by Various
If The Sun Died
_By R. F. Starzl_
Crack! Again Mich'l's fist caught him.]
[Sidenote: Tens of millenniums after the Death of the Sun there comesa young man who dares to open the Frozen Gate of Subterranea.]
By our system of time we would have called it around 65,000 A. D., butin this cavern world, miles below the long-forgotten surface of theearth, it was 49,889. Since the Death of the Sun. That legendary sunwas but a dim racial memory, but the 24-hour day, based on itsillusory travel across the sky, was still maintained by uraniumclocks, by which the myriads who dwelt in the galleries and maze ofthe under-world warrens regulated their lives.
In the office of the nation's central electro-plant sat a young man.He was unoccupied at the moment. He was an example of the marvelouslyslow process of evolution, for, to all outward appearances he differedlittle from a Twentieth Century man. Keen intelligence sat on hisfine-cut, kindly young face. In general build he was lighter, morerefined than a man of the past. Yet even the long, delicately coloredrobe of mineral silk which he wore could not detract from his obviousvirility and strength.
His face flashed in a smile when a girl suddenly appeared in themiddle of the room, materializing, so it seemed, out of nowhere. Sheresembled him to some extent, except that she was exquisitelyfeminine, dark-haired, with a skin of warm ivory, while he was blondand ruddy. Her tinkling, silvery voice was troubled as she asked:
"Have I your leave to stay, Mich'l Ares?"
The look of adoration he gave her was answer enough, but he answeredwith the conventional formula, "It is given." He rose to his feet,walked right through the seemingly solid vision and made an adjustmenton a bank of dials. Then he walked through the apparition again and,standing beside his chair, looked at her inquiringly.
"You haven't forgotten, Mich'l, this is the day of the Referendum?"
Mich'l smiled slightly. It would be a day of confusion in Subterraneaif he should forget. As chief of the technies he was in direct chargeof the tabulating machines that would, a few seconds after the vote,give the result in the matter of the opening of the Frozen Gate. Butthe girl's concern sobered him instantly. On the decision of thepeople at noon depended the life work of her father, Senator Mane. Andit was now nine o'clock.
"I am sure they will order the Gate opened," he said instantly. "Allthe technies are agreed that your father is right, that the GreatCold was only another, more severe ice age--not the death of the Sun.The technies--"
* * * * *
Just as the girl had seemingly materialized, a young man now stoodbeside her. In appearance he was a picture of pride, power, arrogance,and definite danger. His hawk-like, patrician features were smiling.This olive-skinned, dark young rival of Mich'l was Lane Mollon, son ofSenator Mollon, ruthless administration leader and bitter opponent ofSenator Mane's Exodus faction.
Lane looked at Mich'l insolently.
"Have I your leave to stay, Mich'l Ares?" he asked.
"It is given," said Mich'l without enthusiasm.
"I'm not calling on you of my own will, Mich'l," the apparition ofyoung Mollon said contemptuously, "but Nida had the telucid turned onas I stepped into the room."
"It's as well for you that you're not here personally," Mich'l repliedpromptly. "The last time we met I believe I was obliged to knock youdown."
Lane Mollon flushed, with a sidelong glance at Nida. The girl gaveMich'l a frightened look.
Lane interpreted her concern rightly.
"Ordinarily it's not safe to try anything like that with me. I couldhave you executed in half an hour. But I don't have to call on theState to punish you. Nida, you'll admit I'm taking no unfair advantageof him?"
"Oh, I do, Lane, but--"
Lane reached out his hand to the dial, invisible to Mich'l, whichoperated the telucid apparatus, and immediately the apparitionsvanished. Mich'l looked at his own telucid, its great unwinking eyeset in the wall. But he did not project his own illusory body to thegirl's home. He was a technie--one of the pitifully few trained menand women who kept the intricate automatic machinery working. On themrested the immense, stupid civilization of the caverns, and there waswork to do. Mich'l felt that on this morning of her father's greatesttrial Nida would pay scant attention to Lane.
* * * * *
Mich'l was testing some of the controls when Gobet Hanlon came in.Gobet was also a technie, and Mich'l's special friend. Like Mich'l, hewore the light robe that was universal among the civilians in theequable climate of the caverns. He walked with the light, springy stepthat was somehow characteristic of the specialized class to which hebelonged, as distinguished from the languid gait of the pampered, lazypopulace. Attached to his girdle of flat chain links was a tinycomputing machine about as large as the palm of a man's hand. ForGobet did most of the mathematical work.
"You'll want me at the tabulating section?" Gobet stated inquiringly.
"It may be well," Mich'l smiled. "For the first time in centuries, Ibelieve, the general public is going to vote."
"Flos Entine wants to come along."
Mich'l's smile changed to a grin. He knew the pretty, willful littlesweetheart of Gobet's. If she wanted to be at the tabulating plant shewould be there.
"In fact," Gobet confessed somewhat sheepishly, "she is in the car."
The car was waiting in the gallery. It had no visible support, buthovered a few inches above the floor above one of two parallelaluminum alloy strips that stretched, like the trolley tracks of theancients, throughout all the galleries. The ancients well knew thataluminum is repelled by magnetism, but the race had lived in thecaverns for centuries before evolving an alloy that possessed thisrepulsive power to a degree strong enough to support a considerableweight.
Under Mich'l's guidance the car moved forward silently, throughinterminable busy streets with arched roofs, lined on either side withdoors that led to homes, theaters and food distributing automats.Occasionally they passed public gardens, purely ornamental, in which afew specimens of vegetation were preserved. They passed multitudes ofpeople, most of them handsome with a pampered, hot-house prettiness,but betraying the peculiar lassitude which had been sapping theenergies of this once dynamic race for millennia. Yet to-day theyshowed almost eagerness. The name of Leo Mane, prophet of deliverance,was on every tongue. And what was the Sun like? Like the greatvita-lights that were prescribed by law and evaded by everyone, exceptpossibly the technies? Those technies--they seemed to delight in work!Curious glances fell on the gliding car. Some work in connection withthe Referendum? What must one do to vote? Oh, the telucid!
