The Golden Age of Science Fiction Novels Vol 03

by Anthology

  He freed his arm quickly, and, regardless of the clawing thing that tore at his face and eyes, he launched one long swing for the horrible face above him. He saw the awkward fall of a lean body, and he swayed helplessly out to follow when the grip of Sykes' hand pulled him back and up to momentary safety.

  McGuire's mind held only the desire to kill, and he would have begun a staggering rush toward the shrieking mob that broke from the cover behind them, had not Sykes held him fast. At sight of the weapon, their own gas projector, still clutched in the flyer's hand, the pursuers halted. Their long arms pointed and their shrill calls joined in a chorus that quavered and fell uncertainly.

  * * * * *

  One, braver than the rest, dashed forward and discharged his weapon. The spurting gas failed to reach its intended victims; it blew gently back toward the others who fled quickly to either side. Above the trees a giant ship nosed swiftly down, and McGuire pointed to it grimly and in silence. The men before them were massed now for a rush.

  "This is the end," said the flyer softly. "I wonder how this devilish thing works; there's a trigger here. I will give them a shot with the wind helping, then we'll jump for it."

  The ship was above them as the slim figure of Lieutenant McGuire threw itself a score of paces toward the waiting group. From the metal tube there shot a stream of pale vapor that swept downward upon the others who ran in panic from its touch.

  Then back--and a grip of a hand!--and two Earth-men who threw themselves out and downward from a sheer rock wall to the cool embrace of deep water.

  They came to the top, battered from their fall, but able to dive under a wave and emerge again near one another.

  "Swim!" urged Sykes. "Swim out! They may get us here--recover our bodies--resuscitate us. And that wouldn't do!"

  Another wave, and the two men were swimming beyond it; swimming feebly but steadily out from shore, while above them a great cylinder of shining metal swept past in a circling flight. They kept on while their eyes, from the wave tops, saw it turn and come slowly back in a long smooth descent.

  It was a hundred feet above the water a short way out at sea, and the two men made feeble motions with arms and legs, while their eyes exchanged glances of dismay.

  * * * * *

  A door had opened in the round under-surface, and a figure, whose gas-suit made it a bloated caricature of a man, was lowered from beneath in a sling. From the stern of the ship gaseous vapor belched downward to spread upon the surface of the water. The wind was bringing the misty cloud toward them. "The gas!" said McGuire despairingly. "It will knock us out, and then that devil will get us! They'll take us back! Our last chance--gone!"

  "God help us!" said Sykes weakly. "We can't--even--die--" His feeble strokes stopped, and he sank beneath the water. McGuire's last picture as he too sank and the waters closed over his head, was the shining ship hovering beyond.

  He wondered only vaguely at the sudden whirling of water around him. A solid something was rising beneath his dragging feet; a firm, solid support that raised him again to the surface. He realized dimly the air about him, the sodden form of Professor Sykes some few feet distant. His numbed brain was trying to comprehend what else the eyes beheld.

  A metal surface beneath them rose higher, shining wet, above the water; a metal tube raised suddenly from its shield, to swing in quick aim upon the enemy ship approaching from above.

  His eyes moved to the ship, and to the man-thing below in the sling. Its clothes were a mass of flame, and the figure itself was falling headlong through the air. Above the blazing body was the metal of the ship itself, and it sagged and melted to a liquid fire that poured, splashing and hissing, to the waters beneath. In the wild panic the great shape threw itself into the air; it swept out and up in curving flight to plunge headlong into the depths....

  The gas was drifting close, as McGuire saw an opening in the structure beside him. The voice of a man, human, kindly, befriending, said something of "hurry" and "gas," and "lift them carefully but make haste." The white faces of men were blurred and indistinct as McGuire felt himself lowered into a cool room and laid, with the unconscious form of Sykes, upon a floor.

