They Found Atlantis

by Dennis Wheatley

  Even Menes, when he arrived, seemed stupefied by the shock and quite incompetent to deal with the situation. In consequence the McKay took charge and the rest, as usual, accepted his orders without any question.

  The Doctor’s body and Nicky’s unconscious form were carried back to the centre of the island. There, the wailing Atlantean women claimed the former and insisted on taking it into the temple. For a moment it occurred to Sally that, as a good Christian, the Doctor might not care to have pagan rites performed over his body, but even the McKay found it impossible to resist the distraught importunity of Semiramis and the females of her family. On learning that the burial would not take place until the following day, he felt that the temple was as good a place as any for the corpse to remain the night, so he let them have their way.

  He enquired then what Menes wished done with Nicky, but the old man shook his head as though hopelessly bewildered.

  Quet spoke to him in Atlantean and evidently told him what he had done to the evil-doer in the grove. Menes then made certain passes over Nicky’s head and said:

  “I have caused him to pass into a natural sleep. He will not wake until to-morrow night.”

  The McKay escorted Menes to his apartment. The male Atlanteans walked slowly away with downcast heads. Sally, Camilla, Vladimir and Axel remained in a silent stricken group beside the pool.

  After a few moments the McKay joined them again.

  “Well?” whispered Sally.

  “The poor old Admiral’s all to pieces,” he replied tonelessly. “You see there hasn’t been a murder here since 1066—no, since the Flood I mean. All these people always die a natural death, so they’re shocked out of their senses. Just listen to those women now!”

  Piercing long-drawn cries coming from the direction of the temple made the night hideous. There was something about that eerie persistent wailing which made their flesh creep and the top of their scalps prickle.

  Axel shuddered. “It is the spilling of blood which has affected them so profoundly.”

  “Oh, it’s horrible.” Camilla dabbed her eyes. “Just to think of the Doctor being dead now when he was laughing with us only an hour ago at supper.”

  “Yes,” said Sally. “Yes, it’s awful. He was such a harmless little man, but all the same,” she added practically, “terrible as this is for everybody, he was our friend more than theirs. I don’t see why they should be so utterly distracted. They must have seen bloodshed before on their travels in the upper world.”

  “Maybe, me’dear,” the McKay replied, “and you’ve read of ghosts or the Devil appearing in stories, but you’d get a pretty nasty shock if Satan stood before you in the flesh one night—cloven hooves and all.”

  “I forgot that. Of course, they only see the people in our upper world as though they were acting in a sort of motion picture and the happenings there aren’t truly real to them at all.”

  “No, only as stories for cocks and bulls,” muttered Vladimir miserably.

  They sank again into a tense silence. All five of them had been marvellously happy during these past weeks. They had accepted the life in this heaven that they had found so completely that it almost seemed now as if they had never known any other, and it had become unthinkable that any event should suddenly leap out upon them to mar their perfect joy.

  “What would the Atlanteans do to Nicky?” “Could life in the island ever be quite so carefree and wonderful again?” Those were the thoughts which agitated them to the very depths of their beings, but they shrank from putting their fears into words.

  Obviously there was nothing to be done for the moment so they took a despondent leave of each other and separated, but none of them was to get much sleep that night.

  The keening of the women in the temple continued unabated and all the doctor’s friends were saddened with the thought that they would never hear his guttural laugh again. They felt too, now, that they had never taken the trouble to be quite as nice to him as they should have been when he was alive. As Sally had said, he was such a harmless little man. His only vice was the apparently crazy desire to discover Atlantis, which had ended for them in this unique experience and, latterly, his eagerness to form a collection of the island’s leaves and flowers.

