"Yes. And also the television screen and the camera. It'll amplify
the wave patterns and project them ... and in your case I'm convinced
they'll all be...."
"Don't say it," he said hastily. "I don't need to read your brain waves
to know what you're thinking."
"Nor do I need this machine to know what you are usually thinking of,"
she finished. "Now lie down and relax. I'm going to give you the lowest
voltage first. I still don't think you are right in saying there's no
real danger."
He lay back and closed his eyes.
Swiftly she went about, making adjustments, turning rheostats, watching
indications on meters with narrowed eyes. Then, with a final check over
the entire apparatus, she switched on the machine to lowest voltage.
Slowly the tubes warmed up, then there came a slight crackling from
the loudspeaker, developing swiftly into a hum that rose and fell
in a musical pattern. The green bands on the oscilloscope danced in
time to the hum from the loudspeaker, and on the television screen
an image began to form. By stages it grew, at first seeming to be a
wavering white pillar, then a ghostly form, like a sheeted figure in a
graveyard, then suddenly it began to clarify. A face emerged into view,
and Mary almost gasped as she recognized it as her own. But the rest of
the picture remained shadowy and indistinct.
"More power," murmured Mary. She turned the rheostat up a trifle
further, and the hum from the loudspeaker became even louder, more
vibrant. On the screen the rest of the dancing figure coalesced and
suddenly Mary jumped back from the screen. She turned toward Jensen
where he lay, relaxing with a slight smile on his face, and uttered an
exclamation.
"Don, you stop that!" She reached for the electrode to snatch it
indignantly from his head. As she did so her fingers touched the
metal. A bright flash came from the silver disk, raced up her arm, and
her muscles tightened in shock. Her voice rose suddenly in a scream,
and then, as Jensen jerked violently under her hands, everything
went black. She slumped beside him, unconscious, and the hum from
the loudspeaker took on a higher, treble note that filled the whole
laboratory with its vibrant pulsations.
* * * * *
High over the valley came a keening note, drifting down the wind with a
strange, heterodyning effect. It rose and fell with a definite cadence,
as though it were a message.
Out of the murky darkness at the far end came a stirring; a gigantic
groping, as of a monstrous something responding sluggishly to the
call. Then, more swiftly, getting its bearings, the shadowed something
began moving forward, gaining purpose, gaining massiveness, gaining
speed. There was almost an anxious eagerness in its progress, as though
it were an appetite sensing a free meal. At the same time there was
something obscene in its haste, as though it anticipated more than
mere food.
High on the south wall of the valley, atop the ramparts of the City,
stood a figure in a red cloak, staring out over the valley's dark
depths. He was tall, saturnine, and his face, though darkly handsome,
was somehow malevolent, menacing, revolting. He was leering now, in
ghastly anticipation of something that was to occur at the base of the
cliffs at his feet. Behind him the keening of the Call still emanated
from the lips of the gory idol enthroned in the Temple. He shook a fist
at the darkness below.
"Feel now the dire might of the anger of Bra Naan!" he mouthed. "Die,
Dahnjen Saan, despoiler of the Temple!" He turned to an accolyte.
"Control the Beast, when he comes. Let him kill, but save the
Priestess. Her punishment shall be mine alone." He licked his lips.
"Yes, Oh High One. The Beast shall move only as the Hypno-ray
dictates." The accolyte hurried off into the Temple and in a moment,
lancing down from above, came the beam of the ray, searching into the
depths of the valley.
* * * * *
The Priestess Marima Saan no longer struggled in Dahnjen Saan's
grasp, as he carried her amid the gloomy ramparts of the weird stone
formations on the valley floor. Instead she wept, and clung to him.
"Why do you weep?" he asked harshly.
"Because now we both will die," she said. "Oh Dahnjen, why did you do
it?"
"Because I do not propose that Bra Naan will remain forever as a
barrier to our love," he said. "Beyond the Valley his power does not
exist. We are going there to live our lives as they should be lived."
"Alone, in the Wild Land?"
He laughed. "It's not so wild as you think. I've been there. And
nothing so fearsome exists that we cannot overcome it. Nor will anyone
ever find us. The natives are friendly--I know them well."
Once more she began to weep. "But we'll never get there. We cannot
escape from the Valley. It is guarded at the exit by the Beast. None
have ever escaped him."
Dahnjen patted the rifle strapped to his back. "Think you that the
Priests alone know anything of science?" he asked.