by Various
"_Behold one of those who live in the darkness._"]
The Dark Side of Antri
_By Sewell Peaslee Wright_
Commander John Hanson relates an interplanetary adventure illustrating the splendid Service spirit of the men of the Special Patrol.
An officer of the Special Patrol Service dropped in to see me theother day. He was a young fellow, very sure of himself, and verykindly towards an old man.
He was doing a monograph, he said, for his own amusement, upon theearly forms of our present offensive and defensive weapons. Could Itell him about the first Deuber spheres and the earlier disintegratorrays and the crude atomic bombs we tried back when I first entered theService?
I could, of course. And I did. But a man's memory does not improve inthe course of a century of Earth years. Our scientists have not beenable to keep a man's brain as fresh as his body, despite all theirvaunted progress. There is a lot these deep thinkers, in their greatlaboratories, don't know. The whole universe gives them the credit forwhat's been done, yet the men of action who carried out the ideas--butI'm getting away from my pert young officer.
He listened to me with interest and toleration. Now and then he helpedme out, when my memory failed me on some little detail. He seemed tohave a very fair theoretical knowledge of the subject.
"It seems impossible," he commented, when we had gone over the groundhe had outlined, "that the Service could have done its work with suchcrude and undeveloped weapons, does it not?" He smiled in a superiorsort of way, as though to imply we had probably done the best wecould, under the circumstances.
* * * * *
I suppose I should not have permitted his attitude to irritate me, butI am an old man, and my life has not been an easy one.
"Youngster," I said--like many old people, I prefer spokenconversation--"back in those days the Service was handicapped in everyway. We lacked weapons, we lacked instruments, we lacked popularsupport, and backing. But we had men, in those days, who did theirwork with the tools that were at hand. And we did it well."
"Yes, sir!" the youngster said hastily--after all, a retired commanderin the Special Patrol Service does rate a certain amount of respect,even from these perky youngsters--"I know that, sir. It was theefforts of men like yourself who gave us the proud traditions we haveto-day."
"Well, that's hardly true," I corrected him. "I'm not quite so old asthat. We had a fine set of traditions when I entered the Service, son.But we did our share to carry them on, I'll grant you that."
"'Nothing Less than Complete Success,'" quoted the lad almostreverently, giving the ancient motto of our service. "That is a finetradition for a body of men to aspire to, sir."
"True. True." The ring in the boy's voice brought memories flocking.It was a proud motto; as old as I am, the words bring a thrill evennow, a thrill comparable only with that which comes from seeing oldEarth swell up out of the darkness of space after days of outeremptiness. Old Earth, with her wispy white clouds and her broad seas--Oh, I know I'm provincial, but that is another thing that must beforgiven an old man.
"I imagine, sir," said the young officer, "that you could tell many astrange story of the Service, and the sacrifices men have made to keepthat motto the proud boast it is to-day."
"Yes," I told him. "I could do that. I have done so. That is myoccupation, now that I have been retired from active service. I--"
"You are a historian?" he broke in eagerly.
* * * * *
I forgave him the interruption. I can still remember my own ratherimpetuous youth.
"Do I look like a historian?" I think I smiled as I asked him thequestion, and held out my hands to him. Big brown hands they are,hardened with work, stained and drawn from old acid burns, and thebite of blue electric fire. In my day we worked with crude toolsindeed; tools that left their mark upon the workman.
"No. But--"
I waved the explanation aside.
"Historians deal with facts, with accomplishments, with dates andplaces and the names of great men. I write--what little I do write--ofmen and high adventures, so that in this time of softness and easyliving some few who may read my scribblings may live with me thosedays when the worlds of the universe were strange to each other, andthere were many new things to be found and marveled at."
"And I'll venture, sir, that you find much enjoyment in the work,"commented the youngster with a degree of perception with which I hadnot credited him.
"True. As I write, forgotten faces peer at me through the mists of theyears, and strong, friendly voices call to me from out of thepast...."
"It must be wonderful to live the old adventures through again," saidthe young officer hastily. Youth is always afraid of sentiment in oldpeople. Why this should be, I do not know. But it is so.
The lad--I wish I had made a note of his name; I predict a future forhim in the Service--left me alone, then, with the thoughts he hadstirred up in my mind.
* * * * *
Old faces ... old voices. Old scenes, too.
Strange worlds, strange peoples. A hundred, a thousand differenttongues. Men that came only to my knee, and men that towered ten feetabove my head. Creatures--possessed of all the attributes of menexcept physical form--that belonged only in the nightmare realms ofsleep.
An old man's most treasured possessions: his memories. A face drewclose out of the flocking recollections; the face of a man I had knownand loved more than a brother so many years--dear God, how manyyears--ago.
Anderson Croy. Search all the voluminous records of the beardedhistorians, and you will not find his name. No great figure of historywas this friend of mine; just an obscure officer on an obscure ship ofthe Special Patrol Service.
And yet there is a people who owe to him their very existence.
I wonder if they have forgotten him? It would not surprise me.
The memory of the universe is not a reliable thing.
* * * * *
Anderson Croy was, like most of the officer personnel of the SpecialPatrol Service, a native of Earth.
