I pass to that June night, over three years after Cannell's
disappearance, when my own part in the drama may be said to begin.
Lantin and I were working late in our laboratory at the Foundation,
when we were interrupted by the telephone bell. We had reached a
critical point in our experiment, and as Lantin hurried over to the
instrument, I heard him muttering threats to have it removed. I did not
catch his first answer, but after a minute's silence he flung out a
single word, in a strange voice, that startled me.
"Cannell!"
At once I hastened over to his side, and as I did so, he turned toward
me a face eloquent of astonishment, still holding the receiver to his
ear. "I'll be there in ten minutes!" he shouted into the instrument,
then hung up and turned to face my excited questions.
"Good God, Wheeler," he cried, "it's Cannell!"
"What?" I asked, stupidly, dumfounded by the assertion.
"Cannell," he repeated, "at my apartment. He says to meet him there at
once. Where could he have been, these three years?"
But I was already reaching for my hat and a moment later we were on the
street outside, hailing a cruising taxi. Lantin's bachelor home was in
the west 70's, a little roof-bungalow set on top of a big apartment
building, and we sped up the avenue toward it with the highest legal
speed.
Lantin did not speak at all, on the way. He was plainly highly excited,
but my own agitation was fast calming. After all, I thought, the
thing might be a stupid practical joke, though an unforgivable one to
perpetrate. Still, if Lantin had recognized the voice--Before I
could ask him about that, the cab stopped, and we hastened into the
building, to the elevator.
When the cage stopped at its highest point in the building, Lantin was
instantly out and striding eagerly across the foyer of his apartment.
He flung the door open, then stopped short. Standing behind him, I
peered over his shoulder into the room inside. There was a man there, a
man who jumped to his feet and came quickly toward us. It was Cannell,
I saw at once. Cannell--but changed.
His face was drawn and haggard, and instead of his former impatient,
challenging expression, it bore the impress of an unearthly fear. A
fear that showed even in the tense, half-crouching position of his
body, as he came across the room toward us, searching our faces with
his burning eyes. He came closer, gripped Lantin's hands, struggled to
speak.
"Thank God you came, Lantin!" he cried, chokingly.
We stood speechless, and with a sudden reaction of feeling he stepped
back and sank wearily into a chair, running his hand tiredly over his
eyes. Lantin found his voice then for the first time.
"Where have you been, man?" he shouted. "Three years! For God's sake,
Cannell, what happened to you? Where were you all that time?"
Cannell gazed up at us, strangely, somberly, a brooding darkness
settling on his face. "All that time?" he repeated, musingly. "Three
years? Three years to you, perhaps, but not to me. But not to me."
A sudden glance flashed between Lantin and myself. Was the man mad? Did
that account for his strange disappearance?
Cannell saw and interpreted that glance. "I know what you're thinking,"
he told us, "and sometimes I think you're right, that I really am
crazy. I would be better off if I were," he concluded, darkly. But
before we could comment on his strange words, his mood changed abruptly
and he motioned us to chairs beside him, bending toward us in sudden
eagerness.
"But you two," he said, "I can tell you what I saw, what happened. I
could not tell others--no! They would never have believed, and it may
be that even you will not. But it is all truth--truth, I tell you!"
And on the last words his voice rose to a high-pitched, ragged scream.
Then, mastering his shattered nerves with an effort, he went on.
"You know why I went to Angkor, what I planned to do there. I went
up the Mekong by steamer, then hired natives to take me the rest of
the way in canoes. Up winding waterways they took me, through narrow
creeks and old canals, and out over a great lake, in which a forest lay
submerged. Then up another creek and finally by bullock-cart to Angkor
itself.
