AT DAWN
"We have an hour," said father. "There is a great deal I must tell you,
but we must make it brief."
"Kean will be coming at sunrise," Hulda said. "I'd have got you up
earlier."
"I slept like a watchman," said Dan jovially. "Your air here must have
a drug in it--Hulda, what's the matter with your hair?"
"The matter? Don't you like it?"
"Well, but--it's turning gray. I mean--white!"
Father said: "Look at mine--wholly white. There's something in the air
here--it kills the pigment coloring. There's no one in this world with
hair other than white."
With father and Hulda, we were seated on the roof of Under Gardens. I
had, I thought, been asleep only a moment when father came to awaken
us. "Hulda is getting breakfast. Get up, you three." He added when we
were fully awake, "You'll find you don't need as much sleep here as on
earth."
Hulda served us breakfast in a quaint simulation of the way she would
have done it on earth. I would not pretend to describe the food. I was
reminded of Dan's describing the involuntary grimaces Zetta had made at
the food they served her in Porto Rico.
There was a beverage which might have been either tea or coffee--a
sweetish mixture of some herb; and the cooked flesh of what I hoped was
an animal--and eggs. They were small, and queerly oblong in shape; I
did not think it best to inquire into them too fully.
"It's a very nice breakfast, Hulda," I said lamely, as we were
finishing.
"You'll get used to it," said father. "Come upstairs."
It was dim on the roof top; the full moon was evidently low to its
setting horizon; shafts of its purple light slanted down through the
thick arch of vegetation. The flat roof of the house had a low metal
parapet; paths between gleaming basins of flowers; and a small open
area with comfortable chairs. We seated ourselves and father produced
what were evidently home-made cigars. But they were not bad.
"Well," said Dan, "this is mighty luxurious." In the moonlight I could
see his great lazy length stretched in his chair. "Hulda, sit here by
me."
She sat beside him, with her hand on his. Dear little Hulda; she would
make any man happy to whom she gave the true steadfastness of her love.
Freddie was alert and eager to hear all that father had to tell us. So
was I, but my mind was divided by thoughts of Zetta. She had not yet
appeared; and no one had spoken of her.
Father gazed around us. "It's been comfortable here. It must seem very
strange to you."
Within the vault of this encompassing wall and ceiling of vegetation,
the air hung heavy upon us. I had been convinced that a street was
overhead; if so, it was untraveled now--in the moonlight up there I
could not see the moving figures.
There seemed nothing living in sight. A moment later I was not so sure.
Vines ran up like ladders from the rooftop of the house to the jungle
ceiling. I thought, far up there, a figure was clinging. A brown shape;
a man--an animal? Or was it some giant brown insect lying motionless
on a great stalk of the vines? And then, down on the ground in front
of the house by the front fence, I saw unmistakably a brown crawling
thing. The length of a man--crawling prone with several legs; it
raised an eye toward our roof--a spot of dull red light with a circle
of smaller lights around it.
I stared; it came crawling to the gate; raised itself up, standing
the height of a man upon a tripod of jointed legs; then sank back and
crawled slowly on, following the line of fence.
Father remarked my awed, half-frightened gaze. He laughed. "One of
our guards. We've half a hundred of them on the ground here, and in
the foliage. We're just a little alarmed over Zetta's safety--you'll
understand presently."
I took advantage of that. "Where is Zetta?"
"Sleeping," said Hulda. "They do not sleep very regularly, here on
Xenephrene. She'll be up presently--I didn't want to awaken her."
* * * * *
Father settled himself in his chair. "Before I can make you understand
conditions here, I'll have to give you an idea of the history of this
world--this race of humans so unlike ourselves physically, yet in their
human qualities so very similar. Don't be impatient, Frederick. I know
what you want are the cold scientific facts--I'll be as brief as I can.
