Collected Tales (Jerry eBooks)

by Leslie F Stone

  l Three months passed by, and now it was discovered that mankind grew no more. The average height for men was found to be seven feet three inches, the average height for women, three inches under seven feet. Of course there were exceptions to the rule, and it was nothing to see a man a good foot taller than his fellows, women a foot shorter. It was decided that the last morsel of the meteor swarm had been eaten up by the sun, and man could depend upon it that he would not be subjected to any further changes.

  But what about the world around him? Except for the animals that had grown in proportion to himself, man found his world rather cramped. Already the work of building bigger, wider homes was going on, furniture was being made to fit his increased proportions, automobile manufacturers were already meeting the demands for larger, roomier cars; and in the downtown sections of cities, contractors were already busy tearing down old and not-so-old office buildings that were to be replaced by taller, finer, more modem edifices.

  Actually, the disease of world giantism had proven a benefit to mankind. With business at a standstill at its offset, there was a new activity in all its branches, and even those businesses not affected directly, felt the boom and profited by general conditions. Of course, people realized that once the new demand was supplied, business would settle into its old routine, but that did not matter, since for the first time in many years old debts were to be paid, moritoriums lifted, back taxes picked up, mortgages canceled.

  It was the farmers who were more directly affected than the rest of the population, and they had reason to believe that their prosperity would continue. With his increased size, man’s appetite had grown accordingly.

  Thus, the coming of the meteor swarm was in itself a great blessing to mankind, a cosmic joke that had boomeranged upon itself, so that it was now man’s turn to laugh and enjoy the humor to its fullest capacity.

  THE END

  [*] Such a cloth is being experimented with in England, and is to be put on the market shortly. It is claimed to be both wrinkleless and easy to fit, since one suit will fit any size.

  The Man with Four Dimensional Eyes

  l Science-fiction fans have always liked stories of other dimensions—they stimulate vivid imagination more than any other type of fantasy story, and yet they are based upon logical theories and sound science.

  However, you have not seen many stories of this type in WONDER STORIES during the past year or so because our new policy demands that stories be brand new, and most of the fourth-dimensional tales that we have received have been so nearly like others that have been published during the past decade, we would not even consider them.

  But here, at last, is a really original story of the Other World, co-existent with ours, yet unperceived by any of our senses.

  Leslie F. Stone, one of the top-notchers in science-fiction, hereby adds one of the brightest feathers to her literary cap. If you like this story well enough, as we are sure you will, a sequel will be forthcoming.

  l Professor Emmett Gaylor looked up from his figures with a scowl. Who in the world was knocking at his door? Few persons ever came to disturb him in the finely equipped laboratory set up for him by young Gordon Fellows in a small building on the edge of the Fellows’ estate.

  A physicist of not very much renown, Gaylor had had reason to wonder in the “first place at his patron’s interest in him. A year before, following the publishing of Gaylor’s short paper concerning his theories upon hyper-space in an obscure scientific periodical, young Fellows had sought him out, offering him this excellent workshop and an unlimited supply of money with which to carry out his experiments. For that the youthful millionaire had merely asked that the scientist send his secretary a monthly report upon his progress.

  Not once in all this time had Gaylor seen Fellows, although his various demands for money for equipment were supplied without question. And he had dwelt in comfort such as he had never known before, in a cottage a hundred yards or so from the laboratory, administrated by a most efficient man-servant. But it was over six months since he had had a caller, and that one had been a farm-equipment salesman who had lost his way.

  Grunting now with disgust at the interruption to his toil, Gaylor drew himself to his feet and shuffled to the door. He was not the type of man one could place in any set category; nondescript of hair, eyes and features, stoop-shouldered with a narrow esthete face and a small puny body, the scientist could have fitted a half-dozen different walks of life, as schoolteacher, bookkeeper, or clerk. His most interesting features, oddly enough, were his hands, thin, narrow-tipped, hands capable of working with the most delicate precision instruments.

