Lieutenant McGuire had tried to die. He and Professor Sykes had
welcomed death with open arms, and death had been thwarted by their
enemies who wanted them alive--wanted to draw their knowledge from
them as a vampire bat might seek to feast. And, when even death was
denied them, help had come.
The enemy ship had gone crashing to destruction where its melting
metal made hissing clouds of steam as it buried itself in the ocean.
And this craft that had saved them--Lieutenant McGuire had never been
on a submarine, but he knew it could be only that that held him now
and carried him somewhere at tremendous speed.
This was miracle enough! But to see, with eyes which could not be
deceiving him, a vision of men, human, white of face--men like
himself--bending and working over Sykes' unconscious body--that could
not be immediately grasped.
Their faces, unlike the bleached-blood horrors he had seen, were aglow
with the flush of health. They were tall, slenderly built, graceful in
their quick motions as they worked to revive the unconscious man. One
stopped, as he passed, to lay a cool hand on McGuire's forehead, and
the eyes that looked down seemed filled with the blessed quality of
kindness.
They were human--his own kind!--and McGuire was unable to take in at
first the full wonder of it.
Did the tall man speak? His lips did not move, yet McGuire heard the
words as in some inner ear.
"We were awaiting you, friend Mack Guire." The voice was musical,
thrilling, and yet the listening man could not have sworn that he
heard a voice at all. It was as if a thought were placed within his
mind by the one beside him.
The one who had paused hurried on to aid the others, and McGuire let
his gaze wander.
* * * * *
The porthole beside him showed dimly a pale green light; they were
submerged, and the hissing rush of water told him that they were
travelling fast. There was a door in the farther wall; beyond was a
room of gleaming lights that reflected from myriads of shining levers
and dials. A control room. A figure moved as McGuire watched, to press
on a lever where a red light was steadily increasing in brightness. He
consulted strange instruments before him, touched a metal button here
and there, then opened a switch, and the rippling hiss of waters
outside their craft softened to a gentler note.
The tall one was beside him again.
"Your friend will live," he told him in that wordless tongue, "and we
are almost arrived. The invisible arms of our anchorage have us now
and will draw us safely to rest."
The kindly tone was music in McGuire's ears, and he smiled in reply.
"Friends!" he thought. "We are among friends."
"You are most welcome," the other assured him, "and, yes, you are
truly among friends." But the lieutenant glanced upward in wonder, for
he knew that he had uttered no spoken word.
Their ship turned and changed its course beneath them, then came
finally to rest with a slight rocking motion as if cushioned on
powerful springs. Sykes was being assisted to his feet as the tall man
reached for McGuire's hand and helped him to rise.
The two men of Earth stood for a long minute while they stared
unbelievingly into each other's eyes. Their wonder and amazement found
no words for expression but must have been apparent to the one beside
them.
"You will understand," he told them. "Do not question this reality
even to yourselves. You are safe!... Come." And he led the way through
an opening doorway to a wet deck outside. Beyond this was a wharf of
carved stone, and the men followed where steps were inset to allow
them to ascend.
Again McGuire could not know if he heard a tumult of sound or sensed
it in some deeper way. The air about them was aglow with soft light,
and it echoed in his ears with music unmistakably real--beautiful
music!--exhilarating! But the clamor of welcoming voices, like the
words from their tall companion, came soundlessly to him.
* * * * *
There were people, throngs of them, waiting. Tall like the others,
garbed, like those horrible beings of a past that seemed distant and
remote, in loose garments of radiant colors. And everywhere were
welcoming smiles and warm and friendly glances.
McGuire let his dazed eyes roam around to find the sculptured walls of
a huge room like a tremendous cave. The soft glow of light was
everywhere, and it brought out the beauty of flowing lines and
delicate colors in statuary and bas-relief that adorned the walls.
Behind him the water made a dark pool, and from it projected the upper
works of their strange craft.
His eyes were hungry for these new sights, but he turned with Sykes to
follow their guide through the colorful crowd that parted to let them
through. They passed under a carved archway and found themselves in
another and greater room.
But was it a room? McGuire marveled at its tremendous size. His eyes
took in the smooth green of a grassy lawn, the flowers and plants, and
then they followed where the hand of Sykes was pointing. The
astronomer gripped McGuire's arm in a numbing clutch; his other hand
was raised above.
"The stars," he said. "The clouds are gone; it is night!"
