CHAPTER VIII

I lay concealed and Babs stood at the lattice of our cage room. I was

aware that Polter had entered some vast apartment of this giant palace.

The light outside was brighter; I heard voices--Polter's and another

man's. I could see the distant monster shape of one. He was at first so

far away that all his outline was visible. A seated man in a huge white

room. I thought there were great shelves with enormous bottles. The

spread of table tops passed under our cage as Polter walked by them.

They held a litter of apparatus, and there was the smell of chemicals in

the air. This seemed to be a laboratory.

The man stood up to greet Polter. I had a glimpse of his head and

shoulders. He wore a white linen coat, open, soft collar and black tie.

He seemed an old man, queerly old, with snow-white hair.

I had an instant of whirling impressions. Something was familiar about

his face. It was wrinkled and seamed with lines of age and care. There

were gentle blue eyes.

Then all I could see was the vast spread of his white shirt and coat, a

black splotch of his tie outside our bars as Polter faced him.

Babs gave a low cry. "Why--why--dear God--"

And then I knew! And Polter's words were not needed, though I heard

their rumble.

"I am back again, Kent. Are you still rebellious? You haf still

determined to compound no more of our drugs? You would rather I killed

you? Then see what I haf here. This little cage, someone--"

It was Dr. Kent whom he addressed. He must have been here all these

years!

Babs turned her white face toward me. "George, it's father! He's alive!"

"Quiet, Babs! Don't let him know I'm here. Remember!"

The old man recognized her. "Babs!" It was an agonized cry. The blur of

him was gone as he sank down into his chair.

Polter continued standing, I could envisage his sardonic grin.

From over us came Polter's rumble. "She iss glad to see you, Kent. I haf

her here, safe. You always knew I would nefer be satisfied until I had

my little Babs? Well, now I haf her. Can you hear me?"

A sudden desperate calmness fell on Babs. She called evenly. "Yes, I

hear you. Father, don't anger him. Do what he says. Dr. Polter, will you

let me be with my father? After all these years, let me be with him,

just for a little while. In his size--normal."

"Hah! My Babs iss scheming."

"No, I want to talk to him, after all these years when I thought he was

dead."

"Scheming? You think, my little Babs, that he has the drugs? I am not so

much a fool. He makes them. He can do that. And that last secret

reaction, only he can perform. He iss stubborn. Never would he tell me

that one reaction. But he makes no drugs complete, only when I am here."

"No, Dr. Polter! I want only to be with him."

The old man's broken voice floated up to us. "You won't harm her,

Polter?"

"No. Fear nothing. But you no longer rebel?"

"I'll do what you tell me." The tones carried hopeless resignation,

years of being beaten down, rebelling--but now this last blow vanquished

him. Then he spoke again, with a sudden strange fire.

"Even for the life of my daughter, I will not make your drugs, Polter,

if you mean to harm our Earth."

The golden cage room swooped as Polter sat down. "Hah! Now we bargain.

What do you care what I do to your world? You never will see it again. I

can lie to you. My plans--"

"I _do_ care."

"Well, I will tell you, Kent. I am good-natured now. Why should I not

be with my dear little Babs? I tell you, I am done with the Earth world.

It iss much nicer here. My friends, they haf a good time always. We like

this little atom realm. I am going out once more. I must hide the little

piece of golden quartz so no harm will come to it."

Polter was evidently in a high good humor. His voice fell to an intimate

tone of comradeship; but still I could not mistake the irony in it.

"You listen to me, Kent. There was a time, years ago, when we were good

friends. You liked your young assistant, the hunchback Polter. Iss it

not so? Then why should we quarrel now? I am gifing up the Earth world.

I wanted of it only the little Babs.... You look at me so strange! You

do not speak."

"There is nothing to say," retorted Dr. Kent wearily.

"Then you listen. I haf much gold above in Quebec. You know that. So

very simple to take it out of our atom, grow large with it to what we

call up there the size of a hundred feet. I haf a place, a room,

secluded from prying eyes under a dome roof. I become very tall, holding

a piece of gold. It is large when I am a hundred feet tall. So I haf

collected much gold. They think I own a mine. I haf a smelter and my

gold quartz I make into ingots, refined to the standard purity. So

simple, and I am a rich man.

