SO terrific was the vision that met my eyes, that at first I was conscious of nothing but blinding light and roaring sound, a tumult that sent me reeling back against the wall. The flames of lightning were in this glare; thunder-crash was in the bellowing that smashed on my ears. I flung up my hand to shield my eyes, certain that I would be annihilated any moment.
But the moments passed, and I still lived.
Once more I looked on the scene. I was conscious now that the light was not steady; it pulsed and waned rhythmically. The sound, too, waxed and rose again to a deafening tumult. I looked at a vast cavern, and through a gap in the farther wall I saw another cavern, equally large, and yet another, stretching into the far distance.
Crouched in the huge room were metal giants!
They were mountains that throbbed and shuddered with living thunder. Mighty wheels spun dizzily; shining rods rose and fell; lightning flashed from great towers that rose toward the rock roof. It was an inferno, a maelstrom of giants’ playthings. But those who walked among the metal mountains were not giants. They were men.
Strange men, smaller than I, but well muscled and scantily clad in leather garments. They moved with strangely mechanical strides, and no expression crossed the gray, hairless faces. The room was filled with the gray men, serving the living, iron mountains. They pushed levers and spun wheels; they tended their charges like slaves. And when one turned toward me, I saw that his eyes were dull and without soul.
Looking farther past him, I saw one of the Prytls standing stock-still, regarding me, as if his slow wits could not recall who I was. As our eyes met, he uttered a loud cry in a meaningless jargon. Immediately every eye was on me.
Slowly the gray men began to surge forward. I ducked under one of the metal mountains, where, through gaps in the iron hide of the thing, I saw a whir of swift movement and blue sparks whirling. With a single motion I fitted an arrow to my bow. As the first of the gray men wheeled and came toward me, the arrow sang a song of death. The gray man fell on the arrow that stuck from his heart. The one behind staggered back with an arrow jutting from an eye-socket, the blood gushing down his face.
The unarmed Prytl, seeing what was happening, shouted something that sounded as harsh as a string of curses. The gray men slowly fell back, moving out of the cavern and out of sight, leaving me alone. On sudden thought, I tried to open the door leading to the room which had dropped me here. It was tightly closed. There was no way out now, even if I had wanted it before I had found Mira, and I hadn’t.
I started walking through the cavern, not knowing where to go, when I was greeted by a yell that rose above the continual thunder of the place. A new band of the gray men was sweeping toward me, and in their hands they held glowing sticks.
Sensing their purpose I seized the magic stick that Simon had given me and waited for them. But they did not come to take me. When they were a few feet away they stopped, and the sticks in their hands took on a fierce white light. They pointed the sticks directly at me, and bright rays of light fell on me. I did the same with my stick, but no light came from it.
For a moment I despaired, then, as I caught the dismay on the gray men’s faces, I realized I had won. Even though no light came from the magic wand, it was stronger than theirs, as the unseen wall had been stronger than other walls. Again and again the lights ran over me but I felt nothing. New strength coursed in me, and I advanced, holding the stick before me. The gray men fell back and seemed on the point of breaking in disorder, when—
Orgu came rushing past them, up in their front ranks. In a glance he saw what was happening, but strangely, he shouted, “The suit—tear it from him!” The suit! Was that the magic, and not the stick? Of course. There was a magic for everything. As I saw the fear on the gray men’s faces, inwardly I blessed old Simon, then I called out.
“Come and tear it off by yourself, O fearless Orgu!” But without waiting, I threw the stick to the ground and leaped at him. Laughing exultantly, I could scarcely feel him through the leaden suit. I seized his throat and pushed him back to one of the iron mountains. His eyes were popping from his head and a hand swung up, holding an iron stick. I ducked and gripped his arm, and with a lunge, I brought it down against my knee. I had broken the arm.
