CHAPTER XIII

_You Can't Down the Marines_

"He's pulling out of it! Keep it up, Gotch!"

Dick heard the words and opened his eyes. He stared in amazement at

the faces about him. Honest American faces under tropical helmets and

above a uniform that he had never expected to see again. It couldn't

be real. And yet it was. One word broke from his lips:

"Marines!"

"He's got it. Don't let him slip, Gotch.", grinned one of the friendly

faces, and the man named Gotch, who presumably had some qualifications

for his job, continued what was meant to be a gentle massage of the

nerve centers along Dick's spine.

"I'm all right." Dick muttered, beginning to realize his

surroundings. He was lying on a strip of prairie near the beach, on

which the waves were breaking in low ripples about a motorboat that

was drawn up.

He sat up. The world was swimming about him, but he seemed to have no

broken bones. Not far away was the wrecked plane, an incongruous mass

of streaks where the fabric had ripped through the gas-paint. "Where

are the others?" Dick muttered.

Then he was aware of Fredegonde Valmy lying with a white face under a

shrub. Her eyes were open, and turned toward him.

He heard Luke Evans's voice. The old man hobbled round from Dick's

back, one arm in a bandage.

"She's hurt rather bad, Rennell, but we won't know how bad till we can

get her away," he said. "You've been lying here about an hour, since

we crashed. President Hargreaves made them take him to the fleet in

the other motorboat to see what he could do. He's assumed command.

"You see, Rennell, that damn gas caught the fleet and put pretty near

every man out of commission for good. But these fellows wasn't going

to give up. So, since all their officers were gone, they took two of

the boats and their arms and equipment, and came ashore to settle

accounts. And they won't believe there's anybody on the island or any

buildings. And I can't make 'em believe it. God, Rennell, those

invisible devils may attack us at any moment. I don't understand what

they're waiting for."

Gotch spoke: "We know you're Captain Rennell, sir. And this gentleman,

we know him too, but he seems a bit queer in his head. Talking of the

Invisible Emperor's headquarters on this island, a mile or so inland.

The only invisible thing we've found is that piece of a garment we

pulled off you."

"I broke my watch ray machine in the fall, and I can't make them

believe, Rennell," almost wept old Evans. "Tell them I'm not crazy."

Dick got upon his feet with an effort, staggered a little, then made

his way to Fredegonde. He kneeled down beside the girl. She was

conscious, and smiled faintly, but she could not speak. He pressed her

hand, rose, and came back. "Mr. Evans is not crazy," he said. "The

headquarters of the gang is over there." He pointed. "Didn't President

Hargreaves tell you?"

"He was kind of incoherent, sir." The marines looked at one another,

wondering. Was Captain Rennell crazy too?

"We've had scouts out through the jungle, sir. There's nothing within

five miles of here. They had a clear view through to the sea from the

top of a hill."

"I've been there." Dick spoke with conviction. "I must tell you

they've got devices that make them practically irresistible. That gas

and other things. And they're invisible. But if you boys are willing

to follow me, I'll lead you. It means death. I don't know what they're

waiting for. But--are you willing to follow me?"

"We'll follow you, sir"--after a pause, during which Dick read in

their eyes the desire to humor a crazy man. "We'll follow to hell,

sir--if that gang's really there."

"Take your arms, then!" Dick pointed to the stacked rifles.

A minute later the twenty-odd Marines, forming an open line that

extended from one side of the clearing to the other, were on their way

toward the headquarters of the gang. And Dick, leading them, though

his head was reeling, felt as if his own reason was slipping from him.

Had he only dreamed all this? Was it possible that the headquarters of

the Invisible Emperor existed on this desolate prairie? If it was

true, why had they suddenly become silent, inert? Why had they not

long ago wiped out these few Marines? And the gale--was it now

sweeping northward on its mission of destruction?

* * * * *

Half an hour passed. Then the brown patches of the foundations came

into view upon the open ground. Here were the hangers, here was the

central building with the Emperor's headquarters. And nothing was

visible, nothing stirred, yet at any moment Dick expected the rattle

of machine-gun bullets or some more terrific method of destruction.

"Halt!" The line stood still. "I am going forward ahead or you. You'll

follow at a distance of twenty paces. When you see me stop, feel for

the door in the wall, and if I disappear, follow me. You understand?"

The Marines assented cheerfully. No harm in humoring this poor devil

of an officer who had crashed and lost his wits. Like Luke Evans,

shambling up through the line to Dick's side. Dick advanced. At any

moment now the concentrated fire of the Emperor's men should blast

them all to smithereens. Nothing happened.

And it was no dream, for Dick's outstretched hand encountered the

exterior wall of the building. He had gauged his way accurately, too,

for a step or two brought him to the door. He stepped inside. He was

inside the private door that led to the Emperor's quarters, through

which he had passed with Fredegonde, Hargreaves, and Luke Evans in

their flight. It had been broken down, contrary to the girl's

predictions, and the deserted passage within was perfectly visible to

them all.

Stupefied, the Marines bumped and jostled with each other as they

crowded in. If they had been anything but Marines, their own heads

might have been turned at the discovery of this sudden materialization

of a building out of nothingness.

Being Marines, they only grinned sheepishly, and followed along the

corridor.

* * * * *

The first human being they saw was one of the guards, in a black

tunic. He was leaning against a wall, and he was a human being no

longer. He looked as if he was asleep, but he was stone dead, with a

placid look on his face.

Two more dead guards lay across each other, with smiles on their

faces: and there was a workman in a blue blouse who had been in a

tremendous hurry to get somewhere, from his appearance, and had never

got there. He had fallen asleep instead, and never wakened.

Dick found a stairway and led the way up. He thought it ran up to the

laboratory, but, instead, the room into which he emerged was the

ante-room of the Invisible Emperor's audience hall. Six dead guards

lay in a heap in front of the curtain, and they had died as

unconcerned as their fellows, to judge by the pacific expressions on

their faces.

Dick passed through into the throne room. The Marines, behind him, for

the first time uttered exclamations of awe--of pity.

The terrific scene that met Dick's eyes would be burned into his brain

till his last day.

Upon his throne, head flung back, sat the Invisible Emperor, his

features set in a sardonic leer of death. And all about him, some

sitting, some lying, supporting one another, were his court, officers

in black uniforms with the silver braid, and women in court dress. And

all were dead too. But they had not known they had died. They had

fallen asleep--upon the instant that their own volatile gas reached

them.

* * * * *

"I guess that's the explanation, sir," said old Luke Evans. "Those

devils made the whirlwind and charged it with the gas. But when you

reversed that lever, you reversed the process. Instead of projecting

the force outwardly, you made a suction, and every atom of the gas

that hadn't travelled beyond the radius came rushing back and filled

the building. If we'd entered a half-hour later, we'd have been dead

ones ourselves, but the gas was volatile enough to disperse through

the chinks and crannies. Anyway, it's all over now."

Yes, it was all over, Dick thought, as he sat in his deck chair upon

the cruiser that was bearing him northward. The menace to world

government had been destroyed and with it all who had been behind it.

There would be a new order in the world, a new and kindlier

government. Men would feel closer to one another than in the past.

Half the personnel of the fleet had escaped the invisible death, and

only one cruiser and the dirigible had been lost in the confusion.

There would be a great reception when they put into Charleston.

Dick bent over Fredegonde, who was asleep in her chair beside him. The

ship's surgeon had promised recovery for her. She shouldn't suffer for

her half-voluntary part in the business, Dick said to himself. It was

going to be his task to help her to forget.

[Advertisement: ]

Prisoners on the Electron

_By Robert H. Leitfred_

[Sidenote: Fate throws two young Earthians into desperate conflict

with the primeval monsters of an electron's savage jungles.]

[Illustration: _The gaping mouth jerked forward._]

The blood-red glow of a slanting sun bathed the towers of New York's

serrated skyline, then dropped into a molten sea beyond the winter

horizon. Friday, the last day of Jupiter, the thirteenth month of the

earth's new calendar, had drawn to a close. In a few hours the year of

1999 would end--at midnight, to be exact.

Far below the towers stretched well lighted canyons teeming with

humanity. At an upper level where once the elevated trains had roared

and rumbled in an antiquated period long past, an orderly mass of

workers and shoppers was borne at an incredible speed from lower

Manhattan to towering apartments that stretched northward to

Peekskill. The northbound traffic was heaviest at this hour and the

moving sidewalk bands were jammed to their capacity.

Street cars, now obsolete, had vanished from the streets under the new

order of things as had also passenger cars, taxis and trucks. Speed

predominated. Noise had practically been eliminated. Except for the

gentle throb of giant motors far underground, the city was cloaked in

silence.

At regular intervals along the four-speed moving bands that formed the

transportation of the great metropolis, huge circular shafts of steel

mounted upward beyond the roofs of the tallest buildings. Within these

shafts, swift elevators carried passengers who lived in the outlying

districts to the level of the station platforms of the interstate

operating transport planes.

* * * * *

Close to the entrance of one of the steel shafts stood a young man a

little above medium height. His deep-sunken eyes were those of a

dreamer, a searcher. They were the eyes of a man who had seen strange

and startling things. At present they were staring into the pulsing

wave of humanity flowing northward on the endless steel bands beyond

the platform.

Quite suddenly they lighted with pleasure as a man and a girl detached

themselves from the swift moving river of people and hurried to the

spot where he stood.

"Think we were never coming?" Karl Danzig's eyes were much like those

of Aaron Carruthers. Just now they sparkled with suppressed

excitement.

Aaron Carruthers smiled in turn. "No, Karl. Any man but you. I

couldn't imagine you being late." He turned his attention to the slim,

dark haired girl. "Nanette," he murmured, extending his hand, "I

didn't think you'd come."

Dazzling white teeth caught the glow of the blue-white incandescents

along the platform, and became under the bow of her red lips a string

of priceless pearls.

"I had to come, Aaron. Karl has done nothing but talk of your amazing

discovery. The experiment fairly frightens me at times especially when

I recall the sad fate of your friend, the missing Professor Dahlgren.

I wish you boys would give up the idea--"

"Nan, be still," broke in Karl, with brotherly rudeness. Turning to

Carruthers. "Everything all ready, Aaron?" he asked.

* * * * *

Carruthers nodded. "As far as humanly possible. The element of error

is always present. I've checked and re-checked my calculations. I've

augmented the vacuum tubes by installing three super-dimensional

inverse power tubes." He clasped the girl's arm. "The street is no

place to talk. Let's go to the laboratory."

They crossed the moving bands by an overhead bridge and cut down a

narrow canyon to the entrance of a crosstown series of bands. They

stepped onto the first band. The speed was moderate. From there they

moved over to the second. Carruthers was in a hurry. He guided the

girl and her brother across the third to the fourth band of moving

steel.

Buildings slid past them like wraiths in the electric light. They felt

no winter chill, for the streets and platforms were heated by a

constant flow of warm air from slots ingeniously arranged in the band

of swift moving metal upon which they stood. Within a few minutes they

had arrived at their destination. Quickly they reversed their path

across the moving bands until they reached the disembarking platform.

A short distance from the station they came to the entrance of a huge

tower building.

Carruthers nodded to the doorman and they were admitted into a marble

hallway. A silent, unattended lift bore them swiftly to the

seventy-fifth floor. Down a deep carpeted hallway they moved.

Carruthers touched his door. It opened. He stood to one side as the

other two entered.

* * * * *

Nanette cried with delight at the luxurious splendor of the place.

"Why, Aaron, I never dreamed the night view could be quite so

delightful! I do believe that if the horrid government had not taken

down that little Statue of Liberty and substituted the Shaft Triumph

in its place, that I could easily see her fingers clasping the torch

she was reputed to hold.

"Progress, dear girl," shrugged Carruthers, holding out his hands for

her cape. "By the way, have you folks eaten?"

"Not in a week," said Karl.

"Von Sternberger's food tablets," informed the girl.

Carruthers nodded. His deep-set eyes regarded them appraisingly. "Any

ill effects?"

