by Jerry
“Not be easy,” he repeated bitterly. “It may not even matter.” He looked to the west. “Very shortly now we’ll know.”
“Do you really think it will come again?”
“It must and it will. I know what it is now, and it will do its work to the very end. Even after we’re gone it will do its work. I think that force must encompass the entire globe!”
They continued their search for that destroying force, but it was a hopeless search now. Already they were far from that line of cliffs. Ral knew the weapon must be located in such a way as to receive the sun’s rays, but somehow in their search they had passed it by.
The sun’s rim was touching the horizon when Ral Vahn turned to Chyana and said:
“This may be the end—I mean the very end. I don’t see how our brain tissue can survive another such assault. But before it comes, I want to tell you—I want you to know—”
Chyana thought she knew what Ral Vahn was trying to say, and she wanted to hear him say it; but it was too late. Mech had been watching the sun in the west, and now he howled once, woefully. He must have known what was coming, for he had felt it the night before. Now it was upon them more abruptly than they had expected . . . the sudden dark, and the pulsing blue force leaping to them swiftly . . .
Chyana screamed something that Ral did not hear, for his brain was afire. He thought he yelled, “Chyana, we must stay together!” But already it was too late, for he saw her fleeing away blindly. He felt something else catapulting past him and knew it was Mech, who must also be enduring the torture.
That was the last logical thought Ral had. He ran wildly in what he thought was the direction of the blue force, with some vague notion of reaching its source; but now even that notion was gone, plucked out by the millions of tiny fires that were searing his brain. His flight now was only to escape that livid blue hell, but there was no escape. It was worse this time than it had been before. He stumbled and fell heavily and retained barely enough sanity to know it was useless to rise and flee again. He lay there quite still as the tiny fingers of fire tore at his brain, for he knew this was the end and he knew it would be quick.
CHAPTER SIX
Sacrifice
AGAIN Ral Vahn was conscious of an insistent tugging at his sleeve, but this time he didn’t care and didn’t even open his eyes. His head ached almost unbearably, and he only wanted to get back to blessed oblivion so it would stop.
But the tugging continued, and a sharp bark close to his ear caused his head to split down the middle—or so he thought. He groaned and climbed wearily to his feet, wincing at the excruciating pain in every muscle. He looked down at the metal Mech, and was suddenly envious because Mech had no muscles that could ache. But Mech whined piteously, and Ral knew the dog’s brain must feel the same as his own at that moment. He reached down to touch him, and Mech’s metal tail wagged half-heartedly.
Systematic thought was flowing back to Ral’s brain slowly, but he wished it would hurry. Vaguely he knew there was an important thing—no, two things—that he must determine . . .
Then one of them flashed upon him.
Chyana! With a sudden tightness in his throat he looked around, and Chyana was nowhere to be seen. Ral groaned at the thought of anything happening to her, which would leave him all alone on this world; but even more than that he suddenly realized what she had come to mean to him. He must find Chyana!
Then he knew what the other thing was. The sun! Where was the sun? He looked up, saw it nearly overhead, and realized it was almost noon or a little past noon; at any rate it didn’t leave him many hours until another attack of that blue torture, and he knew a third attack would be the final one . . .
But it was the thought of Chyana that spurred him into activity. He hurried back to that place they had designated as their headquarters. Chyana was not there, and Ral’s heart fell. He shouted her name many times, and the sound went echoing into the vast silence of this barren world. There was no answer. Ral knew she must have heard, if she were—alive. At this thought, he thought suddenly of the cliffs. He hurried there and traversed the entire length of them, peering anxiously below. Chyana’s body was nowhere to be seen. Vahn was at once relieved and dismayed.
As he walked away in his weariness he stumbled over something. Looking down, he saw it was a red, hexagonal piece of tile! He had entirely forgotten HEX—R. Now he shouted in joy. He saw how he could find Chyana, by trailing her through HEX—R’s faithful markings! But these might be yesterday’s old markings. If so, it would take him hours to trail her and it would be too late.
