They Found Atlantis

by Dennis Wheatley

  They had met all the Atlanteans now, after the emergency waking which Menes had decreed and watched them in silence as they proceeded to their special conference.

  Two by two they walked up the steps of the Temple, hand in hand. Menes and Semiramis first—both grey and white haired, yet upright elderly people, very gracious and benign in mien as befitted the rulers of such an advanced community.

  Nahou followed them, leading a dark smooth-haired Russian looking woman called Tzarinska.

  Next came Quet, who had the features and colouring of a Red Indian and an aristocratic bearing suitable to a Mexican noble before the Spanish conquest. With him walked Laötzii. She looked to be a little over forty and possessed that curious beauty which is seen only in the mixed union of a European and a Chinese.

  Rahossis came after her and by her side a fair Greek-Godlike young man called Peramon. He was better looking even than Nicky, although of the same type and, realising it Nicky was filled with a deep jealous rage which made his face turn almost chalk white.

  Lulluma walked behind her mother escorted by a tall dark boy. His features made the spectators of the procession think of Ancient Egypt or Peru and they knew that he was named Karnoum.

  Last of all came Danöe, splendid in her Nordic loveliness and by the hand she clasped her young brother Ciston—a true child of Italy or Spain.

  Sally shivered slightly as the last two closed the golden doors of the temple behind them. Axel had learned only ten minutes before from Lulluma the reason for the council and passed it on to the rest. The knowledge that their fate still lay in the balance had turned their gaiety into an anxious gravity.

  “I wonder what they will decide,” she murmured half to herself.

  “It is death for us if they will not allow us to remain,” said the Doctor.

  “Is it?” enquired the McKay, bracing his shoulders. “It may be death for them! I’ve still got a couple of bombs left you know.”

  “You couldn’t!” exclaimed Camilla “after they’ve been so kind.”

  “If you did I’d never speak to you again,” declared Sally almost in the same breath.

  “Well,” he apologised, “God forbid that we should do them any harm but we’d be sunk for good if we had to leave this place—and if it comes to a choice of their lives or ours what’s a chap to do?”

  In the face of this potent argument they all fell silent except the Doctor, who announced: “Fear! That is the great curse of the world. If it were not for fear all the millions on the upper earth might dwell as happily as these people here. They are afraid that our presence might upset their well-ordered lives, and we are afraid to go out into the darkness. Ach! If only all men could cast out fear all should be saved.”

  For a few moments they remained staring at the closed doors of the temple, then Sally said suddenly:

  “It’s no good us standing here. I’ve got a feeling that it is going to be all right. Anyway they’re far too gentle to turn us out summarily before we’ve had another meal. Let’s do what we can to prepare supper for them and for ourselves when they have finished their pow-wow.”

  Her idea was accepted readily and the whole party trooped off to the kitchen. There, to their surprise they found many things already prepared. The Atlanteans had apparently busied themselves with arrangements immediately after their awakening.

  There were four freshly caught fish, two of the little deer already skinned and gralloched and a quantity of newly gathered vegetables spread out on the tables.

  Axel took charge since he considered himself, with some justification, a master of the culinary art. The girls understood enough simple cooking to follow his directions and the others took the necessary platters for the meal out into the garden.

  In three quarters of an hour the gold plate was spread out below the temple steps for eighteen persons to banquet facing the swimming pool. Fruit, flowers, and the wheaten biscuits which served for bread, had been arranged; only the cooked dishes remained—nearly ready and gently simmering on the long stove which was automatically fed by heat directed from the earthshine.

  The McKay was setting the golden goblets and the little liqueur cups opposite each place when the doors of the temple opened and the Atlanteans came out. He straightened immediately and, abandoning his task, confronted Menes.

  “Well, Sir,” he said abruptly “We’ll be glad to know what decision you’ve arrived at.”

  The grey-haired Atlantean raised his hand in a gesture like a blessing; “The Gods are favourable” he answered gently. “You and your people may remain—we make you welcome!”

  He did not specify if by ‘The Gods’ he meant the Council of the Atlanteans or Deities whom they had consulted, but the McKay did not bother his head about that. He gave his frank smile and said:

  “That’s very nice of you Sir. We are all more grateful than we will ever find words to express, I’m sure. Anyhow we’ll give you no trouble and conform to your laws to the best of our ability. We’ll work for our keep of course, most gladly, and lend a hand to keep the place just as shipshape and lovely as you’ve made it.”

  Menes laid his hand on the McKay’s shoulder. His humanity urged him to accept the coming of these strangers now that a general sanction had been granted, although it was against his better judgement but, in his wisdom, he knew that time would inevitably unfold the true nature of the newcomers and if the need arose the Council of the Gods must meet again.

  “I thank you my son,” he said gravely. Then he smiled towards the array of gold plate. “It pleases me to see this earnest of your willingness which you have given us already.”

  “That’s the least we could do Sir. The girls are busy cooking supper. You’ve only to say the word and it shall be served when you wish. We thought, with your permission, we’d wait on your people since they’ve been hard at it looking after us all day.”