"None whatever," spoke Danzig. "Neither of us have the slightest

craving for food."

"Good. Did you bring any with you?"

"A whole carton."

"Then I guess we're already to make the experiment. You're sure.

Nanette, that you're not afraid of...."

"Don't be silly, Aaron. I haven't grown up with Karl for nothing. He's

always used me for the disagreeable end of his crazy experiments. And

besides," she smiled on both men. "I have a woman's curiosity for the

unknown."

"Very well," said Carruthers gravely. From his waistcoat pocket he

took a ring of keys and inserted one of them into the lock of an

immense steel door. "Our laboratory," he announced, swinging the door

wide.

* * * * *

Nanette's eyes opened wide at the paneled whiteness of the room. Most

of the far side was taken up with electrical machines, dynamos,

generators and glass enclosed motors of an advanced type. Overhead,

concealed lights made the room as light as day. A heavy glass railing

shielded a square spot in the exact center of the room.

"What's that for?" asked the girl.

Danzig and Carruthers both regarded it with troubled eyes. It was

Carruthers who spoke.

"That railing marks the spot where Professor Dahlgren stood when the

rays of our atomic machine struck him."

"You mean," breathed the girl, "that he never moved from that spot

after the rays touched his body? What happened?"

Karl had already divested himself of his coat and was checking the

copper cables leading into a strange machine.

"It was rather curious," remarked Carruthers. "The moment the ray

touched him his body began to dwindle. But evidently he suffered no

pain. As a matter of fact his mind remained quite clear."

"How did you know?"

"As he dwindled in size," continued Carruthers, "he shouted warningly

that the rays had become confused and for us to cut the switch. But

the warning came a fraction of a second too late. Even as my fingers

opened the contact, his body dwindled to a mere speck and disappeared

entirely from sight."

* * * * *

Nanette gazed with staring eyes at the ill-fated spot. Her face had

grown steadily paler. "Oh, Aaron! It's awful! What do you suppose

happened?"

Carruthers eyes glowed strangely. "I didn't exactly know at the time,

Nanette. I'm not sure that I know even now. But I've got a theory and

Karl has helped me to build a second machine to flash a restoring ray

on the square spot. What will take place I cannot even conjecture."

"Let's get on with the experiment," interrupted Karl. "Nanette can be

shown later what she is to do."

Carruthers turned to Danzig. "All right. Karl. Draw up a chair to your

machine. And you, Nanette, sit close to this switch. It's off now. To

turn it on, simply push it forward until the copper plates slide into

each other. To turn the current off, you pull sharply out. However, we

aren't quite ready."

He shifted his position until he stood before a third machine

slightly smaller than the other two. His fingers clicked a switch. The

dial of the instrument glowed whitely.

"It's important," continued Carruthers, "that we first locate our

interference. We have here, Nanette, a common television receiving

apparatus capable of picking up news and pictures from any corner of

the globe. Ready, Karl?"

Danzig clicked on the switch before his own machine and turned one of

the many dials mounted on the panel in front of him. A faint hum

filled the room as the generator settled to its task.

* * * * *

Carruthers reached up and dimmed the overhead lights. A screen of what

looked like frosted glass set in the wall glowed luminously. The

interior of a famous broadcasting studio became mirrored in the glass

screen. Into it stepped the master of ceremonies. He spoke briefly of

the New Year's activities that would soon take place when the

twenty-eighth day of Jupiter ended at midnight.

"Boston," said Carruthers. "Too near."

"Try Frisco," suggested Karl. "The tubes ought to be sufficiently

heated by this time."

The dial whirled beneath Carruthers slender fingers. The pictures

framed in the frosted panel faded. Another took its place. San

Francisco--an afternoon concert. Carruthers saw and listened for a

moment, then moved thousands of miles out to sea.

Shanghai drifted into the panel, announcing in sing-song accents the

weather reports. Following this came reports of various uprisings

along the Manchurian border.

While yet the three listeners and watchers bent their heads toward the

panel in the wall, a strange thing occurred. The silver frostiness of

the screen became violently agitated with what looked like tiny sparks

darting in and about each other like miniature solar systems.

Shanghai faded from the picture. All that remained visible now was the

jumbled mass of needle-pointed sparks of luminosity.

"Careful," warned Carruthers. "Slow up the speed of your reflector,

Karl. There, that's better. Watch the meter reading. I'm going to step

up the power of the dimensional tubes. Steady!"

* * * * *

From an invisible reproducer came a sharp, metallic crackling like

machine-gun bullets rattling on a tin roof. The sparks on the screen

became violently agitated, pushing around in erratic circles and

ellipses. They glowed constantly in shades of bright green through the

blues into the deep violets of the color scale.

"What do you read?" asked Carruthers.

"Point seven six nine," answered Karl.

"Shift it back towards the blue, about two points lower on the scale."

Danzig twisted two dials at the same time with minute exactness.

"Point seven six eleven," he intoned.

"Hold it," ordered Carruthers. "Blue should predominate." He turned

his eyes on the dancing sparks on the screen. They glowed now a deep

indigo blue. "Lock your dials against accidental turning. We're tuned

to the vanishing point."

Danzig rose to his feet. "What will we use?"

Carruthers looked hastily around the room. "Most anything will do."

His eyes rested on a glass test tube. Quickly he rose to his feet and

removed it from the wall rack. Then bending over the glass railing

that enclosed the mysterious square he placed it on the floor. He

turned now to the girl.

"Quiet, now, Nanette, and don't under any condition leave the chair.

The path of the ray should pass within two feet of you, having a wide

margin of safety. All right, Karl. Set the dials of the inverse

dimensional tubes at point seven six eleven, and switch the power to

the Roentgen tube."

Through the dimly lighted laboratory came a spurt of bluish flame that

twisted and squirmed with slow undulations around the cathode

electrode.

"Fine," enthused Carruthers, "The cathode emanations coincide exactly

with the interference chart. Watch your meter gauges, Karl, while I

switch to the atomic ray."

* * * * *

His fingers closed over a switch. The indigo points of flame bathing

the electrode gathered themselves into a ring and began to revolve

around an invisible nucleus located near the electrode. Carruthers

studied the revolving flame for a moment, then switched off the

television machine. It was no longer needed.

Carefully, for the atomic ray was still a mysterious force to

Carruthers, he opened a small door in the panel and drew out the

focusing machine. It was shaped very much like a camera except that

the lens protruded several inches beyond the machine proper.

With infinite patience he made the final adjustments and moved away

from the front of the lens. "Ready?"

Danzig nodded and threw on the full power of the inverse dimensional

tubes. A low clear hum filled the quiet room of the laboratory. From

the lens of the focusing machine shot a pale, amber beam. It struck

the glass test tube squarely in the center and glowed against its

smooth sides.

Carruthers reached across his own machine and turned the final switch.

The amber beam emanating from the lens increased in intensity. And as

it increased it took on a deep violet color.

Nanette cried out in muffled alarm. But even as Vincent raised his

voice to quiet her fears the test tube suddenly shrunk to nothingness

and vanished into the ether.

"Aaron!" whispered the girl, awesomely. "It ... it's gone!"

Carruthers nodded. Beads of sweat stood out upon his forehead. Would

the returning ray work? He had made the test tube follow the same

route as that taken by Professor Dahlgren. Both were gone. He clicked

off the switch and the beam faded.

* * * * *

With a deliberate calmness that in no way matched the inner tumult

brought on by the experiment, he turned the dials of the machine he

and Danzig had worked out together. A second switch clicked under his

fingers. From the lense of the focusing machine shot the reverse

atomic beam. As it struck the center of the square it turned a bright

vermilion. For several seconds it played upon empty space, then the

miracle unfolded before their eyes.

Something like a glass sliver reflected the beam. It grew and enlarged

under their startled eyes until it had achieved its former size, then

the power that had brought it back switched itself off automatically.

Together both men examined the test tube. It appeared in no way

harmed, nor did it feel either warm or cold from its trip through the

elements.

"It works!" marveled Danzig. "Let's try it again with something

larger."

"I've got a better idea," said Carruthers, rising to his feet. He

crossed the laboratory and went to another part of his rooms.

Presently he returned holding a small pink rat in his hands. The

rodent was young, having been born only a week before. "Now we'll see

what happens."

"Oh, it's torture to the poor thing," burst out Nanette.

"It won't hurt it," growled Karl. "Aaron knows what he's doing."

Carruthers placed the little rat in the center of the square. It lay

there, very quiet and unblinking. Again the switches clicked as the

contacts were closed.

Came once more the beam of amber colored light followed closely by the

violet. The rat dwindled to the size of an insect, then disappeared

into space. The three watchers held their breaths. Carruthers' hand

trembled the least bit as he threw on the switch controlling the

animal's return to the world.

* * * * *

A vermilion shaft of light pierced the semi-darkened rooms. The animal

had been gone from sight not more than a minute. Abruptly something

grayish white unfolded in the reflector's beam. It rapidly expanded

under three pairs of bulging eyes--not the small, pinkish rat that had

disappeared but sixty seconds previous, but a full grown rat, scarred

and tailless as if from innumerable battles with other rats.

As the current clicked off Aaron Carruthers bent forward. Too late.

The rat scurried from the laboratory with a squeal of alarm.

Carruthers returned to his seat before the atomic machine and sat

down. His face was worried. Dark thoughts stormed his reason. The rat

he had placed within the atomic ray had aged nearly two years during

the minute it was out of mortal sight. Two years!

He pulled a pad from his pocket and calculated the time that had

elapsed since Professor Dahlgren had vanished from that same spot.

Nearly forty hours. That would mean....

Nanette stirred in her chair. "What happened to the little rat,

Aaron?"

Carruthers, busy making calculations, did not hear the question.

She turned to her brother. "Karl, what's the meaning of this? The

second experiment didn't turn out like the first one. What became of

that little rat?"

"I don't know what happened, Nan," spoke Karl. "Now don't bother me

with your silly questions. You saw the same thing I did."

* * * * *

Carruthers raised his head and spoke quietly. "That rat you saw

materialize under the atomic rays was the same rat you saw me place

within the square."

"But it couldn't be," protested the girl.

"Nevertheless," shrugged Carruthers. "It was the same animal--only it

had aged nearly two years during the brief time interval it was off

from our planet."

"It's preposterous," cried the girl.

"Nothing is preposterous nowadays, Nanette."

"That's the woman of it," spoke Karl. "Always doubting."

"You boys are playing tricks on me," retorted the girl sharply. "I

shouldn't have come to your old laboratory. Just because I'm a

girl...."

"Don't," pleaded Carruthers, looking up from his pad of figures.

"We're trying to solve the mystery underlying the forces which we have

created." He replaced the test tube within the center of the square

and returned to the atomic machine.

Through the twilight shadows of the room glowed the strange new ray.

Faintly the generator hummed. Lights sparkled and twisted around the

cathode in serpentine swirls.

"You needn't trouble to explain your silly experiment again," finished

Nanette, rising abruptly to her feet. "I'm going home and dress for

the New Year's party."

"Watch your switch like I asked you to," spoke Carruthers.

"Sit down," added Karl. "Don't put the rest of us in danger!"

"Oh-h-h!" gasped the girl as she inadvertently stepped squarely into

the atomic ray of amber-colored light.

* * * * *

Carruthers leaped impatiently to his feet. An inarticulate cry of

horror froze upon his lips. Forgetful that he himself was directly in

line of the atomic ray he lunged forward, his mind centering on a

single act--to drag the protesting and now thoroughly frightened girl

out of the path of the penetrating ray.

But even as he started forward Nanette tripped over the glass railing

around the square. Carruthers moved quickly. Yet his movements were

slow and ungainly as compared to the speed of the light ray. He saw

the figure of Nanette decrease in size before his eyes, heard the

muffled expression of alarm and fear in Danzig's voice; then the room

suddenly began to extend itself upward with the speed of a meteor.

What once had been walls and bare furniture resolved themselves into a

range of hills, then mountains. The twilight gloom of the room became

a dark void of empty space that seemed to rush past his ears like a

moaning wind.

