Forgotten Fiction

by Lloyd Eshbach

  Toward morning the terror of my surroundings had worn off to some extent, and I occupied my thoughts with a review of events leading to my falling into the valley.

  Twenty-four hours before I had been at the English aviation base in Calcutta, India, speaking with Captain Freeman. He, it was, who assigned me to the task of scouting through the air in the locality in which I had been when the storm had hit me.

  For an entire year aviators had been disappearing, planes and pilots vanishing without trace. At first it had been thought that they had crashed to earth through some fault of the men, or of the motors, but when machine after machine had disappeared, the vanishings had been credited to some powerful, human agency.

  Then, about two weeks before, one of the pilots had returned to the airport with the story of a huge helicopter, far larger than any known plane, that had swooped down upon his machine in an effort to capture it. So rapid had been the motion of the strange craft, that the smaller plane had almost been captured by great grappling hooks that hung from beneath the cloud-hawk. He had escaped by dropping almost perpendicularly toward the earth.

  And finally, just five days ago, the world was shocked by the disappearance of its greatest trans-oceanic passenger plane, the Teutonia. It had left its hangar with its cargo of passengers, had started across the Atlantic, and had vanished, as it were, into thin air.

  It was then that all the planes were equipped with machine guns, for a decisive effort was to be made to wipe the sky-menace from the face of the earth.

  Immediately after my plane had been thus equipped, and I had gone to the territory which I was to patrol, I was caught by the storm.

  And now I was held prisoner by a tribe of men as low on the scale of evolution as creatures could be and still be called men.

  As the first gray streaks of dawn began to dissipate the darkness, my eyelids closed, and I slept.

  I was awakened a short time later by the excited voices of a number of beastmen outside the cave. Then I heard a hard, stern voice, different from the rest, growl a guttural exclamation, followed by:

  “You fools have been up to something again! I’ll tear the hide from the one who is guilty, if it’s something I disapprove of. Brainless brutes!”

  A voice speaking in English!

  A moment later, a tall, broad-shouldered man clad in khaki, strode in to the cave.

  CHAPTER II

  The Evolution Master

  AN exclamation of surprise burst from the tall man’s lips as lie paused inside the cave, and peered around. “And how did you get here?” he queried in a harsh, unpleasant voice. I could not see his face—he was a dark silhouette looming large against the mouth of the cave—but I felt a distinctly menacing quality in his voice and attitude.

  Hastily I told him of my experience in the storm, my landing in the gorge, the crash, and my subsequent capture—hastily, because I wanted to dispel any doubt or suspicion of me that he might have had, for in a man of my own race lay my only hope of escape from the beastmen, or from the valley. But my inability to see his face placed me at a definite disadvantage; I could not determine his reaction to my story.

  For a few moments after I concluded my brief account, the tall man remained standing in motionless silence; then in a voice that was vaguely suggestive of hesitation and doubt, a voice that somehow didn’t seem to ring true, he spoke.

  “That—that was an unfortunate accident for you on the face of it, but it may prove to be of equally good fortune to both you and me. I’m a scientist engaged in research work in this hidden valley; and I happen to be in need of an assistant. If you will fill the bill, it will be to our mutual advantage. I—but you can’t be comfortable lying there on that hard floor! I’m an inconsiderate brute!” He chided himself in a way that seemed forced and unnatural. “I’ll have you free in a jiffy; and we can continue our talk down in my shack.” In a moment he had cut the cords that held me prisoner, and I tottered to my feet. My legs and arms were cramped from their hours of inaction, but a few minutes of chafing restored them to normalcy. And then I followed him out of the cave.

  At our appearance, the hairy men and women who had been loitering in the vicinity, fled in every direction, vanishing in the black interiors of their cave homes.

  We stood on a narrow, sloping, rather sharply curving ledge, that descended in a gradual spiral to the base of what seemed to be a great, perfectly circular pit. The ledge started high above us on the opposite side of the shaft, and completely circled the walls again and again, like the threads of a wide-set screw. And all along the ledge, at fairly regular intervals, were the mouths of many caves, the homes of the beastmen.

