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| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-06-11 05:21:05 -0700 |
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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-06-11 05:21:05 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/76268-0.txt b/76268-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e045655 --- /dev/null +++ b/76268-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8964 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76268 *** + + + + + + The Sea Girl + + By RAY CUMMINGS + + _Author of “A Brand New World,” “Beyond the Stars,” etc._ + + _Sunken ships and strange ocean changes presage the mightiest and + most unaccountable threat ever made against mankind’s world._ + + [Transcriber’s Note: This etext was produced from + Argosy All-Story Weekly March 2, 9, 16, 23, 30, April 6, 1929] + + + + + “_. . . and he lived with her in a Golden Palace at the bottom of + the sea . . ._” + + + CHAPTER I. + + HUMAN GIRL, OR SIREN? + + +The first of the mysterious sea disasters occurred in March, 1990. +It did not seem important; it was given very little publicity. A +small, old-fashioned freight vessel of some thirty thousand tons sank +in mid-Pacific with the loss of all on board. The ship, which in its +day must have been accounted a luxurious passenger liner, had, years +ago, been converted to the freight trade, and its weirdly elaborate +superstructure long since dismantled. Bound from San Francisco to +the Island ports and Dutch East India with a cargo of manufactured +foodstuffs for the eastern island markets, it had sunk unexpectedly, +and for no apparent cause, at fifteen N degrees and one hundred and +sixty-five degrees E, northwest of the Marshall Group. + +As it happened, I was among the first to receive the call of distress. +My name is Geoffry Grant. I was twenty-two years old, that spring of +1990. They say that ours is the generation of youthful achievement; +even so, I think I had done fairly well, for I was chief officer then, +second in command of the largest vessel of the Sub-Pacific Freighters. +Our line was newly established to supersede the ancient surface vessels +whose passengers were nearly all traveling by air. + +We were in fourteen degrees N and one hundred and sixty-five degrees +twenty minutes E, on the return voyage, with Honolulu our next port of +call, running in the thirty fathom lane, when the distress signal from +so near at hand reached us. It was very nearly midnight. The surface +was wholly calm; the night darkly overcast with a pallid moon. We had +been up at 9 P.M. answering an emergency call from one of +the great passenger liners flying west. We had hung at the surface +for nearly an hour, waiting for them to come along, and another hour +pumping up to them the needed fuel. My superior was disgruntled. It put +us late for our connections at the Hawaiians; and with our schedule +demanding fifty knots there was little chance of us making it up. + +I was sitting off duty, in my cabin that midnight, listening to young +Arturo Plantet drooling on his violin. He was our only passenger. +A queer character, this boy; wholly different, physically and +temperamentally, from myself, and yet between us there existed a real +affection. I am a blond, husky six-footer. Arturo, who at this time was +just turned eighteen, was shorter, and almost girlishly frail. + +I once heard his father, in a moment of exasperation, call him a +neurotic. He was not that; he seemed indeed always perfectly healthy, +with steady normal nerves. But in this world of youthful practicality, +Arturo was miscast. Apparently he cared not at all for achievement. He +was a dreamer by temperament, rather than a doer. Of sharpened, poetic +sensibilities, he seemed content to live in a world of fancy of his own +creating, watching our busy, bustling realities pass him by. A pale, +romantic-looking boy, his face beautiful rather than handsome; dark, +lustrous, expressive eyes, with heavy girlish lashes; a mouth large, +with sensitive girlish lips, and a shock of raven-black, wavy hair. + +Yet there was nothing effeminate about Arturo Plantet. His firm chin +saved him from that. His voice was soft, yet strongly masculine. I +have seen his big eyes fill up with unbidden tears at a jibe from his +father; but he was never petulant, and when angered or hurt, a very +manly dignity sat upon him. + +Nor was he lacking in a manly physical courage. He cared nothing for +athletics. He could have been, I am sure, a champion swimmer--he seemed +to take to the water naturally, and swam and dived like a little +dolphin; but he would not train, nor enter any contests; he disdained +them. But I remember that when he was fifteen, his older sister, Polly, +was once endangered in the rapids of a Canadian stream. Against all +reason Arturo leaped into it and saved her, with a resulting broken leg +and arm. + +Such was Arturo Plantet, who now sat in my cabin with his interminable +violin. He was always very silent; often I wondered what fancies were +drifting behind those brooding dark eyes. This ineffectual dreamer! + +Yet our busy, practical world of science--so far removed from +dreams--was destined soon to be plunged into a turmoil with Arturo +playing a leading, if unknown and unappreciated part. Strange +commentary! And I think that I am not wholly without a strain of +romance myself, for it affects me strongly to look back upon it. + + * * * * * + +He glanced up at me. “That’s very pretty, Jeff, don’t you think so?” + +“What? Oh, yes, I suppose so. Aren’t you going to bed, Arturo? That +accursed liner--I don’t know why they can’t guard against things like +that--puts us two hours late. We’ll be fully that long making Pearl +Harbor. The old man’s furious.” + +“Is he? I say, this is a fugue of my own invention, Jeff. Listen how I +weave in the two voices.” + +I rang up our chief engineer to see what he thought of the chances; +it would be too bad, on this our third voyage, to be late. The London +office would score us. + +“Wait a minute, Arturo, shut that damn thing off--” + +And then Randall came running down the passage outside. I caught his +words: “The Malaysia’s sinking! We’re nearest to her--” + +The old man rang my bell; I was ordered up to the control tower. +Randall was telling some one in the passage: “That finishes our +schedule, all right; we’ll be all night on this job.” + +Arturo followed me. “What’s the Malaysia?” + +“Surface vessel,” Randall called after us. “An old roamer. She’s +sinking, they don’t know why. Piled to the funnels with cargo; she’ll +go down like a stone. They ought to keep those old traps in the +rivers--” + +“Where is she?” + +He told us. Less than a degree and a half away, north by west, well off +our course. Already we were swinging, and mounting to the surface. + +Arturo stuck to my elbow. He was always unobtrusive. The old man +allowed him the run of the ship, partly because he liked the boy, +and also because of Dr. Plantet’s influence and the considerable +investment he had made when our line was financed. + +Arturo was excited and awed. The sea held for him a curious +fascination. It did for me also, but in a wholly different way. To me +the sea was primarily a world of mechanisms; of mathematical charts, +schedules to be maintained; a scientific business to be handled with +skillful exactitude. + +To Arturo it seemed still to be a world of fairy romance, or a mighty +monster in its anger. To his eyes its surface still held scudding ships +of ancient fashion; argosies sailing hopefully over the storm-lashed +waves toward unknown shining harbors. Or, again, his fancy saw a realm +of monsters, hideous, fearsome things of the deeps, coming up to +frighten the sturdy mariners of old; or oceanids disporting themselves +on the beaches of desert islands; sirens with soft luring voices. +Or sea horses, racing the Ægean waves with the car of Poseidon. A +fairy world of dreams. To him our throbbing steel mechanisms were the +unrealities, the anachronisms. + +He was wildly excited now at the shipwreck call. But there was nothing +to see; nothing to hear. The one hurried signal that Randall had picked +up was the last. + +We reached the scene and cruised the surface. A litter of wreckage +floating in a wan moonlight on an oily sea. We dived as far as +we dared. But even under our brilliant lights there was nothing +significant to be seen. The Malaysia had gone on down. We were not far +from the Marshall ridge here, but there were still several thousand +fathoms down to this floor of the great Pacific basin. The Malaysia had +gone, and we could not follow her. + + * * * * * + +This was the first of the many queer things that happened that spring +and summer of 1990. I find them difficult to set down in any logical +sequence, for at the time they seemed to have no logic. There were +several other unaccountable sea disasters to surface vessels. A whaler, +with its attendant searching wasp planes loaded on its landing stage, +was cruising south of the Aleutians, coming back to Skagway. It never +reached there--never was heard from again. As though in the old days, +before any of the aërial or underwater communications were perfected, +it merely vanished. + +Again, there was another old roamer like the Malaysia. It was at +fifteen degrees N, south of the Hawaiians. It sent out one startled +call: “Sinking--no reason.” It was gone before help could reach it. +And, like the Malaysia, none of its lifeboats were found, no life +rafts; none of its safety devices put to any use; no single person +found alive or dead upon the scene of its sinking. + +There was at first little newspaper or radio comment. The public news +organizations were engrossed with the “Yellow Peril” complications. +The Yellow War, so recently passed, had its aftermath of bitterness, +mingled with the cupidity which was rapidly forcing a renewal of +commerce. The “mysterious sea disasters” passed with a cursory comment. + +The air lines made more of them. In April, the great Trans-Pacific +Aircraft Corporation began a broadcasted inquiry into the dangers of +ocean travel. It was propaganda solely; and suddenly several of the +world governments shut down upon it. + +The subject, quite naturally, was of vital interest to our company. +There were two vessels lost in March; two in April; and in May no +less than six. All surface ships, slow, old-fashioned freighters, +food-laden. And, what interested us most, all were lost in the Pacific, +or its fringing seas. + +By this time there would normally have been a very great world comment. +I wondered why there was not, and did not dream until afterward that +by April the whole subject was under strict government censorship, +with all publicity forbidden. + +By May, the surface lines were gradually withholding their Pacific +sailings. Our line was rushed, overloaded with business. There was, +with us, considerable official perturbation. I knew it, though we +were strictly forbidden aboard ship to mention it. Our directors +were frightened, especially when Lloyds and the Amalgamated Marine +Underwriters raised our insurance, though as yet no submersible +anywhere had met with disaster, or even with any unusual occurrence. + +And then, in June, one of our largest vessels, sister ship of the one +on which I had my post, left Guam and, apparently, headed into the Nero +Deep and stayed there! It brought consternation to us all. I was ashore +at the time, visiting Dr. Plantet with Arturo and Polly in their home +on the Maine coast. A radio came to me from our New York office; my +ship would sail once more, and then be laid up until further notice. + +With these events from March to June, there were intermingled +throughout the world a hundred others which afterward I was to realize +as significant. But they did not seem so at the time. + +An unusual volcanic activity was reported almost simultaneously +from several different quarters. Etna burst forth with a cloud of +steam; harmless; unexplained--a puzzle to the scientists. Fuji, so +long dormant, began rumbling, threw Japan into a panic, flung up a +cloud of smoke and gas which whitened into steam. The craters of the +Hawaiians were everywhere steaming. The geysers of Western America were +abnormally powerful in their action; the New Zealand hot springs were +suddenly, unnaturally active. + +An earthquake occurred under the mid-Atlantic; a wave of tidal +proportions inundated the coasts of Africa and the Americas. + +Scores of such reports following one upon the heels of the other +from widely scattered localities indicated a general, unexplainable +disturbance of nature. A wind storm out of season; rainfall in another +quarter, unduly severe. Rivers were too high, or abnormally low. And +the tides were wrong; countless small news dispatches, even back at the +beginning of 1990, mentioned the surprising abnormality of local tides. + + * * * * * + +None of it was significant of anything; like a puzzle wherein one +fits together odd pieces, with the key piece missing. The tides, +they said--I quote the words of one popular newscaster of scientific +matters: “The tides are all wrong. The moon must have become a lunatic. +The astronomers had better look into the matter.” + +The tides, if one cared to summarize all the various conflicting +reports, were everywhere disturbed; too high a flow; too low an ebb. +Everywhere they were growing steadily lower. Harbors and channels +were losing depth. Reefs and bars and harbor shoals, which last year +were covered at high water, this year were never covered. High tides +everywhere were not quite high enough, while low tides, all over the +world, were breaking all previous records. + +By June there was much comment on this. Most of it, outside of shipping +circles, was jocular. What of it? The age of air was upon us; who cared +what the water was doing, except possibly the fishermen? + +Had there been no censorship, authentic scientific analysis of +conditions would very soon have stopped all levity. It did stop, on +July 18, when Dr. Plantet prevailed upon the world governments to make +the matter fully public. + +That last voyage of mine in June was without incident, save one. It was +witnessed only by myself and Arturo; one occurrence, most significant +of all that had preceded it. Arturo had made half a dozen voyages with +me. He loved the sea. He would have none of air travel, nor surface +sailing; but the sub-sea seemed to hold a lure for him. Hours at a time +he would sit by my elbow at the tower window, gazing forward into the +glow of our headlight. + +I wondered why Dr. Plantet let him go on this last voyage, which, at +best, seemed hazardous. I was not present in their Maine coast home +when Arturo parted from his father and Polly; but when he and I left +the Continental Air-Liner at San Francisco and boarded my ship, Arturo +made one comment: + +“Father wants me to stay in the tower with you all I can, Jeff. He is +fearfully interested in this thing--how much so, well you’ll know when +we get back. He’s worried; so very busy!” + +I too had seen a change in Dr. Plantet these last months; a harassed +look, a gray, haggard aspect of worry, or perhaps overwork. Though what +he, a retired surgeon of forty-five, a student of oceanography as his +chosen hobby, would be working at, I could no more than guess. + +Arturo knew, perhaps, but beyond that one comment he said nothing of +it to me. He was more silent than ever, this voyage. A grim, intent +eagerness seemed possessing him. A dark flush was on his usually +pale cheeks. A trembling eagerness it was. It showed itself in his +smoldering dark eyes; a quiver in his voice, so that any one who did +not know, might have thought that fear was upon him. + +He sat with me throughout every watch, peering into the white headlight +beam. Green depths of water surged at us; a fish occasionally surprised +by our light, darted away. So little to see, and nothing out of the +ordinary. + + * * * * * + +Nothing--until that night in Micronesia, west of the Marshalls. We +were, I think, about ten degrees N., one hundred and fifty-eight +degrees E.--it had been some hours since I had checked our exact +position. Arturo and I were at the forward tower bull’s-eye. Nothing to +see save green speeding water. And then, abruptly, it flashed at us--a +dim, illumined something in the ocean far ahead, flashing forward as we +sped seemingly directly at it. + +Arturo gripped me. “Jeff!” + +The lookout’s voice in the bow-hood sounded simultaneously from the +speaker beside us. + +“Danger ahead.” + +And a duplicate of the engine-room bells, and automatic warnings to the +control operators sounded. In the mirror overhead I saw reflected the +startled faces of the two men in the control tower; saw them throwing +over the wheels. + +We turned to port and slanted upward to the surface; so sudden a change +that the ship listed perceptibly. An instant only. The whole thing +was so swift at our fifty knot speed that in an instant the hovering +thing had come--and passed. But we saw it, the vision of it distinctly +registered upon our startled minds. + +A dim, illumined something far ahead of us, glowing as the bow light +picked it up. It grew, in seconds, to something round: a globe twenty +feet in diameter perhaps. Metallic? I think so. It glowed darkly +luminous and smooth in our light. A globular thing, with projections +as though it might have been some monster sea-spider, risen from the +deeps, resting up here near the surface with crooked, folded legs. + +I recall my instant, fleeting impressions. A thing solid, metallic, +mechanical. A lurking thing of a strange, sinister aspect--a thing +diabolical. It flashed off sidewise and down as we turned, a darkly +shining globe with a great round white spot on it like an eye! + +Arturo showed unexpected presence of mind. He reached with one hand +for the telescope range-finder; and with the other for a stern +searchlight, and trained them both upon the fleeing object now passing +under our keel. + +“Jeff, look!” + +The telescope image showed for an instant in the mirror on a shelf +before us as Arturo flung on the current. An enlarged image of a convex +window, like glass, transparent with a dim green light behind it. A +face was there at the window. Human? I do not know. But it showed in +that momentary impression the face of a young girl. Lurid, ghastly with +the green glow upon it. Beautiful? Perhaps that. Or weird, unearthly. +I recall the intent staring eyes, the parted lips, as though with +labored, frightened breathing. A startled face, framed in a tangle of +tresses. But it was more than just startled. Those staring green eyes! +I met them full, in the mirror. + +[Illustration: _For an instant he saw the strange face in the +mirror._] + +And the light from them struck at me with a shudder and a lure. + +An instant. Then the face, the image in our mirror, was gone. I reached +up and snapped off the current. My fingers were trembling. + +Arturo murmured, “Oh.” + +He was sitting very still, staring blankly as though the vision of that +face was still before him. + + + + + CHAPTER II. + + “COMING UP, FROM UNDER THE SEA!” + + +The lookouts had seen the globe; even the old man, on his emergency +mirrors in his cabin, had caught a brief glimpse of it. He stopped +us at the surface. There was nothing up there; a calm, empty moonlit +tropic sea, with nothing in sight except the lights of a distant +passing liner ten thousand feet or so overhead. + +We dived, and cruised around, from fifty fathoms to the surface. But +there was nothing to be seen. + +I think that none but Arturo and myself had caught the vision of that +girl’s face. We did not mention it. Arturo pleaded earnestly: + +“Don’t, Jeff. Father would rather you did not, I’m sure. We’ll tell +him, let him inform the proper authorities.” + +I was determined, in the interests of my superiors, that our +director-general should know as soon as I reached New York. But that +was no reason for spreading it aboard ship. + +It was the only abnormal incident of that last voyage. Naturally it +left me wondering, as if here were the key-piece to all these scattered +happenings. + +A thousand vague conjectures, romantic, fearsome, surged within me. +Ships drawn under. Ships, always food-laden. And queerly hovering in +my mind was the persisting crazy impression of that girl’s tangled +tresses--like seaweed. I found myself waking up one night from a dream. +A girl with glowing green eyes, and tangled flowing tresses like +seaweed, was singing softly; and the song swept me with a trembling +desire. + +Arturo was more silent than ever for the rest of the voyage. I tried to +discuss the thing with him. He shut me up sharply. + +“Father will want to see us. You can talk about it then.” + +We were on time picking up the channel lights of our home port. +Following close along the bottom, we cruised in between the two beacons +of the twenty-fathom depth. The old man was beside me. He gestured +toward our beacon chart. + +“Those lights, Jeff, are at twenty fathoms, low tide. You and I know it +as well as we know our names. But look at them!” + +We were passing level with the caisson. Twenty fathoms! This was low +tide now, and it did not need the special danger bulletins which had +been flashed to us at every port all the way from Java, to warn us that +something was wrong. Twenty fathoms? There were barely ten! + +Arturo and I transshipped to the continental passenger liner; and +again at New York we took the Rekjavik Local Mail, with first stop at +Portland. Polly met us at the Portland landing stage. + +“I’ve our plane here. Come on.” She kissed Arturo and gave me her hand. +“You’re safe! We’ve been rather worried, until we got your landing +message.” + +Arturo’s sister was a year older than he--at this time, nineteen. As +different from Arturo as a sister well could be. She was a practical +little person; there was nothing of the ineffectual dreamer about Polly +Plantet. They were distant relatives of mine, and I had known Polly +since she was ten. We called her then, “Roly Poly”; a chunky little +girl, with a round moon-face and long chestnut curls. I recall how she +hated the nickname; but, instead of crying, she dashed at us boys, +fighting us with flailing little fists. + +At nineteen her “moon-face” had lengthened; but it was still solidly +practical. + +Her figure was not chunky now, but even the most lavish flatterer +would never have called her willowy. A solidly wholesome, determined +little thing this Polly Plantet. Quiet of demeanor, purposeful, yet +withal tempered by a feminine softness. In stature she was something +around five feet. Vigorously healthy, she seemed to me the very +personification of healthy, normal young womanhood. + + * * * * * + +Dr. Plantet’s wife had died when Arturo still was in infancy. They +had lived then in Martinique, where the children were born. A mixed +heritage: Dr. Plantet Anglo-Saxon--his wife Latin, with both French and +Spanish mingled in her. Polly was so like her father that one could +never mistake them, while Arturo was romantically Latin. + +Motherless, Arturo had found in Polly almost a mother. Dr. Plantet +was by nature intolerant of human failings, or so at least it always +seemed to me. He did not understand his son, and to Polly went, if not +his greatest love, certainly all the understanding comradeship of their +daily life. + +But Polly understood her brother. The essential, womanly softness of +the girl’s nature showed at its best with Arturo. Only a year older +in age, she was vastly older in maturity. She was at once, to him, a +sister and a mother; and a buffer between him and his father. + +A little diplomat, Polly knew when to lead, rather than drive. No one +could drive Dr. Plantet; nor Arturo either, for that matter--it was +almost the only quality which he and his father had in common. Yet they +loved each other deeply, of that I am sure. + +Polly led us from the Portland landing stage, down the spider incline +of moving pedestrian lanes to the lower stage where the private +vehicles were stalled. Our luggage had preceded us in the chutes. + +“We’ve been worried, Jeff. A hundred times father regretted letting +Arturo go.” + +“Well, I went,” said Arturo. + +“Yes, boy dear--you went. It was foolhardy; Jeff’s directors should +never have taken the chance.” + +We climbed into the small plane which Polly had brought; the guards +shot us off. It was 1 A.M. of the night of July 15-16. A warm, +flawless night of brilliant stars, with the last quarter moon not yet +risen. We darted up from the clanking Portland terminal like a humming +wasp, and headed northeast along the coast. + +I went back to Polly’s last remark. “There seemed no danger, Polly; we +saw nothing unusual. Except--” + +I glanced at Arturo. + +“I’ll tell her,” he said. He told her. Simply, unemotionally--with so +queer a lack of emotion that it seemed a mask. She made no comment. +She, too, seemed abnormally restrained. And upon us all presently +descended a silence; to me, an oppression--a sense of fear. Yet it +was not exactly that either; rather the feeling of something strange +crowding about us, something unknown. + +These queer world events; this impending something--unnatural, +uncanny--crowding us now, making us silent as though we feared to hear +the voicing of our own thoughts. There were millions of people in the +world these days who laughed and scoffed and thought it a jest that +the tides were wrong, and vessels were disappearing; and who would +have said, had we told them we had seen a girl’s face within a globe +floating in the ocean depths, that we were drunk, or dreaming that +Homer had come to life again with modern trimmings. + +But there were others, I am sure, millions of them, who felt uneasy, +with panic hovering at hand. Like the presage of a fearsome, unseen +storm below the horizon, there was something in the air all over the +world. Crowding at us--something very strange, perhaps diabolical. + +And it had marked Dr. Plantet. I could see that at once, this night, +far more clearly than the previous month, by his harassed, almost +haggard look; the surprising and, in him, unnatural, warmth and +tenderness of greeting as he put an arm about Arturo’s shoulders and +welcomed him home; his solemn, almost grim manner as he listened to +what we had seen, there under the water in Micronesia. + +He turned to me: + +“I’ve something to tell you, Jeff. Arturo and Polly understand a good +deal of it, but not all. It is clear now, this thing we’ve got to face. +I’ve persuaded the authorities to make it public. + +“The world must know--must face it. We cannot be ostriches with our +heads buried in the sand. Polly, have Frantzen carry down the luggage +and run in the plane; and then bring us out some lunch. We’ll sit out +here. It’s too hot inside.” + + * * * * * + +We sat in a small stone bower on the shore front, with the stars over +us, banks of flowers and ferns heaped around us; and, ahead, the +open sea. The moon was just rising over the distant ocean horizon--a +flattened, spoon-shaped crescent, hugely yellow. It flung a golden path +toward us over the lazy, breathing sea. A strip of beach, golden in the +moonlight, lay at our feet, with grim frowning rocks and headlands to +the sides. + +Nature as it used to be! There were no aërials in sight here, no +landing stages; nothing of our modernity to remind one of a world +mechanical with trees and grass and the moon almost forgotten. Yet +even so, at our feet the disturbed world of 1990 obtruded. The strip +of beach was naked of water; it sloped out and down to a rocky, slimy +shelf, plunged steeply another twenty feet down to where the fallen +ocean lapped at it. And in the moonlight the outer rocks and headlands +stood queerly high, misshaped of aspect. + +To me, with the oppression of spirit upon me, the sight was suddenly +ugly--huge darkened teeth upstanding with gums receded to expose the +spreading roots! + +Dr. Plantet had been talking quietly. Now, indeed, I understood in +a measure what he had been through these past weeks. A man, still +vigorously young in his forties, though to-night one would have said +he was fully fifty or more. He was a vigorous, stocky figure of a man; +rather short, exceedingly muscular, with wide shoulders and a deep +chest. A solid face, smooth-shaved, with deep-set gray eyes, and sparse +brown hair graying at the temples. It was a kindly face. There was much +to like in Dr. Plantet if one did not oppose him. But it was a stern +face; harsh when stirred to anger. + +At forty, wealthy by inheritance, he had given up his career of surgeon +at the height of his national fame. He had always loved the sea; in +his student twenties he had served as surgeon on one of the last of the +old-fashioned passenger ships. Oceanography had always been his hobby; +to explore the ocean depths was one of his dreams. Illogical in his +intolerance of Arturo? I always thought so; indeed, I had once heard +Polly tell him so, in Arturo’s absence. But she could not make him see +it. + +He told us now what he had been doing these past weeks. Consulting with +the scientists of the world governments; analyzing the conflicting +world reports. + +Ah, so much had happened, kept from all publicity! A huge secret +meeting of scientists from all the world governments had been held last +week in London. Dr. Plantet had been there. This thing that had been +growing upon them all for weeks, now was obvious. The world would have +to be told, and preparations made to meet the new conditions--to fight! + +Dr. Plantet, essentially the fighter, must have played a leading part +in this final discussion, forcing them to his views. It was growing +upon me gradually as he talked. The strangeness of it, the strange, +weird fear of it. + +“Fight--what?” I ventured. I glanced at Arturo, a slim young figure in +white, with flowing white sleeves. He sat, chin cupped in his hands, +with knees hunched up; in his intent white face, his dark dreaming eyes +were gazing off at the rising moon. He seemed not to be thinking of his +father’s words, but dreaming dreams of his own. + +I repeated, “Fight--what, Dr. Plantet?” + +From the house Polly came breathless, bearing the tray of refreshments. + +“The newscaster from Melbourne has been on the air--I’ve been listening +to him. Father, they keep on making a joke of it! They’ve seen a +mermaid on a desert island beach in Micronesia!” + +Arturo turned silently. Dr. Plantet said: “Did they give the position? +What sort of mermaid? Who reported it?” + +“Yes; they gave an island at nine degrees thirty minutes N, one +hundred and fifty-seven degrees twenty-five minutes E. I looked it up. +There’s an unnamed island there, the tiniest of dots on the chart. +Uninhabited--an atoll I imagine, of a few acres.” + +Dr. Plantet took some of the food; but I noticed that his hand was +unsteady. Arturo gestured the tray away and sat brooding. + + * * * * * + +Polly was saying: “A mermaid! A passing fishing roamer saw it at dawn a +week ago. They didn’t speak of it officially on the air, but yesterday, +when they got back to Suva, the sailors told of it. A mermaid, sitting +on the coral beach before the dawn, braiding her seaweed hair! They +saw her, from miles away with the glasses. The ship had no electric +image-finders. But they saw her sitting there. And some of the sailors +swear that in the silence of the dawn they could hear her singing, but +that’s nonsense. I suppose the master had official instructions to +avoid such a thing, so he kept on going and did not land. The sailors, +some of them, were frightened. But others wanted to land and capture +the mermaid. Can you imagine--superstitious ignorant men in this day +and age!” + +She was breathlessly excited. A mermaid, on a desert, south sea beach, +sitting braiding her seaweed hair, singing to the sailors of a passing +ship. The world was laughing at the tale. + +Arturo said, very quietly: “You’d better tell us, father, what is going +to be done. Jeff doesn’t understand fully yet.” + +The tray of food stood neglected. Dr. Plantet lighted a cigarette and +sat back apparently relaxed. He spoke quietly, at first precisely, as +though carefully choosing his words to my understanding; but there was +in his voice a grim sense of power, and his burning eyes clung steadily +to my face. + +“Jeff, this is no new thing to me. This culmination is, I grant; I had +never thought of actually living to see it. But the possibility. Jeff, +for years I have been studying what, in popular language, they call +‘our unknown earth.’ What lies within our globe. Beneath the surface +of our seas, that we know. But deeper still--beyond, beneath the ocean +bottom--then what? Some six miles it is, Jeff, from the summit of Mount +Everest to the ocean level. And another six miles to the abyss of +the Nero Deep. Twelve miles or so. What is that? Our globe has eight +thousand miles of interior. We humans have brought a scant twelve miles +within our ken. Twelve miles out of eight thousand. Infinitesimal. It +sounds incredible--but it is true. And yet some of us think we know +something about our world. We do not--for most of it is as unknown to +us as the moon. + +“These vast oceans, this hydrosphere of ours, embraces nearly +three-quarters of the earth’s surface. You know its mean depth is not +much over two miles. We think of these oceans as tremendous--this +gigantic layer of water, so enormous of volume. It is not. On an orange +it would represent an uneven skin thin as tissue paper. Compared to +the wholly unknown interior volume of our earth, that’s all it is--a +film-layer of water, like tissue paper on an orange. Insects, crawling +on the tissue wrapping--what do they know of the orange?” + +He gestured again. “You see what I’m getting at, Jeff? Our oceans are +receding. The volume of water in them, compared to the volume of the +earth, is very small. It is receding--vanishing. But where could it +go? The last geodetic survey, Jeff, was startling. It helped to show +enormous errors in several physical facts about the earth which for +a century have been accepted as true. Yet, for twenty years now, +astronomers and physicists have known that the calculated density of +our earth does not check, within the limits of a tremendous probable +error, with the earth’s volume, or its mass, or its gravitational force. + +“Something is wrong. All the figures, when one set of calculations is +checked against another, seem wrong. We know it. And, as I pointed out +to them in London last week--with present-day facts to prove it--the +Granthin-Morley theories of 1960, scoffed at as they were, hit the +truth. If our earth were a wholly solid globe, or nearly so as we have +chosen to consider it, with a liquid core of molten rock perhaps--if it +were that, with the volume as we know it to be, its total mass would be +far greater than our figures show. But the mass we know to be a true +figure. The calculated total volume is correct. The gravitational force +cannot be questioned. What then is wrong? The density! One-tenth of our +globe’s volume, at the very least, must be empty space! A honeycomb +perhaps.” + +Dr. Plantet sat up abruptly. “Jeff, there is in Holland a fellow named +De Boer. He is, I think, the most eminent geologist we have to-day. He +stood up last week and told them that our outer core, from the surface +of the earth to a depth of a hundred miles, must be honeycombed. And +Dr. Jaeger, of the Hawaiian Research Bureau of Vulcanology, supported +him. Ah, now you are beginning to understand, Jeff!” + + * * * * * + +I was, indeed! This thing, so strange! Yet so logical, inevitable, that +I could wonder how in all these æons of our earth’s history it had +never happened before. + +I ventured, “The oceans are receding--” + +“Yes. Not a question of tides--no tiny disturbed fluctuations. A +general receding. There are nearly ten fathoms gone now--half of it +within the last week. Pearl Harbor is nearly empty, since you left +it! A narrow channel, nothing more. Did you get a look at New York +harbor? And here at our feet--The whole world is wondering, Jeff. But +they are keeping it off the air, and out of the newsprints. The people +think--most of those who have the intelligence to think at all--that it +must be local. These crazy tides!” + +He waved away that angle of it with a gesture. “Where is the water +going? We do not know, but we can imagine. This tissue paper layer of +water is receding doubtless into the vast honeycombed interior of our +hundred-mile core. They’ll say, ‘Why, this is very strange. It never +happened before, why should it happen now?’” + +His voice was edged with sarcasm. “How do we know it never happened +before? Our little human knowledge embraces a few thousand years out +of the hundreds of millions of our globe’s life history. Indeed, we +do know that the ocean level has never stayed the same. Perhaps, over +æons of time, the oceans rise and fall--empty and refill like a shallow +cove with its tides. And this is only the same thing done suddenly. An +earthquake, early this year perhaps, at the bottom of one of our ocean +basins, opened a rift to let the water down. Dr. Jaeger thinks it may +possibly have been that--the seismographic records show three such +disturbances last winter. Whatever it is, the fact is here upon us. The +public is going to be told, to-morrow or the next day. The oceans are +emptying of water! It may stop any day. Or it may go on--completely to +empty them! It may take years--centuries. Or it may continue quickly, +more quickly than ever, until all the ocean beds are dry!” + +He did not pause; he smiled his ironic smile. “The public will be +thrilled! But not when they stop to think about it. The newscasters +will picture the great new realm of land. Three times as much land +as we already know. Geography suddenly expanded. A rolling desert of +lowlands from New York to London! Mountains and valleys down there. +Land, sloping down from the heights of New York--over the new desert +regions we have called the North Atlantic, up again to the heights +which were the British Isles. It will be so thrilling! What wonders may +be exposed. Ah, but they won’t be so joyfully thrilled when the reality +comes. + +“I heard last week a score of meteorologists give an opinion--and not +one of them could agree on what it will do to us! What change to our +rainfall? Our springs? Our fresh-water supply? Dr. Jaeger stood on the +rostrum; and we asked him what might happen. At this present moment +the pit of Kilauea, Mauna Loa, Haleakala--all of them out there--are +throwing up steam instead of lava and rock. The volcanic disturbance +seems greatest in the Pacific--Etna is quiet to-day. We asked Jaeger +if that would continue. Or grow worse. Would there be devastating +earthquakes? He answered us very simply. The words of a truly great +man, Jeff. He said: ‘I do not know.’” + +There was a brief silence. Arturo had not moved; he still sat moodily +staring over the moonlit, fallen ocean. Polly sat breathless, with +parted lips, her eyes upon her father. Her hand touched his knee. + +“You do not mention the most serious thing of it all, father.” + +The questions had been trembling within me. The ships that disappeared; +this thing we had seen in the ocean; this mermaid they said they had +seen on a South Sea beach. + + * * * * * + +Dr. Plantet’s voice took a graver tone. “Ah, that!” He turned from +Polly, to me. “Jeff, we humans, as we call ourselves, have been living +for a few thousand years out of millions of centuries. We occupy +and know only a tiny fraction of our globe. Yet we have the temerity +to assume that what we do not see, does not exist. Other beings are +here--human of form, like ourselves. They do exist! Doubtless in +the last few thousand years since we came--from them perhaps--to +inhabit the surface, they have forgotten us. But now they have +remembered--discovered us.” + +His voice took on a sudden vehemence. “This is theory, +speculation--call it what you will. But they couldn’t face me down in +London--there is too much evidence. It’s nothing new to me, Jeff; I’ve +always been speculating on it. Do you suppose that all the legends of +our primitive peoples are founded upon nothing? It is not reasonable. +From whence sprang the idea of a world of gods? Supermen. Beautiful +women. The oceanids? Sea-nymphs--mermaids--beautiful sea-maidens +because that was our human sex instinct to picture them that way. The +gods--Titans--the personification of beautiful, virile manhood--that, +the picture of them, was a human instinct, too, the outlet of primitive +fancies, half fearful, half poetic. + +“But from whence came the basis of it? All legends of every one of our +ancient peoples--all of them picture unknown beings, here with us upon +our earth. Too universal to be a coincidence! Some of us say: ‘Why, +those ignorant ancients saw the dugongs, with breasts like women, and +called them women of the sea! Or saw seals, and thought them mermaids.’ +It may be so--but it hardly explains so universal a similarity of +legends. + +“For myself, I prefer to think that throughout the ages, this other +race, this other civilization, has made occasional contact with ours. +Perhaps their own legends tell of a great ethereal world of brightness +with strange men like gods. Occasional, inevitable contact. You and +Arturo saw what? A mermaid? If you had lived a few thousand years +ago you might have built a legend around her--and sung some immortal +song in her praise. Ah, Jeff, we have not advanced very far! They +saw a mermaid on a beach in Micronesia last week; and if we let them +alone--though this is 1990, Jeff--the newscasters would presently blaze +out with doggerel verse about her. Where is the difference?” + +My head was whirling with it. Not his sarcastic gibes--but this thing, +incredible, but proved by every detail of what had already happened. +Facts not to be denied. Diversified happenings, so reasonless until the +key piece was supplied! Ships drawn under. Ships, always food-laden. + +Dr. Plantet was saying: “They’re coming out, Jeff, these people +of our vague legends. I conceive possibly--and Jaeger and De Boer +agreed with me--that this sudden subterranean outlet of our oceans +is not necessarily from a natural disturbance. Perhaps these other +humans--they must at least be human, our ancestors perhaps, and I think +probably more advanced than ourselves--perhaps they have found the +water a barrier and have planned to drain it away. + +“There is a clear connection in every fact we have observed, Jeff. +They are under the Pacific Ocean undoubtedly. Coming up to steal our +ships for the food they contain! They have done that. But what worse +will they do? Come up when the water is drained, and attack us? I think +so. I think even now they may be coming, with what strange devices to +conquer the ocean depths--and to conquer us--we can only guess. Coming +up to conquer for their own uses the bright ethereal realm of their +legends! I believe that is what is going on down there now! And we must +prepare for it. I’ve told our governments so, and they see that it +is a fact. The world public will know it by day after to-morrow. The +strangest danger that ever has threatened us. No use trying to avoid +it. No sense in trying to explain away facts which nothing else can +explain. You can’t say ‘This is too strange, it cannot happen.’ That’s +childish, because it is happening. The greatest menace in our history +is upon us!” + + + + + CHAPTER III. + + TWO THOUSAND FATHOMS! + + +I find it difficult to convey a picture of those following days. Upon +so large a canvas as our great, diversified world surface, the few +futile strokes I can give must leave most of all to the imagination. +What fragments came within my limited knowledge I can tell as they +recur to me. No one could grasp it as a whole, except those in +authority, flanked with their busy scientific staffs, poring over +endless reports, charts, summaries of world conditions and the myriad +of diversified world happenings--abnormal, startling, fearful some of +them; wide-flung events seemingly so unrelated, but each making up its +tiny portion of the whole. + +We got them there in Dr. Plantet’s home at Sea End hourly from the +newscasters. Ten fathoms of water gone from the oceans, harbors dry, +rivers tumbling down new waterfalls where once had been the river’s +mouth. A hundred local items of emptied water fronts, fishing vessels +stranded in the harbor mud, canals being closed everywhere to traffic. + +A lurid, dramatic broadcasted advertisement by the Associated Bureau +of World Air Commerce: “Schedules changed to meet new conditions. Air +lines to the rescue! Stranded island and coast ports to be given air +traffic. A thousand new local ships to be commissioned at once.” An ad +by the great Dayton builders, requiring additional men for the night +shifts. + +Hundreds of such things. Newscasters by the hour recited dry statistics +of harbor depths, local climate changes, routine weather reports, +a learned, somewhat pessimistic summary of the world’s fresh water +supplies. A company organized to drill, wholesale, for artesian wells. +A panic in the hot spring area of New Zealand. A spouting geyser +reported bursting into existence in the Soudan desert. Etna and +Vesuvius quiet--the Pacific volcanoes all spouting steam. + +The newscaster’s voice came day and night from our receiving grid. The +tape clicked beside it, an endless stream of recorded events. + +An exodus of people from the Gaspé fishing region; signs of a growing +tendency to panic throughout all the South Seas; a Japanese mandate +that none must travel from one island to another; an iceberg coming +down far below the normal summer limit of drift in the North Pacific; +ocean currents disturbed; a prognostication of what the new rainfall +might be in various localities. + +“Rot!” snorted Dr. Plantet. “They do not know--there is no one who +knows anything about it!” + +The British Isles were perturbed. There was much learned discussion +concerning the Gulf Stream. Without it the cold of an almost Arctic +winter would settle upon London. They had always been perturbed over +the precious Gulf Stream, these Britishers. I recall reading that +three-quarters of a century ago some of them had been bothered by the +Yankee railroad from Florida to Key West. And when the additional road +causeways were completed there was more British comment, claiming that +the Gulf Stream was influenced adversely to effect the mild British +winters. Nonsense, of course. But they had real cause now to be worried. + +With my company giving me definite leave, I was free these days to +remain with the Plantets. Dr. Plantet seemed to want me. He hinted that +he would need me for some rôle in this world drama that I might play +to advantage. He no more than hinted at it; but I waited, eagerly to +welcome it. + +We spent most of our time at the air speakers. Polly was excited, tense +with it all. Arturo said almost nothing. I was too engrossed at the +time to remark him closely. But I recall that queer aspect of brooding; +an absorption in his own queer thoughts; a moodiness. He seemed, often, +to want solitude. + +I would miss him from the instrument room, finding him perhaps sitting +on the shore front, where, far out on a slimy, descending slope, the +ocean lapped a full seventy feet from where it should have been. A +graceful, slim figure of a boy with gentility stamped in every line +of him; a romantic little figure, like Raleigh, the boy, Sir Walter, +sitting at the ocean’s edge, brooding, dreaming his own dreams with the +lure of the sea upon him. + +Looking back upon it the comparison strikes me. But at the time I +recall I was annoyed with Arturo. He impressed me as rather sullen--a +spoiled, sullen boy. Dr. Plantet had one evening said something with +an edge to it--some trivial thing, unimportant; and Arturo had flushed +with a deep, angry flush--and with quivering lip, had left the house. +It was hours before he returned. + +We had had numerous world reports that evening of vital +interest--especially to any normal young man. But Arturo barely glanced +at the printed tape lying in the basket; and wholly without interest +sat in a shadowed corner of the room. It hurt Dr. Plantet--himself +so actively plunged now into this coming crisis of the world’s +history--hurt him that he should sire a son like this. + + * * * * * + +My picture seems confused. In that quality it approximates the reality, +for these days of July, 1990, were indeed a confusion. + +Dr. Plantet was away for a day several times. Always, while at home, +for hours at a time he was shut up alone in the instrument room, +talking to New York or London; consulting. A stream of incoming +official calls demanded him. I heard him once when he had left the +audible speaker connected--heard him being questioned regarding the +progress of his ship; and he had replied that already the successful +casting had been made in the Norfolk shops. + +I demanded of Polly what that meant. + +“He’ll tell you presently, Jeff. You--look here, Jeff, that reminds +me.” She put her hands up to my shoulders, holding me to face her. +Dear little Polly, so earnest! Her brown eyes were glowing with her +earnestness. “Jeff, when father tells you, I want you to persuade him +that I am in it, too. You will, won’t you?” + +“In what, Polly?” + +“He’ll tell you. He, and you of course, and Arturo--but also myself! +There are to be four--I heard him say that. And I want to be the +fourth.” + +I answered her seriously, as I knew she desired. “I can’t promise that, +Polly, until I know what it is.” + +It was nearly the end of July before Dr. Plantet told me of his plans. +During all these July days of confusion there had been no further sign +of any human enemy menacing our world. Surface traffic by sea had +everywhere been discontinued nor were any submersibles in service. The +oceans were abandoned, while a tremendous activity on the part of all +aircraft organizations was manifest everywhere. + +No sign of an enemy. There had been minor panics among the publics of +the Eastern Islands; but the fear there was gradually waning. And in +the Western world, comparatively remote from the scene of the threat, +the idea of a human enemy whom no one had ever seen, was derided. It +was best perhaps. There is nothing more dangerous than panic. + +But officially there was no derision. Official activities were more +or less secret; rumors of them leaked out, of course, while bulletins +distorted the facts to what officialdom considered was for the public +good. But through Dr. Plantet’s activities I was made aware of much +that was going on. The “Yellow Peril” was lost and forgotten. All the +world’s governments were working together. The huge armored aircrafts +were being recommissioned. Men were being drilled. The Yellow War, with +all its main battles fought in the air, had given a tremendous stimulus +to aviation, and all the devices which it had developed for dealing +death were being made ready anew. + +Underocean warfare was a thing of the distant past. But that, too, +was being resuscitated. I heard that they were building armored +submersibles. A Brazilian engineer, one Lopez, came suddenly into +prominence with his claim for an underwater death-dealing ray. + +They brought forth from the United States Navy Yard shops, new models +of the ancient ocean bombs, called mines--things that could be +electrically exploded. And tiny traveling bomb-ships called torpedoes. + +One of these latter was tested off Hatteras. In Dr. Plantet’s +instrument room we sat watching the test as it showed on one of his +receiving mirrors. It was broadcasted over the world--I suppose fifty +million or more people must have been watching it as we were. We had a +good view; they had the finder on a small plane which circled back and +forth. We saw the small submersible, awash at the surface, shoot out +the torpedo. It came up like a child’s toy, and then dived a few feet. +It traveled swiftly; we could follow its progress by the tiny aërial +projecting up from it, cleaving the surface like the periscope of an +old-fashioned sub-marine. It sped straight for its target--a small +vessel they had towed out and left drifting. There was a dull, muffled +report--we heard it plainly over the audiphone--and a heave of the +water. The small ship presently sank. + +It seemed rather a futile demonstration. But there were rumors of +the Lopez ray--and diving bombs which aircraft could drop from a +considerable height. + +A multitude of official activities. Dr. Plantet was concerned with many +of them--but mostly with this enterprise of his own at Norfolk. He was +almost without sleep. Far into the night he would sit over charts, or +blue prints--or casting up seemingly endless mathematic formulæ. And +several times engineers came from Norfolk to see him, frequently taking +him back with them. + + * * * * * + +On July 29 he chose to tell me what he was doing. + +“Come into the library, Jeff.” It was after midnight, and he had just +returned from a swift visit to Norfolk. “Come into the library, you and +Polly. Where is Arturo?” + +The soft, plaintive notes of Arturo’s violin from his bedroom upstairs +told us only too surely. + +A shadow crossed Dr. Plantet’s tired face; but his muttered +contemptuous oath was vigorous enough. He said brusquely: + +“Very well--let him alone, Jeff. He probably isn’t interested.” + +Polly had joined us. “He is, father--I’ll get him.” + +I heard her voice when she got up the incline: + +“Arturo! Father is back--it’s successful--they’ve tried the hull under +pressure! Boy, dear--” + +The door closed upon her; but she came down presently with Arturo. I +had not seen him all day. + +“_Hola_, Jeff!” He smiled at me. “Good evening, father.” He kissed +his father--I had not seen him do it for a year. “Polly says it is a +success--I’m very glad, father, dear.” + +I did not miss Dr. Plantet’s gesture as Arturo kissed him; nor mistake +it. His powerful hands on Arturo’s slim shoulders seemed involuntarily +to tighten; a caress--and it seemed a gesture of possession, as though +this son, drifting away in spirit, were suddenly restored to him. A +stern, vigorous man, cruel sometimes in his sternness; but I could see +at that instant the love that he bore for his son--could see it in his +convulsive, clinging gesture, as if he feared that Arturo, who had come +to him now, might soon be snatched away. + +It may have been a premonition. + +“Yes, lad, a success. Come into the library--I’ll tell you all about +it.” + +We went in. I sat listening to Dr. Plantet. But for a time my gaze and +half my thoughts were upon Arturo. He seemed this night abruptly older. +He sat with what I fancied were wandering thoughts, striving to listen +to his father, striving to nod, to smile, once or twice to question. +But his mind was on something else--something eagerly frightening. + +I could not miss the tenseness of him, and the new, older aspect of +affection with which he regarded his father and Polly. Something within +his mind absorbed him--burning eagerness for something frightening. + +Polly saw it. She eyed me once significantly; she moved over and sat +beside Arturo, with her arm around him. And he leaned down and kissed +her. + +Strange adventure, which Dr. Plantet now proposed us! Awe-inspiring; +to me, adventurous by nature and with the lure of the sea upon me, it +nevertheless came as a shock. And a great thrill. + +I listened, and presently forgot Arturo, and had no eyes for anything +but Dr. Plantet’s tired, intent face; I had no thought for anything but +his words. He was brief, abrupt. The oceans were receding, but it might +be months before they had fallen appreciably toward their greater +hidden depths. Meanwhile, our governments were preparing to fight some +unknown, unseen human enemy. No one knew the nature of this menace. If +we were to be assailed, where would it be? In the Pacific, doubtless, +but the Pacific is a wide-flung area. + +“I believe,” said Dr. Plantet, “that if we could locate them, we would +find this enemy preparing to attack us. We will be months getting +ready. In the meantime, what? Are we to wait without trying to find +out what our assailants are doing? The floor of the great Pacific +basin--suppose somewhere down there--” + +He paused. I stammered suddenly: “You’ve been building a ship--but the +deeps? Why, it’s unthinkable!” + +“But it is not, Jeff! Oh, the great deeps are beyond us with the water +that now lies over them; they are safe from our prying eyes. But I can +penetrate two thousand fathoms!” + +I think I had never seen him so vehement; a triumph upon him, an +excitement almost boyish with this enterprise the product of his genius +and intrepidity. + +“I’ve been working on it a long time, Jeff--from the very first reports +of the abnormal tides. Polly will tell you how I’ve worked. If we can +locate this enemy, even determine beyond the shadow of a doubt that +there is such an enemy, what a stimulus to our own preparations for +defense--the possibility perhaps of our nation making an attack and +carrying the warfare down to them!” + + * * * * * + +Just to-day, he said, they had tested the hull of his tiny ship for +that depth. Two thousand fathoms--twelve thousand feet! The craft was a +tiny affair indeed! A crew of three or four. A little dolphin, flashing +under the sea with a speed up to seventy knots. + +“In barely two weeks we’ll be ready, Jeff. Oh, they haven’t stinted +me; the government has stood ready with its funds and all its +resources. I’ve had materials from a dozen countries rushed here by +the fastest wasps we could commandeer. I’ve had the pick of all the +technical men developing this new principle. Hydraulics--internal, +reciprocating pressure, call it what you will, we haven’t named it +yet--and I’m using the new Parodyne atomic engine. + +“It’s nearly ready--the cleanest running little thing--Parodyne himself +believes we’ll get seventy knots. The Australian Commonwealth Through +Mail is planning to stop their flyer at Norfolk and carry us over the +Pacific. Set us down where we like to begin our voyage. A diving range +of two thousand fathoms, Jeff--we’ve tested it for that, with a fair +margin of safety. And I can get another five hundred of littoral region +with the Franklin searchlights.” + +Two thousand fathoms! The great unknown oceans, with this little +dolphin of a ship flashing down into them to such a depth! And I was +to be on board! It set a thrill upon me. So might Columbus have felt +when from the queen’s fair hand came the money that made his voyage +possible. But it must have been a thrill both of eagerness and of fear. + +Two thousand fathoms? Why, we could skim the sides of the Tonga and +Marshall Ridges; follow the Marianne Trench to where it yawned into +the Nero Deep. Two thousand fathoms? What gullies might we explore! +What troughs and furrows could we traverse up the steep slopes to the +island-bearing rises! Why, what a realm of the unknown to bring so +suddenly to our ken! + +Dr. Plantet was saying: “You’ll go, Jeff, of course. Ah, now you see +why I’ve kept you here--to be my navigator. I could not find one I +would sooner trust, for all your youth. If our world is to be assailed, +we’ll locate the point of attack--” + +And I was chosen for such a voyage as this! I suddenly saw Dr. Plantet +to be a name immortal; and the man himself sat here planning his voyage +into the great Pacific. And it seemed that something of Balboa and +Magellan and Tasman must be here in the room with us now, hovering +here--something of them, come here to inspire and to welcome this new +maker of the history of the sea. + +And I was chosen to be upon such a voyage as this! I think that the +humble sailors of those ancient lurching ships were thrilled by the +adventure of their enterprise, but thrilled even more by a fear as they +fronted the unknown. + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + + A MARVELOUS DEEP-SEA CRAFT. + + +The Dolphin was ready. We went down to Norfolk with Dr. Plantet upon +his last inspection. At least, Polly and I went; Arturo did not go. He +was ill, he said, and indeed he looked it. Flushed of face, with cheeks +these last days gone thinner; brooding eyes, with an uneasy, restless +gaze that seemed always to avoid us. + +Sardonic words came from Dr. Plantet that morning when we left. Arturo +did not answer them; he moved away in the library, as if suddenly +threatened with childish tears. And Dr. Plantet, wounded to the core of +him, I know turned his back upon his son and stalked grimly out. + +I recall that as we ascended the incline to the air-stage runway I +glanced over to the house. At the library window Arturo’s white face +was staring after us. + +Was he afraid? He had said he would go with us on the voyage, of +course. Polly was going. We needed a cook; some one to care for +our physical wants. Who could do that better than Polly? It was +characteristic of Dr. Plantet that he should thus be willing to expose +her to danger. A stoicism, a subversion of all his instinctive inner +feelings of fear--and a warm pride in her that she should want to aid +us and her world. + +How much more keenly, then, did he feel shame for Arturo! Was the boy +a physical coward? Arturo had said he wanted to go, of course. He was +to record in detail our findings; cartographer upon this adventure to +chart the unknown deeps. He had a skill with mathematical drawings; I +could imagine such a task thrilling him. + +Polly tried to hide for him his lame enthusiasm. His fear? We never +discussed it. And I think now it was very strange that we so little +comprehended this boy we all loved. + +We stood in the Norfolk shops, where the artificial testing canal came +up like a dark thread; stood gazing at the Dolphin as she hung in the +cradle over the rectangle of water waiting to receive her. A little +dolphin of a ship indeed, hanging there with her _ralite_ hull +smooth as burnished copper. A dolphin with trimmed tail and sharply +pointed nose. Eighty-two feet of burnished hull, sleek as the body of a +seal. + +We walked around her; Dr. Plantet showed her points with a creator’s +pride. Hardly a projection to mar this sleek exterior. The vertical +and horizontal rudders might have been a tail; the lateral planes, +flexible, sensitive as the wing-tips of a wasp-flyer, were folded +in against the hull, so closely that the cracks of them were barely +visible. A workman on board slid them out for us--fins opening out to +barely a foot of width, trembling in the air like thin steel sheets. + +There were tiny stern ports for the atomic exhausts; the man on board +swung them to show us how in themselves they could guide the vessel. +There were bull’s-eye windows, like freckled patches on the hull; +and under the bow, like a mouth, a tiny port swung open to expose a +torpedo tube, the craft’s single weapon, with the staring eyes of the +Franklin searchlights above it. + +We climbed over the spider-bridge and went on board. A small bull’s-eye +turret came sliding up for surface cruising; a tiny door gave into it +so that we might crouch through and descend the ladder. + +The upper slope of the hull had ingeniously opened to form a small +level deck upon which we might sit with the ship awash. + +Even for the eighty-two-foot length and a bulge at the middle of some +twenty-four-foot diameter, the interior of the Dolphin was surprisingly +small. Dr. Plantet explained to me his principle of reciprocating +pressures, as he called it. + +But I could comprehend, this day, no more than its generalities--a mere +glimpse of the fundamentals of what now is so famous; and it was many +months before I grasped it in detail. + + * * * * * + +There was an inner hull, so that the interior space of the vessel was +considerably reduced. Within these two _ralite_ hulls, each of +them reënforced with every modern device, was an intricate core of +tiny passages and cells, with water circulating through them under +pressure. A strange yet simple principle of hydraulics--so difficult +mathematically to grasp that none before had ever imagined it. + +It involved many of the intricate laws of modern hydrodynamics--yet in +theory simple as all great things must be. + +The outer hull, crowded by the immense pressures of the ocean’s depths, +would give inward a trifle, to yield its pressure to the water flowing +in the core. And that internal water, so swift of motion, converted the +pressure we call latent into what now physicists are calling kinetic. +Strange term--kinetic pressure. Strange absorption into harmless +gurgling motion of this crushing ocean force which for so long had held +the deeps impenetrable! + +I stared at Dr. Plantet. “Kinetic pressure?” Yet we have accepted as +simple enough the conversion of other energies to be lost in motion. +Latent energy, kinetic energy--terms simple indeed. + +Dr. Plantet started up the pumps. With my ear near the inner hull I +could hear the water circulating. Bubbling, gurgling at first; and +then, as its speed increased, humming with a sound almost electrical. +And at the windows, which now I knew to be double bull’s-eyes, I could +see the water circulating. A thick flat sheet of it flashing past with +a queer, oscillating, wavelike swing so swift the eye could scarce +remark it. + +“These pumps operate automatically, Jeff. A faster flow, as our depth +increases.” He moved the switch-lever over to another contact; the +humming went up to a higher pitch. “Put your hand on the hull, Jeff.” + +The burnished cold surface was gradually warming. He shut off the +pumps. He added: “Curiously enough, Jeff, it gives us heat against the +cold of the depths.” He smiled. “Rather too much heat, if we use the +pumps for more than an hour. But I have a refrigeration coil to help +cool it. I think we shall have no trouble, even when running deep for +considerable periods of time.” + +We were not long on board the Dolphin this morning; there was so +much that Dr. Plantet had to do. A center passage like a narrow +spider-bridge hung midway of the vessel’s interior. + +Beneath it, in the center, the Parodyne engine lay in its terrace of +burnished blocks, with coils and dials and intensifying tubes glowing +dimly yellow in the gloom as Dr. Plantet started it at its lowest +operating force. Almost silent--a vague burring sound as the electrons +were tossed fluorescent in its storage globe--a green fountain of +burring light, running into the outlets, through the pressure valves +of the water-jacket, to plunge at last into the sea beneath our stern. +Tiny electronic streams--there were six of them--reconverted by the +water’s contact from negligible electric mass into ponderable gas of +radiolite, striking the ocean and forcing the Dolphin forward as a +rocket is thrust upward by the fire-stream from its tail. + + * * * * * + +We stood watching the Parodyne for a moment as it worked up its +energy from the morsels of pitchblende it was breaking down into +freed electrons. An ounce of fuel to run us for a day. So silent, so +free-running, one could hardly hear it. A little jewel of a modern +engine, so recently developed that there were only three, even of this +small size, in existence. + +We inspected the several tiny rooms which hung in frames to the sides +of the passage, with the ballast and water tanks and pressure chambers +beneath them. A tiny galley for Polly. Three rooms with bunks; a narrow +space, by courtesy called the diner, with folding table and chairs. + +Forward, beyond the end of the passage, the full conical interior +was built as an instrument room, with the torpedo tube running under +it to nearly amidship, where the torpedoes were stored. The Franklin +projectors were here in the bull’s-eye windows, by which, gazing along +the light, through the jacket of humming water, we could see into the +ocean ahead. I noticed here a score of familiar instruments, and others +strange to me. But Dr. Plantet did not stop now to explain them. + +We went back to the stern. A similar room, rather larger, held charts +and instruments of navigation. A table at which Arturo would work +over the log and the diagrams. And here I saw the apparatus for air +purification--cylinders of oxylithic powder, moisture coils, tubes for +absorbing carbonic acid and all the waste products of our breathing. + +We climbed back to the floor of the shop. By to-morrow our little +vessel would be fully equipped, provisioned, and ready. The Australian +Flyer, westward bound from London to Melbourne, leaving London at +5 P.M. to-morrow evening, would stop and pick us up. The +magnetic cranes lowered the Dolphin into the dark rectangle of canal at +our feet. She lay awash, quiescent, waiting. Polly, trembling with the +thrill of it, christened her with proper ceremony, and the little group +of engineers and workmen cheered. + +We flew back home to “Sea End.” The servants had been given a holiday, +and the house was silent as we entered. I recall a sudden pounding of +my heart--the flash of a thought that Arturo might really be ill! + +“Arturo! Arturo!” Polly’s voice held a quiver of anxiety. The lad +should have been at the gateway to greet us, of course. “Arturo!” Her +voice echoed as she ran upstairs. “Arturo--father, Jeff, come here!” + +We rushed up. Arturo’s room was disordered. Some of his clothes and his +luggage cases were gone. His small personal sending radio was gone from +its accustomed table. In its place was a sheet of paper: a penciled +radio code which evidently he had invented. And a note--a few brief +words in his familiar scrawled handwriting. + +We bent over it; pathetic, scrawled little note: + + FATHER DEAR: Please try to believe in me. Keep the code + and at midnights listen. If I need or want any one, it shall be + only you. I am all confused. I want to do what is best, and I don’t + know. Please try to believe in me. + + ARTURO. + + + + + CHAPTER V. + + NEREID OF THE SEA. + + +The westward-bound Australian mail left its Hendon Airport at 5 +P.M., Greenwich time, August 10. At 9 P.M., +Washington time, in the luminous darkness of the late summer twilight, +we saw its lights over Norfolk--the immense, quadruple banks of its +lighted hull windows. It came down over the landing field where our +little Dolphin, with three of us on board, was lying cradled and ready. +It hovered; its electro-magnetic grapples caught us up; in ten minutes, +with the great flyer on its westward way again, we were stored on its +lower deck. + +Three of us on board: Dr. Plantet, Polly, and myself. We had had no +heart to try and find a last minute substitute for Arturo. We could +handle the Dolphin, we two men. It was, indeed, a craft with every +modern device operated by the levers in its forward instrument room, of +one-man control. + +We had found no trace of Arturo. Dr. Plantet had uttered one anxious, +heartfelt cry: “Why did he not tell me? I would have understood and +advised him.” + +Ah, but there lay the trouble! He would have advised his son; but he +could not, probably, have understood! Whatever Arturo contemplated, +quite evidently he feared that his father would have disapproved of +it. And, disapproving, would have forbidden him to do it, with a gruff +command enforced against all possibility of argument. Arturo knew it; +Polly and I, as we read his timorous, pleading little note, realized it +was true. But Dr. Plantet did not think of that, and there was no one +to tell him, and no use in telling him. + +He had done what he could to trace Arturo. The lad’s own small Wasp was +gone from its hangar. Arturo had gone alone, by air. For an hour that +afternoon when we returned from Norfolk to find him gone, Dr. Plantet +shut himself up with his instruments; notified the authorities; had +every detective bureau at every transfer point and in all the traffic +towers of the country on the watch. But Arturo had evidently planned +carefully. No report of him came to us. + +We were very busy those last hours. With all his worry over his +son--shot through with anger also, I am sure--Dr. Plantet would not let +it interfere with our voyage. That was not his way; though he was right +in that, of course. We were not going on a mere experimental voyage +to try and chart the great unknown deeps. That was a mere incidental. +The oceans were still receding; the deeps might soon be dry, so that +any one could see and explore them. By this August 10, another eight +fathoms were gone from the oceans. Some eighteen fathoms in all--over +a hundred feet. We heard a newscaster give the figures on the evening +of August 9. The oceans down nearly a hundred feet below low tide +levels, everywhere, and the world was seething with the confusion of it. + +Our voyage might locate the cause. But, most important of all, we hoped +to locate this unknown enemy race, somewhere down there, to whose +existence so much evidence had pointed. An enemy, perhaps making ready +to attack our world; we must determine that, one way or the other; +locate the point of attack, if attack there were to be; estimate its +nature, and the best methods of repulsing it. These were the main +reasons for our voyage. The fate of our world might depend upon our +success--and no disappearance of a wayward son could swerve Dr. Plantet +from the least detail of his starting preparations. Within an hour the +affair seemed to be wiped from his mind. + +Flying southwest, the mailship carried us over Mexico during that +evening. We passed to the Pacific at latitude twenty-two degrees N. +At fifteen degrees N. and one hundred and twenty degrees W., some one +thousand two hundred miles off the Mexican coast, Dr. Plantet told them +that they could put us down. By local time for that longitude, it was +then nearly midnight. + +The cranes lowered us into a placid sea; we lay awash, the three of us +standing on the tiny deck of the Dolphin, watching the lights of the +great liner vanish among the southwest stars. The lights winked, red +and green and purple, and presently were gone. + +We were alone on the falling Pacific. Our enterprise was begun! + + * * * * * + +I must recount now the strange adventure to which Arturo had set +himself alone. From what he afterward told Polly, and, to a lesser +degree, his father and myself, I can construct a picture of it. A +picture no doubt lacking much in detail, for none could fathom the +emotions that beset him. Yet withal it may be fairly accurate, for I +doubt if he himself could have analyzed his motives. + +Guiding him, no doubt, was the clear vision that upon his own slender +shoulders might rest the salvation of his world. That, perhaps, was his +compelling urge. I have no doubt but that he thought so. But beneath +it, mingled with it, was what may have been an even stronger urge--a +strange lure. + +He had planned it for a long time. He had fought against it, for there +was a fear lurking in it, a strange instinctive dread, mingled with +the urge that seemed rushing him on. He would have gone before, but he +could not find opportunity. Our departure for Norfolk that morning gave +him his chance. + +There was a night--I think it was the evening of August 1--when he made +up his mind definitely that he must act alone. It was that evening we +heard the newscaster say that a fast air cruiser had been dispatched by +the American Government from Guam to the uninhabited island upon which +the mermaid had been reported. A formidable company of marines had +landed with a flourish upon the outer shoals to which the ocean now had +receded. They had scrambled up to the beach and searched the island to +capture this mermaid. But nothing human or otherwise had been found to +capture. + +It came to Arturo evidently as at once a disappointment and a +relief. And it spurred him to his decision. If his adventure had any +rationality, any possibility of success, it must be undertaken alone. I +think, too, that secretly in his heart he welcomed this. + +He took his radio sender and a copy of his improvised radio code; in +his Wasp, which he had provisioned and fueled, he started from “Sea +End” within an hour after we had left. The Wasp, tiny as it was, could +do a good three hundred. He flew north, and high, taking his chances +with the traffic towers, who would have ordered him down below the five +thousand foot lane upon any normal occasion. But this was not a normal +occasion. The country was in confusion; the air directors were all +more or less lax. Arturo was visible that morning to a score of their +finders. But none, evidently, bothered to record his number; and when +the air police, dutifully pursuing Dr. Plantet’s inquiry, sought to +check the travel, there was no one to report his passage. + +Arturo was no fool. He had guessed all this, and played upon it. He +clung to the ten and twenty thousand foot through lanes. With his three +hundred mile speed he swept north far into Quebec; turned west, passing +over the Dominion, where he guessed they would be even more lax. He +went west, crossed the middle of Vancouver Island. At Alberni he took +a necessary chance and refueled. He had played skillfully for his +favorable wind-drift, and made good time. By ten o’clock that evening +he was over the Pacific. + +He headed now southwest. It was a calm, clear night. The ten thousand +foot lane was deserted. He lashed his controls, set his warning bells, +and went to sleep. + + * * * * * + +The sun was rising when he awakened. The deserted sea beneath him was +calm. No islands were in sight. The air was clear of craft. + +He seemed poised, motionless and alone between the two matched domes of +sea and sky. He was young enough to be thoroughly refreshed and hungry. +He had slept very nearly nine hours; he ate a lavish breakfast. + +Then he took his position. He found himself in thirty-two degrees +twenty minutes N. and one hundred and fifty-five degrees six minutes W. +Four hours of elapsed time afterward he swept over Gardner Island of +the Hawaiians. The sun was still well in the east--he was gaining an +hour of comparative local time for every fifteen degrees of longitude +he traversed on his westward flight. + +He had feared that the Gardner tower might challenge him, but they did +not. + +It was a long day of flight, but his eager thoughts possessed him. She +might perhaps be there on her island. He wondered if it were the same +girl he and I had seen in the globe beneath the surface. We had seen +that face in the ocean not very far from this same island where the +mermaid was reported. + +Had she been on her way up from the abyss then? Coming up, perhaps +alone? For what reason? + +If she had still been upon the island, those marines, landing there +with such a vainglorious, belligerent gesture, undoubtedly would +have frightened her. She would have hidden, plunging into the lagoon +perhaps, to await their departure. She might still be there. And +Arturo, alone--he told himself that he would not frighten her. He found +himself trembling. Ah, it would not be she who would be frightened; yet +with every fiber of him he longed to encounter her. + +The setting sun before him found Arturo and his little Wasp in the +neighborhood of nine degrees thirty minutes N., one hundred and +fifty-seven degrees twenty-five minutes E. He had met a fresh, strong +head-wind for most of the day. And his engine, over this long, +continuous flight, had been giving him some trouble. He had cut down +his speed. But he was here, at sunset; it was that same evening of +August 10 during which our little Dolphin was being carried westward by +the Australian mail. + +In the late afternoon Arturo had passed over the Northern +Marshalls--the tip of the Ratack Chain. He had seen several of the +through Flyers during the day, passing to the sides far above him; but +none had spoken him. + +“Nereid’s Island.” He was already calling it that in his mind. He would +call her Nereid. + +He had not wanted to reach here before the sunset anyway. In the golden +path of the setting sun he raised the island. At low speed his motor +was quite silent. He might have been a softly humming wasp, circling +over the lonely little island, coming gently down, circling. + +It lay, a strangely augmented patch of land in the fallen ocean. All +around it was a low, outside circular area of green-black and coral +rocks, sloping steeply upward, strewn with shriveled, drying marine +vegetation--at the bottom of which the sea was lapping. A sodden, +upward rocky slope led to where, high up in the air, a fringe of +white beach lay queerly dry. Above that, a crescent area of palms and +vegetation. The inner lagoon was dry--an empty, sandy bowl, perched up +there in the air on a spreading rocky base. + +It seemed no earthly island; a small mountain top with a shallow crater +in its center and a strange fringe of trees and meaningless beach. + +There was no sign of moving object. With his heart pounding, Arturo +gazed down. There were many caverns and pools in the lower slopes from +which the ocean had fallen--she could hide there very easily. + +And then he saw, or thought he saw, something unusual--the bulge of a +metallic surface. It lay nearly submerged in a rift of rock far down +the outer slope at the water’s edge. The globe we had seen in the ocean +that night? + +He fancied so. Lying in that position it would have been well covered +by water when the marines were here. + +In the glowing, glorious twilight of that tropic night, Arturo landed +in the basin of the empty lagoon, then rolled his Wasp up the gentle +slope of the inner beach. + + * * * * * + +He sat there that evening, silently waiting. Over him spread the +blazing southern stars strewn on purple velvet. The arching palm fronds +whispered about him as the night breeze stirred them. Ahead, down the +slope of beach and lower slope of rocks, the sea lay quietly breathing. +A quarter moon was following the vanished sun. It dropped a bright +silver path on the water; it glorified the beach; it laid upon the +brooding little island an amorous spell. + +Arturo sat, edged with silver. Would she see him? Would she be too +frightened? Was she, perhaps, not here at all? + +The moon fell lower. He went, with sudden thought, back to his plane. +He sat again under the palm, and the low voice of his violin throbbed +into the somnolent night. He wondered if she would be as frightened, as +emotion-swept as himself. + +I think, as he sat there softly playing, that the world of 1990 was far +away from Arturo. I think his mind must have been flung back, past all +the counted centuries to those fabulous, magic times when the sea had +no history, but only legend. One of the sailors of Ulysses, with his +ears stuffed with wax against temptation, but being more courageous, or +perhaps weaker than his fellows, might have slipped ashore--and waited +thus, with the wax cast away, singing perhaps a soft song of his own to +tell that he had yielded. + +Arturo must have trembled, as the song of his violin was trembling. +Was this a daughter of Amphitrite, mockingly cast in the fashion of a +woman? Or was it a human girl? + +And then he saw her. Partly behind him, among the long, slanting +shadows of the palms. A dark figure edged in a silver patch. It stood +motionless; then it moved toward him a trifle, and stood again. + +Arturo laid his violin and bow beside him on the sand and very quietly +got to his feet. He could see her better now, only a few yards away. A +small, slim figure of a girl, white-limbed, but flushed like moonlit +coral. A brief, dangling robe, which might have been green; smooth, +lustrous green, as though a fabric of softly woven metal, painted green +by the sea. + +He stood tense, unmoving. The moonlight was on him--his slight, boyish +figure of long, slim black trousers, and white ruffled shirt; his black +tousled hair thick in waves over his pale forehead. + +He stood trembling. She moved again toward him. The moonlight struck +her face. Ah, this must be a human girl! He saw her features--a face of +strange, soft beauty; wide eyes, parted coral lips; a face, timorous, +gentle, eagerly wondering. And framing her face, lying in waves upon +her coral shoulders, a tangled mass of tawny hair. + +No fabulous siren, this! A strange, but very human girl--and yet, for +all that, a siren. + +Arturo spoke, tremblingly, very gently. + +“Nereid! Can you hear me? Can you understand?” + +She stood frozen. But her lips parted with a smile. He said: “Nereid!” +He moved slowly toward her. + + + + + CHAPTER VI. + + THEIR LONELY, LOVELY LITTLE ISLAND. + + +The Dolphin lay, that midnight of August 10-11, awash on the surface of +the Pacific some twelve hundred miles southwest of the Mexican coast. +I had thought that for the time Arturo was far from Dr. Plantet’s +mind. But not so. He made no move to start our voyage until for half +an hour at least he had listened to the air. It was seething with +world-activity--the silent echoes of our busy, modern life. But the +sub-split wave-length which Arturo’s code specified, was dead. + +Dr. Plantet turned at last away. “Nothing there.” He spoke in +matter-of-fact tone, but I could guess at the emotion it was hiding. +“Nothing there--well, we must remember to try again to-morrow night.” + +There was in his manner what seemed to forbid discussion of Arturo. +Indeed, we had much of our own concerns to busy us. We were to head, +Dr. Plantet had planned, directly for the Micronesian islands. Most of +the tangible evidence bearing upon the existence of a human menace, had +seemed to come from that locality. The Malaysia had been lost in there, +and several others of the surface freighters. And the submersible of my +own line. Again, it was there that Arturo and I had seen the face in +the sea; and the mermaid had been seen there. + +“I think,” said Dr. Plantet, “that if we are to locate this hidden +enemy at all, it will be upon some of the rises in sub-sea Micronesia.” + +There was another factor that made him think so. For weeks he had been +assembling world-data showing a disturbance of the ocean currents. +With oceans receding, the water was seeping away somewhere. That the +normal ocean currents were changing was unquestioned. The evidence +was inconclusive, but there seemed to be an unmistakable drift toward +the mid-Pacific. And Dr. Plantet thought that upon the ocean floor in +Micronesia we might find evidence of the outlet. + +We had had, he and I, a considerable discussion on these points. + +“We can only try, Jeff,” he said at last. “But two thousand fathoms, +even with our five hundred fathoms of additional vision, will show us +no more than the mid-depth rises.” + +The mountain ridges. Or the great submerged plateaus; domes; volcanic +sub-sea cones. But if, in the lower basins, the great caldrons or the +deeps, this enemy was lurking, we would have to wait until the water +materially was lowered. And that might be months, or years. + +We were starting from this point so comparatively near the continent +because obviously it might not be in Micronesia at all that the menace +lay. I had wanted to cruise the American continental shelf. Dr. Plantet +would not take the time. He was convinced the danger lay farther +west. But he had agreed that we should start here, and cruise across, +searching as we went. + +We closed up the Dolphin. The turret slid down after us. For all my +hundred sub-sea trips in the Pacific, my heart was beating fast. Polly +touched my hand, as we moved forward along the passage. Her fingers +were cold; but in the dim light I caught her sturdy glance, and saw +that her lips were smiling. + +“Starting, Jeff--at last.” + +“Yes.” I pressed her hand. + +We gathered, all three of us, in the bow instrument room. Dr. Plantet +fingered the control levers. The Franklin lights sputtered and glowed +with their steady white beams; through the circular windows, the light +sprayed ahead of us in the green ocean just below the surface. The +jacket-pumps were throbbing. The windows dimmed a trifle with the +passing sheet of water; but when it flashed faster, they brightened. +The Parodyne atomic engine was operating; the water tanks were filling +under pressure; the lateral planes, like fins, were extended from the +hull outside. + +We had settled, barely to tip the surface. I flung the water-ballast +to the bow; in the silence with only the burring of the Parodyne and +the humming of the pumps, the water came forward with a swish. The bow +dipped. I held the rudder-levers; and released the atomic streams. + +We slid smoothly forward and downward. Little Dolphin, sliding, +forcing its way into the depths, with green phosphorescent sprays of +fire from its sides. + + * * * * * + +It is not my present purpose to describe in detail this voyage. Under +other, less vital circumstances, it would have had a scientific +interest beyond any enterprise of the sea which for centuries had been +undertaken. But we were too engrossed in what we sought--too absorbed +in the possibility that at any moment we, like those others, might be +attacked. In what strange, unnatural fashion we could not guess. It +kept us tense--an aspect of the voyage which we had hardly discussed, +but of which we were very keenly aware, every moment. + +We had only one weapon--the torpedo tube. Six small torpedoes, each +loaded with some three hundred pounds of trinitrotoluene as its +explosive charge. There were also a dozen of the more modern cylinder +bombs of miscellaneous variety, to be dispatched through the same tube. +A mere gesture of warfare! I could not feel that against this enemy it +would be more than a gesture. + +We slid down from the surface. Ah, that first plunge! At the beginning +it was no more than running level, save that I could feel the Parodyne +laboring a trifle and our forward thrust slackening. There was nothing +to see but the dim green water rushing at our lights. Then I saw a fish +of an unfamiliar type; it hung stupidly in the light and then moved +away. We very nearly struck it. + +Five hundred fathoms. A thousand. The red column in the pressure +indicator was rising steadily. The ship was laboring, struggling. The +Parodyne at its higher intensities, developed unexpected strength; the +pressure pumps were humming with a shrill electrical whine. + +Fifteen hundred. + +Dr. Plantet said awkwardly: “I wouldn’t--I’d rather not take her below +eighteen hundred, Jeff. Not at first.” + +Seventeen hundred. The water seemed darker, more turgid, as though down +here the sediment of dead organisms were settled in it like a fog. + +Eighteen hundred! + +“Enough, Jeff; hold us. Watch for elevations of the floor.” + +I could imagine from the aspect of the water that we might be near +the ocean floor. We slid ahead. Our chart showed in this region of +the Pacific an estimated depth of two thousand five hundred to three +thousand five hundred fathoms. But it was not so at this particular +point. Even with all the patient thousands of soundings, how could +they chart with any detailed accuracy the wide-spread ocean basins! We +turned one of the Franklin lights downward. + +A rising slope lay close beneath us, dark and cold, and seemingly black +or dark-red ooze. The ocean floor! Smooth in its contours, almost +level along here, with a gentle rise before us. Protected by the water +from the rapid, sub-aërial erosion which sharpens the features of the +land, piled by the regular accumulation of deposits, it stretched +heavy-featured, morose, mysterious. I could imagine the cold waters +from the frozen poles flowing in sluggish, heavy currents along this +bottom. + +But it was not all so uniform. We had of lighted region ahead of us +barely half a mile. A rounded cliff came sweeping at us. I turned us +aside; the cliff went up and backward to merge with a dome. + +Then presently we found ourselves in a furrow, with elevations on both +sides. We passed, when the furrow widened, over a great black caldron. +The lip of it rose to a thousand fathoms. It was forty miles across--a +pit of blackness, possibly four thousand fathoms or more in its depth, +as though here were some giant crater, filled and immersed. We went to +two thousand fathoms in it, and then rose and surmounted its opposite +rim. + + * * * * * + +But there is no one now to whom the physical conformations of our ocean +basins need be a mystery. And such details here are out of place. + +We ran directly west on the fifteenth North Parallel. We made, each +twenty-four hours, some twelve hundred to fourteen hundred miles. I +give, not the nautical, but the statute measurements. The nautical now, +is turning to be a thing of history. It was midnight of August 14-15 +when our westward searching voyage was ended. Four days, during which +we saw enough details to fill a weighty volume confirming or denying +the groping research and speculations of science. + +But to what purpose? The deep sea animals, the vegetation of the +deeps--it will all find its place in the history of the sea. It has no +place here, for I am concerned only with the little parts my friends +and I played in this great world crisis. Of what use dogmatically to +explain that the great Pacific Basin is not altogether what the charts +picture it? Why describe the steeply narrow ridge winding like a thin +mountain chain up to eight hundred fathoms at its highest elevations, +crossing and recrossing the fifteen parallel? Or mention, as its +discoverer, what now they call the “Country of the Moon”? Jagged pits +and tumbled crags over that plateau a hundred miles in westward extent? +We found that it stretched barely fourteen hundred fathoms deep. + +Such things in detail would obtrude a pedantry into my tale. + +We were south of Hawaii, the midnight of August 12-13. We listened, as +we had listened the previous midnight, for Arturo. But his wave-length +still was dead. We crossed into the Eastern Hemisphere about midnight +of August 13-14. Again no signal from Arturo. Why should there be? I +asked it to myself; I could not dare to voice it to the anxious Polly +and her father. Arturo had said he might signal. But when, or from +where? Perhaps he might not wish to. Or he might be desperately anxious +to do so, and could not. Futile, meaningless speculation. + +We had found that the Dolphin labored under the downward thrust; was +difficult to hold level at the depths; and we slid up the incline when +ascending with a speed too great for safety. I set down these random +notes from my log. + +No sign, either of an enemy attack upon us, or of an enemy’s very +existence. No indication of a rift in the ocean floor. We sometimes +wondered if either one existed. Yet that too, was a futile question! +We had followed a narrow line, like a thread across this small section +of the ocean. More than four-fifths of the time, with the depth too +great for us to see anything, we had shot up to the surface and run +at a few fathoms of depth for the greater safety. We had seen only +an infinitesimal part even of this tiny portion of the area in which +our enemy might be lurking. The futility of it struck us at last. It +occurred to Dr. Plantet, that the sub-marine slopes of the great rise +crowned by the Societies and Tahiti might be worth investigating. +Or the upper reaches of the Japan trench. Or, in fact, any of the +continental shelves. I did not remind him that this latter had been my +original idea. + +We were running north of the Marshalls at noon of August 14. At +midnight, that night, again we listened for Arturo. And this time his +signal came! + +His call, given in the code, repeated at intervals. We answered it, on +our own wave-length which Dr. Plantet was sure the lad knew, if only he +would remember. He did remember, and flashed: + +“Your position?” + +We told him. He sent us: + +“Come at once--nine degrees thirty minutes N., one hundred and +fifty-seven degrees twenty-five minutes E. Hurry!” + +His wave-length went dead. To all our frantic questions it held only +silence. + + * * * * * + +I can picture Arturo, there with Nereid for those four days upon their +lonely, lovely little island. But of necessity it must be a fragmentary +picture with much that I can only guess; and built, too, somewhat from +my own impressions of the girl as afterward I saw her for myself; and +as Polly saw her, and tried to talk with her. The whole translated by +my own poor fancy, into a picture of what Arturo’s emotions for her +must have been. + +She could, even at first, understand his words a trifle; a British +sailor had been drawn under alive, and had lived long enough to teach +her and others some of his language. She learned it with an unnatural +facility. A few broken words that first night; she said them and no +more. But she understood and she was learning; so eager to learn! + +I try now to imagine them that first night of their meeting. There +was a shy, wild fear about her, mingled with a very evident desire +not to be afraid of him. He could not touch her, but he sat near her; +so quietly, so gently. And as I think of his gentle, boyish, romantic +figure, there in the moonlight, I can realize that none but himself +could have approached her. + +Perhaps, that first night, they conversed only in the universal +language of youth. Their crossing glances, eager yet shy, their own +thoughts of what the other must be, as they gazed. Perhaps they drew +together with the universal language of music. Perhaps he again played +his violin for her. Perhaps she sang for him. There is no one to say. + +He found her human as himself. A young girl, barely yet matured, +fashioned with almost a normal earthly beauty, and yet with a strange +something about her, making her different. It was not her slim rounded +limbs, white and flushed with the tint of coral. Nor the thick tawny +tresses, framing her timorous, girlish face. Nor yet her fashion of +dress--her shimmering robe, with moonbeams dancing on it like green sea +water ripples in moonlight. None of these, though in truth they were +all strange enough. + +It was something greater. A wild shyness in her manner; she sat, half +reclining by the palm-trunk; but it seemed that every nerve and muscle +in the young body was tense, as though she would spring away if too +suddenly he moved. A gentle animal, bred in the wilds, might be like +that, mistrustful of the first human hand to approach it. + +And other strange things about her. Her gestures, graceful, yet often +meaningless. And her eyes, as she sat regarding Arturo. The sea was +in her eyes, the changing sea, whipped with wind, dim with mist, wan +with starlight. He gazed, over long silences, into her eyes. They held +level, as she gazed with equal wonderment into his. + +The mystery of the sea was in her eyes. Unfathomable green depths. Eyes +that had seen things he had never seen; things queer, unnatural to him. +But her youth was there; her human womanhood. It glowed eager, yet +afraid; it met him, and it understood him, strange though he must have +been to her. + +I think also, that first night, she tried to talk with him. He +understood at least, her desire to learn his words. And presently he +began teaching her. + +There are other fragmentary pictures I can give. The dawn flushed the +east, and it seemed to frighten her. She moved away from Arturo. But he +followed. She came to a sort of cave entrance; it lay part way down the +rocky slope from which the ocean had so recently receded, and was still +partly filled with water. She slipped into it. Ah, then he must have +been struck with her strangeness anew! She lay in the water relaxed; +a familiarity with it, as though she scarce had remarked that it was +water and not the land. It was not very deep, a few feet, lying in a +passage which seemed to run back into what perhaps was a dark cave here +in the rocks. + +Arturo waded in after her; and as she stood up, for the first time, +she touched him. Her fingers were warm and human. Her touch pushed him +away. She slid again into the water and with a silent swimming stroke, +was gone back into the darkness. + + * * * * * + +The sunrise came full. Arturo was very tired. He ate, and slept. He +went that midday, to the cave entrance. No sign of her. He wondered if +he should go in, and at last he started. But there was a place where +the passage ended. The water stood waist-deep and touched the lowering +ceiling. She had evidently gone under it. Or had she left the island? + +He returned outside. Down the slope he saw the rounded top of her +globe. The high tide had brought the ocean pounding over it; the sea +was rougher this day. But her globe was still there. She had not gone. + +She came out again when night had fully fallen. He found then that it +was the daylight which frightened her; blinded her. + +She let him follow her into the cave that second night. She swam so +humanly graceful and yet with a natural grace surpassing what we call +human. It was only a few feet underwater, where the passage roof +chanced to bend down. Arturo was by all our earthly standards, a good +swimmer. He followed her. + +She had in the small cave her own supply of food and fresh water, +brought from her globe. She seemed able to see, in that degree of +darkness. But Arturo had to go back to his plane and bring a small +vacuum bulb; he kept it shaded from her. They ate together--food +unknown to Arturo. They laughed together, tried to talk. He went out +and brought his own food from the plane, and let her taste it. + +They swam together in the deep little pool that covered half the +cave-floor. He sat and watched her, later, while she disported herself +alone, as a girl of our world might dance for her audience of one; a +slim, green-and-coral-tinted nymph at play. He saw that she swam under +the surface for several times the length he could manage; but she +always came up breathless and very human. He saw her limbs flashing +in the water with a silent, gliding grace; her tangled, tawny hair +floating like seaweed. Her eyes were often laughing; dancing like the +sea in the moonlight under a soft, fair night-breeze. + +She lay in the shallow water at its edge, her hair tumbling over her +back; her shoulders and head raised, elbows down with chin propped by +her hands. Her eyes dancing at him-- + +“Flinging back a million moonbeams, the tropic sea reminds me of thine +eyes.” He murmured it. “That’s the way you look, Nereid. Oh, if you +could only understand me.” + +She seemed to like it. “Say--that--” Her voice was soft, with liquid +tones. “Say--that--” She thought for a space. “Say that--one time +more--” + +He said it again. She came up from the water, and sat beside him, +abruptly serious. The water dripped from her green robe; her tawny hair +dripped with it. She was abruptly serious. She understood far more than +he realized; she could talk, with long spaces of thought between the +words. + +He stared into her eyes now when they were neither laughing, nor +timorous, and saw there an intelligence as great as his own. Different, +with all its knowledge different, and yet very much the same. He +caught through those sea-green windows, a glimpse of the girl herself. +Purposeful, anxious, apprehensive, not for herself, or himself, or +anything of their own concerns, but something greater. + +And that evening, or the next, or both, she began giving him fragments +of strange and startling things. + +He had been in his mind following the probable course of our Dolphin. +He knew our plans; he could estimate that at midnight of August 14, we +would very likely be at our closest point to him. And it was that night +that he got out his sending instrument. With Nereid sitting beside +him, he connected it. He saw anew, the real girl which was Nereid. +Her glance, quickly intelligent, following all his strange movements; +the solemn intentness with which she watched him carrying out their +agreed-upon plans. + +For there was between her and Arturo now a mutual, secret, absorbing +purpose. And for all their youth they executed it unswervingly. + +One picture more I can give. Polly had it from Arturo, when just for +one brief moment on the Dolphin she reached him with her sisterly +affection. There was a night, there on the island, when suddenly swept +by longing, he held out his arms to Nereid. She came quite close to +him, and gazed, with the tip of her hand holding him off. He saw, far +in the tender moonlit sea of her eyes, the answer he sought. But her +lips and her restraining hand denied him. He said, like a very manly, +human boy: + +“Why, yes--you’re right, Nereid.” + +And her tender eyes, dimmed suddenly by mist, were thanking him as he +turned away. + + + + + CHAPTER VII. + + THIS ENEMY INFERNAL! + + +In the pink and gold tropic dawn of the morning of August 15, we took +them aboard the Dolphin. Arturo did not mention, then, the globe of +metal lying there in the rocks at the ocean’s edge. We did not chance +to notice it. We left Arturo’s plane--he said, with a quiet force which +had come to him, that even if we could have taken it, we had no use for +it. + +They came out from the rocky slope, swimming to us as we lay near by. +I saw the girl, like a nymph, swimming. She was nearly always under +water. Each time as she came up, and waited for Arturo to overtake her, +he seemed directing her. + +We drew them aboard. I saw her then as a girl much smaller, more slim +of figure than Arturo, standing drooping, with her face hidden in the +tangle of her