THE CREATURE FROM
BEYOND INFINITY BY HENRY KUTTNER


POPULAR LIBRARY • NEW YORK

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Editorial Board and represent titles by the world's greatest authors.

POPULAR LIBRARY EDITION

Copyright, 1940, by Better PubUcations, Inc. Copyright (c) 1968 by Popular
Library, Inc.



PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

All Rights Reserved


CHAPTER I

The Beginning

Ardath opened his eyes, trying to remember why a blinding pain should be
throbbing within his skull. Above him was a twisted girder of yellow metal,
and beyond that, the inner wall of the space ship. What had happened?
It seemed scarcely a moment ago that the craft had been filled with a
confusion of shouted orders, quickly moving men, and the shriek of cleft
atmosphere as the ship drove down. Then had come the shock of
landing-blackness. And now?
Painfully Ardath dragged his slight, fragile body erect. All around him were
ruin and confusion. Corpses lay sprawled and limp, the bodies of those who had
not survived the terrible concussion. Strange men, slim and delicate, their
skins had been darkly tanned by the long voyage across space. Ardath started
hopefully when he saw that one of the bodies moved slightly and moaned.
Theronl Theron, the commander-highest in rank and wisdom-had survived. A wave
of gratefulness swept through Ardath. He was not alone on this new, unknown
world, as he had feared. Swiftly he found stimulants and bent over the
reviving man.
Theron's .gray, beardless face grew contorted. His pallid blue eyes opened. He
drew a lean hand over his bald head as he whispered.
"Ardath-"
A rocking shudder shook the ship, then suddenly died. "Who else is alive?"
Theron asked with painful effort, "I don't know, Theron," Ardath replied
softly.
"Find out."
Ardath searched the huge golden ship. He came back with despair on his drawn
harrowed features.
"You and I are the only ones left alive, Theron."
The commander gnawed at his lips.
"So. And I am dying." He smiled resignedly at Ardath's sudden protest. "It's
true, Ardath. You do not realize how old I am. For years we have gone through
space, and you are the youngest of us. Unshield a port. Let me see where we
are."
"The third planet of this System," Ardath said.


He pressed a button that swung back a shutter from a nearby port in the golden
wall. They saw nothing but darkness at first. Then their eyes became
accustomed to the gloom.
The ship lay beached on a dim shore, Blackly ominous the strange world loomed
through the gray murk of vague light that filtered through the cloudy sky. A
slow drizzle of rain was falling.
"Test the atmosphere," Theron commanded.
Ardath obeyed. Spectroscopic analysis, made from outer space, had indicated
that the air here was breathable. The chemical test confirmed this. At
Theron's request, Ardath opened a spacelock.
Air surged in with a queerly choking sulphurous odor. The two men coughed
rackingly, until eventually they became accustomed to it.
"Carry me out," the commander said quietly. His glance met and locked with
Ardath's as the younger man hesitated. "I shall die soon," he insisted gently.
"But first I must-I must know that I have reached my goal."
Silently Ardath lifted the slight figure in his arms. He splashed through the
warm waves and gently laid Theron down on the barren beach. The Sun, hidden
behind a cloud blanket, was rising in the first dawn Ardathhad ever seen.
A gray sky and sea, a dark shore-those were all he actually saw. Under
Ardath's)eet he felt the world shudder with the volcanic fires of creation.
Rain and tide had not yet eroded the rocks into sand and soil. No vegetation
grew anywhere. He did not know whether the land was an island or a continent.
It ros~e abruptly frcm the beach and mounted to towering crags against the
inland skyline.
Theron sighed. His thin fingers groped blindly over the rocky surface on which
he lay.
"You are space-born, Ardath," he said painfully. "You cannot quite realize
that only on a planet can a man find a home. But I am afraid. .' . ."
His voice died away. Then it rose again, strengthened.
"I am dying but there is something I must tell you first. Listen, Ardath . . .
You never knew your mother planet, Kyria. it is light-years away from this
world. Or it was. Centunes ago, we discovered that Kyria was doomed. A
wandering planetoid came so close that it would inevitably collide with us and
destroy our civilization utterly.
"Kyria was a lovely world, Ardath."


"I know," Ardath breathed. "I have seen the films in our records."
"You have seen our great cities, and the green forests a~xd fields-" An
agonizing cough rocked the dying commander. He went on hastily. "We fled. A
selected group of us unade this space ship and left Kyria in search of a new
home. But of hundreds of planets that we found, none was suitable. None would
sustain human life. This, the third planet of this yellow Sun, is our last
hope. Our fuel is almost gone. it is your duty, Ardath, to see that the
civilization of Kyria does not perish."
"But this is a dead world," the younger man protested.
"It is a young world," Theron corrected.
He paused, and his hand lifted, pointing. Ardath stared at the slow, sullen
tide that rippled drearily toward them. The gloomy wash of water receded. And
there on the rocky slope lay something that made him nod understandingly.
It was not large. A greasy, shining blob of slime, featureless and repulsive,
it was unmistakably alive, undeniably sentient!
The shinmiering globule of protoplasm was drawn back with the next wave. When
Ardath's eyes met Theron's, the dying man smiled triumphantly.
"Life! There's sun here, Ardath, beyond the clouds-a Sun that sends forth
energy, cosmic rays, the rays of evolution. Immeasurable ages will pass before
human beings exist here, but exist they will! Our study of countless other
planets enables us to predict the course of evolution here. From the
unicellular creatures will come sea-beings with vertebrae, then amphibiae, and
true reptiles.
"Then warm-blooded beasts will evolve from the flying reptiles and the
dinosaurs. Finally there will be ape-like men, wh& will yield the planet
to-true men!"
"But it will take millennia!"
"You must remain here," Theron stated. "How many of us survived the voyage
from Kyria? You must wait, Ardath, even a million years if it is necessary.
Our stasis ray kept us in suspended animation while we came across space. Take
the ship beyond the atmosphere. Adjust it to a regular orbit, like a second
satellite around this world. -
"Set the controls so you will awaken eventually, and be able to ~investigate
the evolutionary progress of this planet. You will wait a long time, I admit.
But finally you will find men."
"Men like us?"


Theron shook his head regretfully.
"No. Super-mentality is a matter of eugenically controlled breeding.
Occasionally a mental giant will be born, but not often. On Kymia we bred and
mated these mental giants, till
- eventually their progeny peopled the planet. You must do the same with this
world." -
"I will," Ardath consented. "But how-"
"Go through the ages. Do not stop till you find one of these mental giants. He
will be easily recognized, for, almost from infancy, he will be far in advance
of his contemporaries. He will withdraw from them, turning to the pursuit of
wisdom. He will be responsible for many of the great inventions of his time.
Take this man-or woman, perhaps-and go on into time, until you have found a
mental giant of the opposite sex.
"You could never mate with a female of this world, Ardath. Since you are from
another system, it would be biologically impossible. The union would be
sterile. This is your duty-find a super-mentality, take him from his own time~
sector, and find a mate for him in the more distant future. From that union
will arise a race of giants equal to the Kyrians. In a sense, you will have
been their foster-father."
Theron sighed and turned his head till his cheek lay against -the bare rock of
the shore.
"May the great Architect guide you, Ardath," he said softly. -
Abruptly his head slum1ed, and Theron -was dead. The gray waves whispered a
requiem. Ardath stood silent, looking down at the worn, tired face, now
relaxed in death.
He was alone, inflnit~ely far from the nearest human being. Then another
feeling came, making him realize that he was no longer a homeless wanderer of
space.
Never in his life had Ardath stood on a world's surface. The others had told
him of Kyria, and on the pictorial library screens he had seen views of green
and sunset lands that were agonizingly beautiful. Inevitably Ardath had come
to fear the black inmensity of the starlit void, to hate its cold, eternal
changelessness. He had dreamed of walldng on grassy, rolling plains. . .
That would come, for he knew Theron had been right. Cycads and ferns would
grow where Ardath now stood. Amphibiae would come out of the waters and
evolve, slowly of course, but with inexorable certainty. He could afford to
wait. -


First, though, he needed power. The great atomic engine of the ship was
useless, exhausted.
-     Atomic power resembled dynamite in that it needed some -outside source
of energy to get it started. Dynamite required a percussion cap. The engine of
the golden ship needed power. Solar energy? Lenses were required. Besides, the
cloudblanket was an insurmountable handicap, filtering out most of the
necessary rays. Coal? It would not exist here for ages.
A tremble shook the ground, and Ardath nodded thoughtfully. There was power
below the power of seething lava, enormous pressures, and heat that could melt
solid rock. Could it be harnessed?
Steam . . . a geyser! That would provide the necessary energy to start the
atomic motor. After that, anything would be possible.
With a single regretful glance at the dead Theron, Ardath set out to explore
the savage new world.
For two days and nights he hunted, growing haggard and w~ea1y. At last he
found an area of lava streams, shuddering rock, and geysers. Steam feathered
up into the humid air, and to the north a red glow brightened the gray sky,
Ardath stood for a while, watching. His quest was ended. Long weeks of arduous
work still lay ahead, but now be had no doubt of ultimate success. The steam
demons would set the atomic motor into the operation. After that, he could rip
ores from the ground and find chemicals. But after that?
The ship must be made spaceworthy again, though not for another long voyage.
Such a course would be fruitless. Of all the planets the Kyrians had visited,
only this world was capable of supporting life.
As yet, mere cells of blind, insensate protoplasm swarmed in the sullen seas,
but those cells would develop. Evolution would work upon them. Perhaps in a
million years human beings, intelligent creatures, would walk this world.
Then, one day, a super-mentality would be born, and Ardath would find that
kindred mind. He would take that mental giant into the future, in search of a
suitable mate. After dozens of generations there would arise a civilization
that would rival that of Kyria-his home planet now utterly destroyed without
trace. -
Time passed as Ardath worked. He blasted out a grave for Theron on the shore
where the old Kyrian had died. He repaired the golden craft. Tirelessly he
toiled.


Five months later, th~é repaired space ship rose, carrying its single
passenger. Through the atmosphere it fled. It settled into an orbit, became a
second, infinitesimal moon revolving around the mother planet.
Within it Ardath's robot machinery began to operate. A ray beamed out,
touching and bathing the man's form, which was stretched on a low couch.
Slowly consciousness left Ardath. The atomic structure of his body was subtly
altered. Electrons slowed in their orbits. Since they emitted no quanta,
Ardath's energy was frozen in
-~ the utter motionlessness of stasis. Neither -alive nor dead, he slept. -
The ray clicked off. When Ardath wakened, he would see a different world older
and stranger. Perhaps it would even be peopled by intelligent beings.
Silently the space ship swept on. Far beneath it a planet shuddered in the
titanic grip of dying fires. The rains poured down, eroding, endless. The
tides flowed and ebbed. Always the cloud veil shrouded the world that was to
be called Earth. Amid the shattering thunder of deluges, new lands rose and
continents were formed.
Life, blind, hungry and groping, crawled up on the beaches, where it basked
for a time in the dim sunlight.




ctIAPTER II

- Yow~h

On August 7, 1924, an eight-year-old boy caused a panic in a Des Moines
theater.
His name was Stephen Court. He had been born to a theatrical family of
mediocre talent-the Cra±y Courts, they were billed. The act was a combination
of gags, dances and humorous songs. Stephçn traveled with his parents on tour,
when they played one-night stands and small vaudeville circuits. In -1924,
vaudeville had not yet been killed by the films. It was
the beginning of the Jazz Age.
Stephen was so remarkably intelligent, even as a child, that he was soon
incorporated into the act as a "mental wizard." He wore a miniature cap and
gown, and was introduced by his parents at the end of their turn.
"Any date-ask him any historical date, my friends, and he


will answer! The gentleman in the third row. What do you' want to know?"
- And Stephen would answer accurately. When did Columbus discover America?
When was the Magna Charta signed? When was the Battle of Hastings? When was
Lafayette born?
"Mathematical questions? You, there-" -
Stephen would answer. Mathematics was no riddle for him, nor algebra. The
value of piP He knew it. Formulas and equations slipped glibly from his
tongue. He stood on the stage in the spotlight, his small face impassive, a
small, dark-haired child with curiously luminous brown eyes, and answered all
questions.
He read omnivorously every book he could manage to obtain. He was coldly
unemotional, which distressed his mother, and he hid his thoughts well.
Then, on that August night, his life suddenly changed.
The act was almost over. The audience was applauding wildly. The Courts stood
on each side of the boy, bowing. And Stephen stood motionless, his strange,
glowing eyes staring out into the gloom of the theater.
"Take your bows, kid," Court hissed from the side of his mouth.
But the boy didn't answer. There was an odd tensity in his rigid posture. His
expressionless face seemed strained. Only in his eyes was there life, and a
terrible fire.
In the theater, a whisper grew to a murmur and the applause died. Then the
murmur swelled to a restrained roar, until someone screamed:
"Fire!" -
Court glanced around quickly. He could see no signs of smoke or flame. But he
made a quick gesture, and the-orchestra leader struck up a tune. Hastily the
man and woman went into a routine tap dance.
"Steve!" Court said urgently. "Join in!"
But Stephen just stood there, and through the theater the roar rose to -
individual screams of panic. The audience no longer watched the stage. They
sprang up and fought their wayto the exits, cursing, pushing, crowding.
Nothing could stop it. By sheer luck no one was killed. But in ten minutes the
theater was empty-and there had been nosignbf a fire.
In his dressing room, Court looked queerly at his son.
"What was wrong with you tonight, kid?" he asked, as he removed greasepaint
from his face with cold cream.


"Nothing," Stephen said abstractedly.
"Something funny about the whole thing. There wasn't any

Stephen sat on a chair, his legs swinging idly.
"That magician we played with last week-" he began.
"Yeah?"
"I got some ideas from him." -
"Well?" his father urged.
"I watched him when he hypnotized a man from the audience. That's all it was.
I hypnotized the entire audience to-
- night."
"Oh, cut it out," Court said, grinning.
"It's trues The conditions were right. Everyone's attention was focused on me.
I made them think there was a fire."
When Court turned and looked at the boy, he had an odd feeling that this was
not his son sitting opposite him. The round face was childish, but the eyes
were not. They were cold, watchful, direct.
Court laughed without much conviction.
"You're crazy," he said, turning back to the light-rimmed mirror. -
"Maybe I am," Stephen said lightly. "I want to go to school. Will you send
me?"
"I can't afford it. Anyway, you're too big an attraction, Maybe we can manage
later."
Stephen did not argue. He rose and went toward his mother's dressing room;'but
he did not enter. Instead, - he turned and left the theater.
He had determined to run away.
Stephen already knew that his brain was far superior to the average. It was as
yet unformed, requiring knowledge and capable training. Those he could never
get through his parents. He felt no sorrow or pity on leaving them. His cool
intellect combined with the natural cruelty of childhood to make him
unemotional, passionlessly logical.
But Stephen needed money, and his youth was a handicap. No one would employ a
child, he knew, except perhaps as a newsboy. Moreover, he had to outwit his
parents, who would certainly search for their son.
Strangely there was nothing pathetic about Stephen's small figure as he
trudged along the dark street. His iron singleness of purpose and his ruthless
will gave him a certain incongruous dignity. He walked swiftly to the railroad
station.
On the way he passed a speakeasy. -A man was lying in the


gutter before the door, an unshaved derelict, grizzled of- hair and with worn,
dissolute features. He was mumbling drunkenly and striving helplessly to rise.
-
Stephen paused to watch. Attracted by the silent gaze, the man looked up. As
the two glances met, inflexible purpose grew in the boy's pale face.
"Wanna-drink," the derelict mumbled. "Cotta-they won't give old Sammy a drink.
. . ."
Stephen's eyes again grew luminous. They seemed to bore into the watery eyes
of the hobo, probing, commanding. -
"EhP" the drunkard asked blankly.
Sammy's voice died off uncertainly as he staggered erect. Stephen gripped his
arm, and the two went down the street In a dark doorway they paused.
The foggy, half-wrecked brain of the tramp was no match for Stephen's hypnotic
powers. Sammy listened as the boy talked.
"You're catching a freight out of town. You're taking me with you. Do you
understand?"
"Ehr Sammy asked vaguely.
In a monotonous voice the boy repeated his commands. When the drunkard finally
understood, the two headed for the railway station.
Stephen's plans were made. To all appearance, he was a mere child. He could
not possibly have fulfilled his desires alone. The authorities would have
returned him to his parents, or - he would have been sent to a school as - a
public charge. What man could recognize in a young boy an already blossoming
genius? Stephen's super-mentality was seriously handicapped by his immaturity.
-
He needed a guardian, purely nominal, to satisfy the prejudices of the world.
Through Sammy he could act. Sammy would be his tongue, his hands, his legal
representative. Men would be willing to deal with Sammy, where they would have
laughed at a child. But first the tramp would have to be metamorphosed into a
"useful citizen."
That night they rode in a chilly boxcar, headed East. Hour after hour Stephen
worked on the brain of his captive. Sammy must be his eyes, his hands, his
provider.
Once Sammy had been a mechanic, he revealed under Stephen's relentless
probing. The train rolled on through the darkness, the wheels beating a
clicking threnody toward the East
It was not easy, for the habits of years had weakened


$ammy's body and mind. He was a convinced tramp, lazy and content to follow
his wanderlust. But always Stephen drove him on, arguing, commanding,
convincing. Hypnosis played a large part in the boy's ultimate success.
Sammy got a job, much against his will, and washed dishes in a cheap
restaurant for a few weeks. He shaved daily and consistently drank less.
Meanwhile Stephen waited, but he did not wait in idleness. He spent his days
visiting automobile agencies and studying the machines. At night he crouched
in a cheap tenement room, sketching and designing. Finally he spoke to Sammy.
"I want you to get another job. You will be a mechanic in an automobile
factory." He watched Sammy's reaction.
"Aw, I can't, Steve," the man protested. "They wouldn't even look at me, Let's
hit the road again, huh?"
"Show them these," Stephen ordered, extending a sheaf of closely written
papers and drawings. "They'll give you a

At first the foreman told Sammy to get out, after a glance at his red-rimmed
eyes and weak, worn face. But the papers were a magic password. The foreman
pondered over them, bewilderedly scrutinized Sammy, and went off to confer
with one of the managers.
"The man's good!" he blurted. "He -doesn't look it, but he's an expert
mechanic, just the kind of man we need. Look at these improvements hip's
worked out! This wiring change will save us thousands annually. And this gear
ratio. It's new, but it might work. I think-"
"Send him in," the manager said hastily.
Thus Sammy got his job. Actually he wasn't much good, but every month or two
he would show up with some new improvement, some unexpected invention, that
got him raises instead of dismissal. Of course Stephen v~as responsible for
all this. He had adopted Sammy.
- Stephen saw to it that they moved to a more convenient apartment, and now he
went to schooL Needing surprisingly little sleep, he spent most of his time
studying. There was so much to learn, and so little time! To acquire the
knowledge he wanted, he needed more and more money to pay for tutoring and
equipment. -
The years passed with a peaceful lack of haste. Sammy drank little now, and
took a great deal of interest in his work. lInt he was still a tramp at heart,
eternally longing for the


open road. Sometimes he would try to slip away, but Stephen was always too
watchful. -
At last the boy was ready for the next step. It was then early in 1927. After
months of arduous toil, he bad completed several inventions which he thought
valuable. He had Sammy patent them, and then market them to the highest
bidders. -
The result was more money than Stephen had expected. He made Sammy resign his
job, and the two of them retired to a country house. He brought along several
tutors, and had a compact, modern laboratory set up. When more money was
required, the boy would potter around for a while. Inevitably he emerged with
a new formula that increased the already large annual income.
Tutors changed as Stephen grew older and learned more. He attended college for
a year, but found he could apply his mind better at home. He needed a larger
headquarters, though. So they moved to Wisconsin and bought a huge old
mansion, which he had renovated.
His quest for knowledge seemed endless, yet he did not neglect his health. He
went for long walks and exercised mightily. When he grew to manhood, he was a
magnificent specimen, strong, well formed and handsome. But always, save for a
few occasional lapses, he was coldly unemotional.
Once he had detectives locate his parents, and anonymously arranged to provide
a large annual income for them. But he would not see either his father or
mother.
"They would mean emotional crises," he told Sammy. "There would be
unnecessary. arguments. By this time they have forgotten me, anyway."
"Think so?" Sammy muttered, chewing on the stem of his ancient pipe. His
nut-brown, wrinkled face looked rather puzzled under his stiff crop of white
hair. "Well, I never did think you was human, Stevie."
He shook his head, put the pipe away, and pottered off in search of his rare
drinks. Stephen returned to his work.
What was the purpose of these years of intensive study? He scarcely knew. His
mind was a vessel to be filled with the clear, exhilarating liquor of
knowledge. As Sammy's system craved alcohol, so Stephen's brain thirsted for
wisdom. Study and experiment were to him a delight that approached actual
ecstasy. As an athlete gets keen pleasure from the exercise of his well
trained body, so Stephen exulted in the exercise of his mind.

Unimaginable eons before, in the teeming seas of a psi-
- meval world, life-forms had fed their blind hunger. That was appetite of the
flesh.
Stephen's hunger was the appetite of the mind. But it also made him blind, in
a different way. He was a godlike man, and he was-unhuman.
By 1941 he was the greatest scientist in the world.




CHAPTER III

The Earth-born

Before man created gods, Ardath was. In his space ship, swinging silently
around the world, he slept as the ages went past. . .
Sometimes he woke and searched, always in vain, for intelligent life in the
land below. The road of evolution was long and bloody.
Dark weariness shrouded Ardath as he saw the vast, mindless, terrible
behemoths of the oceans. Monsters wallowed into the swamps. The ground shook
beneath the tread of tyrant lizards. Brontosaurs and pterodactyls lived and
fed and -died.
There were mammals-oehippus the fleet and three-toed, and a tiny marsupial iif
which the flame of intelligence glowed feebly, But the titan reptiles ruled.
Mammals could not survive in this savage, thundering world.
Forests of weeds an~I bamboo towered in a tropical zone that stretched almost
to the poles. Ardath pondered, studied for a time in his laboratory-and the
Ice Age came.
Was Ardath responsible? Perhaps. H)s science was not Earthly, and his powers
were unimaginable. The ice mountains swept down, blowing their frigid breath
upon the forests and the reptile giants.
Southward the hegira fled. It was the Day of Judgment for the idiot colossi
that had ruled too long.But the mammals survived. Shuddering in the narrow
equatorial belt, they starved and whimpered. But they lived, and they evolved,
while Ardath slept again. . .
When he awoke, he found beast-men, hairy and ferocious. They dwelt in
gregarious packs, ruled by an Old Man who had proved himself strongest of the
band.
But always the chill winds of the icelands tore at them as they crouched in
their caves. - -
Ardath found one, wiser than the rest, and taught him the use of fire. Then
the alien man sent his ship arrowing up from Earth, while flames bcgan to burn
wanly before cave-mouths. In grunts and sign language the story was told. Ages
later, man would tell the tale of Prometheus, who stolefire from the very gods
of heaven.
Folk-lore is filled with the legends of men who visited the gods-the Little
People or the Sky-dwellers-and returned with strange powers. Arrows and
spears, the smelting of ores, the sowing and reaping of grain. . . . How many
inventions could be traced to Ardath?
But at last Ardath slept for a longer time than ever before, and then he
awoke.
Dark was the city. Flambeaux were numerous as fireflies in the gloomy steets.
The metropolis lay like a crouching beast on the shore, a vast conglomeration
of stone, crude and colossal.
The ship of Ardath. hung far above the city, unseen in- the darkness of the
night. Ardath himself was busy in his laboratory, working on a curiously
constructed device that meassured the frequency and strength of mentality.
Thought created electrical energy, and Ardath's machine registered the power
of that energy. Delicately he sent an invisible narrow-wave beam down into the
city far beneath. -
On a gauge a needle crept up, halted, dipped, and mounted again. Ardath reset
a dial. Intelligent beings dwelt on Earth now, but their intelligence was far
inferior to Ardath's. He was searching for a higher-level.
The needle was inactive as Ardath swept the city with his ray. Useless! The
pointer did not even quiver. The mental giant Ardath sought was not here,
though this was the greatest metropolis of the primeval ivorld. -
But suddenly the needle jerked slightly. Ardath halted the ray and turned to a
television screen. Using the beam as a carrier, he focused upon a scene that
sprang into instant visibilHe saw a throne of black stone upon which a woman
sat.
Tall and majestic, an Amazon of forty or more, she had lean, rugged features,
and wore plain garments of leather.
Guards flanked her, gigantic, stolid, armed with spears. Before the throne a
man stood, and it was at this man that
- Ardath stared.

For months the Kyrian's ship had scoured the skies, searching jungles and
deserts. Few cities existed. On the northern steppes, shaggy beast-men still
dwelt in caves, fighting the mammoth. But the half-men and the hairy elephants
were rapidly degenerating. In mountain lakes were villages built on stilts and
piers sunken into the mud, but these clans were barbarous. Only on this island
were there civilization and intelligence, though lamentably -lower than
Ardath's own level.
The man from space watched the wisest human on this primitive Earth.
In chains the Earthnian stood before the black stone. He was huge, massively
thewed, with a bronzed, hairy skin showing through the rags he wore. His face
resembled that of a beast, ferocious with hatred. Amber cat's-eyes glared from
beneath the beetling brows. The jutting jaw was hidden by a wiry beard that
tangled around the - nose that was little more than a snout.
Yet in that brute body, Ardath knew, dwelt amazing intelligence. Shrewdness
and cunning were well masked by the hideous face and form.
What of the queen? Curious to know, Ardath tested her with his ray. She, too,
was more intelligent than most of the savages.
"These two are enemies," Ardath thought. "And -I imagine
that the man faces danger or death. Well, what is that to me?
I cannot live in a time where all are barbarians. It is best that
I sleep again."
Yet he hesitated, one hand resting lightly on the controls that *ould send the
ship racing up into space. The barren loneliness of the void, the slow
centuries of his dark vigil, crept with icy tentacles into his mind. He
thought of the equally long, miserably lonely future. -
"Suppose I-sleep again and wake in a dead world? It could happen, for my own
home planet was destroyed. How could I face another search through space?
Theron and the rest had each other. . . ."
He turned back again to watch the two people on the screen.
"They are intelligent, after a fashion, and they would be companions. If I
took them with me, and we woke in a lifeless time, they could bring forth a
new race which I could train eugenically into the right pattern."
The decision was made. Ardath would sleep again in his ship-but this time not
alone. -

He glanced at the screen, and his eyes widened. A new -factor had entered the
problem. Hastily he turned to a compli- -
- cated machine at his side.
      *     *     *

As Thordred the Usurper stood before the throne of his queen, his savage face
was immobile. Weaponless, fettered, he nevertheless glared with implacable
fury at the womar~ who had spoiled his plans.
Zana met his gaze coldly. Her harsh features were darkly somber. -
"Well?" she asked. "Have you anything to say to me?"
"Nothing," Thordred grunted. "I have failed. That is all." The huge, almost
empty throne room echoed his words eerily. -
"Aye, you have failed," the queen said. "And there is but one fate for losers
who revolt. You tried to force me from my throne, and instead you stand in
chains before me. You have lost, so you must die." -
- Thordred's grin mocked her calm decision.
"And a woman continues to rule our land. Never in history has this shame been
put upon us. Always we have been ruled by men-warriors!"
"You call me weakling!" Zana snarled at him. "By all the
gods, you are rash, Thordred. You know well that I've never
shirked battle, and that my sword has been swift to slay. I
am strong as a man and more cunning than you." -            -
"Yet you are a woman," Thordred taunted recklessly. "Kill me, if you wish, but
you cannot deny your sex."
A shadow darkened Zana's face as she glared venomously
at her mocker.          --- -
"Aye, I shall kill you," she said. "So slowly that you will beg for a merciful
death. Then the vultures will pick your carcass clean on the Mountain of the
Gods."
Thordred suddenly shouted with laughter.
"Save your words, wench. It is just like a woman to threaten with words. A
man's vengeance is with a spear, swift and sudden. I-"
He paused, and a curious light grew in his amber eyes. - His -great body
tensed as Thordred listened.
In the distance, a tumult grew louder and louder, like the beating of the sea.
Suddenly it was thundering through the throne room.
Zana sprang to her feet, her lips parted in astonishment.

