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JANUARY 1950

Trade Mark Reglstcjrsd U. S.
Patent Office No. 378407

aU JmiijuMA Qompbh

WILLIAM B. ZIFP

Clio.iima.n of fhe Board
and Publisher

B. G. DAVIS

President

Vice-Presfdenfs:

MICHAEL H. FROELICH

Dir. Easfern Tiivision
H. J. MORGA^iROTH

VxodvLCiion Director

H. G. STRONG

Circulation Director

Secretary-Treasurer
A. T. PULLEN

Art Director
HERMAN R. BOLLIN

Editor
HOWARD BROWNE

Managing Ldiiox
WILLIAM L. HAMLING

AssQZiai^ Editor
LILA SHAFFER

Art Editor
BRAD PENDLETON

TH£_OBSERVATOnY

By I h» Editor 6

A FINISHED SUBJECT
By Walter Webb

MICHELSON'S TIDES
By W. R. Chase

BUGS VERSUS WElOS

By William Karney 8'

THE BENTHOSCOPE
By H. R. Stanton , .

GRASS PILLS
By Jon Barry . .

LIGHTNING MAGNtT
By A. Morris

81
129
129

TV INGENUITY

By Lynn Standish '53

FANTASTIC FACTS
By Lee Ov/ens

MECHANICAL MAIDS
By Pete Bogg

BIOLOGICAL ATOM
By F. L. Cope

154
157
153

BRAINSTORM

By June Lurie ' ^'^

BRUNETTI'S BABY

By Sandy Miller 1^-

WHALE SIZE

By Sam Lane

BACKWARD IN TIME.

By Don Blair

161
162

I'Mollshed monthly -jy ZIFF-DAVIS PIJULISHIXG COMPANY at 185 North
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VOLUME 24 NUMBER 1

/tU STORIES C^^m^ii^^

WE DANCE FOR THE DOM (Novelet-! 7.000) .,. By RJcHard S. Shaver 8

Th.r, If Jhl tTho't-./Jr pcwor of . .Hp.. c.own But ♦.. -,.d Do.. r«l,r of . dUfant
planet, fought back In the one way his enemies overlooked!

CITY OF THE DEAD (Novelet— 23,000) By G. M. Martin

So.e !K;-L^rt'r::7pon,1ble for th. .pp^enf de.th of , cHV. .n«. popuUc. Mu.t
everybody b« r.viv.d before the truth could be fully revealed?

VIAL OF IMMORTALITY (Novelet- 1 4.000) By Cr«;g Browning «2

ThU J!r-.."%ow.r':« n,ethodJcel.y wiping out the Carter family. But the danger went
beyond that: unless Or. Sehwiek acted, all mankind was doomed.

OMEGA (Nov.let-12,000) By Suy Archette 108

When IKtbut'U'''".Ir.U on Ear,h it is hi. solemn duty to restore mankind to its rightful
place. But what If that last human is a helpless slave?

GEHENNA. INCORPORATED (Short-8.000) , By Berkeley Livingston 130

/leredith forgot is that Hell, itself, has the same location!

A vast

what Meredith forgot

Cover painting by Arnold Kohn. illustrating a
scene from "We Dance for the Dom

CoDvriKht 1949. ZIFF-DAVIS PUBLISHING COMPANY

material is subject Jo whatever revision is nece^^^^^ mee i ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^

ers all authore'. contributors' and contestants i»^^f„^!"2,J^fj^i\y and promotion !n connec-
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fictitious. Use of a name that is the same as tnai oi any hvhib v^

Observatory

Pn€4M^^^^ NEW EDITOR

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HOWARD BROWNE

WITH THIS first issue of 1950, Howard
Browne takes the reins from the
capable hands of Raymond A. Palmer as
the new editor-in-chief of AMAZING
STORIES. We consider ourselves extreme-
ly fortunate in having been able to lure
away from the gold signs and glamor of
Hollywood, this extremely capable and pro-
lific author of five best-selling novels, in-
numerable science-fiction stories, over 500
radio scripts, and several movie scenarios.
This is probably the first time in history
that a magazine has stolen a stellar writer
from Hollywood, rather than the other way
around.

FROM A childhood spent in Arapahoe and
Lincoln, Nebraska, Howard naoved to

Chicago when he was 18. Shortly there-
after, a chance occurrence led him to read
a textbook on creative writing and then,
more as a gag than anything else, he tried
his hand at doing fiction. He was startingly
successful from the very beginning — and
achieved great popularity in pulp science-
fiction under numerous pseudonyms.

UNDER HIS now famous pen name of
John Evans, he has established an en-
viable reputation for himself as a writer of
outstandmg mystery-suspense novels, and
has been acclaimed by reviewers as being
among the best mystery writers of our
time.

IN THE field of science-fiction, his first
book, WARRIOR OP THE DAWN,
published over seven years ago, is still
bringing in royalty checks. And at least
three of his book-length novels were ad-
judged to be among the most popular pub-
lished during 1948 — FORGOTTEN
WORLDS, THE MAN FROM YES-
TERDAY, and THE RETURN OF
THARN (a sequel to WARRIOR OF THE
DAWN).

MANAGING EDITOR of the Ziff-Davis
Fiction Group for five years before
leaving for Hollywood two years ago to
devote all his time to writing, Howard has
a true feeling for the editor-writer-reader
relationship which is so all-important in the
successful publishing of a top-flight maga-
zine. And within due course, as soon as he
becomes rehabilitated in his new job, we
have his promise of original stories from
his o\\m pen along the lines of his earlier
novels.

ICH, THEN, in the experiences gar-
nered from years of editing and free-
lance writing, Howard Browne brings to
his new job the wisdom and foresight re-
quired to put out a truly captivating
science-fiction magazine. The AMAZING
STORIES that has always been a leader in
the realm of science-fiction literature, will
continue under Mr. Browne's sensitive se-
lection of exciting and awesome stories, to
provide you with many enjoyable and pro-
vocative hours of reading pleasure.

reasons why

6ffers you MORE MOHEYM and SUCCESS.'

REASON #!• If you were an expert accountant
right now, chances are you would find yourself
among the highest-paid of all professional men
and women. Even back in "'depression years,"
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REASON #!2» The demand for accountants is
great — everywhere. All businesses must have
trained accountants to cope with ever-growing
requirements. It's a profession offering wide op-
portunity — always — to the man who knows.

REASON #3« You can fit into any business,
anywhere in the country — because accounting
principles are universal. Think what this mcg^s
in terms of security and independence!

REASON #4« Accountancy is open to all. Any

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.Ag9,....^

WE DANCE lor the DOM

By Richard S. Shaver

The Doni had a triple crown, and It
was by a strange circumstance indeed
that he set it on Green Wing's headS

VANUE'S great hand, swift and
light as a seabird for all its
size, reached for a bronze wand
and touched with it a silver bell.

Beside her Firko yawned a little
sleepily, saying: '*Must we look at
more of those derrish spools? Surely
we know enough about the effects?"

''This is for Mion" softly Vanue's
slow sweet-toned words dropped like
struck notes from some rich life-vi-
brant harp. *'You will find it inter-
esting, too. If I did not think it would
drive the sleep from your bored face,
I would not send for them!"

Firko turned his broad, ruddy face
to hers, laughing silently. "It's not

He kn«if before her. "I am yourf
to command," he sAid joffly.

AMAZING STORIES

tleep, its dreams from your eyes, the
magic of your hair, the moonshine of
vouT ivory flesh caught in my mmd.
A man in love is always sleepy m ap-
pearance."

Vanue ignored him, turning to
Won, come to Falnorn, their home
on the satellite of Enn.

"You came to learn « «erta/n
method of organization to use in your
work among the barbarian nations. In
the records I will show you, there is
* group of races, intermixed through-
cut one giant planet and four satel-
lites. These are dark planets m un-
Btarred space, yet their culture is shat-
tered and falls before a singular so-
cieties grasp for dominance. I will
ghow you why these peaceful peoples
fell into war..."

One of the floating-haired young
Nor maids came on quick sUkenly
gliding feet upon the glittering mir-
ror-floor. Into her Mistress" hands
ghe put a file-disc, bearing in slots
near a hundred spoola of thought

wire. • I J •

The fluorescing vapors swirled m
the prisoning force field, the aug-
mented record reached out and seized
us with the greater-than-reality illu-
sion that is the value ct record. For
one can not forget or miss one detail
of the recorded wisdom.

CHAPTER ONE

rpHE EYE of view swept space
•*• through and narrowed on the
Blow. Blow, turning of four dark balls
about a fifth— much greater and the

center. . u tt.

Each of them was starred with the
red and gold and green of city domes.
The red were the factory cities, the
green the places of growth of plants
for food, and the gold were where the
peoples llved-and lived for the plea-

sure of life alone.

Then oddly, the eye of view swept
up and away from the five balls of
spinning rock, and outward for a
space. Narrowing again to closer view
upon a vague drifting, a glowing
cloud wide-flung like a great river of
deadly, venomous mist-force. A ser-
pentine tide of dust-motes, giving off
through the projection-screen the
jarring vibrance of exploding atoms.
The slow, impersonal voice of Va-
nue struck again through the great
chamber, and Mion's heart rose to it
as always:

"The current already impinges
upon the orbit of Gran Jac, the larg-
est planet. For one month of our
days it has so flowed. I want you to
notice the change. It is my purpose
to show the error it brings into their
pattern of life. Greater it grows as
the flow increases."

Again the eye of view left the vast
serpent of evil force, and swung back
to the five planets, starred with the
city keeps of several divergent races.
Nearer, and down, and now alighting
upon a wide balcony within the Keep

of Dorneen,

« • *

MELOA T, her name, upon the
band of her carnival bonnet, as
was the custom. For who knows who.
when the mad gaiety sweeps in tides
of mirth, mingling all?

She stood, looking down, brooding
with an anger strange there above all
the laughter and the skirl of music in
the wide plaza below. Anger that
these were untouched, while her own

mate ...

Golden her skin, blue and soft-
curled her rich wealth of hair.
Brown-red her eyes, hot with a deep
resentment against Fate, or men.
Some thing upon which she could not
quite pin the fault.

Glittering the badge hidden from
the casual eye between her firm

WE DANCE FOR THE DOM

breasts— that badge the sign of the
Winged Blade, set with the single
green gem of Dom, given her as a
special honor by the Triple Crown
himself.

Puzzled her thought, for until a
month ago, peace had lain like a
blanket of warm benevolence between
the five planets — and now had struck
the plague !

The plague, strange rumours of its
being spread by conspirators, and
deaths unexplained even by the
plague. To top it, her own Kal Harn
had shown the angry red spot to her
inadvertently. She knew!

Silly of him to avoid her, to pre-
tend anger, she knew it meant death.
That he should think she wanted life
without him ! Yet, he would not come
near her. Even now he waited in the
hidden craft among the cold rocks
outside, that had brought her. Locked
in, he spoke to her only through the
telaug disc within her shoulder orna-
ment.

Kal Harn, an Eagle Blade, to fall
among the first ! When the sudden
need was so great, their peril, unex-
pected — finding them all at a loss.

A soft sound, behind — she whirled.

Kal Harn himself, come here in
spite of the spot upon his arm! She
put up her arms to him, but his lean
face remained aloof, he put her arms
aside.

"It can*t hurt to look, poor devils.
They are all laughing to keep out the
fear. To have one last fling before. . ,"

Even as Meloa noted he had for-
gotten to conceal the Eagle Blade,
shining symbol upon his bright green
tunic with the silver star beneath, as
if even here the Blades had no ene-
mies — the man came from the door-
way, on the run!

He left his feet two paces away,
and stPuck Kal with both knees high
in the small of his back.

Kal fell with a groan, as the Felar-

nese, his black-bristled face distorted
with savage, strange hate, tugged a
leaden sap from his hip, swung it up.
Kneeling there on Kal, he ignored
Meloa as a helpless bit of decoration,
v/hich was a vast mistake.

JLJELOA CAUGHT the heavy sap
as he swung it down — in her
palm, wrenched and twisted hard.
The leather and lead came free from
his clutch, and Meloa swung as quick
as a striking snake — down upon the
shaven head of the attacker.

Head and sap made a sickening dull
thud together. The thing was heavier
than it seemed, but even as he pitched
forward she struck again, above hi«
ear. He fell across KaFs back, so that
she had to roll him over to get him
off.

Kal grinned weakly. **I can't get
used to this! We never had trouble
with the Felarnese, much as they may
hate us. Now, they're after our blood
on sight!"

"You!*' Meloa could not keep the
angry scorn out of her voice. "You
knew, yet you wore the Blade in plain
sight! What kind of agent are you?
Don't you even know why we are
here?"

Kal looked at her dumbly, rubbing
his side.

"Oh, Kal, you arc sicker than you
realize! Please let me take you now,
this nad, to Mcd-Center."

Kal sat up, still rubbing his back.

"Did you tell me why we're here,
darling? I didn't attend the meeting,
you know."

"I tried to, but how do I know if
you listened when you wouldn't even
let me see you? If you had remained
in the ship, as you said! It wouldn't
have mattered. Now, we're spotted!"

"Maybe not. It doesn't matter now
anyway. Hear the call?"

From the disc on her shoulder or-

AMAZING STORIES

nament, and the one hidden in his
uniform cap, was coming the thin
scream of summons. They knew what
the sound meant, though no one but a
Blade would even have noticed the
thin, eery vibration, almost inaudible.
"The Teyna screams!" said Meloa,
gripping with her hands the strong
arm of Kal Harn, now leaning sick-
ened against the balustrade. The at-
tacker's knees had struck hard and
deep, leaving agony in the soft kid-
ney region.

**They sent us here, to Dornoon.
Now they summon us back! Some-
thing has happened. And we have
learned nothing."

'*We have learned the Felarnese
seek our lives. It is much, the
Blades needed to be sure of that."

Meloa still stood over the prone,
long limbed body of the unconscious
foreigner, the sap swinging in her
hand thoughtfully. Kal frowned.

"Long, long have the rumours
floated, but it meant little. Now, sud-
denly, all the little states are split-
ting off from the Triple Crown, the
Dom knows not where to turn. All
falls upon we Blades. We must pin
down the center from which this
death purpose flows. Perhaps there
is no center, but only some madness
without real plan. Perhaps it is the
plague, the fear of it, the attempt to
retreat into isolation and so stem the
spread of it."

Meloa snorted, wrinkling her nose
in unmaidenly disgust. "You think
like any babe ! It is the Triple Crown
they want, and these dissident groups
are aggravated by false attacks — and
so are turned against the Dom by
some plotting group. We will find
them, and the struggle will cease as
quickly as it began. The ancient com-
pact can not fall! The progress of a
century of peace would be wiped out.
All will be at the throats of the other
again, as in the old days. It cannot

be! Someone must see to that!*'

"You're too optimistic," said Kal.
"The Dom is old, and too cunning for
his own good. He is not trusted, too
often have his little schemes been ex-
posed to his discredit. You are prej-
udiced because the Dom favored you
with the green star on your Blade in-
signia, you are blinded by gratitude.
This struggle will not cease while
he lives."

"There are grievances, true. But
not serious, nor really worth their
lives!"

"Freedom can seem worth many
lives, and long have these Felarnese
wanted rule by a family of their own
blood, their own race. He fended
them off with his cousins, with the
Green Wing of the Tal— and they
hate the Tal, even if the Wing is
beautiful, she can never win them
over truly."

"Stand here, when the bird of war
screams from our discs! This traitor
stirs, we have to leave or deal with
him."

The pair moved off toward the
door, even as the man on the floor
lifted his head, his face rapt with
thought. He had overheard and un-
derstood where it was they went, and
who they were. He had been told only
to kill the man, now two were to be
dealt with. Well, it was news the
Blades considered the Tal of their
own party ! The fools !

VANUE*S VOICE blended with
the skirl of the Sendal dance
music from the pipes of the revelers,
as she murmured :

*'Note, Mion, how the thoughts of
these peoples turn to struggle as the
serpent tide of oncoming space dust
thickens about their worlds. The
fangs of the serpent head only touch
the five planets, and already the once

WE DANCi FOR THE DOM

unified races split and prepare for
struggle. Kind against kind, mind
against mind— the dis-illusion strikes
error deep into all the thought pat-
tern. Death-dealing WAR only can
come of their thought, for such is the
error! Magnetically the splitting of
all the planned unity occurs even as it
is pictured in the mind screens within
the brains ignorant of the cause of
such thoughts. It is simple when one
observes afar as we are doing, but it is
impossible to avoid the error when the
mind itself and those of all about suf-
fer from the sundering repellant mag-
netism from the ions of decay
brought by the flow from space."

Mion scarce heard the voice of her,
blending as it did with the scene
through which the two Blades
pushed, angling toward the far bottle-
neck where the crystal-clear dome of
the Keep gave on the air-locks that
kept ouf of the cold of the sunless
world,

|7"AL HARN followed close on the
■*-^ heels of the tall lithe girl; Ama-
zon-strong gleaming-sheathed in
smooth green syntha-skin.

Kal tried hard to avoid contact
with the untainted bodies about him,
keeping the stricken arm under his
cloak, letting the girl ahead make
path. The fear of giving the plague,
etched his face with lines of worry.
None knew the cause or how it
spread. Only they knew that remorse-
lessly it struck —

After the two darted the tall, lean,
dark-faced Felarn spy, his whole ap-
pearance foreign here among the
blue-haired Nines, off-shoot as they
were of Meloa's own race of Node. He
must not lose sight! Freedom from
the Dom, independence for his race —
hung upon letting no Blade move un-
attended. Had not the Green Wing
promised? The Cranes would not fail

her. They could not, once that ally
was lost, only defeat would be theirs!

Kal Harn, head turning constantly
to avoid contact, caught a glimpse of
the dark, intent face. He whirled,
leaped, drew back his arm. His fist
lashed out, landing high on the
swarthy cheek-bone. The man stag-
gered. Kal brought his right up from
the ground, but the spy swayed
easily outside, and came back with
two swift blows to his face, blinding
Kal.

Kal gave him elbows, to keep him
off till his eyes cleared. The angry
plague spot on his arm throbbed pain-
fully, reminding him he might be
dooming this man to the same fate —
but he buried the thought. The spy
brought up a knee that found the pit
of his stomach. Karn reeled back, and
the man*s fist crashed again and
again to his face in swift fury. Then,
he saw again clearl5^ and blocked a
blow, catching it on the palm of his
hand. He feinted with his left, the
arm that hurt now terribly. The spy
ducked the expected blow, and Harn
blasted his right to the jaw with
everything he had. The bones seemed
to give, the man crumpled, caught
himself, sagged to one knee, holding
his face. Merciless, Kal slugged him
twice on the temple and he sprawled
unconscious. Kal stood there, nursing
his bleeding knuckles.

He hated that throbbing spot on his
arm. Why, why, he wondered? Why
death for the Blades? Just what did
the Felarnese mean by following, by
attacking a Blade? One would have
thought the man would have given
up after the first attempt failed.
They must have been given orders to
kill or follow to destination all
Blades — to follow until they knew
where they could be found by a force
sufficient to kill them. But what did
they expect to gain by killing a few
Blades? They were too many for

AMAZING STORIES

such tactics to eliminate them soon
enough to save the Felarnese from
their vengeance. Kal shrugged the
problem off as Meloa tugged at his
sleeve.

CHAPTER TWO

OUTSIDE THE Keep, the still
stars blazed afar, the naked rock
reared black and stark, streaked with
the silver of ancient ice unmelted.

Kal and Meloa ran in long leaps,
their muscles were strained in the
gravity of Gran Jac, as were all the
Blades during their youth, The grav-
ity of this lesser satellite Dornoon
was slight compared to that of Gran
Jac or even of Node.

On the left, in the sky, the vast
black round that was Gran Jac hung
like the mysterious home of giants
of the darkness that it was. A tremen-
dous round scarred shield, dotted
here and there with the great dull
red gems that were the cities of the
giant men of Gran Jac.

Beside Gran Jac moved visibly the
tiny brilliant marble that was Felarn,
rapid in its orbit, and farther on the
broad sweet green round of Node,
gemmed with the sapphires that were
cities, and hung about with the gold-
en rayed fires of the heat spheres.
The other satellite of Gran Jac was
hidden by the bulk of Dornoon be-
neath their feet.

In his heart, Kal felt a swift pulse
of longing for the sweet air of Node,
cleaned as it was by the white leaves
of the pale trees that grew there only.
For Node, the mother of both the
Nines and the Nodes, had long ago
been warmed by the heat spheres set
aswing above her by the father of
science.

Node alone had natural air and
plants, unlike the more backward
Gran Jac and the satellites.
The secret of powering the heat

spheres had been kept by the ancient
Doms of Node. One more rankling
issue— that secret— perhaps the para-
mount cause of the recent turbulence.
Even as Kal stared up nostalgically
at the dim green glow of Node, the
weakness struck him!

He fell, cracking his head globe
against the black rocks. Meloa, with
no time to think, for air gushed in-
stantly from the long fissure in the
plastic, picked him up in her two
arms and ran on, hardly missing a
stride. His weight was no great bur-
den here.

Frantically she turned the dial set
in the round lock face of the space.
Bundled Harn in, swung shut the
heavy metal, snapped the dogs, pulled
down the air lever. Unscrewed his
broken head-piece, threw it aside,
raised his head:
**Kal, speak! Speak to me, darling!"
Listening for his breath, faint it
was and weak, but stronger breath
by breath. He sighed, moved his
stricken arm.

"I've got to take off, Kal,'* panted
Meloa. "There may be others, now
that they know us. Only the carnival
law forbidding weapons saved us. I'll
strap you in. We have to report, and
then you're for the Med-center."

Kal struggled to his feet with her
help, staggered to his acceleration
cradle, lay half unconscious while
she strapped him in, pneumo-pads
tight about him.

"Meloa, I'm done. I don't like the
outlook, better it might be if you
turned in your Blade sign. Give up
your commission — return to your
home. There is some vile mystery
about this sudden rising of the Clans,
of the Felarneac, of the Gran Jac Ul-
timatum to the Dom. He cannot win,
and only a fool gives allegiance to
a fool. How the Dom got himself *into
this, I know not, nor how he can re-
trieve anything. Get out, while there

WE DANCE FOR THE DOM

is time! I cannot help you!''

Meloa touched his hot face with
the tips of her fingers. "Don't think
of it, Kal. Forget the struggle and
get well. I will do what seems best."
"I don't trust the Dom, long ago I
learned that about him that is not to
be mentioned. Long as I have served
him loyally, still I have always known
there was reason to doubt him."

Kal tried to go on talking, but his
voice trailed off weakly, his eyes
closed. Meloa darted forward to the
controls, snapped the pads tight about
the pilot seat, pulled back the throt-
tle. The center jet roared, the black
dark outside was lashed with a great
whip of glaring yellow light as the
little ship curved steeply up, swung
in a long turn and arrowed away to-
ward the gemmed green disc of dis-
tant Node.

gENEATH THE Palace of the Tri-
pie Dome, there was a retreat
known to few, built centuries ago by
the first Dom of Node. Cut from the
solid rose-granite on which the three
towers rested, a long low-arching tun-
nel of a room, the harsh rock yet un-
softened even by the spilled luxury
of furs and hung tapestrys. The soft
body of the old Dom was ill at ease,
always, here.

It was a warrior's room, and the
Dom was no warrior, the blood of the
Doms had run thin long ago. If, in
truth, he was of the Blood. Even that
had been whispered of him.

He sat, wearily turning the pages
of a worn leather-bound volume,
listening to the increasing stir with a
worried ear. Sounds from the palace
chambers above were brought down
here by a speaking tube, cunningly
contrived to augment even a whisper
to audible volume. Many a secret plot
he had spied upon from this place,

with his ears only, given thus power
to hear in all the important rooms of
the palace.

The time was almost at hand, and
he must reveal to these simple-minded
followers of his the truth of their
predicament. Would they retain their
ancient loyalty, or turn and flee, leav-
ing him defenseless to face the long-
gathering wrath?

Idly his still-bright eyes ran over
the dull type, reading:

"For an age the black skinned giant
race of Gran Jac held all dominance,
all rule, over the five planets. And no
man knows how long this was true,
for the giants destroyed the written
records of the smaller races of the sat-
ellites. But in those days, every city
dome raised its own food, the warmth
provided by localized fires from local
power sources. Even oil and coal were
brought and burned, even into his-
toric times this work of mankind was
paramount, mining fuel and raising
food kept the energies of man di-
rected only to the creating of gardens
that they might live. And the great
size of Gran Jac races made them un-
equaled in battle, and a harsh rule
they exercised— taking the little peo-
ple off to the great domes of Gran
Jac to labor or to die. And many did
die, before their muscles hardened to
the great weight of the planet.

Then, after all that dark time, came
the man named Enuj Ra, who inge-
niously created the first fire-globe of
undying warmth, and set it aswing
above the dead cold round of his
planet, our own mother Node. At
first the men of Gran Jac laughed at
the pretty toy, but the people of Node,
overjoyed at the possibilities, helped
Enuj Ra create more and bigger fire-
globes and tow them into their orbits
above Node. Gradually the warmth
spread, the air became atmosphere in-
stead of ice, plants began to appear
—and the men of Gran Jac came to

AMAZING STORIES

superintend the planting of the whole
planet for their food.

But Enuj Ra was proven truly a ge-
nius, then. He hid himself away, and
upon the arrival of the great ships
of Gran Jac, he turn^ the master
switch, and each fire globe went in-
stantly out, in the sky above. Raging
were the giants to learn that no food
would they get from the new power
unless Node was given freedom.
Searching and tumult filled Node, as
they sought out the genius— but find
him they did not. . ."

•'Enuj Ra," murmured the Dom. *lf
your shade had the power, he could
do another good turn tonight.

CALMLY THE old Dom, of the
blood of Enuj Ra himself, read
on. Overhead the muffled sound of
the gathering grew, and his ears
counted the slow sound of the chro-
nodisc gear.

**Thus by secrecy insuring the dom-
inance of the people of Node over
all races of the five planets, having in
his hands complete control over the
new and so-needed food supply. Enuj
Ra bided his time. Ten cycles of
fruitful food production must go by,
the multiplying mouths fed by the
new abundance must grow into man-
hood. Enuj Ra waited, and at the
proper time, dominance was assured
because all the races of the five
planets must have the food that Node
produced. Then Enuj Ra again shut
off the power of the fire-globes, and
announced that unless a treaty ac-
cepted and favorable to all of the
five planets was agreed upon by the
giant blacks of Gran Jac— there
would be no more food from Node.
Thus our great forebear brought
about the existance of the Triple
Crown, based upon the possession of
the food supply by Node, and since
that day no military action has been

taken without the signature of the
regnant Dom of Node. . ."

The pld man sighed, put up the
worn volume. He took up the Triple
Crown from where it blazed green
and gold upon a pillow of scarlet, and
set it on his greying head. He took up
the gold crook, set with the sign of
the Teyna, the ancient bird of war of
Node. He muttered:

**Now must I tell them that the day
of peace is past, and our hold upon
the life-line, the bread and fruit of
the five planets — is broken and gone,
and again the men of Node must ac-
cept the slave collars of the men of
Gran Jac."

He stood for a time, gazing into a
gaping burnt place in the solid stone
of the wall. Short nads ago, one turn-
ing of Gran Jac upon its axis— that
hole had been a door of ancient im-
permeable metal, inviolate, shielding
with its unsolvable locking dials the
formulas of the Fire Globe, just as
they had been placed there by the
dying Enuj Ra.

**Which of those I have welcomed
here, could it have been?** muttered
the Dom, touching the ragged frag-
ments of burnt metal and splintered
rock. *'There were but four knew
what it contained. My two sons, Reb
Ra and Naj Ra, they are on Gran Jac,
at the training schools. That leaves
two— The Green Star and the Green
Wing of the Dal. Brother and sister-
heirs by blood— what advantage
would they win in possessing the se-
cret? Do they desire this crown so
much they would plunge the four les-
ser planets again into slavery to the
giant men? What could Gran Jac of-
fer them, greater than they have?

Some value beyond my thinking "

The old man moved on, to face his
followers.

WE DANCE FOR THE DOM

'T'HE VOICE of Vanue, saying in
that more than human warmth
that was hers above all others:

"Note that in the past there was
struggle and war, that the cause oi its
cessation has seemed to be a treaty
brought about by pressure on the
greatest need in life — food,

'*Yet, in truth, there must have been
in that earlier time another tide of
disintegrant force ions, and that
tide's ending coincided with events
tht brought about peace. That peace
has lasted until in the circling cur-
rents, the log serpent-tide of Dee
touches the five planets once again.
Now events and their reactions inter-
pret to their again distorted errant
mind patterns only to mean — war!'*

Mion nodded, '*Yes, the pattern is
directly opposite! If the cause of
their war was real and logical, it
would have been started by Enuj Ra's
denial of their right to the new power
and warmth — yet, contrarily, peace
resulted. Now, in this new advent of
the tide of Dee, the publicizing of
the formulas so that all the five
planets may enjoy the warmth of the
heat'^pheres, that seem to them cause
for new warfare springing up among
them. In reality, it should make for
peace, since it will reduce the pres-
sure of necessity and bring about
greater plenty for all of them if new
areas are brought into food produc-
tion,'*

"Thus is always the face of error,
illogic setting forth as logic, and
finding acceptance . . .**

Vanue's voice, when it ceased, left
always a poignant longing for yet an-
other and another sound of its beauty.

Mion's eyes and ears tore their at-
tention from the brief, intense delight
of Vam^e's self, from the ringing,
thrilling sound and dizzying sight oi
her too-great life. He bent again to
the thought cloud, where that other

world of color and light and life was
again displaying a new facet.

'T'HE GREEN WING, Queen of
■■■ the Tal, greatest of the clans of
the Nines, swept across the ball-room
on the arm of Verde Cire, the Genode
of all the Blades. The two Teyna
wings, dyed green, ancient symbol of
the leaders of the Tal, spread proud
and high above her nobly chiseled
head.

Unlike the races of the Nodes, her
skin was only faintly gold, and her
hair so pale a blue as to gleam like
silver — falling to her shoulders in me-
tallic waves, there caught in a net of
emeralds. Beneath the emerald mesh,
her pale shoulders glittered with a
fine dusting of metal powder. Her
high proud breasts thrust from a nest
of small green feathers, feathers that
sheathed the strong arches of her
hips and swept downward to end at
her feet in long fronds. A wide leath-
ern belt, worked over with the Dal
symbols of the trident crossed on a
blade set between the two v/ings,
circled her waist. Her feet were cased
in open-work gold leather sandals.
She danced with a sleepy indolent
grace, seeming to hold the tall Verde
stiff with awe and worship of her.

The lesser lights of the Blade or-
ganization danced too, seeming to
leave always a circle inviolate where
the Green Wing and their own ap-
pointed head, Verde Cire, danced as
alone upon the floor.

Or they clustered in small whis-
pering groups, their faces intent and
thoughtful, unmindful of the setting
for gayety. Thus it was not a ball, so
much as a necessary prelude to some-
thing far more important than danc-
ing — and some occupied their feet
with the dance, but only that time
might pass.

The musicians, nested in a great
couch slightly screened by the pale

AMAZING STORIES

fronda of the white fern, played
muted, soft melodies of love and mdo-
lencc, seeming to wait too, holding in
all exuberance, as if the occasion was
too funereal to let joy flow from the
long golden horns, or humming harp
to rise to triumph above human
thought, or drum to beat too loudly
and so distract the coming event with
unseemly noise.

The Dom, peering out from his
peep-hole behind the rostrum under
the white fern, felt the waiting and
the worry, knew that some word had
spread— that all there waited for
something like a death.

But the Enode had struck moments
ago, and the Dom stepped up to the
main dais and held up his hand.

The music ceased, the dancers stood
In their places, and silence fell.

Expectant, somehow grotesque and
faintly horrible silence.

All eyes centered on the withered,
weary, but still cunning-eyed and
quick-handed Dom. The eyes roved
from his goodly, gold chain draped
paunch to his wide stooped shoulders
and gloomy face— and then politely
looked elsewhere, waiting. Or ex-
amined the embroidery, rich on the
wide sleeves, or speculated on the
meaning of the cryptic symbols bor-
dering, his wide collar— and did not
look twice at his face.

'*My countrymen, you who have
been chosen from among the finest
of the young Nodes, trained and made
ready for long years for the tasks the
future might bring-My own brave
Blades, I have to tell you that the
greater task has come. The time is
NOW— our Fate is upon us!"

He stopped, and his little cunning
eyes swept here and there, looking for
effect, waiting for question, estimat-
ing, putting off... Then he pursed
his lips, bent forward, gripped the
Bides of the flat-topped rostrum, and

in a shrill whisper that broke in his
throat yet went on audibly :

"The ancient formula of the heat-
sphere has been raped from its shrine,
the power is gone from the race of
the Node!"

FOR MOMENTS the silence grew,
until no sound but slow tension
rising could be heard. A slow increas-
ing rustle, as of wind, of breath
caught and slowly released against the
will, grew until the swift whispering
murmurs broke forth, then the Dom
raised his narrow red hand again.

"The task you have been trained
for is now upon you! Recover the
secret before all power is gone from
the Node, before once again our race
is in thrall to a greater, made to
serve and to slave and to be— never
free again!"

The Dom now turned his eyes upon
the Green Wing, where she stood
close before the rostrum, where he
had purposely halted the dance that
she would be caught there before him.
"Only two beside myself upon all
our globe knew where the plates of
the secret formula were kept. Those
two were the Green Wing and the
Green Star of the Tal Clan !"

The old man stepped back, deliv-
ered of his shaft, to watch the effect.
As if propelled by a spring, the
Green Wing swirled feather light to
the rostrum, sprang upon the dais be-
hind, faced the startled, accusing faces
of the Blades.

"Your old Dom does not know of
what he speaks. Think you Gran Jac
has waited without effort all these
long nads, waited for lifetimes— with-
out sending even one hireling spy to
seek out our secret? Nay, it is no time
to turn accusing our friends, to set
our own blood against blood. Time
instead to test the temper of our
Blades in action!"
The Wing paused, gazed for an in-

WE DANCE FOR THE DOM

stant at the old Dom as if weighing
his utter worthlessness — then went
on. Meloa, entering from the dark-
ness heard her, and marveled at her
manner, for she suspected very
strongly she was behind the Felarnese
activity, felt that she was plotting
treason against them all . . . yet one
would think she herself was the very
heart-blood of loyalty and honor.

"We must use our strength now, to
make our future more secure than
any hidden paper and old man's poli-
tical manouevering ever made it se-
cure. Enuj Ra could well have been
the death of every soul on Node
when he denied the formulas to the
Blacks of Gran Jac! But we were
lucky, and they were condescending
and lenient, let us have our way. They
gave us our chance, and it is not dead
because some thief in the night broke
an ancient safe-box ! We are alive and
free, let us make the most of it, swiit
and sure welding all the clans, all
our might — into one strong weapon,
picking out the joint in the armor of
our rising adversity and striking deep
to the heart, now! Before the thought
of our fall becomes reality, and our
own fears make us slave !'*

Her high, keen thrilling voice fell
from very effort to a husky, throaty,
persuasiveness as she went on:

"Listen to the Dom, bow down to
the Triple Crown, and fail to take
the immediate action necessary. All
will then be lost, as Your Dom ex-
pects already. It is no time to listen
to words of defeat and fright and in-
decision! It is no time to turn the
Blades against the Tal, we are one
blood. We are knit by ties too great
to sunder with one word of accusa-
tion!'*

Meloa, shoving forward, shouted
clear above the rising tumult :

"Let the Dom speak, let us hear
first his purpose. No treason without
cause !"

'T'HE DOM, feeling impotent and a
•*- little ridiculous, and sure that his
suspicion of the Wing and the Tal
was the result of an aging brain,
stepped forward close beside the
quivering, angrily trembling gown of
green feathers. As the silence fell,
he spoke, his eyes upon the flushed
lovely face of his cousin.

"What could the Gran Jac offer
the Tal that we can not offer?
— That was my thought when suspi-
cion in my old mind turned to the
Green Wing and her brother, the
Star of the Tal. Do they want the
Triple Crown enough to barter the
freedom of us all for the bauble?"

The old man eyed the Green Wing,
and the still mass of faces, his eyes
holding an infinite depth, a strange
sensation of hidden nobility of pur-
pose passed from him to each one.

"Even if that is true, there is a so-
lution! I do not think it is true, and
from this day it must never be con-
sidered true by any of us. Wheth-
er her brother or herself has had a
hand in this thievery I very much
doubt — they would not be here. But,
that there may be nothing dear to
them with-held by us, that they may
be bound to us indisolubly— their own
fate linked inextricably to our own-
in full appreciation of their value to
all of us as the leaders they unques-
tionably are— to hold them forever
firm in their intelligence I give what
is most precious to myself and I hope
to all here tonight. The Triple
Crown!'*

So saying, hardly knowing how or
why he did this deed, but feeling that
he was utterly unprepared to meet
the crisis, the old man lifted the
green-gemmed triple ring of gleam-
ing gold from his head, and with
every grace in the motion, set it upon
the blue-silver hair of the Green
Wing! It rested there above her as-

AMAZING STORIES

tounded face as if wholly made for
her — and a deep sigh went up from
all present — a sigh of strange and
mingled emotions.

**I am an old man, cousin. You are
young and brilliant, your abilities
have been demonstrated over and
over. Men will follov/ and obey you
without question. I have long thought
upon this act, and now the act is
forced upon me, if the good of all is
to be served. Rule for that ideal, the
good of all, even as Enuj Ra worked
and ruled — and avert this coming
blood-shed!"

The Green Wing, her voice low
and bemused with effort to under-
stand the reasons behind the act, mur-
mured :

"My brother, and your two sons,
all set aside — in my favor? Why?
Why, Naja Ra, do you do this thing
to yourself and to the rightful heirs?'*

"Because tonight, if ever it was in
my life, my vision is clear and my
thought uncorrupted. You are the life
shaped to the need that arises before
us. Later when the trouble is past and
forgotten, then can the rightful pos-
session be discussed at law, until all
are weary enough of the problem to
accept the judgment. Just now, we
need your vital accurate thought,
your instant decision, action directed
completely toward the heart of the
trouble. I have made my own action
in that direction, for I myself have
been the unwitting cause of some dis-
sension among us. You can draw the
clans into one, draw the Nodes to the
Nines, and lash them into action be-
side the Tal. Court the favor of the
Felarnese, and spend hours making
jokes with the Genpoint of the Gran
Jac legions. Be a Monarch, toy with
these war-mongering sons of perdi-
ton, and so doing weld the five worlds
again into one !"

CHAPTER III

jl^ELOA T left the Three Towered
•^ Dome with strange emotions and
angers mingling, fit to choke her.
How could that young too-beautiful
minx hope to hold the reins of the
Blades, the fierce Tal clans, the con-
flicting groups of both the Nines and
the Nodes, and still court the Felar-
nese from their ancient and now again
active enmity? The old Dom, whom
she understood and loved, must have
lost his wits, been distracted by her
beauty and vitality, been childishly
influenced by an old man's whim.

But she had her mission, and her
loyality was to the Triple Crown,
whoever wore it. If the Dom thought
the Green Wing capable, and it meant
the death or defeat of them all —
there was nothing she could do about
it now.

Outside the warm air of the dome,
the soft night of Node closed down
chill, the warmth of the floating heat-
spheres was shut down to minimum,
the temperature fallen to below com-
fort. The leaves of the pale trees were
folded like buds against the cold. The
tame cats of Node wailed among the
trees, mating and fighting and sound-
ing like ghouls arguing over a corpse.

Meloa shivered, sped along to tlie
speedy Blade guard-ship that was her
personal charge now— with Kal Harn
sick to death in the medical dome.

About her slim waist was now a
strong band of plain leather, and in
the scabbard close riveted to the belt
hung a flame-blade, incongruous in
its grim efficient deadliness against
her soft curved thigh. War hung
above them all, and the day when
weapons were forgotten or ignored
was gone.

All that practice the Blades had
regarded as play without ever expect-
ing any genuine need— now Meloa

WE DANCE FOR THE DOM

knew it had not been play, but needed
preparation for disaster.

The ship lifted, swung in a short
arc, blasted close beneath a softly
glowing heat globe, powered with the
same mysterious, self-fueling, ex-
haustless mystery of science as the
flame-blade against her waist. This
was the Blades one great advantage—
they had the flame blade, and no
sword ever built could stand against
the steel-melting flame the old Enuj
Ra had given their race against all
others.

Even the Nines and the Tal had not
the flame-blades. Idly Meloa won-
dered what would be done about that
if they allied against— perhaps the
giants of Gran Jac themselves could
not face the flame-blades. It was not
yet known, they had never been used
in a major conflict.

The old Dom had killed any possi-
bility of war between the Tal and the
Nodes. Remained the Nines, the Fel-
arnese and the terrific strength of the
giant Gran Jac race of blacks. With
the Tal and the Nodes v/elded by the
Green Wings double identity as he-
reditary Queen of the Tal, and as
selected Dom of the Nodes-would
they act now concertedly to oppose
them before they grew yet greater?

The ship burned across the cold sky
toward the giant dull sheen of the
Gran Jac. 'Meloa to Gran Jac, to the
Temple itself and learn there, what
was intended and what was prophe-
cied' were her orders.

She settled softly, jets silent, be-
tween the tv/o great bulks of Mt
Malor and Mt. Rak. Left her ship in
the ever-shadow of a crevice. Crept
across the ragged rock face to level
going— swung in a long stride to-
ward the great dome of the old City
of the Temple of the Way.

^TRANGE religion, these giants,
mused Meloa. Believed that a

body had a soul and the souls went to
a grey place of mists after death!
That a grey King ruled there, still
and all-knowing, among the drifting
shades of his subjects. His Queen was
supposed to be black as a carbon
electrode, and to sit motionless be-
side him— forever. Both alive only in
the mind, the Palace of their Thought
where they welcomed the souls of
the dead!

Within the ancient, weathered face
of the Temple within the Dome, was
a hole in the great natural rock over
which the temple had been built long
ago. This hole was said to be the only
existant portal to the Land of Death
from the Land of Life.

And the only exit from the Land
of Death !

Once each Dan, thirty cycles apait
—a being came from the black hole
and told them of the future of the
black race of Gran Jac. And returned
again to the Land of the Dead.

Meloa shrugged, smiling a little at
the giant's belief in anything so ridi-
culous and gloomy.

But the giant race invariably ful-
filled the prophecy. Whether by coin-
cidence or because of belief causing
implicit carrying out of the prophecy
as an order— one could pretty well
gauge the future activity'of the Gran
Jec giants by listening with care to
the oracle of the Temple of the Gate-
way.

Meloa meant to hear it, and it re-
turned again in two nads,_time left
now only to get there and make a way
within the Temple, with luck. She
must not miss the oracle, or the Gran
Jacs might act before the new Dom
learned of Its import.

If the oracle said war, war it would
be, whether they had enemies to fight
or had to attack some friend. It was
only recent times the Oracle had
prophecied peace. Since Enuj Rahad
stymied them and made the priests

AMAZING STORIES

of the Temple see the light behind the
Heat-spheres, Meloa reasoned.

She eased up to the ten foot round
of the corroded metal of the air-lock.
Nervously she fingered her helmet
lugs, she wanted to get it off and
grin at the big nine-foot black guard
she knew waited inside. He could be
a trouble, or he could be friendly and
ignoring of formalities. There was no
time for checking of credentials,
though she had them all in order.

With a vast hiss of air, the big
round twisted sidewards, she slipped
through the widening slot quickly,
tugged off the lugs, threw back her
already steaming helmet. She smiled
her best smile at the wide, sullenly in-
scrutable face of the giant, and after a
second, the infectious gayety of her
youth struck home, and he grinned.
The huge teeth of him startled Meloa,
she had not been on Gran Jac for near
a dan. Fierce, homely people, they
were good hearted enough ordinarily,
but terrible in anger.

"Here for the opening of the

Way?" ,

"Aye, big one, I must see the path
I will tread when I get as homely as
you, and die for shame of it!" Meloa
purred the jest and taunt in her best
Gran Jac jargon, a tongue with little
in common with her own.

His smile disappeared for an in-
stant, then he saw that she meant the
impossible, for such a beauty was not
passing here every day.

"When you get as homely as my-
self, the world will have decayed
about us into mist, little butterfly. If
you must wait to that day, you will
never die."

"Perhaps I am the shade of some
dead woman, returning to enter along
the way when it opens for the sooth
of the Day of Truth."

His face sobered again, and he
looked at her closely, and over his
shoulder fearfully.

"Do not jest, little Blade, the ears
of the men who serve the way are
never closed. You are no shade, but
flesh and blood. Get on with you, and
on your return, tell me of the word.

MELOA pushed open the inner
door, sliding it silently in its
ancient worn grooves, her heart beat-
ing thanks that no Ware orders had
gone out. Evidently the big race had
taken the rumours of trouble as froth
and nonsense, or had already the
secret firmly in their hands and
feared no event.

Along the wide, gloomy streets she
padded rapidly, avoiding contact with
the great-bodied natives. Her cloak
hid the flame-blade as it had hid it
from the guard, but a touch would
reveal it. Not that it wasn't legal, as
their agreements went. But not tonad,
of all nads, would one wear weapon
but for fear of ones deed finding one

out.

Into the vast doorway of the Tem-
ple of the Portal of Death. Past the
gloomy swathed forms of the stone
"watchers", past the gigantic mount-
ed figure of the First Warrior King.
Under the Arch of the Tortured Cap-
tives, their writhing forms of stone
wreathing up and around in one sym-
phony of sculptured pain and ugly
triumph. Along the Corridor of Si-
lence, where the little green-lit wall
niches held the Nee candles, burning
with sweet fragrance, and the tiny
witched images of the lost Elves.

Then she was around the two tall
armed guardians of the portal of the
Chamber of the Way, and among the
silent gigantic figures of the waiting
black worshippers. Eagerly she
slipped forward past the columnar
legs, making her way almost to the
throne where the Genpoint himself
waited on his throne of black ada-
mant, set with blood rubys in the an-
cient skull pattern of the Gens alone.

WE DANCE FOR THE DOM

The throne faced the thirty foot
ragged rock opening where the empty
round well slanted steeply from the
rugged slope of natural rock against
which the temple bad been erected.

The Opening of the Way was al-
most due, she had cut the time shorter
than she intended. The blackness of
the depths of the pit within the
jagged round of the cave mouth was
already adrift with subtle grey
streamers of mist — which always pre-
ceded the approach of the Ghost from
the world of beyond.

The awe and the conveyed implicit
belief of these giant people in their
cavern ghost struck through the ar-
mor of unbelief shielding Meloa from
fear of the coming spirit, and for a
moment she was sure she was wrong.
Sure that a living ghost from the
land of the dead was really about to
appear !

The drifting mist began to circle
slowly, centering in a kind of grey
whirlpool, and the funneling center of
the whirl deeped to a long tunnel, a
tunnel suggesting infinite depth, and
as subtle and no less infinite, a
sinister peril.

Far, far off a figure appeared,
visible only through the center of the
web of mist — and the figure grew
swiftly as if rushing like the wind
from distances too vast for mortal
mind to grasp.

Meloa wondered if it were not
mirror tricks by those who held the
giant race in thrall to their wits?
Wondered, too, fearfully and simply
if this were not the truth— a visita-
tion from the world beyond all death !

QUITE suddenly the web of mist
was blasted as by terrific power,
swept invisibly aside, and standing
there at the center of the rugged cir-
cle of age-worn rock facets was a tall,
thin-robed greyness.
The bone-thing face was grey of

skin, the long too articulatti hands
were surely only grey bones. . .

Woman or man, Meloa couldn't
know surely. Only that it was death,
incarnate, terrible, she shuddered
away from her first view of the Open-
ing of the Way!

The fear of the awful reality of
death and life-beyond-death yet more
horrible than death itself struck into
Meloa's young mind. She tottered as
any girl might do, fell suddenly into
the dark vortice of unconsciousness —
a fainting spell which all her train-
ing and hardening and experienced
will jcould not fight off.

What happened then she did not
see or know, but it was not good.

As her falling body struck the
rough grey stone of the floor, her
cape fell aside, and even as her flame-
blade was revealed to the startled,
back-pushing giants near her— the
twisting handle released the terrible
power of the pale flame !

The flame lanced out in a long
deadly path of terrific heat. The
force shield of the handle coils pro-
tected Meloa's body. But it did not
protect the feet of the giants beside
her, and they leaped and screamed and
bellowed as the flame reached among
them, moving in an arc of twenty feet
at the tip of the lance of fire as
Meloa's body settled and rolled over.

Then both fallen girl and burning
blade lay therp, eclipsing entirely the
gloomy glory of the grey shade from
beyond the edge of life.

As that blade burned ; burned there
in the Temple where no weapon was
ever allowed to be borne, and upon
the body of an alien and a guest of
trust— the anger of the giant Gen-
point on his throne was terrible to
see.

His voice did not dare to speak out
his anger, for it was tim^ and more
for the words of the sacred oracle
standing there about to speak !

AMAZING STORIES

But his anger could find vent, a
vent acceptable to the Lord of Death-
land himself I

The Genpoint got to his feet, gigan-
tic even among those giants, a ten
footer of incredible musculature
among even this race adjusted to a
life upon a dense and large planet.

Fiercely, silently, moving with the
burning force of rage — his violated
sanctuary and his insulted emissary
from the Grey Land of Death watch-
ing him — he bent, shut off the flame,
picked up the body of the uncon-
scious girl. As his assembled people
gasped he bore the slight drooping
figure to the very mouth of the dread
cavern. There he lay her at the feet
of the waiting agent of death and
bowed to the very floor, asking par-
don with the ancient gestures that
are used where no man dare speak.

Silence, filled with the sense of
justice swift and entire. The tall thin
greyness began then to speak, the
terrific meaning of the ancient words
from the back of time rolled out over
the Chamber of the Way into Death.

Softly the stylus of the Genpoint
glided over his waxed pad, as he not-
ed down each character spoken out by
the oracle.

The v/ords ended, the grey thin
terrible death-in-life stooped, plucked
up the small self of Meloa T, down
swirled the grey mist of time and
space and swift distance. The grey
figure receded down the tunnel of
grey impossible mist and Meloa was
gone upon the journey into the land
of the dead.

CHAPTER FOUR

nPHE GREEN Wing smiled as she
•*• stood to greet the Genpoint of all
Gran Jac. Himself honoring her with
this visit to learn the truth about all
the rumours of war — as well as to
explain the incident which had caused

the sending of a member of the
Blades to the Land of the Unliving.

Skillfully she led the talk, parry-
ing his questions even while getting
answers to her own probing as to the
plans of the Council of Gran Jac. Of
his inability to handle her the great
black warrior was soon well aware,
his broad ugly face dewed with the
moisture of effort, his eyes holding
on hers like a great beast fascinated
by the antics of some bright plumaged
bird.

\7ANUE'S voice came to Mion
^ faintly, explaining, **Note that
immediately behind the head of the
serpent tide the space dust thins and
almost there is none. Note that the
portion of the tide of the dis flow
passing the five planets now is this
same tenuous portion, and that the
thin-n,ess of the tide of dis coincides
with the suddenly repaired pattern of
their life. The Dom of Node gene-
rously gave his crown to the person
best fitted to receive it, she bends
every effort to unite the dissident
nations into one peaceful state, aband-
oning meanwhile her ill-conceived,
and treacherous plot to ally the Tal
clans with the Felarnese, and the gi-
ants of Gran Jac send a peaceful
emissary, their own official leader
appointed by their council — to the
Nodes, to learn if they can avert war."

'7 observe the coincidence of the
subsidence of the dis-tide with the
subsidence of the war-like activity,'*
answered Mion,

"Note that the thicker body of the
serpent tide moves closer to the five
planets inexorably. Watch how their
passions and events answer the
growth of the oncoming flow. Soon
. they will be swallowed up in the
body of the serpent, their true
thought obscured will launch them
into wars they will be unable to rea-
son out a way to avoid. It is inevitable

WE DANCE FOR THE DOM

that untrained minds should suc-
cumb to such unseen influences,"

Vanue turned and touched the now
sleeping Firko with a caressing fin-
gertip. He did not awaken, but only
smiled and murmured her name, slid-
ing lower on the couch. She pillowed
his head against her arm, and turned
the thought spool to a faster tempo.

The deadly wide body of the ser-
pent flow of disintegrant dust moved
now swiftly, swallowing up the five
planets into the thickness of its body.

