CHAPTER XX.

DOOMED REALM!

It seemed for an instant that we had not the courage left to struggle.

Yet even a rat within a cage plunged into water frantically fights

to its last strength. We stood with full realization, apathetic; and

then panic descended upon us. The instinct for self-preservation,

overwhelming, driving us into unreasonable panic. We flung ourselves

at the door; upon the thick windows we beat with bruised, futile fists.

This inconceivable torrent, rising. The windows were wet with the

spray; as though a wave had struck us, solid water dashed against

them and then receded. A white chaos out there, with the violet light

leaping through it.

“Jeff! We can’t--we can’t get out! Jeff! Here--help me hit it! Let’s

try hitting it with the table--”

I stood, with some remnant of reason, striving to master the panic. So

this was the end?

“Tad, for God’s sake, stop! Don’t waste time. Stop and think what’s

best to do. We’ve got to find a way out!” I held him, shook him. “We’ve

got a few minutes--there must be some way!”

So this was the end of Tad Megan and Jeff Grant? Ah, there is a fate

to guide us all in the making of our destiny. In stress, in crisis, in

disaster--always some little thing.

My foot struck against the small projector lying on the floor. I

stooped and seized it.

“Tad. This?” I moved about the room. With this stabbing, burning light,

could we not blast or burn our way out through some vulnerable spot?

We were both suddenly calmer.

“Easy, Jeff, don’t waste its charge. How many flashes has it got?”

“I don’t know.” The building shook under the blow of an upflung surge

of solid spray. “We’ll find some spot that might fuse easily.”

The window facing the ladder platform--its thick pane seemed embedded

in a casement like lead, a gray soft metal. I stood a foot from it and

fired. The stab of light came back at me, the recoil like a blow, and

burning. My hand and arm were seared. But a portion of the casement was

gone. The wind from outside came through.

“It works, Jeff! Give it to me--I’ll try one.”

A dozen or more blasts of the projector, then it failed us, empty, its

charge exhausted. I flung it away. But the bull’s-eye pane was almost

free. We raised the metal table, heaved it. The corner of it struck the

pane; the whole thing fell outward. Wind and spume came beating madly

through.

We climbed, and fell outward upon the platform. The roar was deafening.

We crouched, clung and found the head of the ladder, then went down it.

There seemed still only spray at the bottom. In the white murk I saw

the wet black ground, wet courtyard walls. The crest of a wave engulfed

them. We clung to the bottom of the ladder. The water fell away.

We leaped, reached the ground, and ran, the spray following us down the

declivity. The white abyss into which the water had been falling was

nearly filled. I saw, as we turned and ran, the blurred vision of that

gigantic crumbling dam. But even that would be very soon but a portion

of the torrent.

* * * * *

The aëro was still unharmed. It seemed, as we climbed to it and started

it aloft, that a wall of water swept under us. The car bucked and

whirled in the wind; the spray was like a torrential salt rain as we

mounted through it.

We had to shout above the roar.

“You think you can guide us out, Tad?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“We’ve got to get to the tunnel and find Arturo and Nereid.”

The water raced us. We rose perhaps five hundred feet. This abyss of

the monsters now was not silent, nor dark. Behind us we could hear the

roar and lash of the water pouring in. The dark, dying sea was whipped

into fury, and rising visibly. The turmoil of water was white now. The

white radiance streamed from it. I saw, far overhead, a rocky ceiling.

I looked back. The radiance showed the clifflike wall back there,

blurred by the white chaos; but I saw it crumbling.

We found the connecting passage leading out to the abyss of the Middge

and Gians. The water had reached here--the first surge racing through

here, a mile-wide subterranean torrent. We flew close over it. There

was a place where the ceiling came down. We barely got through.

Racing, with the abyss behind us breaking under the pressure.