They had tried to make a stoop-shouldered dabbler in formulas out ofhim, but he was not the stuff from which good scientists are moulded.He was young, when I first knew him, and strong; he had mild blue eyesand a quick smile. And he had a fine, steely courage that a man couldlove.
I was in command, then, of the _Ertak_, my second ship. I inheritedAnderson Croy with the ship, and I liked him from the first time Ilaid eyes upon him.
As I recall it, we worked together on the _Ertak_ for nearly twoyears, Earth time. We went through some tight places together. Iremember our experience, shortly after I took over the _Ertak_, on themonstrous planet Callor, whose tiny, gentle people were attacked bystrange, vapid Things that come down upon them from the fastness ofthe polar cap, and--
But I wander from the story I wish to tell here. An old man's mind isa weak and weary thing that totters and weaves from side to side; likea worn-out ship, it is hard to keep on a straight course.
We were out on one of those long, monotonous patrols, skirting theouter boundaries of the known universe, that were, at that time,before the building of all the many stations we have to-day a dreadedpart of the Special Patrol Service routine.
Not once had we landed to stretch our legs. Slowing up to atmosphericspeed took time, and we were on a schedule that allowed for no wasteof even minutes. We approached the various worlds only close enough toreport, and to receive an assurance that all was well. A dog's life,but part of the game.
* * * * *
My log showed nearly a hundred "All's well" reports, as I remember it,when we slid up to Antri, which was, so far as size is concerned, oneof our smallest ports o' call.
Antri, I might add, for the benefit of those who have forgotten theirmaps of the universe, is a satellite of A-411, which, in turn, is oneof the largest bodies of the
universe, and both uninhabited anduninhabitable. Antri is somewhat larger than the moon, Earth'ssatellite, and considerably farther from its controlling body.
"Report our presence, Mr. Croy," I ordered wearily. "And please askMr. Correy to keep a sharp watch on the attraction meter." These hugebodies such as A-411 are not pleasant companions at space speeds. Afew minute's trouble--space ships gave trouble, in those days--and youmelted like a drop of solder when you struck the atmospheric belt.
"Yes, sir!" There never was a crisper young officer than Croy.
I bent over my tables, working out our position and charting ourcourse for the next period. In a few seconds Croy was back, his blueeyes gleaming.
"Sir, an emergency is reported on Antri. We are to make all possiblespeed, to Oreo, their governing city. I gather that it is veryimportant."
"Very well, Mr. Croy." I can't say the news was unwelcome. Monotonykills young men. "Have the disintegrator ray generators inspected andtested. Turn out the watch below in such time that we may have allhands on duty when we arrive. If there is an emergency, we shall beprepared for it. I shall be with Mr. Correy in the navigating room; ifthere are any further communications, relay them to me there."
* * * * *
I hurried up to the navigating room, and gave Correy his orders.
"Do not reduce speed until it is absolutely necessary," I concluded."We have an emergency call from Antri, and minutes may be important.How long do you make it to Oreo?"
"About an hour to the atmosphere; say an hour more to set down in thecity. I believe that's about right, sir."
I nodded, frowning at the twin charts, with their softly glowinglights, and turned to the television disc, picking up Antri withoutdifficulty.
Of course, back in those days we had the huge and cumbersome discs,their faces shielded by a hood, that would be suitable only for museumpieces now. But they did their work very well, and I searched Antricarefully, at varying ranges, for any sign of disturbances. I foundnone.
The dark portion, of course, I could not penetrate. Antri has oneportion of its face that is turned forever from its sun, and one halfthat is bathed in perpetual light. The long twilight zone wasuninhabited, for the people of Antri are a sun-loving race, and theircities and villages appeared only in the bright areas of perpetualsunlight.
Just as we reduced to atmospheric speed, Croy sent up a message
"The Governing Council sends word that we are to set down on theplatform atop the Hall of Government, the large, square white buildingin the center of the city. They say we will have no difficulty inlocating it."
I thanked him and ordered him to stand by for further messages, ifany, and picked up the far-flung city of Oreo in my television disc.
* * * * *
There was no mistaking the building Croy had mentioned. It stood outfrom the city around it, cool and white, its mighty columns glisteninglike crystal in the sun. I could even make out the landing platform,slightly elevated above the roof on spidery arches of silvery metal.
We sped straight for the city at just a fraction of space speed, butthe hand of the surface temperature gauge crept slowly toward the redline that marked the dangerous incandescent point. I saw that Correy,like the good navigating officer he was, was watching the gauge asclosely as myself, and hence said nothing. We both knew that theAntrians would not have sent a call for help to a ship of the SpecialPatrol Service if there had not been a real emergency.
Correy had made a good guess in saying that it would take about anhour, after entering the gaseous envelope of Antri, to reach ourdestination. It was just a few minutes--Earth time, of course--lessthan that when we settled gently onto the landing platform.
A group of six or seven Antrians, dignified old men, wearing theshort, loosely belted white robes that we found were their universalcostume, were waiting for us at the exit of the _Ertak_, whose sleek,smooth sides were glowing dull red.
"You have hastened, and that is well, sirs," said the spokesman of thecommittee. "You find Antri in dire need." He spoke in the universallanguage, and spoke it softly and perfectly. "But you will pardon mefor greeting you with that which is, of necessity, uppermost in mymind, and in the minds of these, my companions.
