OATH OF VENGEANCE
They went down a flight of stone steps to the ground. Alan found that
the tower now was set in the midst of a garden of gloriously vivid
blossoms. The air was redolent with their perfume. A brook of sunlit
water flowed near by. There were cool bushes and shade trees, green and
brown; cool green lawns of sward; little winding paths.
A garden of a few acres. It was all inclosed by a wall of masonry--a
wall some twenty or thirty feet high, looped and turreted. The figure
of a man was on the top of the wall, over a gateway fairly near at
hand. As they stepped from the tower his arm went up with a gesture of
recognition.
Realization swept Alan. This garden, this wall, this pacing sentry--all
this we had seen on the television. We had witnessed then the tower's
departure; by some vagary of Nature's laws the etheric waves carrying
this image had come to us of 1945.
They passed through the gateway of the wall. The guard on its top
called down something; and stared at Alan curiously as they passed
through.
Beyond the wall a sylvan landscape was spread to Alan's gaze. The Space
of Manhattan Island. He could still recognize it. A river behind him.
Another river ahead a mile or so. The Hudson shimmering in its valley.
He could see the cliffs of its further bank.
Near at hand the open country was dotted with trees, checkered with
round patches of cultivated fields. There were figures working in the
fields. And occasional habitations--low, oval houses of green thatch.
A road of dull smooth white wound from this gateway over the
countryside toward the river. Animals, strange of aspect, were slowly
dragging carts.
A city was off there, along this nearer bank of the river--a stretch
of houses more closely set. City! It seemed some primitive village.
All this--primitive; as though here might be some lost Indian tribe of
our early ages. The field workers, garbed in vivid colors. Their squat
little carts, slow-moving with broad-horned oxen. The quiet village
strung along the calm-flowing river. All picturesque and primitive.
But Alan knew it was not barbarism, but decadence. Civilization had
reached its summit, and declined. Fallen back, to this.
Lea was in advance of Alan and San. She turned into a small gateway.
They passed through a garden profuse with flowers. A low house stood
here, half hidden by the verdure. An old man was at the doorway--a
stalwart old fellow with a furious white beard; a shaggy white mane of
hair; a robe of sober gray, monklike with its rope about his bulging
middle.
He greeted Lea and San with a gesture of affection. He stared
open-mouthed at Alan. Lea explained to him swiftly. And then came
relief to Alan. This old patriarch spoke what he doubtless called the
ancient English. He said slowly, with a meticulous, careful intonation:
"I thank you for saving Lea from Wolf Turber."
"But we've got to locate them," Alan insisted. "How can we? With this
cloak? Yes, it belongs to my sister."
"I will take you shortly to my instrument room," said the old man. "I
have had Lentz, my assistant, preparing the Time-vision--we cannot do
it more quickly."
* * * * *
They had talked now for perhaps half an hour--old Powl, as he was
called, interpreting for Lea and San. He was their grandfather. It
was he who had discovered the secret of this Time-traveling tower. He
had built it; and had constructed also a series of instruments which
he called Time-vision. He was, in this age of decadence, one of the
few living scientists. And he was a language student as well--he had
trained himself in many of the dead languages of the past.
"My son," Powl said, "the father of Lea and San took my tower and once
stopped in the year you call about 1925. He paused for just a moment,
but when he returned here there was found a young man with him. A
stowaway, as you would call it. That man was Wolf Turber."
It was all presently clear to Alan. Turber had come here; had stolen
the secret of the tower and the Time-vision, and getting followers had
built himself his Time-vehicle--and departed.
"He said he was in love with Lea. But she was afraid of him--his
attentions were unwelcome. We told him so."
Like Nanette! "I understand," said Alan bitterly. "My sister--"
"He has her now, you tell me. That is bad. You must get her back. And
kill him."
The old man's mild blue eyes suddenly flashed. Lea spoke. He
interpreted.
"She says, I must tell you--we have sworn to kill Turber. He murdered
my son--father of Lea and San. Stole our platinum treasure--and
murdered my son, who was defending it."
Alan thought he had never heard such intensity as came into the old
man's voice. "We are careful with our tower--we do nothing evil with
it. Turber's vehicle is all for evil. My son died--and there as he died
we swore--myself and Lea and San--that some time we would kill Turber
and destroy his vehicle."
Lea and San understood what he was saying. They stood beside him, with
faces white and solemn. He added: "But there seems little that we can
do. There are no weapons here. We have no need in this age for any
scientific weapons. I cannot travel in the tower--I am too old to stand
the shock. San must always stay with it--to guard it. And so it all
falls to Lea. She has passed through the different ages in the tower.
There are weapons in the Past, of course. But I have not wanted Lea to
stop. And Turber is very powerful, very elusive."
Lea interrupted again. Powl said: "We know that Turber has a
strong-hold in the year 2445 A.D."
"Five hundred years in the future of my Time-world," said Alan.
"Yes. Your city of New York is then about at its height. Turber is
powerful there--impregnable. There is only one other Time in which
Turber habitually stops. The year 1945. Lea went there. But it was
foolish, we all realize now. As you know--she could accomplish nothing.