And where he pointed was a vault of black velvet. Deep hues of blue
seemed blended with it, and far in its depths were the old familiar
star-groups of the skies. "Ah!" the scientist breathed, "the
beautiful, friendly stars!"
Their guide waited; then, "Come," he urged gently, and led them toward
a lake whose unruffled glassy surface mirrored the stars above. Beside
it a man was waiting to receive them.
McGuire had to force his eyes away from the unreal beauty of opal
walls like the fairy structures they had seen. There was color
everywhere that blended and fused to make glorious harmony that was
pure joy to the eyes.
* * * * *
The man who waited was young. He stood erect, his face like that of a
Grecian statue, and his robe was blazing with the flash of jewels.
Beside him was a girl, tall and slender, and sweetly serious of face.
Like the man, her garments were lovely with jeweled iridescence, and
now McGuire saw that the throng within the vast space was similarly
apparelled.
The tall man raised his hand.
"Welcome!" he said, and McGuire realized with a start that the words
were spoken aloud. "You are most welcome, my friends, among the people
of that world you call Venus."
Professor Sykes was still weak from his ordeal; he wavered perceptibly
where he stood, and the man before them them turned to give an order.
There were chairs that came like magic; bright robes covered them; and
the men were seated while the man and girl also took seats beside them
as those who prepare for an intimate talk with friends.
Lieutenant McGuire found his voice at last. "Who are you?" he asked in
wondering tones. "What does it mean? We were lost--and you saved us.
But you--you are not like the others." And he repeated, "What does it
mean?"
"No," said the other with a slight smile, "we truly are not like those
others. They are not men such as you and I. They are something less
than human: animals--vermin!--from whom God, in His wisdom, has seen
fit to withhold the virtues that raise men higher than the beasts."
His face hardened as he spoke and for a moment the eyes were stern,
but he smiled again as he continued.
"And we," he said, "you ask who we are. We are the people of Venus. I
am Djorn, ruler, in name, of all. 'In name' I say, for we rule here by
common reason; I am only selected to serve. And this is my sister,
Althora. The name, with us, means 'radiant light.'" He turned to
exchange smiles with the girl at his side. "We think her well named,"
he said.
"The others,"--he waved toward the throng that clustered about--"you
will learn to know in time."
* * * * *
Professor Sykes felt the need of introductions.
"This is Lieutenant--" he began, but the other interrupted with an
upraised hand.
"Mack Guire," he supplied; "and you are Professor Sykes.... Oh, we
know you!" he laughed; "we have been watching you since your arrival;
we have been waiting to help you."
The professor was open-mouthed.
"Your thoughts," explained the other, "are as a printed page. We have
been with you by mental contact at all times. We could hear, but, at
that distance, and--pardon me!--with your limited receptivity, we
could not communicate.
"Do not resent our intrusion," he added; "we listened only for our own
good, and we shall show you how to insulate your thoughts. We do not
pry."
Lieutenant McGuire waved all that aside. "You saved us from them," he
said; "that's the answer. But--what does it mean? Those others are in
control; they are attacking our Earth, the world where we lived. Why
do you permit--?"
Again the other's face was set in sterner lines.
"Yes," he said, and his voice was full of unspoken regret, "they do
rule this world; they _have_ attacked your Earth; they intend much
more, and I fear they must be successful. Listen. Your wonderment is
natural, and I shall explain.
"We are the people of Venus. Some centuries ago we ruled this world.
Now you find us a handful only, living like moles in this underworld."
"Underworld?" protested Professor Sykes. He pointed above to the
familiar constellations. "Where are the clouds?" he asked.
The girl, Althora, leaned forward now. "It will please my brother,"
she said in a soft voice, "that you thought it real. He has had
pleasure in creating that--a replica of the skies we used to know
before the coming of the clouds."
* * * * *
Professor Sykes was bewildered. "That sky--the stars--they are not
real?" he asked incredulously. "But the grass--the flowers--"
Her laugh rippled like music. "Oh, they are real," she told him, and
her brother gave added explanation.
"The lights," he said: "we supply the actinic rays that the clouds cut
off above. We have sunlight here, made by our own hands; that is why
we are as we are and not like the red ones with their bleached skins.
We had our lights everywhere through the world when we lived above,
but those red beasts are ignorant; they do not know how to operate
them; they do not know that they live in darkness even in the light."
