[Title here]

by Twin Worlds (epub)

  “It is a seaport city,” the professor remarked, remembering what Kamunioleten had told him, “a seaport on the ocean for which we were aimed, if my geography of Dlasitap serves me right.”

  From above the machine men, the dull, throbbing sound of mechanism reached them, yet on either side of the boat they saw the water disturbed by long sweeps which propelled the vessel forward, the latter suggestive of organic labor.

  The light waned, and darkness came early in the watery depths. All afternoon, they had seen the bottom of the sea sliding past beneath them, their only gauge of progress. Strange to say, the water had not grown shallower, though according to the thought transmissions received from the deck they were rapidly making port. It was evident on second consideration that the vessel was keeping to the deeper lanes of travel near the seacoast, and that their previous passage through the shallower waters had either been unavoidable or else was a mistake on the part of the pilot.

  Night fell, and when dawn followed, the waters commencing to grow murky with light, the three submerged stowaways found the sweeps at rest and the vessel slowly drifting. The mechanism still labored above but with a subdued note to its voice. For some time during the darkness, the machine men had been aware of an abatement in speed.

  While they considered the situation and sought to probe the minds of those above them, something shot overboard, ploughing the depths and followed by a streamer of tiny bubbles which fought their way back to the surface. In the growing light, they saw a great weight settle on the bottom, a weight to which was attached a long line.

  “We must be in the harbor of Onolekag,” said the professor, peering down at the smooth bottom below them. “We shall investigate. Stay here. 19K-59, while 6W-438 and I look for shore. If we become lost from the boat and do not find shore, guide us back. If we find shore, we shall call to you.”

  This precaution, though wise, was found to be scarcely necessary, for the two machine men wandered into shallower water along rough, rocky columns supporting the docks of Onolekag. They announced their discovery to 19K-59, who soon joined them. The three Zoromes quickly found their way out from under the dock and emerged from the water on a stony beach. From this place they had their first view of Dlasitap, of the surface of that world.

  In the early morning sunlight, they looked out upon the harbor of Onolekag where several boats lay at rest upon the water. Several Emites moved busily about the dock at this early hour, not yet having noticed the three machine men who had slipped quietly out of the water. The latter were at a loss to pick out the boat which had brought them, but the mystery of the sweeps and accompanying sound of mechanism was explained.

  The long oars were operated by a steam engine. A long drive shaft between decks worked back and forth, performing the movement of a long oval, lifting the sweeps out of the water on the under path of movement and pushing them against the water on the upper travel. One of the smaller boats just setting out from the dock gave demonstration of their smooth working efficiency.

  Suddenly their attention was distracted from the boats by a cry from the rear. An Emite had seen them and was calling the attention of all near and far to the strange sight the three Zoromes presented as they walked slowly to the dock. Some of the Emites ran in terror, adding to the general chattering din, while others advanced, half fearful yet curious. The machine men radiated their thoughts, attempting to placate the apprehensions of the Emites. This they did, partially, yet distrust and lingering suspicion prevailed.

  “Have you never seen or heard of anything like us?” the professor asked, indirectly seeking word of the spaceship.

  It was evident that sight of the machine men was something new for the Emites, nor had they ever heard of them.

  “We are from another world,” the professor told them.

  This information was immediately seized upon by the Emites and relayed into the reference to “thinking machines” from another world of their planetary system, a world other than Selimemigre.

  “Enitizes, your grand capital of Dlasitap, is not far from here―not more than seventy-five borgs, is it?” the professor asked.

  The affirmation was immediately provoked in the minds of the Emites, who marveled that these mechanical thinkers should be from another world and still know so much about the private affairs of Dlasitap.

  “We wish to go to Enitizes,” the professor asserted, avoiding information of the fact that they were come from the twin world of Selimemigre.

