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 * * * * *

VOL. VI, No. 1 CONTENTS APRIL, 1931

COVER DESIGN H. W. WESSO _Painted in Water-Colors from a Scene in "Monsters of Mars. "_

MONSTERS OF MARS EDMOND HAMILTON 4 _Three Martian-Duped Earth-Men Swing Open the Gates of Space That for So Long Had Barred the Greedy Hordes of the Red Planet. _ (A Complete Novelette. )

THE EXILE OF TIME RAY CUMMINGS 26 _From Somewhere Out of Time Come a Swarm of Robots Who Inflict on New York the Awful Vengeance of the Diabolical Cripple Tugh. _ (Beginning a Four-Part Novel. )

HELL'S DIMENSION TOM CURRY 51 _Professor Lambert Deliberately Ventures into a Vibrational Dimension to Join His Fiancée in Its Magnetic Torture-Fields. _

THE WORLD BEHIND THE MOON PAUL ERNST 64 _Two Intrepid Earth-Men Fight It Out with the Horrific Monsters of Zeud's Frightful Jungles. _

FOUR MILES WITHIN ANTHONY GILMORE 76 _Far Down into the Earth Goes a Gleaming Metal Sphere Whose Passengers Are Deadly Enemies. _ (A Complete Novelette. )

THE LAKE OF LIGHT JACK WILLIAMSON 100 _In the Frozen Wastes at the Bottom of the World Two Explorers Find a Strange Pool of White Fire--and Have a Strange Adventure. _

THE GHOST WORLD SEWELL PEASLEE WRIGHT 118 _Commander John Hanson Records Another of His Thrilling Interplanetary Adventures with the Special Patrol Service. _

THE READERS' CORNER ALL OF US 134 _A Meeting Place for Readers of Astounding Stories. _

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 * * * * *

Monsters of Mars

A COMPLETE NOVELETTE

_By Edmond Hamilton_

[Illustration: _The Martian gestured with a reptilian arm toward theladder. _]

[Sidenote: Three Martian-duped Earth-men swing open the gates of spacethat for so long had barred the greedy hordes of the Red Planet. ]

Allan Randall stared at the man before him. "And that's why you sentfor me, Milton?" he finally asked. 

The other's face was unsmiling. "That's why I sent for you, Allan, " hesaid quietly. "To go to Mars with us to-night!"

There was a moment's silence, in which Randall's eyes moved as thoughuncomprehendingly from the face of Milton to those of the two menbeside him. The four sat together at the end of a roughly furnishedand electric-lit living-room, and in that momentary silence there camein to them from the outside night the distant pounding of the Atlanticupon the beach. It was Randall who first spoke again. 

"To Mars!" he repeated. "Have you gone crazy, Milton--or is this somejoke you've put up with Lanier and Nelson here?"

[Illustration]

Milton shook his head gravely. "It is not a joke, Allan. Lanier and Iare actually going to flash out over the gulf to the planet Marsto-night. Nelson must stay here, and since we wanted three to go Iwired you as the most likely of my friends to make the venture. "

"But good God!" Randall exploded, rising. "You, Milton, as a physicistought to know better. Space-ships and projectiles and all that are butfictionists' dreams. "

"We are not going in either space-ship or projectile, " said Miltoncalmly. And then as he saw his friend's bewilderment he rose and ledthe way to a door at the room's end, the other three following himinto the room beyond. 

 * * * * *

It was a long laboratory of unusual size in which Randall foundhimself, one in which every variety of physical and electricalapparatus seemed represented. Three huge dynamo-motor arrangementstook up the room's far end, and from them a tangle of wiring ledthrough square black condensers and transformers to a battery of greattubes. Most remarkable, though, was the object at the room's center. 

It was like a great double cube of dull metal, being in effect twometal cubes each twelve feet square, supported a few feet above thefloor by insulated standards. One side of each cube was open, exposingthe hollow interiors of the two cubical chambers. Other wiring ledfrom the big electronic tubes and from the dynamos to the sides of thetwo cubes. 

The four men gazed at the enigmatic thing for a time in silence. Milton's strong, capable face showed only in its steady eyes whatfeelings were his, but Lanier's younger countenance was alight withexcitement; and so too to some degree was that of Nelson. Randallsimply stared at the thing, until Milton nodded toward it. 

"That, " he said, "is what will flash us out to Mars to-night. "

Randall could only turn his stare upon the other, and Lanier chuckled. "Can't take it in yet, Randall? Well, neither could I when the ideawas first sprung on us. "

 * * * * *

Milton nodded to seats behind them, and as the half-dazed Randall sankinto one the physicist faced him earnestly. 

"Randall, there isn't much time now, but I am going to tell you what Ihave been doing in the last two years on this God-forsaken Mainecoast. I have been for those two years in unbroken communication byradio with beings on the planet Mars!

"It was when I still held my physics professorship back at theuniversity that I got first onto the track of the thing. I wasstudying the variation of static vibrations, and in so doing caughtsteady signals--not static--at an unprecedentedly high wave-length. They were dots and dashes of varying length in an entirelyunintelligible code, the same arrangement of them being sent outapparently every few hours. 

"I began to study them and soon ascertained that they could be sentout by no station on earth. The signals seemed to be growing loudereach day, and it suddenly occurred to me that Mars was approachingopposition with earth! I was startled, and kept careful watch. On theday that Mars was closest the earth the signals were loudest. Thereafter, as the red planet receded, they grew weaker. The signalswere from some being or beings on Mars!

"At first I was going to give the news to the world, but saw in timethat I could not. There was not sufficient proof, and a prematurestatement would only wreck my own scientific reputation. So I decidedto study the signals farther until I had irrefutable proof, and toanswer them if possible. I came up here and had this place built, andthe aerial towers and other equipment I wanted set up. Lanier andNelson came with me from the university, and we began our work. 

 * * * * *

"Our chief object was to answer those signals, but it provedheartbreaking work at first. We could not produce a radio wave ofgreat enough length to pierce out through earth's insulating layer andacross the gulf to Mars. We used all the power of our greatwindmill-dynamo hook-ups, but for long could not make it. Every fewhours like clockwork the Martian signals came through. Then at last weheard them repeating one of our own signals. We had been heard!

"For a time we hardly left our instruments. We began the slow andalmost impossible work of establishing intelligent communication withthe Martians. It was with numbers we began. Earth is the third planetfrom the sun and Mars the fourth, so three represented earth and fourstood for Mars. Slowly we felt our way to an exchange of ideas, andwithin months were in steady and intelligent communication with them. 

"They asked us first concerning earth, its climates and seas andcontinents, and concerning ourselves, our races and mechanisms andweapons. Much information we flashed out to them, the language of ourcommunication being English, the elements, of which they had learned, with a mixture of numbers and symbolical dot-dash signals. 

"We were as eager to learn about them. They were somewhat reticent, wefound, concerning their planet and themselves. They admitted thattheir world was a dying one and that their great canals were to makelife possible on it, and also admitted that they were different inbodily form from ourselves. 

"They told us finally that communication like this was tooineffective to give us a clear picture of their world, or vice versa. If we could visit Mars, and then they visit earth, both worlds wouldbenefit by the knowledge of the other. It seemed impossible to me, though I was eager enough for it. But the Martians said that whilespaceships and the like were impossible, there was a way by whichliving beings could flash from earth to Mars and back by radio waves, even as our signals flashed!"

 * * * * *

Randall broke in in amazement. "By radio!" he exclaimed, and Miltonnodded. 

"Yes, so they said, nor did the idea of sending matter by radio seemtoo insane, after all. We send sound, music by radio waves across halfthe world from our broadcasting stations. We send light, pictures, across the world from our television stations. We do that by changingthe wave length of the light-vibrations to make them radio vibrations, flashing them out thus over the world, to receivers which alter theirwave-lengths again and change them back into light-vibrations. 

"Why then could not matter be sent in the same way? Matter, it hasbeen long believed, is but another vibration of the ether, like lightand radiant heat and radio vibrations and the like, having a lowerwave-length than any of the others. Suppose we take matter and byapplying electrical force to it change its wave-length, step it up tothe wave-length of radio vibrations? Then those vibrations can beflashed forth from the sending station to a special receiver that willstep them down again from radio vibrations to matter vibrations. Thusmatter, living or non-living, could be flashed tremendous distances ina second!

 * * * * *

"This the Martians told us, and said they would set up amatter-transmitter and receiver on Mars and would aid and instruct usso that we could set up a similar transmitter and receiver here. Thenpart of us could be flashed out to Mars as radio vibrations by thetransmitter, and in moments would have flashed across the gulf to thered planet and would be transformed back from radio vibrations tomatter-vibrations by the receiver awaiting us there!

"Naturally we agreed enthusiastically to build such amatter-transmitter and receiver, and then, with their instructionssignalled to us constantly, started the work. Weeks it took, but atlast, only yesterday, we finished it. The thing's two cubical chambersare one for the transmitting of matter and the other for itsreception. At a time agreed on yesterday we tested the thing, placinga guinea pig in the transmitting chamber and turning on the actuatingforce. Instantly the animal vanished, and in moments came a signalfrom the Martians saying that they had received it unharmed in theirreceiving chamber. 

"Then we tested it the other way, they sending the same guinea pig tous, and in moments it flashed into being in our receiving chamber. Ofcourse the step-down force in the receiving chamber had to be inoperation, since had it not been at that moment the radio-vibrationsof the animal would have simply flashed on endlessly in endless space. And the same would happen to any of us were we flashed forth and noreceiving chamber turned on to receive us. 

"We signalled the Martians that all tests were satisfactory, and toldthem that on the next night at exactly midnight by our time we wouldflash out ourselves on our first visit to them. They have promised tohave their receiving chamber operating to receive us at that moment, of course, and it is my plan to stay there twenty-four hours, gathering ample proofs of our visit, and then flash back to earth. 

"Nelson must stay here, not only to flash us forth to-night, but aboveall to have the receiving chamber operating to receive us at thedestined moment twenty-four hours later. The force required tooperate it is too great to use for more than a few minutes at a time, so it is necessary above all that that force be turned on and thereceiving chamber ready for us at the moment we flash back. And sinceNelson must stay, and Lanier and I wanted another, we wired you, Randall, in the hope that you would want to go with us on thisventure. And do you?"

 * * * * *

As Milton's question hung, Randall drew a long breath. His eyes wereon the two great cubical chambers, and his brain seemed whirling atwhat he had heard. Then he was on his feet with the others. 

"Go? Could you keep me from going? Why, man, it's the greatestadventure in history!"

Milton grasped his hand, as did Lanier, and then the physicist shot aglance at the square clock on the wall. "Well, there's little enoughtime left us, " he said, "for we've hardly an hour before midnight, andat midnight we must be in that transmitting chamber for Nelson to sendus flashing out!"

Randall could never recall but dimly afterward how that tense hourpassed. It was an hour in which Milton and Nelson went with anxiousfaces and low-voiced comments from one to another of the pieces ofapparatus in the room, inspecting each carefully, from the greatdynamos to the transmitting and receiving chambers, while Lanierquickly got out and made ready the rough khaki suits and equipmentthey were to take. 

It lacked but a quarter-hour of midnight when they had finally donnedthose suits, each making sure that he was in possession of the smallpersonal kit Milton had designated. This included for each a heavyautomatic, a small supply of concentrated foods, and a small case ofdrugs chosen to counteract the rarer atmosphere and lesser gravitywhich Milton had been warned to expect on the red planet. Each hadalso a strong wrist-watch, the three synchronized exactly with thebig laboratory clock. 

 * * * * *

When they had finished checking up on this equipment the clock'slonger hand pointed almost to the figure twelve, and the physicistgestured expressively toward the transmitting chamber. Lanier, though, strode for a moment to one of the laboratory's doors and flung itopen. As Randall gazed out with him they could see far out over thetossing sea, dimly lit by the great canopy of the summer starsoverhead. Right at the zenith among those stars shone brightest acrimson spark. 

"Mars, " said Lanier, his voice a half-whisper. "And they're waitingout there for us now--out there where we'll be in minutes!"

"And if they shouldn't be waiting--their receiving chamber notready--"

But Milton's calm voice came across the room to them: "Zero hour, " hesaid, stepping up into the big transmitting chamber. 

Lanier and Randall slowly followed, and despite himself a slightshudder shook the latter's body as he stepped into the mechanism thatin moments would send him flashing out through the great void asimpalpable ether-vibrations. Milton and Lanier were standing silentbeside him, their eyes on Nelson, who stood watchfully now at the bigswitchboard beside the chambers, his own gaze on the clock. They sawhim touch a stud, and another, and the hum of the great dynamos at theroom's end grew loud as the swarming of angry bees. 

The clock's longer hand was crawling over the last space to cover thesmaller hand. Nelson turned a knob and the battery of great glasstubes broke into brilliant white light, a crackling coming from them. Randall saw the clock's pointer clicking over the last divisions, andas he saw Nelson grip a great switch there came over him a wildimpulse to bolt from the transmitting chamber. But then as histhoughts whirled maelstromlike there came a clang from the clock andNelson flung down the switch in his grasp. Blinding light seemed tobreak from all the chamber onto the three; Randall felt himself hurledinto nothingness by forces titanic, inconceivable, and then knew nomore. 

 * * * * *

Randall came back to consciousness with a humming sound in his earsand with a sharp pain piercing his lungs at every breath. He felthimself lying on a smooth hard surface, and heard the humming stop andbe succeeded by a complete silence. He opened his eyes, drawinghimself to his feet as Milton and Lanier were doing, and stared abouthim. 

He was standing with his two friends inside a cubical metal chamberalmost exactly the same as the one they had occupied in Milton'slaboratory a few moments before. But it was not the same, as theirfirst astounded glance out through its open side told them. 

For it was not the laboratory that lay around them, but a vastconelike hall that seemed to Randall's dazed eyes of dimensionsillimitable. Its dull-gleaming metal walls slanted up for a thousandfeet over their heads, and through a round aperture at the tip farabove and through great doors in the walls came a thin sunlight. Atthe center of the great hall's circular floor stood the two cubicalchambers in one of which the three were, while around the chamberswere grouped masses of unfamiliar-looking apparatus. 

 * * * * *

To Randall's untrained eyes it seemed electrical apparatus of verystrange design, but neither he nor Milton nor Lanier paid it but smallattention in that first breathless moment. They were gazing infascinated horror at the scores of creatures who stood silent amid theapparatus and at its switches, gazing back at them. Those creatureswere erect and roughly man-like in shape, but they were not humanmen. They were--the thought blasted to Randall's brain in thathorror-filled moment--crocodile-men. 

Crocodile-men! It was only so that he could think of them in thatmoment. For they were terribly like great crocodile shapes that hadlearned in some way to carry themselves erect upon their hinder limbs. The bodies were not covered with skin, but with green bony plates. Thelimbs, thick and taloned at their paw-ends, seemed greater in size andstronger, the upper two great arms and the lower two the legs uponwhich each walked, while there was but the suggestion of a tail. Butthe flat head set on the neckless body was most crocodilian of all, with great fanged, hinged jaws projecting forward, and with darkunwinking eyes set back in bony sockets. 

Each of the creatures wore on his torso a gleaming garment like a coatof metal scales, with metal belts in which some had shining tubes. They were standing in groups here and there about the mechanisms, thenearest group at a strange big switch-panel not a half-dozen feet fromthe three men. Milton and Lanier and Randall returned in a tensesilence the unwinking stare of the monstrous beings around them. 

"The Martians!" Lanier's horror-filled exclamation was echoed in thenext instant by Randall's. 

"The Martians! God, Milton! They're not like anything we know--they'rereptilian!"

 * * * * *

Milton's hand clutched his shoulder. "Steady, Randall, " he muttered. "They're terrible enough, God knows--but remember we must seem just asgrotesque to them. "

The sound of their voices seemed to break the great hall's spell ofsilence, and they saw the crocodilian Martians before them turning andspeaking swiftly to each other in low hissing speech-sounds that werequite unintelligible to the three. Then from the small group nearestthem one came forward, until he stood just outside the chamber inwhich they were. 

Randall felt dimly the momentousness of the moment, in which beings ofearth and Mars were confronting each other for the first time in thesolar system's history. The creature before them opened his great jawsand uttered slowly a succession of sounds that for the moment puzzledthem, so different were they from the hissing speech of the others, though with the same sibilance of tone. Again the thing repeated thesounds, and this time Milton uttered an exclamation. 

"He's speaking to us!" he cried. "Trying to speak the English that Itaught them in our communication! I caught a word--listen. .. . "

As the creature repeated the sounds, Randall and Lanier started tohear also vaguely expressed in that hissing voice familiar words:"You--are Milton and--others from--earth?"

Milton spoke very clearly and slowly to the creature: "We are thosefrom earth, " he said. "And you are the Martians with whom we havecommunicated?"

"We are those Martians, " said the other's hissing voice slowly. "These"--he waved a taloned paw toward those behind him--"have chargeof the matter-transmitter and receiver. I am of our ruler's council. "

"Ruler?" Milton repeated. "A ruler of all Mars?"

"Of all Mars, " the other said. "Our name for him would mean in yourwords the Martian Master. I am to take you to him. "

 * * * * *

Milton turned to the other two with face alight with excitement. "These Martians have some supreme ruler they call the Martian Master, "he said quickly; "and we're to go before him. As the first visitorsfrom earth we're of immense importance here. "

As he spoke, the Martian official before them had uttered a hissingcall, and in answer to it a long shape of shining metal raced intothe vast hall and halted beside them. It was like a fifty-footcentipede of metal, its scores of supporting short legs actuated bysome mechanism inside the cylindrical body. There was atransparent-walled control room at the front end of that body, and init a Martian at the controls who snapped open a door from which ametal ladder automatically descended. 

The Martian official gestured with a reptilian arm toward the ladder, and Milton and Lanier and Randall moved carefully out of thecube-chamber and across the floor to it, each of their steps beingmade a short leap forward by the lesser gravity of the smaller planet. They climbed up into the centipede-machine's control room, their guidefollowing, and then as the door snapped shut, the operator of thething pulled and turned the knob in his grasp and the long machinescuttled forward with amazing smoothness and speed. 

In a moment it was out of the building and into the feeble sunlight ofa broad metal-paved street. About them lay a Martian city, seen bytheir eager eyes for the first time. It was a city whose structureswere giant metal cones like that from which they had just come, thoughnone seemed as large as that titanic one. Throngs of the hideouscrocodilian Martians were moving busily to and fro in the streets, while among them there scuttled and flashed numbers of thecentipede-machines. 

 * * * * *

As their strange vehicle raced along, Randall saw that the conelikestructures were for the most part divided into many levels, and thatinside some could be glimpsed ranks of great mechanisms and hurryingMartians tending them. Away to their right across the vast forest ofcones that was the city the sun's little disk was shining, and heglimpsed in that direction higher ground covered with a vast tangle ofbright crimson jungle that sloped upward from a great, half-glimpsedwaterway. 

The Martian beside them saw the direction of his gaze and leanedtoward him. "No Martians live there, " he hissed slowly. "Martians liveonly in cities where canals meet. "

"Then there's no life in those crimson jungles?" Randall asked, repeating the question a moment later more slowly. 

"No Martians there, but life--living things, " the other told him, searching for words. "But not intelligent, like Martians and you. "

He turned to gaze ahead, then pointed. "The Martian Master's cone, " hehissed. 

The three saw that at the end of the broad metal street down whichtheir vehicle was racing there loomed another titanic cone-structure, fully as large as the mighty one in which they first found themselves. As the centipede-machine swept up to its great door-opening andhalted, they descended to the metal paving and then followed theirreptilian guide through the opening. 

 * * * * *

They found themselves in a great hall in which scores of the Martianswere coming and going. At the hall's end stood a row of what seemedguards, Martians grasping shining tubes such as they had alreadyglimpsed. These gave way to allow their passage when their conductoruttered a hissing order, and then they were moving down a shorter hallat whose end also were guards. As these sprang aside before them, agreat door of massive metal they guarded moved softly upward, disclosing a mighty circular hall or room inside. Their crocodilianguide turned to them. 

"The hall of the Martian Master, " he hissed. 

They passed inside with him. The great hall seemed to extend upward tothe giant cone's tip, thin light coming down from an opening there. Upon the dull metal of its looming walls were running friezes oflighter metal, grotesque representations of reptilian shapes that theycould but vaguely glimpse. Around the walls stood rank after rank ofguards. 

At the hall's center was a low dias, and in a semicircle around andbehind it stood a half-hundred great crocodilian shapes. Randallguessed even at the moment that they were the council of which theirconductor had named himself a member. But like Milton and Lanier, hehad eyes in that first moment only for the dais itself. For on itwas--the Martian Master. 

Randall heard Milton and Lanier choke with the horror that shook hisown heart and brain as he gazed. It was not simply another greatcrocodilian shape that sat upon that dais. It was a monstrous thingformed by the joining of three of the great reptilian bodies! Threedistinct crocodile-like bodies sitting close together upon a metalseat, that had but a single great head. A great, grotesque crocodilianhead that bulged backward and to either side, and that rested on thethree thick short necks that rose from the triple body! And that head, that triple-bodied thing, was living, its unwinking eyes gazing at thethree men!

 * * * * *

The Martian Master! Randall felt his brain reel as he gazed at thatmind-shattering thing. The Martian Master--this great head with threebodies! Reason told Randall, even as he strove for sanity, that thething was but logical, that even on earth biologists had formedmultiple-headed creatures by surgery, and that the Martians had doneso to combine in one great head, one great brain, the brains of threebodies. Reason told him that the great triple brain inside thatbulging head needed the bloodstreams of all three bodies to nourishit, must be a giant intellect indeed, one fitted to be the supremeMartian Master. But reason could not overcome the horror that chokedhim as he gazed at the awful thing. 

A hissing voice sounding before him made him aware that the MartianMaster was speaking. 

"You are the Earth-beings with whom we communicated, and whom weinstructed to build a matter-transmitter and receiver on earth?" theslow voice asked. "You have come safely to Mars by means of thatstation?"

"We have come safely. " Milton's voice was shaken and he could find noother words. 

"That is well. Long had we desired to have such a station built onearth, since with it there to flash back and forth between the twoworlds is easy. You have come, then, to learn of this world and totake back what you learn to your races?"

"That is why we came. " Milton said, more steadily. "We want to stayonly hours on this first visit, and then flash back to earth as wecame. "

 * * * * *

The head's awful eyes seemed to consider them. "But when do you intendto go back?" its strange voice asked. "Unless the one at your earthstation has its receiver operating at the right moment you will simplyflash on endlessly as radio waves--will be annihilated. "

Milton found the courage to smile. "We started from earth at ourmidnight exactly, and at midnight exactly twenty-four earth hourslater, we are to flash back and the receiver will be awaiting us. "

There was silence when he had said that, a silence that seemed toRandall's strained mind to have become suddenly tense, sinister. Thegreat triple-bodied creature before them considered them again, itseyes moving over them, and when it again spoke the hissing words camevery slowly. 

"Twenty-four earth hours, " it said; "and then your receiver on earthwill be awaiting you. That time we can measure to the moment, and thatis well. For it is not you three Earth-beings who will flash back toearth when that moment comes! It will be Martians, the first of ourMartian masses who have waited for ages for that moment and who willbegin then our conquest of the earth!

"Yes, Earth-beings, our great plan comes to its end now at last! Atlast! Age on age, prisoned on this dying, arid world, we have desiredthe earth that by right of power shall be ours, have sought for agesto communicate with its beings. You finally heard us, you hearkened tous, you built the matter-transmitting and receiving station on earththat was the one thing needed for our plan. For when thematter-receiver of that station is turned on in twenty-four of yourhours, and ready to receive matter flashes from here, it will be thefirst of our millions who will flash at last to earth!

"I, the Martian Master, say it. Those first to go shall seize thatmatter-receiver on earth when first they appear there, shall buildother and larger receivers, and through them within days all ourMartian hordes shall have been flashed to earth! Shall have poured outover it and conquered with our weapons your weak races ofEarth-beings, who cannot stand before us, and whose world you havedelivered at last into our hands!"

For a moment, when the great monster's hissing voice had ceased, Milton and Randall and Lanier gazed toward it as though petrified, thewhole unearthly scene spinning about them. And then, through the thicksilence, the thin sound of Milton's voice:

"Our world--our earth--delivered to the Martians, and by us! God--no!"

With that last cry of agonized comprehension and horror, Milton didwhat surely had never any in the great hall expected, leaped onto thedais with a single spring toward the Martian Master! Randall heard ahundred wild hissing cries break from about him, saw the crocodilianforms of guards and council rushing forward even as he and Laniersprang after Milton, and then glimpsed shining tubes levelled fromwhich brilliant shafts of dazzling crimson light or force werestabbing toward them!

 * * * * *

To Randall the moment that followed was but a split-second flash andwhirl of action. As his earthly muscles took him forward with Lanierafter Milton in a great leap to the dais, he was aware of thebrilliant red rays stabbing behind him closely, and knew that only thetremendous size of his leap had taken him past them. In the succeedinginstant he was made aware of what he had escaped, for thehastily-loosed rays struck squarely a group of three or four Martianguards rushing to the dais from the opposite side, and they vanishedfrom view with a sharp detonation as though clicked out of existence!

Randall was not to know then, that the red rays were ones thatannihilated matter by neutralizing or damping the matter-vibrations inthe ether. But he did know that no more rays were loosed, for by thenhe and Milton and Lanier were on the dais and were wrapped in ahurricane combat with the guards that had rushed between them and theMartian Master. 

Gleaming fangs--great scaled forms--reaching talons--it was all a wildphantasmagoria of grotesque forms spinning around him as he struckwith all the power of his earthly muscles and felt crocodilian formsstaggering and going down beneath his frenzied blows. He heard theroar of an automatic close beside him in the melee as Miltonremembered at last through the red haze of his fury the weapon hecarried, but before either Randall or Lanier could reach their ownweapons a new wave of crocodilian forms had poured onto them that bysheer pressing weight held them helpless, to be disarmed. 

 * * * * *

Hissing orders sounded, the arms and legs of the three were tightlygrasped by great taloned paws, and the masses of Martians about themmelted back from the dais. Held each by two great creatures, Miltonand Randall and Lanier faced again the triple-bodied Martian Master, who in all that wild moment of struggle appeared not to have changedhis position. The big monster's black eyes stared unmovedly down atthem. 

"You Earth-beings seem of lower intelligence even than we thought, "his hissing voice informed them. "And those weapons--crude, verycrude. "

Milton, his face set, spoke back: "It may be that you will find humanweapons of some power if your hordes reach earth, " he said. 

"But what compared with the power of ours?" the other asked coldly. "And since our scientists even now devise new weapons to annihilatethe earth's races, I think they would be glad of three of those racesto experiment with now. The one use we can make of you, certainly. "

The creature turned its bulging head a little towards the guards whoheld the three men, and uttered a brief hissing order. Instantly thesix Martians, grasping the three tightly, marched them across thegreat hall and through a different door than that by which they hadentered. 

They were taken down a narrow corridor that turned sharply twice asthey went on. Randall saw that it was lit by squares inset in thewalls that glowed with crimson light. It came to him as they marchedon that night must be upon the Martian city without, since the sun hadbeen sinking when they had crossed it in the centipede-machine. 

 * * * * *

Through what seemed an ante-room they were taken, and then into a longhall instantly recognizable as a laboratory. There were many glowingsquares illuminating it, and narrow windows high in the wall gave thema glimpse of the city outside, a pattern of crimson lights. Long metaltables and racks filled the big room's farther end, while along thewalls were ranged shining mechanisms of unfamiliar and grotesqueappearance. Fully a score of the crocodilian Martians were busy in theroom, some intent on their work at the racks and tables, othersoperating some of the strange machines. 

The guards conducted the three to an open space by the wall, below oneof the high window-openings and between two great cylindricalmechanisms. Then, while five of their number held the three menprisoned in that space by the threat of their levelled ray-tubes, theother moved toward one of the busy Martian scientists and held withhim a brief interchange of hissing speech. 

Milton leaned to whisper to the other two: "We've got to get out ofthis while we're still living, " he whispered. "You heard the MartianMaster--in constructing that matter-receiver on earth, we've opened adoor through which all the Martian millions will pour onto our world!"

"It's useless, Milton, " said Randall dully. "Even if we got clear ofthis the Martians will be at their matter-transmitter in hordes whenthe moment comes to flash back to earth. "

"I know that, but we've got to try, " the other insisted. "If we orsome of us could get clear of this, we might in some way hide near thematter-transmitter until the moment came and then fight to it. "

"But how to get out of the hands of these, even?" asked Lanier, nodding toward the alert guards before them. 

 * * * * *

"There's but one way, " Milton whispered swiftly. "Our earthly muscleswould enable us, I think, to get through this window-opening above usin a leap, if we had a moment's chance. Well, whichever of us theytake to experiment with or examine first, must make a struggle ordisturbance that will turn the guards' attention for a moment and givethe other two a chance to make the attempt!"

"One to stay and the other two to get away. .. . " Randall said slowly;but Milton's tense whisper interrupted:

"It's the only way, and even then a thousand to one chance! But it'swe who have opened this gate for the Martian invasion of our world andit's we who must--"

Before he could finish, the approach of hissing voices told them thatthe leader of the six guards and the Martian who seemed the chief ofthe experimenters in the hall were nearing them. The three men stoodsilent and tense as the two crocodilian monsters stopped before them. The scientist, who carried in his metal-belt, instead of a ray-tube acompact case of instruments, surveyed them as though in curiosity. 

He came closer, his quick reptilian eyes taking in with evidentinterest every feature of their bodily appearance. Intuitively thethree knew that one of them was to be chosen for a first investigationby the Martian scientists, and that that one would have not even theslender hope of escape open to the other two. A strange lottery oflife and death!

 * * * * *

Randall saw the creature's gaze turn from one to another of them, andthen heard the hiss of his voice as he pointed a taloned paw towardMilton. Instantly two of the guards had seized Milton and had jerkedhim out from the wall, the other guards holding back Randall andLanier with threatening tubes. It was upon Milton that the fatalchoice had fallen!

Randall and Lanier made together a half-movement forward, but Milton, a tense message in his eyes, forced them back. The guards who held thephysicist led him, at the direction of the Martian scientist, toward agreat upright frame at the room's far end, upon which were clustered ascore of dial-indicators. From these flexible cords led; and now thescientists began attaching these by clips to various spots on Milton'sbody. Some mechanical examination of his bodily characteristics wereapparently to be made. Milton shot suddenly a glance at the two by thewall, and his head nodded in an almost imperceptible signal. Themuscles of Lanier and Randall tensed. 

Then abruptly Milton seemed to go mad. He shouted aloud in a terriblevoice, and at the same moment tore from him the cords just attached, his fists striking out then at the amazed Martians around him. As theyleaped back from that sudden explosion of activity and sound onMilton's part the guards before Randall and Lanier whirledinstinctively for an instant toward it. And in that instant the twohad leaped. 

 * * * * *

It was upward they leaped, with all the force of their earthlymuscles, toward the big window-opening a half-dozen feet in the wallabove them. Like released steel springs they sat up, and Randall heardthe thump of their feet as they struck the opening's sill, heard wildcries suddenly coming from beneath them, as the guards turned backtoward them. Crimson rays clove up like light toward them, but theinstant's surprise had been enough, and in it they had leaped on andthrough the opening, into the outside night!

As they shot downward and struck the metal paving outside, Randallheard a wild babble of cries from inside. A moment he and Lanier gazedfrenziedly around them, then were running with great leaps along thebase of the building from which they had just escaped. 

In the darkness of night the Martian city stretched away to theirright, its massive dark cone-structures outlined by points of glowingruddy light here and there upon them. Beside the city's metal streetswere illuminated by the brilliant field of stars overhead and by thesoft light of the two moons, one much larger than the other, thatmoved among those stars. 

Along the street crocodilian Martians were coming and going still, though in small numbers, there being but few in sight in the dim-litstreet's length. Lanier pointed ahead as they leaped onward. 

"Straight onward, Randall!" he jerked. "There seem fewer of theMartians this way!"

"But the great cone of the matter-station is the other way!" Randallexclaimed. 

"We can't risk making for it now!" cried the other. "We've got to keepclear of them until the alarm is over. Hear them now?"

For even as they leaped forward a rising clamor of hissing cries andrush of feet was coming from behind as scores of Martians poured outinto the darkness from the great cone-building. The two fugitives hadpassed by then from the shadow of the mighty structure, and as theyran along the broad metal street toward the shadow of the next cone, through the light of the moons above, they heard higher cries and thenglimpsed narrow shafts of crimson force cleaving the night aroundthem. 

 * * * * *

Randall, as the deadly rays drove past him, heard the low detonatingsound made by their destruction of the air in their path, and theinrush of new air. But in the misty and uncertain moonlight the rayscould not be loosed accurately, and before they could be sweptsidewise to annihilate the two fleeing men they had gained, with alast great leap, the shadow of the next building. 

On they ran, the clatter of the Martian pursuit growing more noisybehind them. Randall heard Lanier gasping with each great leap, andfelt himself at every breath a knife of pain stabbing through hislungs, the rarified atmosphere of the red planet taking its toll. Again from the darkness behind them the crimson rays clove, but thistime were wide of their mark. 

With every moment the clamor of pursuit seemed growing louder, thealarm spreading out over the Martian city and arousing it. As theyraced past cone after cone, Randall knew even the increased power oftheir muscles could not long aid them against the exhaustion which thethin air was imposing on them. His thoughts spun for a moment toMilton, in the laboratory behind, and then back to their own desperateplight. 

Abruptly shapes loomed in the misty light before them! A group ofthree great Martians, reptilian shapes that had been coming towardthem and had stopped for an instant in amazement at sight of therunning pair. There was no time to halt themselves, to evade thethree, and with a mutual instinct Lanier and Randall seized togetherthe last expedient open to them. They ran straight forward toward theastounded three, and when a half-score feet from them, leaped with alltheir force upward and toward them, their tensed bodies flying throughthe air with feet outstretched before them. 

Then they had struck the group of three with feet-foremost, and withthe impetus of that great leap had knocked them sprawling to this sideand that, while with a supreme effort the two kept their balance andleaped on. The cries of the three added to the din behind them as theythrew themselves forward. 

 * * * * *

They flung themselves past a last cone building to halt for an instantin utter amazement despite the nearing pursuit. Before them were nomore streets and structures, but a huge smooth-flowing waterway! Itgleamed in the moonlight and lay at right angles across their path, seeming to flow along the Martian city's edge. 

"A canal!" cried Lanier. "It's one of the canals that meet at thiscity and flow around it! We're trapped--we've reached the city'sedge!"

"Not yet!" Randall gasped. "Look!"

As he pointed to the left Lanier shot a glance there; and then both ofthem were running in that direction, along the smooth metal pavingthat bordered the mighty canal. They came to what Randall had seen, amighty metal arch that soared out over the waterway to its oppositeside. A bridge!

They were on it, were racing up the smooth incline of it. Randallglanced back as they reached the arch's summit. From that height thecity stretched far away behind them, a lace of crimson lights in thenight. He glimpsed the gleam of the giant waterway that encircled thecity completely, one that was fed by other canals from far away thatemptied into it, the great city's vital water-supply brought thus fromthis world's melting polar snows. 

There were moving lights behind now, too, pouring out onto the metalpaving by the waterway, moving to and fro as though in confusion, witha babel of hissing cries. It was not until Randall and Lanier wererunning down the descending incline of the great arched bridge, though, that the lights and shouts of their pursuers began to move upon that bridge after them. 

 * * * * *

Running off the bridge's smooth way, the two found themselvesstumbling on through the darkness over more metal paving, and thenover soft ground. There were no lights or buildings or sounds of anysort on this farther side of the great waterway. A tall dark wallseemed suddenly to loom up out of the darkness some distance ahead ofthe two. 

"The crimson jungle!" Randall cried. "The jungles we glimpsed from thecity! It's a chance to hide!"

They raced toward the protecting blackness of that wall of vegetation. They reached it, flung themselves inside, just as the pursuingMartians, a mass of running crocodilian shapes and of great racingcentipede-machines, swept up over the bridge's arch behind. A momentthe two halted in the thick vegetation's shelter, gasping for breath, then were moving forward through the jungle's denser darkness. 

Thick about them and far above them towered the masses of strangetrees and plant life through which they made their way. Randall couldsee but dimly the nature of these plant-forms, but could make out thatthey were grotesque and unearthly in appearance, all leafless, andwith masses of thin tendrils branching from them instead of leaves. Herealized that it was only beside the arid planet's great canals thatthis profusion of plant life had sufficient moisture for existence, and that it was the broad bands of jungle bordering the canals thathad made the latter visible to earth's astronomers. 

 * * * * *

Lanier and he halted for a moment to listen. The thick jungle aboutthem seemed quite silent. But from behind there came through it avague tumult of hissing calls; and then, as they glimpsed red flashesfar behind, they heard the crashing of great masses of the leaflesstrees. 

"The rays!" whispered Lanier. "They're beating through the jungle withthem and the centipede-machines after us!"

They paused no more, but pushed on through the thick growths withrenewed urgency. Now and then, as they passed through small clearings, Randall glimpsed overhead the fast-moving nearer moon and slowersailing farther moon of Mars, moving across the steady stars. In someof these clearings they saw, too, strange great openings burrowed inthe ground as though by some strange animal. 

The crashing clamor of the Martians beating the jungle behind wascoming close, ever closer, and as they came to still another misty-litclearing, Lanier paused, with face white and tense. 

"They're closing in on us!" he said. "They're hunting us down bybeating the jungle with those centipede-machines, and even if weescape them we're getting farther from the city and the matter-stationeach moment!"

Randall's eyes roved desperately around the clearing; and then, asthey fell on a group of the great burrowed openings that seemedpresent everywhere about them, he uttered an exclamation. 

"These holes! We can hide in one until they've passed over us, andthen steal back to the city!"

Lanier's eyes lit. "It's a chance!"

 * * * * *

They sprang toward the openings. They were each of some four feetdiameter, extending indefinitely downward as though the mouths oftunnels. In a moment Randall was lowering himself into one, Lanierafter him. The tunnel in which they were, they found, curved to oneside a few feet below the surface. They crawled down this curve untilthey were out of sight of the opening above. They crouched silent, then, listening. 

There came down to them the dull, distant clamor of thecentipede-machines crashing through the jungle, cutting a way withrays, their clamor growing ever louder. Then Randall, who was lowestin the tunnel, turned suddenly as there came to him a strange rustlingsound from _beneath_ him. It was as though some crawling or creepingthing was moving in the tunnel below them!

He grasped the arm of Lanier, beside and a little above him, to warnhim, but the words he was about to whisper never were uttered. For atthis moment a big shapeless living thing seemed to flash up towardthem through the darkness from beneath, cold ropelike tentaclesgripped both tightly; and then in an instant they were being draggedirresistibly down into the lightless tunnel's depths!

 * * * * *

As they were pulled swiftly downward into the tunnel by the tentaclesthat grasped them an involuntary cry of horror came from Randall andLanier alike. They twisted frantically in the cold grip that heldthem, but found it of the quality of steel. And as Randall twisted init to strike frantically down through the darkness at whatever thingof horror held them, his clenched fist met but the cold smooth skinof some big, soft-bodied creature!

Down--down--remorselessly they were being drawn farther into the blackdepths of the tunnel by the great thing crawling down below them. Again and again the two twisted and struck, but could not shake itshold. In sheer exhaustion they ceased to struggle, dragged helplesslyfarther down. 

Was it minutes or hours, Randall wondered afterward, of that horribleprogress downward, that passed before they glimpsed light beneath? Afeeble glow, hardly discernible, it was, and as they went lower stillhe saw that it was caused by the tunnel passing through a strata ofradio-active rock that gave off the faint light. In that light theyglimpsed for the first time the horror dragging them downward. 

It was a huge worm creature! A thing like a giant angleworm, threefeet or more in thickness and thrice that in length, its great bodysoft and cold and worm-like. From the end nearest them projected twolong tentacles with which it had gripped the two men and was draggingthem down the tunnel after it! Randall glimpsed a mouth-aperture inthe tentacled end of the worm body also, and two scarlike marks aboveit, placed like eyes, although eyes the monstrous thing had not. 

 * * * * *

But a moment they glimpsed it and then were in darkness again as thetunnel passed through the radio-active strata and lower. The horror ofthat moment's glimpse, though, made them strike out in blindrepulsion, but relentlessly the creature dragged them after it. 

"God!" It was Lanier's panting cry as they were dragged on. "This wormmonster--we're hundreds of feet below the surface!"

Randall sought to reply, but his voice choked. The air about them wasclose and damp, with an overpowering earthy smell. He feltconsciousness leaving him. 

A gleam of soft light--they were passing more radio-active patches. Hefelt the wild convulsive struggles of Lanier against the thing; andthen suddenly the tunnel ended, debouched into a far-stretching, low-ceilinged cavity. It was feebly illuminated by radio-activepatches here and there in walls and ceiling, and as the monster thatheld them halted on entering the cavity, Randall and Lanier lay in itsgrip and stared across the weird place with intensified horror. 

For it was swarming with countless worm monsters! All were like theone who held them, thick long worm bodies with projecting tentaclesand with black eyeless faces. They were crawling to and fro in thiscavern far beneath the surface, swarming in hordes around and overeach other, pouring in and out of the awful place from countlesstunnels that led upward and downward from it!

 * * * * *

A world of worm monsters, beneath the surface of the Martian jungles!As Randall stared across that swarming, dim-lit cave of horror, physically sick at sight of it, he remembered the countless tunnelopenings they had glimpsed in their flight through the jungle, andremembered the remark of the Martian who had first guided them acrossthe city, that in the jungles were living things, of a sort. Thesewere the things, worm monsters whose unthinkable networks of tunnelsand burrows formed beneath the surface a veritable worm world!

"Randall!" It was Lanier's thick exclamation. "Randall--thosescar-marks on their--faces--you see--?"

"See?"

"Those marks! These creatures had eyes once but must have been forceddown here by the Martians. These may once have been--ages ago--human!"

At that thought Randall felt horror overcoming his senses. He wasaware that the great worm monster holding them was dragging themforward through the cavern, that others of the swarms there werecrowding around them, feeling them blindly with their tentacles, helping to drag them forward. 

Half-carried and half-dragged they went, scores of tentacles nowholding them, great worm shapes crawling forward on all sides of themand accompanying them along the cavern's length. He glimpsed wormmonsters here and there emerging from the upward tunnels with massesof strange plant stuff in their grasp that others blindly devoured. His senses reeled from the suffocating air, the great cavity being buta half-score feet in height, burrowed from the damp earth by thesenumberless things. 

 * * * * *

The faint, strange light of the radio-active patches showed him thatthey were approaching the cavern's end. Tunnels opened from its end asfrom all its walls and floor, and into one Randall was dragged by thecreatures, one before and one behind, grasping him, and Lanier beingbrought behind him in the same way. In the close tunnel the heavy airwas deadly, and he was but partly conscious when again, after momentsof crawling along it, he felt himself dragged out into another cavern. 

This earth-walled cavity, though, seemed to extend farther than thefirst, though of the same height as the first and with a fewradio-active illuminating patches. In it seethed and swarmed literallyhundreds on hundreds of the worm monsters, a sea of great crawlingbodies. Randall and Lanier saw that they were being carried anddragged now toward the farther end of this larger cavity. 

As they approached it, pushing through the swarming creatures who feltthem with inquisitive tentacles as their captors took them forward, the two men saw that a great shape was looming up in the faint lightat the cave's far end. In moments they were close enough to discernits nature, and a horror and awe filled them at sight of it moreintense than they had yet felt. 

For the looming shape was a huge earthen image or statue of a worm! Itwas shaped with a childish crudeness from the solid earth, a giantearthen worm shape whose body looped across the cave's end, and whosetentacled head or front end was reared upward to the cavity's roof. Before this awful earthen shape was a section of the cave's floorhigher than the rest, and on it a great crudely shaped rectangularearthen block. 

"Lanier--that shape!" whispered Randall in his horror. "That earthenimage, made by these creatures--it's the worm god they've made forthemselves!"

"A worm god!" Lanier repeated, staring toward it as they were draggednearer. "Then that block. .. . "

"Its altar!" Randall exclaimed. "These things have some dim spark ofintelligence or memory! They're brought us here to--"

 * * * * *

Before he could finish, the clutching tentacles of the worm monstersabout them had dragged them up onto the raised floor beside the block, beneath the looming earthen worm shape. There they glimpsed for thefirst time in the faint light another who stood there held tightly bythe tentacles of two worm monsters. It was a Martian!

The big crocodilian shape was apparently a prisoner like themselves, captured and brought down from above. His reptilian eyes surveyedLanier and Randall quickly as they were dragged up and held besidehim, but he took no other interest. To the two men, at the moment, itseemed that his great crocodilian shape was human, almost, so muchmore man-like was it than the grotesque worm monsters before them. 

With a half-dozen of the creatures holding the two men and the Martiantightly, another great worm monster crawled to the edge of the raisedearth floor in front of the giant worm god's image, and then reared upthe first third of his thick body into the air. By then the great, faint-lit cavity stretching before them was filled with countlessnumbers of the monsters, pouring into it from all the tunnels thatopened into it from above and below, packing it thick with theirgrotesque bodies as far as the eye could reach in the dim light. 

They were seething and crawling in that great mass; but as the wormmonster on the elevation upreared, all in the cavity seemed suddenlyto quiet. Then the upreared eyeless thing began to move his longtentacles. Very slowly at first he waved them back and forth, andslowly the masses of monsters in the cavity, all turned by some sensetoward him, did likewise, the cavity becoming a forest of upraisedtentacles waving rhythmically back and forth in unison with those ofthe leader. 

 * * * * *

Back and forth--back and forth--Randall felt caught in some torturingnightmare as he watched the countless tentacle-feelers waving thusfrom one side to the other. It was a ceremony, he knew--some strangerite springing perhaps from dim memory alone, that these worm monsterscarried out thus before the looming shape of their worm god. Only thesix that held the three captives never relaxed their grip. 

Still on and on went the strange and senseless rite. By then theclose, damp air of that cavity far beneath Mars' surface was sinkingRandall and Lanier deeper into a half-consciousness. The Martianbeside them never moved or spoke. The upstretched tentacles of theleader and of the great worm horde before him never ceased swayingrhythmically from side to side. 

Randall, half-hypnotized by those swaying tentacles and butsemi-conscious by then, could only estimate afterward how long thatgrotesque rite went on. Hours it must have endured, he knew, hours inwhich each opening of his eyes revealed only the dimly-illuminatedcavern, the worm monsters that filled it, the forest of tentacleswaving in unison. It was only toward the end of those hours that henoticed vaguely that the tentacles were waving faster and faster. 

And as the tentacles of leader and worm horde waved alike ever moreswiftly an atmosphere of growing excitement and expectation seemed tohold the horde. At last the upstretched feelers were whipping back andforth almost too swiftly for the eye to follow. Then abruptly the wormleader ceased the motion himself, and while the horde before himcontinued it, turned and crawled to the three captives. 

 * * * * *

In an instant, at though in answer to a second command, the two wormmonsters who held the Martian dragged him forward toward the greatearthen block before the worm god's image. Two others of the creaturescame from the side, and the four swiftly stretched the Martian flat onthe block's top, each of the four grasping with their tentacles one ofhis four taloned limbs. They seemed to hesitate then, the worm leaderbeside them, the tentacles of the horde waving swiftly still. 

Abruptly the tentacles of the leader flashed up as though in a signal. There was a dull ripping sound, and in that moment Randall and Laniersaw the Martian on the block torn literally limb from limb by the fourgreat worm monsters who had held his four limbs!

The tentacles of the horde waved suddenly with increased, excitedswiftness at that. Randall shrank in horror. 

"They've brought us here for that!" he cried. "To sacrifice us on thataltar that way to their worm god!"

But Lanier too had cried out, appalled, as he saw that awfulsacrifice, and both strained madly against the grip of the wormcreatures. Their struggles were in vain, and then in answer to anotherunspoken command the two monsters that held Randall were dragging himalso to the earthen altar!

He felt himself gripped by the four great creatures around the block, felt as he struggled with his last strength that he was beingstretched out on the block, each of the four at one of its cornersgrasping one of his limbs. He heard Lanier's mad cries as though froma great distance, glimpsed as he was held thus on his back the greatshape of the earthen worm god reared over him, and then glimpsed theleader of the monsters rearing beside him. 

 * * * * *

The dull sound of the swift-waving tentacles of the horde came to him, there was a tense moment of agony of waiting, and then the tentaclesof the leader flashed up in the signal!