He had the sensation of falling through infinite space as if he had

been propelled from the world and hurled out into the vastness of

interplanetary space. Something brushed against him--something soft

and fluttering. He grasped it like a drowning man would clutch a

straw. "Nanette!"

The name echoed and re-echoed through his mind yet never seemed to get

beyond his tightly clenched lips. He felt something cool close over

his hand. Instinctively he grasped it. Her hand. Together they clung

to each other as they felt themselves being hurled through endless

space.

The twilight changed swiftly to black night that rushed past the two

clinging figures and enveloped them in a wall of silence. Then out of

the mysterious fastness came the dull glow of what looked like a

distant planet. It grew and enlarged till it reached the size of a

silver dollar. Little pin-points of light soon began to appear on all

sides of it, very much like stars.

* * * * *

Carruthers attempted to reassure Nanette that all was well, and they

were out on the streets of the great metropolis. But even as he

wrenched his tightly locked lips apart he saw that the shining disc

far out into space was not what he had first thought it was--the

earth's moon.

He shook his head to clear it of the perplexing cobwebs. What was the

matter with his mind? He couldn't think or reason. All he knew was

that he had erred. This strange planet looming in the sky held

nothing familiar in markings nor in respect to its relations to the

stars beyond it.

While yet he groped in the darkness for something tangible, his mind

reverted to the girl at his side. She was clinging to him like a

frightened child. He could feel the pressure of her body against his

and it thrilled him immeasurably. No longer was he the cold,

calculating young man of science.

How long they remained in state of suspension while strange worlds and

planets flashed into a new sky before their startled eyes, Aaron

Carruthers didn't know. At times it seemed like hours, years, ages.

And when he thought of the tender nearness of the girl he held so

tightly within his arms, it seemed like a few minutes.

Gradually the sensation of speed and space falling began to wear off,

as if they were nearing earth or some solid substance once more. The

air about them grew heavier. Then all movement through space ceased.

Carruthers was surprised to find what felt like earth beneath his

feet. For long minutes he stood there, unmoving, still holding

possessively to the girl.

"Aaron!" The name came out of the void like a faint caress.

"Nanette."

Reassured of each other's presence they stood perfectly still, lost in

the vast silence of their isolation.

* * * * *

Presently the girl spoke. "Oh, Aaron, I'm frightened!"

"There's nothing to be alarmed at, dearest." The endearing term came

for the first time from the man's lips. As long as he had known

Nanette Danzig, love had never been mentioned between them. If it had

ever existed, the feeling had not been expressed.

"You shouldn't call me that, Aaron."

His voice sounded curiously far-off when he answered. "I couldn't help

it, Nan. Our nearness, the strange darkness, and the fact that we are

alone together brought strange emotions to my heart. At this moment

you are the dearest--"

Bump, thump! Bump, thump!

"What's that noise?" breathed Nanette.

Carruthers turned his head to listen. To his ears came the pound of

some heavy object striking the ground at well-regulated intervals.

Nanette, who had started to free herself from Carruthers violent

embrace, suddenly ceased to struggle. "Oh, what is it? What is it?"

she whispered fearfully.

Carruthers sniffed the night air. A musky odor assailed his nostrils,

strange and unfamiliar. "It's beyond me, Nanette. Let's move away from

this spot. Perhaps we can find shelter for the rest of the night."

But the Stygian blackness successfully hid any form of shelter. Tired

from their search they sat down.

"We might build a fire," suggested Carruthers, "only there doesn't

seem to be any wood around. Nothing but bare rock."

"Perhaps it's just as well," spoke the girl. "The flames might attract

prowlers."

"Maybe you're right," agreed Carruthers.

* * * * *

A silence fell between them. After a long time Nanette spoke.

"I don't suppose, Aaron, that anything I can do or say will help

matters any. I know that our being where we are is my own fault. I'm

sorry. Truly I am."

"The harm is done," said Carruthers. "Don't say anything more about

it."

Nanette pointed at the disc of light shining high in the heavens.

"These stars are as strange to me, Aaron, as if I had never seen them

before. Saturn is the evening star at this time of year. It isn't

visible. Even the familiar craters and mountains of the moon look

different. And it glows strangely."

"I'd rather not talk about it, Nan."

Nanette placed a hand upon his arm. "I'm not a child, Aaron. I'm a

grown woman. Fear comes through not knowing. Tell me the truth."

"Let's sit down."

They sat upon the ground and both stared out at the night heavens that

arched into infinity above them. Presently Carruthers took the girl's

hand from his arm and held it gently between his own. "You've guessed

rightly, Nan. The orb shining upon us is not our moon. I'll try and

make it clear."

* * * * *

The girl smiled reassuringly in the darkness. "I'm waiting."

"Strange as it must seem," began Carruthers, "you and I are still

within the room of my laboratory. But we might as well be a million

miles away for all the good it does us. Karl sits in his chair in the

same position as when we disappeared in the violet glow of the atomic

ray. His eyes are bulging with fear and horror. For days and days

he'll continue to sit on that chair, his mind not yet attuned to what

actually took place. What has happened? He doesn't know yet, Nan."

"Oh, it's incredible," sobbed Nanette.

"I know, but it's so obviously true that I won't even trouble to check

my calculations." He pointed at the silver disc hanging low in the

strange sky. "That, Nan, is not our moon. It is nothing more than a

planetary electron very much like the one we are on at the present

moment. The firmament is filled with them. From where we sit we can

see but the half nearest to us. The glowing portion is illuminated

from distant light rays shot off from the nucleus of the atom itself.

That atom is going to be our light and heat for weeks, months, perhaps

years to come. We're prisoners on an electron, and as such we are

destined to rush through infinite space for the remainder of our lives

unless...."

"Unless what?"

Aaron Carruthers hesitated for a bare fraction of a second. "Karl!" he

whispered. "Our lives depend on him. Time flies fast for us, Nan.

Already it is growing light. But not on our earth. Karl still sits

upon his chair staring incredulously at the miracle of our

disappearing bodies. It will take weeks of time, as it affects us, for

the initial shock to travel along his nerves to the center of his

brain."

* * * * *

His voice shook with emotion quite contrary to his usual calm nature.

"Oh, I know it's hard to understand, Nan. I was a fool to meddle with

laws of which I know so little compared to what there is yet to know."

"Then it's all true, Aaron. The little rat that came out from under

the ray as an old rat was one and the same animal."

Carruthers nodded. "Time has changed in proportion to our size. We're

moving so much faster than the earth that we must of necessity be

bound to the universe of which we are now an integral part."

For a long time they remained silent, each immersed in dark, troubled

thoughts. Nanette broke the silence.

"You don't suppose, Aaron, by any chance that Professor Dahlgren is

still alive and on our planet?"

Carruthers shook his head negatively. "It's beyond human reason, Nan.

He was lost in the ray for over forty hours. Translated into minutes

he's been gone twenty-four hundred minutes. Since the mouse we placed

within the light ray aged approximately two years in the space of one

minute, Professor Dahlgren would, if he were alive, be about four

thousand, eight hundred years old."

Nanette rose abruptly to her feet. "Oh bother the figures. My head's

swimming with them. It's getting light now, and I'm hungry."

"Eat one of your food tablets," suggested Carruthers.

"Please don't get funny," said Nanette. "Karl has them in his coat

pocket."

"Hum-m-m!" coughed Carruthers, following her example by rising to his

feet. "Looks as though we'd have to rustle our food. I've got nothing

on my person but a knife, a pencil, a fountain pen and some pieces of

paper. Nothing very promising in any of them."

* * * * *

At that moment the sky became fused with reddish light. Over the

horizon appeared a shining orb. Far-away hills and valleys leaped into

sight. Then for the first time Carruthers noted the high plateau upon

which he had spent the night. Had they ventured a hundred yards

farther during the night they would have plunged into the rocky floor

of a canyon a thousand feet below.

"Let's see if we can find a way down to the valley," he suggested. "If

we get anything to eat it will have to come from trees. This plateau

is barren of any form of vegetable matter."

They found a winding descent leading downward. It looked like a path

that had been worn by the passage of many feet.

"Someone's been here before us," he exclaimed. "The ground is too well

worn to be accidental."

"Look! Look!" pointed Nanette. Her face had become pale from the

excitement of her discovery. "What is it, Aaron?"

Carruthers bent forward to examine the strange footprint. It was

nearly two feet across and divided in the center, as if the animal

that made it had but two toes.

"From the size of the tracks and the length of the animal's stride, I

should say it was some form of an amphibious dinosaur long extinct in

our own world."

"Are they dangerous?"

"It all depends upon the species. Some of them are pure vegetarians;

others are carnivorous. The heavy tramping we heard during the night

evidently came from the beast who left these footprints."

* * * * *

They had come upon the footprints where the path made a turn, leading

into a dense growth of trees and underbrush. And as Carruthers knelt

beside the path he heard a rustle as of something moving directly

behind him. Wonderingly, he turned his head to trace the disturbance.

But the woods seemed empty. "Strange," he murmured. "Did you hear

something moving in back of us, Nan?"

Nan shook her head. "You don't think we're in any danger from these

beasts, do you?"

Carruthers said nothing for the moment. Instead, he looked sharply in

all directions and saw nothing. "Let's push on till we come to some

kind of a shelter. Perhaps we'll find people much like ourselves."

Down the path they hurried, glancing curiously right and left at

unknown flowers and trees. A bird with brilliant feathers skimmed

above their heads, uttering shrill cries. Other voices from the birds

and animals in the woods took up the cry. The woods grew denser as

they pushed into the unknown.

In the woods at their right a rodent squeaked as some larger animal

pounced upon it. Presently they came to a pool of water roughly

seventy feet across. While they knelt to quench their thirst they saw

two young deer eyeing them from the far side. Soft feet pattered

behind the kneeling couple. Carruthers half whirled as he rose to his

feet and peered into the jungle behind him.

A blur of reddish brown vanished behind a tree. Man or animal

Carruthers couldn't determine. He grasped Nanette by the arm and

pulled her back to the path.

"Quick!" he whispered. "There's someone or something following us. I'm

sure of it now."

* * * * *

Nanette's voice trembled slightly. "What is it, Aaron?"

"I don't know." He turned his head again. This time he saw the thing

that was following. A low ejaculation of alarm escaped his lips. A

gigantic ape! The mouth of the creature sagged grotesquely, revealing

two rows of yellow fangs. And its orange colored eyes were burning

coals set close together. Carruthers sucked in a deep breath.

"Run, Nan," he gritted. "I'll try and scare him away."

Simultaneously with the scream of fright from the startled girl, a

huge mountain of grayish flesh and bones blocked the downward slope of

the path. Carruthers paled as he turned and faced the new menace.

Coming directly toward them he saw an immense animal so great in size

that it seemed to shut out the light. A prehistoric dinosaur! It came

slowly and leisurely, swinging its great red mouth from side to side.

Other denizens in the woods, sensing the presence of the huge killer,

fled in a panic of alarm. Their shrill cries increased the terror that

froze the hearts of the two earth people.

Nanette clung to her companion in abject terror, unable to move. Her

fear stricken eyes were wild and staring as the mountain of flesh

pushed towards them.

The animal's long neck arched far in front of its body, and its long,

pointed tail remained out of sight within the trees.

Carruthers backed off the path into the underbrush, dragging the girl

after him. The jaws of the huge animal opened wide with anticipation.

Lumberingly he turned from the path and followed. Trees crashed before

its gigantic bulk. The woods became a bedlam of snapping branches.

The horrified scream of the girl ended in a gurgling sigh. She toppled

to the ground in a dead faint. Carruthers flung himself beside her

crumpled body and gathered it into his arms. A quick glance he threw

at the spot where he had last seen the gigantic ape. The animal was no

longer there. It had disappeared.

The man's lips became a hard, straight line. Even as he straightened

to his feet the leaves and branches of an overturned tree whipped his

face. The red mouthed dinosaur was perilously near. So close that

Carruthers could smell its great, glistening body. The odor was musky

and foul.

