by Various
I was athrill with joyous anticipation as we stepped from the plane beside one of the islands. Soon the Professor would draw aside the veil and allow me to view the pulsing heart of this marvel. And then I confidently told myself I would ask Greta the question which long I had wanted to ask. But there was to be another delay.
"I don't know whether it will work or not," suddenly said the Professor as if to himself. He began to act queer, jumping about from one thing to another muttering and shaking his head affirmatively. "Maybe I'll smash it" he said finally. "But we shall see--we shall see. Come, my boy," he added turning to me and eyeing me oddly.
He led the way aboard the island, and Greta soared into the air. In a few minutes we had risen to a height of two thousand feet. Then Greta gave another exhibition of the unique braking system of her plane by landing on the little field by our side.
"I am going over to the other island," announced the Professor. "I shall send it into the air and maneuver it horizontally. I will even come over to visit you, my boy. I shall step from that island onto this one. But if anything should happen to me--" he went on while I gazed at him in astonishment, "you must descend. Just pull this lever down and forward and press this--" He paused with his hand on the lever and looked at me steadily. "But I believe I'll have you meet me" he continued, his eyes burning and boring into mine. "It will make the test complete. Come, Greta, let's be going." He turned and clambered into the plane.
"Hold on--you have not told me how to meet you," I reminded unable to understand the sudden changes of his mind.
"Never mind," he said. "I'll try out my island first, then I'll send directions by Greta."
In another moment they had zoomed into the air leaving me alone aboard this strange contrivance of the sky.
As they winged away a sudden feeling of loneliness assailed me not unmixed with misgivings. My eyes roved about me. I had but a vague knowledge of the mechanism of this craft. Its bewildering array of wheels and levers and buttons appalled me, thanks to the Professor's foolish procrastination in teaching me their use. I wondered what would become of me, marooned here in the air should the Professor crash and something happen to Greta. I knew the island could not be lowered from the ground by anyone save the Professor. I looked below hopelessly. The workmen were only small dots, and the buildings and equipment of the plant looked like toys.
My attention was soon diverted to the Professor and his island. Majestically he rose into the air until he was about on a level with me. Then I saw him hurrying about over the structure, pausing now and then to oil and examine a machine, to adjust a lever and try a valve. I took up the binoculars and watched him closely. I saw that he was nervous, and the expression on his face alarmed me. His cheeks were pale, his eyes glowing like red coals and the motions of his lips told me he was talking rapidly to himself. I feared that the dreaded moment long feared by Greta had come at last.
And then as I gazed I saw about half a mile beyond the Professor something moving among the trees. Autumn was tardy in coming and most of the timber among the evergreens still retained its foliage though it was splashed with gold. As I watched the tops of the timber seemed to expand, to become strangely animated. Then they appeared to be rising to meet the sky as though they had suddenly taken on a phenomenal growth.
I blinked, lowered the glasses and hastily wiped them with my handkerchief. But as I placed them again to my eyes I uttered a cry of amazement and stupefaction, for soaring above the tree tops was another island of the sky! And this island carried trees and shrubs on its bosom. There was grass there and flowers. At each corner and in the center were airplane beacons the same as ours, but they were of a brilliant hue and artistic design.
A Catastrophe
I rubbed my eyes with a trembling hand. What had come over me to cause this hallucination? I had thought so much about this sky island business, had lost so much sleep over it that the thing was getting the best of my reason. I surely was seeing things. That green island over there soaring into the blue was a mirage, a fantasy of a disordered brain. I resolved to get a grip on myself and quit this business before it was too late. But as I stared again the mirage persisted mockingly, grew plainer and finally ceased its upward flight and came to rest. It was then that I suddenly discerned a figure bobbing about near the corner masthead--a small man with a bristling black beard. I caught my breath with a gasp. My God, I was beholding no mirage but the devilish handiwork of Professor Stiener's rival--Van Beck!