But at the same moment Randall felt his limbs released by the fourmonsters that had held them! There seemed sudden wild confusion in thegreat cave. The strange rite broke off; the horde of worm monsterscrawled frantically this way and that in it. Randall slipped off theblock; staggered to his feet. 

The worm monsters in the cave were swarming toward the downward tunnelopenings! The two captives forgotten, the creatures were pouring incrawling, fighting swarms toward those openings. And then, as Randalland Lanier stared stupefied, there came a red flash from one of theupward tunnels and a brilliant crimson ray stabbed down and mowed apath of annihilation in the cave's earthen side!

The two heard great thumping sounds from above, saw the tunnelsleading from above becoming suddenly many times greater in size as redrays flashed down along them to gouge the tunnel's walls. Then downfrom those enlarged tunnels there were bursting long shining shapes, great centipede-machines crawling down the tunnels which their raysmade larger before them! And as the centipede-machines burst down intothe cavern their crimson rays stabbed right and left to cut paths ofannihilation among the worms. 

"The Martians!" Lanier cried. "They didn't find us above--they knew wemust have been taken by these things--and they've come down after us!"

 * * * * *

"Back, Lanier!" Randall shouted. "Quick, before they see us, behindthis--"

As he spoke he was jerking Lanier with him behind the looming earthenstatue of the great worm god. Crouched there between the statue andthe cave's wall they were hidden precariously from the view of thosein the cavern. And now that cavern had become a scene of horrorunthinkable as the centipede-machines pouring down into it blasted thefrantically crawling worm monsters with their rays. 

The worm monsters attempted no resistance, but sought only to escapeinto their downward tunnels, and in moments those not caught by therays had vanished in the openings. But the centipede-machines, afterracing swiftly around the cavity, were following them, were going downinto those downward tunnels also, their rays blasting down ahead ofeach to make the tunnel large enough for them to follow. 

In a moment all but one had vanished down into the openings, theremaining one having its front or head jammed in one of the openingsfrom the failure of its operator to blast a large enough openingbefore him. As Lanier and Randall watched tensely they saw themachine's control room door open and a Martian descend. He inspectedthe tunnel opening in which his vehicle was jammed, then with a handray-tube began to disintegrate the earth around that opening to freehis machine. 

Randall clutched his companion's arm. "That machine!" he whispered. "If we could capture it, it would give us a chance to get back to thecity--to Milton and the matter-transmitter!"

Lanier started, then nodded swiftly. "We'll chance it, " he whispered. "For our twenty-four hours here must be almost up. "

 * * * * *

They hesitated a moment, then crept forward from behind the greatearthen statue. The Martian had his back to them, his attention on thefreeing of his mechanism. Across the dim-lit cavern they crept softly, and were within a dozen feet of the Martian when some sound made himwheel quickly to confront them with the deadly tube. But even as hewhirled the two had leaped. 

The force of their leap sent them flying through that dozen feet ofspace to strike the Martian at the moment his tube levelled. Onehissing call he uttered as they struck him, and then with all hisstrength Lanier had grasped the crocodilian body and bent it backward. Something in it snapped, and the Martian collapsed limply. The twolooked wildly around. 

Nothing showed that the Martian's call had been heard, and after amoment's glance that showed the head of the centipede machine alreadyfreed, they were clambering up into its control room, closing thedoor. Randall seized the knob with which he had seen the machinesoperated. As he pulled it toward him the machine moved across thetunnel opening and raced smoothly over the cavern's floor. As heturned the knob the machine turned swiftly in the same direction. 

He headed the long mechanism toward one of the upward-curving tunnelswhich the Martians had blasted larger in descending. They were almostto it when there flashed up into the cavity from one of the downwardtunnel openings a centipede-machine, and then another, and another. The Martians in their transparent-windowed control rooms took in at aglance the dead crocodilian on the floor, and then the three greatmachines were darting toward that of Randall and Lanier. 

"The Martian we killed!" Randall cried. "They heard his call and arecoming after us!"

"Turn to the wall!" Lanier shouted to him. "I have the rays--"

 * * * * *

At that moment there was a clicking beside Randall and he glimpsedLanier pulling forth two small grips he had found, then saw that twocrimson rays were stabbing from tubes in their machine's front towardthe others even as their own rays darted back. The beams that had beenloosed toward them grazed past them as Randall whirled their machineto the wall, and he saw one of the three attacking mechanisms vanishas Lanier's beams struck it. 

Around--back--with instinctive, lightninglike motions he whirled theircentipede-machine in the great dim-lit cave as the two remaining onesleapt again to the attack. Their rays shot right and left to catch thetwo men's vehicle in a trap of death, and as Randall swung their ownmechanism straight ahead he glimpsed at the cavern's far end the greatearthen worm god still upreared. 

On either side of them the red beams burned as they leapt forward, butas though running a gauntlet of death Randall kept the machine racingforward in the succeeding second until the two others loomed on eitherside of it. Then Lanier's beams were driving in turn to right and leftof them and the two vanished as though by magic as they were struck. 

"Up to the surface!" Lanier cried, his eyes on the glowing dial of hiswrist-watch. "We've been held hours here--we've but a half-hour ormore before earth midnight!"

 * * * * *

Randall sent their machine racing again toward one of the upwardtunnels, and as the long mechanism began to climb smoothly up thedarkness he heard Lanier agonizing beside him. 

"God, if we have only enough time to get to that matter-transmitterbefore the Martians start flashing to earth through it!"

"But Milton?" Randall cried. "We don't know whether he's alive ordead! We can't leave him!"

"We must!" said Lanier solemnly. "Our duty's to the earth now, man, tothe world that we alone can save from the Martian invasion andconquest! At the hour of twelve Nelson will have the matter-receiverturned on and at that hour the Martian will start flashing toearth--unless we prevent!"

Suddenly Randall grasped the knob in his hands more tightly as lightshowed above them. They had been climbing upward through the enlargedtunnel at their machine's highest speed, and now as the tunnel curvedthe light grew stronger. Suddenly they were emerging into the thinsunlight of the Martian day. 

In the crimson jungle about them were many Martians, milling excitedlyto and fro, and other centipede-machines that were blasting their waydown through tunnels to the worm world beneath. 

Randall and Lanier, breathless, crouched low in thetransparent-windowed control room as they sent their mechanism racingthrough this scene of swarming activity. Both gasped as one of thecentipede-machines clashed against their own in passing, its Martiandriver turning to stare after them. But there came no alarm, and in amoment they had passed out of the swarm of Martians and machines andwere heading through the jungle in the direction of the city. 

 * * * * *

Through the weird red vegetation their mechanism raced with them, Randall holding it at its highest speed, and in minutes they came outof the jungle and were racing over the clear space between it and thegreat canal. Beyond that canal loomed into the thin sunlight theclustering cones of the mighty Martian city, two towering above allthe others--the cone of the Martian Master and the other cone in whichwas the matter-transmitter and receiver. 

It was toward the latter that Lanier pointed. "Head straight towardthat cone, Randall--we've but minutes left!"

They were racing now up over the great arch of the canal's metalbridge, and then scuttling smoothly off it and along the broad metalstreet through which they had fled in darkness hours before. In itMartians and centipede-machines were coming and going in greatnumbers, but none noticed the human forms of the two crouched low intheir mechanism's control room. 

They were rushing then toward the looming cone of the Martian Master. As they flashed past it Randall saw Lanier's face working, knew thedesire that tore at him even as at himself to burst inside andascertain whether or not Milton still lived in the laboratories fromwhich they had fled. But they were past it, faces white and grim, wererushing on through the Martian city at reckless speed toward the othermighty cone. 

 * * * * *

It seemed that all in the great city were heading toward the samegoal, streams of crocodilian Martians and masses of shiningcentipede-machines filling the streets as they moved toward it. Asthey came closer to the mighty structure, hearts pounding, they sawthat around it surged a mighty mass of Martians and machines. Thehordes waiting to be released through the matter-transmitter insideupon the unsuspecting earth!

"Try to get the machine inside!" Lanier whispered tensely. "If we cansmash that transmitter yet. .. . "

Randall nodded grimly. "Keep ready at the ray-tubes, " he told theother. 

As unobtrusively as possible he sent their long mechanism wormingforward through the vast throng of machines and Martians, toward thegreat cone's door. Crouching low, the hands of their watches closingfast toward the twelfth figure, they edged forward in the longmachine. At last they were moving through the mighty door, into thecone's interior. 

They moved slowly on through the mass of machines and crocodile formsinside, then halted. For at the great crowd's center was a clearcircle hundreds of feet across, and as Randall gazed across it hisheart seemed to leap once and then stop. 

At the center of that clear circle rose the two cubical metal chambersof the matter-transmitter and receiver. The transmitting chamber, theysaw, was flooded with humming force, with white light pouring from itsinner walls. It was already in operation, and the masses of Martiansin the great cone were only waiting for the moment to sound when thereceiver on earth would be operating also. Then they would pour intothe chamber to be flashed in masses across the gulf to earth! The eyesof all in the cone seemed turned toward an erect dial-mechanism besidethe chambers which was clocklike in appearance, and that would markthe moment when the first Martian could enter the transmitting-chamberand flash out. 

 * * * * *

A little distance from the two metal chambers stood a low dais onwhich there sat the hideous triple-bodied form of the Martian Master. Around him were the massed members of his council, waiting like himfor the start of their age-planned invasion of earth. And beside thedais was a figure between two crocodilian guards at sight of whomRandall forgot all else. 

"Milton! My God, Lanier, it's Milton!"

"Milton! They've brought him here to torture or kill him if they findhe's lied about the moment they could flash to earth!"

Milton! And at sight of him something snapped in Randall's brain. 

With a single motion of the knob he sent their centipede-machinecrashing out into the clear circle at the mighty cone's center. A wilduproar of hissing cries broke from all the thousands in it as he sentthe mechanism whirling toward the dais of the Martian Master. He sawthe crocodilian forms there scattering blindly before him, and thenas his rays drove out and spun and stabbed in mad figures of crimsondeath through the astounded Martian masses he saw Milton looking uptoward them, crying out crazily to them as his two guards loosed himfor the moment. 

A high call from the Martian Master ripped across the hall and wasanswered by a shattering roar of hissing voices as Martians andmachines surged madly toward them. Randall and Lanier in a single leapwere out of the centipede-machine, and in an instant had half-draggedMilton with them in a great leap up to the edge of the hummingtransmitting chamber. 

 * * * * *

Milton was shouting hoarsely to them over the wild uproar. To enterthat transmitting chamber before the destined moment was annihilation, to be flashed out with no receiver on earth awaiting them. Theyturned, struck with all their strength at the first Martians rushingup to them. No rays flashed, for a ray loosed would destroy thechamber behind them that was the one gate for the Martians to theworld they would invade. But as the Martian Master's high call hissedagain all the countless crocodilian forms in the great cone wererushing toward them. 

Braced at the very edge of the humming, light-filled chamber, Randalland Lanier and Milton struck madly at the Martians surging up towardthem. Randall seemed in a dream. A score of taloned paws clutched himfrom beneath; scaled forms collapsed under his insane blows. 

The whole vast cone and surging reptilian hordes seemed spinning atincreasing speed around him. As his clenched fists flashed with waningstrength he glimpsed crocodilian forms swarming up on either side ofthem, glimpsed Lanier down, talons reaching toward him, Miltonfighting over him like a madman. Another moment would see itended--reptilian arms reaching in scores to drag him down--Miltonjerking Lanier half to his feet. The Martian Master's callsounded--and then came a great clanging sound at which the Martianhordes seemed to freeze for an instant motionless, at which Milton'svoice reached him in a supreme cry. 

_"Randall--the transmitter!"_

For in that instant Milton was leaping back with Lanier, and asRandall with his last strength threw himself backward with them intothe humming transmitting-chamber's brilliant light, he heard a lastfrenzied roar of hissing cries from the Martian hordes about them. Then as the brilliant light and force from the chamber's walls smotethem, Randall felt himself hurled into blackness inconceivable, thatsmashed like a descending curtain across his brain. 

The curtain of blackness lifted for a moment. He was lying with Miltonand Lanier in another chamber whose force beat upon them. He saw ayellow-lit room instead of the great cone--saw the tense, anxious faceof Nelson at the switch beside them. He strove to move, made to Nelsona gesture with his arm that seemed to drain all strength and life fromhim; and then, as in answer to it Nelson drove up the switch andturned off the force of the matter-receiver in which they lay, theblack curtain descended on Randall's brain once more. 

 * * * * *

Two hours later it was when Milton and Randall and Lanier and Nelsonturned to the laboratory's door. They paused to glance behind them. Ofthe great matter-transmitter and receiver, of the apparatus that hadcrowded the laboratory, there remained now but wreckage. 

For that had been their first thought, their first task, when theastounded Nelson had brought the three back to consciousness and hadheard their amazing tale. They had wrecked so completely thematter-station and its actuating apparatus that none could ever haveguessed what a mechanism of wonder the laboratory a short time beforehad held. 

The cubical chambers had been smashed beyond all recognition, thedynamos were masses of split metal and fused wiring, the batteries oftubes were shattered, the condensers and transformers and wiringdemolished. And it had only been when the last written plans andblue-prints of the mechanism had been burned that Milton and Randalland Lanier had stopped to allow their exhausted bodies a moment ofrest. 

 * * * * *

Now as they paused at the laboratory's door, Lanier reached and swungit open. Together, silent, they gazed out. 

It all seemed to Randall exactly as upon the night before. The shadowymasses in the darkness, the heaving, dim-lit sea stretching far awaybefore them, the curtain of summer stars stretched across the heavens. And, sinking westward amid those stars, the red spark of Mars towardwhich as though toward a magnet all their eyes had turned. 

Milton was speaking. "Up there it has shone for centuries--ages--acrimson spot of light. And up there the Martians have been watching, watching--until at last we opened to them the gate. "

Randall's hand was on his shoulder. "But we closed that gate, too, inthe end. "

Milton nodded slowly. "We--or the fate that rules our worlds. But thegate is closed, and God grant, shall never again be opened by any onthis world. "

"God grant it, " the other echoed. 

And they were all gazing still toward the thing. Gazing up toward thecrimson spot of light that burned there among the stars, toward theplanet that shone red, menacing, terrible, but whose menace and whoseterror had been thrust back even as they had crouched to spring atlast upon the earth. 

The Exile of Time

BEGINNING A FOUR-PART NOVEL

_By Ray Cummings_

CHAPTER I

_Mysterious Girl_

[Illustration: _Presently there was not one Robot, but three!_]

[Sidenote: From somewhere out of Time come a swarm of Robots whoinflict on New York the awful vengeance of the diabolical crippleTugh. ]

The extraordinary incidents began about 1 A. M. In the night of June8-9, 1935. I was walking through Patton Place, in New York City, withmy friend Larry Gregory. My name is George Rankin. My business--andLarry's--are details quite unimportant to this narrative. We had beenfriends in college. Both of us were working in New York; and with allour relatives in the middle west we were sharing an apartment on thisPatton Place--a short crooked, little-known street of not particularlyimpressive residential buildings lying near the section known asGreenwich Village, where towering office buildings of the businessdistricts encroach close upon it. 

This night at 1 A. M. It was deserted. A taxi stood at a corner; itschauffeur had left it there, and evidently gone to a nearby lunchroom. The street lights were, as always, inadequate. The night wassultry and dark, with a leaden sky and a breathless humidity thatpresaged a thunder storm. The houses were mostly unlighted at thishour. There was an occasional apartment house among them, but mostlythey were low, ramshackle affairs of brick and stone. 

We were still three blocks from our apartment when without warning theincidents began which were to plunge us and all the city intodisaster. We were upon the threshold of a mystery weird and strange, but we did not know it. Mysterious portals were swinging to engulfus. And all unknowing, we walked into them. 

Larry was saying, "Wish we would get a storm to clear this air--_whatthe devil?_ George, did you hear that?"

 * * * * *

We stood listening. There had sounded a choking, muffled scream. Wewere midway in the block. There was not a pedestrian in sight, nor anyvehicle save the abandoned taxi at the corner. 

"A woman, " he said. "Did it come from this house?"

We were standing before a three-story brick residence. All its windowswere dark. There was a front stoop of several steps, and a basemententryway. The windows were all closed, and the place had the look ofbeing unoccupied. 

"Not in there, Larry, " I answered. "It's closed for the summer--" ButI got no further; we heard it again. And this time it sounded, notlike a scream, but like a woman's voice calling to attract ourattention. 

"George! Look there!" Larry cried. 

The glow from a street light illumined the basement entryway, andbehind one of the dark windows a girl's face was pressed against thepane. 

Larry stood gripping me, then drew me forward and down the steps ofthe entryway. There was a girl in the front basement room. Darknesswas behind her, but we could see her white frightened face close tothe glass. She tapped on the pane, and in the silence we heard hermuffled voice:

"Let me out! Oh, let me get out!"

The basement door had a locked iron gate. I rattled it. "No way ofgetting in, " I said, then stopped short with surprise. "What thedevil--"

I joined Larry by the window. The girl was only a few inches from us. She had a pale, frightened face; wide, terrified eyes. Even with thatfirst glimpse, I was transfixed by her beauty. And startled; there wassomething weird about her. A low-necked, white satin dress disclosedher snowy shoulders; her head was surmounted by a pile of snow-whitehair, with dangling white curls framing her pale ethereal beauty. Shecalled again. 

"What's the matter with you?" Larry demanded. "Are you alone in there?What is it?"

 * * * * *

She backed from the window; we could see her only as a white blob inthe darkness of the basement room. 

I called, "Can you hear us? What is it?"

Then she screamed again. A low scream; but there was infinite terrorin it. And again she was at the window. 

"You will not hurt me? Let me--oh please let me come out!" Her fistspounded the casement. 

What I would have done I don't know. I recall wondering if thepoliceman would be at our corner down the block; he very seldom wasthere. I heard Larry saying:

"What the hell!--I'll get her out. George, get me that brick. .. . Now, get back, girl--I'm going to smash the window. "

But the girl kept her face pressed against the pane. I had never seensuch terrified eyes. Terrified at something behind her in the house;and equally frightened at us. 

I call to her: "Come to the door. Can't you come to the door and openit?" I pointed to the basement gate. "Open it! Can you hear me?"

"Yes--I can hear you, and you speak my language. But you--you will nothurt me? Where am I? This--this was my house a moment ago. I wasliving here. "

Demented! It flashed to me. An insane girl, locked in this emptyhouse. I gripped Larry; said to him: "Take it easy; there's somethingqueer about this. We can't smash windows. Let's--"

"You open the door, " he called to the girl. 

"I cannot. "

"Why? Is it locked on the inside?"

"I don't know. Because--oh, hurry! If he--if it comes again--!"

 * * * * *

We could see her turn to look behind her. 

Larry demanded, "Are you alone in there?"

"Yes--now. But, oh! a moment ago he was here!"

"Then come to the door. "

"I cannot. I don't know where it is. This is so strange and dark aplace. And yet it was my home, just a little time ago. "

Demented! And it seemed to me that her accent was very queer. Aforeigner, perhaps. 

She went suddenly into frantic fear. Her fists beat the window glassalmost hard enough to shatter it. 

"We'd better get her out, " I agreed. "Smash it, Larry. "

"Yes. " He waved at the girl. "Get back. I'll break the glass. Get awayso you won't get hurt. "

The girl receded into the dimness. 

"Watch your hand, " I cautioned. Larry took off his coat and wrappedhis hand and the brick in it. I gazed behind us. The street was stillempty. The slight commotion we had made had attracted no attention. 

The girl cried out again as Larry smashed the pane. "Easy, " I calledto her. "Take it easy. We won't hurt you. "

The splintering glass fell inward, and Larry pounded around thecasement until it was all clear. The rectangular opening was fairlylarge. We could see a dim basement room of dilapidated furniture: adoor opening into a back room; the girl; nearby, a white shapewatching us. 

There seemed no one else. "Come on, " I said. "You can get out here. "

But she backed away. I was half in the window so I swung my legs overthe sill. Larry came after me, and together we advanced on the girl, who shrank before us. 

Then suddenly she ran to meet us, and I had the sudden feeling thatshe was not insane. Her fear of us was overshadowed by her terror atsomething else in this dark, deserted house. The terror communicateditself to Larry and me. Something eery, here. 

"Come on, " Larry muttered. "Let's get her out of here. "

 * * * * *

I had indeed no desire to investigate anything further. The girl letus help her through the window. I stood in the entryway holding herarms. Her dress was of billowing white satin with a single red rose atthe breast; her snowy arms and shoulders were bare; white hair waspiled high on her small head. Her face, still terrified, showed partedred lips; a little round black beauty patch adorned one of herpowdered cheeks. The thought flashed to me that this was a girl in afancy dress costume. This was a white wig she was wearing!

I stood with the girl in the entryway, at a loss what to do. I heldher soft warm arms; the perfume of her enveloped me. 

"What do you want us to do with you?" I demanded softly. McGuire, thepoliceman on the block, might at any moment pass. "We might getarrested! What's the matter with you? Can't you explain? Are youhurt?"

She was staring as though I were a ghost, or some strange animal. "Oh, take me away from this place! I will talk--though I do not know whatto say--"

Demented or sane, I had no desire to have her fall into the clutchesof the police. Nor could we very well take her to our apartment. Butthere was my friend Dr. Alten, alienist, who lived within a mile ofhere. 

"We'll take her to Alten's, " I said to Larry, "and find out what thismeans. She isn't crazy. "

A sudden wild emotion swept me, then. Whatever this mystery, more thananything in the world I did not want the girl to be insane!

Larry said, "There was a taxi down the street. "

 * * * * *

It came, now, slowly along the deserted block. The chauffeur hadperhaps heard us, and was cruising past to see if we were possiblefares. He halted at the curb. The girl had quieted; but when she sawthe taxi her face registered wildest terror, and she shrank againstme. 

"No! No! Don't let it kill me!"

Larry and I were pulling her forward. "What the devil's the matterwith you?" Larry demanded again. 

She was suddenly wildly fighting with us. "No! That--that mechanism--"

"Get her in it!" Larry panted. "We'll have the neighborhood on us!"

It seemed the only thing to do. We flung her, scrambling and fighting, into the taxi. To the half-frightened, reluctant driver, Larry saidvigorously:

"It's all right; we're just taking her to a doctor. Hurry and get usaway from here. There's good money in it for you!"

The promise--and the reassurance of the physician's address--convincedthe chauffeur. We whirled off toward Washington Square. 

Within the swaying taxi I sat holding the trembling girl. She wassobbing now, but quieting. 

"There, " I murmured. "We won't hurt you; we're just taking you to adoctor. You can explain to him. He's very intelligent. "

"Yes, " she said softly. "Yes. Thank you. I'm all right now. "

She relaxed against me. So beautiful, so dainty a creature. 

Larry leaned toward us. "You're better now?"

"Yes. "

"That's fine. You'll be all right. Don't think about it. "

 * * * * *

He was convinced she was insane. I breathed again the vague hope thatit might not be so. She was huddled against me. Her face, upturned tomine, had color in it now; red lips; a faint rose tint in the palecheeks. 

She murmured, "Is this New York?"

My heart sank. "Yes, " I answered. "Of course it is. "

"But when?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what year?"

"Why, 1935!"

She caught her breath. "And your name is--"

"George Rankin. "

"And I, "--her laugh had a queer break in it--"I am Mistress MaryAtwood. But just a few minutes ago--oh, am I dreaming? Surely I'm notinsane!"

Larry again leaned over us. "What are you talking about?"

"You're friendly, you two. Like men; strange, so very strange-lookingyoung men. This--this carriage without any horses--I know now it won'thurt me. "

She sat up. "Take me to your doctor. And then to the general of yourarmy. I must see him, and warn him. Warn you all. " She was turninghalf hysterical again. She laughed wildly. "Your general--he won't beGeneral Washington, of course. But I must warn him. "

She gripped me. "You think I am demented. But I am not. I am MaryAtwood, daughter of Major Charles Atwood, of General Washington'sstaff. That was my home, where you broke the window. But it did notlook like that a few moments ago. You tell me this is the year 1935, but just a few moments ago I was living in the year 1777!"

CHAPTER II

_From Out of the Past_

"Sane?" said Dr. Alten. "Of course she's sane. " He stood gazing downat Mary Atwood. He was a tall, slim fellow, this famous youngalienist, with dark hair turning slightly grey at the temples and aneat black mustache that made him look older than he was. Dr. Alten atthis time, in spite of his eminence, had not yet turned forty. 

"She's sane, " he reiterated. "Though from what you tell me, it's awonder that she is. " He smiled gently at the girl. "If you don't mind, my dear, tell us just what happened to you, as calmly as you can. "

She sat by an electrolier in Dr. Alten's living room. The yellow lightgleamed on her white satin dress, on her white shoulders, herbeautiful face with its little round black beauty patch, and the curlsof the white wig dangling to her neck. From beneath the billowing, flounced skirt the two satin points of her slippers showed. 

A beauty of the year 1777! This thing so strange! I gazed at her withquickened pulse. It seemed that I was dreaming; that as I sat beforeher in my tweed business suit with its tubular trousers I was theanachronism! This should have been candle-light illumining us; Ishould have been a powdered and bewigged gallant, in gorgeous satinand frilled shirt to match her dress. How strange, how futuristic wethree men of 1935 must have looked to her! And this city through whichwe had whirled her in the throbbing taxi--no wonder she wasoverwrought. 

Alten fumbled in the pockets of his dressing gown for cigarettes. "Goahead, Miss Mary. You are among friends. I promise we will try andunderstand. "

 * * * * *

She smiled. "Yes. I--I believe you. " Her voice was low. She satstaring at the floor, choosing her words carefully; and though shestumbled a little, her story was coherent. Upon the wings of her wordsmy fancy conjured that other Time-world, more than a hundred and fiftyyears ago. 

"I was at home to-night, " she began. "To-night after dinner. I have norelatives except my father. He is General Washington's aide. Welive--our home is north of the city. I was alone, except for theservants. 

"Father sent word to-night that he was coming to see me. Themessenger got through the British lines. But the redcoats areeverywhere. They were quartered in our house. For months I have beenlittle more than a servant to a dozen of My Lord's Howe's officers. They are gentlemen, though: I have no complaint. Then they left, andfather, knowing it, wanted to come to see me. 

"He should not have tried it. Our house is watched. He promised me hewould not wear the British red. " She shuddered. "Anything but that--tohave him executed as a spy. He would not risk that, but wear merely along black cloak. 

"He was to come about ten o'clock. But at midnight there was no signof him. The servants were asleep. I sat alone, and every poundinghoof-beat on the road matched my heart. 

"Then I went into the garden. There was a dim moon in and out of theclouds. It was hot, like to-night. I mean, why it _was_ to-night. It'sso strange--"

 * * * * *

In the silence of Alten's living room we could hear the hurriedticking of his little mantle clock, and from the street outside camethe roar of a passing elevated train and the honk of a taxi. This wasNew York of 1935. But to me the crowding ghosts of the past were here. In fancy I saw the white pillars of the moonlit Atwood home. A gardenwith a dirt road beside it. Red-coated British soldiers passing. .. . And to the south the little city of New York extending northward fromcrooked Maiden Lane and the Bowling Green. .. . 

"Go on, Mistress Mary. "

"I sat on a bench in the garden. And suddenly before me there was awhite ghost. A shape. A wraith of something which a moment before hadnot been there. I sat too frightened to move. I could not call out. Itried to, but the sound would not come. 

"The shape was like a mist, a little ball of cloud in the center ofthe garden lawn. Then in a second or two it was solid--a thing like ashining cage, with crisscrossing white bars. It was like a room; ametal cage like a room. I thought that the thing was a phantom or thatI was asleep and dreaming. But it was real. "

Alten interrupted. "How big was it?"

"As large as this room; perhaps larger. But it was square, and abouttwice as high as a man. "

A cage, then, some twenty feet square and twelve feet high. 

She went on: "The cage door opened. I think I was standing, then, andI tried to run but could not. The--the _thing_ came from the door ofthe cage and walked toward me. It was about ten feet tall. Itlooked--oh, it looked like a man!"

 * * * * *

She buried her face in her hands. Again the room was silent. Larry wasseated, staring at her; all of us were breathless. 

"Like a man?" Alten prompted gently. 

"Yes; like a man. " She raised her white face. This girl out of thepast! Admiration for her swept me anew--she was bravely trying tosmile. 

"Like a man. A thing with legs, a body, a great round head and swayingarms. A jointed man of metal! You surely must know all about them. "

"A Robot!" Larry muttered. 

"You have them here, I suppose. Like that rumbling carriage withouthorses, this jointed iron man came walking toward me. And it spoke! Amost horrible hollow voice--but it seemed almost human. And what itsaid I do not know, for I fainted. I remember falling as it camewalking toward me, with stiff-jointed legs. 

"When I came to my senses I was in the cage. Everything was humming andglowing. There was a glow outside the bars like a moonlit mist. The ironmonster was sitting at a table, with peculiar things--mechanical things--"

"The controls of the cage-mechanisms, " said Alten. "How long were youin the cage?"

"I don't know. Time seemed to stop. Everything was silent except thehumming noises. They were everywhere. I guess I was only halfconscious. The monster sat motionless. In front of him were big roundclock faces with whirling hands. Oh, I suppose you don't find thisstrange; but to me--!"

 * * * * *

"Could you see anything outside the cage?" Alten persisted. "No. Justa fog. But it was crawling and shifting. Yes!--I remember now--I couldnot see anything out there, but I had the thought, the feeling, thatthere were tremendous things to see! The monster spoke again and toldme to be careful; that we were going to stop. Its iron hands pulled atlevers. Then the humming grew fainter; died away; and I felt a shock. 

"I thought I had fainted again. I could just remember being pulledthrough the cage door. The monster left me on the ground. It said, 'Lie there, for I will return very soon. '

"The cage vanished. I saw a great cliff of stone near me; it hadyellow-lighted openings, high up in the air. And big stone fenceshemmed me in. Then I realized I was in an open space between a lot ofstone houses. One towered like a cliff, or the side of a pyramid--"

"The back yard of that house on Patton Place!" Larry exclaimed. Helooked at me. "Has it any back yard, George?"

"How should I know?" I retorted. "Probably has. "

"Go on, " Alten was prompting. 

"That is nearly all. I found a doorway leading to a dark room. Icrawled through it toward a glow of light. I passed through anotherroom. I thought I was in a nightmare, and that this was my home. Iremembered that the cage had not moved. It had hardly lurched. Justtrembled; vibrated. 

"But this was not my home. The rooms were small and dark. Then Ipeered through a window on a strange stone street. And saw thesestrange-looking young men. And that is all--all I can tell you. "

She had evidently held herself calm by a desperate effort. She brokedown now, sobbing without restraint. 

CHAPTER III

_Tugh, the Cripple_

The portals of this mystery had swung wide to receive us. The tumblingevents which menaced all our world of 1935 were upon us now. Amaelstrom. A torrent in the midst of which we were caught up like tinybits of cork and whirled away. 

But we thought we understood the mystery. We believed we were actingfor the best. What we did was no doubt ill-considered; but the humanmind is so far from omniscient! And this thing was so strange!

Alten said, "You have a right to be overwrought, Mistress Mary Atwood. But this thing is as strange to us as it is to you. I called that ironmonster a Robot. But it does not belong to our age: if it does I havenever seen one such as you describe. And traveling through Time--"

He smiled down at her. "That is not a commonplace everyday occurrenceto us, I assure you. The difference is that in this world of ours wecan understand--or at least explain--these things as being scientific. And so they have not the terror of the supernatural. "

Mary was calmer now. She returned his smile. "I realize that; or atleast I am trying to realize it. "

What a level-headed girl was this! I touched her arm. "You are verywonderful--"

Alten brushed me away. "Let's try and reduce it to rationality. Thecage was--is, I should say, since of course it still exists--that cageis a Time-traveling vehicle. It is traveling back and forth throughTime, operated by a Robot. Call it that. A pseudo-human monsterfashioned of metal in the guise of a man. "

Even Alten had to force himself to speak calmly, as he gazed from oneto the other of us. "It came, no doubt from some future age, wherehalf-human mechanisms are common, and Time-traveling is known. Thatcage probably does not travel in Space, but only in Time. In thefuture--somewhere--the Space of that house on Patton Place may be thelaboratory of a famous scientist. And in the past--in the year1777--that same Space was the garden of Mistress Atwood's home. Somuch is obvious. But why--"

"Why, " Larry burst out, "did that iron monster stop in 1777 and abductthis girl?"

"And why, " I intercepted, "did it stop here in 1935?" I gazed at Mary. "And it told you it would return?"

"Yes. "

 * * * * *

Alten was pondering. "There must be some connection, of course. .. . Mistress Mary, had you never seen this cage before?"

"No. "

"Nor anything like it? Was anything like that known to your Time?"

"No. Oh, I cannot truly say that. Some people believe in phantoms, omens and witchcraft. There was in Salem, in the Massachusetts Colony, not so many years ago--"

"I don't mean that. I mean Time-traveling. "

"There were soothsayers and fortune-tellers, and necromancers withcrystals to gaze into the future. "

"We still have them, " Alten smiled. "You see, we don't know much morethan you do about this thing. "

I said, "Did you have any enemy? Anyone who wished you harm?"

She thought a moment. "No--yes, there was one. " She shuddered at thememory. "A man--a cripple--a horribly repulsive man of about one scoreand ten years. He lives down near the Battery. " She paused. 

"Tell us about him, " Larry urged. 

She nodded. "But what could he have to do with this? He is horriblydeformed. Thin, bent legs, a body like a cask and a bulging foreheadwith goggling eyes. My Lord Howe's officers say he is very intelligentand very learned. Loyal to the King, too. There was a munitions plotin the Bermudas, and this cripple and Lord Howe were concerned in it. But Father likes the fellow and says that in reality he wishes ourcause well. He is rich. 

"But you don't want to hear all this. He--he made love to me, and Irepulsed him. There was a scene with Father, and Father had ourlackeys throw him out. That was a year ago. He cursed horribly. Hevowed then that some day he--he would have me; and get revenge onFather. But he has kept away. I have not seen him for a twelvemonth. "

 * * * * *

We were silent. I chanced to glance at Alten, and a strange look wason his face. 

He said abruptly, "What is this cripple's name, Mistress Mary?"

"Tugh. He is known to all the city as Tugh. Just that. I never heardany Christian name. "

Alten rose sharply to his feet. "A cripple named Tugh?"

"Yes, " she affirmed wonderingly. "Does it mean anything to you?"

Alten swung on me. "What is the number of that house on Patton Place?Did you happen to notice?"

I had, and wondering I told him. 

"Just a minute, " he said. "I want to use the phone. "

He came back to us in a moment: his face was very solemn. "That houseon Patton Place is owned by a man named Tugh! I just called a reporterfriend; he remembers a certain case: he confirmed what I thought. Mistress Mary, did this Tugh in your Time ever consult doctors, tryingto have his crippled body made whole?"

"Why, of course he did. I have heard that many times. But hiscrippled, deformed body cannot be cured. "

Alten checked Larry and me when we would have broken in withastonished questions. He said:

"Don't ask me what it means; I don't know. But I think that thiscripple--this Tugh--has lived both in 1777 and 1935, and is travelingbetween them in this Time-traveling cage. And perhaps he is the humanmaster of that Robot. "

Alten made a vehement gesture. "But we'd better not theorize; it's toofantastic. Here is the story of Tugh in our Time. He came to me somethree years ago; in 1932, I think. He offered any price if I couldcure his crippled body. All the New York medical fraternity knew him. He seemed sane, but obsessed with the idea that he must have a bodylike other men. Like Faust, who, as an old man, paid the price of hissoul to become youthful, he wanted to have the beautiful body of ayoung man. "

Alten was speaking vehemently. My thoughts ran ahead of his words; Icould imagine with grewsome fancy so many things. A cripple, travelingto different ages seeking to be cured. Desiring a different body. .. . 

 * * * * *

Alten was saying, "This fellow Tugh lived alone in that house onPatton Place. He was all you say of him, Mistress Mary. Hideouslyrepulsive. A sinister personality. About thirty years old. 

"And, in 1932, he got mixed up with a girl who had a somewhat dubiousreputation herself. A dancer, a frequenter of night-clubs, as theyused to be called. Her name was Doris Johns--something like that. Sheevidently thought she could get money out of Tugh. Whatever it was, there was a big uproar. The girl had him arrested, saying that he hadassaulted her. The police had quite a time with the cripple. "

Larry and I remembered a few of the details of it now, though neitherof us had been in New York at the time. 

Alten went on: "Tugh fought with the police. Went berserk. I imaginethey handled him pretty roughly. In the Magistrate's Court he madeanother scene, and fought with the court attendants. With ungovernablerage he screamed vituperatives, and was carried kicking, biting andsnarling from the court-room. He threatened some wild weird revengeupon all the city officials--even upon the city itself. "

"Nice sort of chap, " Larry commented. 

But Alten did not smile. "The Magistrate could only hold him forcontempt of Court. The girl had absolutely no evidence to support heraccusation of assault. Tugh was finally dismissed. A week later hemurdered the girl. 

"The details are unimportant; but he did it. The police had himtrapped in his house; had the house surrounded--this same one onPatton Place--but when they burst in to take him, he had inexplicablyvanished. He was never heard from again. "

Alten continued to regard us with grim, solemn face. "Never heardfrom--until to-night. And now we hear of him. How he vanished, withthe police guarding every exit to that house--well, it's obvious, isn't it? He went into another Time-world. Back to 1777, doubtless. "

Mary Atwood gave a little cry. "I had forgotten that I must warn you. Tugh told me once, before Father and I quarreled with him, that he hada mysterious power. He was a most wonderful man, he said. And therewas a world in the future--he mentioned 1934 or 1935--which he hated. A great city whose people had wronged him; and he was going to bringdeath to them. Death to them all! I did not heed him. I thought he wasdemented, raving. .. . "

 * * * * *

Alten's little clock ticked with tumultuous heartbeat through anothersilence. The great city around us, even though this was two o'clockin the morning, throbbed with a myriad of blended sounds. 

A warning! Was the girl from out of the past giving us a warning ofcoming disaster to this great city?

Alten was pacing the floor. "What are we to do--tell the authorities?Take Mistress Mary Atwood to Police Headquarters and inform them thatshe has come from the year 1777? And that, if we are not careful, there will be an attack upon New York?"

"No!" I burst out. I could fancy how we would be received at PoliceHeadquarters if we did that! And our pictures in to-morrow'snewspapers. Mary's picture, with a jibing headline ridiculing us. 

"No, " echoed Alten. "I have no intention of doing it. I'm not sofoolish as that. " He stopped before Mary. "What do you want to do?You're obviously an exceptionally intelligent, level-headed girl. Heaven knows you need to be. "

"I--I want to get back home, " she stammered. 

A pang shot through me as she said it. A hundred and fifty years toseparate us. A vast gulf. An impassible barrier. 

"That mechanism said it would return!"

"Exactly, " agreed Alten. An excitement was upon us all. "Exactly whatI mean! Shall we chance it? Try it? There's nothing else I can thinkof to do. I have a revolver and two hunting rifles. "

"Just what do you mean?" I demanded. 

"I mean, we'll take my car and go to Tugh's house on Patton Place. Right now! And if that mechanical monster returns, we'll seize it!"

Alten, the usually calm, precise man of science, was tensely vehement. "Seize it! Why not? Three of us, armed, ought to be able to overcome aRobot! Then we'll seize the Time-traveling cage. Perhaps we canoperate it. If not, with it in our possession we'll at least havesomething to show the authorities; there'll be no ridicule then!"

Our inescapable destiny was making us plunge so rashly into thismystery! With the excitement and the strange fantasy of it upon us, wethought we were acting for the best. 

Within a quarter of an hour, armed and with a long overcoat and ascarf to hide Mary Atwood's beauty, we took Alten's car and drove toPatton Place. 

CHAPTER IV

_The Fight With the Robot_

Patrolman McGuire quite evidently had not passed through Patton Placesince we left it; or at least he had not noticed the broken window. The house appeared as before, dark, silent, deserted, and the brokenbasement window yawned with its wide black opening. 

"I'll leave the car around on the other street, " Alten said as slowlywe passed the house. "Quick--no one's in sight; you three get outhere. "

We crouched in the dim entryway and in a moment he joined us. 

I clung to Mary Atwood's arm. "You're not afraid?" I asked. 

"No. Yes; of course I am afraid. But I want to do what we planned. Iwant to go back to my own world, to my Father. "

"Inside!" Alten whispered. "I'll go first. You two follow with her. "

I can say now that we should not have taken her into that house. It isso easy to look back upon what one might have done!

We climbed through the window, into the dark front basement room. There was only silence, and our faintly padding footsteps on thecarpeted floor. The furniture was shrouded with cotton covers standinglike ghosts in the gloom. I clutched the loaded rifle which Alten hadgiven me. Larry was similarly armed; and Alten carried a revolver. 

"Which way, Mary?" I whispered. "You're sure it was outdoors?"

"Yes. This way, I think. "

We passed through the connecting door. The back room seemed to be adismantled kitchen. 

"You stay with her here, a moment, " Alten whispered to me. "Come on, Larry. Let's make sure no one--nothing--is down here. "

I stood silent with Mary, while they prowled about the lower floor. 

"It may have come and gone, " I whispered. 

"Yes. " She was trembling against me. 

 * * * * *

It seemed to me an eternity while we stood there listening to thefaint footfalls of Larry and Alten. Once they must have stood quiet;then the silence leaped and crowded us. It is horrible to listen to apregnant silence which every moment might be split by some weirdunearthly sound. 

Larry and Alten returned. "Seems to be all clear, " Alten whispered. "Let's go into the back yard. "

The little yard was dim. The big apartment house against its rear wallloomed with a blank brick face, save that there were windows someeight stories up. Only a few windows overlooked this dim area with itshigh enclosing walls. The space was some forty feet square, and therewas a faded grass plot in the center. 

We crouched near the kitchen door, with Mary behind us in the room. She said she could recall the cage having stood near the center of theyard, with its door facing this way. .. . 

Nearly an hour passed. It seemed that the dawn must be near, but itwas only around four o'clock. The same storm clouds hung overhead--athreatening storm which would not break. The heat was oppressing. 

"It's come and gone, " Larry whispered; "or it isn't coming. I guessthat this--"

And then it came! We were just outside the doorway, crouching againstthe shadowed wall of the house. I had Mary close behind me, my rifleready. 

"There!" whispered Alten. 

We all saw it--a faint luminous mist out near the center of theyard--a crawling, shifting ball of fog. 

Alten and Larry, one on each side of me, shifted sidewise, away fromme. Mary stood and cast off her dark overcoat. We men were in darkclothes, but she stood in gleaming white against the dark rectangle ofdoorway. It was as we had arranged. A moment only, she stood there;then she moved back, further behind me in the black kitchen. 

And in that moment the cage had materialized. We were hoping itsoccupant had seen the girl, and not us. A breathless moment passedwhile we stared for the first time at this strange thing from theUnknown. .. . A formless, glowing mist, it quickly gathered itself intosolidity. It seemed to shrink. It took form. From a wraith of a cage, in a second it was solid. And so silently, so swiftly, came this thingout of Time into what we call the Present! The dim yard a second agohad been empty. 

 * * * * *

The cage stood there, a thing of gleaming silver bars. It seemed toenclose a single room. From within its dim interior came a faint glow, which outlined something standing at the bars, peering out. 

The doorway was facing us. There had been utter silence; but suddenly, as though to prove how solid was this apparition, we heard the clankof metal, and the door slid open. 

I turned to make sure that Mary was hiding well behind me. The wayback to the street, if need for escape arose, was open to her. 

I turned again, to face the shining cage. In the doorway somethingstood peering out, a light behind it. It was a great jointed thing ofdark metal some ten feet high. For a moment it stood motionless. Icould not see its face clearly, though I knew there was a suggestionof human features, and two great round glowing spots of eyes. 

It stepped forward--toward us. A jointed, stiff-legged step. Its armswere dangling loosely; I heard one of its mailed hands clank againstits sides. 

"Now!" Alten whispered. 

I saw Alten's revolver leveling, and my own rifle went up. 

"Aim at its face, " I murmured. 

We pulled our triggers together, and two spurts of flame spat beforeus. But the thing had stooped an instant before, and we missed. Thencame Larry's shot. And then chaos. 

 * * * * *

I recall hearing the ping of Larry's bullet against the mailed body ofthe Robot. At that it crouched, and from it leaped a dull red-blackbeam of light. I heard Mary scream. She had not fled but was clingingto me. I cast her off. 

"Run! Get back! Get away!" I cried. 

Larry shouted, as we all stood bathed in the dull light from theRobot:

"Look out! It sees us!"

He fired again, into the light--and murmured, "Why--why--"

A great surprise and terror was in his tone. Beside me, withhalf-leveled revolver, Alten stood transfixed. And he too wasmuttering something. 

All this happened in an instant. And there I was aware that I wastrying to get my rifle up for firing again; but I could not. My armsstiffened. I tried to take a step, tried to move a foot, but couldnot. I was rooted there; held, as though by some giant magnet, to theground!

This horrible dull-red light! It was cold--a frigid, paralyzing blast. The blood ran like cold water in my veins. My feet were heavy with theweight of my body pressing them down. 

Then the Robot was moving; coming forward; holding the light upon us. I thought I heard its voice--and a horrible, hollow, rasping laugh. 

My brain was chilling. I had confused thoughts; impressions, vague anddreamlike. As though in a dream I felt myself standing there withMary clinging to me. Both of us were frozen inert upon our feet. 

I tried to shout, but my tongue was too thick; my throat seemedswelling inside. I heard Alten's revolver clatter to the stonepavement of the yard. And saw him fall forward--out. 

 * * * * *

I felt that in another instant I too would fall. This damnable, chilling light! Then the beam turned partly away, and fell more fullyupon Larry. With his youth and greater strength than Alten's or mine, he had resisted its first blast. His weapon had fallen; now he stoopedand tried to seize it; but he lost his balance and staggered backwardagainst the house wall. 

And then the Robot was upon him. It sprang--this mechanism!--thismachine in human form! And, with whatever pseudo-human intelligenceactuated its giant metal body, it reached under Larry for his rifle!Its great mailed hand swept the ground, seized the rifle and flung itaway. And as Larry twisted sidewise, the Robot's arm with a sweepcaught him and rolled him across the yard. When he stopped, he laymotionless. 

I heard myself thickly calling to Mary, and the light flashed againupon us. And then we fell forward. Clinging together, we fell. .. . 

I did not quite lose consciousness. It seemed that I was frozen, anddrifting off half into a nightmare sleep. Great metal arms weregathering Mary and me from the ground. Lifting us; carrying us. .. . 

We were in the cage. I felt myself lying on the grid of a metal floor. I could vaguely see the crossed bars of the ceiling overhead, and thelatticed walls around me. .. . 

 * * * * *

Then the dull-red light was gone. The chill was gone. I was warming. The blessed warm blood again was coursing through my veins, revivingme, bringing back my strength. 

I turned over, and found Mary lying beside me. I heard her softlymurmur:

"George! George Rankin!"

The giant mechanism clanked the door closed, and came with stiff, stilted steps back into the center of the cage. I heard the hollowrumble of its voice, chuckling, as its hand pulled a switch. 

At once the cage-room seemed to reel. It was not a physical movement, though, but more a reeling of my senses, a wild shock to all my being. 

Then, after a nameless interval, I steadied. Around me was a humming, glowing intensity of tiny sounds and infinitely small, infinitelyrapid vibrations. The whole room grew luminous. The Robot, seated nowat a table, showed for a moment as thin as an apparition. All thisroom--Mary lying beside me, the mechanism, myself--all this wasimponderable, intangible, unreal. 

And outside the bars stretched a shining mist of movement. Blurredshifting shapes over a vast illimitable vista. Changing things;melting landscapes. Silent, tumbling, crowding events blurred by ourmovement as we swept past them. 

We were traveling through Time!

CHAPTER V

_The Girl from 2930_

I must take up now the sequence of events as Larry saw them. I wasseparated from Larry during most of the strange incidents which befellus later; but from his subsequent account of what happened to him I amconstructing several portions of this history, using my own wordsbased upon Larry's description of the events in which I personally didnot participate; I think that this method avoids complications in thenarrative and makes more clear my own and Larry's simultaneousactions. 

Larry recovered consciousness in the back yard of the house on PattonPlace probably only a moment or two after Mary and I had been snatchedaway in the Time-traveling cage. He found himself bruised andbattered, but apparently without injuries. He got to his feet, weakand shaken. His head was roaring. 

