Before The Golden Age - A SF Anthology of the 1930s

by Edited By Isaac Asimov

  * * * *

  The Story of the Rods Found in the Car

  “There is something that you carry, O Shelkslayer, that is mightier and more potent than either the shelk’s head or the fire-hose! Whence did you get those white and shining rods? “

  Tumithak told him briefly of the battle that had resulted in Tholura’s rescue, and of the finding of the rods in the car, after their victory. Zar-Emo nodded.

  “I do not think I can be wrong,’’ he said, a trifle dubiously, and then, taking the fire—hose from Tumithak’s still extended hand, he turned the screw in the long nozzle, opened a cap at its end—and drew out from its interiors the half consumed end of one of the white rods!

  “Behold the Power!“ he cried, dramatically. ‘‘The fuel by which the shelks operate their machines! And you, O Tumithak, are truly the one spoken of in our prophecy, for you have brought the one thing needed to enable us to operate the many machines that we have in our museums !“

  As he spoke. his many followers bowed their heads in worship and in awe, and Zar-Emo stood, waving the stub of the rod at Tumithak while he continued in almost a frenzy of fanaticism: “With these can the Tains power the fire-hoses which we keep in our museums! With these, we can power the strange machines that blast the corridors into the ground! We may make new corridors, far deeper than the ones we now live in, corridors so deep that the shelks and foul Mogs will never reach us! With these the Tains will know safety at last.”

  With these,’’ interrupted Tumithak, waving the priest to silence, “we will teach the savage shelks that man still knows his destiny With these, we shall drive the shelks from their stinking towers at Shawm, and with these, at the last, we shall slay, to the last one, the beasts that have for so long attempted to rule the earth

  Behind him, the boy Luramo gave a cheer. Datto slapped his chief resoundingly on the back, while Tholura nodded her head eagerly in approval. Zar-Emo and the other Tains looked as if they could scarcely believe their ears. Tumithak decided that now was a favorable time to convert them to his beliefs, and so he launched into a speech, much as he had done many times before in Loor and Yakra.

  * * * *

  Tumithak’s Speech

  He told of his own life, and of his mission; he told of his first long journey through the corridors; and lastly he told of how he had slain his first shelk and of his subsequent elevation to the lordship of the lower corridors. Then he begged the Tains to look at him, to realize that he was but an ordinary man, and that what he had done, any man could do. And in the end, the result of his speech was just as it had always been. The Tains looked upon him as something more than human; from Zar-Emo down, they swore allegiance to him; but almost to a man, they refused to believe that it was possible for them to even attempt to fight against the shelks.

  At last Tumithak turned to tile old priest and asked that he be assigned an apartment.

  “I shall probably be here for some time,” he said. “For the road to the Surface is blocked and I see no way to return to my own people until it is opened again. And it will be many sleeps before that can be accomplished.”

  “Perhaps less than you think,’’ answered the priest. “I do not want to raise your hopes, hut there may be a way to your corridors without returning to the Surface. I shall tell you more when l am sure of it,’’ and turning, Zar-Emo led the way into the inhabited corridors,

  For a period equal to three days, Tumithak lived in tile city and the Tains lavished upon him their hospital­ity. He was astounded at their food, for the Tains had preserved the method of making their synthetic food— cubes taste, and for the first time ill his life, Tumithak found that eating could be a pleasure, rather than a mere dull duty. Indeed, not only he, but Datto, Nikadur and Thopf as well, were in danger of stuffing them­selves into a state of indigestion.

  * * * *

  Life Among the Tains

  Most of the time when not employed in eating or sleeping, Tumithak and his companions spent in the great temple or museum corridor, studying the wonderful machines that had been built by the ances­tors of the Tains. The Tains had kept them in perfect condition, and they were all in perfect working order, even after so many hundred of years. Zar-Emo powered a fire hose and a disintegrating machine, and showed the party how well they still worked. These two machines were of especial interest to Tumithak, for the one he knew how to operate and the other had been mentioned frequently in that famous book that he had found, so long ago, in the deserted corridor in Loor.

  But these were not the only’ machines that the Tains had preserved, or that Zar-Emo knew the use or mean­ing of. The priest showed the strangers marvelous weapons that slew with shrill sounds ; others that, so he said, turned the very air into a deadly poison that killed all who breathed it; and then, too, there were machines that helped man, among these being the machines that made the cool white lights that illuminated these corridors.

  And all of these could now be used again, although sparingly, for even the rods that the Loorians had brought with them could not last forever. These rods were composed of a metal that had been activated by treatment which caused its atoms to break down at a terrific rate. And when it was exposed to a certain ray created in the machines its collapse into energy was greatly’ increased. But, although this method of securing energy allowed an enormous amount of fuel to be stored in a very small space, eventually even the white rods were burned up and gone. So Tumithak decided that he must have a talk with Zar-Emo concerning the best use that the rods might be put to, in order that the greatest advantage might accrue. He suggested to the priest that he and his companions arm themselves with fire-hoses and attempt a return to their pit. Zar-Emo shook his head.

