VERSION 1.O dtd 040400

Operation Time Search
By Andre Norton

"ATLANTIS? A fairy tale!" The man by the window
half turned. "You can't be serious-" He began that
protest confidently, but that confidence ebbed when
there was no change in the expression on his companion's face.
	"You saw the films of the first three runs. Did those
look like the product of someone's imagination? You
have inspected all the security measures devised to
make sure they were not. A fairy tale, you say." The
quiet gray-haired man leaned a little farther back in
his seat. "I wonder what does lie buried at the roots of
some of our traditional tales. Norse sagas, once dismissed
as fiction, have long since been proven to be chronicles
of historic voyages. Much of our folklore is distorted
clan, tribal, or national record. Dragons-now- Our
planet did have an age in which armored dragons
marched the earth-"
	"But not in the memory of mankind!" Hargreaves
came away from the window, his hands resting on his
hips, his chin outthrust as if he welcomed battle, verbal at least.
	"Don't you ever wonder why certain tales have
persisted, why they continue to linger over centuries,
told again and again? The man-devouring dragon-"
	Hargreaves smiled. "I always heard it that the proper
dragon preferred a diet of tender young maidens-
until some doughty knight changed his mind for him
with sword or lance."
	Fordham laughed. "But dragons, in spite of their
dietary habits, are firmly fixed in folklore around the
world. And their like did once roam the earth-"
	"At a time, I repeat, which far antedated the arrival
of our most primitive ancestor."
	"As far as we know," Fordham corrected. "What I say
is that there is a persistence of certain types of fairy
stories. When we set up this project-and you know the
reason for it---we had to have a starting point. Atlantis is
one of the most lasting of our legends. It has become so
much a part of our heritage that I think it is generally
accepted as fact-" .

"And all founded on a few sentences that were used by
Plato to hang some of his arguments on-"

"But suppose that Atlantis did once exist." Fordham picked
up a pencil, turned it end to end on the pad before him, but
made no markings. "Not in this world-"

"Where then? On Mars-? They blew themselves up, I
suppose, and left that pocking of desert craters-"

"Oddly enough, according to legend the Atlanteans did
eventually blow themselves up, or the equivalent. No, right
here on this planet. You have heard of the alternate history
theory-that from each major historical decision two
alternate worlds come into being."

"Fantastic-" Hargreaves interrupted.

"Is it? Suppose that it is fact, that on one of those alternate
time lines Atlantis did exist, just as on another dragons
overlapped mankind."

"Even if that were so, how would we know about it?"

"True. We could be separated from those lines by whole
networks of major choices and decisions. Yet, suppose
when we were close together, there was a kind of seepage-
perhaps individuals even crossed. We have well-
authenticated stories of strange and unexplainable
disappearances from our own world, and one or two odd
people have turned up here under very peculiar
circumstances. And Atlantis is so vivid a story, has so seized
upon the imagination of generations, that we used it for our
checkpoint."

"Just how?"

"We fed-into the Ibby every known scrap of material on
the subject that is known by the modern worldfrom the
reports of geologists sounding the sea bottoms for possible
ridges of a sunken continent to `revelations' of cultists. And
Ibby gave us an equation in return."

"You mean you set up the probe-beam on that?"

"Exactly. And you have seen the resulting test films. Those
came from Ibby's calculations. And you'll admit they bear
no resemblance to the here and now."

"Yes, I'll say that much. And they were taken?"

"Right out there, over the landscape you've been viewing.
We're set today for a ten-minute run, the longest we have
dared to try. We use the mound for a checkpoint."

"Still having trouble over that?"

Fordham frowned. "We gave out the story that we are
clearing to build an addition to the labs. This Wilson who is
making all the fuss is chronically opposed to government
authority. He's built up this `Save our historic mound'
crusade mainly to get himself space in the city papers and to
harass the project. Started a rumor last year that we were
dabbling in some weird new experiment that would blow
the whole county off the map. He was warmed then by the
security people. But he believes this mound thing is safe.
However, `Save our historic mound' isn't as good for
arousing interest as `Look out, the eggheads are going to
blow us up.' His campaign is already running down.

"However, the mound makes a good checkpoint because it
is older than any other surviving man-made landmark
hereabouts."

"What if you turn up mound builders instead of
Atlanteans?"

"Well, then we'd have a better set of films than those we
already possess to rivet attention on the project, though
those we do have are more to our real purpose."

"Yes," agreed Hargreaves. "And if this does work-if we can
get through ourselves-"

"We can tap natural resources, riches such as we cannot
imagine in this era. We've plundered and wasted and used
up most of the living treasures of our world. So now we
have to try to pillage somewhere else. Well, shall we go to
see-Atlantis?"

Hargreaves laughed. "Seeing is believing; one picture is
worth a volume of words. Give me a good film to take
back to Washington, and I may be able to up your
current appropriation. All right-show me Atlantis."

The weather for early December was surprisingly mild. Ray
Osborne opened the collar of his leather jacket. His ex-
paratrooper boots flattened ragged clumps of last season's
grass. The shadow of the Indian mound enclosed him now.
Early Sunday morning-Wilson had been right in his
suggestion about the time. The fence had had a gap just as
he had promised. There was only one building in sight, the
tower part of the hush-hush installation. And on this side of
the mound, he was safely out of sight, even if anyone was
on duty there.

What were they planning to build anyway-clearing it flat
with bulldozers? What would people do when there was no
more open country at all? Ray turned to face the mound,
readying his camera for the shots he had been sent to take.
His finger pressed

And, as if that had thumbed the red switch of final doom,
the world went mad. Ray staggered back, aware only of
intolerable pain in his head, pain associated with violet
flashes that blinded him. Silence- He rubbed at his watering
eyes. Mist faded, and he stood, swaying drunkenly, staring
about him in stunned disbelief.

The raw wound of the clearing, the distant earthmoving
machinery, and even the mound were gone! He was in the
shadow, not of mounded earth, but of a towering giant
tree, with another and another beyond!

Ray put out a shaking hand. He could feel rough bark-it was
real! Then he began to run down a moss carpeted corridor
between trees whose girth was that of monsters. "Get
back!" shouted something inside his head. "Back?" asked
another part of his dazed mind. Where was back?

Minutes later he burst from the dimness of that incredible
forest into a grass-grown plain. A withered root protruded
from the earth to send him sprawling, and he lay drawing
air into his lungs with panting gasps. Soon he became aware
that a hot sun beat down

upon him, far too warm for winter. He pulled up to his
knees to look about him.

Ahead no break in that plain, behind him the forest--nothing
he had ever seen before. Where was he? Shivering,
though the earth under him was warm, Ray forced himself
to sit quietly. He was Ray Osborne. He had gone out to the
project on Sunday morning as a favor to Les Wilson, to
take some good shots of the mound to go with the article
Les was writing. Shots--his hands were empty! The camera?
He must have lost it back there when it happened.  What had
happened?

Ray dropped his head between his hands. He fought a battle
with primitive panic and tried to think logically. But how
can one think logically about something such as this? One
minute standing in a sane, ordinary world-the next being
here. And where was here?

Slowly he got to his feet, thrusting his twitching hands into
the pockets of his jacket. Go back. He half turned to face
that silent density of forest and knew that he could not go in
there again, not yet. His heart began to thump heavily when
he thought of it. Somehow this open land seemed the lesser
of two evils. So he trudged on, to find a little later a break
in the plain. Below was a narrow gully that housed a stream,
and around that grew tall brush and saplings.

As he sought a path down the steep side, there was a
crashing in the brush below. Out of that green thicket,
straight at the almost perpendicular slope. hurtled a dark
shape. Sharp hoofs pawed frantically at the wall, bringing
down soil and stones. Then, appearing to realize there was
no climbing it, the creature, with a toss of its antlered head,
turned to face its hunters.

Ray clutched at the grass of the verge to keep from sliding
over. The hunted animal was directly below him, head low,
breathing in labored snorts. But he could not believe it was
real. Elk, if this huge monster could be an elk, did not run
wild in southern Ohio. It had an antler spread of more than
six feet and was far
taller than Ray-as out of proportion as the forest
trees.
	From the brush leaped shaggy-coated wolfish beasts.
Avoiding the reaching scoop of the elk's antlers, the
first lunged for the animal's foreleg, clearly no novice
at this wicked game. They made a running fight,
dashing in to slash and then speeding away before the
larger animal could well defend itself.
	Ray was roused from his absorption in the battle by a
shout. The hail drew one of the hounds momentarily
out of the fight. It answered with a sharp bark. In a
moment two-footed hunters appeared. They carried
nothing Ray could identify as a weapon, though one of
them had a short rod of metal. This he aimed at the
throat of the cornered elk, and from its tip shot a ray of
red light. Bellowing, the elk reared, to crash forward,
nearly striking one of the hounds. The dogs rushed in
to tear at the still quivering body, but the hunters
pulled them back from the kill, sending them howling
with well-aimed kicks and cuffs.
	Drawing a dagger from a belt sheath, one of the men
set about butchering the fallen animal. Another fastened
leashes to the metal-studded collars of the hounds,
while the third wrapped the fire rod in cloth and
stowed it down the front of his jerkin.
	All three were of medium height, but the broadness
of their shoulders and the heaviness of their upper.
arms gave them a dwarfish look. Their coarse black
hair, shoulder length, was sleeked smooth with grease
and held by leather thongs. Their skin was between
copper and olive in shade. Broad mouths with thick
lips parting over strong yellow teeth, dark eyes, and
hooked noses comprised their features.
	They wore tunics of grayish leather, tanned to the
flexibility of cloth, garments that reached from shoul-
der to mid-thigh. Over these were sleeveless metal-
enforced jerkins. High thick-soled buskins covered feet
and legs to the knees, but their arms were bare, save
for bands of metal set with dull stones. Their wide belts
supported sheathed daggers.

	Ray crouched there, no longer attempting to recon-
cile anything he saw with reality. A dream-it must be
a dream. In time he was going to wake up-
	Then one of the dogs discovered him. Its red eyes
found the source of the strange scent that had tickled
its nostrils. With a howl it flung itself to the limit of its
leash. The strand of hide halted its spring. In an
instant it tried again. This time the thong parted. But,
like the elk before it, it could gain no foothold on the
gully wall. It continued to paw futilely at the gravel,
giving tongue like a mad thing.
	Bewildered, Ray was easy prey. With a shout one of the
hunters pointed to him. The leader whipped out the rod
and aimed. Ray had turned to him. The leader whipped
out the rod and aimed. Ray had turned to run, but he
was never to reach that safety a foot or so more of soil
might have given him. Something within him stiffened;
he could not move.
	Unable to stir so much as a finger, he stood impotently
waiting the arrival of his captors. With the aid of their
single strange weapon, they blasted a series of steps up
the side of the gully. He had not died at once as had the
elk; that was all he knew.
	They approached him in a body, and Ray stared
steadily back at them. The immobility of their heavy
features and the lack of readable emotion in their
opaque eyes was disquieting. Masks, Ray thought,
subtly evil masks. With an icy qualm he realized he
was confronting something alien, beyond the bounda-
ries of his old sane world.
	Now they circled him warily, studying their capture.
The weapon-bearing leader broke the silence with an
interrogation in a guttural, hissing tongue. When Ray
did not reply, the man's brutal jaw thrust forward
pugnaciously.
	Again he questioned, but this time in a murmur,
almost sing-song. Another language, Ray guessed. His
continued silence appeared to disconcert his captors a
little.
	At last the leader snapped an order. From his belt
one of the others freed a thong of hide and stepped behind
Ray, to whip his powerless wrists together and lash them
tight. Still under the influence of the strange weapon, Ray
was forced to submit. He was shaken with a sudden
loathing at the touch of the hunter.

Once he was bound, the leader raised the rod. No beam
from its tip followed, but Ray was up-frozen again. Without
a backward glance, the rod bearer walked away. The hunter
who had bound Ray flicked him across the shoulders with
the end of that thong, pointing after. Ray's loathing heated
into anger, not only at his captors, but also somehow at the
whole disaster that had befallen him. He might not know
where he was or why, but the feeling that he would learn
and exact payment after that learning steadied him. He
found strength in his anger, and he clung to it as a drowning
man might cling to a rock in the midst of a raging river.

They followed the lip of the gully for about half a mile
before there was a break in the steepness of the wall. Ray,
bound as he was, could not have descended their stair, and
even now he hesitated over the scramble. The guard rapped
him across the ribs with the flat of his long dagger to start
him. But at the fourth step, Ray lost his shaky balance and
tumbled forward, to slide down in a cloud of dust and
gravel, ending with a knock against the trunk of a sapling, his
skinned face lower than his long legs.

Surely, he thought grimly, if this was a dream, that ought to
have awakened him. There was a dull ache at the base of his
skull. Helpless, unable to gain his feet, he lay awaiting the
pleasure of his captors.

They were leisurely in their own descent. One of them came
to prod Ray up with a well-aimed kick. When he could not
stand in answer to that encouragement, two of them heaved
him erect. With a vicious push, which almost sent him
sprawling once more, they started him on.

Blood oozed out from gravel cuts on his lips and chin,
drawing the attention of small stinging flies he could

do nothing to dislodge, since jerking his head about made
him dizzy. When they reached the elk, he was made fast to a
tree, while the hunters continued their butchery. After
hacking portions of meat free, they fed .z some to the dogs
and packed others in green hide. Then, one, taking some
entrails, dragged them along the :° ground, leaving a red
trail.

A short distance away, he came to a black hole in the slope
with a sand mound below it. Dropping the scraps of offals
there, he broke off a twig, thrust it into the n hole, and
turned it around and around. Then he leaped away as a
wave of large ants curled up and out.

The others had freed both Ray and the snarling hounds, and
taking up the meat, they started down- _ stream. Ray
glanced back at the kill. It was buried,,, under a heaving dark
blanket.

He estimated later that they must have traveled: almost an
hour before the gully widened into a regular valley. The
brush, which had torn his unprotected skin and left red
scratches on the hunters' bare arms, be-. came thickets of
trees and patches of waist-high grass.

Ray's discomfort increased with almost every step he was
herded into taking. His face, scraped raw, bitten, and stung,
was puffed and swollen. His eyes had, narrowed into slits in
the tortured flesh. The steady ache at the base of his skull
spread across his shoulders and down his back. He had lost
all sense of feeling in his cramped arms. Yet in a way, he
welcomed all these , torments; they kept him from his
thoughts. Where was. he? What had happened? That this was
a dream he  could no longer believe, no matter how he held
despairingly to such a hope.

The end to the need to keep staggering came at last.
Abruptly the valley came to shore land, and the stream
flowed on to form a miniature delta on the lip of a rolling
sea. Sea?

Keen salt air roused Ray to something again approaching
coherent thought. Sea? In the midst of a' continent? He
looked upon the pale crescent of sand with a kind of dull
horror.
There could be no sea here. But then here was not his own
world! He was firmly caught in a nightmare.

A hail from the beach urged his captors to a swifter pace,
and they dragged him with them, one on either side to jerk
him along. Down at the edge of that incredible water,
smoke, thin and tenuous as morning mist, plumed up from
a driftwood fire, and several dark figures stood to greet the
huntsmen.

"Still say fairy tale?" Fordham did not raise his eyes from the
view screen.

When Hargreaves did not answer, he glanced around. There
was a frown drawing the other's features into a pattern of
angry belligerence. Fordham had witnessed that reaction
before. This time he welcomed the sign of doubt battered
by evidence.

"All right. I see something-trees-like those on your other
films."

"Trees?" Fordham pushed. "Do they resemble any you have
seen before?"

"No-" Hargreaves' admission came reluctantly. Fordham
continued to press.

"Trees such as those," he pointed out, "have probably not
been seen in this part of the world for several hundred
years. The early settlers are reported to have had their
problems when they cleared this land. Sometimes it took
years to remove virgin forest, stump and root."

"All right! I'll admit you have something, that we see a
section of country through that beam which certainly is not
out there now and may not have been for a long time. But
time travel-Atlantis-I have to have more proof before I
send in any recommendation-"

"You have the films to take back with you. I only spoke of
Atlantis as a possibility-I didn't promise it. You may merely
see pre-Columbian or just pre-Revolutionary Ohio but there.
We have no way yet of proving or disproving Ibby's
equation. But you'll have to admit it is an impressive
beginning-"

"I want to see the film of what we've just watched,"

Hargreaves said. "I want to see if I can spot the change
when the beam went on."

"Take a little time to set it up-"

Hargreaves' scowl grew deeper. "I've got plenty-for this.
And I want to see what I'm taking back. There'll be a lot of
questions to answer."

"There-" Fordham settled down in the projection room.
"Here we go, Now-here's the cutting as is."

Raw earth under the weak sunlight of winter, a bulldozer to
the left throwing a shadow, the rise of the disputed mound

"I'll admit I saw a change. I only hope that the film shows
it!"

Fordham laughed. "Hypnotism? That's what you think I'm
doing? What would be the point? Unless you think I've
ridden a hobby completely out of sane bounds. This is the
first time we've held a beam so long-so we should have
more detailed evidence."

Hargreaves stared at the screen. "When can you-" he
hesitated.

"Go over the line ourselves? So far we can only look. We
don't know about the going. We'll have to build up a lot
more power-"

"That growth of timber-" Hargreaves watched the great
forest, or that portion of it the beam and film had trapped
for them. "Might be a lot of other resources to be tapped.
Looks like an empty world-"

"Yes, be practical. Suppose we can open a door into
wherever that is, draw upon the resources there. Now-what
sort of reaction do you believe you would get to a
presentation before the committee if you stress that?"

"They would want to be sure it had a fifty-fifty chance of
working. How soon before you will be able to make a real
experiment?"

"Send someone through, you mean? I don't know. It has
taken us two years to get this far."

Hargreaves shook his head. "Get your films; let me
show them. We may be able to grant you at least half of
what you asked for."
	"Generous. But I suppose to be expected." Fordham's
words were not as grudging as they might have been.
He was inwardly satisfied with his half-convert.
	They watched the run-through, Hargreaves well for-
ward in his chair. There was the scar of the cutting, the
mound, then a flicker, and the trees. But a sharp
exclamation from Fordham broke the hum of the pro-
jector.
	"Langston," he called to the operator, "backtrack.
Hold it slow just before the switch-"
	"What--?" Hargreaves' protest stopped as he looked
at his companion. Fordham's satisfaction of moments
earlier had disappeared.
	The scar about the mound again came into view.
	"To the left of the mound-right there-look!"
	Hargreaves looked. A figure, difficult to distinguish,
but surely a human figure, stepped within the path of
the beam. That which had shown as a flicker when the
film was run at normal speed now became a flash that
made him blink. Then there were the trees and, surely,
beside one of them still that human figure.
	"Come on!" Fordham was making for the door in a
surprising burst of speed for one of his age and habits.
They were actually running as they passed down a
hallway and into a small outside parking area. Fordham
jerked at the door of his car and scrambled into the
driver's seat. And Hargreaves had just time to make it
in beside him and slam the door before they skidded
across the concrete, heading for the gate.
	The guard saw them coming and must have had his
wits about him, for he threw the automatic switch just
in time. Hargreaves released his breath in a faint
whistle of relief. At least Fordham had not plowed into
that barrier as it looked he might do.
	Luckily the road was deserted beyond, for they entered
it at a prohibited speed. Caution must have caught up
with Fordham somewhere along that stretch, for he
slowed to turn into the lower cutting, where they
bumped and skidded along the rough road of the earth
movers.
	Then once more the director was out and running for
the mound. His fear or excitement kept him several
paces ahead of Hargreaves, but when the latter rounded
the end of the mound, he came upon Fordham at a dead
halt. The director held a camera in his hands. But of
the figure they had seen on the film, there was no sign
at all.
	"He's gone!" Hargreaves stated the obvious.
	Fordham looked up from the camera, his face bleak.
"He's gone, yes-out there-" He looked over his shoul-
der to where they had seen those rows of trees. And
Hargreaves shivered, knowing how that other had
gone but not where.
"WHERE?" Hargreaves heard himself putting that thought
into words.

Fordham's answer came in a voice hardly above a whisper.
"Atlantis-perhaps."

"But-you said that the forest could be pre-Columbian -or
even later," Hargreaves protested.

"Sure. It could be that-or anything. You saw it, and the film-
and you see this now-" Fordham waved the camera. "That
poor fool went in, or back, or out whichever way you want
to express it--and we sent him."

"Can you get him back?" Hargreaves pushed aside
speculation, reaching as ever for hard fact.

"It will take at least four days, maybe more, to build up the
power in the beam again. These things have to be timed.
Why do you suppose we selected this particular date and
hour to try it this time? It isn't just a matter of pressing a
button to open a door. There has to be a careful working
from code. Four days-" He stared around him. "And we
have no way of telling how fast time passes over there. He
won't be just sitting there for four days-he has no idea that
we'll try to get him back. He may be miles away when we
are ready."

Hargreaves turned away from the mound to look out over
the raw cutting. "But it will have to be done. And the
sooner we get to work doing it-"

"Of course." But Fordham sounded as if he knew already
they faced a hopeless task. Hargreaves still gazed at the cut.

"Atlantis-no!" And there was determined refusal in his voice:

Ray stumbled, to sprawl face down in sand near a fireplace
rudely built out of rocks. Exhausted, he was content to lie
there, paying small attention to the

hunters and those others who awaited them in this camp,
but he was not left undisturbed.

Legs, slightly bowed, encased in boots of stiff hide to which
patches of thick hair still clung, moved into his restricted line
of vision. Then one of those boots was thrust under him,
and he was rolled over, face up to the sky. The newcomer
wore the same leather tunic as the hunters, but a kilt
fashioned of metal strips clashed together as he moved.
Instead of a metal-reinforced jerkin, he wore breast and
back plates cast in single pieces to fit his barrel chest and
wide shoulders snugly. His left arm from wrist to elbow
was sheathed in a metal cuff guard, but his right was bare
save for two jeweled bracelets.

He was bareheaded, and the long black strings of his hair
were whipped about his face by a rising wind. But he
carried in the crook of one arm a helmet with two bat like
wings set in a center ridge. A sword swung at his belt. Taller
than the hunters, less swarthy of skin, he seemed of a
different caste. But the same emotionless mask covered his
features.

After a long survey he barked an order, and one of the
hunters came to slit the bonds about Ray's wrists and pull
the American to his feet. The officer asked questions and the
hunter replied, with a pantomime, as well as words,
explaining the capture. When he had done, the officer
proceeded to interrogate his prisoner by gestures-a wide
sweep of hand to the west and then one word:

Mu.

Ray shook his head. And the officer seemed disturbed at his
reply. He frowned and pointed east with another question
Ray did not hear very well. Suddenly the American
understood-they wanted to know where he came from; that
must be it.

He pointed back to where that grim forest must stand. For
any more than that, they knew as much as he did about it.
He was unprepared for their reaction to his answer.