With sickening force the hot truth surged over me--Van Beck had stolen a march on us, after all. He had photographed the blue print the day Greta landed him in her plane. He had broken into the office, and the report that he had gone abroad was a lie and a blind. He had stolen the Professor's secret and improved it. True to form he was about to rob the Professor of the fruits of victory. The thing was unthinkable but there was the evidence before my eyes.
And now as I looked closer I saw another man on the green island. His back was toward me and he was crouched over some sort of a machine. He seemed to be working over Van Beck's directions, for I saw the latter run up to him every little while and gesticulate excitedly.
All this time the Professor was still running about making everything secure for his coming test. At last he paused and looked around with an air of satisfaction. All was ready. And then I observed him suddenly catch sight of his sky neighbor. I saw his face grow white as chalk, and he stood for a moment rigid as a statue. Then he placed a hand to his head in a dazed sort of way. Suddenly I saw him stagger forward, grip a large lever and cast his eyes in my direction. I thought he was about to try out the lateral act, to come over to me and discuss Van Beck's startling appearance in our field. In another moment I saw that his island was indeed moving laterally, but not in my direction. He was rushing toward Van Beck!
Overhead Greta was soaring and dipping and circling gracefully. I believed that she had not witnessed the advent of Van Beck and his island. I knew she was keeping an eye on her brother; that she would swoop down and rescue him should anything go wrong. It was evident that the Professor was about to board his rival and demand an explanation. In the present state of his mind I feared a battle between the two scientific geniuses--a battle that would bring death and ruin to our cause. Then I saw that Van Beck's island was moving--that he was coming on to meet the Professor!
"My God they have both gone crazy!" I exclaimed aloud.
And so it seemed. Even through the glasses I could see that they were rushing along at tremendous speed, but as they drew near each other Van Beck gave evidence that he did not wish to commit suicide, did not wish to fight. Evidently he was but seeking to show the Professor that he could equal and duplicate any feat of his. He raised his island, only to be followed swiftly by the angry Professor. Van Beck shot down lower, and again the Professor followed him.
By this time Greta was flying low above the Professor, and by her gestures and the agonized expression on her face I understood that she was imploring him to check his onward flight, to back away from his foe and seek safety on the plane. But the Professor waved her back with a horrible grimace and turned his blazing eyes toward the advancing island of green. It was plain that he intended to smash the creation of his rival even though he himself should perish in the wreckage. Embittered by years of Van Beck's meddling in his affairs he would kill him and wipe out the disgrace on the altar of death. I could do nothing to save him. In my excitement I ran to the very edge of my island, shouted and waved my arms frantically. And then as I gazed in the dumb agony of despair I saw that Van Beck was striving desperately to avert the catastrophe. He and his companion were working madly with the machinery, but somehow the island's momentum could not be checked. The machinery had gotten beyond their control, and the maddened Professor was coming resistlessly on. Edge to edge they met. The detonation was deafening. Blue and green and yellow fire enmeshed them for a moment, then the great mass rushed down.
I shut my eyes and reeled backward faint with
horror. I heard an awful crash as they struck. I looked over the side and as the dust cleared away among the trees, many of which had impaled the falling structures, I saw the ruins of the islands.
Greta was flying wildly about above the ruin vainly seeking a place to land. Once I saw the wings of the plane become entangled in a tree top. She had difficulty clearing it, and I thought she was going to crash. I must rush to her aid. I must hurry down. But how?
I gazed about me in dismay. The Professor had delayed the vital information too long. But in my wild anxiety over Greta and the fate of her brother I must attempt the descent. I went up to the center masthead and studied the instrument board carefully. After a time I believed that I understood the lowering mechanism. I seized the lever which the Professor had indicated. I swung it over and pushed it downward. I pressed a button. And then--Was I moving? At first it was uncertain. I looked down at the earth. The workmen within the enclosure were running wildly about, waving their arms and staring upward. It was then I realized I was moving. But, God in heaven, I was mounting higher!