"They have always called Xenephrene 'the Wanderer.' It was their name
for their world. Our ancient earth astronomers in their ignorance
termed our planets of the Solar System 'wanderers.' They are not. They
are chained to our sun. Xenephrene has always been free. Wandering
free among the stars. Thus you will understand that the astronomical
conditions we have here now are all new to Xenephrene. What they were
before is immaterial. Nights of wan starlight; purple days of Pyrena's
moonlight.
"Perhaps in the remote past most of Xenephrene's surface was habitable.
That is not known. Very little of it is habitable now, and there is
only one main race--these Garlands. Only this one habitable region;
they call it and the city here 'Garla.' The land very possibly is
shrinking slowly to a lesser area; the race certainly is dying. Ten
thousand years from now--" He shrugged. "What difference what the
outcome may be then? Ten thousand years ago the Garlands were evidently
a very progressive, 'modern' people. Their records show it."
Father gazed at us earnestly. "I want you to understand this; it
explains much. On earth we are climbing now from savagery to what we
might call civilized modernity. The achievements of science--modern
life--a growing complexity of existence--all that, to us on earth, has
come to stand for advancement.
"These Garlands passed that era of their development centuries ago.
Their history, their records, their traditions speak eloquently of a
past age when they lived in a machine-made world of science--the sort
of world we are building so rapidly on earth. There is, not far from
here, the ruined shell of one of their great cities. I fancy that in
its prime our present-day New York or London would have seemed very
primitive indeed. It is abandoned; in moldering ruins now.
"There came a time when, growing decadent, or perhaps with a greater
wisdom, the Garlands began to feel that they were in error. Leaders
rose among them to preach a new philosophy of life.
"You understand, I am speaking of changes that came, not quickly, but
spread over centuries. These people--a single race they were then--were
isolated upon their wandering world. Their science made them understand
it more thoroughly than we understand our earth. They had built for
themselves a complex civilization. They lived in bustling metal cities.
Machines did their work.
"But they found, strangely enough, that the more 'labor-saving' devices
they invented, the more work there was to do. The cities were racked
with disease. A hundred million people, crowded upon too small an area,
living a complex artificial life, began to die faster than they were
being born. There was little happiness; life was too complex; the rush
to keep up with it was too great a strain."
Father was smiling with a faintly ironical twist, but his voice was
very earnest. "It is queer that one must come to another world to
have a revealing mirror held up to one's self! They found out, their
Garlands, that they were on the wrong track! It may have taken them
centuries to become convinced of it--but when they decided they
evidently did it very suddenly. In a lifetime or so.
"Their wonderful modern cities began to decay. The machines which they
had built to do their work began to stand idle--and instead of there
being more work to do, it seemed that there was less! They began to
remove complexities of life; the restless urge to 'advance' into some
vague golden age of achievement, died out. They realized that happiness
in life did not lie that way; they saw in Pyrena's purple moonlight a
greater beauty than all their man-made splendor had ever given.
* * * * *
"They fell--if you want to call it that--back to simplicity. With the
greater knowledge of what they had passed through, with the stress of
'modernity' no longer harrassing them, a new altruism came. A primitive
race climbing upward is in no sense comparable. The savage has no
knowledge; his simple life is for him one of struggle; the survival
of the fittest is the only law he knows. Up to so-called civilization
the survival of the fittest governs everything; the Garlands, at their
complex, scientific pinnacle of civilized life, were inherently as
barbarous as at their savage beginning.
"But once they began to revert--ah, then it was very different! They
had the knowledge of how to wrest from nature a comfortable existence.
As their wants grew fewer, humans looked at each other, not like
mistrustful predatory animals, but with a new kindliness.
"That is the present condition. The Garlands live now only for
happiness. Their life, their government, their whole mode of thought
and living, is designed upon a basis of as little struggle for
existence as possible. They live for one thing only; to enjoy their
world, not as they might mold and change it, but as the Creator made
it, and gave it to them.
"It is a benign world. Not to my mind, of course, as benign or
desirable as our own. But once they began to enjoy it, the Garlands
found it very blessed. There are fires within Xenephrene which,
for all her wanderings, seem to keep the surface temperature at a
pleasant warmth. Food grows readily; rains are frequent. There is,
fundamentally, no tendency toward human disease.