  Turning the key in the lock of the laboratory’s only entrance (Gaylor always locked it), he blocked the doorway with his slender five-feet four body, peering nearsightedly into the shadows of the vestibule.

  “Who’s there? What do you wish?” he demanded in a high rasping voice.

  The answering voice was as dry and meticulous as his own. “It’s Mr. Fellows, Professor. He desires to see your apparatus.” It was Jan Darrow, the millionaire’s secretary who answered. And at the mention of his patron’s name, the professor became obsequious, bobbing his head servilely as he stepped aside to allow the pair passage into the chamber.

  “Come in, come in—this is indeed a pleasure, Mr. Fellows.”

  As he spoke, he was eyeing the young man who was entering, one hand resting on the elbow of the secretary. Gordon Fellows was a handsome young man, standing four inches over six feet, with the beautifully proportioned body of an athlete. Bronzed by the sun, his lean face topped by black hair and pierced by dark eyes gave one the impression of an Indian, an impression that was heightened by an unsmiling stolid stoicism that was his habitual expression. As on that first visit when Fellows had come to him, Gaylor wondered at his interest in hyperspace, what it portended. Perhaps, now, he was to learn.

  Gordon Fellows was saying: “Thank you, Professor Gaylor; I trust that everything here has been to your liking—that you’ve not wanted for anything?”

  “Oh, no—indeed no. You’ve been most generous, Mr. Fellows, most generous.”

  “Good!” stated the other with little enthusiasm, but his voice brightened as he said, “I’ve come to see your apparatus. I understand you have successfully completed it!”

  Gaylor shook his head. “Oh, not completed. Really, it is in its crudest state. Actually, the work is only begun. We, know that the second dimension of width is at right angles to the first dimension of length, and therefore the third dimension, breadth, is necessarily at right angles to both. Going further we say that the fourth dimension is simply a figure at right angles to the first three, in other words, the extension of. . . .”

  “Enough, professor; you’ve explained that to us already. I seem to have misunderstood, however. Your report stated that you’d succeeded in transmitting a rabbit into hyper-space and. . . . ” Fellows’ voice was sharp, blamefully accusing, but Gaylor had interrupted him.

  “Oh, that. . . . Why yes, I have translated a living rabbit into hyper-space, but that is actually only the beginning. There is much to be accomplished before the experiment can be called complete. I . . .”

  “I’m not interested in further details, professor,” stated the millionaire somewhat peevishly. “You will be so kind as to procure a rabbit and Mr. Darrow and myself shall watch you repeat your experiment. . . .”

  Suddenly apprehensive, Gaylor scurried about to carry out his patron’s orders, a violent trembling seizing him as he plucked a rabbit from one of the small rooms built into one side of the chamber. He was deeply fearful that his wealthy host was ready to call an end to the work, deprive him of the laboratory when his work was just about to bear fruit. “I could kill him for that,” he averred to himself vehemently.

  Glancing sidelong at the man standing straight and stiff in the center of the floor, he deposited the frightened bunny into the large glass receptacle of the machine that half-filled one end of the room. One wall
supported a large control bank covered with dials, levers, wheels, switches, meters with innumerable wires that connected in turn to a heavy cable that crossed the floor to the tall glass chamber, eight feet high, that was bell-shaped standing on a low platform a foot from the floor, four-feet square. It was on this platform that the scientist placed the rabbit, lowering the bell over it by means of a crank.

  Nervously,. Gaylor turned to Fellows and the secretary. “As you see, I have placed the animal in the chamber. According to my report, I. . . .”

  “Wait. . . .” It was Fellows speaking. “I want to see if you’ve placed the chamber exactly as I directed. Darrow. . . .” He had turned to the secretary, and as if in speaking his name he had given him explicit directions, Darrow walked toward the chamber in which the rabbit was placidly hopping about, its pink nose wiggling inquisitively. But Darrow did not walk alone. With him went Fellows, a hand upon the secretary’s elbow.

  l And there, for the first time, Gaylor understood that odd stolid expression in the youthful black eyes—the unseeing eyes of the blind! For Gordon Fellows, the millionaire, was blind!