''What is this Land of the Dead
into which poor Meloa was taken?*'
asked Mion.

"You will see there a strange pair
indeed. They are abandoned children
of the past, their inherited science
enough to keep life in them — not
enough to keep off other effects of
De such as you already know about.
One of them has become a wholly evil
form of degenerate parasitism, the
other a passive despairing passenger
upon the will of Fate, moving no
finger to halt the course of events.
Observe them closely, for one day
you will find within your own body
the effects of unobserved quantities
of dis, and that day you will know
better than to choose flight and iso-
lation, as this pair did,*'

Vanue softly turned up the ampli-
fication, and Mion slipped again into
the unconscious state of complete
absorption in the course of events.

nrHE GENPOINT of all Gran
•*" Jac strode purposefully through
the great portal of the three towered
Palace of the Dom of Node. In his
hand he held an ultimatum received
from the Council of the Planet he
represented, and his face was grim,
though his heart misgave him. He
read it through to the Green Wing
once, then tucked it away in his
breast.
The Green Wing waved away th«

three officers of the Blades with
whom she had been conferring be-
fore his arrival. They had reported to
her on the ineffectual effort to re-
cover or learn the whereabouts of
the' secret of the heat-spheres.

She stood stiffly, hardly nodding
to the giant Genpoint, for she knew
the council was under his thumb and
this his doing. She could read on his
face as he read that this was his de-
cision after his long talks with her,
and anger flamed within her that all
her effort to reconcile him had gone
for nothing. She listened with scant
attention as he read, her face stony,
her eyes moving everywhere but to
his face, again.

Now the play-talk of the past days
was over. She guessed that he had
carried this paper just as it was now
in his bosom when he first came — had
now decided to deliver it to her oral-

ly-

His words fell gloomy and with a
dull finality upon her, echoing over
and over in her mind as if written
there forever:

"To the most Honorable Dom,
Green Wing of the Tal, Queen of all
the Nodes. It is requested that your
people must agree to turn over the
formulas for the warming fire-globes
without more delay. If you refuse,
action will be taken by the warrior
chiefs of the Gran Jac. Too long have
we humored your people while this
needed thing was withheld, no more
can we suffer this evil."

There was more, formal signatures,
directions as to how the formulas
were to be delivered —

When he had finished, tucked it
loosely into his uniform jacket, the
Green Wing held out her hand, he
strode with one great step to her
dais, laid it in her hand. She said :

'There is no need for this! You
must know we cannot turn over to you
what we no longer possess. Why don't

AMAZING STORIES

you help us search for them, if you
do not already have them?"

The Genpoint recoiled that full
stride in surprise. Anger and com-
plete distrust of her strove to cover
his face, he put them aside visibly.

"I had decided that the theft of the
formulas was but a rumour, when your
worship did not speak of it to me. I
cannot understand that they are not
in your possession. How could it
have occurred here at the center of
the Blade's watchfulness?"

The Green Wing eyed him coldly.
He did not express contrition for
nearly calling her a liar. He only
stood, awaiting the answer to the
ultimatum from the powers he served,
and sometimes ruled.

With an effort she controlled her
anger, smiled slowly and gestured
with her hand.

"If we cannot give you the secret
of the spheres of heat, how then can
we avoid war, my noble ambassador?"

**It would not be a war, small one !
It would be too bad, that is all !"

"Already you slip into the uncouth
ways of the warrior, insulting me,
calling me a liar and 'small one' — and
you expect an honorable answer to a
message such as you bear me. What
do you really expect — treatment of
your person that will serve as cause
for war? The thing has been stolen
from us, come, I'll show you the
vaults."

As they stood within the ancient
lair of the Doms of old, before the
blasted vault doors — the Genpoint
gave her answer:

"If ever the warriors of Gran Jac
learn that this has been contrived to
make fools of us — that day you can
expect attack. Until then, I will hold
the dogs of war in leash."

He stalked out, and the Green Wing
sighed with vast relief. She had ex-
pected the worst

\TANUE murmured to Mion:
^ "Note here how great events
are controlled by un-noticed influence
es. // they had remained above the
surface of the earth, the flow of mag-
netic evil force full about their minds^
they would have parted in complete
anger and discord. But they left the
surface, descended here below the
rocks where much of the incoming
magnetism is obstructed and neutra-
lized by the still unimpregnated rocks
above the chambers of the Dom — and
their anger cooled, the Genpoint de-
parted without deciding upon war/'

"/ note the incident, and the rea-
son for it" answered Mion, **It was
not the burst vault alone/*

CHAPTER FIVE

/CONCATENATION of terrifying
^^ silent noise; swift, vibrant mo-
tion of rushing forces soundlessly
pressing on and on, A terrible emo-
tion-racking sensation of death from
the thing that bore her. . .

Meloa awoke to find herself frozen
in the weird embrace of that which
could not be, but was. Frozen, mo-
tionless-in-motion, still yet with
swift on-sweeping silence that was
ear-racking with a pressure that
should have been sound and was not !
Fear an icy torrent of crawling cold
in the bowels, on her back, up her
neck — she shrieked once, and stopped
—she could not hear the sound !

On went the thing, and poor Meloa
held her breath, closed her eyes, and
after a time, fell mercifully again
into another faint.

"D ACK upon the worried little world
^ of Node, young Kal Harn came
in a short time to the point of inevi-
table death — as did all who showed
the angry red marks of the plague.
He fought back the darkness, crying

WE DANCE FOR THE DOM

out for his sweet Meloa T, weakly—
•*Meloa, come now, where have you
gone when I need you most?"

And the slim young nurse-maid
pressed his hot body back against the
pillows, in desperation telling him:
**Your Meloa has already been given
to the Grey Prophet of the Way of
Death by the Genpoint of Gran Jac.
There is no use your crying for her—
she will never come again!"

Cruel it was to tell him, but she was
driven beyond caring by the many
duties for so many stricken by the
rapidly spreading plague.

Poor Kal weakened swiftly after
that, and knew there was no use nor
much sense in wanting to live anyway.
But before he died he exacted a prom-
ise that he, too, would be laid before
the Opening of the Way of Death.

It was done, even as he asked of
them. Permission was gained of the
priests of the Temple, his body was
lain where before only the great black
carcases of their own race had beer
placed— and the lean grey figure came
and bore him down the tunnel of fun-
neling mist.

MELOA T, when she came to her
mind again, found herself lying
upon a pale grey bank of moss, and
waiting nearby a tall woman, clad in
black.

Upon her shoulder sat a great red
tird. Of the sky beyond was nothing
but a slow whirl of mist, and some-
times glowing ragged rocks showing
through the grey mist.

The tall woman stroked her bird,
and presently said: "Greetings, little
stranger from life. Are there many so
attractive as yourself above?"

The bird glared down disapproving-
ly upon Meloa's distraught face, and
squalked one loud sound of complete
disgust.

**Are you a friend?" asked Meloa.
*ln this place I did not expect fricrt^d-

ship. What am I to expect here, and
how came I to be sent here?"

The woman smiled gloomily ; wear-
ily, yet she smiled. "A friend, yes.
Expect? You can expect to under-
stand nothing here for a long time —
and when you do understand, it is
not good."

''Are you dead? Am I dead?" asked
Meloa.

"This is not so dead a land as you
might think, little stranger. It is a
land of deep and ancient magic, long
turned evil, yes. But of death we have
only a little out in the open. Most of
it is stored away, waiting its use."

The woman's voice was v«ry

strange and different to Meloa's ears,

who had never met before a human

who had been gifted with innumerable

years of life. Warm, yet impersonal,

slow and rich with much knowing,

one wished for that voice after it

ceased. Meloa's eyes sought her face

when she spoke, to look for the

beauty the voice expressed upon the

strange, almost cynically weary face.

But the eyes of her always remained

veiled and distant, not looking into

Meloa's. Sad eyes, waiting, too full

of some past pain, like a memory

that would not go away.

**Who are you?" Meloa sometimes
asked, awed by some sudden revela-
tion of inhuman wisdom or by her
statuesque height, her solemn, dis-
tant bearing.

"Names do not matter here, any
more, little Meloa. I am one who was
here before it became what is now
the Land of Death. The changes
passed me by, inflicting only pain
and not destruction of my self— I

hope."

''Can I stay with you? Till I get

used to it, anyway?"

"If you only knew how glad I am
that your bright youth has come to
me before death touched you!"

"Are you dead? You can't be dead!

AMAZING STORIES

Oh, say it isn't true!"

"You are overwrought, Meloa. Of
course I'm not dead, though I have
often wished to be so. You will under-
stand by and by."

Time went by for Meloa, and she
could not understand this place or
this woman or what possible pur-
pose had been served by her own
sending into this strange v/orld. And
the woman only smiled when she
asked, and told her it was better not
to know, for a time.

Then one day, sadly the woman
came toward her where she sat by
the grey moss-tree where the little
pool tinkled from the streams fall.
And behind her walked-^Kal Harn.
Meloa gave a glad cry and flung
herself into Kal's arms.

But his arms did not enwrap her
in sweet remembering love. He stood
like a block of wood !

She raised her face to his, looked
into his...cfeaJ eyes! Then she
screamed, and screamed again. She
ran weeping back into the cave of her
tall mysterious friend.
. After a moment the dead, walking
body of Kal followed the tall woman
into the cave after Meloa.

"It is time now to tell you of this
place, and why the dead walk," said
the tall woman. Her voice drew Meloa
from her shocked state, she listened
with wide, tear-wet eyes.

ff CO IT IS that only the Queen
can give life back to your
lover," concluded the tall woman. For
all the dead who are taken in here
are the servants, the stored weapons
of the Lord of this world, which he
keeps with his knowledge of life in
a kind of half-life. He can use them
if he ever has to do so, to fight an
invading army. But time has done
things to him, he is no longer even
remotely human. His Queen, she Is

of a different stripe. Ask— she knows
the way of release. But I have never
heard of her defying the Lord and re-
leasing any of his subjects,"

**YoJi go to them, you know how
to deal with beings such as these. I
feel completely helpless."

The woman smiled a rather terrible
smile, grim and deep and toothy with
a time-worn anger in it.

"I am not allowed to enter their
halls, Meloa. They know I would kill
them if chance offered. You they
would not fear, for you could not."

"You mean, they rule, and leave
you freedom, knowing you are an
enemy?"

"That is but a way of tormenting
me, so that I live always for an op-
portunity that they are sure never
will come to me. Hate is not good to
live with, and they know... But our
ancient feud has nothing to do with
you. Go, you might have luck."

TT SAT in gloomy splendor, still,
motionless as death itself, in a
quiet chill of utterly alien power. The
place where IT sat was reminiscent
of a King behind the chess pieces.
There were no pieces before- the
deathless King, though the impres-
sion of will-less servitors waiting the
quiet vast will of IT from the grey
throne was inescapable.

Meloa shuddered, and waited, too.
So this was the Grey Lord, who had
held the race of giants of Gran Jac
under a spell of fear for centuries —
still living! // it was life that moved
within the cold grey eyes.

The floor of the vast and dismal
place bore out the impression of
chess. Great squares of black alter-
nated with squares of crimson, wait-
ing for some drama that Meloa felt
would be to the mind behind those
terrible eyes no more important real-
ly, than any game of real chess

WE DANCE FOR THE DOM

would be to a mere man. Nor to him
to be thought of differently than a
game.

Beside him, the still, death-like
face of the Queen was a black graven
mask. Apparently carved of stone,
only her eyes lit with a strange blue
fire, burning down upon Meloa. Of
what race this black-fleshed Queen?
With her glowing dark skin like pol-
ished ebony, the chiseled, alien fea-
tures expressionless of all but utter
weariness and waiting— for what,
Meloa wondered ?

Beauty she had, a still beauty as if
herself was of chaste metal. Deli-
cate, yet utterly hard of expression.
Lovely, yet cold with some deadly
inner cold. Fragile, yet strong of in-
ner intense hardness. Frighteningly
motionless, as if she herself was but
a statue set there to stare forever at
nothing.

Yet no artist ever carved such time-
less repudiation of lifers worthless
values upon any face. No living artist
shaped those nude ebony limbs into
exquisite form and polished perfec-
tion. Nothing could have formed her
but the ages of development behind
some ancient alien race forgotten now
by all the surface life of Gran Jac.
There was an alien and utter perfec-
tion in every line of her.

Ageless, yet frozen by a weight of
time and some realization of the futili-
ty of movement toward known useless
goals. Lovely with a delicate chiseled
beauty. Cruel, with thin lips drawn
about with a harsh and angry line
that yet seemed to have an infinite
patience and a great wisdom within
her softening the seeming cruel face
into — a terrible beauty.

TPHE GREY inhuman man-shaped
thing beside her moved, then, aft-
er so very long that Meloa was sure
she had mistaken two statues for liv-

ing beings. Crossed one long sinewed
leg encased in gleaming grey silk
hose upon one in shining black hose
— and motioned Meloa closer.

The blue deep eye-fire in the dark
eyes of the still Queen flickered
angrily as Meloa moved closer. It
was not a good feeling for Meloa,
standing there. But it was weirdly,'
terribly pleasant. Some fire of alien,
ancient desire from worlds long past
—worlds once filled with terrific,
immortal lusts— from some world not
human that birthed these creatures
long ago, came invisibly from IT like
the touch of desiring hands upon her
body and those hands not man's
hands but the eery touch of an an-
cient, hoary ghost who yet lived on
in undying animal strength.

She knew this was the mind of the
Grey one searching her, touching her
with some intense tactile sensing of
the mind. As she stood before the
two of them this uniien yet quite real
and felt violation of her body went
on, mounting in intensity even as the
eye-fire of the dark Queen mounted
in anger.

Some vampirish power of the Grey
Lord seemed drinking at her young
strength! Voluptuously draining her
with some space-negating tentacle,
absorbing her as if his mouth were
at her throat, and her life-blood flow-
ing sweetly out and into him.

Weakening, sickening rapidly,
Meloa put one hand to her brow,
reached for some slipport with the
other. As invisibly as it had come the
draining power left her, and as if by
way of reward a sudden ecstasy
flowed through her. A new and dif-
ferent strengthening mounted with-
ing her, and as suddenly her anger
flashed out at this violation and a
terrible realization of the slave-thing
she must become to this undying
monster upon his throne unless she
found a way of resistance where

AMAZING STORIES

none seemed possible.

Now Meloa did not voice her con-
suming anger, but moved to stand
silently before the Queen, and their
two minds met invisibly there before
the Grey Lord in a communion
from which he was excluded.

From that communion of two fe-
male minds the black Queen turned
again to the Grey one, and gazed on
him with a steady, penetrating, meas-
uring look.

Scornful her voice, breaking the
heavy silence that had so far re-
mained unbroken since Meloa en-
tered.

"I have sat for too long! How many
life-times of mortals I have let you
go your way, because now since the
change that stranded us here, nothing
mattered. But now you have over-
stepped your bounds. This girl is
not the ordinary vegetable to whose
fate I could reconcile my ancient love
of her kind. I can not cynically turn
away my face and feel nothing in my
heart. You cannot have her, Sakum,
you cannot have her or any like her!
It is time you learned to live without
such sustenance. I place my protec-
tion over her, and you know what
that means!"

THE GREY long terrible face
looked at her astounded. The in-
credible fingers twitched for a sec-
ond in all their jointed length, un-
controllably. Something like fright, a
long buried fear suddenly unearthed,
came and went on the strange,
too-wise face. A strong face, yet
with an inner weakness as of some
long-gnawing sickness.

Then IT shrugged and its thought
came out and touched the mind of
Meloa briefly, she sensed the prob-
ing, asking, knew that her loathing
for the ancient creature was seen by

him.
•'Shall we play a game of our own

chess, my queen? It has been too
long since we measured our strengths.
This time your beauty will not again
sway me to mercy, perhaps?"

Meloa sensed the question the
Grey one put to the Queen, noted her
8v/ift angered acceptance. Marveled
at the still, unmoving icy calm v/hich
held such passions confined. How end-
lessly long had their hate of each
other been held on that leash of
time? It was not understandable,
these alien , terrible creatures could
possess and be moved by such ha-
tred and detestation each of the other,
yet sit there. Have sat there in Lord-
ship over this eerie world of theirs
in calm acceptance of each other for
many centuries? Meloa was at a loss
to understand what lay between them
to bind them so against their wills.
Evidently some ancient tie had to-
day come undone. Herself the cat-
alyst needed to cause the change, and
that too was hard to understand. A
game of chess— yet the Grey one did
not mean chess. He meant instead
some contest inexplicable as she
sensed the thought between them,
some terrific measuring of immortal
powers — beyond anyones comprehen-
sion but their own undying minds.

Meloa still stood, waiting for she
knew not what, while the two young-
old creatures of another time rose and
walked to opposite sides of the room.
There she noted two small cabin-
ets of opaque gleaming stuff, these
came out from the wall at a touch,
revealing seats inside. Like the driv-
ers seat of some strange vehicle, and
the dash of many complex instru-
ments before the seat.

Each took their places facing each
other across the black and red
squares of the floor. Even as they
touched here and there a control upon
the panel, the Queen spoke to Meloa

orally :
"I will release your loved youth,

WE DANCE FOR THE DOM

as you came to request, then you had
better leave here at once."

Mcloa stood watching them make
these preparations, listening to the
hum and pulse of new awakened pow-
er within the cabinets and beneath the
floor — and shortly in at the great
door came blindly stumbling the
mindless zombie that had been her
own Kal Harn.

The Grey One looked up, mut-
tered :

"Enter, my first piece, and you ex-
pect to take him from me in viola-
tion of our agreement!"

From his strange panel of control
of hidden power a force leaped out
visibly, like violet fire tenuous but
intense, touched Kal.

l^AL WHEELED and began to
leap across the squares toward
the black Queen. Quite as swiftly she
sent a beam of dull green force from
her panel out upon Kal, and he
stopped in his tracks. Gazed about
him wonderingly, turned to Meloa
with his eyes full of questions, and
full of new life.

"Meloa! Life again! I thought I
was dead, it was a very bad dream, I
have been sick — '* He came toward
her, arms out. Meloa v/ent into his
arms with a glad cry.

"Oh Kal, it has been so terrible.
The Grey One was going to..."

Some compulsion came to her then,
making her tell Kal the thing the
Grey One had done to her, and as she
realized she had said what she would
not, she started back, her hand to her
mouth.

For Kal was raging back across the
checkered floor, murder in his eyes.
She saw he meant to kill the Grey
One out of hand, with his bare fists.

But again the force beam flicked
out and touched him, and again he
became the mindless zombie he had

been when he entered.

Meloa herself now sprang across
the red and black squares, intent on
scratching out the things eyes that
had done this to her man. Quite sud-
denlv her own self vanished from
within her, and she knew no more.

Two zombies shambled from the
room, and the Grey Lord tittered as
they went, he had triumphed over
the Queen the first move. But the
zombies made no answer.

As they reached the edge of the
colored floor squares, a ray flicked
to them from the Black Queen,
touching each of them, and life came
into their minds and into their eyes,
and thev both fled after one look
back at the two who struggled.

In their minds a whisper went with
them, etched there in a permanent
intensity:

"Brin^r your Blades, and the
Queen will find work for their
swords!'*

Behind them they sensed those
two alien entities facing each other
over their crossed swords of weird
energv. and wondered, but ran on and
on. Meloa murmured, —

"So begins a game that can end
only in the death of one of them. And
they have lived as mates for endless
lifetimes of our time! They have
been to each other the staff and sol-
ace of an immortal existence, here in
the place they built within the bowels
of Gran Jac!"

Kal Harn grunted. Then he
grinned and answered: "They have
lived too long together. Seems in-
evitable."

^OW MELOA was leading the
* ^ way well known to her, toward
the weird tunnel of force which led

AMAZING STORIES

to the great chamber of the prophecy.
But how they, unknowing the meth-
od of travel along those whirling
walls that were not matter but some
stranee divorce of matter from its
inner energies; were to traverse the
tunnel was beyond her.

The tall woman, black-clad as
usual, with the great red bird on her
shoulder, was waiting where the
first misty greyness of the tunnel be-
gan. She smiled her too-knowing
smile.

"You knew we were coming here?
How?'* cried Meloa, embracing her
tightly for a second, then standing
back and waving a hahd to Kal to
show he was again himself and not
mindless.

"I have a faculty for knowing even
what is going to happen, little in-
nocent. Come, I will show you the
way, that your strong muscled lover
may bring down upon the Grey
Louse the doom he has earned so
many times over."

"Yes, we want to go and bring our
Blades here as the Queen asked us.''

"But you must stay, Meloa, else will
I not help you. Your lover will then
be sure to return with forces to set
you free. If you go with him it will
turn out that he will not return. I
help you only to turn the tables on
the being whom I detest above all
others."

Near to the great whirling funnel
that was the mouth of the way to
the upper world was a small stone
house. Here the tall woman made
them enter. She took from a closet
a cloak, a voluminous grey thing of
almost gauzy texture, yet so much
metallic weight to it as to .be the
heaviest garments Kal had ever worn.

"Put this on. As you step into the
funnel mouth do so very slowly. Your
body will adjust within the trans-
forming metal of the cloak so that

it can withstand the dissolving forces
that else would weaken you too grcat-
ly* Only thus may you hope to re-
turn."

"But how does it bear people both
ways?" asked Kal, watching the eery
twisting of the walls around and
around.

"It is not anything built by men
of today. It was put here by the
race of which the Queen is the lone
survivor, now. This cloak of metal
gauze is the key needed. You will
find the floor of the tunnel bears
you along, clutching with its mag-
netic force at the metal."

She opened a small panel set in
the wall. There were two levers, one
black, and one white.

"You see, it is in some ways a
simple magnetic vortice. It has: many
layers of force one over the other.
You know how electric force travels
in a wire, the current one direction,
the field another? This is the same,
by pulling one of these levers the
forces reverse their flow, the white is
the outward control. Kiss your wo-
man and get on your way! The two
who rule here will not remain at
each others throat forever."

Meloa watched Kal step into the
tunnel and glide swiftly upward out
of sight. Then she went back to the
stone house, where her eerie friend
stood brooding and stroking the
great scarlet bird on her shoulder. It
shrieked at Meloa and suddenly rose
on wide wings, flying off toward
the palace of the Grey Lord. Meloa
asked :

"Can you see the future tfuly? Tell
me, then, woman of strange knowl-
edge, will my man come back to me?
If you answer no, I will put on a
cloak and pursue him. I cannot live
without him more. I have learned
what it means.,." Meloa sobbed, and
the woman took her in her arms

WE DANCE FOR THE DOM

stroking her hair and crooning softly

ffVOU ARE overstrained, little
one. It was needful or I
would not have sent him away. Of
course he will return again. It was
that love for you I needed to make
sure he would bring his Blades. Noth-
ing is so sure to bring men on the
run as the thought of their women
in peril — even one alone like your-
self. It is infallible."

'*What ?.s this Grey thing on his
throne anyway? I cannot under-
stand, he seemed to drink my
strength from a distance, left me not
the same, but changed. I felt drained
of something. Then back into me
rushed something that was not my
own, yet strengthened me.'*

'*That thing is no longer human
flesh. He has changed, fighting the
years with the science that was left
by those who built this place. He
has never faced determined opposi-
tion, and his preparations will not be
enough to overcome well-trained and
intelligent warriors such as I know
your Nodes to be. They will do for
him, and I will be happier knowing
he is no longer able to work his will
on such as you."

"I feel so different, as if my inner
self v/as damaged. . ."

"You have been damaged, but you
are young enough, you will recover.
Heard you ever of the custom of bee-
keepers? They take the good honey
from the hive,' and put in its place
sweetened water so the- bees will not
starve. His body, after so long liv-
ing and the strange things he has
done with his life forces, has become
unable to create certain life forces.
But he has learned to absorb the
young life strength; and to keep
his 'bees' alive, he has learned to
feed them something much less
good."

CHAPTER FIVE

I^AL HARN stepped out of the
tunnel that was to the giant race
of Gran Jac the Way of Death. He
found the great chamber of the
prophecy deserted except for a few
gigantic warriors paying their devo-
tions. These fell to their knees at
sight of the strange elongated ap-
pearance caused by the light distor-
tion in the field of magnetic force
about the mouth of the tunnel. That
grey robe had to them always meant
the messenger from the land of
Death.

It was with complete unbelief and
consternation on their faces that they
watched the tall figure step out of the
mouth of the tunnel of force and be-
come shorter, suddenly but an ordin-
ary figure of the smaller races. He
cast off the grey robe and appeared
to them suddenly not as the dread
messenger from the Lord of Death
but as merely a warrior of the Nodes I

Kal took advantage of their froz-
en inability to comprehend. He
struck the first blow at the beliefs
that bound these giants to protect
the tunnel from the very invasion
he planned. Kal shouted:

"Now your eyes have seen the
truth of this pathway of the dead. It
is not holy. It is true there is a place
within where the dead are brought
back to life, but they are kept like
walking dead for warriors if need
arises. I think the need should arise.
Help me get ship to my own world,
there I will raise the signal and the
Blades alone will invade this world
of the dead if you will not help us.
There are those who dwell in slav-
ery to a sham, they are your people."

The giants rose from their knees,
full of anger at his words. But in a
moment the wonder of his presence
after they had seen his dead body
given to the Way — the possibility

AMAZING STORIES

that there was something not quite
straight about this tunnel of death-
began to penetrate their thinking.

One rumbled from his chest a few
words, stumbling and incoherent. "I
know not whether you be living or
spirit. Certain it is you have trod the
Way of the Dead and come forth
alive. As such you have the right of
the consecrated and are inviolate to
our anger as to our laws. I will take
you to the Genpoint, he will write
you a permit to travel outward or to
the globe of the Nodes if that is your
desire. Or he will destroy you, know-
ing more of these mysteries than our-
selves.'*

Kal put in a subtle word: "There
will be some fine looting to do, rich
and defenseless it is. You never saw
such women as he has prisoned there.
All as easy to take as the hat off
your head..." With' which Kal
leaped and knocked the helmet from
the warrior's head. The big fellow
grinned and stooped to pick it up,
his eyes upon the little man who had
no fear of either Death or of him-
self.

VANUE moved the record control
lever, and the scenes began to
flash by at blurring speed. Mion
leaned forward to watch intently, for
the speed was now confusing,

CONFERENCES, violent arguing
sessions, long trips from globe
to globe of the five satellites— the
effort Kal Harn had to make to con-
vince his superiors his tale was
true— To convince the Green Wing
herself it was necessary to bring her
the nurse and the doctor who had at-
tended him on his death bed.

The meeting between the Gen-
point and the Green Wing after their
former disagreement, their agree-
ment to join forces for this solution
of the disappearance of the dead

placed before the Opening of the
Way — the manufacture of a copy of
the cloak that Kal had worn, in great
numbers for the armies.

The Blades donning the grey metal
uniforms their own technicians had
manufactured from the one Kal
brought. The flight of their ships to
Gran Jac, back and forth, ferrying
them all to the City of the Temple.

Their entrance into the here-to-fore
sacred Temple, column on column
tramping through the x:orridors of the
ancient holiness now no longer holy.
The shocked faces of the put-aside
priests standing helpless before this
mass sacrilege. Armed men tramping
steadily through and into the fearful
tunnel of weird force! The last of
them entering and the mighty tread
of the arm.ies of Gran Jac beginning
as they followed their gigantic Gen-
point on the heels of the last of the
Blades.

A good half of those marching
black giants believed they were
marching into death, and would never
return — but they marched. Most of
them did not doubt the ability of the
ancient being ruling the land beyond
the tunnel to defeat them, expected
to find only dead Blades before the
other end of the tunnel.

To the meeting between Kal Harn
and Meloa T, there in front of the
Green Wing herself. Meloa flung her
arms about Kal and kissed him before
them all, and tears stained many a
v/arrior's eyes.

The march across that weird land
of mist and glowing rocks and
strange soft mosses. The sighting of
the great grey palace of the past,
and charging down upon them from
the stony heights an army fearful be-
yond normal fear.

For they were an army of the un-
dead, those who had passed through
the tunnel and been turned into dead-
alive by the Grey Lord. Mindless,

WE DANCE FOR THE DOM

their lips giving forth no crys, their
blades held straight before them. All
moving in unison as though one mind
alone directed every body— which it
did. Somewhere, seated before some
ancient energy device, the Grey Lord
was directing his automatons — and
each moved precisely as the other,
stiffly they marched, ran, thrust and
stabbed — all at the same time.

The fighting with that horde of
mindless things that had once been
men. Most of them were giant war-
riors from the planet surface, black
warriors of Gran Jac, and the flame
swords passed through their bodies,
burning and searing away the flesh —
yet they came on, swinging their
weapons and killing the invaders,
even when their own bodies were half
destroyed. Fearful was the sight of
warriors with legs hacked off, walk-
ing forward on the stumps, still stab-
bing and lunging in unison. And
each and every face v/earing the same
masklike emptiness, a face without
consciousness, a face that changed
not even when the body was separated
from it.

INTO THE thickest of the battle
came then the tall black-gowned
wom-an with the red bird upon her
shoulder. Sent her great winged
friend swooping and screaming above
the struggle, and cried out tc them
all:

"Do not fight with these things.
They are too worn with un-natural
life and long time to catch a living
man in flight. Run around them, push
them aside and pass on, disregard
them."

Even as she shouted at them she
showed them with swift hands how
they might be tripped up and piled
together like cordwood, one on top
of another, still with their swords
moving and cutting, their legs still
striding as if on firm earth!

After her demonstraton tlie quick
defeat of the army of the dead. Then
the entrance at last into the dread
old palace of the past, the glad cries
of captive women as they saw that
in truth this thing had come to pass
and they were delivered from that
which fed upon them.

Kal and Meloa and the Green
Wing, the Genpoint's giant form be-
side them, coming into the great
throne room of the red and black
checkered floor.

Seated there still at their strange
game the thin and beautiful black
queen, flinging still her rays of force
across the checkered floor against
the Grey Lord. And it, the Grey one,
his face fixed in a fury and his hands
upon the ray levers that would not
any longer bring him victory be-
cause the one being in all the world
who would have made him invincible
with her help was now an avenging
fury. The repudiation on her face of
the Grey One was a flame of meaning
across the throne room, augumented
by the great powers of the force rays
at her finger tips.

Kal raging out across the checkered
floor and the flame sword in his
hand arcing out in a great stroke that
would have lopped the head off the
Grey One. But his ray leaped from
his ancient device and the flame of
the sword died away before it. Kal
raging on, bringing the hilt of the
useless sword down upon the head
of the undying thing, sprawling him
out across the red and black like a
great dead spider.

The laugh of the black Queen to
see him so, that contained many life-
times of frustration and hate, a dread-
ful laugh to hear. Her ray touch-
ing his fallen head, and his thought
made loud for them to hear:

"Of all my age of striving toward
perfection of living, toward beauty
and the possession of beauty. All, all

AMAZING STORIES

my work cut down by the fist of a
youth of no intelligence. Ah, Nini-
tavha, my queen, how could you
do this to me?"

Of the Queen's strange answer to
the fallen Lord.

"You can ask that? Better to ask
how could I have borne your evil
life all this endless time without once
understanding that you were no long-
er life, but something much less
worth the simplest living thing! Bet-
ter to ask what makes a wife so stu-
pid about a thing she once loved !"

"If I had v/on our little game of
chess, Ninitavha, I meant to put
you into. . ."

Her ray reached out again and
touched him, he stiffened, his weird
long face . assuming suddenly that
mask like emptiness which told
them— the Grey Lord had himself be-
come what he had made of so many —
a thing without a mind. To Kal and
to them all it seemed a great im-
provement. The Genpoint led him
off, destined for exhibit on the sur-
face of Gran Jac.

^ANUE TOUCHED the controls,
^ and the shifting scenes of the
thought cloud ceased to flow one
into another, became the pearl and
smoky amber of quiescence, Mion
asked:
''But what of the stolen formula?

Where has it been all this time?'*

Vanue smiled, ''The brother of the
Green Wing stole it, he thought that
with Its possession he could bargain
his way into the seat of the Dom. Aft-
er the Dom gave the crown to his sis-
ter, ha was afraid to confess. He still
has it"

Mion laughed. He reached out and
woke the thought cloud again, dial-
ing a distant view of the five plan-
ets, watched while the great twist-
ing serpent of disintegrant ions
flowed on past the group of worlds.
"War will not sweep the five
worlds now, the tide of Dee has
passed on. It is a good record to dem-
onstrate the influence of disintegrant
flows upon human affairs/'

Mion leaned back, his eyes striv-
ing to keep from watching the over-
powering beauty of Vanue. The silk-
enly sliding feet of the Nor maids
came, removing the record spools, in-
serting again the usual suggestion
records which made the home of
Vanue a haven from all conflicting
or destructive mental forces. Softly
the great thought cloud moved upon
itself, and spread everywhere about
it a thought of ambition, of the goal
of living, but for Mion it was not
needed. For to him, the goal of liv-
ing was to become worthy of this
great being's regard.

A FIIVISnED SUBJECT

* By Walter Webb ^

WE'RE always talking about the great
futures of various branches of sci-
ence and how their expansions are going
to take place. For a change let's fasten on
a branch of science and mathematics for
which we can see no future expansion, a
branch which we think has been complete-
ly explored. We're speaking of the drafts-
man's art of descriptive geometry.

When the French mathematician and en-
gineer, Gaspard Monge, invented the meth-
od of projections, the three views which
everyone knov/s, and assorted other com-
plicated variations, his subject was rapid-
ly considered by many others. From this
study by scientists and engineers the whole

art of descriptive geometry and mechanical
drawing was quickly exhausted. Now the
matter is standardized completely and we
know that machines will be drawn on blue-
prints in the year two thousand exactly as
they have been for the last hundred years
and are now.

Some of the methods of descriptive geom-
etry are complicated, but when it is re-
membered that the subject was invented
to enable us to clearly describe in draw-
ings, any three dimensional object, no mat-
ter how viewed, it loses its terrors. So we
have a condition in which a branch of sci-
ence has reached its limit. One of the few
branches where there is no future. . .

GOOD OLD GAS!

t By J. n« Marks ^

IT'S THE fashion these days to criti-
cize that tried and true standby of en-
gineering and living— the gasoline engine.
People are always talking about the won-
ders and simplicity of the electric motor,
and saying that someday it will replace
the gas engine when a suitable electric
accumulator is developed. Well, this is
true. And there's no denying that every-
thing is in favor of the elcetric motor and
the gas turbine. They're efficient clean,
simple and have a thousand other virtues.
But there is one thing to remember.

Practically all of the horsepower today—
almost three quarters of it, at least in the
U.S. , is found in the ordinary internal
combustion engine and this includes all
coal and hyrdroelectric plants! That gives
you some idea of how important the gas
engine is. It has given the world mobility,
whatever else may be said about it. It's re-
liable and rugged and can take a terrible
beating and still run— as the last war
showed. It appears as if the Otto cycle,
internal combustion engine is going to be
with us for a long, long time.

In light of this fact, what can we ex-
pect? Can we expect that it will be great-
ly improved? Hasn't the internal combus-
tion engine just about reached its peak
in development? Let us consider these
things.

There will be few basic changes m gas
engines. Modern engineering has just
about reached the limit in this respect. We
build good gas engines. True, there is a
movement in the direction of valve in head
engines. Higher compression is also coming.
But these are not basic engineering im-
provements. They've been kno^vn about for
a long time and they are a matter of fuel
improvements rather than anything else.

In minor respects, the utilization of new
alloys, new valve materials, more rigid
crankshafts, and so forth, we can expect

small steps forward. A major improvement
in gas engines also is in the matter of
operating them at higher running temper-
atures. This can be done by using a closed
cooling system, using steam as the medium
and running the water jacket at the tem-
perature of boiling water. This is more ef-
ficient and better for the engine. Another
approach, and a mighty important one, is
the use of air-cooled engines. This research
has been stimulated by the Army which
knows how much unnecessary weight and
complications are added to an engine which
is water cooled. As a result numerous
truck engine manufacturers are developing
air-cooled engines which weigh a third of
the conventional weight, and which are
easier to maintain, smaller and more effi-
cient for the same horsepower.

It is only a matter of time before such
simplified engines are applied to the auto-
mobile. We have had air-cooled engines in
cars in the past. Why they haven't been a
great success is inexplicable. Primarily it
is inertia and resistance to anything new
that so characterizes much of the buying
public. Undoubtedly air-cooled engines are
in the near future.

All of these things however may be
nullified if and when a successful, cheap
gas turbine is manufactured. It seems too
early to say definitely, but certainly the
hand-writing is on the wall. The gas tur-
bine is coming — and fast. Even so, the in-
ternal combustion engine appears as if it
will be with us for a long time. An emi-
nent Chinese engineer says that what his
backward country needs is numerous sim-
ple two-cylinder engines to take the curse
off manual labor. So the answer is — don't
sell the good old gas engine short. We'll
be hearing a lot about pistons and valves
even during the early rocket and atomic
ages!

MICHELSON'S TIDES

^ By W* R« Chase

THE NAME of Michelson, the American
physicist, is immortalized in a number
of scientific instruments and experiments.
There are the Michelson interferometer
used in measuring the stars, the famous
Michelson-Morley experiment so famous m
relativity, and not least, "the Michelson
Ocean." , ,

The inteferometer is now used wherever
minute distances are to be accurately
measured. It is an optical instrument of
extreme sensitivity. As a matter of fact it
was the heart of the Michelson-Morley ex-
periment.

But not so well known is the Michelson
Ocean. In an effort to measure the tides,
the effect of the Moon on the Earth's

oceans, Michelson constructed a steel pipe
about a hundred and fifty meters long,
leveled with extraordinary accuracy. By
locating telescopes at either end and filling
the pipe half full of water it was possible
to duplicate the Pacific on a small scale.

While this experiment gave accurate data
on the heights of the tides, it also provided
the information indirectly that the rigidity
of the Earth was comparable with steel,
an opinion which hadn't hitherto been held.
Study of earthquakes later confirmed this
discovery. Also a consequence of this exper-
iment was the observation that, though tx)
strong quick forces the Earth acts like
steel, to weak long-duration forces, the
Earth behaves as a plastic putty-ball I

CITY OF THE DEAD

By G. M. Martin

They called Launn a elty of the dead. Its
Martian peoples lay frozen in their tracks.
But were they really dead--or only asleep?

Paper of Research Prepared by
Professor John Granger
Weston Scientific Foundation
New York, N. Y.
August 11, 2024

Having recently returned from
that barren section of Mars, called
the Plain of Parna, I wish to re-
port that the City of Launn actually
exists. Scientists of this foundation
have long believed that at one time
the Plain of Parna, now desolate
wasteland was inhabitatcd, and irri-
gated to produce vast riches to sup-
port a city far ahead, in every cul-
tural sense, of any earth settlement.

Sparse news of Launn can be gath-
ered on Mars itself. As this planet
has once more reverted to the rug-
ged, mining and pioneer country
that our own west resembled at one
time, the people chuckle at the mere
thought that Launn existed or that
Mars has ever been anything but a
rough, uncomfortable place to live.

Not discouraged at the unfriendly
attitude encountered in Martian set-
tlements, I left the last outpost,
P'itzroy, on the edge of the Plain of
Parna, July seventh, 2023. I was
alone, and in trying to navigate over
the Plain in a small space ship sup-
plied for me by the foundation, I
soon learned that the terrific heat
caused updrafts above the desert
that made space navigation impossi-
ble. I was forced to return to Fitz-

roy and solicit the assistance of a
Burtell* caravan master, who after
many weeks, managed to come with-
in sight of Launn. It was then that
I learned that other Martians had
seen Launn, but refused to help me
as they feared the strange city of
dead.

While the caravan master waited
for a week at the edge of the city,
I carried on alone. I have proven
that this city is inhabited by a race
of dead people. Men and women
who, for some strange reason, were
suddenly petrified in the very midst
of their activity. I found men in the
act of cutting hair, stopped in ac-
tion, their clippers halted in mid-
air.

I found shopkeepers, women at
the city fountain, everyone in fact,
smiling and robust in appearance,
but solid as stone and standing as
they must have stood when some
strange force rooted them to the
spot.

Launn, I have deduced, was not
only centuries ahead of all other
Martian civilization, but had ma-
chines and culture vastly improved
on our own.

It is my fondest dream to return
to Launn with proper materials, and
attempt to bring the people of this
city to life. To study them and de-
termine what changes can be made
to better our own living by copying

*Burtell - Martian desert burr»

Granger couldn't n)«U up his mind whether

♦o be alarmed or amuled by the appearance and actions of the Insect men

AMAZING STORIES

the citizens of this long dead city.
I am prepared. . .

AUTHOR'S NOTE— This account
covered a total of five hundred
pages, and dealt in detail with every
phase of life (or death) in Launn,
It was read on August 22, to the
members of the Weston Research
Foundation.

Charles Weston, a stern faced
man^ his almost bald scalp shining
under the light of the lamps above
the long table, cleared his throat.

'^Gentlemen," he addressed the dis-
tinguished group seated on either
side of the table. '*You have heard
John Granger's report. May I, as the
leader of this foundation, offer a
few words?"

It was obvious from the look of
determination on his face that no
one could stop him. No one tried.

"Granger is ill at present. He
could not be at this meeting and the
report has been read by the secretary
of the foundation. It is a most in-
teresting report, if rather long wind-
ed..."

A few men chuckled softly at this
point.

''Granger is ill, as I mentioned be-
fore. His — mind — isn't quite as clear
as it v/as when he joined our ranks
several years ago.

His meaning was obvious. Some
of the foundation's members smiled.
Others, friends of Granger, didn't
look happy.

"Granger tells us that we can gain
a cultural heritage from Launn, //
in some expensive and far fetched
manner, we can restore life to a
race of dead people that we are not
even sure exist.

**Weston Foundation spends its
money only on sound research,
where the benefits gained can be
given direct to Americans to better

their living. For this reason, I vote
against anything that sounds as
vague as Granger's suggestion. I do
not care to spend millions pursuing
a will-o-the wisp which probably ex-
ists only in Granger's mind."

He sat down rather heavily, light-
ed a new cigar and waited for sug-
gestions. Near the far end of the
table a tall, rather gaunt looking
man stood up. Weston nodded at
him.

"What have you to say, Jordon?"

Phillip Jordon smiled. It made him
look like a grinning death head with
nothing but skin to cover the bones
of his ugly face.

"I'm with you, Weston," he said.
"But I'll go a step farther. Granger
is washed up. He's too old and he's
a dreamer. Not aggressive enough
for the foundation's purpose. I pro-
pose that he be asked to retire and
give up his position here." j||||

A stir of unrest in the room ^^
caused men to whisper among them- \

selves. Someone said, without aris-
ing.

"Granger didn't cut in on your
field at Fitzroy, did he Phillip?"

pHILLIP JORDON reddened.
*^ Weston was on his feet, and his
heavy fist crashed down on the
table.

"Just a moment," he said loudly.
"Phillip Jordon is a member of good
standing here. It was long ago
proven that he has no connection
with Sulphana Inc. Why do you men
persist. ... ?

The man who had challenged Jor-
don stood up. His name was Weaks,
and he was one of the few Granger
supporters left in the room.

"Because," he said, "Jordon has
been seen in and out of Sulphana
for years. Sulphana gets its product
from an undetermined location near

CITY OF THE DEAD

Fitzroy, Mars. I have cancelled
checks proving that Jordon received
regular payments from Sulphana and
now he is very anxious to keep
Granger from going back to Fitz-
roy. It fits, that's all. I see it that
way, and I'll send in my resignation
tomorrow. Good day, gentlemen/*

He pushed his chair back and left
the room.

The room was very quiet, save for
Weston's labored breathing. Few
men dared insult him in this manner.
He owned and operated the largest
research group in America.

"Weston owns America's brains,"
was the saying of the nation.

"Are there any more who wish to
walk through that door?" he asked
at last. No one moved. No one
looked up.

"I accept your suggestion, Jor-
don," Weston said at length. "Gran-
ger will be asked to retire at once."

CHARLES WESTON—President
of the organization— said in the
NEW YORK CITIZEN:

Granger's report reflects in no way
on the Foundation. We do not
choose to vouch for the truth of
his words, or to deny it. Further
study is necessary. Personally, I
can say that doubt exists in my
mind concerning the full truth of
the report.

August 30— NEW YORK CITI-
ZEN: John Granger, the man who
visited a dead city, killed his own
chances for a fine career with the
Weston Research Foundation by re-
signing abruptly, without explain-
ing his reasons for doing so. It is
thought that a statement in this
paper by the director of the Founda-
tion, Charles Weston, may have
caused ill feelings between these two
men.

AUTHOR'S NOTE— Several years
passed after Granger dropped back
into public life. Then in 2033, a
small concern announced its inten-
tion to explore the Plain of Parna
at its own expense. The organization
was listed as Granger and Brandon
—Scientific Foundation. An insight
into this organization can be gained
by the following letter from Lester
R. Brandon of Yale College to:

John Granger
144 Ridge Road
Brighton, New York
Dear Mr. Granger:

Our past correspondence has been
pleasant, but without direct results.
I have studied the Weston case
against you with great interest and
agree that Phillip Jordon shows un-
due interest in preventing us from
visiting Launn. Jordon has recently
been doing business openly with
Sulphana Inc. Sulphana's product, I
am ready to swear, is not a manu-
factured one. It has been produced
by some animal of plant life, for
we find it impossible to break down
chemically all the ingredients found
in it. Like the ancient sulpha drug,
it cures. But it works in cases that
one would think impossible to ef-
fect a cure. Sulphana will cure and
knit a wound in two days. It will
actually bring a man back to health
when all other medical aids have
failed.

It is my belief that our trip to
Launn will be two-fold in purpose.
I will attempt to assist you in bring-
ing to life the strange race of peo-
ple you mention. I will also attempt
to trace the source of Sulphana. The
organization now controlling it holds
a monopoly, and is robbing the pub-
lic with prices beyond all reason. I
would like to play a part in bring-
ing Sulphana down to the working

AMAZING STORIES

man's reach and at the same time
join with you in an attempt to save
Launn.

I realize that officially your stand-
ing is bad. Weston ruined you. That
makes no difference to me. I'm
young and have no reputation. This
trip may make me great. It cannot
harm me, for there is no reputation
to harm.

Cordially,

Les Brandon

This was followed by another let-
ter on September 4 of the same year,
also to:

John Granger
144 Ridge Road
Brighton, New York
Dear John:

The plans are complete. I will sup-
ply a cook, Mrs. Jenny Hudson, who
is a hardy soul and a clever person
with a menu. Her husband, who for
some years has done janitor work
here at the college, is the very man
for the hardwork of the organiza^
tion. PeeWee Hudson we call him,
and he's well over six feet tall, hard
as nails and clever with his fists.

I'm delighted to hear that your
wife wishes to accompany us. I'm
sure from your description that she's
a very pleasant person, and will add
to the success of the venture.

I'll meet you at Fitzroy, Mars, in
October. The worst of the heat will
be gone from the Plain of Parna by
then. I plan to ship the desert car
from New York this month and go
along as space cargo to see the car
safely to Fitzroy.

Your friend,

Les Brandon

♦ * *

'pHE SLIM freight-bubble flashed
over the twisting sands of the

Plain of Parna, sending up a roll of
dust in its wake. Inside the swift
utility car, five people sat in vari-
ous stages of exhaustion. PeeWee
Hudson's wife, Jenny, was the worst.
Jenny, fat and covered with perspi-
ration, had grumbled ever since the
freight-bubble left Fitzroy, the last
Martian outpost on the edge of the
Plain of Parna.

PeeWee Hudson had ignored his
wife thus far, but his huge face was
red with humiliation for her actions.
If Jenny troubled him with her con-
stant nagging, the others in the car
were secretly amused at the whole
affair.

John Granger smiled as he guided
the car ahead, his hatids gripping the
steering levers.

"Hold out a half hour longer," he
said. "We'll be close to Launn by
then. It will be cooler near the
mountains."
Jenny sniffed.

"I said it once and I'll say it
again, John Granger. I don't approve
of this visiting dead people. It
ain't..."

PeeWee Hudson's mouth opened
slowly.

**Aww! Jenny, why don't you keep
quiet. You're just fretting."

Jenny's jaws snapped together
with an audible click.

"Don't you tell me to shut up,
PeeWee Hudson," she resumed.
"I'll..."

**Hold it, Jenny," the young man
sitting behind the map-desk said.
*'There isn't room in here for a free
for all. Wait until we reach Launn.
We'll rope off a ring and you and
your husband can fight it out."

Jenny Hudson gave Les Brandon
one of those, 'Now see here young
man' looks, and remained silent.
Brandon studied his maps for a
moment and then looked up again.

CITY ©F THE DEAD

"Ten minutes will end the jovir-
ney, John, if my figures check. Give
me the readings once more, will
you?"

John Granger turned momentari- ,
ly to his young flaxen-haired Eve
who sat beside him.

"Give our most excellent assistant
the necessary data, will you, Eve?"

Eve Granger laughed*

•'I guess that will silence you, mas-
ter-mind Brandon," she called back
to the man at the map-desk. **R«-
lax, will you. Don't be so darned for-
mal out here on the desert."

Brandon smiled and consulted his
maps once more. Eve Granger
frowned upon receiving no reply,
then started to read the instruments
on the control board.

"Speed — 450— time out of Fitaroy
— 5 hours — time to Launn — estimated
twenty minutes—"

''Check," Brandon said. "Thank
you, Mrs. Granger."

She turned half around in her seat
and said with a smile, "Eve, to my
friends."

Brandon tried to smile, failed mis-
erably and went back to his work.

nrHE HEAT was increasing. The
•*" low built, speedy car hurtled
ahead, its rubber treads flashing
under it, bouncing into the air now
and then, to hit fifteen or twenty
yards further ahead and gather
speed once more.

Within, triple shock absorbers
killed the vibration. The car was a
traveling fortress, filled with scien-
tific materials, food supplies and
light armaments. There remained
just room to accommodate its five
occupants, officially entered on the
Fitzroy records as the Granger Ex-
ploration Party,

Ahead of them now, under the
purple shadows of the Mountain of

Spawn, a city was springing out of
the desert. Bits of it seemed to arise
and take shape in the misty shad-
ows of later afternoon. Gradually
the people in the exploration car
grew quiet. Les Brandon looked up
from his desk and stared ahead, over
Eve Granger's golden head at the
city. Jenny forgot to quarrel with
her husband and John Granger
gripped the levera more tightly and
fought with the rocket motors to
get just a little more speed.

This was Launn, City of the Dead.

This was the center of a vast civil-
ization in an arid desert country
where people supposedly did not ex-
ist Abruptly the desert ceased and
the firs't towers of Launn rose ab-
ruptly toward the sky. They were
slim and cylindrical, made of the
daintiest crystal, yet designed never
to fall. Launn was laid out in a vast
circle beneath the forboding crags
of the Mount of Spawn. It nestled
there on the edge of the Plain of
Parna, like a huge, delicately cut
jewel, lovely as a diamond yet nes-
tled in a setting of dust and grim
shadows.

John Granger was the first to
speak.

"I have come back to Launn," he
said softly. "I said ten years ago
that I would return. I made that
promise to the Prince. I wonder," his
voice was strangely choked with
envotion, "if there is still time?"

He had married Eve, ten years his
junior, when he returned from his
first pilgrimage to Launn. Brandon
was a good man, but he had been in
high school then. PeeWee Hudson
and his wife were almost strangers
to Granger. PeeWee had been added
for his brawn and Jenny because she
cooked food that no expedition
could afford to be without.

"John," Eve Granger's voice was

AMAZING STORIES

a trifle awed, "those towers and the
low, beautifully designed buildings
below them? They are full of the
dead?"

Granger nodded.

"Dead? Yes, according to our
standards. Stiff yet natural, like
frozen marble. I wonder if they are
actually dead?"

"We'll pray that they aren't, Pro-
fessor," Brandon said suddenly. His
voice, cool, businesslike, startled the
dreamlike atmosphere of the conver-
sation. "The melform injections may
do the trick."

His eyes were bright. His voice,
untouched by the spell of magic felt
by the others, sounded mechanical
and like a college student reciting
a lesson. There wasn't a bit of ro-
mance in Brandon, Eve Granger
thought, and it made her resent him
strangely. Brandon was miscast in
this dream world. Brandon was— too

^well — too darn down to earth. She

shivered, letting the twisting, reel-
ing shadows and the purple mists
catch hold of her soul. This was a
wonderful place. A land of dreams
and of death.