  Camilla wept passionately on Vladimir’s broad chest when he had carried her up to that absurd tree-top home which had caused the Atlanteans so much amusement but which they had had such fun in making together. Sally wept too, in spite of all the McKay’s efforts to comfort her with theoretical assurances that death was not a thing to be afraid of after all, and that where the Doctor had gone he had probably forgotten all about them now through being busy with the collection of another lot of flowers. Axel went back to the jungle, but he could not face his usual vine-hung couch without Lulluma and she was with the other women mourning for the dead. Like a lean ghost he roamed the island, haunting the scenes of his past happiness, while darkness lasted. Nicky the evil-doer alone slept peacefully, deep in the oblivion into which Menes had bade him pass by those signs of power made across his unconscious head.

  In the morning everyone was astir early. Pale and exhausted, their beautiful faces haggard now from the stress of their emotion, the women came out of the temple. The Atlantean men crouched on its steps in dull apathy. None of them made any attempt to get themselves breakfast, so the McKay ordered his party to pick some ripe fruit and serve it as though nothing had happened, but the Atlanteans refused to eat. The women, who all seemed to have aged ten years in a single night, flung themselves down where they were to sleep and the men sat unmoving, silent and heavy eyed.

  Nicky slept on, a huddled figure beside the pool, the Doctor’s blood still staining his guilty hands. After a little Sally could bear the sight no longer and strove to wake him, but Menes’ hypnotic power held him in its spell. Failing in her efforts she washed his limp hands before them all, tidied his golden hair, and arranged him more comfortably. The McKay walked away behind some bushes while she did it in order that none of the others should see his face. He rated himself furiously because he was ‘blubbing like a stupid kid’ and such a thing hadn’t happened to him in a quarter of a century, but he just couldn’t help it, he loved her so much.

  When he had cursed himself into renewed composure and Sally had completed her self-appointed task, he gathered his party together and led them off into the depths of the garden.

  The flowers blossomed just as they had yesterday, some were fading but new varieties were bursting from their buds in those Elysian fields that held eternal Spring, but somehow there was a subtle difference. The spirit of death brooded over the secret enclosures. The leaves of the trees still hung motionless in the windless air, yet they seemed to whisper to one another: “Death and decay—death and decay.”

  The McKay halted in an open space and sat down on the grass. The others followed suit.

  “Look here,” he said, “I couldn’t sleep a wink last night and I’ve been thinking. Quite apart from anything the Admiral may decide, we’ve got to make up our own minds what our attitude is going to be about Nicky’s crime—and then hang together.”

  “Our own laws may not be perfect, but in this they are the only guide we have,” suggested Axel.

  “That’s my view, but the point is—did Nicky commit murder?”

  “I would interpret murder as a deliberate attempt to kill another human being,” declared the Count, “and Nicky said this was an accident. I believe him too.”

  “So do I,” agreed Camilla, “and anyhow he was tight when he did it.”

  “Of course he was tight, but that would not be accepted as an excuse in any court of law,” rejoined the McKay abruptly. “If you kill anybody when you’re driving a car and you’ve had one over the odds it’s manslaughter in the first degree, but this is worse unfortunately. We have to remember that Nicky struck a blow in anger and that blow caused the Doctor’s death.”

  “He didn’t mean to kill him though,” protested Sally.

 
“Perhaps not, but the fact is that he did.”

  “He made a smashing most unfortunate as I might have done myself,” said Vladimir, “but what do you think the Atlanteans will treat him to?”

  The McKay shrugged. “It’s impossible to say. They may have some form of trial. If so it’s my view that we ought to let their law take its course. It’s the usual thing to accept the decision of the courts in whatever country you happen to be, and this place belongs to the Atlanteans after all.”

  “If there is a trial I don’t see how they can say it was anything but manslaughter,” Sally argued, “but even if they did there won’t be any question of—of an execution. They are far too gentle.”

  Axel backed her up. “They would shrink from that for their own sakes I am certain, but if they sent him to Coventry it would only be asking for more trouble, and in such a small place it is hardly practical to put him in prison with everyone taking turns at jailer. It is just possible that they might turn him out of the island though.”

  “They couldn’t!” exclaimed Camilla.