The officer's eyes narrowed as might a cat's. His

thick lips drew apart in a snarl, displaying purplish
gums and yellow teeth. Then he exploded in a cackle of
derisive laughter, his disbelief very plain.
	Rounding on his followers, the officer made another
of the hunters repeat the story of Ray's capture. It was
given as before. Then the hunter pointed to Ray's bare
head, to his wind-ruffled short brown hair, and reached
out a hand still unwashed after the elk butchery to tug
at the leather jacket their prisoner wore, directing the
officer's attention to it. He promptly signed for Ray to
take it off: The hunter rifled its pockets, producing a
handkerchief, a notebook, and a spare film pack.
	In a few minutes the prisoner stood shivering in the
wind, his clothing all spread out on the sand. But his
captors still searched the pockets as if they were con-
vinced he must carry some important object. One of the
hunters appropriated his pocket knife; another turned
his wrist watch around and around until ordered sharply
by the officer to hand it over. Shaking out the handker-
chief, the leader piled therein the contents of Ray's
pockets, tying it all into a bag, placing that in a wicker
basket.
	Ray stooped to reach for his clothing, but the officer's
hand shot out with a backhanded slap that sent him
sprawling. A hunter tossed a package of hide to the
captive. Hot with anger, Ray pulled on a meager gar-
ment that was rather like a kilt and utterly inade-
quate as protection in the growing chill of the wind. He
wondered what would happen if he tried to jump the
officer.
	Even as his imagination supplied a few details satis-
factory to him, steel fingers closed upon him again,
spinning him half around as his right arm was whipped
away from his body. On the pale skin of his right
forearm was a small bluish circle, radiating lines, a
juvenile attempt at tattooing that the years had not
erased. The officer sneered as he inspected it. Then he
flung Ray's arm from him and spat.
	"Mu." Not a question now but statement.
	So night came in the new world. Apparently they

had some future use for him, for he was given a portion
of roasted elk. Then his arms were tied again-and his
ankles as well-and one of the men flung a skin cover-
let over him as he tried to burrow into the sand for
warmth.
	Where was he? Suddenly that mattered more than
how he had come here. The historic mound, then the
trees, now here. Indians? But even if time travel was
possible outside of fiction, these were not Indians. And
the sea did not run into Ohio and-and- Ray fought
the panic again rising in him, which wanted to set him
running, screaming-
	All right, he did not know how he got here, nor
where here was. But his immediate problem was the
hunters and what they planned to do with him. After a
while his tired brain was as benumbed as his shivering
body, and he slept, exhausted.
	The shrill cry of a bird awoke him in the early dawn.
Under a makeshift tent of cloaks, the officer snored
and twitched, and a sentry nodded by a dying fire. So
the dream continued. Ray attempted to sit up, but his
bonds bit cruelly into his flesh. By digging his heels
into the sand, he edged along until his shoulders scraped
one of the boulders about the camp site. Cautiously he
worked himself up to a sitting position.
	In the east a faint pink deepened. A gray bird dived
to seek breakfast in the waves. With a sharp nod the
sentry roused, yawned, and spat noisily into the fire.
Then he got to his feet, looking at Ray with an evil
grin.
	Opening proceedings by planting the toe of a boot in
the prisoner's ribs, he twitched Ray forward to inspect
the security of his bonds before slamming him back
with a jolt against the rock. Having carried out one
duty, he went to stir the fire into life.
	Ray shook his head. Dried blood and dust encrusted
his face. A pulse throbbed heavily in throat and tem-
ple. If he could only get his hands free-
	The officer rolled out of his tent and unbuckled the
clasp that fastened his under tunic. Dropping the gar-
ment by the armor he had shed the night before, he ran
out into the waves. As he splashed there, he suddenly
shouted, and the rest of them came to their feet, calling
and pointing to the open sea, where a black shadow cut
through the blue-green.
	Returning, the officer dried his body and dressed,
loosing a volley of orders that sent his men into scurry-
ing activity. One of them unfastened Ray's ankles and
hauled him to his feet.
	A ship was coming, but it was unlike any vessel Ray
had ever seen pictured. Perhaps half a mile off shore it
halted its rush, oars flashed from its narrow sides, and
it scuttled on in like a water beetle.
	Ray had seen illustrations of Roman galleys, but
those had also masts and sails. This only possessed
bow and stern superstructures, crowned with roofs,
which were also upper decks. The waist was lower, and
there the rowers labored in open pits. The bow came to a
sharp point set with a brightly painted figurehead.
From a slender pole on the afterdeck whipped a blood-red
flag.
	There was a look of power to this slim, cruel vessel,
an air of grim efficiency. Whoever Ray's captors might
be, they were evidently well able to care for themselves
in this strange world.
	The ship came to anchor, and a few moments later a
long boat swung overside to hit the water. With a
rhythmical sweep of oars, it made for the shore where
the hunting party waited, their bundles ready, the fire
smothered in sand.
	Now the officer cut the cord about Ray's wrists. He
rested his hand on the hilt of the sword in a way to be
understood. To suit his captor's convenience, the pris-
oner must be freed, but he would be foolish to try an
escape.
	Six men and an officer made up the boat crew. They
shouted questions at the hunters as they splashed
overboard to drag in their craft. The commander of the
shore party pulled Ray forward, showing him off: It
would appear that his capture was a noteworthy exploit

on the part of the hunters and that the officer in the
boat was openly envious. Then the hunter-officer pointed
inland and asked a question to which the other nodded
assent.
	Unloosing their dogs, three hunters padded away
while the others made for the boat. Ray climbed in
clumsily, his legs and arms still stiff from his bonds,
and was shoved down between two seats. They headed
back to the vessel.
	Nearing the flank of the ship, they warded off their
boat with shortened oars until a rope ladder dropped.
Two of the shore party went up, and then the ladder
was thrust into Ray's hold. He climbed awkwardly,
giddy from the swing, chill with the fear of losing hold
and falling, to be caught between boat and ship. The
officer from the camp came behind, impatiently prod-
ding him on.
	The prisoner dropped down into the crowded waist,
and behind him the officer flung up an arm to salute a
red-cloaked individual. The red cloak, so like a smol-
dering coal, drew the eye. It was not really a cloak, Ray
saw, but a long crimson robe, the color of new-shed
blood, which covered a tall, very spare man from throat
to heels.
	Beneath the rounded dome of a closely shaven skull,
large black eyes peered from either side of a jutting,
beaklike nose. The mouth below was sunken, the lips
puckered, and the chin had a sharp upward hook. With
one earth-brown hand the man caressed the bony line
of his jaw, staring not at the officer making the report
but at Ray.
	And under the probing of those lusterless black eyes,
the prisoner suddenly felt unclean, as if something foul
with slime had crept across his flesh. The hunters and
their officer were brutal, but, Ray realized, this man
was something he did not, could not understand, wholly
alien to his own world. He experienced a shrinking
inner horror under that gaze, a need to range himself
against the wearer of the red robe and all he stood for.
And so strong was this surge of revulsion that it frightened
him.

"So-Murian-"

Ray quivered. He could not have understood those words,
yet he did. Or was it only with his mind that he "heard"?

"So, Murian, like all your kind, you would stand against the
Dark One? Puny follower of a dying flame, think you that
we cannot link your will to ours in the end? Remember, the
Bull One can trample out flame. Who can withstand his
will?"

Ray shook his head, not in denial of the other's words but in
an effort to clear away the giddiness that the realization he
did understand carried with it. Who was the Dark One?
Murian-what was Murian?

A faint shadow of some emotion crossed the Red Robe's
mummy face. "Seek not to evade with such feeble tricks.
You understand well what is said to you. Get you down
with your fellow and learn humility."

Thought reading? Well, it could be a part of the rest of this
wild dream. Ray did not resist when three of the warriors
standing near on him and bore him further along the waist.
At the far end they spread-eagled him against the wall and
made him fast by bands of iron set in the planking.

When they had left, he turned his head and saw that he had a
companion in restraint. Fettered as was he, so close by that
the fingers of their hands almost touched, was another
captive. He drooped limply in the irons, his head fallen
forward on his breast, so his long hair veiled his face. But by
the rest of his appearance, he was of a different breed from
the ship's company.

His skin was no darker than Ray's, and he was as tall. The
long locks of hair were the color of polished bronze, snarled
and matted and, in one place, bloodstained. A tunic of
yellow, mid-thigh in length, hung in tatters from one
shoulder. Its rags were confined at the stranger's waist by a
broad gem-studded belt. But there was only an empty sheath
to show he had once been armed with a sword. Like the
hunters, he wore

high boots, but infinitely superior in workmanship. Ray
wondered if the other captive was unconscious. At least they
were in the same trouble and perhaps could make common
cause. He hissed softly, hoping for an answer. A groan as
faint as a sigh answered him. Ray hissed again, and the other
stirred, turning his head with painful slowness.

The perfection of the stranger's features, marred now by cuts
and greenish bruises, was remotely like that of some Greek
statue, Ray thought. But no son of Argos had ever possessed
such high, wide cheekbones, nor the heavy, drooping lids
that. half concealed blue eyes. He stared at Ray, amazed, and
then his battered lips worked. In the soft speech the hunters
had once used, the stranger asked a question. When Ray
shook his head, the other was visibly startled.

"Who are you who have not the tongue of the motherland

Mind-touch again! Ray tried not to flinch. At least this time
such contact had not brought with it the suggestion of foul
invasion.

"Ray-Ray Osborne-a prisoner-" he answered slowly, in
English the other seemed to understand.

"From whence come you? Remember-think slowly that I
may read from your memory, see with your eyes-"

Obediently Ray retraced his bewildering journey, from his
visit to the mound to the unexplained forest, the plain, the
meeting with the hunters. And panic must be battled anew.
What had happened? Where was he? On what sea? In what
world?

"So that is the way of it--a slip-through. But I do not
recognize your time."

"My time?" Ray repeated.

"Yes, you are from the far future--or the past. It is known to
the Naacals that perhaps man can travel so. Though those
who have tried, by our records, never return. But for you it
came by chance, which is indeed a strange thing, since only
adepts ,of the first rank
think upon such things--then only after much training and
study."

Ray swallowed. Without surprise, this stranger apparently
accepted such insanity as possible, knew that it had been
done before. A slip-through-through what---into where?
Where-if he only knew that, perhaps he could fasten on
something that did make sense. He asked the first question
he could sort out of a bewildering whirl of thought.

"Who are these men-in this ship?"

And the reply was ready enough. "We are prisoners of the
Atlanteans-the children of the Dark One. Look you to their
sign-"

With his chin the other indicated the red banner on the deck
above.

But that was impossible! Atlantis had never really existed-it
was only a legend of a continent supposed to have vanished
in catastrophic disaster before the first stone of the Great
Pyramid had been laid. It was the fable that had given a
name to one of the great oceans of his own world, but it
was only fantasy.

"Why do you think captivity has twisted my wits?" the other
asked calmly. "I speak the truth. We are prisoners of the
sons of Ba-Al, the Dark One of the Great Shadow. And
five days hence this ship will sight the cliffs of the Red Land
itself-"

"But that can't be true!" Ray protested. "Atlantis is a myth, a
Greek myth-"

"Of Greek, I know nothing. But I say to you, Atlantis is real,
too real, as you shall see when we dock at the Five Walled
City. It is as real as these hoops forged in the fires of its
smithies, which now hold us in bondage, as the hate of that
son of Ba-Al who commands the obedience of the captain
of this vessel, as the stripes they have laid upon our bodies.
The Red Ones now rule the wind and wave of the western
sea. Shame be to us of the Flame that it is so. Atlantis waxes.
So strong does she think herself that she moves now to
stand alone against the world."

Ravings, of course

.

"Why do you strive to close your mind to the truth? You
are awake, you are alive. Do you not feel, taste, breathe, see,
even as I? Accept the evidences of your sense-that you have
passed from your time and world into ours. It must be, as
the adepts say, that men without preparation cannot face
such journeys, for it seems that you cannot now allow
yourself to believe the truth."

"I dare not," Ray whispered. His mouth was dry, parched,
and he shivered with a chill not born of the wind against his
half-bare body.

"Are you then a nothing one who has no control upon his
thoughts, no reins upon his fears?" demanded the other
sharply and with some scorn.

"Madness-it is madness-" Yet Ray reacted to that scorn with
a small spring of anger that gave him strength.

"No. It has happened to others. I tell you, the adepts have
done it-"

"And none returned-" Ray pointed out.

"True. Yet perhaps they did not meet with disaster either.
Tell me is it not true that you still live? And while a man
lives, all else is possible. Could you reach the city of the Sun,
there would be those there to show you the true paths of
time. Are the men of your age so ignorant that they do not
know time is the great serpent, that it turns and coils upon
itself so that one time may almost touche upon another?
One can then, perchance, slip through. While those who
have gone on such quests have not returned, our seekers
have seen through into other times and places. They have
looked upon the fields of Hyperborea, which has gone
from us a thousand, thousand years and is only a legend
now. Do not fear what is past; look to the future, for these
black hounds of the Great Shadow are about us, to be
grappled with in the here and now. And that is a peril worse
than any you have yet faced!" His words were now cold
and hard in Ray's brain. "I will swear Flame oath to you on
that!"

If he had passed into another time, then he was
utterly, nakedly alone, incredibly lost. Again the American
fought panic.

"They have named you Murian; better that you be Murian.
If they guess you are otherwise, then the priests will have
you. And those of the Great Shadow-"

"What is Murian?" Ray interrupted.

"A son of the great motherland, as am I. For I am Cho of
the house of the Sun in the motherland. Those of my
courtyard are swordsmen to the Re Mu himself."

"The motherland?" Learn, learn what he could. Hold to the
fact that if this was the truth, all the knowledge he could
gain would be weapons, tools, or defense.

"The land in the far west, where life began again from a
few seeds, legend tells us, after Hyperborea was swept
away. Mu mothered the earth, and from her shores came
forth men to people Mayax, Uighur, and Atlantis. Re Mu
rules the world, or did until the fish ones of Atlantis
dabbled in forbidden learning and fell under the Shadow-or
marched under it by their own wills!

"Their first Poseidon-their leader-was a son of the house
of the Sun in the motherland. But in time his line died out,
and the people chose their own ruler. He was strong in will
and in desire for power, and he turned from the path to life
to assail the wall between the Shadow and our earth: that
wall nurtured by the Flame to protect man from all that
crawls in the outer dark. He drank power as the herders
of the hills drink strange dreams from the juices of the
tracmon.

"And he did not want to stand again in the Hall of the
Hundred Kings to receive the word of the Ru Mu but to go
his own way-"

Listening, Ray forgot fear, fastening on the need for
getting a picture of this new world, erecting thus a barrier
against dangerous thoughts. '

"Thus began the rule of Ba-Al, the father of evil, hate, lust,
all those thoughts and desires within a man that do him
harm. It began secretly, underground, in caves, then more
openly. It was a corrosive within the ranks of warriors, the
companies of the people, the

seamen. Only the Sun-born remained true to the Flame.
Then, on a last day, the Sun-born were put to the sword
and thereafter has Atlantis stood alone."

"There is a war going on?"

Cho shook his head. "Not yet. The motherland has been
dangerously drained of her old strength, having given so
generously to her children that she is nearly a ` hollow
shell. Her best men and materials have been spread
among the colonies. But now the Poseidon,,

; grandson of that first devil worshiper, ,is ready to rend
the veil of peace. He mouths his defiance-which is one.
reason why I stand here-"

"You were captured in a fight?"

"No, I had not that much satisfaction. 4 was sent hither to
the Barren Lands to search out any secret forts or
strongholds of the Atlanteans, places where their vessels
may hide between raids. We were on a scouting
expedition ashore when we were ambushed by pirates.
Learning my rank, they did not slaughter me out of hand
but sold me instead to this Red Robe for three swords of
Chalybian forging and four emeralds. More perhaps than I
would bring in the open market of Sanpar, the accursed,
where the Witch Queen rules the` scum of all nations.
That was at dawn this morning."'

"What will they do with you?"

"Should I escape the altar of Ba-Al, it will be to rot in their
dungeons-or so they reckon. Three ships of ours have
vanished during one moon, and none of their crews
escaped. But if the Flame will favor me-" He stopped
abruptly.
3

SOMEONE was descending the ladder into the rowing
pit. Ray heard the clink of armor and the thud of more
than one pair of boots. Two of the hunters passed before
him carrying a polished bone-clean skull with huge
antlers-the elk's? They lowered their burden to the
deck and went away. But the officer behind them
remained, stooping to cover the skull with a cloth. A
hurried thought message reached Ray.
	"Stand ready, comrade! If you are freed, make for the
corner of the deck in the shadow of the ladder. If I
cannot join you, dive for the sea. It will be far better
than aught this ship offers-"
	Cho had not asked if he could swim, thought Ray.
But the Murian's gaze was on the officer, and under
that steady regard, though the Atlantean did not lift
his eyes to meet it or seem aware he was so watched,
his movements grew less certain. He fumbled a little,
and then he did look at the prisoners. As his eyes at
last met Cho's, he arose slowly. He might have been
moving under compulsion.
	Held by the Murian's stare, he came to them, one
slow step at a time: Stopping before Ray, he plucked at
the iron ring holding the American's right wrist. Then,
after the arms were free, the Atlantean went down on
one knee to unfasten the ankle rings. But all this time
the officer worked by touch alone, his eyes held by
Cho's. Ray stood free. He hesitated only a moment
before he sped to the shadow the Murian had indicated.
Then he turned. The Atlantean was now loosing Cho.
	Suddenly the officer jerked upright. He shook his
head and raised his hands uncertainly to his forehead.
Ray shifted from foot to foot, hands on the rail. It was
apparent that whatever had made the Atlantean obey
Cho's wishes was failing. Could the Murian reassert

mastery? Maybe. The officer was stooping again to the
ring.
	Then he swayed. Recovering balance, he smashed
his fist into the Murian's face. A second vicious blow
split Cho's lips. Ray leaped, but not for the sea.
	"Go! The guard comes-"
	The American lost the rest of that order as he attacked.
His arm crooked about the officer's throat; he dragged-
him back and struck sharply against the base of hi&
skull. As the Atlantean fell, Ray clutched at the sword
in his belt, bringing its heavy pommel down against,
the owner's head.
	"Go-" ordered Cho again.
	Ray made no answer. He pulled at the rings and use
the sword blade to lever them open.
	"Come on!"
	Together they ran for the corner by the ladder. Cho
struck open a port.
	"This is for a flame thrower. Let us hope it is also
wide enough for us. Through with you! Can you swim?"
	"A fine time to ask. But yes, I can."
	"In with you then. And try to stay under the surface
for as along as you can."
	Ray wriggled through, a tight fit, scraping his bare
shoulders. Then he was in the water, and automati-
cally his arms and legs moved.
	"Follow me!" He caught sight of a white body.
	Blood pounded in his head. He must breathe, he
must! There was an arc of pain banding his ribs. Just
when. he thought he could no longer stand it, he came
up into light and air. Before him a smooth shoulder cut
waves, and he took that as his guide. The muscles of
his back ached; the water stung in his face and in the
scrapes on his shoulders. He had swallowed some, and
it made him sick. But he swam on, though' his strokes
were uneven now. The shore-the ship-he could sight
neither, only sometimes the swimmer ahead.
	Doggedly Ray fought to keep moving, his head above
water, limiting time to the next stroke. If only he could
rest! Little thrills of pain shot along his legs; heavy
weights seemed suddenly to have been attached to his arms.

His knees bumped painfully on a harsh surface rock. Gritty
sand puffed up between his feet. Exerting all his remaining
energy, he threw himself forward, to be seized and pounded
on by the surf. With his mouth sand eyes filled with sand,
coughing and retching, Ray crawled out of the clutch of the
waves and lay face down on a beach.

Presently he stirred. The stinging salt in the cuts on

- his face and body were an irritant that brought back a
measure of consciousness. Sun seared him as he blindly pulled
himself up to look about.

A little to his left Cho lay, partly in a rock shadow, his head
pillowed on his arm. Ray sat up straighter and began feebly to
brush the coating of sand from his body. Then he crawled to
the Murian, took him by the

' shoulder, and tried to rouse him.

"Come on-we'd better get away-" Ray croaked. "They'll send
a boat, pick us up again." It was a little s hard to believe they
had had any success, even this far.

"There is no need." Cho had yielded to his urging hand and
was sitting up to look seaward. "The sons of Ba-Al go-"

' Ray shaded his eyes with his hand against the glare
q	of sun on the water. Oars flashed along the sides of the
	vessel. Incredible as it seemed, with their escaped
	captives almost within reaching distance, the Alanteans
	were making no attempt to come after them but were
	heading out.

"Why--?

"Because the hunter comes-"

Ray's gaze followed the Murian's pointing finger. Far out, just
sliding over the horizon, was a needle-like shadow.

"From the fleet. And these scavengers would avoid direct
battle with such. Mark how they change course to flee."

The Atlantean vessel was veering sharply to the east. If the
newcomer continued on its present course,

there would be a wide space between them, increasing all the
time.

"Will the Murians go after them?"

"No. To initiate attack is forbidden. We can defend if they
strike first; that is all. But they cannot be sure of that, so they
flee an enemy equal to themselves as rats do when the farmer
sets torch to field weeds." Cho laughed but with, little
amusement.

"But the Murian ship-why?"

"It comes for us."

"How do they know?"

Cho spread his hands in a gesture of bafflement. "How can
one explain? Are men of your time so ignorant of ordinary
powers? Is it possible to live so crippled? Yet, it seems that
you do. I have been calling with the mind ever since I was
taken. At last my men: heard; now they come."

"Calling with the mind?"

"As I speak to you now without words. You must: learn our
tongue, though, for it wearies one too quickly to draw ever
on the inner power for ordinary matters. It is so we can call-
to those who know us, are seeking us in return." He sighed
and then asked a question. "Why did you not do as I bid and
leave when my control over the Atlantean failed?"

Ray flushed. "What did you think I would do? Just cut and
run?"

Cho eyed him intently, but what he thought he did not
broadcast. When he spoke again, it was of a different matter.

"See, the dwellers in the Shadow have placed their, receiver on
the highest notch. They are not minded to be overhauled but
run like beasts before hounds."

Oars no longer fringed the sides of the vessel; yet,` that sharp-
prowed ship was disappearing eastward with what seemed to
Ray an amazing burst of speed. The Murian cruiser did not
alter course to intercept the enemy. Still it stood in for the
shore, high enough out, of the water now that an orange flag
could be seen.

"Now they must take to the oars," Cho murmured.
Scarlet-painted blades ran out, dipped, sending the vessel on
at a slower rate of progress. In color the ship was a clear
silver-gray, and it cut the waves into foam with majestic
pride-though to Ray's eyes it had a curious half-finished look
without masts. When it reached the former anchorage of the
Atlantean vessel, it heaved to, and a boat was lowered. It
was quickly manned and headed for the shore.

A last powerful swing of oars sent the small craft through
the surf, the two men jumped waist-deep to guide it in. Ray
studied the newcomers with keen curiosity. It .was plain
these tall young men were of a different race than his late
captors. Their skin, beneath the golden wash of suntan, was
fair, and their long hair shaded from white-blond to
mahogany.

Tunics of leather covered them, and each wore a sword.
Jewels glistened and flashed from armlets and broad collars.
And they moved with a kind of light grace that Ray mentally
associated with practiced Judo fighters he had known in his
own time.

But they cast aside all dignity as they surged forward to Cho,
laying hold on him as if he were something precious they
had lost and feared never to see again. After greeting them
all, he turned to Ray.

Keeping his eyes on the American, he reached an empty
hand out and made some request. Instantly the leader of the
boat party drew his sword and laid its hilt in Cho's hand.
The Murian planted the point of the blade deep in a patch
of sand between the American and himself. Then he caught
Ray's right hand in his, drawing it to rest with his on the hilt
of the upstanding sword.

Still gazing intently at the American, he chanted a sentence
that was taken up by the men behind him. Then the leader
stepped forward, a short dagger in his hand. He pricked the
wrists of both men so that two small trickles of blood
mingled on the sword hilt.

"Thus do I claim you sword brother and shield mate, new
son of my mother's courtyard, one blood with my house
henceforth-"

The words of the oath burned clearly in Ray's mind.  He
knew an instant of hesitation, the feeling that if he accepted
such kinship, he was stepping through another door. But
even as that warning doubt pricked at him, another portion
of his mind denied it and reached almost greedily for what
might be security of sorts in an alien world. Was any
acknowledgment expected of him? He could see this was
some formal rite, which might carry-that inner warning
shrilled-more responsibility than he could guess. But he
answered aloud:

"Yes." And he knew Cho understood.

For the second time Ray was in a ship's long boat. But this
time Cho was beside him. And he was no prisoner-or was
he? Had he really any choice? Against that wariness warred a
feeling of expectancy, which continued as he followed Cho
up the ladder, over a deck crowded with men who cheered
the appearance of the Murian, and down into a large cabin.
And the cabin then claimed his full attention.

