Thus had the professor got into actual touch with the occult--by sheer
accident. Up to that time it had been only a hypothesis; now it was a
fact. Next step was to open up direct communication.
“That was difficult. To begin with, I worked to repeat the phenomena
I had seen, getting some haphazard results from the start. My purpose
throughout was to exchange intelligent comment with the individual I had
beheld on that snow-stone within the Spot; and in the end I succeeded.
“He gave me fairly explicit warning as to when the Blind Spot should
open, not only to the eye, but in its entirety, as it had done for the
young man of whom the old lady had told me. We agreed through signs that
he would come through first.
“Understand, up to the instant of his actual arrival, I didn't know just
what he was like. I had to be content with his sign-talk, by which he
assured me he was a real man, material, of life and the living.
“I made my announcement. You know most of what followed. The Rhamda
came to Berkeley; together we returned to Chatterton Place, for it
was imperative that we hold the Spot open or at least maintain the
phenomenon at such a point that we could reopen it at will. Both of us
were guessing.
“Neither of us knew, at the time, just how long the Rhamda could endure
our atmosphere. He had risked his life to come through; it was no more
than fair that I should accede to his caution and insure him a safe
return to his own world.
“But things went wrong. It was ignorance as much as accident. At
Chatterton Place I was caught in the Blind Spot, and without a particle
of preparation was tossed into the Thomahlia.
“When I came through, the Nervina went out. Thus I found myself in this
strange place with no one to guide me. And unfortunately, or rather,
fortunately, I fell into the hands of the Bar Senestro.
“Now, for all that he is a sceptic, the Senestro is a brave man; and
like many another unbeliever, he has a sense of humour. My coming had
been promised by Avec; so he knew that somehow I was a part of the
Prophecy--the prophecy which, for reasons of his own, he did not want
fulfilled.
“So he isolated me here in the house of the Jarados. A bold sort of
humor, I call it--to defy the Prophecy in the very spot where it was
written!
“But it was fortunate. I was in the house of the old prophet, with its
stores of wisdom, secrets, raw elements and means for applying the laws
of nature. All that I hitherto had only guessed at, I now had at my
disposal: libraries, laboratories, everything. I was a recluse with no
interruptions and perfect facility for study.
“First of all I went into their philosophy. Then into their science,
and afterwards into their history. Whereupon I made a rather startling
discovery.
“Apparently I AM THE JARADOS.
“For my coming had been foretold almost to the hour. As I went on with
the research I found many other points that seemed familiar. Plainly
there was something that had led me into the Spot; and most certainly it
was not mere chance. I became convinced that not merely my own destiny,
but a higher, a transcendental fate was at stake.
“In the course of time I became certain of this. Meanwhile I mastered
most of the secrets of this palace--the wisdom of the ancient Jarados.
Though a prisoner, I was the happiest of men--which I still remain. The
Bars kept close watch over me, constantly changing their guard. And it
was on one of those occasions that I found MacPherson.
“Well, after MacPherson's coming I was pretty much my own master.
I induced the Senestro to allow MacPherson to remain as a constant
bodyguard. But I never told Pat what was what, except that some day we
should extricate ourselves.
“You may wonder why I did not open the Spot.
“There were several reasons: First, in the nature of the phenomenon it
must be opened only on the earth side, except on rare occasions when
certain conditions are peculiarly favourable. That's why the Rhamda Avec
could not do it alone; I know now that I should have imparted to him
certain technicalities. I possessed two of the keys then; now, I know
there are three.
“And I have learned that each of these is a sinister thing.
“The blue stone, for instance, is life, and it is male. Rather a
sweeping and ambiguous statement; but you will comprehend it in the end.
Were a man to wear it it would kill him, in time; but a woman can wear
it with impunity.
“Perhaps you will appreciate that statement better if you note what I
have just done through the medium of that crystal. The blue gem is an
inductor of the ether; in a sense, it is one of the anchors of the Spot
of Life, or the Blind Spot--whatever we want to call it--the Spot of
Contact.
“The other two particles--the red and the green one--are respectively
the Soul and the Material. Or, let us say, the etheric embryos of these
essentials.
“The three stones constitute an eternal trinity.
“As for the substance of the Spot itself, that I cannot tell, just yet.
But I do know that the whole truth will come out clear in the fulfilment
of the Prophecy. I am convinced that it has translated Watson, and now
Harry Wendel and the Nervina.”
“Can you control it?” asked Chick.