* * * * *
Arriving at Administration Circle, the car entered a vast excavationhalf a mile in diameter, possibly a thousand feet high at the dome.Here were the entrances to some of the principal Government warrens.Here also centered the streets, like radiating spokes of a wheel, onwhich many of the officials lived. Here the emanation bulbs were morefrequent than in the galleries, so that the light was almost glaring.Guards of soldier-police, the stolid, well-fed, specialized classproduced by centuries of a static civilization, were everywhere. Notin the memory of their grandparents had they done any fighting, but intheir short, brightly colored tunics, flaring trousers and littlekepis they looked very smart. Their only weapon was a small tubecapable of projecting a lethal light-ray.
Mich'l led his party to the audience hall. It was only a few hundredfeet in diameter. At one end was the speaker's rostrum. Senator Manewas already there. He was tall, purposeful, but withal tired andwistful looking. His graying hair was cut at the nape of his neck,sweeping back from his swelling temples in a manner really suggestiveof a mane. His large, luminous eyes lit up.
"Is it nearly time?"
"Yes, Senator," Mich'l said. "The nation will soon assemble."
"You have met Senator Mollon?"
"I have had the pleasure," Mich'l acknowledged with polite irony,"since Senator Mollon g
ives me practically all my orders."
Mollon acknowledged the tribute with a quick smile, without risingfrom his chair. He, too, was different from the average Subterraneanin that he was forceful and aggressive, like Senator Mane. He wasstill youngish looking, of powerful, blocky build. His dark hair wascarefully parted in the middle and brushed down sleekly. The TwentiethCentury had known his prototype, the successful, powerful, utterlyunscrupulous politician; and in a different sphere, that type ofextra-Governmental ruler which the ancients called "gangster." It wascasually discussed in Subterranea that certain of the statesoldier-police were responsible for the mysterious assassinations thathad so conveniently removed most of the effective resistance toMollon's progress in the Senate. The once potent body had not held asession in ten years: didn't dare to, a cynical and indifferent publicsaid. And a strange reluctance on the part of qualified men to acceptthe Presidential nomination had left that office unfilled for the pastthree years. Mollon, as party dictator, performed the duties ofPresident provisionally.
* * * * *
Flos, mischievous as usual, rounded her great blue eyes and gazed atMollon with an expression of rapt admiration.
"Oh, Senator," she thrilled, "I think it's wonderful of you to giveSenator Mane an opportunity to debate with you. You are so kind!"
Mollon failed to detect any mockery, luckily for Flos. He looked ather with half-closed eyes.
"The public must be satisfied," he rumbled. "Senator Mane has arousedin them great hopes. A small matter might be adjusted, but only aReferendum will satisfy them in this."
"But Senator, the race is going to ruin. If we could get into the Sunagain--wouldn't you want that?"
"I don't believe there is a 'Sun'," Mollon replied; then, with thecandor of one who is perfectly sure of himself, added:
"If Mane were right, I still couldn't permit the Frozen Gate to beopened. I can control the people for their own good, here; it mightnot be possible Outside."
A deep musical note sounded. Suddenly the myriad inhabitants ofSubterranea seemed to be milling around in the room. Actually theirbodies were in their dwelling cells, but their telucid images filledthe hall. By a simple adjustment of the power circuit, their images,instead of being life size, were made only about an inch high,permitting the accommodation of the entire nation in the hall. Theirmillions of tiny voices, mingling, made a sighing sound.
* * * * *
Mane rose and stepped forward, raising his hand.
"Citizens of Subterranea," he began in powerful, resonant tones, andthen went on to put into his address all the fervor of a lifetime ofendeavor. He told them of those times in the dim past when the humanrace still dwelt on the surface of the earth. Of the Sun that pouredout inexhaustible floods of life and light; of the green things thatwere grown, not only to look at, but for food for all living thingsbefore food was made synthetically out of mined chemicals. Of theworld overrun by a teeming, happy, dynamic civilization.
"Then something happened. The Sun seemed to give less light, lessheat. Perhaps we ran into a cloud of cosmic dust that intercepted theSun's rays. Perhaps the cause was to be found in some change in theSun's internal structure. But the effects could not be doubted. Icebegan to come down from the poles. Ice barriers higher than thehighest towers covered the world, wiping out all life but the mostenergetic.
"Our ancestors, and many other advanced nations, began to burrowtoward the hot interior of the earth. We to-day have no idea of thelabor that went into the digging of our underground home. We arebecoming degenerate. More and more of us, even those who still use thevita-lights, are becoming pale and flabby. There are hardly enoughtechnies to keep the automatic machinery in order. What will happenwhen those technies also deteriorate, and lose the will to work? Fordeteriorate they must, just as Senator Mollon and his still activeallies will. Just as I will, if I live long enough. There is a greatforce that we never know here. It is called the cosmic ray. It neverpenetrates to our depth. And our vita-lights do not produce it."
He then spoke of the proposed Exodus, argued, pleaded, painted a rosypicture of the outer world, of a Sun come back, a world of brightnessand life. At the conclusion of his speech a sigh arose from theassembled millions--a sigh of hope, of half belief. Had the vote beentaken then the Frozen Gate would have been opened.
* * * * *
But Senator Mollon was on the rostrum, holding up a square, wellmanicured hand for attention. In his deep rumbling bass he tore thearguments for the Exodus to shreds. With the whip of fear he droveaway hope.
