The Golden Age of Science Fiction Novels Vol 05

by Anthology

  "Then shall live in Orlog all who wish to stay, and we shall watch their rule, but never shall we let them pass beyond their borders. For if they do, then shall we kill them.

  "All this I can do, my husband, if you but will let me try. For me they will believe, a woman, Oroid all of blood--for they know women do not lie." She stopped and the fire in her eyes changed to a look of gentle pleading. "If you will but let me try," she finished. "My husband--please."

  The Chemist glanced at his friends who sat astonished by this flow of eager, impassioned words. Then he turned again to Lylda's intent, pleading face, regarding her tenderly. "You are very fine, little mother of my son," he said gently, lapsing for a moment into her own style of speech. "It could do no harm," he added thoughtfully "and perhaps----"

  "Let her try it," said the Doctor. "No harm could come to her."

  "No harm to me could come," said Lylda quickly. "And I shall make them believe. I can, because I am a woman, and they will know I tell the truth. Ah, you will let me try, my husband--please?"

  The Chemist appealed to the others. "They will believe her, many of them," he said. "They will leave Orlog as she directs. But those in other cities will still hold to Targo, they will simply remain silent for a time. What their feelings will be or are we cannot tell. Some will leave and go to Orlog of course, for Lylda will offer freedom of their leader and to secure that they will seem to agree to anything.

  "But after all, they are nothing but children at heart, most of them. To-day, they might believe in Lylda; to-morrow Targo could win them again."

  "He won't get a chance," put in the Very Young Man quickly. "If she says we kill anybody who talks for Targo outside of Orlog, that goes. It's the only way, isn't it?"

  "And she might really convince them--or most of them," added the Doctor.

  "You will let me try?" asked Lylda softly. The Chemist nodded.

  Lylda sprang to her feet. Her frail little body was trembling with emotion; on her face was a look almost of exaltation.

  "You will let me try," she cried. "Then I shall make them believe. Here, now, this very hour, I shall make them know the truth. And they, my own people, shall I save from sorrow, misery and death."

  She turned to the Chemist and spoke rapidly.

  "My husband, will you send Oteo now, up into the city. Him will you tell to have others spread the news. All who desire an end to Targo's rule, shall come here at once. And all too, who in him believe, and who for him want freedom, they shall come too. Let Oteo tell them magic shall be performed and Lylda will speak with them.

  "Make haste, my husband, for now I go to change my dress. Not as the Master's woman will I speak, but as Lylda--Oroid woman--woman of the people." And with a flashing glance, she turned and swiftly left the balcony.

  CHAPTER XXIV

  LYLDA ACTS

  "She'll do it," the Very Young Man murmured, staring at the doorway through which Lylda had disappeared. "She can do anything."

  The Chemist rose to his feet. "I'll send Oteo. Will you wait here gentlemen? And will you have some of the drugs ready for Lylda? You have them with you?" The men nodded.

  "How about Lylda carrying the drugs?" asked the Very Young Man. "And what about her clothes?"

  "I have already made a belt for Lylda and for myself--some time ago," the Chemist answered. "During the first year I was here I made several experiments with the drugs. I found that almost anything within the immediate--shall I say influence of the body, will contract with it. Almost any garment, even a loose robe will change size. You found that to be so to some extent. Those belts you wore down--"

  "That's true," agreed the Doctor, "there seems to be considerable latitude----"

  "I decided," the Chemist went on, "that immediately after your arrival we should all wear the drugs constantly. You can use the armpit pouches if you wish; Lylda and I will wear these belts I have made."

  Oteo, the Chemist's personal servant, a slim youth with a bright, intelligent face, listened carefully to his master's directions and then left the house hurriedly, running up the street towards the center of the city. Once or twice he stopped and spoke to passers-by for a moment, gathering a crowd around him each time.

  The Chemist rejoined his friends on the balcony. "There will be a thousand people here in half an hour," he said quietly. "I have sent a message to the men in charge of the government workshops; they will have their people cease work to come here."

  Lylda appeared in a few moments more. She was dressed as the Chemist had seen her first through the microscope--in a short, grey skirt reaching from waist to knees. Only now she wore also two circular metal discs strapped over her breasts. Her hair was unbound and fell in masses forward over her shoulders. Around her waist was a broad girdle of golden cloth with small pouches for holding the chemicals. She took her place among the men quietly.

  "See, I am ready," she said with a smile. "Oteo, you have sent him?" The Chemist nodded.

  Lylda turned to the Doctor. "You will tell me, what is to do with the drugs?"

  They explained in a few words. By now a considerable crowd had gathered before the house, and up the street many others were hurrying down. Directly across from the entrance to Lylda's garden, back of the bluff at the lake front, was a large open space with a fringe of trees at its back. In this open space the crowd was collecting.

