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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 18:16:43 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 18:16:43 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/68378-0.txt~ b/68378-0.txt~ new file mode 100644 index 0000000..547418b --- /dev/null +++ b/68378-0.txt~ @@ -0,0 +1,2603 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 68378 *** + + WAY OF THE GODS + + By HENRY KUTTNER + + _Spawn of atomic fission, this strange company + of mutants exiled by humanity battles against + enslavement in a foreign world dominated by + the evil Spirit of the Crystal Mountain!_ + + [Transcriber’s Note: This etext was produced from + Thrilling Wonder Stories, April 1947. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that + the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] + + + + + CHAPTER I + + _New Worlds_ + + +He looked at the October morning all about him as if he had never seen +October before. That was not true, of course. But he knew that he would +never see it again. Unless they had mornings, and Octobers—where he was +going. It did not seem likely, though the old man had talked a great +deal about key-patterns and the selectivity of the machine, and the +multiple universes spinning like motes in a snowstorm through infinity. + +“But I’m human!” he said aloud, sitting cross-legged on the warm brown +earth and feeling the breeze which gave the lie instantly to his +thought. He felt the gentle pull at his shoulder-blades which meant that +his wings were fluttered a little by the breeze, and instinctively he +flexed the heavy bands of muscle across his chest to control the +wing-surfaces. + +He was not human. That was the trouble. And this world, this bright +October world that stretched to the horizon around him was made to +shelter the race that had become dominant, and was jealous of its +dominion. Humanity, that had no place for strangers among its ranks. + +The others did not seem to care very much. They had been reared in the +creche almost from birth, under a special regime that isolated them from +the humans. The old man had been responsible for that. He had built the +huge house on the hillside, swooping curves of warmly-colored plastic +that blended into the brown and green of the land—an asylum that had +finally failed. The walls were breached. + +“Kern,” someone behind him said. + +The winged man turned his head, glancing up past the dark curve of his +wings. A girl came toward him down the slope from the house. Her name +was Kua. Her parents had been Polynesian, and she had the height and the +lithe grace of her Oceanic race, and the shining dark hair, the warm, +honey-colored skin. But she wore opaque dark glasses, and across her +forehead a band of dark plastic that looked opaque too, and was not. +Beneath, her face was lovely, the red mouth generously curved, the +features softly rounded like the features of all her race. + +She was not human either. + +“It’s no use worrying, Kern,” she said, smiling down at him. “It’ll work +out all right. You’ll see.” + +“All right!” Kern snorted scornfully. “You think so, do you?” + +Kua glanced instinctively around the hillside, making sure they were +alone. Then she put both hands to her face and slipped off the glasses +and the dark band from her forehead. Kern, meeting the gaze of her +bright blue eye, was conscious again of the little shock he always felt +when he looked into her uncovered face. + +For Kua was a cyclops. She had one eye centered in her forehead. And she +was—when the mind could accept her as she was, not as she should be—a +beautiful woman in spite of it. That blue brilliance in the dusky face +had a depth and luster beyond the eyes of humans. Heavy lashes ringed +it, and the gaze could sink fathom upon fathom in her eye and never +plumb its depths. + + * * * * * + +Kua’s eye was a perfect lens. Whatever lens can do, her eye could do. No +one could be sure just what miraculous mechanisms existed beyond the +blue surface, but she could see to a distance almost beyond the range of +the ordinary telescope and she could focus down upon the microscopic. +And there may have been other things the single eye could do. One did +not question one’s companions too closely in this house of the +mutations. + +“You’ve been with us two years, Kern,” she was saying now. “Only two +years. You don’t know yet how strong we are, or how much we can +accomplish among us. Bruce Hallam knows what he’s doing, Kern. He never +works on theories. Or if he does, the theories become truth. He has a +mind like that. You don’t know us, Kern!” + +“You can’t fight a whole world.” + +“No. But we can leave it.” She smiled, and he knew she saw nothing of +the golden morning all around them. She knew nothing, really, of the +cities that dotted the world of 1980, or the lives that were so +irrevocably alien to her. They should have been alien to Kern too, but +not until he was eighteen had the wings begun to grow upon his +shoulders. + +“I don’t know, Kua,” he said. “I’m not sure I want to. I had a father +and a mother—brothers—friends.” + +“Your parents are your greatest enemies,” she told him flatly. “They +gave you life.” + +He looked away from the penetrating stare of that great blue single eye +and past her at the big plastic house. That had been asylum, after the +massacre of 1967—asylum against the hordes bent on extirpating the +freakish monsters created by atomic radiation. He could not remember, of +course, but he had read about it, never guessing then that such a thing +would ever apply to him. The old man had told him the story. + +First had come the atomic war, brief, terrible, letting loose nameless +radiations upon the world. And then had followed the wave upon wave of +freak births among those exposed to it. Genes and chromosomes altered +beyond comprehension. Monstrous things were born of human parents. + +One in ten, perhaps, had been a successful mutation. And even those were +dangerous to homo sapiens. + +Evolution is like a roulette wheel. The conditions of the earth favor +certain types of mutation capable of survival. But atomic energies had +upset the balance, and mutations spawned in sheer madness began to +spread. Not many, of course. Not many were viable. But two-headed things +were born—and lived—along with geniuses and madmen. World Council had +studied the biological and social problem for a long time before it +recommended euthanasia. Man’s evolution had been planned and charted. It +must not be allowed to swerve from the track, or chaos would be let +loose. + +Geniuses, mutant humans with abnormally high I.Q.’s, were allowed to +survive. Of the others, none lived after they had been detected. +Sometimes they were difficult to detect. By 1968 only the true-line +mutations, faithful to the human biological norm, were alive—with +certain exceptions. + + * * * * * + +Such as the old man’s son, Sam Brewster. He was a freak, with a +certain—talent. A superhuman talent. The old man had disobeyed the +Government law, for he had not sent the infant to the labs for checking +and testing—and annihilation. Instead, he had built this great house, +and the boy had never gone far beyond its grounds. + +Gradually then, partly to provide the youth with companionship, partly +out of compassion, the father had begun to gather others together. +Secretly, a mutant infant here, a mutant child there, he brought them +in, until he had a family of freaks in the big plastic house. He had not +taken them haphazardly. Some would not have been safe to live with. Some +were better dead from the start But those with something to offer beyond +their freakishness, he found and sheltered. + +It was the bringing in of Kern that gave the secret away. The boy had +gone too long among ordinary humans, while his wings grew. He was +eighteen, and his pinions had a six-foot spread, when old Mr. Brewster +found him. His family had tried to keep him hidden, but the news was +leaking out already when he left for the Brewster asylum, and in the +years since it had spread until the authorities at last issued their +ultimatum. + +“It was my fault,” Kern said bitterly. “If it hadn’t been for me, you’d +never have been molested.” + +“No.” Kua’s deep, luminous eye fixed his. “Sooner or later you know +they’d have found us. Better let it happen now, while we’re all still +young and adaptable. We can go and enjoy going, now.” Her voice shook a +little with deep excitement. “Think of it, Kern! New worlds! Places +beyond the earth, where there could be people like us!” + +“But Kua, I’m human! I feel human. I don’t want to leave. This is where +I belong!” + +“You say that because you grew up among normal people. Kern, you’ve got +to face it. Tire only place for any of us is—somewhere away.” + +“I know.” He grinned wryly. “But I don’t have to like it. Well—we’d +better go back. They’ll have the ultimatum by now, I suppose. May as +well hear it. I know what the answer is. Don’t you?” + +She nodded, watching his involuntary glance around the empty blue sky, +the warm October hills. A world for humans. But for humans alone.... + +Back in the Brewster plastic asylum, the inmates had assembled. + +“There isn’t much time,” old Mr. Brewster said. “They’re on their way +here now, to take you all back for euthanasia.” + +Sam Brewster laughed harshly. + +“We could show ’em a few tricks.” + +“No. You can’t fight the whole world. You could kill many of them, but +it wouldn’t do any good. Bruce’s machine is the only hope for you all.” +His voice broke a little. “It’s going to be a lonely world for me, +children, after you’ve gone.” + +They looked at him uncomfortably, this strange, unrelated family of +freak mutations, scarcely more than the children he had called them, but +matured beyond their years by their strange rearing. + +“There are worlds beyond counting, as you know,” Bruce said precisely. +“Infinite numbers—worlds where we might not be freaks at all. Somewhere +among them there must be places where each of our mutations is a norm. +I’ve set the machine to the aggregate pattern of us all and it’ll find +our equivalents—something to suit one of us at least. And the others +can go on looking. I can build the machine in duplicate on any world, +anywhere, where I can live at all.” He smiled, and his strange light +eyes glowed. + +It was curious, Kern thought, how frequently in mutations the eyes were +the giveaway. Kua, of course. And Sam Brewster with his terrible veiled +glance protected by its secondary lid which drew back only in anger. And +Bruce Hallam, whose strangeness was not visible but existed only in the +amazing intricacies of his brain, looked upon the alien world with eyes +that mirrored the mysteries behind them. + +Bruce knew machinery—call it machinery for lack of a more comprehensive +word—with a knowledge that was beyond learning. He could produce +miracles with any set of devices his fingers could contrive. He seemed +to sense by sheer instinct the courses of infinite power, and harness +them with the simplest ease, the simplest mechanics. + +There was a steel cubicle in the corner of the room with a round steel +door which had taken Bruce a week to set up. Over it a panel burned with +changing light, flickering through the spectrum and halting now and then +upon clear red. When it was red, then the—the world—upon which the +steel door opened was a world suitable for the little family of +mutations to enter. The red light meant it could support human life, +that it paralleled roughly the world they already knew, and that +something in its essential pattern duplicated the pattern of at least +one of the mutant group. + +Kern was dizzy when he thought of the sweep of universes past that door, +world whirling upon world where no human life could dwell, worlds of gas +and flame, worlds of ice and rock. And, one in a countless number, a +world of sun and water like their own.... + + * * * * * + +It was incredible. But so were the wings at his own back, so was Kua’s +cyclopean eye, and Sam Brewster’s veiled gaze, and so was the brain in +Bruce Hallam’s skull, which had built a bridge for them all. + +He glanced around the group. Sitting back against the wall, in shadow, +Byrna, the last of the mutant family, lifted her gray gaze to his. +Compassion touched him as always when he met her eyes. + +Byrna was physically the most abnormal of them all, in her sheer +smallness. She came scarcely to Kern’s elbow when she was standing. She +was proportioned perfectly in the scale of her size, delicate, fragile +as something of glass. But she was not beautiful to look at. There was a +wrongness about her features that made them pathetically ugly, and the +sadness in her gray eyes seemed to mirror the sadness of all misfit +things. + +Byrna’s voice had magic in it, and so did her brain. Wisdom came as +simply to her as knowledge came to Bruce Hallam, but she had infinitely +more warmth than he. Bruce, Kern sometimes thought, would dismember a +human as dispassionately as he would cut wire in two if he needed the +material for an experiment. Bruce looked the most normal of them all, +but he would not have passed the questioning of the most superficial +mental examination. + +Now his voice was impatient. “What are we waiting for? Everything’s +ready.” + +“Yes, you must go quickly,” the old man said. “Look—the light’s coming +toward red now, isn’t it?” + +The panel above the steel door was orange. As they watched it shifted +and grew ruddier. Bruce went silently forward and laid his hand on the +lever that opened the panel. When the light was pure red he pushed the +steel bar down. + +In half-darkness beyond the opening a gust of luminous atoms blew across +a craggy horizon. Against it there was a suggestion of towers and arches +and columns, and lights that might have been aircraft swung in steady +orbits above. + +No one spoke. After a moment Bruce closed the door again, grimacing. The +light above it hovered toward a reddish purple and then turned blue. + +“Not that world,” Bruce said. “We’ll try again.” + +In the shadow Byrna murmured: + +“It doesn’t matter—any world will be the same for us.” Her voice was +pure music. + +“Listen! Do you hear planes?” the old man said. “It’s time, children. +You must go.” + +There was silence. Every eye watched the lighted panel. Colors hovered +there to and fro through the spectrum. A faint ruddiness began to glow +again. + +“This time we’ll take it if it looks all right,” Bruce said, and laid +his hand again upon the lever. + +The light turned red. Soundlessly the round door swung open. + +Sunlight came through, low green hills, and the clustered roofs of a +town were visible a little distance away in a valley. + +Without a word or a backward glance Bruce stepped through the door. One +by one the others moved after him, Kern last. Kern’s lips were pressed +together and he did not glance behind him. He could have seen the hills +of earth beyond the windows, and the blue October sky. He would not look +at them. He shrugged his wings together and stooped to enter the gateway +of the new world. + +Behind them the old man watched in silence, seeing the work of his +lifetime ending before his eyes. The gulf between them was too broad for +leaping. He was human and they were not. Across a vast distance, vaster +than the gulf between worlds, he saw the family of the mutations step +over their threshold and vanish forever. + +He closed the door after them. The red light faded above it. He turned +toward his own door where the knocking of World Council’s police had +already begun to summon him to his accounting. + + + + + CHAPTER II + + _His Own Kind_ + + +Above them, the sky was blue. The five aliens who were alien to all +worlds alike stood together on a hilltop looking down. + +“It’s beautiful,” Kua said. “I’m glad we chose this one. But I wonder +what the next one would have been like if we could have waited.” + +“It will be the same no matter where we go,” Byrna’s infinitely sweet +voice murmured. + +“Look at the horizon,” Bruce said. “What is it?” + +They saw then the first thing that marked this world alien to earth. For +the most part it might have been any hilly wooded land they knew from +the old place; even the roofs of the village looked spuriously familiar. +But the horizon was curiously misted, and before them, far off, +rose—something—to an impossible height halfway up the zenith. + +“A mountain?” Kern asked doubtfully. “It’s too high, isn’t it?” + +“A glass mountain,” Kua said. “Yes, it is glass—or plastic? I can’t be +sure.” + +She had uncovered her single eye and the shining pupil was contracted as +she gazed over impossible distances at the equally impossible bulk of +that thing on the horizon. It rose in a vast sweep of opalescent color, +like a translucent thundercloud hanging over the whole land. Knowing it +for a mountain, the mind felt vertiginous at the thought of such +tremendous bulk towering overhead. + +“It looks clear,” Kua said. “All the way through. I can’t tell what’s +beyond it. Just an enormous mountain made out of—of plastic? I wonder.” + +Kern was aware of a tugging at his wing-surfaces, and glanced around in +quick recognition of the strengthening breeze. He was the first to +notice it. + +“It’s beginning to blow. And listen—do you hear?” + +It grew louder as they stood there, a shrill, strengthening whine in the +air coming from the direction of the cloudlike mountain. A whine that +grew so rapidly they had scarcely recognized it as noise before it was +deafening all about them, and the wind was like a sudden hurricane. + +That passed in a gust, noise and wind alike, leaving them breathless and +staring at one another in dismay. + +“Look, over there, quick!” Kua said, “Another one’s coming!” + +Far off, but moving toward them with appalling speed, came a monstrous +spinning tower of—light? Smoke? They could not be sure. + +It whirled like a waterspout in a typhoon, vast, bending majestically +and righting itself again, and the air spun with it, and the wild, +shrill screaming began again. + +The vortex of brilliance passed them far to the left, catching them in +its shrieking hurricane of riven air and then releasing them again into +shaken silence. But there was another one on its way before they had +caught their breath again, a whirling, bowing tower that spun screeching +off toward the right. And after it another, and close behind that, a +fourth. + +The noise and the violence of the wind stunned Kern so that he had no +idea what was happening to the others on the hilltop. He was susceptible +because of his wings. The hurricane caught him up and whirled him +sideward down the slope—shrieking in his ears with a noise so great it +was almost silence, beyond the range of sound. + +Stunned, he struggled for balance, leaning against the rushing wall of +air as solid as a wall of stone. For a moment or two he kept the ground +underfoot. Then his wings betrayed him and, in spite of himself, he felt +the six-foot pinions blown wide and the muscles ached across his chest +with the violence of the wind striking their spread surfaces. + +The horizon tilted familiarly as he swooped in a banking curve. The +glass mountain for a moment hung overhead and he looked straight down at +the wooded hills, seeing tiny blowing figures reeling across the slopes +in the grip of the hurricane winds. Hanging here far above the treetops, +he could see that the monsters of whirling light were coming thicker and +faster across the hilltops, striding like giants, trailing vortices of +wind and sound in their wake. For an instant he swung in the grip of the +hurricane, watching the vast whirling spindles moving and bowing +majestically across the face of the new earth. + +Then the vortex caught him again and he was spun blindly into the heart +of the whirlwind, deafened with its terrible screaming uproar, wrenched +this way and that upon aching wings, too dizzy for fear or thought. Time +ceased. Half senseless, he was whirled to and fro upon the irresistible +winds. He closed his eyes against flying dust, locked his hands over his +ears to shut out the deafening shrill of the blast and let the hurricane +do with him as it would. + +Kern felt a hand on his arm and roused himself out of a half-stupor. + +He thought, I must be on the ground again, and made an instinctive +effort to sit up. The motion threw him into a ludicrous spin and he +opened his eyes wide to see the earth whirling far below him. + +He was coasting at terrific speed through the upper air upon a cold, +screaming highway of wind, and moving easily beside him, riding on broad +pinions like his own, a girl paralleled his flight. + + * * * * * + +Long pale hair streamed behind her away from her blue-eyed face, whipped +to pinkness by the blast. She was calling something to him, but the +words were snatched from her lips by the wind and he heard nothing +except that shrill, continuous howling all around them. He could see +that she held him by one arm, and with her free hand was pointing +downward vehemently. He could not hear her words, and knew he probably +could not understand them if he did, but the gesture’s meaning he could +not mistake. + +Nodding, he shrugged his left wing high and arched his body for a long +downward spiral toward the ground. The girl turned with him, and +together they glided sidewise across the rushing air-currents, +delicately tacking against the wind, picking their way by instinctive +muscular reactions of the spread pinions, while below them the ground +swayed and turned like a fluid sea. + +[Illustration: Together they glided across the rushing air currents.] + +Kern glided downward on a wave of exultation like nothing he had ever +experienced before in his life. He knew little about this world or about +the girl beside him, but one thing stood out clearly—he was no longer +alone. No longer the only winged being on an alien planet. And this long +downward glide, like the motion of perfect dancers responding each to +the other’s most delicate motion, was the most satisfying thing he had +ever known. + +For the first time he realized one of the great secrets of a flying +race—to fly alone is to know only half the joy of flying. When another +winged being moves beside you on the airways, speed matching speed, +wings beating as one, then at last you taste the full ecstasy of flight. + +Kern was breathless with joy and excitement when the ground swooped up +at them and he banked against the rush of his glide. With suddenly +fluttering wings, he reversed his position in the air and felt with both +feet for the solid earth. He had to run a little to cut down his speed, +and the girl ran beside him, breathless and laughing a bit as she ran. + +When they came to a halt and swung to face one another the long ashen +hair blew forward in a cloud that had caught up with her at last, and +she fought it, laughing, and brushed back the tangled mass with both +hands, the pale wings the exact color of her hair folding back from her +shoulders. + +He saw now that she wore a tight tunic of some very fine, supple +leather, and long tight boots of the same material. The hilt of a +jeweled knife stood up against her ribs from a jeweled belt. + +Around them the wind still blew cold and shrill, but the blast of it was +slackening noticeably and warmth was creeping back little by little into +the air. They stood on a wooded hill, under trees whose whipping +branches added to the tumult of noise, and Kern could see a broad vista +of the land before him, with no more of the vast bending giants of the +hurricane moving across it. The storm must be over, he thought. + +The girl spoke. She had a pleasant contralto voice, and the language she +spoke was slightly guttural and of course entirely strange. Kern saw the +surprise and doubt on her face when she saw that he did not understand +her. + +“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re a pretty thing. I wish we could talk to +each other.” + +She matched his smile, but the bewilderment deepened on her face. + +Kern thought, She can’t believe I don’t know her language. Could that +mean there’s only one tongue spoken in this world? It’s wishful +thinking—I want so much to believe it! Because that might mean the +people here are all winged, and move around so easily that separate +languages haven’t had a chance to evolve. + +His heart was beating faster, with an eagerness that he found a little +ludicrous. He had never suspected even in his own dreams how much it +would mean to him to belong at last to a race that could accept him as +one of its own. Bruce Hallam had set his machine in the aggregate +pattern of the whole mutant group, knowing as he did so how unlikely it +was that more than one of them could hope for an equivalent world on a +single planet. But Bruce’s skill being what it was, Kern told himself +there was no reason to be surprised that the expected had happened. + +This world was his own. A winged world. He was luckiest and first of the +group to find a place where he belonged. Exultation closed up his throat +with the joy of being no longer alien. + +“Or maybe I’m building too much on one example,” he warned himself +aloud. “Are we all winged in this world, girl? Say something, quick. I +want to learn your language! Answer me, girl—are you an alien too, or +is this the world where I belong?” + +She laughed at him, recognizing the half-serious tone of his voice +though the words meant nothing. And then her glance went across his +shoulder, and a look of subtle withdrawal crossed her face. She said +something in her guttural tongue and nodded toward the trees behind +Kern. + +He turned. A third winged figure was walking toward them under the +still-roaring trees, wings whipped by the wind until the newcomer +staggered now and then when the full blast caught him. + + * * * * * + +Kern was aware at first only of profound thankfulness. Another winged +person was almost the answer to his remaining doubt. Where there were +two, surely there must be many. + +This was a man. Like the girl, he wore thin, tight leather and a dagger +at his belt. His hair was red, and so were his silky wings, but his face +was duskily tanned and Kern caught the flash of sidelong, light eyes as +the man approached them. He saw, too, in another moment, that the +newcomer was a hunchback. Between the shining reddish wings the man’s +back was slightly crooked, so that he looked up at them with his head +awry. He had a young face, with beautiful clear planes, beneath the +darkness of his tan. + +“Gerd—” the girl called, and then hesitated. He flashed the light eyes +at her, and Kern decided it was probably his name. + +The pale gaze moved back to Kern, and watched him searchingly as the +hunchback fought the wind to the shelter of their tree. The man was +wary, ready for distrust before he so much as saw Kern’s face. It was +odd, in a way. + +They talked, the girl excitedly in her contralto voice, guttural words +tumbling over each other. Gerd’s answers were brief, in an unexpectedly +deep tone. Presently he unsheathed his dagger and with it gestured +toward Kern and the valley below them. + +Kern bristled a little. There was no need for threats. If these people +were still in a state of undevelopment where knives were their customary +weapon, he was far beyond them in some ways at least. It was not a +pleasant introduction to this world, where he felt himself already +native, to have those first directions pointed out with a bare blade. + +The girl, seeing his scowl, laughed gently and came forward to take his +arm. She gestured Gerd away with her other hand, and he smiled grimly +and stood back. The girl fluttered her wings a little and made a +swooping gesture of her hand to indicate flight. She pointed to the +valley. Then she stepped away to the brow of the hill, unfolded her +wings, tested the dying wind with them, and leaned forward with sublime +confidence into the void. + +The updraft caught her beneath the pinions and bore her aloft on a +beautiful sweep, her pale hair blowing like a banner. In midair she +twisted to beckon, and Kern laughed in sheer delight and ran to follow +her, spreading his dark wings so that at the fourth stride, with a leap, +suddenly he was airborne. It was a glorious feeling to fly without shame +or need of concealment. He scarcely heard the beat of wings behind him +as the hunchback took to the air in their wake. The joy of flying in +company was great enough just now to shut out all other thoughts from +Kern’s mind. + +They swept high along the slow-running river of wind over a winding +valley. Kern, watching for the companions with whom he had entered this +wonderful world, saw no motion at all among the trees they soared over. +He caught sight presently of a cluster of roofs far ahead, at the top of +the valley, built around a stream that wound to and fro among the +houses, and was filled with excited speculation as they neared the +village. + +My people, he thought. My own people. What kind of a town will it be, +and what sort of culture? How fast can I learn the language? There’s so +much to find out. + +The thought broke in his mind. For something—he had no name for it—was +stirring very strangely through his body. + +For an instant the whole airy world went blind around him. It was as if +a new pair of lungs had opened up within him and he had drawn a deep, +full breath of such air as no human ever tasted before. It was as if new +eyes had opened in his head and he had looked on a new dimension with +multiple sight. It was like neither of these, nor was it like anything a +man ever experienced before. New, new, inexpressibly new! + +And it was gone. + +In flight Kern staggered a little, his wings forgetting to beat the +sustaining air. The thing had come and gone so quickly, and yet it was +not a wholly unfamiliar thing, after all. Once before something like it +had happened. Something, different, but at the time heart-breakingly +new. It was when he first felt the wings thrust out upon his shoulders. +When he first felt the change within himself that cut him off from +mankind. + +“Am I changing again?” he asked himself fiercely. “Isn’t the mutation +over yet? I won’t change! I belong here now—I won’t let anything spoil +that!” + +The feeling was gone. He could not remember even now what it had been +actually like. He would not change! He would fight change while breath +remained in him. Whatever strange new mutation struggled now for being +in his mysterious flesh he would strangle before he let it come between +him and these people with wings. + +It had gone, now. He would forget it. It should be as if it had never +happened. + + + + + CHAPTER III + + _Gathering Danger_ + + +Sunlight winked from the diamond-paned windows of the village. They +circled above the rooftops and came in against the wind for a landing on +the high, flat roof of the central building, its open square paved with +tiles painted in bright, crude pictures of flying men and women. + +From above Kern could see the cobbled streets winding narrowly past +overhanging eaves, little stone bridges arching the stream that gushed +rapidly down through the village. Flowers were bright in narrow, ordered +bands around the houses. There were steep streets that rose in steps +around the curves of the hill upon which the town was based. + +The roofs were steeply pitched, arguing a heavy snowfall in winter, but +each of them had a landing area on the highest part of the house, +usually facing a low door let into a gable. And Kern’s last doubt +departed. This was indeed a village of flying people. He had come into +his own world at last. + +His content lasted about five minutes. + +Then they came down upon the brightly tiled landing-roof of what was +probably the townhall, and Kern, already fluttering his wings for a +landing, saw something that made him instinctively tighten the +chest-muscles that controlled his wings so that they stiffened into +broad pinions again. He soared and made a second circle about the +rooftop. + +The girl had reversed herself and was reaching with one foot for a +landing when she saw what had startled him. She laughed and looked up, +beckoning through the cloud of her settling hair. + +Kern made a third circle, fighting the updraft among the houses while he +looked down dubiously at the two dead men sprawled upon the roof. Both +were young and both were winged. The girl walked delicately by them as +if they were not there, settling her wings precisely. She stepped over +the pool of blood, still liquid, that ran from a wound in the nearer +man’s neck, streaked across the width of his quiet pinion, and that +puddled the brilliant tiles with a color of even brighter hue. + +There was a measured beating of the air above Kern, and he looked up to +see the hunchback hovering on silky red wings above him. Sunlight +flashed on a bared knife-blade. Gerd gestured down. And there was +something about his poise in the air, the way he handled his muscular, +twisted body, that warned Kern not to precipitate a struggle. It +occurred to him for the first time that fighting in midair must be an +art requiring skills he had never learned—yet. + +Gingerly he circled again and came down very lightly at the edge of the +roof, holding his wings half-open until he was sure of his footing. The +girl was waiting for him. She smiled, her blue glance flicking the dead +men. Then she slapped her own dagger significantly, glanced at the +bodies and back at Kern, and with a careless beckoning motion turned to +enter the roof door. + +A little dazed, Kern followed. Did she mean she herself had killed them? +What extraordinary sort of culture had he found ready-made for him here? +The first doubts stirring in his mind, he stooped his wings under the +door-frame and groped down a narrow, curving stairway behind the +floating hair of his guide. Behind him he heard Gerd’s feet thump +uncompromisingly from step to step. + +Voices came up the stair-well as they descended. At the bottom of the +flight Kern followed the girl into a big stone-paved room, +low-ceilinged, smoky from the fire that blazed in a huge cavern of +whitewashed brick at one end of the roof. + +The room was full of the living and the dead. Bewildered. Kern glanced +about at the winged bodies which had obviously been dragged carelessly +out of the center of the room and heaped against the walls. Blood lay in +coagulating pools here and there on the flags. The men about the +fireplace seemed to be debating something in loud voices. They looked up +sharply as the girl entered. Then there was a clattering rush and a +clamor of guttural voices as they hurried to greet her. + +Kern made out one word among their sentences that seemed to be her name. + +“Elje—Elje!” + +Their voices echoed under the low ceiling, their wings made a rustle and +soft clatter as they shouldered together around her. If it had not been +for the unconsidered dead at their feet, Kern would have been happy +without reservation, knowing at last beyond any doubt that this was a +world of the winged. + +They were talking about him, obviously. Elje, braiding her disordered +hair, spoke rapidly and glanced from Kern to her companions and back +again. Kern did not wholly like the looks of the men. Without wings, +they would have seemed an undisciplined, violent group. Their faces were +scarred and weather-beaten. All of them wore knives, and they had +clearly been in a hard fight within the last few hours. + +Among the dead on the floor there were men without wings. There were +also, he saw now, a few women, some winged, some not. Two races? Somehow +he surmised that was not true; there was a subtle likeness among them +all, the wingless and the winged, that marked them of the same racial +stock. + +Presently he began to notice that the unwinged were all either elderly +or adolescent. He remembered that his own wings had not begun to grow +until he was past eighteen. Was it only in their prime that this race +could fly? And would he, with advancing years, lose again this glorious +attribute he had only now begun to enjoy? + + * * * * * + +The thought damped that surge of exultation which still flooded his mind +beneath the surface bewilderment. And then he grinned wryly to himself, +thinking: + +“Maybe it won’t happen. Maybe I won’t live that long!” + +For the looks of the grim men around him were not encouraging. If he had +guessed right about a universal language in this world, it was not +strange that his ignorance of it gave them room for suspicion. And in a +village where life was held as cheaply as it was held here, he could +probably expect direct and violent reactions to suspicion. + +He was not far wrong. The men spoke among themselves in brawling voices +a moment or two longer, the girl Elje braiding her hair carelessly and +putting in a word now and then. While Kern stood there, debating with +himself what was best to do, the argument came to a swift climax. Elje +called something in a clear voice and, directly behind him, Kern heard a +guttural monosyllable in answer, and the rustle of wings, and felt +something cold and edged laid against the side of his neck. + +He stood quite still. Then the hunchback, Gerd, sidled around into his +view, holding the sharp knife with a steady hand against Kern’s jugular. +The pale eyes in the dark young face were steady and full of cold +threat. + +Someone moved across the flagstones behind him and Kern felt hands draw +his wrists together, felt the roughness of rope pulled tight around +them. He did not protest. He was too surprised, and too unaccustomed to +violence in his daily life, to know just now what course he should take. +And he was filled still with the thought that these were his own people. + +A something heavy and clinging fell suddenly across his wings. He jumped +and looked back. It was a net, which a man with a scarred face and +suspicious, squinting eyes was rapidly knotting together at the base of +his pinions. + +The hunchback grunted another monosyllable and drove the point of his +knife against Kern’s shoulder, jerking his red head toward a flight of +stairs across the room. The winged men drew back to let the two pass, +silent now and watching with impassive faces. Elje, finishing the last +of the second braid, tossed the pale silken rope of it across her +shoulder and would not meet Kern’s eyes as he went by. + +The stairs twisted unevenly through narrow stone walls. At the third +level the hunchback threw open a heavy, low door and followed Kern into +the room beyond. It was rather a pleasant little place, circular, with +tile-banded walls and a tiled floor. The single window was barred and +looked out over rooftops and distant hills. There was a low bed, a +table, two chairs, nothing more. + +The hunchback pushed Kern roughly toward one of the chairs. Both of +them, Kern noticed, had low backs to clear the wings of those who might +sit in them. He sank down and looked at the red-winged man expectantly. +What happened then was the last thing, perhaps, that he might have +expected to hear. + +Gerd held out his dagger, level across his palm, pointed to it with the +other hand and growled, “_Kaj_.” He slapped his sheath then, said, +“_Kajen_,” and dropped the dagger into it. His pale eyes bored into +Kern’s. + +Unexpectedly, Kern heard himself laughing. Partly it was relief, for he +would not have been surprised to feel the edge of that knife called +_kaj_ sink into his throat once the door had closed behind them. + +Instead, apparently this was to be a lesson in language.... + +Once, in the night, he awoke briefly. Strange stars were shining through +the bars of his window. He thought there was someone stealthily looking +at him from beyond the bars, and sleepily realized that it would take as +great skill to fly in silence as to walk without noise. But he saw no +one. He slept again and dreamed it was Elje at the window, touching the +bars with light fingertips as she smiled in at him in the starlight, her +face dabbled with blood. + +For two weeks he saw no one but Gerd. The pale eyes in the dark face +became very familiar to him, and gradually the deep voice became +familiar and understandable too. Gerd was a patient and indefatigable +teacher, and the language was a simple one, made for a simple culture. +Indeed, Kern learned it so rapidly that he began to catch Gerd’s +suspicious sidelong glances, and once, from his door, overheard a +conversation on the stair outside when Gerd and Elje met. + +“I think he may be a spy,” the hunchback’s deep guttural said. + +Elje laughed. “A spy who doesn’t speak our language?” + +“He learns it too readily. I wonder, Elje—The Mountain is cunning.” + +“Hush,” was all she answered. But Kern thereafter was careful to pretend +he knew less of the language than he really did. + +The Mountain. He thought of that in the long hours when he was alone. A +mountain, strange of shape, the color of clouds, towering halfway up the +heavens. It was more than inert matter, if these winged people spoke of +it with that hush in their voices. + +For a fortnight he waited and listened and learned. Once more, in the +night, with the nameless stars looking in at the window, he felt that +inexplicable stirring of, alien life deep within him, and was +frightened. It passed quickly, and was gone too fast for him to put any +name to it, or to remember it clearly afterward. Mutation? Continuing +change, in some unguessable form? He would not think of it. + + * * * * * + +On the fourteenth night, the Dream came. + +He had not thought very much about Bruce Hallam. Kua and the others. +Subconsciously, he did not want to. This was his world and the other +mutants were actually intruders, false notes in the harmony. Danger he +might find here, even death, but it was a winged world, and his own. + +There were dreams at night. Voices whispering, whose tones he +half-recognized and would not allow himself to remember when he awoke. +Something was searching for his soul. + +Before that final contact on the fourteenth night, he had eavesdropped +enough on other conversations held on the stairs between Gerd and Elje +to understand a little of what went on around him. + +Gerd was urging that they leave the town and return somewhere, and Elje +was adamant. + +“There’s no danger yet.” + +“There is danger whenever we’re away from the eyrie. Not even the +Mountain can guide enemies through the poison winds. Our safety has +always been a quick raid, Elje, and then back to the eyrie. But to stay +here, gorging ourselves—in a _town_—is madness.” + +“I like the comfort here,” Elje said naively. “It’s been a long time +since I’ve eaten and drunk so well, and slept on such a bed.” + +“You’ll sleep on a harder bed soon, then,” Gerd said dourly. “The towns +will gather. They must know already that we’re here.” + +“Are we afraid of the townsmen?” + +“When the Mountain walks—” the hunchback said, and left the sentence +unfinished. + +Elje’s laughter rang false. + +That night, Kern felt seeking fingers try again the doors of his mind, +and this time his subconscious resistance could not keep them out. He +recognized the mind behind that seeking—the infinitely sad, infinitely +wise mind of the mutant Byrna, with the lovely voice and the pale, +unlovely face. + +For a moment he floundered, lost in the depths of that intelligence so +much more fathomless than his own. For a moment timeless sorrow washed +him like the waters of the sea. Then he found himself again, and was +looking, somehow, through new and different eyes, into a grassy hollow +filled with starlight. Into Kua’s beautiful honey-colored face and her +great single eye. Into Sam Brewster’s veiled gaze. + +Dimly he groped for Bruce Hallam, who had opened the door for them all. +Bruce was missing. And as for Byrna—it was Byrna’s eyes through which +he saw them. Her mind, gripping his like the clasp of hands, cupping his +like a bowl of still water. Soundlessly through space came a voice. +Kua’s voice. + +“Byrna, have you found him?” + +“I think—yes. Kern! Kern!” + +Without words, he answered them. + +“Yes, Kua. Yes, Byrna. I’m here.” + +There was resentment in Kua’s voice—the voice of her mind, for no words +were spoken in this curious seance. Kern found time to wonder briefly if +Byrna had always possessed this strange ability to bridge distances, or +if it had burgeoned in her here as something struggled in himself for +new being. + +“We’ve been trying a long time, Kern,” Kua said coldly. “You were hard +to reach.” + +“I—I wasn’t sure you’d be here any longer.” + +“You thought we’d have gone on to other worlds. Well, we would have, if +we could. But Bruce was hurt. In the storm.” + +“Badly?” + +She hesitated. “We—can’t be sure. Look.” + +Through Byrna’s eyes Kern saw Bruce Hallam’s motionless figure, lying +silent on a bed of boughs. He looked oddly pale, almost ivory in color. +His breathing was nearly imperceptible. And Byrna’s mind, groping +through the void for his, found only a strange, dim spinning—something +too far away and too abstract for the normal mind to grasp. She touched +it briefly—and it spun out of contact and was gone. + +“A trance?” Kua said. “We don’t know, yet. But we’ve used Byrna’s vision +and learned a little about this world. How much do you know, Kern?” + +Kern told them then, with Byrna’s tongue, too absorbed in the needs of +the moment to realize fully what a strange meeting this was of more than +human minds, over unguessed distances of alien land. He told them what +he knew, what he had guessed from overheard conversations—not much, but +a general picture. + +“The planet’s mostly ocean. A small continent, about the size of +Australia, I think. City-states all over it. Elje’s band are outlaws. +They have a hideout somewhere, and they raid the towns. They seem—well, +scornful of the townspeople, and a little afraid, too. I can’t quite +understand that.” + +“This—Gerd? He spoke of a Mountain?” Kua said. + +“Yes. Something about—when the Mountain walks.” + +“You know the Mountain,” Kua said. “The storm came from there. Those +vortices of light and energy rose out of it.” + + * * * * * + +Kern remembered the spindles of blinding brilliance that strode across +the land in the maelstrom of the winds. “We don’t understand much of it +yet,” Kua was saying in a troubled tone. “We know there’s danger +connected with that Mountain. I think there is life there, something we +don’t know about. Something that probably couldn’t have developed on +Earth. The conditions could have been too alien. But here anything is +possible.” + +Kern felt the thought forming in his brain—in Byrna’s brain. + +“Life? Intelligent life? What do you know about it?” + +“Maybe not life as we understand the word. Call it a—force. No, it’s +more tangible than that. I don’t know—” The thought-voice of Kua +faltered. “Dangerous. We may learn more of it, if we live. This much +we’ve seen, though, through Byrna’s vision, and mine. We’ve sensed +forces reaching out from the Mountain, into the minds of men. The minds +of the winged townspeople. Assembling them for war.” She hesitated. +“Kern, do you know they’re on their way now, to your town, where the +outlaws are?” + +He was instantly alert. + +“Now? From where? How soon can they get here?” + +“I’m not sure. They aren’t in my sight yet—over the horizon, that is. +Byrna, tell him.” + +The mind that held Kern’s stirred, and through it he saw as through a +haze rank upon rank of winged beings flying with steady beasts of their +pinions over a dark night-time terrain. Byrna’s thought murmured, + +“You see, I can’t tell how far. It’s new, this clairvoyance since we +came from Earth. I could always see but not so clearly, and I never +could show others what was in my mind. So I only know these men are +flying against your village.” + +“And the force of men—the Mountain, I think, has armed them somehow,” +Kua put in. “Byrna has seen the weapons they carry. You’d better warn +your friends—your jailers or whatever they are. Otherwise you may be +caught in the middle of a fight.” + +“I will.” Kern’s mind was full now of something new. “You say you’ve +developed this clairvoyance since the time when you came here, Byrna. +Has it happened to the others, too?” + +“To me, maybe, a little,” Kua said slowly. “A sharpening of focus, not +much more than that. To Sam—” Her thought form glanced sidewise to Sam +Brewster, sitting silent, with the hood of his secondary lids drawn over +his terrible eyes, “—I think nothing’s happened. He can’t join our talk +now, you see. Byrna’s mind can’t reach into his at all. We’ll have to +tell him all that’s been said, later. And Bruce.” She shrugged. “Perhaps +the winged people will tell you how we can help him. The edge of one of +the vortices caught him, and he’s been like this ever since. We’d hoped +to go on, you know, Kern, to find our own worlds as you—perhaps—have +found yours. But without Bruce, we’re helpless.” + +Kern was aware of a tightening and strengthening of his own mind as a +problem at last came before him that must be met. Until now he had been +almost in a trance of wonder and delight and dismay at the new things of +this new, winged world. But the time for lassitude was over. He gathered +his thoughts for speech, but Kua’s voice cut his beginning phrases +short. + +“Kern, there’s danger in the Mountain. The—thing—whatever it is, knows +we’re here. It lives in the Mountain, or perhaps it _is_ the Mountain. +But Byrna has sensed hatred from it. Malevolence.” + +There was a sudden harshness to her thought. + +“Kern, you’re a soft fool!” Kua said. “Did you think you could reach +Paradise without earning it? Whether you help us or not, you’ve got to +face danger before you’ll find your place in this world, or any other. I +don’t think you can manage without us. And we need your help, too. +Together, we may still lose the battle. Separately, there’s no hope for +any of us. We _know_! The Mountain may be a mutation as far beyond us as +we are beyond the animals. But we’ve got to fight.” + +Her voice blurred suddenly, faded to a thin drone. The starlit hill and +the faces before him swirled and melted in Kern’s sleeping sight. He +struggled for a moment against intangible danger—something formless and +full of strong malevolence. He saw—what was it? A vast, coiling +Something like a ribbon of fire, moving lazily in darkness and aware of +him—terribly aware. + +Far off in the void he felt the quiver of fright in a mind he +knew—Byrna’s mind. But he lost the contact instantly, and then someone +was shaking him by the shoulder and saying something in insistent, +guttural tones. + +He opened his eyes. + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + _Evil Mountain_ + + +In his vision, the coiling flame had left so brilliant an image upon his +eyelids that for an instant he could see nothing but the blue-green scar +of after-sight swimming upon his vision. Then that faded and he was +staring up into Gerd’s darkly handsome young face. + +Kern struggled to sit up, beating his wings a little to help him rise. +The gust stirred Kern’s red hair and sent motes dancing in the beam of +sunlight falling across the bed. Kern in the aftermath of amazement and +terror forgot to dissemble his knowledge of the winged men’s tongue. The +simple syllables raced off his lips. + +“Gerd, Gerd, you’ve got to listen to me! I’ve been finding out things I +didn’t suspect until now. Let me up. The townspeople are coming!” + +Gerd put a hard palm against his chest. + +“Not so fast. You seem to have learned our language in your sleep. No, +stay there.” His voice rose. “Elje!” + +She was a moment or two in coming, and Gerd stood back with his hand on +his dagger and his pale, suspicious eyes unswerving as he watched Kern. +When Elje came, bright-faced in the morning sun, her ashen braids wound +in a coronet that glistened against the high arch of her wings, he spoke +without taking his eyes from Kern. + +“Our guest awoke this morning with a strangely fluent knowledge of +speech. I told you before of the danger from spies, Elje.” + +“All right, I do know more of your language than I pretended,” Kern +admitted. “I just learned it faster than you believed, that’s all. That +doesn’t matter now. Do you know the townspeople are coming to attack?” + +Gerd bent forward swiftly, half-open wings hovering above him in the +sunlight. + +“How do you know that? You _are_ a spy!” + +“Let him talk, Gerd,” Elje said. “Let him talk.” + +Kern talked.... + +In the end, he could see that they did not yet fully trust him. It was +not surprising, for the tale would have bewildered anyone. But the +prospect of an advancing army was enough to divide their thoughts. + +“If I were a spy, would I warn you they were coming?” Kern demanded, +seeing their dubious glances fixed on him at the end of his story. + +“It isn’t the army you’d be spying for,” Gerd said reluctantly. + +“Your other world—Earth,” Elje murmured, her eyes searching Kern’s. “If +that were true, it could explain some things. But we know of no other +worlds.” + +Briefly Kern thought that it might be easier for one of Elje’s culture +to believe in the existence of other worlds than for a denizen of some +more sophisticated civilization. The people of this winged race had not +yet closed their minds to all they could not see. It was not a race so +sure of its own omnipotence that it denied all unfamiliar things +existence. + +“How could I hurt you now?” Kern said. “Why should I warn you, if I were +on their side?” + +“It’s the Mountain,” Elje said surprisingly. “Why do you suppose we kept +you here in this bare room, without furnishings, without anything you +could build into a weapon? Or do you know?” + +Bewildered, he shook his head. + +“We were not sure if you were a slave to the Mountain. If you were, a +coil of wire, a bit of iron—anything—would have been dangerous to us +in your hands.” Her eyes were questioning. + +Again Kern shook his head. Gerd began to speak, his voice faintly +derisive. + +“A long story and an evil one. Perhaps you know it. At any rate, we’re +the only free people in this world. Oh, there may be a few others, but +not many, and they don’t live long. The Mountain is jealous of its +slaves. Aside from our group, all the rest of mankind belongs to the +Mountain. All!” + +“This Mountain?” Kern said. “What is it?” + +Gerd shrugged his red wings. + +“Who knows? Demon—god. If we ever had a history, no one knows it now. +No legend goes back beyond the coming of the Mountain. We only know that +it has always been there, and from it, whispers float out to men in +their sleep, and they become slaves to the whisper. Something happens in +their minds. For the most part they live as they choose, in their +cities. But sometimes that voice comes again, and then they’re mindless, +doing as the Mountain bids them.” + +“We don’t know what the Mountain is,” Elje said. “But we know that it’s +intelligent. It can guide men’s hands to make weapons, when there’s a +need for weapons. And it can send out storms, such as the one in which +we found you. Not for a long, long while has there been a storm out of +the Mountain. If you’re not a spy, how do you explain the fact that your +coming and the storm happened in the same hour?” + + * * * * * + +He shrugged. About that, he also was puzzled. + +“I wish I knew. But I’ll find out, if any human can. Do you mean the +army that’s coming against you is sent by the Mountain? Why?” + +“As long as we remain free, the Mountain will try to enslave us,” Elje +said. “And we’ll fight the townsmen for the things we need, since we +don’t dare fight the Mountain. We’ve stayed too long in this +village—yes, Gerd, I know! We’ll return to the eyrie now. If an army of +the townsfolk is coming, they’ll have weapons the Mountain made them +build, and the weapons will be dangerous, whatever they may be this +time.” + +“The prisoner may know all this already,” Gerd said dourly. “That +doesn’t matter. But it will matter if we take him to the eyrie. He could +lead our enemies there, Elje.” + +“Through the poison winds?” But Elje drew in her lower lip thoughtfully. +“He tells a mad story, Gerd. I know that. Could it be true?” + +“Well, what then?” + +“These companions he spoke of. They sound like gods. And they talked of +fighting against the Mountain.” + +“Fight against the stars,” Gerd said and laughed. “But not the Mountain. +Not even gods could win such a war.” + +“They aren’t gods,” Kern said. “But they have powers none of us know. I +think our coming marks a turning place in the history of your race, +Elje—Gerd. You can kill us or abandon us and go on as you always have, +or you can believe me and help us, and fight this time with a chance of +winning. Will you do it?” + +Elje was silent for a moment. Then she laughed and stood up suddenly +with a flutter of her wings. + +“I’ll go along with you and talk to your friends,” she said. “If they’re +as you say—yes, Kern, I’ll believe you. For the Mountain never has +changed human flesh. It can touch our minds, but not our bodies. I think +in the beginning were men whose brains had some weakness that let the +whisper come in, and those men were armed by the Mountain and killed +their fellows, until only we outlaws remained. + +“Our minds over the generations have been bred to resist invasion as the +townspeople were bred to welcome it. I think—I know—if the Mountain +could reach into our bodies and make that tiny change that would open +our mind to it, then it would win. But it can’t. It can’t alter our +bodies except by killing us. If I see with my own eyes these companions +of Kern’s, I’ll know there is a power greater than the Mountain. And +we’ll fight together, Kern!” + +A little later, floating high above the nest of hills which cradled the +village, Kern rocked on spread wings and pressed his eyes tightly shut, +thinking with all the strength of his mind: + +“Byrna, Byrna! Answer me, Byrna! Help me find you. Byrna, do you hear?” + +Silence, except for the small noises drifting up from far below, distant +shouts as Elje’s winged band collected in haste the loot they would take +with them to their eyrie. Kern’s vision swam with the flecked clouds of +sunlight on closed lids. Deliberately he blanked his mind to receive an +answer. None came. + +“Byrna! There may not be time to waste. Byrna, Kua, answer me!” + +In his eagerness and impatience he remembered again what he had glimpsed +dimly through Byrna’s memory, the ranks of armed fliers moving through +the night on steadily beating wings toward the village. Perhaps from so +far away they would not arrive for many hours—perhaps so near that the +cloud on the horizon now was not mist, but armed men.... + +“Byrna! Do you hear me?” + +“_Kern!_” The answer he sought came with sharp impact, like a blow in +the face. As if she were almost at his side and speaking with dreadful +violence. He caught terror in the contact of minds, cold, controlled +terror that chilled him so the sunny air turned suddenly icy around him. +He knew instantly that she had heard him before, had been hedging for +just the right contact so that there need be no wasted moments of +groping and finding focus upon one another. He caught the hard impact +and the terror and the urgency in the moment their minds met. Then her +thoughts tumbled into his mind: + +“Kern! Hurry! No time to waste. Do you see the grove of blooming trees +left on the horizon? Come! Make new contact there.” + +She blanked as suddenly as she had entered his mind. And because +thoughts are so infinitely more rapid than words she had conveyed those +four ideas—identification, haste, locality and a promise of future +contact—in almost no lapse of time at all. But in that brief instant +while their minds did meet, something happened. + +Kern rocked on shaken wings as if a blow had jolted him. He snatched his +mind back from the brief touch with Byrna’s quickly, quickly, scorched +with the incandescent hatred that had blazed in the void between them. +For the coiled ribbon of fire which had swum so strangely through +nothingness when he woke from his clairvoyant dream was awake and alive +now, and terribly avid. + + * * * * * + +It had been waiting, he knew in the instant while his mind leaped back +in recoil from that burning contact. It had found them as he waked +slowly from the long, leisured conversation in the seance. + +Since that moment it had lain, coiled, in waiting. _It?