by Various
From the Ocean's Depths
_By Sewell Peaslee Wright_
Man came from the sea. Mercer, by his thought-telegraph, learns from the weirdly beautiful ocean-maiden of a branch that returned there.
_Her head was a little to one side, in the attitude of onewho listens intently._]
From somewhere out on the black, heaving Atlantic, the rapid, muffledpopping of a speed-boat's exhaust drifted clearly through the night.
I dropped my book and stretched, leaning back more comfortably in mychair. There was real romance and adventure! Rum-runners, seeking outtheir hidden port with their cargo of contraband from Cuba. Headingfearlessly through the darkness, fighting the high seas, still runningafter the storm of a day or so before, daring a thousand dangers for thesake of the straw-packed bottles they carried. Sea-bronzed men, withhard, flat muscles and fearless eyes; ready guns slapping their thighsas they--
Absorbed in my mental picture of these modern free-booters, the suddenalarm of the telephone startled me like an unexpected shot fired besidemy ear. Brushing the cigarette ashes from my smoking-jacket, I crossedthe room and snatched up the receiver.
"Hello!" I snapped ungraciously into the mouthpiece. It was after elevenby the ship's clock on the mantel, and if--
"Taylor?" The voice--Warren Mercer's familiar voice--rattled on withoutwaiting for a reply. "Get in your car and come down here as fast aspossible. Come just as you are, and--"
* * * * *
"What's the matter?" I managed to interrupt him. "Burglars?" I had neverheard Mercer speak in that high-pitched, excited voice before; his usualspeech was slow and thoughtful, almost didactic.
"Please, Taylor, don't waste time questioning me. If it weren't urgent,I wouldn't be calling you, you know. Will you come?"
"You bet!" I said quickly, feeling rather a fool for ragging him when hewas in such deadly earnest. "Have--"
The receiver snapped and crackled; Mercer had hung up the instant he hadmy assurance that I would come. Usually the very soul of courtesy andconsideration, that act alone would have convinced me that there was anurgent need for my presence at The Monstrosity. That was Mercer's ownname for the impressive pile that was at once his residence and hislaboratory.
I threw off the smoking-jacket and pulled on a woolen golfing sweater,for the wind was brisk and sharpish. In two minutes I was backing thecar out of the garage; a moment later I was off the gravelled drive andtearing down the concrete with the accelerator all the way down, and theblack wind shrieking around the windshield of my little roadster.
My own shack was out of the city limits--a little place I keep to livein when the urge to go fishing seizes me, which is generally about twicea year. Mercer picked the place up for me at a song.
The Monstrosity was some four miles further out from town, and off thehighway perhaps a half-mile more.
I made the four miles in just a shade over that many minutes, andclamped on the brakes as I saw the entrance to the little drive that ledtoward the sea, and Mercer's estate.
* * * * *
With gravel rattling on my fenders, I turned off the concrete and sweptbetween the two massive, stuccoed pillars that guarded the drive. Bothof them bore corroded bronze plates, "The Billows," the name given TheMonstrosity by the original owner, a newly-rich munitions manufacturer.
The structure itself loomed up before me in a few seconds, a ramblingaffair with square-shouldered balconies and a great deal of wrought-ironwork, after the most flamboyant Spanish pattern. It was ablaze withlight. Apparently every bulb in the place was burning.
Just a few yards beyond the surf boomed hollowly on the smooth, shadyshore, littered now, I knew, by the pitiful spoils of the storm.
As I clamped on my brakes, a swift shadow passed two of the lowerwindows. Before I could leap from the car, the broad front door, withits rounded top and circular, grilled window, was flung wide, and Mercercame running to meet me.
He was wearing a bathrobe, hastily flung on over a damp bathing suit,his bare legs terminating in a pair of disreputable slippers.
"Fine, Taylor!" he greeted me. "I suppose you're wondering what it's allabout. I don't blame you. But come in, come in! Just wait till you seeher!"
"Her?" I asked, startled. "You're not in love, by any chance, andbringing me down here like this merely to back up your own opinion ofthem eyes and them lips, Mercer?"
* * * * *
He laughed excitedly.
"You'll see, you'll see! No, I'm not in love. And I want you to help,and not admire. There are only Carson and myself here, you know, and thejob's too big for the two of us." He hurried me across the broadconcrete porch and into the house. "Throw the cap anywhere and comeon!"
Too much amazed to comment further, I followed my friend. This was aWarren Mercer I did not know. Usually his clean-cut, olive-tinted facewas a polite mask that seldom showed even the slightest trace ofemotion. His eyes, dark and large, smiled easily, and shone withinterest, but his almost beautiful mouth, beneath the long slimmustache, always closely cropped, seldom smiled with his eyes.
But it was his present excited speech that amazed me most. Mercer,during all the years I had known him, had never been moved before tosuch tempestuous outbursts of enthusiasm. It was his habit to speakslowly and thoughtfully, in his low, musical voice; even in the midst ofour hottest arguments, and we had had many of them, his voice had neverlost its calm, unhurried gentleness.