Frantically I ran here and there, pulling levers, whirling wheels, but steadily, mercilessly, noiselessly I rose into the sky. The great bulk beneath my feet was steady as a house floor. Nothing that I did affected it in any way. It was as if some great power from above had reached down and was pulling me into the heart of the universe. I wondered why some of the electricians on the ground did not notice my predicament and shut off the power, then remembered that they did not dare to, the Professor having failed to instruct them what to do in such an emergency. Besides, I realized their attention was centered on the wrecked islands and the safety of Greta.
I speculated on how long the power to operate the repellent device of the Professor's terrible machines would last. Surely, I reasoned, I must soon pass beyond their influence. But then would I fall gently back or would the gravitational pull of the earth assert its rights and suck me down to destruction?
Wanderer Through Space
EVEN as these alarming thoughts drummed upon my brain I realized that I was rising faster and faster. The altimeter soon registered ten thousand feet, and the air was icy cold. I shivered and buttoned my coat about me. Then came more alarming thoughts. Suppose that these gravity waves, which the devilish ingenuity of the Professor had reversed, reached beyond the sun! Suppose that this island should rush on and on until it should escape those waves and come under the influence of the sun or some other great star, or fall and crash upon the cold, dead moon? Or suppose it would not be attracted to the surface of any of these but would sail on and on through space--a lonely wanderer of the sky!
Again in a frenzy of desperation I made the rounds of the machines. I bitterly reproached myself for permitting the Professor to keep postponing the instructions covering the manipulation of the islands. Now all was lost. Fortune, Greta--everything sacrificed for a madman's dream.
Fifteen thousand feet by the altimeter. I was still rushing toward heaven like a rocket. My teeth were chattering and I was gasping for breath. My hands and feet were aching with the cold. In a sort of drowsy subconsciousness I realized that I would soon succumb for the want of oxygen. Soon this strange vehicle that was bearing me to destruction would become both my funeral car and my tomb. Yet there was nothing I could do to save myself. Then a strange peace settled upon my soul. Why should I worry? Was I not a distinguished person? My death was to be the most unique ever witnessed by the stars. I gazed up at the cold, blue sky and laughed hysterically. What did I care? But even as I gave myself up for lost and my brain grew dull, I was sensible that my speed--tremendous as it had been before--was even faster now. The thin air swirled and whistled about my ears as I fought for breath and my numb hands clutched the mast to keep from falling.
As I stood there swaying dizzily I felt ajar. Somebody was calling my name--it sounded as from a great distance--and there was Greta stepping out of her plane.
Neither spoke as she helped me into the cabin, but I understood in a vague way how she had witnessed my plight and followed me. Also as in a dream came the thought that I had to thank the genius of the Professor for constructing a plane capable of such a flight.
Several minutes after we had left the island and were rapidly dropping toward the earth my senses returned to normal and looking up I saw the dim form of the island still racing on into space.
Landing at the plant we marshalled the workmen, secured tools and set out afoot for the wreck. After a weary tramp of an hour through the brush and over the rocks we reached it. The ruin of the islands was complete, and near where the edges had met, interlocked and almost welded themselves together we found the lifeless forms of the Professors within a few feet of each other. Their differences were settled at last.
"Poor old pal" I said sadly. I took Greta by the arm and turned away just as the workmen gathered up the bodies.
She was silent.
We inspected the other side of the green islands, marveling over Van Beck's originality and artistic bent. We were about to leave the spot when we heard a faint moan from above us.
Clambering up over the twisted steel we came upon a man pinned fast between two beams. We ran to him, then started back in dismay, for it was McCann. Exerting all our strength we released him. He was badly crushed but conscious. Here, I said to myself, is the secret of Van Beck's knowledge about the islands. McCann is a traitor, I thought, as I glanced at Greta reading agreement in her eyes. But the injured man swept us with a look of pleading as though he sensed what was passing in our minds.
"I'm no traitor, folks," he said weakly. "Van Beck's men kidnapped me and kept me by force. He forced me to tell all I know about the islands, and I know much." The Scotchman smiled whimsically.
