Adrift in the Unknown; or, Queer Adventures in a Queer Realm
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*CHAPTER IX.*
*LEARNING THE WORD-BOX.*
It was not the violet fire that did the work for the professor and me.Rather it was some chemical, known to the Mercurials, and whichmanifested its presence by an overpowering odor.
Long after we had regained consciousness, the drug-like smell clung toour clothes and sapped our strength. Shackles of iron could not havebeen more effective in making us prisoners.
Cords were made fast to our feet, and we were dragged by a small army ofMercurials down the principal street of their city and out into one ofthe white, irrigated fields.
Had a dwelling been found large enough, I presume we should have beencomfortably housed, but we were of such stupendous proportions thatthere were no walls capable of containing us.
When we reached the field, a ring a foot high was reared about us. Asthe odor lessened and my strength increased I tried to roll over thislow barrier, but received such a shock that I was only too glad to rollback to the professor's side again.
"It is of no use, Mr. Munn," said the professor, who had been watchingmy attempt. "These Mercurials are possessed of ways and means beyondour earthly powers to combat. We must accept the situation with all thephilosophy we can muster."
This great man, who could remain unshaken under any fate that befellhim, was a constant source of strength and inspiration to me. While welay forsaken by our captors and couched on the strange white herbage ofthat underground field, our discourse drifted along many channels.
I remember that I asked him a question concerning a matter that had longbeen weighing upon my mind.
"How is it, professor," said I, "that your anti-gravity compound remainsin a liquid state in an open cask? I should think its inherent energywould cause it to fly upward _en masse_."
"I can demonstrate that by means of an algebraic formula," said he."Are you acquainted with algebra?"
"No," I answered humbly.
"Then," he went on disappointedly, "I fear you will have to remain inignorance. You must rest content with the evidence of your senses,since an explanation in terms you can understand is impossible."
And thus the matter rested. When we were so far recovered as to be ableto rise, we made an attempt to step over the ring that hemmed us in, butwere shocked by the same unseen power I had already encountered, anddriven back.
"See with what weapons nature has provided these people!" murmured theprofessor. "Throughout the universe everywhere you will find, Mr. Munn,that Nature takes care of her own. Ah, here comes Captain Goldman!Retainers follow, and they are bringing--now, what are they bringing?Why, as I live, they have manufactured a couple of large word-boxes.Evidently we are to be taught the use of them."
The professor was right. Ever since our disastrous attempt to regainthe surface we had been tabooed by the inhabitants of the country.
"Captain Goldman," as my companion referred to the little man who hadused his mysterious baton with such telling effect, was crossing thefields toward us, followed by six of his countrymen bearing the talkingmachines. As a precautionary measure, the captain carried his weapon.
Arriving at the ring, Captain Goldman reversed the baton and with theblack tip of it cut an imaginary doorway for himself in the air. He thenstepped through and joined us, without shock or resistance.
Thus, by means to us inexplicable, he broke the power of the circle at agiven point. The others followed him through the entrance he hadcleared.
Wielding the baton with two of his hands, Captain Goldman beganmanipulating his word-box with the other two. He was not addressing us,however, but those who had come with him.
Three of his followers advanced to me with one of the machines, whilethe remaining three conveyed a machine to the professor. At once ourinstruction in the art of mechanical speech began.
It is not my intention to burden the readers with the details of ourlessons, although a few remarks under this head may not be out of place.As to the word-box itself, it had seven keys. This made it somewhatdifficult for a five-fingered creature to operate with any great degreeof fluency, although the professor did get so he could peg out his ideasat a remarkable rate.
There are but six syllables in the Mercurial language, each syllablebeing represented by a corresponding key. The way these syllables werefingered gave the words. As they could be combined and repeated andcombined again, the vocabulary of the boxes was practically unlimited.The syllable notes were of resonant quality and of such divergent timberas to be quickly and easily recognized. The syllable for Key 1 wassynonymous with our personal pronoun "I," and was the most assertive anddetermined note in the whole gamut of the box.
The seventh key emitted a sound so utterly unlike the other sounds as tobe in a class by itself. It was used for spacing between words, forexclamatory purposes and for the audible expression of laughter andgrief.
It was likewise the expletive or swear-key; for these small egotists hadall the passions of other mortals, and Key 7 acted as a sort of safetyvalve. The manner in which the key was used gave it its versatility.
Day by day our lessons proceeded, the professor learning with a rapiditythat was marvelous. He was well along in the polysyllables while I wasstruggling with the basic tones and acquiring some facility in spacingand in the expression of the feelings.
Our ears kept pace with our fingers, and in a fortnight the professorwas so eloquent with his word-box that he could now and then play off ametaphor, or some other frill, to the great delight of himself and hisauditors.