**I suggest that we avoid the city
tonight," Brandon said, his words
clipped and professional.

John Granger nodded.

"Memories urge me to rush in at
once to revisit the palace," he said.
"Yet I know you're right. There
have been changes. It might not be
safe. We'll establish camp close to
the walls and go in when morning
brings better light."

PVE GRANGER turned hurriedly
^•^ in her seat, disappointment
clouding her pretty face.

"Oh— Les." She looked at Bran-
don. "There you go again. Always
scientific and practical. How can
you resist those lovely towers? I

should think you'd want to see for
yourself all the wonderful things
John has been telling about all these
years. Why don't you get your nose
away from the desk and be human
for a little while?"

PeeWee Hudson grunted a little,
his only form of protest. He dared
not speak aloud before Jenny, but
he agreed with Brandon. Eve Gran-
ger picked on Brandon most of the
time. Brandon was all right. He was
a whizz at medical science, and plen-
ty cool. Plenty, PeeWee thought.
Why didn't the Granger dame keep
her pretty mouth shut?

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Granger," Bran-
don said. "Your husband mentioned
the insect people who caused him
trouble during his last trip here. I
wouldn't let the spell of the city
catch me off guard if I were you. It
might be well to be cautious."

The girl had turned around once
more, her face red as she stared
straight ahead.

Brandon studied the back of her
head for a minute, then returned to
his papers. The car halted.

John Granger climbed wearily
from behind the control panel.

"You and PeeWee set up camp,"
he said. "Eve and I will go a bit
closer to Launn and have a look
around. Eve is quite anxious to sec
the place."

"I wouldn't suggest..."

"We didn't ask for suggestions,"
Eve Granger snapped. She followed
her husband down the small ladder
to the desert floor. "Set up the
tents, Les. That's your style. Be sure
your netting is snug tonight. A lit-
tle green insect man might creep in
and pinch you on the leg."

They waited until John Granger
and his wife were some distance
away. Then PeeWee Hudson lum-
bered down the stairs and started to

CITY OF THE DEAD

open the freight compartment. He
was busy pulling out the carefully
rolled silkeen tents when Brandon
descended the stairs, stretched and
stared after John and Eve Granger,
tiny specks against the horizon.

''Never mind that broad," PeeWee
said in a voice filled with disgust.
"She ain't got brains enough to come
in outa the wet. You're okay, Mr.
Brandon. What you said was right.*'
Brandon turned absently and gave
him a hand with the tent poles.

"I'm not so sure that I am," he
said mildly. "You know, Mrs. Gran-
ger has real spirit. I admire spirit."

"Jeez," Hudson said. "Jeez, but
you can take an awful lickin' and
come back for more."

"It's a pity you can't be polite to
women, PeeWee Hudson." PeeWce
ducked instinctively as Jenny came
toward them. "Now rattle your bones
around and get that camp stove set
up. We're all too hungry to listen to
your tongue rattle."

PeeWee Hudson winked at Bran-
don.

"You see what I mean," he said in
a low voice. "Women are a lot
afturc/*

"What's that?" Jenny Hudson's
ears were tuned to just such con-
versational undertones.

PeeWce straightened up, carrying
the stovH and went toward her with
it

"I said women are all right," Pee-
Wee said. "Say Jenny, you gonna
give us some more of that Fitzroy
special tonight? That's the best
bread I ever did eat."

Jenny sniffed.

"You're kiddin' again, PeeWee,"
she said, but it was evident that she
was pleased. "You go out there and
make sure the Professor is all.,."

"BONG"

'JpHE CLEAR, deep notes of a bell
silenced her abruptly. The three
of them pivoted as one toward the
rapidly darkening city of Launn.

"What the heck was that?" Pee-
Wee inquired.

"One of them darned corpses com-
ing to life," Jenny said in an awed
voice. "I knew we shouldn't
"BONG"

The sound came again, the distant
pealing of a great bell, vibrating
against the thin air.

Brandon dropped the tent-roll
which he had started to assemble.

"Get the fire pistols," he shouted.
"I'll bring the rifles from the cabin.
Jenny, you stay with the car and
keep the fire gun ready. We may
need you."

Brandon's voice was urgent and
filled with something more compel-
ling than fear. Without a word, Jen-
ny and PeeWee Hudson made their
way swiftly to the car. Hudson came
out with two small, wicked looking
pistols. He caught up with Brandon
who was already on his way across
the sands.

"What you figure is wrong?"
Hudson ran as fast as his heavy
body would allow. He had to strug-
gle to keep up with Brandon who
moved swiftly, easily, in long, run-
ning strides.

"The green men Granger told us
about," Brandon snapped. "Jenny
was wrong about the dead ones.
They can't harm us. It's the living
we must worry about."

They reached the outskirts of
Launn and because he had heard
long detailed accounts of the city
from John Granger's lips, Brandon
knew where he was going. Low,
colorful buildings closed in about
them. Empty doorways, empty
streets, silent, tomb-like places swal-
lowed them up.

AMAZING STORIES

"Where was the bell?''
PeeWee Hudson was beginning to
get his wind. Away from Jenny, his
courage arose.

"From the palace, I think," Bran-
don said. "John and Mrs. Granger
must have gone there in spite of my
advice. They've met the insect men.
God alone knows. .."

He stopped trying to talk, and
conserved his breath. The city was
a wonderful place, but he had no
time to notice it now. He was aware
only that the gong had rung twice
and was now silent. That he and
PeeWee Hudson had to save their
friends from death.
He had heard about the gong.
"If a visitor dares enter Launn and
does not return, the gong sounds,"
John Granger had told him years
ago. "After the gong sounds, it is but
a matter of time before the body is
found. Launn is a beautiful place,
haunted with grim, stalking death."
Damn Eve Granger, Brandon
thought. If her anxiety to see Launn
tonight had resulted in her husband's
death, the expJoration would be use-
less. Women, in young Brandon's es-
timation, were thick headed, lovely
fools.

rpHE PALACE was close to the
•*■ outskirts of the city. Brandon
had it in his mind as clearly as
• though he had been here a hundred
times. Even as he saw it, he remem-
bered Granger's first description,
and could not change a word of it.
His feet pounded up the wide mar-
ble stairs. He heard PeeWee Hudson
close behind.

"A palace beyond description with
great beauty and unity of design,"
Granger had said. "Built low to the
ground, with crystal spires rising
from its many terraces. Spires that
point upward until you fear they

might pierce the sky. The terraces
were barren of life, but shimmering
under the radiance of millions of
strange jewels set into the floors and
the walls. The palace of Launn is a
wonderful place."

Those had been Granger's words,
and Brandon thought as he charged
across the first terrace, that this
was not wonderful, but a treacher-
ous, death-filled morgue.

He hardly noticed the two silent
guards in blue who stood on each
side of the doors as he threw them
open. His eyes were focused down
the long tapestry hung hall, and at
the scene in the throne room be-
yond.

The insect men of John Granger's

memory.

He kept on running, the fire pistol
in one hand, the powerful fire rifle
in his other. He heard Hudson swear
loudly behind him.

At the entrance of the throne
room, Brandon stopped short, his
eyes wide with amazement.

The room was huge, a crystal ceil-
ing shimmering high above in the
pale light. In the center of the great
room, seated on a high throne, was
the dead Prince of Launn, blond
headed, garbed in a rich, crimson
robe, his clear eyes staring over
the mob below him. Staring into in-
finity—into the land beyond life.

John and Eve Granger were at
his feel, their arms and legs bound
with bits of their own clothing.

About them, crawling like a vast
horde of huge ants, the insect men
of Launn were swarming. Brandon's
eyes swept the scene hurriedly, des-
perately, yet the details were so ter-
rible that he remembered them for-
ever after.

The insect men were three feet
long, and their faces, yellow and
beaked, looked strangely human. Be-

CITY OF THE DEAD

yond that, all resemblance to human
beings ended abruptly. Their bodies
were an unhealthy green and their
forearms were jointed and hinged
like the arms of a lobster. Their bod-
ies were fat and puffy and they
propelled themselves by four hind
feet that kicked spasmodically, send-
ing them scuttling along at a tre-
mendous speed. The floor was cov-
ered with a green slimy substance
that seemed to come from them as
they scurried along the floor.

Brandon saw two insect men dart
in and nip at Granger with the long
forearms.

He charged in among them, toss-
ing aside the fire pistol and pull-
ing back the trigger that opened the
full power of the fire rifle.

TT MUST have been the sudden
•*• surprise that caught them off
guard and sent them scuttling for
protection.

Brandon lost all sense of caution.
He moved ahead steadily, never giv-
ing ground, always with that sear-
ing, fire-trail of death cutting ahead
of him. He saw three of them start
to. drag Granger away. Taking a
chance at hitting his friend, he man-
aged to kill the creatures. The room
was silent now. One or two of the
dying insect men tried to rise, and
fell again, to roll over with their
terrible limbs protruding in the air.

He was at Granger's side, fighting
with the knots that held him.

"Thank God/* he heard Granger
mumble.

Eve's face was very white and as
he helped her to her feet, she leaned
against him heavily.

"You'll be all right/' he said.

She was crying hysterically. Her
husband came to her.

"We've got to get out of here be-
fore they return," he said, and they

started unsteadily for the door.
PeeWee Hudson followed, still
swearing loudly at the dead and dy-
ing he left behind. The throne room
was a shambles. As Brandon hurried
after his friends, he took one last
look at the dead Prince.

The Prince was as he had first
seen him, serene and calm in death.

ORANDON led the way back to
^^ the camp. Eve Granger efused
to speak to him again. Branaon knew
how she and her husband felt. They
had entered the city against their
own better judgment. That they
were still alive was due to better
luck than either of them deserved.

"I'll admit as much," Granger said
when they were once more near their
own fire and under the protection
of the heavy gun mounted in the
car. "Eve and I were fools. We ven-
tured too far into the city. They
attacked us in the streets and car-
ried us to the palace. Admit, Eve,
that Les was no cream puff. He
saved our lives."

Eve Granger didn't answer. She
turned away from the group, back
toward the city.

Granger hesitated, then embar-
rassed at her behaviour, cleared his
throat and went on talking.

"Good job, Brandon. The insect
men know I'm back and they know
why. For that reason, they're hostile
toward me, though I've never harmed
any of them before. From now on, it
will be a battle of the death."

Dinner was consumed and the fire
died out. Jenny Hudson basked in
the glory of having produced a good
meal and PeeWee fell asleep under
the car.

For a long time after the others
were asleep, Brandon stood on the
desert, staring at the strange city
of Lauhn. Something stirred within

AMAZING STORIES

him that he could not explain. Why
had Eve refused to be his friend?
It had never mattered much to him
what any woman said or thought.
Yet, tonight he was vaguely dis-
tressed by her attitude. He decided
that she was just another bull head-
ed member of her ungrateful sex,
and tried to let it go at that. Still,
he was worried and could not sleep
whtn at last he tied the netting
around his cot and sought rest. He
kept remembering her warning of this
afternoon.

"Be sure to sleep with your net-
ting tied tightly."

He swore and turned on his back,
staring up at the clear, crazy pat-
tern of a strange sky.

Eve Granger, he decided, was get-
ting under his skin.

Wj THINK," John Granger said
quietly, "that we should tour
the city in the desert car. I suggest
that one person remain in the car
to cover any side trips we wish to
make into the various buildings. In
that way, the insect men will be un-
able to surprise us."

The small party had gathered
early, the camp was dismantled and
packed away in the car. They were
ready for the first official visit to
Launn.

"The plan is a good one,*' Bran-
don said. "After last night, we face
danger at every corner."

Eve Granger who had failed to
offer anything to the conversation
thus far, suggested a little sarcastic-
ally:

'Terhaps you should stay in the
car, Mr. Brandon. It may not be
safe..."

"Eve," John Granger interrupted
almost harshly, "if you can't be civil
this morning, I think you'd be bet-
ter off away from us all. You may
drive/'

The girFs face flushed crimson,
but she didn't reply. She v/ent hur-
riedly up the ramp and into the nav-
igation room of the vehicle. In five
minutes they were entering Launn.
With the coming of daylight, the
city was more beautiful than ever.
For an hour they cruised up wide
colorful streets, across sparkling la-
goons and over tower ramps, high
above the earth level.

At last Granger asked that the
car be halted before a small, com-
pact building constructed of colored
bricks.

"Here," he said solemnly, "we will
see for the first time what devastat-
ing effect the Power had on the peo-
ple of Launn."

They had long ago learned to
speak of it as the Power. No one
knew what had happened to the peo-
ple of Launn. Something had killed
them while life was proceeding at ^
normal pace. The Power had stopped
all action suddenly, like a clock that
runs down and cannot continue to
tick.

They left the car quietly. Bran-
don was thinking of the handsome
Prince of Launn whom he had seen
last night. A man caught in the
prime of life, sitting on his throne,
staring with sightless eyes over the
heads of green insects.

John Granger took the lead, open-
ing the door to the building. They
crowded into the doorway, Jenny
Hudson and her husband, PeeWee,
John Granger and Brandon. None
of them spoke for a long time. Then
Jenny said in a hushed voice:

"Dozens of them. All nice looking,
too, and deader than herring."
Granger sighed.

"Dead? We hope not. Perhaps. .. ?"
The room must have been a place
of worship. It was large, decorated
with huge murals of finest crafts-
manship. Delicate crystal windows

CITY OF THE DEAD

allowed the morning light to sift
across row upon row of still, intel-
ligent faces. Every person in the
room was spotlessly robed in white
silk. Every person, and there were
hundreds of them, was staring sight-
lessly at the empty altar near the far
end of the room. It was like a huge
exhibit in a wax museum, Brandon
thought. A perfect reproduction of
life frozen in death.

He turned away and his eyes sought
Eve Granger, still sitting above them
in the cab of the car. She was f rown-

ij^g*
He heard the coor close behind

him and Granger said :

**A11 over the city. Barbers, actors
on the stage, craftsmen at their
work, society people, bathing, read-
ing, living in their homes. The Pow-
er caught them all, rich and poor
alike. Preserved them thus."

IT WAS close to night once more,
and they had seen it all. Seen
everything that John Granger had
waited and fought to return to for
ten long years.

The car halted in a huge park.

"This will be satisfactory,'* Gran-
ger said. "The lagoon will supply
water. The turf is clear for a hun-
dred yards in any direction. The in-
sect men can't steal up without being

seen."

In an hour they had established

camp.

After that, Brandon wandered
around by himself, careful to stay
within range of the heavy fire guns
that PeeWee Hudson kept watch
over in the car. Eve Granger was
hard at work with Jenny Hudson.
They were working over the dinner.
John Granger had retired to his
maps of the city, where every per-
son in Launn was recorded as a
small V on roll after roll of white
map paper.

The plan was simple, Brandon
thought. Of seven serums he had
prepared, they hoped that one would
revive the population, or at least
part of it. After that, Granger
would work methodically until ev-
ery small 'x' had been erased, until
every person in Launn was alive.
Then would come the months, per-
haps years, of study. The master
plan was to take from these people
a culture that would be invaluable
on earth.

There was no doubt in Brandon's
mind that this was a far advanced
civilization.

What had caused its death?
In addition to the cultural aspect,
Brandon couldn't shake from his
mind the stern, compelling face of
Phillip Jordon, the man who had
fought their plans until the last mo-
ment. From Fitzroy, giant liners took
valuable Sulphana to earth. Yet, no
one knew where it came from. Per-
haps from Launn?

He thought that they had not
heard the last of Jordon. Jordon was
a hard man, and if they came even
close to stumbling on to the source
of Sulphana, Jordon would be there
to protect his interests.

Did the dead people of Launn
know the secret of Sulphana? Per-
haps. Time would tell. If they did,
Jordon must have found it by acci-
dent. Launn had been dead for many
centuries. How many, no one knew.
Brandon shrugged. That would come
later. As long as Jordon left them
alone, there was other work to be
done. He must help Granger first.
Help the man regain his position in
society and in the great Weston
Foundation. That meant more to
Granger than a fortune in Sulphana.
Meant more than life itself, and
Granger was no longer a young man.
Granger's age turned Brandon's
thoughts to Eve. Granger's wife was

AMAZING STORIES

a young, selfish woman. Granger
should never have married her. He,
Brandon, had to get his mind off
Eve. She wasn't good for him.
Wasn't good for any of them.

Above the park, the lofty, black
crags of the Mountain of Spawn
pushed toward the city. The cliffs
seemed to reach out like shadows,
closing in upon him. He drew his
tunic closer and walked back to the
camp. Jenny Hudson was dishing
out savory bowls of turtle soup. He
forgot for a time the grasping shad-
ows of the mountain.

?^IJUT I'LL swear she was sound
asleep at six this morning,"
Jenny Hudson said. "Pee Wee snores,
poor thing. I'm not used to sleeping
in the same room with him. He woke
me up at six and I took a peek
through the curtain at Mrs. Granger.
She was sound asleep."

John Granger returned from his
search of the lagoon. His face was
lined with worry. He managed to
keep his voice calm.

"Brandon, I'm afraid I'm respon-
sible for Eve's disappearance," he
said. "I spoke harshly to her last
night. She's not accustomed to this
sort of thing. Lived a sheltered life
at Brighton. I depended on her to
pull out of it in a week or two.
She's not a bad sort of girl."

PeeWee took the heavy gun and
started toward the desert. He said,
"I think you'd better stay with Jen-
ny. I'll try some of the streets near
the palace."

It was eight in the morning. Jenny
had called Eve Granger at seven. It
was then that the search had started.
Les Brandon had missed his small
bag, the one that contained the in-
jection needles.

He had his own theory of Eve's
disappearance. Thus far he had de

cided not to pass it on to the others.
'1 don't feel right about staying
here— not helping," Granger said. "I
guess Jenny needs me."

'7enny Hudson can take care of
herself," the fat woman said stub-
bornly. "I'll sit up there near the
fire cannon and if any of them
darned green bugs show up, I'll blast
them into Kingdom-Come."

Granger turned appealingly to
Brandon.

Brandon nodded.

'*I guess Jenny's right," he said.

Together they started toward the
palace.

Brandon had noticed as time went
on that Launn started getting under
a man's skin. The uncanny silence
was disturbing. Here was a great
city, perfectly in order, without
movement or sound within its limits.
Here, behind every door, dead peo-
ple stood or sat on their jobs, a sit
down strike that struck horror to the
heart of any man. People had sat
for perhaps ten centuries, their
bodies in perfect condition, without
movement or life. A city suspended
in time.

They reached the palace. They
went down the great hall toward the
throne room.

With the injection case gone,
Brandon guessed that Eve Granger
might have decided to get revenge
of sorts for the manner in which
they had treated her.

JJE REACHED the court room, to
see that the dead Prince was
still on his throne. Nothing had been
touched.

Then he had been wrong. In guess-
ing at Eve's actions, he assumed that
the Prince would be the first per-
son she might try to restore to life.
She would, in this manner prove to
them that she was not helpless but

CITY OF THE DEAD

was entirely able to become a work-
ing member of the group.

Granger watched him circle the
throne slowly, then curiosity made
him question Brandon.

**You think that Eve would have
come here?**

Brandon nodded.

"My injection case was missing/*
he said. "I didn't tell the others."

Granger thought for some time.
Then he nodded.

"That sounds like Eve all right.
Headstrong as she is, she may have
hoped to steal some of our glory to
prove herself fit.*'

"Evidently not," Brandon said.

He started back toward the outer
doors. The palace was silent. The
gun, coming in the doors, made
strange designs on the rugs.

Halfway to the open doors, he
^topped abruptly. Something was
wrong with the picture he saw.
Something that he couldn't quite put
his finger on.

He stood still, staring at the rich
rugs, the pictures of royalty that
that hung on the wall. Then it
f^awned on him.

''The blue guards" he said aloud.

John Granger's eyes widened with
amazement.

"The what?"

Brandon started to run toward the
door.

"The blue guards," he repeated.
"Remember, last night there were
two guards, one on each side of the
door. They were tall men, dressed
ill blue. They're gone/'

They were gone. He found the
faint dust prints where they had
been standing. The men had disap-
peared. He stared at Granger.

"Could it have been Eve?"

Granger's face was red with anger.

"The people of Launn have been
still for centuries," he said.

"The insect men have made no at-
tempt to molest them. Draw your
own conclusions.**

IJRANDON started to run back to-
'^ ward the car where Jenny Hud-
son stood guard.

"If Eve really succeeded with the
injections,** he shouted as he ran,
"then more power to her. I hadn't
dared hope for success so soon. She
will probably return to the car at
once."

Granger was panting.

"To laugh at us,'* he offered. "Yes,
that would be Eve's first thought."

They slowed their pace as they
reached the park. Jenny Hudson
turning the barrel of the big gun on
them, was waiting for them to ap-
proach. Once they were within hear-
ing distance, Brandon shouted:

"Has Eve returned?**

Jenny shook her head.

"PeeWee came back ten minutes
ago,** she said. "He met a couple of
gents in blue pajamas and had to
shoot the daylights out of them.
They were going to murder my Pee-
Wee. He's gone toward the palace
to meet you. I told him you went
that way."

Brandon sv/ore softly.

"If I find that woman," he said
grimly under his breath.

John Granger sank to the grass
and lowered his gun.

"Pound the living daylights out
of her," he suggested. "I would my-
self, if I was sure I could handle her
—and that we*ll still find her alive.'*

Something exploded in the street,
far away, in the direction they had
come. It sent a strange, colorful rain-
bow of sparks above the tops of the
buildings. It sank down again, and
Launn was silent once more.

"PeeWee's found something," Jen-

AMAZING STORIES

nic cried excitedly. "He took a Bar-
ton* flare with him. Said if he used
it to come in a hurry."

Brandon reached the ramp on the
car with one long jump. Granger
was close behind. Before Granger
had time to close the door, Bran-
don had the rocket jets firing rapid-
ly. The car heaved loose from the
soft earth of the park and lunged
into the street. They gathered speed,
moving rapidly toward the spot
where the Barton flare had explod-
ed, Brandon shouted up through the
hatch to the gunroom.

"Get that gun ready, Jenny. You
may have to shoot your way through
to PeeWee.'*

He heard Jenny chuckle with
satisfaction and knew that she would
be ready. John Granger was busy
breaking out the ammunition for the
fire rifles.

rjVE GRANGER slipped quietly
*^ from the cot and tip-toed
through Jenny Hudson's tiny room,
into Les Brandon's laboratory. She
found the bag of injection needles
quickly, opened it to make sure they
were all there, then snapped the bag
closed again.

With it tightly under her arm she
made her way silently out of the
car. All was quiet. Launn, asleep,
was so quiet in the early morning
that it frightened her.

Her instructions were simple.

*'Stay with the party until you
reach Launn," Phillip Jordon had
told her that last night on earth.
"Steal Brandon's injection case. He
has only one set of needles. Meet
me in the palace."

He had leaned close to her then,

and with one arm about her waist,

said:

*Barton flare — colorful rescue rocket used
in Earth Rocket system.

**Don't be frightened, darling.
Your husband cannot harm you.
I'll be waiting in a room be-
low the palace. You will be met
by insect men. They are my friends
and you needn't fear them. They
will take you directly to me."

She knew that Phillip had fol-
lowed her all the way from Fitzroy.
He had left a note for her there,
hiding it cleverly in her compact
when she left it on the table in her
room.

'^Courage, beloved. A few more
days and we will be together."

Eve Granger loved Phillip Jordon.
Loved him because he was strong
and ugly and so full of cold courage
that nothing frightened him. She
looked back at the car once as she
left the park.

John Granger? Yes, she had
cared for him once. Cared for him
as a daughter did her father. Now
she knew what real love was. Knew
the strength in Jordon's arms. The
fierce impatience of the man. He
wasn't handsome as Brandon was
handsome, or kind as Granger. He
was an adventurer, fearing nothing.
A godless, powerful man. Phillip
Jordon was his own god.

She hurried, almost ran, toward
the palace. She cursed Brandon for
interfering last night. If it were not
for Brandon, she would have seen
Jordon then.

At the palace she didn't hesitate.
She went on into the throne room.
Her footsteps were loud against the
stone floor, and as it had last night,
the sound of her shoes against the
stone brought the green insect crea-
tures from their hiding places.

She felt herself grow taut and
frightened inside. She stood very
still while they moved about her,
coming close, but never quite dar-
ing to touch her body.

CITY OF THE DEAD

*Thillip," she called. Her voice
was loud and it echoed through the
chamber. "Phillip."

She heard him answer her.

"Coming— Don't be alarmsd."

The fear went out of her and in
its place, a new warmth flowed.

HE CAME from the shadowy hall
behind the throne. His arms
were around her and they embraced
as they had secretly at his apartment
so many weeks ago.
*'You brought the bag?'*
She looked up at the lean, eager
face, the hard lips, and worshipped
his strength. She held the bag of
injection needles out to him and he
took them eagerly.

"Good. We must hide soon, but
first, come with me..."

He walked swiftly toward the out-
er doors of the palace. As he walked,
he talked to her. The green insect
men scuttled along behind them,
making queer noises, leaving those
•green trails of slime behind them
on the floor. Phillip Jordon stopped
beside one of the dead guards and
put the bag on the floor.

"I must make sure," he said. "I'm
not sure Brandon has the right stuff.
He's clever— though— perhaps. ..?"

He slipped one of the needles
from the bag and held it in his slim,
bony fingers. He closed one eye and
stared through it at the clear, blue
liquid. Satisfied, he opened the cuff
of the shirt on the arm of one of
the guards. He pressed the needle
against the flesh, pushed brutally
and pressed the fluid into the arm.
Eve Granger caught her breath,
staring at him with fascination
**Do you think we have time?"
"I don't know," he said. "I'm wor-
ried about Granger. He'll follow us."
He continued to stare at the stiff
figure of the guard but no sign of
life was evident. He drew out an-

other needle, crossed the hall and
repeated the process on the arm of
the other guard.

Neither of them moved.

Jordon swore,

"They'll miss you by this time."

*'I did the best I could," she said,
and pouted. "Phillip, you're more in-
terested in those corpses than you
are in me."

He eyed her coolly.

"Did anyone ever tell you that
you're a damned little fool?" he
asked.

QTARTLED, she stepped back a
^ pace. Color mounted to her
cheeks.
"Phillipr

"You are," he said. "You think
you're the first woman who's ever
fallen for me? You're not. I'm just
different enough to draw every little
slut who wants to get rid of her
husband."

Her eyes flashed suddenly. Her
fists balled tightly.

"If you think...."

"I do," he said, and reaching out,
grasped her arm firmly. "I think I'm
leaving here before I'm discovered
and where I go. no woman will ever
follow. You fell for that sympathetic
love stuff on earth, and now you've
done exactly what I wanted you to
do. I have Brandon's needles, and
without them he hasn't a chance of
reviving the people of Launn. The
sepret of Sulphana is safe and my
work here is about over."

He twisted her arm slowly, bring-
ing her closer to him.

"Do you like my little pets, the
insect men?"

Eve Granger screamed then.
Screamed and fainted in his arms.
Jordon held her tightly, jerked off
the screw top of the empty injection
needle and filled it with one hand
from a bottle he took from his pock-

AMAZING STORIES

et. He replaced the cover quickly,
pushed the needle into her arm and
drained the tube.

He dropped the girl on the floor
and took a last look at the two guards
by the door. Life color was mounting
slowly in their cheeks.

He chuckled at the sight.

"The stuff is okay, Brandon," he
said to himself. "1*11 keep it, just in
case."

He went back along the hall into
the shadows and the insect men fol-
lowed him like sulking, snarling
dogs being led away from their prey.

The girl on the floor did not move.

pEEWEE Hudson was lumbering
*• toward them with all the speed he
could make. Over his shoulder was
the inert figure of Eve Granger and
behind him, as far as Brandon could
see, were hordes of insect men.

Brandon's eyes were on the still
figure of Eve Granger. Automatically
he threw the motors of the car into
reverse, backing slowly, waiting for
PeeWee to come alongside. He heard
Granger shout:

"Fire, Mrs. Hudson. For God*s
sake, fire over your husband's head,"

He heard Jenny :

"For Heaven's sake, Mr. Granger.
I never saw anything like. . ."

The rest of her sentence was
drowned out by the sinister sputter
of the fire cannon. Brandon opened
the door with one hand, watching the
insect men close in. They were
screaming with fright, dashing about
in the street to escape the flame that
showered them. Brandon heard Pee-
Wee curse as he kicked a half a doz-
en insect men away with his foot.
Then PeeWee and the girl were in
the car and the door was closed. Gran-
ger was firing as fast as he could re-
load the fire rifle. Jenny's cannon
was singing a song of death. Brandon
threw the car into reverse and they

shot back to the corner. He man-
euvered the machine swiftly, opened
the jets and guided the machine to-
ward the park.

They had rescued Eve Granger too
late. Her body was as stiff as any of
the people of Launn. She had re-
turned to them without the cane of
injection needls. His last chance
was gone, unless the needles cculd
be found.

He held no grudge against the girl
who lay on the floor. He knew that
she needed one of those needles her-
self, for her body was rigid as her
husband and PeeWee Hudson kneeled
beside her.

"Just like the stiffs here in Launn,"
he heard PeeWee whisper. "I could
feel her tighten up as I carried her."

He heard Granger, his head bent
over his wife's heart, weeping softly.
It was the first time Brandon had
seen a man cry, and it touched him
strangely.

The park was close and he drove
into it, stalling the motors. It was a
sad, desolate party of explorers who
now faced the Power without instru-
ments to save Launn.

'T»HE CAR was very quiet. Les
Brandon worked over crucibles
in the tiny laboratory. John Granger
sat alone with his books, trying to
read, perspiration standing out on
his forehead. Jenny Hudson was be-
side the bunk on which Eve Granger
lay, while PeeWee Hudson stood out-
side, staring toward the palace and
mumbling angrily under his breath.
Brandon stood up suddenly and came
through the low door into the sleep-
ing compartment. Jenny looked up.
"Did you find something?"
Brandon shook his head. He kneeled
beside the bunk and took Eve Gran-
ger's hand in his own.

It was cold, and the flesh was grow-
ing rigid. John Granger came in.

CITY OF THE DEAD

"Isn't there something we can do —
at once?"

Brandon said :

"I don't know. I found the hypo
mark on her neck. PeeWee says tht
insect men, as he calls them, had cap-
tured her when he mowed into
them with the fire rifle."

"Which means that they might have
used any of two dozen different in-
jections."

Brandon said:

"Yes ! Let's look at it this way. The
green men saw Eve inject shots into
the blue guards. Later, PeeWee shot
the guards, thinking they were go-
ing to attack him. The insect men
used the needle, just as they saw
Eve use it.

"Here's the problem. Eve is in a
coma. Her flesh is hardening. I don't
understand why, for the formulas I
prepared were based on chemicals to
soften the flesh and restore life. I
hadn't anticipated an accident of this
type, therefore I made no study of it.
I have only one possible explanation.
At least one of the needles contains
a useless formula. A formula which
kills instead of restoring life. I may
be able to revive her.

"It's necessary that we find that
bag of needles. Without them we're
helpless. In addition to that, Evt
found a formula that works on the
people of Launn. It will save a lot of
time if we are able to get those empty
tubes back. If we can determine which
one she used."

John Granger was silent for some
time. Then he turned to stare down at
the still, white face of his wife.

"Heart action stopped, suspended
as though in death. Brandon, I don't
know. It was her fault, yet, somehow
I can't blame her."

Brandon shook his head.
"Would it make you feel any bet-
ter if I said that I feel the same
way?"

Granger looked up with kind,
steady eyes.

"It would," he said.

"Look here, John," Brandon said
suddenly, "Eve's headstrong and in-
clined to be spoiled. That's why it
hurt like the devil when she took
her bad temper out on me. I've spent
years behind books and test tubes.
Eve loves a good time and adven-
ture. Because I'm not her idea of
an exciting type, she's taking her
spite out on me."

Granger nodded.

"I know."

"Understand me," Brandon went
on, "Eve and I will never get along.
I'm going to try every way I know
to save her. After that, I'm going to
clear out of Launn and leave the
field to you and Eve. You and I
will never make a team as long as
Eve feels as she does. As for me,
well," he shrugged, "I can't take it,
not the way she dishes it out."

He pivoted abruptly and went into
the laboratory. The door closed be-
hind him. For a long time, Jenny
Hudscm stared down at the quiet
face of the girl in the bunk. She
heard Granger leave the room. Jen-
ny wasn't soft, she kept telling her-
self. Yet, she had to reach up oc-
casionally and brush a tear from her
eye. It made her angry at herself to
express such emotion.

nPHE THREE men stood in the
•*■ darkened throne room of the
palace of Launn.

Granger said:

"I have never dared explore the
palace beyond this room. It is here
that the insect men lurk constantly.
I believe that they have tunneled
into the palace from below the city,
and use the palace as their head
quarters."

"Good," Brandon said. "Now— it
seems to me that at any disturbancei

AMAZING STORIES

they make their appearance here in
this room before they are seen any-
where else. PeeWee, can you hold
them off?"

Hudson grinned. He patted the
barrel of the fire gun.

"Bring on the green goblins," he
said. "I'll take care of 'em."

"Behind the door, then," Brandon
said. "Give Granger and me time to
get clear, then open fire."

Hudson took his position behind
the heavy door.

Brandon and Granger moved
across the room, behind the throne
and down a short passageway deeper
into the palace. Suddenly Brandon
stopped in his tracks and shouted.

"PeeWeer

Hudson answered him.

"Fm still here."

That was what Brandon wanted.
Their voices echoed throughout the
palace. Brandon stood very still.
Sounds came from beneath them, as
though giant rats were running
around below the floor. Then from
the shadows at the far end of the
hall, an ugly yellow face appeared.
It was followed quickly by another.
The insect men seemed to scuttle
out of nowhere, like giant, repulsive
roaches, their odd voices filling the
place with screams.

Brandon started to run back into
the throne room. Granger was at his
side. When they reached the room,
they both stepped quickly out of
range of Hudson's gun. Hudson's
fire rifle started to roar a persistent
song of death.

Granger's hand was on Brandon's
arm.

"Come — quickly," he said.

The insects were falling about
them. Hudson's gun continued to
spurt fire. The room was already
growing quiet once more.

T>RANDON led the way back along
•■^ the hall from the direction the
insect men had come. In the corner
he found a small door, still open,
that led downward. They hurried
through it. Hudson's gun was still
firing sporadically. The first wave
of insect men was dead, but per-
haps they would meet others.

Stairs led deep under the palace.
Then they came out into a dark hall
under the throne room. Brandon felt
his way along it silently. Granger
was close behind.

Thus far they met no interference.

They came out into a small room.
Sudden light blinded them. Light
that came down a long shaft from
above. Brandon stopped, his hand
over his eyes, at first, then gradual-
ly he could see.

*'Good Lordr

It was Granger who first ex-
pressed their amazement.

The room, though small, was fur-
nished beautifully with rich tapes-
try, and deep divans. Colorful tile
covered the walls and floor.

In the direct center was a dupli-
cate throne to the one above them.
On the throne sat the loveliest girl
Brandon had ever seen. Her long,
blue black hair hung like fine silk
around a white throat and over pale
shoulders. Her dress was of the fin-
est crimson silk and her lips were
like petals, as deeply colored as her
garment. She sat on a golden throne,
and no one could mistake her iden-
tity.

"The Princess of Launn," Granger
gasped. "I had not dreamed that she
existed. I thought I had found
everyone in this strange city. Yet,
she is here, hidden in this lost room,
waiting as the Prince waits above
us."

Brandon wasn't listening. He went
to his knees suddenly and picked up
an empty, broken hypodermic nee-

CITY OF THE DEAD

die, half hidden under the Princess*
long skirts.

He studied it for a moment, then
lifted the sleeve of the Princess'
dress very gently. There, inbedded
in the flesh of her right arm was
the broken needle.

He swore softly.

**lt those devils had succeeded in
bringing her to life,..?"

Something caught his attention
and he sank to the floor once more
and felt about under the throne.
Granger heard him gasp. Then he
reached far under the golden throne
and pulled something into the light.

It was the missing bag. He opened
it with shaking fingers and started
to count. Two needles were missing.
Eve, he thought, had used one. The
other was broken off in the Prin-
cess* arm. What of the third? The
one they had supposed had been
used on Eve. He stared up at Gran-

"At least we have a chance now,"
he said. "Perhaps we can save Eve."

"Not so fast, gentlemen," some-
one said coldly.

BRANDON, still kneeling, came to
his feet swiftly, whirling around.
He heard Granger catch his breath,
then he saw the tall, cadaverous
man at the door holding wicked
looking 'tomic-pistols in each hand,

"Phillip Jordon," Granger said in
a bewildered voice. "How...?"

"How did so civilized a person as
I manage to be so far from home?
Is that the general idea of what you
were going to ask?"

Jordon came into the room slowly,
his eyes almost satanic, ever watch-
ful.

Granger said no more.

"Ill tell you," Jordon said, "but
surely you don't want to stand here
to hear my explanation? It's a long-

winded affair, and if you'll follow
a few simple instructions, we'll find
a much more comfortable place in
which to talk over our desires and
ambitions."

He made an abrupt stabbing mo-
tion toward the door and his upper
lip curled slightly.
"Marchr

Brandon started to pick up his
bag.

"Leave the needles here," Jordon
snapped. "I was enjoying a most
interesting pastime when you in-
terfered. You unnerved me for a mo-
ment. In my clumsiness, I broke one
of the needles. Later, I'll work on
the lovely young woman with more
care. I'm interested in such a beauty
—alive."

Brandon put the bag on the floor
slowly.

"You're a coward, Jordon," he
said slowly. "You've got two guns
on your side now, but if we ever
meet with the cards evenly divided,
I'll..."

"Shut up," Jordon snapped. "Now
— march."

He followed them out of the room
and into the dark passage.

"Follow the wall with your fin-
gertips," he said. "It is quite a long
way to where we are going."

The three men moved slowly
along the wall. Brandon thought
once of trying to escape in the dark-
ness. When he halted Jordon said
harshly :

"Keep moving. I hear very well.
I can shoot at the slightest sound."
"Better wait," Granger whispered.
"We'll find out where Jordon fits
into this. Later— we may have a
chance. . ."

Jordon chuckled.

"You may as well talk aloud. Gran-
ger. I told you I can hear almost
anything."

AMAZING STORIES

The hall ended abruptly.

"Feel about until you find the
ring/' Jordon said. "It's a door. Pull
on the ring."

Brandon found the iron ring and
pulled it. The big door opened to-
ward him and beyond it was a well
lighted area, probably fifty feet
square, constructed of huge, rough-
hewn stone.

'In the far wall you'll see another
door," Jordon said. "That's where we
end the journey."

Watching them carefully, he pro-
duced a key, opened the second door
and motioned them inside.

/^RANGER went in first His
^^ eyes were wide with amazement,
but he remained silent. Brandon fol-
lowed, and after him, Jordon locked
the door from the inside.

"Nice little home here among the
dead," Jordon said. "I like to be
comfortable, as I must spend several
weeks each year in this ungodly
hole."

The place was large, and might
have been the living room of any
American home. The walls were in-
sulated and painted a neat blue-gray.
A huge desk occupied one corner of
the place. Beyond it, there were a
davenport, chair and small table.
There were glassware, a neat bed
made up with colorful blankets,
everything one man could wish for
comfortable living.

"As you see," Jordon said, *'there
is only room for one to live here.
Three of us could never do it, but
for a few minutes, you are welcome.
After that, I have something to
show you."

He moved to the desk and sat
down.

"You're feeling very clever and
sure of yourself," Brandon said.
"You've bathed yourself in mystery

and power and you love the feeling,'^

Jordon smiled.

"Sit down," he said.

He placed the pistols on the desk
before him.

"First, perhaps because as you
say, I like the feeling of power,
I'm going to share my mystery with
you."

"It has to do with Sulphana,
doesn't it," Brandon said. "Jordon,
the unsung king of the Sulphana
trust."

Jordon grinned.

"Hell," he said, enjoying himself
immensely, "I am Sulphana. I found
it, exploited it and let Weston in
as a silent partner. Sulphana Inc.
is just a front."

Brandon heard Granger gasp with
amazement. No wonder, he thought.
Weston posed as an honest research
worker and led a huge non-profit
organization. No wonder Weston
had thrown Granger out on his ear.

"Charles Weston wouldn't like to
hear you talk that way, Jordon," he
said gently. "Weston would be an-
gry."

Jordon frowned.

"To hell with Weston," he said
abruptly. "He's just a stooge. I could
break him over night. But back to
Sulphana. You're sitting on top of
the only Sulphana producing factory
in the planetary system."

Granger chuckled. He seemed to
regain much of the spirit that had
been looking for the past months.
Brandon thought it was because of
what Jordon said about Weston.

"There are no factories running in
Launn," he said. "Jordon, you aren't
that smart."

Jordon arose.

"Perhaps I'm not," he said. "We'll
see."

E MOVED to the center of the
room and went down on one

CITY OF THE DEAD

knee. Pushing aside the rug, he fum-
bled for an iron ring set in the
stone, and lifted a small round trap-
door.

"Look down there," he said, and
backed away a safe distance.

Brandon went first. He was care-
ful not to get too close to the door.
He stared down into a vast, semi-
twilight. It was a lower cavern, and
the floor of it, as far as he could
sec was covered with crawling in-
sect people. He shuddered at the
thought of being pushed down into
that mess. The cavern was packed
with them, crawling over and over
each other. Then his eye saw one
detail that had escaped his first
glance.

Directly below him, at the foot of
m long iron ladder was a pile of
what appeared to be pure Sulphana.

He moved aside and let Granger
look at the scene. He stood up and
waited for Jordon to explain.

"You once said in a report of
yours," Jordon said, "that Sulphana
couldn't be broken down into known
chemical units. You were right,
Brandon, when you claimed it was
a natural product of an animal or
plant. That hive of insect people is
like a hive of bees. They give off a
green slime. When the slime hard-
ens, it grows powdery. The dust is
Sulphana, the greatest healer ever
discovered."

Granger was still studying the
scene below.

"But how did you find...?"

"Simple," Jordon said. "Sulphana
first came to Fitzroy when I was
there on a tour of the planet. I ex-
perimented with it and recognized
its value. I found an old Burtell
caravan master who knew where it
came from. He said the natives of
the Plain of Parna used it in curing
their Burtells when they were in-

fected or wounded. He found the
stuff in a storage vat here in Launn.
"When I came here the first time,
some years before your first visit,
I stumbled onto the insect men. The
slime they secreted during their
battle with me hardens and I dis-
covered the source of Sulphana.
Later, I traced them here and
found the main body of workers in
the cavern below. When Launn was
alive, this must have been a great
industry,

"I found that by wearing a metal-
lic suit, I could go down there with-
out fear of them harming me. Their
teeth are not long or sharp. Their
stingers cannot penetrate metal.

"Weston backed me and we went
to work, quietly. That's the story,
gentlemen, and I regret that you
can't make use of it."

Brandon stood very still, his Jaw
grim.

"Perhaps we can," he said.

Somewhere outside the room a
scream of a returning insect man
sounded.

"I think not," Jordon said swift-
ly. "Wait — I must see if one of my
pets has been harmed. They've
grown quite fond of me — and I of
them."

He pushed the door open.

"Look out, you knock kneed son-
uv-a-tadpoler

PVEN BRANDON was taken off
*^ guard by PeeWee Hudson's bat-
tle cry, as the huge ex-janitor came
through the door in approved tackle
style. He hit Jordon below the knees
and sent him sprawling. One of Jor-
don's guns flew from his hands and
hit the wall. He managed to fire the
other and it tore a gapping hole in
the wall near Brandon's shoulder.
"Think I can't imitate one of the
green heathens, do you," Hudson

AMAZING STORIES

shouted. "Take it easy with them
guns."

He had Jordon by the coat collar
now and was lifting him clear of
the floor. He wrenched the other
gun from Jordon's hand and tossed
it to Granger.

"Better keep this, Mr. Granger,"
he said. "Maybe next time I won't
be lucky enough to get here in
time."

The picture of Jordon, hanging
two inches from the floor at the end
of Hudson's huge arm, was suddenly
very funny to Brandon. So much had
happened. In ten minutes, so
many things had become clear. Jor-
don, first so dangerous and sure of
himself, looked like a dilapidated,
sputtering clown.

Brandon started to laugh.
"Good Lord," he said. "Let's get
out of here before we all go crazy.
We've learned enough for one day."
"I wonder," Granger said thought-
fully. "I wonder if we can learn
enough. Now that we know the is-
sues at stake, the battle is just be-
ginning."

"The Melform injection fluid was
in both tubes," Brandon said. "That
means that, regardless of what
caused the deaths of the population,
Melform will bring them back to
life. Melform was used on both the
blue guards. Jordon used a paralysis
fluid on Eve. That had me fooled."
John Granger listened attentively.
His was not medical knowledge. He
was in charge of research work,
when and if Launn was restored to
life. Now, as they sat together in
Brandon's compartment. Granger's
face was gray and lined with worry.
They had both agreed that the work
must go on. That Eve stood a
chance of recovery, and even now
had been treated carefully and
placed in Jenny's care.

"Then I say that we should set
up the laboratory in the square be-
fore the palace," Granger suggest-
ed. "As men and women are re-
vived, we will attempt to explain
what we are doing and solicit their
help. In a short time, if all goes
well, we can establish a large clin-
ic."

"Fortunately," Brandon added,
"Melform can be made from a high-
ly concentrated drug I have brought
in large quantities. It is one of the
simplest of all the types. The the-
ory is to soften the body and stimu-
late circulation."

pEEWEE HUDSON came from
*• his post at the far side of the
car. His face was grim and the fire
rifle he had used so often was still
clutched tightly in his hands.

"The green goblins don't want to
fight," he said. "What do we do
now?"

Brandon explained the situation
and the plan to establish a clinic.
Hudson nodded delightedly.

"Let's get started," he suggested.
"Once we get a bunch of these
Launn people on their feet, we'll
have an army to fight those green
hob-goblins. They ain't done with
us yet."

Jenny stuck her head out of the
upper door and shouted excitedly:

"That Melform stuff seems to be
working. Mrs. Granger is beginning
to breathe."

They rushed into the car and
Brandon spent a bad five minutes
with Eve Granger. The heart beat
was very slow at first, staggering,
and at times stopping completely.
Then color started to show in her
cheeks. The flesh of her arms soft-
ened and grew pink. Her eyes
opened.

She saw John Granger, her hus-
band, first, his worried eyes on her.

CITY OF THE DEAD

Tears started to course slowly down
her cheeks and she tried to speak.

He pressed his fingers to her fore-
head.

"It's all right now" he said.
"You're going to be all right. You're
safe in the car."

Her lips moved.

He leaned close, trying to under-
stand her words. She was trying des-
perately to say something to him and
at last he could hear her faint whis-
per.

"I'm— I'm sorry. I've been an
awful fool."

Granger leaned close and kissed
her gently on the cheek. There was
no mistaking the flood of color that
tinged her face. Granger looked up.
There was a suggestion of a smile
on Brandon's lips.

nnHE PRINCE of Launn lay on a
•*• stretcher under the warmth of
the afternoon sun. The square was
large, and the car, with the stretch-
er at its side, looked very small and
unimportant in the center of so vast
a place.

PeeWee was in the upper com-
partment, his hand on the barrel of
the fire cannon. Eve Granger, still
weak, lay where she could look out
the window and down at the scene
below.

Brandon, in his white frock, drew
a sterilized needle from the steril-
izer, pressed the needle to the arm
of the Prince and pressed gently. He
released the fluid into the dead arm,
withdrew the needle, covered the
tiny spot with a sterilized bandage
and straightened. He stared across
the stretcher at John Granger.

«Now— time will tell."

Launn seemed even more silent in
those moments. Brandon's wrist
watch ticked so loudly that he could
count the seconds. Granger walked

a short distance away, returned and
placed his fingers on the Prince's
pulse. He shook his head.

"The mixture may not work the
same in all cases."

Brandon shook his head.

"It has to," he insisted. "What-
ever happened to one, must have
happened to them all. The results
would be the same."

Three minutes passed — then four.
Jenny, at Eve Granger's side, stared
out of the window with wide eyes.
PeeWee was leaning out the open
hatchway above, the cannon forgot-
ten. Then something moved gently
on the stretcher. The wind? It
could not be. The square was still.
No breeze stirred.

"His fingers," John Granger said
tensely. "Watch his fingers."

Brandon smiled.

"I noticed," he said.

"He's — alive," Granger said tense-

ly-

The fingers, then the entire right
arm moved, flexed and bent at the
elbow. The man's eyes opened and
stared upward. Blank amazement
was in those eyes, then came fear,
so pathetic that Brandon pitied the
Prince from the bottom of his heart.

"You're going to be all right," he
said quietly and placed his palm on
the Prince's forehead. The man
flinched. His neck muscles were
working. He turned hii head and
tried to get escape from Brandon's
hand. The body came alive. The
Prince moved about on the stretch-
er.

"Walla," he said.

Brandon looked at Granger.

"Have you any system for the
study of their language?"

Granger shook his head.

"None," he admitted. "We have no
way of knowing how many centuries
the city dates back into time."

AMAZING STORIES

1>RAND0N waited. The Prince sat
^ up weakly, leaning on one el-
bow. He stared about at the deserted
city, then at the two men. He seemed
very puzzled at their presence.

"Walla?** he repeated.

Brandon shook his head-

"Can*t understand you/' he said.
''Sorry.*'

He went into the car and came
back with a bowl of Jenny's soup.
He took a spoonful and held it to
the Prince's lips. The Prince hesi-
• -ted, then let the hot broth slip
down his throat. A broad smile
transformed his handsome face.

'*Goot."

"That was evident enough," Gran-
ger said happily. "Goot — Goodr-
close enough to guess at."

The Prince sat up. He started to
struggle to his feet, and then fell
back. His own weakness seemed to
amaze him. Brandon helped him up.
The Prince seemed to be trying to
get back into the palace. Both Gran-
ger and Brandon helped him, and
PeeWee Hudson stayed with the
car. In the throne room, the Prince
continued to stare around, puzzled,
impatient with the silence.

He turned to Brandon and re-
leased a flood of odd, tangled words.
Brandon shook his head again and
the Prince seemed to know what he
meant. Fie motioned tov/ard the long
passageway that went toward the
rear of the palace. Stronger now,
he carried himself well, and Bran-
don was forced to admit that the
man was one of the finest specimens
he had ever seen.

They came to a small, metal stud-
ded door and the Prince reached be-
neath his robe and brought out a
small key. He inserted it into a lock
and pushed the door open. Brandon
gasped.

"A laboratory/* he said in a low

voice. "More complete than our
own/*

The small room was well lighted
from above. The Prince crossed the
room and halted before a cabinet.
He opened the door and tried to
push Granger inside. Granger got
the idea. He sat down and the Prince
closed the door. He turned and
smiled at Brandon in a reassuring
manner. Then he pressed down a
number of levers on the side of the
cabinet and spoke into a mouth-
piece on the door.

'y^HROUGH the crystal door Bran-
"^ don saw Granger smile. Bran-
don knew what it was all about. The
Prince was talking rapidly. Final-
ly he stopped and Brandon could
see Granger's lips moving. He
v/atched the Prince's face. First it
expressed only bewilderment. Then
gradually, terror once more. At last
he made odd little gestures with his
hand, as though he had given up try-
ing to understand. He opened the
door and Granger came out.

"He's unable to grasp what has
happened/* Granger said. "He says
he fell asleep yesterday on his
throne and today he awakens to find
two strange people near him. He
demands an explanation. I told him
that he's been asleep for thousands
of years and it seems to frighten
him half to death. See how far you
can get with the man/*

It was obvious that the cabinet
was a language translator, of a far
advanced design over the simple
types used on earth. Brandon re-
signed himself to the machine. The
door closed and he started through
the crystal door to the Prince. The
Prince*s voice, transcribed and
changed by the machine, produced
pleasing, gentle English speech.

"Your colleague — tells — a strange
—story. Tell me— the truth. Tell—

CITY OF THE DEAD

me why you— have come to Launn.
Where are my people?"

Brandon tried to speak simply. He
knew that the lesson the Prince must
learn would be a hard one.

"Listen to me," he said. "This is
the year of 2024. Many years ago a
legend reached Martian cities that a
strange place existed at the far rim
of the Plain of Parna. The city, it
was called Launn, was supposed to
be full of dead people."

