The Creature from Beyond Infinity Read online

  With a grin and quick movement, Scipio clutched the weapon and whipped it out. Before the startled guards could move, he ran forward into the hot sands of the arena. The soles of his feet burned, then cooled as he halted in a patch of reddened sand.

  The blazing African sun flooded down in blinding whiteness. Scipio had only a vague impression of the crowd that filled the circus. He could pick out no individuals. He felt as though one vast entity, surging, whispering, watching, surrounded him, and the head of the entity was the canopied box of the Lord of Carthage.

  Scipio shifted his grip on the sword. He brushed the curly hair from his eyes with one hand, and stood warily on the balls of his feet. A musth elephant, eh? Well, no man could resist such an enemy, yet a man could die fighting.

  "Alas for my dreams of empire," the Carthaginian murmured, with a crookedly sardonic smile. "Faith, I might have ruled the world, given time. And now I must water the sand with my blood."

  He turned to the Imperial box, lifting his hand in salute. The emperor nodded, expecting to hear the usual, "We who are about to die—" of the gladiators.

  Scipio disappointed his host. At the top of his voice he howled the words that would most enrage the onlookers.

  "Carthage must be destroyed!"

  A wave of fury, a gasp of astonishment and rage, rippled around the arena. The emperor make a quick, angry gesture. Grinning, Scipio turned to see a barred gate far across the sanded arena rise slowly.

  For a few heartbeats there was silence throughout the circus. The blinding white heat was oppressive. Steam curled up from the blood-stains on the sands.

  Then the musth elephant pounded to the gate. Huge, monstrous, a gray, walking vastness of animated dull savagery, he lurched through the gate and stood motionless, only his bloodshot little eyes alive with hatred. The trunk did not move, save for the tip, which swayed back and forth slightly.

  A shadow darkened the arena as a cloud crossed the Sun, and then was gone.

  Scipio hefted the sword he held. It was a short-bladed weapon, useless unless he could hurl it like a javelin. It was even too broad to pierce an elephant's eye, the most vulnerable spot of the monster. Briefly Scipio thought of slicing off the elephant's trunk as far up as he could reach. But that would still leave the tusks and mighty tree-trunk limbs that could squash a man into red pulp.

  "Well," Scipio said with grim amusement, "at least they had to use their biggest elephant to kill me."

  His gargoyle face twisted into a fearless grin. In the glaring tight, he resembled a teakwood statue, thewed like a colossus.

  The elephant came forward slowly, its red eyes questing viciously until it saw Scipio. It paused, and the trunk lifted, waving snakelike in the air. It snorted angrily.

  Again the shadow darkened the Sun, and this time it did not pass.

  The Carthaginian had no time to look up. He bent slightly from the knees, holding the sword high like a javelin.

  The elephant broke into a lumbering trot. Its speed increased. Like the Juggernaut, it bore down on him…

  Scipio had a flashing glimpse of the monster—flapping ears, murderously upheld trunk, gleaming tusks. The thunder of its approach was growing louder, booming in his ears. It loomed above him—

  From the skies sprang a thunderbolt! Flaming with pale brilliance, the crackling beam raved down. It caught the behemoth in mid-stride, bathed it in shining radiance. And the monster vanished!

  It was gone without a trace. The deep craters of its rush ended in the sand a few yards from where the shocked Scipio crouched. From the spectators rose a roar, terrified, unbelieving.

  A golden ball of enormous size plunged down into the arena. Lightly as a feather it grounded. A port in its hull sprang open.

  Scipio saw a thin, pallid man, with the ascetic face of a Caesar. He was clad in odd garments and was beckoning urgently. Beyond him, Scipio glimpsed a fat Chinese whose round cheeks were quivering with excitement.

  A spear flashed through the air, rang impotently against the golden hull. Almost paralyzed with amazement, Scipio ran forward, leaped into the ship. What this miracle might be, he did not know, but it seemed to provide a means of escape. Whether the pallid man was a god or a devil, at least he seemed friendly. More important, to remain in the arena meant death.