  At the bottom of the pit, in the very center, stood the queerest structure I have ever seen. A great sphere, it was seemingly composed of highly polished, faint lavender glass. Like a huge, glass bubble, it lay on the floor of the pit. It was evidently the “shack” my host, captor or rescuer, whichever he was, had referred to when he talked to me.

  My inspection of the shaft had taken but a moment; even while I was looking around, I followed my guide along the ledge.

  “By the way,” he broke the silence, “we may as well get acquainted. My name is Carcante, Verne Carcante. Born in England of French father and English mother; educated in England and Germany. I’m a biologist, engaged in research work along the lines of evolution.”

  “My name is James Newton,” I rejoined. “I’m an American, at present in the air forces of His Majesty, King of England. Had two years at Harvard; education cut short by financial difficulties. Since I left school, I’ve been footloose and fancy-free—an aviator because of the adventure it offers.”

  Finally our downward progress brought us to the bottom of the shaft. Quickly we crossed to the great sphere and entered the peculiar structure.

  It was the strangest building I have ever seen. Constructed of an unbroken sheet of translucent, or semi-translucent glass, seemingly blown into its globular shape, it was all of fifty feet high. Carcante informed me that its length and width were of the same dimensions as the height; the building was a perfect sphere. And not a solitary window, and only one low, round door broke the smoothness of the walls!

  The interior of this floor of Carcante’s home was flooded with light, the source of which was a large, queerly shaped bulb that hung from the middle of the wooden ceiling. By that light I saw that the room we had entered was very simply furnished, having a table, a bed, and a few chairs. In addition to this, a large, square cupboard stood close to one wall. No rug covered the rough boards of the floor; nor did anything adorn the walls of what was evidently Carcante’s living quarters. In the center of the room, coming up through the floor and reaching through the ceiling, was a wide, glass shaft with a jagged opening leading into it—evidently the means of reaching upper and lower floors.

  Motioning me to a scat, the scientist began to talk in a business-like manner, clearly and concisely, and in short-clipped sentences. While he talked, I gave him a careful inspection.

  Carcante was tall, well over six feet, and proportionately broad. But one lost interest in his body immediately, eyes drawn in fascination to his face. Iron gray hair rose in a tumbled mass above a very high forehead. A large, hawklike nose overshadowed his small, thin-lipped mouth. A square, outjutting chin, high, clearly defined cheek bones—these completed his face, except for his eyes. And those eyes were the strangest part of this strange man’s countenance. Sunken deep in his head, they seemed to be tiny pinpoints of light, glowing like fiery embers in the depths of twin caverns. Somehow they gave the impression of vast distances, yet withal, of disconcerting nearness. Carcante’s face was one that attracted attention—and held it.

  I gained the impression that he was built of the stuff that makes world-conquerors—but there was something about him that inspired a vague distrust.

  CARCANTE was speaking. “I suppose you’ve been wondering about this peculiar pit and building. There is little I can tell you about them; they’re a
lmost as much of a mystery to me as they are to you. For the shaft as you saw it, and this sphere, were here when I came, different only in two respects. In the first place, everything was overgrown with the vines and creepers of this tropical valley; and the caves were not in the wall along the ledge. They were hollowed out later by the beastmen. In addition, this sphere was not partitioned off into floors; I had that done myself. When I found it, it was a huge, empty sphere with a shaft running through it from bottom to top.

  “My idea concerning the origin of the shaft and house,” Carcante continued, “is this: ages ago I believe that a race of intelligent creatures inhabited this valley; they built these, to us, strange things. What the form of these beings was, I cannot say, but I don’t think they were human. Human beings would have constructed steps; in all the time I’ve been in this valley I haven’t seen a single flight of them. Nor would humans have built a sphere like this. However, that is unimportant and doesn’t concern us. Suffice it to say that a race such as I’ve mentioned must have existed at some time, for the valley is full of shafts similar to this one.

