The Moon Pool Read online

  CHAPTER XVI

  Yolara of Muria vs. the O'Keefe

  I awakened with all the familiar, homely sensation of a shade havingbeen pulled up in a darkened room. I thrilled with a wonderful senseof deep rest and restored resiliency. The ebon shadow had vanishedfrom above and down into the room was pouring the silvery light. Fromthe fountain pool came a mighty splashing and shouts of laughter. Ijumped and drew the curtain. O'Keefe and Rador were swimming a wildrace; the dwarf like an otter, out-distancing and playing around theIrishman at will.

  Had that overpowering sleep--and now I confess that my struggleagainst it had been largely inspired by fear that it was the abnormalslumber which Throckmartin had described as having heralded theapproach of the Dweller before it had carried away Thora andStanton--had that sleep been after all nothing but natural reaction oftired nerves and brains?

  And that last vision of the golden-eyed girl bending over Larry? Hadthat also been a delusion of an overstressed mind? Well, it might havebeen, I could not tell. At any rate, I decided, I would speak about itto O'Keefe once we were alone again--and then giving myself up to theurge of buoyant well-being I shouted like a boy, stripped and joinedthe two in the pool. The water was warm and I felt the unwontedtingling of life in every vein increase; something from it seemed topulse through the skin, carrying a clean vigorous vitality that tonedevery fibre. Tiring at last, we swam to the edge and drew ourselvesout. The green dwarf quickly clothed himself and Larry rathercarefully donned his uniform.

  "The Afyo Maie has summoned us, Doc," he said. "We're to--well--Isuppose you'd call it breakfast with her. After that, Rador tells me,we're to have a session with the Council of Nine. I suppose Yolara isas curious as any lady of--the upper world, as you might put it--andjust naturally can't wait," he added.

  He gave himself a last shake, patted the automatic hidden under hisleft arm, whistled cheerfully.

  "After you, my dear Alphonse," he said to Rador, with a low bow. Thedwarf laughed, bent in an absurd imitation of Larry's mocking courtesyand started ahead of us to the house of the priestess. When he hadgone a little way on the orchid-walled path I whispered to O'Keefe:

  "Larry, when you were falling off to sleep--did you think you sawanything?"

  "See anything!" he grinned. "Doc, sleep hit me like a Hun shell. Ithought they were pulling the gas on us. I--I had some intention ofbidding you tender farewells," he continued, half sheepishly. "I thinkI did start 'em, didn't I?"

  I nodded.

  "But wait a minute--" he hesitated. "I had a queer sort of dream--"

  "'What was it?" I asked eagerly,

  "Well," he answered slowly, "I suppose it was because I'd beenthinking of--Golden Eyes. Anyway, I thought she came through the walland leaned over me--yes, and put one of those long white hands of herson my head--I couldn't raise my lids--but in some queer way I couldsee her. Then it got real dreamish. Why do you ask?"

  Rador turned back toward us,

  "Later," I answered, "Not now. When we're alone."

  But through me went a little glow of reassurance. Whatever the mazethrough which we were moving; whatever of menacing evil lurkingthere--the Golden Girl was clearly watching over us; watching withwhatever unknown powers she could muster.

  We passed the pillared entrance; went through a long bowered corridorand stopped before a door that seemed to be sliced from a monolith ofpale jade--high, narrow, set in a wall of opal.

  Rador stamped twice and the same supernally sweet, silver bell tonesof--yesterday, I must call it, although in that place of eternal daythe term is meaningless--bade us enter. The door slipped aside. Thechamber was small, the opal walls screening it on three sides, theblack opacity covering it, the fourth side opening out into adelicious little walled garden--a mass of the fragrant, luminousblooms and delicately colored fruit. Facing it was a small table ofreddish wood and from the omnipresent cushions heaped around it aroseto greet us--Yolara.

  Larry drew in his breath with an involuntary gasp of admiration andbowed low. My own admiration was as frank--and the priestess was wellpleased with our homage.