But just as I stepped toward him again, he fell away and suddenly he touched one of the spinning organs of the living iron mountain. It caught him up and threw him shoulder high. Screaming horribly, Orgu was being sucked into the mountain, probably to be eaten, when I gripped his arms and pulled with all my strength. Great grunts came from the Iron Creature, and it cast off blue sparks of fire. The noise was enough to make me feel faint. The sweat coursed down me and my back felt it would break under the pull of the iron monster, and slowly, slowly, I kept fighting and won.
I pulled Orgu out from the monster’s mouth. Both his legs had been crushed by iron teeth. He was not bleeding, but his legs were mangled as if a bear that was not hungry had tried to destroy him.
I stood over him. “Where is Mira?” I said.
He would not answer. His mouth was open in a horrible grimace, and spittle drooled from his lips. I knew he would not live long. “Tell me where is Mira and how I must go to leave here,” I said, “or I will feed you to the living mountain again.”
Orgu could scarcely speak, but he raised a hand and pointed. “A cavern leads . . . beyond this . . . in the purple glow . . .” His breath was too short now for him to speak. His eyes were rolling in fear. Part of my blood revenge had been taken.
I left him and walked through the gray men. They were standing there as if enchanted, and as I walked by them, they lowered their eyes to the ground and moved aside.
AT the end of the cavern there was a wide passage.
I followed it along until it led into an immense cavern. There were little pin-points of light here and there in the cavern, but not the purple glow. Perplexed, I stayed in the passage and kept walking. Then I heard other footsteps. I stood close against a wall and waited.
Perhaps a hundred feet from me I saw a Prytl come into view, and he saw me at the same instant. Although I feared little now of these people under the ground or the Prytls, new discovery would lead to more fighting, and perhaps there was a magic that I could not overcome. The gray man would not stay immobile long, and if the Prytl escaped to give my location, I might be caught.
All this I thought in the instant as we faced each other. Then abruptly, the Prytl took to his heels and I after him. Down the cavern we raced, with my long strides quickly overtaking him, but when I was but a few paces away, he whirled and ran through a door, slamming it after him. I followed in a second—and found myself in a great chamber that was illuminated by a soft purple glow—the place where Orgu had directed me!
But there was no sign of the Prytl, and for good reason. The chamber was pierced by some two-score and ten doors! It seemed to be centrally located among all the caverns of this under-the-ground world, yet there was nothing there at all.
Wondering, I stepped forward, and as I did so, I felt something move under my feet. It was a tiny knob, stuck in the floor. The next instant I saw the ground yawning before me, and from the black bowels of the earth there rose a huge pedestal. On it was a great ball of stone which gave off a marvelous purple light. It rose until it towered over me, then stopped. The stone was a flawless, brilliant thing, and it looked as if one could see into it, seeing there the imprisoned flames of a tame fire, flames that moved slowly in no apparent order.
And then I heard a voice—a warm, yet somehow inhuman voice, say, “You will never escape Manhat-tan.”
I whirled, fingering my bow. But for the luminous stone, I was alone in the great chamber.
“Who are you?” I said. “Where are you?”
“I am the crystal,” the voice said—only now I thought I was not really hearing a voice except in my head. “I am the library brain. I give information when it is needed.”
This was magic indeed. I adjusted the knapsack across my
shoulders and walked forward warily. “Are you alive?” I whispered.
“I am a machine. I am the greatest machine of all time. Without me the city of the immortals would be a ruin tomorrow. My ten thousand eyes see everywhere, my ears record everything, my reflexes coordinate all. Within me lies the knowledge of all mankind, and of the immortals.”
“I do not understand,” I said. “If you are not alive, then who made you?”
“The Scientists,” said the voice in my head. For some reason I shivered. Though there was but one question uppermost in my mind—Mira—still a thousand confused questions were burning within me. I had begun to think strange thoughts. I had begun to see new things.
“Why do men live under the ground?” I said.
“They have lived here for ages. They are the minidless ones, and they tend the great machines that keep the city alive. Centuries ago, the Scientists of Manhat-tan created this great unit, needing no direction or repair from outside sources. The radiation from the quartz glassine dome sustains life indefinitely. Air is created and sent to the upper levels. All the work of the city is done here. The mindless ones have never seen the earth’s surface. They know only work, and when something goes wrong, they come to me for an answer.”