To my surprise, instead of leading the way to the really comfortable,although rather gaudy living room, Mercer turned to the left, towardswhat had been the billiard room, and was now his laboratory.
The laboratory, brilliantly illuminated, was littered, as usual, withapparatus of every description. Along one wall were the retorts, scales,racks, hoods and elaborate set-ups, like the articulated glass andrubber bones of some weird prehistoric monster, that demonstratedMercer's taste for this branch of science. On the other side of the rooma corresponding workbench was littered with a tangle of coils,transformers, meters, tools and instruments, and at the end of theroom, behind high black control panels, with gleaming bus-bars andstaring, gaping meters, a pair of generators hummed softly. The otherend of the room was nearly all glass, and opened onto the patio and theswimming pool.
* * * * *
Mercer paused a moment, with his hand on the knob of the door, a strangelight in his dark eyes.
"Now you'll see why I called you here," he said tensely. "You can judgefor yourself whether the trip was worth while. Here she is!"
With a gesture he flung open the door, and I stared, following hisglance, down at the great tiled swimming pool.
It is difficult for me to describe the scene. The patio was not large,but it was beautifully done. Flowers and shrubs, even a few small palms,grew in profusion in the enclosure, while above, through the movableglass roof--made in sections to disappear in fine weather--was the emptyblackness of the sky.
None of the lights provided for the illumination of the covered patiowas turned on, but all the windows surrounding the patio were aglow, andI could see the pool quite clearly.
The pool--and its occupant.
* * * * *
We were standing at one side of the pool, near the center. Directlyopposite us, seated on the bottom of the pool, was a human figure, nudesave for a great mass of tawny hair that fell about her like a silkenmantle. The strangely graceful figure of a girl, one leg stretched outstraight before her, the other drawn up and clasped by the interlockedfingers of her hands. Even in the soft light I could see her perfectly,through the clear water, her pale body outlined sharply against the jadegreen tiles.
I tore myself away from the staring, curious eyes of the figure.
"In God's name, Mercer, what is it? Porcelain?" I asked hoarsely. Thething had an indescribably eery effect.
He laughed wildly.
My eyes followed his pointing finger. The figure was moving. Gracefullyit arose to its full height. The great cloud of corn-colored hairfloated down about it, falling below the knees. Slowly, with a grace ofmovement comparable only with the slow soaring of a gull, she cametoward me, walking on the bottom of the pool through the clear water asthough she floated in air.
* * * * *
Fascinated, I watched her. Her eyes, startlingly large and dark in thestrangely white face, were fixed on mine. There was nothing sinister inthe gaze, yet I felt my body shaking as though in the grip of a terriblefear. I tried to look away, and found myself unable to move. I feltMercer's tense, sudden grip upon my arm, but I did not, could not, lookat him.
"She--she's smiling!" I heard him exclaim. He laughed, an excited,high-pitched laugh that irritated me in some subtle way.
She was smiling, and looking up into my eyes. She was very close now,within a few feet of us. She came still closer, until she was at my veryfeet as I stood on the raised ledge that ran around the edge of thepool, her head thrown back, staring straight up at me through thewater.
I could see her teeth, very white between her coral-pink lips, and herbosom rising and falling beneath the veil of pale gold hair. She wasbreathing _water_!
Mercer literally jerked me away from the edge of the pool.
"What do you think of her, Taylor?" he asked, his dark eyes dancing withexcitement.
"Tell me about it," I said, shaking my head dazedly. "She is nothuman?"
"I don't know. I think so. As human as you or I. I'll tell you all Iknow, and then you can judge for yourself. I think we'll know in a fewminutes, if my plans work out. But first slip on a bathing suit."
I didn't argue the matter. I let Mercer lead me away without a word. Andwhile I was changing, he told me all he knew of the strange creature inthe pool.
* * * * *
"Late this afternoon I decided to go for a little walk along the beach,"Mercer began. "I had been working like the devil since early in themorning, running some tests on what you call my thought-telegraph. Ifelt the need of some fresh sea air.
"I walked along briskly for perhaps five minutes, keeping just out ofreach of the rollers and the spray. The shore was littered with allsorts of flotsam and jetsam washed up by the big storm, and I was justthinking that I would have to have a man with a truck come and clean upthe shore in front of the place, when, in a little sandy pool, Isaw--_her_.
* * * * *
"She was laying face down in the water, motionless, her head towards thesea, one arm stretched out before her, and her long hair wrapped aroundher like a half-transparent cloak.
"I ran up and lifted her from the water. Her body was cold, and deathlywhite, although her lips were faintly pink, and her heart was beating,faintly but steadily.
"Like most people in an emergency. I forgot all I ever knew about firstaid. All I could think of was to give her a drink, and of course Ididn't have a flask on my person. So I picked her up in my arms andbrought her to the house as quickly as I could. She seemed to bereviving, for she was struggling and gasping when I got here with her.
