Astounding Stories of Super-Science 3

Astounding Stories of Super-Science 3

"I suppose this is some sort of big hole on the site of the south pole,

with warm vapors coming up. Maybe a great fissure in the earth, or

something."

 

* * * * *

 

Jimmy Dodd's grin, seen in the half-light, was rather disconcerting.

"How far do you think we dropped just now?" Dodd asked.

 

"Why, I'd say several hundred yards," replied Tommy. "What's your

estimate?"

 

"Just about ten miles," answered Dodd.

 

"What? You're still crazy! Why, we slowed up!"

 

"Yeah," grinned Dodd, "we slowed up. We're inside the crust of the

world. That's the long and short of it. The earth we've known is just a

shell over our heads."

 

"Yeah? Walking head downward, are we? Then why don't we drop to the

center of the earth, you damn fool?"

 

"Because, my dear fellow, you can swing a pailful of water round your

head without spilling any of it. In other words, our old friend,

centrifugal force. The speed with which the earth is rotating, keeps us

on our feet, head downward. To be precise, the center of the earth's

gravity lies in the middle of the hollow sphere, of course, but the

counteraction of centrifugal force throws it outward to the middle of

the ten-mile crust. That's why we slowed down after we were half-way

through. We were moving against gravity."

 

"And what's up there, or down there, or whatever you call it?" asked

Tommy, pointing to what ought to have been the sky.

 

"Nothing. It's the center of the tennis ball, though I imagine it's

pretty near a vacuum when you get up a mile or so, owing to the speed of

the earth's rotation, which forces the heat into the shell."

 

"You mean to say you actually believe that stuff you've been handing

me?" asked Tommy, after a pause. "Then how did human beings get here,

and those damn beetles? And why's the grass red?"

 

* * * * *

 

"The grass is red because there's no sunlight to produce chlorophyll.

The inhabitants of the deep sea are red or black, almost invariably. In

the case of the humans, they've become bleached. My belief is that that

man and woman we saw, and those"--he pointed to the vague forms of human

beings, who moved across the grass, gathering something--"are survivors

of the primitive race that still exists as the Australians. Undoubtedly

one of the branches of the human stock originated in antarctica at a

time when it enjoyed a tropical temperature, and was the land bridge

between Australia and South America."

 

"And the--beetles?" asked Tommy.

 

"Ah, they go back to the days when nature was in a more grandiose

mood!" replied the archaeologist enthusiastically. "That's the most

wonderful discovery of the ages. The world will go crazy over them when

we bring back the first living specimens to the zoological parks of the

great cities.

 

"But," Dodd went on, speaking with still more enthusiasm, "of course,

this is only the beginning, Tommy. There are ten million species of

insects, according to Riley, and it is inevitable that there must be

hundreds of thousands of other survivals from the age of the great

saurians, perhaps even some of the saurians themselves. Who knows but

that we may discover the ancestor of the extinct monotremes, the

rhynchocephalia, the pterodactyls, hatch a brood of aepyornis eggs--"

 

"And," said Tommy tartly, "how are we going to get them back, apart from

the little problem of getting out of here ourselves?"

 

"Don't let's worry about that now," answered Dodd. "It will take ten

years of the hardest kind of labor even to begin a classification of the

inhabitants of this inner world. I could sit down for ever, and--"

 

But Jimmy Dodd rose to his feet as a pair of antenna whipped round his

neck and jerked him bodily upward.

 

* * * * *

 

One of the monster beetles was standing upright behind them, and by its

gestures it evidently meant that Dodd and Tommy were to join the crowd

of humans in the offing. As Dodd turned upon it with an indignant show

of fists, one of the antennae whipped off his fur coat and stung him

painfully with the bristle-like attachment at the end.

 

It was a painful moment when Dodd and Tommy realized that they were

powerless against the monstrous beetles. Tommy tried the uppercut with

which he had knocked out the deceased monster, but the quick jerks of

the present beetle's head were infinitely faster than the movements of

his fists, while the antenna had a whiplike quality about them that

speedily convinced him that discretion was the card to play.

 

Under the threat of the curling antenna, Tommy and Dodd moved in the

direction of the slowly circulating humans. Numerous tiny rodents, which

evidently kept the red grass short, scampered away under their feet. The

beetles made no further effort to force them on, but now they could see

that a number of the monsters were stationed at intervals around a wide

circle, keeping the humans in a single body.