“But why do the immortals fear them?”
“The mindless ones have inherited an unreasoning hatred for those descended from their masters. When the immortals, in the past half century, found it necessary to come below, they could not come here themselves, so they sent the Prytls, who were fierce enough to wage successful combat and carry out orders.”
“Orders?” I asked. “What do the Prytls do?”
“Outside the dome, directed by a few immortals who alone are physically fit to venture there, the Prytls steal mates for the mindless ones. Underground, the Prytls take mortals to the Radioactive Chambers, through the room with the Black Door.”
“Then there is a Black Door!” I cried.
“You will be within it soon.”
“NEVER!” I cried. Then cautiously I added, “I meant no offense, O mighty giver of answers. But tell me this: what is the purpose of a radioactive chamber?”
“Centuries ago its purpose was a manifold one. It was a source of power and light. It was adapted to surgery. It fought disease. When the dome was built, they needed no more light, and the machines gave power. And since the Ancients killed all disease, it had no more uses for the immortals. I know many other uses, but I have not been asked. Now the chambers are used in a way that even I do not understand. The immortals have been dying of their own hands, and they believe that if they decompose the body of a strong-willed and vigorous mortal, transforming him into small radioactive particles, that the rays of a lamp lit by the particles will give them the qualities of that man. This, they believe, will end the increasing tendency to suicide.
“I do not understand this, for I know, in my vast knowledge, that this is akin to a belief eons old and once held by men who ate others, thinking they would thus receive the good qualities of the eaten ones. Such thoughts were disapproved of by the Scientists, and they were known as superstitions.”
I shuddered. “Why do not the Scientists end this practice?”
“The last Scientist died twenty-two hundred years ago.”
The answer was as if a sudden lamp had been turned on. Twenty-two centuries had gone by since the learned men—for such the Scientists had been, I now knew—had died, and with them, this world had died. It had rotted away, until the immortals were no greater than the Prytls whom they used to keep up a city that was run by mindless slaves. The course of life had passed them by, and they lived in a time of long ago. Perhaps that was why they killed themselves, for I could see no reason for their living. This, then, was the reason behind the Shining Death!
I remember I stood there like a child, trembling, eager to go on, yet with each passing moment, I feared the return of the Prytl.
“That answer I know too,” said the great crystal. “You need not fear anyone here, since you will be caught by the immortals. They have not fought in countless ages, but the immortal Aiyana sent Prytls here to ask me of the weapons in the dusty museums of Manhat-tan.”
“Thank you, O answerer,” I said. “But I have mighty magic in my sack. Simon the Elder is a Scientist and he gave me a magic wand, a suit of lead and a box that contains a jinee that is the essence of malice. Now, if you will tell me quickly where I may find Mira, I will leave.”
“I do not know Mira.”
“But you must, O answer-giver. Mira is my betrothed, and she was given to the mindless ones, to be the—the mate of one.”
“Mortal women are taken to the great cavern in which the mindless ones live, there to dwell with them in the darkness.”
I knew then that I had passed Mira on my way here; she was in the immense cavern where I had seen a few tiny lights flicker.
I bowed low and went out through the door by which I had come. It was as the Crystal had said. No one molested me; indeed I saw no sign of life. Now I burned again to free her, yet I could not feel anger against the mindless ones, but only a loathing and pity.
AS I came to the place where the passage dipped into the great cavern, I almost stumbled over several of the gray men. Instantly the darkness was lit up by a score of the little wands they carried, but the magic was useless. I lunged for the nearest one and smashed him against the wall. Then I took the wand, to use it as a light in the darkness. But as I flashed it on one of the gray men, he seemed to be devoured by a sudden white blaze!
I stood still a moment, seeing the agony on the wretch’s face, watching the silver light dance on him even after I had quickly moved away the wand. Slowly he began to shine with a radiance that brought back a horrible memory. I gritted my teeth and went ahead, and in the darkness outside the light of my wand, I heard the retreat of running feet.