The vast doors at the end of the room burst inward. Through the portal poured
a yelling mob.
"Thordred!" they roared. "Ho, Thordred!"
The giant grinned victoriously at Zana.
"Some are still faithful to me, it seems. They would rather see a man on the
throne-"
A blistering curse burst from Zana's lips. She snatched a spear from a guard
and savagely drove its point at the prisoner. But Thordred sprang aside,
laughing, the muscles rolling effortlessly under his tawny skin.
He set his foot on the links of the chain that bound his wrists. His body
arched like a - bow. The metal snapped asunder, and Thordred the Usurper was
free!
The guards near the throne leaped at him. He ducked under a swift spear at the
same instant that his fist smashed a face into a bloody ruin. And then the mob
surrounded him, lifted him, bore him back.
"Slay him!" Zana shrilled. "Slay him!"
The mob swept back, out of the hail, through the great doors -and into the
street.
But now Zana's cried brought a response. Armed soldiers rushed in through a
dozen portals. They raced after the escaping prisoner, with Zana fearlessly
leading them.
It was sunset. The western sky flamed blood-red. Down the Street the crowd
seethed, to halt in an open plaza. Grimly menacing, they turned at Jay,
Thordred at their head. He towered above the others with his chains dangling
from his
-~ wrists and ankles.
Zana's men formed into a sizeable army, filling the street from side to side.
--
Arrows flew, hissing at the angry, triumphant mob. Over the city the low,
thunderous muttering grew louder.
"Revolt! Revolt!"
It was civil war. -
But the conflict was not yet in contact. A space still lay between the two
forces. Only spears and arrows had crossed it.
"Charge!" Zana shouted. "Slay them all!"
Grinning, Thordred raised high his lance and shook it deflantly.
The queen's soldiers drew erect, and like a thundercloud they began to move.
Abruptly they were sweeping forward, irresistible, a tidal wave bristling with
steel barbs. The pounding of their shod feet hammered loud on the stones, In
the forefront raced Zana, her harsh face twisted with fury.

Thordred let fly his spear. It missed its mark. At the last moment the giant
had hesitated, and his gaze went up to the western sky. Hj~ jaw dropped in
awe. For the first time, Thordred was afraid. A scream rose, thin and wailing.
"Demons!" someone cried. "Demons!"
The soldiers slowed involuntarily in their charge, then one by one they
halted. Struck motionless with fearful ~vonder, every man stood gaping toward
the west.
Against the blood-red sunset loomed actual demons!
Giants, scores of feet tall, they were. Titans whose heads towered above the
city's walls. A whole army of the monsters loomed black against the scarlet
sky. These were not men! Shaggy, hump-shouldered, dreadful beings more human
than apes but unmistakably beasts, they came thundering down npon the city.
The frightful masks twisted in ferocious hunger. They swept forward- No one
noticed that their advance made not the slightest
sound. Panic ~fruck the mobs. Both sides dropped their weapons to flee. -
From the sky a great, shining globe dropped. It hovered above the plaza. Two
beams of light flashed down from it. One struck Thordred, bathing him in
crawling radiance. The other caught Zana.
The man and the woman alike were held motionless. Frozen, paralyzed, they were
swept up, lifted int5 the air. When they reached the huge globe, they seemed
to disappear.
The sphere then rose, dwindled quickly to a speck and was gone.
Surprisingly the giants had also vanished.
Ardath adjusted the controls. Sighing, he turned away. The ship was back in
its orbit, circling the Earth. It would not deviate from that course for
centuries, until the moment Ardath's hand moved its controls.
He picked up a small metal box, stepped out of the laboratory and closed the
panel. On the floor at his feet lay the unconscious forms of Zana and
Thordred. Ardath set down the box.
This would be a new experiment, one that he had never tried. He could not
speak the language of these Earthlings, nor could they speak his. But
knowledge could be transmitted from one brain to another. Thought patterns
were a form of energy, and that could be transferred, just as a matrix may
stamp out duplicates. First, the man. . .


Ardath opened the black box, took out a circular metallic
band and adjusted it about the sleeping Thordred's head. A
similar band went about his own. He pressed a switch, felt a
stinging, tIngling sensation within his skulL
He removed the metal bands, replaced them and waited patiently. Would the
experiment work? His lips shaped unfamiliar syllables. He had learned
Thordred's language-but could the undeveloped brain of the Earthling be
equally receptive?
Thordred groaned and opened his eyes. He stared up at Ardath. Into those amber
eyes came a curious look that might have been amazement, but which was
certainly not fear.
"You are not hurt," Ardath said in Thordred's harsh, primitive language. "Nor
will you be harmed."
The Earthling stood up with an effort, breathing hoarsely. He took an unsteady
step, reeled, collapsed with a shattering crash upon the thought transference
apparatus. He lay silent ai~d unmoving, an utterly helpless strong man.
No expression showed on Ardath's face, though the work of weeks had been
ruined. The device could be built again, though he did not know if it should
be. Had it been successful?
Thordred shuddered, rolled over. Painfully he rose and leaned weakly against
the wall. His amber eyes rested puzziedly on Ardath as he asked a question in
the Kyrian's soft language, which grated from his crude throat.
"Who are you, a god or idemon?"
Ardath smiled with satisfaction, for all was going welL He must explain
matters to this Earthling to calm his fears. Later, he would rebuild the
machine and teach Zana his own tongue. Then the three could sleep, for
centuries if necessary.
But Ardath did not know that his device had worked too
well. It had transferred knowledge of his- own language to
Thordred's brain, yet it had transferred more than that. All of
Ardath's memories had been transmitted to the mind of the
Earthling!
At that moment, Thordred's wisdom was as great as that of his captor. Though
he had not Ardath's potentiality for learning more, unearthly, amazing wisdom
had been impressed on his brain cells. Thordred had smashed the machine, not
through accident, but with coldly logical purpose. It would not do for Zana to
acquire Ardath's wisdom also.
With an effort, Thordred kept an expression of stupid won-


der on his face. He must play his role carefully. Ardath must not yet suspect
that another man shared his secrets.
Ardath was speaking, carefully explaining things that his captive already
knew. While Thordred seemed to listen, he swiftly pondered and discarded
plans. Zana must die, of course. As for sleeping for centuries- Well, it was
not a pleasant thought. Ardath must be slain, so Thordred could return to
Earth, with new knowledge.
"The giants you saw in the sky," said Ardath, "were not real. They were
three-dimensional projections, enlarged by my apparatus. I recorded the
originals of those beings ages ago, when they actually lived and fought
cave-bears and saber-toothed tigers."
No, they were merely images, but men had seen them and remembered. The panic
in the city below had died. In its place grew superstitious dread, fostered by
the priests. Time passed, and neither Zana nor Thordred returned. New rulers
arose to sit upon the black throne. -
But on the Mountain of the Gods, men toiled under the lash of the priests.
Monstrous images of stone rose against the sky, gap-mouthed, fearsome images
in crude similitude of the devils who had come out of the sunset.
"They may return," the priests warned. "But the stone giants on the mountain
will frighten them away. Build them higher! They will guard our city."
On the peak the blind, alien faces glared ever into the sunset. And the days
fled into years, and the dark centuries shrouded Earth. Continents crumbled.
The eternal seas rose and washed new shores.
But the blind gods stayed to guard that which no longer needed guarding. And
still they watch, those strange, alien statues on Easter Island.




CHAPTER IV

Growth

New Year's Day, 1941, was a momentous hour for Stephen Court. Most of
December, 1940, he had spent in his laboratories, engrossed with a task the
nature of which he explained to no one. The great Wisconsin mansion, where he

lived with his staff, had been metamorphosed into a fortress of science,
though from the outside it resembled merely an antique, dilapidated structure.
But nearby villagers viewed
-with suspicion the activity around Court's home.
The local post-office was deluged with letters and packages. At all hours
automobiles arrived, carrying - cryptic burdens for Court.
Slyly the villagers questioned Sammy, for he often wandered inta the
combination store and post office, to sit by the stove and puff great, reeking
fumes from his battered pipe. Sammy had not changed much with the years. His
hair had turned white, and there were merely a few more creases in his brown
face. Since moving to Wisconsin, Stephen had relazed the anti-liquor
restriction, but Sammy had learned the value of moderation.
"What's going on up at your placer' the storekeeper asked him, proffering a
bottle. -
Sammy drank two measured gulps and wiped his lips.
- "The Lord only knows," he sighed. "It's way beyond me. Stevie's a swell boy,
though. You can bet on that."
"Yeah!" retorted somebody, with an angry snort. "He's a
cold-blooded fish, you mean. The boy ain't human. He's got
ice-water in his veins. Comes and goes without so much as a
howdy-do." - -
"He's thinking," Sammy defended sturdily. "Cot a lot on his mind - these days,
Stevie has. He gets about two hours' sleep a night."
"But what's he doin'r'
"I don't know," admitted Sammy. "Inventing something, maybe." -~
"More than likely he'll blow us all up one of these
fine days," grunted the storekeeper. The loungers around the -
stove nodded in agreement. "Here's the- train coming in.
Hear itr'   -
Sammy settled himself more comfortably. "There ought to be a package for
Stevie, then."
There was. The old man took the parcel -and left the station. He stood for a
time, watching the train disappear into the distance. Its whistle sang a
seductive song that aroused nostalgia in Sammy's bosom. He sighed, remembering
the old days when he had been a hungry, carefree bindle-stiff. Well, he was
better off now-well fed and cared for, without any worries. But it was nice to
hear a train whistlG once in awhile. . . .

He climbed into the' roadster -and zoomed off toward the mansion. Ten minutes
later he let himself into the hall, to be met by an anxious-eyed girl in a
white uniform.
"Did it corner' she asked.     -
"Sure, Marion. Here it is." -
He gave her the parcel. Holding it tightly, she turned and hurried away.
Since her arrival three years ago, Marion Barton had become a fixture in the
house. She had been hired, at first, as a temporary laboratory assistant,
during the absence of the regular one. But she had interested Court who saw
surprising capabilities in her. -
The fact that Marion was altogether lovely-slim, brown-eyed, dark-haired, with
a peach complexion and remarkably kissable lips-meant nothing at all to Court.
He merely catalogued her as a perfect physical specimen, thoroughly healthy,
and concentrated on the more interesting occupation of investigating her mind.
What he found there pleased him.
"She's intelligent," he told Sammy, "and she is meticulously careful. I've
never seen her make a mistake. She's such a perfect assistant for me - that we
work in complete harmony. The girl seems to know exactly what I want, whether
to hand me a scalpel or a lens, and she's completely unemotional. I shall keep
her on, Sammy, and train her."
"Uh-huh," said the old man, nodding wisely. "She does all that, and she's
completely unemotional, eh? Well, maybe so. Sure she ain't in love with you,
Stevier'
"Rot!" Court snapped, but it made him think it was necessary to warn Marion.
"I'll pay you well," he explained to her, "and give you an invaluable
training. But I have no time for emotional unbalance. I cannot afford
distractions. Do you understand me?"
"Well," Marion observed with desperate levity, "I'll wear horn-rimmed glasses
if you want, and hoop-skirts if my legs distract you."
"Not at all. I merely mean that there must be no question of
any-well-infatuation."
Marion was silent for a moment, though her eyes sparkled dangerously.
"All right," she said quietly. "I won't fall in love with you, Mr. Court. Is
that satisfactory?"
"Quite," Court said.    -He turned away, obviously dismissing the subject, -
while Marion glared at his retreating back. .

She was remembering this scene now as she went into Court's laboratory. He was
bent over a table, one eye to a microscope, his lips tensely pursed. Marion
waited till he bad finished his count. He straightened and saw her.
"Cot it?" he asked calmly. "Good."
Court ripped open the package and drew out a small, leather-bound notebook.
Hastily he flipped through the pages. His strong, tanned face darkened.
"Wait a minute, Marion," he called as the girl moved to leave. "I want to talk
to you."
"Yes?"
"Er-this is New Year's Eve, I know. Had you planned on doing anything
tonight?" -
Marion's brown eyes widened. She stared at Court in amazement. Was he trying
to date her?
"Why, I did plan on-"
"I should appreciate it," he said~ without a trace of embarrassment, "if you
would stay and help me with some research tonight. I regret having to say
this, but it's rather important. I want to verify certain tests."
"I'll stay," Marion assented briefly, but she flushed.
"Good. Stain these slides, please."
For several hours the two worked in silence. Court engrossed with his
microscope, the girl busy dyeing the samples. Finally Court exhausted a small
tank and conducted experiments in the vacuum he had created. -
Time dragged on, till th'~ huge old house was utterly still. The chill of a
Wisconsin winter blanketed it, making frost patterns on the window panes.
Inside the room it was warm enough, though snow lay thickly on the ground
outside.
Presently Marion slipped out of the room and returned bearing a tray of coffee
and sandwiches. She set it on a table and glanced at Court. Standing by a
window, he was idly smoking a cigarette.
"Mr. Court-"
"What is it?" he asked, without looking around. His face was upturned to the
quiet night outside as he spoke again, not waiting for her answer. "Come
here."
Marion obeyed. She was astonished to see that Court's face was drawn and
haggard, actually gray around the lips. But his eyes were feverishly bright.
"Up there," he said, pointing. "Do you see anything?"
The cold stars glittered frostily in an abyss of empty black. Some icy breath
of the unknown seemed to blow down from

the frigid, airless seas between the planets. Marion shuddered.
"I see nothing unusual," she said.
"Naturally. No one has. There's nothing visible, and yet-" Wearily he rubbed
his forehead. "It's impossible that my experiinents have lied."
"Drink some coffee," Marion urged.
COurt followed her to the table and sat down. As she poured the steaming
liquid, his somber eyes dwelt on her face.
"Are you game for an airplane trip into Canada?" he asked abruptly.
"Yes. When?"
"As soon as I can arrange it. There's a man I must see, a- a patient."
Court gulped down untasted coffee and blinked tiredly. "You should get at
least a little sleep."
"Not yet. I don't know-" He came to a sudden decision.
"Marion, you don't know anything about this experiment I'm working on. No one
knows about it yet, except me. All this data I've been collecting lately has
been for a purpose. You haven't any idea what that purpose is, have you?"
"No, I haven't."
"Well," Court declared, with curious calm, "it's simply this
---I have reason to believe that the Earth is going to be destroyed. Wait a
minute!" he cried hastily. "Perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned this till I was
absolutely certain. But I want
- to talk to someone."
His unrealized loneliness showed naked for an unguarded second on his face. He
caught himself, and was once more impassive.
"The Earth is going to face a plague that will destroy civilization. Of that,
at least, I am certain."
"A plague," she breathed. -    -"I call it that, for lack of a better term.
Every being on this planet will be affected by it." -
Marion looked at him sharply. Her lovely eyes narrowed.
"Affected? Don't you mean destroyed?"
Court pushed back his chair and rose.
"No," he whispered. "I don't." His grave lips went hard. "Come here, Marion.
Look at this."
He strode to a safe in the wall, opened it, and withdrew a small oblong box of
lead. Set in one face was a ro~und, transparent disc.


"Look through the lens," he commanded. "Don't get too close to that thing,
though."
Marion obeyed. Through the tiny pane, she could see within the box a shining
lump of matter, no larger than the nail of her thumb.
"It's phosphorescent," she said. "What is it-an ore?"
"A specimen of flesh taken from the thigh of a man named Pierre Locicault, a
French-Can~dian."
"Flesh?" The girl peered again at the object. "Was he exposed to radium?"
Court replaced the box in the safe.
"No, nothing like that. Locicault lived in a little settlement in a valley in
the wilderness. A month ago he staggered into the nearest town, emaciated and
nearly dead. His story was just about unbelievable. He claimed that one day a
heavy fog-abnormally heavy-blanketed his valley, and affected the inhabitants
peculiarly.
"They became incredibly hungry, ate enormous meals. Their skin became hot to
the point of high fever. And they
- grew so old that most of them died. Locicault went for help, but nobody
recognized him when he arrived in town. He looked thirty years older, What
does that suggest to you, Marion?" -
"Increased metabolism," she said unhesitatingly.
"Exactly. A rescue party was sent out. They found the corpses of a dozen old
me~ and women in the valley, but no sign of what killed them. There was no
sign of a fog, nor anything dangerous. Meanwhile, Locicault was luckily put
into an isolation ward in the l~ospital. He ate tremendously. It was noticed
that 1üs skin emitted radiation. In the dark, his body actually shone."
Court lit a cigarette for a few abstracted .puffs before continuing.
"His nurse caught the contagion. She killed herself. Locicault is kept in
utter isolation now, for there isn't a doctor or a nurse who dares to get near
him. When Doctor Granger wired me, I suggested lead insulation, so he could
obtain this specimen for me to study. I want to see Locicault and make further
experiments upon him."
Marion frowned. "You have other evidence, of course?"
"Naturally. Similar cases have been reported to me. This isn't anything new.
Do you remember, about seven years ago, a newspaper story about a valley in
France where the in-habitants were killed by a heavy fog? - It was attributed
to


poison gas. Do you remember that West-Indian island where life was wiped out
overnight, without any explanation at all?
- People talked about volcanjc gas.
"My files are full of apparently meaningless items like that. Freaks and
sports born to animals and humans. So-called ghost stories about apparitions
that shone in the dark, There are dozens of other examples."
The girl shuddered as she thought of the tag of flesh she had seen. -
"And do you think this is the beginning of a plague?"
"My graphs and charts show an upward swing. These occurrences happen more
frequently as time goes on. Whatever causes them is growing more powerful." --
"But what could cause such a thing?" the girl asked. "No virus could-"
"Not a virus. Filterable or not, they could not cause cellular radioactivity.
This menace-this unknown X-is certainly not a virus. I don't know its nature,
nor where it comes from. Till I know those factors, I can do nothing."
"Could it be a weapon of war?" Marion suggested. "You mean- Well, scarcely!
Once it's started, it's completely uncontrollable. X isn't man-made, for its
record goes back too far for chemistry. It's a natural phenomenon, and our
only clue is fog."
"A gas?"
Court nodded, and his eyes grew distant with thought. "Where does it come
from-under the Earth? That's pos~ sible, of course, but hardly any of these
cases have occurred in volcanic country. I think X comes from the interstellar
void.' -
Marion's eyes widened in horrified recollection.
"That's why you've been getting those observatory reports! Photographs and
spectra."
Court grunted impatiently. "They showed nothing, and that's what I can't
understand." -
"Maybe the conditions aren't right," Marion - suggested. "Phosphorescence
isn't visible in daylight. Perhaps X isn't visible in space."
Court didn't move, but his fingers broke his cigarette in two.
"What was that?" he demanded, startled.
Before the girl could reply, he whistled sharply and turned to the window.
"Of course, a catalyst! Some element in our atmosphere


makes X visible, and perhaps dangerous as well. In outer space it can't be
seen, but when it comes in contact with some

-      element in the air-I think you've got it, Marion!" He stared grimly at
the dark sky.
"Up there, yet it's invisible. Perhaps a cosmically huge cloud of it is
drifting eternally through space. We're probably on the outer fringes, so
we've touched only a few tiny, scattered wisps. When ~Earth plunges into the
main body-"
Court lifted a clenched fist, furious because he was such a tiny,
insignificant figure against the mighty concourse of the starry void. -
"An element so alien that we can scarcely conceive of it!
We can realize it exists only by seeing its effects on Earth.
What is it? What physical laws govern that frightful matter?
Or is it matter, as we know it?"
He turned suddenly, his eyes hard and determined.
"We're leaving for Canada. Charter a plane. I'll pack the equipment I will
need."
Marion paused at the door.
"Mr. Court-" she began, and hesitated.
"Well?"
Somehow, though, she could find no words. In her mind was the picture of Court
at the window, challenging- the Universe. A champion of mankind, he had made a
magnificent gesture.
But then Marion saw M~ cold, grim eyes. Reading the expression in them, her
face whitened as she realized suddenly that Court cared nothing, at all for
mankind. His motives were passionlesslyseffish.
He was not a champion. He was a scientist, cold, calculating, egocentric,
challenging an opponent that threatened his existence.
Whatever she had meant to say died in her throat, just as something died in
her heart. She went out of the room and closed the door quietly behind her.


CHAPTER V

Jans-aiya

It was dark in the forest, though sunlight filtered down wanly through the
branches. Truly the Earth had changed since
Ardath had first set foot upon it. - -
He was not entirely pleased - as he strode along, matching step with the
gigantic Thordred. It did not seem to him that this world would be a suitable
dwelling place. Thousands of years had passed since Ardath had taken Thordred
from his home. Weary centuries had passed in ageless slumber, and a new
civilization had risen. But somehow Ardath did not feel at home in this time.
He sensed a subtle strangeness in the very air about him. - -
He sighed a little wearily. His plans had gone amiss. The death of Zana, the
Amazon queen, had taken him by surprise. He had hoped to retain her as a mate
for Thordred, but with. out apparent cause, the woman's sleep had changed to
death.
A fleeting suspicion of Thordred had passed through Ardath's mind, but he
dismissed it. Though he had several poisons which might have caused such
symptoms, Thordred could not possibly know of their existence nor how to use
them. Not by a word or a thought had Thordred revealed that his brain held all
the knowledge that had been Ardath's alone.
The two of them had set out to examine this new civilization, leaving the
space ship safely hidden in the forest. They had captured two natives, learned
their language by means of the thought-transference machine, and taken their
clothing. With all memory of the encounter wiped from their minds by means of
Ardath's strange science, the natives were released. - -
"They are puny folk today," Thordred said, his savage face twisting into a
grin as he shifted the toga about his broad shoulders. "These garments
scarcely cover me."
"Our own garments might have caused comment," Ardath explained. "Let us hope
that your size won't mark you for an alien."
Thordred spat in vicious contempt.


"I don't fear these weaklings. Why can I not carry a weapon, Lord?"
"I am armed," Ardath said quietly.
The huge Earthling did not answer. He had not wished to accompany Ardath on
this expedition. If Thordred could have remained in the ship, he would have
had free access to the laboratory. After that, there would be no need to fear
Ardath or anyone else. But he had not' dared to object when his captor ordered
him to follow.
The forest thinned and the two men came out into blinding sunlight. Starting
at their feet, the ground sloped down to a broad, shallow basin, a valley
where a city lay. To the north was the serrated horizon of mountain peaks.
Apparently they were volcanoes, for smoke plumed up lazily from one and spread
in a dark blot against the blue sky.
"This is their chief city," Ardath stated. "Remember, if anyone asks, we are
farmers from the outer provinces."
Thordred nodded, grinning more broadly than before. A farmer! His mighty hands
were accustomed to sword-hilts, not the handles of plows. But he had good
reason not to argue.
The metropolis was unwalled. Several unpaved but well trodden roads led into
it, along which wains and wagons were creaking in and out. Most of the houses
were of wood, some of stone, and a few of marble. Those built of marble were
mostly temples.
Crowds filled the streets.~There seemed to be two types of beings here. The
roughly clad, bronzed peasant class, walked or drove their wagons. The
aristocracy were carried in palanquins. There were soldiers, too, armed
horsemen who nevertheless seemed slight compared with Thordred's giant frame.
"Here," Ardath said, nodding toward a low doorway. "Taverns are good places to
hear gossip."
They entered the inn, found themselves in a large room, broad and long, but
low-raftered. The stench of wine and beer was choking. Lamps illuminated the
darker corners. Crude tables were ret here and there, at which men lounged,
drinking, cursing and laughing. Two bearded seamen were throwing dice on the
floor.
"We are thirsty," Ardath said to the waiter who appeared. He did not drink
from the wine-cup that was set before him. Thordred, however, drained his at a
gulp, and shouted for more.
"You are strangers here?" the innkeeper asked.


He took the coins Ardath gave him-curious bronze disks engraved with a cross
within a circle. They had come from the pockets of the two natives Ardath had
capturedi
"Yes. it is our first visit."
"You come to trade?"
"No," Ardath replied. "We are here to catch a glimpse of the woman whose fame
has traveled even to the outer provinces. Men say that her beauty is
blinding."
"So?" The landlord asked, his eyebrows lifting. "What Is her name?" -
-"That I do not know," Ardath said. "But I can draw her
features." -
He took from his garments a stylus of his own devising and hastily sketched a
face on the boards of the table. The likeness was so nearly photographic that
the innkeeper instantly recognized it.
"By the Mountain, you are an artist. That's Jansaiya, the priestess. She's
beautiful enough, or so men say, only you can't see her. The priestesses - of
Dagon never leave their temple, and men can worship only during the Sea
FestivaL Once a year, men gaze on Jansaiya as she serves the god. You have ten
months to wait."
"I see," Ardath said, his face falling unhappily. "And where is this temple?"
Having learned the directions, they left the inn.
"Why do you wish to see this wench?" Thordred grunted. "She is the wisest in
this time," Ardath said. "I learned that before we landed here."
Hovering high over the land in his space ship, he had located Jansaiya with-
his ray device, and noted her high intelligence. The unexpected death of Zana
the Amazon still rankled in him. He had determined to secure a substitute, and
Jansalya was the logical one. She would accompany Ardath and Thordred into
time, for he had decided not to remain in this civilization. It did not
fulfill his requirements.
The two men reached the outskirts of the temple. As yet Ardath had not decided
on any definite plan, knowing that first he must find the priestess.
"Wait here," he said. "Do not move away till I return."
The giant drew back in the shelter of a tree, watching Ardath cross the
thoroughfare toward a gate where a soldier lounged on his spear.
The guard straightened, ready to challenge the Kyrian's


entry into the city. Suddenly his eyes went blank and blind as they met
Ardath's. Ordinary hypnotism worked well on these superstitious folk.
Ardath went through the gate. The bulk of a teinple rose before him. Built of
porphyry - and onyx and rose marble, it seemed to rest on the sward as lightly
as gossamer. Despite its hugeness, it had been constructed with an eye for
proportion, so that it was utterly' lovely, a symphony in stone. A curving
stairway rose toward bronze gates that stood ajar, with a soldier on guard at
each side,
Quietly Ard~th went on. The guards did not move, once they had felt the impact
of his gaze.
He entered the- -temple, found it vast, with a high-arched dome, and smoky
with incense. The floor -was green as the sea. Jade-green, too, was the
flat-topped altar that loomed before him.
Behind the altar the sacred trident reared, and smoke coiled lazily about its
prongs. A shaven-headed, soft-faced priest turned to face Ardath.
~'You have come to pay homage to Dagon," he said, rather than asked. "Where
are your tributes? Do you come empty-handed?"
Ardath decided to change his tactics. He fixed his stare upon the priest,
summoning all his will. The man hesitated, spoke a few thick words, and drew
back.
"You-seem strange,",he muttered. "Your form changes." To the hypnotized pnest
it seemed as though a light mist had gathered about Ardath's body. It
thickened and swirled, and suddenly where h~d been the figure of a man was
something entirely different.
It was Dagon, the sea god, as the priest pictured him in his own imagination!
-
The - man went chalk-white. He collapsed on the floor, so paralyzed with
fright and amazement that for a moment Ardath feared he had fainted.
"You know me;" .Ardath said softly.
"Great Master, forgive your servant. . . ." -
The priest babbled frantic incoherent prayers that sounded like gibberish.
"Bring the priestess Jansaiya to me," Ardath commanded.
"At once! At once!"
The man backed behind a tapestry and was gone. Ardath lifted ironic eyebrows,
for this was altogether too easy. When he felt under his robe for certain
weapons he had brought


with him from the ship, he nodded. Hypnotism was a ticklish trick. It was
undependable, whereas weapons were not. -
But the priest returned, leading a veiled, slight, feminine figure. Both bowed
to the floor,
Ardath lifted the girl to her feet. He pulled aside the veil, found that no
deception had been practiced upon him. This was the priestess, the beautiful
Jansaiya.