_ + +Folding his wings, he dropped forward in a long, breathtaking dive, the +air screaming past his ears. From a tiled rooftop far below, he saw two +figures rise, one on pale wings, one on glossy red. He spread his own +pinions then, exulting in the strain on his chest-muscles when the broad +surfaces checked his dive, bore him up in a steep arc that made the air +feel warm and solid as he carved a long curve through it. + +“That way,” he told Elje, pointing, when she rose within hearing. “We’ll +have to hurry. There’s something wrong. I think perhaps the Mountain, or +Something in the Mountain, knows we’re here.” + +Elje’s clear bright color blanched in the sunlight. Behind her, Gerd’s +eyes flashed sideward in the dark face, suspicious, mistrusting still. + +“Why do you say that?” + +Kern told them as they flew, the grove of blossoming trees on the +horizon seeming to slip rapidly down the edge of the skyline and draw +nearer far below. It was not easy to talk and fly. Kern’s breath began +to come fast, and his chest and wings ached with the speed, after so +many days of inactivity. When he finished speaking there was silence. + +“The eyrie lies that way,” Elje said presently, in a controlled voice. +She pointed right with a smooth bare arm. “I’ve sent most of the men on +with our loot. Gerd chose twenty to follow us. You don’t know where or +how far the Mountain’s men are?” + +Kern shook his head. “Maybe I can find out at the next meeting with +Byrna.” + +He glanced behind them and saw the little band of Elje’s bodyguard +flying a few minutes in their rear, big men all of them, with stolid, +hard-eyed faces. Several carried light wicker squares looped up with +straps. + +“Seats for your friends, Kern,” Elje explained. “We need them when we +carry our young people or our old ones, who no longer have the power to +fly.” Her face darkened, as Kern knew their faces always did when the +winged people thought of the days in which they would no longer travel +the lanes of air. + +It occurred to him then that their battles might be ferocious things, +fought by men as fanatic in their own way as those who fought on Earth +for entry into an imagined paradise. For these men fought their own old +age as surely as they fought an enemy. No one who has once spread wings +upon the air-currents willingly faces a life without wings. + +The blooming grove was beneath them now. + +“If you make contact this time with—it—again, Kern, I think _it_ will +know more easily where to direct its men,” Elje said. “There is great +danger. Will you let this meeting with your friends go for awhile? You +may be doing them harm as well as us. The army of the Mountain may be +very near now.” + +Kern hesitated. He had been dreading with every wingbeat the moment when +he must open his mind again to that coiled and scorching malevolence. +For an instant he toyed with the idea of postponing searching for +Byrna’s mind, but he knew it would only mean putting off the inevitable. +Grimly he shook his head. + +“Byrna!” he called out mentally. “Byrna, what next?” + +As before, for long moments there was no answer. Then briefly, like a +gasp, he caught the touch of Byrna’s mind—only briefly and very +incoherently, because between them in the instant of contact flashed the +blinding hatred of the—the interloper. Only when their minds touched, +apparently, could the white-hot malevolence reach them, but it lay +ambushed and ready, and this time it seemed to flare out between them +almost before Byrna’s voice could speak. + +Reeling back, shaken and stunned by the thing between them, Kern caught +only a ragged thought or two from Byrna’s mind. + +“Three hills—hurry—army!” + +That was all that got through. For an instant the void flamed with the +blankness of sheer hatred. Then Kern opened his eyes and caught himself +on reeling wings. Elje and Gerd watched him without speaking as he +controlled his shaken faculties with a great effort. Elje was white with +terror, but on Gerd’s face suspicion was still predominant. + +Three hills in a shadowy row cut the horizon line. Kern gestured toward +them and in silence the little group flew on. If Byrna’s gasp of +“—army—” meant the enemy were nearly upon them, there was nothing to +do except fly as they had been flying, in the hope of reaching the +mutants before disaster overtook them all. + + + + + CHAPTER V + + _Pursuit_ + + +The three hills were not quite below them, and Kern was watching the +skyline anxiously for signs of the winged army which was moving against +them, when something from below flashed across his eyes. He blinked and +looked down. From a clump of trees the light-beam flashed again, +dazzlingly, from a tiny point of brilliance. Then a small figure stepped +out from the shelter of the branches, waving at him. + +It was Kua. Even from this height he could see the reflected light in +twin points on the sun-glasses she held in one hand. She had signalled +him by the heliograph with the only thing they had for reflecting light. + +Pointing downward, he let one wing tilt high and came about in a long +glide, lying at full length upon the air with his heels higher than his +head. The ground swung, like water in a cup and Kua seemed to rush +upward to meet him as the swift dive cut the space between them. + +The others were with her by the time Kern had put his feet to the grass. +He was conscious, as always, of a little shock of memory renewed when he +met again Kua’s great single gaze from the center of her forehead. +Byrna, hurrying to meet him, lifted a pale, drawn little face. + +“Kern!” she cried in a voice that was pure music. And he thought there +was in her eyes, and in Kua’s, a subtle something that was new to him. +Mutation had gone on, perhaps, with them as with him, a step beyond +Earthly mutation. Their powers were strengthened, so that, in part, they +both were strangers to him. + +Sam Brewster came out smiling and extending his hand, and Kern took it +with the little inward quailing he had always felt before Sam, the +instinctive averting of his gaze from Sam’s veiled eyes. Beyond Sam’s +shoulder he saw Bruce Hallam lying motionless, as if he had not stirred +since they laid him on the pallet of boughs. His face was ivory-hard and +as withdrawn from living as the face of a statue that had never known +life. + +Everything was confused for a few moments. Byrna was crying, “Hurry, +hurry!” and Kua’s distance-piercing glance kept sweeping the horizon as +the winged people swooped to the ground behind Kern and came forward +swiftly, wings half open to speed their hurrying feet. + +Kern heard Elje’s little gasp of incredulity and dismay when Kua’s blue +central eye turned upon the newcomers, but the winged girl was too good +a commander to waste time after that first glance which confirmed what +Kern had told her. + +In a matter of seconds they were in the air. + +Bruce Hallam, still motionless in his mysterious slumber, had been swung +on a wicker carrier between two burly fliers. The other three mutants, +in their seats between winged bearers, scarcely had time for amazement +or uncertainty as they were wafted aloft. + +Kern, flying with the rest over the rolling hilltops with the vast glass +cloud of the Mountain shadowing the horizon, timed his flight to the +pace of the slowest so that he might talk in midair with the wingless +people in the carriers. And close beside him Elje and Gerd hovered, +watching almost jealously every expression on the faces of the speakers. + +“What do they say, Kern?” Elje asked breathlessly, timing her words to +the rhythm of her wings. “Are—are you sure these people are human? I +never saw such—such—creatures. Gerd, after all could they be gods?” + +Gerd laughed shortly, but there was uneasiness in his voice. + +“Let them talk. Is the enemy near yet? Ask them, Kern.” + +“Near, I think,” Byrna said. She was clutching the straps of her swaying +chair with both tiny hands and her incredibly musical voice might have +been crooning a song instead of shaping the syllables of terror which +echoed the look in her eyes. “Kern, I don’t dare—look—for them any +more! You saw what happened! Kern, tell me what it was _you_ saw.” + +“I? Fire, I think. A coiling ribbon of it—and hate. I could almost see +the hate!” + +“The Mountain,” Byrna said, her eyes turning automatically toward the +great cloud hanging ominously in the sky. “What do you know about it, +Kern? Have these people told you?” + +Briefly he gave her the story Elje had recounted. + +“It has never yet been able to change people physically, or there +wouldn’t be any outlaws left,” he finished. “At least, so Elje thinks. +Byrna, I wonder if it could change us? We’re malleable—abnormally +malleable. I—” + +He hesitated. Not even to Byrna did he yet want to speak of the deep, +mysterious stirrings he had felt in his own flesh. + +“You think you and Kua may have felt something like a changing in +yourselves?” + +Byrna nodded, her eyes wide and distressed. “We can’t tell how much, +yet. Maybe the Mountain is the cause of it.” + +Unexpectedly Sam Brewster, swinging between his carriers above Byrna, +leaned forward. + +“The Mountain’s where the answer is, Kern. I don’t think we’ll be safe +until we’ve explored it.” + +“Safe!” Kern said grimly. “If you’d seen what I have, you’d never talk +that way.” + +“It won’t matter,” Kua called from a little way ahead, twisting in her +seat to send a piercing blue gaze back at them. “Look! They’re coming!” + + * * * * * + +Kern’s sharp exclamation as he banked swiftly and turned to follow her +pointing finger was explanation enough to Elje and Gerd what was +happening. A shiver of excitement ran through the whole flying group, a +tightening of muscle and mind. For an instant their pace slackened, +simultaneously, without signal, almost as a flight of birds wheels +simultaneously at no perceptible message. + +There was nothing visible on the horizon where Kua pointed. + +“I can see the first of them—a long line,” she said. “They’re carrying +something, but I’m not sure what it is. Round things—nets of something +shining, like thin wire. Light’s flashing from it when the sun hits +them.” + +Rapidly Kern told Elje. + +“New weapons,” she said. “I expected that. I wonder—well, we’ll know +soon enough.” She beat her wings together and soared suddenly above the +group, looking down with speculative eyes. + +“We’re going too slowly. Kern.” She flashed a glance at him. “This other +friend of yours, the injured one. He’s heavy. He slows us. And he takes +two men out of the fight if we’re caught. I think—” She made an +expressive downward gesture. + +“No!” Kern said quickly. “He’s the most powerful of us all, if we can +rouse him.” + +“Well, he must be first to fall, if the need comes,” Elje said. “But +we’ll wait.” She called commands to the group flying before them, and +eight men wheeled in the air and swung back. Kern watched them slip +smoothly, without a break in their wing-beats, into the harness of the +wicker carriers, relieving those who had borne the burden this far. + +“Now, quickly!” Elje said. “The eyrie!” + +They were almost over the jagged hills where the outlaws’ refuge lay, +when the first ranks of the enemy swept over the skyline and saw them. +The fugitives had flown low, taking advantage of every line of hills and +trees for cover, and despite their burden they flew fast, their pace +nearly matching that of the pursuers because of the all-night flight the +enemy had made. + +But they had not yet reached shelter when the sound of a horn, clear and +high, fell through the sunny air, and after it, drowning out the thin, +sweet notes, the roar of angry men sighting their prey. + +Elje was very calm. + +“Gerd,” she said. “You’ll lead the way in?” + +“No!” he growled. “Let one of the captains go. I feel like a fight.” + +“Stay, then,” Elje answered. + +She called a command to a man in the front rank of her little party. +They were flying as fast as wing could carry them toward a gap between +two jagged, dark hills through which Kern could see a wilderness of +tortured rock beyond. It looked volcanic in origin, and waves of +intermittent heat and strange metallic odors drifted to them on the wind +as they approached. + +“There are poisonous currents in these hills,” Elje told Kern as they +swept forward. “Many of us died before we learned the way through them. +Now we have a shelter where no one can follow us who hasn’t a guide.” + +Abruptly she ceased to speak. Kern turned a startled glance and saw her +reel in midair, throwing back her head so that the clear line of her +throat was white and taut against the blue sky. Then, without a word, +suddenly she crumpled in full flight. An instant longer her wings +sustained her and she hung limp from the spread pinions. Then they too +folded back and she dropped like a stone. + +Time stopped for Kern. Everything stood still, the hills with their +floating vapors, the flying troupe, the breeze halted among the trees +below. He could see the first ranks of the oncoming enemy halted too and +hanging motionless in space, their shouts nothing but a buzz in his +ears. + +He saw too, very clearly, the great ovals of the weapons they carried, +and the light that whirled in intricate, thin patterns like wires of +brilliance within the ovals. He saw the cone of light reach out from the +nearest oval and touch another of the fugitive fliers. + +It had happened in an instant, and it was over. Kern dived for Elje’s +falling body almost before she had ceased to speak, swung under her, +caught her across his arms in a welter of slack wings and loosened hair. + +Gerd’s harsh voice was shouting orders above him. By the time Kern had +labored up to their level with his burden he saw the newly-appointed +guide of the winged men vanishing into the cleft between the hills, +leading two by two the harnessed pairs who carried the mutants. + +The roar of savage voices behind them filled the shaken air, and the +roar of countless wings beating in ranks as the enemy swooped upon them. +They were very near now—so near Kern could see the distorted, shouting +faces and the flash of knives in the hands of the foremost. + +It was a strange and eerie thing to realize that no human hatred burned +behind the angry faces, but the fiery, venomed malignancy which was the +Mountain. Or did this oncoming rabble know why it fought? Did they think +this fury their own emotion, not a monstrously inspired rage that turned +them to automatons? + +A cone of light swung past Kern, numbing his wing-tip, and touched a +fast-flying man in front of him between the wings. The man jolted +convulsively, arched backward and then crumpled to hang for an instant +motionless on the momentum of his own flight. The wings folded as Elje’s +had done, and the man dropped downward out of sight. + + * * * * * + +Gerd was gesturing Kern frantically on. The hunchback hovered on red +pinions recklessly in full view of the enemy, knives flashing in each +hand, ready to engage whoever came within reach of his blades. He was +shouting hoarse orders scarcely audible above the rushing thunder of the +enemies’ wings and their voices bellowing for blood. + +The last of the little band was pouring through the hill-cleft now, Kern +almost the last of all with his limp burden hanging across his arms. The +air was full of twisting vapors and he could not see very clearly as he +swept closer to the hills. It was, curiously, a nightmare sensation, +half-blindness from the poison vapors and half-deafness from the roar of +wings and voices. He could only follow the back of the man ahead, dimly +seen through the mists. Elje hung motionless in his arms, her trailing +wings fluttering a little to the measured beat of his own. + +The last thing he saw as he glanced back was Gerd poised above the cleft +to follow him in, ready to fight a rear-guard action if need be. And +then, all in one brief glance between drifts of vapor, Kern’s heart +contracted as he saw two more winged shapes beating desperately toward +him through the dimness, two men flying tandem with a harnessed burden +between them. + +It was Bruce Hallam’s bearers. And Elje had been right. Bruce’s weight +was too great for the flying men to carry fast enough. Evidently they +had been left too far behind to follow the other bearers in and had only +now made up the distance which would save them. + +Or would it save them? + +In spite of himself, Kern tilted his wings and hesitated in the air, +twisting his head to watch. He saw Gerd gesturing savagely to hurry them +in—heard the hunchback’s deep howl. + +“Drop him!” Gerd howled. “Drop him and come on!” + +But before they could obey, a cone of white fire swept silently through +the coiling fog and enveloped bearers and burden alike in a bath of +radiance. + +There was no sound, except for the all-encompassing uproar of the +pursuit. In silence the doomed fliers stiffened and glided an instant +still carrying their fatal weight between them—and then dropped. + +The three of them vanished together into the engulfing mists. + +Kern flew on with Elje. + +He labored on leaden wings through the fog. Whiffs of burning vapor +stung in his nostrils and set his pumping lungs on fire. Elje was an +almost unbearable weight in his arms. + +Coughing, choking, ready to think every wing-beat his last, he stumbled +through the air in the wake of the man before him, his only guide +through this aerial labyrinth of poison. Hot updrafts caught him and +tossed him aloft, cross-currents fetid with strangling vapors sent him +into perilous side-slips toward the jagged black peaks dangerously near. +At this speed he knew he could not survive the slightest contact with +those knife-edged rocks. + +And Bruce’s loss was a heavier burden to bear than even Elje’s dead +weight. For only Bruce could have opened the doors for the rest to +escape into worlds of their own. And upon Bruce’s uncanny skill he had +pinned his highest hopes of freeing this world from its enemy. + +Strangling, choking, muscles aching from the strain of long flight, he +reeled on in the wake of the flying outlaws. + +The end of the ordeal came without warning. One moment he was flying +blindly through the updrafts and the smoke, the next he found himself +floating in clear still air over what seemed a great lip of rock. Winged +men below gestured him down and he dropped slowly on aching wings and +let his feet touch the rock gingerly. + +Elje coughed in his arms as he shifted weight from wings to feet. +Electrified, he looked down, forgetting everything else in this new +surprise. He had been certain she was dead or dying. She opened her +eyes, looked at him blindly, and let the lashes flutter down again. But +at least she was still alive. + +The men of her band closed around them then and one of them took Elje +from his arms. Kern looked around curiously as he followed Elje’s bearer +across the rock. + +A cavern lifted its high arched entrance before them, black rock without +and within, and the lip of rock thrust out before it, black too. Above +the platform, which must have been two hundred feet across, the air was +still and no poisonous vapors swirled, but they still rose all around +the edges of the rock and leaned together high above like a tent roof +that blotted out the sky except for occasional rifts far overhead. It +was like a painter’s concept of Hades, even to the winged men with the +hard, violent faces swarming out to meet the newcomers. + +The mutants were among them. Kern told them shortly of Bruce’s loss. He +did not want to dwell on it, for it seemed a death-blow to the hopes of +the others and perhaps to his own, too, if this world was ever to be +peopled by any but automatons. + +None of the mutants spoke after he had told them. The loss was a +stunning one and Byrna’s sad, small face grew sadder and very pale, +while Kua’s great blue eye filled with tears as she turned away. Sam +Brewster muttered something under his breath and for an instant Kern saw +the veiling secondary lids twitch across his eyes, as they always +twitched when Sam was angry, in involuntary preparation to draw back. + +“Sam!” Kern said sharply. Sam grimaced and turned away too, closing the +secondary lids again. + +Inside the cavern, on a straw mattress under a stretched crimson tent, +Elje was lying. A fire burned in a crude hood of rocks, its heat cupped +in the red tent and reflected back again upon the bed. Someone was +holding a bowl of steaming liquid to her lips as Kern came up. + +Kern watched her drain it slowly. When she lay back upon the cushions +her eyes remained open and she looked around the circle of watching men +with understanding dawning in her face. Color came back into it after +awhile, and then she coughed again and sat up. + +“All right,” she said. “I’m better. What happened?” + +Kern told her. + +“Gerd?” she asked when he had finished. The men looked at one another +inquiringly. A growl of dissent went through the cavern. No one had seen +him. Someone rose on heavy wings and flapped out under the dome to +search the platform outside. Gerd was not to be found. Elje’s face +darkened. + +“We could afford to lose twenty men better than Gerd,” she said. “You +say he was last behind you, Kern? Didn’t you hear any fighting as you +came in?” + +Kern shook his head. “I couldn’t tell. I thought he was following me. +The last I saw was Bruce and his carriers going down.” + + * * * * * + +Elje bit her lip. “I’m sorry. We’ll miss him. He was one of the bravest +and most loyal of us all. He’s been with us only a year, but I’d come to +depend more on his judgment than—” She broke off. “Well, it can’t be +helped. I suppose the light-cones got him. I wonder how they work.” She +flexed her wings and tried her muscles out experimentally. “The rays +don’t seem to leave any after-effects. I suppose the fatalities are +meant to come from the fall. Well, at least we’re lucky to have got away +without any worse losses.” + +She got to her feet and shook her head tentatively, shook her wings out +and made two or three uncertain beats that nearly lifted her off the +floor. + +“I’m all right now.” She spread her hands to the blaze for it was damply +chill in the cavern. “The Mountain’s angry,” she said. “It isn’t only +our raid on the village that brought this army out against us. There was +that storm, too. Kern, I think the Mountain knows you’re here and is +trying to—to finish you. Have you any idea why?” + +Kern had, vague theories too inchoate to put into words. He shook his +head instead. Elje laughed shortly. + +“Gerd wouldn’t trust you. If he were here, he’d say it was your fault +the enemy had gathered against us. He’d say to put you out and let you +shift for yourselves, all of you. Is there any reason why I shouldn’t?” +Her voice was suddenly hard. + +Disconcerted, Kern stared at her. “If you don’t know any—” he began, +but she broke in quickly. + +“You saved my life,” she conceded, “but we’re not a sentimental people. +We can’t afford to be. If your presence here is a menace to the safety +of us all, I can’t indulge my own gratitude by putting my men in danger. +We must each contribute to the strength of the group, or perish.” She +shrugged. “You’re one extra fighting man, but what about your friends? +Have they abilities to counterbalance their being earth-bound?” + +“I think they have. This much is sure, Elje. Unless we can prevail +against the Mountain somehow, I believe we mutants at least are doomed. +Our coming has upset the balance in your world and the Mountain knows it +and intends to be rid of us. Well, we’ve lost our best man, Bruce +Hallam. With his help we might have moved openly against the Mountain. +Without him, we are greatly handicapped.” Kern grimaced wryly. +“Remember, Byrna and I have been in—call it in tune—with whatever it +is that constitutes the Mountain. We know what we’re facing. But I don’t +see any choice. It’s kill or be killed.” + +Behind him Kua’s gentle voice spoke. “Kern,” she said. He turned. Elje +turned too, and from the corner of his eye, he saw her recoil +involuntarily from the strangeness of Kua’s face. + +Kua’s wide blue eye, with depth upon depth shining in it, was staring at +the rock wall above the fireplace. Her face had a look of concentration +and withdrawal upon it, as if in all but body she were miles away. + +“Kern!” she said again. “There are men coming. Many men. I think they +are the same ones who were following us outside.” She hesitated, +glancing quickly at Elje’s face, her eye refocusing swiftly and then +going back to the solid wall. + +“Kua, you can see them?” Kern demanded. “Do you mean it? Do you know +you’re not looking through empty spaces now, Kua? You’re looking through +rock!” + +The shock of realization on Kua’s face as she turned to him was answer +enough. “I am!” she gasped. “It never—that hasn’t happened before. +Kern, it’s true that we’re changing. More than we know, until something +like this happens! But I can see them. I can see through the side of the +mountain.” + +Again she turned to stare with her fathomless gaze into distances no +human eye ever pierced before, unaided. + +“They’re coming,” she said. “Through the mists, the way we came.” + +Swiftly Kern told Elje what she had said. Elje leaned forward abruptly. + +“Through the labyrinth?” she cried. “But they can’t! No one can come +that way without a guide. They won’t get far before they’re overcome by +the gasses.” + +“They have a guide,” Kua said in a strangely gentle voice, turning her +gaze upon Elje. “Your friend. Gerd.” + + + + + CHAPTER VI + + _Betrayal_ + + +Horrified silence filled the cave for a moment when Kern ceased his +translation. Then bedlam broke out. The encircling men who had listened +so far in silence burst into violent speech, some deriding Kua’s claim, +some cursing Gerd. Elje silenced them with a sharp command. + +“I don’t believe you,” she said flatly. “Gerd wouldn’t betray us.” + +Kua shrugged. “You’d better prepare to meet them,” was all she said. + +For a moment Elje’s composure broke. “But I don’t—it can’t be Gerd! He +wouldn’t! Kern, how _can_ we meet them? They’re a hundred to our one! +This was our last refuge. If they’re coming here, all is lost!” + +“They don’t know we’re expecting them,” Kern said. “That’s our only +advantage. Make the most of it. Is there any room for ambushes along the +way?” + +Elje shook her head. “It’s almost a single-file path everywhere. And +Gerd knows it better than even I do.” Her wings drooped. Listlessly she +stared into the fire. “This is the end of all resistance to the +Mountain,” she said. “This is the day _it_ wins the fight. None of us +can come out alive. Gerd! I can’t believe it!” + +“The Mountain—you think?” Kern asked her. + +“It must be that. He passed all our tests—and we have rigid ones—but +somehow he must have been able to hide the truth from us. He’s one of +the Mountain’s slaves and, when it commanded, he had to obey.” + +“That proves it!” Kern said suddenly. “Why should the Mountain move +against you today of all days, unless it has something to fear? Gerd’s +been with you a year, you say. The Mountain could have struck any hour +of all that time. But it waited—for an emergency. And this is the +emergency. If it’s afraid of us, then maybe we’re stronger than we know. +Maybe—” + +From the mists outside the high, hollow notes of a horn broke into his +speech. Kern spun around. Voices rose in angry babble from the platform. +There was a beating of wings that made a noise almost deafening under +the dome of the cavern, and the fire flared wildly, the red canvas of +Elje’s tent flapped in the blast as the outlaws rushed to the defense of +their last refuge. Elje, shouting commands, rose with them. + +Kua and Byrna turned white faces to Kern. Sam Brewster, behind them, +looked a question. Rapidly Kern told them what had been said. + +“You’d better wait here,” he finished. “I don’t know what’s coming, but +you’ll be safer inside.” + +Sam smiled a grim and dreadful smile. “I can help,” he reminded Kern. +“I’ll come outside.” + +Together they walked to the door of the cave. There was tumult beyond, +but an orderly tumult. Ranks of the winged outlaws were hurrying aloft +to hang overhead in wait. Elje marshaled the rest with a hopeless sort +of efficiency into reserves. Before she had finished, the horn sounded +again, on a note of triumph, and the first of the enemy burst through +the fog upon them. + +“You see,” Elje said to Kern, the hopelessness clear in her voice. “They +wanted us out in the open where they could finish us quickest. They even +gave warning so we’d be waiting for them. That’s how sure they are of +us.” + +From the front of the platform a wave of the outlaw fighters, knives +flashing in their hands, rose to meet the newcomers. And from above a +second wave dived on half-closed wings. For a few moments there was a +bloody melee at the mouth of the aerial entry where the enemy poured +through. + +“We can hold them five minutes,” Elje said. “After that, we’re through.” + +Now for the first time Kern saw how the winged men fought. The hawk-dive +was the thing he thought of as he watched the fighters swoop on their +prey, saw the flash of knives held at an expert angle for the slash that +would cripple wing-muscles and send the victim hurtling helplessly to +the ground. One sweeping cut across the chest-muscles was enough to put +a man out of the fight. + +But if the intended prey saw his adversary coming, then it was a matter +of soaring and swooping for position. And Kern saw many times a winged +man, outmaneuvered by his enemy, rise on desperate wings and hurl +himself headlong into a death-like embrace, wings folded, so that the +two fell like a single plummet, each striving frantically as they +dropped twisting through the air for a blow that would cripple his +adversary and break the wing-locked grip before the ground came too +near. + +Now the gush of the enemy through the fog had become too great to stem +as they poured by the score out of their narrow entry. The fight which +had for a few minutes hovered at the mouth of the gap swept backward and +upward until the great tent of vapor over the platform was filled with +struggling men, and the air was blackened with the shadows of their +wings. + +“They aren’t using those light-cones,” Kern said. “I’ve been waiting to +dodge but none have come through yet. Why?” + +“I think because the Mountain sends out the light-beam that focuses +through the wires,” Elje told him. “That’s the way their weapons usually +work. And the Mountain can’t penetrate our mists and our rocks here. +They’ve got to fight hand-to hand—but they can do it. There are too +many of them. I—Kern, look! Is that Gerd?” + + * * * * * + +A flash of red wings and red hair showed through the melee as someone +went by on whistling wings, too fast to see clearly. Kern caught one +glimpse of a dark face and pale, fixed eyes—and thought there was grief +in the eyes and the distorted face in that one glancing look he caught +of it. + +Elje, beside him, shouted something across the platform and from its lip +another wave of men rose in the hopeless defense of their stronghold. + +“We’ll go up with the last,” Elje said quietly, glancing over her +shoulder at the men who remained. “One more wave and then—the last. +This way we’ll kill the greatest number before it’s over. Have you a +knife, Kern?” + +As she spoke a man with a dripping knife soared past them over the edge +of the platform, blood falling from a dozen wounds, face set in blind, +fanatic violence. Squarely before them they saw him falter in midair, +his gaze going past them to something in the shadow of the cave. +Abruptly then he stiffened, his chin jerked up and his wings folded back +as if they had been suddenly broken. He fell in a long slide, +momentum-borne and inert, and crashed at Elje’s very feet. + +She had her knife at his throat in a swift, lithe crouch before she saw +that no knife was necessary. Bewildered, she looked up at Kern. + +He stooped and took the wet blade from the man’s hand, wiped it on his +leather jerkin. + +“Don’t look back, Elje,” he warned her harshly. “Sam? Sam!” + +“It’s all right, Kern.” Sam Brewster’s voice had a dreadful sort of +amusement in it. “I’m not—looking.” + +Elje stared, speechless, into Kern’s face as the other mutant sauntered +up to join them in the shelter of a heap of rock at the edge of the +platform. Sam’s smile was thin and cold. The secondary lids veiled his +eyes, but a gleam in their depths glittered even through the film and +Kern looked hastily away. + +“What—what is it?” Elje faltered. “What killed this man?” + +“I did.” Sam was grinning without mirth. “Like this.” + +He turned away, face lifted, scanning the turmoil overhead where men +dived and soared on blood-dappled wings, clasped one another in deathly +embraces and hurtled earthward with knives flashing between them. At the +edge of the platform, only a dozen feet overhead, such a pair writhed in +gasping, murderous combat. As they watched, one man freed his knife-hand +and in the same motion drove the blade hilt-deep into the other’s chest! + +The killer’s wings spread and stiffened in anticipation of what was to +come, as his victim clutched convulsively at his shoulders in a last +effort to save himself. For an instant one man’s wings supported them +both. Then the dying man’s body went limp. Wings flaccid, he fell away +from the blade and went hurtling downward through the mists, twisting +and turning over while blood pumped from his chest. + +The killer paused for a moment in midair, breathing in deep gasps and +looking for another adversary. His glancing eyes crossed Sam Brewster’s. +For an instant he hung there, panting for breath, gaze locked with +Sam’s. + +The knife dropped from his loosened fingers. Eyes still wide, he heeled +over in the air stiffly. His wings broke backward and he fell after the +man he had just killed. They vanished almost together into the fog +below. + +Sam laughed grimly. When he turned the secondary lids were closed again +over his eyes. + +“I can kill anyone who catches my eyes, when they’re open,” he said. + +Elje did not understand the words, but his gesture was enough. She +caught her breath softly and looked away in sheer instinctive revulsion +from that deathly gaze. + +“Elje, we’ve got to do something,” Kern said. “Now, while we can. We’ve +got Sam. Kua and Byrna have their own powers, too. There’s no use +waiting here to be killed. If only we could get away.” + +“Where?” Elje asked somberly. “The Mountain could find us wherever we +went.” + +“We could go to the Mountain.” Kern’s voice was more confident than he +felt. “If it’s so anxious to see us dead, then it must be afraid of us. +Anyhow, that’s our only hope. Is there any way out except the way we +came here?” + +Elje gestured aloft. “Only up. And you can see how thick the vapors +are.” + +Kern glanced around the platform. There were perhaps fifty men remaining +on their feet, waiting to be thrown into the last wave of the defense. +He looked toward the cave-mouth and beckoned. Kua and Byrna hurried +across the platform toward him, their faces pale and anxious. + +“Kua,” he said. “A little while ago you found you could look through +walls. Look up. Do you think you could tell which of those vapors up +there are poisonous and which aren’t?” + +Kua’s face lifted: her single eye narrowed. For a long moment no one +spoke. + +“No, I’m not sure,” she said. “I can see a long way through to the clear +air. I can see that some of the fog flows in definite patterns, much +thicker than the rest. But what’s poison and what isn’t—no one could +tell that by looking, Kern.” + +“Is there a path through the places where the fog’s thin?” + +“Yes.” + +“We’ll have to take a chance on it, then. Maybe if it’s thin enough to +breathe, we can get through.” + + * * * * * + +Rapidly he told Elje what he hoped. “There are men enough left here to +give us a chance if we fight our way. Sam and Kua are worth enough to be +carried. I’ve never fought in the air and I wouldn’t be much help, so +I’ll carry Byrna. It’s worth trying, Elje. Better than waiting here to +be killed.” + +“Yes.” Elje’s voice was hopeless. “Better to die that way than this. All +right, Kern, we’ll go.” + +[Illustration: “Better to die that way than this,” said Elja. “All +right, Kern, we’ll go.”] + +She turned and shouted commands to the last men around her. A few +minutes later the remnant of the rebel band went soaring into the air. + +The platform fell away below. It was like plunging into a maelstrom of +shouts and cries, groans, gasps for breath, the deafening beat of many +wings. Blood rained about them, knives flashed and fell, bodies hurtled +past toward the ground. With Byrna’s light weight in his arms, Kern beat +heavily upward. Confidence had suddenly begun to glow in him, against +all reason. They would make it. He was irrationally sure of that. + +And they did. But not all of them. + +Sam Brewster was the one who fell. Almost at the last, when their +depleted band had reached nearly the dome of the vaporous tent, a flung +knife transfixed one of Sam’s bearers between the wings. He screamed, +arched backward, and fell. Someone beside him dived too late for the +reeling basket-seat in which Sam rode. The mutant pitched forward into +space and dropped without a cry. + +It would have been suicide to dive back into that maelstrom of death in +an effort to catch him. Sick at heart, Kern saw him fall twisting toward +the ground. He saw, too, how man after man of the swarm around him +stiffened and dropped after Sam on limp wings as the mutant’s lethal +gaze took his own escort of dead men around him to his death. + +Then they plunged into the choking mists overhead, and no one had time +to think of anything but his own breathing, his own urgent need to +follow exactly in the wing-path of Kua’s bearers as she guided them +through the fog. + + * * * * * + +Like a gigantic thunderhead the Mountain lifted its clear, pale bulk +into the zenith. The mind quailed from the very thought of such height; +it seemed to lean forward over the fliers and hover for a monumental +collapse that would crush the world. + +When they drew close, Byrna shuddered in Kern’s arms and turned like a +child to clasp his neck and hide her face on his shoulder. + +“I can feel it,” she said in a muffled voice. “It’s watching. It’s +trying to—to get into my mind. Don’t think, Kern. Don’t let it reach +you!” + +Kern was briefly aware of a hot, coiling ribbon of hatred that moved +through his brain and was gone as his mind slammed its gates of thought +against the intruder. It was not easy to force his wings to carry them +onward when his whole mind rebelled against drawing any nearer to the +Mountain. He saw revulsion on the faces around him too, and caught +uneasy glances cast sideward at his face. Their pace had perceptibly +slowed. + +“I don’t like it either, Elje,” he said to the winged girl across the +swimming void that flowed past far below. “But we’ve got to do it. What +choice have we, except to be killed? They may be following us from the +cave already. Our only hope’s to reach the Mountain where we _may_ do a +little damage before—” He did not finish. There was no need to finish. + +Now they were so near the wall of opalescence rising like the end of the +world before them that Kern could see their own reflections floating +distorted high up on the face of the cliff. + +“Is it glass?” he asked. + +“No one knows.” Elje controlled a shiver. “No one who came close enough +to find out ever returned. It may be just a—a solid mass. I don’t—” +She had glanced across her shoulder to answer him. Now her gaze went +further. + +“They’re following,” she said in a dull voice. “If it is solid, we’re +trapped.” + +Kern looked back. In a dark mass like a low, level cloud on the horizon, +the winged ranks of the enemy moved in their wake. + +Kua suddenly pointed. + +“Look ahead,” she said. “Up there on the cliff, to the left—is it a +cave? I—why, it’s opening wider!” + +Everyone looked eagerly. There was a moment’s silence. The Mountain too +seemed to wait and listen. But Kern saw no change in the face of the +cliff. Unbroken, unshadowed, opalescent, it lifted before them. + +Wind sighed past them toward the cliff, ruffling their wings. The sigh +grew stronger—was a rising sough of sound—a sough that soared to an +ear-stunning shriek. Headlong they whirled toward the Mountain, +helpless, drawn upon that sudden irresistible wind. Kern clutched Byrna +tighter and fought his wrenched wings as the cliff rose up in his face, +like a solid cloud. + +Dimly he could make out the shape of the opening at the same moment it +engulfed him. Stunned with surprise, he went tumbling into the cliffside +on that sucking wind, half-blinded by the opalescent mist which filled +the tunnel. It was like spinning through a solid, for the impalpable +stuff they flew through was indistinguishable to the eye from the stuff +of the Mountain itself. + +Light dimmed behind them as they were drawn helpless in tumbling flight +deeper and deeper into the heart of the cloud—the Mountain—there was +no term for what it was they sped through. + +The wind that bore them along slowed. The deafening noise of it fell and +was a sigh, a whisper—silence. For an instant they hung in opalescent +nothingness, gasping for breath. Then Kua’s voice sounded sweetly in the +hush. + +“Look back—look back! I can see the way we came. I can see it closing. +Like water flowing together. No, like running sand.” + +Kern ceased to hear her. For suddenly he was aware of an almost +imperceptible thickening in the mist around him. Something not seen, but +felt. A closing and a supporting, so that the weight of his body and +Byrna’s no longer hung wholly upon his wings. A solidifying in the very +air. + +He could not move. + + + + + CHAPTER VII + + _Combat_ + + +Relentlessly the Mountain which had opened to receive them had closed +again, gently and solidly. The little group of captives hung frozen in +the very postures of flight, spread-winged, hair still blowing in a wind +which no longer moved past them. They were frozen as if in a moment of +eternal Now, as if time had ceased to move and their own motions had +ceased with it. + +And then before them in the opalescent cloud of the Mountain a thin coil +of light began to glow. + +Swiftly it grew clearer. And Kern looked with the eyes of the body upon +that which he had seen before with the eyes of the mind. He felt the +malevolence beat out at them before the fire itself came wholly into +focus, strong hatred, curiously impersonal. It was the hatred of a +Mountain, a cloud, not a human hatred. + +The lazy, coiling ribbon moved through the solid fog, the foggy solid +glass, somewhere ahead of the captives. It was impossible to gauge +distances here, but the thing was close enough to see in every detail. +Its slowly writhing coil that drew in and out of its own folds with a +leisurely, never-ending motion. Its burning color that was hot to the +eye and hot to the perceptive mind with the heat of its consuming +hatred. + +Something lay within the coils. It was drawing its ribbon-folds +caressingly about that something. They could not yet see what. + +For an instant or two the great, slow, burning thing moved in its long +folds before them, blind and impersonal and hating. But then came a new +change. Then it looked at them. + +Spots of luminous darkness began to swim slowly through the coils. They +came and went. Whenever a coil moved itself to face the captives in the +solid glass, eye-spots swam upon that coil, flickering out again as the +fiery curve moved on. + +It watched. It waited and hated and was silent. + +That which lay within it, bathed in the caressing coils, began to move. +The coils altered their pattern to leave what they supported visible. +And Kern felt a shock of emptiness within him that made the vision blur +for a moment. When he looked again it was unmistakable and clear before +him. + +Bruce Hallam, lying quietly on the supporting coils, his eyes open and +regarding them as impersonally as the eyes that came and went upon the +ribbons of fire. + +“This—” Bruce Hallam said clearly “—is my world.” + +The words came to them as if through empty air, with a cold clarity that +allowed of no mistake. For it was not wholly Bruce Hallam who spoke. It +was a voice of fire too. Hatred and blinding light coiled through the +words as it coiled through the fog before their eyes. Two beings spoke +with the single voice, but two beings who were now one. + +Sudden memory flashed through Kern’s mind. He saw the long-ago, far-away +room again, where the little group of mutants had stepped from one +universe to another. He saw Bruce opening his steel door upon a waiting +world, searching it with his eyes, closing the door again. He understood +now. Bruce had known. Somehow, he had known in the single glance which +world held kinship for him and which did not. + +Bruce, with his mutant’s uncanny skill at creating out of any means at +hand the more-than-machinery which would do his bidding, had recognized +this world. Kern remembered with shock his own blindness when Elje had +described to him what the Mountain’s slaves, under its guidance, could +do with any material at hand—how, when they still suspected Kern of +complicity with the enemy, they had cleared his room of any matter out +of which he might build a weapon to destroy them. + +Yes, this world was Bruce Hallam’s—not Kern’s after all. A winged +world, yes, but a world under dominance. And Bruce’s was the dominant +realm. + +All this flashed through his mind with the swiftness of a single +thought, while Bruce’s coldly burning words still sounded in their ears. +He was remembering how impersonal Bruce had always been, how remote from +human feeling, when he heard the cold voice again. + +“There is no place in my world for you,” Bruce told them calmly. “There +is room only for the winged people—and Me. You come from malleable +flesh, a malleable heritage. I can not trust you here. My coming into +the world made a cyclone here in the Mountain, drawing out forces better +left untouched. I was helpless then. I could not save—myself—until I +was out of your reach. The time has come to destroy the last remnants of +those who defy me. And you mutants whose flesh I can not control must go +with the rest.” + +He did not stir, but the coiling flame moved with sudden quickened +speed, flowing toward them _through_ the imprisoning glass which held +the humans so inflexibly. Bruce, then, was only the voice of this +dreadful duo. The ribbon of flame was the body. + +A long loop of it moved lazily forward, falling gently like a silk +ribbon through air. After it the fiery length followed gracefully, +weaving in and out of its own folds, and within the folds, always +caressed by them streaming over and around his body, Bruce Hallam moved +too, rigidly, supported on the coiling loops, not a muscle of his own +limbs stirring. + + * * * * * + +Kern watched them come. He had no idea what would happen when the +burning coils touched the first human, but he could feel the white heat +of its malevolence flow before it. Helpless, voiceless in the grip of +the unyielding glass, he strained fiercely for—for—he did not know +what. Only to be free to fight even uselessly against the oncoming +enemy. + +Sharply the thought in his mind broke in two. He had known this cleavage +before, but the utter strangeness of it stunned him for a moment so that +his thoughts went blank while something, _something_ stirred incredibly +through his body. + +The old feeling of change, of unutterable newness, of an unguessed sense +opening within him like nothing man ever knew before. + +Three times he had known this feeling since he stepped into the winged +world. Three times he had crushed it down, fearing and hating it for its +threat of making him alien again, alien to the winged people he had +hoped would be his own. But this time he did not fight. This time, in +the violent, straining effort to break free, he broke instead some +barrier which had until now held back the new thing, the _something_ +which had burgeoned relentlessly within him ever since he came within +the Mountain’s realm. + +The glass walls that held him like a prisoner in ice grew dim and +vanished. His companions pilloried in glass beside him wavered into +darkness. He no longer felt the warmth of Byrna frozen in glass in his +arms. Everything was dark—even the slow—coiling ribbons that looped +leisurely toward him through solid substance. + +And then out of that darkness came light. All about him came light. And +it took a long moment for him to discover he was not seeing that light +with eyes. He was seeing it—incredibly, impossibly—with his whole +body. He saw everything around him in one all-encompassing range. + +“This is the way the Mountain sees,” he knew with sudden certainty. How +he knew it was not clear; it was a knowledge that came with the new +vision. He and the Mountain, they shared a common faculty. + +Motion far away caught his fathomless attention and he was looking out +through the clouded side of the Mountain and seeing, as if he stood +before them, the flight of the oncoming winged men who had followed the +fugitives from the eyrie. They were nearly here now, approaching the +monstrous cliff as blindly as if they meant to dash themselves to death +against it. + +With the same all-embracing sight, Kern was aware of the people frozen +around him into the glass, and of the looping coils that flowed toward +them, and of Bruce Hallam, rigid as an image of stone, moving with the +moving ribbons. + +But they looked very different now. The people. + +He knew their faces, the familiar outlines of their bodies, but he could +see through the bodies with his new vision. And the appalling thing he +saw was not the structure of bone and muscle and nerve which a part of +his mind expected there. These things were only pale shadows upon +the—the _other_. + +The people were rings of flat, luminous color, disc upon disc of it, +superimposed, overlapping, no two people with the same patterns or the +same colors. And he knew that the muscular structure humans are aware +of, the skeleton, the nerves, are only a part of what comprises them. +Only a part—and not the part important to the Mountain. The Mountain +ruled by other means. + +Every flying man approaching outside the cliff had one thing in common +with his fellows. Each was made up of ring after ring of colors, +brilliant arcs and half-moons lying one upon another and in continual +delicate shifting motion. But in each, and moving slowly over the rings, +a circle of luminous darkness swung. Darkness like the eyes which swam +up to the surface of the coiling ribbons that embraced Bruce Hallam. An +eye—the eye of the Mountain. + +That was the thing the Mountain used in them to transmit its commands, +then. The point of contact in each man that made him a slave when the +orders came. + +There was no such eye in any of the people imprisoned around Kern. He +saw his own body with this new vision, rings and discs of color like the +rest, and with no dark, circling spot that meant the Mountain owned him. + +The Mountain is a creature of glass, he told himself clearly. Its body +is this opalescent stuff which is solid or gas as the Mountain wills. It +can make tunnels and caverns like open mouths through it and close them +again. And its brain, its motivating force, is the ribbon of fire, +endless, revolving upon itself in the center. It has many strange +senses. One of them I share now. + +He thought: When we came here, we somehow brought on a cyclone of +violent forces drawn from the Mountain itself. Because Bruce Hallam had +an inhuman kinship with the entity which dwells here. But it was an +entity so strong, so accustomed to mold the minds of its victims and use +them like tools to create other tools, that we ourselves were reshaped +without knowing it. + +This strange new sense began very early to take shape in me. Kua reacted +too, and Byrna. Sam? I don’t know. He’s gone. But as for me, I have +changed. + +Something stirred mysteriously through his flesh, and without the need +to look down, Kern’s horizon-circling vision told him that light had +begun to glow in him—fire—long, rolling loops of fire that stretched +with incredible flexibility _through_ the solid glass imprisoning him. + + * * * * * + +The ribbon of fire upon which Bruce’s body rode paused in its motion, +hesitated, almost drew back. Kern felt dimly its surprise and its +strange, inhuman hatred. But only dimly, for his own mind was too +stunned with this final revelation to let any other feeling through. + +Too malleable, he thought despairingly—flesh too malleable to hold its +own form under the irresistible altering pull that was the Mountain. And +now through the icy glass which held the humans rigid, two shapes of +coiling flame turned lazily over and over—one shape supporting a human +body and glowing incandescent with malevolence, the other still too +amazed for emotion, but stretching its new limbs of fire with a sort of +reluctant, voluptuous luxury as the endless ribbon rolled in +convolutions of flame in and out of its own length. A strange, inhuman +luxury, this, to stretch upon the firm, permeable glass, moving through +it as light might move, in a dimension of its own. + +Hatred like a blast of furnace-heat struck upon Kern’s new awareness +with an impact that jolted him out of this bewildering mental fog. Hate +and fear. He had felt that blast before, invisibly in the voids of +thought, and terror had come with it so that he fled blindly to escape. +But this time fear did not follow after the hate. This time he welcomed +conflict. + +“Now we’re equals—matched equals,” he told himself, and felt even in +this moment of danger and surprise the utter difference of his own mind +through which thoughts moved slowly and clearly, like his new limbs +through the solidity of the glass. If he had ever owned a body of flesh +and blood, it was his no longer. If his mind had ever dwelt there and +shaped its thoughts to the contours of brain and skull, they were shaped +no longer. This was new, new, terrible and wonderful beyond human +understanding. + +Slow exultation began to burn in him as he rolled the great coils of +fire which were his body toward that which until now had dwelt here +alone. Now the Mountain had a double mind—if the fiery ribbon was +indeed the mind of the thing—but moving still through a single gigantic +body of opalescent glass. And within that vast body, the doubled mind +moved upon itself in suicidal combat. + +Hatred was a bath of flame that engulfed him as their farthest coiling +loops touched—touched and engaged with sudden violence. But Kern was +not afraid now, not repelled. With a surging lunge he tested the +strength in that shape which was the twin of his own. The ribbons +writhed and strained. Then they paused for a moment and drew back in +mutual consent. And simultaneously, as if hurled by a single mind, +lunged forward again. + +This time the fiery limbs entangled until their full endlessly revolving +lengths were wholly engaged with one another and the two identical +shapes of rolling fire strove furiously together in a single knot that +boiled with ceaseless motion. + +Hatred burned and bubbled all around Kern’s awareness as he strove coil +against coil with the enemy. But it did not touch him any more. He felt +no fear. And when he began to realize that he could not vanquish this +being by strength alone, not even then did he feel fear. Emotion was +gone from him. Coil by coil he tested the thing he strove with, and coil +by coil he found it braced irresistibly against his greatest strength. +He could not swerve it by a single loop. + +But it could not swerve him. Matched in strength as they were in shape, +the two creatures of flame lay for a moment upon the clouded ice, limb +straining against limb in a perilous balance that permitted of no +motion. + +Then, very delicately, the awareness that had been Kern reached out with +a sense he had not until this moment known he possessed, and touched the +frozen body of Bruce Hallam. For he knew now that he and this enemy were +too perfectly matched for either to prevail, unless one or the other +found a lever by which his adversary could be overthrown. + +Was it Bruce? Gently, and then with increasing pressure, he tried that +rigid, unyielding body which had once been human. There was +nothing—nothing. Not even the discs of overlapping color which the +still-human exhibited to his new sight moved through Bruce’s limbs. He +was solid, unmoving, a shape of nothingness, and no sense could touch +him. No, Bruce was not the source through which strength might be +drained from the enemy. + +What, then? Kern asked himself with passionless consideration. And the +answer came clearly and unhurried, as if it had waited only this query +to reply. + +The winged men waiting outside the mountain—that was the answer. + +Almost outstripping the thought, his sight and his strange new senses +leaped to the surface of the Mountain. There the slaves hung on +stretched wings, tilting to the updrafts from below, circling and +soaring and waiting in mindless obedience for the command that would +release them from their mental thrall. + +Once he had seen them as winged humans fighting with fanatic violence. +Now they were only shapes of overlapping discs, full of slowly turning +motion, and in each the Eye of the Mountain swimming leisurely over the +surface of the colors. + +_The Eye_, he thought. The Eye! + + * * * * * + +Like a new, unguessed arm his awareness shot out and plunged into the +nearest spot of darkness which swam over the colored discs. Plunged +in—groped for contact—and tapped a source of flame. Up through the arm +the flame leaped, and into Kern’s body of matching flame. Almost +imperceptibly he felt the straining coils of the enemy give beneath the +pressure of his own. + +Another, and another and another of the flying shapes gave up its tiny +source of fire, and Kern’s strength grew with each. The combat which had +hung motionless in mutual violence now writhed suddenly into action +again as the balance was destroyed. But the fury of the enemy seemed to +double too as it felt itself bent backward upon its own fiery coils. + +What had been combat before the stasis turned into abrupt turmoil now. +The two ribbons of flame convulsed together, lashing and whipping into +an incandescent fury of struggle. And Kern knew in a timeless moment or +two that even this was not enough. He must find some last source of +power to give him the victory. + +The arm with which he had robbed the flying men of their Eyes groped, +plunged deeper, seeking more power within them. And amazingly, found it. + +For an instant Kern could not understand why strength in a full, deep +tide flowed into him as the light began to fail in his enemy. And then +he understood, and a surge of triumph for the first time glowed through +his whole being. + +For in giving its strength to its slaves, that it might command them, +the Enemy had opened a channel which ran both ways. And in draining the +slaves, Kern found himself draining the Enemy itself—reaching back and +back through each slave into the source from which that strength came. + +From a score, a hundred channels, the Mountain must have felt its own +power drain away. Its power, but not its hate. Kern could feel the +sheer, inhuman malevolence burning about him in great washes of flame as +the strength of the coils against his grew steadily weaker. The fire +sank down within it, dimming and fading as the creature bled its own +power away—bled flame, and slowly, slowly died! + +The turning ribbons of light no longer moved against Kern’s awareness. +His limbs engulfed not a luminous involuted band, but a thin, pale +hatred which fell apart as he drew his own body back. It fell apart into +a tiny rain of droplets, each of them dancing with its own seed of hate. +Twinkling, fading, and the hatred fading with them, until they were +gone. + +Kern felt change all about him, in the substance of the Mountain itself. +A vast, imponderable shifting of the clouded glass, a falling apart of +the atoms which composed it, as its soul of fire had fallen. The +opalescent stuff was a fog—a mist—a thin, dissipating gas which no +longer supported him. The cold of clear air struck terribly upon his +fiery limbs as the Mountain dissolved from about him. He convulsed upon +himself in a knot of flame that seemed to consume itself and to +cease—to cease— + + * * * * * + +Everything was blank around him. Neither dark nor light, but void. He +hung motionless upon nothing. He was no longer a shape of flame. He was +no longer a shape of flesh. He was nothing, nowhere. + +This was infinity, where time was not. For milleniums, he thought, he +drifted there upon oblivion. Milleniums, or moments! + +From far away a something began to be. He did not recognize it—he knew +only that where nothingness had been, now there was a something. He +heard a call. That was it, a call, a sound of incredible sweetness. + +A voice? Yes, it was a voice of sheer melody, saying a name. He did not +know the name. + +“Kern—Kern,” it cried. The syllable had no meaning to him, but the +sweetness of the voice that shaped it gradually began to rouse him from +his stupor. Over and over the syllable sounded, and then with a sudden +blaze of awareness he knew it for what it was. + +“My name!” he thought with amazement. “My own name!” + +The mind came back into him, and he knew. Like Bruce Hallam, he had hung +frozen and empty from the touch of the all-consuming fire which had been +himself. Like Bruce, he had been emptier than death. + +“Kern, Kern, come back,” wailed the voice of impossible sweetness. He +knew it now. Byrna’s voice, lovely as a siren’s magical song, summoning +him back to the living. + +[Illustration: He heard a voice of impossible sweetness, and slowly, +slowly, he felt warmth return to him.] + +Slowly, slowly, he felt warmth return to him. Slowly he drew his mind +together again, and then his body came back around him, and with +infinite effort he lifted the eyelids that shut out the world. + +He lay on a hillside in the full warm tide of the sunlight which poured +down from an empty sky. There was no Mountain any more. No vertiginous +thunderhead of glass towering up the zenith, casting its pale shadow +across the world. Someone bent over him, holding her wings to shut the +sun’s glare from his eyes. Her wings glistened. + +Tentatively he flexed his own. And then strength came back with a +magical rush to him, and he sat up with a strong beat of his pinions +that almost lifted him from the ground. All around him smiling faces +watched in the shadow of their wings. + +And he knew that he was free at last, and the winged world was free. And +he was no longer alien. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 68378 *** diff --git a/68378-h/68378-h.htm~ b/68378-h/68378-h.htm~ new file mode 100644 index 0000000..937b8a3 --- /dev/null +++ b/68378-h/68378-h.htm~ @@ -0,0 +1,2717 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Way of the Gods, by Henry Kuttner. + </title> + <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> + + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.caption p +{ + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; + margin: 0.25em 0; +} + +x-ebookmaker-drop {display: none;} + +div.titlepage { + text-align: center; + page-break-before: always; + page-break-after: always; +} + +div.titlepage p { + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + font-weight: bold; + line-height: 1.5; + margin-top: 3em; +} + +.ph1 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } +.ph1 { font-size: large; margin: .67em auto; } + +.ph2 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } +.ph2 { font-size: medium; margin: .67em auto; } + + + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 68378 ***</div> + +<div class="figcenter x-ebookmaker-drop"> + <img src="images/illusc.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class="titlepage"> + +<h1>WAY OF THE GODS</h1> + +<h2>By HENRY KUTTNER</h2> + +<p><i>Spawn of atomic fission, this strange company<br /> +of mutants exiled by humanity battles against<br /> +enslavement in a foreign world dominated by<br /> +the evil Spirit of the Crystal Mountain!</i></p> + +<p>[Transcriber’s Note: This etext was produced from<br /> +Thrilling Wonder Stories, April 1947.<br /> +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> +the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p class="ph1">CHAPTER I</p> + +<p class="ph2"><i>New Worlds</i></p> + + +<p>He looked at the October morning all about him as if he had never seen +October before. That was not true, of course. But he knew that he would +never see it again. Unless they had mornings, and Octobers—where he was +going. It did not seem likely, though the old man had talked a great +deal about key-patterns and the selectivity of the machine, and the +multiple universes spinning like motes in a snowstorm through infinity.</p> + +<p>“But I’m human!” he said aloud, sitting cross-legged on the warm brown +earth and feeling the breeze which gave the lie instantly to his +thought. He felt the gentle pull at his shoulder-blades which meant that +his wings were fluttered a little by the breeze, and instinctively he +flexed the heavy bands of muscle across his chest to control the +wing-surfaces.</p> + +<p>He was not human. That was the trouble. And this world, this bright +October world that stretched to the horizon around him was made to +shelter the race that had become dominant, and was jealous of its +dominion. Humanity, that had no place for strangers among its ranks.</p> + +<p>The others did not seem to care very much. They had been reared in the +creche almost from birth, under a special regime that isolated them from +the humans. The old man had been responsible for that. He had built the +huge house on the hillside, swooping curves of warmly-colored plastic +that blended into the brown and green of the land—an asylum that had +finally failed. The walls were breached.</p> + +<p>“Kern,” someone behind him said.