He recalled what had happened to him, but it seemed like a dream. Theback yard was then empty. He remembered vaguely that he had seen themechanism carry Mary and me into the cage, and that the cage hadvanished. 

Larry knew that only a few moments had passed. The shots had arousedthe neighborhood. As he stood now against the house wall, dizzilylooking around, he was aware of calling voices from the nearbywindows. 

Then Larry stumbled over Alten, who was lying on his face near thekitchen doorway. Still alive, he groaned as Larry fell over him; buthe was unconscious. 

Forgetting all about his weapon, Larry's first thought was to rush outfor help. He staggered through the dark kitchen into the front room, and through the corridor into the street. 

Patton Place, as before, was deserted. The houses were dark; the alarmwas all in the rear. There were no pedestrians, no vehicles, and nosign of a policeman. Dawn was just coming; as Larry turned eastward hesaw, in a patch of clearing sky, stars paling with the comingdaylight. 

 * * * * *

With uncertain steps, out in the middle of the street, Larry raneastward through the middle of the street, hoping that at the nextcorner he might encounter someone, or find a telephone over which hemight call the police. 

But he had not gone more than five hundred feet when suddenly hestopped; stood there wavering, panting, staring with whirling senses. Near the middle of the street, with the faint dawn behind it, a ballof gathering mist had appeared directly in his path. It was aluminous, shining mist--and it was gathering into form!

In seconds a small, glowing cage of white luminous bars stood there inthe street, where there had just been nothing! It was not theTime-traveling cage from the house yard he had just left. No--he knewit was not that one. This one was similar, but much smaller. 

The shock of its appearance held Larry for a moment transfixed. It hadso silently, so suddenly appeared in his path that Larry was nowwithin a foot or two of its doorway. 

The doorway slid open, and a man leaped out. Behind him, a girl peeredfrom the doorway. Larry stood gaping, wholly confused. The cage hadmaterialized so abruptly that the leaping man collided with him beforeeither man could avoid the other. Larry gripped the man before him;struck out with his fists and shouted. The girl in the doorway calledfrantically:

"Harl-no noise! Harl-stop him!"

Then, suddenly the two of them were upon Larry and pulling him towardthe doorway of the cage. Inside, he was jerked; he shouted wildly; butthe girl slammed the door. Then in a soft, girlish voice, in Englishwith a curiously indescribable accent and intonation, the girl saidhastily:

"Hold him, Harl! Hold him! I'll start the traveler!"

The black garbed figure of a slim young man was gripping Larry as thegirl pulled a switch and there was a shock, a reeling of Larry'ssenses, as the cage, motionless in Space, sped off into Time. .. . 

 * * * * *

It seems needless to encumber this narrative with prolonged details ofhow Larry explained himself to his two captors. Or how they told himwho they were; and from whence they had come; and why. To Larry it wasa fantastic--and confusing at first--series of questions and answers. An hour? The words have no meaning. They were traveling through Time. Years were minutes--the words meaning nothing save how they impressedthe vehicle's human occupants. To them all it was an interval ofmutual distrust which was gradually changing into friendship. Larryfound the two strangers singularly direct; singularly forceful inquiet, calm fashion; singularly keen of perception. They had not meantto capture him. The encounter had startled them, and Larry's shoutswould have brought others upon the scene. 

Almost at once they knew Larry was no enemy, and told him so. And in amoment Larry was pouring out all that had happened to him; and toAlten and Mary Atwood and me. This strange thing! But to Larry now, telling it to these strange new companions, it abruptly seemed notfantastic, but only sinister. The Robot, an enemy, had captured MaryAtwood and me, and whirled us off in the other--the larger--cage. 

And in this smaller cage Larry was with friends--for he suddenly foundtheir purpose the same as his! They were chasing this otherTime-traveler, with its semi-human, mechanical operator!

The young man said, "You explain to him, Tina. I will watch. "

He was a slim, pale fellow, handsome in a queer, tight-lipped, stern-faced fashion. His close-fitting black silk jacket had a whiteneck ruching and white cuffs; he wore a wide white-silk belt, snugblack-silk knee-length trousers and black stockings. 

And the girl was similarly dressed. Her black hair was braided andcoiled upon her head, and ornaments dangled from her ears. Over herblack blouse was a brocaded network jacket; her white belt, compressing her slim waist, dangled with tassels; and there were othertassels on the garters at the knees of her trousers. 

She was a pale-faced, beautiful girl, with black brows arching in athin line, with purple-black eyes like somber pools. She was no morethan five feet tall, and slim and frail. But, like her companion, there was about her a queer aspect of calm, quiet power and force ofpersonality--physical vitality merged with an intellect keenly sharp. 

She sat with Larry on a little metal bench, listening, almost withoutinterruption, to his explanation. And then, succinctly she gave herown. The young man, Harl, sat at his instruments, with his gazesearching for the other cage, five hundred feet away in Space, but inTime unknown. 

And outside the shining bars Larry could vaguely see the blurred, shifting, melting vistas of New York City hastening through thechanges Time had brought to it. 

 * * * * *

This young man, Harl, and this girl, Tina, lived in New York City inthe Time-world of 2930 A. D. To Larry it was a thousand years in thefuture. Tina was the Princess of the American Nation. It was anhereditary title, non-political, added several hundred yearspreviously as a picturesque symbol. A tradition; something to makeless prosaic the political machine of Republican government. Tina wasloved by her people, we afterward came to learn. 

Harl was an aristocrat of the New York City of Tina's Time-world, ascientist. In the Government laboratories, under the same roof whereTina dwelt, Harl had worked with another, older scientist, and--soTina told me--together they had discovered the secret ofTime-traveling. They had built two cages, a large and a small, whichcould travel freely through Time. 

The smaller vehicle--this one in which Larry now was speeding--was, inthe Time-world of 2930, located in the garden of Tina's palace. Theother, somewhat larger, they had built some five hundred feet distant, just beyond the palace walls, within a great Government laboratory. 

Harl's fellow scientist--the leader in their endeavors, since he wasmuch older and of wider experience--was not altogether trusted byTina. He took the credit for the discovery of Time-traveling; yet, said Tina, it was Harl's genius which in reality had worked out thefinal problems. 

And this older scientist was a cripple. A hideously repulsive fellow, named Tugh!

"Tugh!" exclaimed Larry. 

"The same, " said Tina in her crisp fashion. "Yes--undoubtedly thesame. So you see why what you have told us was of such interest. Tughis a Government leader in our world; and now we find he has lived in_your_ Time, and in the Time of this Mary Atwood. "

From his seat at the instrument table, Harl burst out: "So he murdereda girl of 1935, and has abducted another of 1777? You would not haveme judge him, Tina--"

"No one, " she said, "may judge without full facts. This man here--thisLarry of 1935--tells us that only a mechanism is in the largercage--which is what we thought, Harl. And this mechanism, without adoubt, is the treacherous Migul. "

 * * * * *

There was, in 2930, a vast world of machinery. The god of the machinehad developed them to almost human intricacy. Almost all the work ofthe world, particularly in America, and most particularly in themechanical center of New York City, was done by machinery. And themachinery itself was guided, handled, operated--even, in someinstances, constructed--by other, more intricate machines. They werefashioned in pseudo-human form--thinking, logically acting, independently acting mechanisms: the Robots. All but human, theywere--a new race. Inferior to humans, yet similar. 

And in 2930 the machines, slaves of idle human masters, had beendeveloped too highly! They were upon the verge of a revolt!

All this Tina briefly sketched now to Larry. And to Larry it seemed avery distant, very academic danger. Yet so soon all of us were plungedinto the midst of it!

The revolt had not yet come, but it was feared. A great Robot namedMigul seemed fomenting it. The revolt was smouldering; at any momentit would burst; and then the machines would rise to destroy thehumans. 

This was the situation when Harl and Tugh completed the Time-travelingvehicles in this world. They had been tested, but never used. ThenTugh had vanished; was gone now; and the larger of the two vehicleswas also gone. 

Both Harl and Tina had always distrusted Tugh. They thought him alliedto the Robots. But they had no proof; and suavely he denied it, andhelped always with the Government activities struggling to keep themechanical slaves docile and at work. 

 * * * * *

Tugh and the larger vehicle had vanished, and so had Migul, theinsubordinate, giant mechanism--at which, unknown to the Governmentofficials, Tina and Harl had taken the other cage and started inpursuit. It was possible that Tugh was loyal; that Migul had abductedhim and stolen the cage. 

"Wait!" exclaimed Larry. "I'm trying to figure this out. It seems tohang together. It almost does, but not quite. When did Tugh vanishfrom your world?"

"To our consciousness, " Tina answered, "about three hours ago. Perhapsa little longer than that. "

"But look here, " Larry protested: "according to my story and that ofMary Atwood, Tugh lived in 1935 and in 1777 for three years. "

Confusing? But in a moment Larry understood it. Tugh could have takenthe cage, gone to 1777 and to 1935, alternated between them for whatwas to him, and to those Time-worlds, three years--then have returnedto 2930 _on the same day of his departure_. He would have lived thesethree years; grown that much older; but to the Time-world of 2930neither he nor the cage would have been missed. 

"That, " said Tina, "is what doubtless he did. The cage is travelingagain. But you, Larry, tell us only Migul is in it. "

"I couldn't say that of my own knowledge, " said Larry. "Mary Atwoodsaid so. It held only the mechanism you call Migul. And now Migul haswith him Mary and my friend George Rankin. We must reach them. "

"We want that quite as much as you do, " said Harl. "And to find Tugh. If he is a friend we must save him; if a traitor--punish him. "

Larry began, "But can you get to the other cage?"

"Only if it stops, " said Tina. "_When_ it stops, I should say. "

"Come here, " said Harl. "I will show you. "

 * * * * *

Larry crossed the glowing room. He had forgotten its aspect--theghostly unreality around him. He too--his body, like Harl's andTina's--was of the same wraith-like substance. .. . Then, suddenly, Larry's viewpoint shifted. The room and its occupants were real andtangible. And outside the glowing bars--everything out there was theunreality. 

"Here, " said Harl. "I will show you. It is not visible yet. "

Each of the cages was equipped with an intricate device, strange ofname, which Larry and I have since termed a Time-telespectroscope. Larry saw it now as a small metal box, with tuning vibration dials, batteries, coils, a series of tiny prisms and an image-mirror--thewhole surmounted by what appeared the barrel of a small telescope. Harl had it leveled and was gazing through it. [1]

[Footnote 1: The workings of the Time-telespectroscope involve all theintricate postulates and mathematical formulae of Time-travelingitself. As a matter of practicality, however, the results obtained aresimple of understanding. The etheric vibratory rate of the vehicleswhile traveling through Time was constantly changing. Through thetelespectroscope one cage was visible to the other across the fivehundred feet of intervening Space when they approached a simultaneousTime; when they, so to speak, were tuned in unison. 

Thus, Harl explained, the other cage would show as a ghost, thefaintest of wraiths, over a Time-distance of some five or ten years. And the closer in Time they approached it, the more solid it wouldappear. ]

The enemy cage was not visible, now. But Harl and Tina had glimpsed iton several occasions. What vast realms Time opens within a singlesmall segment of Space! The larger vehicle seemed speeding back andforth. A dash into the year 1777! as Larry learned from Mary Atwood. 

And there had been several evidences of the cage halting in 1935. Larry's account explained two such pauses. But the others? Thoseothers, which brought to the City of New York such amazing disaster?We did not learn of then until much later. But Alten lived throughthem, and presently I shall reconstruct them from his account. 

The larger cage was difficult to trace in its sweep along thecorridors of Time. Never once had Tina and Harl been able to stopsimultaneously with it, for a year has so many separate days andhours. The nearest they came was the halt in the night of June 8-9, when they encountered Larry, and, startled, seized him and moved onagain. 

 * * * * *

Harl continued to gaze through the eyepiece of the detectinginstrument. But nothing showed, and the mirror-grid on the table wasdark. 

"But--which way are we going?" Larry stammered. 

"Back, " said Tina. "The retrograde. .. . Wait! Do not do that!"

Larry had turned toward where the bars, less luminous, showed a darkrectangle like a window. The desire swept him to gaze out at theshining, changing scene. 

But Tina checked him. "Do not do that! Not yet! It is too great ashock in the retrograde. It was to me. "

"But where are we?"

In answer she gestured toward a series of tiny dials on the tableedge. There were at least two score of them, laid in a triple bank. Dials to record the passing minutes, hours, days; the years, thecenturies! Larry stared at the small whirring pointers. Some were ablur of swift whirling movement--the hours and days. Tina showed Larryhow to read them. The cage was passing through the year 1880. In a fewmoments of Larry's consciousness it was 1799. Then 1793. The infantAmerican nation was here now. But with the cage retrograding, soonthey would be in the Revolutionary War. 

Tina said. "The other cage may go back to 1777, if Tugh meant ill toMary Atwood, or wants revenge upon her father, at you said. We shallsee. "

They had reached 1790 when Harl gave a low ejaculation. 

"You see it?" Tina murmured. 

"Yes. Very faintly. "

Larry bent tensely forward. "Will it show on the mirror?"

"Yes; presently. We are about ten years from it. If we get closer, themirror will show it. "

But the mirror held dark. No--now it was glowing a trifle. A vagueluminosity. 

Tina moved toward the instrument controls nearby. "Watch closely, Harl. I will slow us down. "

 * * * * *

It seemed to Larry that the humming with which everything around himwas endowed, now began descending in pitch. And his head suddenly wasunsteady. A singular, wild, queer feeling was within him. An unrest. Atugging torment of every tiny cell of his body. 

Tina said. "Hold steady, Larry, for when we stop. "

"Will it shock me?"

"Yes--at first. But the shock will not harm you: it is nearly allmental. "

The mirror held an image now--the other cage. Larry saw, on thesix-inch square mirror surface, a crawling, melting scene of movement. And in the midst of it, the image of the other cage, faint andspectral. In all the mirrored movement, only the apparition of thecage was still. And this marked it; made it visible. 

Over an interval, while Larry stared, the ghostly image grew plainer. They were approaching its Time-factor!

"It is stopping, " Harl murmured. Larry was aware that he had left theeyepiece and joined Tina at the controls. 

"Tina, let us try to get it right this time. "

"Yes. "

"In 1777; but which month, would you say?"

"It has stopped! See?"

 * * * * *

Larry heard them clicking switches, and setting the controls for astop. Then he felt Tina gently push him. 

"Sit here. Standing, you might fall. "

He found himself on a bench. He could still see the mirror. The ghostof the other cage was now lined more plainly upon it. 

"This month, " said Tina, setting a switch. "Would not you say so? Andthis day. "

"But the hour, Tina? The minute?"

The vast intricate corridors of Time!

"It would be in the night. Hasten, Harl, or we will pass! Try thenight--around midnight. Even Migul has the mechanical intelligence tofear a daylight pausing. "

The controls were set for the stop. Larry heard Tina murmuring, "Oh, Ipray we may have judged with correctness!"

The vehicle was rapidly coming to a stop. Larry gripped the table, struggling to hold firm to his reeling senses. This soundless, grinding halt! His swaying gaze strayed from the mirror. Outside theglowing bars he could now discern the luminous greyness separating. Swift, soundless claps of light and dark, alternating. Daylight anddarkness. They had been blended, but now they were separating. Thepassing, retrograding days--a dozen to the second of Larry'sconsciousness. Then fewer. Vivid daylight. Black night. Daylightagain. 

"Not too slowly, Harl; we will be seen!. .. Oh, it is gone!"

Larry saw the mirror go blank. The image on it had flared to greatdistinctness, faded, and was gone. Darkness was around Larry. Thendaylight. Then darkness again. 

"Gone!" echoed Harl's disappointed voice. "But it stopped here!. .. Shall we stop, Tina?"

"Yes! Leave the control settings as they are. Larry--be careful, now. "

A dragging second of grey daylight. A plunge into night. It seemed toLarry that all the universe was soundlessly reeling. Out of the chaos, Tina was saying:

"We have stopped. Are you all right, Larry?"

"Yes, " he stammered. 

 * * * * *

He stood up. The cage room, with its faint lights, benches andsettles, instrument tables and banks of controls, was flooded withmoonlight from outside the bars. Night, and the moon and stars outthere. 

Harl slid the door open. "Come, let us look. "

The reeling chaos had fallen swiftly from Larry. With Tina's smallblack and white figure beside him, he stood at the threshold of thecage. A warm gentle night breeze fanned his face. 

A moonlit landscape lay somnolent around the cage. Trees were nearby. The cage stood in a corner of a field by a low picket fence. Behindthe trees, a ribbon of road stretched away toward a distant shiningriver. Down the road some five hundred feet, the white columns of alarge square brick house gleamed in the moonlight. And behind thehouse was a garden and a group of barns and stables. 

The three in the cage doorway stood whispering, planning. Then two ofthem stepped to the ground. They were Larry and Tina; Harl remained toguard the cage. 

The two figures on the ground paused a moment and then movedcautiously along the inside line of the fence toward the home of MajorAtwood. Strange anachronisms, these two prowling figures! A girl fromthe year 2930; a man from 1935!

And this was revolutionary New York, now. The little city lay well tothe south. It was open country up here. The New York of 1935 hadmelted away and was gone. .. . 

This was a night in August of 1777. 

CHAPTER VI

_The New York Massacre of 1935_

Dr. Alten recovered consciousness in the back yard of the house onPatton Place just a few moments after Larry had encountered thesmaller Time-traveling cage and been carried off by Harl and Tina. Previously to that, of course, the mysterious mechanism in the guiseof a giant man had abducted Mary Atwood and me in the largerTime-cage. 

Alten became aware that people were bending over him. The shots we hadtaken at the Robot had aroused the neighborhood. A policeman arrived. 

The sleeping neighbors had heard the shots, but it seemed that nonehad seen the cage, or the metal man who had come from it. Alten saidnothing. He was taken to the nearest police station where grudgingly, he told his story. He was laughed at; reprimanded for alcoholism. Evidently, according to the police sergeant, there had been a fight, and Alten had drawn the loser's end. The police confiscated the tworifles and the revolver and decided that no one but Alten had beenhurt. But at best it was a queer affair. Alten had not been shot; hewas just stiff with cold; he said a dull-red ray had fallen upon himand stiffened him with its frigid blast. Utter nonsense!

Dr. Alten was a man of standing. It was a reprehensible affair, but hewas released upon his own recognizance. He was charged with breakinginto the untenanted home of one Tugh; of illegally possessingfirearms; of disturbing the peace--a variety of offenses all rationalto the year 1935. 

 * * * * *

But Alten's case never reached even its hearing in the Magistrate'sCourt. He arrived home just after dawn, that June 9, still cold andstiff from the effects of the ray, and bruised and battered by thesweeping blow of Miguel's great iron arm. He recalled vaguely seeingLarry fall, and the iron monster bearing Mary Atwood and me away. Whathad happened to Larry, Alten could not guess, unless the Robot hadreturned, ignored him and taken his friend away. 

During that day of June 9 Alten summoned several of his scientificfriends, and to them he told fully what had happened to him. Theylistened with a keen understanding and a rational knowledge of thepossibility that what he said was true; but credibility they could notgive him. 

The noon papers came out. 

 NOTED ALIENIST ATTACKED BY GHOST Felled by One of the Fantastic Monsters of His Brain

A jocular, jibing account. Then Alten gave it up. He had about decidedto plead guilty in the Magistrate's Court to disorderly conduct andall the rest of it! That was preferable to being judged a liar, orinsane. 

 * * * * *

And then, at about 9 P. M. On the evening of June 9, the first of themechanical monsters came stalking from the house on Patton Place--thebeginning of the revenge which Tugh had threatened when arrested. Thepoliceman at the corner--one McGuire--turned in the first hystericalalarm. He rushed into a little candy and stationery store shoutingthat he had seen a piece of machinery running wild. His telephone callbrought a squad of his comrades. The Robot at first did no damage. 

McGuire later told how he saw it as it emerged from the entryway ofthe Tugh house. It came lurching out into the street--a giant thing ofdull grey metal, with tubular, jointed legs; a body with a greatbulging chest; a round head, eight or ten feet above the pavement;eyes that shot fire. 

The policeman took to his heels. There was a commotion in Patton Placeduring those next few minutes. Pedestrians saw the thing standing inthe middle of the street, staring stupidly around it. The headwobbled. Some said that the eyes shot fire; others, that it was notthe eyes, but more like a torch in its mailed hand. The torch shot asmall beam of light around the street--a beam which was dull-red. 

The pedestrians fled. Their cries brought people to the nearby housewindows. Women screamed. Presently bottles were thrown from thewindows. One of these crashed against the iron shoulder of themonster. It turned its head: as though its neck were rubber, somesaid. And it gazed upward, with a human gesture as though it were notangry, but contemptuous. 

But still, beyond a step or two in one direction or another, it merelystood and waved its torch. The little dull-red beam of light carriedno more than twenty or thirty feet. The street in a few moments wasclear of pedestrians; remained littered with glass from the brokenbottles. A taxi came suddenly around the corner, and the driver, withan almost immediate tire puncture, saw the monster. He hauled up tothe curb, left his cab and ran. 

 * * * * *

The Robot saw the taxicab, and stood gazing. It turned its torch-beamon it, and seemed surprised that the thing did not move. Then thinkingevidently that this was a less cowardly enemy than the humans, it madea rush to it. The chauffeur had not turned off his engine when hefled, so the cab stood throbbing. 

The Robot reached it; cuffed it with a huge mailed fist. Thewindshield broke; the windows were shattered; but the cab stoodpurring, planted upon its four wheels. 

Strange encounter! They say that the Robot tried to talk to it. Atlast, exasperated, it stepped backward, gathered itself and pounced onit again. Stooping, it put one of its great arms down under thewheels, the other over the hood, and with prodigious strength heavedthe cab into the air. It crashed on its side across the street, and ina moment was covered with flames. 

It was about this time that Patrolman McGuire came back to the scene. He shot at the monster a few times; hit it, he was sure. But the Robotdid not heed him. 

The block was now in chaos. People stood at most of the windows, crowds gathered at the distant street corners, while the blazingtaxicab lighted the block with a lurid glare. No one dared approachwithin a hundred feet or so of the monster. But when, after a time, itshowed no disposition to attack, throngs at every distinct point ofvantage tried to gather where they could see it. Those nearestreported back that its face was iron; that it had a nose, a wide, yawning mouth, and holes for eyes. There were certainly little lightsin the eye-holes. 

A small, fluffy white dog went dashing up to the monster and barkedbravely at its heels. It leaped nimbly away when the Robot stooped toseize it. Then, from the Robot's chest, the dull-red torch beam leapedout and down. It caught the little dog, and clung to it for aninstant. The dog stood transfixed; its bark turned to a yelp; then agurgle. In a moment it fell on its side; then lay motionless withstiffened legs sticking out. 

 * * * * *

All this happened within five minutes. McGuire's riot squad arrived, discreetly ranged itself at the end of the block and fired. The Robotby then had retreated to the entryway of the Tugh house, where itstood peering as though with curiosity at all this commotion. Therecame a clanging from the distance: someone had turned in a fire alarm. Through the gathered crowds and vehicles the engines came tearing up. 

Presently there was not one Robot, but three: a dozen! More than that, many reports said. But certain it is that within half an hour of thefirst alarm, the block in front of Tugh's home held many of the ironmonsters. And there were many human bodies lying strewn there, bythen. A few policemen had made a stand at the corner, to protect thecrowd against one of the Robots. The thing had made an unexpectedinfuriated rush. .. . 

There was a panic in the next block, when a thousand people suddenlytried to run. A score of people were trampled under foot. Two or threeof the Robots ran into that next block--ran impervious to the manyshots which now were fired at them. From what was described as slotsin the sides of their iron bodies they drew swords--long, dark, burnished blades. They ran, and at each fallen human body they made asingle stroke of decapitation, or, more generally, cut the body inhalf. 

The Robots did not attack the fire engines. Emboldened by this, firemen connected a hose and pumped a huge jet of water toward theTugh house. The Robots then rushed it. One huge mechanism--some saidit was twelve feet tall--ran heedlessly into the firemen'shigh-pressure stream, toppled backward from the force of the water andvery strangely lay still. Killed? Rather, out of order: deranged: itwas not human, to be killed. But it lay motionless, with the fire hoseplaying upon it. Then abruptly there was an explosion. The fallenRobot, with a deafening report and a puff of green flame, burst intoflying metallic fragments like shrapnel. Nearby windows were brokenfrom the violent explosion, and pieces of the flying metal were hurleda hundred feet or more. One huge chunk, evidently a plate of thething's body, struck into the crowd two blocks away, and felledseveral people. 

At this smashing of one of the mechanisms, its brother Robots went forthe first time into aggressive action. A hundred or more were pouringnow from the vacant house of the absent Tugh. .. . 

 * * * * *

The alarm by ten o'clock had spread throughout the entire city. Policereserves were called out, and by midnight soldiers were beingmobilized. Panics were starting everywhere. Millions of people crowdedin on small Manhattan Island, in the heart of which was this strangeenemy. 

Panics. .. . Yet human nature is very strange. Thousands of peoplestarted to leave Manhattan, but there were other thousands during thatfirst skirmish who did their best to try and get to the neighborhoodof Patton Place to see what was going on. They added greatly to theconfusion. Traffic soon was stalled everywhere. Traffic officers, confused, frightened by the news which was bubbled at them from everyside, gave wrong orders; accidents began to occur. And then, out ofthe growing confusion, came tangles, until, like a dammed stream, allthe city mid-section was paralyzed. Vehicles were abandonedeverywhere. 

Reports of what was happening on Patton Place grew more confused. Thegathering nearby crowds impeded the police and firemen. The Robots, byten o'clock, were using a single great beam of dull-red light. It wastwo or three feet broad. It came from a spluttering, hissing cylindermounted on runners which the Robots dragged along the ground, and thebeam was like that of a great red searchlight. It swung the length ofPatton Place in both directions. It hissed against the houses;penetrated the open windows which now were all deserted; swept thefront cornices of the roofs, where crowds of tenants and others weretrying to hide. The red beam drove back the ones near the edge, exceptthose who were stricken by its frigid blast and dropped like plummetsinto the street, where the Robots with flashing blades pounced uponthem. 

Frigid was the blast of this giant light-beam. The street, wet fromthe fire-hose, was soon frozen with ice--ice which increased under theblast of the beam, and melted in the warm air of the night when theray turned away. 

From every distant point in the city, awed crowds could see that greatshaft when it occasionally shot upward, to stain the sky with blood. 

 * * * * *

Dr. Alten by midnight was with the city officials, telling them whathe could of the origin of this calamity. They were a distracted groupindeed! There were a thousand things to do, and frantically they weregiving orders, struggling to cope with conditions so suddenlyunprecedented. A great city, millions of people, plunged intoconditions unfathomable. And every moment growing worse. One calamitybringing another, in the city, with its myriad diverse activities sointerwoven. Around Alten the clattering, terrifying reports weresurging. He sat there nearly all that night; and near dawn, anofficial plane carried him in a flight over the city. 

The panics, by midnight, were causing the most deaths. Thousands, hundreds of thousands, were trying to leave the island. The tubetrains, the subways, the elevateds were jammed. There were riotswithout number in them. Ferryboats and bridges were thronged to theircapacity. Downtown Manhattan, fortunately comparatively empty, gavespace to the crowds plunging down from the crowded foreign quartersbordering Greenwich Village. By dawn it was estimated that fivethousand people had been trampled to death by the panics in variousparts of the city, in the tubes beneath the rivers and on departingtrains. 

And another thousand or more had been killed by the Robots. How manyof these monstrous metal men were now in evidence, no one couldguess. A hundred--or a thousand. The Time-cage made many trips betweenthat night of June 9 and 10, 1935, and a night in 2930. Always itgauged its return to this same night. 

The Robots poured out into Patton Place. With running, stiff-leggedsteps, flashing swords, small light-beams darting before them, theyspread about the city. .. . 

CHAPTER VII

The Vengeance of Tugh

A myriad individual scenes of horror were enacted. Metal travesties ofthe human form ran along the city streets, overturning stalledvehicles, climbing into houses, roaming dark hallways, breaking intorooms. 

There was a woman who afterward told that she crouched in a corner, clutching her child, when the door of her room was burst in. Herhusband, who had kept them there thinking it was the safest thing todo, fought futilely with the great thing of iron. Its sword slashedhis head from his body with a single stroke. The woman and the littlechild screamed, but the monster ignored them. They had a radio, tunedto a station in New Jersey which was broadcasting the events. TheRobot seized the instrument as though in a frenzy of anger, tore itapart, then rushed from the room. 

No one could give a connected picture of the events of that horriblenight. It was a series of disjointed incidents out of which theimagination must construct the whole. 

The panics were everywhere. The streets were stalled with traffic andrunning, shouting, fighting people. And the area around GreenwichVillage brought reports of continued horror. 

The Robots were of many different forms; some pseudo-human; others, great machines running amuck--things more monstrous, more horribleeven, than those which mocked humanity. There was a great pot-belliedmonster which forced its way somehow to a roof. It encountered acrouching woman and child in a corner of the parapet, seized them, onein each of its great iron hands, and whirled them out over thehousetops. 

 * * * * *

By dawn it seemed that the Robots had mounted several projectors ofthe giant red beam on the roofs of Patton Place. They held a fullsquare mile, now, around Tugh's house. The police and firemen had longsince given up fighting them. They were needed elsewhere--the policeto try and cope with the panics, and the firemen to fight theconflagrations which everywhere began springing up. Fires, the naturaloutcome of chaos; and fires, incendiary--made by criminals who tookadvantage of the disaster to fatten like ghouls upon the dead. Theyprowled the streets. They robbed and murdered at will. 

The giant beams of the Robots carried a frigid blast for miles. Bydawn of that June 10th, the south wind was carrying from the enemyarea a perceptible wave of cold even as far as Westchester. Allen, flying over the city, saw the devastated area clearly. Ice in thestreets--smashed vehicles--the gruesome litter of sword-slashed humanbodies. And other human bodies, plucked apart; strewn. .. . 

Alten's plane flew at an altitude of some two thousand feet. In thegrowing daylight the dark prowling figures of the metal men wereplainly seen. There were no humans left alive in the captured area. The plane dropped a bomb into Washington Square where a dozen or twoof the Robots were gathered. It missed them. The plane's pilot had notrealized that they were grouped around a projector; its red shaftsprang up, caught the plane and clung to it. Frigid blast! Even atthat two thousand feet altitude, for a few seconds Alten and theothers were stiffened by the cold. The motor missed; very nearlystopped. Then an intervening rooftop cut off the beam, and the planeescaped. 

 * * * * *

All this I have pictured from what Dr. Alten subsequently told me. Heleaves my narrative now, since fate hereafter held him in the New YorkCity of 1935. But he has described for me three horrible days, andthree still more horrible nights. The whole world now was alarmed. Every nation offered its forces of air and land and sea to overcomethese gruesome invaders. Warships steamed for New York harbor. Soldiers were entrained and brought to the city outskirts. Airplanesflew overhead. On Long Island, Staten Island, and in New Jersey, infantry, tanks and artillery were massed in readiness. 

But they were all very nearly powerless to attack. Manhattan Islandstill was thronged with refugees. It was not possible for the millionsto escape; and for the first day there were hundreds of thousandshiding in their homes. The city could not be shelled. The influx oftroops was hampered by the outrush of civilians. 

By the night of the tenth, nevertheless, ten thousand soldiers weresurrounding the enemy area. It embraced now all the mid-section of theisland. The soldiers rushed in. Machine-guns were set up. 

But the Robots were difficult to find. With this direct attack theybegan fighting with an almost human caution. Their bodies wereimpervious to bullets, save perhaps in the orifices of the face whichmight or might not be vulnerable. But when attacked, they skulked inthe houses, or crouched like cautious animals under the smashedvehicles. Then there were times when they would wade forward directlyinto machine-gun fire--unharmed--plunging on until the gunners fledand the Robots wreaked their fury upon the abandoned gun. 

The only hand-to-hand conflicts took place on the afternoon of June10th. A full thousand soldiers were killed--and possibly six or eightof the Robots. The troops were ordered away after that; they madelines across the island to the north and to the south, to keep theenemy from increasing its area. Over Greenwich Village now, thecircling planes--at their highest altitude, to avoid the upflungcrimson beams--dropped bombs. Hundreds of houses there were wrecked. Tugh's house could not be positively identified, though the attack wasdirected at it most particularly. Afterward, it was found by chance tohave escaped. 

 * * * * *

The night of June 10th brought new horrors. The city lights failed. Against all the efforts of the troops and the artillery fire which nowwas shelling the Washington Square area, the giant mechanisms pushednorth and south. By midnight, with their dull-red beams illumining thedarkness of the canyon streets, they had reached the Battery, andspread northward beyond the northern limits of Central Park. 

It is estimated that by then there were still a million people onManhattan Island. 

The night of the 11th, the Robots made their real attack. Those whosaw it, from planes overhead, say that upon a roof near WashingtonSquare a machine was mounted from which a red beam sprang. It was notof parallel rays, like the others; this one spread. And of such powerit was, that it painted the leaden clouds of the threatening, overcastnight. Every plane, at whatever high altitude, felt its frigid blastand winged hastily away to safety. 

Spreading, dull-red beam! It flashed with a range of miles. Its lightseemed to cling to the clouds, staining like blood; and to cling tothe air itself with a dull lurid radiance. 

It was a hot night, that June 11th, with a brewing thunderstorm. Therehad been occasional rumbles of thunder and lightning flashes. Thetemperature was perhaps 90° F. 

Then the temperature began falling. A million people were hiding inthe great apartment houses and homes of the northern sections, orstill struggling to escape over the littered bridges or by theparalyzed transportation systems--and that million people saw thecrimson radiance and felt the falling temperature. 

80°. Then 70°. Within half an hour it was at 30°! In unheated houses, in midsummer, in the midst of panic, the people were swept by chillingcold. With no adequate clothing available they suffered greatly--andthen abruptly they were freezing. Children wailing with the cold; thenasleep in numbed, last slumber. .. . 

Zero weather in midsummer! And below zero! How cold it got, there isno one to say. The abandoned recording instrument in the WeatherBureau was found, at 2:16 A. M. , the morning of June 12, 1935, to havetouched minus 42° F. 

The gathering storm over the city burst with lightning and thunderclaps through the blood-red radiance. And then snow began falling. Asteady white downpour, a winter blizzard with the lightning flashingabove it, and the thunder crashing. 

With the lightning and thunder and snow, crazy winds sprang up. Theywhirled and tossed the thick white snowflakes; swept in blasts alongthe city streets. It piled the snow in great drifts against thehouses; whirled and sucked it upward in white powdery geysers. 

 * * * * *

At 2:30 A. M. There came a change. The dull-red radiance which sweptthe city changed in color. Through the shades of the spectrum it swungup to violet. And no longer was it a blast of cold, but of heat! Ofwhat inherent temperature the ray of that spreading beam may havebeen, no one can say. It caught the houses, and everything inflammableburst into flame. Conflagrations were everywhere--a thousand spots ofyellow-red flames, like torches, with smoke rolling up from them tomingle with the violet glow overhead. 

The blizzard was gone. The snow ceased. The storm clouds rolled away, blasted by the pendulum winds which lashed the city. 

By 3 A. M. The city temperature was over 100° F--the dry, blisteringheat of a midsummer desert. The northern city streets were litteredwith the bodies of people who had rushed from their homes and fallenin the heat, the wild winds and the suffocating smoke outside. 

And then, flung back by the abnormal winds, the storm clouds crashedtogether overhead. A terrible storm, born of outraged nature, ventitself on the city. The fires of the burning metropolis presently diedunder the torrent of falling water. Clouds of steam whirled and tossedand hissed close overhead, and there was a boiling hot rain. 

By dawn the radiance of that strange spreading beam died away. Thedaylight showed a wrecked, dead city. Few humans indeed were leftalive on Manhattan that dawn. The Robots and their apparatus hadgone. .. . 

The vengeance of Tugh against the New York City of 1935 wasaccomplished. 

(_To be continued. _)

[Illustration: Advertisement. ]

Hell's Dimension

_By Tom Curry_

[Illustration: _Just as the terrific unknown force reached its apex, she steppedacross the plate. _]

[Sidenote: Professor Lambert deliberately ventures into a VibrationalDimension to join his fiancee in its magnetic torture-fields. ]

"Now, Professor Lambert, tell us what you have done with the body ofyour assistant Miss Madge Crawford. Her car is outside your door, hasstood there since early yesterday morning. There are no footprintsleading away from the house and you can't expect us to believe that anairplane picked her off the roof. It will make it a lot easier if youtell us where she is. Her parents are greatly worried about her. Whenthey telephoned, you refused to talk to them, would not allow them tospeak to Miss Crawford. They are alarmed as to her fate. While you arenot the sort of man who would injure a young woman, still, things lookbad for you. You had better explain fully. "

John Lambert, a man of about thirty-six, tall, spare, with black hairwhich was slightly tinged with gray at the temples in spite of hisyouth, turned large eyes which were filled with agony upon hisquestioners. 

Lambert was already internationally famous for his unique andastounding experiments in the realm of sound and rhythm. He had beenendowed by one of the great electrical companies to do original work, and his laboratory, in which he lived, was situated in a large tractof isolated woodland some forty miles from New York City. It wasnecessary for the success of his work that as few disturbing noises aspossible be made in the neighborhood. Many of his experiments withsound and etheric waves required absolute quiet and freedom frominterrupting noises. The delicate nature of some of the machines heused would not tolerate so much as the footsteps of a man within ahundred yards, and a passing car would have disrupted them entirely. 

 * * * * *

Lambert was terribly nervous; he trembled under the gaze of the sterndetective, come with several colleagues from a neighboring town at thecall of Madge Crawford's frightened family. The girl, whose picturestood on a working table nearby, looked at them from the photograph asa beautiful young woman of twenty-five, light of hair, with large eyesand a lovely face. 

Detective Phillips pointed dramatically to the likeness of the missinggirl. "Can you, " he said, "look at her there, and deny you loved her?And if she did not love you in return, then we have a motive for whatyou have done--jealousy. Come, tell us what you have done with her. Our men will find her, anyway; they are searching the cellar for hernow. You can't hope to keep her, alive, and if she is dead--"

Lambert uttered a cry of despair, and put his face in his longfingers. "She--she--don't say she's dead!"

"Then you did love her!" exclaimed Phillips triumphantly, andexchanged glances with his companions. 

"Of course I love her. And she returned my love. We were secretlyengaged, and were to be married when we had finished these extremelyimportant experiments. It is infamous though, to accuse me of havingkilled her; if I have done so, then it was no fault of mine. "

"Then you did kill her?"

"No, no. I cannot believe she is really gone. "

"Why did you evade her parents' inquiries?"

"Because . .. I have been trying to bring her . .. To re-materializeher. "

"You mean to bring her back to life?"

"Yes. "

"Couldn't a doctor do that better than you, if she is hidden somewhereabout here?" asked Phillips gravely. 

"No, no. You do not understand. She cannot be seen, she hasdematerialized. Oh, go away. I'm the only man, save, possibly, myfriend Doctor Morgan, who can help her now. And Morgan--I've thoughtof calling him, but I've been working every instant to get the rightcombination. Go away, for God's sake!"

"We can't go away until we have found out Miss Crawford's fate, " saidPhillips patiently. 

 * * * * *

Another sleuth entered the immense laboratory. He made his way throughthe myriad strange machines, a weird collection of xylophones, gongs, stone slabs cut in peculiar patterns to produce odd rhythmic sounds, electrical apparatus of all sorts. Near Phillips was a plate some feetsquare, of heavy metal, raised from the floor on poles of a differentsubstance. About the ceiling were studs thickly set of the same sortof metal as was the big plate. 

One of the sleuths tapped his forehead, pointing to Lambert as thelatter nervously lighted a cigarette. 

The newcomer reported to Phillips. He held in his hand two or threesheets of paper on which something was written. 

"The only other person here is a deaf mute, " said the sleuth toPhillips, his superior. "I've got his story. He writes that he takescare of things, cooks their meals and so on. And he writes furtherthat he thinks the woman and this guy Lambert were in love with eachother. He has no idea where she has gone to. Here, you read it. "

Phillips took the sheets and continued: "'Yesterday morning about teno'clock I was passing the door of the laboratory on my way to make upProfessor Lambert's bed. Suddenly I noticed a queer, shimmering, greenish-blue light streaming down from the walls and ceiling of thelaboratory. I was right outside the place and though I cannot hearanything, I was knocked down and I twisted and wriggled around like asnake. It felt like something with a thousand little paws but withgreat strength was pushing me every way. When there was a lull, andthe light had stopped for a few moments, I staggered to my feet andran madly for my own quarters, scared out of my head. As I went by thekitchen, I saw Miss Crawford at the sink there, filling some vases andarranging flowers as she usually did every morning. 

"'If she called to me, I did not hear her or notice her lips moving. Ibelieve she came to the door. 

"'I was going to quit, when I recovered myself, angry at what hadoccurred; but then, I began to feel ashamed for being such a baby, forProfessor Lambert has been very good to me. About fifteen minutesafter I went to my room, I was able to return to the kitchen. MissCrawford was not there, though the flowers and vases were. Then, as Istarted to work, still a little alarmed, Professor Lambert camerushing into the kitchen, an expression of terror on his face. Hismouth was open, and I think he was calling. He then ran out, back tothe laboratory, and I have not seen Miss Madge since. ProfessorLambert has been almost continuously in the work-room since then, and--I kept away from it, because I was afraid. '"

 * * * * *

Two more members of Phillips' squad broke into the laboratory and cametoward the chief. They had been working at physical labor, for theywere still perspiring and one regarded his hands with a ruefulexpression. 

"Any luck?" asked Phillips eagerly. 

"No, boss. We been all over the place, and we dug every spot we couldget to earth in the cellar. Most of it's three-inch concrete, withouta sign of a break. "

"Did you look in the furnace?"

"We looked there the first thing. She ain't there. "

There were several closets in the laboratory, and Phillips opened allof them and inspected them. As he moved near the big plate, Lambertuttered a cry of warning. "Don't disturb that, don't touch anythingnear it!"

"All right, all right, " said Phillips testily. 

The skeptical sleuths had classified Lambert as a "nut, " and werepractically sure he had done away with Madge Crawford because shewould not marry him. 

Still, they needed better evidence than their mere beliefs. There wasno corpus delicti, for instance. 

"Gentlemen, " said Lambert at last, controlling his emotions with agreat effort. "I will admit to you that I am in trepidation and astate of mental torture as to Miss Crawford's fate. You are delayingmatters, keeping me from my work. "

"He thinks about work when the girl he claims he loves hasdisappeared, " said Doherty, in a loud whisper to Phillips. Doherty wasone of the sleuths who had been digging in the cellar, and the hardwork had made his temper short. 

"You must help us find Miss Crawford before we can let you alone, "said Phillips. "Can't you understand that you are under gravesuspicion of having injured her, hidden her away? This is a seriousmatter, Professor Lambert. Your experiments can wait. "

"This one cannot, " shouted Lambert, shaking his fists. "You arefools!"

"Steady now, " said Doherty. 

 * * * * *

"Perhaps you had better come with us to the district attorney'soffice, " went on Phillips. "There you may come to your senses andrealize the futility of trying to cover up your crime--if you havecommitted one. If you have not, why do you not tell us where MissCrawford is?"

"Because I do not know myself, " replied Lambert. "But you can't takeme away from here. I beg of you, gentlemen, allow me a little moretime. I must have it. "

Phillips shook his head. "Not unless you tell us logically what hasoccurred, " he said. 

"Then I must, though I do not think you will comprehend or evenbelieve me. Briefly, it is this: yesterday morning I was working onthe final series of experiments with a new type of harmonic overtonesplus a new type of sinusoidal current which I had arranged with aseries of selenium cells. When I finally threw the switch--remember, Iwas many weeks preparing the apparatus, and had just put the finaltouches on early that morning--there was a sound such as never hadbeen heard before by human ears, an indescribable sound, terrifyingand mysterious. Also, there was a fierce, devouring verditer bluelight, and this came from the plates and studs you see, but so greatwas its strength that it got out of control and leaped about the roomlike a live thing. For some moments, while it increased in intensityas I raised the power of the current by means of the switch I held inmy hand, I watched and listened in fascination. My instruments hadceased to record, though they are the most delicate ever invented andcan handle almost anything which man can even surmise. "

 * * * * *

The perspiration was pouring from Lambert's face, as he recounted hisstory. The detectives listened, comprehending but a little of themeaning of the scientist's words. 

"What has this to do with Miss Crawford?" asked Doherty impatiently. 

Phillips held up his hand to silence the other sleuth. "Let himfinish, " he ordered. "Go on, professor. "

"The sensations which I was undergoing became unendurable, " went onLambert, in a low, hoarse voice. "I was forced to cry out in pain andconfusion. 

"Miss Crawford evidently heard my call, for a few moments later, justas the terrific unknown force reached its apex, she dashed into thelaboratory, and stepped across the plate you see there. 

"I was powerless. Though I shut off the current by a superhumaneffort, she--she was gone!"

Lambert put his face in his hands, a sob shook his broad shoulders. 

"Gone?" repeated Phillips. "What do you mean, gone?"

"She disappeared, before my very eyes, " said the professor shakily. "Torn into nothingness by the fierce force of the current or sound. Since then, I have been trying to reproduce the conditions of theexperiment, for I wish to bring her back. If I cannot do so, then Iwant to join her, wherever she has gone. I love her, I know now that Icannot possibly live without her. Will you please leave me alone, now, so that I can continue?"

Doherty laughed derisively. "What a story, " he jeered. 

"Keep quiet, Doherty, " ordered Phillips. "Now, Professor Lambert, yourexplanation of Miss Crawford's disappearance does not sound logical tous, but still we are willing to give you every chance to bring herback, if what you say is true. We cannot leave you entirely alone, because you might try to escape or you might carry out your threat ofsuicide. Therefore, I am going to sit over there in the corner, quietly, where I can watch you but will not interfere with your work. We will give you until midnight to prove your story. Then you must gowith us to the district attorney. Do you agree to that?"

 * * * * *

Lambert nodded, eagerly. "I agree. Let me work in peace, and if I donot succeed then you may take me anywhere you wish. If you can, " headded, in an undertone. 

Doherty and the others, at Phillips' orders, filed from thelaboratory. "One thing more, professor, " said Phillips, when they werealone and the professor was preparing to work. "How do you explain thefact, if your story is true, that Miss Crawford was killed and made todisappear, while you yourself, close by, were uninjured?"

"Do you see these garments?" asked Lambert, indicating some blackclothes which lay on a bench nearby. "They insulated me from thecurrent and partially protected me from the sound. Though the forcewas very great, great enough to penetrate my insulation, it washandicapped in my case because of the garments. "

"I see. Well, you may go on. "

Phillips moved in the chair he had taken, from time to time. He couldhear the noises of his men, still searching the premises for MadgeCrawford, and Professor Lambert heard them, too. 

"Will you tell your men to be quiet?" he cried at last. 

There were dark circles under Lambert's eyes. He was working in astate of feverish anxiety. When the girl he loved had dematerializedfrom under his very eyes, panic had seized him; he had ripped awaywires to break the current and lost the thread of his experiment, sothat he could not reproduce it exactly without much labor. 

The scientist put on the black robes, and Phillips wished he too hadsome protective armor, even though he did believe that Lambert hadtold them a parcel of lies. The deaf mute's story was not tooreassuring. Phillips warned his companions to be more quiet, and hehimself sat quite still. 

 * * * * *

Lambert knew that the sleuths thought he was stark mad. He was awareof the fact that he had but a few hours in which to save the girl whohad come at his cry to help him, who had loved him and whom he loved, only to be torn into some place unknown by the forces which werereleased in his experiment. And he knew he would rather die with herthan live without her. 

He labored feverishly, though he tried to keep his brain calm in orderto win. His notes helped him up to a certain point, but when he hadmade the final touches he had not had time to bring the data up to themoment, being eager to test out his apparatus. It was while testingthat the awful event had occurred and he had seen Madge Crawforddisappear before his very eyes. 

Her eyes, large and frightened, burned in his mind. 

The deaf mute, Felix, a small, spare man of about fifty, sent theprofessor some food and coffee through one of the sleuths. Lambertswallowed the coffee, but waved away the rest, impatiently. Phillips, watching his suspect constantly, was served a light supper at the endof the afternoon. 

There seemed to be a million wires to be touched, tested, and variousstrange apparatus. Several times, later on in the evening. Lambertthrew the big switch with an air of expectancy, but little happened. Then Lambert would go to work again, testing, testing--adjusting thisand that till Phillips swore under his breath. 

