with eyes that gleamed fromunder heavy brows, 'not only has my super-atomic-microscope revealedsomewhat of that world and its marvels to human vision, but it hasopened up another, a more wonderful possibility.'
"He did not tell me what this wonderful possibility was, and a fewminutes later I left the laboratory, intending to return after a lateclass. But a telegram from Phoenix was at my rooms, calling me home. Myfather was seriously ill. It was June before he recovered his health.Consequently I had to forego college until the next season.
"'Old Reubens is going dotty,' said one of my classmates to me. Ratherdisturbed, I sought him out. I saw that there were dark circles ofsleeplessness under his eyes and that his face had grown thinner.Somewhat diffidently I questioned him about his experiments. Heanswered slowly:
"'You will recollect my telling you that the super-atomic-microscopehad opened up another wonderful possibility?'
"I nodded, sharply curious now.
"'Look.'
"He led the way into his workshop. The super-atomic-microscope, Inoticed, had been altered almost out of recognition. It is hopeless forme to attempt describing those changes, but midway along one side ofits length projected a flat surface like a desk, with a largefunnel-shaped device resting on it. The big end of this funnel pointedtowards a square screen set against the wall, a curious screensuperimposed on what appeared to be a background of frosted glass.
"'This,' said the Professor, laying one hand on the funnel andindicating the screen with the other, 'is part of the arrangement withwhich I have established communication with the world in the atom.
"'No,' he said, rightly interpreting my exclamation, 'I am not crazy.For months I have been exchanging messages with the inhabitants of thatworld. You know the wave and corpuscular theories of light? Both arecorrect, but in a higher synthesis--But I won't go into that. Sufficeit to say that I broke through the seemingly insuperable barrierhemming in the atomic world and made myself known. But I see that youstill doubt my assertion. Very well, I will give you a demonstration.Keep your eyes on the screen--so----'
"Adjusting what seemed a radio headpiece to my ears, he seated himselfat a complicated control-board. Motors purred, lights flashed, everyfilament of the screen became alive with strange fires. The frostedglass melted into an infinity of rose-colored distance. Far off, in theexact center of this rosy distance appeared a black spot. Despite theheadpiece, I could hear the Professor talking to himself, manipulatingdials and levers. The black spot grew, it advanced, it took on form andsubstance; and then I stared, I gasped, for suddenly I was gazing intoa vast laboratory, but depicted on a miniature scale.
"But it wasn't this laboratory which riveted my attention. No. It wasthe unexpected creature that perched in the midst of it and seemed tolook into my face with unwinking eyes of gold set in a flat reptilianhead. This creature moved; its feathers gleamed metallically; I saw itsbill open and shut. Distinctly through the ear-phones came a harshsound, a sound I can only describe by the words _toc-toc, toc-toc_.Then, just as the picture had appeared, it faded, the lights went out,the purring of the motors ceased.
"'Yes,' said the Professor, stepping to my side and removing theheadpiece, 'the inhabitants of the sub-atomic planet are birds.'
"I could only stare at him dumbly.
"'I see that astounds you. You are thinking that they lack hands andother characteristics of the _genus homo_. But perhaps certainfaculties of manipulation take their place. At any rate those birds areintelligent beings; in some respects, further advanced in science thanare we ourselves. Perhaps it would be more exact to say that theirscientific investigations and achievements have been along slightlydifferent lines. If such messages I sent them had come to our worldfrom another planet or dimension, how readily they might have beenmisconstrued, ridiculed or ignored.' The Professor shrugged hisshoulders. 'But the beings in this sub-atomic world interpreted mycommunications without difficulty.
"In no time we were conversing with one another through means of asimplified code. I was soon given to understand that their scientistsand philosophers had long recognized the fact that their universe wasbut an atom in an immeasurably greater dimension of existence; yes, andhad long been trying to establish contact with it.' The Professor'svoice fell. 'And not that alone: they were eager to cooperate with mein perfecting a method of passing from their world to ours!
