Bride of Osiris

by Otis Adelbert Kline

  After they had visited the busy-bazaar they circled through a beautiful portion of the residence district and came before the magnificent Temple of Re. While the giant Odd was conversing with one of the guards at the gate, who appeared to be an old friend, two men in blue costumes of slaves showed their numbers and passed through. Buell, who was standing several feet behind Odd, caught his breath sharply as he saw that one of the men was Dan Rafferty.

  “Dan,” he cried, “what are you doing here?”

  “Hist!” Dan waited until his companion had gone on ahead. “I just learnt that yer girl is in the Temple of Isis. She’s going to marry——”

  Buell felt a tug at the chain that circled his waist. A deep voice boomed in his ear.

  “Come, N. We will visit the Temple of Re. Do not debase yourself by talking to mere slaves. Remember that you are soon to be a god.”

  Buell scarcely noticed the marvelous gardens, the wandering vestal virgins, yellow-robed priests and blue-clad slaves. The richly and artistically designed temple which would ordinarily have aroused his interest and admiration elicited only absent-minded “yes’s” and “oh’s” as Odd enthusiastically pointed out this or that object of reverence and related the history of the building.

  When they had passed out into the garden and were headed for the gate once more, Buell said, “There are other temples in Karneter, I presume.”

  “Only two. The Temples of Osiris and Isis.”

  “Are we to visit them?”

  “You have already been in the Temple of Osiris. In fact that is where we are quartered. You did not see the grounds and gardens because we left through an underground passageway. The Hall of the Two Truths where judgment was passed on you is the main room in the Temple of Osiris. It is always kept in darkness, the only light coming from the throne itself or the eye above it when the mighty Osiris is present to dispense justice.”

  “And the Temple of Isis?”

  “It is some distance from here. Would you prefer to visit it today, or seek rest and refreshment now and leave it for another day?”

  Buell did not want to appear overanxious. On the other hand, he certainly didn’t want to pass up a chance to learn where Doris was quartered and catch sight of her if possible—perhaps converse with her.

  “Let’s clean up this round of the temples today,” he said. “It will give us more time for rest and study tomorrow.”

  “Good. This way, then.”

  CHAPTER 11

  THE MAN IN THE DUNGEON

  BACK at their quarters in the power house, Rafferty and Seboul, in company with a number of other blue-clad slaves of the Department of Electricity, partook of a hearty meal consisting of stewed beef and mushrooms, date bread, and black Arabian coffee. The Irishman was surprized to learn that everything, even the beef, had been grown in Karneter.

  “We have pastures and fattening pens in the south end of the city,” explained Seboul. “As for mushrooms, there are none produced in the upper world that can compare with ours in size, excellence of flavor or vigor of growth.”

  After the meal the men rose and filed past a guard who noted their numbers and handed assignments to each. Rafferty read the neatly typed order on the strip of papyrus given him:

  “Go to shaft seventy-four, guided by Seboul, and repair power circuit.”

  He turned to his comrade, who was engaged in deciphering his own order.

  “Where is this shaft sivventy-four?” he asked.

  Seboul shook his head.

  “It’s a bad place to work in,” he replied. “The deepest of the new safety shafts in Karneter. If there is something wrong with the power circuit it means that it is rapidly filling with water, for they can’t do much in that shaft with the hand-pumps. We must go quickly.”

  They picked up their tool kits and hurried out, following the same street they had taken that morning. To his surprize, Rafferty noticed that Seboul was again leading him to the Temple of Re.

  “Haven’t yez got yer wires crossed, lad?” he asked.

  Seboul looked puzzled.

  “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.”

  “Ain’t yez headin’ wrong? This is where we just came from.”

  “Shaft seventy-four is beneath the dungeons which are under the Temple of Re,” explained Seboul.

