by Jerry
To this day I have guarded carefully the half dollar, protecting to the best of my ability the world and home of Celina, the girl of Ted’s dreams. The girl whose charm and beauty had innocently led him to his death. Perhaps Ted was right when he referred to the universe where all would meet some day. Perhaps he will again meet the girl of his desire in a world where all worlds unite, and where no barriers of time and space will separate them.
THE END.
WHEN SPACE RIPPED OPEN
Ralph W. Wilkins
WE never become too tired to shout from the house tops warnings of the insect peril which faces humanity and now is, we believe, greater than at any previous time during the history of this planet. When wild animals roamed the earth, it was a comparatively simple matter to exterminate them, because they could be fought in the open and held in check. But against insects, humanity is at a terrific disadvantage; because by the time certain insects and their ravages become known to us it is usually too late. Witness, for instance, the recent collapse of over twenty banks in Florida caused directly by the ravages of the Mediterranean fruit fly; which so damaged Florida crops that an enormous number of the fruit growers of Florida were ruined.
Modern transportation is one of the reasons for the increasing insect peril. Years ago, it was comparatively difficult for insects to emigrate from one country to another. Nowadays, our trans-Atlantic steamers, our railroads, and our airplanes are frequently infested with certain insect types, and they are usually discovered too late.
“When Space Ripped Open” deals with an insect peril of a totally different type; yet the fundamentals remain, the same. Incidentally, you will find this a tremendous story from beginning to end.
WE WERE all seated cozily in my stateroom on the Meteor while a heavy storm raged outside. In spite of the nasty weather, the great airship winged her way through the air above the old continent of Europe with a scarcely perceptible motion. We had been drawn away from the promenade deck—not because of the storm, for the deck was, of course, enclosed. But a blaring, feverish dance was in full swing on that part of the ship and we, anxious to escape crowds and the rush of city life, gave the place a wide berth.
It seemed, in fact, as if the thousand-odd passengers on the Meteor were engaged in a conspiracy to rob us of the peace and quiet that we had hoped to find aboard the great air-boat. A talking picture was being screened in the drawing room; an impromptu male chorus was roaring out a repertoire of choice songs in the smoking room; and the lounge was filled with flitting, gabbling creatures who were constantly coming and going from the ball in progress above.
We were driven perforce into a stateroom, and mine happened to be the nearest. There we sat in glum silence for a while, sipping the drinks that the steward had brought us. Finally the Philosopher spoke.
“After all,” he said, “where is there to be found a better place to spend a blustering night like this? Here we are, snug, warm, and cozy while, far below on land and sea, winds blow, rains lash, and cold bites. It is just the sort of night for the Captain to say, ‘Antonio, tell us a story.’ That is all we need to make this a night of nights—a good story. And although it is not his turn to do so, I more than half suspect that the Historian has in his possession a yarn worth hearing.”
The Historian smiled:
“I don’t know where the Philosopher learns all he knows,” he said, “but it is true that I have recently unearthed a very strange and vivid yam (as our friend here calls it) concerning the ‘Great Catastrophe’ which fell upon the race near the end of the twentieth century. It is very startling to recall, is it not, that at that time—only three hundred short years ago—the wild waste which we knew as Europe was a very populous country? Asia, too, was peopled by millions of human beings, and so also were South America and Africa. We accept too readily and with too little reflection the fact that man managed to meet and overcome the great problems of that awful time. We don’t like to remember that man was very nearly swept from the face of this globe. The wilderness below that covers what were once France, Germany, England and Russia, stands as a mark of our struggle for survival. And the windy wastes which were once China and India bear also their silent testimony.
“If we give the matter a thought at all, we count it a matter of great good luck that mankind kept a foothold on the continent of North America where our great civilization now flourishes. As a matter of fact, it did not seem to have been within the plan at all (if there was a plan) that man should survive. All the forces of nature seemed working together to exterminate him. That he survived at all was due to the genius of a truly great man, Professor Abelton. That he was able to keep the flame of knowledge and culture from being extinguished during those fateful years was due to a single fortuitous fact. Without that single advantage, even the genius of Professor Abelton would have been impotent. “Recently, in my researches, I came across a document written by one who passed through the events of that awful time. The man was observant, intelligent, and evidently well-trained in the science of his time; he illustrates in his writing the splendid spirit which actuated the group of which he was a part. Upon him and men like him rested the fate of the world.
“Naturally, the great events through which he lived left their impress upon him. Toward the end of his life, he set these impressions upon paper, and it was my good fortune to find them. He seemed to realize—as I think you will feel, if you hear his story—that the fate of mankind depended on how he and his comrades played their parts 5n those awful stirring times. Would you like to hear his story?”
When we had heartily assented, the Historian took from his pocket a frayed and yellowed manuscript. He settled himself in his chair, took a long drink from his erstwhile-neglected beverage and began reading this strange and wonderful tale: And as we listened, we lost our awareness of our surroundings, of the peace and comfort of this age. The Historian transported us to a stormier time.
