by Earl
“Sorry, Helena, I had to do it,” Scott said.
Shock faded from Helena’s face. “You had to do it,” she agreed. “He’ll get over it. He has all the data he needs, to publish a paper. And Koro’s body as proof. And some day he’ll realize we were right. I’m sure he will. It was just his scientific zeal and the wrong viewpoint on the Little Folk.”
They smiled down at the Little Folk, arm in arm. Atho and Elva, also arm in arm, smiled back. That one thing the race of giants and race of midgets had in common, if nothing else.
“Will your people be safe in a new place soon?” Scott asked.
Atho nodded. “They are migrating now. By tomorrow, there will be no trace of them.”
Scott strode to the door and opened it. The Little Folk leaped to the floor and followed as he opened the door leading out into the still, calm night. Like scampering kittens, the little people melted into shadow, capering in their sheer delight.
And faintly, the two Big People seemed to hear the tinkle of fairy horns and the laughter of tiny voices, under the soft full moon. . . .
[*] The persistent legends of all races of the existence of such creatures as fairies, gnomes, dwarfs, and similar little people indicate that a great basis of fact must certainly underlie them. No more romantic stories have ever been told than these legends of little people. That such a race exists, or has existed, can hardly be doubted. Nor can it be reasonably said that they do not exist today. It reality, the world is still a vast unexplored place, wherein many strange things exist, unknown to man. How else can we explain many of the mysterious things we all can relate as true experiences? How else explain some of the mysteries revealed by the late Charles Fort? Perhaps someday concrete evidence of the existence of a race of little people will be revealed.—Ed.
THE NEW LIFE
Lon and Mirna fight the evil civilization of the Twenty-Second Century for a right to happiness—for theirs is a forbidden love; but escape from the Air Patrol brings them into the capture of a mysterious ship, not of this world, where hooded men carefully guard a hundred kidnapped women!
CHAPTER I
RACE THROUGH SPACE
“I’M GOING to try it!”
Lips set, chin firm, the girl who had spoken those words pulled hard on the control stick to send the tiny airship upward at a steep angle. Her hand gave the throttle an almost savage tug. Then she swung her eyes backward and down.
The young man beside her also looked for the pursuit they hoped would not be there.
But the girl pilot could not neglect her course and had to tear her eyes to the front. Ahead and above was the Fifth Level, bounded by the air-buoys of striped blue-and-white, between which careened a scattered mass of swift aircraft. A moment later their ship eased into the Fifth Level lane.
“Did he follow?” asked the girl tensely, scanning the lane carefully.
“No. At least we’ve shaken him off. But for Jupiter’s sake, Mirna, don’t try to run away from the Air Patrol if they signal halt!”
But the girl could see no blue-and-white moth-shaped airship in the lane, and when they passed an air-buoy, no red stop-beam shot to them.
“You see, Lon, we’ve escaped that too!”
The man said nothing; merely kept a sharp look-out on all sides. He seemed unwilling to admit that they had defied the law and won free.
“Head for Strato-outlet 17,” he said presently. “The sooner we get into a strato-lane, the better.”
It was accomplished in a few minutes. The girl pilot skilfully wormed the ship to the outside edge of the Fifth Level, shot up into the strato-outlet, and then between the bright red-and-white buoys of the strato-lane. The man had already snapped on the artificial air-control and tripped the cabin-sealing lever. When the air engine coughed and died, the girl switched on the rockets. She locked the vanes at dead level, set the blasts at minimum, and sagged limply into the man’s arms.
But only for a moment did she display this exhausted reaction to the tenseness of the past hour. She sat up, dashed a suspicion of tears from her eyes, and smiled.
“So, Lon G. Otis, we’ve foiled the best efforts of my determined father.”
“Then it was your father?”
“Certainly, dear; who else? But this is the first time he has set a—a human bloodhound on my trail.” Anger flared in her dark eyes.