  The Chemist rose after a moment and from the roof-top spoke a few words to the people in the street below. They answered him with shouts of applause mingled with a hum of murmured anger underneath. The Chemist went back to his friends, his face set and serious.

  As he dropped in his chair Lylda knelt on the floor before him, laying her arms on his knees. "I go to do for our people the best I can," she said softly, looking up into his face. "Now I go, but to you I will come back soon." The Chemist tenderly put his hand upon the glossy smoothness of her hair.

  "I go--now," she repeated, and reached for one of the vials under her arm. Holding it in her hand, she stared at it a moment, silently, in awe. Then she shuddered like a frightened child and buried her face in the Chemist's lap, huddling her little body up close against his legs as if for protection.

  The Chemist did not move nor speak, but sat quiet with his hand gently stroking her hair. In a moment she again raised her face to his. Her long lashes were wet with tears, but her lips were smiling.

  "I am ready--now," she said gently. She brushed her tears from her eyes and rose to her feet. Drawing herself to her full height, she tossed back her head and flung out her arms before her.

  "No one can know I am afraid--but you," she said. "And I--shall forget." She dropped her arms and stood passive.

  "I go now to take the drug--there in the little garden behind, where no one can notice. You will come down?"

  The Big Business Man cleared his throat. When he spoke his voice was tremulous with emotion.

  "How long will you be gone--Lylda?" he asked.

  The woman turned to him with a smile. "Soon will I return, so I believe," she answered. "I go to Orlog, to Raito, and to Tele. But never shall I wait, nor speak long, and fast will I walk.... Before the time of sleep has descended upon us, I shall be here."

  In the little garden behind the house, out of sight of the crowd on the other side, Lylda prepared to take the drug. She was standing there, with the four men, when Loto burst upon them, throwing himself into his mother's arms.

  "Oh, mamita, mamita," he cried, clinging to her. "There in the street outside, they say such terrible things----of you mamita. 'The master's woman' I heard one say, 'She has the evil magic.' And another spoke of Targo. And they say he must not die, or there will be death for those who kill him."

  Lylda held the boy close as he poured out his breathless frightened words.

  "No matter, little son," she said tenderly. "To mamita no harm can come--you shall see. Did my father teach you well to-day?"

  "But mamita, one man who saw me standing, called me an evil name and spoke of you, my mother Lyl
da. And a woman looked with a look I never saw before. I am afraid, mamita."

  With quivering lips that smiled, Lylda kissed the little boy tenderly and gently loosening his hold pushed him towards his father.

  "The Master's son, Loto, never can he be afraid," she said with gentle reproof. "That must you remember--always."

  The little group in the garden close up against the house stood silent as Lylda took a few grains of the drug. The noise and shouts of the crowd in front were now plainly audible. One voice was raised above the others, as though someone were making a speech.

  Loto stood beside his father, and the Chemist laid his arm across the boy's shoulder. As Lylda began visibly to increase in size, the boy uttered a startled cry. Meeting his mother's steady gaze he shut his lips tight, and stood rigid, watching her with wide, horrified eyes.

  Lylda had grown nearly twice her normal size before she spoke. Then, smiling down at the men, she said evenly, "From the roof, perhaps, you will watch."

  "You know what to do if you grow too large," the Doctor said huskily.

  "I know, my friend. I thank you all. And good-bye." She met the Chemist's glance an instant. Then abruptly she faced about and walking close to the house, stood at its further corner facing the lake.

  After a moment's hesitation the Chemist led his friends to the roof. As they appeared at the edge of the parapet a great shout rolled up from the crowd below. Nearly a thousand people had gathered. The street was crowded and in the open space beyond they stood in little groups. On a slight eminence near the lake bluff, a man stood haranguing those around him. He was a short, very thickset little man, with very long arms--a squat, apelike figure. He talked loudly and indignantly; around him perhaps a hundred people stood listening, applauding at intervals.

  When the Chemist appeared this man stopped with a final phrase of vituperation and a wave of his fist towards the house.

  The Chemist stood silent, looking out over the throng. "How large is she now?" he asked the Very Young Man softly. The Very Young Man ran across the roof to its farther corner and was back in an instant.

  "They'll see her soon--look there." His friends turned at his words. At the corner of the house they could just see the top of Lylda's head above the edge of the parapet. As they watched she grew still taller and in another moment her forehead appeared. She turned her head, and her great eyes smiled softly at them across the roof-top. In a few moments more (she had evidently stopped growing) with a farewell glance at her husband, she stepped around the corner of the house into full view of the crowd--a woman over sixty feet tall, standing quietly in the garden with one hand resting upon the roof of the house behind her.

  A cry of terror rose from the people as she appeared. Most of those in the street ran in fright back into the field behind. Then, seeing her standing motionless with a gentle smile on her face, they stopped, irresolute. A few held their ground, frankly curious and unafraid. Others stood sullen and defiant.