  He tried to remember. He had gone down in the water--Sykes had drowned, and he himself--he was tired--tired. "And this,"--the thought seemed a certainty in his mind--"this is death. How--very--peculiar--" He was trying to twist his lips to a weak laugh as the lighted ports in the wall beside him changed from gold to green, then black--and a rushing of torn waters was in his ears....

  CHAPTER XIII

  Lieutenant McGuire had tried to die. He and Professor Sykes had welcomed death with open arms, and death had been thwarted by their enemies who wanted them alive--wanted to draw their knowledge from them as a vampire bat might seek to feast. And, when even death was denied them, help had come.

  The enemy ship had gone crashing to destruction where its melting metal made hissing clouds of steam as it buried itself in the ocean. And this craft that had saved them--Lieutenant McGuire had never been on a submarine, but he knew it could be only that that held him now and carried him somewhere at tremendous speed.

  This was miracle enough! But to see, with eyes which could not be deceiving him, a vision of men, human, white of face--men like himself--bending and working over Sykes' unconscious body--that could not be immediately grasped.

  Their faces, unlike the bleached-blood horrors he had seen, were aglow with the flush of health. They were tall, slenderly built, graceful in their quick motions as they worked to revive the unconscious man. One stopped, as he passed, to lay a cool hand on McGuire's forehead, and the eyes that looked down seemed filled with the blessed quality of kindness.

  They were human--his own kind!--and McGuire was unable to take in at first the full wonder of it.

  Did the tall man speak? His lips did not move, yet McGuire heard the words as in some inner ear.

  "We were awaiting you, friend Mack Guire." The voice was musical, thrilling, and yet the listening man could not have sworn that he heard a voice at all. It was as if a thought were placed within his mind by the one beside him.

  The one who had paused hurried on to aid the others, and McGuire let his gaze wander.

  * * * * *

  The porthole beside him showed dimly a pale green light; they were submerged, and the hissing rush of water told him that they were travelling fast. There was a door in the farther wall; beyond was a room of gleaming lights that reflected from myriads of shining levers and dials. A control room. A figure moved as McGuire watched, to press on a lever where a red light was steadily increasing in brightness. He consulted strange instruments before him, touched a metal button here and there, then opened a switch, and the rippling hiss of waters outside their craft softened to a gentler note.

  The tall one was beside him again.

  "Your friend will live," he told him in that wordless tongue, "and we are almost arrived. The invisible arms of our anchorage have us now and will draw us safely to rest."

  The kindly tone was music in McGuire's ears, and he smiled in reply. "Friends!" he thought. "We are among friends."

  "You are most welcome," the other assured him, "and, yes, you are truly among friends." But the lieutenant glanced upward in wonder, for he knew that he had uttered no spoken word.

  Their ship turned and changed its course beneath them, then came finally to rest with a slight rocking motion as if cushioned on powerful springs. Sykes was being assisted to his feet as the tall man reached for McGuire's hand and helped him to rise.

  The two men of Earth stood for a long minute while they stared unbelievingly into each other's eyes. Their wonder and amazement found no words for expression but must have been apparent to the one beside them.

  "You will understand," he told them. "Do not question this reality even to yourselves. You are safe!... Come." And he led the way through an opening doorway to a wet deck outside. Beyond this was a wharf of carved stone, and the men followed where steps were inset to allow
them to ascend.

  Again McGuire could not know if he heard a tumult of sound or sensed it in some deeper way. The air about them was aglow with soft light, and it echoed in his ears with music unmistakably real--beautiful music!--exhilarating! But the clamor of welcoming voices, like the words from their tall companion, came soundlessly to him.

  * * * * *

  There were people, throngs of them, waiting. Tall like the others, garbed, like those horrible beings of a past that seemed distant and remote, in loose garments of radiant colors. And everywhere were welcoming smiles and warm and friendly glances.