  They were stopped at the gate as before, and again at the pillared temple portico. Then the surly, yellow-robed priest who had been their guide that morning, conducted them to the rear of the temple, where Rafferty looked slyly about with the hope of seeing Delra, the vestal virgin. They descended a flight of winding stairs. Then the priest took them through an enormous basement in which were great quantities of canned and dried food and casks and bottles of wine. At the head of another stairway he halted.

  “Follow these stairs to the third level below this,” he said. “Then take the A passageway which leads to the main corridor of the top dungeon, follow it to the central stairway and descend thence to the seventh level, where you will find workmen who will direct you to the proper shaft.”

  “Mebby we better make a note av it,” suggested Dan.

  “That isn’t necessary,” replied Seboul. “Come. I will guide you.”

  They descended to the third level as directed, and Dan saw that the thing was not quite so complicated as it sounded. Three narrow passageways marked “A,”

  “B,” and “C,” branched out from the foot of the stairs.

  “Faith, it’s simple as A, B, C,” said Rafferty as they entered the A passageway.

  “It isn’t so simple farther down,” replied Seboul, “but we’ll find the way.”

  As they passed along the dimly lighted main corridor of the upper dungeon, Dan noticed the inmates of the cells. All were chained to rings in the walls with metal collars about their necks, just as he and Buell had been chained when they awoke in Karneter.

  At the second level the rays of light grew feebler, and ere they had passed the third they were compelled to use their pocket flashlights. On reaching the fourth level they were confronted by a confusing maze of corridors, cells and passageways. This was the deepest, darkest, and most feared dungeon in Karneter, according to Seboul. Prisoners sentenced to life imprisonment here usually begged for death sentences instead. There was no attempt at sanitation as in the upper dungeons, and vermin were allowed free range. The air was heavy with moisture and reeked with the stench of offal and the decaying bodies of those victims whom death had mercifully removed from this realm of frightfulness. The cells were irregular in form, more like crude caves, and there were no bars across them, though the chains and rings were much heavier and stronger than those which held the prisoners in the upper dungeons. As Rafferty and his companion hurried off down one of the passageways, their flashlights held before them and their handkerchiefs tied over their noses to filter the air they breathed, a dozen huge gray rats, disturbed at their business of devouring an emaciated corpse, showed their teeth and squealed menacingly. Dan caught a glimpse of the face. The lips, cheeks and end of the nose had already been eaten away. A rat was tugging at the blue-white tongue which protruded from the sagging, grinning jaws, while another nibbled hungrily at a glassy, lidless eye. The Irishman shuddered and passed on.

  Suddenly, to his intense surprize, he became aware that Seboul was not with him., His pause, brief though it was, had separated them. Before him lay a half-dozen winding passageways, any one of which his fellow slave might have taken. He waited for a moment, then shrugged his broad shoulders and took the central one. Although it occurred to him to call, he hated to do this, as he did not want his companion to think him afraid, and felt confident that he could make his way alone.

  He had gone but a short distance when he was startled by a sudden tug at his garment and a low voice at his side.

  “Where to, slave? Only empty cells and gnawed bones lie beyond here. Are you lost?”

  He turned and beheld a face that was wrinkled, ugly and emaciated. The prisoner, for such he w
as, as evidenced by the collar and chain, had been horribly mutilated—his right ear cut off and his right eye gouged out. His bony frame protruded here and there through rents in the filthy rags that had evidently once been yellow, and his clawlike hands trembled as he clung to Dan’s garment.

  “Sure and yez guessed it right,” replied Dan, “but don’t claw at me clothes like that. I won’t run away.”

  The man released his hold on Dan’s clothing.

  “Your pardon, friend,” he said. “It’s so long since I’ve seen a human being, other than the masked, voiceless guard who brings my food, that I could not bear to see you leave without a moment’s conversation. Where did you say you were bound for?”

  “Shaft sivventy-four, whatever that may be.”

  “I can direct yon, bnt stay and talk yet a while. The work can wait and you have a good excuse. “

  “They say the damned thing’s fillin’ wid water,” replied Dan. “Tip me off now, and I’ll see yez whin I come back.”