  She was swathed in the filmy, half-revelant webs, now of palest blue.The corn-silk hair was caught within a wide-meshed golden net in whichsparkled tiny brilliants, like blended sapphires and diamonds. Her ownazure eyes sparkled as brightly as they, and I noted again in theirclear depths the half-eager approval as they rested upon O'Keefe'slithe, well-knit figure and his keen, clean-cut face. The high-arched,slender feet rested upon soft sandals whose gauzy withes laced theexquisitely formed leg to just below the dimpled knee.

  "Some giddy wonder!" exclaimed Larry, looking at me and placing a handover his heart. "Put her on a New York roof and she'd empty Broadway.Take the cue from me, Doc."

  He turned to Yolara, whose face was somewhat puzzled.

  "I said, O lady whose shining hair is a web for hearts, that in ourworld your beauty would dazzle the sight of men as would a littlewoman sun!" he said, in the florid imagery to which the tongue lendsitself so well.

  A flush stole up through the translucent skin. The blue eyes softenedand she waved us toward the cushions. Black-haired maids stole in,placing before us the fruits, the little loaves and a steaming drinksomewhat the colour and odor of chocolate. I was conscious ofoutrageous hunger.

  "What are you named, strangers?" she asked.

  "This man is named Goodwin," said O'Keefe. "As for me, call meLarry."

  "Nothing like getting acquainted quick," he said to me--but kept hiseyes upon Yolara as though he were voicing another honeyed phrase. Andso she took it, for: "You must teach me your tongue," she murmured.

  "Then shall I have two words where now I have one to tell you of yourloveliness," he answered.

  "And also that'll take time," he spoke to me. "Essential occupationout of which we can't be drafted to make these fun-loving folk anyRoman holiday. Get me!"

  "Larree," mused Yolara. "I like the sound. It is sweet--" and indeedit was as she spoke it.

  "And what is your land named, Larree?" she continued. "And Goodwin's?"She caught the sound perfectly.

  "My land, O lady of loveliness, is two--Ireland and America; his butone--America."

  She repeated the two names--slowly, over and over. We seized theopportunity to attack the food; halting half guiltily as she spokeagain.

  "Oh, but you are hungry!" she cried. "Eat then." She leaned her chinupon her hands and regarded us, whole fountains of questions brimmingup in her eyes.

  "How is it, Larree, that you have two countries and Goodwin but one?"she asked, at last unable to keep silent longer.

  "I was born in Ireland; he in America. But I have dwelt long in hisland and my heart loves each," he said.

  She nodded, understandingly.

  "Are all the men of Ireland like you, Larree? As all the men here arelike Lugur or Rador? I like to look at you," she went on, with naivefrankness. "I am tired of men like Lugur and Rador. But they arestrong," she added, swiftly. "Lugur can hold up ten in his two armsand raise six with but one hand."

  We could not understand her numerals and she raised white fingers toillustrate.

  "That is little, O lady, to the men of Ireland," replied O'Keefe."Lo, I have seen one of my race hold up ten times ten of our--whatcall you that swift thing in which Rador brought us here?"

  "Corial," said she.

  "Hold up ten times twenty of our corials with but two fingers--andthese corials of ours--"

  "Coria," said she.

  "And these coria of ours are each greater in weight than ten of yours.Yes, and I have seen another with but one blow of his hand raise hell!

  "And so I have," he murmured to me. "And both at Forty-second andFifth Avenue, N. Y.--U. S. A."

  Yolara considered all this with manifest doubt.

  "Hell?" she inquired at last. "I know not the word."

  "Well," answered O'Keefe. "Say Muria then. In many ways they are, Igather, O heart's delight, one and the same."

  Now the
doubt in the blue eyes was strong indeed. She shook her head.

  "None of our men can do _that_!" she answered, at length. "Nor do Ithink you could, Larree."

  "Oh, no," said Larry easily. "I never tried to be that strong. Ifly," he added, casually.