By the standards of his own age, Ray suspected, it might be
considered barbaric because of the lavish use of precious
metals and bright colors. Yet' it was not Oriental, nor did it
follow any "native" style of art he had ever seen. And he did
know a little about art through his photography.

Around the walls were panels of a dead-black wood, which
were inlaid with intricate designs, combining gem stones
with bright paint or enamelwork. Between these hung long
curtains of brilliant fabrics. A table of the same wood as the
panels occupied the opposite end of the cabin, with long
benches on either side and a high-backed chair at its head.

From beams overhead swung two balls of rosy light,
encased in filigree globes. The chains from which the
pendants hung swayed with the motion of the ship, so that
the light appeared to wax and wane.

As Ray halted to stare about him, Cho went to the table. He
poured liquid from a flagon into a stemmed goblet, listening
meanwhile to a young officer he had
introduced to Ray as Han. Suddenly the Murian put down
the flagon with a click and uttered a sound of protest. Then
he glanced back at Ray.

"We have been recalled. This northern sea and that of the
east are closed, which means-"

"War?" Hazarded the American. One world or another, one
time or another, he thought dully, war seemed to be ever-
present.

Cho nodded. "If and when the Re Mu wills. But now we
go home." He turned to Han, apparently asking more
questions.

Ray felt a steady vibration creeping through the walls and
the deck of the cabin. He steadied himself with one hand
against an inlaid panel, suddenly not sure of his balance. He
was eying one of the benches as a more secure base when
there was a sharp movement from Han. The young officer
flung up his arm as if to ward off a blow; his mouth
twisted in pain. Then, with only an inclination of his head to
Cho, he turned and left them. Cho soberly watched him go.

"Lanor was his sword brother, and Lanor fell beside me
with a pirate dagger in his throat. Han eats sorrow this day.
But that debt will not go unpaid. We shall remember it
when we stand sword to sword with those of Ba-Al, and
the accounting then shall be a -just one. Now, do you eat
and drink. Then we shall sleep-for no man can do well
empty and weary."

They drank, a wine Ray thought, from finely wrought
goblets. And they ate from plates that were works of art,
though once he saw what they held, Ray was more
interested in contents than containers. It was only when he
was satisfied that he raised his eyes to the wall of the cabin
behind Cho's head and saw that the panels there were three
in width and the design on them was not a decorative
pattern but had meaning-a map!

Ray leaned forward, his breath coming faster as his eyes
followed shorelines on that unbelievable map. Some of it-
but how little-was familiar. There were two continents, one
north and one south, but bearing only a vague resemblance
to those he had known. The

Mississippi, the Ohio, most of the north-eastern and
southern portions of the North American continent were
now under sea, while Alaska was linked firmly to Siberia.
The heartland of Brazil, to the south, was a landlocked
ocean. To balance the drowning of lands he knew, there
were two new continents-one east, one west-so that the
map was now roughly diamond shaped, a land mass at each
corner.

More than anything he had seen during the past two days,
that map drove home the sharp lesson of the change.

"What is it?" Cho set down his goblet and put out his hand.
What the Murian read on his face, Ray did not know, but in
some measure his shock must have been mirrored there.

"That-that map!"

The Murian looked over his shoulder. "More decorative
than useful, I fear," was his comment.

"Then-then that is not this world?" The American breathed
more freely.

"It is, except that it is not a chart by which to set any ship's
course. In mass it is right enough. See"-Cho went to the wall-
"here are the Barren Lands." With a fingertip he traced the
remaining part of the Ohio Valley north. "Hunters come
here, outlaws, but there are no regular settlements. It is too
harsh a hand to attract many, only those who have need for
a wilderness in which to hide or those who have a desire to
explore a little. Now, we are about here-" His finger moved
down into the sea. "We head south-to cross the Inner Sea-"
Swiftly his finger moved to Brazil. "This is Mayax, loyal to
the motherland, strong and rich. Then we go through the
western canals to the western ocean and thence to Mu-" His
goal was the land mass to the west.

"And Atlantis lies to the east," Ray stated rather than
questioned.

"True. Is this so different from the lands of your own time
that you find it fearful to look upon? Why should that be
so?"
"Because"-Ray hunted for words-"because it is hard to
believe that a man may walk about his ordinary business in a
land he knows well one moment and the next be elsewhere,
where all is different. All that shows as sea here"-it was his
turn to approach the map-"is land for me. And it is densely
populated with many growing cities-too many. Men are
finding that expanding population a threat. And here, this is
also land-" He set his palm over the sea of Brazil. "But
there is no Atlantis, no Mu-only ocean and scattered islands-
"

He heard a small gasp from Cho. "How long, how very
great a time must separate our worlds, brother! Such
changes on the face of a planet do not come easily. You
have spoken of Atlantis as a tale in your world. Do they then
have an ending for it? Or do they speak of Mu, the
motherland?"

"There are stories of Atlantis, supposed to be tales only, with
no fact. It is said to have vanished beneath the seas in tidal
waves and earthquakes because of the wickedness of its
people. This ocean in my own time is named the Atlantic
because of the persistence of an old belief that Atlantis lies
somewhere beneath it. Of Mu. I never heard."

"What did you do in this northern land of yours, brother?
Were you a warrior? When you brought down the
Atlantean, you used a strange blow such as I have not seen
before."

"For a while I was a warrior. Then there was family trouble,
and I was needed at home-"

"Needed at home- But now-when you cannot go home-?"

Ray shook his head. "That need is past." He did not want to
think about that. "I was about to return to the army when
this happened to me. New buildings were being put up on a
government project." He did not know how much of this
Cho would understand but felt a need to put it all into
words. "When they started to clear the land, there was
trouble because of an old Indian mound. People protested
against its being leveled before it

could be properly investigated. Les Wilson-a man I know-
was trying to get them to wait. He was writing articles about
it, and he wanted some good photo shots of the mound. I
promised to take them. And I was doing just that when-
when I found myself in a forest of the biggest trees I'd ever
seen. That's the whole story. And I still don't know what
happened or why."

Cho looked puzzled.  "Shots of an Indian mound," he
repeated slowly, as if completely bewildered.

"A machine-a camera of our time" Ray explained. "You use
it to take pictures of objects, a very popular way of keeping
visual records. And the Indians-they were native of this
north continent whom my people found in possession of
the country when they came from the east to colonize it
about four centuries ago, four hundred years. Some of the
early tribes, who had already vanished before the first settlers
of my blood arrived, had built great mounds of earth that
still  remain, and we study them, trying to learn more about
the people who made them."

If the world is so much older in your time," commented
Cho slowly, "there must be the remains of many, many
vanished peoples from which you can learn."

"Yes, in many places there are ruins and old tombs of long-
forgotten races. Some races we know of only by a few
scattered stones, which say that man once built something
there. That and no more-"

"You have a liking for this pursuit of those gone before?"

Ray shrugged. "I'm no archaeologist, but there is a kind of
treasure-hunt lure to such searching. And I have read much
about it.  I had a lot of time for reading a while back." Once
more he pushed away the sharpness of memory.

"Brother, I might try to say many words to you"-the Murian
regarded him soberly-"but words cannot banish thoughts,
no mater how well they are intended. You fight now upon a
field where no sword brother, however well meaning, can
stand at your right hand or al
your left, for the battle is yours alone. But to each day its own
evils. Forget this for a space if you can"-he spread out his
hand upon the map-"and let us sleep."

Ray followed him behind one of the curtains to a small side
cabin, where there were two bunks. Cho was already
stripping off the remaining rags of his water soaked tunic.

" `Rest while one can' might well be the slogan of all during
these troubled days. What man can say what a new morning
will bring?"

Reluctantly Ray crawled into a warm nest of soft covers. His
eyes closed, but there was no rest for his thoughts.

"Well, what do you have?" Hargreaves slumped in the chair.
A dark sprouting of beard accentuated the shadows under his
eyes, and he blinked slowly, as if the effort to keep them
open and focused properly was almost beyond him.

"We know the man now. He's Ray Osborne. Wilson put him
up to coming out to take some pictures of the mound. He's
an acquaintance of Wilson's, does part-time photography for
the local newspaper."

"Newspaper!" Hargreaves burst out hoarsely. "Just our luck
to have a newspaper mixed up in this. We need that about as
much as an N-bomb!" He fumbled with a cigarette pack and
threw it from him savagely when he discovered it empty. "I
suppose Osborne's disappearance is already burning up the
wire services east and west."

"Not yet. We have that one small piece of luck, or edge.
Osborne wouldn't have turned in his shots until this morning.
I notified Wilson that we've confiscated them and Osborne is
under arrest for trespassing," Fordham returned.

"In the name of Judas, why? That'll bring-the whole pack
down on us, yapping about freedom of the press and all the
rest they cry about!"

The director shook his head. "No. They've all accepted the
idea that this installation is top secret. Our

-story is that Wilson sent Osborne in, knowing it was closed
territory-that he tried to pry. That buys us time, as Wilson has
been warned about breaking security before. Luckily
Osborne was a loner-"

"How much of a loner? Let Wilson get his family stirred up
properly, and some lawyer will be out here in an hour, baying
at the gates."

"This much of a loner." Fordham picked up a slip of paper
from the desk and began to read:

"Ray Osborne, son of Langley and Janet Osborne, old .
family here in the valley, but no relatives now closer l than
second cousins. Born in 1960, which makes him around
twenty now. Had one year of college, then drafted. Served
overseas six months. Specialist in unarmed combat and
scouting, interested in photography. Ten months ago his
parents were in a traffic crack-up, his father killed, his mother
badly injured. The Red Cross got him a hardship discharge, as
there was no one else to take care of her. He came back .here,
took a part-time job, and looked after his mother who.. was
an invalid. A month ago she- died. He told the . editor at the
paper that he intended to go back into the service. He has no
close friends; his army service and the circumstances of his
mother's illness broke off most of his past relationships. Was
a-quiet sort of chap, did a lot of reading, hiked about the
country taking pictures.: Sold some of those. No trouble, well
accepted, but' nothing strong for or against him in town."

Hargreaves sat up a little straighter. "Well, if we had to send a
man out wherever this one went, we're in luck that it was
Osborne. No family, no friends, to make trouble. I wonder

. He stared at a wall it was obvious he did not see.

"Yes?" prompted Fordham after a long pause.

"You say he told people he planned to re-enter the service. I
think it can be set up that he did. So now, let. the papers go
through and he's our man; then we can hold the whole story
under wraps while we move in to get him. Because the brains
really want him-ands badly. With what he'll have to tell us,
he's worth more,
than twelve space platforms and one moon station.
We've got to get him back and pump him, pump him
down to the last breath of air he took out of wherever
he is!"
"If we can-"
	"We have to; that's orders. Don't worry. They'll send
you every man, every bit of material you need to put it
through. We have to get him back. Do you realize that
we're on the trail now in a direction the Eastern
powers have never prospected? This is ours alone!"
	"And if he's dead?"
	"Then we have to get his body anyway-"
	"We can probably get the beam on again soon. But
that merely opens a very limited area. What if he's
traveled miles away? There'll be no way of tracing
him-"
	Hargreaves loosened his tie a little more so it lay in a
stringy loop on his rumpled shirt.
	"They're working on that now in another way. You
get the door open, and maybe they'll have figured out
how to find our man by that time. But Lady Luck had
better ride with us on this one!"

A DREAM of trees, of running along a long moss-
grown aisle between their huge boles, pursued ever
by what he could not see- Ray awoke. Outside the
narrow porthole that gave on the sea, it was night. The
other bunk was empty, his cabin mate gone. Yet this
time he had awakened with all senses alert, knowing
just where he was, as if, beneath that disturbing dream
from which he carried only a wisp of memory, some
acceptance had been at work. This was the present,
and it was as real as the fabric under his hands as he
raised himself on the bunk.
	He reached for the kilt he had thrown aside when he
had lain down but found other clothing. Fumbling with
unfamiliar buckles and fastenings, he dressed. The
sandals were light on his feet as he knotted their
thongs clumsily about. his ankles. Then he went into
the outer cabin.
	The rosy light was stronger with the coming of
darkness. There was no one there. Should he go on
deck or wait? His momentary hesitation made him
aware of the polished surface of a mirror, and on
impulse he went to face it.
	A stranger, thin, with a sun-reddened skin and un-
ruly brown hair, stared back at him. The scant gray
tunic revealed a body that, for all its leanness, prom-
ised endurance. Buckles of silver, thickset with small
green stones, glittered on his shoulders, and a belt
patterned with the same gems encircled his waist. But
he was suddenly shy and ill-at-ease. This was not Ray
Osborne. And the confidence with which he had
awakened began to fade. As he turned abruptly from
the mirror, someone entered the cabin.
	Ray's eyes widened. This was certainly Cho, but the
Murian was now no bedraggled fellow prisoner. A
red-gold tunic clung to his body. Jeweled armlets
encircled both wrists and upper arms. His sword belt and
the hilt of the weapon that swung from it glittered icily. The
long hair was swept back and held by a metal band from a
face where there was still the imprint of bruises. Like the
cabin and its furnishings, his splendor held something of that
exuberance of color and ornament that Ray's time deemed
barbaric.

The Murian laughed. "So-you look astounded, brother.
Does dress do so much for a man? This is what is due my
rank. Nor"-he surveyed Ray critically-"does our garb suit
you ill. True Murian you look, or will when your hair grows.
It is over-short for a free-born warrior. And now-food!"

Cho clapped his hands, and a man in a plain tunic entered
with a tray. The Murian waved Ray to the table, where
covered dishes and goblets were being set out. It was
difficult, if not impossible, for Ray to identify the contents of
those dishes. He had eaten earlier in a daze of hunger and
weariness, knowing only that it was food. But now. he was
more attentive. There was a stew and a platter of roasted
meat already cut into bite-size portions. Small cakes were
dipped into individual bowls of thin jam. And with it all, a
tart wine.

The Murian sighed when they had finished. "We lack only
fresh fruit. But that is not for a ship's board these many days
out of port.  You rested well?"

"I dreamed-" Ray did not know why he said that, and he
was startled at the sharpness of Cho's response.

"Dreamed of what, brother?" There was such a note of
command in that that Ray answered readily.

"Of trees, such a forest as I found when I came into this
time. Of running between them and behind-"

"Behind?" The Murian was still peremptory. "Behind what?"
he asked again as Ray did not reply at once.

The American shrugged. "I do not know what, except that I
ran from it. No matter, it was only a dream-" He was
surprised the other seemed to take it so seriously.

" `Only a dream'-why say you that, brother? Dreams are
spirit guides for any man. They forewarn; they

show the feelings our waking minds do not know. Do not
the men of your time think any upon the meaning of
dreams?"

"Not like that. Anyway, it was perfectly natural for me to
dream of running from some mysterious danger in that
forest, seeing as how all this began for me there."

"Perhaps you are right." But, Ray thought, Cho did not look
convinced. "Shall we go on deck?" the Murian said.

He held out a cloak and then took up another for himself.
The moon hung round and full above the ship, its clear light
cut now and then by a drift of clouds. The oars were
inboard, yet the ship drove on, though no sail was set. Ray
realized that the ever-present vibration of the fabric of the
ship must come from some motorized form of propuls.
Cho had gone to stand by the steersman, and now Ray
joined him.

"What drives the ship now that your oars are in?"

"This-" Cho answered readily, leading the way down to the
waist. On the aisle between the rowing benches was a half-
open hatch, and Ray looked down into a small metal-walled
cabin. Apu, Cho's second-incommand, adjusted levers on a
box that hummed and droned with life and from which
spread that vibration.

"Our energy receiver. Waves of energy are broadcast from
land stations and picked up by ships. It cannot be used close
to shore or in harbor, and in some of the older ships not
even in the Inner Sea. Oars serve them there. Each vessel is
assigned a certain wave length from which to draw, and then
only at stated times, unless there is an emergency-"

Han came along the deck with a message. Ray began to find
his ignorance of the spoken language irksome as Cho
translated for him.

"There is a ship to the west. But it cannot be one of ours,
for the recall went out long ago. It may be a pirate -or
Atlantean. We shall not try to speak it, lest we provoke attack-
"

He was interrupted by a cry from Han. Far out in the
black of the sea, an orange light curved up from the surface
of the waves. Cho shouted an order, and an instant later an
answering green glare sped from the bow of their own
vessel. The light out on the sea dimmed and then glowed
red.

Cho was calling orders. Ray moved back out of the way of
the men, who were running to different stations. Now their
own green beam became pearl-white, turning the night
ahead of the ship into day but leaving the ship itself in the
dark. That glow across the water turned white in answer.

A little of the tense rigidity left Cho. "It is one of ours.
Atlantean ships cannot counterfeit that signal. We must learn
its mission and why it lingers here after recall."

Their beam of light became a series of flashes. When the
other replied in kind, Cho read it for Ray. "Ship of the fleet,
Fire Snake, disabled in storm. Can move by oar power only.
Who are you?"

"Signal them aid," the Murian said to Han. And this time
Ray, to his surprise, understood his words.

Again that distant light flashed.

"Ship badly disabled. We cannot make the Inner Sea. The
Sun-born Ayna says farewell-"

Once more Cho gave orders. Their own ship changed
course to the west, centering on that beam.

"We shall take the crew on board and then sink her," Cho
said. "There can be no lingering to nurse a cripple with the
wolves of the Red Land out! Little fortune for the Lady
Ayna to so lose her first command-"

"A woman commands a ship?" demanded Ray.

"But of course. All the Sun-born have a duty to the Re Mu.
Perhaps a lady will one day be sent as his mouthpiece to
some colony. How then may she order the fleet for such an
undertaking unless she has already commanded a ship?" Cho
asked in-surprise. "Is it not so with your people, brother?"

"No. At least not in my nation."

"Many must be our differences. Some day we shall compare
them. This Lady Ayna is of the house of the

Sun in Uighur. I have never met her but have heard of her
wisdom and courage. And she will destroy her ship with her
own hand, if that must be done."

They sped on, that guiding light ever brightening Han still
shot flashes from their own ray, answered at intervals from
over the waves. Suddenly Cho shouted to Apu tending the
receiver. Then he said to Ray, "They have been sighted by a
raider. It will be a race as to which of us will reach her first."

Waves boiled from the knife-edge bow in milky foam. On
deck men stood to battle stations with tall shields, swords
loose in scabbards, and some busied themselves about squat
machines.

Now they could see the Fire Snake bathed in the light of her
own signal ray. She lay low in the water, her waist deck
almost awash. And out in the dark somewhere must be the
raider creeping in for the kill.

Cho's commands passed along from officers to men. Ray
could make out figures on the doomed vessel,: shadows
flitting across her slanting deck. Her small. boats were being
slung into the water. Then all but one pushed off, heading
for Cho's ship. Cho pointed to the one remaining.

"That waits for the Lady Ayna-she must destroy, her ship."

Over the deck, now awash, darted a slight figure, to; leap to
the waiting boat. With mighty strokes the rowers sent the
small skiff surging from the side of the sinking vessel. There
was a moment of silence while, by the aid: of the light still
on the deserted deck, they could see the boats racing toward
them. Then a column of purple flame flowered upwards,
filling sky and lapping sea with angry brilliance. With a roar it
and the Fire Snake disappeared.

The first survivors were already climbing over the rail of
Cho's ship, and the commander went to welcome them. At
his coming the strangers cried about some slogan and raised
their arms in salute. Then came an officer. He reached back
to aid one who followed, and the Sun-born Lady Ayna
stepped upon deck.
She was slight, no great beauty, but she carried herself as
might an Empress of Ray's imagination. Her dark hair was
bare of helmet. A band of pearls about her forehead, the
ends twisted in her braids, proclaimed her rank. She wore a
knee-length tunic and over it armor for breast and back.

"Hail, Lord Cho!" she said clearly. Her voice was low, but it
carried well. "Since the Fire Snake sails no more, I crave your
favor for these, my men."

Again, to his astonishment, the speech was clear for Ray,
though he was sure she was not mind-beaming it to him.

Cho raised fingers to forehead in return. "The Lady Ayna,
Sun-born of Uighur, need only make known her wishes.
This ship, its men, are at her command."

The girl laughed and lost some of her defensive dignity. "Let
us then be gone, Lord Cho, lest even worse befall. One of
the Red Ones noses in, lured by our signals."

Cho nodded and gave an order. The Lady Ayna beckoned
forward her officers. "This is Hek, this Romaha."

In turn, Cho introduced his men. Last of all the Murian's
hand fell on Ray's shoulder, and he drew the American
closer. "My sword brother-Ray-"

The Lady Ayna smiled. "Happy am I to greet you, my lords,
though I could wish mightily that we met at a more
fortunate time and for a better reason. Atlantis comes to war
openly it seems-"

"The recall would bring that to mind, yes. Will you grace our
cabin?"

With the sure step of one at home on shipboard, she went
down into the great cabin, where Cho led her to the high
chair and called for wine.

"Can it be true-that they dared to take the White Bird in an
open attack?" She sipped at the goblet Cho had offered.

"That is the reason given for the recall. If so, they must at last
bring upon themselves the full wrath of the Re Mu."

She frowned, turning the goblet around in her, fingers." The
dwellers in the Shadow will discover that, though the mother
has long been patient, there comes. an end to forbearance.
They will not soon forget--thos' who survive it-the
punishment to follow. Is it true, Lord Cho, that you were
prisoner of the Red Ones? Such a message reached us."

In answer, the Murian held out his hands. Still to be seen
about his wrists were the marks of bonds. "Ten days did a
pirate have me, then I was sold to the Atlanteans-"

She gasped. "So it is true! They dared to lay hands upon one
of the Sun-born, using him as if he were an outlaw, a man of
no house! How did you then win free?":

"With the aid of the Flame, working upon their dark minds-
"

Her eyes shone. "Yes! That they have no answer for, . much
as they have tried to find one. The Ba-Al: himself is
powerless against it. So you escaped-"

"Also by the aid of my brother." Again he touched: Ray's
shoulder. "For I was near drained with weariness, and at the
end I could not hold the power. But he had me free in spite
of that."

"After you had first freed me," Ray corrected.

At his words the Lady Ayna started to give him her full
attention. "Who are you who speaks no tongue of any land
of ours? From what ship came you, Lord Ray?"

"From no ship-" 		_

"Then whence? I know of no colony in the Barren Lands-"

"Throw -h time, from the far future, I think. I know it;
sounds impossible, but it must be true. There is no' other
explanation. I was in my own time, then suddenly I was in a
forest, and then I was captured bye Atlantean hunters. They
took me to their ship-where -Cho already was."

She continued to eye him narrowly, as if she could read his
mind, weigh and assess his every thought. "This is truth. I
have heard the Naacals speak of such
journeys in the temple schools. But none who have ventured
forth to test it have yet returned to us. And you are not like
unto us- So you have come a long way, and you have ill-
chosen your time, or chance has ill chosen it for you."

Ray wondered at her calm acceptance of what he

.	considered still a most improbable explanation. What
	sort of reception would a Murian suffering the same

A	fate have received in his own world? He flinched away
	from imagining it. Maybe he was lucky.

The Lady Ayna arose. "My thanks for your aid this night,
Lord Cho. Now I must report to the motherland.

j:	Have you a cabin for my body rest?"

Cho parted the wall curtains and showed her a waiting bunk.
She entered and stood for a moment, one hand ready to
draw the drapery behind her. "Good

_-	fortune to us all, from this hour forward." Then she
	allowed the tapestry to fall into place.

An lour later Ray crouched shoulder to shoulder with Cho at
the bow of the Wind Ruler. Their heavy

a	cloaks were damp with spray. The moon was hidden by
gathering clouds. But they knew, though they could not see it,
that somewhere in the dark a raider was attempting to cut
across their course.

