The Sleeper Awakes

by H. G. Wells

  CHAPTER VI

  THE HALL OF THE ATLAS

  From the moment when the tailor had bowed his farewell to the moment whenGraham found himself in the lift, was altogether barely five minutes. Asyet the haze of his vast interval of sleep hung about him, as yet theinitial strangeness of his being alive at all in this remote age touchedeverything with wonder, with a sense of the irrational, with something ofthe quality of a realistic dream. He was still detached, an astonishedspectator, still but half involved in life. What he had seen, andespecially the last crowded tumult, framed in the setting of the balcony,had a spectacular turn, like a thing witnessed from the box of a theatre."I don't understand," he said. "What was the trouble? My mind is in awhirl. Why were they shouting? What is the danger?"

  "We have our troubles," said Howard. His eyes avoided Graham's enquiry."This is a time of unrest. And, in fact, your appearance, your wakingjust now, has a sort of connexion--"

  He spoke jerkily, like a man not quite sure of his breathing. Hestopped abruptly.

  "I don't understand," said Graham.

  "It will be clearer later," said Howard.

  He glanced uneasily upward, as though he found the progress of thelift slow.

  "I shall understand better, no doubt, when I have seen my way about alittle," said Graham puzzled. "It will be--it is bound to be perplexing.At present it is all so strange. Anything seems possible. Anything. Inthe details even. Your counting, I understand, is different."

  The lift stopped, and they stepped out into a narrow but very longpassage between high walls, along which ran an extraordinary number oftubes and big cables.

  "What a huge place this is!" said Graham. "Is it all one building? Whatplace is it?"

  "This is one of the city ways for various public services. Light andso forth."

  "Was it a social trouble--that--in the great roadway place? How are yougoverned? Have you still a police?"

  "Several," said Howard.

  "Several?"

  "About fourteen."

  "I don't understand."

  "Very probably not. Our social order will probably seem very complexto you. To tell you the truth, I don't understand it myself veryclearly. Nobody does. You will, perhaps--bye and bye. We have to go tothe Council."

  Graham's attention was divided between the urgent necessity of hisinquiries and the people in the passages and halls they were traversing.For a moment his mind would be concentrated upon Howard and the haltinganswers he made, and then he would lose the thread in response to somevivid unexpected impression. Along the passages, in the halls, half thepeople seemed to be men in the red uniform. The pale blue canvas that hadbeen so abundant in the aisle of moving ways did not appear. Invariablythese men looked at him, and saluted him and Howard as they passed.

  He had a clear vision of entering a long corridor, and there were anumber of girls sitting on low seats, as though in a class. He saw noteacher, but only a novel apparatus from which he fancied a voiceproceeded. The girls regarded him and his conductor, he thought, withcuriosity and astonishment. But he was hurried on before he could forma clear idea of the gathering. He judged they knew Howard and nothimself, and that they wondered who he was. This Howard, it seemed, wasa person of importance. But then he was also merely Graham's guardian.That was odd.

  There came a passage in twilight, and into this passage a footway hung sothat he could see the feet and ankles of people going to and fro thereon,but no more of them. Then vague impressions of galleries and of casualastonished passers-by turning round to stare after the two of them withtheir red-clad guard.

  The stimulus of the restoratives he had taken was only temporary. He wasspeedily fatigued by this excessive haste. He asked Howard to slacken hisspeed. Presently he was in a lift that had a window upon the great streetspace, but this was glazed and did not open, and they were too high forhim to see the moving platforms below. But he saw people going to and froalong cables and along strange, frail-looking bridges.

  Thence they passed across the street and at a vast height above it. Theycrossed by means of a narrow bridge closed in with glass, so clear thatit made him giddy even to remember it. The floor of it also was of glass.From his memory of the cliffs between New Quay and Boscastle, so remotein time, and so recent in his experience, it seemed to him that theymust be near four hundred feet above the moving ways. He stopped, lookeddown between his legs upon the swarming blue and red multitudes, minuteand foreshortened, struggling and gesticulating still towards the littlebalcony far below, a little toy balcony, it seemed, where he had sorecently been standing. A thin haze and the glare of the mighty globes oflight obscured everything. A man seated in a little openwork cradle shotby from some point still higher than the little narrow bridge, rushingdown a cable as swiftly almost as if he were falling. Graham stoppedinvoluntarily to watch this strange passenger vanish below, and then hiseyes went back to the tumultuous struggle.

  Along one of the faster ways rushed a thick crowd of red spots. Thisbroke up into individuals as it approached the balcony, and went pouringdown the slower ways towards the dense struggling crowd on the centralarea. These men in red appeared to be armed with sticks or truncheons;they seemed to be striking and thrusting. A great shouting, cries ofwrath, screaming, burst out and came up to Graham, faint and thin. "Goon," cried Howard, laying hands on him.