"I placed her on the bed in the guest room and poured her a stiff drinkof Scotch--half a tumblerful, I believe. Lifting up her head, I placedthe glass to her lips. She looked up me, blinking, and took the liquorin a single draught. She did not seem to drink it, but sucked it out ofthe glass in a single amazing gulp--that's the only word for it. Thenext instant she was off the bed, her face a perfect mask of hate andagony.
"She came at me, hands clutching and clawing, making odd murmuring ormewing sounds in her throat. It was then that I noticed for the firsttime that her hands were webbed!"
* * * * *
"Webbed?" I asked, startled.
"Webbed," nodded Mercer solemnly. "As are her feet. But listen, Taylor.I was amazed, and not a little rattled when she came for me. I ranthrough the French windows out into the patio. For a moment she ranafter me, rather awkwardly and heavily, but swiftly, nevertheless. Thenshe saw the pool.
"Apparently forgetting that I existed, she leaped into the water, and asI approached a moment later I could see her breathing deeply andgratefully, a smile of relief upon her features, as she lay upon thebottom of the pool. Breathing, Taylor, on the bottom of the pool! Undereight feet of water!"
"And then what, Mercer?" I reminded him, as he paused, apparently lostin thought.
"I tried to find out more about her. I put on my bathing suit and divedinto the pool. Well, she came at me like a shark, quick as a flash, herteeth showing, her hands tearing like claws through the water. I turned,but not quickly enough to entirely escape. See?" Mercer threw back thedressing robe, and I saw a ragged tear in his bathing suit on his leftside, near the waist. Through the rent three deep, jagged scratches wereclearly visible.
* * * * *
"She managed to claw me, just once," Mercer resumed, wrapping the robeabout him again. "Then I got out and called on Carson for help. I puthim into a bathing suit, and we both endeavored to corner her. Carsongot two bad scratches, and one rather serious bite that I have bandaged.I have a number of lacerations, but I didn't fare so badly as Carsonbecause I am faster in the water than he is.
"The harder we tried, the more determined I became. She would sit there,calm and placid, until one of us entered the water. Then she became averitable fury. It was maddening.
"At last I thought of you. I phoned, and here we are!"
"But, Mercer, it's a nightmare!" I protested. We moved out of the room."Nothing human can live under water and breathe water, as she does!"
Mercer paused a moment, staring at me oddly.
"The human race," he said gravely, "came up out of sea. The human raceas we know it. Some may have gone back." He turned and walked awayagain, and I hurried after him.
"What do you mean. Mercer? 'Some may have gone back?' I don't get it."
Mercer shook his head, but made no other reply until we stood again onthe edge of the pool.
The girl was standing where we had left her, and as she looked up intomy face, she smiled again, and made a quick gesture with one hand. Itseemed to me that she invited me to join her.
* * * * *
"I believe she likes you, Taylor," said Mercer thoughtfully. "You'relight, light skin, light hair. Carson and I are both very dark, almostswarthy. And in that white bathing suit--yes, I believe she's taken afancy to you!"
Mercer's eyes were dancing.
"If she has," he went on, "it'll make our work very easy."
"What work?" I asked suspiciously. Mercer, always an indefatigableexperimenter, was never above using his friends in the benefit ofscience. And some of his experiments in the past had been rather trying,not to say exciting.
"I think I have what you call my thought-telegraph perfected,experimentally," he explained rapidly. "I fell asleep working on it atthree o'clock, or thereabouts, this morning, and some tests with Carsonseem to indicate that it is a success. I should have called youto-morrow, for further test. Nearly five years of damned hard work to asuccessful conclusion, Taylor, and then this mermaid comes along andmakes my experiment appear about as important as one of those breakersrolling in out there!"
"And what do you plan to do now?" I asked eagerly, glancing down at thebeautiful pale face that glimmered up at me through the clear water ofthe pool.
* * * * *
"Why, try it on her!" exclaimed Mercer with mounting enthusiasm. "Don'tyou see, Taylor? If it will work on her, and we can direct her thoughts,we can find out her history, the history of her people! We'll add a pageto scientific history--a whole big chapter!--that will make us famous.Man this is so big it's swept me off my feet! Look!" And he held out athin, aristocratic brown hand before my eyes, a hand that shook withnervous
excitement.
"I don't blame you," I said quickly. "I'm no savant, and still I seewhat an amazing thing this is. Let's get busy. What can I do?"
Mercer reached around the door into the laboratory and pressed abutton.
"For Carson," he explained. "We'll need his help. In the meantime, we'lllook over the set-up. The apparatus is strewn all over the place."
He had not exaggerated. The set-up consisted of a whole bank of tubes,each one in its own shielding copper box. On a much-drilled horizontalpanel, propped up on insulators, were half a score of delicate meters ofone kind and another, with thin black fingers that pulsed and trembled.Behind the panel was a tall cylinder wound with shining copper wire, andbeside it another panel, upright, fairly bristling with knobs, contactpoints, potentiometers, rheostats and switches. On the end of the tablenearest the door was still another panel, the smallest of the lot,bearing only a series of jacks along one side, and in the center aswitch with four contact points. A heavy, snaky cable led from thispanel to the maze of apparatus further on.
