Norton, Andre - Novel 19

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Norton, Andre - Novel 19 Page 10

by Garan the Eternal (v1. 0)


  Within, neatly laid up in glass-fronted bins, were suits of scales made to cover a man from head to foot, even to his fingertips. They were light in weight but chemically treated so as to withstand all known death vapors and heat rays. Pointing these out to Anatan I gave him his orders.

  "Sort out enough of these for all of us. I will join you later on the roof.”

  Leaving him there, I went down yet another ramp to the floor below, there seeking out the room wherein were stored certain new ray throwers of a radical type not yet issued to the corps. On the testing field they had made an excellent showing in both accuracy and range, but as yet their worth had not been proven to the full satisfaction of our experts.

  I laid aside six of these small torch-like rods and with them extra charges of green, violet, and infrared lenses. To the new and untried weapons I added an equal number of the regular pattern in use, again with extra charges. And then, as I turned to go, I came upon a belt of grippon hide equipped with a large radium light cell, the sort of accouterment worn by those venturing into the Lapidian caves. I added this to my spoil.

  Back again on the roof I found Anatan, there before me, impatiently pacing about the flier. Besides the indestructible scale suits he had found four war swords of the ancient pattern, swords that were meant to be used in hand-to-hand combat on the field and not as dress ornaments.

  We replaced the trap door and I locked it. Then back in the flier Anatan pressed the lever which sent us soaring upward. Avoiding the patrols, flying their regular beats above the city, we circled back over the route we had come.

  Luckily the pleasure palace was easy to identify from the air and Anatan speedily discovered our alley. Then, in spite of his doubts, he accomplished an expert piece of maneuvering, setting us down upon its pavement not ten paces from the door. If we had not been in one of the smallest of private ships he could not have done it As it was there were but two hands' breadth between its polished sides and the alley wall.

  We gathered up our spoil and, so laden, went to the door. At my knock it opened smoothly without sound and Analia peered out, bright gleam of her dress and ornaments dulled by the shadows.

  Again we traversed those crooked ways within the walls until we stepped through an opening into a small, bare court. There were Thran and Zacat crouched above a tattered strip of yellowed fish skin, the substance upon which the ancients of our race had recorded their deeds.

  "You return so soon? That is able work, Lord Garan. Now what do you bring us?"

  I hurriedly explained my choice of weapons and held forth one of the scale suits for Thran to examine. In the light the crystalline, octagonal scales possessed a jewel-like sparkle. Zacat smoothed it with all the love of a fighting man for a good tool of his trade. But his interest was thoroughly aroused when Anatan produced the antique war swords.

  "Good steeL" He ran his thumb down the shining blade of one. "I would rather have this than all the ray rods in Krand. For steel never plays a man false. That is a clever lad, that Anatan of yours."

  "It seems that you have robbed your armory to some purpose," agreed Thran, checking our spoils for the second time. "Nor have we been altogether idle while you were gone."

  He waved his hand toward a corner of the court and there were heaped small concentrate food containers and jars of the so-called “water" drops which are issued on the march through desert countries. So treated, enough food and water to suffice a m a n for days might be carried in a belt pouch no larger than my two fists. In addition there was the map over which they had been stooping when we entered

  "Little enough do we know of the underground ways. Save for the perverted Lapidians, we humans have shunned the surface paths below," Thran pointed out as he smoothed his map. "But always there are those who seek knowledge in strange places. Such was the soldier Kem-mec, who lived in Yu-Lac some five thousand years ago.

  "They were excavating then for the foundations of the first of the great defense towers and, in order to provide it with an indestructible base, the builders went far deeper below the surface than they had ever pierced before. On the twenty-seventh day of excavation they laid open a section of one of the Ways of Darkness.