CHAPTER VI

Unforgettable Land

Wonderfully lovely she was, with elfin, childlike features that somehow held a
certain sophistication, and even a suggestion of inherent, latent cruelty. Her
hair was bright gold, her eyes sea-green. Though she was tiny as a nereid, her
delicately symmetrical figure was not in the least childlike.
She came closer to Ardath. Suddenly he felt a searing pain on his arm and drew
away sharply.
"This is no god!" Jansaiya cried, her voice like tinkling silver bells. "Blood
flows through his veins. He is human, and an -impostor!"
She drew away, a small dagger still clenched in her hand. Ardath glanced wryly
at the long scratch on his arm, yet he caught the quick stir of movement.
As though by magic, the temple was full of shaven-headed priests. From behind
the tapestried walls they came swiftly; forming a ring about Ardath. Their
steel swords glittered no less coldly than their eyes.
"We, too, know something of hypnotism," one of them rasped in contempt. "There
are ways of testing even gods."
Ardath thought quickly. His foes were at least two score. Hypnotism would be
useless now, but he had other weapons. Under his gown was a projector that
would have slain every priest in the temple, if he had cared to use It.
He did not. Ardath's alien philosophy forbade the unnecessary taking of life.
Instead, his hand, hidden in a fold of the toga, - moved almost imperceptibly.
A tiny crystalline sphere dropped to the green tiles of the floor and Ardath
put his sandalled foot over it.
"Do you yield?" the leader of the priests asked.


Ardath smashed the globe with his sole, at the same time holding his breath.
Instantly a colorless, odorless gas diffused through the tem~1e. The priests
no longer could move. Frozen statuelike, they stood gripping their weapons and
staring blindly straight ahead. The gas had a certain anaesthetic quality
which warped their time-sense and slowed down their reactions tremendously. To
their slowed' vision, it seemed as though Ardath vanished instantaneously when
he stepped aside.
Hastily he looked around, still holding his breath. The temple was silent. No
new enemy had appeared. Axdath wrenched a sword from a motionless priest and
held it lightly in his right hand. He strode quickly to the priestess and
lifted her under one arm. Ardath was no giant, but his muscles were
steel-strong, and Jansaiya was tiny.
Canying his light captive, he hurried out of the temple.
The two guards at the gate had not moved. They remained passive as Ardath
descended the stairs and went through the outer portal into the street. The
sentry there was also motionless and silent.
But behind Ardath rose a clamor and an outcry.
Nowhere could huge Thordred be seen. He had not waited. Perhaps he had been
taken prisoner.
Ardath's first step now was to return to the ship. After that, when the Kyrian
gathered more resources, Thordred could be rescued. But at that spoment there
was no time for delay.
Bending low, Ardath ran along the street. The noise of pursuit followed close
behind him, abruptly swelling to a thunder of iron hoofs. I~own upon the
Kyrian rode a horseman in glittering armor, sword lifted in menace. The
bearded soldier shouted a searing curse. Out of the temple gates the priests
poured.
"Slay him!" they yelled as they raced after Ardath. "Slay him!'
Ardath had no time to employ any weapon but the sword that was bare in' his
hand. He threw Jansaiya aside, out of danger. Quickly he reversed the blade,
gripping it by the point. As the horseman thundered down, he flung the steel
like a club.
The street exploded into a blinding blur of action. Ardath dodged aside as
ringing hoofs clashed on the pavement. The soldier's sword screamed ominously
through the air, but Ardath's missile had found its mark. Its heavy hilt had
smashed against the horseman's bare forehead. The man was


slumped in his saddle, unconscious. The weight of his sword had completed the
slash, -
Instantly Ardath was at the reins. He dragged the soldier down and sprang
lightly into the saddle. He wheeled the mount. Reaching low over the side, he
picked up Jansaiya and gently though swiftly put the limp figure across the
saddle before him. The horse reared and charged down the street, scattering
yelling priests before its thundering hoofs.
Never before had Ardath ridden a horse, nor even seen one of its kind. But
eons ago, in the Miocene Age, he had studied the small, fleet -Neohipparion.
He instantly recognized the similarity between the modern and the prehistoric
desert horse. Animals had never feared nor distrusted Ardath, for he
understood them too welL The steed responded to the least touch of his hands
and heels. Through the city it raced.
Three times Ardath had to use his sword, but only to disann. It was not
necessary to kilL Suddenly, then, the city was behind him, and he was racing
-up the slope toward the forest. - -
It was already late afternoon. The shadows lay long and dark on the sward.
Ardath cast a glance behind him, saw that a horde of horsemen were riding hard
in pursuit. He shrugged indifferently and looked down at Jansaiya.
Undisturbed, she still slept. He studied her face,- realizing that it was
lovely beyond imagination, though the perfect lips were somewhat arrogant, a
little crueL With his knowledge to combat those traits, he could make her a
fit mate for any superior man.
But what had happened to Thordred? Ardath was beginning to grow worried. He
could do nothing till he reached the ship, though.
It was sunset before he did. The titanic sphere rose above
the tree-tops as it lay cradled in a clearing. A port was wide
open, just as he had left it, but across the gap shimmered a
pallid curtain of white radiance.    -
Ardath reined in, sprang from the saddle. Snatching down Jansaiya in his anus,
he called out sharply.
"Thordred!"
Instantly the giant came out of a thicket, -his savage face inscrutable.
"Follow me," Ardath commanded briefly, and- went toward the ship.
As he neared the port, the flickering curtain died. He entered, carrying his
burden, and Thordred followed. -


Ardath turned when they were all inside. The horse was quietly grazing where
he had left it. When he heard the distant sound of shouting, constantly
growing louder, Ardath sighed. He put Jansaiya down and closed the port.
Seating himself without haste at the control panel, he sent the ship arrowing
up from t-he forest.
The vessel hung in the air, hovering motionless. Ardath turned to Thordred. -
-- -
"You tried to enter the ship," he said quietly. "I had forbidden that. Why did
you try to do so?"
Thordred flushed, trying to evade that piercing though gentle stare. -
"I came as far as the temple doors. When I saw the priests capture you, I
thought you were helpless. I was unarmed, so I came back to the ship to find
some weapon to aid you."
For a long, tense moment, Ardath's inscrutable gaze dwelt on the giant.
"No one can enter here save by my will," he said. "You would do well to obey
me in future."
Thordred nodded hastily and changed the subject.
"The girl is awakening." -
Jansaiya's green eyes slowly opened. The instant she saw Ardath, horror and
hatred sprang into her gaze.
She looked then at the crafty Thor-dred. Suddenly and unmistakably, the giant
Earthling realized that he had found an ally against Ardath. Butjie said
nothing. -
He waited, silent and passive, while Ardath spoke to Jansaiya in her own
language, explaining why she had been abducted.
She listened attentively, and the Kyrian knew she did not regard him as a god
or a demon. -
Not for nothing had he sought out the most intelligent human of this
particular time.
The Sun was setting when Ardath finished his explanation. Through the
transparent window of a port, they could see the land that stretched beneath
them, green and beautiful. Smoke plumed up from the volcanic range. The city,
tiny and
- white, lay in the distance.
"You intend to put me to sleep?" Jansaiya asked incredulously. "For a thousand
years?" -
"A thousand or more," Ardath said quietly. "Your civilization does not suit my
needs. Do you love it so well that you would refuse?"
"No," she responded. "Return to be imprisoned in -Da


gon's temple once more? No, I am glad to be free! But to have to leave my
world forever. . .
- "Kingdoms die," Ardath pointed out. "Civilizations pass like shadows. When
we awake, perhaps no man will remember your land." - -
Jansaiya rose and went to the port. The red Sun cast bloody light on her face.
"You are wrong," she whispered. "I am your prisoner. I have no choice but to
obey. Yet if we sleep for a hundred thousand years, men will not forget my
kingdom. All over Earth our ships carry wondrous goods. Our civilization is
the mightiest in the world.
"It cannot die or pass. - It will go on, through the ages, growing mightier.
Not even the gods can destroy. this land. Not even Dagon, Lord of the Sea, can
destroy Atlantis!"




CHAPTER VII

Doom

On the 2nd of January, 1941, Stephen Court left for Canada. His cabin plane
contained two passengers and a good deal of equipment.- Marion Barton went
with him, and he had allowed Sammy to go along. The old man had been reformed
in every other respect, but wanderlust can be removed from a man only by the
surgery of death. -
"I won't be no trouble, Stevie," he had argued. "I get itchy feet this time of
year, and, besides, I never rode in an airplane. Anyhow"-his watery eyes
narrowed cunning-"you'll need a handyman to do odd jobs. I can help you unpack
and other things." -
To save argument tjiat would waste time, Court had agreed. It was a clear,
bitingly cold day when the plane took off from the Wisconsin flying field.
Luckily the weather reports were good. Though there was no danger of snow,
Court flew at low altitude, fearing that ice would form on the wings. -
The excitement of hurtling the plane at high speed made him
uncharacteristically talkative. His gaunt cheeks were flushed, and he chatted
with the others with unusual animation and warmth. Sammy did not talk much,
but he listened and occasionally asked a question.


"Plague, eh?" he said once. "I was in the South once when a plague hit. It was
pretty awful. Kids and wornen-we couldn't bury 'em -fast enough. I sure hope
it ain't like that."
"We'll see," Court said. "I can't do much till I examine this fellow
Locicault. For that matter-" He frowned, pondering. "I really haven't enough
equipment with me. rye got to bring Locicault back to my lab." -
"But you say it's contagious," Marion protested. "How can he travel?"
"I've arranged that. I'm having an ambulance made ready. It'll be plated with
several thicknesses of lead, which ought to be safe enough. They're sending
the car after me as soon as it's ready."
"Oh," Marion said.
She fell silent, watching the mountains and lakes glide past below.
"You know," Court observed after a time, "I came across an interesting angle,
a completely unexpected one. I've been getting photographs from most of the
observatories. While I found no trace of my X in space, I did notice something
else
-a satellite of some kind circling the Earth. No one's noticed it before, it's
so small and travels so fast. But it seems to be made of homogeneous metal." -
"Iron?"
"Smooth metal, Marion. Not pitted and rough, as an asteroid would be. It's
made of pure gold, or some yellow metal that resembles gold." .i
The girl looked sharply at Court.
-     "A space ship?"
"Possibly. But why wouldn't it come down, if it is a ship? Has it been
efrc]ing the Earth for ages?"
"But where could it have come from?"
"Some ancient civilization might have mastered space travel, though I doubt
that. If it is a space ship, it probably came from some other planet."
"There's nothing in history about it," Marion said. "If one space ship could
come here, probably so would a lot more."
'Nothing in history? No, but there's a lot in mythology and folklore. I'm just
guessing, of course. I'm anxious to find out more about that highly unnatural
satellite."
She was silent, fascinated by the thought.
"How can you reach it?" she asked.
"It looks impossible," he admitted. "Space ~travel is impos


sible to us today. That's one reason-You see, Marion, if it really is a space
ship, -it may mean Earth's salvation. To be completely rational, we must
consider that perhaps the plague can't be conquered. If it is a space ship, we
may be able to leave the Earth and go to another planet. If those worlds are
also in danger, we could leave the System. -
"We couldn't do that with modern rocket fuels. Suppose that strangely colored
satellite is a genuine space ship, one that has already traveled across the
interstellar void. Repairing it would be less work than inventing one."
"It's worth trying," Marion breathed hopefully.
"I may fail. That's why t~want to find out more about X. The space ship's a
dangerously long chance, and I don't want to gamble everything on one throw of
the dice. When I see Locicault-"
Time wore on. Sammy asked innumerable questions about the plague, but when he
exhausted his curiosity, he went to sleep. The plane sped over the Border and
into Canada.
It was afternoon before they reached the landing field. An automobile met them
and took them into town, another following with Sammy and the equipment. At
the hospital they were greeted by Doctor Granger, a shriveled gnome of -a man
with one tuft of white hair standing straight up from his bald skull.
"Court!" he said in relief. "Am I glad you're here! Are you hungry?"
"No." Characteristically Court did not bother to introduce anyone. "Where's
the patient?"
"In the left wing of the hospital. We've cleared out everyone else. You'll
have to put - on the lead suit. We have only one, unfortunately."
Court seemed transformed into a swift, emotionless machine. He hastily donned
the form-fitting suit of canvas, with leaden scales sewed closely over the
surface. As he followed Granger to the door, the physician paused. -
"I'd better not go farther. I don't know exactly how far the radiation
extends. It wilts gold-leaf at quite some distance."
Court nodded, got his directions, and clumped ponderously out the door. He
went along the corridor until he found the patient's room. Any other man would
have hesitated before entering, but Court was not like any other man. Without
stopping, he pushed open the door.


The bare, white-walled chamber was spotlessly sterile. A case of instrütuents
lay open on a table, a hypodermic needle in view. On the bed a man was
sprawled. -
Peering through lead-inifitrated goggles, Court came closer. Locicault was
unconscious. No, he was asleep. His spare, wasted frame was barely fleshy
enough to make a visible shape under the coverlets. On the pillow lay the
withered, skull-face of an incredibly old man.
Locicault was twenty-three years of age.
His mouth was toothless. Hanging open helplessly, it revealed his ugly,
blackened gums. His skull was hairless, with ears that were large and
malformed, and his nose, too, was enlarged. The repulsive skin dangled in
loose, sagging wrinides. Pouches hung slack on his naked skull.
Court went to the window and drew down the shades. In the gloom a queer,
silvery light was visible at once. It came from the patient's face!
Court stripped off the covers, exposing Locicault's gaunt, nude body. Like the
ghastly face, it gleamed with a silvery radiance that did not pulse or wane,
but remained steady.
"Locicault," Court called out sharply.
- When he gripped the thin shoulder, the man shuddered convulsively and his
eyes opened.
They were not human eyes. They were pools of white radiance, like shining
smoke in eye-sockets.
"Locicault, can you hear me?" Court asked quietly.
A cracked whisper came~'from the withered lips.
"Yes. . . . Yes, m'sieu."
"Can you see me?"
"I can-No, m'sieu, not with my eyes. I am blind-but I can see you, somehow-"
Court frowned, puzzled, as he pondered the weird reply.
"What do you see?"
"You are covered with-armor, I think. I do not know how I can tell this. I am
blind. . . ."
"I am a doctor,". Court said. "If you can talk without pain, I want you to
answer some questions."
"Oul, m'sieu. Bien."
"Are you in pain?"
"No-Yes. I am hungry. It is strange. I am hungry and thirsty, but I do not
want food, Something I do not understand-"
Court waited for him to continue. When Locicault did not, he went on with
another line of reasoning.


"Tell me about this fog."     -
"There is not much to tell," Locicault said painfully. "When I left my home, I
could not find my way. The fog was so
heavy-and its smell was not right." --
Stephen's eyes sparkled with interest under the thick mask.
"How did it smell? What did it remind you of?"
"I don't know. Wait! Once I was in the big power-house at the dam, and it
smelled like that-"
Ozone? Court shook his head.
"Well?" he urged. -
"The fog was - cold at first, and then it seemed to grow -warmer. I had the
strange feeling it was getting inside of me. My lungs began to burn like fire.
My heart beat faster. I was hungry, yet I had just eaten . . . Doctor,"
Locicault said suddenly, without moving, "I am changing-more and more. When it
started, I did not change much, but now-I feel like something that is not a
man. Can you hear my voice?"
"Yes," Court soothed.
"That is odd. My mind is so wonderfully clear, but my senses-I do not seem to
hear with my ears, nor speak with my tongue. I feel strong, though-and
hungry-"
His scrawny head slumped, and Court saw that he had lost consciousness.
Whistling softly, with grim abstraction, Court returned to the main hospital
where the others waited. Doffing his suit, he questioned Granger.
"It's progressive, isn't it? Doesn't the radiation get stronger?"
"Why, yes," the physician replied. "For a time, anyway. Locicault was
fearfully hungry. His metabolism was high, and this radiation got stronger
every thne we fed him. Yesterday, though, he refused to eat."
"But he's hungry," Stephen protested.
"So he says, and still he won't eat. The radiation is much fainter now."
"I see," Court muttered. "Get me a guinea-pig, will you? A rabbit will do just
as well, if you don't have a guinea-pig. I want to try something."
Putting on the armor again and carrying a wriggling guinea-pig, Court went
back to the patient. Locicault was still uncoriscious. For the first time,
Court hesitated, staring at the pale aura surrounding Locicault's body. Then
he slowly extended the guinea-pig till its furry side touched the pa-tient's
-hand.
Gently the weak, bony fingers constricted. Closing upon the tiny animal, they
did not harm it though it struggled frantically to escape.
The little beast went limp, seemed, amazingly, to grow smaller. Swiftly the
phosphorescent gleam surrounding Locicault grew brighter.
"So that's the way!" Court muttered under his breath.
He disengaged the guinea-pig from the skeleton fingers and examined the
animal. It was dead, as he had expected. Court silently returned to the
others. -
"You haven't been feeding him the right way," he explained, struggling out of
the armor. He gave it to the Granger, who put it on. "Locicault is changing,
slowly and steadily, into some form of life that is definitely not human. At
first he ate normally, though in vast quantity.
"As his basic matter altered, Locicault lost the power to absorb food as we
do, internally; He gets the energy direct- like a vampire, to put it
melodramatically. He will kill any living being that touches him."
"Good God!" Granger cried in a shocked voice. "We can't let him live, Court!"
"We must, because I need him. I have to study the course of the plague in its
natural progress. Locicault must be fed whatever he needs now-rabbits,
guinea-pigs, and so on. I shall take him to my home as soon as the special
ambulance gets here,"
Sammy shuffled forward, wide-eyed with fear, but desperately stern.
"Stevie, don't take any chances,"
Court ignored the old man as he ignored everyone else when his mind was
absorbed.
"Marion, unpack my equipment. The ambulance should be here by tomorrow or the
next day. In the meantime, I want to check every angle. Be sure that there's a
supply of small animals for the patient. I don't know yet bow much energy he
needs, but he's broadcasting it at a terrific rate."
Granger, clumsy in the lead suit, ah'eady left the room. Court looked at his
watch.
"Lucky I got here in time. If Locicault had died-"
"Can you save him?" she asked eagerly.
"Of course not! I don't want to, even if I could. I want to stop the plague,
and to do that, I must watch it run its course in a test subject. Locicault
happens to be the only one we know about. There may be new cases at any time,
but I can't


afford to wait. For all I know, there may- never be another case till the
final crack-up. Then it will be too late to do anything." -
"What do you intend?" Marion asked, trying to hide her disappointment. -
"I shall take Locicault back home with me, keep him in isolation, and feed him
whatever may be necessary. Eventually the plague will run its course.
Locicault may not die, but he may have to be destroyed."
The door slammed open. Granger burst into the room, ripped off the lead suit.
His gnomish face was gray with horror.
"Court, he's dead!"
"What?". Court's jaw trembled with indecision. "No, he can't be. It's
unconsciousness-" But already he was snatching the suit from Granger. "Get me
adrenalin, quick, another guinea-pig!"
They sprang to obey. Bearing his equipment, Court raced away. The minutes
ticked slowly past, lagging unendurably. At last he came back, his shoulders
slumped.
"You're right, Granger," he muttered. "Locicault's dead. I was too late."
"You-" the physician hesitated, biting his lips in helplessness. "You'll want
to have an autopsy?" -
"No, it's no use. I must watch the progress of the plague
on a living being. A corpse is no good for my purposes. I
must wait . . . Perhaps the plague will strike again. I-I
don't know." -
Court went to the window and looked out, his back to the others. -
- "Take precautions with the burial," he said after a time speaking in a
strange, tight voice. "The contagion can still be spread. No one must touch
him without lead-armor. You will cremate han, of course." -
Marion came across the room to stand beside him.
"You're not giving up, are you?" she whispered.
"No, but I'm at a dead end now. Every hour I delay may mean-" - -
The others had shuffled despondently out of the room. -
"We're going back, then?" Marion asked.
"Yes. I'll take a few specimens from Locicault's body, but it's useless. I
can't bring back life to a dead man. Damn him!" he snarled with sudden fury.
"Why did he have to die?"
Marion's lips trembled and she turned - away. Court, after a


brief hesitation, replaced the lead-glass helmet and went into the wing. He
could, as a matter of routine, take samples of Locicault's blood and skin,
though he knew that would do little good.
~ Court opened the door of Locicault's room and stopped abruptly, catching his
breath. The blood drained from his
- cheeks. He. reached out almost blindly.
"Sammy!" he whispered. "Oh, my Cod, you fool!"
The old man stood motionless beside the bed. In the dimness his face could not
be seen. His scant white hair was pale as silver.
"Hello, Stevie," he said gently. "Don't go off the handle, now. After all, I'm
not so young any more, arid you needed a -case of this plague to experiment
on. If it's as contagious as you say, I guess I sure enough got it by now."
"Sammy," Court whispered through dry lips. "Why-"
He could not go on.
"Why?" The old man shrugged. "I dunno. I told you about that plague down
South, with women and kids dying like ffies. I know what it's like. If I can
help you save women and kids, Stevie, I figure I've done a pretty good job. So
it's up to you now, boy. It's up to you."



I


CHAPTER VIII

The ~fystery of Dro-Ghir

Ardath was worried. As he sat immersed in thought, within the laboratory of
the golden ship, he felt that he was little nearer to his goal. The barbaric
hordes that overran the Earth in this new era promised little. Only in the far
Eastern lands did the flame of civilization burn.
But would Ardath find a super-mentality there? Would there be one he could
take with him to a future age, to find a suitable mate? Or must he go on once
more?
There was another matter, too~ Neither Jansaiya nor Thor-died had proved as
intelligent as he had expected. At times Thordred was almost obtuse, despite
his eagerness to learn new things. A flash of suspicion crossed Ardath's mind.
Perhaps Thordred was pretending stupidity-


But why should he? Ardath, unused to guile and deceit, found the question
difficult. He had saved Thordred's life, but humans were completely alien to
Ardath. He had come from Kyria, a planet far across the Universe. He did not
realize tkat humans sometimes mistrust and hate those greater than them..
selves, fearing power which, though benevolent, can also be used for evil.
Besides, he knew that Thordred was ambitious, for the giant Earthman had
conspired to win Zana's throne. -
Ardath rose from his seat and pressed a lever. The veil of flickering light
that barred the doorway died. He stepped across the threshold, and once more
the barrier flamed with shimmering deadliness. He stood watching Thordred and
Jansaiya as they sat near a vision screen, intent on the scene pictured there.
Thordred turned his Vulture face, sensing Ardath's presence. "There is nothing
new, Master." -
Ardath smiled somewhat sadly and shook his head.
"How often must I tell you not to call me master? Because I have more
knowledge than you, Thordred, does not mean that you are my slave. This
eternal desire of Earthmen for enslavement . .
He shrugged bewilderedly and his thoughts went back to his home planet,-
Kyria, long since shattered into cosmic dust. Often he had dreamed of that
world, which he had only seen on vision screens. Always he had awakened to
this barbarous planet where men hated and fought and died for silly caures.
Truly the road of the ages was long.
Yet he knew there would be an end. Even here, in this Eastern land, the Kyrian
had found a clue.
"Thordred'," he said slowly, "and you, too, Jansaiya-I must leave you for
awhile."
Intent on his thoughts, Ardath did not notice the quick glow that brightened
the others' eyes. -
"There is a man here I must know, and a mystery I must solve," he continued.
"Barbarous hordes have overrun this country, huge hairy giants from the North.
They are little more than beasts, but at their head is a chieftain called
DroGhir. He puzzles me. His acts are wise. His brain seems highly developed,
yet he is filled with the violent emotions of a savage. This is a paradox."
Jansaiya's lovely eyes were narrowed.
"You must leave us, you said?" -

Ardath nodded. "Remain in the ship till I return. There Is plenty of food, and
no danger can touch you. I have only one warning- Do not attempt to enter the
laboratory." He smiled as a thought came to him. "Though you know nothing of
the 4~paratus there, yet you might harm yourselves." -
"We will obey," Thordred grunted, his harsh face immobile.
Quickly Ardath made his - preparations. As he opened the port, he turned. His
gaze dwelt on Thordred, and there was a curiously mocking light in it.
"Farewell, for a time. I shall rejoin you soon."
He stepped out and was gone.
The girl made a quick movement, but Thordred lifted his huge hand in warning.
"Wait!" he whispered.
They waited, while the minutes dragged past. At last Thordred arose and went
to the laboratory door. He fumbled over the wall, and abruptly the flickering
veil of light died. The giant's face twisted in a contemptuous grin.
"Ardath is a fool," he rumbled. "Else he would never h~ve left his laboratory
unguarded, even though he does not realize that I know the secret of his
brain."
"But do you?" Jansaiya asked. She stood behind the giant, peering over his
shoulder into the laboratory. "You know nothing of his thoughts since you drew
the knowledge from his mind, and that was ages ago."
"I know enough!" Thordred retorted, eyeing the apparatus wolfishly. "Enough to
handle his weapons, once I get my hands on them. We shall follow Ardath now
and slay him. Then this new world will be ready f or conquests."
"I am afraid," the girl complained. "Do not try to kill Ardath. Sometimes I
see that in his eyes which makes me tremble. He is not Earth-born. Let us
flee, instead, to where he can never find us."
"While he lives, we are not safe," Thordred growled. "Come!"
He sprang across the threshold-and was flung back!
A wall of flaming blue light reared viciously before hini.
Crackling, humming, blazing with azure fury, the strange
veil rippled weirdly. Sick with amazement and baffled rage,
Thordred drew back, a stinging pain in his arm and his side.
Jansaiya cried out and fled into a corner.

"He-he watches us!" the girl whimpered. "I did not think so, but now I know he
is a demon!"
Thordred was ashly-gray under his brown, hairy skin. His jaw muscles bunched.
Like a beast he crouched, great ha~ds shaking, as he glared at the ominous
portal.
"Quiet! He does not watch. Ardath is clever, that is all."
"I do not understand-~--"
"One lock on a door is good, but two are better. Ardath had put two locks on
this one." Thordred growled deep in his throat. "Does he suspect me? If he
does-" He shook his shaggy head. "No, it is a precaution anyone might take.
Let me see.
Thordred approached and gingerly tested the blue wall of light. It was as
solid and resistant as metaL
"it is a new thing. I know many of Ardath's secrets, though not this one.
Perhaps I can learn how to destroy this barrier before he returns." -
Jansaiya began trembling with a new fear.
"If you do not, he may destroy us. Hurry, Thordredl" -
"There is no need for haste. Let me see. . .
The giant began testing the wall beside the door. Under his beetling brows,
the amber cat's-eyes glowed as he worked. Presently sweat began to trickle
down the swarthy face and run into the black beard. Could he find the secret
of the-barrier before Ardath returned?
Meanwhile, Ardath walked swiftly through the forest, his thoughts busy. The
Kyrian had already forgotten Thordred and Jansaiya. He was pondering the
mystery of the savage -chief Dro-Ghir, whose actions were those of a genius,
but who certainly did not resemble one in anyway.
In a far- later age, Genghis Khan and Attila the Hun would ravage the Earth as
Dro-Ghir did now. Centuries later, the waIled cities of China would again fall
victim to the invader, as they had fallen before Dro-Ghir. Out of the Northern
steppes the hordes of this scourge had come, huge hairy men on horseback.
Their villages were crude collections of dome-shaped huts-yurts, they were
called. -
Eastward the ravagers had swept, and down the bleak coasts into Oriental
lands. Westward they had been halted, for a time, by the vast mountain range
that towered to the skies. In the South they had swarmed into a land of green,
lush jungle and carved stone temples, where men worshiped Siva and Kali the
Many-armed.


Like an avalanche, the hoofs of the invaders thundered across the Earth.
"Slay!" they shouted.
Their curved swords glittered. Their horse-tail standards shook in the chill
winds that followed them from the North. Their spears drank deep, lifted,
dripping red! Great beast-faced giants who rode like centaurs and fought like
devils, they bathed the East in rivers of blood.
Slay! Show no mercy. Prisoners mutter and revolt, therefore take no prisoners.
-Only slay! -
Over these barbarians Dro-Chir ruled.
Ardath's vision screen had showed him that Drc-Ghir camped with a group of his
men, not far away. But night had fallen before he reached the outposts and was
accosted by a wary sentry.
In the moonlight, the guard's face was like that of a gargoyle. He lifted his
spear-and held it rigid as Ardath's gaze met and locked with his. A silent
conflict flared without words or actions between the two men.
As the stronger will mastered, the sentry turned and led the Kyrian into the
midst of a group of goat-skin tents. Be-fore the largest he paused. A few
soldiers were sitting here and there by their fires. They looked up curiously,
but none offered to interfere.
The sentry lifted the tent-flap and Ardath entered. He felt an involuntary
tension a~ he faced the baffling Dro-Chir.
A few small lamps of pottery, with wicks protruding from reeking animal-oil,
cast a flickering yellowish gleam on the tent walls. There were some
beast-skins scattered around haphazardly, but nothing more. A man reclined at
length on a greasy fur, and he looked up sharply as the intruder entered.
Dro-Ghir was a giant as huge as Thordred. He wore nothing but a loose robe,
which left his shaggy breast bare. His thick black beard was shiny with oil.
His long, thick mustache had been twisted into two short braids and tied with
golden wire. A fui~ cap covered his head. His face was that of a blindly
ferocious beast. The low brow slanted back. The thick lips revealed yellow,
broken tusks. In the shallow eyes was little sign of intelligence.
Ardath frowned in wonder. Was this the genius he sought?