"If our savage ancestors lived on the inhospitable outer shell of theearth," he shouted, "is that a reason for our taking that retrogradestep? Read your histories. What happened to our neighboring nation ofAtlantica only a short 15,000 years ago? They did just as this man isurging--opened their outer gate. It promptly froze open, and liquidair, the remnant of what in primordial days was an outer atmosphere,poured down the tunnels. The whole nation died, and we saved ourselvesonly by blasting the connecting passages between them and us withfulminite."
A wave of fear passed over the tiny massed figures. For centuries therace had been rapidly losing all initiative, except for those fewleaders who, through superior stamina and religious devotion to theartificial sun-rays, had maintained something of their pristineenergy.
Now they were hysterical with fear of the unknown. Even as Mich'l Aresadjusted the parabolic antenna of the thought-receptor vote-countingmachine, he knew what the verdict would be. In a moment the vote wasflashed on a screen on the ceiling: 421 in favor of the Exodus and2,733,485 against it. There was an eery cheer from the people, andthey began to dissolve like smoke. Mollon rose, bowed politely andsmilingly, and walked out to where his magnetic car awaited him.
* * * * *
It was with a feeling of deep depression that Mich'l Ares went to workthe next morning. His despair was shared by the technies under himwith whom he talked. At the telestereo station he found a bitter youngman broadcasting a prepared commentary on the election ordered bySenator Mollon. It was congratulatory in nature, designed to confirmpopular opinion that the nation had been saved from a greatcatastrophe and to glorify the principles of Mollon's party.
"... And so once more this great nation has demonstrated its abilityto govern itself, to protect itself against dangerous and unsocialexperiments. The voice of the people is the voice of God. TheGovernment claims for itself no credit for this momentous decision.Each citizen has done his share toward the continuation of our safety,our prosperity...."
The young man finished the document, smiled a charming smile, andturned off the switch. Then he grimaced his disgust and lapsed into aglum meditation.
"What say, Kratz?" Mich'l asked.
"Trouble again on the west sector. Had trouble getting power enough.Generators ought to be overhauled." He made a helpless gesture.
"How about conscripting a little labor?"
"Tried it this morning. Most of the people are still in a daze fromchewing too much merclite. Those that're sober are too busy preeningthemselves for voting on the winning side."
Kratz informed Mich'l that Mollon had that morning given up allpretense of constitutional government, had preempted the treasury, andwas consolidating his position as avowed dictator.
"He probably wanted to do that a long time," Mich'l commented. "Hedidn't quite dare till that Referendum yesterday gave him the realmeasure of the public. Well, I've got to be going."
* * * * *
Mich'l took one of the small mechanical service tunnels back to hisoffice. This latest news had hardly affected him, so keen was hisdisappointment over the defeat of the Exodus. But he wanted to bealone. He walked through vast halls full of machinery, abandoned andrusting, through dark corridors that had once roared with industriallife. What would happen when the present overloaded machinery shouldbreak down; wear out? The rem
nants of the great technical army couldhardly serve what was left. Each passing year these silent, uselesshulks became more numerous. The specter of famine was stalking amidthe dusty pipes and empty vats of the chemical plants; the horrors ofdarkness lurked amid the tarnished compression spheres and the long,hooded monstrosities of the power plants, inadequately served byharassed and overworked technies.
In the middle of his office Mich'l found the telucid counterpart ofMila, sister of Nida Mane. She was younger than Nida, hardly more thansixteen. Her eyes were wide with terror as she sought Mich'l. Hercheeks were wet with tears, and her silken brown hair fell in carelessdisarray.
"Mich'l!" she cried, as soon as she saw him. "Lane Mollon has takenNida!"
"Taken her!"
"And Father is under arrest. Lane came this morning, crazy withmerclite gum. He had four or five soldiers with him. When Nida refusedto see him they broke down the door and went to her room. They draggedher out to Lane's car, and he took her to his warren near thePresidential quarters."
"She there now?"
"Yes. Father followed Lane's car. Guards kept him out of Lane'swarren, so he went to see Mollon. That devil only laughed at him,offered to call another Referendum. Father had a small pocketneedle-ray and--"
"Good! He killed Mollon?"
"No. But he managed to burn a hole through his arm. He was rushed offto one of the cells. And Mollon says he will call a Referendum todecide Father's fate."
"It would be just like that devil's sense of humor to let the peopledecree their only friend's death."
* * * * *
"They'll do it, too!" Mila exclaimed tragically. "Oh, how I wishMother were alive!"
"And each one will feel deep within him that he has done a great,commendable and original thing!" Mich'l added, with keen insight.
Mila sank to the floor.
"Go to your room," Mich'l said, gently stern. "Mollon and his ganghave reckoned without the technies." A woman's image appeared,stooping commiseratingly over Mila--a friend of the family. Mich'lordered her to care for Mila. Then, he took a deep breath. Gone washis feeling of helpless sorrow, leaving only an overwhelming,steadying, satisfying anger. He flung the telucid switch, barkedcracking orders.
In half an hour every technical man of Subterranea was in a largestoreroom near Mich'l's office. They were mostly young, keen andalert, their skins red or brown from the actinic lights, their hairshowing more or less bleaching from the same cause. As Mich'l talkedthey became intent: they listened with a cold, deadly silence thatwould perhaps have made the smug millions of Subterranea quake withfear.
This affront put upon the only man in the Government who could speaktheir language, who could comprehend their ideals: the peril of thegirl they all knew and loved: these things set their long-repressedresentment flaring to white heat. They were ready for desperatethings. A turn of a valve and water would thunder through the maze ofgalleries; a mishap far, far down toward the earth's hot core, andsteam would rush up--
* * * * *
But Mich'l steadied them. After all, Subterranea was their country.Anarchy was far from the technie ideals. He had a plan.