</p> + +<p>The winged man turned his head, glancing up past the dark curve of his +wings. A girl came toward him down the slope from the house. Her name +was Kua. Her parents had been Polynesian, and she had the height and the +lithe grace of her Oceanic race, and the shining dark hair, the warm, +honey-colored skin. But she wore opaque dark glasses, and across her +forehead a band of dark plastic that looked opaque too, and was not. +Beneath, her face was lovely, the red mouth generously curved, the +features softly rounded like the features of all her race.</p> + +<p>She was not human either.</p> + +<p>“It’s no use worrying, Kern,” she said, smiling down at him. “It’ll work +out all right. You’ll see.”</p> + +<p>“All right!” Kern snorted scornfully. “You think so, do you?”</p> + +<p>Kua glanced instinctively around the hillside, making sure they were +alone. Then she put both hands to her face and slipped off the glasses +and the dark band from her forehead. Kern, meeting the gaze of her +bright blue eye, was conscious again of the little shock he always felt +when he looked into her uncovered face.</p> + +<p>For Kua was a cyclops. She had one eye centered in her forehead. And she +was—when the mind could accept her as she was, not as she should be—a +beautiful woman in spite of it. That blue brilliance in the dusky face +had a depth and luster beyond the eyes of humans. Heavy lashes ringed +it, and the gaze could sink fathom upon fathom in her eye and never +plumb its depths.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Kua’s eye was a perfect lens. Whatever lens can do, her eye could do. No +one could be sure just what miraculous mechanisms existed beyond the +blue surface, but she could see to a distance almost beyond the range of +the ordinary telescope and she could focus down upon the microscopic. +And there may have been other things the single eye could do. One did +not question one’s companions too closely in this house of the +mutations.</p> + +<p>“You’ve been with us two years, Kern,” she was saying now. “Only two +years. You don’t know yet how strong we are, or how much we can +accomplish among us. Bruce Hallam knows what he’s doing, Kern. He never +works on theories. Or if he does, the theories become truth. He has a +mind like that. You don’t know us, Kern!”</p> + +<p>“You can’t fight a whole world.”</p> + +<p>“No. But we can leave it.” She smiled, and he knew she saw nothing of +the golden morning all around them. She knew nothing, really, of the +cities that dotted the world of 1980, or the lives that were so +irrevocably alien to her. They should have been alien to Kern too, but +not until he was eighteen had the wings begun to grow upon his +shoulders.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, Kua,” he said. “I’m not sure I want to. I had a father +and a mother—brothers—friends.”</p> + +<p>“Your parents are your greatest enemies,” she told him flatly. “They +gave you life.”</p> + +<p>He looked away from the penetrating stare of that great blue single eye +and past her at the big plastic house. That had been asylum, after the +massacre of 1967—asylum against the hordes bent on extirpating the +freakish monsters created by atomic radiation. He could not remember, of +course, but he had read about it, never guessing then that such a thing +would ever apply to him. The old man had told him the story.</p> + +<p>First had come the atomic war, brief, terrible, letting loose nameless +radiations upon the world. And then had followed the wave upon wave of +freak births among those exposed to it. Genes and chromosomes altered +beyond comprehension. Monstrous things were born of human parents.</p> + +<p>One in ten, perhaps, had been a successful mutation. And even those were +dangerous to homo sapiens.</p> + +<p>Evolution is like a roulette wheel. The conditions of the earth favor +certain types of mutation capable of survival. But atomic energies had +upset the balance, and mutations spawned in sheer madness began to +spread. Not many, of course. Not many were viable. But two-headed things +were born—and lived—along with geniuses and madmen. World Council had +studied the biological and social problem for a long time before it +recommended euthanasia. Man’s evolution had been planned and charted. It +must not be allowed to swerve from the track, or chaos would be let +loose.</p> + +<p>Geniuses, mutant humans with abnormally high I.Q.’s, were allowed to +survive. Of the others, none lived after they had been detected. +Sometimes they were difficult to detect. By 1968 only the true-line +mutations, faithful to the human biological norm, were alive—with +certain exceptions.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Such as the old man’s son, Sam Brewster. He was a freak, with a +certain—talent. A superhuman talent. The old man had disobeyed the +Government law, for he had not sent the infant to the labs for checking +and testing—and annihilation. Instead, he had built this great house, +and the boy had never gone far beyond its grounds.</p> + +<p>Gradually then, partly to provide the youth with companionship, partly +out of compassion, the father had begun to gather others together. +Secretly, a mutant infant here, a mutant child there, he brought them +in, until he had a family of freaks in the big plastic house. He had not +taken them haphazardly. Some would not have been safe to live with. Some +were better dead from the start But those with something to offer beyond +their freakishness, he found and sheltered.</p> + +<p>It was the bringing in of Kern that gave the secret away. The boy had +gone too long among ordinary humans, while his wings grew. He was +eighteen, and his pinions had a six-foot spread, when old Mr. Brewster +found him. His family had tried to keep him hidden, but the news was +leaking out already when he left for the Brewster asylum, and in the +years since it had spread until the authorities at last issued their +ultimatum.</p> + +<p>“It was my fault,” Kern said bitterly. “If it hadn’t been for me, you’d +never have been molested.”</p> + +<p>“No.” Kua’s deep, luminous eye fixed his. “Sooner or later you know +they’d have found us. Better let it happen now, while we’re all still +young and adaptable. We can go and enjoy going, now.” Her voice shook a +little with deep excitement. “Think of it, Kern! New worlds! Places +beyond the earth, where there could be people like us!”</p> + +<p>“But Kua, I’m human! I feel human. I don’t want to leave. This is where +I belong!”</p> + +<p>“You say that because you grew up among normal people. Kern, you’ve got +to face it. Tire only place for any of us is—somewhere away.”</p> + +<p>“I know.” He grinned wryly. “But I don’t have to like it. Well—we’d +better go back. They’ll have the ultimatum by now, I suppose. May as +well hear it. I know what the answer is. Don’t you?”</p> + +<p>She nodded, watching his involuntary glance around the empty blue sky, +the warm October hills. A world for humans. But for humans alone....</p> + +<p>Back in the Brewster plastic asylum, the inmates had assembled.</p> + +<p>“There isn’t much time,” old Mr. Brewster said. “They’re on their way +here now, to take you all back for euthanasia.”</p> + +<p>Sam Brewster laughed harshly.</p> + +<p>“We could show ’em a few tricks.”</p> + +<p>“No. You can’t fight the whole world. You could kill many of them, but +it wouldn’t do any good. Bruce’s machine is the only hope for you all.” +His voice broke a little. “It’s going to be a lonely world for me, +children, after you’ve gone.”</p> + +<p>They looked at him uncomfortably, this strange, unrelated family of +freak mutations, scarcely more than the children he had called them, but +matured beyond their years by their strange rearing.</p> + +<p>“There are worlds beyond counting, as you know,” Bruce said precisely. +“Infinite numbers—worlds where we might not be freaks at all. Somewhere +among them there must be places where each of our mutations is a norm. +I’ve set the machine to the aggregate pattern of us all and it’ll find +our equivalents—something to suit one of us at least. And the others +can go on looking. I can build the machine in duplicate on any world, +anywhere, where I can live at all.” He smiled, and his strange light +eyes glowed.</p> + +<p>It was curious, Kern thought, how frequently in mutations the eyes were +the giveaway. Kua, of course. And Sam Brewster with his terrible veiled +glance protected by its secondary lid which drew back only in anger. And +Bruce Hallam, whose strangeness was not visible but existed only in the +amazing intricacies of his brain, looked upon the alien world with eyes +that mirrored the mysteries behind them.</p> + +<p>Bruce knew machinery—call it machinery for lack of a more comprehensive +word—with a knowledge that was beyond learning. He could produce +miracles with any set of devices his fingers could contrive. He seemed +to sense by sheer instinct the courses of infinite power, and harness +them with the simplest ease, the simplest mechanics.</p> + +<p>There was a steel cubicle in the corner of the room with a round steel +door which had taken Bruce a week to set up. Over it a panel burned with +changing light, flickering through the spectrum and halting now and then +upon clear red. When it was red, then the—the world—upon which the +steel door opened was a world suitable for the little family of +mutations to enter. The red light meant it could support human life, +that it paralleled roughly the world they already knew, and that +something in its essential pattern duplicated the pattern of at least +one of the mutant group.</p> + +<p>Kern was dizzy when he thought of the sweep of universes past that door, +world whirling upon world where no human life could dwell, worlds of gas +and flame, worlds of ice and rock. And, one in a countless number, a +world of sun and water like their own....</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>It was incredible. But so were the wings at his own back, so was Kua’s +cyclopean eye, and Sam Brewster’s veiled gaze, and so was the brain in +Bruce Hallam’s skull, which had built a bridge for them all.</p> + +<p>He glanced around the group. Sitting back against the wall, in shadow, +Byrna, the last of the mutant family, lifted her gray gaze to his. +Compassion touched him as always when he met her eyes.</p> + +<p>Byrna was physically the most abnormal of them all, in her sheer +smallness. She came scarcely to Kern’s elbow when she was standing. She +was proportioned perfectly in the scale of her size, delicate, fragile +as something of glass. But she was not beautiful to look at. There was a +wrongness about her features that made them pathetically ugly, and the +sadness in her gray eyes seemed to mirror the sadness of all misfit +things.</p> + +<p>Byrna’s voice had magic in it, and so did her brain. Wisdom came as +simply to her as knowledge came to Bruce Hallam, but she had infinitely +more warmth than he. Bruce, Kern sometimes thought, would dismember a +human as dispassionately as he would cut wire in two if he needed the +material for an experiment. Bruce looked the most normal of them all, +but he would not have passed the questioning of the most superficial +mental examination.</p> + +<p>Now his voice was impatient. “What are we waiting for? Everything’s +ready.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you must go quickly,” the old man said. “Look—the light’s coming +toward red now, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>The panel above the steel door was orange. As they watched it shifted +and grew ruddier. Bruce went silently forward and laid his hand on the +lever that opened the panel. When the light was pure red he pushed the +steel bar down.</p> + +<p>In half-darkness beyond the opening a gust of luminous atoms blew across +a craggy horizon. Against it there was a suggestion of towers and arches +and columns, and lights that might have been aircraft swung in steady +orbits above.</p> + +<p>No one spoke. After a moment Bruce closed the door again, grimacing. The +light above it hovered toward a reddish purple and then turned blue.</p> + +<p>“Not that world,” Bruce said. “We’ll try again.”</p> + +<p>In the shadow Byrna murmured:</p> + +<p>“It doesn’t matter—any world will be the same for us.” Her voice was +pure music.</p> + +<p>“Listen! Do you hear planes?” the old man said. “It’s time, children. +You must go.”</p> + +<p>There was silence. Every eye watched the lighted panel. Colors hovered +there to and fro through the spectrum. A faint ruddiness began to glow +again.</p> + +<p>“This time we’ll take it if it looks all right,” Bruce said, and laid +his hand again upon the lever.</p> + +<p>The light turned red. Soundlessly the round door swung open.</p> + +<p>Sunlight came through, low green hills, and the clustered roofs of a +town were visible a little distance away in a valley.</p> + +<p>Without a word or a backward glance Bruce stepped through the door. One +by one the others moved after him, Kern last. Kern’s lips were pressed +together and he did not glance behind him. He could have seen the hills +of earth beyond the windows, and the blue October sky. He would not look +at them. He shrugged his wings together and stooped to enter the gateway +of the new world.</p> + +<p>Behind them the old man watched in silence, seeing the work of his +lifetime ending before his eyes. The gulf between them was too broad for +leaping. He was human and they were not. Across a vast distance, vaster +than the gulf between worlds, he saw the family of the mutations step +over their threshold and vanish forever.</p> + +<p>He closed the door after them. The red light faded above it. He turned +toward his own door where the knocking of World Council’s police had +already begun to summon him to his accounting.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p class="ph1">CHAPTER II</p> + +<p class="ph2"><i>His Own Kind</i></p> + + +<p>Above them, the sky was blue. The five aliens who were alien to all +worlds alike stood together on a hilltop looking down.</p> + +<p>“It’s beautiful,” Kua said. “I’m glad we chose this one. But I wonder +what the next one would have been like if we could have waited.”</p> + +<p>“It will be the same no matter where we go,” Byrna’s infinitely sweet +voice murmured.</p> + +<p>“Look at the horizon,” Bruce said. “What is it?”</p> + +<p>They saw then the first thing that marked this world alien to earth. For +the most part it might have been any hilly wooded land they knew from +the old place; even the roofs of the village looked spuriously familiar. +But the horizon was curiously misted, and before them, far off, +rose—something—to an impossible height halfway up the zenith.</p> + +<p>“A mountain?” Kern asked doubtfully. “It’s too high, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“A glass mountain,” Kua said. “Yes, it is glass—or plastic? I can’t be +sure.”</p> + +<p>She had uncovered her single eye and the shining pupil was contracted as +she gazed over impossible distances at the equally impossible bulk of +that thing on the horizon. It rose in a vast sweep of opalescent color, +like a translucent thundercloud hanging over the whole land. Knowing it +for a mountain, the mind felt vertiginous at the thought of such +tremendous bulk towering overhead.</p> + +<p>“It looks clear,” Kua said. “All the way through. I can’t tell what’s +beyond it. Just an enormous mountain made out of—of plastic? I wonder.”</p> + +<p>Kern was aware of a tugging at his wing-surfaces, and glanced around in +quick recognition of the strengthening breeze. He was the first to +notice it.</p> + +<p>“It’s beginning to blow. And listen—do you hear?”</p> + +<p>It grew louder as they stood there, a shrill, strengthening whine in the +air coming from the direction of the cloudlike mountain. A whine that +grew so rapidly they had scarcely recognized it as noise before it was +deafening all about them, and the wind was like a sudden hurricane.</p> + +<p>That passed in a gust, noise and wind alike, leaving them breathless and +staring at one another in dismay.</p> + +<p>“Look, over there, quick!” Kua said, “Another one’s coming!”</p> + +<p>Far off, but moving toward them with appalling speed, came a monstrous +spinning tower of—light? Smoke? They could not be sure.</p> + +<p>It whirled like a waterspout in a typhoon, vast, bending majestically +and righting itself again, and the air spun with it, and the wild, +shrill screaming began again.</p> + +<p>The vortex of brilliance passed them far to the left, catching them in +its shrieking hurricane of riven air and then releasing them again into +shaken silence. But there was another one on its way before they had +caught their breath again, a whirling, bowing tower that spun screeching +off toward the right. And after it another, and close behind that, a +fourth.</p> + +<p>The noise and the violence of the wind stunned Kern so that he had no +idea what was happening to the others on the hilltop. He was susceptible +because of his wings. The hurricane caught him up and whirled him +sideward down the slope—shrieking in his ears with a noise so great it +was almost silence, beyond the range of sound.</p> + +<p>Stunned, he struggled for balance, leaning against the rushing wall of +air as solid as a wall of stone. For a moment or two he kept the ground +underfoot. Then his wings betrayed him and, in spite of himself, he felt +the six-foot pinions blown wide and the muscles ached across his chest +with the violence of the wind striking their spread surfaces.</p> + +<p>The horizon tilted familiarly as he swooped in a banking curve. The +glass mountain for a moment hung overhead and he looked straight down at +the wooded hills, seeing tiny blowing figures reeling across the slopes +in the grip of the hurricane winds. Hanging here far above the treetops, +he could see that the monsters of whirling light were coming thicker and +faster across the hilltops, striding like giants, trailing vortices of +wind and sound in their wake. For an instant he swung in the grip of the +hurricane, watching the vast whirling spindles moving and bowing +majestically across the face of the new earth.</p> + +<p>Then the vortex caught him again and he was spun blindly into the heart +of the whirlwind, deafened with its terrible screaming uproar, wrenched +this way and that upon aching wings, too dizzy for fear or thought. Time +ceased. Half senseless, he was whirled to and fro upon the irresistible +winds. He closed his eyes against flying dust, locked his hands over his +ears to shut out the deafening shrill of the blast and let the hurricane +do with him as it would.</p> + +<p>Kern felt a hand on his arm and roused himself out of a half-stupor.</p> + +<p>He thought, I must be on the ground again, and made an instinctive +effort to sit up. The motion threw him into a ludicrous spin and he +opened his eyes wide to see the earth whirling far below him.</p> + +<p>He was coasting at terrific speed through the upper air upon a cold, +screaming highway of wind, and moving easily beside him, riding on broad +pinions like his own, a girl paralleled his flight.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Long pale hair streamed behind her away from her blue-eyed face, whipped +to pinkness by the blast. She was calling something to him, but the +words were snatched from her lips by the wind and he heard nothing +except that shrill, continuous howling all around them. He could see +that she held him by one arm, and with her free hand was pointing +downward vehemently. He could not hear her words, and knew he probably +could not understand them if he did, but the gesture’s meaning he could +not mistake.</p> + +<p>Nodding, he shrugged his left wing high and arched his body for a long +downward spiral toward the ground. The girl turned with him, and +together they glided sidewise across the rushing air-currents, +delicately tacking against the wind, picking their way by instinctive +muscular reactions of the spread pinions, while below them the ground +swayed and turned like a fluid sea.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""/> + <div class="caption"> + <p>Together they glided across the rushing air currents.</p> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p>Kern glided downward on a wave of exultation like nothing he had ever +experienced before in his life. He knew little about this world or about +the girl beside him, but one thing stood out clearly—he was no longer +alone. No longer the only winged being on an alien planet. And this long +downward glide, like the motion of perfect dancers responding each to +the other’s most delicate motion, was the most satisfying thing he had +ever known.</p> + +<p>For the first time he realized one of the great secrets of a flying +race—to fly alone is to know only half the joy of flying. When another +winged being moves beside you on the airways, speed matching speed, +wings beating as one, then at last you taste the full ecstasy of flight.</p> + +<p>Kern was breathless with joy and excitement when the ground swooped up +at them and he banked against the rush of his glide. With suddenly +fluttering wings, he reversed his position in the air and felt with both +feet for the solid earth. He had to run a little to cut down his speed, +and the girl ran beside him, breathless and laughing a bit as she ran.</p> + +<p>When they came to a halt and swung to face one another the long ashen +hair blew forward in a cloud that had caught up with her at last, and +she fought it, laughing, and brushed back the tangled mass with both +hands, the pale wings the exact color of her hair folding back from her +shoulders.</p> + +<p>He saw now that she wore a tight tunic of some very fine, supple +leather, and long tight boots of the same material. The hilt of a +jeweled knife stood up against her ribs from a jeweled belt.</p> + +<p>Around them the wind still blew cold and shrill, but the blast of it was +slackening noticeably and warmth was creeping back little by little into +the air. They stood on a wooded hill, under trees whose whipping +branches added to the tumult of noise, and Kern could see a broad vista +of the land before him, with no more of the vast bending giants of the +hurricane moving across it. The storm must be over, he thought.</p> + +<p>The girl spoke. She had a pleasant contralto voice, and the language she +spoke was slightly guttural and of course entirely strange. Kern saw the +surprise and doubt on her face when she saw that he did not understand +her.</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re a pretty thing. I wish we could talk to +each other.”</p> + +<p>She matched his smile, but the bewilderment deepened on her face.</p> + +<p>Kern thought, She can’t believe I don’t know her language. Could that +mean there’s only one tongue spoken in this world? It’s wishful +thinking—I want so much to believe it! Because that might mean the +people here are all winged, and move around so easily that separate +languages haven’t had a chance to evolve.</p> + +<p>His heart was beating faster, with an eagerness that he found a little +ludicrous. He had never suspected even in his own dreams how much it +would mean to him to belong at last to a race that could accept him as +one of its own. Bruce Hallam had set his machine in the aggregate +pattern of the whole mutant group, knowing as he did so how unlikely it +was that more than one of them could hope for an equivalent world on a +single planet. But Bruce’s skill being what it was, Kern told himself +there was no reason to be surprised that the expected had happened.</p> + +<p>This world was his own. A winged world. He was luckiest and first of the +group to find a place where he belonged. Exultation closed up his throat +with the joy of being no longer alien.</p> + +<p>“Or maybe I’m building too much on one example,” he warned himself +aloud. “Are we all winged in this world, girl? Say something, quick. I +want to learn your language! Answer me, girl—are you an alien too, or +is this the world where I belong?”</p> + +<p>She laughed at him, recognizing the half-serious tone of his voice +though the words meant nothing. And then her glance went across his +shoulder, and a look of subtle withdrawal crossed her face. She said +something in her guttural tongue and nodded toward the trees behind +Kern.</p> + +<p>He turned. A third winged figure was walking toward them under the +still-roaring trees, wings whipped by the wind until the newcomer +staggered now and then when the full blast caught him.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Kern was aware at first only of profound thankfulness. Another winged +person was almost the answer to his remaining doubt. Where there were +two, surely there must be many.</p> + +<p>This was a man. Like the girl, he wore thin, tight leather and a dagger +at his belt. His hair was red, and so were his silky wings, but his face +was duskily tanned and Kern caught the flash of sidelong, light eyes as +the man approached them. He saw, too, in another moment, that the +newcomer was a hunchback. Between the shining reddish wings the man’s +back was slightly crooked, so that he looked up at them with his head +awry. He had a young face, with beautiful clear planes, beneath the +darkness of his tan.</p> + +<p>“Gerd—” the girl called, and then hesitated. He flashed the light eyes +at her, and Kern decided it was probably his name.</p> + +<p>The pale gaze moved back to Kern, and watched him searchingly as the +hunchback fought the wind to the shelter of their tree. The man was +wary, ready for distrust before he so much as saw Kern’s face. It was +odd, in a way.</p> + +<p>They talked, the girl excitedly in her contralto voice, guttural words +tumbling over each other. Gerd’s answers were brief, in an unexpectedly +deep tone. Presently he unsheathed his dagger and with it gestured +toward Kern and the valley below them.</p> + +<p>Kern bristled a little. There was no need for threats. If these people +were still in a state of undevelopment where knives were their customary +weapon, he was far beyond them in some ways at least. It was not a +pleasant introduction to this world, where he felt himself already +native, to have those first directions pointed out with a bare blade.</p> + +<p>The girl, seeing his scowl, laughed gently and came forward to take his +arm. She gestured Gerd away with her other hand, and he smiled grimly +and stood back. The girl fluttered her wings a little and made a +swooping gesture of her hand to indicate flight. She pointed to the +valley. Then she stepped away to the brow of the hill, unfolded her +wings, tested the dying wind with them, and leaned forward with sublime +confidence into the void.</p> + +<p>The updraft caught her beneath the pinions and bore her aloft on a +beautiful sweep, her pale hair blowing like a banner. In midair she +twisted to beckon, and Kern laughed in sheer delight and ran to follow +her, spreading his dark wings so that at the fourth stride, with a leap, +suddenly he was airborne. It was a glorious feeling to fly without shame +or need of concealment. He scarcely heard the beat of wings behind him +as the hunchback took to the air in their wake. The joy of flying in +company was great enough just now to shut out all other thoughts from +Kern’s mind.</p> + +<p>They swept high along the slow-running river of wind over a winding +valley. Kern, watching for the companions with whom he had entered this +wonderful world, saw no motion at all among the trees they soared over. +He caught sight presently of a cluster of roofs far ahead, at the top of +the valley, built around a stream that wound to and fro among the +houses, and was filled with excited speculation as they neared the +village.</p> + +<p>My people, he thought. My own people. What kind of a town will it be, +and what sort of culture? How fast can I learn the language? There’s so +much to find out.</p> + +<p>The thought broke in his mind. For something—he had no name for it—was +stirring very strangely through his body.</p> + +<p>For an instant the whole airy world went blind around him. It was as if +a new pair of lungs had opened up within him and he had drawn a deep, +full breath of such air as no human ever tasted before. It was as if new +eyes had opened in his head and he had looked on a new dimension with +multiple sight. It was like neither of these, nor was it like anything a +man ever experienced before. New, new, inexpressibly new!</p> + +<p>And it was gone.</p> + +<p>In flight Kern staggered a little, his wings forgetting to beat the +sustaining air. The thing had come and gone so quickly, and yet it was +not a wholly unfamiliar thing, after all. Once before something like it +had happened. Something, different, but at the time heart-breakingly +new. It was when he first felt the wings thrust out upon his shoulders. +When he first felt the change within himself that cut him off from +mankind.</p> + +<p>“Am I changing again?” he asked himself fiercely. “Isn’t the mutation +over yet? I won’t change! I belong here now—I won’t let anything spoil +that!”</p> + +<p>The feeling was gone. He could not remember even now what it had been +actually like. He would not change! He would fight change while breath +remained in him. Whatever strange new mutation struggled now for being +in his mysterious flesh he would strangle before he let it come between +him and these people with wings.</p> + +<p>It had gone, now. He would forget it. It should be as if it had never +happened.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p class="ph1">CHAPTER III</p> + +<p class="ph2"><i>Gathering Danger</i></p> + + +<p>Sunlight winked from the diamond-paned windows of the village. They +circled above the rooftops and came in against the wind for a landing on +the high, flat roof of the central building, its open square paved with +tiles painted in bright, crude pictures of flying men and women.</p> + +<p>From above Kern could see the cobbled streets winding narrowly past +overhanging eaves, little stone bridges arching the stream that gushed +rapidly down through the village. Flowers were bright in narrow, ordered +bands around the houses. There were steep streets that rose in steps +around the curves of the hill upon which the town was based.</p> + +<p>The roofs were steeply pitched, arguing a heavy snowfall in winter, but +each of them had a landing area on the highest part of the house, +usually facing a low door let into a gable. And Kern’s last doubt +departed. This was indeed a village of flying people. He had come into +his own world at last.</p> + +<p>His content lasted about five minutes.</p> + +<p>Then they came down upon the brightly tiled landing-roof of what was +probably the townhall, and Kern, already fluttering his wings for a +landing, saw something that made him instinctively tighten the +chest-muscles that controlled his wings so that they stiffened into +broad pinions again. He soared and made a second circle about the +rooftop.</p> + +<p>The girl had reversed herself and was reaching with one foot for a +landing when she saw what had startled him. She laughed and looked up, +beckoning through the cloud of her settling hair.</p> + +<p>Kern made a third circle, fighting the updraft among the houses while he +looked down dubiously at the two dead men sprawled upon the roof. Both +were young and both were winged. The girl walked delicately by them as +if they were not there, settling her wings precisely. She stepped over +the pool of blood, still liquid, that ran from a wound in the nearer +man’s neck, streaked across the width of his quiet pinion, and that +puddled the brilliant tiles with a color of even brighter hue.</p> + +<p>There was a measured beating of the air above Kern, and he looked up to +see the hunchback hovering on silky red wings above him. Sunlight +flashed on a bared knife-blade. Gerd gestured down. And there was +something about his poise in the air, the way he handled his muscular, +twisted body, that warned Kern not to precipitate a struggle. It +occurred to him for the first time that fighting in midair must be an +art requiring skills he had never learned—yet.</p> + +<p>Gingerly he circled again and came down very lightly at the edge of the +roof, holding his wings half-open until he was sure of his footing. The +girl was waiting for him. She smiled, her blue glance flicking the dead +men. Then she slapped her own dagger significantly, glanced at the +bodies and back at Kern, and with a careless beckoning motion turned to +enter the roof door.</p> + +<p>A little dazed, Kern followed. Did she mean she herself had killed them? +What extraordinary sort of culture had he found ready-made for him here? +The first doubts stirring in his mind, he stooped his wings under the +door-frame and groped down a narrow, curving stairway behind the +floating hair of his guide. Behind him he heard Gerd’s feet thump +uncompromisingly from step to step.</p> + +<p>Voices came up the stair-well as they descended. At the bottom of the +flight Kern followed the girl into a big stone-paved room, +low-ceilinged, smoky from the fire that blazed in a huge cavern of +whitewashed brick at one end of the roof.</p> + +<p>The room was full of the living and the dead. Bewildered. Kern glanced +about at the winged bodies which had obviously been dragged carelessly +out of the center of the room and heaped against the walls. Blood lay in +coagulating pools here and there on the flags. The men about the +fireplace seemed to be debating something in loud voices. They looked up +sharply as the girl entered. Then there was a clattering rush and a +clamor of guttural voices as they hurried to greet her.</p> + +<p>Kern made out one word among their sentences that seemed to be her name.</p> + +<p>“Elje—Elje!”</p> + +<p>Their voices echoed under the low ceiling, their wings made a rustle and +soft clatter as they shouldered together around her. If it had not been +for the unconsidered dead at their feet, Kern would have been happy +without reservation, knowing at last beyond any doubt that this was a +world of the winged.</p> + +<p>They were talking about him, obviously. Elje, braiding her disordered +hair, spoke rapidly and glanced from Kern to her companions and back +again. Kern did not wholly like the looks of the men. Without wings, +they would have seemed an undisciplined, violent group. Their faces were +scarred and weather-beaten. All of them wore knives, and they had +clearly been in a hard fight within the last few hours.</p> + +<p>Among the dead on the floor there were men without wings. There were +also, he saw now, a few women, some winged, some not. Two races? Somehow +he surmised that was not true; there was a subtle likeness among them +all, the wingless and the winged, that marked them of the same racial +stock.</p> + +<p>Presently he began to notice that the unwinged were all either elderly +or adolescent. He remembered that his own wings had not begun to grow +until he was past eighteen. Was it only in their prime that this race +could fly? And would he, with advancing years, lose again this glorious +attribute he had only now begun to enjoy?</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>The thought damped that surge of exultation which still flooded his mind +beneath the surface bewilderment. And then he grinned wryly to himself, +thinking:</p> + +<p>“Maybe it won’t happen. Maybe I won’t live that long!”</p> + +<p>For the looks of the grim men around him were not encouraging. If he had +guessed right about a universal language in this world, it was not +strange that his ignorance of it gave them room for suspicion. And in a +village where life was held as cheaply as it was held here, he could +probably expect direct and violent reactions to suspicion.</p> + +<p>He was not far wrong. The men spoke among themselves in brawling voices +a moment or two longer, the girl Elje braiding her hair carelessly and +putting in a word now and then. While Kern stood there, debating with +himself what was best to do, the argument came to a swift climax. Elje +called something in a clear voice and, directly behind him, Kern heard a +guttural monosyllable in answer, and the rustle of wings, and felt +something cold and edged laid against the side of his neck.</p> + +<p>He stood quite still. Then the hunchback, Gerd, sidled around into his +view, holding the sharp knife with a steady hand against Kern’s jugular. +The pale eyes in the dark young face were steady and full of cold +threat.</p> + +<p>Someone moved across the flagstones behind him and Kern felt hands draw +his wrists together, felt the roughness of rope pulled tight around +them. He did not protest. He was too surprised, and too unaccustomed to +violence in his daily life, to know just now what course he should take. +And he was filled still with the thought that these were his own people.</p> + +<p>A something heavy and clinging fell suddenly across his wings. He jumped +and looked back. It was a net, which a man with a scarred face and +suspicious, squinting eyes was rapidly knotting together at the base of +his pinions.</p> + +<p>The hunchback grunted another monosyllable and drove the point of his +knife against Kern’s shoulder, jerking his red head toward a flight of +stairs across the room. The winged men drew back to let the two pass, +silent now and watching with impassive faces. Elje, finishing the last +of the second braid, tossed the pale silken rope of it across her +shoulder and would not meet Kern’s eyes as he went by.</p> + +<p>The stairs twisted unevenly through narrow stone walls. At the third +level the hunchback threw open a heavy, low door and followed Kern into +the room beyond. It was rather a pleasant little place, circular, with +tile-banded walls and a tiled floor. The single window was barred and +looked out over rooftops and distant hills. There was a low bed, a +table, two chairs, nothing more.</p> + +<p>The hunchback pushed Kern roughly toward one of the chairs. Both of +them, Kern noticed, had low backs to clear the wings of those who might +sit in them. He sank down and looked at the red-winged man expectantly. +What happened then was the last thing, perhaps, that he might have +expected to hear.</p> + +<p>Gerd held out his dagger, level across his palm, pointed to it with the +other hand and growled, “<i>Kaj</i>.” He slapped his sheath then, said, +“<i>Kajen</i>,” and dropped the dagger into it. His pale eyes bored into +Kern’s.</p> + +<p>Unexpectedly, Kern heard himself laughing. Partly it was relief, for he +would not have been surprised to feel the edge of that knife called +<i>kaj</i> sink into his throat once the door had closed behind them.</p> + +<p>Instead, apparently this was to be a lesson in language....</p> + +<p>Once, in the night, he awoke briefly. Strange stars were shining through +the bars of his window. He thought there was someone stealthily looking +at him from beyond the bars, and sleepily realized that it would take as +great skill to fly in silence as to walk without noise. But he saw no +one. He slept again and dreamed it was Elje at the window, touching the +bars with light fingertips as she smiled in at him in the starlight, her +face dabbled with blood.</p> + +<p>For two weeks he saw no one but Gerd. The pale eyes in the dark face +became very familiar to him, and gradually the deep voice became +familiar and understandable too. Gerd was a patient and indefatigable +teacher, and the language was a simple one, made for a simple culture. +Indeed, Kern learned it so rapidly that he began to catch Gerd’s +suspicious sidelong glances, and once, from his door, overheard a +conversation on the stair outside when Gerd and Elje met.</p> + +<p>“I think he may be a spy,” the hunchback’s deep guttural said.</p> + +<p>Elje laughed. “A spy who doesn’t speak our language?”</p> + +<p>“He learns it too readily. I wonder, Elje—The Mountain is cunning.”</p> + +<p>“Hush,” was all she answered. But Kern thereafter was careful to pretend +he knew less of the language than he really did.</p> + +<p>The Mountain. He thought of that in the long hours when he was alone. A +mountain, strange of shape, the color of clouds, towering halfway up the +heavens. It was more than inert matter, if these winged people spoke of +it with that hush in their voices.</p> + +<p>For a fortnight he waited and listened and learned. Once more, in the +night, with the nameless stars looking in at the window, he felt that +inexplicable stirring of, alien life deep within him, and was +frightened. It passed quickly, and was gone too fast for him to put any +name to it, or to remember it clearly afterward. Mutation? Continuing +change, in some unguessable form? He would not think of it.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>On the fourteenth night, the Dream came.</p> + +<p>He had not thought very much about Bruce Hallam. Kua and the others. +Subconsciously, he did not want to. This was his world and the other +mutants were actually intruders, false notes in the harmony. Danger he +might find here, even death, but it was a winged world, and his own.</p> + +<p>There were dreams at night. Voices whispering, whose tones he +half-recognized and would not allow himself to remember when he awoke. +Something was searching for his soul.</p> + +<p>Before that final contact on the fourteenth night, he had eavesdropped +enough on other conversations held on the stairs between Gerd and Elje +to understand a little of what went on around him.</p> + +<p>Gerd was urging that they leave the town and return somewhere, and Elje +was adamant.</p> + +<p>“There’s no danger yet.”</p> + +<p>“There is danger whenever we’re away from the eyrie. Not even the +Mountain can guide enemies through the poison winds. Our safety has +always been a quick raid, Elje, and then back to the eyrie. But to stay +here, gorging ourselves—in a <i>town</i>—is madness.”</p> + +<p>“I like the comfort here,” Elje said naively. “It’s been a long time +since I’ve eaten and drunk so well, and slept on such a bed.”</p> + +<p>“You’ll sleep on a harder bed soon, then,” Gerd said dourly. “The towns +will gather. They must know already that we’re here.”</p> + +<p>“Are we afraid of the townsmen?”</p> + +<p>“When the Mountain walks—” the hunchback said, and left the sentence +unfinished.</p> + +<p>Elje’s laughter rang false.</p> + +<p>That night, Kern felt seeking fingers try again the doors of his mind, +and this time his subconscious resistance could not keep them out. He +recognized the mind behind that seeking—the infinitely sad, infinitely +wise mind of the mutant Byrna, with the lovely voice and the pale, +unlovely face.</p> + +<p>For a moment he floundered, lost in the depths of that intelligence so +much more fathomless than his own. For a moment timeless sorrow washed +him like the waters of the sea. Then he found himself again, and was +looking, somehow, through new and different eyes, into a grassy hollow +filled with starlight. Into Kua’s beautiful honey-colored face and her +great single eye. Into Sam Brewster’s veiled gaze.</p> + +<p>Dimly he groped for Bruce Hallam, who had opened the door for them all. +Bruce was missing. And as for Byrna—it was Byrna’s eyes through which +he saw them. Her mind, gripping his like the clasp of hands, cupping his +like a bowl of still water. Soundlessly through space came a voice. +Kua’s voice.</p> + +<p>“Byrna, have you found him?”</p> + +<p>“I think—yes. Kern! Kern!”</p> + +<p>Without words, he answered them.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Kua. Yes, Byrna. I’m here.”</p> + +<p>There was resentment in Kua’s voice—the voice of her mind, for no words +were spoken in this curious seance. Kern found time to wonder briefly if +Byrna had always possessed this strange ability to bridge distances, or +if it had burgeoned in her here as something struggled in himself for +new being.</p> + +<p>“We’ve been trying a long time, Kern,” Kua said coldly. “You were hard +to reach.”</p> + +<p>“I—I wasn’t sure you’d be here any longer.”</p> + +<p>“You thought we’d have gone on to other worlds. Well, we would have, if +we could. But Bruce was hurt. In the storm.”</p> + +<p>“Badly?”</p> + +<p>She hesitated. “We—can’t be sure. Look.”</p> + +<p>Through Byrna’s eyes Kern saw Bruce Hallam’s motionless figure, lying +silent on a bed of boughs. He looked oddly pale, almost ivory in color. +His breathing was nearly imperceptible. And Byrna’s mind, groping +through the void for his, found only a strange, dim spinning—something +too far away and too abstract for the normal mind to grasp. She touched +it briefly—and it spun out of contact and was gone.</p> + +<p>“A trance?” Kua said. “We don’t know, yet. But we’ve used Byrna’s vision +and learned a little about this world. How much do you know, Kern?”</p> + +<p>Kern told them then, with Byrna’s tongue, too absorbed in the needs of +the moment to realize fully what a strange meeting this was of more than +human minds, over unguessed distances of alien land. He told them what +he knew, what he had guessed from overheard conversations—not much, but +a general picture.</p> + +<p>“The planet’s mostly ocean. A small continent, about the size of +Australia, I think. City-states all over it. Elje’s band are outlaws. +They have a hideout somewhere, and they raid the towns. They seem—well, +scornful of the townspeople, and a little afraid, too. I can’t quite +understand that.”</p> + +<p>“This—Gerd? He spoke of a Mountain?” Kua said.</p> + +<p>“Yes. Something about—when the Mountain walks.”</p> + +<p>“You know the Mountain,” Kua said. “The storm came from there. Those +vortices of light and energy rose out of it.”</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Kern remembered the spindles of blinding brilliance that strode across +the land in the maelstrom of the winds. “We don’t understand much of it +yet,” Kua was saying in a troubled tone. “We know there’s danger +connected with that Mountain. I think there is life there, something we +don’t know about. Something that probably couldn’t have developed on +Earth. The conditions could have been too alien. But here anything is +possible.”</p> + +<p>Kern felt the thought forming in his brain—in Byrna’s brain.</p> + +<p>“Life? Intelligent life? What do you know about it?”</p> + +<p>“Maybe not life as we understand the word. Call it a—force. No, it’s +more tangible than that. I don’t know—” The thought-voice of Kua +faltered. “Dangerous. We may learn more of it, if we live. This much +we’ve seen, though, through Byrna’s vision, and mine. We’ve sensed +forces reaching out from the Mountain, into the minds of men. The minds +of the winged townspeople. Assembling them for war.” She hesitated. +“Kern, do you know they’re on their way now, to your town, where the +outlaws are?”</p> + +<p>He was instantly alert.</p> + +<p>“Now? From where? How soon can they get here?”</p> + +<p>“I’m not sure. They aren’t in my sight yet—over the horizon, that is. +Byrna, tell him.”</p> + +<p>The mind that held Kern’s stirred, and through it he saw as through a +haze rank upon rank of winged beings flying with steady beasts of their +pinions over a dark night-time terrain. Byrna’s thought murmured,</p> + +<p>“You see, I can’t tell how far. It’s new, this clairvoyance since we +came from Earth. I could always see but not so clearly, and I never +could show others what was in my mind. So I only know these men are +flying against your village.”</p> + +<p>“And the force of men—the Mountain, I think, has armed them somehow,” +Kua put in. “Byrna has seen the weapons they carry. You’d better warn +your friends—your jailers or whatever they are. Otherwise you may be +caught in the middle of a fight.”</p> + +<p>“I will.” Kern’s mind was full now of something new. “You say you’ve +developed this clairvoyance since the time when you came here, Byrna. +Has it happened to the others, too?”</p> + +<p>“To me, maybe, a little,” Kua said slowly. “A sharpening of focus, not +much more than that. To Sam—” Her thought form glanced sidewise to Sam +Brewster, sitting silent, with the hood of his secondary lids drawn over +his terrible eyes, “—I think nothing’s happened. He can’t join our talk +now, you see. Byrna’s mind can’t reach into his at all. We’ll have to +tell him all that’s been said, later. And Bruce.” She shrugged. “Perhaps +the winged people will tell you how we can help him. The edge of one of +the vortices caught him, and he’s been like this ever since. We’d hoped +to go on, you know, Kern, to find our own worlds as you—perhaps—have +found yours. But without Bruce, we’re helpless.”</p> + +<p>Kern was aware of a tightening and strengthening of his own mind as a +problem at last came before him that must be met. Until now he had been +almost in a trance of wonder and delight and dismay at the new things of +this new, winged world. But the time for lassitude was over. He gathered +his thoughts for speech, but Kua’s voice cut his beginning phrases +short.</p> + +<p>“Kern, there’s danger in the Mountain. The—thing—whatever it is, knows +we’re here. It lives in the Mountain, or perhaps it <i>is</i> the Mountain. +But Byrna has sensed hatred from it. Malevolence.”</p> + +<p>There was a sudden harshness to her thought.</p> + +<p>“Kern, you’re a soft fool!” Kua said. “Did you think you could reach +Paradise without earning it? Whether you help us or not, you’ve got to +face danger before you’ll find your place in this world, or any other. I +don’t think you can manage without us. And we need your help, too. +Together, we may still lose the battle. Separately, there’s no hope for +any of us. We <i>know</i>! The Mountain may be a mutation as far beyond us as +we are beyond the animals. But we’ve got to fight.”</p> + +<p>Her voice blurred suddenly, faded to a thin drone. The starlit hill and +the faces before him swirled and melted in Kern’s sleeping sight. He +struggled for a moment against intangible danger—something formless and +full of strong malevolence. He saw—what was it? A vast, coiling +Something like a ribbon of fire, moving lazily in darkness and aware of +him—terribly aware.</p> + +<p>Far off in the void he felt the quiver of fright in a mind he +knew—Byrna’s mind. But he lost the contact instantly, and then someone +was shaking him by the shoulder and saying something in insistent, +guttural tones.</p> + +<p>He opened his eyes.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p class="ph1">CHAPTER IV</p> + +<p class="ph2"><i>Evil Mountain</i></p> + + +<p>In his vision, the coiling flame had left so brilliant an image upon his +eyelids that for an instant he could see nothing but the blue-green scar +of after-sight swimming upon his vision. Then that faded and he was +staring up into Gerd’s darkly handsome young face.</p> + +<p>Kern struggled to sit up, beating his wings a little to help him rise. +The gust stirred Kern’s red hair and sent motes dancing in the beam of +sunlight falling across the bed. Kern in the aftermath of amazement and +terror forgot to dissemble his knowledge of the winged men’s tongue. The +simple syllables raced off his lips.</p> + +<p>“Gerd, Gerd, you’ve got to listen to me! I’ve been finding out things I +didn’t suspect until now. Let me up. The townspeople are coming!”</p> + +<p>Gerd put a hard palm against his chest.</p> + +<p>“Not so fast. You seem to have learned our language in your sleep. No, +stay there.” His voice rose. “Elje!”</p> + +<p>She was a moment or two in coming, and Gerd stood back with his hand on +his dagger and his pale, suspicious eyes unswerving as he watched Kern. +When Elje came, bright-faced in the morning sun, her ashen braids wound +in a coronet that glistened against the high arch of her wings, he spoke +without taking his eyes from Kern.</p> + +<p>“Our guest awoke this morning with a strangely fluent knowledge of +speech. I told you before of the danger from spies, Elje.”</p> + +<p>“All right, I do know more of your language than I pretended,” Kern +admitted. “I just learned it faster than you believed, that’s all. That +doesn’t matter now. Do you know the townspeople are coming to attack?”</p> + +<p>Gerd bent forward swiftly, half-open wings hovering above him in the +sunlight.</p> + +<p>“How do you know that? You <i>are</i> a spy!”</p> + +<p>“Let him talk, Gerd,” Elje said. “Let him talk.”</p> + +<p>Kern talked....</p> + +<p>In the end, he could see that they did not yet fully trust him. It was +not surprising, for the tale would have bewildered anyone. But the +prospect of an advancing army was enough to divide their thoughts.</p> + +<p>“If I were a spy, would I warn you they were coming?” Kern demanded, +seeing their dubious glances fixed on him at the end of his story.</p> + +<p>“It isn’t the army you’d be spying for,” Gerd said reluctantly.</p> + +<p>“Your other world—Earth,” Elje murmured, her eyes searching Kern’s. “If +that were true, it could explain some things. But we know of no other +worlds.”</p> + +<p>Briefly Kern thought that it might be easier for one of Elje’s culture +to believe in the existence of other worlds than for a denizen of some +more sophisticated civilization. The people of this winged race had not +yet closed their minds to all they could not see. It was not a race so +sure of its own omnipotence that it denied all unfamiliar things +existence.</p> + +<p>“How could I hurt you now?” Kern said. “Why should I warn you, if I were +on their side?”</p> + +<p>“It’s the Mountain,” Elje said surprisingly. “Why do you suppose we kept +you here in this bare room, without furnishings, without anything you +could build into a weapon? Or do you know?”</p> + +<p>Bewildered, he shook his head.</p> + +<p>“We were not sure if you were a slave to the Mountain. If you were, a +coil of wire, a bit of iron—anything—would have been dangerous to us +in your hands.” Her eyes were questioning.</p> + +<p>Again Kern shook his head. Gerd began to speak, his voice faintly +derisive.</p> + +<p>“A long story and an evil one. Perhaps you know it. At any rate, we’re +the only free people in this world. Oh, there may be a few others, but +not many, and they don’t live long. The Mountain is jealous of its +slaves. Aside from our group, all the rest of mankind belongs to the +Mountain. All!”</p> + +<p>“This Mountain?” Kern said. “What is it?”</p> + +<p>Gerd shrugged his red wings.</p> + +<p>“Who knows? Demon—god. If we ever had a history, no one knows it now. +No legend goes back beyond the coming of the Mountain. We only know that +it has always been there, and from it, whispers float out to men in +their sleep, and they become slaves to the whisper. Something happens in +their minds. For the most part they live as they choose, in their +cities. But sometimes that voice comes again, and then they’re mindless, +doing as the Mountain bids them.”</p> + +<p>“We don’t know what the Mountain is,” Elje said. “But we know that it’s +intelligent. It can guide men’s hands to make weapons, when there’s a +need for weapons. And it can send out storms, such as the one in which +we found you. Not for a long, long while has there been a storm out of +the Mountain. If you’re not a spy, how do you explain the fact that your +coming and the storm happened in the same hour?”</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>He shrugged. About that, he also was puzzled.</p> + +<p>“I wish I knew. But I’ll find out, if any human can. Do you mean the +army that’s coming against you is sent by the Mountain? Why?”</p> + +<p>“As long as we remain free, the Mountain will try to enslave us,” Elje +said. “And we’ll fight the townsmen for the things we need, since we +don’t dare fight the Mountain. We’ve stayed too long in this +village—yes, Gerd, I know! We’ll return to the eyrie now. If an army of +the townsfolk is coming, they’ll have weapons the Mountain made them +build, and the weapons will be dangerous, whatever they may be this +time.”</p> + +<p>“The prisoner may know all this already,” Gerd said dourly. “That +doesn’t matter. But it will matter if we take him to the eyrie. He could +lead our enemies there, Elje.”</p> + +<p>“Through the poison winds?” But Elje drew in her lower lip thoughtfully. +“He tells a mad story, Gerd. I know that. Could it be true?”</p> + +<p>“Well, what then?”</p> + +<p>“These companions he spoke of. They sound like gods. And they talked of +fighting against the Mountain.”</p> + +<p>“Fight against the stars,” Gerd said and laughed. “But not the Mountain. +Not even gods could win such a war.”</p> + +<p>“They aren’t gods,” Kern said. “But they have powers none of us know. I +think our coming marks a turning place in the history of your race, +Elje—Gerd. You can kill us or abandon us and go on as you always have, +or you can believe me and help us, and fight this time with a chance of +winning. Will you do it?”</p> + +<p>Elje was silent for a moment. Then she laughed and stood up suddenly +with a flutter of her wings.</p> + +<p>“I’ll go along with you and talk to your friends,” she said. “If they’re +as you say—yes, Kern, I’ll believe you. For the Mountain never has +changed human flesh. It can touch our minds, but not our bodies. I think +in the beginning were men whose brains had some weakness that let the +whisper come in, and those men were armed by the Mountain and killed +their fellows, until only we outlaws remained.</p> + +<p>“Our minds over the generations have been bred to resist invasion as the +townspeople were bred to welcome it. I think—I know—if the Mountain +could reach into our bodies and make that tiny change that would open +our mind to it, then it would win. But it can’t. It can’t alter our +bodies except by killing us. If I see with my own eyes these companions +of Kern’s, I’ll know there is a power greater than the Mountain. And +we’ll fight together, Kern!”</p> + +<p>A little later, floating high above the nest of hills which cradled the +village, Kern rocked on spread wings and pressed his eyes tightly shut, +thinking with all the strength of his mind:</p> + +<p>“Byrna, Byrna! Answer me, Byrna! Help me find you. Byrna, do you hear?”</p> + +<p>Silence, except for the small noises drifting up from far below, distant +shouts as Elje’s winged band collected in haste the loot they would take +with them to their eyrie. Kern’s vision swam with the flecked clouds of +sunlight on closed lids. Deliberately he blanked his mind to receive an +answer. None came.</p> + +<p>“Byrna! There may not be time to waste. Byrna, Kua, answer me!”</p> + +<p>In his eagerness and impatience he remembered again what he had glimpsed +dimly through Byrna’s memory, the ranks of armed fliers moving through +the night on steadily beating wings toward the village. Perhaps from so +far away they would not arrive for many hours—perhaps so near that the +cloud on the horizon now was not mist, but armed men....</p> + +<p>“Byrna! Do you hear me?”</p> + +<p>“<i>Kern!</i>” The answer he sought came with sharp impact, like a blow in +the face. As if she were almost at his side and speaking with dreadful +violence. He caught terror in the contact of minds, cold, controlled +terror that chilled him so the sunny air turned suddenly icy around him. +He knew instantly that she had heard him before, had been hedging for +just the right contact so that there need be no wasted moments of +groping and finding focus upon one another. He caught the hard impact +and the terror and the urgency in the moment their minds met. Then her +thoughts tumbled into his mind:</p> + +<p>“Kern! Hurry! No time to waste. Do you see the grove of blooming trees +left on the horizon? Come! Make new contact there.”</p> + +<p>She blanked as suddenly as she had entered his mind. And because +thoughts are so infinitely more rapid than words she had conveyed those +four ideas—identification, haste, locality and a promise of future +contact—in almost no lapse of time at all. But in that brief instant +while their minds did meet, something happened.</p> + +<p>Kern rocked on shaken wings as if a blow had jolted him. He snatched his +mind back from the brief touch with Byrna’s quickly, quickly, scorched +with the incandescent hatred that had blazed in the void between them. +For the coiled ribbon of fire which had swum so strangely through +nothingness when he woke from his clairvoyant dream was awake and alive +now, and terribly avid.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>It had been waiting, he knew in the instant while his mind leaped back +in recoil from that burning contact. It had found them as he waked +slowly from the long, leisured conversation in the seance.</p> + +<p>Since that moment it had lain, coiled, in waiting. <i>It?</i></p> + +<p>Folding his wings, he dropped forward in a long, breathtaking dive, the +air screaming past his ears. From a tiled rooftop far below, he saw two +figures rise, one on pale wings, one on glossy red. He spread his own +pinions then, exulting in the strain on his chest-muscles when the broad +surfaces checked his dive, bore him up in a steep arc that made the air +feel warm and solid as he carved a long curve through it.</p> + +<p>“That way,” he told Elje, pointing, when she rose within hearing. “We’ll +have to hurry. There’s something wrong. I think perhaps the Mountain, or +Something in the Mountain, knows we’re here.”</p> + +<p>Elje’s clear bright color blanched in the sunlight. Behind her, Gerd’s +eyes flashed sideward in the dark face, suspicious, mistrusting still.</p> + +<p>“Why do you say that?”</p> + +<p>Kern told them as they flew, the grove of blossoming trees on the +horizon seeming to slip rapidly down the edge of the skyline and draw +nearer far below. It was not easy to talk and fly. Kern’s breath began +to come fast, and his chest and wings ached with the speed, after so +many days of inactivity. When he finished speaking there was silence.</p> + +<p>“The eyrie lies that way,” Elje said presently, in a controlled voice. +She pointed right with a smooth bare arm. “I’ve sent most of the men on +with our loot. Gerd chose twenty to follow us. You don’t know where or +how far the Mountain’s men are?”</p> + +<p>Kern shook his head. “Maybe I can find out at the next meeting with +Byrna.”</p> + +<p>He glanced behind them and saw the little band of Elje’s bodyguard +flying a few minutes in their rear, big men all of them, with stolid, +hard-eyed faces. Several carried light wicker squares looped up with +straps.</p> + +<p>“Seats for your friends, Kern,” Elje explained. “We need them when we +carry our young people or our old ones, who no longer have the power to +fly.” Her face darkened, as Kern knew their faces always did when the +winged people thought of the days in which they would no longer travel +the lanes of air.</p> + +<p>It occurred to him then that their battles might be ferocious things, +fought by men as fanatic in their own way as those who fought on Earth +for entry into an imagined paradise. For these men fought their own old +age as surely as they fought an enemy. No one who has once spread wings +upon the air-currents willingly faces a life without wings.</p> + +<p>The blooming grove was beneath them now.</p> + +<p>“If you make contact this time with—it—again, Kern, I think <i>it</i> will +know more easily where to direct its men,” Elje said. “There is great +danger. Will you let this meeting with your friends go for awhile? You +may be doing them harm as well as us. The army of the Mountain may be +very near now.”</p> + +<p>Kern hesitated. He had been dreading with every wingbeat the moment when +he must open his mind again to that coiled and scorching malevolence. +For an instant he toyed with the idea of postponing searching for +Byrna’s mind, but he knew it would only mean putting off the inevitable. +Grimly he shook his head.