He was watching the Prince close-
ly. The man*s lips were repeating
his words. His eyes were on Bran-
don.

**No man had the courage to enter
the dead city," Brandon went on.
"At last my colleague and I came
with drugs to release you and your
people. You are quite safe now, and
it is only a matter of time before the
remainder of your city will be freed
from death."

The Prince shook his head impa-
tiently.

"I am sorry," he said. "I do not
believe. Launn is very much alive.
If what you say is true, I would
have slept for ten thousand years."

He frowned.

**That would be impossible. I shall
be forced to call the guards. To im-
prison you until further investiga-
tion."

Brandon couldn't blame him for
feeling as he did. Memories could
not live while a man lay dead. To-
day would be but one day removed
from the hour that the Prince fell
asleep. Evidently he remembered
nothing of what had happened.

*'I ask for one favor," Brandon
said. "First, you cannot call the
guards for they are as stiff as you
were a half hour ago. I don't ask you
to believe. Let me out of the box. I
will convince you."

A NGER showed on the Prince's
face. He opened the door quick-
ly and Brandon came out. Brandon
led him from the room and down to
the hidden door through which he
and Granger had gone to find the
lovely girl in the room below the
palace. He went down the steps
swiftly, the Prince behind him.

He pushed the door open and went
into the presence of the dead Prin-
cess. The Prince pushed him rough-
ly aside and with an anguished sob,
fell on his knees before the Prin-
cess. His hands sought hers, and
came away slowly. He shook her
gently by the shoulders, but the
body remained still and cold.

Sobs shook his body. He still did
not understand that a few minutes
before, he had resembled the Prin-
cess. That she could be revived as he
had been.

Brandon stepped forward and put
his hand on the Prince's shoulder.
He motioned toward the girl, then
put his arm around her waist and
started to lift her. The Prince un-
derstood. He pushed Brandon aside
and lifted the girl in his arms. He
turned and carried her up the stairs
and out into the square. When she
had been deposited on the stretcher,
he straightened, turned to Brandon
and motioned in a manner to indi-
cate that Brandon had charge. He
stepped away a few paces and
watched as the hypot were pre-
pared. Never had Brandon seen a
man with such a combination of fear
and pride etched on his face.

W A ND THAT is the story of
what has happened on Mars
and on Earth since, according to
your figures, the city of Launn
ceased to live."

Brandon stopped talking for a mo-
ment, studying the faces of the

AMAZING STORIES

Prince and Princess through the
crystal glass of the language trans-
lator cabinet. He was warm and un-
comfortable in the small box. It had
been removed from the laboratory
and placed before the thrones in the
throne room. Both the Prince and
the lovely girl of the hidden cham-
ber sat before him, listening atten-
tively.

"You say that there is no explana-
tion for what happened to us?"

It was the Prince who spoke, fi-
nally convinced that the story of
Launn was true.

Brandon shook his head.
"None/' he said, ^'unless you can
offer one."

The Prince shook his head.
"None," he repeated. He turned
to look at the girl. Her hair and
eyes were dark and alive. She was,
Brandon thought, one of the most
charming little imps he had ever

seen.

"My sister and I," the Prince said,
"are grateful to you both. We will
try to reward you as you deserve.
Now, let me tell you what I know.
It would be ten centuries ago that
my father, King Fanta, established
his Kingdom here. He chose an iso-
lated spot where his people could
dwell without outside interference.
Fanta brought the finest builders,
scientists and men of all crafts here
from throughout the solor system.
We were not troubled by war or by
petty bargaining. All our time was
spent developing a perfect civiliza-
tion."

He sighed.

"Fanta died, and the City of
Launn passed into our care. My sis-
ter's name is Fawn, named for the
graceful creatures who once roamed
in our parks."

Fawn blushed prettily.

"I am Barbie," the Prince said. "I

carried on as my father wished.
Never did Launn contact the out-
side. Never did our people grow
restless. If we prospered and went
far beyond other cities in scientific
research, it was because we contact-
ed no one, fought with no one and
spent our days in bettering every-
thing that we owned." ^^
"And a wonderful job you did,
Brandon said with enthusiasm. "Yet,
during all this conversation, you've
never once mentioned anything to
give us a clue to what happened on
that day that the people of Launn
ceased to breathe."

PRINCE BARBIC shook his head.
Suddenly he looked tired.
"I have no explanation," he admit-
ted. 'It is like yesterday, and I re-
member it well. I sat on the throne,
musing over the day's accomplish-
ments. Fawn was in her private
room below, a place where she often
rested. I thought of her, and of my
people and what Launn had done to
make them happy. I must have fall-
en asleep. When I awakened again,
I was lying in the square, looking
up at men I had never seen before."
Fawn nodded.

"I also experienced the same sen-
sation." Her voice was low. "I
awakened, to look at," she blushed
and pointed a small finger at Bran-
don, yon."
Brandon said:

"There is a plan to be carried out.
You will help us revive members of
your city. As they are awakened,
you will explain what happened and
enlist their help. My friend, John
Granger has charted the location of
every citizen of Launn.

"With his help, as people awaken,
they will bring others. The square
will serve as clinic. There are over
six million souls to be awakened. It
will be a long job."

CITY OF TH£ DEAD

Prince Barbie arose. Tears shone in
his eyes. He came down from the

throne.

"Although you are unable to under-
stand me when you are not in the
machine, I express my deepest grat-
itude."

His voice broke.

Brandon understood. So did
Granger. Brandon gripped Barbie's
hand tightly. They went arm in arm
out into the square.
rjVE GRANGER sincerely thought

she hated Phillip Jordon during
those days immediately after Brandon
saved her from the paralysis drug.
Then, remembering him as he had
been on earth, she began to wonder
if she should help Jordon escape from
the cell he had been thrown intfl by
Prince Barbie. Eve Granger knew
Jordon well. Had known him long
before she met her present husband.
Knew that Jordon would be grateful,
and perhaps forgiving.

As Launn changed slowly into a
pulsing, living city, she had time to
be alone and to plot Jordon's release.
She found it impossible to look at her
husband with anything but pity. He
was old, it seemed to her. She, in her
youth, demanded more from life than
he could give.

Today, one of the rare moments
when Launn was a dark, gloomy place
and a mountain storm hung over the
city, she had ample time to carry out
her half-formed plan. Granger and
Brandon were at the palace with
Prince Barbie. Eve's lip curled as she
sat in the lounge of the car, the for-
gotten book on her lap. Brandon liked
the palace very well, lately. Fawn,
Barbie's sister, was a very attractive

girl.

Eve felt a tinge of jealousy creep
through her. Brandon had been inter-
ested in her at first. She was quite
sure of that. She had spoiled it with

her own sharp tongue.

Jordon was her only chance now.
Her only opportunity to escape this
new, strange world and return to the
luxuries of earth.

She stood up abruptly, let the booK
fall to the floor, and went into her
sleeping room. John Granger had
wanted to accept Barbie's invitation
and take quarters at the palace. She
had refused to go. She liked the car.
Here, she was the mistress of the
house. She couldn't see Fawn every
day and not remember that her own
loveliness was beginning to desert
her. It made her feel old.

She dressed quickly in whipcoards
and boots. It wouldn't be difficult to
see Phillip Jordon. She had been into
the prison often with Barbie and
John. The guards would admit her.
She slipped a small fire pistol under
her leather tunic and left the car. At
the palace she avoided the main en-
trance and sought the metal door
near the rear of the establishment.
This was the direct entrance to the
cells beneath the palace.

A guard smiled happily because she

had chosen to honor him with a visit.

He escorted her to Jordon's cell, the

only one occupied at the present time.

She waited while he opened the

door.

"Thank you very much," she smilea

at him sweetly.

The guard couldn't understand a
word. He smiled profusely and
backed away.

Jordon was at the door in a second.
"Welcome," Jordon said. "I hardly
expected you here."

He took the pistol she offered him.
"I— I had to help," she said. A slow
fear welled up within her.

Jordon said, "They'll punish you
for this if they catch you."

^HE PIVOTED to face him. Her
cheeks flushed.

AMAZING STORIES

''Phillip, I forgive you for what you
did the other day. I had to come. I
love you. Don't you understand?"

She threw herself into his arms,
sobbing.

"Don't leave me here. Take me with
you. That's why I came. I had to
escape. I can't stand. .."

He pushed her away from him cool-

''You know damned well I can't
leave here now."
"Can't— leave..?"
He swore softly.

"You'll never understand me," he
said. *lt isn't that I don^t enjoy your
company. I simply don't live a life
that you can endure. I must protect
my interests here. The Sulphana sup-
ply has been cut off since I've been
in that damned cell. Burtell caravans
wait outside the city for my signal to
enter and load up. Since Launn be-
came a living city again, they've been
waiting patiently for my orders. At
least, I hope they are still waiting.

"The Foundation and Weston are
going crazy waiting for imformation
from me. We've got to start the flow
of Sulphana again."
"But— how?"
Jordon looked grim.
"By destroying every last inhabi-
tant in this city, if it proves neces-
sary."

Eve Granger looked nervously
dov/n the long deserted hall.

"We'd better get out of here now
while we can," she said. "Later— we
can plan."

Jordon looked amazed.

"You're still willing to go with me
— v/illing to live like an animal and
fight side by side with those loath-
some things in the caverns, just for
my companionship?"

She nodded resolutely.

"Wherever you go," she said.

He grasped her by the shoulders
and drew her to him roughly.

Her eyes were shining,
"Then I can go?"
"To hell— if I end up there," he
said. "Come on."

gRANDON left the dining hall
quietly, thinking that he had
evaded the attention of Barbie and
John Granger who had been discuss-
ing the culture of early Launn when
he left. Granger and Barbie were so
happy at striking upon a simple, uni-
versal language that they talked like
small boys, without thought of stop-
ping.

Brandon wasn't aware of the sly
smiles they gave each other as he
wandered purposefully out to the
terrace.

He saw the slim, silver clad figure
of Fawn at the far end of the terrace
and hurried toward her. She pretended
not to notice him as he approached,
and turned with startled, pleased eyes
as he spoke to her.
"Oh ! I did not hear you approach."
V/onderful, he thought, how this
girl and her brother have learned En-
glish in so short a time. Granger had
done the job with the language trans-
lator. It was a matter of close atten-
tion and lip reading. Now she spoke
as well as Eve Granger, but with a
little lilt in her voice that was her
ov/n.

"I'm sorry I frightened you," he
said. **I planned to start work on the
defense system tomorrow. I wondered
if you'd care to accompany me to the
laboratories."

She smiled happily. Each v/as new
at this game of hearts. Each hesitant
and unsure.

"I'd be very happy."

She made the simple word 'happy*
sound like a description of Heaven.

"Good," he said. ''I'll call for you
in the morning. I hope it won't bore
you."

She leaned back against the broad

CITY OF THE DEAD

wall of the terrace and smiled up at
him.

"Fm afraid I do not know how to
say it, Mister Brandon/* she said hes-
itantly, "but I am never bored when
I am with you. Perhaps I talk too
much. My brother says I talk all the
time. When I have something inside
of me, I say it."

Brandon's face turned slightly
pink.

"That's the way it should be," he
said. He felt like a high school boy
on his first date. Eve Granger had
been the first woman who ever upset
his sense of balance. Fawn did a much
more thorough job of it. The faint
odor of her perfume in the darkness —
the silver gown, trailing about her.
"I'm — Fm that way myself."

She stepped close to him.

"Then why don't you say it?"

He gulped and remained silent. He
imagined a fish might feel this way
when drawn out into the air.

"What I meant was that it was only
a short time ago, I awakened and
looked up at you," Fawn was saying.
He didn't hear all of her words. He
was vv^atching her face. The full lips
' forming into words— the sparkling,
mischievous eyes. "I told Barbie then
that I wanted you for my husband.
Barbie threatened to spank me for
saying it, but, I still think I should
say what is inside me. Don't you,
Mister Brandon?"

I^RANDON felt as though rockets
*^ were going off inside his head.
This was the first time he had gath-
ered nerve enough to see the girl
alone, and he had hoped to tell her
that she was lovely. Now he was lis-
tening to a proposal of marriage.

He stopped abruptly and took her
in his arms.

Minutes later, she drew away from
him gently and tossed her hair back

from her face. Her cheeks were
flushed and happy.

''I think," she said in a teasing
voice, "that Mister PeeWee Hudson
would call that the direct approach,
don't you — Les?"

Brandon didn't answer. He took her
in his arms again.

JOHN GRANGER came into the
laboratory quickly. He hurried
down the long line of white frocked
workers and stopped at Brandon's
table.

"Les, we've got hell to pay. Eve is
gone. Jordon has escaped.

Brandon came to his feet, the high
stool hitting the floor behind him.

"Escaped? But how?"

Granger's eyes were hard. His jaw
was set.

"I said Eve was gone,"

Brandon thought he understood.
He couldn't say so.

'1 don't see the connection," he
said.

Granger's eyes didn't falter from

his.

"I'm no fool, Les. I may be old, but
not an old fool. Eve has been after
Jordon for years. I knew that. I sus-
pect she was with Jordon during
those first days in Launn. For some
reason, he got rid of her. Now she's
helped him escape and has gone with
him."

Brandon didn't try to argue. In his
heart he knew that Granger was right.

"Where do you think they'll go?"

Granger, now that the worst was
told, looked very tired. He slumped
on a chair.

"I'm sure of just one thing," he
admitted. "Jordon won't leave Launn.
His interests are tied up here. He'll
try to destroy us in some way. He'll
get back his control over Sulphana,
or die trying."

"Barbie has the insect men under

AMAZING STORIES

control/' Brandon said. "Launn has
been deserted for a long time. There
may be more colonies of the crea-
tures. If Jordon were to release
them. ./'

"They'd cause a lot of trouble,"
Granger said. "Have we anything to
defend ourselves? Can we fight
them?"

Brandon shook his head.
"I'm not sure," he said. "Barbie
said Launn never fought a war dur-
ing its earlier existence. I expected
an attack by the insect people sooner
or later. I've been working here on a
gas that could be used to keep the
insect people quiet. It dopes them so
that they go on living and producing,
but do not have the will to fight."

"It's not the insect people that I'm
worried about," Granger admitted,
"so much ao I am Jordon himself. He
can't enlist help from earth because
it would give away the location of
his Sulphana source and bring the
v/hole deal to light. He'll try to fight
alone, and Jordon fighting alone
isn't a pretty picture to conjure up."
"Poison?" Brandon asked.
"Poison and sabotage of the lowest
type. Jordon fought during the
Sparta uprising on Venus. He has a
reputation for using any means to
reach his end. Killed off an entire
city once by placing Gangus-fungus
in the water supply."

Brandon started for the door.
"I've got to see Barbie," he said.
"We'll have to take every possible
precaution."

Granger was close behind him.

"Then what?"

Brandon stopped and turned short-

"Then I'm going to find Jordon."

^^TORDON'S hiding somewhere un-
J der the palace," Brandon said.

"I'm sure oJF that. I imagine he has
tunnels that lead to the edge of the
city. Probably the place is honey-
combed v/ith the things."

He stood patiently while Granger
helped adjust the mask over his face
and clamp down the light helmet

"The suit was used by divers who
cleaned the water supply tanks,"
Prince Barbie offered. "It's construct-
ed of light but very tough metalura.
It should protect you from the in
sect people."

The ro^om was very quiet for a mo-
ment. Granger busied himself with
the last adjustment on the knee-
joints. Barbie wandered to the win-
dow and stared down at the peaceful
city.

"I feel like a knight," Brandon said
sourly. "Going off to fight for my
lady. Only I'm going down into the
tunnels to look for a rat."
Granger straightened.
"See here, Brandon, I. . ."
"It's no use, John," Brandon said,
suddenly sober. "This is a one man
job. There is only one suit, and I
don't need help with Jordon. Once I
find him..."

"It seems very odd," Barbie said
from the window, "that so peaceful
a city could be threatened. There is
the man, Jordon, and another terri-
ble threat we have not discussed late-
ly."

Granger stared at Brandon.
"The Power," he said. "We've got
to do something about that."

Brandon smiled a little grimly be-
hind the glassine mask.

"I think I have a clue to the
Power," he said. "There's no imme-
diate danger if I'm correct. We'll
find Jordon, then."
Granger was puzzled.
"You've found out what the Power
is?"

Brandon nodded.

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "It all

CITY OF THE DEAD

has to do with a very terrible tragedy
that occured on earth centuries ago.
This is but a repeat performance. I
think that it can be avoided if we
can escape it in time."

They would have questioned him
further if Fawn had not entered the
room. She saw Brandon in the odd
looking suit and rushed to him. Her
eyes v/ere filled with anxiety.

'*A courier told me,'* she said, "you
go after Jordon?"

Brandon nodded.

"I'll be back soon," he said.

Barbie, trying to comfort his sister,
came to their side.

"He says he is a knight going to
fight for his lady. Is his lady proud
of him?"

Fawn's shoulders straightened and
a smile came out like the sun on her
pale face.

"Very— very— proud," she said and
on tip-toe, kissed the glassine mask
that covered Brandon's face.

"And now," Granger said quietly, "I
think it best that I go alone with
Brandon to the cellars beneath, the
palace. I will leave him in the tunnel.
We must be very quiet."

'T'HE CAVERN room above the in-
sect colony was deserted. How-
ever, to Brandon, it betrayed the fact
that Jordon had come this way. Eve
had been here, for he could smell her
faint perfume in the room. He
searched the room carefully, and
found an empty chest. Almost empty,
for at the bottom was a small mask
with a tight rubber band that was
evidently meant to hold it on the
face. The mask was metal, a type cf
nose guard used by earth-men who
fought in the Spear wars. He guessed
that the chest had contained complete
suits of armor of the Spear War type,
and that the mask had been forgotten
or purposely left behind. To back up
his theory, the only way out of the

room, other than back in the direc-
tion he had come, was through the
trap-door in the floor.

He lifted and found the iron ladder.
It was a matter of seconds before he
stood on the floor of the cavern be-
low, surrounded by the repulsive in-
sect people.

He steeled himself against the sight
of them, and felt their teeth grate
against the metal of his suit and slide
off.

At first they came close, sniffing
and biting at him. Then apparently
satisfied that they could do no harm,
they went about their business.

He stared about the strange "hive".
It was probably two hundred feet
long cut out of solid rock. At the far
end was a dark hole in the wall. A
tunnel leading from the hive.

He made his way toward it, stum-
bling over the creatures and falling
among them. In the tunnel he moved
forward, feeling his way. He must
have walked a mile through the wind-
ing chamber v/hen he saw light ahead
once more.

This time it was the light of the
desert, and he came out on a small
ridge some distance outside of Launn.

The cave was hidden by rough cac-
tus growths, and below in a little val-
ley were dozens of small, scrubby
looking Burtells, their shaggy ears
sticking straight into the air, their
ugly, six toed feet planted patiently
in the hot sand.

Near the far end of the valley was
a large tent and men were going into
it.

Jordons temporary office, he
thought, and sat down in the sand at
the mouth of the cave where he could
watch the tent and whoever came
from it.

A half hour passed and a girl came
out, slipped a desert shield over her
head and came toward him.

Eve Granger, he thought grimly.

AMAZING STORIES

She was intent on reaching the
coolness of the cave, and he watched
her climb the little ridge and come
toward him.

TTE SLIPPED out of sight behind
•*■'*■ an outcropping of rock and wait-
ed. The girl came into the cave. She
was no more than six feet from him.
He v/aitcd until she sat down, her
back to the rock, her eyes on the
scene below. Then swiftly he slipped
up behind her, held her with one arm
firmly around her neck and gagged
her with her scarf.

She struggled vainly, kicking,
scratching and trying to cry out.
Grimly he held on until she subsided
and lay quietly in his arms.

"Listen to me," Brandon said. "This
time it isn't a game. I'm playing for
keeps. I'll kill you if you cause me
any trouble."

She nodded, and he could see fear
in her eyes.

"You're going back," he said. "J^^^
can do what he wants to with you,
but you're going back. Do you under-
stand?"

She stared at the ground, sulking,
refusing to acknowledge him.

"I don't want you," he said. "I want
Jordon. Is he coming back this way?"

No answer. Brandon was growing
impatient.

"You'd better talk. Eve. You've
done enough already. If any harm
comes to Launn because of you,
you'll be punished like any other
criminal. Why don't you be sensible.
Jordon is hard. He doesn't want you.
He wants Launn for himself."

He was bluffing, but he saw that
his words made an impression on her.

"Aren't you smart enough to know
that your usefulness to Jordon is
over?"

She looked up at him suddenly,
appealingly, as though she wanted to
speak.

"Do you know Jordon's plan?" he
asked.

She nodded, and he could see that
he had guessed right about Jordon.
He was tired of Eve, and she knew it.

"If you'll promise to be quiet, I'll
take the gag froxTi your mouth."

She nodded again, and he released
it. She was breathless.

"Les — I've been a fool— an ungrate-
ful one at that."

CITHER she was a fine little actor,
■■^ or a change had taken place in
Eve Gardner's attitude during the last
few moments.

"Go on," Brandon said coolly. "I'll
hear it all. then I'll decide if I can
trust you."

She smiled a little wanly.

"You're just about breaking my arm
with your manly grip," she said. "If
I promise not to run, will you loosen
your hold a little?"

He did so, wondering if she was
stalling for time.

Eve's eyes grew suddenly fiery.

"Jordon is a fool," she said. "A
first class one. He tried to get rid of
me once before, but I was crazy
enough about him to follow him again.
This time I wanted to escape but I
didn't have anywhere to go. Les, if I
tell you something that is very im-
portant — something that has to do
with the safety of Launn, will you
help me escape from this — this sink-
hole of Hell?"

Brandon stared at her.

"If youVe lying again...!"

"But I'm not," she said earnestly.
"This time I'm on the level. I've been
square with you from the first, Les.
I had to be. I'm a damned poor ex-
cuse for a woman, Les. I'm better off
away from John and he's lucky to
be rid of me."

She was talking quietly, as though
discussing a business deal.

**John "is a great man. He doesn't

CITY OF THE DEAD

know it, and that's what makes him
great. I used to work for Charles
Weston and that's how I got mixed
up in this Sulphana mess. John Gran-
ger was dangerous and Weston paid
me to watch him. The marriage was
the unexpected part, but in Weston's
mind, marriage is unimportant. The
big thing was that I must watch
John's every move and report to Wes-
ton, so that he would be ready to step
in and save Sulphana's interests re-
gardless of what happened."

"And Jordon," Brandon asked cold-
ly. "Where does he fit into the
mess?"

Her face was warm and flushed
now. She had started the story. She
had to finish.

"Phil Jordon and I ran around to-
gether for years," she admitted. "He's
always treated me like a worm, and
I've gone back for more." She
shrugged, and a shudder swept
through her. "Until now, he's always
called me and I've gone to him. This
time I'm all washed up."

Brandon wondered how much of
what she said was the truth. He was
inclined to believe most of it.

"What's Jordon up to now that
makes him repulsive to you?"

She put her hand on his arm and
stared up into his face.

"Don't get me v^rong, Les," she
said. "Jordon isn't replusive to me.
He's an ugly brute, but I've chased
him since I was a kid. I'll never stop
chasing him. It v/as like a habit. It
didn't work out, and I'm not going
back again."

Brandon knew she meant it.

E STARED down at the tent.
The sun was still high and
shimmering heat danced about the
dark cloth of Jordon's shelter. The
Burtells were seeking shade. No other
movement was visible on the desert.
He broke the spell of silence.

"You're telling me the truth," he
said. "I'm quite sure of that. It's fun-
ny — about women like you, I mean.
You make a complete damn fool of
yourself, then expect by telling the
truth, regardless of how ugly it is, to
clean the slate at the first try. I don't
know how I can help you. I'd never
face John Granger again if I helped
you escape. Why don't you go to
him...."

"Les," the girl's voice was sharp,
yet pleading. "I can't do that. John
has been square with me. He's always
trusted me. I couldn't tell him. . ."

He knev/ she couldn't. That she
wouldn't have the courage to hurt
him.

"What is Jordon going to do?" he
asked.

"He's going to wait," she said sim-
ply.

He looked at her sharply.

*'V/ait— for what?"

"For the Power to return and de-
stroy Launn once more. He said it it
coming soon, and that he will have a
clear field once more. That there will
be no one to trouble him."

He grasped her hands, gripping
them tightly. His eyes were suddenly
stern.

"Eve — you know what the Povv^er
is? Jordon told you?"

She was no longer afraid. She had
one ace card left and she meant to
play it carefully.

"I knov/."

"Then you've got to tell me at once.
We've got to be prepared."

She pulled away from him gently
and he let her go. They faced each
other, each pleading silently for his
case. Each wondering how far he
must go to win the point.

"I've — I've got to get away safely,
without seeing John," she said.

"Eve — an entire city faces death,
and you're making me bargain for
their lives."

AMAZING STORIES

She was desperate.

"IVe got to get av/ay. I know I'm
a coward. I've been a coward, but
this is the last time 1*11 have a
chance to drive a bargain. My free-
dom against a city. Les — will you
promise to help?"

Inside Brandon there seethed a
combination of loyalty to John Gran-
ger and the knowledge that Launn
had to be saved, regardless of the
price. If Granger found out...

From deep in the tunnel, a sudden
rumbling noise echoed and re-echoed.
A rush of wind whipped up and the
sai.d blew Eve Granger's dress tight-
ly about her. She fell, crying out, and
Brandon drew her back into the pro-
tection of the rocks.

nPHE WIND was howling about
"■■ them now with great intensity,
filling the air with fine, blowing
sand.

He couldn't shout above the sound.
He stared out of the tunnel and down
at the valley below, with wonder-
filled eyes. A great transformation
had suddenly taken place in the des-
ert camp.

The first gust of wind seemed to
have come from inbide the tunnel, yet
the desert also was in the midst of a
violent storm. He held the girl tight-
ly against him, for the wind was so
strong that they would have been
separated and lost in the storm. Jor-
don's huge tent bellied out and
twisted free from the desert floor. It
swept upward into the air and dis-
appeared across the Plain of Parna.

He couldn't see the men below, but
he could make out the forms of the
Burtells, lying with their heads away
from the wind, already half buried in
the sand.

He put his lips to Eve's ear and
shouted.

**This is no sand storm. It's — it's
something far worse. A wind like this

isn't normal.*'

She nodded, her face close to his
chest, choking for her breath. The
desert was growing dark. In two min-
utes, he thought, it will be as dark
as night. He stared upward through
the haze of flying sand. A huge black
cloud was flying over head, straight
out across the plain. Yet, was it a
cloud? It seemed to drift and break
apart, and drift together again. It
swept close to the ground and parti-
cles of it, mixed with the sand, fell
about them. He saw Eve Granger rub
bits of fine black dust from her jack-
et and press them between her fin-
gers. When she stared up at him
again, her face was white. She pulled
him from the entrance of the cave
and back into the tunnel. It was quiet-
er here and the wind in the tunnel
had subsided.

"Les — the black dust. We've got to
get back to Launn. Jordon told me
about the dust. It means that the
Power is about to strike again."

TJAWN, sister to Barbie and Prin-
•■■ cess of Launn, was worried. Fawn
had grown to love Brandon intensely,
with the love of a child who grew
suddenly to womanhood and dedi-
cated her entire life and love to one
man.

Long hours ago she had watched
him, clad in the armor of the diver,
disappear into the insect world be-
low the city. Since then the others
hadn't mentioned his name before
her — had tried to make her think that
they ignored him and knew that he
was in no danger.

Fawn dressed swiftly, covering her
fine, long hair with one of her
brother's silk turbans. Her small feet
were carefully shod in boots and her
gown had been discarded in favor of
a hardy hunting costume of shirt and
breeches. She was ready to search
for Brandon.

CITY OF THE DEAD

Fawn knew little of underground
Launn. She knew that the insect men
meant no harm, and like giant bees,
they had worked for Barbie as long
as he fed them and kept them locked
safely in their hives under the city.
Launn owed a great debt to the in-
sect men. From them, Launn took the
powder that meant health. Launn had
never known ill health until the Pow-
er came to steal everything from
them.

Fawn found her way under the
palace and past the room where she
had sought rest and found sleep that
lasted for thousands of years. She felt
her way to the end of the tunnel and
at last stumbled into the room where
Phillip Jordon had secretly stayed for
so many months, during his visits to
Launn.

At the trap door, her courage failed
her, and she could go no further. To
venture into the hive meant death un-
less she was protected. She 'knew that
the insect men had no intelligence,
that they attacked v/ith one animal
thought in mind — to destroy what
they could and ignore what they
could not harm.

Fawn sat in that room, waiting for,
she knew not what. Hoping that
Brandon would return.

A storm came from the mountains.
She knew that, for the wind found
the tunnel and whipped through the
room, breaking the door from its
hinges and whipping down through
the trapdoor into the hive. She sought
safety from it behind the empty chest
in the corner. She was startled and
badly frightened, for no such v^ind
had ever blown in Launn to her
knowledge.

OHE STAYED there until the wind
^^ was quiet once more. Below,, the
insect men screamed in protest
against the wind that swept through
their hive. She went to the trap door

and knelt there, staring down with
fascinated eyes at the turbulent scene
below.

Then she stiffened. Voices came
from the hive. She heard Brandon
speak, but he was far away, and she
did not understand his words. Then
another voice came to her faintly. Her
heart sank. It was a woman's voice.

She wanted to leave the trapdoor,
but she couldn't tear herself away.
Then she saw Brandon coming
through the hive in the armor suit,
the headpiece tipped back. In his
arms, where he could hold her out of
reach from the insect men, was Eve
Granger, the lovely earth girl.

A great sickness sw^pt over Fawn
and she felt faint. With fascinated
eyes she watched them come across
the hive. Brandon kicked and fought
his way through the milling insect
men. They reached the bottom of the
ladder below Fawn.

The girl in Brandon's arms sudden-
ly kissed him on the lips.

Tears dimmed Fawn's eyes and she
sprang away from the trapdoor. She
moved swiftly back along the tunnel,
groped her way up the stairs and into
the palace.

She hurried through the throne
room and down the great hall to the
square. Barbie was rushing into the
palace. Blank, certain fear was writ-
ten into Barbie's strong face.

"Fawn...?"

She didn't hesitate, but started to
run down the steps past him. He
turned and tried to catch her as she
went by.

"Fawn — don't go out. It isn't safe."

She hardly heard him, but saw his
bubble car sitting near the curb where
he had just left it. She knew that he
was pursuing her— calling for her to
come back. She jumped into the car
hurriedly and drew back the rocket
release. As the car sprang away, she
was conscious of a clear, hateful pic-

AMAZING STORIES

ture framed too clearly on the steps
of the palace.

Barbie was there, staring after with
wonder. Beside him stood Brandon,
with Eve Granger still in his arms.
Barbie was shouting at Fawn, but she
could not hear.

The bubble car shot out into the
deserted boulevard and she drove
swiftly toward the outer city, in the
direction of the Mount of Spawn.

She knew that she would drive
forever, perhaps straight to death.
Death would be welcome now, to heal
forever the deep wound in her heart.

ffTT WAS Fawn," Barbie said
■*• helplessly. "Fawn took my
car and drove away. I tried to stop
her."

He stared at Brandon as Brandon
put Eve down.

"You see the storm? It is like noth-
ing we have ever had. The wind has
gone, but look. . .'*

Barbie pointed at the sky.

Brandon nodded.

"I know,'* he said simply. "Eve was
with Jordon. I promised to help her.
Jordon knows the secret of the Pow-
er. He told Eve. I think we can save
the city."

He stared after the disappearing
car.

"WeVe got to act fast," he said,
and turned to Eve. "Help Barbie.
He'll protect you until I return. I
can't promise that you won't see
John. You've got to help us, regard-
less."

She had control over herself again
now. Her face was very pale, but reso-
lute.

"I know," she said. "I was a fool
to do what I did — down there. I might
have known that you're too decent. . ."

Brandon blushed.

"Forget it," he said. "I've got to
find Fawn before it's too late. Help
Barbie."

He left them standing there. He ran
down the steps two at a time, his eyes
already focused on an approaching
bubble car. The car moved to the
curb and John Granger stepped out.
He saw Brandon coming.

"Les," he shouted. "What in the
devil...?"

Brandon ran past him and jumped
into the car.

"See Barbie," he said quickly.
"There is still time. Eve will ex-
plain."

He saw John Granger's face turn
dead white and watched the older
man turn toward the palace.

"Eve?" Granger said questioningly.
"Where...?"

Brandon started the car. He waited
impatiently as the bubble car gained
momentum and the rocket bursts were
steady behind it. He had seen Fawn
make the turn toward the foothills.

He looked up quickly at the cloud
that hung over the city. It was
spreading and coming lower. Brandon
tried to nurse more speed from the
bubble car. He watched the broad,
smooth pavement ahead oi him, try-
ing to find the tiny speck of Fawn's
car in the distance.

JOHN Granger ran up the steps to
where Eve and Barbie stood.

"Eve," he cried, and went toward
her.

She didn't falter — didn't back away.

"John," she said. "I haven't time to
explain now. There are many things
to be done. We must save the city.
I've learned the secret of the Power."

He stared at her for a moment be-
fore he realized the importance of
her words.

"You're safe," he said quietly. "I'm
very thankful."

He should have seen the tight lit-
tle lines on her forehead, the misery
in her eyes.

"The cloud is growing thicker,"

CITY OF THE DEAD

Barbie said. His voice was oddly
calm.

People in the streets were milling
about below them. Launn was a
frightened city. A city of children
who knew not where to turn for safe-
ty. They felt the nearness of the Pow-
er yet knew not how to fight it.
Launn could not fight, for it could
not see the monster that was about
to devour it.

"You remember Pelee," Eve Gran-
ger said coolly.

Her husband's face suddenly mir-
rored horror.

"Mount Pelee of Martinique?"

She nodded.

"You read about it one night. You
read aloud, about the people of St.
Pierre and I said that it was impossi-
ble. Surely you remember that?"

He nodded, beginning to under-
stand.

"Launn is another St. Pierre," she
•aid. "The lava flows across the
mountain, away from the city. The
Power comes this way. I believe what
you read about ancient Pelee now,
John. Jordon told me that the Mount
of Spawn is th« Power. When the vol-
canic cloud comes, the Power fol-
lows."

John Granger had heard enough.
He pivoted toward Barbie. Prince
Barbie was badly bewildered. He had
listened carefully and learned noth-
ing.

"Your people must go underground
at once," Granger said. "If you go
deep and close the entrances care-
fully, sealing any contact with the
upper world, you may save Launn."

Barbie did not question him.

"There are the water tunnels, and
the hives of the insect men," he said.
"Strong doors protect the entrances.
The water tunnels are long and very
deep."

Granger nodded.

"There's no time to waste. Read a

proclamation at once over the telo-
screen. It may be an hour or it may
be minutes. The Power is ready to
strike."

TT WAS almost dark among the
•*• parks of the outer city. Brandon
had to slow down, searching the in-
tersecting roads carefully, desperate-
ly. He wondered where the girl would
go — ^why she had tried to escape the
city.

Surely she had seen the cloud and
realized that tragedy would strike?
Perspiration stood out on Brandon's
forehead. His hands, gripping the
steering rudder of the bubble car,
were wet and cold.

He crossed a bridge over the last
lagoon and sped straight toward the
Mount of Spawn.

"Odd," he thought, "driving
straight toward death."

He had little chance to escape the
Power now, for he was driving
straight into the Power's lair. But
Fawn was up there somewhere ahead,
and regardless of her reason for leav-
ing, he must bring her back or perish
in the attempt.

The air was growing hot and the
cloud, laying low, covered the park
with fine, black pumice. It started to
drift across the road, obscuring hia
vision. He switched on the powerful
lights.

Ahead of him, he saw a car over-
turned in the ditch, wedged against
a tall Sparta tree.

He breaked the car quickly and left
it, running swiftly toward the over-
turned vehicle. He recognized the
crown insignia on the door panel. He
reached it, wrenching the door open.
Fawn had driven too fast and tried to
turn sharply. She was slumped on the
seat, her limp body twisted half
around toward the door. A dark
bruise was visible on her forehead and
her lips were parted slightly. H«

AMAZING STORIES

lifted the unconscious girl to his
shoulders and ran as f^st as he could
in the blackness of the pumice cloud.
Reaching his own car he placed her
gently in the seat.

Brandon's face was grim as he sped
back toward Launn. The city was hid-
den in the shadow of the cloud.

He reached the* first park, and be-
hind him, a strange light lifted into
the sky and reflected on the road. It
was accompanied by a roaring explo-
sion.

Mount of Spawn was erupting. The
Power was on its way.

The cloud swept away swiftly and
the sky and reflected on the road. It
that burned beneath Spawn. He could
not see the Power, for he knew that
it came slowly, like a gas, and no man
could see it. Launn had died once be-
fore, and there had not even been a
pumice cloud to warn them. The last
time the Power had come alone, be-
fore Launn suspected. He was thank-
ful that this time it had given warn-
ing.

There was one chance. The first
bridge loomed up before him. Pray-
ing that the water in the lagoon was
deep, Brandon swerved the bubble
car and shot straight off the high
embankment into the lagoon. The car
hit the water with a sickening jolt
and darkness closed in once more
about him. Brandon took a deep
breath and reached for the girl.

TN THE palace, John Granger stood
•*• by the huge door, staring up at the
fire that belched from Mount of
Spawn. He had insisted on taking his
chance, so that he might study the
Power in action. Launn must learn
to fight back, and the city could do so
only by knowinp^ what it was fight-
ing.

Barbie v/as below the city with his
people. Most of them had been given
ample time to retreat. The huge doors

were closed and bolted. Granger him-
self had dressed in a heavy fire suit
which Launn's men used to fight the
flames that occasionally licked at its
buildings. The suit was heavy and
the helmet thick. Granger felt safe.

He stood by the open doors, watch-
ing Spawn. He wondered if Brandon
would reach Fawn in time. He could
not help them. It had been Brandon's
choice and a man must fight his own
battle.

The cloud was thickest now, and
Granger turned slowly. With a gasp
of surprise, he ripped the mask away
from his face.

Phillip Jordon stood near him, his
face grim with a mocking smile. He
held a fire pistol in his right hand.

"Hello, Granger. So we meet again,
and at a very opportune moment."

Jordon was dressed in a thin metal
suit and he held the glassine helmet
in his left hand.

Granger said nothing.

"Well— talk," Jordon said abruptly.
"Talk now, because you'll be saying
your last words on this planet or any
other."

Granger walked toward him a few
steps and stopped when Jordon flour-
ished the pistol.

"You're a damned coward, Jordon,"
he said coldly. "You hide behind a
woman's skirts and fight behind my
back. Do you think I'm afraid of a
man like you, even when you carry
a pistol?"

Jordon's face turned a trifle pale.

"Don't try to bluff me. Granger,"
he warned. "I'll shoot you before you
come another two steps."

Granger took another step.

"You thought you could use Eve
to betray us. You hated her as much
as you do me, but you knew she was
weak, Jordon. You and the whole yel-
low crew behind you."

"I'm warning you, Granger. One
more step."

CITY OF THE DEAD

JORDON'S voice was strong now.
He was desperate. He had to use
the pistol or give way. His fury was
growing.

"I knew what you were doing,"
Granger said. "I'm older than Eve.
I didn't blame her for leaving me —
but to choose you in my place. She's
weaker than I thought."

His arm was upraised now, the
heavy helmet poised to crash down
on Jordon's head. Suddenly he took
the last step. The pistol in Jordon's
hand exploded but before it did so,
a bundle of fury released itself from
the wall curtains and sprang at Jor-
don's neck.

Jordon went down and Granger's
helmet hit him a glancing blow on the
face. The fire charge grazed the
heavy suit and exploded harmlessly
against the wall. Granger went to his
knees. Jordon was lying full length
on the floor and across his body lay
Eve Granger, her cheek bleeding. The
helmet had hit her also, knocking her
out.

Granger drew her away from Jor-
don gently.

"Eve?"

His voice was pathetic.

From outside the palace, a gigantic
bomb seemed to explode. It rocked
the entire city. Granger rushed to the
doors. He stared with horror toward
Spawn. The sky above Spawn was
bright with liquid fire. The black
cloud was ripping itself aside and rac-
ing toward the city. Behind it, was
nothing but empty, sinister sky.

Granger rushed back to the two
who lay on the floor. He v/ent to
work like a mad man, ripping the suit
of armor from Jordon's body. When
it was free, he tried desperately to
work Eve's limp body into it before it
was too late. At last it was done,
he placed the helmet over her head.
Then and only then did he once more
don his own helmet. He sat there on ^

the floor, her head on his lap, his arms
about her, sheltering her as he would
a child.

The windows of the room flew
open. A strange, hot wind swept
through the building. Even through
the protecting suit. Granger could
feel it. It came and left swiftly, and
almost before it reached him, he was
once more cool and gasping for
breath.

Was it safe now?

T TE LIFTED the helmet from his
'■' •■• head and took a quick breath.
The air was good, but the floor under
him, when he touched it with his fin-
ger, was very hot. The air smelled hot
and sickishly sweet, but he guessed
that the Power had passed. He tried
one more experiment. He walked
slowly to Jordon's body and leaned
over it, touching the man's face with
his fingertips. He recoiled, backing
away from the corpse, his senses
stunned, though he knew v/hat he
must expect even before he ap-
proached the body.

Jordon was stiff and hard. His face,
where Granger's fingertips had
touched, was like warm rock.

Hurriedly Granger drew the helmet
from Eve's face. He hardly had the
nerve to touch her. When at last his
finger touched her face, her cheek
was warm and alive. She opened her
eyes and stared up at him.

She was trying to speak and he
bent close to her lips, listening, tears
glistening his eyes.

"I — was — a — fool," he heard her
voice, low, filled with emotion. "I'm
no good — Jordon and I...'*

He placed a finger gently over her
lips.

"I know all about you," he said
quietly. "It's all over. Jordon's dead."

She didn't answer, but he knew that
each of them would have another
xham^e, and that neither Phillip Jor-

AMAZING STORIES

don, nor the entire world could ever
tear them apart again.

ORANDON planned swiftly, franti-
*^ cally as the car sank down into
the lagoon. The water must be deep,
he thought. It had to be deep, or the
Power would reach them.

For a few seconds the bubble car
remained dry inside. He saw the cool,
dark water fighting to get in. He
must wait. Must save every precious
second and pray that the Power
would pass. He slipped over as far
as he could toward the right side of
the seat. He lifted Fawn to his lap
and held her there. He found her
handkerchief and tied it tightly over
her lips. The girl didn't move. Her
eyes were closed.

He was watching the surface of the
lagoon.

Suddenly the water above seemed
to froth and turn white. It boiled
downv/ard and Brandon held his
breath. The heat would be terrific.
Could it reach the bubble car?

Water was trickling into the rear
compartment. He heard it and hoped
that the glassine would hold against
the pressure.

The bubbles were receding now,
back toward the surface.

Suddenly the glassine window
broke and tons of water rushed in.
With his foot, he kicked the door
open. It took all his strength to do it.
He held Fawn tightly with his right
arm. He pushed himself away from the
car and felt the shock of icy water
hit his body.

With a powerful kick, he sent them
upward toward the surface. He
thought he would choke before they
reached air.

Quickly he changed his hold,
caught Fawn under the arms and
swam toward the shore.

It was a strange, peaceful world
that he had come back to. The cloud

had gone. There was no fire spewing
from Spawn. Launn, far away, was
quiet. Too quiet, he thought, as he
dragged Fawn's limp body to the
shore.

He wondered if Eve Grangers
warning had come in time.

TN LAUNN, there was a great cele-
"*• bration. The people, all but a frac-
tion of them saved from the terrible
Power, were thankful for their for-
tunately planned escape. Although
they knew little of the Power even
now, they would soon learn, for their
friends from earth would soon offer
an explanation.

At the Palace of Launn, Barbie had
prepared for the greatest feast Launn
had ever given.

The dining room was filled with
workers, and the great table groaned
in protest against the load of fruits
and meats that covered its fine cloth.
The party was small. Tonight was a
special celebration, for it marked the
day when Princess Fawn would gain
a husband and her many admirers
would lose their last chance to win
her heart.

Barbie sat alone at the head of the
table, as his father had sat many cen-
turies ago.

Fawn, looking a little pale, wore
her bandage well and it hid the only
wound that the Power had left be-
hind. At her side, Brandon beamed
like a small boy who had just caught
the largest fish. John Granger was as
devoted as ever to Eve, and Eve
Granger was, undoubtedly, a changed
woman. Never again would she find
a counterpart for Phillip Jordon. All
the Phillip Jordons of the planetary
system were forgotten by her, and
her eyes were bright and a little misty
as she watched her husband rise and
face the huge telo-screen that had
been placed before him on the table.

He was a fine man and it had taken

CITY OF THE DEAD

her years to realize it. She had been
unwise, and a fool. Now that he had
forgiven her — had in fact, saved her
life in return for his own, she would
never leave him again.

Two more pair of eyes watched
Granger as he started to speak. Pee-
Wee Hudson had done a good job of
herding Launn's citizens into the tun-
nels, and Jenny had not been idle. It
had been her request that she be
placed in charge of preparing the
royal banquet, and the odors that rose
from many covered dishes added the
crowning touch to her triumph.

Granger touched the button that
lighted the screen and sent his mes-
sage to the waiting people of Launn.
**The Power can never again catch
Launn unprepared," he said simply.
*'I am not a speech-maker. I am a
scientist. I cannot take credit for sav-
ing Launn." He turned to Eve. "I
would like to present my wife, Eve,
who went into the enemy camp as a
spy and brought back knowledge of
the Power. It was her faithful work
that gave us time to prepare Launn
and to save its people."

Eve Granger found her handker-
chief and tried to dry her tears be-
fore the others saw. No one seemed
to notice. John Granger went on.

**Many centuries ago, in the old
world of which we know so little, a
Mountain called Pelee erupted and
threw tons of lava down upon the
town of St. Pierre. A strange thing
took place in that town. Thirty thou-
sand people were caught going about
their daily work. When rescue ships
came, these people were still there,
unharmed so far as wounds were con-
cerned. Yet they were all dead,
stopped in their tracks where the
heat from Pelee had passed."

HE PAUSED, wiping his face with
his handkerchief. The room was
very quiet.

*The Mount of Spawn is a volca-
no, but as none of us have gone there,
we did not know this. Spawn throws
the lava away from the city, into the
valleys that we have not explored.
However, the wave of super-heated
air came in this direction. That was
no doubt caused by drafts that we
know nothing about. All this must be
studied now, and understood, for the
sake of future generations.

"Oddly, the heat wave docs not
burn. It passes too suddenly to burn.
Instead, it fills the people's lungs and
makes them stop breathing. It kills
them quickly, and passes on with so
much speed that the victims are
stopped in their tracks, without any
visible marks on their bodies. Dearti
comes so suddenly that they cannot
move from where they stand.

"That is our explanation of the
Power, and v/e have no reason to fear
it again, for we know what to do.*'
He sat down.

Barbie rose and went to the scrcLrfi.
His voice was young, strong and con-
fident as he addressed his people.

"I can add little to what John
Granger has told you," he admitted.
"However, we owe all to the earth
party and I am happy that they have
reunited here in my father's home to-
night. We will b^ ready for the Pow-
er when it comes again, and we have
the help of one who has promised to
stay in Launn and make his home
here."

He looked across the table at Les
Brandon.

"My sister, little minx that she is,
made a grave error. An error that
would have cost her life had not
Brandon saved her from the Power.
She has seen her mistake, and I be-
lieve that Launn will lose a Prin-
cess and some day acquire a Queen.
Perhaps Launn will be blessed with a
number of members of the Royal fam-
ily, to keep the house of Barbie

AMAZING STORIES

alive."

Fawn blushed and tried to look
very small at Brandon's side.

"Earth has sent a message which I
will read for the first time," Barbie
said, and drew a sheet of script from
his pocket.

The party around the table looked
surprised. Here was something that
none of them knew about.

"The message," Barbie said, *'is
from the Earth Council of Science. I
read:

**A full report of the activities of
the Western Research Foundation
and the work of Phillip Jordon, has
reached this office. When it had been
confirmed, the Weston Research
Foundation will be relieved of its po-
sition and Charles Weston and his
aides will be imprisoned. This mes-
sage will serve as an invitation by this
council to John Granger, and will ask
Granger to accept the post as leader
of a group to be called the Granger
Research Foundation and to repre-
sent earth in all scientific matters as
this council's representative. An im-
mediate response is requested."

KJO ONE spoke. John Granger took
■* ^ his wife's hand in his and held it
very tightly.

Barbie folded the paper and passed
it to Granger.

"Sulphana is a valuable drug," he
said. "Launn realized this while Earth
was but a lonely outpost of the
planetary system. Now, earth wants
a supply of Sulphana to pass through
the offices of Brandon and Granger.
Launn will be v^ell payed for the
product and our friends will receive
their commissions. That is all I have

to say.

"I could thank my friends, but they
do not wish to be thanked. I believe
that each one has received his just
reward."

He sat down, and the screen went
blank.

"Now — if Fawn can concentrate on
food," he said with a smile, "we will
eat."

Fawn blushed and disentangled her
hand from Les Brandon's. Jenny
Hudson beamed upon them in a
motherly fashion.

"The flour ain't so good here," she
said. *'But I guc^s those biscuits will
be good enough. The ovens have to
be remodeled. They're too hot,
too. . ."

PeeWee Hudson frowned.

"Aw, Jenny, them biscuits are the
best, and you know it. Stop making
excuses. No one pays any atten-
tion. . ."

"You keep your big blather-mouth
shut. PeeWee Hudson/' Jenny said
testily. "I'm not a good cook and you
know it."

Prince Barbie, grinning happily,
had already sampled his first one.

"I pronounce the food excellent,"
he said with a show of authority, "and
as I'm the Prince of the city, my word
is law. Please stop arguing at once."

For a minute, Jenny Hudson
seemed about to sputter in indigna-
tion at the upstart who questioned
her right to speak. Then she saw the
delighted smile they were giving her
and subsided with a pleased smile.

"Everything's gonna be all right,"
PeeWee said softly. "Yes sir, every-
thing's gonna be all right.'*
THE END

COMING NEXT MONTH!

THE GALAXY RAIDERS

William P. McGivern gives you a REAL Science-Fiction Yarn!

BUGS mm wiDs

By William Karney

TN THE WEST there is a plant called
•i. the Klamath weed which grows so fast
that it chokes out the grass on the ranges,
and is injurious to the health of the cat-
tle. Till now the ranchers have been fight-
ing a losing battle with the weed, using an
expensive chemical that is difficult to ap-
ply. Now they think they have found a
better way. That way is the use of the
Chrysolina, a beetle native to Australia,

which apparently just loves the Klamath
wf /f 'K^:^^""^ ^^* anything else The
fiff ^oi?^ their eggs around tlie base of
the i)lant and when they hatch, they eat
the leaves The older beetles come out of

m^HnTi'^o 'mI* «^/^". bloom. The beetles
multiply rapidly and scientists believe that

'^mh^."^^'^ ^Vlt ^^^ Klamath weed
will be a thmg of the past.

By H. B* Stanton

rHE BOTTOM of the sea holds some
irresistible fascination for men. It is
the one portion of the world which man
has not explored to any great extent. It
wasnt so many years ago since Dr. Beebe
went down three thousand feet into the
ocean in his bathysphere. Most of us re-
member the reports he made of weird
monsters existing at those depths. It
seems he had on that trip an assistant,
Dr. Otis Barton who became fired with
the zeal to go even deeper. The Bentho-
scope was the result.

The Benthoscope, from the Greek, mean-
ing **sea bottom observer", was, or is, a
steel sphere five feet in diameter and
about an inch and a half thick. It is sus>
pended from a thin steel cable to which
are attached phone and power wires. In
this pitifully weak little device, Barton
chose to go deeper than any liuman being
before hmi— four thousand five hundred
feet !

Because the benthsocope is a spiiere it
is capable of withstanding extreme pres-
sures and Barton's trip proved that it was
ade()uately designed. There were no leaks
through the sphere and its quartz window
easily withstood the pressure. In many re-
spects, because of his isolation from the
surface, Barton was in the position of a
deep space traveler. He even drev/ that
comparison. His oxygen was delivered to
him from steel bottles within the sphere.
Any tubes projecting down into that
depth would have been crushed. Trays
of sodium hydroxide removed the carbon
dioxide exhaled by him. In other words he
was effectively a lone unit with a self
contamed oxygen supply and scavenging
system as would be found in a potential
space ship.