  The fine old man shook his head. “A courteous thought, but one to which I cannot agree. Now that we have accepted you there are neither hosts nor guests amongst us. Each will do his share and look first to the wants of his immediate neighbour, as is our custom here. Now, by all means, let us dine.”

  The Atlanteans invaded the kitchen into which Lulluma had already run, carrying the good news to Axel and the two girls. A quarter of an hour later they were all laughing and jesting as they sat on the grass before the temple steps, participating in the alfresco banquet.

  By the time they had finished the earthshine had dimmed to its lowest limit and there was only just sufficient light for them to see comfortably. To read by it would not have been possible but they could still see each other’s faces as they would have in the gentle starlight of an August night in that upper world so far above their heads. Behind the pool the gardens were filled with shadows and the large trees were now black shapes, rising from mysterious scented belts of darkness, yet the air remained warm and still.

  The plates and dishes were removed and then Nahou produced fresh goblets and half a dozen flasks from which he poured a thick, dark-golden liquid.

  “This is our wine for festivals,” he said “I hope that you will find it compares favourably with those of the upper world. I am chief vintager and responsible for its keeping.”

  Doctor Tisch’s eyes grew round with pleasure as he sipped it. “This is Rhine Wine” he declared “and the finest which I haf ever tasted although it has a something different flavour also. No Palatinate, even in the greatest years, could be so rich.”

  “More like Chateau Y’Quem I should have said” remarked the McKay with relish. “Chateau Y’Quem, my friend, with a dash of old sherry flavour to it.”

  “We call it Nektar’ said Nahou with quiet satisfaction. “It has been known under that name from the beginning of time. It is made by allowing the grapes to hang on the vines until all their water has been absorbed by the earthshine. They become wrinkled then, like raisins, so that all their flavour and sweetness is condensed.”

  Vladimir gave a long-drawn ha
ppy sigh “A rose between two other thorns can smell as good” he misquoted solemnly. “This is not Hock, Y’Quem, or Sherry—it is Imperial Tokay and vintaged similarly.”

  He swung round then with a great laugh to Camilla and raised his goblet in the air. “Drink my sweet beautiful! God is gracious to his child Vladimir Renescu. Gracious indeed to give me wine, that I never thought to taste again, for my wedding’s night. Drink! And later we will make great happiness together. Drink, all of you, I beg. Pledge us in this so magnificent Tokay.”

  Both his friends and the Atlanteans responded with the utmost heartiness. The former loved him for the brave simple soul they knew him to be and the people of the island were already attached to him more than to any of the other strangers, with the exception of Lulluma’s preference for Axel, because his spontaneous gaiety fitted in so well with their own nature. Even Nicky raised a cheer, for now that Camilla was stripped of her millions she no longer held the glamour she had had for him and was no more than just a very pretty girl such as he had dallied with by the dozen in the past. Besides he was sitting next the auburn-haired Rahossis so Vladimir could have Camilla, and Sally into the bargain, as far as Nicky was concerned.

  As the plaudits and good wishes ceased Nahou refilled the goblets and Menes held up his hand for silence.

  “Dear children” he said “None of us have yet heard more than a garbled version of the manner in which our friends arrived here. To come down through the sea and then through the black lands of the fish-eaters must indeed have been a desperate venture. You are all on tenterhooks I know to hear particulars of this wonderful journey.” He glanced at the McKay whom he had placed, quite naturally, as the leader of the party, “Will you not entertain us by an account of your great achievement?”

  “Well, Sir” the McKay hesitated “I’d be only too pleased to tell you, but spinning a yarn about the adventure in which we’ve been involved is not my strong suit—Count Axel now is a born raconteur. He’d make a far better job of it than I should.”

  The Count was persuaded without any difficulty and, with Lulluma nestling against his shoulder, thrilled by his every word, he told their story from the day of Doctor Tisch’s arrival in Madeira.

  The Atlanteans listened absorbedly, refraining courteously from interruptions except when Menes asked for a point to be explained—much as a judge does who may already know the answer but wishes that a, possibly ignorant, jury may be further informed.

  When the tale was done many questions were put to Axel and the Atlanteans regarded the newcomers with a new admiration now that they understood to the full their fortitude and courage in the perils they had shared. Then Axel bowed to Menes;

  “We too, Sir, have an even greater curiosity—since you at least knew of our race, whereas we were totally ignorant of yours. Is it permitted that we ask some questions in our turn?”

  Menes inclined his high polished beautifully proportioned forehead; “Ask, and you shall be answered my son.”

  “These fish-eaters, as you call them,” Axel began. “Are they human or animal?”

  “They are neither—and to explain them I must go back many centuries” Menes smiled. “Perhaps it would be best if I recounted to you something of Atlantean history and explain how it is that although our great race were almost annihilated by the cataclysm, we twelve descendants of it live now, a mile beneath the ocean, at the present day.”