“To a limited extent. I have been able to watch you ever since your
coming. You did not know about Harry, but I saw him come--in the arms of
the Nervina.”
The Nervina nodded.
“It is so. I knew the Senestro. I was afraid that Harry would fall into
his hands. I had previously endeavoured to have him give the jewel to
Charlotte Fenton. I didn't trust the great Bar--”
Harry interrupted, “Only because of her distrust of the Senestro did she
decide to come through the Blind Spot with me. She knew what to do. As
soon as we got here, she bundled me off, privately nursed me back to
health if not strength, and when the time came rushed me up here at the
last second to be in at the finish.”
Watson thought of the dog, Queen. She also had come through just in time
to save his life. Did Harry know anything about her? When Wendel had
related what he knew, Chick commented:
“It's almighty strange, Harry. Everything works out to fit in exactly
with that confounded Prophecy. Perhaps that accounts for your affinity
for the Nervina; it is something beyond your control, or hers. We'll
have to wait and see.”
There was not long to wait. The days passed. The palace was full of
Rhamdas, summoned by Dr. Holcomb, who, as the Jarados himself, was now
issuing orders concerning the great day, the last of the sixteen days,
now very close at hand; the day which the Rhamdas constantly alluded to
as “the Day of Judgment.”
The Senestro went unmolested. Returning to the Mahovisal, he worked now
to further the truths of the Prophecy.
Still the millions continued to descend upon the Mahovisal. Coming from
the furthermost parts of the Thomahlia, the pilgrims' aircraft kept the
air above the city constantly alive. There were days such as no man had
ever known. Even the Rhamdas, trained to composure, gave evidence of the
strain. The atmosphere was tense, charged with expectancy and hope. A
whole world was coming to what it conceived as its judgment, and its
end. And--the Spot of Life was the Blind Spot!
At last the doctor summoned the two young men. It was night, and the
June Bug was waiting. This time the Geos himself was at the controls.
“We are going to the Mahovisal,” spoke the doctor--“to the Temple of
the Bell and Leaf. There is still something I must know before the
Judgment.” He was speaking English. “If we can bring the Prophecy
to pass just so far, and no farther, we shall be able to extricate
ourselves nicely. Anyway, I think we shall not return to the Palace of
Light.”
He held a black leather case in his hand. He touched it with a finger.
“If this little case and its contents get through the Blind Spot it
will advance civilisation--our civilisation--about a thousand-fold. So
remember: Whatever happens to me, be sure and remember this case! It
must go through the Spot!”
He said no more, but took his seat beside the Geos. The young men took
the rear seats. In a short time they had crossed the great range of
mountains and were hovering over the Mahovisal.
There was no sound. Though the city was packed with untold millions, the
tension was such that scarcely a murmur came out of the metropolis. The
air was magnetic, charged, strained close to the breaking point; above
all, the reverence for the Last Day, and the hope, rising, accumulating,
to the final supreme moment.
For the Sixteenth Day was now only forty-eight hours removed.
Both Chick and Harry realised that their lives were at stake; the doctor
had made that clear. In the last minute, in the final crisis, they must
crowd their way through the Blind Spot. Only the professor knew how it
was to be done.
At the temple they found the Nervina and the Aradna waiting. The Jan
Lucar was with them. The Geos had secured entrance by a side door. From
it they could look out, themselves unobserved, over the entire building
and upon the Spot of Life. The place was packed--thousands upon
thousands of people, standing in silent awe and worship, one and all
gazing toward the all-important Spot. There was no sound save the
whisper of multitudinous breathing.
Said Harry to Chick:
“I see Queen up there!”
Harry circled the group, and bounded up the great stairs. In a moment
he was patting his dog's head. She looked up and wagged her tail to show
her pleasure. But she was not effusive. Somehow she wasn't just like his
old shepherd. She glanced at him, and then out at the concourse below,
and lolled her tongue expectantly. Then she settled back into her place
and resumed watch--exactly as any of her kind would have held guard over
a band of sheep.
The dog was serious. Afterward, Wendel said he had a dim notion that she
was no longer a dog at all, but a mere instrument in the hand of Fate.
“What's the matter, old girl?” he asked. “Don't you like 'em?”
For answer she gave a low whine. She looked up again, and out into the
throng; she repeated the whine, with a little whimper at the end.
Harry returned to the others. Nothing was said of what he had done. At
once the Geos led the group through a small, half-hidden door, beyond
which was a narrow, winding stairway of chocolate-coloured stone. The
Geos halted.
“Dost wish the building emptied, O Jarados?”