  “Probably there are a number of questions you would like to have me answer before I get to the point of this conversation?” Carcante paused.

  I hesitated for a second. “There are so many things that I’d like to ask, that I don’t know where to begin. For example: where did the beastmen come from—how did the prehistoric monsters survive through all these ages—oh, I believe you had better explain things in your own way, telling me whatever comes to your mind.” Carcante maintained a thoughtful silence for several moments then exclaimed:

  “I have a far better way of letting you know than telling you. This building has three floors, one below this, and one above. The cellar is my laboratory; the upper floor I use as a photograph studio. There I develop the films of the moving pictures that I take; and there I have a screen for projection. With the aid of those films I can give a much clearer explanation than I could verbally.”

  He arose then and guided me through the low, jagged opening that led into the shaft, the interior of which was encircled by a spiral ledge that led to the floor above. Rapidly we moved around and around until we reached the studio. Here, as in the room below, glowed one of those queerly shaped bulbs. My curiosity was piqued by them and I asked Carcante where he secured the power that gave them life.

  “I make use of atomic energy,” he said. “You may remember the furor created some years ago by the disappearance of Otto Meinig, a German scientist, immediately after he had announced his discovery of a way to release atomic energy. I persuaded Meinig to give me his secret!”

  I remember the incident Carcante referred to; and I could well imagine how he had persuaded the German to give up his secret. My dislike for my strange host increased.

  For a few minutes after we entered the studio Carcante busied himself with the projector; then, pointing out a seat for me, he seated himself behind the apparatus, clicked off the lights, and turned on the current that started the machine.

  “You asked about the monsters that the beastmen ride; we’ll begin with some pictures of them.”

  As Carcante spoke there flashed on the screen before us an image of huge monsters similar to those that had carried the beastmen at the time of my capture. There were several hundred of the creatures, milling and jostling about in a great enclosure.

  “That is the place where we keep our beasts of burden,” Carcante explained, “a corral which the men built, a short distance from the top of the shaft. Stegosaurs, the monsters are herbivorous saurians, whose forbears came into being back in the Jurassic period of the Mesozoic era.”

  The scene changed, showing the beastmen on the backs of the stegosaurs. We watched their activities in silence for a moment then Carcante spoke again.

  “You may wonder at the fact that these mighty beasts let the comparatively diminutive men control them; yet there is really nothing remarkable about it. The stegosaurs are naturally docile creatures, easily controlled by the superior intelligence of the men. And since we see that they always have an abundance of food they are very tractable.

  “We have tried to subjugate the other monsters of the valley, but we’ve met with little success. There is one brute, though, the triceratops, that we can control to some extent, but they are too treacherous and warlike for safe use. They are controlled by means of sharp blows being delivered on the central one of the three horns on their heads.

  “And now,” Carcante concluded, “I’ll show you some of the other monsters of the valley.”

  THE scene changed to a wide, marshy lake surrounded by a “canebrake” of huge, horsetail reeds, the stems of which were four and five inches in diameter. Far out on the bosom of the lake we saw a mighty upheaval, a tumultuous swirling and boiling of the water, suggesting some vast volcanic eruption on the lake bottom. The disturbance drew closer as we watched, finally revealing its cause.

  Six prehistoric reptiles, like dragons from a book of fairy tales, rose above the water. At first glance there seemed to be no reason for so great an upheaval, for all that I saw was heads. Six, huge, snakelike heads moving along the surface—wide, grinning jaws lined with fearful teeth—great, faceted, compound eyes, lidless and staring—each head covered with tight-stretched, glittering skin—that was my first impression of the monsters. As they entered the more shallow water, their bodies began to rise above the surface. One, in the lead, emerged first. A massive, black neck, like the trunk of a giant tree, arose twenty-five feet into the air. An amazingly large body followed, a body that was more than twenty feet thick, and about thirty feet long, a gigantic barrel of living flesh, covered with smooth, black skin that glistened in the sunlight. A twenty foot, tapering tail stretched out behind the creature, an apparently useless mass of cumbersome flesh.

