Dirk's head turned slowly; his eyes met those of the Princess Lenore.
And what he found there forced the answer from his lips.
"Yes, Rima. May the gods help me ... I love her."
"That," said the Nadronian girl, "I know. And this also I know ... that
she loves you. Does she love you enough to join you in the new world
which is the only one whereon you now can live? Enough to join you on
Nadron?"
It was Lenore who answered that question. She said simply, "I do not
understand your meaning, woman who dwells in a column of flame ... but
this much I _do_ know. Where Dirk Morris dwells, there would I dwell
also."
Rima nodded, satisfied.
"That, too, I had expected. It is well. She will make you a good mate,
Dirk Morris. I wish--" There was a strange catch in her voice, a catch
clenched teeth upon her lower lip could not quite stifle--"I wish
you ... much joy ... in my lost, beloved homeland--"
Dirk stared at her aghast, uncomprehending. "Rima!" he cried. "Lost
homeland? I don't understand--"
The maid of Nadron smiled wanly. Her voice, when she spoke, was
infinitely gentle.
"Surely _you_ should know, Dirk Morris, that one cannot pass with
impunity from one universe of vibration to another?"
Dirk said, "You mean that you, as I did, have become a ... a wraith to
your own world? That henceforth you have no true existence on Nadron,
as I none on Earth?"
Rima nodded quietly, sadly.
"But then," stammered Dirk, "if not on Nadron, where _is_ your new
plane of existence?" A hope caught and tugged at his heart. "Earth,
perhaps? Our planet will become your new world?"
* * * * *
Rima shook her head. "No, Dirk Morris. The atomic pathway of Space-Time
winds ever upward ... not downward to a lower vibrational plane.
When this protective shield, which already wanes--" She glanced with
a swift, despairing apprehension as the iridescence dulled, and a
crepuscular wavering dimmed its outlines--"When this shield wanes, I
shall move ... forward to a bourne I cannot guess. A better world,
perhaps, or ... a worse--"
"No!" cried Dirk. He started forward, but within the blazing column a
white arm rose in stern command.
"No farther, Dirk. To touch this field means death!"
"Rima!" cried Dick huskily. "Rima, you shouldn't have done this. It
wasn't required of you!"
"The quest of liberty," said the girl softly, "is the quest of all men,
all women, everywhere. I was watching your progress, Dirk. When I saw
you had been trapped, I knew someone must come to your aid, someone
must carry out the plans you had so carefully laid.
"My father was too old. The journey between our two worlds is ... well,
not without pain. So--" The girl smiled--"I came."
"You sacrificed yourself," cried Dirk humbly, "for us. It is too much.
Earth can never repay you, Rima."
"I was repaid when you refused life at the expense of your own
honor, Dirk. Now it is done I can tell you that on your decision at
that moment rested the future fate of Earth. We of Nadron have ever
hesitated in dabbling in the affairs of others. Had you proved unworthy
of our aid in that moment of trial. I would not have made the journey.
"And now--" There flickered in her eyes a shadow of thin, wondering
fear as the veil of flame about her seemed to shudder--"the time has
come for ... parting--"
"No!" shouted Dirk, as if by the very strength of his cry he could
withhold the inexorable. "No, Rima! Don't--"
His cry ended in a little moan. For at that moment the shimmering
column trembled and ... vanished like the flame of a snuffed candle.
The last vision of Rima to be burned forevermore upon the retina of
Dirk Morris' memory was that of a slim and gallant goddess, whiteclad,
lifting a soft arm in salute ... and farewell.
Then ... nothing.
* * * * *
Dirk turned away, shaken. He whispered, "Gone! Rima ... gone ... no one
knows where--"