  Another man rushed down a cable. Graham suddenly glanced up to see whencehe came, and beheld through the glassy roof and the network of cables andgirders, dim rhythmically passing forms like the vanes of windmills, andbetween them glimpses of a remote and pallid sky. Then Howard had thrusthim forward across the bridge, and he was in a little narrow passagedecorated with geometrical patterns.

  "I want to see more of that," cried Graham, resisting.

  "No, no," cried Howard, still gripping his arm. "This way. You must gothis way." And the men in red following them seemed ready to enforcehis orders.

  Some negroes in a curious wasp-like uniform of black and yellow appeareddown the passage, and one hastened to throw up a sliding shutter thathad seemed a door to Graham, and led the way through it. Graham foundhimself in a gallery overhanging the end of a great chamber. Theattendant in black and yellow crossed this, thrust up a second shutterand stood waiting.

  This place had the appearance of an ante-room. He saw a number ofpeople in the central space, and at the opposite end a large andimposing doorway at the top of a flight of steps, heavily curtained butgiving a glimpse of some still larger hall beyond. He perceived whitemen in red and other negroes in black and yellow standing stiffly aboutthose portals.

  As they crossed the gallery he heard a whisper from below, "The Sleeper,"and was aware of a turning of heads, a hum of observation. They enteredanother little passage in the wall of this ante-chamber, and then hefound himself on an iron-railed gallery of metal that passed round theside of the great hall he had already seen through the curtains. Heentered the place at the corner, so that he received the fullestimpression of its huge proportions. The black in the wasp uniform stoodaside like a well-trained servant, and closed the valve behind him.

  Compared with any of the places Graham had seen thus far, this secondhall appeared to be decorated with extreme richness. On a pedestal at theremoter end, and more brilliantly lit than any other object, was agigantic white figure of Atlas, strong and strenuous, the globe upon hisbowed shoulders. It was the first thing to strike his attention, it wasso vast, so patiently and painfully real, so white and simple. Save forthis figure and for a dais in the centre, the wide floor of the place wasa shining vacancy. The dais was remote in the greatness of the area; itwould have looked a mere slab of metal had it not been for the group ofseven men who stood about a table on it, and gave an inkling of itsproportions. They were all dressed in white robes, they seemed to havearisen that moment from their seats, and they were regarding Grahamsteadfastly. At the end of the table he perceived the glitter of somemechanical appliances.

  Howard led him along the end gallery until they
were opposite this mightylabouring figure. Then he stopped. The two men in red who had followedthem into the gallery came and stood on either hand of Graham.

  "You must remain here," murmured Howard, "for a few moments," and,without waiting for a reply, hurried away along the gallery.

  "But, _why_--?" began Graham.

  He moved as if to follow Howard, and found his path obstructed by one ofthe men in red. "You have to wait here, Sire," said the man in red.

  "_Why_?"

  "Orders, Sire."

  "Whose orders?"

  "Our orders, Sire."

  Graham looked his exasperation.

  "What place is this?" he said presently. "Who are those men?"

  "They are the lords of the Council, Sire."

  "What Council?"

  "_The_ Council."

  "Oh!" said Graham, and after an equally ineffectual attempt at the otherman, went to the railing and stared at the distant men in white, whostood watching him and whispering together.

  The Council? He perceived there were now eight, though how the newcomerhad arrived he had not observed. They made no gestures of greeting; theystood regarding him as in the nineteenth century a group of men mighthave stood in the street regarding a distant balloon that had suddenlyfloated into view. What council could it be that gathered there, thatlittle body of men beneath the significant white Atlas, secluded fromevery eavesdropper in this impressive spaciousness? And why should he bebrought to them, and be looked at strangely and spoken of inaudibly?Howard appeared beneath, walking quickly across the polished floortowards them. As he drew near he bowed and performed certain peculiarmovements, apparently of a ceremonious nature. Then he ascended the stepsof the dais, and stood by the apparatus at the end of the table.

  Graham watched that visible inaudible conversation. Occasionally, one ofthe white-robed men would glance towards him. He strained his ears invain. The gesticulation of two of the speakers became animated. Heglanced from them to the passive faces of his attendants.... When helooked again Howard was extending his hands and moving his head like aman who protests. He was interrupted, it seemed, by one of thewhite-robed men rapping the table.

  The conversation lasted an interminable time to Graham's sense. His eyesrose to the still giant at whose feet the Council sat. Thence theywandered to the walls of the hall. It was decorated in long paintedpanels of a quasi-Japanese type, many of them very beautiful. Thesepanels were grouped in a great and elaborate framing of dark metal,which passed into the metallic caryatidae of the galleries, and thegreat structural lines of the interior. The facile grace of these panelsenhanced the mighty white effort that laboured in the centre of thescheme. Graham's eyes came back to the Council, and Howard wasdescending the steps. As he drew nearer his features could bedistinguished, and Graham saw that he was flushed and blowing out hischeeks. His countenance was still disturbed when presently he reappearedalong the gallery.