</p> + +<p>“Byrna!” he called out mentally. “Byrna, what next?”</p> + +<p>As before, for long moments there was no answer. Then briefly, like a +gasp, he caught the touch of Byrna’s mind—only briefly and very +incoherently, because between them in the instant of contact flashed the +blinding hatred of the—the interloper. Only when their minds touched, +apparently, could the white-hot malevolence reach them, but it lay +ambushed and ready, and this time it seemed to flare out between them +almost before Byrna’s voice could speak.</p> + +<p>Reeling back, shaken and stunned by the thing between them, Kern caught +only a ragged thought or two from Byrna’s mind.</p> + +<p>“Three hills—hurry—army!”</p> + +<p>That was all that got through. For an instant the void flamed with the +blankness of sheer hatred. Then Kern opened his eyes and caught himself +on reeling wings. Elje and Gerd watched him without speaking as he +controlled his shaken faculties with a great effort. Elje was white with +terror, but on Gerd’s face suspicion was still predominant.</p> + +<p>Three hills in a shadowy row cut the horizon line. Kern gestured toward +them and in silence the little group flew on. If Byrna’s gasp of +“—army—” meant the enemy were nearly upon them, there was nothing to +do except fly as they had been flying, in the hope of reaching the +mutants before disaster overtook them all.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p class="ph1">CHAPTER V</p> + +<p class="ph2"><i>Pursuit</i></p> + + +<p>The three hills were not quite below them, and Kern was watching the +skyline anxiously for signs of the winged army which was moving against +them, when something from below flashed across his eyes. He blinked and +looked down. From a clump of trees the light-beam flashed again, +dazzlingly, from a tiny point of brilliance. Then a small figure stepped +out from the shelter of the branches, waving at him.</p> + +<p>It was Kua. Even from this height he could see the reflected light in +twin points on the sun-glasses she held in one hand. She had signalled +him by the heliograph with the only thing they had for reflecting light.</p> + +<p>Pointing downward, he let one wing tilt high and came about in a long +glide, lying at full length upon the air with his heels higher than his +head. The ground swung, like water in a cup and Kua seemed to rush +upward to meet him as the swift dive cut the space between them.</p> + +<p>The others were with her by the time Kern had put his feet to the grass. +He was conscious, as always, of a little shock of memory renewed when he +met again Kua’s great single gaze from the center of her forehead. +Byrna, hurrying to meet him, lifted a pale, drawn little face.</p> + +<p>“Kern!” she cried in a voice that was pure music. And he thought there +was in her eyes, and in Kua’s, a subtle something that was new to him. +Mutation had gone on, perhaps, with them as with him, a step beyond +Earthly mutation. Their powers were strengthened, so that, in part, they +both were strangers to him.</p> + +<p>Sam Brewster came out smiling and extending his hand, and Kern took it +with the little inward quailing he had always felt before Sam, the +instinctive averting of his gaze from Sam’s veiled eyes. Beyond Sam’s +shoulder he saw Bruce Hallam lying motionless, as if he had not stirred +since they laid him on the pallet of boughs. His face was ivory-hard and +as withdrawn from living as the face of a statue that had never known +life.</p> + +<p>Everything was confused for a few moments. Byrna was crying, “Hurry, +hurry!” and Kua’s distance-piercing glance kept sweeping the horizon as +the winged people swooped to the ground behind Kern and came forward +swiftly, wings half open to speed their hurrying feet.</p> + +<p>Kern heard Elje’s little gasp of incredulity and dismay when Kua’s blue +central eye turned upon the newcomers, but the winged girl was too good +a commander to waste time after that first glance which confirmed what +Kern had told her.</p> + +<p>In a matter of seconds they were in the air.</p> + +<p>Bruce Hallam, still motionless in his mysterious slumber, had been swung +on a wicker carrier between two burly fliers. The other three mutants, +in their seats between winged bearers, scarcely had time for amazement +or uncertainty as they were wafted aloft.</p> + +<p>Kern, flying with the rest over the rolling hilltops with the vast glass +cloud of the Mountain shadowing the horizon, timed his flight to the +pace of the slowest so that he might talk in midair with the wingless +people in the carriers. And close beside him Elje and Gerd hovered, +watching almost jealously every expression on the faces of the speakers.</p> + +<p>“What do they say, Kern?” Elje asked breathlessly, timing her words to +the rhythm of her wings. “Are—are you sure these people are human? I +never saw such—such—creatures. Gerd, after all could they be gods?”</p> + +<p>Gerd laughed shortly, but there was uneasiness in his voice.</p> + +<p>“Let them talk. Is the enemy near yet? Ask them, Kern.”</p> + +<p>“Near, I think,” Byrna said. She was clutching the straps of her swaying +chair with both tiny hands and her incredibly musical voice might have +been crooning a song instead of shaping the syllables of terror which +echoed the look in her eyes. “Kern, I don’t dare—look—for them any +more! You saw what happened! Kern, tell me what it was <i>you</i> saw.”</p> + +<p>“I? Fire, I think. A coiling ribbon of it—and hate. I could almost see +the hate!”</p> + +<p>“The Mountain,” Byrna said, her eyes turning automatically toward the +great cloud hanging ominously in the sky. “What do you know about it, +Kern? Have these people told you?”</p> + +<p>Briefly he gave her the story Elje had recounted.</p> + +<p>“It has never yet been able to change people physically, or there +wouldn’t be any outlaws left,” he finished. “At least, so Elje thinks. +Byrna, I wonder if it could change us? We’re malleable—abnormally +malleable. I—”</p> + +<p>He hesitated. Not even to Byrna did he yet want to speak of the deep, +mysterious stirrings he had felt in his own flesh.</p> + +<p>“You think you and Kua may have felt something like a changing in +yourselves?”</p> + +<p>Byrna nodded, her eyes wide and distressed. “We can’t tell how much, +yet. Maybe the Mountain is the cause of it.”</p> + +<p>Unexpectedly Sam Brewster, swinging between his carriers above Byrna, +leaned forward.</p> + +<p>“The Mountain’s where the answer is, Kern. I don’t think we’ll be safe +until we’ve explored it.”</p> + +<p>“Safe!” Kern said grimly. “If you’d seen what I have, you’d never talk +that way.”</p> + +<p>“It won’t matter,” Kua called from a little way ahead, twisting in her +seat to send a piercing blue gaze back at them. “Look! They’re coming!”</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Kern’s sharp exclamation as he banked swiftly and turned to follow her +pointing finger was explanation enough to Elje and Gerd what was +happening. A shiver of excitement ran through the whole flying group, a +tightening of muscle and mind. For an instant their pace slackened, +simultaneously, without signal, almost as a flight of birds wheels +simultaneously at no perceptible message.</p> + +<p>There was nothing visible on the horizon where Kua pointed.</p> + +<p>“I can see the first of them—a long line,” she said. “They’re carrying +something, but I’m not sure what it is. Round things—nets of +something shining, like thin wire. Light’s flashing from it when the sun +hits them.”</p> + +<p>Rapidly Kern told Elje.</p> + +<p>“New weapons,” she said. “I expected that. I wonder—well, we’ll know +soon enough.” She beat her wings together and soared suddenly above the +group, looking down with speculative eyes.</p> + +<p>“We’re going too slowly. Kern.” She flashed a glance at him. “This other +friend of yours, the injured one. He’s heavy. He slows us. And he takes +two men out of the fight if we’re caught. I think—” She made an +expressive downward gesture.</p> + +<p>“No!” Kern said quickly. “He’s the most powerful of us all, if we can +rouse him.”</p> + +<p>“Well, he must be first to fall, if the need comes,” Elje said. “But +we’ll wait.” She called commands to the group flying before them, and +eight men wheeled in the air and swung back. Kern watched them slip +smoothly, without a break in their wing-beats, into the harness of the +wicker carriers, relieving those who had borne the burden this far.</p> + +<p>“Now, quickly!” Elje said. “The eyrie!”</p> + +<p>They were almost over the jagged hills where the outlaws’ refuge lay, +when the first ranks of the enemy swept over the skyline and saw them. +The fugitives had flown low, taking advantage of every line of hills and +trees for cover, and despite their burden they flew fast, their pace +nearly matching that of the pursuers because of the all-night flight the +enemy had made.</p> + +<p>But they had not yet reached shelter when the sound of a horn, clear and +high, fell through the sunny air, and after it, drowning out the thin, +sweet notes, the roar of angry men sighting their prey.</p> + +<p>Elje was very calm.</p> + +<p>“Gerd,” she said. “You’ll lead the way in?”</p> + +<p>“No!” he growled. “Let one of the captains go. I feel like a fight.”</p> + +<p>“Stay, then,” Elje answered.</p> + +<p>She called a command to a man in the front rank of her little party. +They were flying as fast as wing could carry them toward a gap between +two jagged, dark hills through which Kern could see a wilderness of +tortured rock beyond. It looked volcanic in origin, and waves of +intermittent heat and strange metallic odors drifted to them on the wind +as they approached.</p> + +<p>“There are poisonous currents in these hills,” Elje told Kern as they +swept forward. “Many of us died before we learned the way through them. +Now we have a shelter where no one can follow us who hasn’t a guide.”</p> + +<p>Abruptly she ceased to speak. Kern turned a startled glance and saw her +reel in midair, throwing back her head so that the clear line of her +throat was white and taut against the blue sky. Then, without a word, +suddenly she crumpled in full flight. An instant longer her wings +sustained her and she hung limp from the spread pinions. Then they too +folded back and she dropped like a stone.</p> + +<p>Time stopped for Kern. Everything stood still, the hills with their +floating vapors, the flying troupe, the breeze halted among the trees +below. He could see the first ranks of the oncoming enemy halted too and +hanging motionless in space, their shouts nothing but a buzz in his +ears.</p> + +<p>He saw too, very clearly, the great ovals of the weapons they carried, +and the light that whirled in intricate, thin patterns like wires of +brilliance within the ovals. He saw the cone of light reach out from the +nearest oval and touch another of the fugitive fliers.</p> + +<p>It had happened in an instant, and it was over. Kern dived for Elje’s +falling body almost before she had ceased to speak, swung under her, +caught her across his arms in a welter of slack wings and loosened hair.</p> + +<p>Gerd’s harsh voice was shouting orders above him. By the time Kern had +labored up to their level with his burden he saw the newly-appointed +guide of the winged men vanishing into the cleft between the hills, +leading two by two the harnessed pairs who carried the mutants.</p> + +<p>The roar of savage voices behind them filled the shaken air, and the +roar of countless wings beating in ranks as the enemy swooped upon them. +They were very near now—so near Kern could see the distorted, shouting +faces and the flash of knives in the hands of the foremost.</p> + +<p>It was a strange and eerie thing to realize that no human hatred burned +behind the angry faces, but the fiery, venomed malignancy which was the +Mountain. Or did this oncoming rabble know why it fought? Did they think +this fury their own emotion, not a monstrously inspired rage that turned +them to automatons?</p> + +<p>A cone of light swung past Kern, numbing his wing-tip, and touched a +fast-flying man in front of him between the wings. The man jolted +convulsively, arched backward and then crumpled to hang for an instant +motionless on the momentum of his own flight. The wings folded as Elje’s +had done, and the man dropped downward out of sight.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Gerd was gesturing Kern frantically on. The hunchback hovered on red +pinions recklessly in full view of the enemy, knives flashing in each +hand, ready to engage whoever came within reach of his blades. He was +shouting hoarse orders scarcely audible above the rushing thunder of the +enemies’ wings and their voices bellowing for blood.</p> + +<p>The last of the little band was pouring through the hill-cleft now, Kern +almost the last of all with his limp burden hanging across his arms. The +air was full of twisting vapors and he could not see very clearly as he +swept closer to the hills. It was, curiously, a nightmare sensation, +half-blindness from the poison vapors and half-deafness from the roar of +wings and voices. He could only follow the back of the man ahead, dimly +seen through the mists. Elje hung motionless in his arms, her trailing +wings fluttering a little to the measured beat of his own.</p> + +<p>The last thing he saw as he glanced back was Gerd poised above the cleft +to follow him in, ready to fight a rear-guard action if need be. And +then, all in one brief glance between drifts of vapor, Kern’s heart +contracted as he saw two more winged shapes beating desperately toward +him through the dimness, two men flying tandem with a harnessed burden +between them.</p> + +<p>It was Bruce Hallam’s bearers. And Elje had been right. Bruce’s weight +was too great for the flying men to carry fast enough. Evidently they +had been left too far behind to follow the other bearers in and had only +now made up the distance which would save them.</p> + +<p>Or would it save them?</p> + +<p>In spite of himself, Kern tilted his wings and hesitated in the air, +twisting his head to watch. He saw Gerd gesturing savagely to hurry them +in—heard the hunchback’s deep howl.</p> + +<p>“Drop him!” Gerd howled. “Drop him and come on!”</p> + +<p>But before they could obey, a cone of white fire swept silently through +the coiling fog and enveloped bearers and burden alike in a bath of +radiance.</p> + +<p>There was no sound, except for the all-encompassing uproar of the +pursuit. In silence the doomed fliers stiffened and glided an instant +still carrying their fatal weight between them—and then dropped.</p> + +<p>The three of them vanished together into the engulfing mists.</p> + +<p>Kern flew on with Elje.</p> + +<p>He labored on leaden wings through the fog. Whiffs of burning vapor +stung in his nostrils and set his pumping lungs on fire. Elje was an +almost unbearable weight in his arms.</p> + +<p>Coughing, choking, ready to think every wing-beat his last, he stumbled +through the air in the wake of the man before him, his only guide +through this aerial labyrinth of poison. Hot updrafts caught him and +tossed him aloft, cross-currents fetid with strangling vapors sent him +into perilous side-slips toward the jagged black peaks dangerously near. +At this speed he knew he could not survive the slightest contact with +those knife-edged rocks.</p> + +<p>And Bruce’s loss was a heavier burden to bear than even Elje’s dead +weight. For only Bruce could have opened the doors for the rest to +escape into worlds of their own. And upon Bruce’s uncanny skill he had +pinned his highest hopes of freeing this world from its enemy.</p> + +<p>Strangling, choking, muscles aching from the strain of long flight, he +reeled on in the wake of the flying outlaws.</p> + +<p>The end of the ordeal came without warning. One moment he was flying +blindly through the updrafts and the smoke, the next he found himself +floating in clear still air over what seemed a great lip of rock. Winged +men below gestured him down and he dropped slowly on aching wings and +let his feet touch the rock gingerly.</p> + +<p>Elje coughed in his arms as he shifted weight from wings to feet. +Electrified, he looked down, forgetting everything else in this new +surprise. He had been certain she was dead or dying. She opened her +eyes, looked at him blindly, and let the lashes flutter down again. But +at least she was still alive.</p> + +<p>The men of her band closed around them then and one of them took Elje +from his arms. Kern looked around curiously as he followed Elje’s bearer +across the rock.</p> + +<p>A cavern lifted its high arched entrance before them, black rock without +and within, and the lip of rock thrust out before it, black too. Above +the platform, which must have been two hundred feet across, the air was +still and no poisonous vapors swirled, but they still rose all around +the edges of the rock and leaned together high above like a tent roof +that blotted out the sky except for occasional rifts far overhead. It +was like a painter’s concept of Hades, even to the winged men with the +hard, violent faces swarming out to meet the newcomers.</p> + +<p>The mutants were among them. Kern told them shortly of Bruce’s loss. He +did not want to dwell on it, for it seemed a death-blow to the hopes of +the others and perhaps to his own, too, if this world was ever to be +peopled by any but automatons.</p> + +<p>None of the mutants spoke after he had told them. The loss was a +stunning one and Byrna’s sad, small face grew sadder and very pale, +while Kua’s great blue eye filled with tears as she turned away. Sam +Brewster muttered something under his breath and for an instant Kern saw +the veiling secondary lids twitch across his eyes, as they always +twitched when Sam was angry, in involuntary preparation to draw back.</p> + +<p>“Sam!” Kern said sharply. Sam grimaced and turned away too, closing the +secondary lids again.</p> + +<p>Inside the cavern, on a straw mattress under a stretched crimson tent, +Elje was lying. A fire burned in a crude hood of rocks, its heat cupped +in the red tent and reflected back again upon the bed. Someone was +holding a bowl of steaming liquid to her lips as Kern came up.</p> + +<p>Kern watched her drain it slowly. When she lay back upon the cushions +her eyes remained open and she looked around the circle of watching men +with understanding dawning in her face. Color came back into it after +awhile, and then she coughed again and sat up.</p> + +<p>“All right,” she said. “I’m better. What happened?”</p> + +<p>Kern told her.</p> + +<p>“Gerd?” she asked when he had finished. The men looked at one another +inquiringly. A growl of dissent went through the cavern. No one had seen +him. Someone rose on heavy wings and flapped out under the dome to +search the platform outside. Gerd was not to be found. Elje’s face +darkened.</p> + +<p>“We could afford to lose twenty men better than Gerd,” she said. “You +say he was last behind you, Kern? Didn’t you hear any fighting as you +came in?”</p> + +<p>Kern shook his head. “I couldn’t tell. I thought he was following me. +The last I saw was Bruce and his carriers going down.”</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Elje bit her lip. “I’m sorry. We’ll miss him. He was one of the bravest +and most loyal of us all. He’s been with us only a year, but I’d come to +depend more on his judgment than—” She broke off. “Well, it can’t be +helped. I suppose the light-cones got him. I wonder how they work.” She +flexed her wings and tried her muscles out experimentally. “The rays +don’t seem to leave any after-effects. I suppose the fatalities are +meant to come from the fall. Well, at least we’re lucky to have got away +without any worse losses.”</p> + +<p>She got to her feet and shook her head tentatively, shook her wings out +and made two or three uncertain beats that nearly lifted her off the +floor.</p> + +<p>“I’m all right now.” She spread her hands to the blaze for it was damply +chill in the cavern. “The Mountain’s angry,” she said. “It isn’t only +our raid on the village that brought this army out against us. There was +that storm, too. Kern, I think the Mountain knows you’re here and is +trying to—to finish you. Have you any idea why?”</p> + +<p>Kern had, vague theories too inchoate to put into words. He shook his +head instead. Elje laughed shortly.</p> + +<p>“Gerd wouldn’t trust you. If he were here, he’d say it was your fault +the enemy had gathered against us. He’d say to put you out and let you +shift for yourselves, all of you. Is there any reason why I shouldn’t?” +Her voice was suddenly hard.</p> + +<p>Disconcerted, Kern stared at her. “If you don’t know any—” he began, +but she broke in quickly.</p> + +<p>“You saved my life,” she conceded, “but we’re not a sentimental people. +We can’t afford to be. If your presence here is a menace to the safety +of us all, I can’t indulge my own gratitude by putting my men in danger. +We must each contribute to the strength of the group, or perish.” She +shrugged. “You’re one extra fighting man, but what about your friends? +Have they abilities to counterbalance their being earth-bound?”</p> + +<p>“I think they have. This much is sure, Elje. Unless we can prevail +against the Mountain somehow, I believe we mutants at least are doomed. +Our coming has upset the balance in your world and the Mountain knows it +and intends to be rid of us. Well, we’ve lost our best man, Bruce +Hallam. With his help we might have moved openly against the Mountain. +Without him, we are greatly handicapped.” Kern grimaced wryly. +“Remember, Byrna and I have been in—call it in tune—with whatever it +is that constitutes the Mountain. We know what we’re facing. But I don’t +see any choice. It’s kill or be killed.”</p> + +<p>Behind him Kua’s gentle voice spoke. “Kern,” she said. He turned. Elje +turned too, and from the corner of his eye, he saw her recoil +involuntarily from the strangeness of Kua’s face.</p> + +<p>Kua’s wide blue eye, with depth upon depth shining in it, was staring at +the rock wall above the fireplace. Her face had a look of concentration +and withdrawal upon it, as if in all but body she were miles away.</p> + +<p>“Kern!” she said again. “There are men coming. Many men. I think they +are the same ones who were following us outside.” She hesitated, +glancing quickly at Elje’s face, her eye refocusing swiftly and then +going back to the solid wall.</p> + +<p>“Kua, you can see them?” Kern demanded. “Do you mean it? Do you know +you’re not looking through empty spaces now, Kua? You’re looking through +rock!”</p> + +<p>The shock of realization on Kua’s face as she turned to him was answer +enough. “I am!” she gasped. “It never—that hasn’t happened before. +Kern, it’s true that we’re changing. More than we know, until something +like this happens! But I can see them. I can see through the side of the +mountain.”</p> + +<p>Again she turned to stare with her fathomless gaze into distances no +human eye ever pierced before, unaided.</p> + +<p>“They’re coming,” she said. “Through the mists, the way we came.”</p> + +<p>Swiftly Kern told Elje what she had said. Elje leaned forward abruptly.</p> + +<p>“Through the labyrinth?” she cried. “But they can’t! No one can come +that way without a guide. They won’t get far before they’re overcome by +the gasses.”</p> + +<p>“They have a guide,” Kua said in a strangely gentle voice, turning her +gaze upon Elje. “Your friend. Gerd.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p class="ph1">CHAPTER VI</p> + +<p class="ph2"><i>Betrayal</i></p> + + +<p>Horrified silence filled the cave for a moment when Kern ceased his +translation. Then bedlam broke out. The encircling men who had listened +so far in silence burst into violent speech, some deriding Kua’s claim, +some cursing Gerd. Elje silenced them with a sharp command.</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe you,” she said flatly. “Gerd wouldn’t betray us.”</p> + +<p>Kua shrugged. “You’d better prepare to meet them,” was all she said.</p> + +<p>For a moment Elje’s composure broke. “But I don’t—it can’t be Gerd! He +wouldn’t! Kern, how <i>can</i> we meet them? They’re a hundred to our one! +This was our last refuge. If they’re coming here, all is lost!”</p> + +<p>“They don’t know we’re expecting them,” Kern said. “That’s our only +advantage. Make the most of it. Is there any room for ambushes along the +way?”</p> + +<p>Elje shook her head. “It’s almost a single-file path everywhere. And +Gerd knows it better than even I do.” Her wings drooped. Listlessly she +stared into the fire. “This is the end of all resistance to the +Mountain,” she said. “This is the day <i>it</i> wins the fight. None of us +can come out alive. Gerd! I can’t believe it!”</p> + +<p>“The Mountain—you think?” Kern asked her.</p> + +<p>“It must be that. He passed all our tests—and we have rigid ones—but +somehow he must have been able to hide the truth from us. He’s one of +the Mountain’s slaves and, when it commanded, he had to obey.”</p> + +<p>“That proves it!” Kern said suddenly. “Why should the Mountain move +against you today of all days, unless it has something to fear? Gerd’s +been with you a year, you say. The Mountain could have struck any hour +of all that time. But it waited—for an emergency. And this is the +emergency. If it’s afraid of us, then maybe we’re stronger than we know. +Maybe—”</p> + +<p>From the mists outside the high, hollow notes of a horn broke into his +speech. Kern spun around. Voices rose in angry babble from the platform. +There was a beating of wings that made a noise almost deafening under +the dome of the cavern, and the fire flared wildly, the red canvas of +Elje’s tent flapped in the blast as the outlaws rushed to the defense of +their last refuge. Elje, shouting commands, rose with them.</p> + +<p>Kua and Byrna turned white faces to Kern. Sam Brewster, behind them, +looked a question. Rapidly Kern told them what had been said.</p> + +<p>“You’d better wait here,” he finished. “I don’t know what’s coming, but +you’ll be safer inside.”</p> + +<p>Sam smiled a grim and dreadful smile. “I can help,” he reminded Kern. +“I’ll come outside.”</p> + +<p>Together they walked to the door of the cave. There was tumult beyond, +but an orderly tumult. Ranks of the winged outlaws were hurrying aloft +to hang overhead in wait. Elje marshaled the rest with a hopeless sort +of efficiency into reserves. Before she had finished, the horn sounded +again, on a note of triumph, and the first of the enemy burst through +the fog upon them.</p> + +<p>“You see,” Elje said to Kern, the hopelessness clear in her voice. “They +wanted us out in the open where they could finish us quickest. They even +gave warning so we’d be waiting for them. That’s how sure they are of +us.”</p> + +<p>From the front of the platform a wave of the outlaw fighters, knives +flashing in their hands, rose to meet the newcomers. And from above a +second wave dived on half-closed wings. For a few moments there was a +bloody melee at the mouth of the aerial entry where the enemy poured +through.</p> + +<p>“We can hold them five minutes,” Elje said. “After that, we’re through.”</p> + +<p>Now for the first time Kern saw how the winged men fought. The hawk-dive +was the thing he thought of as he watched the fighters swoop on their +prey, saw the flash of knives held at an expert angle for the slash that +would cripple wing-muscles and send the victim hurtling helplessly to +the ground. One sweeping cut across the chest-muscles was enough to put +a man out of the fight.</p> + +<p>But if the intended prey saw his adversary coming, then it was a matter +of soaring and swooping for position. And Kern saw many times a winged +man, outmaneuvered by his enemy, rise on desperate wings and hurl +himself headlong into a death-like embrace, wings folded, so that the +two fell like a single plummet, each striving frantically as they +dropped twisting through the air for a blow that would cripple his +adversary and break the wing-locked grip before the ground came too +near.</p> + +<p>Now the gush of the enemy through the fog had become too great to stem +as they poured by the score out of their narrow entry. The fight which +had for a few minutes hovered at the mouth of the gap swept backward and +upward until the great tent of vapor over the platform was filled with +struggling men, and the air was blackened with the shadows of their +wings.</p> + +<p>“They aren’t using those light-cones,” Kern said. “I’ve been waiting to +dodge but none have come through yet. Why?”</p> + +<p>“I think because the Mountain sends out the light-beam that focuses +through the wires,” Elje told him. “That’s the way their weapons usually +work. And the Mountain can’t penetrate our mists and our rocks here. +They’ve got to fight hand-to hand—but they can do it. There are too +many of them. I—Kern, look! Is that Gerd?”</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>A flash of red wings and red hair showed through the melee as someone +went by on whistling wings, too fast to see clearly. Kern caught one +glimpse of a dark face and pale, fixed eyes—and thought there was grief +in the eyes and the distorted face in that one glancing look he caught +of it.</p> + +<p>Elje, beside him, shouted something across the platform and from its lip +another wave of men rose in the hopeless defense of their stronghold.</p> + +<p>“We’ll go up with the last,” Elje said quietly, glancing over her +shoulder at the men who remained. “One more wave and then—the last. +This way we’ll kill the greatest number before it’s over. Have you a +knife, Kern?”</p> + +<p>As she spoke a man with a dripping knife soared past them over the edge +of the platform, blood falling from a dozen wounds, face set in blind, +fanatic violence. Squarely before them they saw him falter in midair, +his gaze going past them to something in the shadow of the cave. +Abruptly then he stiffened, his chin jerked up and his wings folded back +as if they had been suddenly broken. He fell in a long slide, +momentum-borne and inert, and crashed at Elje’s very feet.</p> + +<p>She had her knife at his throat in a swift, lithe crouch before she saw +that no knife was necessary. Bewildered, she looked up at Kern.</p> + +<p>He stooped and took the wet blade from the man’s hand, wiped it on his +leather jerkin.</p> + +<p>“Don’t look back, Elje,” he warned her harshly. “Sam? Sam!”</p> + +<p>“It’s all right, Kern.” Sam Brewster’s voice had a dreadful sort of +amusement in it. “I’m not—looking.”</p> + +<p>Elje stared, speechless, into Kern’s face as the other mutant sauntered +up to join them in the shelter of a heap of rock at the edge of the +platform. Sam’s smile was thin and cold. The secondary lids veiled his +eyes, but a gleam in their depths glittered even through the film and +Kern looked hastily away.</p> + +<p>“What—what is it?” Elje faltered. “What killed this man?”</p> + +<p>“I did.” Sam was grinning without mirth. “Like this.”</p> + +<p>He turned away, face lifted, scanning the turmoil overhead where men +dived and soared on blood-dappled wings, clasped one another in deathly +embraces and hurtled earthward with knives flashing between them. At the +edge of the platform, only a dozen feet overhead, such a pair writhed in +gasping, murderous combat. As they watched, one man freed his knife-hand +and in the same motion drove the blade hilt-deep into the other’s chest!</p> + +<p>The killer’s wings spread and stiffened in anticipation of what was to +come, as his victim clutched convulsively at his shoulders in a last +effort to save himself. For an instant one man’s wings supported them +both. Then the dying man’s body went limp. Wings flaccid, he fell away +from the blade and went hurtling downward through the mists, twisting +and turning over while blood pumped from his chest.</p> + +<p>The killer paused for a moment in midair, breathing in deep gasps and +looking for another adversary. His glancing eyes crossed Sam Brewster’s. +For an instant he hung there, panting for breath, gaze locked with +Sam’s.</p> + +<p>The knife dropped from his loosened fingers. Eyes still wide, he heeled +over in the air stiffly. His wings broke backward and he fell after the +man he had just killed. They vanished almost together into the fog +below.</p> + +<p>Sam laughed grimly. When he turned the secondary lids were closed again +over his eyes.</p> + +<p>“I can kill anyone who catches my eyes, when they’re open,” he said.</p> + +<p>Elje did not understand the words, but his gesture was enough. She +caught her breath softly and looked away in sheer instinctive revulsion +from that deathly gaze.</p> + +<p>“Elje, we’ve got to do something,” Kern said. “Now, while we can. We’ve +got Sam. Kua and Byrna have their own powers, too. There’s no use +waiting here to be killed. If only we could get away.”</p> + +<p>“Where?” Elje asked somberly. “The Mountain could find us wherever we +went.”</p> + +<p>“We could go to the Mountain.” Kern’s voice was more confident than he +felt. “If it’s so anxious to see us dead, then it must be afraid of us. +Anyhow, that’s our only hope. Is there any way out except the way we +came here?”</p> + +<p>Elje gestured aloft. “Only up. And you can see how thick the vapors +are.”</p> + +<p>Kern glanced around the platform. There were perhaps fifty men remaining +on their feet, waiting to be thrown into the last wave of the defense. +He looked toward the cave-mouth and beckoned. Kua and Byrna hurried +across the platform toward him, their faces pale and anxious.</p> + +<p>“Kua,” he said. “A little while ago you found you could look through +walls. Look up. Do you think you could tell which of those vapors up +there are poisonous and which aren’t?”</p> + +<p>Kua’s face lifted: her single eye narrowed. For a long moment no one +spoke.</p> + +<p>“No, I’m not sure,” she said. “I can see a long way through to the clear +air. I can see that some of the fog flows in definite patterns, much +thicker than the rest. But what’s poison and what isn’t—no one could +tell that by looking, Kern.”</p> + +<p>“Is there a path through the places where the fog’s thin?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“We’ll have to take a chance on it, then. Maybe if it’s thin enough to +breathe, we can get through.”</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Rapidly he told Elje what he hoped. “There are men enough left here to +give us a chance if we fight our way. Sam and Kua are worth enough to be +carried. I’ve never fought in the air and I wouldn’t be much help, so +I’ll carry Byrna. It’s worth trying, Elje. Better than waiting here to +be killed.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.” Elje’s voice was hopeless. “Better to die that way than this. All +right, Kern, we’ll go.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/> + <div class="caption"> + <p>“Better to die that way than this,” said Elja. “All right, Kern, we’ll go.”</p> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p>She turned and shouted commands to the last men around her. A few +minutes later the remnant of the rebel band went soaring into the air.</p> + +<p>The platform fell away below. It was like plunging into a maelstrom of +shouts and cries, groans, gasps for breath, the deafening beat of many +wings. Blood rained about them, knives flashed and fell, bodies hurtled +past toward the ground. With Byrna’s light weight in his arms, Kern beat +heavily upward. Confidence had suddenly begun to glow in him, against +all reason. They would make it. He was irrationally sure of that.</p> + +<p>And they did. But not all of them.</p> + +<p>Sam Brewster was the one who fell. Almost at the last, when their +depleted band had reached nearly the dome of the vaporous tent, a flung +knife transfixed one of Sam’s bearers between the wings. He screamed, +arched backward, and fell. Someone beside him dived too late for the +reeling basket-seat in which Sam rode. The mutant pitched forward into +space and dropped without a cry.</p> + +<p>It would have been suicide to dive back into that maelstrom of death in +an effort to catch him. Sick at heart, Kern saw him fall twisting toward +the ground. He saw, too, how man after man of the swarm around him +stiffened and dropped after Sam on limp wings as the mutant’s lethal +gaze took his own escort of dead men around him to his death.</p> + +<p>Then they plunged into the choking mists overhead, and no one had time +to think of anything but his own breathing, his own urgent need to +follow exactly in the wing-path of Kua’s bearers as she guided them +through the fog.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Like a gigantic thunderhead the Mountain lifted its clear, pale bulk +into the zenith. The mind quailed from the very thought of such height; +it seemed to lean forward over the fliers and hover for a monumental +collapse that would crush the world.</p> + +<p>When they drew close, Byrna shuddered in Kern’s arms and turned like a +child to clasp his neck and hide her face on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>“I can feel it,” she said in a muffled voice. “It’s watching. It’s +trying to—to get into my mind. Don’t think, Kern. Don’t let it reach +you!”</p> + +<p>Kern was briefly aware of a hot, coiling ribbon of hatred that moved +through his brain and was gone as his mind slammed its gates of thought +against the intruder. It was not easy to force his wings to carry them +onward when his whole mind rebelled against drawing any nearer to the +Mountain. He saw revulsion on the faces around him too, and caught +uneasy glances cast sideward at his face. Their pace had perceptibly +slowed.</p> + +<p>“I don’t like it either, Elje,” he said to the winged girl across the +swimming void that flowed past far below. “But we’ve got to do it. What +choice have we, except to be killed? They may be following us from the +cave already. Our only hope’s to reach the Mountain where we <i>may</i> do a +little damage before—” He did not finish. There was no need to finish.</p> + +<p>Now they were so near the wall of opalescence rising like the end of the +world before them that Kern could see their own reflections floating +distorted high up on the face of the cliff.</p> + +<p>“Is it glass?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“No one knows.” Elje controlled a shiver. “No one who came close enough +to find out ever returned. It may be just a—a solid mass. I don’t—” +She had glanced across her shoulder to answer him. Now her gaze went +further.</p> + +<p>“They’re following,” she said in a dull voice. “If it is solid, we’re +trapped.”</p> + +<p>Kern looked back. In a dark mass like a low, level cloud on the horizon, +the winged ranks of the enemy moved in their wake.</p> + +<p>Kua suddenly pointed.</p> + +<p>“Look ahead,” she said. “Up there on the cliff, to the left—is it a +cave? I—why, it’s opening wider!”</p> + +<p>Everyone looked eagerly. There was a moment’s silence. The Mountain too +seemed to wait and listen. But Kern saw no change in the face of the +cliff. Unbroken, unshadowed, opalescent, it lifted before them.</p> + +<p>Wind sighed past them toward the cliff, ruffling their wings. The sigh +grew stronger—was a rising sough of sound—a sough that soared to an +ear-stunning shriek. Headlong they whirled toward the Mountain, +helpless, drawn upon that sudden irresistible wind. Kern clutched Byrna +tighter and fought his wrenched wings as the cliff rose up in his face, +like a solid cloud.</p> + +<p>Dimly he could make out the shape of the opening at the same moment it +engulfed him. Stunned with surprise, he went tumbling into the cliffside +on that sucking wind, half-blinded by the opalescent mist which filled +the tunnel. It was like spinning through a solid, for the impalpable +stuff they flew through was indistinguishable to the eye from the stuff +of the Mountain itself.</p> + +<p>Light dimmed behind them as they were drawn helpless in tumbling flight +deeper and deeper into the heart of the cloud—the Mountain—there was +no term for what it was they sped through.</p> + +<p>The wind that bore them along slowed. The deafening noise of it fell and +was a sigh, a whisper—silence. For an instant they hung in opalescent +nothingness, gasping for breath. Then Kua’s voice sounded sweetly in the +hush.</p> + +<p>“Look back—look back! I can see the way we came. I can see it closing. +Like water flowing together. No, like running sand.”</p> + +<p>Kern ceased to hear her. For suddenly he was aware of an almost +imperceptible thickening in the mist around him. Something not seen, but +felt. A closing and a supporting, so that the weight of his body and +Byrna’s no longer hung wholly upon his wings. A solidifying in the very +air.</p> + +<p>He could not move.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p class="ph1">CHAPTER VII</p> + +<p class="ph2"><i>Combat</i></p> + + +<p>Relentlessly the Mountain which had opened to receive them had closed +again, gently and solidly. The little group of captives hung frozen in +the very postures of flight, spread-winged, hair still blowing in a wind +which no longer moved past them. They were frozen as if in a moment of +eternal Now, as if time had ceased to move and their own motions had +ceased with it.</p> + +<p>And then before them in the opalescent cloud of the Mountain a thin coil +of light began to glow.</p> + +<p>Swiftly it grew clearer. And Kern looked with the eyes of the body upon +that which he had seen before with the eyes of the mind. He felt the +malevolence beat out at them before the fire itself came wholly into +focus, strong hatred, curiously impersonal. It was the hatred of a +Mountain, a cloud, not a human hatred.</p> + +<p>The lazy, coiling ribbon moved through the solid fog, the foggy solid +glass, somewhere ahead of the captives. It was impossible to gauge +distances here, but the thing was close enough to see in every detail. +Its slowly writhing coil that drew in and out of its own folds with a +leisurely, never-ending motion. Its burning color that was hot to the +eye and hot to the perceptive mind with the heat of its consuming +hatred.</p> + +<p>Something lay within the coils. It was drawing its ribbon-folds +caressingly about that something. They could not yet see what.</p> + +<p>For an instant or two the great, slow, burning thing moved in its long +folds before them, blind and impersonal and hating. But then came a new +change. Then it looked at them.</p> + +<p>Spots of luminous darkness began to swim slowly through the coils. They +came and went. Whenever a coil moved itself to face the captives in the +solid glass, eye-spots swam upon that coil, flickering out again as the +fiery curve moved on.</p> + +<p>It watched. It waited and hated and was silent.</p> + +<p>That which lay within it, bathed in the caressing coils, began to move. +The coils altered their pattern to leave what they supported visible. +And Kern felt a shock of emptiness within him that made the vision blur +for a moment. When he looked again it was unmistakable and clear before +him.</p> + +<p>Bruce Hallam, lying quietly on the supporting coils, his eyes open and +regarding them as impersonally as the eyes that came and went upon the +ribbons of fire.</p> + +<p>“This—” Bruce Hallam said clearly “—is my world.”</p> + +<p>The words came to them as if through empty air, with a cold clarity that +allowed of no mistake. For it was not wholly Bruce Hallam who spoke. It +was a voice of fire too. Hatred and blinding light coiled through the +words as it coiled through the fog before their eyes. Two beings spoke +with the single voice, but two beings who were now one.</p> + +<p>Sudden memory flashed through Kern’s mind. He saw the long-ago, far-away +room again, where the little group of mutants had stepped from one +universe to another. He saw Bruce opening his steel door upon a waiting +world, searching it with his eyes, closing the door again. He understood +now. Bruce had known. Somehow, he had known in the single glance which +world held kinship for him and which did not.</p> + +<p>Bruce, with his mutant’s uncanny skill at creating out of any means at +hand the more-than-machinery which would do his bidding, had recognized +this world. Kern remembered with shock his own blindness when Elje had +described to him what the Mountain’s slaves, under its guidance, could +do with any material at hand—how, when they still suspected Kern of +complicity with the enemy, they had cleared his room of any matter out +of which he might build a weapon to destroy them.</p> + +<p>Yes, this world was Bruce Hallam’s—not Kern’s after all. A winged +world, yes, but a world under dominance. And Bruce’s was the dominant +realm.</p> + +<p>All this flashed through his mind with the swiftness of a single +thought, while Bruce’s coldly burning words still sounded in their ears. +He was remembering how impersonal Bruce had always been, how remote from +human feeling, when he heard the cold voice again.</p> + +<p>“There is no place in my world for you,” Bruce told them calmly. “There +is room only for the winged people—and Me. You come from malleable +flesh, a malleable heritage. I can not trust you here. My coming into +the world made a cyclone here in the Mountain, drawing out forces better +left untouched. I was helpless then. I could not save—myself—until I +was out of your reach. The time has come to destroy the last remnants of +those who defy me. And you mutants whose flesh I can not control must go +with the rest.”</p> + +<p>He did not stir, but the coiling flame moved with sudden quickened +speed, flowing toward them <i>through</i> the imprisoning glass which held +the humans so inflexibly. Bruce, then, was only the voice of this +dreadful duo. The ribbon of flame was the body.</p> + +<p>A long loop of it moved lazily forward, falling gently like a silk +ribbon through air. After it the fiery length followed gracefully, +weaving in and out of its own folds, and within the folds, always +caressed by them streaming over and around his body, Bruce Hallam moved +too, rigidly, supported on the coiling loops, not a muscle of his own +limbs stirring.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Kern watched them come. He had no idea what would happen when the +burning coils touched the first human, but he could feel the white heat +of its malevolence flow before it. Helpless, voiceless in the grip of +the unyielding glass, he strained fiercely for—for—he did not know +what. Only to be free to fight even uselessly against the oncoming +enemy.</p> + +<p>Sharply the thought in his mind broke in two. He had known this cleavage +before, but the utter strangeness of it stunned him for a moment so that +his thoughts went blank while something, <i>something</i> stirred incredibly +through his body.</p> + +<p>The old feeling of change, of unutterable newness, of an unguessed sense +opening within him like nothing man ever knew before.</p> + +<p>Three times he had known this feeling since he stepped into the winged +world. Three times he had crushed it down, fearing and hating it for its +threat of making him alien again, alien to the winged people he had +hoped would be his own. But this time he did not fight. This time, in +the violent, straining effort to break free, he broke instead some +barrier which had until now held back the new thing, the <i>something</i> +which had burgeoned relentlessly within him ever since he came within +the Mountain’s realm.</p> + +<p>The glass walls that held him like a prisoner in ice grew dim and +vanished. His companions pilloried in glass beside him wavered into +darkness. He no longer felt the warmth of Byrna frozen in glass in his +arms. Everything was dark—even the slow—coiling ribbons that looped +leisurely toward him through solid substance.</p> + +<p>And then out of that darkness came light. All about him came light. And +it took a long moment for him to discover he was not seeing that light +with eyes. He was seeing it—incredibly, impossibly—with his whole +body. He saw everything around him in one all-encompassing range.</p> + +<p>“This is the way the Mountain sees,” he knew with sudden certainty. How +he knew it was not clear; it was a knowledge that came with the new +vision. He and the Mountain, they shared a common faculty.</p> + +<p>Motion far away caught his fathomless attention and he was looking out +through the clouded side of the Mountain and seeing, as if he stood +before them, the flight of the oncoming winged men who had followed the +fugitives from the eyrie. They were nearly here now, approaching the +monstrous cliff as blindly as if they meant to dash themselves to death +against it.</p> + +<p>With the same all-embracing sight, Kern was aware of the people frozen +around him into the glass, and of the looping coils that flowed toward +them, and of Bruce Hallam, rigid as an image of stone, moving with the +moving ribbons.</p> + +<p>But they looked very different now. The people.</p> + +<p>He knew their faces, the familiar outlines of their bodies, but he could +see through the bodies with his new vision. And the appalling thing he +saw was not the structure of bone and muscle and nerve which a part of +his mind expected there. These things were only pale shadows upon +the—the <i>other</i>.</p> + +<p>The people were rings of flat, luminous color, disc upon disc of it, +superimposed, overlapping, no two people with the same patterns or the +same colors. And he knew that the muscular structure humans are aware +of, the skeleton, the nerves, are only a part of what comprises them. +Only a part—and not the part important to the Mountain. The Mountain +ruled by other means.</p> + +<p>Every flying man approaching outside the cliff had one thing in common +with his fellows. Each was made up of ring after ring of colors, +brilliant arcs and half-moons lying one upon another and in continual +delicate shifting motion. But in each, and moving slowly over the rings, +a circle of luminous darkness swung. Darkness like the eyes which swam +up to the surface of the coiling ribbons that embraced Bruce Hallam. An +eye—the eye of the Mountain.</p> + +<p>That was the thing the Mountain used in them to transmit its commands, +then. The point of contact in each man that made him a slave when the +orders came.</p> + +<p>There was no such eye in any of the people imprisoned around Kern. He +saw his own body with this new vision, rings and discs of color like the +rest, and with no dark, circling spot that meant the Mountain owned him.</p> + +<p>The Mountain is a creature of glass, he told himself clearly. Its body +is this opalescent stuff which is solid or gas as the Mountain wills. It +can make tunnels and caverns like open mouths through it and close them +again. And its brain, its motivating force, is the ribbon of fire, +endless, revolving upon itself in the center. It has many strange +senses. One of them I share now.</p> + +<p>He thought: When we came here, we somehow brought on a cyclone of +violent forces drawn from the Mountain itself. Because Bruce Hallam had +an inhuman kinship with the entity which dwells here. But it was an +entity so strong, so accustomed to mold the minds of its victims and use +them like tools to create other tools, that we ourselves were reshaped +without knowing it.</p> + +<p>This strange new sense began very early to take shape in me. Kua reacted +too, and Byrna. Sam? I don’t know. He’s gone. But as for me, I have +changed.</p> + +<p>Something stirred mysteriously through his flesh, and without the need +to look down, Kern’s horizon-circling vision told him that light had +begun to glow in him—fire—long, rolling loops of fire that stretched +with incredible flexibility <i>through</i> the solid glass imprisoning him.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>The ribbon of fire upon which Bruce’s body rode paused in its motion, +hesitated, almost drew back. Kern felt dimly its surprise and its +strange, inhuman hatred. But only dimly, for his own mind was too +stunned with this final revelation to let any other feeling through.</p> + +<p>Too malleable, he thought despairingly—flesh too malleable to hold its +own form under the irresistible altering pull that was the Mountain. And +now through the icy glass which held the humans rigid, two shapes of +coiling flame turned lazily over and over—one shape supporting a human +body and glowing incandescent with malevolence, the other still too +amazed for emotion, but stretching its new limbs of fire with a sort of +reluctant, voluptuous luxury as the endless ribbon rolled in +convolutions of flame in and out of its own length. A strange, inhuman +luxury, this, to stretch upon the firm, permeable glass, moving through +it as light might move, in a dimension of its own.</p> + +<p>Hatred like a blast of furnace-heat struck upon Kern’s new awareness +with an impact that jolted him out of this bewildering mental fog. Hate +and fear. He had felt that blast before, invisibly in the voids of +thought, and terror had come with it so that he fled blindly to escape. +But this time fear did not follow after the hate. This time he welcomed +conflict.</p> + +<p>“Now we’re equals—matched equals,” he told himself, and felt even in +this moment of danger and surprise the utter difference of his own mind +through which thoughts moved slowly and clearly, like his new limbs +through the solidity of the glass. If he had ever owned a body of flesh +and blood, it was his no longer. If his mind had ever dwelt there and +shaped its thoughts to the contours of brain and skull, they were shaped +no longer. This was new, new, terrible and wonderful beyond human +understanding.</p> + +<p>Slow exultation began to burn in him as he rolled the great coils of +fire which were his body toward that which until now had dwelt here +alone. Now the Mountain had a double mind—if the fiery ribbon was +indeed the mind of the thing—but moving still through a single gigantic +body of opalescent glass. And within that vast body, the doubled mind +moved upon itself in suicidal combat.</p> + +<p>Hatred was a bath of flame that engulfed him as their farthest coiling +loops touched—touched and engaged with sudden violence. But Kern was +not afraid now, not repelled. With a surging lunge he tested the +strength in that shape which was the twin of his own. The ribbons +writhed and strained. Then they paused for a moment and drew back in +mutual consent. And simultaneously, as if hurled by a single mind, +lunged forward again.</p> + +<p>This time the fiery limbs entangled until their full endlessly revolving +lengths were wholly engaged with one another and the two identical +shapes of rolling fire strove furiously together in a single knot that +boiled with ceaseless motion.</p> + +<p>Hatred burned and bubbled all around Kern’s awareness as he strove coil +against coil with the enemy. But it did not touch him any more. He felt +no fear. And when he began to realize that he could not vanquish this +being by strength alone, not even then did he feel fear. Emotion was +gone from him. Coil by coil he tested the thing he strove with, and coil +by coil he found it braced irresistibly against his greatest strength. +He could not swerve it by a single loop.</p> + +<p>But it could not swerve him. Matched in strength as they were in shape, +the two creatures of flame lay for a moment upon the clouded ice, limb +straining against limb in a perilous balance that permitted of no +motion.</p> + +<p>Then, very delicately, the awareness that had been Kern reached out with +a sense he had not until this moment known he possessed, and touched the +frozen body of Bruce Hallam. For he knew now that he and this enemy were +too perfectly matched for either to prevail, unless one or the other +found a lever by which his adversary could be overthrown.</p> + +<p>Was it Bruce? Gently, and then with increasing pressure, he tried that +rigid, unyielding body which had once been human. There was +nothing—nothing. Not even the discs of overlapping color which the +still-human exhibited to his new sight moved through Bruce’s limbs. He +was solid, unmoving, a shape of nothingness, and no sense could touch +him. No, Bruce was not the source through which strength might be +drained from the enemy.</p> + +<p>What, then? Kern asked himself with passionless consideration. And the +answer came clearly and unhurried, as if it had waited only this query +to reply.</p> + +<p>The winged men waiting outside the mountain—that was the answer.</p> + +<p>Almost outstripping the thought, his sight and his strange new senses +leaped to the surface of the Mountain. There the slaves hung on +stretched wings, tilting to the updrafts from below, circling and +soaring and waiting in mindless obedience for the command that would +release them from their mental thrall.</p> + +<p>Once he had seen them as winged humans fighting with fanatic violence. +Now they were only shapes of overlapping discs, full of slowly turning +motion, and in each the Eye of the Mountain swimming leisurely over the +surface of the colors.</p> + +<p><i>The Eye</i>, he thought. The Eye!</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Like a new, unguessed arm his awareness shot out and plunged into the +nearest spot of darkness which swam over the colored discs. Plunged +in—groped for contact—and tapped a source of flame. Up through the arm +the flame leaped, and into Kern’s body of matching flame. Almost +imperceptibly he felt the straining coils of the enemy give beneath the +pressure of his own.</p> + +<p>Another, and another and another of the flying shapes gave up its tiny +source of fire, and Kern’s strength grew with each. The combat which had +hung motionless in mutual violence now writhed suddenly into action +again as the balance was destroyed. But the fury of the enemy seemed to +double too as it felt itself bent backward upon its own fiery coils.</p> + +<p>What had been combat before the stasis turned into abrupt turmoil now. +The two ribbons of flame convulsed together, lashing and whipping into +an incandescent fury of struggle. And Kern knew in a timeless moment or +two that even this was not enough. He must find some last source of +power to give him the victory.</p> + +<p>The arm with which he had robbed the flying men of their Eyes groped, +plunged deeper, seeking more power within them. And amazingly, found it.</p> + +<p>For an instant Kern could not understand why strength in a full, deep +tide flowed into him as the light began to fail in his enemy. And then +he understood, and a surge of triumph for the first time glowed through +his whole being.</p> + +<p>For in giving its strength to its slaves, that it might command them, +the Enemy had opened a channel which ran both ways. And in draining the +slaves, Kern found himself draining the Enemy itself—reaching back and +back through each slave into the source from which that strength came.</p> + +<p>From a score, a hundred channels, the Mountain must have felt its own +power drain away. Its power, but not its hate. Kern could feel the +sheer, inhuman malevolence burning about him in great washes of flame as +the strength of the coils against his grew steadily weaker. The fire +sank down within it, dimming and fading as the creature bled its own +power away—bled flame, and slowly, slowly died!</p> + +<p>The turning ribbons of light no longer moved against Kern’s awareness. +His limbs engulfed not a luminous involuted band, but a thin, pale +hatred which fell apart as he drew his own body back. It fell apart into +a tiny rain of droplets, each of them dancing with its own seed of hate. +Twinkling, fading, and the hatred fading with them, until they were +gone.</p> + +<p>Kern felt change all about him, in the substance of the Mountain itself. +A vast, imponderable shifting of the clouded glass, a falling apart of +the atoms which composed it, as its soul of fire had fallen. The +opalescent stuff was a fog—a mist—a thin, dissipating gas which no +longer supported him. The cold of clear air struck terribly upon his +fiery limbs as the Mountain dissolved from about him. He convulsed upon +himself in a knot of flame that seemed to consume itself and to +cease—to cease—</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Everything was blank around him. Neither dark nor light, but void. He +hung motionless upon nothing. He was no longer a shape of flame. He was +no longer a shape of flesh. He was nothing, nowhere.</p> + +<p>This was infinity, where time was not. For milleniums, he thought, he +drifted there upon oblivion. Milleniums, or moments!</p> + +<p>From far away a something began to be. He did not recognize it—he knew +only that where nothingness had been, now there was a something. He +heard a call. That was it, a call, a sound of incredible sweetness.</p> + +<p>A voice? Yes, it was a voice of sheer melody, saying a name. He did not +know the name.</p> + +<p>“Kern—Kern,” it cried. The syllable had no meaning to him, but the +sweetness of the voice that shaped it gradually began to rouse him from +his stupor. Over and over the syllable sounded, and then with a sudden +blaze of awareness he knew it for what it was.</p> + +<p>“My name!” he thought with amazement. “My own name!”</p> + +<p>The mind came back into him, and he knew. Like Bruce Hallam, he had hung +frozen and empty from the touch of the all-consuming fire which had been +himself. Like Bruce, he had been emptier than death.</p> + +<p>“Kern, Kern, come back,” wailed the voice of impossible sweetness. He +knew it now. Byrna’s voice, lovely as a siren’s magical song, summoning +him back to the living.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt=""/> + <div class="caption"> + <p>He heard a voice of impossible sweetness, and slowly, slowly, he felt warmth return to him.</p> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p>Slowly, slowly, he felt warmth return to him. Slowly he drew his mind +together again, and then his body came back around him, and with +infinite effort he lifted the eyelids that shut out the world.</p> + +<p>He lay on a hillside in the full warm tide of the sunlight which poured +down from an empty sky. There was no Mountain any more. No vertiginous +thunderhead of glass towering up the zenith, casting its pale shadow +across the world. Someone bent over him, holding her wings to shut the +sun’s glare from his eyes. Her wings glistened.</p> + +<p>Tentatively he flexed his own. And then strength came back with a +magical rush to him, and he sat up with a strong beat of his pinions +that almost lifted him from the ground. All around him smiling faces +watched in the shadow of their wings.</p> + +<p>And he knew that he was free at last, and the winged world was free. And +he was no longer alien.