by John Coleman; Burroughs Burroughs; John Coleman; Burroughs Burroughs
“Stop, slave! Touch nothing!”
Mai leaped backward. Instantly that cursed electromagnetism had him. A door slid open. With a sickening rush he shot out of the cavernous ghost chamber. This time the current was far stronger. He was unable to combat it. Total darkness. A sudden glare of lights nearly blinded him.
It was the gigantic laboratory-auditorium where he and the others had been transformed. But now upon the great dais before the control panel sat an amazing creature. Thin, haggard, hardly real at all, the man’s atrophied muscles clung to shrunken bones. Mai gasped. The wraithlike creature was actually translucent.
Under the black leather trappings that hung from the otherwise naked chest, pulsed the dim outlines of the man’s internal organs. Mai could see the heart beating, the lungs expanding and contracting. Wide, coldly staring half-luminous green eyes glowed deep within hollow sockets. Veins and arteries beneath the translucent skin in the neck and face gave the sallow physiognomy an etched, half-dissected appearance. Weak, spindly legs dangled down from the massive chair that must once have held a giant of a man.
Here, then, must be King Thego, ruler of the Lightning Men of Sangorong!
CHAPTER IV - The Memory Machine
At Thego’s side sat many lesser Lightning Men officials, all of the same disconcerting, colorless translucency. Innumerable slaves of all manner of forms hovered in the background. Some were shaped like Mai — beasts of burden — actually carrying Lightning Men upon their backs. Other slaves tended their masters in different ways. One was scratching an official’s back. Another reached into his master’s pocket for some trivial object. Still another poor beast helped blow an official’s nose.
“Lord!” thought Mai. “World’s champion work-dodgers is right!”
Thego was studying Mai with his green, luminous eyes. Presently he spoke in a cold, hollow voice, and Mai could see the king’s larynx within his throat move up and down with each word.
“For a slave to be apprehended within the sacred chamber of our ancestors,” hissed Thego, “usually means death. But I want you for another purpose.” Thego glanced at something a slave held up beside him.
“Your lightning-ray plate, showing the cellular arrangements within your mind and body,” said Thego, “has just been brought to my attention. You may have what I’ve been looking for — may even contribute something to the greatness of the mighty Thego!”
“I am honored,” replied Mai coldly.
“Ages ago,” continued Thego, “our race consisted of both men and women, active and well muscled. But our women died off when we learned to incubate artificially only the males of our race. Then our scholars decided that material things have no value. They thought that true worth is found only in pure thought—in mind. We knew that natural evolution was developing man’s mind, but at a pitifully slow rate. So we perfected a way to accelerate the evolutionary process.
“We are no longer shackled to the material world. Our specialized slaves perform all our gross material duties for the body. Thus were we launched well toward the realm of pure thought by the invention of the Micro-macro Cell Transformation machine, with which you are already familiar,” said Thego, indicating Mai’s specialized body.
“With this machine we can now acquire from various sources the Four Qualities necessary to carry out man’s evolution to a state of pure thought. Those men you saw encased in the sacred chamber are all great Lightning Men who have, after thousands of years, finally acquired all the Four Qualities. They have retired forever to the realm of infinite thought. That is their paradise. There they are able to project their minds at will throughout space. They are free to soar to unknown heights of pure thought, they can do and see and have anything their minds desire!” A wild, fanatical light shone in Thego’s green eyes.
“But those men in the dungeon?” asked Mai. “They weren’t like you. They are all well developed physically, not translucent.”
“For ages our bodies were never touched by the sun,” Thego explained. “All pigmentation vanished. Under the continual experimentation with cell transformation our body cells lost some of their electrical charge, ceased to be so closely knit. We became translucent. So now, before we begin the quest for infinite thought, we transform our bodies to the most perfect form possible.”
“The Four Qualities you desire,” asked Mai, engrossed by Thego’s words, “what are they?”
