cautiously approached thebizarre structure. No dampness or phosphorus impaired the clarity ofits walls. The material composing them felt vibrantly warm to thetouch. It was not glass, yet it was possible to look withoutdifficulty into the interior of the building, which appeared to be onelarge room containing nothing but a central device not unlike thefilaments of an electric bulb. In fact, the whole building, viewedfrom the outside, reminded the two adventurers of a giant light globe.The filaments radiated a steady and somehow exhilarating light. Thedoor--they knew it was a door because an edging of dark metaloutlined its frame--gave admittance to the room.
"Shall we?" questioned Miles; and Ward answered doubtfully, "I don'tknow. Perhaps...."
But at last they turned the golden knob, felt the door give to theirpressure, and stepped through the entrance into the soft radiance ofthe interior. Unthinkingly, Ward released his hold on the knob and thedoor swung shut behind them. Instantly there was a flash of light, andthey were oppressed by a feeling of nausea: and then, out of amomentary pit of blackness, they emerged to find that the room ofcrystal had oddly changed its proportions and opaqueness. "Quick!"cried Ward; "let us get out of this place." Both men found the doorand staggered forth.
Then, at sight of what they saw, they stood rooted to the spot insheer amazement. The gloomy tunnel and the sidings of submarine carshad vanished, and they were standing in a vast hall, an utterlystrange and magnificent hall, staring up into the face of a creaturecrudely human and colored green!
* * * * *
The green man was almost of heroic proportions; he was clad in but abreech-clout, and was so broad as to appear squat in stature. Hecarried a short club, and appeared almost as dumbfounded as the twoAmericans. A moment he regarded them, then, with a ferocious snarl ofrage, he hurled himself upon the startled Ward and half clubbed, halfpushed him to the floor. Recovering from his momentary inaction andrealizing the danger in which his friend stood, Miles shouted andleaped upon the green man's back, fastening his sinewy fingers aboutthe giant's throat.
But the latter was possessed of incredible strength, and,straightening up, he shook off Miles as a bear might shake off anattacking dog, and threw him heavily to the floor. Then the greengiant whirled up his club, and it would have gone hardly with Miles ifWard had not remembered his automatic and fired in the nick of time.As if poleaxed, the green man fell; and both the adventurers recoveredtheir feet.
"Look out!" shouted Ward.
Through a wide entrance came charging a dozen greenish giants. Milesfired both his pistols. The leader of the greenish men paused inmid-leap, clawing at his stomach.
"This way, Kid!" yelled Ward; "this way!"
Taking advantage of the confusion in the ranks of the attackers, thetwo sprang to where an exit in the far wall promised an avenue ofescape. Down a broad passage they rushed. Seemingly the passage endedin a cul-de-sac, for a wall of blank whiteness barred furtherprogress. Behind them came charging the greenish giants utteringappalling cries. Desperately the two Americans turned, resolved tosell their lives as dearly as possible; but at that moment happened asheer miracle. The blank wall divided, revealing a narrow crevicethrough which they sprang. Noiselessly the crevice closed behind them,shutting out the green pursuers, and a voice said--a voice in precisebut strangely accented English:
"We have been expecting you, gentlemen, but--where is Solino?"
* * * * *
Never would Miles and Ward forget the amazement of that moment. Theywere in a place which looked not unlike a huge laboratory. Then theysaw it was a lofty room containing a variety of strange mechanisms.But it was not on these their eyes focussed. Confronting them in oddwheelchairs, with hairless heads projecting from tubular containerslike the one they had seen encasing the man at the control board ofthe submarines, were all of half a hundred crippled men!
"Good Lord!" exclaimed Miles, "I must be seeing things!"
"Where is Solino?" demanded the voice in strangely accented English.
Ward saw that the question came from an individual in a wheelchair afew feet in front of them.
"Solino is dead," he answered.
"Dead?" A ripple of sound came from the oddly seated men.
"Yes, the submarine car was wrecked in the tunnel, and everyone aboardwas killed save us two."