"The few wants that the Garlands now realize they need for happiness
and health are easily supplied. No one works very much; there is plenty
of time for pleasure. The struggle for a high civilization was perhaps
necessary. It gave an experience of what to accept and what to reject;
and a knowledge of how to control the forces of nature. I'll explain
that more fully later.
"There is evil in nature here--a danger which on earth we have not.
The Garlands have preserved enough of their science to enable them to
control it. Enough science also to guard against any attack. They're
not fatuous! There is a scientific body--they call it by a word I
translate as Guild. A small body of scientists who are 'modern' in
every respect. Their work is secret--so that what they do may not
contaminate the people with any desire again to 'achieve.' They are
thoroughly trustworthy, these scientists--"
Hulda said suddenly: "Or at least you hope so."
"Yes," he said gravely. "I hope and believe so. They hold in their
hands the power of this world. In their grottos they have weapons ready
and waiting--and controlled power which holds in check the evil forces
of nature--the great sub-world of Xenephrene which lies here within the
cognizance of our human senses, as you knew when you landed and first
opened your door to let it in."
I exclaimed: "These crimson things--this sound!"
It was around us, murmuring in our ears as we sat there.
"Yes," he agreed. "It is harmless, if controlled."
It was what his look implied, what he refrained from saying, that
brought me a shudder. He changed the subject abruptly.
"The animal and insect world is very interesting here, Peter. It is not
comparable to what we have on earth at all. You'll understand that very
shortly. There are few animals. The insects--" His glance involuntarily
went above us; that great brown thing was lying motionless up there in
the foliage. "The insect world plays a very large part in the scheme
of things here. These Garlands have a very well ordered world. All
designed for a pleasant existence. All this that the Guild of Science
does is never obtruded in the Garland's happy life. There is no
stress--no struggle--"
Freddie interrupted: "I'm hanged if I understand you, Professor
Vanderstuyft. You talk as though this were some Elysium here.
Utopia--something like that. But you sent for us because of impending
danger. Last night when we arrived Hulda talked very differently.
"Even awhile ago--and look at Hulda now--"
Hulda's face certainly was very solemn; Dan put his arm around her.
I said: "I feel the same--what Freddie says--father, if there is no
stress, no struggle here--"
He gestured. "I meant, in fundamentals. This is no Utopia. There never
has been any Utopia in human existence, and there never will be. Human
nature, wherever you find it in the immensity of God's Great Universe,
will have its human failings. If it had not, it would not be human.
There are good people--and bad people. Most of us are a blend of both
qualities. There is nothing wholly good short of Divinity, and nothing
wholly bad save our conception, perchance, of Satan."
"Your father is in a philosophical mood," Dan commented to Hulda.
But she did not smile. Father said:
"Perhaps. But in reality I'm trying to make clear to you the causes
which have brought forth here a serious condition. It affects this
world--and you, all of us--for you are now plunged into it with me. And
the safety of our own earth--" Father's voice turned vigorous. "Why do
you suppose I sent for you? I could not leave here--I would rather,
infinitely rather, have come back with Hulda."
"Tell us," said Dan.
* * * * *
Freddie prompted: "There are two races here. You mentioned the Brauns
in your letter. Are they the race which menaces the earth? Who invaded
it before?"
Dan said: "That night in our house in Porto Rico--who took you away?
What was Zetta doing there? Who was the man with her we found dead? She
had just told you everything that afternoon you both disappeared--what
was it she told you--"
"You see, there is so much, father, which we are eager to know--" I put
in. He raised his hand against our outpouring of questions.
"I'm trying to tell you as best I can. There was only one race
here--the Garlands. They were not all of one mind in giving up
modernity. No race of people can ever be all the same. Some continued
to lust for achievement; some desired personal power--conventional
riches; some were just plain bad. Criminals. Only in Utopia would there
be a complete lack of crime.