  "Kem-mec sought and obtained permission to enter and explore the unknown passage in view of its possible future use for military purposes. He was unable to gather any followers and went alone. The equipment of that day was, of course, vastly inferior to that our underground explorers rely upon today, but he did manage to explore and map a large section of the Ways honeycombing the rock upon which Yu-Lac stands. There were abundant indications that these huge tunnels and chambers had been hollowed out by mechanical means and it is supposed that they were the products of the skill of that inhuman race which preceded us in the mastery of this planet.

  "His first trip below merely aroused Kem-mec's thirst for further knowledge. He went again and again and finally failed to return. In the meantime it was considered best by Amest the Great, Emperor of Yu-Lac at the time, to close the opening.

  "He made this decision suddenly after receiving the confidential report made by Kem-mec upon his return from his next to last trip. It can be readily surmised that the soldier-explorer had discovered something highly dangerous to the city. What it was was never made public.

  "Up until half a year ago all Kem-mec's earlier reports and maps moldered undisturbed in the library of the Learned Ones at Semt. But when I wished to look through them, moved by curiosity, I discovered them gone, with the exception of this single map which had been caught against the upper cover of the coffer in which they had been kept. The attendant informed me that Kepta of Koom had, with the permission of the head librarian, withdrawn them for private study.

  'Then this place was built and a passage delved to intercept one of the Ways Kem-mec had mapped. At the same time Kepta developed a sudden interest in the age-old temples of Qur, paying them several semi-secret visits. And Qur is, as we know, the last stronghold of that weird faith distilled from the forgotten rites of the Older Ones.

  "In leaving me this one map, however, Kepta left a potent weapon. For this traces what we need most now, a route under the sea to Koom. And tradition has it that it was over this route Kem-mec went on that last journey from which he never returned. The fate which overtook Kem-mec five thousand years ago may still await those who follow in his steps today. But it was this path that Kepta and Da took this night, of that I am certain. Somewhere along its length may lie the menace which caused Amest to seal the Ways. Does mat menace still exist?"

  Zacat snorted. "We can only go and see."

  I was already laying out the scale suits and portioning the weapons. Thran laughed. "It seems that Kem-mec's kind have not deserted his calling. Let us prepare then."

  We shed our dress armor and undertunics, then pulled on the tight-fitting scale suits. The basic material, upon which the protecting scales had been laid, had elastic properties which made it cling to the skin of the wearer. A grotesque mask equipped with oax-lenses, which had the power of magnifying distant objects and also enabled those who used them to see clearly in all but absolute darkness, hung down across our shoulders ready to be pulled on.

  Once so encased, we were, as far as I knew, invulnerable to any known weapon. The smooth surface of the scales would dull and turn the sharpest blade and withstand as well burning or freezing rays.

  Over the scale suits we girded the swords Anatan had brought, hooking to their belts in addition both an old and a new type ray rod. Extra charges for our rods and the small cans of supplies went into pouches of grippon hide, to be carried slung over our backs.

  But when we were ready and turned to the door a fifth reptilian figure was awaiting us. Analia, her red wig gone and her dark hair loose about her throat, was engaged in locking about her waist the radium cell belt. To this she calmly proceeded to hook ray rods before stooping to pick up a bag of supplies.

  "Analia!" cried her brother. "What madness— “

  "I go," she interr
upted him calmly. "Where Thrala has been, there I will follow. And you cannot deny me. I enter this venture with open eyes, even as I have done from the first. And the Ways of Darkness can hold no more danger than this palace has in the past. I go."

  And with that she turned and vanished through the door. I turned to Thran, who was folding the remaining scale dress, Anatan having brought six for some reason, into as small a package as he might before slipping it into his supply pouch. He looked up at me with a trace of smile.

  "When a woman speaks with that voice, Lord Garan, it is best to allow her her own way at once, for years of argument will not bring her to your way of thinking. Analia will not delay us; she has proved her strength and courage in her mistress' service many times in the past. She goes."

