H.

* * * * *

Naturally, I didn't understand Vic's jargon about frequencies and

light-rays, for I thought more about football than physics in college,

but two things were clear to me. One was that Vic had plunged into some

sort of wild experiment, and the other was that Hope had followed him.

The rest didn't matter very much.

"Perrin! Mr. Butler and Miss Hope are safe. Everything is explained in

this note. You and Mrs. Perrin are to leave me here, and not disturb

anything. Do nothing at all for at least a week. If we aren't all back

here before that time ... take any action you see fit. Understand?"

"No-no, sir. Where--"

"You understand the orders, anyway. That's all that's necessary. Close

the door--and keep it closed at least a week!" I glared at him, and

Perrin closed the door.

The apparatus Vic had mentioned was my first thought. It consisted

primarily of four tall, slim posts, set in the form of a square, about a

yard apart, and supported by heavy copper brackets mounted on a thick

base of insulating material, and each post bore at its top, like a stalk

with a single drooping flower, a deep, highly polished reflector,

pointing inward and downward. The whole effect was not unlike the

skeleton of a miniature skyscraper.

I strode between two of the high, slim black pillars and glanced upward.

All four of the reflectors seemed pointed directly at my face, and I

could see that each held, not the bulb I had expected, but a crudely

shaped blob of fused quartz.

* * * * *

There was nothing to be gained by examining the peculiar machine, and

therefore the one quick glance sufficed. If Vic and Hope had gone this

route, I was anxious to follow. I glanced down at the papers in my

hand, and slowly turned the first dial on the little instrument board,

narrowly watching the hand of the meter beside it, as Vic had

instructed.

The hand moved slowly, like the hand of an oil-gauge in which the

pressure is gradually built up. Twenty-one ... twenty-five ...

twenty-six ... _twenty-seven_.

I waited a moment, conscious only of the faint hum of a generator at the

other end of the room, and the quivering hand of the meter. I turned the

dial back an imperceptible degree, and the hand steadied down exactly

upon the numerals "2700." Then I touched the next dial.

This second dial was no more than a thin disk of hard rubber or

bakelite, with a red scratch-mark on one side. On the panel itself, far

to the right of the dial's zero point, was the red scratch-mark that

matched it. When the two coincided--well, something happened.

I was conscious of a faint glow from above as I moved the dial slowly,

so that its red mark approached the stationary one upon the panel. I

glanced up swiftly.

* * * * *

Each of the little blobs of quartz was glowing; each with a light of

different color. One was a rich amber, one a pale green, one a vivid,

electric blue, and one was fiery red. The intensity of the light

increased steadily as I moved the dial.

I could not only see the light; I could feel it. It beat upon my body;

throbbed all around me. I had a feeling that the mingling rays of light

conflicted with each other.

It seemed to me for a moment that I was growing as light as air; that my

feet were drifting off the floor, and then, as the red line of the dial

came closer to the indicated point, the feeling left, and I suddenly

seemed very heavy. I could hardly support my own weight; my legs were

trembling with the burden; sweat broke out over my whole body; the rays

of light beat down upon me fiercely, overpoweringly....

Desperately, I quickly turned the dial until the two red marks

coincided. A great weight, soft and enveloping, seemed to drop upon me.

The senses of sight and hearing and feeling all left me. I could only

think--and my thoughts were horrible.

Then, suddenly, there was a terrific crash of sound, and my senses

returned.

I looked around. It seemed that an instant before I had been standing

there in Vic's laboratory, slowly turning the second of the two dials,

while the four lights beat down upon my body. And now ... and now I was

standing in the open, on another world. A nightmare world that words

seem inadequate to describe.

* * * * *

The sky was an angry, sulphurous green, pressing low upon a country

utterly flat and nearly barren. The only sign of vegetation I could

perceive were strange growths that remotely resembled trees--inverted

trees, with wide-spreading branches hungrily nursing the black and

barren soil, and gnarled, brief roots reaching out tortured arms toward

the forbidding sky.

To my left, and some distance away, a vast number of blunt and ugly

towers rose against the sinister skyline, but no form of animal life

seemed in evidence. Wonderingly, my head whirling, whether from my

strange experience or from the shock of finding myself in what was

obviously another world, I do not know, I turned toward the city. And as

I took my first step, there materialized suddenly out of the thin and

ill-smelling air, the figures of perhaps a dozen monstrous creatures.

They were, in effect, men. That is, they had a head, a torso, two arms

and two legs apiece. But they were not human. Those huge round eyes,

unblinking and browless, were not human, nor were their slitted, sunken

mouths. They were not human beings; they were images of despair.

Their thin legs seemed to buckle at the knees, their arms drooped from

their shoulders, their mouths sagged at the corners, even their huge

ears hung down like a hound's. Their round, dark eyes, deeply recessed,

were caverns of despair.

* * * * *

They were clothed in some coarse, black stuff that bristled as though

loosely woven of stiff hair, and yet which was not a true fabric, for it

seemed to move within itself, and scintillate, as though composed of

billions of restless motes. And as the strange creatures closed in

quickly, I saw that theirs was not solid flesh, but, like the clothing

that partially covered them, an attenuated substance that was not quite

real.

