by Mike Resnick
Danura’s cheeks dimpled, and she went slightly pink, turning to me beseechingly.
“Why don’t you get dressed first, and you and Gar can view the examination in the control room?” I suggested suavely. Gar gave me a skeptical look but agreed that the control room was warmer and more comfortable than the cold examination room. He did not know that I’d arranged that on purpose with this circumstance in mind.
After they left, Danura moved into the examination chamber, which was similar to a shower stall; she could stand up in it, her head peering over the top.
I could see tears trickling down her cheeks. I did not know why. The medical machine gave me a reason quickly enough: she was not pregnant.
She met my eyes as I looked up from the readouts. What she was thinking, I could not say.
“I’ve got it,” I told her. “You can get dressed now.”
With a sniff, she retreated from the machine, re-dressed and walked over to where I was examining the readouts.
“The machine doesn’t lie,” Danura said as she looked down on the display. Her expression changed to one of surprise as she said, “It says I’m pregnant.”
I smiled at her. “Yes, it does.”
“But—but—” She stopped as I gestured to another screen.
“Evina and Gar are seeing this,” I said, pointing to the false readings I’d programmed earlier, stolen from one of the training routines. “That is what the machine really saw.”
“If Evina finds out that I’m not pregnant, she will become the only Prime Mother,” Danura told me in a low voice. “And she and Gar will—”
“They will have to listen to Argos now,” I reminded her. “Their victory may not be as complete as they’d like.”
“So why are you showing them that?” Danura asked, pointing to the false readings.
“To give you the choice,” I told her.
“They will find out soon enough,” she said sadly.
“You can alter that,” I suggested.
“With you?” she asked. “Or with Gar?”
I did not answer. To be honest, I was not sure if I could answer. Danura was smart and pretty, but her ways were quite different from mine . . . and there was still Yamoda’s kiss to consider.
As a pilot, I thought I had become master of my body, but in the past weeks it had made it clear to me that, in my new Polodan body, the issue was not resolved. Just as the long-lost Ronnie had been replaced in my affections by small Yamoda, was it possible that the tall blond woman standing next to me might replace Yamoda in my heart?
I had work to do and a promise to keep. “Come,” I said to her. “Let’s go join the others.”
By the end of the week, everything was in order for my plan. Gar was growing more and more adept at handling the repairs and learning the routines of Argos, Evina was grudgingly accepting the notion that she and Danura would still vie for the position of Prime Mother, and the Tonosians were slowly being reintroduced to the amazing machinery their ancestors had perfected so many thousands of years ago.
I could see that Gar was scheming to see how he could come out best from this new arrangement just as Argos was convinced that as a machine intelligence it would have no trouble handling all the people on Tonos.
The time had come.
I waited until it was dark once more and everyone could be expected to be asleep.
From my hidden location, I retrieved all the gear I had created and pilfered from Argos’ stores. I dressed in warm gear—my old flight suit had been destroyed when the Tonosians had recovered me—and I could not recreate the thermal layers required to live in the arctic conditions without alerting Argos to my plans.
At the doorway to the outside, I hesitated briefly. Of all the people I’d met, I would miss Danura the most. She was the most intelligent, the most demanding and the most attractive of all the people on Tonos. Her ways were strange to me, and I was not sure she or her people would ever grow to learn love, which I felt was a horrible loss for them.
Even so, I had to go. I had unwittingly exposed the people of Unis to a threat even greater than the one they’d sent me to free them from. I owed them a solution to the new problems I’d created.
Handon Gar would remain behind. I did not trust him enough to confide in him—for if he betrayed me, all would be lost.
With one final look, I turned away from my quarters and went to the main entrance. I triggered the special sequence I’d programmed into my communicator, and the special access door opened. I made my way quickly inside, closed it and then opened the outer door—for it was built much like the airlocks on a submarine.
The wind howled outside and I would have been blind in the darkness except for the marvelous Tonosian goggles that turned darkest night into a dim, greenish day for me.
I pulled out my compass, took a quick bearing, and set off.
I had only gone a few yards when a dark shape appeared in front of me.
My heart shuddered. All was lost.
I rocked back on my heels as the figure approached. It was dressed in cold-weather gear, and another suit of clothes hung over one shoulder.
“Did you think you could get away that easily?”
It was Danura.
“I must go,” I told her firmly, trying to decide how to leave her without causing her harm. For all that they now had a vast store of medical knowledge, Danura was one of a few women who could still bear children and repopulate the domes of Tonos.
“I know,” she said, moving close up beside me. She was wearing a long, clear mask that covered her face completely. She reached up to me. “Ah, you made night goggles. They are not as good as a thermal suit.”
“Thermal suits can be tracked,” I told her. “Argos will know you’re here.”
“And not you?” he asked, immediately unsealing her suit and starting to remove it.
“Don’t do that!” I cried. “You’ll freeze to death.”
“If Argos tracks us, it won’t matter.”
“Us?” I said uncertainly.
She continued to strip even as she shouted over the wind, “I’m coming with you.”