Stumbling blindly he attempted to widen the distance between himself

and his pursuer. But the hungry dinosaur pounded steadily on its

course. There was no getting away from it. Its beady eyes sought out

its prey and its keen smell told it exactly where the earth beings

were.

On and on staggered Carruthers. The extra burden of the girl hampered

his movements. Unseen roots tripped him time and time again. Each time

he scrambled to his feet and picked up the unconscious girl. Briars

tore at his clothing and stung his hands.

The underbrush was thickening. A warm, dank smell clung to the

vegetation now almost tropical in nature. Beads of sweat rolled down

the man's forehead and into his eyes. But the horrible fear of those

red, dripping jaws spurred him to renewed efforts.

He doubled to the left, hoping to throw the animal off his tracks. The

undergrowth seemed to thin out at this point. Renewed hope flowed

through the young scientist's blood. He stumbled on blindly, scarce

watching where his feet were taking him. A sigh of relief came to his

lips. Ahead of him he saw a clearing. His stride lengthened and he

broke into a shambling run.

* * * * *

Then it was he saw, towering walls rising up on both sides of

him--steep walls that he could never scale, even if alone. He tried to

change his course, but the huge bulk of the pursuing dinosaur

effectively blocked his path. There was no alternative but to push on

and pray for an opening in the rugged cliffs.

Abruptly a sigh of despair escaped his lips. The walls of the canyon

narrowed suddenly, and across it stretched a wall of bare rock. He

realized too late that he had returned to the base of the plateau

where he had spent the night. The grim, towering walls hemmed him in

completely from three sides. At the fourth side bulked the dinosaur,

coming slowly, ponderously.

Beady eyes peered down cunningly at the helpless man and woman.

Confident now that its prey couldn't escape, it extended its huge bulk

across the narrow canyon for a leisurely killing.

Carruthers glared at the monster with fear-distended eyes. In his

heart he realized that there was no escape. He had no means of

defense, no way to combat the huge monster but flight. And even that

was now denied him.

Closer and closer inched the killer until its great, red mouth

appeared like the fire box of a huge boiler. Hot breath fanned the

man's cheek. The nauseous odor of the beast made his stomach wrench.

He dropped to his knees close to the inert figure of the girl and

glared vengefully into the beady eyes.

The gaping mouth at the end of a long, supple neck jerked forward.

Carruthers dragged the girl away just in time to escape the gnashing

teeth. The dinosaur stamped angrily.

Once again Carruthers felt its hot breath beating upon his face. He

cringed at the thought of this kind of death. No one would ever know

how it happened. Not even his closest friend, Karl Danzig! What a mess

things were. Why didn't the red mouth of the mighty dinosaur close

over him and crush out life? Why must he kneel in torture?

From near at hand a piercing scream rang through the air. A harsh

scream. A terrifying scream!

* * * * *

Carruthers raised his head. The dinosaur had twisted around to glare

hatefully at the disturber of its meal. Other screams splintered the

forest air. And as the kneeling man watched he saw the great red ape

who had been dodging his footsteps a short time before, slouch between

the dinosaur's hulking body and the wall of the cliff. Behind it came

others--black mammals with curving arms that dragged along the ground.

Their fangs were bared. They were in an ugly mood. Arriving in front

of the dinosaur and less than four feet from the earth man and woman,

the leader silenced its followers with a low growl and turned in

concentrated fury upon the dinosaur. Its long arms drummed a throbbing

tattoo upon its hairy chest.

The dinosaur bellowed protestingly against the attitude of the apes

and gorillas. The ape leader protested with equal violence. The

dinosaur shifted uneasily, wagging its heavy head from side to side.

On all sides came deep growls from the mammals.

Carruthers watched all this display torn between doubt and fear. Which

side would win? How could the apes and gorillas, huge as they were,

hope to force the dinosaur away? But the apes were masters. This much

was apparent. Inch by inch the dinosaur backed away, glaring

vengefully. And having reached a spot where it could turn around it

did so. Presently the ground trembled as it made off through the

steaming jungle. The leader of the mammals turned and faced the earth

people. Long, searching minutes passed. Its close set eyes seemed to

be studying them.

* * * * *

Nanette stirred and opened her eyes. The sight of the anthropoids

caused her to recoil.

"Steady, Nan," spoke Carruthers softly.

Other apes and gorillas gathered around the giant red animal. They

displayed no hostility, only an intense interest. One by one they

squatted before the earth people until they formed a half circle,

reaching from the one wall of the rocky plateau to the other.

While they sat there it began to grow dark. Carruthers removed his

watch and ventured a glance at it. Daylight had lasted less then three

hours. An hour for twilight, then it would be dark. Evidently the

cycle around the nucleus of the atom took approximately ten hours.

Nanette sat up. "Aaron!"

He answered without removing his eyes from the red ape less then four

feet away. "Don't look at me, Nan. Concentrate on the big, red fellow.

He's evidently in control. If we act the least bit frightened they

might decide to destroy us."

"What are they waiting for? Why don't they go away?"

"We'll know before long. I imagine they're trying to figure out who we

are and what we are doing on their tiny planet."

Darkness descended rapidly. Overhead, a small moon rose majestically

in the heavens and started its journey through the night. Its faint

light revealed the fact that the apes showed no intentions of leaving.

They still squatted before the earth people, in a half circle of

staring brown eyes.

Whatever fear Carruthers had felt towards the animals died away.

"They're harmless," he told Nanette. "Get some sleep if you can."

* * * * *

Long after the tired girl had drifted into slumber Carruthers sat with

his back against the wall, mentally trying to figure the whole thing

out. The dinosaur was real enough. Yet the apemen had frightened it

away, in fact had compelled it to go without actually engaging in

combat. No question about it. The anthropoids were in control. But who

controlled them?

Quite suddenly his eyes snapped open. Daylight had come again. He must

have fallen asleep. The shrill chatter of the apeman came to his ears.

The red ape leader shuffled to his feet and looked from the earth

people to the spot in the jungle whence came the chatter. Abruptly he

opened his mouth and emitted a flood of gibberish sounds.

The gorillas and apes at his side flattened their bodies against the

rocky walls in attitudes of expectant waiting.

"What's happening?" gasped the girl.

"There's no telling," whispered Aaron. "It must be someone or

something of importance. Note the expressions of awe and reverence on

the faces of the apemen. My God, Nanette, look!"

Out of the depths of the jungle emerged seven white beings--human or

animal it was impossible to tell. They were huge creatures with the

bodies of men. Erect of carriage, almost human in looks, they

contrasted strangely with the red apes and the black gorillas. Six of

them appeared to act as bodyguard for the seventh.

As they reached the space in front of the two earth people, the

bodyguard stepped aside. The seventh white one came to a dead stop.

Long and intently he stared at the man and girl crouched against the

wall. And the scrutiny seemed to please him, for he smiled.

Carruthers eyed the figure uneasily. He saw what seemed to be a man

dressed in a long, fibrous garment. With white hair and beard, it was

a strange figure indeed for an apeman. He saw also that the eyes were

well spaced, a mark of intelligence. The forehead was high and broad.

And as Carruthers mentally studied the creature, strange and bizarre

thoughts crossed his mind.

* * * * *

The mouth of the white apeman twitched as if he were going to speak.

The heavy lips parted. A single word came to Carruthers' ear--"Man?"

Carruthers nodded. "We are from the earth."

The lips of the apeman moved painfully as if speech came with the

utmost of difficulty. "The prophecy of the Great One has been

fulfilled even as it has been written."

The red apes and black gorillas allowed their eyes to wander from

their white leader to the two earth people. And their faces reflected

the supernatural awe with which they regarded the earth people.

"It's uncanny that an animal can speak our language," breathed

Nanette.

As if he hadn't heard her, Carruthers spoke again. "We are from the

earth," he repeated. "We have been on your world many hours, and we

are both hungry and thirsty."

"Words come hard," came from the lips of the white bearded one. "I

have not used them for years."

"And who are you?" asked Carruthers.

The white bearded one paused as if to recall some distant echo from

the past. "I am the last of the tribe of Esau. But come! This is no

place for speech. Long have I and my followers waited for this hour."

* * * * *

Without another word he swung around. The six guards enclosed his aged

body in a hollow square and the procession moved away. They came after

a short journey to a natural opening leading to the heart of the

plateau. The apes and gorillas, with the exception of the red leader,

remained outside. The remainder of the party pushed through a tortuous

tunnel until they reached a cavernous opening directly beneath the

plateau. Vertical openings in the walls furnished light and air. The

white chieftain spoke in a strange tongue to his followers, and they

instantly prepared three couches in a far corner of the cavern.

As the earth people seated themselves on the skins that made up the

couch they were both conscious of a far-away rumbling like peals of

thunder. Not having seen any signs of a storm outside Carruthers

turned inquiringly on the aged chieftain.

The old man's eyes were shadowed with grim foreboding. "I have ordered

something to refresh you and your companion," he said. "Eat first, my

friends. We will talk later."

The six body-guards left the main cavern. Presently they returned with

large trays made of fanlike leaves resembling the palmetto. Fresh

fruits and uncooked vegetables formed the bulk of the meal. In silence

they ate. After the litter had been cleared away the guards withdrew

with the exception of the giant red ape, who crouched near the opening

to the tunnel.

"I am glad you have come," began the old chieftain, "but sorry, too.

Our planet, or rather the higher forms of life upon it, are doomed."

* * * * *

Again there came to the ears of the earth people that far-off beat of

sound that seemed to shake the ground. They looked to the white

bearded leader for explanation.

"Ah, you hear it too," murmured the other. "For centuries, we of the

great tribe of Esau have fought for the supremacy of our little

world--ever since the Great One appeared in our midst and instructed

us in world knowledge."

"And this Great One, as you call him," spoke Carruthers. "Who was he?"

"He was from your world. I never saw him. He comes to me as a legend.

For years he toiled among us, teaching and instructing until we

mastered his language. He called himself Dahlgren. Later he ruled all

the tribes. We of the Esau line he made into leaders because of our

higher intelligence. The tribes of Zaku were trained for war. Perhaps

you have noticed the chief of all the Zakus. He is crouching now

beside the entrance to our inner walls. He is Marbo, and his followers

live in the jungles."

"And does he talk as you do?"

The white chieftain shook his head. "No. Only we of the Esau tribe

have mastered speech. Not counting the women of our tribe that

comprise our numbers we are only seven in all."

"I owe Marbo my life as does also my companion," said Carruthers.

"Marbo looks upon you earth people as gods," spoke the old chieftain.

"He and his followers will protect you with their lives."

"And who rules over and beyond?" questioned Carruthers, waving his arm

to cover the remaining portion of the electron.

"There is no rule beyond except that of force. The Great One called

them by name, Morosaurus, Diplodocus, the Horned Ceratosaurus, and

many others whose names I have long forgotten. They are our enemies

whom we cannot destroy. And their numbers increase from year to year

and are slowly backing us upon our last stronghold."

"Isn't there anything we can do?" asked Carruthers, feeling a quiver

of apprehension along his spine.

* * * * *

Slowly, the old chieftain shook his head. "Nothing whatever. Marbo and

his followers can control one or two, but when the herds begin to push

on into our territory, we are doomed. Even now their rumblings and

bellowings come through the jungles. Their thirst and hunger for flesh

is enormous."

Carruthers turned upon the girl. "The old chief's words explain

everything, Nan. Professor Dahlgren has been here and gone. He lived a

lifetime in the span of a few hours earth-time. Now it looks as if we

were destined to follow in his footsteps."

"I'm not afraid," said the girl. "Nothing can be worse than what we

have already passed through." And her eyes softened as she placed her

small hands within those of Carruthers. "We have each other, Aaron."

He smiled reassuringly and turned to the old chieftain. "I am

Carruthers, a friend and assistant to Dahlgren. The girl here is

Nanette."

The chieftain smiled gravely. "And I am Zark. Welcome to my kingdom,

Carruthers and Nanette. We need you here. Now tell me of your world,

for long have I waited for a follower of the great Dahlgren to appear

before my people."