"'Yes,' he cried, 'much of what I have accomplished has been undertheir advice and guidance; and they on their part have labored; untilnow'--his eyes suddenly blazed into my fascinated face--'until now,after months of intensive work and experiment, success is nigh, and anyday may see the door opened and one of them come through!'
"Gentlemen!" cried Milton Baxter, "what more is there to say? Istaggered from Professor Reubens' laboratory that afternoon, my head ina whirl. That was on a Monday.
"'Come back Thursday,' he said.
"But as you know, Professor Reubens disappeared on a Wednesday nightbefore; and stranger still, his machines disappeared with him. In hislaboratory were signs of a struggle, and bloodstains were found. Thepolice suspected me of a guilty knowledge of his whereabouts, in shortof having made away with my friend. When I told somewhat of theexperiments he had been engaged in, spoke of the missing inventions,they thought I was lying. Horrified at the suspicion leveled at myself,I finally left Tucson and went abroad. Months passed; and during allthose months I pondered the mystery of the Professor's fate, and thefate of his machines. But my fevered brain could offer no solutionuntil I read of what was happening in Arizona; then, then...."
Milton Baxter leaned forward, his voice broke.
"Then," he cried, "then I understood! Professor Reubens had succeededin his last experiment. He had opened the door to earth for the birdintelligences from the atom and they had come through and slain him andspirited away his machines and established them in a secret place!
"God help us," cried Milton Baxter, "there can be but one conclusion todraw. They are waging war against us with their own hideous methods ofwarfare; they have set out to conquer earth!"
Such was the amazing story Milton Baxter told the Senate, but that bodyplaced little credence in it. In times of stress and disaster cranksand men of vivid imaginations and little mental stability inevitablyspring up. But the Washington correspondents wired the story to theirpapers and the Associated Press broadcast it to the four winds.
Talbot had just returned to Phoenix from New Mexico. He had been out oftouch with civilization and newspapers and it was with a feeling ofstunned amazement that he learned of the evacuation of Tucson andWinkleman and the wiping out of Oracle. Reading Milton Baxter'sincredible story he leapt to his feet with an oath. Toc-toc! Why, thatwas the sound the strange birds had uttered in the hills back ofOracle. And there was the noise of machinery coming from the old shaft.
Full of excitement he lost no time in seeking an interview with themilitary commander whose headquarters were located in Phoenix andrelated to him what Manuel and himself had witnessed and heard that dayat the abandoned mine. Manuel corroborated his tale. The commander wasmore than troubled and doubtful.
"God knows we cannot afford to pass up an opportunity of wiping out theenemy. If you will indicate on a map where the old shaft is we willbomb it from the air."
But Talbot shook his head.
"Your planes would have a tough job hitting a spot as small as thatfrom the air. Besides, a direct hit might only close up the shaft andnot destroy the workings underground. If the enemy be the creaturesMilton Baxter says they are, what is to prevent them from digging theirway out and resuming the attack?"
"Then we will land troops in there somehow and overwhelm them with----"
Talbot interrupted. "Pardon me, General, but the enemy would have nodifficulty in spotting such a maneuver. What chance would your soldiershave against a shower of jungle seed? You would only be sending them todestruction. No, the only way is for someone familiar with those oldunderground diggings to enter them, locate the birds and the machinesand blow them
up."
"But who----"
"Myself. Listen. This is the plan. About five years ago my companymined for copper and other ores about a half mile above the Wileyclaim. I was in charge of operations. That is how I know the ground sowell. One of our northern leads broke through into a tunnel of theabandoned mine. When copper prices were shot to hell in the depressionof 1930 we quit taking out ore; but when I went through the placeeighteen months ago it was still possible to crawl from one mine toanother. Of course earth and rock may have fallen since then, but Idon't believe the way is yet blocked. If I were dropped in thatvicinity at night with another man and the necessary tools andexplosives...."
The general thought swiftly.
"An auto-gyroscope could land you all right. There's one here now. Butwhat about the second man to accompany you?"