Barton, who seems less of an icthyolo-

gist or biologist than a physical scientist,
next plans to repeat the tremendous dive
with a trained observer who can analyze
to a certain extent and perhaps photograph
the weird sea-bottom creatures. His major
concern was in the design of a suitable
vehicle for such depths. It seems that man
can go to any depth he desires, since a
steel sphere capable of resisting any sea
pressure can be built. The limitation here
IS the strength of the steel cable. As more
cable is lowered the tensile forces acting
to separate become greater. What a terri-
fic thrill! To be dangling at the end of
a slender wire of steel, with the sphere
twirling and bobbmg in a fashion to make
one sea sick! The power cable failed on
Barton s dive so he was not able to see
clearly into the intended illuminated depths
into a searchlight cone. Never the less, a
good deal was learned. Barton intends to
repeat the experience, but so far as he
knows It is wiser to observe sea life and
depths considerably less, because life and
living things are more concentrated. At
the extreme depths of the ocean it is
highly improbable that any kind of sea
life will be found unless perhaps some
minute bacteria or other life undisturbed
by pressure, can live. It gives one the
shudders to think of a man hanging in
the ocean by such a thread. What
thoughts must inevitably course through
his mind under such circumstances? What
fears must tear at him? Yet, Barton, who
rnamtamed telephone communications with
the surface apparently remained quite
calm and scientific withal. And that is a
difficult feat indeed. It is one thing to
read about steel nerves; it is another to
have them when thousands of feet of water
separate you from living beings— death
seems near!

VIAl of IMMORTAUTY

By Craig Browning

If a vampire really exists, it has to be
something scientilically explamable. It
wiS! . . and Dr. Sehwick f onnd the ansi% er!

DR. SCHWICK sat in his favorite
barrel chair pouring apple cider
from a gallon glass jug into a large
drinking glass. His overdeveloped
paunch, short fat legs, and stubby
fingers were belied by his high, in-
tellectual forehead and keen grey

eyes.

His wife sat over in one corner ot
the room sewing on a dress she was
making. She ignored her husband and
his present favorite disciple.

The disciple was a young man
about* twenty-five years old, five
feet seven, with blond hair parted
in the middle and neatly laid on his

scalp.

His name was Orville Chadwick,
and he had been developing a talent
for automatic writing on the type-
writer. He was rather thin, due to the
diet of potato water and carrot juice
he had been living on under Dr.
Schwick's tutelage.

The two were in marked contrast
to each other; the one thin, with long
sensitive fingers ; the other stout and
bloated looking; with fingers that
at first glance seemed to all have been
amputated at the first joint. It was
only by looking at the eyes of the two
that one could tell that the gross man
was the master and the sensitive,
younger man the lesser intellect.

Dr. Sehwick screwed the cap back
on the jug and set it on the thick
green rug beside his chair. He took
several deep swallows of the spark-
ling apple cider and smacked his lips

loudly. Then he continued what he
had been saying.

"All my life, Orville, IVe been hop-
ing someone with your talents would
come along. The big trouble with
having a talent like yours is that it
doesn^t carry with it the judgment
to put it to the best usage. You think
that it is something wonderful to just
be able to sit down at a typewriter
and throw yourself into a trance and
wake up to find your fingers have
written out some intellectual non-
sense that a conceited spirit thinks
to be a world shaking revelation
from the astral.

"Pah! You don't have to contact
the astral to get intellectual non-
sense. Millions of words of that sort
of thing are being written every day
by perfectly natural agencies. And
just because a man has been dead for
a century or so doesn't make him a
know-it-all. If it did all our greatest
scientific achievements would be
written and published by mediums
rather than by materialistic scien-
tists."

"But what other use CAN I put it
to, doctor?" Orville asked. "When I
go into a trance I don't know what
entity is going to take over. I never
know unless he writes out his name.
I don't have any control over the
matter."

"You can have control to a certain
extent," Dr. Sehwick replied. "Go
places. I knew a writer once who
made quite a success of his profes-

In the furry bodiss of those two half-transparent rats lay the secret of an evil immortality

AMAZING STORIES

sion by just going various places and
opening his mind to the astral entities
around him. Very remarkable things
resulted. He wrote one story while
in a small midwestern town that il-
lustrates very remarkably what I am
driving at. He had never been in this
town before, knew none of the peo-
ple, and even less about the topogra-
phy of the place.

"He had only been there a few
hours when inspiration struck him. He
sat down at his typewriter and in
three days turned out forty thou-
sand words. It was a complete story,
and written without a flaw.

"So far as he knew it was pure
fiction. He 'invented* the names of
the characters and even the names of
the streets and geographical centers
such as mountains and hills and
gulches and creeks. The same with
the plot.

"Like all writers he let it be known
that he was a famous author and had
just written a story. He sent it to a
magazine publisher who happened to
need that type of story right at that
very moment, and consequently it ap-
peared on the stands in less than a
month. Naturally the natives of the
town all bought it and read it.

"The story hit the townsmen right
between the eyes! It proved with
chapter and verse, so to speak, that
the drunkard who had been sent to
prison for committing a murder that
had taken place near that town was
innocent, and pointed the finger of
guilt directly at a very upright citi-
zen of that town, even giving his
correct name!**

"So he was an automatic writer just
like I am !" Orville exclaimed.

"No,** Dr. Schwick said gently. "He
was a successful author. He wouldn't
have been if he dabbled in great revel-
ations from seedy ghost writers. He
put his talent to practical use, — enter-
taining the public.*'

"Oh,** Orville said, somewhat
abashed.

A T THAT moment the front door-
^^ bell rang. Dr. Schwick placed
his hands on the arms of his chair
and lifted his mighty frame to an
upright position, unconsciously pro-
testing against this invasion of his
comfort.

Mrs. Schwick glanced up from her
sewing and followed her husband
with her eyes as he went to the front
door.

His booming voice told her who
the visitor was.

"Well!** Dr. Schwick exclaimed
heartily. "Dr. Bowden ! Come in, come
in. What brings you over on a night
like this? I thought, what with spring
weather giving everybody colds and
the flu, that if I wanted to see you
again before the summer doldrums set
in I would have to look you up my-
self.*'

Dr. Bowden looked very much like
he might have been Dr. Schwick*s
brother. Except for his huge paunch
Dr. Schwick could have worn Dr.
Bowden*8 clothes and looked well in
them.

The visitor shuffled off his top-
coat and took a chair without invita-
tion. He looked at the apple cider jug
on the rug, and at the glass in Dr.
Schwick's hand, and calmly asked if
another glass could be obtained.

There was a twinkle of excitement
in Dr. Schwick's eyes. He sensed that
something was on his old friend's
mind, and it must be up his alley or
this visit would not have been made.
Nor was he wrong. Dr. Bowden came
straight to the point after quenching
his thirst with one glass of cider and
settling back contentedly with a sec-
ond held in his hand.

"I have a case that has me puzzled,'*
he began. "It*s a case more than a
patient. There are two patients and

VIAL OF IMMORTALITY

one corpse, to be exact. The dead
person met with accidental death
while alone. One of the patients has
a broken leg. The other is suffering
from acute — anemia."

"Anemia!" Dr. Schwick said in a
hushed, meaningful tone. "Tell me
about it." „

^ "That's what I came here to do,
Dr. Bowden said irritably. "I was
first called onto the case by a real
estate friend of mine who has sent me
patients before. It seems he had just
sold a house to some people. They
had moved in and he decided to drop
around and see if everything was
satisfactory. The people were man
and wife with no children. Their
names were Crane,— Fred and Edith

Crane.

"He knocked at the back door. At
first he heard no sign of life inside.
After the second knock he heard a
woman screaming for help. He tried
the door. It was unlocked, so he went
in and followed the direction of the
screams to the basement.

"Edith Crane was lying at the
bottom of the steps with a compound
leg fracture. He had quite a time con-
vincing her she should remain quiet
until he could get a doctor. He called
me and I came right away.

"Her story was that she had been
on the stairs when a mouse jumped
out from under her feet. Forgetting
her precarious position she tried to
jump out of the way. She broke her
leg in the fall down the remainder of
the steps to the concrete basement
floor."

^^|-vO YOU HAVE any reason to

A-' suspect she might be lying

about what happened?" Dr. Schwick

asked.

"No, dammit," Dr. Bowden said. **l
think she was telling the truth even
yet after what took place later. When
I got there I immediately called the

ambulance and took her to the hos-
pital. By that time her husband had
come home in response to the real
estate man's call to his place of busi-
ness. He went along.

•Tred Crane, the husband, says that
after he got home from the hospital
he sent a wire to his wife's sister to
come at once. She got there the next
day and went with Mr. Crane to the
hospital to see Edith. Then she and
Fred went back to the house. Edith
couldn't be taken home until the next
day. Her leg was going to be all right,
but I felt she was suffering from
shock and should remain in the hos-
pital an extra day.

"About eleven o'clock that evening
I got a frantic call from Fred Crane.
He babbled something into the phone
about Ada being dead. I thought he
had gone out of this head and rushed
over'to give him a sedative, kicking
my pants for not realizing that the
husband might have been suffering
from shock the same as the wife.

"I was mistaken. The sister actual-
ly was dead. The evidence showed she
had been getting into the tub to take
a bath with the water still running.
She had slipped and fallen against the
tub faucets, giving herself a nasty
blow that rendered her unconscious.

"Unconscious, she fell into the tub,
and when the water rose as high as
the overflow it covered her complete-
ly and she drowned. Fred shut off
the water faucets, but had sense
enough not to touch the body.

"In all cases of accidental death I
have to call the police. I did so. They
came and made their routine exam-
ination. Then Dr. Beasely, the coro-
ner, and I drained the water out of
the tub and examined the body more
closely. Death was undoubtedly from
the causes indicated by the evidence ;
but both of us noticed an unusual
thing about the corpse.
"We confirmed it later, so there is

AMAZING STORIES

no least doubt. Although there was
the fractured skull and the blood on
the tub faucets to tell where she had
hit her head, THERE WAS NOT
ENOUGH BLOOD IN HER BODY
TO HAVE KEPT A KITTEN
ALIVE. She v/as well past the stage
where death results from cronic
anemia! Although she had undoubted-
ly died from drowning she could not
possibly have been alive BEFORE
she fell into the tub. Contradictory?
I know it; but that is what the evi-
dence says.

ffpRED CRANE insisted his
sister-in-law had seemed in
perfect health. She had a light com-
plexion and blushed often and easily,
so any signs of anemia would have
been quite obvious to him during the
course of the evening before she met
her death.

"There was no reasonable explana-
tion. The slight pinkish tinge to the
bath water could have been caused
by no more than a drop or two of
blood. To be sure, the water had
flowed into the tub and out through
the overflow for almost an hour be-
fore he investigated and shut it off.
During that time a great deal of
blood could have disappeared. The
coroner and the police seized upon
the reasonable explanation and
ignored the fact that it meant that
practically a gallon of blood had
flown from a slight scalp wound
while the poor girl had remained un-
der water. The wound did not come
near an artery, and even if it had it
would have taken a good deal more
than five minutes for it to flow out,
and long before then she would have
died from drowning and the blood
stopped flowing.

"Nevertheless, at my whispered
suggestion they took Fred down and
locked him up for the night. I had
«trong forbodinge about that house

and wanted him out of it for the
night. Also he was in a frame of
mind where he might do anything,
with two tragedies bothering him.

"That was last night. Early this
morning before beginning my calls
on patients I dropped in at the police
station to see how he had passed the
night.

"He seemed asleep when the jailor
let me into his cell, and I would have
turned around and left without dis-
turbing him except for the fact that
I noticed he seemed much thinner
than he had seven hours previously,
and his skin seemed almost blood-
less.

''Without waking him I felt his
pulse. His heart was beating wildly
like a pump that has lost its prime.
He was feverish. I tried to rouse him,
but was unable to do so.

**I called the jailor and had him
send for the police ambulance and
rush him to the emergency hospital.
There I gave him a quart of plasma
before doing anything else. Since
then I have given him two blood
transfusions, and I think I have him
out of danger now.

*Tn the case of Ada, the sister-in-
law, it is not too impossible that she
MIGHT have lost practically all her
blood through that scalp wound. If
that were an isolated instance I
would be forced to dismiss the whole
thing on the basis. BUT in Fred's
case there was nearly the same loss of
blood, and there was not the slightest
sigh of puncture on his skin anyplace.
Not even a prick large enough for ad-
mission of a hypodermic needle!*'

"And you think there may be some
force of evil about that house that
has caused this?" Dr. Schwick asked
softly.

"What do YOU think, doctor Z" Dr.
Bowden asked. "I got the keys to the
house from the desk sergeant at the
station when I picked up Fred's

VIAL OF IMMORTALITY

things to take to the hospital. Or-
dinarily I wouldn't have bothered, but
I wanted those keys. If you like, I
want you to go to that house with me
and see what we can find out."

£JR. SCHWICK rose from his chair
and went to the closet, getting
down his coat and hat. His lips were
compressed grimly, and his grey eyes
held a glint of anger.

With his coat on he paused.
"Tell me doctor," he said. "When
you have been in that house have you
felt anything sinister or anything
about the house that felt different?"
"No-o," Dr. Bowden said thought-
fully. "I can^t say that I have."

"You'll be in no danger then," Dr.
Schwick said. "But I had better go
prepared."

He went over to a glass case on a
table by the wall and extracted a
wooden cross all of six inches long
with a loop of dark string attached
to it so it could be worn about the
neck, concealed under the clothing.

"This is a cross I picked up in a
curio shop in Berlin many years ago,"
he explained. "It was supposed to
have been the property of a scholarly
priest who was famous in his time for
banishing— VAMPIRES."

"Vampires?" Dr. Bowden echoed
incredulously. "Nonsense. This is the
twentieth century, not the dark ages."
"You're the one that talks non-
sense," Dr. Schwick said with a dry
chuckle. "When a master of the Black
Art like Hitler can make it necessary
for the whole world to struggle for
its preservation, calling the forces of
evil from their sewers to do his bid-
ding, we can have no talk of the twen-
tieth century being any different than
the last,— or the thirteenth century
either."

He opened the door and stood aside
for Dr. Bowden to precede him.
Dr. Bowden was a slow and careful

driver. The two men rode in silence,
the one with his eyes on the road and
his foot always near the brake pedal,
the other with his eyes closed in
thought.

After several blocks Dr. Schwick
spoke without opening his eyes.

"IVe been thinking over what you
have told me, doctor. There's no
question in my mind but what it is
vampirism. If such is the case we
must find the body to which the
vampire spirit is tied in death and
DESTROY that body. I am a psychic,
as you know. Undoubtedly I will be
able to sense that vampire spirit.

"But sensing it and getting it to
disclose the body that holds it earth-
bound are two different things. All
the histories of vampirism are uni-
versal in their insistance that the
vampire is aware of its vulnerability
through destruction of the body it
inhabited in life, and clings to in
death ; and that a vampire will never
willingly disclose the location of that
body."

"Then how are you going to find
out?" Dr. Bowden asked skeptically.
"I think it would be best for me to
play on his vanity," Dr. Schwick said
slowly. "If I can get him to talk a
lot he may unwittingly give away that
secret. I assume that the body must
be either in the house itself, or bur-
ied somewhere very near the house.
Of course, to simply look for the
body is out of the question except as
a last resort. We would have to dig
at least six feet under every square
foot of the basement and the yard
around the house, then find later that
it is hidden six feet under just across
the property line in a neighbor's yard.
"What I intend to do specifically,
if I can, is talk to this spirit and
plant the idea of writing his story.
Then I can use my friend back at the
house, Orville Chadwick. I can paint
an alluring picture of how nice it

AMAZING STORIES

would be for this vampire if he were
famous and people by the dozen,
came to the house where he is. He
could practice vampirism to his
heart's content then.

"In order to do that I am gomg to
have to hold nothing but simple,
friendly thoughts toward him in my
mind, and that will be hard to do
after the story you told me of his

doings." _

"Thank God I'm not psychic I Dr.

Bowden said fervently.

"I thank God for that myself," Dr.

Schwick said. "Otherwise you might

have fallen victim also, and the vani-

pire would still be unsuspected.

There's no telling how many victims

he has had already."

TVR BOWDEN brought the car to
jJ a stop at the curb before a dark
unlighted house that stood fifty feet
back from the road.

It was a two story house with a hign
peaked roof that bespoke of a large
attic. Trees partly hid it from view
and the street light a block away did
little to drive back the darkness of
the moonless night.

The nearest house was a half a
block away. A vacant lot was on
either side of the place. And as the
two men turned their backs on the
parked car and walked toward the
house they pulled their coats up more
closely around their necks, although
the night was warm and humid.

Their footfalls echoed eerily on
the concrete walk and seemed to re-
bound from the house ahead with
thundering echo.

The trees on either side of the
walk were motionless, and not a
breath of air disturbed the silence of
the night.

While Dr. Bowden fumbled with
the key to the door Dr. Schwick
looked around him. Suddenly two

gleaming eyes appeared around the
corner of the house to the right. They
stopped and remained motionless and

unblinking.

As Dr. Bowden succeeded in un-
locking the door and swinging it
open a faint mewing sound came out
of the darkness from the direction
of the shining eyes.

From a great distance the mourn-
ful howl of some dog added to the
air of sinister horror that hung over
the house like a visible cloak And
just before Dr. Schwick stepped past
the threshhold into the house the
two shining eyes in the darkness
winked out with sudden abruptness.
Dr Schwick could hear his com-
panion's hands rubbing against the
plaster as he looked for the light
switch.

"Don't turn the light on yet," he
said. "Here. I have a small fountain
pen light. It will enable us to see well
enough." ,

He fumbled in his vest pocket and
brought out a small flashlight. It lit
up, casting an eerie glow over the
room.

Long shadows lurked behind chairs,
peeking out at the two muffled fig-
ures Dr. Schwick stood rigid m an
attitude of listening, his hand rest-
ing on Dr. Bowden's shoulder.

Then his eyes widened. In the door-
way across the room from him the
darkness was swirling and gradually
something solid was taking shape.

He knew from the laxness of Dr.
Bowden's shoulder that he was un-
able to see it. But it was there.

Slowly the blackness of the space
in the doorway to another part of the
house was spiralling and settling into
the form of a person.

As it settled more and more a part
of the darkness seemed to separate,
and a face appeared. It was the face of
a woman 1

VIAL OF IMMORTALfTY

T TER SKIN was smooth and flaw-
•* •*• less, relaxed as in sleep and in-
credibly white. Her eyes were pools
of night, and her slender figure was
hidden under a long cloak that fell
in straight lines to the floor.

Dr. Schwick could feel her thoughts
probing his, and he reached toward
her with his mind, his thoughts
friendly,— those of a father toward a
daughter.

She smiled and moved slowly to-
ward him. Her hands came out from
her cloak as she walked. They were
long and slender. As she drew near
she held her arms up as if to embrace
him. He could see her gleaming teeth
in the faint light cast off by the small
flashlight. They were small and
pointed like needles.

Dr. Schwick suddenly felt a warm
glow emanate from the cross hidden
under his shirt. At the same time an
expression of pain crossed the face
of the woman and she sprang back.

She recovered, but did not attempt
to come close again. Instead, she
looked at him half fearfully and with
a new respect.

Until then the doctor had not spok-
en. Nov/ his voice sounded; soft and
with soothing tones.

"You must be so lonely here with
no one around."

"Yes, I am," she answered. "It is so
seldom that anyone comes, and when
they do they don't remain for very
long. I get so very lonely, and I love
people so very much."

"That is why I have come to see
you," Dr. Schwick said pittyingly.
"I have a plan for you so that people
will always be coming to be near you
and feel your presence even when
they can*t see you as I can. Would
you like that?"

"Oh, yes!" she said eagerly. "That
would be so wonderful. Then I
wouldn't have to hurt anyone. I don't
like to hurt people and drive them

away. I want them to stay and talk.'*

An expression of pain crossed her
mask like face. Her beauty was be-
yond description, and her eyes were
dark depths that seemed to open into
infinite space where no light could
shine.

"I have a friend," Dr. Schwick said
slowly, "who is able to step out of his
body and let you enter and use it.
That body is trained to run a type-
writer. You could USE that body and
write the story of your life. Then
people could read it and learn about
you. You would become famous and
people would come every day. Not
many, but enough to keep you strong
and happy. Would you like that?"

"Oh yes!" she exclaimed. She held
up her arms and started toward the
doctor again. The cross warmed up
slightly and she stepped back.

"If I bring this friend you must
promise not to drink of his life," Dr.
Schwick warned. "If you did he would
weaken and be unable to write, and
then people could not read your story
and no one would come."

"I promise. Oh, I promise," she
breathed. "I would do anything to
have people come to see me."

"Then be ready for us tomorrow
night when it is dark."

Dr. Schwick pulled on Dr. Bow-
den's shoulder, and backed slowly to-
ward the door.

W7HEN THEY v/ere once again in
^ the car and the blocks were
speeding by that took them farther
and farther from the house, Dr.
Schwick took a handkerchief and
wiped the persperatioh from his brow.

Dr. Bowden chuckled doubtfully.

"You know, doctor," he said wryly.
"If I iiadn't known you for years, and
if I had any other good explanation
for all this, I would think you were
crazy. Back in there you carried on a
one sided conversation for all the

AMAZING STORIES

world like you were actually hearing
someone answer. Who was it? Man
woman or child?'*

**It was a woman/* Dr. Schwick said
weakly. "The most beautiful woman
in the world. And I have to kill her if
I can. Not only to prevent her from
finding more victims, but also to
send her where she belongs."

He was silent for av/hile, then he
went on.

•"You see, doctor/* he said. "Back in
the dark ages vampires were adepts in
the Black Brotherhoods. They re-
ceived skilled instructions in their
art. Through the systematic efforts of
the Church their ranks were decimat-
ed until only here and there could
one be found. Finally the art died
out, largely, and only appears today
when some adept of Evil rediscovers
it, or some untrained soul stumbles
onto it. This woman is I believe one
of the latter. She evidences none of
the evil atmosphere of the adept
Black Brother. She is simple like a
child is simple, and sees no wrong in
what she does. Perhaps she isn't
aware of doing it, but has rationalized
it into something natural and human.

"Her body must be found so that
she can be set free. Otherwise she will
be chained here forever. I don't doubt
we will find that this neighborhood
has had a long series of strange deaths
over the past few years, all unac-
counted for. And they can all be laid
at the door of this house I That should
quiet your natural skepticism even-
tually. We can't wait for that though.
Tomorrow night I'm bringing Orville
Chadwick with me and giving him his
first chance to put his gift to a prac-
tical use."

"Do you want me along?" Dr. Bow-
den asked as he turned onto the street
where Dr. Schwick lived.

"Oho yes !" Dr. Schwick exclaimed.
"I don't think I would have the cour-
dige to go through with it without

you. You see, actually I'm scared to
death of that woman. You would be
too if you could see her. And since
you can't see her you are able to stand
on solid mental ground. You don't
know what it means to my courage
when she is slowly inching her way
toward me, and I know that except
for this cross magnetised and charged
against vampires I would be helpless
against her, to feel the calm material
sensibleness of your unperturbed
shoulder under my hand. Of course I
want you along."

TPHE NEXT evening shortly after
'■' the last traces of twilight had
fled, leaving a moonless, overcast .sky
which hung over the landscape like
a cloak of black mystery. Dr. Bow-
den's car again drew to the curb be-
fore the house.

This time Orville Chadwick accom-
panied the two doctors, his portable
typewriter firmly gripped in his right
fist.

As they neared the house a dark
shadow glided swiftly toward them
out of the darkness ahead. Dr. Bow-
den snapped on his flashlight. It re-
vealed a large, dilapidated looking
tom cat with tawny green eyes. One
of its ears was split from some fight
long ago.

It spit at the light and backed into
the darkness. When the doctor shut
off his flashlight the cat returned,
signalling its friendliness with a
plaintive mew.

Its glowing eyes kept pace with
the three men, and when they paused
at the front door it sellected Orville
as the object of its affections and
rubbed ecstatically against his legs,
its purring noise loud in the stillness.

When the men entered tl^e house
the cat went in with them, darting
past Dr. Schwick's kicking foot as
the doctor tried to prevent his enter-
ing. Inside, the cat stayed well away

VIAL OF IMMORTALITY

from the men so that it was impossi-
ble to catch it and put it out.

In the light of the flashlight Or-
ville chose a side table against one
wall. There was a small table lamp
on it. He turned this on and set up
his typewriter with a small pile of
blank paper next to it. Then he sat
down in front of it and closed his
eyes.

To the eyes of Dr. Bowden it mere-
ly seemed that after a few moments
Orville opened his eyes and com-
menced typing rapidly. But to the
eyes of Dr. Schwick something
strange and unearthly transpired.

Almost immediately after Orville
closed his eyes Dr. Schwick saw a
pale cloudy substance that seemed to
rise slowly from the still form of the
young typist. It seemed to be flow-
ing out of the region around his left
ear and settling slowly to the floor,
piling up until it reached a Keighth
of better than five feet.

Within this faintly luminous
cloudy area were slow swirlings and
spiralings which swiftly took form
until an exact replica of Orville stood
beside him, connected to the seated
form by a thin pencil of white which
momentarily lit up so that its glow
seemed to cast shadows and light
through the room. Then it died down
to a pale yellow which pulsated slow-
ly as if in time to the heartbeat.

Then out of the darkness a figure
approached the seated man until it
stood just behind him at his right
shoulder. Folds of the dark cloak that
shrouded the vampire creature rose
over the seated man, and long, slender
hands emerged to poise above his
head.

Slowly they descended until they
rested just above his scalp, and then
they went inward until they seemed
buried, and only the wrists showed.

A galvanic shock spread through
the seated figure and his hands came

to Ufe at the keyboard of the ma-
chine. A few stacato raps sounded ex-
perimentally, and then the typewriter
vibrated to the rapid typing of those
trained hands, now controlled by the
strange thing out of the mystery and
darkness which one man could see and
the other could not.

And as the typewriter worked in
monotonous rhythm a strange story
unfolded. As it unfolded both doctors
leaned forward to read it as fast as
the words appeared.

AT LAST I can write my story!
^^ You, the reader, whoever you
may be, can't know what a relief that
is; — but you will when you know
what I am. You'll notice I said
WHAT I am, and not WHO I am.
You see, I am really nobody, although
I am several things including people.
I'm also a cat, — a big mangy tomcat
that comes yowling for his breakfast
at the back door every morning. Also
I'm two mice that live in the basement
and are deathly afraid of the big cat,
although actually he is too lazy to
catch me, — I mean the mice that live
in the basement.

It's all rather confusing even to me
at times. Sometimes I think I must
be the spirit of some person who died
in this house long ago who doesn't re-
member anything about it now; but
the mind is so tricky. Take yours, for
instance. Is' it located in your brain?
You think so? How do you know?
When it thinks does it know WHERE
it thinks? No! It just knows THAT
it thinks.

Actually your mind could be doing
its thinking on the moon, for all you
know, and you would never be the
wiser so long as the senses through
which you became aware of things
operated from your body alone. The
brain could be a two way robot con-
trol running the body and in' contact
with the seat of thought on the moon.

AMAZiNS STORIES

It can't be proven that such isn't the
case.

In my case I have the same trouble,
but with added complications, because
the members of the **body" that I call
mine for the same reason you call
your little finger "yours" arc not all
physically connected, but able to
move separately in space and inde-
pendently.

For example, the cat. He is to me
like one of your fingers is to you.
Through the sense of touch you are
able to perceive things in a certain
way and in certain detail through
your finger. Also, by an effort of
will, you can manipulate the things
within reach of your finger to a cer-
tain extent. I do the same through
the cat.

He has a certain degree of freedom
and does certain habitual things when
I am not exactly concentrating on
him, just as your finger has a certain
amount of involuntary muscular ac-
tion and does certain habitual things
without your thinking of them at all.

And v/hen you concentrate your
attention on your finger exclusively,
letting the rest of your body and
senses idle, so to speak, I doubt if
your finger is any more aware of the
assumption of control over it than the
cat is when I concentrate my con-
scious mind and will in him.

I can at will "become" the cat in
exactly the same sense that you can at
will **become" your finger, — making
its every feeling fully conscious, and
its every slightest move completely
under the control of your will.

You do it through the connecting
nerves from the finger to the brain.
I do it— well I don't know HOW I
do it. I don't have any connecting
nerves from the cat to *'me" that I
know of nor do I know *\vhere" I do
my thinking.

I don't even use nerves to feel
through unless they are in living

things. I can be aware through the
banister on the stairs just as keenly
as through the hand that touches it.

T CAN feel the hand touch the rail
"*• and the rail touch the hand, just as
you can feel your hand touch your
chin and your chin touch your hand
when you rub your chin. There's no
real difference except that you do it
through neural force and I do it
through something that I don't know
any more about than you do.

But I'm not going to let my story
degenerate into a philosophical dis-
cussion that can't get anywhere. You
can argue about whether a fish thinks
and has a conscious mind and not get
anywhere. People HAVE done that
seriously. Well, I DO think, and I
have a conscious mind, and I am tell-
ing my story, or about to do so. I've
just been explaining about myself be-
cause I doubt if you would get any
sense out of the story otherwise.

I'd better do just a little more ex-
plaining. You might say that I'm the
spirit of a house, because my aware-
ness through inanimate things cen-
ters about the house and the grounds
and doesn't go any further. Yet my
awareness through the things that
live in the house extends even when
they go a long ways away. Also it
penetrates slowly into new things
that move into the house.

With new furniture it takes a few
weeks for me to be aware through it.
With people, — well ; some of them be-
come a part of me right away. Others
seem to have a shell about them that
makes them to me what a pebble
would be to your digestive system.
You'll sec what I mean; and before I
get through telling my story you'll
probable realize I DO exist, and that
there are millions of thinking, con-
scious — entities, for want of a better
term, that are just like me. It may

VIAL OF IMMORTALITY

well be that YOU are a part of one
without having ever suspected it be-
fore!

One more thing. The little finger
on your right hand can't become di-
rectly aware of the little finger on
your left hand. It can reach over and
touch it, twine itself about it, etc., but
can't reach through that system of
neural chanels and ^'contact" it di-
rectly and mentally. To be sure, it
can work in harmony with its mate
in the operation of typing, playing
the piano, and other things; but that
is through obeying the central intel-
ligence. And it obeys the central in-
telligence without being aware that
it is doing so. It's a one way circuit.

In the same way, I am aware
through the cat and the mice, and can
coordinate their moves just as you
coordinate the movements of your
two hands; but the cat and the mice
and the people and the house that are
ME can't be aware of me or reach up
into my mind and be aware of the
other members of my *'body" any
more than your two hands can.

You might say, **Well, if you are
so common, why don't more entities
like you use some person that is to
you like a hand is to me, and tell
their story?"

To that all I can say is, "You'd be
surprised. YOU'D BE SUR-
PRISED!"

And now to my story.

Y FIRST memories are of
spring ; beautiful, wonderful
spring with a breeze rattling the win-
dows and doors, the two mice in the
basement scurrying about caring for
their new family of seven little mice,
and the big old mangy tom cat under
the back steps eating a robin he just
caught, — with the smell and taste of
fresh, v/arm blood.

Ah! It was v/onderful! Those are
my firsf memories. Not my first, real-

ly ; but the first I care to recall.

Why SHOULD I recall anything
before that. It was all a mistake. Any-
way, the people were afraid of me.
ME! Imagine that! But what right
have you got to ask me about that?
Answer me! Listen to me, reader.
You are only supposed to read my
story, not start asking questions. Just
remember that and not be so curious
about what happened to the people
that used to live here. The real estate
people wouldn't tell you, so why
should I? I didn't do anything to
them. They did it to themselves. May-
be I helped them just a little, but not
much.

Anyhow —

While the cat was under the back
porch eating the robin I felt foot
steps on the front walk and pricked
up my ears. Maybe the for rent sign
was going to entice — I mean bring
some new owners.

A pleasant feminine voice was talk-
ing.

"Oh, isn't this house just darling,
Fred?" it said. "That roof is so cozy
looking the way it sweeps down and
protects the house with its wide
eaves. I think it would be perfect
with a coating of green shingle stain
and all that moss scraped off."

"Roof's in excellent shape." That
was Mr. Harris, the real estate man.
He had sold me — I mean the house,
four or five times already.

"Nice approach." The new voice
was Fred. "That front porch and
steps really set off the house. I like
it, don't you too, Edith?"

"I love it," Edith said, her voice
purring with anticipation. "The two
maple trees protect the house from
the sun, and look at those lovely flow-
ers. The lawn needs mowing, but its
thick and healthy."

"Intended to get a boy over to mow
the lawn this morning," Mr. Harris
said. "I'll see that it's done before

AMAZING STORIES

you move in."

'If we buy it," Fred corrected with
a chuckle.

**I don't think you'll pass it up,"
Mr. Harris said confidently. **It's a
steal at three thousand. If I had the
money I'd buy it myself instead of
selling for the owner. He needs the
money badly and priced it for a quick
sale."

nrliE QUICK nervous stride of
feminine shoes went tap-tap-tap
up the front steps to the porch. It
sent shivers of ecstacy through the
steps.

The mangy old tomcat under the
back steps lifted his head from the
robin and pricked up his pointed ears
while he licked the blood off his
whiskers thoughtfully.

The heavier strides of the two men
followed, and a key scraped in the
front door lock, then turned with a
snap and the door swung open.

A few cautious footsteps took the
three past the threshold, then there
was quiet.

I knew what was going on. You do
too. It's funny how people are so ma-
terialistic in their thinking and be-
liefs, yet will pause on a doorstep
and probe v/ith their psychic tendrils
like a half blind insect waving its
antennae.

Edith shivered half doubtfully.

"What a musty feeling this house
has," she exclaimed.

"Just needs a little airing out," Mr.
Harris said hastily. "You know how it
is. When a house is lived in the
housewife opens the windows to air
the place out, but when it's vacant we
have to keep the windows all closed
to protect the place from vandals and
the weather."

"Sure," Fred agreed. "That's all it
is, Edith."

Fred was smoking a pipe. The vel-
vety drapery of tobacco smoke

drifted across the room and blended
into the dance of glistening dust par-
ticles in the light that streamed in
through the windows,

"Solid oak flooring throughout the
house," Mr. Harris pointed out. "You
don't find that ordinarily in any-
thing under five thousand."

"The front room is just perfect,"
Edith said. I could tell she was mak-
ing an effort to shake off her fear.
Her mind was telling her that of
course the house needed airing.
"Don't you like the way that archway
divides the dining room from the big-
ger front room without really sepa-
rating them?"

"This house was designed by an
architect," Mr. Harris said. "So many
houses are just put together by a car-
penter without any architectural
sense. Notice how handy these two
closets are on either side of the front
entrance. Twenty guests could hang
their wraps there without crowding."

"Very nice," Fred approved.

"We have three doors," Mr. Harris
explained. "The one on the right
leads to the kitchen. It's a swinging
door. The center one leads to the
back hall which opens on the down-
stairs bathroom and master bedroom.
This one on the left is to the study,
music room, library, or sewing room,
— whichever you want to call it, a
nice nine by ten room with large win-
dows in it."

TTE OPENED the door to it and
'*' "■• led the way. He pointed out the
closet without opening its door. An-
other door led to the back hall with-
out having to re-enter the front of
the house.

"Everything's designed to be han-
dy," Mr. Harris said, waxing warm to
his subject. "The bathroom is acces-
sable to the front of the house, the
study, the kitchen, the master bed-
room, or even the upstairs, without

VIAL OF IMMORTALITY

having to cross any other part of the
house. It*s a little clumsy the way the
door to the stairs opens up against
the bedroom door here, and if I
owned the house and intended to live
in it I would just take the door to
the upstairs off and stick it in the
basement. The owner was going to do
that, then decided against it because
he never used the second floor and
this door kept the heat from going up.
Cut's down on fuel.'*

He led the way into the kitchen.

"The cellar stairs are right under
the ones to the second floor/* he said.
^'Notice how handy the kitchen is. No
extra miles of walking in THIS
kitchen. Cabinets galore, too. A place
to put everything. No breakfast nook,
but a nice airy window with plenty of
space for a breakfast table, Nice back
porch.'*

He threw open the back door to
show them. The mangy old tom cat
came out from under the back steps
and took the steps in one leap.

His tawny eyes sized Edith up
professionally and rubbed against her
nylons with just the right sliade of
pathetic loneliness to touch a warm
spot in her heart.

"Oh yes,** Mr. Harris chuckled. **He
goes with the place. Been here since
he was a kitten. Won*t leave."

Edith picked him up and he settled
down in her arms with his motor
purring loudly Happily content, he
licked the last vestiges of robin blood
from his whiskers.

"Two car garage,** Mr. Harris said
deprecatingly, pointing to it on the
back of the property. Then he led
the way into the kitchen.

"Upstairs are two bedrooms," he
said. Then, giving Edith a sly look
he added, "Plenty of room for the
family to expand.** He gave her an-
other look, decided the humor of his
remark had been lost, and turned his
mind back to the practicalities of sell-

ing the house. "Solid oak flooring
upstairs, too,** he tossed at them as
bait to make them interested.

Edith shivered.

"What's the matter, honey?** Fred
asked her.

"I don*t know," she said, laughing.
"I guess the cat — what's his name
anyway?"

**I don't know,'* Mr Harris said.
"Call him Tom ii you want to. That*s
'what I call him"

"I guess," Edith continued, "that
Tom must have made me shiver."

Mr. Harris led the way upstairs,
followed by Edith, carrying Tom,
and her husband Fred.

"All plastered walls and ceilings
all over the house,'* Mr. Harris said.
"The house Is a steal at three thou-
sand.** Cannily, he stopped talking to
give this hint a chance to do its work.

I could sen^c v hat was going on in
their minds. Edith was thinking of
her sister Ada, out of work and want-
ing to come to the city to look for a
job. A conflict there, —

Fred was thinking of the double
garage. It would be nice to have two
cars. He was wondering a little about
the lowness of the price for the
house, but not too much.

The mangy old cat was dreaming
of the return of days when he would
get a regular morning saucer of milk
and have a soft chair to curl up in.

Mr. Harris was feeling sorry for
Fred and Edith. "Business is busi-
ness," he kept repeating in his mind
to drown out the urge that made him
want to tell them about — well, about
the peculiar coincidence of so many
things happening to the people who
moved into this house.

I whispered into his mind that co-
incidences have a way of running out
and that TEIIS time everything
might work out O.K. . He seemed
quite happy about this thought, but I
had to spoil his happiness by chuck-

AMAZING STORIES

ling afterwards. This made him
frown. He hid the frown by starting
downstairs.

TVTELL, NO definite decision was

"^ reached in the house. Edith
dropped the cat reluctantly on the
front porch as they left.

I began to wonder if they had de-
cided against it after a couple of days
passed without them coming back.
But on the third day interior decora-
tors came and loafed around, manag-
ing to do an incredible amount of
painting without exerting themselves.
1 ignored them

Three days after that a moving van
stopped in front. I moved the mangy
old cat around to the front of the
house behind a shrub and watched
what went on.

Edith drove up and unlocked the
front door with a proprietary air. Af-
ter that th:re was a bustle of activity
ail over ce.

A boy came at noon and mowed the

la.vn. The meter man came and

.e lights. The water de-

pariment truck drove up and a man

turned on the water.

At five o'clock another truck came
v.nd a man put in a telephone. By that
time Edith was busy in the kitchen,
tp.king dishes out of barrels, pots and
pans out of boxes, and food out of
the carton the moving men had taken
out of her car.

At six when everything had quieted
down somewhat there v/as a light step
on the front porch and Fred came in.

"I'm home, honey," he shouted.
. Edith bustled out of the kitchen,
her mind purring v/ith happiness. It
was a very touching scene, but I've
seen it before. Impractical. I like
the practical outlook in life. Some-
thing like th cat's. Direct and to the
point without a lot of flowery sen-
timent. However there was nothing
I could do about it yet.

Just as YOU can't teach yourself
control over your muscles in a day so
that you can bowl a perfect score or
play a perfect game of tennis or swim
as fast as a world champion. I too
have limitations which only time can
erase. Time and patience. They con-
quer all.

XT WAS the next day that Edith
"^ broke her leg by falling down the
cellar steps. Don't blame me. It was
her fault, really. I only intended to
scare her a little.

You see, I knew she was going to
go down to the basement, so I had
the little papa mouse climb half way
up the steps. When she opened the
cellar door I suggested to him that if
he remained still she wouldn't see
him.

Then when she was on the step
above him I told him if he didn't run
he might get stepped on. He ran, all
right.

It frightened Edith so much she
forgot where she was and jumped like
there might be a table or a chair han-
dy to land on. When she came down
her leg caught crooked and snapped.
The fall down the rest of the steps
with that broken leg made her pass
out.

It's to my credit, I suppose, that I
reached out and put the idea into Mr.
Harris's mind that it would be a good
time to drop around and see how the
new owners were faring. He arrived
shortly after Edith came to. She
heard his knock and screamed like all
getout.

The look on his face when he stood
at the head of the stairs and saw her
laying there with her leg all twisted
was something to look at. He looked
like he had done it himself. I watched
the whole thing through the eyes of
the little mama mouse where she hid
behind a lump of coal near the fur-
nace.

VIAL OF IMMORTALITY

Mr. Harris had quite a time con-
vincing Edith she had to remain
where she was until the doctor came,
but on his solemn promise to come
right back she let him go up into the
kitchen and phone for the doctor and
her husband.

Well, they bustled Edith off to the
hospital on a stretcher and Fred went
with her. He came back about ten
o'clock that night looking like he had
been on a week end drunk and it was
Monday morning. He hadn't been
drinking at all. That was just the way
he looked. •

I had some fun that night for the
first time in quite a while. Whenever
he went to sleep I painted him a pic-
ture of Edith in some terrible pre-
dicament while he was enjoying him-
self at work. One time she would be
lying in the basement with a broken
leg for days while he went on a trip
all over the country. Another time
she would be trapped in a closet with
the door stuck.

Along towards morning I thought
up a really good one. It had him
sweating. Edith was in bed with a big
cast on her leg, unable to move, and
the house was burning down around
her. He v/as outside trying to get in
and the firemen were dragging him
back while Edith's dying screams tor-
tured him. He woke up from that
one and was afraid to go back to
sleep.

Instead, he went into the front
room and wrote a letter. Then he tore
it up and went into the kitchen to the
phone and sent a telegram to Edith's
sister for her to come right away.

I liked that.

nPHE SISTER Ada must have been
packed and ready to start when
she got the telegram, because she ar-
rived the next afternoon. I don't
know WHERE she came from. I nev-
er found out, and in these days of

travel by air she could have come a
thousand miles from any direction.

Anyway, she got here. It was six
o'clock and Fred was fixing himself
something to eat; a can of beans, a
can of soup, some coffee, a couple of
slices of bread, with a cupcake for de-
sert, — the regular batchelor dinner of
a married man when his wife's away,
unless he has a yen to be a cook lurk-
ing somewhere in his subconscious.

There's a weak spot in the hot wa-
ter pipe just under the sink that I
was getting ready to let go, just to
annoy Fred and make him miss his
dinner before going to see Edith that
evening, when the front doorbell
rang. It was Ada. She had come out
in a taxi. I saved the weak spot in the
hot water pipe for some time.

I settled into Fred's subconscious
and took a good look at Ada. She
was worth looking at. Blond like her
sister, but a couple of years younger,
— around twenty. A little better look-
ing, which is splitting hairs because

I classified her five minutes after
she arrived. Predatory where Fred
was concerned. A match for me. I
could see right away I was going to
have a pretty good time before many
days went by. I could see that by the
way Ada's eyes lit up when Fred
told her Edith was still at the hospi-
tal and couldn't come home until the
next day.

Edith was well over the line where
beauty begins. But where Edith's
curves were nice to look at, Ada's
were fascinating. Even Fred knew
that.

Unfortunately, women have minds
as well as bodies. They have tongues
that are linked to both, and that was
where Edith had it over her sister
Ada. She was nice enough. Fred liked
her. In fact he more than liked her.
He was drawn by her physical charms
and repelled by her mental lack of
charm compared to her sister.

AMAZING STORIES

Well, Ada put on the capable fe-
male act, taking over the job of fix-
ing Fred a decent dinner^ using one
of Edith's aprons to good effect. It
was worth a chuckle to see how Fred
tried to down the thought that rose
to his mind how much nicer Ada
filled out the apron than Edith had.
And with Edith in the hospital suf-
fering with a broken leg! What a
heel ! But sometimes a man can't con-
trol his eyes or his thoughts any
more than I can control them. All he
can do is steer them.

A DA AND Fred left a little after
^^ seven for the hospital to see
Edith. Fred was worrying a little. He
knew that Edith wouldn't like having
Ada alone in the house with him all
night. However, he was afraid to sug-
gest to Ada that she'd better stay
home and tell Edith the next day that
she'd just arrived.

And he didn't know that Ada had
nearly broken her neck to get there
the same day in the hope that Edith
WOULDN'T be able to be home
right away.

They forgot to put the cat out be-
fore they left, so I amused myself
while they were gone by having the
cat prowl around the basement look-
ing for mice.

The poor little mama mouse was
frantic with fear that he might find
her nest with all her babies in it. I
purposely made him lie down and go
to sleep after awhile not three feet
from where the nest was hidden in an
old apple box. Every time he
twitched his whiskers the mama
mouse had a fit! Mother love is sure
something. There that mama mouse
sat, guarding her offspring with her
life. I honestly think she would have
let the mangy old cat catch her to
save her young, but I wouldn't
think of doing that. After all, when
the people were gone all I'd have to

amuse me would be the cat and the
mice, and the mangy old cat wouldn't
be able to get inside then, either.

THRED AND Ada got back abeut
'■' eleven. They'd stopped someplace
and had a decent meal and a few
drinks of beer.

It's moments like that I live for.
One thing I have to say for Ada;—
she knew what she was doing.

Fred showed her to her bedroom
and carried her bags upstairs for her.
Then he went to the front room and
settled down in an easy chair and
started reading the evening paper.

Ada came downstairs and ran some
water in the bathtub. Then she went
into the front room and asked Fred
where the towels, were. Her bathrobe
was draped a little carelessly. Not
open; Nothing vulgar. But just so it
looked like it might come open at
every step she took.

Her blonde hair was combed out so
that it hung about her shoulders. The
neck of the bathrobe was partly open,
— revealingly, but not too revealingly.

She had studied her appearance in
front of the bathroom mirror before
going into the living room and ar-
ranged her bathrobe very carefully.

There's no question about it. She
was a very alluring sight, standing in
the doorway from the hall, one leg
showing up to the knee, her hair
hanging around her shoulders in sub-
tle undress, and a generous expanse
of skin showing below her chin.

She lowered her eyes at Fred's
startled gaze when she asked him for
a towel. I thought for a minute he
was going to tell her where one v/as.
That's where he made his mistake. He
decided to get her one.

Well, they were even there, be-
cause she knew where they were too.
They were in the linen closet in the
bathroom.

While he was reaching to get one

VIAL OF IMMORTALITY

she loosened the knot on the rope
that tied around the bathrobe a little
more.

He reached down a towel and
turned to hand it to her. She reached
for it quite naturally and was quite
properly embarrassed when her robe
came open.

It was at that point I concluded she
should have become a great actress
instead of wasting her time on penny
ante stuff.

She exclaimed in embarrassed
alarm and reached to draw her robe
about her. Then suddenly she turned
quite pale and her hands paused in
midair.

She closed her eyes and turned her
face up. Her lips were partly open.

TV^ELL, — it*s not hard to guess
^^ what Fred might have done.
His wife was in the hospital with a
broken leg and he loved her very
much even without the broken leg.
Also he wasn't a cad or a wolf. Just
the same he was human.

But Ada reckoned without me. She
had done all that strictly on her own,
so to speak, and it was so good I was
beginning to feel a little outclassed.
Of course it didn't compare in finesse
with anything I could do. Fundamen-
tally it was vulgar. It was done in
such a way that Fred would have
been convinced later that it was
all his fault. Perhaps Ada could have
made him wonder if he hadn't mar-
ried Edith because he loved Edith's
sister.

There would have been the driving
wedge of a baby on the way, (whether
there was or not), the outraged wife
who would quite rightly leave her
husband and get a divorce, and then
Ada would have what she wanted, —
Fred. It didn't happen that way
though.

Ada stood there, her arms partly
raised as if arrested in the movement

of her bathrobe about her, her face
slightly lifted, her eyes closed, her
lips partly open, her breath coming
fast, her heart beating frantically ; ex-
pecting each instant to feel Fredas
strong arms crush her to him. She
waited for his lips to bruise hers in
passion, to feel his fevered breath
against her cheek, his crushing em-
brace.

Perhaps ten full seconds went by
and it didn't happen. She opened her
eyes feeling the same wondering un-
belief a person might feel if he
leaped over the edge of a thousand
foot cliff to his death and opened his
eyes to find himself floating in the
air in violation of the laws of grav-
ity.

This feeling was succeeded by a
symphony of varying emotions which
is to me what a Beethoven is to a
musician.

You see, Fred was standing there,
the towel dangling in his hand, and a
bored grin on his face. His eyes were
laughing at her.

"Devastatingly corny," he said.
Then he draped the towel over her
shoulder and left the bathroom, a
hearty, amused chuckle drifting back
from his departing figure like a slap
in the face.

Of course, Ada could not guess that
it was not Fred, but / with whom she
was dealing at that moment. The
shock to Fred's equilibrium in that
moment when he had turned from the
linen closet to see her bathrobe fall
open, her face lift, her eyes close, and
her lips part in surrender, had been
just enough to make it possible for
me to take over completely.

When he got back to the front
room and sat down to continue read-
ing the evening paper he had a vague
idea that he had closed his eyes and
handed over the towel and then es-
caped from an embarrassing situation
quite gracefully. In fact, he felt quite

100

AMAZING STOR1E5

pleased with himself.

I^OT SO With Ada. Poor girl. Her
pride had received a mortal
blow. For a full five minutes she
stood trembling, mentally killing
Fred in the most horrible ways im-
aginable. I noted with considerable
satisfaction that she had quite a su-
periority complex, and that this
blov/ would not go unavenged.

Her mind was much like that of the
mangy old torn cat in that it was sim-
ple and practical and tended to pick
some objective and work toward that
until it gained it. She would not be
satisfied with a mediocre revenge.
Not her.

x\nd what she might lack in — fi-
ness, yours truly would be GLAD to
supply.

Oh, but it was good to have the
warmth of human emotion to bask in
once again • to play upon it as a great
musician plays an organ in a cathe-
dral, to dwell upon the rich overtones
and chords, lightly cascade across the
melody and improvise my own varia-
tions to enliven the theme. And as a
Rubinstein would tuck a violin of
rare richness of tone m.ore lovingly
under his chin and caress its strings
more fondly, so I settled more se-
curely about the aura of Ada and
soothed the pulsating throb of her
heart with my gentlest mental touch,
smoothing the folds of her ruffled
temper into a shape more suited to
my desires.

The strength of her rage and thwart-
ed passion flov/ed into me and I grew
strong, — stronger than I had been for
a long time. I grew too greedy and
drained more of her life force into
my being than she could reasonably
spare. It wasn*t my fault, really. I
didn't realize what I was doing until
she swayed dizzily as she was getting
into the tub. Then it was too late to
do anything about it. She slipped and

fell, hitting her head against the tub
faucets.

Then she slipped into the tub and
pretty soon the water rose high
enough in the tub to cover her head.
I knew she was going to drown if I
didn't do something, so I tried to get
Fred to rush in and save her.

He wouldn't have any of it. I
screamed into his brain that Ada was
lying in the tub unconscious. Do you
know what he answered? He thought
I was just an evil part of his subcon-
scious trying to whomp up an excuse
for him to break into the bathroom.

He said to himself, "How would it
look if I rushed in there while she
was bathing and said, 'Oh, you're all
right! I thought you were drown-
ing.'?"

Finally I gave up trying and went
back to Ada. There was no use
WASTING her life energy when I
could use it ALL, was there? I felt
very sorry for her and very ashamed
of myself right then ; but the new en-
ergy in my system soon buoyed up
my spirits.

TT WAS NEARLY an hour later
"*• before Fred began to worry about
his presentimemt, as he called it, and
the substantiating fact that the water
was still running. He knocked on the
bathroom door and called, "Are you
all right, Ada?"