Distant, muffled rumbling, horribly gigantic, behind us. There was

a vague muffled explosion off somewhere--some fire-pit which the

water had reached. The vibration of it--the suddenly increased air

pressure--dashed our aëro into a wild upward leap, and then a drop. We

barely recovered, and raced on.

The torrent here in the passage was eating at the walls. One of them

broke through as we went by. A rock mass fell close behind us. The

water backed against it; it broke sidewise in other places.

A chaos of falling rock was back there. The dammed-up water turned

other ways, into other abysses--filled them, soon rose, pursuing us

again.

“Where are we, Tad?”

I shouted it as we lay prone, clinging to the leaping little aëro.

“In the main abyss, I think. God, Jeff, look over there!”

We seemed rushing through the familiar abyss of the Mound City. But it

was no longer familiar. I followed Tad’s gaze, and saw a red glare in

the distance.

“Is that the fire caldron?”

“I don’t know--I think so--or was it the other way?”

The outlines of the abyss were changing; the walls breaking down; fire

pits opening. For a time--how long I cannot say--we were lost. An hour

perhaps? Or more?

We flew aimlessly, seeking the tunnel-entrance. Did it still exist?

This doomed realm! There were things Tad and I saw in that hour or

more of flight which have marked us forever with horror, a myriad

small fragmentary glimpses which were all our minds could grasp--tiny

fragments of the whole which was beyond conception.

The distant red glare spread. We avoided it, flying the other way. Tad

thought that the black wall off to our left held the tunnel mouth. But

it began breaking, and a wall of water engulfed it.

The hot breath of the fires reached us, thickly sulphurous. We soon

were gasping.

Everywhere the honeycomb was breaking down. Still distant--but the

familiar conformations of the abyss were changing.

Lost. And then a new hope came to us. The surface beneath us showed

clear in the red glare. Houses were here now, and a road.

“We’ve passed the tunnel,” Tad shouted. “That’s the road from the

Mound--I know the way now!”

* * * * *

We turned back and followed it. People were down there. Middge and

loaded _arras_, running in panic.

A muffled explosion sounded through the mingled roar of water and

falling rock. A hot sulphurous wave of gas came surging. It seemed to

cling to the surface--a black mist rolling, spreading. It engulfed

the struggling line of Middge. Its tongues of flame licked at them.

They wilted, shriveled. Human cries came up to us--shrill, tiny as

shrieking insects. The gas-cloud hid them.

“Higher, Tad--we’ll be--choked--”

We mounted. The air was pure here, wet with wind and the salt of the

inrushing sea. A wall of water came tumbling, engulfing, lashing at the

surface, then pounding off to some lower area. A monster--something

still alive, struggling with instinct of fear--trumpeted with a

strident, uncanny scream. The cry stopped in a moment as the thing was

swept away.

This doomed realm!

“Tad, look! Is that the entrance?”

A rock wall still intact loomed ahead of us, and a tunnel mouth,

blurred in the mingled spray and smoke. One small beacon light still

remained, bleary, winking--vanishing.

We landed on the rock with a crash. Unhurt, we jumped from the aëro.

Human figures lay here, twisted, huddled shapes. A few still tried to

move.

We choked with the fumes. I passed a child--dead, clinging in death to

its dead mother. A woman alone--gruesomely burned from some flaming

tongue which had licked the rocks here. I stooped. No, it was not

Nereid.

We thought we had come to the niche where Arturo and Nereid were to

meet us. It was empty. We stumbled away.

In the tunnel mouth the air seemed momentarily better. A man struggled

ahead of us, then fell, lay still. I stooped over him. No, not Arturo.

The tunnel rose steeply. For just a moment at a turn, we stood looking

back. A muttering, screaming, hissing abyss of red glare--steam and

smoke and mingled water and fire, breaking down all its distant walls,

an inconceivable torrent, filling this abyss, smothering these fires,

crushing these passages. Rushing thousands of miles--smashing and

roaring to find new levels.

We rounded the corner--struggled and stumbled on upward through the

dark tunnel.

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