  As they reached the receptacle, Darrow stepped aside, and Gaylor saw by the feeling hands that his sudden assumption was correct. Fellows was using hands instead of eyes.

  Then the sharp voice of the young man called out. “Professor!”

  Gaylor hastened to his side. “Yes, Mr. Fellows. Is something wrong?”

  “You’ve failed to carry out my instructions, Professor. According to the placement of this chamber, the rabbit will materialize within a stone wall—as your previous animal did. You must move the chamber at least a foot north. . . .”

  Gaylor’s mouth fell agape. He recalled those original directions given him by the secretary. He stammered. “I—er—found this position better for my work, sir. I’m sorry if. . . .” As he spoke he was looking wildly from millionaire to secretary.

  Darrow spoke. “You must do as Mr. Fellows recommends, Professor. He knows of what he is speaking. . . .”

  “But I do not understand. He—he talks of a stone wall as if—as if. . . .”

  “Go on with the experiment, please. That is, after the receptacle is moved. Darrow, give the professor a hand, if you will. . . .”

  Pulling and pushing, the two men strained to shove the bell into the new place indicated by the blind man. Several times they paused while Gaylor looked to his cable, gazed at his dials to make certain nothing was disturbed. At last the chamber was in the indicated spot.

  Again Gaylor looked to Fellows, hoping for an explanation, but the young man was gazing unseeingly into space. It was Darrow who gave the sign for the experiment to commence, and the physicist turned a switch that activated hidden motors into a wild pulsation, filling the room with their steady, high-powered roar.

  At the control bank, Gaylor anxiously toyed with several controls, twisting a wheel here, tripping that lever, bird-like turning from one dial to another to catch their readings. Only once he glanced at the bell, giving a contented little sigh as he saw that a deep mist filled the inside, obscuring the walls that enclosed the rabbit. Again there was the twirling of a wheel, the release of several levers and the inside of the chamber cleared, revealing its emptiness. The rabbit had disappeared, dissolved into nothingness.

  Rubbing his hands together, Gaylor spoke. “It is done, Mr. Fellows. As you—er—see, the rabbit is gone. Is that not correct, Mr. Darrow. . . .?”

  But it was Fellows who answered. “Ah, it is a success. The little beast now stands in a bright sun-kissed garden, entirely unperturbed by his experience. He nibbles a blade of grass. What a pretty little creature he is!

  “Excellent, professor; your experiment is undoubtedly a success, a complete success!” His tones rang with triumph, as if the experiment were his own.

  Gaylor gulped something down his throat, looking frightenedly from Fellows to Darrow and back again. What was the man talking about? Was his patron, perchance, out of his head. . . .?

  He dared not show that he doubted the other’s sanity. “I’m glad that you find everything—er—satisfactory, Mr. Fellows. Of course, as I’ve explained, the work is but half completed. Even now I’m at work oft a four dimensional screen whereby I hope to ‘look through’—to determine the real success. As far as I know, I may only have succeeded in inventing a dissolving ray, you know, and I . . . .”

  “The machine is a real success, professor, as I’ve already told you. I am quite satisfied. Tell me, Darrow—the receptacle is sufficiently large enough to contain a man—is of the dimensions I ordered?”

  “It is, sir, exactly.”

  “Good! You will now carry out the instructions I have given you, Darrow. Professor—do not touch a thing—leave it exactly as it is—you understand? Do not touch a thing.”

  Professor Emmett Gaylor was worried. “You mean, Mr. Fellows, that I’m not to go on—not to complete. . . . “His voice was complaining, pitifully so.

  “What you do afterward—means nothing to me. I have bequeathed this laboratory and all it contains to you—with a substantial sum to be placed in trust for your future work. You will see Darrow about that, but for the present, sir, I insist that nothing is to be touched until. . . .”

  “Until?”

  “Until—I ‘go through’ !”