CHAPTER IX

Li Yang

Dro-Chir surged up in one swift motion. Ills hand brought out a short
throwing-spear, which he leveled at Ardath.
"Li Yang!" he roared. "Come here!" -
Ardath had already taken pains to learn the language of the barbarian hordes.
"I mean no harm," he began. "I merely-"
"Peace, Lord," a new voice broke in. "He comes unarmed. Wait!"
Someone was crouching in the shadows. Ardath peered Intently into the
darkness. He saw a gross lump of a man, an absurdly fat Oriental who sat
cross-legged in the gloom. Sharp black eyes, almost hidden in the sagging pads
of the bland round face, stared back at Ardath. The tiny, red lips were
childlike, and the domelike skull was bald and shining. Li Yang wore a loose
robe, girt about his bulging waist by a golden cord.
Dro-Ghir had also swiveled to peer at the OrientaL
"Hear his words," Li Yang counseled, and picked up a lutelike instrument at
his side. Idly he strummed the strings as he gave his advice. "There is no
harm in words."
But Dro-Gith did not release his grip on the spear. He stood with legs wide
apart, watching Ardath.
"Well?" he demanded. -
The Kyrian spread his hands in appeaL "I come in peace."
"How did you get through the--lines?"
"That does not matter. I have a message for you."
Dro-Ghir growled a savage threat deep in his throat, -"Let him speak, Lord,"
Li Yang whispered.
"Then speak-but swiftly!"
Swiftly Ardath told his story. He was still puzzled, and he grew more
bewildered as he searched the dull, ferocious eyes of the chieftain. No
understanding woke in them, yet Ardath plunged on, explaining his purpose,
asking Dro-Ghir to come with him into- time.
Finally he finished. There was tense silence as the lamps

spujtered and flickered eerily. At last the soft twang of the lute murmured
vaguely.
"What is your answer?" Ardath asked.
Dro-Chir tugged at his beard, while his hand was still clenched about the
spear. Abruptly the Oriental broke in.
"Lord, I thinic this foreigner has strange powers. It would be well to make
him welcome," -
The Oriental heaved to his feet, a flabby behemoth from the furs, and the
pudgy hand made a swift motion to DroGhfr. The chieftain hesitated. Then his
face broke into a wolfish grin.
"Good. We are not enemies, you and I. Break bread with -me."
Li Yang shuffled ponderously forward, thrust a cake of mealy, unleavened bread
into Dro-Ghir's paw. The chieftain broke the cake into halves and handed
Ardath one, stuffing the other into his capacious mouth. The crumbs that fell
were caught in his filthy beard.
Warily the Kyrian ate. Something was amiss here, though what is was, he did
not know.
"You will come with me?" he asked. "I am tired of using force. If you refuse,
I shall merely leave you and continue my
-     search." -"Drink!" Dro-Chir roared.
He seized a hollowed horn from Li Yang and thrust it at Ardath. The Oriental
gawe Dro-Ghir another cup. The wine was hotly spiced and steaming.
"In friendship-drink!"
The barbarian chief lifted the horn to his lips and drained it. Ardath
followed his example. Slowly he lowered the cup.
Li Yang was back in his corner, strumming at the lute. His voice rose in a
monotonous Oriental song. "All men see the petals of the rose drift down, the
jasmine fades, the lotus passes, . . ."
Dro-Ghir stood motionless. Abruptly his huge hand tightened on the
drinking-horn, and it shattered.
His hair-fringed mouth gaped open in agony. Only a choking snarl rasped out.
"But no man sees his own doom in the falling of the rose. . . . -
The chieftain's body arched back. He clawed at his throat, his contorted face
blindly upturned. Then he crashed down, as a tree falls, and lay silent on a
dirty bear fur. A single -

shudder shook the gross form, before Dro-Ghir was utterly still. -
Ardath caught his breath.
His gIan~ probed the Oriental's sharp black eyes as Li Yang stood up
hurriedly. -
"We must go before Dro-Ghir's body is found. Most of the men are in a drunken
stupor, as always after a victory. Hurry!"
"Wait," Ardath protested. "I do not understand."
The Oriental's bland face was immobile, but his black eyes twinkled with
malicious amusement.
"Dro-Ghir signaled me to give you the poisoned cup. I gave him the deadly
wine, instead. Listen, Ardath-that is your name, I think. Your words were not
for this barbarian chief. Ever since Dro-Ghir captured me, years ago, I have
served him with my wisdom. He spared me because I gave him good counsel."
Ardath's eyes widened, startled by the simple explanation. Li Yang had been
the power behind Dro-Ghlr's throne.
The Oriental was the genius who -had inspired the invader! "I am tired of
being a slave," said Li Yang frankly. "Eventually Dro-Ghir would have doubted
my wisdom, and would have slain me. Also, I do not like this savage world. Let
me go with you, Ardath, into the future"-he glanced at the grease-stained
furs-"where, at least, there may be more comfortable couches."
Involuntarily Ardath's solemn face relaxed in a gentle smile. He could not
help liking this blandly frank Oriental, who played soft music with one hand
while he administered poison with the other.
"Very well," he agreed. "Let us go. What of the guards- can we pass through
their lines?" -
"Unless Dro-Ghir's body is discovered. In that case, not even I will be above
suspicion, so we must hurry." -
The two slipped quietly from the tent and under a swollen red moon they walked
through the encampment. Only when the fires had grown dim behind them did they
breathe freely once more. -
Li Yang pointed up to the smoke-- from the camp that drifted across Earth's
satellite.
"Barbarian flames darken the Moon-lantern," he said softly. "In future ages,
the smoke may have drifted away. Not for many centuries, though, I think.'
Ardath did not answer, for he was concentrating on the


brain of the man who walked beside him. Presently he sighed with an emotion
that was close to despair.
His quest was not over. Li Yang was wise, far ahead of his time in
intelligence, but he was not the super-being Ardath sought. The search must
still go on through the eons. But Li Yang would be a good companion to have,
despite his short
comings.    -
After awhile, they came in sight of the ship.
The Oriental's lips quivered, though his face remained immobile.
"The chariot actually flies?" he asked in awe. "It is truly wonderful, like
the fabled dragon of Sti-Shan."
On the threshold of the golden ship, Ardath paused a moment. His gaze went to
the blue curtain that flickered across the laboratory door. Then he looked
sharply at Thordred and Jansaiya, who were rising from their couches.
Jansaiya's elfin features betrayed nothing, though there was a hint of fear in
the sea-green eyes. Thordred's beard bristled with apparent indignation.
"It is time you returned!" he growled. "Look!" He pointed toward the
laboratory. Silently Ardath entered, Li Yang at his heels. Ignoring their
apparent interest in the Oriental, he lifted his brows in a question.
"Enemies," Thordred grunted, his yellow eyes angry. "They came from the
forest. I-" He looked away involuntarily. "I opened the door,iwhich was wrong,
I admit. But I was curious-"
"Go on," Ardath ordered unemotionally. -"Well, the barbarians saw us. They
came toward the ship, yelling and hurling spears. I shut the port and barred
it, but they hammered so hard on the metal I feared they'd break though." -
"No spear can pierce the hull," Ardath replied quietly. "Jansaiya was
frightened, and I was weaponless. I thought I could find a weapon in your
laboratory. But when I tried to enter-" He made 'a quick, angry gesture toward
the threshold. "You do not trust us, I see."
"You are wrong." Ardath smiled suddenly. "I take precautions against possible
enemies, but you are not my enemy, Thordred. The barbarians fled?"
"They gave up at last," Thordred blurted hurriedly. "But if they had broken
in, we would have been slaughtered like trapped beasts."
Ardath shrugged indifferently.


"It should be forgotten. We have a new companion. And soon we must sleep again
for centuries." -
Thordred said nothing. His eyes were veiled, but slow rage mounted within him.
Again he had failed. Not completely, though-He had not betrayed himself, and
as yet Ardath suspected nothing. -
They must sleep again, yet they would awaken.
Thordred's fist clenched. The next time, he would not fail!




CHAPTER X

The Living Death

Stephen Court was in his Wisconsin laboratory-home. With Marion and Sammy, he
had returned from Canada and plimged immediately into a desperate succession
of experiments. Slowly, painfully, he made progress.
"We have two goals," he told Marion, his dark eyes gleaming behind lids that
were red with lack of sleep. 'First-"
"First you've got to eat something," the girl interrupted. She brought a tray
to Court's desk and set it down. Silently he nodded his thanks. Wolfing a
sandwich without tasting it, he kept on talking.
"Remember what I told you about seeing a golden space ship on an orbit around
the Earth? I've been checking that. I have a hunch there's some clue connected
with that ship."
"How do you figure that out?" -
Marion perched on a corner of the desk, her trim legs swinging under the lab
smock she wore.
"The ship was obviously created by some civilization far in advance of ours.
That means their science was also in advance of today's. Perhaps in that
vessel I can find some weapon-some method unknown to modern science-that will
help me fight the plague. The very least it can do is set me on the right
track."
Marion patted her dark hair into place, though she boasted that she had lost
all the silly feminine habits.
"How can you reach the ship? Space travel is impossible." Court smiled. "It
was impossible. Rockets are useless as yet, because the fuel - problem's
insurmountable. Balloons aren't practical But there is a way of overcoming
gravitation."


"Good Lord!" The girl slid down from the desk and stood staring. "You don't
mean-"
"Hold on. I haven't done anything yet, except make some spectroscopic
analyses. Marion, that space ship isn't made of gold! It's a yellow metal, an
unknown alloy. I haven't finished analyzing it, but I know there's magnesium
there, tungsten, and other elements. The virtue of that alloy is that,
properly magnetized, it becomes resistant to gravitation."
"How?" she asked, amazed.
Court tapped idly on the tray as he replied.
- "I'm just theorizing, though I feel pretty certain. Earth is a gigantic
magnet. You know that. Well, like poles repel, opposite poles attract. If we
could set up a magnetic force absolutely identical to Earth's, we could
utilize that principle. So far it hasn't been done, except by the unknowns who
built that golden ship. If I can duplicate the alloy-which I think I can
do-and shoot the right sort of energy into it, we'll have a space ship."
"Whew!" Marion breathed, and she blinked. "Then you'll go out after-"
"The golden vessel? Yes. It may be a wild goose chase, for all I know, but the
chance is worth taking. I may find scientific knowledge that will be just what
I need."
The girl turned away with such haste that Court looked at her sharply.
"What is it?" he demanded.
She shook her head sp~echlessly. Court got up swiftly and swung her around to
face him. There were tears in her lovely brown eyes.
"Tell me-what it is!" he commanded. "What's wrong?"
She bit her lip. "You'll think I'm foolish."
"I said, tell me what it is!"
"I'm just superstitious," Marion burst out. "It isn't scientific at all. But
for a minute I had the queerest feeling that- that-"
"Well?" he said impatiently, frowning and gripping her shoulders.
"That there's danger in that ship," she whispered. "Danger to you, Stephen. As
though that golden ship had been waiting for ages, perhaps-just for the moment
when you'd enter
it."
• He grinned ironically and sat down again. Gulping milk, he watched Marion
laughingly over the rim of the glass.
"A sort of ancient rendezvous," he teased. "You're under a


nervous tension, Marion. We all are," he. admitted, sobering. "And there's
reason enough, I'm afraid." -
They fell painfully silent. Both were thinking of the man who lay alone in a
lead-plated room upstairs. Sammy was already being ravaged by the frightful
plague from outer space. Court got up, squaring his shoulders with decision.
"He didn't back down, you know, and I certainly won't run from a shadow. Get
my suit, Marion. It's time to check up on Sammy again."
Nervously she helped Court don the armor.
"There's something going on at the village," she said. "Not a-a shadow,
either. Since the plague has hit the newspapers, the villagers are
frightened."
"Why?" Court asked, slipping on his gloves. "There's been only one case in
this country as yet, and that was In Georgia. Europe, Africa, China? Sure.
But-"
"Somebody's been talking. They know about Sammy. They claim that you're
exposing the whole village to deadly danger by keeping Sammy here." - -
"Damned idiots!" He made an impatient gesture with his lead-gauntleted hand.
"Sammy's completely isolated. There's no danger at all." -
"They're not scientists," she argued. "Just ordinary people, most of them
fairly uneducated. But they've got families, and- Well, I'm afraid."
"The police can't touch me."
"It's not that." Marion bit her lip and paused. Then she shrugged. "It doesn't
matter, I suppose. But I hope nothing happens."
"Nothing will," he assured her. -
He went out, hurrying through a long corridor to a lead-plated door. When he
knocked, there was no response. Making sure there were no gaps in his armor,
Court entered the experimental room. -
It was large, yet amazingly cluttered with apparatus. The lead walls dully
reflected the dim light. On white-topped tables by the hospital bed lay
gauges, indicators, and enigmatic looking devices.
The figure on the bed was completely unrecognizable. The metamorphosis had
come so swiftly that Sammy was horribly inhuman in appearance. His skin
emitted a silvery mdiance. His face was a mere bag of loosely wrinkled - skin,
hanging repulsively about the jutting nose. His mouth was invisible below eyes
that were gleaming but blind.


Court fought down the sick horror that tore at his stomach. He dared not give
way to sentiment, nor even admit its existence. Before him was a test case, a
laboratory subject. That was all. He must forget that he had ever known the
old man, that the faithful regenerated tramp has been his only friend, his
entire family.
"Hello, Sammy," he said in a voice that would not lose its choked quality.
"How do you feel?"
There was no motion perceptible in the shrunken body on the bed. But a
remarkably clear voice murmured a reply.
"Hello, Stevie."
"Any change?"
"None. I'm just hungry."
Court took a rabbit from a lead-lined box beside the bed, and placed it gently
In the malformed talons that once bad been Sammy's hand. Instantly there was a
change. The small beast kicked convulsively and was still. The glow emanating
-from Sammy's skin brightened slightly.
"That better?"
"Yes. Thanks, Stevie."
COurt drew up a chair and clumsily sat down in it. Through the
lead-infiltrated goggles, his eyes probed. With gloved fingers he made
adjustments on the apparatus, and carefully checked the readings on certain
gauges.
"The change is progressive," he muttered under his breath. Drawing a
microscope toward him, he took a sample of the patient's skin cells
and~prepared a slide.
"Yes, entropy . . . Incredible! I still can't understand-"
"What is it, Steve?" Sammy asked wealdy.
"Nothing new. But I~I1 find a cure yet. You can depend on me, Sammy."
The hideous folds of wrinkles twitched in a ghastly semblance of amusement.
"Your cure won't help me. I'm hungry again."
Court gave the old man another rabbit. Then he took pencil and paper, set a
stop-watch on the table, and began the usual word-association test. Though
simple, it had proved surprisingly effective in checking on the patient's
mental metamorphosis.
But now Court was due for a surprise. The test proceeded normally, Sammy
responding without much hesitation, though over two words-"man" and "life"-he
paused perceptibly. Then Court said, "Food," and immediately Sammy responded,
"Human." -


Court made a great effort to control himself. He read the next word, and the
next, but •he did not even hear Sammy's responses. He was battling down the
gorge that rose in his throat, yet this should have been expected. Sammy was
absorbing life-energy from living beings, and the human brain contained the
highest form of such energy. But what would be the result?
Sammy's replies lagged as he seemed to grow weaker. Court left him at last,
with a few encouraging words. But when he hurried out, he was feeling worried
and depressed.
It was past sunset, and he switched on the light in his lab. Removing the
lead-armor, he sat down to think matters over. Sammy was no longer entirely
human, for the change was progressing rapidly. His basal metabolism was
tremendously increased. As Court had discovered, the very matter of his body
was changed,
"Entropy," he whispered, nervously folding and unfolding his hands. "That's
the answer, of course. But what it means-" -
Entropy, the rate of the Universe's running down. A human body is composed of
atoms and electrons, like a universe. If the entropic value of a life-organism
is increased, what is the result?
Court was angry with himself because he did not know. He should have been
grateful for not being able to see the future. .
"Sammy's changing into another form of life, that's certain. And he absorbs
energy directly through contact. I must take more precautions. He may be
dangerous later."
Abruptly there was an interruption. The door flew open, and Marion burst in~
Her brown hair was in disorder under her white cap.
"Stephen!" she cried through pallid lips. "There are men coming up the road!"
-
"What about it?" he asked, without interest.
"From the village. With torches. I'm afraid-"
"Those damned fools!" he snapped angrily. "Rouse out the men. Give them
rifles. Tell them to spread through the house and keep its front covered from
inside. When I give the word, they can fire."
Marion stared at him in horror.
      "You'd-murder those men?"     -
Court's eyes were icy as he returned her stricken gaze.
"Why not? They're afraid I have a contagious case here.


But they're afraid for their own precious skins. They'd be willing to burn
down the house-and kill Sammy. Well, it's lucky I've taken precautions. Do
what I say!"
His tone sent Marion racing out,
Growling an oath, Cotirt went to the front door. He opened it and stepped out
on the front porch. A bright moon revealed the scene. Before him the road
sloped steeply down to the village, with a few trees that were blots of shadow
on either side.
Torches flamed along the road. Twenty-five or thirty men
-possibly more-were advancing in ominous silence,
Court put his back against the door and waited. The ignorant fools! He was
trying to save their lives.
Quickly the mob formed a crescent about the porch. They were mostly villagers
and farmers. Under other circumstances, they would have dreamed and worked
away their lives without ever embarking on such a hazardous venture as this,
But now their work-worn faces were grim, and their sharp eyes narrowed with
deadly purpose.
Court unfolded his arms. Though he held no weapon, the mob drew back slightly.
Then one man, a lean, grizzle-haired oldster in overalls, stepped forward.
"What do you want?" Court asked quietly.
The old man scowled.
"We want some questions answered, Mr. Court. Are you harborin' a. case of the
Plague?"
"Yes,
The word was flatly emotionless, yet a mutter went up from the crowd.
"I s'pose you know that's contagious. There can't nothin' stop it."
'There is no danger of contagion," Court replied. "I have taken care of that."
He gestured at the flickering flames of the torches. "What do you wish to
do-kill my patient?"
"Nope," the spokesman stated. "We want you to send him away from here, to a
hospital. The papers say there ain't no way of stopping the Plague. I got two
kids myself, Mr. Court. The rest of us, we're family men. How'd you like it
if-"
"I tell you, there's no danger," Court snapped. His nerves, already tense with
overwork and sleeplessness, were frayed beyond endurance. "Get out, all of
you, or you'll regret Iti"
An ominous low roar went up from the mob. They surged forward, paused only
when Court lifted his hand. -
"Wait! I have a dozen men in the house, stationed at the


windows, with guns aimed- at you right now. Submachine-guns, some of them, and
rifles. We can protect ourselves from lynch law." -
The crowd wavered uncertainly. The oldster yelled a shrill protest. "We ain't
lynchers, Mr. - Court. We're just aimin' to proteOt our folks. We got a car
down the road a bit, and we aim to take your Plague victim to a hospital."
Court laughed ironically.
"You poor idiot! You just said the Plague is contagious."
"Sure it is. But we got rubber gloves, and cotton pads soaked in antiseptic to
tie over our mouths, and we'll wash in carbolic afterward. We just don't want
our folks to run any risks."
"Rubber gloves!" Court snorted. "Only thick lead can protect you from the
Plague. If you won't leave instantly, well use guns to convince you. And I
warn you, I won't hesitate to do that If it's necessary,"
"He ain't bluffing~" one of the mob said nervously. "I saw a muzzle up there
in that winder." -
"Don't worry about it," the spokesman said. "We're cousin' in, Mi. Court,
unless you bring the man out to us."
As the crowd surged forward, Court raised his pistol and took steady aim at
the leader.
"You set foot on the first step," he gritted, "and I'll put a bullet through
your head."
The old man walked slowly, quietly, up the steps. Behind him came the others.
Court's finger tightened on the trigger, yet he did not fire.
His face grew terrible at the conflict that raged within him, Stephen
Court-man of ice and iron-torn by puerile emotion? Shoot! That was the logical
thing to do. Shoot, to save Sammy, to save the experiment-from these ignorant
fools.
But the mob did not want to kill. Court knew that they were honest,
hard-working men, who loved their families and wanted to protect them from
danger. -
The nearest was only a few steps from him. But Court did not fire, nor give
the word that would have brought a searing blast from the upper windows. His
lips twisted in agonized indecision.
From within the house came a scream. The door flung open and Marion Barton
fled out, her face chalk-white.
       "Stephen! Quick!" -
       Court whirled, ignoring the besiegers.         -
       "What is Itr


"Sammy came into the lab! He was-"
A startled gasp came from the old man. He drew back, staring. A rippling wave
of fear shook the crowd that had shuf
- fled to the porch. With one arm around Marion, Court dragged her back. Just
then, something came out of the door.
He knew it was Sammy. But the metamorphosis had been incredibly accelerated.
Sammy was not even as human as he had been half an hour before.
His body could not be seen. A white shadow, wit1~i flickering nimbus edges,
paused on the threshold. The pallid glow emanating from Sammy's flesh had
become so brilliant that its lambent light entirely hid the frightful body.
Staring at him was like looking into the heart of an electric-light bulb,
though the illumination was not strong enough to be blinding.
A shining, roughly man-shaped shadow, It stood on the threshold. And it
whispered! A vague, wordless susurrus mm-inured out. Like the hum emitted by
some electric contrivance, it was enigmatic and unhuxnan.
The shadow lurched forward. Its shimmering arms went around the old man in
overalls. The spokesman shrieked as though the soul had been wrenched from his
body. Then he fell, his body oddly shrunken, pale and lifeless.
Panic struck the mob. In all directions they fled back. The thing that had
been Sammy seemed to glide down the steps
in pursuit. .1
"Oh, my God!" Court whispered. His face was drawn with pain as he slowly took
aim with his pistol. "Sammy-"
He did not finish. The-shot snarled out in the night. The glowing bulk was
unharmed. With his breath catching in his throat, Court pumped bullet after
bullet at it. It stumbled down the lawn, while the mob vanished along the
slope.
"No use!" Court gritted between his teeth. "It absorbs every kind of energy,
including kinetic."
He let out a shout. Glancing up, he pointed. From the windows above him came a
burst of sound. Submachine-guns and rifles rattled lethally, concentrating
their fire on the shining horror that moved into the night.
It vanished behind a tree and was gone. Marion gripped Court's arm.
"Poor Sammy! Can't we go after him?"
"That isn't Sammy," Court said grimly. "Not now. It-it's a horror, an alien
thing out of another universe, perhaps. Yes, I'm going after it, Marion, but
not till I've put on my lead


suit. I'm not sure I can capture It, even then." He blew across the smoking
muzzle of his gun. "A creature whose touch means instant death is loose in the
countryside. And I don't even know if it can be killed!"




CHAPTER XI

The Man from Carthage

Sciplo Agricola Africanus sat in a dungeon beneath the circus arena. Through a
barred grating, he watched one glac~iator disembowel another. The stroke, he
thought, was clean and good for the men from Gaul were like wolves, dark,
feral and quick. Scipio rather hoped he would be matched against them, rather
than against lions or an elephant. There was something about the feel of steel
matched against your own sword that put heart into a man.
An armored guard, coming along the corridor, pushed open the door of Scipio's
cell. His hawk face peered in,
"Your turn soon," he said.
"Good," replied Scipio, with a pleasant oath, "I grow tired of battling
fleas,"
The soldier chuckled as he bent to adjust a greave.
"By my Lares, you have courage! Too bad your dream failed. I would not have
objected to serving under such- a man as you."
"I failed because none of my men had the courage of a -rabbit," Scipio spat in
disgust. "Faith, we could have taken Carthage almost without bloodshed." -
"Had your army not fled, leaving you to face the Imperial Guard alone!" The
soldier shook his head, grinning wryly. "Nothing but trouble since you came to
Africa, Scipio. It was bad enough with those damned Romans yelling that
Carthage must be destroyed, but at least they had not tried to destroy it. And
what did you do?"
Scipio's eyes lighted. He was a huge, swarthy man, with the scarred face of a
gargoyle. His nose had been broken so often that it sprawled shapelessly awry.
Atop that monstrous face, the ringlets of short, curly black hair were
incongruous.
"What did I do?" the adventurer asked. "Faith, I fried to serve your king, but
he would not let me."
The guard choked and spluttered his outrage.
"Jupiter! You got drunk and dragged the king off to some low gambling helL No
wonder you had to flee to the mountains after that! Then you got some insane
idea about creating an independent city of your own. That might have worked,
if you had gone far enough into the Nubian country with your followers. But
you decided to take Carthage. Carthage!"
The soldier made an infuriating roar of merriment.
"Come within the reach of my manacled hands," Scipio invited pleasantly, "and
I'll tear off your head with considerable joy."
"Save that for the arena," said the soldier, moving back slightly. "Tonight
the cries will announce that the Carthaginian Scipio is no more. Only, you are
not a man of Carthage, come to think of it. Are you?"
"Why not?" The giant captive shrugged. "Rome is a melting pot. The blood of a
dozen laces mix in my veins. I am a citizen of Carthage now, at least for
awhile. By the way, how do I die?"
"Elephant. They have a huge tusker whom they've driven musth with rage and
hunger. You are to face him on equal terms, both of you unarmed." He glanced
cautiously over his shoulder. "I am to accompany you to the arena gate. And if
you happen to seize my sword and take it with you-Well, such things have
happened."
Scipio nodded. "Too bad you're not carrying a lance. However a sword must do.
I can spill the behemoth's blood before it tramples me. Thanks, soldier. If
you let me escape now, I'll make you a prince of the nation I intend to
establish."
"Listen to the lunatic," the guard said, with rapt admiration. "In chains,
penniless, and offering to make me a prince! A prince of dreams, mayhap.
Anyway, my vows are to Caesar, and not the Roman Imperator, either. So you
must remain a
captive."   -
The filthy straw rustled under Sciplo as he shrugged. A death-cry drifted in
from the arena, then the triumphant roar of some ferocious beast.
"Well," said the soldier, "your time has come."
"I wonder." There was a curious look in Scipio's deep-set eyes. "Lately I have
had a queer feeling, as though the gods were watching me. Perhaps. . . ."
He did not finish. More guards came, and the Carthaginian was unfettered and
escorted along an underground corridor. Almost naked, his brawny body gleamed
like mahogany in


the sharp contrasts of light and - shadow that' filtered in through bars. Then
the arena opened before them. Sciplo was thrust forward. He saw at his side
the friendly soldier, turned so that his sword-hilt was exposed.
With a grin and quick movement, Sciplo clutched the weapon and whipped it out.
Before the startled guards could move, he ran forward into the hot sands of
the arena. The soles of his feet- burned, then cooled as he halted in a patch
of reddened sand.
The blazing African sun flooded down in blinding whiteness. Scipio had only a
vague impression of the crowd that filled the circus. He could pick out no
individuals. He felt as though one vast entity, surging, whispering, watching,
surrounded him, and the head of the entity was -the canopied box of the Lord
of Carthage.
Scipio shifted his grip on the sword. He brushed the curly hair from his eyes
with one hand, and stood warily on the balls of his feet. A musth elephant,
eh? Well, no man could resist such an enemy, yet a man could die fighting. -
"Alas for my dreams of empire," the Carthaginian murmured, with a crookedly
sardonic smile. "Faith, I might have ruled the world, given time. And now I
must water the sand with my blood." -
He turned to -the Imperial box, lifting his hand in salute. The emperor
nodded, expecting to hear the usual, "We who are about to die-.-" of the
gladiators.
Scipio disappointed his host. At the top of his voice he howled the words that
would most enrage the onlookers.
"Carthage must be destroyed!"
A wave of fury, a gasp of astonishment and rage, rippled around the arena. The
emperor make a quick, angry gesture. Grinning, Scipio turned to see a barred
gate far across the sanded arena rise slowly.
For a few heartbeats there was silence throughout the circus. The blinding
white heat was oppressive. Steam curled up from the blood-stains on the sands.
Then the musth elephant pounded to the gate. Huge, monstrous, a gray, walking
vastness of animated dull savagery, he lurched through the gate and stood
motionless, only his bloodshot little eyes alive with hatred. The trunk did
not move, save for the tip, which swayed back and forth slightly.
A shadow darkened the arena as a cloud crossed the Sun, and then was gone. -
Scipio hefted the sword he held. It was a short-bladed