hair and her crooked arm. She was blinded by the light of +the dawn. Frightened, perhaps, by our voices, by our clutching hands as +we drew her up the Dolphin’s side. + +Arturo carried her to one of the Dolphin’s tiny rooms. There in the +dark, barring us, he left her. + +A quiet force had come to Arturo. He met his father’s questions and +turned them aside. It was this time not sullenness, not brooding, nor +anything neurotic. A quiet force, rather, a purpose. There were things +that he would tell us, and things that he would not. No fire from his +father could shake him. No irony touched him. No pleading from Polly +could soften him. Yet, with it all, he was tender, affectionate; and +underneath, I think, sometimes a little wistful. + +This was a new Arturo. It struck Dr. Plantet sharply. There was one +brief passage in which Dr. Plantet was so obviously the loser, for +he said much, and Arturo said almost nothing. And when it was ended, +Arturo kissed his father. + +“I want you to believe in me. You will have to trust me, father, there +isn’t any other way; you’ll have to go it blind. I’m sorry--and I love +you, all of you, very much--” + +It was in these latter words that I caught the wistful note, a gentle +sorrow, mingled with his purpose. + +It was Arturo now who gave us orders. That Dr. Plantet obeyed them, +with the knowledge that Arturo knew more than he, I think is a tribute +to the man’s inherent bigness. Nor, after those first hours, were there +any clashes or recriminations. We did what Arturo so gently but firmly +suggested we should do. But he would give us very little explanation. +Even without any compact he may have had with Nereid to enforce his +reticence, he was right; had he told us his full purpose, we would have +restrained him. + +We ran northeast, close under the surface. The course would take +us south and east of Wake Island, and then we were to head for the +northwestern end of the Hawaiian archipelago. Beyond that--the mere +laying down of our course and our depth--we knew very little. + +In thirty-six hours we were near Ocean and Midway Islands. It was late +afternoon of August 16. + +For myself that day and a half, I scarcely saw Nereid. But to the +picture of her through Arturo’s eyes which I have given, I can add the +woman-impressions as Polly saw her; and glimpse her with Dr. Plantet’s +prosaic, classifying viewpoint of the scientist. + +She would not talk to Polly. But she seemed to understand Polly’s words +quite well. A very gentle little girl, shy, but seeming readily to +respond to human affection. She evidently took a great liking to Polly, +and the feeling was mutual. + +They sat once, in the gloom of the tiny room with their arms around +each other; Nereid’s body was soft and warm and yielding; but there +was a firmness to it, and apparently a considerable strength for all +its frail aspect. Nereid seemed quickly affectionate toward this other +girl; but it was the mistrustful affection of a creature of the wilds. +She drew away sharply at one of Polly’s questions. + +She was a creature of swift-springing moods. Polly admits she tried to +win the girl, to gain her trust, to make her answer questions. Once, +in that dim light of the tiny cabin, Polly caught the expression on +Nereid’s face. A whimsical smile; an amusement that this girl of the +great, bright, atmospheric world should think her so simple. It struck +Polly with chagrin and humiliation. This Nereid was no fool. + + * * * * * + +Dr. Plantet, with Arturo standing watchfully in the doorway, had +several opportunities of studying Nereid. Oh, the passionate obsession +of science for classification! As though one could capture the moods of +the sea and set them down in logical, descriptive sequence! + +Dr. Plantet found that Nereid was really not her name. He made her say +her name, but he could think of no sounds in our earthly languages to +represent it fairly. He found her, in height four feet eleven inches. +In weight, ninety-one pounds. Coarse, thick, unruly hair, apparently of +human structure; in length nearly to her knees; in color, tawny. + +Her skin was soft, smooth, and white, with coral pink and red flush to +it. He found her eyes light green; but apparently changing in their +shade. A trifle tinted very pale green over the white eyeball. The tiny +capillaries on the eyeball were pale coral pink rather than red. The +pupils, with a deep green light in them, were overlarge, but shrank +suddenly at the slightest light, and suffused readily with moisture. +Her eyelids were thin as a delicate coral veil, with curving lashes, +long and thick and tawny. + +He found her apparently intelligent, shy and gentle. Of human stock; +but different from ourselves in a score of details which he set down. A +slightly rounder skull-shape; broader hips and higher breasts. Fingers +and toes slimmer and longer. The skin connecting the fingers and toes +crossed nearly at the middle joint, suggesting a closer heritage to a +time when a membrane might have been there, making the members webbed. + +He found her chest high and deep, with a proportionately greater +lung-capacity than ours. Her breath, he surmised, could without undue +discomfort, be held for at least five minutes while under water. + +A human specimen of wholly different stock from any of our known +earthly races. A civilization advanced as far perhaps, as our own; but +obviously in a different direction. It was, he wrote down, as though on +the great family tree of mankind, this were a blossom on a different +branch and a wholly different limb. + +He felt, when the case were closely studied, that evidence would be +found to show that this was the parent stock of earth-humanity. Itself +risen directly from the creatures of the sea. That from this stock, it +was we who branched off, to leave the depths, ascend to the air and the +land and sunlight and rise through the primates into what now we were +pleased to call Man. + +Dr. Plantet was very enthusiastic over Nereid. With scientific zeal he +looked eagerly forward to the moment when he would present her to the +study of our world-scientists. I remarked Arturo’s strange expression +as his father said that. + +On the late afternoon of August 16, we were just south of Ocean and +Midway Islands, those extreme northwestern outposts of the Hawaiians. +It was then Arturo told us what little we were to know of those things +he had learned from Nereid. + +We gathered in the stern chart-room; the Dolphin lay awash on the +surface of a placid sea. With sudden decision Arturo brought Nereid in +to join us. He shaded the light carefully for her and in the gloom of a +corner of the floor, she sat watching us. + +It was one of the few times I had seen her. I noticed with what a +quiet dignity she came in, following Arturo’s guiding hand; and with +what intent, alert intelligence she sat watching and listening. She +did not speak; but once or twice I saw her nod with confirmation of +Arturo’s words. + + * * * * * + +“There is not much I can tell you, father. But enough. Please do not +question me--for if you do, I will tell nothing.” He threatened it, +quietly, but with a very firm, very convincing finality. + +“Many of your theories, father, are correct. There is a race of people +under the ocean beds--I think largely here under the Pacific. Nereid, +as you see her here before you, is, I am sure, a representative +of the higher portion of this other civilization. It menaces +us--you were right about that, father! The conquest of our world is +contemplated--and has already begun. Soon I--we, Nereid and I, will +show you.” + +Dr. Plantet sat very still. I knew that a score of questions were +storming within him. He sat, regarding Arturo with keen, scientifically +appraising glance. He saw Arturo striving now to talk with a precise, +scientific exactness, but failing, for the lad was evidently laboring +under a tense excitement. Dr. Plantet was enough of the physician to +understand his son’s condition; he knew that very easily Arturo could +fall into a stubborn silence which nothing could break through. And Dr. +Plantet did not dare question. + +But I was not so self-controlled. I burst out, “Arturo, look here--the +water is leaving our oceans. Why? And why can’t you tell us everything +you know? Why pick and choose? With the fate of our world at stake--” + +He turned on me. “You’re childish, Jeff. I’m telling you as clearly as +I can. I don’t know very much myself--do you think that Nereid has been +able to give me a complete scientific report on all these questions +which you would like answered? Our world is doubtless at stake, as you +say. This enemy is ruthless--inhuman by all our standards of humanity. +Oh, do not judge the enemy you will have to confront by what you see +of gentle Nereid! Yes, the oceans will probably empty of water. The +‘Gians’ have contrived it. How long it will take, I do not know. Where +the main rift is--or how many rifts there are--I do not know. I think +there is one in sub-marine Micronesia--I don’t know just where--” + +Polly stammered, “The people--‘Gians’?” + +“Yes, Polly, you can call them that--this enemy. The word Nereid gives +me sounds about like that. I don’t know what weapons they have. Nereid +doesn’t know; she is neither a warrior nor a scientist--just a girl. +If I knew the weapons with which they will attack, I’d describe them +quickly enough!” + +He spoke with a rising vehemence. “Our world will have to defend +itself, father! You were right in your fears! The main attacks may +not come until after the ocean beds are dry. It will be a land-fight +then--in these new strange lands that we have never seen! Or there +may be an attack very shortly. The Gians, an army of them, are coming +up. Moving up an equipment of weapons. It may be merely an experiment +preparatory to the main warfare. Nereid has heard it may be; I +certainly hope so.” He paused, then suddenly added: “They are moving +upon the Hawaiian group, not far from here--down near Maui. We’re going +to show you!” + + * * * * * + +The Hawaiian group of mountain-tops were built long ages ago along a +crack on the ocean floor by a string of volcanos; some are peaks, seven +miles straight up from the surrounding depths. An island-bearing rise +some seventeen hundred miles long, quite narrow, extends from Hawaii in +the southeast, to Ocean Island at the northwest tip. + +We circled Ocean Island, and running a hundred miles from the crest, +near the bottom of the slope, we followed it southeast. Past the peak +of Midway; past Gambia Shoal; Pearl and Hermes Reef; Lisiansky; Brooks +and Bird; and came at last near Kauai. + +We ran often near the surface, but sometimes deep. Everywhere, we saw +the same sharp upward rise to this hog-back, razor ridge. A jagged, +tumbled sub-marine region. Here, in some remote geological era of the +past, nature had obviously been convulsed. Domes and peaks and crags; +steep, sharp ridges; caldrons like black pits; tumbled, broken land, +submerged now, but lying like some wild, naked mountain fastness. There +were slopes of truly precipitous character; cliffs, eroded with great +side holes; black ravines and gullies; bowlders of giant size, pitted +and scarred, strewn where some volcano had flung them. A wild, naked +region; rising in great serrated tiers from the ocean floor up this +hundred-mile slope to the island peaks at its summit. + +We came to the surface off the island of Kauai. More than a hundred +feet of naked slope, had been exposed by the fallen ocean. But the +green island stood serene up there on its peak. The comparatively +shallow two-thousand-fathom depth extended out here in a great circular +plateau to the north. Our charts showed it almost level for several +hundred miles. We dived and followed over its shoreward, necklike +width, and came again into deeper water. + +North of Maui, the tumbled rise went up a regular, ascending slope, +terminating at the peak which was the island. We lay, at twenty-one +degrees, thirty-three minutes, ten seconds N., one hundred and +fifty-six degrees, eight minutes W., in two thousand fathoms. The slope +was another thousand beneath us; but we could see its higher crags +down there, and as we moved slowly south, toward Maui, holding the +two thousand depth, the crags came up to meet us. We went cautiously, +with only one light preceding us. Winding now, down in the ravines and +furrows of the steady upward grade. + +Silent, mysterious passages! Sometimes they seemed about to close over +us; or opened into valleys, with cliff-walls and jagged rims. Darkly, +sinister depths! Our half-dimmed light showed us very little. Like +a silent, cautious monster, surprising this other marine life which +sometimes we saw fleeing before us, we slowly felt our way along. + +We came to a sharp, winding gully, barely a hundred feet wide, with +sides twice as high. Its jagged, uneven floor wound upward. Once, +perhaps, lava had come down here. But now its side-walls were eroded +with many cavelike openings larger than the Dolphin. Still more slowly, +with our little light struggling ahead of us, we followed the gully. + +We were all in the forward instrument room. I was at the controls, with +the others around me. Nereid and Arturo stood together at my elbow with +the port forward bull’s-eye before us. Occasionally he would whisper to +her. With the tenseness of it, we all spoke instinctively in undertones. + +We were in no more than three hundred and thirty fathoms now; the +Dolphin handled steadily. Some two thousand feet over us was the +surface of the sea. The gully was narrowing; rising steeply ahead to +what seemed a crest. + +Nereid whispered something. Arturo said suddenly: “Turn off the light, +Jeff.” + +I cut off the Franklin. Through the bull’s-eye a grim, sullen darkness +leaped to enfold us. But in a moment, what Nereid had seen, we began +to see. A dim, pale-green effulgence far ahead, a glow, a radiance. It +seemed very distant, as though the source of it might be down behind +this gully-crest--a radiance in the upper water which was our sky. + +I heard Dr. Plantet’s sharp intake of breath; and Arturo’s murmur: + +“Keep our light off, Jeff. Can you see to get us up there? Stop at the +crest.” + +We crept on up, holding close to the gully floor. The green radiance +faintly painted the gully walls. At the crest we paused. + + * * * * * + +There lay before us a sharp declivity--a drop of perhaps five hundred +feet to a broad oval caldron. It must have been ten miles or more in +width. Beyond it, in a great steep rise the main slope ascended toward +Maui. + +The whole scene was painted dimly green with a diffused effulgence +of light. We stared, all of us for a moment unbreathing. Mysterious, +awesome, uncanny! A crest to the left with a dangling forest of marine +vegetation, gently swaying. Occasional dark blobs of prowling marine +life. All dark and dimly turgid. A scene with a quality almost infernal. + +I could not grasp much of it at first. But it grew upon me--I think we +may have been there an hour, staring. It grew upon me, like formless +shadows slowly taking form in a pregnant darkness. + +The green light suffused everything. But down in the caldron it was +concentrated into many small points. Moving dots; blobs of light--and +near the center a large luminous area which presently seemed almost +bright. + +Moving dots of light. Things moving, carrying with them the lights. +Things that presently seemed cubes and oblongs of metal. I fancied they +may have been, some of them, a hundred or two hundred feet in length; +moving metal containers. With human occupants? My reason told me so. + +They showed no details, only as distant blobs. But my fancy supplied +details; I could imagine them being dragged very slowly up the +slope toward Maui with giant chains. Or perhaps they went as our +old-fashioned tractors used to move, with caterpillar tread. One moved, +and stopped; and I did not see it move again. Then another; another--a +little distance gained for each. + +And the movement was always upward, toward Maui’s green +mountaintop--toward that bright ethereal other world of land and sky! + +It grew upon me, this scene so darkly, silently infernal. The slow +patience of it! + +But there was other, swifter movement. Smaller, individual, metallic +vehicles moved more swiftly about as though commanding. Some darted +like tiny sub-sea vessels, carrying lights. Others moved on the bottom. +There were unlighted shapes that seemed not much larger than a human +figure, moving among the rocks on the caldron floor. + +The broad, circular, nearly-bright area seemed to have a great +transparent dome over it, like an amphitheater suffused with +illumination. I think the water was excluded from under it. + +The encampment of this attacking army! It was distant from us, with +image tiny to our sight. Human figures in there, moving about. Tiny +dots of green light strung above them. Shapes of things that might have +been houses; tiers of them, terraced like sections of a pyramid. An +encampment, crowded with apparatus perhaps. I even fancied I could see +some of it, which the figures were assembling. + +Dr. Plantet was fumbling with our telescope. He turned on its tiny +penetrating ray of light, but Arturo leaped at him. “Don’t, father!” + +I reached and snapped off the light. But it had betrayed us. We did not +know it then; for another interval we gazed down from this height where +it seemed that in darkness the Dolphin lay secure on the crest of the +gully-mouth. + +But our light had betrayed us. I was first aware that though, with the +Parodyne cut off, we had been poised motionless, we were _not_ +motionless! The gully had passed behind us! Slowly, silently, as though +drifting, we were moving out over the caldron! The declivity with its +sudden drop was now behind us; we were in open water, five hundred feet +above the caldron floor. + + * * * * * + +I clutched at the Parodyne control, to start it. I think I must have +stammered some startled, horrified words. There was no time to say or +do anything. A light--it may have been a form of light, or something +more tangible perhaps--shot suddenly upward at us. A narrow green beam +with red fire woven through it, a darting thing like a dim narrow beam +of light. It caught us. More tangible than light, for I could feel it +strike us, grip us! As though caught in the magnetic grapples of a +crane, I could feel the solid grip of it; holding the Dolphin, partly +turning us over. And drawing us, sucking us--there are no words to +describe it--pulling us downward! + +There was an instant of horrified confusion. The shock had thrown all +of us against the instrument room wall. I heard Dr. Plantet shout +something. I must have been able to start the Parodyne; it was burring; +the pressure pumps fortunately continued to work; I could hear their +whine. The Dolphin was shuddering; shaken; stricken. And being pulled +down--a great fish held struggling but helpless in the luminous +tentacle of a monster. + +Polly was clutching me. I caught a vision of Arturo, holding Nereid, +his encircling arms trying to protect her. I did not see Dr. Plantet. + +I flung the Parodyne to all its power. I could feel it futilely surge +against this thing holding us. + +I was thrown again. Through the bull’s-eye a slanted scene of movement +was coming up at us as we went down. + +And then there was a flash down there--a flash of blinding white, +brief and silent. I know now that Dr. Plantet had been able to get +to the torpedo tube--had taken swiftly what came to hand and launched +it. A mere light-bomb, of the sort recently developed for sub-sea +photography. + +It may have been harmless or not, to this strange enemy. Perhaps it +blinded whatever eyes were guiding this grappling thing. And for an +instant, the clutching hold upon us loosened. The Dolphin righted, and +as I turned on the ejecting pumps, we started upward, gathering speed. +The Parodyne took hold and added its power. I turned our bow straight +up. + +The grappling light sprang upward, past us. It missed us, came back and +missed again. Its source was very mobile--it seemed rising after us; +it swept off to one side and the beam leaped again, and again did not +strike. + +We shot up the two thousand feet to the surface with the speed almost +of a diving plane. I leveled us off and we raced at a fathom’s depth. +The attacking light had vanished. The depths beneath us were dark. We +sped away, shoreward. Presently we lay awash on a starlit glassy sea, +with Maui’s green-brown heights staring down at us. And the blessed +stars in a canopy above. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII. + + MYSTERY OF THE SEA. + + +Dr. Plantet would have landed at once upon Maui, and warned them, but +Arturo dissuaded him. + +“It is not necessary, father. That has been going on down there for +weeks. There is no hurry that way. Besides--” He checked himself +suddenly. + +“What?” his father demanded. “Arturo, if there is anything more--” + +But Arturo remained silent. He had conveyed the impression of having +other vital knowledge; I think now, looking back upon it, that he did +it knowingly, cleverly bending his father to his further purpose. + +“What?” demanded Dr. Plantet again. + +“Father, won’t you trust me? I brought you here and showed you what I +could--” + +I said: “Arturo, look here, you’re not telling us that you want us to +keep this thing secret? That would be dastardly!” + +He turned those solemn dark eyes upon me. He was only eighteen, this +lad; but at that moment he seemed older than I. + +“No, Jeff, of course not. When you--when we get back, father can +discuss it fully with the authorities. If you like, father, you might +try now to call Washington. Tell them, briefly, that with your own +eyes you have confirmed your theories--your worst fears. Tell them +that there may be warfare such as this world has never imagined. But +I hardly think I would specifically name this threat against Maui. It +might cause--if news of it leaked out--a panic in the Hawaiians. And +from its remoteness to Europe it might make those people over there +less earnest in preparing. No good in that, and besides--” + +He paused, and then as though having decided to finish, he added: + +“Besides, I am not--we are not, Nereid and I--altogether sure that the +main threat is against Maui. There may be other localities.” + +“Well, what do you want us to do?” asked Dr. Plantet. + +He told us then, with a simple directness. Run the Dolphin to ten +degrees one minute five seconds N., one hundred and fifty-eight degrees +four minutes eighteen seconds E. I looked it up on the chart. Open sea. +A point in Micronesia, not far from the island where Arturo had found +Nereid--some fifty miles to the northeast of it. We had to go there, +lie on the surface for a night, and wait. + +Arturo, for all his quiet force, turned to sudden pleading. “Oh, +father dear, won’t you trust me? Please believe Nereid and I are +thinking only to do what is best!” + +I am very glad--since fate seemed determined to give Arturo his +way--that Dr. Plantet yielded in the fashion he did. He put his hands +on Arturo’s slim shoulders; he gazed into the lad’s earnest, flushed +face. There was a somber wistfulness there. I think Dr. Plantet must +have seen it. He suddenly enfolded his son in his strong arms. + +“Your world already owes you a great deal for what you have done, +Arturo. I do believe in you.” + +We ran the Dolphin to the position Arturo gave us. A depth was here +evidently far beyond our reaching. But we did not try to investigate +it. We lay awash, at sundown, idly waiting as Arturo directed. + +A tenseness had fallen over all of us on the Dolphin. It showed clearly +stamped on Arturo and Nereid. It communicated to us. Polly and Arturo +were much together. Polly says that never had she felt him so gentle, +so affectionate. Or so quietly obdurate in his secretiveness. + +Dr. Plantet and I discussed the situation. There would be much to do +when we got ashore. + +But we both realized that our discussion was premature. Arturo still +had something to show us. It might change everything--add new factors +to make all our present plans useless. + + * * * * * + +We lay awash that night on the surface of the empty sea. There was a +brilliant moon coming up near midnight in the east. It painted the sea +with a running stream of silver. + +Toward midnight it clouded over with a leaden sky, and the wind fell. A +hush was on everything; an oppressive, ominous hush. The surface turned +glassy, grimly brooding. + +Arturo gave his orders. This was a rendezvous--something he said, some +vague suggestion he dropped, made us realize it was that. He had for +a day been puttering with something in his cabin. He brought it up +at midnight--a small but brilliant hand-light which was part of the +Dolphin’s equipment. He showed it to me. + +“Look, Jeff--what I did!” He had pasted a yellow strip of mica with +a queer design on it, across the flash light face. He smiled like a +boy triumphant over a great boy-secret. “Don’t ask me, Jeff--you’ll +see presently. To-night--or it may be we’ll have to wait, so don’t be +disappointed.” + +He sent us below, and sat on the dark deck alone with Nereid. Waiting. +He said he would like to let us stay up there with him--but our +presence there would interfere. There could be two on the deck, no more. + +We three were in the instrument room. Dr. Plantet, unknown to Arturo, +had the under-sea telescope ready; if anything appeared, he would +snap it on. We had loaded the torpedo tube also. It was possible that +Arturo might be tricked. This might be some enemy for whom we were thus +trustfully waiting. + +We were tense, ready as we could be, for what might come. Occasionally +Dr. Plantet would send me on tiptoe in the darkness to the turret-top +to observe in secret Arturo and Nereid upon the deck. + + * * * * * + +It was dark out there on the deck. The two figures sat some distance +from me as I crouched in the turret doorway. But I could see their +outlines fairly clearly--Arturo sitting close to her, sometimes +whispering. + +She stood up. She evidently saw something. My heart began pounding. +Whatever it was, it was hidden from my position. Arturo was on his feet +beside her. She gestured--I could see her slim white arm gesturing. I +saw him raise the flash light, and send its narrow, penetrating yellow +beam steadily out over the water. That device he had cut in the yellow +face of it--something, some one out there must be seeing that--and +recognizing it, as Nereid? I thought so. + +There was a space, while Arturo held the light steadily level. Then +Nereid said something to him. He snapped off the light. They stood +waiting. A minute? Ten minutes? I do not know. I heard nothing; saw +nothing save those two motionless, tense figures standing there by +the Dolphin’s low rail. Boy and girl, so slim, so frail, so youthful, +both of them. They stood, so close together that her long wild tresses +seemed almost enfolding him. + +I recall that I was about to go below and tell Dr. Plantet and Polly +of this signal I had seen. A movement of Nereid stiffened me. She drew +apart from Arturo. The Dolphin’s rail was lower than her waist. She +seemed poised; her arms went up; she went in a graceful arc, over and +head downward into the sea. + +[Illustration: _Nereid went in a graceful arc into the sea._] + +I was stiffened for just an instant. Why, what was this? Arturo moved. +He put his foot upon the rail. For a breath, he seemed to hesitate. Was +he executing his compact with Nereid? I think so. But perhaps, there +at the last as he hesitated, he was fighting with the lure. His foot +was on the rail. He plunged. There was a little splash as he struck the +water! + +I waited. One has not long to wait for a swimmer to come up. I called: +“Arturo! Arturo!” I crossed the narrow deck, rushed to the bow--to the +stern. I called frantically: “Arturo!” + +My running footsteps, my frantic voice brought Dr. Plantet and Polly. +She called wildly: “Arturo! Arturo dear--” + +We hurried below, and too late now, we plunged the Dolphin. + +But there was nothing. Down to our limit of two thousand fathoms there +was nothing but the dark, turgid mystery of the sea. + + * * * * * + +I come now to that curiously inactive year during which, had we not +seen what with our own eyes we saw, all the strange events I have so +far described might have been the figment of our imagination. The +public knew nothing of the details, of course. And even the governments +and scientists before whom we laid our report were dubious of our +veracity. + +But there were solid facts. Ships had been lost. The oceans did recede +some twenty fathoms. Solid facts, not to be denied. And a mermaid had +been seen. But that, as a matter of science, was a jest; and there was +almost nothing left save what we said we saw. And with the going of +Arturo, the solid facts seemed to come to an end. + +The year passed, and the winter and spring of 1991 slid by. The oceans +were down twenty fathoms, but no more. The disturbance of nature seemed +at an end. There was earthquake and volcanic activity, but nothing +unduly severe--nothing more than many other years of the past had shown. + +Twenty fathoms of water were gone, it seemed permanently, from the +oceans. The confusion in the world’s affairs which it created was +quickly clearing; we humans adjust ourselves so readily to new +conditions! Ships soon were again sailing the surface, and none were +attacked. + +There was no attack upon Maui, or elsewhere. In November, 1990, we took +the Dolphin back to Maui. The delay was because Dr. Plantet had been +stricken ill. I would not have thought that an emotion, even for a son, +could have stricken him. But it did. He denied it was that; but it was. + +They had sent armed surface vessels to the Maui area, while Dr. Plantet +lay ill. They bombed the depths; they searched with lights; they bombed +with hovering planes. There was no response from below. + +Then at last, with other scientists, we took the Dolphin cautiously +down there. We were a long time finding that exact caldron depression +to which Arturo and Nereid had led us. But we found it--and as though +to deny us all credibility, nothing was there. This enemy had +withdrawn. I recalled that Arturo had said several things which hinted +something of the kind. + +We fruitlessly searched with a long, deep voyage of the Dolphin. And we +thought of Nereid’s island--Arturo’s plane, and Nereid’s globe which +had been left there. We found the plane untouched, lying there, mute, +pathetic witness to the fact that there ever had been an Arturo. But +Nereid’s globe was gone. + +We found the little cave with its pool where they swam together, and +laughed together, and planned this thing which had taken him from us. A +few little trinkets of his were lying there; his violin was there--and +a strangely fashioned shell comb which undoubtedly was hers. That was +all. + +Dr. Plantet seldom mentioned Arturo. But often, with Polly, I pondered +the past; and there was much that my idle fancy could conjure. I saw +Arturo as a gentle hero, sacrificing himself for his world. I read into +the memories of those days the idea that Arturo went away with Nereid +because he knew he might be able to check these dire, threatening +things. Often I would say to Polly, “It’s a fact that the oceans have +stopped falling--and the menace has withdrawn--” + +The public so quickly forgets! No one seemed greatly worried now over +the mysterious things that had occurred in 1990. No one ever seemed to +think that they might occur again. Yet to me, the menace always hung +over us. + +Arturo had said, “This may only be an experimental attack--the main +warfare may be fought on land.” Those wild desert lands which now we +were calling the sea. They were so soon to be added to our habitable +world, with our enemy infernal lurking in them! + + * * * * * + +My ship was put back on its regular run in January, 1991. It was, to +me, an eerie thing to be traversing again these waters of the Pacific, +flowing through them on our prosaic commercial rounds as if nothing +strange had ever happened down here. For the first few voyages my +nerves were taut; I found myself with sharpened fancy and straining +vision watching the passing green depths, as though every moment I +might see a globe with Nereid’s face. Or Arturo, in some strange guise, +waiting somewhere down here to meet our passing. I sometimes feared +that a beam of light which was not light, but something else might leap +up from beneath and seize us, as the Dolphin that time had been seized. + +The feeling after a few voyages wore off. Nothing happened; I began to +tell myself that nothing ever would happen. + +I was doing well financially. Our line was prospering. In March, 1991, +the directors voluntarily raised my pay. I began to think then of Polly +as my wife. I had never spoke definitely of love to her, yet there was +between us an understanding--unvoiced, but I am sure that she felt as I +did. + +Much of my shore leave was spent with Polly and her father. He was +planning a long voyage of the Dolphin, to chart the ocean deeps in the +interest of science. I wondered if it could be that there was still in +his mind some thought of finding a trace of Arturo. I think so; but he +disguised it. + +He planned to have me navigate the Dolphin. It necessitated my giving +up my post; and I hesitated. I wanted to marry Polly; and to be working +for her father, dependent upon him for my income, was not wholly to my +liking. + +The dreams and nightmares which were to have so strange an influence +upon my future, began about this time and for five months they troubled +me. I had always been, or at least I thought so, a person above the +influence of idle dreams. There was nothing morbid about me. Dreams +might sway a fanciful lad like Arturo, but not me. + +But I was mistaken. These dreams--I had them, fragments of them nearly +every time I slept--gradually laid their mark upon me. I did not speak +of love to Polly; I avoided decision with Dr. Plantet over the voyage +of the Dolphin. I was scarcely aware of it at first, but I became +moody, silent, almost morose. + +Polly noticed it. Once, with a very gentle tenderness which I was in no +mood to appreciate, she tried to question me. I recall that I checked +her sharply. + +The dreams began unobtrusively. I remember the first one: I awoke with +the feeling that I had been somewhere beneath the sea. The memory of a +turgid vision of a watery waste, with things floating. The feeling of +it oppressed me all day. + +There was another. Young Tad Megan, a friend of Arturo’s and mine who +had been lost on a surface freighter in one of the disasters of April, +1990, stood in the dream before me. His face was very white; his slowly +waving arms seemed floating in water; there was green-black water all +around him. + +Fragments like these. Recurring dreams, always of water--until, as my +morbidness grew, I began to hate my calling that took me under the +sea--almost grew to fear it. + +There were dreams of music. Sometimes I thought that I had heard Arturo +playing. Often, as I awoke, I fancied I had seen his face, smiling at +me with a gentle wistfulness. Again, I saw myself, bloated, drifting in +a turgid liquid darkness. + +It is fearful to be obsessed throughout all one’s waking hours, with +the lingering memory of nightmares. I began to fear them--fearing the +time when I would have to go to sleep and dream them again. I became +nervous; my digestion suffered. + +In June, when a grave blunder of mine nearly brought disaster upon us, +my superior told me bluntly that my work was unsatisfactory, getting +more so all the time. He did not know why, and I did not tell him. But +I fought with the dreams--fought to thrust them as nonsense out of my +waking thoughts. + +I could not--did not dare--propose marriage to Polly. A sense of +personal disaster was upon me. I mistrusted everything. My health--I +feared I would lose it, and lose my post. And there was another reason +why now I began to avoid Polly. A recurring fragment of dream: A dim +cathedral vault of green water with chimes ringing through it. A girl, +like Nereid, with tawny floating hair and eyes with the sea in them, +calling me, luring me--and always I would try to answer, and would wake +up, calling my answer to her. + +An obsession. I began to feel, even when awake and about my daily +duties, the presence of the girl--her eyes upon me, her white arm and +hand, flushed with the tint of coral, reaching out to touch me. And +against all the reason of my sober waking senses, I knew that in my +heart I longed for her. A disloyalty to Polly? I felt it so, and it +made me increasingly morbid. + + * * * * * + +Of such threads was woven the fabric of those last days of Arturo. I +know it now. The lure was on me then, as it had been then upon him. But +though I did not realize it, there was a strange but solid basis of +science to all this. More than mere dreams; more than mere disturbed +fancy. + +I said nothing to Polly, or to Dr. Plantet, or any one. Like Arturo, I +carried it alone. Tad Megan, drowned over a year now, was more and more +in my thoughts--as though something were forcing him there. Even more +than the alluring girl, the vision of him often came to me as I slept. + +I had liked him tremendously. A short stocky fellow with a shock of +upstanding red hair. A laughing freckled face usually red with sunburn. +A jolly companion, who saw a joke in everything--all of life with its +grim struggle to be taken as a joke. And now he was dead, lost in +one of those disasters last year which it seemed now would never be +explained. + +There was a dream in which I saw Tad very clearly. He was laughing; he +seemed alive and healthy and laughing, and beckoning me to come and +join him. Then water came rushing at us; his face went solemn; it went +white and solemn and faded away as I struggled to get to him. + +Thus I was, in August ’91, nothing of the Jeff Grant I had been the +year before. A moody fellow now, churlish and sullen, almost estranged +from Polly and her father. I liked best to be alone. And so the +momentous night of August 15 found me, with my shore leave beginning, +seeking solitary diversion in New York City. I had been to a theater. I +was returning to my hotel along one of the upper pedestrian levels. + +Broadway was thronged. It was just about midnight. Down on the +street level the vehicles went by in a stream; above them, to the +sides, the moving sidewalks swung past with all their seats packed. +The green-white trellised vacuums cast their glare upon the busy +scene--half a million people hurrying off to their homes, or to eating +and dancing places for further midnight diversion. + +Gay scenes of shifting, scurrying movement and tumultuous sound. At the +crossings the directors roared their orders with electrical voices; +loud speakers shouted their advertisements from every point of vantage; +huge news-mirrors showed images of the current world-happenings, +flashing on and off with advertisements interspersed. + +A gay scene; but I was in no mood to join with it. That sense of inward +depression, chronic with me now, sat heavily upon my spirit. I walked +the crowded upper level alone, following its outer balcony rail. It +was a rainy, blustery night. The street-roof overhead was wet with the +falling sheets of rain; I could see the water through the glassite, +running off in rivulets. At a crossing, where in the side streets there +was no roof, the rain beat down in a torrent upon glistening pavements. + +The valley of the Hudson was off there, only a few blocks +away--frowning Palisades; an empty cañon where last year the stately +river had been. The muddy slope down to its center was caking solid now +under the sun of these hot summer days. With the tide-water gone, there +was only a narrow, swift-flowing fresh-water stream down there at the +bottom. The side-slopes were already being built upon. + +I stood there for a moment gazing moodily. And suddenly it seemed that +Tad Megan was there with me; something of him--standing at my elbow. +Plucking at me? I turned swiftly. A man and woman had brushed against +me as they passed. + +It was eerie, nerve-racking. I tried to shake it off--this something, +following me always. Ahead, another half block up Broadway, there was +a sudden, tumultuous movement in the crowd. Something unusual. I could +see the people rushing along one of the middle levels; voices rose in +shouts. The excitement communicated everywhere. + +In one of the moving pavement halts a thousand people suddenly leaped +off to join the running throng. The stream of vehicles down at the +bottom of the street was disorganized; the director down there was +frantically roaring, but his orders were lost--the vehicles, fully half +of them, were turning into the inclines to come up. + +I gripped a hurrying man. “What is it?” + +“Announcement. Government--official. To the public, at twelve ten.” + +“It’s twelve five now. Where is it to be?” + +“Park Circle 80. Government mirror there. Let go of me, you grounder! +What’s the matter with you?” + +I had been clinging to him; unreasoningly trembling. What, indeed, was +the matter with me? I did not know. I tried to steady myself. I smiled. +“I’ll go with--” + +But the man jerked from me and hurried away. Park Circle 80 was only +a few blocks north. The crowd was all converging there. I followed, +mingling with it. There must have been ten thousand people thronging +that upper circle. They jammed all its tiers; around its outer diameter +the vehicles stood parked in rows. I was a few minutes late. The +overhead lights had dimmed. A silence had fallen. + +The fifty-foot pyramid mirror, with its hexagon sides to face every +portion of the circle, was luminous. Moving black letters were on it, +for all to read. + + Government official, midnight, August 15. Atlantic Coast, average + tide at low, off five-sixths fathom-- + +I stood gaping, reading. Tide bulletins! A series of statements of the +low tides of the day at different points along the North American sea +coasts. + +The crowd grew restless; a director’s broadcasted voice roared: +“Silence! It means that the oceans are going down--faster than last +year.” + +The crowd swayed, shouted, and then grew still; awed, frightened into +silence. All over the city, at all the circles, I knew that scenes like +this were transpiring. + + The menace has come again! Stand by for government orders to the + public-- + +The menace had come again! + + + + + CHAPTER IX. + + OUT OF THE SEA. + + +There must have been a dozen near panics in New York that night, and +in all the other great cities. Throughout all the rural districts, on +every distant farm, the agriculturists were being aroused from sleep +by the call of the official newscasters. It may have been a rational +policy--I am not one to judge. + +I stood there in the throng at Park Circle 80, watching, listening, +with pounding heart. It had, this news, so much greater meaning to me! +I knew what the menace could be; of all these people, I had actually +seen the enemy. + +Diagonally across from me, a hundred feet over the circle, close under +the roof, was a strip of the huge luminous call board. I chanced to be +gazing at the G segment--a column of the Gr names. They flashed past in +moving letters: Gran, George; Grad, Francis M.; Grammer, Ruth--people, +who might be in the crowd, for whom there was a message. And then, +Grant, Geoffry. My name! Some one calling me. + +I went to the nearest box. “Geoffry Grant--am I called?” + +The girl clicked me into a distant connection; on the tiny mirror I saw +the image of Dr. Plantet’s solemn face, with Polly behind him. + +“Jeff?” + +“Yes.” + +“I’ve tried everywhere for you, for an hour. They said at your office +you might have gone to New York.” + +“Yes.” + +“Where are you?” + +“New York. Park Circle 80.” + +“It’s come again, Jeff. Tide-water fell to-day--they figure now it’s +falling more than twice as fast as it ever did before. Good luck, +Jeff--” + +“Yes, I know, I’ve just been hearing the official report.” + +“I’ve been swamped with calls, but I wanted to get hold of you. Oh, +they’re not so incredulous of us now! I’ve had twenty of them calling +me, to see what I thought ought to be done.” + +“Yes.” An inexplicable constraint was on me. I knew I should join with +vigor whatever Dr. Plantet might plan. But I felt an outcast; something +was pulling at me, away from him; making me silent, cautious of +committing myself to anything. + +His tense voice went on; his keen eyes showed in the mirror; I knew he +was searching my face; behind him I could see Polly, reaching over his +shoulder to catch sight of me. + +“Jeff, they want me to-morrow or the next day in Washington. Great +London will want us also. I suppose the Dolphin will be used. I don’t +know why they are convinced just by to-day’s reports, but they are. +This is the real menace, Jeff. They all say so, and I feel it myself.” + +“Yes,” I repeated lamely. + +“The oceans are falling--this time they will keep on, faster; it has +come, at last. Jeff, I want you up here--” + +“Yes.” It sounded so horribly stupid, my dumb repetition. + +“--want you to catch the 2 A.M. mail. Polly and I will meet +you at Portland--” + +“Yes--no! No, Dr. Plantet!” I felt as though I had suddenly found my +wits. I could not go to Maine--I was wanted, needed, elsewhere. + +“No--I cannot.” + +“Why not? Why, Jeff--” His voice was hurt, puzzled. + +How could I explain to him? There seemed nothing to explain. I swept my +hand over my cold, wet forehead. I felt like a traitor. + +“No, I--I can’t come.” + +It seemed as though, pressing around me in the breathless little +cubby, were something of Arturo, and Nereid, and the face of young Tad +Megan--here--like pressing ghosts, importuning me. + +“No, Dr. Plantet--” + +“Jeff, see here!” His voice was sharp. “What is this nonsense? What’s +the matter with you? Speak out, lad.” + + * * * * * + +I clicked off the mirror connection so he could not see me. And then, +with a sudden impulse that I could not check, I hung up the instrument +and staggered out of the cubby. The crowd thronging the circle was in +tumultuous movement now, every one struggling to get away. A surge of +people and vehicles. I shoved into them, aimless, trembling. I had been +a cad with Dr. Plantet. What was the matter with me? I did not know. + +I stood for a moment against a direction post, trying to collect my +wits. The crowd surged around me. The platforms for the near-by Yonkers +District were loading up; the Jersey local flyer lay on its stage off +on a side street, where the roof ended; I could see the lights through +the rain, people crowding onto it. + +Thoughts pressed at my aching head. Thoughts that I could not +interpret. Soundless words thumping at my brain--I could almost hear +them, but not quite. + +Then a realization steadied me. I was not going mad. These pressing +ghosts of thoughts--why, I had once heard a lecturer on telepathy +describe the thing in some such fashion as this. It steadied me. Was +this telepathy? Was something, some one’s thoughts trying to get +through to me? I clung to the direction post, trying to fathom my +feelings. Arturo? Nereid? Or was it a ghost of Tad Megan, here with me? +What was he saying-- + +A pedestrian director came up to me. + +“You all right?” + +“Yes, yes, of course.” + +He regarded me sharply; his hand drew me from the post. “Alcoholic?” + +“No. Of course not!” I laughed. + +“What’s your name?” + +“Geoffry Grant.” I showed him my signature, pricked officially in the +flesh of my arm. + +He glanced up at the call board. “There you are--guess they want you at +home. Get along now.” + +I hurried away, glad to escape him. My name was again on the call +board; Dr. Plantet, trying to get me to come back and talk. + +I found myself in the rain, on a lower street with only one level. The +rain seemed to clear my confusion. And suddenly I heard, soundlessly +in my head, the thought: + +“_Arturo and Tad Megan need you. Come._” + +I stood against a dark shop window, with the rain drenching me. I +thought intensely: “_Where? Come where?_” I murmured it, half +aloud. “_Come where?_” + +“_Arturo needs you. Nereid’s island--you remember? Come +alone--come--come--_” + +I think, in that instant, all my morbidity dropped away. The need for +action spurred me. This at least seemed something tangible. Something +to do. Normality came to me, I was the old Jeff Grant, not a sniveling, +trembling coward, afraid of his own thoughts. And I believe I +understood, in part, what had been the matter with me all these months. + +I turned back to the glare of Broadway, and called Dr. Plantet. + +“I’m sorry I shut off on you, Dr. Plantet. Don’t ask me--I cannot come.” + +“But why?” + +“I can’t tell you now, I’ll try to let you know soon.” + +“But--” + +Something said to me: “Keep your own counsel,” but I added: “I’ll trust +you, Dr. Plantet. It’s about Arturo.” + +I told him briefly I might be able to communicate with Arturo. Oh, I +could not blame him for his prompt, vigorous questions! And his command: + +“Jeff, you come up here to me, at once--I want to know what you mean by +that!” + +I could see Polly restraining him. + +“No,” I said. “I cannot.” + +I shut him off finally. Then I called my office; told them brusquely +that if I did not report within a week they could consider my post +vacant; to fill it as they wished, and to notify Dr. Plantet what they +had done. + +And then I boarded a vacuum cylinder in the tube for mid-Long Island, +to the field where aëros could be engaged. + + * * * * * + +“I want a single-seater Wasp.” + +The checker looked me over. “For how long?” + +I had not thought of that. “Why--for about a week, I guess.” + +“Guess? Don’t you know? Where’s your license?” + +“You think I’m a grounder? Here you are.” + +I showed him my flying license; and my name on my arm, and I wrote my +signature to verify it. + +“Wait,” he said. “I’ll confirm that.” + +He put my signature into the telautograph on his desk; it clicked off +into the air. My heart leaped. Had Dr. Plantet sent out a call to +apprehend me? Would he dare? + +“What’s that for?” I demanded. + +“General orders. We’re taking no chances to-night. You may be who you +say you are--I’m no expert at signatures.” + +The Washington Archives verified me, and the release came back in a +moment. I breathed easier. + +“Right,” said the checker. “They passed you. Where are you going?” + +“None of your business,” I retorted. “Is it?” + +He grinned. “Well, I guess it isn’t. Not if you deposit the total +value.” + +I gave him my draft to cover the cost of the plane. He sent it off to +be certified and in a moment had it back. Within half an hour I was in +the air, flying west by south. I could do a fair three hundred in this +machine. + +Noon of the next day found me over the Pacific. I stopped at Guadalupe +Island off the coast of Lower California, to refuel and take on my +final provisions. And upon sudden impulse I called Polly. The mirror +presently showed me her intent little face. I was relieved to see that +the room behind her was empty. + +“This is Jeff.” + +Her face brightened. Dear little Polly! I felt like my old self now--no +longer estranged. + +“Yes, Jeff.” She did not question; she sat there, regarding me gravely, +waiting. + +“Where is your father?” + +“Gone to Washington, Jeff. Early this morning.” + +I had had no news, save the fragments the mechanics were gossiping +over, here at the Guadalupe station. + +“The tides are lower, Polly?” + +“Yes. Two fathoms more--just over-night. It’s come, Jeff.” + +I swore her then to secrecy. “I’m at Guadalupe Island, Polly. I’m going +well, you can guess where. I can’t talk plainly--too easy for any +eavesdropper. Polly, listen, it’s about Arturo, I’ve had--I think I’ve +had a message from him--” + +“Oh!” Her face went very grave; but her eyes were shining, “Father said +last night--” + +“Yes, I hinted at it to him. Polly, I’m going--I may not come back.” + +“Oh--” + +“I mean--not for awhile. This isn’t the sort of thing you can let +the government meddle in--they’d send an expedition after me to +investigate, you know they would.” I added suddenly: “Polly, I’m sorry +about the last few months--I’ve acted badly--I’ve been--it’s hard to +explain.” + +But she understood. “Like Arturo, Jeff? I knew it.” + +“Yes, I imagine like that. Only, it’s Arturo calling me, Polly. +Not--not any one like Nereid. Oh, Polly dear, you understand, don’t +you? It was--or I thought it was--something like that, but I’m all +right now. Polly, see here--I called you for this. Later, some time +I may, if I can, send you a message from--from down there. You see? +If I do--don’t be frightened. If you get to dreaming--nightmares, +anything like that, don’t be frightened. Whatever you think the message +says--don’t you attempt to come alone!” + +She was very intent. “No, Jeff. What should I do?” + +“Tell your father. If you are sure we are calling you--come with him, +you see? We may be able to reach you, and not him. Oh, I may be talking +nonsense! I don’t know. But if you do get a call from me, or any one, +don’t come alone--don’t try it, Polly.” + +“No. And you know we’ll be waiting, Jeff.” + +“Yes. Do the best you can. There may be bad times ahead of us all. Good +luck.” + +I was reluctant to cut off. But the operator checked at me for +overtime. To be conspicuous was the last thing I wanted. + +“Good-by, Polly.” + +“Good-by, Jeff. The best of luck--and love to Arturo. Oh, if he is only +safe! I’ll be praying for you.” Her fingers touched her lips for the +gesture of a kiss. Dear little Polly! + +I cut off. In ten minutes more I was away, with six thousand miles of +ocean ahead of me to Nereid’s island. + + * * * * * + +It was mid-morning when I raised the tiny island. It seemed deserted, +upstanding with its naked spreading base in the fallen ocean. I landed +in the empty bowl which once was the lagoon. All through the hot +glaring day I waited. Night came, and the half moon was high overhead. +I left my Wasp and sat on a little promontory under the palms, above +the naked beach. + +The low ocean was rippled with moonlight. A breeze stirred the palms. +Upon such a night as this, just about a year before, Arturo had sat +here, waiting. I found my heart beating fast. Who would come? Some +girl, like Nereid? + +And doubts assailed me. Was this all, this message I thought I had +received, a trick of my fancy? Why should I think it a rational +telepathy? Was I a fool, to be sitting here waiting? For what? + +Yet there was upon me a strong feeling which seemed growing into a +definite knowledge: Arturo was nearing me. As though physically he were +here, standing out of sight behind me--the accents of his familiar +voice ringing in my head as though he had just spoken. + +My watch showed 1 A.M. I had slept a good part of the previous +night, and dozed all day. I was keenly alert, sitting tense, searching +the moonlit ocean. I saw at last, a mile or so away, something black +bobbing at the surface. And then a tiny beam of light, waving like +a signal. I got to my feet. I had pasted a device across my flash, +crudely cut from memory of the one Arturo had used. I stood and held it +level, shining it out over the water. + +The light out there presently was gone; the bobbing thing vanished. But +after a time it showed again. Close inshore. A shadow of the rocks was +there; I could not see it plainly. It landed. And then I saw figures +clambering up the rocks in the moonlight. Three of them--and another +stayed back by the round thing from which they had come. Three figures, +coming up toward me. Two men, and a girl, white-limbed, with tossing +hair. + +I stood in a patch of moonlight. There was just an instant when the +thought swept me that I was a fool--this was an enemy come to trap me. +But I called, quaveringly, “Arturo! Arturo, is that you?” + +There was a brief silence. The climbing figures stopped, gazed up and +saw me. And a voice called up--a familiar voice. It was Tad Megan--not +dead, nothing weird or eerie. A great relief swept me. + +Tad’s voice: “There he is--I see him!” + +Tad Megan, and Arturo and Nereid. I could recognize them now. The +relief of it! If I had not realized what a strain I had been under. But +there was nothing uncanny about this. I shouted: + +“Here I am!” + +They came running up. Nereid, familiar as I remembered her; Arturo, +strangely garbed, grown strangely older. Tad wrung my hand. + +“No--of course I’m not dead! You, Jeff--by the little gods of the +airways, it’s good to see you again.” + + + + + CHAPTER X. + + INTO THE ABYSS. + + +It was a round, gleaming metallic globe some thirty feet in diameter. +We entered its tiny doorway; a thick, complicated affair, it reminded +me of the door to some great round safe in a bank vault. Tad swung +it closed. The click and queer whir of it, in spite of these friends +around me, struck at me with awe. We were going down into the unknown. + +They were very businesslike, Arturo and Tad. And Nereid, with her +timorous, flashing smile at me, stood aside and watched them. Ah, never +before had I so fully realized Nereid’s beauty! It so queerly stirred +me; against all reason of friendship I could not treat her casually. +Tad noticed it. He grinned at me, and whispered: + +“You get used to it. She’s human--she’s not a ghost, you know.” + +They had had little to say to me; the business of getting us embarked +and started occupied them. + +“We thought you’d never come, Jeff. Nereid has been calling you for +months. We need you. You, of every one, we’ve wanted. We only got your +answer a short time ago. Nereid had almost given up trying to reach +you.” + +“So it was Nereid--” I told them of the dreams. Nereid said shyly, “I +would not care--I mean, it was not what I desired, to frighten you.” + +She spoke slowly, carefully as one who deals with an unfamiliar +language. And very softly, with an accent, not to be described and a +tone curiously limpid. + +Arturo smiled. “We could not help that; we had to get the call through. +You’re not very receptive, Jeff.” + +“But Arturo was,” said Tad. + +They told me then that it was Tad, down there with Nereid, who had made +her call to Arturo. There was so much that I would ask, but Arturo cut +us short. + +“Not now. Later, when we arrive. We’ve been gone too long now, Tad--you +know it.” + +A different Arturo. He was dressed in short black trunks and a black +sleeveless jacket that clung to him like a swimming suit. It shone, +with light on it, like a thin woven metal. His black hair was closely +clipped. His face was paler now than ever, but it seemed only the +pallor of darkness. A leaner, rather longer face than I remembered. +And stranger, and older. His jaw was more firmly set; his lips thinner +and firmer. And his eyes were different. A flashing, dominant glance. +More than that, they seemed larger, as though from living in the dark. +And I noticed that here within the globe, the light was very dim, and +carefully shaded. + +There were similar changes in Tad. His short, stocky figure showed +muscular in the brief black suit. His red hair was close-clipped; his +freckles gone, with pallor supplanting them. He, too, seemed older; +his face in repose, very solemn. But his manner showed he was the same +old Tad--irrepressible; like Mercutio, he would make a joke of his own +death, I am sure. + +We sat on a horizontal platform which hung midway of the globe, +spanning its diameter. A similar disk, of necessity smaller, was ten +feet over our head like a ceiling. It made a sort of room, with a small +metallic post upright in its center--a vertical axis to the globe. A +queer, circular room. Seats stood about it; there seemed a buffet, +wherein food was stored. And to one side, a table and shelves of +instruments. A metal ladder led upward, through the ceiling, to the +globe’s upper segment; and a trap door in the floor gave access to a +ladder downward. + +The whole metallic interior was dim with its shaded lights. I saw +that the room was hung upon this central axis. There were windows at +intervals in the curving wall of the globe. Through them, with lights +whose source I could not determine, a vista of the sea showed plainly. +We were pivoted, as though sitting upon the plane of a huge top. But it +was not our disk that began spinning. The globe’s mechanisms went into +operation with a slow throbbing; the disks of the room held steady, +and apparently almost level. But already the central axis was turning; +the globe was turning; the windows began passing in steady procession +around us. + +I asked no questions. Tad and Arturo were busy. I sat, with pounding +heart, watching, listening, wondering. Nereid sat near me; I could feel +the gaze of her solemn eyes. We had slid from the rocks; we were under +the water. Sinking--rolling forward, or downward, I could not tell +which. + + * * * * * + +Arturo stood for a moment before me. “We’ll be throwing on the pressure +presently. Hold steady, Jeff; it will be strange at first.” + +“Arturo, see here--” + +He smiled. “It’s difficult, making sure of our direction. Nereid, you +know the way--will you watch with us?” + +She nodded, rose, and stood across the disk by the instrument table. +Tad was there, and the figure of another man. I had not yet seen him +closely. A slim fellow dressed in the brief black suit. His arms and +legs gleamed pink-white; he sat now by the instruments, his hands +roving them, his gaze intent on a bank of dials illumined with a vague +purple sheen. + +Arturo called, “Entt! Oh, Entt, can you come here a moment?” + +He rose and Tad quickly took his place. He stood before me a +delicate-looking, almost girlish fellow. He might have weighed a +hundred pounds. A trifle taller than Nereid, slim and straight and +smooth pink-white of skin. He stood smiling--a hand shading his wide +blue eyes from the light. A handsome fellow; twenty years old perhaps. + +“Entt, this is Jeff, our friend.” + +He held out his hand. “I am glad.” He spoke like Nereid; he had indeed +her strange look. + +I shook his hand, and said impulsively, “Are you Nereid’s brother?” + +“No--just--her friend.” + +His face was smooth as though no razor had ever touched it. His brown +hair was clipped close. I liked him at once, this Entt. Gentle, +deprecating, but there was a strength to him. The muscles of his arms +and shoulders rippled under the satin of his skin. + +He turned away. “I must go back, Arturo.” + +Arturo said, “He’s been a real friend--there is so much we have to tell +you, Jeff. But not now. When we get there.” + +Tad was calling, “Arturo, come here!” + +“When this pressure comes on, Jeff, hold firm. Just sit tight.” + +Arturo left me. + +Into the abyss. Strange, fearsome descent! A confusion of impressions. +We had left the island. How far we went I could not say. An hour +perhaps. The globe turned slowly; the illumined circles of windows with +the green water outside them, rotated slowly around me. + +And then the descent began. The globe had been throbbing, not only with +vibration; with sound. The sound intensified. The globe gradually began +whirling faster. I heard Tad say: + +“We’re located right, aren’t we, Entt? By the little auk at the pole, I +don’t want to go down at the wrong place!” + +“There’s the marker we flung out,” said Arturo, and Entt nodded. “See +it--off there?” + +I could see very little through the whirling windows. They flashed +faster. Presently they were all merged in a band of light--a +horizontal, circular band like a slot of continuous window. The light +had intensified; it showed the water, rushing upward now. + +And then the pressure went on. I saw Entt swing the lever; I heard the +beat of some new mechanism. It was presently as though within the globe +this air I was breathing went under increasing pressure. Yet I knew now +it was not exactly that. A changing of the air. A mechanism taking out, +absorbing the air of my world, and substituting something else, a new, +a different air. The atmosphere of this other realm to which we were +going. A greater pressure, undoubtedly, but the change was far more +than that. I cannot describe it scientifically. There was no one ever +to tell me the technical difference. But I recall now how I felt, there +in that globe as we descended. + +An oppression. It seemed as though a band were compressing my chest. I +could not breathe properly; I began panting. My head soon was roaring, +my forehead cold with dank moisture. + +There was a queer odor--the odor of wet, clammy earth, a smell like a +wet cave far underground. I struggled for breath; a nausea was upon me. +Once I thought my senses were fading and called, “Arturo!” + +He came running. I was gripping the latticed metal seat. He touched me; +appraised me with his gaze. “You’re all right, Jeff. Fearful at first, +isn’t it? You’ll be all right after awhile.” + +I smiled weakly. “Yes, I--hope so.” + +Above the roaring in my ears it seemed that my voice, and Arturo’s, had +a different sound. A heavy, muffled sound. + +“You’re all right, Jeff, we’ve got it on full now. You’ll feel better +presently.” + + * * * * * + +He left me. I sat gasping, but after a time the nausea passed; my head +cleared a trifle; the roaring in my ears began to abate. I found I +could still breathe, but it was an effort. The muscles of my diaphragm +were tired now with the strain of it. There was a fluid quality to this +air, I took it into my lungs and flung it out with a panting, gasping +exhalation. It burned me inside, and my skin was burning; tingling, +prickling, as though with a thousand tiny needles. + +But I grew used to it--or perhaps all the sensations were passing. +Another long interval. I got to my feet, with a strange sense of +lightness. I moved my arm with a gesture; I could feel the air pressing +it. Upon sudden impulse I swung my arm with a swimming stroke; it +slewed me around and I nearly fell. + +“Jeff! Sit down!” Arturo was regarding me. “Sit down!” + +I sat staring at the slot which was the whirling windows. I saw +presently a slanting vista of the dim turgid floor of the sea come up, +swing over and go level as we settled upon it. I noticed then that the +sense of lightness of my body was gone. I felt, on my feet, almost a +normal weight; and I knew that most of the lightness was caused by our +rapid descent--one feels it, descending in a swiftly-dropping elevator +car. + +Arturo, Tad and Entt, over at the instrument table, were actively +busy. Their low voices reached me, but the interior of the globe was +buzzing with sound; and from outside our walls there came the noise of +a violent swishing. Here on the dark, soundless floor of the sea, was +the sound of tumbling, thrashing water! + +I stood swaying, straining to see through the blurred slot of the +revolving globe-windows. The dark ocean floor; then I caught a glimpse +of what seemed an abyss; a tumbling white area of swirling water; a +pit, near at hand where the water was lashed white with a huge circular +swirl like a giant whirlpool. We were sucked into it. + +Arturo’s voice: “Sit down, Jeff. Hang tight. You fool, don’t stand up +like that!” + +The globe, took a violent plunge. There was a brief, dizzying interval +of chaos. We seemed almost falling free, turning end over end. I clung +to my seat. I could see the others clinging, too. A few moments, then +we steadied. + +We were, as far as I could determine, in the center of a circular +whirlpool. The water held level; but now we were descending--our rapid +turning motion screwing us downward. Another mile down. Or five miles. +I thought it that; and Arturo believed it that far. + +He came over, after another interval, and sat beside me. “Strange, +Jeff? We’re almost at the bottom. How do you feel?” + +“Horrible.” + +He laughed briefly. “It will pass. We’ll be at the first of the locks +shortly.” + +He sat, seeming not anxious to talk. Nor was I, for every breath I +drew was still an effort. We were dropping down like an elevator car, +the walls of the globe whirling on the upright axis. Tad and Entt were +scanning the dials. Entt spoke; Tad reached for a lever. + +Our descent seemed slackening. The whirlpool of water was stilled; +through the window slot I could see the water, black, with a turgid, +inky blackness. There was a perceptible jarring vibration; we settled +upon some bottom surface and stood like a top, spinning. + +“There,” said Arturo; his voice held relief. “Thank Heavens!” + +The light in the water outside abruptly vanished, as Entt switched it +off. A blank blackness out there. And then I saw a radiance; far away, +it seemed, along a vaulted tunnel in which we lay. A radiance that +congealed into a beam of light. It darted at us; gripped us. The globe +shivered. My memory leaped back to the Dolphin, caught in the clutch of +a similar beam. This one held us; drew us forward into the tunnel. The +black tunnel walls went flashing past. + +Arturo said: “They’ve got us safely. It’s all right now--” + +Oh, I was not the only one who had been perturbed at this descent into +the abyss! Arturo was utterly relieved. + + * * * * * + +“We’ll be in the first lock very soon, Jeff,” he panted. + +“How far?” With my labored breathing I was sparing of words. + +He said: “Ten miles or so. I don’t know. They’ve got us safely.” He +called: “Tad, they waited. Suppose--they had deserted us--” + +“Arturo, this rotation--this spinning--” + +“Don’t talk yet, Jeff.” + +I labored. “I mean the rotation screwed us downward--” + +“Yes.” + +“Then why doesn’t it--stop now?” + +“The exterior pressure. Our rotation absorbs it--like the Dolphin’s +water-jacket--give father credit, he struck the principle--it’s well +known down here.” + +“Arturo--you talk--tell me--I can’t talk to question you--” + +He laughed at that. “Do you think--I don’t feel the pressure change? I +do. Take it easy, Jeff--you’ll understand in good time. Ah, there’s the +lock.” + +Our globe stopped. In a dull glow outside I could see us wait an +instant, then drift downward through a huge metallic door. It yawned +open to receive us; it closed above us as we floated down through it. + +We were in a square, cavelike room. Water filled it. + +“The first lock,” said Arturo. “They’ll change the water pressure; +then we’ll go down into the next one. Ten altogether. We’ll be ten or +fifteen minutes in each.” + +A new realm beneath us. My thoughts struggled to encompass it all. A +mile, ten miles over my head, the ocean floor. Already it seemed so +remote. The abyss of our Pacific Ocean. Above its depths, our great +atmospheric realm. + +Down here a new world, unknown; throughout all the uncounted centuries +of the past, unknown save where our legends had glimpsed it. Another +realm. A civilization, a science here; things mechanical; the rational +thought of rational humans. These locks, gateways, changing pressures +were all planned and built by skillful human effort. + +So strange a thing! + +The lock was dimly lighted. In the silence I could hear the throb of +outside pumps, the gurgle of air bubbles, and the hiss of air and +water. Against the side wall of the lock room, there was a small, +transparent dome. A dull light was in it. The water was excluded. The +figure of a man showed in there, bent over a table of instruments, it +was the lockkeeper, attending the pumps for our downward passage. + +Tad came over. “I say, Arturo, no twenty-hour watchman ever got as +hungry as I am. How you feeling, Jeff?” + +“Better,” I said, “but terrible.” + +“You’ll ease up. We’re rotating slower now. In the fifth lock, we stop.” + +I noticed that the globe seemed spinning not quite so fast. Tad +insisted: “Can’t we eat, Arturo? Let’s have Nereid fix it up.” + +We passed down into the second lock. The spinning of the globe slowed +another notch. The second lock was a room like the first. The overhead +door swung closed. The pumps outside throbbed. I could see the water +changing; a thinner quality, its turgidness leaving it, a limpid aspect +coming to it. + +Nereid opened a table and set food before us. They all ate save myself; +I could no more than taste it--queer looking food which all of them +appeared to relish. + +We passed down into the third lock; and the fourth and fifth. In each, +Entt slowed our rotation. The slot separated into the spinning windows; +in the fifth lock they halted. Our globe lay inert, vibrationless +at least, I felt immediately less oppressed, but it was largely +psychological, for the air we were breathing was unchanged. + +“Is this the normal air where we are going?” I demanded. + +“Yes,” said Arturo, “it will be always like that. But you’ll get used +to it. They’re thinning the water outside--presently we’ll be out into +air just like this.” He added, abruptly: “Jeff, it’s a relief to have +you here. We are engaged in a desperate thing, Jeff. The welfare of our +world up there depends on it--and more than that, Nereid’s people--” + + * * * * * + +I interrupted: “Day before yesterday, when the public was given the +news--” I said it casually, then stopped. Day before yesterday! Was it +only that? It seemed so long ago--so far away, so like a vague dream, +that bright other world up there which was mine. “When the public was +given the news, there was almost a panic--” + +“News? What news?” They stared at me. + +“Why,” I said, “the news that the oceans are receding again. A real +drop this time. We couldn’t mistake it, because--” + +My voice trailed away. I gazed in surprise. My words seemed a +bombshell. Arturo went visibly whiter; Tad’s jaw dropped. Nereid +exchanged a glance of sudden fear with Entt. They all sat confounded. + +“Oceans--dropping?” + +“Why yes. Off nearly three fathoms. We realized then--” + +They sat confounded. They did not know that the menace had come to our +world! I had assumed, of course, that they did, that they had sent for +me, in some crisis now that the danger had come again. + +Arturo gasped. “It has come! Tad, my God, after all we’ve planned! Done +it now--why, what she has dared to do--why, it’s irrevocable! We can’t +stop it now, Tad!” + +A fear, a horror lay upon them all, and I saw that this was something +more than the menace of the draining of our oceans, and a war with +these people of the abyss. Something, to Nereid and Entt, more +personal--more horrifying. And to Tad and Arturo, the defeat of all +their plans. + +Arturo leaped to his feet. “We’ve got to hasten--where are we?” + +“Seventh lock,” said Tad. He had recovered his poise; he gestured +vehemently. “Sit down, Arturo--can’t do anything yet.” + +Arturo stood at a window. I joined him. “You didn’t know?” + +“No! Of course not! We’ve been fighting it! She dared--” + +“She?” I gripped him, “Who, Arturo?” + +He shook me off, turned on me sharply. “Let me alone! We’ve got to +get down to the City of the Mound, I tell you! To Nereid’s father. He +probably knows about it now.” + +The water in the seventh lock was thin and limpid clear. I could see +the attendant in the dome-shaped cubby. He met Arturo’s gaze; he smiled +and gestured a greeting. Arturo tried to call him. + +“Don’t be a loon!” said Tad sharply. “He can’t hear you. If he did, he +couldn’t understand your language. You know that. Wait till we get to +the tenth. Then we can get the car and hurry.” + +I put my hand on Arturo’s arm. “This is something more than we thought +it was before? Our oceans draining. A war--” + +He swung on me. “It’s all that, yes. And more--Nereid’s world is to be +annihilated, Jeff! A million people, her people, drowned like rats in +a trap unless they can escape upward in time! That’s what we’ve been +fearing--and it’s come!” + + + + + CHAPTER XI. + + WHAT THE WHITE GLARE SHOWED. + + +The ninth lock was filled with a white, swirling mist, air now; water +no longer, yet I had not remarked when the change came. I stood with +Arturo at the window; the room outside was gray with dank, wet fog. As +we rested in the lock, the pumps outside were hissing with the changing +air. The fog dissolved; the air seemed clear, with only a dim haze. +The door to the lock under us swung slowly open. We were lowered, our +weight handled now by mechanical device. We came to rest in the tenth +lock. The air became wholly clear, the moisture gone from it. + +“Very good,” said Tad. They were preparing to leave. “Shall I open the +door, Entt?” + +“When we get, what you say--the signal.” + +The tenth lock was a room like the others, a square, solid, metallic +room, with girders of metal reënforcing its rock walls. It was dully +illumined by an indirect light, whose source I could not see. The +keeper sat with his instruments in a cubby; there was no dome over him. +Figures moved on the lock floor about our globe--figures of men, down +under the bulge of our walls; I could not see them clearly. They were +clamping some mechanism upon us; the globe was swung aside, into an +alcove evidently to store it. + +A metallic, railed balcony ran midway of the room. Arturo gestured. +I saw standing up there the figure of a woman. A brawny, powerful +figure, gray-white of limb, with hair dead black. She stood on the +balcony, gesturing down at the workmen, evidently commanding. A tall, +gray figure, five feet ten, at the least. I could see her only dimly; a +white shield like thin, flexible metal bound her torso; black coils of +her long hair crossed her breast. + +Our globe was drawn aside; the woman gestured vehemently at us. Entt +called. “She said, ready now.” + +Tad was moving about the globe. “Come on. We want a fast car, Entt.” + +We swung open the globe’s heavy door. There was a gentle inrush of +air; it seemed purer, fresher; but it brought an intensified smell of +earthly dankness. Our voices in it were heavy, muffled. + +I gathered up my few possessions, and we were ready. Entt extinguished +the soft lights of the globe. Our round doorway showed with the dull +radiance outside; voices in a strange tongue floated in to us; the +clanking sounds of mechanisms; the last hiss of rushing air. The +woman’s voice sounded sharp, vehemently commanding. With pounding heart +I went down the swaying incline which they had put up. I stood on the +damp metallic floor. + +The realm of the abyss! + + * * * * * + +Black-garbed figures crowded around us. Entt scattered them. The gray +woman on the balcony stood gazing down at us. + +Entt led us away. + +“See here,” said Arturo, “Entt, you tell her we must have the fastest +car. Tell her we’re in a hurry.” + +Entt called up. His words echoed dully through the heavy air. The woman +answered--a brief, sharp, rasping retort. Her gray-white arm waved us +away. + +Arturo spurred us with fevered haste. We went through a small, heavy +door. Down a ladder, out into an open space. + +A sense of great open distance lay around me. It was wholly dark; a +pregnant darkness wherein I felt that many strange things might be +seen. A heavy, slow-moving breeze, coming from far off, stirred against +my hot, tingling cheeks. + +I gazed into what seemed an ocean of black space. I tried to focus my +straining eyes upon something. Ah, there were stars! But I knew it +was incredible. Not stars; points of twinkling light. They gleamed +overhead, straight before me, to the sides, and even below--far ahead, +but on a lower level than we were walking, so that I stopped suddenly, +clutching at Arturo with the feeling that an abyss must yawn at my feet. + +“This way, Jeff. Can you see?” + +“No.” + +“Hold to me. The car is right here.” + +Tiny, distant points of light, like stars. I gazed at them across what +was immeasurable blank distance. + +But near at hand there were things vaguely to be seen. The dull blob of +a passing man’s figure. A hundred feet away, perhaps, the vaguest of +yellow radiance. Figures there; and a long, gleaming white thing lying +in an upraised framework. + +Entt headed us toward it. I walked, swaying as though alcoholite had +befuddled me. A different gravity here. I felt lighter; yet it was +not so much that. A difference. There have since been many learned +discussions on this subject; I am not one to attempt it in technical +detail. I felt as though all my weight were not pressing upon my feet +with a downward pull in normal fashion. There was a side thrust--first +one side and then the other as I chanced to be moving. + +As though by inertia, my movement tended abnormally to persist. A +different application of the gravitational force. And I believe, too, +that the quality of this air had its effect. It seemed an atmosphere +almost ponderable as I plowed through it. There was a sensible pressing +of it upon me; the weight of the breeze was tangibly heavy. + +“Here!” cried Arturo. “Get away, you!” He moved with irritable +aggression at a man who crowded us, gaping curiously. + +A flight into the void, by air! This was an aërocar, waiting here for +us. A white structure of thin, flexible metal, some twenty feet long by +four feet wide--open and flat like a long toboggan. There were seats +on it, two abreast. A low railing, with bulging pontoons glowing dimly +yellow. A streamlike thing; its forward end held a V-shaped windshield +six feet high. Behind it a group of controls. Like a bowsprit of some +ancient sailing vessel, a metallic tube projected out front. It glowed +with a greenish phosphorescence. + +We climbed on board. None of the attendants came with us; a group of +them stood staring, whispering among themselves. Entt spoke to them +briefly. The car trembled. The bowsprit tube in advance of us grew more +intensely luminous, like a wire electrically heated in the darkness. +The air around the tube snapped with a myriad tiny sparks. + +Arturo said: “That air out front is dissolving--we’ll move forward into +the vacuum.” + +The glowing pontoons along our sides hissed with a downward thrust of +gas. We lifted. The metallic stage with its staring group of figures +dropped away. Entt tilted the luminous tube a trifle upward. We slid +forward into the vacuum. + +Faster. The wind went rushing past us. We slid out and upward into the +blackness of the void, with its tiny points of light twinkling like +stars in the distance. + + * * * * * + +I have flown, off and on, all my life. But this flight in the void of +the abyss had an eerie unreality. Unreal, like the magic fancy of a +child. Witches on a broomstick, with the rushing night around them, +slanting up into the stars. Or a magic strip of carpet, this white +thing upon which we crouched. Rushing through the wind; flexible, +bending, undulating throughout its length beneath us. + +We spoke very little; the noise of the wind tore at our words. I pulled +at Arturo’s arm. + +“How long--this flight?” + +“An hour and a half, perhaps.” + +My eyes seemed growing accustomed to the darkness; I strained them +into the black space dotted with stars. Not many; occasional groups of +them, above us, and as I gazed down over the low rail, I could see them +twinkling underneath. The immensity of celestial space, as though we +were rushing through it, out among the stars. + +The sensation was suddenly dispelled. These were not stars, gigantic, +infinitely far away, but points of man-made light, comparatively close. +Gazing down, with vision expanding now in the darkness, I made out +a vague black surface sliding under us. It lay, not horizontal, but +sloping at a sharp angle, and I knew then that we were flying tilted +partly sidewise. And while I stared, it swung level as we righted. + +A dark surface of land; and the stars were lights down there. I saw +them now as different colors, and in groups which might serve as +landmarks. + +The thin white shape of another aërocar rushed past us overhead. + +We were descending now. I had guessed the surface to be some ten +thousand feet beneath us. We dropped lower. I could make out a rocky, +undulating landscape. Occasional patches of what might have been soil. +Shining, narrow ribbons of roads. Areas of vegetation. + +We passed over a village. Dull spots of light, merged into a glow. I +saw the dark shapes of houses; on a hillside, tiers of them. There +was movement down there, in city streets. Off to one side, beyond the +settlement, a great flat structure was bathed in a red blast of light. +It seemed a factory. A pit in the rocks beside it glowed red. + +We swept on. The settlement vanished behind us. I saw a point of light, +like a beacon, set on the summit of a rocky cliff. It changed color +at intervals. Entt remarked it, with a gesture to Tad. He swung the +controls; we went into a sharp, upward climb. + +There were points of light always showing in the black void over our +heads. As we had descended toward the rocky landscape, the lights +overhead had grown very dim. I gazed up at them. They twinkled up +there, very faint and dim now. I wondered what they could be. Not +aërial beacons, poised over us? As we climbed, they began to brighten. + +My imagination struggled to cope with this I was seeing. This silent +realm down here--I had the sense of a great celestial spaciousness, but +I knew that it was not so. This was within our earth, underground; a +great, black void here, like a titanic cave. Yet it must be of finite +area; comparatively small. Over my head now--up there where the points +of light blazed like stars--must be some great rocky ceiling. And above +that, miles above it, no doubt, my imagination saw the floor of our +Pacific Ocean! + +We ascended in a steep slant. The upper stars brightened. The lights +beneath dimmed with distance. Then I saw overhead the outlines of what +indeed was a rocky ceiling. It spread horizontally over us; eight or +ten thousand feet still up there, at the least. I saw the lights set in +this rocky ceiling. + + * * * * * + +And then I gasped. With sudden, changing viewpoint, I saw what was the +truth. There were ribbons of roads on the rocky ceiling. Patches of +open space that might have been soil. An open area glowing with light; +houses in it--a settlement! It hung up there, the distant, small image +of it--a settlement of houses and streets, upside down, perilously +clinging to our ceiling! + +It was then that my viewpoint changed. I envisaged, very suddenly, that +our aëro was flying overturned. This land was beneath us, not above! +Hanging head downward, as I have often done in a Wasp, I was staring +down at this dark surface over which we were speeding. And as though to +verify the fancy, I heard Entt speak, and saw him swing us. The void +began slowly turning over. The dim stars came slowly swinging overhead; +the rocky ceiling went down and steadied horizontally beneath us. +Normality came again. + +I grasped it now. This void, this titanic cave, was peopled on all +its inner surface. Floor and ceiling, no difference. So strange! And +yet was it? My fancy held that just a moment ago, this void had swung +completely over. Our whole great earth lying outside it, had turned. +This ceiling, which now was beneath us, was not a ceiling, but a floor. +But in reality it was only our aëro which had turned. + +So strange a thing, this inner surface peopled both top and bottom; up +and down. But was it so strange? On the surface of our earth, we in the +Americas visualize ourselves always as upright. Our heads are to the +stars; our feet to the great earth which always lies bulging under us. +And we can fancy China, down there with all its people hanging head +downward. Yet we know that in twelve hours, they must be on top, and +ourselves hanging down. + +Up and down! Meaningless terms when used to try and denote anything of +the Absolute! There is, indeed, in all our universe, no term of time or +space, or motion that means anything, when taken by itself alone. + +The gravity here in this void? The new textbooks explain it in most +learned fashion. They talk of different air quality, different pressure +down here. The great bulk of our earth, encompassing this inner void +to give rise to whole new sets of mathematical formulæ. They say that +our scientists had never before encountered an underground area which +had its own atmosphere, subject to its own pressures and laws. Let them +have their say; I tell only what I saw and felt. + +We were dropping suddenly downward in a swift spiral. Arturo touched +me. “The City of the Mound. See it there?” + +A low, rocky mound-shaped hill lay beneath us, a mile or so off to one +side. It was dotted with lights, covered with houses--low, circular +houses, seemingly of a gray-black stone. We dropped lower. The mound +was perhaps three hundred feet high. The houses were set on its slopes, +in tiers. Streets were between them, in orderly array--horizontal +streets, like circular bands around the hill; and there were other +streets running down the slope. One side was a gentle declivity; the +other, a steep, almost precipitous descent. The street there went down +a broad, metallic ladder. + +Arturo gestured. “Her house is there--the Great Woman. At the top of +the mound.” + +The wind was lessening as our flight slowed and we settled. I demanded: + +“What woman? That one we saw in the tenth lock?” + +“Nonsense. She was a subordinate. The Empress--I call her that. Ruler +of this realm, I mean; you’ll see her. We had intended to have you--” + +He broke off. He was highly nervous--high-pitched, overwrought, I could +not mistake it; abstracted, deep in his own thoughts, with little time +yet for me. And he was never one to brook questions. + +I turned away from him, absorbing myself in the scene of our landing. +At the very peak of the mound was the house Arturo had indicated. A +squat spreading building of dark frowning ramparts like some ancient +moldy fortress. It stood there with a faint sheen of light upon it, +grim and forbidding. Around it was an open space--a garden, with paths +and low shrubs; beyond that, encircling it, a low palisade like a +fence, with the city houses crowding it. + + * * * * * + +We were still at a high enough altitude for me to get a distant view. +The houses covered the mound, and at its foot, thinner down on the +level, they spread out into suburbs over the near-by rocky landscape. +At the outer city fringes I saw a distant field with things growing. + +It was everywhere a squat, solid landscape. The houses, all of one low +story, sat squat upon the ground. There were trees, a dark forest over +which we passed. The trees spread thick and wide, but low to the ground +like shrubs. There was little height to anything. + +I had seen no water. But now, on the edge of the city, I made out a +dull-white, winding ribbon that I thought might be a river. + +We swung down to within a thousand feet of the frowning palace +fortress. On its flat roof in a sheen of light I could make out the +tiny dark blobs of figures standing in a group by a parapet-wall. +From the roof a point of fire suddenly mounted. It came up toward us, +mounting slowly. My heart leaped; for an instant I thought it was a +missile, sent up to strike and destroy us. But it rose no more than +a hundred feet; then it opened into a great ball of white light. For +perhaps a minute it hung poised, burning. + +Entt gave a cry of fear. He and Nereid sat with hands to their eyes, +blinded by the white glare. I felt our aëro wavering; Arturo leaped +from my side; he and Tad, themselves shading their eyes, clung to the +controls. We wavered, but they held us steady after a moment, circling +over the fortress-roof, spiraling slowly down. + +On the roof-top, the figures stood with what seemed dark glasses over +their eyes. We had dropped still lower; I made them out plainly. Twenty +of them at least; most of them tall, gray-limbed women. They stood +gazing, not at us, but down at the city, regarding with shaded eyes the +scene revealed by the white glare of light they had sent up. + +[Illustration: _A minute of blinding glare showed a strange +scene._] + +A crowd of people pressed against the garden palisade. Some of them had +evidently climbed it and were in the fortress garden. Men, and women +with flowing tawny hair. All of them like Nereid and Entt. A different +race from these gray giantess Amazons on the roof-top. They thronged +against the garden palisade. Crowds of them surged in all the upper +city streets. Crude weapons were in their hands--implements, perhaps, +of agriculture. + +An attack upon the fortress. It seemed so. It had evidently been done +quietly--now which was doubtless the quiet time of sleep. But it had +been discovered. In the white revealing glare the mob was stricken. +The blinded figures in the garden were trying to run back--in a panic +trying to escape. They stumbled, fell. Rose and blindly staggered away. +I saw one run headlong against a tree trunk. + +The quiet of the scene--it had been wholly quiet in the darkness a +moment before--was broken by their cries of panic. At the palisade the +milling throng was struggling to force its way backward against the +press of those behind. The city was in a turmoil. + +A minute of that white glare; then the flare burned out and blank +darkness came again. For a time I could see nothing. I heard Arturo’s +and Tad’s voices: + +“Tad, my God--did you see that?” + +“Yes.” + +“It’s come--the revolt! But, Tad, we’re not ready. Nothing is ready--” + +From beneath us, on the dark fortress-roof we were nearing, a cry +floated up. A strident, woman’s voice, laughing ironically. + + + + + CHAPTER XII. + + THE SATANIC EMPRESS. + + +“Tad! Raise us up! Are you going to land on the fortress? Get us away +from here!” + +We skimmed over the fortress. The gray figures gazed up at us. We swung +down the slope of the mound, close over the city streets and roofs. +The houses seemed, most of them, from six to ten feet high. I saw, on +the level area just beyond the foot of the mound slope, the house upon +which Arturo and Tad intended to land--a broad, flat roof. There was +a dim light on it; in the glow, a figure of a man stood waiting to +receive us. + +We settled down and came to rest. The roof was oval, fully fifty feet +across. It had small flowering shrubs, paths, and a sort of lawn on +which we landed--a moldy brown turf. Off at one end, bathed in the dim +light, was a pergola with seats and banks of blossoms. The man stood +off there. He came hastening forward as we settled. + +“Fen!” Arturo called to him. “Here we are, Fen! We got him. Did you +know they tried to attack the Castle? It was discovered. She saw +them--in the white glare.” + +It was Nereid’s father. He came and held Nereid in a close embrace, +then shook hands with the rest of us. He was an old man, sixty, or +eighty, I could not have said which. White of skin, with tawny hair +long to his shoulders--a wavy mass of hair, grown dull and dead looking +with his age. But he was a sturdy vigorous old fellow, no taller than +Entt, slight of build, erect and straight for all his years. And +dignified; his loose, dark robe fell to his knees; a girdle bound his +slim waist; on his chest was an ornament in beaten white metal of +strange device. I recognized it--the device Arturo, and later myself, +had used on our flash lights as a signal. + +He stood me off and regarded me. “So this--you call ‘Jeff’?” He +gestured to me apologetically. “I cannot talk the language of +yours--the young learn--I am old.” His gaze swept me from head to foot. +“Strange dress--he is so big, Arturo, as you said it.” + +“But it’s too late for that,” Arturo rejoined swiftly. He added to me: +“They worship size, these Gian women. I had planned, Jeff, to send you +to the Empress Rhana--you are so tall and strong--taller than any man +here. She would have liked you.” + +So that was it. I began vaguely to understand. But only vaguely; it was +still all so strange. + +They were all talking at once. Partly in my own language; partly in +this other, which was wholly unintelligible. Fen, like them all, was +plainly agitated. I grasped a few details, mostly from Tad’s swift +explanations. There were two races--one small, white-skinned; the +other larger--the gray women and their men, who were the ruling +class. They were called the Gians. Tad explained: “They have a word +_dgie_--it means large. Nereid’s people are the _Mdj_. You +can’t pronounce it, but it suggests Middge--we call them that.” + +The Middge were the workers--oppressed, downtrodden. They had been +for months upon the verge of a revolt. Fen was helping its secret +organization; weapons secretly were being manufactured in the +underground fire caverns where the Middge worked. But the news of the +oncoming water had suddenly stirred the Middge public here to panic; +this abortive mob attack on the fortress was the result. The whole City +of the Mound was in a turmoil. It could do nothing but harm to the +Middge cause. + +Such fragments I gleaned. Fen knew that the Gians had opened the great +gates to drain our upper oceans. He knew of the demonstration against +the Castle, but was powerless to stop it. He had stayed at home to +await our coming. His eyes were not affected; he had been indoors, and +had escaped the light. + +But Entt and Nereid, even now, were almost blinded. They sat together +for the few moments while this swift talk proceeded. Our roof was so +low that in a bound I could have leaped its parapet and vaulted to the +ground. The city lay upward on the slope of the mound near at hand; in +the gloom its dull winking lights were visible. The cries of the mob +still sounded loudly. + + * * * * * + +It was decided that we should make our way on foot to the summit and +see what was transpiring. Fen was afraid that the thoughtless leaders +of the mob might make threats which would warn the Gians and divulge +that an intelligent, armed revolution was being organized. He wanted to +stop that if he could, and pacify the mob; quell this disturbance. + +They took me down into the house. Its oval stone rooms were furnished +in strange but obviously luxurious fashion; each had a tiny hooded +light. The ceilings were so low that I had to stoop a trifle. They gave +me a black suit, like those of Arturo and Tad. Abroad in the city I +would thus attract less attention. For my feet there were flexible hide +sandals, with thongs to bind them on. + +We gathered in a room with an outer doorway. It had all been done +swiftly; not more than ten minutes had passed since we landed on the +roof. + +We were ready to start. There was a sound of swift padding feet in the +near-by corridor, and a man burst into the room. He seemed a family +servant. He came running in, babbling with fear; and clung to Fen. + +I could understand nothing that was said as they gathered for a moment +around him. He seemed wholly terrorized. He was a Gian--there was no +mistaking the gray look to his skin; his black hair was shaved close +on a bullet head--but he was small, certainly not over five feet in +height. Dressed like the rest of us in the brief black garment, his +figure had a flabby, pudgy look. A fellow, I thought, outcast by his +race and come now to be a servant in Fen’s household. + +A broad, brown girdle bound his waist; it suggested an apron. Under his +arm he had a conical hat, with a bushy animal tail like a plume on it. +He clapped it on his head; it was grotesquely ornamental to the rest of +him. His whining voice seemed pleading with Fen. + +Tad came over to where I was standing apart. “Their servant, Bhool. +He’s afraid to be left here--he says the Middge will break in and +murder him.” + +I could not blame him for that. But he seemed a sniveling, craven +fellow. Tad was contemptuous. “He’s always been like that--afraid of +everything. And a listener in doorways--curious to know everything +everybody’s doing and then go into a panic over it. By the code, I’d +have had him thrown out of here long ago!” + +We took Bhool with us. Nereid, able to see a little now, fumbled for +a dark cloak of her own. She flung it over Bhool, so that in the +street he might pass unnoticed as a Gian. He was still sniveling. But +he eyed me curiously, amazed evidently at my size. In my own world I +could never have been termed excessively tall, though in the six-foot +class--to be exact, I stood just at six feet two inches. At this time I +weighed about a hundred and ninety. With my breadth of shoulder, I was +still lean at this weight. The sniveling fellow Bhool gazed up at me +awed, and edged away, fearful of me. + +We started. The streets at the foot of the Mound were deserted; narrow, +rocky streets, hemmed in by the stone walls of the low houses. It +was dim; there were apparently no public lights, only the occasional +glow from a house window, doorway or roof-top. We walked swiftly, Fen +leading with his vigorous stride. + +The air in the streets was hot, moist and oppressive. I felt that +queer, different thrust of gravity upon me, but I was getting used to +it now. I walked like the others, with a solid, plowing tread. + +We turned a corner and were soon upon the upward slope. I had expected +to find it different, walking uphill in this oppressive air. It was +not; I noticed, indeed, very little difference from walking on the +level ground. + + * * * * * + +Tad was beside me. “Listen to it, Jeff. Raising the devil up there--” + +We were still some half mile from the Castle. Cries sounded, occasional +screams ringing clear; and the low, blended murmur of the mob. + +But the street here was empty and soundless. In our sandals we padded +over its stones. There were street corners, yawning, empty and dark. +Black shadows where low archways opened like tunnel mouths into the +house. A woman with a baby in her arms came to a window and gazed at +us. Her white face, caught by an inner light was close to me as we +passed. Her eyes were stark black with fear. + +At a corner a group of men went running past and swung up the hill. +They were small, white-skinned folk, and they shouted at Fen. We +followed. + +As we advanced, the murmur of the mob up ahead sounded clearer. The +streets soon were filled. We passed a man, blind and seemingly in a +frenzy of fear. He staggered through the crowd. Some one caught him, +fought him, led him away. + +There were white forms lying in the street. The mob had evidently +surged down this far in its first blind panic and many were crushed. +We passed the slim white figure of a man whom some one had carried to +his own doorstep and dropped. A wailing woman knelt over him; a little +girl, curious, half frightened, stood beside the woman, plucking at her +robe. + +The servant, Bhool, kept close beside me now. His touch strangely +angered me; once, I thrust him away. + +We forced ourselves into the crowd. No one seemed to notice us. When we +came to the palisade, Fen saw an opening in the jam. + +“All of us keep together.” He forced his way forward. We found a place +to climb. It was a metallic fence some six feet high. Upon impulse +I put my hands on its top and tried to vault. I sailed over it with +astonishing ease, and landed lightly on the other side. + +The garden was crowded with people, but there was more room here than +in the upper street. Small, upright shrubs stood about, some vaguely +white with blossoms. In the gloom it was hard to tell them from the +human forms. + +We followed a gray stone path. The Castle loomed ahead, with walls some +thirty feet high. They stretched out seemingly for several hundred +feet--a squat, but widely spreading structure; its walls were turreted +at the angles; the windows all seemed guarded with interlaced metal +bars. A frowning prison of a building. A black vegetation clung to the +walls. There were small doorways along the ground at intervals--black, +barred openings with tiny lights in canopies over them. + +We tried to keep together. Arturo stayed always close by Nereid, +fending her off from the milling crowd. It was a threatening mob, here +in the garden. Aimless, apparently without a leader. It milled and +struggled, men and women brandishing implements of the field, or huge +sticks, and shouting aimless threats. There were many, recovered of +the blindness, who fought to press forward. There were others, still +blind and in terror, who strove to run away, or sat upon the ground +in huddled fright. And still others, lying inert, wholly unnoticed by +their fellows. + +I whispered to Tad: “Where are we going?” + +“Up closer. I don’t know.” + +Bhool whiningly suggested: “This way, masters--” + +We faced a broad front entrance to the Castle. A low flight of stone +steps led ten feet up to it. Gray figures of women stood in the +shadows up there, like guards. There seemed no more than four or five +of them. They stood in the entrance way; vaguely to be seen in its +shadows--stood silent and motionless. There was about them, these +motionless figures, something queerly sinister, as though they held +a power that made them impregnable to all this threatening crowd. +The Castle itself had that sinister aspect. Its grim silence; its +inactivity. It stood, here in the gloom, silently confident. I felt, +too, as I gazed at it, an inward sense of fear. A revulsion. As +though within these darkly brooding walls fearsome things must have +transpired. + + * * * * * + +The more courageous of the mob had surged toward the entrance steps +which now we were facing. They stood in a ring near the bottom of the +steps. But there seemed a deadline beyond which none dared pass; the +ground twenty feet out from the front of the steps was all clear. +The mob stood calling imprecations and brandishing weapons, but not +advancing. Waiting for a leader, perhaps. Occasionally some one would +rush forward, or be thrust forward by those behind. But after a step or +two, the would-be leader always retreated. And up in the entrance way +the gray Gian women never moved. + +Fen--with Bhool urging him sidewise--led us toward the steps; the crowd +was so dense we were soon struggling to advance. I was literally wading +through these little people; their bodies felt frail and slight as I +roughly thrust them aside. I called: “Arturo, let me over there.” I +joined him, to guard Nereid in the jam. + +Around us a man’s cry arose--a cry of triumph. Others took it up. There +was a surge of people toward me; behind me I saw them following like a +wave. Calling at me in friendly triumph. My height, head and shoulders +above them all; my white skin, clear to them in the darkness--they +suddenly saw in me their needed leader. They surged triumphantly around +me. + +But Fen, with vehement words, scattered them. We forced our way to the +open space, beyond which was the Castle entrance. We were at one side, +not far from the side edge of the steps. I felt hands clinging to me. +That accursed, sniveling Bhool; I cast him off. + +I had been aware all this time, of a radiance on the castle roof-top. +Women’s figures were up there in a dull purple glow. We stopped and +gathered around Fen. I gazed upward. The gray figure of a man stood +prominent on the parapet. He was standing like a grim silent statue. +He suddenly whirled, leaped down, and in a moment reappeared. A woman +was with him. A group of men came running on the roof with a small bank +of steps. The man helped the woman mount them. She came up with a slow +regal majesty, the men deferentially helping her. She stood on the +broad parapet top, and the man crouched at her feet. + +“Rhana!” + +A wave of it went over the crowd, followed by a sudden hushed murmur of +awe. Then the hush broke; there was a screaming of threats; a violent +surging on the mob. But I noticed that no one advanced; and the cries +presently died away again into a fear-struck silence. + +The woman on the parapet waited serene and motionless. She was no +more than fifty feet from me; the purple sheen of light etched her +vividly. A woman six feet tall; full-breasted, slim of hip. A flexible +heart-shaped shield bound her torso; her gray limbs were free. The +shield gleamed purple in the light like smooth polished metal, +thin-beaten to mold itself like a sheath about her body. + +She stood with figure drawn to its full height. Her head, poised upon +a slim neck, was crowned with black hair wound in coils, with a black +metallic headdress. Against the night, her profile showed; slim neck +and upheld chin--a nose high-bridged, hawklike. + +She raised her arms as the mob in the garden fell silent. Broad +bracelets of metal were on her wrists, and from them heavy gleaming +white chains dangled. Abruptly she struck with her arm; the white chain +swished and lashed upon the naked gray back of the man crouching at her +feet. He cringed, slid off the parapet and vanished to the roof-top. +She stood smiling. + +This woman, Satanic-- + +It was a gesture wholly cruel, unnecessary. A blow deliberate, without +anger, without reason save that it pandered to the feminine vanity of +her, thus to demonstrate her power. I gazed at that hawklike profile. +Almost beautiful; the slim gray throat rising from that full bosom; the +firm, but delicate chin; the mouth, firm-lipped, cruelly smiling now. + +This woman, Satanic. Ah, there were refinements of cruelty that none +but a woman--and a woman like this--could devise! The thought flashed +to me, and it was not long before I had cause to remember it! + +She slowly raised her arms, with the silver chains dangling. And in a +moment, when the silence was complete, she began to speak. Her voice +was low-pitched at first--a calm, confident voice. But there was a +harsh rasp to it. + +The crowd listened to that carrying voice, with the driving sense of +power behind it. To every corner of the garden and to the streets +beyond it rolled clear. A moment, then she was speaking faster. +Fluently; the words tumbling, rising to a climax. She stopped abruptly. +She was raised on tiptoe, every line of her tense. Her arms were up, +palms toward the faces gazing up at her--a gesture half benign, half +menacing. In her pause a faint quavering cheer arose; but under it +there was the murmur of threats. She began again, quietly talking above +the noise. + +Entt, with his blurred sight, had stayed close by Fen. But he seemed +fully recovered now. Nereid stood with her father’s arm protectingly +around her. Tad was there; Arturo and I were a few feet farther away. +The black edge of the fortress steps was near us; and beyond the black +blob of an upstanding shrub the dark wall bulged out in a sort of +turret. I whispered to Arturo: + +“What does she say? Can you understand her?” + +“No, not much of it.” He called cautiously, “Oh, Entt!” + +Entt moved over. “Entt, what is she saying?” + + * * * * * + +He told us. She was assuring the Middge people there was no cause +to be frightened. “She says, ‘I am going up to conquer the world of +light. A beautiful region--my Gian army will conquer it. I will rule +everything--prepare it up there for you to come and live so happily.’” + +Arturo burst out: “But, my God, Entt--the abyss here will be flooded. +You know that. If the gates break--they will break, she expects them +to--we’ll all have to get out of here soon, a million or two of the +Middge people. How can they get out?” + +“Wait! She says now she will prepare a way of escape--soon, but just +at this present time all is water up there. When the--what you call +ocean--is partly down, she knows where the Middge can go and wait in +safety.” + +“She lies!” Arturo exclaimed. “She does not care where the people go, +or how they escape!” + +“Wait! I listen more--” Entt moved back to join the others. + +Again I felt a soft, insistent plucking at me; Bhool cringed at my +feet. “Master, look there!” + +In the gloom I could see his shaking gray arm; his hand pointing toward +the shrub and the bulge of the castle wall. + +“What?” I demanded. “Arturo, what does he say?” + +Bhool was insistent: terrorized, but insistent. “Masters, look there!” + +We saw nothing. Bhool stood up; he was trembling. He took a step toward +the shrub. “What is it, masters?” + +Arturo strode to the shrub. He poked about it. We three were alone in +this small shadowed area. + +“Nothing,” whispered Arturo contemptuously. “Bhool, you’re an accursed +whining--” + +“Masters, not there.” We were standing at the shrub. “Over there, at +the wall--a Middge man lying. He is not dead. I saw him move.” + +We took another step or two. The ground sharply descended; six feet +away there seemed a black opening--in the wall--and a faint movement +there. It seemed, not as though some one were lying there, but more +like light. I recall that I was tensed to leap backward with the +premonition of danger. Arturo’s hand gripped me. + +“What is it, Jeff? Can you see anything?” + +We stood tense in the darkness at the brink of the small declivity. +Bhool was behind us. He suddenly pushed us violently with a heave of +his body. We sprawled forward. I fell to my hands and knees; Arturo +was thrown partly upon me. A light was gripping us. It stung; my flesh +smarted in its grip--a tangible force of something holding me. I fought +with it. Arturo was fighting. + +“Jeff--” His voice died in a gurgle. We were being lifted, were sliding +into a yawning doorway. + +I could not shout; my throat was taut, and closing. With Arturo +struggling, half gripping me, we were drawn, sucked inward. + +“Jeff--” + +The darkness closed; the light was phosphorescent, holding us. With +fading senses I slid into a blank, black silence. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII. + + THE UNDERGROUND CELL. + + +I recovered consciousness to find myself lying on a soft bed. I seemed +comfortable, luxurious, with a feeling of well-being and pleasure. I +opened my eyes; shuddering memory leaped to me. I sat up. + +I was on a low couch of soft, furry skins. In a dim, vaulted stone +room. On the bed beside me sat Arturo. + +“Well, Jeff!” He smiled at me; relief in his smile. He seemed +uninjured, sitting there waiting anxiously for me to recover +consciousness. + +“You’re not hurt, Jeff? Lean back--take it quietly.” + +My head was suddenly whirling; I leaned against the stone wall behind +me. + +“They said you’d be all right, Jeff.” + +My skin was smarting as though it had been burned; but in a moment my +head steadied. Strength came to me. I sat up vigorously beside Arturo. + +“What was it? Where are we?” + +“In the Castle. They got us. That accursed Bhool--” + +Memory of Bhool came to me. He had betrayed us. A spy, that Gian. I +recalled now, how he had eyed me. How in the garden he had kept edging +me away. All under cover of that sniveling cowardice. An actor, that +fellow! + +Arturo laughed wryly. “I guess so, but I imagine he’s a coward just +the same. It’s a wonder Fen never suspected him. They want you, Jeff, +evidently. She--” + +“That woman Rhana?” + +“Yes. She heard of your arrival. Bhool must have been told to get you.” + +I tried to stand on my feet, but I was still shaky. + +“How long have we been here?” + +“I don’t know. I’ve been sitting here watching you, six or eight hours.” + +“Did you faint, or whatever it was happened to us?” + +“Yes. For how long, I don’t know. I found myself lying here with you. +Then a woman came in, gave me something to drink. She said you’d be all +right--that the stronger person always suffered most from the light. I +imagine she’ll be back--” + +I got on my feet. “We’ll have to get out of here.” + +He acquiesced in that. But quite evidently he had already examined our +cell--it was no less than that; and he seemed not very hopeful. We were +in a stone room some twenty feet square. The rough stone walls had a +gleaming black metallic look to them; the floor was smooth burnished +metal. The low, flat ceiling barely cleared my head by an inch; it was +gray, smooth as polished steel. There was the couch; a metal table, +shaped like a huge cup; and a metal chair. + +Arturo followed me about the room. “Not much chance, Jeff. I’ve been +trying to plan something, but I haven’t yet decided.” + +There were two small orifices in the ceiling. From one came the faint +purple glow of light; its tiny shade was pushed aside; it spread +downward like an electrolier and cast a six-foot circle on the floor. +The other hole seemed to be admitting a current of fresh air. The room +was queerly dank; beads of moisture were sweating on the ceiling. + +There was a small door, convex like the round door to a bank vault. +It had a pane the size of my face; I stood and peered through it--a +substance as transparent as glassite, brittle evidently, and solid +as ancient glass. It seemed fully two feet thick, like a bull’s-eye. +Beyond it there was the dim vision of a vaulted metal corridor. + +The opposite wall, up against the ceiling, held a similar small pane +like a window. It was level with my eyes; I could see a barred grating +beyond the bull’s-eye; and outside that, not the garden as I had hoped, +but seemingly another corridor. + +“No good, Jeff. There’s no chance,” Arturo said. + + * * * * * + +I fancied we might wrench a piece of metal from this bed, or table. The +walls were of stone; they crumbled a trifle as I scratched at them with +my nails. They might not be very thick--if we could dig our way out-- + +“And find ourselves--where?” Arturo objected. “That isn’t an outer +wall. I tell you there’s no use trying. Give me time; I’m planning +something.” + +“I know it isn’t an outer wall. This woman who brought you the +drink--did she come alone?” + +“Yes. But there were voices just outside the door.” + +“If we could leap on her--make a run for it--” + +“With others in the corridor?” + +“There might not be, next time she comes. Is she armed?” + +“I don’t know. I guess so.” + +Nor did he know the inner lay-out of the castle, or whether we were at +its top, or bottom. He thought there were two floors. + +“I’ve never been in here before. Tad has, before I came--before we +got this revolution under way. She knows about that, Jeff; it’s open +hostility now. God, we’re prisoners here--she’ll be coming down to see +us. What she’ll do to us eventually! That woman, Jeff--” He shuddered. +“You don’t know--” + +“You’re not very coherent, Arturo. But you’re right enough; it seems to +me I know almost nothing about all this.” + +He was sitting on the bed, chin in hand, staring. I sat down beside him. + +“See here, Arturo--haven’t you taken a little too much on yourself?” + +He seemed suddenly breaking. This pale, slender boy of nineteen was +trembling. He stared at me. “What do you mean?” + +“You overrode your father. Easy, lad, I want to talk plainly to you. +You told your father nothing. Nor Polly--nor me. You’ve got me down +here into this--” + +“I wouldn’t voluntarily endanger you, Jeff. I didn’t mean--” + +“Don’t be a fool!” + +“I’ve been trying to do my best.” + +“Of course you have. But I’m trying to show you. You take too much on +yourself.” + +He stared at his feet. “I’ve only been doing my best.” + +“I know. But I’m trying now, Arturo, to show you--I’m older than you +are--maybe I’ve got more sense and more judgment than you have--” + +He looked up and smiled. “Of course you have. I haven’t been reticent, +or I don’t want to be--” + +“You haven’t made much effort to take any one into your confidence, +Arturo.” + +“You’re wrong, Jeff. Old Fen, and Tad--they wouldn’t say I’ve tried to +run them, or force my ideas--” + +“I’m talking about myself. And your father and Polly, up there in the +Dolphin when this thing began. We may be in a desperate position now, +Arturo.” + +“We are. This horrible woman--” + +“I know you’re trying to help our world up there, Nereid, and these +Middge people as you call them--you’re not afraid for yourself. But, +Arturo, we may never get out of here alive. The help we could have +given--don’t you see? You may be wrong. I want to start now, if it +isn’t too late. I want a chance to use my own judgment, not yours, +Arturo. Nor Nereid’s, nor Fen’s--nobody’s but my own, understand?” + +The rasp of the cell door opening brought us to our feet. It swung +slowly outward. + +In the corridor stood the woman Rhana. + + * * * * * + +She stooped and came quietly in. At the doorway, which remained open, +a gray woman stood guard. Rhana advanced to the center of the cell. +The light from above slanted down on her, and her metal headdress +gleamed--a white banded thing of carved metal. Tiny chains with +flashing jewels hung from it; at her forehead, a metal image, hideous +as a gargoyle, raised its beak--a grotesque bird screaming defiance, a +red gem for its single eye. The thing was so hideous, it gave her face +beneath it a greater beauty. + +She had come in with a barefoot tread; her body, incased in the gray +heart-shaped sheath, was catlike. A giant feline. + +Barbaric creature! But there was a strange aspect of civilized +modernity about her also. Her gray limbs were bare; the chains hung +from her arms. Barbaric. The headdress; the heavy metal anklets, with +pendent gems tinkling on them as she moved. But mingled with the +barbarism was that look of modernity; a narrow black band like soft +velvet encircled her throat; across the back of her shoulders, a black +cloak hung in folds to her waist; a black ribbon around her neck held +what seemed a pair of eyeglasses, with darkened lenses. + +She stood for a moment calmly surveying us as we moved instinctively +away. Her long gray fingers, with a bank of jewels covering the back of +her hand, toyed idly with the hanging eyeglasses. + +She spoke. “So you are the big man from the world of light?” Her gaze +ignored Arturo; it was fastened on me. Calm, dark-eyed gaze. I felt the +power of her then. There is an aura surrounding greatness. It cannot +be mistaken. This woman had it, the aura of genius. An aura of evil, a +fascination--evil but compelling. She gestured calmly. “Come over here. +Stand up--here, near me.” + +I obeyed. I was alert, tense. I stood before her, taller than she by an +inch or two. + +“So? They are right--you stand higher.” Her voice, with the most +perfect use of my language I had heard from any of these people, had a +purring, musing quality. She frowned a little. + +“So? They told me true--you stand higher.” + +“What do you want of me?” It was an effort to hold my voice quietly +level, but I managed it. + +“He speaks, this man, when not directly questioned--” + +This darkling gaze. Not like Nereid’s, these eyes. Black pools, with a +black fire down in them. Her lips curled with a faint irony. + +“You are not then afraid of me?” + +“No.” + +“So?” + +“Should I be?” + +“He questions--he dares!” + +Her jeweled hands came up. For an instant I thought she would strike +me. But her hands dropped to my shoulders and rested lightly. One of +the chains clanked against me. + +“He questions--he stares at me--he is not afraid, this man. What is +your name?” + +She snapped it out with a rasp, so sudden a change it startled me. I +jerked away from her involuntarily; but with a leap, feline, incredibly +swift, she caught at my shoulders again and twisted me around. I stood +docile. + + * * * * * + +“He is strong, solid.” Her appraising fingers bit into my shoulders. +She added, calmly, this time: + +“What is it, the name they call you?” + +“Geoffry Grant.” + +She repeated it, memorizing it. “Why is it you come here to my world?” + +I said carefully, “My friends are here. We are going back--up there--” + +It seemed to amuse her. “So? You have your plans? That is wrong--men +should have no plans. Men and children with plans are annoying.” + +A sound from the doorway made her drop my shoulders and swing around. +Bhool came slinking in. He cringed. + +She rasped, “What do you want?” + +He answered her in his own language, but she checked him imperiously. +“We do not talk that here.” + +“He is tall as I said, great Rhana?” He whined ingratiatingly. He cast +a sidelong glance of triumph at me. + +Arturo had been standing back against the wall. He took a sudden step. +“You cowardly little hangar-rat!” + +I whirled. “Hush, Arturo!” + +Bhool, fortified by Rhana’s presence, retorted. “Not so cowardly--I did +capture you.” + +Arturo avoided me; he took another step at Bhool, who retreated. I +shoved Arturo away. + +Rhana exclaimed, “You quarrel? Stop it--” She swished a chain, idly as +though at disobedient quarreling dogs. It caught around Bhool’s legs; +he groveled. + +She said frowningly, “You annoy me, Bhool, to want praise. I gave you +reward. You forget you have duties not done yet.” He slunk through +the doorway at her gesture. She added abruptly, “You are interesting, +Geoffry Grant--I will come again--” + +“I’m hungry,” I said. + +She smiled. “You shall be fed. I would have no man hungry unless he has +done wrong.” + +I added impulsively, “I want to get out of here!” I watched to see how +she would take it. + +She smiled further. “We all want many things. You are interesting. I +will not come again--I will send for you.” Her gaze barely touched +Arturo. She added to me, “He will die here pleasantly enough. We will +leave him when we go.” + +She turned, and stooped for the doorway. The heavy door closed after +her. + + * * * * * + +“But see here, Arturo, what was it you planned for me, when you sent +for me, brought me down here?” + +“That’s of no use now, I tell you.” + +We were sitting on the couch of our cell after Rhana had left us. + +“Isn’t that for me to judge, Arturo?” + +He was suddenly meek. My words had had effect. “You’re right, Jeff. +What is it you wanted to know?” + +“A good many things. What was I supposed to do with this Rhana?” + +“I thought,” he said, “we could send you to her. Pretend you might help +her with the coming war. And you might capture her, perhaps, or kill +her. Without a leader these women would go to pieces. The Gian men are +worse--you see?” + +“Not exactly,” I said. + +“Well, she would like you. Easy for you to get into her confidence. She +does like you, Jeff; that’s obvious. There’s nobody would dare speak to +her the way you did. It just made her smile--you could handle her.” + +I had my doubts on that. “She said, take me with her--” + +“Her army must be about ready, Jeff. And leave me here to die. Well--” + +“But we’re going to get out of here,” I assured him. + +We had decided that all we could do now was wait quietly for the woman +to come with food, and be on the alert then to see if we might escape. + +We sat for a time, there on the couch. Arturo talked freely. He knew a +great deal of the situation, here, and the geography of this strange +dark realm. He talked swiftly, at first with no comments. + +This main abyss, through which we had flown, was lens-shaped--some +forty or fifty miles between the surfaces at its greatest diameter, and +in length perhaps three hundred miles. He thought that it lay, not as I +had visualized, flat beneath the floor of our Pacific Ocean, but tilted +diagonally edgewise. + +We had entered near its upper end, where it reached within a few miles +of the ocean bed. We had flown down its length. The City of the Mound, +then, must lie two hundred miles or more underground. + +There was, at the upper end, no exit except the system of locks down +which we had come. + +“There’s no escape that way, Jeff. The Gians have a few hundred of +those sub-sea vehicles. A few are large ones--as large as the locks +will take. The locks were built, a generation ago, for this purpose. +The Gians have been planning this thing for that long. Rhana is about +ready now. Her army--and all the Gians--will escape upward that way.” + +“How many of them are there?” + +“Not many. I suppose forty or fifty thousand. They’re all here in the +City of the Mound, and in two other cities across on the other surface. +They’ll be starting soon. But what about the Middge? A million of them, +I imagine. They can’t get through the locks. No vehicles to spare--no +room, no time.” + +From this main lens-shaped abyss, caverns, tunnels and passageways +everywhere opened off, especially at this lower end. It was a vast +honeycomb. Tunnels led to caverns and pits glowing with molten fire. +There were vast passages, black and unexplored; no one could guess +where they led, in this vast honeycomb, the sub-surface shell of our +earth--the porous, thick skin of an orange. + +There was, near the City of the Mound, a passage a mile or two in width. + +It plunged steeply downward. Erroneous term! Who could say, downward, +or upward? It led, within a few hours on foot, to another great abyss. +A black oily sea lay on one of its surfaces. The black space facing +it--floor or ceiling as you will--had never been explored. + +This watery abyss they called the realm of the monsters. No human lived +there. Fearsome monsters of the deep, and flying things, and things +that crawled, were there. Sometimes they would wander through the +tunnel passage out into the abyss here where humans had their cities. +The passage now was always guarded with flood lights. The monsters +feared the light; its faintest glow blinded them; it turned them back. +For generations now none of them had come through. + +I said, “These people seem very advanced with their science, Arturo. +Engineering achievements--why didn’t they wall up this connecting +passage completely? You say it’s only a mile or two wide.” + + * * * * * + +“They doubtless would have,” he said. “But access to the monsters’ +realm is necessary. Centuries ago--how long ago no one now can say--a +downward pressure of water menaced all this realm. Water from up +above--from our Pacific doubtless--must have started breaking through. +The rift was on the other side--that black sea of the monsters’ realm. +This civilization is far older than ours, Jeff. I’m talking now of some +remote past time when we might have been struggling in the Stone Age. +Or before that. A rift came, and water menaced all this honeycombed +region. The ancient people living here then must have been far advanced +in science. And human life was very plentiful and held cheaply. + +“There is a system of dams and locks and watergates out there now, +Jeff. I’ve never seen them, but I’ve heard them described. Like the +dykes and canal gates, and dams of Holland, built gradually over +centuries. It must have been a constant battle down here with the +pressing water. They fought it. Out there now is a gigantic man-made +barrier, with flood-gates, which if the pressure got too great, they +could cautiously open to relieve it. Inconceivable to construct, but +there it is. Like the pyramids, Jeff; patient toiling of millions of +workers for generations. And they had science with them. The gates and +wall must be hundreds of miles long, at the least. The gates are all +controlled by one small mechanism--in a little fortress gate-house +at this end of the dam. They are opened wide now--water is rushing +through--” + +His voice rose. “The Middge can’t close them. The revolution isn’t +ready, the weapons aren’t assembled. We have no weapons ready at +all. Nobody is armed, or trained for fighting. A mob attack on the +gate-house--she’d see it coming, and laugh at it.” + +“But Arturo, there in that other cavern, it must be two hundred miles +beneath our Pacific.” + +He quieted. “I think so. There is some abyss in the ocean floor which +we never have yet discovered. That is it, undoubtedly. And from it some +gigantic, water-filled passage. That passage, leading downward, ending +down here--” + +I tried to grasp the mathematics of it. But there was so little upon +which to base a calculation. Water descending a passage, even hundreds +of miles wide--passing down here through gates equally wide--it might +take years to drain all our oceans. The gates were open full now. I +recalled the newscasters of New York reporting the tides down a fathom +in a day. Ten years, and there would still be water in the Nero Deep. I +tried to estimate this abyss here across which we had flown. Fifty--a +hundred like it might drain our Pacific. + +But this abyss was comparatively small; the realm of the monsters +was far larger. Both of them, for the Pacific Ocean is not much over +two miles in average depth, would drain it. And what other vast +subterranean realms might be down here! Passages a thousand miles in +length. Other caverns, under the Americas--under the Atlantic. + +But it would take years to drain our oceans. A year perhaps, to fill up +the two main caverns here. I said it to Arturo. + +“Yes, Jeff. But the gates and the walls and the dams out there won’t +hold. They’ll break under the full surge of water and the erosion. The +walls of the upper passage, with that torrent flooding down, will break +sidewise--” + +He burst into a half coherent description. The scientists of the Middge +were able to estimate it. This whole region, from here up to the ocean +bed, was honeycombed; and the rock strata themselves comparatively +loose and porous. With the gigantic torrent of swiftly descending +water, rifts would be made. Small, then greater. The whole region would +collapse. And there were molten fire-pits everywhere. The water would +reach them. + + * * * * * + +I said, “Last night, Arturo, the gates were opened for a time.” + +“Yes. But only a trifle, at the distant end. The water escaped into +passages across the monsters’ realm. They lead, no one knows where.” + +“Everywhere,” I said. “And that water mingled with the fires of the +earth--you remember, Arturo.” + +He sat up abruptly. “Every volcano was active. Storms, earthquakes--” + +“Yes,” I agreed. We had been thinking, Arturo particularly, only of +this subterranean world. But what about the surface? Our own world +up there? Our great nations, our millions of people? My mind went to +little Polly. + +My imagination widened. This rolling globe in space which we call +earth, its teeming millions, its civilization, the gigantic unknown +forces of nature, were being tampered with, so that one set of humans +might bring harm to another. A titanic whirlpool of events, rushing to +overwhelm us. + +And in the midst of it all, Arturo and I sat here in this fortress +cell. Two tiny grains of sand on a vast beach with the ocean pounding. +What could we do about it? Of what use to try? A million minds were +groping with it; our great nations, with all their far-flung resources; +the Middge scientists down here. + +But the human mind individualizes. I saw Polly. + +In all the interwoven, complicated affairs of struggling nations, the +individual always is supreme. Sometimes, just one individual. The +keystone of an arch--you pull it out, and the arch falls. And with the +arch, the whole great edifice comes down to destruction. + +There was this one woman, Rhana. She had opened these gates, to +start these tumbling, cataclysmic events. But might not the gates be +flung closed, now while there was yet time? A single small operating +mechanism--why, one hand, mine perhaps, might close them. And demolish +the mechanism--one hand, mine perhaps, might do it. They would stay +closed then. And with it done--that one vital thing like replacing the +keystone of a crumbling arch--all these far-flung events would cease. + +I leaped to my feet. “Arturo, see here--I’ve got to get to that +gate-house! We must escape from here at once. I think I know how we +might do it!” + + + + + CHAPTER XIV. + + IN THE DARK CORRIDOR. + + +“All ready, Arturo?” + +“Yes.” + +I shouted at him: “Stop that!” + +He picked up one of the small metal chairs and flung it at me. I +ducked. The thing was heavy, and crashed against the bed with a violent +clang. I ran at him. + +He whispered, “Easy, Jeff--you’re strong.” We wrestled. I flung him +to the floor of the cell; the table overturned, clanging with metal +against metal like a gong. We lay, listening. + +“Think they’ll hear us?” + +“Yes.” I had previously noticed sounds coming down the ventilator from +above; occasionally the faint blended murmur of voices as though from a +room overhead. “Better keep it up,” I whispered. “They may be able to +see us.” + +We rolled, fighting and shouting. In his zeal Arturo turned me over +and was sitting on me. We presently heard the sound of our cell door +opening; I twisted free, flung him away and leaped to my feet. In the +doorway three gray women stood; Arturo lay writhing. + +[Illustration: _The cell door opened and several Gian women stood +there._] + +“What--you do--what you doing?” One of the women came in. A woman tall, +but shorter than Rhana. She wore a similar shield, and a cloak of +brown. She was jeweled. + +I was panting, but alert. The chance might come any time. This woman +did not seem armed. The two in the doorway stood keenly watching me. +They were all garbed the same; they seemed rather more like high-born +attendants upon Rhana, than guards. + +I said, “He is a fool--I don’t want to be here with him.” My gaze was +contemptuous. The other two women had come into the cell. Out of the +tail of my eyes I surveyed them. Seemingly unarmed. I could make a run +for it. Arturo was alert. Lying groveling, but tense to spring up at my +signal. + +Abruptly I relaxed. Men were in the corridor outside. A group of them. +I could see weapons in their dangling hands. + +“Take me out of here,” I demanded. “He sickens me--he is a fool--I will +kill him if I stay here.” + +The woman deliberated. I fancied I saw admiration for me in her eyes. +She said: + +“You must not fight--bad.” + +As though we were children! Arturo was up on one elbow. + +“I don’t like him--I don’t like this room. Take me to another--” He +gestured overhead. “Up there--this has no air down here--” + +If she would do it! I added, “He can come with me--it is the air +here--I won’t fight--we’re both hungry--” + +The woman rasped out a sudden command. Two men came into the room. +They were about the woman’s height; stocky fellows, with bullet heads +of close-clipped black hair. Guards, evidently, garbed in gleaming +suits of metal cloth, wearing bands about their foreheads with gleaming +jewels. In their hands, and hanging against their chests were weapons; +a curving, knifelike blade; small girds and projectors. + +The woman spoke imperiously to them. She said to me: “We take you--” + +Arturo was on his feet, his eyes searching me. + +“And him?” I demanded. + +“He stay here.” + +Disappointment flooded Arturo; I flashed him a warning glance. + +“But he is hungry,” I pleaded. + +“I send food.” + +One of the men pulled at me, but I pushed him off. “I want him to come +with me--” + +The woman leaped. Her hands went to my shoulders; her dark eyes blazed +at me; unreasoning anger in them--she might have done anything--ordered +me killed without stopping to think of it. “You talk much. Go!” + +With a last look at Arturo, I turned and let them lead me out. + +We followed the dim vaulted corridor. The women went ahead with their +catlike tread. There were two men beside me; others in front and +behind. We passed other vaulted doorways. A turn up a small incline; +over a dark interior bridge of metal. It spanned a black void; +overhead, the vaulted metal roof was within touch of my hand. Into +another larger corridor; this one brighter. + +I was alert trying to remember the turns--I would have to get back here +some way to Arturo. Or persuade Rhana to bring him up. + + * * * * * + +The interior of the building seemed enormous. We turned other +corners evidently into another wing; ascended another incline. It +was surprisingly long and steep. I realized Arturo’s cell must be +underground. We came to an upper hallway. I saw a room with barred +windows that seemingly opened to the garden. There were lights out +there now. We advanced through a room thronged with Gians, men and +women. They made way for us; the babble of their voices hushed, and +they stared at my towering figure curiously. We crossed the room. A +wide door opened. + +I was in the presence of Rhana. She sat at a table. It was littered +with flexible sheets--metal, perhaps--like paper, with strange writing +upon them. Women sat around her. Men, garbed in vivid clothes of bright +colors, were in the room, most of them standing. A man to whom Rhana +had been speaking, made an obsequious gesture and hastened from the +room. Two other men and a woman came forward to report to her. + +There was an air of hurried activity. That outside room with its +waiting, excited throng; here, in this inner private apartment, Rhana +with her close subordinates, directing the departure. There were broad +windows through which I could see the lighted garden; Gians out there, +moving about with apparatus; a large aërocar was there, being loaded. +Departure for battle. I did not need to be told it was that. It was +plainly to be seen. + +They stood me before Rhana. I met her gaze, with a level frown of my +own. My heart was pounding. These windows were larger, and unbarred. +The ground was no more than twenty feet below. I remembered my vaulting +over the garden palisade. I could leap from one of these windows and +not be hurt. Or, there was a staircase here in the room, leading to the +roof. + +Rhana was saying: “So? You make a disturbance? How do you dare?” + +“I’m hungry. I want to be fed.” + +Some of these men were armed. There were too many here now. If I could +wait here until they went away. + +Rhana looked at the women beside her, as though to see what they +thought of me. She was smiling with faint amusement. + +“You want food--now?” + +“Yes.” I added boldly: “And here. I want it here with you.” + +She said something about me to the other women. They nodded, smiled and +regarded me with a new interest--as though I were a precocious child, +to be admired and tolerated. + +“Here with me?” + +“Yes.” + +A man was near me, standing by an empty chair. I shoved him out of the +way, and sat down, as though I were a willful child. But there was +something else in the expressions of these women. I was a man; it was +to them a new masculinity, instinctively to be admired. The Gian man +shrank from my frowning aspect. Rhana said: + +“So? You are very bad--but interesting. You shall be fed here, if you +do not annoy me.” + +“I’ll sit over there.” Another empty chair, much nearer one of the +windows. But these women were not fools. Rhana gestured sharply. Two +armed men--they looked like beribboned popinjays in their bright gaudy +costumes--moved quickly over between me and the window. + +Rhana went back to her work. I sat there perhaps an hour. Food and +drink came to me. I tasted it cautiously. But I was famished, and glad +of the strength it would give me. Strange things--but I ate and drank +with relish. + + * * * * * + +The activity of the room went on. I could not understand anything that +was said. The garden was active--every appearance of bustling, feverish +haste. The aëro--a gray thing a hundred feet in length--was loaded +and got away. Another, empty, came sailing down to take its place. +Gians were arriving. Men and women; and there were children. Food; +apparatus--all loaded on the arriving and departing aëros. A line of +marching gray men assembled, and were loaded on an aërocar. It left. + +I saw not a single Middge. But down in the city I could hear occasional +cries. Once, a throng of Gian families--carrying children and household +goods--came up from the city escorted by soldiers. There had been a +disturbance a moment before; I imagine a mob of the Middge may have +assailed them. Rhana issued angry commands, and several messengers +dashed away. + +A stream of couriers constantly arrived with what seemed reports from +distant localities. Rhana and the other women consulted over them. + +The room at last began quieting. There was a lull in the garden. I +wondered if my chance had come. But I was constantly being closely +watched. There were three of these popinjays near me now. Each had a +small black weapon in his hand; they never took their eyes off me. + +Rhana at last stood up. Her command cleared the room of its waiting +people. The women at the table went up the steps to the roof and +vanished. I was alone with Rhana, save for my three men guards. They +were still beside me, alert as ever. + +She gestured. “Come over here--sit by me. I am tired now. It will amuse +me to talk with you.” + +The guards moved over with me. I sat by her. She began questioning me +about my world. The size and the extent of the surface up there. She +said nothing of her plans--nor asked me anything personal of myself. +They seemed idle questions; generalities. I told her as well as I +could, things about our civilization. Our mode of life. Things at +random as they occurred to me. But I kept clear of anything which might +be of military value to her. + +She listened with an eager, absorbed interest. Once, when I paused, she +said: + +“You talk always of men. Your men must be very strange. Your friend +they call Tad, spoke of them the same--men like women--” + +I laughed. “Not like women.” + +“I mean, born to command. To leadership, like women.” + +I said: “Ours is a man-made world. But we realize, we men are what our +mothers make us. There are things in life more important to women then +trying to run the world.” + +She raised her heavy eyebrows. “You think so?” + +“Yes. Things only women can do. The best of our women think so, too.” + +She said decisively: “It is not so here.” It amused her. “A world run +by men! How absurd it must be!” + +I could read her thoughts. She was going to war against men; she felt +it a very simple thing. + +She added: “You, Geoffry Grant, do not like women born to command?” + +She said it with a smile, but there was an edge under it; a tigress’s +claws lying within the soft paws. + +I parried cautiously: “Did I say that? We have had women who were +queens and empresses. Women who stood alone at the head of nations.” + +“So? And they ruled well?” + +“Some did. Some did not.” + +She purred: “You do not like commanding women--like me?” She was toying +with one of her dangling ornaments. I could have said I liked Nereid +somewhat better, but I did not. I retorted: + +“I am only a man. You embarrass me.” + + * * * * * + +She seemed annoyed at herself. At her weakness perhaps, for asking a +man’s opinion. She said: “You are a fool. Conceited because you are big +and strong. I will show you--” + +She stood up quietly. “Sit still, Geoffry Grant.” The chains on her +wrists were looped up around her arms to be out of the way. She began +unfastening them. + +I think it was her intention to flog me. I had been all this time +surreptitiously watching my three guards. If I could get one of them +near me--snatch his weapon. Or by a sudden rush knock them down-- + +Rhana unloosed the chains. “I will show you!” Her eyes were abruptly +blazing with anger at me. A sound behind made her look around. A man +blundered into the room through the farther doorway. He had seemingly +come in not realizing where he was. A Gian from another city perhaps. +Her anger turned on him. She leaped at him. My guards rushed for me; +one stood with a weapon pressed against me. I remained docile. + +The Gian man groveled as the chain struck him. She lashed; and with +his cries of pain her rage burst into a fury ungovernable. He lay +insensible and bleeding when she had finished. Other men appeared. They +carried him away. She wound the chains around her sleek gray arms; came +back to me. She was breathing hard, but the fire had gone from her +eyes. Her voice was perfectly composed. + +“A stupid man, Geoffry Grant, to come in here like that. He will not do +it again.” + +“No,” I murmured. “Doubtless not.” + +My guards had relaxed. They were standing away, but still within +reach of me if I leaped. I was tense. Rhana sat down. She began to +talk. I scarcely heard her. I was planning how to fight my way out of +here. My thoughts ran swiftly, no more than half coherent. Down to +Arturo--fighting my way. But that was impossible. I would be caught and +killed. But the flood-gates, off there in that distant cavern, must +be closed. That was my purpose. Far above my own life, or Arturo’s. I +could get out of here perhaps, with a rush for one of those windows. + +I was answering Rhana mechanically. I would have to leave Arturo, but I +could come back for him. These Gians would depart and leave him there +to die. Tad and I would come back and release him. + +Thoughts are swift-flying things. They flooded me; yet it was all but a +moment. Tad. It seemed abruptly that something asked me, “_Where is +Arturo?_” + +My own thought? No, it was not that. Something else--Tad, or Nereid. +I felt the presence of them both, their thoughts, something of them +here--imploring me, “_Where is Arturo?_” + +I had felt like this, that night in New York. I stirred restlessly in +my chair. + +“Yes,” I said to Rhana. “I think so.” What had she asked me? I could +not remember. I was recalling the route I had taken up from Arturo’s +underground cell. And something replied, soundlessly in my mind, +“_Oh, yes, I know._” + +Like a thought from Tad, or Nereid. But now it was more than that. +Something of them tangibly here. Rhana felt it. She, too, moved +uneasily in her chair. + +She abruptly stopped what she was saying to me. And added tensely: “You +feel it? What is it?” + + * * * * * + +There was almost fear in her voice--the fear of the gruesome, the +uncanny, the unknown. Her hand moved along the table edge. The +illumination of the room abruptly vanished; darkness enshrouded us. +I could see nothing. Then, just the outlines of the windows with the +lights of the garden behind them. In the silence I thought I could +hear Rhana’s breathing. I could sense her near me; and the guards. +Make a run for it now! But I could barely see in this darkness; and I +remembered that these Gians could see comfortably. + +The three guards and Rhana? But there was something else here. +Something not to be seen, scarce to be felt. The presence of something. +It drove from my mind all thought of escape. I sat stiff, straining my +vision in the darkness. + +Something here, moving soundlessly. Something touched me! Brushed me +gently. I shrank; my chair slid on the metallic floor with a grind. One +of my guards, even now alert, moved over and held me firmly. Rhana’s +voice said softly: + +“Did you see anything? Something is here. No, it is gone.” + +She illumined the room. It was so soft a light it did not bother my +eyes, even after the blank darkness. But I realized that for a moment +now it might dazzle the sensitive eyes of Rhana and these three men. +Her hand was shading her face. The man holding me had an arm against +his eyes. My chance had come. I stood up suddenly; knocked his weapon +from his hand, and my other fist caught him in the face. He fell +without a cry at my feet. + +Rhana shouted. I whirled away from her; launched myself at the other +two men who stood blinking in confusion. My body struck them full. +Under my weight they went down. One of their weapons was discharged--a +soundless stab of radiance. It missed me. + +In my rush I stumbled over one of the falling men. I went down with +him. He was far smaller, lighter than I, and his body seemed queerly, +unnaturally fragile. My fist cracked against his shoulder; broke it. +I caught his wrist. Gruesomely it snapped with my twist. I held his +weapon when I rose, a small, heavy thing of metal. But I did not know +how to fire it. I thrust it under the shirt of my suit. + +Rhana stood by the table; she made no move. The third man whom I had +flung down was up on one elbow. I saw his leveled weapon and leaped +aside. He was evidently hurt. He twisted around, but before he could +aim again, I seized a heavy metal chair and hurled it. He lay still, +with the chair partly on him. + +The way was open. I ran for the nearest window. A black metal grating +slid up in it; barring it. I turned away; ran for another. I was +confused now. Like an animal, caged, rushing one way and another and +finding always bars. The uproar was bringing people to the room. Men +and women were running in. + +I dashed at another window. But the bars came up before I got there. +And another. Two men and a woman were in my way. I scattered them. Some +one fired at me. I felt the tingle of the flash, but it missed. + +From the table Rhana was working a mechanism controlling the bars. The +windows were all closed now; a grating closed the roof doorway at the +head of the stairs. People were up there vainly trying to get in. + + * * * * * + +The place was in confusion. Shouts everywhere. They had spread to the +garden; a gathering throng out there. + +It was all a confusion of impressions to me. I made a dash at Rhana; +decided against it; turned and ran the other way. There seemed perhaps +twenty people in the room. Every instant I expected to be hit by that +stabbing flash. The main doorway was still open, and men were coming +in. I rushed at them and they scattered. There was another flash, which +stung my shoulder. A woman was leaping at me, swishing a chain; the +shot caught her and she went down. There was no more firing after that. + +In the doorway I was engulfed by half a dozen men who rushed me +at Rhana’s vehement command. I went through them; waded, kicking, +twisting, heaving them off, flinging them bodily away. + +I found myself in the entry room. The people in it scattered before me. +There were several flashes, but I was untouched. I went through the +room with a rush to find myself in a dark corridor. There was pursuit +behind me; I could hear the shouts. I ducked into a long, empty, dim +room, and went down its length at a full run. All its windows were +barred. One of the gratings slid up as I got there. + +Rhana was back at her table, I knew, barring every exit of the castle. +I ran on, through doorways, always dark corridors--an endless maze. I +was wholly lost. Occasionally I encountered a Gian, but none could stop +me. + +I found myself going down an incline; over a bridge up near a vaulted +ceiling. It was familiar. I stopped; panting for breath I stood in the +blackness clinging to the rail. An abyss was below me. I had shaken +off my followers. I was alone here. In the silence I heard what seemed +murmuring water far under me. + +Familiar. I had crossed this interior bridge, or one very like it, on +the way up from Arturo’s cell. I thought I could find my way back there +now. + +With recovered breath I started. Cautiously--now that I had escaped +pursuit, I wanted to avoid any one again finding me. Get down to +Arturo; if I could open his door from the corridor side, together we +would find some way out of this place. + +I moved along. Over the bridge. It was darker here now than when I had +been brought up. I felt my way along the stone passage. + +I rounded a corner. There was a small dim light. The passage was empty; +but I ran squarely into something solid--something invisible. It +gripped me. + + + + + CHAPTER XV. + + THE FIRE CALDRON. + + +Tad stood in the garden of the castle, with Nereid and her father. +Rhana was on the parapet, talking to the Middge crowd. Tad did not miss +Arturo and me; he assumed we were close behind him. His attention was +on Rhana. He knew her perhaps better than did any of us. When first he +had been brought here, with a vague memory that the freighter on which +he had been traveling was sinking, Rhana had taken him to the castle. +He had lived there for a time, and had taught her much that she knew of +our language. + +He listened now to her, but of her language he still understood only +occasional phrases. Entt joined him. + +“She says the Middge need not fear. She will show them a way of escape +from here. Or they can stay--” + +“How can they stay?” Tad whispered. “Those flood-gates will break in a +week or two at most.” + +“She says, no danger. Or, if they care to go, a passage upward.” + +“There isn’t any. Or if there is, Entt, the Middge can’t find it.” + +“It must be found,” said Nereid. “Not where she says--we cannot trust +her. We Middge must find it ourselves.” + +For a long time now the Middge had been secretly sending out exploring +parties, but so far without success. + +Fen interrupted impatiently: “We listen to her, not talk.” Rhana’s +speech went on. Then she stopped. At her final command the mob began +dispersing. Soon the garden was nearly empty. + +Bhool stood behind Tad. “Masters, we go?” + +Nereid had just suggested it. “My father, should we not go home? There +will be messengers there for you by now. You remember? We must go to +the meeting in the Caldron.” + +“Yes, you say right, child. There will be attack upon the gates. We +must try to get them closed.” + +Bhool insisted: “We go now, Masters. I go with you.” + +It was then they missed Arturo and me. Nereid said: “Arturo, we will +start now--” + +But he was not behind her. Tad saw her look around; saw her run a few +feet, gaze and then run back. He saw her face. It went suddenly blank. +And then fear sprang to it. She gave a timid little cry: “Arturo!” She +stood trembling and stricken. + +She knew then, or guessed, I am sure. She stood, with trembling intense +thoughts trying to reach us. But could not. + +They searched around the garden. They did not see the dark arch in +the wall into which we had been drawn; Tad thinks it was closed up, +presenting only stones. + +Bhool searched with them. He whined, “Masters, this is dangerous. If +she sees us here, punishment with the chains.” + +They decided we must have been separated from them, unable to find them +in the departing crowd. We would go home; they would find us there +waiting. + +But we were not there. Instead were three Middge couriers. They had +been there some time. Fen listened to them. His old face brightened. + +“Good news,” said Entt. “A passage upward has been found. At the +Caldron the meeting is called now. The weapons are not ready, but an +attack will be made.” + +“On the gate-house?” Tad demanded. + +“Yes.” + +Bhool was eagerly listening to what was being said. Tad shoved him out +of the way. + +“Fen, are you going to this meeting?” Tad asked. + +“Yes. Now.” He added in his own language: “Bhool, get ready the +_arras_. We will ride.” + +Bhool left reluctantly. But Nereid did not want to go. We might come +back here--she wanted to be here. But they would not let her stay. + +Tad left us a note. They would be back in a few hours--three or four +at most. Tad was worried over us. But he tried to persuade himself +that in a little while we would be in. The note did not say where they +had gone, some Gian might come upon it who could read it. He ended in +his whimsical fashion: “Go to sleep--it will do you good for what is +coming.” + +Nereid had said nothing. She sat in a shadowed corner. Her face was +solemn, fear-stricken. She sat thinking--calling intensely to us. We +were both unconscious at this time. She thought once she had reached +Arturo. She leaped to her feet; sank back. “No, it is nothing! He is +gone.” + +Bhool arrived at the street doorway with the _arras_. Sleek black +animals, large as a horse, with long narrow faces and bulging eyes. +They moved with a panther tread, soundless on padded feet. + + * * * * * + +The couriers were already gone. Bhool said: “I will carry her.” He +indicated Nereid. + +“You ride with me,” Tad declared, “if you go at all. I don’t see why +you should.” + +But the fellow seemed too frightened to stay in the house. Nereid +mounted behind her father. Entt rode alone. Tad put Bhool in front of +him on the broad saddle. + +Like giant leopards the three arras loped off down the narrow street. +They reached the open country, where the road was a waving gray ribbon +over the rocks. Occasionally they were challenged by Middge guards. +Then on again. + +A ride infernal. The glare grew. The air was steadily hotter, as +a sulphurous quality came to it. Down, as though into a legendary +inferno. The passage broadened. Its walls spread; its rocky, shaggy +ceiling lifted until Tad no longer could see it. + +Bhool whimpered: “I do not like it here.” But Tad did not answer. If +Tad had only known what was in that fellow’s mind! + +Ahead, the red glare now was solid. The passage was gone. They ascended +a gentle rising slope, came to the brink of a crest and stopped. + +The caldron of fire lay before them. + + * * * * * + +Tad had never been here before. He gazed, awe-struck. He was on the lip +of a huge circular caldron which lay perhaps a thousand feet beneath +this upper rim. A round, shallow bowl. The ceiling over it was too high +to be visible; behind the rim, rocky walls rose up into the black void. + +The whole area was a dull glare of red; but soon Tad’s eyes grew +accustomed to it, and he refused the glasses which Entt proffered. This +upper lip of the bowl was bent in a huge circle; it stretched in both +directions as far as Tad could see--a small segment of the whole--a +caldron here a hundred miles across, at least. + +There were boiling pits of red molten fire down there. One was quite +close--a mile or so away. It boiled sluggishly, a viscous mass in +a giant pot. Its surface bubbled; moved and crawled. Red, with a +purple-green sheen on it. + +A hundred such pits showed; the distance merged them into a solid red +glare. + +Far off, there seemed a lake of fire; a cloud of black gas hung over +it; rolled slowly upward, and away. + +The nearer jagged rocks here on the rim were painted with the lurid +red. It hung like a mist everywhere--a monstrous red shadow of it +slanted up into the void overhead. The heavy choking smell of sulphur +was in the air; a black coil of smoke was drifting up from one side, +slanting off on an air-current, a suction toward the further distance. + +A scene infernal. Slumbering forces. Restless. Stirring. Nature +infernal, here in leash. A slumbering giant down here, breathing +uneasily. + +And when, throwing off his bonds, the giant rose? Honeycomb passages, +breaking upward with his lungs! His surging breath--we at the surface +then would call this a volcano. Or if, still far underground, the +porous rock strata broke sidewise; shivered, trembled and broke--an +earthquake then, to dash a tidal wave against our coasts, to engulf our +islands--or with a trembling, quaking earth-surface, to bring down our +cities in ruins. + +This slumbering giant! + + + + + CHAPTER XVI. + + UNMASKING THE TRAITOR. + + +As Tad listened, standing on the caldron’s rim, he heard yet another +sound, unnatural and fearsome. It seemed to come through a rift in +the side wall here--a cañon rift slashed like a huge black gash. A +sound very far away, but gigantic; a dim, monstrous surge--the roar of +tumbling water! He turned. + +“Entt, what is that?” + +Nereid answered him. “The water coming through the flood-gates.” + +Ah, and when, backed up with its pressure, or breaking through the +walls, it reached here? + +There was human activity here--sights and sound and movement. On the +broad, nearer slope from this upper rim to the red level where the fire +began, stone buildings were set in terraces. It was the main industrial +village of the Middge. Great pipes led up, bringing the heat for power, +to the factories, not active now. They stood with windows dark, their +outlines edged with red. + +But there was one large building, a mile away, with rows of lights. +Figures moved about it, and the open rocky plateau beside it was busy +with human activity. + +This was the Middge scientific workshop. Nereid pointed it out. It was +the laboratory and arsenal where the Middge were now assembling their +equipment of war. + +There was a broad, mile-long ledge, near at hand on the downward slope. +It was thronged with Middge; several hundred young men seated in +orderly array, and nearly as many young girls, like Nereid, of flowing +robes and tawny hair. The pick of the youth of the Middge were here, +small, slender, white-skinned, come here to be told what to do. There +were older men moving around among them. + +Tad was drawn away. Middge leaders came up to greet Fen--small men +of middle age, alert, solemn. The party went down the slope, mingled +with the crowd on the ledge. The _arras_ were left at the summit, +half-blinded by the glare, chained to the rocks. + +Tad was there barely an hour. With inactivity came thoughts of Arturo +and me. He was increasingly worried--anxious to return. He sat +with Nereid. She, too, was frightened over us. She still could not +communicate with Arturo. + +The Middge meeting proceeded. Fen took no part in it, but Tad noticed +that many of the leaders conferred with him frequently. There were +speeches made to the assembled youth. Plans were told, immediately to +be put into execution. + +The plans of men! How easy to make them, earnestly looking ahead to +their fulfillment! How easy to look back, too late, and see the causes +of their frustration! + +There was one cause, here at Tad’s elbow--Bhool, eagerly listening. +Even then, it seemed to Tad strange that Bhool, a Gian, should be here. +The Gians were never curious over the Middge industrial activity. No +Gian ever came here. They bought or confiscated the Middge products, +content to have them, incurious of their manufacture. Apathetic, +ineffectual were the Gian men; and the ruling Gian women were +unconcerned over industrial details. But Bhool now was admitted--Fen’s +personal servant, nothing was thought of him. + +Plans. There was, in all the chaos, some good news. The exploring party +had returned. It had found a new tunnel-passage and followed it for +nearly three hundred miles, coming at last to rushing water in a chasm, +barring the way. But the scientists in the party had estimated their +position: above the floor of the ocean--within what we call a submerged +mountain, perhaps. This subterranean river would recede. It was of +different quality from ocean water. Its volume lessened while for a day +they waited. With the ocean draining, this river would empty. A way of +escape for the Middge people was here. + +A hundred couriers were now dispatched everywhere throughout the abyss. +Most of them were these active young girls, more expert riders of the +_arras_ than were the men. The Middge people, nearly a million of +them, would be started presently, most of them on foot. A march of a +few hundred miles--a migration upward to safety. + + * * * * * + +The leaders needed Entt at once. He was to go to the tunnel +entrance--two hours’ ride from here on his _arras_. He would stay +there for a time, helping to erect the light-beacons which were to +guide the Middge people in finding the entrance. He did not want to go; +he had hoped to stay with Nereid. He faced her, pathetically. At her +gentle smile he turned away, spoke to Tad, and left. A bustling group +of Middge leaders swallowed him up. + +Within a few days, it was believed, all the Middge public would have +departed. But the gates might break at any time. An attack now was to +be made upon them. It was hoped that perhaps the departing Gians had +already abandoned them. + +There were weapons for a small army here in the Middge arsenal, but +almost none were ready; all unassembled as yet, for this thing Rhana +had done had come too unexpectedly. The weapons--all this equipment for +war against the Gians--would be taken up through the passage, to be +assembled later. Unless the gates could be closed now, this realm down +here was doomed. The Middge would have to cast their lot above-- + +“But they may get the gates closed,” Tad exclaimed. + +“Then,” said Nereid, “the people will be turned back. We like it +here--you know that, Tad. Each to his own portion. The Creator intended +it.” + +Some of the weapons were brought up for Fen’s inspection. There was one +device which strangely interested Tad. Equipment complete now, for four +people. He gazed at it, listened to Nereid as she translated what the +scientists were telling Fen about it. + +Tad said suddenly, “Nereid, I want those. Can they spare them?” + +“What for, Tad?” + +“I don’t know.” He did not. It may have been a premonition, dawning, +unformed plans in his mind. But he knew he wanted this equipment--more +eagerly than he had ever wanted anything before. + +Nereid told her father. There was much discussion. The other men came +over; Tad pleaded earnestly. + +He got the equipment. He sat beside it, puzzling, wondering what had +prompted him to demand it. Bhool had gone a short distance away to +another part of the ledge to see what was going on there. He came back. +Tad concealed his possessions; he made Nereid sit with her robe over +them. He roughly, angrily ordered Bhool to keep away. That, too, was a +premonition. + +It seemed to the impatient Tad an endless time before they were ready +to start back. But it came at last. The Middge expedition was starting +now for the flood-gates. + +The ride back also seemed endless. Bhool was put with Fen; Nereid and +Tad, still with the equipment concealed, rode together. + +The open void of the main abyss held a confusion of activity now. The +roads were crowded with Middge--the beginning of the retreat. Every +house showed lights and hurried, panic-stricken movement. Overhead, an +occasional huge aëro of Gians would pass, flying for the City of the +Mound. + +Tad was hoping that we would be at Fen’s house. But we were not. The +note was there, untouched. Tad went to his room, and hid the equipment. +Bhool prepared food. Nereid was still trying to communicate with us. +At this time, probably, I was still unconscious, and she could not +reach Arturo with her thoughts. It may have been that his mind was too +absorbed with our plight--I cannot say. + +Fen had no plan to find us. But he said once, “They may be in the +Castle--if it is success--the gate attack--I will have young men try +to get in there--” + +Tad recalls that from the adjoining room where Bhool was working a +clang sounded as he dropped a metal platter. + + * * * * * + +They ate a brief meal. They were all exhausted. They would sleep for a +few hours. Messengers would come to report the fate of the gate-house +attack. If it failed, then Nereid would get together a few belongings. +They would leave for the tunnel, join Entt and start upward, with +hundreds of thousands of others, fleeing this doomed realm. + +Nereid had other plans. She did not know just what, but she knew she +would not leave Arturo. But she said nothing, nor did Tad. He was still +puzzling, groping with half-formed ideas. + +The house quieted. Tad was alone in his room. He lay down, trying to +plan. It was coming to him. It was feasible. With this equipment he +could get into the Castle. But how could he find us? How know even that +we were there at all? + +He would need Nereid. Let her sleep now for a few hours. And he needed +the rest himself. He did not intend to sleep, but he drifted off, still +vaguely planning. + +Tad awakened suddenly, wide awake at once, with his mind clear. And +like an inspiration he had the answer; as though in his sleep it had +come to him, waking him up. That accursed Bhool! Tad saw it all now, +clearly; the wonder of it was that he had not seen it before. Bhool +in the garden--he had stayed always by me, edged me along. Rhana +would want to see me; Bhool had displayed a great interest in me. Tad +recalled a dozen suspicious things in Bhool’s actions. And in the +garden, when we had disappeared, Tad remembered now that Bhool was for +a few moments missing also. And the fellow dropped a platter when he +heard Fen say that we were probably in the Castle. Tad had gone into +the kitchen and found Bhool in confusion. + +It came like an inspiration. Bhool knew where we were. Well, if he did, +Tad now proposed to get it out of him. + +Tad crept from his room. The house was silent; Nereid and Fen were +asleep. He went to Bhool’s room. It was empty. But in a moment there +was a step. Bhool came along the passage from the street door. He had +in reality just been to the Castle, finding his opportunity now with +the household asleep. He had seen us in our cell. Had told Rhana of the +coming attack by the Middge on the gate-house; and she had sent him +back to get further information. + +Tad saw him coming along the passage, smirking to himself, satisfied +with his accomplishment. No craven, cringing air about him when he was +alone! That was a pose. But Tad leaped out upon him; jerked him roughly +into the room. The cringing came to him; but it was not a pose this +time--he was frightened, gray-white of face, chattering. + +“M-master--what is it?” + + * * * * * + +Tad twisted him. “What became of Arturo and the big man, his friend?” + +“M-master--” + +“Tell me, you damned hangar-rat.” + +“Master--I don’t know--what you talk--” He chattered off into his own +language. + +“Stop that! Talk English! Stand up here. I’m not hurting you!” + +But Bhool’s knees gave away. He groveled at Tad’s feet. + +“I want to know what you did with them. Where are they?” + +“Them? Who?” + +Tad shook him. + +“M-master, you hurt--” + +“Do I? Where are they? Where is Arturo?” + +“I don’t know.” He took the cuff of Tad’s hand on his face, cringing, +but he mumbled, “I cannot tell--I know nothing--” + +It was possible he did not, but Tad wasn’t taking any chances. + +“M-master! Oh, master--you hurt--” + +“Stop your screaming! If you wake any one up I’ll kill you! Talk!” + +It was exasperating. + +“M-master--my wrist--it will break--” + +Tad eased his twisting. “Will you talk?” + +“N-no--oh, master!” + +It brought Tad a sense of physical nausea, the fellow was so helpless, +fragile--his wrist would crack. But Tad gritted his teeth and twisted. + +“Tell me, damn you!” + +“Master! Stop--” He screamed, “I’ll tell you! Oh--stop!” + +Tad relaxed. And Bhool told; with a burst, half incoherent he told it +all. + +“But if she knows. Master, if she knows, she will kill me!” + +“I don’t care what she does to you.” Tad straightened, triumphant. That +cell in which we were imprisoned--he could locate it. He had lived in +the Castle, and knew its interior well. + +“Stand up, you!” He jerked Bhool to his feet, dragged him out, then +woke up Fen and Nereid, and told them. + +“Here, you take him.” + +Fen was still confused. “But, Tad--tell me more of this. What did he--” + +Tad told them it all. “Cursed traitor! By the code, he’s done enough +damage.” + +They barred him in a small windowless room. Tad explained his purpose. +“Will you try it, Nereid?” + +“Oh--” She was speechless with her eagerness. + +They left Fen to guard Bhool. “We can do it in an hour,” said Tad. +“We’ll be back, with Jeff and Arturo!” + +They went to Tad’s room. Both of them trembling with the haste and +excitement of it, they got out the equipment they had brought from the +fire caldron. Within ten minutes they slipped like shadows from the +house. + + + + + CHAPTER XVII. + + PROWLING SHADOWS. + + +Tad and Nereid had found the apparatus easy to adjust. They tested it +before they left Tad’s room; it seemed to work perfectly. It consisted +of a long robe of fabric, light as gossamer, dull, dead black. There +were four of these robes. Nereid took the smallest. It enveloped her +from head to foot; it swept the ground; its sleeves ended in black +gloves; its hood covered her head. There was a mask-like flap for her +face; small, transparent black panes for eyes; a clip against her +nostrils to hold a breathing valve in place. + +“All right, Nereid?” + +“Yes.” + +Around her waist Tad adjusted a narrow black belt. It was a rope of +interlaced, tiny black wires. A black curved box like a battery was +fastened to the belt. Light in weight--all dead black. There were a +dozen dangling black wires. Tad connected them at her shoulders, along +her arms to the waist, down to the hem of the robe, and up to the +crest of the hood. She stood, in the dim light of Tad’s room, a black +grotesque blob of shape against the wall. Fantastic, hooded little +figure merging with the shadows. But she was plainly to be seen--the +outlines of her, blotting out the table and the wall behind her. An +inky silhouette. + +[Illustration: _The fantastic hooded figure began merging with the +shadows._] + +She said: “I’ll turn it on.” Her gloved hand fumbled with the battery. +The current went into the robe. It glowed luminous for a moment. The +shape of her was there, shimmering like a silver ghost. Misty--a fog +dissolving--gone! The table and the wall behind her showed clearly; +there was nothing to be seen in front of them. + +It was uncanny. Tad said sharply: “Nereid, you all right?” + +“Yes, Tad.” + +Her voice, calm, from the empty air. Tad reached out his hand and, +fumbling, came upon her. The robe was vaguely vibrating. + +“It works, Nereid! I can’t see you! Stand back, close against the wall.” + +He could faintly make out the distorted blur of her shape as she backed +nearer the table and wall; the table outlines were distorted; the wall +seemed to have a shadow on it. + +“That’s too close, Nereid. We must remember that--keep away from +things.” + +There is one of these robes now in the Anglo-American Museum of +Science, in London. Apparently it cannot be duplicated. But the +fundamental principle of its operation is simple. The electrification +of the fabric--vibrations of an unknown current akin to what we call +electricity--set up in the air surrounding the robe, a magnetic field. +As Nereid stood in the center of Tad’s room, the light rays from the +table and wall behind her were bent around this magnetic field so that +their image was carried unbroken to Tad’s sight. It was only when she +stood too close to the wall that its light rays were blocked by the +solidity of her. + +The robe itself reflected no light rays. The color we call black is no +color at all, but merely the absence of all colors--black, because it +absorbs almost all the color-bearing light rays which strike it. There +is, however, generally a glint, high lights and shadows. But this robe, +with the current into it, reflected no light rays, no tiny glint from +its folds. + +And with these two principles, for practical purposes it was invisible. +Nothing really eerie or uncanny. Solid science, strange but rational. +The bending of light rays for a century has been observed and +understood by our astronomers. Our sun itself has a similar magnetic +field about it, bending the light rays from the distant stars which in +reality are behind the sun, but seem to be off to one side. + +Tad was triumphant. Nereid helped him adjust his robe. He carried under +it two others--for Arturo and me--carefully folded and tied around his +body. + +Nereid was a little doubtful and cautious. “We must remember what they +told my father--in the real darkness we Middge, and the Gians, are +keener of vision for very close objects.” + +They were both standing with the current turned on. Nereid put out a +tentative hand. “Even in this light I can--I almost think I see you, +Tad.” + + * * * * * + +They started from the house, invisible shadows, walking quietly, hand +in hand not to lose each other. The streets were in a confusion of +excitement. Middge couriers had aroused the people to the necessity of +leaving. The houses showed bustling, frantic activity. Middge families, +with household treasures piled on their _arras_, were starting for +the open country. The beginning of the flight. Men, women and children, +with impedimenta that very soon would be discarded, plodding away. +A long line of them, assembled in an open, parklike space, started +marching off. There was another street, up which a line of Gians was +headed for the fortress garden. The Middge avoided them. The Gians, +intent upon their own activities, took no notice of any one. + +Through it all Tad and Nereid moved unseen. There was no danger, save +for a chance collision. They came to the garden. The lower windows +of the Castle were barred; the upper ones were open. The garden was +bustling with activity. A huge aërocar was being loaded. + +Tad whispered: “The main door is open. That’s the best way in.” + +Gians were passing in and out. Tad and Nereid cautiously mounted the +steps. They kept near the edge. At the top a man suddenly came out; he +nearly ran into them. Tad pulled Nereid hastily aside; they stood at +the doorway, pressed against the wall. Tad clung to her; he could not +see his outstretched arm; nor her. He whispered: + +“Careful, Nereid; he nearly hit us.” + +In the doorway a group of Gian women were talking. One of them looked +squarely at Tad. His heart leaped; but she idly looked away. + +Nereid whispered: “Wait just a moment--I can hear them--” + +They were talking of the Middge attack upon the gate-house. Gians had +been sent to repulse it. That accursed Bhool! + +One of the women spoke softly to her companions; abruptly they were all +looking toward Tad and Nereid. Too close to the wall! He realized it. +The women saw something--puzzling shadows. + +“Nereid! Move!” + +They moved soundlessly into the doorway. The women went on talking. +Clinging together, the two slipped past. + +They were in the Castle. A dim entryway. It was thronged with people. +Nereid was frightened. It was difficult to avoid being run into--and to +avoid getting too near anything. + +“This way,” Tad whispered. He drew her toward a side corridor. In a few +minutes they would reach our cell. + +Abruptly Nereid stopped. + +“What is it?” he whispered. + +“Wait! Listen--” + +He heard nothing but the babble of Gian voices. But Nereid’s hearing +was keener. + +“Jeff,” she whispered. “I hear his voice.” + + * * * * * + +She led Tad across the room; they threaded their way, infinitely +dangerous. They came to a broad doorway, its door ajar. They did not +dare open it. They waited, crouching aside from the passing people. The +door opened presently; a woman looked in for a moment. + +“Nereid--now!” + +They slid through the doorway. Tad saw me sitting beside Rhana, with +three men guards standing over me! + +There was no one else in the room. Tad and Nereid found a place to +crouch. They listened to our talk, waited, hoping to find a way to get +at me and help me escape. A sudden rush at these guards-- + +Tad had brought Nereid because if blank darkness were encountered in +the Castle corridors underground, Nereid would be able to guide him. +He was sorry now that he had brought her. Had he been alone--a leap on +these guards; he and I fighting our way out-- + +But Arturo? Where was Arturo, since I was not in the cell, but up here? + +Nereid, crouching silently, reached me with her thoughts, but she must +have reached Rhana also. Nereid, intently thinking, had crept forward +close to the table; Tad still clung to her. Rhana suddenly put out the +lights. Tad was confused. He decided to make a sudden rush for me. He +even brushed me with his robe, but Nereid pulled him away. Her mind, +her whole heart now, instinctively was for Arturo. + +And Tad agreed it was better. My thoughts had given Nereid the +information she sought. + +She and Tad moved swiftly for the door. It was partly open now; they +slid through. They would get Arturo and come back for me. + +In the dark corridors they moved more freely. They crossed the bridge, +went down the incline, came to Arturo’s cell. The route was what my +thoughts of it had given them, for this was not the cell Bhool had +described. Even in that he had lied to Tad. + +The cell door could be opened from the corridor side. They found +Arturo, and robed him like themselves. + +They were ready. Nereid stood listening. From overhead came muffled +sounds, cries, running feet. + +They left the cell and crept back along the corridor. Tad was leading. +At a sharp corner he ran full into me! + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII. + + NEREID’S STRATEGY. + + +Four of us now, shadowed prowlers. It had taken them only a moment to +get me into the robe and adjust its connections. Strange experience! +I felt the tiny vibrations of the robe; it tingled my flesh. Through +the dark panes of the goggles I could barely see the outlines of the +dim corridor; but in a moment they seemed clearer. Empty corridor! It +was so strange to hear the voices of others beside me--and yet not +see them. To stretch out my hand, yet not see my arm. To touch, in a +lighted corridor, something unseen. + +“Who is that?” + +“It’s Tad--let go of me!” + +As if in blank darkness, fumbling, he started. It was difficult for so +many of us to keep together, so we went in pairs, Arturo and Nereid +went ahead. Tad and I momentarily lost them. We came to the bridge and +stopped. + +“Where are they, Tad?” + +They had agreed to wait here for us. We had passed no Gians as yet; +there were none in sight here. Tad spoke softly: + +“Arturo?” + +Arturo’s voice answered: “Yes--here--” + +Nereid lifted the robe a trifle at her neck; a vague sheen of light was +here now; I saw the patch of her skin, hovering in mid-air above the +bridge rail ten feet away. + +We joined them. I recalled that Rhana had closed every Castle door and +window. In the silence under the bridge the running water sounded. I +whispered: + +“Could we get down there, Tad? Get out this way?” + +“No.” + +Nereid’s voice: “Only the dead, killed by Rhana, have gone down there.” + +We decided to try to locate an upper window that might be open. Nereid +thought she could leap with safety that far; she was not sure. + +We were soon among the Gians. The Castle was in a turmoil over my +escape. And presently from the lower passages we heard shouts; Arturo’s +escape had been discovered. + +We passed through many rooms. All the windows were barred. With all our +strength we could not move them. + +A dozen times we were nearly discovered. The Castle was being ransacked +for Arturo and me. + +We were passing through a small room. A Gian man came running from +behind us. We did not hear him in time, and he ran solidly into us, and +fell, shouting an alarm. Tad leaped on him. + +I heard the gruesome splintering crack as Tad wrenched at his neck. The +cries were silenced; Tad was shuddering as he rose. + +Other Gians came running, but we avoided them easily. We came to the +front main doorway, but found it closed. Gian women were on both sides +of it, excitedly talking through the bars. + +We were trapped. There was no way out. I told them how Rhana had stood +at her table, closing the windows and doors. We decided to go there. + +We got into the room. A dozen women were there; Rhana sat by the table. +Nereid’s voice said, at my ear: + +“If we could get to the roof, Jeff, a ladder at the farther end leads +to the ground.” + +But how could we get to the roof? From where we crouched I could see +the steps leading upward--a seven-foot flight of stairs, but there was +a grating, barring the top. The stairs were empty at the moment. And +the roof up there seemed empty. + + * * * * * + +Freedom, beyond that grating. But how get past it? Rhana sat like a +cool gray statue at the table; her hand rested beside the mechanism. +Occasionally she would speak to one of the women, or issue some command. + +Tad’s voice came: “We’ll creep over there, get up to her, make her open +it. By Tophet, I’ll make her!” + +But if she did not do it at once, her cries would bring the whole +Castle upon us. And even with momentary control of the mechanism, we +did not know how to operate it for ourselves. + +“Let’s kill her and have done with it,” Tad whispered. But that would +not get us to the flood-gates. + +Nereid’s voice whispered: “I have a plan. I can talk like a woman of +the Gians--let me try.” + +We crept across the room, up the empty staircase. At the top, near the +grating, we paused. My heart was beating fast. It might work, or within +an instant we might be discovered. + +Tad murmured: “They’ll see us here against the stairs.” + +But Nereid tried it. Her voice rang out, startlingly loud in the +silence up here at the top of the stairs. She spoke in her own +language, imitating the Gian accent: + +“Let me in, please!” + +Rhana looked up, startled. Every woman in the room was staring at us. + +“Let me in, please!” + +Would they see us? They might have noticed the blur of us against the +stairs near the top. But they did not. They were puzzled. Rhana spoke: + +“Where are you?” + +“Here, on the roof. Open, please, for an instant--you will want to hear +my news.” + +The bars slid aside. We jammed our way out before they were fairly +open. Freedom! + +Rhana called, puzzled: “Come down then. Hurry!” + +Some imp within Nereid must have prompted her. She called back sweetly: + +“Thanks. You may close it now!” + +We dashed across the empty roof, down the ladder, and safely threaded +the turmoil of the garden, plunging into the dark city streets. + + * * * * * + +“Why, there is Entt!” + +Nereid saw him. We were almost to Fen’s home. The street chanced to +be deserted. Entt rounded a corner, riding his _arras_. We were +visible now; there seemed no Gians in this part of the city; we had +cut the current from our robes and thrown back the hoods for greater +comfort. + +“Oh, Entt!” + +He pulled up and we crowded around him explaining what had happened. He +was pleased; he smiled as he shook my hand. But he was very solemn. + +Arturo and I were told by Tad where Entt had been. Arturo said: + +“Are the people getting away safely?” + +He nodded. The first of them were past the tunnel-entrance; many were +well on their way. But a million people could not be started on a +march like that at once. It would take several days before they were +all away. Much confusion had been reported. From the opposite surface +across the abyss the Middge were being brought in aëros. But there +was a shortage of cars. Many families were starting to march around, +following the surface curve. It would take them too long; when cars +were available, these Middge would have to be rounded up and brought +across. + +Entt was increasingly solemn. Nereid demanded: “What is it? Something +is wrong?” + +The Middge attack upon the gate-house had been defeated! The expedition +had got close up to the gates. The place seemed abandoned by the Gians. +And then an armed aëro had arrived from the City of the Mound. The +Middge were caught by surprise by the counterattack. An utter rout; +there were no more than twenty of the Middge band alive to struggle +back to the tunnel, and the Gians remained in possession of the gates. + +“Disaster,” said Entt. “There is nothing for any of us but to escape.” + +“But there is!” I exclaimed. I outlined my plan. With these invisible +suits two or three of us could get into the gate-house, even though it +was held by the Gians. A desperate venture--suicide possibly. But if, +before they found and killed us, we could get the huge gates closed and +demolish the mechanism, it would be worth it. + +Entt’s eyes flashed. “I think I understand that mechanism. I will go +with you.” + +I still held the small weapon I had seized from my Gian guard in +Rhana’s Castle room. It had been of no use to us in the Castle, since +none of us knew how to fire it. The weapons of the Gians in this realm +had been very closely held. Nereid had never even had such a weapon in +her hand before. But Entt knew how to use it. He would show me. At the +gate-house it would be of service. + +We started again for Fen’s home, walking, with Entt on the _arras_ +beside us. My plan was to leave Nereid with her father. They would get +together what belongings they wanted and start for the tunnel and wait +there at the entrance for the success or failure of our venture. If we +were still alive, we would join them there. + +We were three minutes, no more, reaching the house. My mind roved what +lay ahead: The horrors here in this dark abyss, unseen by our great +world spreading above. These escaping Gians--forty or fifty thousand of +them, with all their equipment of war, passing upward through the locks +into our falling ocean. This harried Middge people, unarmed, in panic, +a million of them fleeing their doomed realm, marching desperately +into a tunnel that might lead them to safety. + +That titanic surge of water, off there in the neighboring abyss of the +monsters--coming down to mingle with the slumbering fires of the earth. +Vast horrors impended for our upper world. + +But the human mind individualizes. I chiefly felt, and considered, the +personal danger to this little band of friends with whom my interest +lay. And as we approached the silent doorway of Fen’s home, the sense +of impending tragedy--crowning horror--was strong upon me. + +We entered. Nereid called: “Father--my father--we have come.” + +I heard Tad mutter: “I hope he’s kept that fellow Bhool locked up.” + +We passed the silent rooms. “Father--father!” + +A fear was creeping into Nereid’s voice. We hastened, bursting into the +main apartment. + +Crowning horror! + +The closet into which Bhool had been thrust and locked, stood open. +There was food upon the table in the room. On the floor in a huddled +heap lay old Fen. Gruesome, a red stain against his neck, a small, +spreading pool of crimson on the floor; a broad knife-blade, bathed in +crimson, lying here discarded by the murderer. + +We stood stricken, staring, gasping. And then little Nereid flung +herself down. + + * * * * * + +He lived to open his eyes and see us. He seemed to recognize us. Arturo +knelt with Nereid. + +“Oh, Fen, what did you do? Where is Bhool? Did you let him out?” + +Fen’s words were faint. “Yes--he--was hungry--and then--he killed me.” + +A kindly act at the last, and the reward was death! Life can be so +tragic, so cruel! + +Fen lay very still, with eyes closed. But in a moment he opened +them. He tried to focus them on Arturo. “You--will guard--my little +daughter--” + +He drew Nereid’s head down to him. He seemed to sigh; and then he lay +unbreathing. There was no sound but Nereid’s sobbing. + +Arturo stood before me. “I want to go with you, Jeff. You know that!” + +“Yes. I know it.” I smiled into his earnest, sorrowful eyes. “But three +of us will be enough, Arturo. And Nereid needs you.” + +“I just wanted you to know I ought to go with you.” + +He turned away. We three were ready. Entt was equipped with his black +robe. I carried my weapon. He had shown me how to advance the charge +from its storage battery to the firing chamber; and how to fire it. An +oblong thing of black metal the size of my hand, it discharged a stab +of radiance with an effective range of perhaps a hundred feet. Or at +fifty, with an altered form of its vibration, the radiance, like an +electro-magnet, would seize an object, grip it, hold it. + +“Is our _arras_ ready, Entt?” + +“Yes.” + +We had one giant _arras_ which could carry all three of us. There +was a small aërocar available at the tunnel-mouth--the tunnel into +which the Middge people were retreating. Entt had left the aëro there. + +Tad demanded: “You’re sure it will be there?” + +“Yes. It is hidden as I told you.” + +I stood again with Arturo. “You take Nereid and three _arras_, +Arturo.” + +“Yes, Jeff.” He was docile now. No more forcing of his own ideas. +“We’ll load one with our things, lead one, and ride the third.” + +“Exactly. And wait at the tunnel-entrance. You’ll find our _arras_ +there, where the aëro is now. Wait there, Arturo--we’ll join you if +we can. But not too long. Understand? If you know that the gates have +broken and we have failed, ride on. Will you?” + +He nodded. His eyes were full. “I may not see you again, Jeff. +Good-by.” + +I clapped his shoulder. “Good-by, Arturo. Good-by, Nereid.” + +We left them standing together gazing after us. + + * * * * * + +To any one who cared to look, our giant _arras_ was loping through +the gloom unmounted. We clung to its long saddle, Entt in front, +guiding it. We went in great bounding leaps, over the river-bridge, +with the hot wind rushing past us. Tad’s solid body before me was a +vague black blur, and I could not see Entt at all. We took the road Tad +had already traversed toward the fire caldron, but we soon swung aside. + +We came at last to the tunnel-entrance. Activity here. Twin +light-beacons mounted on the rocks marked it for the arriving Middge +people. They were coming in groups; a throng of them surged in +confusion at the broad entrance, passing the guards, starting on their +long upward march. + +We avoided attracting attention. No one heeded our wandering, seemingly +unmounted _arras_. We found, beside one of the rocky walls of the +entrance, the small cavelike recess where Entt had left his aërocar, +and here we chained the _arras_. + +In my heart was a prayer that within a few hours we would be safely +back, with the flood-gates closed, and find Arturo and Nereid here +waiting for us. + +Tad was hopeful of it. “Those Gians won’t stay in the gate-house. Why +would they? The Middge attacked--they couldn’t figure it would be +anything but a last attempt, and they’ve defeated it. To stay there, +with the gates likely to break any moment, that would be crazy!” + +“The Gians are nearly all departed now,” Entt agreed. “Our watchers say +the last of them from this surface and the other are started for the +locks.” + +“And if,” Tad added, “Rhana did leave a few to guard the gates, they’d +desert--wouldn’t wait there for the flood to kill them. They’re all +cowards anyhow, unless they’ve got weapons and you haven’t. Don’t +worry, we’ll find the whole place deserted. It’s exactly the time to +strike at it now, at the last minute!” + +It seemed logical reasoning. I could only hope it might prove true. + +We climbed to the aërocar, where it rested on a rock ledge. It was no +more than ten feet long--a narrow strip of gleaming metal. With the +currents out of our robes, and hoods flung back, we lay upon the car. +Entt was at the controls. + +The car slowly lifted. We slid silently from the recess. The arriving +Middge stared up at us. A guard up on the beacon platform challenged +us. Entt called a signal, and he relaxed. + +We rose and sped forward, gathering speed as we rushed into the +darkness. Underneath I could see a long line of the arriving Middge +families; but we soon were past them. + +Flying low. Presently there were no houses, no signs of human life. A +rocky, barren surface; sometimes a black area of squat forest trees; +to the right I made out the outlines of a rocky wall which we were +following. Then we turned toward it, into a mile-wide passage. We +seemed nearly always ascending; but of that I could not be sure. + +The glaring white beacons along here, placed to blind and turn back +the monsters, had been extinguished and broken by the Gians. It was a +dark, sinister passage, turning, rising, dipping; narrowing almost to a +small tunnel; or again opening into a great rocky amphitheater, with an +extent I could not estimate. + +Half an hour’s flight. Tad and I saw almost nothing; but to Entt the +way was clear. + +I became aware that the air had changed. A fetid quality had come to +it. The passage ceiling had lifted. We were beyond the confines of the +connecting passage. The abyss of the monsters lay before us! + + + + + CHAPTER XIX. + + WITHIN THE GATE-HOUSE. + + +I could see still less now; and it was doubtless my very limitation of +vision which added to the sense of fear and awe that surged at me. An +abyss here, dark and soundless, the air was heavy, motionless, save +as it moved past us with our forward flight. Air that now was foul as +though heavy with the hot breath of the unseen monsters. + +There was no visible ceiling, no walls. But, as though my pupils were +expanding in this greater darkness, I saw presently a black surface +beneath us; and in another moment saw that we were flying barely a +hundred feet above it. + +A level spread of silent water. There may have been a black luminosity +to it; a phosphorescence, black, yet visible. I seemed, after another +interval, to be staring over a great distance. + +A silent sea lay spread here under us. A vast area of water lying +here like a great black shroud. A scum seemed on its dead, unriffled +surface. A silent sea, yet it breathed with a slow rise and fall, as +though with labored breath it lay dying. A world apart. + +I had thought our turgid ocean depths fearsome. But here was a new +quality--a dark foul sullenness--this silent sea aloof, remote here in +the bowels of our earth. I shuddered as I stared, for it seemed to me +suddenly that only the dead should gaze upon such a place as this. + +And yet I knew that there were living things here. Creatures alive, but +only in that one thing akin to living humans. Monsters lurked here, +foul spawn of things unnameable, of form and manner and horror beyond +all conception of the human mind. + +I looked away at last. + +This soundless abyss! But presently I began to hear a murmur; a surge; +a roar. The water roaring at the flood-gates. And soon I saw that there +was no longer water beneath us; a naked black rock surface. + +Entt whispered suddenly. “Look--out there!” + +Far away I saw a dull-red point of light. No! It was not far; a few +hundred feet--a dull-red smoldering torch. It moved. A black shapeless +blur seemed with it. A living creature slithering away on the rock +surface? Formless, soundless: I was grateful for the concealing +darkness. There are things which it is not good for human eyes to +see--things that mark the mind with horror. + +I did not want to see it, yet I stared. And with imagination beyond +curbing, I futilely tried to supply a head out there on the black +rocks, or a giant black body, or legs and a tail. They are all words +with meaning to our human mind. But this was none of those. My +imagination was blessedly futile! + +For this thing, though perhaps it was partially visible, was beyond my +conception. The eye--was it an eye? Or a fiery breath, congealed in the +air? Or a heart--the essence of the thing’s being--nakedly visible? +The red glow mercifully vanished, with only a dim radiance remaining, +lingering like an infernal wraith of something which had been there and +now was gone. + +We flew onward. The sound of the rushing water was monstrous ahead of +us. + +Entt said: “We will land here. If there are Gians, they must not see us +coming.” + +We left the aëro in a recess at the summit of a small rise. Invisible +again, we started forward on foot. What revulsion I had felt, flying in +the air and gazing down to where monsters might lurk in the darkness, +was intensified now. Here on the rocks, walking, seeing nothing, +hearing only that monstrous torrent ahead, I felt my flesh creeping +with horror. Why, any moment something unspeakable, lurking here, might +spring upon us. + + * * * * * + +“Keep hold of me, both of you,” Entt whispered. + +Silent shadows, we walked swiftly. The ground was rough, broken now +into great crags among which we climbed, steadily ascending. + +There was light ahead--a milk-white glow, faint as star-dust. And a +jagged black wall, clifflike, rising into the void beyond my vision. + +A few minutes of climbing, and the roar grew. It beat upon me +deafeningly. It seemed for a moment to engulf all my senses. A titan +roaring--this torrent of water. An infuriated titan--yet still in +leash. The milk-white radiance broadened; beside us the rock wall now +was close. + +Entt stopped us. We stood at the summit of the rise up which we had +come. Entt spoke, shouting at us now, for the blare of dashing water +tore at his words and flung them away. + +“There is the gate-house. I think there are no Gians here.” + +We followed his gestures with our gaze. I stood peering, holding my +weapon in my hand. + +From here a path led down the rocks to the right. A hundred feet away +down there the cliff wall rose sheer, smooth and black. The path, from +where we were standing, went down the declivity and came to a small +door, a gateway in an artificial wall. + +Beyond it, looking down upon the wall from this greater height, I could +see a small inner courtyard, with the wall inclosing it, and another +door. Beyond that, a narrow, precipitous flight of metal stairs, with +a wall around the bottom of them, led upward a hundred feet. Up there, +perched like some aerie against the cliff-face, was a small black +building, the gate-house. It hung there, with a dim oval of radiance +from within marking its window. + +Tad shouted at my ear: “If those courtyard doors are open--Or we might +climb the walls.” + +Those courtyard walls seemed no more than ten feet high. No Gians were +here, and the whole place appeared deserted. + +“Wait a moment,” Entt cautioned. “If there is any one here, we’ll see +movement.” + +The little metal house up there on its perch seemed unoccupied. Its +door was ajar, showing a slit of light, and the window on this side +was open. The room within was lighted. Was any one there? We waited, +closely watching, for any shadow of movement. + +My attention wandered to the vaster scene spread before us. The +milk-white radiance illumined the distance. Beyond the path and the +small courtyards there was a sudden drop, a thousand feet perhaps--a +void here, all at that lower level. The cliff wall, to which the +gate-house clung, went down that thousand feet--and up out of sight +overhead. And stretched off in the milky distance. Smooth, black and +sheer. + +But there were lines marking it into great rectangles; giant blocks +of metal out of which it was built. Not a cliff, but a titanic dam! I +could see only this end of it--twenty miles of it possibly. At about +the level of the gate-house, the water was surging through it, in a +tremendous horizontal gash. It stretched off and lost itself in the +blur of distance. And through the gash the wall of water was arching +out and falling a thousand feet. + +Uncounted Niagaras! A million? I could fancy so. A million Niagaras, +piled one upon the other for a thousand feet of height; laid end to +end for hundreds of miles. An utterly inconceivable torrent, falling a +thousand feet into a white sea of foam down below--a boiling, lashing +sea hundreds of miles wide, leaping and tumbling away into other +cañons. White-lashed water, catching what little light was here, +reflecting it as a milky radiance. + +There was wind here, its roar mingling with the greater roar unnoticed. +Wind whirling and plucking at us. Spray, even up here. Giant spirals +of upflung mist. The salt tang of the sea-spume whipped and sucked and +flung by the wind. + + * * * * * + +We stood only a moment. No Gians were here. Why would there be? This +water could not surge through that wall for very long without tearing +it away. Inconceivable torrent! But it was a mere slit in the wall--the +dribble of a child’s spillway on the shore of a sea. Our great oceans +were up there--pressing to get down. What Gian would stay here on +guard, with all his fellows escaping to safety? + +We crept cautiously down the path. The wind whirled us; the spray, +suddenly leaping in some chance gust, drenched us. I clung to Tad. Entt +I could not see. I felt a sudden mild electric shock from Tad’s robe. +He cried out involuntarily; became visible so that I saw him beside me. +His hands tore at his hood; his startled white face appeared. + +Then he grinned. “Ruined! It’s off, Jeff. You can see me, can’t you?” + +The water had evidently short-circuited his robe. And in a moment mine +went the same. + +Entt cut out his current. We flung back our hoods and took off our +gloves. The freedom of it was pleasant, but we were no longer invisible. + +“What of it?” said Tad. “There isn’t any one here.” + +We came to the low door in the first wall. It opened to our touch. The +courtyard was empty. + +I clutched my weapon, with its lever adjusted to give the stabbing +flash. It seemed to aim readily, very much like an automatic. There was +a reassuring security in the feel of it. At a hundred feet I could +drill any one we might come upon. + +There were inner doors to rooms in this courtyard wall. We crept upon +them one by one; flung them open, tense to meet what might be within. +All were empty. Small empty rooms, with evidence of the Gian garrison +here hastily departed. + +We passed the inner wall door. No one here. We climbed the long metal +ladder up the cliff-face to the gate-house. + +I led, with Tad next. “Easy, Jeff! Hang on--don’t get dizzy. By the +infernal, what a place!” + +The ladder seemed to sway under us. In spite of all my flying +experience, I found myself clinging, with senses whirling for a moment. +It seemed that ladder was a spider web hanging over the chaos of water. +The white turmoil of spume engulfed us. + +A slow, patient climb. We stood at last on a small metal grid, the +platform at the top of the ladder. The gate-house door was ajar. + +Tad gripped me as we braced ourselves in the wind. “You’ve kept the +projector dry?” + +“Yes.” I had shielded it with a fold of my robe. + +He gestured. “I’ll shove the door, Jeff. We’ll rush in together. Get +back, Entt. Ready, Jeff?” + +“No! Stoop here, on one side. I’ll kick it open. We’ll wait and see--” + +With my foot I swung the door inward. We crouched to one side. Nothing +came out, nor was there any sign of movement in there. Weapon ready, I +advanced to where I could see all the room. A square metal apartment of +perhaps twenty feet, it seemed to occupy the entire little house. One +window was here beside the door, another window faced the maelstrom of +the dam. A bunk, a few pieces of furniture. + +A table near the farther window held a square metal tablet, no larger +than my chest. The dim interior light shone on it; switches and wires; +dials; a glowing bowl of radiance, like the fluorescence of an atomic +tube. The gate mechanism! + +My heart pounded as I gazed at it. This little thing--diabolical! But +Entt knew how to operate it. A minute now and we would start it closing +the great gates. + +We advanced into the room, cautiously, then with a rush. I whirled with +my weapon ready. Tad stood alert, tense, his eyes roving every corner. +Entt dashed for the mechanism, and hastily seated himself at the table. + + * * * * * + +There was a movement behind me! In the outer doorway stood Rhana! She +flung off a long, wet cloak. “So? You did come?” She advanced a step +and then leaped for Entt. + +A panther’s leap! I met it with the stabbing light of my weapon; +caught the sheathlike shield of her body; struck her full. There was a +flare--a wave of vibration came surging back at me. + +She was unharmed. A glow was around her; it streamed like a mantle +down from her headdress. Her leap carried her to Entt. He rose up, was +caught half turning. And then he crumpled, slumped and fell at her feet. + +Tad and I rushed at her. And I saw that Tad had staggered back; he +fell, but he was alive, shouting: “Jeff! Look out--run!” + +Rhana whirled at me. I fired again. The flash was reflected upward; the +room ceiling reddened for an instant where it struck. + +“Run, Jeff!” + +Tad was on his knees. I leaped forward--and struck the radiance +surrounding Rhana as though it were a solid wall. A wall of vibration. +The flesh of my arm burned; my robe shriveled about me. I was dashed +back and fell; my weapon clattered to the floor. + +Rhana had ignored my attack. An instant only she stooped over the +table, then she turned from the instruments. I caught a glimpse of her +face. Her lips were parted in a mocking smile. She went past Tad and +me before we could rise; she caught up her cloak, went through the +doorway. The metal door closed upon us. + +Failure! It pounded at my heart--failure now at the last! + +I was striving to get up. + +“Jeff--you all right?” + +Tad got to his