 

"Good Lord!" ejaculated Tommy, stopping. "See what they're doing, Dodd?

They're herding us, like cowboys herd steers. Look at that!"

 

* * * * *

 

One of the herd, a male with a long beard, suddenly broke from the herd,

bawling, and flung himself upon a beetle guard. The antenna shot forth,

coiled around his neck, and hurled him a dozen feet to the ground, where

he lay stunned for a moment before arising and rejoining his companions.

 

"But what are they looking for?" demanded Dodd.

 

Tommy had not heard him. He had stopped in front of one of the luminous

trees and was plucking a fruit from it.

 

"Jimmy, ever see an apple before?" he asked. "If this isn't an apple,

I'll eat my head."

 

It certainly was an apple, and one of the largest and juiciest that

Tommy had ever tasted. It was the reddest apple he had ever seen, and

would have won the first prize at any agricultural fair.

 

"And look at this!" shouted Tommy, plucking an enormous luminous peach

from another tree.

 

They began munching slowly, then, seeing one of the beetle guards

approaching them, they moved into the midst of the crowd.

 

"Did you notice anything strange about those fruit trees?" inquired

Dodd, as he munched. "I'll swear they were monocotyledonous, which,

after all, is what one would expect. Still, to think that the

monocotyledons evolved the familiar drupes, or stone fruits, on a

parallel line to the dicotyledons is--amazing!"

 

A box on the ear like the kick of a mule's hoof jerked the last word

from his lips as he went sprawling. He got up, to see the girl standing

before him, intense disgust and anger on her face.

 

She snatched the fruits from the hands of the two Americans and hurled

them away. It was evident from her manner that she considered such diet

in the highest degree unclean and disgusting; also that she considered

herself charged with the duty of superintending Tommy's and Dodd's

education, but especially Dodd's.

 

* * * * *

 

Taking him by the arm, she propelled him into the midst of the groping

humans. She released him, stooped, and suddenly stood up, a shrimp about

eighteen inches long in her hand.

 

Towering over Dodd by six inches, she took his face in her hands and

began caressing him; then, seizing his jaws in her strong fingers, she

pried them apart, and popped the tail end of the shrimp into his mouth.

 

Dodd let out a yelp, and spat out the love-gift, to be rewarded with

another box on the ear by the young Amazon, while Tommy stood by,

convulsed with laughter, and yet in considerable trepidation, for fear

of being forced to share Dodd's fate.

 

For the girl was again holding out the tail end of the crustacean, and

Jim Dodd's jaws were slowly and reluctantly approaching it.

 

But suddenly there came an intervention as the strident rasping of

beetle legs was heard in the distance. Panic seized the human herd,

grovelling for shrimps in the sandy soil with its tufts of red grasses.

Milling in an uneasy mob, they cowered under the lashes of the antenna

of the beetle guards, which sacrificed their backs through their hair

garments whenever any of them tried to bolt.

 

Nearer and nearer came the beetles, louder and more penetrating the

shriek of their rasping legs. Now the swarm came into sight, rank after

rank of the shell-clad monsters, leaping fifteen feet at a bound with

perfect precision, until they had formed a solid phalanx all around the

humans.

 

* * * * *

 

Tommy heard sighs of despair, he heard muttering, and then he realized,

with deep thankfulness, that these human beings, degraded though they

were, had a speech of their own.

 

In the middle of the front line appeared a beetle a foot taller than the

rest. That it was either a king or queen was evident from the respect

paid it by the rest of the swarm. At its every movement a bodyguard of

beetles moved in unison, forming themselves in a group before it and on

either side.

 

There would have been something ludicrous about these movements, but for

the impression of horror that the swarm made upon Tommy and Jim Dodd.

Hitherto both had supposed that the hideous insects acted by blind

instinct, but now there could no longer be any doubt that they were

possessed of an organized intelligence.

 

* * * * *

 

The strident sounds grew louder. Already Tommy was beginning to discover

certain variations in them. It was dawning upon him that they formed a

language--and a perfectly intelligible one. For, as the note changed

about a half-semitone, two of the monsters left the side of their ruler

and reached the two men with three successive leaps.