  The priestess rose to her feet, gazing at him with startled eyes.

  "Fly!" she repeated incredulously. "Like a _Zitia_? A bird?"

  Larry nodded--and then seeing the dawning command in her eyes, went onhastily.

  "Not with my own wings, Yolara. In a--a corial that movesthrough--what's the word for air, Doc--well, through this--" He made awide gesture up toward the nebulous haze above us. He took a penciland on a white cloth made a hasty sketch of an airplane. "In a--acorial like this--" She regarded the sketch gravely, thrust a handdown into her girdle and brought forth a keen-bladed poniard; cutLarry's markings out and placed the fragment carefully aside.

  "That I can understand," she said.

  "Remarkably intelligent young woman," muttered O'Keefe. "Hope I'm notgiving anything away--but she had me."

  "But what are your women like, Larree? Are they like me? And howmany have loved you?" she whispered.

  "In all Ireland and America there is none like you, Yolara," heanswered. "And take that any way you please," he muttered in English.She took it, it was evident, as it most pleased her.

  "Do you have goddesses?" she asked.

  "Every woman in Ireland and America, is a goddess"; thus Larry.

  "Now that I do not believe." There was both anger and mockery in hereyes. "I know women, Larree--and if that were so there would be nopeace for men."

  "There isn't!" replied he. The anger died out and she laughed,sweetly, understandingly.

  "And which goddess do you worship, Larree?"

  "You!" said Larry O'Keefe boldly.

  "Larry! Larry!" I whispered. "Be careful. It's high explosive."

  But the priestess was laughing--little trills of sweet bell notes; andpleasure was in each note.

  "You are indeed bold, Larree," she said, "to offer me your worship.Yet am I pleased by your boldness. Still--Lugur is strong; and you arenot of those who--what did you say--have tried. And your wings arenot here--Larree!"

  Again her laughter rang out. The Irishman flushed; it was _touche_for Yolara!

  "Fear not for me with Lugur," he said, grimly. "Rather fear for him!"

  The laughter died; she looked at him searchingly; a little enigmaticsmile about her mouth--so sweet and so cruel.

  "Well--we shall see," she murmured. "You say you battle in yourworld. With what?"

  "Oh, with this and with that," answered Larry, airily. "We manage--"

  "Have you the Keth--I mean that with which I sent Songar into thenothingness?" she asked swiftly.

  "See what she's driving at?" O'Keefe spoke to me, swiftly. "Well I do!But here's where the O'Keefe lands.

  "I said," he turned to her, "O voice of silver fire, that your spiritis high even as your beauty--and searches out men's souls as does yourloveliness their hearts. And now listen, Yolara, for what I speak istruth"--into his eyes came the far-away gaze; into his voice the Irishsoftness--"Lo, in my land of Ireland, this many of your life's lengthagone--see"--he raised his ten fingers, clenched and unclenched themtimes twenty--"the mighty men of my race, the Taitha-da-Dainn, couldsend men out into the nothingness even as do you with the Keth. Andthis they did by their harpings, and by words spoken--words of power,O Yolara, that have their power still--and by pipings and by slayingsounds.

  "There was Cravetheen who played swift flames from his harp, flyingflames that ate those they were sent against. And there was Dalua, ofHy Brasil, whose pipes played away from man and beast and all livingthings their shadows--and at last played them to shadows too, so thatwherever Dalua went his shadows that had been men and beast followedlike a storm of little rustling leaves; yea, and Bel the Harper, whocould make women's hearts run like wax and men's hearts flame to ashesand whose harpings could shatter strong cliffs and bow great trees tothe sod--"

  His eyes were bright, dream-filled; she shrank a little from him,faint pallor under the perfect skin.

  "I say to you, Yolara, that these things were and are--in Ireland."His voice rang strong. "And I have seen men as many as those that arein your great chamber this many times over"--he clenched his handsonce more, perhaps a dozen times--"blasted into nothingness beforeyour Keth could even have touched them. Yea--and rocks as mighty asthose through which we came lifted up and shattered before the lidscould fall over your blue eyes. And this is truth, Yolara--all truth!Stay--have you that little cone of the Keth with which you destroyedSongar?"