Next to a wonderful jimmy invented by a cracksman named "Cricket"Doniphan, whom I knew well, and who, at that period, was doing time inStillwater, I take off my hat to that Mercurial word-box as the mostmarvelous contrivance ever evolved by a thinking mind. I have a verygood memory, and when sufficiently proficient with the keys I practicedby repeating passages from "Forty Ways of Cracking Safes," which, asdistinguished from "The Sandbagger's Manual," I considered my _chefd'oeuvre_. I could not discover that my terse English, faulty enoughthough it was, lost anything in force from translation into theMercurial tongue. (The word "tongue" is used with reservations, for, ofcourse, tongue that language was not.)
Difficulty was experienced in getting a suitable Mercurial equivalentfor the good English word "cracksman." Finally, however, I hit uponthree quick touches of the swear-key, which made the word intelligiblein my own ears if not to any one's else.
Soon I began to observe a little throng gathering across my side of theprison ring, listening intently as I practiced. From day to day thethrong increased.
Over on the other side of the ring Professor Quinn was absorbed incutting all manner of scientific capers with his word-box. "TheMutability of Newtonian Law" formed his staple theme, and he was able toput it through the keys with amazing variations.
But no crowd gathered to listen to the professor. The Mercurials wereall on my side of the compound. Thus it was clear to me that my brandof science was more attractive to the little people than theprofessor's. While "The Mutability of Newtonian Law" languished for anaudience, "The Sandbagger's Manual" was fast acquiring one that taxedthe capacity of the word-box.
The professor, for a long time, had been so wrapped up in his attempt tomaster the Mercurial language that he had paid little heed to me and myefforts. The attention my work was securing, however, finally causedhim to sit up and take notice. Halting his weighty remarks, he laidaside his talk machine, came over to my side of the circle, and stoodbehind me, listening. The first I knew of his presence was the reachingof two angry hands over my head and the snatching away of the instrumenton which I was, at that moment, reciting the ten rules for a cracksman'ssuccess.
My audience was as greatly put out as I was myself. While I was leapingto my feet and whirling around, my listeners were clamoring on theirword-boxes for me to proceed.
Professor Quinn, white-faced and in a greater temper than I had everbefore seen him, held m
y talking apparatus over his head and seemed of amind to clash it down on the earth at his feet.
"I say, professor," I called restrainingly, "don't do anything rash."
"Mr. Munn," he gasped, his voice thick with suppressed emotion, "is myconfidence in you to be destroyed utterly? I singled you out as one ofthe worthiest of all those brought from Terra, and yet I find you busilyinculcating false ideas of personal property into the keen minds ofthese Mercurials! For shame, sir! Would you demoralize this planet?Would you turn these law-abiding people into thieves?"
"Professor," I answered, "your ideas and mine do not harmonize on thismatter of property rights."
"While I admit, Mr. Munn," he answered, "that conditions on our ownplanet in a measure condoned your actions, yet I maintain that you haveno right to air your ideas in Njambai. Here the conditions are of analtogether different sort. So far as I have been able to learn, this orbhas not fallen under the noxious spell of the monopolists. You have noexcuse for instructing the Mercurials in the alpha and omega of yourcontemptible profession."
"Contemptible?" I repeated. "That is a hard term, professor. Besides,they seem to be fond of the instruction. Everybody listens to me, whileyou haven't had so much as a corporal's guard to enjoy that astronomicalstuff you have been playing off on your concertina."
"Your line, perhaps, is more attractive than mine," and the shadow of asmile curled about his thin lips, "for the notion of getting somethingfor nothing has a direct appeal to every thinking being. On the otherhand, my thesis on 'The Mutability of Newtonian Law' requires profoundthought before it can be assimilated. Yet, be that as it may, I shallnot allow you to degrade these people with the unworthy ideas that havebeen coming from your word-box. I can destroy this machine, sir, and Ishall do so unless you promise never again to let an ignoble thoughtcome out of it. What do you say?"
"Your mere command is enough, professor," I replied. "It is notnecessary to couple it with a threat."
His face softened, and he at once returned to me my talk-producer.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Munn," said he. "I have confidence in yourword, and know that I can trust you."
Thereupon he went back to his own side of the ring, and I applied myselfassiduously to undoing any evil my ill-considered practicing may havewrought. I told the Mercurials that my utterances had been in thenature of a fairy story, and I gave the lie to my convictions bydeclaring that the reasoning, as in all fairy tales, was unsound.