No man normally possesses all,” replied Thego. “We have found them in both Lightning Men and in rodents. Our search for the Four Qualities we want is relentless. We look for, first, Will Power — absolute control of mind and body; second, Control Over Death — Agelessness; third, Mental Telepathy; and fourth, Cosmic Vision — the ability to look forward and backward in time and space—to see the past, foretell the future.
“Whenever we capture a man we first tabulate him by means of the photo-molecucellular lightning-ray machine which clearly shows every cell and molecule in the body — even to the protons and electrons. With these lightning-ray plates as a guide we can alter a man’s cellular arrangement to comply with any shape we wish. We merely improve on Nature’s tendency toward over-specialization. We can transform him into a monstrosity, and even back to his original shape.”
“You mean,” interrupted Mai, “that you could transform me back again, to my normal shape?”
“Quite easily,” replied Thego. “But that will be unnecessary.” And Thego’s eyes clung to Mai. “We have found that men possessing any one of these Four Qualities show this fact in their cellular arrangement and the strength of the minute electrical charges holding the body cells together.
“When we have carefully studied each lightning-ray plate in our files we know which of our captives is worth more to us than a mere slave. By means of the transformation machine and the instinct memory screen, we are able to take from the slaves who have it, the quality we want and incorporate it into one of our own people. Thus another Lightning Man advances a step further toward his long awaited paradise.”
“And what happens to the slave?” said Mai tensely.
“He dies, of course,” replied Thego calmly. “But what of it? A slave is nothing to the onward sweep of our evolution. We are supreme beings! All other life is made but to serve us! Just as you shall, Earthman, for we believe you possess the Fourth Quality that I need for my own Great Journey — Cosmic Vision! But to make absolutely certain that you have it,” exclaimed Thego eagerly, “I shall put you through the instinct memory machine.”
“What do you mean?” asked Mai, instantly wary.
Thego pointed to a large rectangular screen. “That’s the instinct memory machine. It’s one of our greatest inventions. With that we can retrace a man’s memory, even trace the course of human evolution and show it in three-dimensional picture form on that screen.” Thego paused. “Earthman, did you know that a portion of the human brain is composed of tiny microscopic brain cells arranged in specific memory patterns, each inherited from an ancestor?
“Yes, and each cell group retains the actual memory of the ancestor from whom it was acquired. In other words, one portion of your brain is made up of connected nerve synopses that are an accumulation of the inherited cell arrangements throughout the entire course of evolution from the beginning of life on your planet. The memory screen is able to pick up and amplify the tiny currents of electricity oscillating from each brain cell and projects an image on the screen.
“We remember past events in our lifetimes because our brains can coordinate the minute electrical charges that each past event registers on our memory cell pattern. A few men with extremely powerful wills are able to control their thoughts and memories better than others. It usually shows on the screen. But the brain cannot — unaided — pick up the even more minute charges emanating from a more remote past — before our births. Our machine can do that!”
At the king’s signal a swarm of slaves surrounded Mai. Electrodes were fastened to his wrists and temples. An electrical current
surged through his body. Instantly, strangely, his memory became astoundingly vivid. Upon the instinct memory screen a three-dimensional scene suddenly flashed. It was a reflection of the very scene in the room. Mai saw himself, Thego, and the others. At first he thought it was a mirror. But in a moment the scene swiftly changed like the fading out and in of a motion picture image. Successively now flashed scenes of Mai’s own life, in reverse sequence, back to the very time of his youth.
But there the astounding kaleidoscope did not stop. Events in his father’s life, his grandfather’s — back through the very take-off of the great Ark of Space from the Earth those 235 long years ago. And still the scenes kept coming as early Earth history unfolded itself.
“Enough!” cried Thego as he turned off the switch. A fanatical gleam of pleasure shone in the luminous green eyes. “You’re the man for whom I’ve waited five hundred years! Never have I seen the Fourth so marvelously incorporated in one man. Now I shall be able to make the Great Journey!”
Thego's eyes gleamed brightly as he went on.