  So I was forced to leave it, but the thought of a woman sharing the perils of the unknown was certainly not to my liking. And my resentment was shared by Anatan, who was enraged. Only Zacat cared nothing, being eager to test the dangers of the path before us.

  Analia was waiting for us in the hall and under her expert guidance we threaded the web of corridors and chambers in search of that ramp up which we had charged such a short, and yet such a long time ago. In spite of my unspoken doubts we attracted no attention in any of the rooms through which we passed. Our strange dress marked us as entertainers of some sort to the few half-drunken fools we did encounter.

  Once again we found and descended the broad ramp, but this time there came no suggestive piping rhythm to entangle our feet and minds, only a dry and dusty silence such as is found in the primeval mountain temples of Ru, a silence full of the dust of vanished centuries. Now the lights did not change color, only grew paler as we advanced, until at last they faded away altogether and we halted to adjust our masks with their darkness-piercing eye shields.

  The black pavement was again underfoot but now no corruption-filled ray came from above and the winged, dancing shapes were gone. Here Thran took the lead, hurrying us forward across the vast emptiness of that deserted hall.

  Another ramp, this one so steep that we must clutch a handrail of time-smoothed stone, opened before us and, without hesitation, Thran darted down it. Halfway down he sank to his knees and picked up some object which he held out to us. On the palm of his scale glove twinkled a scrap of the glittering stuff which had embellished the robes of Thrala and Da.

  "We follow the right road as this messenger tells us," he said and tossed the scrap away. But I stooped and searched for it, tucking it into my pouch.

  Down and down into an ever-thickening darkness we went, darkness which might have overpowered us entirely had it not been for our oax-lenses. Analia would have switched on her radium cell lamp, not knowing what, or who, might lie in wait for us below, but Thran would not allow it. As long as we could see at all it was better not to give warning of our approach.

  Now I noted a sudden change in the character of the walls. Before they had been of smooth glistening stone, but now they were of great blocks of some gray substance which had a faintly unpleasant sheen as if coated with thin slime. Thran nodded toward them.

  "We are entering the Ways. No one who has ever seen the handiwork of the Older Ones can mistake it."

  On and on went the ramp, growing ever steeper so that we were forced to break somewhat our headlong pace and keep a tight hold on the supporting rail. I was wondering apprehensively if it might not become too steep for our footing when it suddenly gave way to a deep trough-like path r unnin g almost level into the dense dark before us. As I stepped out upon that weird roadway I felt that those who had constructed that avenue for their own forgotten purposes were wholly alien to me and all warm-blooded creatures like me, so alien that I could not imagine their true forms and missions. What service had this road and the others like it rendered them? Why had it come to be?

  The first few steps convinced me that it had never been intended for human feet to follow. For it possessed a rounded raised center which made us slip and slide. In order to maintain our footing we were forced to slacken our pace to a mere crawling shuffle.

  I can not tell for how many miles and how many hours we followed that straight, unbranching path. But thrice we stopped to nap and break out meals from the supplies we carried. There was nothing to see or hear, only the darkness, pierced for a few feet by the power of our lenses.

  During the third stop Thran brought out his fish-skin map and Analia trained the light from her belt upon it so that he might trace out the way we had come and the way we had yet to go.

  "There is a sharp turn to the right and that is the path we must take. We must be almost upon it now."

  "Then let us go on to it," said Zacat, rising to his feet "So far there has been little in this snake hole to interest a fighting man. Where dwells the danger from which Kem-mec fled to fill his master's ear with wild tales?"

  "Before us somewhere, my Lord. And I have some belief in Kem-mec and his tales. Shall we go on and prove them?" He rolled up the map and put it back in his pouch.

  We rose to our tired feet and went on. As Thran had shown us on the map, our road split abruptly into two, one spur going to the right. Anatan and his sister had already turned into it when a gleam on the surface of the other branch caught my eye. My fingers closed upon a second small shred of robe. I held out my find to the others.

