The Collected Stories

by Earl

  The two meteorologists were a trifle dazed. Suddenly Milo asked a question that had been bothering him: “Does Talscon have the means of lowering this city to Earth and carrying out his plans of conquest, if it so came about?”

  “That great secret, because of its importance, has been recorded only in one place: in an indestructible belt worn by each kahn all through his life. I have been privileged to see it, but of course not the secret of its hidden pouch, which gives directions for finding and manipulating the secret controls, which can raise and lower our city. The belt passes from kahn to kahn. They are sworn never to give out the secret unless a sufficiently great emergency results. In twelve thousand years, such an occasion has never arisen. But if Talscon succeeds to the throne——”

  Valdasc broke off, sighing. “You see, my friends from the. surface world, what problems weigh my mind. The crisis may not come for some time, perhaps not for years, till the kahn dies and Talscon and I match wits for succession to the throne. I——”

  At that moment there was a hurried knock on the door. A wild-looking face looked in, caught sight of Valdasc, and hissed, “The kahn is—dead!”

  Valdasc turned white beneath his bronze skin and swayed a little on his feet. He looked at each of the others as though wondering if they had heard the same thing. Then he turned, ran for the door, and was gone.

  VII.

  THE NEXT NIGHT Vikia, the city of the sky, was humming with excitement. There was something of the feeling, to Dumont and Milo, of a presidential election night in their world. For the choice of the people of Vikia was to determine who should be the next kahn. It was all conducted, however, without the general confusion of a similar Earthly occasion. There were no parades or demonstrations, no stump speeches, no meaningless babble. Vikia set about quietly and staidly to elect its next judge ruler, who would reign for the rest of his life. The celebrations and ceremonies would come later, after the important work was done. Talscon and Valdasc had long been the accepted successors. It remained only to choose between them.

  But in that simple choice, strangely enough, rested the fate of Earth. The people of Vikia realized it, yet to them it did not make much difference. In the past decade or so, with the rapid rise of Earth science, it was realized quite generally that Vikia would have to tear away the cloak of isolation. It was just a question as to how to go about it. And therein lay the choice between Talscon and Valdasc.

  Besides Valdasc and Daveena, only Dumont and Milo knew of the critical situation. Before the evening’s activities started, they spent an hour together on a high, hanging balcony. While Dumont and Valdasc discussed the situation gravely, Milo and Daveena looked together over the glory of the city. The bright moonlight sparkled from a hundred thousand facets and suffused the scene with a glow of prismatic color.

  “I wish I lived here,” said Milo suddenly, sighing. He looked at Daveena. “May I ask a question?” he went on. “Does Talscon mean anything to you—as a suitor?” Milo felt he had to know about that, since he had noticed Talscon’s attention to her and a certain air of intimacy.

  Daveena’s face held a queer look. “No,” she breathed. “And yes! I do not care for him, but he does for me and wishes to marry me. I can only say one thing more. If Talscon is elected kahn to-night, I will have to marry him, for my father’s sake. For then, through me, he will perhaps be able to guide Talscon away from his most disastrous ventures.”

  Milo’s thoughts began to whirl. It all depended on the election, then! He could do nothing about it but wait. This personal matter of his had passed out of his hands as much as the meaning of their presence here in Vikia. Milo was quite bewildered at the way fate had twined the strings of their lives.

  Presently their party went below, to a stately room of the palace, which was a broadcasting studio. Valdasc and Talscon were to be permitted each one hour to make a “campaign” speech, this night of the election, in accordance with custom.

  Talscon, suave and confident as usual, smiled with seeming friendliness toward Valdasc as he rose. He gave a courtly nod to the two meteorologists. Milo wondered that the man had no animosity for the blow he had given him the night before. Then Talscon turned before the vision-thought projector and began his “speech” in the intricate telepathy language of the sky people. Dumont and Milo sat there on pins and needles, wondering what strange thing was shaping itself here. All they could do was watch his expressions, which ranged from lofty exaltation to faint glimmerings of craftiness.