“What?”
“Did I not cry when I read about Golrina and her choice?” she said, half out of her suit. She gestured around her. “This is my choice, to be with you.”
I couldn’t speak. Finally, I said, “Put your suit back on or you’ll freeze to death.”
“But Argos!”
“We’ll deal with that,” I assured her. “Quickly—we need to move before he can track us.”
She closed her suit up again and sealed it. Through the clear mask, I could see that her lips had taken on a bluish tinge even in that short a time, but her blue eyes were resolute.
“Lead on,” she ordered.
I led. I looked back several times to be sure she was following. The last time I couldn’t find her until I turned completely around in a circle and found her in front of me.
“Your goggles are not as good as my mask,” she said. “Point the way and I’ll lead.”
I pointed and she led.
The craft resolved itself in the distance, growing from shadow to solidity.
“You came in that?” she said as she looked up at it. “And it will take us away?”
“When I make some changes,” I told her.
“What about Argos?”
“I’m thinking,” I told her. I gestured to the hatchway and we climbed inside. My fingers were numb from the cold, and I was desperate to get into my spare flight suit, but I knew that I needed to work fast.
I pulled off my pack and pulled out the circuits I’d made. I pointed to the panel. “We need to wire this in over there,” I said to her.
“I can do that,” she told me.
I hesitated. If she was wrong, we’d die either by Argos or when we turned on the power amplifiers.
“Trust me, Tangor,” she said. I handed her the circuitry.
“I’ve got to check the engines.”
“This isn’t the engine?” she said, pointing at the circuit I’d given her.
“That works when we’re off the planet. The engines will get us into the air.”
“We’re going to fly back to your homeworld?”
“Something like that,” I told her, hurrying reluctantly back out into the biting chill of the arctic night. Quickly I cut the mooring line, checked the engines, and eyed the inflatable pontoons. They were, thankfully, still all in good order. I had not dared come here any time before, so if they’d been damaged we were dead.
“We.” I hadn’t expected that. I shook myself out of my reverie and moved back into our craft.
Danura had finished wiring in the circuitry. I flicked on the power switches and saw that it was working.
“I need you to get out of your suit. Remove anything that’s powered and throw them down to me,” I told her.
“I’ll freeze!”
“You’ll die otherwise.”
She frowned at me but began peeling out of her suit. Moments later, shivering, she threw them down to me.
“In the back of the craft you should find stores. See if you can fit into Gar’s flight suit. He was nearer your size than I.”
She waved, her teeth chattering, and moved back.
I took all the gear and my communicator and threw them into the sea. A moment later, I was back in the cockpit firing up the engines.
Danura joined me as I swerved the craft around and pointed it into the bay.
“I thought you said we’re going to fly!” she cried through still-chattering teeth. She had found only a blanket and had draped it around herself.
“Strap in,” I said, pointing to the straps in the copilot’s chair. “It’s going to get bumpy.”
I gunned the power and we jumped into the water. I throttled back to be sure we didn’t get swamped by a wave and then slowly moved us out from the shore.
I had never tried to fly at night like this. For that matter, I wasn’t sure I’d succeed. And now, with Danura, I was doubly afraid.
“How can you see?” she asked, peering at the darkness in front of us. “Do you still have your goggles?”
“I have this,” I told her, pointing to a display that I’d set in front of me. It was a Tonosian version of an avionics display and like all the electronic displays, it was small, touch-activated, and incredibly powerful. I had readings of attitude, speed, direction—everything required to orient myself.
I gunned the power, and we started moving more swiftly, bobbing up and down as we skimmed over waves. Soon we had enough power to take off with both engines and I gently pulled the nose up, angling us toward the clouds above.
A moment later we lurched and were airborne.
An instant later, there was a loud bang, and a brilliant light flared in the night sky, blinding me. Instinctively, I looked back at the display and waited until my eyes recovered their night vision.
“Tangor, what was that?”
“I’d say that Argos found your thermal suit,” I told her, pushing more power into the throttles and lurching us up at the steepest angle I could maintain.
“Oh!” Danura cried as the g-forces slammed her back into her chair.
We climbed steadily until we were at twenty thousand feet. I double-checked our pressure seals and our oxygen tanks, glad that I’d set them to recharge when we’d first landed so many months ago. We had enough for two months, if need be.
We had slightly more rations than that.
Suddenly we broke through clouds and the stars came out, twinkling.
“What are those?” Danura cried, pointing at them. “Are those planets?”
“No, those are stars,” I told her. I checked our heading and then—with some trepidation—engaged the new circuits for the power amplifier. In an instant we were thrust back against our seats as the power amplifiers added to the thrust of the engines. I idled the engines, which were becoming ineffective in the high, thin air, and we continued our climb until we exited the atmosphere.
“What is it like on your home, Tangor?”
“We’re not going there,” I told her.
“Because Argos would follow us,” Danura said. I gave her a surprised look, and she giggled. “Did you not think I could figure it out?”
“So tell me,” I demanded, “what is my plan?”
