Time Travel Omnibus, page 81
“Toroh had taken two of the dogs. There was one left, and almost continually it was pacing about the house outside. We realized that even if we succeeded in getting away with a few minutes start, the dog would follow and overtake us before we could reach the plane.
“Bool was in one of the outbuildings nearly all that morning. Koa was moving about the house. We did not think she was listening to us; but she was, and evidently she had picked up something of my language—enough to give her the import of what we were discussing.
“She appeared suddenly, and with a furtive glance around, told Azeela she would help us escape. Azeela translated it to me, and the woman nodded grimly in confirmation. She was sorry for Azeela; and she hated Toroh sufficiently to want the girl out of his clutches.
“Koa’s plan was simple and it sounded eminently practical. She had no weapons, and did not know where any were, except those of her father, which she would not dare try to secure. But late that afternoon Bool would be in his room dozing. Koa would lock the dog in the kennel. Then we would be free to depart.
“The sun was almost setting that day when Koa informed us that the time had come. We had restrained our excitement; Bool had apparently not noticed anything unusual in our outward appearance during the day. He had retired to his room as customary, and Koa had taken the dog away.
“I did not altogether trust Koa, and it made me shudder to think of taking Azeela outside and perhaps have the dog spring upon us from somewhere. But we had to chance it, and the woman seemed sincere.
“WE had searched the house as best we could without arousing Bool, but we found no weapon of any kind. At last we were ready, I in my fur coat, Azeela in furs—shoes, trousers, and coat, all one piece. She looked like a slender little Eskimo girl; and I smiled as she pulled up a fur hood that dangled at the back of her neck, and fitted it close about her face, tucking her hair up under it. I had been mistaken about headgear. It just so happened that I had never seen any of this time world except when they had been bareheaded.
“I put on my own cap and we were ready. As we met in the main room, Koa nodded sourly for us to be gone. At that instant the dog, outside in the kennel, gave a long mournful howl. I don’t know why; I suppose it was just fate. Koa, waving us toward the doorway, hastened away to quiet the dog.
“For a moment I hesitated. Should we start? Had the dog got loose? That moment of hesitation was too long. Bool stood in the doorway, staring at our fur-covered figures. Astonishment, anger, rage swept over his face. His hand went to his belt; he jerked something loose. I heard Azeela give a sharp cry of warning. Bool’s hand held an object like a little crescent of glass, with a tiny wire connecting its horns. Sparks darted from the wire.
“I was about to leap forward when suddenly I was stricken. I can only describe it as paralysis. I stood stock-still; my arms dropped inert at my sides. I felt no pain; but I was rooted to the spot, without power to lift my legs. Azeela beside me, was evidently within the influence of the weapon also. She was standing rigid. Bool’s face held a leer of triumph. His left hand was fumbling at his belt for some other weapon.
I knew that in another moment he would have killed us. And still I could not move. I tell you, gentlemen, it was a ghastly feeling. There was a numbness creeping all over me. My hands were turning cold. My feet felt wooden. My legs were giving way under me, and in a few seconds more I think I should have fallen.
“It all happened very quickly. Behind Bool, Koa had appeared. He did not hear her, and she darted forward and struck his wrist. The little crescent of glass dropped to the floor and was shattered. A wave of heat swept over me—the blood rushing again to my limbs.
“Bool had turned furiously upon Koa, but my strength was coming back fast. I jumped at them, caught Bool unprepared. My body struck his and we went down. He fell backward—I on top of him. His hand now held a metal cylinder; he was trying to get it up to my face.
“Azeela came darting across the room, threw herself upon us, and with her two hands twisted the weapon from Bool’s fingers. I did not know she had done it. I was enraged. Bool was kicking, squirming, and his left hand had me by the forehead, pushing my head back to expose my face. I flung myself down on him, my forearm striking his head against the floor. His hold relaxed; he lay still.