Manuel said quickly, "I'm going with the boss."
"You, Manuel," Talbot said roughly. "Don't be a fool. If anythingshould happen to me--well, I've lived my life; but you're only a kid."
Manuel's face set stubbornly. "An experienced mining man you need, isit not? In case there should be difficulties. And I am experienced.Besides, senores," he said simply, "my wife and child are somewhere inthose mountains ... above Oracle...."
Talbot gripped his hand in quick sympathy. "All right, Manuel; come ifyou like."
A moonless sky hung above them as they swung over the dark andjungle-engulfed deserted city of Tucson, a sky blazing with the clarityof desert stars, and to the south and west shot through with the beamsof great searchlights. Flying at a lofty altitude to avoid contact withdrifting globes or betrayal of their coming with no lights showingaboard their craft save those carefully screened and focused on theinstrument board, it was hard to realize that the fate of America,perhaps of the world, hung on the efforts of two puny individuals.
Everything seemed unreal, ghost-like, and suddenly the strangeness ofit all came over Talbot and he felt afraid. The noiseless engine madescarcely a sound; the distant rumble of gunfire sounded like low andmuttering thunder. They had come by way of Tucson so as to pick up aten-gallon tube of concentrated explosive gas at the military camp inthe Tucson mountains.
"This gas," the general had assured them, "has been secretly developedby the chemical branch of the War Department and is more powerful thanTNT or nitro-glycerin. It is odorless, harmless to breathe and explodedby a wireless-radio device."
He had showed them how to manipulate the radio device, and explainedthat in the metal tube was a tiny chamber from which gas could notescape, and a receiving-detonating cap. "If you can introduce the tubeinto the underground galleries where you suspect the enemy'sheadquarters to be, allow the contents to escape for ten minutes, and amile distant you can blow the mine and all in it to destruction. Andyou needn't be afraid of anything escaping alive," he had added grimly.
Talbot thought of his words as the dark and silent world slid by. Heglanced at the luminous dial of his wrist-watch. Eleven-fifteen. Themoon rose at eleven-twenty-four. He studied the map. High over MountLemmon the craft soared. He touched the army pilot's arm. "All right,"he said, "throttle her down." Their speed decreased. "Lower."
Swiftly they sank, until the dark bulk of hills and trees lay blacklybeneath; so near as to seem within the touch of a hand. Though hestrained his ears, no alien sound came wafting upward. "Keep circlinghere," he directed the pilot. "The moon'll be up in a minute and thenwe can be sure of where we are." The pilot nodded. He was a phlegmaticyoung man. Not once during the trip had he uttered a word.
The east glowed as if with red fire. Many a time before had Talbotwatched the moon rise, but never under stranger circumstances. Now thenight was illuminated with mellow glory. "Hit the nail on the head," hewhispered. "Do you see that spot over there? To the left, yes. Can youland us there?"
Without a word the pilot swung for the clearance. It was a close thing,requiring delicate maneuvering, and only an auto-gyroscope could havemade it without crashing. Hurriedly Manuel and Talbot unloaded theirgear.
"All right," said Talbot to the pilot. "No need to wait for us. If weare successful, we'll send out the wireless signal agreed on, and if wearen't...." He shrugged his shoulders. "But tell the General to be sureand allow us the time stipulated on before undertaking another attack."
Standing there on the bleak hillside, watching the auto-gyroscope runahead for a few yards and then take the air, Talbot experienced afeeling of desolation. Now he and Manuel were alone, cut off from theirown kind by barriers of impregnable jungle. And yet on that lonelyhillside there were no signs of an enemy. For a moment he wondered ifhe weren't asleep, dreaming; if he wouldn't soon awake to find that allthis was nothing but a nightmare.
But Manuel gathering up the tools aroused him from such thoughts. Notwithout difficulty were the necessary things conveyed to the abandonedmine back of the old Wiley claim. Their course lay along the bottom ofa dry creek, over a ridge, and so to the shaft half-way down the sideof a hill. A second trip had to be made to bring the gas tube.
