Hellhounds of the Cosmos
Page 5
drummed his fingers on the desk. It had been a hectic twenty-fourhours and he had stayed at the desk every minute of the time. He wasdead tired. When the moment of relaxation came, when the tensionsnapped, he knew he would fall into an exhausted stupor of sleep, butthe excitement was keeping him on his feet. There was work to do. Therewas news such as the world had never known before. Each new story meanta new front make-up, another extra. Even now the presses werethundering, even now papers with the ink hardly dry upon them were beingsnatched by the avid public from the hands of screaming newsboys.
* * * * *
A man raced toward the city desk, waving a sheet of paper in his hand.Sensing something unusual the others in the room crowded about as helaid the sheet before the editor.
"Just came in," the man gasped.
The paper was a wire dispatch. It read:
"Rome--The Black Horror is in full retreat. Although still apparently immune to the weapons being used against it, it is lifting the siege of this city. The cause is unknown."
The editor ran his eye down the sheet. There was another dateline:
"Madrid--The Black Horror, which has enclosed this city in a ring of dark terror for the last two days, is fleeing, rapidly disappearing...."
The editor pressed a button. There was an answering buzz.
"Composing room," he shouted, "get ready for a new front! Yes, anotherextra. This will knock their eyes out!"
A telephone jangled furiously. The editor seized it.
"Yes. What was that?... White says he must have help. I see. Woods andthe others are weakening. Being badly beaten, eh?... More men needed togo out to the other plane. Wants reinforcements. Yes. I see. Well, tellhim that he'll have them. If he can wait half an hour we'll have themwalking by thousands into that light. I'll be damned if we won't! Justtell White to hang on! We'll have the whole nation coming to therescue!"
He jabbed up the receiver.
"Richards," he said, "write a streamer, 'Help Needed,' 'ReinforcementsCalled'--something of that sort, you know. Make it scream. Tell theforeman to dig out the biggest type he has. A foot high. If we everneeded big type, we need it now!"
He turned to the telephone.
"Operator," he said, "get me the Secretary of War at Washington. Thesecretary in person, you understand. No one else will do."
He turned again to the reporters who stood about the desk.
"In two hours," he explained, banging the desk top for emphasis, "we'llhave the United States Army marching into that light Woods walked into!"
* * * * *
The bloody sun was touching the edge of the weird world, seeming tohesitate before taking the final plunge behind the towering black cragsthat hung above the ink-pot shadows at their base. The purple sky haddarkened until it was almost the color of soft, black velvet. Greatstars were blazing out.
Ouglat loomed large in the gathering twilight, a horrible misshapen ogreof an outer world. He had grown taller, broader, greater. Mal Shaff'shead now was on a level with the other's chest; his huge arms seemedtoylike in comparison with those of Ouglat, his legs mere pipestems.
Time and time again he had barely escaped as the clutching hands ofOuglat reached out to grasp him. Once within those hands he would betorn apart.
The battle had become a game of hide and seek, a game of cat and mouse,with Mal Shaff the mouse.
Slowly the sun sank and the world became darker. His brain workingfeverishly, Mal Shaff waited for the darkness. Adroitly he worked thebattle nearer and nearer to the Stygian darkness that lay at the foot ofthe mighty crags. In the darkness he might escape. He could no longercontinue this unequal fight. Only escape was left.
The sun was gone now. Blackness was dropping swiftly over the land, likea great blanket, creating the illusion of the glowering sky descendingto the ground. Only a few feet away lay the total blackness under thecliffs.
Like a flash Mal Shaff darted into the blackness, was completelyswallowed in it. Roaring, Ouglat followed.
His shoulders almost touching the great rock wall that shot straight uphundreds of feet above him, Mal Shaff ran swiftly, fear lending speed tohis shivering legs. Behind him he heard the bellowing of his enemy.Ouglat was searching for him, a hopeless search in that total darkness.He would never find him. Mal Shaff felt sure.