 

Their movements left no doubt in either Tommy's or Dodd's mind what was

required. The two strode hastily toward the assemblage, and stopped as

the antenna of their guards came down in menacing fashion.

 

It was light enough for Tommy to see the face of the ruler of the

hellish swarm. And it required all his powers of will to keep from

collapsing from sheer horror at what he saw.

 

For, despite the close-fitting shell, the face of the beetle king was

the face of a man--a white man!

 

Jim Dodd's shriek rang out above the shrilling of the beetle-legs,

"Bram! It's you, it's you! My God, it's you, Bram!"

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER IV

 

_Bram's Story_

 

 

A sneering chuckle broke from Bram's lips. "Yes, it's me, James Dodd,"

he answered. "I'm a little surprised to see you here, Dodd, but I'm

mighty glad. Still insane upon the subject of fossil monotremes, I

suppose?"

 

The words came haltingly from Bram's lips, as from those of a man who

had lost the habit of easy speech. And Tommy, looking on, and trying to

keep in possession of his faculties, had already come to the conclusion

that the sounds were inaudible to the beetles. Probably their hearing

apparatus was not attuned to such slow vibrations of the human voice.

 

Also he had discovered that Bram was wearing the discarded shell of one

of the monsters: he had not grown the shell himself. It was fastened

about his body by a band of the hair-cloth, fastened to the two

protuberances of the elytra, or wing-cases, on either side of the dorsal

surface.

 

The discovery at least robbed the situation of one aspect of terror.

Bram, however he had obtained control of the swarm, was still only a

man.

 

"Yes, still insane," answered Dodd bitterly. "Insane enough to go on

believing that the polyprotodontia and the dasyuridae, which includes

the peramelidae, or bandicoots, and the banded ant-eaters, or

myrmecobidae, are not to be found in fossil form, for the excellent

reason that they were not represented before the Upper Cretaceous

period."

 

"You lie! You lie!" screamed Bram. "I have shown to all the world that

phascalotherium, amphitherium, amblotherium, spalacotherium, and many

other orders are to be found in the Upper Jurassic rocks of England,

Wyoming, and other places. You--you are the man who denied the existence

of the nototherium, of the marsupial lion, in pleistocene deposits! You

denied that the dasyuridae can be traced back beyond the pleistocene.

And you stand there and lie to me, when you are at my mercy!"

 

"For God's sake don't aggravate him," whispered Tommy to Dodd. "Don't

you see that he's insane? Humor him, or we'll be dead men. Think what

the world will lose, if you are never able to go back with your

specimens," he added craftily.

 

* * * * *

 

But Dodd, whose eyes were glaring, said a sublime thing: "I have given

my life to science, and I will never deny my master!"

 

With a screech, which, however, was evidently inaudible to the beetles,

Bram leaped at Dodd and seized him by the throat. The two men fell to

the ground, the ponderous beetle-shell completely covering them.

Underneath it they could be seen to be struggling desperately. All the

while the beetle horde remained perfectly motionless. Tommy thought

afterward that in this fact lay their brightest chances of escape, if

Bram's immediate vengeance did not fall on them.

 

Either because Bram was not himself a beetle, or because in some other

way the swarm instinct was not stirred, the monsters watched the

struggle with complete indifference.

 

At the moment, however, Tommy was only concerned with saving Dodd from

the madman. He got his foot beneath the shell, then inserted his leg;

using his whole body as a lever, he succeeded in turning Bram over on

his back.

 

Then, and only then, the swarm rushed in upon them. Then Tommy realized

that he had touched one of the triggers that regulated the beetle's

automatism. In another instant Bram would have been torn to pieces. The

needle-beaks were darting through the air, the hideous jaws were

snapping. Bram's yells rang through the cavern.

 

* * * * *

 

Dodging beneath the avalanche of the monsters, Tommy got Bram upon his

feet again. The beetles stopped, every movement arrested. Bram's hand

went to the pocket of his tattered coat, there came a snap, a flash.

Bram had ignited an automatic cigarette-lighter!

 

Instantly the monsters went scurrying away into the distance. And Tommy

had another clue. The beetles, living in the dimness of the underworld,

could not stand light or fire!

 

He ran to where Jimmy was lying, face upward, on the ground. His face

was badly scarred by Bram's nails, and the blood was spurting from a

long gash in his throat, made by the sharp flint that was lying beside

him.