"Permit me to welcome you to Antri, and to introduce those who extendthose greetings." Rapidly, he ran through a list of names, and each ofthe men bowed gravely in acknowledgment of our greetings. I have neverobserved a more courteous nor a more courtly people than the Antrians;their manners are as beautiful as their faces.
Last of all, their spokesman introduced himself. Bori Tulber, he wascalled, and he had the honor of being master of the Council--the chiefexecutive of Antri.
* * * * *
When the introductions had been completed, the committee led ourlittle party to a small, cylindrical elevator which dropped us,swiftly and silently, on a cushion of air, to the street level of thegreat building. Across a wide, gleaming corridor our conductors ledus, and stood aside before a massive portal through which ten menmight have walked abreast.
We found ourselves in a great chamber with a vaulted ceiling ofbright, gleaming metal. At the far end of the room was an elevatedrostrum, flanked on either side by huge, intricate masses of statuary,of some creamy, translucent stone that glowed as with some innerlight. Semicircular rows of seats, each with its carved desk,surmounted by numerous electrical controls, occupied all the floorspace. None of the seats was occupied.
"We have excused the Council from our preliminary deliberations,"explained Bori Tulber, "because such a large body is unwieldy. Mycompanions and myself represent the executive heads of the variousdepartments of the Council, and we are empowered to act." He led usthrough the great council chamber, and into an anteroom, beautifullydecorated, and furnished with exceedingly comfortable chairs.
"Be seated, sirs," the Master of the Council suggested. We obeyedsilently, and Bori Tulber stood before, gazing thoughtfully intospace.
* * * * *
"I do not know just where to begin," he said slowly. "You men inuniform know, I presume, but little of this world of ours. I presume Ihad best begin far back.
"Since you are navigators of space, undoubtedly, you are acquaintedwith the fact that Antri is a world divided into two parts; one ofperpetual night, and the other of perpetual day, due to the fact thatAntri revolves but once upon its axis during the course of its circuitof its sun, thus presenting always the same face to our luminary.
"We have no day and night, such as obtain on other spheres. There areno set hours for working nor for sleeping nor for pleasure. Themeasure of a man's work is the measure of his ambition, or hisstrength, or his desire. It is so also with his sleep and with hispleasures. It is--it has been--a very pleasant arrangement.
"Ours is a fertile country, and our people live very long and veryhappily with little effort. We have believed that ours was the nearestof all the worlds to the ideal; that nothing could disturb the peaceand happiness of our people. We were mistaken.
* * * * *
"There is a dark side to Antri. A side upon which the sun never hasshone. A dismal place of gloom, which is like the night upon otherworlds.
"No Antrian has, to our knowledge, ever penetrated this part of Antri,and lived to tell of his experience. We do not even till the landclose to the twilight zone. Why should we, when we have so much fineland upon which the sun shines bright and fair always, save for thetwo brief seasons of rain?
"We have never given thought to what might be on the dark face ofAntri. Darkness and night are things unknown to us; we know of themonly from the knowledge which has come to us from other worlds. Andnow--now we have been brought face to face with a terrible dangerwhich comes to us from that other side of this sphere.
"A people have grown there. A terrible people that I shall not try todescribe to you. They threaten us with slavery, with extinctio
n. Fourara ago (the Antrians have their own system of reckoning time, just aswe have on Earth, instead of using the universal system, based uponthe enaro. An ara corresponds to about fifty hours, Earth time.) wedid not know that such a people existed. Now their shadow is upon allour beautifully sunny country, and unless you can aid us, before otherhelp can reach us, I am convinced that Antri is doomed!"
* * * * *
For a moment not one of us spoke. We sat there, staring at the old manwho had just ceased speaking.
Only a man ripened and seasoned with the passing of years could havestood there before us and uttered, so quietly and solemnly, words suchas had just come from his lips. Only in his eyes could we catch aglimpse of the torment which gripped his soul.
"Sir," I said, and have never felt younger than at that moment, when Itried to frame some assurance to this splendid old man who had turnedto me and my youthful crew for succor, "we shall do what it lieswithin our power to do. But tell us more of this danger whichthreatens.
"I am no man of science, and yet I cannot see how men could live in aland never reached by the sun. There would be no heat, no vegetation.Is that not so?"
"Would that it were!" replied the Master of the Council, bitterly."What you say would be indeed the truth, were it not for the greatriver and seas of our sunny Antri, which bear their heated waters tothis dark portion of our world, and make it habitable.
"And as for this danger, there is little to be said. At some time, menof our country, men who fish, or venture upon the water in commerce,have been borne, all unwillingly, across the shadowy twilight zone andinto the land of darkness. They did not come back, but they were foundthere and despoiled of their menores.
"Somehow, these creatures who dwell in darkness determined the use ofthe menore, and now that they have resolved that they shall rule allthis sphere, they have been able to make their threat clear to us.Perhaps"--and Bori Tulber smiled faintly and terribly--"you would liketo have that message direct from its bearer?"
* * * * *
"Is that possible, sir?" I asked eagerly, glancing around the room."How--"
"Come with me," said the Master of the Council gently. "Alone--for toomany near him excites this terrible messenger. You have your menore?"