CHAPTER II
THE MANUSCRIPT
The Coming of the Terror
WHEN the star that had so long flared had passed, and swung its green, baleful mass into the cold, far, reaches of outer space, men smiled again—but not for long. Those who had foretold a fiery collision with the earth were proved wrong—but not entirely. For, at the very moment when mathematicians had predicted that the crash would come, the earth did indeed seem to falter in its steady course. A convulsive shudder seemed to run through the vitals of the world and many seemed to hear at that moment a sound like the twanging of gigantic bow strings. Then they knew no more. For although no deaths occurred, the whole world at that moment was plunged into unconsciousness. A strange gas, coming apparently from nowhere, swathed the earth in a mantle of involuntary sleep.
When the world awoke again, it found great conflagrations sweeping through its cities, trains piled upon one another in horrible confusion, and great ships sinking and burning at sea. Had this been all, horrible though it was, mankind would have closed up its ranks and recuperated its losses. But this was not all!
The world seemed suddenly to have gone mad. News editors at first refused to print or to believe the extraordinary incredible evidence of their eyes as the paragraphs came ticking in to their offices. “Great monsters preying upon the world,” they read. “Coming apparently from nowhere,” they saw further along on the message: “Giant insects a hundred feet in length sweeping across the sky.”
Frantically they ’phoned each other, all over the United States, and found to their horror that the dispatches of the other papers but corroborated their own. Somehow, in a manner nobody understood, great rapacious monsters had appeared upon the earth and in the skies. It was unbelievable—but it was so! Great wasps far larger than any flying dragon of prehistoric times were roaring through the air, said the dispatches, coming from many diverse parts of the world.
The papers printed their impossible tales at last, and were filled with pictures, sent by radio, of the monsters that were invading the world. No one in North Am
erica knew what to believe. Many considered it to be a gigantic hoax; for how could it be possible that these monsters should appear thus suddenly from nowhere? And further, if they had indeed come, why were they not to be seen in North America? Anxious eyes peered fearfully at the sky, however, to assure their owners all was well. And the skies remained as calm, serene and familiar as ever before.
The newspapers began sending airplanes to the places where the monsters had been seen. Of the hundreds sent, not one returned to report. Then another sinister thing occurred: one by one, the news stations in Europe, Asia, Africa, and South America became silent, like lights in the darkness blinking out, one by one!
Try as they might, the authorities could get no sane story of what was happening to the world. Such information as did indeed come in was like the wild imaginings of mad men—the hallucinations of delirium—or the wild frightfulness of a nightmare.
Soon no information came at all. America was cut off from the rest of the world. No ships from abroad entered our ports, no mail from foreign shores went through our post offices, and the wires and the air formerly busy with news of the world were ominously cold and silent.
In the midst of this wild confusion, there was one man who moved and directed others with a definite purpose, while the rest of the world either fought death with the frantic-impotence of despair, or—as in North America—moved about in fearful uncertainty. This man was Professor Abelton. It was natural that he, through his great corps of workers scattered throughout the world, should be the first to know the true stage of affairs.
Of the two thousand men and women who, at the time of the “Great Catastrophe,” were working for the professor in various parts of the world, only five returned. These five came in high-powered airplanes from as many parts of the globe—but each one was agog and breathless with the same weird story.
Professor Abelton, you should know, was at this time widely known throughout the world; but had the great crisis of which I am writing not come, he might never have become the universal leader of mankind.
In the country then known as the United States of America, where the professor resided, he employed a force of over a thousand scientific workers; enabled to do so by the great wealth accruing to him from his many inventions. These men and women employed by the professor represented the flower of American science; for the fabulous wealth of Professor Abelton enabled him to pay salaries which attracted the very best. It was his dream to give science in this manner an impetus which would cause it to leap ahead as never before in the history of the world. The “Great Catastrophe” prevented his doing that; but it was this group of men and women who, working under his guidance, saved mankind from utter extinction.
Space Ripped Open
ON a vast tract of land owned by Professor Abelton, he had built a model town to accommodate his corps of men and women. This town and the offices and laboratories were situated upon a wide, high plateau in the western part of America, far away from any cities. Here a busy, happy community worked and played until the day when the five airplanes arrived from afar, bearing the news that the end of the world was near.
The professor called us together in the amphitheatre which was used for our convocations. When we were seated he walked quietly upon the rostrum and began speaking, his voice being reproduced by loud speakers at every point of the vast auditorium.
“Men and women,” he said, “we are met here in a solemn and awful moment. It is our misfortune, as it is our privilege, to be living in a time when man is to be weighed in the balances of nature to see if he shall longer encumber the earth. I am speaking, as you are well aware, of the strange things that are happening in all parts of the world today.
“Every one is passing through a hell of doubt and uncertainty as to what has happened, and what is going to happen. The facts are these: some buckling in space prevented the wandering star from colliding with us; but the stress and strain on the superstructure of our universe was so great that in some way fissures have occurred in space, as we know it. The wrenching and pulling of the passing star as it swung back into the infinite has opened up some limbo in fourdimensional space. Great apertures have been ripped open, and through them is pouring a horde—a mighty torrent of gigantic insects.”
