by Earl
“Bravo, chief!” exclaimed Milo admiringly.
Then both of them, enervated by the strange lassitude of their reduced metabolism went soundly to sleep.
IV.
WHEN MILO AWOKE, in the darkness, his thoughts were confused. Then he remembered, sighed, and turned on his back, feeling much refreshed. Wide awake, he mused on the strange adventure that had befallen him and his companion.
He heard the professor stir. “Milo, you awake?” came his voice. “Turn on the lights.”
Milo reached for the studs on the end table and twisted one for the walls to let in outside light. They heard the slither of hidden mechanisms, but there was no change in the darkness.
“Must be night out,” said Milo. He twisted the other switch. A soft glow came into being and brightened in imperceptible gradations till it was strong enough to reveal all their surroundings.
“It’s four A.M.,” said Dumont, consulting his watch, which he had carefully wound the night before. “We’ve had plenty of sleep.” Out of curiosity, he felt for his pulse. He was almost alarmed at the slow thudding of his heart.
Milo was at the clothes closet, looking over the selection therein. He dragged out two complete suits of tight-fitting pants, military-cut jackets, and oriental slippers. Valdasc had gauged their sizes pretty well and they were both rather pleased at their appearances in the full-length mirrors against the wall, after they had dressed. They both felt much better than they had the day before and found themselves ravenously hungry.
“All we’ve had to eat since leaving Earth two full days ago is a few sandwiches and some coffee,” grumbled Milo. He jerked the bell cord Valdasc had pointed out. A whir and a click somewhere to the side was followed by the opening of a wall panel. From out of the blank space revealed came a long tray holding several dishes of steaming foods. They were all jellylike substances, but of various colors and flavors, none familiar to their palate.
“Synthetic food of some kind,” said Dumont, dipping a long-handled spoon into one after the other and sampling them. “Mm-m-m; this one’s good.” They ate gratefully.
It was while they were finishing that a knock sounded on the door. Almost immediately it opened. They were surprised to see a stranger enter unceremoniously.
“Ah!” he exclaimed in the usual precise accent. “You are the two surface men.” He bowed just a little. “I am Talscon Kaj-Zan, emissary of our ruler.”
Dumont nodded slightly. “Where is Valdasc Olo-Kwar? Do you bring a message from him?”
“Oh, no,” said the newcomer. “My business is not his business. One question: you will not be returning to your world very soon?”
“We see no possibility of it at present,” replied Dumont. “Unless we can get our gas bag repaired and filled with gas.”
The visitor nodded, smiled secretively, and left as suddenly as he had come in. “Whatever was that all about?” asked Milo, scratching his head.
They mentioned the incident to Valdasc when he and his daughter appeared a few minutes later.
A thoughtful, half-troubled look came into Valdasc’s face. “I just wonder what that means,” he mused to himself. Then, without offering any explanation, he led the way to a levitating corridor which took them upward.
THEY STEPPED OUT finally on a small hanging balcony perched like a crow’s nest high on a tower wall. Milo gasped. They were a thousand feet above the pavement level. From this open point he saw, for the first time, the full extent of the city. It took his remaining breath away.
Like an opium creation of luminescent gossamer, it spread to every direction, glowing in all spectrum hues. The delicate spires and dainty minarets of the city lay washed in the magic glow of moonlight.
Milo sighed, gripped by some nameless ecstasy. It was as unreal as the chimera castles of a dream. He looked up. Hanging low in the sky between the minarets of two tall structures, pale and faintly silvery in the deep gloom, was the full Moon. His eyes wandered around. There were other people on other balconies within range of vision, drinking in the exotic beauty of the night. Plaintive, soul-stirring music wafted at times on the wings of the wind. It was all utterly fantastic. Yet it was all undeniably real. Life here, he reflected, must be lived beautifully, to judge by the glorious surroundings.
Valdasc Olo-Kwar motioned them to cushioned chairs. They all sat down in comfort. “And now,” he said, “I will answer your questions. That is”—he smiled—“if you have any!”