"But gold does not bring happiness, my friend Kent." He chuckled

ironically at his use of the platitude. "There iss more in life than the

ownership of gold. You ask my plans. I haf Babs, now. I am gifing up the

Earth world. The mysterious man they know as Frank Rascor will vanish. I

will hide our little fragment of quartz. No one up there will even try

to find it. Then I come down here, with Babs, and we will haf so nice a

little government and rule this world. No more of the drugs then will be

needed, Kent. When you die, let the secret die with you."

Again Polter's voice became ingratiating, even more so than before. "We

will be friends, Kent. Our little Babs will lof me; why should she not?

You will tell her--advise her--and we will all three be very happy."

Dr. Kent said abruptly, "Then leave her with me now. That was her

request, a moment ago. If you expect to treat her kindly, then why

not--"

"I do! I do! But not now. I cannot spare her now. I am very busy, but I

must take her with me."

Babs had been silent, clinging to the bars of our cage. She called;

"Why? I ask you to put this cage down."

"Not now, little bird."

"Let me be with my father."

It struck a pang through me. Babs was scheming but not the way Polter

thought. She wanted the cage put on the floor, herself out, and a chance

for me to escape. I had not yet told her of my miserable stupidity in

losing the vial.

Polter was repeating, "No, little bird. Presently; not now. I will take

you with me on my last trip out. I want to talk with you in normal size

when I haf time."

Our room swooped as he stood up. "You think over what I haf said, Kent.

You get ready now to make the fresh drugs I will need to bring down all

my men from the outer world. They will all be glad to come, or, if

not--well, we can easily kill those who refuse. You make the drugs. I

need plenty. Will you?"

"Yes."

"That iss good. I come back soon and gif you the catalyst for that last

reaction. Will you be ready?"

"Yes."

The blur outside our bars swung with a dizzying whirl as Polter turned

and left the room, locking its door after him with a reverberating

clank.

* * * * *

Left alone in his laboratory, Dr. Kent began his preparations for

making a fresh supply of the drugs. This room, with two smaller ones

adjoining, was at once his workshop and his prison. He stood at his

shelves, selecting the basic chemicals. He could not complete the final

compounds. The catalyst which was necessary for the final reaction would

be brought to him by Polter.

How long he worked there with his thoughts in a whirl at seeing Babs, he

did not know. His movements were automatic; he had done all this so many

times before. His mind was confused, and he was trembling from head to

foot--an old, queerly, unnaturally old man now--unnerved. His fingers

could hardly hold the test tubes.

His thoughts were flying. Babs was here, come down from the world above.

It was disaster--the thing he had feared all these years.

He suddenly heard a voice.

"Father!"

And again: "Father!" A tiny voice, down by his shoe tops. Two small

figures were there on the floor beside him. They were both panting,

winded by running. They were enlarging.

It was Alan and Glora, who had followed Polter from the boat, then

diminished again and had come running through the tiny crack under the

metal door of the laboratory.

They grew to a foot in size, down by Dr. Kent's legs. He was too

unnerved to stand; he sat in a chair while Alan swiftly told him what

had happened. Babs was in the golden cage. Dr. Kent knew that; but none

of them knew what had happened to me.

"We must make you small, Father. We have the drugs, here with us."

"Yes! How much have you? Show me. Oh, my boy, that you are here--and

Babs--"

"Don't you worry. We'll get away from him."

Glora and Alan had almost reached Dr. Kent's size before their excited

fingers could get out the vials. They took some of the diminishing drug

to check their growth. Alan handed his father a black vial.

"Yes, lad--"

"No! Wait, that's the wrong drug. This other--"

Dr. Kent had opened the vial. His trembling hand spilled some of the

pellets, but none of them noticed it.

"Father, this one." Alan held an opalescent vial. "Take this one."

Glora said abruptly, "Listen! Is that someone coming?"

They thought they heard approaching footsteps. A moment passed but no

one came into the room.

"Hurry," urged Glora. "That was nothing. We're waiting too long."

"My boy--Alan, after all these years--"

As they were about to take the diminishing drug a very queer sound came

from across the room. A scuttling, scratching, and the drone of wings.

"God, Father--look!"

Over by the wall, a giant fly was running across the floor. The fly had

eaten some of the sweetish powder.

The enlarging drug was loose!

A few drops of water lay mingled with the drug on the floor. And from

the water nameless hideous things were rising!

Beyond the Vanishing Point · 第 8 / 12 章