feet, wavering, almost falling again. I stood with him +in a moment, stood shaking. My left arm hung limp and my legs were +almost unable to hold me. The smell of burned flesh, noisome, was heavy +about us. My arm was burned; Tad was scorched. Both our robes were +shriveled and charred about us. + +We lurched to where Entt lay huddled on the floor, then I pulled Tad +away. + +“Dead?” he asked. + +I gasped. “Yes--don’t look, Tad. His face--burned where she struck +him--it’s--too badly burned.” + +Thank God he was dead! + +Failure! It pounded at us, beyond thought of Entt, or ourselves. These +gates, this torrent! + +The mechanism lay inert where Rhana had demolished it. But more than +that-- + +“Jeff, listen! Good God!” + +Monstrous roar and surge of the water. But there were other sounds in +it now--a muffled rumbling, far away, a vague blended rumble, crashing, +tearing, as of great mountains of rock split and torn and moved away. +It was growing into a tumult--sweeping nearer, louder. + +“Jeff!” + +The window by the broken mechanism was closed; but its heavy pane +was transparent. We could see the dam through it. A mile away, as we +stared, a great segment of metal moved outward, broke and fell into the +torrent. The dam was crumbling! + +A snapping violet light, huge as a rainbow, was out there, darting +along the wall as far as we could see into the distance--a powder train +of light, laid by the Gians, which now Rhana had released. It ate and +tore and ripped at the wall. Another segment crumbled and fell--a +mountain of metal rock, instantly engulfed by the greater surge of +water from behind it; engulfed and flung down and lost as though it +were a pebble. + +The seething white abyss was visibly higher now. In ten minutes more it +would be up here to the gate-house level, its backed-up water surging +into the dark realm of the monsters, surging everywhere. + +“Tad--it’s breaking!” Was that my voice, so calm in the midst of a +cataclysm like this? “Breaking, Tad. We can’t do anything about it. +Just get out of here--” + +His eyes were big, luminous as torches; his white face expressionless +with the shock of it. + +Failure! + +“Yes, Jeff. We’d better get away.” + +The window near the broken mechanism was closed by its heavy thick +pane. We found now that the other window was closed! And the door! +We pulled at them. With all our shattered strength we tore at them. +Futile! We were trapped. A metal cage, now, this little house clinging +to the rocks, with the mounting torrent already risen almost to engulf +it! + + + + + CHAPTER XX. + + DOOMED REALM! + + +It seemed for an instant that we had not the courage left to struggle. +Yet even a rat within a cage plunged into water frantically fights +to its last strength. We stood with full realization, apathetic; and +then panic descended upon us. The instinct for self-preservation, +overwhelming, driving us into unreasonable panic. We flung ourselves +at the door; upon the thick windows we beat with bruised, futile fists. + +This inconceivable torrent, rising. The windows were wet with the +spray; as though a wave had struck us, solid water dashed against +them and then receded. A white chaos out there, with the violet light +leaping through it. + +“Jeff! We can’t--we can’t get out! Jeff! Here--help me hit it! Let’s +try hitting it with the table--” + +I stood, with some remnant of reason, striving to master the panic. So +this was the end? + +“Tad, for God’s sake, stop! Don’t waste time. Stop and think what’s +best to do. We’ve got to find a way out!” I held him, shook him. “We’ve +got a few minutes--there must be some way!” + +So this was the end of Tad Megan and Jeff Grant? Ah, there is a fate +to guide us all in the making of our destiny. In stress, in crisis, in +disaster--always some little thing. + +My foot struck against the small projector lying on the floor. I +stooped and seized it. + +“Tad. This?” I moved about the room. With this stabbing, burning light, +could we not blast or burn our way out through some vulnerable spot? + +We were both suddenly calmer. + +“Easy, Jeff, don’t waste its charge. How many flashes has it got?” + +“I don’t know.” The building shook under the blow of an upflung surge +of solid spray. “We’ll find some spot that might fuse easily.” + +The window facing the ladder platform--its thick pane seemed embedded +in a casement like lead, a gray soft metal. I stood a foot from it and +fired. The stab of light came back at me, the recoil like a blow, and +burning. My hand and arm were seared. But a portion of the casement was +gone. The wind from outside came through. + +“It works, Jeff! Give it to me--I’ll try one.” + +A dozen or more blasts of the projector, then it failed us, empty, its +charge exhausted. I flung it away. But the bull’s-eye pane was almost +free. We raised the metal table, heaved it. The corner of it struck the +pane; the whole thing fell outward. Wind and spume came beating madly +through. + +We climbed, and fell outward upon the platform. The roar was deafening. +We crouched, clung and found the head of the ladder, then went down it. + +There seemed still only spray at the bottom. In the white murk I saw +the wet black ground, wet courtyard walls. The crest of a wave engulfed +them. We clung to the bottom of the ladder. The water fell away. + +We leaped, reached the ground, and ran, the spray following us down the +declivity. The white abyss into which the water had been falling was +nearly filled. I saw, as we turned and ran, the blurred vision of that +gigantic crumbling dam. But even that would be very soon but a portion +of the torrent. + + * * * * * + +The aëro was still unharmed. It seemed, as we climbed to it and started +it aloft, that a wall of water swept under us. The car bucked and +whirled in the wind; the spray was like a torrential salt rain as we +mounted through it. + +We had to shout above the roar. + +“You think you can guide us out, Tad?” + +“Yes, I think so.” + +“We’ve got to get to the tunnel and find Arturo and Nereid.” + +The water raced us. We rose perhaps five hundred feet. This abyss of +the monsters now was not silent, nor dark. Behind us we could hear the +roar and lash of the water pouring in. The dark, dying sea was whipped +into fury, and rising visibly. The turmoil of water was white now. The +white radiance streamed from it. I saw, far overhead, a rocky ceiling. +I looked back. The radiance showed the clifflike wall back there, +blurred by the white chaos; but I saw it crumbling. + +We found the connecting passage leading out to the abyss of the Middge +and Gians. The water had reached here--the first surge racing through +here, a mile-wide subterranean torrent. We flew close over it. There +was a place where the ceiling came down. We barely got through. + +Racing, with the abyss behind us breaking under the pressure. +Distant, muffled rumbling, horribly gigantic, behind us. There was +a vague muffled explosion off somewhere--some fire-pit which the +water had reached. The vibration of it--the suddenly increased air +pressure--dashed our aëro into a wild upward leap, and then a drop. We +barely recovered, and raced on. + +The torrent here in the passage was eating at the walls. One of them +broke through as we went by. A rock mass fell close behind us. The +water backed against it; it broke sidewise in other places. + +A chaos of falling rock was back there. The dammed-up water turned +other ways, into other abysses--filled them, soon rose, pursuing us +again. + +“Where are we, Tad?” + +I shouted it as we lay prone, clinging to the leaping little aëro. + +“In the main abyss, I think. God, Jeff, look over there!” + +We seemed rushing through the familiar abyss of the Mound City. But it +was no longer familiar. I followed Tad’s gaze, and saw a red glare in +the distance. + +“Is that the fire caldron?” + +“I don’t know--I think so--or was it the other way?” + +The outlines of the abyss were changing; the walls breaking down; fire +pits opening. For a time--how long I cannot say--we were lost. An hour +perhaps? Or more? + +We flew aimlessly, seeking the tunnel-entrance. Did it still exist? + +This doomed realm! There were things Tad and I saw in that hour or +more of flight which have marked us forever with horror, a myriad +small fragmentary glimpses which were all our minds could grasp--tiny +fragments of the whole which was beyond conception. + +The distant red glare spread. We avoided it, flying the other way. Tad +thought that the black wall off to our left held the tunnel mouth. But +it began breaking, and a wall of water engulfed it. + +The hot breath of the fires reached us, thickly sulphurous. We soon +were gasping. + +Everywhere the honeycomb was breaking down. Still distant--but the +familiar conformations of the abyss were changing. + +Lost. And then a new hope came to us. The surface beneath us showed +clear in the red glare. Houses were here now, and a road. + +“We’ve passed the tunnel,” Tad shouted. “That’s the road from the +Mound--I know the way now!” + + * * * * * + +We turned back and followed it. People were down there. Middge and +loaded _arras_, running in panic. + +A muffled explosion sounded through the mingled roar of water and +falling rock. A hot sulphurous wave of gas came surging. It seemed to +cling to the surface--a black mist rolling, spreading. It engulfed +the struggling line of Middge. Its tongues of flame licked at them. +They wilted, shriveled. Human cries came up to us--shrill, tiny as +shrieking insects. The gas-cloud hid them. + +“Higher, Tad--we’ll be--choked--” + +We mounted. The air was pure here, wet with wind and the salt of the +inrushing sea. A wall of water came tumbling, engulfing, lashing at the +surface, then pounding off to some lower area. A monster--something +still alive, struggling with instinct of fear--trumpeted with a +strident, uncanny scream. The cry stopped in a moment as the thing was +swept away. + +This doomed realm! + +“Tad, look! Is that the entrance?” + +A rock wall still intact loomed ahead of us, and a tunnel mouth, +blurred in the mingled spray and smoke. One small beacon light still +remained, bleary, winking--vanishing. + +We landed on the rock with a crash. Unhurt, we jumped from the aëro. +Human figures lay here, twisted, huddled shapes. A few still tried to +move. + +We choked with the fumes. I passed a child--dead, clinging in death to +its dead mother. A woman alone--gruesomely burned from some flaming +tongue which had licked the rocks here. I stooped. No, it was not +Nereid. + +We thought we had come to the niche where Arturo and Nereid were to +meet us. It was empty. We stumbled away. + +In the tunnel mouth the air seemed momentarily better. A man struggled +ahead of us, then fell, lay still. I stooped over him. No, not Arturo. + +The tunnel rose steeply. For just a moment at a turn, we stood looking +back. A muttering, screaming, hissing abyss of red glare--steam and +smoke and mingled water and fire, breaking down all its distant walls, +an inconceivable torrent, filling this abyss, smothering these fires, +crushing these passages. Rushing thousands of miles--smashing and +roaring to find new levels. + +We rounded the corner--struggled and stumbled on upward through the +dark tunnel. + + + + + CHAPTER XXI. + + THE WHITE AËRO ATTACKS. + + +It had been the night of August 15, 1991, when I stood at Park Circle +80, in New York, and saw the news bulletins that the tides again were +falling. The days that followed were for our world the strangest, +most fearsome of its recorded history, comparable to nothing within +our ken. Yet we know so little of the lifetime of our earth. A few +centuries out of millions! We look at our maps; we say: “This is +the land and this, the water. This is the way things are.” We feel +instinctively that it was always so. But it was not. + +The events of August, September, and October of 1991 are history now. I +cannot detail them; cannot crowd into a few paragraphs the chronicle of +more than an infinitesimal fraction of what really occurred. + +The tides, for a few days after August 15 were off a fathom or so each +twenty-four hours. It brought, in all the interwoven affairs of our +nations, a sudden stoppage of all human activity, a panicky confusion. +But that was soon over. Human endeavor must go on; without it, we die. +Transportation must proceed. Food must come daily to all the great +population centers. Without transportation, in forty-eight hours New +York City would be starving. + +They say now that had 1991 not been the age of the air, the world could +not have survived. Doubtless it is so. The oceans had come naturally +into disuse, and air transportation, even over our great land areas, +was already supreme. + +Storms swept the world on August 16. Volcanic activity began. From +every part of the earth’s surface came reports of nature disturbed. The +news tapes were crowded, and with the disorganization of industry, the +newscasters proved inadequate. There were days when even government +officials were scarcely aware of the terrible events transpiring. + +Dr. Plantet was summoned to Washington. He found there a harassed +government in utter chaos. A million abnormal things to be done at +once--a million unprecedented problems requiring instant solution, +with the safety of our people hanging in the balance. The panic must +be allayed. All work, all human endeavor must cease, save those things +which were vital. + +Transportation of food loomed out of the chaos, most vital problem of +all. Storms were wrecking the established air lines. But that supreme +thing--food for our millions--must not be wrecked. Industry was at +a standstill, but no one cared. The world’s northern harvests were +neglected; the southern countries stopped all thought of the spring +planting. No one cared. That was the future. This was now, a vital +crisis; a matter of days, or hours. + +A passenger air-liner coming from London was wrecked in a hurricane +which on August 17 swept the Northern Atlantic. The news was +ignored--save that such futile transportation was commanded to +discontinue. + +There would be droughts in the future. If the oceans emptied, what +of our rainfall? New desert areas would spring up, to alter all our +agriculture. What of it? That was the future. This chaos was now. New +supplies of fresh water would have to be found. The scientists thought +so--but they weren’t sure. No one knew anything or cared anything +beyond this week, or next--to-day, and to-morrow. + +Every government in the world was in a turmoil. And private endeavor +was inadequate, futile; upon the governments alone lay the burden. Ah, +in the serene times of normality, big business decries its government! +But when trouble comes--business stands helpless and says: “Tell us +what to do!” + + * * * * * + +In the midst of the welter our war department faced the possibility of +an enemy lurking in the ocean depths which the falling water was laying +bare. Plans must be made--defense against an enemy inhuman, or at least +so strange, so unknown that to plan intelligently to fight it seemed +impossible. An army to equip--to fight whom? And where? And under what +conditions? No one could say. + +Polly remained at the Plantet home on the Maine coast, those days +following August 15. The news-tape was in the instrument room; the +radio-phones and mirrors were there to carry her with sound and vision +to distant lands; the sky was overhead, and the falling sea lay before +her. I fancy she saw as much of the whole as any one; her experience +was typical. + +She sat for hours in the instrument room with the maelstrom of recorded +events surging around her. The mind dulls under such a plethora of +impressions. Vast ocean currents appearing. A gigantic drift to the +Pacific. Rushing ocean past all our Pacific islands and continental +coasts. Storms, floods, disasters everywhere. Unusual volcanic and +seismic activity. It soon began to have little meaning. + +And soon, too, the reports grew vague. There was no one to measure the +falling tides; no passing planes to sight many of the icebergs coming +down with a rush from the polar regions; no one to record the water +temperatures, to reveal the polar seas moving into the warm Pacific. + +Polly was busy answering calls for her father; taking messages; fending +them off; weeding them out and relaying them to Washington. But there +were hours when she was free. + +She sat often at the rocky beach, generally in the long evening and +night hours. The sea lay before her; lapping at the rocks, far out and +down the slope from where once had been a shore-front. A dark area out +there, unnaturally low--the ocean lying with the starlight upon it. The +rocky headlines of the coast stood with naked black roots exposed. + +Polly says that she could notice the drift of the water, like a river +slowly moving southward. And each night--each morning when she came out +to stare at it--the water was lower, its shore edge farther out and +farther down, more of the rocky slope laid bare. The coast headlands +and outer rocks began to seem peaks upstanding from this new realm of +land. Two rocks to the north, which once had been mere points above the +water, now were joined down at their dark roots--twin spires at the top +of a widening elevation of tumbled slimy rock. + +The smell of the rotting sea had been heavy along the coast under the +daylight sun; vaporous like a miasma rolled up from the exposed slopes. +A mist clung heavy upon the water which only the sun at noon could +dispel. A north wind, the night of the 18th, brought a clearer air. By +midnight it was cold--as though this wind had come whirling from the +Arctic. And with it fell a torrential downpour--tropical in force--cold +enough to suggest that it might have snow coming behind it. + +Polly stood on the upper balcony. Black downpour--driving wind. And +overhead she noticed a heavy, luminous green murk. Nature was abnormal, +disturbed everywhere. She went indoors. + +The radio announcer was reeling off reports of the storm. South +Greenland, Labrador, and all the north of Quebec Province were +enveloped in a blizzard. There was a report that the water in Davis +Strait was far colder than normal; an ice pack was coming down it, +moving southward. + +Polly sat for a time trying to envisage it all. And her thoughts turned +to Arturo and me, and Nereid. She thought once that Nereid was speaking +to her, but then it seemed only fancy. + + * * * * * + +The storm was gone by morning. The day warmed again. The wind, +unnaturally swinging, blew violently first one way, then another. The +sea was lower; another ten feet down--its shore now, where at the +seaweed rocky slope it pounded with spent waves from the storm, was +another fifty feet away. The mist hung over it, swirled in the wind, +and in the lulls gathered like a smoke pall. + +The smell of the mist was heavy, noisome almost--rotting weed, +barnacles, shell-fish, food of the sea, lying on the slimy rocks, +rotting, stinking in the sun. The smell of ooze and sea-mud. A heavy +dark murk began to hover always down there. The wind blew it away, but +it gathered again. Once it came like a wave on the wind, rolling up the +slope to this higher level where the Plantet house stood. Polly closed +up the building until the outside air cleared. + +The night of August 20-21 was still, soundless, save from far down +where the ocean rollers were pounding. It was a heavy, oppressive +night; dark, with sullen, green-black clouds. From the veranda there +seemed to Polly only a dark void stretching out over the falling ocean, +two hundred feet below her--a void of sullen black mist. A green-black +murk hung down there with the water level hidden beneath it. The aspect +of a vanished ocean had never been so obvious. Here on the Maine coast +Polly stood gazing out toward Spain. + +It came upon her then: she was standing upon a great height--our whole +continental coast was the summit of a gigantic rise. Spain was off +there beyond the horizon, standing similarly on a height. And between +them was a dark void, an abyss filled now with noisome clouds. But when +the clouds lifted? + +Polly could envisage then the new lands rolling down there in the abyss +between her and Spain. The lands of the depths. New mountains whose +highest peaks were lower than her feet. New plains, new valleys--a +whole new realm added to our world. Some day, when the air down there +was purged and the ooze and mud and rotting sea-organisms were dried, +and cleansed by the blessed sunlight, what fertile land would be given +mankind! What mines of metal and precious stones might be found! + +Villages would spring up. Agriculture, industry would begin down +there. Our world of the earth’s surface, suddenly made five times +larger. The world of the Lowlands, added to the Highlands which were +all we had before. She envisaged the Bermudas tiny mountain peaks +towering alone out of the Lowlands toward the sky. And the Azores--and +southward, all the little fairy mountain-tops which once we had called +the islands of the Caribbean. + +Fearsome, but romantic cataclysm to bring so suddenly this change! + +That sullen night of August 20-21 passed, to Polly, without incident. +But at dawn she was awakened; the newscaster’s voice was blaring. She +crowded, with the frightened servants of the household, before the +sound-grid. + +An earthquake had occurred somewhere under the Pacific Ocean. Two tidal +waves had flung from it. The Asiatic and American coasts, even with the +ocean level down two hundred feet, were inundated. Thousands dead and +homeless. From the Pacific islands meager reports were coming. Many +islands had been swept end to end by the wave. The great volcanos of +the Hawaiians were in violent eruption. But in an hour’s time they were +quiet again. + +The tidal waves dashed themselves out. Death and destruction raged for +an hour over thousands of miles of seacoast. + +An earthquake under the ocean; tidal waves spent and gone; volcanos +active, then still. But down there underground, I had seen the cause of +all this, had seen a realm and a nation doomed and destroyed. + +Yet what I had seen was an infinitesimal part. Who can ever picture the +smashing of those underground passages; the compression of steam and +gases, ripping, tearing, heaving with one mighty lunge to rip the ocean +bottom? An earthquake! Futile term! What have we who feel a trembling +that shakes our buildings down, or opens a few cracks in the surface, +ever experienced of the reality beneath? + + * * * * * + +That night of August 20 a giant rift must have opened in the floor of +the Pacific. Certain it is that from that moment the oceans receded +with ever-increasing rapidity. A hundred feet down on the 21st, more +than that the next day; an accelerating drop as the volume of water +grew less. There was no one to measure, to do more than guess at +it from circling, groping aircraft gazing down at the green-black +mist-clouds which hung over the new Lowlands. + +On the 21st of August, Dr. Plantet returned to Polly. They stayed there +throughout August, September and well into October. Sixty days of world +confusion. Ten years from now the chaotic events of those days may be +sorted out for some patient chronicler to tell in a coherent fashion. I +would not dare attempt it. But there were a few high lights which stand +out clearly. + +The rainfall was abnormal, gradually lessening. High winds were +everywhere reported. Volcanic activity was spasmodic and there were +no other earthquakes. As though nature wanted to help struggling, +panic-stricken mankind, artesian wells and all sources of fresh water +save rainfall, were abnormally bountiful. The climate was changing, on +the whole, growing far colder--and this, they said, was only temporary; +the Polar seas were moving down with the rush of all the oceans into +the emptying Pacific Basin. The oceans, down in the murky depths, were +surging like rivers. The roar of them down there against the rocks of +their lowering shore-fronts was like a giant waterfall heard everywhere +in the world. + +The Lowlands were opening up, but great slow-moving cloud masses hung +over them. The ocean surface down at the bottom was seldom seen. +Heavy mists clung low--every day lower. Peaks began to show down in +the abyss, new, sullen black mountain-tops, eroded into rounded domes, +unreal to any earthly landscape. The mists clung to them like black +veils. + +The foul rotting smell of the vapors, when the wind brought them up, +caused disease; but daily the menace visibly lessened. + +The vapors clung low; soon they seldom rose from the distant, deepest +Lowlands. They were not only low, but far away from our coast cities. +The continental shelf was exposed for several hundred miles. + +Of the new realm, little could be seen save the downward slopes and the +distant domelike peaks. + +During September the organized aircraft of several nations were +regularly cruising over the Pacific Basin. The Lowlands of the Pacific, +they now were being called. An enemy might be down there. The planes +carried image-finders; the public at its mirrors, gazed upon the +strange scene. The planes seldom flew lower than the former sea-level. +Rolling dark, heavy clouds lay beneath them. Rounded peaks; eroded +mountain ridges. And sometimes the sea would show. Broken now into +bowl-like areas, which if they had not drained would have been new, +small land-locked oceans. Giant waterfalls, tumbling over great ridges; +wide, swift-flowing rivers, draining off to be dry valleys within a +week. + +It was all so constantly changing. What an observer saw to-day, was +unrecognizable to-morrow. There were many tales of dying things of +the sea, lying trapped on the rocky slopes--dying, rotting. And +occasionally a broken surface vessel of by-gone days, exposed in its +grave as the water left it. + +There was no sign of an enemy, until September 30th. And that day the +civilized world of the Highlands rang with the news. + + * * * * * + +The oceans were down some eight or ten thousand feet now. No one +could measure the exact level. Oceans? The word had lost its meaning. +There was no body of water left of any great extent. The realm of the +Lowlands was an actuality. + +Far down among the black mists water often was seen. Lakes perched in +mountain caldrons. Giant waterfalls; tumbling rivers; cañons, some +dry, some filled with tumultuous water; domes rearing their rounded +heads into the heavy clouds; domes, lower, isolated at the water level; +great trenches filled with moving water; ridges, like mountain chains +standing aloft. + +Strange, black new realm. Its main configurations were beginning to +take form. The great ridges of the Atlantic Basin were showing. The +huge central basin of the Pacific lay like a dark inland sea. The great +deeps were still all unbroken water. + +On September 30, a plane was passing over the Micronesia section of +the Pacific Lowlands, scouting the tumbled abyss down there, the +precipitous slopes from the ridges and domes down to the water-filled +caldrons and trenches. + +The exact latitude and longitude were not given by the discoverer. +The report said: “Micronesia, north of the Caroline Mountain-tops.” +Seen vaguely through a rolling cloud mass was what might have been a +plateau, with mountain ridges around it. The plane was flying at about +our Continental level, the former sea-level. They were calling it now +the Zero-height; and in the new technical language this plateau was +down in the Lowlands at minus ten thousand feet. + +The observers could see very little. A fiercely flowing river, still +lower, was tumbling into a boiling pit. The plateau was broken and +pitted with dark round areas like cave-mouths. There were moving human +figures on the plateau! The plane swept on, came back, and descended to +what they claimed was minus fifteen hundred feet, the lowest level any +plane had yet attained. Through a cloud rift the observers saw human +figures clearly. A brief glimpse. There seemed hundreds, perhaps a +thousand figures. + +Polly and her father were at home when the news came. Polly, all that +morning, was silent. Thoughts seemed struggling to reach her. Once she +leaped to her feet, stood trembling. + +“Father! I hear--I feel words from Nereid! Arturo--Jeff--they’re +safe--still alive!” + +She knew it. And then her mind rang with other words: + +“_Stop! Don’t let them attack us! Stop them!_” + +It was hardly half an hour later when the newscasters had another +report. Two planes had gone back with the discoverer to verify the +existence of this enemy. The figures were still to be seen down there. +The planes had dropped bombs--they believed, with effect. They had had +a brief, telescopic glimpse. The white-skinned people had scattered. +Some lay still; many were seen running--small, white-skinned people. + +It was plain to Polly. These were people like Nereid. And Nereid’s +thoughts were saying: “_Stop them! Don’t let them attack us!_” + +Dr. Plantet talked with the authorities. A week went by. + +Planes watched this enemy, but no more bombs were dropped. Polly strove +for further connection with Nereid, but could not establish it. + +On October 8 the Gians were discovered. “Gray-skinned people,” the +reports said, “with apparatus of metal.” + +They were seen less clearly and more briefly than the Middge, and were +farther to the south. Dr. Plantet and Polly identified it as being +fairly near the Zero-height peak which was Nereid’s island. + +The Gians were seen in a tumbled region which since has been termed the +Southwest Mountains of the Moon. The planes circled in the neighborhood +for an hour, awaiting a rift in the concealing cloud-banks. But the +gray-skinned figures were gone--withdrawn probably into the myriad +caverns of the region. And the Middge, too, seemed now to have +retreated, hiding down there in the caves and passages which were +numerous in all this area of the Micronesian Lowlands. + + * * * * * + +October 15 came. The authorities were studying the region. Plans for +attack were being made, volunteer armies were being organized, and +armed planes were being equipped. There was much scientific discussion +over changes that would be necessary in wing areas, curvatures, angles +of incidence for flying in the greater air-pressures of the Sub-zero +levels. + +The world, with the enemy now discovered, was immediately less +apprehensive. White, and gray-skinned people down there--they seemed +neither very numerous nor very menacing. The public rang with boastful +predictions of what would happen when our planes were ready to attack. + +Not a very numerous enemy, nor very menacing! Not menacing? A +gray-white shape was observed on the night of October 15, flying at +the Zero-height near the Australian Continental shelf. It was vaguely +described. An aëro--very flat and narrow--wingless--several hundred +feet long by twenty feet wide. + +On October 17 a strange disease was reported from Southeast Australia. +People were stricken by it over a widely separated area. But all of +them lived at or near the Zero-height, at the edge of the Southeast +shelf, the border of the Lowlands. + +Strange disease indeed! The reports came to Dr. Plantet. A number of +the suffering victims were brought by fast airline to Washington. Dr. +Plantet, with a group of leading medical men, met in Washington to +study the disease. + +Whether contagious, or infectious, or both, they could not say. A +germ disease undoubtedly. Swiftly progressing. A day of darkening +fingernails. Fingers and toes turning numb and black. The whites of +the eyes turning dark. A lassitude. A gruesome coma with the victim +screaming as in a nightmare. Then a calm, trancelike catalepsy, +followed by death. + +Dr. Plantet came back to Polly. He was grim. He slumped in his chair. + +“We don’t know what it is, Polly. Nothing we have ever had to deal +with before.” She had never seen him so solemn, so drab. He lifted his +white tired face; his eyes were burning from lack of sleep. + +“It’s from that thing they saw, Polly--that gray-white aëro. Nothing +much has been said about it publicly, and I hope to Heaven they won’t +yet for awhile. But that’s where this disease came from--we’re sure of +that.” + +He sat up with a slight return of his old energy. “They’ve got to +annihilate this enemy! At once--it’s got to be done. They’ve been +saying: ‘We’ve got them helpless, down there in the Lowlands. They +can’t harm us.’ Harm us? This is no warfare of the kind we’ve ever +known! Inhuman, unreasoning--what sort of men must these gray people +be! No attack--nothing military--no open warfare--nothing! Just +spreading a disease. There are women and children among those victims, +Polly--more women than men. It will wipe us out--it will mean the end +of the world for us all unless we can check it!” + + + + + CHAPTER XXII. + + REFUGEES OF THE LOWLANDS. + + +Tad and I struggled upward into the tunnel-passage. The fact that with +Arturo and Nereid, and some two thousand of the Middge people, we at +last reached the surface I have already made evident. I need not detail +those weary, despairing days and weeks in the darkness. It may have +been a march of several hundred miles. I do not know. I would have said +it consumed a year, rather than those weeks. + +We came upon Nereid and Arturo within a few hours. The passage was +strewn with the Middge refugees. Out of the million in the abyss, +perhaps a hundred thousand actually got into the tunnel. And only two +thousand survived. We passed them hourly; families resting, encamped, +to take up again the burden of the march. We passed them dead, or +dying--burned and maimed at the tunnel-entrance, or before they got +into the tunnel--struggling on now, falling at last. + +The tunnel was heavy with gases. Sometimes, when we thought our last +choking breath had been drawn, side rifts would seem to bring us purer +air. We had started without equipment or food, or water, but there +were hundreds of loaded _arras_ in the long line of refugees. We +very soon found one whose owner had succumbed. Arturo and Nereid, when +we overtook them, we found them well supplied. They had waited until +a wave of flame had surged to the tunnel-entrance. They had even gone +back there once; then despaired of us, and left. + +We heard, soon after we four were again together, a muffled, terrible +roar far away in the earth, and felt the tremble of it. It was the +earthquake under the Pacific, though we could no more than guess it +then. The tunnel shook; part of the roof near us fell, crushing a score +of the Middge. We saw then that behind us the tunnel was blocked. The +air ahead soon grew purer. No Middge could follow us, but those in +advance were in less distress. We made better time, but at that it +seemed an endless struggle. + +Weeks of August’s close, and of September. We lost all possible track +of them. We did not know until afterward that it was probably September +29 when the first pitiful little vanguard of our party reached the new +world. + +The food and water were running low. The _arras_ had all given out +and were abandoned. The changing air-pressures, the new quality of air, +affected us all somewhat, but the animals were stricken, a few at a +time. We left them, pitifully breathless, gasping. + +There was one stage of the march where for what might have been a week +we were halted by a subterranean river torrent. We waited, helpless, +despairing. But the water in the cross passage into which our tunnel +abruptly ended, at last roared away. New air came to us, dank, with a +rotting, salt tang to it. + +We traveled, those final days, with the surviving Middge scientists. +They told us that they had a weapon; a huge affair, for long range +operation. It was not assembled. But when we reached the surface-- + +Ah, how many times in those days of struggle we voiced the thought: +“When we reach the surface!” To come out upon a friendly earth. To +join, with this weapon, the earth’s armies against the Gians. “When we +reach the surface--” + +“Why,” said Tad, “everything will be all right then. What can those +Gian women and men do against our earth? Say, what is this Middge +weapon?” + +Good old Tad! His spirits never flagged. There were moments when his +cheering voice to the Middge--the laugh which they could understand +though his words were foreign--helped many a despairing family to get +up and plod on farther. + +Nereid did not know what the Middge weapon was. They did not care to +talk about it now. But in the times of rest there was much talk of our +food and water supply. If it would only last us to the surface. Ah, +when we reached the blessed surface! + + * * * * * + +I think I shall never forget that moment when we struggled out into the +dim light of the Lowlands. I stood with Tad and Arturo, half blinded. +But of them all only we three had eyes that would adjust to the light. +We stood in a cave-mouth, seemingly upon a mountainside. There were a +score of ramifying caves beneath us. The Middge were crowding up into +them. The light! The blessed, frightening daylight! We could hear the +Middge babbling about it. Safety at last! + +We three stood, with our pupils contracting--and at last we could see. +It must have been nearly noon; through a rift in the dark clouds the +sun momentarily showed. + +Our blessed sun! Here again in our own world! But we stared, +unbelieving. Foul mist hung about us, thick with the heavy, choking +smell of ooze and slime. Beneath us, a thousand feet or more, a land +surface lay in a tumbled mass of black crags. A river flowed tumultuous +in a gorge. Behind us a great slimy plateau spread into the misty +distance. Ooze caked by the daylight heat lay red and black upon it. +Dark peaks, rounded and blurred, showed looming against the far horizon. + +Our world? It seemed perhaps a lunar landscape. No, for there were +clouds and dank mist enshrouding everything. A strange world, an +infernal landscape, not of this planet, nor even of the moon. + +Disappointment, such as I had never known before, flooded me. Not a +living being to be seen here in all this desolation! Why, I could seem +to see out over this tumbled waste for hundreds of miles! Safety here, +with our food and water nearly gone? Why, we were as far from safety as +any ancient explorer of the Polar icefields, standing lost upon a berg, +surveying the desolation around him! + +In a chain of dank slimy grottos close under the surface of this +plateau-like elevation, the Middge clustered to await our communication +with earth civilization. In a score of dim caves, the families grouped +together, setting up small shelters of garments and robes, like tents, +for privacy. The night came. Small glowing hand torches sprang with +points of dim light. Strange encampment of struggling humans, here in +the new world, waiting to be rescued! + +Arturo, Tad and I came to prominence. The Middge leaders were already +working on their war equipment. With Nereid for interpreter, we were +questioned on where we were, and what was best to do. But we did not +know where we were! This had been the Pacific Ocean. No islands were +near here; in all this desolate panorama there had been no mountain top +with any sign of verdure. + +Could we travel on foot, here on this land? We did not know. A +mile or two a day, perhaps; climbing the crags, descending into +valleys, avoiding mountain torrents, picking our way over the caked +ooze--struggling as men on foot have struggled over Polar icefields! + +But in which direction? How far to the nearest mountain top where +people might be living? We could not say. + +“But one thing,” said Tad, “they’ll be planes flying over here. We must +go up in the daylight, many of us on top where they can see us.” + +We built, that next day, a tent of white for a signal, and crowded +around it. The Middge came up, blinded by the light. + +A plane went overhead. We could barely see it, just for a moment in a +rift in the clouds. It seemed ten thousand feet above us, at least. +It was a familiar model, we recognized its shape. But a bomb came +whistling down. Our little tent was gone. A score of the Middge lay +maimed and dying. + + * * * * * + +It was then that Nereid thought she had communicated with Polly, +sending her desperate plea: “_Don’t let them attack us!_” + +She was sure she had reached Polly. And all that day she struggled to +communicate further. The night came--our second night in the Lowlands. +Nereid had a little tent to herself against the wall of one of the +caves. Arturo, Tad, and I had a shelter near it. We had discussed the +possibility of organizing a party to start on foot for help. + +A week or two here, even with the starvation rations upon which the +encampment now was put, and our plight would be desperate. Nereid +opposed it--she still thought she could direct Polly to bring help to +us. And she believed, that evening sitting alone in her tent, that she +had reached Polly again. But she said nothing to us. + +It may have been midnight. Arturo and Tad were asleep. Exhausted with +weeks of marching, this inactivity here was needed by us all. I had +been sleeping soundly. I do not know what awakened me--chance perhaps, +or fate. + +I went to the flap of our little tent. The cave was in darkness; the +fantastic tents, with a dim light here and there, were silent. + +I saw a figure moving, recognized it for Nereid. She had evidently +just come from her tent. I was alert at once; but instead of speaking +to her, I drew back, watching. There was a furtiveness about her; she +moved swiftly, silently across the grotto, her hair and veils floating +as she walked. + +In a moment, I followed. She was headed into one of the small tunnels +that led a few yards upward to the open plateau. I lost sight of her +for a time; but when I was out upon the upper level I saw her again. +She moved along the rocks cautiously but swiftly and came to the edge +of a cliff that fronted the distant void of the abyss. I stood watching. + +It was dark enough, so that she could see comfortably. The clouds hung +low over the plateau. The rounded rock spires, caked with ooze and +slime, were dark sentinels in the gloom. The further distance was solid +black; but in a moment moonlight broke through, edging the naked black +rocks with a green-white glow. + +In a hollow down the precipitous slope, a tangled rotting mass of sea +vegetation lay slumped and limp in a dark pool of water which was +trapped in a basin of the rock. And miles away and a thousand feet +below where I stood, the moonlight slanted down through the clouds +in a great white shaft and fell upon a giant caldron of inky water, +painting it with white fire. + +Against the moonlight Nereid flung a protecting hand to her eyes. She +sat on a rock. The clouds closed over us; the scene was dark when I +reached her. + +“Nereid!” + +She started, alarmed. Then relaxed. “Oh, it is you, Jeff.” + +I sat beside her. “What are you doing up here?” + +She hesitated, but she answered softly: + +“I am very glad you came. I was frightened, to be up here alone. But I +thought I wanted to be alone. Polly is coming! I have reached her--I am +sure of it.” + +“Polly!” + +“Yes. With help for us. This morning I reached her.” She put a timid +hand on my arm. “You, Jeff my friend--you know I am trying my best. I +think I reached her this morning. And later, a few hours ago, I think +she understood me again. She is coming--” + +If only she were! My heart was beating fast. “But not alone, Nereid? +She isn’t coming alone?” + +“No. With others. I think she laughed when she told me there would be +others.” + + * * * * * + +“But you don’t know where we are--how could you tell her where to come?” + +I stood up. Polly, with a searching party, here in this abyss--“But +Nereid, we must show some light.” I stared up at the impenetrable dark +mist hanging in a low ceiling above us. Nereid stood with me. She said +anxiously: + +“Do you think there is a chance? I tried to describe these cliffs, this +level top, the cave mouths. It was two hours ago, I think, when she +said she was starting. Jeff, would she be that near here? Could any one +fly from your cities nearest here in a few hours?” + +Polly, down here on one of the mountain-tops which had been a South Sea +island? It was possible. And the Marshall group, I thought, ought to be +within a thousand miles to the east, and the Carolines not much more +than half that to the south. Mountain ranges towering above the clouds +of these desolate Lowlands. Was Polly on her way down from them to seek +us? + +“Nereid, we must show a light as a guide.” + +She produced a globe from her robe. Futile little spot of radiance! We +held it aloft. + +An hour or more passed. We sat on the rock, with the light between us. +Who could ever see us, tiny figures down in this barren, cloud-swept +waste? + +There was not a sound; a heavy thick silence hung over the Lowlands, +with just a sullen murmur floating up from the tumbling water of the +lower levels to the north. + +“Nereid, you’d better go down, I’ll stay here--” + +“No.” + +Another hour? We heard nothing. But from over us presently there seemed +movement. A blur in the cloud-bank; a blurred, nearing shape, hovering. + +I leaped to my feet. Something quite close over us, stolen upon us. No +earthly airplane! A long, narrow, gray-white shape! + +Nereid gave a little cry. I gripped her; started to run. But too late. +From above a light darted down in a narrow beam. It seized us, held +and pulled and sucked us upward. I did not lose consciousness. I clung +to Nereid. We were whirled, gasping, through the air. The gray shape +magnified, gigantic at our heads. Hands and arms came reaching down; +clutched us; the light vanished. + +[Illustration: _The ray seized them, held them, pulled them +relentlessly up into the air._] + +We were hauled, as swimmers are hauled from the sea, over a low rail +and flung to the aëro’s deck, with the tall gray figure of Rhana +imperiously surveying us. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIII. + + WHITE SHAPES IN THE MOONLIGHT. + + +We were upon that gray-white aëro which, like a ghost, swept at the +Zero-level along the edge of the Australian Highlands. We had been +upon it, and in the encampment of the Gians, some two weeks. The aëro +had only been observed in Australia--the seeds of the new disease were +first scattered there and nowhere else. But the aëro had made a far +longer voyage--a strange, weird exploration through these vast new +Lowlands! + +It was Rhana’s desire to survey this world she was about to conquer. +She avoided the Highlands where an attack upon the aëro might be made. +She had wanted, if I were still alive, to capture me in advance of the +active warfare she contemplated. She believed I would be with Nereid. + +The Gian encampment was located within some hundred miles of where the +Middge emerged. The Gians were south, across a gradual rise toward the +Caroline Mountain chain. Rhana had been alert to receive any possible +thoughts from Nereid. It was Rhana whom Nereid had reached--Rhana, +quick to simulate Polly--Rhana, laughing ironically and saying she +would not come alone. + +She was triumphant to have me; and pleased to have Nereid, whom later +she would use as envoy to the Middge when our surface nations were +conquered. And myself--she told me characteristically when first +we were drawn aboard the aëro. Its twenty feet of width held small +cubbies, like cabins. I was taken from Nereid and thrust into one of +them alone. Rhana came presently to see me. She sat beside me. + +“So we are together again? That is very good, Jeff Grant.” + +Cool, ironical smile. I could not forget that last time I had seen her, +in the roaring gate-house when she had struck Entt down. + +I drew away from her. We were rushing through the black mist. The dark +panorama of the Lowlands was spread outside the cubby bull’s-eye. + +“What do you want of me?” I demanded. + +She told me tersely. This world of mine was strange to her. There was +much that I could tell her about it. I could be of great help to her, +if I would. + +She toyed with her dark-lensed eyeglasses. “If you wish to help me, +Jeff--” + +So strange, her caressing use of my single name! I think she was barely +aware of that caress in her tone. She leaned toward me as I shrank away. + +“So? You are afraid? I thought the big man was different.” It was +not irony this time. Her dark eyes glowed. She touched my arm, and I +held tense. “You interest me, Jeff--” Then she sat back, away from +me. “I would not frighten you.” She added quietly, but there was a +sudden sweep of emotion back of it--unreasoning creature of moods and +passions: “Can’t you guess, Jeff? I want your regard--I want you to +admire me, respect me. I want your love. I frighten you? Oh, that I +would not do--” + + * * * * * + +Her smoldering eyes held me. Her voice was gentle. Life has different +standards. To her, man was a quarry to be pursued. She must not +frighten me! + +She added: “You could have guessed that I loved you. It comes, this +thing that is love, so suddenly. You do not speak--” + +I managed, “I did not guess--” This gray, imperious feline +creature--suddenly amorous now, I could not doubt. But the change from +love to hate could be swift. I repeated cautiously, “I did not guess.” + +“But now, Jeff, you know, and I am going to conquer this big world up +here. I am a masterful woman, Jeff--most powerful. I want you to think +of that--you who are so big, so strong and beautiful of body--a man +so worthy to rule this world with me. You could help me, Jeff--the +inspiration I would have with you beside me--” + +She paused. I began: “Why--” + +“Do not answer now. You are frightened. I would not confuse you. I +want, some time, not now, your love.” + +“Why--” There was nothing I dared say. Her mood, exactly as I feared, +turned suddenly. + +“This girl of the Middge I found you with!” She rasped it out. “You +love her?” + +“No,” I said, alarmed for Nereid. + +Rhana’s gaze searched me. “You are lying! Oh, but why should I think +that little white creature could interest you? She amounts to nothing.” + +“She loves my friend,” I said, “not me. Nor I her.” I decided to chance +it; I might perhaps bargain. “You want me to help you, Rhana, to tell +you what I can about this world of mine? If I do it will you treat me +kindly?” + +She smiled gently. “Why should I harm you? I want your admiration for +what I do--for the woman, the leader that I am. A woman of destiny, as +you call it, Jeff.” + +“And this little white girl--this Middge we named Nereid--you will +guard her safely? Because I ask you to, for the sake of my friend?” + +“Yes.” + +She stood up suddenly, as though my insistence annoyed her. “We will +talk again. You have nothing to fear.” + +She left the cubby. At the door a Gian came and stood to guard me. + + * * * * * + +I was allowed a fair liberty, here in the gray-white aëro. I moved +where I pleased with increasing freedom, though always with a watchful +man of the Gians beside me. Often I was with Nereid; there were times +when we could snatch brief moments of talk, but always with watchful +eyes upon us. + +The aëro, with its length of two hundred feet or more, was decked +over with a long, low narrow cabin, which was divided into many small +compartments, with a narrow passage down the center. A few of the rooms +occupied the entire width of the vehicle; one such was in the bow-peak, +with the operating mechanisms; behind that, another which was Rhana’s +cabin. + +There was a narrow outer deck the length of the ship on both sides. +Amidships was a room of weapons and apparatus for war. But this I was +never allowed to approach. I think that the mechanism for spreading the +disease germs was here. I never saw it. + +The vehicle, with its glowing side pontoons and its faintly luminous +spar projecting from the bow, quite evidently operated similarly to the +ones we had flown in the abyss. There were aboard perhaps fifty Gians. +The men did what heavy, unskilled labor was needed and prepared the +meals. There were women at the controls. + +Besides Rhana, I remembered having seen but one of these Gians +before--that man, Bhool! He came sniveling up to me; and as though +I did not know the full extent of his treachery, like a proud child +he told me. He had murdered Fen; had been there in the house when we +arrived; heard our plans to go to the gate-house; had hurried to tell +Rhana. She had made her hasty trip to thwart us. + +He ended: “Bhool is very clever? You know it?” + +I cuffed him; and met Rhana’s approving, tolerant smile. + +How far we flew on this trip over the Lowlands I could not say. Or +at what speed? I would have guessed it to be fully eight hundred, or +even a thousand, miles an hour. The daylight came; we settled into the +depths and waited for the light to pass. I was closely guarded in a +cabin made dark so my guard could see. And when night came we started +again. + +In all the swirl of mist and vague moonlight, it was a flight unreal, +unearthly. I kept my general sense of direction, from the sun, and at +night from the glimpses of the moon. I wondered how these women could +pretend to navigate, especially an unknown region. But I saw they had +curious instruments, and were making charts of what was passing beneath +us. + +I asked Rhana. + +“We do not know where we are going,” she said. “But to come back the +same way is very easy.” + +In general we flew, at first, to the north, I imagine at about three +thousand feet below the Zero-level. Occasional rises lifted above us. +The water was always far below--for a time there was an unbroken sea +down there--one of the great mid-Pacific deeps. Or again, a tumbled +land of black crags; ravines, gullies, with river torrents of water +surging everywhere. We reached the fallen Polar Sea with its jammed +masses of ice; the heights of the Aleutians loomed ahead of us and we +turned back. + +There was a night when I fancied we were flying in a gigantic circle +over the Central Pacific Basin. A broad, level stretch of water, far +down--receding but still many hundreds of fathoms deep. I saw what +might have been the sharp, jagged rise up to the Hawaiian Peaks. + +Verdured mountain-tops were up there, unreal, fairylike in the +moonlight, towering above the Zero-level, above the dank, evil mists of +the Lowlands; a purple sky up there, with the mountain peaks standing +into it; the stars, and the white clouds of a world serene. We avoided +the heights. I had even fancied I saw the lights of a plane up there. + +We stopped at the Gian encampment--I think about the time it was first +discovered by the searching earth planes. None had seen us in our low, +night flights; and in the daylight stops Rhana had always chosen places +well obscured, far in the depths. + + * * * * * + +We made a second flight--the one to the Highlands of Australia--where +first the earth saw us. Nereid and I were not aware of Rhana’s purpose +then; not until afterward, in the Gian encampment, did we learn it. + +I had, that second flight, a clear view of the topography of the +Lowlands in this section. We came from the south, that night of October +15. What had before been called the Coral Sea we saw as a great, +irregularly circular valley, a giant caldron surrounded everywhere by +the Highlands. It was empty of any expanse of water save a few mountain +torrents tumbling down its slopes or an occasional shallow lagoon, +trapped in the rocks, drying by evaporation. + +It was my studied policy now to win Rhana’s confidence. I told her +always what I could of the geography of the regions through which +we flew. The caldron of the Coral Sea barred us dangerously by its +Highlands. I turned us northeast. At a depression of perhaps a thousand +feet beneath the Zero-level we passed to the right of the Solomon rise +and came again over the lower levels of an open abyss. + +We stayed high. I think now that what might be termed the “ocean level” +was down fifteen or twenty thousand feet below Zero. Certainly I saw no +evidence of the sea here. The Japan Trench might still be full. I did +not doubt but that the great Nero Deep off Guam was still and probably +always would be a great salt lake ten thousand feet or more in depth. + +Sweeping north, we saw under us the Caroline rise coming up. We +passed through a broad valley of the Caroline Mountains. The verdured +island-tops occasionally showed. I did not know it then, but since the +discovery of the Gian encampment by the world, the Carolines were +deserted by most of their inhabitants--all who could get away had +already fled. + +Beyond the mountains here, the Lowland floor again sank. A broken, +desolate plain lay down there, blurred with rising mist. We crossed +it; and soon it began rising again to the ridge we now call the Moon +Mountains. None rose nearly to the Zero-level. A volcanic region, +starkly grim with its inky black shadows, and weird patches of +moonlight that sometimes filtered down. + +It lay strewn like wreckage; here, undoubtedly, some great cataclysm of +nature had in by-gone ages convulsed it, leaving the strewn crags and +bowlders; pits like black holes, roundly punched by some giant finger; +precipitous cliffs; ravines, narrow and deep. + +But the whole, from this southern approach, was steadily rising. On the +top of the ridge, still many thousands of feet below Zero, the Gians +were encamped. Porous, honeycombed volcanic mountains these were, like +a great oblong sponge, perched here. They contained caves, grottos, +passages and tunnels of every size and character--a vast catacomb. + +It lay, I think, some thirty miles in east and west extent along the +top of the ridge; and ten miles north and south. Beyond it, northward, +the mountains and the catacombs ended in a descending northward slope a +hundred miles over a broken floor to where the Middge at a still lower +level, were intrenched. + +The grottos, as I first saw them, presented a darkly sinister, wholly +unearthly scene. They held fifty thousand of the gray Gians. Already +it had the appearance of a fantastic underground city. Hundreds of the +dark caverns were occupied by men, women and children in crude interior +shelters. But work was going on. Small stone houses were being built. +Lights were erected. The openings to the upper air--this was all near +the surface--were shaded against the periods of daylight. A scene of +sputtering lights, grotesque shadows--unearthly. + +A subterranean stream of fresh water had been found. The Gians seemed +well supplied with food. There was a cavern of war equipment. The army +was organized--an army of men, drilled and led by the women. There was +a broad passage that rose to the outer air in which I saw three other +aëros such as the one Rhana was using. + + * * * * * + +I slept in a newly-built, small stone house, always closely guarded. +Nereid was with two of the Gian women. The encampment slept during the +daylight periods. There were guards then, with heavily shaded glasses, +at all the many upward passages. In the night, the activity went on. + +Neither Nereid nor I were able to learn many details. No one would talk +to us, except occasionally Rhana. And our pseudo-liberty was always +closely watched. + +I wondered what could be the plans of these Gian women against +our great nations. I could imagine, once our existence here was +discovered, that the earth armies could drive us out of these grottos +and exterminate us. Yet there was about these women an aspect of +confidence. Was it ignorance of what our civilized millions could do in +warfare? What weapons did these Gians have to make them so confident? + +I said once to Rhana: “If you want me to help you--why not tell me your +own plans? These nations you are going to conquer are very powerful.” + +She told me abruptly. I sat, speechless, stricken, and stared at her. +Ah, the warfare of our civilized millions! I could see now how readily +it might go down into defeat against this enemy inhuman! Spreading +broadcast a fatal, incurable, uncontrollable disease! + +She did not seem to notice my horror. She told me many things of the +past; how long the Gians had planned this; how, when a year ago the +gates had been opened a trifle, she had thought to come with her army +up through the water. That menace at Maui, which we had seen from the +Dolphin. But she had found it impractical--and had planned this present +method. + +It was the longest talk I ever had with Rhana. It was, I think, about +the night of October 17. Nereid interrupted us. She came, forcing her +guards to let her join us, vehemently protesting as they tried to hold +her. + +Rhana frowned. “You make a disturbance?” She said it in English; and +Nereid answered the same way. + +“I do not! They tried to hold me. I--I have communicated with some one +I know--she--” + +“That girl you call Polly?” + +“Yes.” + +I was on my feet. “Nereid! Think what you say!” + +But her swift glance reassured me. She was careful. + +She said: “Yes, I have reached her. She has been trying to reach me.” + +There had never been, I knew, an hour when Nereid had not been flinging +her thoughts toward Polly. And now, at last, Polly’s thoughts--a +message--had come clearly back. The world was alarmed. The authorities +wanted--before they attacked this enemy--to talk about it. Polly was +trying to arrange a meeting. The United States proposed to send an +unarmed plane with a white banner of truce to a designated place over +the Lowlands. + +I could visualize it. I had met our kindly, earnest President. I +knew well his ideals, his aspirations to instill in humanity that +unselfishness, that altruism it never has had, and never will. I knew +also his closest friend, the gray-haired British minister. And the +Anglo-Saxon director of foreign relations. + +I could imagine these three--highest types of our great +civilization--in conference now over this sudden menace. I could +imagine them saying: “These people are human like ourselves. +Misguided, that is all. Why should they attack us in this fiendish +fashion? Why force us to make war upon them?” + +Unanswerable arguments of idealism! The earth with all these new +Lowlands, had room for all. Why should one or another set of humans +strive to kill, or to be killed? Unanswerable. + + * * * * * + +Rhana listened quietly. “So? They are frightened? They fear me already? +That is good. Can you still talk with them, Nereid?” + +“Yes. I think so. I will try--if you will meet them.” + +“Of course, child. Tell them what they wish shall be done.” + +Calm, impressive, gray face. That hawklike profile, impassive, +unruffled. “Tell them, Nereid, I will do what they wish. I am glad I +have you now.” She just barely smiled. “You and Jeff will go with me to +this meeting--you are a good interpreter with your flying thoughts.” + +She made no effort to keep me from Nereid. “Tell me when you have +arranged it.” She strode away. + +“Nereid, is that true what you have told her?” + +“Yes.” + +“But not Polly--Polly isn’t coming? Tell her and Dr. Plantet not to +come. No use. Why, Nereid, she might hold them here--keep Polly away +from here.” + +“The foreign director will come. Oh, Jeff, do you think it will be of +any use? I want it to be. I pray--I have prayed so much--to my God--to +Arturo’s whom he told me about--which is the same God.” + +She sat beside me. Poor little Nereid! The struggles through which we +had passed; the murder of her father--her people lost with their doomed +realm; the long fight to get upward into the daylight--it all had +changed her. She was pale and wan; always trembling, eager, earnest, +pathetically anxious to be of help. + +We were, for this moment, quite alone. She put her hand on my arm. + +“Jeff--I was thinking of Arturo. I have tried to reach him, but I +cannot. I wanted you to know. Did you know I love Arturo?” + +“Why, yes, Nereid.” + +“I think he loves me. We have never spoken of it. I just wanted to say +that if--if you ever get back to Arturo, safe out of all this--” + +She stammered, her voice broke, but she went on with a rush: “If you +are safe sometime with him and I--I am not, I want you just to tell him +that Nereid loved him. Will you do that? I want it very much--want him +to know what might have been for us--it seems so very beautiful, what +might be.” + +Dear little Nereid! I said quietly: “You are coming safely through it, +Nereid. Don’t think things like that.” + +She sighed. “Sometimes I wonder. You will tell him?” + +“Yes. I will. But it’s nonsense!” + +I met her eyes. They had always seemed eyes with the green mystery and +romance of the sea in them. I had thought of that often; there was no +sea in the abyss of the Mound. I had spoken of it--her love for the +water--the way she swam. There was a river, by the City of the Mound, +and all the joy of her girlhood was found in its murmuring water. + +And now the sea was gone from our world up here. But still, she could +have a river. I met her eyes. The sea was gone from them now as it +was from our world. Its dancing light; the sparkle that Arturo had +described as she swam for him those first nights in the pool of the +island cave. Her eyes were worn and dark now with trouble, sorrow, +apprehension. + +“I’ll tell him, Nereid. But it’s nonsense, because you’ll tell him +yourself.” + +I pictured, while she clung to me, our beautiful world of stars and +moonlight for her and Arturo. “You shall live by a river, little +Nereid--sparkling silver water with the moonlight on it. You and +Arturo.” + +And the wistful thought was in my mind: “And you, Jeff Grant, with +Polly!” + + * * * * * + +I have read of those ancient times when a party of explorers often was +stranded and lost in the unknown polar wastes. Two or three of its +members, sometimes, would leave the others, and try, desperately to +reach civilization. So it was with Tad and Arturo, there in the Middge +camp after Nereid and I had so mysteriously disappeared in the night. +They waited for a time, hoping for our return. But we did not come. +Food and water were giving out. The Middge soon would be in desperate +plight. + +With Nereid out there as interpreter, Arturo and Tad had difficulty +talking with the Middge leaders. And soon they began feeling like +outsiders, aliens. The Middge were busy with their activities, but +Arturo and Tad were made to feel that they were not wanted in that +grotto where the war equipment was being assembled. + +“They seem resentful of us,” said Arturo. “I don’t understand it.” +Resentful, almost suspicious. + +But Tad thought it perhaps natural enough. Their desperate position in +this inhospitable world of the Lowlands. + +“And don’t forget,” said Tad, “the first thing that happened here. Down +comes a bomb and kills a dozen or so of them. Our people did that to +them, Arturo. How would you feel?” + +With the recurring daily periods of blinding daylight the Middge seemed +disinclined to venture from the caves. But Tad and Arturo were aware +that they had sent an exploring party back underground. + +There came a day, while the camp was sleeping, that Arturo and Tad +decided to leave it. If they could reach civilization, they would send +help back. They made packs of a few belongings; a supply of food and +water. They slipped quietly away; out to the mouth of their cave; +clambered down the slope into the desolate barren wastes. + + * * * * * + +“Tad, look! Look up there!” + +They had been wandering for several days and nights--covered with ooze +and slime now, torn and bleeding with stumbling, falling on the rocks. +How far they had gone they had no idea; traveling, they calculated, +generally eastward. There were a few island mountain-tops, they +thought, between here and the great Marshall Rise. It was soon not a +journey, but a desperate wandering, with mountain streams to avoid; +cliffs to descend, to climb again when the valley laboriously had been +crossed; mud, sometimes like quicksand, upon which they crawled. Dank, +hot days, often with blinding sunlight; dank, cold nights with the +black noisome fog settling around them. + +Arturo was burning with fever now. They were both gaunt, haggard. + +“Tad, look! Look up there!” + +It seemed about sunset, though of that they could never be sure. +The sun was gone down behind some distant upstanding rim. There was +sunlight on the white clouds of the heights, but in the abyss the deep +purple shadows of night had long since gathered. There was sunlight +still on the distant domes; a waterfall, halfway down, gleamed like a +white veil; but the crags and tumbled land beneath it were grim and +dark. + +Tad and Arturo stood gazing up into the fading daylight. A white-winged +plane was slowly circling, up near the Zero-level and five miles or so +north of them. It came nearer, like a great white bird, soaring. The +sunlight up there edged it with yellow and red. A long white banner +streamed from it, waving with its forward motion. Silent, soaring white +bird, it circled, and went slowly back northward. + +The mists of the Lowlands were not yet gathered. The scene was clear +to Tad and Arturo as they stood down on the dark floor. Breathless, +awe-struck; a silent drama was beginning up there. + +The plane with the white banner was alone. But far above it, off in the +northern distance, a speck showed close under the white clouds, several +thousand feet above the Zero-level. A speck; another earth plane, +taking no part--like Arturo and Tad, just watching. + +For a time the white banner of truce circled alone. And then, as the +night gathered and deepened, another shape appeared, wingless, long and +narrow, and gray-white. + +The sunlight soon was gone up there, the yellow glow merged to the +silver of the moon--a full moon, still below the eastern horizon of +the Lowlands. But it caught and painted with its silver the fluttering +white banner; the narrow, wingless aëro glowed in it, unreal as a ghost. + +The two white shapes neared each other. The wingless aëro stopped dead, +poised. The white banner, fluttering its peace offering, its message of +humanity, approached slowly. + +Tad and Arturo stood gazing, breathless. Then suddenly stricken. Why, +what was this! What--What--They stared, unbelieving, clutching each +other. + +Drama, tragedy, so silent up there in the moonlight over the darkly +spreading wastes of the abyss! + +They stared. And presently when it was over, they started forward, +running. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIV. + + THE CRIMSON RAINBOW. + + +“You shall interpret for me, child Nereid, if we wish to talk at a +distance.” Rhana stood before us. “And you, Jeff Grant, are you ready? +You shall see me, the great woman conqueror!” + +She was garbed rather differently now. At first I did not understand +the reason. Ah, but I was soon to know! The same sheathlike body +shield; same type of cloak; same grotesque metal headdress. But on her +gray bare limbs a strip of flexible metal was fastened, hinged at the +knee to bend as she walked; a metal plate like a broad collar was on +her neck and shoulders. The chains that usually dangled from her wrists +were gone. Along her arms, as on her legs, were strips of gray metal, +wound, it seemed, with tiny white wire. + +She stood regarding me with impassive face. “You are ready, Jeff Grant?” + +“Yes.” + +She moved away. I thought as she walked, that her arms were joined to +her body-shield by folds of black fabric. + +It was late afternoon. Against the fading daylight Rhana wore +dark-lensed glasses. She offered a pair to me, but I refused them. She +adjusted a pair on Nereid. Strange woman! Impassive, expressionless +now; calmly imperturbable. Yet within her there was that obvious +vanity. I should see her triumph; she wished even Nereid to witness it. + +We boarded the aëro. A crowd of Gian women stood silently in the +passage and watched us off. We lifted gently; moved forward, up and +into the afternoon twilight of the Lowlands. + +We were all in the forward control room. There seemed no one aboard +save us who were here. Nereid and I, and Rhana; and two Gian women, and +two men. One of the men was Bhool. He had no glasses. He sat crouched +in a corner, shading his eyes, and did not speak. Occasionally Rhana +issued him some gruff order. He moved to obey, and stumbled in the +light. + +The others all wore the glasses. The two women were at the controls; +the other man stood alert with a weapon upon Nereid and me. + +The control room was about twenty feet square and ten feet high to its +curved cabin roof. It occupied the full width of the aëro, except for +the narrow deck which flanked it on both sides. There were several wide +transparent window panes. + +Looking forward to where the bowsprit glowed luminous ahead of us was a +broad streamline window, V-shaped. + +The controls were there on a table--a row of small switches and +domelike buttons, with an array of strange instruments of navigation on +a board over them. + +To one side, in the front pane, a projector was mounted, a bowl-like +black projector with a grid of wires across its face. Its mechanism +stood separate on a table near it--a range-finder like a small +telescope swung in a universal; dials, and levers, and a coil, with +wires to a storage tank that lay along the wall. + +It was a short flight--we had not far to go. My heart was unreasonably +pounding as I sat by Nereid, watching and waiting. The details of the +meeting had been carefully arranged; there could be, Nereid was sure, +no error. A lone, unarmed plane with a white banner to meet us at the +Zero-level. The foreign minister would take off from it in a small +helicopter and descend to us. He would come aboard, at Rhana’s mercy, +trusting to her honor. + +The world would offer every conciliation to her; land should be hers, +for her people to live here in our world, at peace with us. There would +be, when the meeting took place, another earth plane in the far upper +distance. It would carry Dr. Plantet, Polly and a corps of observers +with a telescopic image-finder by which our world would see in the +mirrors this friendly meeting. Propaganda to insure a friendly public +spirit, so that the new race could come and settle and be welcomed. + +Nereid had been very earnest. “Do you understand all that I say?” + +And Rhana had said: “Yes, of course,” with impassive face and a tone +devoid of any feeling. + + * * * * * + +We flew away from the setting sun, upward in a long slant toward the +Zero-level. The control room was silent. Rhana sat alone to one side. +Bhool crouched in a corner. The two Gian women were intent at their +instruments. Near the center of the room Nereid and I sat together, +with our guard watching us. + +The windows were broad and clear. The abyss moved past us, their gaunt, +rounded cliffs moving backward and dropping away as we mounted. To the +west, high above our level, a golden glow marked the setting sun. It +was behind us, and we faced a silver night, moonlight streaming above +the dark elevations in the murky distance. + +Occasionally Nereid would whisper to me. “It will be all right, Jeff?” +A hope, a prayer. But I noticed that she was very watchful, her gaze +roving the cabin, remarking all its details. + +Once Rhana turned. “Nereid, child, do you hear from them now?” + +“No. But I am sure they are coming.” + +At last we saw ahead of us, a thousand or two thousand feet above us, +the plane with its streaming banner. It circled like a giant bird, +with motionless outspread wings. The gold of the sun and the silver of +the rising moon mingled upon it. But the yellow faded; it soon turned +silver, ghostlike. + +An added tenseness had come to all of us in the cabin. The goggled +women at the controls looked questioningly for Rhana’s orders. Our +flight slackened; we hovered, with the plane almost over us. Its banner +fluttered, a long silver streamer in the moonlight. The shadows of the +abyss gathered beneath us; the cabin, to my eyes, was dim; moonlight +came in the side windows and lay in white liquid pools on the floor; it +bathed the control table; it etched with silver lines the dark figures +of the two women sitting watchfully there. + +We were evidently just beneath the Zero-level; the abyss was a dark +void some ten or twelve thousand feet down to an undulating rocky +floor. I gazed up at the cabin ceiling. Through the transparent pane +there I could see the plane with its white banner. Slowly circling, +evidently making ready to put out its helicopter. + +Nereid whispered: “Did you see the newscasters’ aëro, as they call it?” + +“Yes.” + +I had seen it, indeed. The plane carrying Polly. It could still be +seen--a tiny dark speck up in the distant silver sky. Nereid said aloud +to Rhana: + +“There is the aërocar watching us.” Her voice was earnest, tense, +vibrating with her emotion. “You see it off there? This world watching +us, great Rhana--to see your friendly greeting--to welcome you--” + +Rhana moved toward us in the shadows with her soundless, catlike tread. +“So? Yes, I see it. You say they have instruments to see us clearly +from such a distance? That is very good.” Her tone was emotionless. + +She moved away like a gray shadow. For a moment I did not notice her. +My attention was fixed on the ghostly outlines of the plane over us. +It bore now a small light; in the glow I saw the helicopter in its +bracket; the figure of the kindly gray-haired foreign director--I +recalled him well--showed in the helicopter seat. + +My heart stopped, and then wildly plunged. Incredible, this that I was +seeing! From our cabin a light sprang upward. It glowed, narrowed to +a beam. It caught the plane up there. The fluttering white banner of +truce shriveled and burned. The plane rocked. It tilted; rocked and +swayed in the grip of the light. + +Incredible! I was on my feet with Nereid clinging to me in stupefied +horror. The Gian man sprang, a gray menacing shadow in the gloom of +the cabin--sprang and crouched between me and Rhana. His weapon was +leveled upon me. Rhana was bending tense over the projector mechanism. +It hissed, snapped and hummed with its current. + +The plane up there was rocking, struggling in the grip of the beam like +a wounded bird. Coming down. + +It only lasted an instant. Then Rhana snapped off the light. I stared, +transfixed with horror. The silver shape of the plane swayed crazily. +It was on fire; red tongues of flame licked at it. The light sprang +again; caught it; tilted it over--left it. The plane flopped in an arc, +righted, and flopped again. At our level now. Then below us. With its +crazy swoops the red-yellow flames streamed from it. + +Down--then I saw it whirl in a dive. A red-flaming torch, dropping, +spinning downward with a line of flame and smoke like a tail streaming +above it. Down--dwindling as it fell into the abyss. A tiny red spot +down in the darkness--a flaming falling torch. A soundless impact down +there, with a faint red glow where it lay. + + * * * * * + +In the dark tenseness of our cabin Rhana’s voice rang out. Triumphant +now. “You see, Jeff Grant, how Rhana rules this world?” + +A minute. It had taken no more than a minute. Sixty seconds is +sometimes an eternity. I stood confused, my senses groping with the +shock of these whirling events. + +“Oh, Jeff!” Nereid’s voice; her hand plucking to turn me. I saw through +the side window, far off to the west where the sun had been golden, +but now there was only the purple night--saw a white flare puff like a +bomb. The Gian encampment was off there. + +Rhana’s voice came sharply. “What is that?” + +It was no Gian light-flare. She was surprised, and she rasped: “What is +that?” + +It caught little Nereid; confused with horror, she blurted: “The earth +attacking you--you have broken faith!” + +And then there was a red-yellow spot like a bursting shell in the +distant darkness. It seemed, after an interval, that we could hear very +faintly in the heavy air of the abyss, the muffled explosion. + +“You--have broken faith--” + +Amazement swept Rhana; amazement and a dawning wild anger. “Attacking? +Your earth dares attack--me?” She stood half crouching behind the Gian +man whose weapon was still levied at Nereid and me. “Attacking?” The +moonlight caught her hawklike gray face, showed it distorted now with +fury. “So? I will show them! Why, there will be millions of them dead +in another day--” + +She straightened; issued swift orders to the women at the controls. +Our aëro began rising. My thoughts whirled. Sixty seconds. It had +been enough time for that watching plane to radio Washington; and for +Washington to order its army, already assembled in the abyss, to the +attack. Another red explosion showed off there. + +We were rising swiftly. I whispered: “Nereid, what is she going to do?” + +“She--oh, Jeff, she’ll rush to the Highlands, find some great city, +loose the disease broadcast, pollute your great cities!” + +To-night, in one flight, spread death over the world. Thoughts are +swift-flying things. The red spot in the abyss where the plane had +fallen was still almost beneath us. Nereid was whispering to me +vehemently, but my thoughts flew afield. + +The observing plane with Polly and Dr. Plantet could never follow our +nearly thousand-mile-an-hour flight. A few hours in the moonlight over +the Highlands, loosing the germs of that foul disease, polluting the +air of our great cities! It would sweep our continents. What use if, in +her demoniac, unreasoning fury, Rhana was finally brought down? What +if our attacking army back there were able to annihilate the Gians? +They would drive the Gians out of the grottos in a few days, no doubt. +What of it? An uncontrollable plague would be sweeping our world, +bringing death to millions. + +But what was Nereid saying? Her vehement whispers penetrated my +consciousness; her fingers were digging into my arm. + +“That little coil, there at the edge of the control table--you see it? +I can get to it with a sudden leap. I know what that coil controls. If +I could tear it with my fingers--” + +The confusion of my thoughts dropped away. Death? There is a calmness +comes to one who finds death at hand. It seemed that all my thoughts +were sharpening--all my senses sharp and clear to hear Nereid’s +whispered words of death. + +“--tear it, rip it away. It controls the current in the side pontoons, +Jeff. If I break it, we will fall. You see? Fall the way the plane +fell--kill us all.” + +Was the burning plane still almost beneath us? An eternity passed in +these few whispering seconds. + + * * * * * + +“I’ll jump at the table, Jeff. You leap on the guard. He’ll fire at +you--he’ll forget me. You see?” + +“Nereid--death, now?” + +“Yes. We’ll fall--but Jeff, those millions of people!” + +Death? Why, Polly was in that distant plane--Polly! I would never see +her again. + +“Death, Nereid? You are right. Those millions of people or just us.” + +“Arturo--and your Polly--will remember us.” + +Her fingers seemed pressing a good-by. I answered it. Polly’s face was +shining in my mind. Good-by, Polly-- + +“Jeff, when I start to move, you leap. Now--” + +“You wait, Nereid! A second after the guard has come after me! Your +best chance then.” + +The figure of Bhool had come crouching toward us. He shouted a warning: +“Rhana!” + +It may have distracted the guard. A rush of confusion was in the +moonlit cabin. I leaped low at the guard’s legs; the upward desperate +sweep of my arm struck his weapon; its stab missed me. Nereid’s leap +landed her at the control table. The two women and Rhana were upon her; +but her frantic clutching hands ripped and tore at the little coil. +The cabin seemed to lurch; the shafts of moonlight swayed. Through the +windows the abyss was turning over. + +We were falling, irrevocably. Every one in the cabin knew it. Death! +The strife among us ceased abruptly; the women cast Nereid away and +Bhool gave a long piercing scream of terror. + +Falling. + +But I saw Rhana spread her arms. Black folds of fabric hung like wings +from them to her body. The metal strips on her limbs and her metal +collar glowed green with a current in them. She flung open the door, +gripping its casement to steady herself. I heard her words clearly. “So +you wish death, you fools!” + +Realization swept me. She wore a device like the pontoons of this +aëro to protect her, as a parachute once protected the old-fashioned +aviator. She was on the deck. + +I recall snatching up Nereid, then leaped with her and caught Rhana +at the rail. We three went over into the uprushing void. Rhana was +struggling silently, and her arms flapped like a frantic bird. The wind +rushed up at us. An endless fall. Momentarily I was aware of a gray +shape like an arrow plunging past. A muffled, splintering crash came +from below, where the aëro lay, mangled metal upon the rocks. + +Rhana fought to cast me off, but I was far stronger. My arm was crooked +about her throat, and I held Nereid with the other. The glowing metal +on Rhana burned against my flesh. We fell--a fluttering gray bird with +two enemies clinging to it, pulling it down with their weight. Rhana’s +fingers tore at me futilely. I tightened my grip about her throat. I +think I recall a crack. Rhana went limp. + +A black surface of rock rushed up at us and struck us. + + * * * * * + +“Jeff! Come back to me.” Soft, whispered, woman’s voice; soft arms were +holding me. “Jeff, dear--please!” + +I struggled back to consciousness as though from an emptiness remote. +This was Polly’s voice; these were her arms. I murmured: “Polly, dear?” + +There was a dark confusion around me; but in the midst of it I lay +and knew that I was unhurt. And Polly was here, with me at last. Dr. +Plantet was examining me; he said I was unharmed. I remembered Nereid. + +“Polly, where is she?” + +Then Dr. Plantet’s voice: “She’s all right, Jeff. Here she is.” + +And Nereid’s voice: “Is he safe? I--I was afraid it had killed him.” + +All like a dream. My head was whirling with it, and my ears roared. But +I found myself sitting up, with Polly helping me. Dark rocks; heavy +air, making me gasp. Grim dark shadows, but the moonlight hung a great +silver canopy far overhead. + +Other figures were here, and Dr. Plantet’s plane stood near by. Its +engine smoked; its navigators were moving about it anxiously. A red +glow a mile away showed where the other plane had fallen. And nearer, +there was a tangled mass of gray-white metal. Rhana’s aëro. + +“No one left in it alive,” said some one. “We’ve been there.” + +And Rhana--she lay here on the rocks, broken, crumpled. I did not go to +look at her. + +“Neck broken,” said Dr. Plantet. “Broken when she struck.” + +I let it pass. + +A man came up. “I don’t know if we can get up out of here with that +engine. The Allen climber is the worst type for a depth like this.” + +“We’ll start.” Dr. Plantet helped me up. “Good enough, Jeff--you’re +fine. You want to start now, Smithby--we’re ready.” + +Nereid, unhurt and gently smiling, stood before me. My body, and +perhaps Rhana’s, had broken her fall. She murmured to Polly: “We said +good-by to you and Arturo up there. I’m so glad, Jeff, it did not have +to be good-by--not for you and Polly.” + +But Arturo? + +There was a distant shout. Two figures, half a mile away, were +clambering down the rocks, shouting weakly. + +They came. Our men from the plane here rushed out to meet them, and +came back, carrying the two bloodstained, tattered figures, covered +with mud and slime. Their torn and bleeding feet were wrapped with +cloth into bulky bundles. + +Reunion. A babble of voices. I stood confused, my ears still roaring, +my legs weak from the shock of the fall. I heard Tad’s cheery, tired +voice. I saw Arturo carried past me, and glimpsed his haggard white +face, his eyes burning with fever. The man set him down. Arturo stood; +he called; and I saw Nereid run like a child into his opened arms. + + * * * * * + +One scene more--an hour later, as from the cabin of the Allen climber +we gazed down into the abyss. We had come up laboring. At the +Zero-level we soared to the west. The full moon was well above the +horizon behind us. Beneath, the Lowlands were white with patches of +moonlight, black with inky shadows. Ahead some twenty miles and a few +thousand feet down, the jagged ridge of the Moon Mountains lay white +and black, sharp-etched as a lunar landscape. + +The abyss was like a great deep bowl, rising everywhere to a dim high +horizon. To the south the tremendous slope rose toward the Carolines. +Our earth artillery had been sent there--a precautionary measure if the +truce should fail. + +We could see now the bombardment proceeding--the Essen fire-shells +rising in a tremendous hundred-mile arc, dropping, pounding the Moon +ridge; some of them releasing their gases. + +Over the ridge a covey of war-planes hung, directing the range. +Occasionally a light-flare was dropped. Bombs were dropping. We could +see them strike. The noise was like a muttering muffled thunder in the +distance. + +The Gians had evidently remained inactive. Then we saw their attacking +light-beams spring up. The planes scattered--some of them were caught. +But the slow bombardment from a hundred miles away, went methodically +on. It would take days. + +Smithby, at my elbow, babbled of the earth plans. And questioned me +avidly. + +With my information to give our authorities, we could land planes +closer; send in an army, fighting in the grottos--or perhaps the +artillery could pound this porous ridge to pieces in a week or two. + +Could the enemy retreat farther underground? We would have to stop that. + +If we could get the wind right, our gas-shells would fill those +caverns--smoke the enemy out like bees. And if we could get them out +into the daylight, blinded-- + +Nereid’s cry silenced him. “The Middge! Look!” + +From the dark northern horizon a crimson light came in a beam. Light, +or fire? A beam of something, crimson as a blood-stream. It rose from +the northern distance; like a gigantic crimson jet of fluid it arched +up and fell. An arc, huge as a rainbow--a rainbow of blood across the +void of the abyss. Its distant source we could not see; its end fell +here upon the Mountains of the Moon and drenched them with its crimson. + +The planes overhead winged away; the earth bombardment stopped. We +approached within ten miles or so, with our image-finder trained upon +the scene. + +Smithby could never forget his mission; our snapping sender flashed out +the image to be caught and relayed over the world. Hundreds of millions +of people everywhere sat tense at their mirrors watching the silent red +scene. + +Rainbow of blood-light falling upon the dark Moon Mountain ridge. A +great round pool glowing at the end of the rainbow. The mountains were +melting; as though they were molds of black and white wax under the +heat of a pressure torch, they melted. + +The rainbow end moved over, slowly traveling along the ridge, melting +it away--wax fuming, bubbling and plowing in lava streams down the +slopes. The nearer end of the ridge where first the blood-light had +struck was a depression now--a great caldron where the ridge had been; +a caldron of fused molten rock, viscous, cooling from yellow-red to red +and then to black. Along the whole length of the ridge the blood-red +rainbow sprayed its penetrating heat. + +A silent, red inferno. And presently there were dim muffled sounds as +underground gases exploded; and the hiss of the licking gas flames. + +We could feel the heat. The glare rose and painted all the sky with +blood. + +Abruptly the crimson rainbow was gone. The Moon ridge shad vanished +into a boiling trench of lava, topped by hungry licking red-green +tongues of flame, with a huge black gas-cloud, rolling up. + +The fires cooled and died. The red turned slowly black. The trench +lay naked and dead in the moonlight--fused rock cooling into shapes +fantastic. A dead, empty trench with a gray mantle of ashes sifting +down upon it, to mark where the Gians had been. + + + + + CHAPTER XXV. + + MURMURING RIVER. + + +They call this now the era of our Greater World. This year that has +passed has brought us many strange things. I am not one to recount +them--the wonders of the Lowlands, the world’s changed climate; the +struggles, the reorganization, it seems, of everything which we held to +be standard. + +There is still chaos. I could not, with authority or understanding, +write of it. I have told the rôles which I and my friends had forced +upon us, that is all. + +For those many omissions which would have made my narrative more +logically clear, I ask indulgence. + +Books, in future years, will be written upon many angles of the +subject. The science of those two races who with enmity and smoldering +strife lived in the depths of our great earth--our scientists will +attempt to picture it. But that will be futile, no doubt. The Middge +have gone. From that very night when their crimson rainbow annihilated +their enemy, they have never been seen. + +Strange race! Our scientists say that in those last days they +undoubtedly located the Gians and blasted them with a hatred born +of centuries of oppression. And then, with their exploring parties +underground finding food and water, they vanished with their weapon +into the dark realms from which they had come. They wanted nothing of +our world--feared us perhaps. + +We are an adventurous civilization. There is already talk of exploring +the depths--finding the Middge. + +There will be books of sociology written upon the strange Gian +civilization. I have no more than hinted at it. Already there is much +controversy. It has been said that Rhana was the personification of +all womanhood if given unlimited power. I think that is unjust to +womanhood. In every age and every race there have been bad men and good +men--bad women and good women. There was Rhana--and there was Nereid. + +A river flows beneath these windows of the house where Polly and I are +living. It murmurs its endless song. Arturo and Nereid are no more than +half a mile up its stream. They often come past in a boat--sometimes +swimming down, with the boat floating after them. They went past like +that this evening, just a short while ago. Polly was here with me +then--pushing aside these pages to sit with me and watch the moonlight +on the river. + +And Arturo and Nereid came swimming past. They looked up and saw us. +They waved. Nereid’s hair streamed out long and tawny in the silver +rippling water; her face was laughing as she flung up her arm toward us +and dived after Arturo. + + + THE END. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76268 *** diff --git a/76268-h/76268-h.htm b/76268-h/76268-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2616811 --- /dev/null +++ b/76268-h/76268-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9097 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The Sea Girl | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3 { + 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.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } +hr.full {width: 95%; margin-left: 2.5%; margin-right: 2.5%;} +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +x-ebookmaker-drop {display: none;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap { font-variant:small-caps; } + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +.caption p +{ + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; + margin: 0.25em 0; + font-weight: bold; +} + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +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: x-large; margin: .83em auto; } + +.ph2 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } +.ph2 { font-size: medium; margin: .83em auto; } + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76268 ***</div> + +<div class="figcenter x-ebookmaker-drop"> + <img src="images/illusc.jpg" alt=""> +</div> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<div class="titlepage"> + +<h1>The Sea Girl</h1> + +<p class="ph1">By RAY CUMMINGS</p> + +<p><i>Author of “A Brand New World,” “Beyond the Stars,” etc.</i></p> + +<p><i>Sunken ships and strange ocean changes presage the mightiest and<br> +most unaccountable threat ever made against mankind’s world.</i></p> + +<p>[Transcriber’s Note: This etext was produced from<br> +Argosy All-Story Weekly March 2, 9, 16, 23, 30, April 6, 1929]</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<p class="ph2">“<i>. . . and he lived with her in a Golden Palace at the bottom of the +sea . . .</i>”</p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>HUMAN GIRL, OR SIREN?</h3> + + +<p>The first of the mysterious sea disasters occurred in March, 1990. +It did not seem important; it was given very little publicity. A +small, old-fashioned freight vessel of some thirty thousand tons sank +in mid-Pacific with the loss of all on board. The ship, which in its +day must have been accounted a luxurious passenger liner, had, years +ago, been converted to the freight trade, and its weirdly elaborate +superstructure long since dismantled. Bound from San Francisco to +the Island ports and Dutch East India with a cargo of manufactured +foodstuffs for the eastern island markets, it had sunk unexpectedly, +and for no apparent cause, at fifteen N degrees and one hundred and +sixty-five degrees E, northwest of the Marshall Group.</p> + +<p>As it happened, I was among the first to receive the call of distress. +My name is Geoffry Grant. I was twenty-two years old, that spring of +1990. They say that ours is the generation of youthful achievement; +even so, I think I had done fairly well, for I was chief officer then, +second in command of the largest vessel of the Sub-Pacific Freighters. +Our line was newly established to supersede the ancient surface vessels +whose passengers were nearly all traveling by air.</p> + +<p>We were in fourteen degrees N and one hundred and sixty-five degrees +twenty minutes E, on the return voyage, with Honolulu our next port of +call, running in the thirty fathom lane, when the distress signal from +so near at hand reached us. It was very nearly midnight. The surface +was wholly calm; the night darkly overcast with a pallid moon. We had +been up at 9 <span class="smcap">p.m.</span> answering an emergency call from one of +the great passenger liners flying west. We had hung at the surface +for nearly an hour, waiting for them to come along, and another hour +pumping up to them the needed fuel. My superior was disgruntled. It put +us late for our connections at the Hawaiians; and with our schedule +demanding fifty knots there was little chance of us making it up.</p> + +<p>I was sitting off duty, in my cabin that midnight, listening to young +Arturo Plantet drooling on his violin. He was our only passenger. +A queer character, this boy; wholly different, physically and +temperamentally, from myself, and yet between us there existed a real +affection. I am a blond, husky six-footer. Arturo, who at this time was +just turned eighteen, was shorter, and almost girlishly frail.</p> + +<p>I once heard his father, in a moment of exasperation, call him a +neurotic. He was not that; he seemed indeed always perfectly healthy, +with steady normal nerves. But in this world of youthful practicality, +Arturo was miscast. Apparently he cared not at all for achievement. He +was a dreamer by temperament, rather than a doer. Of sharpened, poetic +sensibilities, he seemed content to live in a world of fancy of his own +creating, watching our busy, bustling realities pass him by. A pale, +romantic-looking boy, his face beautiful rather than handsome; dark, +lustrous, expressive eyes, with heavy girlish lashes; a mouth large, +with sensitive girlish lips, and a shock of raven-black, wavy hair.</p> + +<p>Yet there was nothing effeminate about Arturo Plantet. His firm chin +saved him from that. His voice was soft, yet strongly masculine. I +have seen his big eyes fill up with unbidden tears at a jibe from his +father; but he was never petulant, and when angered or hurt, a very +manly dignity sat upon him.</p> + +<p>Nor was he lacking in a manly physical courage. He cared nothing for +athletics. He could have been, I am sure, a champion swimmer—he seemed +to take to the water naturally, and swam and dived like a little +dolphin; but he would not train, nor enter any contests; he disdained +them. But I remember that when he was fifteen, his older sister, Polly, +was once endangered in the rapids of a Canadian stream. Against all +reason Arturo leaped into it and saved her, with a resulting broken leg +and arm.</p> + +<p>Such was Arturo Plantet, who now sat in my cabin with his interminable +violin. He was always very silent; often I wondered what fancies were +drifting behind those brooding dark eyes. This ineffectual dreamer!</p> + +<p>Yet our busy, practical world of science—so far removed from +dreams—was destined soon to be plunged into a turmoil with Arturo +playing a leading, if unknown and unappreciated part. Strange +commentary! And I think that I am not wholly without a strain of +romance myself, for it affects me strongly to look back upon it.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>He glanced up at me. “That’s very pretty, Jeff, don’t you think so?”</p> + +<p>“What? Oh, yes, I suppose so. Aren’t you going to bed, Arturo? That +accursed liner—I don’t know why they can’t guard against things like +that—puts us two hours late. We’ll be fully that long making Pearl +Harbor. The old man’s furious.”</p> + +<p>“Is he? I say, this is a fugue of my own invention, Jeff. Listen how I +weave in the two voices.”</p> + +<p>I rang up our chief engineer to see what he thought of the chances; +it would be too bad, on this our third voyage, to be late. The London +office would score us.</p> + +<p>“Wait a minute, Arturo, shut that damn thing off—”</p> + +<p>And then Randall came running down the passage outside. I caught his +words: “The Malaysia’s sinking! We’re nearest to her—”</p> + +<p>The old man rang my bell; I was ordered up to the control tower. +Randall was telling some one in the passage: “That finishes our +schedule, all right; we’ll be all night on this job.”</p> + +<p>Arturo followed me. “What’s the Malaysia?”</p> + +<p>“Surface vessel,” Randall called after us. “An old roamer. She’s +sinking, they don’t know why. Piled to the funnels with cargo; she’ll +go down like a stone. They ought to keep those old traps in the +rivers—”</p> + +<p>“Where is she?”</p> + +<p>He told us. Less than a degree and a half away, north by west, well off +our course. Already we were swinging, and mounting to the surface.</p> + +<p>Arturo stuck to my elbow. He was always unobtrusive. The old man +allowed him the run of the ship, partly because he liked the boy, +and also because of Dr. Plantet’s influence and the considerable +investment he had made when our line was financed.</p> + +<p>Arturo was excited and awed. The sea held for him a curious +fascination. It did for me also, but in a wholly different way. To me +the sea was primarily a world of mechanisms; of mathematical charts, +schedules to be maintained; a scientific business to be handled with +skillful exactitude.</p> + +<p>To Arturo it seemed still to be a world of fairy romance, or a mighty +monster in its anger. To his eyes its surface still held scudding ships +of ancient fashion; argosies sailing hopefully over the storm-lashed +waves toward unknown shining harbors. Or, again, his fancy saw a realm +of monsters, hideous, fearsome things of the deeps, coming up to +frighten the sturdy mariners of old; or oceanids disporting themselves +on the beaches of desert islands; sirens with soft luring voices. +Or sea horses, racing the Ægean waves with the car of Poseidon. A +fairy world of dreams. To him our throbbing steel mechanisms were the +unrealities, the anachronisms.</p> + +<p>He was wildly excited now at the shipwreck call. But there was nothing +to see; nothing to hear. The one hurried signal that Randall had picked +up was the last.</p> + +<p>We reached the scene and cruised the surface. A litter of wreckage +floating in a wan moonlight on an oily sea. We dived as far as +we dared. But even under our brilliant lights there was nothing +significant to be seen. The Malaysia had gone on down. We were not far +from the Marshall ridge here, but there were still several thousand +fathoms down to this floor of the great Pacific basin. The Malaysia had +gone, and we could not follow her.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>This was the first of the many queer things that happened that spring +and summer of 1990. I find them difficult to set down in any logical +sequence, for at the time they seemed to have no logic. There were +several other unaccountable sea disasters to surface vessels. A whaler, +with its attendant searching wasp planes loaded on its landing stage, +was cruising south of the Aleutians, coming back to Skagway. It never +reached there—never was heard from again. As though in the old days, +before any of the aërial or underwater communications were perfected, +it merely vanished.</p> + +<p>Again, there was another old roamer like the Malaysia. It was at +fifteen degrees N, south of the Hawaiians. It sent out one startled +call: “Sinking—no reason.” It was gone before help could reach it. +And, like the Malaysia, none of its lifeboats were found, no life +rafts; none of its safety devices put to any use; no single person +found alive or dead upon the scene of its sinking.