Milo nudged the professor as a signal for him to speak for them both. “First of all,” queried Dumont, “how is if that you can speak our language, if you haven’t had contact with the surface for twelve thousand years?”
“Through two things—radio and telepathy,” answered the bronzed prince. “Before your science discovered and applied radio a few years ago, we did not know your languages, because we received only nonarticulate thought messages. We have telepathy instruments that pick up and amplify thought radiation in quite the same way that radio does electromagnetic vibrations. With a combination of radio and telepathy, it was easy, of course, to learn your Earth languages.”
Dumont made a mental note of the fact that they had radio, with which he could later get in touch with the surface, then asked his next question: “This telepathy? Do you mean you’re able to tell what is going on in the minds of surface people—and of us here?”
Valdasc laughed. “Have no fear. Telepathy is an art. We are not able to read your minds, simply because you have not learned to transmit them properly. It is a function of the subconscious mind and takes much training to develop. Our people can converse with one another by telepathy because they have been so trained, for centuries. However, we would be able to read your thoughts with a telepathy amplifier, which instrument we use to pick up thought messages from the surface.
“It may surprise you to know that we’ve followed Earth’s history, more or less as an amusement, by means of these amplifiers. And also visually, by use of telescopic instruments. For instance, we watched the Egyptian civilization flower through its many dynasties and finally decay. We watched the great Semitic upheaval that centered around Jerusalem. We marched with the Roman Legions, through mind and eye, as they carved out their great empire. After the dismal chaos of the Dark Ages, we followed the rise of science, saw it grow and blossom. We shuddered at the carnage of the World War. And now—there is another war!”
“You know about that?” exclaimed Dumont, half rising to his feet. “What is happening down on the surface? We must know!”
“Please be calm,” admonished Valdasc. “I brought with me a radio receiver, knowing you would be anxious to hear the news.” He extracted a small box from his belt. It had numbered dials on its face and these the sky man twisted slowly. Valdasc finally tuned in a commentator’s voice, clear as a bell.
“LATEST NEWS from the war front. Since the defeat of Britain’s naval fleet in the English Channel yesterday, England is open to invasion. Alliance troops have already been landed on the south coast and are marching inland. The bombing of London is still going on. The Alliance naval fleet is already steaming for the United States Atlantic seaboard. Japan’s armada, after taking over Hawaii, set out for the Pacific coast. South America, now in the hands of the Alliance, will be the starting point of the invasion of the stronger North America, which is now solidly massed against the Alliance.”
Dumont’s face was gray, as Valdasc turned off the voice. “Confound it!” snapped Dumont. “An Alliance victory will mark the end of democracy of any sort. There will be military dictatorship after that, founded on European principles.”
Valdasc Olo-Kwar had the wisdom of ages in his eyes as he said, “We have seen many and many a war from our perch in the sky. But they are only passing phases in the march of events. One must take a philosophic attitude. Viewed from up here, as a supernal god might view it, the history of Earth is a grand sweep toward eventual peace and true civilization. The world below has been a stage spread before our eyes, all pe
ople its actors, all stirring events its acts. We have been able to weigh and ponder and see the workings of fate. We have seen flashes of light in the darkness, ideas and schools of thought that are on the right track. These will grow and one day light the darkness of men’s minds with a supernal brightness, like the rise of the Sun!”
As though he had conjured it up, the Sun rose, sending its first bright beams spearing across the city. Valdasc’s low, even words had a soothing effect on the two men from the surface world. For a moment they caught the grandeur of this age-long watching from the sky. Truly the sky people must feel like gods, floating high above Earth’s turmoil, upheld by some miracle of science.
“Just how,” asked Dumont, “is your city able to float up here in the stratosphere, in defiance of natural laws? And where do you get food, power, and other necessities?”