  “Yon promise?”

  “What’re yez tryin’ to do? Make a liar out av me?”

  “Not at all. You appear honest. Go back to the first group of crosspassageways you find. Follow the second one to your right as you leave this one, and you will reach shaft seventy-four.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be back as soon as I get the pumps to workin’.”

  DAN followed the directions of the mutilated prisoner, and was soon traversing the new passageway. He wondered what the fellow wanted of him. Was it merely companionship, or something else? Judging from the color of the rags that hung on his bony frame, the man had once been a priest. He was puzzling over the enigma when a light flashed some distance ahead of him and he heard someone shout, “Baku. Where are you, Baku?”

  A moment passed before he remembered this was the name by which he was to be known in Karneter.

  “Coming, Seboul,” he replied. “Kape yer shirt on.”

  His fellow slave dashed breathlessly up.

  “I have no cause for removing my shirt,” he replied solemnly, “but we must hurry. The shaft is filling rapidly m spite of all the pumps that can be inserted. A score of workmen were drowned just before I arrived.” The two men ran down the passageway. Presently Dan saw lights ahead and heard the murmur of voices. A hundred feet farther on they came to a group of men working excitedly around a concrete-edged hole about fifteen feet in diameter.

  “Here is the master electrician,” shouted Seboul to a tall, beetle-browed man who was evidently an overseer.

  The man looked Dan over.

  “See what’s wrong with that power circuit, and be quick about it,” he ordered.

  A half-dozen groups of slaves were working wildly at as many hand-pumps. The water they pumped out was apparently being forced to a higher level, as the pumps were connected with pipes which pierced the floor above. Disregarding these, Dan hurried to the power pump. He disconnected the two wires which led to the powerful motor and held the ends close together. A jagged spark sputtered across the intervening space.

  “Nothing wrong with the circuit,” he said. “Must be the motor.”

  He examined the wiring underneath, found a loose connection, and had the motor humming in less than five minutes. The futile efforts of the hand-pumping crews were then discontinued and the overseer allowed the exhausted men a few minutes of rest before ordering them to disconnect their pumps.

  Peering over the edge of the shaft, Rafferty saw the water, far below him, sinking steadily. Turning away, he noticed one of the slaves who seemed more exhausted than the others, lying flat on his back. He recognized Ammut, once Samuel Whitford the banker, who had donated a hundred thousand dollars to Mezzar Hashin when he joined hisr followers.

  “What’s the big hole in the ground for?” Rafferty asked Seboul as they stood beside the rapidly humming motor.

  “It is one of the many safety shafts which the High One is sinking at various points in Karneter as a precaution against floods or leaks. At one point the waters of Lake Michigan are kept out only by walls of thick glass. In the event of a flood from that source or from any of the numerous springs which we are constantly damming with concrete, they will act as safety reservoirs for the water, and thus give us ample time to repair the leaks. This shaft is not completed and the workman at the bottom suddenly struck a huge spring. The motor on the power pump failed to work and many of the men were drowned. Their bodies are lying in the passageway across from us now, waiting to be conveyed to the crematory.”

  “Are all bodies burned in Karneter?” inquired Rafferty.

  “No. Only those of slaves or others who can not afford caskets. The bodies of the wealthy are placed in leaden caskets and shot out into the lake with a special device we have for the purpose. The caskets are equipped with planes and propellers which carry them for a stated distance, when they sink to the bottom and are eventually covered by the drifting sand. But we waste time here, and the overseer is observing us. As the motor is now in working order we had best go back and report.”

  “Suits me,” replied Dan. “I sure ain’t crazy about this place.”

  They had traversed the long passageway and arrived at the six-point intersection, Seboul taking the lead as usual, when Rafferty was suddenly reminded of his promise to the imprisoned man. He hated to spend any more time in the stinking dungeon than was absolutely necessary, but being a man of his word, he halted, made sure that his companion had not observed him, and then plunged silently down the passageway which he had previously taken by mistake.