"No. I had not thought there would be need of it." The menores ofthose days, it should be remembered, were heavy, cumbersome circletsthat were worn upon the head like a sort of crown, and one did not goso equipped unless in real need of the device. To-day, of course, yourmenores are but jeweled trinkets that convey thought a score of timesmore effectively, and weigh but a tenth as much.
"It is a lack easily remedied." Bori Tulber excused himself with alittle bow and hurried out into the great council chamber, to appearagain in a moment with a menore in either hand.
"Now, if your companions and mine will excuse us for a moment...." Hesmiled around the seated group apologetically. There was a murmur ofassent, and the old man opened a door in the other side of the room.
"It is not far," he said. "I will go first, and show you the way."
* * * * *
He led me quickly down a long, narrow corridor to a pair of steepstairs that circled far down into the very foundation of the building.The walls of the corridor and the stairs were without windows, butwere as bright as noonday from the ethon tubes which were set intoboth ceiling and walls.
Silently we circled our way down the spiral stairs, and silently theMaster of the Council paused before a door at the bottom--a door ofdull red metal.
"This is the keeping place of those who come before the Councilcharged with wrong doing," explained Bori Tulber. His fingers restedupon and pressed certain of a ring of small white buttons in the faceof the door, and it opened swiftly and noiselessly. We entered, andthe door closed behind us with a soft thud.
"Behold one of those who live in the darkness," said the Master of theCouncil grimly. "Do not put on the menore until you have a grip uponyourself: I would not have him know how greatly he disturbs us."
I nodded, dumbly, holding the heavy menore dangling in my hand.
I have said that I have beheld strange worlds and strange people in mylife, and it is true that I have. I have seen the headless people ofthat red world Iralo, the ant people, the dragon-fly people, theterrible carnivorous trees of L-472, and the pointed heads of a peoplewho live upon a world which may not be named. But I have still to seea more terrible creature than that which lay before me now.
* * * * *
He--or it--was reclining upon the floor, for the reason that he couldnot have stood. No room save one with a vaulted ceiling such as thegreat council chamber, could offer room enough for this creature towalk erect.
He was, roughly, a shade better than twice my height, yet I believe hewould have weighed but little more. You have seen rank weeds that havegrown up in the darkness to reach the sun; if you can imagine a manwho had done likewise, you can, perhaps, picture that which I sawbefore me.
His legs at the thigh were no larger than my arm, and his arms werebut half the size of my wrist, and jointed twice instead of but once.He wore a careless garment of some dirty yellow, shaggy hide, and hisskin, revealed on feet and arms and face, was a terrible, bloodlesswhite; the dead white of a fish's belly. Maggot white. The white ofsomething that had never known the sun.
The head was small and round, with features that were a caricature ofman's. His ears were huge, and had the power of movement, for theycocked forward as we entered the room. The nose was not prominentlyarched, but the nostrils were wide, and very thin, as was his mouth,which was faintly tinged with dusky blue, instead of healthy red. Atone time his eyes had been nearly round, and, in proportion, verylarge. Now they were but shadowy pockets, mercifully covered byshrunken, wrinkled lids that twitched but did not lift.
* * * * *
He moved as we entered, and from a reclining position, propped up onthe double elbows of one spidery arm, he changed to a sitting positionthat brought his head nearly to the ceiling. He smiled sickeningly,and a queer, sibilant whispering came from the bluish lips.
"That is his way of talking," explained Bori Tulber. "His eyes, youwill note, have been gouged out. They cannot stand the light; theyprepared their messenger carefully for his work, you'll see."
He placed his menore upon his head, and motioned me to do likewise.The creature searched the floor with one white, leathery hand, andfinally located his menore, which he adjusted clumsily.
"You will have to be very attentive," explained my companion. "Heexpresses himself in terms of pictures only, of course, and his is nota highly developed mind. I shall try to get him to go over the entirestory for us again, if I can make him understand. Emanate nothingyourself; he is easily confused."
I nodded silently, my eyes fixed with a sort of fascination upon thecreature from the darkness, and waited.
* * * * *
Back on the _Ertak_ again. I called all my officers together for aconference.
"Gentlemen," I said, "we are confronted with a problem of such gravitythat I doubt my ability to describe it clearly.
"Briefly, this civilized, beautiful portion of Antri is menaced by aterrible fate. In the dark portion of this unhappy world there live apeople who have the lust of conquest in their hearts--and the means athand with which to wreck this world of perpetual sunlight.
"I have the ultimatum of this people direct from their messenger. Theywant a terrible tribute in the form of slaves. These slaves would haveto live in perpetual darkness, and wait upon the whims of the mostmonstrous beings these eyes of mine have ever seen. And the number ofslaves demanded would--as nearly as I could gather, mean about a thirdof the entire population. Further tribute in the form of sufficientfood to support these slaves is also demanded."
"But, in God's name, sir," burst forth Croy, his eyes blazing, "bywhat mea
ns do they, propose to inforce their infamous demands?"
"By the power of darkness--and a terrible cataclysm. Their wisemen--and it would seem that some of them are not unversed inscience--have discovered a way to unbalance this world, so that theycan cause darkness to creep over this land that has never known it.And as darkness advances, these people of the sun will be utterlyhelpless before a race that loves darkness, and can see in it likecats. That, gentlemen, is that fate which confronts this world ofAntri!"