* * * * *
"This is the control panel," explained Mercer. "The whole affair, youunderstand, is in laboratory form. Nothing assembled. Put the differentantennae plug into these jacks. Like this."
He picked up a weird, hastily built contrivance composed of twosemi-circular pieces of spring brass, crossed at right angles. On allfour ends were bright silvery electrodes, three of them circular inshape, one of them elongated and slightly curved. With a quick, nervousgesture, Mercer fitted the thing to his head, so that the elongatedelectrode pressed against the back of his neck, extending a few inchesdown his spine. The other three circular electrodes rested on hisforehead and either side of his head. From the center of the contrivanceran a heavy insulated cord, some ten feet in length, ending in a simpleswitchboard plug, which Mercer fitted into the uppermost of the threejacks.
"Now," he directed, "you put on this one"--he adjusted a secondcontrivance upon my head, smiling as I shrank from the contact of thecold metal on my skin--"and think!"
He moved the switch from the position marked "Off" to the second contactpoint, watching me intently, his dark eyes gleaming.
Carson entered, and Mercer gestured to him to wait. Very nice old chap,Carson, impressive even in his bathing suit. Mercer was mighty lucky tohave a man like Carson....
* * * * *
Something seemed to tick suddenly, somewhere deep in my consciousness.
"Yes, that's very true: Carson is a most decent sort of chap." The wordswere not spoken. I did not _hear_ them, I _knew_ them. What--I glancedat Mercer, and he laughed aloud with pleasure and excitement.
"It worked!" he cried. "I received your thought regarding Carson, andthen turned the switch so that you received my thought. And you did!"
Rather gingerly I removed the thing from my head and laid it on thetable.
"It's wizardry, Mercer! If it will work as well on _her_...."
"It will, I know it will!--if we can get her to wear one of these,"replied Mercer confidently. "I have only three of them; I had plannedsome three-cornered experiments with you, Carson, and myself. We'llleave Carson out of to-night's experiment, however, for we'll need himto operate this switch. You see, as it is now wired only one persontransmits thoughts at a time. The other two receive. When the switch ison the first contact, Number One sends, and Numbers Two and Threereceive. When the switch is on Number Two, then he sends thoughts, andNumbers One and Three receive them. And so on. I'll lengthen these leadsso that we can run them out into the pool, and then we'll be ready.Somehow we must induce her to wear one of these things, even if we haveto use force. I'm sure the three of us can handle her."
"We should be able to," I smiled. She was such a slim, graceful, almostdelicate little thing; the thought that three strong men might not beable to control her seemed almost amusing.
"You haven't seen her in action yet," said Mercer grimly, glancing upfrom his work of lengthening the cords that led from the antennae to thecontrol panel. "And what's more, I hope you don't."
* * * * *
I watched him in silence as he spliced and securely taped the lastconnection.
"All set," he nodded. "Carson, will you operate the switch for us? Ibelieve everything is functioning properly." He surveyed the panel ofinstruments hastily, assuring himself that every reading was correct.Then, with all three of the devices he called antennae in his hand,their leads plugged into the control panel, he led the way to the sideof the pool.
The girl was strolling around the edge of the pool, feeling the smoothtile sides with her hands as we came into view, but as soon as she sawus she shot through the water to where we were standing.
It was the first time I had seen her move in this fashion. She seemed topropel herself with a sudden mighty thrust of her feet against thebottom; she darted through the water with the speed of an arrow, yetstopped as gently as though she had merely floated there.
As she looked up, her eyes unmistakably sought mine, and her smileseemed warm and inviting. She made again that strange little gesture ofinvitation.
With an effort I glanced at Mercer. There was something devilishlyfascinating about the girl's great, dark, searching eyes.
"I'm going in," I said hoarsely. "Hand me one of your head-set thingswhen I reach for it." Before he could protest, I dived into the pool.
* * * * *
I headed directly towards the heavy bronze ladder that led to the bottomof the pool. I had two reasons in mind. I would need something to keepme under water, with my lungs full of air, and I could get out quicklyif it were necessary. I had not forgotten the livid, jagged furrows inMercer's side.
Quickly as I shot to the ladder she was there before me, a dim, waveringwhite shape, waiting.
I paused, holding to a rung of the ladder with one hand. She camecloser, walking with the airy grace I had noted before, and my heartpounded against my ribs as she raised one long, slim arm towards me.
The hand dropped gently on my shoulder, pressed it as though in tokenof friendship. Perhaps, I thought quickly, this was, with her, a sign ofgreeting. I lifted my own arm and returned the salutation, if salutationit were, aware of a strange rising and falling sound, as of a distanthumming, in my ears.
The sound ceased suddenly, on a rising note, as though of inquiry, andit dawned on me that I had heard the speech of this strange creature.Before I could think of a course of action, my aching lungs reminded meof the need of air, and I released my hold on the ladder and let my bodyrise to the surface.
* * * * *
As my head broke the water, a hand, cold and strong as steel, closedaround my ankle. I looked down. The girl was watching me, and there wasno smile on her face now.
