I had a confused vision of bronzed, black-bearded faces leaping toward
me, and I know that I struck out with my pistol-butt at these, but the
weapon was knocked from my grasp by a blow on the wrist, my hands were
seized from behind and pinioned, and I waited for the spear-thrust that
I expected.
It did not come. Those who held me turned to one who was evidently
their leader, a tall man with armor more rich than that of the others,
who carried no spear. They spoke to him, in a tongue strange to my
ears, evidently asking questions concerning our disposal. This leader
came nearer and inspected me, felt my muscles for a moment, then
snapped out a brief order. He made similar inspection of Lantin, gave
another order, and then the men behind me pushed me forward, toward
the city in the west, a prod from a spear-handle emphasizing their
commands. Lantin was similarly treated, walking beside me, but when I
attempted to speak to him, another prod from behind warned me that no
conversation between us was allowed.
So we marched on toward the city, our captors talking and jesting in
their own language. Twilight was descending on the land, now, darkening
quickly, and as we drew nearer toward the city, lights flared out
here and there on its heights, steady and brilliant lights of red and
yellow. And high above all these shone a single flashing beam of vivid
purple, which I knew must be placed on the top of the big building we
had seen from a distance.
We struck a road, smooth and wide and hard-surfaced, and marched along
it. In the broad fields on either side of this road were what appeared
to be great machines of some sort, that seemed to be rooting in the
ground, with a panting, throbbing sound, but I could see these only
dimly in the thickening dusk. And, too, we began to pass other men like
those who had captured us, bronzed, bearded men in the same armor,
who looked at us curiously and called out jests and greetings to our
captors.
Buildings began to line the road, and I saw that all of these were of
the same design, all being in the form of an erect cylinder, quite
windowless and unbroken of surface, except for a single open entrance
in their lower part. They were of white stone, I thought, glimmering
faintly in the twilight, and were of many differing sizes, but whatever
the size, all that we saw were of the same shape and proportions, that
of a thick cylinder, standing erect.
Out of the doorways of these buildings streamed ruddy light, and now
and then we passed one from which came shouting or laughter. More
and more of the armored men met and passed us. And there were other
men, not in armor, men black and brown and white and yellow, who were
clad in a single robe of white cloth and who walked stiffly, like
automatons. I shuddered as one of them brushed against me in passing,
for he had come near enough for me to glimpse his face, and it was
utterly repellent in the blankness of its expression. The eyes held no
intelligence at all, staring straight ahead or turning mechanically
from side to side, while the stiff movements, the rigid carriage of the
body and the obliviousness to all around them made these men seem more
dead than alive. All, or nearly all, were carrying tools or vessels of
some sort, and it was easy to see that they were slaves.
I noticed now, scattered here and there among the buildings, little
towers of metal on the top of which were placed globes of a gleaming
material like glass. The towers were found at even intervals along the
road, and each one could not have been less than thirty feet in height,
much like a miniature Eiffel Tower, while the shining globe on top of
each must have been five feet in diameter. Awhile I puzzled over their
nature and purpose, but forgot even these in the wonder of the city we
were now entering.
There was no wall or definite dividing line between the city and the
suburbs around it. As we went on, the buildings grew thicker, larger,
and the road became a street, a wide street that led directly toward
the looming central pile, which I now saw was of the same cylindrical
shape as all of the other buildings here. The white cylindrical
buildings now were set farther back from the road, or street, and were
very much closer to each other.
Overhead, aircraft were buzzing to and fro, flickering swiftly across
the sky. They seemed to rise from and alight on the roofs of the
cylindrical buildings, so that I could not glimpse their occupants.
There were throngs passing us in the street now, without attention,
crowds of the armored guards and the white-robed slaves. The street
itself was illuminated by glowing bulbs, set on top of metal pillars
along the way, which emitted a ruddy, pulsating light. It was the same
ruddy light that streamed out of the entrances of the buildings we
passed, but how it was produced I could not conjecture.
* * * * *
My mind swung sharply back to my own predicament, when our captors
suddenly halted in the street before a large building that was set some
distance back from the street, in a smooth expanse of green lawn. A
brief order was given and two of the guards seized me by my shoulders
and hustled me toward the building I have spoken of, while the rest
marched on down the street toward the gigantic central edifice, taking
Lantin with them. I saw him looking back as he went, and would have
given much to have been able to call out to him, but my guards gave me
no chance to do so, pushing me ahead of them toward the building in
front of us.