He paused and looked at us. “Am I making myself plain?” he asked: “You know that it has long been known that the possible number of dimensions, like the possible number of anything else that can be numbered, is unlimited. For most practical purposes the particular universe in which we are situated may be regarded as having its being in a space of three rectilinear dimensions, and as undergoing translation; which translation is in fact, duration through a fourth dimension—time. By great and sustained analysis, we are able to realize that this universe in which we live, is slightly bent or contorted as it were, into a number of other long unsuspected dimensions. It extends beyond the three chief spatial dimensions into these others, just as a thin sheet of paper—which is practically two-dimensional—extends not only by virtue of its thickness, but also of its crinkles and curvatures, into a third dimension. Do you see?
“Now, just as it is possible for any number of sheets of paper to lie in a pile in three-dimensional space, so it is possible for any number of three-dimensional universes to lie side by side in four-dimensional space, and to undergo a rough parallel in time. It is evident that our universe, by reason of its crinkles and curvatures, extends into the fourth dimension, and close beside us, ‘nearer to us than breathing’ swings another universe, inhabited by giant insects. It is too weird to be true; yet true it is. At this moment the gateways have been opened between two worlds! Some great cataclysm has occurred to rip space wide open! Evidently, for some reason we do not understand, the shock of the charging star which we so much feared was felt by this other world, and these horrible denizens, finding a way to escape open, are pouring into this world of ours!
“In South America, in Africa, in Europe and in Asia these great rips have occurred and through them the fantastic creatures of the other world are madly tumbling to safety. The world from which they are coming is apparently much larger than this one; for the number of giant insects entering our world seems infinite. In some places the sun has been darkened by the myriads of winged horrors in the sky, and the earth is literally covered with monsters whose habitat is the land.
“At present, they are mad with fear. Presently, when they find themselves safe, they will begin to hunt. Man, in adapting the earth for his own use, has nearly cleared it of all animals which these monsters might eat. In consequence, these creatures will hunt man!
“Armies of ants have been observed, and each ant in those armies is ten feet long. Wasps weighing five hundred pounds at least have been seen by the hundreds, roaring across the sky. Dragonflies which are not flies, but real dragons, have already swept down and made gruesome meals of helpless human beings.
“It may be thought by some that Nature is preparing to give over the earth to this new form of life; that this terrible thing that has come upon us is part of nature’s plan. Be that as it may, I can not sit by and supinely submit. I think I can see the turn events will take. If I read the signs aright, we must do two things: first, we must build a town into which no hunting insect can come. Then, when we have caught our breath, we must build an airship big enough to sweep our enemies from the sky. Nothing that we now have will do, for many of the terrors that have entered our world are larger than our largest planes. But, even in these, we can fly higher and more swiftly than our new enemies of the air; and the others which we shall build will enable us to return and fight another day.
“Perhaps there are those among you who listen to my voice who would urge that we bow to Nature in this matter—that having seen Nature’s plan, we should put the lives she has given us into her hands to do with as she will. But I say to you, no! I am not one of those who fondly see in Nature a doting mother, watching over her children. I see in her, rather, a vain, self-willed old beldame
, having her own way regardless of what harm or good comes to others. If you insist upon a metaphor for Nature take this. Nature is our cruel fruitful mother. We are her children—born out of wedlock, and hated by her who bore us. Now in her wantonness she had conceived again—and would drive us out to make home for her latest spawn. Submit? Never! We, the old beldame’s first born, are coming of age. If we could but rid ourselves of the curse of hate that she bequeathed us, all would be well. She will oust us, will she? Not by a damned sight! I call upon you, my friends, to aid me in resisting this outrage, this insult—and to show the old wanton that though she gave us life, we will live it as we chose, and abdicate it never!
“Men and women, this is a turning point in the history of man. If there be a God, he is on our side in this fight! Men and women, what is your answer to me?”
Our answer was an exultant shout that rose from a thousand throats and mounted and rang in the round blue vault of heaven. The fight was on!
CHAPTER III
The Last Refuge
HAD some Rip Van Winkle slept but ten years at this time, he would have been a thousand times more amazed at the changes in the world about him, at the end of his nap than his ancient predecessor. For, in the short space of ten years, the face of the world was changed. Nearly ninety per cent of the population of the globe had been swept away to death in that short space of time. For, in the first onset, those who came in contact with the hordes of gigantic insects were afflicted with a mysterious malady which brought death in a few hours. This plague killed millions; and other plagues, resulting from the unburied dead, killed millions more. Of those who remained, hundreds of thousands met a horrible fate in the dripping maws of the great terrors who now infested the world. Had it not been for Professor Abelton and the great corps of men and women who worked with him, the world would rapidly have plunged into a darkness more gross and deep than that which covered Europe at the fall of the Roman Empire.