  She nodded, gazing at him, fascinated, fear and puzzlement contending.

  "Then use it." He took a vase of crystal from the table, placed it onthe threshold that led into the garden. "Use it on this--and I willshow you."

  "I will use it upon one of the ladala--" she began eagerly.

  The exaltation dropped from him; there was a touch of horror in theeyes he turned to her; her own dropped before it.

  "It shall be as you say," she said hurriedly. She drew the shiningcone from her breast; levelled it at the vase. The green ray leapedforth, spread over the crystal, but before its action could even bebegun, a flash of light shot from O'Keefe's hand, his automatic spatand the trembling vase flew into fragments. As quickly as he had drawnit, he thrust the pistol back into place and stood there empty handed,looking at her sternly. From the anteroom came shouting, a rush offeet.

  Yolara's face was white, her eyes strained--but her voice was unshakenas she called to the clamouring guards:

  "It is nothing--go to your places!"

  But when the sound of their return had ceased she stared tensely atthe Irishman--then looked again at the shattered vase.

  "It is true!" she cried, "but see, the Keth is--alive!"

  I followed her pointing finger. Each broken bit of the crystal wasvibrating, shaking its particles out into space. Broken it the bulletof Larry's had--but not released it from the grip of thedisintegrating force. The priestess's face was triumphant.

  "But what matters it, O shining urn of beauty--what matters it to thevase that is broken what happens to its fragments?" asked Larry,gravely--and pointedly.

  The triumph died from her face and for a space she was silent;brooding.

  "Next," whispered O'Keefe to me. "Lots of surprises in the littlebox; keep your eye on the opening and see what comes out."

  We had not long to wait. There was a sparkle of anger about Yolara,something too of injured pride. She clapped her hands; whispered tothe maid who answered her summons, and then sat back regarding us,maliciously.

  "You have answered me as to your strength--but you have not proved it;but the Keth you have answered. Now answer this!" she said.

  She pointed out into the garden. I saw a flowering branch bend andsnap as though a hand had broken it--but no hand was there! Saw thenanother and another bend and break, a little tree sway and fall--andcloser and closer to us came the trail of snapping boughs while downinto the garden poured the silvery light revealing--nothing! Now agreat ewer beside a pillar rose swiftly in air and hurled itselfcrashing at my feet. Cushions close to us swirled about as though inthe vortex of a whirlwind.

  And unseen hands held my arms in a mighty clutch fast to my sides,another gripped my throat and I felt a needle-sharp poniard pointpierce my shirt, touch the skin just over my heart!

  "Larry!" I cried, despairingly. I twisted my head; saw that he toowas caught in this grip of the invisible. But his face was calm, evenamused.

  "Keep cool, Doc!" he said. "Remember--she wants to learn thelanguage!"

  Now from Yolara burst chime upon chime of mocking laughter. She gavea command--the hands loosened, the poniard withdrew from my heart;suddenly as I had been caught I was free--and unpleasantly weak andshaky.

  "Have you _that_ in Ireland, Larree!" cried the priestess--and oncemore trembled with laughter.

&nb
sp; "A good play, Yolara." His voice was as calm as his face. "But theydid that in Ireland even before Dalua piped away his first man'sshadow. And in Goodwin's land they make ships--coria that go onwater--so you can pass by them and see only sea and sky; and thosewater coria are each of them many times greater than this whole palaceof yours."

  But the priestess laughed on.

  "It did get me a little," whispered Larry. "That wasn't quite up tomy mark. But God! If we could find that trick out and take it backwith us!"

  "Not so, Larree!" Yolara gasped, through her laughter. "Not so!Goodwin's cry betrayed you!"