“It is not a defiance of natural laws,” responded Valdasc. “It is their application. Levitation against gravity is here produced by subtle warpings of what your Einstein calls space time. The terrific power to do this warping comes from utilization of the cosmic rays. The round metal plate on which this city rests, a mile in diameter, is sensitive to cosmic radiation. It absorbs this extragalactic energy and converts it into another energy which, to use a picturesque term, bends space time. Gravity is neutralized. Not completely, however, else we would fly away. Enough gravity drag is left to hold us eternally at this certain height above Earth.
“Food is quite a simple problem. Its elements exist in the very air around us: oxygen, nitrogen and carbon from carbon dioxide. This last is rather rare up here, but exists in collectable quantities. Our robot converters mold these three elements into the molecules of food. What small amounts of other elements are necessary—iron, sodium, calcium, phosphorus, etc.—are formed from the nitrogen atom by transmutation. Robot machines do that for us, also.
These same machines, motivated by the endless energy of cosmic radiation, create for us all metals and materials we need in quantity—aluminum, diamond, silicon, cellulose, etc.—all from the abundant nitrogen of the air. A host of other machines, chemical in nature, fashion these into usable products, such as the clothing we wear, and the building material we need for replacements.”
DUMONT STIRRED and glanced at Milo, filled with conflicting thoughts. What couldn’t this great science do on Earth? At last he asked, “This miraculous science—where and when did it originate? And your race?”
Valdasc’s eyes grew dreamy. “Think of your fable of Atlantis. No, we are not Atlanteans. We are of the Viking race, the race the Atlanteans exiled to the skies. Our race twelve thousand years ago lived in the north, on an island just south of Iceland, called Vikia. The civilizations of Atlantis and Vikia grew up together, both growing mighty in science. A rivalry arose that burst into war. Atlantis, more powerful, set about to destroy Vikia utterly, to have Earth for itself. Doom was inevitable for Vikia.
“Our leaders tried to win a truce. The arrogant Atlanteans, power-mad, would not be merciful. They wanted Earth, all of it. They laughingly told Vikia it could have the sky. Our scientists pondered this and took the only course left—to inhabit the sky! This city was meant to be only the first of many which would dwell forever in the stratosphere. But after this one had been launched, the great catastrophe occurred which sunk Atlantis, and with it Vikia. Thus, of those two great civilizations, only this remains.”
The professor and Milo were deeply stirred by this story of ancient rivalry and war. Dumont was about to ask a further question, when a figure appeared in the tower doorway. It was Talscon Kaj-Zan, suave, smiling secretively. He made a low bow to Valdasc and Daveena and gave courtly nods to the two scientists.
“I have the honor,” he said in silky tones, “of conducting the two surface men to the august presence of our ruler, the Kahn Zimini-Dar, at once.”
Valdasc started. “But I was to bring them myself later——” He broke off and snapped, “I’m coming along, Talscon.”
There was an electrical tension between the two sky men that the scientists could almost feel. Talscon shrugged and led the way. Milo looked questioningly at Daveena, but her eyes were on the floor. A levitating corridor took their entire party swiftly down, to the level where inclosed transportation tubes connected the various buildings. A soundless streamlined car, set in grooved tracks, carried them to the most magnificent building of all, in the center of the city.
Soon they were ushered into a resplendent chamber hung with chains of flashing jewels, which rotated slowly, bathing every corner in rainbow splendor. In the center of the room was an ivory throne, yellow with age. Valdasc, Daveena and Talscon stepped before the aged, wrinkled man seated there, inclined their heads and made a strange, weaving salute with their hands. Then they stepped aside and beckoned the meteorologists forward.
Milo and Dumont stood straight before this ruler of the sky people. They owed him no allegiance and therefore made no obeisance. He did not seem to notice.
“Welcome to Vikia,” droned Kahn Zimini-Dar, in a hesitant English. “You are the first visitors to Vikia in twelve millennia. You are free to stay as long as you wish. Do you like our city?”
“We do,” answered Dumont gravely. “We find your city the most magnificent we have ever seen or imagined. There is nothing like it on the surface world.”