  Valdasc seemed to get nervous after a while. Evidently, Milo surmised Talscon was making a very good speech with which to influence the voters toward himself.

  SUDDENLY Talscon’s voice burst out, “And now I will speak as well as telepathize, for the benefit of the two surface men who are here with me. I repeat that Vikia is all-powerful, as proved by the effectiveness of our paralyzing weapon. It is apparent also that the surface people do not know how to run their world. For several centuries these descendants of the Atlanteans, in central and southern Europe, and in America, have failed to bring any reasonable orders out of social chaos. They periodically drown their culture in their own blood. On the other hand, the Viking descendants of Scandinavia have proven their pacifism.

  “It is our duty to our Earthly brethren, now that we have ended their petty but vicious little warfare, to guide them in the paths of future glory—the glory that was once Vikia’s! We must go to Earth and become its rulers, for that is our rightful heritage, as well as our duty. That the surface people will welcome us has been exemplified by the two members of that race now present. For it was their request, to our late kahn, to stop the war which tore their hearts while it was tearing their world below.

  “If I am elected, which rests in your hands, people of Vikia, I promise to make immediate plans to descend to the surface world and undertake its reform!” Talscon sat down, eyes gleaming.

  “Conquest, not reform, is the word he meant,” whispered Valdasc. “He made a stirring speech. He was clever enough to play on their emotions with talk of Vikia’s past glory. I think the man is a little mad now with the thought of power. Inkar protect us if he is the people’s choice.” He rose. “I go now.”

  Daveena pressed her father’s hand, encouragement in her eyes. Dumont murmured heartfelt blessings. Milo said, “Good luck!”

  For almost an hour only Valdasc’s mobile, sensitive face was an indication that he was pouring out his soul into the ether. The two surface visitors never knew what he said, for none of it was spoken. Valdasc finished and then came a surprise. One of the broadcasting officials handed Valdasc a document. He looked it over. It turned out to be a telepathic petition, hastily recorded, from hundreds of sky people who wanted the two men from Earth to give their view of the matter. Valdasc told them about it with a hopeful smile.

  Dumont did not seem to favor the idea and finally his shyness overcame him entirely. He declined to speak. But Milo strode up to the microphone with his jaw Set grimly. “People of Vikia,” he began, and thrilled to the thought that every soul in the city was listening. “You live in an incomparably beautiful city. And your manner of living is something approaching our Earthly ideal of life after death. Do not sacrifice this all of a sudden. If you plunge yourselves into the far different and actually primitive mode of life of the surface, either as conquerors or missionaries of a new life, you may destroy this ideal you have set up. Rather leave it as an example for Earth to follow.

  “Let Earth come to Vikia, as a pilgrim to a shrine. Earth people learn better by example than by force, as its history shows. The professor and I are only the first of future visitors from below. Others will come and be as astounded and pleased as we are at what we have discovered. I would like nothing better than to live here all the rest of my life. You will be a shining light to Earthly civilization. And that is what Earth needs, a light to guide its way. This is the better course of establishing relations with the surface world. Follow your prince—Valdasc Olo-Kwar!”

 
Valdasc thanked Milo profusely, as he returned from the microphone, but Milo’s best reward was one of Daveena’s sweetest smiles. Also the dark look he got from Talscon somehow made him feel gratified. If he had thrown a wrench into his plans, he had done well. Apparently he had.

  THE “ELECTION” returns, carried by a super-rapid telepathic pick-up, were completely tabulated two hours later and showed a distinct victory for Valdasc Olo-Kwar. The prince of the sky people, now their elected king, smiled in a quiet, relieved way and then stepped to the microphone to give a short speech of gratitude for his people’s faith and trust in him.

  Talscon Kaj-Zan, the losing man, arose with studied indifference from his seat across the room. His face showed he had been under a terrific strain. Now he looked haggard. His face darkened as he looked across at Milo. He seemed about to approach him. Instead he left the room, darting him a venomous glance.

  “That fellow’s up to no good,” said Dumont ominously. “He’s got it in for you, Milo.” Milo shrugged but felt vaguely uneasy.