  “No—no,” Vladimir followed her horrified protest. “I have never liked that Nicky but he has been through much with us. It would be death twice times out there in the black dark. I would wring his so stupid neck myself rather than he should suffer such awfulness.”

  “That’s how I feel,” muttered the McKay. “He is one of us so, rotten little blackguard as he is, we’ve got to do our best for him. The Doctor wasn’t a vengeful man and I’m sure he would say the same if he were here to speak for himself.”

  “What will you do if Menes decrees some punishment for him of which we have not thought?” Axel enquired slowly.

  “Providing it’s humane things must run their course. Nicky will have to take his medicine, I’m afraid.”

  “Even—even if they do say it was murder and want to—to …” Camilla’s voice trailed away at the awful thought of the fair handsome Nicky, who had so often made love to her in his own conceited way, being led out to die.

  “I think so, if it’s a fair trial, although of course it’s up to us to do every mortal thing we can to get him off. You see …” the McKay paused and then went on again more slowly. “I hope I haven’t pushed myself forward, but in a way you seem to have looked to me as the leader of the party ever since we got stuck in the bathysphere, and the old Admiral appears to regard me in that way too—so I feel a certain responsibility towards you all. That’s why I take that view. If the law here decrees that Nicky is ‘for it’ we can hardly say the verdict isn’t just, so we have no real moral grounds for using force in order to save him. If we did the Atlanteans would be quite entitled to retaliate in any way they chose. Well, they at all events are completely innocent and they have been marvellously kind, so it would be the basest ingratitude on our part to start a scrap in which some of them would be certain to get pretty badly hurt; but there’s worse to it than that. If it came to a showdown the odds are in their favour, so we might even have to kill some of them before we succeeded in getting control of the island; or they may have something up their sleeve, seeing the way Quet laid Nicky out, which would make a mess of us—and we’ve got Sally and Camilla to consider. I’m sorry for Nicky, just because he’s been with us from the beginning, although he’s a vicious little brute, but my sympathies are with the Admiral and his pals. In any case though, even if I liked Nicky a lot better than I do, I couldn’t advise the sacrifice of innocent lives to save him from justice, and I’ve no intention of imperilling the safety of the Atlanteans or our party in that way.”

  Axel nodded. “The thought of starting a civil war here is too horrible to contemplate and, as we should be the aggressors, totally unjustified. Whatever Nicky’s punishment it will not be barbarous—we can be sure of that—therefore we have no possible right to interfere.”

  “Oh, poor Nicky!” Camilla suddenly burst into tears.

  The conference ended then. Everyone felt that the McKay was right. They could do no more for Nicky than plead his jealousy and drunkenness as extenuating circumstances. There was nothing else to be said.

  The leaden hours of the morning drifted by at last, but when midday came the Atlanteans again refused all offers of food. The others had no heart to cook a meal and nibbled at the fresh fruit without a thought as to its flavour.

  In the early afternoon Lulluma awoke and Axel managed to get her to himself for a few moments behind one of the blocks of buildings.

  She stared at him in dumb agony, her big eyes ringed by deep purple circles. On his questioning her she clung to him like a frightened child and became almost incoherent.

  All he could gather was that the Doctor’s funeral would take place at twilight and after that she saw everything “Black—black—black.”

  The island now seemed to have become unreal again. It was held in the thrall of a horrid silence. To all the McKay’s party the time of waiting seemed interminable. At length the earthshine began to dim and Nahou approached them.

  “Menes says that you may come to the temple if you wish,” was all he said. Then he turned away as though reluctant to have further speech with them.

  They stood up at once and followed him to the temple steps where the Atlanteans had already gathered, then the whole population of the island except Nicky, who still slept, passed through its golden doors.

  None of the McKay’s party had been inside the temple before. It was small but exceedingly magnificent. Only the dim light prevented their eyes being dazzled by the pure red gold of its walls and ceiling, while countless gems glittered dully in its furniture.