"Only an hour more, professor, " said Phillips, who was bored to deathand cramped from trying to obey the professor's orders to keep still. A circle of cigarette-ends surrounded the sleuth. 

"Only an hour, " agreed Lambert. "Will you please be quiet, my man?This is a matter of my fiancée's life or death. "

Phillips was somewhat disgruntled, for he felt he had done Lambertquite a favor in allowing him to remain in the laboratory for so long, to prove his story. 

"I wish Doctor Morgan were here; I ought to have sent for him, Isuppose, " said Lambert, a few minutes later. "Will you allow me to gethim? I cannot seem to perfect this last stage. "

"No time, now, " declared Phillips. "I said till midnight. "

It was obvious to Lambert that the detective had become certain duringthe course of the evening that the scientist was mad. The ceaselessfiddling and the lack of results or even spectacular sights hadconvinced Phillips that he had to do with a crank. 

"I think I have it now, " said Lambert coolly. 

"What?" asked Phillips. 

"The original combination. I had forgotten one detail in theexcitement, and this threw me off. Now I believe I will succeed--inone way or another. I warn you, be careful. I am about to releaseforces which may get out of my control. "

"Well, now, don't get reckless, " begged Phillips nervously. The arrayof machines had impressed him, even if Lambert did seem a fool. 

"You insist upon remaining, so it is your own risk, " said Lambertcoolly. 

Lambert, in the strange robes, was a bizarre figure. The hood wasthrown back, exposing his pale, black-bearded face, the wan eyes withdark circles under them, and the twitching lips. 

"If you find yourself leaving this vale of tears, " went on thescientist, ironically, to the sleuth, "you will at least have thecomfort of realizing that as the sound-force disintegrates your mortalform you are among the first of men to be attuned to the vibrations ofthe unknown sound world. All matter is vibration; that has beenproven. A building of bricks, if shaken in the right manner, fallsinto its component parts; a bridge, crossed by soldiers in certainrhythmic time, is torn from its moorings. A tuning fork, receiving thesound vibrations from one of a similar size and shape begins tovibrate in turn. These are homely analogies, but applied to the lessfamiliar sound vibrations, which make up our atomic world, they mayhelp you to understand how the terrific forces I have discovered candisintegrate flesh. "

The scientist looked inquiringly at Phillips. As the sleuth did notmove, but sat with folded arms, Lambert shrugged and said, "I amready. "

Lambert raised his hood, and Phillips said, in a spirit of bravado, "You can't scare me out of here. "

"Here goes the switch, " cried Lambert. 

He made the contact, as he had before. He stood for a moment, and thistime the current gained force. The experimenter pushed his lever allthe way over. 

 * * * * *

A terrible greenish-blue light suddenly illuminated the laboratory, and through the air there came sound vibrations which seemed to tearat Phillips' body. He found himself on the floor, knocked from hischair, and he writhed this way and that, speechless, suffering atorment of agony. His whole flesh seemed to tremble in unison with thewaves which emanated from the machines which Lambert manipulated. 

After what seemed hours to the suffering sleuth, the force diminished, and soon Phillips was able to rise. Trembling, the detective cursedand yelled for help in a high-pitched voice. 

Lambert had thrown back his hood, and was rocking to and fro in agony. 

"Madge, Madge, " he cried, "what have I done! Come back to me, comeback!"

Doherty and the others came running in at their chief's shouts. "Arrest him, " ordered Phillips shakily. "I've stood enough of thisnonsense. "

The detectives started for Lambert. He saw them coming, and swiftlythrew off the protective garments he wore. 

"Stand back!" he cried, and threw the switch all the way over. Theverditer green light smashed through the air, and the queer soundsensations smacked and tore them; Doherty, who had drawn a revolverwhen he was answering Phillips' cries, fired the gun into the air, andthe report seemed to battle with the vibrating ether. 

Lambert, as he threw the switch, leaped forward and landed on themetal plate under the ceiling studs, in the very center of the awfuldisturbance and unprotected from its force. 

For a few moments, Lambert felt racking pain, as though something weretearing at his flesh, separating the very atoms. The scientist saw thewriggling figures of the sleuths, in various strange position, but hisimpressions were confused. His head whirled round and round, he swayedto and fro, and, finally, he thought he fell down, or rather, that hehad melted, as a lump of sugar dissolves in water. 

"He's gone--gone--"

In the heart of nothingness was Lambert, his body torn and racked in ashrieking chaos of sound and a blinding glare of iridescent lightwhich seemed too much to bear. 

His last conscious thought was a prayer, that, having failed to bringback his sweetheart, Madge Crawford, he was undergoing a step towardthe same destination to which he had sent her. 

 * * * * *

John Lambert came to with a shudder. But it was not a mortal shudder. He could sense no body; had no sense of being confined by matter. Hewas in a strange, chilly place--a twilight region, limitless, withoutdimensions. 

Yet he could feel something, in an impersonal way, vaguelyindifferent. He had no pain now. 

He was moving, somehow. He had one impelling desire, and that was todiscover Madge Crawford. Perhaps it was this thought which directedhis movements. 

Intent upon finding the girl, if she was indeed in this same strangeworld that he was, he did not notice for some time--how long, he hadno way of telling--that there were other beings which tried to impedehis progress. But as he grew more accustomed to the unfamiliarsensations he was undergoing, he found his path blocked again andagain by queer beings. 

They were living, without doubt, and had intelligence, and evincedhostility toward him. But they were shapeless, shapeless as amoebas. He heard them in a sort of soundless whisper, and could see themwithout the use of eyes. And he shuddered, though he could feel nobody in which he might be confined. Still, when he pinched viciouslywith invisible fingers at the spot where his face should have been, atwinge of pain registered on the vague consciousness which appeared tobe all there was to him. 

He was not sure of his substance, though he could evidently experiencehuman sensations with his amorphous body. He did not know whether hecould see; yet, he was dodging this way and that, as the beings whooccupied this world tried to stop him. 

They gave him the impression of gray shapes, and in coppery shadowsthings gleamed and closed in on him. 

He seemed to hear a cry, and he knew that he was receiving a call forhelp from Madge Crawford. He tried to run, pushed determinedly towardthe spot, impelled by his love for the girl. 

 * * * * *

Now, as he hurried, he occasionally was stopped short by collisionwith the formless shapes which were all about him. He was hampered bythem, for they followed him, making a sound like wind heard in adream. Whatever medium he was in was evidently thickly inhabited bythe hostile beings who claimed this world as their own. Though hecould not actually feel the medium, he could sense that it was heavy. He leaped and ran, fighting his way through the increasing hosts, andthe roar of their voice-impressions increased in his consciousness. 

Yet there seemed to be nothing, nothing tangible save vagueness. Hefelt he was in a blind spot in space, a place of no dimensions, notime, where beings abhorred by nature, things which had neverdeveloped any dimensional laws, existed. 

The cry for help struck him, with more force this time. Lambert, whatever form he was in, realised that he was close to the end of hisjourney to Madge Crawford. 

He tried to speak, and had the impression that he said somethingreassuring. He then bumped into some vibrational being which he knewwas Madge. His ears could not hear, nor could his flesh feel, but hiswhole form or cerebrum sensed he held the woman he loved in his arms. 

And she was speaking to him, in accents of fear, begging him to saveher. 

"John, John, you have come at last. They have been torturing meterribly. Save me. "

"Darling Madge, I will do everything I can. Now I have found you, andwe are together and will never part. Can you hear me?"

"I know what you are thinking, and what you wish to say. I can'texactly hear; it all seems vague, and impossible. Yet I can suffer. They have been hitting me with something which makes me shudder andshake--there, they are at it again. "

 * * * * *

Lambert felt the sensations, now, which the girl had made known tohim. He felt crowded by gray beings, and his existence was troubled byspasms of pain-impressions. He knew Madge was crying out, too. 

He could not comprehend the attacks, or guess their meaning. But thesituation was unendurable. 

Anger shook him, and he began to fight, furiously but vaguely. Theywere closely hemmed in, but when Lambert began to strike out withhands and legs, the beings gave way a little. The scientist tried toshout, and though he could actually hear nothing, the result wasgratifying. The formless creatures seemed to scatter and draw back inconfusion as he yelled his defiance. 

"They hate that, " Madge said to him. "I have screamed myself hoarseand that is why they have not killed me--if I can be killed. "

"I do not believe we can. But they can torture us, " replied Lambert. "It is an everlasting half-life or quarter-life, and these creatureswho call this Hell's Dimension home, have nothing but hatred for us intheir consciousness. "

The inhabitants of the imperfect world had closed in once again andthe sharp instruments of torture they used were being thrust into theinvisible bodies of the two humans. Each time, Lambert was unable torestrain his cries, for it seemed that he was being torn to pieces byvibrations. 

He yelled until he could not speak above a whisper, or at least untilthe impressions of speech he gave forth did not trouble the beings. The two humans, still bound to some extent by their mortal beliefs, were chivvied to and fro, and struck and bullied. The creatures seemedto delight in this sport. 

The two felt they could not die; yet they could suffer terribly. Wouldthis go on through eternity? Was there no release?

 * * * * *

They were trying to tear Madge away from him. She was fighting them, and Lambert, in a frenzy of rage, made a determined effort to get awaywith the girl from their tormentors. 

They retreated before his onslaughts. Drawing Madge after him, Lambertput down his head--or believed he was doing so--and ran as fast as hecould at the beings. 

He bumped into some invisible forms and was slowed in his rush, but heshouted and flailed about with his arms, and tried to kick. Madgehelped by screaming and striking out. They made some distance in thisway, or so they thought, and the horrid creatures gave way beforethem. 

All about them was the coppery sensation of the medium in which theymoved: Lambert as he became more used to the form he was inhabiting, he began to think he could discern dreadful eyes which staredunblinkingly at the couple. 

He fought on, and believed they had come to a spot where the beingsdid not molest them, though they still sensed the things glaring atthem. 

Were they on some invisible eminence, above the reach of these queercreatures?

"We might as well stop here, for if we try to go farther we may cometo a worse place, " said Lambert. 

They rested there, in temporary peace, together at last. 

 * * * * *

"I seem to be happy now, " said Madge, clinging close. "I feared Iwould never see you again. John dear. I ran to you when you called outthat day and when I crossed the plate, I was torn and racked andknocked down. When I next experienced sensation, it was in thisterrible form. I am becoming more used to it, but I kept crying outfor you: the beings, as soon as they discovered my presence, began totorment me. More and more have been collecting, and I have a sensationof seeing them as horrible, revolting beasts. Oh, John, I don't thinkI could have stood it much longer, if you hadn't come to me. They weredriving me on, on, on, ceaselessly torturing me. "

"Curse them, " said Lambert. "I wish I could really get hold of some ofthem. Perhaps, Madge, I will be able to think of some escape for usfrom this Hell's Dimension. "

"Yes, darling. I could not bear to think that we are eternally damnedto exist among these beings, hurt by them and unable to get away. HowI wish we were back in the laboratory, at the tea table. How happy wewere there!"

"And we will be again, Madge. " Lambert was far from feeling hopeful, but he tried to encourage the girl into thinking they might get away. 

However, he was unable to dissimulate. She felt his anguish for hersafety. "But I know now that you love me. I can feel it stronger thanever before, John. It seems like a great rock to which I can alwayscling, your love. It projects me from the hatred that these beastspour out against us. "

Since they had no sense of time, they could not tell how long theywere allowed to remain unmolested. But in each other's company theywere happy, though each one was afraid for the safety of the lovedone. 

They spoke of the mortal life they had lived, and their love. Theyfelt no need of food or water, but clung together in a dimensionlessuniverse, held up by love. 

 * * * * *

The lull came to an end, at last. There was no change in the copperyvagueness about them which they sensed as the surrounding ether, butall was changeless, boundless. Lambert, close to Madge Crawford, feltthat they were about to be attacked. 

He had swift, temporary impressions of seeing saucerlike, unblinkingeyes, and then hordes of bizarre inhabitants started to climb up totheir perch. 

For a short while, Lambert and Madge fought them off, thrusting atthem, seeming to push them backward down the intangible slope; thecries which the dematerialized humans uttered also helped to hold theleaders of the attacking army partially in check, but the vast numberof beings swept forward. 

The thrusts of the torture-fields they emanated became more and moreracking, as the two unfortunates shuddered in horror and pain. 

The power to demonstrate loud noise was evidently impossible to thecreatures, for their only sounds came to Madge Crawford and JohnLambert as long-drawn out, almost unbearable squeaks, mouse-like incharacter. Perhaps they had never had the faculty of speech, sincethey did not need it to communicate with one another; perhaps theyrealized that the racket they could make would hurt them as much as itdid their enemies. 

Lambert, Madge clinging to him, was forced backward down the slope, and the beings had the advantage of height. He could not again reachthe eminence, but the way behind seemed to clear quickly enough, though thrusts were made at him, innumerable times with thetorture-fields. 

The hordes pushed them backward, and ever back. 

 * * * * *

They were forced on for some distance. As they retreated, the waybecome easier, and fewer and fewer of the beings impeded the channelalong which they moved, though in front of them and on all sides, above, beneath, they were pressed by the hordes. 

"They are forcing us to some place they want us to go, " said Lambertdesperately. 

"We can do nothing more, " replied the girl. 

Lambert felt her quiet confidence in him, and that as long as theywere together, all was well. 

"Maybe they can kill us, somehow, " he said. 

And now, Lambert felt the way was clear to the rear. There was asudden rush of the creatures, and needlelike fields were impelledviciously into the spaces the two humans occupied. 

Madge cried out in pain, and Lambert shouted. The throng drew awayfrom them as suddenly as it had surged forward, and an instant laterthe pair, clinging together, felt that they were falling, falling, falling. .. . 

"Are you all right, Madge?"

"Yes, John. "

But he knew she was suffering. How long they fell he did not know, butthey stopped at last. No sooner had they come to rest than they wereassailed with sensations of pain which made both cry out in anguish. 

There, in the spot where they had been thrust by the hordes, they feltthat there was some terrific vibration which racked and tore at theirinvisible forms continuously, sending them into spasms of sharpmisery. 

They both were forced to give vent to their feelings by loud cries. But they could not command their movements any longer. When they triedto get away, their limbs moved but they felt that they remained in thesame spot. 

 * * * * *

The pain shook every fraction of their souls. 

"We--we are in some pit of hell, into which they have thrown us, John, " gasped Madge. 

He knew she was shivering with the torture of that great vibrationfrom which there was no escape, that they were in a prison-pit ofHell's Dimension. 

"I--oh--John--I'm dying!"

But he was powerless to help her. He suffered as much as she. Yetthere was no weakening of his sensations; he was in as much torture ashe had been at the start. He knew that they could not die and couldnever escape from this misery of hell. 

Their cries seemed to disturb the vacuum about. Lambert, shivering andshaking with pain, was aware that great eyes, similar to those whichthey had thought they saw above, were now upon them. Squeaks wereimpressed upon him, squeaks which expressed disapprobation. There weresome of the beings in the pit with them. 

Madge knew they were there, too. She cried out in terror, "Will theyadd to our misery?"

But the creatures in the vacuum were pinned to the spots theyoccupied, as were Madge and Lambert. From their squeaks it was evidentthey suffered, too, and were fellow prisoners of the mortals. 

"Probably the cries we make disturb them, " said Lambert. "Vibrationsto which we and they are not attuned are torture to the form we arein. Evidently the inhabitants of this hell world punish offenders bycondemning them to this eternal torture. "

"Why--why did they treat us so?"

"Perhaps we jarred upon them, hurt them, because we were not of theirkind exactly, " said Lambert. "Perhaps it was just their natural hatredof us as strangers. "

 * * * * *

They did not grow used to the terrible eternity of torments. No, ifanything, it grew worse as it went on. Still, they could visualize noend to the existence to which they were bound. Throbs of awfulintensity rent them, tore them apart myriad times, yet they still feltas keenly as before and suffered just as much. There was no death forthem, no release from the intangible world in which they were. 

Their fellow prisoners squeaked at them, as though imploring them notto add to the agony by uttering discordant cries. But it wasimpossible for Madge to keep quiet, and Lambert shouted in anguishfrom time to time. 

There seemed to be no end to it. 

And yet, after what was eternity to the sufferers, Madge spokehopefully. 

"Darling John, I--I fear I am really going to die. I am growingweaker. I can feel the pain very little now. It is all vague, and isgetting less real to me. Good-by, sweetheart, I love you, and I alwayswill--"

Lambert uttered a strangled cry, "No, no. Don't leave me, Madge. "

He clung to her, yet she was becoming extremely intangible to him. Shewas melting away from his embrace, and Lambert felt that he, too, wasweaker, even less real than he had been. He hoped that if it was theend, they would go together. 

Desperately, he tried to hold her with him, but he had little abilityto do so. The torture was still racking his consciousness, but wasbecoming more dreamlike. 

There was a terrific snap, suddenly, and Lambert lost allconsciousness. .. . 

 * * * * *

"Water, water!"

Lambert, opening his eyes, felt his body writhing about, andexperienced pain that was--mortal. A bluish-green light dazzled hispupils and made him blink. 

Something cut into his flesh, and Lambert rolled about, trying toescape. He bumped into something, something soft; he clung to thisform, and knew that he was holding on to a human being. Then the lightdied out, and in its stead was the yellow, normal glow of the electriclights. Weak, famished, almost dead of thirst, Lambert looked abouthim at the familiar sights of his laboratory. He was lying on thefloor, close by the metal plate, and at his side, unconscious butstill alive to judge by her rising and falling breast, was MadgeCrawford. 

Someone bent over him, and pressed a glass of water against his lips. He drank, watching while a mortal whom Lambert at last realized wasDetective Phillips bathed Madge Crawford's temples with water from apitcher and forced a little between her pale, drawn lips. 

Lambert tried to rise, but he was weak, and required assistance. Hewas dazed, still, and they sat him down in a chair and allowed him tocome to. 

He shuddered from time to time, for he still thought he could feel thetorture which he had been undergoing. But he was worried about Madge, and watched anxiously as Phillips, assisted by another man, workedover the girl. 

At last, Madge stirred and moaned faintly. They lifted her to a bench, where they gently restored her to full consciousness. 

When she could sit up, she at once cried out for Lambert. 

The scientist had recovered enough to rise to his feet and staggertoward her. "Here I am, darling, " he said. 

"John--we're alive--we're back in the laboratory!"

"Ah, Lambert. Glad to see you. " A heavy voice spoke, and Lambert forthe first time noticed the black-clad figure which stood to one side, near the switchboard, hidden by a large piece of apparatus. 

"Dr. Morgan!" cried Lambert. 

Althaus Morgan, the renowned physicist, came forward calmly, withoutstretched hand. "So, you realized your great ambition, eh?" he saidcuriously. "But where would you be if I had not been able to bring youback?"

"In Hell--or Hell's Dimension, anyway, " said Lambert. 

He went to Madge, took her in his arms. "Darling, we are safe. Morganhas managed to re-materialize us. We will never again be cast into thevoid in this way. I shall destroy the apparatus and my notes. "

Doherty, who had been out of the room on some errand, came into thelaboratory. He shouted when he saw Lambert standing before him. 

"So you got him, " he cried. "Where was he hidin'?"

His eyes fell upon Madge Crawford, then, and he exclaimed insatisfaction. "You found her, eh?"

"No, " said Phillips. "They came back. They suddenly appeared out ofnothing, Doherty. "

"Don't kid me, " growled Doherty. "They were hidin' in a closetsomewhere. Maybe they can fool you guys, but not me. "

Lambert spoke to Phillips. "I'm starving to death and I think MissCrawford must be, too. Will you tell Felix to bring us some food, plenty of it?"

One of the sleuths went to the kitchen to give the order. Lambertturned to Morgan. 

"How did you manage to bring us back?" he asked. 

 * * * * *

Morgan shrugged. "It was all guess work at the last. I at first couldcheck the apparatus by your notes, and this took some time. You knowyou have written me in detail about what you were working on, so whenI was summoned by Detective Phillips, who said you had mentioned myname to him as the only one who could help, I could make a goodconjecture as to what had occurred. I heard the stories of allconcerned, and realized that you must have dematerialized MissCrawford by mistake, and then, unable to bring her back, had followedher yourself. 

"I put on your insulation outfit, and went to work. I have not lefthere for a moment, but have snatched an hour or two of sleep from timeto time. Detective Phillips has been very good and helpful. 

"Finally, I had everything in shape, but I reversed the apparatus invital spots, and tried each combination until suddenly, a few minutesago, you were re-materialized. It was a desperate chance, but I wasforced to take it in an endeavor to save you. "

Lambert held out his hand to his friend. "I can never thank youenough, " he said gratefully. "You saved us from a horrible fate. Butyou speak as though we had been gone a long while. Was it many hours?"

"Hours?" repeated Morgan, his lips parting under his black beard. "Man, it was eight days! You have been gone since a week ago lastnight!"

Lambert turned to Phillips. "I must ask you not to release this storyto the newspapers, " he begged. 

Phillips smiled and turned up his hands in a gesture of frank wonder. "Professor Lambert, " he said, "I can't believe what I have seenmyself. If I told such a yarn to the reporters, they'd never forgetit. They'd kid me out of the department. "

"Aw, they were hidin' in a closet, " growled Doherty. "Come on, we'vewasted too much time on this job already. Just a couple of nuts, saysI. "

 * * * * *

The sleuths, after Phillips had shaken hands with Lambert, left thelaboratory. Morgan, a large man of middle age, joined them in a mealwhich Felix served to the three on a folding table brought in for thepurpose. Felix was terribly glad to see Madge and Lambert again, andmanifested his joy by many bobs and leaps as he waited upon them. Agrin spread across his face from ear to ear. 

Morgan asked innumerable questions. They described as best they couldwhat they could recall of the strange dominion in which they had been, and the physicist listened intently. 

"It is some Hell's Dimension, as you call it, " he said at last. 

"Where it is, or exactly what, I cannot say, " said Lambert. "I surelyhave no desire to return to that world of hate. "

Madge, happy now, smiled at him and he leaned over and kissed hertenderly. 

"We have come from Hell, together, " said Lambert, "and now we are inHeaven!"

 * * * * *

[Illustration: Advertisement]

The World Behind the Moon

_By Paul Ernst_

[Illustration: _They fell, for hours, into a deep chasm. _]

[Sidenote: Two intrepid Earth-men fight it out with the horrificmonsters of Zeud's frightful jungles. ]

Like pitiless jaws, a distant crater opened for their ship. Helplessly, they hurtled toward it: helplessly, because they werestill in the nothingness of space, with no atmospheric resistance onwhich their rudders, or stern or bow tubes, could get a purchase tosteer them. 

Professor Dorn Wichter waited anxiously for the slight vibration thatshould announce that the projectile-shaped shell had entered the newplanet's atmosphere. 

"Have we struck it yet?" asked Joyce, a tall blond young man with theshoulders of an athlete and the broad brow and square chin of one whocombines dreams with action. He made his way painfully towardWichter. It was the first time he had attempted to move since theshell had passed the neutral point--that belt midway between the moonand the world behind it, where the pull of gravity of each satellitewas neutralized by the other. They, and all the loose objects in theshell, had floated uncomfortably about the middle of the chamber forhalf an hour or so, gradually settling down again; until now it waspossible, with care, to walk. 

"Have we struck it?" he repeated, leaning over the professor'sshoulder and staring at the resistance gauge. 

"No. " Absently Wichter took off his spectacles and polished them. "There's not a trace of resistance yet. "

They gazed out the bow window toward the vast disc, like a serrated, pock-marked plate of blue ice, that was the planet Zeud--discoveredand named by them. The same thought was in the mind of each. Supposethere were no atmosphere surrounding Zeud to cushion their descentinto the hundred-mile crater that yawned to receive them?

"Well, " said Joyce after a time, "we're taking no more of a chancehere than we did when we pointed our nose toward the moon. We werealmost sure that was no atmosphere there--which meant we'd nose diveinto the rocks at five thousand miles an hour. On Zeud there might beanything. " His eyes shone. "How wonderful that there should be such aplanet, unsuspected during all the centuries men have been studyingthe heavens!"

Wichter nodded agreement. It was indeed wonderful. But what was morewonderful was its present discovery: for that would never havetranspired had not he and Joyce succeeded in their attempt to fly tothe moon. From there, after following the sun in its slow journeyaround to the lost side of the lunar globe--that face which the earthhas never yet observed--they had seen shining in the near distancethe great ball which they had christened Zeud. 

 * * * * *

Astronomical calculations had soon described the mysterious hiddensatellite. It was almost a twin to the moon; a very little smaller, and less than eighty thousand miles away. Its rotation was nearlysimilar, which made its days not quite sixteen of our earthly days. Itwas of approximately the weight, per cubic mile, of Earth. And thereit whirled, directly in a line with the earth and the moon, moving asthe moon moved so that it was ever out of sight beyond it, as a dimewould be out of sight if placed in a direct line behind a penny. 

Zeud, the new satellite, the world beyond the moon! In theirexcitement at its discovery, Joyce and Wichter had left themoon--which they had found to be as dead and cold as it had beensurmised to be--and returned summarily to Earth. They had replenishedtheir supplies and their oxygen tanks, and had come back--to circlearound the moon and point the sharp prow of the shell toward Zeud. Thegift of the moon to Earth was a dubious one; but the gift of apossibly living planet-colony to mankind might be the solution of theovercrowded conditions of the terrestial sphere!

"Speed, three thousand miles an hour, " computed Wichter. "Distance toZeud, nine hundred and eighty miles. If we don't strike a few atoms ofhydrogen or something soon we're going to drill this nearest crater alittle deeper!"

Joyce nodded grimly. At two thousand miles from Earth there had stillbeen enough hydrogen traces in the ether to give purchase to theexplosions of their water-motor. At six hundred miles from the moonthey had run into a sparse gaseous belt that had enabled them tochange direction and slow their speed. They had hoped to find hydrogenat a thousand or twelve hundred miles from Zeud. 

"Eight hundred and thirty miles, " commented Wichter, his slender, bent body tensed. "Eight hundred miles--ah!"

A thrumming sound came to their ears as the shell quivered, imperceptibly almost, but unmistakeably, at the touch of some faintresistance outside in space. 

"We've struck it, Joyce. And it's much denser than the moon's, even aswe'd hoped. There'll be life on Zeud, my boy, unless I'm vastlymistaken. You'd better look to the motor now. "

 * * * * *

Joyce went to the water-motor. This was a curious, but extremelysimple affair. There was a glass box, ribbed with polished steel, about the size and shape of a cigar box, which was full of water. Leading away from this, to the bow and stern of the shell, were twosmall pipes. The pipes were greatly thickened for a period of threefeet or so, directly under the little tank, and were braced bybed-plates so heavy as to look all out of proportion. Around thethickened parts of the pipes were coils of heavy, insulated copperwire. There were no valves nor cylinders, no revolving parts: that wasall there was to the "motor. "

Joyce didn't yet understand the device. The water dripped from thetank, drop by drop, to be abruptly disintegrated, made into anexplosive, by being subjected to a powerful magnetic field induced inthe coils by a generator in the bow of the shell. As each drop ofwater passed into the pipes, and was instantaneously broken up, therewas a violent but controlled explosion--and the shell was kickedanother hundred miles ahead on its journey. That was all Joyce knewabout it. 

He threw the bow switch. There was a soft shock as the motor exhaustedthrough the forward tube, slowing their speed. 

"Turn on the outside generator propellers, " ordered Wichter. "I thinkour batteries are getting low. "

Joyce slipped the tiny, slim-bladed propellers into gear. They beganto turn, slowly at first in the almost non-existent atmosphere. 

"Four hundred miles, " announced Wichter. "How's the temperature?"

Joyce stepped to the thermometer that registered the heat of the outerwall. "Nine hundred degrees, " he said. 

"Cut down to a thousand miles an hour, " commanded Wichter. "Fivehundred as soon as the motor will catch that much. I'll keep ourcourse straight toward this crater. It's in wells like that, thatwe'll find livable air--if we're right in believing there is such athing on Zeud. "

 * * * * *

Joyce glanced at the thermometer. It still registered hundreds ofdegrees, though their speed had been materially reduced. 

"I guess there's livable air, all right, " he said. "It's pretty thickoutside already. "

The professor smiled. "Another theory vindicated. I was sure thatZeud, swinging on the outside of the Earth-moon-Zeud chain and hencetraveling at a faster rate, would pick up most of the moon'satmosphere over a period of millions of years. Also it must have beenshielded by the moon, to some extent, against the constant smallatmospheric leakage most celestial globes are subject to. Just thesame, when we land, we'll test conditions with a rat or two. "

At a signal from him, Joyce checked their speed to four hundred milesan hour, then to two hundred, and then, as they descended below thehighest rim of the circular cliffs of the crater, almost to a fullstop. They floated toward the surface of Zeud, watching withbreathless interest the panorama that unfolded beneath them. 

They were nosing toward a spot that was being favored with the Zeudiansunrise. Sharp and clear the light rays slanted down, illuminatingabout half the crater's floor and leaving the cliff protected half indim shadow. 

The illuminated part of the giant pit was as bizarre as the landscapeof a nightmare. There were purplish trees, immense beyond belief. There were broad, smooth pools of inky black fluid that was oily andtroubled in spots as though disturbed by some moving things under thesurface. There were bare, rocky patches where the stones, the longdrippings of ancient lava flow, were spread like bleaching grayskeletons of monsters. And over all, rising from pools and bare groundand jungle alike, was a thin, miasmic mist. 

 * * * * *

Sustained by the slow, steady exhaust of the motor, rising a littlewith each partly muffled explosion and sinking a little further ineach interval, they settled toward a bare, lava strewn spot thatappealed to Wichter as being a good landing place. With a last hiss, and a grinding jar, they grounded. Joyce opened the switch to cut offthe generator. 

"Now let's see what the air's like, " said Wichter, lifting down asmall cage in which was penned an active rat. 

He opened a double panel in the shell's hull, and freed the littleanimal. In an agony of suspense they watched it as it leaped onto thebare lava and halted a moment. .. . 

"Seems to like it, " said Joyce, drawing a great breath. 

The rat, as though intoxicated by its sudden freedom, raced away outof sight, covering eight or ten feet at a bound, its legs scurryingludicrously in empty air during its short flights. 

"That means that we can dispense with oxygen helmets--and that we'dbetter take our guns, " said Wichter, his voice tense, his eyessnapping behind his glasses. 

He stepped to the gun rack. In this were half a dozen air-guns. Longand of very small bore, they discharged a tiny steel shell in whichwas a liquid of his invention that, about a second after the heat ofits forced passage through the rifle barrel, expanded instantly ingaseous form to millions of times its liquid bulk. It was the mostpowerful explosive yet found, but one that was beautifully safe tocarry inasmuch as it could be exploded only by heat. 

"Are we ready?" he said, handing a gun to Joyce. "Then--let's go!"

 * * * * *

But for a breath or two they hesitated before opening the heavy doubledoor in the side of the hull, savoring to the full the immensity ofthe moment. 

The rapture of the explorer who is the first to set foot on a vast newcontinent was theirs, magnified a hundredfold. For they were the firstto set foot on a vast new planet! An entire new world, containingheaven alone knew what forms of life, what monstrous or infinitesimalcreatures, lay before them. Even the profound awe they had experiencedwhen landing on the moon was dwarfed by the solemnity of thisoccasion; just as it is less soul stirring to discover an arcticcontinent which is perpetually cased in barren ice, than to discover acontinent which is warmly fruitful and, probably, teeming with life. 

Still wordless, too stirred to speak, they opened the vault-like doorand stepped out--into a humid heat which was like that of their owntropical regions, but not so unendurable. 

In their short stay on the moon, during which they had taken severalwalks in their insulated suits, they had become somewhat accustomed tothe decreased weight of their bodies due to the lesser gravity, sothat here, where their weight was even less, they did not make anyblunders of stepping twenty feet instead of a yard. 

Walking warily, glancing alertly in all directions to guard againstany strange animals that might rush out to destroy them, they movedtoward the nearest stretch of jungle. 

 * * * * *

The first thing that arrested their attention was the size of thetrees they were approaching. They had got some idea of their hugenessfrom the shell, but viewed from ground level they loomed even larger. Eight hundred, a thousand feet they reared their mighty tops, withtrunks hundreds of feet in circumference; living pyramids whose baseswove together to make an impenetrable ceiling over the jungle floor. The leaves were thick and bloated like cactus growths, and their colorwas a pronounced lavender. 

"We must take back several of those leaves, " said Wichter, hisscientific soul filled with cold excitement. 

"I wish we could take back some of this air, too. " Joyce filled hislungs to capacity. "Isn't it great? Like wine! It almost counteractsthe effects of the heat. "

"There's more oxygen in it than in our own, " surmised Wichter. "MyGod! What's that!"

They halted for an instant. From the depths of the lavender jungle hadcome an ear shattering, screaming hiss, as though some monstrousserpent were in its death agony. 

They waited to hear if the noise would be repeated. It wasn't. Dubiously they started on again. 

"We'd better not go in there too far, " said Joyce. "If we didn't comeout again it would cost Earth a new planet. No one else knows thesecret of your water-motor. "

"Oh, nothing living can stand against these guns of ours, " repliedWichter confidently. "And that noise might not have been caused byanything living. It might have been steam escaping from some volcaniccrevice. "

They started cautiously down a well defined, hard packed trail throughthorny lavender underbrush. As they went, Joyce blazed marks onvarious tree trunks marking the direction back to the shell. The toughfibres exuded a bluish liquid from the cuts that bubbled slowly likeblood. 

 * * * * *

To the right and left of them were cup-shaped bushes that looked liketraps; and that their looks were not deceiving was proved by amuffled, bleating cry that rose from the compressed leaves of one ofthem they passed. Sluggish, blind crawling things like three-footslugs flowed across their path and among the tree trunks, leavingviscous trails of slime behind them. And there were larger things. .. . 

"Careful, " said Wichter suddenly, coming to a halt and peering intothe gloom at their right. 

"What did you see?" whispered Joyce. 

Wichter shook his head. The gigantic, two-legged, purplish figure hehad dimly made out in the steamy dark, had moved away. "I don't know. It looked a little like a giant ape. "

They halted and took stock of their situation, mechanically wipingperspiration from their streaming faces, and pondering as to whetheror not they should turn back. Joyce, who was far from being a coward, thought they should. 

"In this undergrowth, " he pointed out, "we might be rushed before wecould even fire our guns. And we're nearly a mile from the shell. "

But Wichter was like an eager child. 

"We'll press on just a little, " he urged. "To that clear spot in frontof us. " He pointed along the trail to where sunlight was blazing downthrough an opening in the trees. "As soon as we see what's there, we'll go back. "

With a shrug, Joyce followed the eager little man down the weird trailunder the lavender trees. In a few moments they had reached theclearing which was Wichter's goal. They halted on its edge, gazing atit with awe and repulsion. 

 * * * * *

It was a circular quagmire of festering black mud about a hundredyards across. Near at hand they could see the mud heaving, veryslowly, as though abysmal forms of life were tunneling along justunder the surface. They glanced toward the center of the bog, whichwas occupied by one of the smooth black pools, and cried aloud atwhat they saw. 

At the brink of the pool was lying a gigantic creature like a great, thick snake--a snake with a lizard's head, and a series ofmany-jointed, scaled legs running down its powerful length. Its mouthwas gaping open to reveal hundreds of needle-sharp, backward pointingteeth. Its legs and thick, stubbed tail were threshing feebly in themud as though it were in distress; and its eyes, so small as to beinvisible in its repulsive head, were glazed and dull. 

"Was that what we heard back a ways?" wondered Joyce. 

"Probably, " said Wichter. His eyes shone as he gazed at the nightmareshape. Impulsively he took a step toward the stirring mud. 

"Don't be entirely insane, " snapped Joyce, catching his arm. 

"I must see it closer, " said Wichter, tugging to be free. 

"Then we'll climb a tree and look down on it. We'll probably be saferup off the ground anyway. "

 * * * * *

They ascended the nearest jungle giant--whose rubbery bark was soringed and scored as to be as easy to climb as a staircase--to thefirst great bough, about fifty feet from the ground, and edged outtill they hung over the rim of the quagmire. From there, with the aidof their binoculars, they expected to see the dying monster in everydetail. But when they looked toward the pool it was not in sight!

"Were we seeing things?" exclaimed Wichter, rubbing his glasses. "I'dhave sworn it was lying there!"

"It was, " said Joyce grimly. "Look at the pool. That'll tell you whereit went. "

The black, secretive surface was bubbling and waving as though, downin its depths, a terrific fight were taking place. 

"Something came up and dragged our ten-legged lizard down to its den. Then that something's brothers got onto the fact that a feast wasbeing held, and rushed in. That pool would be no place for abefore-breakfast dip!"

 * * * * *

Wichter started to say something in reply, then gazed, hypnotized, atthe opposite wall of the jungle. 

From the dense screen of lavender foliage stretched a glistening, scale-armored neck, as thick as a man's body at its thinnest point, which was just behind a tremendous-jawed crocodilian head. It taperedback for a distance of at least thirty feet, to merge into a body asbig as that of a terrestial whale, that was supported by four squat, ponderous legs. 

Moving with surprising rapidity, the enormous thing slid into the mudand began ploughing a way, belly deep, toward the pool. Shapeless, slow-writhing forms were cast up in its wake, to quiver for a momentin the sunlight and then melt below the mud again. 

One of the bloated, formless mud-crawlers was snapped up in the hugejaws with an abrupt plunge of the long neck, and the monster began tofeed, hog-like, slobbering over the loathsome carcass. 

Wichter shook his head, half in fanatical eagerness, half in despair. "I'd like to stay and see more, " he said with a sigh, "but if that'sthe kind of creatures we're apt to encounter in the Zeudian jungle, we'd better be going at once--"

"Sh-h!" snapped Joyce. Then, in a barely audible whisper: "I think thething heard your voice!"

The monster had abruptly ceased its feeding. Its head, thrust high inthe air, was waving inquisitively from side to side. Suddenly itexpelled the air from its vast lungs in a roaring cough--and starteddirectly for their tree. 

"Shoot!" cried Wichter, raising his gun. 

 * * * * *

Moving with the speed of an express train, the monster had almost gotto their overhanging branch before they could pull the triggers. Bothshells imbedded themselves in the enormous chest, just as the longneck reached up for them. And at once things began to happen withcataclysmic rapidity. 

Almost with their impact the shells exploded. The monster stopped, with a great hole torn in its body. Then, dying on its feet, it thrustits great head up and its huge jaws crunched over the branch to whichits two puny destroyers were clinging. 

With all its dozens of tons of weight, it jerked in a gargantuan deathagony. The tree, enormous as it was, shook with it, and the branchitself was tossed as though in a hurricane. 

There was a splintering sound. Wichter and Joyce dropped their guns tocling more tightly to the bole of the drooping branch that was theironly security. The guns glanced off the mountainous body--and, with alast convulsion of the mighty legs, were swept underneath!

The monster was still at last, its insensate jaws yet gripping thebough. The two men looked at each other in speechless consternation. The shell a mile off through the dreadful jungle. .. . Themselves, helpless without their guns. .. . 

"Well, " said Joyce at last. "I guess we'd better be on our way. Waiting here, thinking it over, won't help any. Lucky there's nonight, for a couple of weeks at least, to come stealing down on us. "

 * * * * *

He started down the great trunk, with Wichter following close behind. Walking as rapidly as they could, they hurried back along the tunneledtrail toward their shell. 

They hadn't covered a hundred yards when they heard a mighty crashingof underbrush behind them. Glancing back, they saw tooth-studded jawsgaping cavernously at the end of a thirty-foot neck--little, dead-looking eyes glaring at them--a hundred-foot body smashing itsway over the trap-bushes and through tangles of vines anddown-drooping branches. 

"The mate to the thing we killed back there!" Joyce panted. "Run, forGod's sake!"

Wichter needed no urging. He hadn't an ounce of fear in his spare, small body. But he had an overwhelming desire to get back to Earth anddeliver his message. He was trembling as he raced after Joyce, thirtyfeet to a bound, ducking his head to avoid hitting the thick lavenderfoliage that roofed the trail. 

"One of us must get through!" he panted over and over. "One of us mustmake it!"

It was speedily apparent that they could never outrun their pursuer. The reaching jaws were only a few yards behind them now. 

"You go, " called Joyce, sobbing for breath. He slowed his pacedeliberately. 

"No--you--" Wichter slowed too. In a frenzy, Joyce shoved him alongthe trail. 

"I tell you--"

He got no further. In front of them, where there had appeared to besolid ground, they suddenly saw a yawning pit. Desperately, they triedto veer aside, but they were too close. Their last long birdlike leapcarried them over the edge. They fell, far down, into a deep chasm, splashing into a shallow pool of water. 

A few clods of earth cascaded after them as the monster above dug itsgreat splay feet into the ground and checked its rush in time to keepfrom falling after them. Then the top of the pit slowly darkened as acovering of some sort slid across it. They were in a prison asprofoundly quiet and utterly black as a tomb. 

 * * * * *

"Dorn, " shouted Joyce. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, " came a voice in the near darkness. "And you?"

"I'm still in one piece as far as I can feel. " There was a splashingnoise. He waded toward it and in a moment his outstretched handtouched the professor's shoulder. 

"This is a fine mess, " he observed shakily. "We got away from thosetooth-lined jaws, all right, but I'm wondering if we're much betteroff than we would have been if we hadn't escaped. "

"I'm wondering the same thing. " Wichter's voice was strained. "Did yousee the way the top of the pit closed above us? That means we're in atrap. And a most ingenious trap it is, too! The roof of it iscamouflaged until it looks exactly like the rest of the trail floor. The water in here is just shallow enough to let large animals breaktheir necks when they fall in and just deep enough to preserve smallanimals--like ourselves--alive. We're in the hands of some sort ofreasoning, intelligent beings, Joyce!"

"In that case, " said Joyce with a shudder, "we'd better do our best toget out of here!"

But this was found to be impossible. They couldn't climb up out of thepit, and nowhere could they feel any openings in the walls. Onlysmooth, impenetrable stone met their questing fingers. 

"It looks as though we're in to stay, " said Joyce finally. "At leastuntil our Zeudian hosts, whatever kind of creatures they may be, comeand take us out. What'll we do then? Sail in and die fighting? Or gopeaceably along with them--assuming we aren't killed at once--on thechance that we can make a break later?"

"I'd advise the latter, " answered Wichter. "There is a small animal onour own planet whose example might be a good one for us to follow. That's the 'possum. " He stopped abruptly, and gripped Joyce's arm. 

From the opposite side of the pit came a grating sound. A crack ofgreenish light appeared, low down near the water. This widened jerkilyas though a door were being hoisted by some sort of pulleyarrangement. The walls of the pit began to glow faintly withreflected light. 

"Down, " breathed Wichter. 

 * * * * *

Noiselessly they let themselves sink into the water until they werefloating, eyes closed and motionless, on the surface. Playing dead tothe best of their ability, they waited for what might happen next. 

They heard a splashing near the open rock door. The splashing neared them, and high-pitched hissing syllables came to their ears--variegated soundsthat resembled excited conversation in some unknown language. 

Joyce felt himself touched by something, and it was all he could do tokeep from shouting aloud and springing to his feet at the contact. 

He'd had no idea, of course, what might be the nature of theircaptors, but he had imagined them as man-like, to some extent atleast. And the touch of his hand, or flipper, or whatever it was, indicated that they were not!

They were cold-blooded, reptilian things, for the flesh that hadtouched him was cold; as clammy and repulsive as the belly of a deadfish. So repulsive was that flesh that, when he presently felt himselflifted high up and roughly carried, he shuddered in spite of himselfat the contact. 

Instantly the thing that bore him stopped. Joyce held his breath. Hefelt an excruciating, stabbing pain in his arm, after which thejourney through the water was resumed. Stubbornly he kept up hispretence of lifelessness. 

The splashing ceased, and he heard flat wet feet slapping along on dryrock, indicating that they had emerged from the pit. Then he sank intoreal unconsciousness. 

The next thing he knew was that he was lying on smooth, bare rock in aperfect bedlam of noises. Howls and grunts, snuffling coughs andsnarls beat at his ear-drums. It was as though he had fallen into avast cage in which were hundreds of savage, excited animals--animals, however, that in spite of their excitement and ferocity weresurprisingly motionless, for he heard no scraping of claws, or paddingof feet. 

Cautiously he opened his eyes. .. . 

 * * * * *

He was in a large cave, the walls of which were glowing with greenish, phosphorescent light. Strewn about the floor were seemingly deadcarcasses of animals. And what carcasses there were! Blubber-coatedthings that looked like giant tadpoles, gazelle-like creatures with asingle, long slim horn growing from delicate small skulls, four-leggedbeasts and six-legged ones, animals with furry hides and crawlers withscaled coverings--several hundred assorted specimens of the smallerlife of Zeud lay stretched out in seeming lifelessness. 

But they were not dead, these bizarre beasts of another world. Theylived, and were animated with the frenzied fear of trapped things. Joyce could see the tortured heaving of their furred and scaled sidesas they panted with terror. And from their throats issued theoutlandish noises he had heard. They were alive enough--only theyseemed unable to move!

There was nothing in his range of vision that might conceivably be thebeings that had captured them, so Joyce started to lift his head andlook around at the rest of the cavern. He found that he could notmove. He tried again, and his body was as unresponsive as a log. Infact, he couldn't feel his body at all! In growing terror, heconcentrated all his will on moving his arm. It was as limp as a rag. 

He relaxed, momentarily in the grip of stark, blind panic. He was ashelpless as the howling things around him! He was numbed, completelyparalyzed into immobility!

The professor's voice--a weak, uncertain voice--sounded from behindhim. "Joyce! Joyce!"

He found that he could talk, that the paralysis that gripped the restof his muscles had not extended to the vocal cords. "Dorn! Thank Godyou're alive! I couldn't see you, and I thought--"

"I'm alive, but that's about all, " said Wichter. "I--I can't move. "

"Neither can I. We've been drugged in some manner--just as all theother animals in here have been drugged. I must have got my dose inthe pit. I was cut, or stabbed, in the arm. "

 * * * * *

Joyce stopped talking as he suddenly heard steps, like human footstepsyet weirdly different--flap-flapping sounds as though awkward flipperswere slapping along the rock floor toward them. The steps stoppedwithin a few feet of them; then, after what seemed hours, they soundedagain, this time in front of him. 

He opened his eyes, cautiously, barely moving his eyelids, and saw atlast, in every hideous detail, one of the super-beasts that hadcaptured Wichter and himself. 

It was a horrible cartoon of a man, the thing that stood there in thegreenish glow of the cave. Nine or ten feet high, it loomed; hairless, with a faintly iridescent, purplish hide. A thick, cylindrical trunksloped into a neck only a little smaller than the body itself. Set onthis was a bony, ugly head that was split clear across by liplessjaws. There was no nose, only slanted holes like the nostrils of ananimal; and over these were set pale, expressionless, pupil-less eyes. The arms were short and thick and ended in bifurcated lumps of fleshlike swollen hands encased in old-fashioned mittens. The legs werealso grotesquely short, and the feet mere shapeless flaps. 

It was standing near one of the smaller animals, apparently regardingit closely. Observing it himself, Joyce saw that it was moving alittle. As though coming out of a coma, it was raising its bizarrehead and trying to get on its feet. 

Leisurely the two-legged monster bent over it. Two long fangs gleamedin the lipless mouth. These were buried in the neck of the revivingbeast--and instantly it sank back into immobility. 

Having reduced it to helplessness--the monster ate it! The liplessjaws gaped widely. The shapeless hands forced in the head of theanimal. The throat muscles expanded hugely: and in less than a minuteit had swallowed its living prey as a boa-constrictor swallows amonkey. 

 * * * * *

Joyce closed his eyes, feeling weak and nauseated. He didn't open themagain till long after he had heard the last of the awkward, flappingfootsteps. 

"Could you see it?" asked Wichter, who was lying so closely behind himthat he couldn't observe the monstrous Zeudian. "What did it do? Whatwas it like?"

Joyce told him of the way the creature had fed. "We are evidently intheir provision room, " he concluded. "They keep some of their foodalive, it seems. .. . Well, it's a quick death. "

"Tell me more about the way the other animal moved, just before it waseaten. "

"There isn't much to tell, " said Joyce wearily. "It didn't move longafter those fangs were sunk into it. "

"But don't you see!" There was sudden hope in Wichter's voice. "Thatmeans that the effect of the poison, which is apparently injected bythose fangs, wears off after a time. And in that case--"

"In that case, " Joyce interjected, "we'd have only an unknown army often-foot Zeudians, the problem of finding a way to the surface of theground again, and the lack of any kind of weapons, to keep us fromescaping!"