  The port slammed shut behind Scipio. He bounded through the inner lock and stood wide-legged, staring around. The sword was still gripped in his hand. Past him the pallid man strode, and entered an inner chamber. A quiver of movement shook the ship as it lifted. The Oriental waddled into view and beamed at Scipio.

  "Relax, friend," he said, lisping the unfamiliar tongue. "You speak Latin?"

  "Naturally," Scipio stated. "All the world does. Are you a god? I doubt it, for only Bacchus and Silenus are obese, and their skins are not yellow."

  The Oriental shook with laughter until he had to hold his heaving belly.

  "I have heard of this Bacchus. A new god, but he is a good one. Sit down." He waved toward a couch. "My name is Li Yang. Do you wish food?"

  Scipio shook his head and sat gingerly on the soft cushions.

  "You called me friend?" he asked.

  "I might better have called you comrade. Ardath saw the hidden possibilities in you, dragon-face. He read your mind while you slept. Ah, but you have dreams of empire, poor fool!"

  Li Yang shook his head, and his yellow cheeks swung pendulously.

  "Ill-luck dogs me," Scipio said lightly, grinning. "The gods hate me, so I wear no crown."

  "Nor will you. You are not ruthless enough. You could carve out an empire for yourself, but you could not sit upon a throne. Under all thrones the snake coils. You are too honest to be a kink, Scipio."

  The Carthaginian had been about to answer, but he paused. His dark eyes widened, and a flame sprang into them. Ponderously Li Yang turned.

  Two figures stood on the threshold. One was Thordred, but Scipio had no eyes for even that gigantic form. He was staring with a burning fixity at the Atlantean priestess.

  She looked lovely indeed. Her delicate figure was veiled by a girdled robe, from the hem of which her tiny toes peeped. Her golden hair hung loosely about her shoulders, and framed the elfin features that showed interested admiration.

  "Jove's thunderbolt!" Scipio gasped. "Nay, but this is a goddess! This is Venus herself!"

  Jansaiya preened herself. Under her lashes the sea-green eyes watched Scipio slumbrously. She basked in the frank, open gaze.

  "This is Scipio?" the priestess asked.

  She came forward and put a small, shapely hand on the Carthaginian's brawny arm. He looked down at her, his gargoyle face alight with wonder.

  "You know me? But who are you?"

  "Jansaiya." The girl glanced over her shoulder. "And this is Thordred."

  Scipio saw the giant for the first time, apparently. His gaze met and locked with Thordred's smoldering glare. The two men stood silent. Scipio did not notice when Jansaiya took her hand from his arm.

  Li Yang's red lips pursed as he glanced from one to the other.

  It was a sight worth seeing. Thordred was huge, elephant-thewed, hairy as a beast, with jutting beard and aquiline, handsome, features.

  Scipio, though slightly shorter, was almost as huge. His gargoyle face grew stone-hard. Thordred's cat's-eyes glittered. A silent enmity flamed in those glares that met without speech.

  Ardath broke the deadlock by coming out of the laboratory.

  "We are moving out toward our orbit," he said, smiling. "Soon it will be time to sleep again. Perhaps next time. ." He sighed. "Meanwhile, though Scipio is not the super-mentality I need, he is a genius in his way. Let me explain, warrior."

  Scipio nodded from time to time as Ardath told his story. The Carthaginian's quick brain grasped the situation without difficulty.

  "You will come with us?" Ardath asked at last.

  "Why not?" Scipio replied, shrugging. "The world is not ready for such a man as I. In later ages, countries will recognize my w
orth and kneel at my feet." The granite face cracked into a grin, and he glanced at Jansaiya. "Besides, I shall be in good company. To how many men is it given to know a goddess?"

  Thordred growled under his breath while Li Yang chuckled. The fat Oriental picked up his lute and strummed softly upon it. His voice raised mellowly.

  "My love has come down from the Moon-lantern. In the heart of the lotus she dwells…"

  "And now—" Ardath turned toward the laboratory. "I must adjust my controls. We shall automatically fall into our orbit. For two thousand years we shall sleep, and then revisit the Earth."

  He vanished into the next room.

  "Fragrant are her hands as petals," Li Yang sang. "In her hair the stars dance."

  Jansaiya smiled. Scipio grinned a silent, confident reply to Thordred's dark scowl.