"Dare we carry that attack to them, tooth and claw, they
would slink away like the cowardly carrion eaters of the
plains. But to fight, while we are alone in a sea

;- they now claim, would be deadly folly. For all we know,
they but scout for a pack, a fleet that would be down on us
as the condors of Mayax gather to a puma's kill."

"What if they attack?"

The Murian laughed shortly. "Let them but try that."

All the crew had stood to arms when they had sought the
Fire Snake. Even though the Wind Ruler was now back on its
former course, the shield wall stood, the machines were in the
open, and men kept their battle stations. Now, at another
order, there was a faint ringing, and on the sides of the
rowers' benches screens arose level with the planking of the
upper decks. Next to Ray was a long tube projecting from a
box, and three

sailors stood to duty there. An officer, one of the Lady
Ayna's, came to report.

"Yes, all is in readiness," the Murian said. "The men of the
Fire Snake did not join us empty-handed but brought their
own flame throwers. They mount these beside ours. We need
only send up the battle flare. Then the raider will blunt its
teeth upon death!"

Cho went from bow to stern, Ray behind him. As he
progressed, the Murian inspected the preparations, but when
he reached the afterdeck, he paced back and forth, twisting
the border of his cloak until the fabric split in a long tear. Ray
tried to see through the dark.

"If they would only come in," he muttered. Long ago, or so
now it seemed, and very far away in space (he could think of
this world better as divided from his own in space), he had
been trained for war. Not this kind, but battle did not greatly
differ. And even as he spoke those words, he knew the
answer-waiting was an age-old weapon used by many men in
many places during the centuries.

"That is just what they will not do," Cho continued. "Well do
they know the value of forcing waiting upon their enemies-
waiting until the first sharp vigilance relaxes ever so little. Then
comes the attack. We must keep an untiring watch. If I ever
cross the five walls those sons of Ba-Al use as their shields
and meet them face to face with their backs to those same
walls and no hole for them to bolt through-then shall all
waiting be done and every moment of this night paid for. But
those clouds across the moon-Sun forbid we have mist and
fog in the morning!"

Ray glanced at the lowering clouds. "Those mean bad
weather?"

"Perhaps. We can only hope the Sun will not forsake us.
Come-let us see to the foredeck again."

Planking had been laid across the rowing benches in the waist,
making a new deck, which seemed firm enough. This space
was filled with an orderly complement of men, quiet now for
the most part. On the bow deck three of the tube and box
machines were now in
place, their crews beside them. And there was a soft light

"No sight as yet, Sun-born," reported a lookout.

Once more Ray was puzzled by his ability to understand. But
this was no time for questions.

"Nothing-" Cho repeated as if to himself. "Fog at daybreak,
think you?"

Han held his head high, seeming to sniff the wind, studying
the clouds across the sky, then glancing at the waters.

"Mist for sure, Sun-born, rain perhaps. I fear we must sail by
director alone."

Cho struck the rail with his fist. "A cover under which that
raider can creep unseen!"

"Yes, Sun-born. But for us also a cover-if fortune favors us."

Cho turned briskly. "Just so it must be. They may draw their
net to find it empty. But never must we underrate them, nor
think that fortune smiles wholly upon us. And I believe that
none of us will breathe easier until the shores of the Inner Sea
close about us."

"Truth in your words, Sun-born. The Atlanteans know all the
tricks of the father of all Shadows, and evils are thought-
spawned from him."

"Be it so." Cho's tone was stark and cold. "Even if fortune
chooses to fail us and we be taken, the last and mightiest
trick lies still in our hands, to be used at our bidding alone.
The Sun-born Ayna pointed the way for us this very night."

"You mean-blow up the ship?" asked Ray.

"So would we go Sunward in all honor, taking many of the
enemy with us to a final judgment. No ship of the
motherland must fall into their hands while one of the true
blood lives. And such an end would give us cleaner, swifter
passage from this world than any Atlantis would grant a
prisoner, as well we know."

The Lady Ayna came to join them. "You stand to arms,
Lord Cho?"

"To await the raider. It will come." He nodded to the sea,
certainty in his voice. "You have made your report?"

"I have told of the loss of the Fire Snake, and the Great One
was approving of what I have done. The Re Mu sends
greetings and bids you haste, for no aid can be sent if we are
attacked." She hesitated. "But something then happened,
Lord Cho, and this gave me fear-"

Her voice was lower, and Ray saw she clutched here cloak
about her with hands on which the knuckles had .' whitened
with the fury of her grasp.

"I-I was cut off!"

Cho swung around, his expression one of amazement.
"What do you mean?"

"My contact with the motherland was broken-and not by the
Re Mu. Never before has such a thing happened."

"How broken?"

She shivered as if the warmth of the cloak was gone and the
wind chilled her to the bone. "It was as if a, black curtain
was drawn. When I thought a question-._ there was no
answer. I waited for twice around the silver rim of the
timekeeper and tried again. There was no response, not even
from a shore watcher in one of the Mayax temples!"

When Cho remained silent, she added, almost pleadingly,
"What can it mean?"

The Murian's face was closed still, as if he were thinking so
deeply that he did not see her or any of his... surroundings.
She put out a hand to touch his arm, and he started under
that contact, light as it was.

"What--what is it?" she asked again.

"It may mean that those of Atlantis have tampered.' with the
Sacred Mysteries to discover the secret of the Sun-born-" he
said.

She shrank away from him as if he had spoken some
monstrous thing. Han exclaimed aloud. But Cho's eyes were
blazing.

"Those soon-to-be-dwellers-in-the-outer-dark-and-cold!
That they should so dare! But the Re Mu will have been
warned when it happened. This means that the door of the
inner power is closed to us. If we must fight,
we will not dare to call on anything save the might of our
own arms and weapons, lest we open to them what we
would die to protect."

The Lady Ayna regained a measure of her former
serenity, or perhaps it was control. "What man may argue
with fortunes But we can be worthy of that entrusted to
us. And one does not speak of defeat before the battle is
joined." Now she smiled at Cho as if she did not wish him
to take her words as a rebuke. "Let me try once again-but
if the raider comes, I ask you to summon me." She left
them.

Cho looked to Ray. "It seems that you have truly been
drawn into a net. This quarrel means nothing to you. And
safer by far would be the empty plains of the Barren
Lands than these waters when the Red wolves are out!"

He was very right-this was no quarrel of his, Ray thought.
It was settled, it must have been, eons before his birth.
Yet, there was something else- At the time it had been
only words, a ritual of another race. Now it was a thing
Ray remembered and held to.

"You said to me, when our blood was mingled on the
sword hilt, that we were brothers-"

"That is so!"

"Then does it not follow that we share battles also? It
seems that though I come not here of my own will, yet
now I do have a choice-and I make it thus- Having no
country any longer, I stand by friends. I think I have those-
"

"There is no need to ask that!" Cho returned.

"And I have also enemies-out there-" Ray gestured to the
sea. "So I choose-"

Cho nodded. "May you never regret it, brother."

"Amen," Ray thought, but he did not say that aloud.

5

"SO they have blacked out your radio," Ray hazarded,
putting his own interpretation on what he had just heard
from the Lady Ayna.

"Blackout-radio?" Cho returned.

"Yes, your communication system."

"You think of a machine to do this?" Cho smiled. "I had
forgotten how little you know of us. We need no machine
to communicate with the Re Mu, we of the Sun-born. In
times of stress even certain of his higher officers are
trained by the Naacals to accept thoughts, just as my mind
can now touch yours. This was the manner in which the
Lady Ayna reported the loss of the Fire Snake. Only those
born with such powers, or those trained in them, can do
this."

"Then how can the Atlanteans interfere with telepathy?"
Ray asked. He could believe part of this after his own
experiences.

"That we must discover. None but those .trained in the
thought-send could do so, and of that number all were
known. Or so we believed until tonight. We knew that the
Red Robes had something like unto it, but we thought they
could not interfere with the true sendings. But now-they
can! The Re Mu and the motherland will never know our
fate here in the north unless we win through to Mayax. In
all our history such a thing has never happened, nor did we
believe that it could!"

Slowly the sky was lightening in the east, but only to a
leaden gray, and a cold drizzle came, piercing the warmth
of their cloaks, to make them shiver.

"Mist and rain as Han foresaw," Cho observed. "Let us
hope the sons of Ba-A1 find it as difficult to sight us as
we shall to see them. Come, let us break our fast."

Below deck they found the Lady Ayna huddled in the seat
at the end of the table. Her face under the rosy
light was haggard. She forced a wan smile and then
shook her head in answer to Cho's unvoiced question.
	"Their wall remains, my lords. If we fight, it will be
alone."
	Cho dropped heavily on the nearest bench. "So be it.
But perhaps it wilt not come to that. The Flame will-
ing. Let us have food-" He clapped his hands for the
serving man, and the Lady Ayna sat up straighter.
	"The ships of the motherland are famed for their
provisions. Uighur cannot serve forth the dainties of
Mu. Or so I have been told by our officers who have
returned from tours of duty there," she commented.
	"Where is Uighur?" Ray asked.
	She turned her head to stare wide-eyed at him. Cho
went to the map set in the cabin wall. He pressed his
fingers to a spot in its frame, and part of it moved to the
right, hiding a portion of Atlantis. This revealed at the
left the rest of Mu in the Pacific and, beyond, the
coastline of the Asian mainland, but one very different
from that Ray had known. Again the sea swept far into
what would be China, and a portion of the Gobi Desert,
and the highlands of future Tibet formed a new shore.
This Cho indicated.
	"Uighur."
	But the Lady Ayna continued to stare at Ray. "How is
it that you know not Uighur?"
	"For the same reason that two days ago I did not
know Mu either. I am from another time, remember?
We had no memories of Uighur there."
	"But of Atlantis-" Cho said slowly. "Why should the
Red Land carry as a legend into the far future when all
the rest is gone? What did they do, those followers of
the Shadow, which set so great a fire blazing in their
time that its warmth and smoke went on down untold
centuries?"
	The Lady Ayna's eyes were bleak. "I can think of one
kind of disaster. What did your people know of the Red
Land, Lord Ray?"
	"That it lay in the ocean as a continent, an ocean in
our time unbroken save for a scattering of small islands

to the far east and west. That it sank in a combined
earthquake and tidal wave as the result of some evil
doing on the part of its inhabitants."
	"A lost land. And did they ever seek it in your own
time-strive to find remnants of it?"
	"They tried so hard that they proved scientifically it
had never existed at all. It was supposed to be purely a
legend."
	The serving man brought in a tray, and they began
to eat, with need dictated by hunger. But Ray glanced
up often at that map and wondered. Why was it that
remnants of such a civilization as this had not existed
somewhere to bear out the truth of legend? True enough,
the world he saw on that chart was greatly altered
geographically from that of his own time. But certain
portions remained the same. And all-every fragment-
of a high civilization could not have vanished so
completely.
	"The raider is in sight!" Han stood in the doorway.
	Ray's spoon. fell back into the bowl before him,
splashing the contents. Cho crossed the cabin in almost
one leap, but the American was close on his heels as
they reached the outer deck.
	"There!" Han pointed to a black shape in the mist.
	"To stations!" Cho shouted.
	Someone joined Ray at the rail-the Lady Ayna. She
ought to stay below, he thought, and then remembered
that she had commanded a similar fighting ship, knew
more about such matters than he.
	But the raider appeared not to have sighted them in
turn, for it stayed on course, slipping back into the fog.
Even after its going, the tension on the Wind Ruder did
not lift.
	"She will be back," promised Cho. "Now she tries to
scent us as might a hunting panther sniff a trail.
See-she returns!"
	He was right. Again the sharp bow of the other ship
cut the curling mist. She had come part way around,
and the Wind Ruler was closer. He found it hard, Ray
discovered, to think of that sinister dark wedge across
light was haggard. She forced a wan smile and then shook
her head in answer to Cho's unvoiced question.

"Their wall remains, my lords. If we fight, it will be alone."

Cho dropped heavily on the nearest bench. "So be it. But
perhaps it will not come to that. The Flame willing. Let us
have food-" He clapped his hands for the serving man,
and the Lady Ayna sat up straighter.

"The ships of the motherland are famed for their
provisions. Uighur cannot serve forth the dainties of Mu.
Or so I have been told by our officers who have returned
from tours of duty there," she commented.

"Where is Uighur?" Ray asked.

She turned her head to stare wide-eyed at him. Cho went
to the map set in the cabin wall. He pressed his fingers to
a spot in its frame, and part of it moved to the right, hiding
a portion of Atlantis. This revealed at the left the rest of
Mu in the Pacific and, beyond, the coastline of the Asian
mainland, but one very different from that Ray had
known. Again the sea swept far into what would be
China, and a portion of the Gobi Desert, and the highlands
of future Tibet formed a new shore. This Cho indicated.

"Uighur."

But the Lady Ayna continued to stare at Ray. "How is it
that you know not Uighur?"

"For the same reason that two days ago I did not know
Mu either. I am from another time, remember? We had
no memories of Uighur there."

"But of Atlantis-" Cho said slowly. "Why should the Red
Land carry as a legend into the far future when all the
rest is gone? What did they do, those followers of the
Shadow, which set so great a fire blazing in their time that
its warmth and smoke went on down untold centuries?"

Tine Lady Ayna's eyes were bleak. "I can think of one
kind of disaster. What did your people know of the Red
Land, Lord Ray?"

"That it lay in the ocean as a continent, an ocean in our
time unbroken save for a scattering of small islands

to the far east and west. That it sank in a combine(
earthquake and tidal wave as the result of some evil doing
on the part of its inhabitants."

"A lost land. And did they ever seek it in your own time-
strive to find remnants of it?"

"They tried so hard that they proved scientifically i1 had
never existed at all. It was supposed to be purely a
legend."

The serving man brought in a tray, and they began to eat,
with need dictated by hunger. But Ray glanced up often at
that map and wondered. Why was it that remnants of
such a civilization as this had not existed somewhere to
bear out the truth of legend? True enough, the world he
saw on that chart was greatly altered geographically from
that of his own time. But certain portions remained the
same. And all-.every fragment-of a high civilization could
not have vanished so completely.

"The raider is in sight!" Han stood in the doorway.

Ray's spoon. fell back into the bowl before him, splashing
the contents. Cho crossed the cabin in almost one leap,
but the American was close on his heels as they reached
the outer deck.

"There!" Han pointed to a black shape in the mist.

"To stations!" Cho shouted.

Someone joined Ray at the rail-the Lady Ayna. She ought
to stay below, he thought, and then remembered that she
had commanded a similar fighting ship, knew, more about
such matters than he.

But the raider appeared not to have sighted them in, turn,
for it stayed on course, slipping back into the fog. Even
after its going, the tension on the Wind Ruler did not lift.

"She will be back," promised Cho. "Now she tries to scent
us as might a hunting panther sniff a trail. See-she
returns!"

He was right. Again the sharp bow of the other ship cut
the curling mist. She had come part way around, and the
Wind Ruler was closer. He found it hard, Ray discovered,
to think of that sinister dark wedge across
the water as another ship, bearing men such as those now
standing silently about him. There was no sound of voice,
only the swish of foaming waves from their own bow as
the Wind Ruler held to her course.

Then, as if she had known where they were all the time
and had been playing at cat-and-mouse with them, the
raider changed course a fraction more and made straight
for the Murian vessel.

Calmly Cho gave his orders. "Apu, keep us on course, full
speed ahead, no matter what chances. We must make a
running fight of it. Use flame throwers, Han, only if we
come close enough to be sure they will hit. Hold all fire
until the command."

Officers scattered to their posts, Hek and Romaha from
the Lady Ayna's command taking their place in the waist.
The soldier-servant came from the cabin with three shields
of reddish metal and long cuffs of the same. Cho slipped
the cuff over Ray's left forearm and showed him how to
clip the shield fast to that.

"These are a defense against flame throwers," the Murian
explained. "Should you see one of those black tubes, such
as our men wear now at their belts, in use, keep up the
shield. I do not believe this raider carries death-breathers;
raiders seldom do. We shall hope not, for against those
there is little defense."

Wearing his own shield, Cho went to the wheel. "A night
and a day will see us into the Inner Sea-and freedom from
all pursuit."

The Lady Ayna shrugged like one tossing off a burden.
"Then," she answered almost gaily, "what have we to
fear? Surely we of the true blood can keep the followers
of the Shadow off that long. See, even now they waver as
if fearing to attack, though they have come into position to
do so-"

Indeed the dark ship appeared to hesitate, though the mist
was so distorting, half revealing, half concealing, that this
might only be illusion. But it seemed to Ray that the bow
of the raider did swing a little to one side as the Wind Ruler
continued on course. The Lady Ayna was right, the
headlong advance of the

enemy checked, swinging farther away. They passed it,
now near hidden in the fog, unchallenged.

"They fear us! They dare not test the might of the
motherland in open battle!" exulted the girl.

Cho shook his head, plainly ill at ease. "I do not like it. By
all the rules they should have attacked then. But they
turned aside-"

"What can any raider hope to do against a ship of the fleet
ready and willing for battle?" she returned. "It is merely
that the captain over there is a man of sense. They may
skulk about, seeing if their Ba-A1 will give them some
small advantage, but they will not risk fronting our bared
teeth-"

During-the next two hours, it seemed as if she were right
in her reading of the situation, that the hovering ship feared
to press the Murian vessel openly. The raider stayed just
within the curtain of the mist, in sight, keeping pace with
them, but did no more.

Han, however, shared Cho's mistrust of that slinking
menace. Now and again he looked up from the wheel,
glancing almost apprehensively at their unsought
companion. And so it continued until high noon loosed a
watery sunlight through the clouds.

Cho ordered food served to the men on deck. And they,
too, ate where they stood, ever on guard.

"It may be that they wait for night and the dark to favor
them." Cho brushed crumbs from his fingers.

"Let us also yearn for that, Sun-born," replied
Han.:"Engaging at night is a chancy thing. Escape may be
ours-"

Cho flung back his cloak. "Not so! She is coming up!"

The raider was moving in with a darting speed. Ray, drew
the sword Cho had given him and looked curiously: at the
burnished blade. This was no weapon to fit his hand: He
held it awkwardly and ran his finger downy one of the
keen edges. His mouth was dry, and he found himself
swallowing too often. At last he slammed that weapon
back in its sheath. His bare hands and knowledge of
infighting might serve him far better now. But in spite of
his training in his own time and
place, this was the first real war he had ever faced. Around
him the crew made preparations with quiet efficiency,
adjusting their weapons. He envied them their knowledge
and the skill that gave them both occupation during this wait
and a defense when the test came.

"Remember, the shield is for protection," Cho cautioned.

Ray nodded grimly.

Then, as sudden as a squall in the tropics, came the

attack. From the bow of the raider shot a green ray,
bright even in the sun, striking the side of the Wind
Ruler. Ray caught the scent of burning.

"Too low!" cried the Lady Ayna.

Inch by inch that green light crept up to where the Murians
waited. Cho's fingers dug into Ray's arm. "Your shield-
behind it!"

Ray swung the shield across his body, crouching a little
behind that barrier which suddenly seemed very light and
useless. The beam slanted across the deck where they
stood.

One of the men stationed by a death-breather screamed
horribly. Convulsively he flung out his right arm. On the
bare skin, writhing as might some loathsome reptile, was a
patch of vivid green. The- sailor screamed again, flinging
himself back from the machine he served, falling to the
deck close to Ray. Instinctively the American started
forward, hand half out, but Cho's grip jerked him back and
away.

"No! We can do nothing. He is' already dead, and it will
attack any other living flesh."

The man shrieked once more and then lay still, the others
edging away from his crumpled body.

"See-it seeks now other victims, having fed once," Cho
hissed.

That splotch of green, no longer seeming part of a beam of
light, but something far more tangible, with an evil life of its
own, wriggled from the arm of the dead man, fell upon the
planking, lengthened into a snake, and began to inch along.
Han leaned over the

wheel. In his hand was a pear-shaped crystal. As he held it
out, a spark of fire shot from it to strike directly-: upon the
serpent light. There was a shrill hum that. hurt the ears and
the green thing was gone, leaving at blackened smear on the
deck, from which arose a tiny] curl of smoke.

"That--that was alive!" breathed Ray.

"Not as we know life," Cho returned. "That is one of the
favorite weapons. They will try again--

Once more the parent beam came from the raider, this time
aimed much higher. It struck upon Han's shield, to cling
there, as if it struggled to find a way through from behind
that metal barrier. Baffled, it withdrew, only to strike at the
rest, one by one.

When it reached Ray, it was a weight pressing him back, so
that he retreated a step or. two in surprise, before standing
up to what was really no great force of pressure. The rim
of the shield was in close contact with his body, and behind
it he braced against something that writhed, turned up and
down, and tried to find some crack in the metal through
which to reach him. Then it was gone, and the beam swept
along the metal screen protecting the waist and came to the
foredeck. But nowhere did it find a second victim.

As yet the Wind Ruler made no counterattack, which led
Ray to wonder. Nor did it deviate from the course or
slacken the speed Cho had ordered. The raider had fallen a
little behind now, as if the need for launching that beam had
slowed it. But with the failure of its first blow, it plowed
ahead to launch a second, which came in a rain like patter.

Ray looked down. Inches from his feet two small slivers of
metal stood point down, still quivering. Ha cried out; another
such sliver hung from his shoulder Cho leaped to take the
wheel.

"Loose the death-breathers!" he ordered.

One of the sailors near Ray steadied the tube on the box,
while his companion inserted therein a ball of an unhealthy
yellow color. One of the men bore down on a small lever.
	The yellow ball rose almost lazily into the air, swung
up and out to the raider, and crashed upon her bow
deck. There was a puff of saffron smoke. The raider
swung quickly, but the smoke crept back along her
deck, a cloud thicker than the fog that had veiled her
earlier. It hid all but a small portion just above the
waterline.
	Cho passed the wheel to one of the sailors. "That-
that was against all orders, except for dire necessity.
How is it with you, Han?"
	The officer leaned limply against Ray, who had moved
in to his support. His face had a sickly greenish tinge
beneath sea tan. The metal sliver must have carried
some deadly poison.
	"Another must take duty, Sun-born-I-"
	His full weight slumped against Ray, and the Amer-
ican shed his shield to ease him to the-deck. Cho took
him into his arms, supporting his head.
	"Grieve not for me-I go to the Sun. Light a candle
from the Flame-for-"
	His head rolled against Cho's chest, and the Murian
touched his sweat-beaded forehead gently. Then he
looked to the raider, dipping and rising in the waves as
if there was now no sure hand on its wheel.
	"You have paid, followers of the Shadow-but the
payment will be asked again, and yet again! This do I
swear by the Flame! Han's true and lasting blood-price
shall be collected in the Five Walled City itself! It may
not be this year-but it will come!"
	Ray helped him wrap the dead. officer in his cloak.
When they arose, the sailors were gingerly picking the
metal darts from the deck, gathering them with careful
attention not to touch their discolored points. But for
the sailor who had died of the green fire and for Han,
the fight might never have taken place.
	"Sun-born! Look to the raider!"
	They had drawn away from the other ship, leaving it
wallowing in the waves apparently without direction.
But now it was answering to some competent hand

again, creeping forward, though not with its former`
speed, to follow them still.
	"How can this be?" cried the Lady Ayna. "The'
death-breather-it should have killed all on board!"
	"They must possess defenses of which we know
naught," Cho replied. "But it appears they are crippled.
Give us until late tomorrow and we are free. But if they
bring by signal another of their kind-"
	"Yes," the Lady Ayna echoed him, "there remains
that. See, they creep it is true, but they do not leave
us."
	The Wind Ruler had drawn a length ahead of the;
dark raider. Still now that ship fell in behind, keeping;
the same course. A crippled hound, plainly, yet one
that had not given up the hunt. And there was some-
thing uncanny in that determination.
	Night came early under a cloud-filled sky. And still-
the silent Atlantean vessel pursued them, nosing along
sullenly with perhaps not the will nor the power to:
draw level with the Wind Ruler again. The Murians
hoisted a white running light, but there was no answer
from across the water. However, their own illumina-
tion spread across the waves, making sure an enemy.
boarding party could not come upon them unaware.
	Ray rubbed his smarting eyes, strained from too
much watching astern. Like those about him, he had
not discarded the tall shield, and its weight cut more
and more heavily into his arm muscles.
	Sometime late tomorrow, Cho had said, they would
be at the entrance to the Inner Sea and could expect
aid, if they must have it, from the forts at the inlet.
	That black shadow by the wheel was Han and the
sailor, sewn into their battle cloaks, ready for day-
break burial. And still the dark and silent enemy:
plowed in their wake.
	The Lady Ayna had gone below, but Cho had taken
the wheel and Ray elected to wait as long as the
Murian kept duty. He had never been so tired before---or
so it seemed. Nor, he had to reluctantly admit to
himself, so afraid. Hand-to-hand combat, even steel to=
steel, a man could brace himself to face. But the crawling
green fire that had something akin to life and a rain of
poisoned metal thorns had no equal in his past training. His
fingers curled as if about a rifle-a weapon eons away.
That, grenades-mentally he made a list of what he wanted
now in place of the useless sword weighting his hip.

