Catastrophe
For a long, blank moment of dismay and horror, I stood staring out
across that deserted passageway. I was as one who, in mid-ocean,
suddenly feels the waves foaming over him with no sign of a rescuing
sail. Not until this instant had the full terror of my plight
overwhelmed me; not until this instant had I felt utterly hopeless and
helpless. Now that Clay was gone, it was as if the very under-pinnings
of my world had been torn from beneath me.
Yet my alarm was not for myself. It was of Clay that I was thinking; it
was Clay's tormented face that flashed before my mind as if surrounded
by a red glare of danger. And the conviction came to me, irrational yet
irresistible, that he had either been slain or was in mortal peril.
Goaded by that dread, I shook myself out of the inaction that had
seized me as I regained the main gallery. I forgot my personal risk;
I scarcely cared whether or not a death-bolt felled me; I began
running furiously up and down, as recklessly as one who courts his own
destruction. Still no trace of Clay! Surely, he would not willingly
have deserted me! But had he too rushed into one of the side-corridors?
Then why had he not returned? Had he not heard my shouting? Would he
not shout for me as well?
While these and other questions shot across my mind in baffling
succession, I peered fruitlessly into the shadows of half a score of
side-galleries; and into each of them I called as loudly as my cracked
and broken voice would permit; "Phil! Phil! Phil! Where are you? Where
are you, Phil?"
But still only the mocking echoes came back to taunt me.
Had I been a more cautious man, I would have been less ready to cry out
into those mysterious depths. For, while I accomplished nothing for
Clay, I was weaving a grim net of danger about my own head....
I had called into the tenth or eleventh passageway, when an answering
yell met my ears--not the welcome voice I craved, but a high-pitched
cry in some unknown tongue, a cry of such unspeakable shrillness
and ferocity that I stopped short as if paralyzed and felt my knees
faltering beneath me and my hair bristling.
Almost at the same instant, a grisly apparition glided forth amid the
dimness of the side-gallery. I say apparition, for, although it was
solid flesh and blood, it flashed upon me like a ghost--worse than a
ghost!--like the phantom of death himself! Imagine a man-sized figure,
robed from head to foot in black, and with a sable hood, the shape
of a fool's cap! Imagine a face of spectral, chalky white! Imagine a
toothless mouth leering with wide-gaping jaws; imagine the creature
starting forward with black-gloved hands extended, and with that
hideous shriek still shrilling from its lips; imagine--
But I did not take time for further observation. Despite all the strain
I had endured, my legs retained their vigor. Not for nothing had I been
on the track team at college! But alas!--as I rushed like a hounded
deer along the main gallery, I was dashed to grief. I do not know what
betrayed me--perhaps a crevice in the floor, perhaps only a pebble; at
all events, I pitched ingloriously head over heels and came painfully
to a halt.
Hastily picking myself up, regardless of a bruised shin and aching
knee-joint, I was about to resume my flight--when I found my pathway
blocked. All about me, at distances of from ten to twenty yards, were
dozens of beings so strange that they might have been dwellers of
another planet.
They were riding cross-legged on curious low cars of about the size
and shape of children's coasters--little wheeled vehicles, three or
four feet long, a foot high, and a foot wide, which, with a buzzing of
motors, darted back and forth nervously, frequently colliding with one
another in their haste. This it was which explained their rapidity in
over-taking me.
But more astonishing than the machines were the creatures themselves.
For a moment, as they ringed me about in a gaping crowd, I had the
uncanny sensation of being imprisoned by phantoms. Like him who had
started me on my flight, they were all black-clad from crown to heel;
they all had faces which, snowy white, seemed scarcely human in their
bloodless pallor. Their hair, protruding in long tufts from beneath
their cone-shaped hats, was either paper-white or gray; their eyes,
narrower than those of most men, gave the impression of being not fully
open, and were curiously pink or salmon-colored; their noses were flat
and stubby, their chins weak and almost unnoticeable, while their
narrow chests were so stooped and pinched that I could have believed
the whole lot of them to be consumptives.
* * * * *
Had it not been for the latter features, I might have mistaken them
all for women; for they wore long skirts which came down well below
the knees. The impression of femininity, moreover, was re-inforced by
the V-shaped slits in the backs of their costumes, and by the black
pencilling of the eyebrows, which were overlooked by little snake-like
curves, painted as if for artistic effect.
But at the first horrified glimpse, I did not observe all these
details. I merely noticed how the creatures surrounded me, keeping at
a distance of not less than ten yards, while rolling restlessly back
and forth in their little cars; I noticed how several of them carried
long dragon-shaped banners of green and vermilion, and how others bore
little pistol-like implements, from which every now and then a forked
lightning-shaft flashed toward the ceiling. And as I gazed out at the
strangers, every other thought was lost in the despairing sense that I
was trapped.
Yes!--I was trapped as completely as though they had me in irons. The
circle about me was unbroken, and there was no way of escape!
Several minutes went by, during which nothing of importance happened.
The creatures stared at me, almost glared at me, with every expression
of interest; some of them jabbered to one another in those peculiar
high-pitched voices so unpleasant to my ears; others pointed at me
with curious gestures that may have indicated surprise, derision, or
anger; one of them even stepped forth a little and addressed me in
particularly loud and rasping tones, of which I could understand not
one word.
But when I, in my turn, called out to them as a test, "Who are you?
Where am I?" they answered with a round of such unpleasant, grating
laughter that I resolved to hold my tongue thenceforth. Evidently
English was not spoken in the caverns beneath the earth.
I do not know whether the people interpreted my words as mockery, or
were incensed by my failure to answer them intelligibly. In any case, I
could see an expression of hostility, of suspicion deepening in their
salmon eyes, and knew that I had provoked their disfavor. But I was
little prepared for their next action. From a rifle-like machine in
the hand of the foremost man, a coil of wire leapt forth; and, before
I realized the intention or had had a chance to evade it, the coil had
fallen over my neck and was tightening about my shoulders, drawing
my arms together against my sides and binding me as helplessly as a
lassoed steer.
Naturally, I struggled, but the chief effect was to provoke more of
that unpleasant grating laughter. The metal, which was thick as my
index finger, would not yield to my most frantic efforts. The more I
writhed, the more deeply it cut into my flesh; and the more deeply it
cut into my flesh, the more heartily the chalky-faced folk laughed at
my groans.
Then after a minute or two, my captors began pulling at the wire. While
some of the little coaster-like machines rolled behind me, and some
rolled ahead, but none approached within ten yards, I was led away down
one of the side-galleries, like a dog at the end of a string, toward a
fate I could hardly conjecture.