  Her good humour had entirely returned; she was like a mischievouschild pleased over some successful trick; and like a child shecried--"I'll show you!"--signalled again; whispered to the maid who,quickly returning, laid before her a long metal case. Yolara took fromher girdle something that looked like a small pencil, pressed it andshot a thin stream of light for all the world like an electric flash,upon its hasp. The lid flew open. Out of it she drew three flat, ovalcrystals, faint rose in hue. She handed one to O'Keefe and one to me.

  "Look!" she commanded, placing the third before her own eyes. Ipeered through the stone and instantly there leaped into sight, out ofthin air--six grinning dwarfs! Each was covered from top of head tosoles of feet in a web so tenuous that through it their bodies wereplain. The gauzy stuff seemed to vibrate--its strands to run togetherlike quick-silver. I snatched the crystal from my eyes and--thechamber was empty! Put it back--and there were the grinning six!

  Yolara gave another sign and they disappeared, even from the crystals.

  "It is what they wear, Larree," explained Yolara, graciously. "It issomething that came to us from--the Ancient Ones. But we have sofew"--she sighed.

  "Such treasures must be two-edged swords, Yolara," commented O'Keefe."For how know you that one within them creeps not to you with handeager to strike?"

  "There is no danger," she said indifferently. "I am the keeper ofthem."

  She mused for a space, then abruptly:

  "And now no more. You two are to appear before the Council at acertain time--but fear nothing. You, Goodwin, go with Rador about ourcity and increase your wisdom. But you, Larree, await me here in mygarden--" she smiled at him, provocatively--maliciously, too. "Forshall not one who has resisted a world of goddesses be given allchance to worship when at last he finds his own?"

  She laughed--whole-heartedly and was gone. And at that moment I likedYolara better than ever I had before and--alas--better than ever Iwas to in the future.

  I noted Rador standing outside the open jade door and started to go,but O'Keefe caught me by the arm.

  "Wait a minute," he urged. "About Golden Eyes--you were going to tellme something--it's been on my mind all through that little sparringmatch."

  I told him of the vision that had passed through my closing lids. Helistened gravely and then laughed.

  "Hell of a lot of privacy in this place!" he grinned. "Ladies who canwalk through walls and others with regular invisible cloaks to let 'emflit wherever they please. Oh, well, don't let it get on your nerves,Doc. Remember--everything's natural! That robe stuff is justcamouflage of course. But Lord, if we could only get a piece of it!"

  "The material simply admits all light-vibrations, or perhaps curvesthem, just as the opacities cut them off," I answered. "A man underthe X-ray is partly invisible; this makes him wholly so. He doesn'tregister, as the people of the motion-picture profession say."

  "Camouflage," repeated Larry. "And as for the Shining One--Say!" hesnorted. "I'd like to set the O'Keefe banshee up against it. I'll betthat old resourceful Irish body would give it the first three bitesand a strangle hold and wallop it before it knew it had 'em. Oh! Wow!Boy Howdy!"

  I heard him still chuckling gleefully over this vision as I passedalong the opal wall with the green dwarf.

  A shell was awaiting us. I paused before entering it to examine thepolished surface of runway and great road. It was obsidian--volcanicglass of pale emerald, unflawed, translucent, with no sign of block orjuncture. I examined the shell.

  "What makes it go?" I asked Rador. At a word from him the drivertouched a concealed spring and an aperture appeared beneath thecontrol-lever, of which I have spoken in a preceding chapter. Withinwas a small cube of black crystal, through whose sides I saw, dimly, arapidly revolving, glowing ball, not more than two inches in diameter.Beneath the cube was a curiously shaped, slender cylinder winding downinto the lower body of the Nautilus whorl.

  "Watch!" said Rador. He motioned me into the vehicle and took a placebeside me. The driver touched the lever; a stream of coruscations flewfrom the ball down into the cylinder. The shell started smoothly, andas the tiny torrent of shining particles increased it gathered speed.

  "The corial does not touch the road," explained Rador. "It is liftedso far"--he held his forefinger and thumb less than a sixteenth of aninch apart--"above it."