“And it won’t be the last time,” supplied the man. “I’m beginning to get discouraged—”
“Lon!” the girl breathed, shocked. “You—discouraged?”
He turned away from her accusing eyes. “It isn’t that I don’t love you or want you, Mirna. But to have you means defiance of your father, of the law, of the iron-clad social code of today.”
“But I am willing to break the code, and even leave my father—for you!”
The man faced her squarely. “Do you know what that means? It means we would have to become fugitives from law—would have to escape from the city. Let’s face the truth, Mirna. No city of the civilized world—and that’s almost all of it—could be our home; we would be outlaws. We would have to leave civilization and go to some out-of-way corner of the world to live a life of hardship, apart from the rest of earth’s people. Perhaps you don’t quite realize how hard that would be—”
He fell silent. The girl, too, could not speak and turned tear-glistening eyes on the few craft that dashed along the stratolane.
THEY lived in the 22d Century, these lovers whose hopes seemed dashed by the sternness of the social code of their time. The inequalities of the 20th Century had gradually grown to a new, and yet old, caste system among the civilized nations. The money-kings and captains of finance of that previous century had molded the future so that by the end of the next century their wealthy progeny had inherited control of government as well as industry. They had become Royalty. The masses were divided into two classes: brain workers and common laborers.
Not only did the Royal Class of money and power hold the world in its palm, but the original founders had drawn up a social code forbidding marriage between themselves and the two lower classes. Thus they were assured of always having the upper hand. Born in luxury, reared in plenty, living in the purple lap of absolute power, no new and more democratic blood could be instilled to foster a change.
Lon G. Otis was of the second class, a brain-worker; but he used his brain only to the advantage of the Royal Class. That class ordered affairs so that the labors of the masses resulted only in continued power and luxury for the ruling few. He, in common with the majority of his caste, saw the misery of the masses, but was helpless. Yet a disturbing thing had happened to this young engineer. He had seen and fallen in love with a daughter of the upper class. And what was still more calamitous, she had lost her heart to him!
For more than a year these two had been meeting clandestinely to find their mutual love growing instead of passing away. But the girl’s father, a true aristocrat in spirit as well as position, had detected the affair. Their exciting chase through forbidden areas between air-lanes had been a result of the father’s attempt to break up the secret night meetings by setting a spy on his daughter’s trail. They had escaped him by the girl’s daring violation of the air-traffic rules, and had been fortunate in not being apprehended by the strict Air Patrol.
But now a dark future faced them, for both knew the father would resort to more direct methods once he had learned Lon’s identity.
Lon, in his middle twenties, was tall and broad-shouldered. Quick, direct blue eyes in a frank, open face belied the depth of his character. In an earlier age, his qualities would have quickly carved out for him a brilliant career. Here in this restricted age he could not rise higher than he had already reached. He was a willing worker, but there were times when his deepest thoughts seethed with revolt against the iron tyranny of the upper class.
THE girl beside him was radiantly beautiful and not merely through the use of cosmetics. Her surname of Haverton ranked high in the Royal Class. By nature she was
spirited: daring shone from her large brown eyes; vivacity danced in her lithe body.
But tonight she was greatly troubled. Up until this time the hazards of secretly meeting the man she loved had thrilled her rather than bothered her. Now, faced with the gravity of their situation by Lon’s frank speech, she felt the first signs of an oncoming dark cloud that threatened to blot out their future.
“I’m thinking of you more than anything,” said Lon, breaking a long silence. “You would never be happy away from civilization.”
“With you I could!” cried the girl defiantly. “Any life with you would be better than life here in a city without you.”
Lon shook his head.
“It would!” persisted the girl, yet her voice faltered. She was of an intelligence capable of seeing the truth of his words, “We can easily get away from civilization in this very ship.”
“Don’t go on,” said Lon, putting a finger to her lips. “Anyway, what use for us to follow that course when life on earth will be wiped out in a decade or less!” Mirna gasped. “What do you mean?”