"There is no use trying to describe the place to you. I have seen most
of the great ruins of the past and the great buildings of the present,
but Angkor towers above them all, the most magnificent thing ever built
by the hands of men. It is a vast city of carven gray stone, a city
whose lacelike sculptured walls and crenelated battlements have looked
down for a thousand years on nothing but the jungle that hems it in,
and the silence and death that lie incarnate in itself. Literally acres
of ruined buildings, square miles of crumbling stone, and set in the
heart of that great mass of remnants, the palace, Angkor Thom, a great
ruin whose courts and walls and terraces lie as desolate and broken as
the city around them.
"A deep moat surrounds the city, and out over it leads a great
causeway, built of huge blocks of stone, a wide, level highway that
leads through the jungle for a short distance to the supreme glory of
the place, Angkor Wat, the gigantic temple. Unlike the palace and city,
the temple has not fallen into ruins but remains nearly the same as it
must have been when the city was living and splendid. It towers up to
a tremendous height, its dark, frowning walls looming far above the
green jungle around it. When I walked into it for the first time, the
mighty grandeur of the place was so awesome and compelling that I felt
presumptuous--ashamed. The stifling, brooding silence seemed to flow
down on me like a tangible wave, humbling me, dwarfing me.
"I spent my first two days in a superficial exploration of the palace
and city, wandering through the miles of crumbling streets and fallen
buildings. But I pass over that to the third day, when I started my
examination of Angkor Wat. All of that day I spent in the temple,
alone, for the natives feared to venture into it. Along its marching
walls life-sized figures were carved in exquisite relief, warriors,
kings and elephants, battles and ceremonies, literally miles of
lavished, delicate sculptures. I lingered with them, absorbed, until
the sun had set and the swift tropical darkness was descending, then
abruptly came to a realization of my surroundings and started for my
camp.
"Through the deepening shadows of the temple's halls I went, stumbling
here and there against fallen stones, and finally came with a slight
sensation of relief to the stone-paved courtyard in front of the
edifice, from which the great causeway led back to the city and to my
camp. It was quite dark, now, but I stopped for a moment there, since
the moon was just rising and the scene was one of perfect beauty--the
calm moonlight flooding over the silent ruins, the dark, looming walls
behind me, the black shadows that lay across the silver-lit courtyard.
For minutes I stood there, fascinated, but finally turned to go.
"I walked across the courtyard, then stopped abruptly and looked up.
A strange sound had come to my ears from above, a sound that was like
distant, shrill whistling. It hung for a moment, faint and eery, then
grew much louder, like a score of men whistling piercingly in different
keys, varied, tumultuous. I half expected to see birds passing above,
but there were none. The air had been heavy and still for hours, but
now a puff of wind smote me, a little, buffeting breeze that changed
suddenly to a hard wind and then to a raging gale that whipped the
sun-helmet off my head and nearly twisted me from my feet. And with
that sudden change, the whistling chorus above had changed also, had
waxed to a raging tumult of wind-shrieks, piercing, tempestuous!
Abruptly, now, there flashed into being in the air forty feet above
me--a thing!
"It was a swirling mass of dense gray vapor, looking in the moonlight
much like a drifting cloud of steam. But this smoky mass was alive
with motion of its own, spinning and interlacing, and from it came the
shrill chorus and the raging winds. And, too, I saw that somewhere
inside those shifting mists glowed three little circles of green light,
one set above the other two, three tiny, radiant orbs whose brilliance
stood out even in the mellow moonlight.
* * * * *
"Abruptly, as I stared up at the thing, those three circles of vivid
green luminescence changed to purple, no less brilliant. And at the
same instant, there came a change to the spinning mists around them.
Those mists seemed to contract, to shrink, to solidify, and then they
had vanished and in place of them hung a thing of solid matter, a
mass of what seemed to be gray, resilient flesh, and at the center
of which hung steadily the little triangle of purple lights. Nor was
this solid mass any more unchanging than the misty one had been, for
it seemed to have no one form, flashing with incredible speed through
a myriad half-glimpsed shapes. It folded and unfolded, contracted,
elongated, spun and writhed, a protean changing of shapes that my eyes
could scarcely follow. But always the three little orbs of purple hung
unchanged at its center.