"Out of this diversity the Garland rulers strove to weed the discordant
element. Generations ago it was found expedient to exile criminals. A
region north of here, at the edge of the metal plains, was set aside as
a penal colony. Criminals were banished to live there, and there they
bred their kind.
"Then, later, it was made by law a crime here in Garla to preach
modernity. The element--outside of the legalized scientific Guild--who
still lusted for the old achievement, were classed as criminals
and were banished also. As a matter of actuality they were largely
criminals at heart.
"There were a few well-meaning crusaders who felt that the world was
going wrong--who actually believed their doctrine of 'hustle, bustle
and get rich.' But for the most part this element was composed of men
of criminal instinct who thought they could gain power by such a stand.
They preached, sought followers, tried by every means to foster a
discontent. Some were clever, learned men; one even tried to foment a
revolution and seize the government; another started a little city and
culture of his own.
"Gradually they were weeded out and exiled. Thus, to the north of here,
the race of the Brauns was created. Of criminal stock, primarily--and
constantly absorbing all the criminals from Garla. They have one large
city--nearly all of them live in it. They are progressive--modern, as
I term it. Fundamentally, of course, they are not intellectually the
equals of the Garlands. But they think they are. They number now about
a hundred thousand. Somewhat more than that, perhaps. They have their
own government; they punish and imprison their criminals according to
their own standards of justice."
"I should think," said Dan, "that they would object to having the
Garlands dump criminals upon them."
"If they do, they have no other recourse. They could, naturally,
banish them to some other region. But they do not. The Brauns are few
in number. They welcome new citizens. Their city is very progressive.
Their chief occupation is industry. They have commercial intercourse
with Garla; they bring us clothing, implements, various manufactured
articles, which we exchange for food. They do not go in for
agriculture--indeed they have very little, and very poor land.
"The Garlands, you understand, are the ruling race. They are ten
or fifteen times more numerous than the Brauns. And for all their
voluntary, rustic simplicity, they are far more intelligent. The Brauns
are not allowed here, except when they are checked in through our
frontier guards. They are given a permit, if their desired visit seems
justifiable; they are allowed to stay only a limited time to transact
their business, and then are checked out.
"Their government now, for all their civilized talk of democracy and
freedom, is an autocracy, almost a despotism. It is controlled by one
Graff, a giant of a fellow who calls himself a scientist. As a young
man here in Garla, he tried to gather followers about him, and to seize
our government. He was exiled. Among the Brauns, he rose rapidly into
a very solid power. He is a genius in his way, no doubt. Certainly he
has a genius for organization. A magnificent physique--he is larger
than you, Dan--and possibly stronger. They tell me, too, he is a great
orator. He can sway people--he talked himself where he is, as did many
a man in our own earthly history.
"A few years ago--just before Xenephrene wandered into our solar system
to be entrapped by our sun--Graff had stirred his people into thinking
they could conquer the Garlands and thus rule Xenephrene. The most
progressive, most civilized race--why could they not overcome these
fatuous peasants? The Braun civilization, as you can imagine, has
developed all the extremes of riches and poverty. They have factory
workers who are miserably downtrodden. Graff, largely responsible now
for it all, yet poses as a patriot and a hero. His ignorant class
follows him, hoping blindly to better itself.
"Graff came here with a sudden coup to war against the Garlands. With
all his diabolical science--by every inhuman means he could employ.
And he was very much surprised to be abruptly repulsed. The Garland
Scientific Guild was ready; the Brauns were horribly slaughtered;
chastened, and things went on as before."
* * * * *
I had been aware for some time that the scene around us was
brightening. The moon evidently had set, or nearly so. A luminous
quality of yellow color seemed in the air; the purple haze was going.
Dawn was at hand. Our first day upon Xenephrene! What would it bring
forth? My breath came faster at the thought.