  “You—go—through. . . .? Good heavens, man, surely you do not intend to—to follow the rabbit?”

  Fellows nodded his head. “I do. Just as soon as such effects as I shall require are brought here. I shall need them on the other side, you know, for They use money—jewels—‘over there’. . . .”

  “Oh, no. No, Mr. Fellows, you daren’t do that.” Gaylor was suddenly panicky, fearful that the man really intended carrying out his plan. “Why, even if it is true that I’ve succeeded in translating the rabbit into hyper-space, you don’t know what you’ll find there. Besides, sir, there’s no means of returning. If you go ‘through’ you’re marooned—you won’t get back. . . .” As he spoke, the little scientist was appealing with his eyes for Darrow to interfere, to aid him in preventing the young millionaire from taking this wild step.

  “I don’t care about that,” declared Fellows. “You see, I have no intention of coming back. . . .”

  “Not coming back—but, Mr. Fellows, that’s—that’s like suicide. Oh, Mr. Darrow, help me! Convince Mr. Fellows that this is a crazy, irrational idea. Why—why I won’t permit it. I can’t. I—I refuse to be party to this wild scheme!”

  l Drawing himself to his full height, Fellows demanded, “Do I understand that you would prevent me from doing what I desire?—that you would not work the controls, professor?”

  “I do!” emphatically.

  A sigh escaped the young man. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to tell you the entire story. Possibly, you won’t believe me—few people do. I resolved once never to speak of it again to anyone, but you must be my ally, along with Jan Darrow. Come, let’s sit down somewhere. Might as well be comfortable while I tell you the story of my eyes. . . .”

  “Your eyes, Mr. Fellows?” queried Gaylor when the three were seated to the best of the laboratory’s capacity. “You are blind. . . .?

  “NO!” declared the man explosively. “Unseeing as far as the people and objects of this world, but blind—no!”

  Gaylor fidgeted uncomfortably, half guessing at what the other was about to say next. “You mean, Mr. Fellows, that there is another world—which you do see?”

  Fellows nodded. “I mean just that. Doctors told my parents that I was blind—from birth. Every test proved that I was stone blind to the things of this sphere. My parents spent fortunes trying to give me sight, but they never succeeded, for I already had sight!

  “Even as I sit here, I am gazing into this other Place, Professor Gaylor. It appears to me that we sit in a woodland, beside a small stone building that contains a power generator used to carry motion beams through the air. The machinery is wholly automatic, having no need of human supervision. Hal
f a mile away I can just see through the trees a house of low rambling walls, small round towers, long wide window, open to sun and breeze. . . .”

  Unconsciously, as Fellows was speaking, Gaylor had twisted about so as to look through the laboratory windows. Half a mile away lay the Fellows’ mansion, a huge imposing building of gray stone, in imitation of some English castle, its roof parapeted, its narrow casemented windows reminding him of a man with close-set eyes.

  Fellows was continuing. “Some freak of nature has. given me the power to see into this strange world, attuning my eyes to its form and shape while denying me the right to see that of my own natural world. That, professor, has been my life—moving in one world, seeing in another!”

  The professor did not answer immediately. He was thoughtfully turning this information over in his mind. At last he spoke. “Your description, Mr. Fellows, bears out my contentions concerning hyper-space. It has long been my belief that two objects can and do occupy the same spot, that the fourth dimension is simply an extension of matter into the realm of invisibility, that frugal nature is not content with having produced one type of life, but hurries on to fill the same place with another. Assuming as we do that the atomic and electronic structure of all matter, be it organic or inorganic, is identical, as, for instance, this piece of wood is composed of the same atoms as the skin composing my hands, differing only in appearance and quality because of the manner in which the protons and electrons are ‘hooked’ together, it is reasonable to suppose that two different objects whose atoms are hooked together differently again, can and do occupy the same space at the same time. It is likely, also, that telescopic vision has been given you, permitting you to see this ‘other’ arrangement of particles ordinarily invisible to the rest of us.”