CHAPTER VIII
_The Fires_
Great vortices of whirling light rolled out to either side in an endlesspyrotechnical display to show the power of those flailing wings thatwere bearing Chet and his companion through the dark void--bearing themto some destination Chet could not envisage.
His body turned in space at times, and he saw the spreading cone ofluminous gas behind them like the wake of a great ship in aphosphorescent sea. The hiss and threshing of many wings cameunceasingly. Once he swung close to another body clad like his own and,like him, enmeshed in a net. And he saw in the light of the luminiferousair the girl's wide, staring eyes. Then she was gone, and all about wasonly the whip of wings and the flashing whirls of light.
He tried to form some picture of this sphere through whose center, emptybut for this gas, he was being swung. That first fall had carried himdown the tube of some volcanic blow-pipe; he had fallen straight forwhat seemed like hours. And that had been through the crust of thisgreat, hollow globe. Then the center!--but of this he dared make noestimate; he knew only that the huge leather wings were threshing thedense air in an untiring rhythm and that he was being carried for atremendous distance at remarkable speed.
It became soothing, that rushing, swinging sweep of his body throughspace. There was death ahead, without doubt--but what of that? He wassleepy--sleepy--and beyond this nothing mattered. Just to sleep, todrift off in spirit into a void like this through which he wasswinging....
And so traveled Chet Bullard, one time Master Pilot of Earth, through,the heart of another world--on and endlessly on, while leather-wingeddemons dragged him after, flying straight away from the center of theMoon toward a place and events unknown.
But Chet Bullard had ceased to note the passing hours or the swirlinggases that came alight at the beating of those wings; he was asleep in astupor that was as deep as it was timeless.
* * * * *
He opened his eyes at last; it seemed but a moment that he had slept.But now there was no rushing hiss of air, nor was he being lifted in agreat net. He lay instead upon a support of some kind, and about him allwas still.
Not at first did he observe the exquisite carving of the yellow bed onwhich he lay; that came later. The fact that its massive gold and itsscrollwork of inlaid platinum were worth a fortune meant nothing to himthen. His eyes were held by the immensity of the great room and theintricate series of arches that made up a vaulted ceiling.
It shone with a light of its own, that carved ceiling; no least lovelydetail was lost. And Chet found his eyes roving from one to another ofangel figures that seemed suspended in air.
The white of purest alabaster was theirs; and their outstretched wings,too, were white. He realized confusedly that they were like the blackdemons--like them and yet entirely unlike. For, where the black-wingedones had been ugly of feature, with every mark of degeneracy, these werethe ultimate of loveliness in face and form. Figures of men he saw,stalwart and strong, yet perfectly proportioned; and the others--thewomen and girls--were superhuman in their ethereal beauty.
"Angels!" breathed Chet and turned his head slowly to see the exquisitefigures that seemed hovering above the whole vast room in silentbenediction. "Angels--no less! And they're carved from stone! Thoseblack devils never did it. What does it mean? What does it mean!"
And not until then did Chet realize a wonderful thing. So enthralled hadhe been by the wonder of this hovering angel band he had not realizedthat he was seeing them with no helmet glass between; he was lyingdisrobed on his couch of pure gold.
* * * * *
For an instant, panic seized him. Without his helmet and the oxygensupply, he must strangle. And then he knew that he was breathingnaturally in an atmosphere like that of Earth but for the strangefragrances that swept to him on the soft, warm air.
He came slowly to his feet and steadied himself with one hand on thescrollwork of the bed. Then memories rushed in upon him, and he livedagain the long, sickening fall through the heart of this world, thefinding of the girl of mystery, hung like himself in the immensity ofthe inner world, their capture; and the band of black-winged ones whoswung them through space in nets that drew tightly about them.
The girl! Again he saw the clear look from those eyes of blue. It wasshe who had signaled; it was she whom he had come through vast space torescue. And now she was lost!
Chet stared slowly about him at the magnificence of the tremendous room.He saw more delicate figures done in inlay on the walls; he knew that hewas in a place whose beauty and wealth should have set his nervestingling; and all he sensed was the loneliness of this place where hewas the only living occupant.