Have you ever sat close to the screen in a motion picture theatre, so

that the graininess of the moving film was visible? These creatures were

like such shadows, seen in three dimensions.

I retreated two or three swift steps, jerking the revolver from my

pocket.

"Back!" I warned, hoping they would understand the tone of voice if not

the words. "Back--or I'll pot a couple of you!"

They glanced at each other, swiftly, almost as though they understood.

It seemed to me that their mouths lifted; that they almost smiled. Then

they rushed at me.

I had only one box of cartridges, besides those in the cylinder of my

gun. I didn't know what might be in store for me, and I took no chances.

My first shot sent one of the creatures spinning to the ground. Two more

were almost upon me before I could level the weapon and pull the trigger

again. I got them both.

The rest of that unholy crew were grinning, and their eyes were shining

with anticipation. They closed in upon me eagerly, each apparently doing

everything in his power to invite my attention. It was bewildering, and

I watched them warily, suspecting a trick. There were only three more

cartridges left in my gun, and I did not dare replace the fired shells

for fear they would rush me when the action was open and the gun

momentarily useless.

* * * * *

I was just about to risk one more cartridge when another figure

materialized in the ranks of the enemy; a taller, commanding figure,

with a shining jewel, perhaps a mark of authority, dangling from his

corded brown throat.

The others fell back instantly, and the newcomer approached me swiftly,

holding out his hands as though in supplication.

So I was to receive a cordial welcome after all! I breathed a sigh of

relief, and pocketed the weapon--and instantly the dark eyes flashed

angrily. I held out both hands, to show that they were empty, trying to

express my willingness to be friends.

He hesitated, and then uttered a high-pitched sound that I presumed to

be a word of command. Before I could free the gun again, the creatures

had me, and while their flesh looked more unnatural and unreal than

ever, at close range, their long fingers gripped me like talons of

steel. The being which had uttered the command disappeared, and my

captors led me, struggling and protesting, toward the black, ugly

towers of the city.

Over the barren, rocky ground we hurried; past the wretched hovels on

the outskirts of the city, and through crooked, dismal streets, toward

the center of the city.

A great crowd of creatures similar to my captors hemmed us in. Before

us, they thinned into nothingness as we approached, only to swarm into

being in some other spot. It was terrifying; an unbelievable experience

that made me question my sanity. The only vestige of comfort left me was

the hope that they were taking me to Hope and Vic.

* * * * *

At the entrance of one of the huge misshapen black buildings, the

creature with the brilliant stone at his throat appeared as suddenly as

a light flashes up in the darkness. With him were two others, each

wearing a similar jewel of authority. They stood aside for us to enter,

and then followed us down a long corridor which was not lighted by any

device I could discern, and yet which was not dark.

A broad door swung open, and I was thrust through the doorway.

"Pete!" shouted a familiar voice, and I scrambled to my feet. There was

Vic, his red hair tousled, and his face gray with worry. Behind him, her

big blue eyes brimming, her lips quivering, was Hope.

"Vic! Well, here I am. And Hope, dear...."

My voice trailed off. These were not Vic and Hope before me; they were

unreal creatures, like the beings which had captured me. I could

recognize the face and the figure of the woman I loved and of her

brother; but they seemed to have no substance.

Hope suddenly put her arms about me. She was sobbing.

"Don't, Peter!" she whispered.

"Don't look at me like that. I know how you feel. You--you and Vic--you

aren't real to me, either! We're just shadows--lost souls...."

"Buck up, Hope!" Vic's voice was kindly, yet firm and gravely

commanding. "We're all right. Only--temporarily--we're Infra-Medians.

Sit down, Pete, and let's talk. It may be that there's no time to lose

in making some plans."

* * * * *

"First of all," I insisted, "tell me where we are; what's happened to

us. Do you know?"

"Where we are? Surely. Looking at it in one way, we're less than a mile

from my laboratory."

"But, Vic!" I protested. "Do you really mean that we're less than a mile

from your laboratory; from our own world? If we were, we could see it;

we'd bump into our own trees and houses and people; we'd be knocked down

by automobiles, and--"

"Two bodies cannot occupy the same space at the same time. Old law of

simple physics. Is that what you mean?" interrupted Vic.

"Why, yes."

"And a body; what's that?"

"A body? Why, matter, I suppose."

"And matter is what?"

"Anything that occupies space," I replied triumphantly. I had remembered

that much from my physics classes.

"True," smiled Vic. "But let's see. It is possible to have sound and

light in the same place, isn't it? We can even add other things: heat

and electricity, for example. Speaking of electricity, a tremendous

current of it adds nothing to the weight of the wire carrying it, and

nothing to its bulk, unless we have a heating overload. Current enough

to kill a thousand men, or to do the work of a million horses, weighs

nothing, is invisible, and actually does nothing until released in some

form or other, either by accident or design."

"True, but electricity isn't matter. Our old world is matter; I'm

matter, and you're matter. Why don't we bump into things?"

"Our old world is matter, true enough, but for the rest, you're wrong,

Pete, old son. You're _not_ matter, any more. You're something else. In

terms of our own being, you do not exist in your present form. This

world does not exist. And the reverse is just as true."

* * * * *