"Nothing is to be done until we have Senator Mane and Nida," Mich'linstructed them. "Remember that! Do nothing until you hear from me.Each of you go to your station. Set all adjustments so that they willnot need attention for some weeks, at least. Those of you who havefamilies, tell them to be ready to move to another residence. Saynothing about any trouble--understand?"
There were nods of assent.
"You will proceed to your posts and keep busy. When I come it'll be bytelucid. I will say nothing. I will simply wave my hand. That meansyou are to take your wives, your families, your sweethearts, toSubstation No. 37X."
There were audible gasps.
"Not 37X!" exclaimed one of the older men. "Why, that's twenty milesup, near the Frozen Gate!"
"Yes!" Mich'l smiled with tight lips. "You men willing?"
There was an instantaneous shout of approval. Curiously enough,seizure of the Gate by force had not occurred to any of thislaw-abiding, well-disciplined group. But Mollon's lawless seizure ofthe Government had removed all inhibitions of that sort. Seizure ofthe Gate would bring at one stroke the realization of the dream thatthe technies had tried for generations to win by political means.Surely, when the Gate was open, and they could see the glorious,half-mythical Sun for themselves, the people would consent to theExodus!
For the technies, even in the bitterness of defeat, were notanti-social. They hoped and worked for the devitalized races ofSubterranea, for the betterment of their condition, more than fortheir own. The technies were the fittest; they had demonstrated theirability to survive unchanged under adverse condition. They would beleast helped by the Exodus. Yet they had worked for it all theirlives, as had their fathers before them, out of unselfish love forhumanity. There have always been such men. Through the murk of historywe see their lives as small, steady lights, infrequent and lonely.With the opening of the Frozen Gate suddenly a possibility, thetechnies forgot their exasperation with the stupid mob.
* * * * *
"The Gate is guarded," said an elderly man dubiously.
"A small guard," Gobet Hanlon remarked quickly, "and probably dazedwith merclite. Nothing to fear."
"Stay away from the Gate," Mich'l instructed. "Give no cause foralarm. If an emergency arises while I'm gone, see Gobet."
"Don't go alone, Mich'l," Gobet begged. "A few of us with ray-needlescan storm the detention cells. We can clean out Lane's warren."
"We might, but the Senator and Nida would be gone. The alarm would begiven. In a few minutes there'd be a mob."
The technies were already dispersing eagerly. Mich'l pressed hisfriend's hand, saying:
"I'll take my needle-ray, and I know every way to get around there is.Alone, I'll attract no attention. Till later, Gobet!" And he was gone.
Mich'l's way was through the smaller, less frequented communicationpassages used principally by the technies. Occasionally he did meetcitizens, still light-headed after their election victory celebration,and lost, but he paid them no heed. He came to the ventilation centerof that level.
For ages no air had entered Subterranea from the outside. All of theair had to be regularly reconditioned, and so was returned, through asystematic network of air ducts, to a vast, central chemical plant. Itwas a latter-day Cave of the Winds, where the north, south, east andwest winds of that buried empire regularly returned for a brief fewminutes of play amid chemical sprays, condensers, humidifiers,oxydisers, to be again dispatched to their drudgery. This hall wastruly colossal, filled to the shadowy ceilings, a thousand feet high,with gigantic pipes, tanks, wind-turbines.
* * * * *
The technie in charge had not yet returned, but Mich'l consulted thedistribution plan, and soon located the duct that led to Lane Mollon'swarren. In a few minutes he was running, helped along by a strongcurrent of fresh air. The map had shown the warren to be about a mileaway. For the benefit of the technies who had to work there, the ductwas plainly marked; and the lighting, by infrequent emanation bulbs,was adequate, though dim.
Mich'l had made no plans for a course of action after arriving at hisdestination. He felt reasonably sure that if he could get into thewarren he would have a good chance to escape with Nida. In theconfusion he could hide her nearby, and perhaps effect the release ofthe senator also. He had no doubt about his fate if he were caught.Lane's pose of good sportsmanship having failed to impress Nida, hehad adopted simple, brutal coercion. Mich'l's fate, if caughtinterfering, would be summary execution.
Mich'l found the grating which he sought. It bore the key number ofLane's establishment. The key which would unlock it was of course inthe hands of the police; but the bars were badly corroded, and Mich'lmanaged to bend them enough to permit the passage of his body.
He found himself in a small cham
ber, from which ducts led to all partsof the warren. These ducts were too small to permit passage of hisbody, however; it would be necessary to come into the open. A smallmetal door promised egress. Mich'l climbed out, and faced a surprisedcook in the kitchen, engaged in flavoring synthetic food drinks.Mich'l said explanatorily:
"Inspection, air service."
The cook did not know the regulations about keeping the air tunnelslocked. Moreover, he, like all other servants of the mighty, workedunwillingly, being conscripted. He only grunted.
* * * * *
Mich'l made a pretense of testing the air currents. Presently hestepped into one of the communicating corridors. The warren wasplanned something like a house of the Surface Age, with luxuriouslyfurnished rooms, baths, dining halls, and all the appurtenances ofwealth. Arriving at a rotunda, in the center of which was a glowingfountain, Mich'l encountered a guard. Boldly he asked him:
"Where is Mr. Mollon? I wish to see him."
The guard looked surprised.
"About Nida Mane, sir? I would hardly dare."
Mich'l looked at the man sharply, but there was no hint of recognitionin the stupid, phlegmatic face.
"What about Nida Mane? It is about her I wish to speak."
There was a slight stirring of interest in the soldier's face.