</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 68378 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/68378-h/images/cover.jpg~ b/68378-h/images/cover.jpg~ Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..70d1c1a --- /dev/null +++ b/68378-h/images/cover.jpg~ diff --git a/68378-h/images/illus1.jpg~ b/68378-h/images/illus1.jpg~ Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..deac584 --- /dev/null +++ b/68378-h/images/illus1.jpg~ diff --git a/68378-h/images/illus2.jpg~ b/68378-h/images/illus2.jpg~ Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..237d800 --- /dev/null +++ b/68378-h/images/illus2.jpg~ diff --git a/68378-h/images/illus3.jpg~ b/68378-h/images/illus3.jpg~ Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6377dd5 --- /dev/null +++ b/68378-h/images/illus3.jpg~ diff --git a/68378-h/images/illusc.jpg~ b/68378-h/images/illusc.jpg~ Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..14680ef --- /dev/null +++ b/68378-h/images/illusc.jpg~ diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8370c1f --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #68378 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68378) diff --git a/old/68378-0.txt~ b/old/68378-0.txt~ new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0ca27e6 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/68378-0.txt~ @@ -0,0 +1,2974 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Way of the gods, by Henry Kuttner + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: Way of the gods + +Author: Henry Kuttner + +Release Date: June 23, 2022 [eBook #68378] + +Language: English + +Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan, Alex White & the online + Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at + https://www.pgdpcanada.net. + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAY OF THE GODS *** + + + + + + WAY OF THE GODS + + By HENRY KUTTNER + + _Spawn of atomic fission, this strange company + of mutants exiled by humanity battles against + enslavement in a foreign world dominated by + the evil Spirit of the Crystal Mountain!_ + + [Transcriber’s Note: This etext was produced from + Thrilling Wonder Stories, April 1947. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that + the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] + + + + + CHAPTER I + + _New Worlds_ + + +He looked at the October morning all about him as if he had never seen +October before. That was not true, of course. But he knew that he would +never see it again. Unless they had mornings, and Octobers—where he was +going. It did not seem likely, though the old man had talked a great +deal about key-patterns and the selectivity of the machine, and the +multiple universes spinning like motes in a snowstorm through infinity. + +“But I’m human!” he said aloud, sitting cross-legged on the warm brown +earth and feeling the breeze which gave the lie instantly to his +thought. He felt the gentle pull at his shoulder-blades which meant that +his wings were fluttered a little by the breeze, and instinctively he +flexed the heavy bands of muscle across his chest to control the +wing-surfaces. + +He was not human. That was the trouble. And this world, this bright +October world that stretched to the horizon around him was made to +shelter the race that had become dominant, and was jealous of its +dominion. Humanity, that had no place for strangers among its ranks. + +The others did not seem to care very much. They had been reared in the +creche almost from birth, under a special regime that isolated them from +the humans. The old man had been responsible for that. He had built the +huge house on the hillside, swooping curves of warmly-colored plastic +that blended into the brown and green of the land—an asylum that had +finally failed. The walls were breached. + +“Kern,” someone behind him said. + +The winged man turned his head, glancing up past the dark curve of his +wings. A girl came toward him down the slope from the house. Her name +was Kua. Her parents had been Polynesian, and she had the height and the +lithe grace of her Oceanic race, and the shining dark hair, the warm, +honey-colored skin. But she wore opaque dark glasses, and across her +forehead a band of dark plastic that looked opaque too, and was not. +Beneath, her face was lovely, the red mouth generously curved, the +features softly rounded like the features of all her race. + +She was not human either. + +“It’s no use worrying, Kern,” she said, smiling down at him. “It’ll work +out all right. You’ll see.” + +“All right!” Kern snorted scornfully. “You think so, do you?” + +Kua glanced instinctively around the hillside, making sure they were +alone. Then she put both hands to her face and slipped off the glasses +and the dark band from her forehead. Kern, meeting the gaze of her +bright blue eye, was conscious again of the little shock he always felt +when he looked into her uncovered face. + +For Kua was a cyclops. She had one eye centered in her forehead. And she +was—when the mind could accept her as she was, not as she should be—a +beautiful woman in spite of it. That blue brilliance in the dusky face +had a depth and luster beyond the eyes of humans. Heavy lashes ringed +it, and the gaze could sink fathom upon fathom in her eye and never +plumb its depths. + + * * * * * + +Kua’s eye was a perfect lens. Whatever lens can do, her eye could do. No +one could be sure just what miraculous mechanisms existed beyond the +blue surface, but she could see to a distance almost beyond the range of +the ordinary telescope and she could focus down upon the microscopic. +And there may have been other things the single eye could do. One did +not question one’s companions too closely in this house of the +mutations. + +“You’ve been with us two years, Kern,” she was saying now. “Only two +years. You don’t know yet how strong we are, or how much we can +accomplish among us. Bruce Hallam knows what he’s doing, Kern. He never +works on theories. Or if he does, the theories become truth. He has a +mind like that. You don’t know us, Kern!” + +“You can’t fight a whole world.” + +“No. But we can leave it.” She smiled, and he knew she saw nothing of +the golden morning all around them. She knew nothing, really, of the +cities that dotted the world of 1980, or the lives that were so +irrevocably alien to her. They should have been alien to Kern too, but +not until he was eighteen had the wings begun to grow upon his +shoulders. + +“I don’t know, Kua,” he said. “I’m not sure I want to. I had a father +and a mother—brothers—friends.” + +“Your parents are your greatest enemies,” she told him flatly. “They +gave you life.” + +He looked away from the penetrating stare of that great blue single eye +and past her at the big plastic house. That had been asylum, after the +massacre of 1967—asylum against the hordes bent on extirpating the +freakish monsters created by atomic radiation. He could not remember, of +course, but he had read about it, never guessing then that such a thing +would ever apply to him. The old man had told him the story. + +First had come the atomic war, brief, terrible, letting loose nameless +radiations upon the world. And then had followed the wave upon wave of +freak births among those exposed to it. Genes and chromosomes altered +beyond comprehension. Monstrous things were born of human parents. + +One in ten, perhaps, had been a successful mutation. And even those were +dangerous to homo sapiens. + +Evolution is like a roulette wheel. The conditions of the earth favor +certain types of mutation capable of survival. But atomic energies had +upset the balance, and mutations spawned in sheer madness began to +spread. Not many, of course. Not many were viable. But two-headed things +were born—and lived—along with geniuses and madmen. World Council had +studied the biological and social problem for a long time before it +recommended euthanasia. Man’s evolution had been planned and charted. It +must not be allowed to swerve from the track, or chaos would be let +loose. + +Geniuses, mutant humans with abnormally high I.Q.’s, were allowed to +survive. Of the others, none lived after they had been detected. +Sometimes they were difficult to detect. By 1968 only the true-line +mutations, faithful to the human biological norm, were alive—with +certain exceptions. + + * * * * * + +Such as the old man’s son, Sam Brewster. He was a freak, with a +certain—talent. A superhuman talent. The old man had disobeyed the +Government law, for he had not sent the infant to the labs for checking +and testing—and annihilation. Instead, he had built this great house, +and the boy had never gone far beyond its grounds. + +Gradually then, partly to provide the youth with companionship, partly +out of compassion, the father had begun to gather others together. +Secretly, a mutant infant here, a mutant child there, he brought them +in, until he had a family of freaks in the big plastic house. He had not +taken them haphazardly. Some would not have been safe to live with. Some +were better dead from the start But those with something to offer beyond +their freakishness, he found and sheltered. + +It was the bringing in of Kern that gave the secret away. The boy had +gone too long among ordinary humans, while his wings grew. He was +eighteen, and his pinions had a six-foot spread, when old Mr. Brewster +found him. His family had tried to keep him hidden, but the news was +leaking out already when he left for the Brewster asylum, and in the +years since it had spread until the authorities at last issued their +ultimatum. + +“It was my fault,” Kern said bitterly. “If it hadn’t been for me, you’d +never have been molested.” + +“No.” Kua’s deep, luminous eye fixed his. “Sooner or later you know +they’d have found us. Better let it happen now, while we’re all still +young and adaptable. We can go and enjoy going, now.” Her voice shook a +little with deep excitement. “Think of it, Kern! New worlds! Places +beyond the earth, where there could be people like us!” + +“But Kua, I’m human! I feel human. I don’t want to leave. This is where +I belong!” + +“You say that because you grew up among normal people. Kern, you’ve got +to face it. Tire only place for any of us is—somewhere away.” + +“I know.” He grinned wryly. “But I don’t have to like it. Well—we’d +better go back. They’ll have the ultimatum by now, I suppose. May as +well hear it. I know what the answer is. Don’t you?” + +She nodded, watching his involuntary glance around the empty blue sky, +the warm October hills. A world for humans. But for humans alone.... + +Back in the Brewster plastic asylum, the inmates had assembled. + +“There isn’t much time,” old Mr. Brewster said. “They’re on their way +here now, to take you all back for euthanasia.” + +Sam Brewster laughed harshly. + +“We could show ’em a few tricks.” + +“No. You can’t fight the whole world. You could kill many of them, but +it wouldn’t do any good. Bruce’s machine is the only hope for you all.” +His voice broke a little. “It’s going to be a lonely world for me, +children, after you’ve gone.” + +They looked at him uncomfortably, this strange, unrelated family of +freak mutations, scarcely more than the children he had called them, but +matured beyond their years by their strange rearing. + +“There are worlds beyond counting, as you know,” Bruce said precisely. +“Infinite numbers—worlds where we might not be freaks at all. Somewhere +among them there must be places where each of our mutations is a norm. +I’ve set the machine to the aggregate pattern of us all and it’ll find +our equivalents—something to suit one of us at least. And the others +can go on looking. I can build the machine in duplicate on any world, +anywhere, where I can live at all.” He smiled, and his strange light +eyes glowed. + +It was curious, Kern thought, how frequently in mutations the eyes were +the giveaway. Kua, of course. And Sam Brewster with his terrible veiled +glance protected by its secondary lid which drew back only in anger. And +Bruce Hallam, whose strangeness was not visible but existed only in the +amazing intricacies of his brain, looked upon the alien world with eyes +that mirrored the mysteries behind them. + +Bruce knew machinery—call it machinery for lack of a more comprehensive +word—with a knowledge that was beyond learning. He could produce +miracles with any set of devices his fingers could contrive. He seemed +to sense by sheer instinct the courses of infinite power, and harness +them with the simplest ease, the simplest mechanics. + +There was a steel cubicle in the corner of the room with a round steel +door which had taken Bruce a week to set up. Over it a panel burned with +changing light, flickering through the spectrum and halting now and then +upon clear red. When it was red, then the—the world—upon which the +steel door opened was a world suitable for the little family of +mutations to enter. The red light meant it could support human life, +that it paralleled roughly the world they already knew, and that +something in its essential pattern duplicated the pattern of at least +one of the mutant group. + +Kern was dizzy when he thought of the sweep of universes past that door, +world whirling upon world where no human life could dwell, worlds of gas +and flame, worlds of ice and rock. And, one in a countless number, a +world of sun and water like their own.... + + * * * * * + +It was incredible. But so were the wings at his own back, so was Kua’s +cyclopean eye, and Sam Brewster’s veiled gaze, and so was the brain in +Bruce Hallam’s skull, which had built a bridge for them all. + +He glanced around the group. Sitting back against the wall, in shadow, +Byrna, the last of the mutant family, lifted her gray gaze to his. +Compassion touched him as always when he met her eyes. + +Byrna was physically the most abnormal of them all, in her sheer +smallness. She came scarcely to Kern’s elbow when she was standing. She +was proportioned perfectly in the scale of her size, delicate, fragile +as something of glass. But she was not beautiful to look at. There was a +wrongness about her features that made them pathetically ugly, and the +sadness in her gray eyes seemed to mirror the sadness of all misfit +things. + +Byrna’s voice had magic in it, and so did her brain. Wisdom came as +simply to her as knowledge came to Bruce Hallam, but she had infinitely +more warmth than he. Bruce, Kern sometimes thought, would dismember a +human as dispassionately as he would cut wire in two if he needed the +material for an experiment. Bruce looked the most normal of them all, +but he would not have passed the questioning of the most superficial +mental examination. + +Now his voice was impatient. “What are we waiting for? Everything’s +ready.” + +“Yes, you must go quickly,” the old man said. “Look—the light’s coming +toward red now, isn’t it?” + +The panel above the steel door was orange. As they watched it shifted +and grew ruddier. Bruce went silently forward and laid his hand on the +lever that opened the panel. When the light was pure red he pushed the +steel bar down. + +In half-darkness beyond the opening a gust of luminous atoms blew across +a craggy horizon. Against it there was a suggestion of towers and arches +and columns, and lights that might have been aircraft swung in steady +orbits above. + +No one spoke. After a moment Bruce closed the door again, grimacing. The +light above it hovered toward a reddish purple and then turned blue. + +“Not that world,” Bruce said. “We’ll try again.” + +In the shadow Byrna murmured: + +“It doesn’t matter—any world will be the same for us.” Her voice was +pure music. + +“Listen! Do you hear planes?” the old man said. “It’s time, children. +You must go.” + +There was silence. Every eye watched the lighted panel. Colors hovered +there to and fro through the spectrum. A faint ruddiness began to glow +again. + +“This time we’ll take it if it looks all right,” Bruce said, and laid +his hand again upon the lever. + +The light turned red. Soundlessly the round door swung open. + +Sunlight came through, low green hills, and the clustered roofs of a +town were visible a little distance away in a valley. + +Without a word or a backward glance Bruce stepped through the door. One +by one the others moved after him, Kern last. Kern’s lips were pressed +together and he did not glance behind him. He could have seen the hills +of earth beyond the windows, and the blue October sky. He would not look +at them. He shrugged his wings together and stooped to enter the gateway +of the new world. + +Behind them the old man watched in silence, seeing the work of his +lifetime ending before his eyes. The gulf between them was too broad for +leaping. He was human and they were not. Across a vast distance, vaster +than the gulf between worlds, he saw the family of the mutations step +over their threshold and vanish forever. + +He closed the door after them. The red light faded above it. He turned +toward his own door where the knocking of World Council’s police had +already begun to summon him to his accounting. + + + + + CHAPTER II + + _His Own Kind_ + + +Above them, the sky was blue. The five aliens who were alien to all +worlds alike stood together on a hilltop looking down. + +“It’s beautiful,” Kua said. “I’m glad we chose this one. But I wonder +what the next one would have been like if we could have waited.” + +“It will be the same no matter where we go,” Byrna’s infinitely sweet +voice murmured. + +“Look at the horizon,” Bruce said. “What is it?” + +They saw then the first thing that marked this world alien to earth. For +the most part it might have been any hilly wooded land they knew from +the old place; even the roofs of the village looked spuriously familiar. +But the horizon was curiously misted, and before them, far off, +rose—something—to an impossible height halfway up the zenith. + +“A mountain?” Kern asked doubtfully. “It’s too high, isn’t it?” + +“A glass mountain,” Kua said. “Yes, it is glass—or plastic? I can’t be +sure.” + +She had uncovered her single eye and the shining pupil was contracted as +she gazed over impossible distances at the equally impossible bulk of +that thing on the horizon. It rose in a vast sweep of opalescent color, +like a translucent thundercloud hanging over the whole land. Knowing it +for a mountain, the mind felt vertiginous at the thought of such +tremendous bulk towering overhead. + +“It looks clear,” Kua said. “All the way through. I can’t tell what’s +beyond it. Just an enormous mountain made out of—of plastic? I wonder.” + +Kern was aware of a tugging at his wing-surfaces, and glanced around in +quick recognition of the strengthening breeze. He was the first to +notice it. + +“It’s beginning to blow. And listen—do you hear?” + +It grew louder as they stood there, a shrill, strengthening whine in the +air coming from the direction of the cloudlike mountain. A whine that +grew so rapidly they had scarcely recognized it as noise before it was +deafening all about them, and the wind was like a sudden hurricane. + +That passed in a gust, noise and wind alike, leaving them breathless and +staring at one another in dismay. + +“Look, over there, quick!” Kua said, “Another one’s coming!” + +Far off, but moving toward them with appalling speed, came a monstrous +spinning tower of—light? Smoke? They could not be sure. + +It whirled like a waterspout in a typhoon, vast, bending majestically +and righting itself again, and the air spun with it, and the wild, +shrill screaming began again. + +The vortex of brilliance passed them far to the left, catching them in +its shrieking hurricane of riven air and then releasing them again into +shaken silence. But there was another one on its way before they had +caught their breath again, a whirling, bowing tower that spun screeching +off toward the right. And after it another, and close behind that, a +fourth. + +The noise and the violence of the wind stunned Kern so that he had no +idea what was happening to the others on the hilltop. He was susceptible +because of his wings. The hurricane caught him up and whirled him +sideward down the slope—shrieking in his ears with a noise so great it +was almost silence, beyond the range of sound. + +Stunned, he struggled for balance, leaning against the rushing wall of +air as solid as a wall of stone. For a moment or two he kept the ground +underfoot. Then his wings betrayed him and, in spite of himself, he felt +the six-foot pinions blown wide and the muscles ached across his chest +with the violence of the wind striking their spread surfaces. + +The horizon tilted familiarly as he swooped in a banking curve. The +glass mountain for a moment hung overhead and he looked straight down at +the wooded hills, seeing tiny blowing figures reeling across the slopes +in the grip of the hurricane winds. Hanging here far above the treetops, +he could see that the monsters of whirling light were coming thicker and +faster across the hilltops, striding like giants, trailing vortices of +wind and sound in their wake. For an instant he swung in the grip of the +hurricane, watching the vast whirling spindles moving and bowing +majestically across the face of the new earth. + +Then the vortex caught him again and he was spun blindly into the heart +of the whirlwind, deafened with its terrible screaming uproar, wrenched +this way and that upon aching wings, too dizzy for fear or thought. Time +ceased. Half senseless, he was whirled to and fro upon the irresistible +winds. He closed his eyes against flying dust, locked his hands over his +ears to shut out the deafening shrill of the blast and let the hurricane +do with him as it would. + +Kern felt a hand on his arm and roused himself out of a half-stupor. + +He thought, I must be on the ground again, and made an instinctive +effort to sit up. The motion threw him into a ludicrous spin and he +opened his eyes wide to see the earth whirling far below him. + +He was coasting at terrific speed through the upper air upon a cold, +screaming highway of wind, and moving easily beside him, riding on broad +pinions like his own, a girl paralleled his flight. + + * * * * * + +Long pale hair streamed behind her away from her blue-eyed face, whipped +to pinkness by the blast. She was calling something to him, but the +words were snatched from her lips by the wind and he heard nothing +except that shrill, continuous howling all around them. He could see +that she held him by one arm, and with her free hand was pointing +downward vehemently. He could not hear her words, and knew he probably +could not understand them if he did, but the gesture’s meaning he could +not mistake. + +Nodding, he shrugged his left wing high and arched his body for a long +downward spiral toward the ground. The girl turned with him, and +together they glided sidewise across the rushing air-currents, +delicately tacking against the wind, picking their way by instinctive +muscular reactions of the spread pinions, while below them the ground +swayed and turned like a fluid sea. + +[Illustration: Together they glided across the rushing air currents.] + +Kern glided downward on a wave of exultation like nothing he had ever +experienced before in his life. He knew little about this world or about +the girl beside him, but one thing stood out clearly—he was no longer +alone. No longer the only winged being on an alien planet. And this long +downward glide, like the motion of perfect dancers responding each to +the other’s most delicate motion, was the most satisfying thing he had +ever known. + +For the first time he realized one of the great secrets of a flying +race—to fly alone is to know only half the joy of flying. When another +winged being moves beside you on the airways, speed matching speed, +wings beating as one, then at last you taste the full ecstasy of flight. + +Kern was breathless with joy and excitement when the ground swooped up +at them and he banked against the rush of his glide. With suddenly +fluttering wings, he reversed his position in the air and felt with both +feet for the solid earth. He had to run a little to cut down his speed, +and the girl ran beside him, breathless and laughing a bit as she ran. + +When they came to a halt and swung to face one another the long ashen +hair blew forward in a cloud that had caught up with her at last, and +she fought it, laughing, and brushed back the tangled mass with both +hands, the pale wings the exact color of her hair folding back from her +shoulders. + +He saw now that she wore a tight tunic of some very fine, supple +leather, and long tight boots of the same material. The hilt of a +jeweled knife stood up against her ribs from a jeweled belt. + +Around them the wind still blew cold and shrill, but the blast of it was +slackening noticeably and warmth was creeping back little by little into +the air. They stood on a wooded hill, under trees whose whipping +branches added to the tumult of noise, and Kern could see a broad vista +of the land before him, with no more of the vast bending giants of the +hurricane moving across it. The storm must be over, he thought. + +The girl spoke. She had a pleasant contralto voice, and the language she +spoke was slightly guttural and of course entirely strange. Kern saw the +surprise and doubt on her face when she saw that he did not understand +her. + +“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re a pretty thing. I wish we could talk to +each other.” + +She matched his smile, but the bewilderment deepened on her face. + +Kern thought, She can’t believe I don’t know her language. Could that +mean there’s only one tongue spoken in this world? It’s wishful +thinking—I want so much to believe it! Because that might mean the +people here are all winged, and move around so easily that separate +languages haven’t had a chance to evolve. + +His heart was beating faster, with an eagerness that he found a little +ludicrous. He had never suspected even in his own dreams how much it +would mean to him to belong at last to a race that could accept him as +one of its own. Bruce Hallam had set his machine in the aggregate +pattern of the whole mutant group, knowing as he did so how unlikely it +was that more than one of them could hope for an equivalent world on a +single planet. But Bruce’s skill being what it was, Kern told himself +there was no reason to be surprised that the expected had happened. + +This world was his own. A winged world. He was luckiest and first of the +group to find a place where he belonged. Exultation closed up his throat +with the joy of being no longer alien. + +“Or maybe I’m building too much on one example,” he warned himself +aloud. “Are we all winged in this world, girl? Say something, quick. I +want to learn your language! Answer me, girl—are you an alien too, or +is this the world where I belong?” + +She laughed at him, recognizing the half-serious tone of his voice +though the words meant nothing. And then her glance went across his +shoulder, and a look of subtle withdrawal crossed her face. She said +something in her guttural tongue and nodded toward the trees behind +Kern. + +He turned. A third winged figure was walking toward them under the +still-roaring trees, wings whipped by the wind until the newcomer +staggered now and then when the full blast caught him. + + * * * * * + +Kern was aware at first only of profound thankfulness. Another winged +person was almost the answer to his remaining doubt. Where there were +two, surely there must be many. + +This was a man. Like the girl, he wore thin, tight leather and a dagger +at his belt. His hair was red, and so were his silky wings, but his face +was duskily tanned and Kern caught the flash of sidelong, light eyes as +the man approached them. He saw, too, in another moment, that the +newcomer was a hunchback. Between the shining reddish wings the man’s +back was slightly crooked, so that he looked up at them with his head +awry. He had a young face, with beautiful clear planes, beneath the +darkness of his tan. + +“Gerd—” the girl called, and then hesitated. He flashed the light eyes +at her, and Kern decided it was probably his name. + +The pale gaze moved back to Kern, and watched him searchingly as the +hunchback fought the wind to the shelter of their tree. The man was +wary, ready for distrust before he so much as saw Kern’s face. It was +odd, in a way. + +They talked, the girl excitedly in her contralto voice, guttural words +tumbling over each other. Gerd’s answers were brief, in an unexpectedly +deep tone. Presently he unsheathed his dagger and with it gestured +toward Kern and the valley below them. + +Kern bristled a little. There was no need for threats. If these people +were still in a state of undevelopment where knives were their customary +weapon, he was far beyond them in some ways at least. It was not a +pleasant introduction to this world, where he felt himself already +native, to have those first directions pointed out with a bare blade. + +The girl, seeing his scowl, laughed gently and came forward to take his +arm. She gestured Gerd away with her other hand, and he smiled grimly +and stood back. The girl fluttered her wings a little and made a +swooping gesture of her hand to indicate flight. She pointed to the +valley. Then she stepped away to the brow of the hill, unfolded her +wings, tested the dying wind with them, and leaned forward with sublime +confidence into the void. + +The updraft caught her beneath the pinions and bore her aloft on a +beautiful sweep, her pale hair blowing like a banner. In midair she +twisted to beckon, and Kern laughed in sheer delight and ran to follow +her, spreading his dark wings so that at the fourth stride, with a leap, +suddenly he was airborne. It was a glorious feeling to fly without shame +or need of concealment. He scarcely heard the beat of wings behind him +as the hunchback took to the air in their wake. The joy of flying in +company was great enough just now to shut out all other thoughts from +Kern’s mind. + +They swept high along the slow-running river of wind over a winding +valley. Kern, watching for the companions with whom he had entered this +wonderful world, saw no motion at all among the trees they soared over. +He caught sight presently of a cluster of roofs far ahead, at the top of +the valley, built around a stream that wound to and fro among the +houses, and was filled with excited speculation as they neared the +village. + +My people, he thought. My own people. What kind of a town will it be, +and what sort of culture? How fast can I learn the language? There’s so +much to find out. + +The thought broke in his mind. For something—he had no name for it—was +stirring very strangely through his body. + +For an instant the whole airy world went blind around him. It was as if +a new pair of lungs had opened up within him and he had drawn a deep, +full breath of such air as no human ever tasted before. It was as if new +eyes had opened in his head and he had looked on a new dimension with +multiple sight. It was like neither of these, nor was it like anything a +man ever experienced before. New, new, inexpressibly new! + +And it was gone. + +In flight Kern staggered a little, his wings forgetting to beat the +sustaining air. The thing had come and gone so quickly, and yet it was +not a wholly unfamiliar thing, after all. Once before something like it +had happened. Something, different, but at the time heart-breakingly +new. It was when he first felt the wings thrust out upon his shoulders. +When he first felt the change within himself that cut him off from +mankind. + +“Am I changing again?” he asked himself fiercely. “Isn’t the mutation +over yet? I won’t change! I belong here now—I won’t let anything spoil +that!” + +The feeling was gone. He could not remember even now what it had been +actually like. He would not change! He would fight change while breath +remained in him. Whatever strange new mutation struggled now for being +in his mysterious flesh he would strangle before he let it come between +him and these people with wings. + +It had gone, now. He would forget it. It should be as if it had never +happened. + + + + + CHAPTER III + + _Gathering Danger_ + + +Sunlight winked from the diamond-paned windows of the village. They +circled above the rooftops and came in against the wind for a landing on +the high, flat roof of the central building, its open square paved with +tiles painted in bright, crude pictures of flying men and women. + +From above Kern could see the cobbled streets winding narrowly past +overhanging eaves, little stone bridges arching the stream that gushed +rapidly down through the village. Flowers were bright in narrow, ordered +bands around the houses. There were steep streets that rose in steps +around the curves of the hill upon which the town was based. + +The roofs were steeply pitched, arguing a heavy snowfall in winter, but +each of them had a landing area on the highest part of the house, +usually facing a low door let into a gable. And Kern’s last doubt +departed. This was indeed a village of flying people. He had come into +his own world at last. + +His content lasted about five minutes. + +Then they came down upon the brightly tiled landing-roof of what was +probably the townhall, and Kern, already fluttering his wings for a +landing, saw something that made him instinctively tighten the +chest-muscles that controlled his wings so that they stiffened into +broad pinions again. He soared and made a second circle about the +rooftop. + +The girl had reversed herself and was reaching with one foot for a +landing when she saw what had startled him. She laughed and looked up, +beckoning through the cloud of her settling hair. + +Kern made a third circle, fighting the updraft among the houses while he +looked down dubiously at the two dead men sprawled upon the roof. Both +were young and both were winged. The girl walked delicately by them as +if they were not there, settling her wings precisely. She stepped over +the pool of blood, still liquid, that ran from a wound in the nearer +man’s neck, streaked across the width of his quiet pinion, and that +puddled the brilliant tiles with a color of even brighter hue. + +There was a measured beating of the air above Kern, and he looked up to +see the hunchback hovering on silky red wings above him. Sunlight +flashed on a bared knife-blade. Gerd gestured down. And there was +something about his poise in the air, the way he handled his muscular, +twisted body, that warned Kern not to precipitate a struggle. It +occurred to him for the first time that fighting in midair must be an +art requiring skills he had never learned—yet. + +Gingerly he circled again and came down very lightly at the edge of the +roof, holding his wings half-open until he was sure of his footing. The +girl was waiting for him. She smiled, her blue glance flicking the dead +men. Then she slapped her own dagger significantly, glanced at the +bodies and back at Kern, and with a careless beckoning motion turned to +enter the roof door. + +A little dazed, Kern followed. Did she mean she herself had killed them? +What extraordinary sort of culture had he found ready-made for him here? +The first doubts stirring in his mind, he stooped his wings under the +door-frame and groped down a narrow, curving stairway behind the +floating hair of his guide. Behind him he heard Gerd’s feet thump +uncompromisingly from step to step. + +Voices came up the stair-well as they descended. At the bottom of the +flight Kern followed the girl into a big stone-paved room, +low-ceilinged, smoky from the fire that blazed in a huge cavern of +whitewashed brick at one end of the roof. + +The room was full of the living and the dead. Bewildered. Kern glanced +about at the winged bodies which had obviously been dragged carelessly +out of the center of the room and heaped against the walls. Blood lay in +coagulating pools here and there on the flags. The men about the +fireplace seemed to be debating something in loud voices. They looked up +sharply as the girl entered. Then there was a clattering rush and a +clamor of guttural voices as they hurried to greet her. + +Kern made out one word among their sentences that seemed to be her name. + +“Elje—Elje!” + +Their voices echoed under the low ceiling, their wings made a rustle and +soft clatter as they shouldered together around her. If it had not been +for the unconsidered dead at their feet, Kern would have been happy +without reservation, knowing at last beyond any doubt that this was a +world of the winged. + +They were talking about him, obviously. Elje, braiding her disordered +hair, spoke rapidly and glanced from Kern to her companions and back +again. Kern did not wholly like the looks of the men. Without wings, +they would have seemed an undisciplined, violent group. Their faces were +scarred and weather-beaten. All of them wore knives, and they had +clearly been in a hard fight within the last few hours. + +Among the dead on the floor there were men without wings. There were +also, he saw now, a few women, some winged, some not. Two races? Somehow +he surmised that was not true; there was a subtle likeness among them +all, the wingless and the winged, that marked them of the same racial +stock. + +Presently he began to notice that the unwinged were all either elderly +or adolescent. He remembered that his own wings had not begun to grow +until he was past eighteen. Was it only in their prime that this race +could fly? And would he, with advancing years, lose again this glorious +attribute he had only now begun to enjoy? + + * * * * * + +The thought damped that surge of exultation which still flooded his mind +beneath the surface bewilderment. And then he grinned wryly to himself, +thinking: + +“Maybe it won’t happen. Maybe I won’t live that long!” + +For the looks of the grim men around him were not encouraging. If he had +guessed right about a universal language in this world, it was not +strange that his ignorance of it gave them room for suspicion. And in a +village where life was held as cheaply as it was held here, he could +probably expect direct and violent reactions to suspicion. + +He was not far wrong. The men spoke among themselves in brawling voices +a moment or two longer, the girl Elje braiding her hair carelessly and +putting in a word now and then. While Kern stood there, debating with +himself what was best to do, the argument came to a swift climax. Elje +called something in a clear voice and, directly behind him, Kern heard a +guttural monosyllable in answer, and the rustle of wings, and felt +something cold and edged laid against the side of his neck. + +He stood quite still. Then the hunchback, Gerd, sidled around into his +view, holding the sharp knife with a steady hand against Kern’s jugular. +The pale eyes in the dark young face were steady and full of cold +threat. + +Someone moved across the flagstones behind him and Kern felt hands draw +his wrists together, felt the roughness of rope pulled tight around +them. He did not protest. He was too surprised, and too unaccustomed to +violence in his daily life, to know just now what course he should take. +And he was filled still with the thought that these were his own people. + +A something heavy and clinging fell suddenly across his wings. He jumped +and looked back. It was a net, which a man with a scarred face and +suspicious, squinting eyes was rapidly knotting together at the base of +his pinions. + +The hunchback grunted another monosyllable and drove the point of his +knife against Kern’s shoulder, jerking his red head toward a flight of +stairs across the room. The winged men drew back to let the two pass, +silent now and watching with impassive faces. Elje, finishing the last +of the second braid, tossed the pale silken rope of it across her +shoulder and would not meet Kern’s eyes as he went by. + +The stairs twisted unevenly through narrow stone walls. At the third +level the hunchback threw open a heavy, low door and followed Kern into +the room beyond. It was rather a pleasant little place, circular, with +tile-banded walls and a tiled floor. The single window was barred and +looked out over rooftops and distant hills. There was a low bed, a +table, two chairs, nothing more. + +The hunchback pushed Kern roughly toward one of the chairs. Both of +them, Kern noticed, had low backs to clear the wings of those who might +sit in them. He sank down and looked at the red-winged man expectantly. +What happened then was the last thing, perhaps, that he might have +expected to hear. + +Gerd held out his dagger, level across his palm, pointed to it with the +other hand and growled, “_Kaj_.” He slapped his sheath then, said, +“_Kajen_,” and dropped the dagger into it. His pale eyes bored into +Kern’s. + +Unexpectedly, Kern heard himself laughing. Partly it was relief, for he +would not have been surprised to feel the edge of that knife called +_kaj_ sink into his throat once the door had closed behind them. + +Instead, apparently this was to be a lesson in language.... + +Once, in the night, he awoke briefly. Strange stars were shining through +the bars of his window. He thought there was someone stealthily looking +at him from beyond the bars, and sleepily realized that it would take as +great skill to fly in silence as to walk without noise. But he saw no +one. He slept again and dreamed it was Elje at the window, touching the +bars with light fingertips as she smiled in at him in the starlight, her +face dabbled with blood. + +For two weeks he saw no one but Gerd. The pale eyes in the dark face +became very familiar to him, and gradually the deep voice became +familiar and understandable too. Gerd was a patient and indefatigable +teacher, and the language was a simple one, made for a simple culture. +Indeed, Kern learned it so rapidly that he began to catch Gerd’s +suspicious sidelong glances, and once, from his door, overheard a +conversation on the stair outside when Gerd and Elje met. + +“I think he may be a spy,” the hunchback’s deep guttural said. + +Elje laughed. “A spy who doesn’t speak our language?” + +“He learns it too readily. I wonder, Elje—The Mountain is cunning.” + +“Hush,” was all she answered. But Kern thereafter was careful to pretend +he knew less of the language than he really did. + +The Mountain. He thought of that in the long hours when he was alone. A +mountain, strange of shape, the color of clouds, towering halfway up the +heavens. It was more than inert matter, if these winged people spoke of +it with that hush in their voices. + +For a fortnight he waited and listened and learned. Once more, in the +night, with the nameless stars looking in at the window, he felt that +inexplicable stirring of, alien life deep within him, and was +frightened. It passed quickly, and was gone too fast for him to put any +name to it, or to remember it clearly afterward. Mutation? Continuing +change, in some unguessable form? He would not think of it. + + * * * * * + +On the fourteenth night, the Dream came. + +He had not thought very much about Bruce Hallam. Kua and the others. +Subconsciously, he did not want to. This was his world and the other +mutants were actually intruders, false notes in the harmony. Danger he +might find here, even death, but it was a winged world, and his own. + +There were dreams at night. Voices whispering, whose tones he +half-recognized and would not allow himself to remember when he awoke. +Something was searching for his soul. + +Before that final contact on the fourteenth night, he had eavesdropped +enough on other conversations held on the stairs between Gerd and Elje +to understand a little of what went on around him. + +Gerd was urging that they leave the town and return somewhere, and Elje +was adamant. + +“There’s no danger yet.” + +“There is danger whenever we’re away from the eyrie. Not even the +Mountain can guide enemies through the poison winds. Our safety has +always been a quick raid, Elje, and then back to the eyrie. But to stay +here, gorging ourselves—in a _town_—is madness.” + +“I like the comfort here,” Elje said naively. “It’s been a long time +since I’ve eaten and drunk so well, and slept on such a bed.” + +“You’ll sleep on a harder bed soon, then,” Gerd said dourly. “The towns +will gather. They must know already that we’re here.” + +“Are we afraid of the townsmen?” + +“When the Mountain walks—” the hunchback said, and left the sentence +unfinished. + +Elje’s laughter rang false. + +That night, Kern felt seeking fingers try again the doors of his mind, +and this time his subconscious resistance could not keep them out. He +recognized the mind behind that seeking—the infinitely sad, infinitely +wise mind of the mutant Byrna, with the lovely voice and the pale, +unlovely face. + +For a moment he floundered, lost in the depths of that intelligence so +much more fathomless than his own. For a moment timeless sorrow washed +him like the waters of the sea. Then he found himself again, and was +looking, somehow, through new and different eyes, into a grassy hollow +filled with starlight. Into Kua’s beautiful honey-colored face and her +great single eye. Into Sam Brewster’s veiled gaze. + +Dimly he groped for Bruce Hallam, who had opened the door for them all. +Bruce was missing. And as for Byrna—it was Byrna’s eyes through which +he saw them. Her mind, gripping his like the clasp of hands, cupping his +like a bowl of still water. Soundlessly through space came a voice. +Kua’s voice. + +“Byrna, have you found him?” + +“I think—yes. Kern! Kern!” + +Without words, he answered them. + +“Yes, Kua. Yes, Byrna. I’m here.” + +There was resentment in Kua’s voice—the voice of her mind, for no words +were spoken in this curious seance. Kern found time to wonder briefly if +Byrna had always possessed this strange ability to bridge distances, or +if it had burgeoned in her here as something struggled in himself for +new being. + +“We’ve been trying a long time, Kern,” Kua said coldly. “You were hard +to reach.” + +“I—I wasn’t sure you’d be here any longer.” + +“You thought we’d have gone on to other worlds. Well, we would have, if +we could. But Bruce was hurt. In the storm.” + +“Badly?” + +She hesitated. “We—can’t be sure. Look.” + +Through Byrna’s eyes Kern saw Bruce Hallam’s motionless figure, lying +silent on a bed of boughs. He looked oddly pale, almost ivory in color. +His breathing was nearly imperceptible. And Byrna’s mind, groping +through the void for his, found only a strange, dim spinning—something +too far away and too abstract for the normal mind to grasp. She touched +it briefly—and it spun out of contact and was gone. + +“A trance?” Kua said. “We don’t know, yet. But we’ve used Byrna’s vision +and learned a little about this world. How much do you know, Kern?” + +Kern told them then, with Byrna’s tongue, too absorbed in the needs of +the moment to realize fully what a strange meeting this was of more than +human minds, over unguessed distances of alien land. He told them what +he knew, what he had guessed from overheard conversations—not much, but +a general picture. + +“The planet’s mostly ocean. A small continent, about the size of +Australia, I think. City-states all over it. Elje’s band are outlaws. +They have a hideout somewhere, and they raid the towns. They seem—well, +scornful of the townspeople, and a little afraid, too. I can’t quite +understand that.” + +“This—Gerd? He spoke of a Mountain?” Kua said. + +“Yes. Something about—when the Mountain walks.” + +“You know the Mountain,” Kua said. “The storm came from there. Those +vortices of light and energy rose out of it.” + + * * * * * + +Kern remembered the spindles of blinding brilliance that strode across +the land in the maelstrom of the winds. “We don’t understand much of it +yet,” Kua was saying in a troubled tone. “We know there’s danger +connected with that Mountain. I think there is life there, something we +don’t know about. Something that probably couldn’t have developed on +Earth. The conditions could have been too alien. But here anything is +possible.” + +Kern felt the thought forming in his brain—in Byrna’s brain. + +“Life? Intelligent life? What do you know about it?” + +“Maybe not life as we understand the word. Call it a—force. No, it’s +more tangible than that. I don’t know—” The thought-voice of Kua +faltered. “Dangerous. We may learn more of it, if we live. This much +we’ve seen, though, through Byrna’s vision, and mine. We’ve sensed +forces reaching out from the Mountain, into the minds of men. The minds +of the winged townspeople. Assembling them for war.” She hesitated. +“Kern, do you know they’re on their way now, to your town, where the +outlaws are?” + +He was instantly alert. + +“Now? From where? How soon can they get here?” + +“I’m not sure. They aren’t in my sight yet—over the horizon, that is. +Byrna, tell him.” + +The mind that held Kern’s stirred, and through it he saw as through a +haze rank upon rank of winged beings flying with steady beasts of their +pinions over a dark night-time terrain. Byrna’s thought murmured, + +“You see, I can’t tell how far. It’s new, this clairvoyance since we +came from Earth. I could always see but not so clearly, and I never +could show others what was in my mind. So I only know these men are +flying against your village.” + +“And the force of men—the Mountain, I think, has armed them somehow,” +Kua put in. “Byrna has seen the weapons they carry. You’d better warn +your friends—your jailers or whatever they are. Otherwise you may be +caught in the middle of a fight.” + +“I will.” Kern’s mind was full now of something new. “You say you’ve +developed this clairvoyance since the time when you came here, Byrna. +Has it happened to the others, too?” + +“To me, maybe, a little,” Kua said slowly. “A sharpening of focus, not +much more than that. To Sam—” Her thought form glanced sidewise to Sam +Brewster, sitting silent, with the hood of his secondary lids drawn over +his terrible eyes, “—I think nothing’s happened. He can’t join our talk +now, you see. Byrna’s mind can’t reach into his at all. We’ll have to +tell him all that’s been said, later. And Bruce.” She shrugged. “Perhaps +the winged people will tell you how we can help him. The edge of one of +the vortices caught him, and he’s been like this ever since. We’d hoped +to go on, you know, Kern, to find our own worlds as you—perhaps—have +found yours. But without Bruce, we’re helpless.” + +Kern was aware of a tightening and strengthening of his own mind as a +problem at last came before him that must be met. Until now he had been +almost in a trance of wonder and delight and dismay at the new things of +this new, winged world. But the time for lassitude was over. He gathered +his thoughts for speech, but Kua’s voice cut his beginning phrases +short. + +“Kern, there’s danger in the Mountain. The—thing—whatever it is, knows +we’re here. It lives in the Mountain, or perhaps it _is_ the Mountain. +But Byrna has sensed hatred from it. Malevolence.” + +There was a sudden harshness to her thought. + +“Kern, you’re a soft fool!” Kua said. “Did you think you could reach +Paradise without earning it? Whether you help us or not, you’ve got to +face danger before you’ll find your place in this world, or any other. I +don’t think you can manage without us. And we need your help, too. +Together, we may still lose the battle. Separately, there’s no hope for +any of us. We _know_! The Mountain may be a mutation as far beyond us as +we are beyond the animals. But we’ve got to fight.” + +Her voice blurred suddenly, faded to a thin drone. The starlit hill and +the faces before him swirled and melted in Kern’s sleeping sight. He +struggled for a moment against intangible danger—something formless and +full of strong malevolence. He saw—what was it? A vast, coiling +Something like a ribbon of fire, moving lazily in darkness and aware of +him—terribly aware. + +Far off in the void he felt the quiver of fright in a mind he +knew—Byrna’s mind. But he lost the contact instantly, and then someone +was shaking him by the shoulder and saying something in insistent, +guttural tones. + +He opened his eyes. + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + _Evil Mountain_ + + +In his vision, the coiling flame had left so brilliant an image upon his +eyelids that for an instant he could see nothing but the blue-green scar +of after-sight swimming upon his vision. Then that faded and he was +staring up into Gerd’s darkly handsome young face. + +Kern struggled to sit up, beating his wings a little to help him rise. +The gust stirred Kern’s red hair and sent motes dancing in the beam of +sunlight falling across the bed. Kern in the aftermath of amazement and +terror forgot to dissemble his knowledge of the winged men’s tongue. The +simple syllables raced off his lips. + +“Gerd, Gerd, you’ve got to listen to me! I’ve been finding out things I +didn’t suspect until now. Let me up. The townspeople are coming!” + +Gerd put a hard palm against his chest. + +“Not so fast. You seem to have learned our language in your sleep. No, +stay there.” His voice rose. “Elje!” + +She was a moment or two in coming, and Gerd stood back with his hand on +his dagger and his pale, suspicious eyes unswerving as he watched Kern. +When Elje came, bright-faced in the morning sun, her ashen braids wound +in a coronet that glistened against the high arch of her wings, he spoke +without taking his eyes from Kern. + +“Our guest awoke this morning with a strangely fluent knowledge of +speech. I told you before of the danger from spies, Elje.” + +“All right, I do know more of your language than I pretended,” Kern +admitted. “I just learned it faster than you believed, that’s all. That +doesn’t matter now. Do you know the townspeople are coming to attack?” + +Gerd bent forward swiftly, half-open wings hovering above him in the +sunlight. + +“How do you know that? You _are_ a spy!” + +“Let him talk, Gerd,” Elje said. “Let him talk.” + +Kern talked.... + +In the end, he could see that they did not yet fully trust him. It was +not surprising, for the tale would have bewildered anyone. But the +prospect of an advancing army was enough to divide their thoughts. + +“If I were a spy, would I warn you they were coming?” Kern demanded, +seeing their dubious glances fixed on him at the end of his story. + +“It isn’t the army you’d be spying for,” Gerd said reluctantly. + +“Your other world—Earth,” Elje murmured, her eyes searching Kern’s. “If +that were true, it could explain some things. But we know of no other +worlds.” + +Briefly Kern thought that it might be easier for one of Elje’s culture +to believe in the existence of other worlds than for a denizen of some +more sophisticated civilization. The people of this winged race had not +yet closed their minds to all they could not see. It was not a race so +sure of its own omnipotence that it denied all unfamiliar things +existence. + +“How could I hurt you now?” Kern said. “Why should I warn you, if I were +on their side?” + +“It’s the Mountain,” Elje said surprisingly. “Why do you suppose we kept +you here in this bare room, without furnishings, without anything you +could build into a weapon? Or do you know?” + +Bewildered, he shook his head. + +“We were not sure if you were a slave to the Mountain. If you were, a +coil of wire, a bit of iron—anything—would have been dangerous to us +in your hands.” Her eyes were questioning. + +Again Kern shook his head. Gerd began to speak, his voice faintly +derisive. + +“A long story and an evil one. Perhaps you know it. At any rate, we’re +the only free people in this world. Oh, there may be a few others, but +not many, and they don’t live long. The Mountain is jealous of its +slaves. Aside from our group, all the rest of mankind belongs to the +Mountain. All!” + +“This Mountain?” Kern said. “What is it?” + +Gerd shrugged his red wings. + +“Who knows? Demon—god. If we ever had a history, no one knows it now. +No legend goes back beyond the coming of the Mountain. We only know that +it has always been there, and from it, whispers float out to men in +their sleep, and they become slaves to the whisper. Something happens in +their minds. For the most part they live as they choose, in their +cities. But sometimes that voice comes again, and then they’re mindless, +doing as the Mountain bids them.” + +“We don’t know what the Mountain is,” Elje said. “But we know that it’s +intelligent. It can guide men’s hands to make weapons, when there’s a +need for weapons. And it can send out storms, such as the one in which +we found you. Not for a long, long while has there been a storm out of +the Mountain. If you’re not a spy, how do you explain the fact that your +coming and the storm happened in the same hour?” + + * * * * * + +He shrugged. About that, he also was puzzled. + +“I wish I knew. But I’ll find out, if any human can. Do you mean the +army that’s coming against you is sent by the Mountain? Why?” + +“As long as we remain free, the Mountain will try to enslave us,” Elje +said. “And we’ll fight the townsmen for the things we need, since we +don’t dare fight the Mountain. We’ve stayed too long in this +village—yes, Gerd, I know! We’ll return to the eyrie now. If an army of +the townsfolk is coming, they’ll have weapons the Mountain made them +build, and the weapons will be dangerous, whatever they may be this +time.” + +“The prisoner may know all this already,” Gerd said dourly. “That +doesn’t matter. But it will matter if we take him to the eyrie. He could +lead our enemies there, Elje.” + +“Through the poison winds?” But Elje drew in her lower lip thoughtfully. +“He tells a mad story, Gerd. I know that. Could it be true?” + +“Well, what then?” + +“These companions he spoke of. They sound like gods. And they talked of +fighting against the Mountain.” + +“Fight against the stars,” Gerd said and laughed. “But not the Mountain. +Not even gods could win such a war.” + +“They aren’t gods,” Kern said. “But they have powers none of us know. I +think our coming marks a turning place in the history of your race, +Elje—Gerd. You can kill us or abandon us and go on as you always have, +or you can believe me and help us, and fight this time with a chance of +winning. Will you do it?” + +Elje was silent for a moment. Then she laughed and stood up suddenly +with a flutter of her wings. + +“I’ll go along with you and talk to your friends,” she said. “If they’re +as you say—yes, Kern, I’ll believe you. For the Mountain never has +changed human flesh. It can touch our minds, but not our bodies. I think +in the beginning were men whose brains had some weakness that let the +whisper come in, and those men were armed by the Mountain and killed +their fellows, until only we outlaws remained. + +“Our minds over the generations have been bred to resist invasion as the +townspeople were bred to welcome it. I think—I know—if the Mountain +could reach into our bodies and make that tiny change that would open +our mind to it, then it would win. But it can’t. It can’t alter our +bodies except by killing us. If I see with my own eyes these companions +of Kern’s, I’ll know there is a power greater than the Mountain. And +we’ll fight together, Kern!” + +A little later, floating high above the nest of hills which cradled the +village, Kern rocked on spread wings and pressed his eyes tightly shut, +thinking with all the strength of his mind: + +“Byrna, Byrna! Answer me, Byrna! Help me find you. Byrna, do you hear?” + +Silence, except for the small noises drifting up from far below, distant +shouts as Elje’s winged band collected in haste the loot they would take +with them to their eyrie. Kern’s vision swam with the flecked clouds of +sunlight on closed lids. Deliberately he blanked his mind to receive an +answer. None came. + +“Byrna! There may not be time to waste. Byrna, Kua, answer me!” + +In his eagerness and impatience he remembered again what he had glimpsed +dimly through Byrna’s memory, the ranks of armed fliers moving through +the night on steadily beating wings toward the village. Perhaps from so +far away they would not arrive for many hours—perhaps so near that the +cloud on the horizon now was not mist, but armed men.... + +“Byrna! Do you hear me?” + +“_Kern!_” The answer he sought came with sharp impact, like a blow in +the face. As if she were almost at his side and speaking with dreadful +violence. He caught terror in the contact of minds, cold, controlled +terror that chilled him so the sunny air turned suddenly icy around him. +He knew instantly that she had heard him before, had been hedging for +just the right contact so that there need be no wasted moments of +groping and finding focus upon one another. He caught the hard impact +and the terror and the urgency in the moment their minds met. Then her +thoughts tumbled into his mind: + +“Kern! Hurry! No time to waste. Do you see the grove of blooming trees +left on the horizon? Come! Make new contact there.” + +She blanked as suddenly as she had entered his mind. And because +thoughts are so infinitely more rapid than words she had conveyed those +four ideas—identification, haste, locality and a promise of future +contact—in almost no lapse of time at all. But in that brief instant +while their minds did meet, something happened. + +Kern rocked on shaken wings as if a blow had jolted him. He snatched his +mind back from the brief touch with Byrna’s quickly, quickly, scorched +with the incandescent hatred that had blazed in the void between them. +For the coiled ribbon of fire which had swum so strangely through +nothingness when he woke from his clairvoyant dream was awake and alive +now, and terribly avid. + + * * * * * + +It had been waiting, he knew in the instant while his mind leaped back +in recoil from that burning contact. It had found them as he waked +slowly from the long, leisured conversation in the seance. + +Since that moment it had lain, coiled, in waiting. _It?