It was two o'clock in the morning when Manuel stood at the foot of thefour-hundred-foot hole and signaled up that the air was good. Talbotlowered the tools to him, and the gas container, and lastly went downhimself. As already stated, Talbot had explored the undergroundworkings of the mine not eighteen months before. Picking out the maintunnel and keeping a close watch for rattlers with electric torches,the two men went cautiously ahead. In places earth had fallen and hadto be cleared away, but the formation for the most part was a soft rockand shale. They went slowly, for fear of starting slides.
At a spot taking an abrupt turn--and it was here that the newer tunnelhad broken through into the older gallery of the Wiley claim--Manuelcaught swiftly at Talbot's arm. "What is that?" To straining ears camethe unmistakable throb of machinery. They snapped off their torches andcrouched in Stygian darkness. Not a ray of light was to be seen. Talbotknew that in following the ore stratum, the Wiley gallery took severaltwists. Laboriously he and Manuel advanced with the gas tube. It wasstiflingly close. He counted the turns, one, two, three. Now the roarof machinery was a steady reverberation that shook the tunnel. Hewhispered to Manuel:
"Go back and wait for me at the mouth of the shaft. Only one of us mustrisk taking the gas tube any nearer the enemy. Here, take my watch. Itis now two-forty-five. If I don't rejoin you by four o'clock touch offthe explosive."
Manuel started to protest. "Do as I say," commanded Talbot. "The fateof the world is at stake. Give me an hour; but no longer--remember!"
Left alone in the clammy darkness Talbot wiped the sweat from his face.Grabbing one end of the rope sling in which the tube was fastened, hepulled it ahead. There was a certain amount of unavoidable noise; rockrattled, earth fell; but he reasoned shrewdly enough that the roar ofthe machinery would drown this. Beyond a crevice created by a cave-inhe saw an intense light play weirdly. He squirmed through the creviceand pulled the tube after him.
His mind reconstructed the mine ahead. He recollected that when thelead of this mine had petered out, the owners had begun to sink theshaft deeper into the earth before abandoning the mine. This meant thatthe foot of the shaft, with the addition of an encroaching twenty feetof the southern gallery, was deeper by some several yards than thefloor of the tunnel in which he stood. Here was the logical place toset the gas tube, nose pointed ahead.
With trembling fingers he loosened the screwed-in nose of the tube witha wrench. A slight hiss told of the deadly gas's escape. It wouldinevitably flow towards the shaft, drawn by the slight suction ofmachinery, following the easiest direction of expansion. Now Talbot'swork was done, and if he had immediately retreated all would have beenwell, but the weird light fascinated him. Here he was, one man in thebowels of earth pitting his strength, his ingenuity against somethingincredible, unbelievable. Beings from an atomic universe, from a worldburied within the atom; beings attacking his own earth with uncannymethods of destruction. Oh, it was impossible, absurd, but he must lookat them, he must see.
Talbot gasped. Almost at once he observed the birds, twelve of them,two standing in front of what appeared to be a great square of polishedcrystal, wearing metal caps and goggles, heads cocked forward intently.The others also perched in front of odd machines like graven images.That was the uncanny thing about the birds: they appeared to be doingnothing. Only the occasional jerk of a head, the filming of a hardgolden eye, gave them a semblance of life. But, none the less, therecould be no mistaking the fact that they were the guiding, thedirecting geniuses back of all the pulsing, throbbing mechanisms.
Half mesmerized by the sight, forgetful of time and place, Talbotleaned forward in awe. There was a great funnel, a shallow cabinet, andout of the cabinet poured an intense reddish beam, and out of thebeam....
It was a minute before he understood, and then comprehension came tohim. Those dark spots shooting from the cabinet, no larger than peas,were the mysterious drifting globes whose scattered seed was fastcovering miles of Arizonian soil with
The Seed of the Toc-Toc Birds Page 4