"He will be glad to see you, sir, if you bring news of her."
"Eh, yes? Perhaps what I have to tell will be of no interest to him."
"If you can tell him where she is he will ask no more of you."
"She made good her escape then?"
Slow suspicion was dawning at last.
"For one who brings news you ask a lot of questions," the guardremarked heavily, as his hand slipped to the needle-ray weapon at hisside. "Show your pass!"
Like a flash Mich'l was upon him, his hand at the thick throat, theother grasping the wrist. Although the soldier, like the majority ofthe populace, lacked the intense vitality of the technies, he hadstubborn strength, and he fought effectively in the drilled, automaticway of his kind. Mich'l was further handicapped by the necessity ofmaintaining silence. One shout, and a dozen needle-rays would no doubtperforate his body with holes and slash his flesh with smolderingcuts.
* * * * *
Grunting and sweating, they fought all around the rose-colored curb ofthe fountain. At last Mich'l succeeded in forcing his adversary overthe low stone, and they went over together with a resounding splash.The straining body of the guard suddenly relaxed, and a spreading redcloud in the water disclosed that he had struck his head against thefirst of the terraces that rose in the fountain's mist-shroudedcenter.
Up one of the corridors a door opened, and an angry voice shouted:
"Gurka! Gurka! I'll have you in bracelets! Captain of the guard!"
"Sir!" From another of the corridors came a sound of running feet. Acommand rang out:
"On the double!"
An officer, followed by four soldiers, dashed around the corner andflashed by the fountain. Peering over the curb, Mich'l saw them, somehundred yards away, come to a halt before an opened door. With athrill of exultation Mich'l recognized the tall figure of Lane Mollon,looking like a slightly damaged satyr of the better class, for hishead was bandaged, and he was in bad humor.
"Captain!" he stormed. "I want you to put that damned louse insolitary confinement for a year. Hear?"
"Yes, sir." Like a megaphone the long corridor carried the low,respectful words to Mich'l's ears.
Lane continued to storm:
"And if you put another damned merclite-crazy blunker[1] on guard inthis place I'll have your commission. Hear?"
"Yes, sir."
[Footnote 1: Blunker--a blunderer, an oaf. Mechanical recording hadpreserved the language in much of its original form, but new words didcreep in.]
* * * * *
A quick decision was necessary, and Mich'l acted without hesitation.The guard had rolled over on his back, so that his face was out of thewater, and he was breathing with quick, painful gasps. Mich'l draggedhim up under the concealing shelter of the fountain spray, and therechanged clothes with him. In the meantime the flowing water washedaway the red stain of blood. When the captain returned with his guard,Mich'l was lying realistically in the pool, apparently deep in druggedsleep, the little kepi tilted rakishly over his face.
He was roughly seized and dragged out of the water to theaccompaniment of much cursing. A fist crashed into his face.
Suddenly the soldiers felt the supine figure under their hands explodeinto energy. Elbows and fists seemed to fly from all directions atonce. A needle-ray appeared, and before they could draw their ownweapons they were howling with pain as searing welts drew over theirbodies. With one accord they plunged into the pool. Only the officerremained, and he fell to the mosaic floor, his weapon half raised, thesmall black hole in his chest giving off a burnt odor.
Mich'l appropriated the officer's brassard of rank, and, menacing thecowed guards, forced them to herd into a nearby room, carrying thebody of the officer with them. Mich'l locked the door and lookedaround. He saw no one observing him, and could count on carrying apretty good bluff in his uniform, which was rapidly shedding itswater. With a firm step Mich'l walked to Lane Mollon's door, threw itopen, and entered.
* * * * *
Lane sat up on his couch, his feet striking the floor with an angrythump. But when he recognized Mich'l he paled slightly.
"Where is she?" Mich'l demanded roughly, "before I burn you down!"
"You said once," Lane began sneeringly, "that you wanted to fight me.Now, if you'll just put down that--"
"Not now," Mich'l dissented with deadly coldness. "Where is Nida?Speak fast."
Lane did so.
"She isn't here. The little short[2] crowned me with a chair, andslipped out. How did I--"
[Footnote 2: Short--trouble-maker, spitfire. A colloquialism probablygrowing out of the once frequently used electrical term"short-circuit."]
"When? Hurry up!"
"Hardly an hour ago. She walked down the corridor, showed athick-witted guard my own executive pass, and got away. But I got thatguard--"
"Never mind what you did to the guard--"
Suddenly the image of an officer strange to Mich'l stood in the roomand saluted smartly.
"Has Captain Ilgen Mr. Lane Mollon's leave to stay?" he asked.
Mollon started forward, but before he could disclose his predicamentMich'l had sidled over to him and thrown one arm affectionately overhis shoulder. In his hand, concealed by the rich folds of Lane's robe,Mich'l held his needle-ray, and it was pressed firmly against Lane'sribs.
"Mr. Mollon will be glad to hear you," Mich'l said smoothly.
* * * * *
He fancied that the eyes of the officer's image dilated slightly, butit lost none of its military rigor. But some explanation of hispresence there in his still damp uniform must be given Ilgen, so hegrowled, in a voice that he tried to make a bit thick, as if he hadchewed too much merclite:
"At ease, Captain. At ease! Damn it man, you don't have to be sodamned military. You're among friends!" And he towseled Lane's darkhair affectionately.
Captain Ilgen looked his disgust.
"Sir," he said to Lane, "we recaptured Nida Mane as she tried to boarda public car near the Executive Mansion."
The black lens at the end of Mich'l's needle-ray pressed hard, andLane said naturally:
"You have her in custody?"
"Sir, we have." And to Mich'l's dismay, Nida, defiant, her lovely formhalf revealed by rents in her garments, seemed to materialize besidethe officer. Her wrathful eyes were fixed on Lane, and then she sawMich'l.