* * * * *
There was a ghastly silence for a moment, and then Croy, alwaysimpetuous, spoke up again.
"How do they propose to do this thing sir?", he asked hoarsely.
"With devilish simplicity. They have a great canal dug nearly to thegreat polar cap of ice. Should they complete it, the hot waters oftheir seas will be liberated upon this vast ice field, and the warmwaters will melt it quickly. If you have not forgotten your lessons,gentlemen, you will remember, since most of you are of Earth, that ourscientists tell us our own world turned over in much this samefashion, from natural means, and established for itself new poles. Isthat not true?"
Grave, almost frightened nods travelled around the little semicircleof white, thoughtful faces.
"And is there nothing, sir, that we can do?" asked Kincaide, my secondofficer, in an awed whisper.
"That is the purpose of this conclave: to determine what may be done.We have our bombs and our rays, it is true, but what is the power ofthis one ship against the people of half a world? And such a people!"I shuddered, despite myself, at the memory of that grinning creaturein the cell far below the floor of the council chamber. "This city,and its thousands, we might save, it is true--but not the whole halfof this world. And that is the task the Council and its Master haveset before us."
* * * * *
"Would it be possible to frighten them?" asked Croy. "I gather thatthey are not an advanced race. Perhaps a show of power--the rays--theatomic pistol--bombs-- Call it strategy, sir, or just plain bluff. Itseems the only chance."
"You have heard the suggestion, gentlemen," I said. "Has anyone abetter?"
"How does Mr. Croy plan to frighten these people of the darkness?"asked Kincaide, who was always practical.
"By going to their country, in this ship, and then letting events taketheir course," replied Croy promptly. "Details will have to be settledon the spot, as I see it."
"I believe Mr. Croy is right," I decided. "The messenger of thesepeople must be returned to his own kind; the sooner the better. He hasgiven me a mental map of his country; I believe that it will bepossible for me to locate the principal city, in which his rulerlives. We will take him there, and then--may God aid us gentlemen."
"Amen," nodded Croy, and the echo of the word ran from lip to lip likethe prayer it was. "When do we start?"
I hesitated for just an instant.
"Now," I brought forth crisply. "Immediately. We are gambling with thefate of a world, a fine and happy people. Let us throw the dicequickly, for the strain of waiting will not help us. Is that as youwould wish it, gentlemen?"
"It is, sir!" came the grave chorus.
"Very well. Mr. Croy, please report with a detail of ten men, to BoriTulber, and tell him of our decision. Bring the messenger back withyou. The rest of you, gentlemen, to your stations. Make anypreparations you may think advisable. Be sure that every availableexterior light is in readiness. Let me be notified the moment themessenger is on board and we are ready to take off. Thank you,gentlemen!"
* * * * *
I hastened to my quarters and brought the _Ertak's_ log down to theminute, explaining in detail the course of action we had decided upon,and the reasons for it. I knew, as did all the _Ertak's_ officers whohad saluted so crisply, and so coolly gone about the business ofcarrying out my orders, that we would return from our trip to the darkside of Antri triumphant or--not at all.
Even in these soft days, men still respect the stern, proud motto ofour service: "Nothing Less Than Complete Success." The Special Patroldoes what it is ordered to do, or no man returns to present excuses.That is a tradition to bring tears of pride to the eyes of even an oldman, in whose hands there is strength only for the wielding of a pen.And I was young, in those days.
It was perhaps a quarter of an hour when word came from the navigatingroom that the messenger was aboard, and we were ready to depart. Iclosed the log, wondering, I remember, if I would ever make anotherentry therein, and, if not, whether the words I had just inscribedwould ever see the light of day. The love of life is strong in men soyoung. Then I hurried to the navigating room and took charge.
Bori Tulber had furnished me with large scale maps of the daylightportion of Antri. From the information conveyed to me by the messengerof the people of darkness--the Chisee they called themselves, asnearly as I could get the sound--I rapidly sketched in the map of theother side of Antri, locating their principal city with a small blackcircle.
Realising that the location of the city we sought was onlyapproximate, we did not bother to work out exact bearings. We set the_Ertak_ on her course at a height of only a few thousand feet, and setout at low atmospheric speed, anxiously watching for the dim line ofshadow that marked the twilight zone, and the beginning of whatpromised to be the last mission of the _Ertak_ and every man shecarried within her smooth, gleaming body.
* * * * *
"Twilight zone in view, sir," reported Croy at length.
"Thank you, Mr. Croy. Have all the exterior lights and searchlightsturned on. Speed and course as at present, for the time being."
I picked up the twilight zone without difficulty in the televisiondisc, and at full power examined the terrain.
The rich crops that fairly burst from the earth of the sunlit portionof Antri were not to be observed here. The Antrians made no effort totill this ground, and I doubt that it would have been profitable to doso, even had they wished to come so close to the darkness they hated.
The ground seemed dank, and great dark slugs moved heavily upon itsgreasy surface. Here and there strange pale growths grew inpatches--twisted, spotted growths that seemed somehow unhealthy andpoisonous.
