Voyage to Arcturus

by David Lindsay

  Corpang cried out and put his hand over his eyes. "What can this mean?" he asked a minute later.

  "It must mean that life is wrong, and the creator of life too, whether he is one person or three."

  Corpang looked again, like a man trying to accustom himself to a shocking sight. "Dare we believe this?"

  "You must," replied Maskull. "You have always served the highest, and you must continue to do so. It has simply turned out that Thire is not the highest."

  Corpang's face became swollen with a kind of coarse anger. "Life is clearly false - I have been seeking Thire for a lifetime, and now I find - this."

  "You have nothing to reproach yourself with. Crystalman has had eternity to practice his cunning in, so it's no wonder if a man can't see straight, even with the best intentions. What have you decided to do?"

  "The drumming seems to be moving away. Will you follow it, Maskull?"

  "Yes."

  "But where will it take us?"

  "Perhaps out of Threal altogether."

  "It sounds to me more real than reality," said Corpang. "Tell me, who is Surtur?"

  "Surtur's world, or Muspel, we are told, is the original of which this world is a distorted copy. Crystalman is life, but Surtur is other than life."

  "How do you know this?"

  "It has sprung together somehow - from inspiration, from experience, from conversation with the wise men of your planet. Every hour it grows truer for me and takes a more definite shape."

  Corpang stood up squarely, facing the three Figures with a harsh, energetic countenance, stamped all over with resolution. "I believe you, Maskull. No better proof is required than that. Thire is not the highest; he is even in a certain sense the lowest. Nothing but the thoroughly false and base could stoop to such deceits… I am coming with you - but don't play the traitor. These signs may be for you, and not for me at all, and if you leave me - "

  "I make no promises. I don't ask you to come with me. If you prefer to stay in your little world, or if you have any doubts about it, you had better not come."

  "Don't talk like that. I shall never forget your service to me… Let us make haste, or we shall lose the sound."

  Corpang started off more eagerly than Maskull. They walked fast in the direction of the drumming. For upward of two miles the path went along the ledge without any change of level. The mysterious radiance gradually departed, and was replaced by the normal light of Threal. The rhythmical beats continued, but a very long way ahead - neither was able to diminish the distance.

  "What kind of man are you?" Corpang suddenly broke out.

  "In what respect?"

  "How do you come to be on such terms with the Invisible? How is it that I've never had this experience before I met you, in spite of my never-ending prayers and mortifications? In what way are you superior to me?"

  "To hear voices perhaps can't be made a profession," replied Maskull. "I have a simple and unoccupied mind - that may be why I sometimes hear things that up to the present you have not been able to."

  Corpang darkened, and kept silent; and then Maskull saw through to his pride.

  The ledge presently began to rise. They were high above the platform on the opposite side of the gulf. The road then curved sharply to the right, and they passed over the abyss and the other ledge as by a bridge, coming out upon the top of the opposite cliffs. A new line of precipices immediately confronted them. They followed the drumming along the base of these heights, but as they were passing the mouth of a large cave the sound came from its recesses, and they turned their steps inward.

  "This leads to the outer world," remarked Corpang. "I've occasionally been there by this passage."

  "Then that's where it is taking us, no doubt. I confess I shan't be sorry to see sunlight once more."

  "Can you find time to think of sunlight?" asked Corpang with a rough smile.

  "I love the sun, and perhaps I'm rather lacking in the spirit of a zealot."

  "Yet, for all that, you may get there before me."

  "Don't be bitter," said Maskull. "I'll tell you another thing. Muspel can't be willed, for the simple reason that Muspel does not concern the will. To will is a property of this world."

  "Then what is your journey for?"

  "It's one thing to walk to a destination, and to linger over the walk, and quite another to run there at top speed."

  "Perhaps I'm not so easily deceived as you think," said Corpang with another smile.

  The light persisted in the cave. The path narrowed and became a steep ascent. Then the angle became one of forty-five degrees, and they had to climb. The tunnel grew so confined that Maskull was reminded of the confined dreams of his childhood.