"All right!" I shouted across the pool to Mercer, who was watchinganxiously. Then, filling my lungs with air again, I pulled myself, bymeans of the ladder, to the bottom of the pool. The restraining hand wasremoved instantly.
The strange creature thrust her face close to mine as my feet touchedbottom, and for the first time I saw her features distinctly.
She was beautiful, but in a weird, unearthly sort of way. As I hadalready noticed, her eyes were of unusual size, and I saw now that theywere an intense shade of blue, with a pupil of extraordinary proportion.Her nose was well shaped, but the nostrils were slightly flattened, andthe orifices were rather more elongated than I had ever seen before. Themouth was utterly fascinating, and her teeth, revealed by her engagingsmile, were as perfect as it would be possible to imagine.
The great mane of hair which enveloped her was, as I have said, tawny inhue, and almost translucent, like the stems of some seaweeds I haveseen. And as she raised one slim white hand to brush back some wispsthat floated by her face, I saw distinctly the webs between herfingers. They were barely noticeable, for they were as transparent asthe fins of a fish, but they were ther
e, extending nearly to the lastjoint of each finger.
* * * * *
As her face came close to my own, I became aware of the humming,crooning sound I had heard before, louder this time. I could see, fromthe movement of her throat, that I had been correct in assuming that shewas attempting to speak with me. I smiled back at her and shook my head.She seemed to understand, for the sound ceased, and she studied me witha little thoughtful frown, as though trying to figure out some othermethod of communication.
I pointed upward, for I was feeling the need for fresh air again, andslowly mounted the ladder. This time she did not grasp me, but watchedme intently, as though understanding what I did, and the reasons forit.
"Bring one of your gadgets over here, Mercer," I called across the pool."I think I'm making progress."
"Good boy!" he cried, and came running with two of the antennae, thelong insulated cords trailing behind him. Through the water the girlwatched him, evident dislike in her eyes. She glanced at me with suddensuspicion as Mercer handed me the two instruments, but made no hostilemove.
"You won't be able to stay in the water with her," explained Mercerrapidly. "The salt water would short the antennae, you see. Try to gether to wear one, and then you get your head out of water, and don yours.And remember, she won't be able to communicate with us by words--we'llhave to get her to convey her thoughts by means of mental pictures. I'lltry to impress that on her. Understand?"
* * * * *
I nodded, and picked up one of the instruments. "Fire when ready,Gridley," I commented, and sank again to the bottom of the pool.
I touched the girl's head with one finger, and then pointed to my ownhead, trying to convey to her that she could get her thoughts to me.Then I held up the antennae and placed it on my own head to show that itcould not harm her.
My next move was to offer her the instrument, moving slowly, and smilingreassuringly--no mean feat under water.
She hesitated a moment, and then, her eyes fixed on mine, she slowlyfixed the instrument over her own head as she had seen me adjust it uponmy own.
I smiled and nodded, and pressed her shoulder in token of friendlygreeting. Then, gesturing toward my own head again, and pointing upward.I climbed the ladder.
"All right, Mercer," I shouted. "Start at once, before she growsrestless!"
"I've already started!" he called back, and I hurriedly donned my owninstrument.
Bearing in mind what Mercer had said, I descended the ladder but a fewrungs, so that my head remained out of water, and smiled down at thegirl, touching the instrument on my head, and then pointing to hers.
I could sense Mercer's thoughts now. He was picturing himself walkinglong the shore, with the stormy ocean in the background. Ahead of him Isaw the white body lying face downward in the pool. I saw him run up tothe pool and lift the slim, pale figure in his arms.
* * * * *
Let me make it clear, at this point, that when I say that I sawthese things, I mean only that mental images of them penetrated myconsciousness. I visualized them just as I could close my eyes andvisualize, for example, the fireplace in the living room of my ownhome.
I looked down at the girl. She was frowning, and her eyes were verywide. Her head was a little on one side, in the attitude of one wholistens intently.
Slowly and carefully Mercer thought out the whole story of hisexperiences with the girl until she had plunged into the pool. Then Isaw again the beach, with the girl's figure in the pool. The picturegrew hazy; I realized Mercer was trying to picture the bottom of thesea. Then he pictured again the girl lying in the pool, and once againthe sea. I was aware of the soft little tick in the center of my brainthat announced that the switch had been moved to another contact point.
I glanced down at her. She was staring up at me with her great, curiouseyes, and I sensed, through the medium of the instrument I wore, thatshe was thinking of me. I saw my own features, idealized, glowing with astrange beauty that was certainly none of my own. I realized that I sawmyself, in short, as she saw me. I smiled back at her, and shook myhead.
* * * * *
A strange, dim whirl of pictures swept through my consciousness. I wason the bottom of the ocean. Shadowy shapes swept by silently, and fromabove, a dim bluish light filtered down on a scene such as mortal eyeshave never seen.
