THE CORYBANTIA OF THE SUN
I have several times mentioned Edmund's half-formed impression that there
was some very remarkable ceremony connected with the cyclical apparition
of the sun before the eyes of its worshipers. He had said, you may
recall, that it seemed probable that the religious rites on these rare
occasions bore some resemblance to the _bacchanalia_, or _dionysia_, of
ancient Greece. How he had derived that idea I do not know, but it proved
to have been but too well founded---only he had not guessed the full
truth. The followers of Dionysus made themselves drunken with the wine of
their god and then indulged in the wildest excesses. Here, as we were now
to learn, the worshipers of the sun were seized with another kind of
madness, leading to scenes that I believe, and hope, have never had their
parallel upon the earth.
With our hearts sore for Juba, we had completed our preparations for
departure within six hours after his tragic death. Ala had been informed
of the tragedy, and had visited the car and looked upon the dead form,
which I thought greatly affected her. Edmund held little communication
with her, but it was evidently with her cooperation that he was able to
procure a kind of coffin, in which we placed Juba's body. I do not know
whether Edmund informed her of his purpose to quit the planet, but she
must have known that we were going to convey our friend somewhere for
interment.
We were actually on the point of casting loose the car, Ala and a crowd
of attendants watching our movements, when there came the second great
sound of united voices which we had heard in this speechless world. It
rose like a sudden wail from the whole city. There was a rushing to and
fro, Ala's face grew as pale as death, and her attendants fell upon their
knees and began to lift their hands heavenward, with an expression of
terror and wild appeal.
At the same time we noticed a sudden brightening about us, and Edmund
stepping out on the platform, immediately beckoned, with the first signs
of uncontrollable excitement that I had ever seen him display. I was
instantly at his side, and a single glance told the story.
High in the heavens, the sun had burst forth in all its marvelous
splendor!
A vast rift was open in the cloud dome, through which the gigantic god of
day poured down his rays with a fierceness that was inconceivable. The
heat was like the blast of a furnace, and I felt my head beginning to
swim.
"Quick!" cried Edmund, grasping my sleeve and pulling me into the car.
"These rays are fatal! My God, what a sight!"
As by magic the atmosphere had become crowded with air ships, and throngs
of thousands were pouring from them upon the great platform and the other
stages, as well as upon the surrounding towers. Every available space was
filling up with people hastening from below. As fast as they arrived they
threw themselves into the most extraordinary postures of adoration,
lifting hands and eyes to the sun. I remember thinking, in a flash, that
the intense glare of light must burn to the very sockets of their
eyes--but they did not flinch. It was evident, however, that those who
looked directly in the sun's face were blinded.
I looked round for Ala, and noticed with a thrill that her beautiful eyes
were wide open and glancing with an expression that I cannot describe,
over her kneeling people. Beside her was the towering form of the great
priest, who was staring straight at the sun--and yet, although his eyes
were open, it was evident that they were not rendered altogether
sightless even by that awful light. They burned like coals. He was making
strange gestures with his long arms, and in unison with his every
movement a low, heart-thrilling sound came from the throats of the
multitude.
Edmund, at my shoulder, muttered under his breath:
"Shall I try to save her from this?--But to what good?"
For a moment he seemed to hesitate, and I thought that he was about to
rush out upon the platform and seize Ala in order to rescue her from some
danger that he foresaw; when, all at once, the multitude rose to its
feet, staggering, and began to rush to and fro, colliding with one
another, falling, rising again, grappling, struggling, uttering terrible
cries--and then I saw the flash of knives.
"Good heavens!" shouted Edmund. "It is the ultraviolet rays! They have
gone mad!"
In the meantime the gigantic high priest whirled upon his heel, swinging
his arms abroad and uttering a kind of chant which was audible above the
dreadful clamor of the rabid multitude. Though he had no weapon, he
seemed the inspirer of this Aceldama, and around him its fury raged.
Presently he drew close to Ala, who still stood motionless, as if
petrified by the awful scene. I felt Edmund give a violent start, and
before I comprehended his intention, he had dashed from the car, and was
forcing his way through the struggling throng toward the queen.
"Edmund!" I shouted. "For God's sake, come back!"
Jack started to follow him, but I held him back with all my strength.
"Let me go!" he yelled. "Edmund will be killed!"
"And you, too!" I answered. "Break open the locker and get the guns!"
Jack threw himself upon the door of the locker, and strove to wrench it
open. Meanwhile, half paralyzed with excitement, I remained standing at
the door. I saw Edmund hurl aside those who attacked him, and push on
toward his goal. But a minute later a knife reached him, and he fell.
"Quick, Jack, quick!" I shouted; "Edmund is down!"