</p> + +<p>There was at first little newspaper or radio comment. The public news +organizations were engrossed with the “Yellow Peril” complications. +The Yellow War, so recently passed, had its aftermath of bitterness, +mingled with the cupidity which was rapidly forcing a renewal of +commerce. The “mysterious sea disasters” passed with a cursory comment.</p> + +<p>The air lines made more of them. In April, the great Trans-Pacific +Aircraft Corporation began a broadcasted inquiry into the dangers of +ocean travel. It was propaganda solely; and suddenly several of the +world governments shut down upon it.</p> + +<p>The subject, quite naturally, was of vital interest to our company. +There were two vessels lost in March; two in April; and in May no +less than six. All surface ships, slow, old-fashioned freighters, +food-laden. And, what interested us most, all were lost in the Pacific, +or its fringing seas.</p> + +<p>By this time there would normally have been a very great world comment. +I wondered why there was not, and did not dream until afterward that +by April the whole subject was under strict government censorship, +with all publicity forbidden.</p> + +<p>By May, the surface lines were gradually withholding their Pacific +sailings. Our line was rushed, overloaded with business. There was, +with us, considerable official perturbation. I knew it, though we +were strictly forbidden aboard ship to mention it. Our directors +were frightened, especially when Lloyds and the Amalgamated Marine +Underwriters raised our insurance, though as yet no submersible +anywhere had met with disaster, or even with any unusual occurrence.</p> + +<p>And then, in June, one of our largest vessels, sister ship of the one +on which I had my post, left Guam and, apparently, headed into the Nero +Deep and stayed there! It brought consternation to us all. I was ashore +at the time, visiting Dr. Plantet with Arturo and Polly in their home +on the Maine coast. A radio came to me from our New York office; my +ship would sail once more, and then be laid up until further notice.</p> + +<p>With these events from March to June, there were intermingled +throughout the world a hundred others which afterward I was to realize +as significant. But they did not seem so at the time.</p> + +<p>An unusual volcanic activity was reported almost simultaneously +from several different quarters. Etna burst forth with a cloud of +steam; harmless; unexplained—a puzzle to the scientists. Fuji, so +long dormant, began rumbling, threw Japan into a panic, flung up a +cloud of smoke and gas which whitened into steam. The craters of the +Hawaiians were everywhere steaming. The geysers of Western America were +abnormally powerful in their action; the New Zealand hot springs were +suddenly, unnaturally active.</p> + +<p>An earthquake occurred under the mid-Atlantic; a wave of tidal +proportions inundated the coasts of Africa and the Americas.</p> + +<p>Scores of such reports following one upon the heels of the other +from widely scattered localities indicated a general, unexplainable +disturbance of nature. A wind storm out of season; rainfall in another +quarter, unduly severe. Rivers were too high, or abnormally low. And +the tides were wrong; countless small news dispatches, even back at the +beginning of 1990, mentioned the surprising abnormality of local tides.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>None of it was significant of anything; like a puzzle wherein one +fits together odd pieces, with the key piece missing. The tides, +they said—I quote the words of one popular newscaster of scientific +matters: “The tides are all wrong. The moon must have become a lunatic. +The astronomers had better look into the matter.”</p> + +<p>The tides, if one cared to summarize all the various conflicting +reports, were everywhere disturbed; too high a flow; too low an ebb. +Everywhere they were growing steadily lower. Harbors and channels +were losing depth. Reefs and bars and harbor shoals, which last year +were covered at high water, this year were never covered. High tides +everywhere were not quite high enough, while low tides, all over the +world, were breaking all previous records.</p> + +<p>By June there was much comment on this. Most of it, outside of shipping +circles, was jocular. What of it? The age of air was upon us; who cared +what the water was doing, except possibly the fishermen?</p> + +<p>Had there been no censorship, authentic scientific analysis of +conditions would very soon have stopped all levity. It did stop, on +July 18, when Dr. Plantet prevailed upon the world governments to make +the matter fully public.</p> + +<p>That last voyage of mine in June was without incident, save one. It was +witnessed only by myself and Arturo; one occurrence, most significant +of all that had preceded it. Arturo had made half a dozen voyages with +me. He loved the sea. He would have none of air travel, nor surface +sailing; but the sub-sea seemed to hold a lure for him. Hours at a time +he would sit by my elbow at the tower window, gazing forward into the +glow of our headlight.</p> + +<p>I wondered why Dr. Plantet let him go on this last voyage, which, at +best, seemed hazardous. I was not present in their Maine coast home +when Arturo parted from his father and Polly; but when he and I left +the Continental Air-Liner at San Francisco and boarded my ship, Arturo +made one comment:</p> + +<p>“Father wants me to stay in the tower with you all I can, Jeff. He is +fearfully interested in this thing—how much so, well you’ll know when +we get back. He’s worried; so very busy!”</p> + +<p>I too had seen a change in Dr. Plantet these last months; a harassed +look, a gray, haggard aspect of worry, or perhaps overwork. Though what +he, a retired surgeon of forty-five, a student of oceanography as his +chosen hobby, would be working at, I could no more than guess.</p> + +<p>Arturo knew, perhaps, but beyond that one comment he said nothing of +it to me. He was more silent than ever, this voyage. A grim, intent +eagerness seemed possessing him. A dark flush was on his usually +pale cheeks. A trembling eagerness it was. It showed itself in his +smoldering dark eyes; a quiver in his voice, so that any one who did +not know, might have thought that fear was upon him.</p> + +<p>He sat with me throughout every watch, peering into the white headlight +beam. Green depths of water surged at us; a fish occasionally surprised +by our light, darted away. So little to see, and nothing out of the +ordinary.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Nothing—until that night in Micronesia, west of the Marshalls. We +were, I think, about ten degrees N., one hundred and fifty-eight +degrees E.—it had been some hours since I had checked our exact +position. Arturo and I were at the forward tower bull’s-eye. Nothing to +see save green speeding water. And then, abruptly, it flashed at us—a +dim, illumined something in the ocean far ahead, flashing forward as we +sped seemingly directly at it.</p> + +<p>Arturo gripped me. “Jeff!”</p> + +<p>The lookout’s voice in the bow-hood sounded simultaneously from the +speaker beside us.</p> + +<p>“Danger ahead.”</p> + +<p>And a duplicate of the engine-room bells, and automatic warnings to the +control operators sounded. In the mirror overhead I saw reflected the +startled faces of the two men in the control tower; saw them throwing +over the wheels.</p> + +<p>We turned to port and slanted upward to the surface; so sudden a change +that the ship listed perceptibly. An instant only. The whole thing +was so swift at our fifty knot speed that in an instant the hovering +thing had come—and passed. But we saw it, the vision of it distinctly +registered upon our startled minds.</p> + +<p>A dim, illumined something far ahead of us, glowing as the bow light +picked it up. It grew, in seconds, to something round: a globe twenty +feet in diameter perhaps. Metallic? I think so. It glowed darkly +luminous and smooth in our light. A globular thing, with projections +as though it might have been some monster sea-spider, risen from the +deeps, resting up here near the surface with crooked, folded legs.</p> + +<p>I recall my instant, fleeting impressions. A thing solid, metallic, +mechanical. A lurking thing of a strange, sinister aspect—a thing +diabolical. It flashed off sidewise and down as we turned, a darkly +shining globe with a great round white spot on it like an eye!</p> + +<p>Arturo showed unexpected presence of mind. He reached with one hand +for the telescope range-finder; and with the other for a stern +searchlight, and trained them both upon the fleeing object now passing +under our keel.</p> + +<p>“Jeff, look!”</p> + +<p>The telescope image showed for an instant in the mirror on a shelf +before us as Arturo flung on the current. An enlarged image of a convex +window, like glass, transparent with a dim green light behind it. A +face was there at the window. Human? I do not know. But it showed in +that momentary impression the face of a young girl. Lurid, ghastly with +the green glow upon it. Beautiful? Perhaps that. Or weird, unearthly. +I recall the intent staring eyes, the parted lips, as though with +labored, frightened breathing. A startled face, framed in a tangle of +tresses. But it was more than just startled. Those staring green eyes! +I met them full, in the mirror.</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""> + <div class="caption"> + <p><i>For an instant he saw the strange face in the mirror.</i></p> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<p>And the light from them struck at me with a shudder and a lure.</p> + +<p>An instant. Then the face, the image in our mirror, was gone. I reached +up and snapped off the current. My fingers were trembling.</p> + +<p>Arturo murmured, “Oh.”</p> + +<p>He was sitting very still, staring blankly as though the vision of that +face was still before him.</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>“COMING UP, FROM UNDER THE SEA!”</h3> + + +<p>The lookouts had seen the globe; even the old man, on his emergency +mirrors in his cabin, had caught a brief glimpse of it. He stopped +us at the surface. There was nothing up there; a calm, empty moonlit +tropic sea, with nothing in sight except the lights of a distant +passing liner ten thousand feet or so overhead.</p> + +<p>We dived, and cruised around, from fifty fathoms to the surface. But +there was nothing to be seen.</p> + +<p>I think that none but Arturo and myself had caught the vision of that +girl’s face. We did not mention it. Arturo pleaded earnestly:</p> + +<p>“Don’t, Jeff. Father would rather you did not, I’m sure. We’ll tell +him, let him inform the proper authorities.”</p> + +<p>I was determined, in the interests of my superiors, that our +director-general should know as soon as I reached New York. But that +was no reason for spreading it aboard ship.</p> + +<p>It was the only abnormal incident of that last voyage. Naturally it +left me wondering, as if here were the key-piece to all these scattered +happenings.</p> + +<p>A thousand vague conjectures, romantic, fearsome, surged within me. +Ships drawn under. Ships, always food-laden. And queerly hovering in +my mind was the persisting crazy impression of that girl’s tangled +tresses—like seaweed. I found myself waking up one night from a dream. +A girl with glowing green eyes, and tangled flowing tresses like +seaweed, was singing softly; and the song swept me with a trembling +desire.</p> + +<p>Arturo was more silent than ever for the rest of the voyage. I tried to +discuss the thing with him. He shut me up sharply.</p> + +<p>“Father will want to see us. You can talk about it then.”</p> + +<p>We were on time picking up the channel lights of our home port. +Following close along the bottom, we cruised in between the two beacons +of the twenty-fathom depth. The old man was beside me. He gestured +toward our beacon chart.</p> + +<p>“Those lights, Jeff, are at twenty fathoms, low tide. You and I know it +as well as we know our names. But look at them!”</p> + +<p>We were passing level with the caisson. Twenty fathoms! This was low +tide now, and it did not need the special danger bulletins which had +been flashed to us at every port all the way from Java, to warn us that +something was wrong. Twenty fathoms? There were barely ten!</p> + +<p>Arturo and I transshipped to the continental passenger liner; and +again at New York we took the Rekjavik Local Mail, with first stop at +Portland. Polly met us at the Portland landing stage.</p> + +<p>“I’ve our plane here. Come on.” She kissed Arturo and gave me her hand. +“You’re safe! We’ve been rather worried, until we got your landing +message.”</p> + +<p>Arturo’s sister was a year older than he—at this time, nineteen. As +different from Arturo as a sister well could be. She was a practical +little person; there was nothing of the ineffectual dreamer about Polly +Plantet. They were distant relatives of mine, and I had known Polly +since she was ten. We called her then, “Roly Poly”; a chunky little +girl, with a round moon-face and long chestnut curls. I recall how she +hated the nickname; but, instead of crying, she dashed at us boys, +fighting us with flailing little fists.</p> + +<p>At nineteen her “moon-face” had lengthened; but it was still solidly +practical.</p> + +<p>Her figure was not chunky now, but even the most lavish flatterer +would never have called her willowy. A solidly wholesome, determined +little thing this Polly Plantet. Quiet of demeanor, purposeful, yet +withal tempered by a feminine softness. In stature she was something +around five feet. Vigorously healthy, she seemed to me the very +personification of healthy, normal young womanhood.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Dr. Plantet’s wife had died when Arturo still was in infancy. They +had lived then in Martinique, where the children were born. A mixed +heritage: Dr. Plantet Anglo-Saxon—his wife Latin, with both French and +Spanish mingled in her. Polly was so like her father that one could +never mistake them, while Arturo was romantically Latin.</p> + +<p>Motherless, Arturo had found in Polly almost a mother. Dr. Plantet +was by nature intolerant of human failings, or so at least it always +seemed to me. He did not understand his son, and to Polly went, if not +his greatest love, certainly all the understanding comradeship of their +daily life.</p> + +<p>But Polly understood her brother. The essential, womanly softness of +the girl’s nature showed at its best with Arturo. Only a year older +in age, she was vastly older in maturity. She was at once, to him, a +sister and a mother; and a buffer between him and his father.</p> + +<p>A little diplomat, Polly knew when to lead, rather than drive. No one +could drive Dr. Plantet; nor Arturo either, for that matter—it was +almost the only quality which he and his father had in common. Yet they +loved each other deeply, of that I am sure.</p> + +<p>Polly led us from the Portland landing stage, down the spider incline +of moving pedestrian lanes to the lower stage where the private +vehicles were stalled. Our luggage had preceded us in the chutes.</p> + +<p>“We’ve been worried, Jeff. A hundred times father regretted letting +Arturo go.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I went,” said Arturo.</p> + +<p>“Yes, boy dear—you went. It was foolhardy; Jeff’s directors should +never have taken the chance.”</p> + +<p>We climbed into the small plane which Polly had brought; the guards +shot us off. It was 1 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span> of the night of July 15-16. A warm, +flawless night of brilliant stars, with the last quarter moon not yet +risen. We darted up from the clanking Portland terminal like a humming +wasp, and headed northeast along the coast.</p> + +<p>I went back to Polly’s last remark. “There seemed no danger, Polly; we +saw nothing unusual. Except—”</p> + +<p>I glanced at Arturo.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell her,” he said. He told her. Simply, unemotionally—with so +queer a lack of emotion that it seemed a mask. She made no comment. +She, too, seemed abnormally restrained. And upon us all presently +descended a silence; to me, an oppression—a sense of fear. Yet it +was not exactly that either; rather the feeling of something strange +crowding about us, something unknown.</p> + +<p>These queer world events; this impending something—unnatural, +uncanny—crowding us now, making us silent as though we feared to hear +the voicing of our own thoughts. There were millions of people in the +world these days who laughed and scoffed and thought it a jest that +the tides were wrong, and vessels were disappearing; and who would +have said, had we told them we had seen a girl’s face within a globe +floating in the ocean depths, that we were drunk, or dreaming that +Homer had come to life again with modern trimmings.</p> + +<p>But there were others, I am sure, millions of them, who felt uneasy, +with panic hovering at hand. Like the presage of a fearsome, unseen +storm below the horizon, there was something in the air all over the +world. Crowding at us—something very strange, perhaps diabolical.</p> + +<p>And it had marked Dr. Plantet. I could see that at once, this night, +far more clearly than the previous month, by his harassed, almost +haggard look; the surprising and, in him, unnatural, warmth and +tenderness of greeting as he put an arm about Arturo’s shoulders and +welcomed him home; his solemn, almost grim manner as he listened to +what we had seen, there under the water in Micronesia.</p> + +<p>He turned to me:</p> + +<p>“I’ve something to tell you, Jeff. Arturo and Polly understand a good +deal of it, but not all. It is clear now, this thing we’ve got to face. +I’ve persuaded the authorities to make it public.</p> + +<p>“The world must know—must face it. We cannot be ostriches with our +heads buried in the sand. Polly, have Frantzen carry down the luggage +and run in the plane; and then bring us out some lunch. We’ll sit out +here. It’s too hot inside.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>We sat in a small stone bower on the shore front, with the stars over +us, banks of flowers and ferns heaped around us; and, ahead, the +open sea. The moon was just rising over the distant ocean horizon—a +flattened, spoon-shaped crescent, hugely yellow. It flung a golden path +toward us over the lazy, breathing sea. A strip of beach, golden in the +moonlight, lay at our feet, with grim frowning rocks and headlands to +the sides.</p> + +<p>Nature as it used to be! There were no aërials in sight here, no +landing stages; nothing of our modernity to remind one of a world +mechanical with trees and grass and the moon almost forgotten. Yet +even so, at our feet the disturbed world of 1990 obtruded. The strip +of beach was naked of water; it sloped out and down to a rocky, slimy +shelf, plunged steeply another twenty feet down to where the fallen +ocean lapped at it. And in the moonlight the outer rocks and headlands +stood queerly high, misshaped of aspect.</p> + +<p>To me, with the oppression of spirit upon me, the sight was suddenly +ugly—huge darkened teeth upstanding with gums receded to expose the +spreading roots!</p> + +<p>Dr. Plantet had been talking quietly. Now, indeed, I understood in +a measure what he had been through these past weeks. A man, still +vigorously young in his forties, though to-night one would have said +he was fully fifty or more. He was a vigorous, stocky figure of a man; +rather short, exceedingly muscular, with wide shoulders and a deep +chest. A solid face, smooth-shaved, with deep-set gray eyes, and sparse +brown hair graying at the temples. It was a kindly face. There was much +to like in Dr. Plantet if one did not oppose him. But it was a stern +face; harsh when stirred to anger.</p> + +<p>At forty, wealthy by inheritance, he had given up his career of surgeon +at the height of his national fame. He had always loved the sea; in +his student twenties he had served as surgeon on one of the last of the +old-fashioned passenger ships. Oceanography had always been his hobby; +to explore the ocean depths was one of his dreams. Illogical in his +intolerance of Arturo? I always thought so; indeed, I had once heard +Polly tell him so, in Arturo’s absence. But she could not make him see +it.</p> + +<p>He told us now what he had been doing these past weeks. Consulting with +the scientists of the world governments; analyzing the conflicting +world reports.</p> + +<p>Ah, so much had happened, kept from all publicity! A huge secret +meeting of scientists from all the world governments had been held last +week in London. Dr. Plantet had been there. This thing that had been +growing upon them all for weeks, now was obvious. The world would have +to be told, and preparations made to meet the new conditions—to fight!</p> + +<p>Dr. Plantet, essentially the fighter, must have played a leading part +in this final discussion, forcing them to his views. It was growing +upon me gradually as he talked. The strangeness of it, the strange, +weird fear of it.</p> + +<p>“Fight—what?” I ventured. I glanced at Arturo, a slim young figure in +white, with flowing white sleeves. He sat, chin cupped in his hands, +with knees hunched up; in his intent white face, his dark dreaming eyes +were gazing off at the rising moon. He seemed not to be thinking of his +father’s words, but dreaming dreams of his own.</p> + +<p>I repeated, “Fight—what, Dr. Plantet?”</p> + +<p>From the house Polly came breathless, bearing the tray of refreshments.</p> + +<p>“The newscaster from Melbourne has been on the air—I’ve been listening +to him. Father, they keep on making a joke of it! They’ve seen a +mermaid on a desert island beach in Micronesia!”</p> + +<p>Arturo turned silently. Dr. Plantet said: “Did they give the position? +What sort of mermaid? Who reported it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; they gave an island at nine degrees thirty minutes N, one +hundred and fifty-seven degrees twenty-five minutes E. I looked it up. +There’s an unnamed island there, the tiniest of dots on the chart. +Uninhabited—an atoll I imagine, of a few acres.”</p> + +<p>Dr. Plantet took some of the food; but I noticed that his hand was +unsteady. Arturo gestured the tray away and sat brooding.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Polly was saying: “A mermaid! A passing fishing roamer saw it at dawn a +week ago. They didn’t speak of it officially on the air, but yesterday, +when they got back to Suva, the sailors told of it. A mermaid, sitting +on the coral beach before the dawn, braiding her seaweed hair! They +saw her, from miles away with the glasses. The ship had no electric +image-finders. But they saw her sitting there. And some of the sailors +swear that in the silence of the dawn they could hear her singing, but +that’s nonsense. I suppose the master had official instructions to +avoid such a thing, so he kept on going and did not land. The sailors, +some of them, were frightened. But others wanted to land and capture +the mermaid. Can you imagine—superstitious ignorant men in this day +and age!”</p> + +<p>She was breathlessly excited. A mermaid, on a desert, south sea beach, +sitting braiding her seaweed hair, singing to the sailors of a passing +ship. The world was laughing at the tale.</p> + +<p>Arturo said, very quietly: “You’d better tell us, father, what is going +to be done. Jeff doesn’t understand fully yet.”</p> + +<p>The tray of food stood neglected. Dr. Plantet lighted a cigarette and +sat back apparently relaxed. He spoke quietly, at first precisely, as +though carefully choosing his words to my understanding; but there was +in his voice a grim sense of power, and his burning eyes clung steadily +to my face.</p> + +<p>“Jeff, this is no new thing to me. This culmination is, I grant; I had +never thought of actually living to see it. But the possibility. Jeff, +for years I have been studying what, in popular language, they call +‘our unknown earth.’ What lies within our globe. Beneath the surface +of our seas, that we know. But deeper still—beyond, beneath the ocean +bottom—then what? Some six miles it is, Jeff, from the summit of Mount +Everest to the ocean level. And another six miles to the abyss of +the Nero Deep. Twelve miles or so. What is that? Our globe has eight +thousand miles of interior. We humans have brought a scant twelve miles +within our ken. Twelve miles out of eight thousand. Infinitesimal. It +sounds incredible—but it is true. And yet some of us think we know +something about our world. We do not—for most of it is as unknown to +us as the moon.</p> + +<p>“These vast oceans, this hydrosphere of ours, embraces nearly +three-quarters of the earth’s surface. You know its mean depth is not +much over two miles. We think of these oceans as tremendous—this +gigantic layer of water, so enormous of volume. It is not. On an orange +it would represent an uneven skin thin as tissue paper. Compared to +the wholly unknown interior volume of our earth, that’s all it is—a +film-layer of water, like tissue paper on an orange. Insects, crawling +on the tissue wrapping—what do they know of the orange?”</p> + +<p>He gestured again. “You see what I’m getting at, Jeff? Our oceans are +receding. The volume of water in them, compared to the volume of the +earth, is very small. It is receding—vanishing. But where could it +go? The last geodetic survey, Jeff, was startling. It helped to show +enormous errors in several physical facts about the earth which for +a century have been accepted as true. Yet, for twenty years now, +astronomers and physicists have known that the calculated density of +our earth does not check, within the limits of a tremendous probable +error, with the earth’s volume, or its mass, or its gravitational force.</p> + +<p>“Something is wrong. All the figures, when one set of calculations is +checked against another, seem wrong. We know it. And, as I pointed out +to them in London last week—with present-day facts to prove it—the +Granthin-Morley theories of 1960, scoffed at as they were, hit the +truth. If our earth were a wholly solid globe, or nearly so as we have +chosen to consider it, with a liquid core of molten rock perhaps—if it +were that, with the volume as we know it to be, its total mass would be +far greater than our figures show. But the mass we know to be a true +figure. The calculated total volume is correct. The gravitational force +cannot be questioned. What then is wrong? The density! One-tenth of our +globe’s volume, at the very least, must be empty space! A honeycomb +perhaps.”</p> + +<p>Dr. Plantet sat up abruptly. “Jeff, there is in Holland a fellow named +De Boer. He is, I think, the most eminent geologist we have to-day. He +stood up last week and told them that our outer core, from the surface +of the earth to a depth of a hundred miles, must be honeycombed. And +Dr. Jaeger, of the Hawaiian Research Bureau of Vulcanology, supported +him. Ah, now you are beginning to understand, Jeff!”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>I was, indeed! This thing, so strange! Yet so logical, inevitable, that +I could wonder how in all these æons of our earth’s history it had +never happened before.</p> + +<p>I ventured, “The oceans are receding—”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Not a question of tides—no tiny disturbed fluctuations. A +general receding. There are nearly ten fathoms gone now—half of it +within the last week. Pearl Harbor is nearly empty, since you left +it! A narrow channel, nothing more. Did you get a look at New York +harbor? And here at our feet—The whole world is wondering, Jeff. But +they are keeping it off the air, and out of the newsprints. The people +think—most of those who have the intelligence to think at all—that it +must be local. These crazy tides!”</p> + +<p>He waved away that angle of it with a gesture. “Where is the water +going? We do not know, but we can imagine. This tissue paper layer of +water is receding doubtless into the vast honeycombed interior of our +hundred-mile core. They’ll say, ‘Why, this is very strange. It never +happened before, why should it happen now?’”</p> + +<p>His voice was edged with sarcasm. “How do we know it never happened +before? Our little human knowledge embraces a few thousand years out +of the hundreds of millions of our globe’s life history. Indeed, we +do know that the ocean level has never stayed the same. Perhaps, over +æons of time, the oceans rise and fall—empty and refill like a shallow +cove with its tides. And this is only the same thing done suddenly. An +earthquake, early this year perhaps, at the bottom of one of our ocean +basins, opened a rift to let the water down. Dr. Jaeger thinks it may +possibly have been that—the seismographic records show three such +disturbances last winter. Whatever it is, the fact is here upon us. The +public is going to be told, to-morrow or the next day. The oceans are +emptying of water! It may stop any day. Or it may go on—completely to +empty them! It may take years—centuries. Or it may continue quickly, +more quickly than ever, until all the ocean beds are dry!”</p> + +<p>He did not pause; he smiled his ironic smile. “The public will be +thrilled! But not when they stop to think about it. The newscasters +will picture the great new realm of land. Three times as much land +as we already know. Geography suddenly expanded. A rolling desert of +lowlands from New York to London! Mountains and valleys down there. +Land, sloping down from the heights of New York—over the new desert +regions we have called the North Atlantic, up again to the heights +which were the British Isles. It will be so thrilling! What wonders may +be exposed. Ah, but they won’t be so joyfully thrilled when the reality +comes.</p> + +<p>“I heard last week a score of meteorologists give an opinion—and not +one of them could agree on what it will do to us! What change to our +rainfall? Our springs? Our fresh-water supply? Dr. Jaeger stood on the +rostrum; and we asked him what might happen. At this present moment +the pit of Kilauea, Mauna Loa, Haleakala—all of them out there—are +throwing up steam instead of lava and rock. The volcanic disturbance +seems greatest in the Pacific—Etna is quiet to-day. We asked Jaeger +if that would continue. Or grow worse. Would there be devastating +earthquakes? He answered us very simply. The words of a truly great +man, Jeff. He said: ‘I do not know.’”</p> + +<p>There was a brief silence. Arturo had not moved; he still sat moodily +staring over the moonlit, fallen ocean. Polly sat breathless, with +parted lips, her eyes upon her father. Her hand touched his knee.</p> + +<p>“You do not mention the most serious thing of it all, father.”</p> + +<p>The questions had been trembling within me. The ships that disappeared; +this thing we had seen in the ocean; this mermaid they said they had +seen on a South Sea beach.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Dr. Plantet’s voice took a graver tone. “Ah, that!” He turned from +Polly, to me. “Jeff, we humans, as we call ourselves, have been living +for a few thousand years out of millions of centuries. We occupy +and know only a tiny fraction of our globe. Yet we have the temerity +to assume that what we do not see, does not exist. Other beings are +here—human of form, like ourselves. They do exist! Doubtless in +the last few thousand years since we came—from them perhaps—to +inhabit the surface, they have forgotten us. But now they have +remembered—discovered us.”</p> + +<p>His voice took on a sudden vehemence. “This is theory, +speculation—call it what you will. But they couldn’t face me down in +London—there is too much evidence. It’s nothing new to me, Jeff; I’ve +always been speculating on it. Do you suppose that all the legends of +our primitive peoples are founded upon nothing? It is not reasonable. +From whence sprang the idea of a world of gods? Supermen. Beautiful +women. The oceanids? Sea-nymphs—mermaids—beautiful sea-maidens +because that was our human sex instinct to picture them that way. The +gods—Titans—the personification of beautiful, virile manhood—that, +the picture of them, was a human instinct, too, the outlet of primitive +fancies, half fearful, half poetic.</p> + +<p>“But from whence came the basis of it? All legends of every one of our +ancient peoples—all of them picture unknown beings, here with us upon +our earth. Too universal to be a coincidence! Some of us say: ‘Why, +those ignorant ancients saw the dugongs, with breasts like women, and +called them women of the sea! Or saw seals, and thought them mermaids.’ +It may be so—but it hardly explains so universal a similarity of +legends.</p> + +<p>“For myself, I prefer to think that throughout the ages, this other +race, this other civilization, has made occasional contact with ours. +Perhaps their own legends tell of a great ethereal world of brightness +with strange men like gods. Occasional, inevitable contact. You and +Arturo saw what? A mermaid? If you had lived a few thousand years +ago you might have built a legend around her—and sung some immortal +song in her praise. Ah, Jeff, we have not advanced very far! They +saw a mermaid on a beach in Micronesia last week; and if we let them +alone—though this is 1990, Jeff—the newscasters would presently blaze +out with doggerel verse about her. Where is the difference?”</p> + +<p>My head was whirling with it. Not his sarcastic gibes—but this thing, +incredible, but proved by every detail of what had already happened. +Facts not to be denied. Diversified happenings, so reasonless until the +key piece was supplied! Ships drawn under. Ships, always food-laden.</p> + +<p>Dr. Plantet was saying: “They’re coming out, Jeff, these people +of our vague legends. I conceive possibly—and Jaeger and De Boer +agreed with me—that this sudden subterranean outlet of our oceans +is not necessarily from a natural disturbance. Perhaps these other +humans—they must at least be human, our ancestors perhaps, and I think +probably more advanced than ourselves—perhaps they have found the +water a barrier and have planned to drain it away.</p> + +<p>“There is a clear connection in every fact we have observed, Jeff. +They are under the Pacific Ocean undoubtedly. Coming up to steal our +ships for the food they contain! They have done that. But what worse +will they do? Come up when the water is drained, and attack us? I think +so. I think even now they may be coming, with what strange devices to +conquer the ocean depths—and to conquer us—we can only guess. Coming +up to conquer for their own uses the bright ethereal realm of their +legends! I believe that is what is going on down there now! And we must +prepare for it. I’ve told our governments so, and they see that it +is a fact. The world public will know it by day after to-morrow. The +strangest danger that ever has threatened us. No use trying to avoid +it. No sense in trying to explain away facts which nothing else can +explain. You can’t say ‘This is too strange, it cannot happen.’ That’s +childish, because it is happening. The greatest menace in our history +is upon us!”</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>TWO THOUSAND FATHOMS!</h3> + + +<p>I find it difficult to convey a picture of those following days. Upon +so large a canvas as our great, diversified world surface, the few +futile strokes I can give must leave most of all to the imagination. +What fragments came within my limited knowledge I can tell as they +recur to me. No one could grasp it as a whole, except those in +authority, flanked with their busy scientific staffs, poring over +endless reports, charts, summaries of world conditions and the myriad +of diversified world happenings—abnormal, startling, fearful some of +them; wide-flung events seemingly so unrelated, but each making up its +tiny portion of the whole.</p> + +<p>We got them there in Dr. Plantet’s home at Sea End hourly from the +newscasters. Ten fathoms of water gone from the oceans, harbors dry, +rivers tumbling down new waterfalls where once had been the river’s +mouth. A hundred local items of emptied water fronts, fishing vessels +stranded in the harbor mud, canals being closed everywhere to traffic.</p> + +<p>A lurid, dramatic broadcasted advertisement by the Associated Bureau +of World Air Commerce: “Schedules changed to meet new conditions. Air +lines to the rescue! Stranded island and coast ports to be given air +traffic. A thousand new local ships to be commissioned at once.” An ad +by the great Dayton builders, requiring additional men for the night +shifts.</p> + +<p>Hundreds of such things. Newscasters by the hour recited dry statistics +of harbor depths, local climate changes, routine weather reports, +a learned, somewhat pessimistic summary of the world’s fresh water +supplies. A company organized to drill, wholesale, for artesian wells. +A panic in the hot spring area of New Zealand. A spouting geyser +reported bursting into existence in the Soudan desert. Etna and +Vesuvius quiet—the Pacific volcanoes all spouting steam.</p> + +<p>The newscaster’s voice came day and night from our receiving grid. The +tape clicked beside it, an endless stream of recorded events.</p> + +<p>An exodus of people from the Gaspé fishing region; signs of a growing +tendency to panic throughout all the South Seas; a Japanese mandate +that none must travel from one island to another; an iceberg coming +down far below the normal summer limit of drift in the North Pacific; +ocean currents disturbed; a prognostication of what the new rainfall +might be in various localities.</p> + +<p>“Rot!” snorted Dr. Plantet. “They do not know—there is no one who +knows anything about it!”</p> + +<p>The British Isles were perturbed. There was much learned discussion +concerning the Gulf Stream. Without it the cold of an almost Arctic +winter would settle upon London. They had always been perturbed over +the precious Gulf Stream, these Britishers. I recall reading that +three-quarters of a century ago some of them had been bothered by the +Yankee railroad from Florida to Key West. And when the additional road +causeways were completed there was more British comment, claiming that +the Gulf Stream was influenced adversely to effect the mild British +winters. Nonsense, of course. But they had real cause now to be worried.</p> + +<p>With my company giving me definite leave, I was free these days to +remain with the Plantets. Dr. Plantet seemed to want me. He hinted that +he would need me for some rôle in this world drama that I might play +to advantage. He no more than hinted at it; but I waited, eagerly to +welcome it.</p> + +<p>We spent most of our time at the air speakers. Polly was excited, tense +with it all. Arturo said almost nothing. I was too engrossed at the +time to remark him closely. But I recall that queer aspect of brooding; +an absorption in his own queer thoughts; a moodiness. He seemed, often, +to want solitude.</p> + +<p>I would miss him from the instrument room, finding him perhaps sitting +on the shore front, where, far out on a slimy, descending slope, the +ocean lapped a full seventy feet from where it should have been. A +graceful, slim figure of a boy with gentility stamped in every line +of him; a romantic little figure, like Raleigh, the boy, Sir Walter, +sitting at the ocean’s edge, brooding, dreaming his own dreams with the +lure of the sea upon him.</p> + +<p>Looking back upon it the comparison strikes me. But at the time I +recall I was annoyed with Arturo. He impressed me as rather sullen—a +spoiled, sullen boy. Dr. Plantet had one evening said something with +an edge to it—some trivial thing, unimportant; and Arturo had flushed +with a deep, angry flush—and with quivering lip, had left the house. +It was hours before he returned.</p> + +<p>We had had numerous world reports that evening of vital +interest—especially to any normal young man. But Arturo barely glanced +at the printed tape lying in the basket; and wholly without interest +sat in a shadowed corner of the room. It hurt Dr. Plantet—himself +so actively plunged now into this coming crisis of the world’s +history—hurt him that he should sire a son like this.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>My picture seems confused. In that quality it approximates the reality, +for these days of July, 1990, were indeed a confusion.</p> + +<p>Dr. Plantet was away for a day several times. Always, while at home, +for hours at a time he was shut up alone in the instrument room, +talking to New York or London; consulting. A stream of incoming +official calls demanded him. I heard him once when he had left the +audible speaker connected—heard him being questioned regarding the +progress of his ship; and he had replied that already the successful +casting had been made in the Norfolk shops.</p> + +<p>I demanded of Polly what that meant.</p> + +<p>“He’ll tell you presently, Jeff. You—look here, Jeff, that reminds +me.” She put her hands up to my shoulders, holding me to face her. +Dear little Polly, so earnest! Her brown eyes were glowing with her +earnestness. “Jeff, when father tells you, I want you to persuade him +that I am in it, too. You will, won’t you?”</p> + +<p>“In what, Polly?”</p> + +<p>“He’ll tell you. He, and you of course, and Arturo—but also myself! +There are to be four—I heard him say that. And I want to be the +fourth.”</p> + +<p>I answered her seriously, as I knew she desired. “I can’t promise that, +Polly, until I know what it is.”</p> + +<p>It was nearly the end of July before Dr. Plantet told me of his plans. +During all these July days of confusion there had been no further sign +of any human enemy menacing our world. Surface traffic by sea had +everywhere been discontinued nor were any submersibles in service. The +oceans were abandoned, while a tremendous activity on the part of all +aircraft organizations was manifest everywhere.</p> + +<p>No sign of an enemy. There had been minor panics among the publics of +the Eastern Islands; but the fear there was gradually waning. And in +the Western world, comparatively remote from the scene of the threat, +the idea of a human enemy whom no one had ever seen, was derided. It +was best perhaps. There is nothing more dangerous than panic.</p> + +<p>But officially there was no derision. Official activities were more +or less secret; rumors of them leaked out, of course, while bulletins +distorted the facts to what officialdom considered was for the public +good. But through Dr. Plantet’s activities I was made aware of much +that was going on. The “Yellow Peril” was lost and forgotten. All the +world’s governments were working together. The huge armored aircrafts +were being recommissioned. Men were being drilled. The Yellow War, with +all its main battles fought in the air, had given a tremendous stimulus +to aviation, and all the devices which it had developed for dealing +death were being made ready anew.</p> + +<p>Underocean warfare was a thing of the distant past. But that, too, +was being resuscitated. I heard that they were building armored +submersibles. A Brazilian engineer, one Lopez, came suddenly into +prominence with his claim for an underwater death-dealing ray.</p> + +<p>They brought forth from the United States Navy Yard shops, new models +of the ancient ocean bombs, called mines—things that could be +electrically exploded. And tiny traveling bomb-ships called torpedoes.</p> + +<p>One of these latter was tested off Hatteras. In Dr. Plantet’s +instrument room we sat watching the test as it showed on one of his +receiving mirrors. It was broadcasted over the world—I suppose fifty +million or more people must have been watching it as we were. We had a +good view; they had the finder on a small plane which circled back and +forth. We saw the small submersible, awash at the surface, shoot out +the torpedo. It came up like a child’s toy, and then dived a few feet. +It traveled swiftly; we could follow its progress by the tiny aërial +projecting up from it, cleaving the surface like the periscope of an +old-fashioned sub-marine. It sped straight for its target—a small +vessel they had towed out and left drifting. There was a dull, muffled +report—we heard it plainly over the audiphone—and a heave of the +water. The small ship presently sank.</p> + +<p>It seemed rather a futile demonstration. But there were rumors of +the Lopez ray—and diving bombs which aircraft could drop from a +considerable height.</p> + +<p>A multitude of official activities. Dr. Plantet was concerned with many +of them—but mostly with this enterprise of his own at Norfolk. He was +almost without sleep. Far into the night he would sit over charts, or +blue prints—or casting up seemingly endless mathematic formulæ. And +several times engineers came from Norfolk to see him, frequently taking +him back with them.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>On July 29 he chose to tell me what he was doing.</p> + +<p>“Come into the library, Jeff.” It was after midnight, and he had just +returned from a swift visit to Norfolk. “Come into the library, you and +Polly. Where is Arturo?”</p> + +<p>The soft, plaintive notes of Arturo’s violin from his bedroom upstairs +told us only too surely.</p> + +<p>A shadow crossed Dr. Plantet’s tired face; but his muttered +contemptuous oath was vigorous enough. He said brusquely:</p> + +<p>“Very well—let him alone, Jeff. He probably isn’t interested.”</p> + +<p>Polly had joined us. “He is, father—I’ll get him.”</p> + +<p>I heard her voice when she got up the incline:</p> + +<p>“Arturo! Father is back—it’s successful—they’ve tried the hull under +pressure! Boy, dear—”</p> + +<p>The door closed upon her; but she came down presently with Arturo. I +had not seen him all day.</p> + +<p>“<i>Hola</i>, Jeff!” He smiled at me. “Good evening, father.” He kissed +his father—I had not seen him do it for a year. “Polly says it is a +success—I’m very glad, father, dear.”</p> + +<p>I did not miss Dr. Plantet’s gesture as Arturo kissed him; nor mistake +it. His powerful hands on Arturo’s slim shoulders seemed involuntarily +to tighten; a caress—and it seemed a gesture of possession, as though +this son, drifting away in spirit, were suddenly restored to him. A +stern, vigorous man, cruel sometimes in his sternness; but I could see +at that instant the love that he bore for his son—could see it in his +convulsive, clinging gesture, as if he feared that Arturo, who had come +to him now, might soon be snatched away.</p> + +<p>It may have been a premonition.</p> + +<p>“Yes, lad, a success. Come into the library—I’ll tell you all about +it.”</p> + +<p>We went in. I sat listening to Dr. Plantet. But for a time my gaze and +half my thoughts were upon Arturo. He seemed this night abruptly older. +He sat with what I fancied were wandering thoughts, striving to listen +to his father, striving to nod, to smile, once or twice to question. +But his mind was on something else—something eagerly frightening.</p> + +<p>I could not miss the tenseness of him, and the new, older aspect of +affection with which he regarded his father and Polly. Something within +his mind absorbed him—burning eagerness for something frightening.</p> + +<p>Polly saw it. She eyed me once significantly; she moved over and sat +beside Arturo, with her arm around him. And he leaned down and kissed +her.</p> + +<p>Strange adventure, which Dr. Plantet now proposed us! Awe-inspiring; +to me, adventurous by nature and with the lure of the sea upon me, it +nevertheless came as a shock. And a great thrill.</p> + +<p>I listened, and presently forgot Arturo, and had no eyes for anything +but Dr. Plantet’s tired, intent face; I had no thought for anything but +his words. He was brief, abrupt. The oceans were receding, but it might +be months before they had fallen appreciably toward their greater +hidden depths. Meanwhile, our governments were preparing to fight some +unknown, unseen human enemy. No one knew the nature of this menace. If +we were to be assailed, where would it be? In the Pacific, doubtless, +but the Pacific is a wide-flung area.</p> + +<p>“I believe,” said Dr. Plantet, “that if we could locate them, we would +find this enemy preparing to attack us. We will be months getting +ready. In the meantime, what? Are we to wait without trying to find +out what our assailants are doing? The floor of the great Pacific +basin—suppose somewhere down there—”</p> + +<p>He paused. I stammered suddenly: “You’ve been building a ship—but the +deeps? Why, it’s unthinkable!”</p> + +<p>“But it is not, Jeff! Oh, the great deeps are beyond us with the water +that now lies over them; they are safe from our prying eyes. But I can +penetrate two thousand fathoms!”</p> + +<p>I think I had never seen him so vehement; a triumph upon him, an +excitement almost boyish with this enterprise the product of his genius +and intrepidity.</p> + +<p>“I’ve been working on it a long time, Jeff—from the very first reports +of the abnormal tides. Polly will tell you how I’ve worked. If we can +locate this enemy, even determine beyond the shadow of a doubt that +there is such an enemy, what a stimulus to our own preparations for +defense—the possibility perhaps of our nation making an attack and +carrying the warfare down to them!”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Just to-day, he said, they had tested the hull of his tiny ship for +that depth. Two thousand fathoms—twelve thousand feet! The craft was a +tiny affair indeed! A crew of three or four. A little dolphin, flashing +under the sea with a speed up to seventy knots.</p> + +<p>“In barely two weeks we’ll be ready, Jeff. Oh, they haven’t stinted +me; the government has stood ready with its funds and all its +resources. I’ve had materials from a dozen countries rushed here by +the fastest wasps we could commandeer. I’ve had the pick of all the +technical men developing this new principle. Hydraulics—internal, +reciprocating pressure, call it what you will, we haven’t named it +yet—and I’m using the new Parodyne atomic engine.</p> + +<p>“It’s nearly ready—the cleanest running little thing—Parodyne himself +believes we’ll get seventy knots. The Australian Commonwealth Through +Mail is planning to stop their flyer at Norfolk and carry us over the +Pacific. Set us down where we like to begin our voyage. A diving range +of two thousand fathoms, Jeff—we’ve tested it for that, with a fair +margin of safety. And I can get another five hundred of littoral region +with the Franklin searchlights.”</p> + +<p>Two thousand fathoms! The great unknown oceans, with this little +dolphin of a ship flashing down into them to such a depth! And I was +to be on board! It set a thrill upon me. So might Columbus have felt +when from the queen’s fair hand came the money that made his voyage +possible. But it must have been a thrill both of eagerness and of fear.</p> + +<p>Two thousand fathoms? Why, we could skim the sides of the Tonga and +Marshall Ridges; follow the Marianne Trench to where it yawned into +the Nero Deep. Two thousand fathoms? What gullies might we explore! +What troughs and furrows could we traverse up the steep slopes to the +island-bearing rises! Why, what a realm of the unknown to bring so +suddenly to our ken!</p> + +<p>Dr. Plantet was saying: “You’ll go, Jeff, of course. Ah, now you see +why I’ve kept you here—to be my navigator. I could not find one I +would sooner trust, for all your youth. If our world is to be assailed, +we’ll locate the point of attack—”</p> + +<p>And I was chosen for such a voyage as this! I suddenly saw Dr. Plantet +to be a name immortal; and the man himself sat here planning his voyage +into the great Pacific. And it seemed that something of Balboa and +Magellan and Tasman must be here in the room with us now, hovering +here—something of them, come here to inspire and to welcome this new +maker of the history of the sea.</p> + +<p>And I was chosen to be upon such a voyage as this! I think that the +humble sailors of those ancient lurching ships were thrilled by the +adventure of their enterprise, but thrilled even more by a fear as they +fronted the unknown.</p> + + +<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>A MARVELOUS DEEP-SEA CRAFT.</h3> + + +<p>The Dolphin was ready. We went down to Norfolk with Dr. Plantet upon +his last inspection. At least, Polly and I went; Arturo did not go. He +was ill, he said, and indeed he looked it. Flushed of face, with cheeks +these last days gone thinner; brooding eyes, with an uneasy, restless +gaze that seemed always to avoid us.</p> + +<p>Sardonic words came from Dr. Plantet that morning when we left. Arturo +did not answer them; he moved away in the library, as if suddenly +threatened with childish tears. And Dr. Plantet, wounded to the core of +him, I know turned his back upon his son and stalked grimly out.</p> + +<p>I recall that as we ascended the incline to the air-stage runway I +glanced over to the house. At the library window Arturo’s white face +was staring after us.</p> + +<p>Was he afraid? He had said he would go with us on the voyage, of +course. Polly was going. We needed a cook; some one to care for +our physical wants. Who could do that better than Polly? It was +characteristic of Dr. Plantet that he should thus be willing to expose +her to danger. A stoicism, a subversion of all his instinctive inner +feelings of fear—and a warm pride in her that she should want to aid +us and her world.</p> + +<p>How much more keenly, then, did he feel shame for Arturo! Was the boy +a physical coward? Arturo had said he wanted to go, of course. He was +to record in detail our findings; cartographer upon this adventure to +chart the unknown deeps. He had a skill with mathematical drawings; I +could imagine such a task thrilling him.</p> + +<p>Polly tried to hide for him his lame enthusiasm. His fear? We never +discussed it. And I think now it was very strange that we so little +comprehended this boy we all loved.</p> + +<p>We stood in the Norfolk shops, where the artificial testing canal came +up like a dark thread; stood gazing at the Dolphin as she hung in the +cradle over the rectangle of water waiting to receive her. A little +dolphin of a ship indeed, hanging there with her <i>ralite</i> hull +smooth as burnished copper. A dolphin with trimmed tail and sharply +pointed nose. Eighty-two feet of burnished hull, sleek as the body of a +seal.</p> + +<p>We walked around her; Dr. Plantet showed her points with a creator’s +pride. Hardly a projection to mar this sleek exterior. The vertical +and horizontal rudders might have been a tail; the lateral planes, +flexible, sensitive as the wing-tips of a wasp-flyer, were folded +in against the hull, so closely that the cracks of them were barely +visible. A workman on board slid them out for us—fins opening out to +barely a foot of width, trembling in the air like thin steel sheets.</p> + +<p>There were tiny stern ports for the atomic exhausts; the man on board +swung them to show us how in themselves they could guide the vessel. +There were bull’s-eye windows, like freckled patches on the hull; +and under the bow, like a mouth, a tiny port swung open to expose a +torpedo tube, the craft’s single weapon, with the staring eyes of the +Franklin searchlights above it.</p> + +<p>We climbed over the spider-bridge and went on board. A small bull’s-eye +turret came sliding up for surface cruising; a tiny door gave into it +so that we might crouch through and descend the ladder.</p> + +<p>The upper slope of the hull had ingeniously opened to form a small +level deck upon which we might sit with the ship awash.</p> + +<p>Even for the eighty-two-foot length and a bulge at the middle of some +twenty-four-foot diameter, the interior of the Dolphin was surprisingly +small. Dr. Plantet explained to me his principle of reciprocating +pressures, as he called it.</p> + +<p>But I could comprehend, this day, no more than its generalities—a mere +glimpse of the fundamentals of what now is so famous; and it was many +months before I grasped it in detail.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>There was an inner hull, so that the interior space of the vessel was +considerably reduced. Within these two <i>ralite</i> hulls, each of +them reënforced with every modern device, was an intricate core of +tiny passages and cells, with water circulating through them under +pressure. A strange yet simple principle of hydraulics—so difficult +mathematically to grasp that none before had ever imagined it.</p> + +<p>It involved many of the intricate laws of modern hydrodynamics—yet in +theory simple as all great things must be.</p> + +<p>The outer hull, crowded by the immense pressures of the ocean’s depths, +would give inward a trifle, to yield its pressure to the water flowing +in the core. And that internal water, so swift of motion, converted the +pressure we call latent into what now physicists are calling kinetic. +Strange term—kinetic pressure. Strange absorption into harmless +gurgling motion of this crushing ocean force which for so long had held +the deeps impenetrable!</p> + +<p>I stared at Dr. Plantet. “Kinetic pressure?” Yet we have accepted as +simple enough the conversion of other energies to be lost in motion. +Latent energy, kinetic energy—terms simple indeed.</p> + +<p>Dr. Plantet started up the pumps. With my ear near the inner hull I +could hear the water circulating. Bubbling, gurgling at first; and +then, as its speed increased, humming with a sound almost electrical. +And at the windows, which now I knew to be double bull’s-eyes, I could +see the water circulating. A thick flat sheet of it flashing past with +a queer, oscillating, wavelike swing so swift the eye could scarce +remark it.</p> + +<p>“These pumps operate automatically, Jeff. A faster flow, as our depth +increases.” He moved the switch-lever over to another contact; the +humming went up to a higher pitch. “Put your hand on the hull, Jeff.”</p> + +<p>The burnished cold surface was gradually warming. He shut off the +pumps. He added: “Curiously enough, Jeff, it gives us heat against the +cold of the depths.” He smiled. “Rather too much heat, if we use the +pumps for more than an hour. But I have a refrigeration coil to help +cool it. I think we shall have no trouble, even when running deep for +considerable periods of time.”</p> + +<p>We were not long on board the Dolphin this morning; there was so +much that Dr. Plantet had to do. A center passage like a narrow +spider-bridge hung midway of the vessel’s interior.</p> + +<p>Beneath it, in the center, the Parodyne engine lay in its terrace of +burnished blocks, with coils and dials and intensifying tubes glowing +dimly yellow in the gloom as Dr. Plantet started it at its lowest +operating force. Almost silent—a vague burring sound as the electrons +were tossed fluorescent in its storage globe—a green fountain of +burring light, running into the outlets, through the pressure valves +of the water-jacket, to plunge at last into the sea beneath our stern. +Tiny electronic streams—there were six of them—reconverted by the +water’s contact from negligible electric mass into ponderable gas of +radiolite, striking the ocean and forcing the Dolphin forward as a +rocket is thrust upward by the fire-stream from its tail.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>We stood watching the Parodyne for a moment as it worked up its +energy from the morsels of pitchblende it was breaking down into +freed electrons. An ounce of fuel to run us for a day. So silent, so +free-running, one could hardly hear it. A little jewel of a modern +engine, so recently developed that there were only three, even of this +small size, in existence.</p> + +<p>We inspected the several tiny rooms which hung in frames to the sides +of the passage, with the ballast and water tanks and pressure chambers +beneath them. A tiny galley for Polly. Three rooms with bunks; a narrow +space, by courtesy called the diner, with folding table and chairs.</p> + +<p>Forward, beyond the end of the passage, the full conical interior +was built as an instrument room, with the torpedo tube running under +it to nearly amidship, where the torpedoes were stored. The Franklin +projectors were here in the bull’s-eye windows, by which, gazing along +the light, through the jacket of humming water, we could see into the +ocean ahead. I noticed here a score of familiar instruments, and others +strange to me. But Dr. Plantet did not stop now to explain them.</p> + +<p>We went back to the stern. A similar room, rather larger, held charts +and instruments of navigation. A table at which Arturo would work +over the log and the diagrams. And here I saw the apparatus for air +purification—cylinders of oxylithic powder, moisture coils, tubes for +absorbing carbonic acid and all the waste products of our breathing.</p> + +<p>We climbed back to the floor of the shop. By to-morrow our little +vessel would be fully equipped, provisioned, and ready. The Australian +Flyer, westward bound from London to Melbourne, leaving London at +5 <span class="smcap">p.m.</span> to-morrow evening, would stop and pick us up. The +magnetic cranes lowered the Dolphin into the dark rectangle of canal at +our feet. She lay awash, quiescent, waiting. Polly, trembling with the +thrill of it, christened her with proper ceremony, and the little group +of engineers and workmen cheered.</p> + +<p>We flew back home to “Sea End.” The servants had been given a holiday, +and the house was silent as we entered. I recall a sudden pounding of +my heart—the flash of a thought that Arturo might really be ill!</p> + +<p>“Arturo! Arturo!” Polly’s voice held a quiver of anxiety. The lad +should have been at the gateway to greet us, of course. “Arturo!” Her +voice echoed as she ran upstairs. “Arturo—father, Jeff, come here!”</p> + +<p>We rushed up. Arturo’s room was disordered. Some of his clothes and his +luggage cases were gone. His small personal sending radio was gone from +its accustomed table. In its place was a sheet of paper: a penciled +radio code which evidently he had invented. And a note—a few brief +words in his familiar scrawled handwriting.</p> + +<p>We bent over it; pathetic, scrawled little note:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p><span class="smcap">Father dear</span>: Please try to believe in me. Keep the code +and at midnights listen. If I need or want any one, it shall be +only you. I am all confused. I want to do what is best, and I don’t +know. Please try to believe in me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Arturo.</span></p> +</div> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>NEREID OF THE SEA.</h3> + + +<p>The westward-bound Australian mail left its Hendon Airport at 5 +<span class="smcap">p.m.</span>, Greenwich time, August 10. At 9 <span class="smcap">p.m.</span>, +Washington time, in the luminous darkness of the late summer twilight, +we saw its lights over Norfolk—the immense, quadruple banks of its +lighted hull windows. It came down over the landing field where our +little Dolphin, with three of us on board, was lying cradled and ready. +It hovered; its electro-magnetic grapples caught us up; in ten minutes, +with the great flyer on its westward way again, we were stored on its +lower deck.</p> + +<p>Three of us on board: Dr. Plantet, Polly, and myself. We had had no +heart to try and find a last minute substitute for Arturo. We could +handle the Dolphin, we two men. It was, indeed, a craft with every +modern device operated by the levers in its forward instrument room, of +one-man control.</p> + +<p>We had found no trace of Arturo. Dr. Plantet had uttered one anxious, +heartfelt cry: “Why did he not tell me? I would have understood and +advised him.”</p> + +<p>Ah, but there lay the trouble! He would have advised his son; but he +could not, probably, have understood! Whatever Arturo contemplated, +quite evidently he feared that his father would have disapproved of +it. And, disapproving, would have forbidden him to do it, with a gruff +command enforced against all possibility of argument. Arturo knew it; +Polly and I, as we read his timorous, pleading little note, realized it +was true. But Dr. Plantet did not think of that, and there was no one +to tell him, and no use in telling him.</p> + +<p>He had done what he could to trace Arturo. The lad’s own small Wasp was +gone from its hangar. Arturo had gone alone, by air. For an hour that +afternoon when we returned from Norfolk to find him gone, Dr. Plantet +shut himself up with his instruments; notified the authorities; had +every detective bureau at every transfer point and in all the traffic +towers of the country on the watch. But Arturo had evidently planned +carefully. No report of him came to us.</p> + +<p>We were very busy those last hours. With all his worry over his +son—shot through with anger also, I am sure—Dr. Plantet would not let +it interfere with our voyage. That was not his way; though he was right +in that, of course. We were not going on a mere experimental voyage +to try and chart the great unknown deeps. That was a mere incidental. +The oceans were still receding; the deeps might soon be dry, so that +any one could see and explore them. By this August 10, another eight +fathoms were gone from the oceans. Some eighteen fathoms in all—over +a hundred feet. We heard a newscaster give the figures on the evening +of August 9. The oceans down nearly a hundred feet below low tide +levels, everywhere, and the world was seething with the confusion of it.</p> + +<p>Our voyage might locate the cause. But, most important of all, we hoped +to locate this unknown enemy race, somewhere down there, to whose +existence so much evidence had pointed. An enemy, perhaps making ready +to attack our world; we must determine that, one way or the other; +locate the point of attack, if attack there were to be; estimate its +nature, and the best methods of repulsing it. These were the main +reasons for our voyage. The fate of our world might depend upon our +success—and no disappearance of a wayward son could swerve Dr. Plantet +from the least detail of his starting preparations. Within an hour the +affair seemed to be wiped from his mind.</p> + +<p>Flying southwest, the mailship carried us over Mexico during that +evening. We passed to the Pacific at latitude twenty-two degrees N. +At fifteen degrees N. and one hundred and twenty degrees W., some one +thousand two hundred miles off the Mexican coast, Dr. Plantet told them +that they could put us down. By local time for that longitude, it was +then nearly midnight.</p> + +<p>The cranes lowered us into a placid sea; we lay awash, the three of us +standing on the tiny deck of the Dolphin, watching the lights of the +great liner vanish among the southwest stars. The lights winked, red +and green and purple, and presently were gone.</p> + +<p>We were alone on the falling Pacific. Our enterprise was begun!</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>I must recount now the strange adventure to which Arturo had set +himself alone. From what he afterward told Polly, and, to a lesser +degree, his father and myself, I can construct a picture of it. A +picture no doubt lacking much in detail, for none could fathom the +emotions that beset him. Yet withal it may be fairly accurate, for I +doubt if he himself could have analyzed his motives.</p> + +<p>Guiding him, no doubt, was the clear vision that upon his own slender +shoulders might rest the salvation of his world. That, perhaps, was his +compelling urge. I have no doubt but that he thought so. But beneath +it, mingled with it, was what may have been an even stronger urge—a +strange lure.</p> + +<p>He had planned it for a long time. He had fought against it, for there +was a fear lurking in it, a strange instinctive dread, mingled with +the urge that seemed rushing him on. He would have gone before, but he +could not find opportunity. Our departure for Norfolk that morning gave +him his chance.</p> + +<p>There was a night—I think it was the evening of August 1—when he made +up his mind definitely that he must act alone. It was that evening we +heard the newscaster say that a fast air cruiser had been dispatched by +the American Government from Guam to the uninhabited island upon which +the mermaid had been reported. A formidable company of marines had +landed with a flourish upon the outer shoals to which the ocean now had +receded. They had scrambled up to the beach and searched the island to +capture this mermaid. But nothing human or otherwise had been found to +capture.</p> + +<p>It came to Arturo evidently as at once a disappointment and a +relief. And it spurred him to his decision. If his adventure had any +rationality, any possibility of success, it must be undertaken alone. I +think, too, that secretly in his heart he welcomed this.</p> + +<p>He took his radio sender and a copy of his improvised radio code; in +his Wasp, which he had provisioned and fueled, he started from “Sea +End” within an hour after we had left. The Wasp, tiny as it was, could +do a good three hundred. He flew north, and high, taking his chances +with the traffic towers, who would have ordered him down below the five +thousand foot lane upon any normal occasion. But this was not a normal +occasion. The country was in confusion; the air directors were all +more or less lax. Arturo was visible that morning to a score of their +finders. But none, evidently, bothered to record his number; and when +the air police, dutifully pursuing Dr. Plantet’s inquiry, sought to +check the travel, there was no one to report his passage.</p> + +<p>Arturo was no fool. He had guessed all this, and played upon it. He +clung to the ten and twenty thousand foot through lanes. With his three +hundred mile speed he swept north far into Quebec; turned west, passing +over the Dominion, where he guessed they would be even more lax. He +went west, crossed the middle of Vancouver Island. At Alberni he took +a necessary chance and refueled. He had played skillfully for his +favorable wind-drift, and made good time. By ten o’clock that evening +he was over the Pacific.</p> + +<p>He headed now southwest. It was a calm, clear night. The ten thousand +foot lane was deserted. He lashed his controls, set his warning bells, +and went to sleep.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The sun was rising when he awakened. The deserted sea beneath him was +calm. No islands were in sight. The air was clear of craft.</p> + +<p>He seemed poised, motionless and alone between the two matched domes of +sea and sky. He was young enough to be thoroughly refreshed and hungry. +He had slept very nearly nine hours; he ate a lavish breakfast.</p> + +<p>Then he took his position. He found himself in thirty-two degrees +twenty minutes N. and one hundred and fifty-five degrees six minutes W. +Four hours of elapsed time afterward he swept over Gardner Island of +the Hawaiians. The sun was still well in the east—he was gaining an +hour of comparative local time for every fifteen degrees of longitude +he traversed on his westward flight.</p> + +<p>He had feared that the Gardner tower might challenge him, but they did +not.</p> + +<p>It was a long day of flight, but his eager thoughts possessed him. She +might perhaps be there on her island. He wondered if it were the same +girl he and I had seen in the globe beneath the surface. We had seen +that face in the ocean not very far from this same island where the +mermaid was reported.</p> + +<p>Had she been on her way up from the abyss then? Coming up, perhaps +alone? For what reason?</p> + +<p>If she had still been upon the island, those marines, landing there +with such a vainglorious, belligerent gesture, undoubtedly would +have frightened her. She would have hidden, plunging into the lagoon +perhaps, to await their departure. She might still be there. And +Arturo, alone—he told himself that he would not frighten her. He found +himself trembling. Ah, it would not be she who would be frightened; yet +with every fiber of him he longed to encounter her.</p> + +<p>The setting sun before him found Arturo and his little Wasp in the +neighborhood of nine degrees thirty minutes N., one hundred and +fifty-seven degrees twenty-five minutes E. He had met a fresh, strong +head-wind for most of the day. And his engine, over this long, +continuous flight, had been giving him some trouble. He had cut down +his speed. But he was here, at sunset; it was that same evening of +August 10 during which our little Dolphin was being carried westward by +the Australian mail.</p> + +<p>In the late afternoon Arturo had passed over the Northern +Marshalls—the tip of the Ratack Chain. He had seen several of the +through Flyers during the day, passing to the sides far above him; but +none had spoken him.</p> + +<p>“Nereid’s Island.” He was already calling it that in his mind. He would +call her Nereid.</p> + +<p>He had not wanted to reach here before the sunset anyway. In the golden +path of the setting sun he raised the island. At low speed his motor +was quite silent. He might have been a softly humming wasp, circling +over the lonely little island, coming gently down, circling.</p> + +<p>It lay, a strangely augmented patch of land in the fallen ocean. All +around it was a low, outside circular area of green-black and coral +rocks, sloping steeply upward, strewn with shriveled, drying marine +vegetation—at the bottom of which the sea was lapping. A sodden, +upward rocky slope led to where, high up in the air, a fringe of +white beach lay queerly dry. Above that, a crescent area of palms and +vegetation. The inner lagoon was dry—an empty, sandy bowl, perched up +there in the air on a spreading rocky base.</p> + +<p>It seemed no earthly island; a small mountain top with a shallow crater +in its center and a strange fringe of trees and meaningless beach.</p> + +<p>There was no sign of moving object. With his heart pounding, Arturo +gazed down. There were many caverns and pools in the lower slopes from +which the ocean had fallen—she could hide there very easily.</p> + +<p>And then he saw, or thought he saw, something unusual—the bulge of a +metallic surface. It lay nearly submerged in a rift of rock far down +the outer slope at the water’s edge. The globe we had seen in the ocean +that night?</p> + +<p>He fancied so. Lying in that position it would have been well covered +by water when the marines were here.</p> + +<p>In the glowing, glorious twilight of that tropic night, Arturo landed +in the basin of the empty lagoon, then rolled his Wasp up the gentle +slope of the inner beach.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>He sat there that evening, silently waiting. Over him spread the +blazing southern stars strewn on purple velvet. The arching palm fronds +whispered about him as the night breeze stirred them. Ahead, down the +slope of beach and lower slope of rocks, the sea lay quietly breathing. +A quarter moon was following the vanished sun. It dropped a bright +silver path on the water; it glorified the beach; it laid upon the +brooding little island an amorous spell.</p> + +<p>Arturo sat, edged with silver. Would she see him? Would she be too +frightened? Was she, perhaps, not here at all?</p> + +<p>The moon fell lower. He went, with sudden thought, back to his plane. +He sat again under the palm, and the low voice of his violin throbbed +into the somnolent night. He wondered if she would be as frightened, as +emotion-swept as himself.</p> + +<p>I think, as he sat there softly playing, that the world of 1990 was far +away from Arturo. I think his mind must have been flung back, past all +the counted centuries to those fabulous, magic times when the sea had +no history, but only legend. One of the sailors of Ulysses, with his +ears stuffed with wax against temptation, but being more courageous, or +perhaps weaker than his fellows, might have slipped ashore—and waited +thus, with the wax cast away, singing perhaps a soft song of his own to +tell that he had yielded.</p> + +<p>Arturo must have trembled, as the song of his violin was trembling. +Was this a daughter of Amphitrite, mockingly cast in the fashion of a +woman? Or was it a human girl?</p> + +<p>And then he saw her. Partly behind him, among the long, slanting +shadows of the palms. A dark figure edged in a silver patch. It stood +motionless; then it moved toward him a trifle, and stood again.</p> + +<p>Arturo laid his violin and bow beside him on the sand and very quietly +got to his feet. He could see her better now, only a few yards away. A +small, slim figure of a girl, white-limbed, but flushed like moonlit +coral. A brief, dangling robe, which might have been green; smooth, +lustrous green, as though a fabric of softly woven metal, painted green +by the sea.</p> + +<p>He stood tense, unmoving. The moonlight was on him—his slight, boyish +figure of long, slim black trousers, and white ruffled shirt; his black +tousled hair thick in waves over his pale forehead.</p> + +<p>He stood trembling. She moved again toward him. The moonlight struck +her face. Ah, this must be a human girl! He saw her features—a face of +strange, soft beauty; wide eyes, parted coral lips; a face, timorous, +gentle, eagerly wondering. And framing her face, lying in waves upon +her coral shoulders, a tangled mass of tawny hair.</p> + +<p>No fabulous siren, this! A strange, but very human girl—and yet, for +all that, a siren.</p> + +<p>Arturo spoke, tremblingly, very gently.</p> + +<p>“Nereid! Can you hear me? Can you understand?”</p> + +<p>She stood frozen. But her lips parted with a smile. He said: “Nereid!” +He moved slowly toward her.</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>THEIR LONELY, LOVELY LITTLE ISLAND.</h3> + + +<p>The Dolphin lay, that midnight of August 10-11, awash on the surface of +the Pacific some twelve hundred miles southwest of the Mexican coast. +I had thought that for the time Arturo was far from Dr. Plantet’s +mind. But not so. He made no move to start our voyage until for half +an hour at least he had listened to the air. It was seething with +world-activity—the silent echoes of our busy, modern life. But the +sub-split wave-length which Arturo’s code specified, was dead.</p> + +<p>Dr. Plantet turned at last away. “Nothing there.” He spoke in +matter-of-fact tone, but I could guess at the emotion it was hiding. +“Nothing there—well, we must remember to try again to-morrow night.”</p> + +<p>There was in his manner what seemed to forbid discussion of Arturo. +Indeed, we had much of our own concerns to busy us. We were to head, +Dr. Plantet had planned, directly for the Micronesian islands. Most of +the tangible evidence bearing upon the existence of a human menace, had +seemed to come from that locality. The Malaysia had been lost in there, +and several others of the surface freighters. And the submersible of my +own line. Again, it was there that Arturo and I had seen the face in +the sea; and the mermaid had been seen there.</p> + +<p>“I think,” said Dr. Plantet, “that if we are to locate this hidden +enemy at all, it will be upon some of the rises in sub-sea Micronesia.”</p> + +<p>There was another factor that made him think so. For weeks he had been +assembling world-data showing a disturbance of the ocean currents. +With oceans receding, the water was seeping away somewhere. That the +normal ocean currents were changing was unquestioned. The evidence +was inconclusive, but there seemed to be an unmistakable drift toward +the mid-Pacific. And Dr. Plantet thought that upon the ocean floor in +Micronesia we might find evidence of the outlet.</p> + +<p>We had had, he and I, a considerable discussion on these points.</p> + +<p>“We can only try, Jeff,” he said at last. “But two thousand fathoms, +even with our five hundred fathoms of additional vision, will show us +no more than the mid-depth rises.”</p> + +<p>The mountain ridges. Or the great submerged plateaus; domes; volcanic +sub-sea cones. But if, in the lower basins, the great caldrons or the +deeps, this enemy was lurking, we would have to wait until the water +materially was lowered. And that might be months, or years.</p> + +<p>We were starting from this point so comparatively near the continent +because obviously it might not be in Micronesia at all that the menace +lay. I had wanted to cruise the American continental shelf. Dr. Plantet +would not take the time. He was convinced the danger lay farther +west. But he had agreed that we should start here, and cruise across, +searching as we went.</p> + +<p>We closed up the Dolphin. The turret slid down after us. For all my +hundred sub-sea trips in the Pacific, my heart was beating fast. Polly +touched my hand, as we moved forward along the passage. Her fingers +were cold; but in the dim light I caught her sturdy glance, and saw +that her lips were smiling.</p> + +<p>“Starting, Jeff—at last.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.” I pressed her hand.</p> + +<p>We gathered, all three of us, in the bow instrument room. Dr. Plantet +fingered the control levers. The Franklin lights sputtered and glowed +with their steady white beams; through the circular windows, the light +sprayed ahead of us in the green ocean just below the surface. The +jacket-pumps were throbbing. The windows dimmed a trifle with the +passing sheet of water; but when it flashed faster, they brightened. +The Parodyne atomic engine was operating; the water tanks were filling +under pressure; the lateral planes, like fins, were extended from the +hull outside.</p> + +<p>We had settled, barely to tip the surface. I flung the water-ballast +to the bow; in the silence with only the burring of the Parodyne and +the humming of the pumps, the water came forward with a swish. The bow +dipped. I held the rudder-levers; and released the atomic streams.</p> + +<p>We slid smoothly forward and downward. Little Dolphin, sliding, +forcing its way into the depths, with green phosphorescent sprays of +fire from its sides.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>It is not my present purpose to describe in detail this voyage. Under +other, less vital circumstances, it would have had a scientific +interest beyond any enterprise of the sea which for centuries had been +undertaken. But we were too engrossed in what we sought—too absorbed +in the possibility that at any moment we, like those others, might be +attacked. In what strange, unnatural fashion we could not guess. It +kept us tense—an aspect of the voyage which we had hardly discussed, +but of which we were very keenly aware, every moment.</p> + +<p>We had only one weapon—the torpedo tube. Six small torpedoes, each +loaded with some three hundred pounds of trinitrotoluene as its +explosive charge. There were also a dozen of the more modern cylinder +bombs of miscellaneous variety, to be dispatched through the same tube. +A mere gesture of warfare! I could not feel that against this enemy it +would be more than a gesture.</p> + +<p>We slid down from the surface. Ah, that first plunge! At the beginning +it was no more than running level, save that I could feel the Parodyne +laboring a trifle and our forward thrust slackening. There was nothing +to see but the dim green water rushing at our lights. Then I saw a fish +of an unfamiliar type; it hung stupidly in the light and then moved +away. We very nearly struck it.</p> + +<p>Five hundred fathoms. A thousand. The red column in the pressure +indicator was rising steadily. The ship was laboring, struggling. The +Parodyne at its higher intensities, developed unexpected strength; the +pressure pumps were humming with a shrill electrical whine.</p> + +<p>Fifteen hundred.</p> + +<p>Dr. Plantet said awkwardly: “I wouldn’t—I’d rather not take her below +eighteen hundred, Jeff. Not at first.”</p> + +<p>Seventeen hundred. The water seemed darker, more turgid, as though down +here the sediment of dead organisms were settled in it like a fog.</p> + +<p>Eighteen hundred!</p> + +<p>“Enough, Jeff; hold us. Watch for elevations of the floor.”</p> + +<p>I could imagine from the aspect of the water that we might be near +the ocean floor. We slid ahead. Our chart showed in this region of +the Pacific an estimated depth of two thousand five hundred to three +thousand five hundred fathoms. But it was not so at this particular +point. Even with all the patient thousands of soundings, how could +they chart with any detailed accuracy the wide-spread ocean basins! We +turned one of the Franklin lights downward.</p> + +<p>A rising slope lay close beneath us, dark and cold, and seemingly black +or dark-red ooze. The ocean floor! Smooth in its contours, almost +level along here, with a gentle rise before us. Protected by the water +from the rapid, sub-aërial erosion which sharpens the features of the +land, piled by the regular accumulation of deposits, it stretched +heavy-featured, morose, mysterious. I could imagine the cold waters +from the frozen poles flowing in sluggish, heavy currents along this +bottom.</p> + +<p>But it was not all so uniform. We had of lighted region ahead of us +barely half a mile. A rounded cliff came sweeping at us. I turned us +aside; the cliff went up and backward to merge with a dome.</p> + +<p>Then presently we found ourselves in a furrow, with elevations on both +sides. We passed, when the furrow widened, over a great black caldron. +The lip of it rose to a thousand fathoms. It was forty miles across—a +pit of blackness, possibly four thousand fathoms or more in its depth, +as though here were some giant crater, filled and immersed. We went to +two thousand fathoms in it, and then rose and surmounted its opposite +rim.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>But there is no one now to whom the physical conformations of our ocean +basins need be a mystery. And such details here are out of place.</p> + +<p>We ran directly west on the fifteenth North Parallel. We made, each +twenty-four hours, some twelve hundred to fourteen hundred miles. I +give, not the nautical, but the statute measurements. The nautical now, +is turning to be a thing of history. It was midnight of August 14-15 +when our westward searching voyage was ended. Four days, during which +we saw enough details to fill a weighty volume confirming or denying +the groping research and speculations of science.</p> + +<p>But to what purpose? The deep sea animals, the vegetation of the +deeps—it will all find its place in the history of the sea. It has no +place here, for I am concerned only with the little parts my friends +and I played in this great world crisis. Of what use dogmatically to +explain that the great Pacific Basin is not altogether what the charts +picture it? Why describe the steeply narrow ridge winding like a thin +mountain chain up to eight hundred fathoms at its highest elevations, +crossing and recrossing the fifteen parallel? Or mention, as its +discoverer, what now they call the “Country of the Moon”? Jagged pits +and tumbled crags over that plateau a hundred miles in westward extent? +We found that it stretched barely fourteen hundred fathoms deep.</p> + +<p>Such things in detail would obtrude a pedantry into my tale.</p> + +<p>We were south of Hawaii, the midnight of August 12-13. We listened, as +we had listened the previous midnight, for Arturo. But his wave-length +still was dead. We crossed into the Eastern Hemisphere about midnight +of August 13-14. Again no signal from Arturo. Why should there be? I +asked it to myself; I could not dare to voice it to the anxious Polly +and her father. Arturo had said he might signal. But when, or from +where? Perhaps he might not wish to. Or he might be desperately anxious +to do so, and could not. Futile, meaningless speculation.</p> + +<p>We had found that the Dolphin labored under the downward thrust; was +difficult to hold level at the depths; and we slid up the incline when +ascending with a speed too great for safety. I set down these random +notes from my log.</p> + +<p>No sign, either of an enemy attack upon us, or of an enemy’s very +existence. No indication of a rift in the ocean floor. We sometimes +wondered if either one existed. Yet that too, was a futile question! +We had followed a narrow line, like a thread across this small section +of the ocean. More than four-fifths of the time, with the depth too +great for us to see anything, we had shot up to the surface and run +at a few fathoms of depth for the greater safety. We had seen only +an infinitesimal part even of this tiny portion of the area in which +our enemy might be lurking. The futility of it struck us at last. It +occurred to Dr. Plantet, that the sub-marine slopes of the great rise +crowned by the Societies and Tahiti might be worth investigating. +Or the upper reaches of the Japan trench. Or, in fact, any of the +continental shelves. I did not remind him that this latter had been my +original idea.</p> + +<p>We were running north of the Marshalls at noon of August 14. At +midnight, that night, again we listened for Arturo. And this time his +signal came!</p> + +<p>His call, given in the code, repeated at intervals. We answered it, on +our own wave-length which Dr. Plantet was sure the lad knew, if only he +would remember. He did remember, and flashed:</p> + +<p>“Your position?”</p> + +<p>We told him. He sent us:</p> + +<p>“Come at once—nine degrees thirty minutes N., one hundred and +fifty-seven degrees twenty-five minutes E. Hurry!”</p> + +<p>His wave-length went dead. To all our frantic questions it held only +silence.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>I can picture Arturo, there with Nereid for those four days upon their +lonely, lovely little island. But of necessity it must be a fragmentary +picture with much that I can only guess; and built, too, somewhat from +my own impressions of the girl as afterward I saw her for myself; and +as Polly saw her, and tried to talk with her. The whole translated by +my own poor fancy, into a picture of what Arturo’s emotions for her +must have been.</p> + +<p>She could, even at first, understand his words a trifle; a British +sailor had been drawn under alive, and had lived long enough to teach +her and others some of his language. She learned it with an unnatural +facility. A few broken words that first night; she said them and no +more. But she understood and she was learning; so eager to learn!</p> + +<p>I try now to imagine them that first night of their meeting. There +was a shy, wild fear about her, mingled with a very evident desire +not to be afraid of him. He could not touch her, but he sat near her; +so quietly, so gently. And as I think of his gentle, boyish, romantic +figure, there in the moonlight, I can realize that none but himself +could have approached her.</p> + +<p>Perhaps, that first night, they conversed only in the universal +language of youth. Their crossing glances, eager yet shy, their own +thoughts of what the other must be, as they gazed. Perhaps they drew +together with the universal language of music. Perhaps he again played +his violin for her. Perhaps she sang for him. There is no one to say.</p> + +<p>He found her human as himself. A young girl, barely yet matured, +fashioned with almost a normal earthly beauty, and yet with a strange +something about her, making her different. It was not her slim rounded +limbs, white and flushed with the tint of coral. Nor the thick tawny +tresses, framing her timorous, girlish face. Nor yet her fashion of +dress—her shimmering robe, with moonbeams dancing on it like green sea +water ripples in moonlight. None of these, though in truth they were +all strange enough.</p> + +<p>It was something greater. A wild shyness in her manner; she sat, half +reclining by the palm-trunk; but it seemed that every nerve and muscle +in the young body was tense, as though she would spring away if too +suddenly he moved. A gentle animal, bred in the wilds, might be like +that, mistrustful of the first human hand to approach it.</p> + +<p>And other strange things about her. Her gestures, graceful, yet often +meaningless. And her eyes, as she sat regarding Arturo. The sea was +in her eyes, the changing sea, whipped with wind, dim with mist, wan +with starlight. He gazed, over long silences, into her eyes. They held +level, as she gazed with equal wonderment into his.</p> + +<p>The mystery of the sea was in her eyes. Unfathomable green depths. Eyes +that had seen things he had never seen; things queer, unnatural to him. +But her youth was there; her human womanhood. It glowed eager, yet +afraid; it met him, and it understood him, strange though he must have +been to her.</p> + +<p>I think also, that first night, she tried to talk with him. He +understood at least, her desire to learn his words. And presently he +began teaching her.</p> + +<p>There are other fragmentary pictures I can give. The dawn flushed the +east, and it seemed to frighten her. She moved away from Arturo. But he +followed. She came to a sort of cave entrance; it lay part way down the +rocky slope from which the ocean had so recently receded, and was still +partly filled with water. She slipped into it. Ah, then he must have +been struck with her strangeness anew! She lay in the water relaxed; +a familiarity with it, as though she scarce had remarked that it was +water and not the land. It was not very deep, a few feet, lying in a +passage which seemed to run back into what perhaps was a dark cave here +in the rocks.</p> + +<p>Arturo waded in after her; and as she stood up, for the first time, +she touched him. Her fingers were warm and human. Her touch pushed him +away. She slid again into the water and with a silent swimming stroke, +was gone back into the darkness.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The sunrise came full. Arturo was very tired. He ate, and slept. He +went that midday, to the cave entrance. No sign of her. He wondered if +he should go in, and at last he started. But there was a place where +the passage ended. The water stood waist-deep and touched the lowering +ceiling. She had evidently gone under it. Or had she left the island?</p> + +<p>He returned outside. Down the slope he saw the rounded top of her +globe. The high tide had brought the ocean pounding over it; the sea +was rougher this day. But her globe was still there. She had not gone.</p> + +<p>She came out again when night had fully fallen. He found then that it +was the daylight which frightened her; blinded her.</p> + +<p>She let him follow her into the cave that second night. She swam so +humanly graceful and yet with a natural grace surpassing what we call +human. It was only a few feet underwater, where the passage roof +chanced to bend down. Arturo was by all our earthly standards, a good +swimmer. He followed her.</p> + +<p>She had in the small cave her own supply of food and fresh water, +brought from her globe. She seemed able to see, in that degree of +darkness. But Arturo had to go back to his plane and bring a small +vacuum bulb; he kept it shaded from her. They ate together—food +unknown to Arturo. They laughed together, tried to talk. He went out +and brought his own food from the plane, and let her taste it.</p> + +<p>They swam together in the deep little pool that covered half the +cave-floor. He sat and watched her, later, while she disported herself +alone, as a girl of our world might dance for her audience of one; a +slim, green-and-coral-tinted nymph at play. He saw that she swam under +the surface for several times the length he could manage; but she +always came up breathless and very human. He saw her limbs flashing +in the water with a silent, gliding grace; her tangled, tawny hair +floating like seaweed. Her eyes were often laughing; dancing like the +sea in the moonlight under a soft, fair night-breeze.</p> + +<p>She lay in the shallow water at its edge, her hair tumbling over her +back; her shoulders and head raised, elbows down with chin propped by +her hands. Her eyes dancing at him—</p> + +<p>“Flinging back a million moonbeams, the tropic sea reminds me of thine +eyes.” He murmured it. “That’s the way you look, Nereid. Oh, if you +could only understand me.”</p> + +<p>She seemed to like it. “Say—that—” Her voice was soft, with liquid +tones. “Say—that—” She thought for a space. “Say that—one time +more—”</p> + +<p>He said it again. She came up from the water, and sat beside him, +abruptly serious. The water dripped from her green robe; her tawny hair +dripped with it. She was abruptly serious. She understood far more than +he realized; she could talk, with long spaces of thought between the +words.</p> + +<p>He stared into her eyes now when they were neither laughing, nor +timorous, and saw there an intelligence as great as his own. Different, +with all its knowledge different, and yet very much the same. He +caught through those sea-green windows, a glimpse of the girl herself. +Purposeful, anxious, apprehensive, not for herself, or himself, or +anything of their own concerns, but something greater.</p> + +<p>And that evening, or the next, or both, she began giving him fragments +of strange and startling things.</p> + +<p>He had been in his mind following the probable course of our Dolphin. +He knew our plans; he could estimate that at midnight of August 14, we +would very likely be at our closest point to him. And it was that night +that he got out his sending instrument. With Nereid sitting beside +him, he connected it. He saw anew, the real girl which was Nereid. +Her glance, quickly intelligent, following all his strange movements; +the solemn intentness with which she watched him carrying out their +agreed-upon plans.</p> + +<p>For there was between her and Arturo now a mutual, secret, absorbing +purpose. And for all their youth they executed it unswervingly.</p> + +<p>One picture more I can give. Polly had it from Arturo, when just for +one brief moment on the Dolphin she reached him with her sisterly +affection. There was a night, there on the island, when suddenly swept +by longing, he held out his arms to Nereid. She came quite close to +him, and gazed, with the tip of her hand holding him off. He saw, far +in the tender moonlit sea of her eyes, the answer he sought. But her +lips and her restraining hand denied him. He said, like a very manly, +human boy:</p> + +<p>“Why, yes—you’re right, Nereid.”</p> + +<p>And her tender eyes, dimmed suddenly by mist, were thanking him as he +turned away.</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>THIS ENEMY INFERNAL!</h3> + + +<p>In the pink and gold tropic dawn of the morning of August 15, we took +them aboard the Dolphin. Arturo did not mention, then, the globe of +metal lying there in the rocks at the ocean’s edge. We did not chance +to notice it. We left Arturo’s plane—he said, with a quiet force which +had come to him, that even if we could have taken it, we had no use for +it.</p> + +<p>They came out from the rocky slope, swimming to us as we lay near by. +I saw the girl, like a nymph, swimming. She was nearly always under +water. Each time as she came up, and waited for Arturo to overtake her, +he seemed directing her.</p> + +<p>We drew them aboard. I saw her then as a girl much smaller, more slim +of figure than Arturo, standing drooping, with her face hidden in the +tangle of her hair and her crooked arm. She was blinded by the light of +the dawn. Frightened, perhaps, by our voices, by our clutching hands as +we drew her up the Dolphin’s side.</p> + +<p>Arturo carried her to one of the Dolphin’s tiny rooms. There in the +dark, barring us, he left her.</p> + +<p>A quiet force had come to Arturo. He met his father’s questions and +turned them aside. It was this time not sullenness, not brooding, nor +anything neurotic. A quiet force, rather, a purpose. There were things +that he would tell us, and things that he would not. No fire from his +father could shake him. No irony touched him. No pleading from Polly +could soften him. Yet, with it all, he was tender, affectionate; and +underneath, I think, sometimes a little wistful.</p> + +<p>This was a new Arturo. It struck Dr. Plantet sharply. There was one +brief passage in which Dr. Plantet was so obviously the loser, for +he said much, and Arturo said almost nothing. And when it was ended, +Arturo kissed his father.</p> + +<p>“I want you to believe in me. You will have to trust me, father, there +isn’t any other way; you’ll have to go it blind. I’m sorry—and I love +you, all of you, very much—”</p> + +<p>It was in these latter words that I caught the wistful note, a gentle +sorrow, mingled with his purpose.</p> + +<p>It was Arturo now who gave us orders. That Dr. Plantet obeyed them, +with the knowledge that Arturo knew more than he, I think is a tribute +to the man’s inherent bigness. Nor, after those first hours, were there +any clashes or recriminations. We did what Arturo so gently but firmly +suggested we should do. But he would give us very little explanation. +Even without any compact he may have had with Nereid to enforce his +reticence, he was right; had he told us his full purpose, we would have +restrained him.</p> + +<p>We ran northeast, close under the surface. The course would take +us south and east of Wake Island, and then we were to head for the +northwestern end of the Hawaiian archipelago. Beyond that—the mere +laying down of our course and our depth—we knew very little.</p> + +<p>In thirty-six hours we were near Ocean and Midway Islands. It was late +afternoon of August 16.</p> + +<p>For myself that day and a half, I scarcely saw Nereid. But to the +picture of her through Arturo’s eyes which I have given, I can add the +woman-impressions as Polly saw her; and glimpse her with Dr. Plantet’s +prosaic, classifying viewpoint of the scientist.</p> + +<p>She would not talk to Polly. But she seemed to understand Polly’s words +quite well. A very gentle little girl, shy, but seeming readily to +respond to human affection. She evidently took a great liking to Polly, +and the feeling was mutual.</p> + +<p>They sat once, in the gloom of the tiny room with their arms around +each other; Nereid’s body was soft and warm and yielding; but there +was a firmness to it, and apparently a considerable strength for all +its frail aspect. Nereid seemed quickly affectionate toward this other +girl; but it was the mistrustful affection of a creature of the wilds. +She drew away sharply at one of Polly’s questions.</p> + +<p>She was a creature of swift-springing moods. Polly admits she tried to +win the girl, to gain her trust, to make her answer questions. Once, +in that dim light of the tiny cabin, Polly caught the expression on +Nereid’s face. A whimsical smile; an amusement that this girl of the +great, bright, atmospheric world should think her so simple. It struck +Polly with chagrin and humiliation. This Nereid was no fool.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Dr. Plantet, with Arturo standing watchfully in the doorway, had +several opportunities of studying Nereid. Oh, the passionate obsession +of science for classification! As though one could capture the moods of +the sea and set them down in logical, descriptive sequence!</p> + +<p>Dr. Plantet found that Nereid was really not her name. He made her say +her name, but he could think of no sounds in our earthly languages to +represent it fairly. He found her, in height four feet eleven inches. +In weight, ninety-one pounds. Coarse, thick, unruly hair, apparently of +human structure; in length nearly to her knees; in color, tawny.</p> + +<p>Her skin was soft, smooth, and white, with coral pink and red flush to +it. He found her eyes light green; but apparently changing in their +shade. A trifle tinted very pale green over the white eyeball. The tiny +capillaries on the eyeball were pale coral pink rather than red. The +pupils, with a deep green light in them, were overlarge, but shrank +suddenly at the slightest light, and suffused readily with moisture. +Her eyelids were thin as a delicate coral veil, with curving lashes, +long and thick and tawny.</p> + +<p>He found her apparently intelligent, shy and gentle. Of human stock; +but different from ourselves in a score of details which he set down. A +slightly rounder skull-shape; broader hips and higher breasts. Fingers +and toes slimmer and longer. The skin connecting the fingers and toes +crossed nearly at the middle joint, suggesting a closer heritage to a +time when a membrane might have been there, making the members webbed.</p> + +<p>He found her chest high and deep, with a proportionately greater +lung-capacity than ours. Her breath, he surmised, could without undue +discomfort, be held for at least five minutes while under water.</p> + +<p>A human specimen of wholly different stock from any of our known +earthly races. A civilization advanced as far perhaps, as our own; but +obviously in a different direction. It was, he wrote down, as though on +the great family tree of mankind, this were a blossom on a different +branch and a wholly different limb.</p> + +<p>He felt, when the case were closely studied, that evidence would be +found to show that this was the parent stock of earth-humanity. Itself +risen directly from the creatures of the sea. That from this stock, it +was we who branched off, to leave the depths, ascend to the air and the +land and sunlight and rise through the primates into what now we were +pleased to call Man.</p> + +<p>Dr. Plantet was very enthusiastic over Nereid. With scientific zeal he +looked eagerly forward to the moment when he would present her to the +study of our world-scientists. I remarked Arturo’s strange expression +as his father said that.