 

He had some time before discarded his fur coat. Now he pulled off his

coat, and, tearing off the tail of his shirt, he made a pad and a

bandage, with which he attempted to staunch the blood and bind the

wound. It must have taken ten minutes before the failing heart force

enabled him to get the bleeding under control. Dodd had nearly bled to

death, his face was drawn and waxen, but, because the pulsation was so

feeble, the artery had ceased to spurt.

 

Then only did Tommy take notice of Bram. He had been squatting near, and

Tommy realized that he had unconsciously observed Bram put some sort of

pellets into his mouth. Now he realized that Bram was a drug fiend. That

was what had made him walk out of the Greystoke camp in the storm.

 

Bram got up and came toward them. "Is he dead?" he whispered hoarsely.

"I--I lost my temper. You two--I don't intend to kill you.

There--there's room for the three of us. I've got--plans of the utmost

importance to humanity."

 

"I don't think much of the way you've started to carry them out,"

answered Tommy bitterly. "No, he's not dead yet, but I wouldn't give

much for his chances, even in the best hospital. The best thing you can

do now is to go to hell, and take your beetles with you," he added.

 

* * * * *

 

Bram, without replying, raised his head and emitted from his throat the

shrillest whistle that Tommy had ever heard. The response was amazing.

 

Rasping out of the darkness came eight beetles in pairs. Instead of

leaping from an upright position, they trotted in the manner of horses,

on all fours, their shells, which touched at the edges, forming a solid

surface, gently rounded in the center so that a man's body could lie

there and fit snugly into the groove.

 

"Help me get him up," said Bram. "Trust me! I'll do my best for him. If

we leave him here they may kill and eat him. I can't trust all those

beetle guards."

 

Tommy hesitated a moment, then decided to follow Bram's suggestion.

Together they raised the unconscious man to the beetle-shell couch. Bram

seated himself upon the boss of one of the beetle-shells in front, and

Tommy jumped up behind.

 

Next moment, to his amazement, the trained steeds were flying smoothly

through the air, at a rate that could not have been less than

seventy-five to eighty miles an hour.

 

Tommy's shell seat was not a bed of roses, but he hardly noticed that.

He was thinking that if Dodd lived they should be able to turn the

tables.

 

For, unknown to Bram, he was in possession of the cigarette-lighter

which he had picked up, and which Bram, in his agitation, had

forgotten. It was full of petrol, or some other fluid of a similar

nature, which Bram must have obtained from some natural source within

the earth. And, in an emergency, Tommy knew that he had the means of

keeping the beetles at bay.

 

* * * * *

 

They had traveled for perhaps an hour when a faint light began to glow

in the distance. It grew brighter, and a roaring sound became audible. A

turn of the track that they were traversing, and the light became a

glare. A terrific sight met Tommy's eyes.

 

Out of the bowels of the earth--actually out of the crust beneath their

feet--there shot a pillar of roaring flame, of intense white color, and

radiating a heat that was perceptible even at a distance of several

hundred yards. The beetle steeds dropped gently to the ground; they

halted. Bram got down, grinning.

 

"Nicely trained horses, what?" he asked. "By the way, you have the

advantage of me in names. Who and what are you?"

 

Tommy told him.

 

"Well, Travers, it looks as if we're going to be companions for some

time to come, and I quite admit you saved my life back there. So we

don't want to start with secrets. This is a natural petrol spring, which

has probably been burning undiminished for ages. My trained beetles are

blind--you didn't happen to notice I'd cut off their antenna? But the

rest of the swarm daren't come near it. So that makes me their master.

 

"Pretty trick, what, Travers? I'm the Lord of the Flame down here, and

I'm using my advantage. But don't get the idea of supplanting me. There

are lots of other tricks you don't know anything about, and I'll have to

trust you better before--"

 

He broke off and slipped another pellet into his mouth.

 

"Help me get Dodd down, if this is our destination," answered Tommy.

 

They lifted Dodd to the ground. He was conscious now, and moaning for

water. The two men carried him into a sort of large cavern, at the

farther end of which the fire was roaring. Bram went to a spring that

trickled down one side, filled something that looked like a petrified lily calyx, and brought it to Dodd, who drained it.