Micro-Man
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many colors,but mostly there is the orange of the mountains. It hangs in the air,and from the portion nearest me grow dark trees as round as myself andas tall. There is a great redness above, that opens like the Katusflower, exposing the ivory white from which puffs the Tongue of Death.Beyond this I cannot see well, but ever so high are two gigantic cavernsfrom which the Winds of the Legends blow--and suck. As dangerous as theKatus, by Dal! Alternately they crush me to the ground, then threaten totear me from it and hurl me away."
_My nose was the cavern from which issued the horrifying wind. I noticedthat my breath distressed the little man as I leaned over to stare athim, so drew back._
_Upstairs, the visor buzzed. Before answering, so that I would not losethe little man, I very gingerly pinched his shirt with the tongs, andlifted him to the table._
"My breath! I am shot into the heavens like Milo and his rocket! Itraverse a frightful distance! Everything changes constantly. A millionmiles below is chaos. This world is mad! A giant landscape passesbeneath me, so weird I cannot describe it. I--I cannot understand. Onlymy heart trembles within me. Neither Science nor the gods can help orcomfort in this awful world of Greatness!
"We stop. I hang motionless in the air. The ground beneath is utterlyinsane. But I see vast uncovered veins of rare metal--and crystal,precious crystal, enough to cover the mightiest Temple we could build!Oh, that Mortia were so blessed! In all this terrifying world, therichness of the crystal and the marvelous metal do redeem.
"Men!----I see ... I believe it is a temple! It is incredibly tall, ofblack foundation and red spire, but it is weathered, leaning as if tofall--and very bare. The people cannot love their Gods as we--or elsethere is the Hunger.... But the gods may enlighten this world, too, andif lowered, I will make for it. A sacred Temple should be ahaven--friends! I descend."
_The little man's eye had caught my scissors and a glass ruler as Isuspended him above my desk. They were his exposed vein of metal and theprecious crystal. I was searching for something to secure him. In thelast second before I lowered him, his heart swelled at the sight of the"Temple"--my red and black pen slanting upward from the desk holder._
_A stamp lying on my desk was an inspiration. I licked it, turned it gumside up, and cautiously pressed the little man against it feet first.With the thought, "That ought to hold him," I dashed upstairs to answerthe call._
_But it didn't hold him. There was quite a bit of strength in that tinybody._
"Miserable fate! I flounder in a horrid marsh," the upset thought-wavescame to the men of Mortia. "The viscous mire seeks to entrap me, but Ithink I can escape it. Then I will make for the Temple. The Gods mayrecognize and protect me there."
* * * * *
I missed the call--I had delayed too long--but the momentary diversionhad cleared my mind and allowed new thoughts to enter. I now knew whatmy first step would be in presenting the little man to the world.
I'd write a newspaper account myself--exclusive! Give the scoop to Earl.Would that be a sensation for _his_ paper! Then I'd be made. A friend ofthe family, this prominent publisher had often promised he would give mea break when I was ready. Well, I _was_ ready!
Excited, dashing downstairs, I half-formulated the idea. Theheadlines--the little man under a microscope--a world afire to see him.Fame ... pictures ... speeches ... movies ... money.... But here I wasat my desk, and I grabbed for a piece of typing paper. They'd put thatin a museum, too!
The stamp and the little man lay just at the edge of the sheet, and heclutched at a "great orange mountain" covered by a "vast slab ofcurving, opaque glass" like the "Temples of Aerat." It was my thumb, butI did not see him there.
_I thrust the paper into the typewriter and twirled it through._
"I have fallen from the mountain, and hang perpendicularly, perilously,on a limitless white plain. I tremble, on the verge of falling, but theslime from the marsh holds me fast."
_I struck the first key._
"A metal meteor is roaring down upon me. Or is it something I have neverbefore witnessed? It has a tail that streams off beyond sight. It comesat terrific speed.
"I know. The Gods are angry with me for leaving Mortia land. Yes! 'Tisonly They who kill by iron. Their hands clutch the rod in mighty towerBaviat, and thrust it here to stamp me out."
And a shaking little figure cried: "Baviat tertia!... Mortia mea...." asthe Gods struck wrathfully at a small one daring to explore theirdomain. For little man Jeko had contrived to see Infinity--and Infinitywas only for the eyes of the Immortals, and those of the Experience whodwelt there by the Gods' grace. He had intruded into the realm of therulers, the world of the After Life and the Gods Omnipotent!
A mortal--in the land of All!
In a world deep down in Smallness, in an electron of a cell of deadwood, five scientists were grouped before the complicated instrument soreminiscent of early radios. But now they all were standing. Strained,perspiring, frightened, they trembled, aghast at the dimensions theexperiment had assumed; they were paralysed with terror and awe as theyheard of the wrath of the affronted Gods. And the spirit of sciencefroze within them, and would die in Mortia land. "Seek the skies only byhallowed Death" was what they knew. And they destroyed the machine ofthe man who had found Venquil land--and thought to live--and fled asJeko's last thoughts came through.
For many years five frightened little men of an electron world wouldlive in deadly fear for their lives, and for their souls after death;and would pray, and become great disciples, spreading the gospels of theGods. True, Jeko had described a monstrous world; but how could a meremortal experience its true meaning? It was really ethereal andbeautiful, was Venquil land, and they would spend the rest of their daysinsuring themselves for the day of the experience--when they wouldassume their comforted place in the world of the After Life.
_As I struck the first letter, a strange sensation swept over me.Something compelled me to stop and look at the typing paper. I was usinga black ribbon, but when the key fell away, there was a tiny spot ofred...._