"Away," said Brett. "She was too young to meet a man then. Only now has
she come to be sixteen. You'll like her, Martt. I want you to like her."
"I will," said Martt enthusiastically, "if she's anything like Leela."
"You were telling us about the life here," I suggested. "We always
called this land the Inner Surface----"
"Yes," he agreed. "It is concave, like the inner shell of some great,
hollow globe. Within the space it encloses----" He gestured to where,
through the arcade, a segment of purple, star-filled sky was visible.
"All that which we of Earth called the Celestial Universe is enclosed
by this concave shell. You would think that this must be a gigantic
region----" He smiled again. "It is not. Compared to our present
enormous size, I imagine the circumference of this Inner Surface is
not unduly great. I don't know. These people have not explored very
far. They are not wanderers--they are too indolent, too contented, to
wander."
He paused to drink from a shallow receptacle which stood before us, and
offered Martt and me what appeared to be arrant cylinders to smoke.
"I have learned a little of the language. Proper names are impossible
to translate. But the meaning of their word for this land, I call
in English. Romantica. The romantic land. It is, I fancy, about
five hundred miles square. Beyond it lie forests and mountains. No
one here has ever penetrated them. There are wild beasts, birds,
insect life--and fish and reptiles in the water. But they are not
dangerous--not aggressive. It is not because of them that these people
avoid exploration. It is--just indolence."
"I don't wonder," I said. "This is very peaceful here--I have no
desire to do anything in particular." From the city streets a drone of
activity floated up to us; but it was almost somnolent.
"It's always like this," said Brett. "Almost no change of seasons--the
light always the same. There is no disease here--or very little.
Food--grains, and what we would call vegetables, grow abundantly in
this rich soil. The trees give milk--even the bark and pulp of them are
edible. Life is easy. There is nothing to struggle against.
"Through generations, it has made the people kindly. There is little
crime. No struggle for land, or food or clothing. Crimes involving
sex----" He gestured. "Wherever humans exist there will be crimes of
that origin. But our women here are very sensible, and when a woman
does what is right--well, you know, don't you, that most deeds of
violence into which men plunge over women have a woman's wrong actions
at the bottom of them? There is little of that here, for the women take
care that there shall not be.
"So they call their country Romantica. They are not a scientific
people. They do not struggle for advancement. Art has taken the place
of science. Painting. Sculpture. Music. They have developed music
very far. It has a soul here. It speaks--it sings--it seems a living
entity. It is--what music ought to be, but seldom is--the pure voice
of love, of romance. . . . I was telling you about our country. Most
of its population live in villages, and in individual dwellings
strewn about the hills. There are but two large cities. This one--the
largest--they call Crescent. Or at least their word for it suggests the
shape of the lake. The other city is about fifty miles from here"--he
gestured again--"off there where you see the line of mountains. They
call it Reaf. It's a quaint city. Built largely over the water--rivers
there--hot, subterranean rivers which rush underground--under the
mountains. They go--who knows where? No one has ever been down them.
The mountains are honeycombed with caves, tunnels, passages leading
within, and up. Always up. But into them no one has ever penetrated.
Legends tell fabulous tales of a great world up there. The giants, we
think----"
When Brett and Martt had first come here, giants had appeared.
Dwindling giants--strange, savage beings of half-human aspect. They
had appeared--no one knew from where. Growing smaller until they were
normal size to this realm. Not many had been seen. Some had kept on
dwindling; they had grown so small, when attacked, that they had become
invisible. At the thought, I moved my foot involuntarily with a shudder
of uneasiness. Here on the floor beside me now, men like beasts might
be lurking, so small I could not see them. Yet in a moment they might
grow to a stature greater than my own. . . .
Men like beasts! . . . And I remembered that, with size gigantic, they
had destroyed the third city of Romantica.
Upon Brett's face lay a cloud of apprehension. "We have never heard
from them since. It is thought--I think myself--that they came from
the subterranean rivers, or through the underground passages of the
mountains. I conceive this concave surface upon which we're living
to be the inner surface of a shell. It may not be very thick--there
at Reaf. Above it--beyond it--up or down are mere comparative
terms--beyond it must lie some vastly greater outside world. This whole
realm is doubtless within an atom of that greater world. It would be a
convex surface up there--with a sky and stars beyond. . . .
"We have never seen the giants since that time when Martt and I rescued
Leela. Everyone here seems to have forgotten them----" Brett's voice
was heavy with apprehension. "These people are so trustful! They forget
so quickly! No one worries. Our rulers here--a venerable man and woman
long past the age when death is expected--are so gentle, kindly, that
they can not imagine harm coming to their people. They have forgotten
the Hill City which the giants destroyed. Trampled upon it! Six or
eight giants--they must have been several hundred feet tall--stamping,
kicking the building! I've been there--I've seen the ruins--strewn for
miles--and with buildings, colonnades and terraces mashed into the
ground! There were no more than half a thousand people surviving that
destruction of the Hill City--and thousands died. But everyone says
now, 'The giants are gone. We are safe.'"
Brett's voice had risen to a swift vehemence. "It's been like living
on a volcano to me, all these months. There are no weapons here. My
own few flash-cylinders--of what use would a tiny flash of lightning
be against beings so gigantic? We've got to do something. For if those
giants come again----"
A step sounded in the oval doorway near at hand. Leela stood
smilingly, deprecatingly before us.