All around were strange structures of jagged coral, roughly circular asto base, and rounded on top, resembling very much the igloos of theEskimos. The structures varied greatly in size, and seemed to bearranged in some sort of regular order, like houses along a narrowstreet. Around many of them grew clusters of strange and colorfulseaweeds that waved their banners gently, as though some imperceptiblecurrent dallied with them in passing.
Here and there figures moved, slim white figures that strolled along thenarrow street, or at times shot overhead like veritable torpedoes.
There were both men and women moving there. The men were broader ofshoulder, and their hair, which they wore to their knees, was somewhatdarker in color than that of the women. Both sexes were slim, and therewas a remarkable uniformity of size and appearance.
None of the strange beings wore garments of any kind, nor were theynecessary. The clinging tresses were cinctured at the waist with a sortof cord of twisted orange-colored material, and some of the youngerwomen wore bands of the same material around their brows.
* * * * *
Nearest of all the figures was the girl who was visualizing all this forus. She was walking slowly away from the cluster of coral structures.Once or twice she paused, and seemed to hold conversation with others ofthe strange people, but each time she moved on.
The coral structures grew smaller and poorer. Finally the girl trodalone on the floor of the ocean, between great growths of kelp andseaweeds, with dim, looming masses of faintly tinted coral everywhere.Once she passed close to a tilted, ragged hulk of some ancient vessel,its naked ribs packed with drifted sand.
Sauntering dreamily, she moved away from the ancient derelict. Suddenlya dim shadow swept across the sand at her feet, and she arrowed from thespot like a white, slim meteor. But behind her darted a black andswifter shadow--a shark!
Like a flash she turned and faced the monster. Something she had drawnfrom her girdle shone palely in her hand. It was a knife of whettedstone or bone.
Darting swiftly downward her feet spurned the yellow sand, and she shotat her enemy with amazing speed. The long blade swept in an arc, rippedthe pale belly of the monster just as he turned to dart away.
* * * * *
A great cloud of blood dyed the water. The white figure of the girl shotonward through the scarlet flood.
Blinded, she did not see that the jutting ribs of the ancient ship werein her path. I seemed to see her crash, head on, into one of themassive timbers, and I cried out involuntarily, and glanced down at thegirl in the water at my feet.
Her eyes were glowing. She knew that I had understood.
Hazily, then, I seemed to visualize her body floating limply in thewater. It was all very vague and indistinct, and I understood that thiswas not what she had seen, but what she thought had happened. Theimpressions grew wilder, swirled, grew gray and indistinct. Then I had aview of Mercer's face, so terribly distorted it was barely recognizable.Then a kaleidoscopic maze of inchoate scenes, shot through with flashesof vivid, agonizing colors. The girl was thinking of her suffering,taken out of her native element. In trying to save her, Mercer hadalmost killed her. That, no doubt, was why she hated him.
My own face appeared next, almost godlike in its kindliness and itsimagined beauty, and I noticed now that she was thinking of me with myyellow hair grown long, my nostrils elongated like her own--adjusted toher own ideas of what a man should be.
* * * * *
I flung the instrument from my head and dro
pped to the bottom of thepool. I gripped both her shoulders, gently, to express my thanks andfriendship.
My heart was pounding. There was a strange fascination about this girlfrom the depths of the sea, a subtle appeal that was answered from somedeep subterranean cavern of my being. I forgot, for the moment, who andwhat I was. I remembered only that a note had been sounded that awoke anecho of a long-forgotten instinct.
I think I kissed her. I know her arms were about me, and that I pressedher close, so that our faces almost met. Her great, weirdly blue eyesseemed to bore into my brain. I could feel them throbbing there....
I forgot time and space. I saw only that pale, smiling face and thosegreat dark eyes. Then, strangling, I tore myself from her embrace andshot to the surface.
Coughing, I cleared my lungs of the water I had inhaled. I was weak andshaking when I finished, but my head was clear. The grip of the strangefantasy that had gripped me was shaken off.
Mercer was bending over me; speaking softly.
"I was watching, old man," he said gently. "I can imagine what happened.A momentary, psychic fusing of an ancient, long since broken link. You,together with all mankind, came up out of the sea. But there is noretracing the way."
* * * * *
I nodded, my head bowed on my streaming chest.
"Sorry, Mercer," I muttered. "Something got into me. Those big eyes ofhers seemed to tug at threads of memory ... buried.... I can't describeit...."
He slapped me on my naked shoulder, a blow that stung, as he hadintended it to. It helped jerk me back to the normal.
"You've got your feet on the ground again, Taylor," he commentedsoothingly. "I think there's no danger of you losing your grip on terrafirma again. Shall we carry on?"
"There's more you'd like to learn? That you think she can give us?" Iasked hesitantly.
"I believe," replied Mercer, "that she can give us the history of herpeople, if we can only make her understand what we wish. God! If we onlycould!" The name of the Deity was a prayer as Mercer uttered it.
"We can try, old-timer," I said, a bit shakenly.
Mercer hurried back to the other side of the pool, and I adjusted myhead-set again, smiling down at the girl. If only Mercer could make herunderstand, and if only she knew what we wanted to learn!