"We're not quite weaponless, though, " the professor whispered back. "Over in a corner there's a pile of the long, slender horns thatsprout from the heads of some of these creatures. Evidently theZeudians cut them out, or break them off before eating thatparticular type of animal. They'd be as good as lances, if we couldget hold of them. "

 * * * * *

Joyce said nothing, but hope began to beat in his own breast. He hadnoticed a significant happening during the age-long hours in thecommissary cave. Most of the Zeudians had entered from the directionof the pit. But one had come in through an opening in the oppositeside. And this one had blinked pale eyes as though dazzled from brightsunlight--and was bearing some large, woody looking tubers that seemedto have been freshly uprooted! There was a good chance, thought Joyce, that that opening led to a tunnel up to the world above!

He drew a deep breath--and felt a dim pain in his back, caused by thecramping position in which he had lain for so long. 

He could have shouted aloud with the thrill of that discovery. Thiswas the first time he had felt his body at all! Did it mean that theeffect of the poison was wearing off--that it wasn't as lastinglyparalyzing to his earthly nerve centers as to those of Zeudiancreatures around them? He flexed the muscles of his leg. The leg moveda fraction of an inch. 

"Dorn!" he called softly, "I can move a little! Can you?"

"Yes, " Wichter answered, "I've been able to wriggle my fingers forseveral minutes. I think I could walk in an hour or two. "

"Then pray for that hour or two. It might mean our escape!" Joyce toldhim of the seldom used entrance that he thought led to the open air. "I'm sure it goes to the surface, Dorn. Those woody looking tubers hadbeen freshly picked. "

 * * * * *

Three of the two-legged monsters came in just then. They relapsed intolifeless silence. There was a horrible moment as the three paused overthem longer than any of the others had. Was it obvious that theeffects of the numbing poison was wearing off? Would they be bittenagain--or eaten?

The Zeudians finally moved on, hissing and clicking to each other. Eventually the cold-blooded things fed, and dragged lethargically outof the cave in the direction of the pit. 

With every passing minute Joyce could feel life pouring back into hisnumbed body. His cramped muscles were in agony now--a pain that gavehim fierce pleasure. At last, risking observation, he lifted his headand then struggled to a sitting position and looked around. 

No Zeudian was in sight. Evidently they were too sure of their poisonglands to post a guard over them. He listened intently, and could hearno dragging footsteps. He turned to Wichter, who had followed hisexample and was sitting up, feebly rubbing his body to restorecirculation. 

"Now's our chance, " he whispered. "Stand up and walk a little tosteady your legs, while I go over and get us a couple of those sharphorns. Then we'll see where that entrance of mine goes!"

He walked to the pile of bones and horns in the corner and selectedtwo of the longest and slimmest of the ivory-like things. Just as hehad rejoined Wichter he heard the sound with which he was now sogrimly familiar--flapping, awkward footsteps. Wildly he signaled theprofessor. They dropped in their tracks, just as the approachingmonster stumped into the cave. 

 * * * * *

For an instant he dared hope that their movement had gone unobserved, but his hope was rudely shattered. He heard a sharp hiss: heard theZeudian flap toward them at double-quick time. Abandoning allpretense, he sprang to his feet just as the thing reached him, itsfangs gleaming wickedly in the greenish light. 

He leaped to the side, going twenty feet or more with the press of hisEarth muscles against the reduced gravity. The creature rushed ontoward the professor. That game little man crouched and awaited itsonslaught. But Joyce had sprung back again before the two could clash. 

He raised the long horn and plunged it into the smooth, purplish back. Again and again he drove it home, as the monster writhed under him. Ithad enormous vitality. Gashed and dripping, it yet struggled on, attempting to encircle Joyce with its stubby arms. Once it succeeded, and he felt his ribs crack as it contracted its powerful body. But afinal stroke finished the savage fight. He got up and, with anincoherent cry to Wichter, raced toward the opening on which theypinned their hopes of reaching the upper air. 

Hissing cries and the thudding of many feet came to them just as theyreached the arched mouth of the passage. But the cries, and theconstant pandemonium of the paralysed animals died behind them as theybounded along the tunnel. 

 * * * * *

They emerged at last into the sunlight they had never expected to seeagain, beside one of the great lavender trees. They paused an instantto try to get their bearings. 

"This way, " panted Joyce as he saw, on a hard-packed path ahead ofthem, one of the trail-marks he had blazed. 

Down the trail they raced, toward their space shell. Fortunately theymet none of the tremendous animals that infested the jungles; andtheir journey to the clearing in which the shell was lying wasaccomplished without accident. 

"We're safe now, " gasped Wichter, as they came in sight of the barelava patch. "We can outrun them five feet to their one!"

They burst into the clearing--and halted abruptly. Surrounding theshell, stumping curiously about it and touching it with theirshapeless hands, were dozens of the Zeudians. 

"My God!" groaned Joyce. "There must be at least a hundred of them!We're lost for certain now!"

They stared with hopeless longing at the vehicle that, if only theycould reach it, could carry them back to Earth. Then they turned toeach other and clasped hands, without a word. The same thought was inthe mind of each--to rush at the swarming monsters and fight till theywere killed. There was absolutely no chance of winning through to theshell, but it was infinitely better to die fighting than be swallowedalive. 

 * * * * *

So engrossed were the Zeudians by the strange thing that had falleninto their province, that Joyce and Wichter got within a hundred feetof them before they turned their pale eyes in their direction. Then, baring their fangs, they streamed toward the Earth men, just as thepursuing Zeudians entered the clearing from the jungle trail. 

The two prepared to die as effectively as possible. Each grasped hislace-like horn tightly. The professor mechanically adjusted hisglasses more firmly on his nose. .. . 

With his move, the narrowing circle of Zeudians halted. A violentclamor broke out among them. They glared at the two, but made nofurther step toward them. 

"What in the world--" began Wichter bewilderedly. 

"Your glasses!" Joyce shouted, gripping his shoulder. "When you movedthem, they all stopped! They must be afraid of them, somehow. Takethem clear off and see what happens. "

Wichter removed his spectacles, and swung them in his hand, peeringnear-sightedly at the crowding Zeudians. 

Their reaction to his simple move was remarkable! Hisses ofconsternation came from their lipless mouths. They faced each otheruneasily, waving their stubby arms and covering their own eyes asthough suddenly afraid they would lose them. 

Taking advantage of their indecision, Joyce and Wichter walked boldlytoward them. They moved aside, forming a reluctant lane. Some of theZeudians in the rear shoved to close in on them, but the ones in frontheld them back. It wasn't until the two were nearly through that thelane began to straggle into a threatening circle around them again. The Zeudians were evidently becoming reassured by the fact thatWichter continued to see all right in spite of the little strangecreature's alarming act of removing his eyes. 

"Do it again, " breathed Joyce, perspiration beading his forehead asthe giants moved closed, their fangs tentatively bared for the numbingpoison stroke. 

 * * * * *

Wichter popped his glasses on, then jerked them off with a cry, asthough he were suffering intensely. Once more the Zeudians falteredand drew back, feeling at their own eyes. 

"Run!" cried Joyce. And they raced for the haven of the shell. 

The Zeudians swarmed after them, snarling and hissing. Barely ahead ofthe nearest, Joyce and Wichter dove into the open panel. They slammedit closed just as a powerful, stubby arm reached after them. There wasa screaming hiss, and a cold, cartilagenous lump of flesh dropped tothe floor of the shell--half the monster's hand, sheared off betweenthe sharp edge of the door and the metal hull. 

Joyce threw in the generator switch. With a soft roar the water-motorexploded into action, sending the shell far into the sky. 

"When we return, " said Joyce, adding a final thousand miles an hour totheir speed before they should fly free of the atmosphere of Zeud, "Ithink we'd better come at the head of an army, equipped with air-gunsand explosive bombs. "

"And with glasses, " added the professor, taking off his spectacles andgazing at them as though seeing them for the first time. 

Four Miles Within

A COMPLETE NOVELETTE

_By Anthony Gilmore_

CHAPTER I

_The Monster of Metal_

[Illustration: The man hurled the empty gun at the monster. ]

[Sidenote: Far down into the earth goes a gleaming metal sphere whosepassengers are deadly enemies. ]

A strange spherical monster stood in the moonlight on the silentMojave Desert. In the ghostly gray of the sand and sage and joshuatrees its metal hide glimmered dully--an amazing object to be found onthat lonely spot. But there was only pride and anticipation in theeyes of the three people who stood a little way off, looking at it. For they had constructed the strange sphere, and were soon going toentrust their lives to it. 

"Professor, " said one of them, a young man with a cheerful face and alikable grin, "let's go down now! There's no use waiting tillto-morrow. It's always dark down there, whether it's day or night uphere. Everything is ready. "

The white-haired Professor David Guinness smiled tolerantly at thespeaker, his partner, Phil Holmes. "I'm kind of eager to be off, myself, " he admitted. He turned to the third person in the littlegroup, a dark-haired girl. "What do you say, Sue?"

"Oh, let's, Father!" came the quick reply. "We'd never be able tosleep to-night, anyway. As Phil says, everything is ready. "

"Well, I guess that settles it, " Professor Guinness said to the eageryoung man. 

Phil Holmes' face went aglow with anticipation. "Good!" he cried. "Good! I'll skip over and get some water. It's barely possible thatit'll be hot down there, in spite of your eloquent logic to thecontrary!" And with the words he caught up a large jug standingnearby, waved his hand, said: "I'll be right back!" and set out forthe water-hole, situated nearly a mile away from their little camp. The heavy hush of the desert night settled down once more after heleft. 

 * * * * *

As his figure merged with the shadows in the distance, the elderlyscientist murmured aloud to his daughter:

"You know, it's good to realize that my dream is about to become areality. If it hadn't been for Phil. .. . Or no--I really ought to thankyou, Sue. You're the one responsible for his participation!" And hesmiled fondly at the slender girl by his side. 

"Phil joined us just for the scientific interest, and for the thrillof going four miles down into the earth, " she retorted at once, inspite of the blush her father saw on her face. But he did not insist. Once more he turned, as to a magnet, to the machine that was hishandiwork. 

The fifteen-foot sphere was an earth-borer--Guinness's own invention. In it he had utilized for the first time for boring purposes the newlydeveloped atomic disintegrators. Many holes equally spaced over thesphere were the outlets for the dissolving ray--most of them on thebottom and alternating with them on the bottom and sides were theoutlets of powerful rocket propulsion tubes, which would enable it torise easily from the hole it would presently blast into the earth. Asmall, tight-fitting door gave entrance to the double-walled interior, where, in spite of the space taken up by batteries and mechanisms andan enclosed gyroscope for keeping the borer on an even keel, there wasroom for several people. 

The earth-borer had been designed not so much for scientificinvestigation as the specific purpose of reaching a rich store ofradium ore buried four miles below the Guinness desert camp. Manygeologists and mining engineers knew that the radium was there, fortheir instruments had proven it often; but no one up to then knew howto get to it. David Guinness did--first. The borer had beenconstructed in his laboratory in San Francisco, then dismantled andfreighted to the little desert town of Palmdale, from whence Holmeshad brought the parts to their isolated camp by truck. Strict secrecyhad been kept. Rather than risk assistants they had done all the workthemselves. 

 * * * * *

Fifteen minutes passed by, while the slight figure of the inventorputtered about the interior of the sphere, brightly lit by adetachable searchlight, inspecting all mechanisms in preparation fortheir descent. Sue stood by the door watching him, now and thenturning to scan the desert for the returning Phil. 

It was then, startlingly sudden, that there cracked through the velvetnight the faint, distant sound of a gun. And it came from thedirection of the water-hole. 

Sue's face went white, and she trembled. Without a word her fatherstepped out of the borer and looked at her. 

"That was a gun!" he said. "Phil didn't have one with him, did he?"

"No, " Sue whispered. "And--why, there's nobody within miles of here!"

The two looked at each other with alarm and wonder. Then, from one ofthe broken patches of scrub that ringed the space in which the borerstood, came a mocking voice. 

"Ah, you're mistaken, Sue, " it affirmed. "But that was a gun. "

David Guinness jerked around, as did his daughter. The man who hadspoken stood only ten yards away, clearly outlined in the brightmoonlight--a tall, well-built man, standing quite at ease, surveyingthem pleasantly. His smile did not change when old Guinness cried:

"Quade! James Quade!"

The man nodded and came slowly forward. He might have been consideredhandsome, had it not been for his thin, mocking lips and a swarthycomplexion. 

"What are you doing here?" demanded Guinness angrily. "And what do youmean--'it was a gun?' Have you--"

"Easy, easy--one thing at a time, " said Quade, still smiling. "Aboutthe gun--well, your young friend Holmes said, he'd be right back, butI--I'm afraid he won't be. "

 * * * * *

Sue Guinness's lips formed a frightened word:

"Why?"

Quade made a short movement with his left hand, as is brushing thequery aside. "Let's talk about something more pleasant, " he said, andlooked back at the professor. "The radium, and your borer, forinstance. I hear you're all ready to go down. "

David Guinness gasped. "How did you know--?" he began, but a surge ofanger choked him, and his fists clenched. He stepped forward. Butsomething came to life in James Quade's right hand and pointedmenacingly at him. It was the stubby black shape of an automatic. 

"Keep back, you old fool!" Quade said harshly. "I don't want to haveto shoot you!"

Unwillingly, Guinness came to a stop. "What have you done with youngHolmes?" he demanded. 

"Never mind about him now, " said Quade, smiling again. "Perhaps I'llexplain later. At the moment there's something much more interestingto do. Possibly you'll be surprised to hear it, but we're all going totake a little ride in this machine of yours, Professor. Down. Aboutfour miles. I'll have to ask you to do the driving. You will, won'tyou--without making a fuss?"

Guinness's face worked furiously. "Why, you're crazy, Quade!" hesputtered. "I certainly won't!"

"No?" asked Quade softly. The automatic he held veered around, till itwas pointing directly at the girl. "I wouldn't want to have to shootSue--say--through the hand. .. . " His finger tightened perceptibly onthe trigger. 

"You're mad, man!" Guinness burst out. "You're crazy! What's theidea--"

"In due time I'll tell you. But now I'll ask you just once more, "Quade persisted. "Will you enter that borer, or must I--" He broke offwith an expressive shrug. 

David Guinness was powerless. He had not the slightest idea what Quademight be about; the one thought that broke through his fear and angerwas that the man was mad, and had better be humored. He trembled, anda tight sensation came to his throat at sight of the steady guntrained on his daughter. He dared not trifle. 

"I'll do it, " he said. 

 * * * * *

James Quade laughed. "That's better. You always were essentiallyreasonable, though somewhat impulsive for a man of your age. The rashway you severed our partnership, for instance. .. . But enough of that. I think we'd better leave immediately. Into the sphere, please. Youfirst, Miss Guinness. "

"Must she come?"

"I'm afraid so. I can't very well leave her here all unprotected, canI?"

Quade's voice was soft and suave, but an undercurrent of sarcasm ranthrough it. Guinness winced under it; his whole body was tremblingwith suppressed rage and indignation. As he stepped to the door of theearth-borer he turned and asked:

"How did you know our plans? About the radium?--the borer?"

Quade told him. "Have you forgotten, " he said, "that you talked thematter over with me before we split last year? I simply had thelaboratory watched, and when you got new financial backing from youngHolmes, and came here. I followed you. Simple, eh?. .. Well, enough ofthis. Get inside. You first, Sue. "

Trembling, the girl obeyed, and when her father hesitated Quade jammedhis gun viciously into his ribs and pushed him to the door. "Inside!"he hissed, and reluctantly, hatred in his eyes, the professor steppedinto the control compartment after Sue. Quade gave a last quick glancearound and, with gun ever wary, passed inside. The door slammed shut:there was a click as its lock shot over. The sphere was a sealed ballof metal. 

Inside, David Guinness obeyed the automatic's imperious gesture andpulled a shiny-handled lever slowly back, and the hush that restedover the Mojave was shattered by a tremendous bellow, a roar thatshook the very earth. It was the disintegrating blast, hurled out ofthe bottom in many fan-shaped rays. The coarse gray sand beneath themachine stirred and flew wildly; the sphere vibrated madly; and thenthe thunder lowered in tone to a mighty humming and the earth-borerbegan to drop. Slowly it fell, at first, then more rapidly. The shinytop came level with the ground: disappeared; and in a moment there wasnothing left but a gaping hole where a short while before a roundmonster of metal had stood. The hole was hot and dark, and from itcame a steadily diminishing thunder. .. . 

 * * * * *

For a long time no one in the earth-borer spoke--didn't even tryto--for though the thunder of the disintegrators was muted, inside, toa steady drone, conversation was almost impossible. The three werecrowded quite close in the spherical inner control compartment. Suesat on a little collapsible stool by the bowed, but by no meanssubdued, figure of Professor David Guinness, while Quade sat on thewire guard of the gyroscope, which was in the exact center of thefloor. 

The depth gauge showed two hundred feet. Already the three people werenumb from the vibration; they hardly felt any sensation at all, saveone of great weight pressing inwards. The compartment was fairly cooland the air good--kept so by the automatic air rectifiers and theinsulation, which shut out the heat born of their passage. 

Quade had been carefully watching Guinness's manipulation of thecontrols, when he was struck by a thought. At once he stood up, andshouted in the elderly inventor's ear: "Try the rockets! I want to besure this thing will go back up!"

Without a word Guinness shoved back the lever controlling thedisintegrators, at the same time whirling a small wheel full over. Thethudding drone died away to a whisper, and was replaced by sharperthundering, as the stream of the propulsion rockets beneath the spherewas released. A delicate needle trembled on a gauge, danced at thefigure two hundred, then crept back to one-ninety . .. One-sixty . .. One-forty. .. . Quade's eyes took in everything. 

"Excellent, Guinness!" he yelled. "Now--down once more!"

The rockets were slowly cut; the borer jarred at the bottom of itshole; again the disintegrators droned out. The sphere dug rapidly intothe warm ground, biting lower and lower. At ten miles an hour itblasted a path to depths hitherto unattainable to man, sweeping awayrock and gravel and sand--everything that stood in its way. The depthgauge rose to two thousand, then steadily to three and four. So itwent on for nearly half an hour. 

At the end of that time, at a depth of nearly four miles, Quade gotstiffly to his feet and once more shouted into the professor's ear. 

"We ought to be close to that radium, now, " he said. "I think--"

But his words stopped short. The floor of the sphere suddenly fellaway from their feet, and they felt themselves tumbled into a wildplunge. The drone of the disintegrators, hitherto muffled by the earththey bit into, rose to a hollow scream. Before the professor quiteknew what was happening, there was a stunning crash, a shriek oftortured metal--and the earth-borer rocked and lay still. .. . 

 * * * * *

The whole world seemed to be filled with thunder when David Guinnesscame back to consciousness. He opened his eyes and stared up into adarkness to which it took him some time to accustom himself. When hedid, he made out hazily that he was lying on the floor of a vast darkcavern. He could dimly see its jagged roof, perhaps fifty feet above. There was the strong smell of damp earth in his nostrils; his head wassplitting from the steady drone in his ear-drums. Suddenly heremembered what had happened. He groaned slightly and tried to sit up. 

But he could not. His arms and legs were tied. Someone had removed himfrom the earth-borer and bound him on the floor of the cavern they hadplunged into. 

David Guinness strained at the rope. It was futile, but in doing so hetwisted his head around and saw another form, similarly tied, lyingclose to him. He gave a little cry of relief. It was Sue. And she wasconscious, her eyes on his face. 

She spoke to him, but he could not understand her for the drone in hisears, and when he spoke to her it was the same. But the professor didnot just then continue his effort to converse with her. His attentionwas drawn to the borer, now dimly illuminated by its portable light, which had been secured to the door. It was right side up, and appearedto be undamaged. The broad ray of the searchlight fell far away on oneof the cavern's rough walls. He could just make out James Quadestanding there, his back towards them. 

He was hacking at the wall with a pick. Presently he dropped the tooland wrenched at the rock with bare hands. A large chunk came loose. Hehugged it to him and turned and strode back towards the two on thefloor, and as he drew near they could plainly see a gleam of triumphin his eyes. 

"You know what this is?" he shouted. Guinness could only faintly hearhim. "Wealth! Millions! Of course we always knew the radium was here, but this is the proof. And now we've a way of getting it out--thanksto your borer! All the credit is yours, Professor Guinness! You shallhave the credit, and I'll have the money. "

Guinness tugged furiously at his bonds again. "You--you--" he gasped. "How dare you tie us this way! Release us at once! What do you mean byit?"

 * * * * *

Quade smiled unpleasantly. "You're very stupid, Guinness. Haven't youguessed by now what I'm going to do?" He paused, as if waiting for ananswer, and the smile on his face gave way to a look of savage menace. For the first time his bitter feelings came to the surface. 

"Have you forgotten how close I came to going to jail over thosecharges of yours a year ago?" he said. "Have you forgotten thedisgrace to me that followed?--the stigma that forced me to disappearfor months? You fool, do you think I've forgotten?--or that I'd letyou--"

"Quade, " interrupted the older man, "you know very well you wereguilty. I caught you red-handed. You didn't fool anyone--except thejury that let you go. So save your breath, and, if you've the senseyou were born with, release my daughter and me. Why, you're crazy!" hecried with mounting anger. "You can't get away with this! I'll haveyou in jail within forty-eight hours, once I get back to the surface!"

With an effort Quade controlled his feelings and assumed his oily, sarcastic manner. "That's just it, " he said: "'once you get back!' Howstupid you are! You don't seem to realize that you're not going backto the surface. You and your daughter. "

Sue gasped, and her father's eyes went wide. There was a tensesilence. 

"You wouldn't dare!" the inventor cried finally. "You wouldn't dare!"

"It's rather large, this cavern, " Quade went on. "You'll have plentyof room. Perhaps I'll untie you before I go back up, so--"

"You can't get away with it!" shouted the old man, tremendouslyexcited. "Why, you can't, possibly! Philip Holmes'll track youdown--he'll tell the police--he'll rescue us! And then--"

Quade smiled suavely. "Oh, no, he won't. Perhaps you remember the shotthat sounded from the water-hole? Well, when I and my assistant, Juan, heard Holmes say he was going for water, I told Juan to follow him tothe water-hole and bind him, to keep him from interfering till I gotback up. But Mr. Holmes is evidently of an impulsive disposition, andmust have caused trouble. Juan, too, is impulsive; he is a Mexican. And he had a gun. I'm afraid he was forced to use it. .. . I am quitesure Philip Holmes will not, as you say, track me down. "

David Guinness looked at his daughter's white face and horror-filledeyes and suddenly crumpled. Humbly, passionately, he begged Quade totake her back up. "Why, she's never done anything to you, Quade!" hepleaded. "You can't take her life like that! Please! Leave me, if youmust, but not her! You can't--"

 * * * * *

But suddenly the old man noticed that Quade was not listening. Hishead was tilted to one side as if he was straining to hear somethingelse. Guinness was held silent for a moment by the puzzled look on theother's face and the strange way he was acting. 

"Do you hear it?" Quade asked at last; and without waiting for ananswer, he knelt down and put his ear to the ground. When he rose hisface was savage, and he cursed under his breath. 

"Why, it's a humming!" muttered Professor Guinness. "And it's gettinglouder!"

"It sounds like another borer!" ventured Sue. 

The humming grew in volume. Then, from the ceiling, a rock dropped. They were looking at the cavern roof and saw it start, but they didnot hear it strike, for the ever-growing humming echoed loudly throughthe cavern. They saw another rock fall; and another. 

"For God's sake, what is it?" cried Guinness. 

Quade looked at him and slowly drew out his automatic. 

"Another earth-borer, I think, " he answered. "And I rather expect itcontains your young friend Mr. Holmes. Yes--coming to rescue you. "

For a moment Guinness and his daughter were too astounded to doanything but gape. She finally exclaimed:

"But--but then Phil's alive?"

James Quade smiled. "Probably--for the moment. But don't let yourhopes rise too high. The borer he's in isn't strong enough to survivea fifty-foot plunge. " He was shouting now, so loud was the thunderfrom above. "And, " he added, "I'm afraid he's not strong enough tosurvive it, either!"

CHAPTER II

_The Man-Hunt_

When Phil Holmes started off to the water-hole, his head was full ofthe earth-borer and the imminent descent. Now that the long-awaitedtime had come, he was at fever-pitch to be off, and it did not takehim long to cover the mile of sandy waste. His thoughts were farinside the earth as he dipped the jug into the clear cool water andsloshed it full. 

So the rope that snaked softly through the air and dropped in a loopover his shoulders came as a stark surprise. Before he knew what washappening it had slithered down over his arms and drawn taut justabove the elbows, and he was yanked powerfully backwards and almostfell. 

But he managed to keep his feet as he staggered backward, and turninghis head he saw the small dark figure of his aggressor some fifteenfeet away, keeping tight the slack. 

Phil's surprise turned to sudden fury and he completely lost his head. What he did was rash; mad; and yet, as it turned out, it was the onlything that could have saved him. Instinctively, without hesitatingone second, and absolutely ignoring an excited command to stand still, he squirmed face-on to his aggressor, lowered his head and charged. 

The distance was short. Halfway across it, a gun barked, and he heardthe bullet crack into the water jug, which he was still holding infront of himself. And even before the splintered fragments reached theground he had crashed into the firer. 

He hit him with all the force of a tackling lineman, and they bothwent down. The man grunted as the wind was jarred out of him, but hewriggled like an eel and managed to worm aside and bring up his gun. 

Then there was a desperate flurry of bodies in the coarse sand. Holmesdived frantically for the gun hand and caught it; but, handicapped ashe was by the rope, he could not hold it. Slowly its muzzle bentupward to firing position. 

Desperately, he wrenched the arm upwards, in the direction it had beenstraining to go, and the sudden unexpected jerk doubled the man's armand brought the weapon across his chest. For a moment there was a testof strength as Phil lay chest to chest over his opponent, the gunblocked between. Then the other grunted; squirmed violently--and therewas a muffled explosion. 

A cry of pain cut the midnight air, and with insane strength Holmes'ambusher fought free from his grip, staggered to his feet and wentreeling away. Phil tore loose from the rope and bounded after him, never feeling, at the moment, his powder-burned chest. 

And then he halted in his tracks. 

A great roar came thundering over the desert!

 * * * * *

At once he knew that it came from the earth-borer's disintegrators. The sphere had started down without him. 

He stood stock still, petrified with surprise, facing the sound, whilehis attacker melted farther and farther into the night. And then, suddenly, Phil Holmes was sprinting desperately back towards theGuinness camp. 

He ran until he was exhausted; walked for a little while his legsgathered more strength, and his laboring lungs more air; and then ranagain. As the minutes passed, the thunder lessened rapidly into amuffled drone; and by the time Phil had panted up to the brink of thehole that gaped where but a little time before the sphere wasstanding, it had become but a distant purr. He leaned far over andpeered into the hot blackness below, but could see nothing. 

Phil knelt there silently for some minutes, shocked by his strangeattack, bewildered by the unexpected descent of the borer. For a timehis mind would not work; he had no idea what to do. But gradually histhoughts came to order and made certain things clear. 

He had been deliberately ambushed. Only by luck had he escaped, hetold himself. If it hadn't been for the water jug, he'd now be out ofthe picture. And on the heels of the ambush had came the surprisingdescent of the earth-borer. The two incidents coincided too well: thesame mind had planned them. And two, men, at least, were in on theplot. .. . It suddenly became very clear to him that the answer to thepuzzle lay with the man who had ambushed him. He would have to getthat man. Track him down. 

Phil acted with decision. He got to his feet and strode rapidly to thedeserted Guinness shack, horribly quiet and lonely now in the brightmoonlight. In a minute he emerged with a flashlight at his belt and arifle across his arm. 

Once again he went over to the new black hole in the desert and lookeddown. From far below still came the purr, now fainter than ever. Hisfriend, the girl he loved, were down there, he reflected bitterly, andhe was helpless to reach them. Well, there was one thing he coulddo--go man-hunting. Turning, he started off at a long lope for thewater-hole. 

 * * * * *

Ten minutes later he was there, and off to the side he found the marksof their scuffle--and small black blotches that could be nothing butblood. The other was wounded: could probably not get far. But he mightstill have his gun, so Phil kept his rifle handy, and tempered hisimpatience with caution as he set out on the trail of the widelyspaced footprints. 

They led off towards the nearby hills, and in the bright moonlightPhil did not use his flashlight at all, except to investigate otherround black blotches that made a line parallel to the prints. As hewent on he found his quarry's steps coming more closely together:becoming erratic. Soon they showed as painful drags in the sand, alaborious hauling of one foot after the other. .. . Phil put away hislight and advanced very cautiously. 

He wondered, as he went, who in the devil was behind it all. Theradium-finding project had been kept strictly secret. Not another soulwas supposed to know of the earth-borer and its daring mission intothe heart of the earth. Yet, obviously, someone had found out, andwhoever it was had laid at least part of his scheme cunningly. An oldman and a girl cannot offer much resistance: he, Phil, would have beenwell taken care of had it not been for the water jug. So far, therewere at least two in the plot: the man who had ambushed him and theunknown who had evidently kidnapped both Professor and Sue Guinness. But there might be still more. 

There might be friends, nearby, of the man he was tracking. The fellowmight have reached them, and warned them that the scheme hadn't gonethrough, that Phil was loose. They could very easily concealthemselves alongside their partner's tracks and train their rifles onthe tracker. .. . 

The trail was leading up into one of the cañons in the cluster ofhills to the west. For some distance he followed it up through a slashof black below the steep moonlit heights of the hills to eachside--and then, suddenly, he vaguely made out the forms of two hutsjust ahead. 

Immediately he stooped low, and went skirting widely off up one side. He proceeded slowly, with great caution, his rifle at the ready. Atany moment, he knew, the hush might be split by the cracks ofwaylaying guns. Warily he advanced along the narrow cañon wall abovethe huts. No lights were lit, and the place seemed unoccupied. He wasdebating what to do next when his attention was attracted to a largedark object lying in the cañon trail some twenty yards from thenearest hut. Straining his eyes in the inadequate moonlight, he sawthat it was the outstretched figure of a man. His quarry--hisambusher!

 * * * * *

Phil dropped flat, fearful of being seen. Keeping as best he could inthe shadows, fearing every moment to hear the sharp bark of a gun, hecrawled forward. It took him a long time to approach the sprawledfigure, but he wasn't taking chances. When within twenty feet, he rosesuddenly and darted forward to the man's side. 

His rapid glance showed him that the fellow was completely out: andanother quick look around failed to show that anyone else waswatching, so he returned to his examination of the man. It was theambusher, all right: a Mexican. He was still breathing, though hisface was drawn and white from the loss of blood from a wound under theblood-soaked clothing near his upper right arm. A hasty search showedthat he no longer had his gun, so Phil, satisfied that he waspowerless for some time to come, cautiously wormed his way towards thetwo shacks. 

There was something sinister in the strange silence that hung overthem. One was of queer construction--a windowless, square, high boxof galvanized iron. The other was obviously a dwelling place. Carefully Phil sneaked up to the latter. Then, rifle ready, he pushedits door open and sent a beam of light stabbing through the darknessof the interior. 

There was no one there. Only two bunks, a table, chair, a pail ofwater and some cooking utensils met his view. He crept out toward theother building. 

Come close, Phil found that a dun-colored canvas had been thrown overthe top of it, making an adequate camouflage in daytime. The place wasabout twenty feet high. He prowled around the metal walls anddiscovered a rickety door. Again, gun ready, he flung it open. Thebeam from his flash speared a path through the blackness--and hegasped at sight of what stood revealed. 

There, inside, was a long, bullet-like tube of metal, the pointed endupper-most, and the bottom, which was flat, toward the ground. It washeld in a wooden cradle, and was slanted at the floor. In the bottomwere holes of two shapes--rocket tubes and disintegrating projectors. It was another earth-borer. 

 * * * * *

Phil stood frozen with surprise before this totally unlooked-formachine. He could easily have been overcome, had the owner been in thebuilding, for he had forgotten everything but what his eyes werestaring at. He started slowly around the borer, found a long narrowdoor slightly ajar, and stepped inside. 

This borer, like Guinness's, had a double shell, and much the sameinstruments, though the whole job was simpler and cruder. A smallinstrument board contained inclination, temperature, depth andair-purity indicators, and narrow tubes led to the air rectifiers. Butwhat kept Holmes' attention were the wires running from the magneto tothe mixing chambers of the disintegrating tubes. 

"The fools!" he exclaimed, "--they didn't know how to wire the thing!Or else, " he added after a moment, "didn't get around to doing it. " Henoticed that the projectile's interior contained no gyroscope: though, he thought, none would be needed, for the machine, being long andnarrow, could not change keel while in the ground. Here he wasreminded of something. Stepping outside, he estimated the angle theborer made with the dirt floor. Twenty degrees. "And pointedsouthwest!" he exclaimed aloud. "This borer would come close tomeeting the professor's, four miles under our camp!"

 * * * * *

At once he knew what he would do. First he went back to the othershack and got the pail of water he had noticed, and took this outwhere the Mexican lay outstretched. He bathed the man's face and thestill slightly bleeding bullet wound in his shoulder. 

Presently the wounded man came to. His eyes opened, and he stared upinto a steel mask of a face, in which two level black eyes bored intohis. He remembered that face--remembered it all too well. He trembled, cowered away. 

"No!" he gasped, as if he had seen a ghost. "No--no!"

"Yes, I'm the man, " Holmes told him firmly, menacingly. "The same oneyou tried to ambush. " He paused a moment, then said: "Do you want tolive?"

It was a simple question, frightening in its simplicity. 

"Because if you don't answer my questions, I'm going to let you liehere, " Phil went on coldly. "And that would probably mean your death. If you do answer, I'll fix you up so you can have a chance. "

The Mexican nodded eagerly. "I talk, " he said. 

"Good, " said Phil. "Then tell me who built that machine?"

"Señor Quade. Señor James Quade. "

"Quade!" Phil had heard the name before. "Of course!" he said. "Guinness's old partner!"

"I not know, " the Mexican answered. "He hire me with much money. Hebuy thees machine inside, and we put him together. But he could nomake him work--it take too long. We watch, hear old man go downto-night, and--"

 * * * * *

The greaser stopped. "And so he sent you to get me, while he kidnappedthe old man and his daughter and forced them under the ground in theirown borer, " Holmes supplied, and the other nodded. 

"But I only mean to tie you!" he blurted, gesturing weakly. "I no meanshoot! No, no--"

"All right--forget it, " Phil interrupted. "And now tell me what Quadeexpects to do down there. "

"I not know, Señor, " came the hesitant reply, "but. .. . "

"But what?" the young man jerked. 

Reluctantly the wounded Mexican continued. "Señor Quade--he--I thinkhe don' like thees old man. I think he leave heem an' the girl downbelow. Then he come up an' say they keeled going down. "

Phil nodded grimly. "I see, " he said, voicing his thoughts. "Then hewould say that he and Professor Guinness are still partners--and theradium ore will belong to him. Very nice. Very nice. .. . "

He snapped back to action, and without another word hoisted theMexican onto his back and carried him into the shack. There hecleansed the wound, rigged up a tight bandage for it, and tied the manto one of the cots. He tied him in such a fashion that he could reachsome food and water he put by the cot. 

"You leave me like thees?" the Mexican asked. 

"Yes, " Phil said, and started for the door. 

"But what you going to do?"

Phil smiled grimly as he flung an answer back over his shoulder. 

"Me?--I'm going to fix the wiring on those disintegrators in yourfriend Quade's borer. Then I'm starting down after him. " He stoppedand turned before he closed the door. "And if I don't get back--well, it's just too bad for you!"

 * * * * *

And so, a little later, once more the hushed desert night was cleft bya furious bellow of sound. It came, this time, from a narrow cañon. The steep sides threw the roar back and back again, and the echoesswelled to an earth-shaking blast of sound. The oblong hut from whichit came rocked and almost fell; then, as the noise began to lessen, teetered on its foundations and half-slipped into the ragged hole thathad been bored inside. 

The descent was a nightmare that Holmes would never forget. Quade'smachine was much cruder and less efficient than the sphere DavidGuinness had designed. Its protecting insulation proved quiteinadequate, and the heat rapidly grew terrific as the borer dug down. Phil became faint, stifled, and his body oozed streams of sweat. Andthe descent was also bumpy and uneven; often he was forced to leavethe controls and work on the mechanism of the disintegrators when theyfaltered and threatened to stop. But in spite of everything the needleon the depth gauge gradually swung over to three thousand, and four, and five. .. . 

After the first mile Holmes improvised a way to change the air morerapidly, and it grew a little cooler. He watched the story the depthgauge told with narrowed eyes, and, as it reached three miles, inspected his rifle. At three and a half miles he stopped the borer, thinking to try to hear the noise made by the other, but so paralyzedwere his ear-drums from the terrific thunder beneath, it seemed hardlyany quieter when it ceased. 

His plans were vague; they would have to be made according to theconditions he found. There was a coil of rope in the tube-likeinterior of the borer, and he hoped to find a cavern or cleft in theearth for lateral exploring. He would stop at a depth of fourmiles--where he should be very near the path of the professor'ssphere. 

But Phil never saw the needle on the gauge rise to four miles. Atthree and three quarters came sudden catastrophe. 

He knew only that there was an awful moment of utter helplessness, when the borer swooped wildly downwards, and the floor was snatchedsickeningly from under him. He was thrown violently against theinstrument panel; then up toward the pointed top; and at the sameinstant came a rending crash that drove his senses from him. .. . 

CHAPTER III

"_You Haven't the Guts_"

"Just as I thought, " said James Quade in the silence that fell whenthe last echoes had died away, and the splinters of steel and rock hadsettled. "You see, Professor, this earth-borer belongs to me. Yes, Ibuilt one too. But I couldn't, unfortunately, get it workingproperly--that is, in time to get down here first. After all, I'm nota scientist, and remembered little enough of your borer's plans. .. . It's probably young Holmes who's dropped in on us. Shall we see?"

David Guinness and his daughter were speechless with dread. Quade hadtrained the searchlight on the borer, and by turning their heads theycould see it plainly. It was all too clear that the machine was atotal wreck. It had pitched over onto one side, its shell cracked andmangled irreparably. Grotesque pieces of crumpled metal lay all aroundit. Its slanting course had tumbled it within fifteen yards of thesphere. 

In silence the old man and the girl watched Quade walk deliberatelyover to it, his automatic steady in his right hand. He wrenched at thelong, narrow door, but it was so badly bent that for a while he couldnot get it open. At last it swung out, however, and Quade peeredinside. 

After a moment he reached in and drew out a rifle. He took it over toa nearby rock, smashed the gun's breech, then flung it, useless, aside. Returning to the borer, he again peered in. 

Sue was about to scream from the torturous suspense when he at laststraightened up and looked around at the white-faced girl and herfather. 

"Mr. Holmes is tougher than I'd thought possible, " he said, with athin smile; "he's still alive. " And, as Sue gasped with relief, headded: "Would you like to see him?"

 * * * * *

He dragged the young man's unconscious body roughly out on the floor. There were several bad bruises on his face and head, but otherwise hewas apparently uninjured. As Quade stood over him, playing idly withthe automatic, he stirred, and blinked, and at last, with an effort, got up on one elbow and looked straight at the thin lips and narrowedeyes of the man standing above. He shook his head, trying tocomprehend, then muttered hazily:

"You--you're--Quade?"

Quade did not have time to answer, for Sue Guinness cried out:

"Phil! Are you all right?"

Phil stared stupidly around, caught sight of the two who lay bound onthe floor, and staggered to his feet. "Sue!" he cried, relief andunderstanding flooding his voice. He started towards her. 

"Stand where you are!" Quade snapped harshly, and the automatic in hishand came up. Holmes peered at it and stopped, but his blood-streakedface settled into tight lines, and his body tensed. 

"You'd better, " continued Quade. "Now tell me what happened to Juan. "

Phil forced himself to be calm. "Your pal, the greaser?" he saidcuttingly. "He's lying on a bunk in your shack. He shot himself, playing with a gun. "

Quade chose not to notice the way Phil said this, but a little of thesuave self-confidence was gone from his face as he said: "Well, inthat case I'll have to hurry back to the surface to attend to him. Butdon't be alarmed, " he added, more brightly. "I'll be back for you allin an hour or so. "

At this, David Guinness struggled frantically with his bonds andyelled:

"Don't believe him, Phil! He's going to leave us here, to starve anddie! He told us so just before you came down!"

 * * * * *

Quade's face twitched perceptibly. His eyes were nervous. 

"Is that true, Quade?" Holmes asked. There was a steely note in hisvoice. 

"Why--no, of course not, " the other said hastily, uncertain whether tolie or not. "Of course I didn't!"

Phil Holmes looked square into his eyes. He bluffed. 

"You couldn't desert us, Quade. You haven't the guts. You haven't theguts. "

His face and eyes burned with the contempt that was in his words. Itcut Quade to the raw. But he could not avoid Phil's eyes. He stared atthem for a full moment, trembling slightly. Slowly, by inches, hestarted to back toward the sphere; then suddenly he ran for it withall his might, Holmes after him. Quade got to it first, and inside, ashe yanked in the searchlight and slammed and locked the door, heyelled:

"You'll see, you damned pup! You'll see!" And there was the smotheredsound of half-maniacal laughter. .. . 

Phil threw all his weight against the metal door, but it was hopelessand he knew it. He had gathered himself for another rush when he heardGuinness yell:

"Back, Phil--back! He'll turn on the side disintegrators!"

Mad with rage as the young man was, he at once saw the danger andleaped away--only to almost fall over the professor's prone body. Withhurrying, trembling fingers he untied the pair's bonds, and theystruggled to their feet, cramped and stiff. Then it was Phil whowarned them. 

"Back as far as you can! Hurry!" He grabbed Sue's hand and plungedtoward the uncertain protection of a huge rock far in the rear. Atonce he made them lie flat on the ground. 

 * * * * *

As yet the sphere had not stirred nor emitted a whisper of sound, though they knew the man inside was conning the controls in a fever ofhaste to leave the cavern. But they hadn't long to wait. There came asputter, a starting cough from the rocket tubes beneath the sphere. Quickly they warmed into life, and the dully glimmering ball rocked inthe hole it lay in. Then a cataract of noise unleashed itself; adevastating thunder roared through the echoing cavern as the rocketsburst into full force. A wave of brilliant orange-red splashed outfrom under the sphere, licked back up its sides, and seemed literallyto shove the great ball up towards the hole in the ceiling. 

Its ascent was very slow. As it gained height it looked--save for itsspeed--like a fantastic meteor flaming through the night, for theorange plumage that streamed from beneath lit the ball with dazzlingcolor. A glowing sphere, it staggered midway between floor andceiling, creeping jerkily upwards. 

"He's not going to hit the hole!" shouted Guinness. 

The borer had not risen in a perfectly straight line; it jarredagainst the rim of the hole, and wavered uncertainly. Every second theroar of its rockets, swollen by echoes, rose in a savage crescendo;the faces of the three who watched were painted orange in the glow. 

The sphere was blind. The man inside could judge his course only bythe feel. As the three who were deserted watched, hoping ardently thatQuade would not be able to find the opening, the left side-rocketsspouted lances of fire, and they knew he had discovered the way tomaneuver the borer laterally. The new flames welded with the exhaustof the main tubes into a great fan-shaped tail, so brilliant and shotthrough with other colors that their eyes could not stand the sight, except in winks. The borer jerked to the right, but still it could notfind the hole. Then the flames lessened for a moment, and the borersank down, to rise again a moment later. Its ascent was so laboredthat Phil shouted to Professor Guinness:

"Why so slow?"

And the inventor told him that which he had not seen for theintolerable light. 

"Only half his rockets are on!"

 * * * * *

This time the sphere was correctly aimed, however, and it roaredstraight into the hole. Immediately the fierce sound of the exhaustwas muffled, and in a few seconds only the fiery plumage, shootingdown from the ceiling, showed where the machine was. Then thisdisappeared, and the noise alone was left. 

Phil leaped forward, intending to stare up, but Guinness's yell haltedhim. 

"Not yet! He might still use the disintegrators!"

For many minutes they waited, till the muffled exhaust had died to adrone. There was a puzzled expression on the professor's face as thethree at last walked over and dared peer up into the hole. Far above, the splash of orange lit the walls of the tunnel. 

"That's funny!" the old man muttered. "He's only using half therockets--about ten. I thought he'd turn them all on when he got intothe hole, but he didn't. Either they were damaged in the fall, orQuade doesn't see fit to use them. "

"Half of them are enough, " said Phil bitterly, and put his arm aroundthe quiet girl standing next to him. Together, a silent little group, they watched the spot of orange die to a pin-point; watched it waver, twinkle, ever growing smaller. .. . And then it was gone. 

Gone! Back to the surface of the earth, to the normal world ofreality. Only four miles above them--a small enough distance on thesurface itself--and yet it might have been a million miles, so utterlywere they barred from it. .. . 

 * * * * *

The same thought was in their minds, though none of them dared expressit. They were thinking of the serene desert, and the cool wind, andthe buttes and the high hills, placid in the moonlight. Of the hushedrise of the dawn, the first flush of the sun that was so achinglylovely on the desert. The sun they would never see again, buried in alifeless world of gloom four miles within. .. . And buried alive--andnot alive for long. .. . 

But that way lay madness. Phil Holmes drove the horrible thoughts fromhis brain and forced a smile to his face. 

"Well, that's that!" he said in a voice meant to be cheerful. 

The dim cavern echoed his words mockingly. With the earth-borergone--the man-made machine that had dared break a solitude undisturbedsince the earth first cooled--the great cavern seemed to return to itsawful original mood. The three dwarfed humans became wholly consciousof it. They felt it almost a living thing, stretching vastly aroundthem, tightening its unheard spell on them. Its smell, of mouldy earthand rocks down which water slowly dripped, filled their nostrils andsomehow added to their fear. 

As they looked about, their eyes became accustomed to the dim, eery, phosphorescent illumination. They saw little worm-like creatures nowand again appear from tiny holes between stalagmites in the jaggedfloor; and, as Phil wondered in his mind how long it would be beforethey would be reduced to using them for food, a strange mole-sizedanimal scraped from the darkness and pecked at one of them. As itslithered away, a writhing shape in its mouth, Holmes mutteredbitterly: "A competitor!" Vague, flitting forms haunted the gloomamong the stalactites of the distorted ceiling--hints of the thingsthat lived in the terrible silence of this nether world. Here Time hadpaused, and life had halted in primate form. 

A little moan came from Sue Guinness's pale lips. She plucked at herarm; a sickly white worm, only an inch long, had fallen on it from theceiling. "Oh!" she gasped. "Oh!"

Phil drew her closer to him, and walked with her over to Quade'swrecked borer. "Let's see what we've got here, " he suggestedcheerfully. 

The machine was over on its side, the metal mangled and crushed beyondrepair. Nevertheless, he squeezed into it. "Stand back!" he warned. "I'm going to try its rockets!" There was a click of broken machinery, and that was all. "Rockets gone, " Phil muttered. 

He pulled another lever over. There was a sputter from within theborer, then a furious roar that sent great echoes beating through thecavern. A cloud of dust reared up before the bottom of the machine, whipped madly for a moment, and sank as the bellow of sound died down. Sue saw that a rocky rise in the floor directly in front of thedisintegrators had been planed off levelly. 

Phil scrambled out. "The disintegrators work, " he said, "but a lot ofgood they do us. The borer's hopelessly cracked. " He shrugged hisshoulders, and with a discouraged gesture cast to the ground a coil ofrope he had found inside. 

Then suddenly he swung around. "Professor!" he called to the oldfigure standing bowed beneath the hole in the ceiling. "There's adraft blowing from somewhere! Do you feel it?"

Guinness felt with his hands a moment and nodded slowly. "Yes, " hesaid. 

"It's coming from this way!" Sue said excitedly, pointing into thedarkness on one side of the cavern. "And it goes up the hole we madein the ceiling!"

Phil turned eagerly to the old inventor. "It must come fromsomewhere, " he said, "and that somewhere may take us toward thesurface. Let's follow it!"

"We might as well, " the other agreed wearily. His was the tone of aman who has only a certain time to live. 

But Phil was more eager. "While there's life, there's hope, " he saidcheerfully. "Come on, Sue, Professor!" And he led the way forwardtoward the dim, distorted rock shapes in the distance. 