He kept knocking and calling for a
couple of minutes before he worked
up nerve enough to open the door and
peek in. Then he rushed in and
turned the water off. After that he
just stood there and looked at Ada's
dead body lying under the water
with one knee breaking the surface.
He was sort of dazed.

Finally he went into the kitchen to
the phone and called the doctor that
had fixed his wife's leg. After he
hung up he started back to the bath-
room, then went out on the front

VIAL OF IMMORTALITY

101

porch instead and sat on the steps
smoking cigarets until the doctor
came.

I tried my best to comfort him. He
wouldn't listen to my voice, so final-
ly I made the tom cat come around
and rub against his legs and purr.
That helped a little.

The doctor stopped his car out in
front and came up the front walk
with his short legs going almost at a
run to keep up with him. Wordlessly
Fred led him to the bathroom.

The doctor reached under the wa-
ter and pulled the plug. Then he
changed his mind and put it back in
again, and went into the kitchen and
called the police. After that he went
back to the bathroom and just looked
at Ada's body without touching it.

When the police came they looked
at it too. They even took pictures of
it.

After awhile another doctor came.
They called him the coroner. He and
the other doctor made everybody get
out of the bathroom and stop looking
at Ada's body. Then they drained the
water out of the tub and turned her
over where they could get a better
look at the place where her head had
hit the faucet.

They talked about it, but I couldn't
get what they were saying. You see,
I get what people say by what they
think, and some people are impossible
to read. They seem to have shells
around them like I said at the start
of my story. These two doctors were
like that.

Right after the doctors went out of
the bathroom the one called the coro-
ner said something in a low voice to
one of the policemen. I got that. They
were taking Fred down an<i locking
him up for his own protection. They
were afraid from the way he looked
that he might harm himself. The
shock of having his wife break her
leg, and then his sister-in-law drown

in the bathtub the next day was too
much, they thought. He should have
time to get used to it.

Well, that didn't bother me. I liked
Fred, and with all the new life Ada
had supplied me it was easy to hang
onto Fred all the way down to the
police station.

TJTHEN THEY locked him up he
^^ sat down on the edge of the cot
in the cell and thought and thought
and thought. I didn't like that, be-
cause I could see in what direction
his thoughts were going. The trouble
with him was that he was superstiti-
ous. He had a superstitious idea that
trouble always comes in threes.

Finally he did what I feared he was
going to do. He definitely made up
his mind he would never set foot in
the house again. He was going to call
the real estate man the first thing in
the morning and tell him to sell it
over again.

I could see myself living alone once
more with nothing but the cat kill-
ing birds and the mice raising baby
mice in the basement. I could see
Fred meant it.

Well, it took a lot of energy to bang
onto Fred way down at police head-
quarters, and when I let go I wouldn't
be able to contact him again. I would
be all alone maybe for months.

I didn't really mean to do him any
harm. It was just that I couldn't
bring myself to cast off, and all the
time I was draining life energy out
of him. Along toward morning he got
so weak and cold that it was impossi-
ble to hang on any longer.

It was sure lonely in the house all
by myself. I dozed most of the time,
leaving only fine threads of awareness
connected with the mangy old tom
cat and the mice in the basement.
These would awaken me if anyone
came, but no one did.

It wasn't until after dark that a

102

AMA4iNG STORIES

nervous flutter in the mind of the
mama mouse aroused me from my
sleep. She had heard footsteps on the
front porch.

I prodded the cat and made him
run around to the front of the house
so that I could get a good look at
the people before trying to make con-
tact with them directly.

You see, I knew I had gone too far
with Edith, Ada, and Fred. Through
no fault of my own I was likely to
get a bad reputation!

I peeked at them through the cat's
eyes around the corner of the house.
There were two men. One was the
doctor that had fixed Edith's broken
leg, and also come when Ada had died
in the bathtub.

The other man was a stranger; a
heavy man with an enormous stomach
and short, pudgy fingers.

The doctor was unlocking the door.
When they stepped into the house I
"felt" of the new man. Then I re-
ceived a surprise. Two surprises, in
fact. The first one was that he was
perfectly aware that I was "feeling"
him. The second was that he seemed
to know all about me and wanted to
be friendly!

That was new to me. Everyone I
had ever known had been so stupid
that when I spoke to them they
thought it was their own mind. But
he was different. He KNEW.

I guess I was so glad to find some-
one to REALLY talk to that I for-
got myself. I started to settle into his
aura and make myself at home. Then
I got my third surprise.

When I got so far into his aura I
received a distmct shock that made
me see stars. It threw me completely
out of balance and I had a hard time
getting it back. After I had recovered
enough to speak to the man again I
found out he had done it deliberately.
He wanted to be friends, but he
knew his stuff and would stand for

no nonsense ! That was a new experi-
ence for me and I didn't know
whether I liked it or not at first.

WyTE TALKED with each other for
^^ perhaps an hour after that and
got quite well acquainted. I told him .
all about how lonely I was, and that I
had only the old mangy tom cat and
the mice for my life contacts most of
the time.

He seemed to know just what 1
needed. He was a doctor too. Dr.
Schwick. He said, "What you need is
some sort of mental outlet. You need
a large appreciative audience. To get
that you should write your story."

He said he knew someone who was
good at what he called automatic
writing. He would bring that fellow
with his typewriter, and all I would
have to do would be to think out the
details of my story and they would
translate themselves into words in his
mind, and flow out through his fin-
gers into the typewriter.

He left right after that, but he
promised to come back the next night
with this other fellow. After he left
I could think of nothing else but my
chance to write.

He was as good as his word, too.
The next night he and the other doc-
tor and a young man with a portable
typewriter came.

I only hope my story makes people
realize that I am worth knowing. I
can ju^t see the days to come when I
am famous, with dozens of people
coming to the house. Some of them
will be so nice! I can take just a
little of their life force and become
very strong. Then I won't need to
hurt anybody at all.

I never want to hurt anybody, but
when people are afraid of me, and
only two or three people come around
in a year, I get just starved for hu-
man warmth and emotion. And things
always seem to work against me, —

VIAL OF IMMORTALITY

109

like Edith falling and breaking her

leg.

* * *

nnHE TYPEWRITER stopped. So

monotonous had become its

rhythmic chatter that it seemed to

continue after it had stopped in fact.

Dr. Schwick had slowly moved
around to where he could watch the
face of the woman. It had a strange,
compelling fascination for him with
its other-world beauty and eyes that
were limpid pools of bottomless
night, seeming to open into realms
where vague forms danced a devil
dance around distant fires in the mad
rites of witchcraft long gone into the
limbo of the past.

Slowly the white, slender fingers
emerged from the skull of the seated
man until they once more poised over
him. Then the red lips of the woman
parted to reveal her needle sharp
teeth, and she bent slowly forward,
her head turning slightly so that it
could rest against his neck.

Dr. Schwick stepped close. A shock
seemed to grip the vampire creature
and she sprung away, her face turn-
ing to a mask of rage.

The doctor faced her, protecting
the seated form of the young man
while the misty form of its dupli-
cate swirled back through the thread
of white into the body once more.

Orville stirred and rubbed his eyes
as if he had been asleep. Then Dr.
Bowden dared to ask the question
in his mind.

"Can you tell where it is from
what she wrote?'' he asked eagerly.

**I think I know now," Dr. Schwick
said. "But perhaps we can make sure.
Follow me, both of you, but keep
behind me.*'

He advanced toward the vampire,
who was now snarling and spitting
like a cat, her features more than
beautiful even in the paroxysms of
insane rage.

Slowly the creature retreated as
the doctor advanced. And as he ad-
vanced the other doctor and Orville
followed at his back.

This strange advance led through
a doorway into the kitchen and half
way across the kitchen.

Suddenly the vampire figure van-
ished.

"Quickly!" Dr. Schwick shouted.
His short legs carried him in agile
leaps toward the door to the base-
ment. As he bounded down the steps
in the darkness his eyes darted
around the basement. They saw a
momentary flash of white over in one
corner. Then it was gone.

"The lights!" Dr. Schwick shouted.

Dr. Bowden turned on his flash-
light and found the light switch. The
basement was flooded with a blind-
ing glare that revealed every detail.

Grim faced, he walked to a pile
of boards in a far corner and started
pulling them away. The two men
joined him and shortly the concrete
floor began to appear.

Orville moved a board and there
was a swift scampering of small
things as they fled out of sight.

"The mice," Dr. Schwick said with
a satisfied tone. "I was right. They
had to be as close as possible to her
grave so that she could hold contact
through them during the daytime
when her strength was at ebb tide."

"But this is solid concrete," Dr.
Bowden objected.

"Yes," Dr. Schwick said regret-
fully. "We'll have to come back to-
morrow with some workmen to break
through. There's nothing more we
can do tonight. Let's get out of
here."

They turned to leave.

On the cellar steps the cat stood
barring the way. It's back was arched
and its hair on end. It snarled at
them.

Dr. Schwick reached into his coat

104

AMAZING STORIES

and pulled out a small, caliber auto-
matic and shot the cat. It fell back.
Its eyes remained open, looking at
the doctor mutely as he stood there
with the gun in his hand.

It mewed faintly, and just before
its eyes grew dull in death there
seemed to appear a look of gratitude
and thanks for its release.

ff T TELL you it's utterly insane."
■^ The police captain said it
in a tired, monotonous way like he
had said it so much that he no long-
er realized he was saying it.

"Look at that floor. Look at itl"
he repeated. "That concrete is at
least ten years old.**

"Fourteen," Dr. Schwick corrected.
"I looked it up at the building in-
spector's office the first thing this
morning."

"All right! It's fourteen years old
then," the captain said. "And it
hasn't been touched in fourteen years.
How by all that's holy can you know
that there is a body under this spot?"

"You don't have to believe me,"
Dr. Schwick said tolerantly. "You'll
find it when you break through and
dig. I doubt if you'll have to dig far.
It will be the body of a woman who
is very beautiful, not over thirty
years old, and in a perfect state of
preservation. It won't be embalmed
but it will be as fresh as the day it
was lain there. The clothing will
have rotted away, proving how long
it has been there. Now dig and prove
me a liar."

The police captain's lips moved as
if he were trying to speak. He gave
up the attempt and turned to order
the two v/orkmen to start breaking
the concrete floor.

A large rectangle was drawn on
the floor where Dr. Schwick had
marked the area he wanted broken
open.

A grinning newspaper photogra-

pher snapped a shot of the scene
with one of the workmen with a
large sledge hammer poised over his
head as he prepared for the down-
ward swing. The picture was taken at
a perfect angle to get in the expres-
sion of frustrated rage and puzzle-
ment on the captain's features and
the unruffled calm of Dr. Schwick.

The first two blows rebounded
with a hollow sound. The third
cracked the concrete with a dead
sound. After that it was quick work
to spread the break over the whole
area and lift off the broken pieces.

Before the area had been more than
a third uncovered one of the work-
men gave a gasp of excitement and
redoubled his efforts.

The body lay just under where the
concrete had been. It was obvious
that a shallow grave had been dug, —
just deep enough to hold the body;
and the concrete had been poured
over it.

It was covered with a shroud of
mouldering black cloth which pulled
away in pieces.

Y\R. SCHWICK stepped forward

*^ and tore away the covering over
the head, revealing a face white and
beautiful and so lifelike that he
would not have been surprised if the
nostrils had quivered and the body
had started breathing.

Dr. Schwick turned to Dr. Bowden
and the coroner.

"I would suggest you cremate this
body before nightfall," he said with
quiet earnestness.

Dr. Beasley, the coroner, bent over
the body of the woman and tore off
more of the rotten cloth.

His face was slightly grey. His
hand reached reluctantly toward his
black bag, hesitating as if he were
trying to resist doing what he
wanted to do.

VIAL OF IMMORTALITY

105

With shaking hands he took out
a hypodermic syringe and inserted
it into a vein of the corpse and slow-
ly pulled b?£k on the plunger. An
evily red fluid crept up into the
glass tube. The three doctors watched
it hypnotically. They were oblivious
of the flash bulbs shot off by the
press photographer.

When the police captain saw the
blood running into the syringe from
a corpse that had to be at least four-
teen years dead he turned a light
shade of green and sat down on the
floor.

ffVOU MIGHT think everything
•*" startling had happened al-
ready in that story," Dr. Schwick
said. He was talking to a small circle
of friends many months later. "In the
ordinary course of events you would
think the coroner would take my ad-
vice and cremate the body at once.
He did, actually. But he kept the
sample of blood and took it to his
laboratory for analysis.

"Also the police began tracking
down the first owner of that house
in order to solve the crime. There
wasn't a mark on the body to show
any sign of violence; but, as Dr.
Bowden remarked, any wound could
have healed up in that fourteen years.
At least it was no more improbable
than the obvious fact that the blood
had not coagulated and the unem-
balmed body hadn't decomposed.

"They finally found the man. He
had moved to another city but had
not changed his name. They brought
him back and accused him of mur-
dering his wife, for that was who
the woman was.

**The man told a curious story. He
said his wife had been a student of
the occult and had been getting po-
tions of various sorts from a mail
order occult school that were sup-
posed to put her in a trance. She had

become so fascinated with the work
that she barely remained conscious
long enough each day to take care
of bodily needs.

"He had not believed in all that,
but had let her go her way because
he didn't know what else he could
do. He had remonstrated with her
several times without any success.
One day she did not wake up from
her nightly, drug induced trance. He
tried everything he could think of
short of calling a doctor. Every at-
tempt to waken her failed.

"After three days of that he be-
came convinced she was dead. He
had visions of a doctor disbelieving
his story and him being accused of
murder.

"At the time the basement of the
house did not have a floor, but was
just concrete walls with a dirt floor.
"He had no intimate friends, and
aside from him his wife had no rela-
tives in the world. It would be quite
simple to dispose of the body and
move away. No one would ever miss
his wife and report it.

"He obtained the building permit
to lay a concrete floor and did it
himself, laying his wife's body in a
shallow grave before pouring the con-
crete.

"When asked about the nature of
the drug he did not have the slight-
est idea. He couldn't remember the
name of the company his wife had
bought it from, nor where they were
located. The police were at a dead
end. They could hardly convict the
man of murder under the circum-
stances. They dropped the case and
scratched it off the books.

"Not so the coroner. He had that
sample of blood and had been doing
things with it. It seems he was one
of the most outstanding technicians
in the country in spite of his posi-
tion as a coroner.
"In two months he subjected that

106

AMAZING STORIES

sample to the most advanced analy-
sis possible in this day and age. He
found out several things. They cast
a great deal of light into the ancient
mystery of vampirism, although they
raise a greater one about where the
mail order company that sold the
drug to the woman had obtained it.

ffT^R. BEASLEY took half his

*^ blood sample and made
plasma out of it. He injected a drop
of this plasma into each of six white
rats. Nothing happened for ten days,
then all six of the rats lost conscious-
ness. All signs of respiration stopped
completely. The heart stopped beat-
ing. Yet day after day those six rats
remained unchanged. Their blood re-
mained fluid. Their body tempera-
tures dropped down until they were
fluctuating with the change of room
temperature, yet the blood in those
rats remained fluid, gradually thick-
ening and growing darker as body
liquid evaporated.

"After another ten days had passed
one of the rats began to undergo an-
other change. His gradually dwin-
dling body expanded to normal over-
night. The body fluid had increased
to normal unexplainably. This con-
tinued. The other five rats soon
dried out, yet this one rat did not.

"With the idea of vampirism upper-
most in the doctor's mind he watched
the living rats closely and soon could
detect signs of weakening vitality
among them.

"He tried an experiment. He took
the supposedly vampire rat into an-
other part of the building and put
a young and healthy rat in a cage
near it. The next morning the young
rat was seemingly dead.

"The scientific mind of the cor-
oner, now completely absorbed by the
problem, overlooked n o possible
clues. He did not destroy the body
of the rat victim, but put it with the

others that had apparently died. It too
became a successful vampire.

"The astral mechanism of vampir-
ism did not concern the doctor. He
believed he had something material
in this that he could deal with, and
he intended going no farther than
laboratory technique could carry him.
The supernatural aspects could wait.

"He took more of the plasma, and
plasma made from the infected, dead
rats. He filtered this fluid to remove
all bacteria and injected the fluid in
a fresh batch of rats. Some of them
became vampires and all of them lost
consciousness permanently.

"At last he could definitely prove
that vampirism is caused by a filter-
able virus. This explained the fact
that vampires can turn their victims
into vampires, by infecting them with
this virus while sucking their blood.

"He subjected the fluid containing
the virus to all kinds of tests to de-
termine its stability, the possibility
of analysing its chemical structure,
etcetera. Finally he turned to the
hystology and studied the effects on
the rats themselves.

"I dropped in to see him almost
every day and so did Dr. Bowden.
We three were more or less working
together on it, although Dr. Beasely
did all the work.

"After a month of dissection and
tissue analysis we arrived at a star-
tling conclusion. The virus gave the
blood cells remarkably increased vi-
tality and made them so they could
thrive and multiply and move about.
They ceased their subservient role
in the body, no longer supplying the
tissue with oxygen and carrying
away poisons. The waste products
of metabolism of these changed cells
deposited on the walls of tissue cells
and sealed them completely so that
the structure of the body did not de-
teriorate. Strangely, the nerve tissue
and the brain did not lose out, but

VIAL OF IMMORTALITY

lOT

seemed to remain alive and function-
ing. In some way the metabolism of
the nervous system seemed to become
a part of the new organism. It
seemed certain that in a human vam-
pire the brain could remain conscious
and alive while the body was intact,

f^^OW I HAD my clue to the
•*• ^ supernatural aspects of vam-
pirism, if not to the astral mecha-
nism of the thing. While the brain
lived and remained conscious, it
could go on developing. It would be,
in effect, in the trance state perma-
nently, so that the soul could go and
come at will.

"The material or scientific ex-
planation of the transfer of blood
from the living to the inanimate ma-
terial form of the vampire is probably
beyond the ability of present science
to fathom. Yet, in psychic phenomena
we have teleportation as a well
authenticated phenomena. The spirit
of the vampire, freed of its mortal
distractions and faced with the nec-
essity of supplying the nourishment
for its physical form with the in-
struments of the spirit alone, un-
doubtedly solves that problem and
carries on the practice of draining
the life blood from living mortals.

"Naturally, since all tissue in the
body of the vampire becomes inactive
and ^icaled against decay by the pre-
servative waste products of the blood
cells infected with the virus, food
that has to be digested is out of the
quesrion. Also by the same token, it
prohibly takes very little actual
nour shment to keep the vampire go-
ing. A pint of blood now and then
to supply added vitality to the blood
stream which now circulates by the
active movement of the individual
cells rather than by the pumping of
the heart, and perhaps a little mois-
ture unless the body is placed
where evaporation cannot take place.

"Finally the study was completed
short of actual experiment on peo-
ple which we naturally could not
bring ourselves to do.

"We dared not publish our results.
Yet we felt that the knowledge we
had gained might someday prove in-
valuable to the human race. So we
made three vials of the virus fluid
and sealed them safely. Also we made
three copies of the report on the ex-
periments on parchment bond paper
and placed a copy with each of the
vials. One we sent to the Vatican.
The second we sent to the President,
and the third we sent to the Ameri-
can Medical Association.

"Perhaps we did wrong. If one
of those vials and reports got into
the wrong hands, — the hands of one
who desired immortality in the flesh
at any price ; it could very well mean
the return of the vampirism that
flourished in the dark ages. That
would be an awful thing, and our
materialistic civilization would be an
easy prey for vampirism since it has
come by modern tradition to consider
all such things impossible and the
product of deranged minds.**

Dr. Schwick shook his head dole-
fully.

"Yes,** he said. "The more I think
of it the more I believe we should
have destroyed every trace of those
experiments and kept the thing
quiet.'*

He sighed and reached down be-
side his chair for the apple cider
jug and refilled his glass.

Ten white faces watched him si-
lently. He looked at those faces and
was reassured as to the safety of the
secret he had just told them. NONE
OF THEM BELIEVED HIM. And
in his heart he hoped that those vials
and accompanying reports had been
destroyed by their recipients because
they refused to believe too. But her
wasn't sure.

OMEGA

By
GUY AIICHETTK

Death had been decreed for all beings
on the Garth. Thus the Varu came to carry
out the orders. Vtut man refused to die • • •

COMMANDER Thai Odan of
the Varu Extermination fleet
gestured something of weari-
ness at the faces that peered out at
him from the facets of the communi-
grid. "You all know what to do.
We've done this so many times be-
fore Only this need I s/y — let

none of the Earthlings escape."

The heads framed in the facets
nodded. There was a flurry of arms
raised in salute. Then the images
moved out of focus, and Thai Odan
flicked off the communi-grid.

Thai Odan drew a deep breath. He
stared into a far distance, and what-
ever he saw there brought a burn of
mingled relief, pain, and triumph
into his deep-set, yellow eyes. There
was not a little pain.

Let none escape. . .

Thai Odan shook his head slowly.
It was not to his liking — but he had
his orders. He was a soldier who had
been trained, and well, to obey or-
ders.

Turning to the inter-ship commu-
nicator, Thai Odan signalled the

control room.

"Bring the ship over the scene of
operations, and hold it there."

"Aye, sir," the voice of the flight
officer answered.

The hum of the .propulsion en-
gines deepened, held, then faded.
Thai Odan moved to a viewport and
looked out. His vessel was hovering

motionless high above the others. As
commander of the extermination
fleet. Thai Odan was not partici-
pating in what was taking place
down there. He was rather thankful
for this.

Thai Odan looked down. He didn't
actually want to look, but his eyes
were drawn down by a curious fasci-

The great ship loosed terrible rays of destructive force, and the village was annihilated , , t

109

110

AMAZING STORIES

nation. This was a momentous occa-
sion, and was not to be missed, for
its like would never be seen again.
The ships of the Varu, looking
strangely like spheres cut through
the center by a disc, were swooping
and darting about something down
there on the ground. It was almost
unrecognizable now, but Thai Odan
knew that but moments ago it had
been a village of Earthlings, a clever-
ly camouflaged collection of small,
wooden huts. The terrible K7 an-
nihilation beams of the fleet were
blasting the village and its occu-
pants to atoms.

The last remnant of the race which
had once populated the planet Earth
so thickly was being exterminated.

It was this knowledge that held
Thai Odan's eyes intent and awed
on the scene below. The last of a
mighty race being wiped from the
face of the planet that had spawned

them A last handful being sent

to join the millions and millions
that had already gone to that far-off
land of the dead.

One pitiful village— an easy tar-
get for the annihilation beams of the
Varu. And the work of the beams
was almost done. On all the planet
there were no other villages, for
these and the mighty cities which
had preceded them had already met
the fate of the village below. The
last trace of the being called Man
and his handiwork— obliterated.

Earth, now, for the Varu. Earth,
with its green fields, tossing seas,
and its bright-blue sky strewn with
clouds.

Thai Odan looked away. The work
of the beams was done.

IN THE bright-blue sky that was
theirs now, the Varu ships cruised
slowly, searching. Their beams
probed the shadows in the forest be-

low, raked the fields that spread
away on either side, and rooted
among the tumbled rocks and boul-
ders that littered the slopes of the
hills that had stopped the advance
of the forest. Then, one by one, they
settled to the surface they had
ravaged.

Again Thai Odan signalled the con-
trol room, this time giving the order
to land. He sighed. No, none had es-
caped

It was over. His job was done.

The Council would be pleased.
They would probably hold a special
session and decorate him for his ser-
vice. There would be long-winded
speeches by each of the Superiors
in turn — all the trimmings. And when
it was all over, they would forget
him and what he had done in the
work that lay ahead.

But Thai Odan knew he would not
forget. In the long nights of the
years ahead he would always remem-
ber. For he was a soldier, and to-
ward the end this had not been war
but murder on a cosmic scale. With
their vast cities destroyed, their
armies wiped out, all traces of or-
ganization gone, the Earthlings had
been a conquered people. But the
Council had not been satisfied. They
had wanted complete cxterminaiton
of this race whose planet they had
chosen for their new home. And
Thai Oden had had to obey orders.
But it was not the kind of battle
a soldier likes to fight.

Only the Council would be pleased,
and all the others who had hated
and feared the Earthlings as deeply
as the Council had. Thai Odan had
feared the Earthlings, too, but he had
respected them. He knew the basis
of the fear and hate which the Varu
had for Earthlings— a disturbing
sense of physical inferiority. For the
Varu were pygmies in comparison to

OMEGA

- in

the race they had conquered and de-
stroyed* Little more than four feet
tall and slender in proportion, they
had appeared insignificant beside
Earthlings. They had resented this
intensely and bitterly, and had used
every trick of their highly advanced
science to remove a standard of phy-
sique that humbled them.

But this was not the only reason.
The Earthlings were highly intelli-
gent, too. Experience had taught
Thai Odan the unbelievable extent of
their cunning and resourcefulness.
Keen and clever — and very, very
deadly fighters. No — no Varu would
ever have been able to pass the night
hours in comfort while Earthlings
still lived. Thai Odan often won-
dered what the outcome would have
been had the Varu arrived fifty or
a hundred years later. He thought
he knew — and shuddered with the
knowledge.

For it was only after ten years of
terrible, terrible fighting that the
last camouflaged village of Earth-
lings had fallen. Oh, the Varu had
suffered!

But it was all over now. This
planet was the home of the Varu.

There was a slight thump as the
ship landed. Thai Odan shook him-
self slightly and made his way to an
exit hatch. He stepped out to the
ground, wrinkling his nose flaps
against the acrid odor of burning
vegetation. His captains joined him,
saluting as they approached.

"It is done?" Thai Odan asked
quietly.

Sard Mil elected to reply for the
group.

"Not quite yet, Commander. We
have men scouring the district to
mop up any possible survivors. But
none have been found as yet, and it
seems certain that none of the Mon-
sters escaped our surprise air at-

track. Is was too carefully planned."

nPHAL ODAN nodded. His tiny
■*• mouth tightened the faintest bit.
He had never liked to hear the
Earthlings called monsters. No good
soldier thus depreciates an enemy he
respects. And it was almost as if the
Varu admitted their feeling of infe-
riority, by using the epithet to com-
pensate for it. Ten years, he decided,
can do a lot to distort the stand-
ards of a race.

Feeling strangely irritated. Thai
Odan turned back to his ship. He
stopped.

A cry was vibrating on the air.
Winging toward the group about
Thai Odan's vessel came a soldier.
Some kind of excitement had made
him use his degravity floats far above
the minimum safety limit.

The soldier skidded to a stop, wav-
ing his arms to hold his balance. His
eyes were distended with the emotion
that had been in his shout.

"We found one of them, sir — one
of the Monsters!" the soldier gasped,
saluting Thai Odan hurriedly.
"What!"

Thai Odan's eyes narrowed swift-
ly against the undue loudness of his
voice. He felt slightly ashamed. But
at that moment the thought had
rushed into his mind that he could
see what was undoubtedly the last
of the Earthlings before —

"Has it been harmed?" he demand-
ed quickly.

"No, sir. It's a small one, A child."
"Lead us there." Thai Odan
touched a button on the strap that
held his degravity floats, lifted into
the air, and soared with a speed that
quickened the feel of the gentle
breeze on his face. His mind was
working rapidly.

The gleaming hulls of the ships
dropped from sight behind the rise
of the hills. Then the leading figure

112

AMAZING STORIES

ahead began descending. Thai Odan
cut his power slowly to lessen the
impact of his contact with the
ground ; for he was old. He stumbled,
regained his feet and balance, and
looked around.

The soldier was pointing. Thai
Odan's pulse quickened.

A short distance away was a cu-
rious little shelter, built of a half-
ring of stone and covered with
branches and leaves. In the shadows
something moved.

The captains had drawn their hand
blasters and were watching that
shelter with a taut wariness, their
nose flaps opening and closing rapid-
ly. Thai Odan drew no weapon. He
stepped forward eagerly, peered into
the shadows made by the crude roof.

Within, as the soldier had said,
was a Monster, but to Thai Odan, an
Earthling — the last of its kind. It
was small, very young. That was ap-
parent. It made bubbly throat sounds,
and waved arms that v/ere clumsily
thick according to Varu standards.
Bright eyes, filled with laughter and
innocence, met Thai Odan's.

Thu3 it was that the Varu came
upon Omega.

I^NE OF THE captains turned to
^^ the soldier who had made the
discovery.

*'Why didn't you shoot the thing
when you first found it?"

The soldier shifted uncomfortably
beneath the other's stern gaze.

"This — this was so strange, sir. The
child and the shelter so far from

the village There was something

about it I couldn't understand. Since
it was only a child and the only
Monster we had found, I thought
that it would be best to seek the
advice of my superiors before I took
any action of my own."

*1 think I understand," Thai Odan

said softly, marking the face of the
man indelibly in his mind. Here, he
realized, was another who thought as
he did. **What you did was quite
right."

Sard Mil, the agressive, self-elect-
ed spokesman for the group, stepped
forward. His face was hard.

"Our advice is this — kill the Mon-
ster and have done with it!"

The others grov/led assent, their
eyes fixed distastefully upon the
shelter. As though taking his initia-
tive from the others, Sard Mil
stepped toward it, his hand blaster
raising.

"Stop !" Thai Odan's voice was like
the snap of a whip and his eyes were
yellow slits of fury. "You have not
consulted me, Sard Mil. One of these
days you will go too far with your
impetuousness." Then his tones soft-
ened. "This is the last Earthling on
all the planet — the last relic of a
race. This is the final spark of a
people. Are your minds too shallow
to understand and appreciate this?"
He was speaking to all of them.
"The final spark of a race .... It is
too momentous a thing for us to take
it upon ourselves to extinguish it. We
shall take the child before the Coun-
cil."

"We shall be wasting time," Sard
Mil muttered sullenly. "The Coun-
cil will not hesitate to decree the
Monster's death."

"Perhaps," Thai Odan breathed,
though he knew the other was right.
But— the final spark. Thai Odan did
not want the extinguishing of it on
his hands.

"Make a sling," he ordered. "Carry
the child to the ships." He watched
in silence while a crude support was
made of the branches which covered
the tiny shelter. There was grim
amusement in his eyes as he saw that
it took two Varu to lift the little

OMEGA

113

Earthling, and that they did it as
gingerly and as warily as though
they lifted high explosive.

They were ready. Thai Odan
touched the activator of his degra-
vity floats and lifted into the air. His
lips were curved into a small smile
of satisfaction as he soared back to
his ship.

Perhaps — perhaps, now, in the twi-
light years before him, he would
find a little rest.

'T'HE GREAT Council Hall of the
•*" Varu was filled with a strange
noise. The last Earthling was hun-
gry, and was announcing this fact
with a loud voice and lusty lungs.

The Superiors of the Council were
extremely annoyed. Their eyes kept
moving in irritation from Thai Odan
to the small figure surrounded by a
dozen Council guards. Thai Odan
was explaining the discovery and the
presence alive of the last Earthling.
The representatives of the various
people's groups were straining for-
ward in their seats to catch the fleet
commander's concluding words.

Thai Odan was breathless from the
effort required to make himself heard
above the clamor of the last Earth-
ling. But his face was impassive.

"... And so I deemed it wise to
bring the child before the Council
and let them make the decision. As
the last member of its race, I felt
that the decision of its death was
too momentous for me to make

alone."
The spokesman for the Superiors

rose.

"Commander Thai Odan, whatever
you may have said, this is but an-
other evidence of your undue squeam-
ishness with regard to the extermina-
tion of those monsters called Earth-
lings. We well recall that it was
you who advocated the keeping of
the last tribe of Earthlings on a res-

ervation instead of completely exter-
minating them. At the last session of
the Council, complete extermination
of this last tribe to be discovered was
voted upon, and your orders for the
expedition against them were to that
effect. In bringing this Earthling
here, you have acted contrary to the
wishes of the Council."

Thai Odan's lips were closed tight-
ly against the anger that raged with-
in him. He was a soldier — and a sol-
dier fights only until the battle is
won. Extermination is for savages
and cowards.

"However," the spokesman contin-
ued, "we, the Superiors of the
Council, recognize the climactic na-
ture of the decision, and your short-
coming is alleviated somewhat be-
cause of this. In view of your age,
rank, and service, no action will be
taken against you. You arc dis-
missed."

Thai Odan smiled bitterly, bowed,
and left rostrum and the Council
Hall. He was in disgrace, of course.
There would be no speeches in his
honor now, no decorations. But he
would not miss them. The only com-
fort in his twilight years was that he
had been spared the making of a
blow which would have spelled finis
to a race.

Back in the Council Hall, the
spokesman for the Superiors was
asking, "What is the disposition of
the Representatives?"

The spokesman for the various
groups stepped forward. Their voices
rose in unison.
"Death!"

And then there was an amazed si-
lence. For one group had not ren-
dered a decision.

The representatives of the Scien-
tists had risen to their feet — an action
of protest. Their spokesman moved
quickly to the rostrum.

114

AMAZING STORIES

"Superiors and Representatives of
the Counil, we, the representatives of
of the Scientists, do protest commit-
ting this last member of the Earth-
ling race ta death."

The spokesman for the Superiors
was staring.

"On what grounds?"

•yHE SPOKESMAN for the Scien-
"^ tists was an elderly Varu, wise
in the tactics of the Council Hall. He
turned to the representatives of the
various people's groups, spreading his
hands in appeal. For he knew that
it was through these that the deci-
sions of the Superiors were in-
fluenced. His voice was low and pur-
suasive.

"Men of the Varu, you cannot
question the fact that you owe much
to us scientists. Through our re-
searches, through our experiments,
we bring you things to make your
lives comfortable and content. With
our serums and healing rays, we save
your loved ones from dread diseases.
With our inventions and discoveries,
we lessen your toil and increase
you knowledge of Nature, making
you her masters. When our home
planet was confronted with collision
with a wandering star, it was we who
made possible interstellar travel and
saved the race from doom. And it
was we who made possible the
weapons which enabled you to take
this world for your new home.

"Forever on we scientists go, work-
ing tirelessly for the good of the
race. Little do we ever ask in return.

"This Earthling here is the last of
its kind — and all the more valuable
because it is alive. Heretofore, we
have had only dead and maimed
Earthlings for our studies. They
were worthless for certain details
we wished to know. This Earthling,
when it has grown sufficiently, could
supply the precious data we lack.

"Any discoveries we make would
be for the further good of the race.
This is our first thought, our first
desire. Seldom are we scientists re-
warded, and seldom do we ask to be.
All we ask now is that you allow
this Earthling to live so that we mav
study it. It is very young and can
cause no harm. Every precaution on
our part will be taken to see that it
does not become a cause for worry.

"Let us have this last Earthling to
study. Dead, it can never be of any
good. Alive, it will be of inestimable
value.

"I, the spokesman for the Scien-
tists, humbly await your verdict."

He stepped from the rostrum and
joined his fellows, who glanced at
him approvingly. The groups drew
within each other for discussion of
the case. The great council hall
echoed to the tumult of arguing
voices.

On the floor, surrounded by tir-
ing guards, the last Earthling tossed
in restless slumber.

When the sun had begun to edge
from view beyond the western hori-
zon, and its dimming rays made a
rosy glory of the colored windows
of the council hall, the Representa-
tives tendered to their spokesmen
their final decisions. These gathered
into two opposing groups of Fors
and Againsts.

The Representatives of the Scien-
tists smiled in quiet triumph. There
was a majority of Fors.

The last Earthling was theirs for
study.

But, as usual, the Superiors of the
Council had the last word in the
matter. Their spokesman arose,
frowning.

"We, the Superiors of the Council,
do not wholly approve of the ver-
dict which has just been reached. But
since a majority vote has granted

OMEGA

115

life to the last of the Monsters, we
will let it stand as is — with, how-
ever, this amendment:

"The last of the Monsters shall
be in the care of the Scientists until
he has reached manhood. Up to that
time, they are to be responsible for
him and his actions. When he has
reached manhood, he shall be put to
death and his body preserved in the
Museuri of the Conquest for the
view of future generations as the
last specimen of his race.

"The Council is adjourned."

TT WAS TO Jennak Pon, the Co-
■■• ordinator of the Scientists, that
much of the responsibility for the
last Earthling fell; for he was the
head of his group, and as such was
answerable for many of their faults.
But, excited as is any true scientist
before whom has opened up a whole
vista of new and fascinating prob-
lems, he gave little or no thought to
worry. After all, a child is a child,
no matter to what race it belongs.
And nothing that can be foreseen is
to be feared from a child.

Jennak Pon was a brilliant and
capable Varu, else he would never
have attained the leadership of his
group. Through his duties were
seemingly endless, he kept his men
functioning with the smoothness and
regularity of a precision machine. He
knew well how to rekindle hope and
determination from the ashes of dis-
couragement and despair. He was just
past middle age, and his body had a
rounded plumpness which, according
to Varu physical standards, was
called fat.

It was with great enthusiasm that
Jennak Pon plunged into the task
of beginning the series of studies
which were to revolve about the last
Earthling. An entire wing of the
Central Laboratory was set aside and
fitted up for the accomodations and

care of the child. And, through trial
and error experiments, he and his
men learned to feed it. The first
crude successes were refined and at
last a diet was reached which was of
eminent satisfaction in its results.

Gazing down at the last Earthling
one day, Jennak Pon settled the next
of the problems.

"You need a name," he told the
child. "Henceforth, you shall be
called Omega. It is a highly appro-
priate name, for not only is it in
one of your own languages, but it
also means *the last'. And the last
you are — the last of your kind."

Lying upon the soft materials of
his enclosure, Omega gurgled and
waved his limbs. His eyes were
bright, as though with acknov/ledge-
ment.

npHE EARTH revolved about the
^ Sun as it had done in the aeons
of yore. And the years passed, and
Omega grew.

His growing was a swift and ro-
bust thing. At the age of eight he
was as tall as the Varu and as broad
as the plump Jennak Pon himself.
He was a handsome child, with crisp,
chestnut hair and serious, level gray
eyes. He smiled little, and his speech
was slow and grave.

He v/as older than his years, aston-
ishingly mature in thought and ac-
tion. For he had never known play
in the juvenile activity sense of the
word, had never known laughter with
companions of his own age or kind.
His world was a solemn and unevent-
ful one, completely lacking in those
things which make up the normal
world of a child. His was a world
bounded by severe, glistening labo-
ratories and staid Varu scientists.

Occasionally, however, and in con-
nection with his studies, Jennak Pon
would take him on air-ship flights
far from the laboratories and the

116

AMAZING STORIES

city. There, in that outside world
where there were forests and moun-
tains and plains, they would delve
into geological formations and gath-
er mineral, plant, and animal speci-
mens. Omega took a keen delight in
these trips. He loved the vastness
and quiet of the wilderness, revelled
in the sun and wind. Jennak Pon en-
joyed them, too. For they were some-
thing in the nature of vacation trips
for him.

And, sometimes, there would be
visits to the city. Omega had liked
them at first, but now they were
something that he avoided With the
growth in his mentality, the visits to
the city only served the deepen the
sense of his own strangeness. For he
was already aware that he was radi-
cally different from the people with
whom he was daily thrown in con-
tact.

He could not explain this differ-
ence. Even others felt it. On his
visits to the city, rare now, people
would stare at him and point at him
and draw into groups and discuss
him in lowered voices. And the chil-
dren, so queer and so much smaller
than himself, would follow him and
shrill in their thin voices, "The
Monster! The Monster!"

It all hurt, hurt so very badly. Es-
pecially the taunts of the children.
At those times a red mist would
film his vision, and only Jennak
Pon's restraining hand on his arm
prevented him from tearing into the
midst of the tiny demons and smash-
ing them to silence.

He had already guessed that his
differentness had something to do
with his confinement to the labora-
tories. He knew what the laboratories
were and the purposes they served,
and he knew that they were not the
kind of homes that other people had.
And there were the tests which

groups of scientists periodically
made upon him. He had enjoyed the
tests at first, looking upon them as
something in the nature of games. It
had been great fun to hurriedly fit
little blocks together into geometric
figures before a light flashed, and
guess the numbers on cards. There
were many other kinds of tests, and
there were some that he did not like.
But all had now assumed a deep sig-
nificance, and his liking for them had
gone. It was through force of habit
that he went through all the motions.

T ONELINESS was heavy upon
him. He had no companions with
whom he could talk or play. The
Varu children feared him as deeply
as he disliked them. And at times
his desire for friends like himself
became so strong that it reached
actual physical discomfort. Jennak
Pon was a companion of sorts. That
is, when he wasn't so very busy.

Often Omega wondered why he
never saw others like himself. Why
was he so unique ? Were there
others like him in the world? He
asked Jennak Pon once, but the an-
swer he received had been curiously
evasive.

There was evasion everywhere
where he was concerned. He felt as
if something were constantly being
hidden from him. And this served to
increase the depth of his loneliness.

One of the few comforts in his
otherwise barren existence was his
studies. In these he absorbed himself
with an intensity which was a sub-
conscious effort to compensate for
his lack of playmates. His penetra-
tion into many fields of knowledge
had reached an amazing degree; for
there was in his heredity that rare
thing called genius. Able to read and
understand at four, he had, by this
time, the ability to criticize any one
of the abtruse scientific treatises in

OMEGA

117

the laboratory libraries.

His main interest was the physical
sciences, particularly those of chem-
istry, physics, and mathematics.
There was little in Varu history to
interest him— at least that much of
their history which he was allowed
to read. And Varu literary works
simply did not find a responsive
chord within him.

His mind, with its growing brilli-
ance, had turned to the physical sci-
ences. In these there were worlds
within worlds, knowledge without
end. Out of these things could be
built, fascinating things, like the
bright and glittering things which
the Varu scientists built in their
laboratories.

Omega studied intensely and
fiercely, his mind absorbing like a
sponge that great amount of scienti-
fic knowledge which the Varu had
amassed. And something like an in-
stinctive cunning made him conceal
his growing intelligence from the
Varu— -even from the hurried and
kindly Jennak Pon, his only friend.
For a formless something was
growing within him — something that
was keeping insidious pace with his
growth in years and knowledge. In-
definite and vague, as yet, there were
times when it almost bordered on
actual realization. At those times he
would look up sharply from what-
ever he was doing, and stare into
space, as though in answer to a tiny
voice that was calling from some-
where far, far down within him. And
chill winds would prickle his skin,
as though he were remembering. . .

AT SIXTEEN that something
-^ which had been growing within
him through the years finally took
shape. It coalesced, hardened, into a
terrible, all-consuming hate for the
Varu.

Omega never tried to view this

hate objectively and analyze it, for
it had always been there. It was
natural. It had been fused into his
being, grown with him, until it had
become a part of him no more to be
explained than the nose on his face.
Other things came with the hate,
strange, nebulous knowledge. In the
night hours, when he lay sleepless,
gazing into the darkness and think-
ing, thinking, memories would swirl
dimly to his mind. Words in another
tongue, caressing, faces that smiled
down at him —

And something else.
Something that was not a child
memory pulled to the surface by his
powerful mind. Something that was
very real and very urgent.

He had a mission here, a duty to
fulfill. He had a task to do, and
everything else was to be subordinat-
ed to the doing of it.

He had to destroy the Varu— ex-
terminate them as utterly and as
ruthlessly as they had earlier exter-
minated his people.

And in the night hours, when he
lay sleepless, staring into the dark-
ness and thinking, thinking, he would
wonder how he knew that he had
ever had any people other than the
Varu among whom he had lived and
grown. How had he ever known that
the Varu had destroyed these people
of his?

He couldn't explain. The know-
ledge was there, and with it the task
of retaliation.

The desire for information about
his people was a poignant desire in
his heart and mind. He felt that he
could never rest until he knew all
that there was to know about them.
He sought for sources ^of informa-
tion. And, bit by bit, he learned.

Omega had kept his intelligence
carefully hidden through the years.
Never had he said or done anything

118

AMAZING STORIES

which might have given the Varu
cause for worry or fear. They toler-
ated him with a familiar contempt,
and allowed him a quite free run of
the laboratories. For, with nothing
to keep them glowing, thoughts of
danger die with the passing of time.

Thus it was that he had been able
to leave his room night after night,
and, stealing to the libraries, peruse
there by stealth certain records and
documents that he would not have
otherwise been permitted to read.
The records were kept in separate,
locked rooms, but his clever hands,
aided by slender instruments stolen
from the laboratories, gained him en-
trance. It was a slow and dangerous
business, but with his mind to fill
out the gaps, it wasn't long until he
had a complete picture of his people
and what had happened to them.

And his hate was all the more cold
and deadly for the knowledge.

npALL AND strong, his people had
■*• been, and though they had their
faults, brave withal and aspiring.
They had covered all of the inhabit-
able earth, and had been or many dif-
ferent kinds — white men, black men,
yellow men and red. They had all
lived together in a highly integrated
society. Their cities had reared tall-
er and broader even than that at the
Varu were building now, and they
had had vessels which traveled
through the air, on and beneath the
water, and on the land. Their sci-
ence had progressed to the point
where they had been making the first
feeble attempts to reach the planets.
Then the Varu had come. From out
of space the Varu had come, in their
great interstellar arks. Weary and
heart-siclc from long, long years of
searching for an inhabitable planet.
Into the solar system they had come
— and seen the planet which the be-
ings who peopled it called '^rth.

Earth had met the every qualifi-
cation of the Varu. They had want-
ed it for their new home, and the
fact that it was already peopled did
not deter them from taking it, for
they were tired of seeking and cau-
tious investigations had assured them
that the science of this other race
was inferior to their own. Thus, con-
fident and greedy, they had waged
a war of conquest, striking suddenly
from out of the blue sky upon their
unsuspecting victims.

But it had not been as easy as they
expected. The war of conquest had
dragged out for ten, long years, and
the Earthlings had fought to the last.
They had fought with a cunning,
courage, and tenacity which appalled
the Varu. And when the war of con-
quest was technically finished, the
fear of the Varu had become so vast
and intense that they could let no
Earthlings live to insure their peace
of mind. Extermination — with a
mercilessness and vindictiveness born
of their cringing, craven souls and
their flayed egos.

In Omega's mind was the convic-
tion that his people had been the
real victors. They may have lost in
a war of sciences — but they had
emerged triumphant in one of cour-
age.

Now he knew all that he needed
to know. The next step was ven-
geance. That inexplicable command
which was urging him on to wipe
out the Varu had an answering de-
sire in his own mind.

Omega began to plan. He took a
certain scientific principle as his
foundation and upon it built a frame-
work of mathematics. The rest of
the deadly structure had to be com-
pleted through experiments and re-
search. He plunged into the work
feverishly, though with an outward
casualness meant to allay any sus-
picions or curiosity which might

OMEGA

119

arise among the Varu scientists.

WHEN OMEGA reached twenty,
the weapon was almost com-
pleted. Several small parts, adjust-
ments, a final test, and it would be
ready to do the duty for which it
had been built.

Four years filled with deadly dan-
ger lay behind him— a danger that
would never cease until the last Varu
was gone. Always, while he worked,
he had had to keep part of his mind
alert for any changes in attitude of
those around him. It had been a terri-
fic nervous and mental strain. And
besides, there had been disappoint-
ments, heart-breaking failures.

The Varu had wondered, of
course. And they had asked ques-
tions. Omega had explained that the
thing he was building was a device
to control the weather through at-
mospheric vibrations. He had gone
on building his weapon beneath the
noses of the. Varu, laughing at them
just as they laughed at him.

For the Varu did not know the
incredible extent of Omega's intelli-
gence. He had kept it carefully hid-
den behind a semblance of quiet dull-
ness, and had never once betrayed
himself. He had succeeded so well
that he and his device were the butt
of many jokes about the laboratories.
Omega found a grim humor in this.
He had no sympathy in him. Only
enemies surrounded him, and their
petty pointed barbs were dulled
against the armor of his hate. The
few friends he had had were gone
now with the tide of years. The last
to go was the genial and busy Jen-
nak Pon. An accident in one of the
laboratories had taken him.

So Omega worked on, putting the
finishing touches to his weapon and
looking forward to the day that
would see the end of the Varu. He
was so absorbed that he almost for-

got to keep his constant check upon
them. It was one bright afternoon
that he looked up suddenly from his
work to realize that something was
wrong.

The jokes, the teasing jests, had
ceased. The manner of the scientists
toward him had become sober, sol-
emn.

Every sense flaring instantly with
alarm, he ceased work. What had
happened?

Tense, his thoughts kaleidoscop-
ing, he investigated. With hidden
microphones, he eavesdropped upon
the conversation of the scientists. He
learned what was the cause of the
change toward him.

He had reached manhood. Accord-
ing to an old Council decree, he v/as
soon to be put to death and his body
placed in the Museum of the Con-
quest as a specimen.

His blood throbbing with emergen-
cy, Omega began preparations to flee
the laboratories and the city of the
Varu. He carefully disassembled his
weapon and packed it for carrying.
Then he gathered together the tools,
materials, and equipment he would
need. To this he added food and
blankets.

With the fall and deepening of
night, he left his room, carrying the
weapon, and crept to the roof of the
laboratories. The roof served as a
landing field for the small air-ships
of the scientists, and since many of
them stayed late at the laboratories
to continue engrossing experiments,
there always were several ships to
be found there.

Omega selected one, and deposited
his burden within it. Then he re-
turned to gather the rest of his
things.

S HE WAS returning to the roof
with the last of his bundles, the
door of one of the rooms along the

120

AMAZING STORIES

hall opened, and a Varu came out. He
stared at Omega, then at the bundle.
His eyes widened and his mouth
opened to release a shout of alarm.
But, moving with desperate speed,
Omega dropped his parcel and leaped
upon the Varu. His powerful hands
closed about the slender neck. There
was a dull snap, loud in the night
quiet of the laboratories. The Varu
went limp, his intended warning dy-
ing with him.

Omega crouched tensely there in
the hall, listening to find whether
the short and deadly scuffle had
been heard. Finally, assured, that it
hadn't, he picked up his bundle and
continued on to the roof.

He found it difficult to wedge his
six-foot bulk into the ship, built for
a much smaller being as it was. But
he managed to squeeze in and get the
door shut. The controls were simple.
A short study, and he had the ship
in the air and was soaring forever
away from the laboratories and the
city.

He needed a place to work now, as
well as a shelter from the weather.
He remembered a certain mountain
region, where, in Jennak Pon's com-
pany, he had spent many pleasant
hours. There was a cave there in the
mountains, a large and airy cave,
with a clean, sandy floor. The cave
would be his home until the weapon
v/as completed.

The light of the moon, breaking
occasionally through gaps in the
clouds, guided him in his search for
landmarks. But the search was a dif-
ficult one, unfamiliar as he was with
the outside world and the handling
of the ship. He was exhausted when
he finally found the cave.

He had to hide, had to conceal
every trace of himself completely.
There would be no rest until this was
done.

Awkwardly, but with a confidence
that had grown through his handling
of it, he nosed the little Varu air-
ship into the cave, keeping the pow-
er on until a farther wall stopped
his advance. Then he cut the motor,
and the ship settled to the floor with
a thud.

He left the ship and went to the
mouth of the cave. He looked up into
the night sky, breathing deeply. The
clouds had gathered thickly before
the face of the moon, and it was very
dark. A cool breeze stirred with a
kind of restlessness around him, and
faint and eery came the rustle of the
leaves of the trees growing up the
slope. There was no peace in the
night. It was brooding and ominous,
alive with frightened whispers,
filled with a dreadful expectancy.

Omega stared up into the night
sky, watching and listening. And
then that for which he had been wait-
ing came.

A fleet of Varu ships. Their flying
lights were bright motes in the sky.
For an instant their combined drone
was loud in his ears, then their lights
and their noise were gone. They were
traveling very swiftly.

The dead Varu scientist in the hall
had been discovered. The nature of
his death had indicated only one per-
son who could have had the strength
to do that. And that person had been
gone. The Varu were seeking him
now, seeking him with all the feral
hate and determination that they had
earlier sought his people.

/^MEGA GAZED after the ships,
^^ the corners of his lips turned
down in a smile of grim mockery.
Sard Mil would be in command, he
knew. Sard Mil, the Varu who, ac-
cording to the records, had been
cheated of the honor of killing him
by another commander, dead now.
Sard Mil still wanted that honor, and

OMEGA

121

was hot on what he thought was the
trail of the last Earthling.

The Varu, of course, did not know
of his great intelligence and the
deadly purpose which had really
motivated his escape. They thought
merely that he had somehow discov-
ered that he was to be put to death,
and was trying to put as many miles
between the city and himself as he
could. They would never have ex-
pected him to remain as close to the
city as he actually was.