  * * * *

  A Possible Alliance Suggested

  “It would be a great danger to attempt to fight your way back to the pit from which you came, Tumi­thak,’’ he said gravely. I think I can help you in a way that will not only remove all the danger, but will bring your people and mine into an alliance that will be closer than you have dreamed.

  Puzzled, Tumithak asked the Tam to explain himself, but Zar-Emo only shook his head.

  “I am not at all sure that I can do what I hope to do,” he explained, ‘‘and until I am, I prefer not to raise hopes that I may not be able to gratify.’’

  But the next day, the old man called Tumithak and Nikadur to him and led them to a deserted corridor where a strange machine was set tip. It was a ma­chine far too complicated for Tumithak to understand. In appearance it was a metal box five feet high with a number of strange transparent tubes on the top of it, inside of which tubes there glowed strange lights. Out of the side of this metal box extended a long arm, at the end of which a great soft pad was fastened, apparently by suction, to the wall of the corridor. Zar-Emo pointed down the corridor, and there, approximately a hundred yards away, was another machine, identical in every respect to this one.

  One of Zar-Emo’s lesser priests was seated on a little stool that was fastened on the side of the metal box, and now, at a word from his master, reached up and placed on his head a strange piece of apparatus that en­tirely covered his ears. Then he turned a small knob on the box, and turning, called to the man that con­trolled the farther machine. The latter also placed the strange headgear on his head, and brought his own machine into play.

  * * * *

  Trying a Sounding Machine in the Corridors

  For several minutes, the two turned and twisted the little knobs and at each twist they listened intently, as though they could hear some distant sound that was inaudible to the others. Then the nearer of them turned to Zar-Emo.

  “There is a different tune here, Zar-Emo,” he said, ‘How are we to tell what it represents?”

  The priest motioned him to get up from his seat, and then told Tumithak to take his place. Hesitatingly, the Loorian did as he was requested, and gingerly put the headpiece over his ears. As he did so a strange tone suddenly filled his ears, a continuous monotonous
hum. Tumithak took the headpiece off and looked at the chief priest inquiringly.

  ‘The machine, Tumithak,” explained Zar-Emo, see­ing the puzzled look in Tumithak’s eyes, “was used by our ancestors to detect underground veins of metal, or water or even underground caverns. It is based on the principle of the echo. One part of this arm which is fastened to the corridor wall sends out a sound into the rock, a sound of so high a pitch that human ears cannot detect it. This sound travels through the rock until it strikes some different substance and there a portion of it is reflected hack to another pert of the arm, a receiver which picks it tip and so alters it that it can he heard in the earpieces fastened on Coritac’s head.

  Now this sound is not like the sounds that we are used to thinking of. As I have said, it is far too shrill to he heard by human ears, and such sounds act quite differently from common sounds. In the first place, these sound waves can be sent in a beam, as light waves are; and in the second place, they are slightly altered by the density of the material that reflects them. Thus it is possible to tell in just what direction the reflecting material is, and whether it is liquid, solid, or, say, a cavern or hole.

  “Now it has been my thought, Tumithak, that if with this we could discover a long straight cavern running through the ground we could be fairly sure that it would be your home corridors and thus we would know in just what direction they lie. And by the help of an­other machine, some distance away, we could tell the exact distance of your corridors from here.”

  * * * *

  Locating the Loorian Corridors by Sound

  Tumithak had listened in a daze. Vaguely he had understood some part of what the Tam had said, but this last was too much for him. It was nec­essary for Zar-Emo to explain to him the mystery of the two angles and an included side in great detail before he finally saw how it would be possible to measure the distance to his home from this far-off corridor. And when he did understand his wonder was increased.

  “Truly, Zar-Emo,” he cried, “the wonders of our an­cestors were unending. But tell me. why have you gone to all this trouble to locate my home corridors ?“

  The Tam smiled proudly as he moved to take his place on the seat from which Tumithak, in his excite­ment, had moved,

  “Have you forgotten the disintegrating machine?“ he asked. “Tumithak, I intend to drive a new corridor from the pit of the Tains to the pit of the Loorians !“

  The hours that followed were exciting ones. Time and again, the workers thought they had discovered the distant corridor, only to find on further examination, that their discovery was only some small cavern or un­derground stream. But at last they detected what, from its straightness and regularity, could be nothing other than a man-made corridor. Then Zar-Emo and his men began a series of tests and problems that ended, at last, with the verification of the exact distance and direction of Tumithak’s home corridor.

  The party returned to the inhabited portion of the pit and jubilantly prepared for the work of the next day. The disintegrating machine was taken to the spot where the detectors had been and there set up, a queer, monstrous thing with a great trumpet-shaped ray projector in front, and with three seats on the back of it to accommodate the men that worked it. Zar-Emo left his men working over it and, taking Tumithak with him, returned to the city for supper.