The technie put all his will into the pleading stare which hereturned, and she understood. She gave no sign of recognition, butfavored both Lane and Mich'l equally with the chill of her disdain.
"Sir, what a
re your orders?"
Lane glanced aside at Mich'l, acutely conscious of the lethal pressurein his ribs.
"'Sall right with me, old fellow," Mich'l squawked good-humoredly."This your girl that got away from you? Let's both go over and bringher back."
Lane nodded assent. The soldier saluted, and his vision and that ofthe girl disappeared.
"And we're going to do just that!" Mich'l added in an entirely changedvoice. "Get up, you. Act right, speak right, do right, and you maylive to see another day."
* * * * *
So the two left the warren in apparent amity, and walked the beautifulstreet, with its richly formed, brightly colored arches, its seeminglyillimitable vistas, its luxuriant, pampered decorative vegetation, itsblazing lights--until at last they came to Administration Circle, andentered the ponderous gates behind which lay the very heart of theGovernment.
They were challenged at once. Although the officer of the guard knewLane, usage required the showing of the daily pass. Many high officersof the Government had in years past fallen from grace overnight.
This formality complied with, Lane and Mich'l, the latter with hisray-needle ever ready, sat down to wait in the guard room. And Lane,under Mich'l's quiet prompting, ordered that Nida and her father bebrought to him.
"We shall bring the girl, yes," the astonished officer protested, "butnot Senator Mane. He is a prisoner of state."
"Perhaps you don't know, Captain," Mich'l suggested smoothly, "that itis not wise to disregard the orders of the Provisional President'sson?"
"It would cost me my commission, perhaps my life!" the officer said.
"Neither would be worth much if you disobey!" Mich'l countered, a wireedge creeping into his voice.
The officer looked into Lane's stormy face, then with great reluctanceretreated to carry out the order.
In about ten minutes he was back, with four guards and his prisoners.He explained that Captain Ilgen was detained on official duty.
"You may go," said Lane, prompted by a jab in the ribs.
"A written receipt, please, sir, for the senator."
Glowering, Lane wrote out the desired document. At last they werealone.
"Our program," Mich'l announced briskly, "is simple. You will conductus to one of the Government cars, and will ride with us to such placesas we may direct, and I shall release you when it pleases me. If youthen want to fight, I will accommodate you."
"I would be willing to fight you, as head of the technies," Lanecountered sullenly, "but I wouldn't be bothered with a rebel and atraitor. You've overstepped yourself this time, my fine bolthead, andall I ask is a front seat at your execution!"
* * * * *
They stepped into the brightly lighted hall, and in that instantMich'l felt a searing heat on his shoulder. Without a moment's pausehe hurled Senator Mane and the girl back into the room. At the samemoment he flung an arm around Lane's neck and pulled him back into thedoorway, where he could use him as a shield while he cautiously peeredout into the corridor. His shoulder throbbed painfully, but hismovement had prevented the needle-ray from penetrating deeply in anyone place.
A short distance up the corridor was a wider space, in the center ofwhich stood a large bronze urn filled with exotic plants. Behind thisurn were several soldiers, and Mich'l recognized the sharp-eyedCaptain Ilgen. So that officer had recognized the true state ofaffairs, or had strong suspicions! But in his haste and eagerness hehad overlooked one important fact. In the guardroom, were riot-rays,heavy replicas of the ordinary hand weapons. They had not been neededfor many years, but the technies had always kept them fully chargedand in order.
"Nida!" Mich'l called, not removing his eye from the doorway.
"Yes?" She was standing beside him, and Mich'l thrilled to theadmiration and positive affection in her intonation.
"Notice those short tubes mounted on light wheels over against thewalls? Those are riot-ray projectors. Wheel me over a couple."
Nida did as directed. Mich'l stuck the stubby muzzle of one of thenearest weapons into the corridor, pulled the lever and swung the rayin an arc toward the ambushed soldiers. There was a sharp cracklingnoise and the heat chipped myriads of flakes off the stone walls,leaving a gray path across the rich murals, and the air was filledwith flying particles. The heat was terrific. It beat back into thedoorway.
Captain Ilgen gave a short, sharp order, and he and his men retreatedbefore the bronze urn began to wilt and drip melted metal. He couldnot be accused of cowardice, for his hand weapons were puny comparedto the riot-rays.
"Quick, before he gets in touch with the outer guard!" Mich'l urgedhis prisoner forward, Senator Mane following. The grave patriarch ofrhetoric made a striking picture as he dragged the second riot-rayalong. The other one was abandoned, locked with full power on. It wasconverting that corridor into an inferno, and there would be nopursuit through that avenue.
* * * * *
Mich'l pushed open the metal door suddenly. Two guards on duty werejust coming in, their hand weapons ready. They never knew what struckthem for there was no time for compunction. But even as their bodiessank to the paving there was the harsh clangor of alarm bells.Soldiers dashed from everywhere and came running, their needle-raysmenacing.
"In there!" Mich'l shouted. He pointed to the doors, at the deadguards. As they hesitated, he added:
"Revolution! They're storming the President's office! Hear the rays?"
Through the doors came a faint humming, an acrid smell of heat, ofstone and metal fumes. A corporal saluted Mich'l, recognized Lane'shaggard features, and Lane again felt that cogent persuader in hisribs.
"That's right, Corporal!" he said bitterly.
"Is the guard room occupied, sir?"
"Not now, you fool!" Mich'l snapped at him. This resolved the last ofthe corporal's misgivings. Giving an order, he led his men in,gasping.
"Now we'll run!" Mich'l ordered, giving Lane a shove. "Coming, Nida?"She was dragging her father along joyously. They crossed the broadpedestrian walk, and in the street found an official car nestling onone of the tracks.