  Not long afterward, daylight appeared. They hastened to complete the last stage. Maskull rushed out first into the world of colours and, all dirty and bleeding from numerous scratches, stood blinking on a hillside, bathed in the brilliant late-afternoon sunshine. Corpang followed closely at his heels, He was obliged to shield his eyes with his hands for a few minutes, so unaccustomed was he to Branchspell's blinding rays.

  "The drum beats have stopped!" he exclaimed suddenly.

  "You can't expect music all the time," answered Maskull dryly. "We mustn't be luxurious."

  "But now we have no guide. We're no better off than before."

  "Well, Tormance is a big place. But I have an infallible rule, Corpang. As I come from the south, I always go due north."

  "That will take us to Lichstorm."

  Maskull gazed at the fantastically piled rocks all around them. "I saw these rocks from Matterplay. The mountains look as far off now as they did them, and there's not much of the day left. How far is Lichstorm from here?"

  Corpang looked away to the distant range. "I don't know, but unless a miracle happens we shan't get there tonight."

  "I have a feeling," said Maskull, "that we shall not only get there tonight, but that tonight will be the most important in my life."

  And he sat down passively to rest.

  Chapter 18

  HAUNTE

  While Maskull sat, Corpang walked restlessly to and fro, swinging his arms. He had lost his staff. His face was inflamed with suppressed impatience, which accentuated its natural coarseness. At last he stopped short in front of Maskull and looked down at him. "What do you intend to do?"

  Maskull glanced up and idly waved his hand toward the distant mountains. "Since we can't walk, we must wait."

  "For what?"

  "I don't know… How's this, though? Those peaks have changed colour, from red to green."

  "Yes, the lich wind is travelling this way."

  "The lich wind?"

  "It's the atmosphere of Lichstorm. It always clings to the mountains, but when the wind blows from the north it comes as far as Threal."

  "It's a sort of fog, then?"

  "A peculiar sort, for they say it excites the sexual passions."

  "So we are to have lovemaking," said Maskull, laughing.

  "Perhaps you won't find it so joyous," replied Corpang a little grimly.

  "But tell me - these peaks, how do they preserve their balance?"

  Corpang gazed at the distant, overhanging summits, which were fast fading into obscurity.

  "Passion keeps them from falling."

  Maskull laughed again; he was feeling a strange disturbance of spirit. "What, the love of rock for rock?"

  "It is comical, but true."

  "We'll take a closer peep at them presently. Beyond the mountains is Barey, is it not?"

  "Yes."

  "And then the Ocean. But what is the name of that Ocean?"

  "That is told only to those who die beside it."

  "Is the secret so precious, Corpang?"

  Branchspell was nearing the horizon in the west; there were more than two hours of daylight remaining. The air all around them became murky. It was a thin mist, neither damp nor cold. The Lichstorm Range now appeared only as a blur on the sky. The air was electric and tingling,
and was exciting in its effect. Maskull felt a sort of emotional inflammation, as though a very slight external cause would serve to overturn his self-control. Corpang stood silent with a mouth like iron.

  Maskull kept looking toward a high pile of rocks in the vicinity.

  "That seems to me a good watchtower. Perhaps we shall see something from the top."

  Without waiting for his companion's opinion, he began to scramble up the tower, and in a few minutes was standing on the summit. Corpang joined him.

  From their viewpoint they saw the whole countryside sloping down to the sea, which appeared as a mere flash of far-off, glittering water. Leaving all that, however, Maskull's eyes immediately fastened themselves on a small, boat-shaped object, about two miles away, which was travelling rapidly toward them, suspended only a few feet in the air.

  "What do you make of that?" he asked in a tone of astonishment.

  Corpang shook his head and said nothing.

  Within two minutes the flying object, whatever it was, had diminished the distance between them by one half. It resembled a boat more and more, but its flight was erratic, rather than smooth; its nose was continually jerking upward and downward, and from side to side. Maskull now made out a man sitting in the stern, and what looked like a large dead animal lying amidships. As the aerial craft drew nearer, he observed a thick, blue haze underneath it, and a similar haze behind, but the front, facing them, was clear.