weapon, useless unless he could hurl it like a javelin. It was even too broad
to pierce an elephant's eye, the most vulnerable spot of the monster. Briefly
Sciplo thought of slicing off the elephant's trunk as far up as he could
reach. But that would still leave the tusks and mighty tree-trunk limbs that
could squash a man into red pulp.
"Well," Scipio said with grim amusement, "at least they had to use their
biggest elephant to kill me."
His gargoyle face twisted into a fearless grin. In the glaring light, he
resembled a teakwood statue, thewed like a colossus.
The elephant came forward slowly, its red eyes questing viciously until it saw
Scipio. It paused, and the trunk lifted, waving snakelike in the air. It
snorted angrily.
Again the shadow darkened the Sun, and this time it did not pass.
The Carthaginian had no time to look up. He bent slightly from the knees,
holding the sword high like a javelin.
The elephant broke into a lumbering trot. Its speed increased. Like the
Juggernaut, it bore down on him
Scipio had a flashing glimpse of the monster-flapping ears, murderously upheld
trunk, gleaming tusks. The thunder of its approach was growing louder, booming
in his ears. It loomed above him-.---
From the skies sprang a thunderbolt! Flaming with pale brilliance, the
crackling1 beam raved down. It caught the behemoth in mid-stride, bathed it in
shining radiance. And themonster vanished!
It was gone without a trace. The deep craters of its rush ended in the sand a
few yards from where the shocked Scipia crouched. From the spectators rose a
roar, terrified, imbelieving.
A golden ball of enormous size plunged down into the arena. Lightly as a
feather it grounded. A port in its hull sprang open.
Scipio saw a thin, pallid man, with the ascetic face of a Caesar. He was clad
in odd garments and was beckoning us-gently. Beyond him, Sciplo glimpsed a fat
Chinese whose round cheeks were quivering with excitement.
A spear flashed through the air, rang impotently against the golden hull.
Almost paralyzed with amazement, Sciplo ran forward, leaped into the ship.
What this miracle might be, he did not know, but it seemed to provide a means
of escape. Whether the pallid man was a god or a devil, at least he


seemed friendly. More important, to remain in the arena
meant death.      --
The port - slammed shut behind - Scipio. He bounded-through - the inner lock
and stood wide-legged, staring around. The sword was still gripped in his
hand. Fast himthe pallid man strode, and entered an Inner chamber. A quiver of
movement shook the ship as it lifted. The Oriental waddled into view and
beamed at Scipio.
"Relax, friend," he said, lisping the unfamiliar tongue. "You speak Latin?"
"Naturally," Scipio stated. "All the world does. Are you a god? I doubt it,
for only Bacchus and Silenus are obese, and their skins are not yellow."
The Oriental shook with laughter until he had to hold his heaving belly.
"I have heard of this Bacchus. A new god,1 but he is a good one. Sit down." He
waved toward a couch. "My name is Li Yang. Do you wish food?" -
Scipio shook his head and sat gingerly on the soft cushions.
"You called me friend?" he asked.   -
"I might better have called you comrade. Ardath saw the hidden possibilities
in you, dragon-face. He read your mind while you slept. - Ah, but you have
dreams of empire, poor fool!"
Li Yang shook his head, and his yellow cheeks swung pendulously. -
"Ill-luck dogs me," Scipio said lightly, grinning. "The gods hate me, so I
wear no crown."
"Nor wilj you. You are not ruthless enough. You could carve out an empire for
yourself, but you could not sit upon a throne. Under all thrones the snake
coils. You are too honest to be a kink, Scipio." - --
The Carthaginian had been about to answer, but he paused. His dark eyes
widened, and a flame sprang into them. Ponderously Li Yang turned.
Two figures stood on the threshold. One was Thordred, but Scipio had no eyes
for even that gigantic form. He was staring with a burning fixity at the
Atlantean priestess. -
She looked lovely indeed. Her delicate figure was veiled by a girdled robe,
from the hem of which her tiny toes peeped. Her golden hair hung loosly about
her shoulders, and framed the elfin features that showed interested
admiration.


"Jove's thunderbolt!" Scipio gasped. "Nay, but this is a goddess! This is
Venus herself!"
Jansaiya preened herself. Under her lashes the sea-green eyes watched Scipio
slumbrously. She basked in the frank, open gaze.
"This is ScipioP" the priestess asked.    -
She came forward and put a small, shapely hand on the Carthaginian's brawny
arm. He looked down at her, his gargoyle face alight with wonder.
"You know me? But who are you?"
"Jansaiya." The girl glanced over her shoulder. "And this is Thordred."
Scipio saw the giant for the first time, apparently. His gaze met and locked
with Thordred's smoldering glare. The two men stood silent. Scipio did not
notice when Jansaiya took her hand from his arm.
Li Yang's red lips pursed as he glanced from one to the other.
It was a sight worth seeing. Thordred was huge, elephantthewed, hairy as a
beast, with jutting beard and aquiline, handsome, features.
Sciplo, though slightly shorter, was almost as huge. His -gargoyle face grew
stone-hard. Thordred's cat's-eyes glittered. A silent enmity flamed in those
glares that met without speech.
Ardath broke the de~1lock by coming out of the laboratory. -
"We are moving out toward our orbit," he said, smiling.
"Soon it will be time to sleep again. Perhaps next time . . ." He sighed.
"Meanwhile, though Sciplo is not the super-mentality I need, he is a genius in
his way. Let me explain, warrior.
Scipio nodded from time to time as Ardath told his story. The Carthaginian's
quick brain grasped the situation without difficulty. -
"You will come with us?" Ardath asked at last. "Why not?" Scipio replied,
shrugging. "The world is not ready for such a man as I. In- later ages,
countries will recognine my worth and kneel at my feet." The granite face
cracked into a grin, and he glanced at Jansaiya. "Besides, I shall be in good
company. To bow many men is it given to know a goddess?'
Thordred growled under his breath while Li Yang


chuckled. The fat Oriental picked up his lute and strummed softly upon it. His
voice raised mellowly. -
"My love has come down from the Moon-lantern. In the heart of the lotus she
dwells. . . ."
"And now-" Ardath turned toward the laboratory. "I must adjust my controls. We
shall automatically fall into our orbit. For two thousand years we shall
sleep, and then revisit the Earth." -
He vanished into the next room.
"Fragrant are her hands as petals," Li Yang sang. "In her hair the stars
dance." -
Jansaiya smiled. Scipio grinned a silent, confident reply to Thordred's dark
scowL -
Humming power throbbed through the ship, swiftly grew louder. Li Yang
clambered awkwardly on a couch, gesturing for Scipio to follow his example.
Sleep poured from the monotonous sound. Idly Li Yang touched the strings of
his lute.
"Give me sweet dreams, dear goddess," he murmured.
Jansaiya reclined on a couch. When Scipio turned his head to watch her, her
green eyes met his.
Thordred moved stiffly forward. His hand was hidden from view behind him as he
stood beside the laboratory door.
The languorous humming grew louder, more compelling. Jansaiya slept. Li Yang's
pudgy hand fell from the lute. Scipio's eyelids drooped.
Footsteps sounded softly. Through the doorway came Ardath, smiling his gentle
smile. Perhaps he was dreaming that when he awoke, he would find- his quest at
an end. Not noticing Thordred beside him, he turned and fumbled over the wall
with rapidly slowing fingers.
The skin around Thordred's eyes wrinkled as he fought to remain awake. His
hand came up with the slow motion of encroaching torpor, and he gripped a
heavy metal bludgeon.
He crashed it down on Ardath's head.      ---
Without a sound, the Kyriàn crumpled and fell,- lay utterly motionless. Blood
seeped slowly through his dark hair.
Instantly Thordred lunged through the doorway and reeled toward an instrument
panel. If be could throw a single switch, the sleep-inducing apparatus would
be shut off- Louder the humming grew. Its vibration shuddered through every
atom of Thordred's body. In the next room was absolute silence.


Thordred fell without feeling that he was doing so. The shock awakened him. He
dragged himself to his knees and crawled on, his hand clawing desperately.
One finger touched the switch and helplessly slipped down. The giant Earthman
crouched, shaking his head slowly.
Then he collapsed and sprawled out, silent. The yellow eyes were filmed with
cataleptic sleep.
The humming rose to a peak that gradually began to die away. Inside the golden
ship, nothing stirred when it reached its orbit and robot controls made swift
adjustments. Around the Earth the vessel hurtled.
The lute fell from Li Yang's couch. A string snapped.




CHAPTER XII -

The Man from Earth

Stephen Court raced his roadster along a Wisconsin road as he peered through
sun-glasses at the lonely countryside. Beside him, Marion Barton huddled like
a kitten in the seat, the collar of her white blouse open for coolness.
"How long?" she asked. -
"Couple of hours," Court grunted. "We pass through Madison first. The
'dron~e's fifty miles south of there."
Marion drew a notebook from her purse and thumbed through it rapidly.
"Everything's checked, I think," she reported absently. "Except the test
flight-. I don't believe the Terra was thoroughly inspected."
"Damn si11y name the papers gave the ship," Court said wryly. "It didn't need
a name. It'll make the flight, all right."
"And if it doesn't?" -
He shrugged indifferently without glancing at her. "Nothing much lost. For
more than a month now, I've been working on the Plague-since Sammy got
away-and I'm still at sea. Earth's science just isn't advanced enough. But
perhaps I can find some more advanced alien science in that golden ship.
Anyhow, we'll see." - -
"Why must you go alone?" she insisted, her voice not quite steady. -
"Because there's only room for one. We can't take chances.


There will be little enough air and sup?lies as it Is. I'm the best man- for
the job, so I'm the one to go. - -
"But suppose something happens!"
"I can't stop the Plague by myself. X is still unknown, as far as I'm
concerned. The only real clue so far is entropy. I know that X is catalyzed by
some element in Earth's atmosphere. It speeds up the entropy of a living
organism, changes it into some form of- life that might exist, normally, a
billion years from now. But it's so alien!"
He switched on the radio. A news commentator was talking excitedly.
"Around Pittsburgh, martial law has been declared. W. P. A. workers are
blasting out a deep trench around the city, and pouring deadly acids into it.
Whether this will form an effective barrier, no one knows. The rivers are
filled with floating corpses. The contagion is spreading with great speed.
Nearly a hundred of the Carriers have been seen in Pittsburgh, and the bridges
are choked with refugees. . .
So there were still mOre of the shining monsters.. Sammy had been - one of the
first, and he was still wandering at large, since nothing could capture or
destroy him.
"The Carriers kill instantly by touching their victims. Lead-plated suits are
being issued to the guardsmen, but these do not always work. It depends on the
quantity of energy emitted by a Carrier. Dynamite has been placed at the New
York bridges and tubes. The mayor is ready to isolate Manhattan~ if necessary,
for protection.
"The war is at a standstill. Troops are mutinying by the thousands. Every
metropolis is being vacated. We estimate about three thousand Carriers now
exist, widely scattered over the Earth. From Buenos Aires-" -
With an impatient gesture, Court shut off the radio.
"No hope," he said. "The Plague is steadily on the increase. I must get to the
golden ship and back as soon as possible." -
They sat in silent despair as the car swept along the deserted highways. The
landscape was incongruously peaceful. The green, rolling hills of Wisconsin
stretched around them. A broad, lazy river flowed quietly beside the road. The
only sound in the stillness was the humming of the motor.
Marion leaned her head back and stared up - at the cloudless blue sky. All she
could do now was let her thoughts drift. Suppose the Plague had never come to
Earth. She - and Stephen might be driving along togeth~r, under this same sky,
and perhaps- -


She blinl~ed out of her reverie and lit a cigarette with unsteady fingers.
"Thanks," Court said, and took it gently from her.
She lit another for herself.
"Funny," she said. -
Court nodded grimly, staring ahead.
"Yes, I know. All this changing-'Giving place to the new.' But Cod knows what
the new order will be. A world peopled by beings of pure energy, eventually
consuming all their natural food, and dying oIL Then there will be only a dead
planet."
"Wifi it still be as lovely?" she asked softly.
"Lovely?" Court frowned, seemed to notice the landscape for the first time.
His gaze swept put over the roffing hills and the placid river. "Yes," he said
finally, in a curious voice, "it is rather lovely. I wasn't aware of it
before."
"I didn't think you ever would be," she said. -
He flushed. "I have had so little time-"
"It wasn't that. You never looked at the world or at human beings. You looked
through microscopes and telescopes.'
He glanced at the girl and his hand went out in a gesture that was somehow
pathetic. Then his lips tightened. He drew back, again clutching the wheel
firmly. He looked ahead grimly without speaking, not seeing the tears that
hung on Marion's lashes. .~ -
They reached the air field soon after. The Terra had been wheeled out. A
shining, golden cylinder, eight feet in diameter and twenty feet long, its
ends were slightly tapered and bluntly ro, nded. It gleamed in contrast to the
rich black loam on which it lay.
"Small," Court criticized, "but we had no time to make a larger one. It'll
have to do."
He helped Marion from the car and together they went toward the Terra. A group
of mechanics and workers approached.
"All set," the foreman stated. "She's warmed up and -ready, Mr. Court."
"Thanks." He halted at the open port. "Well. . . ."
"Good luck," Marion breathed.
Court stared at her. Curious lines that had never been there before now
bracketed his mouth. He looked away at the green hillside, and then back at
the girl. His lips parted involuntarily, but with an effort he controlled
himself.


"Thanks," he said. "Good-by, Marion. I-Fll see you soon."
He entered the ship and closed the port behind him. Marion stood quite silent,
her fingers blindly shredding her handkerchief to rags.
The Terra rose ~smoothly, swiftly mounted straight up. Smaller and smaller it
grew, a glittering nugget of gold against the blue sky. Then it was merely a
speck-and it was gone.
Marion turned and walked slowly back to the car. Her lips were bravely
scarlet, yet they quivered against the pallor of her face.
      *     *     0


Court sat before the control panel, peering ahead through a porthole.
"Wonder what effect radiation in space will have?" he murmured. "It's leaded
polaroid glass, of course, but the other ship had no portholes at all. They
probably used some sort of televisor equipment that's beyond our contemporary
science."
He could see nothing - but the blue of the sky. It grew darker, shading to a
deep purple. Faint stars began to twinkle, until countless points of light
were glittering frostily.
"Sirius, Jupiter, Mars." Court sighed. -
With the secret of space travel mastered, man could reach all the planets.
With sufficient power, the interstellar gulfs might even be bridged.. But how
long would man continue to exist on Earth?
Hours merged..into an unending monotony of watchful, weary vigilance. The
Terra plunged on, gathering speed.
"Meteors might be a menace," Court mused, "unless the
- magnetic field deflects them. But that would work only on ferrous bodies.
Still, nothing's happened so far." He changed his course slightly. "I'm
doubtful about that space-armor. Spatial conditions can't be duplicated on
Earth. Well, I've taken other precautions."
He had had the door made to fit exactly the port that had been telescopically
visible on the golden ship. -
A queer excitement grew stronger within Court as he neared his destination. He
could not keep away~ from the transparent ports, for he was desperately
anxious to see the golden ship. Some subtle insinct told him that the
rendezvous might even be more important than he had-realized.
How long had the space ship maintained its orbit beyond


the atmosphere? Whence had it come? What strange secrets might it hold?
When Court found that his fingers were trembling slightly on the controls, he
grimly repressed his nervousness. But he could not help wondering.
Centuries-eons, perhaps-might have passed while the golden vessel circled the
planet. And now Stephen Court, man of- Earth, was questing out to what
destiny? He did not know, but some premonition of the in- -credible future
must have come to him, for he shuddered.
"Somebody's walked over my grave," he muttered, with a sardonic smile at the
whimsy. "Well, it won't be long now."
Again he turned to the port, and his breath caught in his throat. - -
The golden - ship hung there, a mysterious, gleaming cylinder against the
star-bright background of black space. Swiftly it grew larger. -
As Court decelerated, his face was curiously pale. The Terra was easy to
handle. He deftly pulled it alongside the other craft.
Hull scraped -against alloyed hull, till finally the two ports
- were flush together. Court threw a lever and -hastily spun a wheel.- He was
breathing unevenly, and his eyes were glowing with excitement.
The ships were held firmly together by an airtight rubber-old ring.
He rose, donned a ga€-mask, and picked up a revolver. Then he went to the port
and gingerly swung it open. The air remained in the ship.
Facing him was a surface of yellow metal, a scarcely visible crack showing
that it was an oval door. Court pushed, but it did not yield. A blow torch
might cut it, and certainly acids would bite through. But Court did not resort
to these immediately. He fumbled with - a powerful electro-magnet and worked
unavailingly for a time.
At last, in desperation, he used acids to eat a small hole through the outer
hull. The air that rushed out was thin and dead, but far from - poisonous~
Grunting, Court reached through the gap and managed to open the port.
What he expected, he did not know. His nerves were strung to wire-edge,
unbearably tense, now that he was face to face with the solution of the
mystery. The port opened, and for a moment Court was weak with reaction. -
He saw nothing but a short corridor, about sIx feet Ion featureless and
vacant. Naturally there would be an airloc


for safety's sake. He should have expected one. At the farther end was another
door, but this one had a lever set in it.
Court walked forward and moved the lever slightly; The port swung open. Air
gusted from the Terra to the golden ship. He stepped across the threshold and
halted, staring around. -
He was in a good-sized room, apparently only one of several in this huge
vessel. Open doorways gaped in the walls. The chamber was bare, with nothing
but a few couches.
But on the couches lay human beings!
A gigantic gargoyle-faced man was naked, save for a clout, his bronzed body
glistening in the dim illumination that came from no discernible source.
Another man, Oriental, fat as a Buddha, sprawled untidily on a pile of
cushions. On the floor beside him lay a lute with one broken string. And there
was a girl.
An elfin creature with ivory skin, her lips curved into a tender smile, she
slept with her golden hair partially veiling her face.
On the floor near a doorway lay another figure, face down. Court crossed to it
and turned it over. He stared at a slight form and chiseled, patrician
features. That face had some vague yet unmistakable touch of the alien visitor
to Earth.
Something caught Court's eye beyond the threshold of the next room. A huge
body sprawled there, one hand outstretched toward an instrument paneL
Court strode toward it. -
He haLted, realizing that he was in a laboratory-but no Earthly one! He
blinked in astonishment at sight of the apparatus surrounding him. Then,
forcing down his curiosity, he knelt beside the prone figure and turned it on
its back.
The man's face was handsome in an arrogantly ferocious way, though a black
spade-beard jutted from his pugnacious chin. The giant lay motionless, and
Court saw that no breath lifted the hairy barrel chest. Nevertheless he made
careful tests, only to realize that the man was pulseless, apparently dead.
For some reason, Court was not convinced. Could corpses remain - in such a
perfect state of preservation? Was there not such a thing as catalepsy? He
returned to the others, and found that they were equally lifeless, equally
well preserved.
There was the long chance of a wild hunch. Court returned to his own ship and
came back with heating pads and stimulants. He paused to consider.


Which one should he attempt to revive first? The girl? The Chinese? Why not
the bearded man? His presence In the laboratoxy-the heart of the
ship-indicated that he was probably a scientist.
With a grunt of decision, Court went to the prostrate giant and put down his
burden.
Warmth must come first. The heating pads were arranged in armpits and thighs.
He followed them with adrenalin, with brandy, artificial
respiration.      -
Court placed his hands in the proper position and forced air horn the giant's
lungs. Then back, and down again. Down, and up..
With a surge and a rush, the man came back to life. He flung Court off with a
swift gesture and sprang up. His hand closed on the switch he had been
striving for.
- But he halted and whirled, his yellow cat's-eyes glowering at the smaller
man.
He said something Court did not understand.
Bising to his feet, Court kept one hand on his gun as he watched the giant
warily.
Abruptly the blackbeard strode past Court and into the next room. When he
returned, he was grinning. He stopped at the door and stood with arms akimbo.
After a moment he spoke slowly in Latin.
It was a language that C~urt, being a scientist, had studied with some
thoroughness.
"I come from Earth," he explained. "The third planet of this Sun. I mean no
harms I awoke you-"
The other nodded. "I am Thordred. But there is no time to ta'k now. Tell me,
swiftly as you can, how you found us."
Court obeyed. As he talked, Thordred went into the adjoining room and stood
contemplating the silent figures. He stooped beside the slim body on the
floor.
"Dead, I think. Yet-this is your ship?"
He pointed toward the port.
"Yes."
"Well, you will not need it. My ship is yours now." A gleam of amusement shone
in the- yellow eyes as Thordred lifted Ardath's body and carried him into the
Terra. He paused to study the controls. After making a careful adjustment, he
returned.
The door of the Terra he closed behind him, then both ports of the larger
ship. Court felt a touch of apprehension.


"Thordred," he said with quick anger in his voice. "What
are you doing?"   --
- The giant turned to a vision screen in the wall.          -
He flicked it on.
"Looki"
On the screen, Court saw the Terra, flashing away through -space. He felt a
sudden pang that chilled to cold rage.
"'What right-"
Thordred grinned. "Slowly, Stephen Court. I have said that this ship is yours.
As for hirn"-black hatred shone in the yellow eyes-"be was a renegade and a
traitor. He tried to kill us all. He is dead now, but science and magic may
bring even a dead man back to life. So Ardath is going where there is neither
science nor magic-toward the Sun!"
"The Sun!"
"Yes. I set the controls on your ship. They were not difficult to understand.
Ardath is doomed, if a dead man can die again. And now we will attend to the
others."
He glanced at the silent figures on the couches.
"We'll awaken them?"
"One at a time. The girl first." Thordred hesitated. "Revive Jansaiya, Court,
while I adjust the apparatus. We are going back to Earth."
"Good." Court smiled. "We need your help."
His throat felt achingly dry, for at last his search was at an end. With the
science of this Thordred added to his own, the Plague could be fought, perhaps
conquered.
Thordred was smiling triumphantly as he went into the laboratory.



CHAPTER XIII

The Sleepers Awake

Court busied himself with the golden-haired girL Jansaiya's feline,
sophisticated green eyes, and the vague suggestion of cruelty about her lips,
were not apparent now as she lay in cataleptic sleep. Rather she seemed some
elfin creature out of Earth's myth-haunted past, a daughter of Neptune.
- The gossamer, violet-tinted robe scarcely veiled the alluring curves of her
slim form. Her lashes lay golden on the rose-petal cheeks. She seemed so
helpless, so childlike. Utterly trusting, she lay curled like a kitten on the
couch.


The poignant loveliness of the Atlantean girl was suddenly an aching stab in
Court's heart. He felt no passion for her, no infatuation. She was too
completely removed from mundane life for that. But Jansaiya curiously seemed
to typify and embody for Court something he had never known. Out of the
world's youth, she was youth, a symbol of the dreams that most men know before
they grow too old.
Staring down at Jansaiya, Court realizpd that he had never known youth and
wondrous dreams. Unexpectedly he thought of Marion Barton, whom he had left on
Earth. He put her out of his mind by working swiftly.
Occasionally Thordred came to the door of the laboratory to watch, but as time
wore on the giant appeared less often. Though he had learned much when the
thought-transference helmet had given him the knowledge of Ardath's brain,
Thordred had not acquired the Kyrian's super-mentality.
Guiding the ship back to Earth was a difficult task. Besides, he was busy
making certain adjustments on the thought-helmet. So he remained in the
laboratory, and did not see Jansaiya waken.
Court had turned away to stare curiously at the other two sleepers, Li Yang
and Scipio the Carthaginian. The giant warrior puzzled him. Since the man wore
only a breech-clout, Court found it hard to guess his origin. The color of the
skin was Negroid, but the thii1, firm, harsh lips and the hair certainly were
not. Li Yang, though, was obviously an Oriental. What did that mean? Had this
space ship actually come from another world?
The golden-haired girl might have been born on an alien planet-perhaps even
Thordred and the sleeping, naked giant. But the Oriental? Court frowned, and
then glanced at Jansaiya as she stirred.
She had been breathing regularly for some time. Now her lashes fluttered and
the green eyes opened. When she looked up at Court, a soft, wordless sound of
inquiry murmured from the red lips.
"Athloyee s'ya voh-"
Court matched the girl's language, which he did not know was Atlantean, with
Latin. -
"Don't try to talk yet. You are safe."
- The brows wrinkled in puzzlement as the cruel gaze scmtinized him.