The kahn seemed pleased. Milo nudged Dumont. On the way there he had whispered something in his ear. Dumont went on, “We thank you for your hospitable welcome. However, we should return to our surface world as soon as possible. Our balloon, if repaired and filled with hydrogen gas, would again take us down.”
The aged man on the throne nodded slowly. “Naturally, you wish to return to the world of your birth. We have already investigated the repairing of your balloon. It will take several days to accomplish this. In the meantime, we suggest that you allow us to further entertain you here in our city.” The ruler turned his head toward Valdasc. “Talscon has requested the pleasure of our visitors’ company. Yet I would not deprive you, who first discovered them, your rightful privilege. Therefore, you and Talscon will each be escort of our guests from the lower world on successive days. To-day is your day. Talscon will have to-morrow. It is my wish.”
Valdasc bowed at the command. When he straightened, he shot a glance of suspicion at Talscon. The latter had a look of veiled triumph in his face. Milo already had an instinctive dislike for the man. And when, at the door, Talscon kissed Daveena’s hand in parting, with a lingering grasp. Milo felt his blood churning strangely.
Valdasc was frowning as they left-the palace. Later he became more of the genial host as he and Daveena took the two scientists around the city.
V.
DUMONT AND MILO began to get some insight into the lives of the sky people. Their social system was grounded in aristocracy, but it was of a benevolent sort closely approaching true democracy. The kahn, or king, was more a wise judge than a ruler. It developed that Valdasc OIo-Kwar and Talscon Kaj-Zan were the two next highest authorities in the city kingdom. The “Zan” of Talscon’s name corresponded to “duke.” There were perhaps a hundred other titular families, out of which the kahn appointed his various officials. These took care of affairs of state, while the rest of the “common” people served in all the lesser capacities that ran their unique little kingdom.
With an almost completely mechanized civilization, there was much leisure in Vikia. Wherever they went they found happy, smiling people engaged in various sports and recreations. There was a center of learning, where tremendous stores of telepathic records were available, teaching history, science, general knowledge. There was no money in Vikia. It would have been meaningless where all their resources were practically limitless. There was no open quarreling, fighting, poverty or suffering. A marvelous heritage of medical science had eliminated bacterial disease. Skilled methods of surgery and therapy kept other ailments in check. Their average of life before the final death from old age was one hundred and fifty years.
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br /> The most striking thing about these sky people was their uniformity. Having inbred for twelve thousand years, they were as alike as brothers and sisters in physical appearance. Yet their facial expressions were so sensitive that there was not the monotony one might expect. In a higher ethical plane, there were as essentially varied as the grosser classes of Earth. A rigid system of birth control kept their death rate and birth rate exactly equal.
But the thing that most astounded Dumont and Milo was the giant auditorium wherein a packed audience viewed scenes of Earth’s surface. Some miraculous device mirrored with startling clarity the details of Earthly scenes, with a remarkable magnification that could even reveal faces—faces eighteen and more miles away. Valdasc explained briefly that intricate telescopic devices, equipped to utilize ultra-violet and infra-red rays, were able to pierce the veils of clouds that generally overhung Earth’s surface. There was also a telepathic attachment that gave the watchers a close mental rapport with the scenes viewed. It was a stupendous thing, this spying on a world.
DUMONT AND MILO caught their breath at some of the war scenes. Talscon, the next day, took them before a smaller television projector, in private, and picked up a complete series of war episodes. They saw a wave of invading gray on Britain’s territory engulf the defending brown. There was hand-to-hand fighting, vicious, cruel. A phalanx of wasplike planes battered into a horde of craft flying the Union Jack. Behind lumbered giant bombers, to drop their destructive burdens into the heart of great London. The four-day intermittent bombing had not vet reduced that great city. Antiaircraft guns still spat venomously from camouflaged barricades, bringing down scores of the attacking wasps.
“Talscon,” said Milo suddenly, “why are you showing us all this? Valdasc has always dissuaded us from thinking or talking too much of the war. Why are you doing the opposite?”