And but for you, Turber would have had her!"
Again Lea interrupted. Powl translated: "She wants me to say that
now she will learn your Ancient English. There are so many dead
languages--but she is very quick to learn--when interested."
"Interested?" said Alan. His gaze went to Lea's eager face. A wave of
color swept her; but her eyes remained level and she held out her hand.
Its touch thrilled Alan. As though the clasp were sealing a compact;
unspoken, but he could read her eyes and feel, surprisingly, the sudden
answer in his own heart.
San, too, held out his hand. Powl said: "My children find in you a
friend--sorely needed." Again the old man's eyes flashed. "We have
sworn that Turber will die. He has your sister, and your friend. Your
own purpose--"
"To get them back," said Alan. "But where is he? I don't think he will
return to 1945. You say he is impregnable in 2445--"
"Yes. But he is not there now. If he stops--in some earlier age, as we
hope--then will be your opportunity."
* * * * *
A man came to the doorway of the room, spoke to Powl, and disappeared.
Powl stood up. He said, with brisk energy:
"The instruments are ready. Turber, we think, is still traveling in
time. We will try, with your sister's cloak, to locate him as soon as
he stops anywhere."
They left the house, crossing the gardens toward an outbuilding in
which was the instrument room. Alan's mind was tumultuous with his
thoughts. This incredible catastrophe into which so unexpectedly
he and those he loved had fallen! Alan had always been one to walk
alone in life. He made few friends; his friendship for me, his love
for Nanette--to these he could now add an emotion, as yet barely
understood, his feeling for Lea.
Into this, his world, Turber had suddenly thrust himself, abducting
Nanette; capturing, perhaps killing me. What could Alan do about it?
Suppose they located the Time-world to which Turber had gone? Alan
could go there--with this girl Lea to help him and San to guard the
tower. Hopeless adventure! He had one small weapon, his revolver. And a
frail girl for companion. There seemed no one else from whom he could
get help. No one in this Time-world of Lea's.
His mind roved the possibility of getting help elsewhere. His own world
of 1945? Who could he get there to do more than smile incredulously at
his fantastic tale? He envisaged all the other centuries. But to go to
any one of them for help--for weapons and men--was hardly practical.
He would be a stranger; he would fall into a strange civilization with
only this same incredible story to aid him. He would be imprisoned
perhaps--or, at best, be disregarded as a lunatic.
Lea had faced all this. She had tried it in 1945. It was not feasible.
Alan saw now that he would have to depend upon himself. The tower
would transport him. The rest lay with himself, his own wits. He felt
that very probably I was dead. He would rescue Nanette from Turber's
clutches if he could. For the rest--this oath of vengeance sworn by
Lea and her brother against Turber--Alan gritted his teeth; and as
he thought of Nanette's gentle beauty and Turber's grinning, satanic
visage, he swore to himself a similar oath. He would kill Turber if he
could!
"This way," said Powl. "Stoop down--you are so tall for our door
openings."
It was a low-vaulted room, dimly illumined. A laboratory crowded with
strangely fashioned apparatus. Powl made no attempt at explanation of
his devices. Nor was Alan interested, except in one--the Time-vision
which might disclose Nanette.
"My assistant," said Powl. "He is called Lentz--he speaks a little of
your ancient language."
A man of about thirty rose from a seat before one of the instruments.
He offered his hand. Powl added to Alan:
"You may speak openly before Lentz. He is my trusted helper--the only
person besides ourselves who knows the secrets of my Time-vision and of
the tower."
He was an undersized, heavy-set fellow, garbed in a short robe like
San's. His black hair was clipped close on a bullet head. He wore
goggles which now were pushed up on his forehead.
"I speak very little," he said as he shook hands. "I am ready if it is
you have the cloak."
The tubes of this instrument might have been Neon lamps by their
aspect. There were coils; a multiplicity of wires; a tiny series of
amplifiers; a system of prisms and mirrors; beams of lights, whirling
from tiny mirrors swiftly rotating. There was a metal tube like a
small microscope; a rack beneath it, upon which a dull red light was
focused. There were rows of dials--tuning dials, and indicators; and a
large fluorescent screen which seemed under electronic bombardment from
the rear. The whole apparatus occupied a table some six feet long, with
the dials to one side and the screen upright at its end.
* * * * *
Lentz placed Nanette's cloak upon the rack; he focused the red light
upon it; then stood gazing into the eyepiece of the tube as one might
gaze into a microscope.
Lea and San stood by Alan. Lea gestured toward the screen; it was
empty of image. Then she pointed to one of the dials. Alan saw it
bore figures he could understand--figures ranging over thousands of
centuries. Some of it B.C.; the rest A.D. There was a point on it
marked zero. The indicator stood there at rest.
"Your ancient calendar," said Powl. "With this garment belonging to
your sister we may be able to tune our receivers and make connection.
The image of her is here in the ether--if we can adjust to it."
Lentz was twirling the tuning knobs. The pointers on all the dials
stirred a little; images seemed trying to form on the fluorescent
screen.
A minute. Ten minutes. Then Lentz relaxed.