"I am safe? Of course. But where is Ardathr'
"Dead. Thordred-"
- Court paused, startled at the look on Jansaiya's face. He saw fear, and
incredulous amazement, and a soft smile of evil triumph that repelled him. -
"Dead?" She turned her head and looked across the room. "Li Yang. Yes. And
Scipio. But Thordred, is he dead also?" -
"No. Shall I get him?"
Court rose, but halted as a slim hand touched him.
"Wait. Who are your'
Before he could reply, Thordred's harsh voice broke in.
"Jansaiyal You are awake? Good!"
The giant strode into the room, his amber eyes intent on the girl. Briefly
they flickered toward Court.
"We are in the atmosphere now. There is not much time. Come with me."
Thordred made a quick, stealthy signal to Jansaiya, which Court failed to
understand. The Atlantean girl pursed her lips but said nothing. -
In the laboratory, Thordred pointed to a chair. -
"Sit down, Court. Put on this helmet."
He picked up a bulky head-piece, crowned with helical wires, and extended it.
Court hesitated. -
"What is it?" he asked cautiously.
- "Nothing dangerous. It will teach you my language, and teach me yours.
Certain memory patterns-knowledge of our native tongue-will be transferred
from my brain to yours, and vice versa. Come."
Thordred placed a duplicate helmet on his own head and sat down. Some
inexplicable impulse made Court resist.
"I'm not sure-"
The giant grinned suddenly.
"I told you I mean you no harm. If I had wanted to kill you, I could have done
it long ago. I need your knowledge, and you need mine." Thordred - chuckled at
some secret thought. "And it is best that we know each other's lan- -guage."
"All right."
Court nodded and slipped the helmet on his head. Simultaneously Thordred
leaned forward and touched a keyboard. There was a whining crackle of released
energy. Court felt the momentary agony of intolerable stricture about his
skull,


then it was gone. The scene before him was blotted out by a curtain of
darkness. He lost consciousness.
It seemed scarcely a second later when he awoke. Painfully opening his eyes,
he saw that the laboratory was empty. His head ached fearfully. The helmet,
however, was gone, as he discovered by investigating with his hands.
"Awake, eh?" The words, were unmistakably in English. Thordred stood on the
threshold. He went to a shelf, took a flask from it, and gave it to Court.
"Drink this. It's a stimulant. Not like your-what was it-brandy, but equally
potent."
Court gulped the fluid, which was tasteless -and incredibly cold. Immediately
his headache was gone. He glanced up at the giant.
"You learned English, I see. That helmet's a handy gadget. But I didn't learn
your language!"
"No," Thordred admitted. "The adjustment wasn't quite accurate. But it doesn't
matter. There's plenty of time. Meanwhile, as you say, I can talk English.
Only that was necessary for us to be able to discuss scientific principles."
Stephen saw the common sense of that. There were no ancient Latin terms for
modern scientific theories and devices.
"Where are we now?" he asked.
"On Earth." Thordred glanced searchingly at him. "Court, I'll be frank with
you. I learned more than merely your language from your mind. The Plague that
worries you, for example. I acquired your memory of that."
"You did?"
Court's dark face twisted in a scowl as he felt the premonition of danger.
Just hew much had Thordred learned from him? He shrugged, knowing that it did
not matter. The bearded giant was a friend, the only strong ally on Earth. Why
look for trouble where none existed?
"I've decided what's best to be done," Thordred said. "This Plague-I know no
more about it than you do. I don't know its origin or nature, nor any way of
defeating it."
Court leaped tb his feet, a sick emptiness in his stomach.
"Thordred! With your science and mine, we should be able to find some way of
conquering it."
"There's only one way. Earth is doomed. Anyone who remains will eventually be
destroyed. But this is a space ship, Court, and it isn't necessary for us to
wait for destruction." With a lifted hand, Thordred forestalled interruption.
"Wait. There are other planets where life is possible, where the


Plague doesn't exist. We can carry from fifty to seventy passengers,inen and
women. That will be enough to start a new
-race and civilization on another world."-      -
"No!" Court scarcely knew he spoke. "You mean go off and leave the world to
doom?"
"What good would it be to stay? We'd merely guarantee our own destruction.
You're a strong, intelligent man, Court, -the sort of person I want in the
civilization I shall build. That's why I did not kill you."
Court's eyes narrowed. There was a dead silence. Thordred's chill glance did
not falter.
"I can kill you, even now, quite easily," he went on slowly. "But the choice
is yours. Join me, serve me with your fine brain and muscles, and you need not
die. What's your answer?" -
Court was silent, trying to analyze his feelings. Of course his anxiety to
defeat the Plague was purely scientific. How could- he, a super-intellect,
feel any sympathy for ordinary men and women? What did it matter if Earth
died, as long as a new civilization would be built on a distant, safer world?
A bell rang sharply through the ship. When Thordred flicked on a vision
screen, Court stared at it.
The space ship had landed in what seemed to be a park. Suddenly he recognized
it as Central Park, in New York. About -the ship, a cordon of police was
keeping back a surging crowd. A small group of uniformed men huddled close to
the hull, using an acetylene torch to burn through the metal.
Thordred grinned. "Perhaps I could have landed in a less populated spot, but
I'm impregnable, with the weapons at my command. One flash of -a certain ray,
and that crowd will be burned to cinders."
"You don't intend to--" Court heard himself saying.
"But I do. The sooner Earth learns my power, the better!" Thordred turned and
went to a control board. Stephen Court stared at him. The emotions he had
rigidly subdued all his life were flooding up into that cold brain of his. But
it was not cold now. Burning in Court's mind was the face of Marion Barton,
tender with humanity. He saw the face of old Sammy, brown and wrinkled. Sammy
had sacrificed himself for an ideal-an ideal in which Court did not believe.
He had not believed in it till now. Court's heritage, the basic humanity in
him, suddenly flooded through the artfficial barriers of restraint. He had
fought the Plague to save men
and women from horrible death, though he had no~ realized his true motive till
now. Falsely he had told himsel! that he was a scientific machine. He bad
almost hypnotized himself into believing it. But all along, Court realized
nciw, his motives had been those of common humanity.
A super-mentality, perhaps, but first of all he was a man! He would
instinctively fight, to protect those weaker than himself, even against
insuperable odds.
Court's breath caught in his throat as he saw Thordred push a lever in the
control board. With silent desperation he hurled himself at the boarded giant.
He was hurled back by a paralyzing shock. Thordred whirled, his mouth gaping.
As Court tensed himself for another leap, the giant halted him with a lifted
hand.
"You fool, you can't penetrate this force screen around my body. Stay where
you are!"
Court did not move, but his lean figure quivered with sup- -pressed fury.
"You have your science, Thordred, but so have L"
"Your science?" Thordred bellowed. He thrust out a huge hand, gripped Court.
"Listen to me! I told you I learned more from you than your language. That was
true. I drained your brain of all the knowledge it held. Your memory is mine
now."
Court went sick as the import of the words struck home. His gaze went from
Thordred's face, moved swiftly about the laboratory for some weapon. But the
apparatus was utterly unfamiliar to him. Yet it had to be based on rigid
scientific principles that would be the same in any universe.
Court's mind worked' with frantic speed, trying to find some coherent pattern.
Levers, buttons, wiring, transparent tubes-each one had its definite part. On
one panel, several red lights were flashing on and off. Below each light,
Court recognized what must have been push-buttons.
There were two possible answers. Either the switchboard had some connection
with Thordred's death ray, of which he had spoken, or else it was part of an
alarm system. It was probably an alarm system, since Thordred was busy at
another instrument panel. The police outside the ship were trying to bum
through a port, and the red light was flashing. The button beneath that light,
Court decided, probably opened the door. -
His- face was immobile as he shrugged, deliberately letting his shoulders
droop despairingly. Thordred's mouth


twisted into a triumphant grin. He half turned from his prisoner, and his hand
touched the lever again. -
And then Court sprang-not at Thordred. He leaped toward the panel where the
red light - glowed His finger stabbed out and depressed the buttoni



CHAPTER XIV

The Plague Sirikee

Thorcired's roar came too late. A burst of sound welled into the ship. Men
were shouting, and footsteps tramped loudly on the metal floor of the
air-lock. Court sped to meet them. His hands lifted above his head, he was
shouting warning. The skin of his back crawled with expectation of an attack.
- But Thordred did not pursue. Instead, there came a sizzling crackle from
behind Court. Strong hands caught him, and he found himself in the midst of a
group of police. He turned.
Across the door of the laboratory, a veil of wavering light flickered. Court
seized the arm of an officer to prevent him from moving toward the hazy glow.
"Wait! That's dangerous."
"What do you mean? Who are you?"
"Never mind that now. Shoot through that light, but don't go near it. You may
be electrocuted."
The leader of the group, a gray-haired, bulky man, stared. "I know you. You're
Stephen Court. I've seen your pictures in the paper. What is all this about,
anyhow?"
Court swiftly noted the insignia of rank on the man's blue sleeve. -
"There's no time now, Sergeant. There's a kifier beyond that light barrier.
He's got to be stopped!" -
"But we can't shoot down a man on your word."
Court sucked in his breath, then his hand went out in a -blurring motion. -
Grabbing a heavy revolver from one of the officers, he whirled and pumped
bullets at the barrier of fire. Flame crackled and snarled. The bullets could
not penetrate the barrier. Half-melted, they dropped to the floor,
The revolver was wrested from his hand. The sergeant eyed him in amazement,
holding the smoking gun. -


"I tell you-"
Court made a gestui~e of- despair as he heard a low whine,
rising in pitch and intensity, throbbing through the ship. He
knew that Thordred was busy in the laboratory. He tried a
new tack. -
"This ship may be blown up at any minute. Get your men out. Keep the crowd
back," He hesitated, then pointed -to the unconscious forms of the tbinese and
the gargoyle-faced giant on their couches. "Get them out, too."
Jansaiya, the Atlantean girl, was nowhere in sight, and there was not time to
search for her.
The menace - of explosion the sergeant could understand. He issued swift
orders. His men swarmed out of the ship, carrying the cataleptic men.
Court followed. He could not guess what Thordred would do now, but he
suspected that the killer might loose his death rays on the mob. Orders ran
from one officer to another. The crowd was pushed back, milling, asking
questions, shuffling unwillingly.
Standing at the sergeant's side, Court bit his lip in indecision. What now?
Thordred was impregnable behind his force screen. Without equipment, Court
could do nothing. With the right apparatus, - he knew, he could find the
vibration-rate of the screen and neutralize it. But there was no equip. ment
here.
"This got anything to~do with the Plague?" the sergeant said. "We're
evacuating New York, you know."
"What? Evacuating New York!"
"Yeah. The Plague'a hit us. The city's a death-trap, with eight million people
here. Martial law's been declared, though, and everything's under control. The
whole city's moving out before the Plague spreads."
Court nodded, staring at the ship.
"Well, clear the park and get some planes to bomb our friend there. I don't
know if explosive will harm him, but it's worth trying while there's still
time. As for those two unconscious men you took out of the ship, get them to a
hospital. We'll-"
There was a sudden interruption. From the golden hull, a ray of cold green
brilliance probed.- As it shot toward Court, he felt a wave of icy chill. All
the strength was abruptly drained from his body. He felt himself falling. . .
The ray flamed brighter, turned to yellow, then to white. It splashed in pale
radiance over the sergeant. His strong face


seemed to melt, the flesh blackening in cindery horror over the
bone-structure. The officer' dropped without a sound.
Through filming eyes, Court saw the golden space ship rise from its resting
place. It shot up and hovered. Fleeing abruptly into the western skies, it was
gone! -
When the ray touched Court, it had not been strong enough to kill, only to
paralyze. But the sergeant was hor
- ribly dead.
Court felt himself slipping down into the black pit of Un- -consciousness. His
last memory .was that of some small bird wheeling above him against the blue.
Then darkness took him.
      0     *     *-


Hearing returned to him first. The sound was confused and chaotic. Court lay
motionless, striving to analyze it. As if from a vast distance, he seemed to
hear a babble of voices faintly mumbling what sounded like gibberish. Piercing
through this was a medley of shrill whistles and sirenlike noises that were
utterly inexplicable.
Then Court opened his eyes, looked straight up at a bare white ceiling.
Sunlight made square patterns on it.
He could move, he discovered. Without difficulty he sat up, found that he was
in one of a row of cots that ran down the length of a long room. He was in a
hospital!
Court's voice cracked when he cried out. He tried again, but roused only an
echo. Wonderingly he rubbed his chin and gasped in amazement. A beard? He must
have been unconscious for two weeks, at least!
He rose, shivering in his regulation hospital nightgown. Though the windows
were closed, the room was icy cold. Rocking weakly on his feet, Court looked
around.
The man in the next bed looked familiar. It was the obese Oriental he had last
seen in the golden space ship! The man lay silent, motionless, no breath
lifting his huge paunch. -
In the cot beyond lay the scar-faced giant, the man who had resembled a
gladiator. He, too, was apparently dead or cataleptic. -
Some of the other beds were occupied, -Court saw. He made a quick
investigation. Strangers, and dead, all of them. Some had plainly died of
starvation and thirst. The blankets in most cases were tumbled and twisted,
and some of the bodies lay on the floor, whej~e they had apparently flung
themselves.


One grizzled oldster was huddled in a heap near the door, his skinny hand
still outstretched for aid that could never come.
The hospital must have been deserted. But what could -have ~aused medical men
to forsake their patients? Physicians do not break the Hippocratic Oath so
easily. That meant- The Plague!
His throat tight, Court stumbled to a table where a carafe of water stood. It
was stagnant with long standing and half evaporated, but he gulped down a
repulsive swallow.
A bided newspaper on the table caught his gaze. Hastily he folded the paper to
the first page. Flaring headlines greeted him. -

PLAGUE STRIKES NEW YORK!

20 Carriers Reported in Manhattan;

Mayor Orders City Evacuated!

Hastily llnotyped columns gave the story. All over Greater New York, the
Plague had suddenly appeared. In Queens, Brooklyn, the Bronx, from Harlem to
the Battery-the shining men, harbingers of weird death, had come into being.
Thinking the invasion had arrived by way of Jersey and, -the surrounding area,
the mayor had directed the evacuation to take place northward. But in the box
labeled "Latest News Bulletins," it bec~ne -apparent that the infection was
spreading with fatal speed. Among eight millions of people, the Plague ran
like wildfire.
Well, judging by his -beard and the date of the paper, that had been two weeks
ago. What was the country like now?
Court went to the window and stared out. The bleak, snow-covered expanse of
Central -Park was far below. Small, irregular dark blotches lay on the
whiteness. Were they bodies?
Court found a telephone and jiggled the receiver impatiently. Not eyen the
dial-tone answered him. New York must be entirely deserted, save by the dead!
Again he went to the window. This time he saw a shining oval of light, dwarfed
by distance, gliding under-the trees in the park. A Carrier. . .
Court knew he could not remain in New York. With a nod of decision, he glanced
at the two motionless figures on the cots beside his own. Hastily he began to
gather equipment. He saw a use for the Oriental and the giant. He could not


leave them here, frozen in cataleptic sleep, even if he did not think that
their knowledge might prove valuable.
He used heat, stimulants and artificial respiration. The sthnulants were easy
to procure after a trip down the corridor into adjoining wards. It was harder
to find adrenalin. Court had to break down a door before locating the drug,
but fi
nally he was ready.     -
Electricity, rather than gas, supplied the hospital. He knew there would be no
current now. Court hesitated. Frowning, he stared out the window. He heard
again the distant din that had awakened him-the faint hooting, and the low
mumble of far voices. -
Radios, of course! Innumerable radios had been left turned on when the
evacuation had taken place, and they were still broadcasting. That meant there
was still electricity. Relieved, Court found heating pads and pressed them
into place about his two patients.
Little artificial respiration was necessary. Under the shock of the adrenalin,
first the giant, and then the Oriental, stirred.
They wakened almost together. -.
Court gave a gasp of relief. Till then he had not realized just how much his
fortnight of hypnotized slumber had weakened him. Despite slowed and retarded
metabolism, he had not eaten nor drunk for weeks. Shivering, he sank down on a
cot and watched his patients slowly and gradually awaken.
There was so much to do! He must communicate with -these two. But what
language did they speak? Would they be able to understand Latin? After that,
there would be so many things! Find out what had happened, leave New York
safely- "But the first thing," Court murmured, "is to stow some
food under my belt. No," he resolved, glancing down at his nightgown. "The
first thing I need is a pair of pants!"



--    CHAPTER XV -

Under the Plague

It was nearly an hour later when Court finally finished his story and learned
from Li Yang and Scipio their own tale. Luckily both understood Latin. When
Court's knowledge of the language failed, he pieced it out in Greek, which
Scipio knew well.


"I am famil3ar with all the tongues spoken around the Middle Sea-the
Mediterranean," the huge Carthaginian stated. "This English of yours sounds
like a hybrid language, a mixture of Latin, Greek, Coth,' and Zeus knows what
else. However, -I will learn it. We had a saying that those in Helvetia had
best do as the Helvetians do, though all they generally did was freeze." -
- Scipio chuckled deep in his barrel chest.
"We have a saying that jackasses bray at inopportune moments," said Li Yang
blandly. "Therefore, hold your tongue, Scipio, while we make some plans." He
sighed ponderously. "So Ardath is dead, eh? Eheu, he was a wise man, and a
good- one. Also I have lost my lute, so I grieve." -
"I scarcely knew Ardath," Scipio confessed, "though he saved my life, of
course. But the nymph-girl, Jansaiya-I needed only a glimpse of her to lose my
heart and soul." The gargoyle face twisted in pained memory. "What had we best
do, Court?" -
"Get out of New York. After that, we can make our plans. I want to get back to
my laboratory. But first-well, come along."
Court rose and led the others into the corridor. Li Yang shivered as the chill
wind rustled under his scanty gown.
"The world has grown colder," he mourned. "Not even on the Northern steppes
did I feel such a knifelike blast."
Court was unavailingl~' pressing the elevator buttons.
"Guess they're not working," he said wryly. "That means we'll have to walk all
the way down. It'll keep us warm, anyway. Watch out for an~"Carriers."
Scipio shook his head as the three hurried down the stairs.
-     "I do not understand this Plague. Civilizations change, of course. New
gods and new magics spring up. But what you tell me of this Plague smacks of
the vrykrolokas, the vampire.
The others had no breath for talking. Scipio continued to muse aloud as they
descended. When they reached the street, though, he was the only one who was
not panting;
"Zeus, Apollo, Kronos, and Neptune!" he roared, starin up at the skyscrapers.
"Surely the gods must have reare these buildings!" -
"Did gods build the Nilotic pyramids?" Li Yang asked with breathless irony.
"Men learn always, and always they build higher. But my -poor toes will, be
frozen!" He danced


about grotesquely in the slush. "You are a hardy Sace, Court, to walk about in
these skimpy togas."
Court was glancing about swiftly.   --
"Come in here," he said.
He hurried toward a nearby shop. He had seen that the window was broken, and a
burglar alarm was clanging loudly from within. That explained the medley of
noises he had heard from the hospital. Hundreds of burglar alarms, all over
New York, were screaming. The mobs must have looted during their flight. This
men's clothipg shop had certainly been looted, judging by its appearance.
Court could understand why property rights didn't mean much just now.
He guided Li Yang and Scipio to the various departments, and helped them
outfit themselves with suitable clothing.
"Breeches and boots will be best, I think," he suggested. "We may have hard
going. Pick out large-sized boots or you'll blister your feet in an hour."
It was difficult to find clothing that fitted the gigantic Carthaginian, and
even harder to equip Li Yang, but at last the task was finished. Completely
clothed, even to fleece-lined gloves, the three returned to the street. -
Now they needed food and drink. Down the avenue a little way was an Automat.
Court led them into it, pausing at the entrance to examine a motionless,
shrunken body that lay there.
It was the corpse of a man, emaciated and pallid, frozen rigid. It was oddly
shriveled, which Court recognized as the stigmata of Plague victims. Though
the man had certainly been dead since the evacuation of New York, there was no
sign of decomposition.
"Draining of vital energy means absolute sterility, no germs or
microbes-that's logical," Court muttered.
At least there would be no danger of a pestilence. He smiled crookedly.
Pestilence? - --
There was nobody to be harmed by it, anyway.
A radio in the Automat was humming noisily. Court hesitated, still inhibited
by a lifetime of conditioning. But he went to the change desk, and
appropriated a handful of nickels.
Supplying the others with trays, he carefully selected foods
that appeared still edible. The coffee spigot ran a tar-colored,
icy fluid. But it was somewhat better than the sour milk and -
stale water.      -

Court went to the radio and adjusted it. Then he joined the others at one of
the round little tables.
"News," he said, nodding at the box that was strange to them. "I'll
translate."
"Static is becoming increasingly troublesome as the Plague grows," the radio
blared. "The electrical energy emitted by the Carriers interferes with -
broadcasting. European shortwave transmission is impossible. The trans-oceanic
cables have failed. From Washington, D.C., comes the latest European news,
brought by Clipper across the Atlantic.
"The Plague seems to have concentrated its force so far in the Western
Hemisphere, though its strength is increasing gradually in Europe. Ports are
crowded as mobs try to storm their way on to ships outward bound. There is a
feeling that on the high seas is safety. This is untrue."
"The Hozima Maru, a passenger ship, was today washed upon the coast at Point
Reyes, above San Francisco. Spectators reported that the only living beings
aboard were several Carriers."
In grim undertones Court translated.
"The Eastern Seaboard is still being evacuated," the voice went on. "The
United States is under martial law. As yet the Plague remains a mystery,
though all over the world, scientists are working -night and day to check it.
A scientific congress has been called at The Hague, to convene tomorrow at
noon. . . . s
"We are still receiving reports about the mysterious golden airship which
first appeared in Central Park, New York, two weeks ago. Since then 'it has
landed eight times, always in a sparsely populated area. Unconfirmed reports
state that men and women have been forced to enter the ship. Two hours ago,
according to San Francisco's station KFRC, the ship landed on the Berkeley
hills."
Court's voice rose excitedly as he translated. Sciplo sat back with a grunt,
and the Oriental pursed his red lips.
"So Thordred's still on Earth." Li Yang rubbed his fat hands together. "Good!
Court, there are marvels of science in that golden ship, all the wonders of
Ardath's great civilization., If you can get your hands on them-"
Court frowned. "As soon as Thordred finishes recruit- -ing the people he needs
to start a new life on a different planet, he'll vanish forever. The worst of
it is, he's drained my, mind, taken all my knowledge. Everything I know, I
share with him now. But I've got to get back tomy Wisconsin lab.

I have apparatus there that will enable- me to construct a weapon or two that
might give me 'a chance against Thordred. But till I get -to the lab, I can't
even locate the golden ship."
"Then why do we wait here?" Scipio thrust back his chair and stood up,
towering incongruously in the gleaming shininess of the Automat. "Let us
hurry!"
They went out. Behind them the radio blared~
"Shall keep broadcasting as long as we are able. The city Is entirely
evacuated. We are barricaded in this station, and shall remain here until our
power fails, or until . . . This is WOR, Newark, New Jersey. All listeners are
warned to leave their homes immediately and-" -
Fifth Avenue lay silent under a white mantle. Snow had fallen within the past
twenty-four hours. The sky, however, was blue and cloudless. Singularly eerie
was the silence that lay over New York, made more horrible by the mutter of -
radios and the distant jarring of alarms. These, too, would die when the power
failed. -
There were bodies in the streets, most of them white.. mounded hummocks under
the snow. Hundreds of automobiles had been wrecked. A huge bus lay on its side
beside an overturned garbage truck. ~- -
Twice they saw Carriers-shining, paffid ovals of glowing radiance-floating
toward them. Each time Court led his companions into buildings and through a
roundabout course of passages and stairways that led them to safety.
"The subway might be safer," he mused, "but there may be Carriers down there.
And the power's still on, of course."
Court did not mention his fear of the carnage he might discover underground.
Yet curiously the Plague had left little horror in its wake. It was far too
fantastically unreaL The bombs and shrapnel of war would have left blood and
ruin. But this. - . . There was only white silence, and bodies that were less
like corpses than cold statues of marble. -
Here." Court halted by a parked automobile. "No, there's no gas." He frowned,
after -a glance at the dashboard gauge. "Come on." -
Scipio was peering into a window. Abruptly he kicked high, and the glass fell
in clattering shards. The Carthaginian reached through the gap and brought out
a cavahy saber in its scabbard.
"It's light enough," he grunted, balancing the weapon in his hand. "But it's
sharp. We may need this."


He fastened it to his belt, while Li Yang was-peering down the street.
"Court!" the Oriental called. "What is it?"
"A Carrier-"
"I see it."
Swiftly Court guided his companions around the corner.
They turned west from Fifth Avenue into Fifty-eighth
Street. Half a block down, they paused at sight of two more
Carriers coming toward them.
Court glanced around. On his right was a street blocked with a mass of
automobile wreckage. The tower of Rockefeller Plaza rose into the sky. On his
left was the entrance of an office building. But through the glass doors,
Court could see that the lobby was strewn with bodies, struck down as they had
tried to escape the onrushing Plague.
Court wondered with a strange twinge of pity, how many of them had been ready
for death. Probably none.
He caine to himself abruptly. There was no time for philosophizing. The
Carriers were closing in upon them from both sides. Scipio pointed to the side
street.
"There. We can climb over."
"Wait!" Court's sharp command halted the others on the curb. "Here's a car." -
-
A large, black sedan was parked a few feet away. Two bodies lay near it-a
man's and a woman's. The girl, scarcely more than a child, lay in a~pitiful
little huddle on the running-board, her blond hair whitened with snow. The
man, a bulky, dark young fellow, lay with his face in the gutter, a cigar
still drooping from one corner of his mouth.
But the keys were in the ignition. Hastily Court sprang into the car, turned
the key and pressed the starter. He really expected no response. To his
surprise, the battery painfully turned the cold engine over.
Court dared waste no more time. He glanced around. With a gasp of relief, he
saw that the shining bodies of the Carriers had halted. They were at least a
hundred feet away, and there might still be time.
He kept his foot down on the starter.   The motor caught and abruptly died.
Viciously he manipulated the choke.
"Get ready to run!" he warned.      -   -
But again the motor caught, and Court   gunned it with great care. The echoes
boomed out thunderously in the canyon   of the street. Li Yang and Scipio sat
tensely beside Court, more


afraid of this noisy invention than the: incomprehenrfble Carriers. -
"They are coming toward us," Scipio reported in an undertone, feeling for his
saber. "I shall get out and hold them back till-"
"No!" Court let out the clutch. "Stay where you are."
The car jerked into motion. There was a sickening moment when the motor
sputtered, coughed, and almost stopped.
Court jammed down the gas, heard the exhaust pipe crack open with a deafening
- roar. Then they were plunging forward.
But the Carriers were ominously close. Into Court's mind came a weird,
illogical thought-"Pillars of fire and smoke." Was that it? It didn't matter,
for two of them, directly ahead, were gliding toward the car.
He spun the wheel, skidded on the slushy pavement. He shot between the tvl'o
monsters, missing them by a hair's breadth. The sedan rocketed on, gathering
speed.
Court swallowed hard and wiped the perspiration from his forehead with the
back of his hand.
"Narrow squeak. . . . This is a one-way street," he added with wry humor, "and
we're going the wrong way. But I doubt if we'll get a ticket."
They crossed Sixth Avenue, then Seventh, and turned left on Broadway. Court
headed for the Holland Tunnel. Before he reached the tube, he sighted a tangle
of wreckage which told him that route was closed. Hastily he turned north
along the Hudson, hoping he could get through at the Ceorge Washington Bridge.
The ice-bordered river flowed past silently, unruffled now by any boats. In
the distance, the Jersey Palisades were traceries of frost. No smoke at all
rose on the skyline.
"Gods!" Scipio observed. "This is a world of wonders,
Court. What is that?"   '-
"Grant's Tomb," said Court. "Let's see wl~at the radio says."
He switched it on, but got only static. He turned the switch off, for he did
not know the battery's strength. He had almost a tankful of gas, he saw, and
was grateful for that. Yet it would not take him to Wisconsin.
He would take the straight western route toward Chicago, and then cut
northwest, unless he could find an airplane. But in this disorganized area,
Court doubted whether one would be available. They all must have been
commandeered.


The bridge was open. They shot across, disregarding the glaring speed-limit
signs.
Court found the highway he wanted. He sped on, seem no sign of life. He was
reminded of the last time he ha
driven across the Wisconsin hills, with Marion at his side. It almost seemed
as though nothing had happened since then, for the landscape was still
1n~ongruously peacefuL Only one thing betrayed the existence of the Plague-the
occasional wrecks seen beside the highway, and the absence of traffic. An
airplane startlingly roared overhead against the blue.
But Marion was not here. Court realized that he missed her. She was the
perfect complement for his mind, the ideal assistant. There was something
else, too, but Court subconsciously steered away from the thought, refusing to
let himself realize why he missed Marion so profoundly. He could see ,her
clearly, a slim brown-eyed girL
Rot! Such thoughts wasted time, and there was no time to waste. Sitting beside
Court now, crowded uncomfortably in the front seat, Scipio and the huge Li
Yang writhed uneasily. They typified the whole new set of factors which Court
must integrate into the problem facing him. His mind began to work at
lightning speed. Analyzing, probing, discarding- swiftly he went over the
problem as he drove the car instinctively through New Jersey.
Scipio crawled over into the back seat and went to sleep. Li Yang stretched
luxuriously, holding out his plump fingers to the car heater.
"Great magic," he said with satisfaction. "Not that I believe in magic, but
the word'is a handy one." -
The sedan thundered westward.



CHAPTER XVI

Thordred Strikes

During the two weeks 0f Court's unconsciousness, a great deal had happened.
Many large cities, like Manhattan, had been evacuated. If -many Carriers had
appeared at once, chaos migl~t have been ,~he result. But the Plague came with
cornpara~ive slowness at first. Martial law, of course, had been declared,
resWt~irIg in less indirect mortality than might have been expected.


The refugees faced neither starvation nOr epidemic. With well oiled speed, the
Federal Government had swung into action. Au over the country, the evacuated
populations of such cities as New York, Chicago, San Francisco, and New
Orleans were billeted in hospitable homes.
But the danger remained. More and more of the Carriers appeared. Shining,
nebulous clouds of glowing fog, they slew by touch alone. There was no
possible protection, for even lead armor was not always certain. Moreover,
nobody knew the nature of these dread beings.
Court racked his brain as he furiously drove on. Parts of the pattern were
falling into place. Entropy, he thought, was the clue. The most puzzling
problem was the apparent existence of an utterly alien element-the mysterious
X.
In a sane universe, this could not exist. It could not be alien. For a time he
pondered the Heisenberg uncertainty factor, but discarded it as a new idea
came to him.
The catalyst angle was perhaps the most logical one. Absently he reached into
the dashboard compartment, expecting to find cigarettes. There was a pack in
it, nearly full. Court pressed in the dashboard cigarette lighter. Li Yang
watched with interest.
Court took the glowing lighter and held it to his cigarette. Abruptly he
paused, staring at the lighter. He whistled startledly under his breath. The
Oriental blinked in astonishment.
"VVhat-"
"An idea. Just an idea. A parallel, like conduction. Listen, Li Yang. If you
take a red-hot chunk of steel and put it next to a cold piece, what'll
happen?"
"The cold piece wifi be warmed."
"Yes. The heat will be transmitted. Only, it isn't heat in this case. It's Xl
X is being transmitted to living beings. . . ." Court rubbed his forehead.
"What Is X? Energy? Sure, but- I've got it!" He almost lost his grip on the
wheel In his excitement. "I've got it, Li Yang! Entropy, life, energy-.cosmic
evolution!"
"Words," said the Oriental, shrugging indifferently. "What do they mean?"
Court began to talk slowly, carefully, picking his way along the new theory. -
"Evolution goes on constantly, you know. From the day the first amoeba was
born, evolution kept on steadily. It'll always do that, all over this
Universe, and in other ones, too. Well, what's the ultimate evolution of
life?"