* * * * *
He found his Earth-clothes beside the golden couch. He had put them onand was examining the suit and helmet to learn with relief that theywere intact when the first sound came to him. From an arched entranceacross the room were coming shuffling figures whose black wings werewrapped about their chalk-white bodies. Only their pallid faces showed,ghastly and inhuman, as the eyes glowed redly from their deep blacksockets. Chet still held the suit in his hands as the black-winged onescame toward him across the floor, and he carried it with him as he movedunresistingly where they led him with the pull of their claw-like handsupon his arms.
"No gun!" he told himself hopelessly. "Not a chance if I put up a fight!They've got me and got me right. Now what I need to do is to begood--lay low--find out something about all this, and find her!" Hecould not name the girl whose eyes were haunting him in their appealingloveliness; he could think of her only as the mystery girl, and heaccepted without surprise or denial the fact that the finding of heroutweighed all else that this new world might hold for him.
As the shuffling figures closed about him and led him away he foundrelief in the thought of his ship, of Spud's safety, and of his returnto the world that they both knew as home.
"Never again for me!" said Chet softly beneath his breath. "But Spudwill get there. Perhaps he is there now--no telling how long I haveslept!"
* * * * *
He saw it all so plainly: saw the Irish pilot bringing the ship to restat the great Hoover Terminal. And he saw, too, a relief expedition thatwould be organized by Harkness and that must arrive too late. To supposethat any help might reach him here inside this wild world was too much;Chet looked with judicially appraising eyes at the things about him andcould not allow himself to be deceived. There was no hope; but he madeone resolve and made it grimly in words that never reached his lips.
"Give me half a chance at them, Walt," he promised, "and if ever you doget inside here, you'll know where I've been. I'll find the girlfirst--I must do that--then I'll give these devils something to rememberme by before they put us away for good!" And now the face of the pilotwas almost happy as he stared at the snarling, twisted features of thosethat led him unresistingly through a series of stone rooms that seemedwithout beginning or end. He even disregarded the spiked tails thatwhipped at him with heavy blows to hurry him along.
"If I had a gun," he told them inaudibly, "I'd take you on right now.But you got that, or I lost it in the scuffle, so I'll just twist yourscrawny necks in my bare hands when the time comes. And it's coming, youugly devils! It's coming!"
Their claws pulled roughly at him to hurry him into another room. Andwhere before he could see nothing of a beautiful room because of theabsence of a pair of smiling eyes, he now saw nothing else for theirpresence. For, across the great hall, whose walls and ceilings glowedsoftly with yellow light, his eyes swept unerringly to a slim figure ina pilot's suit--to an oval face and blue eyes and red lips that couldstill curve into a trembling smile of welcome as he drew near.
* * * * *
Forgotten was the grip of sharp-spiked, clawing hands; even theanticipated sweets of revenge were lost from Chet's mind. He knew onlythat he had found her--the mystery girl--an
d that the blue eyes werelocked with his in an intimacy that set something deep within him into aturmoil of emotion.
And instead of the countless questions he had expected to launch uponher when again they met, he found his lips trembling and wordless--untilthey uttered one hoarse ejaculation of: "Thank God!"
But the girl seemed to understand, for she reached one slender hand totouch him lightly upon the arm where these gripping claws had been."Yes," she whispered; "I was afraid, too--afraid for you!"
More whispered words, but they were lost to Chet in the babel of soundthat engulfed them. Those who had brought him had moved silently, andthe throng of some hundred or more that waited beside the girl had beenmute. But now they burst into a chorus of shrill cries whose keennessstabbed at Chet's ears.
A pandemonium of the same high-pitched squeals, he had heardbefore--this was all that he could distinguish at first. Then the shrillsounds broke into words and unintelligible phrases, and he knew theywere talking among themselves.
* * * * *
They quieted at a sound from the girl. She had turned to face them, andshe forced her own soft voice into a shrill pitch as she spoke to them.Their clamor broke out once more as she ceased, but it was moresubdued. Chet could hear her as she turned toward him.
"They think you are Frithjof," she explained.
"You talked with them?" asked Chet incredulously.
"But certainly; have I not been here for five years? They have theirlanguage--but enough of that now. They are angry. They sent Frithjofaway; they tell me now that he escaped; they think you are he--that youhave changed your appearance with magic--that the ship they saw wassummoned by your magic. They say they will kill us both; throw us to thefires!"