"Not now," he said. "It will not come. Presently we try again."
"They may still be traveling," said Powl. "It would be difficult to get
the image--"
They waited; then tried again, but failed. Where was Nanette? Despair
flooded Alan. Over all these diversified centuries, how could they ever
find her? She seemed so hopelessly far away. And yet he realized not
far in Space. A few miles from here probably, no more.
"We will never find her," said Lentz.
Alan gazed at him sharply. "You think not?"
"No." The fellow seemed confused under Alan's eyes. "That I mean--I
hope so, but it seems not."
"We must keep trying," said Powl. "The other instrument is more
sensitive. Have you the tubes for it connected?"
"No," said Lentz.
The tubes were in an adjoining room. Lentz went in to prepare them.
The connecting door was open; Alan heard Lentz moving about, and heard
presently the hiss and snap of a current as he charged the tubes.
San and Lea sat murmuring together in low tones. They addressed Powl.
He listened. He said to Alan:
"Lea wants me to explain--if Turber takes your sister directly to the
great city of 2445, still it is not quite hopeless. We think we have
located a weapon--a single very powerful weapon--"
The old man's voice lowered. Lea and San bent forward intently. There
was a weapon--a projector, Powl called it--which was mentioned in
history. It had been built as an historical curiosity. It stood in a
museum of Greater New York. The contemporary history of that Time--when
weapons of such a kind were long since abandoned--said that this
specimen in the museum was in perfect working order. Its operation was
described. It was scientifically preserved in the museum against the
ravages of time.
Lea and San--traveling in their tower--had seen the Time-world when the
city was crumbled into ruins. The museum was abandoned; there would be
no one there to stop Lea if she went and searched in the ruins of the
museum for the projector.
Powl was talking very softly. A tenseness was on him.
"This we have told no one."
"What Time-world?" Alan asked.
"We think the best year to try for it would be about 5000 A.D."
It chanced that of the four of them, only Alan was facing the doorway
of the connecting room. The sound of Lentz moving about was suddenly
stilled. The realization of that struck Alan.
A segment of the other room was visible through the open door; Lentz
was not in sight, but it seemed as though a shadow of him lay on the
floor near the doorway.
Alan whispered sharply, "Quiet." He leaped to his feet; he darted
noiselessly across the room with the startled glances of his companions
upon him. Beyond the doorway he came upon Lentz standing close against
the wall. A tube was in his hand; he was polishing it with a piece of
cloth.
"Oh," said Alan. "I didn't know you were here."
"The instrument will be ready quite shortly." Lentz moved back to his
work.
* * * * *
Alan returned to his seat. He murmured to Powl: "Let's talk about that
later--not now."
Lea touched his arm. She whispered: "Yes--yes, understand--not now."
The thing startled them all. There was a brief silence; they could hear
Lentz moving normally about the other room.
Alan asked Powl at last: "Can you operate your instrument here? Without
Lentz to do it?"
"Lea and San can," said Powl. "Though not so well as Lentz."
"Let's try it again, but wait a minute."
Alan went to the door. "Lentz, how soon will you be ready?"
Lentz looked up from his work. "Quite shortly."
"Good. I'll close this door. Knock when you're ready." He ignored the
fellow's surprise, and dropped the door closed with a bang.
"Now," said Alan. "Try it."
With Nanette's cloak again, Lea and San tried the instrument. Almost
at once results came. The screen showed an image. A starlit night. A
forest glade. Turber's aero lay glistening in the starlight. Figures
were moving about the glade. Strangely garbed, burly figures of men;
and a group of half-naked, feathered savages stood near by, upon the
shore of a river. A canoe lay there. To one side, a camp fire showed
its dull yellow light through the forest underbrush.
There was an air of inactivity about the scene. Turber came presently
and stood in the cabin doorway of the aero. His familiar hunched
figure, with the starlight on him and a yellow-red glow from the camp
fire. Turber, waiting here for something!
The dial marked 1664 A.D. Powl was trembling with eagerness. Lea and
San snapped off the instrument. San had recognized the location of
the scene. It was the Hudson River shore of Manhattan Island, no more
than a mile from the tower-space. Powl said hurriedly: "San has the
exact reading--the year, month and day. Turber will not expect you,
that night there in the forest. If you can creep up on him with your
revolver--"
It might be possible, in the gloom of the forest, to get up to the
aero unobserved.
They made a few hurried preparations. San and Lea would not be able to
talk with Alan; they made their plans now, with Powl for interpreter.
Back at the tower, Powl stood by its steps.
"Good-by. Do your best." He gripped Alan's hand.
The tower door closed upon Alan, Lea and San. A moment, and they had
started. The room reeled, but this time Alan was prepared for it. He
recovered in a moment. He stood by Lea and smiled. He said: "Not so bad
this time."
"No," said Lea. "All right."
There was a sound in the humming, vibrating room. A rustling behind
them. From a shadowed corner a figure rose up.
Lentz! His swart face was smiling. He was by the door. He had followed
them in. He said to Alan: "I thought better I come, so I can talk for
you and them. We must plan carefully what we do. I want to help you."