"Then you will tell us what you know," I said. It was a chance to save the priceless knowledge to the world.
"Aye, aye, sir--if I can. But--" He put his hand to his chest while a paroxysm of pain distorted his features. "If--if you have but a bit of paper now--I'll tell you all I know. We'd better hurry now, for--for--"
His face became ghastly and I thought it was all over.
Madly I searched my pockets. I could find nothing but a small note book. I knew that McCann was dying. We must hasten.
As I poised my pencil above the paper the dying man made a brave effort to go on, but it was no use. He looked at us appealingly. His head sank back and he was gone.
"The great secret has died with him," I remarked.
"And I am glad," she said. "Man may aid nature's laws, but when he reverses them he must pay the penalty. Gustave's mad dream has killed him."
I gave her a startled look. She was not in sympathy with the works of science.
"Nevertheless I wish our island would drift back to earth. With it we might make a new start."
"If you love it so much perhaps I had better take you back to it," she suggested quietly.
"Agreed," I said. "The only condition I impose is that you remain there with me."
To which she made no answer then, nor has she to this day. We never looked for the island--nor did it ever return. Somewhere off in the far reaches of space it still pursues its solitary way.
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Contents
OMEGA, THE MAN
By Lowell Howard Morrow
The silver airship cut swiftly through the hot thin air. The noonday sun blazed down upon it and the desert world below. All about was the solemn silence of death. No living thing appeared either in the air or on the drab, gray earth. Only the aircraft itself displayed any signs of life. The sky, blue as indigo, held not the shadow of a cloud, and on the horizon the mountains notched into it like the teeth of a giant saw.
The airship finally came to a hovering stop, then dropped rapidly toward the salt-encrusted plain. It came to rest at last on the bottom of a great, bowl-shaped hollow situated at the end of a chasm whose gray, rock-strewn sides rose in rugged terraces for miles back into the sky. In a few moments a panel in the vessel's side rolled
noiselessly upward, disclosing a brilliant light, and from the interior of the airship soon appeared two figures who paused at the aperture and gazed out over the parched earth. Then without fear or visible effort--although they were seventy-five feet above the ground--they emerged from the ship and floated down to earth.
These two humans--the sole survivors of all earth's children--were man and wife--Omega and Thalma. They were burned a deep cherry by the fierce rays of the sun. In stature they were above the average man now on earth. Their legs were slender and almost fleshless, because for many centuries man had ceased to walk. Their feet were mere toeless protuberances attached to the ankle bone. Their arms were long and as spare as their legs, but their hands, although small, were well-proportioned and powerful. Their abdominal regions were very small, but above them were enormous chests sheltering lungs of tremendous power, for thus nature had armored man against the rarefaction of the earth's atmosphere. But the most remarkable parts about this truly remarkable couple were there massive heads set upon short, slim necks. The cranial development was extraordinary, their bulging foreheads denoting great brain power. Their eyes--set wide apart--were large and round, dark and luminous with intelligence and their ears were remarkably large, being attuned to all the music and voices of life. While their nostrils were large and dilated, their mouths were very small, though sensuous and full-lipped. They were entirely hairless--for even the eyebrows and the eyelashes of man had entirely disappeared ages before. And when they smiled they betrayed no gleam of teeth, for nature had long discarded teeth in man's evolution.
The great, silver ship of the sky now rested in a deep pocket on the floor of an ancient sea. Millions of years, under the sucking energy of the sun and the whip of many winds, had sapped its waters, until only a shallow, brackish lake remained. Along the shores of this lake, which covered scarcely more than a hundred acres, a rim of yellowish, green grass followed the water's edge and struggled against the inevitable, and here and there among the grasses flowers of faded colors and attenuated foliage reared their heads bravely in the burning sunshine. And this lone lake, nestled in the lowest spot among the mountains and valleys which once floored the Pacific, now held the last of earth's waters. Barren and lifeless the rest of the world baked under a merciless sun.
