The trees around us expanded to towering forest giants. The underbrush
rose up over our heads. We had taken a taste of the diminishing drug.
Glora showed us how to touch it to our tongue several times, to adjust
our size as we became smaller. It took us no more than a minute to
diminish. We could hear the roar of the crowd, and Polter's voice
shouting. We ran forward through the great forest. It was a fair
distance out to the starlit road. We saw it as a wide shining esplanade.
The people now were giants twice our height! Polter, himself towering
with a seeming fifty-foot stature, was standing by the gigantic canopy
of the dock. He had dispersed the crowd. There was an open space on the
esplanade--a run for us of about a hundred feet.
"We've got to chance it," I murmured. "Make a run for it--now."
We darted across. In the confusion, with all eyes centered on Polter, we
escaped discovery. It was dim under the dock canopy. Polter had backed
from the road and was walking to the barge. It lay like the length of an
ocean liner, its sail looming an enormous spread above it. The gunwale
was level with the dock. A dozen or more fifty-foot men were greeting
Polter. They were amidships.
I realize now that in those moments as we scurried aboard like wharf
rats, we took wild chances. We made for the stern which momentarily was
unoccupied. To Polter and his men we were eight or nine inches tall. We
dropped over the gunwale, slid down the thirty or forty-foot incline of
the interior and landed on the bottom of the boat.
There were many places where we could safely hide. A litter of gigantic
rope-strands was around us. We could see the bottom of a crossbench
looming over head, and the great curving sides of the vessel with the
gunwales outlined against the starlight.
The boat left the dock in a moment; the sail bellied out, enormous over
us. Ten feet forward from us the towering figure of a man sat on a bench
with the steering mechanism before him. Further on, the other men were
dispersed, with one or two in the distant bow. Polter reclined on a
cushioned couch amidships. Looking along the dark widely level bottom
of the boat there were only the feet and legs of men visible.
Alan whispered, "Let's get closer."
We were insects soundlessly scuttling unnoticed in the dimness. It was
noisy down here--the clank of the steering mechanism; the swish and
surge of the water against the hull; the voices of the men.
We passed the boots of the seated helmsmen, and found another hiding
place nearer Polter. We could see his giant length plainly. None of the
other men were near him. He was reclining on an elbow, stretched at ease
on a cushion. And at the moment, he was fumbling with the chains that
fastened the little golden cage to his chest. The cage was double its
former size to us now. A shaft of pale light came down, reflected from
the great sail surface overhead. It struck the bars of the cage. We
could see a small figure in there.
Then we heard Polter's voice. "I will let you out, Babs. You come out,
sit on my hand and talk with me. That will be nice? We haf a little
time."
He unfastened the cage and put it on the cushion beside him. He was
still propped up on one elbow.
"I let you out, now. Be careful, Babs."
My heart was almost smothering me. "Alan! We've got to get still closer!
Try something! Get large, shall we?"
Alan whispered tensely, "I don't know! I don't know what to do."
"We can get closer," Glora whispered. "But never larger--not here. They
would discover us too soon."
We crept forward. We reached the edge of the cushion. Its top surface
was a trifle lower than our heads--a billowing, wrinkled mass of fabric.
But I saw that the folds of it were rough enough to afford a footing. I
thought that I could climb it. We stood erect. There was a deep shadow
along here, but it was brighter on the cushion top. We could see over
its edge; an undulating spread of surface with the giant length of
Polter stretched over it. The cage was near us. Polter's great fingers
fumbled with it; a door in the lattice bars flipped open.
"Careful, my Babs!" His voice was a throaty, rumbling roar above us.
"Careful! I do not want you to be hurt."
From the little doorway came the figure of Babs! The starlight glowed on
her blue dress; her black hair was tumbling over her shoulders; her face
was pale but she was unharmed.
I think that I had never loved her so much as at that moment. Nor ever
seen her so beautiful as in miniature, standing at the door of her
golden cage, bravely facing the monstrous misshapen figure of her
captor.
We heard her small voice.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Stand quiet. Now I put my hand for you."
His monstrous hand bristled with a thatch of heavy black hair. He slid
it carefully along the cushion. Babs was barely the length of one of its
finger joints. She climbed upon its palm.
"That iss right, Babs. Now I bring you--hold tight to my finger. Here, I
crook the little one. Fling your arms around it."
With a swoop his hand took her aloft and away. Then we saw her, twenty
feet or so in the air, still on his hand as he held it near his face.
"Now we haf a little talk, Babs. When we get to the island, I put you
back in your cage."