“Make no attempt to escape, Earth-man. It is impossible. The rest of your race will be captured for they, too, may possess some of the Qualities. And tomorrow, before all the Lightning Men and slaves of Sangorong, I shall take from your brain the Fourth Quality that will set me free. Guards, take him away!”
Back within the prison again, Noovia, Roto, the professor and the Arkians eagerly approached Mai.
“Quickly!” said Mai. “There’s no time to lose!”
Briefly he outlined what had happened to him and what was in store for them all in the morning.
“Thego is no madman,” he told them. “He’ll capture everyone in Arkadia unless we can thwart him before it’s too late. But I’ve got a plan. It all hinges on the fact that the Lighning Men have been dependent on slaves for so long that they’d be absolutely helpless without them. Thego said that all the slaves would be in the ceremony chamber tomorrow. If we can deprive the Lightning Men of the services of their slaves — ” “I’ve got you!” shouted Roto enthusiastically. “We must get the slaves to revolt!”
“That’s it,” said Mai. “And to do it—” Noovia’s hand suddenly pressed against Mai’s lips.
“The walls,” she whispered. “They hear.” She handed Mai some paper and a writing implement. “It’s safer to write than to speak.”.
And in the breathless silence of the cold prison cell, Mai hastily scribbled the plans that would spell either salvation or doom for the last remnants of the race of Earthmen.
“Because you and McWeety work in their ship hangar at night,” wrote Mai to Roto, “you may have a chance to seize a ship tonight. If luck stays with you, try to fly back to Arkadia and Rador. Bring the entire Arkadian fleet back here. Have our ships fly within the insulated area surrounding the Lightning Men’s craft that you’ll be operating. We’ll do our part in the meantime. Tell Rador that it’s our last chance, for in Sangorong our people will never have to fear the lightning again.”
“Jiggers!” whispered Roto. “The door’s opening—it’s time for the night shift to go to the hangar. Come on, McWeety”
“Remember,” Mai whispered as they started to leave, “we must succeed. Under the protection of this copper-domed city is the very home Arkadia has long wanted. It’s our last chance!” As the door closed behind Roto and McWeety, Mai turned to Noovia.
“If it works they’ll be back in twelve hours to help us. Otherwise—” He shrugged, hopelessly.
Far into the night Mai, Noovia and the professor scribbled the plans for the revolt of the slaves of Sangorong. While Mai and the girl whispered until the late hours, Mai learned of her courage and deep belief in human freedom. His mind kept returning to that first moment he had seen her—a woman more beautiful than he had ever dreamed. Strangely now he wanted more than ever to make the revolt a success.
Early the next morning they were led into the great laboratory-ceremonial chamber. Thousands of Lightning Men and their slaves were there.
For nearly an hour they kept coming. Soon there was not an empty seat in the vast auditorium. At a signal from a Lightning Man on the stagelike dais the entire assemblage rose. From a side door, mounted upon a slave whose proportions were similar to Mai’s, rode King Thego. The slaves deposited the ruler upon a magnificently decorated throne.
MalL grew tense. The time was at hand. All the slaves of the city were there. He glanced at the huge skylight high overhead.
“We can’t wait for Roto,” he whispered to Noovia. “It’s now or never.” His eyes were upon the thousands of slaves. “Now remember, after I grab Thego and leap to the throne with him, I’ll yell to the slaves to revolt and threaten to kill Thego if the Lightning Men oppose us. But I want you, Noovia, as one of their own Nova Terrans, to support my words. They’ll be more apt to follow if they know you believe in me.”
Noovia suddenly grabbed Mai’s arm. “Look!” she gasped. Thego was signaling to the slaves manning the giant electro-magnet gun. Every other slave in the auditorium was suddenly jerked from his place beside his master and jammed into a small area at the far side of the laboratory. They were all held fast and helpless by the invisible bonds of electro-magnetism. Mai felt his own muscles stiffen to the shock. Something had gone wrong. Noovia shot him a puzzled, desperate glance.
A diabolical grin twisted Thego’s cold, sallow face.
“I told you once, Earthman, . that no one could escape Sangorong.”