  Then another and another of the creatures emerged from the water and wallowed contentedly in the mud beyond the reeds.

  “These are specimens of the saurian known as gigantosaurus africanus,” Carcante explained. “Fossilized remains of similar monsters were found in Africa by a German expedition. These, like the stegosaurs, belong to the Jurassic period of the Mesozoic era.”

  Nothing worthy of note was occurring on the screen, the monsters moving about aimlessly, so the scientist continued talking.

  “For a long time,” lie said, “I could not explain the presence of these creatures to my own satisfaction. They simply didn’t belong. But at last I’ve hit upon what I believe is the solution. This valley is surrounded on all sides by lofty mountains, forming an insurmountable barrier. One can enter or leave only through the air. It is my belief that these monsters, since they lived in an unchanged environment, did not develop as did the others of their species. Briefly stated, I believe that a static environment produces a condition of static evolution.

  “But—watch the screen!”

  The water in the vicinity of the drowsy monsters began to churn and swirl violently. The cloak of lethargy dropped from the huge saurians, and they leaped into frenzied action. Their mighty tails, that I had thought were useless appendages, delivered terrible blows to right and left. The monsters inflicted awful punishment upon each other ere they learned what had attacked them.

  A school of great, fishlike creatures had come upon them undetected, and had begun tearing them to shreds. They were well equipped to do this, with their mighty, pointed snouts, five feet long, and their wide jaws, lined with large, pyramidal, needle-sharp teeth. Ichtyosaurs, Carcante called these brutes.

  The fight was unequal; from the beginning its result was inevitable. The great gigantosaurs, outnumbered at least three to one, were drawn beneath the surface of a lake that, in the immediate vicinity, was blood red. They had taken toll of their assailants, however; nine of the creatures floated on the water for a moment, their bodies beaten to a pulp. Then they, too, sank out of sight.

  Carcante cut off the current, and began changing the film.

  “I could continue showing you
pictures of the activities of different monsters for hours and hours—but nothing would be gained by that.

  “You asked me about the beings you call beastmen. I’m going to tell you about them—but not merely to satisfy your curiosity. I’ll tell you because, in them lies my reason for telling you what I have already told you, and for my needing an assistant. Prepare yourself for the unexpected, for you’ll be surprised and shocked.

  “But before I show you these pictures, I’d better tell you of certain things I’ve learned about evolution, things that will make it easier for you to understand. There are numerous explanations of the cause of evolution—segregation, adaptation, and a dozen others—but all are wrong. To the world, the cause of evolution is an unsolved mystery. But I’ve discovered what’s behind it all—and I can prove my claim!

  “Evolution, that infinitely slow climb up from the unicellular, protoplasmic mass, the amoeba—that gradual advance from sea-slime to jelly-fish, to invertebrates—reptiles—mammals—man—evolution, the great riddle of biology, is caused by something within the body! The excretions of one of the ductless glands brings it about!

  “Years ago I learned that this was so; and immediately I set about attempting to discover a means of accelerating the painfully slow process. Ability to do this presented possibilities so vast, that I believed and still believe, that such a discovery would change the entire course of human existence. Think of it—the countless ages required for the upward climb, covered in one gigantic leap! A short cut to a seat with the gods!

  “Keep what I’ve said in mind as you watch these pictures.” And Carcante, after switching off the light, started the motion picture projector again.

  For some moments I saw nothing that appeared on the screen before me; my mind was completely occupied by the statements the scientist had made. I had studied some of the facts of evolution, and had read about certain fantastic theories that had been advanced by way of explanation; but never anything so revolutionary as this statement of Carcante. But finally something pierced my mental fog, and I turned my attention to the screen.