  When the few ceremonies of that night were over, Valdasc asked the two meteorologists to accompany him, if they wished, to view the dead kahn’s body. It was a time-honored custom for the newly elected kahn to pay homage to the body of the deceased ruler whom he was replacing. The room containing the body was one of the most magnificent the two scientists had yet seen. It had walls of golden metal and a lofty ceiling hung with beautiful flowing draperies of somber color. Soft, dirgelike music filled the air. Several dozen people were slowly filing past the silken-covered dais on which the body rested. At sight of their prince, however, the line broke, leaving a clear path for him.

  Valdasc and Daveena bowed their heads before the dead king and murmured some ancient words appropriate to the occasion. Milo and Dumont, watched, feeling something of the sadness these people felt for a loved and honored ruler. Suddenly they saw Valdasc start. Then he straightened up and ordered every one out of the room, except his party and the official guardian of the body. When the people had filed out, mystified, Valdasc stepped on the dais and kneeled beside the body. He bent his face over and seemed to examine something closely. Then his fingers moved part of the rich clothing from the body’s waist.

  When Valdasc turned around, his face was a mask of fury. “The king was murdered!” he hissed. “There is a hypodermic mark in his neck! Talscon did this, thinking his plans were complete to become kahn. He was so sure he even took the kingly belt and replaced it with a false one.” His face turned suddenly gray. “That means he, and he alone now, has the knowledge and means of controlling the lowering machine for the city, for it was contained in that belt!”

  Valdasc was about to go on, but at that very moment they felt a distinct motion of the floor under their feet. It was a falling-away motion that each of them recognized immediately as a rapid drop downward. The city was dropping toward Earth!

  “Inkar save us!” cried Valdasc. “The madman is sending us all to our doom!”

  “Quick, where is he?” asked Milo, grasping the prince by the arm. “He must be stopped.”

  “No one knows where he is!” wailed the sky man, wringing his hands. “That was the secret of the belt. The machine is probably in some secret room of the palace, but it may take hours to locate him. And by then——”

  He broke off and shuddered, while they could all feel their underfooting falling swiftly away.

  “Order the palace searched then!” shouted Milo, shaking the dazed sky man roughly. “No time must be lost.”

  VALDASC came out of a daze of fear and unclipped a tiny instrument from his belt. Into this he hurled telepathic instructions to the attendants of the palace. When he looked around for Milo again, he was gone. Somehow, Valdasc had wanted the young man near him in this hour of peril. Dumont, when questioned, could give no information except that Milo had dashed out the door and disappeared.

  Milo had a hunch. It occurred to him that the logical place for a control as important as the one that lowered the city on its great support.of metal must be in the same housing that contained the great paralyzing ray and the magnetic forces that propelled the city forward over the face of Earth. Perhaps that was where Talscon, following instructions in the belt, was diverting the titanic forces of the floating city and allowing it to plunge Earthward.

  Milo arrived at the entrance to the short shaft that led to the underside gondola of the city, in the courtyard of the palace. He found his way barred by the metal door, securely locked. He tossed his body futilely against it several times and then gave up. He was about to rush back to the palace to find some one with keys to open the door, when he remembered something. That time Talscon had taken them to the housing he had mentioned that there was an emergency trapdoor in the metal plate that formed the ground of the city. This opening was directly over the gondola housing.

  Milo bent his eyes to the metal at his feet and looked sharply around. Back of him he heard panic-stricken cries from the palace, as more and more of the people began to realize that their city was plunging toward destruction. At last he saw it, a round ring set flush with the surface. It had a ring handle. He grasped this and heaved with all his might. It took several more desperate heaves before the trapdoor came up with a clang. Milo looked down at the housing and saw illimitable space beyond it.