  In this desire they were to be satisfied sooner and more elaborately than they could have expected. Out of the city a military detachment came running, surrounding them and forcing them into a boat. Word had passed into the city that enemies from another world had come to Dlasitap. Coincident with their plans to go to Enitizes, the machine men found that they were being transported there aboard ship as prisoners, for Onolekag had no place to keep them.

  This had all been done so rapidly as to surprise the three Zoromes, who, as their desires were being consummated, submitted peacefully. But from their captors’ minds they stole information bit by bit during the trip to Enitizes, learning that a few of the nations of Dlasitap were straining at diplomatic relations, and armed forces were ready for any hostilities which might arise. The weapons of the Emites, they discovered later, were not unlike short rifles, which, under air compression, shot forth small pellets of explosives which detonated against whatever they happened to strike. 6W-438 was hit by one when an overzealous Emite forced him back from the edge of the boat where he had been regarding the operation of the mechanical sweeps. No damage, beyond a slight blackening of a metal leg where the pellet had exploded, was suffered by him.

  Shortly after sunset, they rode into the harbor of the great city of Enitizes, an international city of Dlasitap, where the world government held forth in all its pomp and power. The city was not only larger than the one they had just left, but it boasted more pretentious buildings.

  Without ceremony, the three machine men were escorted to the city’s museum where their metal legs were chained to the gigantic cube of rock on which they stood for the curious eyes of the Emites. Nearly the entire populace of Enitizes thronged the great hall, coming and going during the next few days in order to see the strange thinking machines from another world. The three Zoromes regarded the chains in secret amusement, especially the professor, for in his foretentacle he carried a heat ray with such intensive power that it would melt through these light metal alloy chains as if they were no more than hempen cords. For the time being, they were willing to submit to these measures, searching the minds of those who came for an inkling of the lost spaceship and its occupants.

  “Where do you suppose it is?” 19K-59 opened the question uppermost in the minds of the three.

  “An accident out in space, perhaps,” 6W-438 suggested. “They may be somewhere out in space at this moment still making repairs.”

  “It is more likely that they have landed on Dlasitap in some isolated spot,” siad the professor. “In a few more days, unless we find out where they are, we shall leave this place and discover what transportation facilities exist for a search on other parts of Dlasitap.”

  Several more days passed. The throngs of curious Emites did not diminish in numbers, for the report of the thinking machines had spread afar, and many were coming from other cities to see the strange creatures. The machine men remained aloof and uncommunicative, much to the chagrin of the various Emites who were most scientifically curious, but it was generally understood that they were from a distant world and that their spaceship had fallen into the ocean.

  The machine men were interested to learn that the Administrators were soon coming in a body to view the metal curiosities that had been so easily captured. Great preparations were made ready for the honored visit, and a broad dais with luxurious seats was built directly before the three curious exhibits. The seats could scarcely be called chairs by the professor, who noted their peculiar structure adapted especially for the four-le
gged creatures.

  On the day looked forward to, the great hall was crammed to its utmost capacity with Emites, and the seven Administrators, true to universal form, magnified their pomp and importance by a late arrival. The building echoed and reechoed to the acclaiming din, and, also universal in custom, the occasion called for a speech. It was from no less than Bemencanla himself.

  Chapter VIII

  The machine men found that he differed little superficially from the general run of Emites, but within his mind they readily discerned the turbulent, treacherous currents of avarice, cunning and hypocrisy. Bemencanla’s speech ran true to form. It was flowery, exuded patriotism and honor, and cited the magnificent progress under the recent regime, utterly ignoring the strained ties which now existed among several of the nations. The Grand Administrator reached a point where, in quivering wrath, he referred to the demise of the previous regime.

  “And Kamunioleten, that arch-criminal who so inglorious-ly brought his comrades to an untimely death, should no longer reap a profitable luxury in exile on Selmemigre! Legislation should be, and now is, in the making for his execution, a long delayed justice to the rights of our citizenry! One who would cast his fellow Administrators to meet death in space in order to achieve his own selfish ends is no longer fit to live, either on Dlasitap or Selimemigre!”