The vault of foliage around and over us was taking clearer form; new
colors were coming to it. Down on the ground the crawling thing was
coming back past our gate. It met another of its kind. They rose up,
stood for a moment together, and then parted, crawling their separate
ways. Had they spoken to each other as they passed? They had seemed,
to my quickened, stimulated fancy, almost like two shapes of men,
guards, exchanging a low word as they passed on their night patrol.
I shuddered. Men! That crawling thing down there in the shadow by the
burnished metal fence might have been a giant ant; certainly nothing
human.
Father leaned forward toward us; his earnest gaze held my wandering
attention. "I come now to the more recent events which directly concern
us of the earth. Xenephrene wandered in to join our little family of
planets gathered about our sun. Graff, with his science, in which
astronomy evidently is further progressed than ours of earth, was well
aware of what had happened. His telescope showed him earth--showed him
very possibly things on earth which gave him a new lust for conquest.
Here was a great, fair world, ready to his hand for the taking. He
could never be master of Xenephrene--of that he was convinced.
"He gathered a small force and went to earth. His intention then was
not to try to conquer it--the trip was merely experimental. He wanted
to make sure of conditions there--"
"To know what he was up against," I put in.
"Exactly, Peter. He is a clever, resourceful fellow. He landed, as
we know, near New York. Then went South, to investigate the warmer
climate--the snow and cold were disconcerting to him.
"To give you an idea how carefully he plans things--he speaks now both
our English and Spanish, making ready for his future earth campaigns
when he may need them. He captured--this he told me very blandly--an
earth man near New York. Learned English from him. And also captured a
Venezuelan--who supplied the Spanish. Both captives, as Graff blandly
says, unfortunately died when he was through with them. It was not a
great task for him to learn our tongues. The Xenephrene mind absorbs
new things--learns--more readily than ours. And Graff is perhaps even
exceptional in that."
"Zetta--" I began.
"Zetta and her father were here in Garla. The news that Graff had
invaded earth aroused great interest here. The Garlands doubtless might
have stopped him if they had known of it sooner. But they did not.
Also, the government here decided that they would not interfere--it was
really nothing to them."
"I'd think," said Freddie, "they'd have been pleased to get rid of him
and his tribe."
"That was the general idea. Indeed, perhaps it still is. That's
what I'm working against. Zetta's father--alone of all the Garland
government at that time Graff made his first invasion of earth--was
anxious to stop him. Zetta's father preached the doctrine, 'Do as you
would be done by.' He wanted to protect the earth people, or, if not
that, at least to warn them.
"Zetta, of course, felt the same. Her mother is dead--she and her
father, without other near kin, were very close and dear to each other.
They got nowhere in trying to persuade the Garlands to help our earth.
Zetta, had she found the opportunity, might even have tried to join
Graff's expedition, a wild, girlish idea--she felt she might have some
influence with him--get him to give up his scheme of conquest--"
"In Heaven's name, why?" Dan demanded. "Why did she think she might
influence him?"
"Because he is in love with her," father replied gravely.
"In love--" I exclaimed.
"Yes. He has pleaded for her many times. He never comes here that he
does not try to get her to return to the Braun city with him. He's very
gentle with her--she seems not to fear him."
"Well, I would," said Hulda; and father nodded. And added: "An
unscrupulous scoundrel, beyond question. I have felt for months that
Zetta was not safe from him. Whenever he is in Garla, I keep our place
here well guarded."
"He's in Garla now?" I asked. My heart was beating fast. "Didn't Zetta
tell that man last night that she wanted to see this Graff?"
"Yes. But I will not let her. She thinks she might be able to stop him
going to earth. A foolish girl's idea." Father waved it away.
"I learned very recently, though we have suspected and feared it for
some time--Graff's real expedition to attack earth is now ready! Do
you understand me? He's going to earth with all his force to make his
real play to conquer it--not seventeen months hence--but now! Graff is
ready now to attack the earth. Oh, Peter, if I had only known!"
That miserable phrase again! That accursed phrase!