  "Here must be what we are waiting for, Corpang. But what on earth carries it?"

  He stroked his beard contemplatively, and then, fearing that they had not been seen, stepped onto the highest rock, bellowed loudly, and made wild motions with his arm. The flying-boat, which was only a few hundred yards distant, slightly altered its course, now heading toward them in a way that left no doubt that the steersman had detected their presence.

  The boat slackened speed until it was travelling no faster than a walking man, but the irregularity of its movements continued. It was shaped rather queerly. About twenty feet long, its straight sides tapered off from a flat bow, four feet broad, to a sharp-angled stern. The flat bottom was not above ten feet from the ground. It was undecked, and carried only one living occupant; the other object they had distinguished was really the carcass of an animal, of about the size of a large sheep. The blue haze trailing behind the boat appeared to emanate from the glittering point of a short upright pole fastened in the stem. When the craft was within a few feet of them, and they were looking down at it in wonder from above, the man removed this pole and covered the brightly shining tip with a cap. The forward motion then ceased altogether, and the boat began to drift hither and thither, but still it remained suspended in the air, while the haze underneath persisted. Finally the broad side came gently up against the pile of rocks on which they were standing. The steersman jumped ashore and immediately clambered up to meet them.

  Maskull offered him a hand, but he refused it disdainfully. He was a young man, of middle height. He wore a close-fitting fur garment. His limbs were quite ordinary, but his trunk was disproportionately long, and he had the biggest and deepest chest that Maskull had ever seen in a man. His hairless face was sharp, pointed, and ugly, with protruding teeth, and a spiteful, grinning expression. His eyes and brows sloped upward. On his forehead was an organ which looked as though it had been mutilated - it was a mere disagreeable stump of flesh. His hair was short and thin. Maskull could not name the colour of his skin, but it seemed to stand in the same relation to jale as green to red.

  Once up, the stranger stood for a minute or two, scrutinising the two companions through half-closed lids, all the time smiling insolently. Maskull was all eagerness to exchange words, but did not care to be the first to speak. Corpang stood moodily, a little in the background.

  "What men are you?" demanded the aerial navigator at last. His voice was extremely loud, and possessed a most unpleasant timbre. It sounded to Maskull like a large volume of air trying to force its way through a narrow orifice.

  "I am Maskull; my friend is Corpang. He comes from Threal, but where I come from, don't ask."

  "I am Haunte, from Sarclash."

  "Where may that be?"

  "Half an hour ago I could have shown it to you, but now it has got too murky. It is a mountain in Lichstorm."

  "Are you returning there now?"

  "Yes."

  "And how long will it take to get there in that boat?"

  "Two - three hours."

  "Will it accommodate us too?"

  "What, are you for Lichstorm as well? What can you want there?"

  "To see the sights," responded Maskull with twinkling eyes. "But first of all, to dine. I can't remember having eaten all day. You seem to have been hunting to some purpose, so we won't lack for food."

  Haunte eyed him quizzically. "You certainly don't lack impudence. However, I'm a man of that sort myself, and it is the sort I prefer. Your friend, now, would probably rather starve than ask a meal of a stranger. He looks to me just like a bewildered toad dragged up out of a dark hole."

  Maskull took Corpang's arm, and constrained him to silence.

  "Where have you been hunting, Haunte?"

  "Matterplay. I had the worst luck - I speared one wold horse, and there it lies."

  "What is Lichstorm like?"

  "There are men there, and there are women there, but there are no men-women, as with you."

  "What do you call men-women?"

  "Persons of mixed sex, like yourself. In Lichstorm the sexes are pure."

  "I have always regarded myself as a man."

  "Very likely you have; but the test is, do you hate and fear women?"

  "Why, do you?"

  Haunte grinned and showed his teeth. "Things are different in Lichstorm… So you want to see the sights?"