 * * * * *

The roof and sides of the cavern angled down into a rough, tunnel-likeopening, from which the draft swept. It was a heavy air, weighted withthe smell of moist earth and lifeless water and a nameless, flat, stale gas. They slowly made their way through the impedingstalagmites, surrounded by a dark blur of shadows, the ghostlyphosphorescent light illuminating well only the few rods around them. Utter silence brooded over the tunnel. 

Phil paused when they had gone about seventy-five feet. "I left thatrope behind, " he said, "and we may need it. I'll return and get it, and you both wait right here. " With the words he turned and went backinto the shadows. 

He went as fast as he could, not liking to leave the other two alone. But when he had retrieved the rope and tied it to his waist, hepermitted himself a last look up as he passed under the hole in theceiling--and what he saw there tensed every muscle in his body, andmade his heart beat like mad. Again there was a tiny spot of orange inthe blackness above!

"Professor!" he yelled excitedly. "Sue! Come here! The sphere'scoming back!"

There was no doubt about it. The pin-point of light was growing eachsecond, with the flame of the descending exhausts. Guinness and hisdaughter ran from the tunnel, and, guided by Phil's excitedejaculations, hurried to his side. Their eyes confirmed what his hadseen. The earth-borer was coming down!

"But, " Guinness said bewilderedly, "those rockets were enough to lifthim!"

This was a mystery. Even though ten rockets were on--ten tiny spots oforange flame--the sphere came down swiftly. The same force which sometime before had lifted it slowly up was now insufficient. The roar ofthe tubes rose rapidly. "Get back!" Phil ordered, remembering thedanger, and they all retreated to the mouth of the tunnel, ready topeep cautiously around the edge. Holmes' jaws were locked tight withgrim resolution. Quade was coming back! he told himself exultantly. This time he must not go up alone! This time--!

But his half-formed resolutions were idle. He could not know whatfrightful thing was bringing Quade down--what frightful experience wasin store for them all. .. . 

CHAPTER IV

_Spawn of the Cavern_

In a crescendo of noise that stunned their ears, the earth-borer camedown. Tongues of fire flared from the hole, speared to the ground andwere deflected upward, cradling the metal ball in a wave of flame. Through this fiery curtain the machine slowly lowered to the floor, where a shower of sparks spattered out, blinding the eyes of thewatchers with their brilliance. For a full minute the orange-glowingsphere lay there, quivering from the vibration; then the exhausts diedand the wave of flame wavered and sank into nothingness. While theirear-drums continued the thunder, the three stared at the borer, notdaring to approach, yet striving to solve the mystery of why it hadsunk despite the up-thrust of ten rocket tubes. 

As their eyes again became accustomed to the familiar phosphorescentillumination, pallid and cold after the fierce orange flame, they sawwhy--and their eyes went wide with surprise and horror. 

A strange mass was covering the top of the earth-borer--something thatlooked like a heap of viscid, whitish jelly. It was sprawledshapelessly over the round upper part of the metal sphere, ahalf-transparent, loathsome stuff, several feet thick in places. 

And Phil Holmes, striving to understand what it could be, saw an awfulthing. "It's moving!" he whispered, unconsciously drawing Sue closer. "There's--there's life in it!"

Lazy quiverings were running through the mound of jelly, pulsings thatgave evidence of its low organism. They saw little ripples of evenbeat run over it, and under them steady, sluggish convulsions thattold of life; that showed, perhaps, that the thing was hungry andpreparing to move its body in quest of food. 

It was alive, unquestionably. The borer lay still, but this thingmoved internally, of itself. It was life in its lowest, most primateform. The mass was mind, stomach, muscle and body all in one, starkand raw before their startled eyes. 

"Oh, God!" Phil whispered through the long pause. "It can't bereal!. .. "

"Protoplasm--a monster amoeba, " David Guinness's curiously crackedvoice said. "Just as it exists on the surface, only microscopically. Primate life. .. . "

 * * * * *

The lock of the earth-borer clicked. Phil gasped. "Quade is comingout!" he said. A little cry of horror came from Sue. And the metaldoor opened. 

James Quade stepped through, automatic in hand. He was fresh from thelight inside, and he could not see well. He was quite unconscious ofwhat was oozing down on him from above, of the flabby heap that wascarefully stretching down for him. He peered into the gloom, lookingfor the three he had deserted, and all the time an arm from the massabove crept nearer. Sue Guinness's nerves suddenly gave, and sheshrieked; but Quade's ears were deaf from the borer's thunder, and hedid not hear her. 

It was when he lifted one foot back into the sphere--probably to getout the searchlight--that he felt the thing's presence. He lookedup--and a strange sound came from him. For seconds he apparently couldnot move, stark fear rooting him to the ground, the gun limp in hishand. 

Then a surge ran through the mound of flesh, and the arm, a pseudopod, reached more rapidly for him. 

It stung Quade into action. He leaped back, brought up his automatic, and fired at the thing once; then three times more. He, and each oneof the others, saw four bullets thud into the heap of pallid matterand heard them clang on the metal of the sphere beneath. They had goneright through its flesh--but they showed no slightest effect!

Quade was evidently unwilling to leave the sphere. Jerking his arm uphe brought his trigger finger back again. A burst of three more shotsbarked through the cavern, echoing and re-echoing. The man screamed aninarticulate oath as he saw how useless his bullets were, and hurledthe empty gun at the monster--which was down on the floor now, andbunching its sluggish body together. 

The automatic went right into it. They could all see it there, in themiddle of the amorphous body, while the creature stopped, as ifdetermining whether or not it was food. Quade screwed his couragetogether in the pause, and tried to dodge past to the door of thesphere; but the monster was alert: another pseudopod sprang out fromits shapeless flesh, sending him back on his heels. 

The feeler had all but touched Quade, and with the closeness of hisescape, the remnants of his courage gave. He yelled, and turned andran. 

 * * * * *

He ran straight for the three who watched from the tunnel mouth, andthe mound of shapeless jelly came fast on his trail. It came insurging rolls, like thick fluid oozing forward; it would have beenhard to measure its size, for each moment it changed. The onlyimpression the four humans had was that of a wave of half-transparentmatter that one instant was a sticky ball of viscid flesh and the nexta rapidly advancing crescent whose horns reached far out on each flankto cut off retreat. 

By instinct Phil jerked Sue around and yelled at the professor to run, for the old man seemed to be frozen into an attitude of fearfulinterest. Bullets would not stop the thing--could anything? Holmeswondered. He could visualize all too easily the death they would meetif that shapeless, naked protoplasmic mass overtook and flowed overthem. .. . 

But he wasted no time with such thoughts. They ran, all three, intothe dark tunnel. 

Quade caught up with them quickly. Personal enmity was suspendedbefore this common peril. They could not run at full speed, for amultitude of obstacles hindered them. Tortuous ridges of rock laydirectly across their path, formations that had been whipped in somemad, eon-old convulsion and then, through the ages, remained frozeninto their present distortion; black pits gaped suddenly before them;half-seen stalagmites, whose crystalline edges were razor-sharp, torethrough to their flesh. Haste was perilous where every moment theymight stumble into an unseen cleft and go pitching into awful depthsbelow. They were staking everything on the draft that blew steadilyin their faces; Phil told himself desperately that it must lead tosome opening--it must!

But what if the opening were a vertical, impassable tunnel? He wouldnot think of that. .. . 

Old David Guinness tired fast, and was already lagging in the rearwhen Quade gasped hoarsely:

"Hurry! It's close behind!"

 * * * * *

Surging rapidly at a constant distance behind them, it came on. It wasas fast as they were, and evidently untiring. It was in its ownelement; obstacles meant nothing to it. It oozed over the jaggedridges that took the humans precious moments to scramble past, and thespeed of its weird progress seemed to increase as theirs faltered. Itwas a heartless mass driven inexorably by primal instinct towards thefood that lay ahead. The dim phosphorescent illumination tinged itsflabby tissues a weird white. 

The passage they stumbled through narrowed. Long irregular spears ofstalactites hung from the unseen ceiling; others, the drippings ofages, pronged up from the floor, shredding their clothes as theyjarred into them. One moment they were clambering up-hill, slipping onthe damp rock; the next they were sliding down into unprobed darkness, reckless of where they would land. They were aware only that thewater-odorous draft was still in their faces, and the hungry mound offlesh behind. .. . 

"I can't last much longer!" old Guinness's winded voice gasped. "Bestleave me behind. I--I might delay it!"

For answer, Phil went back, grabbed him by the arm and dragged histired body forward. He was snatching a glance behind to see how closethe monster was, when Sue's frightened voice reached him from ahead. 

"There's a wall here, Phil--and no way through!"

And then Holmes came to it. It barred the passage, and was apparentlyunbroken. Yet the draft still came!

"Search for where the draft enters!" he yelled. "You take that side!"And he started feeling over the clammy, uneven surface, searchingfrantically for a cleft. It seemed to be hopeless. Quade stood staringback into the gloom, his eyes looking for what he knew was surgingtowards them. His face had gone sickly white, he was trembling as ifwith fever, and he sucked in air with long, racking gasps. 

"Here! I have it!" cried the girl suddenly at her end of the wall. Theother three ran over, and saw, just above her head, a narrow rift inthe rock, barely wide enough to squirm through. "Into it!" Philordered tersely. He grasped her, raised her high, and she wormedthrough. Quade scrambled to get in next, but Holmes shoved him asideand boosted the old man through. Then he helped the other. 

A second after he had swung himself up, a wave of whitish matterrolled up below, hungry pseudopods reaching for the food it knew wasnear. It began to trickle up the wall. .. . 

 * * * * *

The crack was narrow and jagged; utterly black. Phil could hear Quadefrantically worming himself ahead, and he wondered achingly if itwould lead anywhere. Then a faint, clear voice from ahead rang out:

"It's opening up!"

Sue's voice! Phil breathed more easily. The next moment Quadescrambled through; dim light came; and they were in another vast, ghostly-lit cavern. 

The crack came out on its floor-level; Guinness was resting near, andhis daughter had her hands on a large boulder of rock. "Let's shove itagainst the hole!" she suggested to Phil. "It might stop it!"

"Good, Sue, good!" he exclaimed, and at once all four of them strainedat the chunk, putting forth every bit of strength they had. Theboulder stirred, rolled over, and thudded neatly in front of thecrack, almost completely sealing it. There was only a cleft of fiveinches on one side. 

But their expression of relief died in their throats. A tiny trickleof white appeared through the niche. The amorphous monster wascompressing itself to a single stream, thin enough to squeeze througheven that narrow space. 

They could not block it. They had nothing to attack it with. There wasnothing to do but run. .. . And hope for a chance to double back. .. . 

As nearly as they could make out, this second cavern was as large asthe first. They could dimly see the fantastic shapes of hundreds ofstalactites hanging from the ceiling. Clumps of stalagmites made thefloor a maze which they threaded painfully. The strong steady draftguided them like a radio beacon, leading them to their only faint hopeof escape and life. Guinness, very tired, staggered alongmechanically, a heavy weight on Phil's supporting arm; James Quade ranhere and there in frantic spurts of speed. Sue was silent, but thehopelessness in her eyes tortured Phil like a wound. His shirt hadlong since been ripped to shreds; his face, bruised in the first placeby the borer he had crashed in, now was scratched and bloody fromcontact with rough stalagmites. 

 * * * * *

Then, without warning, they suddenly found among the rough walls onthe far side of the cavern, the birthplace of the draft. It lay at theedge of the floor--a dark hole, very wide. Black, sinister and clammyfrom the draft that poured from it, it pierced vertically down intothe very bowels of the earth. It was impassable. 

James Quade crumpled at the brink; "It's the end!" he moaned. "Wecan't go farther! It's the end of the draft!"

The hole blocked their forward path completely. They could not goahead. .. . In seconds, it seemed, the slithering that told of themonster's approach sounded from behind. Sue's eyes were already fixedon the awful, surging mass when a voice off to one side yelled:

"Here! Quick!"

It was Phil Holmes. He had been scouting through the gloom, and hadfound something. 

The other three ran to him. "There's another draft going throughhere, " he explained rapidly, pointing to an angled crevice in therocky wall. "There's a good chance it goes to the cavern where thesphere and the hole to the surface are. Anyway, we've got to take it. I'd better go first, after this--and you, Quade, last. I trust youless than the monster behind. "

He turned and edged into the crack, and the others followed as he hadordered. Quickly the passageway broadened, and they found the goingmuch easier than it had been before. For perhaps ten minutes theyscrambled along, with the draft always on their backs and the blessed, though faint, fire of hope kindling again. In all that time they didnot see their pursuer once, and the hope that they had lost it broughta measure of much needed optimism to drive their tired bodies onward. They found but few time-wasting obstacles. If only the tunnel wouldcontinue right into the original cavern! If only their path would stayclear and unhindered!

But it did not. The sound of Phil's footsteps ahead stopped, and whenSue and her father came up they saw why. 

"A river!" Phil said. 

 * * * * *

They were standing on a narrow ledge that overhung an undergroundriver. A fetid smell of age-old, lifeless water rose from it. Dimly, at least fifty feet across, they could see the other side, shrouded invague shadows. The inky stream beneath did not seem to move at all, but remained smooth and hard and thick-looking. 

They could not go around it. The ledge was only a few feet wide, andblocked at each side. 

"Got to cross!" Phil said tersely. 

Quade, sickly-faced, stared down. "There--there might be other thingsin that water!" he gasped. "Monsters!"

"Sure, " agreed Phil contemptuously. "You'd better stay here. " Heturned to the others. "I'll see how deep it is, " he said, and withoutthe faintest hesitation dove flatly in. 

Oily ripples washed back, and they saw his head poke through, sputtering. "Not deep, " he said. "Chest-high. Come on. "

He reached for Sue, helped her down, and did the same for her father. Holding each by the hand, Sue's head barely above the water, hestarted across. They had not gone more than twenty feet when theyheard Quade, left on the bank, give a hoarse yell of fear and diveinto the water. Their dread pursuer had caught up with them. 

And it followed--on the water! Phil had hoped it would not be able tocross, but once more the thing's astounding adaptability dashed hishopes. Without hesitation, the whitish jelly sprawled out over thewater, rolling after them with ghastly, snake-like ripples, its pallidbody standing out gruesomely against the black, odorous tide. 

Quade came up thrashing madly, some feet to the side of the otherthree. He was swimming--and swimming with such strength that hequickly left them behind. He would be across before they; and thatmeant there was a good chance that the earth-borer would go up againwith only one passenger. .. . 

Phil fought against the water, pulling Sue and her father forward asbest he could. From behind came the rippling sound of their shapelesspursuer. "Ten feet more--" Holmes began--then abruptly stopped. 

There had been a swish, a ripple upstream. And as their heads turnedthey saw the water part and a black head, long, evil, glistening, pointing coldly down to where they were struggling towards the shore. Phil Holmes felt his strength ooze out. He heard Professor Guinnessgasp:

"A water-snake!"

 * * * * *

Its head was reared above the surface, gliding down on them silently, leaving a wedge of long, sluggish ripples behind. When thirty feetaway the glistening head dipped under, and a great half-circle ofleg-thick body arched out. It was like an oily stream of curved cable;then it ended in a pointed tail--and the creature was entirely underwater. .. . 

With desperate strength Phil hauled the girl to the bank and, standingin several feet of water, pushed her up. Then he whirled and yankedold Guinness past him up into the hands of his daughter. With themsafe, and Sue reaching out her hand for him, he began to scramble uphimself. 

But he was too late. There was a swish in the water behind him, andtoothless, hard-gummed jaws clamped tight over one leg and drew himback and under. And with the touch of the creature's mouth a stiffshock jolted him; his body went numb; his arms flopped limply down. Hewas paralyzed. 

Sue Guinness cried out. Her father stared helplessly at the spot wherehis young partner had disappeared with so little commotion. 

"It was an eel, " he muttered dully. "Some kind of electric eel. .. . "

Phil dimly realized the same thing. A moment later his face broke thesurface, but he could not cry out; he could not move his littlefinger. Only his involuntary muscles kept working--his heart and hislungs. He found he could control his breathing a little. .. . And thenhe was wondering why he was remaining motionless on the surface. Gradually he came to understand. 

He had not felt it, but the eel had let go its hold on his leg, andhad disappeared. But only for a moment. Suddenly, from somewhere near, its gleaming body writhed crazily, and a terrific twist of its tailhit Phil a glancing blow on the chest. He was swept under, and thewater around him became a maelstrom. When next he bobbed to thetumultuous surface, he managed to get a much-needed breath ofair--and in the swirling currents glimpsed the long, snake-like headof the eel go shooting by, with thin trickles of stuff that lookedlike white jelly clinging to it. 

That explained what was happening. The eel had been challenged by theameboid monster, and they were fighting for possession of him--thecommon prey. 

 * * * * *

The water became an inferno of whipping and lashing movements, ofwhitish fibers and spearing thrusts of a glistening black electricbody. Unquestionably the eel was using its numbing electric shock onits foe. Time and time again Phil felt the amoeba grasp him, searingly, only to be wrenched free by the force of the currents thecombat stirred up. Once he thudded into the bottom of the river, andhis lungs seemed about to burst before he was again shot to the topand managed to get a breath. At last the water quieted somewhat, andPhil, at the surface, saw the eel bury its head in a now apatheticmound of flesh. 

It tore a portion loose with savage jaws, a portion that still writhedafter it was separated from the parent mass; and then the victorglided swiftly downstream, and disappeared under the surface. .. . 

Holmes floated helplessly on the inky water. He could see the amoebaplainly; it was still partly paralyzed, for it was very still. Butthen a faint tremor ran through it; a wave ran over its surface--andit moved slowly towards him once again. 

Desperately Phil tried to retreat. The will was there, but the bodywould not work. Save for a feeble flutter of his hands and feet, hecould not move. He could not even turn around to bid Sue and DavidGuinness good-by--with his eyes. .. . 

Then a fresh, loved voice sounded just behind him, and he feltsomething tighten around his waist. 

"It's all right, dear!" the voice called. "Hang on; we'll get youout!"

Sue had come in after him! She had grasped the rope tied to his belt, and she and her father were pulling him back to the bank!

He wanted to tell her to go back--the amoeba was only feet away--buthe could only manage a little croak. And then he was safe up on theledge at the other side of the river. 

 * * * * *

A surge of strength filled his limbs, and he knew the shock wasrapidly wearing off. But it was also wearing off of the monster in thewater. Its speed increased; the ripplings of its amorphousbody-substance became quicker, more excited. It came on steadily. 

While it came, the girl and her father worked desperately over Phil, massaging his body and pulling him further up the bank. It had all butreached the bank when Holmes gasped:

"I think I can walk now. Where--where did Quade go to?"

Guinness gestured over to the right, up a dim winding passage throughthe rocks. 

"Then we must follow--fast!" Phil said, staggering to his feet. "Hemay get to the sphere first; he'll go up by himself even yet! I'm allright!"

Despite his words, he could not run, and could only command an awkwardwalk. Sue lifted one of his arms around her shoulder, and her fathertook the other, and without a backward glance they labored ahead. ButPhil's strength quickly returned, and they raised the pace until theyhad broken once more into a stumbling run. 

How far ahead James Quade was, they did not know, but obviously theycould follow where he had gone. Once again the draft was strong ontheir backs. They felt sure they were on the last stretch, headed forthe earth-borer. But, unless they could overtake Quade, he would bethere first. They had no illusions about what that would mean. .. . 

CHAPTER V

_A Death More Hideous_

Quade was there first. 

When they burst out of a narrow crevice, not far from thefunnel-shaped opening they had originally entered, they saw himstanding beside the open door of the sphere as if waiting. Thesearchlight inside was still on, and in its shaft of light they couldsee that he was smiling thinly, once more his old, confident self. Itwould only take him a second to jump in, slam the door and lock it. Hecould afford a last gesture. .. . 

The three stopped short. They saw something he did not. 

"So!" he observed in his familiar, mocking voice. He paused, seeingthat they did not come on. He had plenty of time. 

He said something else, but the two men and the girl did not hear whatit was. As if by a magnet their eyes were held by what was hangingabove him, clinging to the lip of the hole the sphere had made in theceiling. 

It was an amoeba, another of those single-celled, protoplasmic moundsof flesh. It had evidently come down through the hole; and now it wasstretching, rubber-like, lower and lower, a living, reachingstalactite of whitish hunger. 

Quade was all unconscious of it. His final words reached Phil'sconsciousness. 

". .. And this time, of course, I will keep the top disintegrators on. No other monster will then be able to weigh me down!"

He shrugged his shoulders and turned to the door. And that movementwas the signal that brought his doom. Without a sound, the poised massabove dropped. 

James Quade never knew what hit him. The heap of whitish jelly fellsquarely. There was a brief moment of frantic lashing, of torturedstruggles--then only tiny ripples running through the monster as itfed. 

Sue Guinness turned her head. But the two men for some reason couldnot take their eyes away. .. . 

 * * * * *

It was the girl's voice that jerked them back to reality. "The other!"she gasped. "It's coming, behind!"

They had completely forgotten the mass in the tunnel. Turning, theysaw that it was only fifteen feet away and approaching fast, andinstinctively they ran out into the cavern, skirting the spherewidely. When they came to Quade's wrecked borer Phil, who had snatcheda glance behind, dragged them down behind it. For he had seen theirpursuer abandon the chase and go to share in the meal of its fellow. 

"We'd best not get too far away, " he whispered. "When they leave thefront of the borer, maybe we can make a dash for it. "

For minutes that went like hours the young man watched, waiting forthe creatures to be done, hoping that they would go away. Fortunatelythe sphere lay between, and he was not forced to see too much. Onlyone portion of one of the monsters was visible, lapping out frombehind the machine. .. . 

At last his body tensed, and he gripped Sue and her father's arm inquick warning. The things were leaving the sphere. Or, rather, onlyone was. For Phil saw that they had agglutenated--merged intooneness--and now the monster that remained was the sum of the sizes ofthe original two. And more. .. . 

They all watched. And they all saw the amoeba stop, hesitate for amoment--and come straight for the wrecked borer behind which they werehidden. 

"Damn!" Phil whispered hoarsely. "It's still hungry--and it's afterus!"

David Guinness sighed wearily. "It's heavy and sluggish, now, " hesaid, "so maybe if we run again. .. . Though I don't know how I can lastany longer. .. . "

Holmes did not answer. His eyes were narrowed; he was casting aboutdesperately for a plan. He hardly felt Sue's light touch on his arm asshe whispered:

"In case, Phil--in case. .. . This must be good-by. .. . "

But the young man turned to her with gleaming eyes. "Good-by, nothing!" he cried. "We've still got a card to play!"

 * * * * *

She stared at him, wondering if he had cracked from the strain of whathe had passed through. But his next words assured her he had not. "Goback, Sue, " he said levelly. "Go far back. We'll win through thisyet. "

She hesitated, then obeyed. She crept back from the wrecked borer, back into the dim rear, eyes on Phil and the sluggish mass that movedinexorably towards him. When she had gone fifteen or twenty yards shepaused, and watched the two men anxiously. 

Phil was talking swiftly to Professor Guinness. His voice was low andlevel, and though she could not hear the words she could catch thetone of assurance that ran through them. She saw her father nod hishead, and he seemed to make the gesture with vigor. "I will, " sheheard him say; and he slapped Phil on the back, adding: "But for God'ssake, be careful!"

And with these words the old man wormed inside Quade's wrecked borerand was gone from the girl's sight. 

She wanted desperately to run forward and learn what Phil intended todo, but she restrained herself and obeyed his order. She waited, andwatched; and saw the young man stand up, look at the slowly advancingmonster--and deliberately walk right into its path!

Sue could not move from her fright. In a daze she saw Phil advancecautiously towards the amoeba and pause when within five feet of it. The thing stopped; remained absolutely motionless. She saw him takeanother short step forward. This time a pseudopod emerged, and reachedslowly out for him. Phil avoided it easily, but by so narrow a marginthat the girl's heart stopped beating. Then she saw him step back;and, snail-like, the creature followed, pausing twice, as if wary andsuspicious. Slowly Phil Holmes drew it after him. 

To Sue, who did not know what was his plan, it seemed a deliberateinvitation to death. She forgot about her father, lying inside themangled borer, waiting. She did not see that Phil was leading themonster directly in front of it. .. . 

 * * * * *

It was a grotesque, silent pursuit. The creature appeared to beunalert; its movements were sloth-like; yet the girl knew that if Philonce ventured an inch too close, or slipped, or tried to dodge past itto the sphere, its torpidness would vanish and it would have him. Hismaneuvering had to be delicate, judged to a matter of inches. Tensewith the suspense, the strain of the slow-paced seconds, shewatched--and yet hardly dared to watch, fearful of the awful thing shemight see. 

It was a fantastic game of tag her lover was playing, with death thepenalty for tardiness. The slow, enticing movements were repeatedagain and again, Phil advancing very close, and stepping back in thenick of time. Always he barely avoided the clutching white arms thatwere extended, and little by little he decoyed the thing onward. .. . 

Then came the end. As Holmes was almost in front of the wreckedmachine, Sue saw him glance quickly aside--and, as if waiting for thatmoment when he would be off guard, the monster whipped forward in agreat, reaching surge. 

Sue's ragged nerves cracked: she shrieked. They had him! She startedforward, then halted abruptly. With a tremendous leap, Phil Holmes hadwrenched free and flung himself backwards. She heard his yell:

"Now!"

 * * * * *

There was a sputter from the bottom of the outstretched borer; then, like the crack of a whip, came a bellow of awful sound. 

A thick cloud of dust reared up, and the ear-numbing thunder rolledthrough the cavern in great pulsing echoes. And then Sue Guinnessunderstood what the young man had been about. 

The disintegrators of James Quade's borer had sent a broad beam ofannihilation into the monster. His own machine had destroyed hisdestroyer--and given his intended victims their only chance to escapefrom the dread fate he had schemed for them. 

Sue could see no trace of the creature in its pyre of slow-swirlingdust. Caught squarely, its annihilation had been utter. And then, through the thunder that still echoed in her ear-drums, she heard ajoyful voice. 

"We got 'em!"

Through the dusty haze Phil appeared at her side. He flung his arms upexultantly, swept her off the ground, hugged her close. 

"We got 'em!" he cried again. "We're free--free to go up!"

Professor David Guinness crawled from the borer. His face, for thefirst time since the descent, wore a broad smile. Phil ran over tohim, slapped him on the back; and the older man said:

"You did it beautifully, Phil. " He turned to Sue. "He had to decoythem right in front of the disintegrators. It was--well, it wasmagnificent!"

"All credit to Sue: she was my inspiration!" Phil said, laughing. "Butnow, " he added, "let's see if we can fix those dead rocket-tubes. Ihave a patient up above--and, anyway, I'm not over-fond of thisplace!"

 * * * * *

The three had won through. They had blasted four miles down from thesurface of the earth. The brain of an elderly scientist, thequick-witted courage of a young engineer, had achieved the seeminglyimpossible--and against obstacles that could not have been predicted. Death had attended that achievement, as death often does accompanygreat forward steps; James Quade had gone to a death more hideous thanthat he devised for the others. But, in spite of the justice of it, amoment of silence fell on the three survivors as they came to the spotwhere his fate at last had caught up to him. 

But it was only a moment. It was relieved by Professor Guinness'spicking up the chunk of radium ore his former partner had hewn fromthe cavern's wall. He held it up for all to see, and smiled. 

"Here it is, " he said simply. 

Then he led the way into his earth-borer, and the little door closedquietly and firmly into place. 

For a few minutes slight tappings came from within, as if a wrench ora screwdriver were being used. Then the tappings stopped, and all wassilence. 

A choke, a starting cough, came from beneath the sphere. A torrent ofrushing sound burst out, and spears of orange flame spurted from thebottom and splashed up its sides, bathing it in fierce, brilliantlight. It stirred. Then, slowly and smoothly, the great ball of metalraised up. 

It hit the edge of the hole in the ceiling, and hung there, hesitating. Side-rockets flared, and the sphere angled over. Then itslid, roaring, through the hole. 

Swiftly the spots of orange from its rocket-tube exhausts died topin-points. There were now almost twenty of them. And soon thesepin-points wavered, and vanished utterly. 

Then there was only blackness in the hole that went up to the surface. Blackness in the hole, calm night on the desert above--and silence, asif the cavern were brooding on the puny figures and strange machinesthat had for the first time dared invade its solitude, in the realmsfour miles within the earth. .. . 

The Lake of Light

_By Jack Williamson_

[Illustration: _The monster emanated power, sinister, malevolentpower. _]

[Sidenote: In the frozen wastes at the bottom of the world twoexplorers find a strange pool of white fire--and have a strangeadventure. ]

The roar of the motor rang loud in the frosty air above a desert ofice. The sky above us was a deep purple-blue; the red sun hung like acrimson eye low in the north. Three thousand feet below, through ahazy blue mist of wind-whipped, frozen vapor, was the ruggedwilderness of black ice-peaks and blizzard-carved hummocks of snow--agrim, undulating waste, black and yellow, splotched with crystalwhite. The icy wind howled dismally through the struts. We were flyingabove the weird ice-mountains of the Enderby quadrant of Antarctica. 

That was a perilous flight, across the blizzard-whipped bottom of theworld. In all the years of polar exploration by air, since Byrd'smemorable flights, this area had never been crossed. The intrepidBritisher, Major Meriden, with the daring American aviatrix whom theworld had known as Mildred Cross before she married him, had flowninto it nineteen years before--and like many others they had neverreturned. 

Faintly, above the purring drone of the motor, I heard Ray Summers'shout. I drew my gaze from the desolate plateau of ice below andleaned forward. His lean, fur-hooded face was turned back toward me. Amittened hand was pointing, and thin lips moved in words that I didnot hear above the roar of the engine and the scream of the wind. 

I turned and looked out to the right, past the shimmering silver diskof the propeller. Under the blue haze of ice-crystals in the air, theice lay away in a vast undulating plain of black and yellow, brokenwith splotches of prismatic whiteness, lying away in frozen desolationto the rim of the cold violet sky. Rising against that sky I saw acurious thing. 

It was a mountain of fire!

Beyond the desert of ice, a great conical peak pointed straight intothe amethystine gloom of the polar heavens. It was brilliantly white, a finger of milky fire, a sharp cone of pure light. It shone withwhite radiance. It was brighter, far brighter, than is the sacred coneof Fujiyama in the vivid day of Japan. 

 * * * * *

For many minutes I stared in wonder at it. Far away it was; it lookedvery small. It was like a little heap of light poured from the hand ofa fire-god. What it might be, I could not imagine. At first sight, Iimagined it might be a volcano with streams of incandescent lavaflowing down the side. I knew that this continent of mystery boastedMt. Erebus and other active craters. But there was none of the smokeor lurid yellow flame which accompanies volcanic eruptions. 

I was still watching it, and wondering, when the catastrophe tookplace--the catastrophe which hurled us into a mad extravaganza ofamazing adventure. 

Our little two-place amphibian was flying smoothly, through airunusually good for this continent of storms. The twelve cylinders ofthe motor had been firing regularly since we took off from Byrd's oldstation at Little America fifteen hours before. We had crossed thepole in safety. It looked as if we might succeed in this attempt topenetrate the last white spot on the map. Then it Happened. 

A sudden crack of snapping metal rang out sharp as a pistol report. Abright blade of metal flashed past the wing-struts, to fall in aflashing arc. The motor broke abruptly into a mad, deep-voiced roar. Terrific vibration shook the ship, until I feared that it would go topieces. 

Ray Summers, with his usual quick efficiency, cut the throttle. Quickly the motor slowed to idling speed; the vibration stopped. Alast cough of the engine, and there was no sound save the shrillscreaming of the wind in the gloomy twilight of this unknown landbeyond the pole. 

"What in the devil!" I exclaimed. 

"The prop! See!" Ray pointed ahead. 

I looked, and the dreadful truth flashed upon me. The steel propellerwas gone, or half of it at least. One blade was broken off at a jaggedline just above the hub. 

 * * * * *

"The propeller! What made it break? I've never heard--"

"Search me!" Ray grinned. "The important thing is that it did. It wasall-metal, of course, tested and guaranteed. The guarantee isn't worthmuch here. A flaw in the forging, perhaps, that escaped detection. And this low temperature. Makes metal as brittle as glass. And thething may have been crystallized by the vibration. "

The plane was coming down in a shallow glide. I looked out at the grimexpanse of black ice-crags and glistening snow below us, and it wasfar from a comforting prospect. But I had a huge amount of confidencein Ray Summers. I have known him since the day he appeared, from hisfather's great Arizona ranch, to be a freshman in the School of Minesat El Paso, where I was then an instructor in geology. We have knockedabout queer corners of the world together for a good many years. Buthe is still but a great boy, with the bluff, simple manners of theWest. 

"Do you think we can land?" I asked. 

"Looks like we've got to, " he said, grimly. 

"And what after that?"

"How should I know? We have the sledge, tent, furs. Food, and fuel forthe primus to last a week. There's the rifle, but it must be athousand miles to anything to shoot. We can do our best. "

"We should have had an extra prop. "

"Of course. But it was so many pounds, when every pound counted. Andwho knew the thing would break?"

"We'll never get out on a week's provisions. "

"Not a shot! Too bad to disappoint Captain Harper. " Ray grinned wanly. "He ought to have the _Albatross_ around there by this time, waitingfor us. " The _Albatross_ was the ship which had left us at LittleAmerica a few months before, to steam around and pick us up at ourdestination beyond Enderby Land. "We're in the same boat with MajorMeriden and his wife--and all those others. Lost without a trace. "

"You've read Scott's diary--that he wrote after he visited the pole in1912--the one they found with the bodies?"

"Yes. Not altogether cheerful. But we won't be trying to get out. Nouse of that. " He looked at me suddenly, grinning again. "Say, Jim, whynot try for that shining mountain we saw? It looks queer enough to beinteresting. We ought to make it in a week. "

"I'm with you, " I said. 

 * * * * *

I did not speak again, for the jagged ice-peaks were coming rathernear. I held my breath as the little plane veered around a slenderblack spire and dropped toward a tiny scrap of smooth snow among theice-hummocks. I might have spared my anxiety. Under Ray's consumatelyskilful piloting, the skids struck the snow with hardly a shock. Weglided swiftly over the ice and came to rest just short of a yawningcrevasse. 

"Suppose, " said Ray, "that we spend the first night in the plane. Weare tired already. We can keep warm here, and sleep. We've plenty ofice to melt for water. Then we're off for the shining mountain. "

I agreed: Ray Summers is usually right. We got out the sledge, packedit, took our bearings, and made all preparations for a start to theluminous mountain, which was about a hundred miles away. Thethermometer stood at twenty below, but we were comfortable enough inour furs as we ate a scanty supper and went to sleep in the cabin ofthe plane. 

We started promptly the next morning, after draining the last of thehot chocolate from our vacuum bottles, which we left behind. We had alight but powerful sporting rifle, with telescopic sights, and severalhundred rounds of ammunition. Ray put them in the pack, though Iinsisted that we would never need them, unless a quick way out of ourpredicament. 

"No, Jim, " he said. "We take 'em along. We don't know what we're goingto find at the shining mountain. "

The air was bitterly cold as we set out: it was twenty-five below anda sharp wind was blowing. Only our toiling at the sledge kept us warm. We covered eighteen miles that day, and made a good camp in the leeof a bare stone ridge. 

That night there was a slight fall of snow. When we went on it wasnearly thirty-five degrees below zero. The layer of fresh snowconcealed irregularities in the ice, making our pulling very hard. After an exhausting day we had made hardly fifteen miles. 

 * * * * *

On the following day the sky was covered with gray clouds, and abitterly cold wind blew. We should have remained in the tent, but theshortage of food made it imperative that we keep moving. We feltimmensely better after a reckless, generous fill of hot pemmican stew;but the next morning my feet were so painful from frost-bite that Icould hardly get on my fur boots. 

Walking was very painful to me that day, but we made a good distance, having come to smoother ice. Ray was very kind in caring for me. Ibecame discouraged about going on at all: it was very painful, and Iknew there was no hope of getting out. I tried to get some of ourmorphine tablets, but Ray had them, and refused to be convinced thathe ought to go on without me. 

On the next march we came in sight of the luminous mountain, whichcheered me considerably. It was a curious thing, indeed. Astraight-sided cone of light it was, rather steeper than the averagevolcano. Its point was sharp, its sides smooth as if cut with amammoth plane. And it shone with a pure white light, with a steady andunchanging milky radiance. It rose out of the black and dull yellow ofthe ice wilderness like a white finger of hope. 

The next morning it was a little warmer. Ray had been caring for myfeet very attentively, but it took me nearly two hours to get on myfootgear. Again I tried to get him to leave me, but he refused. 

We arrived at the base of the shining mountain in three more marches. On the last night the fuel for the primus was all gone, having beenused up during the very cold weather, and we were unable to melt waterto drink. We munched the last of our pemmican dry. 

 * * * * *

A few minutes after we had started on the last morning, Ray stoppedsuddenly. 

"Look at that!" he cried. 

I saw what he had seen--the wreck of an airplane, the wings crumpledup and blackened with fire. We limped up to it. 

"A Harley biplane!" Ray exclaimed. "That is Major Meriden's ship! Andlook at that wing! It looks like it's been in an electric furnace!"

I examined the metal wing; saw that it had been blackened with heat. The metal was fused and twisted. 

"I've seen a good many wrecks, Jim. I've seen planes that burned asthey fell. But nothing like that. The fuselage and engines were noteven afire. Jim, something struck out from that shining mountain andbrought them down!"

"Are they--" I began. 

Ray was poking about in the snow in the cockpits. 

"No. Not here. Probably would have been better for them if they hadbeen killed in the plane. Quick and merciful. "

He examined the engines and propellers. 

"No. Seems to be nothing wrong. Something struck them down!"

Soon we went on. 

The shining mountain rose before us like a great cone of fire. It musthave been three thousand feet high, and about that in diameter at thebottom. Its walls were as smooth and straight as though turned frommilky rock crystal in a gigantic lathe. It shone with a steady, brilliantly white radiance. 

"That's no natural hill!" Ray grunted beside me as we limped on. 

We were less than a mile from the foot of the cone of fire. Soon weobserved another remarkable thing about it. It seemed that a straightband of silvery metal rose from the snow about its foot. 

"Has it a wall around it?" I exclaimed. 

"Evidently, " said Ray. "Looks as if it's built on a round metalplatform. But by whom? When? Why?"

 * * * * *

We approached the curious wall. It was of a white metal, apparentlyaluminum, or a silvery alloy of that metal. In places it wastwenty-five feet high, but more usually the snow and ice was bankedhigh against it. The smooth white wall of the gleaming mountain stoodseveral hundred yards back from the wall. 

"Let's have a look over it. " Ray suggested. "We can get up on thathummock, against it. You know, this place must have been built bymen!"

We clambered up over the ice, as he suggested, until our heads cameabove the top of the wall. 

"A lake of fire!" cried Ray. 

Indeed, a lake of liquid fire lay before us. The white aluminum wallwas hardly a foot thick. It formed a great circular tank, nearly amile across, with the cone of white fire rising in the center. And thetank was filled, to within a foot of the top, with shimmeringlybrilliant white fluid, bright and luminous as the cone--liquid light!

Ray dipped a hand into it. The hand came up with fingers of fire, radiant, gleaming, with shining drops falling from them. With aspasmodic effort, he flung off the luminous drops, rubbed his hand onhis garments, and got it back into its fur mitten. 

"Gee, it's cold!" he muttered. "Freeze the horns off a brassbilly-goat!"

"Cold light!" I exclaimed. "What wouldn't a bottle of that stuff beworth to a chemist back in the States!"

"That cone must be a factory to make the stuff. " Ray suggested, hugging his hand. "They might pump the liquid up to the top, and thenlet it trickle down over the sides: that would explain why the cone isso bright. The stuff might absorb sunlight, like barium sulphide. Andthere could be chemical action with the air, under the actinic rays. "

"Well, if somebody's making cold light, where does he use it?"

"I'd like to find out, and strike him for a hot meal, " Ray said, grinning. "It's too cold to live on top of the ground around here. They must run it down in a cave. "

"Then let's find the hole. "

"You know it's possible we won't be welcome. This mountain of lightmay be connected with the vanishing of all the aviators. We'd bettertake along the rifle. "

 * * * * *

We set off around just outside the white metal wall. The snow and icewas irregularly banked against it, but the wall itself was smooth andunbroken. We had limped along for some two miles, or more than halfwayaround the amazing lake of light. I had begun to doubt that we wouldfind anything. 

Then we came to a square metal tower, ten feet on a side, that rosejust outside the silvery wall, to a level with its top. The ice waslow here; the tower rose twenty feet above its unequal surface. Wefound metal flanges riveted to its side, like the steps of a ladder. They were most inconveniently placed, nearly four feet apart; but wewere able to climb them, and to look down the shaft. 

It was a straight-sided pit, evidently some hundreds of feet deep. Wecould see a tiny square of light at the bottom, very far away. Theflanges ran down the side forming the rungs of a ladder that gaveaccess to whatever lay at the bottom. 

Without hesitation, Ray climbed over the side and started down. Ifollowed him, feeling a great relief in getting out of the freezingwind. Ray had the rifle and ammunition strapped to his back, alongwith a few other articles; and I had a small pack. We had abandonedthe sledge, with the useless stove and the most of our instruments. Our food was all gone. 

The metal flanges were fully four feet apart, and it was not easy toscramble down from one to another; certainly not easy for one who wascold, hungry, thirsty, worn out with a week of exhausting marches, andsuffering the torture of frozen feet. 

"You know, this thing was not built by men, " Ray observed. 

"Not built by men? What do you mean?"

"Men would have put the steps closer together. Jim, I'm afraid we areup against something--well--that we aren't used to. "

"If men didn't build this, what did?" I was astounded. 

"Search me! This continent has been cut off from the rest of the worldfor geologic ages. Such life as has been found here is not common tothe rest of the earth. It is not impossible that some form of life, isolated here, has developed intelligence and acquired the power toerect that cone of light--and to burn the wing off a metal airplane. "

My thoughts whirled madly as we clambered down the shaft. 

 * * * * *

It must have taken us an hour to reach the bottom. I did not count thesteps, but it must have been at least a thousand feet. The air grewrapidly warmer as we descended. We both took off most of our heavy furgarments, and left them hanging on the rungs. 

I was rather nervous. I felt the nearness of an intelligent, hostilepower. I had a great fear that the owners of those steps would usethem to find us, and then crush us ruthlessly as they had brought downMeriden's plane. 

The little square of white light below grew larger. Finally I saw Rayswing off and stand on his feet in a flood of white radiance below me. The air was warm, moist, laden with a subtle unfamiliar fragrance thatsuggested growing things. Then I stood beside Ray. 

We stood on the bare stone floor of a huge cavern. It must have beenof volcanic origin. The walls glistened with the sparkling smoothnessof volcanic glass. It was a huge space. The black roof was a hundredfeet high, or more; the cave was some hundreds of feet wide. And itsloped away from us into dim distance as though leading into hugercavities below. 

The light that shone upon us came from an amazing thing--a fall ofliquid fire. From the roof plunged a sheer torrent of whitebrilliantly luminous fluid, falling a hundred feet into a shimmeringpool of moon-flame. Shining opalescent mists swirled about it, and theceaseless roar of it filled the cave with sound. It seemed that astream of the phosphorescent stuff ran off down the cave from thepool, to light the lower caverns. 

"Very clever!" said Ray. "They make the stuff up there at the cone andrun it in here to see by. "

"This warm air feels mighty good, " I remarked, pulling off anothergarment. 

Ray sniffed the air. "A curious odor. Smells like something growing. Where anything is growing there ought to be something to eat. Let'ssee what we can find. "

Only black obsidian covered the floor about us. Cautiously we skirtedthe overflowing pool of white fire, and followed down the stream of itthat flowed toward the inner cavern. We had gone but a few hundredyards when suddenly Ray stopped me with a hand on my arm. 

"Lie flat!" he hissed. "Quick!"

He dived behind a huge mass of fire-born granite. I flung myself downbeside him. 

"Something is coming up the trail by the shining river. And it isn't aman! It's between us and the light; we should be able to see it. "

 * * * * *

Soon I heard a curious scraping sound, and a little tinkle of metal. Icaught a whiff of a powerful odor--a strange, fishy odor--so strongthat it almost knocked me down. 

The thing that made the scraping and the tinkle and the smell cameinto view. The sight of it sickened me with horror. 

It was far larger than a man; its body was heavy as a horse's, butnearer the ground. In form it suggested a huge crab, though it was notvery much like any crustacean I had ever seen. It was mostly red incolor, and covered with a huge scarlet shell. It had five pairs oflimbs. The two forward pairs had pinchers, seemingly used as hands; itscraped along on the other three pairs. Yard-long antennae, slenderand luminously green, wavered above a grotesque head. The many facetsof compound eyes stood on the end of foot-long stalks. 

The amazing crab-thing wore a metal harness. Bands of silvery aluminumwere fastened about its shell, with little cases of white metaldangling to them. In one of its uplifted claws it carried what seemedto be an aluminum bar, two feet long and an inch thick. 

It scraped lumberingly past, between us and the racing stream of whitefire. It passed less than a dozen feet from us. The curious fishysmell of it was overpowering, disgusting. 

Sweat of horror chilled my limbs. The monster emanated power, sinister, malevolent power, power intelligent, alien and hostile toman. 

I trembled with the fear that it would see us, but it scrambledgrotesquely on. When it was twenty yards past, Ray picked up a blockof black lava that lay beneath his hand and hurled it silently andswiftly. It crashed splinteringly on the rocks far beyond thecreature, on the other side of the stream of light. 

In fascination I watched the monster as it paused as if astonished. The glittering compound eyes twisted about on their stalks, and thelong shining green tentacles wavered questioningly. Then the knobbedlimbs snapped the white metal tube to a level position. A metallicclick came from it. 

And a ray of red light, vivid and intense, burst from the tube. Itflashed across the river of fire. With a dull, thudding burst itstruck the rocks where the stone had fallen. It must have been a rayof concentrated heat. Rocks beneath it flashed into suddenincandescence, splintered and cracked, flowed in molten streams. 

 * * * * *

In a moment the intensely brilliant ruby ray flashed off. The rocks inthe circle where it had struck faded to a dull red and then toblackness, still cracking and crumbling. 

To my intense relief, the monstrous crab lumbered on. 

"That, " Ray whispered, "is what got Major Meriden's airplane wing. "

When we could hear its scraping progress no longer, we climbed up frombehind our boulder and continued cautiously down the cavern, besidethe rushing luminous river. In half a mile we came to a bend. Roundingit, we gazed upon a remarkable sight. 

We looked into a huge cavity in the heart of the earth. A vastunderground plain lay before us, with the black lava of the roofarching above it. It must have been miles across, though we had no wayto measure it, and it stretched down into dim hazy distance. Its levelwas hundreds of feet below us. 

At our feet the glistening river of fire plunged down again in amagnificent flaming fall. Below, its luminous liquid was spread out inrivers and lakes and canals, over all the vast plain. The channels ranthrough an amazing jungle. It was a forest of fungus, of mushroomthings with great fleshy stalks and spreading circular tops. But theywere not the sickly white and yellow of ordinary mushrooms, but wereof brilliant colors, bright green, flaming scarlet, gold andpurple-blue. Huge brilliant yellow stalks, fringed with crimson andblack, lifted mauve tops thirty feet or more. It was a veritableforest of flame-bright fungus. 

In the center of this weirdly forested subterranean plain was a greatlake, filled, not with the flaming liquid, but with dark crystalwater. And on the bottom of that lake, clearly visible from theelevation upon which we stood, was a city!

 * * * * *

A city below the water! The buildings were upright cylinders in groupsof two or three, of dozens, even of hundreds. For miles, the bottom ofthe great lake was covered with them. They were all of crystal, azure-blue, brilliant as cylinders turned from immense sapphires. Theywere vividly visible beneath the transparent water. Not one of thembroke the surface. 

Through the clear black water we saw moving hundreds, thousands of thegiant crabs. The crawled over the hard, pebbled bottom of the lake, orswam between the crystal cylinders of the city. They were huge as theone we had seen, with red shells, great ominous looking stalked eyes, luminous green tentacular antennae and knobbed claws on forelimbs. 

"Looks as if we've run on something to write home about, " Ray mutteredin amazement. 

"A whole city of them! A whole world! No wonder they could build thatcone-mountain for a lighting plant!"

"When they got to knocking down airplanes with that heat-ray, " hespeculated, "they were probably surprised to find that other animalshad developed intelligence. "

"Do you suppose those mushroom things are good to eat?"

