CHAPTER VII
_The Gateway to Hell_
Spud O'Malley, at the controls of the ship, held the craft in a verticallift while his eyes clung in horrible fascination to the mirrors thatshowed from a lower lookout the volcanic floor falling away. Amazementhad almost stifled his breathing, until at last he let go a long breaththat ended in a curse.
"The outrageous, damned things!" he breathed. "Jumping, they were, andleaping, and flying on their leather wings like a lot of black bats outo' hell! And I'm thinkin' that's where they've taken Chet Bullard, andnever again will he hold a ship like 'twas in the hollow of his hand,and him settin' it down like a feather!
"And: 'Fly back home!' he says to me. I can do it, too; thanks to histeachin'. But fly back and leave that bhoy in the hands of thosemurderin' devils!--'tis little he knows the Irish!"
He was talking half under his breath, murmuring to himself as if ithelped him to see clearly the situation that must be faced.
"But to get to him--that's the trouble. I saw a big door go shut in thatstone floor. They're cunnin', clever beasts; I'll say that for 'em. Andthere was a raft of 'em; and plenty more down in hell where they live,I've no doubt."
He moved forward on the ball-control, and the great ship swept like asilvery shadow through the night toward the distant, lighted crater rim.This he could see clearly, but the other side of the ring of mountainswas black with shadow.
And, far out beyond, spread like a cloud over all the desolate world,was blackness. Spud drove the ship up another five thousand feet, andstill that darkness spread out in inky pools where only an occasionalmountain peak caught the flat rays of the sun.
* * * * *
And what had Chet called these dark areas? "Lake of Dreams" and "Lake ofDeath." Spud's superstitious mind was a-quiver with dread and anominous premonition to which the empty, frozen wastes below him gaveadded force.
"I'll have to wait," he told himself. "The light of the Moon--I mean theEarth--is bright, but not bright enough. I'll just wait till the Sunclimbs higher. When it shines down into that hole that is the gateway tohell--and well I know it--then I can see what is there. Then, maybe, Ican find some way to get inside; and I hope the lad lives till I getthere."
He circled back; swept down in a long, leisurely flight, and came againto the place of gently sloping rock where Chet had first landed. And hesearched till he found the identical spot and laid the ship down on alevel keel.
Far away the Sun was gilding the hard outlines of mountains that ringedthem in. Spud did not know how long he must wait. Had he realized thatit must be a matter of days it is probable he would have donned themetal suit and started out. But instead he busied himself in a carefulinvestigation of the storeroom and a check-up of ammunition and suppliesthat were there.
* * * * *
The lunar day, as all Earth-men know, is a matter of nearly fifteen ofEarth's days. Spud O'Malley was wild with impatience when at last theSun was striking less flatly across the land and he knew that the timehad come when he could start.
He had sensed the change that took place in the world outside; from thelookouts of the control room he had seen the bare rocks lose their whitemarkings of hoar frost and at last actually quiver with heat as the Sunbeat upon them. He had seen the growing things that crept from everycrevice and hollow--pale, colorless mosses that threw out long tendrilswhich licked across the hot rocks as if hungry for the nourishment thethin air brought.
Spud knew nothing of the carbon dioxide which these pale green growthscould combine with water under the Sun's hot rays and build intovegetable tissue. But he marveled again and again at the hungry thingsthat made a mesh of ropy strands across the smooth area about the ship.They even hung in drooping masses from the weird rocks beyond; and, solight they were, they raised their heads hungrily in air, while thecorded tendrils even threw themselves in contorted writhings at timeswhen the Sun struck with increasing warmth.
"A dead world!" said Spud scornfully. "How much the scientists backthere don't know! First those livin', flyin' devils; and now this! Thewhole place is fairly wrigglin' with life."
* * * * *
It was then that he made one last flight over the inner crater and sawlight on the floor of stone in the funneled depths. Then he sent theship like a rocket down to the shelf of rock where Chet had begun hisdescent; and he worked with trembling fingers to adjust the metal suitand regulate the oxygen supply.
He waited only to strap a couple of detonite pistols about him; then,with never a backward look, he let himself out through the air-lockingdoors and started pell-mell toward the inner crater.
Like Chet, he had learned to gage his tremendous strength; like themaster pilot, he threw himself down the rocky slope. But where Chet hadleaped and stumbled in the darkness, O'Malley worked in full light.
He came at last to the rocky floor where molten stone in ages past hadhardened to seal the throat of this vent. Hundreds of feet across, Spudestimated; smooth in appearance from above, but broken with deepcrevasses and excrescences where hot, fluid stone had frozen in itsmoment of bubbling turbulence. And, in one place, where the floor wassmooth, Spud found what he was searching for: a circular, metal ledgethat projected above the smooth rock; and, within it, a still smoothersheet of what appeared to be hammered metal.
"A door it is," whispered the pilot, half-fearful of listening ears,"and the gateway to Hell!" He grinned broadly at some thought. "And hereI've been told 'twas, of all places, the easiest to get into; one littleslip from grace and there you were! Sure, and the priests were as wrongas the scientists. It must be Heaven that's easy to crash, for the frontdoor of Hades is shut fast without even a keyhole to peep through."
* * * * *
Then his face sobered to its customary homely lines. "The poor bhoy!" heexclaimed. "I've got to get in some way. I wonder how hard and thick itis."
He was raising a mass of black, shining rock in his hands--a fragmentthat his strength would not have moved a fraction of an inch on Earth.He steadied it above his head, preparing to crash it upon the metaldoor; then waited; stared incredulously at the black metal sheet;lowered the great stone silently and turned to leap mightily yet withnever a sound for the shelter of an upflung saw-toothed ridge.
And, from its shelter, he watched the black door swing smoothly into theair, while, from the gaping black mouth of the pit beneath, incredibleman-shapes of fish-belly white drew themselves up to the edge of the pitand perched there, where they might stretch their long necks into thelight of the Sun.
Below them, Spud saw, dangled long, rat-like tails; and their wings,black and leathery, hung down too from their backs or dragged on therocks behind where some three or four of the owl-eyed creatures crawledout and walked across the rock toward the place where an Irish pilotwaited and stared with unbelieving and horrified eyes from theconcealment of his rocky fort.
The Finding of Haldgren Page 7