He had not got the locker open, but he darted to my side, and together we
rushed out into the press. Shall I ever forget that moment! We were
pushed, hustled, struck, hurled to and fro; but we had only a few steps
to go, and we reached our leader where he lay. Seizing him, we succeeded
somehow in carrying him into the car. Our clothes were torn, our hands
and faces were bleeding, and there was blood on Jack's shoulder. Edmund
was alive. We placed him on a bench, and then the fascination of the
spectacle without again enchained us.
Suddenly my eyes fell upon Ingra, who had not previously made his
appearance. He was as insane as the others, and like many of them had a
knife in his hand. In a moment he pushed his way toward Ala, and my heart
rose in my throat, for I did not know what mad thought might be in his
mind. If I had had a weapon, I believe I should have shot him, but before
he had arrived within three yards of the queen there came an explosion of
flame--I do not know how else to describe it, for it was so sudden--and
the great platform was instantly wrapped in licking tongues of fire.
The wickerwork caught like tinder, and the gauzy screws threw off streams
of sparks like so many Fourth of July pinwheels. The gush of heat from
the conflagration was terrible, and I turned my eyes in horror from the
stricken multitude which seemed to have been shocked back into sanity by
the sudden universal danger only to find itself a helpless prey to the
flames.
"It's all over with them!" cried Jack.
His words awoke me to our own danger. We must get away instantly. Knowing
the proper button to touch to throw the mechanism into action, I pushed
it forcibly and pulled out a knob which I had often seen Edmund
manipulate in starting the car. It responded immediately, and in a second
we were afloat, and clear of the tower. Seeing that the direction which
the car was taking would remove us from the reach of the flames, and that
there was nothing ahead to obstruct its progress, and knowing that Edmund
often left it to run of itself when the speed was slow, and there was no
occasion to change its course, I now hurried with Jack to Edmund's side.
Henry all this time had been lying on a bench like one in a trance.
Jack and I stripped off Edmund's coat, and at once saw the nature of his
wound. A knife had penetrated his side, and there was considerable
effusion of blood, but I was surgeon enough to feel sure that the wound
was not mortal. He roused up as he felt us working over him, and opening
his eyes, said faintly:
"You will find bandages under the locker. What has happened? We are
moving."
"The tower is all in flames!" exclaimed Jack, before I could interrupt
him, for I should have preferred not to tell Edmund the real situation
just at that moment.
Jack's words roused him like an electric shock. He pushed us aside, and
struggled to his feet. Then he sprang to a knob, and brought the car to
rest.
We had been moving slowly, and had not gone more than a quarter of a mile
from the tower. The car had swung round so that the fire was not visible
from the open door, but now, as Edmund arrested its progress, it swayed
back again and the spectacle burst into view. The heat smote us in the
face even at this distance. In the few minutes since I had last seen the
tower the flames had made incredible progress. The whole of the immense
structure was blazing. Spires of flame leaped and swayed from its summit,
partitions were falling, platforms giving way, and hundreds of air ships
caught by the sheets of fire were crumpling and falling in swooping
curves like birds whose wings had been seared. I was thankful that we
could not see the unfortunates who were perishing in that furnace. It was
but too evident that not a soul on the tower could have escaped.
I glanced at Edmund's face. It was pale and set--the face of a man gazing
upon an awful tragedy with which he is absolutely powerless to interfere.
His breath came quick, but he did not utter a word. Then came the
reaction, and, staggering, he leaned on my shoulder, and I led him to the
bench from which he had risen. For a moment I thought he had fainted, but
when I put a flask to his lips he swallowed a mouthful and immediately
recovered sufficient strength to sit up, resting his head on his hand.
"Had we not better go on?" I asked.
"Ye-es," he replied, after a moment's hesitation. "We can do nothing.
They are all gone; the queen has perished with the rest! Pull out that
knob on the right, but gently, and then push this button. We must circle
round the outskirts until we see whether the fire will seize upon the
other towers and extend to the city below."
I followed his directions, and, as we started our circuit, the vast tower
suddenly swayed aside, and then, tumbling in upon itself, it went down in
a whirl of smoke and eddying sparks.
As far as we could see none of the other aerial structures had caught
fire. The entire absence of wind was no doubt the favorable circumstance
that saved them. But all the towers were swaying under the impulse
imparted to them by the excited multitudes that crowded their platforms.
Although the light of the conflagration faded as soon as the principal
tower fell, the others continued to shine brilliantly in the solar rays,
but suddenly, as we watched, the splendor failed, and the subdued
illumination characteristic of the endless daylight under the great dome
took its place. The rift in the clouds above had closed as unexpectedly
as it had recently opened, and the sun was no longer visible. It had been
in view less than an hour, but in that brief space what scenes had been
enacted!
Presently Edmund, shaking his head sadly, said:
"It is useless to stay longer. Even if the conflagration should spread we
could do nothing to help the unfortunates. They must depend upon
themselves."