  As Bemencanla paused for breath and to instill a greater significance to his words, another voice interrupted, a silent voice that gripped the minds of the assembled thousands.

  “Those last are the truest words you have spoken! But in those words you have not described Kamunioleten but yourself! You, Bemencanla, were the one who planned the hideous crime you have just described, planning it so cleverly as to cover Kamunioleten with the blame!”

  This message rang like a siren in the minds of the gathered Emites. In Bemencanla’s words, Professor Jameson, irked by the past few days of inactivity and lack of information regarding his lost companions, recognized the opportune moment. He paused in the midst of the gasp which went up from the stricken Emites, as they realized that from this walking mechanism had issued a vibrant denunciation of Bemencanla. The Grand Administrator’s face blanched, while the mouth on the top of his head fell open in dumb surprise and consternation. The professor continued, citing, in clear thought pictures and mental suggestion, the entire perfidy of Bemencanla and the injustice done to Kamunioleten. It was all done so rapidly that in the hush of surprise there was little time for action. Bemencanla was the first to recover.

  “A lie―a great lie!” he shrieked. “These metal things are an invention of Kamunioleten flung across space to finish the ruin he commenced! Destroy them! They must be destroyed at once!”

  The spell was broken. The guards surrounding the Administrators’ stand shoved their way toward the block of stone on which the machine men stood chained. From a curling tentacle of one, they saw a dazzling, blinding light throw its aura about the chains that bound it. Before they realized what was happening, they saw the machine man free of the chains and at work on those which held his companions. Several chugging sounds were followed by small explosions about the body of the Zorome who worked unscathed and little perturbed by the guns of the approaching guards.

  Entirely free of the chains, the three machine men waited for the guards who, with more bravery than good sense, mounted the block of stone to overwhelm them. There followed more firing of guns before they came to grips, and then the machine men picked up their recent captors and hurled them out into the excited, milling throng, whose combined voices were throwing the place into an uproar that made the building tremble.

  “How are we to get out of here into the open?” 6W-438 queried.

  “Follow me,” was the reply.

  Adjusting his heat ray to low intensity, Professor Jameson leveled it at that section of the throng opposing their passage to the nearest exit. Badly burned, the screaming Emites opened a lane by scrambling out of harm’s way over the heads of their more fortunate neighbors. Out of the museum and into the city avenue ran the machine men of Zor, still undecided on a course. From near and far came running thousands of the Emites, attracted by the uproar.

  “What about the dock?” 6W-438 suggested. “They can overcome us by sheer weight of numbers here. We can either steal one of their boats or else hide in the ocean.”

  But now the machine men were at a loss as to the direction in which the harbor lay. 19K-59 believed he knew the way, and they ran in that direction, only to meet a wall of excited Emites, aroused and brandishing various types of weapons.

  “Remember the Aytans!” cried 6W-438. “We must not let them snare us!”

  The machine men turned and ran down another thoroughfare. Soon they met another wave of the creatures, several hundred strong, choking the street as far as they could see. Again they made a right-hand turn into the path of least resistance. This course brought them into the vicinity of what the machine men took to be industrial buildings. Ahead of them they saw no resistance, yet behind and farther away on either side they could hear the din of the menacing mobs.

  “They are herding us!” the professor warned. “This way is too easy!”

  “How could they have become organized against our escape so quickly?” interjected 6W-438.

  This question remained unanswered as the machine men hurried onward. With sudden despair, they saw a yelling horde break into the avenue from both sides just ahead, having emerged from the opening leading into the now solid succession of buildings. Behind them they heard and saw strange vehicles, each carrying fully a dozen of the Emites and all bearing down upon them.

  “Into this building!” Professor Jameson urged his metal comrades. “We are not caught yet!”

