CHAPTER IX
_O'Malley Investigates_
Spud O'Malley's twinkling Irish eyes had seen strange sights in hisyears of piloting an Intercolonial freighter; he had touched at oddcorners of the Earth. But never had he seen such creatures as confrontedhim now.
Sheltered behind a jagged ridge of volcanic rock in the inner crater ofthe great ring of Hercules, he stared in utter horror at the figuresthat approached. For to Spud, with all his inherited ancestral faith ingnomes and pixies, these bat-winged things were nothing less than peopleof the under world--demons from some purgatory of the Moon--devils,living and breathing, spewed out from that buried hell for a moment ofrelaxation from their horrid work.
And, coming directly toward him across a level lava bed, three of thethings, with leather wings trailing, were approaching. Spud wasunmoving; his feet might have been one with the volcanic rock on whichhe stood for any ability of his to raise them. Only his eyes turnedslowly in their sockets to stare wildly at the three who drew near; whoglimpsed his awe-stricken eyes behind his helmet glass; and who utteredshrill, screaming cries that brought the rest of the unholy crew leapingand flapping across the rocks.
And, within that helmet, Spud's lips moved unconsciously to repeatprayers he would have sworn were forgotten these many years. There was apistol at his belt where his hand was resting; another hung at his otherside. But the man made no move to defend himself; he was struck numb andnerveless, not through fear, but through that horror which comes withseeing one's most gruesome superstitions come true. Spud O'Malley, whowould have laughed at devils and believed in them while he laughed, knewnow that they were real. They had captured Chet; they were about to takehim, too, to the hell that was their home.
* * * * *
And still he did not move while the demon figures pressed closer, whiletheir wild, shrieking cries echoed within his helmet; while they lashedtheir scaly tails, and at last leaped in unison upon the helpless man.
And then, with that first touch, Spud O'Malley, who had not only seenstrange creatures but had fought with them, came to himself--and thehand that rested upon a detonite pistol moved like the head of astriking snake.
The roar of detonite was strained and thin in the light atmosphere ofthis globe; it seemed futile compared with its usual thunderous report.But its effects were the same as might have been expected on Earth!
Spud was hurled to the rocky floor, as much by the closeness of theexploding shells as by the weight of the bodies that came upon him. Hefell free of the first leaping things that went to fragments in mid-airas his pistol checked them. And he made no effort to arise, but layprostrate, while he swung that slender tube of death about him and sawthe winged beasts shattered and torn--until there were but five who ranwildly with frantic, flapping wings; and these the tiny shells fromSpud's gun caught as they ran when the Irishman sprang to his feet andtook careful aim across the jagged rocks.
"Saints be praised!" the pilot was saying over and over. "Saints bethanked!--even the Devil's imps can't stand up to detonite shells! AndChet, the poor lad!--his gun must have been knocked from his hand; hewas fightin' in the dark, too! And they took him down there, theydid!--down where I'm goin' to see if the lad is still livin'."
And Spud O'Malley, though he believed fully in the demoniac nature ofthese opponents and never for an instant thought but that he wasdescending into an inferno of the Moon, strode with steady steps towardthe portal of that Plutonic region and lowered himself within.
* * * * *
That ring of metal, huge and accurately formed, made Spud pause inthought; the massive metal door that came up from below to fit that ringsnugly--that, too, looked more like the work of human hands than ofdemons. The pilot was frankly puzzled as he tentatively moved a leverdown below that door and saw the huge metal mass swing shut.
About him the walls were glowing. He saw, in the floor, another circulardoor, but found no lever with which to operate it. Nor did he search forone, since he could have no way of knowing that here was where Chet hadgone. But, from the corridor where he stood other lighted passages led;and one slanted more steeply than the rest.
"That's the way I'm goin'," announced Spud. "I know that, and it's all Ido know; I'm goin' down till I find some place where the devils live andwhere Chet may be."
The passage took him smoothly down. It turned at times, and smallerbranches split off, but he followed the main corridor that he hadselected for his route. And he paused, at last, beside a metal frame inthe rock wall, where the door that fitted so tightly in the frame wasnot like the others he had seen. For the first ones, though cleverlyfashioned and machined, were of iron, rusted red with the ages; whilethis one that was before him now was paneled and decorated with sweepingscrolls. And, above this portal that seemed hermetically sealed, was awhite figure such as Chet had seen.