"To what man is it given to know that?" Li Yang replied fatalistically.
"There have been lots of theories. Plenty of science-fiction writers have
speculated about it-people like Verne and Wells. Some of them say we'll evolve
into bodiless brains. Well, that isn't quite logicaL Rather, it doesn't go far
enough. Brains are made of cellular.~jssue, and therefore can die. But
thought-life energy-is the ultimate form. The final evo~. lution is toward
bodiless energy, life without form or shape. A gas, perhaps."
The Oriental nodded. 'I think I see. Well?"
Court swung the sedan around a curve, taking it wide to avoid an overturned
roadster.
"Entropy goes on, regardless. Eventually a universe is destroyed. Matter
itself breaks up. But this life energy isn't matter. It's left unchanged. It
floats on through the void, like a dark nebula."
His eyes widened.
"Perhaps that's the explanation for dark nebulae, like the Coal Sack, for
example. Well, that doesn't matter. This cosmic cloud of life energy drifts
through space. If it happens to reach a newly formed planet like Earth
billions of years ago, life is generated in the seas, and the cycle starts
again. But if life already exists-" -
"As on Earth now?"
"Yes. The chunk of -hot steel warms the cold one. Only, it isn't heat that's
transmitted. It's pure life energy, the super-life to which we'll evolve at
the end of our Universe. We're not ready fo~ that yet, but-it's come of its
own accord."
"I am not sure I understand," Li Yang said thoughtfully.
"Take a familiar parallel. We know today that there's a hormone which causes
growth. A hormone is a glandular extract. If we inject an overdose of that
into an infant, he'll grow enormously. But he'll probably be an idiot, with
little control over his huge body. He should have been left to grow naturally,
for he wasn't ready for the hormone in such a large dose.

iNeither is the Earth ready for so large a step forward in ev~lution. But
we've got an overdose of pure life energy, ar~d it's transforming human beings
into another form of life."
"Demons," Li Yang said quietly.
Court smiled uncomfortably.
"Perhaps. At least into poor devils. Well, that's the answer, but it still
does not help matters. Here's a town, and I think it has an airport."

The field was a flurry of brightly lit activity. No Carriers had yet appeared
in this New Jersey city, but the air of tension was inevitable. By dint of
argument, threats, pleas, and coercion, Court managed -to charter a plane,
though he would have no success in getting a pilot. Their services were
difficult to obtain, because of the national emergency. It was lucky that
Court knew how to fly.
He took time to drink black, scalding coffee at the airport restaurant, where
curious glances were cast at his strange companions.
There was little information he could gain from the scattered scraps of
conversation. No one could guess where the Plague might strike next. At the
first sign of it, evacuation must take place, with the aid of every
automobile, railroad, and plane that could be pressed into service.
A few local residents wandered in to stare curiously at the unusual activity.
Their lives would continue in normal routine until the Plague actually arrived
on their doorsteps.
Refreshed, Court took his companions into the - plane, a speedy gyrocraft
cabin ship. He felt grateful that he would not have to drive by car to
Wisconsin. The trip would have necessitated a stop for sleeping. But in the
plane, he could reach his destination in six hours or so.
Li Yang and Scipio were not startled by the air journey, for the golden space
ship had accustomed them to aerial travel. They watched with interest the
countryside below. There was little chance to talk.
The plane swept over Chicago, a desolate, evacuated metropolis. Chicagoans,
Court had Jearned, were quartered all over Illinois, Michigan, Wisconsin, and
even Ontario. Canada, of course, had thrown open its Border. For days, crowded
boats had been plying between Chicago and Benton Harbor in Michigan.
The Plague had not struck Milwaukee, however, though transportation facilities
were held in readiness there. Actually only a few cities had been disrupted,
and Plague deaths had been surprisingly few. The real peril, which not many
knew, lay in the future, if the Plague spread and remained Incurable.
At Madison, Court landed and rented a car.
The headlights were pale spears stabbing through the gloom as the highway
unrolled monotonously. Court was beginning to feel sleepy, but he had
purchased some benzedrine

sulphate In Madison. He gulped some of the stimulant, which refreshed him.
In the back seat, Scipio polished his saber with an oiled rag he had found. Li
Yang slept, choking and snoring, his head rolling ponderously in collars of
fat. -
Now and again, Court caught sight of Carriers-shining blobs of radiance that
flashed toward them and were gone. What would happen if the car struck one?
Would it rush through an impalpable glow, or would there be a catastrophic
explosion of liberated energy? Court's mind felt so blurred that he could not
think clearly.- His hands ached and trembled on the wheeL His elbow joints
were throbbing. The soles of his feet seemed to be on fire.
But he could not stop and rest. Home was not far now, and even then there
would be no peace.
The road was familiar to him. Wisconsin lay under yellow moonlight, and beside
the road, the river flowed along silently.
They topped a rise and came in sight of the village. It seemed unchanged. But
as they swept toward it, Court noticed the absence of lights and movements.
The street was completely deserted. From the general store, a radio crackled
inaudibly. On the store's porch was the body of a man in overalls, grotesquely
sprawled. A dog slunk into view, stood frozen for a second, and then fled.
Court thought with al~rin of Marion Barton. Had she returned to the
laboratory? Probably. But had she fled with the general exodus?
Court's heart jumped - as he saw a shining, shapeless glow drift into view
from around a corner. A Carrier! Another of the horrors was joining the first.
But they made no effort to molest the speeding automobile.
Court sucked in his breath. Once he reached the laboratory, all the weapons of
his scientific career lay ready to his fingers. Then, knowing as he did the
secret of the Plague, he could fight, perhaps destroy the Plague-and finally
Thordred. Marion could help. Her aid would be invaluable, if-
- "How much farther?" Scipio grunted from the back seat.
Li Yang woke up and sleepily rubbed his eyes, yawning.
"Almost there," Court said, a queer breathlessness in his voice. "Just over
this rise. Hold on!" -
A glowing shadow had loomed up sinisterly before the car, blocking the road.
It was a Carrier, silent, motionless, menacing.

Court made a - swift ~lecision. He could drive straight at the thing. But that
was too long a chance. Going so fast,
- though, he bad little choice.-    --
He jammed on the brake, at the same time twisting the wheel. The car's tires
rasped and screamed as the vehicle slid sideward. It rolled ominously on two
wheels, righted itself, and plunged off the road.
The occupants were jolted and flung about as the sedan lurched across a plowed
field. A tire blew out with a deafening report. Desperately Court fought the
wheeL
Bang!-Another tire bad gone, but Court jammed his foot on the accelerator. In
the rear mirror, be could see that the Carrier was still standing in the same
place. It was not pursuing them. -
He got the car back on the road, picked up speed. As it limped on, the Carrier
was left behind. Court drew a deep breath.
"Gods!" Scipio bellowed. "I almost stabbed myself with this blade!" - -
Li Yang gurgled with amusement. "You are not as well padded as I. But I am
glad our journey is almost over. It is,-is it not, Court?"
"Yes. This is home-"    --
Court's voice died away as he jerked the car to a halt. They were at the huge,
rambling structure that had housed the laboratory. The building was gone. It
had been razed to the ground in an irregular splotch of blackly charred ruin.
A crater yawned among the debris.
The laboratory was destroyed, and with it, the chance to save the Earth!
Sick hopelessness was so strong in Court that for a long, dreadful moment his
heart was numb. He seemed to be disassociated from his body. As if he were a
distant onlooker, be stared at the sharp clarity of the ruins under the Moon.
His shadow stretched out before him on the ochre pathway. On one side was the
taller shadow of Scipio. On the other was the obese dark blotch thrown by Li
Yang~s form. The grasses rus- -tIed dryly in the cool night wind.
The embers were still warm, for smoke coiled up lazily from the dying coals.
Apparently the work of destruction had occurred lately. Was it an accident?
No, Thordred must l?e responsible! Court might have expected this. When
Thordred acquired his memory pattern, he had also become familiar with the
laboratory and all its

potentialities. Naturally he would wish to destroy it, lest use of its powers
be used against him.
But why had he waited two whole weeks? Perhaps becauTe he had not been able to
locate the laboratory till now. Despite having acquired Court's memories,
Thordred was a stranger in this new, complicated civilization.
"Steve!"
The scream cut through the air bringing Court around sharply. It was Marion's
voice!




CHAPTER XVII

Marion

The cry had come from the hillside beyond the house. For a second, Stephen
caught the glimpse of a white figure running toward him in the bright
moonlight.
He raced to meet the girL She collapsed in his arms, panting and disheveled.
Her hair was a tumbled brown mass of ringlets. For several minutes she could
only gasp inarticulately.
"Steve, thank God you're safe-I saw the headlights of a car-but I didn't know
it?was you-but I thought if you were alive-you'd come back to the lab-" -
Looking down into her eyes, Court felt a queer tightness in his throat. He
interrupted in a voice that was scarcely audible.
"Marion, I-I love you."
The girl caught her breath as she stared. Then suddenly she smiled with
dazzling brilliance.
"I'm glad," she whispered, and pressed her head against Court's chest. "I'm
glad you're human, after all."
Yes, Court thought to himself, he was human. For years he had refused to admit
it, -
But now-a chuckle started behind his lips-he gloried in~ it! -
The others came running up, staring at Marion. She drew away from Court. -
"Thordred wrecked the lab," she explained. "Who are these men?" -
She eyed them inquisitively. -      -

"No time for introductions now," Court snapped. "Tell me what's happened.
You've seen Thordred, or you wouldn't know his name." - -
She nodded. "He came here two hours ago and -destroyed the house. I was the
only one who got out alive. I saw the ship not far away. When I started to
run, a beam of light flashed out and I was paralyzed! A huge bearded man came
running and carried me into the ship. He seemed to know who I was."
"Of course," Court agreed. "He acquired all my memories with his damned
machine."
"There was a girl called Jansaiya. She didn't say anything. She just watched.
Thordred showed me dozens of men and women in the ship, asleep, cataleptic. He
said he had captured them to start a new civilization. He was going to another
planet-and he'd decided to take me, too. Since I'd been your assistant, Steve,
he figured I'd be a good assistant for him. My scientific training would be
invaluable to him. He told me you were dead, that he'd killed you with a ray
in New York."
"So he thinks I'm dead," Court observed. "That means he didn't know the ray
only paralyzed me."
Marion didn't look at him as she continued.
"I pretended to fall in with Thordred's wishes, said - I'd go with him. So he
didn't bother to put me into catalepsy. He started the motors and the ship
began to rise. Then I-I-"
"Go on," Court said gently.   -
"He wasn't watching me. I saw what he was doing at the instrument panel, and I
jumped at it. Somehow I pushed all -the levers and buttons before he grabbed
me. The ship crashed. I wanted to kill Thordred, Steve, because I thought he'd
killed you. If you were dead, I didn't want to keep on living."
For answer, Court drew the girl closer. She went on talking hurriedly.
"The ship was wrecked completely. It's right over the ridge. All the prisoners
were killed, and Jansaiya was hurt. - I tried -to help her, but Thordred
dragged me away. I don't know how he got me out alive. He was like a madman.
He salvaged some weapons from the wreck, and made me gO with him- I don't know
why, or what he intended. I think he wanted to kill me later, Steve. Slowly!"
-
Court's face was chalk-white. Clipping his words, he gave his orders. -
"Let's find the ship. We may be able to salvage something,

too. Li Yang, Scipio, watch out for Thordred, though I don't think he'll
bother us now."
The four mounted the slope. At the top of the ridge they halted. In the valley
before them lay the vast golden bulk of the space ship, near a streamlet that
made a winding ribbon of quick-silver between its banks. There was no sign of
life near the vesseL -
They descended the slope. Suddenly Marion cried out softly and gripped Court's
arm. The four halted abruptly.
A shining oval drifted into view from behind a bush. It was a Carrier, a
glowing fog, fading toward its, edges into invisibility. With more than human
speed, it moved toward the group.
Court instinctively thrust the girl behind him. Scipio lifted his hard fist in
futile defiance. Then he remembered the saber and drew it.
But there was no defense against a Carrier, Court knew. He opened his mouth to
shout a command to flee. But for some reason that he could not define, he
waited.
The shining thing had halted. It was motionless, and Court was conscious of an
intent regard. The creature was watching him. Why? Such a thing had never
happened before. Always the Carrier had leaped eagerly, avidly, upon their
prey. Why did this horror wait?
Court inexplicably felt something stir and move in his brain. Briefly the
image~of old Sammy, with his brown, wrinkled face and his mop of white hair,
rose- up vividly in his mind. Behind him, Marion's voice whispered like a
prayer.
"Sammy!"
The shining thing seemed to hear. It hesitated and drew back. Suddenly it
turned, speeding up the slope, and vanished over the ridge.
"Good God!" Court whispered through dry lips. "Marion, do you think that
was-Sammy?"
White-faced, the girl nodded.
"Yes, Steve. And I think he knew us, remembered us. That's why-" She could not
go on. -
"Well," Scipio broke in roughly, "why do we wait? Let's go on."
In silence, Court led the way down the slope. Presently he shivered a little,
and Marion glanced sharply at him.
"Do you feel that, too?"
"What? Wait a minute, yes. Some radiation-"

"There!" Li Yang sai-d, pointing. -
Court followed the gesture, saw the spot of light.
Blazing like the heart of a blue sun, flaming with a fierce and terrible
radiance, the light-speck glowed upon the hull of the ship. Instantly Court
guessed what it was. The atomic energy that powered the huge motors had broken
free. No longer prisoned by its guarding, resistant sheath, it was sending its
powerful vibrations out like ripples widening on a pool.
"Don't go any closer!" Court clutched Scipio's arm, halting him. "That's
dangerous. It can fry us to a crisp."
"Gods!" The Carthaginian stared. "Is that true? A mere glow of light?"
In theory Court knew something of atomic energy, though -it had never been
achieved practically on earth. In the old days, men had feared that unleashed
atomic energy would destroy the whole planet, its fiery breath spreading
swiftly like a poisonous infection. But Court knew there was no danger of
that. The rate of matter-consumption was far too slow. In a thousand years,
the valley might be eaten away, but not in five years or five minutes. -
"Scipio!"
The faint cry came from nearby, startling them. The Carthaginian's hand flew
to his sword as he whispered.
"Jansaiya!" -And again came the cry, plaintive, gull-sweet, Infinitely sad.
"Help me!"
With a muttered oath, Scipio whirled and ran. Court followed at his heels. A
mound of bushes clustered a hundred feet away, and in its shelter lay
Jansaiya. The fading moonlight washed her hair with gold.
She lay broken, dying. .
      "Jansaiya," Scipio said tonelessly.       --
He dropped to his knees beside the girl and lifted her in his mighty arms.
With a tired sigh, she let her head fall on
his bronzed shoulder.         --
"My-my back-"     --
After Court completed a hasty examination, his eyes met Scipio's. He did not
need to speak, for the Carthaginian nodded slowly. Jansaiya's torn gown and
bruised limbs told how she had dragged herself toward safety. -
"Thordred left you?" Scipio asked in a queer, hoarse voice.
The strangely beautiful green eyes misted with pain as


she held herself close to Scipio's barrel chest. The Carthaginian's gargoyle
face was the color and hardness of granite in the moonlight.
"I-I think-I might have loved you-warrior," Jansaiya murmured.
Then she sobbed restrainedly with unbearable agony. The golden lashes drooped
to shield.the sea-green eyes. The tender lips scarcely moved as the girl
whispered.
"There was not ever-any pain-in old Atlantis-" Her head drooped on his arm and
was motionless. Cently Scipio laid her in the shelter of the bushes. He
touched her hair, her eyes, then tenderly he touched his lips to those red,
silent ones, from which even the faint hint of cruelty had gone.
As he drew back, the last glow of the sinking Moon failed. The eternal dark
accepted Jansaiya and shrouded her.
The starlight was cold as glittering ice on Scipio's savage eyes as he rose.
He stood towering there, motionless, staring at nothingness. Slowly he turned
to face the west.
"Court," he rumbled distantly, "you heard her?"
"Yes," Court said in a low, tense voice.
"He left her to die. . .
Abruptly the Carthaginian's face was that of a biqod-ravening demon. The
mighty hands flexed into talons.
"He is mine to slay!" Scipio breathed through flaring nostrils. "Remember
that- He'is mine to slay!"
But Jansaiya could no longer hear. She lay limp, slim and lovely and forever
untouchable now, shielded from all hurt, She slept as a child might~ sleep.
"You wish to kill me?" a harsh voice asked mockingly. "Well, I am waiting,
Scipio."
From the shadows of the bushes, Thordred's giant form rose into view.
Startled bewilderment momentarily paralyzed Court. He cursed himself for .a
fool. He might have expected this, but finding Jansaiya had made him relax his
vigilance. Glaring at Thordred, he stepped aside to stand in front of Marion.
-
Li Yang's fat yellow face was expressionless.
Scipio, after one hoarse oath, had drawn his saber. He was walking forward,
his eyes burning with blood-hunger.
Thordred's hand dipped into his garments, came up holding a lens-shaped
crystal that shot forth a spear of green light.
It touched Scipio. The Carthaginian halted in mid-stride


with the saber lifted, a grin of fury frozen on the gargoyle face.
Court leaped for Thordred, but the green ray caught him, -too. The life was
drained from him in a shock of icy cold. He stood motionless, paralyzed as the
ray darted aside.
From the corner of his eye, Court saw Marion and Li Yang stiffen into
immobility. The four stood helpless, while Thordred tossed his crystal from
hand to hand and grinned.
"You fools!" his harsh voice grated. "So I did not kill you that other time,
did I, Court? Well, I shall rectify that omission now. If not for the
interference of all of you, I should never have lost the ship. Yet I can still
have my vengeance."
He glanced down significantly at the lens he held.
"You shall die slowly, in the utmost agony. You shall burn gradually as I
increase the strength of the ray. After that, I do not know what I shall do.
Perhaps I can build another space ship. The knowledge I have stolen should
enable me to do that. But that comes after my revenge."
The bearded face was murderous in the moonlight. The crystal Hashed a ray that
struck Court on the chest. The green light turned yellow. Simultaneously
blinding pain racked the man. He smelled the odor of his own burning flesh.
"You shall die," Thordred gritted. "All of you. This is my vengeance." -




CHAPTER XVIII -
The Man Who Lived Again

When Thordred placed Ardath's body in the small space ship and sent it
hurtling toward the Sun, he had thought the Kyrian dead. His fear of Ardath's
giant intellect had been-so great that he would feel safe only when the solar
inferno had utterly consumed it. Yet by making doubly sure that his former
master would meet death, Thordred had committed -a serious error.
For Ardath was not dead. He awoke slowly, painfully, only vaguely conscious of
his surroundings. For a time he lay quietly, blinking and striving to
understand. He kept his eyes closed after a single glance at a dazzling glare.
He turned his head away from the bright light and reopened


h1~ eyes. His gaze took in his surroundings. He was in a -space ship, a small
one that was unfamiliar to him. Through the ports in the walls showed the
starlit blackness of inter- -planetary space.
He was incredibly weak. lie sat up, massaging his limbs until his numbed
circulation was restored to normal. Then he rose with a great effort and
looked around.
Sunlight flamed through a row of ports. Ardath instantly realized that he was
falling directly into the rapidly enlarging Sun. He saw the controls, sprang
toward them, almost collapsing in his weakness.
He examined the unfamiliar apparatus, tentatively fingering the panel.
Presently the puzzle of strangeness was solved in his amazingly swift mind. He
tried a lever, then another, and knew that he was master of the unknown ship.
The vital problem just now was to escape from the Sun's attraction.
Luckily he was not yet even close to the chrornosphere. He turned the vessel
in a wide arc. After staring through the ports, he aimed its nose at the
Earth. Then he locked the controls and searched for food.
Foreseeing emergencies, Court had stocked the little ship well. Much of the
food was unfamiliar to Ardath, but he sampled it intelligently. Brandy
stimulated him and gave him strength. As he ate, he pondered the situation.
How had he got here? What had awakened him from his cataleptic sleep? The last
tl~ing he remembered was emerging from the laboratory in his own ship, to
encounter Thor. dred's ruthless blow. The bearded giant had betrayed him, but
how long ago had that been? How long had Ardath slept?
During his last period of awakening, he had arranged an automatic alarm which
would react to the presence of any unusual mentality existing on Earth. Ardath
wished to take no chances of sleeping past the lifetimes of geniuses. But be
had not had time to set that alarm before Thordred stunned him. Everyone in
the golden ship should have slept on until infinity, unless awakened by some
outside force. What had that been?
Again Ardath went to a port and studied the constellations, noting the changes
that time had made. He computed roughly that at least twenty centuries had
elapsed since his last awakening. Perhaps, through his failure to set the
automatic alann, he had already slept through the lifetimes of innumerable
super-mentalities.
Though Ardath did not know it, of course, he had not


awakened to find Moses, Confucius, Socrates, Galileo, Newton, and a dozen
others. The alarm, had it been set, would have aroused him when those men
appeared on Earth.
Ardath glanced thoughtfully toward the Sun. Its powerful rays, unshielded by
any atmosphere, had awakened him. He felt gratitude to the unknown builder of
this ship, who had installed transparent ports, through which the vital
radiations had poured. If the vessel had been on any other course, Ardath
might have slept on to the end of time. But the Sun's rays had destroyed the
artificial eataleps~z.
Ardath rose and began to search the little ship. Its architecture was
obviously Terrestrial, the natural development of art-forms he had seen in
ancient days on Earth. Moreover, the use of Earth metals in the construction,
and the absence of any unusual ones, confirmed this theory.
Certain equipment that Ardath found interested him. The mystery of a blowtorch
he solved without difficulty. An eleetro-magnet and vials of acids made him
nod thoughtfully. When he measured one of the ports carefully, he realized
that it coincided exactly with the size and shape of the entry- -ports on his
own ship.
The equipment indicated that the unknown owner of this little vessel had
expected to find a barrier difficult to pass. The curious similarity of the
ports on both ships added up to an unescapable conclusion. Someone on Earth
had built this ship in order to reach and enter Ardath's craft. Obviously he
had succeeded, but without the use of atomic energy.
He had duplicated the alloy that coated the hull of the Kynan vessel, yet the
energy was electrical in nature. Ardath's race had used electricity once, so
many eons ago that it was mere legend when he had been born. Atomic energy had
-supplanted it. Yet Ardath must work with the tools at hand.
He found himself experiencing difficulty in breathing. The air supply, of
course, had not bothered him during his cataleptic state, but now it was
becoming a problem. He examined the air-renewers and purifiers, found them
simple but effective.
Luckily there were the necessary chemicals aboard the ship to renew the
exhausted apparatus. The names on the containers meant nothing to Ardath, but
the chemicals were easily recog~dzable. In only one case did he find a test
necessary.
It would be a long journey back to Earth. Meanwhile, Ardath examined some maps
and charts that had been


in a -cupboard, as well as a popular novel which one of the workmen who built
the ship had left in a corner and forgotten. These would be invaluable for
learning the language. Since Ardath already knew Latin from his last period of
awakening, he could learn English without too much difficulty. He could even
approximate the present pronunciation, once he understood the letters-like
w-which Romans did not have. The luckiest find of all, after that, was a
newspaper.
Two problems faced Ardath.-. He must find his own ship, and he needed a
weapon. Painstakingly he analyzed the situ-
- ation.
Day after day dragged on while the space ship fled toward Earth. The Kynian
studied the charts, the book, and the newspaper, striving to understand. From
a rubber stamp on the maps, he learned that the owner of the vessel was named
Stephen Court, and that he lived in Wisconsin, near a town which Ardath
finally located on one of the charts.
That became his destination. The Kyriari's keen understanding of psychology
aided him in understanding what had happened during his unconsciousness.
Placing himself in the respective positions of Thordred and Stephen Court, he
applied rules of logic.
When Court had entered the golden space ship and found the cataleptic bodies,
he would naturally have tried to awaken them. When he awoke Thordred, what had
happened?
There were two possibili~ies. Thordred, Ardath realized now, wanted power
above all else. He - had resented the Kyrian's domination. After apparently
succeeding in killing his former master, he woqld not have been willing to
obey Court. Rather,- his lust for power would have been given fresh fuel. - -
He and Court would have become either enemies or friends. In the latter case,
Ardath now faced two opponents. But why should Court, having built this
ingenious and expensive space ship, have been willing to destroy it by aiming
it at the Sun? He would naturally have wished to retain it for later use. A
logical man does not destroy valuable equipment, and only a logical   and
intelligent person could have built this vessel. -
But Thondred, on the other hand, would have wished the smaller ship   destroyed,
so that he would possess the only space ship on Earth. Such tactics   would
strengthen his power. Unless there were already other spacecraft in   existence.
..
That was impossible. This one was obviously patterned on


Ardath's own vessel. A man with sufficient knowledge to create it would have
used it, first of all, to visit the original ship. That sounded logical,
though not entirely certain.
Court would probably have resented the destruction of his property. That
indicated that he and Thordred were enemies. But from that conclusion, Ardath
could go no further. He could only wait until he had reached the Earth and
visited the home of Stephen Court in Wisconsin. If Court lived, he would
certainly be an ally.
And now Ardath concentrated on creating a weapon. Equipment was at hand, and
electricity. Atomic energy Ardath could not manufacture at present, but he
thought it would not be necessary. Already he had a plan for a weapon in mind.
It must be able to convey a strong shock, or even a fatal one, over quite a
distance. That necessitated some conductor of the current. A jet of water-a
thin spray, perhaps-might do the trick. But the use of ordinary water was not
quite satisfactory.
Ardath began to experiment with the limited laboratory he had at his command.
He worked arduously, sleeping and eating only when he found time, while the
ship sped toward its destination.
Earth grew from a star to a spinning globe, cloud-sheathed, and then into a
vast concave disk that blotted out the starry void. Ardath found the outline
of North America, checked it with his maps. Then he sent the vessel arrowing
toward Lake Michigan, which was visible even from beyond the atmosphere.
It was night before he landed outside the village near Court's home. He
lowered the ship silently among concealing trees and slipped toward the lights
of the settlement.
His clothing would arouse curiosity, he realized, but that could not be
helped. Taking his new weapon, which was awkwardly bulky, he moved forward. -
Luck was with him. A youth, idling along the highway in a dim stretch, paused
to stare at Ardath. The Kyrian took advantage of the opportunity. Mouthing the
unfamiliar words carefully, he asked:
"Can you say where Stephen Court lives?" It sounded like:
"Cah yoh-uh say vhere Stephen Coo-urt llv-es?"
The boy blinked. "Sure. You're a foreigner, ain't you?"
When no answer came, he went on, pointing.
"Right up the road here." He gave explicit directions. "But I wouldn t go up
there if I was you. There was a fire up there


just a little while ago, and folks saw some funny kind of airship hanging
around. They think it crashed in the valley behind the house, but nobody's
gone to look. We stay away from Court's place since he had a case of the
Plague there."
Without a word, Ardath left the lad and hurried on. He had understood most of
what had been said. "A funny kind of airship?" Could that be the golden space
vessel? By the gods, if it had crashed- -
The ruina of the house told their own story. Ardath hesitated, then skirted it
to climb up the slope beyond the charred foundation-s. -
"The valley behind the house," the boy had said. Ardath topped the ridge. His
thin, patrician face went cold as marble at the sight before him. The ship was
wrecked, he saw at a glance. And he saw, too, the moonlit figures of huge
Thordied and his paralyzed prisoners.
As the ray flashed out from the' lens in Thordred's hand, Ardath ran swiftly
down the slope, concealing himself amid the bushes. As an odor of charred
flesh came to his nostrils, his eyes were suddenly remorseless as death.
At last he was close enough. He rose from the shadows and called softly:
"Thordredl"
The bearded giant whirled, shocked amazement in the amber eyes. The yellow ray
swung wide, out of his control. Simultaneously Ardath liftecj the weapon he
held, and a -thin jet of fluid shot from its muzzle, splashing on Thordred's
arm. The giant yelled in agony, and his lens fell to the ground.
"You betrayed me, Thordred," Ardath said motionlessly. "It is just thatyou
die."
He stepped forward. The huge, bearded figure swayed and writhed in agony,
striving to break free from the invisible grip that held it. Ardath's foot
slipped on a rounded stone. For a second, the liquid jet wavered from its
mark. But swept back swiftly- Thordred was gone! He flung himself back into
the shelter
of    the bushes. The crashing of underbrush told of his flight. Ardath
shrugged and lowered his weapon.
"He is harmless now," he said, and bent to pick up the lens. Briefly he eyed
the - three men and the girl, still paralyzed. "Scipio, Li Yang, and two
strangers."
He made a hasty adjustment on the crystal, sent a blue glow sweeping out to
bathe the four. The paralysis fled.
"Ardath!" Li Yang said. "You came in good time."