At last Cho relinquished his post to a crewman and spoke.
"Rest now."

In the cabin there was no sign of the Lady Ayna. Ray put
aside the shield and pulled off his sodden cloak. He saw
Cho stumble to the nearest bench and half collapse against
the table, leaning forward, his head on his arm.

His own head back against the wall, Ray closed his eyes.
A moment earlier he had wanted nothing but sleep, to
close his eyes and forget everything. But now, against the
dark of his lids, he saw-trees! Rank after rank of them,
towering into the sky with limbs beginning many feet
above his head. Between them were shadows that flowed
to and fro like the wash of restless waves. And deep
inside him a faint uneasiness stirred weakly. He knew a
small, faded desire to walk under those roof-high
branches, deep, deeper into the shade of the trees.
Somewhere within them was the gate, the rent in the
fabric of time, and if he could find it, he would return

The trees grew darker and darker until trunks, branches,
and restless shadows were all one and the same. And in
Ray the wish to return to the gate was stilled. He slept at
last.

There were five men now in the director's office instead
of two. But one of the five held the attention of all.

"I can promise you nothing, gentlemen. Psychophysics is
as much of an experimental program as this `Operation
Atlantis' of yours."

Fordham put down his pipe. "I know there're a hundred
different experimental programs in existence-"

"Put that in the thousands, and you'll be closer to the truth,"
said the first speaker.

"All right, thousands then, Dr. Burton. And, tell me this:
does anyone know what's being done-the all-over picture?"

"They have the reports-"

Fordham smiled wearily. "Who reads them? Probably
several different committees. But does anyone ever try to
coordinate the whole picture any more?"

"Probably not, until something such as this happens and
there is a state of emergency," the other agreed.

"Now, do I understand you right, Dr. Burton? You believe
that you might have a way to influence our man to return
to the point of recall-through some mental process?
Always supposing Fordham does get his door-or whatever
you want to call it-open again?" the man in the general's
uniform leaned forward to demand impatiently.

"Stress that word `might,' General Colfax," returned
Burton. "We've had a few results that have amazed us,
but it depends upon the man tested and the circumstances.
There is this in our favor-this Osborne was suddenly thrust
into a situation for which he was totally 'unprepared, which
would put him under immediate strain. According to his
record"-he picked up the sheet of paper before him but did
not glance at it, rather looked from man to man in the
room-"he has had no contact at all with our type of
training. However, he is said to be a `loner,' which means
he may be self-sufficient to a point, enough not to panic
immediately. What he will, or did, make of his transition
from here to there is anyone's guess. We can only try to
compare him with the controls we have studied.

"He may have lingered about his point of entrance, seeking
a return-if he can possibly have figured out what did
happen. If so, our problem is relatively easy. If he was
frightened enough to run-panic-stricken then we can try the
brain call. I have hopes of that because he will be unique
in that time era. Therefore, always providing he had not
gone too far, we can hope
that a call pattern attuned as closely to the type we think
he may be as we can set it will bring him back."

"A lot of `ifs' in all this," commented General Colfax. "I
say we would be on the safer side sending in a squad-"

"Just suppose you marched your squad through, General,"
Fordham cut in, "into a wilderness such as the North
American continent was perhaps four thousand years ago.
Hunting one man across such country would not be easy.
If Dr. Burton can call him back-"

"If again! What makes you think the country would be so
different?"

"You saw the film," Fordham replied simply. "Did that look
like downstate Ohio to you? Trees such as those-"

"-take centuries to grow, I know," Colfax replied. "And if
the doctor's gadget does not work?"

"Face it!" Hargreaves blinked bloodshot eyes. "We may
never see Osborne again. He could have been dead an
instant after that film was shot. We aren't sure anyone
could survive such a trip. But even if we don't find him,
we'll have to send explorers through sooner or later.
Maybe the doctor's think-beam can help on the next try, if
it doesn't succeed with Osborne."

"When will you be ready?" Fordham asked Burton.

"We haven't gotten anything down to a walkie-talkie size.
No, we'll have to dismantle, transport, assemble again. I
can't honestly give you any estimate. We'll work round the
clock and cut all the corners we can. But it will be several
weeks at least-"

"Several weeks," General Colfax repeated. "I wonder
what will happen to Osborne meanwhile. If he is still
alive!"

6

RAY awoke and lay blinking for a moment or two, trying
to hold onto something carried out of the dreams-
something of importance. But already it was gone. Cho
stood above him, only partly visible in the gray light that
was not clear day.

"It is dawn," said the Murian, as if that statement had
some inner and important meaning.

The American arose, wincing at cramped muscles, to
follow Cho to the upper deck. Fog and clouds were gone.
Around them lay the sea as smooth as those restless
waves might ever be. In the east the sky was rose and
pale gold. But on deck lay two bundles sewn into cloaks.

Cho paused. "Han-my friend-" Then he walked to the rail.
Others raised the planks on which those bundles lay. All of
the crew were there, to Ray's reckoning, standing at
attention as if for review. The banner, which crackled in
the wind from the ship's mast, was now halfway down the
staff.

"sea"--Cho's voice grew stronger with each word" our
heritage from ancient days, open now for these, your sons.
Having performed with honor their duty, they are now at
rest. Shelter their bodies while their spirits abide safe in
the halls of the Sun-"

The boards tilted. Ray heard a catch of breath from the
Lady Ayna. Then the rising sun turned the waves into a
golden glory as the Wind Ruler sped on.

Night, or the gloom of the day before, had been in keeping
with the black shadow of the raider. Ray did not know
why he had expected to find it gone with this new bright
morning, nor even why his surprise at seeing it still behind,
just within eye limit, was so disturbing. It came no closer;
perhaps it could not overtake them. But the crew of the
Murian vessel continued to stand to arms and keep a wary
lookout.
Their conversation was broken at times by long pauses as
they watched their own wake.

"It is all wrong!" Cho set both hands on the rail as he stared
at that distant pursuer. "They are dead; they must be. That
ship is manned by the dead!"

The Lady Ayna caught her lower lip between her teeth, as if
by that pressure alone she could keep from words she
would rather not utter. But Ray answered.

"You may be right; you know the powers you control. But
as long as it comes no closer-" Only he felt it, too, the
gnawing of nerves caused by that ever-present shadow on
the sea that did not move in or give one the chance to strike
back, remaining always a hovering threat, the worse for what
it aroused in one's imagination.

"Yes, as long as it does not come close-" the Lady Ayna
echoed him. "And we must be near the sea gates of Mayax.
Do you know, Lord Cho, I have never seen the motherland.
Even as Lord Ray, I shall visit a strange country, when we
harbor at the City of the Sun. Is it like unto Uighur?" She
was almost chattering, trying to use words to cloak her
thoughts.

Cho gallantly seconded her. He turned purposefully away
from his stern watch. "It is very different. Uighur is made up
of mountains and narrow valleys, but in the motherland
wide fields border broad rivers. The city lies at the mouth of
one such river. Sometimes at nightfall the dwellers in the
courtyards take small craft and go out upon the water for
their pleasure. They sing together, and the harpers play-"

The Lady Ayna sighed. "Thus, in times of peace. Yes,
different from our windswept land where the horse herds
run free and wild to the outposts, beyond which outlaws
struggle with beast-men and devils of the Dark to keep life
within their bodies-"

"Do devils of the Dark then still exist?" asked Cho.

"The skin and long fangs of one were delivered in a packet
of tribute hides the month before the Fire Snake sailed.
Sometimes the youth of the courtyards hunt them. I have a
dagger with the tooth of a devil forming

its hilt. But that devil was slain in my father's youth.=, They
take to the heights and are solitary things, coming out only
when they have a bad year and famine drives them to new
hunting country."

"So. Yet it is told in Mu that all devils were slain; long ago,
being now only in stories to frighten children. , The devils,
Ray, are like-in part-to man, shaggy with heavy hair, yet
walking erect. Their fangs are long and curved thus-the
upper ones, that is. And always they live in high, wild places.
They hunt in the darkness of the middle right. And they leave
great,: strange tracks in the mountain snow-"

"Snowmen," memory supplied Ray. 		,"

"You had them in your time?" the Lady Ayna questioned
eagerly:

"Another legend-still in the country that you call Uighur,
which in my day contains the highest mountain lands of the
world. Your devils have been reported, their tracks seen, but
none have been killed or captured-"

"How odd that this is so," the girl said slowly. "The` devils
known in your time, yet a land such as Mu forgot. how much
else remains?"

"Say rather," Cho broke in, "why do some linger` while
others are forgot? Devils of the Dark-Atlantis--why these?"

The day wore on, cloudless, full of light. It was warmer, so
they put aside their cloaks. And now there were birds above
the waves, which were more of a blue-green. Trails of dark
weed laced the surface of the sea, and once a fish broke
water, rearing its head as if, to gaze intelligently at the passing
Wind Ruler.

"Dolphin!"

The Lady Ayna followed Ray's pointing finger. "Sea dancer,"
she corrected. "So these, too, you know, Lord.. Ray'?"

"In my time they have growing importance. We have=
learned that they are highly intelligent. We are seeking to
communicate with them."
She looked from the American to the dolphin and back
again.

"It is known that the sea dancers are friendly, that they have
been known to aid swimmers in difficulty, and they are
under the protection of the Sun. No man dares raise a hand
to hurt them. But they are of the sea, and while we go upon
its surface in ships, swim in it a little, it is a world closed to
us."

"No, you wouldn't have subs"-Ray nodded-"or scuba
masks or the new water lungs-"

Cho was listening intently. "Is it then that your people have
found a way to make the depths of the sea open to man?
How?"

Ray described submarine activity as best he could. How
men in his era not only traveled in the depths, but how,
equipped with water-breathers, they could roam at will,
more nearly part of the sea than man had been since the first
amphibian had crawled from the waves to begin land-
nourished life.

"But--how wonderful!" cried the Lady Ayna. "Ah, to travel
in the sea! Truly you live in a time of wonders, a time when
man must have the whole of the world open to him! We
have been taught that once war is conquered, this would be
so-"

"War is still with us," Ray replied. "Many of the things we
have learned have come because of the necessity of defense
or attack in war. No, my age is far from golden-"

"Golden?" She repeated: inquiringly.

"Mankind looks back to a golden age when there was no
war and all was peace and happiness-"

Cho smiled wryly. "When was that age then, brother? In our
time, which is a legend to you? No-you see for yourself
how much peace abides with us. In the days of
Hyperborea? We have our own legends, and those speak
only of death and disaster struck from the spark of man's
greed and lust. If there was a golden age-where would one
seek it? In the past---no! We have been taught to look to the
future."

"Which to my time is dark," Ray replied.

"Lord-the signal!"

They turned to look southwest at the foreman's call. f
Against an afternoon sky a white trail mounted up ands up,
making a line across the blue.

"The signal tower of the outer gates," Cho said.

"It would seem that we have won our race after all,", the
Lady Ayna commented.

Ray looked astern. The raider was there, but only: just
visible, as if it had stopped.

It was that, Ray thought, which had kept them` uneasy, the
waiting for some last attack from that' sinister black blot.

The Lady Ayna drew a deep breath. "The air is cleaner for
its going. Look ahead now, not behind. The future still
awaits us."

There was a bustle about them. The metal walls that had
shielded the waist dropped back. The machines of war
were being covered by their crews. Ahead, on a narrow
tongue of land pushing into the sea and ending in a fringe of
rock teeth, was a tall tower.

Cho was giving orders and moving about the deck.

"We will go straight in," he said when he returned. "h shall
not stop at Manoa but head directly for then canals. See,
they acknowledge us with banner salute.":

There were puffs of white from the tower's head;: then a
flag dipped and rose again. The wind pulled it straight for
an instant, and Ray saw its insignia, EL. rising rayed sun on a
green field.

They rounded the reefs, altered course to the west, and
shortly saw another cape to the south. On this stood a squat,
earth-hugging building that had the, look of a fort. Cho
smiled. Some of the strain had gone. from his face.

"We are in now. Let us eat and drink in comfort."

It was still day when they returned to the upper deck. Cho
strode up and down restlessly, paying little"

attention to the others.

"Now we no longer sail alone," pointed out the Lady Ayna.
"That is a grain carrier and, beyond, a merchant
ship from the motherland, and next is a ship of the northern
fleet.

"Some of these have been recalled to lie idle here until the
North Sea is safe again. Others do business in these waters.
But the Inner Sea is always safe-the storms of the north and
the whims of the southern gales are unknown here."

"Why are those turning?" Ray asked. Two ships ahead were
altering course, opening a lane for the Wind Ruler.

"Because we fly that." Cho came up to them. He pointed to
their own flag, its full sun proudly emblazoned on a
crimson field. "They know we bear urgent news, and so the
word has been passed to give us open water."

When dark came, a light was trained upon that banner,
continuing to proclaim their need for swift passage. And it
was accorded them the next day also, even though they
were in the crowded shipping lanes about Manoa's harbor.
This capital of an imperial province Ray saw only from the
sea. But its soaring white towers and pyramids gave the
impression of a long-established civilization.

He discovered during these days that the tongue of the
motherland was becoming his. At least he could understand
easily, though when he replied, his own tongue still twisted
over its clicking consonants and slurred vowels. He
practiced all he could, while Cho also gave him a grounding
in the Atlantean language.

They met with their first delay at the canals to the western
sea. Ray could detect no resemblance here to the continent
of his own time. This backbone of southern America must
ruse in the future to form the sharp spine of the Andes, but
now the only heights visible from the deck of the Wind
Ruler were gentle rolling hills behind the canal port city.

There was confusion on board, a coming and going of
officials. But finally they were passed through, and the keel
of the Wind Ruler slid into the waves of another sea.

"Thanks to the Sun, we are free at last!" Cho returned

from seeing the last port officer overboard. "After what has
happened, I do not like delays, nor do I find port gossip of
high interest."

"The Re Mu-" began the Lady Ayna.

"Yes, to him we must give truth, not words to hide it, lest
alarms spread. And what truth we have is not pleasant. The
Re Mu-perhaps he will see ways in which we might have
done better. His is the wisdom we cannot aspire to. And
this was my first command-"

"Ah, but you return with your ship," broke in the Lady
Ayna.

"Which I might not have done had fortune frowned upon
me as she did upon you. There is no disgrace, my lady, in
failure if one has acted to the best of one's ability-and tries
again."

"How blue the sea," she said abruptly, as if she would turn
her thoughts outward. "It is gray along the shores of
Uighur, and too dark in the north where it washes the
Barren Lands-"

"Why do you call them the Barren Lands?" Ray asked.
"There is wilderness, yes, but they are not barren. There are
forests-" He paused, thinking of trees dark and tall, yet alive.

"Perhaps because no colony has been set there," replied
Cho. "To us of the motherland, they seem forbidding, as if
hiding secrets not for the eye of man."

"Yet it is not so in your time, is it?" the Lady Ayna said.
"Tell us about them then."

He told them of the crowded and crowding cities, of the
ever-pushing population that covered the earth with more
and more dwellings, of superhighways, of airfields, of the
thrusts into space

"You seek to rule the moon, perhaps land ships on other
worlds!" marveled Cho. "Man does so much, yet you say
that all this is still flawed."

"Yes. The more devices man makes, the more death comes
from them. Machines take to the skies, they fall, and those in
them are killed. Or else they sow death as they fly, and
women and children are killed in their homes. Men talk
around the world, but they break
every law they have made. Some of them have greater
wealth than they can reckon; others die for want of bread.
So it is-"

"As it always has been," mused the Lady Ayna. "Yet you are
still men, some good, some evil. Have you ever ridden in
the sky?"

"Yes."

"What was it like?" Cho demanded.

"Like swimming, a little. One can see the world below or be
caught in the clouds-"

"That I would like," said the Lady Ayna. "It would have
been good had you brought such a bird with you-"

Ray laughed. "There are many things I could have brought
that would have been highly useful, but I never thought of a
plane."

He told other tales of his own time as they sailed. across the
western ocean. But the Lady Ayna never tired of hearing of
the planes that took men through the clouds:

"The Naacals should be able to make such," she observed.
"It should be suggested that they seek such knowledge."

Cho was startled. "But one does not suggest matters to the
Naacals; it is for them to decide the paths of wisdom to be
opened to our feet."

"When they hear the words of the Lord Ray, they should be
moved into that path," she insisted. "It would be pleasant to
look down upon the clouds, to travel as a bird-"

Her insistence apparently disturbed Cho. "Ray shall talk to
the Naacals, yes. That is only what will follow when they
hear of this coming. But we cannot make suggestions-"

"Who are the Naacals?" Ray asked quickly when it appeared
that the Lady Ayna was prepared to argue.

"The priests of the Flame who are the guardians of ancient
wisdom and the seekers after new-to teach mankind. They
journey between colony and colony spreading knowledge,
increasing as ever they can our

stores of learning. Many things they tell only to the Re Mu,
and perhaps a few of the Sun-born who are discreet and
have the proper care for wisdom. My mother was so
honored when she became a daughter of the temple after
my father's death."

"I shall enter the temple when my sea duty is done," said the
Lady Ayna.

Cho smiled. "Say you so now, my lady. But I will wager that
within the year you will summon some warrior to your right
hand. Then we shall hear no more of temples-"

Her eyes sparkled, and there was a curve to her lips. "Do
you have the power to read the future as a Naacal or one
who has passed the Nine Mysteries?" Then she swung away
from them and was gone to the inner cabin. Ray looked to
Cho for enlightenment.

The Murian still smiled. "So say all women sometimes-that
they would have naught of us and prefer temple powers. It
is quickly forgotten when the time comes for the marriage
bracelets-"

"We are not too far from Mu. now?"

"We should harbor before nightfall and sleep this night in
my mother's courtyard. I do not believe we shall be
summoned for audience before the morrow, though the
Lady Ayna may go this night."

Within the hour came the welcome call of "Land!" Then the
oars were put out, and the rowers took their places. One of
the officers beat stroke time on a small drum, and they
pulled together with practiced ease.

"Harbor police." Cho indicated a light craft skimming
toward them.

"What ship?" They were hailed from the police boat.

"Wind Ruler of the northern fleet, the Sun-born Cho
commanding, with urgent news for the Re Mu."

"Pass free." The police cutter was already on its way to meet
a lumbering merchantman.

The oval harbor was full of shipping. Heavy merchantmen,
stately passenger vessels, ships of the fleet, barges, and
fishing smacks swung at anchor. And the docks hummed
with throngs of laborers.
city wherein most of a world was stirred into one rare
mixture. And he longed to be able to sort out sounds,
sights, and impressions at greater leisure.
	Cho turned into a narrow, quiet lane, outstripping
their officer escort. He stopped before a scarlet door set
in the left-hand wall.
	"Many thanks for your company and aid, my lord,"
he said, the door already swinging under his sharp
push. Ray hesitated for a moment, and the officer
smiled.
	"All of us know of the Lord Cho. He is a good son to
the Lady Aiee. May you rest in the light of the Flame,
lord." With a salute he was gone.

	Ray entered a large garden, closing behind him the
door Cho had left ajar. There were palm trees and
flowers, and a pool rimmed with mossy marble. Ferns
grew there, reflected in the quiet water. Cho stood by
it, and now he looked to Ray.
	"She is coming-"
	The woman who crossed a lawn of closely mown
grass did not look up but seemed intent upon her own
thoughts. She was as tall as Cho, her skin almost as
fair as the pearls about her throat and the robe she
wore. Her hair was yellow and hung in thick pearl-
twisted braids to her waist. But the calm beauty of her
face was all Ray saw.
	Memory stirred in him, and he could not help what
he did then. He turned on his heel and went back to the
red door in the white wall. He went blindly, seeing not
what was there but what was in his mind. The door did
not yield to his push, however, as it had to Cho's eager
hand. And he beat on it with force enough to bruise his
fist.

	"My son-"
	No words-only in his mind, as it had been with Cho
when they first met. And-somehow-healing flooded
in with those words, pushing away memory. But he
would not turn; he dared not. For the last time his fist
struck against the stubborn panels of the door. He did
not want-he could not turn and face-

	Beyond, the city rose terrace by terrace, such a one
as might have come out of a dream. White flashing
metal, rainbow hues, it built by wall and tower up and
up. The houses and palaces Ray had seen from afar at
Manoa were the rough dwellings of an outpost village
compared to this.
	"There lies the heart of our world. What think you of
it, brother?" asked Cho. "Does it equal the cities of your
age?"
	"I do not think my time holds its equal. In size, yes,
but not in beauty."
	They docked, and Chu-handed over his command to
his second officer. There was an honor guard drawn up
to salute them with swords as they disembarked. Its
officer spoke to Cho.
	"You have made a quick voyage, Sun-born."
	"Three days from the Inner Sea," Cho answered with
some pride.
	"Fair time indeed, my lord. There is a litter waiting
for the Lady Ayna. And you, my lords, are you for the
Lady Aiee's courtyard?"
	"Yes-" Cho sounded impatient.
	The Lady Ayna stepped forward. "It seems our ways
part here, my lords. Surely friends and battle comrades
need no farewells of ceremony. Till we meet again may
the Flame guard you."
	She raised her hand in salute and was gone with her
escort, swiftly swallowed up in the crowd. But the
officer had remained behind.
	"Your commands, Sun-born?"
	"Let us go as swiftly as we may-"
	He opened a passage for them. Ray would have gone
more slowly, trying to see what he could, but Cho
hurried him on. Two or three turns from one crowded
street to another brought them away from much of the
press of traffic. There were still carts, horses, camels,
but many pedestrians. And the range of garments, the
brightness of color, and the difference in races Ray
glimpsed were hard to assess when he was constantly
urged on. It would seem that he walked the streets of a
"Ray.))
	His own name, not as he had feared to hear it in
re-awakened bitter pain, but in another voice. His
hand dropped to his side.
	"Ray-"
	That was such a call to obedience as he could not
push away. Reluctantly, how reluctantly, he turned-
and faced eyes-eyes that were all encompassing. They
saw into him, not just as he stood now but as it had
been for him in the months past. Those eyes reached
across the barrier between this world and his own, and
knew- He was sure that they knew-
	"Ray-" for the third time. This was not a demand
for attention now but a welcome. And there was a hand
on his. He was as aware of that as of those all-knowing,
all-seeing eyes. The hand drew him back into the
garden, and somehow it also drew him in the same
instant over or through another door, unseen but sensed.
For a space Ray was free of the world-of his birth.