</p> + +<p>On the late afternoon of August 16, we were just south of Ocean and +Midway Islands, those extreme northwestern outposts of the Hawaiians. +It was then Arturo told us what little we were to know of those things +he had learned from Nereid.</p> + +<p>We gathered in the stern chart-room; the Dolphin lay awash on the +surface of a placid sea. With sudden decision Arturo brought Nereid in +to join us. He shaded the light carefully for her and in the gloom of a +corner of the floor, she sat watching us.</p> + +<p>It was one of the few times I had seen her. I noticed with what a +quiet dignity she came in, following Arturo’s guiding hand; and with +what intent, alert intelligence she sat watching and listening. She +did not speak; but once or twice I saw her nod with confirmation of +Arturo’s words.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“There is not much I can tell you, father. But enough. Please do not +question me—for if you do, I will tell nothing.” He threatened it, +quietly, but with a very firm, very convincing finality.</p> + +<p>“Many of your theories, father, are correct. There is a race of people +under the ocean beds—I think largely here under the Pacific. Nereid, +as you see her here before you, is, I am sure, a representative +of the higher portion of this other civilization. It menaces +us—you were right about that, father! The conquest of our world is +contemplated—and has already begun. Soon I—we, Nereid and I, will +show you.”</p> + +<p>Dr. Plantet sat very still. I knew that a score of questions were +storming within him. He sat, regarding Arturo with keen, scientifically +appraising glance. He saw Arturo striving now to talk with a precise, +scientific exactness, but failing, for the lad was evidently laboring +under a tense excitement. Dr. Plantet was enough of the physician to +understand his son’s condition; he knew that very easily Arturo could +fall into a stubborn silence which nothing could break through. And Dr. +Plantet did not dare question.</p> + +<p>But I was not so self-controlled. I burst out, “Arturo, look here—the +water is leaving our oceans. Why? And why can’t you tell us everything +you know? Why pick and choose? With the fate of our world at stake—”</p> + +<p>He turned on me. “You’re childish, Jeff. I’m telling you as clearly as +I can. I don’t know very much myself—do you think that Nereid has been +able to give me a complete scientific report on all these questions +which you would like answered? Our world is doubtless at stake, as you +say. This enemy is ruthless—inhuman by all our standards of humanity. +Oh, do not judge the enemy you will have to confront by what you see +of gentle Nereid! Yes, the oceans will probably empty of water. The +‘Gians’ have contrived it. How long it will take, I do not know. Where +the main rift is—or how many rifts there are—I do not know. I think +there is one in sub-marine Micronesia—I don’t know just where—”</p> + +<p>Polly stammered, “The people—‘Gians’?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Polly, you can call them that—this enemy. The word Nereid gives +me sounds about like that. I don’t know what weapons they have. Nereid +doesn’t know; she is neither a warrior nor a scientist—just a girl. +If I knew the weapons with which they will attack, I’d describe them +quickly enough!”</p> + +<p>He spoke with a rising vehemence. “Our world will have to defend +itself, father! You were right in your fears! The main attacks may +not come until after the ocean beds are dry. It will be a land-fight +then—in these new strange lands that we have never seen! Or there +may be an attack very shortly. The Gians, an army of them, are coming +up. Moving up an equipment of weapons. It may be merely an experiment +preparatory to the main warfare. Nereid has heard it may be; I +certainly hope so.” He paused, then suddenly added: “They are moving +upon the Hawaiian group, not far from here—down near Maui. We’re going +to show you!”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The Hawaiian group of mountain-tops were built long ages ago along a +crack on the ocean floor by a string of volcanos; some are peaks, seven +miles straight up from the surrounding depths. An island-bearing rise +some seventeen hundred miles long, quite narrow, extends from Hawaii in +the southeast, to Ocean Island at the northwest tip.</p> + +<p>We circled Ocean Island, and running a hundred miles from the crest, +near the bottom of the slope, we followed it southeast. Past the peak +of Midway; past Gambia Shoal; Pearl and Hermes Reef; Lisiansky; Brooks +and Bird; and came at last near Kauai.</p> + +<p>We ran often near the surface, but sometimes deep. Everywhere, we saw +the same sharp upward rise to this hog-back, razor ridge. A jagged, +tumbled sub-marine region. Here, in some remote geological era of the +past, nature had obviously been convulsed. Domes and peaks and crags; +steep, sharp ridges; caldrons like black pits; tumbled, broken land, +submerged now, but lying like some wild, naked mountain fastness. There +were slopes of truly precipitous character; cliffs, eroded with great +side holes; black ravines and gullies; bowlders of giant size, pitted +and scarred, strewn where some volcano had flung them. A wild, naked +region; rising in great serrated tiers from the ocean floor up this +hundred-mile slope to the island peaks at its summit.</p> + +<p>We came to the surface off the island of Kauai. More than a hundred +feet of naked slope, had been exposed by the fallen ocean. But the +green island stood serene up there on its peak. The comparatively +shallow two-thousand-fathom depth extended out here in a great circular +plateau to the north. Our charts showed it almost level for several +hundred miles. We dived and followed over its shoreward, necklike +width, and came again into deeper water.</p> + +<p>North of Maui, the tumbled rise went up a regular, ascending slope, +terminating at the peak which was the island. We lay, at twenty-one +degrees, thirty-three minutes, ten seconds N., one hundred and +fifty-six degrees, eight minutes W., in two thousand fathoms. The slope +was another thousand beneath us; but we could see its higher crags +down there, and as we moved slowly south, toward Maui, holding the +two thousand depth, the crags came up to meet us. We went cautiously, +with only one light preceding us. Winding now, down in the ravines and +furrows of the steady upward grade.</p> + +<p>Silent, mysterious passages! Sometimes they seemed about to close over +us; or opened into valleys, with cliff-walls and jagged rims. Darkly, +sinister depths! Our half-dimmed light showed us very little. Like +a silent, cautious monster, surprising this other marine life which +sometimes we saw fleeing before us, we slowly felt our way along.</p> + +<p>We came to a sharp, winding gully, barely a hundred feet wide, with +sides twice as high. Its jagged, uneven floor wound upward. Once, +perhaps, lava had come down here. But now its side-walls were eroded +with many cavelike openings larger than the Dolphin. Still more slowly, +with our little light struggling ahead of us, we followed the gully.</p> + +<p>We were all in the forward instrument room. I was at the controls, with +the others around me. Nereid and Arturo stood together at my elbow with +the port forward bull’s-eye before us. Occasionally he would whisper to +her. With the tenseness of it, we all spoke instinctively in undertones.</p> + +<p>We were in no more than three hundred and thirty fathoms now; the +Dolphin handled steadily. Some two thousand feet over us was the +surface of the sea. The gully was narrowing; rising steeply ahead to +what seemed a crest.</p> + +<p>Nereid whispered something. Arturo said suddenly: “Turn off the light, +Jeff.”</p> + +<p>I cut off the Franklin. Through the bull’s-eye a grim, sullen darkness +leaped to enfold us. But in a moment, what Nereid had seen, we began +to see. A dim, pale-green effulgence far ahead, a glow, a radiance. It +seemed very distant, as though the source of it might be down behind +this gully-crest—a radiance in the upper water which was our sky.</p> + +<p>I heard Dr. Plantet’s sharp intake of breath; and Arturo’s murmur:</p> + +<p>“Keep our light off, Jeff. Can you see to get us up there? Stop at the +crest.”</p> + +<p>We crept on up, holding close to the gully floor. The green radiance +faintly painted the gully walls. At the crest we paused.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>There lay before us a sharp declivity—a drop of perhaps five hundred +feet to a broad oval caldron. It must have been ten miles or more in +width. Beyond it, in a great steep rise the main slope ascended toward +Maui.</p> + +<p>The whole scene was painted dimly green with a diffused effulgence +of light. We stared, all of us for a moment unbreathing. Mysterious, +awesome, uncanny! A crest to the left with a dangling forest of marine +vegetation, gently swaying. Occasional dark blobs of prowling marine +life. All dark and dimly turgid. A scene with a quality almost infernal.</p> + +<p>I could not grasp much of it at first. But it grew upon me—I think we +may have been there an hour, staring. It grew upon me, like formless +shadows slowly taking form in a pregnant darkness.</p> + +<p>The green light suffused everything. But down in the caldron it was +concentrated into many small points. Moving dots; blobs of light—and +near the center a large luminous area which presently seemed almost +bright.</p> + +<p>Moving dots of light. Things moving, carrying with them the lights. +Things that presently seemed cubes and oblongs of metal. I fancied they +may have been, some of them, a hundred or two hundred feet in length; +moving metal containers. With human occupants? My reason told me so.</p> + +<p>They showed no details, only as distant blobs. But my fancy supplied +details; I could imagine them being dragged very slowly up the +slope toward Maui with giant chains. Or perhaps they went as our +old-fashioned tractors used to move, with caterpillar tread. One moved, +and stopped; and I did not see it move again. Then another; another—a +little distance gained for each.</p> + +<p>And the movement was always upward, toward Maui’s green +mountaintop—toward that bright ethereal other world of land and sky!</p> + +<p>It grew upon me, this scene so darkly, silently infernal. The slow +patience of it!</p> + +<p>But there was other, swifter movement. Smaller, individual, metallic +vehicles moved more swiftly about as though commanding. Some darted +like tiny sub-sea vessels, carrying lights. Others moved on the bottom. +There were unlighted shapes that seemed not much larger than a human +figure, moving among the rocks on the caldron floor.</p> + +<p>The broad, circular, nearly-bright area seemed to have a great +transparent dome over it, like an amphitheater suffused with +illumination. I think the water was excluded from under it.</p> + +<p>The encampment of this attacking army! It was distant from us, with +image tiny to our sight. Human figures in there, moving about. Tiny +dots of green light strung above them. Shapes of things that might have +been houses; tiers of them, terraced like sections of a pyramid. An +encampment, crowded with apparatus perhaps. I even fancied I could see +some of it, which the figures were assembling.</p> + +<p>Dr. Plantet was fumbling with our telescope. He turned on its tiny +penetrating ray of light, but Arturo leaped at him. “Don’t, father!”</p> + +<p>I reached and snapped off the light. But it had betrayed us. We did not +know it then; for another interval we gazed down from this height where +it seemed that in darkness the Dolphin lay secure on the crest of the +gully-mouth.</p> + +<p>But our light had betrayed us. I was first aware that though, with the +Parodyne cut off, we had been poised motionless, we were <i>not</i> +motionless! The gully had passed behind us! Slowly, silently, as though +drifting, we were moving out over the caldron! The declivity with its +sudden drop was now behind us; we were in open water, five hundred feet +above the caldron floor.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>I clutched at the Parodyne control, to start it. I think I must have +stammered some startled, horrified words. There was no time to say or +do anything. A light—it may have been a form of light, or something +more tangible perhaps—shot suddenly upward at us. A narrow green beam +with red fire woven through it, a darting thing like a dim narrow beam +of light. It caught us. More tangible than light, for I could feel it +strike us, grip us! As though caught in the magnetic grapples of a +crane, I could feel the solid grip of it; holding the Dolphin, partly +turning us over. And drawing us, sucking us—there are no words to +describe it—pulling us downward!</p> + +<p>There was an instant of horrified confusion. The shock had thrown all +of us against the instrument room wall. I heard Dr. Plantet shout +something. I must have been able to start the Parodyne; it was burring; +the pressure pumps fortunately continued to work; I could hear their +whine. The Dolphin was shuddering; shaken; stricken. And being pulled +down—a great fish held struggling but helpless in the luminous +tentacle of a monster.</p> + +<p>Polly was clutching me. I caught a vision of Arturo, holding Nereid, +his encircling arms trying to protect her. I did not see Dr. Plantet.</p> + +<p>I flung the Parodyne to all its power. I could feel it futilely surge +against this thing holding us.</p> + +<p>I was thrown again. Through the bull’s-eye a slanted scene of movement +was coming up at us as we went down.</p> + +<p>And then there was a flash down there—a flash of blinding white, +brief and silent. I know now that Dr. Plantet had been able to get +to the torpedo tube—had taken swiftly what came to hand and launched +it. A mere light-bomb, of the sort recently developed for sub-sea +photography.</p> + +<p>It may have been harmless or not, to this strange enemy. Perhaps it +blinded whatever eyes were guiding this grappling thing. And for an +instant, the clutching hold upon us loosened. The Dolphin righted, and +as I turned on the ejecting pumps, we started upward, gathering speed. +The Parodyne took hold and added its power. I turned our bow straight +up.</p> + +<p>The grappling light sprang upward, past us. It missed us, came back and +missed again. Its source was very mobile—it seemed rising after us; +it swept off to one side and the beam leaped again, and again did not +strike.</p> + +<p>We shot up the two thousand feet to the surface with the speed almost +of a diving plane. I leveled us off and we raced at a fathom’s depth. +The attacking light had vanished. The depths beneath us were dark. We +sped away, shoreward. Presently we lay awash on a starlit glassy sea, +with Maui’s green-brown heights staring down at us. And the blessed +stars in a canopy above.</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>MYSTERY OF THE SEA.</h3> + + +<p>Dr. Plantet would have landed at once upon Maui, and warned them, but +Arturo dissuaded him.</p> + +<p>“It is not necessary, father. That has been going on down there for +weeks. There is no hurry that way. Besides—” He checked himself +suddenly.</p> + +<p>“What?” his father demanded. “Arturo, if there is anything more—”</p> + +<p>But Arturo remained silent. He had conveyed the impression of having +other vital knowledge; I think now, looking back upon it, that he did +it knowingly, cleverly bending his father to his further purpose.</p> + +<p>“What?” demanded Dr. Plantet again.</p> + +<p>“Father, won’t you trust me? I brought you here and showed you what I +could—”</p> + +<p>I said: “Arturo, look here, you’re not telling us that you want us to +keep this thing secret? That would be dastardly!”</p> + +<p>He turned those solemn dark eyes upon me. He was only eighteen, this +lad; but at that moment he seemed older than I.</p> + +<p>“No, Jeff, of course not. When you—when we get back, father can +discuss it fully with the authorities. If you like, father, you might +try now to call Washington. Tell them, briefly, that with your own +eyes you have confirmed your theories—your worst fears. Tell them +that there may be warfare such as this world has never imagined. But +I hardly think I would specifically name this threat against Maui. It +might cause—if news of it leaked out—a panic in the Hawaiians. And +from its remoteness to Europe it might make those people over there +less earnest in preparing. No good in that, and besides—”</p> + +<p>He paused, and then as though having decided to finish, he added:</p> + +<p>“Besides, I am not—we are not, Nereid and I—altogether sure that the +main threat is against Maui. There may be other localities.”</p> + +<p>“Well, what do you want us to do?” asked Dr. Plantet.</p> + +<p>He told us then, with a simple directness. Run the Dolphin to ten +degrees one minute five seconds N., one hundred and fifty-eight degrees +four minutes eighteen seconds E. I looked it up on the chart. Open sea. +A point in Micronesia, not far from the island where Arturo had found +Nereid—some fifty miles to the northeast of it. We had to go there, +lie on the surface for a night, and wait.</p> + +<p>Arturo, for all his quiet force, turned to sudden pleading. “Oh, +father dear, won’t you trust me? Please believe Nereid and I are +thinking only to do what is best!”</p> + +<p>I am very glad—since fate seemed determined to give Arturo his +way—that Dr. Plantet yielded in the fashion he did. He put his hands +on Arturo’s slim shoulders; he gazed into the lad’s earnest, flushed +face. There was a somber wistfulness there. I think Dr. Plantet must +have seen it. He suddenly enfolded his son in his strong arms.</p> + +<p>“Your world already owes you a great deal for what you have done, +Arturo. I do believe in you.”</p> + +<p>We ran the Dolphin to the position Arturo gave us. A depth was here +evidently far beyond our reaching. But we did not try to investigate +it. We lay awash, at sundown, idly waiting as Arturo directed.</p> + +<p>A tenseness had fallen over all of us on the Dolphin. It showed clearly +stamped on Arturo and Nereid. It communicated to us. Polly and Arturo +were much together. Polly says that never had she felt him so gentle, +so affectionate. Or so quietly obdurate in his secretiveness.</p> + +<p>Dr. Plantet and I discussed the situation. There would be much to do +when we got ashore.</p> + +<p>But we both realized that our discussion was premature. Arturo still +had something to show us. It might change everything—add new factors +to make all our present plans useless.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>We lay awash that night on the surface of the empty sea. There was a +brilliant moon coming up near midnight in the east. It painted the sea +with a running stream of silver.</p> + +<p>Toward midnight it clouded over with a leaden sky, and the wind fell. A +hush was on everything; an oppressive, ominous hush. The surface turned +glassy, grimly brooding.</p> + +<p>Arturo gave his orders. This was a rendezvous—something he said, some +vague suggestion he dropped, made us realize it was that. He had for +a day been puttering with something in his cabin. He brought it up +at midnight—a small but brilliant hand-light which was part of the +Dolphin’s equipment. He showed it to me.</p> + +<p>“Look, Jeff—what I did!” He had pasted a yellow strip of mica with +a queer design on it, across the flash light face. He smiled like a +boy triumphant over a great boy-secret. “Don’t ask me, Jeff—you’ll +see presently. To-night—or it may be we’ll have to wait, so don’t be +disappointed.”</p> + +<p>He sent us below, and sat on the dark deck alone with Nereid. Waiting. +He said he would like to let us stay up there with him—but our +presence there would interfere. There could be two on the deck, no more.</p> + +<p>We three were in the instrument room. Dr. Plantet, unknown to Arturo, +had the under-sea telescope ready; if anything appeared, he would +snap it on. We had loaded the torpedo tube also. It was possible that +Arturo might be tricked. This might be some enemy for whom we were thus +trustfully waiting.</p> + +<p>We were tense, ready as we could be, for what might come. Occasionally +Dr. Plantet would send me on tiptoe in the darkness to the turret-top +to observe in secret Arturo and Nereid upon the deck.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>It was dark out there on the deck. The two figures sat some distance +from me as I crouched in the turret doorway. But I could see their +outlines fairly clearly—Arturo sitting close to her, sometimes +whispering.</p> + +<p>She stood up. She evidently saw something. My heart began pounding. +Whatever it was, it was hidden from my position. Arturo was on his feet +beside her. She gestured—I could see her slim white arm gesturing. I +saw him raise the flash light, and send its narrow, penetrating yellow +beam steadily out over the water. That device he had cut in the yellow +face of it—something, some one out there must be seeing that—and +recognizing it, as Nereid? I thought so.</p> + +<p>There was a space, while Arturo held the light steadily level. Then +Nereid said something to him. He snapped off the light. They stood +waiting. A minute? Ten minutes? I do not know. I heard nothing; saw +nothing save those two motionless, tense figures standing there by +the Dolphin’s low rail. Boy and girl, so slim, so frail, so youthful, +both of them. They stood, so close together that her long wild tresses +seemed almost enfolding him.</p> + +<p>I recall that I was about to go below and tell Dr. Plantet and Polly +of this signal I had seen. A movement of Nereid stiffened me. She drew +apart from Arturo. The Dolphin’s rail was lower than her waist. She +seemed poised; her arms went up; she went in a graceful arc, over and +head downward into the sea.</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""> + <div class="caption"> + <p><i>Nereid went in a graceful arc into the sea.</i></p> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<p>I was stiffened for just an instant. Why, what was this? Arturo moved. +He put his foot upon the rail. For a breath, he seemed to hesitate. Was +he executing his compact with Nereid? I think so. But perhaps, there +at the last as he hesitated, he was fighting with the lure. His foot +was on the rail. He plunged. There was a little splash as he struck the +water!</p> + +<p>I waited. One has not long to wait for a swimmer to come up. I called: +“Arturo! Arturo!” I crossed the narrow deck, rushed to the bow—to the +stern. I called frantically: “Arturo!”</p> + +<p>My running footsteps, my frantic voice brought Dr. Plantet and Polly. +She called wildly: “Arturo! Arturo dear—”</p> + +<p>We hurried below, and too late now, we plunged the Dolphin.</p> + +<p>But there was nothing. Down to our limit of two thousand fathoms there +was nothing but the dark, turgid mystery of the sea.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>I come now to that curiously inactive year during which, had we not +seen what with our own eyes we saw, all the strange events I have so +far described might have been the figment of our imagination. The +public knew nothing of the details, of course. And even the governments +and scientists before whom we laid our report were dubious of our +veracity.</p> + +<p>But there were solid facts. Ships had been lost. The oceans did recede +some twenty fathoms. Solid facts, not to be denied. And a mermaid had +been seen. But that, as a matter of science, was a jest; and there was +almost nothing left save what we said we saw. And with the going of +Arturo, the solid facts seemed to come to an end.</p> + +<p>The year passed, and the winter and spring of 1991 slid by. The oceans +were down twenty fathoms, but no more. The disturbance of nature seemed +at an end. There was earthquake and volcanic activity, but nothing +unduly severe—nothing more than many other years of the past had shown.</p> + +<p>Twenty fathoms of water were gone, it seemed permanently, from the +oceans. The confusion in the world’s affairs which it created was +quickly clearing; we humans adjust ourselves so readily to new +conditions! Ships soon were again sailing the surface, and none were +attacked.</p> + +<p>There was no attack upon Maui, or elsewhere. In November, 1990, we took +the Dolphin back to Maui. The delay was because Dr. Plantet had been +stricken ill. I would not have thought that an emotion, even for a son, +could have stricken him. But it did. He denied it was that; but it was.</p> + +<p>They had sent armed surface vessels to the Maui area, while Dr. Plantet +lay ill. They bombed the depths; they searched with lights; they bombed +with hovering planes. There was no response from below.</p> + +<p>Then at last, with other scientists, we took the Dolphin cautiously +down there. We were a long time finding that exact caldron depression +to which Arturo and Nereid had led us. But we found it—and as though +to deny us all credibility, nothing was there. This enemy had +withdrawn. I recalled that Arturo had said several things which hinted +something of the kind.</p> + +<p>We fruitlessly searched with a long, deep voyage of the Dolphin. And we +thought of Nereid’s island—Arturo’s plane, and Nereid’s globe which +had been left there. We found the plane untouched, lying there, mute, +pathetic witness to the fact that there ever had been an Arturo. But +Nereid’s globe was gone.</p> + +<p>We found the little cave with its pool where they swam together, and +laughed together, and planned this thing which had taken him from us. A +few little trinkets of his were lying there; his violin was there—and +a strangely fashioned shell comb which undoubtedly was hers. That was +all.</p> + +<p>Dr. Plantet seldom mentioned Arturo. But often, with Polly, I pondered +the past; and there was much that my idle fancy could conjure. I saw +Arturo as a gentle hero, sacrificing himself for his world. I read into +the memories of those days the idea that Arturo went away with Nereid +because he knew he might be able to check these dire, threatening +things. Often I would say to Polly, “It’s a fact that the oceans have +stopped falling—and the menace has withdrawn—”</p> + +<p>The public so quickly forgets! No one seemed greatly worried now over +the mysterious things that had occurred in 1990. No one ever seemed to +think that they might occur again. Yet to me, the menace always hung +over us.</p> + +<p>Arturo had said, “This may only be an experimental attack—the main +warfare may be fought on land.” Those wild desert lands which now we +were calling the sea. They were so soon to be added to our habitable +world, with our enemy infernal lurking in them!</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>My ship was put back on its regular run in January, 1991. It was, to +me, an eerie thing to be traversing again these waters of the Pacific, +flowing through them on our prosaic commercial rounds as if nothing +strange had ever happened down here. For the first few voyages my +nerves were taut; I found myself with sharpened fancy and straining +vision watching the passing green depths, as though every moment I +might see a globe with Nereid’s face. Or Arturo, in some strange guise, +waiting somewhere down here to meet our passing. I sometimes feared +that a beam of light which was not light, but something else might leap +up from beneath and seize us, as the Dolphin that time had been seized.</p> + +<p>The feeling after a few voyages wore off. Nothing happened; I began to +tell myself that nothing ever would happen.</p> + +<p>I was doing well financially. Our line was prospering. In March, 1991, +the directors voluntarily raised my pay. I began to think then of Polly +as my wife. I had never spoke definitely of love to her, yet there was +between us an understanding—unvoiced, but I am sure that she felt as I +did.</p> + +<p>Much of my shore leave was spent with Polly and her father. He was +planning a long voyage of the Dolphin, to chart the ocean deeps in the +interest of science. I wondered if it could be that there was still in +his mind some thought of finding a trace of Arturo. I think so; but he +disguised it.</p> + +<p>He planned to have me navigate the Dolphin. It necessitated my giving +up my post; and I hesitated. I wanted to marry Polly; and to be working +for her father, dependent upon him for my income, was not wholly to my +liking.</p> + +<p>The dreams and nightmares which were to have so strange an influence +upon my future, began about this time and for five months they troubled +me. I had always been, or at least I thought so, a person above the +influence of idle dreams. There was nothing morbid about me. Dreams +might sway a fanciful lad like Arturo, but not me.</p> + +<p>But I was mistaken. These dreams—I had them, fragments of them nearly +every time I slept—gradually laid their mark upon me. I did not speak +of love to Polly; I avoided decision with Dr. Plantet over the voyage +of the Dolphin. I was scarcely aware of it at first, but I became +moody, silent, almost morose.</p> + +<p>Polly noticed it. Once, with a very gentle tenderness which I was in no +mood to appreciate, she tried to question me. I recall that I checked +her sharply.</p> + +<p>The dreams began unobtrusively. I remember the first one: I awoke with +the feeling that I had been somewhere beneath the sea. The memory of a +turgid vision of a watery waste, with things floating. The feeling of +it oppressed me all day.</p> + +<p>There was another. Young Tad Megan, a friend of Arturo’s and mine who +had been lost on a surface freighter in one of the disasters of April, +1990, stood in the dream before me. His face was very white; his slowly +waving arms seemed floating in water; there was green-black water all +around him.</p> + +<p>Fragments like these. Recurring dreams, always of water—until, as my +morbidness grew, I began to hate my calling that took me under the +sea—almost grew to fear it.</p> + +<p>There were dreams of music. Sometimes I thought that I had heard Arturo +playing. Often, as I awoke, I fancied I had seen his face, smiling at +me with a gentle wistfulness. Again, I saw myself, bloated, drifting in +a turgid liquid darkness.</p> + +<p>It is fearful to be obsessed throughout all one’s waking hours, with +the lingering memory of nightmares. I began to fear them—fearing the +time when I would have to go to sleep and dream them again. I became +nervous; my digestion suffered.</p> + +<p>In June, when a grave blunder of mine nearly brought disaster upon us, +my superior told me bluntly that my work was unsatisfactory, getting +more so all the time. He did not know why, and I did not tell him. But +I fought with the dreams—fought to thrust them as nonsense out of my +waking thoughts.</p> + +<p>I could not—did not dare—propose marriage to Polly. A sense of +personal disaster was upon me. I mistrusted everything. My health—I +feared I would lose it, and lose my post. And there was another reason +why now I began to avoid Polly. A recurring fragment of dream: A dim +cathedral vault of green water with chimes ringing through it. A girl, +like Nereid, with tawny floating hair and eyes with the sea in them, +calling me, luring me—and always I would try to answer, and would wake +up, calling my answer to her.</p> + +<p>An obsession. I began to feel, even when awake and about my daily +duties, the presence of the girl—her eyes upon me, her white arm and +hand, flushed with the tint of coral, reaching out to touch me. And +against all the reason of my sober waking senses, I knew that in my +heart I longed for her. A disloyalty to Polly? I felt it so, and it +made me increasingly morbid.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Of such threads was woven the fabric of those last days of Arturo. I +know it now. The lure was on me then, as it had been then upon him. But +though I did not realize it, there was a strange but solid basis of +science to all this. More than mere dreams; more than mere disturbed +fancy.</p> + +<p>I said nothing to Polly, or to Dr. Plantet, or any one. Like Arturo, I +carried it alone. Tad Megan, drowned over a year now, was more and more +in my thoughts—as though something were forcing him there. Even more +than the alluring girl, the vision of him often came to me as I slept.</p> + +<p>I had liked him tremendously. A short stocky fellow with a shock of +upstanding red hair. A laughing freckled face usually red with sunburn. +A jolly companion, who saw a joke in everything—all of life with its +grim struggle to be taken as a joke. And now he was dead, lost in +one of those disasters last year which it seemed now would never be +explained.</p> + +<p>There was a dream in which I saw Tad very clearly. He was laughing; he +seemed alive and healthy and laughing, and beckoning me to come and +join him. Then water came rushing at us; his face went solemn; it went +white and solemn and faded away as I struggled to get to him.</p> + +<p>Thus I was, in August ’91, nothing of the Jeff Grant I had been the +year before. A moody fellow now, churlish and sullen, almost estranged +from Polly and her father. I liked best to be alone. And so the +momentous night of August 15 found me, with my shore leave beginning, +seeking solitary diversion in New York City. I had been to a theater. I +was returning to my hotel along one of the upper pedestrian levels.</p> + +<p>Broadway was thronged. It was just about midnight. Down on the +street level the vehicles went by in a stream; above them, to the +sides, the moving sidewalks swung past with all their seats packed. +The green-white trellised vacuums cast their glare upon the busy +scene—half a million people hurrying off to their homes, or to eating +and dancing places for further midnight diversion.</p> + +<p>Gay scenes of shifting, scurrying movement and tumultuous sound. At the +crossings the directors roared their orders with electrical voices; +loud speakers shouted their advertisements from every point of vantage; +huge news-mirrors showed images of the current world-happenings, +flashing on and off with advertisements interspersed.</p> + +<p>A gay scene; but I was in no mood to join with it. That sense of inward +depression, chronic with me now, sat heavily upon my spirit. I walked +the crowded upper level alone, following its outer balcony rail. It +was a rainy, blustery night. The street-roof overhead was wet with the +falling sheets of rain; I could see the water through the glassite, +running off in rivulets. At a crossing, where in the side streets there +was no roof, the rain beat down in a torrent upon glistening pavements.</p> + +<p>The valley of the Hudson was off there, only a few blocks +away—frowning Palisades; an empty cañon where last year the stately +river had been. The muddy slope down to its center was caking solid now +under the sun of these hot summer days. With the tide-water gone, there +was only a narrow, swift-flowing fresh-water stream down there at the +bottom. The side-slopes were already being built upon.</p> + +<p>I stood there for a moment gazing moodily. And suddenly it seemed that +Tad Megan was there with me; something of him—standing at my elbow. +Plucking at me? I turned swiftly. A man and woman had brushed against +me as they passed.</p> + +<p>It was eerie, nerve-racking. I tried to shake it off—this something, +following me always. Ahead, another half block up Broadway, there was +a sudden, tumultuous movement in the crowd. Something unusual. I could +see the people rushing along one of the middle levels; voices rose in +shouts. The excitement communicated everywhere.</p> + +<p>In one of the moving pavement halts a thousand people suddenly leaped +off to join the running throng. The stream of vehicles down at the +bottom of the street was disorganized; the director down there was +frantically roaring, but his orders were lost—the vehicles, fully half +of them, were turning into the inclines to come up.</p> + +<p>I gripped a hurrying man. “What is it?”</p> + +<p>“Announcement. Government—official. To the public, at twelve ten.”</p> + +<p>“It’s twelve five now. Where is it to be?”</p> + +<p>“Park Circle 80. Government mirror there. Let go of me, you grounder! +What’s the matter with you?”</p> + +<p>I had been clinging to him; unreasoningly trembling. What, indeed, was +the matter with me? I did not know. I tried to steady myself. I smiled. +“I’ll go with—”</p> + +<p>But the man jerked from me and hurried away. Park Circle 80 was only +a few blocks north. The crowd was all converging there. I followed, +mingling with it. There must have been ten thousand people thronging +that upper circle. They jammed all its tiers; around its outer diameter +the vehicles stood parked in rows. I was a few minutes late. The +overhead lights had dimmed. A silence had fallen.</p> + +<p>The fifty-foot pyramid mirror, with its hexagon sides to face every +portion of the circle, was luminous. Moving black letters were on it, +for all to read.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>Government official, midnight, August 15. Atlantic Coast, average +tide at low, off five-sixths fathom—</p> +</div> + +<p>I stood gaping, reading. Tide bulletins! A series of statements of the +low tides of the day at different points along the North American sea +coasts.</p> + +<p>The crowd grew restless; a director’s broadcasted voice roared: +“Silence! It means that the oceans are going down—faster than last +year.”</p> + +<p>The crowd swayed, shouted, and then grew still; awed, frightened into +silence. All over the city, at all the circles, I knew that scenes like +this were transpiring.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>The menace has come again! Stand by for government orders to the +public—</p> +</div> + +<p>The menace had come again!</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>OUT OF THE SEA.</h3> + + +<p>There must have been a dozen near panics in New York that night, and +in all the other great cities. Throughout all the rural districts, on +every distant farm, the agriculturists were being aroused from sleep +by the call of the official newscasters. It may have been a rational +policy—I am not one to judge.</p> + +<p>I stood there in the throng at Park Circle 80, watching, listening, +with pounding heart. It had, this news, so much greater meaning to me! +I knew what the menace could be; of all these people, I had actually +seen the enemy.</p> + +<p>Diagonally across from me, a hundred feet over the circle, close under +the roof, was a strip of the huge luminous call board. I chanced to be +gazing at the G segment—a column of the Gr names. They flashed past in +moving letters: Gran, George; Grad, Francis M.; Grammer, Ruth—people, +who might be in the crowd, for whom there was a message. And then, +Grant, Geoffry. My name! Some one calling me.</p> + +<p>I went to the nearest box. “Geoffry Grant—am I called?”</p> + +<p>The girl clicked me into a distant connection; on the tiny mirror I saw +the image of Dr. Plantet’s solemn face, with Polly behind him.</p> + +<p>“Jeff?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve tried everywhere for you, for an hour. They said at your office +you might have gone to New York.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Where are you?”</p> + +<p>“New York. Park Circle 80.”</p> + +<p>“It’s come again, Jeff. Tide-water fell to-day—they figure now it’s +falling more than twice as fast as it ever did before. Good luck, +Jeff—”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know, I’ve just been hearing the official report.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve been swamped with calls, but I wanted to get hold of you. Oh, +they’re not so incredulous of us now! I’ve had twenty of them calling +me, to see what I thought ought to be done.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.” An inexplicable constraint was on me. I knew I should join with +vigor whatever Dr. Plantet might plan. But I felt an outcast; something +was pulling at me, away from him; making me silent, cautious of +committing myself to anything.</p> + +<p>His tense voice went on; his keen eyes showed in the mirror; I knew he +was searching my face; behind him I could see Polly, reaching over his +shoulder to catch sight of me.</p> + +<p>“Jeff, they want me to-morrow or the next day in Washington. Great +London will want us also. I suppose the Dolphin will be used. I don’t +know why they are convinced just by to-day’s reports, but they are. +This is the real menace, Jeff. They all say so, and I feel it myself.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I repeated lamely.</p> + +<p>“The oceans are falling—this time they will keep on, faster; it has +come, at last. Jeff, I want you up here—”</p> + +<p>“Yes.” It sounded so horribly stupid, my dumb repetition.</p> + +<p>“—want you to catch the 2 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span> mail. Polly and I will meet +you at Portland—”</p> + +<p>“Yes—no! No, Dr. Plantet!” I felt as though I had suddenly found my +wits. I could not go to Maine—I was wanted, needed, elsewhere.</p> + +<p>“No—I cannot.”</p> + +<p>“Why not? Why, Jeff—” His voice was hurt, puzzled.</p> + +<p>How could I explain to him? There seemed nothing to explain. I swept my +hand over my cold, wet forehead. I felt like a traitor.</p> + +<p>“No, I—I can’t come.”</p> + +<p>It seemed as though, pressing around me in the breathless little +cubby, were something of Arturo, and Nereid, and the face of young Tad +Megan—here—like pressing ghosts, importuning me.</p> + +<p>“No, Dr. Plantet—”</p> + +<p>“Jeff, see here!” His voice was sharp. “What is this nonsense? What’s +the matter with you? Speak out, lad.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>I clicked off the mirror connection so he could not see me. And then, +with a sudden impulse that I could not check, I hung up the instrument +and staggered out of the cubby. The crowd thronging the circle was in +tumultuous movement now, every one struggling to get away. A surge of +people and vehicles. I shoved into them, aimless, trembling. I had been +a cad with Dr. Plantet. What was the matter with me? I did not know.</p> + +<p>I stood for a moment against a direction post, trying to collect my +wits. The crowd surged around me. The platforms for the near-by Yonkers +District were loading up; the Jersey local flyer lay on its stage off +on a side street, where the roof ended; I could see the lights through +the rain, people crowding onto it.</p> + +<p>Thoughts pressed at my aching head. Thoughts that I could not +interpret. Soundless words thumping at my brain—I could almost hear +them, but not quite.</p> + +<p>Then a realization steadied me. I was not going mad. These pressing +ghosts of thoughts—why, I had once heard a lecturer on telepathy +describe the thing in some such fashion as this. It steadied me. Was +this telepathy? Was something, some one’s thoughts trying to get +through to me? I clung to the direction post, trying to fathom my +feelings. Arturo? Nereid? Or was it a ghost of Tad Megan, here with me? +What was he saying—</p> + +<p>A pedestrian director came up to me.</p> + +<p>“You all right?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes, of course.”</p> + +<p>He regarded me sharply; his hand drew me from the post. “Alcoholic?”</p> + +<p>“No. Of course not!” I laughed.</p> + +<p>“What’s your name?”</p> + +<p>“Geoffry Grant.” I showed him my signature, pricked officially in the +flesh of my arm.</p> + +<p>He glanced up at the call board. “There you are—guess they want you at +home. Get along now.”</p> + +<p>I hurried away, glad to escape him. My name was again on the call +board; Dr. Plantet, trying to get me to come back and talk.</p> + +<p>I found myself in the rain, on a lower street with only one level. The +rain seemed to clear my confusion. And suddenly I heard, soundlessly +in my head, the thought:</p> + +<p>“<i>Arturo and Tad Megan need you. Come.</i>”</p> + +<p>I stood against a dark shop window, with the rain drenching me. I +thought intensely: “<i>Where? Come where?</i>” I murmured it, half +aloud. “<i>Come where?</i>”</p> + +<p>“<i>Arturo needs you. Nereid’s island—you remember? Come +alone—come—come—</i>”</p> + +<p>I think, in that instant, all my morbidity dropped away. The need for +action spurred me. This at least seemed something tangible. Something +to do. Normality came to me, I was the old Jeff Grant, not a sniveling, +trembling coward, afraid of his own thoughts. And I believe I +understood, in part, what had been the matter with me all these months.</p> + +<p>I turned back to the glare of Broadway, and called Dr. Plantet.</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry I shut off on you, Dr. Plantet. Don’t ask me—I cannot come.”</p> + +<p>“But why?”</p> + +<p>“I can’t tell you now, I’ll try to let you know soon.”</p> + +<p>“But—”</p> + +<p>Something said to me: “Keep your own counsel,” but I added: “I’ll trust +you, Dr. Plantet. It’s about Arturo.”</p> + +<p>I told him briefly I might be able to communicate with Arturo. Oh, I +could not blame him for his prompt, vigorous questions! And his command:</p> + +<p>“Jeff, you come up here to me, at once—I want to know what you mean by +that!”</p> + +<p>I could see Polly restraining him.</p> + +<p>“No,” I said. “I cannot.”</p> + +<p>I shut him off finally. Then I called my office; told them brusquely +that if I did not report within a week they could consider my post +vacant; to fill it as they wished, and to notify Dr. Plantet what they +had done.</p> + +<p>And then I boarded a vacuum cylinder in the tube for mid-Long Island, +to the field where aëros could be engaged.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“I want a single-seater Wasp.”</p> + +<p>The checker looked me over. “For how long?”</p> + +<p>I had not thought of that. “Why—for about a week, I guess.”</p> + +<p>“Guess? Don’t you know? Where’s your license?”</p> + +<p>“You think I’m a grounder? Here you are.”</p> + +<p>I showed him my flying license; and my name on my arm, and I wrote my +signature to verify it.</p> + +<p>“Wait,” he said. “I’ll confirm that.”</p> + +<p>He put my signature into the telautograph on his desk; it clicked off +into the air. My heart leaped. Had Dr. Plantet sent out a call to +apprehend me? Would he dare?</p> + +<p>“What’s that for?” I demanded.</p> + +<p>“General orders. We’re taking no chances to-night. You may be who you +say you are—I’m no expert at signatures.”</p> + +<p>The Washington Archives verified me, and the release came back in a +moment. I breathed easier.</p> + +<p>“Right,” said the checker. “They passed you. Where are you going?”</p> + +<p>“None of your business,” I retorted. “Is it?”</p> + +<p>He grinned. “Well, I guess it isn’t. Not if you deposit the total +value.”</p> + +<p>I gave him my draft to cover the cost of the plane. He sent it off to +be certified and in a moment had it back. Within half an hour I was in +the air, flying west by south. I could do a fair three hundred in this +machine.</p> + +<p>Noon of the next day found me over the Pacific. I stopped at Guadalupe +Island off the coast of Lower California, to refuel and take on my +final provisions. And upon sudden impulse I called Polly. The mirror +presently showed me her intent little face. I was relieved to see that +the room behind her was empty.</p> + +<p>“This is Jeff.”</p> + +<p>Her face brightened. Dear little Polly! I felt like my old self now—no +longer estranged.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Jeff.” She did not question; she sat there, regarding me gravely, +waiting.</p> + +<p>“Where is your father?”</p> + +<p>“Gone to Washington, Jeff. Early this morning.”</p> + +<p>I had had no news, save the fragments the mechanics were gossiping +over, here at the Guadalupe station.</p> + +<p>“The tides are lower, Polly?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Two fathoms more—just over-night. It’s come, Jeff.”</p> + +<p>I swore her then to secrecy. “I’m at Guadalupe Island, Polly. I’m going +well, you can guess where. I can’t talk plainly—too easy for any +eavesdropper. Polly, listen, it’s about Arturo, I’ve had—I think I’ve +had a message from him—”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” Her face went very grave; but her eyes were shining, “Father said +last night—”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I hinted at it to him. Polly, I’m going—I may not come back.”</p> + +<p>“Oh—”</p> + +<p>“I mean—not for awhile. This isn’t the sort of thing you can let +the government meddle in—they’d send an expedition after me to +investigate, you know they would.” I added suddenly: “Polly, I’m sorry +about the last few months—I’ve acted badly—I’ve been—it’s hard to +explain.”</p> + +<p>But she understood. “Like Arturo, Jeff? I knew it.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I imagine like that. Only, it’s Arturo calling me, Polly. +Not—not any one like Nereid. Oh, Polly dear, you understand, don’t +you? It was—or I thought it was—something like that, but I’m all +right now. Polly, see here—I called you for this. Later, some time +I may, if I can, send you a message from—from down there. You see? +If I do—don’t be frightened. If you get to dreaming—nightmares, +anything like that, don’t be frightened. Whatever you think the message +says—don’t you attempt to come alone!”</p> + +<p>She was very intent. “No, Jeff. What should I do?”</p> + +<p>“Tell your father. If you are sure we are calling you—come with him, +you see? We may be able to reach you, and not him. Oh, I may be talking +nonsense! I don’t know. But if you do get a call from me, or any one, +don’t come alone—don’t try it, Polly.”</p> + +<p>“No. And you know we’ll be waiting, Jeff.”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Do the best you can. There may be bad times ahead of us all. Good +luck.”</p> + +<p>I was reluctant to cut off. But the operator checked at me for +overtime. To be conspicuous was the last thing I wanted.</p> + +<p>“Good-by, Polly.”</p> + +<p>“Good-by, Jeff. The best of luck—and love to Arturo. Oh, if he is only +safe! I’ll be praying for you.” Her fingers touched her lips for the +gesture of a kiss. Dear little Polly!</p> + +<p>I cut off. In ten minutes more I was away, with six thousand miles of +ocean ahead of me to Nereid’s island.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>It was mid-morning when I raised the tiny island. It seemed deserted, +upstanding with its naked spreading base in the fallen ocean. I landed +in the empty bowl which once was the lagoon. All through the hot +glaring day I waited. Night came, and the half moon was high overhead. +I left my Wasp and sat on a little promontory under the palms, above +the naked beach.</p> + +<p>The low ocean was rippled with moonlight. A breeze stirred the palms. +Upon such a night as this, just about a year before, Arturo had sat +here, waiting. I found my heart beating fast. Who would come? Some +girl, like Nereid?</p> + +<p>And doubts assailed me. Was this all, this message I thought I had +received, a trick of my fancy? Why should I think it a rational +telepathy? Was I a fool, to be sitting here waiting? For what?</p> + +<p>Yet there was upon me a strong feeling which seemed growing into a +definite knowledge: Arturo was nearing me. As though physically he were +here, standing out of sight behind me—the accents of his familiar +voice ringing in my head as though he had just spoken.</p> + +<p>My watch showed 1 <span class="smcap">a.m.</span> I had slept a good part of the previous +night, and dozed all day. I was keenly alert, sitting tense, searching +the moonlit ocean. I saw at last, a mile or so away, something black +bobbing at the surface. And then a tiny beam of light, waving like +a signal. I got to my feet. I had pasted a device across my flash, +crudely cut from memory of the one Arturo had used. I stood and held it +level, shining it out over the water.</p> + +<p>The light out there presently was gone; the bobbing thing vanished. But +after a time it showed again. Close inshore. A shadow of the rocks was +there; I could not see it plainly. It landed. And then I saw figures +clambering up the rocks in the moonlight. Three of them—and another +stayed back by the round thing from which they had come. Three figures, +coming up toward me. Two men, and a girl, white-limbed, with tossing +hair.</p> + +<p>I stood in a patch of moonlight. There was just an instant when the +thought swept me that I was a fool—this was an enemy come to trap me. +But I called, quaveringly, “Arturo! Arturo, is that you?”</p> + +<p>There was a brief silence. The climbing figures stopped, gazed up and +saw me. And a voice called up—a familiar voice. It was Tad Megan—not +dead, nothing weird or eerie. A great relief swept me.</p> + +<p>Tad’s voice: “There he is—I see him!”</p> + +<p>Tad Megan, and Arturo and Nereid. I could recognize them now. The +relief of it! If I had not realized what a strain I had been under. But +there was nothing uncanny about this. I shouted:</p> + +<p>“Here I am!”</p> + +<p>They came running up. Nereid, familiar as I remembered her; Arturo, +strangely garbed, grown strangely older. Tad wrung my hand.</p> + +<p>“No—of course I’m not dead! You, Jeff—by the little gods of the +airways, it’s good to see you again.”</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>INTO THE ABYSS.</h3> + + +<p>It was a round, gleaming metallic globe some thirty feet in diameter. +We entered its tiny doorway; a thick, complicated affair, it reminded +me of the door to some great round safe in a bank vault. Tad swung +it closed. The click and queer whir of it, in spite of these friends +around me, struck at me with awe. We were going down into the unknown.</p> + +<p>They were very businesslike, Arturo and Tad. And Nereid, with her +timorous, flashing smile at me, stood aside and watched them. Ah, never +before had I so fully realized Nereid’s beauty! It so queerly stirred +me; against all reason of friendship I could not treat her casually. +Tad noticed it. He grinned at me, and whispered:</p> + +<p>“You get used to it. She’s human—she’s not a ghost, you know.”</p> + +<p>They had had little to say to me; the business of getting us embarked +and started occupied them.</p> + +<p>“We thought you’d never come, Jeff. Nereid has been calling you for +months. We need you. You, of every one, we’ve wanted. We only got your +answer a short time ago. Nereid had almost given up trying to reach +you.”</p> + +<p>“So it was Nereid—” I told them of the dreams. Nereid said shyly, “I +would not care—I mean, it was not what I desired, to frighten you.”</p> + +<p>She spoke slowly, carefully as one who deals with an unfamiliar +language. And very softly, with an accent, not to be described and a +tone curiously limpid.</p> + +<p>Arturo smiled. “We could not help that; we had to get the call through. +You’re not very receptive, Jeff.”</p> + +<p>“But Arturo was,” said Tad.</p> + +<p>They told me then that it was Tad, down there with Nereid, who had made +her call to Arturo. There was so much that I would ask, but Arturo cut +us short.</p> + +<p>“Not now. Later, when we arrive. We’ve been gone too long now, Tad—you +know it.”</p> + +<p>A different Arturo. He was dressed in short black trunks and a black +sleeveless jacket that clung to him like a swimming suit. It shone, +with light on it, like a thin woven metal. His black hair was closely +clipped. His face was paler now than ever, but it seemed only the +pallor of darkness. A leaner, rather longer face than I remembered. +And stranger, and older. His jaw was more firmly set; his lips thinner +and firmer. And his eyes were different. A flashing, dominant glance. +More than that, they seemed larger, as though from living in the dark. +And I noticed that here within the globe, the light was very dim, and +carefully shaded.</p> + +<p>There were similar changes in Tad. His short, stocky figure showed +muscular in the brief black suit. His red hair was close-clipped; his +freckles gone, with pallor supplanting them. He, too, seemed older; +his face in repose, very solemn. But his manner showed he was the same +old Tad—irrepressible; like Mercutio, he would make a joke of his own +death, I am sure.</p> + +<p>We sat on a horizontal platform which hung midway of the globe, +spanning its diameter. A similar disk, of necessity smaller, was ten +feet over our head like a ceiling. It made a sort of room, with a small +metallic post upright in its center—a vertical axis to the globe. A +queer, circular room. Seats stood about it; there seemed a buffet, +wherein food was stored. And to one side, a table and shelves of +instruments. A metal ladder led upward, through the ceiling, to the +globe’s upper segment; and a trap door in the floor gave access to a +ladder downward.</p> + +<p>The whole metallic interior was dim with its shaded lights. I saw +that the room was hung upon this central axis. There were windows at +intervals in the curving wall of the globe. Through them, with lights +whose source I could not determine, a vista of the sea showed plainly. +We were pivoted, as though sitting upon the plane of a huge top. But it +was not our disk that began spinning. The globe’s mechanisms went into +operation with a slow throbbing; the disks of the room held steady, +and apparently almost level. But already the central axis was turning; +the globe was turning; the windows began passing in steady procession +around us.</p> + +<p>I asked no questions. Tad and Arturo were busy. I sat, with pounding +heart, watching, listening, wondering. Nereid sat near me; I could feel +the gaze of her solemn eyes. We had slid from the rocks; we were under +the water. Sinking—rolling forward, or downward, I could not tell +which.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Arturo stood for a moment before me. “We’ll be throwing on the pressure +presently. Hold steady, Jeff; it will be strange at first.”</p> + +<p>“Arturo, see here—”</p> + +<p>He smiled. “It’s difficult, making sure of our direction. Nereid, you +know the way—will you watch with us?”</p> + +<p>She nodded, rose, and stood across the disk by the instrument table. +Tad was there, and the figure of another man. I had not yet seen him +closely. A slim fellow dressed in the brief black suit. His arms and +legs gleamed pink-white; he sat now by the instruments, his hands +roving them, his gaze intent on a bank of dials illumined with a vague +purple sheen.</p> + +<p>Arturo called, “Entt! Oh, Entt, can you come here a moment?”</p> + +<p>He rose and Tad quickly took his place. He stood before me a +delicate-looking, almost girlish fellow. He might have weighed a +hundred pounds. A trifle taller than Nereid, slim and straight and +smooth pink-white of skin. He stood smiling—a hand shading his wide +blue eyes from the light. A handsome fellow; twenty years old perhaps.</p> + +<p>“Entt, this is Jeff, our friend.”</p> + +<p>He held out his hand. “I am glad.” He spoke like Nereid; he had indeed +her strange look.</p> + +<p>I shook his hand, and said impulsively, “Are you Nereid’s brother?”</p> + +<p>“No—just—her friend.”</p> + +<p>His face was smooth as though no razor had ever touched it. His brown +hair was clipped close. I liked him at once, this Entt. Gentle, +deprecating, but there was a strength to him. The muscles of his arms +and shoulders rippled under the satin of his skin.</p> + +<p>He turned away. “I must go back, Arturo.”</p> + +<p>Arturo said, “He’s been a real friend—there is so much we have to tell +you, Jeff. But not now. When we get there.”</p> + +<p>Tad was calling, “Arturo, come here!”</p> + +<p>“When this pressure comes on, Jeff, hold firm. Just sit tight.”</p> + +<p>Arturo left me.</p> + +<p>Into the abyss. Strange, fearsome descent! A confusion of impressions. +We had left the island. How far we went I could not say. An hour +perhaps. The globe turned slowly; the illumined circles of windows with +the green water outside them, rotated slowly around me.</p> + +<p>And then the descent began. The globe had been throbbing, not only with +vibration; with sound. The sound intensified. The globe gradually began +whirling faster. I heard Tad say:</p> + +<p>“We’re located right, aren’t we, Entt? By the little auk at the pole, I +don’t want to go down at the wrong place!”</p> + +<p>“There’s the marker we flung out,” said Arturo, and Entt nodded. “See +it—off there?”</p> + +<p>I could see very little through the whirling windows. They flashed +faster. Presently they were all merged in a band of light—a +horizontal, circular band like a slot of continuous window. The light +had intensified; it showed the water, rushing upward now.</p> + +<p>And then the pressure went on. I saw Entt swing the lever; I heard the +beat of some new mechanism. It was presently as though within the globe +this air I was breathing went under increasing pressure. Yet I knew now +it was not exactly that. A changing of the air. A mechanism taking out, +absorbing the air of my world, and substituting something else, a new, +a different air. The atmosphere of this other realm to which we were +going. A greater pressure, undoubtedly, but the change was far more +than that. I cannot describe it scientifically. There was no one ever +to tell me the technical difference. But I recall now how I felt, there +in that globe as we descended.</p> + +<p>An oppression. It seemed as though a band were compressing my chest. I +could not breathe properly; I began panting. My head soon was roaring, +my forehead cold with dank moisture.</p> + +<p>There was a queer odor—the odor of wet, clammy earth, a smell like a +wet cave far underground. I struggled for breath; a nausea was upon me. +Once I thought my senses were fading and called, “Arturo!”</p> + +<p>He came running. I was gripping the latticed metal seat. He touched me; +appraised me with his gaze. “You’re all right, Jeff. Fearful at first, +isn’t it? You’ll be all right after awhile.”</p> + +<p>I smiled weakly. “Yes, I—hope so.”</p> + +<p>Above the roaring in my ears it seemed that my voice, and Arturo’s, had +a different sound. A heavy, muffled sound.</p> + +<p>“You’re all right, Jeff, we’ve got it on full now. You’ll feel better +presently.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>He left me. I sat gasping, but after a time the nausea passed; my head +cleared a trifle; the roaring in my ears began to abate. I found I +could still breathe, but it was an effort. The muscles of my diaphragm +were tired now with the strain of it. There was a fluid quality to this +air, I took it into my lungs and flung it out with a panting, gasping +exhalation. It burned me inside, and my skin was burning; tingling, +prickling, as though with a thousand tiny needles.</p> + +<p>But I grew used to it—or perhaps all the sensations were passing. +Another long interval. I got to my feet, with a strange sense of +lightness. I moved my arm with a gesture; I could feel the air pressing +it. Upon sudden impulse I swung my arm with a swimming stroke; it +slewed me around and I nearly fell.</p> + +<p>“Jeff! Sit down!” Arturo was regarding me. “Sit down!”</p> + +<p>I sat staring at the slot which was the whirling windows. I saw +presently a slanting vista of the dim turgid floor of the sea come up, +swing over and go level as we settled upon it. I noticed then that the +sense of lightness of my body was gone. I felt, on my feet, almost a +normal weight; and I knew that most of the lightness was caused by our +rapid descent—one feels it, descending in a swiftly-dropping elevator +car.</p> + +<p>Arturo, Tad and Entt, over at the instrument table, were actively +busy. Their low voices reached me, but the interior of the globe was +buzzing with sound; and from outside our walls there came the noise of +a violent swishing. Here on the dark, soundless floor of the sea, was +the sound of tumbling, thrashing water!</p> + +<p>I stood swaying, straining to see through the blurred slot of the +revolving globe-windows. The dark ocean floor; then I caught a glimpse +of what seemed an abyss; a tumbling white area of swirling water; a +pit, near at hand where the water was lashed white with a huge circular +swirl like a giant whirlpool. We were sucked into it.</p> + +<p>Arturo’s voice: “Sit down, Jeff. Hang tight. You fool, don’t stand up +like that!”</p> + +<p>The globe, took a violent plunge. There was a brief, dizzying interval +of chaos. We seemed almost falling free, turning end over end. I clung +to my seat. I could see the others clinging, too. A few moments, then +we steadied.</p> + +<p>We were, as far as I could determine, in the center of a circular +whirlpool. The water held level; but now we were descending—our rapid +turning motion screwing us downward. Another mile down. Or five miles. +I thought it that; and Arturo believed it that far.</p> + +<p>He came over, after another interval, and sat beside me. “Strange, +Jeff? We’re almost at the bottom. How do you feel?”</p> + +<p>“Horrible.”</p> + +<p>He laughed briefly. “It will pass. We’ll be at the first of the locks +shortly.”</p> + +<p>He sat, seeming not anxious to talk. Nor was I, for every breath I +drew was still an effort. We were dropping down like an elevator car, +the walls of the globe whirling on the upright axis. Tad and Entt were +scanning the dials. Entt spoke; Tad reached for a lever.</p> + +<p>Our descent seemed slackening. The whirlpool of water was stilled; +through the window slot I could see the water, black, with a turgid, +inky blackness. There was a perceptible jarring vibration; we settled +upon some bottom surface and stood like a top, spinning.</p> + +<p>“There,” said Arturo; his voice held relief. “Thank Heavens!”</p> + +<p>The light in the water outside abruptly vanished, as Entt switched it +off. A blank blackness out there. And then I saw a radiance; far away, +it seemed, along a vaulted tunnel in which we lay. A radiance that +congealed into a beam of light. It darted at us; gripped us. The globe +shivered. My memory leaped back to the Dolphin, caught in the clutch of +a similar beam. This one held us; drew us forward into the tunnel. The +black tunnel walls went flashing past.</p> + +<p>Arturo said: “They’ve got us safely. It’s all right now—”</p> + +<p>Oh, I was not the only one who had been perturbed at this descent into +the abyss! Arturo was utterly relieved.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“We’ll be in the first lock very soon, Jeff,” he panted.</p> + +<p>“How far?” With my labored breathing I was sparing of words.</p> + +<p>He said: “Ten miles or so. I don’t know. They’ve got us safely.” He +called: “Tad, they waited. Suppose—they had deserted us—”</p> + +<p>“Arturo, this rotation—this spinning—”</p> + +<p>“Don’t talk yet, Jeff.”</p> + +<p>I labored. “I mean the rotation screwed us downward—”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Then why doesn’t it—stop now?”</p> + +<p>“The exterior pressure. Our rotation absorbs it—like the Dolphin’s +water-jacket—give father credit, he struck the principle—it’s well +known down here.”</p> + +<p>“Arturo—you talk—tell me—I can’t talk to question you—”</p> + +<p>He laughed at that. “Do you think—I don’t feel the pressure change? I +do. Take it easy, Jeff—you’ll understand in good time. Ah, there’s the +lock.”</p> + +<p>Our globe stopped. In a dull glow outside I could see us wait an +instant, then drift downward through a huge metallic door. It yawned +open to receive us; it closed above us as we floated down through it.</p> + +<p>We were in a square, cavelike room. Water filled it.</p> + +<p>“The first lock,” said Arturo. “They’ll change the water pressure; +then we’ll go down into the next one. Ten altogether. We’ll be ten or +fifteen minutes in each.”</p> + +<p>A new realm beneath us. My thoughts struggled to encompass it all. A +mile, ten miles over my head, the ocean floor. Already it seemed so +remote. The abyss of our Pacific Ocean. Above its depths, our great +atmospheric realm.</p> + +<p>Down here a new world, unknown; throughout all the uncounted centuries +of the past, unknown save where our legends had glimpsed it. Another +realm. A civilization, a science here; things mechanical; the rational +thought of rational humans. These locks, gateways, changing pressures +were all planned and built by skillful human effort.</p> + +<p>So strange a thing!</p> + +<p>The lock was dimly lighted. In the silence I could hear the throb of +outside pumps, the gurgle of air bubbles, and the hiss of air and +water. Against the side wall of the lock room, there was a small, +transparent dome. A dull light was in it. The water was excluded. The +figure of a man showed in there, bent over a table of instruments, it +was the lockkeeper, attending the pumps for our downward passage.</p> + +<p>Tad came over. “I say, Arturo, no twenty-hour watchman ever got as +hungry as I am. How you feeling, Jeff?”</p> + +<p>“Better,” I said, “but terrible.”</p> + +<p>“You’ll ease up. We’re rotating slower now. In the fifth lock, we stop.”</p> + +<p>I noticed that the globe seemed spinning not quite so fast. Tad +insisted: “Can’t we eat, Arturo? Let’s have Nereid fix it up.”</p> + +<p>We passed down into the second lock. The spinning of the globe slowed +another notch. The second lock was a room like the first. The overhead +door swung closed. The pumps outside throbbed. I could see the water +changing; a thinner quality, its turgidness leaving it, a limpid aspect +coming to it.</p> + +<p>Nereid opened a table and set food before us. They all ate save myself; +I could no more than taste it—queer looking food which all of them +appeared to relish.</p> + +<p>We passed down into the third lock; and the fourth and fifth. In each, +Entt slowed our rotation. The slot separated into the spinning windows; +in the fifth lock they halted. Our globe lay inert, vibrationless +at least, I felt immediately less oppressed, but it was largely +psychological, for the air we were breathing was unchanged.</p> + +<p>“Is this the normal air where we are going?” I demanded.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Arturo, “it will be always like that. But you’ll get used +to it. They’re thinning the water outside—presently we’ll be out into +air just like this.” He added, abruptly: “Jeff, it’s a relief to have +you here. We are engaged in a desperate thing, Jeff. The welfare of our +world up there depends on it—and more than that, Nereid’s people—”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>I interrupted: “Day before yesterday, when the public was given the +news—” I said it casually, then stopped. Day before yesterday! Was it +only that? It seemed so long ago—so far away, so like a vague dream, +that bright other world up there which was mine. “When the public was +given the news, there was almost a panic—”</p> + +<p>“News? What news?” They stared at me.</p> + +<p>“Why,” I said, “the news that the oceans are receding again. A real +drop this time. We couldn’t mistake it, because—”</p> + +<p>My voice trailed away. I gazed in surprise. My words seemed a +bombshell. Arturo went visibly whiter; Tad’s jaw dropped. Nereid +exchanged a glance of sudden fear with Entt. They all sat confounded.</p> + +<p>“Oceans—dropping?”</p> + +<p>“Why yes. Off nearly three fathoms. We realized then—”</p> + +<p>They sat confounded. They did not know that the menace had come to our +world! I had assumed, of course, that they did, that they had sent for +me, in some crisis now that the danger had come again.</p> + +<p>Arturo gasped. “It has come! Tad, my God, after all we’ve planned! Done +it now—why, what she has dared to do—why, it’s irrevocable! We can’t +stop it now, Tad!”</p> + +<p>A fear, a horror lay upon them all, and I saw that this was something +more than the menace of the draining of our oceans, and a war with +these people of the abyss. Something, to Nereid and Entt, more +personal—more horrifying. And to Tad and Arturo, the defeat of all +their plans.</p> + +<p>Arturo leaped to his feet. “We’ve got to hasten—where are we?”</p> + +<p>“Seventh lock,” said Tad. He had recovered his poise; he gestured +vehemently. “Sit down, Arturo—can’t do anything yet.”</p> + +<p>Arturo stood at a window. I joined him. “You didn’t know?”</p> + +<p>“No! Of course not! We’ve been fighting it! She dared—”</p> + +<p>“She?” I gripped him, “Who, Arturo?”</p> + +<p>He shook me off, turned on me sharply. “Let me alone! We’ve got to +get down to the City of the Mound, I tell you! To Nereid’s father. He +probably knows about it now.”</p> + +<p>The water in the seventh lock was thin and limpid clear. I could see +the attendant in the dome-shaped cubby. He met Arturo’s gaze; he smiled +and gestured a greeting. Arturo tried to call him.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be a loon!” said Tad sharply. “He can’t hear you. If he did, he +couldn’t understand your language. You know that. Wait till we get to +the tenth. Then we can get the car and hurry.”</p> + +<p>I put my hand on Arturo’s arm. “This is something more than we thought +it was before? Our oceans draining. A war—”</p> + +<p>He swung on me. “It’s all that, yes. And more—Nereid’s world is to be +annihilated, Jeff! A million people, her people, drowned like rats in +a trap unless they can escape upward in time! That’s what we’ve been +fearing—and it’s come!”</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>WHAT THE WHITE GLARE SHOWED.</h3> + + +<p>The ninth lock was filled with a white, swirling mist, air now; water +no longer, yet I had not remarked when the change came. I stood with +Arturo at the window; the room outside was gray with dank, wet fog. As +we rested in the lock, the pumps outside were hissing with the changing +air. The fog dissolved; the air seemed clear, with only a dim haze. +The door to the lock under us swung slowly open. We were lowered, our +weight handled now by mechanical device. We came to rest in the tenth +lock. The air became wholly clear, the moisture gone from it.</p> + +<p>“Very good,” said Tad. They were preparing to leave. “Shall I open the +door, Entt?”</p> + +<p>“When we get, what you say—the signal.”</p> + +<p>The tenth lock was a room like the others, a square, solid, metallic +room, with girders of metal reënforcing its rock walls. It was dully +illumined by an indirect light, whose source I could not see. The +keeper sat with his instruments in a cubby; there was no dome over him. +Figures moved on the lock floor about our globe—figures of men, down +under the bulge of our walls; I could not see them clearly. They were +clamping some mechanism upon us; the globe was swung aside, into an +alcove evidently to store it.</p> + +<p>A metallic, railed balcony ran midway of the room. Arturo gestured. +I saw standing up there the figure of a woman. A brawny, powerful +figure, gray-white of limb, with hair dead black. She stood on the +balcony, gesturing down at the workmen, evidently commanding. A tall, +gray figure, five feet ten, at the least. I could see her only dimly; a +white shield like thin, flexible metal bound her torso; black coils of +her long hair crossed her breast.</p> + +<p>Our globe was drawn aside; the woman gestured vehemently at us. Entt +called. “She said, ready now.”</p> + +<p>Tad was moving about the globe. “Come on. We want a fast car, Entt.”</p> + +<p>We swung open the globe’s heavy door. There was a gentle inrush of +air; it seemed purer, fresher; but it brought an intensified smell of +earthly dankness. Our voices in it were heavy, muffled.</p> + +<p>I gathered up my few possessions, and we were ready. Entt extinguished +the soft lights of the globe. Our round doorway showed with the dull +radiance outside; voices in a strange tongue floated in to us; the +clanking sounds of mechanisms; the last hiss of rushing air. The +woman’s voice sounded sharp, vehemently commanding. With pounding heart +I went down the swaying incline which they had put up. I stood on the +damp metallic floor.</p> + +<p>The realm of the abyss!</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Black-garbed figures crowded around us. Entt scattered them. The gray +woman on the balcony stood gazing down at us.</p> + +<p>Entt led us away.</p> + +<p>“See here,” said Arturo, “Entt, you tell her we must have the fastest +car. Tell her we’re in a hurry.”</p> + +<p>Entt called up. His words echoed dully through the heavy air. The woman +answered—a brief, sharp, rasping retort. Her gray-white arm waved us +away.</p> + +<p>Arturo spurred us with fevered haste. We went through a small, heavy +door. Down a ladder, out into an open space.</p> + +<p>A sense of great open distance lay around me. It was wholly dark; a +pregnant darkness wherein I felt that many strange things might be +seen. A heavy, slow-moving breeze, coming from far off, stirred against +my hot, tingling cheeks.</p> + +<p>I gazed into what seemed an ocean of black space. I tried to focus my +straining eyes upon something. Ah, there were stars! But I knew it +was incredible. Not stars; points of twinkling light. They gleamed +overhead, straight before me, to the sides, and even below—far ahead, +but on a lower level than we were walking, so that I stopped suddenly, +clutching at Arturo with the feeling that an abyss must yawn at my feet.</p> + +<p>“This way, Jeff. Can you see?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Hold to me. The car is right here.”</p> + +<p>Tiny, distant points of light, like stars. I gazed at them across what +was immeasurable blank distance.</p> + +<p>But near at hand there were things vaguely to be seen. The dull blob of +a passing man’s figure. A hundred feet away, perhaps, the vaguest of +yellow radiance. Figures there; and a long, gleaming white thing lying +in an upraised framework.</p> + +<p>Entt headed us toward it. I walked, swaying as though alcoholite had +befuddled me. A different gravity here. I felt lighter; yet it was +not so much that. A difference. There have since been many learned +discussions on this subject; I am not one to attempt it in technical +detail. I felt as though all my weight were not pressing upon my feet +with a downward pull in normal fashion. There was a side thrust—first +one side and then the other as I chanced to be moving.</p> + +<p>As though by inertia, my movement tended abnormally to persist. A +different application of the gravitational force. And I believe, too, +that the quality of this air had its effect. It seemed an atmosphere +almost ponderable as I plowed through it. There was a sensible pressing +of it upon me; the weight of the breeze was tangibly heavy.</p> + +<p>“Here!” cried Arturo. “Get away, you!” He moved with irritable +aggression at a man who crowded us, gaping curiously.</p> + +<p>A flight into the void, by air! This was an aërocar, waiting here for +us. A white structure of thin, flexible metal, some twenty feet long by +four feet wide—open and flat like a long toboggan. There were seats +on it, two abreast. A low railing, with bulging pontoons glowing dimly +yellow. A streamlike thing; its forward end held a V-shaped windshield +six feet high. Behind it a group of controls. Like a bowsprit of some +ancient sailing vessel, a metallic tube projected out front. It glowed +with a greenish phosphorescence.</p> + +<p>We climbed on board. None of the attendants came with us; a group of +them stood staring, whispering among themselves. Entt spoke to them +briefly. The car trembled. The bowsprit tube in advance of us grew more +intensely luminous, like a wire electrically heated in the darkness. +The air around the tube snapped with a myriad tiny sparks.</p> + +<p>Arturo said: “That air out front is dissolving—we’ll move forward into +the vacuum.”</p> + +<p>The glowing pontoons along our sides hissed with a downward thrust of +gas. We lifted. The metallic stage with its staring group of figures +dropped away. Entt tilted the luminous tube a trifle upward. We slid +forward into the vacuum.</p> + +<p>Faster. The wind went rushing past us. We slid out and upward into the +blackness of the void, with its tiny points of light twinkling like +stars in the distance.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>I have flown, off and on, all my life. But this flight in the void of +the abyss had an eerie unreality. Unreal, like the magic fancy of a +child. Witches on a broomstick, with the rushing night around them, +slanting up into the stars. Or a magic strip of carpet, this white +thing upon which we crouched. Rushing through the wind; flexible, +bending, undulating throughout its length beneath us.</p> + +<p>We spoke very little; the noise of the wind tore at our words. I pulled +at Arturo’s arm.</p> + +<p>“How long—this flight?”</p> + +<p>“An hour and a half, perhaps.”</p> + +<p>My eyes seemed growing accustomed to the darkness; I strained them +into the black space dotted with stars. Not many; occasional groups of +them, above us, and as I gazed down over the low rail, I could see them +twinkling underneath. The immensity of celestial space, as though we +were rushing through it, out among the stars.</p> + +<p>The sensation was suddenly dispelled. These were not stars, gigantic, +infinitely far away, but points of man-made light, comparatively close. +Gazing down, with vision expanding now in the darkness, I made out +a vague black surface sliding under us. It lay, not horizontal, but +sloping at a sharp angle, and I knew then that we were flying tilted +partly sidewise. And while I stared, it swung level as we righted.</p> + +<p>A dark surface of land; and the stars were lights down there. I saw +them now as different colors, and in groups which might serve as +landmarks.</p> + +<p>The thin white shape of another aërocar rushed past us overhead.</p> + +<p>We were descending now. I had guessed the surface to be some ten +thousand feet beneath us. We dropped lower. I could make out a rocky, +undulating landscape. Occasional patches of what might have been soil. +Shining, narrow ribbons of roads. Areas of vegetation.</p> + +<p>We passed over a village. Dull spots of light, merged into a glow. I +saw the dark shapes of houses; on a hillside, tiers of them. There +was movement down there, in city streets. Off to one side, beyond the +settlement, a great flat structure was bathed in a red blast of light. +It seemed a factory. A pit in the rocks beside it glowed red.</p> + +<p>We swept on. The settlement vanished behind us. I saw a point of light, +like a beacon, set on the summit of a rocky cliff. It changed color +at intervals. Entt remarked it, with a gesture to Tad. He swung the +controls; we went into a sharp, upward climb.</p> + +<p>There were points of light always showing in the black void over our +heads. As we had descended toward the rocky landscape, the lights +overhead had grown very dim. I gazed up at them. They twinkled up +there, very faint and dim now. I wondered what they could be. Not +aërial beacons, poised over us? As we climbed, they began to brighten.</p> + +<p>My imagination struggled to cope with this I was seeing. This silent +realm down here—I had the sense of a great celestial spaciousness, but +I knew that it was not so. This was within our earth, underground; a +great, black void here, like a titanic cave. Yet it must be of finite +area; comparatively small. Over my head now—up there where the points +of light blazed like stars—must be some great rocky ceiling. And above +that, miles above it, no doubt, my imagination saw the floor of our +Pacific Ocean!</p> + +<p>We ascended in a steep slant. The upper stars brightened. The lights +beneath dimmed with distance. Then I saw overhead the outlines of what +indeed was a rocky ceiling. It spread horizontally over us; eight or +ten thousand feet still up there, at the least. I saw the lights set in +this rocky ceiling.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>And then I gasped. With sudden, changing viewpoint, I saw what was the +truth. There were ribbons of roads on the rocky ceiling. Patches of +open space that might have been soil. An open area glowing with light; +houses in it—a settlement! It hung up there, the distant, small image +of it—a settlement of houses and streets, upside down, perilously +clinging to our ceiling!</p> + +<p>It was then that my viewpoint changed. I envisaged, very suddenly, that +our aëro was flying overturned. This land was beneath us, not above! +Hanging head downward, as I have often done in a Wasp, I was staring +down at this dark surface over which we were speeding. And as though to +verify the fancy, I heard Entt speak, and saw him swing us. The void +began slowly turning over. The dim stars came slowly swinging overhead; +the rocky ceiling went down and steadied horizontally beneath us. +Normality came again.</p> + +<p>I grasped it now. This void, this titanic cave, was peopled on all +its inner surface. Floor and ceiling, no difference. So strange! And +yet was it? My fancy held that just a moment ago, this void had swung +completely over. Our whole great earth lying outside it, had turned. +This ceiling, which now was beneath us, was not a ceiling, but a floor. +But in reality it was only our aëro which had turned.</p> + +<p>So strange a thing, this inner surface peopled both top and bottom; up +and down. But was it so strange? On the surface of our earth, we in the +Americas visualize ourselves always as upright. Our heads are to the +stars; our feet to the great earth which always lies bulging under us. +And we can fancy China, down there with all its people hanging head +downward. Yet we know that in twelve hours, they must be on top, and +ourselves hanging down.</p> + +<p>Up and down! Meaningless terms when used to try and denote anything of +the Absolute! There is, indeed, in all our universe, no term of time or +space, or motion that means anything, when taken by itself alone.</p> + +<p>The gravity here in this void? The new textbooks explain it in most +learned fashion. They talk of different air quality, different pressure +down here. The great bulk of our earth, encompassing this inner void +to give rise to whole new sets of mathematical formulæ. They say that +our scientists had never before encountered an underground area which +had its own atmosphere, subject to its own pressures and laws. Let them +have their say; I tell only what I saw and felt.</p> + +<p>We were dropping suddenly downward in a swift spiral. Arturo touched +me. “The City of the Mound. See it there?”</p> + +<p>A low, rocky mound-shaped hill lay beneath us, a mile or so off to one +side. It was dotted with lights, covered with houses—low, circular +houses, seemingly of a gray-black stone. We dropped lower. The mound +was perhaps three hundred feet high. The houses were set on its slopes, +in tiers. Streets were between them, in orderly array—horizontal +streets, like circular bands around the hill; and there were other +streets running down the slope. One side was a gentle declivity; the +other, a steep, almost precipitous descent. The street there went down +a broad, metallic ladder.</p> + +<p>Arturo gestured. “Her house is there—the Great Woman. At the top of +the mound.”</p> + +<p>The wind was lessening as our flight slowed and we settled. I demanded:</p> + +<p>“What woman? That one we saw in the tenth lock?”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense. She was a subordinate. The Empress—I call her that. Ruler +of this realm, I mean; you’ll see her. We had intended to have you—”</p> + +<p>He broke off. He was highly nervous—high-pitched, overwrought, I could +not mistake it; abstracted, deep in his own thoughts, with little time +yet for me. And he was never one to brook questions.</p> + +<p>I turned away from him, absorbing myself in the scene of our landing. +At the very peak of the mound was the house Arturo had indicated. A +squat spreading building of dark frowning ramparts like some ancient +moldy fortress. It stood there with a faint sheen of light upon it, +grim and forbidding. Around it was an open space—a garden, with paths +and low shrubs; beyond that, encircling it, a low palisade like a +fence, with the city houses crowding it.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>We were still at a high enough altitude for me to get a distant view. +The houses covered the mound, and at its foot, thinner down on the +level, they spread out into suburbs over the near-by rocky landscape. +At the outer city fringes I saw a distant field with things growing.</p> + +<p>It was everywhere a squat, solid landscape. The houses, all of one low +story, sat squat upon the ground. There were trees, a dark forest over +which we passed. The trees spread thick and wide, but low to the ground +like shrubs. There was little height to anything.</p> + +<p>I had seen no water. But now, on the edge of the city, I made out a +dull-white, winding ribbon that I thought might be a river.</p> + +<p>We swung down to within a thousand feet of the frowning palace +fortress. On its flat roof in a sheen of light I could make out the +tiny dark blobs of figures standing in a group by a parapet-wall. +From the roof a point of fire suddenly mounted. It came up toward us, +mounting slowly. My heart leaped; for an instant I thought it was a +missile, sent up to strike and destroy us. But it rose no more than +a hundred feet; then it opened into a great ball of white light. For +perhaps a minute it hung poised, burning.</p> + +<p>Entt gave a cry of fear. He and Nereid sat with hands to their eyes, +blinded by the white glare. I felt our aëro wavering; Arturo leaped +from my side; he and Tad, themselves shading their eyes, clung to the +controls. We wavered, but they held us steady after a moment, circling +over the fortress-roof, spiraling slowly down.</p> + +<p>On the roof-top, the figures stood with what seemed dark glasses over +their eyes. We had dropped still lower; I made them out plainly. Twenty +of them at least; most of them tall, gray-limbed women. They stood +gazing, not at us, but down at the city, regarding with shaded eyes the +scene revealed by the white glare of light they had sent up.</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt=""> + <div class="caption"> + <p><i>A minute of blinding glare showed a strange scene.</i></p> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<p>A crowd of people pressed against the garden palisade. Some of them had +evidently climbed it and were in the fortress garden. Men, and women +with flowing tawny hair. All of them like Nereid and Entt. A different +race from these gray giantess Amazons on the roof-top. They thronged +against the garden palisade. Crowds of them surged in all the upper +city streets. Crude weapons were in their hands—implements, perhaps, +of agriculture.</p> + +<p>An attack upon the fortress. It seemed so. It had evidently been done +quietly—now which was doubtless the quiet time of sleep. But it had +been discovered. In the white revealing glare the mob was stricken. +The blinded figures in the garden were trying to run back—in a panic +trying to escape. They stumbled, fell. Rose and blindly staggered away. +I saw one run headlong against a tree trunk.</p> + +<p>The quiet of the scene—it had been wholly quiet in the darkness a +moment before—was broken by their cries of panic. At the palisade the +milling throng was struggling to force its way backward against the +press of those behind. The city was in a turmoil.</p> + +<p>A minute of that white glare; then the flare burned out and blank +darkness came again. For a time I could see nothing. I heard Arturo’s +and Tad’s voices:</p> + +<p>“Tad, my God—did you see that?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“It’s come—the revolt! But, Tad, we’re not ready. Nothing is ready—”</p> + +<p>From beneath us, on the dark fortress-roof we were nearing, a cry +floated up. A strident, woman’s voice, laughing ironically.</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>THE SATANIC EMPRESS.</h3> + + +<p>“Tad! Raise us up! Are you going to land on the fortress? Get us away +from here!”</p> + +<p>We skimmed over the fortress. The gray figures gazed up at us. We swung +down the slope of the mound, close over the city streets and roofs. +The houses seemed, most of them, from six to ten feet high. I saw, on +the level area just beyond the foot of the mound slope, the house upon +which Arturo and Tad intended to land—a broad, flat roof. There was +a dim light on it; in the glow, a figure of a man stood waiting to +receive us.</p> + +<p>We settled down and came to rest. The roof was oval, fully fifty feet +across. It had small flowering shrubs, paths, and a sort of lawn on +which we landed—a moldy brown turf. Off at one end, bathed in the dim +light, was a pergola with seats and banks of blossoms. The man stood +off there. He came hastening forward as we settled.</p> + +<p>“Fen!” Arturo called to him. “Here we are, Fen! We got him. Did you +know they tried to attack the Castle? It was discovered. She saw +them—in the white glare.”</p> + +<p>It was Nereid’s father. He came and held Nereid in a close embrace, +then shook hands with the rest of us. He was an old man, sixty, or +eighty, I could not have said which. White of skin, with tawny hair +long to his shoulders—a wavy mass of hair, grown dull and dead looking +with his age. But he was a sturdy vigorous old fellow, no taller than +Entt, slight of build, erect and straight for all his years. And +dignified; his loose, dark robe fell to his knees; a girdle bound his +slim waist; on his chest was an ornament in beaten white metal of +strange device. I recognized it—the device Arturo, and later myself, +had used on our flash lights as a signal.</p> + +<p>He stood me off and regarded me. “So this—you call ‘Jeff’?” He +gestured to me apologetically. “I cannot talk the language of +yours—the young learn—I am old.” His gaze swept me from head to foot. +“Strange dress—he is so big, Arturo, as you said it.”</p> + +<p>“But it’s too late for that,” Arturo rejoined swiftly. He added to me: +“They worship size, these Gian women. I had planned, Jeff, to send you +to the Empress Rhana—you are so tall and strong—taller than any man +here. She would have liked you.”</p> + +<p>So that was it. I began vaguely to understand. But only vaguely; it was +still all so strange.</p> + +<p>They were all talking at once. Partly in my own language; partly in +this other, which was wholly unintelligible. Fen, like them all, was +plainly agitated. I grasped a few details, mostly from Tad’s swift +explanations. There were two races—one small, white-skinned; the +other larger—the gray women and their men, who were the ruling +class. They were called the Gians. Tad explained: “They have a word +<i>dgie</i>—it means large. Nereid’s people are the <i>Mdj</i>. You +can’t pronounce it, but it suggests Middge—we call them that.”</p> + +<p>The Middge were the workers—oppressed, downtrodden. They had been +for months upon the verge of a revolt. Fen was helping its secret +organization; weapons secretly were being manufactured in the +underground fire caverns where the Middge worked. But the news of the +oncoming water had suddenly stirred the Middge public here to panic; +this abortive mob attack on the fortress was the result. The whole City +of the Mound was in a turmoil. It could do nothing but harm to the +Middge cause.</p> + +<p>Such fragments I gleaned. Fen knew that the Gians had opened the great +gates to drain our upper oceans. He knew of the demonstration against +the Castle, but was powerless to stop it. He had stayed at home to +await our coming. His eyes were not affected; he had been indoors, and +had escaped the light.</p> + +<p>But Entt and Nereid, even now, were almost blinded. They sat together +for the few moments while this swift talk proceeded. Our roof was so +low that in a bound I could have leaped its parapet and vaulted to the +ground. The city lay upward on the slope of the mound near at hand; in +the gloom its dull winking lights were visible. The cries of the mob +still sounded loudly.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>It was decided that we should make our way on foot to the summit and +see what was transpiring. Fen was afraid that the thoughtless leaders +of the mob might make threats which would warn the Gians and divulge +that an intelligent, armed revolution was being organized. He wanted to +stop that if he could, and pacify the mob; quell this disturbance.</p> + +<p>They took me down into the house. Its oval stone rooms were furnished +in strange but obviously luxurious fashion; each had a tiny hooded +light. The ceilings were so low that I had to stoop a trifle. They gave +me a black suit, like those of Arturo and Tad. Abroad in the city I +would thus attract less attention. For my feet there were flexible hide +sandals, with thongs to bind them on.</p> + +<p>We gathered in a room with an outer doorway. It had all been done +swiftly; not more than ten minutes had passed since we landed on the +roof.</p> + +<p>We were ready to start. There was a sound of swift padding feet in the +near-by corridor, and a man burst into the room. He seemed a family +servant. He came running in, babbling with fear; and clung to Fen.</p> + +<p>I could understand nothing that was said as they gathered for a moment +around him. He seemed wholly terrorized. He was a Gian—there was no +mistaking the gray look to his skin; his black hair was shaved close +on a bullet head—but he was small, certainly not over five feet in +height. Dressed like the rest of us in the brief black garment, his +figure had a flabby, pudgy look. A fellow, I thought, outcast by his +race and come now to be a servant in Fen’s household.</p> + +<p>A broad, brown girdle bound his waist; it suggested an apron. Under his +arm he had a conical hat, with a bushy animal tail like a plume on it. +He clapped it on his head; it was grotesquely ornamental to the rest of +him. His whining voice seemed pleading with Fen.</p> + +<p>Tad came over to where I was standing apart. “Their servant, Bhool. +He’s afraid to be left here—he says the Middge will break in and +murder him.”</p> + +<p>I could not blame him for that. But he seemed a sniveling, craven +fellow. Tad was contemptuous. “He’s always been like that—afraid of +everything. And a listener in doorways—curious to know everything +everybody’s doing and then go into a panic over it. By the code, I’d +have had him thrown out of here long ago!”</p> + +<p>We took Bhool with us. Nereid, able to see a little now, fumbled for +a dark cloak of her own. She flung it over Bhool, so that in the +street he might pass unnoticed as a Gian. He was still sniveling. But +he eyed me curiously, amazed evidently at my size. In my own world I +could never have been termed excessively tall, though in the six-foot +class—to be exact, I stood just at six feet two inches. At this time I +weighed about a hundred and ninety. With my breadth of shoulder, I was +still lean at this weight. The sniveling fellow Bhool gazed up at me +awed, and edged away, fearful of me.</p> + +<p>We started. The streets at the foot of the Mound were deserted; narrow, +rocky streets, hemmed in by the stone walls of the low houses. It +was dim; there were apparently no public lights, only the occasional +glow from a house window, doorway or roof-top. We walked swiftly, Fen +leading with his vigorous stride.</p> + +<p>The air in the streets was hot, moist and oppressive. I felt that +queer, different thrust of gravity upon me, but I was getting used to +it now. I walked like the others, with a solid, plowing tread.</p> + +<p>We turned a corner and were soon upon the upward slope. I had expected +to find it different, walking uphill in this oppressive air. It was +not; I noticed, indeed, very little difference from walking on the +level ground.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Tad was beside me. “Listen to it, Jeff. Raising the devil up there—”</p> + +<p>We were still some half mile from the Castle. Cries sounded, occasional +screams ringing clear; and the low, blended murmur of the mob.</p> + +<p>But the street here was empty and soundless. In our sandals we padded +over its stones. There were street corners, yawning, empty and dark. +Black shadows where low archways opened like tunnel mouths into the +house. A woman with a baby in her arms came to a window and gazed at +us. Her white face, caught by an inner light was close to me as we +passed. Her eyes were stark black with fear.</p> + +<p>At a corner a group of men went running past and swung up the hill. +They were small, white-skinned folk, and they shouted at Fen. We +followed.</p> + +<p>As we advanced, the murmur of the mob up ahead sounded clearer. The +streets soon were filled. We passed a man, blind and seemingly in a +frenzy of fear. He staggered through the crowd. Some one caught him, +fought him, led him away.</p> + +<p>There were white forms lying in the street. The mob had evidently +surged down this far in its first blind panic and many were crushed. +We passed the slim white figure of a man whom some one had carried to +his own doorstep and dropped. A wailing woman knelt over him; a little +girl, curious, half frightened, stood beside the woman, plucking at her +robe.</p> + +<p>The servant, Bhool, kept close beside me now. His touch strangely +angered me; once, I thrust him away.</p> + +<p>We forced ourselves into the crowd. No one seemed to notice us. When we +came to the palisade, Fen saw an opening in the jam.</p> + +<p>“All of us keep together.” He forced his way forward. We found a place +to climb. It was a metallic fence some six feet high. Upon impulse +I put my hands on its top and tried to vault. I sailed over it with +astonishing ease, and landed lightly on the other side.</p> + +<p>The garden was crowded with people, but there was more room here than +in the upper street. Small, upright shrubs stood about, some vaguely +white with blossoms. In the gloom it was hard to tell them from the +human forms.</p> + +<p>We followed a gray stone path. The Castle loomed ahead, with walls some +thirty feet high. They stretched out seemingly for several hundred +feet—a squat, but widely spreading structure; its walls were turreted +at the angles; the windows all seemed guarded with interlaced metal +bars. A frowning prison of a building. A black vegetation clung to the +walls. There were small doorways along the ground at intervals—black, +barred openings with tiny lights in canopies over them.</p> + +<p>We tried to keep together. Arturo stayed always close by Nereid, +fending her off from the milling crowd. It was a threatening mob, here +in the garden. Aimless, apparently without a leader. It milled and +struggled, men and women brandishing implements of the field, or huge +sticks, and shouting aimless threats. There were many, recovered of +the blindness, who fought to press forward. There were others, still +blind and in terror, who strove to run away, or sat upon the ground +in huddled fright. And still others, lying inert, wholly unnoticed by +their fellows.</p> + +<p>I whispered to Tad: “Where are we going?”</p> + +<p>“Up closer. I don’t know.”</p> + +<p>Bhool whiningly suggested: “This way, masters—”</p> + +<p>We faced a broad front entrance to the Castle. A low flight of stone +steps led ten feet up to it. Gray figures of women stood in the +shadows up there, like guards. There seemed no more than four or five +of them. They stood in the entrance way; vaguely to be seen in its +shadows—stood silent and motionless. There was about them, these +motionless figures, something queerly sinister, as though they held +a power that made them impregnable to all this threatening crowd. +The Castle itself had that sinister aspect. Its grim silence; its +inactivity. It stood, here in the gloom, silently confident. I felt, +too, as I gazed at it, an inward sense of fear. A revulsion. As +though within these darkly brooding walls fearsome things must have +transpired.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The more courageous of the mob had surged toward the entrance steps +which now we were facing. They stood in a ring near the bottom of the +steps. But there seemed a deadline beyond which none dared pass; the +ground twenty feet out from the front of the steps was all clear. +The mob stood calling imprecations and brandishing weapons, but not +advancing. Waiting for a leader, perhaps. Occasionally some one would +rush forward, or be thrust forward by those behind. But after a step or +two, the would-be leader always retreated. And up in the entrance way +the gray Gian women never moved.</p> + +<p>Fen—with Bhool urging him sidewise—led us toward the steps; the crowd +was so dense we were soon struggling to advance. I was literally wading +through these little people; their bodies felt frail and slight as I +roughly thrust them aside. I called: “Arturo, let me over there.” I +joined him, to guard Nereid in the jam.</p> + +<p>Around us a man’s cry arose—a cry of triumph. Others took it up. There +was a surge of people toward me; behind me I saw them following like a +wave. Calling at me in friendly triumph. My height, head and shoulders +above them all; my white skin, clear to them in the darkness—they +suddenly saw in me their needed leader. They surged triumphantly around +me.</p> + +<p>But Fen, with vehement words, scattered them. We forced our way to the +open space, beyond which was the Castle entrance. We were at one side, +not far from the side edge of the steps. I felt hands clinging to me. +That accursed, sniveling Bhool; I cast him off.