Two Thousand Miles Below

by Charles Willard Diffin

  CHAPTER XXIV

  _The Bargain_

  Rawson had taken one flame-thrower with him. He tied it securelyinside the shell so it could not shift with the changing gravity, orbe accidentally turned on. Again he clung to the curved bar againstthe wall. Loah stood at the center, directing the craft.

  Once again he floated in air, then found himself standing on what hadbeen the ceiling of the room. The girl had released a considerablequantity of the lifting element in the _jana's_ end, and now the blackpowder in the other end of the central tube was dragging them atterrific speed as it rushed away from the earth's center.

  Over six hundred miles, Rawson had figured, from that inner surface tothe neutral zone where the red substance of the earth, that wasneither rock nor metal, under terrific pressures, glowed with ferventheat or formed pools like the Lake of Fire.

  Perhaps a hundred miles thick, that zone of incessant energy, andtheir little craft tore through it at tremendous speed. Even so, hewas gasping for breath in the heated room when the glow faded andagain he swung over and down upon the floor as Loah checked the speedof the flying projectile and the little ship crept slowly up into theroom where first he had seen it.

  The first that he noticed was the absence of the roar. The _jana_drifted slowly to one side, and Loah let it come to rest upon thefloor. Staring from the open door, Rawson saw the same familiar redwalls and floor and the black opening of the shaft from which they hadcome. But the reverberating roar of the great organ-pipe was gone. Heknew that the air, for the greater part, was driving on past throughthe upper shaft that was now open. The way was clear for them toascend. He turned to the girl.

  * * * * *

  "If my figures are right, it's some thirteen hundred miles from hereon. How did you get up there before?"

  Loah pointed to the passage where the _jana_, on that other excursion,had been hidden. "We went through there," she said, "taking the _jana_with us. We went up many miles through a great crack, but it was notstraight; we had to go carefully till another passage opened throughto the shaft far above where it was sealed."

  "And the mole-men never found it?"

  "Oh, yes," said Loah, "they must have known of the crack, but they didnot know where it led. Its air was bad--a gas that choked; one couldnot breathe it and live. But in our little _jana_ we were safe. Theycould not use theirs; it was too large. Besides, only the priests camedown. They had their Lake of Fire, where they did horrible things.They did not know that the shaft began again below."

  "O. K.," said Rawson, and closed the door.

  "But I wish to get out," Loah protested, "to gather more of the Oro.We may need more, should we return."

  "We will never need it," Rawson spoke softly. "From the time we leftGor we had just twenty-four hours to live. We must go on, and gofast."

  * * * * *

  They had no way of measuring time, and Rawson could only guess at thehours that passed while their little ship tore swiftly upward throughthe dark. He wondered if the occasional shrill shriek that followedthe touching of their metal guides on the glassy walls could be heardup above.

  Then, at last, Loah was driving the _jana_ slowly while she held herlight so it would shine through a window. Rawson had to restrainhimself to keep from pacing the little room like a caged animal whilethe precious minutes slipped by. Now that the enemy was near he wantednothing but to drive on up to the end of the shaft, come out into thatworld wherever the shaft ended, then try to fight his way through tothe great hall where he hoped to find Phee-e-al. And his haste madehim overestimate the passing time; their journey had been swifter thanhe knew.

  "I may have passed it," Loah was saying doubtfully. "I may have cometoo far." Then she interrupted herself and sprang to the controls.

  They drifted slowly back. "It is different now," Loah said; "the airrises more swiftly than before." She stared from the windows while shedrove the _jana_ slowly up and down, trying to bring it to equilibriumin the strong up-draft.

  The air entered the shell through a little opening with the samepungent tang Rawson had noticed before. He had wondered about the air.Down near the neutral zone it was dense, yet he had not minded thepressure too greatly--and that had been puzzling.

  "Rock pressure and air pressure," he had reasoned; "they are twodifferent things. If the rock flowed, any air that it trapped would besqueezed to a liquid. But it doesn't flow--that red stuff is solid; sothe air pressure is only the weight of the air column itself. But eventhat should be enormous."

  He could only conclude that the lessened pressure came from thatstrange counter-gravitation, the repelling force from the center ofthe earth. Perhaps it tended to dissipate the molecules, held themfarther apart, prevented their squeezing in together, and batteringwith a thousand little impacts on a point where one had hit before.

  Their _jana_ swayed gently as if the smooth air currents weredisturbed and were drifting them sideways; and then, at last, Loah,peering from a window, sprang back and moved a lever. Beneath them wasthe softly-cushioned thud of the shell seating itself on firm rock.

  * * * * *

  They were in another of the interminable caves, Rawson found when heopened the door. The _jana_ was resting a few feet in from the edge ofthe shaft. Cautiously they got out, but even without their weight ithad a slight negative buoyancy.

  "Oro is pulling more strongly than Grah," Dean said, and smiled.Already the names seemed familiar to him.

  The two lifted the _jana_ and carried it back some twenty feet morebefore Rawson realized how unnecessary this was.

  "We'll never be using it again," he said. "If I've guessed right itwill stay here as long as the rocks; if not--but we'll never know thedifference anyway."