"AWAKEN!"
	Ray opened his eyes. He was shaking with cold, an
iciness that struck far into him; yet he was not lying on
a frigid bank of snow. But neither was he on the couch
where he had gone to sleep.
	Bright bars of moonlight, so bright that they dazzled
his blinking eyes, lay across the floor before him. And
under his bare feet that floor was chill. How had he
come into this hall and why did he stand there, one
hand resting on a door latch? He had no idea; he felt
only complete bewilderment.
	"Awaken!" Again that low-voiced command came
from behind.
	He turned to face a robed and cowled figure, half in
the shadow, half in that shattering moonlight. Now a
hand raised to toss back the cowl. Ray confronted the
Lady Aiee. She held up her other hand between them,
and on the outstretched palm a small ball glowed into
life, with a clear white light that for the moment hurt
his eyes.

	"Come-" Her voice was soft, hardly above a whis-
per. She turned as if she knew she would be obeyed,
moving soundlessly along that moon-striped corridor
to a partly open door.
	Within, she placed her ball of light upon a small
tripod, and immediately it sprang to heightened glow,
making plain the room with its chairs, its couch, and a
table heaped with linen book rolls.
	"Hither!" She waved him onto a chair by that table,
and Ray sat down. Still he shivered with the cold that
was not so much a part of the air about him as of some
inner chill.
	The Lady Aiee poured wine into a white flower-
shaped cup. And into the liquid she measured drops
from a finger-1ong vial. "Drink!" She put the cup into his
hands.

Again Ray obeyed. The liquid was warm in his throat,
warmer still as he swallowed. As he set aside the emptied
cup, she came to him, setting her hands one on each
shoulder, drawing his eyes to meet hers.

It was-it was like being whirled away by a force of power
one could neither understand nor control. Ray's feeble,
instinctive resistance was swept aside instantly. What she
wanted of him, he did not know. But she was willing some
answer from him.

At last she broke the contact, the pressure of her fingers
leaving his shoulders. And only when it was released was
Ray conscious of how determined that hold had been.

"What-?" For the first time he dared a question and then was
not quite sure of what he wished to ask. How had he come
into that hall? What did she want of him?

"You were walking while asleep," she told him, "moved by
some force not of your waking mind. I had to learn the
nature of this force, from whence it came-"

"Walking in my sleep! But-"

"You will say you have not done this before," the Lady Aiee
replied. "That is the truth as you know it. Listen, my son.
You have heard that I am of the temple. As such, I have had
training. Your own time depends much upon material
things, upon knowledge where there is proof that a man can
see, hear, taste, or feel. We have other learning, which is not
so easily made manifest. It deals with the unseen, the
unheard, that which can be sensed obliquely but not held out
into the clear light of day.

"But you are not of our blood or of the shaping of this
world, and much that lies within you is new to us. You may
have powers we do not know, experienced as we are in
such matters. Forces we do not understand you can bend to
your will. With one of my people, sleepwalking is the sign
that they are under control. It can be an evil thing, and the
victim must undergo cleansing in the temple-"

"Under control?"

"Moved by the will of another. And this is a thing the sons
of the Shadow do."

Ray shook his head: "I am no Atlantean. I have told the
truth."

The Lady Aiee nodded. "That I know. To one of the
temple, the touch of the Shadow is like fire soot on a man's
face. And had you been possessed against your will, then I
would have learned it when I `read' you a moment ago. But
something stirred you to walk while one part of your mind
was at rest. And that is important to learn. It may be that
your own time still has ties upon your spirit and would
reclaim you. Or it may be-PP

''What?'' It all sounded plausible when she spoke, though his
training and background made him question it as having no
more validity than the moonlight in the hall had substance.

"That something else strives to use you. When you were
taken by the Atlanteans, one of their Red Robes looked
upon you, did he not? And those who took you gave to him
the possessions you carried when they made you prisoner.
Thus he has a mental picture of you and, in his hands, things
that you have worn close to your body. From so much a
strong quest-mind can build even more. But if that is the
case, then you are safe for a while. The draft you have just
taken will make you no longer a target for such a searching
and invasion. And those in the temple will work for you."

"But--that's witchcraft! It doesn't really happen! Like sticking
pins in a doll and imagining your enemy is going to suffer-"

There was such a sharp intake of breath from her that Ray
looked up. "What know you of pins and dolls and ill-
wishing?"

The warmth had gone out of her voice, leaving it remote
and unfriendly.

"Stories of my time in which men of sense do not believe."

"No? Then they are fools and not men of sense. The
old powers must be nearly forgotten. But certain forces
do come to the call of an ill-doer. Do not disdain old
stories, man out of time, for in them lies a core of fact.
There is light and there is dark in the world, and to
each certain men incline. If they are willing to pay the
price-for each demands a price-then certain know-
ledge and the power to use it becomes theirs, by de-
grees of hard learning. Those who have not the learning
see a few material objects and believe that is the whole
of the matter, not knowing they should cringe and flee
from what lies behind those playthings. And in this
time those are not playthings. Listen and believe.
Scoffing might cost you your life!"
	Ray was impressed in spite of himself. She believed
so implicitly in what she said that he must accept it as
a part of this life.
	"You think that perhaps that Atlantean priest was
trying to get at me some way? But why?"
	"For such reasons as you yourself can list if you
think. You are far from stupid. First, you are a new
element that has been tossed into an old quarrel at a
time of crisis. And such are ever to be treated warily-"
	"But I'm just one man with no particular skills-"
	She lost some of her remote withdrawal. "One man
before this has upset the balance, turned the tides of
history into a new way. What you carry in your mind
may be of service to those with whom you choose to
stand. That is one reason to lay mind-control upon
you-though to try to do so in the very citadel of the
Sun shows audacity beyond belief. On the other hand,
you are among us, accepted and secure. Thus could you be
eyes and ears for them. No"-she must have read his
expression aright-"do not be angry. It would be to
their advantage to have this so without your conscious
knowledge. Perhaps"-she frowned now-"in my con-
cern I did ill. It might have been better to have watched
and waited-"
	"To see where I would have gone?" He caught her
thought. "If I try it again-"
The Lady Aiee shook her head. "You will not now, at

least for a space of days. Did I not say that the draft cut-
you free from influence? But those in the temple will;:
know more than I. Now"--once more her hands were'.
on his shoulders, this time drawing him to his feet-"do.'
you return to your bed, where you will sleep well, ands
in the morning you will awake refreshed with a mind
at peace."
	Had that meeting been a dream, he wondered, when]
he rolled over on the couch and felt the warmth of the;
sun strike across his head and shoulders? Yet it clung,
to his mind in sharp detail as dreams do not do, almost
as if it were a warning.
	"Ho!" Cho came in. "Rise, brother. Not only food but
a fair morning awaits!"
	They swam in a pool with silver sand at its bottom
and an array of fantastic, leering monsters carved
about its rim.- Then they dressed in silk tunics.
	"Your hair grows," Cho observed. "That is well.
free-born warrior does not go cropped as a debt-server."'
He combed his own long locks and fastened them with;
gemmed clips at the nape of his neck.
	The Lady Aiee was already seated at the table on the
terrace above the garden when they joined her. She
crumbled small grain cakes in her hands and threw the
bounty to a flock of brilliant birds on a stone walk
below, laughing at their greediness. To Ray as well as
Cho, she offered one of her hands after brushing off the
crumbs, and the American tried to copy the Murian's
grace in kissing it.
	"A fair morning, my sons. But it cannot be spent as
one wishes-"
	"A summons?" Cho asked quickly.
	"Just so-to the palace. Mayhap afterwards we can
show Ray something of the city." But it seemed to the
American that she watched him gravely, as if her
thoughts were serious. Did she still think that he
might be a threat to all this, an unconscious spy in
their midst? Ray lost the- small exultation he had felt
since waking. There might be no cloud across the sun,
but a ghost of last night's chill crept up his spine.
Cho began a quick coaching of what must be done
according to court etiquette, and Ray forced himself to
concentrate upon the other's words. It would seem that the
Murian Emperor did not live in such state that semiprivate
meetings such as they were now summoned to attend were
ordeals, yet there were forms to follow.

The Lady Aiee interrupted her son after a moment or two.
"Ray, the Re Mu is like unto no other man of our world,
nor, I believe, of yours. He is truly one set apart, the selected
of the Sun-born, having undergone during his training such
ordeals as no ordinary man can face. Our rule does not pass
from father to son, as is sometimes true in the lesser
kingdoms, but to the best man of the next generation, after
careful selection, of all the Sun-born blood. He who sits on
the Sun throne is indeed the one of us who had proved his
right to hold all power in his two hands. Be not uneasy
before him. He sees much deeper into truth and falsehood
than other men, and the honest man of good heart is
fearless in his presence."

Was that again more than reassurance-a warning? Ray could
not tell. But there was no retreat now, and, as far as he
knew, he was honest. Ray was startled at his own thought.
Why should he question his honesty? Warnings-witchery-
push :them out of one's mind, concentrate only on what
had happened. He had a straight story, and every word of it
was the truth.

They went in curtained litters, not a mode of transportation
Ray fancied, but one that was dictated by custom. And there
was an escort from the palace to clear a path and see their
trip was made as quickly as possible. When their bearers at
last put down the litters, Ray emerged in a courtyard where
a fountain played. Before them was a flight of stairs up
which the Lady Aiee led them, Ray falling in a step or two
behind at her left, as

Cho walked to her right. To the sentry at the top, s'gave 
their names, and he stood aside before--the en-

trance to a hall.

At its far end hung an ivory-colored curtain and beside it a
gong of beaten silver, with a mallet of the

same metal. The Lady Aiee struck the gong twice, and
before the murmuring echoes had died away, a voice from
beyond the curtain spoke.

"Enter, Aiee, my daughter, with the son of my brother's son
and the stranger from beyond."

They came into a larger chamber where there was no use of
jewels or metal to break the ivory walls and flooring. Above
them the roof was a dome, its center open to the sky, and
directly below that opening were four men. Instead of the
brilliant silks Ray had seen before, three of them wore long
white robes, such as he had seen on the Lady Aiee the night
before, the cowls thrown back as capes. And they were
aged, stooped, their hair as white as their robes.

The fourth man sat a little apart. His tunic was yellow, his
belt of that reddish metal of the shields that had protected
them in battle. On his head was a crown in the form of a
sun disk surmounted by a nine-headed serpent.

The Lady Aiee went to one knee before him; Cho and Ray,
less agile, followed her example.

"Greetings, Aiee. And to you, Cho." The dark blue eyes of
the man who ruled most of the world were now turned on
Ray. "And to you, also, stranger, who has come so far a
journey. Come you hither-" He arose from his chair and led
them to the other end of the room, where benches of ivory
were cushioned with silk. There he waved them to be seated
facing him.

"The Lady Ayna had much to tell us-" he began.

Ray could not help staring at the Emperor. Those dark eyes-
like the Lady Aiee's, they seemed to see not what was
directly before them but what lay behind outward
appearances. They were old, very old, with wisdom, such
wisdom as the American had never encountered in his own
time and place. Yet the man could not be of more than
middle years.

The Emperor was looking at Cho. "You felt that this raider
was a strange ship?"

"After two of my crew were slain, we released the death-
breather. Though it enveloped the ship, yet still
it followed us. It was as if those aboard were not dead."
One of the Naacals had drawn nearer, and now he spoke.
"In our knowledge that weapon has no defense. They must
now possess wisdom we have not."

"If so, I fear they have paid such a price for it as will lie
heavily on them in days to come," the Re Mu replied. "They
are to be pitied-" He paused and then smiled faintly. "You-
have done as was right, Cho. And now-" Once more those
eyes were turned on Ray.

"I think you have already done us some service, man from
the future, when you freed Cho from the Atlanteans.
Perhaps you have powers beyond our knowledge, strengths
strange to us. But why do you throw in your lot with Mu?"

"My own world is gone. As for aiding Cho, first he aided
me. Otherwise-I do not know." Then after a moment Ray
added, "Is it possible for me to return to my own time?"

The Re Mu turned to the priest, and the Naacal answered in
a high, thin voice:

"Had the youth come to us by dream, even as we ourselves
visit other times in spirit, perhaps this would be so. But to
go in body, that is a different matter. None of us who have
ventured to do this have ever returned."

"I believe that this truth you must accept," The Re Mu said.
But his eyes probed deeper, deeper, for a long moment
before he added, "Your given name is Ray, which is like
unto our word for the Sun power, a potent sign. Tell me,
what thought you of this Atlantean ship that should have
been a dead hulk, yet still came after?"

"That it was evil."

"So agree all of you. I, too, believe that it contained evil.
And to face new evil is a thing to think long on." He fell
silent, and when he spoke again, his voice held a formal
note.

"Let this youth be numbered among the Sun-born, even as a
son of our house. The duties of that station shall be his, for I
say unto you now, my son, among us duties far outweigh
rights. And it may be you will

discover our world a harsh one. Learn of it what you: can,
even as it shall learn of you."

It seemed that their audience was concluded and; they were
free to go. Once more in the outer corridor,' away from the
actual presence of the Emperor, Ray tried to understand
what had been the reason for the Re Mu's impact on him. It
was not the Murian's physical bearing, fine though that was,
nor any great wisdom in his words. It was rather what he
did not do or say but what was ever behind him like a great,
billowing cloak, which made him a figure of awe and
veneration. .;

They returned to the litters and their waiting escort. The
Lady Aiee was smiling.

"Since we are no longer on summons," she said, "I have
asked that we be taken to the marketplace that Ray may see
the busy heart of the city."

It appeared proper now to loop back the curtains of the
litters, or so Ray assumed when Cho did so, and he could
see more of the city. The streets were wide and well paved,
with stone-rimmed beds of flowers and small trees
ornamenting them at intervals. Then, at the edge of a circle,
they came to a halt, and the Lady; Aiee dismissed escort and
litter bearers with her thanks.

Ray saw some in the crowds more plainly dressed than he
and his companions. But there were none in rags, nor did
any appear to be less than well fed.

"The flower sellers-" Lady Aiee indicated a side.; way that
was a riot of color. Cho went to one of the: booths and
returned, after a moment or two of bargaining, with a small
bouquet giving forth a sweet fragrance, which he presented
to his mother. She sniff  it appreciatively.

"Now why does not the spring's breath ever grow in our
garden? The Flame knows we have tried to raise 

many times, tending and cosseting it. Yet always doe it
shrivel and die. One of the mysteries no Naacal ca

solve. Now"-she placed her hand on Cho's arm-"do I not
owe homecoming gifts? What better time to choose them-"

"While we are still greatly welcome?" Cho laughed:'
"Ah, yes, by all means, let us profit by that. Where to, my
lady?"

"Krafiti's, I believe."

They went past the alley of the flower sellers and came to a
side way, where the street was lined by open-fronted shops.
Sun struck in here and there to raise rainbow arcs from
wares spread on display trays. Ray had never seen such an
open showing of gems, arid he gaped, amazed, lingering
behind the others. Many of the jewels were set in the red
metal new to him, and he asked Cho what it was.

"Orichalcum. It has many properties and is a compound of
gold, copper, and silver, but in what proportion of each is
the guarded secret of the smiths."

One of the merchants arose to greet the Lady Aiee. "Indeed
the Flame favors me this day, that the Sun-born lady and
her lords find it their pleasure to visit my unworthy shop-"

"Indeed, Krafiti, if you will fashion masterpieces, then you
must continue to tempt us past forbearance. I have heard
much of a certain pearl headdress-"

"Let the Sun-born but be seated and it shall be brought for
their inspection. A-Ham"-he spoke to his assistant-"bring
forth the crown of one hundred and ten."

"Now we shall see true beauty," Cho told Ray in a whisper.
"Krafiti is a master craftsman, and his agents bring him the
finest stones from all over the world."

The assistant reappeared bearing a tray of ebony. On its
black surface rested the life-sized bust of a woman, also of
the same dark wood, and on the head was the crown.

A net of rose-shaded pearls was meant to confine the
wearer's hair in the back, and over the forehead rose the
nine-headed serpent constructed of the same gems, some as
large as Ray's thumbnail. The Lady Aiee put forth a finger
and stroked the head of the serpent before she spoke.

"Well do you design your temptations. Now that I have
looked upon it, I cannot rest until it is mine."

"But, of course! Did I not fashion this thinking of the Sun-
born? To none else would I offer it. If you do not wish it,
then it shall be broken apart and the pearls used otherwise."

"It is mine. Let it be brought to the courtyard. Now show
us armlets, for I owe homecoming gifts to the warriors
who have seen duty in far places." She smiled at Ray. "It is
the custom among us to present small treasures to those
returning from difficult journeys. Choose you one of these
and wear it with good fortune."

Ray looked down at a bewildering array of gemmed arm
bands. Then he glanced up at her. "You choose for me; it is
your gift."

Her smile deepened, and he knew she was pleased.

"This then-" She took up a band carved from jet in the
form of nine-headed serpents, small diamonds making the
reptilian eyes. "The serpents are for wisdom, which all men
need. And it is unlike all others-"

"Save this one," Krafiti answered. He held out one of

milky jade, made to the same design, but with ruby eyes.

"Then that is yours, Cho, if it pleases you."

"As it well does," he replied promptly.

"Upon the inner side you shall set names," the Lady Aiee
ordered. "For the black 'Ray,' for the jade 'Cho,' and send
them with the crown."

"It is done, Sun-born."

Ray looked at them lying together, black against white, and
both the brighter seeming for that contrast. Serpents-they
appear to revere snakes here, he thought, not to hold the
prejudice of his own time against that species. The arm
band was beautiful in its craftsmanship, a work of art, and it
was a gift of friendship. Yet somehow- He did not know
why he wished it would remain where it now was, to be
worn by another.. It was as if that black band held some
dire promise.

He got to his feet quickly, suddenly conscious the others
were waiting for him. And the Lady Aiee was watching him
closely.
"What is it?" she asked a little sharply.
	"Nothing. The contrast, black against white, makes
them more arresting-"
	She looked to the bands. "Yes, that is true. And that
is all?"
	"All," he replied firmly. He was going to have no
more of forebodings born in the imagination-they
seemed to be far too easily nurtured in this world.

THOUGH life in the courtyard of the Lady Aiee might
have luxurious outer trappings, it was not, Ray
discovered, an idle one for any of them. His own task
seemed to be learning the Murian script for reading of
the book rolls. And it was not easy. In the passing of
time Ray began to note that there were portions of
Murian life that were not as open to him as those rolls
over which he pored.
	The Lady Aiee vanished for hours, active in temple
duties. That was the one major building in the city that
he had not been invited to visit. It was, he gathered,
the very heart of the land. Why had they neglected
showing it to him?
	Or was it neglect, Ray asked himself one morning
when he had gone to the window to rest his eyes on the
greenery without. He had caught a word or two be-
tween Cho and his mother that very day, enough to
know that Cho was going to the temple for a special
ceremony devoted to those lost at sea. Yet nothing had
been said to Ray concerning this.
	Was he-had he walked again by night in answer to
what the Lady Aiee seemed sure was another's will? If
he had, he did not know it. Did they still hold him in a
certain supicion so they would not take him into any
shrine they held in respect? 		-
	The Sun was the symbol of their supreme being.
That had been easy enough to understand, and it was
one of the oldest of all beliefs. But there was a Flame to
which they alluded now and again, also a sign of
religious power.
	So far he had kept within the bounds he thought
they had set for him, going only on such errands
around the city as he had been invited to share, to the
market, to the docks with Cho, and once on a pleasure
party on the river, where the Lady Ayna and her
hostess in the city had also been guests. What he had seen,
Ray stored away, to mull over privately. But there was always
an uneasy feeling, now growing ever stronger, that what he
was shown were only surface things and that all that really
mattered in this land was kept from him. In spite of the ease
of manner and friendly attitude of those about him, he
remained ever the stranger.

"My ford-"

So intent was he upon his own thoughts that he was startled
by those words from the doorway. And in his surprise a
small suspicion sprang to life. Perhaps he was never really left
alone. He glanced back at the serving man.

"Yes, Tampro?"

"A messenger, lord, from the Great One."

"The Lady Aiee, Lord Cho, they are gone-"

"The messenger would speak with you, lord. He came in
haste."

A royal messenger, for him?

"Admit him."

But Tampro had already gone, and a moment later a man in
the uniform of the palace guard stood in his place.

"To the Sun-born, greeting. The Great One asks for your
presence in the Hall of the Sky."

Ray nodded. His thoughts were jumbled, and he forgot the
formal phrase that should answer that. He followed the
other to a litter, noting that again the curtains were drawn
after his entrance so that he could neither see nor be seen.
Why? His imagination supplied a score of answers in almost
as many moments, and each wilder than that which had
preceded it. The bearers  moved at a jog trot, which
suggested the need for speed.

He heard the challenge of sentries, a low-voiced reply from
his escort. Then they were out of the bustle of a city street
into comparative quiet. Finally the bearers came to a halt and
set down their burden.

Ray emerged, but not in the same fountained court

yard he had visited before. This was a narrow space between
two high walls. No plants grew here to break the starkness
of those white stone stretches, and there was a promise of
grim purpose that awoke wariness. Directly before him was
a door giving entrance to a tower.

The white surface of its sides was smooth except for the
door. But, as Ray looked up, he saw symbols of gold set
above. And for all his past patient study, these he,  could not
read. The messenger-officer stood in the. doorway
motioning for Ray to join him.

"The Great One waits!" Impatience was in his tone. "Above-
" He stood aside to wave Ray onto a stair that curved about
the inner wall of the tower. And the.'

' American climbed that alone, the officer remaining below.

There was a curious simplicity to the inner portion of the
tower, as if it had been deliberately designed to copy an
older and ruder form of architecture from a day when men
built in rough stone and learned skills even as they so built.
The stair came through an open well into a room that
occupied the whole of the tower's interior, an empty room.
Again the stair curved up, leading higher, through a second
empty room and, a third.

Then he came to the topmost section. Awaiting him,there
were not only the Re Mu but also two of the Naacals.
Behind them the circular expanse of the wall was broken at
intervals by opaque ovals, certainly not meant as windows,
for, though it was bright sunlight' without, no light entered
through them but came from globes resting on tripods near
the three seats. The rest of the room was as bare as those
below.

Ray knelt, feeling awkward and foolish, but following the
ritual of the court. However, none of them; made him
greeting. Instead, he found himself the center of their
probing gaze, and his distrust grew. This had the feeling of
an inquisition, save that he had no crime to answer for
"That is the truth. We do not summon you to any
accounting."

It was the Re Mu who spoke.' No, not for anything in the
past are you summoned here, but rather for an act to come-"

Ray was bewildered. "You believe that I mean you harm in
some way?" Here it was, Lady Aiee's suspicion. So he did
have a right. to feel apprehensive.

"No-you may be able to work us well, not ill! Tell . him, U-
Cha."

" It is thus," one of the Naacals said. "Those of Atlantis have
now truly closed the lanes of thought, an act never before
committed since land and living things rose from the slime of
the sea bottom after Hyperborea was dashed to the depths.

"Always have certain minds in the motherland been trained to
communicate with like in the colonies. Thus does the Re Mu
give his commands to the viceroys of the outer lands. Now
we can so speak only to the frontier posts of Mayax, no
farther. Those who have chosen of their will to march into
the Shadow have set up a barrier none of us can pierce. And
what foulness they plot behind that cloud-that we must learn
for the sake of the motherland."

"It is thus." The Re Mu leaned forward a little, and again that
overwhelming aura, which seemed as much a part of him as
his cloak, engulfed Ray, whether by the Emperor's deliberate
will or not, the American did not know. "We cannot break
this barrier. But there is a small chance that you might be able
to do so. You come from a time when different thoughts
and powers are a part of its people. What bars us may be no
hindrance to you. Would you be willing to aid us in trying to
see what our enemies would do?"

"Do you mean-send me to Atlantis?" Ray asked slowly.

"Not in body, no, but in mind," replied the Naacal U-Cha.

"For such voyaging," the Re Mu added, "we have many
safeguards. Ali-" He broke off, his eves holding

Ray's. "I see that you know little of the mind and its _
powers. Your strength in your time is founded on other

means. So, to you, this is a fearsome thing, for you . would
not loose what you neither understand nor can . control. But
do not suspect this so much.  Have you not' already talked
mind to mind? Once you are taught, you will have use of the
inner power as have all the Sun-born. But I respect your
hesitation, since to you. this is an unwalked wilderness over
which no trails' run, an uncharted sea."