</p> + +<p>I had been aware all this time, of a radiance on the castle roof-top. +Women’s figures were up there in a dull purple glow. We stopped and +gathered around Fen. I gazed upward. The gray figure of a man stood +prominent on the parapet. He was standing like a grim silent statue. +He suddenly whirled, leaped down, and in a moment reappeared. A woman +was with him. A group of men came running on the roof with a small bank +of steps. The man helped the woman mount them. She came up with a slow +regal majesty, the men deferentially helping her. She stood on the +broad parapet top, and the man crouched at her feet.</p> + +<p>“Rhana!”</p> + +<p>A wave of it went over the crowd, followed by a sudden hushed murmur of +awe. Then the hush broke; there was a screaming of threats; a violent +surging on the mob. But I noticed that no one advanced; and the cries +presently died away again into a fear-struck silence.</p> + +<p>The woman on the parapet waited serene and motionless. She was no +more than fifty feet from me; the purple sheen of light etched her +vividly. A woman six feet tall; full-breasted, slim of hip. A flexible +heart-shaped shield bound her torso; her gray limbs were free. The +shield gleamed purple in the light like smooth polished metal, +thin-beaten to mold itself like a sheath about her body.</p> + +<p>She stood with figure drawn to its full height. Her head, poised upon +a slim neck, was crowned with black hair wound in coils, with a black +metallic headdress. Against the night, her profile showed; slim neck +and upheld chin—a nose high-bridged, hawklike.</p> + +<p>She raised her arms as the mob in the garden fell silent. Broad +bracelets of metal were on her wrists, and from them heavy gleaming +white chains dangled. Abruptly she struck with her arm; the white chain +swished and lashed upon the naked gray back of the man crouching at her +feet. He cringed, slid off the parapet and vanished to the roof-top. +She stood smiling.</p> + +<p>This woman, Satanic—</p> + +<p>It was a gesture wholly cruel, unnecessary. A blow deliberate, without +anger, without reason save that it pandered to the feminine vanity of +her, thus to demonstrate her power. I gazed at that hawklike profile. +Almost beautiful; the slim gray throat rising from that full bosom; the +firm, but delicate chin; the mouth, firm-lipped, cruelly smiling now.</p> + +<p>This woman, Satanic. Ah, there were refinements of cruelty that none +but a woman—and a woman like this—could devise! The thought flashed +to me, and it was not long before I had cause to remember it!</p> + +<p>She slowly raised her arms, with the silver chains dangling. And in a +moment, when the silence was complete, she began to speak. Her voice +was low-pitched at first—a calm, confident voice. But there was a +harsh rasp to it.</p> + +<p>The crowd listened to that carrying voice, with the driving sense of +power behind it. To every corner of the garden and to the streets +beyond it rolled clear. A moment, then she was speaking faster. +Fluently; the words tumbling, rising to a climax. She stopped abruptly. +She was raised on tiptoe, every line of her tense. Her arms were up, +palms toward the faces gazing up at her—a gesture half benign, half +menacing. In her pause a faint quavering cheer arose; but under it +there was the murmur of threats. She began again, quietly talking above +the noise.</p> + +<p>Entt, with his blurred sight, had stayed close by Fen. But he seemed +fully recovered now. Nereid stood with her father’s arm protectingly +around her. Tad was there; Arturo and I were a few feet farther away. +The black edge of the fortress steps was near us; and beyond the black +blob of an upstanding shrub the dark wall bulged out in a sort of +turret. I whispered to Arturo:</p> + +<p>“What does she say? Can you understand her?”</p> + +<p>“No, not much of it.” He called cautiously, “Oh, Entt!”</p> + +<p>Entt moved over. “Entt, what is she saying?”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>He told us. She was assuring the Middge people there was no cause +to be frightened. “She says, ‘I am going up to conquer the world of +light. A beautiful region—my Gian army will conquer it. I will rule +everything—prepare it up there for you to come and live so happily.’”</p> + +<p>Arturo burst out: “But, my God, Entt—the abyss here will be flooded. +You know that. If the gates break—they will break, she expects them +to—we’ll all have to get out of here soon, a million or two of the +Middge people. How can they get out?”</p> + +<p>“Wait! She says now she will prepare a way of escape—soon, but just +at this present time all is water up there. When the—what you call +ocean—is partly down, she knows where the Middge can go and wait in +safety.”</p> + +<p>“She lies!” Arturo exclaimed. “She does not care where the people go, +or how they escape!”</p> + +<p>“Wait! I listen more—” Entt moved back to join the others.</p> + +<p>Again I felt a soft, insistent plucking at me; Bhool cringed at my +feet. “Master, look there!”</p> + +<p>In the gloom I could see his shaking gray arm; his hand pointing toward +the shrub and the bulge of the castle wall.</p> + +<p>“What?” I demanded. “Arturo, what does he say?”</p> + +<p>Bhool was insistent: terrorized, but insistent. “Masters, look there!”</p> + +<p>We saw nothing. Bhool stood up; he was trembling. He took a step toward +the shrub. “What is it, masters?”</p> + +<p>Arturo strode to the shrub. He poked about it. We three were alone in +this small shadowed area.</p> + +<p>“Nothing,” whispered Arturo contemptuously. “Bhool, you’re an accursed +whining—”</p> + +<p>“Masters, not there.” We were standing at the shrub. “Over there, at +the wall—a Middge man lying. He is not dead. I saw him move.”</p> + +<p>We took another step or two. The ground sharply descended; six feet +away there seemed a black opening—in the wall—and a faint movement +there. It seemed, not as though some one were lying there, but more +like light. I recall that I was tensed to leap backward with the +premonition of danger. Arturo’s hand gripped me.</p> + +<p>“What is it, Jeff? Can you see anything?”</p> + +<p>We stood tense in the darkness at the brink of the small declivity. +Bhool was behind us. He suddenly pushed us violently with a heave of +his body. We sprawled forward. I fell to my hands and knees; Arturo +was thrown partly upon me. A light was gripping us. It stung; my flesh +smarted in its grip—a tangible force of something holding me. I fought +with it. Arturo was fighting.</p> + +<p>“Jeff—” His voice died in a gurgle. We were being lifted, were sliding +into a yawning doorway.</p> + +<p>I could not shout; my throat was taut, and closing. With Arturo +struggling, half gripping me, we were drawn, sucked inward.</p> + +<p>“Jeff—”</p> + +<p>The darkness closed; the light was phosphorescent, holding us. With +fading senses I slid into a blank, black silence.</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<h3>THE UNDERGROUND CELL.</h3> + + +<p>I recovered consciousness to find myself lying on a soft bed. I seemed +comfortable, luxurious, with a feeling of well-being and pleasure. I +opened my eyes; shuddering memory leaped to me. I sat up.</p> + +<p>I was on a low couch of soft, furry skins. In a dim, vaulted stone +room. On the bed beside me sat Arturo.</p> + +<p>“Well, Jeff!” He smiled at me; relief in his smile. He seemed +uninjured, sitting there waiting anxiously for me to recover +consciousness.</p> + +<p>“You’re not hurt, Jeff? Lean back—take it quietly.”</p> + +<p>My head was suddenly whirling; I leaned against the stone wall behind +me.</p> + +<p>“They said you’d be all right, Jeff.”</p> + +<p>My skin was smarting as though it had been burned; but in a moment my +head steadied. Strength came to me. I sat up vigorously beside Arturo.</p> + +<p>“What was it? Where are we?”</p> + +<p>“In the Castle. They got us. That accursed Bhool—”</p> + +<p>Memory of Bhool came to me. He had betrayed us. A spy, that Gian. I +recalled now, how he had eyed me. How in the garden he had kept edging +me away. All under cover of that sniveling cowardice. An actor, that +fellow!</p> + +<p>Arturo laughed wryly. “I guess so, but I imagine he’s a coward just +the same. It’s a wonder Fen never suspected him. They want you, Jeff, +evidently. She—”</p> + +<p>“That woman Rhana?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. She heard of your arrival. Bhool must have been told to get you.”</p> + +<p>I tried to stand on my feet, but I was still shaky.</p> + +<p>“How long have we been here?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. I’ve been sitting here watching you, six or eight hours.”</p> + +<p>“Did you faint, or whatever it was happened to us?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. For how long, I don’t know. I found myself lying here with you. +Then a woman came in, gave me something to drink. She said you’d be all +right—that the stronger person always suffered most from the light. I +imagine she’ll be back—”</p> + +<p>I got on my feet. “We’ll have to get out of here.”</p> + +<p>He acquiesced in that. But quite evidently he had already examined our +cell—it was no less than that; and he seemed not very hopeful. We were +in a stone room some twenty feet square. The rough stone walls had a +gleaming black metallic look to them; the floor was smooth burnished +metal. The low, flat ceiling barely cleared my head by an inch; it was +gray, smooth as polished steel. There was the couch; a metal table, +shaped like a huge cup; and a metal chair.</p> + +<p>Arturo followed me about the room. “Not much chance, Jeff. I’ve been +trying to plan something, but I haven’t yet decided.”</p> + +<p>There were two small orifices in the ceiling. From one came the faint +purple glow of light; its tiny shade was pushed aside; it spread +downward like an electrolier and cast a six-foot circle on the floor. +The other hole seemed to be admitting a current of fresh air. The room +was queerly dank; beads of moisture were sweating on the ceiling.</p> + +<p>There was a small door, convex like the round door to a bank vault. +It had a pane the size of my face; I stood and peered through it—a +substance as transparent as glassite, brittle evidently, and solid +as ancient glass. It seemed fully two feet thick, like a bull’s-eye. +Beyond it there was the dim vision of a vaulted metal corridor.</p> + +<p>The opposite wall, up against the ceiling, held a similar small pane +like a window. It was level with my eyes; I could see a barred grating +beyond the bull’s-eye; and outside that, not the garden as I had hoped, +but seemingly another corridor.</p> + +<p>“No good, Jeff. There’s no chance,” Arturo said.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>I fancied we might wrench a piece of metal from this bed, or table. The +walls were of stone; they crumbled a trifle as I scratched at them with +my nails. They might not be very thick—if we could dig our way out—</p> + +<p>“And find ourselves—where?” Arturo objected. “That isn’t an outer +wall. I tell you there’s no use trying. Give me time; I’m planning +something.”</p> + +<p>“I know it isn’t an outer wall. This woman who brought you the +drink—did she come alone?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. But there were voices just outside the door.”</p> + +<p>“If we could leap on her—make a run for it—”</p> + +<p>“With others in the corridor?”</p> + +<p>“There might not be, next time she comes. Is she armed?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. I guess so.”</p> + +<p>Nor did he know the inner lay-out of the castle, or whether we were at +its top, or bottom. He thought there were two floors.</p> + +<p>“I’ve never been in here before. Tad has, before I came—before we +got this revolution under way. She knows about that, Jeff; it’s open +hostility now. God, we’re prisoners here—she’ll be coming down to see +us. What she’ll do to us eventually! That woman, Jeff—” He shuddered. +“You don’t know—”</p> + +<p>“You’re not very coherent, Arturo. But you’re right enough; it seems to +me I know almost nothing about all this.”</p> + +<p>He was sitting on the bed, chin in hand, staring. I sat down beside him.</p> + +<p>“See here, Arturo—haven’t you taken a little too much on yourself?”</p> + +<p>He seemed suddenly breaking. This pale, slender boy of nineteen was +trembling. He stared at me. “What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“You overrode your father. Easy, lad, I want to talk plainly to you. +You told your father nothing. Nor Polly—nor me. You’ve got me down +here into this—”</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t voluntarily endanger you, Jeff. I didn’t mean—”</p> + +<p>“Don’t be a fool!”</p> + +<p>“I’ve been trying to do my best.”</p> + +<p>“Of course you have. But I’m trying to show you. You take too much on +yourself.”</p> + +<p>He stared at his feet. “I’ve only been doing my best.”</p> + +<p>“I know. But I’m trying now, Arturo, to show you—I’m older than you +are—maybe I’ve got more sense and more judgment than you have—”</p> + +<p>He looked up and smiled. “Of course you have. I haven’t been reticent, +or I don’t want to be—”</p> + +<p>“You haven’t made much effort to take any one into your confidence, +Arturo.”</p> + +<p>“You’re wrong, Jeff. Old Fen, and Tad—they wouldn’t say I’ve tried to +run them, or force my ideas—”</p> + +<p>“I’m talking about myself. And your father and Polly, up there in the +Dolphin when this thing began. We may be in a desperate position now, +Arturo.”</p> + +<p>“We are. This horrible woman—”</p> + +<p>“I know you’re trying to help our world up there, Nereid, and these +Middge people as you call them—you’re not afraid for yourself. But, +Arturo, we may never get out of here alive. The help we could have +given—don’t you see? You may be wrong. I want to start now, if it +isn’t too late. I want a chance to use my own judgment, not yours, +Arturo. Nor Nereid’s, nor Fen’s—nobody’s but my own, understand?”</p> + +<p>The rasp of the cell door opening brought us to our feet. It swung +slowly outward.</p> + +<p>In the corridor stood the woman Rhana.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>She stooped and came quietly in. At the doorway, which remained open, +a gray woman stood guard. Rhana advanced to the center of the cell. +The light from above slanted down on her, and her metal headdress +gleamed—a white banded thing of carved metal. Tiny chains with +flashing jewels hung from it; at her forehead, a metal image, hideous +as a gargoyle, raised its beak—a grotesque bird screaming defiance, a +red gem for its single eye. The thing was so hideous, it gave her face +beneath it a greater beauty.</p> + +<p>She had come in with a barefoot tread; her body, incased in the gray +heart-shaped sheath, was catlike. A giant feline.</p> + +<p>Barbaric creature! But there was a strange aspect of civilized +modernity about her also. Her gray limbs were bare; the chains hung +from her arms. Barbaric. The headdress; the heavy metal anklets, with +pendent gems tinkling on them as she moved. But mingled with the +barbarism was that look of modernity; a narrow black band like soft +velvet encircled her throat; across the back of her shoulders, a black +cloak hung in folds to her waist; a black ribbon around her neck held +what seemed a pair of eyeglasses, with darkened lenses.</p> + +<p>She stood for a moment calmly surveying us as we moved instinctively +away. Her long gray fingers, with a bank of jewels covering the back of +her hand, toyed idly with the hanging eyeglasses.</p> + +<p>She spoke. “So you are the big man from the world of light?” Her gaze +ignored Arturo; it was fastened on me. Calm, dark-eyed gaze. I felt the +power of her then. There is an aura surrounding greatness. It cannot +be mistaken. This woman had it, the aura of genius. An aura of evil, a +fascination—evil but compelling. She gestured calmly. “Come over here. +Stand up—here, near me.”</p> + +<p>I obeyed. I was alert, tense. I stood before her, taller than she by an +inch or two.</p> + +<p>“So? They are right—you stand higher.” Her voice, with the most +perfect use of my language I had heard from any of these people, had a +purring, musing quality. She frowned a little.</p> + +<p>“So? They told me true—you stand higher.”</p> + +<p>“What do you want of me?” It was an effort to hold my voice quietly +level, but I managed it.</p> + +<p>“He speaks, this man, when not directly questioned—”</p> + +<p>This darkling gaze. Not like Nereid’s, these eyes. Black pools, with a +black fire down in them. Her lips curled with a faint irony.</p> + +<p>“You are not then afraid of me?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“So?”</p> + +<p>“Should I be?”</p> + +<p>“He questions—he dares!”</p> + +<p>Her jeweled hands came up. For an instant I thought she would strike +me. But her hands dropped to my shoulders and rested lightly. One of +the chains clanked against me.</p> + +<p>“He questions—he stares at me—he is not afraid, this man. What is +your name?”</p> + +<p>She snapped it out with a rasp, so sudden a change it startled me. I +jerked away from her involuntarily; but with a leap, feline, incredibly +swift, she caught at my shoulders again and twisted me around. I stood +docile.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“He is strong, solid.” Her appraising fingers bit into my shoulders. +She added, calmly, this time:</p> + +<p>“What is it, the name they call you?”</p> + +<p>“Geoffry Grant.”</p> + +<p>She repeated it, memorizing it. “Why is it you come here to my world?”</p> + +<p>I said carefully, “My friends are here. We are going back—up there—”</p> + +<p>It seemed to amuse her. “So? You have your plans? That is wrong—men +should have no plans. Men and children with plans are annoying.”</p> + +<p>A sound from the doorway made her drop my shoulders and swing around. +Bhool came slinking in. He cringed.</p> + +<p>She rasped, “What do you want?”</p> + +<p>He answered her in his own language, but she checked him imperiously. +“We do not talk that here.”</p> + +<p>“He is tall as I said, great Rhana?” He whined ingratiatingly. He cast +a sidelong glance of triumph at me.</p> + +<p>Arturo had been standing back against the wall. He took a sudden step. +“You cowardly little hangar-rat!”</p> + +<p>I whirled. “Hush, Arturo!”</p> + +<p>Bhool, fortified by Rhana’s presence, retorted. “Not so cowardly—I did +capture you.”</p> + +<p>Arturo avoided me; he took another step at Bhool, who retreated. I +shoved Arturo away.</p> + +<p>Rhana exclaimed, “You quarrel? Stop it—” She swished a chain, idly as +though at disobedient quarreling dogs. It caught around Bhool’s legs; +he groveled.</p> + +<p>She said frowningly, “You annoy me, Bhool, to want praise. I gave you +reward. You forget you have duties not done yet.” He slunk through +the doorway at her gesture. She added abruptly, “You are interesting, +Geoffry Grant—I will come again—”</p> + +<p>“I’m hungry,” I said.</p> + +<p>She smiled. “You shall be fed. I would have no man hungry unless he has +done wrong.”</p> + +<p>I added impulsively, “I want to get out of here!” I watched to see how +she would take it.</p> + +<p>She smiled further. “We all want many things. You are interesting. I +will not come again—I will send for you.” Her gaze barely touched +Arturo. She added to me, “He will die here pleasantly enough. We will +leave him when we go.”</p> + +<p>She turned, and stooped for the doorway. The heavy door closed after +her.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“But see here, Arturo, what was it you planned for me, when you sent +for me, brought me down here?”</p> + +<p>“That’s of no use now, I tell you.”</p> + +<p>We were sitting on the couch of our cell after Rhana had left us.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t that for me to judge, Arturo?”</p> + +<p>He was suddenly meek. My words had had effect. “You’re right, Jeff. +What is it you wanted to know?”</p> + +<p>“A good many things. What was I supposed to do with this Rhana?”</p> + +<p>“I thought,” he said, “we could send you to her. Pretend you might help +her with the coming war. And you might capture her, perhaps, or kill +her. Without a leader these women would go to pieces. The Gian men are +worse—you see?”</p> + +<p>“Not exactly,” I said.</p> + +<p>“Well, she would like you. Easy for you to get into her confidence. She +does like you, Jeff; that’s obvious. There’s nobody would dare speak to +her the way you did. It just made her smile—you could handle her.”</p> + +<p>I had my doubts on that. “She said, take me with her—”</p> + +<p>“Her army must be about ready, Jeff. And leave me here to die. Well—”</p> + +<p>“But we’re going to get out of here,” I assured him.</p> + +<p>We had decided that all we could do now was wait quietly for the woman +to come with food, and be on the alert then to see if we might escape.</p> + +<p>We sat for a time, there on the couch. Arturo talked freely. He knew a +great deal of the situation, here, and the geography of this strange +dark realm. He talked swiftly, at first with no comments.</p> + +<p>This main abyss, through which we had flown, was lens-shaped—some +forty or fifty miles between the surfaces at its greatest diameter, and +in length perhaps three hundred miles. He thought that it lay, not as I +had visualized, flat beneath the floor of our Pacific Ocean, but tilted +diagonally edgewise.</p> + +<p>We had entered near its upper end, where it reached within a few miles +of the ocean bed. We had flown down its length. The City of the Mound, +then, must lie two hundred miles or more underground.</p> + +<p>There was, at the upper end, no exit except the system of locks down +which we had come.</p> + +<p>“There’s no escape that way, Jeff. The Gians have a few hundred of +those sub-sea vehicles. A few are large ones—as large as the locks +will take. The locks were built, a generation ago, for this purpose. +The Gians have been planning this thing for that long. Rhana is about +ready now. Her army—and all the Gians—will escape upward that way.”</p> + +<p>“How many of them are there?”</p> + +<p>“Not many. I suppose forty or fifty thousand. They’re all here in the +City of the Mound, and in two other cities across on the other surface. +They’ll be starting soon. But what about the Middge? A million of them, +I imagine. They can’t get through the locks. No vehicles to spare—no +room, no time.”</p> + +<p>From this main lens-shaped abyss, caverns, tunnels and passageways +everywhere opened off, especially at this lower end. It was a vast +honeycomb. Tunnels led to caverns and pits glowing with molten fire. +There were vast passages, black and unexplored; no one could guess +where they led, in this vast honeycomb, the sub-surface shell of our +earth—the porous, thick skin of an orange.</p> + +<p>There was, near the City of the Mound, a passage a mile or two in width.</p> + +<p>It plunged steeply downward. Erroneous term! Who could say, downward, +or upward? It led, within a few hours on foot, to another great abyss. +A black oily sea lay on one of its surfaces. The black space facing +it—floor or ceiling as you will—had never been explored.</p> + +<p>This watery abyss they called the realm of the monsters. No human lived +there. Fearsome monsters of the deep, and flying things, and things +that crawled, were there. Sometimes they would wander through the +tunnel passage out into the abyss here where humans had their cities. +The passage now was always guarded with flood lights. The monsters +feared the light; its faintest glow blinded them; it turned them back. +For generations now none of them had come through.</p> + +<p>I said, “These people seem very advanced with their science, Arturo. +Engineering achievements—why didn’t they wall up this connecting +passage completely? You say it’s only a mile or two wide.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“They doubtless would have,” he said. “But access to the monsters’ +realm is necessary. Centuries ago—how long ago no one now can say—a +downward pressure of water menaced all this realm. Water from up +above—from our Pacific doubtless—must have started breaking through. +The rift was on the other side—that black sea of the monsters’ realm. +This civilization is far older than ours, Jeff. I’m talking now of some +remote past time when we might have been struggling in the Stone Age. +Or before that. A rift came, and water menaced all this honeycombed +region. The ancient people living here then must have been far advanced +in science. And human life was very plentiful and held cheaply.</p> + +<p>“There is a system of dams and locks and watergates out there now, +Jeff. I’ve never seen them, but I’ve heard them described. Like the +dykes and canal gates, and dams of Holland, built gradually over +centuries. It must have been a constant battle down here with the +pressing water. They fought it. Out there now is a gigantic man-made +barrier, with flood-gates, which if the pressure got too great, they +could cautiously open to relieve it. Inconceivable to construct, but +there it is. Like the pyramids, Jeff; patient toiling of millions of +workers for generations. And they had science with them. The gates and +wall must be hundreds of miles long, at the least. The gates are all +controlled by one small mechanism—in a little fortress gate-house +at this end of the dam. They are opened wide now—water is rushing +through—”</p> + +<p>His voice rose. “The Middge can’t close them. The revolution isn’t +ready, the weapons aren’t assembled. We have no weapons ready at +all. Nobody is armed, or trained for fighting. A mob attack on the +gate-house—she’d see it coming, and laugh at it.”</p> + +<p>“But Arturo, there in that other cavern, it must be two hundred miles +beneath our Pacific.”</p> + +<p>He quieted. “I think so. There is some abyss in the ocean floor which +we never have yet discovered. That is it, undoubtedly. And from it some +gigantic, water-filled passage. That passage, leading downward, ending +down here—”</p> + +<p>I tried to grasp the mathematics of it. But there was so little upon +which to base a calculation. Water descending a passage, even hundreds +of miles wide—passing down here through gates equally wide—it might +take years to drain all our oceans. The gates were open full now. I +recalled the newscasters of New York reporting the tides down a fathom +in a day. Ten years, and there would still be water in the Nero Deep. I +tried to estimate this abyss here across which we had flown. Fifty—a +hundred like it might drain our Pacific.</p> + +<p>But this abyss was comparatively small; the realm of the monsters +was far larger. Both of them, for the Pacific Ocean is not much over +two miles in average depth, would drain it. And what other vast +subterranean realms might be down here! Passages a thousand miles in +length. Other caverns, under the Americas—under the Atlantic.</p> + +<p>But it would take years to drain our oceans. A year perhaps, to fill up +the two main caverns here. I said it to Arturo.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Jeff. But the gates and the walls and the dams out there won’t +hold. They’ll break under the full surge of water and the erosion. The +walls of the upper passage, with that torrent flooding down, will break +sidewise—”</p> + +<p>He burst into a half coherent description. The scientists of the Middge +were able to estimate it. This whole region, from here up to the ocean +bed, was honeycombed; and the rock strata themselves comparatively +loose and porous. With the gigantic torrent of swiftly descending +water, rifts would be made. Small, then greater. The whole region would +collapse. And there were molten fire-pits everywhere. The water would +reach them.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>I said, “Last night, Arturo, the gates were opened for a time.”</p> + +<p>“Yes. But only a trifle, at the distant end. The water escaped into +passages across the monsters’ realm. They lead, no one knows where.”</p> + +<p>“Everywhere,” I said. “And that water mingled with the fires of the +earth—you remember, Arturo.”</p> + +<p>He sat up abruptly. “Every volcano was active. Storms, earthquakes—”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I agreed. We had been thinking, Arturo particularly, only of +this subterranean world. But what about the surface? Our own world +up there? Our great nations, our millions of people? My mind went to +little Polly.</p> + +<p>My imagination widened. This rolling globe in space which we call +earth, its teeming millions, its civilization, the gigantic unknown +forces of nature, were being tampered with, so that one set of humans +might bring harm to another. A titanic whirlpool of events, rushing to +overwhelm us.</p> + +<p>And in the midst of it all, Arturo and I sat here in this fortress +cell. Two tiny grains of sand on a vast beach with the ocean pounding. +What could we do about it? Of what use to try? A million minds were +groping with it; our great nations, with all their far-flung resources; +the Middge scientists down here.</p> + +<p>But the human mind individualizes. I saw Polly.</p> + +<p>In all the interwoven, complicated affairs of struggling nations, the +individual always is supreme. Sometimes, just one individual. The +keystone of an arch—you pull it out, and the arch falls. And with the +arch, the whole great edifice comes down to destruction.</p> + +<p>There was this one woman, Rhana. She had opened these gates, to +start these tumbling, cataclysmic events. But might not the gates be +flung closed, now while there was yet time? A single small operating +mechanism—why, one hand, mine perhaps, might close them. And demolish +the mechanism—one hand, mine perhaps, might do it. They would stay +closed then. And with it done—that one vital thing like replacing the +keystone of a crumbling arch—all these far-flung events would cease.</p> + +<p>I leaped to my feet. “Arturo, see here—I’ve got to get to that +gate-house! We must escape from here at once. I think I know how we +might do it!”</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<h3>IN THE DARK CORRIDOR.</h3> + + +<p>“All ready, Arturo?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>I shouted at him: “Stop that!”</p> + +<p>He picked up one of the small metal chairs and flung it at me. I +ducked. The thing was heavy, and crashed against the bed with a violent +clang. I ran at him.</p> + +<p>He whispered, “Easy, Jeff—you’re strong.” We wrestled. I flung him +to the floor of the cell; the table overturned, clanging with metal +against metal like a gong. We lay, listening.</p> + +<p>“Think they’ll hear us?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.” I had previously noticed sounds coming down the ventilator from +above; occasionally the faint blended murmur of voices as though from a +room overhead. “Better keep it up,” I whispered. “They may be able to +see us.”</p> + +<p>We rolled, fighting and shouting. In his zeal Arturo turned me over +and was sitting on me. We presently heard the sound of our cell door +opening; I twisted free, flung him away and leaped to my feet. In the +doorway three gray women stood; Arturo lay writhing.</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/illus4.jpg" alt=""> + <div class="caption"> + <p><i>The cell door opened and several Gian women stood there.</i></p> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<p>“What—you do—what you doing?” One of the women came in. A woman tall, +but shorter than Rhana. She wore a similar shield, and a cloak of +brown. She was jeweled.</p> + +<p>I was panting, but alert. The chance might come any time. This woman +did not seem armed. The two in the doorway stood keenly watching me. +They were all garbed the same; they seemed rather more like high-born +attendants upon Rhana, than guards.</p> + +<p>I said, “He is a fool—I don’t want to be here with him.” My gaze was +contemptuous. The other two women had come into the cell. Out of the +tail of my eyes I surveyed them. Seemingly unarmed. I could make a run +for it. Arturo was alert. Lying groveling, but tense to spring up at my +signal.</p> + +<p>Abruptly I relaxed. Men were in the corridor outside. A group of them. +I could see weapons in their dangling hands.</p> + +<p>“Take me out of here,” I demanded. “He sickens me—he is a fool—I will +kill him if I stay here.”</p> + +<p>The woman deliberated. I fancied I saw admiration for me in her eyes. +She said:</p> + +<p>“You must not fight—bad.”</p> + +<p>As though we were children! Arturo was up on one elbow.</p> + +<p>“I don’t like him—I don’t like this room. Take me to another—” He +gestured overhead. “Up there—this has no air down here—”</p> + +<p>If she would do it! I added, “He can come with me—it is the air +here—I won’t fight—we’re both hungry—”</p> + +<p>The woman rasped out a sudden command. Two men came into the room. +They were about the woman’s height; stocky fellows, with bullet heads +of close-clipped black hair. Guards, evidently, garbed in gleaming +suits of metal cloth, wearing bands about their foreheads with gleaming +jewels. In their hands, and hanging against their chests were weapons; +a curving, knifelike blade; small girds and projectors.</p> + +<p>The woman spoke imperiously to them. She said to me: “We take you—”</p> + +<p>Arturo was on his feet, his eyes searching me.</p> + +<p>“And him?” I demanded.</p> + +<p>“He stay here.”</p> + +<p>Disappointment flooded Arturo; I flashed him a warning glance.</p> + +<p>“But he is hungry,” I pleaded.</p> + +<p>“I send food.”</p> + +<p>One of the men pulled at me, but I pushed him off. “I want him to come +with me—”</p> + +<p>The woman leaped. Her hands went to my shoulders; her dark eyes blazed +at me; unreasoning anger in them—she might have done anything—ordered +me killed without stopping to think of it. “You talk much. Go!”</p> + +<p>With a last look at Arturo, I turned and let them lead me out.</p> + +<p>We followed the dim vaulted corridor. The women went ahead with their +catlike tread. There were two men beside me; others in front and +behind. We passed other vaulted doorways. A turn up a small incline; +over a dark interior bridge of metal. It spanned a black void; +overhead, the vaulted metal roof was within touch of my hand. Into +another larger corridor; this one brighter.</p> + +<p>I was alert trying to remember the turns—I would have to get back here +some way to Arturo. Or persuade Rhana to bring him up.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The interior of the building seemed enormous. We turned other +corners evidently into another wing; ascended another incline. It +was surprisingly long and steep. I realized Arturo’s cell must be +underground. We came to an upper hallway. I saw a room with barred +windows that seemingly opened to the garden. There were lights out +there now. We advanced through a room thronged with Gians, men and +women. They made way for us; the babble of their voices hushed, and +they stared at my towering figure curiously. We crossed the room. A +wide door opened.</p> + +<p>I was in the presence of Rhana. She sat at a table. It was littered +with flexible sheets—metal, perhaps—like paper, with strange writing +upon them. Women sat around her. Men, garbed in vivid clothes of bright +colors, were in the room, most of them standing. A man to whom Rhana +had been speaking, made an obsequious gesture and hastened from the +room. Two other men and a woman came forward to report to her.</p> + +<p>There was an air of hurried activity. That outside room with its +waiting, excited throng; here, in this inner private apartment, Rhana +with her close subordinates, directing the departure. There were broad +windows through which I could see the lighted garden; Gians out there, +moving about with apparatus; a large aërocar was there, being loaded. +Departure for battle. I did not need to be told it was that. It was +plainly to be seen.</p> + +<p>They stood me before Rhana. I met her gaze, with a level frown of my +own. My heart was pounding. These windows were larger, and unbarred. +The ground was no more than twenty feet below. I remembered my vaulting +over the garden palisade. I could leap from one of these windows and +not be hurt. Or, there was a staircase here in the room, leading to the +roof.</p> + +<p>Rhana was saying: “So? You make a disturbance? How do you dare?”</p> + +<p>“I’m hungry. I want to be fed.”</p> + +<p>Some of these men were armed. There were too many here now. If I could +wait here until they went away.</p> + +<p>Rhana looked at the women beside her, as though to see what they +thought of me. She was smiling with faint amusement.</p> + +<p>“You want food—now?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.” I added boldly: “And here. I want it here with you.”</p> + +<p>She said something about me to the other women. They nodded, smiled and +regarded me with a new interest—as though I were a precocious child, +to be admired and tolerated.</p> + +<p>“Here with me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>A man was near me, standing by an empty chair. I shoved him out of the +way, and sat down, as though I were a willful child. But there was +something else in the expressions of these women. I was a man; it was +to them a new masculinity, instinctively to be admired. The Gian man +shrank from my frowning aspect. Rhana said:</p> + +<p>“So? You are very bad—but interesting. You shall be fed here, if you +do not annoy me.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll sit over there.” Another empty chair, much nearer one of the +windows. But these women were not fools. Rhana gestured sharply. Two +armed men—they looked like beribboned popinjays in their bright gaudy +costumes—moved quickly over between me and the window.</p> + +<p>Rhana went back to her work. I sat there perhaps an hour. Food and +drink came to me. I tasted it cautiously. But I was famished, and glad +of the strength it would give me. Strange things—but I ate and drank +with relish.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The activity of the room went on. I could not understand anything that +was said. The garden was active—every appearance of bustling, feverish +haste. The aëro—a gray thing a hundred feet in length—was loaded +and got away. Another, empty, came sailing down to take its place. +Gians were arriving. Men and women; and there were children. Food; +apparatus—all loaded on the arriving and departing aëros. A line of +marching gray men assembled, and were loaded on an aërocar. It left.</p> + +<p>I saw not a single Middge. But down in the city I could hear occasional +cries. Once, a throng of Gian families—carrying children and household +goods—came up from the city escorted by soldiers. There had been a +disturbance a moment before; I imagine a mob of the Middge may have +assailed them. Rhana issued angry commands, and several messengers +dashed away.</p> + +<p>A stream of couriers constantly arrived with what seemed reports from +distant localities. Rhana and the other women consulted over them.</p> + +<p>The room at last began quieting. There was a lull in the garden. I +wondered if my chance had come. But I was constantly being closely +watched. There were three of these popinjays near me now. Each had a +small black weapon in his hand; they never took their eyes off me.</p> + +<p>Rhana at last stood up. Her command cleared the room of its waiting +people. The women at the table went up the steps to the roof and +vanished. I was alone with Rhana, save for my three men guards. They +were still beside me, alert as ever.</p> + +<p>She gestured. “Come over here—sit by me. I am tired now. It will amuse +me to talk with you.”</p> + +<p>The guards moved over with me. I sat by her. She began questioning me +about my world. The size and the extent of the surface up there. She +said nothing of her plans—nor asked me anything personal of myself. +They seemed idle questions; generalities. I told her as well as I +could, things about our civilization. Our mode of life. Things at +random as they occurred to me. But I kept clear of anything which might +be of military value to her.</p> + +<p>She listened with an eager, absorbed interest. Once, when I paused, she +said:</p> + +<p>“You talk always of men. Your men must be very strange. Your friend +they call Tad, spoke of them the same—men like women—”</p> + +<p>I laughed. “Not like women.”</p> + +<p>“I mean, born to command. To leadership, like women.”</p> + +<p>I said: “Ours is a man-made world. But we realize, we men are what our +mothers make us. There are things in life more important to women then +trying to run the world.”</p> + +<p>She raised her heavy eyebrows. “You think so?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Things only women can do. The best of our women think so, too.”</p> + +<p>She said decisively: “It is not so here.” It amused her. “A world run +by men! How absurd it must be!”</p> + +<p>I could read her thoughts. She was going to war against men; she felt +it a very simple thing.</p> + +<p>She added: “You, Geoffry Grant, do not like women born to command?”</p> + +<p>She said it with a smile, but there was an edge under it; a tigress’s +claws lying within the soft paws.</p> + +<p>I parried cautiously: “Did I say that? We have had women who were +queens and empresses. Women who stood alone at the head of nations.”</p> + +<p>“So? And they ruled well?”</p> + +<p>“Some did. Some did not.”</p> + +<p>She purred: “You do not like commanding women—like me?” She was toying +with one of her dangling ornaments. I could have said I liked Nereid +somewhat better, but I did not. I retorted:</p> + +<p>“I am only a man. You embarrass me.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>She seemed annoyed at herself. At her weakness perhaps, for asking a +man’s opinion. She said: “You are a fool. Conceited because you are big +and strong. I will show you—”</p> + +<p>She stood up quietly. “Sit still, Geoffry Grant.” The chains on her +wrists were looped up around her arms to be out of the way. She began +unfastening them.</p> + +<p>I think it was her intention to flog me. I had been all this time +surreptitiously watching my three guards. If I could get one of them +near me—snatch his weapon. Or by a sudden rush knock them down—</p> + +<p>Rhana unloosed the chains. “I will show you!” Her eyes were abruptly +blazing with anger at me. A sound behind made her look around. A man +blundered into the room through the farther doorway. He had seemingly +come in not realizing where he was. A Gian from another city perhaps. +Her anger turned on him. She leaped at him. My guards rushed for me; +one stood with a weapon pressed against me. I remained docile.</p> + +<p>The Gian man groveled as the chain struck him. She lashed; and with +his cries of pain her rage burst into a fury ungovernable. He lay +insensible and bleeding when she had finished. Other men appeared. They +carried him away. She wound the chains around her sleek gray arms; came +back to me. She was breathing hard, but the fire had gone from her +eyes. Her voice was perfectly composed.</p> + +<p>“A stupid man, Geoffry Grant, to come in here like that. He will not do +it again.”</p> + +<p>“No,” I murmured. “Doubtless not.”</p> + +<p>My guards had relaxed. They were standing away, but still within +reach of me if I leaped. I was tense. Rhana sat down. She began to +talk. I scarcely heard her. I was planning how to fight my way out of +here. My thoughts ran swiftly, no more than half coherent. Down to +Arturo—fighting my way. But that was impossible. I would be caught and +killed. But the flood-gates, off there in that distant cavern, must +be closed. That was my purpose. Far above my own life, or Arturo’s. I +could get out of here perhaps, with a rush for one of those windows.</p> + +<p>I was answering Rhana mechanically. I would have to leave Arturo, but I +could come back for him. These Gians would depart and leave him there +to die. Tad and I would come back and release him.</p> + +<p>Thoughts are swift-flying things. They flooded me; yet it was all but a +moment. Tad. It seemed abruptly that something asked me, “<i>Where is +Arturo?</i>”</p> + +<p>My own thought? No, it was not that. Something else—Tad, or Nereid. +I felt the presence of them both, their thoughts, something of them +here—imploring me, “<i>Where is Arturo?</i>”</p> + +<p>I had felt like this, that night in New York. I stirred restlessly in +my chair.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I said to Rhana. “I think so.” What had she asked me? I could +not remember. I was recalling the route I had taken up from Arturo’s +underground cell. And something replied, soundlessly in my mind, +“<i>Oh, yes, I know.</i>”</p> + +<p>Like a thought from Tad, or Nereid. But now it was more than that. +Something of them tangibly here. Rhana felt it. She, too, moved +uneasily in her chair.</p> + +<p>She abruptly stopped what she was saying to me. And added tensely: “You +feel it? What is it?”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>There was almost fear in her voice—the fear of the gruesome, the +uncanny, the unknown. Her hand moved along the table edge. The +illumination of the room abruptly vanished; darkness enshrouded us. +I could see nothing. Then, just the outlines of the windows with the +lights of the garden behind them. In the silence I thought I could +hear Rhana’s breathing. I could sense her near me; and the guards. +Make a run for it now! But I could barely see in this darkness; and I +remembered that these Gians could see comfortably.</p> + +<p>The three guards and Rhana? But there was something else here. +Something not to be seen, scarce to be felt. The presence of something. +It drove from my mind all thought of escape. I sat stiff, straining my +vision in the darkness.</p> + +<p>Something here, moving soundlessly. Something touched me! Brushed me +gently. I shrank; my chair slid on the metallic floor with a grind. One +of my guards, even now alert, moved over and held me firmly. Rhana’s +voice said softly:</p> + +<p>“Did you see anything? Something is here. No, it is gone.”</p> + +<p>She illumined the room. It was so soft a light it did not bother my +eyes, even after the blank darkness. But I realized that for a moment +now it might dazzle the sensitive eyes of Rhana and these three men. +Her hand was shading her face. The man holding me had an arm against +his eyes. My chance had come. I stood up suddenly; knocked his weapon +from his hand, and my other fist caught him in the face. He fell +without a cry at my feet.</p> + +<p>Rhana shouted. I whirled away from her; launched myself at the other +two men who stood blinking in confusion. My body struck them full. +Under my weight they went down. One of their weapons was discharged—a +soundless stab of radiance. It missed me.</p> + +<p>In my rush I stumbled over one of the falling men. I went down with +him. He was far smaller, lighter than I, and his body seemed queerly, +unnaturally fragile. My fist cracked against his shoulder; broke it. +I caught his wrist. Gruesomely it snapped with my twist. I held his +weapon when I rose, a small, heavy thing of metal. But I did not know +how to fire it. I thrust it under the shirt of my suit.</p> + +<p>Rhana stood by the table; she made no move. The third man whom I had +flung down was up on one elbow. I saw his leveled weapon and leaped +aside. He was evidently hurt. He twisted around, but before he could +aim again, I seized a heavy metal chair and hurled it. He lay still, +with the chair partly on him.</p> + +<p>The way was open. I ran for the nearest window. A black metal grating +slid up in it; barring it. I turned away; ran for another. I was +confused now. Like an animal, caged, rushing one way and another and +finding always bars. The uproar was bringing people to the room. Men +and women were running in.</p> + +<p>I dashed at another window. But the bars came up before I got there. +And another. Two men and a woman were in my way. I scattered them. Some +one fired at me. I felt the tingle of the flash, but it missed.</p> + +<p>From the table Rhana was working a mechanism controlling the bars. The +windows were all closed now; a grating closed the roof doorway at the +head of the stairs. People were up there vainly trying to get in.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The place was in confusion. Shouts everywhere. They had spread to the +garden; a gathering throng out there.</p> + +<p>It was all a confusion of impressions to me. I made a dash at Rhana; +decided against it; turned and ran the other way. There seemed perhaps +twenty people in the room. Every instant I expected to be hit by that +stabbing flash. The main doorway was still open, and men were coming +in. I rushed at them and they scattered. There was another flash, which +stung my shoulder. A woman was leaping at me, swishing a chain; the +shot caught her and she went down. There was no more firing after that.</p> + +<p>In the doorway I was engulfed by half a dozen men who rushed me +at Rhana’s vehement command. I went through them; waded, kicking, +twisting, heaving them off, flinging them bodily away.</p> + +<p>I found myself in the entry room. The people in it scattered before me. +There were several flashes, but I was untouched. I went through the +room with a rush to find myself in a dark corridor. There was pursuit +behind me; I could hear the shouts. I ducked into a long, empty, dim +room, and went down its length at a full run. All its windows were +barred. One of the gratings slid up as I got there.</p> + +<p>Rhana was back at her table, I knew, barring every exit of the castle. +I ran on, through doorways, always dark corridors—an endless maze. I +was wholly lost. Occasionally I encountered a Gian, but none could stop +me.</p> + +<p>I found myself going down an incline; over a bridge up near a vaulted +ceiling. It was familiar. I stopped; panting for breath I stood in the +blackness clinging to the rail. An abyss was below me. I had shaken +off my followers. I was alone here. In the silence I heard what seemed +murmuring water far under me.</p> + +<p>Familiar. I had crossed this interior bridge, or one very like it, on +the way up from Arturo’s cell. I thought I could find my way back there +now.</p> + +<p>With recovered breath I started. Cautiously—now that I had escaped +pursuit, I wanted to avoid any one again finding me. Get down to +Arturo; if I could open his door from the corridor side, together we +would find some way out of this place.</p> + +<p>I moved along. Over the bridge. It was darker here now than when I had +been brought up. I felt my way along the stone passage.</p> + +<p>I rounded a corner. There was a small dim light. The passage was empty; +but I ran squarely into something solid—something invisible. It +gripped me.</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<h3>THE FIRE CALDRON.</h3> + + +<p>Tad stood in the garden of the castle, with Nereid and her father. +Rhana was on the parapet, talking to the Middge crowd. Tad did not miss +Arturo and me; he assumed we were close behind him. His attention was +on Rhana. He knew her perhaps better than did any of us. When first he +had been brought here, with a vague memory that the freighter on which +he had been traveling was sinking, Rhana had taken him to the castle. +He had lived there for a time, and had taught her much that she knew of +our language.</p> + +<p>He listened now to her, but of her language he still understood only +occasional phrases. Entt joined him.</p> + +<p>“She says the Middge need not fear. She will show them a way of escape +from here. Or they can stay—”</p> + +<p>“How can they stay?” Tad whispered. “Those flood-gates will break in a +week or two at most.”</p> + +<p>“She says, no danger. Or, if they care to go, a passage upward.”</p> + +<p>“There isn’t any. Or if there is, Entt, the Middge can’t find it.”</p> + +<p>“It must be found,” said Nereid. “Not where she says—we cannot trust +her. We Middge must find it ourselves.”</p> + +<p>For a long time now the Middge had been secretly sending out exploring +parties, but so far without success.</p> + +<p>Fen interrupted impatiently: “We listen to her, not talk.” Rhana’s +speech went on. Then she stopped. At her final command the mob began +dispersing. Soon the garden was nearly empty.</p> + +<p>Bhool stood behind Tad. “Masters, we go?”</p> + +<p>Nereid had just suggested it. “My father, should we not go home? There +will be messengers there for you by now. You remember? We must go to +the meeting in the Caldron.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you say right, child. There will be attack upon the gates. We +must try to get them closed.”</p> + +<p>Bhool insisted: “We go now, Masters. I go with you.”</p> + +<p>It was then they missed Arturo and me. Nereid said: “Arturo, we will +start now—”</p> + +<p>But he was not behind her. Tad saw her look around; saw her run a few +feet, gaze and then run back. He saw her face. It went suddenly blank. +And then fear sprang to it. She gave a timid little cry: “Arturo!” She +stood trembling and stricken.</p> + +<p>She knew then, or guessed, I am sure. She stood, with trembling intense +thoughts trying to reach us. But could not.</p> + +<p>They searched around the garden. They did not see the dark arch in +the wall into which we had been drawn; Tad thinks it was closed up, +presenting only stones.</p> + +<p>Bhool searched with them. He whined, “Masters, this is dangerous. If +she sees us here, punishment with the chains.”</p> + +<p>They decided we must have been separated from them, unable to find them +in the departing crowd. We would go home; they would find us there +waiting.</p> + +<p>But we were not there. Instead were three Middge couriers. They had +been there some time. Fen listened to them. His old face brightened.</p> + +<p>“Good news,” said Entt. “A passage upward has been found. At the +Caldron the meeting is called now. The weapons are not ready, but an +attack will be made.”</p> + +<p>“On the gate-house?” Tad demanded.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>Bhool was eagerly listening to what was being said. Tad shoved him out +of the way.</p> + +<p>“Fen, are you going to this meeting?” Tad asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes. Now.” He added in his own language: “Bhool, get ready the +<i>arras</i>. We will ride.”</p> + +<p>Bhool left reluctantly. But Nereid did not want to go. We might come +back here—she wanted to be here. But they would not let her stay.</p> + +<p>Tad left us a note. They would be back in a few hours—three or four +at most. Tad was worried over us. But he tried to persuade himself +that in a little while we would be in. The note did not say where they +had gone, some Gian might come upon it who could read it. He ended in +his whimsical fashion: “Go to sleep—it will do you good for what is +coming.”</p> + +<p>Nereid had said nothing. She sat in a shadowed corner. Her face was +solemn, fear-stricken. She sat thinking—calling intensely to us. We +were both unconscious at this time. She thought once she had reached +Arturo. She leaped to her feet; sank back. “No, it is nothing! He is +gone.”</p> + +<p>Bhool arrived at the street doorway with the <i>arras</i>. Sleek black +animals, large as a horse, with long narrow faces and bulging eyes. +They moved with a panther tread, soundless on padded feet.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The couriers were already gone. Bhool said: “I will carry her.” He +indicated Nereid.</p> + +<p>“You ride with me,” Tad declared, “if you go at all. I don’t see why +you should.”</p> + +<p>But the fellow seemed too frightened to stay in the house. Nereid +mounted behind her father. Entt rode alone. Tad put Bhool in front of +him on the broad saddle.</p> + +<p>Like giant leopards the three arras loped off down the narrow street. +They reached the open country, where the road was a waving gray ribbon +over the rocks. Occasionally they were challenged by Middge guards. +Then on again.</p> + +<p>A ride infernal. The glare grew. The air was steadily hotter, as +a sulphurous quality came to it. Down, as though into a legendary +inferno. The passage broadened. Its walls spread; its rocky, shaggy +ceiling lifted until Tad no longer could see it.</p> + +<p>Bhool whimpered: “I do not like it here.” But Tad did not answer. If +Tad had only known what was in that fellow’s mind!</p> + +<p>Ahead, the red glare now was solid. The passage was gone. They ascended +a gentle rising slope, came to the brink of a crest and stopped.</p> + +<p>The caldron of fire lay before them.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Tad had never been here before. He gazed, awe-struck. He was on the lip +of a huge circular caldron which lay perhaps a thousand feet beneath +this upper rim. A round, shallow bowl. The ceiling over it was too high +to be visible; behind the rim, rocky walls rose up into the black void.</p> + +<p>The whole area was a dull glare of red; but soon Tad’s eyes grew +accustomed to it, and he refused the glasses which Entt proffered. This +upper lip of the bowl was bent in a huge circle; it stretched in both +directions as far as Tad could see—a small segment of the whole—a +caldron here a hundred miles across, at least.</p> + +<p>There were boiling pits of red molten fire down there. One was quite +close—a mile or so away. It boiled sluggishly, a viscous mass in +a giant pot. Its surface bubbled; moved and crawled. Red, with a +purple-green sheen on it.</p> + +<p>A hundred such pits showed; the distance merged them into a solid red +glare.</p> + +<p>Far off, there seemed a lake of fire; a cloud of black gas hung over +it; rolled slowly upward, and away.</p> + +<p>The nearer jagged rocks here on the rim were painted with the lurid +red. It hung like a mist everywhere—a monstrous red shadow of it +slanted up into the void overhead. The heavy choking smell of sulphur +was in the air; a black coil of smoke was drifting up from one side, +slanting off on an air-current, a suction toward the further distance.</p> + +<p>A scene infernal. Slumbering forces. Restless. Stirring. Nature +infernal, here in leash. A slumbering giant down here, breathing +uneasily.</p> + +<p>And when, throwing off his bonds, the giant rose? Honeycomb passages, +breaking upward with his lungs! His surging breath—we at the surface +then would call this a volcano. Or if, still far underground, the +porous rock strata broke sidewise; shivered, trembled and broke—an +earthquake then, to dash a tidal wave against our coasts, to engulf our +islands—or with a trembling, quaking earth-surface, to bring down our +cities in ruins.</p> + +<p>This slumbering giant!</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<h3>UNMASKING THE TRAITOR.</h3> + + +<p>As Tad listened, standing on the caldron’s rim, he heard yet another +sound, unnatural and fearsome. It seemed to come through a rift in +the side wall here—a cañon rift slashed like a huge black gash. A +sound very far away, but gigantic; a dim, monstrous surge—the roar of +tumbling water! He turned.</p> + +<p>“Entt, what is that?”</p> + +<p>Nereid answered him. “The water coming through the flood-gates.”</p> + +<p>Ah, and when, backed up with its pressure, or breaking through the +walls, it reached here?</p> + +<p>There was human activity here—sights and sound and movement. On the +broad, nearer slope from this upper rim to the red level where the fire +began, stone buildings were set in terraces. It was the main industrial +village of the Middge. Great pipes led up, bringing the heat for power, +to the factories, not active now. They stood with windows dark, their +outlines edged with red.</p> + +<p>But there was one large building, a mile away, with rows of lights. +Figures moved about it, and the open rocky plateau beside it was busy +with human activity.</p> + +<p>This was the Middge scientific workshop. Nereid pointed it out. It was +the laboratory and arsenal where the Middge were now assembling their +equipment of war.</p> + +<p>There was a broad, mile-long ledge, near at hand on the downward slope. +It was thronged with Middge; several hundred young men seated in +orderly array, and nearly as many young girls, like Nereid, of flowing +robes and tawny hair. The pick of the youth of the Middge were here, +small, slender, white-skinned, come here to be told what to do. There +were older men moving around among them.</p> + +<p>Tad was drawn away. Middge leaders came up to greet Fen—small men +of middle age, alert, solemn. The party went down the slope, mingled +with the crowd on the ledge. The <i>arras</i> were left at the summit, +half-blinded by the glare, chained to the rocks.</p> + +<p>Tad was there barely an hour. With inactivity came thoughts of Arturo +and me. He was increasingly worried—anxious to return. He sat +with Nereid. She, too, was frightened over us. She still could not +communicate with Arturo.</p> + +<p>The Middge meeting proceeded. Fen took no part in it, but Tad noticed +that many of the leaders conferred with him frequently. There were +speeches made to the assembled youth. Plans were told, immediately to +be put into execution.</p> + +<p>The plans of men! How easy to make them, earnestly looking ahead to +their fulfillment! How easy to look back, too late, and see the causes +of their frustration!</p> + +<p>There was one cause, here at Tad’s elbow—Bhool, eagerly listening. +Even then, it seemed to Tad strange that Bhool, a Gian, should be here. +The Gians were never curious over the Middge industrial activity. No +Gian ever came here. They bought or confiscated the Middge products, +content to have them, incurious of their manufacture. Apathetic, +ineffectual were the Gian men; and the ruling Gian women were +unconcerned over industrial details. But Bhool now was admitted—Fen’s +personal servant, nothing was thought of him.</p> + +<p>Plans. There was, in all the chaos, some good news. The exploring party +had returned. It had found a new tunnel-passage and followed it for +nearly three hundred miles, coming at last to rushing water in a chasm, +barring the way. But the scientists in the party had estimated their +position: above the floor of the ocean—within what we call a submerged +mountain, perhaps. This subterranean river would recede. It was of +different quality from ocean water. Its volume lessened while for a day +they waited. With the ocean draining, this river would empty. A way of +escape for the Middge people was here.</p> + +<p>A hundred couriers were now dispatched everywhere throughout the abyss. +Most of them were these active young girls, more expert riders of the +<i>arras</i> than were the men. The Middge people, nearly a million of +them, would be started presently, most of them on foot. A march of a +few hundred miles—a migration upward to safety.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The leaders needed Entt at once. He was to go to the tunnel +entrance—two hours’ ride from here on his <i>arras</i>. He would stay +there for a time, helping to erect the light-beacons which were to +guide the Middge people in finding the entrance. He did not want to go; +he had hoped to stay with Nereid. He faced her, pathetically. At her +gentle smile he turned away, spoke to Tad, and left. A bustling group +of Middge leaders swallowed him up.</p> + +<p>Within a few days, it was believed, all the Middge public would have +departed. But the gates might break at any time. An attack now was to +be made upon them. It was hoped that perhaps the departing Gians had +already abandoned them.</p> + +<p>There were weapons for a small army here in the Middge arsenal, but +almost none were ready; all unassembled as yet, for this thing Rhana +had done had come too unexpectedly. The weapons—all this equipment for +war against the Gians—would be taken up through the passage, to be +assembled later. Unless the gates could be closed now, this realm down +here was doomed. The Middge would have to cast their lot above—</p> + +<p>“But they may get the gates closed,” Tad exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“Then,” said Nereid, “the people will be turned back. We like it +here—you know that, Tad. Each to his own portion. The Creator intended +it.”</p> + +<p>Some of the weapons were brought up for Fen’s inspection. There was one +device which strangely interested Tad. Equipment complete now, for four +people. He gazed at it, listened to Nereid as she translated what the +scientists were telling Fen about it.</p> + +<p>Tad said suddenly, “Nereid, I want those. Can they spare them?”</p> + +<p>“What for, Tad?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know.” He did not. It may have been a premonition, dawning, +unformed plans in his mind. But he knew he wanted this equipment—more +eagerly than he had ever wanted anything before.</p> + +<p>Nereid told her father. There was much discussion. The other men came +over; Tad pleaded earnestly.</p> + +<p>He got the equipment. He sat beside it, puzzling, wondering what had +prompted him to demand it. Bhool had gone a short distance away to +another part of the ledge to see what was going on there. He came back. +Tad concealed his possessions; he made Nereid sit with her robe over +them. He roughly, angrily ordered Bhool to keep away. That, too, was a +premonition.</p> + +<p>It seemed to the impatient Tad an endless time before they were ready +to start back. But it came at last. The Middge expedition was starting +now for the flood-gates.</p> + +<p>The ride back also seemed endless. Bhool was put with Fen; Nereid and +Tad, still with the equipment concealed, rode together.</p> + +<p>The open void of the main abyss held a confusion of activity now. The +roads were crowded with Middge—the beginning of the retreat. Every +house showed lights and hurried, panic-stricken movement. Overhead, an +occasional huge aëro of Gians would pass, flying for the City of the +Mound.</p> + +<p>Tad was hoping that we would be at Fen’s house. But we were not. The +note was there, untouched. Tad went to his room, and hid the equipment. +Bhool prepared food. Nereid was still trying to communicate with us. +At this time, probably, I was still unconscious, and she could not +reach Arturo with her thoughts. It may have been that his mind was too +absorbed with our plight—I cannot say.</p> + +<p>Fen had no plan to find us. But he said once, “They may be in the +Castle—if it is success—the gate attack—I will have young men try +to get in there—”</p> + +<p>Tad recalls that from the adjoining room where Bhool was working a +clang sounded as he dropped a metal platter.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>They ate a brief meal. They were all exhausted. They would sleep for a +few hours. Messengers would come to report the fate of the gate-house +attack. If it failed, then Nereid would get together a few belongings. +They would leave for the tunnel, join Entt and start upward, with +hundreds of thousands of others, fleeing this doomed realm.</p> + +<p>Nereid had other plans. She did not know just what, but she knew she +would not leave Arturo. But she said nothing, nor did Tad. He was still +puzzling, groping with half-formed ideas.</p> + +<p>The house quieted. Tad was alone in his room. He lay down, trying to +plan. It was coming to him. It was feasible. With this equipment he +could get into the Castle. But how could he find us? How know even that +we were there at all?</p> + +<p>He would need Nereid. Let her sleep now for a few hours. And he needed +the rest himself. He did not intend to sleep, but he drifted off, still +vaguely planning.</p> + +<p>Tad awakened suddenly, wide awake at once, with his mind clear. And +like an inspiration he had the answer; as though in his sleep it had +come to him, waking him up. That accursed Bhool! Tad saw it all now, +clearly; the wonder of it was that he had not seen it before. Bhool +in the garden—he had stayed always by me, edged me along. Rhana +would want to see me; Bhool had displayed a great interest in me. Tad +recalled a dozen suspicious things in Bhool’s actions. And in the +garden, when we had disappeared, Tad remembered now that Bhool was for +a few moments missing also. And the fellow dropped a platter when he +heard Fen say that we were probably in the Castle. Tad had gone into +the kitchen and found Bhool in confusion.</p> + +<p>It came like an inspiration. Bhool knew where we were. Well, if he did, +Tad now proposed to get it out of him.</p> + +<p>Tad crept from his room. The house was silent; Nereid and Fen were +asleep. He went to Bhool’s room. It was empty. But in a moment there +was a step. Bhool came along the passage from the street door. He had +in reality just been to the Castle, finding his opportunity now with +the household asleep. He had seen us in our cell. Had told Rhana of the +coming attack by the Middge on the gate-house; and she had sent him +back to get further information.</p> + +<p>Tad saw him coming along the passage, smirking to himself, satisfied +with his accomplishment. No craven, cringing air about him when he was +alone! That was a pose. But Tad leaped out upon him; jerked him roughly +into the room. The cringing came to him; but it was not a pose this +time—he was frightened, gray-white of face, chattering.</p> + +<p>“M-master—what is it?”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Tad twisted him. “What became of Arturo and the big man, his friend?”</p> + +<p>“M-master—”</p> + +<p>“Tell me, you damned hangar-rat.”</p> + +<p>“Master—I don’t know—what you talk—” He chattered off into his own +language.</p> + +<p>“Stop that! Talk English! Stand up here. I’m not hurting you!”</p> + +<p>But Bhool’s knees gave away. He groveled at Tad’s feet.</p> + +<p>“I want to know what you did with them. Where are they?”</p> + +<p>“Them? Who?”</p> + +<p>Tad shook him.</p> + +<p>“M-master, you hurt—”</p> + +<p>“Do I? Where are they? Where is Arturo?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know.” He took the cuff of Tad’s hand on his face, cringing, +but he mumbled, “I cannot tell—I know nothing—”</p> + +<p>It was possible he did not, but Tad wasn’t taking any chances.</p> + +<p>“M-master! Oh, master—you hurt—”</p> + +<p>“Stop your screaming! If you wake any one up I’ll kill you! Talk!”</p> + +<p>It was exasperating.</p> + +<p>“M-master—my wrist—it will break—”</p> + +<p>Tad eased his twisting. “Will you talk?”</p> + +<p>“N-no—oh, master!”</p> + +<p>It brought Tad a sense of physical nausea, the fellow was so helpless, +fragile—his wrist would crack. But Tad gritted his teeth and twisted.</p> + +<p>“Tell me, damn you!”</p> + +<p>“Master! Stop—” He screamed, “I’ll tell you! Oh—stop!”</p> + +<p>Tad relaxed. And Bhool told; with a burst, half incoherent he told it +all.</p> + +<p>“But if she knows. Master, if she knows, she will kill me!”</p> + +<p>“I don’t care what she does to you.” Tad straightened, triumphant. That +cell in which we were imprisoned—he could locate it. He had lived in +the Castle, and knew its interior well.</p> + +<p>“Stand up, you!” He jerked Bhool to his feet, dragged him out, then +woke up Fen and Nereid, and told them.</p> + +<p>“Here, you take him.”</p> + +<p>Fen was still confused. “But, Tad—tell me more of this. What did he—”</p> + +<p>Tad told them it all. “Cursed traitor! By the code, he’s done enough +damage.”</p> + +<p>They barred him in a small windowless room. Tad explained his purpose. +“Will you try it, Nereid?”</p> + +<p>“Oh—” She was speechless with her eagerness.</p> + +<p>They left Fen to guard Bhool. “We can do it in an hour,” said Tad. +“We’ll be back, with Jeff and Arturo!”</p> + +<p>They went to Tad’s room. Both of them trembling with the haste and +excitement of it, they got out the equipment they had brought from the +fire caldron. Within ten minutes they slipped like shadows from the +house.</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<h3>PROWLING SHADOWS.</h3> + + +<p>Tad and Nereid had found the apparatus easy to adjust. They tested it +before they left Tad’s room; it seemed to work perfectly. It consisted +of a long robe of fabric, light as gossamer, dull, dead black. There +were four of these robes. Nereid took the smallest. It enveloped her +from head to foot; it swept the ground; its sleeves ended in black +gloves; its hood covered her head. There was a mask-like flap for her +face; small, transparent black panes for eyes; a clip against her +nostrils to hold a breathing valve in place.</p> + +<p>“All right, Nereid?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>Around her waist Tad adjusted a narrow black belt. It was a rope of +interlaced, tiny black wires. A black curved box like a battery was +fastened to the belt. Light in weight—all dead black. There were a +dozen dangling black wires. Tad connected them at her shoulders, along +her arms to the waist, down to the hem of the robe, and up to the +crest of the hood. She stood, in the dim light of Tad’s room, a black +grotesque blob of shape against the wall. Fantastic, hooded little +figure merging with the shadows. But she was plainly to be seen—the +outlines of her, blotting out the table and the wall behind her. An +inky silhouette.</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/illus5.jpg" alt=""> + <div class="caption"> + <p><i>The fantastic hooded figure began merging with the shadows.</i></p> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<p>She said: “I’ll turn it on.” Her gloved hand fumbled with the battery. +The current went into the robe. It glowed luminous for a moment. The +shape of her was there, shimmering like a silver ghost. Misty—a fog +dissolving—gone! The table and the wall behind her showed clearly; +there was nothing to be seen in front of them.</p> + +<p>It was uncanny. Tad said sharply: “Nereid, you all right?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Tad.”</p> + +<p>Her voice, calm, from the empty air. Tad reached out his hand and, +fumbling, came upon her. The robe was vaguely vibrating.</p> + +<p>“It works, Nereid! I can’t see you! Stand back, close against the wall.”</p> + +<p>He could faintly make out the distorted blur of her shape as she backed +nearer the table and wall; the table outlines were distorted; the wall +seemed to have a shadow on it.</p> + +<p>“That’s too close, Nereid. We must remember that—keep away from +things.”</p> + +<p>There is one of these robes now in the Anglo-American Museum of +Science, in London. Apparently it cannot be duplicated. But the +fundamental principle of its operation is simple. The electrification +of the fabric—vibrations of an unknown current akin to what we call +electricity—set up in the air surrounding the robe, a magnetic field. +As Nereid stood in the center of Tad’s room, the light rays from the +table and wall behind her were bent around this magnetic field so that +their image was carried unbroken to Tad’s sight. It was only when she +stood too close to the wall that its light rays were blocked by the +solidity of her.</p> + +<p>The robe itself reflected no light rays. The color we call black is no +color at all, but merely the absence of all colors—black, because it +absorbs almost all the color-bearing light rays which strike it. There +is, however, generally a glint, high lights and shadows. But this robe, +with the current into it, reflected no light rays, no tiny glint from +its folds.</p> + +<p>And with these two principles, for practical purposes it was invisible. +Nothing really eerie or uncanny. Solid science, strange but rational. +The bending of light rays for a century has been observed and +understood by our astronomers. Our sun itself has a similar magnetic +field about it, bending the light rays from the distant stars which in +reality are behind the sun, but seem to be off to one side.</p> + +<p>Tad was triumphant. Nereid helped him adjust his robe. He carried under +it two others—for Arturo and me—carefully folded and tied around his +body.</p> + +<p>Nereid was a little doubtful and cautious. “We must remember what they +told my father—in the real darkness we Middge, and the Gians, are +keener of vision for very close objects.”</p> + +<p>They were both standing with the current turned on. Nereid put out a +tentative hand. “Even in this light I can—I almost think I see you, +Tad.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>They started from the house, invisible shadows, walking quietly, hand +in hand not to lose each other. The streets were in a confusion of +excitement. Middge couriers had aroused the people to the necessity of +leaving. The houses showed bustling, frantic activity. Middge families, +with household treasures piled on their <i>arras</i>, were starting for +the open country. The beginning of the flight. Men, women and children, +with impedimenta that very soon would be discarded, plodding away. +A long line of them, assembled in an open, parklike space, started +marching off. There was another street, up which a line of Gians was +headed for the fortress garden. The Middge avoided them. The Gians, +intent upon their own activities, took no notice of any one.</p> + +<p>Through it all Tad and Nereid moved unseen. There was no danger, save +for a chance collision. They came to the garden. The lower windows +of the Castle were barred; the upper ones were open. The garden was +bustling with activity. A huge aërocar was being loaded.</p> + +<p>Tad whispered: “The main door is open. That’s the best way in.”</p> + +<p>Gians were passing in and out. Tad and Nereid cautiously mounted the +steps. They kept near the edge. At the top a man suddenly came out; he +nearly ran into them. Tad pulled Nereid hastily aside; they stood at +the doorway, pressed against the wall. Tad clung to her; he could not +see his outstretched arm; nor her. He whispered:</p> + +<p>“Careful, Nereid; he nearly hit us.”</p> + +<p>In the doorway a group of Gian women were talking. One of them looked +squarely at Tad. His heart leaped; but she idly looked away.</p> + +<p>Nereid whispered: “Wait just a moment—I can hear them—”</p> + +<p>They were talking of the Middge attack upon the gate-house. Gians had +been sent to repulse it. That accursed Bhool!</p> + +<p>One of the women spoke softly to her companions; abruptly they were all +looking toward Tad and Nereid. Too close to the wall! He realized it. +The women saw something—puzzling shadows.</p> + +<p>“Nereid! Move!”</p> + +<p>They moved soundlessly into the doorway. The women went on talking. +Clinging together, the two slipped past.</p> + +<p>They were in the Castle. A dim entryway. It was thronged with people. +Nereid was frightened. It was difficult to avoid being run into—and to +avoid getting too near anything.</p> + +<p>“This way,” Tad whispered. He drew her toward a side corridor. In a few +minutes they would reach our cell.</p> + +<p>Abruptly Nereid stopped.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” he whispered.</p> + +<p>“Wait! Listen—”</p> + +<p>He heard nothing but the babble of Gian voices. But Nereid’s hearing +was keener.</p> + +<p>“Jeff,” she whispered. “I hear his voice.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>She led Tad across the room; they threaded their way, infinitely +dangerous. They came to a broad doorway, its door ajar. They did not +dare open it. They waited, crouching aside from the passing people. The +door opened presently; a woman looked in for a moment.</p> + +<p>“Nereid—now!”</p> + +<p>They slid through the doorway. Tad saw me sitting beside Rhana, with +three men guards standing over me!</p> + +<p>There was no one else in the room. Tad and Nereid found a place to +crouch. They listened to our talk, waited, hoping to find a way to get +at me and help me escape. A sudden rush at these guards—</p> + +<p>Tad had brought Nereid because if blank darkness were encountered in +the Castle corridors underground, Nereid would be able to guide him. +He was sorry now that he had brought her. Had he been alone—a leap on +these guards; he and I fighting our way out—</p> + +<p>But Arturo? Where was Arturo, since I was not in the cell, but up here?</p> + +<p>Nereid, crouching silently, reached me with her thoughts, but she must +have reached Rhana also. Nereid, intently thinking, had crept forward +close to the table; Tad still clung to her. Rhana suddenly put out the +lights. Tad was confused. He decided to make a sudden rush for me. He +even brushed me with his robe, but Nereid pulled him away. Her mind, +her whole heart now, instinctively was for Arturo.</p> + +<p>And Tad agreed it was better. My thoughts had given Nereid the +information she sought.</p> + +<p>She and Tad moved swiftly for the door. It was partly open now; they +slid through. They would get Arturo and come back for me.</p> + +<p>In the dark corridors they moved more freely. They crossed the bridge, +went down the incline, came to Arturo’s cell. The route was what my +thoughts of it had given them, for this was not the cell Bhool had +described. Even in that he had lied to Tad.</p> + +<p>The cell door could be opened from the corridor side. They found +Arturo, and robed him like themselves.</p> + +<p>They were ready. Nereid stood listening. From overhead came muffled +sounds, cries, running feet.</p> + +<p>They left the cell and crept back along the corridor. Tad was leading. +At a sharp corner he ran full into me!</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<h3>NEREID’S STRATEGY.</h3> + + +<p>Four of us now, shadowed prowlers. It had taken them only a moment to +get me into the robe and adjust its connections. Strange experience! +I felt the tiny vibrations of the robe; it tingled my flesh. Through +the dark panes of the goggles I could barely see the outlines of the +dim corridor; but in a moment they seemed clearer. Empty corridor! It +was so strange to hear the voices of others beside me—and yet not +see them. To stretch out my hand, yet not see my arm. To touch, in a +lighted corridor, something unseen.</p> + +<p>“Who is that?”</p> + +<p>“It’s Tad—let go of me!”</p> + +<p>As if in blank darkness, fumbling, he started. It was difficult for so +many of us to keep together, so we went in pairs, Arturo and Nereid +went ahead. Tad and I momentarily lost them. We came to the bridge and +stopped.</p> + +<p>“Where are they, Tad?”</p> + +<p>They had agreed to wait here for us. We had passed no Gians as yet; +there were none in sight here. Tad spoke softly:</p> + +<p>“Arturo?”</p> + +<p>Arturo’s voice answered: “Yes—here—”</p> + +<p>Nereid lifted the robe a trifle at her neck; a vague sheen of light was +here now; I saw the patch of her skin, hovering in mid-air above the +bridge rail ten feet away.</p> + +<p>We joined them. I recalled that Rhana had closed every Castle door and +window. In the silence under the bridge the running water sounded. I +whispered:</p> + +<p>“Could we get down there, Tad? Get out this way?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>Nereid’s voice: “Only the dead, killed by Rhana, have gone down there.”</p> + +<p>We decided to try to locate an upper window that might be open. Nereid +thought she could leap with safety that far; she was not sure.</p> + +<p>We were soon among the Gians. The Castle was in a turmoil over my +escape. And presently from the lower passages we heard shouts; Arturo’s +escape had been discovered.</p> + +<p>We passed through many rooms. All the windows were barred. With all our +strength we could not move them.</p> + +<p>A dozen times we were nearly discovered. The Castle was being ransacked +for Arturo and me.</p> + +<p>We were passing through a small room. A Gian man came running from +behind us. We did not hear him in time, and he ran solidly into us, and +fell, shouting an alarm. Tad leaped on him.</p> + +<p>I heard the gruesome splintering crack as Tad wrenched at his neck. The +cries were silenced; Tad was shuddering as he rose.</p> + +<p>Other Gians came running, but we avoided them easily. We came to the +front main doorway, but found it closed. Gian women were on both sides +of it, excitedly talking through the bars.</p> + +<p>We were trapped. There was no way out. I told them how Rhana had stood +at her table, closing the windows and doors. We decided to go there.</p> + +<p>We got into the room. A dozen women were there; Rhana sat by the table. +Nereid’s voice said, at my ear:</p> + +<p>“If we could get to the roof, Jeff, a ladder at the farther end leads +to the ground.”</p> + +<p>But how could we get to the roof? From where we crouched I could see +the steps leading upward—a seven-foot flight of stairs, but there was +a grating, barring the top. The stairs were empty at the moment. And +the roof up there seemed empty.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Freedom, beyond that grating. But how get past it? Rhana sat like a +cool gray statue at the table; her hand rested beside the mechanism. +Occasionally she would speak to one of the women, or issue some command.</p> + +<p>Tad’s voice came: “We’ll creep over there, get up to her, make her open +it. By Tophet, I’ll make her!”</p> + +<p>But if she did not do it at once, her cries would bring the whole +Castle upon us. And even with momentary control of the mechanism, we +did not know how to operate it for ourselves.</p> + +<p>“Let’s kill her and have done with it,” Tad whispered. But that would +not get us to the flood-gates.</p> + +<p>Nereid’s voice whispered: “I have a plan. I can talk like a woman of +the Gians—let me try.”</p> + +<p>We crept across the room, up the empty staircase. At the top, near the +grating, we paused. My heart was beating fast. It might work, or within +an instant we might be discovered.</p> + +<p>Tad murmured: “They’ll see us here against the stairs.”</p> + +<p>But Nereid tried it. Her voice rang out, startlingly loud in the +silence up here at the top of the stairs. She spoke in her own +language, imitating the Gian accent:</p> + +<p>“Let me in, please!”</p> + +<p>Rhana looked up, startled. Every woman in the room was staring at us.</p> + +<p>“Let me in, please!”</p> + +<p>Would they see us? They might have noticed the blur of us against the +stairs near the top. But they did not. They were puzzled. Rhana spoke:</p> + +<p>“Where are you?”</p> + +<p>“Here, on the roof. Open, please, for an instant—you will want to hear +my news.”</p> + +<p>The bars slid aside. We jammed our way out before they were fairly +open. Freedom!</p> + +<p>Rhana called, puzzled: “Come down then. Hurry!”</p> + +<p>Some imp within Nereid must have prompted her. She called back sweetly:</p> + +<p>“Thanks. You may close it now!”</p> + +<p>We dashed across the empty roof, down the ladder, and safely threaded +the turmoil of the garden, plunging into the dark city streets.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“Why, there is Entt!”</p> + +<p>Nereid saw him. We were almost to Fen’s home. The street chanced to +be deserted. Entt rounded a corner, riding his <i>arras</i>. We were +visible now; there seemed no Gians in this part of the city; we had +cut the current from our robes and thrown back the hoods for greater +comfort.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Entt!”</p> + +<p>He pulled up and we crowded around him explaining what had happened. He +was pleased; he smiled as he shook my hand. But he was very solemn.</p> + +<p>Arturo and I were told by Tad where Entt had been. Arturo said:</p> + +<p>“Are the people getting away safely?”</p> + +<p>He nodded. The first of them were past the tunnel-entrance; many were +well on their way. But a million people could not be started on a +march like that at once. It would take several days before they were +all away. Much confusion had been reported. From the opposite surface +across the abyss the Middge were being brought in aëros. But there +was a shortage of cars. Many families were starting to march around, +following the surface curve. It would take them too long; when cars +were available, these Middge would have to be rounded up and brought +across.</p> + +<p>Entt was increasingly solemn. Nereid demanded: “What is it? Something +is wrong?”</p> + +<p>The Middge attack upon the gate-house had been defeated! The expedition +had got close up to the gates. The place seemed abandoned by the Gians. +And then an armed aëro had arrived from the City of the Mound. The +Middge were caught by surprise by the counterattack. An utter rout; +there were no more than twenty of the Middge band alive to struggle +back to the tunnel, and the Gians remained in possession of the gates.</p> + +<p>“Disaster,” said Entt. “There is nothing for any of us but to escape.”</p> + +<p>“But there is!” I exclaimed. I outlined my plan. With these invisible +suits two or three of us could get into the gate-house, even though it +was held by the Gians. A desperate venture—suicide possibly. But if, +before they found and killed us, we could get the huge gates closed and +demolish the mechanism, it would be worth it.</p> + +<p>Entt’s eyes flashed. “I think I understand that mechanism. I will go +with you.”</p> + +<p>I still held the small weapon I had seized from my Gian guard in +Rhana’s Castle room. It had been of no use to us in the Castle, since +none of us knew how to fire it. The weapons of the Gians in this realm +had been very closely held. Nereid had never even had such a weapon in +her hand before. But Entt knew how to use it. He would show me. At the +gate-house it would be of service.</p> + +<p>We started again for Fen’s home, walking, with Entt on the <i>arras</i> +beside us. My plan was to leave Nereid with her father. They would get +together what belongings they wanted and start for the tunnel and wait +there at the entrance for the success or failure of our venture. If we +were still alive, we would join them there.</p> + +<p>We were three minutes, no more, reaching the house. My mind roved what +lay ahead: The horrors here in this dark abyss, unseen by our great +world spreading above. These escaping Gians—forty or fifty thousand of +them, with all their equipment of war, passing upward through the locks +into our falling ocean. This harried Middge people, unarmed, in panic, +a million of them fleeing their doomed realm, marching desperately +into a tunnel that might lead them to safety.</p> + +<p>That titanic surge of water, off there in the neighboring abyss of the +monsters—coming down to mingle with the slumbering fires of the earth. +Vast horrors impended for our upper world.</p> + +<p>But the human mind individualizes. I chiefly felt, and considered, the +personal danger to this little band of friends with whom my interest +lay. And as we approached the silent doorway of Fen’s home, the sense +of impending tragedy—crowning horror—was strong upon me.</p> + +<p>We entered. Nereid called: “Father—my father—we have come.”</p> + +<p>I heard Tad mutter: “I hope he’s kept that fellow Bhool locked up.”</p> + +<p>We passed the silent rooms. “Father—father!”</p> + +<p>A fear was creeping into Nereid’s voice. We hastened, bursting into the +main apartment.</p> + +<p>Crowning horror!</p> + +<p>The closet into which Bhool had been thrust and locked, stood open. +There was food upon the table in the room. On the floor in a huddled +heap lay old Fen. Gruesome, a red stain against his neck, a small, +spreading pool of crimson on the floor; a broad knife-blade, bathed in +crimson, lying here discarded by the murderer.</p> + +<p>We stood stricken, staring, gasping. And then little Nereid flung +herself down.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>He lived to open his eyes and see us. He seemed to recognize us. Arturo +knelt with Nereid.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Fen, what did you do? Where is Bhool? Did you let him out?”</p> + +<p>Fen’s words were faint. “Yes—he—was hungry—and then—he killed me.”</p> + +<p>A kindly act at the last, and the reward was death! Life can be so +tragic, so cruel!</p> + +<p>Fen lay very still, with eyes closed. But in a moment he opened +them. He tried to focus them on Arturo. “You—will guard—my little +daughter—”</p> + +<p>He drew Nereid’s head down to him. He seemed to sigh; and then he lay +unbreathing. There was no sound but Nereid’s sobbing.</p> + +<p>Arturo stood before me. “I want to go with you, Jeff. You know that!”</p> + +<p>“Yes. I know it.” I smiled into his earnest, sorrowful eyes. “But three +of us will be enough, Arturo. And Nereid needs you.”</p> + +<p>“I just wanted you to know I ought to go with you.”</p> + +<p>He turned away. We three were ready. Entt was equipped with his black +robe. I carried my weapon. He had shown me how to advance the charge +from its storage battery to the firing chamber; and how to fire it. An +oblong thing of black metal the size of my hand, it discharged a stab +of radiance with an effective range of perhaps a hundred feet. Or at +fifty, with an altered form of its vibration, the radiance, like an +electro-magnet, would seize an object, grip it, hold it.</p> + +<p>“Is our <i>arras</i> ready, Entt?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>We had one giant <i>arras</i> which could carry all three of us. There +was a small aërocar available at the tunnel-mouth—the tunnel into +which the Middge people were retreating. Entt had left the aëro there.</p> + +<p>Tad demanded: “You’re sure it will be there?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. It is hidden as I told you.”</p> + +<p>I stood again with Arturo. “You take Nereid and three <i>arras</i>, +Arturo.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Jeff.” He was docile now. No more forcing of his own ideas. +“We’ll load one with our things, lead one, and ride the third.”</p> + +<p>“Exactly. And wait at the tunnel-entrance. You’ll find our <i>arras</i> +there, where the aëro is now. Wait there, Arturo—we’ll join you if +we can. But not too long. Understand? If you know that the gates have +broken and we have failed, ride on. Will you?”</p> + +<p>He nodded. His eyes were full. “I may not see you again, Jeff. +Good-by.”</p> + +<p>I clapped his shoulder. “Good-by, Arturo. Good-by, Nereid.”</p> + +<p>We left them standing together gazing after us.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>To any one who cared to look, our giant <i>arras</i> was loping through +the gloom unmounted. We clung to its long saddle, Entt in front, +guiding it. We went in great bounding leaps, over the river-bridge, +with the hot wind rushing past us. Tad’s solid body before me was a +vague black blur, and I could not see Entt at all. We took the road Tad +had already traversed toward the fire caldron, but we soon swung aside.</p> + +<p>We came at last to the tunnel-entrance. Activity here. Twin +light-beacons mounted on the rocks marked it for the arriving Middge +people. They were coming in groups; a throng of them surged in +confusion at the broad entrance, passing the guards, starting on their +long upward march.</p> + +<p>We avoided attracting attention. No one heeded our wandering, seemingly +unmounted <i>arras</i>. We found, beside one of the rocky walls of the +entrance, the small cavelike recess where Entt had left his aërocar, +and here we chained the <i>arras</i>.</p> + +<p>In my heart was a prayer that within a few hours we would be safely +back, with the flood-gates closed, and find Arturo and Nereid here +waiting for us.</p> + +<p>Tad was hopeful of it. “Those Gians won’t stay in the gate-house. Why +would they? The Middge attacked—they couldn’t figure it would be +anything but a last attempt, and they’ve defeated it. To stay there, +with the gates likely to break any moment, that would be crazy!”</p> + +<p>“The Gians are nearly all departed now,” Entt agreed. “Our watchers say +the last of them from this surface and the other are started for the +locks.”</p> + +<p>“And if,” Tad added, “Rhana did leave a few to guard the gates, they’d +desert—wouldn’t wait there for the flood to kill them. They’re all +cowards anyhow, unless they’ve got weapons and you haven’t. Don’t +worry, we’ll find the whole place deserted. It’s exactly the time to +strike at it now, at the last minute!”</p> + +<p>It seemed logical reasoning. I could only hope it might prove true.</p> + +<p>We climbed to the aërocar, where it rested on a rock ledge. It was no +more than ten feet long—a narrow strip of gleaming metal. With the +currents out of our robes, and hoods flung back, we lay upon the car. +Entt was at the controls.</p> + +<p>The car slowly lifted. We slid silently from the recess. The arriving +Middge stared up at us. A guard up on the beacon platform challenged +us. Entt called a signal, and he relaxed.</p> + +<p>We rose and sped forward, gathering speed as we rushed into the +darkness. Underneath I could see a long line of the arriving Middge +families; but we soon were past them.</p> + +<p>Flying low. Presently there were no houses, no signs of human life. A +rocky, barren surface; sometimes a black area of squat forest trees; +to the right I made out the outlines of a rocky wall which we were +following. Then we turned toward it, into a mile-wide passage. We +seemed nearly always ascending; but of that I could not be sure.</p> + +<p>The glaring white beacons along here, placed to blind and turn back +the monsters, had been extinguished and broken by the Gians. It was a +dark, sinister passage, turning, rising, dipping; narrowing almost to a +small tunnel; or again opening into a great rocky amphitheater, with an +extent I could not estimate.</p> + +<p>Half an hour’s flight. Tad and I saw almost nothing; but to Entt the +way was clear.</p> + +<p>I became aware that the air had changed. A fetid quality had come to +it. The passage ceiling had lifted. We were beyond the confines of the +connecting passage. The abyss of the monsters lay before us!</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + +<h3>WITHIN THE GATE-HOUSE.</h3> + + +<p>I could see still less now; and it was doubtless my very limitation of +vision which added to the sense of fear and awe that surged at me. An +abyss here, dark and soundless, the air was heavy, motionless, save +as it moved past us with our forward flight. Air that now was foul as +though heavy with the hot breath of the unseen monsters.</p> + +<p>There was no visible ceiling, no walls. But, as though my pupils were +expanding in this greater darkness, I saw presently a black surface +beneath us; and in another moment saw that we were flying barely a +hundred feet above it.</p> + +<p>A level spread of silent water. There may have been a black luminosity +to it; a phosphorescence, black, yet visible. I seemed, after another +interval, to be staring over a great distance.</p> + +<p>A silent sea lay spread here under us. A vast area of water lying +here like a great black shroud. A scum seemed on its dead, unriffled +surface. A silent sea, yet it breathed with a slow rise and fall, as +though with labored breath it lay dying. A world apart.</p> + +<p>I had thought our turgid ocean depths fearsome. But here was a new +quality—a dark foul sullenness—this silent sea aloof, remote here in +the bowels of our earth. I shuddered as I stared, for it seemed to me +suddenly that only the dead should gaze upon such a place as this.</p> + +<p>And yet I knew that there were living things here. Creatures alive, but +only in that one thing akin to living humans. Monsters lurked here, +foul spawn of things unnameable, of form and manner and horror beyond +all conception of the human mind.</p> + +<p>I looked away at last.</p> + +<p>This soundless abyss! But presently I began to hear a murmur; a surge; +a roar. The water roaring at the flood-gates. And soon I saw that there +was no longer water beneath us; a naked black rock surface.</p> + +<p>Entt whispered suddenly. “Look—out there!”</p> + +<p>Far away I saw a dull-red point of light. No! It was not far; a few +hundred feet—a dull-red smoldering torch. It moved. A black shapeless +blur seemed with it. A living creature slithering away on the rock +surface? Formless, soundless: I was grateful for the concealing +darkness. There are things which it is not good for human eyes to +see—things that mark the mind with horror.</p> + +<p>I did not want to see it, yet I stared. And with imagination beyond +curbing, I futilely tried to supply a head out there on the black +rocks, or a giant black body, or legs and a tail. They are all words +with meaning to our human mind. But this was none of those. My +imagination was blessedly futile!</p> + +<p>For this thing, though perhaps it was partially visible, was beyond my +conception. The eye—was it an eye? Or a fiery breath, congealed in the +air? Or a heart—the essence of the thing’s being—nakedly visible? +The red glow mercifully vanished, with only a dim radiance remaining, +lingering like an infernal wraith of something which had been there and +now was gone.</p> + +<p>We flew onward. The sound of the rushing water was monstrous ahead of +us.</p> + +<p>Entt said: “We will land here. If there are Gians, they must not see us +coming.”</p> + +<p>We left the aëro in a recess at the summit of a small rise. Invisible +again, we started forward on foot. What revulsion I had felt, flying in +the air and gazing down to where monsters might lurk in the darkness, +was intensified now. Here on the rocks, walking, seeing nothing, +hearing only that monstrous torrent ahead, I felt my flesh creeping +with horror. Why, any moment something unspeakable, lurking here, might +spring upon us.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“Keep hold of me, both of you,” Entt whispered.</p> + +<p>Silent shadows, we walked swiftly. The ground was rough, broken now +into great crags among which we climbed, steadily ascending.</p> + +<p>There was light ahead—a milk-white glow, faint as star-dust. And a +jagged black wall, clifflike, rising into the void beyond my vision.</p> + +<p>A few minutes of climbing, and the roar grew. It beat upon me +deafeningly. It seemed for a moment to engulf all my senses. A titan +roaring—this torrent of water. An infuriated titan—yet still in +leash. The milk-white radiance broadened; beside us the rock wall now +was close.</p> + +<p>Entt stopped us. We stood at the summit of the rise up which we had +come. Entt spoke, shouting at us now, for the blare of dashing water +tore at his words and flung them away.</p> + +<p>“There is the gate-house. I think there are no Gians here.”</p> + +<p>We followed his gestures with our gaze. I stood peering, holding my +weapon in my hand.</p> + +<p>From here a path led down the rocks to the right. A hundred feet away +down there the cliff wall rose sheer, smooth and black. The path, from +where we were standing, went down the declivity and came to a small +door, a gateway in an artificial wall.</p> + +<p>Beyond it, looking down upon the wall from this greater height, I could +see a small inner courtyard, with the wall inclosing it, and another +door. Beyond that, a narrow, precipitous flight of metal stairs, with +a wall around the bottom of them, led upward a hundred feet. Up there, +perched like some aerie against the cliff-face, was a small black +building, the gate-house. It hung there, with a dim oval of radiance +from within marking its window.</p> + +<p>Tad shouted at my ear: “If those courtyard doors are open—Or we might +climb the walls.”</p> + +<p>Those courtyard walls seemed no more than ten feet high. No Gians were +here, and the whole place appeared deserted.</p> + +<p>“Wait a moment,” Entt cautioned. “If there is any one here, we’ll see +movement.”</p> + +<p>The little metal house up there on its perch seemed unoccupied. Its +door was ajar, showing a slit of light, and the window on this side +was open. The room within was lighted. Was any one there? We waited, +closely watching, for any shadow of movement.</p> + +<p>My attention wandered to the vaster scene spread before us. The +milk-white radiance illumined the distance. Beyond the path and the +small courtyards there was a sudden drop, a thousand feet perhaps—a +void here, all at that lower level. The cliff wall, to which the +gate-house clung, went down that thousand feet—and up out of sight +overhead. And stretched off in the milky distance. Smooth, black and +sheer.</p> + +<p>But there were lines marking it into great rectangles; giant blocks +of metal out of which it was built. Not a cliff, but a titanic dam! I +could see only this end of it—twenty miles of it possibly. At about +the level of the gate-house, the water was surging through it, in a +tremendous horizontal gash. It stretched off and lost itself in the +blur of distance. And through the gash the wall of water was arching +out and falling a thousand feet.</p> + +<p>Uncounted Niagaras! A million? I could fancy so. A million Niagaras, +piled one upon the other for a thousand feet of height; laid end to +end for hundreds of miles. An utterly inconceivable torrent, falling a +thousand feet into a white sea of foam down below—a boiling, lashing +sea hundreds of miles wide, leaping and tumbling away into other +cañons. White-lashed water, catching what little light was here, +reflecting it as a milky radiance.</p> + +<p>There was wind here, its roar mingling with the greater roar unnoticed. +Wind whirling and plucking at us. Spray, even up here. Giant spirals +of upflung mist. The salt tang of the sea-spume whipped and sucked and +flung by the wind.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>We stood only a moment. No Gians were here. Why would there be? This +water could not surge through that wall for very long without tearing +it away. Inconceivable torrent! But it was a mere slit in the wall—the +dribble of a child’s spillway on the shore of a sea. Our great oceans +were up there—pressing to get down. What Gian would stay here on +guard, with all his fellows escaping to safety?