back the winds that sweep the earth. + </p> + <p> + Yes—into the ring's mouth the aurora flew, cascading in a columned + stream to earth. Then swiftly, a mist swept over all the heavens, veiled + that incredible cataract. + </p> + <p> + “Magnetism?” muttered Drake. “I guess NOT!” + </p> + <p> + “It struck about where the Ting-Pa was broken and seemed drawn down like + the rays,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Purposeful,” Drake said. “And devilish. It hit on all my nerves like a—like + a metal claw. Purposeful and deliberate. There was intelligence behind + that.” + </p> + <p> + “Intelligence? Drake—what intelligence could break the rays of the + setting sun and suck down the aurora?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Devils,” croaked Chiu-Ming. “The devils that defied Buddha—and have + grown strong—” + </p> + <p> + “Like a metal claw!” breathed Drake. + </p> + <p> + Far to the west a sound came to us; first a whisper, then a wild rushing, + a prolonged wailing, a crackling. A great light flashed through the mist, + glowed about us and faded. Again the wailing, the vast rushing, the + retreating whisper. + </p> + <p> + Then silence and darkness dropped embraced upon the valley of the blue + poppies. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. THE SIGIL ON THE ROCKS + </h2> + <p> + Dawn came. Drake had slept well. But I, who had not his youthful + resiliency, lay for long, awake and uneasy. I had hardly sunk into + troubled slumber before dawn awakened me. + </p> + <p> + As we breakfasted, I approached directly that matter which my growing + liking for him was turning into strong desire. + </p> + <p> + “Drake,” I asked. “Where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + “With you,” he laughed. “I'm foot loose and fancy free. And I think you + ought to have somebody with you to help watch that cook. He might get + away.” + </p> + <p> + The idea seemed to appall him. + </p> + <p> + “Fine!” I exclaimed heartily, and thrust out my hand to him. “I'm thinking + of striking over the range soon to the Manasarowar Lakes. There's a + curious flora I'd like to study.” + </p> + <p> + “Anywhere you say suits me,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + We clasped hands on our partnership and soon we were on our way to the + valley's western gate; our united caravans stringing along behind us. Mile + after mile we trudged through the blue poppies, discussing the enigmas of + the twilight and of the night. + </p> + <p> + In the light of day their breath of vague terror was dissipated. There was + no place for mystery nor dread under this floor of brilliant sunshine. The + smiling sapphire floor rolled ever on before us. + </p> + <p> + Whispering little playful breezes flew down the slopes to gossip for a + moment with the nodding flowers. Flocks of rose finches raced chattering + overhead to quarrel with the tiny willow warblers, the chi-u-teb-tok, + holding fief of the drooping, graceful bowers bending down to the little + laughing stream that for the past hour had chuckled and gurgled like a + friendly water baby beside us. + </p> + <p> + I had proven, almost to my own satisfaction, that what we had beheld had + been a creation of the extraordinary atmospheric attributes of these + highlands, an atmosphere so unique as to make almost anything of the kind + possible. But Drake was not convinced. + </p> + <p> + “I know,” he said. “Of course I understand all that—superimposed + layers of warmer air that might have bent the ray; vortices in the higher + levels that might have produced just that effect of the captured aurora. I + admit it's all possible. I'll even admit it's all probable, but damn me, + Doc, if I BELIEVE it! I had too clearly the feeling of a CONSCIOUS force, + a something that KNEW exactly what it was doing—and had a REASON for + it.” + </p> + <p> + It was mid-afternoon. + </p> + <p> + The spell of the valley upon us, we had gone leisurely. The western mount + was close, the mouth of the gorge through which we must pass, now plain + before us. It did not seem as though we could reach it before dusk, and + Drake and I were reconciled to spending another night in the peaceful + vale. Plodding along, deep in thought, I was startled by his exclamation. + </p> + <p> + He was staring at a point some hundred yards to his right. I followed his + gaze. + </p> + <p> + The towering cliffs were a scant half mile away. At some distant time + there had been an enormous fall of rock. This, disintegrating, had formed + a gently-curving breast which sloped down to merge with the valley's + floor. Willow and witch alder, stunted birch and poplar had found + roothold, clothed it, until only their crowding outposts, thrusting + forward in a wavering semicircle, held back seemingly by the blue hordes, + showed where it melted into the meadows. + </p> + <p> + In the center of this breast, beginning half way up its slopes and + stretching down into the flowered fields was a colossal imprint. + </p> + <p> + Gray and brown, it stood out against the green and blue of slope and + level; a rectangle all of thirty feet wide, two hundred long, the heel + faintly curved and from its hither end, like claws, four slender triangles + radiating from it like twenty-four points of a ten-rayed star. + </p> + <p> + Irresistibly was it like a footprint—but what thing was there whose + tread could leave such a print as this? + </p> + <p> + I ran up the slope—Drake already well in advance. I paused at the + base of the triangles where, were this thing indeed a footprint, the + spreading claws sprang from the flat of it. + </p> + <p> + The track was fresh. At its upper edges were clipped bushes and split + trees, the white wood of the latter showing where they had been sliced as + though by the stroke of a scimitar. + </p> + <p> + I stepped out upon the mark. It was as level as though planed; bent down + and stared in utter disbelief of what my own eyes beheld. For stone and + earth had been crushed, compressed, into a smooth, microscopically + grained, adamantine complex, and in this matrix poppies still bearing + traces of their coloring were imbedded like fossils. A cyclone can and + does grip straws and thrust them unbroken through an inch board—but + what force was there which could take the delicate petals of a flower and + set them like inlay within the surface of a stone? + </p> + <p> + Into my mind came recollection of the wailings, the crashings in the + night, of the weird glow that had flashed about us when the mist arose to + hide the chained aurora. + </p> + <p> + “It was what we heard,” I said. “The sounds—it was then that this + was made.” + </p> + <p> + “The foot of Shin-je!” Chiu-Ming's voice was tremulous. “The lord of Hell + has trodden here!” + </p> + <p> + I translated for Drake's benefit. + </p> + <p> + “Has the lord of Hell but one foot?” asked Dick, politely. + </p> + <p> + “He bestrides the mountains,” said Chiu-Ming. “On the far side is his + other footprint. Shin-je it was who strode the mountains and set here his + foot.” + </p> + <p> + Again I interpreted. + </p> + <p> + Drake cast a calculating glance up to the cliff top. + </p> + <p> + “Two thousand feet, about,” he mused. “Well, if Shin-je is built in our + proportions that makes it about right. The length of this thing would give + him just about a two thousand foot leg. Yes—he could just about + straddle that hill.” + </p> + <p> + “You're surely not serious?” I asked in consternation. + </p> + <p> + “What the hell!” he exclaimed, “am I crazy? This is no foot mark. How + could it be? Look at the mathematical nicety with which these edges are + stamped out—as though by a die— + </p> + <p> + “That's what it reminds me of—a die. It's as if some impossible + power had been used to press it down. Like—like a giant seal of + metal in a mountain's hand. A sigil—a seal—” + </p> + <p> + “But why?” I asked. “What could be the purpose—” + </p> + <p> + “Better ask where the devil such a force could be gotten together and how + it came here,” he said. “Look—except for this one place there isn't + a mark anywhere. All the bushes and the trees, all the poppies and the + grass are just as they ought to be. + </p> + <p> + “How did whoever or whatever it was that made this, get here and get away + without leaving any trace but this? Damned if I don't think Chiu-Ming's + explanation puts less strain upon the credulity than any I could offer.” + </p> + <p> + I peered about. It was so. Except for the mark, there was no slightest + sign of the unusual, the abnormal. + </p> + <p> + But the mark was enough! + </p> + <p> + “I'm for pushing up a notch or two and getting into the gorge before + dark,” he was voicing my own thought. “I'm willing to face anything human—but + I'm not keen to be pressed into a rock like a flower in a maiden's book of + poems.” Just at twilight we drew out of the valley into the pass. We + traveled a full mile along it before darkness forced us to make camp. The + gorge was narrow. The far walls but a hundred feet away; but we had no + quarrel with them for their neighborliness, no! Their solidity, their + immutability, breathed confidence back into us. + </p> + <p> + And after we had found a deep niche capable of holding the entire caravan + we filed within, ponies and all, I for one perfectly willing thus to spend + the night, let the air at dawn be what it would. We dined within on bread + and tea, and then, tired to the bone, sought each his place upon the rocky + floor. I slept well, waking only once or twice by Chiu-Ming's groanings; + his dreams evidently were none of the pleasantest. If there was an aurora + I neither knew nor cared. My slumber was dreamless. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. RUTH VENTNOR + </h2> + <p> + The dawn, streaming into the niche, awakened us. A covey of partridges + venturing too close yielded three to our guns. We breakfasted well, and a + little later were pushing on down the cleft. + </p> + <p> + Its descent, though gradual, was continuous, and therefore I was not + surprised when soon we began to come upon evidences of semi-tropical + vegetation. Giant rhododendrons and tree ferns gave way to occasional + clumps of stately kopek and clumps of the hardier bamboos. We added a few + snow cocks to our larder—although they were out of their habitat, + flying down into the gorge from their peaks and table-lands for some + choice tidbit. + </p> + <p> + All that day we marched on, and when at night we made camp, sleep came to + us quickly and overmastering. An hour after dawn we were on our way. A + brief stop we made for lunch; pressed forward. + </p> + <p> + It was close to two when we caught the first sight of the ruins. + </p> + <p> + The soaring, verdure-clad walls of the canyon had long been steadily + marching closer. Above, between their rims the wide ribbon of sky was like + a fantastically shored river, shimmering, dazzling; every cove and + headland edged with an opalescent glimmering as of shining pearly beaches. + </p> + <p> + And as though we were sinking in that sky stream's depths its light kept + lessening, darkening imperceptibly with luminous shadows of ghostly beryl, + drifting veils of pellucid aquamarine, limpid mists of glaucous + chrysolite. + </p> + <p> + Fainter, more crepuscular became the light, yet never losing its + crystalline quality. Now the high overhead river was but a brook; became a + thread. Abruptly it vanished. + </p> + <p> + We passed into a tunnel, fern walled, fern roofed, garlanded with tawny + orchids, gay with carmine fungus and golden moss. We stepped out into a + blaze of sunlight. + </p> + <p> + Before us lay a wide green bowl held in the hands of the clustered hills; + shallow, circular, as though, while plastic still, the thumb of God had + run round its rim, shaping it. Around it the peaks crowded, craning their + lofty heads to peer within. + </p> + <p> + It was about a mile in its diameter, this hollow, as my gaze then measured + it. It had three openings—one that lay like a crack in the northeast + slope; another, the tunnel mouth through which we had come. The third + lifted itself out of the bowl, creeping up the precipitous bare scarp of + the western barrier straight to the north, clinging to the ochreous rock + up and up until it vanished around a far distant shoulder. + </p> + <p> + It was a wide and bulwarked road, a road that spoke as clearly as though + it had tongue of human hands which had cut it there in the mountain's + breast. An ancient road weary beyond belief beneath the tread of uncounted + years. + </p> + <p> + From the hollow the blind soul of loneliness groped out to greet us! + </p> + <p> + Never had I felt such loneliness as that which lapped the lip of the + verdant bowl. It was tangible—as though it had been poured from some + reservoir of misery. A pool of despair— + </p> + <p> + Half the width of the valley away the ruins began. Weirdly were they its + visible expression. They huddled in two bent rows to the bottom. They + crouched in a wide cluster against the cliffs. From the cluster a curving + row of them ran along the southern crest of the hollow. + </p> + <p> + A flight of shattered, cyclopean steps lifted to a ledge and here a + crumbling fortress stood. + </p> + <p> + Irresistibly did the ruins seem a colossal hag, flung prone, lying + listlessly, helplessly, against the barrier's base. The huddled lower + ranks were the legs, the cluster the body, the upper row an outflung arm + and above the neck of the stairway the ancient fortress, rounded and with + two huge ragged apertures in its northern front was an aged, bleached and + withered head staring, watching. + </p> + <p> + I looked at Drake—the spell of the bowl was heavy upon him, his face + drawn. The Chinaman and Tibetan were murmuring, terror written large upon + them. + </p> + <p> + “A hell of a joint!” Drake turned to me, a shadow of a grin lightening the + distress on his face. “But I'd rather chance it than go back. What d'you + say?” + </p> + <p> + I nodded, curiosity mastering my oppression. We stepped over the rim, + rifles on the alert. Close behind us crowded the two servants and the + ponies. + </p> + <p> + The vale was shallow, as I have said. We trod the fragments of an olden + approach to the green tunnel so the descent was not difficult. Here and + there beside the path upreared huge broken blocks. On them I thought I + could see faint tracings as of carvings—now a suggestion of gaping, + arrow-fanged dragon jaws, now the outline of a scaled body, a hint of + enormous, batlike wings. + </p> + <p> + Now we had reached the first of the crumbling piles that stretched down + into the valley's center. + </p> + <p> + Half fainting, I fell against Drake, clutching to him for support. + </p> + <p> + A stream of utter hopelessness was racing upon us, swirling and eddying + around us, reaching to our hearts with ghostly fingers dripping with + despair. From every shattered heap it seemed to pour, rushing down the + road upon us like a torrent, engulfing us, submerging, drowning. + </p> + <p> + Unseen it was—yet tangible as water; it sapped the life from every + nerve. Weariness filled me, a desire to drop upon the stones, to be rolled + away. To die. I felt Drake's body quivering even as mine; knew that he was + drawing upon every reserve of strength. + </p> + <p> + “Steady,” he muttered. “Steady—” + </p> + <p> + The Tibetan shrieked and fled, the ponies scrambling after him. Dimly I + remembered that mine carried precious specimens; a surge of anger passed, + beating back the anguish. I heard a sob from Chiu-Ming, saw him drop. + </p> + <p> + Drake stopped, drew him to his feet. We placed him between us, thrust each + an arm through his own. Then, like swimmers, heads bent, we pushed on, + buffeting that inexplicable invisible flood. + </p> + <p> + As the path rose, its force lessened, my vitality grew, and the terrible + desire to yield and be swept away waned. Now we had reached the foot of + the cyclopean stairs, now we were half up them—and now as we + struggled out upon the ledge on which the watching fortress stood, the + clutching stream shoaled swiftly, the shoal became safe, dry land and the + cheated, unseen maelstrom swirled harmlessly beneath us. + </p> + <p> + We stood erect, gasping for breath, again like swimmers who have fought + their utmost and barely, so barely, won. + </p> + <p> + There was an almost imperceptible movement at the side of the ruined + portal. + </p> + <p> + Out darted a girl. A rifle dropped from her hands. Straight she sped + toward me. + </p> + <p> + And as she ran I recognized her. + </p> + <p> + Ruth Ventnor! + </p> + <p> + The flying figure reached me, threw soft arms around my neck, was weeping + in relieved gladness on my shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Ruth!” I cried. “What on earth are YOU doing here?” + </p> + <p> + “Walter!” she sobbed. “Walter Goodwin—Oh, thank God! Thank God!” + </p> + <p> + She drew herself from my arms, catching her breath; laughed shakily. + </p> + <p> + I took swift stock of her. Save for fear upon her, she was the same Ruth I + had known three years before; wide, deep blue eyes that were now all + seriousness, now sparkling wells of mischief; petite, rounded and tender; + the fairest skin; an impudent little nose; shining clusters of intractable + curls; all human, sparkling and sweet. + </p> + <p> + Drake coughed, insinuatingly. I introduced him. + </p> + <p> + “I—I watched you struggling through that dreadful pit.” She + shuddered. “I could not see who you were, did not know whether friend or + enemy—but oh, my heart almost died in pity for you, Walter,” she + breathed. “What can it be—THERE?” + </p> + <p> + I shook my head. + </p> + <p> + “Martin could not see you,” she went on. “He was watching the road that + leads above. But I ran down—to help.” + </p> + <p> + “Mart watching?” I asked. “Watching for what?” + </p> + <p> + “I—” she hesitated oddly. “I think I'd rather tell you before him. + It's so strange—so incredible.” + </p> + <p> + She led us through the broken portal and into the fortress. It was more + gigantic even than I had thought. The floor of the vast chamber we had + entered was strewn with fragments fallen from the crackling, stone-vaulted + ceiling. Through the breaks light streamed from the level above us. + </p> + <p> + We picked our way among the debris to a wide crumbling stairway, crept up + it, Ruth flitting ahead. We came out opposite one of the eye-like + apertures. Black against it, perched high upon a pile of blocks, I + recognized the long, lean outline of Ventnor, rifle in hand, gazing + intently up the ancient road whose windings were plain through the + opening. He had not heard us. + </p> + <p> + “Martin,” called Ruth softly. + </p> + <p> + He turned. A shaft of light from a crevice in the gap's edge struck his + face, flashing it out from the semidarkness of the corner in which he + crouched. I looked into the quiet gray eyes, upon the keen face. + </p> + <p> + “Goodwin!” he shouted, tumbling down from his perch, shaking me by the + shoulders. “If I had been in the way of praying—you're the man I'd + have prayed for. How did you get here?” + </p> + <p> + “Just wandering, Mart,” I answered. “But Lord! I'm sure GLAD to see you.” + </p> + <p> + “Which way did you come?” he asked, keenly. I threw my hand toward the + south. + </p> + <p> + “Not through that hollow?” he asked incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “And some hell of a place to get through,” Drake broke in. “It cost us our + ponies and all my ammunition.” + </p> + <p> + “Richard Drake,” I said. “Son of old Alvin—you knew him, Mart.” + </p> + <p> + “Knew him well,” cried Ventnor, seizing Dick's hand. “Wanted me to go to + Kamchatka to get some confounded sort of stuff for one of his devilish + experiments. Is he well?” + </p> + <p> + “He's dead,” replied Dick soberly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Ventnor. “Oh—I'm sorry. He was a great man.” + </p> + <p> + Briefly I acquainted him with my wanderings, my encounter with Drake. + </p> + <p> + “That place out there—” he considered us thoughtfully. “Damned if I + know what it is. Thought maybe it's gas—of a sort. If it hadn't been + for it we'd have been out of this hole two days ago. I'm pretty sure it + must be gas. And it must be much less than it was this morning, for then + we made an attempt to get through again—and couldn't.” + </p> + <p> + I was hardly listening. Ventnor had certainly advanced a theory of our + unusual symptoms that had not occurred to me. That hollow might indeed be + a pocket into which a gas flowed; just as in the mines the deadly coal + damp collects in pits, flows like a stream along the passages. It might be + that—some odorless, colorless gas of unknown qualities; and yet— + </p> + <p> + “Did you try respirators?” asked Dick. + </p> + <p> + “Surely,” said Ventnor. “First off the go. But they weren't of any use. + The gas, if it is gas, seems to operate as well through the skin as + through the nose and mouth. We just couldn't make it—and that's all + there is to it. But if you made it—could we try it now, do you + think?” he asked eagerly. + </p> + <p> + I felt myself go white. + </p> + <p> + “Not—not for a little while,” I stammered. + </p> + <p> + He nodded, understandingly. + </p> + <p> + “I see,” he said. “Well, we'll wait a bit, then.” + </p> + <p> + “But why are you staying here? Why didn't you make for the road up the + mountain? What are you watching for, anyway?” asked Drake. + </p> + <p> + “Go to it, Ruth,” Ventnor grinned. “Tell 'em. After all—it was YOUR + party you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Mart!” she cried, blushing. + </p> + <p> + “Well—it wasn't ME they admired,” he laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Martin!” she cried again, and stamped her foot. + </p> + <p> + “Shoot,” he said. “I'm busy. I've got to watch.” + </p> + <p> + “Well”—Ruth's voice was uncertain—“we'd been hunting up in + Kashmir. Martin wanted to come over somewhere here. So we crossed the + passes. That was about a month ago. The fourth day out we ran across what + looked like a road running south. + </p> + <p> + “We thought we'd take it. It looked sort of old and lost—but it was + going the way we wanted to go. It took us first into a country of little + hills; then to the very base of the great range itself; finally into the + mountains—and then it ran blank.” + </p> + <p> + “Bing!” interjected Ventnor, looking around for a moment. “Bing—just + like that. Slap dash against a prodigious fall of rock. We couldn't get + over it.” + </p> + <p> + “So we cast about to find another road,” went on Ruth. “All we could + strike were—just strikes.” + </p> + <p> + “No fish on the end of 'em,” said Ventnor. “God! But I'm glad to see you, + Walter Goodwin. Believe me, I am. However—go on, Ruth.” + </p> + <p> + “At the end of the second week,” she said, “we knew we were lost. We were + deep in the heart of the range. All around us was a forest of enormous, + snow-topped peaks. The gorges, the canyons, the valleys that we tried led + us east and west, north and south. + </p> + <p> + “It was a maze, and in it we seemed to be going ever deeper. There was not + the SLIGHTEST sign of human life. It was as though no human beings except + ourselves had ever been there. Game was plentiful. We had no trouble in + getting food. And sooner or later, of course, we were bound to find our + way out. We didn't worry. + </p> + <p> + “It was five nights ago that we camped at the head of a lovely little + valley. There was a mound that stood up like a tiny watch-tower, looking + down it. The trees grew round like tall sentinels. + </p> + <p> + “We built our fire in that mound; and after we had eaten, Martin slept. I + sat watching the beauty of the skies and of the shadowy vale. I heard no + one approach—but something made me leap to my feet, look behind me. + </p> + <p> + “A man was standing just within the glow of firelight, watching me.” + </p> + <p> + “A Tibetan?” I asked. She shook her head, trouble in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Not at all.” Ventnor turned his head. “Ruth screamed and awakened me. I + caught a glimpse of the fellow before he vanished. + </p> + <p> + “A short purple mantle hung from his shoulders. His chest was covered with + fine chain mail. His legs were swathed and bound by the thongs of his high + buskins. He carried a small, round, hide-covered shield and a short + two-edged sword. His head was helmeted. He belonged, in fact—oh, at + least twenty centuries back.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed in plain enjoyment of our amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Go on, Ruth,” he said, and took up his watch. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +“But Martin did not see his face,” she went on. “And oh, but I wish I +could forget it. It was as white as mine, Walter, and cruel, so cruel; +the eyes glowed and they looked upon me like a—like a slave dealer. +They shamed me—I wanted to hide myself. + + “I cried out and Martin awakened. As he moved, the +man stepped out of the light and was gone. I think he had not seen +Martin; had believed that I was alone. +</pre> + <p> + “We put out the fire, moved farther into the shadow of the trees. But I + could not sleep—I sat hour after hour, my pistol in my hand,” she + patted the automatic in her belt, “my rifle close beside me. + </p> + <p> + “The hours went by—dreadfully. At last I dozed. When I awakened + again it was dawn—and—and—” she covered her eyes, then: + “TWO men were looking down on me. One was he who had stood in the + firelight.” + </p> + <p> + “They were talking,” interrupted Ventnor again, “in archaic Persian.” + </p> + <p> + “Persian,” I repeated blankly; “archaic Persian?” + </p> + <p> + “Very much so,” he nodded. “I've a fair knowledge of the modern tongue, + and a rather unusual command of Arabic. The modern Persian, as you know, + comes straight through from the speech of Xerxes, of Cyrus, of Darius whom + Alexander of Macedon conquered. It has been changed mainly by taking on a + load of Arabic words. Well—there wasn't a trace of the Arabic in the + tongue they were speaking. + </p> + <p> + “It sounded odd, of course—but I could understand quite easily. They + were talking about Ruth. To be explicit, they were discussing her with + exceeding frankness—” + </p> + <p> + “Martin!” she cried wrathfully. + </p> + <p> + “Well, all right,” he went on, half repentantly. “As a matter of fact, I + had seen the pair steal up. My rifle was under my hand. So I lay there + quietly, listening. + </p> + <p> + “You can realize, Walter, that when I caught sight of those two, looking + as though they had materialized from Darius's ghostly hordes, my + scientific curiosity was aroused—prodigiously. So in my interest I + passed over the matter of their speech; not alone because I thought Ruth + asleep but also because I took into consideration that the mode of polite + expression changes with the centuries—and these gentlemen clearly + belonged at least twenty centuries back—the real truth is I was + consumed with curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “They had got to a point where they were detailing with what pleasure a + certain mysterious person whom they seemed to regard with much fear and + respect would contemplate her. I was wondering how long my desire to + observe—for to the anthropologist they were most fascinating—could + hold my hand back from my rifle when Ruth awakened. + </p> + <p> + “She jumped up like a little fury. Fired a pistol point blank at them. + Their amazement was—well—ludicrous. I know it seems + incredible, but they seemed to know nothing of firearms—they + certainly acted as though they didn't. + </p> + <p> + “They simply flew into the timber. I took a pistol shot at one but missed. + Ruth hadn't though; she had winged her man; he left a red trail behind + him. + </p> + <p> + “We didn't follow the trail. We made for the opposite direction—and + as fast as possible. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing happened that day or night. Next morning, creeping up a slope, we + caught sight of a suspicious glitter a mile or two away in the direction + we were going. We sought shelter in a small ravine. In a little while, + over the hill and half a mile away from us, came about two hundred of + these fellows, marching along. + </p> + <p> + “And they were indeed Darius's men. Men of that Persia which had been dead + for millenniums. There was no mistaking them, with their high, covering + shields, their great bows, their javelins and armor. + </p> + <p> + “They passed; we doubled. We built no fires that night—and we ought + to have turned the pony loose, but we didn't. It carried my instruments, + and ammunition, and I felt we were going to need the latter. + </p> + <p> + “The next morning we caught sight of another band—or the same. We + turned again. We stole through a tree-covered plain; we struck an ancient + road. It led south, into the peaks again. We followed it. It brought us + here. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't, as you observe, the most comfortable of places. We struck + across the hollow to the crevice—we knew nothing of the entrance you + came through. The hollow was not pleasant, either. But it was penetrable, + then. + </p> + <p> + “We crossed. As we were about to enter the cleft there issued out of it a + most unusual and disconcerting chorus of sounds—wailings, crashings, + splinterings.” + </p> + <p> + I started, shot a look at Dick; absorbed, he was drinking in Ventnor's + every word. + </p> + <p> + “So unusual, so—well, disconcerting is the best word I can think of, + that we were not encouraged to proceed. Also the peculiar unpleasantness + of the hollow was increasing rapidly. + </p> + <p> + “We made the best time we could back to the fortress. And when next we + tried to go through the hollow, to search for another outlet—we + couldn't. You know why,” he ended abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “But men in ancient armor. Men like those of Darius.” Dick broke the + silence that had followed this amazing recital. “It's incredible!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” agreed Ventnor, “isn't it. But there they were. Of course, I don't + maintain that they WERE relics of Darius's armies. They might have been of + Xerxes before him—or of Artaxerxes after him. But there they + certainly were, Drake, living, breathing replicas of exceedingly ancient + Persians. + </p> + <p> + “Why, they might have been the wall carvings on the tomb of Khosroes come + to life. I mention Darius because he fits in with the most plausible + hypothesis. When Alexander the Great smashed his empire he did it rather + thoroughly. There wasn't much sympathy for the vanquished in those days. + And it's entirely conceivable that a city or two in Alexander's way might + have gathered up a fleeting regiment or so for protection and have decided + not to wait for him, but to hunt for cover. + </p> + <p> + “Naturally, they would have gone into the almost inaccessible heart of the + high ranges. There is nothing impossible in the theory that they found + shelter at last up here. As long as history runs this has been a well-nigh + unknown land. Penetrating some mountain-guarded, easily defended valley + they might have decided to settle down for a time, have rebuilt a city, + raised a government; laying low, in a sentence, waiting for the storm to + blow over. + </p> + <p> + “Why did they stay? Well, they might have found the new life more pleasant + than the old. And they might have been locked in their valley by some + accident—landslides, rockfalls sealing up the entrance. There are a + dozen reasonable possibilities.” + </p> + <p> + “But those who hunted you weren't locked in,” objected Drake. + </p> + <p> + “No,” Ventnor grinned ruefully. “No, they certainly weren't. Maybe we + drifted into their preserves by a way they don't know. Maybe they've found + another way out. I'm sure I don't know. But I DO know what I saw.” + </p> + <p> + “The noises, Martin,” I said, for his description of these had been the + description of those we had heard in the blue valley. “Have you heard them + since?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he answered, hesitating oddly. + </p> + <p> + “And you think those—those soldiers you saw are still hunting for + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Haven't a doubt of it,” he replied more cheerfully. “They didn't look + like chaps who would give up a hunt easily—at least not a hunt for + such novel, interesting, and therefore desirable and delectable game as we + must have appeared to them.” + </p> + <p> + “Martin,” I said decisively, “where's your pony? We'll try the hollow + again, at once. There's Ruth—and we'd never be able to hold back + such numbers as you've described.” + </p> + <p> + “You feel strong enough to try it?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. METAL WITH A BRAIN + </h2> + <p> + The eagerness, the relief in his voice betrayed the tension, the anxiety + which until now he had hidden so well; and hot shame burned me for my + shrinking, my dread of again passing through that haunted vale. + </p> + <p> + “I certainly DO.” I was once more master of myself. “Drake—don't you + agree?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” he replied. “Sure. I'll look after Ruth—er—I mean Miss + Ventnor.” + </p> + <p> + The glint of amusement in Ventnor's eyes at this faded abruptly; his face + grew somber. + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” he said. “I carried away some—some exhibits from the crevice + of the noises, Goodwin.” + </p> + <p> + “What kind of exhibits?” I asked, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Put 'em where they'd be safe,” he continued. “I've an idea they're far + more curious than our armored men—and of far more importance. At any + rate, we must take them with us. + </p> + <p> + “Go with Ruth, you and Drake, and look at them. And bring them back with + the pony. Then we'll make a start. A few minutes more probably won't make + much difference—but hurry.” + </p> + <p> + He turned back to his watch. Ordering Chiu-Ming to stay with him I + followed Ruth and Drake down the ruined stairway. At the bottom she came + to me, laid little hands on my shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Walter,” she breathed, “I'm frightened. I'm so frightened I'm afraid to + tell even Mart. He doesn't like them, either, these little things you're + going to see. He likes them so little that he's afraid to let me know how + little he does like them.” + </p> + <p> + “But what are they? What's to fear about them?” asked Drake. + </p> + <p> + “See what you think!” She led us slowly, almost reluctantly toward the + rear of the fortress. “They lay in a little heap at the mouth of the cleft + where we heard the noises. Martin picked them up and dropped them in a + sack before we ran through the hollow. + </p> + <p> + “They're grotesque and they're almost CUTE, and they make me feel as + though they were the tiniest tippy-tip of the claw of some incredibly + large cat just stealing around the corner, a terrible cat, a cat as big as + a mountain,” she ended breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + We climbed through the crumbling masonry into a central, open court. Here + a clear spring bubbled up in a ruined and choked stone basin; close to the + ancient well was their pony, contentedly browsing in the thick grass that + grew around it. From one of its hampers Ruth took a large cloth bag. + </p> + <p> + “To carry them,” she said, and trembled. + </p> + <p> + We passed through what had once been a great door into another chamber + larger than that we had just left; and it was in better preservation, the + ceiling unbroken, the light dim after the blazing sun of the court. Near + its center she halted us. + </p> + <p> + Before me ran a two-feet-wide ragged crack, splitting the floor and + dropping down into black depths. Beyond was an expanse of smooth flagging, + almost clear of debris. + </p> + <p> + Drake gave a low whistle. I followed his pointing finger. In the wall at + the end whirled two enormous dragon shapes, cut in low relief. Their + gigantic wings, their monstrous coils, covered the nearly unbroken + surface, and these CHIMERAE were the shapes upon the upthrust blocks of + the haunted roadway. + </p> + <p> + In Ruth's gaze I read a nameless fear, a half shuddering fascination. + </p> + <p> + But she was not looking at the cavern dragons. + </p> + <p> + Her gaze was fixed upon what at my first glance seemed to be a raised and + patterned circle in the dust-covered floor. Not more than a foot in width, + it shone wanly with a pale, metallic bluish luster, as though, I thought, + it had been recently polished. Compared with the wall's tremendous winged + figures this floor design was trivial, ludicrously insignificant. What + could there be about it to stamp that dread upon Ruth's face? + </p> + <p> + I leaped the crevice; Dick joined me. Now I could see that the ring was + not continuous. Its broken circle was made of sharply edged cubes about an + inch in height, separated from each other with mathematical exactness by + another inch of space. I counted them—there were nineteen. + </p> + <p> + Almost touching them with their bases were an equal number of pyramids, of + tetrahedrons, as sharply angled and of similar length. They lay on their + sides with tips pointing starlike to six spheres clustered like a + conventionalized five petaled primrose in the exact center. Five of these + spheres—the petals—were, I roughly calculated, about an inch + and a half in diameter, the ball they enclosed larger by almost an inch. + </p> + <p> + So orderly was their arrangement, so much like a geometrical design nicely + done by some clever child that I hesitated to disturb it. I bent, and + stiffened, the first touch of dread upon me. + </p> + <p> + For within the ring, close to the clustering globes, was a miniature + replica of the giant track in the poppied valley! + </p> + <p> + It stood out from the dust with the same hint of crushing force, the same + die cut sharpness, the same METALLIC suggestion—and pointing toward + the globes were the claw marks of the four spreading star points. + </p> + <p> + I reached down and picked up one of the pyramids. It seemed to cling to + the rock; it was with effort that I wrenched it away. It gave to the touch + a slight sensation of warmth—how can I describe it?—a warmth + that was living. + </p> + <p> + I weighed it in my hand. It was oddly heavy, twice the weight, I should + say, of platinum. I drew out a glass and examined it. Decidedly the + pyramid was metallic, but of finest, almost silken texture—and I + could not place it among any of the known metals. It certainly was none I + had ever seen; yet it was as certainly metal. It was striated—slender + filaments radiating from tiny, dully lustrous points within the polished + surface. + </p> + <p> + And suddenly I had the weird feeling that each of these points was an eye, + peering up at me, scrutinizing me. There came a startled cry from Dick. + </p> + <p> + “Look at the ring!” + </p> + <p> + The ring was in motion! + </p> + <p> + Faster the cubes moved; faster the circle revolved; the pyramids raised + themselves, stood bolt upright on their square bases; the six rolling + spheres touched them, joined the spinning, and with sleight-of-hand + suddenness the ring drew together; its units coalesced, cubes and pyramids + and globes threading with a curious suggestion of ferment. + </p> + <p> + With the same startling abruptness there stood erect, where but a moment + before they had seethed, a little figure, grotesque; a weirdly humorous, a + vaguely terrifying foot-high shape, squared and angled and pointed and + ANIMATE—as though a child should build from nursery blocks a + fantastic shape which abruptly is filled with throbbing life. + </p> + <p> + A troll from the kindergarten! A kobold of the toys! + </p> + <p> + Only for a second it stood, then began swiftly to change, melting with + quicksilver quickness from one outline into another as square and triangle + and spheres changed places. Their shiftings were like the transformations + one sees within a kaleidoscope. And in each vanishing form was the + suggestion of unfamiliar harmonies, of a subtle, a transcendental + geometric art as though each swift shaping were a symbol, a WORD— + </p> + <p> + Euclid's problems given volition! + </p> + <p> + Geometry endowed with consciousness! + </p> + <p> + It ceased. Then the cubes drew one upon the other until they formed a + pedestal nine inches high; up this pillar rolled the larger globe, + balanced itself upon the top; the five spheres followed it, clustered like + a ring just below it. The other cubes raced up, clicked two by two on the + outer arc of each of the five balls; at the ends of these twin blocks a + pyramid took its place, tipping each with a point. + </p> + <p> + The Lilliputian fantasy was now a pedestal of cubes surmounted by a ring + of globes from which sprang a star of five arms. + </p> + <p> + The spheres began to revolve. Faster and faster they spun around the base + of the crowning globe; the arms became a disc upon which tiny brilliant + sparks appeared, clustered, vanished only to reappear in greater number. + </p> + <p> + The troll swept toward me. It GLIDED. The finger of panic touched me. I + sprang aside, and swift as light it followed, seemed to poise itself to + leap. + </p> + <p> + “Drop it!” It was Ruth's cry. + </p> + <p> + But, before I could let fall the pyramid I had forgotten was in my hand, + the little figure touched me and a paralyzing shock ran through me. My + fingers clenched, locked. I stood, muscle and nerve bound, unable to move. + </p> + <p> + The little figure paused. Its whirling disc shifted from the horizontal + plane on which it spun. It was as though it cocked its head to look up at + me—and again I had the sense of innumerable eyes peering at me. It + did not seem menacing—its attitude was inquisitive, waiting; almost + as though it had asked for something and wondered why I did not let it + have it. The shock still held me rigid, although a tingle in every nerve + told me of returning force. + </p> + <p> + The disc tilted back to place, bent toward me again. I heard a shout; + heard a bullet strike the pigmy that now clearly menaced; heard the bullet + ricochet without the slightest effect upon it. Dick leaped beside me, + raised a foot and kicked at the thing. There was a flash of light and upon + the instant he crashed down as though struck by a giant hand, lay + sprawling and inert upon the floor. + </p> + <p> + There was a scream from Ruth; there was softly sibilant rustling all about + her. I saw her leap the crevice, drop on her knees beside Drake. + </p> + <p> + There was movement on the flagging where she stood. A score or more of + faintly shining, bluish shapes were marching there—pyramids and + cubes and spheres like those forming the shape that stood before me. There + was a curious sharp tang of ozone in the air, a perceptible tightening as + of electrical tension. + </p> + <p> + They swept to the edge of the fissure, swam together, and there, hanging + half over the gap was a bridge, half spanning it, a weird and fairy arch + made up of alternate cube and angle. The shape at my feet disintegrated; + resolved itself into units that raced over to the beckoning span. + </p> + <p> + At the hither side of the crack they clicked into place, even as had the + others. Before me now was a bridge complete except for the one arc near + the middle where an angled gap marred it. + </p> + <p> + I felt the little object I held pulse within my hand, striving to escape. + I dropped it. The tiny shape swept to the bridge, ascended it—dropped + into the gap. + </p> + <p> + The arch was complete—hanging in one flying span over the depths! + </p> + <p> + Upon it, over it, as though they had but awaited this completion, rolled + the six globes. And as they dropped to the farther side the end of the + bridge nearest me raised itself in air, curved itself like a scorpion's + tail, drew itself into a closer circled arc, and dropped upon the floor + beyond. + </p> + <p> + Again the sibilant rustling—and cubes and pyramids and spheres were + gone. + </p> + <p> + Nerves tingling slowly back to life, mazed in absolute bewilderment, my + gaze sought Drake. He was sitting up, feebly, his head supported by Ruth's + hands. + </p> + <p> + “Goodwin!” he whispered. “What—what were they?” + </p> + <p> + “Metal,” I said—it was the only word to which my whirling mind could + cling—“metal—” + </p> + <p> + “Metal!” he echoed. “These things metal? Metal—ALIVE AND THINKING!” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he was silent, his face a page on which, visibly, dread gathered + slowly and ever deeper. + </p> + <p> + And as I looked at Ruth, white-faced, and at him, I knew that my own was + as pallid, as terror-stricken as theirs. + </p> + <p> + “They were such LITTLE THINGS,” muttered Drake. “Such little things—bits + of metal—little globes and pyramids and cubes—just little + THINGS.” + </p> + <p> + “Babes! Only babes!” It was Ruth—“BABES!” + </p> + <p> + “Bits of metal”—Dick's gaze sought mine, held it—“and they + looked for each other, they worked with each other—THINKINGLY, + CONSCIOUSLY—they were deliberate, purposeful—little things—and + with the force of a score of dynamos—living, THINKING—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't!” Ruth laid white hands over his eyes. “Don't—don't YOU be + frightened!” + </p> + <p> + “Frightened?” he echoed. “I'M not afraid—yes, I AM afraid—” + </p> + <p> + He arose, stiffly—and stumbled toward me. + </p> + <p> + Afraid? Drake afraid. Well—so was I. Bitterly, TERRIBLY afraid. + </p> + <p> + For what we had beheld in the dusk of that dragoned, ruined chamber was + outside all experience, beyond all knowledge or dream of science. Not + their shapes—that was nothing. Not even that, being metal, they had + moved. + </p> + <p> + But that being metal, they had moved consciously, thoughtfully, + deliberately. + </p> + <p> + They were metal things with—MINDS! + </p> + <p> + That—that was the incredible, the terrifying thing. That—and + their power. + </p> + <p> + Thor compressed within Hop-o'-my-thumb—and thinking. The lightnings + incarnate in metal minacules—and thinking. + </p> + <p> + The inert, the immobile, given volition, movement, cognoscence—thinking. + </p> + <p> + Metal with a brain! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. THE SMITING THING + </h2> + <p> + Silently we looked at each other, and silently we passed out of the + courtyard. The dread was heavy upon me. The twilight was stealing upon the + close-clustered peaks. Another hour, and their amethyst-and-purple mantles + would drop upon them; snowfields and glaciers sparkle out in irised + beauty; nightfall. + </p> + <p> + As I gazed upon them I wondered to what secret place within their brooding + immensities the little metal mysteries had fled. And to what myriads, it + might be, of their kind? And these hidden hordes—of what shapes were + they? Of what powers? Small like these, or—or— + </p> + <p> + Quick on the screen of my mind flashed two pictures, side by side—the + little four-rayed print in the great dust of the crumbling ruin and its + colossal twin on the breast of the poppied valley. + </p> + <p> + I turned aside, crept through the shattered portal and looked over the + haunted hollow. + </p> + <p> + Unbelieving, I rubbed my eyes; then leaped to the very brim of the bowl. + </p> + <p> + A lark had risen from the roof of one of the shattered heaps and had flown + caroling up into the shadowy sky. + </p> + <p> + A flock of the little willow warblers flung themselves across the valley, + scolding and gossiping; a hare sat upright in the middle of the ancient + roadway. + </p> + <p> + The valley itself lay serenely under the ambering light, smiling, peaceful—emptied + of horror! + </p> + <p> + I dropped over the side, walked cautiously down the road up which but an + hour or so before we had struggled so desperately; paced farther and + farther with an increasing confidence and a growing wonder. + </p> + <p> + Gone was that soul of loneliness; vanished the whirlpool of despair that + had striven to drag us down to death. + </p> + <p> + The bowl was nothing but a quiet, smiling lovely little hollow in the + hills. I looked back. Even the ruins had lost their sinister shape; were + time-worn, crumbling piles—nothing more. + </p> + <p> + I saw Ruth and Drake run out upon the ledge and beckon me; made my way + back to them, running. + </p> + <p> + “It's all right,” I shouted. “The place is all right.” + </p> + <p> + I stumbled up the side; joined them. + </p> + <p> + “It's empty,” I cried. “Get Martin and Chiu-Ming quick! While the way's + open—” + </p> + <p> + A rifle-shot rang out above us; another and another. From the portal + scampered Chiu-Ming, his robe tucked up about his knees. + </p> + <p> + “They come!” he gasped. “They come!” + </p> + <p> + There was a flashing of spears high up the winding mountain path. Down it + was pouring an avalanche of men. I caught the glint of helmets and + corselets. Those in the van were mounted, galloping two abreast upon + sure-footed mountain ponies. Their short swords, lifted high, flickered. + </p> + <p> + After the horsemen swarmed foot soldiers, a forest of shining points and + dully gleaming pikes above them. Clearly to us came their battlecries. + </p> + <p> + Again Ventnor's rifle cracked. One of the foremost riders went down; + another stumbled over him, fell. The rush was checked for an instant, + milling upon the road. + </p> + <p> + “Dick,” I cried, “rush Ruth over to the tunnel mouth. We'll follow. We can + hold them there. I'll get Martin. Chiu-Ming, after the pony, quick.” + </p> + <p> + I pushed the two over the rim of the hollow. Side by side the Chinaman and + I ran back through the gateway. I pointed to the animal and rushed back + into the fortress. + </p> + <p> + “Quick, Mart!” I shouted up the shattered stairway. “We can get through + the hollow. Ruth and Drake are on their way to the break we came through. + Hurry!” + </p> + <p> + “All right. Just a minute,” he called. + </p> + <p> + I heard him empty his magazine with almost machine-gun quickness. There + was a short pause, and down the broken steps he leaped, gray eyes blazing. + </p> + <p> + “The pony?” He ran beside me toward the portal. “All my ammunition is on + him.” + </p> + <p> + “Chiu-Ming's taking care of that,” I gasped. + </p> + <p> + We darted out of the gateway. A good five hundred yards away were Ruth and + Drake, running straight to the green tunnel's mouth. Between them and us + was Chiu-Ming urging on the pony. + </p> + <p> + As we sped after him I looked back. The horsemen had recovered, were now a + scant half-mile from where the road swept past the fortress. I saw that + with their swords the horsemen bore great bows. A little cloud of arrows + sparkled from them; fell far short. + </p> + <p> + “Don't look back,” grunted Ventnor. “Stretch yourself, Walter. There's a + surprise coming. Hope to God I judged the time right.” + </p> + <p> + We turned off the ruined way; raced over the sward. + </p> + <p> + “If it looks as though—we can't make it,” he panted, “YOU beat it + after the rest. I'll try to hold 'em until you get into the tunnel. Never + do for 'em to get Ruth.” + </p> + <p> + “Right.” My own breathing was growing labored, “WE'LL hold them. Drake can + take care of Ruth.” + </p> + <p> + “Good boy,” he said. “I wouldn't have asked you. It probably means death.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” I gasped, irritated. “But why borrow trouble?” + </p> + <p> + He reached out, touched me. + </p> + <p> + “You're right, Walter,” he grinned. “It does—seem—like + carrying coals—to Newcastle.” + </p> + <p> + There was a thunderous booming behind us; a shattering crash. A cloud of + smoke and dust hung over the northern end of the ruined fortress. + </p> + <p> + It lifted swiftly, and I saw that the whole side of the structure had + fallen, littering the road with its fragments. Scattered prone among these + were men and horses; others staggered, screaming. On the farther side of + this stony dike our pursuers were held like rushing waters behind a sudden + fallen tree. + </p> + <p> + “Timed to a second!” cried Ventnor. “Hold 'em for a while. Fuses and + dynamite. Blew out the whole side, right on 'em, by the Lord!” + </p> + <p> + On we fled. Chiu-Ming was now well in advance; Ruth and Dick less than + half a mile from the opening of the green tunnel. I saw Drake stop, raise + his rifle, empty it before him, and, holding Ruth by the hand, race back + toward us. + </p> + <p> + Even as he turned, the vine-screened entrance through which we had come, + through which we had thought lay safety, streamed other armored men. We + were outflanked. + </p> + <p> + “To the fissure!” shouted Ventnor. Drake heard, for he changed his course + to the crevice at whose mouth Ruth had said the—Little Things—had + lain. + </p> + <p> + After him streaked Chiu-Ming, urging on the pony. Shouting out of the + tunnel, down over the lip of the bowl, leaped the soldiers. We dropped + upon our knees, sent shot after shot into them. They fell back, hesitated. + We sprang up, sped on. + </p> + <p> + All too short was the check, but once more we held them—and again. + </p> + <p> + Now Ruth and Dick were a scant fifty yards from the crevice. I saw him + stop, push her from him toward it. She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + Now Chiu-Ming was with them. Ruth sprang to the pony, lifted from its back + a rifle. Then into the mass of their pursuers Drake and she poured a + fusillade. They huddled, wavered, broke for cover. + </p> + <p> + “A chance!” gasped Ventnor. + </p> + <p> + Behind us was a wolflike yelping. The first pack had re-formed; had + crossed the barricade the dynamite had made; was rushing upon us. + </p> + <p> + I ran as I had never known I could. Over us whined the bullets from the + covering guns. Close were we now to the mouth of the fissure. If we could + but reach it. Close, close were our pursuers, too—the arrows closer. + </p> + <p> + “No use!” said Ventnor. “We can't make it. Meet 'em from the front. Drop—and + shoot.” + </p> + <p> + We threw ourselves down, facing them. There came a triumphant shouting. + And in that strange sharpening of the senses that always goes hand in hand + with deadly peril, that is indeed nature's summoning of every reserve to + meet that peril, my eyes took them in with photographic nicety—the + linked mail, lacquered blue and scarlet, of the horsemen; brown, padded + armor of the footmen; their bows and javelins and short bronze swords, + their pikes and shields; and under their round helmets their cruel, + bearded faces—white as our own where the black beards did not cover + them; their fierce and mocking eyes. + </p> + <p> + The springs of ancient Persia's long dead power, these. Men of Xerxes's + ruthless, world-conquering hordes; the lustful, ravening wolves of Darius + whom Alexander scattered—in this world of ours twenty centuries + beyond their time! + </p> + <p> + Swiftly, accurately, even as I scanned them, we had been drilling into + them. They advanced deliberately, heedless of their fallen. Their arrows + had ceased to fly. I wondered why, for now we were well within their + range. Had they orders to take us alive—at whatever cost to + themselves? + </p> + <p> + “I've got only about ten cartridges left, Martin,” I told him. + </p> + <p> + “We've saved Ruth anyway,” he said. “Drake ought to be able to hold that + hole in the wall. He's got lots of ammunition on the pony. But they've got + us.” + </p> + <p> + Another wild shouting; down swept the pack. + </p> + <p> + We leaped to our feet, sent our last bullets into them; stood ready, + rifles clubbed to meet the rush. I heard Ruth scream— + </p> + <p> + What was the matter with the armored men? Why had they halted? What was it + at which they were glaring over our heads? And why had the rifle fire of + Ruth and Drake ceased so abruptly? + </p> + <p> + Simultaneously we turned. + </p> + <p> + Within the black background of the fissure stood a shape, an apparition, a + woman—beautiful, awesome, incredible! + </p> + <p> + She was tall, standing there swathed from chin to feet in clinging veils + of pale amber, she seemed taller even than tall Drake. Yet it was not her + height that sent through me the thrill of awe, of half incredulous terror + which, relaxing my grip, let my smoking rifle drop to earth; nor was it + that about her proud head a cloud of shining tresses swirled and pennoned + like a misty banner of woven copper flames—no, nor that through her + veils her body gleamed faint radiance. + </p> + <p> + It was her eyes—her great, wide eyes whose clear depths were like + pools of living star fires. They shone from her white face—not + phosphorescent, not merely lucent and light reflecting, but as though they + themselves were SOURCES of the cold white flames of far stars—and as + calm as those stars themselves. + </p> + <p> + And in that face, although as yet I could distinguish nothing but the + eyes, I sensed something unearthly. + </p> + <p> + “God!” whispered Ventnor. “What IS she?” + </p> + <p> + The woman stepped from the crevice. Not fifty feet from her were Ruth and + Drake and Chiu-Ming, their rigid attitudes revealing the same shock of awe + that had momentarily paralyzed me. + </p> + <p> + She looked at them, beckoned them. I saw the two walk toward her, + Chiu-Ming hang back. The great eyes fell upon Ventnor and myself. She + raised a hand, motioned us to approach. + </p> + <p> + I turned. There stood the host that had poured down the mountain road, + horsemen, spearsmen, pikemen—a full thousand of them. At my right + were the scattered company that had come from the tunnel entrance, + threescore or more. + </p> + <p> + There seemed a spell upon them. They stood in silence, like automatons, + only their fiercely staring eyes showing that they were alive. + </p> + <p> + “Quick,” breathed Ventnor. + </p> + <p> + We ran toward her who had checked death even while its jaws were closing + upon us. + </p> + <p> + Before we had gone half-way, as though our flight had broken whatever + bonds had bound them, a clamor arose from the host; a wild shouting, a + clanging of swords on shields. I shot a glance behind. They were in + motion, advancing slowly, hesitatingly as yet—but I knew that soon + that hesitation would pass; that they would sweep down upon us, engulf us. + </p> + <p> + “To the crevice,” I shouted to Drake. He paid no heed to me, nor did Ruth—their + gaze fastened upon the swathed woman. + </p> + <p> + Ventnor's hand shot out, gripped my shoulder, halted me. She had thrown up + her head. The cloudy METALLIC hair billowed as though wind had blown it. + </p> + <p> + From the lifted throat came a low, a vibrant cry; harmonious, weirdly + disquieting, golden and sweet—and laden with the eery, minor + wailings of the blue valley's night, the dragoned chamber. + </p> + <p> + Before the cry had ceased there poured with incredible swiftness out of + the crevice score upon score of the metal things. The fissures vomited + them! + </p> + <p> + Globes and cubes and pyramids—not small like those of the ruins, but + shapes all of four feet high, dully lustrous, and deep within that luster + the myriads of tiny points of light like unwinking, staring eyes. + </p> + <p> + They swirled, eddied and formed a barricade between us and the armored + men. + </p> + <p> + Down upon them poured a shower of arrows from the soldiers. I heard the + shouts of their captains; they rushed. They had courage—those men—yes! + </p> + <p> + Again came the woman's cry—golden, peremptory. + </p> + <p> + Sphere and block and pyramid ran together, seemed to seethe. I had again + that sense of a quicksilver melting. Up from them thrust a thick + rectangular column. Eight feet in width and twenty feet high, it shaped + itself. Out from its left side, from right side, sprang arms—fearful + arms that grew and grew as globe and cube and angle raced up the column's + side and clicked into place each upon, each after, the other. With magical + quickness the arms lengthened. + </p> + <p> + Before us stood a monstrous shape; a geometric prodigy. A shining angled + pillar that, though rigid, immobile, seemed to crouch, be instinct with + living force striving to be unleashed. + </p> + <p> + Two great globes surmounted it—like the heads of some two-faced + Janus of an alien world. + </p> + <p> + At the left and right the knobbed arms, now fully fifty feet in length, + writhed, twisted, straightened; flexing themselves in grotesque imitation + of a boxer. And at the end of each of the six arms the spheres were + clustered thick, studded with the pyramids—again in gigantic, awful, + parody of the spiked gloves of those ancient gladiators who fought for + imperial Nero. + </p> + <p> + For an instant it stood here, preening, testing itself like an athlete—a + chimera, amorphous yet weirdly symmetric—under the darkening sky, in + the green of the hollow, the armored hosts frozen before it— + </p> + <p> + And then—it struck! + </p> + <p> + Out flashed two of the arms, with a glancing motion, with appalling force. + They sliced into the close-packed forward ranks of the armored men; cut + out of them two great gaps. + </p> + <p> + Sickened, I saw fragments of man and horse fly. Another arm javelined from + its place like a flying snake, clicked at the end of another, became a + hundred-foot chain which swirled like a flail through the huddling mass. + Down upon a knot of the soldiers with a straight-forward blow drove a + third arm, driving through them like a giant punch. + </p> + <p> + All that host which had driven us from the ruins threw down sword, spear, + and pike; fled shrieking. The horsemen spurred their mounts, riding + heedless over the footmen who fled with them. + </p> + <p> + The Smiting Thing seemed to watch them go with—AMUSEMENT! + </p> + <p> + Before they could cover a hundred yards it had disintegrated. I heard the + little wailing sounds—then behind the fleeing men, close behind + them, rose the angled pillar; into place sprang the flexing arms, and + again it took its toll of them. + </p> + <p> + They scattered, running singly, by twos, in little groups, for the sides + of the valley. They were like rats scampering in panic over the bottom of + a great green bowl. And like a monstrous cat the shape played with them—yes, + PLAYED. + </p> + <p> + It melted once more—took new form. Where had been pillar and + flailing arms was now a tripod thirty feet high, its legs alternate globe + and cube and upon its apex a wide and spinning ring of sparkling spheres. + Out from the middle of this ring stretched a tentacle—writhing, + undulating like a serpent of steel, four score yards at least in length. + </p> + <p> + At its end cube, globe and pyramid had mingled to form a huge trident. + With the three long prongs of this trident the thing struck, swiftly, with + fearful precision—JOYOUSLY—tining those who fled, forking + them, tossing them from its points high in air. + </p> + <p> + It was, I think, that last touch of sheer horror, the playfulness of the + Smiting Thing, that sent my dry tongue to the roof of my terror-parched + mouth, and held open with monstrous fascination eyes that struggled to + close. + </p> + <p> + Ever the armored men fled from it, and ever was it swifter than they, + teetering at their heels on its tripod legs. + </p> + <p> + From half its length the darting snake streamed red rain. + </p> + <p> + I heard a sigh from Ruth; wrested my gaze from the hollow; turned. She lay + fainting in Drake's arms. + </p> + <p> + Beside the two the swathed woman stood, looking out upon that slaughter, + calm and still, shrouded with an unearthly tranquillity—viewing it, + it came to me, with eyes impersonal, cold, indifferent as the untroubled + stars which look down upon hurricane and earthquake in this world of ours. + </p> + <p> + There was a rushing of many feet at our left; a wail from Chiu-Ming. Were + they maddened by fear, driven by despair, determined to slay before they + themselves were slain? I do not know. But those who still lived of the men + from the tunnel mouth were charging us. + </p> + <p> + They clustered close, their shields held before them. They had no bows, + these men. They moved swiftly down upon us in silence—swords and + pikes gleaming. + </p> + <p> + The Smiting Thing rocked toward us, the metal tentacle straining out like + a rigid, racing serpent, flying to cut between its weird mistress and + those who menaced her. + </p> + <p> + I heard Chiu-Ming scream; saw him throw up his hands, cover his eyes—run + straight upon the pikes! + </p> + <p> + “Chiu-Ming!” I shouted. “Chiu-Ming! This way!” + </p> + <p> + I ran toward him. Before I had gone five paces Ventnor flashed by me, + revolver spitting. I saw a spear thrown. It struck the Chinaman squarely + in the breast. He tottered—fell upon his knees. + </p> + <p> + Even as he dropped, the giant flail swept down upon the soldiers. It swept + through them like a scythe through ripe grain. It threw them, broken and + torn, far toward the valley's sloping sides. It left only fragments that + bore no semblance to men. + </p> + <p> + Ventnor was at Chiu-Ming's head; I dropped beside him. There was a crimson + froth upon his lips. + </p> + <p> + “I thought that Shin-Je was about to slay us,” he whispered. “Fear blinded + me.” + </p> + <p> + His head dropped; his body quivered, lay still. + </p> + <p> + We arose, looked about us dazedly. At the side of the crevice stood the + woman, her gaze resting upon Drake, his arms about Ruth, her head hidden + on his breast. + </p> + <p> + The valley was empty—save for the huddled heaps that dotted it. + </p> + <p> + High up on the mountain path a score of figures crept, all that were left + of those who but a little before had streamed down to take us captive or + to slay. High up in the darkening heavens the lammergeiers, the winged + scavengers of the Himalayas, were gathering. + </p> + <p> + The woman lifted her hand, beckoned us once more. Slowly we walked toward + her, stood before her. The great clear eyes searched us—but no more + intently than our own wondering eyes did her. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. NORHALA OF THE LIGHTNINGS + </h2> + <p> + We looked upon a vision of loveliness such, I think, as none has beheld + since Trojan Helen was a maid. At first all I could note were the eyes, + clear as rain-washed April skies, crystal clear as some secret spring + sacred to crescented Diana. Their wide gray irises were flecked with + golden amber and sapphire—flecks that shone like clusters of little + aureate and azure stars. + </p> + <p> + Then with a strange thrill of wonder I saw that these tiny constellations + were not in the irises alone; that they clustered even within the pupils—deep + within them, like far-flung stars in the depths of velvety, midnight + heavens. + </p> + <p> + Whence had come those cold fires that had flared from them, I wondered—more + menacing, far more menacing, in their cold tranquillity than the hot + flames of wrath? These eyes were not perilous—no. Calm they were and + still—yet in them a shadow of interest flickered; a ghost of + friendliness smiled. + </p> + <p> + Above them were level, delicately penciled brows of bronze. The lips were + coral crimson and—asleep. Sweet were those lips as ever master + painter, dreaming his dream of the very soul of woman's sweetness, saw in + vision and limned upon his canvas—and asleep, nor wistful for + awakening. + </p> + <p> + A proud, straight nose; a broad low brow, and over it the masses of the + tendriling tresses—tawny, lustrous topaz, cloudy, METALLIC. Like + spun silk of ruddy copper; and misty as the wisps of cloud that Soul'tze, + Goddess of Sleep, sets in the skies of dawn to catch the wandering dreams + of lovers. + </p> + <p> + Down from the wondrous face melted the rounded column of her throat to + merge into exquisite curves of shoulders and breasts, half revealed + beneath the swathing veils. + </p> + <p> + But upon that face, within her eyes, kissing her red lips and clothing her + breasts, was something unearthly. + </p> + <p> + Something that came straight out of the still mysteries of the star-filled + spaces; out of the ordered, the untroubled, the illimitable void. + </p> + <p> + A passionless spirit that watched over the human passion in the scarlet + mouth, in every slumbering, sculptured line of her—guarding her + against its awakening. + </p> + <p> + Twilight calm dropping down from the sun sleep to still the restless + mountain tarn. Ishtar dreamlessly asleep within Nirvana. + </p> + <p> + Something not of this world we know—and yet of it as the winds of + the Cosmos are to the summer breeze, the ocean to the wave, the lightnings + to the glowworm. + </p> + <p> + “She isn't—human,” I heard Ventnor whispering at my ear. “Look at + her eyes; look at the skin of her—” + </p> + <p> + Her skin was white as milk of pearls; gossamer fine, silken and creamy; + translucent as though a soft brilliancy dwelt within it. Beside it Ruth's + fair skin was like some sun-and-wind-roughened country lass's to + Titania's. + </p> + <p> + She studied us as though she were seeing for the first time beings of her + own kind. She spoke—and her voice was elfin distant, chimingly sweet + like hidden little golden bells; filled with that tranquil, far off spirit + that was part of her—as though indeed a tiny golden chime should + ring out from the silences, speak for them, find tongues for them. The + words were hesitating, halting as though the lips that uttered them found + speech strange—as strange as the clear eyes found our images. + </p> + <p> + And the words were Persian—purest, most ancient Persian. + </p> + <p> + “I am Norhala,” the golden voice chimed forth, whispered down into + silence. “I am Norhala.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head impatiently. A hand stole forth from beneath her veils, + slender, long-fingered with nails like rosy pearls; above the wrist was + coiled a golden dragon with wicked little crimson eyes. The slender white + hand touched Ruth's head, turned it until the strange, flecked orbs looked + directly into the misty ones of blue. + </p> + <p> + Long they gazed—and deep. Then she who had named herself Norhala + thrust out a finger, touched the tear that hung upon Ruth's curled lashes, + regarded it wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + Something of recognition, of memory, seemed to awaken within her. + </p> + <p> + “You are—troubled?” she asked with that halting effort. + </p> + <p> + Ruth shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “THEY—do not trouble you?” + </p> + <p> + She pointed to the huddled heaps strewing the hollow. And then I saw + whence the light which had streamed from her great eyes came. For the + little azure and golden stars paled, trembled, then flashed out like + galaxies of tiny, clustered silver suns. + </p> + <p> + From that weird radiance Ruth shrank, affrighted. + </p> + <p> + “No—no,” she gasped. “I weep for—HIM.” + </p> + <p> + She pointed where Chiu-Ming lay, a brown blotch at the edge of the + shattered men. + </p> + <p> + “For—him?” There was puzzlement in the faint voice. “For—that? + But why?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at Chiu-Ming—and I knew that to her the sight of the + crumpled form carried no recognition of the human, nothing of kin to her. + There was a faint wonder in her eyes, no longer light-filled, when at last + she turned back to us. Long she considered us. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” she broke the silence, “now something stirs within me that it seems + has long been sleeping. It bids me take you with me. Come!” + </p> + <p> + Abruptly she turned from us, glided to the crevice. We looked at each + other, seeking council, decision. + </p> + <p> + “Chiu-Ming,” Drake spoke. “We can't leave him like that. At least let's + cover him from the vultures.” + </p> + <p> + “Come.” The woman had reached the mouth of the fissure. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid! Oh, Martin—I'm afraid.” Ruth reached little trembling + hands to her tall brother. + </p> + <p> + “Come!” Norhala called again. There was an echo of harshness, a clanging, + peremptory and inexorable, in the chiming. + </p> + <p> + Ventnor shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Come, then,” he said. + </p> + <p> + With one last look at the Chinese, the lammergeiers already circling about + him, we walked to the crevice. Norhala waited, silent, brooding until we + passed her; then glided behind us. + </p> + <p> + Before we had gone ten paces I saw that the place was no fissure. It was a + tunnel, a passage hewn by human hands, its walls covered with the writhing + dragon lines, its roof the mountain. + </p> + <p> + The swathed woman swept by us. Swiftly we followed her. Far, far ahead was + a wan gleaming. It quivered, a faintly shimmering, ghostly curtain, a full + mile away. + </p> + <p> + Now it was close; we passed through it and were out of the tunnel. Before + us stretched a narrow gorge, a sword slash in the body of the towering + giant under whose feet the tunnel crept. High above was the ribbon of the + sky. + </p> + <p> + The sides were dark, but it came to me that here were no trees, no verdure + of any kind. Its floor was strewn with boulders, fantastically shaped, + almost indistinguishable in the fast closing dark. + </p> + <p> + Twin monoliths bulwarked the passage end; the gigantic stones were + leaning, crumbling. Fissures radiated from the opening, like deep wrinkles + in the rock, showing where earth warping, range pressure, had long been + working to close this hewn way. + </p> + <p> + “Stop,” Norhala's abrupt, golden note halted us; and again through the + clear eyes I saw the white starshine flash. + </p> + <p> + “It may be well—” She spoke as though to herself. “It may be well to + close this way. It is not needed—” + </p> + <p> + Her voice rang out again, vibrant, strangely disquieting, harmonious. + Murmurous chanting it was at first, rhythmic and low; ripples and + flutings, tones and progressions utterly unknown to me; unfamiliar, + abrupt, and alien themes that kept returning, droppings of crystal-clear + jewels of sound, golden tollings—and all ordered, mathematical, + GEOMETRIC, even as had been the gestures of the shapes; Lilliputians of + the ruins, Brobdignagian of the haunted hollow. + </p> + <p> + What was it? I had it—IT WAS THOSE GESTURES TRANSFORMED INTO SOUND! + </p> + <p> + There was a movement down by the tunnel mouth. It grew more rapid, seemed + to vibrate with her song. Within the darkness there were little flashes; + glimmerings of light began to come and go—like little awakenings of + eyes of soft, jeweled flames, like giant gorgeous fireflies; flashes of + cloudy amber, gleam of rose, sparkles of diamonds and of opals, of + emeralds and of rubies—blinking, gleaming. + </p> + <p> + A shimmering mist drew down around them—a swift and swirling mist. + It thickened, was shot with slender shuttled threads like cobweb, + coruscating strands of light. + </p> + <p> + The shining threads grew thicker, pulsed, were spangled with tiny vivid + sparklings. They ran together, condensed—and all this in an instant, + in a tenth of the time it takes me to write it. + </p> + <p> + From fiery mist and gemmed flashes came bolt upon bolt of lightning. The + cliff face leaped out, a cataract of green flame. The fissures widened, + the monoliths trembled, fell. + </p> + <p> + In the wake of that dazzling brilliancy came utter blackness. I opened my + blinded eyes; slowly the flecks of green fire cleared. A faint lambency + still clung to the cliff. By it I saw that the tunnel's mouth had + vanished, had been sealed—where it had gaped were only tons of + shattered rock. + </p> + <p> + Came a rushing past us as of great bodies; something grazed my hand, + something whose touch was like that of warm metal—but metal + throbbing with life. They rushed by—and whispered down into silence. + </p> + <p> + “Come!” Norhala flitted ahead of us, a faintly luminous shape in the + darkness. Swiftly we followed. I found Ruth beside me; felt her hand grip + my wrist. + </p> + <p> + “Walter,” she whispered, “Walter—she isn't human!” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense,” I muttered. “Nonsense, Ruth. What do you think she is—a + goddess, a spirit of the Himalayas? She's as human as you or I.” + </p> + <p> + “No.” Even in the darkness I could sense the stubborn shake of her curly + head. “Not all human. Or how could she have commanded those things? Or + have summoned the lightnings that blasted the tunnel's mouth? And her skin + and hair—they're too WONDERFUL, Walter. + </p> + <p> + “Why, she makes me look—look coarse. And the light that hovers about + her—why, it is by that light we are making our way. And when she + touched me—I—I glowed—all through. + </p> + <p> + “Human, yes—but there is something else in her—something + stronger than humanness, something that—makes it sleep!” she added + astonishingly. + </p> + <p> + The ground was level as a dancing floor. We followed the enigmatic glow—emanation, + it seemed to me—from Norhala which was as a light for us to follow + within the darkness. The high ribbon of sky had vanished—seemed to + be overcast, for I could see no stars. + </p> + <p> + Within the darkness I began again to sense faint movement; soft stirring + all about us. I had the feeling that on each side and behind us moved an + invisible host. + </p> + <p> + “There's something moving all about us—going with us,” Ruth echoed + my thought. + </p> + <p> + “It's the wind,” I said, and paused—for there was no wind. + </p> + <p> + From the blackness before us came a succession of curious, muffled + clickings, like a smothered mitrailleuse. The luminescence that clothed + Norhala brightened, deepening the darkness. + </p> + <p> + “Cross!” + </p> + <p> + She pointed into the void ahead; then, as we started forward, thrust out a + hand to Ruth, held her back. Drake and Ventnor drew close to them, + questioningly, anxious. But I stepped forward, out of the dim gleaming. + </p> + <p> + Before me were two cubes; one I judged in that uncertain light to be six + feet high, the other half its bulk. From them a shaft of pale-blue + phosphorescence pierced the murk. They stood, the smaller pressed against + the side of the larger, for all the world like a pair of immense nursery + blocks, placed like steps by some giant child. + </p> + <p> + As my eyes swept over them, I saw that the shining shaft was an unbroken + span of cubes; not multi-arched like the Lilliputian bridge of the dragon + chamber, but flat and running out over an abyss that gaped at my very + feet. All of a hundred feet they stretched; a slender, lustrous girder + crossing unguessed depths of gloom. From far, far below came the faint + whisper of rushing waters. + </p> + <p> + I faltered. For these were the blocks that had formed the body of the + monster of the hollow, its flailing arms. The thing that had played so + murderously with the armored men. + </p> + <p> + And now had shaped itself into this anchored, quiescent bridge. + </p> + <p> + “Do not fear.” It was the woman speaking, softly, as one would reassure a + child. “Ascend. Cross. They obey me.” + </p> + <p> + I stepped firmly upon the first block, climbed to the second. The span + stretched, sharp edged, smooth, only a slender, shimmering line revealing + where each great cube held fast to the other. + </p> + <p> + I walked at first slowly, then with ever-increasing confidence, for up + from the surface streamed a guiding, a holding force, that was like a host + of little invisible hands, steadying me, keeping firm my feet. I looked + down; the myriads of enigmatic eyes were staring, staring up at me from + deep within. They fascinated me; I felt my pace slowing; a vertigo seized + me. Resolutely I dragged my gaze up and ahead; marched on. + </p> + <p> + From the depths came more clearly the sound of the waters. Now there were + but a few feet more of the bridge before me. I reached its end, dropped my + feet over, felt them touch a smaller cube, and descended. + </p> + <p> + Over the span came Ventnor. He was leading his laden pony. He had bandaged + its eyes so that it could not look upon the narrow way it was treading. + And close behind, a hand resting reassuringly upon its flank, strode + Drake, swinging along carelessly. The little beast ambled along serenely, + sure-footed as all its mountain kind, and docile to darkness and guidance. + </p> + <p> + Then, an arm about Ruth, floated Norhala. Now she was beside us; dropped + her arm from Ruth; glided past us. On for a hundred yards or more we went, + and then she drew us a little toward the unseen canyon wall. + </p> + <p> + She stood before us, shielding us. One golden call she sent. + </p> + <p> + I looked back into the darkness. Something like an enormous, dimly + shimmering rod was raising itself. Higher it rose and higher. Now it + stood, upright, a slender towering pillar, a gigantic slim figure whose + tip pointed a full hundred feet in the air. + </p> + <p> + Then slowly it inclined itself toward us; drew closer, closer to the + ground; touched and lay there for an instant inert. Abruptly it vanished. + </p> + <p> + But well I knew what I had seen. The span over which we had passed had + raised itself even as had the baby bridge of the fortress; had lifted + itself across the chasm and dropping itself upon the hither verge had + disintegrated into its units; was following us. + </p> + <p> + A bridge of metal that could build itself—and break itself. A + thinking, conscious metal bridge! A metal bridge with volition—with + mind—that was following us. + </p> + <p> + There sighed from behind a soft, sustained wailing; rapidly it neared us. + A wanly glimmering shape drew by; halted. It was like a rigid serpent cut + from a gigantic square bar of cold blue steel. + </p> + <p> + Its head was a pyramid, a tetrahedron; its length vanished in the further + darkness. The head raised itself, the blocks that formed its neck + separating into open wedges like a Brobdignagian replica of those jointed, + fantastic, little painted reptiles the Japanese toy-makers cut from wood. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to regard us—mockingly. The pointed head dropped—past + us streamed the body. Upon it other pyramids clustered—like the + spikes that guarded the back of the nightmare Brontosaurus. Its end came + swiftly into sight—its tail another pyramid twin to its head. + </p> + <p> + It FLIRTED by—gaily; vanished. + </p> + <p> + I had thought the span must disintegrate to follow—and it did not + need to! It could move as a COMPOSITE as well as in UNITS. Move + intelligently, consciously—as the Smiting Thing had moved. + </p> + <p> + “Come!” Norhala's command checked my thoughts; we fell in behind her. + Looking up I caught the friendly sparkle of a star; knew the cleft was + widening. + </p> + <p> + The star points grew thicker. We stepped out into a valley small as that + hollow from which we had fled; ringed like it with heaven-touching + summits. I could see clearly. The place was suffused with a soft radiance + as though into it the far, bright stars were pouring all their rays, + filling it as a cup with their pale flames. + </p> + <p> + It was luminous as the Alaskan valleys when on white arctic nights they + are lighted, the Athabascans believe, by the gleaming spears of hunting + gods. The walls of the valley seemed to be drawn back into infinite + distances. + </p> + <p> + The shimmering mists that had nimbused Norhala had vanished—or + merging into the wan gleaming had become one with it. + </p> + <p> + I stared straight at her, striving to clarify in my own clouded thought + what it was that I had sensed as inhuman—never of OUR world or its + peoples. Yet this conviction came not because of the light that had + hovered about her, nor of her summonings of the lightnings; nor even of + her control of those—things—which had smitten the armored men + and spanned for us the abyss. + </p> + <p> + All of that I was certain lay in the domain of the explicable, could be + resolved into normality once the basic facts were gained. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, I knew. Side by side with what we term the human there dwelt + within this woman an actual consciousness foreign to earth, passionless, + at least as we know passion, ordered, mathematical—an emanation of + the eternal law which guides the circling stars. + </p> + <p> + This it was that had moved in the gestures which had evoked the + lightnings. This it was that had spoken in the song which were those + gestures transformed into sound. This it was that something greater than + my consciousness knew and accepted. + </p> + <p> + Something which shared, no—that reigned, serene and untroubled, upon + the throne of her mind; something utterly UNCOMPREHENDING, utterly + unconscious OF, cosmically blind TO all human emotion; that spread itself + like a veil over her own consciousness; that PLATED her thought—that + was a strange word—why had it come to me—something that had + set its mark upon her like—like—the gigantic claw print on the + poppied field, the little print of the dragoned hall. + </p> + <p> + I caught at my mind, whirling I thought then in the grip of fantasy; + strove by taking minute note of her to bring myself back to normal. + </p> + <p> + Her veils had slipped from her, baring her neck, her arms, the right + shoulder. Under the smooth throat a buckle of dull gold held the sheer, + diaphanous folds of the pale amber silk which swathed the high and rounded + breasts, hiding no goddess curve of them. + </p> + <p> + A wide and golden girdle clasped the waist, covered the rounded hips and + thighs. The long, narrow, and high-arched feet were shod with golden + sandals, laced just below the rounded knees with flat turquoise studded + bands. + </p> + <p> + And shining through the amber folds, as glowing above them, the miracle of + her body. + </p> + <p> + The dream of master sculptor given life. A goddess of earth's youth reborn + in Himalayan wilds. + </p> + <p> + She raised her eyes; broke the long silence. + </p> + <p> + “Now being with you,” she said dreamily, “there waken within me old + thoughts, old wisdom, old questioning—all that I had forgotten and + thought forgotten forever—” + </p> + <p> + The golden voice died—she who had spoken was gone from us, like the + fading out of a phantom; like the breaking of a film. + </p> + <p> + A flicker shot over the skies, another and another. A brilliant ray of + intense green like that of a distant searchlight swept to the zenith, hung + for a moment and withdrew. Up came pouring the lances and the streamers of + the aurora; faster and faster, banners and slender shining spears of green + and iridescent blues and smoky, glistening reds. + </p> + <p> + The valley sprang into full view. + </p> + <p> + I felt Ventnor's grip upon my wrist. I followed his pointing finger. Into + the valley from the right ran a black spur of rock, half a mile from us, + fifty feet high. + </p> + <p> + Upon its crest stood—Norhala! + </p> + <p> + Her arms were lifted to the sparkling sky; her braids were loosened—and + as the fires of the aurora rose and fell, raced and were still, the silken + cloud of her tresses swirled and eddied with them. Little clouds of + coruscations danced gaily like fireflies about and through it. + </p> + <p> + And all her bared body was outlined in living light, glowed and throbbed + with light—light filled her like a vessel, she bathed in it. She + thrust arms through the streaming, flaming locks; held them out from her, + prisoned. She swayed slowly, rhythmically; like a faint, golden chiming + came the echo of her song. + </p> + <p> + Abruptly around her, half circling her on the black spur, gleamed myriads + of gem fires. Flares and flames of pale emerald, steady glowing of flame + rubies, glints and lambencies of deepest sapphire, of wan sapphire, + flickering opalescences, irised glitterings. A moment they gleamed. Then + from them came bolt upon bolt of lightning—lightning that darted + upon the lovely shape swaying there; lightnings that fell upon her, broke + and dashed, cascading, from her radiant body. + </p> + <p> + The lightnings bathed her—she bathed in them. + </p> + <p> + The skies were covered by a swift mist. The aurora was veiled. + </p> + <p> + The valley filled with a palely shimmering radiance which dropped like + veils upon it, hiding all within it. Hiding within fold upon luminous fold—Norhala! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. THE SHAPES IN THE MIST + </h2> + <h3> + Mutely we faced each other, white and wan in the ghostly light. + </h3> + <p> + The valley was very still; as silent as though sound had been withdrawn + from it. The shimmering radiance suffusing it had thickened perceptibly; + hovered over the valley floor faintly sparkling mists; hid it. + </p> + <p> + Like a shroud was that silence. Beneath it my mind struggled, its unease, + its forebodings growing ever stronger. Silently we repacked the + saddlebags; girthed the pony; silently we waited for Norhala's return. + </p> + <p> + Idly I had noted that the place on which we stood must be raised above the + level of the vale. Up toward us the gathering mists had been steadily + rising; still was their wavering crest a half score feet below us. + </p> + <p> + Abruptly out of their dim nebulosity a faintly phosphorescent square + broke. It lifted, slowly; then swept, a dully lustrous six-foot cube, up + the slope and came to rest almost at our feet. It dwelt there; + contemplated us from its myriads of deep-set, sparkling striations. + </p> + <p> + In its wake swam, one by one, six others—their tops raising from the + vapors like the first, watchfully; like shimmering backs of sea monsters; + like turrets of fantastic angled submarines from phosphorescent seas. One + by one they skimmed swiftly over the ledge; and one by one they nestled, + edge to edge and alternately, against the cube which had gone before. + </p> + <p> + In a crescent, they stretched before us. Back from them, a pace, ten + paces, twenty, we retreated. + </p> + <p> + They lay immobile—staring at us. + </p> + <p> + Cleaving the mists, silk of copper hair streaming wide, unearthly eyes + lambent, floated up behind them—Norhala. For an instant she was + hidden behind their bulk; suddenly was upon them; drifted over them like + some spirit of light; stood before us. + </p> + <p> + Her veils were again about her; golden girdle, sandals of gold and + turquoise in their places. Pearl white her body gleamed; no mark of + lightning marred it. + </p> + <p> + She walked toward us, turned and faced the watching cubes. She uttered no + sound, but as at a signal the central cube slid forward, halted before + her. She rested a hand upon its edge. + </p> + <p> + “Ride with me,” she said to Ruth. + </p> + <p> + “Norhala.” Ventnor took a step forward. “Norhala, we must go with her. And + this”—he pointed to the pony—“must go with us.” + </p> + <p> + “I meant—you—to come,” the faraway voice chimed, “but I had + not thought of—that.” + </p> + <p> + A moment she considered; then turned to the six waiting cubes. Again as at + a command four of the things moved, swirled in toward each other with a + weird precision, with a monstrous martial mimicry; joined; stood before + us, a platform twelve feet square, six high. + </p> + <p> + “Mount,” sighed Norhala. + </p> + <p> + Ventnor looked helplessly at the sheer front facing him. + </p> + <p> + “Mount.” There was half-wondering impatience in her command. “See!” + </p> + <p> + She caught Ruth by the waist and with the same bewildering swiftness with + which she had vanished from us when the aurora beckoned she stood, holding + the girl, upon the top of the single cube. It was as though the two had + been lifted, had been levitated with an incredible rapidity. + </p> + <p> + “Mount,” she murmured again, looking down upon us. + </p> + <p> + Slowly Ventnor began to bandage the pony's eyes. I placed my hand upon the + edge of the quadruple; sprang. A myriad unseen hands caught me, raised me, + set me instantaneously on the upward surface. + </p> + <p> + “Lift the pony to me,” I called to Ventnor. + </p> + <p> + “Lift it?” he echoed, incredulously. + </p> + <p> + Drake's grin cut like a sunray through the nightmare dread that shrouded + my mind. + </p> + <p> + “Catch,” he called; placed one hand beneath the beast's belly, the other + under its throat; his shoulders heaved—and up shot the pony, laden + as it was, landed softly upon four wide-stretched legs beside me. The + faces of the two gaped up, ludicrous in their amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Follow,” cried Norhala. + </p> + <p> + Ventnor leaped wildly for the top, Drake beside him; in the flash of a + humming-bird's wing they were gripping me, swearing feebly. The unseen + hold angled; struck upward; clutched from ankle to thigh; held us fast—men + and beast. + </p> + <p> + Away swept the block that bore Ruth and Norhala; I saw Ruth crouching, + head bent, her arms around the knees of the woman. They slipped into the + mists; vanished. + </p> + <p> + And after them, like a log in a racing current, we, too, dipped beneath + the faintly luminous vapors. + </p> + <p> + The cubes moved with an entire absence of vibration; so smoothly and + skimmingly, indeed, that had it not been for the sudden wind that had + risen when first we had stirred, and that now beat steadily upon our + faces, and the cloudy walls streaming by, I would have thought ourselves + at rest. + </p> + <p> + I saw the blurred form of Ventnor drift toward the forward edge. He walked + as though wading. I essayed to follow him; my feet I could not lift; I + could advance only by gliding them as though skating. + </p> + <p> + Also the force, whatever it was, that held me seemed to pass me on from + unseen clutch to clutch; it was as though up to my hips I moved through a + closely woven yet fluid mass of cobwebs. I had the fantastic idea that if + I so willed I could slip over the edge of the blocks, crawl about their + sides without falling—like a fly on the vertical faces of a huge + sugar loaf. + </p> + <p> + I drew beside Ventnor. He was staring ahead, striving, I knew, to pierce + the mists for some glimpse of Ruth. + </p> + <p> + He turned to me, his face drawn with anxiety, his eyes feverish. + </p> + <p> + “Can you see them, Walter?” His voice shook. “God—why did I ever let + her go like that? Why did I let her go alone?” + </p> + <p> + “They'll be close ahead, Martin.” I spoke out of a conviction I could not + explain. “Whatever it is we're bound for, wherever it is the woman's + taking us, she means to keep us together—for a time at least. I'm + sure of it.” + </p> + <p> + “She said—follow.” It was Drake beside us. “How the hell can we do + anything else? We haven't any control over this bird we're on. But she + has. What she meant, Ventnor, is that it would follow her.” + </p> + <p> + “That's true”—new hope softened the haggard face—“that's true—but + is it? We're reckoning with creatures that man's imagination never + conceived—nor could conceive. And with this—woman—human + in shape, yes, but human in thought—never. How then can we tell—” + </p> + <p> + He turned once more, all his consciousness concentrated in his searching + eyes. + </p> + <p> + Drake's rifle slipped from his hand. + </p> + <p> + He stooped to pick it up; then tugged with both hands. The rifle lay + immovable. + </p> + <p> + I bent and strove to aid him. For all the pair of us could do, the rifle + might have been a part of the gleaming surface on which it rested. The + tiny, deepset star points winked up— + </p> + <p> + “They're—laughing at us!” grunted Drake. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense,” I answered, and tried to check the involuntary shuddering that + shook me, as I saw it shake him. “Nonsense. These blocks are great magnets—that's + what holds the rifle; what holds us, too.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't mean the rifle,” he said; “I mean those points of lights—the + eyes—” + </p> + <p> + There came from Ventnor a cry of almost anguished relief. We straightened. + Our head shot above the mists like those of swimmers from water. + Unnoticed, we had been climbing out of them. + </p> + <p> + And a hundred yards ahead of us, cleaving them, veiled in them almost to + the shoulders, was Norhala, red-gold tresses steaming; and close beside + her were the brown curls of Ruth. At her brother's cry she turned and her + arm flashed out of the veils with reassuring gesture. + </p> + <p> + A mile away was an opening in the valley's mountainous wall; toward it we + were speeding. It was no ragged crevice, no nature split fissure; it gave + the impression of a gigantic doorway. + </p> + <p> + “Look,” whispered Drake. + </p> + <p> + Between us and the vast gateway, gleaming triangles began to break through + the vapors, like the cutting fins of sharks, glints of round bodies like + gigantic porpoises—the vapors seethed with them. Quickly the fins + and rolling curves were all about us. They centered upon the portal, + streamed through—a horde of the metal things, leading us, guarding + us, playing about us. + </p> + <p> + And weird, unutterably weird was that spectacle—the vast and silent + vale with its still, smooth vapors like a coverlet of cloud; the regal + head of Norhala sweeping over them; the dull glint and gleam of the metal + paradoxes flowing, in ordered motion, all about us; the titanic gateway, + glowing before us. + </p> + <p> + We were at its threshold; over it. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. THE DRUMS OF THUNDER + </h2> + <p> + Upon that threshold the mists foamed like breaking billows, then ceased + abruptly to be. Keeping exactly the distance I had noted when our gaze had + risen above the fog, glided the block that bore Ruth and Norhala. In the + strange light of the place into which we had emerged—and whether + that place was canyon, corridor, or tunnel I could not then determine—it + stood out sharply. + </p> + <p> + One arm of Norhala held Ruth—and in her attitude I sensed a + shielding intent, guardianship—the first really human impulse this + shape of mystery and beauty had revealed. + </p> + <p> + In front of them swept score upon score of her familiars—no longer + dully lustrous, but shining as though cut from blue and polished steel. + They—marched—in ordered rows, globes and cubes and pyramids; + moving sedately now as units. + </p> + <p> + I looked behind me; out of the spume boiling at the portal, were pouring + forth other scores of the Metal Things, darting through like divers + through a wave. And as they drew into our wake and swam into the light, + their dim lustre vanished like a film; their surfaces grew almost radiant. + </p> + <p> + Whence came the light that set them gleaming? Our pace had slackened—I + looked about me. The walls of the cleft or tunnel were perpendicular, + smooth and shining with a cold, metallic, greenish glow. + </p> + <p> + Between the walls, like rhythmic flashing of fire-flies, pulsed soft and + fugitive glimmerings that carried a sense of the infinitely minute—of + electrons, it came to me, rather than atoms. Their irradiance was + greenish, like the walls; but I was certain that these corpuscles did not + come from them. + </p> + <p> + They blinked and faded like motes within a shifting sunbeam; or, to use a + more scientific comparison, like colloids within the illuminated field of + the ultramicroscope; and like these latter it was as though the eyes took + in not the minute particles themselves but their movement only. + </p> + <p> + Save for these gleamings the light of the place, although crepuscular, was + crystalline clear. High above us—five hundred, a thousand feet—the + walls merged into a haze of clouded beryl. + </p> + <p> + Rock certainly the cliffs were—but rock cut and planed, smoothed and + polished and PLATED! + </p> + <p> + Yes, that was it—plated. Plated with some metallic substance that + was itself a reservoir of luminosity and from which, it came to me, pulsed + the force that lighted the winking ions. But who could have done such a + thing? For what purpose? How? + </p> + <p> + And the meticulousness, the perfection of these smoothed cliffs struck + over my nerves as no rasp could, stirring a vague resentment, an irritated + desire for human inharmonies, human disorder. + </p> + <p> + Absorbed in my examination I had forgotten those who must share with me my + doubts and dangers. I felt a grip on my arm. + </p> + <p> + “If we get close enough and I can get my feet loose from this damned thing + I'll jump,” Drake said. + </p> + <p> + “What?” I gasped, blankly, startled out of my preoccupation. “Jump where?” + </p> + <p> + I followed his pointing finger. We were rapidly closing upon the other + cube; it was now a scant twenty paces ahead; it seemed to be stopping. + Ventnor was leaning forward, quivering with eagerness. + </p> + <p> + “Ruth!” he called. “Ruth—are you all right?” + </p> + <p> + Slowly she turned to us—my heart gave a great leap, then seemed to + stop. For her sweet face was touched with that same unearthly tranquillity + which was Norhala's; in her brown eyes was a shadow of that passionless + spirit brooding in Norhala's own; her voice as she answered held within it + more than echo of Norhala's faint, far-off golden chiming. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she sighed; “yes, Martin—have no fear for me—” + </p> + <p> + And turned from us, gazing forward once more with the woman and as silent + as she. + </p> + <p> + I glanced covertly at Ventnor, at Drake—had I imagined, or had they + too seen? Then I knew they had seen, for Ventnor's face was white to the + lips, and Drake's jaw was set, his teeth clenched, his eyes blazing with + anger. + </p> + <p> + “What's she doing to Ruth—you saw her face,” he gritted, half + inarticulately. + </p> + <p> + “Ruth!” There was anguish in Ventnor's cry. + </p> + <p> + She did not turn again. It was as though she had not heard him. + </p> + <p> + The cubes were now not five yards apart. Drake gathered himself; strained + to loosen his feet from the shining surface, making ready to leap when + they should draw close enough. His great chest swelled with his effort, + the muscles of his neck knotted, sweat steamed down his face. + </p> + <p> + “No use,” he gasped, “no use, Goodwin. It's like trying to lift yourself + by your boot-straps—like a fly stuck in molasses.” + </p> + <p> + “Ruth,” cried Ventnor once more. + </p> + <p> + As though it had been a signal the block darted forward, resuming the + distance it had formerly maintained between us. + </p> + <p> + The vanguard of the Metal Things began to race. With an incredible speed + they fled into, were lost in an instant within, the luminous distances. + </p> + <p> + The cube that bore the woman and girl accelerated; flew faster and faster + onward. And as swiftly our own followed it. The lustrous walls flowed by, + dizzily. + </p> + <p> + We had swept over toward the right wall of the cleft and were gliding over + a broad ledge. This ledge was, I judged, all of a hundred feet in width. + From it the floor of the place was dropping rapidly. + </p> + <p> + The opposite precipices were slowly drawing closer. After us flowed the + flanking host. + </p> + <p> + Steadily our ledge arose and the floor of the canyon dropped. Now we were + twenty feet above it, now thirty. And the character of the cliffs was + changing. Veins of quartz shone under the metallic plating like cut + crystal, like cloudy opals; here was a splash of vermilion, there a patch + of amber; bands of pallid ochre stained it. + </p> + <p> + My gaze was caught by a line of inky blackness in the exact center of the + falling floor. So black was it that at first glance I took it for a vein + of jetty lignite. + </p> + <p> + It widened. It was a crack, a fissure. Now it was a yard in width, now + three, and blackness seemed to well up from within it, blackness that was + the very essence of the depths. Steadily the ebon rift expanded; spread + suddenly wide open in two sharp-edged, flying wedges— + </p> + <p> + Earth had dropped away. At our side a gulf had opened, an abyss, striking + down depth upon depth; profound; immeasurable. + </p> + <p> + We were human atoms, riding upon a steed of sorcery and racing along a + split rampart of infinite space. + </p> + <p> + I looked behind—scores of the cubes were darting from the metal host + trailing us; in a long column of twos they flashed by, raced ahead. Far in + front of us a gloom began to grow; deepened until we were rushing into + blackest night. + </p> + <p> + Through the murk stabbed a long lance of pale blue phosphorescence. It + unrolled like a ribbon of wan flame, flicked like a serpent's tongue—held + steady. I felt the Thing beneath us leap forward; its velocity grew + prodigious; the wind beat upon us with hurricane force. + </p> + <p> + I shielded my eyes with my hands and peered through the chinks of my + fingers. Ranged directly in our path was a barricade of the cubes and upon + them we were racing like a flying battering-ram. Involuntarily I closed my + eyes against the annihilating impact that seemed inevitable. + </p> + <p> + The Thing on which we rode lifted. + </p> + <p> + We were soaring at a long angle straight to the top of the barrier; were + upon it, and still with that awful speed unchecked were hurtling through + the blackness over the shaft of phosphorescence, the ribbon of pale light + that I had watched pierce it and knew now was but another span of the + cubes that but a little before had fled past us. Beneath the span, on each + side of it, I sensed illimitable void. + </p> + <p> + We were over; rushing along in darkness. There began a mighty tumult, a + vast crashing and roaring. The clangor waxed, beat about us with + tremendous strokes of sound. + </p> + <p> + Far away was a dim glowing, as of rising sun through heavy mists of dawn. + The mists faded—miles away gleamed what at first glimpse seemed + indeed to be the rising sun; a gigantic orb, whose lower limb just + touched, was sharply, horizontally cut by the blackness, as though at its + base that blackness was frozen. + </p> + <p> + The sun? Reason returned to me; told me this globe could not be that. + </p> + <p> + What was it then? Ra-Harmachis, of the Egyptians, stripped of his wings, + exiled and growing old in the corridors of the Dead? Or that mocking + luminary, the cold phantom of the God of light and warmth which the old + Norsemen believed was set in their frozen hell to torment the damned? + </p> + <p> + I thrust aside the fantasies, impatiently. But sun or no sun, light + streamed from this orb, light in multicolored, lanced rays, banishing the + blackness through which we had been flying. + </p> + <p> + Closer we came and closer; lighter it grew about us, and by the growing + light I saw that still beside us ran the abyss. And even louder, more + thunderous, became the clamor. + </p> + <p> + At the foot of the radiant disk I glimpsed a luminous pool. Into it, out + of the depths, protruded a tremendous rectangular tongue, gleaming like + gray steel. + </p> + <p> + On the tongue an inky shape appeared; it lifted itself from the abyss, + rushed upon the disk and took form. + </p> + <p> + Like a gigantic spider it was, squat and horned. For an instant it was + silhouetted against the smiling sphere, poised itself—and vanished + through it. + </p> + <p> + Now, not far ahead, silhouetted as had been the spider shape, blackened + into sight a cube and on it Ruth and Norhala. It seemed to hover, to wait. + </p> + <p> + “It's a door,” Drake's shout beat thinly in my ears against the hurricane + of sound. + </p> + <p> + What I thought had been an orb was indeed a gateway, a portal; and it was + gigantic. + </p> + <p> + The light streamed through it, the flaming colors, the lightning glare, + the drifting shadows were all beyond it. The suggestion of sphere had been + an illusion, born of the darkness in which we were moving and in its own + luminescence. + </p> + <p> + And I saw that the steel tongue was a ramp, a slide, dropping down into + the gulf. + </p> + <p> + Norhala raised her hands high above her head. Up from the darkness flew an + incredible shape—like a monstrous, armored flat-backed crab; angled + spikes protruded from it; its huge body was spangled with darting, + greenish flames. + </p> + <p> + It swept beneath us and by. On its back were multitudinous breasts from + which issued blinding flashes—sapphire blue, emerald green, sun + yellow. It hung poised as had that other nightmare shape, standing out jet + black and colossal, rearing upon columnar legs, whose outlines were those + of alternate enormous angled arrow-points and lunettes. Swiftly its form + shifted; an instant it hovered, half disintegrate. + </p> + <p> + Now I saw spinning spheres and darting cubes and pyramids click into new + positions. The front and side legs lengthened, the back legs shortened, + fitting themselves plainly to what must be a varying angle of descent + beyond. + </p> + <p> + And it was no chimera, no kraken of the abyss. It was a car made of the + Metal Things. I caught again the flashes and thought that they were jewels + or heaps of shining ores carried by the conscious machine. + </p> + <p> + It vanished. In its place hung poised the cube that bore the enigmatic + woman and Ruth. Then they were gone and we stood where but an instant + before they had been. + </p> + <p> + We were high above an ocean of living light—a sea of incandescent + splendors that stretched mile upon uncounted mile away and whose + incredible waves streamed thousands of feet in air, flew in gigantic + banners, in tremendous streamers, in coruscating clouds of varicolored + flame—as though torn by the talons of a mighty wind. + </p> + <p> + My dazzled sight cleared, glare and blaze and searing incandescence took + form, became ordered. Within the sea of light I glimpsed shapes cyclopean, + unnameable. + </p> + <p> + They moved slowly, with an awesome deliberateness. They shone darkly + within the flame-woven depths. From them came the volleys of the + lightnings. + </p> + <p> + Score upon score of them there were—huge and enigmatic. Their + flaming levins threaded the shimmering veils, patterned them, as though + they were the flying robes of the very spirit of fire. + </p> + <p> + And the tumult was as ten thousand Thors, smiting with hammers against the + enemies of Odin. As a forge upon whose shouting anvils was being shaped a + new world. + </p> + <p> + A new world? A metal world! + </p> + <p> + The thought spun through my mazed brain, was gone—and not until long + after did I remember it. For suddenly all that clamor died; the lightnings + ceased; all the flitting radiances paled and the sea of flaming splendors + grew thin as moving mists. The storming shapes dulled with them, seemed to + darken into the murk. + </p> + <p> + Through the fast-waning light and far, far away—miles it seemed on + high and many, many miles in length—a broad band of fluorescent + amethyst shone. From it dropped curtains, shimmering, nebulous as the + marching folds of the aurora; they poured, cascaded, from the amethystine + band. + </p> + <p> + Huge and purple-black against their opalescence bulked what at first I + thought a mountain, so like was it to one of those fantastic buttes of our + desert Southwest when their castellated tops are silhouetted against the + setting sun; knew instantly that this was but subconscious striving to + translate into terms of reality the incredible. + </p> + <p> + It was a City! + </p> + <p> + A city full five thousand feet high and crowned with countless spires and + turrets, titanic arches, stupendous domes! It was as though the man-made + cliffs of lower New York were raised scores of times their height, + stretched a score of times their length. And weirdly enough it did suggest + those same towering masses of masonry when one sees them blacken against + the twilight skies. + </p> + <p> + The pit darkened as though night were filtering down into it; the vast, + purple-shadowed walls of the city sparkled out with countless lights. From + the crowning arches and turrets leaped broad filaments of flame, flashing, + electric. + </p> + <p> + Was it my straining eyes, the play of the light and shadow—or were + those high-flung excrescences shifting, changing shape? An icy hand + stretched out of the unknown, stilled my heart. For they were shifting—arches + and domes, turrets and spires; were melting, reappearing in ferment; like + the lightning-threaded, rolling edges of the thundercloud. + </p> + <p> + I wrenched my gaze away; saw that our platform had come to rest upon a + broad and silvery ledge close to the curving frame of the portal and not a + yard from where upon her block stood Norhala, her arm clasped about the + rigid form of Ruth. I heard a sigh from Ventnor, an exclamation from + Drake. + </p> + <p> + Before one of us could cry out to Ruth, the cube glided to the edge of the + shelf, dipped out of sight. + </p> + <p> + That upon which we rode trembled and sped after it. + </p> + <p> + There came a sickening sense of falling; we lurched against each other; + for the first time the pony whinnied, fearfully. Then with awful speed we + were flying down a wide, a glistening, a steeply angled ramp into the Pit, + straight toward the half-hidden, soaring escarpments flashing afar. + </p> + <p> + Far ahead raced the Thing on which stood woman and maid. Their hair + streamed behind them, mingled, silken web of brown and shining veil of + red-gold; little clouds of sparkling corpuscles threaded them, like + flitting swarms of fire-flies; their bodies were nimbused with tiny, + flickering tongues of lavender flame. + </p> + <p> + About us, above us, began again to rumble the countless drums of the + thunder. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. THE PORTAL OF FLAME + </h2> + <p> + It was as though we were on a meteor hurtling through space. The split air + shrieked and shrilled, a keening barrier against the avalanche of the + thunder. The blast bent us far back on thighs held rigid by the magnetic + grip. + </p> + <p> + The pony spread its legs, dropped its head; through the hurricane roaring + its screaming pierced thinly, that agonizing, terrible lamentation which + is of the horse and the horse alone when the limit of its endurance is + reached. + </p> + <p> + Ventnor crouched lower and lower, eyes shielded behind arms folded over + his brows, straining for a glimpse of Ruth; Drake crouched beside him, + bracing him, supporting him against the tempest. + </p> + <p> + Our line of flight became less abrupt, but the speed increased, the + wind-pressure became almost insupportable. I twisted, dropped upon my + right arm, thrust my head against my shoulder, stared backward. When first + I had looked upon the place I had sensed its immensity; now I began to + realize how vast it must really be—for already the gateway through + which we had come glimmered far away on high, shrunk to a hoop of + incandescent brass and dwindling fast. + </p> + <p> + Nor was it a cavern; I saw the stars, traced with deep relief the familiar + Northern constellations. Pit it might be, but whatever terror, whatever + ordeals were before us, we would not have to face them buried deep within + earth. There was a curious comfort to me in the thought. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly stars and sky were blotted out. + </p> + <p> + We had plunged beneath the surface of the radiant sea. + </p> + <p> + Lying in the position in which I was, I was sensible of a diminution of + the cyclonic force; the blast streamed up and over the front of the cube. + To me drifted only the wailings of our flight and the whimpering terror of + the pony. + </p> + <p> + I turned my head cautiously. Upon the very edge of the flying blocks + squatted Drake and Ventnor, grotesquely frog-like. I crawled toward them—crawled, + literally, like a caterpillar; for wherever my body touched the surface of + the cubes the attracting force held it, allowed a creeping movement only, + surface sliding upon surface—and weirdly enough like a human + measuring-worm I looped myself over to them. + </p> + <p> + As my bare palms clung to the Things I realized with finality that + whatever their activation, their life, they WERE metal. + </p> + <p> + There was no mistaking now the testimony of touch. Metal they were, with a + hint upon contact of highly polished platinum, or at the least of a metal + as finely grained as it. + </p> + <p> + Also they had temperature, a curiously pleasant warmth—the surfaces + were, I judged, around ninety-five degrees Fahrenheit. I looked deep down + into the little sparkling points that were, I knew, organs of sight; they + were like the points of contact of innumerable intersecting crystal + planes. They held strangest paradoxical suggestion of being close to the + surface and still infinite distances away. + </p> + <p> + And they were like—what was it they were like?—it came to me + with a distinct shock. + </p> + <p> + They were like the galaxies of little aureate and sapphire stars in the + clear gray heavens of Norhala's eyes. + </p> + <p> + I crept beside Drake, struck him with my head. + </p> + <p> + “Can't move,” I shouted. “Can't lift my hands. Stuck fast—like a fly—just + as you said.” + </p> + <p> + “Drag 'em over your knees,” he cried, bending to me. “It slides 'em out of + the attraction.” + </p> + <p> + Acting as he had suggested I found to my astonishment I could slip my + hands free; I caught his belt, tried to lift myself by it. + </p> + <p> + “No use, Doc.” The old grin lightened for a moment his tense young face. + “You'll have to keep praying till the power's turned off. Nothing here you + can slide your knees on.” + </p> + <p> + I nodded, waddling close to his side; then sank back on my haunches to + relieve the strain upon my aching leg-muscles. + </p> + <p> + “Can you see them ahead, Walter—Ruth and the woman?” Ventnor turned + his anxious eyes toward me. + </p> + <p> + I peered into the glimmering murk; shook my head. I could see nothing. It + was indeed, as though the clustered cubes sped within a bubble of the now + wanly glistening vapors; or rather as though in our passage—as a + projectile does in air—we piled before us a thick wave of the mists + which streaming along each side, closing in behind, obscured all that lay + around. + </p> + <p> + Yet I had, persistently, the feeling that beyond these shroudings was vast + and ordered movement; marchings and counter-marchings of hosts greater + even than those Golden Hordes of Genghis which ages agone had washed about + the outer bases of the very peaks that hid this place. Came, too, flitting + shadowings of huge shapes, unnameable, moving swiftly beside our way; + gleamings that thrust themselves through the veils like wheeling javelins + of flame. + </p> + <p> + And always, always, everywhere that constant movement, rhythmic, + terrifying—like myriads of feet of creatures of an unseen, stranger + world marking time just outside the threshold of our own. Preparing, + DRILLING there in some wide vestibule of space between the known and the + unknown, alert and menacing—poised for the signal which would send + them pouring over it. + </p> + <p> + Once again I seemed to stand upon the brink of an abyss of incredible + revelation, striving helplessly, struggling for realization—and so + struggling became aware that our speed was swiftly slackening, the roaring + blast dying down, the veils before us thinning. + </p> + <p> + They cleared away. I saw Drake and Ventnor straighten up; raised myself to + my own aching knees. + </p> + <p> + We were at one end of a vortex, a funneling within the radiant vapors; a + funnel whose further end a mile ahead broadened out into a huge circle, + its mistily outlined edges impinging upon the towering scarp of the—city. + It was as though before us lay, upon its side, a cone of crystalline clear + air against whose curved sides some radiant medium heavier than air, + lighter than water, pressed. + </p> + <p> + The top arc of its prostrate base reached a thousand feet or more up the + precipitous wall; above it all was hidden in sparkling nebulosities that + were like still clouds of greenly glimmering fire-flies. Back from the + curving sides of this cone, above it and below it, the pressing + luminosities stretched into, it seemed, infinite distances. + </p> + <p> + Through them, suddenly, thousands of bright beams began to dart, to dance, + weaving and interweaving, shooting hither and yon—like myriads of + great searchlights in a phosphorescent sea fog, like countless lances of + the aurora thrusting through its own iridescent veils! And in the play of + these beams was something appallingly ordered, appallingly rhythmic. + </p> + <p> + It was—how can I describe it?—PURPOSEFUL; purposeful as the + geometric shiftings of the Little Things of the ruins, of the summoning + song of Norhala, of the Protean changes of the Smiting Shape and the + Following Thing; and like all of these it was as laden with that baffling + certainty of hidden meanings, of messages that the brain recognized as + such yet knew it never could read. + </p> + <p> + The rays seemed to spring upward from the earth. Now they were like + countless lances of light borne by marching armies of Titans; now they + crossed and angled and flew as though they were clouds of javelins hurled + by battling swarms of the Genii of Light. And now they stood upright while + through them, thrusting them aside, bending them, passed vast, vague + shapes like mountains forming and dissolving; like darkening monsters of + some world of light pushing through thick forests of slender, + high-reaching trees of cold flame; shifting shadows of monstrous chimerae + slipping through jungles of bamboo with trunks of diamond fire; phantasmal + leviathans swimming through brakes of giant reeds of radiance rising from + the sparking ooze of a sea of star shine. + </p> + <p> + Whence came the force, the mechanism that produced this cone of clarity, + this NOT searchlight, but unlight in the midst of light? Not from behind, + that was certain—for turning I saw that behind us the mist was as + thick. I turned again—it came to me, why I knew not, yet with an + absolute certainty, that the energy, the force emanated from the distant + wall itself. + </p> + <p> + The funnel, the cone, did not expand from where we were standing, now + motionless. + </p> + <p> + It began at the wall and focused upon us. + </p> + <p> + Within the great circle the surface of the wall was smooth, utterly blank; + upon it was no trace of those flitting lights we had seen before we had + plunged down toward the radiant sea. It shone with a pale blue + phosphorescence. It was featureless, smooth, a blind cliff of polished, + blue metal—and that was all. + </p> + <p> + “Ruth!” groaned Ventnor. “Where is she?” + </p> + <p> + Aghast at my mental withdrawal from him, angry at myself for my + callousness, awkwardly I tried to crawl over to him, to touch him, comfort + him as well as I might. + </p> + <p> + And then, as though his cry had been a signal, the great cone began to + move. Slowly the circled base slipped down the shimmering facades; down, + steadily down; I realized that we had paused at the edge of some steep + declivity, for the bottom of the cone was now at a decided angle while the + upper edge of the circle had dropped a full two hundred feet below the + place where it had rested—and still it fell. + </p> + <p> + There came a gasp of relief from Ventnor, a sigh from Drake while, from my + own heart, a weight rolled. Not ten yards ahead of us and still deep + within the luminosity had appeared the regal head of Norhala, the lovely + head of Ruth. The two rose out of the glow like swimmers floating from the + depths. Now they were clear before us, and now we could see the surface of + the cube on which they rode. + </p> + <p> + But neither turned to us; each stared straightly, motionless along the + axis of the sinking cone, the woman's left arm holding Ruth close to her + side. + </p> + <p> + Drake's hand caught my shoulder in a grip that hurt—nor did he need + to point toward that which had wrung the exclamation from him. The funnel + had broken from its slow falling; it had made one swift, startling drop + and had come to rest. Its recumbent side was now flattened into a + triangular plane, widening from the narrow tip in which we stood to all of + five hundred feet where its base rested against the blue wall, and falling + at a full thirty-degree pitch. + </p> + <p> + The misty-edged circle had become an oval, a flattened ellipse another + five hundred feet high and three times that in length. And in its exact + center, shining forth as though it opened into a place of pale azure + incandescence was another rectangular Cyclopean portal. + </p> + <p> + On each side of it, in the apparently solid face of the gleaming, metallic + cliffs, a slit was opening. + </p> + <p> + They began as thin lines a hundred yards in height through which the + intense light seemed to hiss; quickly they opened—widening like + monstrous cat pupils until at last, their widening ceasing, they glared + forth, the blue incandescence gushing from them like molten steel from an + opened sluice. + </p> + <p> + Deep within them I sensed a movement. Scores of towering shapes swam + within and glided out of them, each reflecting the vivid light as though + they themselves were incandescent. Around their crests spun wide and + flaming coronets. + </p> + <p> + They rushed forth, wheeling, whirling, driven like leaves in a whirlwind. + Out they swirled from the cat's eyes of the glimmering wall, these dervish + obelisks crowded with spinning fires. They vanished in the mists. + Instantly with their going, the eyes contracted; were but slits; were + gone. And before us within the oval was only the waiting portal. + </p> + <p> + The leading block leaped forward. As abruptly, those that bore us + followed. Again under that strain of projectile flight we clutched each + other; the pony screamed in terror. The metal cliff rushed to meet us like + a thunder cloud of steel; the portal raced upon us—a square mouth of + cold blue flame. + </p> + <p> + And into it we swept; were devoured by it. + </p> + <p> + Light in blinding, intolerable flood beat about us, blackening the sight + with agony. We pressed, the three of us, against the side of the pony, + burying our faces in its shaggy coat, striving to hide our eyes from the + radiance which, strain closely as we might, seemed to pierce through the + body of the little beast, through our own heads, searing the sight. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. “WITCH! GIVE BACK MY SISTER” + </h2> + <p> + How long we were within that glare I do not know; it seemed unending + hours; it was of course only minutes—seconds, perhaps. Then I was + sensible of a permeating shadow, a darkness gentle and healing. + </p> + <p> + I raised my head and opened my eyes. We were moving tranquilly, with a + curious suggestion of homing leisureliness, through a soft, blue + shimmering darkness. It was as though we were drifting within some high + borderland of light; a region in which that rapid vibration we call the + violet was mingled with a still more rapid vibration whose quick pulsing + was felt by the brain but ever fled ere that brain could register it in + terms of color. And there seemed to be a film over my sight; dazzlement + from the unearthly blaze, I thought, shaking my head impatiently. + </p> + <p> + My eyes focused upon an object a little more than a foot away; my neck + grew rigid, my scalp prickled while I stared, unbelieving. And that at + which I stared was—a skeleton hand. Every bone a grayish black, + sharply silhouetted, clean as some master surgeon's specimen, it was + extended as though clutching at—clutching at—what was that + toward which it was reaching? + </p> + <p> + Again the icy prickling over scalp and skin—for its talons stretched + out to grasp a steed that Death himself might have ridden, a rack whose + bare skull hung drooping upon bent vertebrae. + </p> + <p> + I raised my hands to my face to shut out the ghostly sight—and + swiftly the clutching bony hand moved toward me—was before my eyes—touched + me. + </p> + <p> + The cry that sheer horror wrested from me was strangled by realization. + And so acute was my relief, so reassuring was it to have in the midst of + these mysteries some sane, understandable thing occur that I laughed + aloud. + </p> + <p> + For the skeleton hand was my own. The mournful ghastly mount of death was—our + pony. And when I looked again I knew what I would see—and see them I + did—two tall skeletons, skulls resting on their bony arms, leaning + against the frame of the beast. + </p> + <p> + While ahead of us, floating poised upon the surface of the glistening + cube, were two women skeletons—Ruth and Norhala! + </p> + <p> + Weird enough was the sight. Dureresque, grimly awful as materialization of + a scene of the Dance Macabre—and yet—vastly comforting. + </p> + <p> + For here was something which was well within the range of human knowledge. + It was the light about us that did it; a vibration that even as I + conjectured, was within the only partly explored region of the ultraviolet + and the comparatively unexplored region above it. + </p> + <p> + Yet there were differences, for there was none of that misty halo around + the bones, the flesh which the X-rays cannot render wholly invisible. The + skeletons stood out clean cut, with no trace of fleshly vestments. + </p> + <p> + I crept over, spoke to the two. + </p> + <p> + “Don't look up yet,” I said. “Don't open your eyes. We're going through a + queer light. It has an X-ray quality. You're going to see me as a skeleton—” + </p> + <p> + “What?” shouted Drake. Disobeying my warning he straightened, glared at + me. And disquieting as the spectacle had been before, fully understanding + it as I did, I could not restrain my shudder at the utter weirdness of + that skull which was his head thrusting itself toward me. + </p> + <p> + The skeleton that was Ventnor turned to me; was arrested by the sight of + the flitting pair ahead. I saw the fleshless jaws clamp, then opened to + speak. + </p> + <p> + Abruptly, upon the skeletons in front the flesh dropped back. Girl and + woman stood there once again robed in beauty. + </p> + <p> + So swift was that transition from the grisly unreal to the normal that + even to my unsuperstitious mind it smacked of necromancy. The next instant + the three of us stood looking at each other, clothed once more in the + flesh, and the pony no longer the steed of death, but our shaggy, patient + little companion. + </p> + <p> + The light had changed; the high violet had gone from it, and it was shot + with yellow gleamings like fugitive sunbeams. We were passing through a + wide corridor that seemed to be unending. The yellow light grew stronger. + </p> + <p> + “That light wasn't exactly the Roentgen variety,” Drake interrupted my + absorption in our surroundings. “And I hope to God it's as different as it + seemed. If it's not we may be up against a lot of trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “More trouble than we're in?” I asked, a trifle satirically. + </p> + <p> + “X-ray burns,” he answered, “and no way to treat them in this place—if + we live to want treatment,” he ended grimly. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think we were subjected to their action long enough—” I + began, and was silent. + </p> + <p> + The corridor had opened without warning into a place for whose immensity I + have no images that are adequate. It was a chamber that was vaster than + ten score of the Great Halls of Karnac in one; great as that fabled hall + in dread Amenti where Osiris sits throned between the Searcher of Hearts + and the Eater of Souls, judging the jostling hosts of the newly dead. + </p> + <p> + Temple it was in its immensity, and its solemn vastness—but unlike + any temple ever raised by human toil. In no ruin of earth's youth giants' + work now crumbling under the weight of time had I ever sensed a shadow of + the strangeness with which this was instinct. No—nor in the + shattered fanes that once had held the gods of old Egypt, nor in the + pillared shrines of Ancient Greece, nor Imperial Rome, nor mosque, + basilica nor cathedral. + </p> + <p> + All these had been dedicated to gods which, whether created by humanity as + science believes, or creators of humanity as their worshippers believed, + still held in them that essence we term human. + </p> + <p> + The spirit, the force, that filled this place had in it nothing, NOTHING + of the human. + </p> + <p> + No place? Yes, there was one—Stonehenge. Within that monolithic + circle I had felt a something akin to this, as inhuman; a brooding spirit + stony, stark, unyielding—as though not men but a people of stone had + raised the great Menhirs. + </p> + <p> + This was a sanctuary built by a people of metal! + </p> + <p> + It was filled with a soft yellow glow like pale sunshine. Up from its + floor arose hundreds of tremendous, square pillars down whose polished + sides the crocus light seemed to flow. + </p> + <p> + Far, far as the gaze could reach, the columns marched, oppressively + ordered, appallingly mathematical. From their massiveness distilled a + sense of power, mysterious, mechanical yet—living; something + priestly, hierophantic—as though they were guardians of a shrine. + </p> + <p> + Now I saw whence came the light suffusing this place. High up among the + pillars floated scores of orbs that shone like pale gilt frozen suns. + Great and small, through all the upper levels these strange luminaries + gleamed, fixed and motionless, hanging unsupported in space. Out from + their shining spherical surfaces darted rays of the same pale gold, rigid, + unshifting, with the same suggestion of frozen stillness. + </p> + <p> + “They look like big Christmas-tree stars,” muttered Drake. + </p> + <p> + “They're lights,” I answered. “Of course they are. They're not matter—not + metal, I mean—” + </p> + <p> + “There's something about them like St. Elmo's fire, witch lights—condensations + of atmospheric electricity,” Ventnor's voice was calm; now that it was + plain we were nearing the heart of this mystery in which we were enmeshed + he had clearly taken fresh grip, was again his observant, scientific self. + </p> + <p> + We watched, once more silent; and indeed we had spoken little since we had + begun that ride whose end we sensed close. In the unfolding of enigmatic + happening after happening the mind had deserted speech and crouched + listening at every door of sight and hearing to gather some clue to + causes, some thread of understanding. + </p> + <p> + Slowly now we were gliding through the forest of pillars; so effortless, + so smooth our flight that we seemed to be standing still, the tremendous + columns flitting past us, turning and wheeling around us, dizzyingly. My + head swam with the mirage motion, I closed my eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Look,” Drake was shaking me. “Look. What do you make of that?” + </p> + <p> + Half a mile ahead the pillars stopped at the edge of a shimmering, + quivering curtain of green luminescence. High, high up past the pale gilt + suns its smooth folds ran, into the golden amber mist that canopied the + columns. + </p> + <p> + In its sparkling was more than a hint of the dancing corpuscles of the + aurora; it was, indeed, as though woven of the auroral rays. And all about + it played shifting, tremulous shadows formed by the merging of the golden + light with the curtain's emerald gleaming. + </p> + <p> + Up to its base swept the cube that bore Ruth and Norhala—and + stopped. From it leaped the woman, and drew Ruth down beside her, then + turned and gestured toward us. + </p> + <p> + That upon which we rode drew close. I felt it quiver beneath me; felt on + the instant, the magnetic grip drop from me, angle downward and leave me + free. Shakily I arose from aching knees, and saw Ventnor flash down and + run, rifle in hand, toward his sister. + </p> + <p> + Drake bent for his gun. I moved unsteadily toward the side of the + clustered cubes. There came a curious pushing motion driving me to the + edge. Sliding over upon me came Drake and the pony— + </p> + <p> + The cube tilted, gently, playfully—and with the slightest of jars + the three of us stood beside it on the floor, we two men gaping at it in + renewed wonder, and the little beast stretching its legs, lifting its feet + and whinnying with relief. + </p> + <p> + Then abruptly the four blocks that had been our steed broke from each + other; that which had been the woman's glided to them. + </p> + <p> + The four clicked into place behind it and darted from sight. + </p> + <p> + “Ruth!” Ventnor's voice was vibrant with his fear. “Ruth! What is wrong + with you? What has she done to you?” + </p> + <p> + We ran to his side. He stood clutching her hands, searching her eyes. They + were wide, unseeing, dream filled. Upon her face the calm and stillness, + which were mirrored reflections of Norhala's unearthly tranquillity, had + deepened. + </p> + <p> + “Brother.” The sweet voice seemed far away, drifting out of untroubled + space, an echo of Norhala's golden chimings—“Brother, there is + nothing wrong with me. Indeed—all is—well with me—brother.” + </p> + <p> + He dropped the listless palms, faced the woman, tall figure tense, drawn + with mingled rage and anguish. + </p> + <p> + “What have you done to her?” he whispered in Norhala's own tongue. + </p> + <p> + Her serene gaze took him in, undisturbed by his anger save for the + faintest shadow of wonder, of perplexity. + </p> + <p> + “Done?” she repeated, slowly. “I have stilled all that was troubled within + her—have lifted her above sorrow. I have given her the peace—as + I will give it to you if—” + </p> + <p> + “You'll give me nothing,” he interrupted fiercely; then, his passion + breaking through all restraint—“Yes, you damned witch—you'll + give me back my sister!” + </p> + <p> + In his rage he had spoken English; she could not, of course, have + understood the words, but their anger and hatred she did understand. Her + serenity quivered, broke. The strange stars within her eyes began to + glitter forth as they had when she had summoned the Smiting Thing. + Unheeding, Ventnor thrust out a hand, caught her roughly by one bare, + lovely shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Give her back to me, I say!” he cried. “Give her back to me!” + </p> + <p> + The woman's eyes grew—awful. Out of the distended pupils the strange + stars blazed; upon her face was something of the goddess outraged. I felt + the shadow of Death's wings. + </p> + <p> + “No! No—Norhala! No, Martin!” the veils of inhuman calm shrouding + Ruth were torn; swiftly the girl we knew looked out from them. She threw + herself between the two, arms outstretched. + </p> + <p> + “Ventnor!” Drake caught his arms, held them tight; “that's not the way to + save her!” + </p> + <p> + Ventnor stood between us, quivering, half sobbing. Never until then had I + realized how great, how absorbing was that love of his for Ruth. And the + woman saw it, too, even though dimly; envisioned it humanly. For, under + the shock of human passion, that which I thought then as utterly unknown + to her as her cold serenity was to us, the sleeping soul—I use the + popular word for those emotional complexes that are peculiar to mankind—stirred, + awakened. + </p> + <p> + Wrath fled from her knitted brows; her eyes dropping to the girl, lost + their dreadfulness; softened. She turned them upon Ventnor, they brooded + upon him; within their depths a half-troubled interest, a questioning. + </p> + <p> + A smile dawned upon the exquisite face, humanizing it, transfiguring it, + touching with tenderness the sweet and sleeping mouth—as a hovering + dream the lips of the slumbering maid. + </p> + <p> + And on the face of Ruth, as upon a mirror, I watched that same slow, + understanding tenderness reflected! + </p> + <p> + “Come,” said Norhala, and led the way through the sparkling curtains. As + she passed, an arm around Ruth's neck, I saw the marks of Ventnor's + fingers upon her white shoulder, staining its purity, marring it like a + blasphemy. + </p> + <p> + For an instant I hung behind, watching their figures grow misty within the + shining shadows; then followed hastily. Entering the mists I was conscious + of a pleasant tingling, an acceleration of the pulse, an increase of that + sense of well-being which, I grew suddenly aware, had since the beginning + of our strange journey minimized the nervous attrition of constant contact + with the abnormal. + </p> + <p> + Striving to classify, to reduce to order, my sensations I drew close to + the others, overtaking them in a dozen paces. A dozen paces more and we + stepped out of the curtainings. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. THE METAL EMPEROR + </h2> + <p> + We stood at the edge of a well whose walls were of that same green + vaporous iridescence through which we had just come, but finer grained, + compact; as though here the corpuscles of which they were woven were far + closer spun. Thousands of feet above us the mighty cylinder uprose, and in + the lessened circle that was its mouth I glimpsed the bright stars; and + knew by this it opened into the free air. + </p> + <p> + All of half a mile in diameter was this shaft, and ringed regularly along + its height by wide amethystine bands—like rings of a hollow piston. + They were, in color, replicas of that I had glimpsed before our descent + into this place and against whose gleaming cataracts the outlines of the + incredible city had lowered. And they were in motion, spinning smoothly, + and swiftly. + </p> + <p> + Only one swift glance I gave them, my eyes held by a most extraordinary—edifice—altar—machine—I + could not find the word for it—then. + </p> + <p> + Its base was a scant hundred yards from where we had paused and concentric + with the sides of the pit. It stood upon a thick circular pedestal of what + appeared to be cloudy rock crystal supported by hundreds of thick rods of + the same material. + </p> + <p> + Up from it lifted the structure, a thing of glistening cones and spinning + golden disks; fantastic yet disquietingly symmetrical; bizarre as an + angled headdress worn by a mountainous Javanese god—yet coldly, + painfully mathematical. In every direction the cones pointed, seemingly + interwoven of strands of metal and of light. + </p> + <p> + What was their color? It came to me—that of the mysterious element + which stains the sun's corona, that diadem seen only when our day star is + in eclipse; the unknown element which science has named coronium, which + never yet has been found on earth and that may be electricity in its one + material form; electricity that is ponderable; force whose vibrations are + keyed down to mass; power transmuted into substance. + </p> + <p> + Thousands upon thousands the cones bristled, pyramiding to the base of one + tremendous spire that tapered up almost to the top of the shaft itself. + </p> + <p> + In their grouping the mind caught infinite calculations carried into + infinity; an apotheosis of geometry compassing the rhythms of unknown + spatial dimensions; concentration of the equations of the star hordes. + </p> + <p> + The mathematics of the Cosmos. + </p> + <p> + From the left of the crystalline base swept an enormous sphere. It was + twice the height of a tall man, and it was a paler blue than any of these + Things I had seen, almost, indeed, an azure; different, too, in other + subtle, indefinable ways. + </p> + <p> + Behind it glided a pair of the pyramidal shapes, their pointed tips higher + by a yard or more than the top of the sphere. They paused—regarding + us. Out from the opposite arc of the crystal pedestal moved six other + globes, somewhat smaller than the first and of a deep purplish luster. + </p> + <p> + They separated, lining up on each side of the leader now standing a little + in advance of the twin tetrahedrons, rigid and motionless as watching + guards. + </p> + <p> + There they stood—that enigmatic row, intent, studying us beneath + their god or altar or machine of cones and disks within their cylinder + walled with light. + </p> + <p> + And at that moment there crystallized within my consciousness the + sublimation of all the strangenesses of all that had gone before, a panic + loneliness as though I had wandered into an alien world—a world as + unfamiliar to humanity, as unfamiliar with it as our own would seem to a + thinking, mobile crystal adrift among men. + </p> + <p> + Norhala raised her white arms in salutation; from her throat came a + lilting theme of her weirdly ordered, golden chanting. Was it speech, I + wondered; and if so—prayer or entreaty or command? + </p> + <p> + The great sphere quivered and undulated. Swifter than the eye could follow + it dilated; opened! + </p> + <p> + Where the azure globe had been, flashed out a disk of flaming splendors, + the very secret soul of flowered flame! And simultaneously the pyramids + leaped up and out behind it—two gigantic, four-rayed stars blazing + with cold blue fires. + </p> + <p> + The green auroral curtainings flared out, ran with streaming radiance—as + though some Spirit of Jewels had broken bonds of enchantment and burst + forth jubilant, flooding the shaft with its freed glories. Norhala's song + ceased; an arm dropped down upon the shoulders of Ruth. + </p> + <p> + Then woman and girl began to float toward the radiant disk. + </p> + <p> + As one, the three of us sprang after them. I felt a shock that was like a + quick, abrupt tap upon every nerve and muscle, stiffening them into + helpless rigidity. + </p> + <p> + Paralyzing that sharp, unseen contact had been, but nothing of pain + followed it. Instead it created an extraordinary acuteness of sight and + hearing, an abnormal keying up of the observational faculties, as though + the energy so mysteriously drawn from our motor centers had been thrown + back into the sensory. + </p> + <p> + I could take in every minute detail of the flashing miracle of gemmed + fires and its flaming ministers. Halfway between them and us Norhala and + Ruth drifted; I could catch no hint of voluntary motion on their part and + knew that they were not walking, but were being borne onward by some + manifestation of that same force which held us motionless. + </p> + <p> + I forgot them in my contemplation of the Disk. + </p> + <p> + It was oval, twenty feet in height, I judged, and twelve in its greatest + width. A broad band, translucent as sun golden chrysolite, ran about its + periphery. + </p> + <p> + Set within this zodiac and spaced at mathematically regular intervals were + nine ovoids of intensely living light. They shone like nine gigantic + cabochon cut sapphires; they ranged from palest, watery blue up through + azure and purple and down to a ghostly mauve shot with sullen undertones + of crimson. + </p> + <p> + In each of them was throned a flame that seemed the very fiery essence of + vitality. + </p> + <p> + The—BODY—was convex, swelling outward like the boss of a + shield; shimmering rosy-gray and crystalline. From the vital ovoids ran a + pattern of sparkling threads, irised and brilliant as floss of molten + jewels; converging with interfacings of spirals, of volutes and of + triangles into the nucleus. + </p> + <p> + And that nucleus, what was it? + </p> + <p> + Even now I can but guess—brain in part as we understand brain, + certainly; but far, far more than that in its energies, its powers. + </p> + <p> + It was like an immense rose. An incredible rose of a thousand close + clustering petals. It blossomed with a myriad shifting hues. And instant + by instant the flood of varicolored flame that poured into its petalings + down from the sapphire ovoids waxed and waned in crescendoes and + diminuendoes of relucent harmonies—ecstatic, awesome. + </p> + <p> + The heart of the rose was a star of incandescent ruby. + </p> + <p> + From the flaming crimson center to aureate, flashing penumbra it was + instinct with and poured forth power—power vast and conscious. + </p> + <p> + Not with that same completeness could I realize the ministering star + shapes, half hidden as they were by the Disk. Their radiance was less, nor + had they its miracle of pulsing gem fires. Blue they were, blue of a + peculiar vibrancy, and blue were the glistening threads that ran down from + blue-black circular convexities set within each of the points visible to + me. + </p> + <p> + Unlike in shape, their flame of vitality dimmer than the ovoids of the + Disk's golden zone, still I knew that they were even as those—ORGANS, + organs of unknown senses, unknown potentialities. Their nuclei I could not + observe. + </p> + <p> + The floating figures had drawn close to that disk and had paused. + </p> + <p> + And on the moment of their pausing I felt a surge of strength, a snapping + of the spell that had bound us, an instantaneous withdrawal of the + inhibiting force. Ventnor broke into a run, holding his rifle at the + alert. We raced after him; were close to the shining shapes. And, gasping, + we stopped short not a dozen paces away. + </p> + <p> + For Norhala had soared up toward the flaming rose of the Disk as though + lifted by gentle, unseen hands. Close to it for an instant she swung. I + saw the exquisite body gleam through her thin robes as though bathed in + soft flames of rosy pearl. + </p> + <p> + Higher she floated, and toward the right of the zodiac. From the edges of + three of the ovoids swirled a little cloud of tentacles, gossamer + filaments of opal. They whipped out a full yard from the Disk's surface, + touching her, caressing her. + </p> + <p> + For a moment she hung there, her face hidden from us; then was dropped + softly to her feet and stood, arms stretched wide, her copper hair + streaming cloudily about her regal head. + </p> + <p> + And up past her floated Ruth, levitated as had been she—and her + face, ecstatic as though she were gazing into Paradise, yet drenched with + the tranquillity of the infinite. Her wide eyes stared up toward that rose + of splendors through which the pulsing colors now raced more swiftly. She + hung poised before it while around her head a faint aureole began to form. + </p> + <p> + Again the gossamer threads thrust forth, searched her. They ran over her + rough clothing—perplexedly. They coiled about her neck, stole + through her hair, brushed shut her eyes, circled her brow, her breasts, + girdled her. + </p> + <p> + Weirdly was it like some intelligence observing, studying, some creature + of another species—puzzled by its similarity and unsimilarity with + the one other creature of its kind it knew, and striving to reconcile + those differences. And like such a questioning brain calling upon others + for counsel, it swung Ruth upward to the watching star at the right. + </p> + <p> + A rifle shot rang out. + </p> + <p> + Another—the reports breaking the silence like a profanation. Unseen + by either of us, Ventnor had slipped to one side where he could cover the + core of ruby flame that must have seemed to him the heart of the Disk's + rose of fire. He knelt a few yards away, white lipped, eyes cold gray ice, + sighting carefully for a third shot. + </p> + <p> + “Don't! Martin—don't fire!” I shouted, leaping toward him. + </p> + <p> + “Stop! Ventnor—” Drake's panic cry mingled with my own. + </p> + <p> + But before we could reach him, Norhala flew to him, like a darting + swallow. Down the face of the Disk glided the upright body of Ruth, struck + softly, stood swaying. + </p> + <p> + And out of the blue-black convexity within a star point of one of the + opened pyramids a lance of intense green flame darted, a lightning bolt as + real as any hurled by tempest, upon Ventnor. + </p> + <p> + The shattered air closed behind the streaming spark with the sound of + breaking glass. + </p> + <p> + It struck—Norhala. + </p> + <p> + It struck her. It seemed to splash upon her, to run down her like water. + One curling tongue writhed over her bare shoulder and leaped to the barrel + of the rifle in Ventnor's hands. It flashed up it and licked him. The gun + was torn from his grip, hurled high in air, exploding as it went. He + leaped convulsively from his knees and dropped. + </p> + <p> + I heard a wailing, low, bitter and heartbroken. Past us ran Ruth, all + dream, all unearthliness gone from a face now a tragic mask of human woe + and terror. She threw herself down beside her brother, felt of his heart; + then raised herself upon her knees and thrust out supplicating hands to + the shapes. + </p> + <p> + “Don't hurt him any more! He didn't mean it!” she cried out to them + piteously—like a child. She reached up, caught one of Norhala's + hands. “Norhala—don't let them kill him. Don't let them hurt him any + more. Please!” she sobbed. + </p> + <p> + Beside me I heard Drake cursing. + </p> + <p> + “If they touch her I'll kill the woman! I will, by God I will!” He strode + to Norhala's side. + </p> + <p> + “If you want to live, call off these devils of yours.” His voice was + strangled. + </p> + <p> + She looked at him, wonder deepening on the tranquil brow, in the clear, + untroubled gaze. Of course she could not understand his words—but it + was not that which made my own sick apprehension grow. + </p> + <p> + It was that she did not understand what called them forth. Did not even + understand what reason lay behind Ruth's sorrow, Ruth's prayer. + </p> + <p> + And more and more wondering grew in her eyes as she looked from the + threatening Drake to the supplicating Ruth, and from them to the still + body of Ventnor. + </p> + <p> + “Tell her what I say, Goodwin. I mean it.” + </p> + <p> + I shook my head. That was not the way, I knew. I looked toward the Disk, + still flanked with its sextette of spheres, still guarded by the flaming + blue stars. They were motionless, calm, watching. I sensed no hostility, + no anger; it was as though they were waiting for us to—to—waiting + for us to do what? + </p> + <p> + It came to me—they were indifferent. That was it—as + indifferent as we could be to the struggle of an ephemera; and as mildly + curious. + </p> + <p> + “Norhala,” I turned to the woman, “she would not have him suffer; she + would not have him die. She loves him.” + </p> + <p> + “Love?” she repeated, and all of her wonderment seemed crystallized in the + word. “Love?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “She loves him,” I said; and then, why I did not know, but I added, + pointing to Drake: “and he loves her.” + </p> + <p> + There was a tiny, astonished sob from Ruth. Again Norhala brooded over + her. Then with a little despairing shake of her head, she paced over and + faced the great Disk. + </p> + <p> + Tensely we waited. Communication there was between them, interchange of—thought; + how carried out I would not hazard even to myself. + </p> + <p> + But of a surety these two—the goddess woman, the wholly unhuman + shape of metal, of jeweled fires and conscious force—understood each + other. + </p> + <p> + For she turned, stood aside—and the body of Ventnor quivered, arose + from the floor, stood upright and with closed eyes, head dropping upon one + shoulder, glided toward the Disk like a dead man carried by those + messengers never seen by man who, the Arabs believe, bear the death + drugged souls before Allah for their awakening. + </p> + <p> + Ruth moaned and hid her eyes; Drake reached down, gathered her up in his + arms, held her close. + </p> + <p> + Ventnor's body stood before the Disk, then swam up along its face. The + tendrils waved out, felt of it, thrust themselves down through the wide + collar of the shirt. The floating form passed higher, over the edge of the + Disk; lay high beside the right star point of the rayed shape to which + Ruth had been passing when Ventnor's shot brought the tragedy upon us. I + saw other tentacles whip forth, examine, caress. + </p> + <p> + Then down the body swung, was borne through air, laid gently at our feet. + </p> + <p> + “He is not—dead,” it was Norhala beside me; she lifted Ruth's face + from Drake's breast. “He will not die. It may be he will walk again. They + can not help,” there was a shadow of apology in her tones. “They did not + know. They thought it was the”—she hesitated as though at loss for + words—“the—the Fire Play.” + </p> + <p> + “The Fire Play?” I gasped. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she nodded. “You shall see it. And now I will take him to my house. + You are safe—now, nor need you trouble. For he has given you to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Who has given us to you—Norhala?” I asked, as calmly as I could. + </p> + <p> + “He”—she nodded to the Disk, then spoke the phrase that was both + ancient Assyria's and ancient Persia's title for their all-conquering + rulers, and that meant—“the King of Kings. The Great King, Master of + Life and Death.” + </p> + <p> + She took Ruth from Drake's arms, pointing to Ventnor. + </p> + <p> + “Bear him,” she commanded, and led the way back through the walls of + light. + </p> + <p> + As we lifted the body, I slipped my hand through the shirt, felt at the + heart. Faint was the pulsation and slow, but regular. + </p> + <p> + Close to the encircling vapors I cast one look behind me. The shapes stood + immobile, flashing disks, gigantic radiant stars and the six great spheres + beneath their geometric super-Euclidean god or shrine or machine of + interwoven threads of luminous force and metal—still motionless, + still watching. + </p> + <p> + We emerged into the place of pillars. There stood the hooded pony and its + patience, its uncomplaining acceptance of its place as servant to man + brought a lump into my throat, salved, I suppose, my human vanity, abased + as it had been by the colossal indifference of those things to which we + were but playthings. + </p> + <p> + Again Norhala sent forth her call. Out of the maze glided her quintette of + familiars; again the four clicked into one. Upon its top we lifted, Drake + ascending first, the pony; then the body of Ventnor. + </p> + <p> + I saw Norhala lead Ruth to the remaining cube; saw the girl break away + from her, leap beside me, and kneeling at her brother's head, cradle it + against her soft breast. Then as I found in the medicine case the + hypodermic needle and the strychnine for which I had been searching, I + began my examination of Ventnor. + </p> + <p> + The cubes quivered—swept away through the forest of columns. + </p> + <p> + We crouched, the three of us, blind to anything that lay about us, + heedless of whatever road of wonders we were on, striving to strengthen in + Ventnor the spark of life so near extinction. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. “I WILL GIVE YOU PEACE” + </h2> + <p> + In our concentration upon Ventnor none of us had given thought to the + passing of time, nor where we were going. We stripped him to the waist, + and while Ruth massaged head and neck, Drake's strong fingers kneaded + chest and abdomen. I had used to the utmost my somewhat limited medical + knowledge. + </p> + <p> + We had found no mark nor burn upon him, not even upon his hands over which + had run the licking flame. The slightly purplish, cyanotic tinge of his + skin had given way to a clear pallor; the skin was itself disquietingly + cold, the blood-pressure only slightly subnormal. The pulse was more + rapid, stronger; the breathing faint but regular, and with no laboring. + The pupils of his eyes were contracted almost to the point of + invisibility. + </p> + <p> + I could get no nervous reactions whatever. I am familiar with the effects + of electric shock and know what to do in such cases, but Ventnor's + symptoms, while similar in part, presented other features unknown to me + and most puzzling. There was a passive automatism, a perplexing muscular + rigidity which caused arms and legs, hands and head to remain, doll-like, + in any position placed. + </p> + <p> + Several times during my labors I had been aware of Norhala gazing down + upon us; but she made no effort to help, nor did she speak. + </p> + <p> + Now, my strained attention relaxing, I began to receive and note + impressions from without. There was a different feeling in the air, a + diminution of the magnetic tension; I smelled the blessed breath of trees + and water. + </p> + <p> + The light about us was clear and pearly, about the intensity of the moon + at full. Looking back along the way we had been traveling, I saw a half + mile away vertical, knife-sharp edges of two facing cliffs, the gap + between them a mile or more wide. + </p> + <p> + Through them we must have passed, for beyond them were the radiant mists + of the pit of the city, and through this precipitous gateway filtered the + enveloping luminosity. On each side of us uprose gradually converging and + perpendicular scarps along whose base huddled a sparse foliage. + </p> + <p> + There came a low whistle of astonishment from Drake; I turned. We were + slowly gliding toward something that looked like nothing so much as a huge + and shimmering bubble of mingled sapphire and turquoise, swimming up from + and two-thirds above and the balance still hidden within earth. It seemed + to draw to itself the light, sending it back with gleamings of the + gray-blue of the star sapphire, with pellucid azures and lazulis like + clouded jades, with glistening peacock iridescences and tender, milky + greens of tropic shallows. + </p> + <p> + Little turrets globular and topaz, yellow and pierced with tiny hexagonal + openings clustered about it like baby bubbles just nestling down to rest. + </p> + <p> + Great trees shadowed it, unfamiliar trees among whose glossy leaves + blossomed in wreaths flowers pink and white as apple-blossoms. From their + graceful branches strange fruits, golden and scarlet and pear-shaped, hung + pendulous. + </p> + <p> + It was an elfin palace; a goblin dwelling; such a bower as some mirthful, + beauty-loving Jinn King of Jewels might have built from enchanted hoards + for some well-beloved daughter of earth. + </p> + <p> + All of fifty feet in height was the blue globe, and up to a wide and + ovaled entrance ran a broad and shining roadway. Along this the cubes + swept and stopped. + </p> + <p> + “My house,” murmured Norhala. + </p> + <p> + The attraction that had held us to the surface of the blocks relaxed, + angled through changed and assisting lines of force; the hosts of minute + eyes sparkling quizzically, interestedly, at us, we gently slid Ventnor's + body; lifted down the pony. + </p> + <p> + “Enter,” sighed Norhala, and waved a welcoming hand. + </p> + <p> + “Tell her to wait a minute,” ordered Drake. + </p> + <p> + He slipped the bandage from off the pony's head, threw off the saddlebags, + and led it to the side of the roadway where thick, lush grass was growing, + spangled with flowerets. There he hobbled it and rejoined us. Together we + picked up Ventnor and passed slowly through the portal. + </p> + <p> + We stood in a shadowed chamber. The light that filled it was translucent, + and oddly enough with little of the bluish quality I had expected. + Crystalline it was; the shadows crystalline, too, rigid—like the + facets of great crystals. And as my eyes accustomed themselves I saw that + what I had thought shadows actually were none. + </p> + <p> + They were slices of semitransparent stone like pale moonstones, springing + from the curving walls and the high dome, and bisecting and intersecting + the chamber. They were pierced with oval doorways over which fell + glimmering metallic curtains—silk of silver and gold. + </p> + <p> + I glimpsed a pile of this silken stuff near by, and as we laid our burden + upon it Ruth caught my arm with a little frightened cry. + </p> + <p> + Through a curtained oval sidled a figure. + </p> + <p> + Black and tall, its long and gnarled arms swung apelike; its shoulders + were distorted, one so much longer than the other that the hand upon that + side hung far below the knee. + </p> + <p> + It walked with a curious, crablike motion. Upon its face were stamped + countless wrinkles and its blackness seemed less that of pigmentation than + the weathering of unbelievable years, the very stain of ancientness. And + about neither face nor figure was there anything to show whether it was + man or woman. + </p> + <p> + From the twisted shoulders a short and sleeveless red tunic fell. + Incredibly old the creature was—and by its corded muscles, its + sinewy tendons, as incredibly powerful. It raised within me a half sick + revulsion, loathing. But the eyes were not ancient, no. Irisless, + lashless, black and brilliant, they blazed out of the face's carven web of + wrinkles, intent upon Norhala and filled with a flame of worship. + </p> + <p> + It threw itself at her feet, prostrate, the inordinately long arms + outstretched. + </p> + <p> + “Mistress!” it whined in a high and curiously unpleasant falsetto. “Great + lady! Goddess!” + </p> + <p> + She stretched out a sandaled foot, touched one of the black taloned hands, + and at the contact I saw a shiver of ecstasy run through the lank body. + “Yuruk—” she began, and paused, regarding us. + </p> + <p> + “The goddess speaks! Yuruk hears! The goddess speaks!” It was a chant of + adoration. + </p> + <p> + “Yuruk. Rise. Look upon the strangers.” + </p> + <p> + The creature—and now I knew what it was—writhed, twisted, and + hideously apelike crouched upon its haunches, hands knuckling the floor. + </p> + <p> + By the amazement in the unwinking eyes it was plain that not till now had + the eunuch taken cognizance of us. The amazement fled, was replaced with a + black fire of malignancy, of hatred—jealousy. + </p> + <p> + “Augh!” he snarled; leaped to his feet; thrust an arm toward Ruth. She + gave a little cry, cowered against Drake. + </p> + <p> + “None of that!” He struck down the clutching arm. + </p> + <p> + “Yuruk!” There was a hint of anger in the bell-toned voice. “Yuruk, these + belong to me. No harm must come to them. Yuruk—beware!” + </p> + <p> + “The goddess commands. Yuruk obeys.” If fear quavered in the words, + beneath was more than a trace of a sullenness, too, sinister enough. + </p> + <p> + “That's a nice little playmate for her new playthings,” muttered Drake. + “If that bird gets the least bit gay—I shoot him pronto.” He gave + Ruth a reassuring hug. “Cheer up, Ruth. Don't mind that thing. He's + something we can handle.” + </p> + <p> + Norhala waved a white hand; Yuruk sidled over to one of the curtained + ovals and through it, reappearing almost instantly with a huge platter + upon which were fruits, and a curdly white liquid in bowls of thick + porcelain. + </p> + <p> + “Eat,” she said, as the gnarled black arms placed the platter at our feet. + </p> + <p> + “Hungry?” asked Drake. Ruth shook her head violently. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going out for the saddlebags,” said Drake. “We'll use our own stuff—while + it lasts. I'm taking no chances on what the Yuruk lad brings—with + all due respect to Norhala's good intentions.” + </p> + <p> + He started for the doorway; the eunuch blocked his way. + </p> + <p> + “We have with us food of our own, Norhala,” I explained. “He goes to get + it.” + </p> + <p> + She nodded indifferently; clapped her hands. Yuruk shrank back, and out + strode Drake. + </p> + <p> + “I am weary,” sighed Norhala. “The way was long. I will refresh myself—” + </p> + <p> + She stretched out a foot toward Yuruk. He knelt, unlaced the turquoise + bands, drew off the sandals. Her hands sought her breast, dwelt for an + instant there. + </p> + <p> + Down slipped her silken veils, clingingly, slowly, as though reluctant to + unclasp her; whispering they fell from the high and tender breasts, the + delicate rounded hips, and clustered about her feet in soft petalings as + of some flower of pale amber foam. Out of the calyx of that flower arose + the gleaming miracle of her body crowned with glowing glory of her cloudy + hair. + </p> + <p> + Naked she was, yet clothed with an unearthly purity, the purity of the + far-flung, serene stars, of the eternal snows upon some calm, high-flung + peak, the tranquil, silver dawns of spring; protected by some spell of + divinity which chilled and slew the flame of desire. A maiden Ishtar, a + virginal Isis; a woman—yet with no more of woman's lure than if she + had been some exquisite and breathing statue of mingled ivory and milk of + pearls. + </p> + <p> + So she stood, indifferent to us who gazed upon her, withdrawn, musing, as + though she had forgotten us. And that serene indifference, with its entire + absence of what we term sex consciousness, revealed to me once more how + great was the abyss between us and her. + </p> + <p> + Slowly she raised her arms, wound the floating tresses into a coronal. I + saw Drake enter with the saddlebags; saw them drop from hands relaxing + under the shock of this amazing tableau; saw his eyes widen and fill with + wonder and half-awed admiration. + </p> + <p> + Now Norhala stepped out of her fallen robes and moved toward the further + wall, Yuruk following. He stooped, raised an ewer of silver and began + gently to pour over her shoulders its contents. Again and again he bent + and filled the vessel, dipping it into a shallow basin from which came the + bubbling and chuckling of a little spring. And again I marveled at the + marble smoothness and fineness of her skin on which the caressing water + left tiny silvery globules, gemming it. The eunuch slithered to one side, + drew from a quaint chest clothes of white floss; patted her dry with them; + threw over her shoulders a silken robe of blue. + </p> + <p> + Back she floated to us; hovered over Ruth, crouching with her brother's + head upon her knees. + </p> + <p> + She made a motion as though to draw the girl to her; hesitated as Ruth's + face set in a passion of denial. A shadow of kindness drifted through the + wide, mysterious eyes; a shadow of pity joined it as she looked curiously + down on Ventnor. + </p> + <p> + “Bathe,” she murmured, and pointed to the pool. “And rest. No harm shall + come to any of you here. And you—” A hand rested for a moment + lightly on the girl's curly head. “When you desire it—I will again + give you—peace!” + </p> + <p> + She parted the curtains, and the eunuch still following, was hidden beyond + them. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. “VOICE FROM THE VOID” + </h2> + <p> + Helplessly we looked at each other. Then called forth perhaps by what she + saw in Drake's eyes, perhaps by another thought, Ruth's cheeks crimsoned, + her head drooped; the web of her hair hid the warm rose of her face, the + frozen pallor of Ventnor's. + </p> + <p> + Abruptly, she sprang to her feet. “Walter! Dick! Something's happening to + Martin!” + </p> + <p> + Before she had ceased we were beside her; bending over Ventnor. His mouth + was opening, slowly, slowly—with an effort agonizing to watch. Then + his voice came through lips that scarcely moved; faint, faint as though it + floated from infinite distances, a ghost of a voice whispering with + phantom breath out of a dead throat. + </p> + <p> + “Hard—hard! So hard!” the whispering complained. “Don't know how + long I can keep connection—with voice. + </p> + <p> + “Was fool to shoot. Sorry—might have gotten you in worse trouble—but + crazy with fear for Ruth—thought, too, might be worth chance. Sorry—not + my usual line—” + </p> + <p> + The thin thread of sound ceased. I felt my eyes fill with tears; it was + like Ventnor to flay himself like this for what he thought stupidity, like + him to make this effort to admit his supposed fault and crave forgiveness—as + like him as that mad attack upon the flaming Disk in its own temple, + surrounded by its ministers, had been so bafflingly unlike his usual cool, + collected self. + </p> + <p> + “Martin,” I called, bending closer, “it's nothing, old friend. No one + blames you. Try to rouse yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear,” it was Ruth, passionately tender, “it's me. Can you hear me?” + </p> + <p> + “Only speck of consciousness and motionless in the void,” the whisper + began again. “Terribly alive, terribly alone. Seem outside space yet—still + in body. Can't see, hear, feel—short-circuited from every sense—but + in some strange way realize you—Ruth, Walter, Drake. + </p> + <p> + “See without seeing—here floating in darkness that is also light—black + light—indescribable. In touch, too, with these—” + </p> + <p> + Again the voice trailed into silence; returned, word and phrase pouring + forth disconnected, with a curious and turbulent rhythm, like rushing wave + crests linked by half-seen threads of the spindrift, vocal fragments of + thought swiftly assembled by some subtle faculty of the mind as they fell + into a coherent, incredible message. + </p> + <p> + “Group consciousness—gigantic—operating within our sphere—operating + also in spheres of vibration, energy, force—above, below one to + which humanity reacts—perception, command forces known to us—but + in greater degree—cognizant, manipulate unknown energies—senses + known to us—unknown—can't realize them fully—impossible + cover, only impinge on contact points akin to our senses, forces—even + these profoundly modified by additional ones—metallic, crystalline, + magnetic, electric—inorganic with every power of organic—consciousness + basically same as ours—profoundly changed by differences in + mechanism through which it finds expression—difference our bodies—theirs. + </p> + <p> + “Conscious, mobile—inexorable, invulnerable. Getting clearer—see + more clearly—see—” the voice shrilled out in a shuddering, + thin lash of despair—“No! No—oh, God—no!” + </p> + <p> + Then clearly and solemnly: + </p> + <p> + “And God said: let us make men in our image, after our likeness, and let + them have dominion over all the earth, and every creeping thing that + creepeth upon the earth.” + </p> + <p> + A silence; we bent closer, listening; the still, small voice took up the + thread once more—but clearly further on. Something we had missed + between that text from Genesis and what we were now hearing; something + that even as he had warned us, he had not been able to articulate. The + whisper broke through clearly in the middle of a sentence. + </p> + <p> + “Nor is Jehovah the God of myriads of millions who through those same + centuries, and centuries upon centuries before them, found earth a garden + and grave—and all these countless gods and goddesses only phantom + barriers raised by man to stand between him and the eternal forces man's + instinct has always warned him are ever in readiness to destroy. That do + destroy him as soon as his vigilance relaxes, his resistance weakens—the + eternal, ruthless law that will annihilate humanity the instant it runs + counter to that law and turns its will and strength against itself—” + </p> + <p> + A little pause; then came these singular sentences: + </p> + <p> + “Weaklings praying for miracles to make easy the path their own wills + should clear. Beggars who whine for alms from dreams. Shirkers each + struggling to place upon his god the burden whose carrying and whose + carrying alone can give him strength to walk free and unafraid, himself + godlike among the stars.” + </p> + <p> + And now distinctly, unfalteringly, the voice went on: + </p> + <p> + “Dominion over all the earth? Yes—as long as man is fit to rule; no + longer. Science has warned us. Where was the mammal when the giant + reptiles reigned? Slinking hidden and afraid in the dark and secret + places. Yet man sprang from these skulking beasts. + </p> + <p> + “For how long a time in the history of earth has man been master of it? + For a breath—for a cloud's passing. And will remain master only + until something grown stronger wrests mastery from him—even as he + wrested it from his ravening kind—as they took it from the reptiles—as + did the reptiles from the giant saurians—which snatched it from the + nightmare rulers of the Triassic—and so down to whatever held sway + in the murk of earth dawn. + </p> + <p> + “Life! Life! Life! Life everywhere struggling for completion! + </p> + <p> + “Life crowding other life aside, battling for its moment of supremacy, + gaining it, holding it for one rise and fall of the wings of time beating + through eternity—and then—hurled down, trampled under the feet + of another straining life whose hour has struck. + </p> + <p> + “Life crowding outside every barred threshold in a million circling + worlds, yes, in a million rushing universes; pressing against the doors, + bursting them down, overwhelming, forcing out those dwellers who had + thought themselves so secure. + </p> + <p> + “And these—these—” the voice suddenly dropped, became thickly, + vibrantly resonant, “over the Threshold, within the House of Man—nor + does he even dream that his doors are down. These—Things of metal + whose brains are thinking crystals—Things that suck their strength + from the sun and whose blood is the lightning. + </p> + <p> + “The sun! The sun!” he cried. “There lies their weakness!” + </p> + <p> + The voice rose in pitch, grew strident. + </p> + <p> + “Go back to the city! Go back to the city! Walter—Drake. They are + not invulnerable. No! The sun—strike them through the sun! Go into + the city—not invulnerable—the Keeper of the Cones—strike + at the Cones when—the Keeper of the Cones—ah-h-h-ah—” + </p> + <p> + We shrank back appalled, for from the parted, scarcely moving lips in the + unchanging face a gust of laughter, mad, mocking, terrifying, racked its + way. + </p> + <p> + “Vulnerable—under the law—even as we! The Cones! + </p> + <p> + “Go!” he gasped. A tremor shook him; slowly the mouth closed. + </p> + <p> + “Martin! Brother,” wept Ruth. I thrust my hand into his breast; felt the + heart beating, with a curious suggestion of stubborn, unshakable strength, + as though every vital force had concentrated there as in a beleaguered + citadel. + </p> + <p> + But Ventnor himself, the consciousness that was Ventnor was gone; had + withdrawn into that subjective void in which he had said he floated—a + lonely sentient atom, his one line of communication with us cut; severed + from us as completely as though he were, as he had described it, outside + space. + </p> + <p> + And Drake and I looked at each other's eyes, neither daring to be first to + break the silence of which the muffled sobbing of the girl seemed to be + the sorrowful soul. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. “FREE! BUT A MONSTER!” + </h2> + <p> + The peculiar ability of the human mind to slip so readily into the refuge + of the commonplace after, or even during, some well-nigh intolerable + crisis, has been to me long one of the most interesting phenomena of our + psychology. + </p> + <p> + It is instinctively a protective habit, of course, acquired through + precisely the same causes that had given to animals their protective + coloration—the stripes, say, of the zebra and tiger that blend so + cunningly with the barred and speckled shadowings of bush and jungle, the + twig and leaflike shapes and hues of certain insects; in fact, all that + natural camouflage which was the basis of the art of concealment so + astonishingly developed in the late war. + </p> + <p> + Like the animals of the wild, the mind of man moves through a jungle—the + jungle of life, passing along paths beaten out by the thought of his + countless forefathers in their progress from birth to death. + </p> + <p> + And these paths are bordered and screened, figuratively and literally, + with bush and trees of his own selection, setting out and cultivation—shelters + of the familiar, the habitual, the customary. + </p> + <p> + On these ancestral paths, within these barriers of usage, man moves hidden + and secure as the animals in their haunts—or so he thinks. + </p> + <p> + Outside them lie the wildernesses and the gardens of the unknown, and + man's little trails are but rabbit-runs in an illimitable forest. + </p> + <p> + But they are home to him! + </p> + <p> + Therefore it is that he scurries from some open place of revelation, some + storm of emotion, some strength-testing struggle, back into the shelter of + the obvious; finding it an intellectual environment that demands no + slightest expenditure of mental energy or initiative, strength to sally + forth again into the unfamiliar. + </p> + <p> + I crave pardon for this digression. I set it down because now I remember + how, when Drake at last broke the silence that had closed in upon the + passing of that still, small voice the essence of these thoughts occurred + to me. + </p> + <p> + He strode over to the weeping girl, and in his voice was a roughness that + angered me until I realized his purpose. + </p> + <p> + “Get up, Ruth,” he ordered. “He came back once and he'll come back again. + Now let him be and help us get a meal together. I'm hungry.” + </p> + <p> + She looked up at him, incredulously, indignation rising. + </p> + <p> + “Eat!” she exclaimed. “You can be hungry?” + </p> + <p> + “You bet I can—and I am,” he answered cheerfully. “Come on; we've + got to make the best of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ruth,” I broke in gently, “we'll all have to think about ourselves a + little if we're to be of any use to him. You must eat—and then + rest.” + </p> + <p> + “No use crying in the milk even if it's spilt,” observed Drake, even more + cheerfully brutal. “I learned that at the front where we got so we'd yelp + for food even when the lads who'd been bringing it were all mixed up in + it.” + </p> + <p> + She lifted Ventnor's head from her lap, rested it on the silks; arose, + eyes wrathful, her little hands closed in fists as though to strike him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh—you brute!” she whispered. “And I thought—I thought—Oh, + I hate you!” + </p> + <p> + “That's better,” said Dick. “Go ahead and hit me if you want. The madder + you get the better you'll feel.” + </p> + <p> + For a moment I thought she was going to take him at his word; then her + anger fled. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks—Dick,” she said quietly. + </p> + <p> + And while I sat studying Ventnor, they put together a meal from the + stores, brewed tea over the spirit-lamp with water from the bubbling + spring. In these commonplaces I knew that she at least was finding relief + from that strain of the abnormal under which we had labored so long. To my + surprise I found that I was hungry, and with deep relief I watched Ruth + partake of food and drink even though lightly. + </p> + <p> + About her seemed to hover something of the ethereal, elusive, and + disquieting. Was it the strangely pellucid light that gave the effect, I + wondered; and knew it was not, for as I scanned her covertly, there fell + upon her face that shadow of inhuman tranquillity, of unearthly withdrawal + which, I guessed, had more than anything else maddened Ventnor into his + attack upon the Disk. + </p> + <p> + I watched her fight against it, drive it back. White lipped, she raised + her head and met my gaze. And in her eyes I read both terror and—shame. + </p> + <p> + It came to me that painful as it might be for her the time for questioning + had come. + </p> + <p> + “Ruth,” I said, “I know it's not necessary to remind you that we're in a + tight place. Every fact and every scrap of knowledge that we can lay hold + of is of the utmost importance in enabling us to determine our course. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to repeat your brother's question—what did Norhala do to + you? And what happened when you were floating before the Disk?” + </p> + <p> + The blaze of interest in Drake's eyes at these questions changed to + amazement at her stricken recoil from them. + </p> + <p> + “There was nothing,” she whispered—then defiantly—“nothing. I + don't know what you mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Ruth!” I spoke sharply now, in my own perplexity. “You do know. You must + tell us—for his sake.” I pointed toward Ventnor. + </p> + <p> + She drew a long breath. + </p> + <p> + “You're right—of course,” she said unsteadily. “Only I—I + thought maybe I could fight it out myself. But you'll have to know it—there's + a taint upon me.” + </p> + <p> + I caught in Drake's swift glance the echo of my own thrill of apprehension + for her sanity. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said, now quietly. “Some new and alien thing within my heart, + my brain, my soul. It came to me from Norhala when we rode the flying + block, and—he—sealed upon me when I was in—his”—again + she crimsoned, “embrace.” + </p> + <p> + And as we gazed at her, incredulously: + </p> + <p> + “A thing that urges me to forget you two—and Martin—and all + the world I've known. That tries to pull me from you—from all—to + drift untroubled in some vast calm filled with an ordered ecstasy of + peace. And whose calling I want, God help me, oh, so desperately to heed! + </p> + <p> + “It whispered to me first,” she said, “from Norhala—when she put her + arm around me. It whispered and then seemed to float from her and cover me + like—like a veil, and from head to foot. It was a quietness and + peace that held within it a happiness at one and the same time utterly + tranquil and utterly free. + </p> + <p> + “I seemed to be at the doorway to unknown ecstasies—and the life I + had known only a dream—and you, all of you—even Martin, dreams + within a dream. You weren't—real—and you did not—matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Hypnotism,” muttered Drake, as she paused. + </p> + <p> + “No.” She shook her head. “No—more than that. The wonder of it grew—and + grew. I thrilled with it. I remember nothing of that ride, saw nothing—except + that once through the peace enfolding me pierced warning that Martin was + in peril, and I broke through to see him clutching Norhala and to see + floating up in her eyes death for him. + </p> + <p> + “And I saved him—and again forgot. Then, when I saw that beautiful, + flaming Shape—I felt no terror, no fear—only a tremendous—joyous—anticipation, + as though—as though—” She faltered, hung her head, then + leaving that sentence unfinished, whispered: “and when—it—lifted + me it was as though I had come at last out of some endless black ocean of + despair into the full sun of paradise.” + </p> + <p> + “Ruth!” cried Drake, and at the pain in his cry she winced. + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” she said, and held up a little, tremulous hand. “You asked—and + now you must listen.” + </p> + <p> + She was silent; and when once more she spoke her voice was low, curiously + rhythmic; her eyes rapt: + </p> + <p> + “I was free—free from every human fetter of fear or sorrow or love + or hate; free even of hope—for what was there to hope for when + everything desirable was mine? And I was elemental; one with the eternal + things yet fully conscious that I was—I. + </p> + <p> + “It was as though I were the shining shadow of a star afloat upon the + breast of some still and hidden woodland pool; as though I were a little + wind dancing among the mountain tops; a mist whirling down a quiet glen; a + shimmering lance of the aurora pulsing in the high solitudes. + </p> + <p> + “And there was music—strange and wondrous music and terrible, but + not terrible to me—who was part of it. Vast chords and singing + themes that rang like clusters of little swinging stars and harmonies that + were like the very voice of infinite law resolving within itself all + discords. And all—all—passionless, yet—rapturous. + </p> + <p> + “Out of the Thing that held me, out from its fires pulsed vitality—a + flood of inhuman energy in which I was bathed. And it was as though this + energy were—reassembling me, fitting me even closer to the elemental + things, changing me fully into them. + </p> + <p> + “I felt the little tendrils touching, caressing—then came the shots. + Awakening was—dreadful, a struggling back from drowning. I saw + Martin—blasted. I drove the—the spell away from me, tore it + away. + </p> + <p> + “And, O Walter—Dick—it hurt—it hurt—and for a + breath before I ran to him it was like—like coming from a world in + which there was no disorder, no sorrow, no doubts, a rhythmic, harmonious + world of light and music, into—into a world that was like a black + and dirty kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “And it's there,” her voice rose, hysterically. “It's still within me—whispering, + whispering; urging me away from you, from Martin, from every human thing; + bidding me give myself up, surrender my humanity. + </p> + <p> + “Its seal,” she sobbed. “No—HIS seal! An alien consciousness sealed + within me, that tries to make the human me a slave—that waits to + overcome my will—and if I surrender gives me freedom, an incredible + freedom—but makes me, being still human, a—monster.” + </p> + <p> + She hid her face in her hands, quivering. + </p> + <p> + “If I could sleep,” she wailed. “But I'm afraid to sleep. I think I shall + never sleep again. For sleeping how do I know what I may be when I wake?” + </p> + <p> + I caught Drake's eye; he nodded. I slipped my hand down into the + medicine-case, brought forth a certain potent and tasteless combination of + drugs which I carry upon explorations. + </p> + <p> + I dropped a little into her cup, then held it to her lips. Like a child, + unthinking, she obeyed and drank. + </p> + <p> + “But I'll not surrender.” Her eyes were tragic. “Never think it! I can win—don't + you know I can?” + </p> + <p> + “Win?” Drake dropped down beside her, drew her toward him. “Bravest girl + I've known—of course you'll win. And remember this—nine-tenths + of what you're thinking now is purely over-wrought nerves and weariness. + You'll win—and we'll win, never doubt it.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't,” she said. “I know it—oh, it will be hard—but I will—I + will—” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. THE HOUSE OF NORHALA + </h2> + <p> + Her eyes closed, her body relaxed; the potion had done its work quickly. + We laid her beside Ventnor on the pile of silken stuffs, covered them both + with a fold, then looked at each other long and silently—and I + wondered whether my face was as grim and drawn as his. + </p> + <p> + “It appears,” he said at last, curtly, “that it's up to you and me for + powwow quick. I hope you're not sleepy.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not,” I answered as curtly; the edge of nerves in his manner of + questioning doing nothing to soothe my own, “and even if I were I would + hardly expect to put all the burden of the present problem upon you by + going to sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “For God's sake don't be a prima donna,” he flared up. “I meant no + offense.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry, Dick,” I said. “We're both a little jumpy, I guess.” He + nodded; gripped my hand. + </p> + <p> + “It wouldn't be so bad,” he muttered, “if all four of us were all right. + But Ventnor's down and out, and God alone knows for how long. And Ruth—has + all the trouble we have and some special ones of her own. I've an idea”—he + hesitated—“an idea that there was no exaggeration in that story she + told—an idea that if anything she underplayed it.” + </p> + <p> + “I, too,” I replied somberly. “And to me it is the most hideous phase of + this whole situation—and for reasons not all connected with Ruth,” I + added. + </p> + <p> + “Hideous!” he repeated. “Unthinkable—yet all this is unthinkable. + And still—it is! And Ventnor—coming back—that way. Like + a lost soul finding voice. + </p> + <p> + “Was it raving, Goodwin? Or could he have been—how was it he put it—in + touch with these Things and their purpose? Was that message—truth?” + </p> + <p> + “Ask yourself that question,” I said. “Man—you know it was truth. + Had not inklings of it come to you even before he spoke? They had to me. + His message was but an interpretation, a synthesis of facts I, for one, + lacked the courage to admit.” + </p> + <p> + “I, too,” he nodded. “But he went further than that. What did he mean by + the Keeper of the Cones—and that the Things—were vulnerable + under the same law that orders us? And why did he command us to go back to + the city? How could he know—how could he?” + </p> + <p> + “There's nothing inexplicable in that, at any rate,” I answered. “Abnormal + sensitivity of perception due to the cutting off of all sensual + impressions. There's nothing uncommon in that. You have its most familiar + form in the sensitivity of the blind. You've watched the same thing at + work in certain forms of hypnotic experimentation, haven't you? + </p> + <p> + “Through the operation of entirely understandable causes the mind gains + the power to react to vibrations that normally pass unperceived; is able + to project itself through this keying up of perception into a wider area + of consciousness than the normal. Just as in certain diseases of the ear + the sufferer, though deaf to sounds within the average range of hearing, + is fully aware of sound vibrations far above and far below those the + healthy ear registers.” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” he said. “I don't need to be convinced. But we accept these + things in theory—and when we get up against them for ourselves we + doubt. + </p> + <p> + “How many people are there in Christendom, do you think, who believe that + the Saviour ascended from the dead, but who if they saw it today would + insist upon medical inspection, doctor's certificates, a clinic, and even + after that render a Scotch verdict? I'm not speaking irreverently—I'm + just stating a fact.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he moved away from me, strode over to the curtained oval through + which Norhala had gone. + </p> + <p> + “Dick,” I cried, following him hastily, “where are you going? What are you + going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm going after Norhala,” he answered. “I'm going to have a showdown with + her or know the reason why.” + </p> + <p> + “Drake,” I cried again, aghast, “don't make the mistake Ventnor did. + That's not the way to win through. Don't—I beg you, don't.” + </p> + <p> + “You're wrong,” he answered stubbornly. “I'm going to get her. She's got + to talk.” + </p> + <p> + He thrust out a hand to the curtains. Before he could touch them, they + were parted. Out from between them slithered the black eunuch. He stood + motionless, regarding us; in the ink-black eyes a red flame of hatred. I + pushed myself between him and Drake. + </p> + <p> + “Where is your mistress, Yuruk?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “The goddess has gone,” he replied sullenly. + </p> + <p> + “Gone?” I said suspiciously, for certainly Norhala had not passed us. + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “Who shall question the goddess?” he asked. “She comes and she goes as she + pleases.” + </p> + <p> + I translated this for Drake. + </p> + <p> + “He's got to show me,” he said. “Don't think I'm going to spill any beans, + Goodwin. But I want to talk to her. I think I'm right, honestly I do.” + </p> + <p> + After all, I reflected, there was much in his determination to recommend + it. It was the obvious thing to do—unless we admitted that Norhala + was superhuman; and that I would not admit. In command of forces we did + not yet know, en rapport with these People of Metal, sealed with that + alien consciousness Ruth had described—all these, yes. But still a + woman—of that I was certain. And surely Drake could be trusted not + to repeat Ventnor's error. + </p> + <p> + “Yuruk,” I said, “we think you lie. We would speak to your mistress. Take + us to her.” + </p> + <p> + “I have told you that the goddess is not here,” he said. “If you do not + believe it is nothing to me. I cannot take you to her for I do not know + where she is. Is it your wish that I take you through her house?” + </p> + <p> + “It is,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “The goddess has commanded me to serve you in all things.” He bowed, + sardonically. “Follow.” + </p> + <p> + Our search was short. We stepped out into what for want of better words I + can describe only as a central hall. It was circular, and strewn with + thick piled small rugs whose hues had been softened by the alchemy of time + into exquisite, shadowy echoes of color. + </p> + <p> + The walls of this hall were of the same moonstone substance that had + enclosed the chamber upon whose inner threshold we were. They whirled + straight up to the dome in a crystalline, cylindrical cone. Four doorways + like that in which we stood pierced them. Through each of their + curtainings in turn we peered. + </p> + <p> + All were precisely similar in shape and proportions, radiating in a + lunetted, curved base triangle from the middle chamber; the curvature of + the enclosing globe forming back wall and roof; the translucent slicings + the sides; the circle of floor of the inner hall the truncating lunette. + </p> + <p> + The first of these chambers was utterly bare. The one opposite held a + half-dozen suits of the lacquered armor, as many wicked looking, short and + double-edged swords and long javelins. The third I judged to be the lair + of Yuruk; within it was a copper brazier, a stand of spears and a gigantic + bow, a quiver full of arrows leaning beside it. The fourth room was + littered with coffers great and small, of wood and of bronze, and all + tightly closed. + </p> + <p> + The fifth room was beyond question Norhala's bedchamber. Upon its floor + the ancient rugs were thick. A low couch of carven ivory inset with gold + rested a few feet from the doorway. A dozen or more of the chests were + scattered about and flowing over with silken stuffs. + </p> + <p> + Upon the back of four golden lions stood a high mirror of polished silver. + And close to it, in curiously incongruous domestic array stood a stiffly + marshaled row of sandals. Upon one of the chests were heaped combs and + fillets of shell and gold and ivory studded with jewels blue and yellow + and crimson. + </p> + <p> + To all of these we gave but a passing glance. We sought for Norhala. And + of her we found no shadow. She had gone even as the black eunuch had said; + flitting unseen past Ruth, perhaps, absorbed in her watch over her + brother; perhaps through some hidden opening in this room of hers. + </p> + <p> + Yuruk let drop the curtains, sidled back to the first room, we after him. + The two there had not moved. We drew the saddlebags close, propped + ourselves against them. + </p> + <p> + The black eunuch squatted a dozen feet away, facing us, chin upon his + knees, taking us in with unblinking eyes blank of any emotion. Then he + began to move slowly his tremendously long arms in easy, soothing motion, + the hands running along the floor upon their talons in arcs and circles. + It was curious how these hands seemed to be endowed with a volition of + their own, independent of the arms upon which they swung. + </p> + <p> + And now I could see only the hands, shuttling so smoothly, so rhythmically + back and forth—weaving so sleepily, so sleepily back and forth—black + hands that dripped sleep—hypnotic. + </p> + <p> + Hypnotic! I sprang from the lethargy closing upon me. In one quick side + glance I saw Drake's head nodding—nodding in time to the movement of + the black hands. I jumped to my feet, shaking with an intensity of rage + unfamiliar to me; thrust my pistol into the wrinkled face. + </p> + <p> + “Damn you!” I cried. “Stop that. Stop it and turn your back.” + </p> + <p> + The corded muscles of the arms contracted, the claws of the slithering + paws drew in as though he were about to clutch me; the ebon pools of eyes + were covered with a frozen film of hate. + </p> + <p> + He could not have known what was this tube with which I menaced him, but + its threat he certainly sensed and was afraid to meet. He squattered + about, wrapped his arms around his knees, crouched with back toward us. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” asked Drake drowsily. + </p> + <p> + “He tried to hypnotize us,” I answered shortly. “And pretty nearly did.” + </p> + <p> + “So that's what it was.” He was now wide awake. “I watched those hands of + his and got sleepier and sleepier—I guess we'd better tie Mr. Yuruk + up.” He jumped to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “No,” I said, restraining him. “No. He's safe enough as long as we're on + the alert. I don't want to use any force on him yet. Wait until we know we + can get something worth while by doing it.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” he nodded, grimly. “But when the time comes I'm telling you + straight, Doc, I'm going the limit. There's something about that human + spider that makes me itch to squash him—slowly.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll have no compunction—when it's worth while,” I answered as + grimly. + </p> + <p> + We sank down again against the saddlebags; Drake brought out a black pipe, + looked at it sorrowfully; at me appealingly. + </p> + <p> + “All mine was on that pony that bolted,” I answered his wistfulness. + </p> + <p> + “All mine was on my beast, too,” he sighed. “And I lost my pouch in that + spurt from the ruins.” + </p> + <p> + He sighed again, clamped white teeth down upon the stem. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” he said at last, “if Ventnor was right in that—that + disembodied analysis of his, it's rather—well, terrifying, isn't + it?” + </p> + <p> + “It's all of that,” I replied, “and considerably more.” + </p> + <p> + “Metal, he said,” Drake mused. “Things of metal with brains of thinking + crystal and their blood the lightnings. You accept that?” + </p> + <p> + “So far as my own observation has gone—yes,” I said. “Metallic yet + mobile. Inorganic but with all the quantities we have hitherto thought + only those of the organic and with others added. Crystalline, of course, + in structure and highly complex. Activated by magnetic-electric forces + consciously exerted and as much a part of their life as brain energy and + nerve currents are of our human life. Animate, moving, sentient + combinations of metal and electric energy.” + </p> + <p> + He said: + </p> + <p> + “The opening of the Disk from the globe and of the two blasting stars from + the pyramids show the flexibility of the outer—plate would you call + it? I couldn't help thinking of the armadillo after I had time to think at + all.” + </p> + <p> + “It may be”—I struggled against the conviction now strong upon me—“it + may be that within that metallic shell is an organic body, something soft—animal, + as there is within the horny carapace of the turtle, the nacreous valves + of the oyster, the shells of the crustaceans—it may be that even + their inner surface is organic—” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he interrupted, “if there is a body—as we know a body—it + must be between the outer surface and the inner, for the latter is + crystal, jewel hard, impenetrable. + </p> + <p> + “Goodwin—Ventnor's bullets hit fair. I saw them strike. They did not + ricochet—they dropped dead. Like flies dashed up against a rock—and + the Thing was no more conscious of their striking than a rock would have + been of those flies.” + </p> + <p> + “Drake,” I said, “my own conviction is that these creatures are absolutely + metallic, entirely inorganic—incredible, unknown forms. Let us go on + that basis.” + </p> + <p> + “I think so, too,” he nodded; “but I wanted you to say it first. And yet—is + it so incredible, Goodwin? What is the definition of vital intelligence—sentience? + </p> + <p> + “Haeckel's is the accepted one. Anything which can receive a stimulus, + that can react to a stimulus and retains memory of a stimulus must be + called an intelligent, conscious entity. The gap between what we have long + called the organic and the inorganic is steadily decreasing. Do you know + of the remarkable experiments of Lillie upon various metals?” + </p> + <p> + “Vaguely,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Lillie,” he went on, “proved that under the electric current and other + exciting mediums metals exhibited practically every reaction of the human + nerve and muscle. It grew weary, rested, and after resting was perceptibly + stronger than before; it got what was practically indigestion, and it + exhibited a peculiar but unmistakable memory. Also, he found, it could + acquire disease and die. + </p> + <p> + “Lillie concluded that there existed a real metallic consciousness. It was + Le Bon who first proved also that metal is more sensitive than man, and + that its immobility is only apparent. (Le Bon in 'Evolution of Matter,' + Chapter eleven.) + </p> + <p> + “Take the block of magnetic iron that stands so gray and apparently + lifeless, subject it to a magnetic current lifeless, what happens? The + iron block is composed of molecules which under ordinary conditions are + disposed in all possible directions indifferently. But when the current + passes through there is tremendous movement in that apparently inert mass. + All of the tiny particles of which it is composed turn and shift until + their north poles all point more or less approximately in the direction of + the magnetic force. + </p> + <p> + “When that happens the block itself becomes a magnet, filled with and + surrounded by a field of magnetic energy; instinct with it. Outwardly it + has not moved; actually there has been prodigious motion.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is not conscious motion,” I objected. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but how do you know?” he asked. “If Jacques Loeb* is right, that + action of the iron molecules is every bit as conscious a movement as the + least and the greatest of our own. There is absolutely no difference + between them. + </p> + <p> + “Your and my and its every movement is nothing but an involuntary and + inevitable reaction to a certain stimulus. If he's right, then I'm a + buttercup—but that's neither here nor there. Loeb—all he did + was to restate destiny, one of humanity's oldest ideas, in the terms of + tropisms, infusoria and light. Omar Khayyam chemically reincarnated in the + Rockefeller Institute. Nevertheless those who accept his theories have to + admit that there is essentially no difference between their impulses and + the rush of filings toward a magnet. + </p> + <p> + “Equally nevertheless, Goodwin, the iron does meet Haeckel's three tests—it + can receive a stimulus, it does react to that stimulus and it retains + memory of it; for even after the current has ceased it remains changed in + tensile strength, conductivity and other qualities that were modified by + the passage of that current; and as time passes this memory fades. + Precisely as some human experience increases wariness, caution, which + keying up of qualities remains with us after the experience has passed, + and fades away in the ratio of our sensitivity plus retentiveness divided + by the time elapsing from the original experience—exactly as it is + in the iron.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Professor Jacques Loeb, of the Rockefeller Institute, New + York, “The Mechanistic Conception of Life.” + </pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. CONSCIOUS METAL! + </h2> + <p> + “Granted,” I acquiesced. “We now come to their means of locomotion. In its + simplest terms all locomotion is progress through space against the force + of gravitation. Man's walk is a series of rhythmic stumbles against this + force that constantly strives to drag him down to earth's face and keep + him pressed there. Gravitation is an etheric—magnetic vibration akin + to the force which holds, to use your simile again, Drake, the filing + against the magnet. A walk is a constant breaking of the current. + </p> + <p> + “Take a motion picture of a man walking and run it through the lantern + rapidly and he seems to be flying. We have none of the awkward fallings + and recoveries that are the tempo of walking as we see it. + </p> + <p> + “I take it that the movement of these Things is a conscious breaking of + the gravitational current just as much as is our own movement, but by a + rhythm so swift that it appears to be continuous. + </p> + <p> + “Doubtless if we could so control our sight as to admit the vibrations of + light slowly enough we would see this apparently smooth motion as a series + of leaps—just as we do when the motion-picture operator slows down + his machine sufficiently to show us walking in a series of stumbles. + </p> + <p> + “Very well—so far, then, we have nothing in this phenomenon which + the human mind cannot conceive as possible; therefore intellectually we + still remain masters of the phenomena; for it is only that which human + thought cannot encompass which it need fear.” + </p> + <p> + “Metallic,” he said, “and crystalline. And yet—why not? What are we + but bags of skin filled with certain substances in solution and stretched + over a supporting and mobile mechanism largely made up of lime? Out of + that primeval jelly which Gregory * calls Protobion came after untold + millions of years us with our skins, our nails, and our hair; came, too, + the serpents with their scales, the birds with their feathers; the horny + hide of the rhinoceros and the fairy wings of the butterfly; the shell of + the crab, the gossamer loveliness of the moth and the shimmering wonder of + the mother-of-pearl. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * J. W. Gregory, F.R.S.D.Sc., Professor of Geology, + University of Glasgow. +</pre> + <p> + “Is there any greater gap between any of these and the metallic? I think + not.” + </p> + <p> + “Not materially,” I answered. “No. But there remains—consciousness!” + </p> + <p> + “That,” he said, “I cannot understand. Ventnor spoke of—how did he + put it?—a group consciousness, operating in our sphere and in + spheres above and below ours, with senses known and unknown. I got—glimpses—Goodwin, + but I cannot understand.” + </p> + <p> + “We have agreed for reasons that seem sufficient to us to call these + Things metallic, Dick,” I replied. “But that does not necessarily mean + that they are composed of any metal that we know. Nevertheless, being + metal, they must be of crystalline structure. + </p> + <p> + “As Gregory has pointed out, crystals and what we call living matter had + an equal start in the first essentials of life. We cannot conceive life + without giving it the attribute of some sort of consciousness. Hunger + cannot be anything but conscious, and there is no other stimulus to eat + but hunger. + </p> + <p> + “The crystals eat. The extraction of power from food is conscious because + it is purposeful, and there can be no purpose without consciousness; + similarly the power to work from such derived energy is also purposeful + and therefore conscious. The crystals do both. And the crystals can + transmit all these abilities to their children, just as we do. For + although there would seem to be no reason why they should not continue to + grow to gigantic size under favorable conditions—yet they do not. + They reach a size beyond which they do not develop. + </p> + <p> + “Instead, they bud—give birth, in fact—to smaller ones, which + increase until they reach the size of the preceding generation. And like + the children of man and animals, these younger generations grow on + precisely as their progenitors! + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then—we arrive at the conception of a metallically + crystalline being, which by some explosion of the force of evolution has + burst from the to us familiar and apparently inert stage into these Things + that hold us. And is there any greater difference between the forms with + which we are familiar and them than there is between us and the crawling + amphibian which is our remote ancestor? Or between that and the amoeba—the + little swimming stomach from which it evolved? Or the amoeba and the inert + jelly of the Protobion? + </p> + <p> + “As for what Ventnor calls a group consciousness I would assume that he + means a communal intelligence such as that shown by the bees and the ants—that + in the case of the former Maeterlinck calls the 'Spirit of the Hive.' It + is shown in their groupings—just as the geometric arrangement of + those groupings shows also clearly their crystalline intelligence. + </p> + <p> + “I submit that in their rapid coordination either for attack or movement + or work without apparent communication having passed between the units, + there is nothing more remarkable than the swarming of a hive of bees where + also without apparent communication just so many waxmakers, nurses, + honey-gatherers, chemists, bread-makers, and all the varied specialists of + the hive go with the old queen, leaving behind sufficient number of each + class for the needs of the young queen. + </p> + <p> + “All this apportionment is effected without any means of communication + that we recognize. Still it is most obviously intelligent selection. For + if it were haphazard all the honeymakers might leave and the hive starve, + or all the chemists might go and the food for the young bees not be + properly prepared—and so on and so on.” + </p> + <p> + “But metal,” he muttered, “and conscious. It's all very well—but + where did that consciousness come from? And what is it? And where did they + come from? And most of all, why haven't they overrun the world before + this? + </p> + <p> + “Such development as theirs, such an evolution, presupposes aeons of time—long + as it took us to drag up from the lizards. What have they been doing—why + haven't they been ready to strike—if Ventnor's right—at + humanity until now?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” I answered, helplessly. “But evolution is not the slow, + plodding process that Darwin thought. There seem to be explosions—nature + will create a new form almost in a night. Then comes the long ages of + development and adjustment, and suddenly another new race appears. + </p> + <p> + “It might be so of these—some extraordinary conditions that shaped + them. Or they might have developed through the ages in spaces within the + earth—there's that incredible abyss we saw that is evidently one of + their highways. Or they might have dropped here upon some fragment of a + broken world, found in this valley the right conditions and developed in + amazing rapidity. * They're all possible theories—take your pick.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * Professor Svante Arrhenius's theory of propagation of life + by means of minute spores carried through space. See his + “Worlds in the Making.”—W.T.G. +</pre> + <p> + “Something's held them back—and they're rushing to a climax,” he + whispered. “Ventnor's right about that—I feel it. And what can we + do?” + </p> + <p> + “Go back to their city,” I said. “Go back as he ordered. I believe he + knows what he's talking about. And I believe he'll be able to help us. It + wasn't just a request he made, nor even an appeal—it was a command.” + </p> + <p> + “But what can we do—just two men—against these Things?” he + groaned. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe we'll find out—when we're back in the city,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” his old reckless cheerfulness came back to him, “in every crisis + of this old globe it's been up to one man to turn the trick. We're two. + And at the worst we can only go down fighting a little before the rest of + us. So, after all, whatEVER the hell, WHAT the hell.” + </p> + <p> + For a time we were silent. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said at last, “we have to go to the city in the morning.” He + laughed. “Sounds as though we were living in the suburbs, somehow, doesn't + it?” + </p> + <p> + “It can't be many hours before dawn,” I said. “Turn in for a while, I'll + wake you when I think you've slept enough.” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn't seem fair,” he protested, but sleepily. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not sleepy,” I told him; nor was I. + </p> + <p> + But whether I was or not, I wanted to question Yuruk, uninterrupted and + undisturbed. + </p> + <p> + Drake stretched himself out. When his breathing showed him fast asleep + indeed, I slipped over to the black eunuch and crouched, right hand close + to the butt of my automatic, facing him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. YURUK + </h2> + <p> + “Yuruk,” I whispered, “you love us as the wheat field loves the hail; we + are as welcome to you as the death cord to the condemned. Lo, a door + opened into a land of unpleasant dreams you thought sealed, and we came + through. Answer my questions truthfully and it may be that we shall return + through that door.” + </p> + <p> + Interest welled up in the depths of the black eyes. + </p> + <p> + “There is a way from here,” he muttered. “Nor does it pass through—Them. + I can show it to you.” + </p> + <p> + I had not been blind to the flash of malice, of cunning, that had shot + across the wrinkled face. + </p> + <p> + “Where does that way lead?” I asked. “There were those who sought us; men + clad in armor with javelins and arrows. Does your way lead to them, + Yuruk?” + </p> + <p> + For a time he hesitated, the lashless lids half closed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said sullenly. “The way leads to them; to their place. But will + it not be safer for you there—among your kind?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know that it will,” I answered promptly. “Those who are unlike us + smote those who are like us and drove them back when they would have taken + and slain us. Why is it not better to remain with them than to go to our + kind who would destroy us?” + </p> + <p> + “They would not,” he said “If you gave them—her.” He thrust a long + thumb backward toward sleeping Ruth. “Cherkis would forgive much for her. + And why should you not? She is only a woman.” + </p> + <p> + He spat—in a way that made me want to kill him. + </p> + <p> + “Besides,” he ended, “have you no arts to amuse him?” + </p> + <p> + “Cherkis?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Cherkis,” he whined. “Is Yuruk a fool not to know that in the world + without, new things have arisen since long ago we fled from Iskander into + the secret valley? What have you to beguile Cherkis beyond this woman + flesh? Much, I think. Go then to him—unafraid.” + </p> + <p> + Cherkis? There was a familiar sound to that. Cherkis? Of course—it + was the name of Xerxes, the Persian Conqueror, corrupted by time into this—Cherkis. + And Iskander? Equally, of course—Alexander. Ventnor had been right. + </p> + <p> + “Yuruk,” I demanded directly, “is she whom you call goddess—Norhala—of + the people of Cherkis?” + </p> + <p> + “Long ago,” he answered; “long, long ago there was trouble in their city, + even in the great dwelling place of Cherkis. I fled with her who was the + mother of the goddess. There were twenty of us; and we fled here—by + the way which I will show you—” + </p> + <p> + He leered cunningly; I gave no sign of interest. + </p> + <p> + “She who was the mother of the goddess found favor in the sight of the + ruler here,” he went on. “But after a time she grew old and ugly and + withered. So he slew her—like a little mound of dust she danced and + blew away after he had slain her; and also he slew others who had grown + displeasing to him. He blasted me—as he was blasted—” He + pointed to Ventnor. + </p> + <p> + “Then it was that, recovering, I found my crooked shoulder. The goddess + was born here. She is kin to Him Who Rules! How else could she shed the + lightnings? Was not the father of Iskander the god Zeus Ammon, who came to + Iskander's mother in the form of a great snake? Well? At any rate the + goddess was born—shedder of the lightnings even from her birth. And + she is as you see her. + </p> + <p> + “Cleave to your kind! Cleave to your kind!” Suddenly he shrilled. “Better + is it to be whipped by your brother than to be eaten by the tiger. Cleave + to your kind. Look—I will show you the way to them.” + </p> + <p> + He sprang to his feet, clasped my wrist in one of his long hands, led me + through the curtained oval into the cylindrical hall, parted the + curtainings of Norhala's bedroom and pushed me within. Over the floor he + slid, still holding fast to me, and pressed against the farther wall. + </p> + <p> + An ovoid slice of the gemlike material slid aside, revealing a doorway. I + glimpsed a path, a trail, leading into a forest pallid green beneath the + wan light. This way thrust itself like a black tongue into the boskage and + vanished in the depths. + </p> + <p> + “Follow it.” He pointed. “Take those who came with you and follow it.” + </p> + <p> + The wrinkles upon his face writhed with his eagerness. + </p> + <p> + “You will go?” panted Yuruk. “You will take them and go by that path?” + </p> + <p> + “Not yet,” I answered absently. “Not yet.” + </p> + <p> + And was brought abruptly to full alertness, vigilance, by the flame of + rage that filled the eyes thrust so close. + </p> + <p> + “Lead back,” I directed curtly. He slid the door into place, turned + sullenly. I followed, wondering what were the sources of the bitter hatred + he so plainly bore for us; the reasons for his eagerness to be rid of us + despite the commands of this woman who to him at least was goddess. + </p> + <p> + And by that curious human habit of seeking for the complex when the simple + answer lies close, failed to recognize that it was jealousy of us that was + the root of his behavior; that he wished to be, as it would seem he had + been for years, the only human thing near Norhala; failed to realize this, + and with Ruth and Drake was terribly to pay for this failure. + </p> + <p> + I looked down upon the pair, sleeping soundly; upon Ventnor lost still in + trance. + </p> + <p> + “Sit,” I ordered the eunuch. “And turn your back to me.” + </p> + <p> + I dropped down beside Drake, my mind wrestling with the mystery, but every + sense alert for movement from the black. Glibly enough I had passed over + Dick's questioning as to the consciousness of the Metal People; now I + faced it knowing it to be the very crux of these incredible phenomena; + admitting, too, that despite all my special pleading, about that point + swirled in my own mind the thickest mists of uncertainty. That their sense + of order was immensely beyond a man's was plain. + </p> + <p> + As plain was it that their knowledge of magnetic force and its + manipulation were far beyond the sphere of humanity. That they had + realization of beauty this palace of Norhala's proved—and no human + imagination could have conceived it nor human hands have made its thought + of beauty real. What were their senses through which their consciousness + fed? + </p> + <p> + Nine in number had been the sapphire ovals set within the golden zone of + the Disk. Clearly it came to me that these were sense organs! + </p> + <p> + But—nine senses! + </p> + <p> + And the great stars—how many had they? And the cubes—did they + open as did globe and pyramid? + </p> + <p> + Consciousness itself—after all what is it? A secretion of the brain? + The cumulative expression, wholly chemical, of the multitudes of cells + that form us? The inexplicable governor of the city of the body of which + these myriads of cells are the citizens—and created by them out of + themselves to rule? + </p> + <p> + Is it what many call the soul? Or is it a finer form of matter, a + self-realizing force, which uses the body as its vehicle just as other + forces use for their vestments other machines? After all, I thought, what + is this conscious self of ours, the ego, but a spark of realization + running continuously along the path of time within the mechanism we call + the brain; making contact along that path as the electric spark at the end + of a wire? + </p> + <p> + Is there a sea of this conscious force which laps the shores of the + farthest-flung stars; that finds expression in everything—man and + rock, metal and flower, jewel and cloud? Limited in its expression only by + the limitations of that which animates, and in essence the same in all. If + so, then this problem of the life of the Metal People ceased to be a + problem; was answered! + </p> + <p> + So thinking I became aware of increasing light; strode past Yuruk to the + door and peeped out. Dawn was paling the sky. I stooped over Drake, shook + him. On the instant he was awake, alert. + </p> + <p> + “I only need a little sleep, Dick,” I said. “When the sun is well up, call + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, it's dawn,” he whispered. “Goodwin, you ought not to have let me + sleep so long. I feel like a damned pig.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” I said. “But watch the eunuch closely.” + </p> + <p> + I rolled myself up in his warm blanket; sank almost instantly into + dreamless slumber. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. INTO THE PIT + </h2> + <p> + High was the sun when I awakened; or so, I supposed, opening my eyes upon + a flood of daylight. As I lay, lazily, recollection rushed upon me. + </p> + <p> + It was no sky into which I was gazing; it was the dome of Norhala's elfin + home. And Drake had not aroused me. Why? And how long had I slept? + </p> + <p> + I jumped to my feet, stared about. Ruth nor Drake nor the black eunuch was + there! + </p> + <p> + “Ruth!” I shouted. “Drake!” + </p> + <p> + There was no answer. I ran to the doorway. Peering up into the white vault + of the heavens I set the time of day as close to seven; I had slept then + three hours, more or less. Yet short as that time of slumber had been, I + felt marvelously refreshed, reenergized; the effect, I was certain, of the + extraordinarily tonic qualities of the atmosphere of this place. But where + were the others? Where Yuruk? + </p> + <p> + I heard Ruth's laughter. Some hundred yards to the left, half hidden by a + screen of flowering shrubs, I saw a small meadow. Within it a half-dozen + little white goats nuzzled around her and Dick. She was milking one of + them. + </p> + <p> + Reassured, I drew back into the chamber, knelt over Ventnor. His condition + was unchanged. My gaze fell upon the pool that had been Norhala's bath. + Longingly I looked at it; then satisfying myself that the milking process + was not finished, slipped off my clothes and splashed about. + </p> + <p> + I had just time to get back in my clothes when through the doorway came + the pair, each carrying a porcelain pannikin full of milk. + </p> + <p> + There was no shadow of fear or horror on her face. It was the old Ruth who + stood before me; nor was there effort in the smile she gave me. She had + been washed clean in the waters of sleep. + </p> + <p> + “Don't worry, Walter,” she said. “I know what you're thinking. But I'm—ME + again.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is Yuruk?” I turned to Drake bruskly to smother the sob of sheer + happiness I felt rising in my throat; and at his wink and warning grimace + abruptly forebore to press the question. + </p> + <p> + “You men pick out the things and I'll get breakfast ready,” said Ruth. + </p> + <p> + Drake picked up the teakettle and motioned me before him. + </p> + <p> + “About Yuruk,” he whispered when he had gotten outside. “I gave him a + little object lesson. Persuaded him to go down the line a bit, showed him + my pistol, and then picked off one of Norhala's goats with it. Hated to do + it, but I knew it would be good for his soul. + </p> + <p> + “He gave one screech and fell on his face and groveled. Thought it was a + lightning bolt, I figure; decided I had been stealing Norhala's stuff. + 'Yuruk,' I told him, 'that's what you'll get, and worse, if you lay a + finger on that girl inside there.'” + </p> + <p> + “And then what happened?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “He beat it back there.” He grinned, pointing toward the forest through + which ran the path the eunuch had shown me. “Probably hiding back of a + tree.” + </p> + <p> + As we filled the container at the outer spring, I told him of the + revelations and the offer Yuruk had made to me. + </p> + <p> + “Whew-w!” he whistled. “In the nutcracker, eh? Trouble behind us and + trouble in front of us.” + </p> + <p> + “When do we start?” he asked, as we turned back. + </p> + <p> + “Right after we've eaten,” I answered. “There's no use putting it off. How + do you feel about it?” + </p> + <p> + “Frankly, like the chief guest at a lynching party,” he said. “Curious but + none too cheerful.” + </p> + <p> + Nor was I. I was filled with a fever of scientific curiosity. But I was + not cheerful—no! + </p> + <p> + We ministered to Ventnor as well as we could; forcing open his set jaws, + thrusting a thin rubber tube down past his windpipe into his gullet and + dropping through it a few ounces of the goat milk. Our own breakfasting + was silent enough. + </p> + <p> + We could not take Ruth with us upon our journey; that was certain; she + must stay here with her brother. She would be safer in Norhala's home than + where we were going, of course, and yet to leave her was most distressing. + After all, I wondered, was there any need of both of us taking the + journey; would not one do just as well? + </p> + <p> + Drake could stay— + </p> + <p> + “No use of putting all our eggs in one basket,” I broached the subject. + “I'll go down by myself while you stay and help Ruth. You can always + follow if I don't turn up in a reasonable time.” + </p> + <p> + His indignation at this proposal was matched only by her own. + </p> + <p> + “You'll go with him, Dick Drake,” she cried, “or I'll never look at or + speak to you again!” + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord! Did you think for a minute I wouldn't?” Pain and wrath + struggled on his face. “We go together or neither of us goes. Ruth will be + all right here, Goodwin. The only thing she has any cause to fear is Yuruk—and + he's had his lesson. + </p> + <p> + “Besides, she'll have the rifles and her pistols, and she knows how to use + them. What d'ye mean by making such a proposition as that?” His + indignation burst all bounds. + </p> + <p> + Lamely I tried to justify myself. + </p> + <p> + “I'll be all right,” said Ruth. “I'm not afraid of Yuruk. And none of + these Things will hurt me—not after—not after—” Her eyes + fell, her lips quivered, then she faced us steadily. “Don't ask me how I + know that,” she said quietly. “Believe me, I do know it. I am closer to—them + than you two are. And if I choose I can call upon that alien strength + their master gave me. It is for you two that I fear.” + </p> + <p> + “No fear for us,” Drake burst out hastily. “We're Norhala's little + playthings. We're tabu. Take it from me, Ruth, I'd bet my head there isn't + one of these Things, great or small, and no matter how many, that doesn't + by this time know all about us. + </p> + <p> + “We'll probably be received with demonstrations of interest by the + populace as welcome guests. Probably we'll find a sign—'Welcome to + our City'—hung up over the front gate.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled, a trifle tremulously. + </p> + <p> + “We'll come back,” he said. Suddenly he leaned forward, put his hands on + her shoulders. “Do you think there is anything that could keep me from + coming back?” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + She trembled, wide eyes searching deep into his. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” I broke in, a bit uncomfortably, “we'd better be starting. I think + as Drake does, that we're tabu. Barring accident there's no danger. And if + I guess right about these Things, accident is impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “As inconceivable as the multiplication table going wrong,” he laughed, + straightening. + </p> + <p> + And so we made ready. Our rifles would be worse than useless, we knew; our + pistols we decided to carry as Drake put it, “for comfort.” Canteens + filled with water; a couple of emergency rations, a few instruments, + including a small spectroscope, a selection from the medical kit—all + these packed in a little haversack which he threw over his broad + shoulders. + </p> + <p> + I pocketed my compact but exceedingly powerful field-glasses. To my + poignant and everlasting regret my camera had been upon the bolting pony, + and Ventnor had long been out of films for his. + </p> + <p> + We were ready for our journey. + </p> + <p> + Our path led straight away, a smooth and dark-gray road whose surface + resembled cement packed under enormous pressure. It was all of fifty feet + wide and now, in daylight, glistened faintly as though overlaid with some + vitreous coating. It narrowed abruptly into a wedged way that stopped at + the threshold of Norhala's door. + </p> + <p> + Diminishing through the distance, it stretched straight as an arrow onward + and vanished between perpendicular cliffs which formed the frowning + gateway through which the night before we had passed upon the coursing + cubes from the pit of the city. Here, as then, a mistiness checked the + gaze. + </p> + <p> + Ruth with us, we made a brief inspection of the surroundings of Norhala's + house. It was set as though in the narrowest portion of an hour-glass. The + precipitous walls marched inward from the gateway forming the lower half + of the figure; at the back they swung apart at a wider angle. + </p> + <p> + This upper part of the hour-glass was filled with a park-like forest. It + was closed, perhaps twenty miles away, by a barrier of cliffs. + </p> + <p> + How, I wondered, did the path which Yuruk had pointed out to me pierce + them? Was it by pass or tunnel; and why was it the armored men had not + found and followed it? + </p> + <p> + The waist between these two mountain wedges was a valley not more than a + mile wide. Norhala's house stood in its center; and it was like a garden, + dotted with flowering and fragrant lilies and here and there a tiny green + meadow. The great globe of blue that was Norhala's dwelling seemed less to + rest upon the ground than to emerge from it; as though its basic + curvatures were hidden in the earth. + </p> + <p> + What was its substance I could not tell. It was as though built of the + lacquer of the gems whose colors it held. And beautiful, wondrously, + incredibly beautiful it was—an immense bubble of froth of molten + sapphires and turquoises. + </p> + <p> + We had not time to study its beauties. A few last instructions to Ruth, + and we set forth down the gray road. Hardly had we taken a few steps when + there came a faint cry from her. + </p> + <p> + “Dick! Dick—come here!” + </p> + <p> + He sprang to her, caught her hands in his. For a moment, half frightened + it seemed, she considered him. + </p> + <p> + “Dick,” I heard her whisper. “Dick—come back safe to me!” + </p> + <p> + I saw his arms close about her, hers tighten around his neck; black hair + touched the silken brown curls, their lips met, clung. I turned away. + </p> + <p> + In a little time he joined me; head down, silent, he strode along beside + me, utterly dejected. + </p> + <p> + A hundred more yards and we turned. Ruth was still standing on the + threshold of the house of mystery, watching us. She waved her hands, + flitted in, was hidden from us. And Drake still silent, we pushed on. + </p> + <p> + The walls of the gateway were close. The sparse vegetation along the base + of the cliffs had ceased; the roadway itself had merged into the smooth, + bare floor of the canyon. From vertical edge to vertical edge of the rocky + portal stretched a curtain of shimmering mist. As we drew nearer we saw + that this was motionless, and less like vapor of water than vapor of + light; it streamed in oddly fixed lines like atoms of crystals in a still + solution. Drake thrust an arm within it, waved it; the mist did not move. + It seemed instead to interpenetrate the arm—as though bone and flesh + were spectral, without power to dislodge the shining particles from + position. + </p> + <p> + We passed within it—side by side. + </p> + <p> + Instantly I knew that whatever these veils were, they were not moisture. + The air we breathed was dry, electric. I was sensible of a decided + stimulation, a pleasant tingling along every nerve, a gaiety almost + light-headed. We could see each other quite plainly, the rocky floor on + which we trod as well. Within this vapor of light there was no ghost of + sound; it was utterly empty of it. I saw Drake turn to me, his mouth open + in a laugh, his lips move in speech—and although he bent close to my + ear, I heard nothing. He frowned, puzzled, and walked on. + </p> + <p> + Abruptly we stepped into an opening, a pocket of clear air. Our ears were + filled with a high, shrill humming as unpleasantly vibrant as the shriek + of a sand blast. Six feet to our right was the edge of the ledge on which + we stood; beyond it was a sheer drop into space. A shaft piercing down + into the void and walled with the mists. + </p> + <p> + But it was not that shaft that made us clutch each other. No! It was that + through it uprose a colossal column of the cubes. It stood a hundred feet + from us. Its top was another hundred feet above the level of our ledge and + its length vanished in the depths. + </p> + <p> + And its head was a gigantic spinning wheel, yards in thickness, tapering + at its point of contact with the cliff wall into a diameter half that of + the side closest the column, gleaming with flashes of green flame and + grinding with tremendous speed at the face of the rock. + </p> + <p> + Over it, attached to the cliff, was a great vizored hood of some pale + yellow metal, and it was this shelter that cutting off the vaporous light + like an enormous umbrella made the pocket of clarity in which we stood, + the shaft up which sprang the pillar. + </p> + <p> + All along the length of that column as far as we could see the myriad tiny + eyes of the Metal People shone out upon us, not twinkling mischievously, + but—grotesque as this may seem, I cannot help it—wide with + surprise. + </p> + <p> + Only an instant longer did the great wheel spin. I saw the screaming rock + melting beneath it, dropping like lava. Then, as though it had received + some message, abruptly its motion now ceased. + </p> + <p> + It tilted; looked down upon us! + </p> + <p> + I noted that its grinding surface was studded thickly with the smaller + pyramids and that the tips of these were each capped with what seemed to + be faceted gems gleaming with the same pale yellow radiance as the Shrine + of the Cones. + </p> + <p> + The column was bending; the wheel approaching. + </p> + <p> + Drake seized me by the arm, drew me swiftly back into the mists. We were + shrouded in their silences. Step by step we went on, peering for the edge + of the shelf, feeling in fancy that prodigious wheeled face stealing upon + us; afraid to look behind lest in looking we might step too close to the + unseen verge. + </p> + <p> + Yard after yard we slowly covered. Suddenly the vapors thinned; we passed + out of them— + </p> + <p> + A chaos of sound beat about us. The clanging of a million anvils; the + clamor of a million forges; the crashing of a hundred years of thunder; + the roarings of a thousand hurricanes. The prodigious bellowings of the + Pit beating against us now as they had when we had flown down the long + ramp into the depths of the Sea of Light. + </p> + <p> + Instinct with unthinkable power was that clamor; the very voice of Force. + Stunned, nay BLINDED, by it, we covered ears and eyes. + </p> + <p> + As before, the clangor died, leaving in its wake a bewildered silence. + Then that silence began to throb with a vast humming, and through that + humming rang a murmur as that of a river of diamonds. + </p> + <p> + We opened our eyes, felt awe grip our throats as though a hand had + clutched them. + </p> + <p> + Difficult, difficult almost beyond thought is it for me now to essay to + draw in words the scene before us then. For although I can set down what + it was we saw, I nor any man can transmute into phrases its essence, its + spirit, the intangible wonder that was its synthesis—the appallingly + beautiful, soul-shaking strangeness of it, its grandeur, its fantasy, and + its alien terror. + </p> + <p> + The Domain of the Metal Monster—it was filled like a chalice with + Its will; was the visible expression of that will. + </p> + <p> + We stood at the very rim of a wide ledge. We looked down into an immense + pit, shaped into a perfect oval, thirty miles in length I judged, and half + that as wide, and rimmed with colossal precipices. We were at the upper + end of this deep valley and on the tip of its axis; I mean that it + stretched longitudinally before us along the line of greatest length. Five + hundred feet below was the pit's floor. Gone were the clouds of light that + had obscured it the night before; the air crystal clear; every detail + standing out with stereoscopic sharpness. + </p> + <p> + First the eyes rested upon a broad band of fluorescent amethyst, ringing + the entire rocky wall. It girdled the cliffs at a height of ten thousand + feet, and from this flaming zone, as though it clutched them, fell the + curtains of sparkling mist, the enigmatic, sound-slaying vapors. + </p> + <p> + But now I saw that all of these veils were not motionless like those + through which we had just passed. To the northwest they were pulsing like + the aurora, and like the aurora they were shot through with swift + iridescences, spectrums, polychromatic gleamings. And always these were + ordered, geometric—like immense and flitting prismatic crystals + flying swiftly to the very edges of the veils, then darting as swiftly + back. + </p> + <p> + From zone and veils the gaze leaped to the incredible City towering not + two miles away from us. + </p> + <p> + Blue black, shining, sharply cut as though from polished steel, it reared + full five thousand feet on high! + </p> + <p> + How great it was I could not tell, for the height of its precipitous walls + barred the vision. The frowning facade turned toward us was, I estimated, + five miles in length. Its colossal scarp struck the eyes like a blow; its + shadow, falling upon us, checked the heart. It was overpowering—dreadful + as that midnight city of Dis that Dante saw rising up from another pit. + </p> + <p> + It was a metal city, mountainous. + </p> + <p> + Featureless, smooth, the immense wall of it heaved heavenward. It should + have been blind, that vast oblong face—but it was not blind. From it + radiated alertness, vigilance. It seemed to gaze toward us as though every + foot were manned with sentinels; guardians invisible to the eyes whose + concentration of watchfulness was caught by some subtle hidden sense + higher than sight. + </p> + <p> + It was a metal city, mountainous and—AWARE. + </p> + <p> + About its base were huge openings. Through and around these portals + swirled hordes of the Metal People; in units and in combinations coming + and going, streaming in and out, forming as they came and went patterns + about the openings like the fretted spume of great breakers surging into, + retreating from, ocean-bitten gaps in some iron-bound coast. + </p> + <p> + From the immensity of the City the eyes dropped back to the Pit in which + it lay. Its floor was plaquelike, a great plane smooth as though turned by + potter's wheel, broken by no mound nor hillock, slope nor terrace; level, + horizontal, flawlessly flat. On it was no green living thing—no tree + nor bush, meadow nor covert. + </p> + <p> + It was alive with movement. A ferment that was as purposeful as it was + mechanical, a ferment symmetrical, geometrical, supremely ordered— + </p> + <p> + The surging of the Metal Hordes. + </p> + <p> + There they moved beneath us, these enigmatic beings, in a countless host. + They marched and countermarched in battalions, in regiments, in armies. + Far to the south I glimpsed a company of colossal shapes like mobile, + castellated and pyramidal mounts. They were circling, weaving about each + other with incredible rapidity—like scores of great pyramids crowned + with gigantic turrets and dancing. From these turrets came vivid flashes, + lightning bright—on their wake the rolling echoes of faraway + thunder. + </p> + <p> + Out of the north sped a squadron of obelisks from whose tops flamed and + flared the immense spinning wheels, appearing at this distance like fiery + whirling disks. + </p> + <p> + Up from their setting the Metal People lifted themselves in a thousand + incredible shapes, shapes squared and globed and spiked and shifting + swiftly into other thousands as incredible. I saw a mass of them draw + themselves up into the likeness of a tent skyscraper high; hang so for an + instant, then writhe into a monstrous chimera of a dozen towering legs + that strode away like a gigantic headless and bodiless tarantula in steps + two hundred feet long. I watched mile-long lines of them shape and reshape + into circles, into interlaced lozenges and pentagons—then lift in + great columns and shoot through the air in unimaginable barrage. + </p> + <p> + Through all this incessant movement I sensed plainly purpose, knew that it + was definite activity toward a definite end, caught the clear suggestion + of drill, of maneuver. + </p> + <p> + And when the shiftings of the Metal Hordes permitted we saw that all the + flat floor of the valley was stripped and checkered, stippled and + tessellated with every color, patterned with enormous lozenges and + squares, rhomboids and parallelograms, pentagons and hexagons and + diamonds, lunettes, circles and spirals; harlequined yet harmonious; + instinct with a grotesque suggestion of a super-Futurism. + </p> + <p> + But always this patterning was ordered, always COHERENT. As though it were + a page on which was spelled some untranslatable other world message. + </p> + <p> + Fourth Dimensional revelations by some Euclidean deity! Commandments + traced by some mathematical God! + </p> + <p> + Looping across the vale, emerging from the sparkling folds of the + southernmost curtainings and vanishing into the gleaming veils of the + easternmost, ran a broad ribbon of pale-green jade; not straightly but + with manifold convolutions and flourishes. It was like a sentence in + Arabic. + </p> + <p> + It was margined with sapphire blue. All along its twisting course two + broad bands of jet margined the cerulean shore. It was spanned by scores + of flashing crystal arches. Nor were these bridges—even from that + distance I knew they were no bridges. From them came the crystalline + murmurings. + </p> + <p> + Jade? This stream jade? If so then it must be in truth molten, for I + caught its swift and polished rushing! It was no jade. It was in truth a + river; a river running like a writing across a patterned plane. + </p> + <p> + I looked upward—up to the circling peaks. They were a stupendous + coronet thrusting miles deep into the dazzling sky. I raised my glasses, + swept them. In color they were an immense and variegated flower with + countless multiform petals of stone; in outline they were a ring of + fortresses built by fantastic unknown Gods. + </p> + <p> + Up they thrust—domed and arched, spired and horned, pyramided, + fanged and needled. Here were palisades of burning orange with barbicans + of incandescent bronze; there aiguilles of azure rising from bastions of + cinnabar red; turrets of royal purple, obelisks of indigo; titanic forts + whose walls were splashed with vermilion, with citron yellows and with + rust of rubies; watch towers of flaming scarlet. + </p> + <p> + Scattered among them were the flashing emeralds of the glaciers and the + immense pallid baroques of the snow fields. + </p> + <p> + Like a diadem the summits ringed the Pit. Below them ran the ring of + flashing amethyst with its aural mists. Between them lay the vast and + patterned flat covered with still symbol and inexplicable movement. Under + their summits brooded the blue black, metallic mass of the Seeing City. + </p> + <p> + Within circling walls, over plain and from the City hovered a cosmic + spirit not to be understood by man. Like an emanation of stars and space, + it was yet gem fine and gem hard, crystalline and metallic, lapidescent + and— + </p> + <p> + Conscious! + </p> + <p> + Down from the ledge where we stood fell a steep ramp, similar to that by + which, in the darkness, we had descended. It dropped at an angle of at + least forty-five degrees; its surface was smooth and polished. + </p> + <p> + Through the mists at our back stole a shining block. It paused, seemed to + perk itself; spun so that in turn each of its six faces took us in. + </p> + <p> + I felt myself lifted upon it by multitudes of little invisible hands; saw + Drake whirling up beside me. I moved toward him—through the force + that held us. A block swept away from the ledge, swayed for a moment. + Under us, as though we were floating in air, the Pit lay stretched. There + was a rapid readjustment, a shifting of our two selves upon another + surface. I looked down upon a tremendous, slender pillar of the cubes, + dropping below, five hundred feet to the valley's floor a column of which + the block that held us was the top. + </p> + <p> + Gone was the whirling wheel that had crowned it, but I knew this for the + Grinding Thing from which we had fled; the questing block had been its + scout. As though curious to know more of us, the Shape had sought us out + through the mists, its messenger had caught us, delivered us to it. + </p> + <p> + The pillar leaned over—bent like that shining pillar that had + bridged for us, at Norhala's commands, the abyss. The floor of the valley + arose to meet us. Further and further leaned the pillar. Again there was a + rapid shifting of us to another surface of the crowning cube. Fast now + swept up toward us the valley floor. A dizziness clouded my sight. There + was a little shock, a rolling over the Thing that had held us— + </p> + <p> + We stood upon the floor of the Pit. + </p> + <p> + And breaking from the immense and prostrate shaft on whose top we had + ridden downward came score upon score of the cubes. They broke from it, + disintegrating it; circled about us, curiously, interestedly, twinkling at + us from their deep sparkling points of eyes. + </p> + <p> + Helplessly we gazed at those who circled around us. Then suddenly I felt + myself lifted once more, was tossed to the surface of the nearest block. + Upon it I spun while the tiny eyes searched me. Then like a human ball it + tossed me to another. I caught a glimpse of Drake's tall figure drifting + through the air. + </p> + <p> + The play became more rapid, breathtaking. It was play; I recognized that. + But it was perilous play for us. I felt myself as fragile as a doll of + glass in the hands of careless children. + </p> + <p> + I was tossed to a waiting cube. On the ground, not ten feet from me, was + Drake, swaying dizzily. Suddenly the cube that held me tightened its grip; + tightened it so that it drew me irresistibly flat down upon its surface. + Before I dropped, Drake's body leaped toward me as though drawn by a + lasso. He fell at my side. + </p> + <p> + Then pursued by scores of the Things and like some mischievous boy bearing + off the spoils, the block that held us raced away, straight for an open + portal. A blaze of incandescent blue flame blinded me; again as the + dazzlement faded I saw Drake beside me—a skeleton form. Swiftly + flesh melted back upon him, clothed him. + </p> + <p> + The cube stopped, abruptly; the hosts of little unseen hands raised us, + slid us gently over its edge, set us upright beside it. And it sped away. + </p> + <p> + All about us stretched another of those vast halls in which on high burned + the pale-gilt suns. Between its colossal columns streamed thousands of the + Metal Folk; no longer hurriedly, but quietly, deliberately, sedately. + </p> + <p> + We were within the City—even as Ventnor had commanded. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. THE CITY THAT WAS ALIVE + </h2> + <p> + Close beside us was one of the cyclopean columns. We crept to it; crouched + at its base opposite the drift of the Metal People; strove, huddled there, + to regain our shaken poise. Like bagatelles we felt in that tremendous + place, the weird luminaries gleaming above like garlands of frozen suns, + the enigmatic hosts of animate cubes and spheres and pyramids trooping + past. + </p> + <p> + They ranged in size from shapes yard-high to giants of thirty feet or + more. They paid no heed to us, did not stop; streaming on, engrossed in + whatever mysterious business was summoning them. And after a time their + numbers lessened; thinned down to widely separate groups, to stragglers; + then ceased. The hall was empty of them. + </p> + <p> + As far as the eye could reach the columned spaces stretched. I was + conscious once more of that unusual flow of energy through every vein and + nerve. + </p> + <p> + “Follow the crowd!” said Drake. “Do you feel just full of pep and ginger, + by the way?” + </p> + <p> + “I am aware of the most extraordinary vigor,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + “Some weird joint,” he mused, looking about him. “Wonder if they have any + windows? This whole place looked solid to me—what I could see of it. + Wonder if we'll get up against it for air? These Things don't need it, + that's sure. Wonder—” + </p> + <p> + He broke off staring fascinatedly at the pillar behind us. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Goodwin!” There was a tremor in his voice. “What do you make + of THIS?” + </p> + <p> + I followed his pointing finger; looked at him inquiringly. + </p> + <p> + “The eyes!” he said impatiently. “Don't you see them? The eyes in the + column!” + </p> + <p> + And now I saw them. The pillar was a pale metallic blue, in color a trifle + darker than the Metal Folk. All within it were the myriads of tiny + crystalline points that we had grown to know were the receptors of some + strange sense of sight. But they did not sparkle as did those others; they + were dull, lifeless. I touched the surface. It was smooth, cool—with + none of that subtle, warm vitality that pulsed through all the Things with + which I had come in contact. I shook my head, realizing as I did so what a + shock the incredible possibility he had suggested had given me. + </p> + <p> + “No,” I said. “There is a resemblance, yes. But there is no force about + this—stuff; no life. Besides, such a thing is utterly incredible.” + </p> + <p> + “They might be—dormant,” he suggested stubbornly. “Can you see any + mark of their joining—if they ARE the cubes?” + </p> + <p> + Together we scanned the pillar minutely. The faces seemed unbroken, + continuous; there was no trace of those thin and shining lines that marked + the juncture of the cubes when they had clicked together to form the + bridge of the abyss or that had gleamed, crosslike, upon the back of the + combined four upon which we had followed Norhala. + </p> + <p> + “It's a sheer impossibility. It's madness to think such a thing, Drake!” I + exclaimed, and wondered at my own vehemence of denial. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe,” he shook his head doubtfully. “Maybe—but—well—let's + be on our way.” + </p> + <p> + We strode on, following the direction the Metal Folk had gone. Clearly + Drake was still doubtful; at each pillar he hesitated, scanning it closely + with troubled eyes. + </p> + <p> + But I, having determinedly dismissed the idea, was more interested in the + fantastic lights that flooded this columned hall with their buttercup + radiance. They were still and unwinking; not disks, I could see now, but + globes. Great and small, they floated motionless, their rays extending + rigidly and as still as the orb that shed them. + </p> + <p> + Yet rigid as they were there was nothing about either rays or orbs that + suggested either hardness or the metallic. They were vaporous, soft as St. + Elmo's fire, the witch lights that cling at times to the spars of ships, + weird gleaming visitors from the invisible ocean of atmospheric + electricity. + </p> + <p> + When they disappeared, as they did frequently, it was instantaneously, + completely, with a disconcerting sleight-of-hand finality. I noted, + though, that when they did vanish, immediately close to where they had + been other orbs swam forth with that same astonishing abruptness; + sometimes only one, larger it might be than that which had gone; sometimes + a cluster of smaller globes, their frozen, crocused rays impinging. + </p> + <p> + What could they be, I wondered—how fixed, and what the source of + their light? Products of electro-magnetic currents and born of the + interpenetration of such streams flowing above us? Such a theory might + account for their disappearance, and reappearance, shiftings of the flows + that changed the light producing points of contact. Wireless lights? If so + here was an idea that human science might elaborate if ever we returned to— + </p> + <p> + “Now which way?” Drake broke in upon my musing. The hall had ended. We + stood before a blank wall vanishing into the soft mists hiding the roof of + the chamber. + </p> + <p> + “I thought we had been going along the way They went,” I said in + amazement. + </p> + <p> + “So did I,” he answered. “We must have circled. They never went through + THAT unless—unless—” He hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Unless what?” I asked sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Unless it opened and let them through,” he said. “Have you forgotten + those great ovals—like cat's eyes that opened in the outer walls?” + he added quietly. + </p> + <p> + I HAD forgotten. I looked again at the wall. Certainly it was smooth, + lineless. In one unbroken, shining surface it rose, a facade of polished + metal. Within it the deep set points of light were duller even than they + had been in the pillars; almost indeed indistinguishable. + </p> + <p> + “Go on to the left,” I said none too patiently. “And get that absurd + notion out of your head.” + </p> + <p> + “All right.” He flushed. “But you don't think I'm afraid, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “If what you're thinking were true, you'd have a right to be,” I replied + tartly. “And I want to tell you I'D be afraid. Damned afraid.” + </p> + <p> + For perhaps two hundred paces we skirted the base of the wall. We came + abruptly to an opening, an oblong passageway fully fifty foot wide by + twice as high. At its entrance the mellow, saffron light was cut off as + though by an invisible screen. The tunnel itself was filled with a dim + grayish blue luster. For an instant we contemplated it. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't care to be caught in there by any rush,” I hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “There's not much good in thinking of that now,” said Drake, grimly. “A + few chances more or less in a joint of this kind is nothing between + friends, Goodwin; take it from me. Come on.” + </p> + <p> + We entered. Walls, floor and roof were composed of the same substance as + the great pillars, the wall of the outer chamber; filled like them with + dimmed replicas of the twinkling eye points. + </p> + <p> + “Odd that all the places in here are square,” muttered Drake. “They don't + seem to have used any spherical or pyramidal ideas in their building—if + it is a building.” + </p> + <p> + It was true. All was mathematically straight up and down and across. It + was strange—still we had seen little as yet. + </p> + <p> + There was a warmth about this passageway we trod; a difference in the air + of it. The warmth grew, a dry and baking heat; but stimulative rather than + oppressive. I touched the walls; the warmth did not come from them. And + there was no wind. Yet as we went on the heat increased. + </p> + <p> + The passageway turned at a right angle, continuing in a corridor half its + former dimensions. Far away shone a high bar of pale yellow radiance, + rising like a pillar of light from floor to roof. Toward it, perforce, we + trudged. Its brilliancy grew greater. + </p> + <p> + A few paces away from it we stopped. The yellow luminescence streamed + through a slit not more than a foot wide in the wall. We were in a + cul-de-sac for the opening was not wide enough for either Drake or me to + push through. Through it with the light gushed the curious heat enveloping + us. + </p> + <p> + Drake walked to the opening, peered through. I joined him. + </p> + <p> + At first all that I could see was a space filled with the saffron + lambency. Then I saw that this was splashed with tiny flashes of the jewel + fires; little lances and javelin thrusts of burning emeralds and rubies; + darting gem hard flames rose scarlet and pale sapphire; quick flares of + violet. + </p> + <p> + Into my sight through the irised, crocus mist swam the radiant body of + Norhala! + </p> + <p> + She stood naked, clad only in the veils of her hair that glowed now like + spun silk of molten copper, her strange eyes wide and smiling, the + galaxies of tiny stars sparkling through their gray depths. + </p> + <p> + And all about her swirled a countless host of the Little Things! + </p> + <p> + From them came the gem fires piercing the aureate mists. They played and + frolicked about her in scores of swiftly forming, swiftly changing, goblin + shapes. They circled her feet in shining, elfin rings; then opening into + flaming disks and stars, shot up and spun about the white miracle of her + body in great girdles of multi-colored living fires. Mingled with disk and + star were tiny crosses gleaming with sullen, deep crimsons and smoky + orange. + </p> + <p> + A flash of blue incandescence and a slender pillared shape leaped from the + floor; became a coronet, a whirling, flashing halo toward which streamed + up the flaming tendrilings of her tresses. Other halos circled her arms + and breasts; they spun like bracelets about the outstretched arms. + </p> + <p> + Then like a swiftly rushing wave a host of the Little Things thrust + themselves up, covered her, hid her in a coruscating cloud. + </p> + <p> + I saw an exquisite arm thrust itself from their clinging, wave gaily; saw + her glorious head emerge from the incredible, the seething draperies of + living jewels. I heard her laughter, sweet and golden and far away. + </p> + <p> + Goddess of the Inexplicable! Madonna of the Metal Babes! + </p> + <p> + The Nursery of the Metal People! + </p> + <p> + Norhala was gone, blotted out from our sight! Gone too were the bar of + light and the chamber into which we had been peering. We stared at a + smooth, blank wall. With that same ensorcelled swiftness the wall had + closed even as we had stared through it; closed so quickly that we had not + seen its motion. + </p> + <p> + I gripped Drake; shrank with him into the farthest corner—for on the + other side of us the wall was opening. First it was only a crack; then + rapidly it widened. There stretched another passageway, luminous and long; + far down it we glimpsed movement. Closer that movement came, grew plainer. + Out of the mistily luminous distances, three abreast and filling the + corridor from side to side, raced upon us a company of the great spheres! + </p> + <p> + Back we cowered from their approach—back and back; arms + outstretched, pressing against the barrier, flattening ourselves against + the shock of the destroying impact menacing. + </p> + <p> + “It's all up,” muttered Drake. “No place to run. They're bound to smash + us. Stick close, Doc. Get back to Ruth. Maybe I can stop them!” + </p> + <p> + Before I could check him, he had leaped straight in the path of the + rushing globes, now a scant twoscore yards away. + </p> + <p> + The globes stopped—halted a few feet from him. They seemed to + contemplate us, astonished. They turned upon themselves, as though + consulting. Slowly they advanced. We were pushed forward and lifted + gently. Then as we hung suspended, held by that force which always I can + liken only to myriads of tiny invisible hands, the shining arcs of their + backs undulated beneath us. + </p> + <p> + Their files swung around the corner and marched down the passage by which + we had come from the immense hall. And when the last rank had passed from + under us we were dropped softly to our feet; stood swaying in their wake. + </p> + <p> + A curious frenzy of helpless indignation shook me, a rage of humiliation + obscuring all gratitude I should have felt for our escape. Drake's eyes + blazed wrath. + </p> + <p> + “The insolent devils!” He raised clenched fists. “The insolent, + domineering devils!” + </p> + <p> + We stared after them. + </p> + <p> + Was the passage growing narrower—closing? Even as I gazed I saw it + shrink; saw its walls slide silently toward each other. I pushed Drake + into the newly opened way and sprang after him. + </p> + <p> + Behind us was an unbroken wall covering all that space in which but a + moment before we had stood! + </p> + <p> + Is it to be wondered that a panic seized us; that we began to run crazily + down the alley that still lay open before us, casting over our shoulders + quick, fearful glances to see whether that inexorable, dreadful closing + was continuing, threatening to crush us between these walls like flies in + a vise of steel? + </p> + <p> + But they did not close. Unbroken, silent, the way stretched before us and + behind us. At last, gasping, avoiding each other's gaze, we paused. + </p> + <p> + And at that very moment of pause a deeper tremor shook me, a trembling of + the very foundations of life, the shuddering of one who faces the + inconceivable knowing at last that the inconceivable—IS. + </p> + <p> + For, abruptly, walls and floor and roof broke forth into countless + twinklings! + </p> + <p> + As though a film had been withdrawn from them, as though they had awakened + from slumber, myriads of little points of light shone forth upon us from + the pale-blue surfaces—lights that considered us, measured us—mocked + us. + </p> + <p> + The little points of living light that were the eyes of the Metal People! + </p> + <p> + This was no corridor cut through inert matter by mechanic art; its opening + had been caused by no hidden mechanisms! It was a living Thing—walled + and floored and roofed by the living bodies—of the Metal People + themselves. + </p> + <p> + Its opening, as had been the closing of that other passage, was the + conscious, coordinate and voluntary action of the Things that formed these + mighty walls. + </p> + <p> + An action that obeyed, was directed by, the incredibly gigantic, + communistic will which, like the spirit of the hive, the soul of the + formicary, animated every unit of them. + </p> + <p> + A greater realization swept us. If THIS were true, then those pillars in + the vast hall, its towering walls—all this City was one living + Thing! + </p> + <p> + Built of the animate bodies of countless millions! Tons upon countless + tons of them shaping a gigantic pile of which every atom was sentient, + mobile—intelligent! + </p> + <p> + A Metal Monster! + </p> + <p> + Now I knew why it was that its frowning facade had seemed to watch us + Argus-eyed as the Things had tossed us toward it. It HAD watched us! + </p> + <p> + That flood of watchfulness pulsing about us had been actual concentration + of regard of untold billions of tiny eyes of the living block which formed + the City's cliff. + </p> + <p> + A City that Saw! A City that was Alive! + </p> + <p> + No secret mechanism then—back darted my mind to that first terror—had + closed the wall, shutting from our sight Norhala at play with the Little + Things. None had opened the way for, had closed the way behind, the + coursing spheres. It had been done by the conscious action of the + conscious Things of whose living bodies was built this whole tremendous + thinking pile! + </p> + <p> + I think that for a moment we both went a little mad as that staggering + truth came to us. I know we started to run once more, side by side, + gripping like frightened children each other's hands. Then Drake stopped. + </p> + <p> + “By all the HELL of this place,” he said, solemnly, “I'll run no more. + After all—we're men. If they kill us, they kill us. But by the God + who made me I'll run from them no more. I'll die standing.” + </p> + <p> + His courage steadied me. Defiantly we marched on. Up from below us, down + from the roof, out from the walls of our way the hosts of eyes gleamed and + twinkled upon us. + </p> + <p> + “Who could have believed it?” he muttered, half to himself. “A living city + of them! A living nest of them; a prodigious living nest of metal!” + </p> + <p> + “A nest?” I caught the word. What did it suggest? That was it—the + nest of the army ants, the city of the army ants, that Beebe had studied + in the South American jungles and once described to me. After all, was + this more wonderful, more unbelievable than that—the city of ants + which was formed by their living bodies precisely as this was of the + bodies of the Cubes? + </p> + <p> + How had Beebe * phrased it—“the home, the nest, the hearth, the + nursery, the bridal suite, the kitchen, the bed and board of the army + ants.” Built of and occupied by those blind and deaf and savage little + insects which by the guidance of smell alone carried on the most intricate + operations, the most complex activities. Nothing here was stranger than + that, I reflected—if once one could rid the mind of the paralyzing + influence of the shapes of the Metal Things. Whence came the stimuli that + moved THEM, the stimuli to which THEY reacted? + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * William Beebe, Atlantic Monthly, October, 1919. +</pre> + <p> + Well then—whence and how came the orders to which the ANTS + responded; that bade them open THIS corridor in their nest, close THAT, + form this chamber, fill that one? Was one more mysterious than the other? + </p> + <p> + Breaking into my current of thoughts came consciousness that I was moving + with increased speed; that my body was fast growing lighter. + </p> + <p> + Simultaneously with this recognition I felt myself lifted from the floor + of the corridor and levitated with considerable rapidity forward; looking + down I saw that floor several feet below me. Drake's arm wound itself + around my shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Closing up behind us,” he muttered. “They're putting us—out.” + </p> + <p> + It was, indeed, as though the passageway had wearied of our deliberate + progress. Had decided to—give us a lift. Rearward it was shutting. I + noted with interest how accurately this motion kept pace with our own + speed, and how fluidly the walls seemed to run together. + </p> + <p> + Our movement became accelerated. It was as though we floated buoyantly, + weightless, upon some swift stream. The sensation was curiously pleasant, + languorous—what was that word Ruth had used?—ELEMENTAL—and + free. The supporting force seemed to flow equally from walls and floor; to + reach down to us from the roof. It was slumberously even, and effortless. + I saw that in advance of us the living corridor was opening even as behind + us it was closing. + </p> + <p> + All around us the little eye points twinkled and—laughed. + </p> + <p> + There was no danger here—there could be none. Deeper and deeper + dropped my mind into the depths of that alien tranquillity. Faster and + faster we floated—onward. + </p> + <p> + Abruptly, ahead of us shone a blaze of daylight. We passed into it. The + force holding us withdrew its grip; I felt solidity beneath my feet; stood + and leaned back against a smooth wall. + </p> + <p> + The corridor had ended and—had shut us out from itself. + </p> + <p> + “Bounced!” exclaimed Drake. + </p> + <p> + And incongruous, flippant, colloquial as was that word, I know none that + would better describe my own feelings. + </p> + <p> + We were BOUNCED out upon a turret jutting from the barrier. And before us + lay spread the most amazing, the most extraordinary fantastic scene upon + which, I think, the vision of man has rested since the advent of time. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. VAMPIRES OF THE SUN + </h2> + <p> + It was a crater; a half mile on high and all of two thousand feet across + ran the circular lip of its vast rim. Above it was a circle of white and + glaring sky in whose center flamed the sun. + </p> + <p> + And instantly, before my vision could grasp a tithe of that panorama, I + knew that this place was the very heart of the City; its vital ganglion; + its soul. + </p> + <p> + Around the crater lip were poised thousands of concave disks, vernal + green, enormous. They were like a border of gigantic, upthrust shields; + and within each, emblazoned like a shield's device, was a blinding flower + of flame—the reflected, dilated face of the sun. Below this diadem + hung, pendent, clusters of other disks, swarmed like the globular hiving + of the constellation Hercules' captured stars. And each of these prisoned + the image of our sun. + </p> + <p> + A hundred feet below us was the crater floor. + </p> + <p> + Up from it thrust a mountainous forest of the pallidly radiant cones; + bristling; prodigious. Tier upon tier, thicket upon thicket, phalanx upon + phalanx they climbed. Up and up, pyramidically, they flung their spiked + hosts. + </p> + <p> + They drew together two thousand feet above us, clustering close about the + foot of a single huge spire which thrust itself skyward above them. The + crest of this spire was truncated. From its shorn tip radiated scores of + long and slender spokes holding in place a thousand feet wide wheel of wan + green disks whose concave surfaces, unlike those smooth ones girding the + crater, were curiously faceted. + </p> + <p> + This amazing structure rested upon a myriad-footed base of crystal, even + as had that other cornute fantasy beside which we had met the great Disk. + But it was in size to that as—as Leviathan to a minnow. From it + streamed the same baffling suggestion of invincible force transmuted into + matter; energy coalesced into the tangible; power made concentrate in the + vestments of substance. + </p> + <p> + Half-way between crater lip and floor began the hordes of the Metal + People. + </p> + <p> + In colossal animate cheveau-de-frise of hundred-foot girders they thrust + themselves out from the curving walls—walls, I knew, as alive as + they! + </p> + <p> + From these Brobdignagian beams they swung in ropes and clusters—spheres + and cubes studded as thickly with the pyramids as ever Titan's mace with + spikes. Group after bizarre group they dropped; pendulous. Coppices of + slender columns of thistled globes sprang up to meet the festooned joists. + </p> + <p> + Between the girders they draped themselves in long, stellated garlands; + grouped themselves in innumerable, kaleidoscopic patterns. + </p> + <p> + They clicked into place around the golden turret in which we crouched. + </p> + <p> + In fantastic arrases they swayed in front of us—now hiding by, now + revealing through their quicksilver interweavings the mounts of the Cones. + </p> + <p> + And steadily those flowing in below added to their multitudes; gliding up + cable and pillar; building out still further the living girders, stringing + themselves upon living festoon and living garland, weaving in among them, + changing their shapes, rewriting their symbols. + </p> + <p> + They swung and threaded swiftly, in shifting arabesque, in Gothic + traceries, in lace-like fantasies; utterly bizarre, unutterably beautiful—crystalline, + geometric always. + </p> + <p> + Abruptly their movement ceased—so abruptly that the stoppage of all + the ordered turmoil had the quality of appalling silence. + </p> + <p> + An unimaginable tapestry bedight with incredible broidery, the Metal + People draped the vast cup. + </p> + <p> + Pillared it as though it were a temple. + </p> + <p> + Garnished it with their bodies as though it were a shrine. + </p> + <p> + Across the floor toward the Cones glided a palely lustrous sphere. In + shape only a globe like all its kind, yet it was invested with power; it + radiated power as a star does light; was clothed in unseen garments of + supernal force. In its wake drifted two great pyramids; after them ten + spheres but little smaller than the Shape which led. + </p> + <p> + “The Metal Emperor!” breathed Drake. + </p> + <p> + On they swept until they reached the base of the Cones. They paused at the + edge of the crystal tabling. They turned. + </p> + <p> + There was a flashing as of a meteor bursting. The globe had opened into + that splendor of jewel fires before which had floated Norhala and Ruth. + </p> + <p> + I saw again the luminous ovals of sapphire, studding its golden zone, the + mystic rose of pulsing, petal flame, the still core of incandescent ruby + that was the heart of that rose. + </p> + <p> + Strangely I felt my own heart veer toward this—Thing; bowing before + its beauty and its strength; almost worshiping! + </p> + <p> + A shock of revulsion went through me. I shot a quick, half frightened + glance at Drake. He was crouching dangerously close to the lip of the + ledge, hands clasped and knuckles white with the intensity of his grip, + eyes rapt, staring—upon the verge of worship even as I had been. + </p> + <p> + “Drake!” I thrust my elbow into his side brutally. “None of that! Remember + you're human! Guard yourself, man—guard yourself!” + </p> + <p> + “What?” he muttered; then, abruptly: “How did you know?” + </p> + <p> + “I felt it myself,” I answered: “For God's sake, Dick—hold fast to + yourself! Remember Ruth!” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head violently—as though to be rid of some clinging, + cloying thing. + </p> + <p> + “I'll not forget again,” he said. + </p> + <p> + He huddled down once more close to the edge of the shelf; peering over. No + one of the Metal People had moved; the silence, the stillness, was + unbroken. + </p> + <p> + Now the flanking pyramids shot forth into twin stars, blazing with violet + luminescences. And one by one after them the ten lesser spheres expanded + into flaming orbs; beautiful they were, but far less glorious than that + Disk of whom they were the counselors?—ministers?—what? + </p> + <p> + Still there was no movement among all the arrased, girdered, pillared + hosts. + </p> + <p> + There came a little wailing; far away it was and far. Nearer it drew. Was + that a tremor that passed through the crowded crater? A quick pulse of—eagerness? + </p> + <p> + “Hungry!” whispered Drake. “They're HUNGRY!” + </p> + <p> + Closer was the wailing; again that faint tremor quivered over the place. + And now I caught it—a quick and avid pulsing. + </p> + <p> + “Hungry,” whispered Drake again. “Like a lot of lions with the keeper + coming along with meat.” + </p> + <p> + The wailing was below us. I felt, not a quiver this time, but an + unmistakable shock pass through the Horde. It throbbed—and passed. + </p> + <p> + Into the field of our vision, up to the flaming Disk rushed an immense + cube. + </p> + <p> + Thrice the height of a tall man—as I think I have noted before—when + it unfolded its radiance was that shape of mingled beauty and power I call + the Metal Emperor. + </p> + <p> + Yet this Thing eclipsed it. Black, uncompromising, in some indefinable way + BRUTAL, its square bulk blotted out the Disk's effulgence; shrouded it. + And a shadow seemed to fall upon the crater. The violet fires of the + flanking stars pulsed out—watchfully, threateningly. + </p> + <p> + For only an instant the darkening block loomed against the Disk; blackened + it. + </p> + <p> + There came another meteor burst of light. Where the cube had been was now + a tremendous, fiery cross—a cross inverted. + </p> + <p> + Its upper arm arose to twice the length either of its horizontals or the + square that was its foot. In its opening it must have turned, for its—FACE—was + toward us and away from the Cones, its body hid the Disk, and almost all + the surfaces of the two watchful Stars. + </p> + <p> + Eighty feet at least in height, this cruciform shape stood. It flamed and + flickered with angry, smoky crimsons and scarlets; with sullen orange + glowings and glitterings of sulphurous yellows. Within its fires were none + of those leaping, multicolored glories that were the Metal Emperor's; no + trace of the pulsing, mystic rose; no shadow of jubilant sapphire; no + purple royal; no tender, merciful greens nor gracious opalescences. + Nothing even of the blasting violet of the Stars. + </p> + <p> + All angry, smoky reds and ochres the cross blazed forth—and in its + lurid glowings was something sinister, something real, something cruel, + something—nearer to earth, closer to man. + </p> + <p> + “The Keeper of the Cones and the Metal Emperor!” muttered Drake. “I begin + to get it—yes—I begin to get—Ventnor!” + </p> + <p> + Once more the pulse, the avid throbbing shook the crater. And as swiftly + in its wake rushed back the stillness, the silence. + </p> + <p> + The Keeper turned—I saw its palely lustrous blue metallic back. I + drew out my little field-glasses, focussed them. + </p> + <p> + The Cross slipped sidewise past the Disk, its courtiers, its stellated + guardians. As it went by they swung about with it; ever facing it. + </p> + <p> + And now at last was clear a thing that had puzzled greatly—the + mechanism of that opening process by which sphere became oval disk, + pyramid a four-pointed star and—as I had glimpsed in the play of the + Little Things about Norhala, could see now so plainly in the Keeper—the + blocks took this inverted cruciform shape. + </p> + <p> + The Metal People were hollow! + </p> + <p> + Hollow metal—boxes! + </p> + <p> + In their enclosing sides dwelt all their vitality—their powers—themselves! + </p> + <p> + And those sides were—everything that THEY were! + </p> + <p> + Folded, the oval disk became the sphere; the four points of the star, the + square from which those points radiated; shutting became the pyramid; the + six faces of the cubes were when opened the inverted cross. + </p> + <p> + Nor were these flexible, mobile walls massive. They were indeed, + considering the apparent mass of the Metal Folk, most astonishingly + fragile. Those of the Keeper, despite its eighty feet of height, could not + have been more than a yard in thickness. At the edges I thought I could + see groovings; noted the same appearances at the outlines of the Stars. + Seen sidewise, the body of the Metal Emperor showed as a convexity; its + surface smooth, with a suggestion of transparency. + </p> + <p> + The Keeper was bending; its oblong upper plane dropping forward as though + upon a hinge. Lower and lower this flange bent—in a grotesque, + terrifying obeisance; a horrible mockery of reverence. + </p> + <p> + Was this mountain of Cones then actually a shrine—an idol of the + Metal People—their God? + </p> + <p> + The oblong that was the upper half of the cruciform Shape extended now at + right angles to the horizontal arms. It hovered, a rectangle forty feet + long, as many feet over the floor at the base of the crystal pedestal. It + bent again, this time from the hinge that held the outstretched arms to + the base. And now it was a huge truncated cross, a T-shaped figure, + hovering only twenty feet above the pave. + </p> + <p> + Down from the Keeper writhed and flicked a tangle of tentacles; + serpentine, whiplike. Silvery white, they were dyed with the scarlet and + orange flaming of the surface now hidden from my eyes; reflected those + sullen and angry gleamings. Vermiceous, coiling, they seemed to drop from + every inch of the overhanging planes. + </p> + <p> + Something there was beneath them—something like an immense and + luminous tablet. The tentacles were moving over it—pressing here, + thrusting there, turning, pushing, manipulating— + </p> + <p> + A shuddering passed through the crowding cones. I saw the tremor shake + their bristling hosts, oscillate the great spire, set the faceted disks + quivering. + </p> + <p> + The trembling grew; a vibration in every separate cone that became even + more rapid. There was a faint, curiously oppressive humming—like the + distant echo of a tempest in chaos. + </p> + <p> + Faster, ever faster grew the vibration. Now the sharp outlines of the + cones were dissolving. + </p> + <p> + And now they were—gone. + </p> + <p> + The mount of the cones had become a mighty pyramid of pale green radiance—one + tremendous, pallid flame, of which the spire was the tongue. Out from the + disked wheel at its shorn tip gushed a flood of light—light that + gathered itself from the leaping radiance below it. + </p> + <p> + The tentacles of the Keeper moved more swiftly over the enigmatic tablet; + writhing cloudily; confusedly rapid. The faceted disks wavered; turned + upward; the wheel began to whirl—faster—faster— + </p> + <p> + Up from that flaming circle, out into the sky leaped a thick, pale green + column of intensest light. + </p> + <p> + With prodigious speed, as compact as water, CONCENTRATE, it struck—straight + out toward the face of the sun. + </p> + <p> + It thrust up with the speed of light—the speed of light? A thought + came to me; incredible I believed it even as I reacted to it. My pulse is + uniformly seventy to the minute. I sought my wrist, found the artery, made + allowance for its possible acceleration, began to count. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” asked Drake. + </p> + <p> + “Take my glasses,” I muttered, trying to keep up, while speaking, my + tally. “Matches in my pocket. Smoke the lenses. I want to look at sun.” + </p> + <p> + With a look of stupefied amazement which, at another time I would have + found laughable, he obeyed. + </p> + <p> + “Hold them to my eyes,” I ordered. + </p> + <p> + Three minutes had gone by. + </p> + <p> + There it was—that for which I sought. Clear through the darkened + lenses I could see the sun spot, high up on the northern-most limb of the + sun. An unimaginable cyclone of incandescent gases; an unthinkably huge + dynamo pouring its floods of electro-magnetism upon all the circling + planets; that solar crater which we now know was, when at its maximum, all + of one hundred and fifty thousand miles across; the great sun spot of the + summer of 1919—the most enormous ever recorded by astronomical + science. + </p> + <p> + Five minutes had gone by. + </p> + <p> + Common sense whispered to me. There was no use keeping my eyes fixed to + the glasses. Even if that thought were true—even if that pillar of + radiance were a MESSENGER, an earth-hurled bolt flying to the sun through + atmosphere and outer space with the speed of light, even if it were this + stupendous creation of these Things, still between eight and nine minutes + must elapse before it could reach the orb; and as many minutes must go by + before the image of whatever its impact might produce upon the sun could + pass back over the bridge of light spanning the ninety millions of miles + between it and us. + </p> + <p> + And after all did not that hypothesis belong to the utterly impossible? + Even were it so—what was it that the Metal Monster expected to + follow? This radiant shaft, colossal as it was to us, was infinitesimal + compared to the target at which it was aimed. + </p> + <p> + What possible effect could that spear have upon the solar forces? + </p> + <p> + And yet—and yet—a gnat's bite can drive an elephant mad. And + Nature's balance is delicate; and what great happenings may follow the + slightest disturbance of her infinitely sensitive, her complex, + equilibrium? It might be—it might be— + </p> + <p> + Eight minutes had passed. + </p> + <p> + “Take the glasses,” I bade Drake. “Look up at the sun spot—the big + one.” + </p> + <p> + “I see it.” He had obeyed me. “What of it?” + </p> + <p> + Nine minutes. + </p> + <p> + The shaft, if I were right, had by now touched the sun. What was to + follow? + </p> + <p> + “I don't get you at all,” said Drake, and lowered the glasses. + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes. + </p> + <p> + “What's happening? Look at the Cones! Look at the Emperor!” gasped Drake. + </p> + <p> + I peered down, then almost forgot to count. + </p> + <p> + The pyramidal flame that had been the mount of Cones was shrunken. The + pillar of radiance had not lessened—but the mechanism that was its + source had retreated whole yards within the field of its crystal base. + </p> + <p> + And the Metal Emperor! Dulled and faint were his fires, dimmed his + splendors; and fainter still were the violet luminescences of the watching + Stars, the shimmering livery of his court. + </p> + <p> + The Keeper of the Cones! Were not its outstretched planes hovering lower + and lower over the gleaming tablet; its tentacles moving aimlessly, feebly—wearily? + </p> + <p> + I had a sense of force being withdrawn from all about me. It was as though + all the City were being drained of life—as though vitality were + being sucked from it to feed this pyramid of radiance; drained from it to + forge the thrusting spear piercing sunward. + </p> + <p> + The Metal People seemed to hang limply, inert; the living girders seemed + to sag; the living columns to bend; to droop and to sway. + </p> + <p> + Twelve minutes. + </p> + <p> + With a nerve-racking crash one of the laden beams fell; dragging down with + it others; bending, shattering in its fall a thicket of the horned + columns. Behind us the sparkling eyes of the wall were dimmed, vacant—dying. + Something of that hellish loneliness, that demoniac desire for immolation + that had assailed us in the haunted hollow of the ruins began to creep + over me. + </p> + <p> + The crowded crater was fainting. The life was going out of the City—its + magnetic life, draining into the shaft of green fire. + </p> + <p> + Duller grew the Metal Emperor's glories. + </p> + <p> + Fourteen minutes. + </p> + <p> + “Goodwin,” cried Drake, “the life's going out of these Things! Going out + with that ray they're shooting.” + </p> + <p> + Fifteen minutes. + </p> + <p> + I watched the tentacles of the Keeper grope over the tablet. Abruptly the + flaming pyramid darkened—WENT OUT. + </p> + <p> + The radiant pillar hurtled upward like a thunder-bolt; vanished in space. + </p> + <p> + Before us stood the mount of cones, shrunken to a sixth of its former + size. + </p> + <p> + Sixteen minutes. + </p> + <p> + All about the crater-lip the ringed shields tilted; thrust themselves on + high, as though behind each was an eager lifting arm. Below them the hived + clusters of disks changed from globules into wide coronets. + </p> + <p> + Seventeen minutes. + </p> + <p> + I dropped my wrist; seized the glasses from Drake; raised them to the sun. + For a moment I saw nothing—then a tiny spot of white incandescence + shone forth at the lower edge of the great spot. It grew into a point of + radiance, dazzling even through the shadowed lenses. + </p> + <p> + I rubbed my eyes; looked again. It was still there, larger—blazing + with an ever increasing and intolerable intensity. + </p> + <p> + I handed the glasses to Drake, silently. + </p> + <p> + “I see it!” he muttered. “I see it! And THAT did it—that! Goodwin!” + There was panic in his cry. “Goodwin! The spot! it's widening! It's + widening!” + </p> + <p> + I snatched the glasses from him. I caught again the dazzling flashing. But + whether Drake HAD seen the spot widen, change—to this day I do not + know. + </p> + <p> + To me it seemed unchanged—and yet—perhaps it was not. It may + be that under that finger of force, that spear of light, that wound in the + side of our sun HAD opened further— + </p> + <p> + That the sun had winced! + </p> + <p> + I do not to this day know. But whether it had or not—still shone the + intolerably brilliant light. And miracle enough that was for me. + </p> + <p> + Twenty minutes—subconsciously I had gone on counting—twenty + minutes— + </p> + <p> + About the cratered girdle of the upthrust shields a glimmering mistiness + was gathering; a translucent mist, beryl pale and beryl clear. In a + heart-beat it had thickened into a vast and vaporous ring through whose + swarms of corpuscles the sun's reflected image upon each disk shone clear—as + though seen through clouds of transparent atoms of aquamarine. + </p> + <p> + Again the filaments of the Keeper moved—feebly. As one of the hosts + of circling shields shifted downward. Brilliant, ever more brilliant, + waxed the fast-thickening mists. + </p> + <p> + Abruptly, and again as one, the disks began to revolve. From every concave + surface, from the surfaces of the huge circlets below them, flashed out a + stream of green fire—green as the fire of green life itself. + Corpuscular, spun of uncounted rushing, dazzling ions the great rays + struck across, impinged upon the thousand-foot wheel that crowned the + cones; set it whirling. + </p> + <p> + Over it I saw form a limpid cloud of the brilliant vapors. Whence came + these sparkling nebulosities, these mists of light? It was as though the + clustered, spinning disks reached into the shadowless air, sucked from it + some unseen, rhythmic energy and transformed it into this visible, + coruscating flood. + </p> + <p> + For now it was a flood. Down from the immense wheel came pouring cataracts + of green fires. They cascaded over the cones; deluged them; engulfed them. + </p> + <p> + Beneath that radiant inundation the cones grew. Perceptibly their volume + increased—as though they gorged themselves upon the light. No—it + was as though the corpuscles flew to them, coalesced and built themselves + into the structure. + </p> + <p> + Out and further out upon the base of crystal they crept. And higher and + higher soared their tips, thrusting, ever thrusting upward toward the + whirling wheel that fed them. + </p> + <p> + Now from the Keeper's planes writhed the Keeper's tangle of tentacles, + uncoiling eagerly, avidly, through the twenty feet of space between their + source and the enigmatic mechanism they manipulated. The crater's disks + tilted downward. Into the vast hollow shot their jets of green radiance, + drenching the Metal Hordes, splashing from the polished walls wherever the + Metal Hordes had left those living walls exposed. + </p> + <p> + All about us was a trembling, an accelerating pulse of life. Colossal, + rhythmic, ever quicker, ever more powerfully that pulse throbbed—a + prodigious vibration monstrously alive. + </p> + <p> + “Feeding!” whispered Drake. “Feeding! Feeding on the sun!” + </p> + <p> + Faster danced the radiant beams. The crater was a cauldron of green fires + through which the conical rays angled and interwove, crossed and mingled. + And where they mingled, where they crossed, flamed out suddenly immense + rayless orbs; palpitant for an instant, then dissolving in spiralling, + feathery spray of pallid emerald incandescences. + </p> + <p> + Stronger and stronger beat the pulse of returning life. + </p> + <p> + A jetting stream struck squarely upon the Metal Emperor. Out blazed his + splendors—jubilant. His golden zodiac, no longer tarnished and dull, + ran with sun flames; the wondrous rose was a racing, lambent miracle. + </p> + <p> + Up snapped the Keeper; towered behind him, all flickering scarlets and + leaping yellows—no longer wrathful or sullen. + </p> + <p> + The place dripped radiance; was filling like a chrisom with radiance. + </p> + <p> + Us, too, the sparkling mists bathed. + </p> + <p> + I was conscious of a curiously wild exhilaration; a quickening of the + pulse; an abnormally rapid breathing. I stooped to touch Drake; sparks + leaped from my outstretched fingers, great green sparks that crackled as + they impacted upon him. He gave them no heed; but stared with fascinated + eyes upon the crater. + </p> + <p> + Now from every side broke a tempest of gem fires. From every girder and + column, from every arras, pendent and looping, burst diamond glitterings, + ruby luminescences, lanced flames of molten emerald and sapphires, + flashings of amethyst and opal, meteoric iridescences, dazzling spectrums. + </p> + <p> + The hollow was a cave of some Aladdin of the Titans ablaze with enchanted + hoards. It was a place of gems ensorcelled, gems in which imprisoned hosts + of the Jinns of Light beat sparkling against their crystal walls to + escape. + </p> + <p> + I thrust the fantasies from me. Fantastic enough was this reality—globe + and pyramid and cube of the Metal People opening wide, bathing in, + drinking from the radiant maelstrom that faster and ever faster swirled + about them. + </p> + <p> + “Feeding!” It was Drake's awed voice. “Feeding on the sun!” + </p> + <p> + The circling shields were raising themselves, lifting themselves higher + above the crater-lip. Into the crowded cylinder came now only the rays + from the high circlets, the streams from the huge wheel above the still + growing cones. + </p> + <p> + Up and up the shields rose, but by what mechanism raised I could not see. + Their motion ceased; in all their thousands they turned. Over the City's + top and out into the oval valley they poured their torrents of light; + flooding it, deluging it even as they had this pit that was the City's + heart. Feeding, I knew, those other Metal Hordes without. + </p> + <p> + And as though in answer, sweeping down upon us through the circles of open + sky, a clamor poured. + </p> + <p> + “If we'd but known!” Drake's voice came to me, thin and unreal through the + tumult. “It's what Ventnor meant! If we had got down there when they were + so weak—if we could have handled the Keeper—we could have + smashed that plate that works the Cones! We could have killed them!” + </p> + <p> + “There are other Cones,” I cried back to him. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he shook his head. “This is the master machine. It's what Ventnor + meant when he said to strike through the sun. And we've lost the chance—” + </p> + <p> + Louder grew the hurricane without; and now within began its mate. Through + the mists flashed linked tempests of lightnings. Bolt upon javelin bolt, + and ever more thickly; lightnings green as the mists themselves; lightning + bolts of destroying violets, searing scarlets; tearing chains of withering + yellows, globes of exploding multicolored electric incandescences. + </p> + <p> + The crater was threaded with the lightnings of the Metal People; was + broidered with them; was a Pit woven with vast and changing patterns of + electric flame. + </p> + <p> + What was it that Drake had said? That if but we could have known we could + have destroyed these—Things—Destroyed—Them? Things that + could thrust their will and power up through ninety million miles of space + and suck from the sun the honey of power! Drain it and hive it within + these great mountains of the cones! + </p> + <p> + Destroy Things that could feed their own life into a machine to draw back + from the sun a greater life—Things that could forge of their + strength a spear which, piercing the side of the sun, sent gushing back + upon them a tenfold, nay, a thousandfold strength! + </p> + <p> + Destroy this City that was one vast and living dynamo feeding upon the + magnetic life of earth and sun! + </p> + <p> + The clamor had grown stupendous, destroying—like armored Gods + roaring at sword play in a hundred Valhallas; like the war drums of + battling universe; like the smitings of warring suns. + </p> + <p> + And all the City was throbbing, beating with a gigantic pulse of life—was + fed and drunken with life. I felt that pulsing become my own; I echoed to + it; throbbed in unison. I saw Drake outlined in flame; that around me a + radiant nimbus was growing. + </p> + <p> + I thought I saw Norhala floating, clothed in shouting, flailing fires. I + strove to call out to her. By me slipped the body of Drake; lay flaming at + my feet upon the narrow ledge. + </p> + <p> + There was a roaring within my head—louder, far louder, than that + which beat against my ears. Something was drawing me forth; drawing me out + of my body into unimaginable depths of blackness. Something was hurling me + out into those cold depths of space that alone could darken the fires that + encircled me—the fires of which I was becoming a part. + </p> + <p> + I felt myself leap outward—outward and outward—into—oblivion. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. PHANTASMAGORIA METALLIOUE. + </h2> + <p> + Wearily I opened my eyes. Stiffly, painfully, I stirred. High above me was + the tremendous circle of sky, ringed with the hosts of feeding shields. + But the shields were now wanly gleaming and the sky was the sky of night. + </p> + <p> + Night? How long had I lain here? And where was Drake? I struggled to rise. + </p> + <p> + “Steady, old man,” his voice came from beside me. “Steady—and quiet. + How are you feeling?” + </p> + <p> + “Badly battered,” I groaned. “What happened?” + </p> + <p> + “We weren't used to the show,” he said. “We got all fed up at the orgy. + Too much magnetism—we had a sudden and violent attack of electrical + indigestion. Sh-h—look ahead of you.” + </p> + <p> + Gingerly I turned. I had been lying, I now saw, head toward and prone at + the base of one of the crater's walls. As my gaze swept away I noted with + a curious relief that the tiny eye-points were no longer sparkling with + their enigmatic life, that they were dulled and dim once more. + </p> + <p> + Before me, glimmering pallidly, bristled the mount of the Cones. Around + its crystal base glittered immense egg-shaped diamond incandescences. They + were both rayless and strangely—lightless; they threw no shadows nor + did their lambency lessen the dimness. Beside each of these curious + luminosities stood one of the sullen-fired, cruciform shapes—the + Things that now I knew for the opened cubes. + </p> + <p> + They were smaller than the Keeper, indeed less than half his height. They + were ranged in an almost unbroken crescent around the visible arc of the + immense pedestal—and now I saw that the lights were a few feet + closer to that pedestal than they. Egg-shaped as I have said, the wider + end was undermost, resting in a broad cup upheld by a slender pedicle + silvery-gray and metallic. + </p> + <p> + “They're building out the base,” whispered Drake. “The Cones got so big + they have to give them more room.” + </p> + <p> + “Magnetism,” I whispered in return. “Electricity—they drew down from + the sun spot. And it was more than that—I saw the Cones grow under + it. It fed them as it fed the Hordes—but the Cones grew. It was as + though the shields and the Cones turned pure energy into substance.” + </p> + <p> + “And if we hadn't been pretty thoroughly magnetized to start with it would + have done for us,” he said. + </p> + <p> + We watched the operation going on in front of us. The cross shapes had + bent, hinging above the transverse arms. They bowed in absolute unison as + at some signal. Down from the horizontal plane of each whipped the long + and writhing tentacles. + </p> + <p> + At the foot of every one I could now perceive a heap of some faintly + glistening material. The tendrils coiled among this, then drew up + something that looked like a thick rod of crystal. The bent planes + straightened; simultaneously they thrust the crystalline bars toward the + incandescences. + </p> + <p> + There came a curious, brittle hissing. The ends of the rods began to + dissolve into dazzling, diamond rain, atomically minute, that passing + through the egg-shaped lights poured upon the periphery of the pedestal. + Rapidly the bars melted. Heat there must be in these lights, terrific heat—yet + the Keeper's workers seemed impervious to it. + </p> + <p> + As the ends of the bars radiated into the annealing mist I saw the + tentacles creep closer and ever closer to the rayless flame through which + the mist flew. And at the last, as the ultimate atoms drove through, the + holding tendrils were thrust almost within it; touched it, certainly. + </p> + <p> + A score of times they repeated this process while we watched. Unaware of + us they seemed, or—if aware, then indifferent. More rapid became + their movements, the glassy ingots streaming through the floating braziers + with hardly a pause in their passing. Abruptly, as though switched, the + incandescences lessened into candle-points; instantly, as at a signal, the + crescent of crosses closed into a crescent of cubes. + </p> + <p> + Motionless they stood, huge blocks blackened against the dim glowing of + the cones—sentient monoliths; a Druid curve; an arc of a metal + Stonehenge. And as at dusk and dawn the great menhirs of Stonehenge fill + with a mysterious, granitic life, seem to be praying priests of stone, so + about these gathered hierophantic illusion. + </p> + <p> + They quivered; the slender pedicles cupping, the waned lights swayed; the + lights lifted and soared, upright, to their backs. + </p> + <p> + Two by two with measured pace, solemnly the cubes glided off into the + encircling darkness. As they swept away there streamed behind them other + scores not until then visible to us, joining pair by pair from hidden + arcs. + </p> + <p> + Into the secret shadows they flowed, two by two, each bearing over it the + slim shaft holding the serene flame. + </p> + <p> + Grotesquely were they like a column of monks marching with dimmed flambeau + of their worship. Angled metal monks of some god of metal, carrying tapers + of electric fire, withdrawing slowly from a Holy of Holies whose + metallically divine Occupant knew nothing of man—nor cared to know. + </p> + <p> + Grotesque—yes. But would that I had the power to crystallize in + words the underlying, alien terror every movement of the Metal Monster + when disintegrate, its every manifestation when combined, evoked; the + incredulous, amazed lurking always close behind the threshold of the mind; + the never lifting, thin-shuddering shadow. + </p> + <p> + Smaller, dimmer waned the lights—they were gone. + </p> + <p> + We crouched, motionless. Nothing stirred; there was no sound. Without + speaking we arose; crept together over the smooth floor toward the cones. + </p> + <p> + As we crossed I saw that the pave, like the walls, was built of the bodies + of the Metal People; and, like the walls, they were dormant, filmed eyes + oblivious to our passing. Closer we crept—were only a scant score of + rods from that colossal mechanism. I noted that the crystal foundation was + set low; was not more than four feet above the floor. The sturdy, dwarfed + pilasters supporting it thrust up in crowded copses, merging through + distance into apparent solidity. + </p> + <p> + Now, too, I realized, as I had not when looking down from above, how + stupendous the structure rising from the crystal foundation was. + </p> + <p> + I began to wonder how so thin a support could bear the mount bristling + above it—then remembered what it was that at first had flown from + them, shrinking them, and at last had fed and swelled them. + </p> + <p> + Light! Weightless magnetic ions; swarms of electric ions; the misty breath + of the infinite energy breathing upon, condensing upon, them. Could it be + that the Cones for all their apparent mass had little, if any, weight? + Like ringed Saturn, thousands of times Earth's bulk, flaunting itself in + the Heavens—yet if transported to our world so light that rings and + all it would float like a bubble upon our oceans. The Cones towered above + me—close, so close. + </p> + <p> + The Cones were weightless. How I knew I cannot say—but now, almost + touching them, I did know. Nebulous, yet solid, were they; compact, yet + tenuous, dense and unsubstantial. + </p> + <p> + Again the thought came to me—they were force made visible; energy + made concentrate into matter. + </p> + <p> + We skirted, seeking for the tablet over which the Keeper had hovered; the + mechanism which, under his tentacles, had shifted the circling shields, + thrust the spear of green fire into the side of the wounded sun. + Hesitantly I touched the crystal base; the edge was warm, but whether this + warmth came from the dazzling rain which we had just watched build it + outward or whether it was a property inherent with the substance itself I + do not know. + </p> + <p> + Certainly there was no mark upon it to show where the molten mists had + fallen. It was diamond hard and smooth. The nearest cones were but a scant + nine feet from its rim. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly we saw the tablet; stood beside it. The shape of a great T, + glimmering with a faint and limpid violet phosphorescence, it might have + been, in shape and size, the palely shining shadow of the Keeper. It was a + foot above the floor, and had apparently no connection with the cones. + </p> + <p> + It was made of thousands of close-packed tiny octagonal rods the tops of + some of which were cupped, of others pointed; none was more than half an + inch in width. There was about it a suggestion of wedded crystal and metal—as + about its burden was the suggestion of mated energy and matter. + </p> + <p> + The rods were movable; they formed a keyboard unimaginably complex; a + keyboard whose infinite combinations were like a Fourth Dimensional chess + game. I saw that only the swarms of tentacles that were the Keeper's hands + and these only could be masters of its incredible intricacies. No Disk—not + even the Emperor, no Star shape could play on it, draw out its chords of + power. + </p> + <p> + But why? Why had it been so made that sullen flaming Cross alone could + release its hidden meanings, made articulate its interwoven octaves? And + how were its messages conveyed? Up to its bases pressed the dormant cubes—that + under it they lay as well I did not doubt. + </p> + <p> + There was no visible copula of the tablet with cones; no antennae between + it and the circled shields. Could it be that the impulses released by the + Keeper's coilings passed through the Metal People of the pave on the + upthrust Metal People of the crater rim who held the shields? + </p> + <p> + That WAS unthinkable—unthinkable because if so this mechanism was + superfluous. + </p> + <p> + The swift response to the communal will that we had observed showed that + the Metal Monster needed nothing of this kind for transmission of the + thought of any of its units. + </p> + <p> + There was some gap here—a gap that the grouped consciousness could + not bridge without other means. Clearly that was true—else why the + tablet, why the Keeper's travail? + </p> + <p> + Was each of these tiny rods a mechanism akin, in a fashion, to the sending + keys of the wireless; were they transmitters of subtle energy in which was + enfolded command? Spellers-out of a super-Morse carrying to each + responsive cell of the Metal Monster the bidding of those higher units + which were to It as the brain cells are to us? That, advanced as the + knowledge it implied might be, was closer to the heart of the possible. + </p> + <p> + I bent, determined, despite the well-nigh unconquerable shrinking I felt, + to touch the tablet's rods. + </p> + <p> + A flickering shadow fell upon me; a flock of pulsating ochreous and + scarlet shadows— + </p> + <p> + The Keeper glowed above us! + </p> + <p> + In a life that has had its share of dangers, its need for quick decisions, + I recognize that few indeed of my reactions to peril have been more than + purely instinctive; no more consciously courageous nor intellectually + dissociate from the activating stimulus than the shrinking of the burned + hand from the brand, the will-to-live dictated rush of the cornered animal + upon the thing menacing it. + </p> + <p> + One such higher functioning was when I followed Larry O'Keefe and Lakla, + the Handmaiden, out to what we believed soul-destroying death in a place + almost as strange as this *; another was now. Deliberately, detachedly, I + studied the angrily flaming Shape. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * See “The Moon Pool” and “The Conquest of the Moon Pool.” + </pre> + <p> + Compared to it we were as a pair of Hop-o'-my-Thumbs to the Giant; had it + been man-shaped we would have come less than a third way up to its knees. + I focussed my attention upon the twenty-foot-wide square that was the + Keeper's foot. Its surface was jewel smooth, hyaline—yet beneath it + was a suggestion of granulation, of close-packed, innumerable, microscopic + crystals. + </p> + <p> + Within these grains whose existence was more sensed than seen glowed dull + red light, smoky and sullen. At each end of the square, close to the + bottom, was a diamond-shaped lozenge, cabochon, perhaps a yard in width. + These were dim yellow, translucent, with no suggestion of the underlying + crystallization. Sense organs I set them down to be—similar to the + great ovals within the Emperor's golden zone. + </p> + <p> + My gaze traveled up to the transverse arms. They stretched sixty feet from + tip to tip. At each tip were two more of the diamond figures, not dull but + burning angrily with orange-and-scarlet luster. In the center of the beam + was something that might have been a smoldering rubrous reflection of the + Emperor's pulsing multicolored rose had each of the petals of the latter + been clipped and squared. + </p> + <p> + It deepened toward its heart into a singular pattern of vermilion + latticings. Into the entire figure ran numerous tiny rivulets of angry + crimson and orange light, angling in interwoven patterns with never a + curve nor arching. + </p> + <p> + Set at intervals between them were what looked like octagonal rosettes + filled with slender silvery flutings, wan striations—like—it + came to me—immense chrysanthemum buds, half opened, and carved in + gray jade. + </p> + <p> + Above towered the gigantic vertical beam. Toward its top I glimpsed a huge + square of flaring crimsons and bright topaz; two other diamonds stared + down upon us from just beneath it—like eyes. And over all its height + the striated octagons clustered. + </p> + <p> + I felt myself lifted, floated upward. Drake's hand shot out, clung to me + as together we drifted up the living wall. Opposite the latticed heart of + the square-petaled rose our flight was checked. There for an instant we + hung. Then the octagonal symbols stirred, unfolded like buds— + </p> + <p> + They were the nests of the Keeper's tentacles, and out from them the + whiplike tendrils uncoiled, shot out and writhed toward us. + </p> + <p> + My skin flinched from their touch; my body, held in the unseen grip, was + motionless. Yet when they touched their contact was not unpleasant. They + were like flexible strands of glass; their smooth tips questioned us, + passing through our hair, searching our faces, writhing over our clothing. + </p> + <p> + There was a pulse in the great clipped rose, a rhythmic throbbing of + vermilion fire that ran into it from the angled veins, beat through the + latticed nucleus and throbbed back whence it had come. The huge, high + square of scarlet and yellow was liquid flame; the diamond organs beneath + it seemed to smoke, to send out swirls of orange red vapor. + </p> + <p> + Holding us so the Keeper studied us. + </p> + <p> + The rhythm of the square rose, became the rhythm of my own mind. But here + was none of the vast, serene and elemental calm that Ruth had described as + emanating from the Metal Emperor. Powerful it was, without doubt, but in + it were undertones of rage, of impatience, overtones of revolt, something + incomplete and struggling. Within the disharmonies I seemed to sense a + fettered force striving for freedom; energy battling against itself. + </p> + <p> + Greater grew the swarms of the tentacles winding about us like slender + strands of glass, covering our faces, making breathing more and more + difficult. There was a coil of them around my throat and tightening—tightening. + </p> + <p> + I heard Drake gasping, laboring for breath. I could not turn my head + toward him, could not speak. Was this then to be our end? + </p> + <p> + The strangling clutch relaxed, the mass of the tentacles lessened. I was + conscious of a surge of anger through the cruciform Thing that held us. + </p> + <p> + Its sullen fires blazed. I was aware of another light beating past us—beating + down the Keeper's. The hosts of tendrils drew back from me. I felt myself + picked from the unseen grasp, whirled in the air and drawn away. + </p> + <p> + Drake beside me, I hung now before the Shining Disk—the Metal + Emperor! + </p> + <p> + He it was who had plucked us from the Keeper—and even as I swung I + saw the Keeper's multitudinous, serpentine arms surge out toward us + angrily and then sullenly, slowly, draw back into their nests. + </p> + <p> + And out of the Disk, clothing me, permeating me, came an immense + tranquillity, a muting of all human thought, all human endeavor, an + unthinkable, cosmic calm into which all that was human of me seemed to be + sinking, drowning as in a fathomless abyss. I struggled against it, + desperately, striving in study of the Disk to erect a barrier of + preoccupation against the power pouring from it. + </p> + <p> + A dozen feet away from us the sapphire ovals centered upon us their + regard. They were limpid, pellucid as gems whose giant replicas they + seemed to be. The surface of the Disk ringed about by the aureate zodiac + in which the nine ovals shone was a maze of geometric symbols traced in + the lines of living gem fires; infinitely complex those patterns and + infinitely beautiful; an infinite number of symmetric forms in which I + seemed to trace all the ordered crystalline wonders of the snowflakes, the + groupings of all crystalline patternings, the soul of ordered beauty that + are the marvels of the Radiolaria, Nature's own miraculous book of the + soul of mathematical beauty. + </p> + <p> + The flashing, petaled heart was woven of living rainbows of cold flame. + </p> + <p> + Silently we floated there while the Disk—LOOKED—at us. + </p> + <p> + And as though I had been not an actor but an observer, the weird picture + of it all came to me—two men swinging like motes in mid air, on one + side the flickering scarlet and orange Cruciform shape, on the other side + the radiant Disk, behind the two manikins the pallid mount of the + bristling cones; and high above the wan circle of the shields. + </p> + <p> + There was a ringing about us—an elfin chiming, sweet and + crystalline. It came from the cones—and strangely was it their vocal + synthesis, their voice. Into the vast circle of sky pierced a lance of + green fire; swift in its wake uprose others. + </p> + <p> + We slid gently down, stood swaying at the Disk's base. The Keeper bent; + angled. Again the planes above the supporting square hovered over the + tablet. The tendrils swept down, pushed here and there, playing upon the + rods some unknown symphony of power. + </p> + <p> + Thicker pulsed the lances of the aurora; changed to vast billowing + curtains. The faceted wheel at the top of the central spire of the cones + swung upward; a light began to stream from the cones themselves—no + pillar now, but a vast circle that shot whirling into the heavens like a + noose. + </p> + <p> + And like a noose it caught the aurora, snared it! + </p> + <p> + Into it the coruscating mists of mysterious flame swirled; lost their + colors, became a torrent of light flying down through the ring as though + through a funnel top. + </p> + <p> + Down poured the radiant corpuscles, bathing the cones. They did not glow + as they had beneath the flood from the shields, and if they grew it was + too slowly for me to see; the shields were motionless. Now here, now + there, I saw the other rings whirl up—smaller mouths of lesser cones + hidden within the body of the Metal Monster, I knew, sucking down this + magnetic flux, these countless ions gushing forth from the sun. + </p> + <p> + Then as when first we had seen the phenomenon in the valley of the blue + poppies, the ring vanished, hidden by a fog of coruscations—as + though the force streaming through the rings became diffused after it had + been caught. + </p> + <p> + Crouching, forgetful of our juxtaposition to these two unhuman, anomalous + Things, we watched the play of the tentacles upon the upthrust rods. + </p> + <p> + But if we forgot, we were not forgotten! + </p> + <p> + The Emperor slipped nearer; seemed to contemplate us—quizzically, + AMUSED; as a man would look down upon some curious and interesting insect, + a puppy, a kitten. I sensed this amusement in the Disk's regard even as I + had sensed its soul of awful tranquillity; as we had sensed the playful + malice in the eye stars of the living corridor, the curiosity in the + column that had dropped us into the valley. + </p> + <p> + I felt a push—a push that was filled with a colossal, GLITTERING + playfulness. + </p> + <p> + Under it I went spinning away for yards—Drake twirling close behind + me. The force, whatever it was, swept out from the Emperor, but in it was + no slightest hint of anger or of malice, no slightest shadow of the + sinister. + </p> + <p> + Rather it was as though one would blow away a feather; urge gently some + little lesser thing away. + </p> + <p> + The Disk watched our whirlings—with a sparkling, jeweled LAUGHTER in + its pulsing radiance. + </p> + <p> + Again came the push—farther yet we spun. Suddenly before us, across + the pave, shone out a twinkling trail—the wakened eyes of the cubes + that formed it, marking out a pathway for us to follow. + </p> + <p> + Immediately upon their gleaming forth I saw the Emperor turn—his + immense, oval, metallic back now black against the radiance of the cones. + </p> + <p> + Up from the narrow gleaming path—a path opened I knew by some + command—lifted the hosts of tiny unseen hands; the sentient currents + of magnetic force that were the fingers and arms of the Metal Hordes. They + held us, thrust us along, passed us forward. Faster and faster we moved, + speeding on the wake of the long-vanished metal monks. + </p> + <p> + I turned my head—the cones were already far away. Over the tablet of + limpid violet phosphorescence still hovered the planes of the Keeper; and + still was the oval of the Emperor black against the radiance. + </p> + <p> + But the twinkling, sparkling path between us and them was gone—was + fading out close behind us as we swept onward. + </p> + <p> + Faster and faster grew our pace. The cylindrical wall loomed close. A high + oblong portal showed within it. Into this we were carried. Before us + stretched a corridor precisely similar to that which, closing upon us, had + forced us completely out into the hall. + </p> + <p> + Unlike that passage, its floor lifted steeply—a smooth and shining + slide up which no man could climb. A shaft, indeed, which thrust upward + straight as an arrow at an angle of at least thirty degrees and whose end + or turning we could not see. Up and up it cleared its way through the City—through + the Metal Monster—closed only by the inability of the eye to pierce + the faint luminosity that thickened by distance became impenetrable. + </p> + <p> + For an instant we hovered upon its threshold. But the impulse, the + command, that had carried us thus far was not to stop here. Into it and up + it we were thrust, our feet barely touching the glimmering surface; lifted + by the force that emanated from its floor, carried on by the force that + pressed out from the sides. + </p> + <p> + Up and up we went—scores of feet—hundreds— + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII. THE ENSORCELLED CHAMBER + </h2> + <p> + “Goodwin!” Drake broke the silence; desperately he was striving to keep + his fear out of his voice. “Goodwin—this isn't the way to get out. + We're going up—farther away all the time from the—the gates!” + </p> + <p> + “What can we do?” My anxiety was no less than his, but my realization of + our helplessness was complete. + </p> + <p> + “If we only knew how to talk to these Things,” he said. “If we could only + have let the Disk know we wanted to get out—damn it, Goodwin, it + would have helped us.” + </p> + <p> + Grotesque as the idea sounded, I felt that he spoke the truth. The Emperor + meant no harm to us; in fact in speeding us away I was not at all sure + that he had not deliberately wished us well—there was that about the + Keeper— + </p> + <p> + Still up we sped along the shaft. I knew we must now be above the level of + the valley. + </p> + <p> + “We've got to get back to Ruth! Goodwin—NIGHT! And what may have + HAPPENED to her?” + </p> + <p> + “Drake, boy”—I dropped into his own colloquialism—“we're up + against it. We can't help it. And remember—she's there in Norhala's + home. I don't believe, I honestly don't believe, Dick, that there's any + danger as long as she remains there. And Ventnor ties her fast.” + </p> + <p> + “That's true,” he said, more hopefully. “That's true—and probably + Norhala is with her by now.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't doubt it,” I said cheerfully. An idea came to me—I half + believed it myself. “And another thing. There's not an action here that's + purposeless. We're being driven on by the command of that Thing we call + the Metal Emperor. It means us no harm. Maybe—maybe this IS the way + out.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe so,” he shook his head doubtfully. “But I'm not sure. Maybe that + long push was just to get us away from THERE. And it strikes me that the + impulse has begun to weaken. We're not going anywhere near as fast as we + were.” + </p> + <p> + I had not realized it, but our speed was slackening. I looked back—hundreds + of feet behind us fell the slide. An unpleasant chill went through me—should + the magnetic grip upon us relax, withdraw, nothing could stop us from + falling back along that incline to be broken like eggs at its end; that + our breaths would be snuffed out by the terrific descent long before we + reached that end was scant comfort. + </p> + <p> + “There are other passages opening up along this shaft,” Drake said. “I'm + not for trusting the Emperor too far—he has other things on his + metallic mind, you know. The next one we get to, let's try to slip into—if + we can.” + </p> + <p> + I had noticed; there had been openings along the ascending shaft; + corridors running apparently transversely to its angled way. + </p> + <p> + Slower and slower became our pace. A hundred yards above I glimpsed one of + the apertures. Could we reach it? Slower and slower we arose. Now the gap + was but a yard off—but we were motionless—were tottering! + </p> + <p> + Drake's arms wrapped round me. With a tremendous effort he hurled me into + the portal. I dropped at its edge, writhed swiftly around, saw him + slipping, slipping down—thrust my hands out to him. + </p> + <p> + He caught them. There came a wrench that tortured my arm sockets as though + racked. But he held! + </p> + <p> + Slowly—I writhed back into the passage, dragging up his almost dead + weight. His head appeared, his shoulders; there was a convulsion of the + long body and he lay before me. + </p> + <p> + For a minute or two we lay, flat upon our backs resting. I sat up. The + passage was broad, silent; apparently as endless as that from which we had + just escaped. + </p> + <p> + Along it, above us, under us, the crystalline eyes were dim. It showed no + sign of movement—yet had it done so there was nothing we could do + save drop down the annihilating slant. Drake arose. + </p> + <p> + “I'm hungry,” he said, “and I'm thirsty. I move that we eat and drink and + approximately be merry.” + </p> + <p> + He slung aside the haversack. From it we took food; from the canteens we + drank. We did not talk. Each knew what the other was thinking; + infrequently, and thank the eternal law that some call God for that, come + crises in which speech seems not only petty but when against it the mind + rebels as a nauseous thing. + </p> + <p> + This was such a time. At last I drew myself to my feet. + </p> + <p> + “Let's be going,” I said. + </p> + <p> + The corridor stretched straight before us; along it we paced. How far we + walked I do not know; mile upon mile, it seemed. It broadened abruptly + into a vast hall. + </p> + <p> + And this hall was filled with the Metal Hordes—was a gigantic + workshop of them. In every shape, in every form, they seethed and toiled + about it. Upon its floor were heaps of shining ores, mounds of flashing + gems, piles of ingots, metallic and crystalline. High and low throughout + flamed the egg-shaped incandescences; floating furnaces both great and + small. + </p> + <p> + Before one of these forges, close to us, stood a Metal Thing. Its body was + a twelve-foot column of smaller cubes. Upon the top was a hollow square + formed of even lesser blocks—blocks hardly larger than the Little + Things themselves. In the center of the open rectangle was another shaft, + its top a two-foot square plate formed of a single cube. + </p> + <p> + From the sides of the hollow square sprang long arms of spheres, each + tipped by a tetrahedron. They moved freely, slipping about upon their + curved points of contact and like a dozen little thinking hammers, the + pyramid points at their ends beat down upon as many thimble shaped objects + which they thrust alternately into the unwinking brazier then laid upon + the central block to shape. + </p> + <p> + A goblin workman the Thing seemed, standing there, so intent upon and so + busy with its forgings. + </p> + <p> + There were scores of these animate machines; they paid no slightest heed + to us as we slipped by them, clinging as closely to the wall of the + immense workshop as we could. + </p> + <p> + We passed a company of other Shapes which stood two by two and close + together, their tops wide spinning wheels through which the tendrils of an + opened globe fed translucent, colorless ingots—the substance it + seemed to me of which Norhala's shadowy walls were made, the crystal of + which the bars that built out the base of the Cones were formed. + </p> + <p> + The ingots passed between the whirling faces; emerged from them as + slender, long cylinders; were seized as they slipped down by a crouching + block, whose place as it glided away was instantly taken by another. In + many bewildering forms, intent upon unknown activities directed toward + unguessable ends, the composite, animate mechanisms labored. And all the + place was filled with a goblin bustle, trollish racketings, ringing of + gnomish anvils, clanging of kobold forges—a clamorous cavern filled + with metal Nibelungens. + </p> + <p> + We came to the opening of another passage, a doorway piercing the walls of + the workshop. Its incline, though steep, was not dangerous. + </p> + <p> + Into it we stepped; climbed onward it seemed interminably. Far ahead of us + at last appeared the outline of its further entrance, silhouetted against + and filled with a brighter luminosity. We drew near; stopped cautiously at + its threshold, peering out. + </p> + <p> + Well it was that we had hesitated. Before us was open space—an abyss + in the body of the Metal Monster. + </p> + <p> + The corridor opened into it like a window. Thrusting out our heads, we saw + an unbroken wall both above and below. Half a mile away was its opposite + side. Over this pit was a misty sky and not more than a thousand feet + above and black against the heavens was the lip of it—the cornices + of this chasm within the City. + </p> + <p> + Far, far beneath us we watched the Hordes throw themselves across the + abyss in webs of curving arches and girder-straight bridges; gigantic we + knew these spans must be yet dwarfed to slender footways by distance. Over + them moved hurrying companies; from them came flashings, glitterings—prismatic, + sun golden; plutonic scarlets, molten blues; javelins of colored light + piercing upward from unfolded cubes and globes and pyramids crossing them + or from busy bearers of the shining fruits of the mysterious workshops. + </p> + <p> + And as they passed the bridges swung up, coiled and thrust themselves from + sight through openings that closed behind them. Ever, as they passed, + close on their going whipped out other spans so that always across that + abyss a sentient, shifting web was hung. + </p> + <p> + We drew back, stared into each other's white face. Panic swept through me, + in quick, alternate pulse of ice and fire. For crushingly, no longer to be + denied, came certainty that we were lost within the mazes of this + incredible City—lost in the body of the Metal Monster which that + City was. There was a sick despair in my heart as we turned and slowly + made our way back along the sloping corridor. + </p> + <p> + A hundred yards, perhaps, we had gone in silence before we stopped, gazing + stupidly at an opening in the wall beside us. The portal had not been + there when we had passed—of that I was certain. + </p> + <p> + “It's opened since we went by,” whispered Drake. + </p> + <p> + We peered through it. The passage was narrow; its pave led downward. For a + moment we hesitated, the same foreboding in both our minds. And yet—among + the perils that crowded in upon us what choice had we? There could be no + more danger there than here. + </p> + <p> + Both ways were—ALIVE, both obedient to impulses over which we had no + more control and no more way of predetermining than mice in some complex, + man-made trap. Furthermore, this shaft also ran downward, and although its + pitch was less and it did not therefore drop as quickly toward that level + we sought and wherein lay the openings of escape into the outer valley, it + fell at right angles to the corridor through which we had come. + </p> + <p> + We knew that to retrace our steps now would but take us back to the forges + and thence to the hall of the Cones and the certain peril waiting for us + there. + </p> + <p> + We stepped into this opened way. For a little distance it ran straightly, + then turned and sloped gently upward; and a little distance more we + climbed. Then suddenly, not a hundred yards from us, gushed out a flood of + soft radiance, opalescent, filled with pearly glimmerings and rosy shadows + of light. + </p> + <p> + It was as though a door had opened into some world of luminescence. From + it the lambent torrent poured; billowed down upon us. In its wake came + music—if music the mighty harmonies, the sonorous chords, the + crystalline themes and the linked chaplet of notes that were like + spiralings of tiny golden star bells could be named. + </p> + <p> + Toward source of light and sound we moved, nor could we have halted nor + withdrawn had we willed; the radiance drew us to it as the sun the water + drop, and irresistibly the sweet, unearthly music called. Closer we came—it + was a narrow alcove from which sound and light poured—into it we + crept—and went no further. + </p> + <p> + We peered into a vast and columnless vault, a limitless temple of light. + High up in it, strewn manifold, danced and shone soft orbs like tender + suns. No pale gilt luminaries of frozen rays were these. Effulgent, + jubilant, they flamed—orbs red as wine of rubies that Djinns of Al + Shiraz press from his enchanted vineyards of jewels; twin orbs rosy white + as breasts of pampered Babylonian maids; orbs of pulsing opalescences and + orbs of the murmuring green of bursting buds of spring, crocused orbs and + orbs of royal coral; suns that throbbed with singing rays of wedded rose + and pearl and of sapphires and topazes amorous; orbs born of cool virginal + dawns and of imperial sunsets and orbs that were the tuliped fruit of + mating rainbows of fire. + </p> + <p> + They danced, these countless aureoles; they swung and threaded in radiant + choral patterns, in linked harmonies of light. And as they danced their + gay rays caressed and bathed myriads of the Metal Folk open beneath them. + Under the rays the jewel fires of disk and star and cross leaped and + pulsed and danced to the same bright rhythm. + </p> + <p> + We sought the source of the music—a tremendous thing of shimmering + crystal pipes like some colossal organ. Out of the radiance around it + great flames gathered, shook into sight with streamings and pennonings, in + bannerets and bandrols, leaped upon the crystal pipes, and merged within + them. + </p> + <p> + And as the pipes drank them the flames changed into sound! + </p> + <p> + Throbbing bass viols of roaring vernal winds, diapasons of waterfall and + torrents—these had been flames of emerald; flaming trumpetings of + desire that had been great streamers of scarlet—rose flames that had + dissolved into echoes of fulfillment; diamond burgeonings that melted into + silver symphonies like mist entangled Pleiades transmuted into melodies; + chameleon harmonies to which the strange suns danced. + </p> + <p> + And now I saw—realizing with a clutch of indescribable awe, with a + sense of inexplicable profanation the secret of this ensorcelled chamber. + </p> + <p> + Within every pulsing rose of irised fire that was the heart of a disk, + from every rubrous, clipped rose of a cross, and from every rayed purple + petaling of a star there nestled a tiny disk, a tiny cross, a tiny star, + luminous and symboled even as those that cradled them. + </p> + <p> + The Metal Babes building like crystals from hearts of radiance beneath the + play of jocund orbs! + </p> + <p> + Incredible blossomings of crystal and of metal whose lullabies and cradle + songs were singing symphonies of flame. + </p> + <p> + It was the birth chamber of the City! + </p> + <p> + The womb of the Metal Monster! + </p> + <p> + Abruptly the walls of the niche sparkled out, the glittering eye points + regarding us with a most disquieting suggestion of sentinels who, + slumbering, had been caught unaware, and now awakening challenged us. + Swiftly the niche closed—so swiftly that barely had we time to + spring over its threshold into the corridor. + </p> + <p> + The corridor was awake—alive! + </p> + <p> + The power darted out; gripped us. Up it swept us and on. Far away a square + of light appeared, grew quickly larger. Framed in it was the amethystine + burning of the great ring that girdled the encircling cliffs. + </p> + <p> + I turned my head—behind us the corridor was closing! + </p> + <p> + Now the opening was so close that through it I could see the vast panorama + of the valley. The wall behind us touched us; pushed us on. We thrust + ourselves against it, despairingly. As well might flies have tried to + press back a moving mountain. + </p> + <p> + Resistingly, inexorably we were pressed forward. Now we cowered within a + yard-deep niche; now we trembled upon a foot-wide ledge. + </p> + <p> + Shuddering, gasping, we glared down the sheer drop of the City's wall. The + smooth and glimmering scarp fell thousands of feet straight to the valley + floor. And there were no merciful mists to hide what awaited us there; no + mists anywhere. In that brief, agonized glance every detail of the Pit was + disclosed with an abnormal clarity. + </p> + <p> + We tottered on the brink. The ledge melted. + </p> + <p> + Down, down we plunged, locked in each other's arms, hurtling to the + shattering death so far below! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII. THE TREACHERY OF YURUK + </h2> + <p> + Was it true that Time is within ourselves—that like Space, its twin, + it is only a self-created illusion of the human mind? There are hours that + flash by on hummingbird wings; there are seconds that shuffle on shod in + leaden shoes. + </p> + <p> + Was it true that when death faces us the consciousness finds power through + its will to live to conquer the illusion—to prolong Time? That, + recoiling from oblivion, we can recreate in a fractional moment whole + years gone past, years yet to come—striving to lengthen our + existence, stretching out our apperception beyond the phantom boundaries, + overdrawing upon a Barmecide deposit of minutes, staking fresh claims upon + a mirage? + </p> + <p> + How else explain the seeming slowness with which we were falling—the + seeming leisureness with which the wall drifted up past us? + </p> + <p> + And was this punishment—a sentence meted out for profaning with our + eyes a forbidden place; a penalty for touching with our gaze the ark of + the Metal Tribes—their holy of holies—the budding place of the + Metal Babes? + </p> + <p> + The valley was swinging—swinging in slow broad curves; was + oscillating dizzily. + </p> + <p> + Slowly the colossal wall slipped upward. + </p> + <p> + Realization swept me; left me amazed; only half believing. This was no + illusion. After that first swift plunge our fall had been checked. We were + swinging—not the valley. + </p> + <p> + Deliberately, in wide arcs like pendulums, we were swinging across the + City's scarp; three feet out from it, and as we swung, slowly sinking. + </p> + <p> + And now I saw the countless eyes of the watching wall again were + twinkling, regarding us with impish mockery. + </p> + <p> + It was the grip of the living wall that held us; that rocked us from side + to side as though giving greater breadths of it chance to behold us; that + was dropping us gently, carefully, to the valley floor now a scant two + thousand feet below. + </p> + <p> + A storm of rage, of intensest resentment swept me; as once before any + gratitude I should have felt for escape was submerged in the utter + humiliation with which it was charged. + </p> + <p> + I shook my fists at the twinkling wall, strove to kick and smite it like + an angry child, cursed it—not childishly. Dared it to hurl me down + to death. + </p> + <p> + I felt Drake's hand touch mine. + </p> + <p> + “Steady,” he said. “Steady, old boy. It's no use. Steady. Look down.” + </p> + <p> + Hot with shame for my outburst, weak from its violence, I obeyed. The + valley floor was not more than a thousand feet away. Thronging about where + we must at last touch, clustered and seething, was a multitude of the + Metal Things. They seemed to be looking up at us, watching, waiting for + us. + </p> + <p> + “Reception committee,” grinned Drake. + </p> + <p> + I glanced away; over the valley. It was luminously clear; yet the sky was + overcast, no stars showing. The light was no stronger than that of the + moon at full, but it held a quality unfamiliar to me. It cast no shadows; + though soft, it was piercing, revealing all it bathed with the + distinctness of bright sunshine. The illumination came, I thought, from + the encircling veils falling from the band of amethyst. + </p> + <p> + And, as I peered, out of the veils and far away sped a violet spark. With + meteor speed it flew toward us. Close to the base of the vast facade it + landed with a flashing of blue incandescence. I knew it for one of the + Flying Things, the Mark Makers—one of the incredible messengers. + </p> + <p> + Close upon its fall came increase in the turmoil of the crowding throng + awaiting us. Came, too, an abrupt change in our own motion. The long arcs + lessened. We were dropped more swiftly. + </p> + <p> + Far away in the direction from which the Flying Thing had flown I sensed + another movement; something coming that carried with it subtle suggestion + of unlikeness to all the other incessant, linked movement over the pit. + Closer it drew. + </p> + <p> + “Norhala!” gasped Drake. + </p> + <p> + Robed in her silken amber swathings, red-copper hair streaming, woven with + elfin sparklings, she was racing toward the City like some lovely witch, + riding upon the back of a steed of huge cubes. + </p> + <p> + Nearer she raced. More direct became our fall. Now we were dropping as + though at the end of an unreeling plummet cord; the floor of the valley + was no more than two hundred feet below. + </p> + <p> + “Norhala!” we shouted; and again and again—again “Norhala!” + </p> + <p> + Before our cries could have reached her the cubes swerved; came to a halt + beneath us. Through the hundred feet of space between I caught the + brilliancy of the weird constellations in Norhala's great eyes—saw + with a vague but no less dire foreboding that on her face dwelt a + terrifying, a blasting wrath. + </p> + <p> + As softly as though by the hand of a giant of cloud we were lifted out + from the wall, and were set with no perceptible shock beside her on the + back of the cubes. + </p> + <p> + “Norhala—” I stopped. For this was no Norhala whom we had known. + Gone was all calm, vanished every trace of unearthly tranquillity. It was + a Norhala awakened at last—all human. + </p> + <p> + Yet in the still rage that filled her I sensed a force, an intensity, more + than human. Over the blazing eyes the brows were knit in a rigid, golden + bar; the delicate nostrils were pinched; the sweet red mouth was white and + merciless. It was as though in its long sleep her human self had gathered + more than human strength, and that now, awakened and unleashed, the + violence of its rage touched the vibrant zenith of that sphere of which + her quiet had been the nadir. + </p> + <p> + She was like an urn filled and flaming with the fires of the Gods of + wrath. + </p> + <p> + What was it that had awakened her—what in awakening had changed the + inpouring human consciousness into this flood of fury? Foreboding gripped + me. + </p> + <p> + “Norhala!” My voice was shaking. “Those we left—” + </p> + <p> + “They are gone!” The golden voice was octaves deeper, vibrant, throbbing + with that muffled, menacing note that must have pulsed from the golden + tambours that summoned to battle Timur's fierce hordes. “They were—taken.” + </p> + <p> + “Taken!” I gasped. “Taken by what—these?” I swept my hands out + toward the Metal Things milling around us. + </p> + <p> + “No! THESE are mine. These are they who obey me.” The golden voice now + shrilled with her passion. “Taken by—men!” + </p> + <p> + Drake had read my face although he could not understand our words. + </p> + <p> + “Ruth—” + </p> + <p> + “Taken,” I said. “Both Ruth and Ventnor. Taken by the armored men—the + men of Cherkis!” + </p> + <p> + “Cherkis!” She had caught the word. “Yes—Cherkis! And now he and all + his men—and all his women—and every living thing he rules + shall pay. And fear not—you two. For I, Norhala, will bring back my + own. + </p> + <p> + “Woe, woe to you, Cherkis, and to all of yours! For I, Norhala, am awake, + and I, Norhala, remember. Woe to you, Cherkis, woe—for now all ends + for you! + </p> + <p> + “Not by the gods of my mother who turned their strength against her do I + promise this. I, Norhala, have no need for them—I, Norhala, who have + strength greater than they. And would I could crush those gods as I shall + crush you, Cherkis—and every living thing of yours! Yea—and + every UNLIVING thing as well!” + </p> + <p> + Not halting now was Norhala's speech; it poured from the ruthless lips—flamingly. + </p> + <p> + “We go,” she cried. “And something of vengeance I have saved for you—as + is your right.” + </p> + <p> + She tossed her arms high; stamped upon the back of the Metal Thing that + held us. + </p> + <p> + It quivered and sped away. Swiftly dwindled the City's bulk; fast faded + its glimmering watchful face. + </p> + <p> + Not toward the veils of light but out over the plain we flew. Above us, + crouching against the blast of our going, streamed like a silken banner + Norhala's hair, gemmed with the witch lights. + </p> + <p> + We were far out now, the City far away. The cube slowed. Norhala threw + high her head. From the arched, exquisite throat pealed a trumpet call—golden, + summoning, imperious. Thrice it rang forth—and all the surrounding + valley seemed to halt and listen. + </p> + <p> + Followed upon its ending, a chanting as goldenly sonorous. Wild, + peremptory, triumphant. It was like a mustering shouting to adventurous + stars, buglings to buccaneering winds, cadenced beckonings to restless + ranks of viking waves, signaling to all the corsairs and picaroons of the + elemental. + </p> + <p> + A cosmic call to slay! + </p> + <p> + The gigantic block upon which we rode quivered; I myself felt a thousand + needle-pointed roving arrows prick me, urging me on to some jubilant, + reckless orgy of destruction. + </p> + <p> + Obeying that summoning there swirled to us cube and globe and pyramid by + the score—by the hundreds. They swept into our wake and followed—lifting + up behind us, an ever-rising sea. + </p> + <p> + Higher and higher arose the metal wave—mounting, ever mounting as + other score upon score leaped upon it, rushed up it and swelled its crest. + And soon so great it was that it shadowed us, hung over us. + </p> + <p> + The cubes we rode angled in their course; raced now with ever-increasing + speed toward the spangled curtains. + </p> + <p> + And still Norhala's golden chant lured; higher and even higher reached the + following wave. Now we were rising upon a steep slope; now the + amethystine, gleaming ring was almost overheard. + </p> + <p> + Norhala's song ceased. One breathless, soundless moment and we had pierced + the veils. A globule of sapphire shone afar, the elfin bubble of her home. + We neared it. + </p> + <p> + Heart leaping, I saw three ponies, high and empty saddles turquoise + studded, lift their heads from their roadway browsing. For a moment they + stood, stiff with terror; then whimpering raced away. + </p> + <p> + We were at Norhala's door; were lifted down; stood close to its threshold. + Slaves to a single thought, Drake and I sprang to enter. + </p> + <p> + “Wait!” Norhala's white hands caught us. “There is peril there—without + me! Me you must—follow!” + </p> + <p> + Upon the exquisite face was no unshadowing of wrath, no diminishing of + rage, no weakening of dreadful determination. The star-flecked eyes were + not upon us; they looked over and beyond—coldly, calculatingly. + </p> + <p> + “Not enough,” I heard her whisper. “Not enough—for that which I will + do.” + </p> + <p> + We turned, following her gaze. A hundred feet on high, stretching nearly + across the gorge, an incredible curtain was flung. Over its folds was + movement—arms of spinning globes that thrust forth like paws and + down upon which leaped pyramid upon pyramid stiffening as they clung like + bristling spikes of hair; great bars of clicking cubes that threw + themselves from the shuttering—shook and withdrew. The curtain was a + ferment—shifting, mercurial; it throbbed with desire, palpitated + with eagerness. + </p> + <p> + “Not enough!” murmured Norhala. + </p> + <p> + Her lips parted; from them came another trumpeting—tyrannic, + arrogant and clangorous. Under it the curtaining writhed—out from it + spurted thin cascades of cubes. They swarmed up into tall pillars that + shook and swayed and gyrated. + </p> + <p> + With blinding flash upon flash the sapphire incandescences struck forth at + their feet. A score of flaming columned shapes leaped up and curved in + meteor flight over the tumultuous curtain. Streaming with violet fires + they shot back to the valley of the City. + </p> + <p> + “Hai!” shouted Norhala as they flew. “Hai!” + </p> + <p> + Up darted her arms; the starry galaxies of her eyes danced madly, shot + forth visible rays. The mighty curtain of the Metal Things pulsed and + throbbed; its units interweaving—block and globe and pyramid of + which it was woven, each seeming to strain at leash. + </p> + <p> + “Come!” cried Norhala—and led the way through the portal. + </p> + <p> + Close behind her we pressed. I stumbled, nearly fell, over a brown-faced, + leather-cuirassed body that lay half over, legs barring the threshold. + </p> + <p> + Contemptuously Norhala stepped over it. We were within that chamber of the + pool. About it lay a fair dozen of the armored men. Ruth's defense, I + thought with a grim delight, had been most excellent—those who had + taken her and Ventnor had not done so without paying full toll. + </p> + <p> + A violet flashing drew my eyes away. Close to the pool wherein we had + first seen the white miracle of Norhala's body, two immense, purple fired + stars blazed. Between them, like a suppliant cast from black iron, was + Yuruk. + </p> + <p> + Poised upon their nether tips the stars guarded him. Head touching his + knees, eyes hidden within his folded arms, the black eunuch crouched. + </p> + <p> + “Yuruk!” + </p> + <p> + There was an unearthly mercilessness in Norhala's voice. + </p> + <p> + The eunuch raised his head; slowly, fearfully. + </p> + <p> + “Goddess!” he whispered. “Goddess! Mercy!” + </p> + <p> + “I saved him,” she turned to us, “for you to slay. He it was who brought + those who took the maid who was mine and the helpless one she loved. Slay + him.” + </p> + <p> + Drake understood—his hand twitched down to his pistol, drew it. He + leveled the gun at the black eunuch. Yuruk saw it—shrieked and + cowered. Norhala laughed—sweetly, ruthlessly. + </p> + <p> + “He dies before the stroke falls,” she said. “He dies doubly therefore—and + that is well.” + </p> + <p> + Drake slowly lowered the automatic; turned to me. + </p> + <p> + “I can't,” he said. “I can't—do it—” + </p> + <p> + “Masters!” Upon his knees the eunuch writhed toward us. “Masters—I + meant no wrong. What I did was for love of the Goddess. Years upon years I + have served her. And her mother before her. + </p> + <p> + “I thought if the maid and the blasted one were gone, that you would + follow. Then I would be alone with the Goddess once more. Cherkis will not + slay them—and Cherkis will welcome you and give the maid and the + blasted one back to you for the arts that you can teach him. + </p> + <p> + “Mercy, Masters, I meant no harm—bid the Goddess be merciful!” + </p> + <p> + The ebon pools of eyes were clarified of their ancient shadows by his + terror; age was wiped from them by fear, even as it was wiped from his + face. The wrinkles were gone. Appallingly youthful, the face of Yuruk + prayed to us. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you wait?” she asked us. “Time presses, and even now we should be + on the way. When so many are so soon to die, why tarry over one? Slay + him!” + </p> + <p> + “Norhala,” I answered, “we cannot slay him so. When we kill, we kill in + fair fight—hand to hand. The maid we both love has gone, taken with + her brother. It will not bring her back if we kill him through whom she + was taken. We would punish him—yes, but slay him we cannot. And we + would be after the maid and her brother quickly.” + </p> + <p> + A moment she looked at us, perplexity shading the high and steady anger. + </p> + <p> + “As you will,” she said at last; then added, half sarcastically, “Perhaps + it is because I who am now awake have slept so long that I cannot + understand you. But Yuruk has disobeyed ME. That of MINE which I committed + to his care he has given to the enemies of me and those who were mine. It + matters nothing to me what YOU would do. Matters to me only what I will to + do.” + </p> + <p> + She pointed to the dead. + </p> + <p> + “Yuruk”—the golden voice was cold—“gather up these carrion and + pile them together.” + </p> + <p> + The eunuch arose, stole out fearfully from between the two stars. He + slithered to body after body, dragging them one after the other to the + center of the chamber, lifting them and forming of them a heap. One there + was who was not dead. His eyes opened as the eunuch seized him, the + blackened mouth opened. + </p> + <p> + “Water!” he begged. “Give me drink. I burn!” + </p> + <p> + I felt a thrill of pity; lifted my canteen and walked toward him. + </p> + <p> + “You of the beard,” the merciless chime rang out, “he shall have no water. + But drink he shall have, and soon—drink of fire!” + </p> + <p> + The soldier's fevered eyes rolled toward her, saw and read aright the + ruthlessness in the beautiful face. + </p> + <p> + “Sorceress!” he groaned. “Cursed spawn of Ahriman!” He spat at her. + </p> + <p> + The black talons of Yuruk stretched around his throat + </p> + <p> + “Son of unclean dogs!” he whined. “You dare blaspheme the Goddess!” + </p> + <p> + He snapped the soldier's neck as though it had been a rotten twig. + </p> + <p> + At the callous cruelty I stood for an instant petrified; I heard Drake + swear wildly, saw his pistol flash up. + </p> + <p> + Norhala struck down his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Your chance has passed,” she said, “and not for THAT shall you slay him.” + </p> + <p> + And now Yuruk had cast that body upon the others; the pile was complete. + </p> + <p> + “Mount!” commanded Norhala, and pointed. He cast himself at her feet, + writhing, moaning, imploring. She looked at one of the great Shapes; + something of command passed from her, something it understood plainly. + </p> + <p> + The star slipped forward—there was an almost imperceptible movement + of its side points. The twitching form of the black seemed to leap up from + the floor, to throw itself like a bag upon the mound of the dead. + </p> + <p> + Norhala threw up her hands. Out of the violet ovals beneath the upper tips + of the Things spurted streams of blue flame. They fell upon Yuruk and + splashed over him upon the heap of the slain. In the mound was a dreadful + movement, a contortion; the bodies stiffened, seemed to try to rise, to + push away—dead nerves and muscles responding to the blasting energy + passing through them. + </p> + <p> + Out from the stars rained bolt upon bolt. In the chamber was the sound of + thunder, crackling like broken glass. The bodies flamed, crumbled. There + was a little smoke—nauseous, feebly protesting, beaten out by the + consuming fires almost before it could rise. + </p> + <p> + Where had been the heap of slain capped by the black eunuch there was but + a little whirling cloud of sad gray dust. Caught by a passing draft, it + eddied, slipped over the floor, vanished through the doorway. Motionless + stood the blasting stars, contemplating us. Motionless stood Norhala, her + wrath no whit abated by the ghastly sacrifice. And paralyzed by what we + had beheld, motionless stood we. + </p> + <p> + “Listen,” she said. “You two who love the maid. What you have seen is + nothing to that which you SHALL see—a wisp of mist to the storm + cloud.” + </p> + <p> + “Norhala”—I found speech—“can you tell us when it was that the + maid was captured?” + </p> + <p> + Perhaps there was still time to overtake the abductors before Ruth was + thrust into the worse peril waiting where she was being carried. Crossed + this thought another—puzzling, baffling. The cliffs Yuruk had + pointed out to me as those through which the hidden way passed were, I had + estimated then, at least twenty miles away. And how long was the pass, the + tunnel, through them? And then how far this place of the armored men? It + had been past dawn when Drake had frightened the black eunuch with his + pistol. It was not yet dawn now. How could Yuruk have made his way to the + Persians so swiftly—how could they so swiftly have returned? + </p> + <p> + Amazingly she answered the spoken question and the unspoken. + </p> + <p> + “They came long before dusk,” she said. “By the night before Yuruk had won + to Ruszark, the city of Cherkis; and long before dawn they were on their + way hither. This the black dog I slew told me.” + </p> + <p> + “But Yuruk was with us here at dawn yesterday,” I gasped. + </p> + <p> + “A night has passed since then,” she said, “and another night is almost + gone.” + </p> + <p> + Stunned, I considered this. If this were true—and not for an instant + did I doubt her—then not for a few hours had we lain there at the + foot of the living wall in the Hall of the Cones—but for the balance + of that day and that night, and another day and part of still another + night. + </p> + <p> + “What does she say?” Drake stared anxiously into my whitened face. I told + him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” Norhala spoke again. “The dusk before the last dusk that has passed + I returned to my house. The maid was there and sorrowing. She told me you + had gone into the valley, prayed me to help you and to bring you back. I + comforted her, and something of—the peace—I gave her; but not + all, for she fought against it. A little we played together, and I left + her sleeping. I sought you and found you also sleeping. I knew no harm + would come to you, and I went my ways—and forgot you. Then I came + here again—and found Yuruk and these the maid had slain.” + </p> + <p> + The great eyes flashed. + </p> + <p> + “Now do I honor the maid for the battle that she did,” she said, “though + how she slew so many strong men I do not know. My heart goes out to her. + And therefore when I bring her back she shall no more be plaything to + Norhala, but sister. And with you it shall be as she wills. And woe to + those who have taken her!” + </p> + <p> + She paused, listening. From without came a rising storm of thin wailings, + insistent and eager. + </p> + <p> + “But I have an older vengeance than this to take,” the golden voice tolled + somberly. “Long have I forgotten—and shame I feel that I had forgot. + So long have I forgotten all hatreds, all lusts, all cruelty—among—these—” + She thrust a hand forth toward the hidden valley. “Forgot—dwelling + in the great harmonies. Save for you and what has befallen I would never + have stirred from them, I think. But now awakened, I take that vengeance. + After it is done”—she paused—“after it is over I shall go back + again. For this awakening has in it nothing of the ordered joy I love—it + is a fierce and slaying fire. I shall go back—” + </p> + <p> + The shadow of her far dreaming flitted over, softened the angry brilliancy + of her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, you two!” The shadow of dream fled. “Those that I am about to + slay are evil—evil are they all, men and women. Long have they been + so—yea, for cycles of suns. And their children grow like them—or + if they be gentle and with love for peace they are slain or die of + heartbreak. All this my mother told me long ago. So no more children shall + be born from them either to suffer or to grow evil.” + </p> + <p> + Again she paused, nor did we interrupt her musing. + </p> + <p> + “My father ruled Ruszark,” she said at last. “Rustum he was named, of the + seed of Rustum the Hero even as was my mother. They were gentle and good, + and it was their ancestors who built Ruszark when, fleeing from the might + of Iskander, they were sealed in the hidden valley by the falling + mountain. + </p> + <p> + “Then there sprang from one of the families of the nobles—Cherkis. + Evil, evil was he, and as he grew he lusted for rule. On a night of terror + he fell upon those who loved my father and slew; and barely had my father + time to fly from the city with my mother, still but a bride, and a handful + of those loyal to him. + </p> + <p> + “They found by chance the way to this place, hiding in the cleft which is + its portal. They came, and they were taken by—Those who are now my + people. Then my mother, who was very beautiful, was lifted before him who + rules here and she found favor in his sight and he had built for her this + house, which now is mine. + </p> + <p> + “And in time I was born—but not in this house. Nay—in a secret + place of light where, too, are born my people.” + </p> + <p> + She was silent. I shot a glance at Drake. The secret place of light—was + it not that vast vault of mystery, of dancing orbs and flames transmuted + into music into which we had peered and for which sacrilege, I had + thought, had been thrust from the City? And did in this lie the + explanation of her strangeness? Had she there sucked in with her mother's + milk the enigmatic life of the Metal Hordes, been transformed into half + human changeling, become true kin to them? What else could explain— + </p> + <p> + “My mother showed me Ruszark,” her voice, taking up once more her tale, + checked my thoughts. “Once when I was little she and my father bore me + through the forest and through the hidden way. I looked upon Ruszark—a + great city it is and populous, and a caldron of cruelty and of evil. + </p> + <p> + “Not like me were my father and mother. They longed for their kind and + sought ever for means to regain their place among them. There came a time + when my father, driven by his longing, ventured forth to Ruszark, seeking + friends to help him regain that place—for these who obey me obeyed + not him as they obey me; nor would he have marched them—as I shall—upon + Ruszark if they had obeyed him. + </p> + <p> + “Cherkis caught him. And Cherkis waited, knowing well that my mother would + follow. For Cherkis knew not where to seek her, nor where they had lain + hid, for between his city and here the mountains are great, unscalable, + and the way through them is cunningly hidden; by chance alone did my + mother's mother and those who fled with her discover it: And though they + tortured him, my father would not tell. And after a while forthwith those + who still remained of hers stole out with my mother to find him. They left + me here with Yuruk. And Cherkis caught my mother.” + </p> + <p> + The proud breasts heaved, the eyes shot forth visible flames. + </p> + <p> + “My father was flayed alive and crucified,” she said. “His skin they + nailed to the City's gates. And when Cherkis had had his will with my + mother he threw her to his soldiers for their sport. + </p> + <p> + “All of those who went with them he tortured and slew—and he and his + laughed at their torment. But one there was who escaped and told me—me + who was little more than a budding maid. He called on me to bring + vengeance—and he died. A year passed—and I am not like my + mother and my father—and I forgot—dwelling here in the great + tranquillities, barred from and having no thought for men and their way. + </p> + <p> + “AIE, AIE!” she cried; “woe to me that I could forget! But now I shall + take my vengeance—I, Norhala, will stamp them flat—Cherkis and + his city of Ruszark and everything it holds! I, Norhala, and my servants + shall stamp them into the rock of their valley so that none shall know + that they have been! And would that I could meet their gods with all their + powers that I might break them, too, and stamp them into the rock under + the feet of my servants!” + </p> + <p> + She threw out white arms. + </p> + <p> + Why had Yuruk lied to me? I wondered as I watched her. The Disk had not + slain her mother. Of course! He had lied to play upon our terrors; had + lied to frighten us away. + </p> + <p> + The wailings were rising in a sustained crescendo. One of the slaying + stars slipped over the chamber floor, folded its points and glided out the + door. + </p> + <p> + “Come!” commanded Norhala, and led the way. The second star closed, + followed us. We stepped over the threshold. + </p> + <p> + For one astounded, breathless moment we paused. In front of us reared a + monster—a colossal, headless Sphinx. Like forelegs and paws, a ridge + of pointed cubes, and globes thrust against each side of the canyon walls. + Between them for two hundred feet on high stretched the breast. + </p> + <p> + And this was a shifting, weaving mass of the Metal Things; they formed + into gigantic cuirasses, giant bucklers, corselets of living mail. From + them as they moved—nay, from all the monster—came the + wailings. Like a headless Sphinx it crouched—and as we stood it + surged forward as though it sprang a step to greet us. + </p> + <p> + “HAI!” shouted Norhala, battle buglings ringing through the golden voice. + “HAI! my companies!” + </p> + <p> + Out from the summit of the breast shot a tremendous trunk of cubes and + spinning globes. And like a trunk it nuzzled us, caught us up, swept us to + the crest. An instant I tottered dizzily; was held; stood beside Norhala + upon a little, level twinkling eyed platform; upon her other side swayed + Drake. + </p> + <p> + Now through the monster I felt a throbbing, an eager and impatient pulse. + I turned my head. Still like some huge and grotesque beast the back of the + clustered Things ran for half a mile at least behind, tapering to a dragon + tail that coiled and twisted another full mile toward the Pit. And from + this back uprose and fell immense spiked and fan-shaped ruffs, thickets of + spikes, whipping knouts of bristling tentacles, fanged crests. They thrust + and waved, whipped and fell constantly; and constantly the great tail + lashed and snapped, fantastic, long and living. + </p> + <p> + “HAI!” shouted Norhala once more. From her lifted throat came again the + golden chanting—but now a relentless, ruthless song of slaughter. + </p> + <p> + Up reared the monstrous bulk. Into it ran the dragon tail. Into it poured + the fanged and bristling back. + </p> + <p> + Up, up we were thrust—three hundred feet, four hundred, five + hundred. Over the blue globe of Norhala's house bent a gigantic leg. + Spiderlike out from each side of the monster thrust half a score of + others. + </p> + <p> + Overhead the dawn began to break. Through it with ever increasing speed we + moved, straight to the line of the cliffs behind which lay the city of the + armored men—and Ruth and Ventnor. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV. RUSZARK + </h2> + <p> + Smoothly moved the colossal shape; on it we rode as easily as though + cradled. It did not glide—it strode. + </p> + <p> + The columned legs raised themselves, bending from a thousand joints. The + pedestals of the feet, huge and massive as foundations for sixteen-inch + guns, fell with machinelike precision, stamping gigantically. + </p> + <p> + Under their tread the trees of the forest snapped, were crushed like reeds + beneath the pads of a mastodon. From far below came the sound of their + crashing. The thick forest checked the progress of the Shape less than + tall grass would that of a man. + </p> + <p> + Behind us our trail was marked by deep, black pits in the forest's green, + clean cut and great as the Mark upon the poppied valley. They were the + footprints of the Thing that carried us. + </p> + <p> + The wind streamed and whistled. A flock of the willow warblers arose, + sworled about us with manifold beating of little frightened wings. + Norhala's face softened, her eyes smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Go—foolish little ones,” she cried, and waved her arms. They flew + away, scolding. + </p> + <p> + A lammergeier swooped down on wide funereal wings; it peered at us; darted + away toward the cliffs. + </p> + <p> + “There will be no carrion there for you, black eater of the dead, when I + am through,” I heard Norhala whisper, eyes again somber. + </p> + <p> + Steadily grew the dawn light; from Norhala's lips came again the chanting. + And now that paean, the reckless pulse of the monster we rode, began to + creep through my own veins. Into Drake's too, I knew, for his head was + held high and his eyes were clear and bright as hers who sang. + </p> + <p> + The jubilant pulse streamed through the hands that held us, throbbed + through us. The pulse of the Thing—sang! + </p> + <p> + Closer and closer grew the cliffs. Down and crashing down fell the trees, + the noise of their fall accompanying the battle chant of the Valkyr beside + me like wild harp chords of storm-lashed surf. Up to the precipices the + forest rolled, unbroken. Now the cliffs loomed overhead. The dawn had + passed. It was full day. + </p> + <p> + Cutting up through the towering granite scarps was a rift. In it the black + shadows clustered thickly. Straight toward that cleft we sped. As we drew + near, the crest of the Shape began swiftly to lower. Down we sank and down—a + hundred feet, two hundred; now we were two score yards above the tree + tops. + </p> + <p> + Out shot a neck, a tremendous serpent body. Crested it was with pyramids; + crested with them, too, was its immense head. Thickly the head bristled + with them, poised motionless upon spinning globes as huge as they. For + hundreds of feet that incredible neck stretched ahead of us and for twice + as far behind a monstrous, lizard-shaped body writhed. + </p> + <p> + We rode now upon a serpent, a glittering blue metal dragon, spiked and + knobbed and scaled. It was the weird steed of Norhala flattening, + thrusting out to pierce the rift. + </p> + <p> + And still as when it had reared on high beat through it the wild, + triumphant, questing pulse. Still rang out Norhala's chanting. + </p> + <p> + The trees parted and fell upon each side of us as though we were some + monster of the sea and they the waves we cleft. + </p> + <p> + The rift enclosed us. Lower we dropped; were not more than fifty feet + above its floor. The Thing upon which we rode was a torrent roaring + through it. + </p> + <p> + A deeper blackness enclosed us—a tunneling. + </p> + <p> + Through that we flowed. Out of it we darted into a widening filled with + wan light drifting down through a pinnacle fanged mouth miles on high. + Again the cleft shrunk. A thousand feet ahead was a crack, a narrowing of + the cleft so small that hardly could a man pass through it. + </p> + <p> + Abruptly the metal dragon halted. + </p> + <p> + Norhala's chanting changed; became again the arrogant clarioning. And + close below us the huge neck split. It came to me then that it was as + though Norhala were the overspirit of this chimera—as though it + caught and understood and obeyed each quick thought of hers. + </p> + <p> + As though, indeed, she was a PART of it—as IT was in reality a part + of that infinitely greater Thing, crouching there in its lair of the Pit—the + Metal Monster that had lent this living part of itself to her for a steed, + a champion. Little time had I to consider such matters. + </p> + <p> + Up thrust the Shape before us. Into it raced and spun Things angled, + Things curved and Things squared. It gathered itself into a Titanic pillar + out of which, instantly, thrust scores of arms. + </p> + <p> + Over them great globes raced; after these flew other scores of huge + pyramids, none less than ten feet in height, the mass of them twenty and + thirty. The manifold arms grew rigid. Quiet for a moment, a Titanic metal + Briareous, it stood. + </p> + <p> + Then at the tips of the arms the globes began to spin—faster, + faster. Upon them I saw the hosts of the pyramids open—as one into a + host of stars. The cleft leaped out in a flood of violet light. + </p> + <p> + Now for another instant the stars which had been motionless, poised upon + the whirling spheres, joined in their mad spinning. Cyclopean pin wheels + they turned; again as one they ceased. More brilliant now was their light, + dazzling; as though in their whirling they had gathered greater force. + </p> + <p> + Under me I felt the split Thing quiver with eagerness. + </p> + <p> + From the stars came a hurricane of lightning! A cataract of electric flame + poured into the crack, splashed and guttered down the granite walls. We + were blinded by it; were deafened with thunders. + </p> + <p> + The face of the precipice smoked and split; was whirled away in clouds of + dust. + </p> + <p> + The crack widened—widened as a gulley in a sand bank does when a + swift stream rushes through it. Lightnings these were—and more than + lightnings; lightnings keyed up to an invincible annihilating weapon that + could rend and split and crumble to atoms the living granite. + </p> + <p> + Steadily the cleft expanded. As its walls melted away the Blasting Thing + advanced, spurting into it the flaming torrents. Behind it we crept. The + dust of the shattered rocks swirled up toward us like angry ghosts—before + they reached us they were blown away as though by strong winds streaming + from beneath us. + </p> + <p> + On we went, blinded, deafened. Interminably, it seemed, poured forth the + hurricane of blue fire; interminably the thunder bellowed. + </p> + <p> + There came a louder clamor—volcanic, chaotic, dulling the thunders. + The sides of the cleft quivered, bent outward. They split; crashed down. + Bright daylight poured in upon us, a flood of light toward which the + billows of dust rushed as though seeking escape; out it poured like the + smoke of ten thousand cannon. + </p> + <p> + And the Blasting Thing shook—as though with laughter! + </p> + <p> + The stars closed. Back into the Shape ran globe and pyramid. It slid + toward us—joined the body from which it had broken away. Through all + the mass ran a wave of jubilation, a pulse of mirth—a colossal, + metallic—SILENT—roar of laughter. + </p> + <p> + We glided forward—out of the cleft. I felt a shifting movement. + </p> + <p> + Up and up we were thrust. Dazed I looked behind me. In the face of a sky + climbing wall of rock, smoked a wide chasm. Out of it the billowing clouds + of dust still streamed, pursuing, threatening us. The whole granite + barrier seemed to quiver with agony. Higher we rose and higher. + </p> + <p> + “Look,” whispered Drake, and whirled me around. + </p> + <p> + Less than five miles away was Ruszark, the City of Cherkis. And it was + like some ancient city come into life out of long dead centuries. A page + restored from once conquering Persia's crumbled book. A city of the + Chosroes transported by Jinns into our own time. + </p> + <p> + Built around and upon a low mount, it stood within a valley but little + larger than the Pit. The plain was level, as though once it had been the + floor of some primeval lake; the hill of the City was its only elevation. + </p> + <p> + Beyond, I caught the glinting of a narrow stream, meandering. The valley + was ringed with precipitous cliffs falling sheer to its floor. + </p> + <p> + Slowly we advanced. + </p> + <p> + The city was almost square, guarded by double walls of hewn stone. The + first raised itself a hundred feet on high, turreted and parapeted and + pierced with gates. Perhaps a quarter of a mile behind it the second + fortification thrust up. + </p> + <p> + The city itself I estimated covered about ten square miles. It ran upward + in broad terraces. It was very fair, decked with blossoming gardens and + green groves. Among the clustering granite houses, red and yellow roofed, + thrust skyward tall spires and towers. Upon the mount's top was a broad, + flat plaza on which were great buildings, marble white and golden roofed; + temples I thought, or palaces, or both. + </p> + <p> + Running to the city out of the grain fields and steads that surrounded it, + were scores of little figures, rat-like. Here and there among them I + glimpsed horsemen, arms and armor glittering. All were racing to the gates + and the shelter of the battlements. + </p> + <p> + Nearer we drew. From the walls came now a faint sound of gongs, of drums, + of shrill, flutelike pipings. Upon them I could see hosts gathering; hosts + of swarming little figures whose bodies glistened, from above whom came + gleamings—the light striking upon their helms, their spear and + javelin tips. + </p> + <p> + “Ruszark!” breathed Norhala, eyes wide, red lips cruelly smiling. “Lo—I + am before your gates. Lo—I am here—and was there ever joy like + this!” + </p> + <p> + The constellations in her eyes blazed. Beautiful, beautiful was Norhala—as + Isis punishing Typhon for the murder of Osiris; as avenging Diana; shining + from her something of the spirit of all wrathful Goddesses. + </p> + <p> + The flaming hair whirled and snapped. From all her sweet body came + white-hot furious force, a withering perfume of destruction. She pressed + against me, and I trembled at the contact. + </p> + <p> + Lawless, wild imaginings ran through me. Life, human life, dwindled. The + City seemed but a thing of toys. + </p> + <p> + On—let us crush it! On—on! + </p> + <p> + Again the monster shook beneath us. Faster we moved. Louder grew the + clangor of the drums, the gongs, the pipes. Nearer came the walls; and + ever more crowded with the swarming human ants that manned them. + </p> + <p> + We were close upon the heels of the last fleeing stragglers. The Thing + slackened in its stride; waited patiently until they were close to the + gates. Before they could reach them I heard the brazen clanging of their + valves. Those shut out beat frenziedly upon them; dragged themselves close + to the base of the battlements, cowered there or crept along them seeking + some hole in which to hide. + </p> + <p> + With a slow lowering of its height the Thing advanced. Now its form was + that of a spindle a full mile in length on whose bulging center we three + stood. + </p> + <p> + A hundred feet from the outer wall we halted. We looked down upon it not + more than fifty feet above its broad top. Hundreds of the soldiers were + crouching behind the parapets, companies of archers with great bows + poised, arrows at their cheeks, scores of leather jerkined men with stands + of javelins at their right hands, spearsmen and men with long, thonged + slings. + </p> + <p> + Set at intervals were squat, powerful engines of wood and metal beside + which were heaps of huge, rounded boulders. Catapults I knew them to be + and around each swarmed a knot of soldiers, fixing the great stones in + place, drawing back the thick ropes that, loosened, would hurl forth the + projectiles. From each side came other men, dragging more of these + balisters; assembling a battery against the prodigious, gleaming monster + that menaced their city. + </p> + <p> + Between outer wall and inner battlements galloped squadrons of mounted + men. Upon this inner wall the soldiers clustered as thickly as on the + outer, preparing as actively for its defense. + </p> + <p> + The city seethed. Up from it arose a humming, a buzzing, as of some + immense angry hive. + </p> + <p> + Involuntarily I visualized the spectacle we must present to those who + looked upon us—this huge incredible Shape of metal alive with + quicksilver shifting. This—as it must have seemed to them—hellish + mechanism of war captained by a sorceress and two familiars in form of + men. There came to me dreadful visions of such a monster looking down upon + the peace-reared battlements of New York—the panic rush of thousands + away from it. + </p> + <p> + There was a blaring of trumpets. Up on the parapet leaped a man clad all + in gleaming red armor. From head to feet the close linked scales covered + him. Within a hood shaped somewhat like the tight-fitting head coverings + of the Crusaders a pallid, cruel face looked out upon us; in the fierce + black eyes was no trace of fear. + </p> + <p> + Evil as Norhala had said these people of Ruszark were, wicked and cruel—they + were no cowards, no! + </p> + <p> + The red armored man threw up a hand. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you?” he shouted. “Who are you three, you three who come driving + down upon Ruszark through the rocks? We have no quarrel with you?” + </p> + <p> + “I seek a man and a maid,” cried Norhala. “A maid and a sick man your + thieves took from me. Bring him forth!” + </p> + <p> + “Seek elsewhere for them then,” he answered. “They are not here. Turn now + and seek elsewhere. Go quickly, lest I loose our might upon you and you go + never.” + </p> + <p> + Mockingly rang her laughter—and under its lash the black eyes grew + fiercer, the cruelty on the white face darkened. + </p> + <p> + “Little man whose words are so big! Fly who thunders! What are you called, + little man?” + </p> + <p> + Her raillery bit deep—but its menace passed unheeded in the rage it + called forth. + </p> + <p> + “I am Kulun,” shouted the man in scarlet armor. “Kulun, the son of Cherkis + the Mighty, and captain of his hosts. Kulun—who will cast your skin + under my mares in stall for them to trample and thrust your red flayed + body upon a pole in the grain fields to frighten away the crows! Does that + answer you?” + </p> + <p> + Her laughter ceased; her eyes dwelt upon him—filled with an infernal + joy. + </p> + <p> + “The son of Cherkis!” I heard her murmur. “He has a son—” + </p> + <p> + There was a sneer on the cruel face; clearly he thought her awed. Quick + was his disillusionment. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, Kulun,” she cried. “I am Norhala—daughter of another + Norhala and of Rustum, whom Cherkis tortured and slew. Now go, you lying + spawn of unclean toads—go and tell your father that I, Norhala, am + at his gates. And bring back with you the maid and the man. Go, I say!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV. CHERKIS + </h2> + <p> + There was stark amazement on Kulun's face; and fear now enough. He dropped + from the parapet among his men. There came one loud trumpet blast. + </p> + <p> + Out from the battlements poured a storm of arrows, a cloud of javelins. + The squat catapults leaped forward. From them came a hail of boulders. + Before that onrushing tempest of death I flinched. + </p> + <p> + I heard Norhala's golden laughter and before they could reach us arrow and + javelin and boulder were checked as though myriads of hands reached out + from the Thing under us and caught them. Down they dropped. + </p> + <p> + Forth from the great spindle shot a gigantic arm, hammer tipped with + cubes. It struck the wall close to where the scarlet armored Kulun had + vanished. + </p> + <p> + Under its blow the stones crumbled. With the fragments fell the soldiers; + were buried beneath them. + </p> + <p> + A hundred feet in width a breach gaped in the battlements. Out shot the + arm again; hooked its hammer tip over the parapet, tore away a stretch of + the breastwork as though it had been cardboard. Beside the breach an + expanse of the broad flat top lay open like a wide platform. + </p> + <p> + The arm withdrew, and out from the whole length of the spindle thrust + other arms, hammer tipped, held high aloft, menacing. + </p> + <p> + From all the length of the wall arose panic outcry. Abruptly the storm of + arrows ended; the catapults were still. Again the trumpets sounded; the + crying ceased. Down fell a silence, terrified, stifling. + </p> + <p> + Kulun stepped forth again, both hands held high. Gone was his arrogance. + </p> + <p> + “A parley,” he shouted. “A parley, Norhala. If we give you the maid and + man, will you go?” + </p> + <p> + “Go get them,” she answered. “And take with you this my command to Cherkis—that + HE return with the two!” + </p> + <p> + For an instant Kulun hesitated. Up thrust the dreadful arms, poised + themselves to strike. + </p> + <p> + “It shall be so,” he shouted. “I carry your command.” + </p> + <p> + He leaped back, his red mail flashed toward a turret that held, I + supposed, a stairway. He was lost to sight. In silence we waited. + </p> + <p> + On the further side of the city I glimpsed movement. Little troops of + mounted men, pony drawn wains, knots of running figures were fleeing from + the city through the opposite gates. + </p> + <p> + Norhala saw them too. With that incomprehensible, instant obedience to her + unspoken thought a mass of the Metal Things separated from us; whirled up + into a dozen of those obelisked forms I had seen march from the cat eyes + of the City of the Pit. + </p> + <p> + In but a breath, it seemed, their columns were far off, herding back the + fugitives. + </p> + <p> + They did not touch them, did not offer to harm—only, grotesquely, + like dogs heading off and corraling frightened sheep, they circled and + darted. Rushing back came those they herded. + </p> + <p> + From the watching terraces and walls arose shrill cries of terror, a + wailing. Far away the obelisks met, pirouetted, melted into one thick + column. Towering, motionless as we, it stood, guarding the further gates. + </p> + <p> + There was a stir upon the wall, a flashing of spears, of drawn blades. Two + litters closed with curtainings, surrounded by triple rows of swordsmen + fully armored, carrying small shields and led by Kulun were being borne to + the torn battlement. + </p> + <p> + Their bearers stopped well within the platform and gently lowered their + burdens. The leader of those around the second litter drew aside its + covering, spoke. + </p> + <p> + Out stepped Ruth and after her—Ventnor! + </p> + <p> + “Martin!” I could not keep back the cry; heard mingled with it Drake's own + cry to Ruth. Ventnor raised his hand in greeting; I thought he smiled. + </p> + <p> + The cubes on which we stood shot forward; stopped within fifty feet of + them. Instantly the guard of swordsmen raised their blades, held them over + the pair as though waiting the signal to strike. + </p> + <p> + And now I saw that Ruth was not clad as she had been when we had left her. + She stood in scanty kirtle that came scarcely to her knees, her shoulders + were bare, her curly brown hair unbound and tangled. Her face was set with + wrath hardly less than that which beat from Norhala. On Ventnor's forehead + was a blood red scar, a line that ran from temple to temple like a brand. + </p> + <p> + The curtains of the first litter quivered; behind them someone spoke. That + in which Ruth and Ventnor had ridden was drawn swiftly away. The knot of + swordsmen drew back. + </p> + <p> + Into their places sprang and knelt a dozen archers. They ringed in the + two, bows drawn taut, arrows in place and pointing straight to their + hearts. + </p> + <p> + Out of the litter rolled a giant of a man. Seven feet he must have been in + height; over the huge shoulders, the barreled chest and the bloated + abdomen hung a purple cloak glittering with gems; through the thick and + grizzled hair passed a flashing circlet of jewels. + </p> + <p> + The scarlet armored Kulun beside him, swordsmen guarding them, he walked + to the verge of the torn gap in the wall. He peered down it, glancing + imperturbably at the upraised, hammer-banded arms still threatening; + examined again the breach. Then still with Kulun he strode over to the + very edge of the broken battlement and stood, head thrust a little + forward, studying us in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Cherkis!” whispered Norhala—the whisper was a hymn to Nemesis. I + felt her body quiver from head to foot. + </p> + <p> + A wave of hatred, a hot desire to kill, passed through me as I scanned the + face staring at us. It was a great gross mask of evil, of cold cruelty and + callous lusts. Unwinking, icily malignant, black slits of eyes glared at + us between pouches that held them half closed. Heavy jowls hung pendulous, + dragging down the corners of the thick lipped, brutal mouth into a deep + graven, unchanging sneer. + </p> + <p> + As he gazed at Norhala a flicker of lust shot like a licking tongue + through his eyes. + </p> + <p> + Yet from him pulsed power; sinister, instinct with evil, concentrate with + cruelty—but power indomitable. Such was Cherkis, descendant perhaps + of that Xerxes the Conqueror who three millenniums gone ruled most of the + known world. + </p> + <p> + It was Norhala who broke the silence. + </p> + <p> + “Tcherak! Greeting—Cherkis!” There was merciless mirth in the + buglings of her voice. “Lo, I did but knock so gently at your gates and + you hastened to welcome me. Greetings—gross swine, spittle of the + toads, fat slug beneath my sandals.” + </p> + <p> + He passed the insults by, unmoved—although I heard a murmuring go up + from those near and Kulun's hard eyes blazed. + </p> + <p> + “We will bargain, Norhala,” he answered calmly; the voice was deep, filled + with sinister strength. + </p> + <p> + “Bargain?” she laughed. “What have you with which to bargain, Cherkis? + Does the rat bargain with the tigress? And you, toad, have nothing.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I have these,” he waved a hand toward Ruth and her brother. “Me you may + slay—and mayhap many of mine. But before you can move my archers + will feather their hearts.” + </p> + <p> + She considered him, no longer mocking. + </p> + <p> + “Two of mine you slew long since, Cherkis,” she said, slowly. “Therefore + it is I am here.” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” he nodded heavily. “Yet now that is neither here nor there, + Norhala. It was long since, and I have learned much during the years. I + would have killed you too, Norhala, could I have found you. But now I + would not do as then—quite differently would I do, Norhala; for I + have learned much. I am sorry that those that you loved died as they did. + I am in truth sorry!” + </p> + <p> + There was a curious lurking sardonicism in the words, an undertone of + mockery. Was what he really meant that in those years he had learned to + inflict greater agonies, more exquisite tortures? If so, Norhala + apparently did not sense that interpretation. Indeed, she seemed to be + interested, her wrath abating. + </p> + <p> + “No,” the hoarse voice rumbled dispassionately. “None of that is important—now. + YOU would have this man and girl. I hold them. They die if you stir a + hand's breadth toward me. If they die, I prevail against you—for I + have cheated you of what you desire. I win, Norhala, even though you slay + me. That is all that is now important.” + </p> + <p> + There was doubt upon Norhala's face and I caught a quick gleam of + contemptuous triumph glint through the depths of the evil eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Empty will be your victory over me, Norhala,” he said; then waited. + </p> + <p> + “What is your bargain?” she spoke hesitatingly; with a sinking of my heart + I heard the doubt tremble in her throat. + </p> + <p> + “If you will go without further knocking upon my gates”—there was a + satiric grimness in the phrase—“go when you have been given them, + and pledge yourself never to return—you shall have them. If you will + not, then they die.” + </p> + <p> + “But what security, what hostages, do you ask?” Her eyes were troubled. “I + cannot swear by your gods, Cherkis, for they are not my gods—in + truth I, Norhala, have no gods. Why should I not say yes and take the two, + then fall upon you and destroy—as you would do in my place, old + wolf?” + </p> + <p> + “Norhala,” he answered, “I ask nothing but your word. Do I not know those + who bore you and the line from which they sprung? Was not always the word + they gave kept till death—unbroken, inviolable? No need for vows to + gods between you and me. Your word is holier than they—O glorious + daughter of kings, princess royal!” + </p> + <p> + The great voice was harshly caressing; not obsequious, but as though he + gave her as an equal her rightful honor. Her face softened; she considered + him from eyes far less hostile. + </p> + <p> + A wholesome respect for this gross tyrant's mentality came to me; it did + not temper, it heightened, the hatred I felt for him. But now I recognized + the subtlety of his attack; realized that unerringly he had taken the only + means by which he could have gained a hearing; have temporized. Could he + win her with his guile? + </p> + <p> + “Is it not true?” There was a leonine purring in the question. + </p> + <p> + “It IS true!” she answered proudly. “Though why YOU should dwell upon + this, Cherkis, whose word is steadfast as the running stream and whose + promises are as lasting as its bubbles—why YOU should dwell on this + I do not know.” + </p> + <p> + “I have changed greatly, Princess, in the years since my great wickedness; + I have learned much. He who speaks to you now is not he you were taught—and + taught justly then—to hate.” + </p> + <p> + “You may speak truth! Certainly you are not as I have pictured you.” It + was as though she were more than half convinced. “In this at least you do + speak truth—that IF I promise I will go and molest you no more.” + </p> + <p> + “Why go at all, Princess?” Quietly he asked the amazing question—then + drew himself to his full height, threw wide his arms. + </p> + <p> + “Princess?” the great voice rumbled forth. “Nay—Queen! Why leave us + again—Norhala the Queen? Are we not of your people? Am I not of your + kin? Join your power with ours. What that war engine you ride may be, how + built, I know not. But this I do know—that with our strengths joined + we two can go forth from where I have dwelt so long, go forth into the + forgotten world, eat its cities and rule. + </p> + <p> + “You shall teach our people to make these engines, Norhala, and we will + make many of them. Queen Norhala—you shall wed my son Kulun, he who + stands beside me. And while I live you shall rule with me, rule equally. + And when I die you and Kulun shall rule. + </p> + <p> + “Thus shall our two royal lines be made one, the old feud wiped out, the + long score be settled. Queen—wherever it is you dwell it comes to me + that you have few men. Queen—you need men, many men and strong to + follow you, men to gather the harvests of your power, men to bring to you + the fruit of your smallest wish—young men and vigorous to amuse you. + </p> + <p> + “Let the past be forgotten—I too have wrongs to forget, O Queen. + Come to us, Great One, with your power and your beauty. Teach us. Lead us. + Return, and throned above your people rule the world!” + </p> + <p> + He ceased. Over the battlements, over the city, dropped a vast expectant + silence—as though the city knew its fate was hanging upon the + balance. + </p> + <p> + “No! No!” It was Ruth crying. “Do not trust him, Norhala! It's a trap! He + shamed me—he tortured—” + </p> + <p> + Cherkis half turned; before he swung about I saw a hell shadow darken his + face. Ventnor's hand thrust out, covered Ruth's mouth, choking her crying. + </p> + <p> + “Your son”—Norhala spoke swiftly; and back flashed the cruel face of + Cherkis, devouring her with his eyes. “Your son—and Queenship here—and + Empire of the World.” Her voice was rapt, thrilled. “All this you offer? + Me—Norhala?” + </p> + <p> + “This and more!” The huge bulk of his body quivered with eagerness. “If it + be your wish, O Queen, I, Cherkis, will step down from the throne for you + and sit beneath your right hand, eager to do your bidding.” + </p> + <p> + A moment she studied him. + </p> + <p> + “Norhala,” I whispered, “do not do this thing. He thinks to gain your + secrets.” + </p> + <p> + “Let my bridegroom stand forth that I may look upon him,” called Norhala. + </p> + <p> + Visibly Cherkis relaxed, as though a strain had been withdrawn. Between + him and his crimson-clad son flashed a glance; it was as though a + triumphant devil sped from them into each other's eyes. + </p> + <p> + I saw Ruth shrink into Ventnor's arms. Up from the wall rose a jubilant + shouting, was caught by the inner battlements, passed on to the crowded + terraces. + </p> + <p> + “Take Kulun,” it was Drake, pistol drawn and whispering across to me. + “I'll handle Cherkis. And shoot straight.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI. THE VENGEANCE OF NORHALA + </h2> + <p> + Norhala's hand that had gone from my wrist dropped down again; the other + fell upon Drake's. + </p> + <p> + Kulun loosed his hood, let it fall about his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + He stepped forward, held out his arms to Norhala. + </p> + <p> + “A strong man!” she cried approvingly. “Hail—my bridegroom! But stay—stand + back a moment. Stand beside that man for whom I came to Ruszark. I would + see you together!” + </p> + <p> + Kulun's face darkened. But Cherkis smiled with evil understanding, + shrugged his shoulders and whispered to him. Sullenly Kulun stepped back. + The ring of the archers lowered their bows; they leaped to their feet and + stood aside to let him pass. + </p> + <p> + Quick as a serpent's tongue a pyramid tipped tentacle flicked out beneath + us. It darted through the broken circle of the bowmen. + </p> + <p> + It LICKED up Ruth and Ventnor and—Kulun! + </p> + <p> + Swiftly as it had swept forth it returned, coiled and dropped those two I + loved at Norhala's feet. + </p> + <p> + It flashed back on high with the scarlet length of Cherkis's son sprawled + along its angled end. + </p> + <p> + The great body of Cherkis seemed to wither. + </p> + <p> + Up from all the wall went a tempestuous sigh of horror. + </p> + <p> + Out rang the merciless chimes of Norhala's laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Tchai!” she cried. “Tchai! Fat fool there. Tchai—you Cherkis! Toad + whose wits have sickened with your years! + </p> + <p> + “Did you think to catch me, Norhala, in your filthy web? Princess! Queen! + Empress of Earth! Ho—old fox I have outplayed and beaten, what now + have you to trade with Norhala?” + </p> + <p> + Mouth sagging open, eyes glaring, the tyrant slowly raised his arms—a + suppliant. + </p> + <p> + “You would have back the bridegroom you gave me?” she laughed. “Take him, + then.” + </p> + <p> + Down swept the metal arm that held Kulun. The arm dropped Cherkis's son at + Cherkis's feet; and as though Kulun had been a grape—it crushed him! + </p> + <p> + Before those who had seen could stir from their stupor the tentacle + hovered over Cherkis, glaring down at the horror that had been his son. + </p> + <p> + It did not strike him—it drew him up to it as a magnet draws a pin. + </p> + <p> + And as the pin swings from the magnet when held suspended by the head, so + swung the great body of Cherkis from the under side of the pyramid that + held him. Hanging so he was carried toward us, came to a stop not ten feet + from us— + </p> + <p> + Weird, weird beyond all telling was that scene—and would I had the + power to make you who read see it as we did. + </p> + <p> + The animate, living Shape of metal on which we stood, with its forest of + hammer-handed arms raised menacingly along its mile of spindled length; + the great walls glistening with the armored hosts; the terraces of that + fair and ancient city, their gardens and green groves and clustering red + and yellow-roofed houses and temples and palaces; the swinging gross body + of Cherkis in the clutch of the unseen grip of the tentacle, his grizzled + hair touching the side of the pyramid that held him, his arms half + outstretched, the gemmed cloak flapping like the wings of a jeweled bat, + his white, malignant face in which the evil eyes were burning slits + flaming hell's own blackest hatred; and beyond the city, from which pulsed + almost visibly a vast and hopeless horror, the watching column—and + over all this the palely radiant white sky under whose light the + encircling cliffs were tremendous stony palettes splashed with a hundred + pigments. + </p> + <p> + Norhala's laughter had ceased. Somberly she looked upon Cherkis, into the + devil fires of his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Cherkis!” she half whispered. “Now comes the end for you—and for + all that is yours! But until the end's end you shall see.” + </p> + <p> + The hanging body was thrust forward; was thrust up; was brought down upon + its feet on the upper plane of the prostrate pyramid tipping the metal arm + that held him. For an instant he struggled to escape; I think he meant to + hurl himself down upon Norhala, to kill her before he himself was slain. + </p> + <p> + If so, after one frenzied effort he realized the futility, for with a + certain dignity he drew himself upright, turned his eyes toward the city. + </p> + <p> + Over that city a dreadful silence hung. It was as though it cowered, hid + its face, was afraid to breathe. + </p> + <p> + “The end!” murmured Norhala. + </p> + <p> + There was a quick trembling through the Metal Thing. Down swung its forest + of sledges. Beneath the blow down fell the smitten walls, shattered, + crumbling, and with it glittering like shining flies in a dust storm fell + the armored men. + </p> + <p> + Through that mile-wide breach and up to the inner barrier I glimpsed + confusion chaotic. And again I say it—they were no cowards, those + men of Cherkis. From the inner battlements flew clouds of arrows, of huge + stones—as uselessly as before. + </p> + <p> + Then out from the opened gates poured regiments of horsemen, brandishing + javelins and great maces, and shouting fiercely as they drove down upon + each end of the Metal Shape. Under cover of their attack I saw cloaked + riders spurring their ponies across the plain to shelter of the cliff + walls, to the chance of hiding places within them. Women and men of the + rich, the powerful, flying for safety; after them ran and scattered + through the fields of grain a multitude on foot. + </p> + <p> + The ends of the spindle drew back before the horsemen's charge, broadening + as they went—like the heads of monstrous cobras withdrawing into + their hoods. Abruptly, with a lightning velocity, these broadenings + expanded into immense lunettes, two tremendous curving and crablike claws. + Their tips flung themselves past the racing troops; then like gigantic + pincers began to contract. + </p> + <p> + Of no avail now was it for the horsemen to halt dragging their mounts on + their haunches, or to turn to fly. The ends of the lunettes had met, the + pincer tips had closed. The mounted men were trapped within half-mile-wide + circles. And in upon man and horse their living walls marched. Within + those enclosures of the doomed began a frantic milling—I shut my + eyes— + </p> + <p> + There was a dreadful screaming of horses, a shrieking of men. Then + silence. + </p> + <p> + Shuddering, I looked. Where the mounted men had been was—nothing. + </p> + <p> + Nothing? There were two great circular spaces whose floors were + glistening, wetly red. Fragments of man or horse—there was none. + They had been crushed into—what was it Norhala had promised—had + been stamped into the rock beneath the feet of her—servants. + </p> + <p> + Sick, I looked away and stared at a Thing that writhed and undulated over + the plain; a prodigious serpentine Shape of cubes and spheres linked and + studded thick with the spikes of the pyramid. Through the fields, over the + plain its coils flashed. + </p> + <p> + Playfully it sped and twisted among the fugitives, crushing them, tossing + them aside broken, gliding over them. Some there were who hurled + themselves upon it in impotent despair, some who knelt before it, praying. + On rolled the metal convolutions, inexorable. + </p> + <p> + Within my vision's range there were no more fugitives. Around a corner of + the broken battlements raced the serpent Shape. Where it had writhed was + now no waving grain, no trees, no green thing. There was only smooth rock + upon which here and there red smears glistened wetly. + </p> + <p> + Afar there was a crying, in its wake a rumbling. It was the column, it + came to me, at work upon the further battlements. As though the sound had + been a signal the spindle trembled; up we were thrust another hundred feet + or more. Back dropped the host of brandished arms, threaded themselves + into the parent bulk. + </p> + <p> + Right and left of us the spindle split into scores of fissures. Between + these fissures the Metal Things that made up each now dissociate and + shapeless mass geysered; block and sphere and tetrahedron spike spun and + swirled. There was an instant of formlessness. + </p> + <p> + Then right and left of us stood scores of giant, grotesque warriors. Their + crests were fully fifty feet below our living platform. They stood upon + six immense, columnar stilts. These sextuple legs supported a hundred feet + above their bases a huge and globular body formed of clusters of the + spheres. Out from each of these bodies that were at one and the same time + trunks and heads, sprang half a score of colossal arms shaped like flails; + like spike-studded girders, Titanic battle maces, Cyclopean sledges. + </p> + <p> + From legs and trunks and arms the tiny eyes of the Metal Hordes flashed, + exulting. + </p> + <p> + There came from them, from the Thing we rode as well, a chorus of thin and + eager wailings and pulsed through all that battle-line, a jubilant + throbbing. + </p> + <p> + Then with a rhythmic, JOCUND stride they leaped upon the city. + </p> + <p> + Under the mallets of the smiting arms the inner battlements fell as under + the hammers of a thousand metal Thors. Over their fragments and the + armored men who fell with them strode the Things, grinding stone and man + together as we passed. + </p> + <p> + All of the terraced city except the side hidden by the mount lay open to + my gaze. In that brief moment of pause I saw crazed crowds battling in + narrow streets, trampling over mounds of the fallen, surging over + barricades of bodies, clawing and tearing at each other in their flight. + </p> + <p> + There was a wide, stepped street of gleaming white stone that climbed like + an immense stairway straight up the slope to that broad plaza at the top + where clustered the great temples and palaces—the Acropolis of the + city. Into it the streets of the terraces flowed, each pouring out upon it + a living torrent, tumultuous with tuliped, sparkling little waves, the gay + coverings and the arms and armor of Ruszark's desperate thousands seeking + safety at the shrines of their gods. + </p> + <p> + Here great carven arches arose; there slender, exquisite towers capped + with red gold—there was a street of colossal statues, another over + which dozens of graceful, fretted bridges threw their spans from feathery + billows of flowering trees; there were gardens gay with blossoms in which + fountains sparkled, green groves; thousands upon thousands of bright + multicolored pennants, banners, fluttered. + </p> + <p> + A fair, a lovely city was Cherkis's stronghold of Ruszark. + </p> + <p> + Its beauty filled the eyes; out from it streamed the fragrance of its + gardens—the voice of its agony was that of the souls in Dis. + </p> + <p> + The row of destroying shapes lengthened, each huge warrior of metal + drawing far apart from its mates. They flexed their manifold arms, shadow + boxed—grotesquely, dreadfully. + </p> + <p> + Down struck the flails, the sledges. Beneath the blows the buildings burst + like eggshells, their fragments burying the throngs fighting for escape in + the thoroughfares that threaded them. Over their ruins we moved. + </p> + <p> + Down and ever down crashed the awful sledges. And ever under them the city + crumbled. + </p> + <p> + There was a spider Shape that crawled up the wide stairway hammering into + the stone those who tried to flee before it. + </p> + <p> + Stride by stride the Destroying Things ate up the city. + </p> + <p> + I felt neither wrath nor pity. Through me beat a jubilant roaring pulse—as + though I were a shouting corpuscle of the rushing hurricane, as though I + were one of the hosts of smiting spirits of the bellowing typhoon. + </p> + <p> + Through this stole another thought—vague, unfamiliar, yet seemingly + of truth's own essence. Why, I wondered, had I never recognized this + before? Why had I never known that these green forms called trees were but + ugly, unsymmetrical excrescences? That these high projections of towers, + these buildings were deformities? + </p> + <p> + That these four-pronged, moving little shapes that screamed and ran were—hideous? + </p> + <p> + They must be wiped out! All this misshapen, jumbled, inharmonious ugliness + must be wiped out! It must be ground down to smooth unbroken planes, + harmonious curvings, shapeliness—harmonies of arc and line and + angle! + </p> + <p> + Something deep within me fought to speak—fought to tell me that this + thought was not human thought, not my thought—that it was the + reflected thought of the Metal Things! + </p> + <p> + It told me—and fiercely it struggled to make me realize what it was + that it told. Its insistence was borne upon little despairing, rhythmic + beatings—throbbings that were like the muffled sobbings of the drums + of grief. Louder, closer came the throbbing; clearer with it my perception + of the inhumanness of my thought. + </p> + <p> + The drum beat tapped at my humanity, became a dolorous knocking at my + heart. + </p> + <p> + It was the sobbing of Cherkis! + </p> + <p> + The gross face was shrunken, the cheeks sagging in folds of woe; cruelty + and wickedness were wiped from it; the evil in the eyes had been washed + out by tears. Eyes streaming, bull throat and barrel chest racked by his + sobbing, he watched the passing of his people and his city. + </p> + <p> + And relentlessly, coldly, Norhala watched him—as though loath to + lose the faintest shadow of his agony. + </p> + <p> + Now I saw we were close to the top of the mount. Packed between us and the + immense white structures that crowned it were thousands of the people. + They fell on their knees before us, prayed to us. They tore at each other, + striving to hide themselves from us in the mass that was themselves. They + beat against the barred doors of the sanctuaries; they climbed the + pillars; they swarmed over the golden roofs. + </p> + <p> + There was a moment of chaos—a chaos of which we were the heart. Then + temple and palace cracked, burst; were shattered; fell. I caught glimpses + of gleaming sculptures, glitterings of gold and of silver, flashing of + gems, shimmering of gorgeous draperies—under them a weltering of men + and women. + </p> + <p> + We closed down upon them—over them! + </p> + <p> + The dreadful sobbing ceased. I saw the head of Cherkis swing heavily upon + a shoulder; the eyes closed. + </p> + <p> + The Destroying Things touched. Their flailing arms coiled back, withdrew + into their bodies. They joined, forming for an instant a tremendous hollow + pillar far down in whose center we stood. They parted; shifted in shape? + rolled down the mount over the ruins like a widening wave—crushing + into the stone all over which they passed. + </p> + <p> + Afar away I saw the gleaming serpent still at play—still writhing + along, still obliterating the few score scattered fugitives that some way, + somehow, had slipped by the Destroying Things. + </p> + <p> + We halted. For one long moment Norhala looked upon the drooping body of + him upon whom she had let fall this mighty vengeance. + </p> + <p> + Then the metal arm that held Cherkis whirled. Thrown from it, the cloaked + form flew like a great blue bat. It fell upon the flattened mound that had + once been the proud crown of his city. A blue blot upon desolation the + broken body of Cherkis lay. + </p> + <p> + A black speck appeared high in the sky; grew fast—the lammergeier. + </p> + <p> + “I have left carrion for you—after all!” cried Norhala. + </p> + <p> + With an ebon swirling of wings the vulture dropped beside the blue heap—thrust + in it its beak. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII. “THE DRUMS OF DESTINY” + </h2> + <p> + Slowly we descended that mount of desolation; lingeringly, as though the + brooding eyes of Norhala were not yet sated with destruction. Of human + life, of green life, of life of any kind there was none. + </p> + <p> + Man and tree, woman and flower, babe and bud, palace, temple and home—Norhala + had stamped flat. She had crushed them within the rock—even as she + had promised. + </p> + <p> + The tremendous tragedy had absorbed my every faculty; I had had no time to + think of my companions; I had forgotten them. Now in the painful surges of + awakening realization, of full human understanding of that inhuman + annihilation, I turned to them for strength. Faintly I wondered again at + Ruth's scantiness of garb, her more than half nudity; dwelt curiously upon + the red brand across Ventnor's forehead. + </p> + <p> + In his eyes and in Drake's I saw reflected the horror I knew was in my + own. But in the eyes of Ruth was none of this—sternly, coldly + triumphant, indifferent to its piteousness as Norhala herself, she scanned + the waste that less than an hour since had been a place of living beauty. + </p> + <p> + I felt a shock of repulsion. After all, those who had been destroyed so + ruthlessly could not ALL have been wholly evil. Yet mother and blossoming + maid, youth and oldster, all the pageant of humanity within the great + walls were now but lines within the stone. According to their different + lights, it came to me, there had been in Ruszark no greater number of the + wicked than one could find in any great city of our own civilization. + </p> + <p> + From Norhala, of course, I looked for no perception of any of this. But + from Ruth— + </p> + <p> + My reaction grew; the pity long withheld racing through me linked with a + burning anger, a hatred for this woman who had been the directing soul of + that catastrophe. + </p> + <p> + My gaze fell again upon the red brand. I saw that it was a deep + indentation as though a thong had been twisted around Ventnor's head + biting the bone. There was dried blood on the edges, a double ring of + swollen white flesh rimming the cincture. It was the mark of—torture! + </p> + <p> + “Martin,” I cried. “That ring? What did they do to you?” + </p> + <p> + “They waked me with that,” he answered quietly. “I suppose I ought to be + grateful—although their intentions were not exactly—therapeutic—” + </p> + <p> + “They tortured him,” Ruth's voice was tense, bitter; she spoke in Persian—for + Norhala's benefit I thought then, not guessing a deeper reason. “They + tortured him. They gave him agony until he—returned. And they + promised him other agonies that would make him pray long for death. + </p> + <p> + “And me—me”—she raised little clenched hands—“me they + stripped like a slave. They led me through the city and the people mocked + me. They took me before that swine Norhala has punished—and stripped + me before him—like a slave. Before my eyes they tortured my brother. + Norhala—they were evil, all evil! Norhala—you did well to slay + them!” + </p> + <p> + She caught the woman's hands, pressed close to her. Norhala gazed at her + from great gray eyes in which the wrath was dying, into which the old + tranquillity, the old serenity was flowing. And when she spoke the golden + voice held more than returning echoes of the far-away, faint chimings. + </p> + <p> + “It is done,” she said. “And it was well done—sister. Now you and I + shall dwell together in peace—sister. Or if there be those in the + world from which you came that you would have slain, then you and I shall + go forth with our companies and stamp them out—even as I did these.” + </p> + <p> + My heart stopped beating—for from the depths of Ruth's eyes shining + shadows were rising, wraiths answering Norhala's calling; and, as they + rose, steadily they drew life from the clear radiance summoning—drew + closer to the semblance of that tranquil spirit which her vengeance had + banished but that had now returned to its twin thrones of Norhala's eyes. + </p> + <p> + And at last it was twin sister of Norhala who looked upon her from the + face of Ruth! + </p> + <p> + The white arms of the woman encircled her; the glorious head bent over + her; flaming tresses mingled with tender brown curls. + </p> + <p> + “Sister!” she whispered. “Little sister! These men you shall have as long + as it pleases you—to do with as you will. Or if it is your wish they + shall go back to their world and I will guard them to its gates. + </p> + <p> + “But you and I, little sister, will dwell together—in the vastnesses—in + the peace. Shall it not be so?” + </p> + <p> + With no faltering, with no glance toward us three—lover, brother, + old friend—Ruth crept closer to her, rested her head upon the + virginal, royal breasts. + </p> + <p> + “It shall be so!” she murmured. “Sister—it shall be so. Norhala—I + am tired. Norhala—I have seen enough of men.” + </p> + <p> + An ecstasy of tenderness, a flame of unearthly rapture, trembled over the + woman's wondrous face. Hungrily, defiantly, she pressed the girl to her; + the stars in the lucid heavens of her eyes were soft and gentle and + caressing. + </p> + <p> + “Ruth!” cried Drake—and sprang toward them. She paid no heed; and + even as he leaped he was caught, whirled back against us. + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” said Ventnor, and caught him by the arm as wrathfully, blindedly, + he strove against the force that held him. “Wait. No use—now.” + </p> + <p> + There was a curious understanding in his voice—a curious sympathy, + too, in the patient, untroubled gaze that dwelt upon his sister and this + weirdly exquisite woman who held her. + </p> + <p> + “Wait!” exclaimed Drake. “Wait—hell! The damned witch is stealing + her away from us!” + </p> + <p> + Again he threw himself forward; recoiled as though swept back by an + invisible arm; fell against us and was clasped and held by Ventnor. And as + he struggled the Thing we rode halted. Like metal waves back into it + rushed the enigmatic billows that had washed over the fragments of the + city. + </p> + <p> + We were lifted; between us and the woman and girl a cleft appeared; it + widened into a rift. It was as though Norhala had decreed it as a symbol + of this her second victory—or had set it between us as a barrier. + </p> + <p> + Wider grew the rift. Save for the bridge of our voices it separated us + from Ruth as though she stood upon another world. + </p> + <p> + Higher we rose; the three of us now upon the flat top of a tower upon + whose counterpart fifty feet away and facing the homeward path, Ruth and + Norhala stood with white arms interlaced. + </p> + <p> + The serpent shape flashed toward us; it vanished beneath, merging into the + waiting Thing. + </p> + <p> + Then slowly the Thing began to move; quietly it glided to the chasm it had + blasted in the cliff wall. The shadow of those walls fell upon us. As one + we looked back; as one we searched out the patch of blue with the black + blot at its breast. + </p> + <p> + We found it; then the precipices hid it. Silently we streamed through the + chasm, through the canyon and the tunnel—speaking no word, Drake's + eyes fixed with bitter hatred upon Norhala, Ventnor brooding upon her + always with that enigmatic sympathy. We passed between the walls of the + further cleft; stood for an instant at the brink of the green forest. + </p> + <p> + There came to us as though from immeasurable distances, a faint, sustained + thrumming—like the beating of countless muffled drums. The Thing + that carried us trembled—the sound died away. The Thing quieted; it + began its steady, effortless striding through the crowding trees—but + now with none of that speed with which it had come, spurred forward by + Norhala's awakened hate. + </p> + <p> + Ventnor stirred; broke the silence. And now I saw how wasted was his body, + how sharpened his face; almost ethereal; purged not only by suffering but + by, it came to me, some strange knowledge. + </p> + <p> + “No use, Drake,” he said dreamily. “All this is now on the knees of the + gods. And whether those gods are humanity's or whether they are—Gods + of Metal—I do not know. + </p> + <p> + “But this I do know—only one way or another can the balance fall; + and if it be one way, then you and we shall have Ruth back. And if it + falls the other way—then there will be little need for us to care. + For man will be done!” + </p> + <p> + “Martin! What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “It is the crisis,” he answered. “We can do nothing, Goodwin—nothing. + Whatever is to be steps forth now from the womb of Destiny.” + </p> + <p> + Again there came that distant rolling—louder, now. Again the Thing + trembled. + </p> + <p> + “The drums,” whispered Ventnor. “The drums of destiny. What is it they are + heralding? A new birth of Earth and the passing of man? A new child to + whom shall be given dominion—nay, to whom has been given dominion? + Or is it—taps—for Them?” + </p> + <p> + The drumming died as I listened—fearfully. About us was only the + swishing, the sighing of the falling trees beneath the tread of the Thing. + Motionless stood Norhala; and as motionless Ruth. + </p> + <p> + “Martin,” I cried once more, a dreadful doubt upon me. “Martin—what + do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Whence did—They—come?” His voice was clear and calm, the eyes + beneath the red brand clear and quiet, too. “Whence did They come—these + Things that carry us? That strode like destroying angels over Cherkis's + city? Are they spawn of Earth—as we are? Or are they foster children—changelings + from another star? + </p> + <p> + “These creatures that when many still are one—that when one still + are many. Whence did They come? What are They?” + </p> + <p> + He looked down upon the cubes that held us; their hosts of tiny eyes shone + up at him, enigmatically—as though they heard and understood. + </p> + <p> + “I do not forget,” he said. “At least not all do I forget of what I saw + during that time when I seemed an atom outside space—as I told you, + or think I told you, speaking with unthinkable effort through lips that + seemed eternities away from me, the atom, who strove to open them. + </p> + <p> + “There were three—visions, revelations—I know not what to call + them. And though each seemed equally real, of two of them, only one, I + think, can be true; and of the third—that may some time be true but + surely is not yet.” + </p> + <p> + Through the air came a louder drum roll—in it something ominous, + something sinister. It swelled to a crescendo; abruptly ceased. And now I + saw Norhala raise her head; listen. + </p> + <p> + “I saw a world, a vast world, Goodwin, marching stately through space. It + was no globe—it was a world of many facets, of smooth and polished + planes; a huge blue jewel world, dimly luminous; a crystal world cut out + from Aether. A geometric thought of the Great Cause, of God, if you will, + made material. It was airless, waterless, sunless. + </p> + <p> + “I seemed to draw closer to it. And then I saw that over every facet + patterns were traced; gigantic symmetrical designs; mathematical + hieroglyphs. In them I read unthinkable calculations, formulas of + interwoven universes, arithmetical progressions of armies of stars, + pandects of the motions of the suns. In the patterns was an appalling + harmony—as though all the laws from those which guide the atom to + those which direct the cosmos were there resolved into completeness—totalled. + </p> + <p> + “The faceted world was like a cosmic abacist, tallying as it marched the + errors of the infinite. + </p> + <p> + “The patterned symbols constantly changed form. I drew nearer—the + symbols were alive. They were, in untold numbers—These!” + </p> + <p> + He pointed to the Thing that bore us. + </p> + <p> + “I was swept back; looked again upon it from afar. And a fantastic notion + came to me—fantasy it was, of course, yet built I know around a + nucleus of strange truth. It was”—his tone was half whimsical, half + apologetic—“it was that this jeweled world was ridden by some + mathematical god, driving it through space, noting occasionally with + amused tolerance the very bad arithmetic of another Deity the reverse of + mathematical—a more or less haphazard Deity, the god, in fact, of us + and the things we call living. + </p> + <p> + “It had no mission; it wasn't at all out to do any reforming; it wasn't in + the least concerned in rectifying any of the inaccuracies of the Other. + Only now and then it took note of the deplorable differences between the + worlds it saw and its own impeccably ordered and tidy temple with its + equally tidy servitors. + </p> + <p> + “Just an itinerant demiurge of supergeometry riding along through space on + its perfectly summed-up world; master of all celestial mechanics; its + people independent of all that complex chemistry and labor for equilibrium + by which we live; needing neither air nor water, heeding neither heat nor + cold; fed with the magnetism of interstellar space and stopping now and + then to banquet off the energy of some great sun.” + </p> + <p> + A thrill of amazement passed through me; fantasy all this might be but—how, + if so, had he gotten that last thought? He had not seen, as we had, the + orgy in the Hall of the Cones, the prodigious feeding of the Metal Monster + upon our sun. + </p> + <p> + “That passed,” he went on, unnoticing. “I saw vast caverns filled with the + Things; working, growing, multiplying. In caverns of our Earth—the + fruit of some unguessed womb? I do not know. + </p> + <p> + “But in those caverns, under countless orbs of many colored lights”—again + the thrill of amaze shook me—“they grew. It came to me that they + were reaching out toward sunlight and the open. They burst into it—into + yellow, glowing sunlight. Ours? I do not know. And that picture passed.” + </p> + <p> + His voice deepened. + </p> + <p> + “There came a third vision. I saw our Earth—I knew, Goodwin, + indisputably, unmistakably that it was our earth. But its rolling hills + were leveled, its mountains were ground and shaped into cold and polished + symbols—geometric, fashioned. + </p> + <p> + “The seas were fettered, gleaming like immense jewels in patterned + settings of crystal shores. The very Polar ice was chiseled. On the + ordered plains were traced the hieroglyphs of the faceted world. And on + all Earth, Goodwin, there was no green life, no city, no trace of man. On + this Earth that had been ours were only—These. + </p> + <p> + “Visioning!” he said. “Don't think that I accept them in their entirety. + Part truth, part illusion—the groping mind dazzled with light of + unfamiliar truths and making pictures from half light and half shadow to + help it understand. + </p> + <p> + “But still—SOME truth in them. How much I do not know. But this I do + know—that last vision was of a cataclysm whose beginnings we face + now—this very instant.” + </p> + <p> + The picture flashed behind my own eyes—of the walled city, its + thronging people, its groves and gardens, its science and its art; of the + Destroying Shapes trampling it flat—and then the dreadful, desolate + mount. + </p> + <p> + And suddenly I saw that mount as Earth—the city as Earth's cities—its + gardens and groves as Earth's fields and forests—and the vanished + people of Cherkis seemed to expand into all humanity. + </p> + <p> + “But Martin,” I stammered, fighting against choking, intolerable terror, + “there was something else. Something of the Keeper of the Cones and of our + striking through the sun to destroy the Things—something of them + being governed by the same laws that govern us and that if they broke them + they must fall. A hope—a PROMISE, that they would NOT conquer.” + </p> + <p> + “I remember,” he replied, “but not clearly. There WAS something—a + shadow upon them, a menace. It was a shadow that seemed to be born of our + own world—some threatening spirit of earth hovering over them. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot remember; it eludes me. Yet it is because I remember but a + little of it that I say those drums may not be—taps—for us.” + </p> + <p> + As though his words had been a cue, the sounds again burst forth—no + longer muffled nor faint. They roared; they seemed to pelt through air and + drop upon us; they beat about our ears with thunderous tattoo like covered + caverns drummed upon by Titans with trunks of great trees. + </p> + <p> + The drumming did not die; it grew louder, more vehement; defiant and + deafening. Within the Thing under us a mighty pulse began to throb, + accelerating rapidly to the rhythm of that clamorous roll. + </p> + <p> + I saw Norhala draw herself up, sharply; stand listening and alert. Under + me, the throbbing turned to an uneasy churning, a ferment. + </p> + <p> + “Drums?” muttered Drake. “THEY'RE no drums. It's drum fire. It's like a + dozen Marnes, a dozen Verduns. But where could batteries like those come + from?” + </p> + <p> + “Drums,” whispered Ventnor. “They ARE drums. The drums of Destiny!” + </p> + <p> + Louder the roaring grew. Now it was a tremendous rhythmic cannonading. The + Thing halted. The tower that upheld Ruth and Norhala swayed, bent over the + gap between us, touched the top on which we rode. + </p> + <p> + Gently the two were plucked up; swiftly they were set beside us. + </p> + <p> + Came a shrill, keen wailing—louder than ever I had heard before. + There was an earthquake trembling; a maelstrom swirling in which we spun; + a swift sinking. + </p> + <p> + The Thing split in two. Up before us rose a stupendous, stepped pyramid; + little smaller it was than that which Cheops built to throw its shadows + across holy Nile. Into it streamed, over it clicked, score upon score of + cubes, building it higher and higher. It lurched forward—away from + us. + </p> + <p> + From Norhala came a single cry—resonant, blaring like a wrathful, + golden trumpet. + </p> + <p> + The speeding shape halted, hesitated; it seemed about to return. Crashed + down upon us an abrupt crescendo of the distant drumming; peremptory, + commanding. The shape darted forward; raced away crushing to straw the + trees beneath it in a full quarter-mile-wide swath. + </p> + <p> + Great gray eyes wide, filled with incredulous wonder, stunned disbelief, + Norhala for an instant faltered. Then out of her white throat, through her + red lips pelted a tempest of staccato buglings. + </p> + <p> + Under them what was left of the Thing leaped, tore on. Norhala's flaming + hair crackled and streamed; about her body of milk and pearl—about + Ruth's creamy skin—a radiant nimbus began to glow. + </p> + <p> + In the distance I saw a sapphire spark; knew it for Norhala's home. Not + far from it now was the rushing pyramid—and it came to me that + within that shape was strangely neither globe nor pyramid. Nor except for + the trembling cubes that made the platform on which we stood, did the + shrunken Thing carrying us hold any unit of the Metal Monster except its + spheres and tetrahedrons—at least within its visible bulk. + </p> + <p> + The sapphire spark had grown to a glimmering azure marble. Steadily we + gained upon the pyramid. Never for an instant ceased that scourging hail + of notes from Norhala—never for an instant lessened the drumming + clamor that seemed to try to smother them. + </p> + <p> + The sapphire marble became a sapphire ball, a great globe. I saw the Thing + we sought to join lift itself into a prodigious pillar; the pillar's base + thrust forth stilts; upon them the Thing stepped over the blue dome of + Norhala's house. + </p> + <p> + The blue bubble was close; now it curved below us. Gently we were lifted + down; were set before its portal. I looked up at the bulk that had carried + us. + </p> + <p> + I had been right—built it was only of globe and pyramid; an + inconceivably grotesque shape, it hung over us. + </p> + <p> + Throughout the towering Shape was awful movement; its units writhed within + it. Then it was lost to sight in the mists through which the Thing we had + pursued had gone. + </p> + <p> + In Norhala's face as she watched it go was a dismay, a poignant + uncertainty, that held in it something indescribably pitiful. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid!” I heard her whisper. + </p> + <p> + She tightened her grasp upon dreaming Ruth; motioned us to go within. We + passed, silently; behind us she came, followed by three of the great + globes, by a pair of her tetrahedrons. + </p> + <p> + Beside a pile of the silken stuffs she halted. The girl's eyes dwelt upon + hers trustingly. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid!” whispered Norhala again. “Afraid—for you!” + </p> + <p> + Tenderly she looked down upon her, the galaxies of stars in her eyes soft + and tremulous. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid, little sister,” she whispered for the third time. “Not yet + can you go as I do—among the fires.” She hesitated. “Rest here until + I return. I shall leave these to guard you and obey you.” + </p> + <p> + She motioned to the five shapes. They ranged themselves about Ruth. + Norhala kissed her upon both brown eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Sleep till I return,” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + She swept from the chamber—with never a glance for us three. I heard + a little wailing chorus without, fast dying into silence. + </p> + <p> + Spheres and pyramids twinkled at us, guarding the silken pile whereon Ruth + lay asleep—like some enchanted princess. + </p> + <p> + Beat down upon the blue globe like hollow metal worlds, beaten and + shrieking. + </p> + <p> + The drums of Destiny! + </p> + <p> + The drums of Doom! + </p> + <p> + Beating taps for the world of men? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII. THE FRENZY OF RUTH + </h2> + <p> + For many minutes we stood silent, in the shadowy chamber, listening, each + absorbed in his own thoughts. The thunderous drumming was continuous; + sometimes it faded into a background for clattering storms as of thousands + of machine guns, thousands of riveters at work at once upon a thousand + metal frameworks; sometimes it was nearly submerged beneath splitting + crashes as of meeting meteors of hollow steel. + </p> + <p> + But always the drumming persisted, rhythmic, thunderous. Through it all + Ruth slept, undisturbed, cheek pillowed in one rounded arm, the two great + pyramids erect behind her, watchful; a globe at her feet, a globe at her + head, the third sphere poised between her and us, and, like the pyramids—watchful. + </p> + <p> + What was happening out there—over the edge of the canyon, beyond the + portal of the cliffs, behind the veils, in the Pit of the Metal Monster? + What was the message of the roaring drums? What the rede of their + clamorous runes? + </p> + <p> + Ventnor stepped by the sentinel globe, bent over the tranced girl. Sphere + nor pointed pair stirred; only they watched him—like a palpable + thing one felt their watchfulness. He listened to her heart, caught up a + wrist, took note of her pulse of life. He drew a deep breath, stood + upright, nodded reassuringly. + </p> + <p> + Abruptly Drake turned, walked out through the open portal, his strain and + a very deep anxiety written plainly in deep lines that ran from nostrils + to firm young mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Just went out to look for the pony,” he muttered when he returned. “It's + safe. I was afraid it had been stepped on. It's getting dusk. There's a + big light down the canyon—over in the valley.” + </p> + <p> + Ventnor drew back past the globe; rejoined us. + </p> + <p> + The blue bower trembled under a gust of sound. Ruth stirred; her brows + knitted; her hands clenched. The sphere that stood before her spun on its + axis, swept up to the globe at her head, glided from it to the globe at + her feet—as though whispering. Ruth moaned—her body bent + upright, swayed rigidly. Her eyes opened; they stared through us as though + upon some dreadful vision; and strangely was it as though she were seeing + with another's eyes, were reflecting another's sufferings. + </p> + <p> + The globes at her feet and at her head swirled out, clustering against the + third sphere—three weird shapes in silent consultation. On Ventnor's + face I saw pity—and a vast relief. With shocked amaze I realized + that Ruth's agony—for in agony she clearly was—was calling + forth in him elation. He spoke—and I knew why. + </p> + <p> + “Norhala!” he whispered. “She is seeing with Norhala's eyes—feeling + what Norhala feels. It's not going well with—That—out there. + If we dared leave Ruth—could only, see—” + </p> + <p> + Ruth leaped to her feet; cried out—a golden bugling that might have + been Norhala's own wrathful trumpet notes. Instantly the two pyramids + flamed open, became two gleaming stars that bathed her in violet radiance. + Beneath their upper tips I saw the blasting ovals glitter—menacingly. + </p> + <p> + The girl glared at us—more brilliant grew the glittering ovals as + though their lightnings trembled on their lips. + </p> + <p> + “Ruth!” called Ventnor softly. + </p> + <p> + A shadow softened the intolerable, hard brilliancy of the brown eyes. In + them something struggled to arise, fighting its way to the surface like + some drowning human thing. + </p> + <p> + It sank back—upon her face dropped a cloud of heartbreak, appalling + woe; the despair of a soul that, having withdrawn all faith in its own + kind to rest all faith, as it thought, on angels—sees that faith + betrayed. + </p> + <p> + There stared upon us a stripped spirit, naked and hopeless and terrible. + </p> + <p> + Despairing, raging, she screamed once more. The central globe swam to her; + it raised her upon its back; glided to the doorway. Upon it she stood + poised like some youthful, anguished Victory—a Victory who faced and + knew she faced destroying defeat; poised upon that enigmatic orb on bare + slender feet, one sweet breast bare, hands upraised, virginally archaic, + nothing about her of the Ruth we knew. + </p> + <p> + “Ruth!” cried Drake; despair as great as that upon her face was in his + voice. He sprang before the globe that held her; barred its way. + </p> + <p> + For an instant the Thing paused—and in that instant the human soul + of the girl rushed back. + </p> + <p> + “No!” she cried. “No!” + </p> + <p> + A weird call issued from the white lips—stumbling, uncertain, as + though she who sent it forth herself wondered whence it sprang. Abruptly + the angry stars closed. The three globes spun—doubting, puzzled! + Again she called—now a tremulous, halting cadence. She was lifted; + dropped gently to her feet. + </p> + <p> + For an instant the globes and pyramids whirled and danced before her—then + sped away through the portal. + </p> + <p> + Ruth swayed, sobbing. Then as though drawn, she ran to the doorway, fled + through it. As one we sprang after her. Rods ahead her white body flashed, + speeding toward the Pit. Like fleet-footed Atalanta she fled—and + far, far behind us was the blue bower, the misty barrier of the veils + close, when Drake with a last desperate burst reached her side, gripped + her. Down the two fell, rolling upon the smooth roadway. Silently she + fought, biting, tearing at Drake, struggling to escape. + </p> + <p> + “Quick!” gasped Ventnor, stretching out to me an arm. “Cut off the sleeve. + Quick!” + </p> + <p> + Unquestioningly, I drew my knife, ripped the garment at the shoulder. He + snatched the sleeve, knelt at Ruth's head; rapidly he crumpled an end, + thrust it roughly into her mouth; tied it fast, gagging her. + </p> + <p> + “Hold her!” he ordered Drake; and with a sob of relief sprang up. The + girl's eyes blazed at him, filled with hate. + </p> + <p> + “Cut that other sleeve,” he said; and when I had done so, he knelt again, + pinned Ruth down with a knee at her throat, turned her over and knotted + her hands behind her. She ceased struggling; gently now he drew up the + curly head; swung her upon her back. + </p> + <p> + “Hold her feet.” He nodded to Drake, who caught the slender bare ankles in + his hands. + </p> + <p> + She lay there, helpless, being unable to use her hands or feet. + </p> + <p> + “Too little Ruth, and too much Norhala,” said Ventnor, looking up at me. + “If she'd only thought to cry out! She could have brought a regiment of + those Things down to blast us. And would—if she HAD thought. You + don't think THAT is Ruth, do you?” + </p> + <p> + He pointed to the pallid face glaring at him, the eyes from which cold + fires flamed. + </p> + <p> + “No, you don't!” He caught Drake by the shoulder, sent him spinning a + dozen feet away. “Damn it, Drake—don't you understand!” + </p> + <p> + For suddenly Ruth's eyes softened; she had turned them on Dick pitifully, + appealingly—and he had loosed her ankles, had leaned forward as + though to draw away the band that covered her lips. + </p> + <p> + “Your gun,” whispered Ventnor to me; before I had moved he had snatched + the automatic from my holster; had covered Drake with it. + </p> + <p> + “Drake,” he said, “stand where you are. If you take another step toward + this girl I'll shoot you—by God, I will!” + </p> + <p> + Drake halted, shocked amazement in his face; I myself felt resentful, + wondering at his outburst. + </p> + <p> + “But it's hurting her,” he muttered, Ruth's eyes, soft and pleading, still + dwelt upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Hurting her!” exclaimed Ventnor. “Man—she's my sister! I know what + I'm doing. Can't you see? Can't you see how little of Ruth is in that body + there—how little of the girl you love? How or why I don't know—but + that it is so I DO know. Drake—have you forgotten how Norhala + beguiled Cherkis? I want my sister back. I'm helping her to get back. Now + let be. I know what I'm doing. Look at her!” + </p> + <p> + We looked. In the face that glared up at Ventnor was nothing of Ruth—even + as he had said. There was the same cold, awesome wrath that had rested + upon Norhala's as she watched Cherkis weep over the eating up of his city. + Swiftly came a change—like the sudden smoothing out of the rushing + waves of a hill-locked, wind-lashed lake. + </p> + <p> + The face was again Ruth's face—and Ruth's alone; the eyes were + Ruth's eyes—supplicating, adjuring. + </p> + <p> + “Ruth!” Ventnor cried. “While you can hear—am I not right?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded vigorously, sternly; she was lost, hidden once more. + </p> + <p> + “You see.” He turned to us grimly. + </p> + <p> + A shattering shaft of light flashed upon the veils; almost pierced them. + An avalanche of sound passed high above us. Yet now I noted that where we + stood the clamor was lessened, muffled. Of course, it came to me, it was + the veils. + </p> + <p> + I wondered why—for whatever the quality of the radiant mists, their + purpose certainly had to do with concentration of the magnetic flux. The + deadening of the noise must be accidental, could have nothing to do with + their actual use; for sound is an air vibration solely. No—it must + be a secondary effect. The Metal Monster was as heedless of clamor as it + was of heat or cold— + </p> + <p> + “We've got to see,” Ventnor broke the chain of thought. “We've got to get + through and see what's happening. Win or lose—we've got to KNOW.” + </p> + <p> + “Cut off your sleeve, as I did,” he motioned to Drake. “Tie her ankles. + We'll carry her.” + </p> + <p> + Quickly it was done. Ruth's light body swinging between brother and lover, + we moved forward into the mists; we crept cautiously through their dead + silences. + </p> + <p> + Passed out and fell back into them from a searing chaos of light, chaotic + tumult. + </p> + <p> + From the slackened grip of Ventnor and Drake the body of Ruth dropped + while we three stood blinded, deafened, fighting for recovery. Ruth + twisted, rolled toward the brink; Ventnor threw himself upon her, held her + fast. + </p> + <p> + Dragging her, crawling on our knees, we crept forward; we stopped when the + thinning of the mists permitted us to see through them yet still + interposed a curtaining which, though tenuous, dimmed the intolerable + brilliancy that filled the Pit, muffled its din to a degree we could bear. + </p> + <p> + I peered through them—and nerve and muscle were locked in the grip + of a paralyzing awe. I felt then as one would feel set close to warring + regiments of stars, made witness to the death-throes of a universe, or + swept through space and held above the whirling coils of Andromeda's + nebula to watch its birth agonies of nascent suns. + </p> + <p> + These are no figures of speech, no hyperboles—speck as our whole + planet would be in Andromeda's vast loom, pinprick as was the Pit to the + cyclone craters of our own sun, within the cliff-cupped walls of the + valley was a tangible, struggling living force akin to that which dwells + within the nebula and the star; a cosmic spirit transcending all + dimensions and thrusting its confines out into the infinite; a sentient + emanation of the infinite itself. + </p> + <p> + Nor was its voice less unearthly. It used the shell of the earth valley + for its trumpetings, its clangors—but as one hears in the murmurings + of the fluted conch the great voice of ocean, its whispering and its + roarings, so here in the clamorous shell of the Pit echoed the tremendous + voices of that illimitable sea which laps the shores of the countless + suns. + </p> + <p> + I looked upon a mighty whirlpool miles and miles wide. It whirled with + surges whose racing crests were smiting incandescences; it was threaded + with a spindrift of lightnings; it was trodden by dervish mists of molten + flame thrust through with forests of lances of living light. It cast a + cadent spray high to the heavens. + </p> + <p> + Over it the heavens glittered as though they were a shield held by fearful + gods. Through the maelstrom staggered a mountainous bulk; a gleaming + leviathan of pale blue metal caught in the swirling tide of some + incredible volcano; a huge ark of metal breasting a deluge of flame. + </p> + <p> + And the drumming we heard as of hollow beaten metal worlds, the shouting + tempests of cannonading stars, was the breaking of these incandescent + crests, the falling of the lightning spindrift, the rhythmic impact of the + lanced rays upon the glimmering mountain that reeled and trembled as they + struck it. + </p> + <p> + The reeling mountain, the struggling leviathan, was—the City! + </p> + <p> + It was the mass of the Metal Monster itself, guarded by, stormed by, its + own legions that though separate from it were still as much of it as were + the cells that formed the skin of its walls, its carapace. + </p> + <p> + It was the Metal Monster tearing, rending, fighting for, battling against—itself. + </p> + <p> + Mile high as when I had first beheld it was the inexplicable body that + held the great heart of the cones into which had been drawn the magnetic + cataracts from our sun; that held too the smaller hearts of the lesser + cones, the workshops, the birth chamber and manifold other mysteries + unguessed and unseen. By a full fourth had its base been shrunken. + </p> + <p> + Ranged in double line along the side turned toward us were hundreds of + dread forms—Shapes that in their intensity bore down upon, oppressed + with a nightmare weight, the consciousness. + </p> + <p> + Rectangular, upon their outlines no spike of pyramid, no curve of globe + showing, uncompromisingly ponderous, they upthrust. Upon the tops of the + first rank were enormous masses, sledge shaped—like those metal + fists that had battered down the walls of Cherkis's city but to them as + the human hand is to the paw of the dinosaur. + </p> + <p> + Conceive this—conceive these Shapes as animate and flexible; beating + down with the prodigious mallets, smashing from side to side as though the + tremendous pillars that held them were thousand jointed upright pistons; + that as closely as I can present it in images of things we know is the + picture of the Hammering Things. + </p> + <p> + Behind them stood a second row, high as they and as angular. From them + extended scores of girdered arms. These were thickly studded with the + flaming cruciform shapes, the opened cubes gleaming with their angry + flares of reds and smoky yellows. From the tentacles of many swung immense + shields like those which ringed the hall of the great cones. + </p> + <p> + And as the sledges beat, ever over their bent heads poured from the + crosses a flood of crimson lightnings. Out of the concave depths of the + shields whipped lashes of blinding flame. With ropes of fire they knouted + the Things the sledges struck, the sullen crimson levins blasted. + </p> + <p> + Now I could see the Shapes that attacked. Grotesque; spined and tusked, + spiked and antlered, wenned and breasted; as chimerically angled, cusped + and cornute as though they were the superangled, supercornute gods of the + cusped and angled gods of the Javanese, they strove against the + sledge-headed and smiting, the multiarmed and blasting square towers. + </p> + <p> + High as them, as huge as they, incomparably fantastic, in dozens of + shifting forms they battled. + </p> + <p> + More than a mile from the stumbling City stood ranged like sharpshooters a + host of solid, bristling-legged towers. Upon their tops spun gigantic + wheels. Out of the centers of these wheels shot the radiant lances, hosts + of spears of intensest violet light. The radiance they volleyed was not + continuous; it was broken, so that the javelin rays shot out in rhythmic + flights, each flying fast upon the shafts of the others. + </p> + <p> + It was their impact that sent forth the thunderous drumming. They struck + and splintered against the walls, dropping from them in great gouts of + molten flame. It was as though before they broke they pierced the wall, + the Monster's side, bled fire. + </p> + <p> + With the crashing of broadsides of massed batteries the sledges smashed + down upon the bristling attackers. Under the awful impact globes and + pyramids were shattered into hundreds of fragments, rocket bursts of blue + and azure and violet flame, flames rainbowed and irised. + </p> + <p> + The hammer ends split, flew apart, were scattered, were falling showers of + sulphurous yellow and scarlet meteors. But ever other cubes swarmed out + and repaired the broken smiting tips. And always where a tusked and + cornute shape had been battered down, disintegrated, another arose as huge + and as formidable pouring forth upon the squared tower its lightnings, + tearing at it with colossal spiked and hooked claws, beating it with + incredible spiked and globular fists that were like the clenched hands of + some metal Atlas. + </p> + <p> + As the striving Shapes swayed and wrestled, gave way or thrust forward, + staggered or fell, the bulk of the Monster stumbled and swayed, advanced + and retreated—an unearthly motion wedded to an amorphous immensity + that flooded the watching consciousness with a deathly nausea. + </p> + <p> + Unceasingly the hail of radiant lances poured from the spinning wheels, + falling upon Towered Shapes and City's wall alike. There arose a + prodigious wailing, an unearthly thin screaming. About the bases of the + defenders flashed blinding bursts of incandescence—like those which + had heralded the flight of the Flying Thing dropping before Norhala's + house. + </p> + <p> + Unlike them they held no dazzling sapphire brilliancies; they were + ochreous, suffused with raging vermilion. Nevertheless they were factors + of that same inexplicable action—for from thousands of gushing + lights leaped thousands of gigantic square pillars; unimaginable + projectiles hurled from the flaming mouths of earth-hidden, titanic + mortars. + </p> + <p> + They soared high, swerved and swooped upon the lance-throwers. Beneath + their onslaught those chimerae tottered, I saw living projectiles and + living target fuse where they met—melt and weld in jets of + lightnings. + </p> + <p> + But not all. There were those that tore great gaps in the horned giants—wounds + that instantly were healed with globes and pyramids seething out from the + Cyclopean trunk. Ever the incredible projectiles flashed and flew as + though from some inexhaustible store; ever uprose that prodigious barrage + against the smiting rays. + </p> + <p> + Now to check them soared from the ranks of the besiegers clouds of + countless horned dragons, immense cylinders of clustered cubes studded + with the clinging tetrahedrons. They struck the cubed projectiles head on; + aimed themselves to meet them. + </p> + <p> + Bristling dragon and hurtling pillar stuck and fused or burst with + intolerable blazing. They fell—cube and sphere and pyramid—some + half opened, some fully, in a rain of disks, of stars, huge flaming + crosses; a storm of unimaginable pyrotechnics. + </p> + <p> + Now I became conscious that within the City—within the body of the + Metal Monster—there raged a strife colossal as this without. From it + came a vast volcanic roaring. Up from its top shot tortured flames, + cascades and fountains of frenzied Things that looped and struggled, + writhed over its edge, hurled themselves back; battling chimerae which + against the glittering heavens traced luminous symbols of agony. + </p> + <p> + Shrilled a stronger wailing. Up from behind the ray hurling Towers shot + hosts of globes. Thousands of palely azure, metal moons they soared; + warrior moons charging in meteor rush and streaming with fluttering battle + pennons of violet flame. High they flew; they curved over the mile high + back of the Monster; they dropped upon it. + </p> + <p> + Arose to meet them immense columns of the cubes; battered against the + spheres; swept them over and down into the depths. Hundreds fell, broken—but + thousands held their place. I saw them twine about the pillars—writhing + columns of interlaced cubes and globes straining like monstrous serpents + while all along their coils the open disks and crosses smote with the + scimitars of their lightnings. + </p> + <p> + In the wall of the City appeared a shining crack; from top to bottom it + ran; it widened into a rift from which a flood of radiance gushed. Out of + this rift poured a thousand-foot-high torrent of horned globes. + </p> + <p> + Only for an instant they flowed. The rift closed upon them, catching those + still emerging in a colossal vise. It CRUNCHED them. Plain through the + turmoil came a dreadful—bursting roar. + </p> + <p> + Down from the closing jaws of the vise dripped a stream of fragments that + flashed and flickered—and died. And now in the wall was no trace of + the breach. + </p> + <p> + A hurricane of radiant lances swept it. Under them a mile wide section of + the living scarp split away; dropped like an avalanche. Its fall revealed + great spaces, huge vaults and chambers filled with warring lightnings—out + from them came roaring, bellowing thunders. Swiftly from each side of the + gap a metal curtaining of the cubes joined. Again the wall was whole. + </p> + <p> + I turned my stunned gaze from the City—swept over the valley. + Everywhere, in towers, in writhing coils, in whipping flails, in waves + that smote and crashed, in countless forms and combinations the Metal + Hordes battled. Here were pillars against which metal billows rushed and + were broken; there were metal comets that crashed high above the mad + turmoil. + </p> + <p> + From streaming silent veil to veil—north and south, east and west + the Monster slew itself beneath its racing, flaming banners, the tempests + of its lightnings. + </p> + <p> + The tortured hulk of the City lurched; it swept toward us. Before it + blotted out from our eyes the Pit I saw that the crystal spans upon the + river of jade were gone; that the wondrous jeweled ribbons of its banks + were broken. + </p> + <p> + Closer came the reeling City. + </p> + <p> + I fumbled for my lenses, focussed them upon it. Now I saw that where the + radiant lances struck they—killed the blocks blackened under them, + became lustreless; the sparkling of the tiny eyes—went out; the + metal carapaces crumbled. + </p> + <p> + Closer to the City—came the Monster; shuddering I lowered the + glasses that it might not seem so near. + </p> + <p> + Down dropped the bristling Shapes that wrestled with the squared Towers. + They rose again in a single monstrous wave that rushed to overwhelm them. + Before they could strike the City swept closer; had hidden them from me. + </p> + <p> + Again I raised the glasses. They brought the metal scarp not fifty feet + away—within it the hosts of tiny eyes glittered, no longer mocking + nor malicious, but insane. + </p> + <p> + Nearer drew the Monster—nearer. + </p> + <p> + A thousand feet away it checked its movement, seemed to draw itself + together. Then like the roar of a falling world that whole side facing us + slid down to the valley's floor. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX. THE PASSING OF NORHALA + </h2> + <p> + Hundreds of feet through must have been the fallen mass—within it + who knows what chambers filled with mysteries? Yes, thousands of feet + thick it must have been, for the debris of it splintered and lashed to the + very edge of the ledge on which we crouched; heaped it with the dimming + fragments of the bodies that had formed it. + </p> + <p> + We looked into a thousand vaults, a thousand spaces. There came another + avalanche roaring—before us opened the crater of the cones. + </p> + <p> + Through the torn gap I saw them, clustering undisturbed about the base of + that one slender, coroneted and star pointing spire, rising serene and + unshaken from a hell of lightnings. But the shields that had rimmed the + crater were gone. + </p> + <p> + Ventnor snatched the glasses from my hand, leveled and held them long to + his eyes. + </p> + <p> + He thrust them back to me. “Look!” + </p> + <p> + Through the lenses the great hall leaped into full view apparently only a + few yards away. It was a cauldron of chameleon flame. It seethed with the + Hordes battling over the remaining walls and floor. But around the crystal + base of the cones was an open zone into which none broke. + </p> + <p> + In that wide ring, girdling the shimmering fantasy like a circled + sanctuary, were but three forms. One was the wondrous Disk of jeweled + fires I have called the Metal Emperor; the second was the sullen fired + cruciform of the Keeper. + </p> + <p> + The third was Norhala! + </p> + <p> + She stood at the side of that weird master of hers—or was it after + all the servant? Between them and the Keeper's planes gleamed the gigantic + T-shaped tablet of countless rods which controlled the activities of the + cones; that had controlled the shifting of the vanished shields; that + manipulated too, perhaps, the energies of whatever similar but smaller + cornute ganglia were scattered throughout the City and one of which we had + beheld when the Emperor's guards had blasted Ventnor. + </p> + <p> + Close was Norhala in the lenses—so close that almost, it seemed, I + could reach out and touch her. The flaming hair streamed and billowed + above her glorious head like a banner of molten floss of coppery gold; her + face was a mask of wrath and despair; her great eyes blazed upon the + Keeper; her exquisite body was bare, stripped of every shred of silken + covering. + </p> + <p> + From streaming tresses to white feet an oval of pulsing, golden light + nimbused her. Maiden Isis, virgin Astarte she stood there, held in the + grip of the Disk—like a goddess betrayed and hopeless yet thirsting + for vengeance. + </p> + <p> + For all their stillness, their immobility, it came to me that Emperor and + Keeper were at grapple, locked in death grip; the realization was as + definite as though, like Ruth, I thought with Norhala's mind, saw with her + eyes. + </p> + <p> + Clearly too it came to me that in this contest between the two was + epitomized all the vast conflict that raged around them; that in it was + fast ripening that fruit of destiny of which Ventnor had spoken, and that + here in the Hall of the Cones would be settled—and soon—the + fate not only of Disk and Cross, but it might be of humanity. + </p> + <p> + But with what unknown powers was that duel being fought? They cast no + lightnings, they battled with no visible weapons. Only the great planes of + the inverted cruciform Shape smoked and smoldered with their sullen flares + of ochres and of scarlets; while over all the face of the Disk its cold + and irised fires raced and shone, beating with a rhythm incredibly rapid; + its core of incandescent ruby blazed, its sapphire ovals were cabochoned + pools of living, lucent radiance. + </p> + <p> + There was a splitting roar that arose above all the clamor, deafening us + even in the shelter of the silent veils. On each side of the crater whole + masses of the City dropped away. Fleetingly I was aware of scores of + smaller pits in which uprose lesser replicas of the Coned Mount, lesser + reservoirs of the Monster's force. + </p> + <p> + Neither the Emperor nor the Keeper moved, both seemingly indifferent to + the catastrophe fast developing around them. + </p> + <p> + Now I strained forward to the very thinnest edge of the curtainings. For + between the Disk and Cross began to form fine black mist. It was + transparent. It seemed spun of minute translucent ebon corpuscles. It hung + like a black shroud suspended by unseen hands. It shook and wavered now + toward the Disk, now toward the Cross. + </p> + <p> + I sensed a keying up of force within the two; knew that each was striving + to cast like a net that hanging mist upon the other. + </p> + <p> + Abruptly the Emperor flashed forth, blindingly. As though caught upon a + blast, the black shroud flew toward the Keeper—enveloped it. And as + the mist covered and clung I saw the sulphurous and crimson flares dim. + They were snuffed out. + </p> + <p> + The Keeper fell! + </p> + <p> + Upon Norhala's face flamed a wild triumph, banishing despair. The + outstretched planes of the Cross swept up as though in torment. For an + instant its fires flared and licked through the clinging blackness; it + writhed half upright, threw itself forward, crashed down prostrate upon + the enigmatic tablet which only its tentacles could manipulate. + </p> + <p> + From Norhala's face the triumph fled. On its heels rushed stark, + incredulous horror. + </p> + <p> + The Mount of Cones shuddered. From it came a single mighty throb of force—like + a prodigious heart-beat. Under that pulse of power the Emperor staggered, + spun—and spinning, swept Norhala from her feet, swung her close to + its flashing rose. + </p> + <p> + A second throb pulsed from the cones, and mightier. + </p> + <p> + A spasm shook the Disk—a paroxysm. + </p> + <p> + Its fires faded; they flared out again, bathing the floating, unearthly + figure of Norhala with their iridescences. + </p> + <p> + I saw her body writhe—as though it shared the agony of the Shape + that held her. Her head twisted; the great eyes, pools of uncomprehending, + unbelieving horror, stared into mine. + </p> + <p> + With a spasmodic, infinitely dreadful movement the Disk closed— + </p> + <p> + And closed upon her! + </p> + <p> + Norhala was gone—was shut within it. Crushed to the pent fires of + its crystal heart. + </p> + <p> + I heard a sobbing, agonized choking—knew it was I who sobbed. + Against me I felt Ruth's body strike, bend in convulsive arc, drop inert. + </p> + <p> + The slender steeple of the cones drooped sending its faceted coronet + shattering to the floor. The Mount melted. Beneath the flooding radiance + sprawled Keeper and the great inert Globe that was the Goddess woman's + sepulcher. + </p> + <p> + The crater filled with the pallid luminescence. Faster and ever faster it + poured down into the Pit. And from all the lesser craters of the smaller + cones swept silent cataracts of the same pale radiance. + </p> + <p> + The City began to crumble—the Monster to fall. + </p> + <p> + Like pent-up waters rushing through a broken dam the gleaming deluge swept + over the valley; gushing in steady torrents from the breaking mass. Over + the valley fell a vast silence. The lightnings ceased. The Metal Hordes + stood rigid, the shining flood lapping at their bases, rising swiftly ever + higher. + </p> + <p> + Now from the sinking City swarmed multitudes of its weird luminaries. + </p> + <p> + Out they trooped, swirling from every rent and gap—orbs scarlet and + sapphire, ruby orbs, orbs tuliped and irised—the jocund suns of the + birth chamber and side by side with them hosts of the frozen, pale gilt, + stiff rayed suns. + </p> + <p> + Thousands upon thousands they marched forth and poised themselves solemnly + over all the Pit that now was a fast rising lake of yellow froth of sun + flame. + </p> + <p> + They swept forth in squadrons, in companies, in regiments, those + mysterious orbs. They floated over all the valley; they separated and + swung motionless above it as though they were mysterious multiple souls of + fire brooding over the dying shell that had held them. + </p> + <p> + Beneath, thrusting up from the lambent lake like grotesque towers of some + drowned fantastic metropolis, the great Shapes stood, black against its + glowing. + </p> + <p> + What had been the City—that which had been the bulk of the Monster—was + now only a vast and shapeless hill from which streamed the silent torrents + of that released, unknown force which, concentrate and bound, had been the + cones. + </p> + <p> + As though it was the Monster's shining life-blood it poured, raising ever + higher in its swift flooding the level radiant lake. + </p> + <p> + Lower and lower sank the immense bulk; squattered and spread, ever + lowering—about its helpless, patient crouching something ineffably + piteous, something indescribably, COSMICALLY tragic. + </p> + <p> + Abruptly the watching orbs shook under a hail of sparkling atoms streaming + down from the glittering sky; raining upon the lambent lake. So thick they + fell that now the brooding luminaries were dim aureoles within them. + </p> + <p> + From the Pit came a blinding, insupportable brilliancy. From every rigid + tower gleamed out jeweled fires; their clinging units opened into blazing + star and disk and cross. The City was a hill of living gems over which + flowed torrents of pale molten gold. + </p> + <p> + The Pit blazed. + </p> + <p> + There followed an appalling tensity; a prodigious gathering of force; a + panic stirring concentration of energy. Thicker fell the clouds of + sparkling atoms—higher rose the yellow flood. + </p> + <p> + Ventnor cried out. I could not hear him, but I read his purpose—and + so did Drake. Up on his broad shoulders he swung Ruth as though she had + been a child. Back through the throbbing veils we ran; passed out of them. + </p> + <p> + “Back!” shouted Ventnor. “Back as far as you can!” + </p> + <p> + On we raced; we reached the gateway of the cliffs; we dashed on and on—up + the shining roadway toward the blue globe now a scant mile before us; ran + sobbing, panting—ran, we knew, for our lives. + </p> + <p> + Out of the Pit came a sound—I cannot describe it! + </p> + <p> + An unutterably desolate, dreadful wail of despair, it shuddered past us + like the groaning of a broken-hearted star—anguished and awesome. + </p> + <p> + It died. There rushed upon us a sea of that incredible loneliness, that + longing for extinction that had assailed us in the haunted hollow where + first we had seen Norhala. But its billows were resistless, invincible. + Beneath them we fell; were torn by desire for swift death. + </p> + <p> + Dimly, through fainting eyes, I saw a dazzling brilliancy fill the sky; + heard with dying ears a chaotic, blasting roar. A wave of air thicker than + water caught us up, hurled us hundreds of yards forward. It dropped us; in + its wake rushed another wave, withering, scorching. + </p> + <p> + It raced over us. Scorching though it was, within its heat was energizing, + revivifying force; something that slew the deadly despair and fed the + fading fires of life. + </p> + <p> + I staggered to my feet; looked back. The veils were gone. The precipice + walled gateway they had curtained was filled with a Plutonic glare as + though it opened into the incandescent heart of a volcano. + </p> + <p> + Ventnor clutched my shoulder, spun me around. He pointed to the sapphire + house, started to run to it. Far ahead I saw Drake, the body of the girl + clasped to his breast. The heat became blasting, insupportable; my lungs + burned. + </p> + <p> + Over the sky above the canyon streaked a serpentine chain of lightnings. A + sudden cyclonic gust swept the cleft, whirling us like leaves toward the + Pit. + </p> + <p> + I threw myself upon my face, clutching at the smooth rock. A volley of + thunder burst—but not the thunder of the Metal Monster or its + Hordes; no, the bellowing of the levins of our own earth. + </p> + <p> + And the wind was cold; it bathed the burning skin; laved the fevered + lungs. + </p> + <p> + Again the sky was split by the lightnings. And roaring down from it in + solid sheets came the rain. + </p> + <p> + From the Pit arose a hissing as though within it raged Babylonian Tiamat, + Mother of Chaos, serpent dweller in the void; Midgard-snake of the ancient + Norse holding in her coils the world. + </p> + <p> + Buffeted by wind, beaten down by rain, clinging to each other like + drowning men, Ventnor and I pushed on to the elfin globe. The light was + dying fast. By it we saw Drake pass within the portal with his burden. The + light became embers; it went out; blackness clasped us. Guided by the + lightnings, we beat our way to the door; passed through it. + </p> + <p> + In the electric glare we saw Drake bending over Ruth. In it I saw a slide + draw over the open portal through which shrieked the wind, streamed the + rain. + </p> + <p> + As though its crystal panel was moved by unseen, gentle hands, the portal + closed; the tempest shut out. + </p> + <p> + We dropped beside Ruth upon a pile of silken stuffs—awed, marveling, + trembling with pity and—thanksgiving. + </p> + <p> + For we knew—each of us knew with an absolute definiteness as we + crouched there among the racing, dancing black and silver shadows with + which the lightnings filled the blue globe—that the Metal Monster + was dead. + </p> + <p> + Slain by itself! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX. BURNED OUT + </h2> + <p> + Ruth sighed and stirred. By the glare of the lightnings, now almost + continuous, we saw that her rigidity, and in fact all the puzzling + cataleptic symptoms, had disappeared. Her limbs relaxed, her skin faintly + flushed, she lay in deepest but natural slumber undisturbed by the + incessant cannonading of the thunder under which the walls of the blue + globe shuddered. Ventnor passed through the curtains of the central hall; + he returned with one of Norhala's cloaks; covered the girl with it. + </p> + <p> + An overwhelming sleepiness took possession of me, a weariness ineffable. + Nerve and brain and muscle suddenly relaxed, went slack and numb. Without + a struggle I surrendered to an overpowering stupor and cradled deep in its + heart ceased consciously to be. + </p> + <p> + When my eyes unclosed the chamber of the moonstone walls was filled with a + silvery, crepuscular light. I heard the murmuring and laughing of running + water, the play, I lazily realized, of the fountained pool. + </p> + <p> + I lay for whole minutes unthinking, luxuriating in the sense of tension + gone and of security; lay steeped in the aftermath of complete rest. + Memory flooded me. + </p> + <p> + Quietly I sat up; Ruth still slept, breathing peacefully beneath the + cloak, one white arm stretched over the shoulder of Drake—as though + in her sleep she had drawn close to him. + </p> + <p> + At her feet lay Ventnor, as deep in slumber as they. I arose and tip-toed + over to the closed door. + </p> + <p> + Searching, I found its key; a cupped indentation upon which I pressed. + </p> + <p> + The crystalline panel slipped back; it was moved, I suppose, by some + mechanism of counterbalances responding to the weight of the hand. It must + have been some vibration of the thunder which had loosed that mechanism + and had closed the panel upon the heels of our entrance—so I thought—then + seeing again in memory that uncanny, deliberate shutting was not at all + convinced that it had been the thunder. + </p> + <p> + I looked out. How many hours the sun had been up there was no means of + knowing. + </p> + <p> + The sky was low and slaty gray; a fine rain was falling. I stepped out. + </p> + <p> + The garden of Norhala was a wreckage of uprooted and splintered trees and + torn masses of what had been blossoming verdure. + </p> + <p> + The gateway of the precipices beyond which lay the Pit was hidden in the + webs of the rain. Long I gazed down the canyon—and longingly; + striving to picture what the Pit now held; eager to read the riddles of + the night. + </p> + <p> + There came from the valley no sound, no movement, no light. + </p> + <p> + I reentered the blue globe and paused on the threshold—staring into + the wide and wondering eyes of Ruth bolt upright in her silken bed with + Norhala's cloak clutched to her chin like a suddenly awakened and startled + child. As she glimpsed me she stretched out her hand. Drake, wide awake on + the instant, leaped to his feet, his hand jumping to his pistol. + </p> + <p> + “Dick!” called Ruth, her voice tremulous, sweet. + </p> + <p> + He swung about, looked deep into the clear and fearless brown eyes in + which—with leaping heart I realized it—was throned only that + spirit which was Ruth's and Ruth's alone; Ruth's clear unshadowed eyes + glad and shy and soft with love. + </p> + <p> + “Dick!” she whispered, and held soft arms out to him. The cloak fell from + her. He swung her up. Their lips met. + </p> + <p> + Upon them, embraced, the wakening eyes of Ventnor dwelt; they filled with + relief and joy, nor was there lacking in them a certain amusement. + </p> + <p> + She drew from Drake's arms, pushed him from her, stood for a moment + shakily, with covered eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Ruth,” called Ventnor softly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she cried. “Oh, Martin—I forgot—” She ran to him, held + him tight, face hidden in his breast. His hand rested on the clustering + brown curls, tenderly. + </p> + <p> + “Martin.” She raised her face to him. “Martin, it's GONE! I'm—ME + again! All ME! What happened? Where's Norhala?” + </p> + <p> + I started. Did she not know? Of course, lying bound as she had in the + vanished veils, she could have seen nothing of the stupendous tragedy + enacted beyond them—but had not Ventnor said that possessed by the + inexplicable obsession evoked by the weird woman Ruth had seen with her + eyes, thought with her mind? + </p> + <p> + And had there not been evidence that in her body had been echoed the + torments of Norhala's? Had she forgotten? I started to speak—was + checked by Ventnor's swift, warning glance. + </p> + <p> + “She's—over in the Pit,” he answered her quietly. “But do you + remember nothing, little sister?” + </p> + <p> + “There's something in my mind that's been rubbed out,” she replied. “I + remember the City of Cherkis—and your torture, Martin—and my + torture—” + </p> + <p> + Her face whitened; Ventnor's brow contracted anxiously. I knew for what he + watched—but Ruth's shamed face was all human; on it was no shadow + nor trace of that alien soul which so few hours since had threatened us. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she nodded, “I remember that. And I remember how Norhala repaid + them. I remember that I was glad, fiercely glad, and then I was tired—so + tired. And then—I come to the rubbed-out place,” she ended + perplexedly. + </p> + <p> + Deliberately, almost banally had I not realized his purpose, he changed + the subject. He held her from him at arm's length. + </p> + <p> + “Ruth!” he exclaimed, half mockingly, half reprovingly. “Don't you think + your morning negligee is just a little scanty even for this Godforsaken + corner of the earth?” + </p> + <p> + Lips parted in sheer astonishment, she looked at him. Then her eyes + dropped to her bare feet, her dimpled knees. She clasped her arms across + her breasts; rosy red turned all her fair skin. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she gasped. “Oh!” And hid from Drake and me behind the tall figure + of her brother. + </p> + <p> + I walked over to the pile of silken stuffs, took the cloak and tossed it + to her. Ventnor pointed to the saddlebags. + </p> + <p> + “You've another outfit there, Ruth,” he said. “We'll take a turn through + the place. Call us when you're ready. We'll get something to eat and go + see what's happening—out there.” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. We passed through the curtains and out of the hall into the + chamber that had been Norhala's. There we halted, Drake eyeing Martin with + a certain embarrassment. The older man thrust out his hand to him. + </p> + <p> + “I knew it, Drake,” he said. “Ruth told me all about it when Cherkis had + us. And I'm very glad. It's time she was having a home of her own and not + running around the lost places with me. I'll miss her—miss her + damnably, of course. But I'm glad, boy—glad!” + </p> + <p> + There was a little silence while each looked deep into each other's + hearts. Then Ventnor dropped Dick's hand. + </p> + <p> + “And that's all of THAT,” he said. “The problem before us is—how are + we going to get back home?” + </p> + <p> + “The—THING—is dead.” I spoke from an absolute conviction that + surprised me, based as it was upon no really tangible, known evidence. + </p> + <p> + “I think so,” he said. “No—I KNOW so. Yet even if we can pass over + its body, how can we climb out of its lair? That slide down which we rode + with Norhala is unclimbable. The walls are unscalable. And there is that + chasm—she—spanned for us. How can we cross THAT? The tunnel to + the ruins was sealed. There remains of possible roads the way through the + forest to what was the City of Cherkis. Frankly I am loathe to take it. + </p> + <p> + “I am not at all sure that all the armored men were slain—that some + few may not have escaped and be lurking there. It would be short shrift + for us if we fell into their hands now.” + </p> + <p> + “And I'm not sure of THAT,” objected Drake. “I think their pep and push + must be pretty thoroughly knocked out—if any do remain. I think if + they saw us coming they'd beat it so fast that they'd smoke with the + friction.” + </p> + <p> + “There's something to that,” Ventnor smiled. “Still I'm not keen on taking + the chance. At any rate, the first thing to do is to see what happened + down there in the Pit. Maybe we'll have some other idea after that.” + </p> + <p> + “I know what happened there,” announced Drake, surprisingly. “It was a + short circuit!” + </p> + <p> + We gaped at him, mystified. + </p> + <p> + “Burned out!” said Drake. “Every damned one of them—burned out. What + were they, after all? A lot of living dynamos. Dynamotors—rather. + And all of a sudden they had too much juice turned on. Bang went their + insulations—whatever they were. + </p> + <p> + “Bang went they. Burned out—short circuited. I don't pretend to know + why or how. Nonsense! I do know. The cones were some kind of immensely + concentrated force—electric, magnetic; either or both or more. I + myself believe that they were probably solid—in a way of speaking—coronium. + </p> + <p> + “If about twenty of the greatest scientists the world has ever known are + right, coronium is—well, call it curdled energy. The electric + potentiality of Niagara in a pin point of dust of yellow fire. All right—they + or IT lost control. Every pin point swelled out into a Niagara. And as it + did so, it expanded from a controlled dust dot to an uncontrolled cataract—in + other words, its energy was unleashed and undammed. + </p> + <p> + “Very well—what followed? What HAD to follow? Every living battery + of block and globe and spike was supercharged and went—blooey. The + valley must have been some sweet little volcano while that short + circuiting was going on. All right—let's go down and see what it did + to your unclimbable slide and unscalable walls, Ventnor. I'm not sure we + won't be able to get out that way.” + </p> + <p> + “Come on; everything's ready,” Ruth was calling; her summoning blocked any + objection we might have raised to Drake's argument. + </p> + <p> + It was no dryad, no distressed pagan clad maid we saw as we passed back + into the room of the pool. In knickerbockers and short skirt, prim and + self-possessed, rebellious curls held severely in place by close-fitting + cap and slender feet stoutly shod, Ruth hovered over the steaming kettle + swung above the spirit lamp. + </p> + <p> + And she was very silent as we hastily broke fast. Nor when we had finished + did she go to Drake. She clung close to her brother and beside him as we + set forth down the roadway, through the rain, toward the ledge between the + cliffs where the veils had shimmered. + </p> + <p> + Hotter and hotter it grew as we advanced; the air steamed like a Turkish + bath. The mists clustered so thickly that at last we groped forward step + by step, holding to each other. + </p> + <p> + “No use,” gasped Ventnor. “We couldn't see. We'll have to turn back.” + </p> + <p> + “Burned out!” said Dick. “Didn't I tell you? The whole valley was a + volcano. And with that deluge falling in it—why wouldn't there be a + fog? It's why there IS a fog. We'll have to wait until it clears.” + </p> + <p> + We trudged back to the blue globe. + </p> + <p> + All that day the rain fell. Throughout the few remaining hours of daylight + we wandered over the house of Norhala, examining its most interesting + contents, or sat theorizing, discussing all phases of the phenomena we had + witnessed. + </p> + <p> + We told Ruth what had occurred after she had thrown in her lot with + Norhala; and of the enigmatic struggle between the glorious Disk and the + sullenly flaming Thing I have called the Keeper. + </p> + <p> + We told her of the entombment of Norhala. + </p> + <p> + When she heard that she wept. + </p> + <p> + “She was sweet,” she sobbed; “she was lovely. And she was beautiful. + Dearly she loved me. I KNOW she loved me. Oh, I know that we and ours and + that which was hers could not share the world together. But it comes to me + that Earth would have been far less poisonous with those that were + Norhala's than it is with us and ours!” + </p> + <p> + Weeping, she passed through the curtainings, going we knew to Norhala's + chamber. + </p> + <p> + It was a strange thing indeed that she had said, I thought, watching her + go. That the garden of the world would be far less poisonous blossoming + with those Things of wedded crystal and metal and magnetic fires than + fertile as now with us of flesh and blood and bone. To me came + appreciations of their harmonies, and mingled with those perceptions were + others of humanity—disharmonious, incoordinate, ever struggling, + ever striving to destroy itself— + </p> + <p> + There was a plaintive whinnying at the open door. A long and hairy face, a + pair of patient, inquiring eyes looked in. It was a pony. For a moment it + regarded us—and then trotted trustfully through; ambled up to us; + poked its head against my side. + </p> + <p> + It had been ridden by one of the Persians whom Ruth had killed, for under + it, slipped from the girths, a saddle dangled. And its owner must have + been kind to it—we knew that from its lack of fear for us. Driven by + the tempest of the night before, it had been led back by instinct to the + protection of man. + </p> + <p> + “Some luck!” breathed Drake. + </p> + <p> + He busied himself with the pony, stripping away the hanging saddle, + grooming it. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXI. SLAG! + </h2> + <p> + That night we slept well. Awakening, we found that the storm had grown + violent again; the wind roaring and the rain falling in such volume that + it was impossible to make our way to the Pit. Twice, as a matter of fact, + we tried; but the smooth roadway was a torrent, and, drenched even through + our oils to the skin, we at last abandoned the attempt. Ruth and Drake + drifted away together among the other chambers of the globe; they were + absorbed in themselves, and we did not thrust ourselves upon them. All the + day the torrents fell. + </p> + <p> + We sat down that night to what was well-nigh the last of Ventnor's stores. + Seemingly Ruth had forgotten Norhala; at least, she spoke no more of her. + </p> + <p> + “Martin,” she said, “can't we start back tomorrow? I want to get away. I + want to get back to our own world.” + </p> + <p> + “As soon as the storm ceases, Ruth,” he answered, “we start. Little sister—I + too want you to get back quickly.” + </p> + <p> + The next morning the storm had gone. We awakened soon after dawn into + clear and brilliant light. We had a silent and hurried breakfast. The + saddlebags were packed and strapped upon the pony. Within them were what + we could carry of souvenirs from Norhala's home—a suit of lacquered + armor, a pair of cloaks and sandals, the jeweled combs. Ruth and Drake at + the side of the pony, Ventnor and I leading, we set forth toward the Pit. + </p> + <p> + “We'll probably have to come back, Walter,” he said. “I don't believe the + place is passable.” + </p> + <p> + I pointed—we were then just over the threshold of the elfin globe. + Where the veils had stretched between the perpendicular pillars of the + cliffs was now a wide and ragged-edged opening. + </p> + <p> + The roadway which had run so smoothly through the scarps was blocked by a + thousand foot barrier. Over it, beyond it, I could see through the + crystalline clarity of the air the opposing walls. + </p> + <p> + “We can climb it,” Ventnor said. We passed on and reached the base of the + barrier. An avalanche had dropped there; the barricade was the debris of + the torn cliffs, their dust, their pebbles, their boulders. We toiled up; + we reached the crest; we looked down upon the valley. + </p> + <p> + When first we had seen it we had gazed upon a sea of radiance pierced with + lanced forests, swept with gigantic gonfalons of flame; we had seen it + emptied of its fiery mists—a vast slate covered with the chirography + of a mathematical god; we had seen it filled with the symboling of the + Metal Hordes and dominated by the colossal integrate hieroglyph of the + living City; we had seen it as a radiant lake over which brooded weird + suns; a lake of yellow flame froth upon which a sparkling hail fell, + within which reared islanded towers and a drowning mount running with + cataracts of sun fires; here we had watched a goddess woman, a being half + of earth, half of the unknown immured within a living tomb—a dying + tomb—of flaming mysteries; had seen a cross-shaped metal Satan, a + sullen flaming crystal Judas betray—itself. + </p> + <p> + Where we had peered into the unfathomable, had glimpsed the infinite, had + heard and had seen the inexplicable, now was— + </p> + <p> + Slag! + </p> + <p> + The amethystine ring from which had been streamed the circling veils was + cracked and blackened; like a seam of coal it had stretched around the Pit—a + crown of mourning. The veils were gone. The floor of the valley was + fissured and blackened; its patterns, its writings burned away. As far as + we could see stretched a sea of slag—coal black, vitrified and dead. + </p> + <p> + Here and there black hillocks sprawled; huge pillars arose, bent and + twisted as though they had been jettings of lava cooled into rigidity + before they could sink back or break. These shapes clustered most thickly + around an immense calcified mound. They were what were left of the + battling Hordes, and the mound was what had been the Metal Monster. + </p> + <p> + Somewhere there were the ashes of Norhala, sealed by fire in the urn of + the Metal Emperor! + </p> + <p> + From side to side of the Pit, in broken beaches and waves and hummocks, in + blackened, distorted tusks and warped towerings, reaching with hideous + pathos in thousands of forms toward the charred mound, was only slag. + </p> + <p> + From rifts and hollows still filled with water little wreaths of steam + drifted. In those futile wraiths of vapor was all that remained of the + might of the Metal Monster. + </p> + <p> + Catastrophe I had expected, tragedy I knew we would find—but I had + looked for nothing so filled with the abomination of desolation, so + frightful as was this. + </p> + <p> + “Burned out!” muttered Drake. “Short-circuited and burned out! Like a + dynamo—like an electric light!” + </p> + <p> + “Destiny!” said Ventnor. “Destiny! Not yet was the hour struck for man to + relinquish his sovereignty over the world. Destiny!” + </p> + <p> + We began to pick our way down the heaped debris and out upon the plain. + For all that day and part of another we searched for an opening out of the + Pit. + </p> + <p> + Everywhere was the incredible calcification. The surfaces that had been + the smooth metallic carapaces with the tiny eyes deep within them, + crumbled beneath the lightest blow. Not long would it be until under wind + and rain they dissolved into dust and mud. + </p> + <p> + And it grew increasingly obvious that Drake's theory of the destruction + was correct. The Monster had been one prodigious magnet—or, rather, + a prodigious dynamo. By magnetism, by electricity, it had lived and had + been activated. + </p> + <p> + Whatever the force of which the cones were built and that I have likened + to energy-made material, it was certainly akin to electromagnetic + energies. + </p> + <p> + When, in the cataclysm, that force was diffused there had been created a + magnetic field of incredible intensity; had been concentrated an electric + charge of inconceivable magnitude. + </p> + <p> + Discharging, it had blasted the Monster—short-circuited it, and + burned it out. + </p> + <p> + But what was it that had led up to the cataclysm? What was it that had + turned the Metal Monster upon itself? What disharmony had crept into that + supernal order to set in motion the machinery of disintegration? + </p> + <p> + We could only conjecture. The cruciform Shape I have named the Keeper was + the agent of destruction—of that there could be no doubt. In the + enigmatic organism which while many still was one and which, retaining its + integrity as a whole could dissociate manifold parts yet still as a whole + maintain an unseen contact and direction over them through miles of space, + the Keeper had its place, its work, its duties. + </p> + <p> + So too had that wondrous Disk whose visible and concentrate power, whose + manifest leadership, had made us name it emperor. + </p> + <p> + And had not Norhala called the Disk—Ruler? + </p> + <p> + What were the responsibilities of these twain to the mass of the organism + of which they were such important units? What were the laws they + administered, the laws they must obey? + </p> + <p> + Something certainly of that mysterious law which Maeterlinck has called + the spirit of the Hive—and something infinitely greater, like that + which governs the swarming sun bees of Hercules' clustered orbs. + </p> + <p> + Had there evolved within the Keeper of the Cones—guardian and + engineer as it seemed to have been—ambition? + </p> + <p> + Had there risen within it a determination to wrest power from the Disk, to + take its place as Ruler? + </p> + <p> + How else explain that conflict I had sensed when the Emperor had plucked + Drake and me from the Keeper's grip that night following the orgy of the + feeding? + </p> + <p> + How else explain that duel in the shattered Hall of the Cones whose end + had been the signal for the final cataclysm? + </p> + <p> + How else explain the alinement of the cubes behind the Keeper against the + globes and pyramids remaining loyal to the will of the Disk? + </p> + <p> + We discussed this, Ventnor and I. + </p> + <p> + “This world,” he mused, “is a place of struggle. Air and sea and land and + all things that dwell within and on them must battle for life. Earth not + Mars is the planet of war. I have a theory”—he hesitated—“that + the magnetic currents which are the nerve force of this globe of ours were + what fed the Metal Things. + </p> + <p> + “Within those currents is the spirit of earth. And always they have been + supercharged with strife, with hatreds, warfare. Were these drawn in by + the Things as they fed? Did it happen that the Keeper became—TUNED—to + them? That it absorbed and responded to them, growing even more sensitive + to these forces—until it reflected humanity?” + </p> + <p> + “Who knows, Goodwin—who can tell?” + </p> + <p> + Enigma, unless the explanations I have hazarded be accepted, must remain + that monstrous suicide. Enigma, save for inconclusive theories, must + remain the question of the Monster's origin. + </p> + <p> + If answers there were, they were lost forever in the slag we trod. + </p> + <p> + It was afternoon of the second day that we found a rift in the blasted + wall of the valley. We decided to try it. We had not dared to take the + road by which Norhala had led us into the City. + </p> + <p> + The giant slide was broken and climbable. But even if we could have passed + safely through the tunnel of the abyss there still was left the chasm over + which we could have thrown no bridge. And if we could have bridged it + still at that road's end was the cliff whose shaft Norhala had sealed with + her lightnings. + </p> + <p> + So we entered the rift. + </p> + <p> + Of our wanderings thereafter I need not write. From the rift we emerged + into a maze of the valleys, and after a month in that wilderness, living + upon what game we could shoot, we found a road that led us into Gyantse. + </p> + <p> + In another six weeks we were home in America. + </p> + <p> + My story is finished. + </p> + <p> + There in the Trans-Himalayan wilderness is the blue globe that was the + weird home of the lightning witch—and looking back I feel now she + could not have been all woman. + </p> + <p> + There is the vast pit with its coronet of fantastic peaks; its symboled, + calcined floor and the crumbling body of the inexplicable, the incredible + Thing which, alive, was the shadow of extinction, annihilation, hovering + to hurl itself upon humanity. That shadow is gone; that pall withdrawn. + </p> + <p> + But to me—to each of us four who saw those phenomena—their + lesson remains, ineradicable; giving a new strength and purpose to us, + teaching us a new humility. + </p> + <p> + For in that vast crucible of life of which we are so small a part, what + other Shapes may even now be rising to submerge us? + </p> + <p> + In that vast reservoir of force that is the mystery-filled infinite + through which we roll, what other shadows may be speeding upon us? + </p> + <p> + Who knows? + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Metal Monster, by A. 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