The coldness of lost hope, impending doom, gripped Mai. Thego had learned their plans. The walls did have ears—had overheard Roto’s one spoken word — “revolt” — before they had taken to writing their plans.
Like a cornered animal Mai’s eyes groped for some last avenue of escape. The professor, and Noovia, too, were helplessly shackled.
CHAPTER V - Earthman's Lightning
Two husky slaves led Mai quickly to the foot of the great transformation mechanism. His mind raced madly. There had to be a way out before it would be too late. Once subjected to that ghastly process he knew he would be dead. Again his eyes sought the skylight. If only Rador would come. He was not afraid to die as his own father had done—sacrificing his life for his people. But to die uselessly, his friends still unprotected, their future hopeless — that was what he dreaded most.
Mai’s eyes clung to the king. Pompously Thego took his place in the adjoining glass cell. There was much ritual. The ceremony seemed very sacred. A fanatical fervor shook Thego’s body. Mai could see the king’s heart beating faster.
Slave attendants fastened Mai to a slab in the glass cell. Electrodes were applied securely to his wrists and temples. He lay on his back. Thego and his cell were a scant five feet from Mai’s. The king’s was ornately designed. Overhead beyond the vast skylight were storm clouds and an occasional patch of the blue lightning - slashed sky he had learned to love so well. And in that same instant he recognized several tiny specks in the distance — a fleet of trim fighting ships!
Roto had got through! Rador was coming!
Thego must have seen them at the same moment. Quickly he issued orders to the attendant preparing him for the ceremony.
A crew of slaves swarmed over the giant electro-magnet gun towering above the stage. Its muzzle pointed toward an opening in the skylight. What ghastly trick could they be up to now, wondered Mai.
One of the advance ships of the Arkian fleet passed directly over the city, a swift two-man craft. The great magnet gun swung into action. Suddenly the Arkian ship faltered in midair, rose abruptly in elevation, out of control. Hurtling upward at terrific speed, spiraling, twisting, it gained altitude until it was lost from sight in the clouds — catapulted away from the planet.
Mai was appalled. He realized what those fiendish Lightning Men were doing. They were inducing a repellent charge of electricity in the Arkian ships that would make them hurl away from the similarly charged planet, hurtle far out into the chasm of interstellar space.
And now the second A
rkian ship zoomed over the city. Again the magnet gun vibrated. As if caught in a Gargantuan cyclonic updraft the tiny ship whirled upward into the clouds of the upper atmosphere and disappeared forever from sight. Mai tugged at the bonds that held him. In the distance he could see the main body of Rador’s fleet. As the last ship hurled into space, Rador swung his fleet about and retreated from view.
Thego scoffed at their efforts.
“Fools! I told you the Sangorongy are supreme beings.” He waved his hand. “On with the ceremony!” he commanded.
Thego was quickly sealed into the glass coffinlike cell in which he would spend the rest of eternity. Wires connecting Mai and Thego were carefully adjusted. They led to the great three-dimensional instinct memory screen that would be used to check the progress of the transmission of Mai’s “evolutionary memory” into the brain of Thego himself.
Mai looked at the slaves. Noovia was crying. The professor seemed lost in the maze of interesting scientific procedure attendant to the ceremony. Even in the face of death Mai could not suppress a wan smile at his old friend.
An electric tremor again gripped his body. A scene flashed upon the screen, a three-dimensional picture of the laboratory, all that Mai himself had just seen in the room. Mai could feel Thego’s mind controlling the process. His brain worked frantically. Pounding in his head were words Thego had spoken yesterday: “Some men — powerful wills — control thoughts — control — control!” Great beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. The veins on his neck and temples bulged. He must concentrate on his plan, control the thoughts of his mind.
Slowly the screen image changed. A startled murmur arose from the huge audience. Upon the screen they saw an image of the Earthman rising from the glass cell in which he was but just sealed. But yet they could see him still actually inside the glass cell. They were completely awed. No longer could their eyes leave the screen.