* * * * *
Spud's gaze traveled up to it slowly, and his knees were trembling asthey had not done when facing the black-winged ones. "'Tis an angel," hewhispered, "or the statue of one! And that explains it all. 'Tis themthat has done all this--these passages, and the sweet-fittin' doors. Anddo they live here? I wonder. Heaven help me if I meet them, for nevercould I shoot at one of them, the pretty things!"
He was still gazing in rapt wonder that was near to worship when thegreat door began to move. He saw the first hair-line crack, and the thinline of light was like a hot wire across his eyes, so quickly did herespond. Beyond, where he had not yet gone, was a branching passage. Allthe walls glowed softly with light--no shelter of darkness was his--butSpud leaped for the little passage and raced down it until a turnscreened him from sight.
"That's movin'!" he congratulated himself. "What an athlete I'mbecomin'!" And it was fortunate for the pilot that the ceiling was high,for his tremendous Earth-strength propelled him in unbelievable bounds.
He still moved on silently, for far ahead in the corridor something hadcaught his eyes. And he stopped finally beside a little car; then sawthat he had been following a single rail, buried under the dust of ageson the corridor floor.
The monorail car lay on its side. At one end of it was a motor. Not amotor such as men had built, Spud confessed, but an electric motor nonethe less. And beyond this, where the passage ended, was a wall veinedthickly with gold.
* * * * *
Ropy strands of the metal shone reddish-yellow in the soft light of thewalls; detached pieces lay on the floor and in the car itself. Spudregarded it with amazement, but the wealth he was witnessing left himcold; another thought was forcing itself into his brain.
That thought took more definite form when another corridor took him torooms where great metal cases were neatly stacked; other adjoining roomsheld strange machinery and appliances on metal stands.
"Lab'ratories!" said the amazed man explosively. "And storehouses, too!Neither angels nor devils did this; 'tis the work of men--and I know howto get along with men. I'll go find them. Belike they have saved thelad, Chet, and he'll be waitin' to see me."
He raced back along the corridor, but stopped short at its end, where hehad taken flight from the larger passage. There was sound of shriekingvoices, and Spud dropped to the floor to present as small a view aspossible to the half-human things that trailed their black wings pastthe metal entrance; then he crept cautiously to peer around the corner,when the last one had gone.
They were waiting out beyond; Spud watched them intently. They had greatnets of rope in which were living things that struggled and writhed.
He saw one of the creatures stoop to break off a protruding end ofpinkish, nameless substance; the thing seemed to struggle in his handswhile he took it to his mouth and munched on it. Even when Spud realizedthat this living food was vegetation of some sort, he was still sickenedwith the sight of its being taken alive into the bodies of theseMoon-beasts.
* * * * *
And Spud, speaking half aloud, counted slowly to a hundred, then anotherhundred, as a gage of the time while he waited for those beyond the doorto move on. But at the count of two hundred his eager hands were uponthe lever, while his eyes were hungry to stare beyond the opening door.
They found nothing but emptiness when the door swung wide. Another roomof luminous walls; another door in the farther wall. The man movedslowly through the doorway one cautious step at a time and stared about.
He found a lever like the others, moved it--and saw the door closesilently behind him. Another lever was near the second door; he pulledcarefully, steadily, upon it.
There was no movement of the door, but something had occurred as heknew by the hissing sound that came from above his head. Its source hecould not find; its result was most startling. For, where before hissuit had bulged out roundly with the inner pressure of one atmosphere,it now became less taut--and it hung loosely about him when the hissingceased.
"An air-lock," said Spud joyfully, "or I'm a rat-tailed imp myself! Thatmeans a heavier air-pressure inside. And now I know 'tis men folks I'mgoin' to see!"
* * * * *
The lever moved easily now, and the second door swung open and closedbehind him as before. Spud tore recklessly at the fastening of his suit,regardless of the fact that an increased pressure might still come fromsome gas that would mean death to a human. But, like Chet, he found theair fragrant and pure, and he rid himself of the encumbering suit,strapped the pistols at his waist, rolled the suit to a bundle he couldsling over one shoulder, and moved carefully as a cat as he went forwardthrough a corridor that led down and still down.