  "This way," he said concisely, and they went on in silence to a littledoor that opened at their approach. The two men in red stopped on eitherside of this door. Howard and Graham passed in, and Graham, glancingback, saw the white-robed Council still standing in a close group andlooking at him. Then the door closed behind him with a heavy thud, andfor the first time since his awakening he was in silence. The floor,even, was noiseless to his feet.

  Howard opened another door, and they were in the first of two contiguouschambers furnished in white and green. "What Council was that?" beganGraham. "What were they discussing? What have they to do with me?" Howardclosed the door carefully, heaved a huge sigh, and said something in anundertone. He walked slantingways across the room and turned, blowing outhis cheeks again. "Ugh!" he grunted, a man relieved.

  Graham stood regarding him.

  "You must understand," began Howard abruptly, avoiding Graham's eyes,"that our social order is very complex. A half explanation, a bareunqualified statement would give you false impressions. As a matter offact--it is a case of compound interest partly--your small fortune, andthe fortune of your cousin Warming which was left to you--and certainother beginnings--have become very considerable. And in other ways thatwill be hard for you to understand, you have become a person ofsignificance--of very considerable significance--involved in theworld's affairs."

  He stopped.

  "Yes?" said Graham.

  "We have grave social troubles."

  "Yes?"

  "Things have come to such a pass that, in fact, it is advisable toseclude you here."

  "Keep me prisoner!" exclaimed Graham.

  "Well--to ask you to keep in seclusion."

  Graham turned on him. "This is strange!" he said.

  "No harm will be done you."

  "No harm!"

  "But you must be kept here--"

  "While I learn my position, I presume."

  "Precisely."

  "Very well then. Begin. Why _harm_?"

  "Not now."

  "Why not?"

  "It is too long a story, Sire."

  "All the more reason I should begin at once. You say I am a person ofimportance. What was that shouting I heard? Why is a great multitudeshouting and excited because my trance is over, and who are the men inwhite in that huge council chamber?"

  "All in good time, Sire," said Howard. "But not crudely, not crudely.This is one of those flimsy times when no man has a settled mind. Yourawakening--no one expected your awakening. The Council is consulting."

  "What council?"

  "The Council you saw."

  Graham made a petulant movement. "This is not right," he said. "I shouldbe told what is happening."

  "You must wait. Really you must wait."

  Graham sat down abruptly. "I suppose since I have waited so long toresume life," he said, "that I must wait a little longer."

  "That is better," said Howard. "Yes, that is much better. And I mustleave you alone. For a space. While I attend the discussion in theCouncil.... I am sorry."

  He went towards the noiseless door, hesitated and vanished.

  Graham walked to the door, tried it, found it securely fastened in someway he never came to understand, turned about, paced the room restlessly,made the circuit of the room, and sat down. He remained sitting for sometime with folded arms and knitted brow, biting his finger nails andtrying to piece together the kaleidoscopic impressions of this first hourof awakened life; the vast mechanical spaces, the endless series ofchambers and passages, the great struggle that roared and splashedthrough these strange ways, the little group of remote unsympathetic menbeneath the colossal Atlas, Howard's mysterious behaviour. There was aninkling of some vast inheritance already in his mind--a vast inheritanceperhaps misapplied--of some unprecedented importance and opportunity.What had he to do? And this room's secluded silence was eloquent ofimprisonment!

  It came into Graham's mind with irresistible conviction that this seriesof magnificent impressions was a dream. He tried to shut his eyes andsucceeded, but that time-honoured device led to no awakening.

  Presently he began to touch and examine all the unfamiliar appointmentsof the two small rooms in which he found himself.

  In a long oval panel of mirror he saw himself and stopped astonished. Hewas clad in a graceful costume of purple and bluish white, with a littlegreyshot beard trimmed to a point, and his hair, its blackness streakednow with bands of grey, arranged over his forehead in an unfamiliar butpleasing manner. He seemed a man of five-and-forty perhaps. For a momenthe did not perceive this was himself.

  A flash of laughter came with the recognition. "To call on old Warminglike this!" he exclaimed, "and make him take me out to lunch!"

  Then he thought of meeting first one and then another of the few familiaracquaintances of his early manhood, and in the midst of his amusementrealised that every soul with whom he might jest had died many score ofyears ago. The thought smote him abruptly and keenly; he stopped short,the expression of his face changed to a white consternation.

  The tumultuous memory of the moving platfo
rms and the huge facade of thatwonderful street reasserted itself. The shouting multitudes came backclear and vivid, and those remote, inaudible, unfriendly councillors inwhite. He felt himself a little figure, very small and ineffectual,pitifully conspicuous. And all about him, the world was--_strange_.