Throughout the remainder of the day Carruthers talked. The shafts of

light paled at the end of the short day. Night came, bringing with it

a sense of security against the increasing hordes that thundered and

trumpeted beyond the borders of the jungle.

In the morning Zark instructed Marbo to remain close to Carruthers at

all times. So the young scientist left the cavern and ascended the

path leading to the top of the plateau. He looked at his watch and

compared the second hand with the nucleus atom sailing across the

heavens to estimate its speed.

* * * * *

Days passed as he made his observations. Meanwhile he had searched and

found the exact spot wherein he and Nanette had first stepped foot

onto the electron. This spot he carefully marked off with a ring of

huge boulders carried up by the followers of Marbo. Then he began to

calculate upon his pad. There must be no mistakes. He and Nanette must

be within the magic circle at the estimated time.

Between times he helped Nanette construct their living quarters in the

cavern. Zark had furnished them with skins and furs with which to

cover the walls. Carruthers made a fireplace of stones and restored

the lost art of fire to Zark, Marbo and their followers.

Days slipped by like minutes. Short days filled with excursions into

the jungles. Carruthers' face soon bristled with a stubble of beard.

This lengthened with time. Sharp thorns tore their clothes to ribbons.

Nanette, womanlike, cried many times during the nights because of the

lack of a mirror and a comb for her untidy hair.

But other and more important events soon claimed the attention of the

earth people. Day by day the herds of dinosaurs and other monsters of

like breed edged closer and closer to the tiny civilization around the

plateau. It worried Carruthers so much that he sought out Zark and had

him bring the other six members of his tribe together for a council of

war.

"A complete defensive system, Zark," he told them. "We must make a

fortress of the plateau and fill the caverns with food."

* * * * *

Zark shook his head. "No. It is quite useless. Followers of Marbo have

recently returned from over the beyond and report strange things. I

have hesitated to speak of them for fear of alarming you. Our planet

is breaking up. Violent eruptions have caused fires of stone and mud.

The rumblings you have heard were not made entirely by our enemies.

They came from the ground.

"An earthquake," murmured Carruthers, momentarily stunned by the news.

"But they are always of short duration, Zark. We have them on our own

planet."

"Ah, but these are different. They cover the whole of our globe. The

great Dahlgren noted them while he was with us. He wrote many words

and figures on paper concerning them. Only yesterday I unearthed these

records. The life of our planet was doomed to destruction during the

present year. What matter if the herds of dinosaurs overrun us and

destroy lives? In the end they, too, will be destroyed. It is fate. We

can do nothing."

Even as the old chieftain spoke a gigantic rumbling, greater in

intensity than any heretofore, shook the electron. Above the deep

rolling disturbance underground rose the shrill cries of the apemen.

Carruthers leaped to his feet and raced through the tunnel. A herd of

dinosaurs choked the path leading to the outside entrance. Marbo

brushed past him, shrilling in great excitement.

"Drive them away!" ordered Carruthers. "Like this!" He hurled a rock

at the eye of the nearest animal.

The dinosaur bellowed and backed away. The apes, and gorillas, used to

fighting only with their long arms, caught on to the stunt with

surprising quickness. Their powerful arms reached out. Stones and

boulders began to hurtle from the mouth of the tunnel. They thudded

against the heads of the great monsters like hailstones.

Subdued and frightened by this sudden display of force, the monsters

withdrew down the path. But the apemen had discovered a new method of

warfare. They found a childish delight in hurling stones. Within a few

minutes the slope was barren of rocks. The animals followed up their

momentary advantage and ran screaming down the path. The dinosaurs

fled in panic.

* * * * *

AS soon as the enemy had been driven away, Carruthers pointed out to

Marbo the advantage of gathering the stones up from the ground and

returning them to the space around the mouth of the tunnel so that he

and his followers would be ready for a second repulse.

Zark appeared at this moment and helped with the explanation. His

crafty old eyes turned with new respect upon the earthman.

Carruthers toiled with them every day from then on, building and

fortifying the plateau against further incursions of the monsters.

Security and peace reigned for several weeks then hostilities broke

out afresh.

The rumblings of the electron had increased with each passing week.

Volcanic eruptions poured fresh discharges of molten lava and fiery

sparks along the edges of the jungles.

"I don't want to needlessly alarm you, Nan," he told her that night,

"but the fires have started. Zark was right. Unless we have rain

before to-morrow morning the heat and smoke will drive us out into

the open."

"But we can go to the top of the plateau," suggested the girl. "There

aren't any trees--"

A concentrated bellowing cut off the rest of her words. Driven towards

higher ground by the heat of the flames, the dinosaurs were trampling

up the path leading to the tunnel.

Once again Carruthers rallied his army of apemen around him and

attempted to drive the mammals away. As they reached the end of the

tunnel a cloud of dense smoke stung their eyes. The apemen shrilled in

a sudden panic and forgot all their previous training in driving off

the dinosaurs. Like scurrying rats they scattered.

* * * * *

Flames from the conflagration broke through the smoke--flames that

leaped and twisted skyward.

Carruthers flung off the fear that held him spellbound and started

along up the path leading to the top of the plateau. A disheveled

figure appeared suddenly at his side--Nanette!

"Come," he whispered, hoarsely. "We've got to get out of this or we'll

choke to death."

"But Zark," breathed the girl, "He and his followers are still in the

cavern. We can't leave them."

Like one demented of reason, Carruthers raced back along the tunnel to

the cavern. "Zark!" he shouted.

The sound of his voice was drowned in the welter of screaming bedlam

coming up from below as the dinosaurs and apes fought for the

supremacy of life. But of Zark and his six followers he found

absolutely no sign. Quickly he hurried back to where he had left

Nanette.

Even as he reached the spot he had a sudden premonition of danger. A

gorilla, huge and black, brushed past him on the path, carrying a limp

burden under his shaggy arm.

"Stop!" commanded Carruthers, hurrying after the animal.

A huge arm knocked him sprawling. Spitting blood Carruthers staggered

to his feet. Up to this time he had felt no fear of the gorillas. They

had been orderly and well behaved. Fearful that harm would come to the

girl he ran after the dark figure ahead. The red glow of flames swept

nearer. The gorilla came to a stop and faced its pursuer. Lust shone

from its close-set eyes--lust and passion.

Carruthers stopped dead in his tracks. "Drop her!" he demanded.

The animal snarled hoarsely. There came the sound of ripping cloth.

Nanette screamed--a terrifying scream that echoed and re-echoed

through the electron night.

* * * * *

It was then that the thin cloak of civilization dropped from Aaron

Carruthers' back. He became in a single moment an animal fighting for

his mate. With a snarl equally vicious as that of the gorilla pawing

at the helpless girl, he lunged forward.

Mouthing his rage, the gorilla flung the earth man to the ground.

Carruthers came up frothing at the mouth. With grim intensity he

fastened himself to the animal's free arm. The raging mammal staggered

helplessly under the extra burden and dropped the girl to concentrate

his fury on the man. It raised a hairy arm aloft for the smashing

blow. Instinctively Carruthers released his hold.

At that very moment the electron lurched sickeningly, causing them

both to lose their footing. The violent upheaval sent Carruthers one

way and the gorilla the other. While the man stumbled to his feet to

resume battle he saw the infuriated monster stagger over the edge of

the plateau wall into a sheer drop of a thousand feet.

Starkly through the night came the growling roars of the giant beasts

from the jungles below. Nanette fluttered to his side. Her dress was

torn and dragged on the ground. For all her disheveled appearance she

was still beautiful to look upon. Forgetful of the danger on all sides

of him, the animal in Carruthers saw in her pitifully half-clad body

the same thing that the beast had desired. His head whirled hotly.

"Aaron!" she pleaded as his arm reached out to clutch her.

Hungrily he drew her to him. The pale light of the electron moon

mingled with the roaring blast of the flames. Madness inflamed his

heart and pounded his blood.

"Don't, Aaron," protested the girl, trying to free herself.

* * * * *

Something in the quality of the girl's frightened tones brought the

man back to normal. He fought against the overwhelming desire to

possess with all the force of his nature. And the better half

triumphed. No longer was he an animal, but a reasoning human being.

With a faint sigh he released her and wiped a hand across his dripping

forehead.

"I'm sorry, Nan," he murmured. "That great brute drove me mad for an

instant. I'm all right now."

Together they stood in the electron night and watched death creep

closer and closer. The plateau was entirely surrounded with flames now

and the heat was increasing with each passing moment. As it increased

they backed towards the center.

From under their feet came the choking cries of the apemen. They had

returned to the cavern only to be overcome by smoke fumes. While yet

the earth people stood there waiting and watching the red death creep

nearer, the path leading downward into the jungle became a mass of

moving shadows.

"The dinosaurs!" cried Nanette. "Oh, Aaron! We are lost!"

"Steady, girl," soothed the man. "If we stand still they might not see

us in the dark. The smoke will destroy our scent."

But as the minutes passed the herd of monsters increased. They crowded

along the path and spread out over the top of the plateau. Once again

the smell of their glistening bodies fouled the nostrils of the earth

people.

Slowly Carruthers guided Nanette back towards the ring of

rocks--perhaps the barrier would serve to keep the animals away. He

scrambled across one of the boulders and pulled the girl after him. As

he did so, a violent subterranean action shook the electron from one

end to the other.

* * * * *

Carruthers braced his feet against the ring of rocks to keep from

pitching headlong to the ground. Nanette clung to him wordlessly. All

around them the giant forces of nature raged sullenly. Twisting seams

appeared in the rocky floor of the plateau from which oozed gaseous

vapors.

"Courage," soothed Carruthers as he held the quivering body of the

frightened girl close to his own. "This can't last."

But the ground continued to lurch and heave on its axis. Vivid lights

crossed and criss-crossed the atomic heavens. The fissures in the

ground appeared now as black canals. The lower part of the circle of

boulders disappeared. Off to the right came despairing screams. White

bodies glowed for an instant against the background of flames.

"Zark!" shouted Carruthers, as he saw the leader of the tribe of Esau

and his followers making their way along the plateau top.

Zark must have heard the earth-man's voice, for he started forward at

a run. Simultaneously there appeared a herd of the greatest of all the

prehistoric monsters--the Brontosaurus. They balked enormously against

the flame-licked skies. Zark and his followers attempted to avoid

them. But fear of the scorching flames drove the monsters forward.

There followed a maddening moment of unutterable pain for the

remaining ones of the tribe of Esau, then the herd trampled them

underfoot and rumbled towards the half circle of rocks where the two

earth people were crouched.

The leader of the Brontosaurus herd trumpeted madly and barged for the

higher ground of safety. Too late did instinct warn it of the widening

fissure underfoot. Before it could stop the pressure of the herd drove

it into the crevice.

* * * * *

Carruthers drew back to the extreme inside edge of the boulders trying

to still his ears against their insane bellowings. A cloud of heavy,

choking smoke enveloped him for a moment then passed away. Then it was

that he saw a new star in the atomic heavens,--a star that seemed to

burn with the brilliance of a meteor. Even as he watched he was

conscious of it drawing closer.

The planet was now in a continuous uproar. The ground was heaving and

trembling as if from some inward strain. This was the end. Carruthers

realized it with a sinking heart. In another minute the electron would

disintegrate into a flaming mass of matter and fling itself from its

orbit around the atom.

And then the light from the approaching star struck them in a blinding

radiance of vermilion flames. Carruthers held his breath. Some

invisible force seemed to take possession of his body and that of the

girl at his side. The rocky plateau, now a boiling mass of rocks,

dropped from under their feet. Clear, cold air enveloped their bodies.

Then with the speed of light their bodies were hurled through

planetary space, up, up, up into the vast reaches of the higher ether.

Darkness assailed them. The flames from the jungle fire vanished into

nothingness. The electron moon paled to the size of a pin point, then

went out.

Carruthers had the feeling of expansion and growth. It was as if his

body was taking on the size of the whole world. It seemed to last for

hours, days, ages. But all the while he clung fast to the slender,

quivering body of Nanette.