</p> + +<p>We crept cautiously down the path. The wind whirled us; the spray, +suddenly leaping in some chance gust, drenched us. I clung to Tad. Entt +I could not see. I felt a sudden mild electric shock from Tad’s robe. +He cried out involuntarily; became visible so that I saw him beside me. +His hands tore at his hood; his startled white face appeared.</p> + +<p>Then he grinned. “Ruined! It’s off, Jeff. You can see me, can’t you?”</p> + +<p>The water had evidently short-circuited his robe. And in a moment mine +went the same.</p> + +<p>Entt cut out his current. We flung back our hoods and took off our +gloves. The freedom of it was pleasant, but we were no longer invisible.</p> + +<p>“What of it?” said Tad. “There isn’t any one here.”</p> + +<p>We came to the low door in the first wall. It opened to our touch. The +courtyard was empty.</p> + +<p>I clutched my weapon, with its lever adjusted to give the stabbing +flash. It seemed to aim readily, very much like an automatic. There was +a reassuring security in the feel of it. At a hundred feet I could +drill any one we might come upon.</p> + +<p>There were inner doors to rooms in this courtyard wall. We crept upon +them one by one; flung them open, tense to meet what might be within. +All were empty. Small empty rooms, with evidence of the Gian garrison +here hastily departed.</p> + +<p>We passed the inner wall door. No one here. We climbed the long metal +ladder up the cliff-face to the gate-house.</p> + +<p>I led, with Tad next. “Easy, Jeff! Hang on—don’t get dizzy. By the +infernal, what a place!”</p> + +<p>The ladder seemed to sway under us. In spite of all my flying +experience, I found myself clinging, with senses whirling for a moment. +It seemed that ladder was a spider web hanging over the chaos of water. +The white turmoil of spume engulfed us.</p> + +<p>A slow, patient climb. We stood at last on a small metal grid, the +platform at the top of the ladder. The gate-house door was ajar.</p> + +<p>Tad gripped me as we braced ourselves in the wind. “You’ve kept the +projector dry?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.” I had shielded it with a fold of my robe.</p> + +<p>He gestured. “I’ll shove the door, Jeff. We’ll rush in together. Get +back, Entt. Ready, Jeff?”</p> + +<p>“No! Stoop here, on one side. I’ll kick it open. We’ll wait and see—”</p> + +<p>With my foot I swung the door inward. We crouched to one side. Nothing +came out, nor was there any sign of movement in there. Weapon ready, I +advanced to where I could see all the room. A square metal apartment of +perhaps twenty feet, it seemed to occupy the entire little house. One +window was here beside the door, another window faced the maelstrom of +the dam. A bunk, a few pieces of furniture.</p> + +<p>A table near the farther window held a square metal tablet, no larger +than my chest. The dim interior light shone on it; switches and wires; +dials; a glowing bowl of radiance, like the fluorescence of an atomic +tube. The gate mechanism!</p> + +<p>My heart pounded as I gazed at it. This little thing—diabolical! But +Entt knew how to operate it. A minute now and we would start it closing +the great gates.</p> + +<p>We advanced into the room, cautiously, then with a rush. I whirled with +my weapon ready. Tad stood alert, tense, his eyes roving every corner. +Entt dashed for the mechanism, and hastily seated himself at the table.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>There was a movement behind me! In the outer doorway stood Rhana! She +flung off a long, wet cloak. “So? You did come?” She advanced a step +and then leaped for Entt.</p> + +<p>A panther’s leap! I met it with the stabbing light of my weapon; +caught the sheathlike shield of her body; struck her full. There was a +flare—a wave of vibration came surging back at me.</p> + +<p>She was unharmed. A glow was around her; it streamed like a mantle +down from her headdress. Her leap carried her to Entt. He rose up, was +caught half turning. And then he crumpled, slumped and fell at her feet.</p> + +<p>Tad and I rushed at her. And I saw that Tad had staggered back; he +fell, but he was alive, shouting: “Jeff! Look out—run!”</p> + +<p>Rhana whirled at me. I fired again. The flash was reflected upward; the +room ceiling reddened for an instant where it struck.</p> + +<p>“Run, Jeff!”</p> + +<p>Tad was on his knees. I leaped forward—and struck the radiance +surrounding Rhana as though it were a solid wall. A wall of vibration. +The flesh of my arm burned; my robe shriveled about me. I was dashed +back and fell; my weapon clattered to the floor.</p> + +<p>Rhana had ignored my attack. An instant only she stooped over the +table, then she turned from the instruments. I caught a glimpse of her +face. Her lips were parted in a mocking smile. She went past Tad and +me before we could rise; she caught up her cloak, went through the +doorway. The metal door closed upon us.</p> + +<p>Failure! It pounded at my heart—failure now at the last!</p> + +<p>I was striving to get up.</p> + +<p>“Jeff—you all right?”</p> + +<p>Tad got to his feet, wavering, almost falling again. I stood with him +in a moment, stood shaking. My left arm hung limp and my legs were +almost unable to hold me. The smell of burned flesh, noisome, was heavy +about us. My arm was burned; Tad was scorched. Both our robes were +shriveled and charred about us.</p> + +<p>We lurched to where Entt lay huddled on the floor, then I pulled Tad +away.</p> + +<p>“Dead?” he asked.</p> + +<p>I gasped. “Yes—don’t look, Tad. His face—burned where she struck +him—it’s—too badly burned.”</p> + +<p>Thank God he was dead!</p> + +<p>Failure! It pounded at us, beyond thought of Entt, or ourselves. These +gates, this torrent!</p> + +<p>The mechanism lay inert where Rhana had demolished it. But more than +that—</p> + +<p>“Jeff, listen! Good God!”</p> + +<p>Monstrous roar and surge of the water. But there were other sounds in +it now—a muffled rumbling, far away, a vague blended rumble, crashing, +tearing, as of great mountains of rock split and torn and moved away. +It was growing into a tumult—sweeping nearer, louder.</p> + +<p>“Jeff!”</p> + +<p>The window by the broken mechanism was closed; but its heavy pane +was transparent. We could see the dam through it. A mile away, as we +stared, a great segment of metal moved outward, broke and fell into the +torrent. The dam was crumbling!</p> + +<p>A snapping violet light, huge as a rainbow, was out there, darting +along the wall as far as we could see into the distance—a powder train +of light, laid by the Gians, which now Rhana had released. It ate and +tore and ripped at the wall. Another segment crumbled and fell—a +mountain of metal rock, instantly engulfed by the greater surge of +water from behind it; engulfed and flung down and lost as though it +were a pebble.</p> + +<p>The seething white abyss was visibly higher now. In ten minutes more it +would be up here to the gate-house level, its backed-up water surging +into the dark realm of the monsters, surging everywhere.</p> + +<p>“Tad—it’s breaking!” Was that my voice, so calm in the midst of a +cataclysm like this? “Breaking, Tad. We can’t do anything about it. +Just get out of here—”</p> + +<p>His eyes were big, luminous as torches; his white face expressionless +with the shock of it.</p> + +<p>Failure!</p> + +<p>“Yes, Jeff. We’d better get away.”</p> + +<p>The window near the broken mechanism was closed by its heavy thick +pane. We found now that the other window was closed! And the door! +We pulled at them. With all our shattered strength we tore at them. +Futile! We were trapped. A metal cage, now, this little house clinging +to the rocks, with the mounting torrent already risen almost to engulf +it!</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER XX.</h2> + +<h3>DOOMED REALM!</h3> + + +<p>It seemed for an instant that we had not the courage left to struggle. +Yet even a rat within a cage plunged into water frantically fights +to its last strength. We stood with full realization, apathetic; and +then panic descended upon us. The instinct for self-preservation, +overwhelming, driving us into unreasonable panic. We flung ourselves +at the door; upon the thick windows we beat with bruised, futile fists.</p> + +<p>This inconceivable torrent, rising. The windows were wet with the +spray; as though a wave had struck us, solid water dashed against +them and then receded. A white chaos out there, with the violet light +leaping through it.</p> + +<p>“Jeff! We can’t—we can’t get out! Jeff! Here—help me hit it! Let’s +try hitting it with the table—”</p> + +<p>I stood, with some remnant of reason, striving to master the panic. So +this was the end?</p> + +<p>“Tad, for God’s sake, stop! Don’t waste time. Stop and think what’s +best to do. We’ve got to find a way out!” I held him, shook him. “We’ve +got a few minutes—there must be some way!”</p> + +<p>So this was the end of Tad Megan and Jeff Grant? Ah, there is a fate +to guide us all in the making of our destiny. In stress, in crisis, in +disaster—always some little thing.</p> + +<p>My foot struck against the small projector lying on the floor. I +stooped and seized it.</p> + +<p>“Tad. This?” I moved about the room. With this stabbing, burning light, +could we not blast or burn our way out through some vulnerable spot?</p> + +<p>We were both suddenly calmer.</p> + +<p>“Easy, Jeff, don’t waste its charge. How many flashes has it got?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know.” The building shook under the blow of an upflung surge +of solid spray. “We’ll find some spot that might fuse easily.”</p> + +<p>The window facing the ladder platform—its thick pane seemed embedded +in a casement like lead, a gray soft metal. I stood a foot from it and +fired. The stab of light came back at me, the recoil like a blow, and +burning. My hand and arm were seared. But a portion of the casement was +gone. The wind from outside came through.</p> + +<p>“It works, Jeff! Give it to me—I’ll try one.”</p> + +<p>A dozen or more blasts of the projector, then it failed us, empty, its +charge exhausted. I flung it away. But the bull’s-eye pane was almost +free. We raised the metal table, heaved it. The corner of it struck the +pane; the whole thing fell outward. Wind and spume came beating madly +through.</p> + +<p>We climbed, and fell outward upon the platform. The roar was deafening. +We crouched, clung and found the head of the ladder, then went down it.</p> + +<p>There seemed still only spray at the bottom. In the white murk I saw +the wet black ground, wet courtyard walls. The crest of a wave engulfed +them. We clung to the bottom of the ladder. The water fell away.</p> + +<p>We leaped, reached the ground, and ran, the spray following us down the +declivity. The white abyss into which the water had been falling was +nearly filled. I saw, as we turned and ran, the blurred vision of that +gigantic crumbling dam. But even that would be very soon but a portion +of the torrent.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The aëro was still unharmed. It seemed, as we climbed to it and started +it aloft, that a wall of water swept under us. The car bucked and +whirled in the wind; the spray was like a torrential salt rain as we +mounted through it.</p> + +<p>We had to shout above the roar.</p> + +<p>“You think you can guide us out, Tad?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I think so.”</p> + +<p>“We’ve got to get to the tunnel and find Arturo and Nereid.”</p> + +<p>The water raced us. We rose perhaps five hundred feet. This abyss of +the monsters now was not silent, nor dark. Behind us we could hear the +roar and lash of the water pouring in. The dark, dying sea was whipped +into fury, and rising visibly. The turmoil of water was white now. The +white radiance streamed from it. I saw, far overhead, a rocky ceiling. +I looked back. The radiance showed the clifflike wall back there, +blurred by the white chaos; but I saw it crumbling.</p> + +<p>We found the connecting passage leading out to the abyss of the Middge +and Gians. The water had reached here—the first surge racing through +here, a mile-wide subterranean torrent. We flew close over it. There +was a place where the ceiling came down. We barely got through.</p> + +<p>Racing, with the abyss behind us breaking under the pressure. +Distant, muffled rumbling, horribly gigantic, behind us. There was +a vague muffled explosion off somewhere—some fire-pit which the +water had reached. The vibration of it—the suddenly increased air +pressure—dashed our aëro into a wild upward leap, and then a drop. We +barely recovered, and raced on.</p> + +<p>The torrent here in the passage was eating at the walls. One of them +broke through as we went by. A rock mass fell close behind us. The +water backed against it; it broke sidewise in other places.</p> + +<p>A chaos of falling rock was back there. The dammed-up water turned +other ways, into other abysses—filled them, soon rose, pursuing us +again.</p> + +<p>“Where are we, Tad?”</p> + +<p>I shouted it as we lay prone, clinging to the leaping little aëro.</p> + +<p>“In the main abyss, I think. God, Jeff, look over there!”</p> + +<p>We seemed rushing through the familiar abyss of the Mound City. But it +was no longer familiar. I followed Tad’s gaze, and saw a red glare in +the distance.</p> + +<p>“Is that the fire caldron?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know—I think so—or was it the other way?”</p> + +<p>The outlines of the abyss were changing; the walls breaking down; fire +pits opening. For a time—how long I cannot say—we were lost. An hour +perhaps? Or more?</p> + +<p>We flew aimlessly, seeking the tunnel-entrance. Did it still exist?</p> + +<p>This doomed realm! There were things Tad and I saw in that hour or +more of flight which have marked us forever with horror, a myriad +small fragmentary glimpses which were all our minds could grasp—tiny +fragments of the whole which was beyond conception.</p> + +<p>The distant red glare spread. We avoided it, flying the other way. Tad +thought that the black wall off to our left held the tunnel mouth. But +it began breaking, and a wall of water engulfed it.</p> + +<p>The hot breath of the fires reached us, thickly sulphurous. We soon +were gasping.</p> + +<p>Everywhere the honeycomb was breaking down. Still distant—but the +familiar conformations of the abyss were changing.</p> + +<p>Lost. And then a new hope came to us. The surface beneath us showed +clear in the red glare. Houses were here now, and a road.</p> + +<p>“We’ve passed the tunnel,” Tad shouted. “That’s the road from the +Mound—I know the way now!”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>We turned back and followed it. People were down there. Middge and +loaded <i>arras</i>, running in panic.</p> + +<p>A muffled explosion sounded through the mingled roar of water and +falling rock. A hot sulphurous wave of gas came surging. It seemed to +cling to the surface—a black mist rolling, spreading. It engulfed +the struggling line of Middge. Its tongues of flame licked at them. +They wilted, shriveled. Human cries came up to us—shrill, tiny as +shrieking insects. The gas-cloud hid them.</p> + +<p>“Higher, Tad—we’ll be—choked—”</p> + +<p>We mounted. The air was pure here, wet with wind and the salt of the +inrushing sea. A wall of water came tumbling, engulfing, lashing at the +surface, then pounding off to some lower area. A monster—something +still alive, struggling with instinct of fear—trumpeted with a +strident, uncanny scream. The cry stopped in a moment as the thing was +swept away.</p> + +<p>This doomed realm!</p> + +<p>“Tad, look! Is that the entrance?”</p> + +<p>A rock wall still intact loomed ahead of us, and a tunnel mouth, +blurred in the mingled spray and smoke. One small beacon light still +remained, bleary, winking—vanishing.</p> + +<p>We landed on the rock with a crash. Unhurt, we jumped from the aëro. +Human figures lay here, twisted, huddled shapes. A few still tried to +move.</p> + +<p>We choked with the fumes. I passed a child—dead, clinging in death to +its dead mother. A woman alone—gruesomely burned from some flaming +tongue which had licked the rocks here. I stooped. No, it was not +Nereid.</p> + +<p>We thought we had come to the niche where Arturo and Nereid were to +meet us. It was empty. We stumbled away.</p> + +<p>In the tunnel mouth the air seemed momentarily better. A man struggled +ahead of us, then fell, lay still. I stooped over him. No, not Arturo.</p> + +<p>The tunnel rose steeply. For just a moment at a turn, we stood looking +back. A muttering, screaming, hissing abyss of red glare—steam and +smoke and mingled water and fire, breaking down all its distant walls, +an inconceivable torrent, filling this abyss, smothering these fires, +crushing these passages. Rushing thousands of miles—smashing and +roaring to find new levels.</p> + +<p>We rounded the corner—struggled and stumbled on upward through the +dark tunnel.</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> + +<h3>THE WHITE AËRO ATTACKS.</h3> + + +<p>It had been the night of August 15, 1991, when I stood at Park Circle +80, in New York, and saw the news bulletins that the tides again were +falling. The days that followed were for our world the strangest, +most fearsome of its recorded history, comparable to nothing within +our ken. Yet we know so little of the lifetime of our earth. A few +centuries out of millions! We look at our maps; we say: “This is +the land and this, the water. This is the way things are.” We feel +instinctively that it was always so. But it was not.</p> + +<p>The events of August, September, and October of 1991 are history now. I +cannot detail them; cannot crowd into a few paragraphs the chronicle of +more than an infinitesimal fraction of what really occurred.</p> + +<p>The tides, for a few days after August 15 were off a fathom or so each +twenty-four hours. It brought, in all the interwoven affairs of our +nations, a sudden stoppage of all human activity, a panicky confusion. +But that was soon over. Human endeavor must go on; without it, we die. +Transportation must proceed. Food must come daily to all the great +population centers. Without transportation, in forty-eight hours New +York City would be starving.</p> + +<p>They say now that had 1991 not been the age of the air, the world could +not have survived. Doubtless it is so. The oceans had come naturally +into disuse, and air transportation, even over our great land areas, +was already supreme.</p> + +<p>Storms swept the world on August 16. Volcanic activity began. From +every part of the earth’s surface came reports of nature disturbed. The +news tapes were crowded, and with the disorganization of industry, the +newscasters proved inadequate. There were days when even government +officials were scarcely aware of the terrible events transpiring.</p> + +<p>Dr. Plantet was summoned to Washington. He found there a harassed +government in utter chaos. A million abnormal things to be done at +once—a million unprecedented problems requiring instant solution, +with the safety of our people hanging in the balance. The panic must +be allayed. All work, all human endeavor must cease, save those things +which were vital.</p> + +<p>Transportation of food loomed out of the chaos, most vital problem of +all. Storms were wrecking the established air lines. But that supreme +thing—food for our millions—must not be wrecked. Industry was at +a standstill, but no one cared. The world’s northern harvests were +neglected; the southern countries stopped all thought of the spring +planting. No one cared. That was the future. This was now, a vital +crisis; a matter of days, or hours.</p> + +<p>A passenger air-liner coming from London was wrecked in a hurricane +which on August 17 swept the Northern Atlantic. The news was +ignored—save that such futile transportation was commanded to +discontinue.</p> + +<p>There would be droughts in the future. If the oceans emptied, what +of our rainfall? New desert areas would spring up, to alter all our +agriculture. What of it? That was the future. This chaos was now. New +supplies of fresh water would have to be found. The scientists thought +so—but they weren’t sure. No one knew anything or cared anything +beyond this week, or next—to-day, and to-morrow.</p> + +<p>Every government in the world was in a turmoil. And private endeavor +was inadequate, futile; upon the governments alone lay the burden. Ah, +in the serene times of normality, big business decries its government! +But when trouble comes—business stands helpless and says: “Tell us +what to do!”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>In the midst of the welter our war department faced the possibility of +an enemy lurking in the ocean depths which the falling water was laying +bare. Plans must be made—defense against an enemy inhuman, or at least +so strange, so unknown that to plan intelligently to fight it seemed +impossible. An army to equip—to fight whom? And where? And under what +conditions? No one could say.</p> + +<p>Polly remained at the Plantet home on the Maine coast, those days +following August 15. The news-tape was in the instrument room; the +radio-phones and mirrors were there to carry her with sound and vision +to distant lands; the sky was overhead, and the falling sea lay before +her. I fancy she saw as much of the whole as any one; her experience +was typical.</p> + +<p>She sat for hours in the instrument room with the maelstrom of recorded +events surging around her. The mind dulls under such a plethora of +impressions. Vast ocean currents appearing. A gigantic drift to the +Pacific. Rushing ocean past all our Pacific islands and continental +coasts. Storms, floods, disasters everywhere. Unusual volcanic and +seismic activity. It soon began to have little meaning.</p> + +<p>And soon, too, the reports grew vague. There was no one to measure the +falling tides; no passing planes to sight many of the icebergs coming +down with a rush from the polar regions; no one to record the water +temperatures, to reveal the polar seas moving into the warm Pacific.</p> + +<p>Polly was busy answering calls for her father; taking messages; fending +them off; weeding them out and relaying them to Washington. But there +were hours when she was free.</p> + +<p>She sat often at the rocky beach, generally in the long evening and +night hours. The sea lay before her; lapping at the rocks, far out and +down the slope from where once had been a shore-front. A dark area out +there, unnaturally low—the ocean lying with the starlight upon it. The +rocky headlines of the coast stood with naked black roots exposed.</p> + +<p>Polly says that she could notice the drift of the water, like a river +slowly moving southward. And each night—each morning when she came out +to stare at it—the water was lower, its shore edge farther out and +farther down, more of the rocky slope laid bare. The coast headlands +and outer rocks began to seem peaks upstanding from this new realm of +land. Two rocks to the north, which once had been mere points above the +water, now were joined down at their dark roots—twin spires at the top +of a widening elevation of tumbled slimy rock.</p> + +<p>The smell of the rotting sea had been heavy along the coast under the +daylight sun; vaporous like a miasma rolled up from the exposed slopes. +A mist clung heavy upon the water which only the sun at noon could +dispel. A north wind, the night of the 18th, brought a clearer air. By +midnight it was cold—as though this wind had come whirling from the +Arctic. And with it fell a torrential downpour—tropical in force—cold +enough to suggest that it might have snow coming behind it.</p> + +<p>Polly stood on the upper balcony. Black downpour—driving wind. And +overhead she noticed a heavy, luminous green murk. Nature was abnormal, +disturbed everywhere. She went indoors.</p> + +<p>The radio announcer was reeling off reports of the storm. South +Greenland, Labrador, and all the north of Quebec Province were +enveloped in a blizzard. There was a report that the water in Davis +Strait was far colder than normal; an ice pack was coming down it, +moving southward.</p> + +<p>Polly sat for a time trying to envisage it all. And her thoughts turned +to Arturo and me, and Nereid. She thought once that Nereid was speaking +to her, but then it seemed only fancy.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The storm was gone by morning. The day warmed again. The wind, +unnaturally swinging, blew violently first one way, then another. The +sea was lower; another ten feet down—its shore now, where at the +seaweed rocky slope it pounded with spent waves from the storm, was +another fifty feet away. The mist hung over it, swirled in the wind, +and in the lulls gathered like a smoke pall.</p> + +<p>The smell of the mist was heavy, noisome almost—rotting weed, +barnacles, shell-fish, food of the sea, lying on the slimy rocks, +rotting, stinking in the sun. The smell of ooze and sea-mud. A heavy +dark murk began to hover always down there. The wind blew it away, but +it gathered again. Once it came like a wave on the wind, rolling up the +slope to this higher level where the Plantet house stood. Polly closed +up the building until the outside air cleared.</p> + +<p>The night of August 20-21 was still, soundless, save from far down +where the ocean rollers were pounding. It was a heavy, oppressive +night; dark, with sullen, green-black clouds. From the veranda there +seemed to Polly only a dark void stretching out over the falling ocean, +two hundred feet below her—a void of sullen black mist. A green-black +murk hung down there with the water level hidden beneath it. The aspect +of a vanished ocean had never been so obvious. Here on the Maine coast +Polly stood gazing out toward Spain.</p> + +<p>It came upon her then: she was standing upon a great height—our whole +continental coast was the summit of a gigantic rise. Spain was off +there beyond the horizon, standing similarly on a height. And between +them was a dark void, an abyss filled now with noisome clouds. But when +the clouds lifted?</p> + +<p>Polly could envisage then the new lands rolling down there in the abyss +between her and Spain. The lands of the depths. New mountains whose +highest peaks were lower than her feet. New plains, new valleys—a +whole new realm added to our world. Some day, when the air down there +was purged and the ooze and mud and rotting sea-organisms were dried, +and cleansed by the blessed sunlight, what fertile land would be given +mankind! What mines of metal and precious stones might be found!</p> + +<p>Villages would spring up. Agriculture, industry would begin down +there. Our world of the earth’s surface, suddenly made five times +larger. The world of the Lowlands, added to the Highlands which were +all we had before. She envisaged the Bermudas tiny mountain peaks +towering alone out of the Lowlands toward the sky. And the Azores—and +southward, all the little fairy mountain-tops which once we had called +the islands of the Caribbean.</p> + +<p>Fearsome, but romantic cataclysm to bring so suddenly this change!</p> + +<p>That sullen night of August 20-21 passed, to Polly, without incident. +But at dawn she was awakened; the newscaster’s voice was blaring. She +crowded, with the frightened servants of the household, before the +sound-grid.</p> + +<p>An earthquake had occurred somewhere under the Pacific Ocean. Two tidal +waves had flung from it. The Asiatic and American coasts, even with the +ocean level down two hundred feet, were inundated. Thousands dead and +homeless. From the Pacific islands meager reports were coming. Many +islands had been swept end to end by the wave. The great volcanos of +the Hawaiians were in violent eruption. But in an hour’s time they were +quiet again.</p> + +<p>The tidal waves dashed themselves out. Death and destruction raged for +an hour over thousands of miles of seacoast.</p> + +<p>An earthquake under the ocean; tidal waves spent and gone; volcanos +active, then still. But down there underground, I had seen the cause of +all this, had seen a realm and a nation doomed and destroyed.</p> + +<p>Yet what I had seen was an infinitesimal part. Who can ever picture the +smashing of those underground passages; the compression of steam and +gases, ripping, tearing, heaving with one mighty lunge to rip the ocean +bottom? An earthquake! Futile term! What have we who feel a trembling +that shakes our buildings down, or opens a few cracks in the surface, +ever experienced of the reality beneath?</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>That night of August 20 a giant rift must have opened in the floor of +the Pacific. Certain it is that from that moment the oceans receded +with ever-increasing rapidity. A hundred feet down on the 21st, more +than that the next day; an accelerating drop as the volume of water +grew less. There was no one to measure, to do more than guess at +it from circling, groping aircraft gazing down at the green-black +mist-clouds which hung over the new Lowlands.</p> + +<p>On the 21st of August, Dr. Plantet returned to Polly. They stayed there +throughout August, September and well into October. Sixty days of world +confusion. Ten years from now the chaotic events of those days may be +sorted out for some patient chronicler to tell in a coherent fashion. I +would not dare attempt it. But there were a few high lights which stand +out clearly.</p> + +<p>The rainfall was abnormal, gradually lessening. High winds were +everywhere reported. Volcanic activity was spasmodic and there were +no other earthquakes. As though nature wanted to help struggling, +panic-stricken mankind, artesian wells and all sources of fresh water +save rainfall, were abnormally bountiful. The climate was changing, on +the whole, growing far colder—and this, they said, was only temporary; +the Polar seas were moving down with the rush of all the oceans into +the emptying Pacific Basin. The oceans, down in the murky depths, were +surging like rivers. The roar of them down there against the rocks of +their lowering shore-fronts was like a giant waterfall heard everywhere +in the world.</p> + +<p>The Lowlands were opening up, but great slow-moving cloud masses hung +over them. The ocean surface down at the bottom was seldom seen. +Heavy mists clung low—every day lower. Peaks began to show down in +the abyss, new, sullen black mountain-tops, eroded into rounded domes, +unreal to any earthly landscape. The mists clung to them like black +veils.</p> + +<p>The foul rotting smell of the vapors, when the wind brought them up, +caused disease; but daily the menace visibly lessened.</p> + +<p>The vapors clung low; soon they seldom rose from the distant, deepest +Lowlands. They were not only low, but far away from our coast cities. +The continental shelf was exposed for several hundred miles.</p> + +<p>Of the new realm, little could be seen save the downward slopes and the +distant domelike peaks.</p> + +<p>During September the organized aircraft of several nations were +regularly cruising over the Pacific Basin. The Lowlands of the Pacific, +they now were being called. An enemy might be down there. The planes +carried image-finders; the public at its mirrors, gazed upon the +strange scene. The planes seldom flew lower than the former sea-level. +Rolling dark, heavy clouds lay beneath them. Rounded peaks; eroded +mountain ridges. And sometimes the sea would show. Broken now into +bowl-like areas, which if they had not drained would have been new, +small land-locked oceans. Giant waterfalls, tumbling over great ridges; +wide, swift-flowing rivers, draining off to be dry valleys within a +week.</p> + +<p>It was all so constantly changing. What an observer saw to-day, was +unrecognizable to-morrow. There were many tales of dying things of +the sea, lying trapped on the rocky slopes—dying, rotting. And +occasionally a broken surface vessel of by-gone days, exposed in its +grave as the water left it.</p> + +<p>There was no sign of an enemy, until September 30th. And that day the +civilized world of the Highlands rang with the news.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The oceans were down some eight or ten thousand feet now. No one +could measure the exact level. Oceans? The word had lost its meaning. +There was no body of water left of any great extent. The realm of the +Lowlands was an actuality.</p> + +<p>Far down among the black mists water often was seen. Lakes perched in +mountain caldrons. Giant waterfalls; tumbling rivers; cañons, some +dry, some filled with tumultuous water; domes rearing their rounded +heads into the heavy clouds; domes, lower, isolated at the water level; +great trenches filled with moving water; ridges, like mountain chains +standing aloft.</p> + +<p>Strange, black new realm. Its main configurations were beginning to +take form. The great ridges of the Atlantic Basin were showing. The +huge central basin of the Pacific lay like a dark inland sea. The great +deeps were still all unbroken water.</p> + +<p>On September 30, a plane was passing over the Micronesia section of +the Pacific Lowlands, scouting the tumbled abyss down there, the +precipitous slopes from the ridges and domes down to the water-filled +caldrons and trenches.</p> + +<p>The exact latitude and longitude were not given by the discoverer. +The report said: “Micronesia, north of the Caroline Mountain-tops.” +Seen vaguely through a rolling cloud mass was what might have been a +plateau, with mountain ridges around it. The plane was flying at about +our Continental level, the former sea-level. They were calling it now +the Zero-height; and in the new technical language this plateau was +down in the Lowlands at minus ten thousand feet.</p> + +<p>The observers could see very little. A fiercely flowing river, still +lower, was tumbling into a boiling pit. The plateau was broken and +pitted with dark round areas like cave-mouths. There were moving human +figures on the plateau! The plane swept on, came back, and descended to +what they claimed was minus fifteen hundred feet, the lowest level any +plane had yet attained. Through a cloud rift the observers saw human +figures clearly. A brief glimpse. There seemed hundreds, perhaps a +thousand figures.</p> + +<p>Polly and her father were at home when the news came. Polly, all that +morning, was silent. Thoughts seemed struggling to reach her. Once she +leaped to her feet, stood trembling.</p> + +<p>“Father! I hear—I feel words from Nereid! Arturo—Jeff—they’re +safe—still alive!”</p> + +<p>She knew it. And then her mind rang with other words:</p> + +<p>“<i>Stop! Don’t let them attack us! Stop them!</i>”</p> + +<p>It was hardly half an hour later when the newscasters had another +report. Two planes had gone back with the discoverer to verify the +existence of this enemy. The figures were still to be seen down there. +The planes had dropped bombs—they believed, with effect. They had had +a brief, telescopic glimpse. The white-skinned people had scattered. +Some lay still; many were seen running—small, white-skinned people.</p> + +<p>It was plain to Polly. These were people like Nereid. And Nereid’s +thoughts were saying: “<i>Stop them! Don’t let them attack us!</i>”</p> + +<p>Dr. Plantet talked with the authorities. A week went by.</p> + +<p>Planes watched this enemy, but no more bombs were dropped. Polly strove +for further connection with Nereid, but could not establish it.</p> + +<p>On October 8 the Gians were discovered. “Gray-skinned people,” the +reports said, “with apparatus of metal.”</p> + +<p>They were seen less clearly and more briefly than the Middge, and were +farther to the south. Dr. Plantet and Polly identified it as being +fairly near the Zero-height peak which was Nereid’s island.</p> + +<p>The Gians were seen in a tumbled region which since has been termed the +Southwest Mountains of the Moon. The planes circled in the neighborhood +for an hour, awaiting a rift in the concealing cloud-banks. But the +gray-skinned figures were gone—withdrawn probably into the myriad +caverns of the region. And the Middge, too, seemed now to have +retreated, hiding down there in the caves and passages which were +numerous in all this area of the Micronesian Lowlands.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>October 15 came. The authorities were studying the region. Plans for +attack were being made, volunteer armies were being organized, and +armed planes were being equipped. There was much scientific discussion +over changes that would be necessary in wing areas, curvatures, angles +of incidence for flying in the greater air-pressures of the Sub-zero +levels.</p> + +<p>The world, with the enemy now discovered, was immediately less +apprehensive. White, and gray-skinned people down there—they seemed +neither very numerous nor very menacing. The public rang with boastful +predictions of what would happen when our planes were ready to attack.</p> + +<p>Not a very numerous enemy, nor very menacing! Not menacing? A +gray-white shape was observed on the night of October 15, flying at +the Zero-height near the Australian Continental shelf. It was vaguely +described. An aëro—very flat and narrow—wingless—several hundred +feet long by twenty feet wide.</p> + +<p>On October 17 a strange disease was reported from Southeast Australia. +People were stricken by it over a widely separated area. But all of +them lived at or near the Zero-height, at the edge of the Southeast +shelf, the border of the Lowlands.</p> + +<p>Strange disease indeed! The reports came to Dr. Plantet. A number of +the suffering victims were brought by fast airline to Washington. Dr. +Plantet, with a group of leading medical men, met in Washington to +study the disease.</p> + +<p>Whether contagious, or infectious, or both, they could not say. A +germ disease undoubtedly. Swiftly progressing. A day of darkening +fingernails. Fingers and toes turning numb and black. The whites of +the eyes turning dark. A lassitude. A gruesome coma with the victim +screaming as in a nightmare. Then a calm, trancelike catalepsy, +followed by death.</p> + +<p>Dr. Plantet came back to Polly. He was grim. He slumped in his chair.</p> + +<p>“We don’t know what it is, Polly. Nothing we have ever had to deal +with before.” She had never seen him so solemn, so drab. He lifted his +white tired face; his eyes were burning from lack of sleep.</p> + +<p>“It’s from that thing they saw, Polly—that gray-white aëro. Nothing +much has been said about it publicly, and I hope to Heaven they won’t +yet for awhile. But that’s where this disease came from—we’re sure of +that.”</p> + +<p>He sat up with a slight return of his old energy. “They’ve got to +annihilate this enemy! At once—it’s got to be done. They’ve been +saying: ‘We’ve got them helpless, down there in the Lowlands. They +can’t harm us.’ Harm us? This is no warfare of the kind we’ve ever +known! Inhuman, unreasoning—what sort of men must these gray people +be! No attack—nothing military—no open warfare—nothing! Just +spreading a disease. There are women and children among those victims, +Polly—more women than men. It will wipe us out—it will mean the end +of the world for us all unless we can check it!”</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> + +<h3>REFUGEES OF THE LOWLANDS.</h3> + + +<p>Tad and I struggled upward into the tunnel-passage. The fact that with +Arturo and Nereid, and some two thousand of the Middge people, we at +last reached the surface I have already made evident. I need not detail +those weary, despairing days and weeks in the darkness. It may have +been a march of several hundred miles. I do not know. I would have said +it consumed a year, rather than those weeks.</p> + +<p>We came upon Nereid and Arturo within a few hours. The passage was +strewn with the Middge refugees. Out of the million in the abyss, +perhaps a hundred thousand actually got into the tunnel. And only two +thousand survived. We passed them hourly; families resting, encamped, +to take up again the burden of the march. We passed them dead, or +dying—burned and maimed at the tunnel-entrance, or before they got +into the tunnel—struggling on now, falling at last.</p> + +<p>The tunnel was heavy with gases. Sometimes, when we thought our last +choking breath had been drawn, side rifts would seem to bring us purer +air. We had started without equipment or food, or water, but there +were hundreds of loaded <i>arras</i> in the long line of refugees. We +very soon found one whose owner had succumbed. Arturo and Nereid, when +we overtook them, we found them well supplied. They had waited until +a wave of flame had surged to the tunnel-entrance. They had even gone +back there once; then despaired of us, and left.</p> + +<p>We heard, soon after we four were again together, a muffled, terrible +roar far away in the earth, and felt the tremble of it. It was the +earthquake under the Pacific, though we could no more than guess it +then. The tunnel shook; part of the roof near us fell, crushing a score +of the Middge. We saw then that behind us the tunnel was blocked. The +air ahead soon grew purer. No Middge could follow us, but those in +advance were in less distress. We made better time, but at that it +seemed an endless struggle.</p> + +<p>Weeks of August’s close, and of September. We lost all possible track +of them. We did not know until afterward that it was probably September +29 when the first pitiful little vanguard of our party reached the new +world.</p> + +<p>The food and water were running low. The <i>arras</i> had all given out +and were abandoned. The changing air-pressures, the new quality of air, +affected us all somewhat, but the animals were stricken, a few at a +time. We left them, pitifully breathless, gasping.</p> + +<p>There was one stage of the march where for what might have been a week +we were halted by a subterranean river torrent. We waited, helpless, +despairing. But the water in the cross passage into which our tunnel +abruptly ended, at last roared away. New air came to us, dank, with a +rotting, salt tang to it.</p> + +<p>We traveled, those final days, with the surviving Middge scientists. +They told us that they had a weapon; a huge affair, for long range +operation. It was not assembled. But when we reached the surface—</p> + +<p>Ah, how many times in those days of struggle we voiced the thought: +“When we reach the surface!” To come out upon a friendly earth. To +join, with this weapon, the earth’s armies against the Gians. “When we +reach the surface—”</p> + +<p>“Why,” said Tad, “everything will be all right then. What can those +Gian women and men do against our earth? Say, what is this Middge +weapon?”</p> + +<p>Good old Tad! His spirits never flagged. There were moments when his +cheering voice to the Middge—the laugh which they could understand +though his words were foreign—helped many a despairing family to get +up and plod on farther.</p> + +<p>Nereid did not know what the Middge weapon was. They did not care to +talk about it now. But in the times of rest there was much talk of our +food and water supply. If it would only last us to the surface. Ah, +when we reached the blessed surface!</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>I think I shall never forget that moment when we struggled out into the +dim light of the Lowlands. I stood with Tad and Arturo, half blinded. +But of them all only we three had eyes that would adjust to the light. +We stood in a cave-mouth, seemingly upon a mountainside. There were a +score of ramifying caves beneath us. The Middge were crowding up into +them. The light! The blessed, frightening daylight! We could hear the +Middge babbling about it. Safety at last!</p> + +<p>We three stood, with our pupils contracting—and at last we could see. +It must have been nearly noon; through a rift in the dark clouds the +sun momentarily showed.</p> + +<p>Our blessed sun! Here again in our own world! But we stared, +unbelieving. Foul mist hung about us, thick with the heavy, choking +smell of ooze and slime. Beneath us, a thousand feet or more, a land +surface lay in a tumbled mass of black crags. A river flowed tumultuous +in a gorge. Behind us a great slimy plateau spread into the misty +distance. Ooze caked by the daylight heat lay red and black upon it. +Dark peaks, rounded and blurred, showed looming against the far horizon.</p> + +<p>Our world? It seemed perhaps a lunar landscape. No, for there were +clouds and dank mist enshrouding everything. A strange world, an +infernal landscape, not of this planet, nor even of the moon.</p> + +<p>Disappointment, such as I had never known before, flooded me. Not a +living being to be seen here in all this desolation! Why, I could seem +to see out over this tumbled waste for hundreds of miles! Safety here, +with our food and water nearly gone? Why, we were as far from safety as +any ancient explorer of the Polar icefields, standing lost upon a berg, +surveying the desolation around him!</p> + +<p>In a chain of dank slimy grottos close under the surface of this +plateau-like elevation, the Middge clustered to await our communication +with earth civilization. In a score of dim caves, the families grouped +together, setting up small shelters of garments and robes, like tents, +for privacy. The night came. Small glowing hand torches sprang with +points of dim light. Strange encampment of struggling humans, here in +the new world, waiting to be rescued!</p> + +<p>Arturo, Tad and I came to prominence. The Middge leaders were already +working on their war equipment. With Nereid for interpreter, we were +questioned on where we were, and what was best to do. But we did not +know where we were! This had been the Pacific Ocean. No islands were +near here; in all this desolate panorama there had been no mountain top +with any sign of verdure.</p> + +<p>Could we travel on foot, here on this land? We did not know. A +mile or two a day, perhaps; climbing the crags, descending into +valleys, avoiding mountain torrents, picking our way over the caked +ooze—struggling as men on foot have struggled over Polar icefields!</p> + +<p>But in which direction? How far to the nearest mountain top where +people might be living? We could not say.</p> + +<p>“But one thing,” said Tad, “they’ll be planes flying over here. We must +go up in the daylight, many of us on top where they can see us.”</p> + +<p>We built, that next day, a tent of white for a signal, and crowded +around it. The Middge came up, blinded by the light.</p> + +<p>A plane went overhead. We could barely see it, just for a moment in a +rift in the clouds. It seemed ten thousand feet above us, at least. +It was a familiar model, we recognized its shape. But a bomb came +whistling down. Our little tent was gone. A score of the Middge lay +maimed and dying.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>It was then that Nereid thought she had communicated with Polly, +sending her desperate plea: “<i>Don’t let them attack us!</i>”</p> + +<p>She was sure she had reached Polly. And all that day she struggled to +communicate further. The night came—our second night in the Lowlands. +Nereid had a little tent to herself against the wall of one of the +caves. Arturo, Tad, and I had a shelter near it. We had discussed the +possibility of organizing a party to start on foot for help.</p> + +<p>A week or two here, even with the starvation rations upon which the +encampment now was put, and our plight would be desperate. Nereid +opposed it—she still thought she could direct Polly to bring help to +us. And she believed, that evening sitting alone in her tent, that she +had reached Polly again. But she said nothing to us.</p> + +<p>It may have been midnight. Arturo and Tad were asleep. Exhausted with +weeks of marching, this inactivity here was needed by us all. I had +been sleeping soundly. I do not know what awakened me—chance perhaps, +or fate.</p> + +<p>I went to the flap of our little tent. The cave was in darkness; the +fantastic tents, with a dim light here and there, were silent.</p> + +<p>I saw a figure moving, recognized it for Nereid. She had evidently +just come from her tent. I was alert at once; but instead of speaking +to her, I drew back, watching. There was a furtiveness about her; she +moved swiftly, silently across the grotto, her hair and veils floating +as she walked.</p> + +<p>In a moment, I followed. She was headed into one of the small tunnels +that led a few yards upward to the open plateau. I lost sight of her +for a time; but when I was out upon the upper level I saw her again. +She moved along the rocks cautiously but swiftly and came to the edge +of a cliff that fronted the distant void of the abyss. I stood watching.</p> + +<p>It was dark enough, so that she could see comfortably. The clouds hung +low over the plateau. The rounded rock spires, caked with ooze and +slime, were dark sentinels in the gloom. The further distance was solid +black; but in a moment moonlight broke through, edging the naked black +rocks with a green-white glow.</p> + +<p>In a hollow down the precipitous slope, a tangled rotting mass of sea +vegetation lay slumped and limp in a dark pool of water which was +trapped in a basin of the rock. And miles away and a thousand feet +below where I stood, the moonlight slanted down through the clouds +in a great white shaft and fell upon a giant caldron of inky water, +painting it with white fire.</p> + +<p>Against the moonlight Nereid flung a protecting hand to her eyes. She +sat on a rock. The clouds closed over us; the scene was dark when I +reached her.</p> + +<p>“Nereid!”</p> + +<p>She started, alarmed. Then relaxed. “Oh, it is you, Jeff.”</p> + +<p>I sat beside her. “What are you doing up here?”</p> + +<p>She hesitated, but she answered softly:</p> + +<p>“I am very glad you came. I was frightened, to be up here alone. But I +thought I wanted to be alone. Polly is coming! I have reached her—I am +sure of it.”</p> + +<p>“Polly!”</p> + +<p>“Yes. With help for us. This morning I reached her.” She put a timid +hand on my arm. “You, Jeff my friend—you know I am trying my best. I +think I reached her this morning. And later, a few hours ago, I think +she understood me again. She is coming—”</p> + +<p>If only she were! My heart was beating fast. “But not alone, Nereid? +She isn’t coming alone?”</p> + +<p>“No. With others. I think she laughed when she told me there would be +others.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“But you don’t know where we are—how could you tell her where to come?”</p> + +<p>I stood up. Polly, with a searching party, here in this abyss—“But +Nereid, we must show some light.” I stared up at the impenetrable dark +mist hanging in a low ceiling above us. Nereid stood with me. She said +anxiously:</p> + +<p>“Do you think there is a chance? I tried to describe these cliffs, this +level top, the cave mouths. It was two hours ago, I think, when she +said she was starting. Jeff, would she be that near here? Could any one +fly from your cities nearest here in a few hours?”</p> + +<p>Polly, down here on one of the mountain-tops which had been a South Sea +island? It was possible. And the Marshall group, I thought, ought to be +within a thousand miles to the east, and the Carolines not much more +than half that to the south. Mountain ranges towering above the clouds +of these desolate Lowlands. Was Polly on her way down from them to seek +us?</p> + +<p>“Nereid, we must show a light as a guide.”</p> + +<p>She produced a globe from her robe. Futile little spot of radiance! We +held it aloft.</p> + +<p>An hour or more passed. We sat on the rock, with the light between us. +Who could ever see us, tiny figures down in this barren, cloud-swept +waste?</p> + +<p>There was not a sound; a heavy thick silence hung over the Lowlands, +with just a sullen murmur floating up from the tumbling water of the +lower levels to the north.</p> + +<p>“Nereid, you’d better go down, I’ll stay here—”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>Another hour? We heard nothing. But from over us presently there seemed +movement. A blur in the cloud-bank; a blurred, nearing shape, hovering.</p> + +<p>I leaped to my feet. Something quite close over us, stolen upon us. No +earthly airplane! A long, narrow, gray-white shape!</p> + +<p>Nereid gave a little cry. I gripped her; started to run. But too late. +From above a light darted down in a narrow beam. It seized us, held +and pulled and sucked us upward. I did not lose consciousness. I clung +to Nereid. We were whirled, gasping, through the air. The gray shape +magnified, gigantic at our heads. Hands and arms came reaching down; +clutched us; the light vanished.</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/illus6.jpg" alt=""> + <div class="caption"> + <p><i>The ray seized them, held them, pulled them relentlessly up into the air.</i></p> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<p>We were hauled, as swimmers are hauled from the sea, over a low rail +and flung to the aëro’s deck, with the tall gray figure of Rhana +imperiously surveying us.</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> + +<h3>WHITE SHAPES IN THE MOONLIGHT.</h3> + + +<p>We were upon that gray-white aëro which, like a ghost, swept at the +Zero-level along the edge of the Australian Highlands. We had been +upon it, and in the encampment of the Gians, some two weeks. The aëro +had only been observed in Australia—the seeds of the new disease were +first scattered there and nowhere else. But the aëro had made a far +longer voyage—a strange, weird exploration through these vast new +Lowlands!</p> + +<p>It was Rhana’s desire to survey this world she was about to conquer. +She avoided the Highlands where an attack upon the aëro might be made. +She had wanted, if I were still alive, to capture me in advance of the +active warfare she contemplated. She believed I would be with Nereid.</p> + +<p>The Gian encampment was located within some hundred miles of where the +Middge emerged. The Gians were south, across a gradual rise toward the +Caroline Mountain chain. Rhana had been alert to receive any possible +thoughts from Nereid. It was Rhana whom Nereid had reached—Rhana, +quick to simulate Polly—Rhana, laughing ironically and saying she +would not come alone.</p> + +<p>She was triumphant to have me; and pleased to have Nereid, whom later +she would use as envoy to the Middge when our surface nations were +conquered. And myself—she told me characteristically when first +we were drawn aboard the aëro. Its twenty feet of width held small +cubbies, like cabins. I was taken from Nereid and thrust into one of +them alone. Rhana came presently to see me. She sat beside me.</p> + +<p>“So we are together again? That is very good, Jeff Grant.”</p> + +<p>Cool, ironical smile. I could not forget that last time I had seen her, +in the roaring gate-house when she had struck Entt down.</p> + +<p>I drew away from her. We were rushing through the black mist. The dark +panorama of the Lowlands was spread outside the cubby bull’s-eye.</p> + +<p>“What do you want of me?” I demanded.</p> + +<p>She told me tersely. This world of mine was strange to her. There was +much that I could tell her about it. I could be of great help to her, +if I would.</p> + +<p>She toyed with her dark-lensed eyeglasses. “If you wish to help me, +Jeff—”</p> + +<p>So strange, her caressing use of my single name! I think she was barely +aware of that caress in her tone. She leaned toward me as I shrank away.</p> + +<p>“So? You are afraid? I thought the big man was different.” It was +not irony this time. Her dark eyes glowed. She touched my arm, and I +held tense. “You interest me, Jeff—” Then she sat back, away from +me. “I would not frighten you.” She added quietly, but there was a +sudden sweep of emotion back of it—unreasoning creature of moods and +passions: “Can’t you guess, Jeff? I want your regard—I want you to +admire me, respect me. I want your love. I frighten you? Oh, that I +would not do—”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Her smoldering eyes held me. Her voice was gentle. Life has different +standards. To her, man was a quarry to be pursued. She must not +frighten me!</p> + +<p>She added: “You could have guessed that I loved you. It comes, this +thing that is love, so suddenly. You do not speak—”</p> + +<p>I managed, “I did not guess—” This gray, imperious feline +creature—suddenly amorous now, I could not doubt. But the change from +love to hate could be swift. I repeated cautiously, “I did not guess.”</p> + +<p>“But now, Jeff, you know, and I am going to conquer this big world up +here. I am a masterful woman, Jeff—most powerful. I want you to think +of that—you who are so big, so strong and beautiful of body—a man +so worthy to rule this world with me. You could help me, Jeff—the +inspiration I would have with you beside me—”</p> + +<p>She paused. I began: “Why—”</p> + +<p>“Do not answer now. You are frightened. I would not confuse you. I +want, some time, not now, your love.”</p> + +<p>“Why—” There was nothing I dared say. Her mood, exactly as I feared, +turned suddenly.</p> + +<p>“This girl of the Middge I found you with!” She rasped it out. “You +love her?”</p> + +<p>“No,” I said, alarmed for Nereid.</p> + +<p>Rhana’s gaze searched me. “You are lying! Oh, but why should I think +that little white creature could interest you? She amounts to nothing.”</p> + +<p>“She loves my friend,” I said, “not me. Nor I her.” I decided to chance +it; I might perhaps bargain. “You want me to help you, Rhana, to tell +you what I can about this world of mine? If I do it will you treat me +kindly?”</p> + +<p>She smiled gently. “Why should I harm you? I want your admiration for +what I do—for the woman, the leader that I am. A woman of destiny, as +you call it, Jeff.”</p> + +<p>“And this little white girl—this Middge we named Nereid—you will +guard her safely? Because I ask you to, for the sake of my friend?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>She stood up suddenly, as though my insistence annoyed her. “We will +talk again. You have nothing to fear.”</p> + +<p>She left the cubby. At the door a Gian came and stood to guard me.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>I was allowed a fair liberty, here in the gray-white aëro. I moved +where I pleased with increasing freedom, though always with a watchful +man of the Gians beside me. Often I was with Nereid; there were times +when we could snatch brief moments of talk, but always with watchful +eyes upon us.</p> + +<p>The aëro, with its length of two hundred feet or more, was decked +over with a long, low narrow cabin, which was divided into many small +compartments, with a narrow passage down the center. A few of the rooms +occupied the entire width of the vehicle; one such was in the bow-peak, +with the operating mechanisms; behind that, another which was Rhana’s +cabin.</p> + +<p>There was a narrow outer deck the length of the ship on both sides. +Amidships was a room of weapons and apparatus for war. But this I was +never allowed to approach. I think that the mechanism for spreading the +disease germs was here. I never saw it.</p> + +<p>The vehicle, with its glowing side pontoons and its faintly luminous +spar projecting from the bow, quite evidently operated similarly to the +ones we had flown in the abyss. There were aboard perhaps fifty Gians. +The men did what heavy, unskilled labor was needed and prepared the +meals. There were women at the controls.</p> + +<p>Besides Rhana, I remembered having seen but one of these Gians +before—that man, Bhool! He came sniveling up to me; and as though +I did not know the full extent of his treachery, like a proud child +he told me. He had murdered Fen; had been there in the house when we +arrived; heard our plans to go to the gate-house; had hurried to tell +Rhana. She had made her hasty trip to thwart us.</p> + +<p>He ended: “Bhool is very clever? You know it?”</p> + +<p>I cuffed him; and met Rhana’s approving, tolerant smile.</p> + +<p>How far we flew on this trip over the Lowlands I could not say. Or +at what speed? I would have guessed it to be fully eight hundred, or +even a thousand, miles an hour. The daylight came; we settled into the +depths and waited for the light to pass. I was closely guarded in a +cabin made dark so my guard could see. And when night came we started +again.</p> + +<p>In all the swirl of mist and vague moonlight, it was a flight unreal, +unearthly. I kept my general sense of direction, from the sun, and at +night from the glimpses of the moon. I wondered how these women could +pretend to navigate, especially an unknown region. But I saw they had +curious instruments, and were making charts of what was passing beneath +us.</p> + +<p>I asked Rhana.</p> + +<p>“We do not know where we are going,” she said. “But to come back the +same way is very easy.”</p> + +<p>In general we flew, at first, to the north, I imagine at about three +thousand feet below the Zero-level. Occasional rises lifted above us. +The water was always far below—for a time there was an unbroken sea +down there—one of the great mid-Pacific deeps. Or again, a tumbled +land of black crags; ravines, gullies, with river torrents of water +surging everywhere. We reached the fallen Polar Sea with its jammed +masses of ice; the heights of the Aleutians loomed ahead of us and we +turned back.</p> + +<p>There was a night when I fancied we were flying in a gigantic circle +over the Central Pacific Basin. A broad, level stretch of water, far +down—receding but still many hundreds of fathoms deep. I saw what +might have been the sharp, jagged rise up to the Hawaiian Peaks.</p> + +<p>Verdured mountain-tops were up there, unreal, fairylike in the +moonlight, towering above the Zero-level, above the dank, evil mists of +the Lowlands; a purple sky up there, with the mountain peaks standing +into it; the stars, and the white clouds of a world serene. We avoided +the heights. I had even fancied I saw the lights of a plane up there.</p> + +<p>We stopped at the Gian encampment—I think about the time it was first +discovered by the searching earth planes. None had seen us in our low, +night flights; and in the daylight stops Rhana had always chosen places +well obscured, far in the depths.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>We made a second flight—the one to the Highlands of Australia—where +first the earth saw us. Nereid and I were not aware of Rhana’s purpose +then; not until afterward, in the Gian encampment, did we learn it.</p> + +<p>I had, that second flight, a clear view of the topography of the +Lowlands in this section. We came from the south, that night of October +15. What had before been called the Coral Sea we saw as a great, +irregularly circular valley, a giant caldron surrounded everywhere by +the Highlands. It was empty of any expanse of water save a few mountain +torrents tumbling down its slopes or an occasional shallow lagoon, +trapped in the rocks, drying by evaporation.</p> + +<p>It was my studied policy now to win Rhana’s confidence. I told her +always what I could of the geography of the regions through which +we flew. The caldron of the Coral Sea barred us dangerously by its +Highlands. I turned us northeast. At a depression of perhaps a thousand +feet beneath the Zero-level we passed to the right of the Solomon rise +and came again over the lower levels of an open abyss.</p> + +<p>We stayed high. I think now that what might be termed the “ocean level” +was down fifteen or twenty thousand feet below Zero. Certainly I saw no +evidence of the sea here. The Japan Trench might still be full. I did +not doubt but that the great Nero Deep off Guam was still and probably +always would be a great salt lake ten thousand feet or more in depth.</p> + +<p>Sweeping north, we saw under us the Caroline rise coming up. We +passed through a broad valley of the Caroline Mountains. The verdured +island-tops occasionally showed. I did not know it then, but since the +discovery of the Gian encampment by the world, the Carolines were +deserted by most of their inhabitants—all who could get away had +already fled.</p> + +<p>Beyond the mountains here, the Lowland floor again sank. A broken, +desolate plain lay down there, blurred with rising mist. We crossed +it; and soon it began rising again to the ridge we now call the Moon +Mountains. None rose nearly to the Zero-level. A volcanic region, +starkly grim with its inky black shadows, and weird patches of +moonlight that sometimes filtered down.</p> + +<p>It lay strewn like wreckage; here, undoubtedly, some great cataclysm of +nature had in by-gone ages convulsed it, leaving the strewn crags and +bowlders; pits like black holes, roundly punched by some giant finger; +precipitous cliffs; ravines, narrow and deep.</p> + +<p>But the whole, from this southern approach, was steadily rising. On the +top of the ridge, still many thousands of feet below Zero, the Gians +were encamped. Porous, honeycombed volcanic mountains these were, like +a great oblong sponge, perched here. They contained caves, grottos, +passages and tunnels of every size and character—a vast catacomb.</p> + +<p>It lay, I think, some thirty miles in east and west extent along the +top of the ridge; and ten miles north and south. Beyond it, northward, +the mountains and the catacombs ended in a descending northward slope a +hundred miles over a broken floor to where the Middge at a still lower +level, were intrenched.</p> + +<p>The grottos, as I first saw them, presented a darkly sinister, wholly +unearthly scene. They held fifty thousand of the gray Gians. Already +it had the appearance of a fantastic underground city. Hundreds of the +dark caverns were occupied by men, women and children in crude interior +shelters. But work was going on. Small stone houses were being built. +Lights were erected. The openings to the upper air—this was all near +the surface—were shaded against the periods of daylight. A scene of +sputtering lights, grotesque shadows—unearthly.</p> + +<p>A subterranean stream of fresh water had been found. The Gians seemed +well supplied with food. There was a cavern of war equipment. The army +was organized—an army of men, drilled and led by the women. There was +a broad passage that rose to the outer air in which I saw three other +aëros such as the one Rhana was using.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>I slept in a newly-built, small stone house, always closely guarded. +Nereid was with two of the Gian women. The encampment slept during the +daylight periods. There were guards then, with heavily shaded glasses, +at all the many upward passages. In the night, the activity went on.</p> + +<p>Neither Nereid nor I were able to learn many details. No one would talk +to us, except occasionally Rhana. And our pseudo-liberty was always +closely watched.</p> + +<p>I wondered what could be the plans of these Gian women against +our great nations. I could imagine, once our existence here was +discovered, that the earth armies could drive us out of these grottos +and exterminate us. Yet there was about these women an aspect of +confidence. Was it ignorance of what our civilized millions could do in +warfare? What weapons did these Gians have to make them so confident?</p> + +<p>I said once to Rhana: “If you want me to help you—why not tell me your +own plans? These nations you are going to conquer are very powerful.”</p> + +<p>She told me abruptly. I sat, speechless, stricken, and stared at her. +Ah, the warfare of our civilized millions! I could see now how readily +it might go down into defeat against this enemy inhuman! Spreading +broadcast a fatal, incurable, uncontrollable disease!</p> + +<p>She did not seem to notice my horror. She told me many things of the +past; how long the Gians had planned this; how, when a year ago the +gates had been opened a trifle, she had thought to come with her army +up through the water. That menace at Maui, which we had seen from the +Dolphin. But she had found it impractical—and had planned this present +method.</p> + +<p>It was the longest talk I ever had with Rhana. It was, I think, about +the night of October 17. Nereid interrupted us. She came, forcing her +guards to let her join us, vehemently protesting as they tried to hold +her.</p> + +<p>Rhana frowned. “You make a disturbance?” She said it in English; and +Nereid answered the same way.</p> + +<p>“I do not! They tried to hold me. I—I have communicated with some one +I know—she—”</p> + +<p>“That girl you call Polly?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>I was on my feet. “Nereid! Think what you say!”</p> + +<p>But her swift glance reassured me. She was careful.</p> + +<p>She said: “Yes, I have reached her. She has been trying to reach me.”</p> + +<p>There had never been, I knew, an hour when Nereid had not been flinging +her thoughts toward Polly. And now, at last, Polly’s thoughts—a +message—had come clearly back. The world was alarmed. The authorities +wanted—before they attacked this enemy—to talk about it. Polly was +trying to arrange a meeting. The United States proposed to send an +unarmed plane with a white banner of truce to a designated place over +the Lowlands.</p> + +<p>I could visualize it. I had met our kindly, earnest President. I +knew well his ideals, his aspirations to instill in humanity that +unselfishness, that altruism it never has had, and never will. I knew +also his closest friend, the gray-haired British minister. And the +Anglo-Saxon director of foreign relations.</p> + +<p>I could imagine these three—highest types of our great +civilization—in conference now over this sudden menace. I could +imagine them saying: “These people are human like ourselves. +Misguided, that is all. Why should they attack us in this fiendish +fashion? Why force us to make war upon them?”</p> + +<p>Unanswerable arguments of idealism! The earth with all these new +Lowlands, had room for all. Why should one or another set of humans +strive to kill, or to be killed? Unanswerable.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Rhana listened quietly. “So? They are frightened? They fear me already? +That is good. Can you still talk with them, Nereid?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. I think so. I will try—if you will meet them.”</p> + +<p>“Of course, child. Tell them what they wish shall be done.”</p> + +<p>Calm, impressive, gray face. That hawklike profile, impassive, +unruffled. “Tell them, Nereid, I will do what they wish. I am glad I +have you now.” She just barely smiled. “You and Jeff will go with me to +this meeting—you are a good interpreter with your flying thoughts.”</p> + +<p>She made no effort to keep me from Nereid. “Tell me when you have +arranged it.” She strode away.</p> + +<p>“Nereid, is that true what you have told her?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“But not Polly—Polly isn’t coming? Tell her and Dr. Plantet not to +come. No use. Why, Nereid, she might hold them here—keep Polly away +from here.”</p> + +<p>“The foreign director will come. Oh, Jeff, do you think it will be of +any use? I want it to be. I pray—I have prayed so much—to my God—to +Arturo’s whom he told me about—which is the same God.”</p> + +<p>She sat beside me. Poor little Nereid! The struggles through which we +had passed; the murder of her father—her people lost with their doomed +realm; the long fight to get upward into the daylight—it all had +changed her. She was pale and wan; always trembling, eager, earnest, +pathetically anxious to be of help.</p> + +<p>We were, for this moment, quite alone. She put her hand on my arm.</p> + +<p>“Jeff—I was thinking of Arturo. I have tried to reach him, but I +cannot. I wanted you to know. Did you know I love Arturo?”</p> + +<p>“Why, yes, Nereid.”</p> + +<p>“I think he loves me. We have never spoken of it. I just wanted to say +that if—if you ever get back to Arturo, safe out of all this—”</p> + +<p>She stammered, her voice broke, but she went on with a rush: “If you +are safe sometime with him and I—I am not, I want you just to tell him +that Nereid loved him. Will you do that? I want it very much—want him +to know what might have been for us—it seems so very beautiful, what +might be.”</p> + +<p>Dear little Nereid! I said quietly: “You are coming safely through it, +Nereid. Don’t think things like that.”</p> + +<p>She sighed. “Sometimes I wonder. You will tell him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. I will. But it’s nonsense!”</p> + +<p>I met her eyes. They had always seemed eyes with the green mystery and +romance of the sea in them. I had thought of that often; there was no +sea in the abyss of the Mound. I had spoken of it—her love for the +water—the way she swam. There was a river, by the City of the Mound, +and all the joy of her girlhood was found in its murmuring water.</p> + +<p>And now the sea was gone from our world up here. But still, she could +have a river. I met her eyes. The sea was gone from them now as it +was from our world. Its dancing light; the sparkle that Arturo had +described as she swam for him those first nights in the pool of the +island cave. Her eyes were worn and dark now with trouble, sorrow, +apprehension.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell him, Nereid. But it’s nonsense, because you’ll tell him +yourself.”</p> + +<p>I pictured, while she clung to me, our beautiful world of stars and +moonlight for her and Arturo. “You shall live by a river, little +Nereid—sparkling silver water with the moonlight on it. You and +Arturo.”</p> + +<p>And the wistful thought was in my mind: “And you, Jeff Grant, with +Polly!”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>I have read of those ancient times when a party of explorers often was +stranded and lost in the unknown polar wastes. Two or three of its +members, sometimes, would leave the others, and try, desperately to +reach civilization. So it was with Tad and Arturo, there in the Middge +camp after Nereid and I had so mysteriously disappeared in the night. +They waited for a time, hoping for our return. But we did not come. +Food and water were giving out. The Middge soon would be in desperate +plight.</p> + +<p>With Nereid out there as interpreter, Arturo and Tad had difficulty +talking with the Middge leaders. And soon they began feeling like +outsiders, aliens. The Middge were busy with their activities, but +Arturo and Tad were made to feel that they were not wanted in that +grotto where the war equipment was being assembled.</p> + +<p>“They seem resentful of us,” said Arturo. “I don’t understand it.” +Resentful, almost suspicious.</p> + +<p>But Tad thought it perhaps natural enough. Their desperate position in +this inhospitable world of the Lowlands.</p> + +<p>“And don’t forget,” said Tad, “the first thing that happened here. Down +comes a bomb and kills a dozen or so of them. Our people did that to +them, Arturo. How would you feel?”</p> + +<p>With the recurring daily periods of blinding daylight the Middge seemed +disinclined to venture from the caves. But Tad and Arturo were aware +that they had sent an exploring party back underground.</p> + +<p>There came a day, while the camp was sleeping, that Arturo and Tad +decided to leave it. If they could reach civilization, they would send +help back. They made packs of a few belongings; a supply of food and +water. They slipped quietly away; out to the mouth of their cave; +clambered down the slope into the desolate barren wastes.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“Tad, look! Look up there!”</p> + +<p>They had been wandering for several days and nights—covered with ooze +and slime now, torn and bleeding with stumbling, falling on the rocks. +How far they had gone they had no idea; traveling, they calculated, +generally eastward. There were a few island mountain-tops, they +thought, between here and the great Marshall Rise. It was soon not a +journey, but a desperate wandering, with mountain streams to avoid; +cliffs to descend, to climb again when the valley laboriously had been +crossed; mud, sometimes like quicksand, upon which they crawled. Dank, +hot days, often with blinding sunlight; dank, cold nights with the +black noisome fog settling around them.</p> + +<p>Arturo was burning with fever now. They were both gaunt, haggard.</p> + +<p>“Tad, look! Look up there!”</p> + +<p>It seemed about sunset, though of that they could never be sure. +The sun was gone down behind some distant upstanding rim. There was +sunlight on the white clouds of the heights, but in the abyss the deep +purple shadows of night had long since gathered. There was sunlight +still on the distant domes; a waterfall, halfway down, gleamed like a +white veil; but the crags and tumbled land beneath it were grim and +dark.</p> + +<p>Tad and Arturo stood gazing up into the fading daylight. A white-winged +plane was slowly circling, up near the Zero-level and five miles or so +north of them. It came nearer, like a great white bird, soaring. The +sunlight up there edged it with yellow and red. A long white banner +streamed from it, waving with its forward motion. Silent, soaring white +bird, it circled, and went slowly back northward.</p> + +<p>The mists of the Lowlands were not yet gathered. The scene was clear +to Tad and Arturo as they stood down on the dark floor. Breathless, +awe-struck; a silent drama was beginning up there.</p> + +<p>The plane with the white banner was alone. But far above it, off in the +northern distance, a speck showed close under the white clouds, several +thousand feet above the Zero-level. A speck; another earth plane, +taking no part—like Arturo and Tad, just watching.</p> + +<p>For a time the white banner of truce circled alone. And then, as the +night gathered and deepened, another shape appeared, wingless, long and +narrow, and gray-white.</p> + +<p>The sunlight soon was gone up there, the yellow glow merged to the +silver of the moon—a full moon, still below the eastern horizon of +the Lowlands. But it caught and painted with its silver the fluttering +white banner; the narrow, wingless aëro glowed in it, unreal as a ghost.</p> + +<p>The two white shapes neared each other. The wingless aëro stopped dead, +poised. The white banner, fluttering its peace offering, its message of +humanity, approached slowly.</p> + +<p>Tad and Arturo stood gazing, breathless. Then suddenly stricken. Why, +what was this! What—What—They stared, unbelieving, clutching each +other.</p> + +<p>Drama, tragedy, so silent up there in the moonlight over the darkly +spreading wastes of the abyss!</p> + +<p>They stared. And presently when it was over, they started forward, +running.</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> + +<h3>THE CRIMSON RAINBOW.</h3> + + +<p>“You shall interpret for me, child Nereid, if we wish to talk at a +distance.” Rhana stood before us. “And you, Jeff Grant, are you ready? +You shall see me, the great woman conqueror!”</p> + +<p>She was garbed rather differently now. At first I did not understand +the reason. Ah, but I was soon to know! The same sheathlike body +shield; same type of cloak; same grotesque metal headdress. But on her +gray bare limbs a strip of flexible metal was fastened, hinged at the +knee to bend as she walked; a metal plate like a broad collar was on +her neck and shoulders. The chains that usually dangled from her wrists +were gone. Along her arms, as on her legs, were strips of gray metal, +wound, it seemed, with tiny white wire.</p> + +<p>She stood regarding me with impassive face. “You are ready, Jeff Grant?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>She moved away. I thought as she walked, that her arms were joined to +her body-shield by folds of black fabric.</p> + +<p>It was late afternoon. Against the fading daylight Rhana wore +dark-lensed glasses. She offered a pair to me, but I refused them. She +adjusted a pair on Nereid. Strange woman! Impassive, expressionless +now; calmly imperturbable. Yet within her there was that obvious +vanity. I should see her triumph; she wished even Nereid to witness it.</p> + +<p>We boarded the aëro. A crowd of Gian women stood silently in the +passage and watched us off. We lifted gently; moved forward, up and +into the afternoon twilight of the Lowlands.</p> + +<p>We were all in the forward control room. There seemed no one aboard +save us who were here. Nereid and I, and Rhana; and two Gian women, and +two men. One of the men was Bhool. He had no glasses. He sat crouched +in a corner, shading his eyes, and did not speak. Occasionally Rhana +issued him some gruff order. He moved to obey, and stumbled in the +light.</p> + +<p>The others all wore the glasses. The two women were at the controls; +the other man stood alert with a weapon upon Nereid and me.</p> + +<p>The control room was about twenty feet square and ten feet high to its +curved cabin roof. It occupied the full width of the aëro, except for +the narrow deck which flanked it on both sides. There were several wide +transparent window panes.</p> + +<p>Looking forward to where the bowsprit glowed luminous ahead of us was a +broad streamline window, V-shaped.</p> + +<p>The controls were there on a table—a row of small switches and +domelike buttons, with an array of strange instruments of navigation on +a board over them.</p> + +<p>To one side, in the front pane, a projector was mounted, a bowl-like +black projector with a grid of wires across its face. Its mechanism +stood separate on a table near it—a range-finder like a small +telescope swung in a universal; dials, and levers, and a coil, with +wires to a storage tank that lay along the wall.</p> + +<p>It was a short flight—we had not far to go. My heart was unreasonably +pounding as I sat by Nereid, watching and waiting. The details of the +meeting had been carefully arranged; there could be, Nereid was sure, +no error. A lone, unarmed plane with a white banner to meet us at the +Zero-level. The foreign minister would take off from it in a small +helicopter and descend to us. He would come aboard, at Rhana’s mercy, +trusting to her honor.</p> + +<p>The world would offer every conciliation to her; land should be hers, +for her people to live here in our world, at peace with us. There would +be, when the meeting took place, another earth plane in the far upper +distance. It would carry Dr. Plantet, Polly and a corps of observers +with a telescopic image-finder by which our world would see in the +mirrors this friendly meeting. Propaganda to insure a friendly public +spirit, so that the new race could come and settle and be welcomed.</p> + +<p>Nereid had been very earnest. “Do you understand all that I say?”</p> + +<p>And Rhana had said: “Yes, of course,” with impassive face and a tone +devoid of any feeling.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>We flew away from the setting sun, upward in a long slant toward the +Zero-level. The control room was silent. Rhana sat alone to one side. +Bhool crouched in a corner. The two Gian women were intent at their +instruments. Near the center of the room Nereid and I sat together, +with our guard watching us.</p> + +<p>The windows were broad and clear. The abyss moved past us, their gaunt, +rounded cliffs moving backward and dropping away as we mounted. To the +west, high above our level, a golden glow marked the setting sun. It +was behind us, and we faced a silver night, moonlight streaming above +the dark elevations in the murky distance.</p> + +<p>Occasionally Nereid would whisper to me. “It will be all right, Jeff?” +A hope, a prayer. But I noticed that she was very watchful, her gaze +roving the cabin, remarking all its details.</p> + +<p>Once Rhana turned. “Nereid, child, do you hear from them now?”</p> + +<p>“No. But I am sure they are coming.”</p> + +<p>At last we saw ahead of us, a thousand or two thousand feet above us, +the plane with its streaming banner. It circled like a giant bird, +with motionless outspread wings. The gold of the sun and the silver of +the rising moon mingled upon it. But the yellow faded; it soon turned +silver, ghostlike.</p> + +<p>An added tenseness had come to all of us in the cabin. The goggled +women at the controls looked questioningly for Rhana’s orders. Our +flight slackened; we hovered, with the plane almost over us. Its banner +fluttered, a long silver streamer in the moonlight. The shadows of the +abyss gathered beneath us; the cabin, to my eyes, was dim; moonlight +came in the side windows and lay in white liquid pools on the floor; it +bathed the control table; it etched with silver lines the dark figures +of the two women sitting watchfully there.</p> + +<p>We were evidently just beneath the Zero-level; the abyss was a dark +void some ten or twelve thousand feet down to an undulating rocky +floor. I gazed up at the cabin ceiling. Through the transparent pane +there I could see the plane with its white banner. Slowly circling, +evidently making ready to put out its helicopter.</p> + +<p>Nereid whispered: “Did you see the newscasters’ aëro, as they call it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>I had seen it, indeed. The plane carrying Polly. It could still be +seen—a tiny dark speck up in the distant silver sky. Nereid said aloud +to Rhana:</p> + +<p>“There is the aërocar watching us.” Her voice was earnest, tense, +vibrating with her emotion. “You see it off there? This world watching +us, great Rhana—to see your friendly greeting—to welcome you—”</p> + +<p>Rhana moved toward us in the shadows with her soundless, catlike tread. +“So? Yes, I see it. You say they have instruments to see us clearly +from such a distance? That is very good.” Her tone was emotionless.</p> + +<p>She moved away like a gray shadow. For a moment I did not notice her. +My attention was fixed on the ghostly outlines of the plane over us. +It bore now a small light; in the glow I saw the helicopter in its +bracket; the figure of the kindly gray-haired foreign director—I +recalled him well—showed in the helicopter seat.</p> + +<p>My heart stopped, and then wildly plunged. Incredible, this that I was +seeing! From our cabin a light sprang upward. It glowed, narrowed to +a beam. It caught the plane up there. The fluttering white banner of +truce shriveled and burned. The plane rocked. It tilted; rocked and +swayed in the grip of the light.</p> + +<p>Incredible! I was on my feet with Nereid clinging to me in stupefied +horror. The Gian man sprang, a gray menacing shadow in the gloom of +the cabin—sprang and crouched between me and Rhana. His weapon was +leveled upon me. Rhana was bending tense over the projector mechanism. +It hissed, snapped and hummed with its current.</p> + +<p>The plane up there was rocking, struggling in the grip of the beam like +a wounded bird. Coming down.</p> + +<p>It only lasted an instant. Then Rhana snapped off the light. I stared, +transfixed with horror. The silver shape of the plane swayed crazily. +It was on fire; red tongues of flame licked at it. The light sprang +again; caught it; tilted it over—left it. The plane flopped in an arc, +righted, and flopped again. At our level now. Then below us. With its +crazy swoops the red-yellow flames streamed from it.</p> + +<p>Down—then I saw it whirl in a dive. A red-flaming torch, dropping, +spinning downward with a line of flame and smoke like a tail streaming +above it. Down—dwindling as it fell into the abyss. A tiny red spot +down in the darkness—a flaming falling torch. A soundless impact down +there, with a faint red glow where it lay.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>In the dark tenseness of our cabin Rhana’s voice rang out. Triumphant +now. “You see, Jeff Grant, how Rhana rules this world?”</p> + +<p>A minute. It had taken no more than a minute. Sixty seconds is +sometimes an eternity. I stood confused, my senses groping with the +shock of these whirling events.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Jeff!” Nereid’s voice; her hand plucking to turn me. I saw through +the side window, far off to the west where the sun had been golden, +but now there was only the purple night—saw a white flare puff like a +bomb. The Gian encampment was off there.</p> + +<p>Rhana’s voice came sharply. “What is that?”</p> + +<p>It was no Gian light-flare. She was surprised, and she rasped: “What is +that?”</p> + +<p>It caught little Nereid; confused with horror, she blurted: “The earth +attacking you—you have broken faith!”</p> + +<p>And then there was a red-yellow spot like a bursting shell in the +distant darkness. It seemed, after an interval, that we could hear very +faintly in the heavy air of the abyss, the muffled explosion.</p> + +<p>“You—have broken faith—”</p> + +<p>Amazement swept Rhana; amazement and a dawning wild anger. “Attacking? +Your earth dares attack—me?” She stood half crouching behind the Gian +man whose weapon was still levied at Nereid and me. “Attacking?” The +moonlight caught her hawklike gray face, showed it distorted now with +fury. “So? I will show them! Why, there will be millions of them dead +in another day—”</p> + +<p>She straightened; issued swift orders to the women at the controls. +Our aëro began rising. My thoughts whirled. Sixty seconds. It had +been enough time for that watching plane to radio Washington; and for +Washington to order its army, already assembled in the abyss, to the +attack. Another red explosion showed off there.</p> + +<p>We were rising swiftly. I whispered: “Nereid, what is she going to do?”</p> + +<p>“She—oh, Jeff, she’ll rush to the Highlands, find some great city, +loose the disease broadcast, pollute your great cities!”</p> + +<p>To-night, in one flight, spread death over the world. Thoughts are +swift-flying things. The red spot in the abyss where the plane had +fallen was still almost beneath us. Nereid was whispering to me +vehemently, but my thoughts flew afield.</p> + +<p>The observing plane with Polly and Dr. Plantet could never follow our +nearly thousand-mile-an-hour flight. A few hours in the moonlight over +the Highlands, loosing the germs of that foul disease, polluting the +air of our great cities! It would sweep our continents. What use if, in +her demoniac, unreasoning fury, Rhana was finally brought down? What +if our attacking army back there were able to annihilate the Gians? +They would drive the Gians out of the grottos in a few days, no doubt. +What of it? An uncontrollable plague would be sweeping our world, +bringing death to millions.</p> + +<p>But what was Nereid saying? Her vehement whispers penetrated my +consciousness; her fingers were digging into my arm.</p> + +<p>“That little coil, there at the edge of the control table—you see it? +I can get to it with a sudden leap. I know what that coil controls. If +I could tear it with my fingers—”</p> + +<p>The confusion of my thoughts dropped away. Death? There is a calmness +comes to one who finds death at hand. It seemed that all my thoughts +were sharpening—all my senses sharp and clear to hear Nereid’s +whispered words of death.</p> + +<p>“—tear it, rip it away. It controls the current in the side pontoons, +Jeff. If I break it, we will fall. You see? Fall the way the plane +fell—kill us all.”</p> + +<p>Was the burning plane still almost beneath us? An eternity passed in +these few whispering seconds.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“I’ll jump at the table, Jeff. You leap on the guard. He’ll fire at +you—he’ll forget me. You see?”</p> + +<p>“Nereid—death, now?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. We’ll fall—but Jeff, those millions of people!”</p> + +<p>Death? Why, Polly was in that distant plane—Polly! I would never see +her again.</p> + +<p>“Death, Nereid? You are right. Those millions of people or just us.”</p> + +<p>“Arturo—and your Polly—will remember us.”</p> + +<p>Her fingers seemed pressing a good-by. I answered it. Polly’s face was +shining in my mind. Good-by, Polly—</p> + +<p>“Jeff, when I start to move, you leap. Now—”</p> + +<p>“You wait, Nereid! A second after the guard has come after me! Your +best chance then.”</p> + +<p>The figure of Bhool had come crouching toward us. He shouted a warning: +“Rhana!”</p> + +<p>It may have distracted the guard. A rush of confusion was in the +moonlit cabin. I leaped low at the guard’s legs; the upward desperate +sweep of my arm struck his weapon; its stab missed me. Nereid’s leap +landed her at the control table. The two women and Rhana were upon her; +but her frantic clutching hands ripped and tore at the little coil. +The cabin seemed to lurch; the shafts of moonlight swayed. Through the +windows the abyss was turning over.</p> + +<p>We were falling, irrevocably. Every one in the cabin knew it. Death! +The strife among us ceased abruptly; the women cast Nereid away and +Bhool gave a long piercing scream of terror.</p> + +<p>Falling.</p> + +<p>But I saw Rhana spread her arms. Black folds of fabric hung like wings +from them to her body. The metal strips on her limbs and her metal +collar glowed green with a current in them. She flung open the door, +gripping its casement to steady herself. I heard her words clearly. “So +you wish death, you fools!”</p> + +<p>Realization swept me. She wore a device like the pontoons of this +aëro to protect her, as a parachute once protected the old-fashioned +aviator. She was on the deck.</p> + +<p>I recall snatching up Nereid, then leaped with her and caught Rhana +at the rail. We three went over into the uprushing void. Rhana was +struggling silently, and her arms flapped like a frantic bird. The wind +rushed up at us. An endless fall. Momentarily I was aware of a gray +shape like an arrow plunging past. A muffled, splintering crash came +from below, where the aëro lay, mangled metal upon the rocks.</p> + +<p>Rhana fought to cast me off, but I was far stronger. My arm was crooked +about her throat, and I held Nereid with the other. The glowing metal +on Rhana burned against my flesh. We fell—a fluttering gray bird with +two enemies clinging to it, pulling it down with their weight. Rhana’s +fingers tore at me futilely. I tightened my grip about her throat. I +think I recall a crack. Rhana went limp.</p> + +<p>A black surface of rock rushed up at us and struck us.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“Jeff! Come back to me.” Soft, whispered, woman’s voice; soft arms were +holding me. “Jeff, dear—please!”</p> + +<p>I struggled back to consciousness as though from an emptiness remote. +This was Polly’s voice; these were her arms. I murmured: “Polly, dear?”</p> + +<p>There was a dark confusion around me; but in the midst of it I lay +and knew that I was unhurt. And Polly was here, with me at last. Dr. +Plantet was examining me; he said I was unharmed. I remembered Nereid.</p> + +<p>“Polly, where is she?”</p> + +<p>Then Dr. Plantet’s voice: “She’s all right, Jeff. Here she is.”</p> + +<p>And Nereid’s voice: “Is he safe? I—I was afraid it had killed him.”</p> + +<p>All like a dream. My head was whirling with it, and my ears roared. But +I found myself sitting up, with Polly helping me. Dark rocks; heavy +air, making me gasp. Grim dark shadows, but the moonlight hung a great +silver canopy far overhead.</p> + +<p>Other figures were here, and Dr. Plantet’s plane stood near by. Its +engine smoked; its navigators were moving about it anxiously. A red +glow a mile away showed where the other plane had fallen. And nearer, +there was a tangled mass of gray-white metal. Rhana’s aëro.</p> + +<p>“No one left in it alive,” said some one. “We’ve been there.”</p> + +<p>And Rhana—she lay here on the rocks, broken, crumpled. I did not go to +look at her.</p> + +<p>“Neck broken,” said Dr. Plantet. “Broken when she struck.”</p> + +<p>I let it pass.</p> + +<p>A man came up. “I don’t know if we can get up out of here with that +engine. The Allen climber is the worst type for a depth like this.”</p> + +<p>“We’ll start.” Dr. Plantet helped me up. “Good enough, Jeff—you’re +fine. You want to start now, Smithby—we’re ready.”</p> + +<p>Nereid, unhurt and gently smiling, stood before me. My body, and +perhaps Rhana’s, had broken her fall. She murmured to Polly: “We said +good-by to you and Arturo up there. I’m so glad, Jeff, it did not have +to be good-by—not for you and Polly.”</p> + +<p>But Arturo?</p> + +<p>There was a distant shout. Two figures, half a mile away, were +clambering down the rocks, shouting weakly.</p> + +<p>They came. Our men from the plane here rushed out to meet them, and +came back, carrying the two bloodstained, tattered figures, covered +with mud and slime. Their torn and bleeding feet were wrapped with +cloth into bulky bundles.</p> + +<p>Reunion. A babble of voices. I stood confused, my ears still roaring, +my legs weak from the shock of the fall. I heard Tad’s cheery, tired +voice. I saw Arturo carried past me, and glimpsed his haggard white +face, his eyes burning with fever. The man set him down. Arturo stood; +he called; and I saw Nereid run like a child into his opened arms.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>One scene more—an hour later, as from the cabin of the Allen climber +we gazed down into the abyss. We had come up laboring. At the +Zero-level we soared to the west. The full moon was well above the +horizon behind us. Beneath, the Lowlands were white with patches of +moonlight, black with inky shadows. Ahead some twenty miles and a few +thousand feet down, the jagged ridge of the Moon Mountains lay white +and black, sharp-etched as a lunar landscape.</p> + +<p>The abyss was like a great deep bowl, rising everywhere to a dim high +horizon. To the south the tremendous slope rose toward the Carolines. +Our earth artillery had been sent there—a precautionary measure if the +truce should fail.</p> + +<p>We could see now the bombardment proceeding—the Essen fire-shells +rising in a tremendous hundred-mile arc, dropping, pounding the Moon +ridge; some of them releasing their gases.</p> + +<p>Over the ridge a covey of war-planes hung, directing the range. +Occasionally a light-flare was dropped. Bombs were dropping. We could +see them strike. The noise was like a muttering muffled thunder in the +distance.</p> + +<p>The Gians had evidently remained inactive. Then we saw their attacking +light-beams spring up. The planes scattered—some of them were caught. +But the slow bombardment from a hundred miles away, went methodically +on. It would take days.</p> + +<p>Smithby, at my elbow, babbled of the earth plans. And questioned me +avidly.</p> + +<p>With my information to give our authorities, we could land planes +closer; send in an army, fighting in the grottos—or perhaps the +artillery could pound this porous ridge to pieces in a week or two.</p> + +<p>Could the enemy retreat farther underground? We would have to stop that.</p> + +<p>If we could get the wind right, our gas-shells would fill those +caverns—smoke the enemy out like bees. And if we could get them out +into the daylight, blinded—</p> + +<p>Nereid’s cry silenced him. “The Middge! Look!”</p> + +<p>From the dark northern horizon a crimson light came in a beam. Light, +or fire? A beam of something, crimson as a blood-stream. It rose from +the northern distance; like a gigantic crimson jet of fluid it arched +up and fell. An arc, huge as a rainbow—a rainbow of blood across the +void of the abyss. Its distant source we could not see; its end fell +here upon the Mountains of the Moon and drenched them with its crimson.</p> + +<p>The planes overhead winged away; the earth bombardment stopped. We +approached within ten miles or so, with our image-finder trained upon +the scene.</p> + +<p>Smithby could never forget his mission; our snapping sender flashed out +the image to be caught and relayed over the world. Hundreds of millions +of people everywhere sat tense at their mirrors watching the silent red +scene.</p> + +<p>Rainbow of blood-light falling upon the dark Moon Mountain ridge. A +great round pool glowing at the end of the rainbow. The mountains were +melting; as though they were molds of black and white wax under the +heat of a pressure torch, they melted.</p> + +<p>The rainbow end moved over, slowly traveling along the ridge, melting +it away—wax fuming, bubbling and plowing in lava streams down the +slopes. The nearer end of the ridge where first the blood-light had +struck was a depression now—a great caldron where the ridge had been; +a caldron of fused molten rock, viscous, cooling from yellow-red to red +and then to black. Along the whole length of the ridge the blood-red +rainbow sprayed its penetrating heat.</p> + +<p>A silent, red inferno. And presently there were dim muffled sounds as +underground gases exploded; and the hiss of the licking gas flames.</p> + +<p>We could feel the heat. The glare rose and painted all the sky with +blood.</p> + +<p>Abruptly the crimson rainbow was gone. The Moon ridge shad vanished +into a boiling trench of lava, topped by hungry licking red-green +tongues of flame, with a huge black gas-cloud, rolling up.</p> + +<p>The fires cooled and died. The red turned slowly black. The trench +lay naked and dead in the moonlight—fused rock cooling into shapes +fantastic. A dead, empty trench with a gray mantle of ashes sifting +down upon it, to mark where the Gians had been.</p> + +<hr class="chap"> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXV.</h2> + +<h3>MURMURING RIVER.</h3> + + +<p>They call this now the era of our Greater World. This year that has +passed has brought us many strange things. I am not one to recount +them—the wonders of the Lowlands, the world’s changed climate; the +struggles, the reorganization, it seems, of everything which we held to +be standard.</p> + +<p>There is still chaos. I could not, with authority or understanding, +write of it. I have told the rôles which I and my friends had forced +upon us, that is all.</p> + +<p>For those many omissions which would have made my narrative more +logically clear, I ask indulgence.</p> + +<p>Books, in future years, will be written upon many angles of the +subject. The science of those two races who with enmity and smoldering +strife lived in the depths of our great earth—our scientists will +attempt to picture it. But that will be futile, no doubt. The Middge +have gone. From that very night when their crimson rainbow annihilated +their enemy, they have never been seen.</p> + +<p>Strange race! Our scientists say that in those last days they +undoubtedly located the Gians and blasted them with a hatred born +of centuries of oppression. And then, with their exploring parties +underground finding food and water, they vanished with their weapon +into the dark realms from which they had come. They wanted nothing of +our world—feared us perhaps.</p> + +<p>We are an adventurous civilization. There is already talk of exploring +the depths—finding the Middge.</p> + +<p>There will be books of sociology written upon the strange Gian +civilization. I have no more than hinted at it. Already there is much +controversy. It has been said that Rhana was the personification of +all womanhood if given unlimited power. I think that is unjust to +womanhood. In every age and every race there have been bad men and good +men—bad women and good women. There was Rhana—and there was Nereid.</p> + +<p>A river flows beneath these windows of the house where Polly and I are +living. It murmurs its endless song. Arturo and Nereid are no more than +half a mile up its stream. They often come past in a boat—sometimes +swimming down, with the boat floating after them. They went past like +that this evening, just a short while ago. Polly was here with me +then—pushing aside these pages to sit with me and watch the moonlight +on the river.</p> + +<p>And Arturo and Nereid came swimming past. They looked up and saw us. +They waved. Nereid’s hair streamed out long and tawny in the silver +rippling water; her face was laughing as she flung up her arm toward us +and dived after Arturo.</p> + + +<p class="ph2">THE END.</p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76268 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/76268-h/images/cover.jpg b/76268-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..061cf03 --- /dev/null +++ b/76268-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/76268-h/images/illus1.jpg b/76268-h/images/illus1.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..edeb715 --- /dev/null +++ b/76268-h/images/illus1.jpg diff --git a/76268-h/images/illus2.jpg b/76268-h/images/illus2.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..13693c2 --- /dev/null +++ b/76268-h/images/illus2.jpg diff --git a/76268-h/images/illus3.jpg b/76268-h/images/illus3.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6e7b7a8 --- /dev/null +++ b/76268-h/images/illus3.jpg diff --git a/76268-h/images/illus4.jpg b/76268-h/images/illus4.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..67603f5 --- /dev/null +++ b/76268-h/images/illus4.jpg diff --git a/76268-h/images/illus5.jpg b/76268-h/images/illus5.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9b4b38c --- /dev/null +++ b/76268-h/images/illus5.jpg diff --git a/76268-h/images/illus6.jpg b/76268-h/images/illus6.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3c1091f --- /dev/null +++ b/76268-h/images/illus6.jpg diff --git a/76268-h/images/illusc.jpg b/76268-h/images/illusc.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..03d1e3c --- /dev/null +++ b/76268-h/images/illusc.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b5dba15 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, 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. 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