The End of Time
Page 3
became discouraged. Yet she never would look out the window.
"I can't bear to see those poor souls lying about like rag dolls," sheexplained. "The only thing that keeps me sane is the hope that we mayreawaken them."
* * * * *
It was on the evening of the third day that Baron lifted the headsetfrom his burning ears and admitted failure.
"We've explored everything but the super-short waves," he sighed."I'll have to get equipment from the laboratories before we start onthose."
June nodded from where she perched on a high stool across the table.But Manthis did not hear. He was making delicate adjustments on hisreceiving set and listening with rapt attention.
"I've got something," he cried. "Jack. June. Plug in on my panel.Someone is talking. It's very loud. Must be close."
Instantly the others did as he ordered, but were able to catch onlythe last inflections of a ringing voice. Then silence settled oncemore.
"What did he say," the youngsters cried in one breath.
"Couldn't understand. Some foreign language." The chemist was furiouswith disappointment. "But I'd recognize that voice among a thousand.We must get in touch with him. Perhaps he can help us. God knows weneed assistance. Quick, Jack. You're an expert. See if you can pick upa reply."
Baron leaned over his instruments, heart thumping. The dreadfulloneliness against which he had been fighting was broken. Others werealive!
Minutes passed and the evening light died away. They were too excitedto strike a light. Shadows crept out of the corners and surroundedthem. At last a faint voice grew in their ears. But again the wordswere unintelligible.
"Sounds a little like Greek," puzzled the girl, "but it isn't."
Baron adjusted the direction finder and made scribbled calculations.
"Coming from the southeast and far away," he breathed.
"I caught a word then," gasped the doctor. "'Ganja,' it was."
"What does that tell us?" snapped Jack, his nerves jumping.
"Ganja is the Hindu word for hashish, that's all. My Lord, man, don'tyou understand? The station is in India. Those who operate it areusing Andrev's solution as we are. I--"
"Listen!" shouted Jack.
* * * * *
There was a grinding and clashing in the receivers. Then a new voice,harsh and strained with excitement, almost burst their eardrums.
"Beware! Beware!" it screamed. "Do not trust him. He is a devil andhas put the world asleep. His mind is rotten with hashish. He is ademon from--" Then came a dull, crunching sound. The voice screamedand died away.
In the darkened laboratory the faces of the three listeners stood outlike ovals of white cardboard.
"What do you make of that?" stammered Baron at last.
"It looks as if the only persons alive, in New York at least, arehashish addicts--the most debased and murderous of drug fiends." Thedoctor stopped, his eyes dilating with horror. June crept close to himand threw an arm around his shaking shoulders. "Can't you see? Theirtime-sense expanded too. Like us they were unaffected. But unlike usthey use the pure drug. Hashish smokers are without exceptionhomicidal maniacs, vicious criminals. God!"
"Are they responsible for the end of time?" queried Jack.
"I don't know. Perhaps some master mind among them is back of it--someengineering wizard who has succumbed to the drug so recently, or whohas such a strong constitution that his intelligence has not beendestroyed."
The little doctor dragged off his headset, disarranging his sparsegray hair. His face was tired and worn but his jaw thrust forwardpugnaciously.
"We're making headway," he cried. "We know the probable author of thecatastrophe is a drug addict and that he is located nearby. We know hehas no scruples, for the man who warned us undoubtedly was killed. AndI'm convinced those extremely short wave bands hold the secret. Let'sknock off for the day. We look like ghosts. To-morrow morning you andJune get what equipment you need from across the river. I'll stay hereon guard. You'd better raid a drug-store and get some more of ourlife-saver, too. It's listed under Cannabis Indica."
* * * * *
The next morning dawned clear and cold. It was early October and therewas a chill in the apartment. Baron swung his legs over the edge ofthe davenport in the living room and stared out at the frost-coveredtrees of Central Park. The leaves were falling before the brisk windand forming little eddying mounds over the forms of those lying aboutthe streets. Jack shivered at the thought of the millions and millionsof victims of the disaster who littered the Earth. They seemed toaccuse him of still being alive. Well, if Manthis was right, perhapsall could be revived before winter set in.
June was singing as he and the doctor came to breakfast. Apparentlyshe wished to forget the events of the previous night, so they laughedand joked as though they intended to go on a picnic rather than acrossa dead city.
The hotel lobby was as they last had seen it when they descended. Thebellboys still nodded on their benches. A travelling salesman washunched over a week-old Times as if he would awake in a few minutes,glance about guiltily and resume his reading. The child they hadrescued still lay on the divan. Her golden hair framed her cheeks likea halo. One arm was thrown above her head. She seemed ready to awake,though she had not breathed for days.
"It all makes me feel so lonely," whispered June, clinging to theengineer's arm. "I want to cry--or whistle to keep up my courage."
"Don't worry," Jack replied softly, patting her hand and speaking withmore assurance than he felt. "We'll find a way out."
She squeezed his arm and smiled at him with new courage. For months,in fact ever since his first visit to the Manthis apartment, Baron hadadmired the doctor's charming daughter. Although nothing had beensaid of love between them they often had gone to a dance or thetheater together, while a firm friendship had been cemented. Now theircloser association and the unflinching bravery which she showed wasripening this into a stronger bond.
* * * * *
They went out into the crisp morning, stepped across the body of astreet sweeper who lay in the gutter, and entered the doctor'sautomobile. Through the silent city they drove, Baron watchingcarefully to avoid striking stalled cars or grotesquely sprawlingbodies.
There was a tangle of wrecked automobiles in the center of theQueensboro Bridge and they were forced to push them apart to getthrough. While they were engaged in this arduous work, a driftingferry bumped into a pier, shaking the dreaming captain into asemblance of life at the wheel.
"I used to like fairy tales," moaned June. "They're dreadful, really."
She clung to him like a frightened child. He drew her close and kissedher.
"I love you, June," he whispered, as though fearful that the sleepingdrivers of the tangled cars might overhear. "Don't be afraid."
"I'm not--now," she smiled through eyes filled with tears. "I've lovedyou for months, Jack. Whatever happens, we have each other."
He helped her back into the car and drove on in silence. At last theRothafel plant gloomed before them, forbidding as an Egyptian tomb.With a feeling that he was entering some forbidden precinct, Jack ledthe way to his office. Somehow, without its usual bustle and brightlights, it seemed alien.
Once inside he forgot his hesitation and set about collectingequipment--queerly shaped neon tubes, reflectors, coils, electrodes.Soon there was a pile of material glinting on top of his desk.
They were exploring a deep cabinet with the aid of a flashlight when astrange clicking sound made them whirl simultaneously. In a corner ofthe room a deeper blot of shadow caught their eyes. Jack snapped onthe flash. In the small circle of light a long, cadaverous faceappeared. Thin lips were drawn back over wide-spaced yellow teeth.Black eyes stared unwinkingly into the light. The flash wavered as theengineer tried to get his nerves under control.
"It's nothing," he assured the trembling girl. "A night watchmancaught as he was making his rounds, pro
bably. Don't get excited." Hewet his lips.
"He's alive!" screamed June. "The eyelids! They moved!"
* * * * *
"Yes, I'm alive," boomed a hoarse voice. "I thought I was the only manGod had spared. Pardon me for frightening you. I was sothunderstruck...."
The stranger stepped forward. He was dressed in a long black topcoat,high collar and string tie. The clicking noise was explained when herubbed his long white hands together, making the knuckles pop liketiny firecrackers.
"Ivan Solinski, at your service." He smiled with what evidently wasintended to be warmth, again