"Then we are below ground?" asked the flyer. "You live here?"
"It is all we have now. At that time of which I tell, it was the red
ones who lived out of sight; they were a race of rodents in human
form. They lived in the subterranean caves with which this planet is
pierced. We could have exterminated them at any time, but, in our
ignorance, we permitted them to live, for we, of Venus--I use your
name for the planet--do not willingly take life."
"They have no such compunctions!" Professor Sykes' voice was harsh; he
was remembering the sacrifice to the hungry plants.
A flash as of pain crossed the sensitive features of the girl, and the
man beside her seemed speaking to her in soundless words.
"Your mind-picture was not pleasant," he told the scientist; then
continued:
"Remember, we were upon the world, and these others were within it.
There came a comet. Oh, our astronomers plotted its course; they told
us we were safe. But at the last some unknown influence diverted it;
its gaseous projection swept our world with flame. Only an instant;
but when it had passed there was left only death...."
* * * * *
He was lost in recollection for a time; the girl beside him reached
over to touch his hand.
"Those within--the red ones--escaped," he went on. "They poured forth
when they found that catastrophe had overwhelmed us. And we, the
handful that were left, were forced to take shelter here. We have
lived here since, waiting for the day when the Master of Destinies
shall give us freedom and a world in which to live."
"You speak," suggested the scientist, "as if this had happened to you.
Surely you refer to your ancestors; you are the descendants of those
who were saved."
"We are the people," said the other. "We lived then; we live now; we
shall live for a future of endless years.
"Have you not searched for the means to control the life
principle--you people of Earth?" he asked. "We have it here. You
see"--and he waved a hand toward the standing throng--"we are young to
your eyes and the others who greeted you were the same."
McGuire and the scientist exchanged glances of corroboration.
"But your age," asked Sykes, "measured in years?"
"We hardly measure life in years."
Professor Sykes nodded slowly; his mind found difficulty in accepting
so astounding a fact. "But our language?" he queried. "How is it that
you can speak our tongue?"
The tall man smiled and leaned forward to place a hand on a knee of
each of the men beside him. "Why not," he asked, "when there doubtless
is relationship between us.
"You called the continent Atlantis. Perhaps its very existence is but
a fable now: it has been many centuries since we have had instruments
to record thought force from Earth, and we have lost touch. But, my
friends, even then we of Venus had conquered space, and it was we who
visited Atlantis to find a race more nearly like ourselves than were
the barbarians who held the other parts of Earth.
"I was there, but I returned. There were some who stayed and they were
lost with the others in the terrible cataclysm that sank a whole
continent beneath the waters. But some, we have believed, escaped."
"Why have you not been back?" the flyer asked. "You could have helped
us so much."
"It was then that our own destruction came upon us. The same comet,
perhaps, may have caused a change of stresses in your Earth and sunk
the lost Atlantis. Ah! That was a beautiful land, but we have never
seen it since. We have been--here.
"But you will understand, now," he added, "that, with our insight into
your minds, we have little difficulty in mastering your language."
This talk of science and incredible history left Lieutenant McGuire
cold. His mind could not wander long from its greatest concern.
"But the earth!" he exclaimed. "What about the earth? This attack!
Those devils mean real mischief!"
"More than you know; more than you can realize, friend Mack Guire!"
"Why?" demanded the flyer. "Why?"
"Have your countries not reached out for other countries when land was
needed?" asked the man, Djorn. "Land--land! Space in which to
breed--that is the reason for the invasion.
"This world has no such continents as yours. Here the globe is covered
by the oceans; we have perhaps one hundredth of the land areas of your
Earth And the red ones breed like flies. Life means nothing to them;
they die like flies, too. But they need more room; they intend to find
it on your world."
* * * * *
"A strange race," mused Professor Sykes. "They puzzled me. But--'less
than human,' I think you said. Then how about their ships? How could
they invent them?"
"Ours--all ours! They found a world ready and waiting for them.
Through the centuries they have learned to master some few of our
inventions. The ships!--the ethereal vibrations! Oh, they have been
cleverer than we dreamed possible."
"Well, how can we stop them?" demanded McGuire. "We must. You have the
submarines--"
"One only," the other interrupted. "We saved that, and we brought some
machinery. We have made this place habitable; we have not been idle.
But there are limitations."
"But your ray that you projected--it brought down their ship!"
"We were protecting you, and we protect ourselves; that is enough.