“I do. When we come back from under the Spot of Life, we should have the
place to ourselves.”
Accompanied by the two queens the Rhamda returned to the main body of
the temple. Dr. Holcomb, Harry and Chick were left to themselves.
The professor took out a notebook. In it was traced a map, or chart,
together with several notations.
“The three of us,” said he, “are going to take a look at the under side
of the Blind Spot. This stairway leads into a secret chamber inside the
foundations of the great stair; and according to this data I found in
the palace, together with some calculations of my own, we ought to find
some of the secrets of the Spot.”
He led the way up the steps. At the top of the flight they came to a
blank, blue wall. There was no sign of a door, but in the front of the
wall stood a low platform, in the centre of which was set a strange, red
stone. The professor consulted his chart, then opened his black case.
From it he took another stone, red like the other, but not so intense.
This he touched to the first, and waited.
Inside a minute a light sprang up from the contact. Immediately Harry
and Chick beheld something they had not seen on the wall--a knob, or
button. The doctor pulled sharply on it. Instantly a door opened in the
wall.
They passed into another room. It was not a large place--about thirty
feet across, perhaps, stone-walled and with a low ceiling. From all
sides a soft, intrinsic glow was given off. There were no furnishings.
But in the centre of the ceiling, occupying almost all the space
overhead, a snow-white substance hung as if suspended. Were it not
for its colour and its size, it might have been likened to an immense,
horizontal grindstone hung in mid-air, with apparently nothing to hold
it there. Around its side they could make out a narrow gap between
it and the ceiling. And directly along its lower edge was a series of
small, fiery jewels inset, and of the order and colour of the sign of
the Jarados--red, blue and green, alternating.
The professor produced an electric torch and held it up to show that the
gap between the stone and the ceiling was unbroken at any point. Then he
counted the jewels on the lower edge. Chick made out twenty-four. Three
were missing from their sockets--all told, then, there should have been
twenty-seven.
The doctor noted the positions of the three empty sockets and, drawing
a tapeline from his pocket, proceeded to measure the distances from each
of the three--they were widely separated round the circle--from each
other. Then he turned to Chick and Harry.
“Do you know where we are?”
“Under the Spot of Life,” it was easy to answer.
“You are in San Francisco!”
“Not in--in--” Chick hesitated.
“Yes. Exactly. This is 288 Chatterton Place--the house of the Blind
Spot.” He paused for them to digest this. Then, “Harry--did you say
Hobart Fenton was with you on that last night?”
“Hobart and his sister, Charlotte. I remember their coming at the last
minute. They were too late, sir.”
The professor nodded.
“Well, Harry, the chances are that Hobart is not more than twenty
feet away at the present moment. Charlotte may be sitting right
there”--pointing to a spot at Harry's side--“this very instant. And
there may be many others.
“No doubt they are working hard to solve the mystery. Unfortunately the
best they can do is to guess. We hold the key. That is--I should correct
that statement--we hold the knowledge, and they hold the keys.”
“The keys?” Harry wanted to know more.
The professor pointed to the three empty sockets in the great white
stone above their heads. “These three missing stones are the keys.
Until they are reset we cannot control the Spot. I had found two of
them before I came through. I take it that both of you remember the blue
one?”
“I think,” agreed Chick, “that neither of us is ever likely to forget
it! Eh, Harry?”
The professor smiled. He was holding the light up to the snow-stone,
at a spot that would have been the point of intersection had lines been
drawn from the three missing gems, and the resulting triangle centred.
He held his hand up to the substance. It was slightly rough at that
point, as though it had been frozen.
Then he ran his fingers across the surrounding surface.
“Ah!” he exclaimed. “I thought so! That helps considerably. Chick--put
your hand up here. What do you feel?”
“Rough,” said Chick, feeling the intersection point. “Slightly so, but
cold and--and magnetic.”
“Now feel here.”
“Cool and magnetic, doctor; but smooth. What does it prove?”
“Let's see; do you understand the term 'electrolysis'? Good. Well,
there should be another clue--not similar, but supplementary, or rather,
complementary--on the earth side. Perhaps one of you found it while you
lived in that house.” The professor eyed both men anxiously. “Did either
of you find a stain, or anything of that sort, on the walls, ceiling, or
floor of any room there?”
Both shook their heads.
“Well, there ought to be,” frowned the doctor. “I am positive that,
should we return now, we could locate some such phenomenon. From this
side it is very easy to account for; it's simply the disintegrating
effect of the current, constantly impinging at the point of contact or
the intersection. Having acted on this side, it must have left some mark
on the other.”