"Scarcely more than a minute had elapsed since the thing first had
appeared above me, and now as I gazed up at it, stupefied, I sensed
dimly that the whistling sounds and the winds had died away. Then,
before my dazed mind could fully comprehend the strangeness of the
creature that hung in the air above me, that creature floated swiftly
down beside me, so near that I could have touched it. And out from
the changing, inchoate mass of it reached a long, twisting tentacle,
straight toward me!
"I staggered weakly back, and screamed. But that arm circled and
gripped me, then pulled me in toward the central mass of the thing.
It was cold to the touch, an utter, numbing cold, like the chill of
something from outer space, utterly alien to our earth and life.
That cold shock stabbed through me and paralyzed me, and I dangled
helplessly in the thing's grip, while at its center, seen, somehow,
_through_ the mass of the thing, the triangle of purple orbs seemed to
watch me.
"All this had been enacted in a few moments, and now the inexplicable
thing that held me began to rise again, to float up some distance
above the ground. It still gripped me tightly, and now the purple orbs
changed again to brilliant green, while again the solid, twisting mass
of the thing changed, expanding and swirling, until it was again the
drifting, spinning mass of vapor which I had first glimpsed. I floated
in those mists, gripped as tightly as ever by their unseen holds, and
now began again the shrill, piercing whistling, from all around me,
while a rising torrent of wind roared around the thing that held me.
"At the same time, glancing up, I saw the moon racing across the sky
above with incredible speed, bounding across the zenith like a shooting
star and sinking down in the west. Hardly had it disappeared when
there was an up-gush of gray light from the eastern horizon, and then
the sun leapt up, red and flaming, and hurtled across the sky with even
greater speed. I caught a glimpse of Angkor beneath, bathed in tropical
sunlight. And a half-minute before it had been deepest night!
"A deadly sickness seized me, and while I strove against it the sun
raced down into the west and it was night again, with the shining
moon again flashing across the sky with nightmare speed. Again it
disappeared and again the sun sprang up and rocketed headlong across
the zenith. And for the first time there came to my numbed brain some
realization of what was happening.
"This inexplicable thing that held me--this being of changing mists and
vapors--was taking me on through time. It was whirling me on into the
future, with some undreamed-of power of its own.
"The sun was racing across the sky with comet speed, now, a streak of
golden light, and day and night followed each other like the flipped
leaves of a book, faster and faster. In a few minutes they had become
indistinguishable, had merged into a green twilight in which I could
see but dimly the ground below. And even as we thus sped on through
time, with ever-increasing speed, the thing that held me began to move
through space also, and I caught a glimpse of ruined Angkor sliding
away from beneath me.
"The thundering roar of the winds grew even louder as we moved
simultaneously through time and space. I caught fragmentary glimpses
of land flashing by beneath, with tremendous speed. And all the while
I hung there in the grip of the thing, held by the smoky mist-spirals,
swinging helplessly around and around the three circles of radiant
green light at the thing's center.
"With a sudden surge of desperate courage, I tried to move in the
remorseless grip that prisoned me, endeavored to raise my right hand to
my belt, putting all my force into the effort. Slowly my hand came up,
inch by inch, struggling against the unseen grip of iron that grasped
me. It came up, with infinite slowness, until it was high enough to
grasp the automatic in my belt-holster. I clasped the pistol's stock
and threw off the safety catch, then, with another great effort, swung
up the pistol until it pointed directly at the triangle of radiant
orbs, and pulled the trigger.
"The report snapped out thinly above the thundering of the winds. And
instantly the grip of the unseen, vaporous arms around me relaxed,
releasing me utterly, and I plunged down through space.
"Down I fell, all of a hundred feet, and struck water, sinking down and
down into it, ever more slowly, then hurtling up to the surface again,
gasping for air. It was night, and above was no sign of the thing that
had held me, so I judged that it had gone on into time. The water I
swam in was salt, and I knew from the long, easy swells that I was in
the open sea. There was no shore in sight, nor any sign of one, so I
wasted no effort in swimming but strove only to keep afloat.