"Peter, I should have sent for you sooner. I could have used every
effort--sent for you seventeen months ago. Well, it's too late now to
think of that. In a few days! Unless we can stop him! Or persuade the
Garlands to do something about it--"
"Which they won't," said Hulda. "He's here in Garla buying food for his
expedition. And making public speeches to our people--promising them
heaven knows what kind of rewards when he returns from conquering the
earth. The Garland public is half won to him now. And the woman Brea is
here--"
* * * * *
"Who is Brea?" I asked.
"A woman who wants to join him," said father. "Call it marriage--I
haven't time now to go into the social laws of this world."
"You were telling us how Zetta went to the earth," Freddie prompted.
"Was that her father who went with her?"
"Yes. They could get no help from the Garlands, so they started
alone--to warn us on earth--to do what they could to help us. Zetta's
father was ill. The trip was bad for him. He died, just as they
arrived. And Zetta carried on his plans."
Freddie persisted: "The Garlands gave them the vehicle?"
"Yes."
"What weapons have they available here? Now, I mean. Suppose they gave
us some--"
Father smiled somewhat ruefully. "The Scientific Guild here takes me
only partially in its confidence. Smiling, polite, courteous--but I
am a stranger--they never forget that for a moment. What weapons they
have, I confess I don't know. Graff's method of attack on earth--that,
too, I don't know. His weapon, which we called the 'Crimson Sound'--I
can only guess its real nature. It is allied with the Infra-Red
world--that is obvious.
"At all events, when I learned that Graff was planning to attack our
world again, I demanded of the Garlands a vehicle with which to go to
earth. They told me they had none. We're building one--it may be ready
now. As a matter of fact, I did not feel it best to leave here. I still
may be able to persuade them to help us. They were willing to have
you come. They provided me with the cylinders--and the mechanisms--so
readily that I was forced to suspect that in reality they have
everything on hand which we would need. Zetta has done everything she
can do. But she is only a girl--the government pays little attention
to her. She has made several speeches to the women of Garla--but they
availed nothing."
Father's fists were clenched on the arms of his chair. "When I sent for
you three, I thought we would have seventeen months. I thought with
your presence--your words and pleadings to add to mine--to make them
help us, and--I'll confess it--I was lonely for you. I'm getting old."
"You thought something else, father," said Hulda quietly. Strange
little Hulda! A will of iron, beneath her soft, dovelike little body!
Father lowered his voice slightly; his glance around us in the growing
twilight of dawn had a surreptitious aspect. "Yes, I did. I thought
that with your youth and strength and daring we might perhaps be able
to thwart Graff here on Xenephrene before he started. Or, failing
that"--his voice fell lower--"we might even dare try and make away with
the Garlands' weapons--get them to earth."
Dan leaped to his feet; his height towered over us. "Well, it's not too
late for that, is it? See here, why can't we--"
"Sit down," said Freddie. "There's a lot we don't know about this thing
yet. Professor Vanderstuyft, how did you and Hulda and Zetta happen to
disappear that night in Porto Rico?"
"Graff knew Zetta was on earth," said father. "He came to get her--I
was up, and Hulda was awake. The man Graff sent captured all three of
us. We went back in the vehicle Zetta had arrived in. Our captor's
name was Kean--that same young fellow who spoke to us last night--he's
coming here shortly now to see me."
"Then he was a spy--not really one of Graff's men?" Freddie suggested.
"No. He was in Graff's service. But a very decent fellow. He had been
convicted of a crime here in Garla. A theft. Convicted unjustly, he
says, for he still maintains his innocence. They're trying him again
now--at his request--even though he has recently been pardoned and
reinstated in Garla. He was exiled, and, in his resentment, he joined
Graff. He captured us in the Cain plantation house. He was supposed to
take us to the Brauns. But he didn't. He brought us here."
"Why?" asked Dan.
Father was smiling at Hulda. "Well, Dan, I think you'd better ask Hulda
that. But don't be angry with her. She is--"
A woman's scream brought us all to our feet. My blood chilled; a wave
of ice seemed sweeping up to grip my heart. A scream from within the
house below us! A scream of terror! Zetta!