The hairless men looked at one another. "This is Spiro's work," saidone of them, still in English; and another said, "Yes, Spiro has donethis."
Miles and Ward were recovering somewhat from their initialastonishment. "What place is this?" asked the former.
"This is Apex--or, rather, the Palace of the Heads in Apex."
The Palace of the Heads! The two Americans tried to control theirbewilderment.
"Pardon us if we don't understand. Everything is so strange. First thesubmarine was wrecked. Then we entered the crystal room and the tunnelvanished. We can't understand how this place can be at the bottom ofthe Atlantic."
"It isn't at the bottom of the Atlantic."
"Not at the bottom? Then where?"
"It isn't," said the voice slowly, "in your world at all."
The import of what was said did not at first penetrate the minds ofthe Americans. "Not in our world?" they echoed stupidly.
"Come," said the crippled man smiling inscrutably, "you are tired andhungry. Later I shall explain more." His strangely colored eyes boredinto their own. "Sleep," said his voice softly, imperatively; andthough they fought against the command with all the strength of theirwills, heaviness weighted down their eyelids and they slept.
* * * * *
From dreamless sleep they awakened to find that fatigue hadmiraculously vanished, that their wounds were healed and their bodiesand clothes were free of slime and filth. All but one of the crippledmen--for so in their own minds they termed the odd individuals--hadgone away. That one was the man who had first addressed them.
"Do not be alarmed," he said. "In our own fashion we have given youfood and rest and attended to your comfort."
Ward smiled, though a trifle uncertainly. "We are not easilyfrightened," he replied.
"So! That is good. But now listen: my name is Zoro and I am Chief ofthe Heads of Apex. Ages ago we Heads lived on a continent of yourEarth now known to scholars as Atlantis. When Atlantis sank below thewaves--in your sacred book that tragedy is known as the Flood--all buta scattered few of its people perished. I and my companions were amongthe survivors."
The Americans stared at him unbelievingly. "But that was a hundredthousand years ago!" exclaimed Ward.
"Three hundred thousand," corrected Zoro.
They stared at him dumbly.
"Yes," said Zoro; "it sounds incredible to your ears, but it is true.Mighty as is the industrial civilization of your day, that of Atlantiswas mightier. Of course, the country wasn't then called Atlantis; itsreal name was A-zooma. A-zooma ruled the world. Its ships with sailsof copper and engines of brass covered the many seas which now arelands. Its airships clove the air with a safety and speed your ownhave still to attain. The wealth of the world poured into A-zooma, andits rulers waxed vain-glorious and proud. Time after time theenslaved masses of A-zooma and of conquered countries rose in greatrebellions. Then against them marched the "iron baylas" breathingdeath and destruction, and from the air mighty ships poured down theyellow fog...."
Zoro paused, but presently went on: "So we ruled--for ten thousandyears; until the scientists who begot those engines of destructionbecame afraid, because the serfs themselves began to build secretlaboratories. We of the priesthood of science saw the inevitabledisaster. Long ago we had put off our bodies--"
* * * * *
Zoro smiled at the Americans' amazement. "No," he said, "I am not acripple in a wheelchair. This tubular container holds no fleshly body.Inside of it is a mechanical heart which pumps artificial blood--bloodpurified by a process I will not describe--through my head. It alsocontains certain inner
devices under my mental control, devices thattake the place of human hands and feet. Only by accident or throughlack of certain essentials can I die."
His listeners stared at him in awe. "You mean," faltered Miles, "thatsave for your head you are all--machine?"
"Practically, yes. We priest-scientists of the Inner Mystery prolongedlife in such fashion. I was three thousand years old when--But enough!I will not weary you with a recital of how the slaves burrowed thebowels of A-zooma and of how the masters loosed against them theforces of the atom. Suffice it to say that on an island we built ourvast system of buildings--or tunnel as you choose to call it--andsealed them away from the outside world, entrance being made bysubmarines through