  He took the flame-thrower from the car in sudden haste. "Quick,dear," he told Loah. "God knows when the end will come. Quick, show methe way."

  Loah knew every step of the route that took them on and upward througha maze of twisting passages, and Rawson marveled at her sense ofdirection. She flashed her light at times--the little bar of metalthat had in one hollow end a substance which absorbed the light-energyof the Central Sun. Rawson knew how it worked. Even the lights in themountain room were taken out from time to time and exposed to thesunlight that brought them back into glowing life. He had seen similarphenomena on earth. But, for the most part, Loah kept the little metalcap in place on the end of her torch, and they moved cautiouslythrough the dark.

  * * * * *

  Sounds of the Red Ones came to them at times. And once they hid in anarrow branching cleft that came abruptly to a dead end, while a forceof red warriors marched hurriedly through the passage they had justleft. Back in their hiding place Rawson stood tense and ready, withhis weapon till the last of the enemy was gone.

  Always he was frantic at thought of the time that was slippingpast--until, at last, the narrow passage that they followed cuttransversely through another large runway that glowed faintly fromsome distant light.

  With that first gleam of light there came over Dean Rawson an oddchange. Something within him had been cold with fear. Fear of theflying minutes. Fear that Loah might have lost her way in this tangledlabyrinth of winding ways. And now, suddenly, he was care-free, filledwith an absurd joy. Nothing mattered. They were to die, but what ofthat? Loah had chosen death; he would see that when it came to her,it would be quickly and without pain. And as for himself, if before hedied he could remove this ruler of an enemy race....

  So when Loah leaned close and whispered, "The light--it shines fromthe council room of Phee-e-al," Dean replied almost gaily; "I've gotto hand it to you--you sure do know all the back alleys." Then hestuck his head cautiously out into the dimly-lighted corridor.

  It was broad. He saw where their own little passageway went on fromthe opposite side. But the light--the light! At his left, not ahundred steps away, was a room, brilliantly lighted. And across it, ingleami
ng splendor, stretched a low wall--a barrier of gold. It was thecouncil room, where once before he had faced Phee-e-al in all thatsavage's hideous splendor.

  * * * * *

  He listened. All was silent. Then Loah whispered: "Phee-e-al comesthis way when he goes to the council room. But when he comes, or howoften, I do not know."

  Dean pressed her back into the narrow way with his hands. "Wait here!"he said, and gave her the flame-thrower. "I've an idea!" He steppedsoftly out into the broad passage and on naked, noiseless feet, movedswiftly toward the lighted room.

  It was empty. Beyond the barrier were no red figures, nor were therewhistling voices to echo as he had heard them before. Here was thethrone where Phee-e-al had sat; here the priests had stood; there,along the wall, were the chests.

  Fully twenty of them, each eight feet long, they stood ranged alongthe three walls of that part of the room protected by the barrier. Notwo of them alike; all of them were oddly carved and studded withjewels.

  The chests were ranged in a straight row a foot or more out from thewall. He crossed to them swiftly. About here was where that priestmust have gone. He raised one of the heavy lids till the light struckwithin.

  Bones! Only fragments of a skeleton, blackened by age; a necklace ofteeth from some animal's jaw; worthless trifles for the mummery of thepriests. Then, beneath them, he saw two great fangs, a foot in length.They were curved, sharply pointed and yellow as old ivory.

  What was it Gor had said of legends that told of ancestors coming fromthe outer world? Rawson knew that he was looking at priceless relicsof the tribe, at the tusks of man's long extinct enemy, the greatsabre-toothed tiger.

  * * * * *

  But he had neither time nor thoughts to spare for marvels new orold--he must find his gun. Yet, even then, he wondered whatundreamed-of treasures the other chests might hold--what jewels, whatparaphernalia of ancient kings.

  He must be silent! Perhaps the next great glittering container mighthold the blue gleam of his gun. And this time as the gem-studded lidwas swung upward and back to rest noiselessly against the rock wall,Dean could not repress the audible gasp that came to his lips.

  His own pistol! He had expected to find the one weapon, but, instead,the chest was filled with all it would hold of rifles and side armsand cartridge belts, all mingled in one indiscriminate heap.

  They were twisted, some of them, and bent; discolored, too, evidentlyby flames. On some the stocks had been burned off.

  Rawson's hands were suddenly trembling. There was one rifle thatseemed unharmed; he brought it out, and hardly heard the littleclatter that it made among the other weapons. An ammunition belt--heslipped out a clip of cartridges, made sure they fitted his gun, andthrew one up into the firing chamber. He was fumbling for more of theclips when there pierced through his tumultuous thoughts therealization that he was hearing sounds not made by his own suddenlyclumsy hands.

  * * * * *

  Marching feet, whistling voices--they came from beyond the room'sfarther end, beyond the entrance through which he had once beenbrought a captive. He took one step back toward the broad tunnel, thenknew there were others coming there.

  There was no possible avenue of escape. He threw himself in one wilddive into the narrow space between the chests and the wall, and pulledhimself forward under the shelter of the one back-turned lid. Therifle was still gripped in his hands.