I was conscious of the little click that told me the switch had beenmoved. Mercer was ready to get his message to her.
Fixing my eyes on the girl pleadingly, I settled myself by the edge ofthe pool to await the second and more momentous part of our experiment.
* * * * *
The vision was vague, for Mercer was picturing his thoughts withdifficulty. But I seemed to see again the floor of the ocean, with thevague light filtering down from above, and soft, monstrous growthswaving their branches lazily in the flood.
From the left came a band of men and women, looking around as though insearch of some particular spot. They stopped, and one of the older menpointed, the others gathering around him as though in council.
Then the band set to work. Coral growth were dragged to the spot. Thefoundation for one of the semi-circular houses was laid. The sceneswirled and cleared again. The house was completed. Several other houseswere in process of building.
Slowly and deliberately, the scene moved. The houses were left behind.Before my consciousness now was only a vague and shadowy expanse ofocean floor, and in the sand dim imprints that marked where the strangepeople had trod, the vague footprints disappearing in the gloom in thedirection from which the little weary band had come. To me, at least, itwas quite clear that Mercer was asking whence they came. Would it be asclear to the girl? The switch clicked, and for a moment I was sureMercer had not been able to make his question clear to her.
* * * * *
The scene was the interior of one of the coral houses. There werepersons there, seated on stone or coral chairs, padded with marinegrowths. One of the occupants of the room was a very old man; his facewas wrinkled, and his hair was silvery. With him were a man and a woman,and a little girl. Somehow I seemed to recognize the child as the girlin the pool.
The three of them were watching the old man. While his lips did notmove, I could see his throat muscles twitching as the girl's had donewhen she made the murmuring sound I had guessed was her form of speech.
The scene faded. For perhaps thirty seconds I was aware of nothing morethan a dim gray mist that seemed to swirl in stately circles. Then,gradually, it cleared somewhat. I sensed the fact that what I saw nowwas what the old man was telling, and that the majestic, swirling mistwas the turning back of time.
Here was no ocean bottom, but land, rich tropical jungle. Strange exotictrees and dense growths of rank undergrowth choked the earth. The treeswere oddly like undersea growths, which puzzled me for an instant. ThenI recalled that the girl could interpret the old man's words only interms of that which she had seen and understood. This was the way shevisualized the scene.
* * * * *
There was a gray haze of mist everywhere. The leaves were glisteningwith condensed moisture; swift drops fell incessantly to the soakingground below.
Into the scene roamed a pitiful band of people. Men with massive frames,sunken in with starvation, women tottering with weakness. The mencarried great clubs, some tipped with rudely shaped stone heads, andboth men and women clothed only in short kittles of skin.
They searched ceaselessly for something, and I guessed that somethingwas food. Now and then one or the other of the little band tore up aroot and bit at it, and those that did so soon doubled into a twitchingknot of suffering and dropped behind.
At last they came to the edge of the sea. A few yards away the water waslost in the dense steaming miasma that hemmed them in on all sides.With glad expressions on their faces, the party ran down to the edge ofthe water and gathered up great masses of clams and crabs. At first theyate the food raw, tearing the flesh from the shells. Then they made whatI understood was a fire, although the girl was able to visualize it onlyas a bright red spot that flickered.
The scene faded, and there was only the slowly swirling mist that Iunderstood indicated the passing of centuries. Then the scene clearedagain.
* * * * *
I saw that same shore line, but the people had vanished. There was onlythe thick, steamy mist, the tropic jungle crowding down to the shore,and the waves rolling in monotonously from the waste of gray oceanbeyond the curtain of fog.
Suddenly, from out of the sea, appeared a series of human heads, andthen a band of men and women that waded ashore and seated themselvesupon the beach, gazing restlessly out across the sea.
This was not the same band I had seen at first. These were a slimmerrace, and whereas the first band had been exceedingly swarthy, thesewere very fair.
They did not stay long on shore, for they were restless and ill at ease.It seemed to me they came there only from force of habit, as though theyobeyed some inner urge they did not understand. In a few seconds theyrose and ran into the water, plunged into it as though they welcomed itsembrace, and disappeared. Then again the vision was swallowed up by theswirling mists of time.
* * * * *
When the scene cleared again, it showed the bottom of the sea. A groupof perhaps a hundred pale creatures moved along the dim floor of theocean. Ahead I could see the dim outlines of one of their strangecities. The band approached, seemed to talk with those there, and movedon.
I saw them capture and kill fish for food, saw them carve the thick,spongy hearts from certain giant growths and eat them. I saw a pair ofkiller sharks swoop down on the band, and the quick, deadly accuracywith which both men and woman met the attack. One man, older than therest, was injured before the sharks were vanquished, and when theirefforts to staunch his wounds proved unavailing, they left him there andmoved on. And as they left I saw a dim, crawling shape m
ove closer,throw out a long, whiplike tentacle, and wrap the body in a hungryembrace.
They came to and passed other communities of beings like themselves, anda city of their own, in much the way that Mercer had visualized it.