I searched the country ahead, pressing further and further into theline of darkness that was swiftly approaching. As the light of the sunfaded, our monstrous searchlights cut into the gloom ahead, theirgreat beams slashing the shadows.
In the dark country I had expected to find little if any vegetablegrowth. Instead, I found that it was a veritable jungle through whicheven our searchlight rays could not pass.
How tall the growths of this jungle might be, I could not tell, yet Ihad the feeling that they were tall indeed. They were not trees, thesepale, weedy arms that reached towards the dark sky. They were soft andpulpy, and without leaves; just long naked sickly arms that dividedand subdivided and ended in little smooth stumps like amputated limbs.
That there was some kind of activity within the shelter of this weirdjungle, was evident enough, for I could catch glimpses, now and thenof moving things. But what they might be, even the searching eye ofthe television disc could not determine.
* * * * *
One of our searchlight beams, waving through the darkness like thecurious antenna of some monstrous insect, came to rest upon a spot farahead. I followed the beam with the disc, and bent closer, to makesure my eyes did not deceive me.
I was looking at a vast cleared place in the pulpy jungle--a clearedspace in the center of which there was a city.
A city built of black, sweating stone, each house exactly like everyother house: tall, thin slices of stone, without windows, chimneys orornamentation of any kind. The only break in the walls was theslit-like door of each house. Instead of being arranged along streetscrossing each other at right angles, these houses were built inconcentric circles broken only by four narrow streets then ran fromthe open space in the cen
ter of the city to the four points of thecompass. Around the entire city was an exceedingly high wall built ofand buttressed with the black, sweating stone of which the houses wereconstructed.
That it was a densely populated city there was ample evidence.People--they were creatures like the messenger; that the Chisee are apeople, despite their terrible shape, is hardly debatable--wererunning up and down the four radial streets, and around the curvedconnecting streets, in the wildest confusion, their double-elbowedarms flung across their eyes. But even as I watched, the crowd thinnedand melted swiftly away, until the streets of the queer, circular citywere utterly deserted.
* * * * *
"The city ahead is not the one we are seeking, sir?" asked Croy, whohad evidently been observing the scene through one of the smallertelevision discs. "I take it that governing city will be farther inthe interior."
"According to my rather sketchy information, yes." I replied."However, keep all the searchlight operators busy, going over very bitof the country within the reach of their beams. You have men on allthe auxiliary television discs?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Any findings of interest should be reported to me instantly.And--Mr. Croy!"
"Yes, sir?"
"You might order, if you will, that rations be served all men at theirposts." Over such country as this, I felt it would be wise to haveevery man ready for an emergency. It was, perhaps, as well that Iissued this order.
It was perhaps half an hour after we had passed the circular citywhen, far ahead, I could see the pale, unhealthy forest thinning out.A half dozen of our searchlight beams played upon the denuded area,and as I brought the television disc to bear I saw that we wereapproaching a vast swamp, in which little pools of black waterreflected the dazzling light of our searching beams.
Nor was this all. Out of the swamp a thousand strange, winged thingswere rising: yellowish, bat-like things with forked tails and fiercehooked beaks. And like some obscene miasma from that swamp, they roseand came straight for the _Ertak_!
* * * * *
Instantly I pressed the attention signal that warned every man on theship.
"All disintegrator rays in action at once!" I barked into thetransmitter. "Broad beams, and full energy. Bird-like creatures, deadahead; do not cease action until ordered!"
I heard the disintegrator ray generators deepen their notes before Ifinished speaking, and I smiled grimly, turning to Correy.
"Slow down as quickly and as much as possible, Mr. Correy," I ordered."We have work to do ahead."
He nodded, and gave the order to the operating room; I felt theforward surge that told me my order was being obeyed, and turned myattention again to the television disc.
The ray operators were doing their work well. The search lights showedthe air streaked with fine siftings of greasy dust, and these strangewinged creatures were disappearing by the scores as the disintegratorrays beat and played upon them.
But they came on gamely, fiercely. Where there had been thousands,there were but hundreds ... scores ... dozens....
There were only five left. Three of them disappeared at once, but thetwo remaining came on unhesitatingly, their dirty yellow bat-likewings flapping heavily, their naked heads outstretched, and hookedbeaks snapping.
One of them disappeared in a little sifting of greasy dust, and thesame ray dissolved one wing of the remaining creature. He turned oversuddenly, the one good wing flapping wildly, and tumbled towards thewaiting swamp that has spawned him. Then, as the ray eagerly followedhim, the last of that hellish brood disappeared.
"Circle slowly, Mr. Correy," I ordered. I wanted to make sure therewere none of these terrible creatures left. I felt that nothing soterrible should be left alive--even in a world of darkness.
* * * * *
Through the television disc I searched the swamp. As I had halfsuspected, the filthy ooze held the young of this race of things:grub-like creatures that flipped their heavy bodies about in theslime, alarmed by the light which searched them out.
"All disintegrator rays on the swamp," I ordered. "Sweep it frommargin to margin. Let nothing be left alive there."
I had a well trained crew. The disintegrator rays massed themselvesinto a marching wall of death, and swept up and down the swamp as aplough turns its furrows.