But it was his only solution. He followed the tile-trail easily, through the streets and ruins. At one point another line of tiles crossed the one he was following. Ral hesitated, then decided to continue the way he was going. A short time later, however, the trail led into a pile of debris. Ral recognized the scene as one of the places where a wall had collapsed behind them yesterday during their search. He groaned, for he knew he was on one of HEX—R’s old trails. Quickly he traced his way back to where the other path of tiles had intersected.
He followed this new lead, and his heart leaped as he saw how erratic and wandering the tiles were. It might mean that he was now following the path Chyana had taken in her insane flight the night before. Always the tiles were five long strides apart, and the line doubled and redoubled on itself aimlessly. Ral stayed doggedly with it, sometimes losing sight of the next red marker in piles of debris, but always finding it again after a little search.
After more than an hour of this, the trail led back toward the cliffs, then turned abruptly to the left. Ral followed through a scattered heap of masonry, then up to the entrance of one of the ruined buildings. The tiles continued through this entrance. Ral followed into the half-gloom beyond, and took a few cautious steps before he noticed that the floor ended almost abruptly at his feet, falling away into a dark chasm.
And HEX—R’s trail led right up to the lip of this brink.
FEARFULLY Ral peered below, knowing that if HEX—R had gone here Chyana must have gone before. Gradually his gaze penetrated the darkness and he saw that the drop was about fifteen feet. He slid backward over the brink, held by his hands for a moment and dropped, alighting with a force that jarred his teeth.
Above him Mech peered over the edge and cried. Ral called to him to come, but Mech wouldn’t make the jump into the dark.
“All right, Mech, I’m sorry,” Ral said to him. “I may never see you again. Wish you’d come, but I can’t wait.”
Mech cried again but Ral moved away in the darkness, feeling his way along what seemed to be a rough, narrow tunnel. For perhaps fifty yards he moved, then the tunnel was suddenly blocked with stone that seemed to have come down upon it from above.
There was sudden fear in Ral’s heart at the thought that Chyana might be lying just beyond him, crushed. For an hour he worked feverishly in the dark, clearing his way through. Just as he got through he came upon HEX—R, twisted and battered. His heart was light again, for this meant Chyana must have barely got through before the collapse caught HEX—R behind her. Ral felt a moment of sadness for the faithful tile-layer, and a pang of regret that he would probably never know the secret of its bizarre attachment to Chyana.
He felt a current of fresh air ahead of him now, and pushed hurriedly forward. He saw a pale gleam of light that increased as he advanced. A few hundred yards further the tunnel opened abruptly into a wide grotto. On the opposite side of the grotto was another wide opening through which he could see the red setting sun. He could also see the vast black plain stretching out far below. He knew he was somewhere beneath the cliff.
But these details were of little importance just then, for he also saw, standing there waiting for him—Chyana.
CHYANA released herself from Ral’s frantic embrace. “Yes, I’m all right,” she said in answer to his anxious inquiries, “except I got an awful bump on the head when I fell into the tunnel back there!” She rubbed it ruefully. “That w
as sometime last night. I’ve been here all day heaving rocks down the side of the cliff!”
Ral Vahn looked startled, and Chyana laughed bitterly. “I’ll show you what I mean,” she said. “I’ve found what we were looking for!” She led Ral over to the opening overlooking the black plain. “Down there,” and she pointed down the side of the cliff.
Ral peered over the edge. About fifty feet below, but far over to the left, he saw what was undoubtedly the destructive weapon. It rested solidly on a wide, smooth promontory about halfway down the side of the cliff. That section of the cliff overhung it slightly, which had prevented them from spotting it from above. As to the weapon itself, all Ral could see was a huge convex lens that must have been twenty feet across. Behind it he could see hundreds of metal filaments that converged into thick cables. These led back into the cliff out of sight. The whole thing rested on a free-swinging pivot. At the present moment the huge lens was directly facing the reddening sun, which was very low in the west.