"By the gods, yes!" Scipio roared. His voice went soft with regret. "Though
not in time to save Jansaiya." His eyes clouded. Lifting his saber, he plunged
forward."I'll be back with Thordred's head," he promised over his shoulder,
and vanished into the woods.
"You-you're Ardath?" Court asked. -
The burn on his chest -was aching painfully, but it was not deep, and it had
been automatically cauterized. He stared at the rescuer. The Kyrian nodded.
"I am- Ardath. You seem to know of me. Are you Stephen Court?"
"Yes. But how did you learn English? How did you escape from the Sun trap?
What-"
"Wait." Ardath was staring down at the wrecked ship. "Before all else, the
atomic energy must be prisoned again. It is"
-he fumbled for the right word-"dangerous. To approach it closely means
de-ath."
"Lead?" Court suggested.      -When Ardath looked puzzled, he gave the atomic
number. "Only a special alloy will insulate the rays of atomic energy.
Do you see that container? It looks like a speck from here, beside the spot of
light. Only that can hold the power." He frowned. "The power must be placed in
its sheath again. But-" -
"It means death," Li Yang broke in. "Very welL I shall do it."
Court clutched the fat arm.
"You need not sncriflce yourself."
Ardath's face was expressionless as he went on in his painful, stilted
Englishi
"Whoever goes must be quick. The rays kill swiftly. Hurry to the ship, slide
the container over the little globe of atomic energy, and put the cover in
place. That is alL After that, it will be safe to approach."
"Steve," Marion said unsteadily, "let me go."
"No!" Court's arm went around the girl, drawing her close. "Not you. Do we
need to make this sacrifice, Ardath?"
The Kyrian nodded, sorrowfully.
"The energy will spread out till it touches ores. Then it will expand faster,
until the Earth itself will be destroyed."There was a sudden interruption.
From the bushes behind the group, a glowing nimbus of light drifted. It was a
Carrier, but it did not approach the three. Instead, it sped down the slope,
toward the ship. Ardath stared. -


"Marion, do you suppose-" Court said hoarsely.
"Maybe, Steve. If that was Sammy, he may have heard us." They watched as the
weird Carrier fled toward the ship.
It reached the hull, bent over and picked up a small object from the ground.
It made a swift motion-and the glare of atomic energy vanished!
-- "He did hear us," Court exulted. "Good old Sammy!"
The light nimbus was drifting away toward the other side of -the valley.
Presently it was hidden from sight, but before that Ardath was striding down
to the ship.
He returned, holding in his hands an oval container of dark, lustrous metal.
It was the sheath for the atomic energy. -
• "We have much to talk about," he said to Court. "Your language-I must master
it better." -'
Scipio came back, cursing and swinging his saber. His deep chest rose and fell
as he panted.
"Thordred got away. I could not catch him."
Court took immediate command.
"Back to the road. There's plenty of room in the car. We'll head directly for
Washington and make plans. I think you can help us against the Plague, Ardath.
Your atomic energy has already given me an idea."
"The Plaguer Ardath asked. "I'll help, if I can. But I am sorry you did not
destroy Thordred, Scipio. I fear he will trouble us again." -
The Carthaginian did no~ answer. He grinned unpleasantly, fingering the
saber-blade, as he followed the others back toward the ridge.




CHAPTER XIX

The Earth Shield

Two weeks later faund Court haggard and red-eyed with exhaustion. He and
Ardath, aided by Li Yang, Scipio and Marion, had been working day and night,
experimenting, testing, discarding. Court's task had been complicated by the
dUflculty of securing the Government's backing. The President, though in favor
of Court's proposal, would not give his consent until the country's foremost
scientists had approved.
They still don't realize what we're up against,' Court told Mar~n.


The two were 'walking toward a huge white auditorium on Pennsylvania Avenue.
The dome of the Capitol loomed against the blue sky. A number of cars were
drawn up before the marble building.
"But they know what the Plague's doing," Marion said worriedly. "New cases
every day!"
"I know. Perhaps I shouldn't have asked for as much money as I did, yet we'll
need it all. Small weapons aren't enough. We've got to build the Shield to
save Earth."
"Well, today's the day," she mused. "All the scientists will be there, with
lots of Army officials and Washington bigwigs."
Court smiled. "Yes. I hope-"
He turned into an alcove and picked up a phone. Presently he asked:
"Scipio? All set? Good. Be careful, now." He turned back to Marion. "This may
be d~ngerous, but I think it'll do the trick."
Before long, he was on the stage of the auditorium, a lithe, well built figure
against a background of sable curtains. The room was nearly filled with a
crowd of men-scientists, uniformed Army men, politicians. A rustle of
expectancy went through them as Court appeared. Without preamble he began:
"I am going to ask you to witness-" He paused as reporters' flashlight bulbs
popped and glared. "All right, boys. Save some of your plates till later. You
will need them. To resume, I am going to perform an experiment for you today.
Most of you are already familiar with my proposal. I have found a cure for the
Plague, but it is an expensive one. On the other hand, it is the only possible
way to save the human race from extinction."
"Bunk!" a voice yelled. "Prove it!"
Court lifted his hand.
"One moment. You have all read about Ardath. Some.. of you, I think, have seen
my colleague. His strange history has become familiar to you. Let me introduce
him now."
Ardath walked out on the platform. His antique clothing had been replaced by a
well fitting suit of light flannels, and his slim figure went over to stand
beside Court. The lean, patrician face looked out over the audience without
expression.
"Fake!" a cry arose. It was echoed by others. A gray-haired man stood up.
"If you've found a cure for the Plague, prove it. This Ar-


dath may -be an impostor. He probably is. -He has nothing to do with-"
Ardath did not say a word, but he-stepped forward a pace. Something in the
look of the strange, alien eyes brought silence to the auditorium. In the
stillness, Court spoke again.
"You know that the Plague is fatal. To touch a Carrier is instant death. That
there is ~no possible insulation. I have already given my theories about the
origin of the Plague. It is sheer life energy-the ultimate evolution of all
life, the residuum of some immeasurably ancient universe that evolved into
pure energy perhaps eons ago. This cosmic cloud of energy has drifted through
the interstellar void until its edges
-infringe upon the Earth.
"Some catalyst in our atmosphere made it potent, infected our life forms with
this strange virus. What the Plague does
- is simply this-it speeds up entropy. And the evolution that takes place is
abnormal, against nature."
Court paused, drew a deep breath, and resumed.
"Normal evolution is slow. Mankind automatically adjusts itself to different
environments through the course of ages. But this is a sudden jump to the
ultimate life form, which in the normal course of events should not exist in
this System for billions of years. That disrupts the evolutionary
check-and-balance system. Humanity is not yet ready for this metamorphosis. It
must come slowly and gradually, over a period of millions of years. Let me
sketch for you the future. -
"More and more of the Carriers will appear as Earth plunges deeper into the
heart of the cloud of life energy. The Carriers will feed on those - who were
once their fellows. Eventually only they will exist on this planet, and even
they will die in the end for lack of sustenance. In less than fifty years, the
world will be a barren, dead sphere drifting through space. That is what it
might have been, had we not found a cure!"
Then the Kyrian's clipped, precise voice rang through the
auditorium. - -
"Court speaks truly. You men of this civilization are strange to me. Perhaps
few of you believe the story of my origin. That does not matter. Working
togethei~, Court and I have discovered the nature of the Plague and found a
solution. It is this- The Carriers are forms of life energy. They -can be
destroyed, but only by creating a stronger type of energy which will -drain
their own. Only one thing will do that-atomic power.
"A certain Carrier came in touch with the unguarded atomic power in my space
ship. Later, we searched for him, and found his body near the vessel. Exposure
to the terrific energy had killed him."
Court nodded, remembering how he and Ardath had hunted through the Wisconsin
hills for Sammy, and the burned, inhuman thing they had found at last. The
Kyrian went on.
"Atomic power short-circuits the Carriers, drains their energy. Already we
have constructed portable weapons which are thoroughly satisfactory."
"But the life-cloud in space!" a voice from the audience broke in. "You can't
destroy that!"
The Kyrian smiled grimly.
"True. And more and more Carriers will appear as we approach the nucleus of
the cloud. But we can protect the Earth, create a wall around it, a shell of
atomic energy! With the right machines, we can transform the Heaviside Layer
into a shield that will perfectly insulate this planet against the cosmic
cloud. Solar radiation will still come through unchecked. But not a trace of
the deadly life energy will be able to penentrate the Shield."
A low murmuring in the auditorium grew into a roar. Men rose and shouted
questions, challenges at Ardath. A shield around the Earth? Ridiculous! Such
fantastic pipe-dreams belonged with perpetual motion and other exploded
theories. Ardath glanced wryly at Court.
"Well, I see I can't convince them. Shall we-"
Court was waving his anus, trying to quiet the crowd. His attempts were
useless. Already some of the audience were rising and heading for the exits.
No one saw Court wave toward the wings. But all eyes turned to the stage when
the black curtain rustled apart. Simultaneously a gasp of sheer horror ripped
from hundreds of throats.
On the platform was-a Carrier!
A huge box of luminous metal stood just behind it, in which the horror had
apparently been confined. It was open now, and the luminous fog that
constituted the Carrier was drifting forward with purposeful intent.
Ardath and Court had raced to one side of the stage. Scipio appeared, wheeling
a small contrivance no larger than a dicta-phone. A conical tube topped it,
ending in a translucent lens.


- "Good," Court snapped at the Carthaginian. "But for God's sake, be careful
now!"
The giant nodded with a flash of white teeth. Court turned to the paralyzed
audience.
"Stay where you are! There's no danger, unless you get hysterical and riot."
A uniformed man in the aisle shouted an oath and whipped out his revolver. He
pumped bullets at the glowing creature. Naturally there was no result. Court
waited till the echoes had died.
"No one will deny that this is an authentic Carrier. Watch!" The creature was
at the edge of the platform when Scipio swung his weapon to focus upon it. The
result was unspectacular. A ray of -intense white light struck from the lens,
and the glow surrounding the Carrier merely began to fade. The thing remained
motionless, all its glory dulling.
At last there was only something like a mummy collapsing to lie motionless on
the stage. Scipio switched off the light.
"Take your seats, please," Court said. "I have no more surprises for you. I
shall welcome a committee to examine the body of this Carrier." The first man
to hasten down the aisle was a strongly built, handsome man with grizzled gray
hair. He went directly to Court.
"Mr. President!" Court cried. "I didn't know you intended to be here, or I
wouldn't have-"
"rm glad you did make that experiment," said the President of the United
States. "I doubt if the scientists will fail to approve your plan now." There
was a little twinide in the level gray eyes. "Even if they do, I have
authority under martial law to order you to build your Earth Shield, and to
give you every assistance you require." -
- The big figure turned toward the audience, and the President waved at the
group of reporters.
"Put that on your front pages, boys. Stephen Court's in charge!"
      0     0     0


With silent, incredible speed, Earth swung into acton to fight the cosmic
menace. Stephen Court was in charge. Beside him Ardath worked, untiring,
unsparing of himself. Li Yang, Scipio, and Marion Barton lent their aid.
Staffs of trained scientists gathered from all over the world. Factories were
hastily commandeered, and their machinery


altered so they could turn out quantities of the atomic energy portable guns.
- From San Francisco to New York, from New Orleans to Chicago, trained men
went busily to work. Production of the guns was left to subordinates. Once
provided with the plans, they executed their orders with swift precision.
Troops of militia were armed with the weapons and sent into Plague-infested
areas. New York was cleared of the Carriers, and the other cities as well.
Dozens of the guns were stored in airports, ready for instant transportation
whenever a case of the Plague was reported. Such reports were constant these
days. Earth was approaching dangerously close to the nucleus of the cosmic
cloud.
Ardath flew to China, - with Li Yang and two hundred famous scientists. A job
had to be done there. Two gigantic towers had to be erected, on each side of
the Earth-one in the Orient, one in America. Court was in charge of
constructing the latter. He remained in constant telephonic communication with
Ardath.
Speed was essential. Every resource of the country was turned to building the
Earth Shield. Business was neglected. The Goversurient issued their orders,
delegating certain jobs to certain groups. The people had to be fed, of
course, but every capable man was mustered to the task for which he was best
fitted. Factories worked day and night.
Every other country lent its aid. Canada, England, Germany, France, Italy,
Japan-all forgot their imperialistic and trade quarrels in order to battle the
common enemy. - There was no time for war.
- Build the Towers! Create the Earth Shield! These aims were foremost.
Slowly the mighty obelisks rose. They resembled the Eiffel Tower, but were far
taller and larger. Immense girders buckled huger beams together as the
monoliths rose against the sky day by day. Faster, faster, the men worked. -.
At night, searchlights were used. New roads were built and old ones widened,
all converging on the Towers. A railroad was laid to each one from the nearest
line.
Nearby towns found themselves incredibly augmented in populations. Emergency
barracks rose. Dapper physicists and chemists slept side by side with burly
roustabouts and riveters.
No thought of class, and few quarrels, arose. Each man knew that the Plague
might strike his own family next. Under his breath he whispered:


"Build the Earth Shield! Hurry! Hurry!"   -
Two Towers loomed at last, visible for many miles. Each one was topped with a
shimmering, bright sphere of metal, fifty feet in diameter. From these globes
the atomic energy would flame out, to encircle the planet and transform the
atomic structure of the Heaviside Layer into an impregnable barrier. - -
CHAPTER XX

Thordred Returns

Court had little time to rest. He had frequent reports from the Chief of the
F.B.I., whom he had requested to track down the vanished Thordred. But the
bearded giant had disappeared without trace. His continued presence meant
danger, however. Thordred possessed the knowledge he had stolen from the minds
of both Ardath and Court. The drag-net searched for him vainly.
One night Court, Scipio and Marion stood in the control room just beneath the
huge globe that topped the Tower. The task was finished. The last workman had
just departed in the elevator that led to the round. The three stood quietly,
staring out at the land that stretched far beneath them. Bright moonlight
bathed everything weirdly, yet beautifully.
The room was fifty feet square, a flat platform around which a low railing
ran. There were no walls. Metal supports stood up like thick columns at
intervals. The globe above their heads was hollow, else -not even the tough
reinforced steel of the Tower could have supported its weight.
They could not see the sphere. Nine feet above their heads, the ceiling was
plated with thickness after thickness of Ardath's alloy, the only thing that
would halt the radiation of atomic energy. Court fumbled with a televisor.
'Wish I'd had this finished weeks ago," he complained. "Ardath showed me how
to build it, but I didn't have time. Let's see-"
The screen ran riot with color that swiftly faded into a uniform gray.
"Trying for China?" Marion asked, coming to stand close to Court.


He nodded. - -     -
- - "The other Tower. I'm getting it Here it is!"
On the screen, the fat, butter-colored face of Li Yang appeared. The beady
black eyes stared.
"Court? Hello. How is the work?" -
"All finished," Court sighed. "We're just waiting for you. Bolted the last
connection half an hour ago."
"Fine!" the Oriental applauded. "We'll be ready tomorrow, perhaps sooner. Wait
a moment. Here's Ardath." -
The Kyrian's thin, ascetic face replaced that of Li Yang. His eyes were
red-rimmed with fatigue.
"So you're finished, Court," he said. "Good. My workmen were not much slower.
We'll be done in a few hours, not tomorrow, Li Yang. Then we can turn on the
power. Don't forget"- Ardath's lips thinned-"we must be careful. Both of us
must turn on the switches at exactly the same moment. Otherwise there will be
disaster.
"The atomic screen must meet just halfway around the Earth. If you turn on
your power too soon, your energy screen will smash mine back and destroy this
Tower completely. We must be completely accurate."
Court glanced at an instrument panel near him.
"I will. Wait a minute. Someone's coming up in the elevator."
The warning bell was ringing. Presently the lift rose into view. An overalled
figure, half hidden under the weight of a wooden box, stepped out of the cage.
Scipio turned from where he had been leaning on the rail and staring down into
the black gulf. He peered at the workman. Marion's brows drew together in
puzzlement.
"What's this?" she asked. "We didn't-"    -The box fell crashing to the floor.
The face of the man behind it was revealed. It was no longer bearded;
clean-shaven now, and with the hair bleached yellow. Yet the arrogant mouth,
hawk nose and the tawny amber eyes could belong to only one man.
Thordred!
His hand swept up, a lens blinking bluely in it. The mouth gaped in a snarl.
"Don't move!" His voice shook with mad fury. "Don't move a muscle. I've-come
back!"
Court still stood before the televisor. On the screen he saw Ardath's face
watching, immobile and intent. He glimpsed a heavy wrench that was lying
forgotten on the ledge of the


televisor. It was hidden from Thordred's view by the Instrument's bulk. Court
let his hand gently close over it.
"Don't be a fool," he said. "You can't possibly escape."
Thordred laughed harshly. '-'No, you saw to that. Your
police have come after me. If I hadn t stolen your memories,
I'd never have escaped them. I disguised myself as a work- -
man and rode up here. Nobody stopped me. And I have a
weapon now! I made it, with the knowledge and memories I
took from Ardath."
Marion's face was paper-white. Scipio stood motionless, his gigantic hands
gripping the rail behind him.
"What do you intend to do?" Court asked.
"Kill you," Thordred rasped. "Then I'll turn on the power
-I know how to do that-and the energy will destroy Ardath in his Tower. With
you two out of the way, I can rule the
- Earth. My brain, with the combined knowledge of yours and -his, is wiser
than any other in the world."
"You may do that," Court admitted, warily watching for an -opening. "But what
about the Plague?"
"I haven't forgotten that. The Towers can be repaired. The Earth Shield can be
created, even without you and Ardath. But then I shall rule this planet!"
Softly, without moving his lips, Court whispered into the televisor.
"Turn on your power, Ardath. It'll destroy Thordred. We'll go with it, but
that's the only way."
The Kyrian did not speak, but he shook his head slightly. Thordred moved
forward. The blue lens in his hand lifted.
"Now," he said. "Now you die!"
Court's muscles tensed for a hopeless leap. He knew he could not reach the
other in time. His fingers tightened over the wrench. Scipiahad not moved. His
eyes were aglow.
Murder-lust sprang into Thordred's dark face. He aimed the crystal-
"Thordred!" -
Ardath's voice rang out from the televisor. Startled, Thordred involuntarily
glanced toward the instrument. Simultaneously on the screen a beam of blinding
white light flashed from Ardath's hand. It flamed into Thordred's eyes,
blinding him.
Roaring, the giant shook his head, a ray of blue radiance spearing wildly from
the lens he held. Court snatched up the wrench and hurled it with all his
strength. It struck Thor-


dred's hand. The lens was hurled away, to shatter on the metallic floor.
Ready to hurl himself at Thordred, Court was halted by Scipio's bull voice.
The Carthaginian roared;
"Back, Court! He is mine-mine to slay!"
No longer blinded by the ray, Thordred turned to face this new menace. With
the snarl of a cornered beast, he closed with his attacker, The mighty,
hair-covered hands closed about Scipio's throat. The Carthaginian tore them
away, and the two men gripped each other about the waist.
They reeled back and forth, each striving to throw the other. To and fro on
the platform they wrestled, hundreds of feet above the ground. Staggering to
the railed brink and back, Thordred bellowed with insane rage. His mouth gaped
open as he sought to sink his teeth in Scipio's throat.
The Carthaginian swung his fist in a short arc. The power of the blow brought
blood gushing from Thordred's cheek.
Court and Marion-and, on - the screen, Ardath and Li Yang-watched the two
titans battle. The men were well matched. Thordred was the taller, but Scipio
seemed to weigh a trifle more. Yet the raging, murderous frenzy that filled
them both was exactly equal. -
Abruptly Thordred drove a foul blow at Scipio's middle. The Carthaginian
grunted, and his guard dropped for a moment. Instantly Thordred hurled himself
upon his opponent. The two went down, Thordred on top. The hairy hands again
sank in Scipio's corded throat.
Court sprang forward, the wrench in his hand. Scipio turned his head slightly.
His deep voice roared a warning.
"Back, Court! He is mine to slay!"
Then the iron hands of the gladiator from Cartha~e found their mark-the throat
of the savage from the Earth s youth.
And they sank deep, deep! All the tremendous strength in Scipio's muscles
seemed to flow into his arms. Cords and knots stood out under his bronzed
skin.
Thordred's face was suddenly gorged with purple. Blood stained his shaved
chin, began trickling down. Desperately ho strove to throttle his opponent.
Abandoning the effort, he released his grip and stabbed his fingers down at
Scipio's eyes. -
The Carthaginian expertly rolled his head, and the foul missed its mark.
Thordred was suddenly clawing at the terrible hands that


shut off his breath. His body jerked and writhed like a hooked fish. His eyes
were distended and protruding. Frantically he tried to tear himself free, and
could not.
"You left her to die," Scipio whispered.
Court knew that be spoke of Jansaiya, the Atlantean priestess.
One last frightful effort Thordred made. Something snapped with a brittle,
crackling report. Simultaneously the giant flung himself up with one uncoiling
motion. He stood upright, amber eyes glaring, breath hissing and rattling into
his starved lungs.
Suddenly the huge head lolled forward slackly on its broken neck. For a
heart-beat, Thordred stood silhouetted against the dark sky. Then he crashed
lifeless to the floor. -
Scipio sprang up. He heaved up the heavy body of Thordred and went staggering
toward the railing. He flung the body out into the abyss, and stared after it
with brooding eyes. -
"Your vengeance, Jansaiya," he whispered. "And mine!" Then Scipio Agricola
Africanus, the man from Carthage, put his head down on his arms. He began to
weep great choking sobs that ripped harshly from his throat.
Court looked away in sympathy and walked toward the televisor screen. Against
it Marion leaned, faint with reaction. Both Ardath and Li Yang were watching.
Though the Oriental's gross yellow face wets immobile, his lacquer eyes were
suddenly aglow with pity.
"Ohe," Li Yang sighed softly. "Alas for such men as Scipio, who find neither
thrones -nor love."
Ardath turned when a man appeared behind him on the screen. After a few words,
he faced Court.
"The work has been done sooner than I expected. We can turn on the power now.
Compare your chronometer with mine.
The two delicate time-pieces checked precisely.
"At exactly eleven, throw your switch," Ardath instructed.
"I shall do the same."
There were ten seconds to go-five-three- Court's hand trembled on the switch.
Two. One. . .
Now!
Deafening thunder bellowed out from the summit of the -Tower. For miles
around, the roaring blast shattered windows and awakened sleepers to panicky
fright. White light made


the country bright as day. For a second, the maelstrom of raving light and
sound continued. Then it swiftly died. There
- was sileimce, save for a low humming.
"Good!" Ardath said on the screen. "We timed it exactly right. In two minutes,
watch the sky. If it lights up, we have succeeded."
With one accord, Court and Marion hurried to the railing. Even Scipio lifted
his-head to stare at the black sky.
Two minutes to wait. The incredible barrier of electrons, the curtain of
atomic energy, was rushing around the Earth, spreading out from the points of
origin in the twin Towers.
One minute dragged by. Then, without warning, the sky turned white. The dim
stars vanished. A curtain of pallid white brilliance hung over the Earth, like
a shining ivory bowl over
turned upon the land.   -
A single heart-beat it remained, and then faded and was gone. But Court knew
that the Earth Shield had been created. -That barrier would forever safeguard
mankind.
"We've won!" His voice was hoarse with triumph. "Marion, we've saved
humanity!"
There was something inexpressibly tender in the girl's eyes as she watched
him. For now she knew that Stephen Court was a man whom she could love and
cherish-not a cold, inhuman machine. In the hour of his triumph, he exulted
not because he had solved a terrible problem with his keen brain. Court
rejoiced because he had saved human beings from horror and death.
"Yes," Marion said softly. "We've won, Steve. Both of us have won what we
wanted." - -
- From the metallic sphere overhead; invisible energy flared out, challenging
the stars as it poured its mighty power into the Earth Shield.
             -EPILOGUE  --

One year later, a little group stood on the Wisconsin hills, examining a huge
golden space ship that loomed against the green slope and the summer sky. It
had taken months to build a new vessel to Ardath's specifications. But at last
the task had been finished, the equipment installed, and the provisions taken
aboard. In every respect, the craft was a duplicate of the Kyrian original,
save for a few new devices which Ardath and Court had perfected.
Scipi~, Li Yang and Ardath stood together at the open air-


lock, Marion and Court a few feet away. It was difficult to find words at this
moment of sad farewell.
"I am sorry you will not go with us, both of you," Ardath said after a time.
"Yet you may be right."
"You know how I feel about it," Court returned. "The Plague is destroyed. - It
will never come again, thanks to the Earth Shield. But new dangers may arise.
These people among whom I was born are my people. I must be ready to serve and
help them. I think that was the reason I was given a mind evolved beyond my
time.
"I can help in so many ways, Ardath. There is so much I can do to improve,
this world of mine. Already, in one year, vast strides have been made. Atomic
power has outlawed war. When I die, I want to die in a Utopia that I have
helped to build."
Axdath nodded with understanding. "I came through time to find a super-mind
whom I could abduct to start a new race. Well, I have found that
super-mind-and you are wiser than I, Stephen Court. We are all part of some
cosmic pattern, and this pattern works toward good and not evil. It builds and
does not destroy. So I shall go on in my search for a race where I can find
kinship and happiness. Perhaps, a thousand years from now, I shall stand
beside your grave, Court."
"I, too," Scipio broke in. "Your world is a fine one, Court, and- some of it I
like. But I follow a dream. Mayhap I cancarve out a kingdom in1some distant
future-" He did not finish, but his face was suddenly somber. "I cannot stay
here," he said at last. "Jansaiya died here, and that would always be an
aching pain in my h'eart."
"Nor will I remain," Li Yang murmured. "Perhaps it is merely curiosity that
impels me to go on with Ardath. I do not know. But the unknown has a certain
fascination, and I am anxious to know what will exist a million years from
now. So farewell, and"-the tiny mouth twisted grotesquely-"and do not forget
fat old Li Yang."
The gross figure turned hastily and disappeared into the ship. -
Scipio bent and touched his lips to Marion's brow before he squeezed Court's
hand in a mighty grip.
"The gods watch over you," he rumbled, and was gone in-side.
Now Ardath's strange, alien eyes dwelt on the faces of Marion and Court. -


- "There is nothing I can say," he whispered. "Only, farewell."
Some indefinable bond of kinship between minds flashed for an instant as Court
and Ardath gazed into each other's eyes. Then the Kyrian stepped back - into
the ship and the port swung shut.
The vessel lifted. It rose silently and dwindled against the blue, a bright
golden ovoid that faded to a speck and was out of sight. It sped toward the
orbit it would follow around the Earth, perhaps for thousands of years, until
Ardath and Scipio and Li -Yang awoke to follow their strange destiny. - -
Two figur~s stood close together on the slope. Marion and Court looked up
until all trace of the golden ship was gone.
There was only the blue sky then, and the green hills of Wisconsin.
Still silent, and with the man's arm holding the girl's slim form close to
him, they turned to retrace their steps to the highway where a car waited.
There was nothing they could say, and no need for words had they found any. .
-