  “I feel that you should be one of the men to take the machine through the rock, Tumithak,” he told the Loorian, as they finished the meal. “Not only because the honor surely belongs to you, but because it may be necessary to have someone to convince your friends that our mission is friendly. You will have little to do with the operation of the machine and that little will not be hard to learn.”

  So, after the time of sleep was over, the party as­sembled in the ball that contained the disintegrating ray machine. Nikadur and the Yakrans, who planned to follow Tumithak as quickly as possible, were each given one of the ancient fire-hoses, as was the boy Luramo, who insisted that he be considered one of Tumithak’s party. And to Tumithak’s surprise, another insisted that she, too, be considered a warrior - none other than Tholura, who declared that she would not let her new friends go forth to any danger without also going along. So at last it was decided to let her go with them, and then Zar-Emo approached Tumithak, who already was at his seat on the machine, and pro­ceeded to instruct him in his duties.

  * * * *

  The Operation of the Machine

  See here, Loorian,” explained the priest. “Be­hind you on this wall is a large white cross. Look­ing through this eyepiece in front of you, you will see another cross painted on this mirror in which you will also see a reflection of the’ first cross. As long as the reflected cross is superimposed on the other, your machine is going in the right direction. Should it vary by even so much as a hair’s breadth, you must at once call it to the attention of these other men who work the machine. That is all that is necessary; my men will attend to all the rest. Your party will follow you as soon as the rock becomes cool enough to walk on. Goodbye, and let us hope that everything turns out as we have planned it.”

  He turned as he spoke and gave an order to the men seated with Tumithak. One of them turned a lever, there was a blinding flash of light, and as it dulled to a faint violet glow, Tumithak saw a great hole appear in the side of the wall toward which the trumpet-like projector pointed. The other man now pulled back on his lever, pushed a button of some kind, and the. great machine moved slowly into the hole it had made. As it moved the hole grew deeper, and a hot gust of queer-smelling air swept out of it. Again the machine pushed into the hole, and again the further wall retreated. Tumithak and his friends were success­fully engaged in an act that had not been performed by men for nearly two thousand years!

  * * * *

  Boring the Tunnel

  For hours thereafter, Tumithak kept his eyes fixed to the eye-pieces of the machine. It was tedious work, for it was not often that the machine varied from the straight path on which it had been set. Once in a while, it would strike sonic new vein of rock, and this might cause it to change its direction slightly, but then Tumithak would call this to the attention of the others and the fault would be at once corrected.

  The huge white cross which Zar-Emo had painted on the back corridor wall grew smaller and smaller as the machine crept away from it, but when Tumithak could no longer see it clearly he focused the center of his own cross on the distant mouth of the new corridor and the machine continued on its way.

  The heat was terrific. Sweat was soon streaming down Tumithak’s face and the faces of the two priests. At last after what seemed to be hours of continuous moving they unanimously agreed that they must call a temporary halt. The machine was stopped and all three lay back in their seats for a much-needed rest.

  After about an hour they started the machine again. “We are probably more than half-way there,” said one of the priests, ‘but this second half will seem much worse than the first. It is not so easy for the heat to escape now as it was when we were close to the city.”

  He was right. Never had Tumithak felt such heat before, and never had time dragged so. It seemed days, days of scorching merciless misery before one of the men announced that they were at last nearing their goal. Tumithak became eager now, and so, of course, the time began to pass more rapidly. And then, at last, a strange hollow roar began to sound from the rock in front of them, and in a moment, a small hole appeared that rapidly widened and as the priests hastened to shut off the power of the machine, Tumithak leaped from his seat and found himself in an old fa­miliar corridor.

  * * * *

  A Corridor Familiar to Tumithak—

  A Letter from His Father Scratched on the Wall

  He stood in a section of that roughly unfinished corridor that lay between the Surface and the Halls of the Esthetts. Not far from here, he had once watched a group of shelks slay a group of Esthetts, and trembling with horror, had wondered why they did so. And not more than two miles down this corridor, if memory served h
im right, his band of warriors should be waiting. “Were they still there,’’ he wondered,” or had they given his party up for dead and returned to Loor and Yakra? Or had the shelks discovered them and slain them all?” Tumithak remembered with sudden misgivings the fact that Datto had told him of boasting to the shelk chief of having raided the Halls of the Esthetts. And the shelk chief had ordered an investigation! Unable to control his anxiety, thinking of a thousand and one things that might have happened, he beckoned to the two priests to follow him, and spec! down the corridor.

  As he neared the spot where his party should be, his anxiety increased, for a silence reigned that told him that the corridor was deserted. At last, he reached the place where his men should have been, to find that his fears were verified. But on one side of the wall a message had been scrawled, a message from his father

  “Tumithak,” it read, “Our guards have reported the approach of a band of shelks. The savages of the dark corridors have offered to conceal us in the clefts and caverns of their home, and so we are leaving this place. If you ever return, seek for us in the dark corridors Tumlook.’’