Watson was still running his hand over the snow-stone. Once before, when
he had stood barefooted in the contest with the Senestro, he had noted
its cold magnetism.
“What is this substance, professor?”
“That, I have not been able to discover. I would call it neutral
element, for want of a more exact term; something that touches both
aspects of the spectrum.”
“Both aspects of the spectrum?”
“Yes; as nearly as the limitations of my vocabulary will permit. If you
recall, I showed you a simple experiment the other day in the palace.
By means of an inductor I drew out the iron principle from the ether and
built up the metal. Only it was not precisely iron but its Thomahlian
equivalent. Had you been on the earth side you would have seen nothing
at all, not even myself. I was on the wrong aspect of the spectrum.
“Also, you see here the Jaradic colours--the crimson, green and
blue--the shades between, the iridescence and the shadows. Had you
been on the other side you wouldn't have seen one of them; they are not
precisely our own colours, but their equivalents on this side of the
Spot.
“In the final analysis, as I said before, it gets down to ether, to
speed and vibration--and still at last to the perceptive limitations of
our own earthly five senses. Just stop and consider how limited we are!
Only five senses--why, even insects have six. Then consider that all
matter, when we get to the bottom of it, is differentiated and condensed
ether, focused into various mathematical arrangements, as numberless as
the particles of the universe. Of these our five senses pick out a very
small proportion indeed.
“This is one way to account for the Blind Spot. It may be merely
another phase of the spectrum--not simply the unexplored regions of the
infra-red or the ultra-violet, but a region co-existent with what we
normally apprehend, and making itself manifest through apertures in what
we, with our extremely limited sense-grasp, think to be a continuous
spectrum. I throw out the idea mainly as a suggestion. It is not
necessarily the true explanation.
“Let us go a bit farther. Remember, we are still upon the earth. And
that we are still in San Francisco, although all the while we are also
in the Mahovisal. This is 288 Chatterton Place, and at the same time
it is the Temple of the Bell. It might be a hundred or a thousand other
places just as well, too, if my hypothesis is correct; which we shall
see.
“Now, what does this mean? Simply this, gentlemen, that we five-sensed
people have failed to grasp the true meaning of the word 'Infinity.' We
look out toward the stars, fancying that only in unlimited space can we
find the infinite. We little suspect we ourselves are infinity! It is
only our five senses that make us finite.
“As soon as we grasp this the so-called spiritual realm becomes a very
substantial fact. We begin to apprehend the occult. Our five-sensed
world is merely a highly specialized phase of infinity. Material or
spiritual--it is all the same. That's why we look on the Thomahlians as
occult, and why they consider us in the same light.
“It is strictly a question of sense perception and limitations, which
can be covered by the word, 'viewpoint.' Viewpoint--that is all it
amounts to.
“There is no such thing as unreality; but there is most certainly such a
thing as relativity, and all life is real.
“Of course I knew nothing of this until the discovery of the Blind Spot.
It will, I think, prove to be one of the greatest events in history. It
will silence the sceptics, and form a bulwark for all religion. And it
will make us all appreciate our Creator the more.”
The professor stopped. For some moments there was silence.
“What are we to do now?” asked Harry.
But the professor chose not to answer. With his tape he began taking a
fresh series of measurements, with reference to the empty sockets and
one particularly brilliant red gem, which seemed to be “number one” in
the circle. From time to time the doctor jotted down the results and
made short calculations. Presently he said: “That ought to be enough.
Now suppose we--”
At that instant something happened. Harry Wendel caught him by the
shoulder. He pointed to the suspended stone.
It was moving!
It was revolving, almost imperceptibly, like some vast wheel turning
on its axis. So slowly did it rotate, the motion would have escaped
attention were it not for the gems and their brilliance.
Suddenly it came to a stop, short and quick, as though it had dropped
into a notch. And from above they heard the deep, solemn clang of the
temple bell.
“What is that?” asked Harry, startled. “Who moved the stone?”
“Can it be,” flashed Chick, “that Hobart Fenton has found the keys?”
“That remains to be seen!” from the doctor. “Come--we must find out what
has happened!”
Within a minute they knew. As they came out of the private door on the
now emptied floor of the great temple, they saw the senior queen, the
Nervina, coming down the great stairway from the Spot of Life.
“What is it?” called Harry, apprehensively.
“The Aradna!” she replied. Her voice was curiously strained. “Something
happened, and--she has fallen through the Spot!”