He was useful to them, Ray thought. They would be' careful
of a tool they needed. And it was true that he had
communicated with Cho and the others, and no harm had
come from it. Still-the Lady Aiee had warned him-he might
already have been tested as a tool-by the other side.

"Not so!" Again the Re Mu read his thought. "Think you we
would dare to use what we doubted? You shall see the proof
of that here and now."

The second of the Naacals drew forth from beneath his
cloak a crystal such as Ray had seen in the Lady Aiee's hand
on the night he had walked in his sleep.

"Hold this within your two hands, touching first your heart
and then your forehead."

The priest did not hand it over but tossed the crystal through
the air, and Ray caught it. Obediently he closed his hands
upon it, palm to palm. It was not cool as he had expected,
but faintly warm. He brought his hands to his chest for a long
moment, and then, at the Naacal's gesture, raised them to his
forehead.

"Return it now-"The Naacal held out his hand, and Ray
tossed the small sphere back even as it had come to him. It
glowed faintly, but otherwise it was as it had been before.
The three, looking upon it, nodded as one.

"None tainted with the Shadow could have done this," the Re
Mu said. "Now, what is your choice? It must be freely
made."

"How will I know what to look for-if I go?" Ray asked.
"You will be sent to the proper places," replied the
Emperor.

"When?"

"Now. Delay is dangerous."

-,ay ran his tongue over his lips. Yes or no? He did not
doubt that they believed firmly in what they would do. But
to him it was questionable. Still-let them try, if it meant so
much.

"All right," he answered quickly, suddenly afraid his
reluctance would win.

The Naacals took over. A stone in the wall turned at a touch,
opening upon a basin of water that held in its depths a
sparkling life. They stripped him and bathed him in that
water, which left his flesh tingling. Then they wrapped him in
a robe as white as theirs and set him down in the chair that
had been the Re Mu's. The Emperor now stood behind Ray
and cupped his hands in a blindfold over the American's
eyes.

	"See a dark curtain hanging before you," ordered the
Murian ruler. 	r

Suddenly it was there, black, thick, tangible, falling in heavy
folds.

"Go through-forward!" rang the command in his ears.

Ray obeyed. Between his fingers he felt the smooth fabric of
that curtain, its weight across his hand as he pushed at it to
open a slit. Then he clung to it in agony, for flame washed
about him, searing.

"Back!" Somewhere a voice shouted that, but very faintly.

Ray stumbled ahead. The slit was open and promised an
escape from the fire he could not see. He plunged through it
and was out, in the midst of light.

He stood at one end of along, columned hall, the red walls
of which were swallowed by shadows. On those walls in
mute colors, but missing no details, were murals such as
fiends out of hell might have devised and executed. Ray tried
to turn his head, his eyes away, sickened. But the will he
sensed in control of his

actions made him stare at each horror as he went, as
if assessing all their obscenity and cruelty.

As he came along the dusky side of those pillars, Ray
discovered he was not alone in the hall, for beyond was. a
black stone altar and, about it, a group very intent on' some
action. There was a chant he did not understand, but he
paused behind a pillar, knowing that this, too,; was
something that must be witnessed.

On the surface of the altar crouched a statue of gold.. The
thing had a bull head with wide stretching
horns, incongruous when coupled to a human body. And
around its gleaming yellow hovered a murky black cloud.
This Ray recognized, without surprise, as evil, the evil inherent in the thoughts of which this beast-thing was the
symbol.

Those by the altar numbered five. Two wore red robes, had
shaven skulls, like the Atlantean priest he had seen on board
the ship, and were servants of this foul god. A third had
warrior's armor, and the fourth a rich robe and many jewels.

The latter had a small round mouth with pale lips, rather like
the sucker of a devilfish. His small eyes were set deep in rolls
of greasy skin. Ray knew instant hate, revulsion, as if all his
emotions had been so heightened that response came quickly
and in top degree.

On the lower step of the altar lay the fifth man. He had been
stripped and bound, a helpless prisoner. But from him there
came a kind of light that Ray read as a reflection of
desperate courage. By his skin and hair, Ray guessed the
captive to be Murian.

The chanting stopped, and one of the priests moved, the
murky light glinting on a blade in his hand.

"Fish one!" The captive spat at the Red Robe. "Mu stands
against all of you and your devil god!"

As the blade slashed down, his body arched under the blow,
and then he gasped. The other priest was ready to catch the
gushing blood in a waiting bowl. Hand to hand that bowl
passed, and men drank from it
Ray, sick, struggled against the will that held him there until
he was released and the hall of horrors was gone. Now he
stood high on a wall above a harbor choked with ships.
And there he remained for some time, as if through his eyes
all below was being carefully examined, though to him it
meant no more than many vessels of different shapes and
sizes closely crowded together.

Then the harbor in turn vanished, and he was in another hall,
but this time of a palace rather than a temple. Though the
walls were still of red stone, here the hall was lined with
other colors, and there were tapestries of fantastic design.

The man of the jeweled robe, whom he had last seen at the
altar of the bull god, sat on a throne with courtiers gathered
around him. And over all that assemblage the murky cloud
hovered. Ray knew it for an effluvium of spirit, and he did
not question his ability to see it. Before the Poseidon-for this
man could be no other-was a group of prisoners, heavily
chained Murians.

Faint and far away, as if from some great distance, Ray
heard the words of the ruler. Sight was far sharper than
sound for him.

"You stand alone. Your motherland has left you to us. Even
tonight the blood of your captain has satisfied the thirst of
Ba-Al. Mu is now as a pinch of dust upon the hem of our
cloak, which we shall shake off, to be scattered by the wind.
You would do well to see this-"

One of the captives flung back his head, trying to clear his
face of his loose, tangled hair. "Evil worshiper, Mu lives
forever! Her arms are about us always. If it be her will that
we die for the good of others, than we die. You spawn out
of the pit of the Dark. Do you believe any son of Mu
would work wickedness at your command?"

The Poseidon smiled cruelly. "So"-his voice was now so
soft and far away that Ray could hardly separate one word
from the next-"you still speak stiff-necked and with
arrogance in your mouth, defiance on

your tongues. Nay, I shall kill no more of you now. You
shall I keep that your feet may sear as you are forced to run
across the coals of what was once Mu."

"The motherland does not fall so easily, not while one of
our race yet breathes. If you reckon so, you are the greater
fool!" was the captive's prompt reply.

Now the fat, oily cheeks of the Poseidon darkened, seeming
to swell with anger. "Out with them to the slime pits-out!"

The will summoned Ray again as he caught a last glimpse of
the captives being dragged away. This time he found
himself in the shop of a merchant, like unto those he had
visited in the marketplace of the Murian city.

"Not much longer must we stand aside for the traders of
Mu." There was satisfaction in the voice of the man who
lifted a tankard to his lips, drank, and touched a square of
linen delicately to his lips thereafter.

"The motherland has great powers-" There was a tone of
doubt in that answer from one of his companions.

"Bah!" The merchant drank again and licked his lips
appreciatively. "Have not the priests of Ba-Al learning also?"

Then Ray was in the upper chamber of a tower, or high
building, for from a window nearby there was a hazy
glimpse of lights far below. For the first time since he had
stepped through time's gate, he was surrounded by objects
that had kinship with his own world. Strange as some were,
the tubing, and much else named it a laboratory. And at a
table in the far corner were two red-robed Atlanteans.

"We must have a man to feed it again," one declaimed. And
once more, though Ray stood close to the pair, their voices
were dim and far away.

"There is one waiting, a Murian prisoner. Let him welcome
the embraces of the Loving One, as will his kin hereafter!"
The priest's vulpine face was alight _ with an eagerness that
was like hunger, and the murk:

of evil was very dark over his head.

But his fellow looked down at his own hands, where
they lay upon the table, and there was doubt plain in his dark
face.

"Do we open gates we cannot close again? Sometimes I fear
we leap too far, too soon-"

"Does not the Shadow lord stand to protect his own? The day
of the Flame is now at sunset."

What evil they, then wrought Ray did not remember. If the will
watched it through his eyes, it was, mercifully, wiped from his
mind before he stood again at the dark curtain. Once more he
passed through an agony of fire as he felt its fabric balled
within his fists. And then, weak and ill, he opened his eyes to
the tower room in Mu, its opaque wall openings like great
blind eyes.

The Re Mu faced him, but the former serenity was missing
from his face. And the Naacals were also men looking upon an
ultimate doom with naught to defend them. Ray's fatigue was a
heavy burden, a kind of sickness.

"So, that is what they do-unlock the gates that no human
should lay hand to-"the Re Mu half whispered. "Do they not
know that such as they have invoked always turns upon its
would-be masters in the end? It can be brought forth, but to
send it hence again is another matter. Peace be on those they
have sent Sunward. And you"-he spoke now to Ray, reaching
out to pull the robe closer about the American's shoulders-"to
your our debt is beyond measure, for not to have known what
they do would be our disaster."

"What happened in that laboratory?"

"Be thankful you cannot remember. We must go-to prepare
our answer. But it shall rest heavily upon our minds until we lie
at peace in our grave-niches. They have committed a sin for
which there is no pardon, and payment shall be exacted in kind.
U-Cha-bring the water of life-"

The elder Naacal handed the Emperor a cup of the sparkling
water. Slipping his arm behind Ray's shoulders, the Murian ruler
supported him until he had

	drunk all of the liquid. As it ran down his throat, Ray
	felt new life and energy come into him.
	"You must rest. And these shall watch so that your
	sleep shall be dreamless. Then we will send you home-"
	Already the weight of sleep pressed on Ray's eyelids.
	He was hardly conscious of the fact that the Naacals
	had produced a mat they smoothed out on the floor,
that the Re Mu, with his own hands, assisted them in
	lowering the American to it. Yet, in spite of his desire
to sleep, he shivered when memories he did not sum-
mon of what he had seen, or thought he had seen, in
Atlantis returned unbidden. Then a hand touched his
forehead, and words were spoken in a language he did
. not understand. Memory vanished, and there was only
sleep.
	When he awoke, there was a soft glow about him.
Those ovals, which were not windows, held a light of
their own, bathing the room, him- Someone stirred,
and he turned his head slowly. Even that small move-
ment required a vast amount of will and determina-
tion. The Lady Aiee smiled at him.
	"They have told me of what you have done, and I
have come that you may be tended by one of your own
courtyard."
	Ray's eyes closed despite his desire. "One of your own
courtyard." But what had any Murian courtyard to do
with him? This was not his world, nor his time, and he
was the alien-
	Trees, tall, tall as the towers of Mu, rising up from
the soil. And between them flowed shadows that made
a bewildering maze of the ground. Somewhere among
them-farther-farther-he must go-farther-
	"Ray! Ray!"
	Faintly, like the voices of the Atlantean dreams, so
came that call, but it was imperative, so demanding
that he had to listen-to listen and then to stop run-
ning between the trees toward the unknown goal.
	"Ray!
	His hands were caught. He tried to break the grip
		E
that held them and could not.		?
"Return!"
	Not faint that call but as loud as a thunderclap
heralding a storm, with such power in it that he
cowered, fearing the coming of a lightning after stroke.
	"Return!" Again that command was delivered, as if
there could be no question of disobedience.
	Ray opened his eyes. Beside him knelt the Lady
Aiee. It was her hands that held his. And behind her
stood the elder Naacal, his fingers upon the lady's
shoulders, as if they must be linked so.
	"Stay!" It was the Naacal who commanded that. Now
he loosed his grip on the Lady Aiee to bend over Ray.
Between his hands appeared, as if from thin air, the
crystal globe. And light from the wall panels seemed to
speed into it, to reissue as a luminous cloud, bathing
the American.
	Once more he closed his eyes. But now there were no
trees, no need to seek-nothing but healing sleep.

g

A LONG-LEGGED bird ran along the curving line in
the sand that marked the high tide, searching for
victims of the sea. It had already feasted on a small
devilfish and was anticipating other rich finds. Rounding
a rock, it squawked and flashed in retreat.
	Ray, disturbed by that screech of fright, raised his
head from his arms and looked about the pocket-sized
cove. A butterfly with wings of metallic blue danced
above his head, only to flutter away. The beach was his
alone. He wanted it so. In one sense he was always
alone. In spite of the warm acceptance of the Murians,
there was ever in his mind a barrier between them, the
feeling that this was not real, at least for him.
	What had happened eventually to this land and
people? Some world-wide catastrophe must have changed
the whole face of the planet, to reshape it into the
divisions of land and sea known in his time. Had
remnants of the Murian nation escaped to more stable
lands, been caught on islands that were mountain tops
raised from Mu's rolling plains? Civilization must have
died quickly in such chaos. The survivors would de-
scend into savagery, and all but legend would vanish.
Her kings would be the half-remembered gods of de-
generate races.
	Was this now the last days of Mu or her prime?
	The Barren Lands, they were his own-if anything
here could be linked to him, or he to it. Some day-
some day he would go back there.
	There was a pattering as the greedy bird, deceived
and heartened by Ray's silence, ventured back. After
watching the American for a long moment, the bird
scuttled on to round another rock on the other side of
the cove.
	It shot back, again squawking wildly, and Ray heard
splashing, as if someone or something moved through
shallow wave wash. He hoped they would not come on, an

,d they did not. But their voices carried easily, by some trick
of the echoing rocks. A single word aroused the American to
strict attention.

"-Ba-Al's temple on the night of the midyear feast. Risk our
necks for Mu? If they believe that, they are fools. I say-free
ourselves as Atlantis did. Expel the Sun-born. If they won't
go-why, then let them meet Ba-Al. He has a use for such, I
understand." The speaker laughed.

"Then you sail east?" asked another voice.

"On the third day from this, or sooner if we can clear. These
Murian fools did not question my sailing authority-why
should they? I am only a grain trader from Uighur, bound
for the outposts of Mayax, and have taken the same route
two years now. They know me when I wear that cloak. 
There is but one small thing. There is one of those accursed
Sun-born-the Lady Ayna-in this city now, and she knows my
face. I visited her courtyard before the matter of the hide
ships, when I was proclaimed a five-year outlaw. If she sees
me here in forbidden territory, she will report it. The Sun-
born to Ba-Al, that is what I say!"

"How will you pass the eastern guards to reach our friends?"

"That is my secret. Give me what knowledge you have
gained, and I shall take it safely, never fear. This is not my
first trip to carry such. And your brothers in the Shadow will
welcome me."

"I dare not seek too much. There are sections of the temple
that are forbidden and protected. They have ways of reading
more than a man's surface thoughts, these Flame-tutored
priests. It is much that I have been accepted, even as a
novice."

"You will get what is asked of us." There was a threat in the
first voice now. "We know that in some way, recently, they
have been able to penetrate the curtain of darkness. And they
discovered the Loving One; so much have linked minds
relayed. You must discover how they did this thing and any
defense they

plan-that is vital. Now, get you back before they question
why one who goes to the bedside of an ailing father is seen
at the seashore in talk with a merchant captain from Uighur."

"Seen?" There was sharp panic in that cry. "But you said that
this was a place of safety, where we could meet without any
fear of discovery."

"There is no place that is completely safe, you fool! The
element of risk is always present in our business. If you do
not believe that, then you are worse than a fool. Never cease
to be aware that you walk a cord over a pit of fire in spite of
your safeguard talisman. Now-go!"

Ray crept across the sand to the rock at the end of the cove.
But he was too late to see more than that one wore the white
robe of a Naacal, the other a leather tunic once stained blue,
now faded and bleached by salt spray. A plain, crestless
helmet hid the latter's hair, and from the rear he might be any
captain of a small trader.

As they vanished up a path on the cliff wall, Ray god to his
feet, brushing sand from his tunic. He tried to remember
where lay the. nearest guard station along` the road. Surely he
had passed one coming here.

When he had scrambled up to the road, there was no' one in
sight resembling the two he wanted to trail. A: couple of
elephants rocked by, throwing up a cloud of dust, their back
burdens tightly lashed. And a horseman with the royal
couriers' horn slung from his shoulder spurred to overtake
the ponderous march of the beasts.

All travelers halted at the outer gate of the city, to be passed
by a guard. An ancient custom, long abandoned,,

: had been recently revived and was now a source of much
complaint and grumbling by those who could see no reason
for such delays.

"Name and rank?" a soldier asked Ray with a weary , voice
of one who had done this fifty times before this.. hour and
would do it doubtlessly fifty times again the

next.
"The Sun-born Ray, of the courtyard of the Lady Aiee."

"Pass." But the soldier stared in open surprise. To see one
of the Sun-born on foot and alone was so out of the
ordinary as to alert suspicion.

Ray hurried into the street beyond, unaware that he was
already a matter of report between the sentry and his
superior. The citadel-he must get there as soon as he could.
Again he named himself to a sentry at the outer wall of the
palace.

"The Sun-born Ray, with a message of importance for the
Re Mu!"

He came into the courtyard of the fountain and, after a wait,
was brought into the audience chamber of the Emperor.
The Re Mu was attended now not only by the Naacals, but
also by warriors who looked at the American in surprise.
But the Re Mu beckoned him forward.

"One who comes in such haste must bear a matter of some
import."

Ray glanced at the officers, and the Murian ruler raised his
hand so those others fell back some distance.. "You may
speak-"

Swiftly the American told-his story, and as he spoke, the Re
Mu's face became a mask of authority.

"You have done well to seek us quickly with this. Can you
describe these men-their faces-?"

"No, Great One. Beyond the fact that one wore a Naacal's
robe and the other was a sea officer from Uighur, I have no
other identification. I think that I would know their voices
were I to hear them again."

"According to his own words the Lady Ayna knows the
seaman. That is one aid. But the novice-"

One of the Naacals beside the Re Mu stirred, and there was
cold fury in his voice.

"Be sure we shall find the traitor and also what arts he has
employed that the safeguards of the Flame did not uncover
him. What we learn from his lips shall be speedily yours,
Lord of the Flame."

"Which leaves the seaman for us. Hold yourself in

readiness, Sun-born, to return hither and help to identify
him. You have our leave to go-"

Ray returned to the courtyard of the Lady Aiee. He was
tempted to visit the docks and look there for a Uighur
seaman in a stained blue jerkin. But it was close to twilight,
and his common sense told him that the forces the law
would set in motion would be far more effective than any
amateur effort on his part.

"Ray! Where have you been?" Cho strode along the garden
path. "We have been seeking you-"

"I went to the seashore." Ray hesitated. Should he tell Cho
the rest? Why not? There had been no promise extracted
from him not to. He mounted to the terrace and found the
mistress of the household already seated at the table.

"I am sorry," he said hurriedly. "I had not thought the hour
so late."

"But, I think"-her expression changed-"You have a better
excuse for us than mere lapse of memory. Is that not so?"

"This-" For the second time he told his story. "Then I
reported it to the Re Mu."

"By the Flame! Traitors within the city!" Cho exclaimed.

"Within the temple! But how could evil cloak itself so well
as to enter there undetected?" The Lady Aiee sounded
shaken, uncertain, as Ray had never heard her before.

' "The Naacal said they would search him out." Her distress
was such that Ray was uneasy in turn. Somehow during the
past days he had come to look upon her as one so sure of
herself that she remained a secure support in all difficulties.

"Those who cross the Naacals," Cho replied, "do not find
life so pleasant that they desire to cling to it long. One could
almost pity such a one."

"No!" His mother's voice was sharp. "There is no pity for
one who deliberately twists the things of light to serve the
Dark. For this one knows good and, of his own will, serves
evil. He is a chooser of the Shadow
even as those of Atlantis. Pity is for the weak of spirit, not -
the weak of heart-"

"I think now we move one, perhaps two, steps closer to the
day when the fleet goes forth to the east." Cho sounded as
if he found that a satisfying thought.

Ray remembered his dream journey, or had it been a
dream? To Cho, battle might be a matter of black and
white, evil vanquished by good. So had the Murian always
spoken of this struggle, in the rare times he mentioned the.
future. But there was that laboratory in the Atlantean tower
and what had been blanked from Ray's memory. Now he
wished' he could recall it, for what might be fact can be
worsened by imagination, and when he allowed himself to
remember, more than one horror vividly came to life for
him.

"They may have new weapons," he said now, "strange ones-
"

Cho glanced at him. "I cannot ask questions, but you speak
as one who knows."

Though he had not been told to keep his dream journey a
secret, Ray had, instinctively, never spoken of it since the
visit to the tower. And this was the first time Cho had ever
approached the subject even obliquely.

"I am not sure of what I know, if I know anything at all,"
Ray said now. And though he spoke the truth, he was sure
that the Murian took it as an evasion.

Cho shrugged. "No matter. We live under orders."

Ray hesitated. He had so little in this world to cling to-Cho,
by reason of chance and then through honest liking, the
Lady Aiee- Suppose he lost even such little as he had? But
before he could speak, the servants brought the evening
meal, and they talked of the small surface things of the day.

The American ate what was set before him, not very much
aware of taste or flavor, merely that he was hungry and this
satisfied his need. But he noted after a while that the Lady
Aiee scarcely touched the contents of the dishes offered her.
At last she arose and went to

the edge of the terrace, looking beyond the garden wall to
the lights of the city.

"How long will this last?" she asked. Her words were low,
but they carried." We shall survive this war-that the casting of
the temple lots told us. But the end comes in time. Perhaps
not during our own years or in the time lived by our sons'
sons. Still the darkness of the future shall swallow us up.
And you tell me, Ray, in your time we are unknown.
Atlantis falls and man remembers dimly; Mu goes and even
legend is lost. The sea covers both of us, and new lands
arise, with new races who know not the law, perhaps any
law. And it all begins again. Nations form from savage
bands, new cities, new learning, new struggles-but no end to
pain and war and evil. Is that not also so?"

Ray nodded. "It is so."

,- "You say in your time men land on the moon, reach for
the other planets. But if they cannot conquer the war within
them, then they only carry it out and out-perhaps some day
to the stars. And what will be the good of that?"

"No good," Ray agreed. "Yet-"

"Yet"-she caught the thought from him-"it is the nature of
our species to be so, at war within, as well as without. And
until we can conquer ourselves, we carry the touch of evil
with us wherever we go. So perhaps we shall set black and
bloody fingers even upon the brightness of the stars. But
these are the thoughts the Shadow casts upon our minds to
make us believe all struggle is for naught, so surrender
comes the easier. We go up against Atlantis, lest in this time
and place the Shadow does envelope the earth-our earth.
Mu is old; Mayax, Uighur grow old. Atlantis is rotted by
evil. What of the Barren Lands, Ray?"

"Great plains, and a forest-" He fell silent, thinking of that
forest. "Trees-"

"Trees?" Cho repeated, rousing Ray to the fact that he must
have said that aloud.

"Such trees as were not known in my day," he explained.
"At least not in that part of the land. It is a
country that, I think, does not welcome men." And he
realized that he had unraveled a small part of the mystery. It
was true that the forest did not welcome man, that it
resisted, tried to expel the intruder.

"Yet, it is your country," said the Lady Aiee.

"It will be. Now it is for no man unless he would battle it."

"Which in time he shall." That was a promise from her.

Lissa, the Lady Aiee's maid, came through the beginning
dusk.

"A messenger from the citadel. The Sun-born lords are to
report at once."

"Go in peace." The Lady Aiee held out her hands, one to
each. "Though I think we have but little of that left to us-so
treasure what we have."

No litters this time but a file of guards. And the clink of
sword against body armor was sharp in the quiet side
street, though lost in the hum of the main highway.

The Re Mu was enthroned in the audience chamber, but his
only courtiers were two Naacals and a company of
warriors. The escort with Ray and Cho saluted with bared
swords, and the sullen rasp of metal against metal caused a
man standing before the throne to glance malevolently at
them.