“It turns with the sun,” Chyana said. “The lens is directly facing the sun all the time. When I first saw it this morning it was far over this way, and I could see it slowly turning as the sun moved across the sky.”
“Yes, I can see how it works,” Ral replied. “But we’ve got to smash it! We haven’t much time!”
Chyana laughed a bit hysterically. “Oh, yes, we’ve got to smash it! What do you suppose I’ve been doing here all day?” She pointed to a little pile of broken stone and masonry. “That pile was nearly as high as my head. I hauled it all here from down the tunnel where the cave-in occurred. Then I spent hours heaving it all down to hit that lens. My arms are nearly dead! When it was facing in this direction I could hit it part of the time, but the stones simply glanced off. Now it’s almost impossible!”
“Poor Chyana,” Ral said. “But I’ll try it. This is an awkward angle, but we’ve got to keep at it. It’s our only chance!”
RAL TRIED leaning as far out over the cliff as he dared. He clutched at the wall with his left hand; with his right he heaved the stones in a huge arc, much as a shot-putter might. But out of every dozen attempts he could only score four or five hits, and these only glanced off of the lens harmlessly and hurtled to the plain far below. Meanwhile Chyana, despite her weariness, hurried back and forth down the tunnel bringing more ammunition.
“Bring the largest and heaviest pieces you can find!” Ral called.
But he soon saw it was to no avail. They ceased their efforts out of sheer collapse and despair.
“Then this is the end,” Ral groaned. “To be so near, and yet so far! To be within the very sight of it—”
“We can go back above,” Chyana cried, “and get something to lower one of us down there—some vines—”
But Ral pouted to the sun, now almost touching the horizon. “Too late. We’ve only a few minutes at most.” Again he surveyed the face of the cliff that dropped sheer below them. This time he saw something he had overlooked before. About twenty feet below their opening, a narrow ledge jutted out from the cliff. It was hardly two feet wide, and became gradually narrower as it extended to the left. The point where the ledge disappeared entirely was directly over that lens, about thirty feet above it.
A sudden hope flooded over Ral. But then he saw that what he was thinking would be a desperate, even a foolhardy attempt. If he held by his hands and dropped to that ledge, there was a fifty-fifty chance that he would lose his balance and plunge the remaining hundred and fifty feet below. If he did gain the ledge safely, Chyana might toss him some of the heavy stones, and from his closer position he might smash the lens.
But even as these frantic thoughts raced through his brain he knew it was impossible. He could never get close enough. And by the time they could have a makeshift rope ready, it would be too late. The sun was very near to setting now . . .
“Listen!” Chyana said. They heard a sudden clattering sound from far down the tunnel, then Mech came running out of the tunnel into the grotto. But he was hobbling rather than running, for one of his rear metal legs was hopelessly bent. Evidently this had happened when Mech, overcoming his fear, had leaped down into the dark tunnel. He did not seem to mind it, however, or even notice it. He barked joyfully when he saw Chyana and Ral. He came over to Ral, who spoke to him tonelessly.
Mech stood at the cliff edge and looked out at the reddening sun. He lifted his head and howled mournfully.
“You see, he remembers!” Vahn said. “Yes, Mech old boy, it’s going to happen again. But just once more, I’ll guarantee you that.” In a last desperate attempt Vahn heaved a few more stones.
Mech remembered indeed! He looked at the sun, then at Ral, and cried again pitifully. He ran aimlessly back into the tunnel a short distance, then came back to where Ral was standing. It was as though he were trying to escape from what he knew was coming, but realized it was no use. He looked down at the ledge below. His front legs stiffened, then he drew back instinctively. He looked up at his master and cried again, plaintively. Again he approached very close to the brink and looked down. He made several little hesitating movements.
Ral suddenly cried, “Don’t, Mech—don’t!” He made a frantic grab at Mech.
But it was too late. Mech had disappeared over the edge.
THEY SAW him strike the narrow ledge below. For a breathless moment, his bent and useless leg slipped over the edge. He clung there perilously for a moment, then clawed frantically and regained his footing. Breathlessly Ral and Chyana watched. Chyana whispered in an awed, but excited voice: “I remember, Ral! Now I remember!” But Ral scarcely heard.