  CHAPTER 12

  THE TEMPLE OF ISIS

  BUELL and Odd, after leaving the Temple of Re, set out in what the former believed was a southerly direction. At least it was southerly by the bearings he took from the artificial sky, and he assumed that this corresponded to the directions in the upper world. If it didn’t, then it would at least suffice for the world he was in.

  They passed through a park, in the center of which stood a large building of black marble which Odd said was the building of civic administration. Thence through a district in which smart shops displayed their wares, and down a broad avenue lined with royal palms and faced on either side by magnificent estates. Odd explained that these were the homes of the more wealthy citizens of Karneter.

  Presently, far down the avenue, Buell descried a beautiful building, Gothic in type, a mass of pointed towers, spires and minarets. In the distance the building looked blue. Buell first ascribed this to the effect of the intervening air or perhaps the reflection of the sky, but as he drew nearer he discovered that it actually was blue—a light robin’s-egg shade, trimmed with ornaments of burnished gold.

  At length they drew up before a golden gate, the high walls on each side of which also were blue.

  “The Temple of Isis,” announced Odd.

  As they approached, Buell had noticed two tall guards before the gate. Now, to his surprize, he saw that they were women—and such women! Neither could have been less than six feet two inches in height, broad of shoulder, full-breasted, and with muscular arms and legs that would have made them formidable antagonists in the boxing ring or on the wrestling mat They were armed, like the guards at the Temple of Re, with a spear and simitar apiece.

  “The N would view the Temple of Isis ere he goes on his long journey,” said Odd, addressing one of the Amazonian guards.

  Leaning her tall spear against the wall, she unfastened the gate and swung it back. As they passed through, Buell noticed that she smiled archly up at his tall companion. It appeared that she was flirting with him, nor did her coyness seem out of place, for although she was a giantess to Buell, she appeared quite dainty and petite when compared to the huge Odd.

  “I see that you have large women in Karneter as well as big men,” remarked Buell.

  “Not many,” Odd replied. “About two hundred of each. The women guard the Temple of Isis and the men the Temple of Osiris.”

  “I had no idea there were so many giants m the world,” sai
d Buell.

  “Perhaps there are not in the upper world,” his guide replied. Our race began here with only a few which Mezzar Hashin the First brought with him from the upper world. But by eugenic marriages, eliminating all individuals who are undersized, we have grown quite rapidly in numbers, for giants. We are fed special rations to keep up our vitality, and in addition, have a medicine mixed with our food at certain intervals, that acts beneficially on our thyroid glands—the real cause of our superior size.”

  “I presume, then, that all of you are more or less related.”

  “That is true. The girls at the gate are both distant cousins of mine.” He sighed. “I suppose that I shall have to marry one of them soon. I dislike the thought of matrimony, but we are only permitted the freedom of a single life up to the age of thirty, and I am now twenty-nine. If I do not choose a suitable mate before that time one will be chosen for me by the scientists.”

  “Are there many men as large as you?”

  “None quite so large,” was the reply. “That is why I was chosen for the post I now occupy. If one of the young men now growing up becomes larger than I his name will be Odd and he will take my place while I will become an officer of the Temple Guards.”

  As was the case with the Temple of Re, the grounds were beautifully landscaped with flowers, trees and shrubbery. Slaves clad in dark blue labored here as in the temple of the sun god, but all were women. Maidens, attired in clinging, light blue garments trimmed with gold, wandered about the grounds gathering flowers and fruits. These, Odd said, were the vestal virgins of Isis. Older and more matronly-appearing women, attired _ in heavier and stiffer garments of the same light shade of blue, but trimmed with silver, and with their heads shaven, so Odd informed Buell, were priestesses of Isis.

  They drew near to the portal of the temple, and Buell saw that it was guarded by more giantesses, some of them fully seven feet in. height. He also observed that tall Amazons were posted at intervals around the walls.