He then gave me directions for changing our course to a direct line away
from the city, at the same time increasing the speed. In the meantime he
himself aided in binding up his wound.
"If there were the slightest chance that Ala could have escaped," he
said, after a few minutes, "I would remain here, and search for her, but
it is only too clear what her fate has been. She was really our only
friend, and now that she is gone, we must get away from the sight and
memory of these things as quickly as possible."
Seeing that his strength was gradually coming back to him, and secretly
rejoicing that he bore this terrible blow so stoically, I felt that we
might now converse about the catastrophe which we had witnessed.
"What do you think was the cause of the sudden outburst of fire?" I
asked.
"It could hardly have been the direct action of the sunlight," he
replied. "It must have resulted from some accidental concentration of the
solar rays upon an inflammable substance by a mirror."
"I recall seeing a large concave glass on the principal platform in which
they were fond of looking at their magnified images," I said.
"Yes, and no doubt that was the instrument chosen by fate to bring about
this terrible end. The power of the sunbeams is twice as great here as
upon the earth, and the heat in the focus of a mirror a couple of feet in
diameter would suffice to set fire to the flimsy materials which abounded
on the tower. Once started in such a place it ran like sparks in a train
of gunpowder."
"But the madness that seized the multitude before the catastrophe--what
did you mean by saying that it was the ultraviolet rays?"
"I used the term," Edmund replied slowly, "without attaching a very clear
meaning to it. It simply expressed the general thought that was in my
mind. It may be some other form of solar radiation to which we are not
accustomed on the earth, but which is specially effective here when the
sun is uncovered because of the greater nearness of Venus. This
atmosphere, notwithstanding its density, may well be diaphanous to the
ultraviolet rays, owing to some peculiarity in its composition which I
have not had time to study. At any rate, it is evident, from what we have
seen, that the rays of the unclouded sun almost instantly affect the
brain. I, myself, felt them as if a thousand needles had been thrust
through my skull; and I believe that they are responsible, rather than
the shock of the wound in my side, for my present weakness."
"And did you foresee the consequences of the uncovering of the sun?"
"Not altogether. I had been led to think that something extraordinary
must accompany the periodical appearances of the great orb, and if I
could have known that an apparition was at hand I might have made
preparations for it and we might have been able to save Ala. When I saw
what was going on, I tried to reach her, and you know the result."
"But is it not incredible that a people of so peaceable a disposition
should be seized with such murderous instincts when driven out of their
senses by the effect of the rays?"
"No, it does not seem so to me. You know the general tendency of sudden
madness, which usually produces a complete reversal of the ordinary
instincts of the demented persons, making them dangerous to their dearest
friends. But why talk longer of this? It is too painful--too
overwhelming. What can man do against the great forces of Nature? At this
moment I solemnly declare to you that I regret that I ever entered upon
this expedition."
While we had been talking, the car had receded to a great distance from
the city, and now all but the tops of a few of the airy pinnacles were
lost to our sight forever. But as we gazed, straining our sight for a
last look, we perceived a familiar flickering of prismatic lightning on
the horizon. We glanced at each other meaningly. It was the color speech
again. But, oh, what must be the burden of their communications now!
Suddenly, Edmund, whose eyes were fixed with intensity upon the scene,
remarked, half shuddering:
"It is the great Paean."
Seized with curiosity, I pressed the magic box to my ear, and faintly
there echoed in my brain a few disconnected strains of that solemn music.
But now, more than ever, it was insufferable to me, and I dropped the box
with a crash.
As Edmund recovered his strength he once more took charge of the car, and
in a little while he had risen to a great height in order to take
advantage of the easier going in the lighter atmosphere above. Thus we
ran on for several hours until we began to catch sight of the sea, which
was soon beneath us, while far ahead we saw the tumbling clouds marking
the location of the belt of tempests behind which we knew lay the range
of the crystal mountains. At length we issued from beneath the cloud
dome, and then we saw the sun again, and the storms whipping the waters,
whose waves occasionally flashed up at us through rifts in the streaming
clouds beneath. And at last the icy peaks began to glitter on the
horizon, and we knew that we were nearing the world of eternal night and
frost. It was with strange feelings that we once more beheld the crystal
mountains, for our minds were filled with the recollection of the scenes
that had occurred among them when we were helpless in the grasp of their
tempests. But now there was a certain exhilaration in the thought that
this time we could safely sail over their summits. As we passed over them
we looked eagerly for landmarks that might show where our former passage
had occurred, and as Edmund purposely dropped as close to their summits
as it was safe to go, I at last believed that I recognized the mighty
peak of rainbows that had so nearly wrecked us.
When we had left the mountains behind and entered into the region of
night, I asked Edmund how he would proceed in order to find the location
of the caverns.
"I shall go by the stars," he said. "I noted the bearing of the place,
and I have no doubt that I can find it again."