It was easy to trace their passage, for behind them the swampdisappeared, leaving in its stead row after row of broad, dusty paths.When we had finished there was no swamp: there was only a naked areaupon which nothing lived, and upon which, for many years, nothingwould grow.
"Good work," I commended the disintegrator ray men. "Cease action."And then, to Correy, "Put her on her course again, please."
* * * * *
An hour went by. We passed several more of the strange, damp circularcities, differing from the first we had seen only in the matter ofsize. Another hour passed, and I became anxious. If we were on ourproper course, and I had understood the Chisee messenger correctly, weshould be very close to the governing city. We should--
The waving beam of one of the searchlights came suddenly to rest.Three or four other beams followed it--and then all the others.
"Large city to port, sir!" called Croy excitedly.
"Thank you. I believe it is our destination. Cut all searchlightsexcept the forward beam. Mr. Correy!"
"Yes, sir."
"You can take her over visually now, I believe. The forwardsearchlight beam will keep our destination in view for you. Set herdown cautiously in the center of the city in any suitable place.And--remain at the controls ready for any orders, and have theoperating room crew do likewise."
"Yes, sir," said Correy crisply.
With a tenseness I could not control, I bent over the hoodedtelevision disc and studied the mighty governing city of the Chisee.
* * * * *
The governing city of the Chisee was not unlike the others we hadseen, save that it was very much larger, and had eight spoke-likestreets radiating from its center, instead of four. The protectivewall was both thicker and higher.
There was another difference. Instead of a great open space in thecenter of the city, there was a central, park-like space, in themiddle of which was a massive pile, circular in shape, and built, likeall the rest of the city, of the black, sweating rock which seemed tobe the sole building material of the Chisee.
We set the _Ertak_ down close to the big circular building, which weguessed--and correctly--to be the seat of government. I ordered thesearchlight ray to be extinguished the moment we landed, and the ethontubes that illuminated our ship inside to be turned off, so that wemight accustom our eyes as much as possible to darkness, finding ourway about with small ethon tube flashlights.
With a small guard, I stood at the forward exit of the _Ertak_ andwatched the huge circular door back out on its mighty threads, andfinally swing to one side on its massive gimbals. Croy--the onlyofficer with me--and I both wore our menores, and carried fullexpeditionary equipment, as did the guard.
The Chisee messenger, grimacing and talking excitedly in his sibilant,whispering voice, crouched on all fours (he could not stand in thatsmall space) and waited, three men of the guard on either side of him.I placed his menore on his head and gave him simple, forceful orders,picturing them for him as best I could:
"Go from this place and find others of your kind. Tell them that wewould speak to them with things such as you have upon your head. Runswiftly!"
"I will run," he conveyed to me, "to those great ones who sent me." Hepictured them fleetingly. They were creatures like himself, save thatthey were elaborately dressed in fine skins of several pale colors,and wore upon their arms, between their two elbows, broad circlets ofcarved metal which I took to be emblems of power or authority, sincethe chief of them all wore a very broad band. Their faces were muchmore intelligent than their messenger had led me to expect, a
nd theireyes, very large and round, and not at all human, were the eyes ofthoughtful, reasoning creatures.
* * * * *
Doubled on all fours, the Chisee crept through the circular exit, andstraightened up. As he did so, from out of the darkness a score ormore of his fellows rushed up, gathering around him, and blocking theexit with their reedy legs. We could hear than talking excitedly inhigh-pitched, squeaky whispers. Then, suddenly I received anexpression from the Chisee who wore the menore:
"Those who are with me have come from those in power. They say one ofyou, and one only, is to come with us to our big men who will learn,through a thing such as I wear upon my head, that which you wish tosay to them. You are to come quickly; at once."
"I will come," I replied. "Have those with you make way--"
A heavy hand fell upon my shoulder; a voice spoke eagerly in my ear:
"Sir, you must not go!" It was Croy, and his voice shook with feeling."You are in command of the _Ertak_; she, and those in her need you.Let me go! I insist, sir!"
I turned in the darkness, quickly and angrily.
"Mr. Croy," I said swiftly, "do you realize that you are speaking toyour commanding officer?"
* * * * *
I felt his grip tighten on my arm as the reproof struck home.
"Yes, sir," he said doggedly. "I do. But I repeat that your dutycommands you to remain here."
"The duty of a commander in this Service leads him to the place ofgreatest danger, Mr. Croy," I informed him.
"Then stay with your ship, sir!" he pleaded, craftily. "This may besome trick to get you away, so that they may attack us. Please! Can'tyou see that I am right, sir?"
I thought swiftly. The earnestness of the youngster had touched me.Beneath the formality and the "sirs" there was a real affectionbetween us.
In the darkness I reached for his hand; I found it and shook itsolemnly--a gesture of Earth which it is hard to explain. It meansmany things.
"Go, then, Andy," I said softly. "But do not stay long. An hour at thelongest. If you are not back in that length of time, we'll come afteryou, and whatever else may happen, you can be sure that you will bewell avenged. The _Ertak_ has not lost her stinger."
"Thank you, John," he replied. "Remember that I shall wear my menore.If I adjust it to full power, and you do likewise, and stand withoutthe shelter of the _Ertak's_ metal hull, I shall be able tocommunicate with you, should there be any danger." He pressed my handagain, and strode through the exit out into the darkness, which waslit only by a few distant stars.