  The three Zoromes ducked quickly into a broad opening at the base of a nearby building. Inside, huge masses of mechanism testified to their recent guess that they were in an industrial center. Hasty glances showed them that the Emites were still pursuing. 6W-438 talked desperately of making a stand, realizing at the same time its futility unless they could discover a position of advantage.

  Through the long dimly lighted factory, the Emites pursued the machine men. At the far end waited more of them, biding quietly. 19K-59 was first to see them in the gloom ahead, and he gave warning.

  “There is no way to turn!” 6W-438 exclaimed.

  “Here!” The professor suited his thought with action as he climbed rapidly up the incline of a towering piece of machinery. “Up here!”

  6W-438 and 19K-59 scrambled after, as the professor paused to repel the advancing mob with his heat ray. This time the heat ray was increased to damaging intensity. One of the foremost of the Emites who clambered in pursuit fell back upon his companions semi-decapitated, a black, charred area marking the recent position of his head. The professor now swung the formidable weapon in a slow circling arc as he and his mechanical brethren climbed to a position where it was impossible to go higher.

  “Are we secure here, do you think?” 19K-59 asked.

  “As secure here as anywhere else until we can manage to reach the harbor and hide beneath the water,” said the professor. “We can lose them easily there.”

  “And ourselves as well,” 6W-438 added.

  A barrage of gunfire broke out and a splatter of explosions all around the machine men dazzled them momentarily. With the exception of a mechanical eye destroyed in the head of 19K-59, the machine men suffered no harm, clamping shut their optical shutters until the firing was over.

  Professor Jameson expressed his belief: “They’ll find a way to subdue us unless we can get safely to the harbor.”

  “Shall we make a break?”

  “Nightfall will soon come. Let us defend this position until then.”

  During the lull in hostilities, several Emites came pushing their way through the crowd below, evidently being in some authority by the way they were given immediate passage. They came as near as they dared to the foot of the great piece of mechanism and its besieged Zorom
es, stopping outside the ring of dead Emites strewn on the floor. They gave vent to unintelligible jargon directed at the machine men, the latter disregarding the sound entirely, concentrating their faculties upon the mental waves of the Emites.

  “Owmitelverol has expressed his wishes that you be heard through in peace regarding the denunciations you made against Bemencanla, the Grand Administrator. No harm will come to you during the interview.”

  This last promise, though temporarily reassuring, was an ominous one. The professor considered, then turned to his metal companions.

  “It offers a slightly better chance than this one.” He gestured at their present position. “Let us see Owmitelverol and talk with him.”

  “We can prove nothing,” cautioned 6W-438, who yet recognized in this new measure an increased opportunity for escape.

  “We can only state the facts squarely, see what effect they take and then afterward act accordingly,” the professor stated.

  The machine men were escorted to the Grand Administration Building, where they were left under guard. Their interview with Owmitelverol was scheduled for the following morning.

  * * *

  During the interview, a murmur had arisen from many throats in the street below, swelling to a roar of excitement and confusion. Disturbed, Owmitelverol went to a window to ascertain the cause of the disorder, aware of the fact that all three machine men were in his presence, leaving none of them responsible for the present tumult in the streets below. Professor Jameson pressed to the window. A huge shape settled slowly into the public square.

  “The spaceship!”

  Leaving Owmitelverol still staring out of the window in dumb surprise, the three Zoromes clattered down the innumerable steps and out into the milling crowds of Emites surrounding the spaceship at a respectful distance. Recklessly, they pushed their way toward the ship which they were so glad to see once more, especially at such an alarming time. As they burst into the wide opening given the spaceship by the awed Emites, out of the ship came a machine man closely followed by several metal companions. It was 744U-21, and behind him came 948D-21, oneof those the professor had left at the flooded castle where Kamunioleten had spent his exile. To their surprise and the greater surprise of the already astounded Emites, Kamunioleten himself, smiling and excited, emerged from the spaceship.