  And perhaps here is the best place to explain the activation of theshells or coria. The force utilized was atomic energy. Passing fromthe whirling ball the ions darted through the cylinder to two bands ofa peculiar metal affixed to the base of the vehicles somewhat likeskids of a sled. Impinging upon these they produced a partial negationof gravity, lifting the shell slightly, and at the same time creatinga powerful repulsive force or thrust that could be directed backward,forward, or sidewise at the will of the driver. The creation of thisenergy and the mechanism of its utilization were, briefly, as follows:

  [Dr. Goodwin's lucid and exceedingly comprehensive description of thisextraordinary mechanism has been deleted by the Executive Council ofthe International Association of Science as too dangerously suggestiveto scientists of the Central European Powers with which we were sorecently at war. It is allowable, however, to state that hisobservations are in the possession of experts in this country, whoare, unfortunately, hampered in their research not only by thescarcity of the radioactive elements that we know, but also by thelack of the element or elements unknown to us that entered into theformation of the fiery ball within the cube of black crystal.Nevertheless, as the principle is so clear, it is believed that thesedifficulties will ultimately be overcome.--J. B. K., President, I. A.of S.]

  The wide, glistening road was gay with the coria. They darted in andout of the gardens; within them the fair-haired, extraordinarilybeautiful women on their cushions were like princesses of Elfland,caught in gorgeous fairy webs, resting within the hearts of flowers.In some shells were flaxen-haired dwarfish men of Lugur's type;sometimes black-polled brother officers of Rador; often raven-tressedgirls, plainly hand-maidens of the women; and now and then beauties ofthe lower folk went by with one of the blond dwarfs.

  We swept around the turn that made of the jewel-like roadway anenormous horseshoe and, speedily, upon our right the cliffs throughwhich we had come in our journey from the Moon Pool began to marchforward beneath their mantles of moss. They formed a giganticabutment, a titanic salient. It had been from the very front of thissalient's invading angle that we had emerged; on each side of it theprecipices, faintly glowing, drew back and vanished into distance.

  The slender, graceful bridges under which we skimmed ended at openingsin the upflung, far walls of verdure. Each had its little garrison ofsoldiers. Through some of the openings a rivulet of the green obsidianriver passed. These were roadways to the farther country, to the landof the ladala, Rador told me; adding that none of the lesser folkcould cross into the pavilioned city unless summoned or with pass.

  We turned the bend of the road and flew down that farther emeraldribbon we had seen from the great oval. Before us rose the shiningcliffs and the lake. A half-mile, perhaps, from these the last of thebridges flung itself. It was more massive and about it hovered aspirit of ancientness lacking in the other spans; also its garrisonwas larger and at its base the tangent way was guarded by two massivestructures, somewhat like blockhouses, between which it ran. Somethingabout it aroused in me an intense curiosity.

>   "Where does that road lead, Rador?" I asked.

  "To the one place above all of which I may not tell you, Goodwin," heanswered. And again I wondered.

  We skimmed slowly out upon the great pier. Far to the left was theprismatic, rainbow curtain between the Cyclopean pillars. On the whitewaters graceful shells--lacustrian replicas of the Elf chariots--swam,but none was near that distant web of wonder.

  "Rador--what is that?" I asked.

  "It is the Veil of the Shining One!" he answered slowly.

  Was the Shining One that which we named the Dweller?

  "What is the Shining One?" I cried, eagerly. Again he was silent.Nor did he speak until we had turned on our homeward way.

  And lively as my interest, my scientific curiosity, were--I wasconscious suddenly of acute depression. Beautiful, wondrouslybeautiful this place was--and yet in its wonder dwelt a keen edge ofmenace, of unease--of inexplicable, inhuman woe; as though in a secretgarden of God a soul should sense upon it the gaze of some lurkingspirit of evil which some way, somehow, had crept into the sanctuaryand only bided its time to spring.