Very carefully Mech moved along that ledge toward the lens below. Then the ledge narrowed and he could move no further. As Mech hesitated, they heard a click and saw the huge lens swing back to center. At the same time there came a smooth, humming sound as of huge dynamos in operation. They saw the filaments begin to glow beneath the lens. The glow brightened. They knew that in a few seconds those blue waves of torture would burst forth again . . .
Mech must have known it too. They heard him cry deep in his throat. He tried to turn back and look up at them, but the ledge where he stood was too narrow. He barked once, sharply—then leaped far and accurate. The metal body formed an arc reflecting the dying rays of the sun. It hit the lens truly in the center, and crashed through. There was a single, tremendous flash of blue, a sputter of fused and molten metal, then—silence.
CHYANA WAS crying softly, but Ral Vahn was not. He hadn’t liked Mech in his new metal body; but in Ral’s soul now, at the thought of Mech’s sacrifice, there was only a vast singing quiet too deep for tears.
Chyana was clinging to him, and through her tears she was saying again—but reverently:
“I remember it now—I remember it all. That’s the way it happened. It was all true, then, not a myth!”
Ral Vahn was suddenly very, tired, but as he sank down upon the floor he managed to ask, “What do you remember, Chyana? What’s that about a myth?”
“The book I was telling you about! The book I read, which the Council of Scientists pronounced as preposterous. I thought all of this reminded me of it, but in a vague, distorted way. Not until that final act of Mech’s was I sure. That brought it all back!”
Chyana was very excited now, but Ral was so tired he could only ask wearily, “What about Mech?”
“He was in the book! It was exactly like that! All the rest of the book was interpreted, and misinterpreted, and exaggerated through the thousands of years, until it became a legend which was finally disbelieved. There was no mention of a history or a civilization before the legend; the legend was supposed to be the beginning! It told of two persons who somehow came from thousands of years apart, and met each other in a twilight place, and through this miracle the race was born . . .”
Gone was Ral Vahn’s weariness as the realization burst on him. “Thousands of years apart! A twilight place! But Chyana, that’s us! This is the twilight of my race . . .”
&nbs
p; “And the dawn of mine, Ral Vahn. Yes, it’s a miracle in time. The Council of Scientists had to send me back here, or they could never have existed! By sending me back they unknowingly caused the beginning of the new race. And I remember something else about that legendary book, Ral Vahn!”
“What is that?” asked Ral, his mind just beginning to grasp the tremendous thought of all that lay ahead.
“I remember the title of that book. It was The New Beginning. And I remember the author! Although the story changed through translations, and gradually became legend, the name of the author remained, and the name was—”
“Yes?”
“Ral Vahn!”
THE END
EMERGENCY LANDING
Ralph Williams
The USN 1156 landed at an emergency landing field. They were out of fuel. But the fuel they wanted was water, and not for propeller-spinning engines—
THE funny part about this is that Burke was perfectly sober. Not that he is in the habit of coming on watch drunk, but then it just isn’t the sort of thing that happens to a sober person. I had the evening watch that day, and when he relieved me at midnight he was absolutely normal.
When I left he was settling down in the chief’s chair with a detective story magazine. The CAA frowns on that—the magazine, I mean, not the chief’s chair—but most of us do read on duty, especially on the midwatch, because ordinarily there is nothing to do at an intermediate landing field between midnight and eight but get out the weather once an hour, and reading is about the only way to keep from getting sleepy. But once in a while things do happen, which is why they keep a twenty-four-hour watch at these places.
It must have been around one twenty that things began to happen on this night. About that time Burke glanced up at the clock and decided it was time to start taking his weather—a job that wasn’t likely to prove very interesting, since conditions had been “ceiling and visibility unlimited” all evening, and the forecasts stubbornly maintained that they would continue so—so he put aside his magazine and stepped outside to read the thermometers.