  "I confess I am curious to see your women, for example, after what you say."

  "Then I'll introduce you to Sullenbode."

  He paused a moment after making this remark, and then suddenly uttered a great, bass laugh, so that his chest shook.

  "Let us share the joke," said Maskull.

  "Oh, you'll understand it later."

  "If you play pranks with me, I won't stand on ceremony with you."

  Haunte laughed again. "I won't be the one to play pranks. Sullenbode will be deeply obliged to me. If I don't visit her myself as often as she would like, I'm always glad to serve her in other ways… Well, you shall have your boat ride."

  Maskull rubbed his nose doubtfully. "If the sexes hate one another in your land, is it because passion is weaker, or stronger?"

  "In other parts of the world there is soft passion, but in Lichstorm there is hard passion."

  "But what do you call hard passion?"

  "Where men are called to women by pain, and not pleasure."

  "I intend to understand, before I've finished."

  "Yes," answered Haunte, with a taunting look, "it would be a pity to let the chance slip, since you're going to Lichstorm."

  It was now Corpang's turn to take Maskull by the arm. "This journey will end badly."

  "Why so?"

  "Your goal was Muspel a short while ago; now it is women."

  "Let me alone," said Maskull. "Give luck a slack rein. What brought this boat here?"

  "What is this talk about Muspel?" demanded Haunte.

  Corpang caught his shoulder roughly, and stared straight into his eyes. "What do you know?"

  "Not much, but something, perhaps. Ask me at supper. Now it is high time to start. Navigating the mountains by night isn't child's play, let me tell you."

  "I shall not forget," said Corpang.

  Maskull gazed down at the boat. "Are we to get in?"

  "Gently, my friend. It's only canework and skin."

  "First of all, you might enlighten me as to how you have contrived to dispense with the laws of gravitation."

  Haunte smiled sarcastically. "A secret in your ear, Maskull. All laws are female. A true male is an outlaw - outsid
e the law."

  "I don't understand."

  "The great body of the earth is continually giving out female particles, and the male parts of rocks and living bodies are equally continually trying to reach them. That's gravitation."

  "Then how do you manage with your boat?"

  "My two male stones do the work. The one underneath the boat prevents it from falling to the ground; the one in the stem shuts it off from solid objects in the rear. The only part of the boat attracted by any part of the earth is the bow, for that's the only part the light of the male stones does not fall on. So in that direction the boat travels."

  "And what are these wondrous male stones?"

  "They really are male stones. There is nothing female in them; they are showering out male sparks all the time. These sparks devour all the female particles rising from the earth. No female particles are left over to attract the male parts of the boat, and so they are not in the least attracted in that direction."

  Maskull ruminated for a minute.

  "With your hunting, and boatbuilding, and science, you seem a very handy, skilful fellow, Haunte… But the sun's sinking, and we'd better start."

  "Get down first, then, and shift that carcass farther forward. Then you and your gloomy friend can sit amidships."

  Maskull immediately climbed down, and dropped himself into the boat; but then he received a surprise. The moment he stood on the frail bottom, still clinging to the rock, not only did his weight entirely disappear, as though he were floating in some heavy medium, like salt water, but the rock he held onto drew him, as by a mild current of electricity, and he was able to withdraw his hands only with difficulty.

  After the first moment's shock, he quietly accepted the new order of things, and set about shifting the carcass. Since there was no weight in the boat this was effected without any great labour. Corpang then descended. The astonishing physical change had no power to disturb his settled composure, which was founded on moral ideas. Haunte came last; grasping the staff which held the upper male stone, he proceeded to erect it, after removing the cap. Maskull then obtained his first near view of the mysterious light, which, by counteracting the forces of Nature, acted indirectly not only as elevator but as motive force. In the last ruddy gleams of the great sun, its rays were obscured, and it looked little more impressive than an extremely brilliant, scintillating blue-white jewel, but its power could be gauged by the visible, coloured mist that it threw out for many yards around.