“Just what I say. Civilization and human life—all life—are doomed!”
Mirna showed her bewilderment. Lon went on, suddenly facing her and raising his voice. “What do you suppose the changes in normal weather in the past three years have meant? Your people, the aristocrats, refuse to credit it, but the earth is due for a terrible ice-age. An ice-age is a destructive thing. Each previous one wiped out all signs of then-existing civilizations.
“The aristocrats are secure in their life of power and luxury,” he continued bitterly, “but they have no scientists among their ranks to tell them the truth, and they disbelieve the scientists of my caste.”
“Lon, is it really true?” asked the girl. “Couldn’t your scientists be wrong?”
“Hardly. What has been discredited
by the aristocrats has been accepted in my caste now for many months. There are even some who feel glad that royalty, too. must die with us. Even I sometime? feel that way. It almost seems as if the God of all things had put in a finger to end the tyranny that is called civilization today.” He put a hand on the girl’s arm. “I have avoided saying these things to you, Mirna, because I didn’t want to hurt you. My people and the poor slaves of the lower caste have always hated your people. That is why the masses have taken the news of earth’s doom so dispassionately. They feel almost glad—”
“Oh, Lon!” sobbed the girl. “Wretched as conditions have been in the past century, still it is worse to think of that doom over our heads. Isn’t there anything can be done?”
“I’m afraid not, Mirna; it’s inescapable.” They talked of other things then, small things, but their conversation had no spirit. Mirna finally turned the ship about to return to the city. When she had landed at a transport field, she turned to the man.
“Then, Lon, if life is to be so short, let us have our love till the end. Don’t worry”—she went on as he opened his mouth—“about my father. I’ll contrive to escape his watchful eye somehow, and pick you up here on our regular nights together.” She gently pushed him from the cabin, revved the motor and roared away toward the center of the city where the nobility dwelled. Lon turned dejectedly from the field. Despite her loyalty to him, and her buoyancy, he felt that soon their bubble of happiness would burst. Her father would step in soon and end it, beyond the power of either of them to prevent it.
CHAPTER II
TRAILED BY SPIES
MIRNA landed the ship in her father’s private field, turned it over to attendants, and entered the Haverton living quarters. They were the epitome of magnificence and luxury. Soft lights spread a gentle glow over small tinkling fountains, carven ornaments, vases of perfumed flowers and beautiful furniture. But she passed this without a pause. She had known nothing different all her life.
At the door to her chambers she met her father. Stern, arrogantly molded features with an overtone of ruthlessness were his heritage from those Haverton ancestors who had reaped a mighty fortune and come to control all aircraft. He was tall and thin. Cold blue eyes peered from beneath the drawn-together emphasis marks that were his bushy eyebrows.
“Mirna!”
The girl, first faint, drew herself up and stared back defiantly at his heavy frown. “Yes, father?” she said.
“This is the first time I’ve mentioned it, but it has come to my notice that you are engaged in some clandestine affair with a man of the middle class. Is it true?”
The girl flung up her head without answering.
“You bring disgrace on our honored name,” went on the father coldly. “Your mother is fortunate to be in her grave, unknowing of this. You must be insane to betray your class pride. But I shall put an end to it. From now on consider yourself under restraint. I have a guard who will stand before your door and inform me when you wish to leave your rooms. Furthermore, you will no longer be allowed the use of our family aircraft. You have proven yourself untrustworthy, going to the extent of violating traffic rules to escape the person sent by me to catch the culprit who is disgracing our name. Who is that man?”
Mirna pressed her lips tight.
“You will not tell. But I shall find out in other ways. When I do, he will be punished and put in such a position that he can no longer intrude on royal decency.”
Mirna trembled suddenly. But quietly she said, “You will kill your own daughter if you have him put to death.”
Haverton opened his eyes wide. “You little fool!”
“Not me—you!” screamed the girl, losing control. “I love him; you can’t change that. Nor can you end our affair, for the coming doom of earth will soon shake loose all moral codes!”