  Humming power throbbed through the ship, swiftly grew louder. Li Yang clambered awkwardly on a couch, gesturing for Scipio to follow his example. Sleep poured from the monotonous sound. Idly Li Yang touched the strings of his lute.

  "Give me sweet dreams, dear goddess," he murmured.

  Jansaiya reclined on a couch. When Scipio turned his head to watch her, her green eyes met his.

  Thordred moved stiffly forward. His hand was hidden from view behind him as he stood beside the laboratory door.

  The languorous humming grew louder, more compelling. Jansaiya slept. Li Yang's pudgy hand fell from the lute. Scipio's eyelids drooped.

  Footsteps sounded softly. Through the doorway came Ardath, smiling his gentle smile. Perhaps he was dreaming that when he awoke, he would find his quest at an end. Not noticing Thordred beside him, he turned and fumbled over the wall with rapidly slowing fingers.

  The skin around Thordred's eyes wrinkled as he fought to remain awake. His hand came up with the slow motion of encroaching torpor, and he gripped a heavy metal bludgeon.

  He crashed it down on Ardath's head.

  Without a sound, the Kyrian crumpled and fell, lay utterly motionless. Blood seeped slowly through his dark hair.

  Instantly Thordred lunged through the doorway and reeled toward an instrument panel. If he could throw a single switch, the sleep-inducing apparatus would be shut off—

  Louder the humming grew. Its vibration shuddered through every atom of Thordred's body. In the next room was absolute silence.

  Thordred fell without feeling that he was doing so. The shock awakened him. He dragged himself to his knees and crawled on, his hand clawing desperately.

  One finger touched the switch and helplessly slipped down. The giant Earthman crouched, shaking his head slowly.

  Then he collapsed and sprawled out, silent. The yellow eyes were filmed with cataleptic sleep.

  The humming rose to a peak that gradually began to die away. Inside the golden ship, nothing stirred when it reached its orbit and robot controls made swift adjustments. Around the Earth the vessel hurtled.

  The lute fell from Li Yang's couch. A string snapped…

  CHAPTER XII

  The Man from Earth

  Stephen Court raced his roadster along a Wisconsin road as he peered through sun-glasses at the lonely countryside. Beside him, Marion Barton huddled like a kitten in the seat, the collar of her white blouse open for coolness.

  "How long?" she asked.

  "Couple of hours," Court grunted. "We pass through Madison first. The 'drome's fifty miles south of there."

  Marion drew a notebook from her purse and thumbed through it rapidly.

  "Everything's checked, I think," she reported absently. "Except the test flight. I don't believe the Temra was thoroughly inspected."

  "Damn silly name the papers gave the ship," Court said wryly. "It didn't need a name. It'll make the flight, all right."

  "And if it doesn't?"

  He shrugged indifferently without glancing at her.

  "Nothing much lost. For more than a month now, I've been working on the Plague—since Sammy got away—and I'm still at sea. Earth's science just isn't advanced enough. But perhaps I can find some more advanced alien science in that golden ship. Anyhow, we'll see."

  "Why must you go alone?" she insisted, her voice not quite steady.

  "Because there's only room for one. We can't take chances. There will be little enough air and supplies as it is. I'm the best man for the job, so I'm the one to go.'

  "But suppose something happens!"

  "I can't stop the Plague by myself. X is still unknown, as far as I'm concerned. The only real clue so far is entropy. I know that X is catalyzed by some element in Earth's atmosphere. It speeds up the entropy of a living organism, changes it into some form of life that might exist, normally, a billion years from now. But it's so alien!"

  He switched on the radio. A news commentator was talking excitedly.

  "Around Pittsburgh, martial law has been declared. W. P. A. workers are blasting out a deep trench around the city, and pouring deadly acids into it. Whether this will form an effective barrier, no one knows. The rivers are filled with floating corpses. The contagion is spreading with great speed. Nearly a hundred of the Carriers have been seen in Pittsburgh, and the bridges are choked with refugees…"

  So there were still more of the shining monsters. Sammy had been one of the first, and he was still wandering at large, since nothing could capture or destroy him.