“When I got to my feet, Koa was stooping over Bool. She seemed frightened at what she had done although I knew well enough that the man had mistreated her constantly, and that she could bear him no great love. She waved us away—still with that same stolid grimness.
“ ‘Ask her if the dog Is fast,’ I said. ‘Ask her, Azeela.’
“The woman nodded at me vehemently, and I gripped Azeela’s hand and we hurried out. It was just sunset. The sky was like blood; the snowy ground was all tinted with it.
“We ran west, so fast that Azeela could hardly keep her feet. It seemed ten miles, but it wasn’t more than one or two. We slowed up and walked a little, then went back to a run. There was nothing but that unbroken expanse of snow, with the drop that was the river ahead of us.
“At last I could make out the break In the plateau surface that marked the gully. We were running, and were no more than fifty feet from it, when from behind us we heard the loud baying of the dog—that eager baying of a dog following a trail and close upon its quarry! I went cold all over. I knew what had happened. Bool had recovered, and in spite of his daughter had let loose the dog upon us!
“I caught a glimpse of Azeela’s white, frightened face as I gripped her hand and jerked her forward. It was faster than carrying her. She stumbled, almost fell headlong, but I pulled her up and onward.
“We came upon the gully. For one agonized instant I wondered if the plane would still be there. The dog seemed almost upon us. I could hear its eager whine as it came leaping along. Then I saw the plane—snow-covered, but apparently undisturbed.
“We flung ourselves down the gully side, sliding, falling to its bottom. The deep snow there broke our fall. The dog was at the top. I saw its huge head and its bared fangs as it dashed along, selecting a place to descend.
“I jumped to the cabin platform of the plane and shoved open the door. Then I stooped, grasping Azeela under the armpits and lifting her. The dog came sliding into the gully, and gathering itself up—it leaped.
“But we were inside, and I slid the door closed just as the brute’s great body struck the cabin with an impact that rocked the plane. The dog fell, but was up again with a snarl, standing on its hind legs, Its huge paws scratching at the cabin wall.
“I had flung Azeela to the floor of the compartment. She shouted at me reassuringly, and I jumped to the Frazia controls.
“A moment later the helicopters were raising us out of the gulley. The dog’s baffled yelps grew fainter. As we rose into the air I saw Bool, a quarter of the way from the house, stumbling along through the snow, following the trail.
“I went up a thousand feet, dropped a little, and began horizontal flight. To the south, perhaps a mile away, Toroh’s sled, with its two dogs, was swinging up toward the house. He saw the plane, and as we swept over him at an altitude of some five hundred feet, he turned and followed us.
“It was amazing to see those two gigantic dogs run. They must have been pulling the sled at fifty or sixty miles an hour, for they kept almost under us. We came to the south of the island and they went down a declivity, and out over the frozen, snow-covered water. Toroh was lashing them with a long quirt.
“I put on more power, and we gradually drew ahead. When we had crossed the broad expanse of bay, the sled was no more than a black blob in the distance.
It swung to the right, turned and went back—lost to our sight in the gathering darkness.
“We were alone, fairly started southward to Azeela’s native country and her people from whom Toroh had stolen her.”
FOR some minutes past the Big Business Man had been awaiting an opportunity to interrupt.
“I don’t quite understand,” he began, hesitantly. “I’ve been wondering—Loto, you spent a month in that house, but you’ve only been away from us some twenty-eight hours. We know. We’ve been right here. How could that be? You—”
“Your reasoning is quite wrong, Will,” the Chemist exclaimed warmly. “Loto lived in that future time world, went forward in it at its natural pace for the period of a month. Then he returned, back through time, and he stopped off at a point twenty-eight hours farther along than the point at which he started. Don’t you grasp that?”
“I’d like to hear more about Azeela,” Georgie put in timidly. “Where was her home, Loto?”
Loto had refused Georgie’s proffered cigarette, and was fumbling in his pocket. He produced a little black pipe and lighted it before he went on.