_ + +Folding his wings, he dropped forward in a long, breathtaking dive, the +air screaming past his ears. From a tiled rooftop far below, he saw two +figures rise, one on pale wings, one on glossy red. He spread his own +pinions then, exulting in the strain on his chest-muscles when the broad +surfaces checked his dive, bore him up in a steep arc that made the air +feel warm and solid as he carved a long curve through it. + +“That way,” he told Elje, pointing, when she rose within hearing. “We’ll +have to hurry. There’s something wrong. I think perhaps the Mountain, or +Something in the Mountain, knows we’re here.” + +Elje’s clear bright color blanched in the sunlight. Behind her, Gerd’s +eyes flashed sideward in the dark face, suspicious, mistrusting still. + +“Why do you say that?” + +Kern told them as they flew, the grove of blossoming trees on the +horizon seeming to slip rapidly down the edge of the skyline and draw +nearer far below. It was not easy to talk and fly. Kern’s breath began +to come fast, and his chest and wings ached with the speed, after so +many days of inactivity. When he finished speaking there was silence. + +“The eyrie lies that way,” Elje said presently, in a controlled voice. +She pointed right with a smooth bare arm. “I’ve sent most of the men on +with our loot. Gerd chose twenty to follow us. You don’t know where or +how far the Mountain’s men are?” + +Kern shook his head. “Maybe I can find out at the next meeting with +Byrna.” + +He glanced behind them and saw the little band of Elje’s bodyguard +flying a few minutes in their rear, big men all of them, with stolid, +hard-eyed faces. Several carried light wicker squares looped up with +straps. + +“Seats for your friends, Kern,” Elje explained. “We need them when we +carry our young people or our old ones, who no longer have the power to +fly.” Her face darkened, as Kern knew their faces always did when the +winged people thought of the days in which they would no longer travel +the lanes of air. + +It occurred to him then that their battles might be ferocious things, +fought by men as fanatic in their own way as those who fought on Earth +for entry into an imagined paradise. For these men fought their own old +age as surely as they fought an enemy. No one who has once spread wings +upon the air-currents willingly faces a life without wings. + +The blooming grove was beneath them now. + +“If you make contact this time with—it—again, Kern, I think _it_ will +know more easily where to direct its men,” Elje said. “There is great +danger. Will you let this meeting with your friends go for awhile? You +may be doing them harm as well as us. The army of the Mountain may be +very near now.” + +Kern hesitated. He had been dreading with every wingbeat the moment when +he must open his mind again to that coiled and scorching malevolence. +For an instant he toyed with the idea of postponing searching for +Byrna’s mind, but he knew it would only mean putting off the inevitable. +Grimly he shook his head. + +“Byrna!” he called out mentally. “Byrna, what next?” + +As before, for long moments there was no answer. Then briefly, like a +gasp, he caught the touch of Byrna’s mind—only briefly and very +incoherently, because between them in the instant of contact flashed the +blinding hatred of the—the interloper. Only when their minds touched, +apparently, could the white-hot malevolence reach them, but it lay +ambushed and ready, and this time it seemed to flare out between them +almost before Byrna’s voice could speak. + +Reeling back, shaken and stunned by the thing between them, Kern caught +only a ragged thought or two from Byrna’s mind. + +“Three hills—hurry—army!” + +That was all that got through. For an instant the void flamed with the +blankness of sheer hatred. Then Kern opened his eyes and caught himself +on reeling wings. Elje and Gerd watched him without speaking as he +controlled his shaken faculties with a great effort. Elje was white with +terror, but on Gerd’s face suspicion was still predominant. + +Three hills in a shadowy row cut the horizon line. Kern gestured toward +them and in silence the little group flew on. If Byrna’s gasp of +“—army—” meant the enemy were nearly upon them, there was nothing to +do except fly as they had been flying, in the hope of reaching the +mutants before disaster overtook them all. + + + + + CHAPTER V + + _Pursuit_ + + +The three hills were not quite below them, and Kern was watching the +skyline anxiously for signs of the winged army which was moving against +them, when something from below flashed across his eyes. He blinked and +looked down. From a clump of trees the light-beam flashed again, +dazzlingly, from a tiny point of brilliance. Then a small figure stepped +out from the shelter of the branches, waving at him. + +It was Kua. Even from this height he could see the reflected light in +twin points on the sun-glasses she held in one hand. She had signalled +him by the heliograph with the only thing they had for reflecting light. + +Pointing downward, he let one wing tilt high and came about in a long +glide, lying at full length upon the air with his heels higher than his +head. The ground swung, like water in a cup and Kua seemed to rush +upward to meet him as the swift dive cut the space between them. + +The others were with her by the time Kern had put his feet to the grass. +He was conscious, as always, of a little shock of memory renewed when he +met again Kua’s great single gaze from the center of her forehead. +Byrna, hurrying to meet him, lifted a pale, drawn little face. + +“Kern!” she cried in a voice that was pure music. And he thought there +was in her eyes, and in Kua’s, a subtle something that was new to him. +Mutation had gone on, perhaps, with them as with him, a step beyond +Earthly mutation. Their powers were strengthened, so that, in part, they +both were strangers to him. + +Sam Brewster came out smiling and extending his hand, and Kern took it +with the little inward quailing he had always felt before Sam, the +instinctive averting of his gaze from Sam’s veiled eyes. Beyond Sam’s +shoulder he saw Bruce Hallam lying motionless, as if he had not stirred +since they laid him on the pallet of boughs. His face was ivory-hard and +as withdrawn from living as the face of a statue that had never known +life. + +Everything was confused for a few moments. Byrna was crying, “Hurry, +hurry!” and Kua’s distance-piercing glance kept sweeping the horizon as +the winged people swooped to the ground behind Kern and came forward +swiftly, wings half open to speed their hurrying feet. + +Kern heard Elje’s little gasp of incredulity and dismay when Kua’s blue +central eye turned upon the newcomers, but the winged girl was too good +a commander to waste time after that first glance which confirmed what +Kern had told her. + +In a matter of seconds they were in the air. + +Bruce Hallam, still motionless in his mysterious slumber, had been swung +on a wicker carrier between two burly fliers. The other three mutants, +in their seats between winged bearers, scarcely had time for amazement +or uncertainty as they were wafted aloft. + +Kern, flying with the rest over the rolling hilltops with the vast glass +cloud of the Mountain shadowing the horizon, timed his flight to the +pace of the slowest so that he might talk in midair with the wingless +people in the carriers. And close beside him Elje and Gerd hovered, +watching almost jealously every expression on the faces of the speakers. + +“What do they say, Kern?” Elje asked breathlessly, timing her words to +the rhythm of her wings. “Are—are you sure these people are human? I +never saw such—such—creatures. Gerd, after all could they be gods?” + +Gerd laughed shortly, but there was uneasiness in his voice. + +“Let them talk. Is the enemy near yet? Ask them, Kern.” + +“Near, I think,” Byrna said. She was clutching the straps of her swaying +chair with both tiny hands and her incredibly musical voice might have +been crooning a song instead of shaping the syllables of terror which +echoed the look in her eyes. “Kern, I don’t dare—look—for them any +more! You saw what happened! Kern, tell me what it was _you_ saw.” + +“I? Fire, I think. A coiling ribbon of it—and hate. I could almost see +the hate!” + +“The Mountain,” Byrna said, her eyes turning automatically toward the +great cloud hanging ominously in the sky. “What do you know about it, +Kern? Have these people told you?” + +Briefly he gave her the story Elje had recounted. + +“It has never yet been able to change people physically, or there +wouldn’t be any outlaws left,” he finished. “At least, so Elje thinks. +Byrna, I wonder if it could change us? We’re malleable—abnormally +malleable. I—” + +He hesitated. Not even to Byrna did he yet want to speak of the deep, +mysterious stirrings he had felt in his own flesh. + +“You think you and Kua may have felt something like a changing in +yourselves?” + +Byrna nodded, her eyes wide and distressed. “We can’t tell how much, +yet. Maybe the Mountain is the cause of it.” + +Unexpectedly Sam Brewster, swinging between his carriers above Byrna, +leaned forward. + +“The Mountain’s where the answer is, Kern. I don’t think we’ll be safe +until we’ve explored it.” + +“Safe!” Kern said grimly. “If you’d seen what I have, you’d never talk +that way.” + +“It won’t matter,” Kua called from a little way ahead, twisting in her +seat to send a piercing blue gaze back at them. “Look! They’re coming!” + + * * * * * + +Kern’s sharp exclamation as he banked swiftly and turned to follow her +pointing finger was explanation enough to Elje and Gerd what was +happening. A shiver of excitement ran through the whole flying group, a +tightening of muscle and mind. For an instant their pace slackened, +simultaneously, without signal, almost as a flight of birds wheels +simultaneously at no perceptible message. + +There was nothing visible on the horizon where Kua pointed. + +“I can see the first of them—a long line,” she said. “They’re carrying +something, but I’m not sure what it is. Round things—nets of something +shining, like thin wire. Light’s flashing from it when the sun hits +them.” + +Rapidly Kern told Elje. + +“New weapons,” she said. “I expected that. I wonder—well, we’ll know +soon enough.” She beat her wings together and soared suddenly above the +group, looking down with speculative eyes. + +“We’re going too slowly. Kern.” She flashed a glance at him. “This other +friend of yours, the injured one. He’s heavy. He slows us. And he takes +two men out of the fight if we’re caught. I think—” She made an +expressive downward gesture. + +“No!” Kern said quickly. “He’s the most powerful of us all, if we can +rouse him.” + +“Well, he must be first to fall, if the need comes,” Elje said. “But +we’ll wait.” She called commands to the group flying before them, and +eight men wheeled in the air and swung back. Kern watched them slip +smoothly, without a break in their wing-beats, into the harness of the +wicker carriers, relieving those who had borne the burden this far. + +“Now, quickly!” Elje said. “The eyrie!” + +They were almost over the jagged hills where the outlaws’ refuge lay, +when the first ranks of the enemy swept over the skyline and saw them. +The fugitives had flown low, taking advantage of every line of hills and +trees for cover, and despite their burden they flew fast, their pace +nearly matching that of the pursuers because of the all-night flight the +enemy had made. + +But they had not yet reached shelter when the sound of a horn, clear and +high, fell through the sunny air, and after it, drowning out the thin, +sweet notes, the roar of angry men sighting their prey. + +Elje was very calm. + +“Gerd,” she said. “You’ll lead the way in?” + +“No!” he growled. “Let one of the captains go. I feel like a fight.” + +“Stay, then,” Elje answered. + +She called a command to a man in the front rank of her little party. +They were flying as fast as wing could carry them toward a gap between +two jagged, dark hills through which Kern could see a wilderness of +tortured rock beyond. It looked volcanic in origin, and waves of +intermittent heat and strange metallic odors drifted to them on the wind +as they approached. + +“There are poisonous currents in these hills,” Elje told Kern as they +swept forward. “Many of us died before we learned the way through them. +Now we have a shelter where no one can follow us who hasn’t a guide.” + +Abruptly she ceased to speak. Kern turned a startled glance and saw her +reel in midair, throwing back her head so that the clear line of her +throat was white and taut against the blue sky. Then, without a word, +suddenly she crumpled in full flight. An instant longer her wings +sustained her and she hung limp from the spread pinions. Then they too +folded back and she dropped like a stone. + +Time stopped for Kern. Everything stood still, the hills with their +floating vapors, the flying troupe, the breeze halted among the trees +below. He could see the first ranks of the oncoming enemy halted too and +hanging motionless in space, their shouts nothing but a buzz in his +ears. + +He saw too, very clearly, the great ovals of the weapons they carried, +and the light that whirled in intricate, thin patterns like wires of +brilliance within the ovals. He saw the cone of light reach out from the +nearest oval and touch another of the fugitive fliers. + +It had happened in an instant, and it was over. Kern dived for Elje’s +falling body almost before she had ceased to speak, swung under her, +caught her across his arms in a welter of slack wings and loosened hair. + +Gerd’s harsh voice was shouting orders above him. By the time Kern had +labored up to their level with his burden he saw the newly-appointed +guide of the winged men vanishing into the cleft between the hills, +leading two by two the harnessed pairs who carried the mutants. + +The roar of savage voices behind them filled the shaken air, and the +roar of countless wings beating in ranks as the enemy swooped upon them. +They were very near now—so near Kern could see the distorted, shouting +faces and the flash of knives in the hands of the foremost. + +It was a strange and eerie thing to realize that no human hatred burned +behind the angry faces, but the fiery, venomed malignancy which was the +Mountain. Or did this oncoming rabble know why it fought? Did they think +this fury their own emotion, not a monstrously inspired rage that turned +them to automatons? + +A cone of light swung past Kern, numbing his wing-tip, and touched a +fast-flying man in front of him between the wings. The man jolted +convulsively, arched backward and then crumpled to hang for an instant +motionless on the momentum of his own flight. The wings folded as Elje’s +had done, and the man dropped downward out of sight. + + * * * * * + +Gerd was gesturing Kern frantically on. The hunchback hovered on red +pinions recklessly in full view of the enemy, knives flashing in each +hand, ready to engage whoever came within reach of his blades. He was +shouting hoarse orders scarcely audible above the rushing thunder of the +enemies’ wings and their voices bellowing for blood. + +The last of the little band was pouring through the hill-cleft now, Kern +almost the last of all with his limp burden hanging across his arms. The +air was full of twisting vapors and he could not see very clearly as he +swept closer to the hills. It was, curiously, a nightmare sensation, +half-blindness from the poison vapors and half-deafness from the roar of +wings and voices. He could only follow the back of the man ahead, dimly +seen through the mists. Elje hung motionless in his arms, her trailing +wings fluttering a little to the measured beat of his own. + +The last thing he saw as he glanced back was Gerd poised above the cleft +to follow him in, ready to fight a rear-guard action if need be. And +then, all in one brief glance between drifts of vapor, Kern’s heart +contracted as he saw two more winged shapes beating desperately toward +him through the dimness, two men flying tandem with a harnessed burden +between them. + +It was Bruce Hallam’s bearers. And Elje had been right. Bruce’s weight +was too great for the flying men to carry fast enough. Evidently they +had been left too far behind to follow the other bearers in and had only +now made up the distance which would save them. + +Or would it save them? + +In spite of himself, Kern tilted his wings and hesitated in the air, +twisting his head to watch. He saw Gerd gesturing savagely to hurry them +in—heard the hunchback’s deep howl. + +“Drop him!” Gerd howled. “Drop him and come on!” + +But before they could obey, a cone of white fire swept silently through +the coiling fog and enveloped bearers and burden alike in a bath of +radiance. + +There was no sound, except for the all-encompassing uproar of the +pursuit. In silence the doomed fliers stiffened and glided an instant +still carrying their fatal weight between them—and then dropped. + +The three of them vanished together into the engulfing mists. + +Kern flew on with Elje. + +He labored on leaden wings through the fog. Whiffs of burning vapor +stung in his nostrils and set his pumping lungs on fire. Elje was an +almost unbearable weight in his arms. + +Coughing, choking, ready to think every wing-beat his last, he stumbled +through the air in the wake of the man before him, his only guide +through this aerial labyrinth of poison. Hot updrafts caught him and +tossed him aloft, cross-currents fetid with strangling vapors sent him +into perilous side-slips toward the jagged black peaks dangerously near. +At this speed he knew he could not survive the slightest contact with +those knife-edged rocks. + +And Bruce’s loss was a heavier burden to bear than even Elje’s dead +weight. For only Bruce could have opened the doors for the rest to +escape into worlds of their own. And upon Bruce’s uncanny skill he had +pinned his highest hopes of freeing this world from its enemy. + +Strangling, choking, muscles aching from the strain of long flight, he +reeled on in the wake of the flying outlaws. + +The end of the ordeal came without warning. One moment he was flying +blindly through the updrafts and the smoke, the next he found himself +floating in clear still air over what seemed a great lip of rock. Winged +men below gestured him down and he dropped slowly on aching wings and +let his feet touch the rock gingerly. + +Elje coughed in his arms as he shifted weight from wings to feet. +Electrified, he looked down, forgetting everything else in this new +surprise. He had been certain she was dead or dying. She opened her +eyes, looked at him blindly, and let the lashes flutter down again. But +at least she was still alive. + +The men of her band closed around them then and one of them took Elje +from his arms. Kern looked around curiously as he followed Elje’s bearer +across the rock. + +A cavern lifted its high arched entrance before them, black rock without +and within, and the lip of rock thrust out before it, black too. Above +the platform, which must have been two hundred feet across, the air was +still and no poisonous vapors swirled, but they still rose all around +the edges of the rock and leaned together high above like a tent roof +that blotted out the sky except for occasional rifts far overhead. It +was like a painter’s concept of Hades, even to the winged men with the +hard, violent faces swarming out to meet the newcomers. + +The mutants were among them. Kern told them shortly of Bruce’s loss. He +did not want to dwell on it, for it seemed a death-blow to the hopes of +the others and perhaps to his own, too, if this world was ever to be +peopled by any but automatons. + +None of the mutants spoke after he had told them. The loss was a +stunning one and Byrna’s sad, small face grew sadder and very pale, +while Kua’s great blue eye filled with tears as she turned away. Sam +Brewster muttered something under his breath and for an instant Kern saw +the veiling secondary lids twitch across his eyes, as they always +twitched when Sam was angry, in involuntary preparation to draw back. + +“Sam!” Kern said sharply. Sam grimaced and turned away too, closing the +secondary lids again. + +Inside the cavern, on a straw mattress under a stretched crimson tent, +Elje was lying. A fire burned in a crude hood of rocks, its heat cupped +in the red tent and reflected back again upon the bed. Someone was +holding a bowl of steaming liquid to her lips as Kern came up. + +Kern watched her drain it slowly. When she lay back upon the cushions +her eyes remained open and she looked around the circle of watching men +with understanding dawning in her face. Color came back into it after +awhile, and then she coughed again and sat up. + +“All right,” she said. “I’m better. What happened?” + +Kern told her. + +“Gerd?” she asked when he had finished. The men looked at one another +inquiringly. A growl of dissent went through the cavern. No one had seen +him. Someone rose on heavy wings and flapped out under the dome to +search the platform outside. Gerd was not to be found. Elje’s face +darkened. + +“We could afford to lose twenty men better than Gerd,” she said. “You +say he was last behind you, Kern? Didn’t you hear any fighting as you +came in?” + +Kern shook his head. “I couldn’t tell. I thought he was following me. +The last I saw was Bruce and his carriers going down.” + + * * * * * + +Elje bit her lip. “I’m sorry. We’ll miss him. He was one of the bravest +and most loyal of us all. He’s been with us only a year, but I’d come to +depend more on his judgment than—” She broke off. “Well, it can’t be +helped. I suppose the light-cones got him. I wonder how they work.” She +flexed her wings and tried her muscles out experimentally. “The rays +don’t seem to leave any after-effects. I suppose the fatalities are +meant to come from the fall. Well, at least we’re lucky to have got away +without any worse losses.” + +She got to her feet and shook her head tentatively, shook her wings out +and made two or three uncertain beats that nearly lifted her off the +floor. + +“I’m all right now.” She spread her hands to the blaze for it was damply +chill in the cavern. “The Mountain’s angry,” she said. “It isn’t only +our raid on the village that brought this army out against us. There was +that storm, too. Kern, I think the Mountain knows you’re here and is +trying to—to finish you. Have you any idea why?” + +Kern had, vague theories too inchoate to put into words. He shook his +head instead. Elje laughed shortly. + +“Gerd wouldn’t trust you. If he were here, he’d say it was your fault +the enemy had gathered against us. He’d say to put you out and let you +shift for yourselves, all of you. Is there any reason why I shouldn’t?” +Her voice was suddenly hard. + +Disconcerted, Kern stared at her. “If you don’t know any—” he began, +but she broke in quickly. + +“You saved my life,” she conceded, “but we’re not a sentimental people. +We can’t afford to be. If your presence here is a menace to the safety +of us all, I can’t indulge my own gratitude by putting my men in danger. +We must each contribute to the strength of the group, or perish.” She +shrugged. “You’re one extra fighting man, but what about your friends? +Have they abilities to counterbalance their being earth-bound?” + +“I think they have. This much is sure, Elje. Unless we can prevail +against the Mountain somehow, I believe we mutants at least are doomed. +Our coming has upset the balance in your world and the Mountain knows it +and intends to be rid of us. Well, we’ve lost our best man, Bruce +Hallam. With his help we might have moved openly against the Mountain. +Without him, we are greatly handicapped.” Kern grimaced wryly. +“Remember, Byrna and I have been in—call it in tune—with whatever it +is that constitutes the Mountain. We know what we’re facing. But I don’t +see any choice. It’s kill or be killed.” + +Behind him Kua’s gentle voice spoke. “Kern,” she said. He turned. Elje +turned too, and from the corner of his eye, he saw her recoil +involuntarily from the strangeness of Kua’s face. + +Kua’s wide blue eye, with depth upon depth shining in it, was staring at +the rock wall above the fireplace. Her face had a look of concentration +and withdrawal upon it, as if in all but body she were miles away. + +“Kern!” she said again. “There are men coming. Many men. I think they +are the same ones who were following us outside.” She hesitated, +glancing quickly at Elje’s face, her eye refocusing swiftly and then +going back to the solid wall. + +“Kua, you can see them?” Kern demanded. “Do you mean it? Do you know +you’re not looking through empty spaces now, Kua? You’re looking through +rock!” + +The shock of realization on Kua’s face as she turned to him was answer +enough. “I am!” she gasped. “It never—that hasn’t happened before. +Kern, it’s true that we’re changing. More than we know, until something +like this happens! But I can see them. I can see through the side of the +mountain.” + +Again she turned to stare with her fathomless gaze into distances no +human eye ever pierced before, unaided. + +“They’re coming,” she said. “Through the mists, the way we came.” + +Swiftly Kern told Elje what she had said. Elje leaned forward abruptly. + +“Through the labyrinth?” she cried. “But they can’t! No one can come +that way without a guide. They won’t get far before they’re overcome by +the gasses.” + +“They have a guide,” Kua said in a strangely gentle voice, turning her +gaze upon Elje. “Your friend. Gerd.” + + + + + CHAPTER VI + + _Betrayal_ + + +Horrified silence filled the cave for a moment when Kern ceased his +translation. Then bedlam broke out. The encircling men who had listened +so far in silence burst into violent speech, some deriding Kua’s claim, +some cursing Gerd. Elje silenced them with a sharp command. + +“I don’t believe you,” she said flatly. “Gerd wouldn’t betray us.” + +Kua shrugged. “You’d better prepare to meet them,” was all she said. + +For a moment Elje’s composure broke. “But I don’t—it can’t be Gerd! He +wouldn’t! Kern, how _can_ we meet them? They’re a hundred to our one! +This was our last refuge. If they’re coming here, all is lost!” + +“They don’t know we’re expecting them,” Kern said. “That’s our only +advantage. Make the most of it. Is there any room for ambushes along the +way?” + +Elje shook her head. “It’s almost a single-file path everywhere. And +Gerd knows it better than even I do.” Her wings drooped. Listlessly she +stared into the fire. “This is the end of all resistance to the +Mountain,” she said. “This is the day _it_ wins the fight. None of us +can come out alive. Gerd! I can’t believe it!” + +“The Mountain—you think?” Kern asked her. + +“It must be that. He passed all our tests—and we have rigid ones—but +somehow he must have been able to hide the truth from us. He’s one of +the Mountain’s slaves and, when it commanded, he had to obey.” + +“That proves it!” Kern said suddenly. “Why should the Mountain move +against you today of all days, unless it has something to fear? Gerd’s +been with you a year, you say. The Mountain could have struck any hour +of all that time. But it waited—for an emergency. And this is the +emergency. If it’s afraid of us, then maybe we’re stronger than we know. +Maybe—” + +From the mists outside the high, hollow notes of a horn broke into his +speech. Kern spun around. Voices rose in angry babble from the platform. +There was a beating of wings that made a noise almost deafening under +the dome of the cavern, and the fire flared wildly, the red canvas of +Elje’s tent flapped in the blast as the outlaws rushed to the defense of +their last refuge. Elje, shouting commands, rose with them. + +Kua and Byrna turned white faces to Kern. Sam Brewster, behind them, +looked a question. Rapidly Kern told them what had been said. + +“You’d better wait here,” he finished. “I don’t know what’s coming, but +you’ll be safer inside.” + +Sam smiled a grim and dreadful smile. “I can help,” he reminded Kern. +“I’ll come outside.” + +Together they walked to the door of the cave. There was tumult beyond, +but an orderly tumult. Ranks of the winged outlaws were hurrying aloft +to hang overhead in wait. Elje marshaled the rest with a hopeless sort +of efficiency into reserves. Before she had finished, the horn sounded +again, on a note of triumph, and the first of the enemy burst through +the fog upon them. + +“You see,” Elje said to Kern, the hopelessness clear in her voice. “They +wanted us out in the open where they could finish us quickest. They even +gave warning so we’d be waiting for them. That’s how sure they are of +us.” + +From the front of the platform a wave of the outlaw fighters, knives +flashing in their hands, rose to meet the newcomers. And from above a +second wave dived on half-closed wings. For a few moments there was a +bloody melee at the mouth of the aerial entry where the enemy poured +through. + +“We can hold them five minutes,” Elje said. “After that, we’re through.” + +Now for the first time Kern saw how the winged men fought. The hawk-dive +was the thing he thought of as he watched the fighters swoop on their +prey, saw the flash of knives held at an expert angle for the slash that +would cripple wing-muscles and send the victim hurtling helplessly to +the ground. One sweeping cut across the chest-muscles was enough to put +a man out of the fight. + +But if the intended prey saw his adversary coming, then it was a matter +of soaring and swooping for position. And Kern saw many times a winged +man, outmaneuvered by his enemy, rise on desperate wings and hurl +himself headlong into a death-like embrace, wings folded, so that the +two fell like a single plummet, each striving frantically as they +dropped twisting through the air for a blow that would cripple his +adversary and break the wing-locked grip before the ground came too +near. + +Now the gush of the enemy through the fog had become too great to stem +as they poured by the score out of their narrow entry. The fight which +had for a few minutes hovered at the mouth of the gap swept backward and +upward until the great tent of vapor over the platform was filled with +struggling men, and the air was blackened with the shadows of their +wings. + +“They aren’t using those light-cones,” Kern said. “I’ve been waiting to +dodge but none have come through yet. Why?” + +“I think because the Mountain sends out the light-beam that focuses +through the wires,” Elje told him. “That’s the way their weapons usually +work. And the Mountain can’t penetrate our mists and our rocks here. +They’ve got to fight hand-to hand—but they can do it. There are too +many of them. I—Kern, look! Is that Gerd?” + + * * * * * + +A flash of red wings and red hair showed through the melee as someone +went by on whistling wings, too fast to see clearly. Kern caught one +glimpse of a dark face and pale, fixed eyes—and thought there was grief +in the eyes and the distorted face in that one glancing look he caught +of it. + +Elje, beside him, shouted something across the platform and from its lip +another wave of men rose in the hopeless defense of their stronghold. + +“We’ll go up with the last,” Elje said quietly, glancing over her +shoulder at the men who remained. “One more wave and then—the last. +This way we’ll kill the greatest number before it’s over. Have you a +knife, Kern?” + +As she spoke a man with a dripping knife soared past them over the edge +of the platform, blood falling from a dozen wounds, face set in blind, +fanatic violence. Squarely before them they saw him falter in midair, +his gaze going past them to something in the shadow of the cave. +Abruptly then he stiffened, his chin jerked up and his wings folded back +as if they had been suddenly broken. He fell in a long slide, +momentum-borne and inert, and crashed at Elje’s very feet. + +She had her knife at his throat in a swift, lithe crouch before she saw +that no knife was necessary. Bewildered, she looked up at Kern. + +He stooped and took the wet blade from the man’s hand, wiped it on his +leather jerkin. + +“Don’t look back, Elje,” he warned her harshly. “Sam? Sam!” + +“It’s all right, Kern.” Sam Brewster’s voice had a dreadful sort of +amusement in it. “I’m not—looking.” + +Elje stared, speechless, into Kern’s face as the other mutant sauntered +up to join them in the shelter of a heap of rock at the edge of the +platform. Sam’s smile was thin and cold. The secondary lids veiled his +eyes, but a gleam in their depths glittered even through the film and +Kern looked hastily away. + +“What—what is it?” Elje faltered. “What killed this man?” + +“I did.” Sam was grinning without mirth. “Like this.” + +He turned away, face lifted, scanning the turmoil overhead where men +dived and soared on blood-dappled wings, clasped one another in deathly +embraces and hurtled earthward with knives flashing between them. At the +edge of the platform, only a dozen feet overhead, such a pair writhed in +gasping, murderous combat. As they watched, one man freed his knife-hand +and in the same motion drove the blade hilt-deep into the other’s chest! + +The killer’s wings spread and stiffened in anticipation of what was to +come, as his victim clutched convulsively at his shoulders in a last +effort to save himself. For an instant one man’s wings supported them +both. Then the dying man’s body went limp. Wings flaccid, he fell away +from the blade and went hurtling downward through the mists, twisting +and turning over while blood pumped from his chest. + +The killer paused for a moment in midair, breathing in deep gasps and +looking for another adversary. His glancing eyes crossed Sam Brewster’s. +For an instant he hung there, panting for breath, gaze locked with +Sam’s. + +The knife dropped from his loosened fingers. Eyes still wide, he heeled +over in the air stiffly. His wings broke backward and he fell after the +man he had just killed. They vanished almost together into the fog +below. + +Sam laughed grimly. When he turned the secondary lids were closed again +over his eyes. + +“I can kill anyone who catches my eyes, when they’re open,” he said. + +Elje did not understand the words, but his gesture was enough. She +caught her breath softly and looked away in sheer instinctive revulsion +from that deathly gaze. + +“Elje, we’ve got to do something,” Kern said. “Now, while we can. We’ve +got Sam. Kua and Byrna have their own powers, too. There’s no use +waiting here to be killed. If only we could get away.” + +“Where?” Elje asked somberly. “The Mountain could find us wherever we +went.” + +“We could go to the Mountain.” Kern’s voice was more confident than he +felt. “If it’s so anxious to see us dead, then it must be afraid of us. +Anyhow, that’s our only hope. Is there any way out except the way we +came here?” + +Elje gestured aloft. “Only up. And you can see how thick the vapors +are.” + +Kern glanced around the platform. There were perhaps fifty men remaining +on their feet, waiting to be thrown into the last wave of the defense. +He looked toward the cave-mouth and beckoned. Kua and Byrna hurried +across the platform toward him, their faces pale and anxious. + +“Kua,” he said. “A little while ago you found you could look through +walls. Look up. Do you think you could tell which of those vapors up +there are poisonous and which aren’t?” + +Kua’s face lifted: her single eye narrowed. For a long moment no one +spoke. + +“No, I’m not sure,” she said. “I can see a long way through to the clear +air. I can see that some of the fog flows in definite patterns, much +thicker than the rest. But what’s poison and what isn’t—no one could +tell that by looking, Kern.” + +“Is there a path through the places where the fog’s thin?” + +“Yes.” + +“We’ll have to take a chance on it, then. Maybe if it’s thin enough to +breathe, we can get through.” + + * * * * * + +Rapidly he told Elje what he hoped. “There are men enough left here to +give us a chance if we fight our way. Sam and Kua are worth enough to be +carried. I’ve never fought in the air and I wouldn’t be much help, so +I’ll carry Byrna. It’s worth trying, Elje. Better than waiting here to +be killed.” + +“Yes.” Elje’s voice was hopeless. “Better to die that way than this. All +right, Kern, we’ll go.” + +[Illustration: “Better to die that way than this,” said Elja. “All +right, Kern, we’ll go.”] + +She turned and shouted commands to the last men around her. A few +minutes later the remnant of the rebel band went soaring into the air. + +The platform fell away below. It was like plunging into a maelstrom of +shouts and cries, groans, gasps for breath, the deafening beat of many +wings. Blood rained about them, knives flashed and fell, bodies hurtled +past toward the ground. With Byrna’s light weight in his arms, Kern beat +heavily upward. Confidence had suddenly begun to glow in him, against +all reason. They would make it. He was irrationally sure of that. + +And they did. But not all of them. + +Sam Brewster was the one who fell. Almost at the last, when their +depleted band had reached nearly the dome of the vaporous tent, a flung +knife transfixed one of Sam’s bearers between the wings. He screamed, +arched backward, and fell. Someone beside him dived too late for the +reeling basket-seat in which Sam rode. The mutant pitched forward into +space and dropped without a cry. + +It would have been suicide to dive back into that maelstrom of death in +an effort to catch him. Sick at heart, Kern saw him fall twisting toward +the ground. He saw, too, how man after man of the swarm around him +stiffened and dropped after Sam on limp wings as the mutant’s lethal +gaze took his own escort of dead men around him to his death. + +Then they plunged into the choking mists overhead, and no one had time +to think of anything but his own breathing, his own urgent need to +follow exactly in the wing-path of Kua’s bearers as she guided them +through the fog. + + * * * * * + +Like a gigantic thunderhead the Mountain lifted its clear, pale bulk +into the zenith. The mind quailed from the very thought of such height; +it seemed to lean forward over the fliers and hover for a monumental +collapse that would crush the world. + +When they drew close, Byrna shuddered in Kern’s arms and turned like a +child to clasp his neck and hide her face on his shoulder. + +“I can feel it,” she said in a muffled voice. “It’s watching. It’s +trying to—to get into my mind. Don’t think, Kern. Don’t let it reach +you!” + +Kern was briefly aware of a hot, coiling ribbon of hatred that moved +through his brain and was gone as his mind slammed its gates of thought +against the intruder. It was not easy to force his wings to carry them +onward when his whole mind rebelled against drawing any nearer to the +Mountain. He saw revulsion on the faces around him too, and caught +uneasy glances cast sideward at his face. Their pace had perceptibly +slowed. + +“I don’t like it either, Elje,” he said to the winged girl across the +swimming void that flowed past far below. “But we’ve got to do it. What +choice have we, except to be killed? They may be following us from the +cave already. Our only hope’s to reach the Mountain where we _may_ do a +little damage before—” He did not finish. There was no need to finish. + +Now they were so near the wall of opalescence rising like the end of the +world before them that Kern could see their own reflections floating +distorted high up on the face of the cliff. + +“Is it glass?” he asked. + +“No one knows.” Elje controlled a shiver. “No one who came close enough +to find out ever returned. It may be just a—a solid mass. I don’t—” +She had glanced across her shoulder to answer him. Now her gaze went +further. + +“They’re following,” she said in a dull voice. “If it is solid, we’re +trapped.” + +Kern looked back. In a dark mass like a low, level cloud on the horizon, +the winged ranks of the enemy moved in their wake. + +Kua suddenly pointed. + +“Look ahead,” she said. “Up there on the cliff, to the left—is it a +cave? I—why, it’s opening wider!” + +Everyone looked eagerly. There was a moment’s silence. The Mountain too +seemed to wait and listen. But Kern saw no change in the face of the +cliff. Unbroken, unshadowed, opalescent, it lifted before them. + +Wind sighed past them toward the cliff, ruffling their wings. The sigh +grew stronger—was a rising sough of sound—a sough that soared to an +ear-stunning shriek. Headlong they whirled toward the Mountain, +helpless, drawn upon that sudden irresistible wind. Kern clutched Byrna +tighter and fought his wrenched wings as the cliff rose up in his face, +like a solid cloud. + +Dimly he could make out the shape of the opening at the same moment it +engulfed him. Stunned with surprise, he went tumbling into the cliffside +on that sucking wind, half-blinded by the opalescent mist which filled +the tunnel. It was like spinning through a solid, for the impalpable +stuff they flew through was indistinguishable to the eye from the stuff +of the Mountain itself. + +Light dimmed behind them as they were drawn helpless in tumbling flight +deeper and deeper into the heart of the cloud—the Mountain—there was +no term for what it was they sped through. + +The wind that bore them along slowed. The deafening noise of it fell and +was a sigh, a whisper—silence. For an instant they hung in opalescent +nothingness, gasping for breath. Then Kua’s voice sounded sweetly in the +hush. + +“Look back—look back! I can see the way we came. I can see it closing. +Like water flowing together. No, like running sand.” + +Kern ceased to hear her. For suddenly he was aware of an almost +imperceptible thickening in the mist around him. Something not seen, but +felt. A closing and a supporting, so that the weight of his body and +Byrna’s no longer hung wholly upon his wings. A solidifying in the very +air. + +He could not move. + + + + + CHAPTER VII + + _Combat_ + + +Relentlessly the Mountain which had opened to receive them had closed +again, gently and solidly. The little group of captives hung frozen in +the very postures of flight, spread-winged, hair still blowing in a wind +which no longer moved past them. They were frozen as if in a moment of +eternal Now, as if time had ceased to move and their own motions had +ceased with it. + +And then before them in the opalescent cloud of the Mountain a thin coil +of light began to glow. + +Swiftly it grew clearer. And Kern looked with the eyes of the body upon +that which he had seen before with the eyes of the mind. He felt the +malevolence beat out at them before the fire itself came wholly into +focus, strong hatred, curiously impersonal. It was the hatred of a +Mountain, a cloud, not a human hatred. + +The lazy, coiling ribbon moved through the solid fog, the foggy solid +glass, somewhere ahead of the captives. It was impossible to gauge +distances here, but the thing was close enough to see in every detail. +Its slowly writhing coil that drew in and out of its own folds with a +leisurely, never-ending motion. Its burning color that was hot to the +eye and hot to the perceptive mind with the heat of its consuming +hatred. + +Something lay within the coils. It was drawing its ribbon-folds +caressingly about that something. They could not yet see what. + +For an instant or two the great, slow, burning thing moved in its long +folds before them, blind and impersonal and hating. But then came a new +change. Then it looked at them. + +Spots of luminous darkness began to swim slowly through the coils. They +came and went. Whenever a coil moved itself to face the captives in the +solid glass, eye-spots swam upon that coil, flickering out again as the +fiery curve moved on. + +It watched. It waited and hated and was silent. + +That which lay within it, bathed in the caressing coils, began to move. +The coils altered their pattern to leave what they supported visible. +And Kern felt a shock of emptiness within him that made the vision blur +for a moment. When he looked again it was unmistakable and clear before +him. + +Bruce Hallam, lying quietly on the supporting coils, his eyes open and +regarding them as impersonally as the eyes that came and went upon the +ribbons of fire. + +“This—” Bruce Hallam said clearly “—is my world.” + +The words came to them as if through empty air, with a cold clarity that +allowed of no mistake. For it was not wholly Bruce Hallam who spoke. It +was a voice of fire too. Hatred and blinding light coiled through the +words as it coiled through the fog before their eyes. Two beings spoke +with the single voice, but two beings who were now one. + +Sudden memory flashed through Kern’s mind. He saw the long-ago, far-away +room again, where the little group of mutants had stepped from one +universe to another. He saw Bruce opening his steel door upon a waiting +world, searching it with his eyes, closing the door again. He understood +now. Bruce had known. Somehow, he had known in the single glance which +world held kinship for him and which did not. + +Bruce, with his mutant’s uncanny skill at creating out of any means at +hand the more-than-machinery which would do his bidding, had recognized +this world. Kern remembered with shock his own blindness when Elje had +described to him what the Mountain’s slaves, under its guidance, could +do with any material at hand—how, when they still suspected Kern of +complicity with the enemy, they had cleared his room of any matter out +of which he might build a weapon to destroy them. + +Yes, this world was Bruce Hallam’s—not Kern’s after all. A winged +world, yes, but a world under dominance. And Bruce’s was the dominant +realm. + +All this flashed through his mind with the swiftness of a single +thought, while Bruce’s coldly burning words still sounded in their ears. +He was remembering how impersonal Bruce had always been, how remote from +human feeling, when he heard the cold voice again. + +“There is no place in my world for you,” Bruce told them calmly. “There +is room only for the winged people—and Me. You come from malleable +flesh, a malleable heritage. I can not trust you here. My coming into +the world made a cyclone here in the Mountain, drawing out forces better +left untouched. I was helpless then. I could not save—myself—until I +was out of your reach. The time has come to destroy the last remnants of +those who defy me. And you mutants whose flesh I can not control must go +with the rest.” + +He did not stir, but the coiling flame moved with sudden quickened +speed, flowing toward them _through_ the imprisoning glass which held +the humans so inflexibly. Bruce, then, was only the voice of this +dreadful duo. The ribbon of flame was the body. + +A long loop of it moved lazily forward, falling gently like a silk +ribbon through air. After it the fiery length followed gracefully, +weaving in and out of its own folds, and within the folds, always +caressed by them streaming over and around his body, Bruce Hallam moved +too, rigidly, supported on the coiling loops, not a muscle of his own +limbs stirring. + + * * * * * + +Kern watched them come. He had no idea what would happen when the +burning coils touched the first human, but he could feel the white heat +of its malevolence flow before it. Helpless, voiceless in the grip of +the unyielding glass, he strained fiercely for—for—he did not know +what. Only to be free to fight even uselessly against the oncoming +enemy. + +Sharply the thought in his mind broke in two. He had known this cleavage +before, but the utter strangeness of it stunned him for a moment so that +his thoughts went blank while something, _something_ stirred incredibly +through his body. + +The old feeling of change, of unutterable newness, of an unguessed sense +opening within him like nothing man ever knew before. + +Three times he had known this feeling since he stepped into the winged +world. Three times he had crushed it down, fearing and hating it for its +threat of making him alien again, alien to the winged people he had +hoped would be his own. But this time he did not fight. This time, in +the violent, straining effort to break free, he broke instead some +barrier which had until now held back the new thing, the _something_ +which had burgeoned relentlessly within him ever since he came within +the Mountain’s realm. + +The glass walls that held him like a prisoner in ice grew dim and +vanished. His companions pilloried in glass beside him wavered into +darkness. He no longer felt the warmth of Byrna frozen in glass in his +arms. Everything was dark—even the slow—coiling ribbons that looped +leisurely toward him through solid substance. + +And then out of that darkness came light. All about him came light. And +it took a long moment for him to discover he was not seeing that light +with eyes. He was seeing it—incredibly, impossibly—with his whole +body. He saw everything around him in one all-encompassing range. + +“This is the way the Mountain sees,” he knew with sudden certainty. How +he knew it was not clear; it was a knowledge that came with the new +vision. He and the Mountain, they shared a common faculty. + +Motion far away caught his fathomless attention and he was looking out +through the clouded side of the Mountain and seeing, as if he stood +before them, the flight of the oncoming winged men who had followed the +fugitives from the eyrie. They were nearly here now, approaching the +monstrous cliff as blindly as if they meant to dash themselves to death +against it. + +With the same all-embracing sight, Kern was aware of the people frozen +around him into the glass, and of the looping coils that flowed toward +them, and of Bruce Hallam, rigid as an image of stone, moving with the +moving ribbons. + +But they looked very different now. The people. + +He knew their faces, the familiar outlines of their bodies, but he could +see through the bodies with his new vision. And the appalling thing he +saw was not the structure of bone and muscle and nerve which a part of +his mind expected there. These things were only pale shadows upon +the—the _other_. + +The people were rings of flat, luminous color, disc upon disc of it, +superimposed, overlapping, no two people with the same patterns or the +same colors. And he knew that the muscular structure humans are aware +of, the skeleton, the nerves, are only a part of what comprises them. +Only a part—and not the part important to the Mountain. The Mountain +ruled by other means. + +Every flying man approaching outside the cliff had one thing in common +with his fellows. Each was made up of ring after ring of colors, +brilliant arcs and half-moons lying one upon another and in continual +delicate shifting motion. But in each, and moving slowly over the rings, +a circle of luminous darkness swung. Darkness like the eyes which swam +up to the surface of the coiling ribbons that embraced Bruce Hallam. An +eye—the eye of the Mountain. + +That was the thing the Mountain used in them to transmit its commands, +then. The point of contact in each man that made him a slave when the +orders came. + +There was no such eye in any of the people imprisoned around Kern. He +saw his own body with this new vision, rings and discs of color like the +rest, and with no dark, circling spot that meant the Mountain owned him. + +The Mountain is a creature of glass, he told himself clearly. Its body +is this opalescent stuff which is solid or gas as the Mountain wills. It +can make tunnels and caverns like open mouths through it and close them +again. And its brain, its motivating force, is the ribbon of fire, +endless, revolving upon itself in the center. It has many strange +senses. One of them I share now. + +He thought: When we came here, we somehow brought on a cyclone of +violent forces drawn from the Mountain itself. Because Bruce Hallam had +an inhuman kinship with the entity which dwells here. But it was an +entity so strong, so accustomed to mold the minds of its victims and use +them like tools to create other tools, that we ourselves were reshaped +without knowing it. + +This strange new sense began very early to take shape in me. Kua reacted +too, and Byrna. Sam? I don’t know. He’s gone. But as for me, I have +changed. + +Something stirred mysteriously through his flesh, and without the need +to look down, Kern’s horizon-circling vision told him that light had +begun to glow in him—fire—long, rolling loops of fire that stretched +with incredible flexibility _through_ the solid glass imprisoning him. + + * * * * * + +The ribbon of fire upon which Bruce’s body rode paused in its motion, +hesitated, almost drew back. Kern felt dimly its surprise and its +strange, inhuman hatred. But only dimly, for his own mind was too +stunned with this final revelation to let any other feeling through. + +Too malleable, he thought despairingly—flesh too malleable to hold its +own form under the irresistible altering pull that was the Mountain. And +now through the icy glass which held the humans rigid, two shapes of +coiling flame turned lazily over and over—one shape supporting a human +body and glowing incandescent with malevolence, the other still too +amazed for emotion, but stretching its new limbs of fire with a sort of +reluctant, voluptuous luxury as the endless ribbon rolled in +convolutions of flame in and out of its own length. A strange, inhuman +luxury, this, to stretch upon the firm, permeable glass, moving through +it as light might move, in a dimension of its own. + +Hatred like a blast of furnace-heat struck upon Kern’s new awareness +with an impact that jolted him out of this bewildering mental fog. Hate +and fear. He had felt that blast before, invisibly in the voids of +thought, and terror had come with it so that he fled blindly to escape. +But this time fear did not follow after the hate. This time he welcomed +conflict. + +“Now we’re equals—matched equals,” he told himself, and felt even in +this moment of danger and surprise the utter difference of his own mind +through which thoughts moved slowly and clearly, like his new limbs +through the solidity of the glass. If he had ever owned a body of flesh +and blood, it was his no longer. If his mind had ever dwelt there and +shaped its thoughts to the contours of brain and skull, they were shaped +no longer. This was new, new, terrible and wonderful beyond human +understanding. + +Slow exultation began to burn in him as he rolled the great coils of +fire which were his body toward that which until now had dwelt here +alone. Now the Mountain had a double mind—if the fiery ribbon was +indeed the mind of the thing—but moving still through a single gigantic +body of opalescent glass. And within that vast body, the doubled mind +moved upon itself in suicidal combat. + +Hatred was a bath of flame that engulfed him as their farthest coiling +loops touched—touched and engaged with sudden violence. But Kern was +not afraid now, not repelled. With a surging lunge he tested the +strength in that shape which was the twin of his own. The ribbons +writhed and strained. Then they paused for a moment and drew back in +mutual consent. And simultaneously, as if hurled by a single mind, +lunged forward again. + +This time the fiery limbs entangled until their full endlessly revolving +lengths were wholly engaged with one another and the two identical +shapes of rolling fire strove furiously together in a single knot that +boiled with ceaseless motion. + +Hatred burned and bubbled all around Kern’s awareness as he strove coil +against coil with the enemy. But it did not touch him any more. He felt +no fear. And when he began to realize that he could not vanquish this +being by strength alone, not even then did he feel fear. Emotion was +gone from him. Coil by coil he tested the thing he strove with, and coil +by coil he found it braced irresistibly against his greatest strength. +He could not swerve it by a single loop. + +But it could not swerve him. Matched in strength as they were in shape, +the two creatures of flame lay for a moment upon the clouded ice, limb +straining against limb in a perilous balance that permitted of no +motion. + +Then, very delicately, the awareness that had been Kern reached out with +a sense he had not until this moment known he possessed, and touched the +frozen body of Bruce Hallam. For he knew now that he and this enemy were +too perfectly matched for either to prevail, unless one or the other +found a lever by which his adversary could be overthrown. + +Was it Bruce? Gently, and then with increasing pressure, he tried that +rigid, unyielding body which had once been human. There was +nothing—nothing. Not even the discs of overlapping color which the +still-human exhibited to his new sight moved through Bruce’s limbs. He +was solid, unmoving, a shape of nothingness, and no sense could touch +him. No, Bruce was not the source through which strength might be +drained from the enemy. + +What, then? Kern asked himself with passionless consideration. And the +answer came clearly and unhurried, as if it had waited only this query +to reply. + +The winged men waiting outside the mountain—that was the answer. + +Almost outstripping the thought, his sight and his strange new senses +leaped to the surface of the Mountain. There the slaves hung on +stretched wings, tilting to the updrafts from below, circling and +soaring and waiting in mindless obedience for the command that would +release them from their mental thrall. + +Once he had seen them as winged humans fighting with fanatic violence. +Now they were only shapes of overlapping discs, full of slowly turning +motion, and in each the Eye of the Mountain swimming leisurely over the +surface of the colors. + +_The Eye_, he thought. The Eye! + + * * * * * + +Like a new, unguessed arm his awareness shot out and plunged into the +nearest spot of darkness which swam over the colored discs. Plunged +in—groped for contact—and tapped a source of flame. Up through the arm +the flame leaped, and into Kern’s body of matching flame. Almost +imperceptibly he felt the straining coils of the enemy give beneath the +pressure of his own. + +Another, and another and another of the flying shapes gave up its tiny +source of fire, and Kern’s strength grew with each. The combat which had +hung motionless in mutual violence now writhed suddenly into action +again as the balance was destroyed. But the fury of the enemy seemed to +double too as it felt itself bent backward upon its own fiery coils. + +What had been combat before the stasis turned into abrupt turmoil now. +The two ribbons of flame convulsed together, lashing and whipping into +an incandescent fury of struggle. And Kern knew in a timeless moment or +two that even this was not enough. He must find some last source of +power to give him the victory. + +The arm with which he had robbed the flying men of their Eyes groped, +plunged deeper, seeking more power within them. And amazingly, found it. + +For an instant Kern could not understand why strength in a full, deep +tide flowed into him as the light began to fail in his enemy. And then +he understood, and a surge of triumph for the first time glowed through +his whole being. + +For in giving its strength to its slaves, that it might command them, +the Enemy had opened a channel which ran both ways. And in draining the +slaves, Kern found himself draining the Enemy itself—reaching back and +back through each slave into the source from which that strength came. + +From a score, a hundred channels, the Mountain must have felt its own +power drain away. Its power, but not its hate. Kern could feel the +sheer, inhuman malevolence burning about him in great washes of flame as +the strength of the coils against his grew steadily weaker. The fire +sank down within it, dimming and fading as the creature bled its own +power away—bled flame, and slowly, slowly died! + +The turning ribbons of light no longer moved against Kern’s awareness. +His limbs engulfed not a luminous involuted band, but a thin, pale +hatred which fell apart as he drew his own body back. It fell apart into +a tiny rain of droplets, each of them dancing with its own seed of hate. +Twinkling, fading, and the hatred fading with them, until they were +gone. + +Kern felt change all about him, in the substance of the Mountain itself. +A vast, imponderable shifting of the clouded glass, a falling apart of +the atoms which composed it, as its soul of fire had fallen. The +opalescent stuff was a fog—a mist—a thin, dissipating gas which no +longer supported him. The cold of clear air struck terribly upon his +fiery limbs as the Mountain dissolved from about him. He convulsed upon +himself in a knot of flame that seemed to consume itself and to +cease—to cease— + + * * * * * + +Everything was blank around him. Neither dark nor light, but void. He +hung motionless upon nothing. He was no longer a shape of flame. He was +no longer a shape of flesh. He was nothing, nowhere. + +This was infinity, where time was not. For milleniums, he thought, he +drifted there upon oblivion. Milleniums, or moments! + +From far away a something began to be. He did not recognize it—he knew +only that where nothingness had been, now there was a something. He +heard a call. That was it, a call, a sound of incredible sweetness. + +A voice? Yes, it was a voice of sheer melody, saying a name. He did not +know the name. + +“Kern—Kern,” it cried. The syllable had no meaning to him, but the +sweetness of the voice that shaped it gradually began to rouse him from +his stupor. Over and over the syllable sounded, and then with a sudden +blaze of awareness he knew it for what it was. + +“My name!” he thought with amazement. “My own name!” + +The mind came back into him, and he knew. Like Bruce Hallam, he had hung +frozen and empty from the touch of the all-consuming fire which had been +himself. Like Bruce, he had been emptier than death. + +“Kern, Kern, come back,” wailed the voice of impossible sweetness. He +knew it now. Byrna’s voice, lovely as a siren’s magical song, summoning +him back to the living. + +[Illustration: He heard a voice of impossible sweetness, and slowly, +slowly, he felt warmth return to him.] + +Slowly, slowly, he felt warmth return to him. Slowly he drew his mind +together again, and then his body came back around him, and with +infinite effort he lifted the eyelids that shut out the world. + +He lay on a hillside in the full warm tide of the sunlight which poured +down from an empty sky. There was no Mountain any more. No vertiginous +thunderhead of glass towering up the zenith, casting its pale shadow +across the world. Someone bent over him, holding her wings to shut the +sun’s glare from his eyes. Her wings glistened. + +Tentatively he flexed his own. And then strength came back with a +magical rush to him, and he sat up with a strong beat of his pinions +that almost lifted him from the ground. All around him smiling faces +watched in the shadow of their wings. + +And he knew that he was free at last, and the winged world was free. And +he was no longer alien. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAY OF THE GODS *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following +the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use +of the Project Gutenberg trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> + +<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Way of the gods</p> +<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Henry Kuttner</p> +<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: June 23, 2022 [eBook #68378]</p> +<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> + <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan, Alex White & the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net.</p> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAY OF THE GODS ***</div> + +<div class="figcenter x-ebookmaker-drop"> + <img src="images/illusc.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class="titlepage"> + +<h1>WAY OF THE GODS</h1> + +<h2>By HENRY KUTTNER</h2> + +<p><i>Spawn of atomic fission, this strange company<br /> +of mutants exiled by humanity battles against<br /> +enslavement in a foreign world dominated by<br /> +the evil Spirit of the Crystal Mountain!</i></p> + +<p>[Transcriber’s Note: This etext was produced from<br /> +Thrilling Wonder Stories, April 1947.<br /> +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> +the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p class="ph1">CHAPTER I</p> + +<p class="ph2"><i>New Worlds</i></p> + + +<p>He looked at the October morning all about him as if he had never seen +October before. That was not true, of course. But he knew that he would +never see it again. Unless they had mornings, and Octobers—where he was +going. It did not seem likely, though the old man had talked a great +deal about key-patterns and the selectivity of the machine, and the +multiple universes spinning like motes in a snowstorm through infinity.</p> + +<p>“But I’m human!” he said aloud, sitting cross-legged on the warm brown +earth and feeling the breeze which gave the lie instantly to his +thought. He felt the gentle pull at his shoulder-blades which meant that +his wings were fluttered a little by the breeze, and instinctively he +flexed the heavy bands of muscle across his chest to control the +wing-surfaces.</p> + +<p>He was not human. That was the trouble. And this world, this bright +October world that stretched to the horizon around him was made to +shelter the race that had become dominant, and was jealous of its +dominion. Humanity, that had no place for strangers among its ranks.