  McGuire let his dazed eyes roam around to find the sculptured walls of a huge room like a tremendous cave. The soft glow of light was everywhere, and it brought out the beauty of flowing lines and delicate colors in statuary and bas-relief that adorned the walls. Behind him the water made a dark pool, and from it projected the upper works of their strange craft.

  His eyes were hungry for these new sights, but he turned with Sykes to follow their guide through the colorful crowd that parted to let them through. They passed under a carved archway and found themselves in another and greater room.

  But was it a room? McGuire marveled at its tremendous size. His eyes took in the smooth green of a grassy lawn, the flowers and plants, and then they followed where the hand of Sykes was pointing. The astronomer gripped McGuire's arm in a numbing clutch; his other hand was raised above.

  "The stars," he said. "The clouds are gone; it is night!"

  And where he pointed was a vault of black velvet. Deep hues of blue seemed blended with it, and far in its depths were the old familiar star-groups of the skies. "Ah!" the scientist breathed, "the beautiful, friendly stars!"

  Their guide waited; then, "Come," he urged gently, and led them toward a lake whose unruffled glassy surface mirrored the stars above. Beside it a man was waiting to receive them.

  McGuire had to force his eyes away from the unreal beauty of opal walls like the fairy structures they had seen. There was color everywhere that blended and fused to make glorious harmony that was pure joy to the eyes.

  * * * * *

  The man who waited was young. He stood erect, his face like that of a Grecian statue, and his robe was blazing with the flash of jewels. Beside him was a girl, tall and slender, and sweetly serious of face. Like the man, her garments were lovely with jeweled iridescence, and now McGuire saw that the throng within the vast space was similarly apparelled.

  The tall man raised his hand.

  "Welcome!" he said, and McGuire realized with a start that the words were spoken aloud. "You are most welcome, my friends, among the people of that world you call Venus."

  Professor Sykes was still weak from his ordeal; he wavered perceptibly where he stood, and the man before them them turned to give an order. There were chairs that came like magic; bright robes covered them; and the men were seated while the man and girl also took seats beside them as those who prepare for an intimate talk with friends.

  Lieutenant McGuire found his voice at last. "Who are you?" he asked in wondering tones. "What does it mean? We were lost--and you saved us. But you--you are not like the others." And he repeated, "What does it mean?"

  "No," said the other with a slight smile, "we truly are not like those others. They are not men such as you and I. They are something less than human: animals--vermin!--from whom God, in His wisdom, has seen fit to withhold the virtues that raise men higher than the beasts."

  His face hardened as he spoke and for a moment the eyes were stern, but he smiled again as he continued.

  "And we," he said, "you ask who we are. We are the people of Venus. I am Djorn, ruler, in name, of all. 'In name' I say, for we rule here by common reason; I am only selected to serve. And this is my sister, Althora. The name, with us, means 'radiant light.'" He turned to exchange smiles with the girl at his side. "We think her well named," he said.

  "The others,"--he waved toward the throng that clustered about--"you will learn to know in time."

  * * * * *

  Professor Sykes felt the need of introductions.

  "This is Lieutenant--" he began, but the other interrupted with an upraised hand.

  "Mack Guire," he supplied; "and you are Professor Sykes.... Oh, we know you!" he laughed; "we have been watching you since your arrival; we have been waiting to help you."

  The professor was open-mouthed.

  "Your thoughts," explained the other, "are as a printed page. We have been with you by mental contact at all times. We could hear, but, at that distance, and--pardon me!--with your limited receptivity, we could not communicate.

  "Do not resent our intrusion," he added; "we listened only for our own good, and we shall show you how to insulate your thoughts. We do not pry."

  Lieutenant McGuire waved all that aside. "You saved us from them," he said; "that's the answer. But--what does it mean? Those others are in control; they are attacking our Earth, the world where we lived. Why do you permit--?"

  Again the other's face was set in sterner lines.

  "Yes," he said, and his voice was full of unspoken regret, "they do rule this world; they _have_ attacked your Earth; they intend much more, and I fear they must be successful. Listen. Your wonderment is natural, and I shall explain.