“Azeela and her people live on an island which once was the mainland—the southeastern corner of the United States as we know it today. It’s a narrow, crescentshaped island—something like Cuba in outline, but smaller. It is separated from the mainland by a channel some ten miles at its greatest width. It was for this island we were heading—south over what seemed almost a snow-covered waste. It was growing dark, but presently the moon rose—a red moon.”
“And that red, burned-out sun,” mused the Big Business Man.
“No, sir. That’s where you’re wrong—totally wrong. The sun is not burning out. That sun was quite as hot, intrinsically, as the one that shone on you this afternoon. The red color is entirely atmospheric—a condition local to earth. It turned almost to yellow each day as the sun rose higher.”
“But the cold—the snow and ice,” protested the Doctor.
“Climatic conditions, apart from the sun,” Loto answered.
“Climate is the most potent factor of all that influence mankind. This change throughout ten thousand years was dramatic in its effects. It hastened decadence. It drove civilization toward the equator. And then, as though nature were bent upon destruction, disease sprang up in the only warm regions left—disease that could not be coped with. Insects, carrying and transmitting deadly bacteria, swarmed over what we call the torrid zone, making it almost uninhabitable. An exodus from the earth began. The other planets took back their own—and millions of our people went with them.
“You must realize over how long a period this went on. The lifetime of an individual was only a tiny fraction of it. But at last the earth was again cut off. No one bothered to come here from other worlds. They had gone and left us—rats leaving a sinking ship.
“Even that was thousands of years before Azeela’s birth. This island had formed, and nature had seemed to hold it the one place where humanity could make its last stand. A volcano stood at each end—beneficent, treasured because they contained heat. The internal fires of the earth had broken through here. Hot springs and geysers dotted the land. A river just below the boiling point rose from subterranean depths, flowed for a hundred miles, and plunged down again. And a huge range of mountains east and west on the mainland to the north offered shelter from the cold winds that were coming down.
“Upon this palm-covered, tropical island Anglo-Saxons with a strain of Latin settled long before the conditions farther north had become so drastic. They kept to themselves—fought against the pollution of their blood by others. They were the stock of highest type of earth civilization—become decadent.
“For centuries they were left to themselves—to drift along in their own fashion. But with the coming of the cold the mixed races of the north began moving down—coveting the island. Then these island people suddenly sprang into activity. Defense of the homeland brought action. Lost arts of war were revived. The Anglese—that is as near the sound of their word for themselves as I can get—repulsed all comers.
“To the north was now a climate that held snow from September to June. Only three brief months availed for agriculture. The mixed peoples there did not rise to master such rigors. Centuries of struggle turned them almost primitive—with arts and sciences and ways to conquer their environment lost and forgotten.
“Such was the condition as I found it, gentlemen. I can give you details only of our northern half of the western hemisphere. Transportation was back nearly to the primitive; the rest of the world was almost unknown to Azeela’s race.
“We flew the plane all that night, following the coast line south, over snow and ice, with villages here and there—”
Loto stopped abruptly; his gaze went to the windows of the small room in which they were sitting. The stars were growing dim in a brightening sky.
“Why, it’s morning,” he added. “I’ve talked to you all night. See, there!”
“All night,” murmured the Big Business Man. “One night! And I feel as though I had lived millions of them!”
The Banker returned his watch to his pocket. “Go on, boy. Did you get Azeela back to this island?”
“Yes, sir. And I found there a vital crisis impending. I—Oh, mamita, don’t be worried! I must go there again.”
Loto had turned impulsively to his mother. Lylda’s breath was sharply indrawn, but she smiled.
“Go again?” Her low, anxious words were almost inaudible. Her fingers clung to his desperately. “Go again!”
“Yes, mamita. I can help them there. I even think they need me. And I—I want Azeela. I want to marry her.”