</p> + +<p>The others did not seem to care very much. They had been reared in the +creche almost from birth, under a special regime that isolated them from +the humans. The old man had been responsible for that. He had built the +huge house on the hillside, swooping curves of warmly-colored plastic +that blended into the brown and green of the land—an asylum that had +finally failed. The walls were breached.</p> + +<p>“Kern,” someone behind him said.</p> + +<p>The winged man turned his head, glancing up past the dark curve of his +wings. A girl came toward him down the slope from the house. Her name +was Kua. Her parents had been Polynesian, and she had the height and the +lithe grace of her Oceanic race, and the shining dark hair, the warm, +honey-colored skin. But she wore opaque dark glasses, and across her +forehead a band of dark plastic that looked opaque too, and was not. +Beneath, her face was lovely, the red mouth generously curved, the +features softly rounded like the features of all her race.</p> + +<p>She was not human either.</p> + +<p>“It’s no use worrying, Kern,” she said, smiling down at him. “It’ll work +out all right. You’ll see.”</p> + +<p>“All right!” Kern snorted scornfully. “You think so, do you?”</p> + +<p>Kua glanced instinctively around the hillside, making sure they were +alone. Then she put both hands to her face and slipped off the glasses +and the dark band from her forehead. Kern, meeting the gaze of her +bright blue eye, was conscious again of the little shock he always felt +when he looked into her uncovered face.</p> + +<p>For Kua was a cyclops. She had one eye centered in her forehead. And she +was—when the mind could accept her as she was, not as she should be—a +beautiful woman in spite of it. That blue brilliance in the dusky face +had a depth and luster beyond the eyes of humans. Heavy lashes ringed +it, and the gaze could sink fathom upon fathom in her eye and never +plumb its depths.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Kua’s eye was a perfect lens. Whatever lens can do, her eye could do. No +one could be sure just what miraculous mechanisms existed beyond the +blue surface, but she could see to a distance almost beyond the range of +the ordinary telescope and she could focus down upon the microscopic. +And there may have been other things the single eye could do. One did +not question one’s companions too closely in this house of the +mutations.</p> + +<p>“You’ve been with us two years, Kern,” she was saying now. “Only two +years. You don’t know yet how strong we are, or how much we can +accomplish among us. Bruce Hallam knows what he’s doing, Kern. He never +works on theories. Or if he does, the theories become truth. He has a +mind like that. You don’t know us, Kern!”</p> + +<p>“You can’t fight a whole world.”</p> + +<p>“No. But we can leave it.” She smiled, and he knew she saw nothing of +the golden morning all around them. She knew nothing, really, of the +cities that dotted the world of 1980, or the lives that were so +irrevocably alien to her. They should have been alien to Kern too, but +not until he was eighteen had the wings begun to grow upon his +shoulders.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, Kua,” he said. “I’m not sure I want to. I had a father +and a mother—brothers—friends.”</p> + +<p>“Your parents are your greatest enemies,” she told him flatly. “They +gave you life.”</p> + +<p>He looked away from the penetrating stare of that great blue single eye +and past her at the big plastic house. That had been asylum, after the +massacre of 1967—asylum against the hordes bent on extirpating the +freakish monsters created by atomic radiation. He could not remember, of +course, but he had read about it, never guessing then that such a thing +would ever apply to him. The old man had told him the story.</p> + +<p>First had come the atomic war, brief, terrible, letting loose nameless +radiations upon the world. And then had followed the wave upon wave of +freak births among those exposed to it. Genes and chromosomes altered +beyond comprehension. Monstrous things were born of human parents.</p> + +<p>One in ten, perhaps, had been a successful mutation. And even those were +dangerous to homo sapiens.</p> + +<p>Evolution is like a roulette wheel. The conditions of the earth favor +certain types of mutation capable of survival. But atomic energies had +upset the balance, and mutations spawned in sheer madness began to +spread. Not many, of course. Not many were viable. But two-headed things +were born—and lived—along with geniuses and madmen. World Council had +studied the biological and social problem for a long time before it +recommended euthanasia. Man’s evolution had been planned and charted. It +must not be allowed to swerve from the track, or chaos would be let +loose.</p> + +<p>Geniuses, mutant humans with abnormally high I.Q.’s, were allowed to +survive. Of the others, none lived after they had been detected. +Sometimes they were difficult to detect. By 1968 only the true-line +mutations, faithful to the human biological norm, were alive—with +certain exceptions.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Such as the old man’s son, Sam Brewster. He was a freak, with a +certain—talent. A superhuman talent. The old man had disobeyed the +Government law, for he had not sent the infant to the labs for checking +and testing—and annihilation. Instead, he had built this great house, +and the boy had never gone far beyond its grounds.</p> + +<p>Gradually then, partly to provide the youth with companionship, partly +out of compassion, the father had begun to gather others together. +Secretly, a mutant infant here, a mutant child there, he brought them +in, until he had a family of freaks in the big plastic house. He had not +taken them haphazardly. Some would not have been safe to live with. Some +were better dead from the start But those with something to offer beyond +their freakishness, he found and sheltered.</p> + +<p>It was the bringing in of Kern that gave the secret away. The boy had +gone too long among ordinary humans, while his wings grew. He was +eighteen, and his pinions had a six-foot spread, when old Mr. Brewster +found him. His family had tried to keep him hidden, but the news was +leaking out already when he left for the Brewster asylum, and in the +years since it had spread until the authorities at last issued their +ultimatum.</p> + +<p>“It was my fault,” Kern said bitterly. “If it hadn’t been for me, you’d +never have been molested.”</p> + +<p>“No.” Kua’s deep, luminous eye fixed his. “Sooner or later you know +they’d have found us. Better let it happen now, while we’re all still +young and adaptable. We can go and enjoy going, now.” Her voice shook a +little with deep excitement. “Think of it, Kern! New worlds! Places +beyond the earth, where there could be people like us!”</p> + +<p>“But Kua, I’m human! I feel human. I don’t want to leave. This is where +I belong!”</p> + +<p>“You say that because you grew up among normal people. Kern, you’ve got +to face it. Tire only place for any of us is—somewhere away.”</p> + +<p>“I know.” He grinned wryly. “But I don’t have to like it. Well—we’d +better go back. They’ll have the ultimatum by now, I suppose. May as +well hear it. I know what the answer is. Don’t you?”</p> + +<p>She nodded, watching his involuntary glance around the empty blue sky, +the warm October hills. A world for humans. But for humans alone....</p> + +<p>Back in the Brewster plastic asylum, the inmates had assembled.</p> + +<p>“There isn’t much time,” old Mr. Brewster said. “They’re on their way +here now, to take you all back for euthanasia.”</p> + +<p>Sam Brewster laughed harshly.</p> + +<p>“We could show ’em a few tricks.”</p> + +<p>“No. You can’t fight the whole world. You could kill many of them, but +it wouldn’t do any good. Bruce’s machine is the only hope for you all.” +His voice broke a little. “It’s going to be a lonely world for me, +children, after you’ve gone.”</p> + +<p>They looked at him uncomfortably, this strange, unrelated family of +freak mutations, scarcely more than the children he had called them, but +matured beyond their years by their strange rearing.</p> + +<p>“There are worlds beyond counting, as you know,” Bruce said precisely. +“Infinite numbers—worlds where we might not be freaks at all. Somewhere +among them there must be places where each of our mutations is a norm. +I’ve set the machine to the aggregate pattern of us all and it’ll find +our equivalents—something to suit one of us at least. And the others +can go on looking. I can build the machine in duplicate on any world, +anywhere, where I can live at all.” He smiled, and his strange light +eyes glowed.</p> + +<p>It was curious, Kern thought, how frequently in mutations the eyes were +the giveaway. Kua, of course. And Sam Brewster with his terrible veiled +glance protected by its secondary lid which drew back only in anger. And +Bruce Hallam, whose strangeness was not visible but existed only in the +amazing intricacies of his brain, looked upon the alien world with eyes +that mirrored the mysteries behind them.</p> + +<p>Bruce knew machinery—call it machinery for lack of a more comprehensive +word—with a knowledge that was beyond learning. He could produce +miracles with any set of devices his fingers could contrive. He seemed +to sense by sheer instinct the courses of infinite power, and harness +them with the simplest ease, the simplest mechanics.</p> + +<p>There was a steel cubicle in the corner of the room with a round steel +door which had taken Bruce a week to set up. Over it a panel burned with +changing light, flickering through the spectrum and halting now and then +upon clear red. When it was red, then the—the world—upon which the +steel door opened was a world suitable for the little family of +mutations to enter. The red light meant it could support human life, +that it paralleled roughly the world they already knew, and that +something in its essential pattern duplicated the pattern of at least +one of the mutant group.</p> + +<p>Kern was dizzy when he thought of the sweep of universes past that door, +world whirling upon world where no human life could dwell, worlds of gas +and flame, worlds of ice and rock. And, one in a countless number, a +world of sun and water like their own....</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>It was incredible. But so were the wings at his own back, so was Kua’s +cyclopean eye, and Sam Brewster’s veiled gaze, and so was the brain in +Bruce Hallam’s skull, which had built a bridge for them all.</p> + +<p>He glanced around the group. Sitting back against the wall, in shadow, +Byrna, the last of the mutant family, lifted her gray gaze to his. +Compassion touched him as always when he met her eyes.</p> + +<p>Byrna was physically the most abnormal of them all, in her sheer +smallness. She came scarcely to Kern’s elbow when she was standing. She +was proportioned perfectly in the scale of her size, delicate, fragile +as something of glass. But she was not beautiful to look at. There was a +wrongness about her features that made them pathetically ugly, and the +sadness in her gray eyes seemed to mirror the sadness of all misfit +things.</p> + +<p>Byrna’s voice had magic in it, and so did her brain. Wisdom came as +simply to her as knowledge came to Bruce Hallam, but she had infinitely +more warmth than he. Bruce, Kern sometimes thought, would dismember a +human as dispassionately as he would cut wire in two if he needed the +material for an experiment. Bruce looked the most normal of them all, +but he would not have passed the questioning of the most superficial +mental examination.</p> + +<p>Now his voice was impatient. “What are we waiting for? Everything’s +ready.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you must go quickly,” the old man said. “Look—the light’s coming +toward red now, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>The panel above the steel door was orange. As they watched it shifted +and grew ruddier. Bruce went silently forward and laid his hand on the +lever that opened the panel. When the light was pure red he pushed the +steel bar down.</p> + +<p>In half-darkness beyond the opening a gust of luminous atoms blew across +a craggy horizon. Against it there was a suggestion of towers and arches +and columns, and lights that might have been aircraft swung in steady +orbits above.</p> + +<p>No one spoke. After a moment Bruce closed the door again, grimacing. The +light above it hovered toward a reddish purple and then turned blue.</p> + +<p>“Not that world,” Bruce said. “We’ll try again.”</p> + +<p>In the shadow Byrna murmured:</p> + +<p>“It doesn’t matter—any world will be the same for us.” Her voice was +pure music.</p> + +<p>“Listen! Do you hear planes?” the old man said. “It’s time, children. +You must go.”</p> + +<p>There was silence. Every eye watched the lighted panel. Colors hovered +there to and fro through the spectrum. A faint ruddiness began to glow +again.</p> + +<p>“This time we’ll take it if it looks all right,” Bruce said, and laid +his hand again upon the lever.</p> + +<p>The light turned red. Soundlessly the round door swung open.</p> + +<p>Sunlight came through, low green hills, and the clustered roofs of a +town were visible a little distance away in a valley.</p> + +<p>Without a word or a backward glance Bruce stepped through the door. One +by one the others moved after him, Kern last. Kern’s lips were pressed +together and he did not glance behind him. He could have seen the hills +of earth beyond the windows, and the blue October sky. He would not look +at them. He shrugged his wings together and stooped to enter the gateway +of the new world.</p> + +<p>Behind them the old man watched in silence, seeing the work of his +lifetime ending before his eyes. The gulf between them was too broad for +leaping. He was human and they were not. Across a vast distance, vaster +than the gulf between worlds, he saw the family of the mutations step +over their threshold and vanish forever.</p> + +<p>He closed the door after them. The red light faded above it. He turned +toward his own door where the knocking of World Council’s police had +already begun to summon him to his accounting.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p class="ph1">CHAPTER II</p> + +<p class="ph2"><i>His Own Kind</i></p> + + +<p>Above them, the sky was blue. The five aliens who were alien to all +worlds alike stood together on a hilltop looking down.</p> + +<p>“It’s beautiful,” Kua said. “I’m glad we chose this one. But I wonder +what the next one would have been like if we could have waited.”</p> + +<p>“It will be the same no matter where we go,” Byrna’s infinitely sweet +voice murmured.</p> + +<p>“Look at the horizon,” Bruce said. “What is it?”</p> + +<p>They saw then the first thing that marked this world alien to earth. For +the most part it might have been any hilly wooded land they knew from +the old place; even the roofs of the village looked spuriously familiar. +But the horizon was curiously misted, and before them, far off, +rose—something—to an impossible height halfway up the zenith.</p> + +<p>“A mountain?” Kern asked doubtfully. “It’s too high, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“A glass mountain,” Kua said. “Yes, it is glass—or plastic? I can’t be +sure.”</p> + +<p>She had uncovered her single eye and the shining pupil was contracted as +she gazed over impossible distances at the equally impossible bulk of +that thing on the horizon. It rose in a vast sweep of opalescent color, +like a translucent thundercloud hanging over the whole land. Knowing it +for a mountain, the mind felt vertiginous at the thought of such +tremendous bulk towering overhead.</p> + +<p>“It looks clear,” Kua said. “All the way through. I can’t tell what’s +beyond it. Just an enormous mountain made out of—of plastic? I wonder.”</p> + +<p>Kern was aware of a tugging at his wing-surfaces, and glanced around in +quick recognition of the strengthening breeze. He was the first to +notice it.</p> + +<p>“It’s beginning to blow. And listen—do you hear?”</p> + +<p>It grew louder as they stood there, a shrill, strengthening whine in the +air coming from the direction of the cloudlike mountain. A whine that +grew so rapidly they had scarcely recognized it as noise before it was +deafening all about them, and the wind was like a sudden hurricane.</p> + +<p>That passed in a gust, noise and wind alike, leaving them breathless and +staring at one another in dismay.</p> + +<p>“Look, over there, quick!” Kua said, “Another one’s coming!”</p> + +<p>Far off, but moving toward them with appalling speed, came a monstrous +spinning tower of—light? Smoke? They could not be sure.</p> + +<p>It whirled like a waterspout in a typhoon, vast, bending majestically +and righting itself again, and the air spun with it, and the wild, +shrill screaming began again.</p> + +<p>The vortex of brilliance passed them far to the left, catching them in +its shrieking hurricane of riven air and then releasing them again into +shaken silence. But there was another one on its way before they had +caught their breath again, a whirling, bowing tower that spun screeching +off toward the right. And after it another, and close behind that, a +fourth.</p> + +<p>The noise and the violence of the wind stunned Kern so that he had no +idea what was happening to the others on the hilltop. He was susceptible +because of his wings. The hurricane caught him up and whirled him +sideward down the slope—shrieking in his ears with a noise so great it +was almost silence, beyond the range of sound.</p> + +<p>Stunned, he struggled for balance, leaning against the rushing wall of +air as solid as a wall of stone. For a moment or two he kept the ground +underfoot. Then his wings betrayed him and, in spite of himself, he felt +the six-foot pinions blown wide and the muscles ached across his chest +with the violence of the wind striking their spread surfaces.</p> + +<p>The horizon tilted familiarly as he swooped in a banking curve. The +glass mountain for a moment hung overhead and he looked straight down at +the wooded hills, seeing tiny blowing figures reeling across the slopes +in the grip of the hurricane winds. Hanging here far above the treetops, +he could see that the monsters of whirling light were coming thicker and +faster across the hilltops, striding like giants, trailing vortices of +wind and sound in their wake. For an instant he swung in the grip of the +hurricane, watching the vast whirling spindles moving and bowing +majestically across the face of the new earth.</p> + +<p>Then the vortex caught him again and he was spun blindly into the heart +of the whirlwind, deafened with its terrible screaming uproar, wrenched +this way and that upon aching wings, too dizzy for fear or thought. Time +ceased. Half senseless, he was whirled to and fro upon the irresistible +winds. He closed his eyes against flying dust, locked his hands over his +ears to shut out the deafening shrill of the blast and let the hurricane +do with him as it would.</p> + +<p>Kern felt a hand on his arm and roused himself out of a half-stupor.</p> + +<p>He thought, I must be on the ground again, and made an instinctive +effort to sit up. The motion threw him into a ludicrous spin and he +opened his eyes wide to see the earth whirling far below him.</p> + +<p>He was coasting at terrific speed through the upper air upon a cold, +screaming highway of wind, and moving easily beside him, riding on broad +pinions like his own, a girl paralleled his flight.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Long pale hair streamed behind her away from her blue-eyed face, whipped +to pinkness by the blast. She was calling something to him, but the +words were snatched from her lips by the wind and he heard nothing +except that shrill, continuous howling all around them. He could see +that she held him by one arm, and with her free hand was pointing +downward vehemently. He could not hear her words, and knew he probably +could not understand them if he did, but the gesture’s meaning he could +not mistake.</p> + +<p>Nodding, he shrugged his left wing high and arched his body for a long +downward spiral toward the ground. The girl turned with him, and +together they glided sidewise across the rushing air-currents, +delicately tacking against the wind, picking their way by instinctive +muscular reactions of the spread pinions, while below them the ground +swayed and turned like a fluid sea.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""/> + <div class="caption"> + <p>Together they glided across the rushing air currents.</p> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p>Kern glided downward on a wave of exultation like nothing he had ever +experienced before in his life. He knew little about this world or about +the girl beside him, but one thing stood out clearly—he was no longer +alone. No longer the only winged being on an alien planet. And this long +downward glide, like the motion of perfect dancers responding each to +the other’s most delicate motion, was the most satisfying thing he had +ever known.</p> + +<p>For the first time he realized one of the great secrets of a flying +race—to fly alone is to know only half the joy of flying. When another +winged being moves beside you on the airways, speed matching speed, +wings beating as one, then at last you taste the full ecstasy of flight.</p> + +<p>Kern was breathless with joy and excitement when the ground swooped up +at them and he banked against the rush of his glide. With suddenly +fluttering wings, he reversed his position in the air and felt with both +feet for the solid earth. He had to run a little to cut down his speed, +and the girl ran beside him, breathless and laughing a bit as she ran.</p> + +<p>When they came to a halt and swung to face one another the long ashen +hair blew forward in a cloud that had caught up with her at last, and +she fought it, laughing, and brushed back the tangled mass with both +hands, the pale wings the exact color of her hair folding back from her +shoulders.</p> + +<p>He saw now that she wore a tight tunic of some very fine, supple +leather, and long tight boots of the same material. The hilt of a +jeweled knife stood up against her ribs from a jeweled belt.</p> + +<p>Around them the wind still blew cold and shrill, but the blast of it was +slackening noticeably and warmth was creeping back little by little into +the air. They stood on a wooded hill, under trees whose whipping +branches added to the tumult of noise, and Kern could see a broad vista +of the land before him, with no more of the vast bending giants of the +hurricane moving across it. The storm must be over, he thought.</p> + +<p>The girl spoke. She had a pleasant contralto voice, and the language she +spoke was slightly guttural and of course entirely strange. Kern saw the +surprise and doubt on her face when she saw that he did not understand +her.</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re a pretty thing. I wish we could talk to +each other.”</p> + +<p>She matched his smile, but the bewilderment deepened on her face.</p> + +<p>Kern thought, She can’t believe I don’t know her language. Could that +mean there’s only one tongue spoken in this world? It’s wishful +thinking—I want so much to believe it! Because that might mean the +people here are all winged, and move around so easily that separate +languages haven’t had a chance to evolve.</p> + +<p>His heart was beating faster, with an eagerness that he found a little +ludicrous. He had never suspected even in his own dreams how much it +would mean to him to belong at last to a race that could accept him as +one of its own. Bruce Hallam had set his machine in the aggregate +pattern of the whole mutant group, knowing as he did so how unlikely it +was that more than one of them could hope for an equivalent world on a +single planet. But Bruce’s skill being what it was, Kern told himself +there was no reason to be surprised that the expected had happened.</p> + +<p>This world was his own. A winged world. He was luckiest and first of the +group to find a place where he belonged. Exultation closed up his throat +with the joy of being no longer alien.</p> + +<p>“Or maybe I’m building too much on one example,” he warned himself +aloud. “Are we all winged in this world, girl? Say something, quick. I +want to learn your language! Answer me, girl—are you an alien too, or +is this the world where I belong?”</p> + +<p>She laughed at him, recognizing the half-serious tone of his voice +though the words meant nothing. And then her glance went across his +shoulder, and a look of subtle withdrawal crossed her face. She said +something in her guttural tongue and nodded toward the trees behind +Kern.</p> + +<p>He turned. A third winged figure was walking toward them under the +still-roaring trees, wings whipped by the wind until the newcomer +staggered now and then when the full blast caught him.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Kern was aware at first only of profound thankfulness. Another winged +person was almost the answer to his remaining doubt. Where there were +two, surely there must be many.</p> + +<p>This was a man. Like the girl, he wore thin, tight leather and a dagger +at his belt. His hair was red, and so were his silky wings, but his face +was duskily tanned and Kern caught the flash of sidelong, light eyes as +the man approached them. He saw, too, in another moment, that the +newcomer was a hunchback. Between the shining reddish wings the man’s +back was slightly crooked, so that he looked up at them with his head +awry. He had a young face, with beautiful clear planes, beneath the +darkness of his tan.</p> + +<p>“Gerd—” the girl called, and then hesitated. He flashed the light eyes +at her, and Kern decided it was probably his name.</p> + +<p>The pale gaze moved back to Kern, and watched him searchingly as the +hunchback fought the wind to the shelter of their tree. The man was +wary, ready for distrust before he so much as saw Kern’s face. It was +odd, in a way.</p> + +<p>They talked, the girl excitedly in her contralto voice, guttural words +tumbling over each other. Gerd’s answers were brief, in an unexpectedly +deep tone. Presently he unsheathed his dagger and with it gestured +toward Kern and the valley below them.</p> + +<p>Kern bristled a little. There was no need for threats. If these people +were still in a state of undevelopment where knives were their customary +weapon, he was far beyond them in some ways at least. It was not a +pleasant introduction to this world, where he felt himself already +native, to have those first directions pointed out with a bare blade.</p> + +<p>The girl, seeing his scowl, laughed gently and came forward to take his +arm. She gestured Gerd away with her other hand, and he smiled grimly +and stood back. The girl fluttered her wings a little and made a +swooping gesture of her hand to indicate flight. She pointed to the +valley. Then she stepped away to the brow of the hill, unfolded her +wings, tested the dying wind with them, and leaned forward with sublime +confidence into the void.</p> + +<p>The updraft caught her beneath the pinions and bore her aloft on a +beautiful sweep, her pale hair blowing like a banner. In midair she +twisted to beckon, and Kern laughed in sheer delight and ran to follow +her, spreading his dark wings so that at the fourth stride, with a leap, +suddenly he was airborne. It was a glorious feeling to fly without shame +or need of concealment. He scarcely heard the beat of wings behind him +as the hunchback took to the air in their wake. The joy of flying in +company was great enough just now to shut out all other thoughts from +Kern’s mind.</p> + +<p>They swept high along the slow-running river of wind over a winding +valley. Kern, watching for the companions with whom he had entered this +wonderful world, saw no motion at all among the trees they soared over. +He caught sight presently of a cluster of roofs far ahead, at the top of +the valley, built around a stream that wound to and fro among the +houses, and was filled with excited speculation as they neared the +village.</p> + +<p>My people, he thought. My own people. What kind of a town will it be, +and what sort of culture? How fast can I learn the language? There’s so +much to find out.</p> + +<p>The thought broke in his mind. For something—he had no name for it—was +stirring very strangely through his body.</p> + +<p>For an instant the whole airy world went blind around him. It was as if +a new pair of lungs had opened up within him and he had drawn a deep, +full breath of such air as no human ever tasted before. It was as if new +eyes had opened in his head and he had looked on a new dimension with +multiple sight. It was like neither of these, nor was it like anything a +man ever experienced before. New, new, inexpressibly new!</p> + +<p>And it was gone.</p> + +<p>In flight Kern staggered a little, his wings forgetting to beat the +sustaining air. The thing had come and gone so quickly, and yet it was +not a wholly unfamiliar thing, after all. Once before something like it +had happened. Something, different, but at the time heart-breakingly +new. It was when he first felt the wings thrust out upon his shoulders. +When he first felt the change within himself that cut him off from +mankind.</p> + +<p>“Am I changing again?” he asked himself fiercely. “Isn’t the mutation +over yet? I won’t change! I belong here now—I won’t let anything spoil +that!”</p> + +<p>The feeling was gone. He could not remember even now what it had been +actually like. He would not change! He would fight change while breath +remained in him. Whatever strange new mutation struggled now for being +in his mysterious flesh he would strangle before he let it come between +him and these people with wings.</p> + +<p>It had gone, now. He would forget it. It should be as if it had never +happened.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p class="ph1">CHAPTER III</p> + +<p class="ph2"><i>Gathering Danger</i></p> + + +<p>Sunlight winked from the diamond-paned windows of the village. They +circled above the rooftops and came in against the wind for a landing on +the high, flat roof of the central building, its open square paved with +tiles painted in bright, crude pictures of flying men and women.</p> + +<p>From above Kern could see the cobbled streets winding narrowly past +overhanging eaves, little stone bridges arching the stream that gushed +rapidly down through the village. Flowers were bright in narrow, ordered +bands around the houses. There were steep streets that rose in steps +around the curves of the hill upon which the town was based.</p> + +<p>The roofs were steeply pitched, arguing a heavy snowfall in winter, but +each of them had a landing area on the highest part of the house, +usually facing a low door let into a gable. And Kern’s last doubt +departed. This was indeed a village of flying people. He had come into +his own world at last.</p> + +<p>His content lasted about five minutes.</p> + +<p>Then they came down upon the brightly tiled landing-roof of what was +probably the townhall, and Kern, already fluttering his wings for a +landing, saw something that made him instinctively tighten the +chest-muscles that controlled his wings so that they stiffened into +broad pinions again. He soared and made a second circle about the +rooftop.</p> + +<p>The girl had reversed herself and was reaching with one foot for a +landing when she saw what had startled him. She laughed and looked up, +beckoning through the cloud of her settling hair.</p> + +<p>Kern made a third circle, fighting the updraft among the houses while he +looked down dubiously at the two dead men sprawled upon the roof. Both +were young and both were winged. The girl walked delicately by them as +if they were not there, settling her wings precisely. She stepped over +the pool of blood, still liquid, that ran from a wound in the nearer +man’s neck, streaked across the width of his quiet pinion, and that +puddled the brilliant tiles with a color of even brighter hue.</p> + +<p>There was a measured beating of the air above Kern, and he looked up to +see the hunchback hovering on silky red wings above him. Sunlight +flashed on a bared knife-blade. Gerd gestured down. And there was +something about his poise in the air, the way he handled his muscular, +twisted body, that warned Kern not to precipitate a struggle. It +occurred to him for the first time that fighting in midair must be an +art requiring skills he had never learned—yet.</p> + +<p>Gingerly he circled again and came down very lightly at the edge of the +roof, holding his wings half-open until he was sure of his footing. The +girl was waiting for him. She smiled, her blue glance flicking the dead +men. Then she slapped her own dagger significantly, glanced at the +bodies and back at Kern, and with a careless beckoning motion turned to +enter the roof door.</p> + +<p>A little dazed, Kern followed. Did she mean she herself had killed them? +What extraordinary sort of culture had he found ready-made for him here? +The first doubts stirring in his mind, he stooped his wings under the +door-frame and groped down a narrow, curving stairway behind the +floating hair of his guide. Behind him he heard Gerd’s feet thump +uncompromisingly from step to step.</p> + +<p>Voices came up the stair-well as they descended. At the bottom of the +flight Kern followed the girl into a big stone-paved room, +low-ceilinged, smoky from the fire that blazed in a huge cavern of +whitewashed brick at one end of the roof.</p> + +<p>The room was full of the living and the dead. Bewildered. Kern glanced +about at the winged bodies which had obviously been dragged carelessly +out of the center of the room and heaped against the walls. Blood lay in +coagulating pools here and there on the flags. The men about the +fireplace seemed to be debating something in loud voices. They looked up +sharply as the girl entered. Then there was a clattering rush and a +clamor of guttural voices as they hurried to greet her.</p> + +<p>Kern made out one word among their sentences that seemed to be her name.</p> + +<p>“Elje—Elje!”</p> + +<p>Their voices echoed under the low ceiling, their wings made a rustle and +soft clatter as they shouldered together around her. If it had not been +for the unconsidered dead at their feet, Kern would have been happy +without reservation, knowing at last beyond any doubt that this was a +world of the winged.</p> + +<p>They were talking about him, obviously. Elje, braiding her disordered +hair, spoke rapidly and glanced from Kern to her companions and back +again. Kern did not wholly like the looks of the men. Without wings, +they would have seemed an undisciplined, violent group. Their faces were +scarred and weather-beaten. All of them wore knives, and they had +clearly been in a hard fight within the last few hours.</p> + +<p>Among the dead on the floor there were men without wings. There were +also, he saw now, a few women, some winged, some not. Two races? Somehow +he surmised that was not true; there was a subtle likeness among them +all, the wingless and the winged, that marked them of the same racial +stock.</p> + +<p>Presently he began to notice that the unwinged were all either elderly +or adolescent. He remembered that his own wings had not begun to grow +until he was past eighteen. Was it only in their prime that this race +could fly? And would he, with advancing years, lose again this glorious +attribute he had only now begun to enjoy?</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>The thought damped that surge of exultation which still flooded his mind +beneath the surface bewilderment. And then he grinned wryly to himself, +thinking:</p> + +<p>“Maybe it won’t happen. Maybe I won’t live that long!”</p> + +<p>For the looks of the grim men around him were not encouraging. If he had +guessed right about a universal language in this world, it was not +strange that his ignorance of it gave them room for suspicion. And in a +village where life was held as cheaply as it was held here, he could +probably expect direct and violent reactions to suspicion.</p> + +<p>He was not far wrong. The men spoke among themselves in brawling voices +a moment or two longer, the girl Elje braiding her hair carelessly and +putting in a word now and then. While Kern stood there, debating with +himself what was best to do, the argument came to a swift climax. Elje +called something in a clear voice and, directly behind him, Kern heard a +guttural monosyllable in answer, and the rustle of wings, and felt +something cold and edged laid against the side of his neck.</p> + +<p>He stood quite still. Then the hunchback, Gerd, sidled around into his +view, holding the sharp knife with a steady hand against Kern’s jugular. +The pale eyes in the dark young face were steady and full of cold +threat.</p> + +<p>Someone moved across the flagstones behind him and Kern felt hands draw +his wrists together, felt the roughness of rope pulled tight around +them. He did not protest. He was too surprised, and too unaccustomed to +violence in his daily life, to know just now what course he should take. +And he was filled still with the thought that these were his own people.</p> + +<p>A something heavy and clinging fell suddenly across his wings. He jumped +and looked back. It was a net, which a man with a scarred face and +suspicious, squinting eyes was rapidly knotting together at the base of +his pinions.</p> + +<p>The hunchback grunted another monosyllable and drove the point of his +knife against Kern’s shoulder, jerking his red head toward a flight of +stairs across the room. The winged men drew back to let the two pass, +silent now and watching with impassive faces. Elje, finishing the last +of the second braid, tossed the pale silken rope of it across her +shoulder and would not meet Kern’s eyes as he went by.</p> + +<p>The stairs twisted unevenly through narrow stone walls. At the third +level the hunchback threw open a heavy, low door and followed Kern into +the room beyond. It was rather a pleasant little place, circular, with +tile-banded walls and a tiled floor. The single window was barred and +looked out over rooftops and distant hills. There was a low bed, a +table, two chairs, nothing more.</p> + +<p>The hunchback pushed Kern roughly toward one of the chairs. Both of +them, Kern noticed, had low backs to clear the wings of those who might +sit in them. He sank down and looked at the red-winged man expectantly. +What happened then was the last thing, perhaps, that he might have +expected to hear.</p> + +<p>Gerd held out his dagger, level across his palm, pointed to it with the +other hand and growled, “<i>Kaj</i>.” He slapped his sheath then, said, +“<i>Kajen</i>,” and dropped the dagger into it. His pale eyes bored into +Kern’s.</p> + +<p>Unexpectedly, Kern heard himself laughing. Partly it was relief, for he +would not have been surprised to feel the edge of that knife called +<i>kaj</i> sink into his throat once the door had closed behind them.</p> + +<p>Instead, apparently this was to be a lesson in language....</p> + +<p>Once, in the night, he awoke briefly. Strange stars were shining through +the bars of his window. He thought there was someone stealthily looking +at him from beyond the bars, and sleepily realized that it would take as +great skill to fly in silence as to walk without noise. But he saw no +one. He slept again and dreamed it was Elje at the window, touching the +bars with light fingertips as she smiled in at him in the starlight, her +face dabbled with blood.</p> + +<p>For two weeks he saw no one but Gerd. The pale eyes in the dark face +became very familiar to him, and gradually the deep voice became +familiar and understandable too. Gerd was a patient and indefatigable +teacher, and the language was a simple one, made for a simple culture. +Indeed, Kern learned it so rapidly that he began to catch Gerd’s +suspicious sidelong glances, and once, from his door, overheard a +conversation on the stair outside when Gerd and Elje met.</p> + +<p>“I think he may be a spy,” the hunchback’s deep guttural said.</p> + +<p>Elje laughed. “A spy who doesn’t speak our language?”</p> + +<p>“He learns it too readily. I wonder, Elje—The Mountain is cunning.”</p> + +<p>“Hush,” was all she answered. But Kern thereafter was careful to pretend +he knew less of the language than he really did.</p> + +<p>The Mountain. He thought of that in the long hours when he was alone. A +mountain, strange of shape, the color of clouds, towering halfway up the +heavens. It was more than inert matter, if these winged people spoke of +it with that hush in their voices.</p> + +<p>For a fortnight he waited and listened and learned. Once more, in the +night, with the nameless stars looking in at the window, he felt that +inexplicable stirring of, alien life deep within him, and was +frightened. It passed quickly, and was gone too fast for him to put any +name to it, or to remember it clearly afterward. Mutation? Continuing +change, in some unguessable form? He would not think of it.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>On the fourteenth night, the Dream came.</p> + +<p>He had not thought very much about Bruce Hallam. Kua and the others. +Subconsciously, he did not want to. This was his world and the other +mutants were actually intruders, false notes in the harmony. Danger he +might find here, even death, but it was a winged world, and his own.</p> + +<p>There were dreams at night. Voices whispering, whose tones he +half-recognized and would not allow himself to remember when he awoke. +Something was searching for his soul.</p> + +<p>Before that final contact on the fourteenth night, he had eavesdropped +enough on other conversations held on the stairs between Gerd and Elje +to understand a little of what went on around him.</p> + +<p>Gerd was urging that they leave the town and return somewhere, and Elje +was adamant.</p> + +<p>“There’s no danger yet.”</p> + +<p>“There is danger whenever we’re away from the eyrie. Not even the +Mountain can guide enemies through the poison winds. Our safety has +always been a quick raid, Elje, and then back to the eyrie. But to stay +here, gorging ourselves—in a <i>town</i>—is madness.”</p> + +<p>“I like the comfort here,” Elje said naively. “It’s been a long time +since I’ve eaten and drunk so well, and slept on such a bed.”</p> + +<p>“You’ll sleep on a harder bed soon, then,” Gerd said dourly. “The towns +will gather. They must know already that we’re here.”</p> + +<p>“Are we afraid of the townsmen?”</p> + +<p>“When the Mountain walks—” the hunchback said, and left the sentence +unfinished.</p> + +<p>Elje’s laughter rang false.</p> + +<p>That night, Kern felt seeking fingers try again the doors of his mind, +and this time his subconscious resistance could not keep them out. He +recognized the mind behind that seeking—the infinitely sad, infinitely +wise mind of the mutant Byrna, with the lovely voice and the pale, +unlovely face.</p> + +<p>For a moment he floundered, lost in the depths of that intelligence so +much more fathomless than his own. For a moment timeless sorrow washed +him like the waters of the sea. Then he found himself again, and was +looking, somehow, through new and different eyes, into a grassy hollow +filled with starlight. Into Kua’s beautiful honey-colored face and her +great single eye. Into Sam Brewster’s veiled gaze.</p> + +<p>Dimly he groped for Bruce Hallam, who had opened the door for them all. +Bruce was missing. And as for Byrna—it was Byrna’s eyes through which +he saw them. Her mind, gripping his like the clasp of hands, cupping his +like a bowl of still water. Soundlessly through space came a voice. +Kua’s voice.</p> + +<p>“Byrna, have you found him?”</p> + +<p>“I think—yes. Kern! Kern!”</p> + +<p>Without words, he answered them.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Kua. Yes, Byrna. I’m here.”</p> + +<p>There was resentment in Kua’s voice—the voice of her mind, for no words +were spoken in this curious seance. Kern found time to wonder briefly if +Byrna had always possessed this strange ability to bridge distances, or +if it had burgeoned in her here as something struggled in himself for +new being.</p> + +<p>“We’ve been trying a long time, Kern,” Kua said coldly. “You were hard +to reach.”</p> + +<p>“I—I wasn’t sure you’d be here any longer.”</p> + +<p>“You thought we’d have gone on to other worlds. Well, we would have, if +we could. But Bruce was hurt. In the storm.”</p> + +<p>“Badly?”</p> + +<p>She hesitated. “We—can’t be sure. Look.”</p> + +<p>Through Byrna’s eyes Kern saw Bruce Hallam’s motionless figure, lying +silent on a bed of boughs. He looked oddly pale, almost ivory in color. +His breathing was nearly imperceptible. And Byrna’s mind, groping +through the void for his, found only a strange, dim spinning—something +too far away and too abstract for the normal mind to grasp. She touched +it briefly—and it spun out of contact and was gone.</p> + +<p>“A trance?” Kua said. “We don’t know, yet. But we’ve used Byrna’s vision +and learned a little about this world. How much do you know, Kern?”</p> + +<p>Kern told them then, with Byrna’s tongue, too absorbed in the needs of +the moment to realize fully what a strange meeting this was of more than +human minds, over unguessed distances of alien land. He told them what +he knew, what he had guessed from overheard conversations—not much, but +a general picture.</p> + +<p>“The planet’s mostly ocean. A small continent, about the size of +Australia, I think. City-states all over it. Elje’s band are outlaws. +They have a hideout somewhere, and they raid the towns. They seem—well, +scornful of the townspeople, and a little afraid, too. I can’t quite +understand that.”</p> + +<p>“This—Gerd? He spoke of a Mountain?” Kua said.</p> + +<p>“Yes. Something about—when the Mountain walks.”</p> + +<p>“You know the Mountain,” Kua said. “The storm came from there. Those +vortices of light and energy rose out of it.”</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Kern remembered the spindles of blinding brilliance that strode across +the land in the maelstrom of the winds. “We don’t understand much of it +yet,” Kua was saying in a troubled tone. “We know there’s danger +connected with that Mountain. I think there is life there, something we +don’t know about. Something that probably couldn’t have developed on +Earth. The conditions could have been too alien. But here anything is +possible.”</p> + +<p>Kern felt the thought forming in his brain—in Byrna’s brain.</p> + +<p>“Life? Intelligent life? What do you know about it?”</p> + +<p>“Maybe not life as we understand the word. Call it a—force. No, it’s +more tangible than that. I don’t know—” The thought-voice of Kua +faltered. “Dangerous. We may learn more of it, if we live. This much +we’ve seen, though, through Byrna’s vision, and mine. We’ve sensed +forces reaching out from the Mountain, into the minds of men. The minds +of the winged townspeople. Assembling them for war.” She hesitated. +“Kern, do you know they’re on their way now, to your town, where the +outlaws are?”</p> + +<p>He was instantly alert.</p> + +<p>“Now? From where? How soon can they get here?”</p> + +<p>“I’m not sure. They aren’t in my sight yet—over the horizon, that is. +Byrna, tell him.”</p> + +<p>The mind that held Kern’s stirred, and through it he saw as through a +haze rank upon rank of winged beings flying with steady beasts of their +pinions over a dark night-time terrain. Byrna’s thought murmured,</p> + +<p>“You see, I can’t tell how far. It’s new, this clairvoyance since we +came from Earth. I could always see but not so clearly, and I never +could show others what was in my mind. So I only know these men are +flying against your village.”</p> + +<p>“And the force of men—the Mountain, I think, has armed them somehow,” +Kua put in. “Byrna has seen the weapons they carry. You’d better warn +your friends—your jailers or whatever they are. Otherwise you may be +caught in the middle of a fight.”</p> + +<p>“I will.” Kern’s mind was full now of something new. “You say you’ve +developed this clairvoyance since the time when you came here, Byrna. +Has it happened to the others, too?”</p> + +<p>“To me, maybe, a little,” Kua said slowly. “A sharpening of focus, not +much more than that. To Sam—” Her thought form glanced sidewise to Sam +Brewster, sitting silent, with the hood of his secondary lids drawn over +his terrible eyes, “—I think nothing’s happened. He can’t join our talk +now, you see. Byrna’s mind can’t reach into his at all. We’ll have to +tell him all that’s been said, later. And Bruce.” She shrugged. “Perhaps +the winged people will tell you how we can help him. The edge of one of +the vortices caught him, and he’s been like this ever since. We’d hoped +to go on, you know, Kern, to find our own worlds as you—perhaps—have +found yours. But without Bruce, we’re helpless.”</p> + +<p>Kern was aware of a tightening and strengthening of his own mind as a +problem at last came before him that must be met. Until now he had been +almost in a trance of wonder and delight and dismay at the new things of +this new, winged world. But the time for lassitude was over. He gathered +his thoughts for speech, but Kua’s voice cut his beginning phrases +short.</p> + +<p>“Kern, there’s danger in the Mountain. The—thing—whatever it is, knows +we’re here. It lives in the Mountain, or perhaps it <i>is</i> the Mountain. +But Byrna has sensed hatred from it. Malevolence.”</p> + +<p>There was a sudden harshness to her thought.</p> + +<p>“Kern, you’re a soft fool!” Kua said. “Did you think you could reach +Paradise without earning it? Whether you help us or not, you’ve got to +face danger before you’ll find your place in this world, or any other. I +don’t think you can manage without us. And we need your help, too. +Together, we may still lose the battle. Separately, there’s no hope for +any of us. We <i>know</i>! The Mountain may be a mutation as far beyond us as +we are beyond the animals. But we’ve got to fight.”</p> + +<p>Her voice blurred suddenly, faded to a thin drone. The starlit hill and +the faces before him swirled and melted in Kern’s sleeping sight. He +struggled for a moment against intangible danger—something formless and +full of strong malevolence. He saw—what was it? A vast, coiling +Something like a ribbon of fire, moving lazily in darkness and aware of +him—terribly aware.</p> + +<p>Far off in the void he felt the quiver of fright in a mind he +knew—Byrna’s mind. But he lost the contact instantly, and then someone +was shaking him by the shoulder and saying something in insistent, +guttural tones.</p> + +<p>He opened his eyes.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p class="ph1">CHAPTER IV</p> + +<p class="ph2"><i>Evil Mountain</i></p> + + +<p>In his vision, the coiling flame had left so brilliant an image upon his +eyelids that for an instant he could see nothing but the blue-green scar +of after-sight swimming upon his vision. Then that faded and he was +staring up into Gerd’s darkly handsome young face.</p> + +<p>Kern struggled to sit up, beating his wings a little to help him rise. +The gust stirred Kern’s red hair and sent motes dancing in the beam of +sunlight falling across the bed. Kern in the aftermath of amazement and +terror forgot to dissemble his knowledge of the winged men’s tongue. The +simple syllables raced off his lips.</p> + +<p>“Gerd, Gerd, you’ve got to listen to me! I’ve been finding out things I +didn’t suspect until now. Let me up. The townspeople are coming!”</p> + +<p>Gerd put a hard palm against his chest.</p> + +<p>“Not so fast. You seem to have learned our language in your sleep. No, +stay there.” His voice rose. “Elje!”</p> + +<p>She was a moment or two in coming, and Gerd stood back with his hand on +his dagger and his pale, suspicious eyes unswerving as he watched Kern. +When Elje came, bright-faced in the morning sun, her ashen braids wound +in a coronet that glistened against the high arch of her wings, he spoke +without taking his eyes from Kern.</p> + +<p>“Our guest awoke this morning with a strangely fluent knowledge of +speech. I told you before of the danger from spies, Elje.”</p> + +<p>“All right, I do know more of your language than I pretended,” Kern +admitted. “I just learned it faster than you believed, that’s all. That +doesn’t matter now. Do you know the townspeople are coming to attack?”</p> + +<p>Gerd bent forward swiftly, half-open wings hovering above him in the +sunlight.</p> + +<p>“How do you know that? You <i>are</i> a spy!”</p> + +<p>“Let him talk, Gerd,” Elje said. “Let him talk.”</p> + +<p>Kern talked....</p> + +<p>In the end, he could see that they did not yet fully trust him. It was +not surprising, for the tale would have bewildered anyone. But the +prospect of an advancing army was enough to divide their thoughts.</p> + +<p>“If I were a spy, would I warn you they were coming?” Kern demanded, +seeing their dubious glances fixed on him at the end of his story.</p> + +<p>“It isn’t the army you’d be spying for,” Gerd said reluctantly.</p> + +<p>“Your other world—Earth,” Elje murmured, her eyes searching Kern’s. “If +that were true, it could explain some things. But we know of no other +worlds.”</p> + +<p>Briefly Kern thought that it might be easier for one of Elje’s culture +to believe in the existence of other worlds than for a denizen of some +more sophisticated civilization. The people of this winged race had not +yet closed their minds to all they could not see. It was not a race so +sure of its own omnipotence that it denied all unfamiliar things +existence.</p> + +<p>“How could I hurt you now?” Kern said. “Why should I warn you, if I were +on their side?”</p> + +<p>“It’s the Mountain,” Elje said surprisingly. “Why do you suppose we kept +you here in this bare room, without furnishings, without anything you +could build into a weapon? Or do you know?”</p> + +<p>Bewildered, he shook his head.</p> + +<p>“We were not sure if you were a slave to the Mountain. If you were, a +coil of wire, a bit of iron—anything—would have been dangerous to us +in your hands.” Her eyes were questioning.</p> + +<p>Again Kern shook his head. Gerd began to speak, his voice faintly +derisive.</p> + +<p>“A long story and an evil one. Perhaps you know it. At any rate, we’re +the only free people in this world. Oh, there may be a few others, but +not many, and they don’t live long. The Mountain is jealous of its +slaves. Aside from our group, all the rest of mankind belongs to the +Mountain. All!”</p> + +<p>“This Mountain?” Kern said. “What is it?”</p> + +<p>Gerd shrugged his red wings.</p> + +<p>“Who knows? Demon—god. If we ever had a history, no one knows it now. +No legend goes back beyond the coming of the Mountain. We only know that +it has always been there, and from it, whispers float out to men in +their sleep, and they become slaves to the whisper. Something happens in +their minds. For the most part they live as they choose, in their +cities. But sometimes that voice comes again, and then they’re mindless, +doing as the Mountain bids them.”</p> + +<p>“We don’t know what the Mountain is,” Elje said. “But we know that it’s +intelligent. It can guide men’s hands to make weapons, when there’s a +need for weapons. And it can send out storms, such as the one in which +we found you. Not for a long, long while has there been a storm out of +the Mountain. If you’re not a spy, how do you explain the fact that your +coming and the storm happened in the same hour?”</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>He shrugged. About that, he also was puzzled.</p> + +<p>“I wish I knew. But I’ll find out, if any human can. Do you mean the +army that’s coming against you is sent by the Mountain? Why?”</p> + +<p>“As long as we remain free, the Mountain will try to enslave us,” Elje +said. “And we’ll fight the townsmen for the things we need, since we +don’t dare fight the Mountain. We’ve stayed too long in this +village—yes, Gerd, I know! We’ll return to the eyrie now. If an army of +the townsfolk is coming, they’ll have weapons the Mountain made them +build, and the weapons will be dangerous, whatever they may be this +time.”</p> + +<p>“The prisoner may know all this already,” Gerd said dourly. “That +doesn’t matter. But it will matter if we take him to the eyrie. He could +lead our enemies there, Elje.”</p> + +<p>“Through the poison winds?” But Elje drew in her lower lip thoughtfully. +“He tells a mad story, Gerd. I know that. Could it be true?”</p> + +<p>“Well, what then?”</p> + +<p>“These companions he spoke of. They sound like gods. And they talked of +fighting against the Mountain.”</p> + +<p>“Fight against the stars,” Gerd said and laughed. “But not the Mountain. +Not even gods could win such a war.”</p> + +<p>“They aren’t gods,” Kern said. “But they have powers none of us know. I +think our coming marks a turning place in the history of your race, +Elje—Gerd. You can kill us or abandon us and go on as you always have, +or you can believe me and help us, and fight this time with a chance of +winning. Will you do it?”</p> + +<p>Elje was silent for a moment. Then she laughed and stood up suddenly +with a flutter of her wings.</p> + +<p>“I’ll go along with you and talk to your friends,” she said. “If they’re +as you say—yes, Kern, I’ll believe you. For the Mountain never has +changed human flesh. It can touch our minds, but not our bodies. I think +in the beginning were men whose brains had some weakness that let the +whisper come in, and those men were armed by the Mountain and killed +their fellows, until only we outlaws remained.</p> + +<p>“Our minds over the generations have been bred to resist invasion as the +townspeople were bred to welcome it. I think—I know—if the Mountain +could reach into our bodies and make that tiny change that would open +our mind to it, then it would win. But it can’t. It can’t alter our +bodies except by killing us. If I see with my own eyes these companions +of Kern’s, I’ll know there is a power greater than the Mountain. And +we’ll fight together, Kern!”</p> + +<p>A little later, floating high above the nest of hills which cradled the +village, Kern rocked on spread wings and pressed his eyes tightly shut, +thinking with all the strength of his mind:</p> + +<p>“Byrna, Byrna! Answer me, Byrna! Help me find you. Byrna, do you hear?”</p> + +<p>Silence, except for the small noises drifting up from far below, distant +shouts as Elje’s winged band collected in haste the loot they would take +with them to their eyrie. Kern’s vision swam with the flecked clouds of +sunlight on closed lids. Deliberately he blanked his mind to receive an +answer. None came.</p> + +<p>“Byrna! There may not be time to waste. Byrna, Kua, answer me!”</p> + +<p>In his eagerness and impatience he remembered again what he had glimpsed +dimly through Byrna’s memory, the ranks of armed fliers moving through +the night on steadily beating wings toward the village. Perhaps from so +far away they would not arrive for many hours—perhaps so near that the +cloud on the horizon now was not mist, but armed men....</p> + +<p>“Byrna! Do you hear me?”</p> + +<p>“<i>Kern!</i>” The answer he sought came with sharp impact, like a blow in +the face. As if she were almost at his side and speaking with dreadful +violence. He caught terror in the contact of minds, cold, controlled +terror that chilled him so the sunny air turned suddenly icy around him. +He knew instantly that she had heard him before, had been hedging for +just the right contact so that there need be no wasted moments of +groping and finding focus upon one another. He caught the hard impact +and the terror and the urgency in the moment their minds met. Then her +thoughts tumbled into his mind:</p> + +<p>“Kern! Hurry! No time to waste. Do you see the grove of blooming trees +left on the horizon? Come! Make new contact there.”</p> + +<p>She blanked as suddenly as she had entered his mind. And because +thoughts are so infinitely more rapid than words she had conveyed those +four ideas—identification, haste, locality and a promise of future +contact—in almost no lapse of time at all. But in that brief instant +while their minds did meet, something happened.</p> + +<p>Kern rocked on shaken wings as if a blow had jolted him. He snatched his +mind back from the brief touch with Byrna’s quickly, quickly, scorched +with the incandescent hatred that had blazed in the void between them. +For the coiled ribbon of fire which had swum so strangely through +nothingness when he woke from his clairvoyant dream was awake and alive +now, and terribly avid.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>It had been waiting, he knew in the instant while his mind leaped back +in recoil from that burning contact. It had found them as he waked +slowly from the long, leisured conversation in the seance.</p> + +<p>Since that moment it had lain, coiled, in waiting. <i>It?</i></p> + +<p>Folding his wings, he dropped forward in a long, breathtaking dive, the +air screaming past his ears. From a tiled rooftop far below, he saw two +figures rise, one on pale wings, one on glossy red. He spread his own +pinions then, exulting in the strain on his chest-muscles when the broad +surfaces checked his dive, bore him up in a steep arc that made the air +feel warm and solid as he carved a long curve through it.</p> + +<p>“That way,” he told Elje, pointing, when she rose within hearing. “We’ll +have to hurry. There’s something wrong. I think perhaps the Mountain, or +Something in the Mountain, knows we’re here.”</p> + +<p>Elje’s clear bright color blanched in the sunlight. Behind her, Gerd’s +eyes flashed sideward in the dark face, suspicious, mistrusting still.</p> + +<p>“Why do you say that?”</p> + +<p>Kern told them as they flew, the grove of blossoming trees on the +horizon seeming to slip rapidly down the edge of the skyline and draw +nearer far below. It was not easy to talk and fly. Kern’s breath began +to come fast, and his chest and wings ached with the speed, after so +many days of inactivity. When he finished speaking there was silence.</p> + +<p>“The eyrie lies that way,” Elje said presently, in a controlled voice. +She pointed right with a smooth bare arm. “I’ve sent most of the men on +with our loot. Gerd chose twenty to follow us. You don’t know where or +how far the Mountain’s men are?”</p> + +<p>Kern shook his head. “Maybe I can find out at the next meeting with +Byrna.”</p> + +<p>He glanced behind them and saw the little band of Elje’s bodyguard +flying a few minutes in their rear, big men all of them, with stolid, +hard-eyed faces. Several carried light wicker squares looped up with +straps.</p> + +<p>“Seats for your friends, Kern,” Elje explained. “We need them when we +carry our young people or our old ones, who no longer have the power to +fly.” Her face darkened, as Kern knew their faces always did when the +winged people thought of the days in which they would no longer travel +the lanes of air.</p> + +<p>It occurred to him then that their battles might be ferocious things, +fought by men as fanatic in their own way as those who fought on Earth +for entry into an imagined paradise. For these men fought their own old +age as surely as they fought an enemy. No one who has once spread wings +upon the air-currents willingly faces a life without wings.