“Doom of earth! Has that vile, low-caste lover of yours filled your mind with the mad hopes of the ignorant masses?”
“I’d believe him sooner than you,” cried the girl. “And I’m glad—glad, too, as they are, that it must all end—”
“Girl, you are mad!” hissed the angered aristocrat.
Mirna, laughing hysterically, dashed through the doorway into her room and slammed the door. Haverton, his face dark with suppressed anger, made a step as if to follow her, but instead wheeled and strode away.
The doom of the earth that Lon had told the girl about, despite the disregard of the luxury-lulled nobility, was actually in progress. Three years before, the climate of earth had suffered great change. Winters had become severer, summers cooler. Gigantic storms in the tropics had arisen, never before equalled in destruction. Tidal waves of vast proportions had inundated all coasts.
THE scientists, all middle-class workers, A had quickly investigated the cause. The alarming truth came out that earth had somehow slipped from its prescribed orbit and was drawing away from the sun. In a year’s time it was noticed that the axis was also shifting, so that in time the tropics and polar regions would exchange places.
The astronomers at the same time noticed that all the planets and even the satellites were also changing orbits and shifting axes. They announced that the age-old balance of the solar system had been strangely disturbed, and that if continued, would result in complete collapse. But long before the ultimate end, the human race on earth would die from the havoc of the ice-age that would result.
In characteristic mental laxity of degenerate nobility, the upper class refused to credit the dismal predictions of the earnest scientists, saying it was a plot to disorganize civilization. They could not, however, refute the evidence of weather change. This they optimistically prophesied would soon halt. As proof of their contention, they brought up the old theory of ice-ages. This old rule stated no ice-age was due for another fifteen or twenty thousand years. So the scientists were scoffed down.
It was the second day after his wild ride with Mirna that Lon found his premonition confirmed—the premonition that his love affair with her could not go on much longer. That day he had been annoyed to find himself watched by a hawk-faced man. Ostensibly on a tour of inspection, th
is man had hovered around Lon as he worked in his electrical laboratory, saying nothing. In the evening his predatory face had gleamed momentarily from a patrol-car window, watching Lon climb the steps to the small apartment which was his home.
A spy on his trail! Lon had no doubt as to who had given the man orders. The thing he had long feared, but which he and Mirna had avoided by careful planning for a year, was now happening. It would be only a question of days and then he and Mirna would be forced apart for ever.
The next day he was shown that the separation was already in force. An official call came for him in the afternoon, ordering him to report to the divisional police station. Here he was booked as a suspicious character, and informed that he would be under surveillance till he acquitted himself of the charge. Crime and treasonable plotting were not allowed to gain headway in that time. A complex spy system had been organized by the Royal Class to prevent organization among the two lower classes.
Highly indignant, but helpless to resist, Lon was forced to bear the ignominy of this charge. Then, before he was allowed to depart, he was conducted to a private office. His heart sank as he faced a man in the scarlet and black of the Espionage—an organization as powerful as that of the police. Had they found out everything? He squared his shoulders defiantly, though, as the officer bored him with sharp and accusing eyes.
“What is the meaning of all this?” demanded Lon, showing a bravery of spirit he did not feel. “Why have I been charged as under suspicion, to be spied upon by your men? I am not a revolutionist, nor have I plotted against the government in any way.”
“You are trying to act the part of not knowing why you have been put under official suspicion,” returned the officer suavely. “Yet you do know.”
“I do not,” said Lon flatly.
“Then I will tell you.” The spy-chief grinned maliciously. “I am not permitted to name the lady, but you have been meeting her unlawfully, quite regularly, and for some length of time. She is of the Royalty. Her father, lenient and noble-spirited, will not order your arrest and punishment as matters stand now. In fact”—the officer leaned forward—“if you were to admit your part in this affair and promised to never again see the lady, you would be relieved at once of espionage. This message came from the father of the lady in question. There is your chance, my young friend.”