From that hour my audiences vanished. The professor, although his talkwas profound and somewhat wearying, seemed to the Mercurials as moreworth while, and they flocked to hear him. We began acquiring aknowledge of the country, and of its people and institutions, with ourvery first lesson. In two weeks we had gathered most of the informationthat follows:
Their planet they called Njambai; their country was Baigol. Baigol wasone of four kingdoms comprising the under-world of Njambai. The otherthree kingdoms were Baijinkz, Baigossh, and Baigadd--all derived fromthe root word "bai," signifying planet.
There were only two places on Njambai where water was able to collectand defy the absorbing power of the sun. These places were at the twoends of the planet's axis, corresponding to the polar regions of Earth.Here there were seas feeding rivers that ran through the under-world andirrigated the fields.
The kingdoms of Baijinkz and Baigossh lay on the shores of these seas,the former at the north and the latter at the south. They were the onlykingdoms on the outer shell of Njambai, and levied tribute from theinterior kingdoms of Baigol and Baigadd for water rights.
The distribution of light and heat throughout the nether kingdoms was bya system of gigantic reflectors, located at either end of a radius drawnthrough the equator. There was one stupendous reflector on either sideof the planet, measuring no less than twenty _spatli_ across--a _spatl_being the equivalent of a geographical mile.
These reflectors, we were told, followed the sun as it moved through theheavens, and reflected heat and light to countless other reflectorsingeniously placed to acquire and radiate the solar energy.
The heat thus secured was further intensified by the planet's shell,which, forming the vault of the nether kingdoms, constantly diffusedwarmth.
The king was Golbai, the nine hundred and twenty-fifth of his line. Thename of the pompous gentleman whom the professor had christened "CaptainGoldman" was Ocou.
Names of people, places, and things, as here given, are simply a rudeequivalent as nearly as can be rendered into English.
From my wording the astute reader will probably discover more than thesix basic syllables of the Baigol language. The flexibility of theword-box will account for this, and the inconsistency is only seemingand not real.
Baigol had one half the inner sphere, and Baigadd the other half. Thesetwo kingdoms were not on the best of terms, owing to a wretched piece ofbusiness carried out by Gaddbai, king of the other country, which willbe adverted to later.
The four kingdoms were connected by a railway, if such the mode oftransportation could be called. The roadbed was a "V"-shaped groove,and the wheels of the cars were solid spheres with axles pierced throughtheir diameter. On these axles the carriages were supported.
For a people so wonderfully progressive the Baigols were strangelybackward in their motive power, their trains being dragged byhand--relays of the small creatures taking them in charge.
Owing to the diminished force of gravity, large weights were easilyhandled, and a fair rate of speed was developed by the train haulers.But it was a very primitive method of transportation.
The trunk line connecting the nether kingdoms was known as the Baigaddand Baigol Interplanetary System. When two weeks of our enforced stayin Baigol had passed, a startling rumor was wafted from the word-boxesof the other kingdom to the effect that the management of the line hadsecured a wonderful new traction power of tremendous speed and unlimitedendurance.
The kingdom of Baigol was agog with excitement, for the president,vice-president, and board of directors of the Interplanetary were totake a trial spin over the road in a special equipped with their newmotive power.
We had not yet been allowed to leave the mysterious circle whichimprisoned us, but we could stand erect, and so overtop the fields andhouses that we were able to see the railway station.
Billiard balls came rolling in from every direction, clustering aboutthe right of way and clambering to roof tops and other elevations thatwould afford an unobstructed view of the centre of excitement.
At last, far off, the professor and I heard a thunderous shout:
"Toot, t-o-o-t! Ting-a-ling-a-ling!"
No word-box could have been the source of that echoing cry. Theprofessor gave a gasp and clutched my arm convulsively.
"Do you recognize that voice?" he asked hoarsely. "Merciful powers, Mr.Munn, how could such a thing happen? Look! Look!"
Over the fields beyond the city, leaping along at fifty-foot bounds anddragging behind him a train of queer-looking cars crowded with officialsof the system, came no less a person than Emmet Gilhooly!
The professor threw himself at the barrier that hedged us round. Hecould not pass, although he struggled frantically.
"Take it coolly, professor," I urged, grasping and holding him upright.
"But this is outrageous, Mr. Munn!" he cried. "Poor Gilhooly! Is _he_the new traction power the other kingdom has been talking about? Howdoes he happen to be here? And why are they treating him like that?This must be stopped! Where's my word-box?"
His eyes swept the ground. Glimpsing his talking machine he dived forit and began working the keys like mad.
No one paid any attention to the furious language that went up under hisfrenzied fingers, however. Leviathan in harness absorbed the entireattention of all the Baigols, and with another "Toot, toot!Ting-a-ling-a-ling!" the railway magnate galloped out of sight.
It was a sad spectacle indeed. I was almost as completely unmanned byit as was Professor Quinn.
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