"We can try and see--if the crabs don't get us first with a heat-ray. I'm hungry enough to try anything!"

Again we cautiously advanced. The river of light fell over a sheerprecipice, but we found a metal ladder spiked to the rock, with rungsas inconveniently far apart as those in the shaft. It was five hundredfeet, I suppose, to the bottom; it took us many minutes to descend. 

At last we stepped off in a little rocky clearing. The forest ofbrilliant mushrooms rose about us, great fleshy stalks of gold andgraceful fringes of black and scarlet about them, with flattened headsof purple. 

We started eagerly across toward the fungoid forest. I had visions oftearing off great pieces of soft, golden flesh and filling my achingstomach with it. 

We were stopped by a sharp, poignantly eager human cry. 

A human being, a girl, darted from among the mushroom stalks and ranacross to us. Sobbing out great incoherent cries, she dropped at Ray'sfeet, wrapped her arms about his knees and clung to him, while herslender body was wracked with sobbing cries. 

 * * * * *

My first impression was that she was very beautiful--and thatimpression I was never called upon to revise. About her lithe youngbody she had the merest scrap of some curious green fabric--ample inthe warm air of the great cavern. Luxuriant brown hair fell looseabout her white shoulders. She was not quite twenty years old, Isupposed; her body was superbly formed, with the graceful curves andthe free, smooth movements of a wild thing. 

Ray stood motionless for a moment, thunder-struck as I was, while thesobbing girl clung to his knees. Then the astonishment on his facegave place to pity. 

"Poor kid!" he murmured. 

He bent, took her tenderly by the shoulder, helped her to her feet. 

Her beauty burst upon us like a great light. Smoothly white, her skinwas, perfect. Wide blue eyes, now appealing, even piteous, lookedfrom beneath a wealth of golden brown hair. White teeth, straight andeven, flashed behind the natural crimson of her lips. 

She stood staring at Ray, in a sort of enchantment of wonder. An eagerlight of incredible joy flamed in her amazing eyes; red lips wereparted in an unconscious smile of joy. She looked like the troubledprincess in the fairy tale, when the prince of her dreams appeared inthe flesh. 

"God, but you're beautiful!" Ray's words slipped out as if he werehardly conscious of them. He flushed quickly, stepped back a little. 

The girl's lips opened. She voiced a curious cry. It was deep toned, pealing with a wonderful timbre. A happy burst of sound, like a babymakes. But strong, ringing, musically golden. And pathetically eager, pitifully glad, so that it brought tears to my eyes, cynical old manthat I am. 

I saw Ray wipe his eyes. 

"Can you talk?" Ray put the question in a clear, deliberate voice, with great kindness ringing in it. 

"Talk?" The chiming, golden voice was slow, uncertain. "Talk? Yes. Italked--with mother. But for long--I have had no need to talk. "

"Where is your mother?" Ray's voice was gentle. 

"She is gone. She was here when I was little. " The clear, silveryvoice was more certain now. "Once, when I was almost as big asshe--she was still. She was cold. She did not move when I called her. The Things took her away. She was dead. She told me that sometime shewould be dead. "

 * * * * *

Bright tears came in the wide blue eyes, trickled down over theperfect face. A pathetic catch was in the deliberate, halting voice. Iturned away, and Ray put a handkerchief to his face. 

"What is your name? Who are you?" Ray spoke kindly. 

"I am Mildred. Mildred Meriden. "

"Meriden!" Ray turned to me. "I bet this is a daughter of the majorand his wife!"

"Father was the major, " the girl said slowly. "He and mother came in amachine that flew, from a far land. The Things burned the machine withthe red fire. They came here and the Things kept them. They mademother sing over the water. They killed father. I never saw him. "

"I know, " Ray, said gently. "We came from the same land. We saw yourfather's machine above. "

"You came from outside! And you are going back? Oh, take me with you!Take me!" Piteous pleading was in her voice. "It is so--lonely sincethe Things took Mother away. Mother told me that sometime men wouldcome, and take me away to see the people and the outside that she toldme of. Oh, please take me!"

"Don't worry! You go along whenever we leave--if we can get out. "

"Oh, I am so glad! You are very good!"

Impulsively, she threw her arms around Ray's neck. Gently, hedisengaged himself, flushing a little. I noticed, however, that he didnot seem particularly displeased. 

"But can we get out?"

"Mother and I tried. We could never get out. The Things watch. Theymake me come to the water to sing, when the great bell rings. "

"Are these things goods to eat?" I motioned to the brilliant fungalforest. I had begun to fear that Ray would never get to this veryimportant topic. 

Blue eyes regarded me. "Eat? Oh, you are hungry! Come! I have food. "

 * * * * *

Like a child, she grasped Ray's hand, pulled him toward the mushroomjungle. I followed, and we slipped in between the brilliantly golden, fleshy stalks. They rose to the tangle of bright feathery fringesabove, huge and substantial as the trunks of trees. 

In a few minutes we came to a wide, shallow canal, metal-walled, through which a slow current of the opalescent, luminous liquid wasflowing. We crossed this on a narrow metal foot-bridge, and went onthrough the brilliant forest. 

Suddenly we emerged into a little clearing, with the black waters ofthe great lake visible beyond it, across a quarter-mile of rockybeach. In the middle of the open space, rose three straight cylindersof azure crystal, side by side. Each must have been twenty feet indiameter, and forty high. They shone with a clear blue light, like thecylindrical buildings we had seen in the strange city of thecrab-creatures below the great lake. 

Mildred Meriden, the strangely beautiful girl who had known no otherworld than this amazing cavern empire where giant crabs reigned, beckoned us with unconscious queenly grace to enter the arched door inthe blue sapphire wall of her remarkable abode of clustered cylinders. 

The crystal of the walls seemed luminous, the lofty cylinders werefilled with a liquid, azure radiance. The high round room we enteredwas strangely furnished. There was a silken couch, a bathing pool ofblue crystal filled with sparkling water, a curious chest of drawersmade of bright aluminum with a mirror of polished crystal, its topbearing odd combs and other articles. The furnishings must have beendone by the giant crabs, under human direction. 

Mildred led us quickly across the room, through an arched opening intoanother. A round aluminum table stood in the center of the room, withtwo curious metal chairs beside it. Odd metal cabinets stood about theshining blue walls. The girl made us sit down, and put dishes beforeus. 

She gave us each a bowl of thick, sweetish soup, darkly red; placedbefore us a dish piled high with little circular cakes, crisp andbrown, which had a tantalizing fragrance; poured for each of us atransparent crystal goblet full of clear amber drink. 

We fell to with enthusiasm and abandon. 

"The Things made this place for father, " the girl told us, as shewatched us eat, attentively replenishing the red soup in the greatblue crystal bowl, or the little cakes, or the fragrant amber drink. "They would give him anything he wanted. But he tried to go away withmother, and they killed him. "

"We must get out of here, " Ray declared when at last we had done. "Wemust get together a lot of food, and enough clothing for all of us. Weought to be able to make it to the edge of the ice-pack. We've got togive these crab-things the slip; we ought to get off before they knowwe're here--unless they already do. "

Mildred was eagerly attentive: she was so unused to human speech thatit took the best of her efforts to understand us, though it seems thather mother had given her quite a wide education. She promised thatthere would be no difficulty about the food. 

"Mother taught me how to fix food, " she said. "She always said thatsometime men would come, with weapons of fire and great noise thatwould tear and kill the Things. I have food ready, in bags--more thanwe can carry. I have, too, the furs that mother and father wore. "

She ran into another room and returned with a great pile of furgarments, which we examined and found to be in good condition. 

"Now is the time, " Ray said. "I'd like to know more about the bigcrabs, but there'll be a chance for that, later. Mildred is theimportant thing, now. We must get her out. Then we can tell the worldabout this place and come back with a bigger expedition. "

"You think we can reach the coast?"

"I think so. It might be hard on Mildred. But we will have food; wecan probably find fuel for the stove in Meriden's plane, if the tankswere well sealed. And Captain Harper should have a relief party landedand sent to meet us. We should have only three or four hundred milesto go alone. "

"Three or four hundred miles, over country like we've been crossing inthe last week, with a girl! Ray, we'd never make it!"

"It's the only chance. "

I said nothing more. I knew that I could stand no such march on myfrozen feet, but I resolved to say nothing about it. I would help themas far as I could, and then walk out of camp some night. Men have donejust that. 

Mildred brought out sacks of the little cakes, and of a red powderthat seemed to be the dried and ground flesh of a crimson mushroom. Wemade a pack for each of us, as heavy as we could carry. 

 * * * * *

Just before we were ready to start Ray took off my footgear andtreated my feet from his medicine kit. I had feared gangrene, but heassured me that there was no danger if they were well cared for. Walking was still exquisitely painful to me as we slipped out throughthe arched door and into the fungoid forest beyond the three bluecylinders. 

As rapidly and silently as possible we hastened through the brilliantfungous forest, across the river of opalescent liquid, to the foot ofthe fall of fire. A weird and splendid sight was that sheer arc ofshimmering white flame, roaring into a pool of opal light, andsurrounded with a mist of moon-flame. 

We reached the foot of the metal ladder spiked to the rocks beside thefall and started up immediately. The going was not easy. The packs offood, heavy enough when we were on level ground, were difficult indeedto lift when one was scrambling up over rungs four feet apart. 

Ray climbed ahead, with a piece of rope fastened from his waist toMildred's, so that he could help her if she slipped. I was below thegirl. We were halfway up the rock when suddenly a glare of red lightshone upon me, casting my shadow sharply on the cliff. I looked upand saw the broad, intensely red beam of a heat-ray like that we hadseen the giant crab use. 

The ray came, evidently, from the shore of the great lake with itssubmerged city of blue cylinders. It fell upon the face of the cliffjust above us. Quickly the ladder was heated to cherry red. The faceof the rock grew incandescent, cracked. Hot sparks rained down uponus. 

Slowly the ray moved down, toward us. 

"Guess we'd better call it off, " said Ray. "They have the advantageright now. Better get to climbing down, Jim. This ladder is going tobe burning my hands pretty soon. "

 * * * * *

I climbed down. Mildred and Ray scrambled down behind me. 

The ray followed us, keeping the metal at a cherry red just aboveRay's hands. 

I looked down and saw a dozen of the giant crabs lumbering up out ofthe fungoid jungle from the direction of the great lake. Hideousthings they were, with staring, stalked eyes, shining green antennae, polished red shells, claw-armed limbs. Like the one that had passed usin the upper cavern, they wore glistening white metal accoutrements. 

We clambered down, with the red ray following. 

I dropped to the ground among them, wet with the sweat of horror. Ireeled in nausea from the intolerable odor of the crab-things; it wasindescribable, overpowering. 

Curious rasping stridulations came from them, sounds which seemed toserve as means of communication, and which Mildred evidentlyunderstood. 

"They say that you will not be harmed, but that you must not go out, "she called down. 

I was seized by the pincher-like claws, held writhing in anunbreakable grasp, while the glittering eyes twisted about, looked atme, and the shining green tentacles wavered questioningly over me. Mystomach revolted at the horrible odor. 

The crabs tore off my pack, even my clothing. Ray was similarlytreated as soon as he reached the ground. Though they took Mildred'spack, they treated her with a curious respect. 

In a few minutes they released us. They had taken the packs, the rifleand ammunition, our medicine kit and the few instruments we hadbrought with us down the shaft, even our clothing. They turned usloose stark naked. Ray's face and neck went beet-red when he sawMildred standing by him. 

The rasping sound came from one of them again. 

"It says you may stay with me, " Mildred said. "They will not harm youunless you try again to get away. If you do, you die--as father did. They will keep what they took from you. "

 * * * * *

Several of the creatures went scraping off, carrying the articles theyhad taken from us either in their claws or in the metal cases theywore. Several waited, staring at us with the stalked compound eyes, and waving the green antennae as if they were organs of some specialsense. 

Two of the creatures waited at the foot of the metal ladder, holdingthe long slender white tubes of the heat-ray in their claws. 

"They say we can go now, " Mildred said. 

She led the way toward the edge of the brilliant jungle. She seemed tobe without false modesty, for I saw her glancing with evidentadmiration at Ray's lithe and powerful white-skinned figure. Wefollowed her into the giant mushrooms, glad to escape the overpoweringstench of the crabs. 

In a few minutes we arrived again at the strange building of the threeblue cylinders. Mildred, noticing our discomfort, produced for each ofus a piece of white silken fabric with which we draped ourselves. 

She had noticed my difficulty in walking on bare feet. She had mebathe them, then dressed them with a soothing yellow oil, and bandagedthem skilfully. 

"Anyhow, " she said later, "it is good to have both of you here withme. I am sorry indeed for you that you may never see your countryagain. But it is good fortune for me. I was so lonely. "

"These damned crabs don't know me!" Ray Summers muttered. "They thinkI'll play around like a pet kitten, for the rest of my life! They'llget their eyes opened. We'll spend the winter on Palm Beach yet!"

"It seems to me that we're rather outnumbered. " I said. "And it'srather more pleasant in here than outside. "

"I'm going to get that rifle, " Ray declared, "and give these big crabsa little respect for humanity!"

"Let's rest up a while first, anyhow, " I urged. 

 * * * * *

Presently Mildred noticed how tired we were. She went into the thirdof the connected cylinders of blue crystal, was busy a few minutes andcalled us to the couches she had prepared there. 

"You may sleep, " she told us. "The Things never come here. And theysaid they would not harm you, if you did not try to go out. "

We lay down on the silken beds. In a few minutes I was sleep. I awoketo feel a curious unease, a sense of impending catastrophe. Ray wasbending over me, his face drawn with anxiety. 

"Something's happened!" he whispered. "She's gone!"

I sat up, staring into the liquid blue vastness of the tall cylinderabove us. 

"Listen! What's that?"

A deep bell-note sounded out, brazen, clanging. Sonorous, throbbing, mighty, it rang through the cylindered rooms. Slowly it died; faded tosilence with a last ringing pulse. Tense minutes of silence passed. Again it boomed out, throbbed, and died. After more long minutes therewas yet a third. 

"Outside, somewhere!"

Ray started; ran to the arched door. We looked out upon the denseforest of gold and crimson mushrooms that grew below the black cavernroof. Before us, across a few hundred yards of bare rocky beach, wasthe edge of the crystal lake with the city of blue cylinders upon itsfloor. 

"God! What's that?" Ray gripped my arm crushingly. 

A thin wailing scream came across the beach from the black lake. Apiteous sound it was, plaintive, pleading. Higher and higher it rose, until it was a piercing silver note. Clear and sweet it was, butinexpressibly lonely, sorrowful, mournful. It sank slowly, died away. Again it rose and fell, and again. 

"It's Mildred!" I gasped. "Didn't she say something about singing tothe crabs?"

"Yes! I think she did. Well, if that's singing, it's wonderful! Had mefeeling like I'd never see another human. But listen--"

 * * * * *

Liquid, trilling notes were rising, pealing out in a queer, swiftrhythm. It was happy, joyous, carefree. The rippling golden tones mademe think of the caroling of birds on a spring morning. Swiftly it roseand fell, pure and clear as the tinkle of a mountain brook. 

Mildred sang not words but notes of pure music. 

The gay song died. 

And the strong clear voice rose again with the force and challenge ofbugle notes, with a swift marching time beating through it. Itthrobbed to a rhythm strange to me. It set my feet tingling to move;it set my heart to pulsing faster. It was a challenge to action, tobattle. 

Unconsciously obeying the suggestion of the song, Ray whispered, "Let's get over and see what's going on. "

We leaped through the door and ran across four hundred yards of rockybeach to the edge of the lake. We stepped on a granite bluff a fewyards above the water, to gaze upon as strange a sight as men eversaw. 

The black water lay before us, a transparent crystal sheet. On itsrocky bottom we could see the innumerable clusters of upright azurecylinders that were the city of the crabs. The blue cylinders seemedto bend and waver in the water. 

A hundred yards away from us, over the dark water, was Mildred. Shestood on a slender azure cylinder that came just to the surface. Tall, slender, superbly graceful, with only the scant bodice of green silkenstuff about her, she looked like the statue of a goddess in whitemarble. Her head was thrown up, golden-brown hair fell behind hershoulders, and the pure notes of her song rang over the water. 

Beyond her, all about her, were thousands upon thousands of the giantcrabs, swimming at the surface of the water. Their green antenna roseabove the water, a curious forest of luminous tentacles, flexing, wavering. Green coils moved and swung in time to the strange rhythm ofher song. 

The last note died. Her white arms fell in a gesture of finality. Thethousands of twisting green antennae vanished below the water, and thegiant red crabs swam swiftly back to the tall blue cylinders of theirsubmerged city. 

 * * * * *

The white goddess turned and saw us. 

Her voice rang out in a golden shout of welcome. With a clean dive sheslipped into the water and came swimming swiftly toward us. Her slimwhite body glided through the crystal water as smoothly as a fish. Reaching the shore she sprang to her feet and ran to meet Ray. 

"The Things come together when the giant bell rings, to listen to mysong, " she said. "They like my singing, as they liked mother's. Butfor that, they would not let us live. That is the reason they wouldnot let us go. "

"I like your singing, too, " Ray informed her. "Though at first youmade me cry. It was so lonely. "

"The song was lonely because I have been lonely. Did you hear the gladsong I sang because you have come?"

"Sure! Great stuff! Made me feel like a kid at Christmas!"

"Come, " she said. "We will eat. "

Like a child, she took Ray's hand again, smiling naively up at him asshe led the way toward the three sapphire cylinders. 

Back in the blue-vaulted dining room, Ray made Mildred sit with me atthe little metal table while he served the little brown cakes and thedark-red soup and the fragrant amber drink. Mildred got up and broughta great metal bowl filled with tiny purple fruits that had adelicious, piquant tang. 

Ray was deeply thoughtful as he ate. Suddenly he sat back and criedout:

"I've got it!"

"Got what?" I demanded. 

"I want that rifle! Mildred can find out where it is. Then, when shesings, the crabs will all come. I'll get the gun, while she issinging, and hide it. Then when it comes time to get out, she willsing while you and I are getting our packs up the cliff. I can coverthem with the rifle while she gets up to us. "

"Looks good enough, " I agreed, "provided they all come to hear thesinging. "

 * * * * *

He explained the plan at greater length to the girl. She assured himthat the crabs all come when the bell-notes sound. She thought thatshe could make them return her furs, and find out where they had putthe gun. 

My feet were much better than they had been, and Mildred dressed themagain with the yellow oil. Ray examined them, said that I should beable to walk as well as ever in a few days. 

Considerable time went by. Since the crabs had taken our watches, wehad no very accurate way of counting days; but I think we slept abouta dozen times. Ray and Mildred spent a good deal of time together, andseemed not altogether to hate each other. By the end of the time myfeet were quite well; I did not even lose a toe. 

We went over our plans for escape in great detail. The crabs hadconfiscated our clothing. Mildred managed to secure the return of herfurs, and, incidentally, while she was about it, learned where therifle was. 

Fortunately, perhaps realizing that it would be ruined by water, thecrabs had not taken it to their submerged city. Being amphibious, theylived above water as easily as below, and much of their industrialequipment was above the surface. The great pumps which lifted thewhite phosphorescent liquid from the canals back to the cone above theground were located beyond the great lake. I did not see the place, but Ray tells me that they had great engines and a wealth of strangeand complex machinery there. It was at these pumps that they had leftour rifle and instruments, as Mildred found when she was recoveringher furs. 

They had taken our food, and we prepared as much more as we couldcarry, arranged sacks for it, and made quilted garments for ourselves. 

 * * * * *

Then the three brazen notes clanged out, and Mildred ran across thebeach and swam out to the blue cylinder to sing. Ray slipped hurriedlyaway, while the green forest of antennae was still growing up from thewater about the girl. 

I waited above the beach, enchanted by the haunting, wordless melodyof the gongs. It seemed that only a few minutes had passed, though itmay have been an hour or more, when Ray was by my side again. Heflourished the rifle. 

"I've got it! In good shape, too. Hasn't even been fired, though itlooks like they have opened a box of cartridges, and cut open one ortwo. Maybe they didn't understand the outfit--or it may be such aprimitive weapon that they aren't interested in it. "

We hurried up to the building of blue cylinders and carefully hid thegun and ammunition, as well as a sun compass, a pair of prismbinoculars, and a few other articles Ray had recovered. 

In a few minutes Mildred, having seen Ray's return, finished her songand ran up to join us. We arranged our packs, and waited the next callof the throbbing brazen gong to make the attempt for freedom. 

We slept twice again before the clang of the great gong. Ray andMildred were always together; I could not see that they were at allimpatient. 

The bell note came, the awful brazen vibration of it ringing on theblack cavern roof. It came when we were eating, in the liquidturquoise radiance of the lofty cylinder. We sprang out. Ray gave hislast directions to Mildred. 

"Give us time to get to the top of the cliff by the shining fall. Thenswim ashore and run. They may not notice. And if they do, we give 'ema taste of lead!"

I was not very much surprised when he took the girl in his arms andput a burning kiss on her red lips. She gasped, but her strugglessubsided very quickly; she clung to him as he freed her. 

She paused a moment in the door, before she ran down across the beach. A radiant light of joy was burning in her great blue eyes, even thoughtears were glistening there. 

 * * * * *

Ray and I waited, to give time for the giant crabs that guarded theladder to get away. In about ten more minutes the second brazen gongsounded, and presently the third. We gathered up the heavy packs offood. Ray took the rifle and I the binoculars, and we slipped out intothe brilliant mushroom forest. 

I stepped confidently out of the jungle into the clearing below thesplendid opalescent fall of fire--and threw myself backward intrembling panic. A flaming crimson ray cut hissing into the toweringmushrooms above my head. 

Mildred's confidence that the crabs would all gather at the ringing ofthe gong had been mistaken. The two guards had been waiting at thefoot of the ladder, their flaming heat-rays ready for use. 

As I dived back into the jungle, I heard two quick reports of therifle. I scrambled awkwardly to my feet, beneath the heavy pack. Raystood alert beside me, the smoking rifle in his hand. The giant crabshad collapsed by the foot of the ladder, in grotesque and hideousmetal-bound heaps of red shell and twisted limb. Blood was oozing froma ragged hole in the head of each. 

"Glad they were here, " Ray muttered. "I wanted to try the gun out on'em. They're soft enough beneath the shell; the bullet tears 'em upinside. Let's get a move on!"

He sprang past the revolting carcasses. I followed, holding my noseagainst their nauseating, charnel-house odor. We scrambled up themetal ladder. 

As we climbed, I could hear the haunting melody of Mildred's wordlesssong coming faint across the distance. Once I glanced back for amoment, and glimpsed her tiny white figure above the black water, withthe thousands of green antennae rising in a luminous forest about her. 

We reached the top of the cliff, where the opalescent river plungeddown in the flaming fall. Ray chose convenient boulders for shelterand quickly we flung ourselves flat. Ray replaced the fired cartridgesin the rifle and leveled it across the rock before him. I unslung thebinoculars and focussed them. 

"Watch 'em close, " Ray muttered. "And tell me when to shoot. "

 * * * * *

The black lake lay below us, with the weird city of sapphire cylinderson its floor. I got the glasses upon Mildred's white form. Soon shedived from the turquoise pedestal, swam swiftly ashore and vanished inthe vivid fungous jungle. The wavering green antennae vanished belowthe water; I watched the crabs swimming away. Some of them climbed outof the water and lumbered off in various directions. 

In fifteen minutes the slender white form of Mildred appeared at thefoot of the ladder. She sprang over the dead crabs and scramblednimbly up. Soon she was halfway up the face of the cliff, and therehad been no sign of discovery. My hopes ran high. 

I was sweeping the whole plain with the binoculars, while Ray peeredthrough the telescopic sights of the rifle. Suddenly I saw a giantcrab pause as he lumbered along the edge of the black lake. He roseupright; his shining green antennae wavered. Then I saw him reachingwith a knobbed claw for a slender silver tube slung to his harness. 

"Quick! The one by the lake! To the right of that canal!"

I pointed quickly. Ray swung his gun about, aimed. A broad red beamflashed from the tube the thing carried, and fell upon the cliff. Thereport of Ray's rifle rang thunderously in my ears. The red ray wassnapped off abruptly, and the giant crab rolled over into the blackwater of the lake. Half a dozen of the huge crabs were in sight. Theyall took alarm, probably having seen the flash of the red ray. Theyraised grotesque heads, twisted stalked eyes and waved green antennae. Some of them began to raise the metal tubes of the heat-ray. 

"Let's get all there are in sight!" Ray muttered. 

He began firing regularly, with deliberate precision. A few times hehad to take two shots, but ordinarily one was enough to bring down agiant crab in a writhing red mass. Three times a red ray flashed out, once at the girl clambering up the ladder, twice at our position abovethe precipice. But the intense color of the ray announced its source, and Ray stopped each before it could be focussed to do damage. 

I looked over at Mildred and saw that she was still climbing bravely, a little over a hundred feet below. 

 * * * * *

Then the great red crabs began to climb out of the water, heat-raytubes grasped in their claws. Ray fired as fast as he could load andaim. Still he shot with deliberate care, and almost every shot waseffective. 

Intense, ruby-red rays flashed up from the lake shore. Twice, one ofthem beat scorchingly upon us for a moment. Once a rock beside us wasfused and cracked with the heat. But Ray fired rapidly, and the rayswinked out as fast as they were born. 

He was powder-stained, black and grimy. The heat-ray had singed hisclothing. He was dripping perspiration. The gun was so hot that hecould hardly handle it. But still the angry bark of the rifle rangout, almost with a deliberate rhythm. Ray was a fine shot in his youthon his father's Arizona ranch, but his best shooting, I think, wasdone from above that cascade of liquid fire, at the hordes of monsterscarlet crabs. 

Mildred scrambled over the edge, unharmed. Her breast was heaving, buther face was bright with joy. 

"You are wonderful!" she gasped to Ray. 

We seized the packs and beat a hurried retreat. A crimson forest ofthe heat-rays flashed up behind us, and flamed upon the black wallsand roof of the cavern until glistening lava became incandescent, cracked and fused. 

We were below the line of the rays. Quickly we made the bend in thecavern and followed at a halting run up the path beside the shimmeringriver of opalescent light. Before us the torrent of fire fell in amagnificent flaming arc from the roof. 

We rounded the pool of lambent milk of flame, passed the roaringtorrent of coruscating liquid radiance and reached the ladder in thesquare, metal shaft. "If we can get to the top before they can get uphere, we're safe, " Ray said. "If we don't, this shaft will be achimney of fire. "

In the haste of desperation, we attacked the thousand-foot climb. Iwent first, Mildred below me, and Ray, with the rifle, in the rear. Our heavy packs were a terrible impediment, but we dared not attemptto go on without them. The metal rungs were four feet apart; it was noeasy task to scramble from one to the next, again and again, forhundreds of times. 

 * * * * *

It must have taken us an hour to make it. We should have been caughtlong before we reached the top, but the giant crabs were slow in theirlumbering movements. Despite their evident intelligence, they seemedto lack anything like our railways and automobiles. 

The cold gray light of the polar sky came about us; a dull, purple-blue square grew larger above. I clambered over the last rung, flung myself across the top of the metal shaft. Looking down at thetiny fleck of white light so far below, I saw a bit of red move in it. 

"A crab!" I shouted. "Hurry!"

Mildred was just below me. I took her pack and helped her over theedge. 

Red flame flared up the shaft. 

We reached over, seized Ray's arms and fairly jerked him out of theruby ray. 

The bitterly cold wind struck our hot, perspiring bodies as wescrambled down the rungs outside the square metal shaft. Mildredshivered in her thin attire. 

"Out of the frying pan into the ice box!" Ray jested grimly as wedropped, to the frozen plain. 

Quickly we tore open our packs. Ray and I snatched out clothing andwrapped up the trembling girl. In a few minutes we had her snuglydressed in the fur garments that had been Major Meriden's. Then we gotinto the quilted garments we had made for ourselves. 

The intensely red heat-beam still flared up the shaft. Ray looked atit in satisfaction. 

"They'll have it so hot they can't get up it for some time yet, " heremarked hopefully. 

We shouldered our packs and set out over the wilderness of snow, turning our backs upon the metal-bound lake of fire, with the tallcone of iridescent flame rising in its center. 

The deep, purple-blue sky was clear, and, for a rarity, there was notmuch wind. I doubt that the temperature was twenty below. But it was aviolent change from the warm cavern. Mildred was blue and shivering. 

 * * * * *

In two hours the metal rim below the great white cone had vanishedbehind the black ice-crags. We passed near the wreck of MajorMeriden's plane and reached our last camp, where we had left the tentsledge, primus stove, and most of our instruments. The tent was stillstretched, though banked with snow. We got Mildred inside, chafed herhands, and soon had her comfortable. 

Then Ray went out and soon returned with a sealed tin of oil from thewrecked plane, with which he lit the primus stove. Soon the tent waswarm. We melted snow and cooked thick red soup. After the girl hadmade a meal of the scalding soup, with the little golden cakes, sheprofessed to be feeling as well as ever. 

"We can fix our plane!" Ray said. "There's a perfectly good prop onMeriden's plane!"

We went back to the wreck, found the tools, and removed an undamagedpropeller. This we packed on the sledge, with a good supply of fuelfor the stove. 

"I'm sure we're safe now, so far as the crab-things go, " he said. "Idon't fancy they'd get around very well in the snow. "

In an hour we broke camp, and made ten miles of the distance back tothe plane before we stopped. We were anxious about Mildred, but sheseemed to stand the journey admirably; she is a marvelous physicalspecimen. She seemed running over with gay vivacity of spirit; sheasked innumerable questions of the world which she had known only atsecond-hand from her mother's words. 

 * * * * *

The weather smiled on us during the march back to the plane as much asit had frowned on the terrible journey to the cone. We had anabundance of food and fuel, and we made it in eight easy stages. Oncethere was a light fall of snow, but the air was unusually warm andcalm for the season. 

We found the plane safe. It was the work of but a short time to removethe broken propeller and replace it with the one we had brought fromthe wrecked ship. We warmed and started the engine, broke the skidsloose from the ice, turned the plane around, and took off safely fromthe tiny scrap of smooth ice. 

Mildred seemed amazed and immensely delighted at the sensations of herfirst trip aloft. 

A few hours later we were landing beside the _Albatross_, in theleaden blue sea beyond the ice barrier. Bluff Captain Harper greetedus in amazed delight as we climbed to the deck. 

"You're just in time!" he said. "The relief expedition we landed cameback a week ago. We had no idea you could still be alive, with only aweek's provisions. We were sailing to-morrow. But tell us! Whathappened? Your passenger--"

"We just stopped to pick up my fiancee, " Ray grinned. "Captain, may Ipresent Miss Mildred Meriden? We'll be wanting you to marry us rightaway. "

THE MENACE OF THE INSECT

It is possible that future study may tell man enough about insects toenable him to eradicate them. This, however, is more than can bereasonably expected, for the more we cultivate the earth the better wemake conditions for these enemies. The insect thrives on the work ofman. And having made conditions ideal for the insect, with greatexpanses of cultivated food fitted to his needs, it is an optimist whocan believe that at the same time we can make other conditions whichwill be so unfavorable as to cause him to disappear completely. Thetwo things do not go together. 

The insect is much better fitted for life than is man. He can survivelong periods of famine, he can survive extremes of heat and cold. Theinsect produces great numbers of young which have no long period ofinfancy requiring the attention of the parents over a large part oftheir life. Every function of the insect is directed toward thepropagation of the race and the use of minimum effort in every otherdirection. 

It is even possible in some cases, the water flea, for example, forthe female to produce young without the necessity of fertilization bythe male. In order to perform the necessary work to insure foodsupplies for the winter other insects have developed highlyspecialized workers, especially fitted to do particular kinds oflabor. Ants and termites are in this class. 

If we examine the organization of insects closely we shall find butone point at which they are vulnerable. This is in their lack ofability to reason. True, there is considerable evidence to support thebelief that some insects are capable of simple reasoning, but thedevelopment in this direction is only of the most elementary nature. As compared to man it is safe to say that they do not reason. They areguided by instinct. 

This again is the most efficient way to organize their affairs. Itrequires no long period of training. They can begin performing alltheir useful functions as soon as their bodily development makes itpossible. No one need teach them how to catch their prey, how to buildtheir nests or shelters. Instinct takes care of this. But this, obviously the best system in a world wholly governed by instinct, isnot so desirable when the instinctively actuated insect encountersanother form of life, as man, which is capable of reason. Thereasoning individual can play all kinds of tricks on the individualwho is actuated by instinct. 

The Ghost World

_By Sewell Peaslee Wright_

[Illustration: _My whole attention was focused upon the strangebeings. _]

[Sidenote: Commander John Hanson records another of his thrillinginterplanetary adventures with the Special Patrol Service. ]

I was asleep when our danger was discovered, but I knew the instantthe attention signal sounded that the situation was serious. Kincaide, my second officer, had a cool head, and he would not have called meexcept in a tremendous emergency. 

"Hanson speaking!" I snapped into the microphone. "What's up, Mr. Kincaide?"

"A field of meteorites sweeping into our path, sir. " Kincaide's voicewas tense. "I have altered our course as much as I dared and amreducing speed at emergency rate, but this is the largest swarm ofmeteorites I have ever seen. I am afraid that we must pass through atleast a section of it. "

"With you in a moment, Mr. Kincaide!" I dropped the microphone andsnatched up my robe, knotting its cord about me as I hurried out of mystateroom. In those days, interplanetary ships did not have theirauras of repulsion rays to protect them from meteorites, it must beremembered. Two skins of metal were all that lay between the _Ertak_and all the dangers of space. 

I took the companionway to the navigating room two steps at a time andfairly burst into the room. 

Kincaide was crouched over the two charts that pictured the spacearound us, microphone pressed to his lips. Through the plate glasspartition I could see the men in the operating room tensed over theirwheels and levers and dials. Kincaide glanced up as I entered, andmotioned with his free hand towards the charts. 

One glance convinced me that he had not overestimated our danger. Thespace to right and left, and above and below, was fairly peppered withtiny pricks of greenish light that moved slowly across the milky facesof the charts. 

From the position of the ship, represented as a glowing red spark, andmeasuring the distances roughly by means of the fine black linesgraved in both directions upon the surface of the chart, it wasevident to any understanding observer that disaster of a most terriblekind was imminent. 

 * * * * *

Kincaide muttered into his microphone, and out of the tail of my eye Icould see his orders obeyed on the instant by the men in the operatingroom. I could feel the peculiar, sickening surge that told of speedbeing reduced, and the course being altered, but the cold, brutallyaccurate charts before me assured me that no action we dared takewould save us from the meteorites. 

"We're in for it, Mr. Kincaide. Continue to reduce speed as much aspossible, and keep bearing away, as at present. I believe we can avoidthe thickest portion of the field, but we shall have to take ourchances with the fringe. "

"Yes, sir!" said Kincaide, without lifting his eyes from the chart. His voice was calm and businesslike, now; with the responsibility onmy shoulders, as commander, he was the efficient, level-headedthinking machine that had endeared him to me as both fellow-officerand friend. 

Leaving the charts to Kincaide, I sounded the general emergencysignal, calling every man and officer of the _Ertak's_ crew to hispost, and began giving orders through the microphone. 

"Mr. Correy, "--Correy was my first officer--"please report at once tothe navigating room. Mr. Hendricks, make the rounds of all duty posts, please, and give special attention to the disintegrator ray operators. The ray generators are to be started at once, full speed. " Hendricks, I might say, was a junior officer, and a very good one, althoughquick-tempered and excitable--failings of youth. He had only recentlyshipped with us to replace Anderson Croy, who--but that has alreadybeen recorded. [2]

[Footnote 2: "The Dark Side of Antri, " in the January, 1931, issue ofAstounding Stories. ]

These preparations made, I glanced at the twin charts again. Thepeppering of tiny green lights, each of which represented a meteoriticbody, had definitely shifted in relation to the position of thestrongly-glowing red spark that was the _Ertak_, but a quickcomparison of the two charts showed that we would be certain to passthrough--again I use land terms to make my meaning clear--the upperright fringe of the field. 

The great cluster of meteorites was moving in the same direction asourselves now; Kincaide's change of course had settled that matternicely. Naturally, this was the logical course, since should we comein contact with any of them, the impact would bear a relation to onlythe _difference_ in our speeds, instead of the _sum_, as would be thecase if we struck at a wide angle. 

 * * * * *

It was difficult to stand without grasping a support of some kind, andwalking was almost impossible, for the reduction of our tremendousspeed, and even the slightest change of direction, placed terrificstrains upon the ship and everything in it. Space ships, at spacespeeds, must travel like the old-fashioned bullets if those within areto feel at ease. 

"I believe, Mr. Kincaide, it might be well to slightly increase thepower in the gravity pads, " I suggested. Kincaide nodded and spokebriefly into his microphone; an instant later I felt my weightincrease perhaps fifty per cent, and despite the inertia of my body, opposed to both the change in speed and direction of the _Ertak_, Icould now stand without support, and could walk without too muchdifficulty. 

The door of the navigating room was flung open, and Correy entered, his face alight with curiosity and eagerness. An emergency meantdanger, and few beings in the universe have loved danger more thanCorrey. 

"We're in for it, Mr. Correy, " I said, with a nod towards the charts. "Swarm of meteorites, and we can't avoid them. "

"Well, we've dodged through them before, sir, " smiled Correy. "We cando it again. "

"I hope so, but this is the largest field of them I have ever seen. Look at the charts: they're thicker than flies. "

 * * * * *

Correy glanced at the charts, slapped Kincaide across his bowed, tenseshoulders, and laughed aloud. 

"Trust the old _Ertak_ to worm her way through, sir, " he said. "Theray crews are on duty, I presume?"

"Yes. But I doubt that the rays will be of much assistance to us. Particularly if these are stony meteorites--and as you know, the oddsare about ten to one against their being of ferrous composition. Therays, deducting the losses due to the utter lack of a conductingmedium, will be insufficient protection. They will help, of course. The iron meteorites they will take care of effectively, but theconglomerate nature of the stony meteorites does not make themparticularly susceptible to the disintegrating rays. 

"We shall do what we can, but our success will depend largely upongood luck--or Divine Providence. "

"At any rate, sir, " replied Correy, and his voice had lost some of itslightness, "we are upon routine patrol and not upon special mission. If we do crack up, there is no emergency call that will remainunanswered. "

"No, " I said dryly. "There will be just another 'Lost in Space' reportin the records of the Service, and the _Ertak's_ name will go up onthe tablet of lost ships. In any case, we have done and shall do whatwe can. In ten minutes we shall know all there is to know. That aboutright, Mr. Kincaide?"

"Ten minutes?" Kincaide studied the charts with narrowed eyes, mentally balancing distance and speed. "We should be within the dangerarea in about that length of time, sir, " he answered. "And out ofit--if we come out--three or four minutes later. "

"We'll come out of it, " said Correy positively. 

I walked heavily across the room and studied the charts again. Spaceabove and below, to the right and the left of us, was powdered withthe green points of light. 

 * * * * *

Correy joined me, his feet thumping with the unaccustomed weight givenhim by the increase in gravity. As he bent over the charts, I heardhim draw in his breath sharply. 

Kincaide looked up. Correy looked up. I looked up. The glance of eachman swept the faces, read the eyes, of the other two. Then, with oneaccord, we all three glanced up at the clocks--more properly, at thetwelve-figured dial of the Earth clock, for none of us had any greatlove for the metric Universal system of time-keeping. 

Ten minutes. .. . Less than that, now. 

"Mr. Correy, " I said, as calmly as I could, "you will relieve Mr. Kincaide as navigating officer. Mr. Kincaide, present my complimentsto Mr. Hendricks, and ask him to explain the situation to the crew. You will instruct the disintegrator ray operators in their duties, andtake charge of their activities. Start operation at your discretion;you understand the necessity. "

"Yes, sir!" Kincaide saluted sharply, and I returned his salute. Wedid not shake hands, the Earth gesture of--strangely enough--bothgreeting and farewell, but we both realized that this might well be afinal parting. The door closed behind him, and Correy and I were lefttogether to watch the creeping hands of the Earth clock, the twincharts with their thick spatter of green lights, and the two fiery redsparks, one on each chart, that represented the _Ertak_ sweepingrecklessly towards the swarming danger ahead. 

 * * * * *

In other accounts of my experiences in the Special Patrol Service Ifeel that I have written too much about myself. After all, I have runmy race; a retired commander of the Service, and an old, old man, withthe century mark well behind me, my only use is to record, in thisfashion, some of those things the Service accomplished in the old dayswhen the worlds of the Universe were strange to each other, and spacetravel was still an adventure to many. 

The Universe is not interested in old men; it is concerned only withyouth and action. It forgets that once we were young men, strong, impetuous, daring. It forgets what we did; but that has always beenso. It always will be so. John Hanson, retired Commander of theSpecial Patrol Service, is fit only to amuse the present generationwith his tales of bygone days. 

Well, so be it. I am content. I have lived greatly; certainly I wouldnot exchange my memories of those bold, daring days even for youth andstrength again, had I to live that youth and waste that strength inthis softened, gilded age. 

But no more of this; it is too easy for an old man to rumble on abouthimself. It is only the young John Hanson, Commander of the _Ertak_, who can interest those who may pick up and read what I am writinghere. 

I did not waste the minutes measured by that clock, grouped with ourother instruments in the navigating room of the _Ertak_. I wrotehastily in the ship's log, stating the facts briefly and withoutfeeling. If we came through, the log would read better thus; if not, and by some strange chance it came to human eyes, then the Universewould know at least that the _Ertak's_ officers did not flinch fromeven such a danger. 

 * * * * *

As I finished the entry, Correy spoke:

"Kincaide's estimate was not far off, sir, " he said, with a swiftglance at the clock. "Here we go!" It was less than half a minuteshort of the ten estimated by Kincaide. 

I nodded and bent over the television disc--one of the huge, hoodedaffairs we used in those days. Widening the field to the greatestangle, and with low power, I inspected the space before us on allsides. 

The charts, operated by super-radio reflexes, had not lied about thedanger into which we were passing--had passed. We were in the midst ofa veritable swarm of meteorites of all sizes. 

They were not large; I believe the largest I saw had a mass of notmore than three or four times that of the _Ertak_ herself. Some of thesmaller bodies were only fifty or sixty feet in diameter. 

They were jagged and irregular in shape, and they seemed to spin atvarying speeds, like tiny worlds. 

As I watched, fixing my view now on the space directly in our path, Isaw that our disintegrator ray men were at work. Deep in the bowels ofthe _Ertak_, the moan of the ray generators had deepened in note; Icould even feel the slight vibration beneath my feet. 

One of the meteorites slowly crumbled on top, the dust ofdisintegration hovering in a compact mass about the body. More andmore of it melted away. The spinning motion grew irregular, eccentric, as the center of gravity was changed by the action of the ray. 

Another ray, two more, centered on the wobbling mass. It was directlyin our path, looming up larger and larger every second. 

Faster and faster it melted, the rays eating into it from four sides. But it was perilously near now; I had to reduce power in order to keepall of it within the field of my disc. If--

The thing vanished before the very nose of the ship, not an instanttoo soon. I glanced up at the surface temperature indicator, and sawthe big black hand move slowly for a degree or two, and stop. It was avery sensitive instrument, and registered even the slight friction ofour passage through the disintegrated dust of the meteorite. 

 * * * * *

Our rays were working desperately, but disintegrator rays are notnearly so effective in space as in an atmosphere of some kind. Half adozen times it seemed that we must crash head on into one of theflying bodies, but our speed was reduced now to such an extent that wewere going but little faster than the meteorites, and this fact wasall that saved us. We had more time for utilizing our rays. 

We nosed upward through the trailing fringe of the swarm in safety. The great field of meteorites was now below and ahead of us. We hadwon through! The _Ertak_ was safe, and--

"There seems to be another directly above us, sir, " commented Correyquietly, speaking for the first time since we had entered the area ofdanger. "I believe your disc is not picking it up. "

"Thank you, Mr. Correy, " I said. While operating on an entirelydifferent principle, his two charts had certain very definiteadvantages: they showed the entire space around us, instead of but aportion. 

I picked up the meteorite he had mentioned without difficulty. It wasa large body, about three times the mass of the _Ertak_, and somedistance above us--a laggard in the group we had just eluded. 

"Will it coincide with our path at any point, Mr. Correy?" I askeddoubtfully. The television disc could not, of course, give me thisinformation. 

"I believe so; yes, " replied Correy, frowning over his charts. "Arethe rays on it, sir?"

"Yes. All of them, I judge, but they are making slow work of it. " Ifell silent, bending lower over the great hooded disc. 

There were a dozen, a score of rays playing upon the surface of themeteorite. A halo of dust hung around the rapidly diminishing body, but still the mass melted all too slowly. 

 * * * * *

Pressing the attention signal for Kincaide, I spoke sharply into themicrophone:

"Mr. Kincaide, is every ray on that large meteorite above us?"

"Yes, sir, " he replied instantly. 

"Full power?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Very well; carry on, Mr. Kincaide. " I turned to Correy; he had justglanced from his charts to the clock, with its jerking second hand, and back to his charts. 

"They'll have to do it in the next ten seconds, sir, " he said. "Otherwise--" Correy shrugged, and his eyes fixed with a peculiar, fascinated stare on the charts. He was looking death squarely in theeyes. 

Ten seconds! It was not enough. I had watched the rays working, and Iknew their power to disintegrate this death-dealing stone that washurtling along above us while we rose, helplessly, into its path. 

I did not ask Correy if it was possible to alter the course enough, and quickly enough, to avoid that fateful path. Had it been possiblewithout tearing the _Ertak_ to pieces with the strain of it, Correywould have done it seconds ago. 

I glanced up swiftly at the relentless, jerking second hand. Sevenseconds gone! Three seconds more. 

The rays were doing all that could be expected of them. There was onlya tiny fragment of the meteorite left, and it was dwindling swiftly. But our time was passing even more rapidly. 

The bit of rock loomed up at me from the disc. It seemed to fly upinto my face, to meet me. 

"Got us, Correy!" I said hoarsely. "Good-by, old-man!"

I think he tried to reply. I saw his lips open; the flash of thebright light from the ethon tubes on his big white teeth. 

Then there was a crash that shook the whole ship. I shot into the air. I remember falling . .. Terribly. 

A blinding flash of light that emanated from the very center of mybrain, a sickening sense of utter catastrophe, and . .. Blackness. 

 * * * * *

I think I was conscious several seconds before I finally opened myeyes. My mind was still wandering; my thoughts kept flying around inhuge circles that kept closing in. 

We had hit the meteorite. I remembered the crash. I rememberedfalling. I remembered striking my head. 

But I was still alive. There was air to breathe and there was firmmaterial under me. I opened my eyes. 

For the first instant, it seemed I was in an utterly strange room. Nothing was familiar. Everything was--was _inverted_. Then I glancedupward, and I saw what had happened. 

I was lying on the ceiling of the navigating room. Over my head werethe charts, still glowing, the chronometers in their gimballed beds, and the television disc. Beside me, sprawled out limply, was Correy, atrickle of dried blood on his cheek. A litter of papers, chairs, framed licenses and other movable objects were strewn on and aroundus. 

My first instinctive, foolish thought was that the ship was upsidedown. Man has a ground-trained mind, no matter how many years he maytravel space. Then, of course, I realized that in the open void thereis not top nor bottom; the illusion is supplied, in space ships, bythe gravity pads. Somehow, the shock of impact had reversed thepolarity of the leads to the pads, and they had become repulsion pads. That was why I had dropped from the floor to the ceiling. 

All this flashed through my mind in an instant as I dragged myselftoward Correy. Dragged myself because my head was throbbing so that Idared not stand up, and one shoulder, my left, was numb. 

 * * * * *

For an instant I thought that Correy was dead. Then, as I bent overhim, I saw a pulse leaping just under the angle of his jaw. 

"Correy, old man!" I whispered. "Do you hear me?" All the formality ofthe Service was forgotten for the time. "Are you hurt badly?"

His eyelids flickered, and he sighed; then, suddenly, he looked up atme--and smiled!

"We're still here, sir?"

"After a fashion. Look around; see what's happened?"

He glanced about curiously, frowning. His wits were not all with himyet. 

"We're in a mess, aren't we?" he grinned. "What's the matter?"

I told him what I thought, and he nodded slowly, feeling his headtenderly. 

"How long ago did it happen?" he asked. "The blooming clock's upsidedown; can you read it?"

I could--with an effort. 

"Over twenty minutes, " I said. "I wonder how the rest of the men are?"