Not far from where I had entered I saw the first of the dwellings of the mindless ones. They were nothing more than shallow caves hollowed out of the enormous sides of the cavern. Before I knew what I had done, I had turned the wand on two or three as they lay asleep in their caves, but I had not meant to do that; I was looking only for Mira. Now a new difficulty had risen. Without the wand I could not see, and if I used it, its touch was the hand of death.
I kept the wand pointed to the floor, peering ahead through the dim reflection. The cavern was large enough for many thousands of beings to have lived there, in utter darkness, with the dank smell of earth and rock everywhere. Now and again I saw a woman who looked as though she might once have come from the world of mortals, from my own world of the rolling hills. Their empty eyes would catch the light of the wand, and they looked at me dumbly as I passed on.
Staying close to the wall, I made out a faint orange glow somewhere ahead. The cavern wall turned abruptly and at once I was before a small fire coming from a little cave to one side. Venturing in, I had time only to see the vague shadows of several recumbent figures lying near the fire, for the bright glare hurt my eyes, when suddenly something leaped at me from behind and an arm flashed around my neck. In the quick attack, the bright wand fell from my grasp. A bright sliver of metal gleamed before me and then it plunged down to my heart!
But the leaden suit withstood the blow, and I spun about. I felt my hands seizing a throat, and I dug my fingers in deeply, anger rising up in me like a river. A sudden kick to my groin almost doubled me with pain, and as I let go and ducked away, the foot caught me on my temple and threw me to the ground. Even as the figure leaped, the knife again upraised, I shot upward from the ground, up and underneath the figure, seizing the legs. With a sudden spin, I turned my adversary about and brought my fist down on his face. The one blow had done its work; he lay quiet—
“Mira!” I shouted. For it was Mira who lay there before me.
Her nose was bleeding, and her bronze hair, like an aura in the light of the fire, lay wildly around her still face. I slapped her gently until her eyes flickered open. They s
tayed on my face, unmoving, then closed.
“Mira,” I said quietly. “It is Jo-Hagra.”
Slowly she began to weep. In confusion I looked about me. The still figures around the fire had not moved. The wand that had fallen was trained on one of them, and the body had begun to shine brightly. And then I saw that they were all gray men, the mindless ones—and they were all dead.
When I looked again at Mira, her eyes were open and she was staring at me. The sobs were stopping now. She raised a hand and brought it slowly to my face, letting her fingers touch my lips. “It is you, Jo-Hagra,” she whispered faintly. “I thought I had gone mad.”
I CLEANED the blood from her face and tried to keep her quiet, but the words tumbled from her lips. “I made a fire with my stones and burned moss from the walls. I dared not fall asleep, but waited close to the mouth of the cave, and as each of these beasts came in, I killed.” She repeated the words again and again. “I killed and killed.”
Now suddenly I wanted to laugh exultantly, for she had made me feel strong, but then I said to Mira, for I had always been honest with her, “We must leave here quickly, but I do not know the way to go.”
Strangely, Mira was silent a moment before she said, “I know the way out. I found it when I tried to escape here. But I would not leave without you, and I had no way of finding you.”
I looked at her, then said, “Thank you, Mira. But you should be joyous, yet your face is troubled.”
“I found your brother North,” she said.
“Alive?”
“Neither dead nor alive.”
“Where?”
“In the room through the Black Door.”
It was all I could do to hold myself. I could not trust my voice. I had to whisper. “Will you take me there, Mira?”
She rose and took my hand. “Come, Jo-Hagra,” she said.
We went along through dark passages, guided only by the wand which I had taken up again, until we reached the great chambers where the iron monsters lived. When the gray men saw us, they did nothing, for the Prytls were not there to goad them. Only one of them made any movement, and that was a slight edging toward Mira, but I pushed him aside and he returned to his tasks. Looking down the chamber, at the far end I saw the body of Orgu. It was still lying where I had left it.
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