His words were tumbling over one another. “Toroh was an Anglese, but they banished him. He was plotting to overthrow the government. When he was banished, he went among the barbarians of the north and began organizing them for an attack on the island. Toroh has scientific knowledge; up there in the north he has been manufacturing weapons. Then he came back to the island secretly, and abducted Azeela. She’s the daughter of Fahn—leading scientist of the Anglese—the man who holds the reins of power. With Azeela as hostage, Toroh planned to make Fahn yield.
“But now I have released Azeela; and Toroh’s attack will come swiftly. That is why I must return—I can help. Toroh is a menace—the greatest figure for evil of that time world. There will be war—a struggle in which the Anglese may go down before the onslaught of Toroh and the hordes of barbarians with whom he has allied himself. Oh, I can’t tell you all the details—I’m too tired.”
Loto did look tired, as though all his reserve strength had suddenly left him. “I came back, because I was afraid I would run out of petrol for the plane. And the Proton current, too. And I wanted to tell you—about it all. You can follow me if I need you. I’ve thought of a way to convey to you that I want you to come.” His pleading gesture was to Rogers. “Let me go there again, father. Please let me go there again!”
• • •
Once again, an evening later, the little company was gathered on the roof of the Scientific Club. The men had been examining the plane. Now they were standing in a corner of the board enclosure, bidding Loto good-by. Lylda seemed more composed at this second parting, but her eyes were misty as she kissed her son.
“You’ve left directions for us, Loto?” she asked anxiously.
“Yes, mamita. With father. He will not open them until I have been gone a month. But, mamita, I will come back before then. You will see. It is nothing for you to worry over.”
Beside the plane Loto shook hands gravely with Rogers.
“You have my letter, father? It explains everything fully. But do not open it until a month has passed.”
“No,” Rogers agreed.
“It might worry mamita,” Loto added softly. “I will come back before a month.” The Banker and the others joined them. “Boy,” said the Banker, “there were a lot of things you didn’t tell us last night.”
“Yes, sir,” Loto agreed smilingly. “But later I can tell you. I have had so much to do today—”
Georgie’s hand on his arm made him turn.
“I want to speak to you—alone,” Georgie said soberly.
“Please let me go—I can help you a lot!” Loto recovered from his surprise, hesitated, then shook his head.
“No. You see—well, I might never come back. And if I don’t, if I’m not coming in ten years—twenty years—you’ll know it a month from now. Father has a paper from me which will explain all that.”
“Why shouldn’t I go along with you—”
“No. Father will want to follow me, and I’m counting on you to join him.”
Georgie was somewhat mollified. “Oh! Sure, I’ll do that.”
“But not a word now?”
“No. But, say, Loto, don’t bother to come back, will you? Give us a chance to come on after you.”
Loto laughed. “All right. Maybe I won’t come back. I’ll count on you, anyway.” They shook hands solemnly.
“You bet,” Georgie agreed. “And give my regards to Azeela. You didn’t say you mentioned me to her.”
“I didn’t. I was pretty busy. But I will.”
“Right. Do that. Good luck, old man!” Within five minutes more Loto was again in the plane, with its cabin door closed upon him. Again that queer, insistent humming. The plane glowed phosphorescent—seemingly brighter now, for the lights of the enclosure had been extinguished. Then that translucency of the solid cabin walls and the huge, spreading wings; a fleeting instant when they seemed vapory—a shimmering mist dissolving into nothingness.
CHAPTER IV
THE HOUSE IN THE JUNGLE
AN EVENING in September. Loto had been gone a month. Almost constantly some one of his four friends, or his father or mother, had been about the rooftop. But the Frazia plane had not appeared; the board inclosure where it had rested was empty.
The fear in Lylda’s eyes had grown daily almost into terror. But she had not spoken of it, and her husband’s consoling, hopeful words—couched sometimes in the seemingly cold, logical phrases of science—she had received with a brave, pathetic smile.