* * * * *

Mountains and hills suddenly blazed before his eyes. Straight up and

down mountains. He tried to stir his sluggish mind into action. What

did they mean? Where had he seen them before? And while yet his mind

struggled with the problem the mountains dwindled like melting snow.

The pressure around his body relaxed. A blinding glare of steady light

played upon his face. Then all was quietness and peace.

"Nan! Aaron!" The voice was Karl's.

Dazedly they looked around. What had once been mountains were now

desks and chairs. They were back again in the laboratory. Several

agonizing minutes passed before either could grasp the startling

change in things. The horror of the electronic disaster still filled

their minds to overflowing.

Carruthers recovered first. He stepped from the railed inclosure

marking the spot where the atomic beam had restored them after their

space flight, and guided the girl to a chair. Karl's face was drawn

and white as his eyes rested on the two pitiful figures that had

materialized out of the ether.

"Don't ask us any questions yet," spoke Carruthers in a tired voice.

"We've passed through too many horrors. What was the matter, Karl?

Couldn't you get the rays to work sooner?"

"Sooner?" Danzig's eyes were wide with wonder. He glanced at his

watch. "It was a little difficult to control both machines all alone,

but I switched off the ray from the inverse dimensional tubes and

turned on the other immediately. All in all it must have taken me

fifteen seconds."

"Fifteen seconds," repeated Carruthers, dazedly. "It's unbelievable."

He dropped wearily into a chair and rested his forehead in the palms

of his hands. "How long have we been gone, Nan?"

* * * * *

Nanette pulled the ragged remnants of a dress around her knees and

attempted a smile. "Almost four months, according to the passage of

time on the electron."

"Impossible!" whispered Danzig, shutting his eyes to the truth.

Aaron Carruthers pointed to his clothes, now ragged and torn. "Look,

Karl! Everything I have on is worn out completely. Observe my hair and

beard, and the soles of my shoes. Human reason to the contrary,

Nanette and I have lived like two animals for four months, and all in

the space of fifteen seconds earth time. How can you account for it?

We figured it out on paper. And we've proved it with our bodies. What

it will mean to future civilization I can't foretell. It's beyond

imagination."

And the laboratory became silent as a tomb as the three people tried

with all the strength of their minds to grasp the miracle of the

strange and unfathomable atomic rays.

* * * * *

PRODUCING HEAT BY ARCTIC COLD

Producing heat by means of Arctic cold is a fantastic but none the

less quite practicable idea evolved by Dr. H. Barjou of the French

Academy of Science. Dr. Barjou says the water under the ice in the

Arctic region is about 70 degrees Fahrenheit. While the air is many

degrees less, there may even be a difference of 50 degrees. The

unfrozen water could be pumped into a tank and permitted to freeze,

thus generating heat, as freezing a cubic meter of ice liberates about

as much heat as burning twenty-two pounds of coal. The heat produced

would vaporize a volatile hydrocarbon which would drive a turbine.

For condensing the hydrocarbon again, Dr. Barjou says great blocks of

brine could be used.

Not only would the Arctic regions become comfortably habitable by

means of this utilization of energy, contends Dr. Barjou, but heat

also could be furnished for the rest of the world.

Now if some one only can discover how to make the Sahara Desert send

forth cooling waves, the world will be perfect, temperaturally.

Jetta of the Lowlands

PART TWO OF A THREE-PART NOVEL

_By Ray Cummings_

[Illustration: We were invisible!]

[Sidenote: Into remote Lowlands, in an invisible flyer, go Grant and

Jetta--prisoners of a scientific depth bandit.]

WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE

In the year 2020 the oceans have long since drained from the surface

of the earth, leaving bared to sun and wind the one-time sea floor.

Much of it is flat, caked ooze, cracked and hardened, with, here and

there, small scum-covered lakes, bordered by slimy rocks. It is hot,

down in the depth of the great Lowland areas, and it is chiefly

adventurers and outcasts of human kind who can endure life in what

few towns there are.

Into Nareda, the capital village of the tiny Lowland Republic of

Nareda, goes Philip Grant, an operative of the United States Customs

Department, on a dangerous assignment--to ferret out the men who are

smuggling mercury into the United States from that place.

Grant falls in love with Jetta, the daughter of Jacob Spawn, a big

mercury mine owner of Nareda, only to learn that Spawn has promised

her in marriage to Greko Perona, the country's Minister of Internal

Affairs.

Grant follows Perona to a midnight Lowland rendezvous with mysterious

strangers and eavesdrops on them, sending their indistinct voice

murmurs to his chief, Hanley, in Washington, who relays them back to

him, amplified. He learns several important things: that Spawn and

Perona and a depth bandit named De Boer are together involved in the

smuggling; that they have planned a fake robbery of a fortune in

radiumized mercury stored at Spawn's mine, to collect the insurance on

it and escape paying the Government export fee: and that they, plan

to kidnap Grant for ransom.

The plotters learn of Grant's absence from Nareda, and suspect that he

may be nearby. They start to search for him. Grant barely escapes,

with the bandits and conspirators in hot pursuit. He flees to Jetta,

hoping that they will be able to get away together: but he finds her

tied hand and foot in her room.

The door is tightly sealed.

And close behind him are his pursuers!

CHAPTER VIII

_Jetta's Defiance_

I must go back now to picture what befell Jetta that afternoon while I

was at Spawn's mine. It is not my purpose to becloud this narrative

with mystery. There was very little mystery about it to Jetta, and I

can reconstruct her viewpoint of the events from what she afterward

told me.

Jetta's room was in a wing of the house on the side near the pergola.

Her window and door looked out upon the patio. When I had

retired--that first night in Nareda--Spawn had gone to his daughter

and upbraided her for showing herself while he was giving me that

first midnight meal.

"You stay in your room: you have nothing to do with him. Hear me?"

"Yes, Father."

From her infancy he had dominated her; it never occurred to either of

them that she could disobey. And yet, this time she did; for no sooner

was he asleep that night than she came to my window as I have told.

This next day Jetta dutifully had kept herself secluded. She cooked

her own breakfast while I was at the Government House, and was again

out of sight by noon.

Jetta was nearly always alone. I can picture her sitting there within

the narrow walls of her little room. Boy's ragged garb. All possible

femininity stripped from her. Yet, within her, the woman's instincts

were struggling. She sewed a great deal, she since has told me, there

in the cloistered dimness. Making little dresses of silk and bits of

finery given her surreptitiously by the neighbor women. Gazing at

herself in them with the aid of a tiny mirror. Hiding them away, never

daring to wear them openly; until at intervals her father would raid

the room, find them and burn them in the kitchen incinerator.

"Instincts of Satan! By damn but I will get these woman's instincts

out of you, Jetta!"

* * * * *

And there were hours when she would try to read hidden books, and look

at pictures of the strange fairy world of the Highlands. She could

read and write a little: she had gone for a few years to the small

Nareda government school, and then been snatched from it by her

father.

When Spawn and I had finished that noonday meal, I recall that he left

me for a moment. He had gone to Jetta.

"I am taking that young American to the mine. I will return presently.

Stay close, Jetta."

"Yes, Father."

He left with me. Jetta remained in her room, her thoughts upon the

coming night. She trembled at them. She would meet me again, this

evening in the moonlit garden....

The sound of a man walking the garden path aroused her from her

reverie. Then came a soft ingratiating voice:

"Jetta, _chica Mia_!"

It was Perona, standing by the pergola preening his effeminate

mustache.

"Jetta, little love bird, come out and talk to me."

Jetta slammed the window slide and sat quiet.

"Jetta, it is your Greko."

"Well do I know it," she muttered.

"Jetta!" He strode down the path and back. "Jetta." His voice began

rising into a strident, peevish anger.

"Jetta, are you in there? _Chica_, answer me."

No answer.

"Jetta, _por Dios_--" He fumed, then fell to pleading. "Are you in

there? Please, little love bird, answer your Greko. Are you in there?"

"Yes."

"Come out then. Come to Greko."

* * * * *

She said sweetly. "My father does not want me to talk to men. You know

that is so, Señor Perona."

It grounded him. "Why--"

"Is it not so?"

"Y-yes, but I am not--"

"A man?" Little imp! She relished impaling him upon the shafts of her

ridicule. Her sport was interrupted by the arrival of Spawn. He had

left me at the mine and come directly back home. Jetta heard his heavy

tread on the garden path, then his voice:

"Ah, Perona."

And Perona: "Jetta will not come out and talk to me." The waxen

mustached Minister of Nareda's Internal Affairs was like a sulky

child. But Spawn was unimpressed. Spawn said:

"Well, let her alone. We have more important things to engage us. I

have the American occupied at the mine. You heard from De Boer?"

"I went last night. All is ready as we planned. But Spawn, this fool

of an American, this Grant--"

"Hush! Not so loud, Perona!"

"I am telling you--!" Perona was excited. His voice rose shrilly, but

Spawn checked him.

"Shut up: you waste time. Tell me exactly the arrangements with De

Boer. _Le grand coup_! now; to-night most important of nights--and you

rant of your troubles with a girl!"

* * * * *

They were standing by the pergola, quite near Jetta's shaded window.

She crouched there, listening to them. None of this was entirely new

to Jetta. She had always been aware more or less of her father's

secret business activities. As a child she had not understood them.

Nor did she now, with any clarity. Spawn, had always talked freely

within her hearing, ignoring her, though occasionally he threatened

her to keep her mouth shut.

She heard now fragments of this discussion between her father and

Perona. They moved away from the pergola and sat by the fountain,

speaking too low for her to hear. And then they paced the path, coming

nearer, and she caught their voices again. And occasionally they grew

excited, or vehement, and then their raised tones were plainly audible

to her.

And this that she heard, with what she knew already, and with what

subsequently transpired, enables me now to piece together the facts

into a connected explanation.

In the establishment of his cinnabar mine some years before, Spawn was

originally financed by Perona. The South American was then newly made

Minister of Nareda's Internal Affairs. He became Spawn's business

partner. They kept the connection secret. Spawn falsified his

production records; and Perona with his governmental position was

enabled to pass these false accounts of the mine's production. Nareda

was systematically cheated of a portion of its legal share.

But this, after a time, did not satisfy the ambitious Perona and

Spawn. They began to plan how they might engage in smuggling some of

their quicksilver into the United States.

Perona, during these years, had had ambitions of his own in other

directions. President Markes, of Nareda, was an honest official. He

handicapped Perona considerably. There were many ways by which Perona

could have grown rich through a dishonest handling of the government

affairs. It was done almost universally in all the small Latin

governments. But Markes as President made it dangerous in Nareda. Even

the duplicity with the mine was a precarious affair.

* * * * *

There was at this time in Nareda a young adventurer named De Boer. A

handsome, swaggering fellow in his late twenties. He was a good

talker; he spoke many languages; he could orate with fluency and

skilful guile. His smile, his colorful personality, and his gift for

oratory, made it easy for him to stir up dissatisfaction among the

people.

De Boer became known as a patriot. A revolution in Nareda was brewing.

Perona, as Nareda's Minister, was De Boer's political enemy. The

Nareda Government ran De Boer out, ending the potential revolution.

But Perona and Spawn had always secretly been friends with De Boer. It

would have been very handy to have this unscrupulous young scoundrel

as President.

When De Boer was banished with some of his most loyal followers, he

began a career of petty banditry in the Lowland's depths. Spawn and

Perona kept in communication with him, and, by a method which was

presently made startlingly clear to Jetta and me, De Boer smuggled the

quicksilver for Perona and Spawn. It was this activity which had

finally aroused my department and caused Hanley to send me to Nareda.

This however, was a dangerous, precarious occupation. De Boer did not

seem to think so, or care. But Perona and Spawn, with their

established positions in Nareda, were always fearful of exposure. Even

without my coming, they had planned to disconnect from De Boer.

"And for more than that," as Jetta had one day heard Perona remark to

her father. "I'll tell to you that this De Boer is not very straight

with us, Spawn." De Boer would, upon occasion, fail to make proper

return for the smuggled product.