  "The Carriers kill instantly by touching their victims. Lead-plated suits are being issued to the guardsmen, but these do not always work. It depends on the quantity of energy emitted by a Carrier. Dynamite has been placed at the New York bridges and tubes. The mayor is ready to isolate Manhattan, if necessary, for protection.

  "The war is at a standstill. Troops are mutinying by the thousands. Every metropolis is being vacated. We estimate about three thousand Carriers now exist, widely scattered over the Earth. From Buenos Aires—"

  With an impatient gesture, Court shut off the radio.

  "No hope," he said. "The Plague is steadily on the increase. I must get to the golden ship and back as soon as possible."

  They sat in silent despair as the car swept along the deserted highways. The landscape was incongruously peaceful. The green, rolling hills of Wisconsin stretched around them. A broad, lazy river flowed quietly beside the road. The only sound in the stillness was the humming of the motor.

  Marion leaned her head back and stared up at the cloudless blue sky. All she could do now was let her thoughts drift. Suppose the Plague had never come to Earth. She and Stephen might be driving along together, under this same sky, and perhaps—

  She blinked out of her reverie and lit a cigarette with unsteady fingers.

  "Thanks," Court said, and took it gently from her.

  She lit another for herself.

  "Funny," she said.

  Court nodded grimly, staring ahead.

  "Yes, I know. All this changing—'Giving place to the new.' But God knows what the new order will be. A world peopled by beings of pure energy, eventually consuming all then-natural food, and dying off. Then there will be only a dead planet."

  "Will it still be as lovely?" she asked softly.

  "Lovely?" Court frowned, seemed to notice the landscape for the first time. His gaze swept out over the rolling hills and the placid river. "Yes," he said finally, in a curious voice, "it is rather lovely. I wasn't aware of it before."

  "I didn't think you ever would be," she said.

  He flushed. "I have had so little time—"

  "It wasn't that. You never looked at the world or at human beings. You looked through microscopes and telescopes."

  He glanced at the girl and his hand went out in a gesture that was somehow pathetic. Then his lips tightened. He drew back, again clutching the wheel firmly. He looked ahead grimly without speaking, not seeing the tears that hung on Marion's lashes.

  They reached the air field soon after. The Terra had been wheeled out. A shining, golden cylinder, eight feet in diameter and twenty feet long, its ends were slightly tapered and bluntly rounded. I
t gleamed in contrast to the rich black loam on which it lay.

  "Small," Court criticized, 'Taut we had no time to make a larger one. It'll have to do."

  He helped Marion from the car and together they went toward the Terra. A group of mechanics and workers approached.

  "All set," the foreman stated. "She's warmed up and ready, Mr. Court."

  "Thanks." He halted at the open port. "Well…"

  "Good luck," Marion breathed.

  Court stared at her. Curious lines that had never been there before now bracketed his mouth. He looked away at the green hillside, and then back at the girl. His lips parted involuntarily, but with an effort he controlled himself.

  "Thanks," he said. "Good-by, Marion. I—I'll see you soon." He entered the ship and closed the port behind him.

  Marion stood quite silent, her fingers blindly shredding her handkerchief to rags.

  The Terra rose smoothly, swiftly mounted straight up. Smaller and smaller it grew, a glittering nugget of gold against the blue sky. Then it was merely a speck—and it was gone.

  Marion turned and walked slowly back to the car. Her lips were bravely scarlet, yet they quivered against the pallor of her face.

  Court sat before the control panel, peering ahead through a porthole.

  "Wonder what effect radiation in space will have?" he murmured. "It's leaded polaroid glass, of course, but the other ship had no portholes at all. They probably used some sort of televisor equipment that's beyond our contemporary science."

  He could see nothing but the blue of the sky. It grew darker, shading to a deep purple. Faint stars began to twinkle, until countless points of light were glittering frostily.

  "Sinus, Jupiter, Mars." Court sighed.

  With the secret of space travel mastered, man could reach all the planets. With sufficient power, the interstellar gulfs might even be bridged. But how long would man continue to exist on Earth?

  Hours merged into an unending monotony of watchful, weary vigilance. The Terra plunged on, gathering speed.