They would keep searching until
they eventually found him. But by
that time the weapon would be com-
pleted.

Omega returned to the ship and
pulled out his bundles. From one of
these he produced a slim length of
metal that he had ground to razor
sharpness. He ran up the slope to the
trees, selected several, and began cut-
ting them down. They were firs and
pines, soft-wooded, and the task of
cutting them down went rapidly.
Omega was careful to space his feel-
ings wide apart, so that no clear area
would be left to draw suspicion from
the hunters in the sky. Later he in-
tended to cut the stumps level with
the ground and cover them with
earth and leaves. But there was no
time for that now.

One by one, he dragged the felled
trees to the cave, shoving them down
into the soft, sandy soil before the
entrance. When he was done, he had
achieved a camouflage effect that
was not unnatural. The trees hiding
the cave mouth would blend in nice-
ly with the others growing up the
slope.

With a branch, he smoothed out
his tracks from the soil around the
cave entrance. Then, assured that
these first precautions against dis-
covery would serve, he spread out
one of the blankets in the interior of

the cave and fell into an exhausted
slumber.

Day merged into day, night into
night, and Omega, working frantical-
ly upon his weapon in his hideout,
lost all sense of the passing of time.
He grew thin and haggard, and a
wild gleam deepened in his eyes.

He lived like a hunted animal there
in the cave. He had planted trees
more thickly about the entrance, and
the interior was filled perpetually
with a solemn gloom, so that it was
only by the glow of a tiny atom lamp
that he could see to work upon the
more delicate and intricate details of
his weapon.

The Varu still sought him. Daily
their ships whined past in the sky,
seeking, seeking, with a growing
frenzy and frustration.

It was only at night that he dared
leave the cave to get water and food.
And to secure the latter he took his
most dangerous risks, for he was
forced to forage far from the cave.
He subsisted upon berries, nuts, and
several varieties of plants which he
had found to be edible by cautious
experimentation. Occasionally he
brought down small animals with a
crude hand blaster that he had fash-
ioned from an extra atom lamp.

Omega worked, the weapon rush-
ing to completion under his flying
hands. And all the while that strange
mental command drove him on and
on like a goad. Rest was only periods
of oblivion into which he dropped
while laboring, the tools still in his
hands.

His hate was an impatience that
would know no rest until the last
Varu was gone. The inexplicable will
which drove him on to the same goal
was a burning urgency. And the
ships in the sky that whined in their
search made his mind scream for
haste, haste.

122

AMAZING STORIES

Omega gritted his teeth and
worked on. Day merged into day,
night into night. And then —

A ND THEN, one evening when
^^ the moon was a silver sphere
edging above the far horizon, the
weapon was finished at last. The
knowledge that his duty was soon
now to be fulfilled was like an ex-
hiliarating drug to Omega. His eyes
flashed in his lined, pale face.

But even now there could be no
rest for his wracked body, for the
ships of the Varu had become more
concentrated in the region of the
cave of late, and it was ominously
certain that they had found some
clue that had put them hot on his
trail. A footprint in mud, a tree
seared accidently by the hand
blaster —

Haste, haste. Power, now, for the
weapon that was to bring death to
the Varu. He removed the small but
enormously powerful atom motor
which ran the propelling mechanism
of the air-ship he had hidden in the
cave. To this he connected his
weapon. Then — he was ready.

But he hesitated. Would it work?
What if there were some flaw in
the hastily-built mechanism of the
weapon? The principle was correct.
And so were the formulas. Of these
latter he was certain, for he had
checked and rechecked them to the
point where they ran like a madden-
ing song through his head. But it
is difficult to express in concrete ma-
terials the sheer, flawless abstract
beauty of mathematics.

Almost he was afraid to continue.
He could not fail in his duty to his
vanished race, that of wiping out
their murderers. But there was no
time to remove the uncertainties
which tortured him. Varu hunters
were whining hungrily in the sky.

coming closer, closer. There was no
time —

Omega's lips tightened to a pale
line. He strode abruptly to the mouth
of the cave and hurled the conceal-
ing trees aside. Moonlight streamed
in with a rush. He picked up the
gleaming, cubical shape of his weap-
on, from which cables trailed to the
atom motor, and strode out into the
moonlight and the breeze.

Cradling the deadly thing, he
looked up into the sky. Bright motes
were whining up there, seeking, seek-
ing, with a hunger that had grown
more intense. He waited until they
saw him standing there in the moon-
light. The motes danced excitedly,
gathered together, then they came
down. They came down like starved
things pouncing, their beams stab-
bing out like eager tongues.

Omega lifted the weapon. His eyes
were glittering and his lips were
twisted in a soundless snarl. He
touched switches, pointed the two
cones in the front at the downward
hurtling vessels. A chill tingling en-
veloped his body.

Like ripples spreading upon the
surface of a pool, the vibrations
leaped out from the cones. The vibra-
tions would shatter the infinitely
complex and delicate crystalline
structures that were the brains of the
Varu.

The vibrations were leaping out
from the cones, and Omega's body
was tingling. In the sky the beams
flickered out, simultaneously, as
though a button had been pressed to
extinguish them. And because there
was nothing to cut their power, the
ships hurtled on. Past Omega and
the cave they went, unguided hulks
of metal. Their crashing back in the
mountains was a thing that shook
the ground and thundered upon the
air.

OMEGA TURNED, then,
pointed the cones in the direction
of the city. He had remained near
the city so that his deadly work
would be all the more thorough.

He kept the cones pointed in the
direction of the city until the weight
of the weapon became unbearable.
The moon peered down, an all-seeing
eye, unmoved. There was only one
city of the Varu on all the Earth.
There hadn't been enough Varu to
make others worth while. So the
work of the weapon was thorough.

At last Omega gave in to the
screaming exhaustion of his body
and sank down to the ground. The
terrific nervous strain and the many,
many sleepless days and nights piled
upon him with a rush. His form
shook, as though moved by some-
thing that was a commingling of a
vast triumph and relief. Then he
slept, bathed in the moon's silver
illumination.

His duty was fulfilled.
U silver speck glinted in the sun-
light. It was high in the sky, travel-
ing slowly. Occasionally it would de-
scend with a sudden swiftness, like
a heart quickened with hope. Then
it would rise again, slowly and weari-
ly, and continue onward.

It was a Varu air-ship that looked
strangely like a sphere cut through
the center by a disc. Omega sat at the
controls.

For days now he had been roaming
the Earth, seeking for something he
knew he would never find. But he still
sought, as though he could not be con-
vinced. Life— intelligent life-^was
gone. There were birds and there were
small animals. There were fishes in
the waters. But on all the Earth there
was no intelligent life, save himself.

He was lonely with a vast loneliness
that pressed upon him like a weight.
In all the smiling green of the land,

OMEGA 123

and the fresh breezes and the sunshine, he

could find no solace. His aloneness
was a bitter acid eating into his
mind. The last intelligent being
upon all the Earth—

The Varu were gone, for the wea-
pon had worked and had been tho-
rough in its working. They had died
by the hand of one whose race they
had murdered. Their city was a great
and glittering coffin upon the sur-
face of the planet that was to have
been the spoil of their conquest.
Their dreams and their glories had
tumbled into dust with the pressing
of a switch.

There were gone even as the
Earthlings had gone before them, but
more mercifully. Death had come
quickly. Its pangs had been too brief
for realization.

Intelligent life was gone now, and
Omega was alone. He was bent and
lined with that knowledge. His hands
upon the controls were listless, as
though death were to welcome a
thing to avoid. But not just yet— * An
answer to a last question that
bothered him — then.

He turned the ship about, sent it
soaring with increased speed. Towers
and spires leaped into view on the
horizon, grew, and became a city. It
was the city of the Varu, a place of
the dead, for bodies lay sprawled
everywhere in the streets and build-
ings. A coffin for a race-
Omega landed his ship upon the
roof of the Council Building. He
made his way quickly to the Cham-
ber of the Archives, keeping his eyes
straight ahead in an attempt to avoid
the scenes of death all about him. In
that room, where the records of the
Council were kept, he did some
searching.

AND FINALLY he found it. He
had wanted to know the location
of the place where he had been dis-

124

AMAZING STORIES

covered by the Varu; the place, also,
where the last of the Earthlings had
died. Now he knew. Something like
peace and calm was coming over him.
He returned to his ship, and soared
up into the bright, bltie sky where the
sun was shining. The city dropped
away unheededly behind him. His
eyes were filled with a quiet glad-
ness.

He was going to join his people.
It was evening when Omega was
certain at last that he had found the
exact location of the village. He
brought down the ship and walked
slowly to the ruins, his bright eyes
glancing about quickly like a man re-
turning home after a long, long time
and wishing to recall old scenes in
his mind.

There was little left of the village
to tell what sort of a place it had
been. The foundation stones were
blackened and cracked, the timbers
charred. Trees and plants grew thick-
ly, and deep gulleys criss-crossed
everywhere, scars left where the
beams of the Varu had seared on that
day so long ago.

Omega nodded slowly. This was all
vast peace and comfort in his eyes.
This was home. He was so tired. He
had come home to rest.

In the sky the sun was setting. Its
dying rays made a rose and gold glory
of the horizon. A cool wind was mov-
ing through the trees, making soft,
rustling sounds that were like voices
he had known. They were calling to
him, gently and soothingly.

Omega nodded slowly. This was all
so very appropriate. He would go out
v/ith the sun, laying himself down to
rest in this place that was home. And
the winds in the trees would make
murac over him for all eternity.

Ke fumbled at his belt, looked
down at the hand blaster that he held
in his palm, the crude little weapon
he had fashiohed from an atom lamp.

In that mystical place where the
dead go, he intended to join his peo-
ple.

His eyes on the setting sun, he
raised the weapon to his head. His
finger tautened upon the release
switch.

And then, of a sudden, there came
a shout. It came with the startling
unexpectedness of a thunderclap out
of a clear sky. Incredulous, wildly
amazed. Omega whirled around.
Turned, to see figures running to-
ward him. Beings just like himself.

The hand blaster fell from his
slackened grip. His hands were numb,
his body was numb. He stared, try-
ing desperately to convince himself
that this was a hallucination, that he
had already pulled the trigger and
was in that other land. But the fig-
ures came on, rapidly, inexorably.

Then they were all about him, and
their hands were upon him, and their
voices were a chaotic thing in his
cars. He reeled and would have fallen
but for the bodies pressed against
him and the arms that enwrapped him.
They knew him, he thought dimly
and terribly bewilderedly. They were
greeting him like a loved one long
gone. They knew him. He didn't un-
derstand how or why, but gladness
was a fountain springing up turbu-
lently within him.
Soft and still, the darkness came.
With his people, Omega was build-
ing. Phoenix-like, a new village' was
arising from the ashes of the old.

^XE STROKES sounded in the
forests, and figures worked ,in
the cleared fields. Here and there
groups returned from forage and
hunting parties, some carrying meat
and others woven baskets filled with
nuts and fruits. There was activity
and there was sunshine, and there
was great happiness.
Omega was learning the language

OMEGA

125

of his people rapidly. Already he
could carry on simple conversations.
But he was impatient to gain complete
mastery of this tongue which he had
barely begun learning whiJ« a child,
for he felt that something momen-
tuous awaited him, something which
would be understandable only when
he knew all the words.

Often he would catch a sly, teasing
brightness in the eyes of the others, as
though they were trying ineffectual-
ly to conceal some future surprise. It
seemed that a secret was being held
that was to be divulged only when he
knew the language thoroughly. He
thought that this secret was linked
to the strange fact that they knew him
and had been expecting him.

Other questions bothered him. Ac-
cording to the records of the Varu,
every last Earthling had been ex-
terminated. Yet here were a large
group of Earthlings, numbering al-
most fifty. How was it that they had
escaped the Varu? And very pale and
thin his people were, as if they had
been long absent from sunlight and
the things that round a body with vi-
brant life. Why was this? He thought
he knew, but was not certain.

Curiousity burned violently within
Omega. He tried often to question
Old Hank, the leader of the tribe, even
to extract some very vague hint. But
the aged and whiskered patriarch
would beat off every attempt with a
smile and a shake of his grey head.

"You aren't ready yet, son," the old
man would say. "Just keep on learn-
ing how to talk like us."

So Omega contented himself with
the thought that the information
would be forthcoming in but a short
time now. He worked hard and stud-
ied hard, and life was very good.

One evening Old Hank gave a sig-
nal that had obviously been agreed
upon long before, since almost in-
stantly there was a stir of excitement

which was rendered lurid by the flar-
ing up of lighted torches. Omega felt
the impact of many eyes upon him,
and his heart leaped. The secret con-
cerning him was to be revealed.

Old Hank approached him, carry-
ing a torch like the others.

"Well, son, I guess you're ready.
Tonight you're going to learn what
everything is all about, but right now
we've got something to show you. Get
a torch and come along."

Omega did as requested, then fell
into step beside the old man, who
formed the lead of a long column of
eerily flickering lights. His thoughts
spun turbulently.

Through the forest they wended
their way and to the hills that rose
beyond. They skirted the hills, en-
tered a tiny valley. Before a bluff
that rose steeply, Old Hank stopped.
He gripped the portion of a large rock
that projected at waist-high level,
pulled. And before Omega's astound-
ed gaze, a door swung in the face of
that bluff, where he would never have
thought a door could be.

"Be careful," Old Hank cautioned.
"The tunnel is rather low for a
few hundred feet. From there on-
well, you'll see for yourself."

They entered. Down, down, they
went, the torches scattering the dark-
ness. Then they halted. Several men
disappeared in the gloom ahead, and
with their going came a bustle of
activity. A whine lifted through the
darkness. Omega was almost blinded
by a brightness that outrivalled the
feeble light of the torches as the
light of the sun does the moon. He
gasped, stared unbelievingly.

For before him, lighted by lamps
in the roof, spread a great cavern.
And in this cavern was something
that was unmistakeably a village.
"Subville," Old Hank said softly.

HUGE fired burned in the vil-
lage meeting place. It was more

12G

AMAZING STORIES

for ceremony than for warmth, since
the night was pleasant. Overhead the
stars glittered in all their magnifi-
cent display. The entire tribe was
gathered about the blaze. They were
hushed expectantly, their eyes upon
Old Hank.

The old man cleared his throat.
"Folks,'' he began in a vibrant
voice, "tonight we have in our
midst one who has almost become a
legend among us — Richard Carron!"
There was a great cheer, and Omega
frowned in perplexity because he did
not quite understand. But realization
flooded over him with a dizzy weak-
ness when Old Hank placed an arm
about his shoulders.

"Yes, son, you are Richard Carron.
You are the saviour of what is left
of the Earthling race. But sit down,
now, and I will tell you your story."
Memory of that evening was ever
to remain with Omega, or Richard
Carron, as he was henceforth to be
known. It was to be a very dear mem-
ory. There was the huge blaze with
its cracklings and gyrations, the
faces that smiled at him, the cool
breeze on his feverish body. There
was Old Hank's deep, slow voice. All
symbols of his new life and happi-
ness.

Old Hank settled himself and began
Richard Carron's story. But it was
more than a story of Richard Carron.
It was a story of the brillance, cun-
ning, and fortitude of a race.

"It was your father, Mark Carron
who conceived the plan, Richard. He
may have been aided by others, in-
cluding myself, but the plan was en-
tirely his own as regards the basic
idea behind it. The others and myself
merely added embellishments. Your
father was a genius, as few men are.
"At the time Mark Carron gave
birth to his scheme — about 1971 — we
were just a collection of little more
than a dozen camouflaged wooden

huts. When the Satans, as we called
them — a corruption of "Saturns" from
the appearance of their flying ships —
destroyed our armies and began de-
stroying our cities, people fled to the
wilds to seek escape. But soon the
Satans began wiping out the little
villages hidden among the hills and
mountains, and everyone realized that
they were bent on a war of exter-
mination. There was nothing that any-
one could do about it. All organized
resistance had gone when our armies,
having valiantly fought a losing bat-
tle for ten terrible years, finally suc-
cumbed. ,

"Your father was certain that the
Earthling race was doomed. But he
would not accept this fatalistically,
nor would he flee from a danger
which he knew would inevitebly over-
take him. He wanted to fight back
some way, wanted this with all the
determination of his courageous
heart. He sought for some method of
fighting back which would be suc-
cessful where the methods of our
soldiers and scientists Lad failed. He
found it. It was very subtle, very
clever, and very ingenious.

"Your father's plan demanded much
precious time in its execution. We
had to build Subville and fit it up
with the things most necessary for
human inhabitation. Fortunately, this
region is honeycombed with caves and
caverns such as you have seen. But
still our task wasn't easy, considering
the natural difficulties which we
faced and the mental strain under
which we labored.

"Subville was ideally suited to our
purpose. It was large and well venti-
lated, and had a temperature which
was constant and quite comfortable.
It had an underground river which
served not only as a source of water,
but also as source of power to run
our crude electrical generators for
lighting the caverns.

OMEGA

127

^rxURING the time that Sub-
*-^ ville was being made ready,
a continual stream of refugees poured
into our above-surface village, until
it became dangerously large. But they
were too valuable to send away, for
v/e needed them not only as helpers
but for the precious articles which
they brought along. They came afoot,
in the last running automobiles, and
in carts. They brought with them
cooking utensils, metals, and tools.
Some even volunteered to return to
the ravaged cities and scavenge for
the vital things v/e needed. Many of
these were killed in the brave effort,
but a goodly number managed to get
back.

"We were a rather motely group.
Among us were farmers, scientists,
technicians, factory laborers, clerks,
lawyers, doctors, and many others too
numerous to mention or too difficult
to classify. Your father himself was a
psychologist from a great university,
a famous man in his line, and I was an
electrical engineer. But in spite of our
great diversity of kind, wc worked
together with a co-ordination as
beautiful as that of ants or bees.

*Trantically and desperately, we
labored, always expecting each day to
be our last. And finally Subville was
ready. By this time there were a
great many of us living in it. As each
family or person entered, he took with
him every bit of the material of his
former dwelling. In this way we kept
our above-surface village from be-
coming too large, and at the same
time procured a vast supply of wood.
'This also served a purpose vital to
the plan, that of making the village
appear small and inhabited by very
few people. Then we stocked Subville
with every bit of food available. We
even had seeds to grow under special
sunlamps.

"Yeur father^s plan now needed one
last step before it was completed. Its

eventual success only Fate could de-
termine. This is where you enter. You
were about two years old by this
time."

Old Hank paused to place a gnarled
hand upon the arm of the man who
had been know as Omega. His tone
grew more intense.

"You, Richard Carron, are actually
the center about v/hich the entire plan
revolved. Subville, everything, were
only minor satellites.

*'Mark Carron was a psychologist, a
wizard at a science that had pro-
gressed tremendously since its con-
ception during the earlier half of the
century. He knew the workings of
the mind as minutely as a watchmak-
er does a clock. Thus, with his gifts
and ability, he planted in your child
mind the seeds of a terrible hatred
for the Satans, an irresistible urge to
exterminate them as they had en-
deavored to exterminate us. With
this he sowed a super-cunning. All
these were timed to germinate and
grow when you had reached an age
and degree of intelligence which
would enable you to carry them out
effectively and thoroughly.

"Then a tiny shelter was erected a
distance from the village, and you
were placed within it. The little that
the plan demanded remain of the vil-
lage was to serve as bait to draw the
Satans. To this end, much of the cam-
ouflaging material was removed, in
order to make it conspicious from the
sky. Lastly, a number of people were
required to sacrifice their lives by
remaining with the village so that the
set-up would seem real. Many— many
volunteered.

"The rest retired to Subville, there
to live an existence whose length
would be determined only by the suc-
cess of the plan. You were to be left
for the Satans to find, far and safe
from the awful holocaust that would
come when they descended upon the

128

AMAZING STORIES

village. That was tremendously im-
portant. Also it was hoped that this
would excite their curiousity and
compassion — if any.

?fpOR MARK Carron knew that
'■' the only method of fighting
the Satans was to do it with their own
science and weapons. And this could
only be done by one who had ac-
cess to them. It was his plan that the
Satans should find you in such cir-
cumstances that they would permit
you to live. He was a scientist; he
knew scientists, knew that they were
the same the Universe over — eternal-
ly eager for knowledge. He knew,
if the Satans did not have other sub-
jects and if they allowed you to live,
that they would want to keep you
for study. And once this step was
taken, once you reached the proper
age, he knew that their doom would
be sealed. For at the same time they
were studying you, you would be
studying them, learning their science,
gaining the background and intelli-
gence which would enable you to
build a weapon to wipe them out.

"And>" the old man's voice rose,
"Fate has destined that you succeed.

"There is little more to be told. Life
in Subville was hard. It wasn't long
until our food gave out; and there
were sicknesses. More than half our
number died. But we few who re-
mained managed to become adapted to
our new environment and exist. At
night we were able to leave the cave
to hunt for food, since the Satans no
longer hunted us, believing all
Earthlings gone.

"There was little if any news, and
our main topic of conversation was
The Plan. We never ceased speculat-
ing over its success, and our worries,
fears, and hopes were more painful
than our sicknesses. You, Richard
Carron, became something of a leg-

end among us — a legend of hope.

"After fifteen years had passed, we
sent scouts nightly to the ruins of
the above-surface village to watch for
you; for your father had planted,
among the others, the command to re-
turn to the site of the village after
your duty had been done. We had
been growing discouraged until you
finally came.

"We are few now — but with the
menace of the Satans gone, we can
make a new beginning. We will build
again, thanks to you, Richard Carron.
We thank you deeply and fervently.
You will always have our love and
respect.

"In conclusion, you are now our
leader. We are your people to com-
mand, for I am old and we recognize
the fact that you have a greater
knowledge than any of us. Lead us
a little up that long, hard road back
to glory, Richard Carron."

Old Hank's voice died away. And
the fire had died, too. The people
were still. Their eyes, filled with
tears yet very bright, were fixed upon
the man who was once Omega but
now was Richard Carron, their leader.

DICHARD Carron was staring into
•■'^ the embers of the fire. His mind
was reeling from the impact of all
he had heard. He was filled with a
vast wonder and admiration at it all,
a humble respect for the great mind
that had conceived and engineered
the brilliant and daring scheme.

This last troubled him. He turned
to Old Hank.

"My father— what became of
him?"

The oldster looked away, into the
darkness.

"He remained with the village,
Richard Carron," came the low and
gentle reply. "You see, your mother
died when you were born, and he was

OMEGA

129

never quite the same after that. He
loved her deeply. Besides, since his
plan called for a sacrifice of lives,
he wanted to be among thoSje who died,
for his mind would never have been
easy otherwise. And he felt that he
was no longer needed. His part was
done ; the rest was up to you and that
mystery men call Fate. He died glad-
ly, Richard Carron, and there should
be no sorrow or regrets. The future
is bright before us. Will you lead
U8 there?"

Richard Carron rose. A vast
warmth and a vast joy were surging
up within him.

"I will lead you— my people," he
•aid simply. And with their voices
ringing tumultuously in his ears, he
turned and stumbled off into the
darkness. He wanted to be alone a
little while, to bring some order to
the chaos of his thoughts and emo-
tions.

The breeze moved like a caress
through the warmth of the night. The
rustlings of the leaves was a paean.
The stars were like glints from hap-

py eyes. The whole night was flooded
with laughter and joy.

Richard Carron looked back at the
village— his village now filled with
his people. They woiild live in the
sunlight again, beneath the blue sky,
in the fresh winds. They would be-
come brown and they would become
strong. They would plant and they
would reap. They would be fruitful
and they would multiply. And more,
they would build again.

And he would be there to lead them.
His would be there to aid them
over the rough places in the journey
that lay ahead. He would try to take
them as far up that long, hard road
back to glory as his years of life
permitted.

He looked at the village, his back
straightening and his eyes shining.
Someone had thrown more wood on
the fire, and though the great blaze
had dwindled to ashes, there was still
a spark left to ignite the added fuel,
and now it flared up brightly.
It was an omen of the future.
THE END

CRASS m\&

^ By Jon Barry *

MANY YEARS ago our western pl^ns
were excellent pasture for cattle. But
today more and more of the land has be-
come barren. Many attempts have been
mTde to re'eed the country but most have
failed Recently a new method has had con-
sldSbk ^^^^^^^^^^^^ this mf hod grass

seeds are enclosed m small pellets of clay,
and dropped to the ground from planes
The clay makes the seeds heavy so that
they are not blown away or eaten by birds.
Thev iust lay there till a good rain soaks
the cliy away and they take root Ma Y
acres in Wyoming, Arizona, and Idaho have
already been sown with these little pellets.
If this sy^^tem becomes entirely successful,
it will mean the restoration of vast areas
of grasslands and a great increase m the

production of beef.

♦ * *

LlGHTNlNfi MACm

^ By A. Morris ^''

DURING the past few months a lar^e
electric company has hired a young
scientist to watch for lightning to strike
the Empire State Building in New York
City He has a great deal of equipment on
hand including cameras and recording mrv-
chines. His findings will help the men in
the laboratories discover ways of protecting
electrical machines from being damaged by
electricity. The radio antenna on top ot
the building is often struck during an elec-
trical storm. One summer it was strur.:
twelve times in one day. But it is nov: f
damaged by these bolts because the build-
ing's steel structure acts like a lightnirv^-
rod and gives the lightning an easy pata
to the ground. Just by being the tallest
building and attracting the lightning and
grounding it, the Empire State Building
actually protects other buildings near by.

GEHENNA, INCORPORATED

By Berkeley Livingstoit

Digging a liole to tlie lava core of the
eartli would prodaee a lot of power — a
lot more than bargained for, pei-haps!

THE SHUTTLE car was rolling Meredith grinned, leaned forward

back to operations headquarters, and patted the other^s shoulder af-

Vic Stewart sat at the controls, fectionately. "Not Vic Stewart" he

lines of weariness bitinP'dpf'nlx/ al/^«o. o^;^ ^a t_. , . - - ' . .

lines of weariness biting deeply along
the strong jaws and indenting the
forehead with a perpetual frown.

''How much longer and further we
got to go, Meredith?" he asked.

"Hard to say," Bill Meredith re-
plied. "Maybe six months, maybe a
year, maybe tomorrow. And the same
could be said as to the distance
Why?"

Vic wiped the sweat from his eyes.
The car was practically sound and
airproof and hot as blazes. His body
was tensed from strain. Meredith, on
the other hand, was lax and complete-

said. "Anyone else, but not old VicJ
Vic growled a laugh out of his
throat. "Bill. Tell me what it's like
up above. Haven't seen the sun or
smelled fresh air in fourteen months.
And even a vicarious pleasure would
be enough for me today."

"Well," said the other. "I can't
really say. My nose hasn't had much
of a chance to lift from the grind-
stone of Grant and Company."

A far-away look came to life in
Vic Stewart's eyes, and the frown
deepened perceptibly on his fore-
head. It was evident the mention of

Ur .. C — r ^^"^F^cic- iicdu. It was evident the mention of

ly at ease as he sat forward alongside Grant and Company had set off a
Vic and watched the bare ror> «li^. tr^in ^f »«^i..«.!^. i..." 1 ." ^

Vic and watched the bare rock slide
backward as the car sped forward.
His lean tanned face had a look of
eagerness and youth about it that his
companion's no longer had, yet both
were about the same age.

"Well," Vic said. "IVe been down
here in this tunnel for three months
now. Gettin' kinda tired, if you know
what I mean?"

"Sure," Meredith replied. "I under-
stand. Let's see... You've been in
operations for a little better than a
year. Right?"

"Yep! Vic Stewart, the bear for
punishment. So it's been a year, eh?
Seems like ten years. No wonder they
give six month contracts. A guy could
go crazy working the tunnel. Say!
Maybe I've turned psycho, too?"

train of unpleasant thoughts. Sudden-
ly he turned and faced Meredith,

"That, bosom buddy, seems to be
the universal complaint. Grant and
Company—" Vic stopped looked at
the other from under lowered lids and
turned again to the controls.

"Go on, Vic," Meredith said. His
face was as placid as the waters of a
mill pond.

"—Why not?" Vic said reflective-
ly, speaking without looking at his
friend, as if the words had to come
forth. "You're new in Gehenna, Bill.
You're gonna hear a lot which will
surprise you. Knock you off your
pins, in fact. Grant and Company are
the unpardonable sin down here."

"So-o— " Meredith's voice was flat,
unreflective of thought "Look, Vic.

130

Meredith gestured at the screen. "Now try telling me there's no HelU"
131

132

AMAZING STORIES

You're batching it. Why don't you
come over tonight.. for dinner.
YouVe never met my wife and family.
And I can promise a night's fun.
Sally's sister is staying with us. And
you'll like her. What say?"

"You mean a home-cooked meal?"
Vic's voice seemed tj be liquid, as if
he were drooling at the thought.
"Just tell me where and what time."

"One eighty six Avenue B," Mere-
d i t h said. "Cocktails at seven-
thirty "

"Make mine Manhattan!" Vic said.
"I'll be there."

A VENUE B ended on a cul-de-sac
*^ and one eighty six proved to be
the last duplex on the street. Vic
Stewart, dressed in sportswear which
was a year and a half behind the fash-
ions, yet looking in his lean, hungry
way as if they were in the height of
fashion, paused for an instant before
the sidedoor entrance. Then his fin-
ger was jabbing the button.

He wanted to say something, any-
thing, to the vision of loveliness
which confronted him at the opening
of the door, but his tongue simply
refused to function, though his mind
was working at the words furiously.
Beautiful sweet, wondrous, marvel-
ous, stunning.... There were other
words also, but those best described
Norma Hale. She was all that and
more, as she stood in the tiny vesti-
bule, greeting Vic.

As if understanding his wordless
pose, she smiled gently and moved
aside, saying as she did:

"So you're the fabulous Vic Stew-
art? Why, all Bill has done since
our arrival, has been talk of you and
what you've accomplished. But come
in, Vic... They're waiting on the
terrace — ^with Manhattans."

Vic grinned at mention of the cock-
tails and of a sudden the lines of
worry and concentration disappeared

from his face and he looked like a
hungry boy, hungry for love, affec-
tion and fun. Norma felt the sudden
lump in her throat and wondered at
it. She felt the blood leave her face
and bit her lip with small perfect
teeth at the realization of her feel-
ings. But other than that there was no
other sign of her mental disturbance.

Vic stepped in and she preceded
him to the terrace, which was reached
through the living room and beyond
a pair of French doors. Bill Meredith,
his wife, Sally and their son Hayes,
were waiting for them.

The cocktails were just right, the
meal which followed, was superb, and
the talk had just the right tone. Vic
learned that Norpcia was twenty two
years old, a public relations executive
in a large firm, possessed a M. S. de-
gree from Columbia, and loved tennis,
Vic's favorite sport.

Hayes, an intelligent lad of ten,
said good-night, kissed his mother
and father and aunt, and shook hands
with a grave air and left for his room.
Then the talk became less general
and more specific and direct.

The three of them seemed to
pounce on Vic, so did the talk con-
verge in his directions. There were
questions of operation, of the health
of the workers, of how far the work
had gone. Vic answered most of them
with smiling agreeability. Then he
noticed a strange fact. It was as if the
talk and questioning had a direct way,
as if they were on the quest of a par-
ticular answer.

" Now look, gang!" he said after

a while. "How about telling me of the
upstairs world? Y'know, I haven't
heard anything of what goes on up
there in a long time."

TT WAS Norma who replied: "It
"■" hasn't changed much, Vic. Only
for some people. I might as well tell
you. I'm also working for Grant and

GEHENNA. INCC«POAATED

133

Company, though indirectly.

"And I*m here for one reason. To
break down the bad impression which
is current above about what's going
on down here. This has proved to be
a very expensive proposition, and not
alone in money expended. For every
foot of tunnel a life is lost. The im-
pression above is that Grant and Com-
pany doesn't give a damn what it
costs, in any direction."

**Maybe they're right in their im-
pression," Vic said.

"Now we're getting somewhere,"
Bill said, leaning forward in his chair
and peering intently into his friend's
face.

"Let's not fence !" Vic said abrupt-
ly. "You've been driving for some-
thing. So I'll talk, first, and after,
listen. I'll spill the proverbial beans,
but only on the promise that you'll
all do the same."

"Done !" said Norma.

"Okay then. I won't go into the
background of this project. It's too
well-known for that. But the pitch is
this. The discovery was made a few
years back that the center of the
Earth is in a liquid state. And that
tests showed we could obtain from
this molten mass enough energy to
forget any other we have ever known.
So the problem was then resolved to
the matter of getting it out.

"Workers had. to be obtained, sci-
ence had to invent the tools by which
we could get to the center of the
Earth, homes had to be provided for

the workers But eventually all

that was done, the city of Gehenna
was built and the vast scheme of drill-
ing started.

"Two companies began operations
in a race to see which could get to the
center first. The International Court
of Laws gave a decision which 'gave
the entire rights of possession and
use to that outfit which was first on
the scene. So Europeans Inc. and

Grant and Company began the race,
each from almost opposite ends. We
have dug an approximate eight hun-
dred miles. What and how far they've
gone is a mystery. And without say-
ing, it's been a terrific undertaking.
"So the city of Gehenna was built,
with eternal artificial light and air,
a city enclosed in a shell of plastic
material which can and does with-
stand the most terrific pressure. Men
work within the drill itself, vehicles
are made so that there can be no such
thing as getting the 'bends'. Every-
thing but the human factor has been
taken into consideration. And that
factor, as far as I'm concerned the
most important, was thrown into the
discard. Men, as human beings, simply
do not exist. The machine is what
counts here. And the time has come
when the men are going to revolt. ."

"So it's true!" Norma broke in.
"What the rumors have spoken of
have a basis in fact. They said that
agitators have been at work, have
created discord and discontent down
here. That men are laying down on
the job—"

"Nor can I blame them !" came the
startling words from Vic Stewart.

'T'HE TWO women and the man
■*• looked at each other. They acted
as if they couldn't believe their ears.
Yet Vic got an idea they weren't dis-
pleased about what they heard. The
opposite, rather.

"You heard me all right," Vic went
on. "Listen. In the beginning we got
sandhogs, tunnel men. They were
used to putting in a eight hour day
that is really rough. But down here
conditions are different. Three hours
is the limit a man can work safely.
Heat of a hundred and fifty degrees;
constant, unrelenting heat, insuffi-
cient safety devices, constant danger
at their fingertips. Man ! I know. I'm
Chief Supervisor, with ten foremen

134

AMAZING STORIES

under me, and two thousand men un-
der them. I know what's going on."

**And what's going on?" Meredith
asked.

"Various things, but only one I
don't like. Don't is a mild word! I
should have said, fear. Sabotage."

This time there was a positively tri-
umphant note in Norma's voice:

**3o that's it."

"Yes, that's it. But perhaps you
don't realize the consequences of such
a thing. Bill does, I'm sure. I'll make
it plain and put it in simple language.

"We use gigantic drills and after,
borers. The borers are complex ma-
chines weighing several hundred tons,
and are capable of making a hole ten
feet in diameter. Now if the sabotage
takes place in the borers and some-
thing goes v/rong the whole planet
might go up in one grand burst of
fireworks. There is untold pressure on
tap and if it's let loose neither I nor
anyone else can tell what might hap-
pen. This I can say. First the bubble
in which this city nestles will be en-
veloped by gas which in turn will be
ignited by some spark. Do I have to
say more?"

"And the resultant explosion will
seek an exit, that exit provided by the
shaft from the surface, an avenue nine
miles wide," Meredith said, "But they
can't be that crazy!"

"The trouble with something like
sabotage," Vic said, "is that the sa-
boteur operates from a different set
of principles than we do and con-
sequently acts without thought as to
the future, other than his act will
bring him glory. In this case it will be
a glory not found on Earth."

"How far have they gone, Vic?"
Norma asked.

"Drill heads broken, tools missing,
one borer wrecked beyond repair.
And worse, lately, one of the guards
found a small leak in the bubble
around Gehenna. It was a matto^. of

good luck that he found it when he
did. An emergency crew repaired it
quickly. Another day and the pres-
sure would have collapsed the entire
city."

"You think it was broken intention-
ally?" Meredith asked.

Vic shrugged his shoulders. "Im-
possible to say," he said. "I wouldn't
hazard a guess."

Norma sighed deeply, smiled in
sudden warmth and said :

"Let's get something on the audio-
television. They say there's a new
wrestler in New York that's a better
actor than Hale Belstrom, the nev/est
interpreter of Shakespeare."

Vic v/hose mood of light-hearted
ease had vanished with the serious-
ness of their talk, felt a stir of gra-
titude at the change in subject. Smart
girl, he thought. I don't quite dig
you, but someday, and soon, I will.
He arose and followed the others into
the music room and for the balance
of the time he was there enjoyed him-
self. Norma saw him to the door.

"By the way, Vic," she said, as he
held her small hand in farewell, "I'm
riding down with you and Bill tomor-
row. Part of my job. The public must
be informed of what goes on...."

"Swell! For once it will be a real
pleasure going to work," he said.

She grinned impishly at the sudden
light of delight in his eyes. She
looked dov/n at her hand, imprisoned
in his, and he flushed momentarily,
then grinned in return.

"It was so small and cool," he said,
"and so nice to hold I hated to let go.
I wonder if your — if your.,.."

"Yes-s — " she urged him.

"Not tonight!" he spoke in abrupt
decision. "Another time."

She let it go at that. "Then I'll se^
you tomorrow," she said.

He nodded and waved good-bye.

''M

Y GOODNESS!" Norma ex-
claimed as she made herself

GEHENNA. INCORPORATED

135

as comfortable as possible in the
rather narrow car. "All these process-
es we went through "

"Have to, Norma," Bill said. "The
pressure down here is much greater
than even in Gehenna. And the tem-
perature is not regulated. The men
work stripped almost completely.
Right now you don't feel a thing; the
car is air-conditioned. But once we
get on the field. . .Well. You might
be sorry you took the trip."

"Nothing will make me feel sorry,"
she promised.

Vic gave her a lop-sided grin and
thought she sounded rather cocky. He
knew that cockiness would disappear
very quickly once she stepped into
the furnace of the field. He caught
a green light looked down at his au-
tomatic throttle and saw he was right
on the nose. Another two minutes and
the shaft they were working would be
reached. He called to Bill that it
would be soon and Bill undid the
strap from about Normals waist.

"How fast does this thing go?" she
asked.

"Four hundred miles an hour, we
did it in forty minutes, so you can
figure the distance we went."

She whistled softly. H'm! They
were a long, long way down.

Then the immense spread of the
tunnel field hove into view and a
few seconds later they slid into one
of the berths at the port.

The instant she stepped from the
car she knew what Vic and Bill meant
when they mentioned the intense heat.
Though she wore only the briefest of
halters and trunks, they felt as if they
were made of metal. The heat was like
some impossible pressure beating at
her from all sides. For the first time
in her nature life she thought she
was sweating, and not perspiring.

"Warm for May, isn't it?"* Vic
asked^ as he led the way to his office.

"And for July too/' she said. "I

hope your office is a little cooler."

"Just a bit," he replied. "But don't
get your hopes up. "We're stopping
only for my work sheet. Then we'll
go down to where tne boss drill's at
work and you can get your work done
as quickly as possible."

"Swell," she said. "I know I can't
take too much of this."

She flanked Vic on his right with
Bill Meredith on his left, as they
strolled to the shaft, after Vic got his
work sheet. Her eyes took in the im^
mensity of the field in startled sur-
prise. She had an idea it would be
immense but she simply had no ima-
gination for its actual size.

The roof arched fifty feet above
them, with tremendous sheets of the
new metal Soladium hammered flat
into the virgin rock. Great columns of
the metal acted as supports every five
feet. The huge vault extended for
miles before them. Vic took a small
diimp car and motioned for the others
to get in.

"It's a couple of miles to the shaft,"
he said. "By the way. Bill," he turned
to Meredith. "You haven't been down
either. It'll be an experience for you,
too."

'T^HEY WERE at the drilling shaft
•*■ a few moments later. It reminded
Norma of some of the oil rigs she
had seen as a youngster when her
family took a trip to Oklahoma. The
difference lay in the fact that in this
rig there were four drills at work.
And in the center of a hole fifty feet
across lay the elevator shaft.

The operator greeted Vic with
hoarse familiarity as the three
stepped within the cage. Then turn-
ing to his starter he flicked the
switch on and the descent began. It
was at the most terrific elevator speed
Norma had ever experienced. And a
short time later they were at the
5cen?e df the drilling.

136

AMAZING STORIES

It was a weird scene of seeming
confusion. Hundreds of men were at
work on the floor. There was the con-
tinuous grunt of the drill being
pounded into the earth, the clatter
and chatter of hundreds of air ham-
mers at work, a vast sound of rum-
bling, as if the very earth were pro-
testing its violation. And at the drill
itself a dozen men stood about, all
intent on instruments before them. It
was to this group Vic led Norma and
Bill.

"Anything new, Sorenson?'* Vic
asked, after he had introduced his
friends.

Sorenson, a giant of a man, whose
stripped body gleamed with sweat,
shook his head fiercely. "Blasted
counter we got doesn't register! Had
to use two of the old ones. Radio-act-
ivation at the nine mile level. Lots
of it."

Vic frowned. That wasn't too good.
It meant a lot of v/ork by-passing it
and a delay which might take a pe-
riod of time over which they had no
control.

"Run into any fluid stuff again?"
Vic asked.

"Drill 4 did. Had to shore up and
start all over again."

"That's nice!" Vic said. His voice
held a touch of irony. "I*d give a
cheer if I didn't know better. What
was wrong with that counter? It's
the newest gimmick we got."

"Someone fooled with it before it
got here. It just doesn't register."

"Nice. Very nice. We might run
into a big pocket of the charged stuff
at any minute and never know we hit
it until it's too late. Anv other trouble
I should know about?"

Sorenson turned his head to right
and left, saw they were quite alone,
and whispered:

"Yeah! Molik and his crew arc at
it again."

Vic's mouth tightened to a thin,

bloodless line. The fly in the oint-
ment. Boris Molik. Molik was a ter-
rific machine man, but also a big
trouble-maker. Nothing ever suited
him. And he was full of complaints
as a child with a bellyache.

"What now?"

**Three of his boys got in the way
of a hot load. Two of them died and
we had to surface the other."

"Damn! Whose fault was it?" Vic
was tense. A hot load was a wall dis-
charge of gaseous steam* Every now
and then there was one, and since it
was impossible to predict the occur-
ence, men were getting hurt from it.

"I'd say Molik's. He was lead man
in the outfit. And the stuff came from
in front, and shortly after be broke
ground. He went back for some water
a second or two before the stuff
broke through the wall," Sorenson
said.

"That's the third time," Vic spoke
reflectively. "And he's always going
back for water just before the break.
Have one of the boys bring the jerk
here."

^fDORIS," Vic began when the
■^ black-browed, stocky figure
stepped before the small group at the
drill head, "this is Miss Norma Hale
and Bill Meredith."

He shook his head vigorously at
the introduction, his jet eyes seek-
ing something in each face,

"Miss Hale is from the front office
and is down here for one reason. To
let the people above know what's go-
ing on. Now you've been a trouble
maker for months. So suppose you
shoot your mouth off now and get it
over with."

Molik's head jerked toward the
grim-faced Stewart. His heavy slop-
ing shoulders, muscled as a wrestler's,
heaved slightly, and a smile broke on
hii lips, showing stained, broken
teeth. He spoke with a very small

GEHENNA. INCORPORATED

137

accent, but in excellent English:

*'So. A member of the press, eh?
Good ! I have waited a long moment
for this. So you want Boris Molik to
shoot his mouth off, make com-
plaints, tell what his eyes have seen
and his heart felt. So-o? Very well.
Miss Hale.

**I say that all this is madness!
Three thousand men have died. And
for what ?*'

*'Never mind that!" Vic said sharp-
ly. "We don't want your philosophy.
What's bothering you?"

Molik glowered darkly at Vic. His
lower lip came up slightly over his
upper in an odd pout.

"Why don't you mind your own
business, Stewart?" he asked. **I never
liked you and I like you less, now. If
you're going to run this interview in
your way I'll go back to work right
now !"

"Leave him tell his side of the
story," Norma stepped in verbally be-
tween the two.

"He will, all right!" Vic said grim-
ly, "No fear of that. I just don't like
to hear his guff."

"And I don't like to listen to you
either !" Molik suddenly shouted.

Molik's bellow focused the atten-
tion of the other workers on the small
group. Curious eyes watched furtive-
ly to see what would happen.

Vic bit his lip, smiled gently, and
with a sudden swift movement
grabbed Molik by the throat and
brought him forward until they stood
chest to chest.

"Anytime you want to do anything
about it just start," he said.

Molik's answer was a sudden lift-
ing of his knee to Vic's groin. Vic
doubled up in pain, and Molik
chopped with a thick balled-up first
to the side of Vic's jaw, sending the
lighter man staggering.

"Hey!" Bill Meredith stepped in
and shoved at Molik. "That was a

dirty trick. . ."

He reeled back as Molik came for-
ward and plowed his fist into his
jaw. Norma fell back a few feet, her
hand raised to her mouth her eyes
mirroring fear. But the few seconds
respite Vic got from Bill's inter-
ference was enough for him. Like a
battering ram he moved in, head low,
fists pumping hard close to his sides,
his body pivoting at the hips with
each swing. And Molik retreated be-
fore the relentless attack.

Then Vic shifted his attack. The
pummeling fists came higher, to the
face and eyes, sending Molik's head
back and to the side with each blow.
Vic, a better boxer, was but measur-
ing the other for the pay-off punch.

But Vic did not take into account
Molik's strength and recuperative
powers. Molik took terrific punish-
ment. Then suddenly the stocky man
lowered his head and charged for-
ward. Vic sidestepped, and hit down-
ward in a hook. And Molik turned in-
ward with the blow, grabbing Vic's
fist and twisting his hand at the same
time. Vic was forced to move in the
same direction Molik was moving, or
have his wrist broken. It was an old
wrestling trick.

A S VIC came in Molik shifted sud-
^^ denly and threw Vic over his
right hip. But his grasp was still
strong on Vic's wrist. There was a
wild look of triumph in Molik's eyes
as he stooped over the man on the
ground. Now his left hand joined his
right and as Vic lay prone, he saw
what the other intended, to break his
hand at the elbow.

With the speed of a striking snake
Vic shot both feet upward and Molik
flew backward, blood spurting from a
broken nose and cut mouth, where
Vic's heels had caught him.

On the instant Vic came erect and
moved warily toward the fallen man.

138

AMAZING STORIES

But only for a second. Then he be-
came aware of the circle of workers.

"All right!*' he stiffened and faced
about to them. "Party's over. Back to
work."

But something was amiss. Instead
of complying with his order they
stood their ground. And on each face
he read the same glowering message
of hate. They were waiting for some-
thing, a spark perhaps, Vic thought.
Molik provided that spark.

"Get them!" he shouted through
the funnel of his fingers trying to
stop the crimson tide of blood. "Don't
let them get away.''

"Sorenson! Haley!" Vic suddenly
xihouted. "This way."

But it was too late. They were fifty
to one and they simply overpowered
them by sheer numbers. Vic went
down under the bodies ot six of the
sweaty muckers of Molik's crew. The
last conscious thing he saw, some-
thing which made him go berserk
with rage, was the sight of three of
the half-nude figures fall on Norma
and bear her to the ground.

Then the world seemed to hit Vic
on the temple and he fell into a black
curtain of velvet softness

^^\TIC. . . VIC!'* a voice was urging
^ him out of the black pit.

He tried to rise but the effort was
too much for him. He fell back and
shooting stars swam before his vision
as he banged his head on the bare
rock of the floor. But it brought him
to full consciousness at least.

Bill and Norma were kneeling at
his side. A half dozen other figures
stood about, among them the bloody
one of the giant Sorenson. Vic lifted
an arm and Bill grabbed it and helped
him come to his feet.

"What happened?" Vic asked.

"Molik's taken over," Bill said.

"What happened to Sorenson's
crew?"

"Five of them were killed and the
rest are there."

"Norma! You're all right?" Vic
asked, stepping to her side and taking
her arm.

She smiled up at his concern and
shook her head. "All right, Vic," she
said. "It was you I was worried about.
You seemed to have gone crazy and I
was afraid they'd hurt you."

"Just a few lumps. I've had 'em be-
fore. It was you had me worried. The
way they grabbed you. I could have
killed them."

For an instant there was an inde-
finable something in her eyes. Then it
was gone, and Vic could only wonder
at what he had seen. They turned at
the sound of footsteps. It was Soren-
son and his crew, or what was left of
them.

"Looks like Molik lost his head, "
Sorenson said. He was still bleeding
from a cut over the nose, and one of
his eyes was closed.

"Yeah," Vic agreed. "Unless he's
got others to go along. But all I can
see is trouble for that fathead. He
can't think he's going to come out on
top—"

"Maybe," Sorenson surprised Vic.
"They've got energy guns. At least
four of them. And Molik is operating
on a preconceived plan."

"Someone's going to worry about
the girl," Vic said. "Many's the time
we stayed on down here for days. So
it's entirely possible they won't think
about us above. But the girl "

"That's why I say Molik lost his
head," Sorenson said. "He'll have to
improvise now. Something I don't
think he's too good at."

"V/ell," Bill broke in. "Now that
you've settled the future of Molik,
suppose you fellas get to work on us."

"Look, Bill," Vic said sharply. "As
long as Molik has those energy guns
he's top dog. One blast and we'd be
dust, settling on the floor. So just re-

GEHENNA. INCORPORATED

139.

lax for a while *'

QORENSON had hit the nail
^ squarely on the head when he said
Molik couldn't improvise well. At
that moment he was pacing back and
forth before the lift. His face was
swollen and discolored from the
pounding Vic*s fists had given it.
Now and then he would pause and
look darkly upward, as if in indeci-
sion, then once again resume his rest-
less pacing.

Squatting on their haunches were
his seconds, a Eurasian of varied
breed, small, lean, vicious-eyed, called
Dao San; and a lanky Englishman
with a bad cast in one eye, and a
penchant for using a knife, a man
named Sam Higgins.

"Looks like Boris swallowed a bit
more'n he c^n chew," Higgins ob-
served.

"I think our friend is worried about
the woman," San remarked. "He has
reason to be. They bring nothing but
trouble. It is my opinion that all wom-
en should be strangled the instant
they begin to talk. Their mouths are
the nooses in which we entangle our-
selves."

Higgins squealed in laughter.
"Hee-hee! But sometimes it's plea-
sant to die in the noose," he observed.
"You are a pig," San said without
malice. "A gross pig."

"Wrong, San. Just sensible, that's
Sam Higgins. I never think about the
future. The present's hard enough to
work with. Now take Boris. He wants
to be the big-shot but he just ain't
got the capacity. Me, I just take
what comes along and don't worry
none about the morrow."

"A most sensible attitude," San
agreed with the other. "Aah! I think
our friend has made a decision. Here
he comes. ., .''

Boris scowled darkly down at the
two. As San had said, he had made

his mind up. He was going to risk
the future on a single cast of the
dice. It was to be all or nothing. If he
failed, he shrugged his shoulders.
Failixre was better not thought of.

"San, Higgins," he began, "there's
no use in just sitting down in this
hole anymore. We might as well
finish what has been begun. Take two
crews upstairs. And with them take
four energy guns, concealed of course.
We can't risk exposure, so clean up
everything up there. We must gain
control of the whole area. I'll stay
down here for a spell and map out a
plan of future operations."

Without a word the two men rose
and started out for their crews.
Boris, still scowling watched them
depart. He had planned well and
long and now the moment of decision
had arrived. The dice were cast and
there was no turning back.

Molik had been hired at the very
beginning when the contest had
started, by Europeans Inc. His job
was that of sabotage. But with the
passing of time Molik had come to
the realization that whoever con-
trolled the workings could name his
own price. His men had infiltrated
everywhere. He knew even better and
to a greater capacity, the exact dis-
tance covered by the master drill.
The readings of the gauges had been
transmitted to him even before they
reached Vic Stewart.

He knew, for instance, a fact Vic
wasn't aware of. A piece of scien-
tific apparatus had been put into use,
apparatus Vic had no l^nowledge of,
yet which had been sent to the field
office. This wondrous gauge mea-
sured the amount of energy in the
rock which had been drilled out.
By this means the drilling could be
determined exactly. And Boris knew
it was a matter of a very short time
and their goal would be reached.
Widi this knowledge Molik felt

140

AMAZING STORIES

he had the best hand to play.