I had a sudden flash of realization. There was something I could do. I
know now my judgment was bad. I recall it struck me that Alan would want
to do it also. And, perhaps, even Glora. But that wouldn't work. My
chances, however desperate, were better alone. Glora and Alan--in our
present size--could doubtless disembark safely. Glora knew the layout
of the island. And she could follow Polter.
Alan and Glora were standing beside me peering over that billowing
cushion spread toward the distant giant palm with Babs standing upon it.
I gripped Alan's shoulder.
"See here, Alan," I whispered vehemently: "What ever happens, we must
follow Polter. Glora knows the way. Some opportunity will come to get
large without being discovered. Then we'll rush Polter!"
Alan's white face turned to me. "Yes, that's what we're planning. But
George, here on this boat--"
"Of course not. Can't do it here. Tell Glora, to be sure to follow
Polter. Whatever happens, you'll think of nothing else: you won't will
you?"
"George, what--"
"We've got to make some opportunity." I was trembling inside, fearful
that Alan would be suspicious of me. Yet I had to make sure that he and
Glora would stay as close to Polter as possible.
"All right," Alan agreed. "Listen to them."
Polter was talking to Babs. But I didn't hear the words I moved a trifle
away. Rash decision! I hardly decided anything. There was only the
vision of Babs before me and my love for her. My desperate need of doing
something; getting to her, seeing her, being with her. I wanted her near
my own size again as though the blessed normality of that would
rationalize and lessen her danger. If only I had been less rash! If only
back there in that tunnel I had stopped to see what it was my foot
kicked against!
I slid away. Alan and Glora did not notice it; they were whispering
together and gazing over the cushion at Babs. In the shadow of the
cushion I moved some ten feet. On the undulating top of the cushion the
little golden cage stood with its lattice door open. It was a few feet
from my face.
I fumbled at my belt for the diminishing vial. I found one pellet left.
Well, that would be enough. I was hurried. Alan might discover me.
Polter might put Babs back in the cage and close its door. We might be
near the island already, and the confusion, the activity of disembarking
would defeat me. A thousand things might happen.
I touched the pellet to my tongue. In a few seconds the drug action had
come and passed. The cushion top loomed well over my head. The side was
a ridged, indescribably unnatural vista of cliff wall. The fabric was
coarse with hairy strands, dented into little ravines and crevices. I
climbed and I came panting to the pillow surface. The golden cage was
six or eight feet away and was now two feet high.
Again I touched the drug to my tongue; held it an instant. The cage drew
away; grew to a normal six-foot height; then larger, until in a moment
it stopped. I stood peering at it, trying to gauge its size in relation
to me. I wanted so intensely now to appear normal in Babs' eyes. The
cage seemed about ten feet high. A little less, possibly. I barely
tasted the pellet, and replaced it carefully in the vial. I could only
hope its efficacy would be preserved.
I had to chance that I wouldn't be seen while crossing this billowy
expanse. I ran. The rope strands of the fabric now had spaces between
their curving surfaces. The cage was a shining golden house, set on this
wide rolling area. Far in the distance there was a blur--Polter's
reclining body.
I reached the cage. It was a room about ten feet square and equally as
high. Walled solid, top and bottom, and on three sides. The front was a
lattice of bars, with a narrow six-foot doorway, standing open now.
I dashed in. The interior was not wholly bare. There was a metal-wrought
couch fastened to the wall, with a railing around it and handles. It
suggested a ship's bunk. There was a railing at convenient height all
around the wall.
I sought a hiding place. I saw just one--under the couch. It was
secluded enough. There was a grillelike lattice extending down from the
seat to the floor. I squeezed under one end, and lay wedged behind the
grille.
How much time passed I don't know. My thoughts were racing. Babs would
be coming.
I heard the distant approaching rumble of Polter's voice. Through the
grille I could see across the floor of the ten foot cage to the front
lattice bars. Outside, there appeared a huge, pink-white, mottled
blob--Polter's hand, a ridged and pitted surface with great, bristling
black stalks of hair.
The figure of Babs came through the cage doorway. Blessed normality! The
same slim little Babs who always stood, since we were both matured, with
her head about level with my shoulders.
The latticed door swung shut with a reverberating metallic clank. Babs
stood tense, clinging to the wall railing. I heard the blurred rumble of
Polter's voice.
"Hold tightly, my little Babs!"
The room lurched; went upward and sidewise with a wild dizzying swoop.
Babs clung to the rail and I was wedged prone under the couch. Then the
movement stopped; there was a jolting, rocking, and outside I heard the
clank of metal. Polter was fastening the chains of the cage to his
chest.