The long, slim legs closed in around him; like a pigmy guarded by theskeletons of giants he was led quickly away.
* * * * *
The minutes dragged by. There was a nervous tension on the ship, thelike of which I have experienced not more than a dozen times in all myyears.
No one spoke aloud. Now and again one man would matter uneasily toanother; there would be a swift, muttered response, and silence again.We were waiting--waiting.
Ten minutes went by. Twenty. Thirty.
Impatiently I paced up and down before the exit, the guards at theirposts, ready to obey any orders instantly.
Forty-five minutes. I walked through the exit; stepped out onto thecold, hard earth.
I could see, behind me, the shadowy bulk of the _Ertak_. Before me, ablack, shapeless blot against the star-sprinkled sky, was the greatadministrative building of the Chisee. And in there, somewhere, wasAnderson Croy. I glanced down at the luminous dial of my watch. Fiftyminutes. In ten minutes more--
"John Hanson!" My name reached me, faintly but clearly, through themedium of my menore. "This is Croy. Do you understand me?"
"Yes," I replied instantly. "Are you safe?"
"I am safe. All is well. Very well. Will you promise me now to receivewhat I am about to send, without interruption?"
"Yes," I replied, thoughtlessly and eagerly. "What is it?"
* * * * *
"I have had a long conference with the chief or head of the Chisee,"explained Croy rapidly. "He is very intelligent, and his people aremuch further advanced than we thought.
"Through some form of communication, he has learned of the fight withthe weird birds; it seems that they are--or were--the most dreaded ofall the creatures of this dark world. Apparently we got the wholebrood of them, and this chief, whose name, I gather, is Wieschien, orsomething like that, is naturally much impressed.
"I have given him a demonstration or two with my atomic pistol and theflashlight--these people are fairly stricken by a ray of lightdirectly in the eyes--and we have reached very favorable terms.
"I am to remain here as chief bodyguard and adviser, of which he hasneed, for all is not peaceful, I gather, in this kingdom of darkness.In return, he is to give up his plans to subjugate the rest of Antri;he has sworn to do this by what is evidently, to him, a very sacredoath, witnessed solemnly by the rest of his council.
"Under the circumstances, I believe he will do what he says; in anycase, the great canal will be filled in, and the Antrians will haveplenty of time to erect a great series of disintegrator ray stationsalong the entire twilight zone, using the broad fan rays to form asolid wall against which the Chisee could not advance even did they,at some future date, carry out their plans. The worst possible resultthen would be that the people in the sunlit portion would have tomigrate from certain sections, and perhaps would have day and night,alternately, as do other worlds.
"This is the agreement we have reached; it is the only one that willsave this world. Do you approve, sir?"
"No! Return immediately, and we will show the Chisee that they cannothold an officer of the Special Patrol as a hostage. Make haste!"
* * * * *
"It's no go, sir," came the reply instantly. "I threatened them first.I explained what our disintegrator rays would do, and Wieschienlaughed at me.
"This city is built upon great subterranean passages that lead to manyhidden exits. If we show the least sign of hostility the work will beresumed on the canal, and, before we can locate the spot, and stop thework, the damage will be done.
"This is our only chance, sir, to make this expedition a completesuccess. Permit me to judge this fact from the evidence I have beforeme. Whatever sacrifice there is to make, I make gladly. Wieschien asksthat you depart at once, and in peace, and I know this is the onlycourse. Good-by, sir; convey my salutations to my other friends uponthe old _Ertak_, and elsewhere. And now, lest my last act as anofficer of the Special Patrol Service be to refuse to obey thecommands of my superior officer, I am removing the menore. Good-by!"
I tried to reach him again, but there was no response.
Gone! He was gone! Swallowed up in darkness and in silence!
* * * * *
Dazed, shaken to the very foundation of my being, I stood therebetween the shadowy bulk of the _Ertak_ and the towering mass of thegreat silent pile that was the seat of government in this strange landof darkness, and gazed up at the dark sky above me. I am not ashamed,now, to say that hot tears trickled down my cheeks, nor that as Iturned back to the _Ertak_, my throat was so gripped by emotion that Icould not speak.
I ordered the exit closed with a wave of my hand; in the navigatingroom I said but four words: "We depart at once."
At the third meal of the day I gathered my officers about me and toldthem, as quickly and as gently as I could, of the sacrifice one oftheir number had made.
It was Kincaide who, when I had finished, rose slowly and made reply.
"Sir," he said quietly, "We had a friend. Some day, he might havedied. Now he will live forever in the records of the Service, in thememory of a world, and in the hearts of those who had the honor toserve with him. Could he--or we--wish more?"
Amid a strange silence he sat down again, and there was not an eyeamong us that was dry.
* * * * *
I hope that the snappy young officer who visited me the other dayreads this little account of bygone times.
Perhaps it will make clear to him how we worked, in those nearlyforgotten days, with the tools we had at hand. They were not theperfect tools of to-day, but what they lacked, we somehow made up.
That fine old motto of the Service, "Nothing Less Than CompleteSuccess," we passed on unsullied to those who came after us.
I hope these youngsters of to-day may do as well.