As he went the empty labyrinth of halls filled him with a horribledepression; yet there was beauty everywhere--beauty whose delicacy ofcurve and color filled even the untrained mind of Spud O'Malley with athrill of delight.
There were halls and vast rooms without number; there were carvings thatglowed with a light of their own--figures so filled with the very spiritof livingness that they seemed stepping out from the cold walls to greethim; there were more celestial hosts of purest white poised apparentlyin mid-flight.
There were marvelous, rioting waves of color that pulsed and throbbedthrough the walls and the very air of some rooms; and there werearticles of furniture--carved tables, chairs--objects whose purposeSpud could not guess. But, except for the occasional sound of shrill,squeaking voices in the distance, there was no sign of the presence ofthe builders, the men Spud had hoped to find.
And he knew at last that his quest was hopeless. The dust of uncountedcenturies that lay thickly upon all was evidence as convincing as it wasmute.
"There's naught but the devils!" Spud despaired. "The others--saints behelpin' of them!--have been gone for more years than a man dares thinkof. So, the devils it is; I'll follow them--I'll go where they are. ButI'm not so sure at all of findin' the lad now."
* * * * *
That high-pitched chattering that had come to him at times was his onlyguide now. It seemed echoing in greater volume from one passage thatslanted down more sharply than the rest. Spud followed it, clinging withhands and feet to the steep-pitched floor; but some sudden impulseseized him and compelled him to stop at intervals while he drew a pistolfrom his belt. Its grip was of steelite that rang sharply as a bell whenhe struck it upon the walls. And he tapped out the general call of theService time after time; then strained his faculties in eager listeninguntil he went hopelessly on.
But he repeated the call. "For the lad may hear it and be heartened," heargued. "And if he's free to do it he'll answer--though I think I'dbreak down and cry with joy did I hear an answerin' rap."
And still the chattering grew louder, while the watching, creeping manmoved stealthily on. A wave of gas came to him once and set him choking,while far ahead he saw a reflected glow more red than the pale, lucentshimmering of the walls.
He stopped dead still as once more there flooded through him a thousandunnamed fears of this domain of the Evil One where he would trespass.But he forced his feet to carry him on until he could peer down througha rift in the rock floor to behold another room whose walls glowed redlywith the light of fires far down in hot-throated pits.
* * * * *
There were figures whose white bodies shone as redly in thatglow--figures that floated on outspread leather wings of dead black.Small wonder that the mind of Spud O'Malley found here the confirmationof his worst fears; small wonder that his trembling lips whispered:"'Tis Hell! 'Tis Hell, at last!"
But there was that which froze his quivering nerves to cold quiet, whichset his lips into a grim, straight line and held him motionless abovethe opening from which he saw the room below--as, from a flurry ofbodies against one far side, he saw a girl emerge.
She was in the hands of the black-winged beasts who carried her into theair then swung out toward the fiery pit. And Spud's incredulous: "Oh,the poor, beautiful darlin'!" rose unconsciously to his lips to die awayin a quick-drawn breath. For, from the mass of bodies, another figurewas tossed up into the air to be gripped by black, waiting claws--andSpud knew that he was seeing Chet Bullard, fighting, struggling, in thegrasp of these demons from the Pit.
* * * * *
The fumes from that inferno rose straight up. They passed out at anotherfunnel-shaped throat except for an occasional eddy that whirled backtoward the watching man. But Spud O'Malley, hanging precariously fromthat opening above, knew nothing of the sulphurous fumes or of thetight band they clamped about his throat. He was taking careful aim atthe first of the flying beasts, found Chet in his line of fire, andsnapped forward his pistol to fire at the lip of the pit instead. And heslipped forward the continuous discharge lever that caused the pistol toshake in his hand as it emptied its capacious magazine in a furious rainof bullets whose every end was tipped with the deadliest explosive ofEarth.
The floor rose up toward him in a spouting volcano of fire, while Spudglared wildly through glazed and blinded eyes and swung his pistol torake the flying horde where he knew Chet was not.
He saw, through the haze that was sweeping before him, Chet's sprawledbody on the floor; he saw him leap to his feet and rush to the rescue ofthe girl. Then the empty pistol slipped from Spud's nerveless hand; andhis other, that had clung with unshakable grip to a sharp edge of rock,relaxed, while he plunged headlong toward the floor below.
The Finding of Haldgren Page 9