As for Van Emmon, his experience will have to be classed with Smith's.
That is to say, he soon came to feel that his agent was not what is
commonly called human. It was all too different. However, he found
himself enjoying a field of view which was a decided improvement upon
Smith's. Instead of a range which began and ended just above the
horizon, his agent possessed the power of looking almost straight ahead.
This told the geologist that his unsuspecting Sanusian was located in an
aircraft much like the other. The same tremendous noise of the engine,
the same inexplicable wing action, together with the same total lack of
the usual indications of human occupancy, all argued that the two men
had hit upon the same type of agent. In Van Emmon's case, however, he
could occasionally glimpse two loose parts of the machine, flapping and
swaying oddly from time to time within the range of the observer, and at
the front. Nothing was done about it. Van Emmon came to the same
conclusion as Smith; the operator was looking into something like a
periscope. Perhaps he himself did not do the driving.
From what the geologist could see of the country below, it was quite
certainly cultivated. In no other way could the even rows and uniform
growth be explained; even though Van Emmon could not say whether the
vegetation were tree, shrub, or plant, it was certainly the work of man
--or something mightily like man.
Shortly he experienced an abrupt downward dive, such as upset his senses
somewhat. When he recovered, he had time for only the swiftest glance at
what, he thought rather vaguely, was a great green-clad mountain. Then
his agent brought the craft to one of those nerve-racking stops; once
more came a swimming of the brain, and then the geologist saw something
that challenged his understanding.
The craft had landed on the rim of a deep pit, or what would have been
called a pit if it had not been so extraordinary. Mainly the strangeness
was a matter of color; the slope was of a brilliant orange, and
seemingly covered with frost, for it sparkled so brightly in the sun as
to actually hurt the eyes. In fact, the geologist's first thought was "A
glacier," although he could not conceive of ice or snow of that tint.
Running down the sides of the pit were a number of dark-brown streaks,
about a yard wide; Van Emmon could make them out, more or less clearly,
on the other side of the pit as well. From the irregular way in which
the walls were formed, he quickly decided that the pit was a natural
one. The streaks, he thought, might have been due to lava flow.
His agent proceeded to drive straight over the rim and down the slope
into the pit. His engine was quite stopped; like Smith, the geologist
wondered just how the craft's wheels were operated. Next he was holding
his breath as the machine reached so steep a point in the slope that,
most surely, no brakes could hold it. Simultaneously he heard the hiss
and whine which seemed to indicate the suction device.
"It was a whole lot like going down into a placer mine," the geologist
afterward said; and in view of what next met his eyes, he was justified
in his guess.
Down crept the machine until it was "standing on its nose." The sun was
shining almost straight down into the slope, and Van Emmon forgot his
uneasiness about the craft in his interest in what he saw.
The bottom of the pit was perhaps twenty feet in diameter, and roughly
hemispherical. Standing up from its bottom were half a dozen slim
formations, like idealized stalagmites; they were made of some
semitransparent rock, apparently, the tint being a reddish yellow.
Finally, perched on the top of each of these was a stone; and
surrounding these six "landmarks," as Van Emmon called them, was the
most prodigious display of wealth imaginable.
For the whole queer place was simply sprinkled with gold. Gold--gold
everywhere; large nuggets of it, as big as one's fist! Not embedded in
rock, not scattered through sand, but lying LOOSE upon the surface of
that unbelievable orange snow! It was overwhelming.
The mysterious Sanusian lost no time. Operating some unseen machinery,
he caused three shovel-like devices to project from the front of his
machine; and these instantly proceeded, so swiftly that Van Emmon could
not possibly watch their action, to pick up nuggets and stow them away
out of sight in what must have been compartments in the hull. All this
was done without any sound beyond the occasional thud of a nugget
dropped in the scramble.
Suddenly the Sanusian wheeled his machine about and started hurriedly up
the slope. Van Emmon judged that the chap had been frightened by
something, for he took flight as soon as he reached the top of the pit.
And--he left half a million in gold behind him!
This new flight had not lasted two minutes before the geologist began to
note other objects in the air. There were birds, so distant that he
could not identify them; one came near enough, however, for him to
conclude that it was a hawk. But he did not hold to this conclusion very
long.
The thing that changed his mind was another aircraft. It approached from
behind, making even more noise than the other, and proceeded to draw
abreast of it. From time to time Van Emmon's agent turned his mysterious
periscope so as to take it all in, and the geologist was able to watch
his fill. Whereupon he became converted to a new idea:
The birds that Smith and he had seen had not been birds at all, but
aircraft built in imitation of them.