  He kneeled down and grew dizzy looking at the awesome depths below. A strong draft came up through the orifice, attesting to the speed with which the city was dropping. But this was no time to hesitate. Milo swung himself over the edge of the aperture and let go, with a prayer. He landed ten feet below and rolled to the edge of the flat roof before he could stop himself. His eyes looked out into the tremendous vat of the lower atmosphere. He got to his hands and knees and jerked at the trapdoor of the gondola. It came up easier than the other had.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Milo dropped himself through and into the interior of the gondola housing. He landed on the floor with stinging feet and instinctively flung up an arm. A thick bar of metal paralyzed it, wielded in Talscon’s hands. But he had saved his head.

  Milo dodged the next swing of the metal bar, shuddering at the demoniac rage in Talscon’s face, and dived for his legs. He threw the sky man down, pounced on him and began punching with his one good arm. He pounded at Talscon’s face till the insanity in it was replaced by fear and pain. Then he yanked him to his feet, gave him a punch or two in the ribs to show him who was master, and roared for him to turn off the apparatus that was responsible for the city’s downward plunge.

  Talscon, like a whipped dog, dragged himself to one corner of the gondola and manipulated several levers. With a shudder that was felt through every atom of the entire city above, the metal city support cast off the fatal grip of gravity, in several stages. A few minutes later the city once more floated defiantly. Milo did not loose his grip on the traitor’s arm till he was satisfied that all was right. Then he looked him over with scorn.

  “Talscon,” he growled, “I ought to strangle you for trying to destroy this great and glorious city on your own mad whim at being thwarted. In fact, I think I’ll beat you up some more, just for the good of my soul.”

  The bronzed sky man, with blood smeared over his battered face, held up a hand. He smiled strangely. “There is no need, man from the lower world. I was not trying to destroy Vikia; I meant to land the city on the surface and then destroy the levitating controls so that my people would have to do what I wanted—conquer the surface world. But you prevented me. You have won. And I have lost.”

  STILL with his strange smile, the sky man stepped to an open window at his back. He saluted Milo and calmly plunged himself head-first out of the opening. Milo leaned out and saw the body of Talscon Kaj-Zan, the first traitor Vikia had known in twelve thousand years, vanish in the mistiness below.

  Later, when Milo told his story to an awed group of the sky people, a rousing cheer went up for him. Valdasc said, “You will be made a prince of Vikia for this!”

  But
Milo sought for his reward in the heaven-blue eyes of Daveena—and found it there.

  “I’m afraid,” he whispered to Dumont, “that you’re going down to the surface alone.”

  Dumont grinned. “You’re telling me?” he said, rather unnecessarily.

  BLUE BEAM OF PESTILENCE

  The author, Eando Binder, gives us a story from the astronomical viewpoint, carrying his characters to the most interesting cosmos. We know that this story will be very warmly received by our readers.

  CHAPTER I

  WAR DECLARED!

  IT was in the Sikka 444[1] that the inhabitants of the various worlds of the solar system suddenly became aware of the Blue Beam from outer space which threatened to depopulate that thriving community of worlds. Like a sword from Heaven an arrowing beam of visible blue light shot from the void and lighted upon Pluto, the outermost of the planets. The Plutonians, small, sensitive-eyed rational creatures that looked like Earthly spiders, were greatly annoyed by that bright light which shone in their delicate eyes unremittingly, every hour of the day. They sent in a complaint to the Solar Council on Earth to ask that the matter be investigated, as it was seriously disturbing their industry and ability.

  Two Earth-days later the alarming news came in from distant Pluto that the Blue Beam was not merely bothersome but insidiously dangerous, for already the inhabitants were beginning to die off, gripped in the throes of a mysterious malady that came with the Blue Beam. Then the Solar Council, which had been ponderously deliberating its first move, sprang into action under the impetus of that new fatal development.

  From Earth and from all the other worlds, the mystifying light from the void could be seen as a solid-looking blue shaft, extending from Pluto (which was itself invisible to the eye of anyone on the minor planets) out into space till it was lost for distance in the region of alpha-Centauri. That it was not ordinary light was quickly apparent, for then it would have been invisible to any except the Plutonians. It must be some new and astounding type of radiation that could so affect the ether as to make it a reflecting medium as well as a carrier.