“You are going for help,” she said. “You are going to the next planet over—what is its name?”
“Yonda,” I said, surprised at how much she had guessed.
“And I am coming with you,” she told me.
She started shivering and I said to her, “Go back to the sleep cabin and get under the sheets.”
“I’m too cold,” she said. “How will I keep warm?”
I looked at my display screen, tapped in a routine I’d set up when I’d first made it, and turned on the autopilot.
“I’ll join you,” I said, unstrapping my seatbelt.
“And how will that help, Tangor?” Danura asked, her eyes dancing.
“There are two heaters on this craft.”
“Heaters?”
“You and me,” I said, gesturing for her to precede me.
“And when we are warm, what then?” Danura asked, turning back to bat her eyelashes at me alluringly. “It is a long time to Yonda, is it not?”
“We’ll think of something,” I told her. She giggled again and I realized how much I loved the sound.
The last words remained at the bottom of the page, the typewriter stopped.
It remained silent all night long even as I waited. Finally, I went to sleep.
It was still silent in the morning.
It’s been that way now for over a month.
What of Tangor’s warning? Was it really him? How did he work through the typewriter?
And, most importantly, why didn’t he give us a clear warning?
I must tell you. I must tell you before it is too late. Your world is in danger. You must prepare. You must be ready. God forgive me, it is all my fault.
Tell us what? That Argos knows about us? Or the Kapars? Is Earth in danger?
Is it too late?
Each night I hope in vain that the typewriter will start up once more. I have a fresh sheet in the rubber rolling platen, and I have made sure that the keys are oiled, the ribbon is fresh.
I will wait, like Edgar Rice Burroughs, until Tangor returns.
Inspired by Conan Doyle’s The Lost World (1912) and the long history of Hollow Earth mythology, Burroughs created Pellucidar, a world inside ours with an eternal sun, horizonless vistas, and an eerie stationary moon. ERB pitted David Innes and his brilliant and eccentric scientist friend, Abner Perry, against mammoths, sabre-tooths and evil flying-reptile overlords in At the Earth’s Core (1914) and Pellucidar (1915). David Innes, of course, conquered all and became Emperor of Pellucidar. ERB followed those books with 5 others. NY Times bestselling author F. Paul Wilson takes on the mysteries of this geologically impossible world, and in the course of events sends David and Abner on a ride to the moon known as the Dead World.
—Bob
The Dead World
As related by David Innes to F. Paul Wilson
via Gridley Wave
As Emperor of Pellucidar, I’ve always felt it good policy to make occasional visits to the heads of state of the various Federated Kingdoms that make up the Empire. I find myself visiting Thuria more than the others. I hadn’t realized this until my wife, the beautiful Dian, mentioned it.
I was surprised. Why would I be drawn to a kingdom set in the Land of Awful Shadow?
On reflection, I realized I was drawn there because of the shadow.
For those new to Pellucidar, let me offer a quick tutorial.
Earth is hollow. Five hundred miles below the crust exists a separate world, seven thousand miles in diameter, with a miniature sun suspended in the center. Because its sun shines ceaselessly, Pellucidar has no day-night cycle, and the concept of time is, therefore, elusive and
ephemeral.
It’s inhabited by refugees from ancient times, from the Jurassic through the Pleistocene epochs, including primitive Homo sapiens.
Pellucidar also has a moon—a small, strange sphere that hangs stationary about a mile above the surface. It has a number of names. I’ve heard it called the Pendant Moon, but most often it’s referred to as the Dead World. Since its orbit is, for want of a better term, geosynchronous or geostationary, the land below exists in the perpetual twilight of its shadow.
Since I’m from the surface world and grew up with a day-night cycle, perhaps my body craves periodic sojourns in the twilit Land of Awful Shadow. Perhaps it sees that Shadow as anything but Awful.
On this particular trip, after crossing the Sojar Az on my clipper ship, the John Tyler, I took lunch with Goork, the King of Thuria, in his palace. Thurians are hut dwellers, so their idea of a palace is a single-story structure made of stone block. These folk are unique among the humans of Pellucidar. Since they live in shadow, their skin is pale; they carry heavy traces of Neanderthal ancestors, with a squat physique that is more muscular and more hirsute than the average human here. Goork and I did not get off to a good start when first we met, but we’ve become fast friends since.
As we ate I found myself, as usual, gazing up at the Dead World slowly rotating only a mile above. I’ve never understood why they call it the Dead World. From here I could see mountains and oceans and lakes and rivers and forests. Nothing dead about it. I saw no sign of habitation, though. But then, finer details were difficult to discern since the side facing the land was always in shadow. I could not imagine normal humans living on that small world, not unless they were small themselves, like the Minunians, the fabled Ant Men of Africa.
We had barely begun our meal when a young Thurian came charging up, shouting, “Father! Father!”
I recognized the lad as Koort, younger brother to Goork’s other son, Kolk. He looked frightened and angry.
Goork shot to his feet. “What is the meaning of this? What is so important that you interrupt my meal with the Emperor.”