With an effort, I got to my feet and peered into the operating room. Several of the men were moving about, dazedly, and as I signalled tothem, reassuringly, a voice hailed us from the doorway:

"Any orders, sir?"

It was Kincaide. He was peering over what had been the top of thedoorway, and he was probably the most disreputable-looking officer whohad ever worn the blue-and-silver uniform of the Service. His nose wasbloody and swollen to twice its normal size. Both eyes were blackened, and his hair, matted with blood, was plastered in ragged swirls acrosshis forehead. 

"Yes, Mr. Kincaide; plenty of them. Round up enough of the men tolocate the trouble with the gravity pads; there's a reversedconnection somewhere. But don't let them make the repairs until thesignal is given. Otherwise, we'll all fall on our heads again. Mr. Correy and I will take care of the injured. "

 * * * * *

The next half hour was a trying one. Two men had been killed outright, and another died before we could do anything to save him. Every man inthe crew was shaken up and bruised, but by the time the check wascompleted, we had a good half of our personnel on duty. 

Returning at last to the navigating room, I pressed the attentionsignal for Kincaide, and got his answer immediately. 

"Located the trouble yet, Mr. Kincaide?" I asked anxiously. 

"Yes, sir! Mr. Hendricks has been working with a group of men and hasjust made his report. They are ready when you are. "

"Good!" I drew a sigh of relief. It had been easier than I thought. Pressing the general attention signal, I broadcasted the warning, giving particular instructions to the men in charge of the injured. Then I issued orders to Hendricks:

"Reverse the current in five seconds, Mr. Hendricks, and stand by forfurther instructions. "

Hastily, then, Correy and I followed the orders we had given the men. Briefly we stood on our heads against the wall, feeling very foolish, and dreading the fall we knew was coming. 

It came. We slid down the wall and lit heavily on our feet, while thelitter that had been on the ceiling with us fell all around us. Miraculously, the ship seemed to have righted herself. Correy and Ipicked ourselves up and looked around. 

"We're still operating smoothly, " I commented with a sweeping glanceat the instruments over the operating table. "Everything seems inorder. "

"Did you notice the speed indicator, sir?" asked Correy grimly. "Whenhe fell, one of the men in the operating room must have pulled thespeed lever all the way over. We're at maximum space speed, sir, andhave been for nearly an hour, with no one at the controls. "

 * * * * *

We stared at each other dully. Nearly an hour, at maximum spacespeed--a speed seldom used except in case of great emergency. With noone at the controls, and the ship set at maximum deflection from hercourse. 

That meant that for nearly an hour we had been sweeping into infinitespace in a great arc, at a speed I disliked to think about. 

"I'll work out our position at once, " I said, "and in the meantime, reduce speed to normal as quickly as possible. We must get back on ourcourse at the earliest possible moment. "

We hurried across to the charts that were our most important aides inproper navigation. By comparing the groups of stars there with ourspace charts of the universe, the working out of our position wasordinarily, a simple matter. 

But now, instead of milky rectangles, ruled with fine black lines, with a fiery red speck in the center and the bodies of the universegrouped around in green points of light, there were only nearly blankrectangles, shot through with vague, flickering lights that revealednothing except the presence of disaster. 

"The meteoric fragment wiped out some of our plates, I imagine, " saidCorrey slowly. "The thing's useless. "

I nodded, staring down at the crawling lights on the charts. 

"We'll have to set down for repairs, Mr. Correy. If, " I added, "we canfind a place. "

Correy glanced up at the attraction meter. 

"I'll take a look in the big disc, " he suggested. "There's a sizeablebody off to port. Perhaps our luck's changed. "

He bent his head under the big hood, adjusting the controls until helocated the source of the registered attraction. 

"Right!" he said, after a moment's careful scrutiny. "She's as big asEarth, I'd venture, and I believe I can detect clouds, so there shouldbe atmosphere. Shall we try it, sir?"

"Yes. We're helpless until we make repairs. As big as Earth, you said?Is she familiar?"

Correy studied the image under the hood again, long and carefully. 

"No, sir, " he said, looking up and shaking his head. "She's a new oneon me. "

 * * * * *

Conning the ship first by means of the television disc, and navigatingvisually as we neared the strange sphere, we were soon close enough tomake out the physical characteristics of this unknown world. 

Our spectroscopic tests had revealed the presence of atmospheresuitable for breathing, although strongly laden with mineral fumeswhich, while possibly objectionable, would probably not be dangerous. 

So far as we could see, there was but one continent, somewhat north ofthe equator, roughly triangular in shape, with its northernmost pointreaching nearly to the Pole. 

"It's an unexplored world, sir. I'm certain of that, " said Correy. "Iam sure I would have remembered that single, triangular continent hadI seen it on any of our charts. " In those days, of course, theUniverse was by no means so well mapped as it is today. 

"If not unknown, it is at least uncharted, " I replied. "Rough lookingcountry, isn't it? No sign of life, either, that the disc willreveal. "

"That's as well, sir. Better no people than wild natives who mightinterfere with our work. Any choice in the matter of a spot on whichto set her down?"

I inspected the great, triangular continent carefully. Towards thenorth it was a mass of snow covered mountains, some of them, fromtheir craters, dead volcanoes. Long spurs of these ranges reachedsouthward, with green and apparently fertile valleys between. Thesouthern edge was covered with dense tropical vegetation; a veritablejungle. 

"At the base of that central spur there seems to be a sort ofplateau, " I suggested. "I believe that would be a likely spot. "

"Very well, sir, " replied Correy, and the old _Ertak_, reduced toatmospheric speed, swiftly swept toward the indicated position, whileCorrey kept a wary eye on the surface temperature gauge, and I sweptthe terrain for any sign of intelligent life. 

 * * * * *

I found a number of trails, particularly around the base of thefoothills, but they were evidently game trails, for there were nodwelling places of any kind; no cities, no villages, not even a singlehabitation of any kind that the searching eyes of the disc coulddetect. 

Correy set her down as neatly and as softly as a rose petal drifts tothe ground. Roses, I may add, are a beautiful and delicate flower, with very soft petals, peculiar to my native Earth. 

We opened the main exit immediately. I watched the huge, circular doorback slowly out of its threads, and finally swing aside, swiftly andsilently, in the grip of its mighty gimbals, with the weird, unearthly feeling I have always had when about to step foot on somestrange star where no man has trod before. 

The air was sweet, and delightfully fresh after being cooped up forweeks in the _Ertak_, with her machine-made air. A little thinner, Ishould judge, than the air to which we were accustomed, but strangelyexhilarating, and laden with a faint scent of some unknownconstituent--undoubtedly the mineral element our spectroscope hadrevealed but not identified. Gravity, I found upon passing through theexit, was normal. Altogether an extremely satisfactory repair station. 

Correy's guess as to what had happened proved absolutely accurate. Along the top of the _Ertak_, from amidships to within a few feet ofher pointed stem, was a jagged groove that had destroyed hundreds ofthe bright, coppery discs, set into the outer skin of the ship, thatoperated our super-radio reflex charts. The groove was so deep, inplaces, that it must have bent the outer skin of the _Ertak_ downagainst the inner skin. A foot or more--it was best not to think ofwhat would have happened then. 

 * * * * *

By the time we completed our inspection dusk was upon us--a long, lingering dusk, due, no doubt, to the afterglow resulting from themineral content of the air. I'm no white-skinned, stoop-shoulderedlaboratory man, so I'm not sure that was the real reason. It soundslogical, however. 

"Mr. Correy, I think we shall break out our field equipment and giveall men not on watch an opportunity to sleep out in the fresh air, " Isaid. "Will you give the orders, please?"

"Yes, sir. Mr. Hendricks will stand the eight to twelve watch asusual?"

I nodded. 

"Mr. Kincaide will relieve him at midnight, and you will take over atfour. "

"Very well, sir. " Correy turned to give the orders, and in a fewminutes an orderly array of shelter tents made a single street infront of the fat, dully-gleaming side of the _Ertak_. Our tents wereat the head of this short company street, three of them in a littlerow. 

After the evening meal, cooked over open fires, with the smoke of thevery resinous wood we had collected hanging comfortably in the stillair, the men gave themselves up to boisterous, noisy games, which, Iconfess, I should have liked very much to participate in. They racedand tumbled around the two big fires like schoolboys on a lark. Onlythose who have spent most of their days in the metal belly of a spaceship know the sheer joy of utter physical freedom. 

Correy, Kincaide and I sat before our tents and watched them, chattingabout this and that--I have long since forgotten what. But I shallnever forget what occurred just before the watch changed that night. Nor will any man of the _Ertak's_ crew. 

 * * * * *

It was just a few minutes before midnight. The men had quieted downand were preparing to turn in. I had given orders that this firstnight they could suit themselves about retiring; a good officer, and Itried to be one, is never afraid to give good men a little rein, nowand then. 

The fires had died down to great heaps of red coals, filmed withashes, and, aside from the brilliant galaxy of stars overhead, therewas no light from above. Either this world had no moons, not even asingle moon, like my native Earth, or it had not yet arisen. 

Kincaide rose lazily, stretched himself, and glanced at his watch. 

"Seven till twelve, sir, " he said. "I believe I'll run along andrelieve--"

He never finished that sentence. From somewhere there came a rushingsound, and a damp, stringy net, a living, horrible, _something_, descended upon us out of the night. 

In an instant, what had been an orderly encampment became a bedlam. Itried to fight against the stringy, animated, nearly intangible mass, or masses, that held me, but my arms, my legs, my whole body, wasbound as with strings and loops of elastic bands. 

Strange whispering sounds filled the air, audible above the shoutingof the men. The net about me grew tighter; I felt myself being liftedfrom the ground. Others were being treated the same way; one of the_Ertak's_ crew shot straight up, not a dozen feet away, writhing andsquirming. Then, at an elevation of perhaps twice my height, he washurried away. 

Hendrick's voice called out my name from the _Ertak's_ exit, and Ishouted a warning:

"Hendrick! Go back! Close the emergency--" Then a gluey mass cutacross my mouth, and, as though carried on huge soft springs, I washurried away, with the sibilant, whispering sounds louder and closerthan ever. With me, as nearly as I could judge, went every man who hadnot been on duty in the ship. 

 * * * * *

I ceased struggling, and immediately the rubbery network about meloosened. It seemed to me that the whisperings about me were suddenlyapproving. We were in the grip, then, of some sort of intelligentbeings, ghost-like and invisible though they were. 

After a time, during which we were all, in a ragged group, being borneswiftly towards the mountains, all at a common level from the ground, I managed to turn my head so that I could see, against the star-litsky, something of the nature of the things that had made us captive. 

As is not infrequently the case, in trying to describe things of anutterly different world, I find myself at a loss for words. I think ofjellyfish, such as inhabit the seas of most of the inhabited planets, and yet this is not a good description. 

These creatures were pale, and almost completely transparent. Whattheir forms might be, I could not even guess. I could make outwrithing, tentacle-like arms, and wrinkled, flabby excrudescences andthat was all. That these creatures were huge, was evident from thefact that they, apparently walking, from the irregular, undulatingmotion, held us easily ten or a dozen feet from the ground. 

With the release of the pressure about my body I was able to talkagain, and I called out to Correy, who was fighting his way along, muttering, angrily, just ahead of me. 

"Correy! No use fighting them. Save your strength, man!"

"Then? What are they, in God's name? What spawn of hell--"

"The Commander is right, Correy, " interrupted Kincaide, who was notfar from my first officer. "Let's get our breaths and try to figureout what's happened. I'm winded!" His voice gave plentiful evidence ofthe struggle he had put up. 

"I want to know where I'm going, and why!" growled Correy, ceasing hisstruggling, nevertheless. "What have us? Are they fish or flesh orfowl?"

"I think we shall know before very long, Correy, " I replied. "Lookahead!"

 * * * * *

The bearers of the men in the fore part of the group had apparentlystopped before a shadowy wall, like the face of a cliff. Rapidly, therest of us were brought up, until we were in a compact group, some insitting positions, some upside down, the majority reclining on back orside. The whispering sound now was intense and excited, as though ourstrange bearers awaited some momentous happening. 

I took advantage of the opportunity to speak very briefly to mycompanions. 

"Men, I'll admit frankly that I don't know what we're up against, " Isaid. "But I do know this: we'll come out on top of the heap. Conserveyour strength, keep your eyes open, and be prepared to obey, instantly, any orders that may be issued: I know that last remark isnot needed. If any of you should see or learn something of interest orvalue, report at once to Mr. Correy, Mr. Kincaide or my--"

A simultaneous, involuntary exclamation from the men interrupted me, and it was not surprising that this was so, for the wall before us hadsuddenly opened, and there was a great burst of yellow light in ourfaces. A strong odor, like the faint scent we had first noticed in theair, but infinitely more powerful, struck our nostrils, but I was notconscious of the fact for several seconds. My whole attention, myevery startled thought, was focused upon the group of strange beings, silhouetted against the glowing light, that stood in the opening. 

 * * * * *

Imagine, if you can, a huge globe, perhaps eight feet in diameter, flattened slightly at the bottom, and supported on six short, hugestumps, like the feet of an elephant, and topped by an excrudescencelike a rounded coning tower, merging into the globular body. Frompoints slightly below this excrudescence, visualize six long, limptentacles, so long that they drop from the equators of these animatedspheres, and trail on the ground. Now you have some conception of thebeings that stood before us. 

A sharp, sibilant whispering came from one of these figures, to beanswered in an eager chorus from our bearers. There was a reply like acommand, and the group in the doorway marched forward. One by onethese visible tentacles wrapped themselves around a member of the_Ertak's_ crew, each one of the globular creatures bearing one of us. 

I heard a disappointed whisper go up from the outer darkness where, but a moment before, we had been. Then there was a grating sound, anda thud as the stone doorway was rolled back into place. 

The entrance was sealed. We were prisoners indeed!

"All right, now what?" gritted Correy. "God! If I ever get a handloose!"

Swiftly, each of us held above the head-like excrudescence atop theglobular body of the thing that held us, we were carried down awidening rocky corridor, towards the source of the yellow light thatbeat about us. 

 * * * * *

The passage led to a great cavern, irregular in shape, and apparentlypossessed of numerous other outlets which converged here. 

I am not certain as to the size of the cavern, save that it was great, and that the roof was so high in most sections that it was lost inshadow. 

The great cavern was nearly filled with creatures similar to thosewhich were bearing us, and they fell back in orderly passage to permitour conductors to pass. 

I could see, now, that the hump atop each rounded body was a travestyof a head, hairless, and without a neck. Their features wereparticularly hideous, and I shall pass over a description as rapidlyas possible. 

The eyes were round, and apparently lidless; a pale drab or bluff incolor. Instead of a nose, as, we understand the term, they had aconvoluted rosette in the center of the face, not unlike the olfactoryorgan of a bat. Their ears were placed as are ours, but were of thin, pale parchment, and hugged the side of the head tightly. Instead of amouth, there was a slightly depressed oval of fluttering skin near thepoint where the head melted into the rounded body: the rapidfluttering or vibration of this skin produced the whispering sound Ihave already remarked. 

The cavern, as I have said, was flooded with yellow light, which camefrom a great column of fire near the center of the clear space. I hadno opportunity to inspect the exact arrangements but from what I didsee, I judged that this flame was fed by some sort of highlyinflammable substance, not unlike crude oil, except that it burnedclearly and without smoke. This substance was conducted to the fontfrom which the flame leaped by means of a large pipe of hollow reed orwood. 

At the far end of the cavern a procession entered from one of thepassages--nine figures similar to those which bore us, save that bythe greater darkness of their skin, and the wrinkles upon both faceand body, I judged these to be older than the rest. From the respectwith which they were treated, and the dignity of their movements, Igathered that these were persons of authority, a surmise which quicklyverified itself. 

 * * * * *

These nine elders arranged themselves, standing, in the form of asemicircle, the center creature standing a pace or two in front of theothers. At a whispered command, we were all dumped unceremoniously onthe floor of the cavern before this august council of nine. 

Nine pairs of fish-like, unblinking eyes inspected us, whether withenmity or otherwise; I could not determine. One of the nine spokebriefly to one of our conductors, and received an even more briefreply. 

I felt the gaze of the creature in the center fix on me. I had takenmy proper position in front of my men; he apparently recognized me asthe leader of the group. 

In a sharp whisper, he addressed me; I gathered from the tone that heuttered a command, but I could only shake my head in response. Nowords could convey thought from his mind to mine--but we did have ameans of communication at hand. 

"Mr. Correy, " I said, "your menore, please!" I released my own fromthe belt which held it, along with the other expeditionary equipmentwhich we always wore when outside our ship, and placed it in positionupon my head, motioning for one of the nine to do likewise withCorrey's menore. 

They watched me suspiciously, despite my attempt to convey, by gestures, that by means of these instruments we could convey thoughts to each other. The menores of those days were bulky, heavy things, and undoubtedly theylooked dangerous to these creatures: thought-transference instruments atthat time were complicated affairs. 

 * * * * *

However, I must have made myself partially understood, at least, forthe chief of the nine uttered a whispered command to one of the beingswho had borne us to the large cavern, and motioned with a writhinggesture of one tentacle that I was to place the menore upon thiscreature's head. 

"The old boy's playing it safe, sir, " muttered Correy, chuckling. "Wants to try it out on the dog first. "

"Right!" I nodded, and, not without difficulty, placed the othermenore upon the rounded dome of the individual selected for the trial. 

Both instruments were adjusted to full power, and I concentrated mymental energy upon the simple pictures that I thought I could conveyto the limited mentality of which I suspected these creatures, watching his fishy eyes the while. 

It was several seconds before he realized what was happening; then hebegan talking excitedly to the waiting nine. The words fairly burnedthemselves in my consciousness, but of course were utterlyunintelligible to me. Before the creature had finished, a lash-liketentacle shot out from the chief of the nine and removed the menore; amoment later it reposed, at a rather rakish slant, on the shining domeof its new possessor. 

"Get anything, sir?" asked Correy in a low voice. 

"Not yet. I'm trying to make him see how we came here, and that we'refriends. Then I'll see what I can get out of him; he'll have to getthe idea of coming back at me with pictures instead of words, and itmay take a long time to make him understand. "

It did take a long time. I could feel the sweat trickling down my faceas I strove to make him understand. His eyes revealed wonderment and alittle fear, but an almost utter lack of understanding. 

I pictured for him the heavens, and our ship sailing along throughspace. Then I showed him the _Ertak_ coming to rest on the plateau, and he made little impatient noises as though to convey that he knewall about that. 

 * * * * *

After a long time he got the idea. Crudely, dimly, he pictured the_Ertak_ leaving this strange world, and soaring off into vacant space. Then his scene faded out, and he pictured the same thing again, as onemight repeat a question not understood. He wanted to know where wewould go if we left this world of his. 

I pictured for him other worlds, peopled with men more or less likemyself. I showed him the great cities, and the fleets of ships likethe _Ertak_ that plied between them. Then, as best I could, I askedhim about himself and his people. 

It came to me jerkily and poorly pictured, but I managed to piece outthe story. Whether I guess correctly on all points, I am not sure, norwill I ever be sure. But this is the story as I got it. 

These people at one time lived in the open, and all the people of thisworld were like those in the cavern, possessed of opaque bodies andgreat strength. There were none of the ghost-like creatures who hadcaptured us. 

But after a long time, a ruling class arose. They tried to dominatethe masses, and the masses refused to be dominated. But the rulingclasses were wise, and versed in certain sciences; the masses wereignorant. So the ruling classes devised a plan. 

These creatures did not eat. There was a tradition that at one timethey had had mouths, as I had, but that was not known. Their strength, their vitality, came from the powerful mineral vapor which came forthfrom the bowels of the earth. The ruling classes decided that if theycould control the supply of this vapor, they would have the whip hand, and they set about realizing this condition. 

 * * * * *

It was quickly done. All the sources of supply, save one, were sealed. This one source of supply was the cavern in which we stood. These weremembers of the ruling class, and outside was the rabble, starved andunhappy, living on the faint seepage of the vital fumes, without whichthey became almost bodiless, and the helpless slaves of those withinthe cavern. 

These creatures, then, were boneless; as boneless as sponges, and, like sponges, capable of absorbing huge quantities of a foreignsubstance, which distended them and gave them weight. I could see, now, why the rotund bodies sagged and flattened at the base, and whysix short, stubby legs were needed to support that body. There wasonly tissue, unsupported by bone, to bear the weight!

This chief of the nine went on to show me how ruthlessly, how cruellythose within the cavern ruled those without. The substance that fedthe flame had to be gathered and a great reservoir on the side of themountain kept filled. Great masses of dry, sweet grass, often changed, must be harvested and brought to the entrance of the cavern, forbedding. A score of other tasks kept the outsiders busy always--andthe driving force was that, did the slaves become disobedient, theslight supply of mineral vapor available in the outside world would becut off utterly, and all outside would surely die, slowly and inagony. 

Those within the cavern were the rulers. They would always remain therulers, and those outside would remain the slaves to wait upon them. And we--how strangely he pictured us, as he saw us!--were not toreturn to our queer worlds, that we might bring many other ships likethe _Ertak_ back to interfere. No. 

The pupils of his eyes contracted, and the leafy structure of his nosefluttered as though with strong emotion. 

No, we would not go back. He would give a signal to those of hiscreatures who stood behind us--a sort of soldiery, I gathered--and ourheads, our legs, our arms, would be torn from our bodies. Then wewould not go back to bring--

 * * * * *

That was enough for me. 

"Men!" I spoke softly, but with an intensity that gave me theirinstant attention, "it's going to be a fight for life. When I give thesignal, make a rush for the entrance by which we came in. I'll leadthe way. Use your pistols, and your bombs if necessary. Allright--forward!"

Correy's great shout rang out after mine, and I flung my menore in theface of the nearest guard. It bounced off as though it had struck arubber ball. Behind me, one of the men called out sharply; I heard asharp crunch of bone, and with a pang realized that the _Ertak's_ logwould have at least one death to record. 

A dozen tentacles lashed out at me, and I sprayed their owners withpellets from my atomic pistol. The air was filled with the shouts ofmy men and the whispers of our enemies. All around me I could hear thescreaming of ricochets from our pistols. Twice atomic bombs explodednot far away, and the solid rock shook beneath my feet. Something shotby close to my face; an instant later a limp bundle in the blue andsilver uniform of our Service struck the rock wall of the cavern, thirty feet away. The strength in those rubbery tentacles wasterrible. 

The pistols seemed to have but little effect. They wounded, but theydid not kill unless the pellet struck the head. Then the victimrolled over, rocking idiotically on its middle. 

"In the head, men!" I shouted. "That downs them! And keep the bombs inaction. Throw them against the walls of the cavern. Take a chance!"

A ragged cheer went up, and I heard Correy's voice raised in angryconversation with the enemy:

"You will, eh? There!. .. Now!. .. Ah!--right--through--the--eye. That's--the place!"

 * * * * *

A score of times I was grasped and held by the writhing arms of theangry horde whispering all around me. Each time I literally shot thetentacle away with my atomic pistol, leaving the severed end to unwrapitself and drop from my struggling body. The things had no blood inthem. 

Steadily, we fought our way toward the doorway, out of the cavern, down the passageway, pressed into a compact, sweating mass by thepressure of the eager bodies around us. I have never heard any soundeven remotely like the babel of angry, sibilant whispering that beatagainst the walls and roof of that cavern. 

I had saved my own bombs for a specific purpose, and now I unslungthem and managed to work them up above my shoulders, one in eitherhand. 

"I'm going to try to blow the entrance clear, men, " I shouted. "Theinstant I fling the bombs, drop! The fragments will be stopped by theenemy crowding around us. One . .. Two . .. Three . .. _drop_!"

The two bombs exploded almost simultaneously. The ground shook, andall over the cavern masses of stone came crashing to the floor. Bitsof rock hummed and shrieked over our heads. And--yes! There was adraft of cooler, purer air on our faces. The bombs had done theirwork. 

"One more effort and we're outside, men, " I called. "The passage isopen, and there are only a few of the enemy before us. Ready?"

"Ready!" went up the hoarse shout. 

"Then, forward!"

It was easy to give the command, but hard to execute it. We werepressed so hard that only the men on the outside of the group coulduse their weapons. And our captors were making a terrible, desperateeffort to hold us. 

Two more of our men were literally torn to pieces before my eyes, butI had the satisfaction of ripping holes in the heads of the creatureswhose tentacles had done the beastly work. And in the meantime we wereworking our way slowly but surely to the entrance. 

 * * * * *

I glanced up as I dodged out into the open. That soft humming soundwas familiar, and properly so. There, at an elevation of less thanfifty feet, was the _Ertak_, with Hendricks standing in the exit, leaning forward at a perilous angle. 

"Ahoy the _Ertak_!" I hailed. "Descend at once!"

"Right, sir!" Hendricks turned to relay the order, and, as the rest ofthe men burst forth from the cavern, the ship struck the ground beforeus. 

"All hands board ship!" I ordered. "Lively, now. " As many years as Ihave commanded men, I have never seen an order obeyed with morealacrity. 

I was the last man to enter, and as I did so, I turned for a lastglance at the enemy. 

They could not come through the small opening my bombs had driven inthe rock, although they were working desperately to enlarge it. Leaping back and forth between me and the entrance I could see thevague, shadowy figures of the outside slaves, eagerly seeping up thelife-giving fumes that escaped from the cavern. 

"Your orders, sir?" asked Hendricks anxiously; he was a very youngofficer, and he had been through a very trying experience. 

"Ascend five hundred feet, Mr. Hendricks, " I said thoughtfully. "Directly over this spot. Then I'll take over. 

"It isn't often, " I added, "that the Service concerns itself witheconomic conditions. This, however, is one of the exceptions. "

"Yes, sir, " said Hendricks, for the very good reason, I suppose, thatthat was about all a third officer could say to his commander, underthe circumstances. 

 * * * * *

"Five hundred feet, sir, " said Hendricks. 

"Very well, " I nodded, and pressed the attention signal of thenon-commissioned officer in charge of the big forward ray projector. 

"Ott? Commander Hanson speaking. I have special orders for you. "

"Yes, sir!"

"Direct your ray, narrowed to normal beam and at full intensity, onthe spot directly below. Keep the ray motionless, and carry on untilfurther orders. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly, sir. " The disintegrator ray generators deepened their purras I turned away. 

"I trust, sir, that I did the right thing in following you with the_Ertak_?" asked Hendricks. "I was absolutely without precedent, andthe circumstances were so mysterious--"

"You handled the situation very well indeed, " I told him. "Had you notbeen waiting when we fought our way into the open, the nearlyinvisible things on the outside might have--but you don't know aboutthem yet. "

Picking up the microphone again, I ordered a pair of searchlights tofollow the disintegrator ray, and made my way forward, where I couldobserve activities through a port. 

The ray was boring straight down into a shoulder of a rocky hill, andthe bright beams of the searchlights glowed redly with the dust ofdisintegration. Here and there I could see the shadowy, transparentforms of the creatures that the self-constituted rulers of this worldhad doomed to a demi-existence, and I smiled grimly to myself. Thetables would soon be turned. 

 * * * * *

For perhaps an hour the ray melted its way into the solid rock, whileI stood beside Ott and his crew, watching. Then, down below us, thingsbegan to happen. 

Little fragments of rock flew up from the shaft the ray had drilled. Jets of black mud leaped into the air. There was a sudden blast frombelow that rocked the _Ertak_, and the shaft became a miniaturevolcano, throwing rocky fragments and mud high into the air. 

"Very good, Ott, " I said triumphantly. "Cease action. " As I spoke, thefirst light of the dawn, unnoticed until now, spread itself over thescene, and we witnessed then one of the strangest scenes that theUniverse has ever beheld. 

Up to the very edge of that life-giving blast of mineral-laden gas thetenuous creatures came crowding. There were hundreds of them, thousands of them. And they were still coming, crowding closer andcloser and closer, a mass of crawling, yellowish shadows against thesombre earth. 

Slowly, they began to fill out and darken, as they drew in the fumesthat were more than bread and meat and water to us. Where there hadbeen formless shadows, rotund creatures such as we had met in thecavern stood and lashed their tentacles about in a sort of frenziedgladness, and fell back to make room for their brothers. 

 * * * * *

"It's a sight to make a man doubt his own eyes, sir, " said Correy, whohad come to stand beside me. "Look at them! Thousands of them pouringfrom every direction. How did it happen?"

"It didn't happen. I used our disintegrator ray as a drill; we simplysunk a huge shaft down into the bowels of the earth until we struckthe source of the vapor which the self-appointed 'ruling class' hasbottled up. We have emancipated a whole people, Mr. Correy. "

"I hate to think of what will happen to those in the cavern, " repliedCorrey, smiling grimly. "Or rather, since you've told me of thepleasant little death they had arranged for us. I'm mighty glad of it. They'll receive rough treatment, I'm afraid!"

"They deserve it. It has been a great sight to watch, but I believewe've seen enough. It has been a good night's work, but it's daylight, now, and it will take hours to repair the damage to the _Ertak's_hull. Take over in the navigating room, if you will, and pick a likelyspot where we will not be disturbed. We should be on our course byto-night, Mr. Correy. "

"Right, sir, " said Correy, with a last wondering look at the strangemiracle we had brought to pass on the earth below us. "It will seemgood to be off in space again, away from the troubles of these littleworlds. "

"There are troubles in space, too, " I said dryly, thinking of theswarm of meteorites that had come so close to wiping the _Ertak_ offthe records of the Service. "You can't escape trouble even in space. "

"No, sir, " said Correy from the doorway. "But you can get your sleepregularly!"

And sleep is, when one comes to think of it, a very precious thing. 

Particularly for an old man, whose eyelids are heavy with years. 

Readers' Corner

[Illustration: Readers' Corner]

 _Now In Book Form_

 Readers of Astounding Stories will be interested to hear that two of the continued novels which appeared in our pages during last year are coming out in book form. 

 The first of these is "Murder Madness, " by Murray Leinster. It is due sometime in February, so by the time this issue is on the newsstands it will no doubt be already out. The publishers are Brewer and Warren, and the price is $2. 00. Here's your chance, collectors, and those who missed an instalment or two. 

 The other book is "Brigands of the Moon, " by--everyone knows--Ray Cummings. It should be coming along in a month or so. Watch out for it!

_Mr. Cummings Sits In_

 Dear Editor:

 Thank you for the opportunity to address our Readers on certain side-lights of my tale, "The Exile of Time. " I particularly welcome it, for the theme of Time-traveling is, I think, the most interesting of any upon which I have written. 

 Some of you will no doubt recall my stories "The Man Who Mastered Time" and "The Shadow Girl. " In "The Exile of Time, " I present the third of the trilogy. It has no fictional connection with the others; it is in no sense a sequel, but rather a companion story. 

 To write about Time-traveling is for me a difficult but fascinating task. The opportunities are endless; and I hope you may think I have taken advantage of them with a measure of success. 

 I wrote those conceptions of Time and Space and the Great Cosmos, which you will find in the text of the story, because I feel them very deeply. Each occasion upon which circumstances allow me to present my theories, I eagerly welcome. How much of the conception is original with me, I cannot say. It is the product of my groping interpretation of the theories of many brilliant scientific minds of today--humbly combined with perhaps some originality of my own. The mind flings far afield when it starts to grope with the Unknown. Try it! Read what I have written and then let your mind roam a little further. Probe a little deeper. Perhaps we may contribute something. It is only by that process--each mind following some other's cleared path and pushing forward a little on his own--that the Unknown can be pierced. 

 When once you admit the basic idea of Time-traveling to be plausible, what fascinating vistas are opened to the imagination!

 Space is so crowded! The room in which you are now sitting as you read these words--just think what that Space around you has held in the Past, and will hold in the Future! You occupy it now, playing out your little part; but think what has happened where you are now sitting so calmly reading! What tumultuous, crowding events! Your room is quiet now, but its space has rung with war-cries; the ground under you has been drenched with blood; and further back it was lush with primeval jungle; and in another age it was frozen beneath a great ice-cap; and before that it blazed, molten with fire. Back to the Beginning. 

 And your little Space in the Future? It will be in the heart of a great mechanical city, perhaps. A mechanical servant may murder his human master in the space which you now call your room. The great revolt of the mechanisms may start in your room. .. . 

 I think that your room will some day again be shrouded under a forest growth. The mechanical city will be neglected, tumbled into ruins, buried beneath the silt of the passing centuries. The sun will slowly rise--a giant dull red ball, burning out, cooling. And the Earth will cool. Humans, perhaps, will have passed decadence and reverted to savagery. Perhaps the polar ice-caps will again come down, and ice slowly cover the dying world. All nature will be struggling and dying, with the sun a red ball turning dark like a cooling ember. 

 Millions of centuries, with whatever events--who am I to say?--but it will go on to the End. That's a long way from the Beginning, isn't it? And yet ours is only a tiny planet living briefly in the great cosmos of Time and Space!

 A segment of Everything that ever was and ever will be marches through the Space of your room. What an enormously thronged little Space! There is only Time, to keep consecutive and orderly the myriad events which in your room are pushing and jostling one another! I say, then, "Time is what keeps everything from happening at once. " It seems a good definition. 

 I do hope you like "The Exile of Time. " The writing of it made me realize how unimportant I am. A human lifetime is really as brief as the flash of an electric spark. The whole lifetime of our Earth is not much more than that. Stars, worlds, are born, live and die, and the Great Cosmos goes majestically on. Yet some people seem to feel that they and the Space they occupy in this Time they call the Present are the most important things that ever were or ever will be in the whole Universe. It is a good thing to realize that that isn't so. --Ray Cummings. 

_Likes_

 Dear Editor:

 Starting with the August issue, I am going to give my opinion of the stories. 

 "The Planet of Dread, " by R. F. Starzl, couldn't have been better. Get more stories by him. "Murder Madness, " by Murray Leinster, was a good story, but it didn't belong in a Science Fiction magazine. "The Terrible Tentacles of L-472, " a good story; "The Invisible Death, " a very good story; "Prisoners on the Electron, " very good; "The Ape-Men of Xlotli, " a good story, but it does not belong in a Science Fiction magazine; "The Pirate Planet, " very excellent--much more so because it is an interplanetary story. "Vagabonds of Space, " "The Fifth Dimension Catapult, " "The Gate of Xoran, " "The Dark Side of Antri"--all good. 

 Well, I guess I will sign off and give somebody else a chance to broadcast. --Wm. McCalvy, 1244 Beech St. , St. Paul, Minn. 

_I Do; I Don't_

 Dear Editor:

 "I like the magazine the way it is, " "I want a larger magazine, " "I want a magazine twice a month, " "I want a quarterly, " and so do I, "There is a terrible flaw in one of the stories, " "All of the stories are flawless, " "I want reprints, " "I don't, " "I like Ray Cummings, " "I don't, " "I want a better grade paper, " "The paper's O. K. With me, " "I want smooth edges on the magazine, " "So do I, " "And so do I!"--these seem to be the most often repeated sentences in the letters from Readers. 

 However, I have a new one to add: I would like to see an answer, by the Editor, to each letter that is printed in "The Readers' Corner, " like this: "I liked 'An Extra Man, ' etc. --Mr. Syence Ficshun" (I am very glad to hear that you liked this little masterpiece, etc. --Editor). Why not?

 The illustration on the cover of the January issue surely shows that you're starting the new year out right by putting on an extremely astounding cover. The story "The Gate to Xoran" is simply amazing. Let's read many more of Mr. Wells stories. It is far surpassed, however, by "The Fifth Dimension Catapult, " which is the best story (novelette) that I have ever read in "our" magazine. 

 The Boys' Scientification Club is now a branch of the famous Science Correspondence Club. Remember, boys between the ages of 10 and 15, if you're interested in reading Science Fiction, by all means join the B. S. C. We have many copies of Astounding Stories in our library and members are welcome to read them. For further details write to me. --Forrest J. Ackerman, President-Librarian, B. S. C. , 530 Staples Avenue, San Francisco, Cal. 

_Souls and Integrations_

 Dear Editor:

 You are starting your second year as Editor of Astounding Stories. If your standard during 1931 is up to your standard of 1930, we shall be satisfied. If possible, give us, the Readers, the best in Science Fiction. I have no doubt but that the Readers of Astounding Stories would not want fantasy unless written by a master; and to my mind there is only one whom I will forgive for not making his stories Science Fiction, and that writer is A. Merritt. Every other writer should and must put plausible science in his stories. If he doesn't, he won't go far; not with Science Fiction readers, anyway. 

 I do not agree to your answer, by letter, to my complaint about the science in the story, "An Extra Man, " by Jackson Gee. You say that two men, each the size and half the weight of the original man could have been formed from the integrated particles of the original man. In the story, the weight of the two men was exactly the same as that of the original man. [?] Anyway, I do not believe that these two men could have been formed. Most likely, when the laboratories began the process of reintegration, the person integrated would have been cut in half, provided of course, that the laboratories began the process at the same time. If not, one laboratory would produce a larger portion of an integrated man than the other. 

 But to come back to the original question. Can a man be disintegrated into his component atoms and then reintegrated into two men each half the size, weight, ability and brains? I say no. I believe that the component atoms of the man when reintegrated would be in exactly the same place as they were before the disintegration occurred. If a part and not the whole of a man is reintegrated in one place, then the part would be one part of that man and not a complete man in itself. 

 It would be as preposterous and absurd for anything but a part of that man to be reintegrated, as it would be for two apes, pigs or hens to come from him. I leave out the question of what would happen to the soul. Imagine a soul divided in half. Mr. Gee might say that he doesn't believe in souls. Neither do I, much. I notice that some Readers say that they liked that story. One even says that it was perfect. Every man to his taste. I've read worse, myself. 

 Anyway, Mr. Editor, Astounding Stories is the finest and best Science Fiction magazine on the market. 

 Many Readers want to keep their magazines and bind them, including myself. Why change the size? I'm certain that that won't be done. Astounding Stories started small (in size only) and it will remain small (also only in size). Let us have reprints. --Nathan Greenfeld, 373 Whitlock Ave. , New York City. 

_The Defense Rests_

 Dear Editor:

 I have just read the January issue for 1931 and noticed some so-called helpful letters by Readers. Looking over Mr. Waite's letter, would like to suggest that he stop to think, if possible, that if he wants absolute bone-dry facts, that he doesn't want fiction at all. And Mr. Johnson--he seems to have the impression that everyone who can take things for granted without having a detailed explanation of the facts of the story is a moron or a small child. He should go find a volume of scientific research if he enjoys that sort of stuff. I read fiction stories for the enjoyment I get out of them and not to criticize them for lack of explanation. I would rather read some of his so-called nonsense than a lot of far-flung, intricate, baseless scientific explanations. Why doesn't Mr. Johnson use his imagination?--Donald Kahl, 360 Selby Ave. , St. Paul, Minn. 

_"High Time"_

 Dear Editor:

 I have been reading the magazine ever since it first came out, a year ago, so it is high time for me to write. It certainly grows better with every new issue. 

 I think that the ten best stories published during 1930 were (not in order of merit): "Brigands of the Moon, " "Vandals of the Stars, " "The Atom Smasher, " "The Moon Master, " "Earth, the Marauder, " "The Planet of Dread, " "Silver Dome, " "The Second Satellite, " "Jetta of the Lowlands" and "The Pirate Planet. "

 Your ten best authors are: Harl Vincent, Ray Cummings, Charles W. Diffin, Victor Rousseau, Capt. S. P. Meek, Murray Leinster, Arthur J. Burks, R. F. Starzl, Sewell P. Wright and Edmond Hamilton. 

 The Commander Hanson stories by S. P. Wright are great. Let's have lots more of them. 

 And now about reprints. I cast my vote like many other readers in favor of them. Many Readers, in fact over half, are new Readers of Science Fiction. They, like myself, have not read the great masterpieces such as "The Time Machine, " "The Moon Pool" and countless other stories. Now, why not reprint some of them and give us a chance to read them? A few Readers who have read them before do not want them reprinted because they do not want anybody else to read them. 

 A brickbat: Why not cut the edges of the magazine smooth? It would be much easier to handle. 

 A bouquet: You have a fine magazine. Keep up the good stuff. My criticism is exhausted, so good-by until next time. --Oswald Train, P. O. Box 94, Barnesboro, Pa. 

_Two Dimensions Off?_

 Dear Editor:

 It was just by accident that I came across your magazine, and I have read every issue since. 

 In the January number there is one story that I don't like, "The Fifth Dimension Catapult. " As far as the story is concerned it is very good, but Professor Denham was not marooned in the fifth dimension. If you read the story you will find that Professor Denham was marooned on a three dimensional world. That is all I can make out. 

 Astounding Stories is the best Science Fiction magazine I have ever read, and I shall keep on reading it. 

 Keep up the good cover illustrations. --Richard Meindle, R. 1, Box 91, Butternut, Wisconsin. 

_To the Colors!_

 Dear Editor:

 Being a passionate admirer of Dr. Breuer and his writings, I cannot permit the contumelious, unfounded aggression of one George K. Addison to go on unconfuted. 

 Perceiving that Dr. Breuer cannot possibly vindicate himself against this disparagement I feel obliged to extenuate Dr. Breuer in the eyes of the Readers. 

 In the first place, Dr. Breuer writes rarely and sparingly and does not grind out his stories month after month as do some other authors. His stories are highly original and are presented in a purely literary style. The story to which Mr. Addison refers, "A Problem in Communication, " is a fine example of his work. Should his story be remonstrated against because it is lacking in adventure, because it did not delineate mushy love episodes, because it does not cause chills to run down one's spine? Positively not! It lives up to the standard of the highest Science Fiction. Here is a story unbesmirched by the love element, exceedingly plausible and interestingly narrated. 

 If all stories were thought out and written just half as carefully as Dr. Breuer's, Astounding Stories would become a periodical justified to be considered on a par with The Golden Book. 

 In closing, I wish to express my desire that more stories of the Breuer quality be bestowed upon the Readers. --Mortimer Weisinger, 266 Van Cortland Ave. , Bronx, New York. 

_And It Wasn't!_

 Dear Editor:

 Having read "The Readers' Corner" since its first appearance in Astounding Stories and noted the various criticisms offered, may I tell you about a story written by a Science Fiction author?

 The author, by the way, is the perfect author; he makes absolutely no mistakes in his story, and is in no danger of starving if his works aren't accepted and older stories are reprinted instead. His science is correct and the story contains nothing that cannot be understood. 

 The story is of interplanetary adventure. Strange to say, there is no war in the story; there is no villain; there is no hero to save a world from destruction or his sweetheart from the monsters of another planet. Instead, there are nothing but characters--if you get what I mean. The persons involved in this interplanetary novel reach their goal due to the tremendous strides of science in experimenting with air and space vehicles. 

 When they arrive on the planet they do not meet hostile nations. They do not meet monstrosities. They do, however, meet people much like themselves who do not welcome the travelers with open arms and show them about their city, but regard them with curiosity and treat them with all due respect for their achievement in conquering space. 

 As I said before, there is no hero who falls in love with the beautiful girl from the planet visited, and saves her and her country from other warring nations. To tell the truth, the adventurers have their own loved ones at home. They meet no intrigue. When they have learned all they can--experiencing many difficulties in mastering the language used, for the people of the planet have not perfected a brain-copier or other like mechanism--they arrange for commerce and travel between the two worlds and return to Earth. On their return, they are not met with world wide ovations and made heroes of, but receive credit for their undertaking and are soon forgotten about. 

 To cap the climax, the story is acceptable to the Editors. It is not in need of corrections and is published immediately. The story is gratefully accepted by the public and not one single soul writes a scathing letter to the Editor telling why it was not good. In fact, I can hardly believe that such a story was written. Possibly it wasn't!--Robert R. Young, 86 Third Avenue, Kingston, Penn. 

_Ha-ha!_

 Dear Editor:

 Christmas day, and because I'm not acquainted in this city I'm writing you a letter. 

 I have just finished reading your magazine. I came close to not buying it, being not overly prosperous, but decided to take a chance when I saw you had a dimensional story by Murray Leinster. That story was up to expectations. The others were down to expectations. 

 If you want me to choose your magazine to spend my reading allowance on, have more stories by Leinster, Starzl, Breuer and Wells. It may take a little more effort, but it's worth it. Sax Rohmer is good on science stuff, too. 

 Before you print any more undersea stories have a diver look at them. You tell about standing at the bottom of the ocean and seeing the submarine "not more than a quarter of a mile away. " Ha-ha! [No fair, that ha-ha! For the story says, quoted exactly: ". .. There gleamed the reassuring LIGHTS of the Nereid, not a quarter of a mile away. " Probably, intense searchlight beams could be seen that far. --Ed. ] You couldn't see it if you stood more than ten feet away. I'm not trying to be critical, but you should be more careful. --Myron Higgins, 524 West 100th St. , New York City. 

_We Never Will_

 Dear Editor:

 I have been an enthusiastic reader of Astounding Stories since it was founded, and I think it about time that I voiced my opinion of your great magazine. 

 Taking all in all it's a vow, but of course it could be made better by having a quarterly, which I am sure would go over big. 

 Wesso is great, so why not have all the illustrations by him?

 Your authors are also great. Nearly every story I have read was perfect, and whatever you do don't lose R. F. Starzl. His ideas are very good, as illustrated in "The Planet of Dread. "

 There is only one more thing I would like to ask of you, and that is the reason why I write. Please don't spoil the magazine by endeavoring to please a very small minority by putting in unnecessary scientific explanations. The reason why I like your magazine so much is because of the fact that it is unique in that respect. I have read a few stories in other scientific magazines and found that they contained too much explanation. I hope for the benefit of other Readers and myself that you will not change the stories by adding too much explanation. 

 In the coming year I wish you all possible success. --John Sheehan, 32 Elm St. , Cambridge, Mass. 

_This and That_

 Dear Editor:

 In the October issue of Astounding Stories Mr. Woodrow Gelman cast vote number 1 for reprints. In the February, 1931, issue, Mr. Forgaris throws in number 2 and here goes number 3. I really don't see why, even after the arguments you printed, you don't print at least one a year. I have been reading your magazine ever since it came out and have found that at least one-half of your Readers want reprints. Can't you print at least one for an experiment?

 Ray Cummings, S. P. Meek, Dr. Miles J. Breuer, Sewell P. Wright and Harl Vincent are your best authors. Wesso is your best artist by far. 

 There were several stories I did not like. They are: "Monsters of Moyen, " "Earth, the Marauder, " and I guess those are all. 

 How about giving us some short short stories? And how about cutting the edges of the paper smooth? And giving us a quarterly? But all in all I think your magazine is one of the best in the field. --Vernon H. Jones, 1603 Sixth Ave. , Des Moines, Iowa. 

_It's Your Imagination_

 Dear Editor:

 Well, well! Astounding Stories was two days early this month. See that this happens more often. 

 Of course, "The Pirate Planet" took first place in the February number. The story was very well written and the characters very realistic. It deserves to be put in book form, also in the talkies. It would be much better than "Just Imagine. "

 I welcome Anthony Gilmore, D. W. Hall and F. V. W. Mason to Astounding Stories. Their stories proved to be very interesting and I hope to read more. 

 Do you know how to write editorials? Yes? Then prove it. I have to be shown. Write on some scientific subject each month, and every so often write on Astounding Stories itself and of its stories and authors. 

 Is it my imagination or have you been using a better grade of paper in the past two issues? it seems to be much smoother and a little thinner than that used previously. 

 I notice that you are giving more room to some of the illustrations, as in "Werewolves of War" and "The Pirate Planet. " The larger the illustrations are the more there can be put in them. --Jack Darrow, 4225 No. Spaulding Ave. , Chicago, Illinois. 

_If He But Could!_

 Dear Editor:

 Astounding Stories is without doubt the most preeminent in its field. 

 With such versatile authors as Burks (When does his next story appear?), Starzl, Cummings, Leinster, Vincent and all the rest, how can it help but to overshadow all periodicals!

 The illustrations are superfine. Wesso is a marvel! If he could only write his own stories and illustrate them!

 Now, a suggestion. I am positive that every Reader of your magazine wants you to start a department in which biographies of the authors and their photographs are given. Why not start one?--Julius Schwartz, 407 East 183rd St. , Bronx, New York. 

_"The Readers' Corner"_

All readers are extended a sincere and cordial invitation to "comeover in 'The Readers' Corner'" and join in our monthly discussion ofstories, authors, scientific principles and possibilities--everythingthat's of common interest in connection with our Astounding Stories. 

Although from time to time the Editor may make a comment or so, thisis a department primarily for _Readers_, and we want you to make fulluse of it. Likes, dislikes, criticisms, explanations, roses, brickbats, suggestions--everything's welcome here: so "come over in'The Readers' Corner'" and discuss it with all of us!

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