The Waters Retreat
The eight days that followed the discovery of the crack were among
the most harrying I had ever spent. Indeed, they were among the most
harrying that any resident of Atlantis had ever spent. That the peril
was acute became more and more apparent as the days went by and the
damage was not repaired--the submarine disaster which I had witnessed
was but the precursor to other and not less frightful disasters. Vessel
after vessel battled with the swirling waters in the effort to force
itself against the wall and cement the crack; and vessel after vessel
was shaken away like a twig by the fury of the maelstrom. Sometimes,
fortunately, the portholes were shut in time and the crew managed to
save their lives; but on other occasions the maddened waters snatched
their prey; and before a week had gone by Atlantis was mourning for
seven lost parties of rescuers.
All the country was now in a tumult, I might almost say in a delirium.
The regular currents of life had stopped short; men no longer went
about their daily duties; the libraries and art galleries were
deserted; the young were without tutors, the governmental departments
without clerks; and the cities would have been without bread, had it
not been for the drastic orders of the High Chief Adviser. But citizens
who once had been amply occupied would loiter aimlessly about the
streets, or would flock to the Hall of Public Enlightenment to hear the
latest report over the Autophone; or else they would pace nervously
along the colonnades, or stand discussing in small groups, nerve-racked
and bewildered as men under sentence of death. Though I never heard
them mention the fear that must have been uppermost in their minds, yet
their pale faces and shuddery manner gave proof of the dread that was
preying upon them; and my former shipmates and I had reason to know
how overmastering was their terror, for that aversion I had already
noted was deepening, and the people would glance at us with hostility
and even accusation in their eyes, looking mute reproach at us, as
though our coming had been responsible (as indeed it had been) for the
threatened end of their world.
Every morning five or six of the little intra-atomic submarines would
leave Atlantis through the valve in the eastern wall, where the waters
of the Salty River were forced back into the sea. And in the evening
(if they survived till evening) they would return through the valve in
the western wall, where the waters of the Salty River found entrance.
In the interval, their occupants would work as courageously as I had
ever known men to work, warring against odds that were apparently
insurmountable; while all Atlantis would stand watching, or waiting
at the Autophone for news of their progress. It seemed wrongful to my
comrades and me that these men, brave and willing as they were, should
risk their lives to repair an injury which we had caused; and so at
Captain Gavison’s suggestion several of us volunteered to join the
rescuing forces. But the High Chief Adviser, although expressing his
gratitude, refused our offer in terms that could admit of no reply; for
the repairing crews, as he explained, consisted of skilled mechanics
especially trained for their duties and therefore irreplaceable.
Fortunately, our assistance was not necessary. On the eighth day, the
officials in charge of the repairs decided upon a change of tactics;
and then it was that the “Acrola,” a specially equipped submarine
provided with five anchors and an extra battery in intra-atomic
engines, made its way out of the Salty River and around the glass
dome to the scene of the damage. Truly, it was time that something
desperate was done, for, according to official measurements, the crack
had expanded between nine and ten inches since its detection. Thanks
to its unusual powers of resistance, however, the “Acrola” withstood
the buffeting of the waters and remained pressed against the wall while
Captain Thermandos and his crew pumped the cement into the innumerable
fissures. Except for the extraordinary courage of the men, it is
probable that they too would have failed, for the task occupied them
for more than six hours, any moment of which might have been their
last; and they not only had to fill the cracks, but had to hold to
their post till the cement had begun to harden and was no longer in
danger of being washed away.
But the notable fact is that they succeeded. Though they were worn and
haggard from their exertions, yet they had succeeded magnificently.
They had saved Atlantis! After all, the flood-gates would not
burst!--the devouring waters would never race along the streets and
colonnades! The people might return calmly to their work, certain that
tomorrow would bring no new menace.
* * * * *
Such, at least, was the general impression. And so great was the public
relief that the pendulum swung violently from a crisis of despair to an
extreme joy. Like men newly awakened from a nightmare, the Atlanteans
refused to believe that the peril had not been utterly wiped away; and
so great was the force of the reaction, so sudden the snapping of the
tension, that for a while their emotions controlled their heads, and
their desire to feel safe became converted into a conviction that they
were safe. Later, many of them were to awaken from their self-hypnosis;
but during the celebration that followed the repairs, the people almost
without exception, acted as if convinced of their rescue; and all the
speakers at the great public gatherings referred in positive terms to
the deliverance of Atlantis; and the songs that were sung were songs
of thanksgiving, as of triumphant escape from a foe; and the games and
dances and festive processions were those of a people wild with joy of
new-won salvation.
Yet even at the time there was at least one dissenting voice. Like
most dissenting voices at a moment of popular emotion, it was but
little heard, and then was heard contemptuously; yet it was often to be
remembered in later days, when the occasion called for little beyond
regret.
Among the seven governmental experts sent to investigate the repairs
and report on their soundness, there was one who strenuously challenged
the views of his colleagues. While the other six agreed that the damage
had been remedied beyond possibility of a further disturbance, the
seventh (Peliades by name) brought in a vigorous minority report in
which he contended that the relief was only temporary.
His plea, as I remember it, ran somewhat as follows:
“For four or five years--possibly for ten--the repairs will prove
adequate; but after that period the damage will re-appear in a much
more aggravated form than before. For the cement constitutes a foreign
element in the glass, and produces an abnormal bulge, so placing an
exceptional strain upon those portions which are still sound. For a
while the wall may be able to endure the strain, but in the course
of time the additional tension will become too great for the brittle
material of the wall to resist; and first small cracks will appear, and
then larger, growing by inches and by fractions of inches, until the
break spreads towards the surface, and the tremendous pressure of the
ocean shatters the remaining barrier. This effect, of course, will take
years before it begins to be noticeable; but when finally it becomes
apparent, the crack will have spread so far that only heroic measures
will be able to save Atlantis.
“The remedy, therefore, is to undertake the immediate erection of a
new glass bulwark against the affected portion of the wall. Prodigious
though this effort will necessarily be, we will probably be able to
complete the work in time. But unless we do complete it, we will find
ourselves within a hair’s breadth of catastrophe.”
Unfortunately--most unfortunately, in view of what ensued--Peliades’
warning was scarcely heeded. In some quarters he was denounced as a
crank, a mad alarmist; in other quarters he was openly laughed at,
or derided as the victim of hysteria; while the majority paid no
attention to him at all. Least sympathetic of his hearers were his
fellow specialists; for these, in response to an inquiry by the High
Chief Adviser, testified at length as to the scientific unsoundness of
Peliades’ theories, and disproved his views to their own satisfaction
and that of the people.
And so the dissenter’s motions were quietly tabled, and Atlantis
returned to its normal duties with confidence in the future.