For this new arrival had been made in almost perfect imitation of a bee!
It was very close to an exact reproduction. For one exception, it did
not have the hairy appearance so characteristic of bees; the body and
"legs" were smooth, and shiny. (Later, Van Emmon saw machines which went
so far as even to imitate the hairs.) Also, instead of trying to
duplicate the two compound eyes which are found, one on each side of a
bee's head, a perfectly round representation of a single eye was built,
like a conning tower, toward the front of the bow. Presumably, the
observer sat or stood within this "head."
But otherwise it was wonderfully like a drone bee. Van Emmon was
strongly reminded of what he had once viewed under a powerful lens. The
fragile semitransparent wings, the misshapen legs, and even the jointed
body with its scale-like segments, all were carefully duplicated on a
large scale. Imagine a bee thirty feet long!
At first the geologist was puzzled to find that it carried a pair of
many-jointed antennae. He could not see how any intelligent being would
make use of them; they were continually waving about, much as bees wave
theirs. Evidently these were the loose objects he had already noted.
"Now," he wondered, "why in thunder did the builders go to so much
trouble for the sake of mere realism?"
Then he saw that the antennae served a very real purpose. There was no
doubt about it; they were wireless antennae!
For presently the newcomer, who so far had not shown himself at any
point on his machine, sent out a message which was read as quickly as it
was received by Van Emmon's agent, and as unconsciously translated:
"Number Eight Hundred Four, you are wanted on Plot Seventeen."
Whereupon Van Emmon's unknown assistant replied at once:
"Very well, Superior."
It was done by means of an extremely faint humming device, reminding the
geologist of certain wireless apparata he had heard. Not a word was
actually spoken by either Sanusian.
Van Emmon kept a close watch upon the conning tower on the other
machine. The sun was shining upon it in such a fashion that its gleam
made inspection very difficult. Once he fancied that he could make out a
short, compact figure within the "eye"; but he could not be sure. The
glass, or whatever it was, reflected everything within range.
Was the airman a quadruped? Did he sit or stand upright, like a man? Or
did he use all four limbs, animal-fashion? Van Emmon had to admit that
he could not tell; no wonder he didn't guess the truth.
Shortly after receiving the summons, the geologist's agent changed his
direction slightly; and within ten minutes the machine was passing over
a large grain field. On the far edge was a row of trees, and it was
toward this that the Sanusian proceeded to volplane, presently coming to
another nausea-producing stop. Once more Van Emmon was temporarily
helpless.
When he could look again, he saw that the machine had landed upon a
steep slope, this time with its nose pointing upward. Far above was what
looked like a cave, with a growth of some queer, black grass on its
upper rim. The craft commenced to move upward, over a smooth, dark tan
surface.
In half a minute the machine had reached the top of the slope, and the
geologist looked eagerly for what might lie within the cave. He was
disappointed; it was not a cave at all. Instead, another brown slope, or
rather a bulging precipice, occupied this depression.
Van Emmon looked closer. At the bottom of this bulge was a queer fringe
of the same kind of grass that showed on top of it. Van Emmon looked
from one to the other, and all of a sudden the thing dawned upon him.
This stupendous affair was no mountainside; it was neither more nor less
than the head of a colossal statue! A mammoth edition of the Goddess of
Liberty; and the aircraft had presumed to alight upon its cheek!
The machine clung there, motionless, for some time, quite as though the
airman knew that Van Emmon would like to look a long while. He gazed
from side to side as far as he could see, making out a small section of
the nose, also the huge curves of a dust-covered ear. It was wonderfully
life-like.
Next second came the earthquake. The whole statue rocked and swayed; Van
Emmon looked to see the machine thrown off. From the base of the
monument came a single terrific sound, a veritable roar, as though the
thing was being wrenched from the heart of the earth. From somewhere on
top came a spurt of water that splashed just beside the craft.
Then came the most terrible thing. Without the slightest warning the
statue's great eye opened! Opened wide, revealing a prodigious pupil
which simply blazed with wrath!
The statue was alive!
Next second the Sanusian shot into the air. A moment and Van Emmon was
able to look again, and as it happened, the craft was now circling the
amazing thing it had just quit, so that the geologist could truthfully
say that he was dead sure of what he saw.
He was justified in wanting to be absolutely sure. Resting on the solid
earth was a human head, about fifty yards wide and proportionately as
tall. It was alive; but IT WAS ONLY THE HEAD, NOTHING MORE.
V