A silence hung over the room when Cannell ceased to speak. I drew a
long breath and turned to Lantin, my brain awhirl, but already he was
calmly questioning the archeologist.
"This thing you call the Raider," he began; "I don't understand your
description very well, Cannell. Do you mean that it was just misty gas
or vapor, able to change into solid form at will, and change back? And,
withal, a living, intelligent thing?"
"I mean just that," Cannell told him. "The thing is undoubtedly a
sentient, living being of extraordinary intelligence and powers, able
to assume either a solid or gaseous form. The phenomenon of the three
shining orbs, changing from green to purple and back, is connected
with that change in form, I assume. And at the same time I believe
that triangle of the three lights to be the center of the thing's
consciousness and intelligence, its brain and sense organs.
"Such a thing is not impossible, Lantin," he went on. "You and I,
intelligent, living creatures, are composed of solid and liquid
elements, but there is no real reason why life and intelligence could
not be present in an entirely gaseous creature. And as I believe,
this creature only assumes the gaseous form when it is traveling
through time. The winds that accompany its passage through time are
undoubtedly caused by the fact that as it flashes on into a different
time, it leaves in the atmosphere a sudden vacuum, and the surrounding
atmosphere rushing in to fill this vacuum causes the gusts of wind."
"But where could the thing come from?" Lantin objected. "Where was it
taking you?"
Cannell's face darkened. "I believe that it comes from the far future,"
he said slowly. "Who can say what manner of creatures will inhabit
earth a million years from now? And it may be that this thing, a being
of some future age, has discovered a way to travel through time and
now sweeps back at will, snatching up luckless humans in every age.
The purpose of these raids, who can say? Maybe for victims or slaves
or food even. It is all a mystery, even to myself. One thing alone is
clear to me, that the thing does come from some future time, since it
was speeding back into the future with me when I escaped it."
I found a chance to interject a query. "But how?" I asked. "That's what
interests me, the method of traveling through time at will. I've heard
theories on that subject, but this actual accomplishment, this power
to race into past or future--have you no idea as to how that is done,
Cannell?"
He considered before answering. "The transformation into a gaseous
form when time-traveling is a significant detail," he said. "I have an
inkling of what power the Raider utilizes to speed through time. I was
in the thing's grip only for a few minutes, but I noticed some things,
even in that short time, that set me thinking, afterward. I formed a
rough theory concerning the method of time-traveling, and on the voyage
home I jotted down some notes concerning it, intending to investigate
the matter later."
Reaching into an inside pocket, he brought forth a little packet of
soiled envelopes and folded sheets. "My own idea about it--" he
began, then suddenly broke off speaking and sat motionless, listening
tensely. Astonished, we listened likewise, but the only sound was the
far dim roar of the city below, and the curtains at the open French
windows, billowing gently in a soft breeze. From an adjoining room came
the faint chime of a clock.
Relief dropped on Cannell's face, and its tense outlines relaxed. "I
thought I heard--" he murmured, then abruptly stopped and jumped
to his feet, his eyes wild. My heart gave a sudden great throb, for
through the open windows came the sound of a high, thin whistling, far
and faint and crystal-clear, an eery chorus of piercing knife-blades
of sound, that shrilled out louder and louder, swelling to a roaring
tumult of wind-sounds. The window-curtains whipped up madly, in a
buffeting gale, as through the windows came a breath of icy air.
Abruptly the lights of the room went out, plunging us into darkness.
There was a shout from Lantin: "The switch!" and I heard him running
toward it. Outside the wind-shrieks had risen to a thundering bellow,
and there were cries and running feet, somewhere in the building below
us. A dark, erect figure appeared in the open window, silhouetted
blackly against the brilliant lights of the distant streets. It poised
there a moment, then passed out onto the outside roof, walking stiffly
and unhumanly, like a puppet pulled by unseen strings.
"Cannell!" I cried; "get back!" I raced across the room toward the
window, and in the darkness collided with Lantin, who was making for
the same objective. We staggered, recovered our balance, rushed
together to the window, and then recoiled.
Standing at the roof's edge, darkly outlined against the city's
splendid brilliance, was Cannell, and down upon him from the upper air
was dropping--what? A changing, inchoate shape of gray, at the center
of which burned a little triangle of three radiant circles of purple
light, one above the other two. In the moment that the thing swept
down on Cannell, the roaring winds hushed for an instant, and we saw a
writhing, shapeless arm reach out from the central mass, grip Cannell
and draw him in. The gray mass hung for a moment, then the purple
lights flashed into green, and at the same time the thing had changed
into a swirling cloud of dense gray vapor, the three green orbs at
its center, and the roaring winds shouting again with renewed power.
The thing rose swiftly above the roof, holding Cannell, hung for a
moment above us, a tornado of whistling winds, then vanished like a
clicked-off cinema scene.
But as it disappeared before our eyes, as its raging, piercing winds
died away to a mere whisper, out from the empty air where it had been
rang an eery, fading cry, Cannell's voice, coming faintly down through
time.
"Lantin! Follow--follow--"
Then the last word, coming dimly to us like a ghostly echo out of space
and time, but with a world of fear and horror in it:
"The Raider!"
_CHAPTER 4_