A white glow now came through the bars. It was starlight reflecting from
Polter's shirt bosom. An abyss of distance was outside. I could see
nothing but the white glow.
Momentarily there was very little movement in the room. Only the
rhythmic sway of Polter's breathing and an occasional jolt as he shifted
his position. The floor was tilted at a sharp angle. Babs came toward
the couch, pulling herself along the wall railing.
I called softly, "Babs!"
She stopped. I called again, "Babs! Don't cry out! It's George!
Here--stand still!"
She gave a little cry. "George--where are you? I don't--"
I slid out from my concealment and stood up, holding to the railing.
Blessed normality of size! She cried again, "George! You! How did you
get here?"
She edged along the railing, a step or two down the tilting floor, then
released her hold and flung herself into my waiting arms.
"I think we are landing. Hold on to the railing, George. When the room
moves it goes with a rush."
Babs laughed softly. It must have seemed to her, after being alone in
here, that now our plight was far less desperate. She had told me how
she was captured. A man accosted her on the Terrace, saying he wanted to
speak to her about Alan. Then a weapon threatened her. Amid all those
people she was held up in old-fashioned style, hurried to a taxicar and
whirled away.
She was saying now, "When Polter moves, it is dizzying. You'll see."
"I have already, Babs. Heavens, what a swoop!"
The room was more level now. We carefully drew ourselves to the front
lattice. Polter was standing, and we had the white sheen from his shirt
front. A sheer drop was outside the bars, but looking down I could see
the outlines of his body with the huge spread of the boat's cockpit
underneath us.
A confusion of rumbling voices sounded. Blurred giant shapes were
outside. The room jolted and swayed as the boat landed and Polter
disembarked.
Babs stood clinging to me. We, at least, were normal in this metal
barred room, Babs and I. But outside was the abnormality of largeness. I
think that in relation to us, the men were of over two hundred-foot
stature, and the hunched Polter a trifle less. It seemed as he walked
that we were lurching at least a hundred and fifty feet above ground.
"You had better hide," Babs urged. "He might stop and speak to someone.
If anyone looked in here you would be seen; no chance then, even to get
across the room."
It was true. But for a few moments I lingered. I could distinguish
vegetation on their flat roof-tops, as though flower gardens were laid
there.
We passed a house with its hundred-foot oval windows all aglow with
light. Music floated out--a distant blare of sounds, and the ribald
laughter of giant voices. I had seen no women among these giants of the
island. But now a huge face was at one of the ovals. A dissolute,
painted woman of Earth, staring out at Polter as he passed. It was like
the enormous close-up image on a large motion picture screen. She
shouted ribald jest as he went by.
"George, please go back. Suppose she had seen you?"
We were ascending a hill. A distance ahead a great oblong building
loomed like a giant's palace, which indeed it was. We headed for it,
passed through a vast arching doorway into the greater dimness of an
echoing interior. I scurried back across the lurching room and again
wedged myself under the couch. Babs stood at the lattice ten feet away.
We dared to talk in low tones; the rumbling voices and footsteps outside
would make our tiny voices inaudible to Polter.
I was tense with my plans. I had told them to Babs. With the one
remaining partially used pellet of the diminishing drug we could make
ourselves small enough to walk out through the bars. Then my black vial
of the enlarging drug, as yet unused, would take us up, out to our own
world. We could not use the drugs now. But the chance might come when
Polter would set the cage on the ground, or somewhere so that we might
climb down from it, with a chance to hide and get large before we were
discovered. I would fight our way upward; all I needed was a fair start
in size.
But I lay now with doubts assailing me. This was the first moment I had
had for calm thoughts, though in truth they were far from calm! Were
Alan and Glora following us now? I could only hope so. Once out of this,
Babs and I would have to rejoin them. But how? Panic swept me. I
shouldn't have left them. Or at least I should have told them what I was
trying to do, and given Alan a chance to plan.
The panic grew, the premonition of disaster. From my belt I took the
opalescent vial with its one partially used pellet. I dumped the pellet
out. It was spoiling! The exposure to the air and the moisture of my
tongue, had ruined it! I realized the catastrophe, as I held its
crumbling, deliquescing fragments on my palm it melted into vapor and
was gone!
We couldn't make ourselves smaller! Now we'd have to wait until Polter
opened the cage. But once outside, the enlarging drug would give us our
chance to fight our way upward. My trembling fingers sought the black
vial in my belt. It wasn't there! My mind flung back: in that tunnel,
something had dropped and I had kicked it! Accursed chance! My accursed,
heedless stupidity!
I had lost the black vial! We were helpless! Caged! Marooned here in a
size microscopic!