* * * * *

So now they had planned a last coup in which De Boer was to help, and

then they would be done with him: the two of them, Spawn and Perona,

would remain as honest citizens of Nareda, and De Boer had agreed to

take himself away and pursue his banditry elsewhere.

It was a simple plan; it promised to yield a high stake quickly. A

final fling at illicit activity; then virtuous reformation, with

Perona marrying the little Jetta.

* * * * *

Beneath the strong room at the mine, Perona and Spawn had secretly

built a cleverly concealed little vault. De Boer, this night just

before the midnight hour, was to attack the mine. Spawn and Perona had

bribed the police guards to submit to this attack. The guards did not

know the details: they only knew that De Boer and his men would make a

sham attack, careful to harm none of them--and then De Boer would

withdraw. The guards would report that they had been driven away by a

large force. And when the excitement was over, the ingots of

radiumized quicksilver would have vanished!

De Boer, making away into distant Lowland fastnesses, would obviously

be supposed to have taken the treasure. But Perona, hidden alone in

the strong-room, would merely carry the ingots down into the secret

vault, to be disposed of at some future date. The ingots were well

insured, by an international company, against theft. The Nareda

government would receive one-third of that insurance as recompense for

the loss of its share. Perona and Spawn would get two-thirds--and have

the treasure as well.

* * * * *

Such was the present plan, into which, all unknown to me, I had been

plunged. And my presence complicated things considerably. So much so

that Perona grew vehement, this afternoon in the garden, explaining

why. His shrill voice carried clearly to Jetta, in spite of Spawn's

efforts to shut him up.

"I tell to you that Americano agent will undo us."

"How?" demanded the calmer Spawn.

"Already he has made Markes suspicious."

"Chut! You can befool Markes, Perona. You have for years been doing

it."

"This meddling fellow, he has met Jetta!"

"I do not believe it." There was a sudden grimness to Spawn's tone at

the thought. "I do not believe it. Jetta would not dare."

"You should have seen him flush when Markes mentioned at the

conference this morning that I am to marry Jetta. No one could miss

it. He has met her--I tell it to you--and it must have been last

night."

"So, you say?" Jetta could see her father's face, white with

suppressed rage. "You think that? And it is that this Grant might be

your rival, that worries you? Not our plans for to-night, which have

real importance--but worrying over a girl."

"She would not talk to me. She would not come out. He has no doubt put

wild ideas into her head. Spawn, you listen to me. I have always been

more clever than you at scheming. Is it not so? You have always said

it. I have a plan now, it fits our arrangements with De Boer, but it

will rid us of this Americano. When all is done and I have married

Jetta--"

* * * * *

Spawn interrupted impatiently. "You will marry Jetta, never fear. I

have promised her to you."

And because, as Jetta well knew, Perona had made it part of his

bargaining in financing Spawn. But this they did not now mention.

"To get rid of this Grant--well, that sounds meritorious. He is

dangerous around here. To that I agree."

"And with Jetta--"

"Have done, Perona!" With sudden decision Spawn leaped to his feet. "I

do not believe she would have dared talk to Grant. We'll have her out

and ask her. If she has, by the gods--"

It fell upon Jetta before she had time to gather her wits. Spawn

strode to her door, and found it fastened on the inside.

"Jetta, open at once!"

He thumped with his heavy fists. Confused and trembling she unsealed

it, and he dragged her out into the sunlight of the garden.

"Now then, Jetta, you have heard some of what we have been saying,

perhaps?"

"Father--"

"About this young American? This Grant?"

She stood cringing in his grasp. Spawn had never used physical

violence with Jetta. But he was white with fury now.

"Father, you--you are hurting me."

Perona interposed. "Wait Spawn! Not so rough! Let me talk to her.

Jetta, _chica mia_, your Greko is worried--"

"To the hell with that!" Spawn shouted. But he released the girl and

she sank trembling to the little seat by the pergola.

Spawn stood over her. "Jetta, look at me! Did you meet--did you talk

to Grant last night?"

She wanted to deny it. She clung to his angry gaze. But the habit of

all her life of truthfulness with him prevailed.

"Y-yes," she admitted.

CHAPTER IX

_Trapped_

"Spawn! Hold!"

There was an instant when it seemed that Spawn would strike the girl.

The blood drained from his face, leaving his dark eyes blazing like

torches. His hamlike fist went back, but Perona sprang for him and

clutched him.

"Hold, Spawn: I will talk to her. Jetta, so you did--"

The torrent of emotion swept Spawn; weakened him so that instead of

striking Jetta, he yielded to Perona's clutch and dropped his arm. For

a moment he stood gazing at his daughter.

"Is it so? And all my efforts, going for nothing, just like your

mother!" He no more than murmured it, and as Perona pushed him, he

sank to the bench beside Jetta. But did not touch her, just sat

staring. And she stared back, both of then aghast at the enormity of

this, her first disobedience.

I never had opportunity to know Spawn, except for the few times which

I have mentioned. Perhaps he was at heart a pathetic figure. I think,

looking back on it now that Spawn is dead, that there was a pathos to

him. Spawn had loved his wife, Jetta's mother. As a young man he had

brought her to the Lowlands to seek his fortune. And when Jetta was an

infant, his wife had left him. Run away, abandoning him and their

child.

* * * * *

Perhaps Spawn was never mentally normal after that. He had reared

Jetta with the belief that sin was inherent in all females. It

obsessed him. Warped and twisted all his outlook as he brooded on it

through the years. Woman's instincts; woman's love of pleasure, pretty

clothes--all could lead only to sin.

And so he had kept Jetta secluded. He had fought what he seemed to see

in her as she grew and flowered into girlhood, and denied her

everything which he thought might make her like her mother.

Spawn met his death within a few hours of this afternoon I am

describing. Perhaps he was no more than a scheming scoundrel. We are

instinctively lenient with our appraisal of the dead. I do not know.

"Jetta," Perona said to her accusingly, "that is true, then: you did

talk with that miserable Americano last night? You sinful, lying

girl."

The contrition within Jetta at disobeying her father faded before this

attack.

"I am not sinful." The trembling left her and she sat up and faced the

accusing Perona. "I did but talk to him. You speak lies when you say I

am sinful."

"You hear, Spawn? Defiant: already changed from the little Jetta I--"

"Yes, I am changed. I do not love you, Señor Perona. I think I hate

you." Her tears were very close, but she finished: "I--I won't marry

you. I won't!"

It stung Spawn. He leaped to his feet. "So you talk like that! It has

gone so far as this, has it? Get to your room! We will see what you

will and what you won't!"

* * * * *

Again the crafty Perona was calmest of them all. He thrust himself in

front of Spawn.

"Jetta, to-night you plan to see him again, no? To-night?--here?"

"No," she stammered.

"You lie!"

"No."

"You lie! Spawn look at her! Lying! She has planned to meet him

to-night! That is all we want to know." He broke into a cackling

chuckle. "That fits my new plan, Spawn. A tryst with Jetta, here in

the garden."

"Get to your room," Spawn growled. He dragged her back, and Perona

followed them.

"You lie there." Spawn flung her to her couch. "After this night's

work is done, we'll see whether you will or you won't."

"She may not stay in here." Perona suggested.

"She will stay."

"You seal her in?"

"I will seal her in."

Perona's eyes roved the little bedroom. One window oval and a door,

both overlooking the patio.

"But suppose she should get out? There is no way to seal that window

properly from outside. A cord!"

A long stout silken tassel-cord had been draped by Jetta at the window

curtain. Perona snatched it down.

"If her ankles and wrists were tied with this--"

"No!" burst out Jetta. And then a fear for me rushed over her. A

realization, forgotten in the stress of this conflict with her

father, now swept over her. They were planning harm to me.

"No, do not bind me."

* * * * *

A sudden caution came to her. She was making it worse for me. Already

she had done me immense harm.

She said suddenly, "Do what you like with me. I was wrong. I have no

interest in that American. It is you, Greko, I--I love."

Spawn did not heed her. Perona insisted, "I would tie her with care."

He helped Spawn rope her ankles, and then her wrists, crossed behind

her.

"A little gag, Spawn? She might cry out: we want no interference

to-night." He was ready with a large silken handkerchief. They thrust

it into her mouth and tied it behind her neck.

"There," growled Spawn. "You will and you won't: we shall see about

that. Lie still, Jetta. If I have need to come again to you--"

They left her. And this time she heard them less clearly. But there

were fragments:

Perona: "I will meet him again. After dark, to-night. Yes, he expects

me. For his money, Spawn, his pay in advance. This De Boer works not

for nothing."

Spawn: "You will arrange about your police on the streets? He can get

here to my house safely?"

"Oh yes, at the tri-evening hour, certainly before midnight, before

the attack on the mine. You must stay here, Spawn. Pretend to be

asleep: it will lure the fool Americano out in to the moonlight."

* * * * *

Jetta could piece it together fairly well. They would have De Boer

come and abduct me. Not tell him I was a government agent, with the

micro-safety alarm which they suspected I carried, but just tell De

Boer that I was a rich American, who could be abducted and held for a

big ransom.

Perona's voice rose with a fragment: "If he springs his alarm, here in

the moonlight, you can be here, Spawn, and pretend to try and rescue

him. A radio-image of that flashed to Hanley's office will exonerate

us of suspicion."

Perona would promise De Boer that the Nareda government would pay the

ransom quickly, collecting it later from the United States.

Spawn said, "You think De Boer will believe that?"

"Why should he not? I am skilful at persuasion, no? Let him find out

later that the United States Government trackers are after him!"

Perona cackled at the thought of it. "What of that? Let him kill this

Grant. All the better."

Spawn said abruptly: "The United States may catch De Boer. Have you

thought of that, Perona? The fellow would not shield us, but would

tell everything."

"And who will believe him? The wild tale of a trapped bandit! Against

your word, Spawn? You, an honest and wealthy mine owner? And I--I,

Greko Perona, Minister of Internal Affairs of the Sovereign Power of

Nareda! Who will dare to give me the lie because a bandit tells a wild

tale with no real facts to prop it?"

"Those police guards at the mine to-night?"

"Admit that they took your bribes? You are witless, Spawn! Let them

but admit it to me and of a surety I will fling them into

imprisonment! Now listen with care, for the after noon is going...."

Their voices lowered, then faded, and Jetta was left alone and

helpless. Spawn went back to the mine to meet me. We returned and had

supper, Jetta could dimly hear us.

* * * * *

There was silence about the house during the mid-evening. I had

slipped out and followed Perona to his meeting with De Boer. Then

Spawn had discovered my absence and had rushed to join Perona and

tell him.

But Jetta knew nothing of this. The hour of her tryst with me was

approaching. In the darkness of her room as she lay bound and gagged

on her couch, she could see the fitful moonlight rising to illumine

the window oval.

She squirmed at the cords holding her, but could not loosen them. They

cut into her flesh; her limbs were numb.

The evening wore on. Would I come to the garden tryst?

Jetta could not break her bonds. But gradually she had mouthed the gag

loose. Then she heard my hurried footsteps in the patio; then my tense

voice.

And at her answer I was pounding on her door. But it had been stoutly

sealed by Spawn. I flung my shoulder against it, raging, thumping. But

the heavy metal panels would not yield; the seal held intact.

"Jetta!"

"Philip, run away! They want to catch you! De Boer, the bandit, is

coming!"

"I know it!"

Fool that I was, to pause with talk! There was no time: I must get

Jetta out of here. Break down this door.

But it would not yield. A gas torch would melt this outer seal. Was

there a torch here at Spawn's? But I had no time to search for a

torch! Or a bar with which to ram this door--

A panic seized me, with the fresh realization that any instant De Boer

and his men would arrive. I beat with futile fists on the door, and

Jetta from within, calling to me to get away before I was caught.

This accursed door between us!

* * * * *

And then--after no more than half a minute, doubtless--I thought of

the window. My momentary panic left me. I dashed to the window oval.

Sealed. But the shutter curtain, and the glassite pane behind it, were

fragile.