</p> + +<p>The blooming grove was beneath them now.</p> + +<p>“If you make contact this time with—it—again, Kern, I think <i>it</i> will +know more easily where to direct its men,” Elje said. “There is great +danger. Will you let this meeting with your friends go for awhile? You +may be doing them harm as well as us. The army of the Mountain may be +very near now.”</p> + +<p>Kern hesitated. He had been dreading with every wingbeat the moment when +he must open his mind again to that coiled and scorching malevolence. +For an instant he toyed with the idea of postponing searching for +Byrna’s mind, but he knew it would only mean putting off the inevitable. +Grimly he shook his head.</p> + +<p>“Byrna!” he called out mentally. “Byrna, what next?”</p> + +<p>As before, for long moments there was no answer. Then briefly, like a +gasp, he caught the touch of Byrna’s mind—only briefly and very +incoherently, because between them in the instant of contact flashed the +blinding hatred of the—the interloper. Only when their minds touched, +apparently, could the white-hot malevolence reach them, but it lay +ambushed and ready, and this time it seemed to flare out between them +almost before Byrna’s voice could speak.</p> + +<p>Reeling back, shaken and stunned by the thing between them, Kern caught +only a ragged thought or two from Byrna’s mind.</p> + +<p>“Three hills—hurry—army!”</p> + +<p>That was all that got through. For an instant the void flamed with the +blankness of sheer hatred. Then Kern opened his eyes and caught himself +on reeling wings. Elje and Gerd watched him without speaking as he +controlled his shaken faculties with a great effort. Elje was white with +terror, but on Gerd’s face suspicion was still predominant.</p> + +<p>Three hills in a shadowy row cut the horizon line. Kern gestured toward +them and in silence the little group flew on. If Byrna’s gasp of +“—army—” meant the enemy were nearly upon them, there was nothing to +do except fly as they had been flying, in the hope of reaching the +mutants before disaster overtook them all.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p class="ph1">CHAPTER V</p> + +<p class="ph2"><i>Pursuit</i></p> + + +<p>The three hills were not quite below them, and Kern was watching the +skyline anxiously for signs of the winged army which was moving against +them, when something from below flashed across his eyes. He blinked and +looked down. From a clump of trees the light-beam flashed again, +dazzlingly, from a tiny point of brilliance. Then a small figure stepped +out from the shelter of the branches, waving at him.</p> + +<p>It was Kua. Even from this height he could see the reflected light in +twin points on the sun-glasses she held in one hand. She had signalled +him by the heliograph with the only thing they had for reflecting light.</p> + +<p>Pointing downward, he let one wing tilt high and came about in a long +glide, lying at full length upon the air with his heels higher than his +head. The ground swung, like water in a cup and Kua seemed to rush +upward to meet him as the swift dive cut the space between them.</p> + +<p>The others were with her by the time Kern had put his feet to the grass. +He was conscious, as always, of a little shock of memory renewed when he +met again Kua’s great single gaze from the center of her forehead. +Byrna, hurrying to meet him, lifted a pale, drawn little face.</p> + +<p>“Kern!” she cried in a voice that was pure music. And he thought there +was in her eyes, and in Kua’s, a subtle something that was new to him. +Mutation had gone on, perhaps, with them as with him, a step beyond +Earthly mutation. Their powers were strengthened, so that, in part, they +both were strangers to him.</p> + +<p>Sam Brewster came out smiling and extending his hand, and Kern took it +with the little inward quailing he had always felt before Sam, the +instinctive averting of his gaze from Sam’s veiled eyes. Beyond Sam’s +shoulder he saw Bruce Hallam lying motionless, as if he had not stirred +since they laid him on the pallet of boughs. His face was ivory-hard and +as withdrawn from living as the face of a statue that had never known +life.</p> + +<p>Everything was confused for a few moments. Byrna was crying, “Hurry, +hurry!” and Kua’s distance-piercing glance kept sweeping the horizon as +the winged people swooped to the ground behind Kern and came forward +swiftly, wings half open to speed their hurrying feet.</p> + +<p>Kern heard Elje’s little gasp of incredulity and dismay when Kua’s blue +central eye turned upon the newcomers, but the winged girl was too good +a commander to waste time after that first glance which confirmed what +Kern had told her.</p> + +<p>In a matter of seconds they were in the air.</p> + +<p>Bruce Hallam, still motionless in his mysterious slumber, had been swung +on a wicker carrier between two burly fliers. The other three mutants, +in their seats between winged bearers, scarcely had time for amazement +or uncertainty as they were wafted aloft.</p> + +<p>Kern, flying with the rest over the rolling hilltops with the vast glass +cloud of the Mountain shadowing the horizon, timed his flight to the +pace of the slowest so that he might talk in midair with the wingless +people in the carriers. And close beside him Elje and Gerd hovered, +watching almost jealously every expression on the faces of the speakers.</p> + +<p>“What do they say, Kern?” Elje asked breathlessly, timing her words to +the rhythm of her wings. “Are—are you sure these people are human? I +never saw such—such—creatures. Gerd, after all could they be gods?”</p> + +<p>Gerd laughed shortly, but there was uneasiness in his voice.</p> + +<p>“Let them talk. Is the enemy near yet? Ask them, Kern.”</p> + +<p>“Near, I think,” Byrna said. She was clutching the straps of her swaying +chair with both tiny hands and her incredibly musical voice might have +been crooning a song instead of shaping the syllables of terror which +echoed the look in her eyes. “Kern, I don’t dare—look—for them any +more! You saw what happened! Kern, tell me what it was <i>you</i> saw.”</p> + +<p>“I? Fire, I think. A coiling ribbon of it—and hate. I could almost see +the hate!”</p> + +<p>“The Mountain,” Byrna said, her eyes turning automatically toward the +great cloud hanging ominously in the sky. “What do you know about it, +Kern? Have these people told you?”</p> + +<p>Briefly he gave her the story Elje had recounted.</p> + +<p>“It has never yet been able to change people physically, or there +wouldn’t be any outlaws left,” he finished. “At least, so Elje thinks. +Byrna, I wonder if it could change us? We’re malleable—abnormally +malleable. I—”</p> + +<p>He hesitated. Not even to Byrna did he yet want to speak of the deep, +mysterious stirrings he had felt in his own flesh.</p> + +<p>“You think you and Kua may have felt something like a changing in +yourselves?”</p> + +<p>Byrna nodded, her eyes wide and distressed. “We can’t tell how much, +yet. Maybe the Mountain is the cause of it.”</p> + +<p>Unexpectedly Sam Brewster, swinging between his carriers above Byrna, +leaned forward.</p> + +<p>“The Mountain’s where the answer is, Kern. I don’t think we’ll be safe +until we’ve explored it.”</p> + +<p>“Safe!” Kern said grimly. “If you’d seen what I have, you’d never talk +that way.”</p> + +<p>“It won’t matter,” Kua called from a little way ahead, twisting in her +seat to send a piercing blue gaze back at them. “Look! They’re coming!”</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Kern’s sharp exclamation as he banked swiftly and turned to follow her +pointing finger was explanation enough to Elje and Gerd what was +happening. A shiver of excitement ran through the whole flying group, a +tightening of muscle and mind. For an instant their pace slackened, +simultaneously, without signal, almost as a flight of birds wheels +simultaneously at no perceptible message.</p> + +<p>There was nothing visible on the horizon where Kua pointed.</p> + +<p>“I can see the first of them—a long line,” she said. “They’re carrying +something, but I’m not sure what it is. Round things—nets of +something shining, like thin wire. Light’s flashing from it when the sun +hits them.”</p> + +<p>Rapidly Kern told Elje.</p> + +<p>“New weapons,” she said. “I expected that. I wonder—well, we’ll know +soon enough.” She beat her wings together and soared suddenly above the +group, looking down with speculative eyes.</p> + +<p>“We’re going too slowly. Kern.” She flashed a glance at him. “This other +friend of yours, the injured one. He’s heavy. He slows us. And he takes +two men out of the fight if we’re caught. I think—” She made an +expressive downward gesture.</p> + +<p>“No!” Kern said quickly. “He’s the most powerful of us all, if we can +rouse him.”</p> + +<p>“Well, he must be first to fall, if the need comes,” Elje said. “But +we’ll wait.” She called commands to the group flying before them, and +eight men wheeled in the air and swung back. Kern watched them slip +smoothly, without a break in their wing-beats, into the harness of the +wicker carriers, relieving those who had borne the burden this far.</p> + +<p>“Now, quickly!” Elje said. “The eyrie!”</p> + +<p>They were almost over the jagged hills where the outlaws’ refuge lay, +when the first ranks of the enemy swept over the skyline and saw them. +The fugitives had flown low, taking advantage of every line of hills and +trees for cover, and despite their burden they flew fast, their pace +nearly matching that of the pursuers because of the all-night flight the +enemy had made.</p> + +<p>But they had not yet reached shelter when the sound of a horn, clear and +high, fell through the sunny air, and after it, drowning out the thin, +sweet notes, the roar of angry men sighting their prey.</p> + +<p>Elje was very calm.</p> + +<p>“Gerd,” she said. “You’ll lead the way in?”</p> + +<p>“No!” he growled. “Let one of the captains go. I feel like a fight.”</p> + +<p>“Stay, then,” Elje answered.</p> + +<p>She called a command to a man in the front rank of her little party. +They were flying as fast as wing could carry them toward a gap between +two jagged, dark hills through which Kern could see a wilderness of +tortured rock beyond. It looked volcanic in origin, and waves of +intermittent heat and strange metallic odors drifted to them on the wind +as they approached.</p> + +<p>“There are poisonous currents in these hills,” Elje told Kern as they +swept forward. “Many of us died before we learned the way through them. +Now we have a shelter where no one can follow us who hasn’t a guide.”</p> + +<p>Abruptly she ceased to speak. Kern turned a startled glance and saw her +reel in midair, throwing back her head so that the clear line of her +throat was white and taut against the blue sky. Then, without a word, +suddenly she crumpled in full flight. An instant longer her wings +sustained her and she hung limp from the spread pinions. Then they too +folded back and she dropped like a stone.</p> + +<p>Time stopped for Kern. Everything stood still, the hills with their +floating vapors, the flying troupe, the breeze halted among the trees +below. He could see the first ranks of the oncoming enemy halted too and +hanging motionless in space, their shouts nothing but a buzz in his +ears.</p> + +<p>He saw too, very clearly, the great ovals of the weapons they carried, +and the light that whirled in intricate, thin patterns like wires of +brilliance within the ovals. He saw the cone of light reach out from the +nearest oval and touch another of the fugitive fliers.</p> + +<p>It had happened in an instant, and it was over. Kern dived for Elje’s +falling body almost before she had ceased to speak, swung under her, +caught her across his arms in a welter of slack wings and loosened hair.</p> + +<p>Gerd’s harsh voice was shouting orders above him. By the time Kern had +labored up to their level with his burden he saw the newly-appointed +guide of the winged men vanishing into the cleft between the hills, +leading two by two the harnessed pairs who carried the mutants.</p> + +<p>The roar of savage voices behind them filled the shaken air, and the +roar of countless wings beating in ranks as the enemy swooped upon them. +They were very near now—so near Kern could see the distorted, shouting +faces and the flash of knives in the hands of the foremost.</p> + +<p>It was a strange and eerie thing to realize that no human hatred burned +behind the angry faces, but the fiery, venomed malignancy which was the +Mountain. Or did this oncoming rabble know why it fought? Did they think +this fury their own emotion, not a monstrously inspired rage that turned +them to automatons?</p> + +<p>A cone of light swung past Kern, numbing his wing-tip, and touched a +fast-flying man in front of him between the wings. The man jolted +convulsively, arched backward and then crumpled to hang for an instant +motionless on the momentum of his own flight. The wings folded as Elje’s +had done, and the man dropped downward out of sight.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Gerd was gesturing Kern frantically on. The hunchback hovered on red +pinions recklessly in full view of the enemy, knives flashing in each +hand, ready to engage whoever came within reach of his blades. He was +shouting hoarse orders scarcely audible above the rushing thunder of the +enemies’ wings and their voices bellowing for blood.</p> + +<p>The last of the little band was pouring through the hill-cleft now, Kern +almost the last of all with his limp burden hanging across his arms. The +air was full of twisting vapors and he could not see very clearly as he +swept closer to the hills. It was, curiously, a nightmare sensation, +half-blindness from the poison vapors and half-deafness from the roar of +wings and voices. He could only follow the back of the man ahead, dimly +seen through the mists. Elje hung motionless in his arms, her trailing +wings fluttering a little to the measured beat of his own.</p> + +<p>The last thing he saw as he glanced back was Gerd poised above the cleft +to follow him in, ready to fight a rear-guard action if need be. And +then, all in one brief glance between drifts of vapor, Kern’s heart +contracted as he saw two more winged shapes beating desperately toward +him through the dimness, two men flying tandem with a harnessed burden +between them.</p> + +<p>It was Bruce Hallam’s bearers. And Elje had been right. Bruce’s weight +was too great for the flying men to carry fast enough. Evidently they +had been left too far behind to follow the other bearers in and had only +now made up the distance which would save them.</p> + +<p>Or would it save them?</p> + +<p>In spite of himself, Kern tilted his wings and hesitated in the air, +twisting his head to watch. He saw Gerd gesturing savagely to hurry them +in—heard the hunchback’s deep howl.</p> + +<p>“Drop him!” Gerd howled. “Drop him and come on!”</p> + +<p>But before they could obey, a cone of white fire swept silently through +the coiling fog and enveloped bearers and burden alike in a bath of +radiance.</p> + +<p>There was no sound, except for the all-encompassing uproar of the +pursuit. In silence the doomed fliers stiffened and glided an instant +still carrying their fatal weight between them—and then dropped.</p> + +<p>The three of them vanished together into the engulfing mists.</p> + +<p>Kern flew on with Elje.</p> + +<p>He labored on leaden wings through the fog. Whiffs of burning vapor +stung in his nostrils and set his pumping lungs on fire. Elje was an +almost unbearable weight in his arms.</p> + +<p>Coughing, choking, ready to think every wing-beat his last, he stumbled +through the air in the wake of the man before him, his only guide +through this aerial labyrinth of poison. Hot updrafts caught him and +tossed him aloft, cross-currents fetid with strangling vapors sent him +into perilous side-slips toward the jagged black peaks dangerously near. +At this speed he knew he could not survive the slightest contact with +those knife-edged rocks.</p> + +<p>And Bruce’s loss was a heavier burden to bear than even Elje’s dead +weight. For only Bruce could have opened the doors for the rest to +escape into worlds of their own. And upon Bruce’s uncanny skill he had +pinned his highest hopes of freeing this world from its enemy.</p> + +<p>Strangling, choking, muscles aching from the strain of long flight, he +reeled on in the wake of the flying outlaws.</p> + +<p>The end of the ordeal came without warning. One moment he was flying +blindly through the updrafts and the smoke, the next he found himself +floating in clear still air over what seemed a great lip of rock. Winged +men below gestured him down and he dropped slowly on aching wings and +let his feet touch the rock gingerly.</p> + +<p>Elje coughed in his arms as he shifted weight from wings to feet. +Electrified, he looked down, forgetting everything else in this new +surprise. He had been certain she was dead or dying. She opened her +eyes, looked at him blindly, and let the lashes flutter down again. But +at least she was still alive.</p> + +<p>The men of her band closed around them then and one of them took Elje +from his arms. Kern looked around curiously as he followed Elje’s bearer +across the rock.</p> + +<p>A cavern lifted its high arched entrance before them, black rock without +and within, and the lip of rock thrust out before it, black too. Above +the platform, which must have been two hundred feet across, the air was +still and no poisonous vapors swirled, but they still rose all around +the edges of the rock and leaned together high above like a tent roof +that blotted out the sky except for occasional rifts far overhead. It +was like a painter’s concept of Hades, even to the winged men with the +hard, violent faces swarming out to meet the newcomers.</p> + +<p>The mutants were among them. Kern told them shortly of Bruce’s loss. He +did not want to dwell on it, for it seemed a death-blow to the hopes of +the others and perhaps to his own, too, if this world was ever to be +peopled by any but automatons.</p> + +<p>None of the mutants spoke after he had told them. The loss was a +stunning one and Byrna’s sad, small face grew sadder and very pale, +while Kua’s great blue eye filled with tears as she turned away. Sam +Brewster muttered something under his breath and for an instant Kern saw +the veiling secondary lids twitch across his eyes, as they always +twitched when Sam was angry, in involuntary preparation to draw back.</p> + +<p>“Sam!” Kern said sharply. Sam grimaced and turned away too, closing the +secondary lids again.</p> + +<p>Inside the cavern, on a straw mattress under a stretched crimson tent, +Elje was lying. A fire burned in a crude hood of rocks, its heat cupped +in the red tent and reflected back again upon the bed. Someone was +holding a bowl of steaming liquid to her lips as Kern came up.</p> + +<p>Kern watched her drain it slowly. When she lay back upon the cushions +her eyes remained open and she looked around the circle of watching men +with understanding dawning in her face. Color came back into it after +awhile, and then she coughed again and sat up.</p> + +<p>“All right,” she said. “I’m better. What happened?”</p> + +<p>Kern told her.</p> + +<p>“Gerd?” she asked when he had finished. The men looked at one another +inquiringly. A growl of dissent went through the cavern. No one had seen +him. Someone rose on heavy wings and flapped out under the dome to +search the platform outside. Gerd was not to be found. Elje’s face +darkened.</p> + +<p>“We could afford to lose twenty men better than Gerd,” she said. “You +say he was last behind you, Kern? Didn’t you hear any fighting as you +came in?”</p> + +<p>Kern shook his head. “I couldn’t tell. I thought he was following me. +The last I saw was Bruce and his carriers going down.”</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Elje bit her lip. “I’m sorry. We’ll miss him. He was one of the bravest +and most loyal of us all. He’s been with us only a year, but I’d come to +depend more on his judgment than—” She broke off. “Well, it can’t be +helped. I suppose the light-cones got him. I wonder how they work.” She +flexed her wings and tried her muscles out experimentally. “The rays +don’t seem to leave any after-effects. I suppose the fatalities are +meant to come from the fall. Well, at least we’re lucky to have got away +without any worse losses.”</p> + +<p>She got to her feet and shook her head tentatively, shook her wings out +and made two or three uncertain beats that nearly lifted her off the +floor.</p> + +<p>“I’m all right now.” She spread her hands to the blaze for it was damply +chill in the cavern. “The Mountain’s angry,” she said. “It isn’t only +our raid on the village that brought this army out against us. There was +that storm, too. Kern, I think the Mountain knows you’re here and is +trying to—to finish you. Have you any idea why?”</p> + +<p>Kern had, vague theories too inchoate to put into words. He shook his +head instead. Elje laughed shortly.</p> + +<p>“Gerd wouldn’t trust you. If he were here, he’d say it was your fault +the enemy had gathered against us. He’d say to put you out and let you +shift for yourselves, all of you. Is there any reason why I shouldn’t?” +Her voice was suddenly hard.</p> + +<p>Disconcerted, Kern stared at her. “If you don’t know any—” he began, +but she broke in quickly.</p> + +<p>“You saved my life,” she conceded, “but we’re not a sentimental people. +We can’t afford to be. If your presence here is a menace to the safety +of us all, I can’t indulge my own gratitude by putting my men in danger. +We must each contribute to the strength of the group, or perish.” She +shrugged. “You’re one extra fighting man, but what about your friends? +Have they abilities to counterbalance their being earth-bound?”</p> + +<p>“I think they have. This much is sure, Elje. Unless we can prevail +against the Mountain somehow, I believe we mutants at least are doomed. +Our coming has upset the balance in your world and the Mountain knows it +and intends to be rid of us. Well, we’ve lost our best man, Bruce +Hallam. With his help we might have moved openly against the Mountain. +Without him, we are greatly handicapped.” Kern grimaced wryly. +“Remember, Byrna and I have been in—call it in tune—with whatever it +is that constitutes the Mountain. We know what we’re facing. But I don’t +see any choice. It’s kill or be killed.”</p> + +<p>Behind him Kua’s gentle voice spoke. “Kern,” she said. He turned. Elje +turned too, and from the corner of his eye, he saw her recoil +involuntarily from the strangeness of Kua’s face.</p> + +<p>Kua’s wide blue eye, with depth upon depth shining in it, was staring at +the rock wall above the fireplace. Her face had a look of concentration +and withdrawal upon it, as if in all but body she were miles away.</p> + +<p>“Kern!” she said again. “There are men coming. Many men. I think they +are the same ones who were following us outside.” She hesitated, +glancing quickly at Elje’s face, her eye refocusing swiftly and then +going back to the solid wall.</p> + +<p>“Kua, you can see them?” Kern demanded. “Do you mean it? Do you know +you’re not looking through empty spaces now, Kua? You’re looking through +rock!”</p> + +<p>The shock of realization on Kua’s face as she turned to him was answer +enough. “I am!” she gasped. “It never—that hasn’t happened before. +Kern, it’s true that we’re changing. More than we know, until something +like this happens! But I can see them. I can see through the side of the +mountain.”</p> + +<p>Again she turned to stare with her fathomless gaze into distances no +human eye ever pierced before, unaided.</p> + +<p>“They’re coming,” she said. “Through the mists, the way we came.”</p> + +<p>Swiftly Kern told Elje what she had said. Elje leaned forward abruptly.</p> + +<p>“Through the labyrinth?” she cried. “But they can’t! No one can come +that way without a guide. They won’t get far before they’re overcome by +the gasses.”</p> + +<p>“They have a guide,” Kua said in a strangely gentle voice, turning her +gaze upon Elje. “Your friend. Gerd.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p class="ph1">CHAPTER VI</p> + +<p class="ph2"><i>Betrayal</i></p> + + +<p>Horrified silence filled the cave for a moment when Kern ceased his +translation. Then bedlam broke out. The encircling men who had listened +so far in silence burst into violent speech, some deriding Kua’s claim, +some cursing Gerd. Elje silenced them with a sharp command.</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe you,” she said flatly. “Gerd wouldn’t betray us.”</p> + +<p>Kua shrugged. “You’d better prepare to meet them,” was all she said.</p> + +<p>For a moment Elje’s composure broke. “But I don’t—it can’t be Gerd! He +wouldn’t! Kern, how <i>can</i> we meet them? They’re a hundred to our one! +This was our last refuge. If they’re coming here, all is lost!”</p> + +<p>“They don’t know we’re expecting them,” Kern said. “That’s our only +advantage. Make the most of it. Is there any room for ambushes along the +way?”</p> + +<p>Elje shook her head. “It’s almost a single-file path everywhere. And +Gerd knows it better than even I do.” Her wings drooped. Listlessly she +stared into the fire. “This is the end of all resistance to the +Mountain,” she said. “This is the day <i>it</i> wins the fight. None of us +can come out alive. Gerd! I can’t believe it!”</p> + +<p>“The Mountain—you think?” Kern asked her.</p> + +<p>“It must be that. He passed all our tests—and we have rigid ones—but +somehow he must have been able to hide the truth from us. He’s one of +the Mountain’s slaves and, when it commanded, he had to obey.”</p> + +<p>“That proves it!” Kern said suddenly. “Why should the Mountain move +against you today of all days, unless it has something to fear? Gerd’s +been with you a year, you say. The Mountain could have struck any hour +of all that time. But it waited—for an emergency. And this is the +emergency. If it’s afraid of us, then maybe we’re stronger than we know. +Maybe—”</p> + +<p>From the mists outside the high, hollow notes of a horn broke into his +speech. Kern spun around. Voices rose in angry babble from the platform. +There was a beating of wings that made a noise almost deafening under +the dome of the cavern, and the fire flared wildly, the red canvas of +Elje’s tent flapped in the blast as the outlaws rushed to the defense of +their last refuge. Elje, shouting commands, rose with them.</p> + +<p>Kua and Byrna turned white faces to Kern. Sam Brewster, behind them, +looked a question. Rapidly Kern told them what had been said.</p> + +<p>“You’d better wait here,” he finished. “I don’t know what’s coming, but +you’ll be safer inside.”</p> + +<p>Sam smiled a grim and dreadful smile. “I can help,” he reminded Kern. +“I’ll come outside.”</p> + +<p>Together they walked to the door of the cave. There was tumult beyond, +but an orderly tumult. Ranks of the winged outlaws were hurrying aloft +to hang overhead in wait. Elje marshaled the rest with a hopeless sort +of efficiency into reserves. Before she had finished, the horn sounded +again, on a note of triumph, and the first of the enemy burst through +the fog upon them.</p> + +<p>“You see,” Elje said to Kern, the hopelessness clear in her voice. “They +wanted us out in the open where they could finish us quickest. They even +gave warning so we’d be waiting for them. That’s how sure they are of +us.”</p> + +<p>From the front of the platform a wave of the outlaw fighters, knives +flashing in their hands, rose to meet the newcomers. And from above a +second wave dived on half-closed wings. For a few moments there was a +bloody melee at the mouth of the aerial entry where the enemy poured +through.</p> + +<p>“We can hold them five minutes,” Elje said. “After that, we’re through.”</p> + +<p>Now for the first time Kern saw how the winged men fought. The hawk-dive +was the thing he thought of as he watched the fighters swoop on their +prey, saw the flash of knives held at an expert angle for the slash that +would cripple wing-muscles and send the victim hurtling helplessly to +the ground. One sweeping cut across the chest-muscles was enough to put +a man out of the fight.</p> + +<p>But if the intended prey saw his adversary coming, then it was a matter +of soaring and swooping for position. And Kern saw many times a winged +man, outmaneuvered by his enemy, rise on desperate wings and hurl +himself headlong into a death-like embrace, wings folded, so that the +two fell like a single plummet, each striving frantically as they +dropped twisting through the air for a blow that would cripple his +adversary and break the wing-locked grip before the ground came too +near.</p> + +<p>Now the gush of the enemy through the fog had become too great to stem +as they poured by the score out of their narrow entry. The fight which +had for a few minutes hovered at the mouth of the gap swept backward and +upward until the great tent of vapor over the platform was filled with +struggling men, and the air was blackened with the shadows of their +wings.</p> + +<p>“They aren’t using those light-cones,” Kern said. “I’ve been waiting to +dodge but none have come through yet. Why?”</p> + +<p>“I think because the Mountain sends out the light-beam that focuses +through the wires,” Elje told him. “That’s the way their weapons usually +work. And the Mountain can’t penetrate our mists and our rocks here. +They’ve got to fight hand-to hand—but they can do it. There are too +many of them. I—Kern, look! Is that Gerd?”</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>A flash of red wings and red hair showed through the melee as someone +went by on whistling wings, too fast to see clearly. Kern caught one +glimpse of a dark face and pale, fixed eyes—and thought there was grief +in the eyes and the distorted face in that one glancing look he caught +of it.</p> + +<p>Elje, beside him, shouted something across the platform and from its lip +another wave of men rose in the hopeless defense of their stronghold.</p> + +<p>“We’ll go up with the last,” Elje said quietly, glancing over her +shoulder at the men who remained. “One more wave and then—the last. +This way we’ll kill the greatest number before it’s over. Have you a +knife, Kern?”</p> + +<p>As she spoke a man with a dripping knife soared past them over the edge +of the platform, blood falling from a dozen wounds, face set in blind, +fanatic violence. Squarely before them they saw him falter in midair, +his gaze going past them to something in the shadow of the cave. +Abruptly then he stiffened, his chin jerked up and his wings folded back +as if they had been suddenly broken. He fell in a long slide, +momentum-borne and inert, and crashed at Elje’s very feet.</p> + +<p>She had her knife at his throat in a swift, lithe crouch before she saw +that no knife was necessary. Bewildered, she looked up at Kern.</p> + +<p>He stooped and took the wet blade from the man’s hand, wiped it on his +leather jerkin.</p> + +<p>“Don’t look back, Elje,” he warned her harshly. “Sam? Sam!”</p> + +<p>“It’s all right, Kern.” Sam Brewster’s voice had a dreadful sort of +amusement in it. “I’m not—looking.”</p> + +<p>Elje stared, speechless, into Kern’s face as the other mutant sauntered +up to join them in the shelter of a heap of rock at the edge of the +platform. Sam’s smile was thin and cold. The secondary lids veiled his +eyes, but a gleam in their depths glittered even through the film and +Kern looked hastily away.</p> + +<p>“What—what is it?” Elje faltered. “What killed this man?”</p> + +<p>“I did.” Sam was grinning without mirth. “Like this.”</p> + +<p>He turned away, face lifted, scanning the turmoil overhead where men +dived and soared on blood-dappled wings, clasped one another in deathly +embraces and hurtled earthward with knives flashing between them. At the +edge of the platform, only a dozen feet overhead, such a pair writhed in +gasping, murderous combat. As they watched, one man freed his knife-hand +and in the same motion drove the blade hilt-deep into the other’s chest!</p> + +<p>The killer’s wings spread and stiffened in anticipation of what was to +come, as his victim clutched convulsively at his shoulders in a last +effort to save himself. For an instant one man’s wings supported them +both. Then the dying man’s body went limp. Wings flaccid, he fell away +from the blade and went hurtling downward through the mists, twisting +and turning over while blood pumped from his chest.</p> + +<p>The killer paused for a moment in midair, breathing in deep gasps and +looking for another adversary. His glancing eyes crossed Sam Brewster’s. +For an instant he hung there, panting for breath, gaze locked with +Sam’s.</p> + +<p>The knife dropped from his loosened fingers. Eyes still wide, he heeled +over in the air stiffly. His wings broke backward and he fell after the +man he had just killed. They vanished almost together into the fog +below.</p> + +<p>Sam laughed grimly. When he turned the secondary lids were closed again +over his eyes.</p> + +<p>“I can kill anyone who catches my eyes, when they’re open,” he said.</p> + +<p>Elje did not understand the words, but his gesture was enough. She +caught her breath softly and looked away in sheer instinctive revulsion +from that deathly gaze.</p> + +<p>“Elje, we’ve got to do something,” Kern said. “Now, while we can. We’ve +got Sam. Kua and Byrna have their own powers, too. There’s no use +waiting here to be killed. If only we could get away.”</p> + +<p>“Where?” Elje asked somberly. “The Mountain could find us wherever we +went.”</p> + +<p>“We could go to the Mountain.” Kern’s voice was more confident than he +felt. “If it’s so anxious to see us dead, then it must be afraid of us. +Anyhow, that’s our only hope. Is there any way out except the way we +came here?”</p> + +<p>Elje gestured aloft. “Only up. And you can see how thick the vapors +are.”</p> + +<p>Kern glanced around the platform. There were perhaps fifty men remaining +on their feet, waiting to be thrown into the last wave of the defense. +He looked toward the cave-mouth and beckoned. Kua and Byrna hurried +across the platform toward him, their faces pale and anxious.</p> + +<p>“Kua,” he said. “A little while ago you found you could look through +walls. Look up. Do you think you could tell which of those vapors up +there are poisonous and which aren’t?”</p> + +<p>Kua’s face lifted: her single eye narrowed. For a long moment no one +spoke.</p> + +<p>“No, I’m not sure,” she said. “I can see a long way through to the clear +air. I can see that some of the fog flows in definite patterns, much +thicker than the rest. But what’s poison and what isn’t—no one could +tell that by looking, Kern.”</p> + +<p>“Is there a path through the places where the fog’s thin?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“We’ll have to take a chance on it, then. Maybe if it’s thin enough to +breathe, we can get through.”</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Rapidly he told Elje what he hoped. “There are men enough left here to +give us a chance if we fight our way. Sam and Kua are worth enough to be +carried. I’ve never fought in the air and I wouldn’t be much help, so +I’ll carry Byrna. It’s worth trying, Elje. Better than waiting here to +be killed.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.” Elje’s voice was hopeless. “Better to die that way than this. All +right, Kern, we’ll go.”</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/> + <div class="caption"> + <p>“Better to die that way than this,” said Elja. “All right, Kern, we’ll go.”</p> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p>She turned and shouted commands to the last men around her. A few +minutes later the remnant of the rebel band went soaring into the air.</p> + +<p>The platform fell away below. It was like plunging into a maelstrom of +shouts and cries, groans, gasps for breath, the deafening beat of many +wings. Blood rained about them, knives flashed and fell, bodies hurtled +past toward the ground. With Byrna’s light weight in his arms, Kern beat +heavily upward. Confidence had suddenly begun to glow in him, against +all reason. They would make it. He was irrationally sure of that.</p> + +<p>And they did. But not all of them.</p> + +<p>Sam Brewster was the one who fell. Almost at the last, when their +depleted band had reached nearly the dome of the vaporous tent, a flung +knife transfixed one of Sam’s bearers between the wings. He screamed, +arched backward, and fell. Someone beside him dived too late for the +reeling basket-seat in which Sam rode. The mutant pitched forward into +space and dropped without a cry.</p> + +<p>It would have been suicide to dive back into that maelstrom of death in +an effort to catch him. Sick at heart, Kern saw him fall twisting toward +the ground. He saw, too, how man after man of the swarm around him +stiffened and dropped after Sam on limp wings as the mutant’s lethal +gaze took his own escort of dead men around him to his death.</p> + +<p>Then they plunged into the choking mists overhead, and no one had time +to think of anything but his own breathing, his own urgent need to +follow exactly in the wing-path of Kua’s bearers as she guided them +through the fog.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Like a gigantic thunderhead the Mountain lifted its clear, pale bulk +into the zenith. The mind quailed from the very thought of such height; +it seemed to lean forward over the fliers and hover for a monumental +collapse that would crush the world.</p> + +<p>When they drew close, Byrna shuddered in Kern’s arms and turned like a +child to clasp his neck and hide her face on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>“I can feel it,” she said in a muffled voice. “It’s watching. It’s +trying to—to get into my mind. Don’t think, Kern. Don’t let it reach +you!”</p> + +<p>Kern was briefly aware of a hot, coiling ribbon of hatred that moved +through his brain and was gone as his mind slammed its gates of thought +against the intruder. It was not easy to force his wings to carry them +onward when his whole mind rebelled against drawing any nearer to the +Mountain. He saw revulsion on the faces around him too, and caught +uneasy glances cast sideward at his face. Their pace had perceptibly +slowed.</p> + +<p>“I don’t like it either, Elje,” he said to the winged girl across the +swimming void that flowed past far below. “But we’ve got to do it. What +choice have we, except to be killed? They may be following us from the +cave already. Our only hope’s to reach the Mountain where we <i>may</i> do a +little damage before—” He did not finish. There was no need to finish.</p> + +<p>Now they were so near the wall of opalescence rising like the end of the +world before them that Kern could see their own reflections floating +distorted high up on the face of the cliff.</p> + +<p>“Is it glass?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“No one knows.” Elje controlled a shiver. “No one who came close enough +to find out ever returned. It may be just a—a solid mass. I don’t—” +She had glanced across her shoulder to answer him. Now her gaze went +further.</p> + +<p>“They’re following,” she said in a dull voice. “If it is solid, we’re +trapped.”</p> + +<p>Kern looked back. In a dark mass like a low, level cloud on the horizon, +the winged ranks of the enemy moved in their wake.</p> + +<p>Kua suddenly pointed.</p> + +<p>“Look ahead,” she said. “Up there on the cliff, to the left—is it a +cave? I—why, it’s opening wider!”</p> + +<p>Everyone looked eagerly. There was a moment’s silence. The Mountain too +seemed to wait and listen. But Kern saw no change in the face of the +cliff. Unbroken, unshadowed, opalescent, it lifted before them.</p> + +<p>Wind sighed past them toward the cliff, ruffling their wings. The sigh +grew stronger—was a rising sough of sound—a sough that soared to an +ear-stunning shriek. Headlong they whirled toward the Mountain, +helpless, drawn upon that sudden irresistible wind. Kern clutched Byrna +tighter and fought his wrenched wings as the cliff rose up in his face, +like a solid cloud.</p> + +<p>Dimly he could make out the shape of the opening at the same moment it +engulfed him. Stunned with surprise, he went tumbling into the cliffside +on that sucking wind, half-blinded by the opalescent mist which filled +the tunnel. It was like spinning through a solid, for the impalpable +stuff they flew through was indistinguishable to the eye from the stuff +of the Mountain itself.</p> + +<p>Light dimmed behind them as they were drawn helpless in tumbling flight +deeper and deeper into the heart of the cloud—the Mountain—there was +no term for what it was they sped through.</p> + +<p>The wind that bore them along slowed. The deafening noise of it fell and +was a sigh, a whisper—silence. For an instant they hung in opalescent +nothingness, gasping for breath. Then Kua’s voice sounded sweetly in the +hush.</p> + +<p>“Look back—look back! I can see the way we came. I can see it closing. +Like water flowing together. No, like running sand.”</p> + +<p>Kern ceased to hear her. For suddenly he was aware of an almost +imperceptible thickening in the mist around him. Something not seen, but +felt. A closing and a supporting, so that the weight of his body and +Byrna’s no longer hung wholly upon his wings. A solidifying in the very +air.</p> + +<p>He could not move.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p class="ph1">CHAPTER VII</p> + +<p class="ph2"><i>Combat</i></p> + + +<p>Relentlessly the Mountain which had opened to receive them had closed +again, gently and solidly. The little group of captives hung frozen in +the very postures of flight, spread-winged, hair still blowing in a wind +which no longer moved past them. They were frozen as if in a moment of +eternal Now, as if time had ceased to move and their own motions had +ceased with it.</p> + +<p>And then before them in the opalescent cloud of the Mountain a thin coil +of light began to glow.</p> + +<p>Swiftly it grew clearer. And Kern looked with the eyes of the body upon +that which he had seen before with the eyes of the mind. He felt the +malevolence beat out at them before the fire itself came wholly into +focus, strong hatred, curiously impersonal. It was the hatred of a +Mountain, a cloud, not a human hatred.</p> + +<p>The lazy, coiling ribbon moved through the solid fog, the foggy solid +glass, somewhere ahead of the captives. It was impossible to gauge +distances here, but the thing was close enough to see in every detail. +Its slowly writhing coil that drew in and out of its own folds with a +leisurely, never-ending motion. Its burning color that was hot to the +eye and hot to the perceptive mind with the heat of its consuming +hatred.</p> + +<p>Something lay within the coils. It was drawing its ribbon-folds +caressingly about that something. They could not yet see what.</p> + +<p>For an instant or two the great, slow, burning thing moved in its long +folds before them, blind and impersonal and hating. But then came a new +change. Then it looked at them.</p> + +<p>Spots of luminous darkness began to swim slowly through the coils. They +came and went. Whenever a coil moved itself to face the captives in the +solid glass, eye-spots swam upon that coil, flickering out again as the +fiery curve moved on.</p> + +<p>It watched. It waited and hated and was silent.</p> + +<p>That which lay within it, bathed in the caressing coils, began to move. +The coils altered their pattern to leave what they supported visible. +And Kern felt a shock of emptiness within him that made the vision blur +for a moment. When he looked again it was unmistakable and clear before +him.</p> + +<p>Bruce Hallam, lying quietly on the supporting coils, his eyes open and +regarding them as impersonally as the eyes that came and went upon the +ribbons of fire.</p> + +<p>“This—” Bruce Hallam said clearly “—is my world.”</p> + +<p>The words came to them as if through empty air, with a cold clarity that +allowed of no mistake. For it was not wholly Bruce Hallam who spoke. It +was a voice of fire too. Hatred and blinding light coiled through the +words as it coiled through the fog before their eyes. Two beings spoke +with the single voice, but two beings who were now one.</p> + +<p>Sudden memory flashed through Kern’s mind. He saw the long-ago, far-away +room again, where the little group of mutants had stepped from one +universe to another. He saw Bruce opening his steel door upon a waiting +world, searching it with his eyes, closing the door again. He understood +now. Bruce had known. Somehow, he had known in the single glance which +world held kinship for him and which did not.</p> + +<p>Bruce, with his mutant’s uncanny skill at creating out of any means at +hand the more-than-machinery which would do his bidding, had recognized +this world. Kern remembered with shock his own blindness when Elje had +described to him what the Mountain’s slaves, under its guidance, could +do with any material at hand—how, when they still suspected Kern of +complicity with the enemy, they had cleared his room of any matter out +of which he might build a weapon to destroy them.</p> + +<p>Yes, this world was Bruce Hallam’s—not Kern’s after all. A winged +world, yes, but a world under dominance. And Bruce’s was the dominant +realm.</p> + +<p>All this flashed through his mind with the swiftness of a single +thought, while Bruce’s coldly burning words still sounded in their ears. +He was remembering how impersonal Bruce had always been, how remote from +human feeling, when he heard the cold voice again.</p> + +<p>“There is no place in my world for you,” Bruce told them calmly. “There +is room only for the winged people—and Me. You come from malleable +flesh, a malleable heritage. I can not trust you here. My coming into +the world made a cyclone here in the Mountain, drawing out forces better +left untouched. I was helpless then. I could not save—myself—until I +was out of your reach. The time has come to destroy the last remnants of +those who defy me. And you mutants whose flesh I can not control must go +with the rest.”</p> + +<p>He did not stir, but the coiling flame moved with sudden quickened +speed, flowing toward them <i>through</i> the imprisoning glass which held +the humans so inflexibly. Bruce, then, was only the voice of this +dreadful duo. The ribbon of flame was the body.</p> + +<p>A long loop of it moved lazily forward, falling gently like a silk +ribbon through air. After it the fiery length followed gracefully, +weaving in and out of its own folds, and within the folds, always +caressed by them streaming over and around his body, Bruce Hallam moved +too, rigidly, supported on the coiling loops, not a muscle of his own +limbs stirring.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Kern watched them come. He had no idea what would happen when the +burning coils touched the first human, but he could feel the white heat +of its malevolence flow before it. Helpless, voiceless in the grip of +the unyielding glass, he strained fiercely for—for—he did not know +what. Only to be free to fight even uselessly against the oncoming +enemy.</p> + +<p>Sharply the thought in his mind broke in two. He had known this cleavage +before, but the utter strangeness of it stunned him for a moment so that +his thoughts went blank while something, <i>something</i> stirred incredibly +through his body.</p> + +<p>The old feeling of change, of unutterable newness, of an unguessed sense +opening within him like nothing man ever knew before.</p> + +<p>Three times he had known this feeling since he stepped into the winged +world. Three times he had crushed it down, fearing and hating it for its +threat of making him alien again, alien to the winged people he had +hoped would be his own. But this time he did not fight. This time, in +the violent, straining effort to break free, he broke instead some +barrier which had until now held back the new thing, the <i>something</i> +which had burgeoned relentlessly within him ever since he came within +the Mountain’s realm.</p> + +<p>The glass walls that held him like a prisoner in ice grew dim and +vanished. His companions pilloried in glass beside him wavered into +darkness. He no longer felt the warmth of Byrna frozen in glass in his +arms. Everything was dark—even the slow—coiling ribbons that looped +leisurely toward him through solid substance.</p> + +<p>And then out of that darkness came light. All about him came light. And +it took a long moment for him to discover he was not seeing that light +with eyes. He was seeing it—incredibly, impossibly—with his whole +body. He saw everything around him in one all-encompassing range.</p> + +<p>“This is the way the Mountain sees,” he knew with sudden certainty. How +he knew it was not clear; it was a knowledge that came with the new +vision. He and the Mountain, they shared a common faculty.</p> + +<p>Motion far away caught his fathomless attention and he was looking out +through the clouded side of the Mountain and seeing, as if he stood +before them, the flight of the oncoming winged men who had followed the +fugitives from the eyrie. They were nearly here now, approaching the +monstrous cliff as blindly as if they meant to dash themselves to death +against it.</p> + +<p>With the same all-embracing sight, Kern was aware of the people frozen +around him into the glass, and of the looping coils that flowed toward +them, and of Bruce Hallam, rigid as an image of stone, moving with the +moving ribbons.</p> + +<p>But they looked very different now. The people.</p> + +<p>He knew their faces, the familiar outlines of their bodies, but he could +see through the bodies with his new vision. And the appalling thing he +saw was not the structure of bone and muscle and nerve which a part of +his mind expected there. These things were only pale shadows upon +the—the <i>other</i>.</p> + +<p>The people were rings of flat, luminous color, disc upon disc of it, +superimposed, overlapping, no two people with the same patterns or the +same colors. And he knew that the muscular structure humans are aware +of, the skeleton, the nerves, are only a part of what comprises them. +Only a part—and not the part important to the Mountain. The Mountain +ruled by other means.</p> + +<p>Every flying man approaching outside the cliff had one thing in common +with his fellows. Each was made up of ring after ring of colors, +brilliant arcs and half-moons lying one upon another and in continual +delicate shifting motion. But in each, and moving slowly over the rings, +a circle of luminous darkness swung. Darkness like the eyes which swam +up to the surface of the coiling ribbons that embraced Bruce Hallam. An +eye—the eye of the Mountain.</p> + +<p>That was the thing the Mountain used in them to transmit its commands, +then. The point of contact in each man that made him a slave when the +orders came.</p> + +<p>There was no such eye in any of the people imprisoned around Kern. He +saw his own body with this new vision, rings and discs of color like the +rest, and with no dark, circling spot that meant the Mountain owned him.</p> + +<p>The Mountain is a creature of glass, he told himself clearly. Its body +is this opalescent stuff which is solid or gas as the Mountain wills. It +can make tunnels and caverns like open mouths through it and close them +again. And its brain, its motivating force, is the ribbon of fire, +endless, revolving upon itself in the center. It has many strange +senses. One of them I share now.</p> + +<p>He thought: When we came here, we somehow brought on a cyclone of +violent forces drawn from the Mountain itself. Because Bruce Hallam had +an inhuman kinship with the entity which dwells here. But it was an +entity so strong, so accustomed to mold the minds of its victims and use +them like tools to create other tools, that we ourselves were reshaped +without knowing it.</p> + +<p>This strange new sense began very early to take shape in me. Kua reacted +too, and Byrna. Sam? I don’t know. He’s gone. But as for me, I have +changed.</p> + +<p>Something stirred mysteriously through his flesh, and without the need +to look down, Kern’s horizon-circling vision told him that light had +begun to glow in him—fire—long, rolling loops of fire that stretched +with incredible flexibility <i>through</i> the solid glass imprisoning him.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>The ribbon of fire upon which Bruce’s body rode paused in its motion, +hesitated, almost drew back. Kern felt dimly its surprise and its +strange, inhuman hatred. But only dimly, for his own mind was too +stunned with this final revelation to let any other feeling through.</p> + +<p>Too malleable, he thought despairingly—flesh too malleable to hold its +own form under the irresistible altering pull that was the Mountain. And +now through the icy glass which held the humans rigid, two shapes of +coiling flame turned lazily over and over—one shape supporting a human +body and glowing incandescent with malevolence, the other still too +amazed for emotion, but stretching its new limbs of fire with a sort of +reluctant, voluptuous luxury as the endless ribbon rolled in +convolutions of flame in and out of its own length. A strange, inhuman +luxury, this, to stretch upon the firm, permeable glass, moving through +it as light might move, in a dimension of its own.</p> + +<p>Hatred like a blast of furnace-heat struck upon Kern’s new awareness +with an impact that jolted him out of this bewildering mental fog. Hate +and fear. He had felt that blast before, invisibly in the voids of +thought, and terror had come with it so that he fled blindly to escape. +But this time fear did not follow after the hate. This time he welcomed +conflict.</p> + +<p>“Now we’re equals—matched equals,” he told himself, and felt even in +this moment of danger and surprise the utter difference of his own mind +through which thoughts moved slowly and clearly, like his new limbs +through the solidity of the glass. If he had ever owned a body of flesh +and blood, it was his no longer. If his mind had ever dwelt there and +shaped its thoughts to the contours of brain and skull, they were shaped +no longer. This was new, new, terrible and wonderful beyond human +understanding.</p> + +<p>Slow exultation began to burn in him as he rolled the great coils of +fire which were his body toward that which until now had dwelt here +alone. Now the Mountain had a double mind—if the fiery ribbon was +indeed the mind of the thing—but moving still through a single gigantic +body of opalescent glass. And within that vast body, the doubled mind +moved upon itself in suicidal combat.</p> + +<p>Hatred was a bath of flame that engulfed him as their farthest coiling +loops touched—touched and engaged with sudden violence. But Kern was +not afraid now, not repelled. With a surging lunge he tested the +strength in that shape which was the twin of his own. The ribbons +writhed and strained. Then they paused for a moment and drew back in +mutual consent. And simultaneously, as if hurled by a single mind, +lunged forward again.</p> + +<p>This time the fiery limbs entangled until their full endlessly revolving +lengths were wholly engaged with one another and the two identical +shapes of rolling fire strove furiously together in a single knot that +boiled with ceaseless motion.</p> + +<p>Hatred burned and bubbled all around Kern’s awareness as he strove coil +against coil with the enemy. But it did not touch him any more. He felt +no fear. And when he began to realize that he could not vanquish this +being by strength alone, not even then did he feel fear. Emotion was +gone from him. Coil by coil he tested the thing he strove with, and coil +by coil he found it braced irresistibly against his greatest strength. +He could not swerve it by a single loop.</p> + +<p>But it could not swerve him. Matched in strength as they were in shape, +the two creatures of flame lay for a moment upon the clouded ice, limb +straining against limb in a perilous balance that permitted of no +motion.</p> + +<p>Then, very delicately, the awareness that had been Kern reached out with +a sense he had not until this moment known he possessed, and touched the +frozen body of Bruce Hallam. For he knew now that he and this enemy were +too perfectly matched for either to prevail, unless one or the other +found a lever by which his adversary could be overthrown.</p> + +<p>Was it Bruce? Gently, and then with increasing pressure, he tried that +rigid, unyielding body which had once been human. There was +nothing—nothing. Not even the discs of overlapping color which the +still-human exhibited to his new sight moved through Bruce’s limbs. He +was solid, unmoving, a shape of nothingness, and no sense could touch +him. No, Bruce was not the source through which strength might be +drained from the enemy.</p> + +<p>What, then? Kern asked himself with passionless consideration. And the +answer came clearly and unhurried, as if it had waited only this query +to reply.</p> + +<p>The winged men waiting outside the mountain—that was the answer.</p> + +<p>Almost outstripping the thought, his sight and his strange new senses +leaped to the surface of the Mountain. There the slaves hung on +stretched wings, tilting to the updrafts from below, circling and +soaring and waiting in mindless obedience for the command that would +release them from their mental thrall.</p> + +<p>Once he had seen them as winged humans fighting with fanatic violence. +Now they were only shapes of overlapping discs, full of slowly turning +motion, and in each the Eye of the Mountain swimming leisurely over the +surface of the colors.</p> + +<p><i>The Eye</i>, he thought. The Eye!</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Like a new, unguessed arm his awareness shot out and plunged into the +nearest spot of darkness which swam over the colored discs. Plunged +in—groped for contact—and tapped a source of flame. Up through the arm +the flame leaped, and into Kern’s body of matching flame. Almost +imperceptibly he felt the straining coils of the enemy give beneath the +pressure of his own.</p> + +<p>Another, and another and another of the flying shapes gave up its tiny +source of fire, and Kern’s strength grew with each. The combat which had +hung motionless in mutual violence now writhed suddenly into action +again as the balance was destroyed. But the fury of the enemy seemed to +double too as it felt itself bent backward upon its own fiery coils.</p> + +<p>What had been combat before the stasis turned into abrupt turmoil now. +The two ribbons of flame convulsed together, lashing and whipping into +an incandescent fury of struggle. And Kern knew in a timeless moment or +two that even this was not enough. He must find some last source of +power to give him the victory.</p> + +<p>The arm with which he had robbed the flying men of their Eyes groped, +plunged deeper, seeking more power within them. And amazingly, found it.</p> + +<p>For an instant Kern could not understand why strength in a full, deep +tide flowed into him as the light began to fail in his enemy. And then +he understood, and a surge of triumph for the first time glowed through +his whole being.</p> + +<p>For in giving its strength to its slaves, that it might command them, +the Enemy had opened a channel which ran both ways. And in draining the +slaves, Kern found himself draining the Enemy itself—reaching back and +back through each slave into the source from which that strength came.</p> + +<p>From a score, a hundred channels, the Mountain must have felt its own +power drain away. Its power, but not its hate. Kern could feel the +sheer, inhuman malevolence burning about him in great washes of flame as +the strength of the coils against his grew steadily weaker. The fire +sank down within it, dimming and fading as the creature bled its own +power away—bled flame, and slowly, slowly died!</p> + +<p>The turning ribbons of light no longer moved against Kern’s awareness. +His limbs engulfed not a luminous involuted band, but a thin, pale +hatred which fell apart as he drew his own body back. It fell apart into +a tiny rain of droplets, each of them dancing with its own seed of hate. +Twinkling, fading, and the hatred fading with them, until they were +gone.</p> + +<p>Kern felt change all about him, in the substance of the Mountain itself. +A vast, imponderable shifting of the clouded glass, a falling apart of +the atoms which composed it, as its soul of fire had fallen. The +opalescent stuff was a fog—a mist—a thin, dissipating gas which no +longer supported him. The cold of clear air struck terribly upon his +fiery limbs as the Mountain dissolved from about him. He convulsed upon +himself in a knot of flame that seemed to consume itself and to +cease—to cease—</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Everything was blank around him. Neither dark nor light, but void. He +hung motionless upon nothing. He was no longer a shape of flame. He was +no longer a shape of flesh. He was nothing, nowhere.</p> + +<p>This was infinity, where time was not. For milleniums, he thought, he +drifted there upon oblivion. Milleniums, or moments!</p> + +<p>From far away a something began to be. He did not recognize it—he knew +only that where nothingness had been, now there was a something. He +heard a call. That was it, a call, a sound of incredible sweetness.</p> + +<p>A voice? Yes, it was a voice of sheer melody, saying a name. He did not +know the name.</p> + +<p>“Kern—Kern,” it cried. The syllable had no meaning to him, but the +sweetness of the voice that shaped it gradually began to rouse him from +his stupor. Over and over the syllable sounded, and then with a sudden +blaze of awareness he knew it for what it was.</p> + +<p>“My name!” he thought with amazement. “My own name!”</p> + +<p>The mind came back into him, and he knew. Like Bruce Hallam, he had hung +frozen and empty from the touch of the all-consuming fire which had been +himself. Like Bruce, he had been emptier than death.</p> + +<p>“Kern, Kern, come back,” wailed the voice of impossible sweetness. He +knew it now. Byrna’s voice, lovely as a siren’s magical song, summoning +him back to the living.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt=""/> + <div class="caption"> + <p>He heard a voice of impossible sweetness, and slowly, slowly, he felt warmth return to him.</p> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p>Slowly, slowly, he felt warmth return to him. Slowly he drew his mind +together again, and then his body came back around him, and with +infinite effort he lifted the eyelids that shut out the world.</p> + +<p>He lay on a hillside in the full warm tide of the sunlight which poured +down from an empty sky. There was no Mountain any more. No vertiginous +thunderhead of glass towering up the zenith, casting its pale shadow +across the world. Someone bent over him, holding her wings to shut the +sun’s glare from his eyes. Her wings glistened.</p> + +<p>Tentatively he flexed his own. And then strength came back with a +magical rush to him, and he sat up with a strong beat of his pinions +that almost lifted him from the ground. All around him smiling faces +watched in the shadow of their wings.</p> + +<p>And he knew that he was free at last, and the winged world was free. 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