A high-arched entrance cut into the curving wall of the building, which
was one of the largest I had yet noted. Through this open door led a
broad flight of low steps, but my guards did not enter that way, taking
me some distance around the building's side to a smaller door that was
set in the wall close to the ground. Pushed ahead of them, I stumbled
inside and found myself in a long, smooth-walled corridor, down which
we went.
There were closed doors here and there along the hall's length, and in
front of the last one lounged three or four of the guards, who looked
up incuriously as we approached. My captors spoke a few words to these,
who nodded, and unlocked the door they guarded. A rough shove sent me
staggering through the door, and as I pitched forward on my face, I
heard it clang shut behind me.
I rose to my feet and looked around. The room itself was quite
unremarkable, about twenty feet square, walled with smooth stone, and
windowless, being lit by several of the ruddy-glowing bulbs that were
set in the ceiling. But the score or more of men who were in the room,
and who had started up at my sudden entrance, were of intense interest
to me.
Sinking down onto a bench against the wall, I regarded them. They were
extraordinary in appearance and expression. All were dressed in ragged
and torn costumes of cloth, save for one hulking fellow who wore a
tunic of tanned skins. I was surprized to see that all of them carried
sword or dagger at their belts, and some big battle-axes. Brown-skinned
and white-skinned, with one or two blacks, they were a fierce-faced
company, and after scrutinizing me for a second, went on pacing back
and forth across the room, for all the world like a den of caged
tigers. They spoke little, and glared as they passed one another.
While I stared at them, one of their number came up and seated himself
beside me. He was a slender, dark-haired young man, dressed in a ragged
coat of bottle-green trimmed in silver, with very tight knee-breeches
of the same material. Like the rest, he was hatless, and carried at his
belt a long, slender rapier. He caught my glance at his garments, and
smiled in so winning a fashion that I smiled back, involuntarily. Then
a wave of sudden warmth surged through me, for he spoke in English.
"Burn me," he drawled, in a soft, languid voice, "I don't blame you for
eyeing my clothes, but then, y'see, the tailors here are cursed poor."
I leaned toward him, eagerly. "You speak English!" I cried. "Then
how did you get here? What is this place, this city? And what are we
brought here for?"
At my rush of questions he drew back a little, frowning in a puzzled
manner. "What are we brought here for?" he repeated. "Why, man, you
know as well as I do, why we're here."
"Not I!" I said, and his frown deepened, as he doubtfully considered me.
"But you're from the pit," he said, "the same as the rest of us," and
he waved a hand toward the others in the room.
"The pit!" I repeated, puzzled, and he must have seen from my
expression that I did not understand him. An odd, calculating
light leaped into his eyes. "You are not of the guards," he said,
half-musingly, "and you say you are not of the pit. But if you came
from outside--"
"I was captured," I told him, "outside the city, and brought here. But
why?"
"You're here to fight," he said, shortly, and I started.
"Fight! With whom?"
"Why, with these," he answered, indicating again the score of men in
the room. "This is--"
Before he could finish the sentence, there was a sudden clanging of
metal and the door of the room swung open. A guard stepped in and
gave brief orders in his own tongue. At once the men around me began
to file out of the room, into the corridor. As I passed out, beside
my new-found friend, I saw that in the hall a heavy force of the
guards awaited us, some fifty men being ranged along its length. We
passed together down the corridor's length, but instead of leaving
the building by the door I had entered, we turned to the right and
proceeded up a long flight of steps, the guards following and
preceding us, in two separate companies.
As we went up those steps, I turned to my companion and asked him, "You
are English, aren't you?"
He nodded, and made a graceful half-bow. "Viscount Charles Denham, at
your service," he said in a low voice, "captain in the armies of his
Majesty, King George the Third."
The words were like a thunderclap in my ears. A soldier of King George
the Third? A man of a hundred and fifty years before my own time? And
here, fifteen thousand years in the future, in this strange city! And
these other prisoners, these strange, ragged figures!
But before I could collect my dazed thoughts, our company was marching
up the last few steps. Over the shoulders of those in front of me I
saw the walls of a great room, and the crimson light of the glowing
bulbs that illuminated it. There was a sound of crystal music, and
laughter--a high, ringing laughter that was very different from the
coarse mirth of the guards. Then we were surmounting the very last
steps, marching up and over them....
[Illustration: "Held in its shapeless form were men, who hung helpless
in its grasp."]
_CHAPTER 8_