Fagged and out of breath, he dropped panting at the foot of the wall.Blood pounded through his head and his strength seemed to be gone. Helay still and stared out into the less dark moor that stretched beforehim.
For some time he lay there, resting. Aimlessly he looked out over themoor, and then he suddenly noted, some distance to his right, a hillrising from the moor. The hill was vaguely familiar. He remembered itdimly as being of great importance.
A sudden inexplicable restlessness filled him. Far behind him he heardthe enraged bellowing of Ouglat, but that he scarcely noticed. So longas darkness lay upon the land he knew he was safe from his enemy.
The hill had made him restless. He must reach the top. He could think ofno logical reason for doing so. Obviously he was safer here at the baseof the cliff, but a voice seemed to be calling, a friendly voice fromthe hilltop.
* * * * *
He rose on aching legs and forged ahead. Every fiber of his being criedout in protest, but resolutely he placed one foot ahead of the other,walking mechanically.
Opposite the hill he disregarded the strange call that pulsed down uponhim, long enough to rest his tortured body. He must build up hisstrength for the climb.
He realized that danger lay ahead. Once he quitted the blackness of thecliff's base, Ouglat, even in the darkness that lay over the land, mightsee him. That would be disastrous. Once over the top of the hill hewould be safe.
Suddenly the landscape was bathed in light, a soft green radiance. Onemoment it had been pitch dark, the next it was light, as if a giantsearch-light had been snapped on.
In terror, Mal Shaff looked for the source of the light. Just above thehorizon hung a great green orb, which moved up the ladder of the skyeven as he watched.
A moon! A huge green satellite hurtling swiftly around this cursedworld!
A great, overwhelming fear sat upon Mal Shaff and with a high, shrillscream of anger he raced forward, forgetful of aching body and outragedlungs.
His scream was answered from far off, and out of the shadows of thecliffs toward the far end of the moor a black figure hurled itself.Ouglat was on the trail!
Mal Shaff tore madly up the slope, topped the crest, and threw himselfflat on the ground, almost exhausted.
* * * * *
A queer feeling stole over him, a queer feeling of well-being. Newstrength was flowing into him, the old thrill of battle was poundingthrough his blood once more.
Not only were queer things happening to his body, but also to his brain.The world about him looked queer, held a sort of an intangible mysteryhe could not understand. A half question formed in the back of hisbrain. Who and what was he? Queer thoughts to be thinking! He was MalShaff, but had he always been Mal Shaff?
He remembered a brittle column of light, creatures with bodies unlikehis body, walking into it. He had been one of those creatures. There wassomething about dimensions, about different planes, a plan for one planeto attack another!
He scrambled to his bowed legs and beat his great chest with mighty,long-nailed hands. He flung back his head and from his throat broke asound to curdle the blood of even the bravest.
On the moor below Ouglat heard the cry and answered it with one equallyferocious.
Mal Shaff took a step forward, then stopped stock-still. Through hisbrain went a sharp command to return to the spot where he had stood, towait there until attacked. He stepped back, shifting his feetimpatiently.
He was growing larger; every second fresh vitality was pouring into him.Before his eyes danced a red curtain of hate and his tongue roared fortha series of ins
ulting challenges to the figure that was even nowapproaching the foot of the hill.
As Ouglat climbed the hill, the night became an insane bedlam. Thechallenging roars beat like surf against the black cliffs.
Ouglat's lips were flecked with foam, his red eyes were mere slits, hismouth worked convulsively.
They were only a few feet apart when Ouglat charged.
* * * * *
Mal Shaff was ready for him. There was no longer any difference in theirsize and they met like the two forward walls of contending footballteams.
Mal Shaff felt the soft throat of the other under his fingers and hisgrip tightened. Maddened, Ouglat shot terrific blow after terrific blowinto Mal Shaff's body.
Try as he might, however, he could not shake the other's grip.
It was silent now. The night seemed brooding, watching the struggle onthe hilltop.
Larger and larger grew Mal Shaff, until he overtopped Ouglat like agiant.
Then he loosened his grip