"Wait!" almost shouted Chet to make himself heard above the din ofshrieking voices. "I've got to know! Who are you? Who is Frithjof? Howdid you get here? Where are you from? Tell me quickly! It may give mesomething to go on; it may mean a chance for delay."
And if Chet had not been out of breath from the shouted questions, hewould surely have been left breathless by their amazing answer.
"I thought you knew," said the girl as the din of shrillness subsided.There seemed to Chet a note of hurt in her voice. "I thought you knew,that you had come here knowing. I am Anita, and Frithjof is mybrother--Frithjof Haldgren! I stowed away on his ship; he did not know.I was only thirteen then.... And now, is Frithjof forgotten back in thatworld that we left?"
Again that note of disappointment; the pilot sensed it even through thetenseness of the moment when both Earth-folk knew that death stood closeat their side. He answered quickly:
"I came for your brother. I saw your signals. I came to find Haldgrenand to save him. And I have failed. But if death, as you say, is all wecan expect, let me say this: 'I have failed, but I have found you; andwhatever comes I am content.'"
* * * * *
The blue eyes were wide; they were looking at him with a searchingglance that changed to a childish candor while a flush stole over thepale face. She reached out one hand toward his. "We could have beenhappy," she said simply; "and now--now we must face thefires--together."
"I don't know just what you mean by that," spoke Chet softly, "but,whatever it is, there is a little matter of a fight first."
He released her hand and moved swiftly between her and the nearer of thethrong; and his blood pulsed strongly through him as he faced a batteryof hostile red eyes and knew that he was preparing for his last fight.
A hand clutched at his arm. "Not now!" begged Anita Haldgren's voice."Wait! They will not all come. I too, can fight; but we cannot face somany!"
The rat-tails of the nearest beasts were whipping to and fro; the eyesin the chalky faces were like living coals where the ashes have beenfreshly blown. Chet stepped back beside the girl, and he made no protestas the black claws seized him and the sharp talons dug into his flesh.But he whispered to the one who was hurried along beside him: "You areright; I'll be good as long as we stay together. But if not--if we'reseparated--if they take you away--"
And the girl nodded quick agreement with his unspoken words.
* * * * *
Chet set his teeth together to make more bearable the pain of thosegripping claws; but the hurt was easier to bear when he saw that thegirl was more carefully treated. She was close ahead as his captorshustled him from this room into others and yet others, all carved fromthe solid rock.
What a people this must be who could do such work as this! Again thesense of amazement struck through to Chet despite the pain--amazementand a feeling of an inexplicable incongruity when he saw theleather-winged creatures that had him in their grip. And again therewere figures high overhead--white, floating figures on pinions of purewhite; their faces, kindly and serene, looked down upon the motleythrong.
"Look above you!" gasped Chet. "Anita! What are they? Not like thesedevils!"
And the girl ahead half-turned her head to answer: "Ancestors! Athousand generations back! They have come down to this statenow--degenerated."
Chet saw one of the beasts who held her jerk her sharply about, and heknew that his remaining questions must wait--wait forever, perhaps, andremain unsaid.
They came at last to a place where Chet found the answer to one questionhe had not dared ask; a place where gaping chasms in the floor glowedred with the wrath of unquenched fires. And the girl, Anita, when theyhad been placed by themselves against a glowing, lighted wall of rock,stared steadily at those pits and the sulphurous fumes that vomited outat times; then turned and spoke to the pilot in a voice steady and sure.
"It will be over quickly," she assured him. "Frithjof said that theheat, like the warmth of this whole inner world, comes from thecontraction of the rocks in the cold of night. There is great pressuredeveloped ... but he never learned the source of the light in thewalls."
* * * * *
Talking to still the beating of a heart pulsing with dread, perhaps!Chet had no mind for explanations. Before him were a score of yawningclefts in a rocky floor; one was larger than the rest; there werefigures whose white bodies glowed red in its reflected light as theyfloated on black wings high above; the light of those hidden firesblazed and died intermittently. There death was waiting, while thesedemons--these degenerate half-men, living products of a dyingrace--whipped the air in a frenzy of expectation as they darted abovethose chasms that were like rifts in the rock roof of hell.
Chet did not answer the statements of the girl. Instead he turned andgathered her once into his arms, while his lips met hers to find a readyresponse. Her face, so calm and pale, was turned upward to his. And hisown voice trembled at first; then was steady and firm.