  Two lines, each of six throne-like stalls, faced each other across the choir, but none of these were now occupied, the whole congregation stood bunched together just inside the doors while Menes, robed in white, occupied a position before the altar, which was quite plain, having only an inscription in Atlantean above it.

  In the middle of the choir there was a gorgeous bier upon which lay the still form of the Doctor. At each of its corners stood a blue stone jar about a foot in height, and Axel guessed rightly that these held the brains, heart, liver and intestines which had been removed from the body by the women during the night. It was evident that they meant to embalm and mummify Doctor Tisch, hence the necessity for the immediate removal of these perishable parts, later his corpse would be soaked in bitumen, and this was only a preliminary service.

  Menes muttered in Atlantean. The congregation bowed as if in assent, then they broke into a doleful dirge. After that came an interminable litany, more chanting, more mutterings from Menes and deep obeisances from the rest. Next Menes sealed the nine openings of the Doctor’s body, with ritualistic signs, so that no evil thing might enter into it.

  Little Ciston came forward from the crowd and stood behind the head of the bier, Menes took up a position at its foot and began to ask questions in a loud voice to each of which Ciston made the same response. Axel’s knowledge of Egyptian beliefs, which had been based on this even earlier religion, enabled him to guess that Menes was playing the part of the Forty-Two Assessors of the Dead, each of which would ask the departed soul if it had been guilty of some particular sin when it reached the ‘other world’; and Ciston was taking the doctor’s place by replying to each interrogation: “I am innocent.” Then there was another litany, more dirges and further anointing of the body.

  Sally, Camilla and Vladimir found it an incredibly wearisome business, so also did the McKay, and only a sense of respect held him rigid through the two and a half hours of what he considered senseless mummery. Axel’s interest alone was held by following this ritual which had been practised when the world was young.

  At last it was over. Menes made a sign and the Atlanteans suddenly changed their tone, bursting into a paeon of praise and glory as though the very gates of heaven were opening before their eyes.

  Nahou, Quet, Peramon, and Karnoum lifted the four corners of the bier and followed Menes through a door at the back of the temple. Semiramis led the w
omen after them, Tzarinska, Laötzii, Rahossis, and Lulluma, each carrying one of the four canopic jars. The others came in a little bunch behind.

  They all descended a broad flight of stairs to the crypt, a great apartment, far exceeding the temple above in size. In height it was at least twenty feet and in breadth fifty. Its ends could not be seen, but were hidden in a sepulchral gloom as they ran towards the extremities of the island underground. Along the walls were ranged tier upon tier of great gilded sarcophagi, containing the mummies of all the generations of Atlantis which had survived the Flood.

  Sally made a rough calculation—if a child had been born every twelve years there must be over nine hundred of them buried there—then, for the first time, she saw the Doctor’s face.

  His head had been shaven and the injury to his temple repaired so skilfully that under a gloss of wax it no longer showed. His features held a tranquillity and dignity which they had never displayed in life. Axel knew that every scrap of brain and mucus had been removed from the dead man’s skull down the nostrils with delicate hooked implements, yet no trace remained to suggest that this skilful operation had been performed.

  The bier was set down in the centre of the deep crypt below the altar, then they silently filed up the stairs. One by one the Atlanteans took their places on the twelve thrones which lined the choir until only Nahou was left standing. He made a gesture towards the temple door and said: “The service is over and we are about to take Council with the Gods.”

  The five friends passed out into the Atlantean night and Nahou closed the golden door with a clang behind them.

  “Phew!” exclaimed the McKay. “Thank the Lord that’s over—I thought it would never end.”

  “Just on three hours,” said Axel as he walked down the temple steps beside him. “Anyhow they seem more normal now and much more cheerful.”

  Sally nodded. “I can’t think they’ll do anything really serious to Nicky, and the awful thing he’s done will be a most terrible lesson to him. He will probably become a model of all the virtues in consequence, then after a time things will settle down again.”