He watched the hundred men file
into the gigantic cage and saw it
soom upward. Then he called to
several men, with strange-looking
weapons cradled in their arms, and
•tarted out to where the prisoners
were.

f fT OOKS LIKE the head rat is

*^ heading this way,*' Sorenson
observed.

"Too bad he's got his bully boys
with him," Vic said. "I'd like to fin-
ish what I started."

Normals hand fell on his arm.
"Please, Vic. No trouble!"

He smiled into her eyes. ''Don't
worry, baby," he said. "I won't start
anything. Not until you're in a safe
spot, anyway."

Molik's cold glance travelled over
them as he stood, hands held on hips,
legs spread wide, shoulders hunched,
the naked, hairy chest gleaming with
sweat. "So — o! Now Molik gives the
orders, eh? Very well, then. I want
no trouble from any of you. I have
placed men with guns to watch you
for the present. When my men have
returned form the field above I will
determine what will be done with
you."

"That's decent of you, Molik," Vic
said. "But tell me. What's this all
about? You're not thinking you can
win out, are you ?"

For the first time the face lost its
scowl. A thin smile broke on the
man's lips. "And why not?" Molik
asked. "Is it so much a thing of
doubt? Do not be fooled by circum-
stances. Down here we are the masters
of the world, no matter what those
above may think. They above created
a Frankenstein and unless they cater
to us that monster will destroy them."

"Don't be a damn fool!" Vic said
sharply. "They'll send a regiment
down here and wipe you up as if you

were spittle on the walk."

"Bah! You talk but like a child,
talk without cerebration. Molik's no
fool. He has the drills and borers.
And he has something you don't have,
the knowledge that we are within a
hundred yards of our goal. Let them
try to use force. I will blow this
whole world to bits, and them with
it!"

They all read the same message of
madness in Molik's eyes. He would do
precisely as he said, if anyone tried
to cross his path. But what did he
want? Power? Money? It was so hard
to read those eyes, eyes which were
like flat-surfaced marbles.

Molik gestured for the gun-bearing
guards to come close.

"Bring these down to where the
drill is coring," he said. "I want them
where they'll be close at hand.

ffTTOW LONG have we been
*^ down here?" Bill Meredith
asked feverishly.

Vic glanced at his watch. "About
eight hours."

"I can't take too much more of
this," Bill said, as he began a quick
pacing back and forth in the narrow
area of their prison compound.

"Easy, Bill," Vic cautioned as he
rose from where he had been seated
at Norma's side, and joined his friend.

"Easy hell!" Bill growled. "I'm
worried about my wife and boy up
there. This Molik's crazy ! He'll blow
up the whole world."

"No he won't," Vic said. "He gains
nothing by doing that. There won't be
any glory for him, then. And guys
like Molik have to have their glory."

Suddenly Bill's voice was a tense
whisper: "Vic! Those guards are
getting lax. Let's rush them. I've
been watching."

"So have I," Vic whispered in re-
turn* "Another while and we will.
I shifted Sorenson and a couple of

SEH£NNA. INCORPORATED

141

others where they'll be in position
for a quick rush/*

•*What about Norma?" Bill asked.

**She'll be safe — if we get to the
guards in a hurry."

Bill gave his friend a quick side-
long look. There were new lines in
the face and an even more determined
look to the jaw. Vic went on:

"It happened kind of quick, my
love for your sister-in-law. But I
guess there isn't much choice. The
world or my love. .. Well, Bill, let's
get back before the guards get ner-
vous. And watch me for the signal."

As if woman's instinct were a live
thing Norma snuggled close to Vic.
She said nothing but the press of her
fingers in his told him volumes.
"Whatever happens," she whispered,
"I love you Vic. I'm not even asking
how or why. Just content for this
moment and any other that may
follow."

Once more the march of the hours
went on. Interminable waiting. They
had been shoved into i sort of angle
of rock, for the reason they would be
easy to watch. Now and then they
saw men swagger past, carrying tools
of one sort or another. The growling
and crunching of machinery went on
apace. Molik had disappeared on some
mysterious mission of his own.

There were three guards, each
armed with the odd-shaped energy
gun. They stood or marched past the
wide opening of the angle. Now and
then one or two sat or leaned against
the wall. But always one of them was
facing the prisoners. Vic became
aware of an increased activity. And
became aware also that the drilling
had stopped.

Then Molik was before them, a
glitter of triumph on his face.

"Gehenna has received my ultima-
tum!" he growled in his hoarse ac-
cented voice. "And they have accept-
ed."

The prisoners looked at each other
in consternation. Had Molik won
without a fight?

" And now you will be privi-
leged to be at the scene of my tri-
umph. I am having all of you
brought down to the last boring."

Norma looked puzzled and Vic ex-
plained in a low voice :

"Molik has reached our goal, evi-
dently. We have a special machine
whose purpose it is to cap the open-
ing, just as in an oil well. Without
the capping machine the gases would
escape and all hell would break
loose. Stay close to me, my dar-
ling-"

nPHERE WERE fully a thousand
men before the opening. They
were tense, expectant, triumphant,
and frightened, all in one. Not a
sound came from their lips as the
eight prisoners were brought to the
small cage which would take them
down to where the boring machine
was to make its last operation.

Molik, his lieutenants and the
three armed guards crowded in after
the prisoners. At a signal from Molik
the operator sent the cage downward
in a sudden rush. Norma pressed as
close to Vic as she could and watched
the walls slide past through the bars
of the almost open cage.

The elevator stopped with a sud-
denness which almost spilled them
out. To Vic, Sorenson, and the rest of
the scene was a familiar one. But to
Norma and Bill Meredith it was fan-
tasy. The place was lighted with a
radiance that was like silver in its
gleam. Vapors escaped the basalt
rocks, vapors which were sulphurous
in their odor. Huge hoses of metal
snaked their lengths along the un-
even floor. Directly ahead stood the
gigantic borer, its nozzle, like the
snout of some huge prehistoric mon-

142

AMAZING STORIES

ster, stuck into the ground. The din
of its operation was terrific in the
confined space. Several dozen men
tended the borer and several dozen
more the various other equipment
which was component to it.

**Come, Stewart," Molik said. "Let
me show you the fine instrument you
never got. Already v/e are within a
dozen yards of our goal,"

Though the heat was intense Vic
felt a fine bead of cold sweat break
out over him as he looked at the
wondrous gauge Molik paraded for
his benefit. It was calibrated in inches
and as Molik said, there was but a
dozen yards to go. Vic's eyes took in
all the other gauges. He noticed some-
thing which seemed to have escaped
the eyes of Molik. There was an in-
tense area of radio-active rock close
by. The counter was swinging wildly.

He acted casual, disinterested as he
turned to Molik. But his eyes never
left off looking at the counter. It was
pointed in the same direction as the
new instrument, which meant the
radio-activation would be reached at
about the same time or perhaps a few
yards before. He had to bank on it
being before. The borer would stop
its work automatically.

"I see you are," Vic said. He placed
his hands behind his back and rocked
on his heels. "But one can never tell,
Molik. The best laid plans might
stray "

"Quotations, my friend, do not in-
terest me," Molik said. "I have the
natural desire to have someone see
and note my moment of triumph. As
soon as the goal is reached Dao San
and Higgins will break the news and
then I have nothing to do but wait
for the representatives of Grant and
Company and Europeans Inc."

"I see. You're going to let the
highest bidder win," Vic said.

"And why not? The one who has
the use of these facilities can QOip^^^pl ,

the world. They will buy at my price."
"And what's your price?" Vic

asked, suddenly tense as he saw the

needle had swung abruptly to zero.
"Absolute control!" Molik stated

flatly.

\riC GAVE THE signal Sorensoi.
^ and the others had been waiting.
The sudden stillness which had come
on at the cessation of operations was
like the sound of thunder from a
cloudless sky.

Instantly Sorenson and the remains
of his crew leaped to the attack. Nor
was Vic a w^hit behind. Forgotten
were the rules of fair play. His fist
pounded a sledgehammer blow to
Molik's groin, doubling the man up
in pain and staggering him backward.
Grasping Norma by one arm Vic raced
for the cab of the borer.

But he was not to reach it without
a fight. As though divining his inten-
tions, Sam Higgins leaped in front of
the two. Vic spun Norma aside as
Higgins suddenly brandished the
knife he always carried in the belt of
his trunks.

"Not so fast, Stewart!" Higgins
growled as he went into a crouch.

"Out of my way or I'll kill you!"
Vic said stonily as he advanced in
short, mincing steps.

"This does the killing, not talk,"
Higgins said, and suddenly leaped
in.

Vic dodged and tried to trip the
other. But Higgins jumped over the
outthrust foot and pivoted swiftly,
slicing with a quick twist of his
wrist. The knife nicked Vic and
drew a thin line of blood from his
side. Once more the circling dance
was resumed.

This time it was Vic who leaped
in. Straight for the other he jumped,
but at the last second, like a tackier
who anticipates the runner's inten-
tion^ so did Vic twist, almost in mid-

GEHENNA. INCORPORATED

143

air, and came in low for the other's
knees.

Higgins tried to leap aside but
didn't quite make it. He slashed
downward as Vic took him off his
feet but the blow was weak and
had no aim. Then the two were at
close grips. Vic grabbed the knife
hand with the fingers of his right
hand and tried to twist it free. But
the Englishman had the fingers of
one hand about Vic's throat. So they
strained and wrestled on the ground,
first one then the other on top. There
was no question in their minds but
that the one who arose would leave
a dead man on the ground.

Higgins' wrist was slippery from
sweat and Vic was finding it more
and more difficult to keep his grip.
As if in from a vast distance Vic
could hear the sounds of battle all
about him. There had been no fir-
ing as yet; the booming sound of an
energy gun's discharge was unmis-
takable. Then he forgot all else as
the tide of battle turned against
him. He lost his grip on the knife
hand and Higgins was on top.

"Now I've got yer!" Higgins
growled.

He raised the knife on high, and
as he held Vic prisoner between his
thighs, plunged the knife down in a
savage thrust.

But Vic, too, was slippery with
sweat. And as Higgins swung the
knixc, Vic twisted desperately to es-
cape it. Higgins was thrown off-
balance momentarily and the knife
missed Vic's body by a fraction of
an inch and clattered against the bare
stone. There was a clang of steel as
the blade broke off at the hilt. And
the two were now more evenly
matched.

Vic arched his body suddenly and
Higgins flew over the other's head
and back about five feet. Like a
streak of lightning Vic came to

his feet and dove for the other. And
this time Vic's tackle was good.
Gripping the other by the throat
Vic banged his head against the bare
stone until there was a horrible sound
of breaking bone and blood and grey
matter oozed from the shattered skull
of the late Sam Higgins.

^IC AROSE on unsteady legs and
^ whirled toward where he had
shoved Norma. She was backed
against the rock, crouched, wide-eyed
and intense. A sob broke her throat
as she dashed forward and threw her-
self into Vic's arms.

He held her close and pressed a
kiss fiercely against her lips. She
responded as fiercely. But their mo-
ment of love was to last only for a
second. A loud booming sound broke
them apart.

They turned and saw Dao San, his
face and body dripping blood, hold-
ing an energy gun. He wasn't aiming
the gun and from the way he was
staggering it was obvious he was
sorely wounded. But now and then
his finger pressed the trigger and
great holes would suddenly appear in
the walls as the energy shells bit
deep into the rock.

Men lay in the twisted, silent
attitudes of death. Here and there
one crawled or sat, moaning in pain.
Now another gun joined the chorus
begun by Dao San. And a third
joined in. Vic caught sight of Sor-
enson, standing at the far end of the
pit, holding a gun at his shoulder.
He was aiming at Dao San. Then the
gun spoke sharply and as if by mag-
ic, the Eurasian simply disappeared,
and with him, the gun.

As if in echo, came another boom-
ing sound. Vic and the girl turned
their head at the new sound. And
there stood Molik. He had somehow
gotten hold of the third gun. It was
he who had fired it, and where Sor«

144

AMAZING STORIES

enson had stood, a shower of dust
settled on the floor.

"Quickly!" Vic shouted. "Into the
borer!"

He ran forward and. dragging the
girl after him, leaped into the cab,
slamming the door closed behind him.
The girl stood at the circular win-
dow and watched the carnage con-
tinue. Molik was firing wildly nei-
ther aiming or caring where the
shells hit. Her hand flew to her
mouth as she caught sight of Bill
Meredith. He had been hurt in the
fight. He was crawling along the
ground on his belly, a foot at a time.
His left arm hung limp. He was
crawling toward the maniac figure
of Boris Molik.

Then Vic was calling to her.

She ran to him, shouting of what
she had seen.

"Look!" Vic commanded, as he
pointed to a window-like aperture
before him.

She looked and caught her breath.
It was like looking into a seething
cauldron of flame, like seeing a vol-
cano in action, like being at the birth
of Gehenna. It was a vast sea of mol-
ten fire, with flames shooting spires
for a hundred miles, with gases sud-
denly bursting into vari-colored
flame.

'*Molik was right. We have to cap
it before it breaks through. Norma!
Get to that switch. Soon as I give
word, press it."

"But Vic!" she tried to twist him
away from the window. "Bill! He's
trying to get to Molik. And Molik is
crazy. He's shooting in all direc-
tions."

"We can't !" Vic twisted out of her
grip. "This has to be done first."

"I— I can't, darling! He's Sally's
man and I must help him."

Vic tried to grab her but he was
a second too late. She was out of the
door and gone. There was but a sin-

gle chance. It might work, Vic
thought, but it would take perfect
timing. Setting the borer's nose
straight ahead, Vic set it going and
leaped from the seat and for the
switch. Flicking it downward, as he
passed, Vic leaped out of the cab
after Norma.

KJOLICK WAS in a crouch. The
gun was cradled in one hand.
Already there were tiny strings of
vapor escaping from the fissures
made by the striking shells. But Mo-
lik seemed unaware of them. His
beady eyes were blank of expression.
Spittle drooled from his mouth, as
his eyes swept back and forth across
the twisted rock floor, as if he were
seeking fresh victims for his fire.

Then his eyes centered on the cab.
He saw a figure dart from it and
an instant later another. Laughing
wildly, Molik pressed the trigger of
his gun again. The laughter died in
his voice. There had been no fa-
miliar sound. Once more and again he
pressed the trigger before it dawned
on him that he was out of ammuni-
tion. Flinging the gun from him he
leaped forward.

"Bill! Bill!" Norma was scream-
ing. "Watch it! He'll kill you!"

Meredith cursed her under his
breath. Despite the pain of a broken
arm and the agony of his belly-crawl-
ing, he felt he had Molik at a dis-
advantage. For Molik had been una-
ware of the fact Meredith was com-
ing up behind him. Norma's voice
would warn him

Raising himself up, Meredith stag-
gered forward toward Molik. He was
still several yards from the man when
he saw him aim the gun, saw him
press futilely at the trigger and di-
vined what had happened. Uttering
a mew of triumph, Meredith charged
just as Molik ran for the girl.
(Continued On Page 146)

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146

AMAZING STORIES

(Continued From Page 144)

But another reached Norma first
and shoved her aside.

**For keeps, this time!*' Vic growled
as he faced Molik.

Like savages the two leaped at
one another. Forgotten were the
niceties of formal fighting. They
fought as animals do, with teeth and
claws and hammer blows of fists.

Now one staggered as a blow
knocked him back, and then the other
fell back before the savage onslaught.
Not a sound was uttered by either,
only the broken sound of breath
being forced into lungs and out
again.

IMAGING wildly Molik suddenly
grabbed Vic about the middle
and wrestled him to the ground. Vic
tried to pound a knee into the mad-
man's groin but they were too close
pressed. He gouged at the other's
eyeballs but missed and was reward-
ed by a blow in his windpipe which
made him gag for breath. The ground
was sharp with pointed rock and it
gouged and bit at the wrestlers. Mo-
lik's finger nails ripped shreds of
flesh from Vic's checks as he also
tried for an eye gouge. Vic turned
his head and pressed it down against
the other's sweaty chest. And sudden-
ly Vic brought his head up sharply.
There was a whip-like crack as
Vic's skull took Molik in the chin,
and Molik released his hold.

It was enough. Vic shot erect and
as Molik tried to follow, Vic kicked
him as hard as he could on the jaw.
Molik*s head smacked against the
floor. But if Vic thought the other
was through, he was mistaken. Mo-
lik rolled away from a second kick
and scrambled erect. Lowering his
head he hurled himself on Vic once
more. The action was unexpected and
the smaller man took the blow in the
pit of the stomach and fell to the

ground like a poleaxed steer.

And Molik backed away a foot
or so then leaped high in the air
with the intentions of driving his
heels into the fallen man's face. It
didn't quite work out as he thought it
would.

Like a wildcat protecting its young
Norma leaped into the fray. Diving
straight forward she threw herself at
Molik and knocked him to one side.
He staggered about trymg to recov-
er his balance and Norma leaped at
him her fingers tearing at his face.
He struck her a backhand blow which
knocked her five feet away and out.
But those few seconds were enough
for Vic to recover. If rage had torn
at him before, it was as nothing to
what he felt at sight of what Molik
did to Norma. There was nothing
human in the scream Vic Stewart
gave as he leaped at Boris Molik
again.

Demoniac strength seemed to be
his as he drove his fists through the
guard thrown up by the other. Time
after time his fists broke bone and
flesh. And still Molik stood, like a
badly-shaken bear, hurt, yet not
down. But though Molik was not
down the will to fight was gone. It
would only be a matter of time be-
fore Vic's wild blows would serve
their purpose.

Suddenly Molik turned and ran.
Vic let his hands fall and a second
of utter weakness shook him to the
core. He could not have taken a
single pursuing step if it meant his
life. Not until he sav/ the goal of
Molik's running feet.

Dao San had dropped his gun as
the blast of the energy shell took
him. The gun was what Molik was
seeking. And was going to get before
Vic could stop him. As in a daze,
Vic saw the man stoop, saw him lift
the gun, saw the expression of com-
plete joy and triumph on the broken,

GEHENNA, INCORPORATED

147

bloody face and saw him aim the gun.

Not even a prayer could save him,
Vic knew.

He closed his eyes as the finger
tightened on the trigger, and heard
the great booming sound of the gun
firing.

**Vic! Vic, darling !'' he heard Nor-
mals voice as from a vast distance.
His eyes opened and widened in un-
belief at what they saw. An energy
shell had caught Molik's upper body
and had torn him in two. Then
Vic turned in time to see Bill Mere-
dith, still holding the gun, fall to
the floor.

TPHE MAN and girl reached him
at the same time.

"Bill. Bill, are you okay?" Vic
asked as he cradled the other's head
in his arms.

Norma knelt at Meredith*8 side and

bit her lip in anxiety.

"Yeah. I'm okay. Just all beat out,
that's all."

"You saved his life. Bill!'' Norma's
voice held an edge of tears and
hysteria.

Vic shook her gently to and fro
as he let Bill go easily. "Now hon-
ey," he cautioned. "Easy does it.
We're not quite out of the woods."

"Why?" she asked in a more near-
ly normal tone.

"Several reasons," he replied.
"But first let's get to see how bad
Bill is."

The worst of Meredith's wounds
was a trifle. But the broken arm
would need taking care of. Already
the agony of it was taking its toll.

"Now you stay with Bill," Vic
told the girl. "I did something just
before I ducked out of the cab and
(Concluded on page 152)

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Where science fiction fan clubs get together.

Conducted by ROG PHILLIPS

THIS ISSUE is being written as I am
hurrying to get things cleared away
for my Irip^ to L Cinyention Fm way
behind on correspondence, and I have
^ads of letters and announcements that
should appear in this issue, but must
wait until the next one. .

It wUl be my first fan convention. HI
probably walk around ^ug-eyed like the
?est of the newcomers, while throng-
toe fen show their «tuf/. f t I wf get
A chance to meet a lot of , ^ ^ll^^s i ve
learned to know and like through their
le?ters and fanzines and writings m faii-
zines. I know I will haye lots of ^n
alon^ with everyone else. There s Milt
Kothman with whom I've been conduct-
ing a feid in F.A.P.A. , Art Kapp, whom
I missed when he passed through Chi-
iag^ once, and dozens of others. All
friends, and all stf fans.

From there Til be going to New York
for the first time, and wiU meet a lot of
iZiS there. We heard a lot about ^e
big city, and bought a safety P^^ to pm
up my pocket I keep my ^allf m when
I ride on the subway where all the pick-
pockets hang out, so they say jn detec-
tive stories, ni take a trip out to the
statue of Liberty, the only thing any
country in Europe ever gave US, and
when no one's looking 111 write, Rog
Phillips was here. Then when you go
to New York you can go out and look for
it It will be my contribution to history.
A^ long as Liberty and Justice prevails m
GUI- country, there will be a record that
*'Rog Phillips was here.

Bv the time you are reading this it
will be all over. I'll be back m Evanston,
where people can stop the bus and asK
the driver questions without getting on,
and not have him sound off like he owns

the city. . . .^ , . ,./.

Every city has its spirit, and is dit-
ferent like people are different. In fact,
a city is a person in many ways, with
its personality, ambitions, business, etc..

So is a nation. And one of the finest
things about living is to be able to get
to know people and cities and nations
until they are all like people and friends.
The greatest thing in life is friends. (No,
I haven't had too much beer. Im just
growing philosophical for the moment
with no more in me than a cup of cof-
fee.)

When you don't know people you get
exaggerated ideas about them. Will Rog-
ers once said, "I never met anyone I
didn't like." That just about sums it up.
If you really know a person you general-
ly get to like them, or at least understand
them. There are exceptions, of course; bu^
some of those exceptions are due to lacK
of understanding. a ui«.

In a way, fandom is a person A big,
growing, rambunctious person, full ot nu-
^lor and spirit. In the last two years Ive
gotten to know it pretty well. The time
isn't far off when fandom will be lost in
Ihe mass of people as science fiction comes
into its own. It's expandmg. Its g« ing
into slick magazines, books, and pocket
books. I have a pocket book coming out
myself which will be on the stands when
you read this. It's an original, not a re-
print, and is called "Time Trap", and has
a very nice cover by Malcolm Smith Its
by Century Publications, and, incidentally,
my 'first story outside magazine form. It
isn't too good, but maybe you might en-

''^Now we come to the fanzines for re-
view this issue. The best way to 8*et into
fandom is to subscribe to some of them
and find out what's going on. You 11 get
plenty of fun and entertainment out of
it that will amply repay you. ^

Ordinarily no special importance is at-
tached to first position in review of fan-
zines. This time, however, I want to make
it a sort of position of honor, welcoming
the very first fanzine from Ireland! Its
from Walter A. Willis, 170 Upper New-
townards Rd. , Belfast, N. Ireland. In a
letter accompanying his zme Walter says
there are only three actifans that he
knows of in Ireland. The art editor of
this fanzine, SLANT, is James White.
The contents page lists Olive Jackson and
Cedric Walker as also contributing.

When I read how SLANT was pro-
duced I thought of the old saying, "Where
there's a will there's a way." , No mim«)
machme could be obtained m Ireland.
Walter picked up an old printing press
and set the type by hand. Also, and you
fan artists in America take note, the il-
lustrations were produced on plywood witii
a razor blade. -r , i i.

And if those boys m Ireland show re-
markable energy, they show as much abil-
ity to make the contents worth reading.

148

THE CLUB HOUSE

149

Cedric Walker's "All Dogs Are Equal",
for example. lf» as good a »tory 'wr'tS
find in any prozine, and better y,rmm
than the average. There's a department
^furf %he Prving Fan". That should
S^or IrevisZ of the old saying How
Sout "Out of the prying fan into the
S>" Walt Willis is a natural punster.
fo his editorial he says. "Print ng runs in
our family, and I have merely reverted
to type."

DAWN: the fanzine from Kentucky, a
letLzine- IOC. 3/25c; Lester Fr-d 2050
Midland. Louisville 4, Ky. <^nar es dui
bee leads off this issue with a long let-
^'r that answers Rick Sneary^s defense of
NFFF in a previous issue, and also a
few other letters that >^e thought needed
answering. I agree with Burbee that the
NFFF should not expect fan editors to
ffive NFFF'ers a discount, because they
flreadv take a loss on their fanzines. I m
?alkfng about dollars paid out for materi-
als not wages, because the average fan-
tm doesn't^ sell more than a hundred
copies and sells for ten cents which m-
cludS three cents postage. The seven dol-
larsleft after postage has to buy ten 1x>
ihl?ty stencils, Ink mimeo , P-P^- ^^^^^
It would be interesting to learn tiom sev
era! fan editors how many ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Xgether to put out a ^f'^'^%'''f'i^'^
addressing the copies and mailing theni.
My ^ess^s at least thirty hours of work

—work they want to do or they wouldn t
do it, but work, nevertheless. For no pay,
and more often than not with part of the
coats coming out of their own pocket, bo
why should any fan want to get a dis-
count? It should be the other way

^^Ed Cox has second place with a letter
about dealers* prices. Evan H. Appelman
comes next with a very long letter de-
fending scientists and Dr. Rhine of Du.ce
University, then goes into his idea tor
a fan better business bureau, of w-hich
Burbee, in his letter, said, "Why such an
elaborate set-up for perhaps 500 people.
Well, fandom has grown from three hun-
dred names when the CLUB HUUbii. tiist
started, to no one knows how many now;
but it's a lot more than Burbee suspects,
I suspect. Just the same, on reading over
Evan Appelman's plans, I can see noth-
ing he has to offer that can't be found
already by subscribing to a judicious se-
lection of fanzines regularlv.

Rick Sneary follows with a discussion
of the choice of convention site. He ad-
vocates that it be done by NFFF, with
which I don't agree. The annual conven-
tion belongs to all fandom and should re-
main that way. The big objection seems to
be to having some local group go to the
convention and push through its cause
while others don't have a chance because
they don't lobby for it. My opinion is that
{Concluded on Page 150)

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AMAZING STORIES

THE CLUB HOUSE

(concluded irom page 149)

any group strong enough to lobby for it
has enough organization and desire to
succeed at putting over a successful con-
vention. It would be a shame to have the
convention site picked at a spot which
cooled off on the idea and did little to
make it a success.

Art Rapp has a nice letter to close the
letter department, coming up with the
statement that DAWN is called DAWN
because it's published dawn in Kentucky.

FANTASY-TIMES: twice a month; 10c,
12/$1.00; James V. Taurasi, 137-03 32nd
Ave., Flushing, New York; the newszine
that brings you ALL the news of science
fiction, from the pro and the fan fieWs.
With nine very active fans on the editorial
staff, each a specialist in his own field of
news, it would be pretty hard for any
other fan newszine to equal it.

Of special interest in one of the latest
numbers is the announcement that Rick
Sneary was elected president of YOUNG
FANDOM, which is an organization for
new fans. Rick is one of the finest young
men I've ever been privileged to meet
He lives in South Gate, which is a suburb
of Los Angeles, or rather a section of that
city. He's been a fan a long time, is pres-
ident of F.A.P.A. , and active in many
other groups including the N.F.F.F. . This
is for both boys and girls. The young
lady in charge of the femfans is Arniece
Gurley; but drop a line to Rick Sneary at
2962 Santa Ana St., South Gate, Cali-
fornia, and youll get all the details. Be
sure and enclose a self addressed
stamped envelope, one of the long ones.

SPACEWARP: 9 issues for $1.00; Art
Rapp, 2120 Bay St. , Saginaw, Michigan.
Arts been brmging this mag out pretty
regularly for a couple of years now. It's
always entertaining and full of humor and
good healthy imaginative fan writing.

The July issue contains "Vicious Cir-
cle , by Dan Mulcahy that has plenty of
laughs. It's a satirical future history of
fandom. "The Psycho Lab" is by Wrai
Ballard, who gives this highly entertain-
ing sketch of why he was born: "I was
laying around the Embrionic Gardens
with the other unborn babies, when up
steps this attendant. *Say bud,' he says.
I thought you'd be interested to know
that there's a mag that specializes in
fantasy on the stands. Been out for a
s uple issues already.' *Huh?' says I. *Why
wasn't I notified at once? Quick, brim?
my stork!" *

Wilkie Conner writes one of his Long-
hammer stories, with a forward, 'If H.P.
Longhammer resembles anyone living or
d^d, the guy should be ashamed to admit

That just covers some of the highliehts
of SPACEWARP. Honestly, now, how
can you go through life not reading
SPACEWARP? ^

BURROUGHS BULLETIN: No. 9, V.
and Dorothea Coriell, 1100 Western Ave-
nue, Peoria, Illinois. The free fanzine de-
voted exclusively to Edgar Rice Bur-
roughs' looks. Be sure and enclose a
stamp when you send for it. A letter and
article by Arthur Maxon, M.Sc. , Cornell
Universi^, claims that Tarzan is a real
person, and that he met him in Africa,
and, as Tarzan himself says, "In fact, I'm
a friend of Burroughs. He visits me at my
estate quite often, and while he's there he
takes netes on the stories I tell him."
Whataya know! Move your Burroughs
books over into the non-fiction shelves, all
you librarians! Anybody wanna boycott the
Burroughs Mystery?

SPEARHEAD: August, vol. 1 no. 3;
Editor Tom Carter, 817 -Starling Ave,
Martinsville, Va. . Ten cents per copy, and
with thirty-seven mimeographed pages
they can't win. A look at the contents
page shows David H. Keller, Wrai Bal-
lard, Herman King, Gerry de la Ree,
Redd Boggs, Art Rapp, and Don Wilson
contributing. What more can you want?
The cover, by Ray Nelson, depicts a cou-
ple looking at the exploding ruins of an
atom-bombed city.

Also included with this copy is a copy
of a mimeo fifty-one page novel, and a
letter about it from Tom Carter:

Dear Rog:

Under separate cover I'm sending you
a review copy of ^'No Greater Dream"
by Joe Kennedy. This is the first of a
series of similar mimeographed booklets,
and I would grealy appreciate your re-
viewing it in the CLUB HOUSE. You
might mention that the price is 75c, which
niay sound like a lot, but which we must
charge to break even. It will be followed
^7t Jii. ^£,"?ction of the best of the Amy
Worth Tales by Keller. A rarely fine col-
lection....

Cordially,
Tom.

And I might add that the mimeography
is perfect. It's an excellent job and well
worth the seventy-five cents. Good luck,
Tom and I hope you sell enough copies to
break even. Every fan knows how expen-
sive it is to put out.

ROCKET NEWS LETTER: journal ^t
the Chicago Rocket Society, 15c, $1.50/yr.:
Vincent Story, 6747 University Ave.,
Chicago, 111. This is developing into a
really worthwhile zine, and gives you the
latest in rocket research and theory from
the technical minds that spend all their
time on it. Pro writers and fans alike

THI CLUB HOUSI

151

wiU find Ple«Vrar\iclX'%SS'
» » r'^ J''" Set PropXnts", by

Roosevelt College.

RIOOMINGTON NEWS LETTER:

around four hundred. copies Ana ^t
issue Redd B?«f„ '"'^eis^Xe has litlJal-

(s six, double column P^ges. aKhh|ht of

has gotten married!

.^//'''^''^f Sco^'pJesr BethalS;
McAdams, The Marco r ,

Kit^f ^ofi^f'; coirxhis i^^ th«

flnlfnf sUd for ^^^^^^^^ -f-ol'e sS
mathematics and espe«a^ly ^^^^.

with some really good writmg.

ODD: published when and ^yOc-'pR-g;
Fisher. Jr., 1303 Lester at. rp
Mo.. Mimeographed wth "el^to "o ^^^^^
feature in this "sue 's a swry,
Russel's Last Experiment . by max.

inAQTJTTAND REVIEW: 10c; . Tom
WASTELANV "^ T „ Arizona;

him a boost.

<sTjrfiTLY DIFFERENT'. 10c; Alan M.
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That's all for this time, Next month I
can Sve you my impressions of the Cm-1
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3»i W*y to tndwing low and happines'-

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152

(Concluded from page 147)
I've got to get back and see if it
worked.'

The switch was still in the down
position. Quickly Vic ran to the win-
dow, a silent prayer on his lips. A
huge sigh of relief broke from him

^n X ^""^"^ °"*- ^^" ^""'^^ had brok-
en through the last crust, and as it

Grtn. Tr ^"^ S°"^ •"*° «t'°n-

race rt ''""^^'"^ ^^' ^°" ^" ^^^
race The cap was on and the rest

would be a matter of time and wort
Vic had saved the world. For hadn't

LV'T"^ I' ^'"'* ''^^' *'^^ ^^'^^ would
have broken through the crust and
the escaping gas would have taken
tire and exploded. The whole planet
would have become a flaming^^re
for every human on its surface

He ran from the cab and told them
of what had happened.

"That's fine," Bill wheezed. "But
what about Molik's men above in the

n.. . uT"*'°"- We're still not
out of the fire."

But Vic thought otherwise The
sight of them. Vic said, plus the
fact that they had an energy gun
would convince them Molik had lost
'....What's more if we promise
immunity they'll give in," Vk said
He was right in every respect
The audio-television was blaring
the news to the world. Grant and
Company had obtained all rights to
the energy of the Earth's interior
by being first at the scene.

Bill Meredith, his arm in a sling
the other about the shoulder of hfs

which his wife occupied. Norma and
Vie Stewart were seated side by
side on a love scat. They had waited
only until Bill's and Sally's son had
gone to bed before the talk began

What do you think Molik would
have done?" Bill asked.

AMA/^'NS STORIES

"He was crazy, for sure," Vic an-
swered. "And it's hard to say what
a madman can do. I thought he was
at the seat of all the trouble, but I
couldn't quite figure out how he was
going to manage. But he was right
about one thing. Whoever controls
this thing, controls the world."
"Then let me tell you something

you dont know." Norma said as her
fingers caressed the torn flesh of
Vies cheek. "Grant and Company is
but another name for the United
States Government."

"What?" the two men exclaimed in
unison.

"That's right. My mission was a
what happened to a certain instru-

TtoSn w'T ^"^^'^"'"-'^^ Molik had
stolen. We knew then that maybe
other interests might try sabotage.
The Government couldn't permit a
private firm the gigantic powers
which would be theirs should this
undertaking be successful. And the
Government also knew Europeans
Inc. was but another name for a
foreign power. We had to get there

.^'^^f ^^ ^""^ ^"gn'. "A spy.
eh^A Mata-Hari. eh. My lovely littfe'

iTke . "'' '^''^' ^""^ ^°"Jd you
like to live in Gehenna?"

She shuddered involuntarUy. "Uh
thmj^ to want to live in its name-

_'Darli„g." Vic whispered gently.

No matter what its name, wherever

you „e IS Heaven. Just remember

The kiss he got in return for his

Znds"'''^ '™ '°^^^* «» ''•"
wounds, except the one love gives

And that Death alone can remove ..'
THE END

By LYNN STANVISH

As EVERYONE knows the two sys-
tems of transmitting TV signals from
on« place to another over long distances,
ar« 07 either coaxial cable or high fre-
ouency relay stations. There are numerous
links of both types lacing various portions
of the country. Each has its advantages
and disadvantages with the edge going to
the relay, we think.

Coaxial cable is buried beneath the

ground. It is expensive but tough. It has,
owever certain limitations with regard to
th« width of the signal it can carry. This
means that not as many channels can be
sent nor as clearly. Furthermore it re-
tiuires numerous booster stations along
tne line.

On the other hand the relay station is
nothing but a re-transmitter which picks
up the signal and rebroadcasts it in a
narrow beam which is flipped from tower
to tower at forty or fifty mile intervals.
It can have any band width and the num-
ber of channels it will handle is only
limited by tlie transmitting facilities. Of
course it requires constant maintainance,
even without occupancy. These signal tow-
ers with their parabolic antennas will un-
doubtedly be a very familiar part of the
American landscape from now on. They

are unattended and equipped with auto-
matic devices that guard against trouble.
They're expensive out permanent. Fur-
thermore they require a minimum of area.

In view of these facts we think that the
major long distance TV systems will fa-
vor the relay station method. It is a rath-
er romantic and picturesque sight to see
this lone chain of stations silently dis-
tributing the fascinating views it can.
Eventually every spot in America will be
linked to every other spot by the invisible
chain of audio and video radio waves, just
as the former links us now.

It is interesting to note that a number
of small towns which are just a little be-
yond the fringe area of TV transmitters
have successfully managed to have TV by
constructing what might be called their
*'private relay stations". Technical mind-
ed men in the towns have thrown up high
receiving towers capable of getting the
signals, then re-amplified them and re-
broadcast them over the surrounding area.
The system works fine and undoubtedly
will be a common method of supplying
small towns off the beaten track with
plenty of satisfactory video.

The clever ingenuity of the California
amateur who built a TV transmitter from
surplus parts and is now operating a lim-

FORGOTTEN MYSTERIES

YES, THEY ARE THE STRANGEST

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Friends of his will have TV if thoy have
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FMTASTIC FACTS

By LEE OWEl^S

WITCH DOCTOR SECRETS

FOR HUNDREDS of years the witch tsoc-
tors of Africa have treated the diseases
of their tribesmen with herbs and drugs
found in the African bush country. They
have kept their secrets to themselves hand-
ing them down from one generation to the
next. Recently, through the persuasiveness
of some British scientists, the native doc-
tors have agreed to let their brews and po-
tions be examined in modern laboratories.
They consented after being told that their
medicines may be able to help people all
over the world. Their medicines will first
be tested on laboratory animals to decide
what value they have in treating himian
patients. Who can say to what extent the
savage witch doctors can contribute to mo-
dern science?

THE BIG EYE AT WORK

THE WORLD'S largest and most power-
ful telescope which is located ^n Mt.
Palomar in California, has done iva first
job. Scientists have peered through the
scope and twice as far out into the heavens
as they have ever been able to see before.
Whole new worlds of stars were seen. To
some who had once thought that there was
an edge or an end to the universe, the big

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THE BIG EYE AT WORK

155

telescope tends to prove this idea false.
They have sighted stars so far distant that
it takes their light a billion years to reach
our Earth. Most astronomers now agree
that there is no end to the universe, but
that it goes on infinitely. But this is only
the beginning of the new knowledge that
will be gained through the use of the big
telescope. In years to come it will unfold
many facts which are mysteries to us now.

ANTI-SOCIAL PLANTS

MOTHER nature has provided certain
trees and shrubs with methods of
keeping away undesirable neighbors. Some
plants send out heavy masses of roots that
crowd out all other plant life. Recently it
was discovered that some plants give off
poison and wage a sort of chemical warfare
against their associates. The leaves of the
wormwood shrub contain a poison which is
washed to the ground by rains thereby pro-
tecting it against aggression. A desert
shrub called the "guayule plant" makes sure
of a spot for itself giving off a poison
through its roots. The poison effects the
soil for quite a space around the plant, and
any seeds that happen to fall in this area
fail to sprout.

QUIET!

THE MODERN home is a marvel in
many ways. Heating, resistance to
corrosion, comfort, air conditioning, simple
and logical placement of rooms and serv-
ices, the lavish use of electrical gadgets —
all these things are almost perfect. Yet,
there is something wrong with most mod-
ern construction, something that is only
now being considered. It is the matter of
noise I

Our modem civilization is charac-
terized by noise-making apparatus ranging
from trains, cars, motors etc. to radios,
clattering pans and active people. Yet to
anyone examining our homes without pre-
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our houses were all located in hospital
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there is hardly any conscious effort made
to insulate a home against noise.

As is usual, the initial steps have been
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men, are trying to reach standards which
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Psychologists have attributed a portion
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a continual barrage of noise. Hence acous-
tic studies will undoubtedly have a strong
influence on medicine.

The acoustical insulation of « hom« de-

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pends on certain unobvious things. Floors
and ceiling must be suspended so as to
absorb and dampen vibration and sound.
Walls must be designed insulate not only
against heat but against sound waves.
Sometimes these two fields conflict and a
compromise must be reached.

But in general skilled architectural de-
sign can provide insulation against noise.
There are a large number of public apart-
ment buildings in Holland and in England
which have been constructed with a wide
variety of techniques. These are occupied
by ordinary families and are serving as
laboratories to determine the best, cheap-
est and most efficient ways to eliminate
the bugaboo.

For floors for example, there is no bet-
ter sound deadener than two layers of
concrete isolated by a layer of glass wool.
This ''floating floor" provides almost per-
fect sound isolation. For walls, cinder
blocks, separated by a couple of inches of
dead air space perform admirably.

It is probably true that in the years to
come people will buy homes with this
sound isolation in mind. It certainly is an
important matter in shops, factories,
laboratories and offices. But there it is be-
ing considered. Now it remains to come
into the home. Drop that other shoe, Mack,
before I go crazy!

RUBBER ROADS

SOMEDAY YOU may drive your car
over a rubberized highway. Three states
are planning to build test roads of natural
rubber to determine whether such high-
ways could be practical in this country.
Rubberized highways are not a new idea.
Holland and the Netherlands East Indies
experimented with it before the war and
found that they stood up very well during
the difficult war years.

To make this new type of surfacing, rub-
ber powder is mixed with an oil and as-
phalt. This gives the road an elastic qua-
lity which lets it wear much longer. The
rubber keeps the moisture out and prevents
freezing which often makes cracks in or-
dinary roads. The rubberized surface makes
a non-skid road free from dust.

HEATED HIGHWAY

IN OREGON, a particularly dangerous
stretch of road is heated to keep it free
of ice and snow. Pipes have been buried
eight inches under the concrete through
which runs a mixture of water and anti-
freeze heated by natural hot springs in the
region. As this liquid runs through the
pipes, it keeps the pavement about a fifty
degree temperature.

Another short stretch of heated highway
is in Detroit, Michigan. It is only 500 feet
long and it is heated by electricity and ifi

HEATED HIGHWAY

157

^os kept f re« from slippery ice and snow.
Bocause of the hisrh cost of installing and
maintaining such highways, they cannot be
widely used in the United States, but along
certain dangerous stretches of highway, it
would certainly pay off in human lives to
eliminate ice and snow.

4,000 M. P. H. WIND

AKEW WIND tunnel which creates a
breeze of 4,000 miles per hour is being
used by an aviation company to test guided
missiles. This new tunnel does not use the
blower system. Instead, one end of the tun-
nel holds a huge air-storage tank. Placed
at the opposite end of the tunnel is a big
vacuum tank. When they want the breeze
to blow, they suck all the air out of the
vacumm tank and pump the storage tank
full. Then at the turn of a switch, the air
rushes from the storage tank, through the
tunnel and into the empty vacuum tank.
The engineers place their scale models be-
tween the two tanks. They watch what hap-
pens to these miniatures when the air rush-
es by them, and instruments inside the
models record information.

MECHANICAL MAIDS

* By Peto Bogg *

THIS MAGAZINE has harped loud and
long about the prophecies of science
fiction coming true. It has pointed with
pride to the realization of these predic-
tions—atomic power, moon rockets (they re
almost here), mechanical brains etc. But
we're overwhelmed with the fact that one
needn't go outside his own home to see the
miracle that imagination and scientific
thought have wrought. In fact, the home,
with TV. a myriad of appliances, auto-
matic heating systems, radio, and many
others, gives us the best example of all
of technology at work.

Consider the case of the modern house-
wife. At her beck and call around the
home are no human maid- servants in most
homes at least But instead she has dozens
of electric motors that do everything a
maid servant can do and do it better. No
one need point out the miracle of the auto-
matic electric stove, or the delightful
mechanical mixers, or the powerful vacuum
cleaners, or the brilliant fluorescent light-
ing or the magic of TV and radio. These
things speak for themselves.

Among the most articulate of the home
appliances is the automatic washing ma-
chine. This marvel of electrical and hy-
draulic ingenuity is a tribute to the relief
of tedium. The expression ''washerwoman"
is s)monomous with hard labor, with back-
breaking work. But today it no longer

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1302 Broodwoy BwbMk, Calif.

means anything. Thirty years ago a woman
who said she was going to wash the
clothes made it sound like a prison term,
and in the measure of hard work, it was.
But today, that same woman can put hgr
clothea in a small contraption and watch
mechanism in all its mysterious glory take
over.

A modern automatic washing machij;;ie
will deliver completely washed and wrun^-
out clothes of about ten pounds weight m
a matter of twenty minutes 1 And in tbe
course of the washing not a himian hanfd
will have touched the machine. In fact, idl
one does is feed and empty the machine.
We can suggest only one improfvement and
probably right now this is on the drawjjtig
boards of the manufacturers — or pei^tt^pa
it has been rejected — ^that improvement jB
the incorporation of a hot air blower which
in a matter of a minute or two could dry
the clothing completely.

Did science fiction ever go so far as to
intimate that everything would be done by
the machine? In its flightier moments per-
haps it did, but we doubt whether anybody
expected to see such complete dominance
of the machine in such a short time. Aity-
body who has wasted time visuaMng
robots in psuedo-human form was simply
off the beam. Our robots are squat func-
tional creatures who don^t walk around or
who don^t talk, but brother, they sure cim
work! We're spending our time now wy-
ing to think up something original that
hasn't yet been invented — it's pretty hard
to dol

BlOlOem ATOM

* By F, L. Cope *

THOSE MEN who are seeking to dis-
cover the secret of life, do not turn to
Hhe complete animal to find their solution.
Instead of attempting to study a whc^e
creature, biologists go to the simplest form
of living things, just as a chemist turns to
the smallest and simplest molecules for his
studies. The biologist works on the cell,
the smallest living unit, which might be
called the ''atom of biology."

It is impossible to describe a living or-
ganism in terms of anything smaller than
a single cell. The single cell is the com-
plete life-unit itself. Any further reduction
in size means one is no longer considering
a living unit. Thus if a piece of tissue, say
of the muscles of animals or humans, &
broken down, the point is reached where
the single cell alone exists. To examine a
part of cell, is useless for it no longer lives.
A part of a muscle cell, for example, will
not exhibit the contractual or extensible
properties of muscular tissue. One must
have at least one whole cell to see that.

Cells as a rule are small, averaging pro-
bably no more than a hundredth of a imni*

BIOLOGICAL ATOM

159

meter in size though there are the excep-
tions. An ordinary egg is a huge single cell,
but even here the majority of it is simple
nutriment for the basic portions of the cell.
A human's body contains over hundreds of
thousands of billions of single cells!— all of
them minute.

It has been suggested that dread diseases
may be conquered in the same fashion as
was the atomic bomb. For example, some
say that the government should set huge
laboratories and great sums of money for
the elimination of cancer just as it did for
the creation of the atomic bomb.

Unfortunately this idea is unsound. The
atomic bomb was simply the solution of an
engineering problem. Working on the ma-
lignant ceils of cancer is still an unknown
sort of problem. Scientists do not know
from what direction the answer is likely
to come because they know so little of the
nature of life. If any solution is to be at-
tempted effort and money must be spread
over the whole realm of biological work--
bhen from somewhere, maybe from an ob-
scure biochemist working on cells, or per-
haps from a man working with blood, will
come a suggestion or a clue.

Biology is still in its rudimentary stages.
The fusion of mathematician, chemist and
physicist, with the bilogist, is likely 'to give
rise to a new kind of researcher with an
extremely general sort of knowledge who
will be able to see the problems and their
biological solutions in an entirely different
light.

Getting back to the original thesis, it
looks like the answers to many human trou-
bles, are going to come from the technolo-
gist who is making the study o? cells his
business. Somewhere, locked within that
mysterious protoplasmic core, is a startlmg
tale about the nature and meaning of life—
and the biologist will dig it outl

BRAINSTORM

>^ By June Lurie ^

FEW weeks ago there was a brief
^ ^ newspaper item, hidden in the huge
mass of daily trivia, which had startling
implications. The article described the ac-
tivities of a young technician, a man
trained in electronics and whit an inquir-
ing mind. It said that he was experiment-
ing with "brainwaves".

The article quoted the young man as say-
ing that since it is a known scientific fact
that the working brain involves great elec-
trical activity, including the flow of elec-
tric currents, and it is known that radio
waves are produced whenever an electric
current flows, it automatically follows that
the biain is radiating electromagnetic
waves just as is a radio or TV transmitter.
Furthermore tlie man maintained that the
human mind is receptive to these radio
waves and he gives that as an explanation

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for extra-sensory perception and the ex-
periments of Dr. Rhine of Duke University,

These theories have been advanced before,
but apparently this experimenter is going
to great lengths to prove his contention. His
laboratory is well equipped with encephalo-
graphs, oscilloscopes, and all the multitudi-
nous apparatus of an electronics laboratory.

Unfortunately little else was said and no
idea was given of his techniques, but we
can extrapolate a great deal from what we
know. It is true that the brain engages in
electrical activities and that currents with
their associate radio waves are produceci.
Science has known this for a long time. Un-
doubtedly regular labs are working on the
same problem. The trouble is that we hear
so little of the progress — if any — that we
don't often think about the matter.

As we see it, the explanation of the brain
as a radio transmitter is sound — but there
is one difficult question to answer. Since
the currents in the brain are so feeble
and the resultant radio waves must also
be weak, how is it possible for the mind
to pick up these minute oscillations at any
distance much less the thousands of miles
over which extra-sensory perception has
been known to occur?

The brain, in order to do that, must be
an exceedingly sensitive receiver, much bet-
ter than anything we have constructed in
the lab. But this is contradictory too, for
it is known that receivers have been made
of incredible sensitivity, hardly capable of
being exceeded by the brain. Yet. . .

We simply don't know the answer. Very
likely it is possible as a number of scien-
tists have suggested, that the future pur-
suit of science will revolve around psychol-
ogy, biology and all the other natural sci-
ences instead of the physical sciences as is
now the case. In any case where there is
a will there is a way, and Man is not prone
to give up when a job is started. We pre-
dict that eventually the problem of brain
communication will be solved — as it has
been in so many science fiction stories. It
is inevitable. Apparently there are no lim-
its to human ingenuity.

BMITTI'S BABY

* By Sandy Miller ^

THE DICK TRACY wrist-watch radio is
old stuff. We mentioned a few months
back that scientists were well in the pro-
spect of constructing just such a radio. At
that time they were close to it, because the
techni(3ue of the printed circuit was just
being developed.

It seems that Dr. Brunetti of the United
States Bureau of Standards in Washington,
has finally produced the world's smallest
practical complete transmitter-receiver.
This little gadget which is about the size
of a package of cigarettes can be strapped
to the wrist and it contains all the elements

BRUNEHI'S BABY

161

for both receiving and sending. Thejn-
umDh of the radio ait nere la. wic

ment? Will sets become conceivably^^^^^^^^^

of what we ''"°^- ,, „-„erf ul batteries and
the first; very ~P°^^^ circuit, along
the invention of «^« /^f*,^*^roximity fuses
with n'lni^iture tubes tor P .^^ ^e-

^d ^^r-vfs" because components of radio
ceives a yes "^S"!. .jailer all the time,
equipment are getting smal^ra^ ..citizens"

Right now It 1?. P°f '°'* ions ^f the mil-

!&'SrtalkS" sTpopular with the

of equipment. EUmmawi g ^^_

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SgAat'^^f something goes wrong

?ou simply plug in a n«^^ ?ff "epercussions

in^£lSn.%"o^st^-^ TV^ receivers

,3e -tfndaid paijs b„l^.,-^^^^
Circuits are complex anu

pair.

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circuit wUl soon conie to the resc^^^^^ ^^ ,

.hall see shortlV TV^etUn^i^ r»-

amaiingly little o» «' » , ^gt. It is an 1

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^^""^ vfJ.TL Ts thfcathode ray tube
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twenty years from "ow^ ^ ^j^^ ^ent I
SK^eTe^^t tt7a*ct*ory liuch less good.
o\ well. tbafs.proEess. ^^ ,

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f wny ?-youjust_wwtj^^J€^ -

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hr 0? S:fwh?in^on1 Umal lifel

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162

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ALL the SECRETS of a CON MAN

Jieveakdl

The True Story of
"Yellow Kid" Weil

Americans Master
Swindler . . . As Told to

W. T. BRANNON

Ace Writer of
True Defective Stories

"Yellow Kid" Weil took more than $8,000,000
from gamblers, business men, bankers, and un-
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From this he progressed to elaborate set-ups
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gambling houses. He rented suites of offices and
even entire buildings, completely furnished, and
operated by stooges hired to impress his prospects.
At one time he operated both a bank and a hotel.
He was famous for the elaborate detail with which
his schemes were planned and carried out.

His favorite prey was the man who already had

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ZIFF-DAVIS PUBLISHING COMPANY

Dept. F, 185 North Wabash Avenue

Chicago 1, Illinois

1§

^ y,

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