  "We are the people of Venus. Some centuries ago we ruled this world. Now you find us a handful only, living like moles in this underworld."

  "Underworld?" protested Professor Sykes. He pointed above to the familiar constellations. "Where are the clouds?" he asked.

  The girl, Althora, leaned forward now. "It will please my brother," she said in a soft voice, "that you thought it real. He has had pleasure in creating that--a replica of the skies we used to know before the coming of the clouds."

  * * * * *

  Professor Sykes was bewildered. "That sky--the stars--they are not real?" he asked incredulously. "But the grass--the flowers--"

  Her laugh rippled like music. "Oh, they are real," she told him, and her brother gave added explanation.

  "The lights," he said: "we supply the actinic rays that the clouds cut off above. We have sunlight here, made by our own hands; that is why we are as we are and not like the red ones with their bleached skins. We had our lights everywhere through the world when we lived above, but those red beasts are ignorant; they do not know how to operate them; they do not know that they live in darkness even in the light."

  "Then we are below ground?" asked the flyer. "You live here?"

  "It is all we have now. At that time of which I tell, it was the red ones who lived out of sight; they were a race of rodents in human form. They lived in the subterranean caves with which this planet is pierced. We could have exterminated them at any time, but, in our ignorance, we permitted them to live, for we, of Venus--I use your name for the planet--do not willingly take life."

  "They have no such compunctions!" Professor Sykes' voice was harsh; he was remembering the sacrifice to the hungry plants.

  A flash as of pain crossed the sensitive features of the girl, and the man beside her seemed speaking to her in soundless words.

  "Your mind-picture was not pleasant," he told the scientist; then continued:

  "Remember, we were upon the world, and these others were within it. There came a comet. Oh, our astronomers plotted its course; they told us we were safe. But at the last some unknown influence diverted it; its gaseous projection swept our world with flame. Only an instant; but when it had passed there was left only death...."

  * * * * *

  He was lost in recollection for a time; the girl beside him reached over to touch his hand.

  "Those within--the red ones--escaped," he went on. "They poured forth when they found that catastrophe had overwhelmed us. And we, the handful that were left, were forced to take shelter here. We have lived here since, waiting for the day when the Master of Destinies shall give us freedom and a world in which to live."

  "You speak," suggested the scientist, "as if this had happened to
you. Surely you refer to your ancestors; you are the descendants of those who were saved."

  "We are the people," said the other. "We lived then; we live now; we shall live for a future of endless years.

  "Have you not searched for the means to control the life principle--you people of Earth?" he asked. "We have it here. You see"--and he waved a hand toward the standing throng--"we are young to your eyes and the others who greeted you were the same."

  McGuire and the scientist exchanged glances of corroboration.

  "But your age," asked Sykes, "measured in years?"

  "We hardly measure life in years."

  Professor Sykes nodded slowly; his mind found difficulty in accepting so astounding a fact. "But our language?" he queried. "How is it that you can speak our tongue?"

  The tall man smiled and leaned forward to place a hand on a knee of each of the men beside him. "Why not," he asked, "when there doubtless is relationship between us.

  "You called the continent Atlantis. Perhaps its very existence is but a fable now: it has been many centuries since we have had instruments to record thought force from Earth, and we have lost touch. But, my friends, even then we of Venus had conquered space, and it was we who visited Atlantis to find a race more nearly like ourselves than were the barbarians who held the other parts of Earth.

  "I was there, but I returned. There were some who stayed and they were lost with the others in the terrible cataclysm that sank a whole continent beneath the waters. But some, we have believed, escaped."

  "Why have you not been back?" the flyer asked. "You could have helped us so much."

  "It was then that our own destruction came upon us. The same comet, perhaps, may have caused a change of stresses in your Earth and sunk the lost Atlantis. Ah! That was a beautiful land, but we have never seen it since. We have been--here.