Fading, the scene changed to the interior of the coral house again. Theold man finished his story, and moved off into a cubicle in the rear ofthe place. Dimly, I could see there a low couch, piled high with softmarine growths. Then the scene shifted once more.
A man and a woman hurried up and down the narrow streets of the strangecity the girl had pictured when she showed us how she had met with theshark, and struck her head, so that for a long period she lostconsciousness and was washed ashore.
* * * * *
Others, after a time, joined them in their search, which spread out tothe floor of the ocean, away from the dwellings. One party came to thegaunt skeleton of the ancient wreck, and found the scattered,fresh-picked bones of the shark the girl had killed. The man and thewoman came up, and I looked closely into their faces. The woman'sfeatures were torn with grief; the man's lips were set tight withsuffering. Here, it was easy to guess, were the mother and the father ofthe girl.
A milling mass of white forms shot through the water in every direction,searching. It seemed that they were about to give up the search whensuddenly, from out of the watery gloom, there shot a slim whitefigure--the girl!
Straight to the mother and father she came, gripping the shoulder ofeach with frantic joy. They returned the caress, the crowd gatheredaround them, listening to her story as they moved slowly, happily,towards the distant city.
Instead of a picture, I was conscious then of a sound, like a singlepleading word repeated softly, as though someone said "Please! Please!Please!" over and over again. The sound was not at all like the Englishword. It was a soft, musical beat, like the distant stroke of a mellowgong, but it had all the pleading quality of the word it seemed to bringto mind.
I looked down into the pool. The girl had mounted the ladder until herface was just below the surface of the water. Her eyes met mine and Iknew that I had not misunderstood.
I threw off the instrument on my head, and dropped down beside her. Withboth hands I grasped her shoulders, and, smiling, I nodded my headvigorously.
She understood, I know she did. I read it in her face. When I climbedthe ladder again, she looked after me, smiling confidently.
Although I had not spoken to her, she had read and accepted thepromise.
* * * * *
Mercer stared at me silently, grimly, as I told him what I wished.Whatever eloquence I may have, I used on him, and I saw his cold,scientific mind waver before the warmth of my appeal.
"We have no right to keep her from her people," I concluded. "You sawher mother and father, saw their suffering, and the joy her return wouldbring. You will, Mercer--you will return her to the sea?"
For a long time, Mercer did not reply. Then he lifted his dark eyes tomine, and smiled, rather wearily.
"It is the only thing we can do, Taylor," he said quietly. "She is not ascientific specimen; she is, in her way, as human as you or I. Shewould probably die, away from her own kind, living under conditionsforeign to her. And you promised her, Taylor, whether you spoke yourpromise or not." His smile deepened a bit. "We cannot let her receivetoo bad an opinion of her cousins who live above the surface of thesea!"
* * * * *
And so, just as the dawn was breaking, we took her to the shore. Icarried her, unresisting, trustful, in my arms, while Mercer bore a hugebasin of water, in which her head was submerged, so that she might notsuffer.
Still in our bathing suits we waded out into the ocean, until the wavessplashed against our faces. Then I lowered her into the sea. Crouchingthere, so that the water was just above the tawny glory of her hair, shegazed up at us. Two slim white hands reached towards us, and with oneaccord, Mercer and I bent towards her. She gripped both our shoulderswith a gentle pressure, smiling at us.
Then she did a strange thing. She pointed, under the water, out towardsthe depths and with a broad, sweeping motion of her arm, indicated theshore, as though to say that she intended to return. With a last swift,smiling glance up into my face, she turned. There was a flash of whitethrough the water. She was gone....
Silently, through the silence and beauty of the dawn, we made our wayback to the house.
* * * * *
As we passed through the laboratory, Mercer glanced out at the emptypool.
"Man came up from the sea," he said slowly, "and some men went back toit. They were forced back to the teeming source from whence they came,for lack of food. You saw that, Taylor--saw her forebears becomeamphibians, like the now extinct Dipneusta and Ganoideii, or the stillexisting Neoceratodus, Polypterus and Amia. Then their lungs became, ineffect, gills, and they lost their power of breathing atmospheric air,and could use only air dissolved in water.
"A whole people there beneath the waves that land-man never dreamedof--except, perhaps, the sailors of olden days, with their tales ofmermaids, which we are accustomed to laugh at in our wisdom!"
"But why were no bodies ever washed ashore?" I asked. "I would think--"
"You saw why," interrupted Mercer grimly. "The ocean teems with hungrylife. Death is the signal for a feast. It was little more than a miraclethat her body came ashore, a miracle due perhaps to the storm which sentthe hungry monsters to the greater depths. And even had a body comeashore it would have been buried as that of some unknown, unfortunatehuman. The differences between these people and ourselves would not benoticeable to a casual observer.
"No, Taylor, we have been party to what was close to a miracle. And weare the only witnesses to it, you and Carson and myself. And"--he sigheddeeply--"it is over."
I did not reply. I was thinking of the girl's odd gesture, at parting,and I wondered if it were indeed a finished chapter.