There is One will deliver us in His own good time; we may not go forth
and slaughter."
There was a note of resignation and patience in the voice that filled
McGuire with hopeless forebodings. Plainly this was not an aggressive
race. They had evolved beyond the stage of wanton slaughter, and, even
now, they waited patiently for the day when some greater force should
come to their aid.
The man beside them spoke quickly. "One moment--you will pardon
me--someone is calling--" He listened intently to some soundless call,
and he sent a silent message in reply.
"I have instructed them," he said. "Come and you shall see how
impregnable is our position. The red ones have resented our
destruction of their ship."
The face of the girl, Althora, was perturbed. "More killings?" she
asked.
"Only as they force themselves to their own death," her brother told
her. "Be not disturbed."
* * * * *
The throng in the vast space drew apart as the figure of their leader
strode quickly through with the two men following close. There were
many rooms and passages; the men had glimpses of living quarters, of
places where machinery made soft whirring sounds; more sights than
their eyes could see or their minds comprehend. They came at last to
an open chamber.
The men looked up to see above them a tremendous inverted-cone, and
there was the gold of cloudland glowing through an opening at the top.
It was the inside of a volcano where they stood, and McGuire
remembered the island and its volcanic peak where the ship had swerved
aside. He felt that he knew now where they were.
Above them, a flash of light marked the passage of a ship over the
crater's mouth, and he realized that the ships of the reds were not
avoiding the island now. Did it mean an attack? And how could these
new friends meet it?
Before them on the level volcanic floor were great machines that came
suddenly to life, and their roar rose to a thunder of violence, while,
in the center, a cluster of electric sparks like whirling stars formed
a cloud of blue fire. It grew, and its hissing, crackling length
reached upward to a fine-drawn point that touched the opening above.
"Follow!" commanded their leader and went rapidly before them where a
passage wound and twisted to bring them at last to the light of day.
The flame of the golden clouds was above them in the midday sky, and
beneath it were scores of ships that swept in formations through the
air.
"Attacking?" asked the lieutenant with ill-concealed excitement.
"I fear so. They tried to gas us some centuries ago; it may be they
have forgotten what we taught them then."
* * * * *
One squadron came downward and swept with inconceivable speed over a
portion of the island that stretched below. The men were a short
distance up on the mountain's side, and the scene that lay before them
was crystal clear. There were billowing clouds of gas that spread over
the land where the ships had passed. Other ships followed; they would
blanket the island in gas.
The man beside them gave a sigh of regret. "They have struck the first
blow," he said. He stood silent with half-closed eyes; then: "I have
ordered resistance." And there was genuine sorrow and regret in his
eyes as he looked toward the mountain top.
McGuire's eyes followed the other's gaze to find nothing at first save
the volcanic peak in hard outline upon the background of gold; then
only a shimmer as of heat about the lofty cone. The air above him
quivered, formed to ripples that spread in great circles where the
enemy ships were flashing away.
Swifter than swift aircraft, with a speed that shattered space, they
reached out and touched--and the ships, at that touch, fell helplessly
down from the heights. They turned awkwardly as they fell or dropped
like huge pointed projectiles. And the waters below took them silently
and buried in their depths all trace of what an instant sooner had
been an argosy of the air.
The ripples ceased, again the air was clear and untroubled, but
beneath the golden clouds was no single sign of life.
* * * * *
The flyer's breathless suspense ended in an explosive gasp. "What a
washout!" he exclaimed, and again he thought only of this as a weapon
to be used for his own ends. "Can we use that on their fleets?" he
asked. "Why, man--they will never conquer the earth; they will never
even make a start."
The tall figure of Djorn turned and looked at him. "The lust to kill!"
he said sadly. "You still have it--though you are fighting for your
own, which is some excuse.
"No, this will not destroy their fleets, for their fleets will not
come here to be destroyed. It will be many centuries before ever again
the aircraft of the reds dare venture near."
"We will build another one and take it where they are--" The voice of
the fighting man was vibrant with sudden hope.
"We were two hundred years building and perfecting this," the other
told him. "Can you wait that long?"
And Lieutenant McGuire, as he followed dejectedly behind the leader,
heard nothing of Professor Sykes' eager questions as to how this
miracle was done.
"Can you wait that long?" this man, Djorn, had asked. And the flyer
saw plainly the answer that spelled death and destruction to the
world.