"Jetta, are you near the window?"

"No. On the bed. They have tied me."

"Look out; I'm breaking through!"

There were loose rocks, as large as my head, set to mark the garden

path. I seized one and hurled it. With a crash it went through the

window and fell to the floor of the room. A jagged hole showed.

"All right, Jetta?"

"Yes! Yes, Philip."

I squirmed through the oval and dropped to the floor. My arms were cut

from the jagged glassite, though I did not know it then. It was dim

inside the room, but I could see the outline of the bed with her lying

on it.

Her ankles and wrists were tied. I cut the cords with my knife.

She was gasping. "They're planning to capture you. Philip! You should

not be here! Get away!"

"Yes. But I'm going to take you with me. Can you stand up?"

* * * * *

I set her on her feet in the center of the room. A shaft of moonlight

was coming through the hole in the window.

"Philip! You're bleeding!"

"It is nothing. Cut myself on the glassite. Can you stand alone?"

"Yes."

But her legs, stiffened and numb from having been bound so many hours,

bent under her. I caught her as she was falling.

"I'll be--all right in a minute. But Philip, if you stay here--"

"You're going with me!"

"Oh!"

I could carry her, if she could not run. But it would be slow; and it

would be difficult to get her through the window. And on the street we

would attract too much attention.

"Jetta, try to stand. Stamp your feet. I'll hold you."

I steadied her. Then I bent down, chafing her legs with my hands. Her

arms had been limp, but the blood was in them now. She murmured with

the tingling pain, and then bent over, frantically helping me rub the

circulation back into her legs.

"Better?"

"Yes." She took a weak and trembling step.

"Wait. Let me rub them more, Jetta."

Precious minutes!

"I'll knock out the rest of the window with that rock! We'll run;

we'll be out of here in a moment."

"Run where?"

"Away. Into hiding--out of all this. The United States patrol-ship is

coming from Porto Rico. It will take us from here."

"Where?"

"Away. To Great New York, maybe. Away from all this; from that old

fossil, Perona."

I was stooping beside her.

"I'm all right now, Philip."

I rose up, and suddenly found myself clasping her in my arms; her

slight body in the boy's ragged garb pressed against me.

"Jetta, dear, do you trust me? Will you come?"

"Yes. Oh, yes--anywhere, Philip, with you."

* * * * *

For only a breathless instant I lingered, holding her. Then I cast her

off and seized the rock from the floor. The jagged glassite fell away

under my blows.

"Now, Jetta. I'll go first--"

But it was too late! I stopped, stricken by the sound of a voice

outside!

"He's there! In the girl's room! That's her window!"

Cautious voices in the garden! The thud of approaching footsteps.

I shoved Jetta back and rushed to the broken window oval. The figures

of De Boer and his men showed in the moonlight across the patio. They

had heard me breaking the glassite. And they saw me, now.

"There he is, De Boer!"

We were trapped!

CHAPTER X

_The Murder in the Garden_

"Hans, keep back! I will go!"

"But Commander--"

"Armed? The hell he is not! Spawn said no. Spawn! Where is Spawn? He

was here."

I had dropped back from the window, and, gripping Jetta, stood in the

center of the room.

"Jetta, dear."

"Oh. Philip!"

"There's no other way out of here?"

"No! No!"

Only the heavy sealed door, and this broken window. The bandits in the

garden had paused at sight of me. Someone had called.

"He may be armed, De Boer."

They had stopped their forward rush and darted into the shelter of the

pergola. I might be armed!

We could hear their low voices not ten feet from us. But I was not

armed, except for my knife. Futile weapon, indeed.

"Jetta, keep back. If they should fire--"

* * * * *

I got a look through the oval. De Boer was advancing upon it, with his

barreled projector half levelled. He saw me again. He called:

"You American, come out!"

I crouched on the floor, pushing Jetta back to where the shadows of

the bed hid her.

"You American!"

He was close outside the window. "Come out--or I am coming in!"

I said abruptly, "Come!"

My blade was in my hand. If he showed himself I could slash his

throat, doubtless. But what about Jetta? My thoughts flashed upon the

heels of my defiant invitation. Suppose, as De Boer climbed in the

window, I killed him? I could not escape, and his infuriated fellows

would rush us, firing through the oval, sweeping the room, killing us

both. But Jetta now was in no danger. Her father was outside, and

these bandits were her father's friends. I would have to yield.

I called, louder, "Why don't you come in?"

Could I hold them off? Frighten them off, for a time, and make enough

noise so that perhaps someone passing in the nearby street would give

the alarm and bring help?

There was a sudden silence in the patio. The bandits had so far made

as little commotion as possible. Presently I could hear their low

voices.

* * * * *

I heard an oath. De Boer's head and shoulders appeared in the window

oval! His levelled projector came through. Perhaps he would not have

fired, but I did not dare take the chance. I was crouching almost

under the muzzle, so I straightened, gripped it, and flung it up. I

then slashed at his face with my knife, but he gripped my wrist with

powerful fingers. My knife fell as he twisted my wrist. His projector

had not fired. It was jammed between us. One of his huge arms reached

in and encircled me.

"Damn you!"

He muttered it, but I shouted, "Fool! De Boer, the bandit!"

I was aware of a commotion out in the garden.

"... Bring all Nareda on our ears? De Boer, shut him up!"

I was gripping the projector, struggling to keep its muzzle pointed

upwards. With a heave of his giant arms De Boer lifted me and jerked

me bodily through the window. I fell on my feet, still fighting. But

other hands seized me. It was no use. I yielded suddenly. I panted:

"Enough!"

They held me. One of them growled. "Another shout and we will leave

you here dead. Commander, _look_!"

My shirt was torn open. The electrode band about my chest was exposed!

De Boer towered head and shoulders over me. I gazed up, passive in the

grip of two or three of his men, and saw his face. His heavy jaw

dropped as he gazed at my little diaphragms, the electrode.

He knew now for the first time that this was no private citizen he had

assaulted. This official apparatus meant that I was a Government

agent.

* * * * *

There was an instant of shocked silence. An expression grim and

furious crossed the giant bandit's face.

"So this is it? Hans, careful--hold him!"

Jetta was still in her room, silent now. I heard Spawn's voice, close

at hand in the patio.

"De Boer! Careful!" It was the most cautious of half-whispers.

Abruptly someone reached for my chest; jerked at the electrode; tore

its fragile wires--the tiny grids and thumbnail amplifiers; jerked and

ripped and flung the whole little apparatus to the garden path. But it

sang its warning note as the wires broke. Up in Great New York Hanley

knew then that catastrophe had fallen upon me.

For a brief instant the crestfallen bandit mumbled at what he had

done. Then came Spawn's voice:

"Got him, De Boer? Good!"

Triumphant Spawn! He advanced across the garden with his heavy tread.

And to me, and I am sure to De Boer as well, there came the swift

realization that Spawn had been hiding safely in the background. But

my detector was smashed now. It might have imaged De Boer assailing

me: but now that it was smashed, Spawn could act freely.

"Good! So you have him! Make away to the mine!"

I did not see De Boer's face at that instant. But I saw his weapon

come up--an act wholly impulsive, no doubt. A flash of fury!

He levelled the projector, not at me, but at the on-coming Spawn.

"You damn liar!"

"De Boer--" It was a scream of terror from Spawn. But it came too

late. The projector hissed; spat its tiny blue puff. The needle

drilled Spawn through the heart. He toppled, flung up his arms, and

went down, silently, to sprawl on his face across the garden path.

* * * * *

De Boer was cursing, startled at his own action. The men holding me

tightened their grip. I heard Jetta cry out, but not at what had

happened in the garden: she was unaware of that. One of the bandits

had left the group and climbed into her room. Her cry now was

suppressed, as though the man's hand went over her mouth. And in the

silence came his mumbled voice:

"Shut up, you!"

There was the sound of a scuffle in there. I tore at the men holding

me.

"Let me go! Jetta! Come out!"

De Boer dashed for the window. I was still struggling. A hand cuffed

me in the face. A projector rammed into my side.

"Stop it, fool American!"

De Boer came back with a chastened bandit ahead of him. The man was

muttering and rubbing his shoulder, and De Boer said:

"Try anything like that again, Cartner, and I won't be so easy on

you."

De Boer was dragging Jetta, holding her by a wrist. She looked like a

terrified, half-grown boy, so small was she beside this giant. But the

woman's lines of her, and the long dark hair streaming about her white

face and over her shoulders, were unmistakable.

"His daughter." De Boer was chuckling. "The little Jetta."

* * * * *

All this had happened in certainly no more than five minutes. I

realized that no alarm had been raised: the bandits had managed it all

with reasonable quiet.

There were six of the bandits here, and De Boer, who towered over us

all. I saw him now as a swaggering giant of thirty-odd, with a

heavy-set smooth-shaved, handsome face.

He held Jetta off. "Damn, how you have grown, Jetta."

Someone said, "She knows too much."

And someone else, "We will take her with us. If you leave her here, De

Boer--"

"Why should I leave her? Why? Leave her--for Perona?"

Then I think that for the first time Jetta saw her father's body lying

sprawled on the path. She cried, "Philip!" Then she half turned and

murmured: "Father!"

She wavered, almost falling. "Father--" She went down, fainting,

falling half against me and against De Boer, who caught her slight

body in his arms.

"Come, we'll get back. Drag him!"

"But you can't carry that girl out like that, De Boer."

"Into the house: there is an open door. Hans, go out and bring the car

around to this side. Give me the cloaks. There is no alarm yet."

De Boer chuckled again. "Perona was nice to keep the police off this

street to-night!"

We went into the kitchen. An auto-car, which to the village people

might have been there on Spawn's mining business, slid quietly up to

the side entrance. A cloak was thrown over Jetta. She was carried like

a sack and put into the car.

I suddenly found an opportunity to break loose. I leaped and struck

one of the men. But the others were too quickly on me. The kitchen

table went over with a crash.

Then something struck me on the back of the head: I think it was the

handle of De Boer's great knife. The kitchen and the men struggling

with me faded. I went into a roaring blackness.

CHAPTER XI

_Aboard the Bandit Flyer_

I was dimly conscious of being inside the cubby of the car, with

bandits sitting over me. The car was rolling through the village

streets. Ascending. We must be heading for Spawn's mine. I thought of

Jetta. Then I heard her voice and felt her stir beside me.

The roaring in my head made everything dreamlike. I sank half into

unconsciousness again. It seemed an endless interval, with only the

muttering hiss of the car's mechanism and the confused murmurs of the

bandits' voices.

Then my strength came. The cold sweat on me was drying in the night

breeze that swept through the car as it climbed the winding ascent. I

could see through its side oval a vista of bloated Lowland crags with

moonlight on them.

It seemed that we should be nearly to the mine. We stopped. The men in

the car began climbing out.

De Boer's voice: "Is he conscious now? I'll take the girl."

Someone bent over me. "You hear me?"

"Yes," I said.

I found myself outside the car. They held me on my feet. Someone

gratuitously cuffed me, but De Boer's voice issued a sharp, low-toned

rebuke.

"Stop it! Get him and the girl aboard."

* * * * *

There seemed thirty or forty men gathered here. Silent dark figures in

black robes. The moonlight showed them, and occasionally one flashed a

hand search-beam. It was De Boer's main party gathered to attack the

mine.

I stood wavering on my feet. I was still weak and dizzy, with a lump

on the back of my head where I had been struck. The scene about me was

at first unfamiliar. We were in a rocky gully. Rounded broken walls.

Caves and crevices. Dried ooze piled like a ramp up one side. The

moonlight struggled down through a gathering mist overhead.

I saw, presently, where we were. Above the mine, not below it: and I

realized that the car had encircled the mine's cauldron and climbed

to a height beyond it. Down the small gully I could see where it

opened into the cauldron about a hundred feet below us. The lights of

the mine winked in the blurred moonlight shadows.

The bandits led me up the gully. The car was left standing against the

gully side where it had halted. De Boer, or one of his men, was

carrying Jetta.