"Heave in the riot-ray, will you, old fellow?" Mich'l requestedjovially, and Lane did. Then the listless chauffeur turned acontroller, and the big car rose a few inches, lightly as a feather,and sped away swiftly through the maze of traffic.
* * * * *
Sometime later they were in a service lift; not one of the greatpublic lifts that carried their hundreds at a trip, but one of thesmall lifts used mostly by the technies, and known to few outsidetheir ranks. Mich'l, standing blissfully close to Nida and her father,enjoyed his moment of relaxation. Many things had been attended to.Lane had been released at last, in one of the catacomb cemeteries. Itwould take him at least two hours to find his way out. They werediscussing the riot-ray, which they had with them.
"I hope we won't have to exhaust it in a fight before we get out,"Senator Mane said anxiously. "It would be a splendid weapon if weencounter a hostile environment Outside."
"The Gate is guarded," Mich'l said practically, "but we expect tosurprise them. No use worrying."
The lift came to a stop at an air-lock. The great elevator shaftswere closed by airlocks every 2,000 feet. The reason is obvious. Ifthe air of the great, spheroid subterranean nation were allowed tofreely obey the laws of gravity, it would be oppressively dense in thelower levels, and excessively rarified in the upper ones. While theairlocks were operating Mich'l stepped to a telucid and gave theagreed-on signal.
In another half hour they were at 37X. The great, dusty, andlittle-used storeroom was only poorly lighted; it was dank, and had anuncomfortable chill. Technies and their families were coming in fromall sides, and it was not long before some five hundred persons, men,women and children, were assembled. Many of them were pale andfrightened looking, for they were staking everything on an ideal, atheory. There would be no coming back. The statute books
ofSubterranea decreed only one penalty--death--for even the meresttampering with the Frozen Gate. It was not like this that they hadvisioned the opening of the Gate. Under properly controlledconditions, it would have been possible to open the gate forpreliminary explorations. But not now. They were outside the law.
* * * * *
Nida, standing beside Mich'l, shivered and pulled her over-robe closeraround her. There was sadness in her voice as she said:
"These children.... They remind me of the thousands of children wemust abandon with our people. If I could, I'd steal a few to take withus."
Mich'l grinned without mirth.
"And be damned as a kidnapper of a particularly horrible sort, as longas Subterranea lasts!"
"I know. I know. But what will happen to them all when the automaticmachinery fails?"
"They may learn to run it, if they have to. Or if we succeed inestablishing ourselves in the outer world we can tunnel back to themaround the Gate in a year or so. Don't worry about them too much.We're taking the big risk, not they."
Gobet Hanlon, accompanied by Flos Entine and Mila Mane, approached. Hewas loaded down with a huge case of concentrated food.
"I've given orders to bring with us all the cold resisting fabrics wecould carry. Got 'em loaded down, eh?"
"All here?"
"Every last one."
"Let's go, then." Mich'l stepped to a small door that led into themain corridor close to the Gate. This door had not been used by thetechnies when assembling. Through a tiny hole the guard, foursoldiers, could be seen about a blanket, tossing sixteen-sided dice.Mich'l opened the door, his needle-ray pointed.
"Don't move, or you burn!" he commanded harshly.
* * * * *
The guards, taken completely by surprise, did not move. In a fewmoments they were bound, gagged, and dumped into a corner of 37X.Eager technies were swarming over the complicated mechanism that theyhad dared to touch, before, only for inspection and maintenance. TheFrozen Gate was like a huge stopper in a bottle, made of chromiumsteel. It was thirty feet in diameter, and thirty feet thick from itswell insulated inside face to that enigmatical Outside that had been agrisly mystery to the race for some five hundred centuries.
There was a flash of sparks, and the quiet hum of motors. With ashuddering groan the great plug freed itself from the grip ofmillennia; turned a few inches in its hole. The supporting gimbalstook the load now, and slowly the great mass moved inward, carried byan overhead traveling crane whose track was bolted to the rock roof.The rate of movement was slow, not much over three or four inches aminute.
An excited murmur filled the cavern--almost hysterical joy. ButMich'l, watching that widening margin for the dreaded gush of liquidair, only trembled with relief. At least the calamity that had visitedrash Atlantica would not be repeated here.
A young technie, one of the heat distributors, climbed up the heavybosses on the gateway's face.
"I'm going to be the first to see the Sun!" he shouted joyously. Hischallenging gaze roved over the waiting crowd, and suddenly his faceturned ashen. For at the turn of the corridor, some hundred yardsaway, he had seen men. No mistaking those uniforms; they weresoldiers. And Mich'l, following his gaze, saw a riot-ray being wheeledinto place. His own riot-ray already commanded the corridor, but hedared not use it. The soldiers, under the partial protection of theturn, could incinerate the helpless technies with little danger tothemselves.
"Wait!" Mich'l shouted, running into the open.
* * * * *
An officer came to meet him. He then recognized Captain Ilgen, whoseexceptional shrewdness had almost undone him before. Ilgen could notsee the slow movement of the gate, and Mich'l, himself weaponless,counted only on parleying for time.
They met midway between the two forces, and the small black lens ofthe captain's weapon pointed steadily at Mich'l's chest.
"Mich'l Ares, I arrest you." It seemed that the captain's fine grayeyes looked out of the lean face with real sympathy. "It may be therewill be executive clemency for these people of yours, but for you--"
Mich'l, tense and deadly, saw the captain's vigilant attention leavehis face for a second; saw his eyes widen in consternation. He couldnot know that Ilgen had seen a slender crescent of green light appearin the Frozen Gate, but he did not lose the opportunity. His fistcrashed on the captain's jaw, so that the soldierly figure reeled andthe needle-ray fell to the ground. Mich'l leaped after him, picked himup, held him. The riot-ray was turned full on him, and a soldier'shand trembled on the lever. But it did not pull.