  "Could the map be wrong?" I demanded of Thran. "This says so."

  "Unless that is bait on a false trail."

  'True. But there is only one way to make sure.”

  "And that?"

  "Divide our party. Each follow a spur. See, I shall set a small infrared charge in my ray rod. For as long as it burns I will follow this road. If I come upon nothing during that time to uphold my choice I shall return here and follow yours. You do the same."

  Thran agreed at once. "That is the wisest course. Who goes with you?"

  "Zacat," answered that individual at once. "We hive hunted together before."

  "It is well." He hunted through his pouch to find and adjust the charge in the rod at his belt and I did the same. When at last the two were burning we bade each other farewell for a time, setting out upon the routes we had chosen, Thran, Anatan, and Analia to the right, Zacat and I straight ahead. My hand closed about those two scraps in my pouch as we went

  We had gone some distance when Zacat lifted the edge of his mask and sniffed the air.

  "Do you scent nothing?"

  I followed his example. The musty dryness of the air was tinged with a faint odor, an odor at once sweet and yet faintly corrupting.

  "Aye," I answered.

  "I like it not There is a stink like that in some of those old mountain tombs. Something unpleasant awaits us ahead. But that is Little reason for holding back."

  The stench grew worse as we advanced and to my amazement the light from my ray rod slowly changed color, taking on a purplish hue. I called this to Zacat's attention.

  "Some devilish business. There are things better for men to leave alone. Our friend of Koom has been hunting in forbidden ways. But now he is being hunted, which is a different matter. Let us rout out this smell."

  We abruptly came to a sharp turn in the path, the first we had encountered. Cautiously rounding the bend, we found ourselves on the edge of nowhere....

  Chapter Seven

  The Thing from the Gulf

  The path ended abruptly on the lip of an immeasurable gulf. From its depths came a faint sighing murmur, a distant hum as if some form of life crawled and had its being far beneath us.

  "The end," said Zacat. "Our choice was the wrong one."

  "I wonder," I mused. Something suspended out in the gulf had caught my eye. Two long chains, of the same substance as that which walled the Ways, hung taut and steady as if they supported some unseen weight. I unhooked my ray rod and held it before me so that the pencil of light from the still burning charge could pick out what might hang between the chains.

  "Ah—" Zacat purred like a giant Ana, for the ray reveal
ed a bridge of some light-resisting substance, a bridge that ran on out into the curtain of darkness.

  Moving the ray I traced the outlines of the bridge to see where it touched on our side of the gulf. It did not touch. A good three feet away it ended in a mass of broken splinters. Whether the break was new or centuries old we had no way of telling, but it might prove an effective barrier.

  I measured the length of the tunnel behind us. A man, if he were dexterous and had a good head for heights, might cross the gap with a running leap—if On were good to him. But, let the bridge be with smooth surface, let it display the curved ridge which had proved a hindrance to us from the first, and the gulf yawned below.

  Zacat was as quick as I to see our only chance.

  "One must stay here," he said, "and hold his ray upon the end of that death trap while the other tries for it. Then, if by the Favor of On he makes it, he must hold his torch in position until the other joins him. Simple but deadly." He laughed.

  His solution was the only one. Tightening my belt and lashing my provision bag firmly to my shoulders, I made ready. Then, before he could protest, I thrust my ray rod into his hand and turned back down the corridor. With a leaping run I passed Zacat, who was crouched to one side with rod firm, to light up my landing place.

  Then I was out over the depths, my heart pounding with a sickening beat in my ears. My feet touched the glassy surface of the bridge—and slipped. With a scrambling lunge, I threw myself forward, my straining fingers closing upon that middle ridge. And the curve, which had seemed our greatest hazard, saved me. I clutched it grimly, laying facedown on that faint shadowy surface until my wildly pumping heart quieted. Then, with the aid of one of the giant supporting chains, I was able to regain my feet.

 

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