* * * * *
"For over two hours I floated, treading water easily, and had just
decided that it would be best to give over my useless efforts and sink
down to rest and peace, when a spark of light showed on the horizon,
a spark too low to be a star. It grew larger, coming nearer, until I
could make it out as one of the upper lights of a ship. In the course
it was following, it would pass me at some distance, so I struck out in
a direction that would bring me across its path.
"My hours in the water had told on my strength, though, and my
progress was so slow that the ship had nearly passed me when I came
within hailing distance of it. There were few lights on its decks, and
no answer to my frantic cries. But when it had passed a little beyond
me, I heard voices shouting and the rattle of a boat's tackle. I knew
then that I was saved.
"The ship proved to be an oil-tanker, bound from Hongkong to Galveston.
And as I found out, it had picked me up in the open Pacific, at a spot
some three hundred miles east of Manila. The thing that held me had
carried me that far, in space.
"I represented myself as the sole survivor of a wrecked tramp-steamer,
and was not questioned overmuch. I dared not tell my story to those
sailors, lest they prison me as a mad-man. I asked them a few discreet
questions, though, and received an answer to one that staggered me. For
I was no longer in my own year, the year in which I had been seized
there at Angkor. I was in a year three years later! Three years! And it
had seemed only a few minutes to me. I had been carried on, that far,
into time.
"I took my place as one of the crew, on the voyage to Galveston, and
worked my passage, though I was hard put to it to uphold my assertion
that I was a seaman. We sailed on, forging across the Pacific and
heading toward Panama. A night came when we were only a few hundred
miles west of the canal. I was stretched in a forecastle bunk, vainly
trying to sleep away the haunting fears that still filled me. The
night was quite calm, with only the throb of the engines and the
slap of waves on the hull breaking the silence. Then, faint and far,
but sounding to me like the thunder of doom, came a distant, eery
whistling, a piercing chorus that I knew well.
"It grew, it waxed to a tumult of roaring winds, while I lay crouched
in the bunk, trembling. It seemed to swoop down on the deck above, and
there rang out a great scream, a shriek of horror that burned into
my brain. The roaring winds began to lessen, to draw away. I ran up
onto the deck and looked wildly around. To the north, a little above
and beyond the ship, was a hazy mass that I glimpsed vaguely in the
moonlight, and that suddenly disappeared, still heading straight north.
And the whistling chorus of winds died away.
"I sank down on the deck, sick at heart. For I knew what I had seen,
knew that half-glimpsed thing to be the thing that had seized me at
Angkor, and from which I had freed myself. Two of the watch, the
only men on deck at the time, were missing, and all around me the
sailors who had poured up onto the deck were speculating as to their
disappearance, and the cause of the sudden, roaring winds. But I told
them nothing. I knew well that the thing that had snatched me away
before had come again to seize me, tracking me down, God knows how,
perhaps by some mystic mark or brand that its grip had sealed upon me.
I knew that it had come for me, and not finding me, had taken the two
men on deck at the time. But I said nothing.
"It was finally agreed by the ship's officers to report the event as
the loss of two sailors, swept overboard by a sudden gale. It went down
in the ship's log, thus, and we sailed on. But the crew was fearful,
whispering....
"The ship came safe to Galveston, though. The wages due me as a seaman
were enough to get me to New York. I came at once to your apartment,
and the rest you know.
"What is that thing that seized me, that enigmatic Raider through time?
God alone knows, if even He is aware of its existence. But I know that
it swept down on me through time and seized me, that it flashed with
me through those three years in almost as few minutes. And I know that
it has marked me for its victim and will come for me again, maybe in
pure revenge for that shot of mine that released me.
"Where is there refuge from a thing like that, that can speed through
time and space at will? Twice I have escaped it, but I fear I can not
escape it again, when it comes to claim me. And sooner or later, it
will come!"
_CHAPTER 3_