"You'll kill him!" Mich'l shouted. And then he ventured to turn hishead to look at the Gate. He saw the first of the fugitives struggleinto the narrow crack. The gate seemed to have stuck, and there wasbarely room to pass. Ilgen, half conscious, was trying to rain blowson Mich'l's back, compelling him to stop and pass the officer's handsthrough the belt of his tunic and to manacle them with a pair ofbracelets which he found in his pocket. As he staggered toward theGate with his burden, he saw Gobet beside him, the stolen riot-raymenacing the soldiers, who would otherwise have rushed in.
* * * * *
Suddenly Ilgen struggled upright.
"Fire," he commanded in stentorian tones.
"They'll kill you too, you fool!" Mich'l exclaimed angrily.
"I am a soldier!" Ilgen answered with contempt. His legs barelysupported his weight, and he was struggling to free his manacledhands. He threw himself into the narrow crevice of the Gate, toobstruct the stream of fugitives. He started to shout again:
"Fi--" Crack! Again Mich'l's fist caught him. He hooked the officer'selbows over two of the bosses, so that he was supported in plain sightof his men, and turned to urge haste. The last two stragglers werehurrying through, and with relief Mich'l turned to follow. But he setthe closing mechanism in motion before he leaped for the narrowopening that was becoming still narrower, though very slowly. Now forthat green crescent of light, and hope!
He felt a wave of heat. Glancing back, he saw the irresolute guardsscattered by the enraged charge of a square, blocky man in civilianrobe--the usually smiling Provisional President, Senator Mollon.Mollon himself was fumbling with the lever of the riot-ray. Ilgen hadevidently reported where he was going before starting in pursuit ofthe technies.
Again that withering flash of heat, and Mich'l saw Captain Ilgen,still semi-conscious, suddenly turn red-faced. Mollon would burn himup without compunction, in the hope of catching one of the fugitivetechnies. And now a figure in uniform leaped forward at Mollon's angrygesture, and bent purposefully to the sighting tube.
The crescent was now so slender that Mich'l had to turn sideways tosqueeze back into the corridor. And slowly, inexorably, it was growingsmaller still. With desperate haste the practiced, uniformed man wasadjusting his range.
Captain Ilgen struggled when Mich'l seized him.
"I arrest--"
Mich'l thought for a sickening moment that he was caught in theclosing gate. Then he was free in the cylindrical tunnel into whichthe plug was creeping. Luckily, Ilgen was slight. His body squeezedthrough with little more difficulty than Mich'l's own. Now the openingwas too small for any man's body. A red glow illuminated thatnarrowing slit; an acrid wave of heat, and the smell of burnt metalcame with the strong current of air that blew out of Subterranea.
* * * * *
Mich'l dragged his captive down the rocky tunnel, the floor of whichdipped gently away from the Gate; for drainage, no doubt. Around abend, the source of the greenish light was apparent. The fugitiveswere in an ice cavern. The light seemed to emanate from roof andwalls. The air was uncompromisingly chill, for the blast of warm airfrom Subterranea had stopped.
But the cold of the air was nothing to the icy chill that settled onthe heart of Mich'l Ares, and the hearts of Senator Mane, and theother leaders of this desperate enterprise. So this, this was theOutsi
de! A cavern of ice--small, hemmed-in! Those ancient folk-legendsof a Sun--
"I arrest you, Mich'l Ares!"
Mich'l laughed shortly. What a single-minded fellow this Captain Ilgenwas! Still groggy, of course. Didn't know where they were. He left thesoldier with the red, blistered face.
"Mich'l! Mich'l!" a voice echoed shrilly from the ice walls. It was ahigh-pitched voice, and an excited one. A boy came flying out of anarrow crevice, his short robe flying, his cloth-wrapped legstwinkling.
"Mich'l!" he shouted. "I saw it! I saw the Sun, the beautiful Sun!"
Lucky it was that in the rush no one was hurt. The small cleft openedinto a wide tunnel, a low-roofed cave through which milky-white waterflowed. The cave opened upon a vista of blue sky and toweringmountains whose tops were burdened with snow and upon whose sidesglaciers slid down and melted; and the milky-white stream brawled downinto a green valley, far, far below. On a mountain meadow, not farfrom the glacier that still buried the Frozen Gate, they rested....
* * * * *
And so came a new strain of humanity upon the surface of the earth--astrain tempered and refined by the inexorable process of evolution andenvironment. Already animal life had reappeared, drastically changedand ruthlessly weeded out by the most severe Ice Age the world hadever known, and now Man stood once more on a new threshold of time.
Something of this may have passed through the minds of the refugeesluxuriating in the strong sunlight of this mountain meadow, and inactive and alert brains the foundations of a new civilization werealready being built.
They were preparing to go into the valley below when there was a dullconcussion. The glacier over the Frozen Gate rose slightly, thendisappeared completely out of sight, leaving a yawning hole in themountainside. Ice and rocks slid down, filling the hole. The refugeesgazed at the scene in fear and wonder.
"They have blown up the gate! And the chambers leading to it!" SenatorMane--now only Leo Mane--said slowly. "There goes our last chance tosave them!" His tones were deeply sad. He could not look upon thesepeople as an experiment that Nature had abandoned, although he knewthat history is thronged with the shadows of vanished races, culled bythe process of natural selection.
But Youth looks only ahead. The majority of the rescued technies wereyoung, and with eagerness and anticipation, they followed Mich'l andNida Ares down into the valley to build their first homes.