  There were eager murmurs from Axel and his party and so the benign old man went on;

  “The birth of our nation goes back into the mists of antiquity, further even than we can ever know. We can only say that we possess twenty-nine thousand years of recorded history. That is to say, our people had reached a sufficient degree of civilisation to hand down the story of their doings eighteen thousand years before the Flood, although of course in those early days they can have been little more than barbarians who elected chieftains, one of whom was strong enough to become paramount above the rest and keep the peace in order that progress towards true culture might begin.

  “Those of you who believed in the legend which still lingers in the upper world of a great island, lying at one time in the centre of the North Atlantic, are correct. It was there that, for countless generations, safely secured from extermination by the savage hordes who populated the whole of the outer world through our surrounding seas, we advanced in all things to such a state that, apart from your mechanical inventions of the last hundred and fifty years, you can still show us nothing new.

  “We domesticated many animals training them to our uses and, with patient care, converted the wild grasses into cereal crops. The larger portion of our island consisted of a great plain which lay to the southward under almost constant sunshine and which was blessed with an unusual degree of fertility, so that there was abundant food for all and yet still room for wild forests in which our ancestors preserved every sort of game.

  “To tell you one tenth of the marvels of that country in the days before the cataclysm would take a year. Let it suffice that our architecture was advanced far beyond anything which man has yet achieved; our system of supply regulated to a degree in which no man ever needed to go hungry but no troublesome surplus ever arose; and that the systems of law and morality which we evolved through so many centuries have never been equalled for their justice and toleration.

  “The time came, alas, when evil powers filled our people with greed and sloth. They began to accumulate riches, which in themselves could bring them no more than they already had, and they were no longer content to work, even their easy hours, in the mines or fields.

  “As with all other nations we had had in our midst from the beginning certain persons who practised what, for want of a better name, I will call the Black Art. At first they were comparatively harmless, dealing only in spells, love-tokens and minor witchcraft, but the time came when they began to concern themselves with what you call ‘science’ and that proved the most unholy alliance which has ever entered the world.

  “To secure our precious metals we had mines in those days as deep, and even deeper than you have now. Some of them ran to eleven or twelve thousand feet below the surface of the earth, but we lacked your wonderful mechanical lifts which I have observed with interest on my spiritual journeys to the upper world. In consequence the shifts of miners could be relieved only in batches of a few hundred every day. They went down for a period of two weeks and on their return to the sunshine had to be hauled up those many thousand feet by hand.

  “You can well imagine how loathed and dreaded this twice yearly period of duty in the mines became to our people—for none was exempted—not even the sons of the inherited as does always the eldest male here.”

  He paused for a moment and laid his hand on the shoulder of the gracious white-haired lady who sat next him. “Semiramis, too, inherits her title from the great queens of those days, and when she dies, her daughter Tzarinska, will take the name instead, just as my dear son Nahou will be known as Menes after my death—of what was I speaking, though?”

  “Of the miners,” prompted Sally gently.

  “Ah, yes. It was in this ever growing labour, as the mines grew deeper year by year, that the sorcerer-scientists saw their great chance to corrupt our people with their evil arts. They carried out many experiments in order to see if they could not succeed in creating life without the sanction of the Gods. ‘Black’ Magicians in your upper world have endeavoured to do the same and have, as you may know, at times been partially successful. Such creatures are incubated in large glass containers and are termed Homunculii. They have the rudimentary form of man yet lack that God-given flame which you call the Soul. Our masters of Evil succeeded in the dread mystery at last, thus introducing a new and hideous race upon the earth. Beasts which moved and talked and functioned just like men although, unlike the lowest forms of true animal, they had not the faintest spark of the divine nature in them.”

  “Those are the submen then?” murmured the McKay.

  Mene
s nodded. “Yes. You of course, only saw their descendants after nearly a thousand generations, for they had the power to breed like other species, although they come to maturity very rapidly and their lives are short. Their first ancestors were sent down into the mines and trained to hew and carry so that our forefathers might be relieved of that irksome but health-giving labour. Later they were driven to work in droves and the only Atlanteans who remained in the mines were experts who directed the operations and overseers who supervised the slave gangs.” He sighed and paused; his audience waited patiently until he went on.

  “The Gods move slowly but they miss nothing and when they found that man had usurped their privilege of giving life they were exceeding wrath. They gathered in their strength and might and power to discuss the evil which had been done by bringing brute beasts into the world, and they decided to destroy utterly our portion of the earth.

  “Once they had made this decision they acted swiftly and in a single day and night of untold horror the greatest civilisation the world has ever known was blotted out. Thunderbolts streaked the air; the fountains of the deep gushed up, the floodgates of Heaven were opened, the rivers rose and overflowed their banks. Great winds carried men, houses, animals and trees like chaff before them through the torrential rain. The Palaces and Pyramids were shaken to their foundations and cracked as the earth shuddered beneath them. The earth sank into the ocean bed and vast tidal waves swept it from end to end. One, perhaps, out of every hundred thousand of our people escaped alive, the rest perished utterly—and after, the Empire of Atlantis became only a name—a legend which men speculate upon over their evening fires just as they would tell again an oft told fairy tale.”