  By the sounds that came to him, he knew that the outer room had filledwith red warriors, and that another smaller group had come scuffingfrom the passage where he had just entered. And, by the echoing cry ofshrill voices that shouted, "Phee-e-al! Phee-e-al!" he knew that theruler was near.

  Then there were footsteps approaching the chest. A priest no doubt;shrill whistling told of his anger. The concealing cover was jerkedoutward and down, and Rawson, staring above him, saw not the copperyface that he had expected, but the hideous white visage of Phee-e-alhimself.

  For an instant the ruler of the mole-men stood half stooped inpetrified astonishment, and in that moment Rawson dragged himself tohis feet. No chance to use the gun--the other was upon him, hisgripping talons tearing Rawson's bare flesh. In one flashing thought,Dean cursed himself for the uselessness of his weapon--he should havetaken a pistol, an automatic. Then, body to body with the savage, hewas dragged out over the chest.

  * * * * *

  He had been holding the rifle above him, as he struggled from hiscramped quarters. The savage had grabbed him about the shoulders, buthis hands were still free; they held the gun on high. And in thesecond when he found his feet under him, as Phee-e-al dragged himclear of the chest, Rawson brought the breech of the gun crashing downupon the pointed skull.

  He felt the talons release their hold. The priests were rushing uponhim. Phee-e-al, too, had been only momentarily stunned--he wasspringing. Then Rawson whipped the rifle down in line, and theclamoring shrieks that filled the room with tumult were drowned underanother roar.

  He saw Phee-e-al fall. Even then, through all the pandemonium withinhis own mind, he thrilled with satisfaction at sight of a little dotand a spreading stain above Phee-e-al's heart, where only bare skinhad been before.

  The next shot took the foremost of the priests. The others paused,hesitant for a moment, ranged out in an irregular line. Past them,beyond the golden barrier, Rawson caught a confused glimpse of a seaof red faces. Green flames were stabbing upward from their readyweapons. The priests were between him and them, and there came toRawson in that instant, through all the chaos of fighting andhalf-formed plans, the knowledge that these priests were a livingbarrier that held off the flames.

  He fired once more to check them, then sprang for the wide entranceof the tunnel. He fired again back of him, shooting wildly as he ran,then saw Loah as she came from her hiding place with the flame-throwerready in her hand.

  "Quick!" he gasped. "Get back!" Then, with her, he was runningstumblingly through the dark.

  * * * * *

  There could be no escape; even while they fled he knew it. And yetthey almost made it--though the end, when it came, was one thatneither could possibly have foreseen.

  They were following a wide passage, one of the countless thoroughfaresof the Reds. It was deserted. Loah flashed her light freely. Ahead ofthem the passage turned. Just short of that bend was a rift in therocks.

  "There!" Loah gasped. "Turn there. It will take us back to the_jana_." But the words were followed by a flash of green from deadahead.

  The flames that made it came quickly after and a dozen of the redwarriors were before them, the light of their weapons slanting justabove Rawson's head. His rifle was half raised--they would at leastfight to the last. Then he realized that the green death was notswinging downward.

  From behind them, in the corridor through which they had raced, came achorus of whistling shouts. Rawson whirled to find more of the redfighters, and again, though their hissing green flames were heldready, they did not descend.

  A priest, copper-colored, shining resplendently in the weird glow,detached himself from the group and stepped forward under theprotection of their weapons. Loah's hand was depressing the muzzle ofRawson's rifle. "Wait!" she said. "He wishes to speak."

  * * * * *

  The priest stopped and addressed them. Loah answered; and to Rawson itseemed horrible that her lips and throat should be called upon to formthose whistling words. Then she turned toward him.

  "He says they will not harm you now if you surrender. Later, when theyselect a new ruler, he may order you set free."

  Rawson was doing some quick thinking. The priest was lying, clumsily,childishly, but it might be he could bargain with them.

  "Tell them this," he ordered Loah: "they are to let you go free--letyou go right now! If they do that, I'll lay down my gun. If theydon't, that priest will die before they get me. I don't t
hink you canmake it," he added, "but go back to the _jana_. Don't stop foranything. Drive it as fast as you can; you may still get there beforeGor does his stuff. And take the flame-thrower in case you arefollowed--" He stopped; Loah was laughing.

  "Did you really think, Dean-San, that I would desert you?" Again shelaughed softly--laughing squarely in the face of that waiting death, alaugh that was half a sob, that caught suddenly in her throat as shestared at Dean.

  He could not read the look in her eyes as their expression changed."Yes," she said slowly, "yes, you are right. If I stay we both die,quickly."

  Again her voice made whistling sounds; the priest replied. Then Loahthrew her arms around Dean and kissed him. He was gripping his rifle;before he could take her in his arms, she was gone. She walkedswiftly, the flame-thrower in her hands, toward the dark cleft in therocks, through which she disappeared. And Dean, though she had donewhat he really wished, felt that all of his life and strength hadgone with him with that fleeing figure.

  He placed his rifle on the floor and, straightening, held out hisempty hands; the priest's talons were upon his flesh.

  "But I got Phee-e-al, anyhow," he was thinking dully.