  When the people had quieted a little Lylda raised her arms in greeting and spoke, softly, yet with a voice that carried far away over the field. As she talked the people seemed to recover their composure rapidly. Her tremendous size no longer seemed to horrify them. Those who obviously at first were friendly appeared now quite at ease; the others, with their lessening terror, were visibly more hostile.

  Once Lylda mentioned the name of Targo. A scattered shout came up from the crowd; the apelike man shouted out something to those near him, and then, leaving his knoll disappeared.

  As Lylda continued, the hostile element in the crowd grew more insistent. They did not listen to her now but shouted back, in derision and defiance. Then suddenly a stone was thrown; it struck Lylda on the breast, hitting her metal breastplate with a thud and dropping at her feet.

  As though at a signal a hail of stones flew up from the crowd, most of them striking Lylda like tiny pebbles, a few of the larger ones bounding against the house, or landing on its roof.

  At this attack Lylda abruptly stopped speaking and took a step forward menacingly. The hail of stones continued. Then she turned towards the roof-top, where the men and the little boy stood behind the parapet, sheltering themselves from the flying stones.

  "Only one way there is," said Lylda sadly, in a soft whisper that they plainly heard above the noise of the crowd. "I am sorry, my husband--but I must."

  A stone struck her shoulder. She faced the crowd again; a gentle look of sorrow was in her eyes, but her mouth was stern. In the street below at the edge of the field the squat little man had reappeared. It was from here that most of the stones seemed to come.

  "That man there--by the road----" The Chemist pointed. "One of Targo's----"

  In three swift steps Lylda was across the garden, with one foot over the wall into the street. Reaching down she caught the man between her huge fingers, and held him high over her head an instant so that all might see.

  The big crowd was silent with terror; the man high in the air over their heads screamed horribly. Lylda hesitated only a moment more; then she threw back her arm and, with a great great sweep, flung her screaming victim far out into the lake.

  CHAPTER XXV

  THE ESCAPE OF TARGO

  "I am very much afraid it was a wrong move," said the Chemist gravely.

  They were sitting in a corner of the roof, talking over the situation. Lylda had left the city; the last they had seen of her, she was striding rapidly away, over the country towards Orlog. The street and field before the house now was nearly deserted.

  "She had to do it, of course," the Chemist continued, "but to kill Targo's brother----"

  "I wonder," began the Big Business Man thoughtfully. "It seems to me this disturbance is becoming far more serious than we think. It isn't so much a political issue now between your government and the followers of Targo, as it is a struggle against those of us who have this magic, as they call it."

  "That's just the point," put in the Doctor quickly. "They are making the people believe that our power of changing size is a menace that----"

  "If I had only realized," said the Chemist. "I thought your coming would help. Apparently it was the very worst thing that could have happened."

  "Not for you personally," interjected the Very Young Man. "We're perfectly safe--and Lylda, and Loto." He put his arm affectionately around the boy who sat close beside him. "You are not afraid, are you, Loto?"

  "Now I am not," answered the boy seriously. "But this morning, when I left my grandfather, coming home----"

  "You were afraid for your mother. That was it, wasn't it?" finished the Very Young Man. "Does your grandfather teach you?"

  "Yes--he, and father, and mother."

  "I want you to see Lylda's father," said the Chemist. "There is nothing we can do now until Lylda returns. Shall we walk up there?" They all agreed readily.

  "I may go, too?" Loto asked, looking at his father.

  "You have your lessons," said the Chemist.

  "But, my father, it is so very lonely without mother," protested the boy.

  The Chemist smiled gently. "Afraid, little son, to stay with Oteo?"

  "He's not afraid," said the Very Young Man stoutly.

  The little boy looked from one to the other of them a moment silently. Then, calling Oteo's name, he ran across the roof and down into the house.

  "Five years ago," said the Chemist, as the child disappeared, "there was hardly such an emotion in this world as fear or hate or anger. Now the pendulum is swinging to the other extreme. I suppose that's natural, but----" He ended with a sigh, and, breaking his train of thought, rose to his feet. "Shall we start?"

  Lylda's father greeted them gravely, with a dignity, and yet obvious cordiality that was quite in accord with his appearance. He was a man over sixty. His still luxuriant white hair fell to his shoulders. His face was hairless, for in this land all men's faces were as devoid of hair as those of the women. He was dressed in a long, flowing robe similar to those his visitors were wearing.

>   "Because--you come--I am glad," he said with a smile, as he shook hands in their own manner. He spoke slowly, with frequent pauses, as though carefully picking his words. "But--an old man--I know not the language of you."

  He led them into a room that evidently was his study, for in it they saw many strange instruments, and on a table a number of loosely bound sheets of parchment that were his books. They took the seats he offered and looked around them curiously.

  "There is the clock we spoke of," said the Chemist, indicating one of the larger instruments that stood on a pedestal in a corner of the room. "Reoh will explain it to you."