"I love you. I've come a long way to tell you, and I didn't know why Icame. And now it is too late."
"Anita Haldgren," he said, and let his voice linger as he repeated thename, "Anita Haldgren--a beautiful name--a beautiful soul! And now--" Hereleased her quickly and swung to meet a rush of beastly things thathalf-ran, half-flew across the great room.
* * * * *
Outstretched arms of white that ended in black claws! Snarling, grinningteeth in faces of dead-white flesh! Barbed tails that hissed through theair as they swung down upon him! And Chet Bullard, his blond hairshining like the gold that was inlaid and encrusted upon the walls ofthe room--Chet Bullard, Master Pilot, once, of a distant Earth--did notwait for the assault to reach him, but sprang in upon the beastly thingswith swinging fists that came up from beneath to crash into grinningfaces; to smash dully into white, scabrous flesh; or catch beneath theangle of out-thrust jaws jolt the ghastly faces into awkward angles.
They went down before him at first. Then the long rat-tails camewhipping over, the demon-heads, ripping down with slashing blows on thepilot's head and shoulders. Off at one side, a dozen paces away, aslender figure tore loose from gripping claws. Chet saw it; he freedhim
self for an instant to leap to her side. She was tugging at a bar ofgold, a scepter in the hands of a sculptured figure in the wall. Itwould have been a serviceable weapon, but it bent slowly. Another of thebeasts was upon her as Chet sprang.
This one went down beneath the chopping right that Chet shot to a lean,white jaw; then a barbed tail caught him a blow that laid his shoulderopen. Another descended--and another. The pilot sank to the floor. Anitawas beside him, shielding him with her own body from the rain of blows.Then they were buried beneath a great weight of odorous bodies--tillChet, after a time, felt himself dragged to his feet.
* * * * *
His head, was ringing with the shrieks of the shrill-voiced mob. He wasstill struggling, still fighting blindly, as the clamor ceased. Then hestood erect and motionless as he heard the voice of Anita Haldgren.
"It's Frithjof!" she cried. "Oh, my dear--my dear! It's Frithjof! Iheard him! But he can't reach us--he can't help us! I will try toreason with these beasts--bargain with them--make them afraid! I willtell them it is magic."
And, as her voice, high-pitched in the language of this race, rose inprotest against them, Chet heard what the girl had detected first: asharp, metallic rapping within the wall, a rapping that was dulled bydistance but whose separate blows were distinct; and he knew, with aknowledge that came from somewhere else than his bewildered brain, thatthe raps were forming dots and dashes. They were talking Morse!
The girl's frenzied appeal ended in a din of shrieks; a horde ofman-beasts swept into the air and launched themselves in a solid massupon the two. Chet saw Anita for one instant as he felt himself liftedin air. About him was a pandemonium of flailing wings; ahead and belowwas the red of hidden fires. They were being lifted out and over thepits.
One instant only, while tortured eyes smiled bravely into his; then agreat pit-mouth that gaped a horrible welcome up ahead. So plainly Chetsaw it! He could not tear his eyes away. He saw the red, smoking breathof it; he saw a rocky lip that shone like one great ruby.
* * * * *
It was impossible! Even the blast of air that tore at him meant nothingat first! But it was happening! Before his eyes it was happening! Chetwatched dumbly, uncomprehendingly, as that great overhanging rock toreitself into fragments that rose screamingly into the air or fell to thedepths beneath.
Another section of solid floor erupted a hundred feet across the room!The destruction was being kept away, Chet knew. And then, while a roarlike all the thunders of Earth reverberated deafeningly through the rockroom, the claws that gripped him relaxed their hold.
He fell, nor felt the impact of his fall. He came to his feet, ranstumblingly to the edge of the nearest pit where he threw his arms aboutthe body of a girl and dragged her to safety. And while he did it hewas babbling in broken sentences:
"It's detonite! Your brother!... Where did he get it?... Detonite!...Oh, my dear--my dear!"
And his arms were tight about her while he held his body between her andthe explosions that tore at the floor in an inferno of crashingexplosions out beyond--until three of the demon-beasts, red with thereflected fires of that subterranean hell, flew down like black-wingedbats bent on vengeance. And Chet, laughing at their numbers, sprang outwith hard fists swinging in well-directed blows, and welcomed them asonly an Earth-man could.
The Finding of Haldgren Page 8