"A bench for the Sun-born." The Re Mu acknowledged
their reverences. Two of the warriors pulled forward a
narrow seat for them to share.

The Murian ruler turned his attention to the man before
him.

"Your clearances state that you sail with grain to supply the
eastern outposts of Mayax."

"It is as those state, Great One."

Ray started with surprise. This was the traitor from, Uighur.
He would swear to it.

"Your home port is Chan-Chal?"

"That is so, Great One."

He was a younger man than Ray had expected. And there
was a kind of assurance about him that was

either a very well-maintained cover for a man skilled in
meeting danger or else a reckless determination to defy his
enemies to the end.

"How many years did you sail with the fleet?"

"The five of custom, Great One. I am no Sun-born to
walk the decks for only three-"

No cover, Ray was sure. This man knew he was finished,
but he would go down fighting. His defiance was now
open.

"Have you heard of one Sydyk?"

"Aye. He was an officer of the fleet, outlawed for stealing
public revenues."

"Sentenced to five years' outlawry. Yet now he walks the
streets here. Have you seen him?"

"Why set riddles, Great One?" One of the guards stirred as
if to correct the prisoner's insolence. But a slight gesture
from the Emperor kept him in his place. The dark blue
eyes of the Re Mu glittered in the masked calm of his face.

"No riddle. You have been identified by the Sun-born
Lady Ayna, one who has reason to know Sydyk well, as
that man."

"She is right. Who am I to argue with one of the Sun-born?
I have broken outlawry, as have others before. Sell me in
the open market according to the law."

Ray wondered-was that why the man from Uighur was so
bold? Did he believe that he was merely accused of
breaking outlawry and did not suspect that they knew more
of him? But would the Re Mu sit in judgment on such a
minor case? Had Sydyk no suspicions because he had been
brought here?

"Lord Ray!"

The American started, then got to his feet to answer the
Emperor's beckoning hand.

"You have heard the voice of this man before?"

"Yes, Great One. This is he of whom I spoke.",

"You are willing to so swear?"

"I am."

At the Re Mu's nod Ray returned to his seat. If Sydyk
suspected the worst now, he was tough enough or well
enough trained to give no outward sign.

"Traitor!"

The force of that broke through Sydyk's well maintained
front. He paled under the dark of his sea tan.

"Your accomplice has betrayed all your plans. And now he
has gone to the reward found fitting by those who serve the
Flame he tried to befoul by his very presence in its temple.
We know why you have come here. You pitiful fool, will
Ba-Al now come to your aid? Will even his deluded
followers raise a single sword in your behalf? Speak freely
and mayhap compassion may temper justice-"

Sydyk might have been staggered a moment earlier, but he
was again behind his shield of confidence or desperation.

"If I die, I die. But little will be learned from me-"

"No?" The Re Mu smiled, a very small and fleeting smile.
Ray, seeing that, shivered. Never would he want to be so
smiled upon

"You shall go with the Naacals."

A shade passed over the face of the man from Uighur, then
was gone again.

"To the Naacals do I go then. But while I can, I shall keep a
still tongue."

"Evil are you, and the willing servant of evil. Yet courage is
yours if in an ill cause. But this is a time when some men
must suffer for the good of many. The Sun of Mu decrees"-
the Re Mu's voice took on the formal tone of ceremony-
"let it be so."

They took Sydyk out, but as they passed Ray, the man from
Uighur stared at the American.

"Remember me in days to come, Sun-born." He made of
that title words of contempt. "For Ba-Al shall show by
whose aid his true servant dies. And his temple shall see you
yet. I know this as we are sometimes given true sight before
death approaches!" He laughed shrilly as the soldiers
dragged him on.

Cho was on his feet, staring after. "He saw-he saw

you in the Red temple. A man close to death sometimes
speaks true of the future. May the one above grant that it be
as an invading warrior and not a prisoner you walk so!"

"We have grown too complacent through the years." The
Re Mu's voice cut across Cho's. "Another day and these
traitors might have been beyond our reach. Perhaps we can
learn more from Sydyk, since the novice was more timid
and but lately recruited to their service."

He seemed to be musing upon his thoughts and to have
forgotten them. Ray expected some dismissal, now that his
part had been played, but it did not come. Long minutes
dragged by, and there was silence in the chamber, except
for now and then a faint scrape as some guard shifted
position. What were they waiting for? Ray wriggled on the
bench. He wished he dared attract attention and so be
released from that attendance without purpose. It seemed
to him that even in this white-walled hall there were
shadows that darkened and crept upon them and the
throne, as if night drew in not in a natural way but as a
threat.

The curtain at the doorway parted, and a. guard came,
saluting the Emperor and passing to his hand a writing
tablet. The Re Mu read and then looked up.

"Sydyk was unknown in person to those he served. And
tonight, before he was taken, they forbade him to risk
further communication with them. Lord Ray, what was it
that he said to you as they took him forth?"

"That he foresaw me in the temple of Ba-Al."

"The temple of Ba-Al. But not how you came there. Pray to
such gods as you acknowledge that he saw only a portion
of the truth."

Cho stepped forward. "Great One, this Sydyk was
unknown to his masters in the east, and they will not seek
him for a space. Cannot one of us take his place, to enter
the heart of the enemies' land?"

"Those who send spies will be prepared against them in
perhaps a far more expedient manner than we have been.
What think you, U-Cha? Shall we consider this?"
"It is written so in the stars."

"Then"-Cho was almost breathless-"let me offer myself for
that service!"

Slowly the Re Mu shook his head. "We make no hasty
decisions. We shall see, we shall see-"

"Great One-" The senior of the Naacals spoke, his voice
falling to such a murmur that they could not hear. Ray saw
the Emperor nod.

"Lord Cho, it is our will that you search out upon the charts
of the Barren Lands such harbors as might give good hiding
to any scout from the fleet."

"Yes, Great One!"

"And you, Lord Ray, will go with Ah-Kam to set into the
records all of Sydyk that you heard."

The younger Naacal stepped away from the throne and
waited for Ray to join him.

They went through the second doorway, into a corridor
which was less public. Ray thought, perhaps a private way
for the Re Mu. He looked inquiringly at his guide and saw
the gleam of crystal in the other's hand. Then from it shot a
dazzling beam, blinding his eyes.

10 "-SYDYK of Uighur, of the courtyard of the Lady

Ma-Lin, being son to her marshal, one U-Val. In your
fifteenth year you departed for fleet training, serving
under-"

Names, a roll of names, ringing through Ray's head. The
voice droned on and on with details from the life of one
Sydyk, and though Ray tried to shut his ears, or his mind, to
them, he found that he could not. He was held in thrall by
that voice, and what it conveyed to his mind could not be
erased either, making him conscious of all the minutiae of
Sydyk's life. At the same time, though he could not open his
eyes to see, he was aware of hands on his body, sensations
on his skin of wet and cold, strange odors.

"You were taken by Murian guards, but you managed to
win free, putting the onus of treachery upon the novice Ru-
Gen, saying that he had approached you for passage out of
Mu and that you had refused him. The crew of the Cleave
Wave will also be mind-set in this story. You will follow
these orders. Two hours after you drop anchor off the
frontier post of U-MaChal, you must contrive to come to
shore alone-follow the curve of the beach north until you
reach two pointed rocks standing very tall. There you await
the coming of a small boat. He who commands it will say,
`The east rises,' and you will reply, `The west falls.' You will
enter the boat and do what must be done."

What-why? He was caught in a net, vainly trying to fight to
freedom.

"For a month you will watch and do what has been set
upon you. Then, for a space of three days, a ship of the fleet,
disguised as a fruit carrier from the south, will be off the
harbor of the Five Walled City. She will fly a plague flag to
keep off boarders. You must, if you
can, reach her before the fourth day. Do you understand?"

Though he did not, Ray felt his head move in an answering
nod.

"You are Sydyk out of Uighur!"

Ray opened his eyes. fie was looking into the reflective
surface of a mirror at a man with a brown-yellow skin and
black hair falling in greasy locks about a face that, by some
art, was older and coarser than his own.

"Your clothing-"

A hand appeared at one side of the mirror and indicated a
bundle of stuffs waiting on a stool. He put on the rough
cloth undertunic and a leather jerkin and kilt, dyed blue but
stained with salt and smelling of sweat and the sea. Instead
of sandals, there were sea boots of hide with a small fringe
of natural hair left about their tops. His fingernails were
rough and had heavy deposits of black under them. (rime
lines were deep-etched in the skin of his hands. Where that
small tattoo was on his wrist, a broad band of copper
braceleted the skin. There was a plain sword belt of black
leather and a bronze helmet without a crest.

"It is done, as well as we may," said a voice behind him,
though he saw no face in the mirror over his shoulder.
"Remember to slouch as you walk; you are from the far
frontier, with no manners. What are you doing?" The voice
was sharp, alert. Ray ran a hand along his right arm and then
the other along the left. What he searched for he could not
quite remember. Black, yes, it was black! And he should
wear it here-and it was highly important to him!

He tried again to fight off the mist that imprisoned his
mind.

"Black-" In the mirror he saw his lips frame the word.
"Black armlet-mine!"

Suddenly he could see it as clearly in his mind as he saw this
strange reflection in the mirror. The black armlet was his.
He would not stir from this place until they gave it to him!
And he fixed upon that with strange stubbornness, as if it
offered some safety now.

There was movement behind him, although he could see
nothing in the mirror. But now he was able to turn, as if it
were a difficult business to get his reluctant body to obey
him in even so small and ordinary a thing.

There were three of them. The first an officer by his dress;
then one in a serving man's tunic, who was now busy with a
box of small pots and bottles, over whose shoulder hung a
towel stained yellow-brown like the new color of Ray's skin;
and, lastly, a Naacal. It was in the priest's hands that Ray saw
what he sought-a black armlet of serpents with diamond
eyes. He reached for it.

"It would betray him to the first Atlantean who saw it. No
trader would wear such a treasure-" The officer moved to
intercept him.

But the Naacal looked at Ray. "I do not know. That he
wishes it so strongly now, this is not to be lightly dismissed.
Why would you have this, my son?"

To Ray that black band was a smoldering, living thing. He
needed it; he must have it-it was his and they could not take
it!

"Mine!" His voice was close to a snarl; his hand went to the
dagger at his belt. The world, the room, narrowed to the
armlet and his need for it.

But it seemed that he would not have to fight for it after all,
for the Naacal, still regarding him with that deep, probing
gaze, now held it out to him, his other hand waving back
the officer.

"There is a reason, even if he, nor we, know it not for now.
But do not wear that openly, my son."

Ray fondled the coolness of the band. No, to wear it would
be dangerous; he must keep it out of sight-to be safe, very
safe. He put it inside his tunic with satisfaction.

"Listen now." There was such authority in the priest's voice
that Ray looked at -him squarely. "You will perhaps come
to believe that what we have done this night is an evil thing
for you. But time and fate left us no other choice in our hour
of need. No man of the motherland could put on the
semblance of Sydyk and thus
open closed gates for our eyes. We knew that the Shadow
could not bar you when you went before into its lurking
place. Therefore, we must put hand again to the weapon you
give us. There is this: under the power of the Flame we read
the sparks and the stars. Although death shall be as a cloud
over you, a cloak about your shoulders during the days
before you, still, y by our reading, it will claim you not.
Rather will it be that what you carry in naked hands is more
potent than any sword. We use you now without consent
because we are driven to such measures. And you may hate
us for that. Yet still-" He paused. "Go in peace a with the
blessing, the nine times' blessing of the Flame." His hands
moved in a gesture, as if he drew some unseen substance out
of the air, filled his palms with it, and then held them up to
shower what he had so invisibly gathered upon the
American.

The officer moved forward. "Your ship sails at daybreak.
Within ten days you should be at the meeting  place. During
the passage of the canal stay below deck, saying you are
fevered. Your mate will act as captain. Now-we shall go-"

It must have been early morning as he came out of the
palace on the heels of the officer, with a couple of
guardsmen trailing him. But he knew that he could not
escape. Whatever compulsion they had set upon him in the
citadel kept him marching, would move him, as a chessman
is moved, until he accomplished what they wished of him.
For the moment his mind was numb and dull, having sunk
into a fog once his small battle for the armlet was won. He
no longer possessed a spark of rebellion.

They came to the docks, to a grain ship. A man challenged
them from its shadowed deck. Ray blinked in lantern light.

"Captain-" the seaman greeted him. "All is in readiness-"

"This is the mate, Ra-Pan." Some inner portion of the
American's mind supplied a name.

"We sail at dawn." Ray returned.

"Aye, sir."

The officer from the citadel and the guards did not linger.
When they had gone with no farewells, Ray stood by the rail.
Above the harbor lay the city. Lights gleamed here and there,
but only a few. The city still slept. Ray stirred restlessly. Back
there-he frowned-it was so hard to think. Sydyk out of
Uighur, he was Sydyk out of Uighur. He must not, he dared
not, now try to think beyond that.

Dawn was here now. Ra-Pan moved across the deck. Ray
turned to him with words already on his tongue as if
prepared for him to say.

"I do not feel well. Do you take command for me."

And the mate appeared to find nothing amiss in that. Ray
went below to a small, dark cabin. Uncurtained alcoves
opened from it. He threw himself on a bunk in the one that
was Sydyk's. Though he tried to sleep, over and over in his
mind tumbled thoughts and memories that were Sydyk's and
that made him indeed feel feverish and ill. So he got up to
drink stale water from a jug. But finally sleep came, and it
was dreamless.

Ray awoke shivering, chilled. A wooden trencher, with two
corn-flour cakes and a strip of meat, awaited him on the
table in the outer cabin. He choked down the bread, but the
smell of the meat made him queasy, and he left it, going out
on deck. There was a strong wind blowing, and they were
on the open sea. Ra-Pan was by the wheelman. Parts of
Sydyk's knowledge of the ship and its workings were Ray's
to call upon, and he had. been assured that the crew had
been conditioned by some means to accept him as their
rightful commander. But it would be very easy to make
some error and awaken suspicion. He looked eastward.
There, half the world away, lay Atlantis. And he did not even
know what he was to do there when he arrived-if he arrived.
Yet he was also certain that he could not make a single move
that would not lead him to Atlantis.

They passed the canal, needing to wait their turn, so Ray
spent three days below in the stale-smelling cabin. Then they
were in the Inner Sea.
-"We stop at Manoa." Ra-Pan made one of his infrequent
observations one evening.

It was not a suggestion but a statement. Ray's warning sense
instantly awoke. This had not been planned. And self-
preservation, he had come to believe, would follow only the
obeying of those orders laid upon him.

"That is not so. We go on to U-Ma-Chal."

Ra-Pan frowned. "This is not as always."

Were the controls the Naacals had set on the crewmen
beginning to break? If so, the whole ship's company might
mutiny.

"That does not matter." Ray tried to turn upon the Uighurian
the same compelling stare the priests used. He had to
convince Ra-Pan that this was proper or else they would
account for him before the mission was well begun.

"Do you refuse my orders?" he demanded sharply.

It was as if the mate tried to look away but could not. He
wet his lips with his tongue.

"Always it has been Manoa."

Was there or was there not an uncertain note in that? Ray
hoped there was. But from now on he must be alert that Ra-
Pan or some other did not question him more.

"But now it is U-Ma-Chal!" he said with emphasis. Ra-Pan
nodded, the dull look once more in his eyes.

So the American watched the crew. He ate only of food he
saw the mate taste, slept with a sword ready to hand, and
tried to rest as little as possible.

Seven days more and they were at the eastern entrance of the
sea. The open weather appeared also to be at an end; the
night sky was cloudy. Ray stood close to the rail, trying to see
the beacon light of the town. Within his tunic something
sharp pressed into his chest. His fingers closed upon the
armlet. In all the world there was but one other like it

Who had said that? When? A white band-belonging to
someone he had known long ago. He drew out the armlet
and turned it around in his hand, fighting to recapture
memory. The diamond eyes flashed sparks.

"Ah-"

Ray closed his fist upon the band. Ra-Pan stood there. The
dullness was gone from his eyes. He stared at Ray's closed
fingers as if he could see through flesh and bone.

"What do you want?" the American demanded. "You should
be at the wheel."

"I came to ask if we make port this night--" But still he
stared at the hand rather than looked to Ray's face.

"Have I not already said so? Get to your post!"

In spite of the American's fears, the mate tramped away. Ray
shivered once more. He was very near to this part of the
venture, and he did not want to know what the next would
be.

"The fort signals, Captain!" the lookout called at a flash from
shore. "They wish to know our mission."

"Ra-Pan"-Ray saw in this his chance, or thought he did-"go
you to answer them."

He half expected the mate to object, but the Uighurian
obeyed, rowed ashore by two of the crew. Ray made his
own preparations in haste. He got a dinghy overboard and,
alone at the oars, pulled along, using the nearby shoreline as
his guide. A murmur of voices from the shore, carrying over
the waves, startled him.

"Worth six months' wages, and he carries it under his tunic.
Who will ever know? Kill him, or pluck him and leave him
for the priests of Ba-Al. They might even pay us for him."

A lower answering mutter and then a sharp rebuttal. "Sydyk?
No, they have done some of their cursed thought-meddling.
That is not Sydyk, I tell you. They have set one of their own
men in his place. And that bit of news is worth a fat reward
from the east!"

Ray stopped rowing. So, the conditioning no longer held
with the mate. And to leave the man behind him-no. He
could see them now, shadows against a patch of white sand
where they stood arguing. One thrust of the oars ought to
take him in far enough, and there were only two

He gave that last push, putting into it all the strength
he could muster. Dropping the oars, Ray leaped to the
wave-washed sand. He saw those shadows swing around,
and one skidded a little, but a sword glinted in the other's
hand.

"I think you will make no sales to Ba-A1 this night!" Ray
cried. Stooping, he scooped up sand and hurled it as a
cloud into the swordsman's face. Then he was on the other,
striking with the side of his hand, kicking upward in the style
of fighting for which this enemy was unprepared.

There was a cut-off gasp, and the other fell. Ray, half by
instinct, ducked and pivoted, ready to tackle the other
assailant. He bore him back with a rush until they both
crashed, and then he heard a sickening crack of skull against
rock and got to his feet again unharmed, but breathing
hard. One of the seamen lay in a heap against a rock, very
still, and the other was stretched upon the sand.

Ray went to him. There was no pulse under the American's
seeking fingers. He pulled at the inert body, dragging it to lie
beside the other, and set about shoveling sand over them.
Whether they had any confederates he did not know, but at
least he had gained some time.

It was not until he left that strip of beach, having taken the
further precaution of setting his boat to drift bottom up,
that reaction struck. Long ago he had learned the tricks of
such warfare, but he could not remember that ever before
had he dealt death with his hands. He plowed on through
the sand, seeking some trace of the rocks that marked his
meeting place. Inside him the cold grew, yet there was no
turning from this path, nor any return to the person he
sensed he had once been before Sydyk of Uighur had been
sent to invade his mind.

The cold grew, and he had left his cloak in the boat, tangled
about one of the seats, a mute answer, he hoped, to any
suspicion that Captain Sydyk had not met with disaster. The
air had frost in it, and Ray swung his arms vigorously for
warmth.

Then he rounded a point of land, and before him, so
massive and unmistakable as to be easily sighted, even on
this cloudy night, were two pointed rocks. Certainly this was
the meeting place. But if so, he was early; there was no one
waiting.

Ray set his back to the nearest rock and looked out to sea.
Tonight he had killed with his hands. He discovered that he
was flexing his fingers, then rubbing them up and down
against him, as if to brush off more than sand. They would
have killed him, perhaps not at this hour and here, but in a
much less merciful way, by revealing him to the Atlanteans.
Ray had a dim memory of a man lying on an altar in a red-
walled temple waiting a death blow. That would have been
his portion, if not worse. Still- He continued to rub his
hands.

Then he started away from the rock. Sounds came from
across the water, the faint grate of what might be oar in
oarlock on some would-be silent boat. Ray moved to the
water's edge. A skiff came in through the surf, two muffled
figures aboard her.

"The east rises." The voice was guttural, deep in the throat. '

"The west falls." Ray made answer in -a half-whisper.

"Let us be gone. The rats of Mu keep watch, and we are
too near the fort for comfort."

Ray waded out to the skiff.

"It is well you are prompt," commented the Atlantean.
"They patrol often nowadays, and we dare not linger long.
You came alone?"

	Did that seem suspicious? But the Naacal had not
warned him- 		w

"I was betrayed-"

"By whom? And-were you followed?"

"By Ra-Pan, my mate. The Murians got to him," Ray
improvised. "But he is dead."

"So? Well done."

The oarsman sent them on with swift, sure strokes. They
were now beyond the protection of the headlands, and the
sea air was even colder. Ray could not control

his shivers, though he tried hard. Out of the dark arose a
hull, a peaked cabin roof against the sky. They bumped the
side of a vessel, and a rope ladder was guided into Ray's
hands. He climbed to the deck. No lights, not even a
shielded deck lantern. They must indeed be afraid of being
sighted. Then one of the men from the skiff caught him by
the arm and steered him on.

"Below with you. We must get under way."

They went down a steep ladder and pushed between the
flaps of a leather curtain into the main cabin. Red-painted
walls, hung with an amazing collection of weapons, boxed
about them. The floor was a checkerboard of black and
white, marred and stained with grime. There was the odor
of spilled wine, unwashed humans, and even more
unpleasant reminders that the commander of this ship was
not dainty in his habits.

But also there was a jumble of what might have been loot,
as could be seen in a ship that had been raiding. There
were metal plates as well as crude earthenware ones on
the table. Silken hangings, rent and fouled, lay on the
benches. The table itself was a thing of beauty, dark wood
inlaid with designs of silver and ivory, though much
scarred and scratched.

Ray's Atlantean guide dropped his cloak on a bench and
poured wine from a begemmed flagon into a battered
goblet.

"Down this. It is a chill night. A man needs a little fire to
run in his veins."

Had his shudders been so apparent, Ray wondered? He
could only hope they were attributed to the cold wind. He
drank and choked, but turned that into a cough. Over the
goblet rim he studied his host. The Atlantean was shorter
by an inch or two than himself, thick of upper arm and
shoulder, the width of which was somewhat balanced by a
sizable paunch. His long arms ended in huge hairy paws of
hands.

Unlike the Murians, who were always smooth of face, a
black beard grew in a thick mat to his cheekbones. A
liberal application of grease had been used to

shape that growth into a point touching his upper chest.
Out of this his lips showed startlingly thick and red, so
brightly red that one could almost believe he had applied
some coloring to them.

Though he sported so full a beard, he showed, as he now
put aside a crestless bronze helmet, that his skull had been
shaven except for a single thick lock at the crown. Also
greased, this was wreathed about the dome of his brown
skull.

He grinned, showing yellow teeth, and patted the
midsection of a silken tunic stained with food droppings.
His golden belt, Ray thought, had never been fashioned to
contain that paunch. It was closed by a loop of chain that
added several inches to its length.

"Welcome to the Black Hawk, brother. I am Captain Taut.
Those of Mu have no reason to look upon me with favor,
though the pickings are lean these days when all their
merchantmen sulk protected in the Inner Sea."

Ray put down his goblet and waved aside the gesture of
refilling it. "I am Sydyk out of Uighur."

"Ho-but you are a seaman. Broken officer from the fleet?
They join us now and again. How does the motherland
these days?"

Ray forced a laugh. "You seem to be a reader of pasts,
Captain. Mu-they begin there to wake at last. I got free
only in time."

Captain Taut nodded. "Well, I have always said that the
Murians are far too trusting, but they cannot be thought
utterly blind. Now, you seem to have had something of a
wetting, Sydyk-off with those wet rags." He went to
rummage in a chest, returning with new clothing.

"Good stuff. Got them off a ship we took in the North Sea
before they signaled them in. Belonged to some officer.
He met Ba-Al, or so I heard."

Reluctantly but not daring to show his dislike, Ray put on
the dead man's clothing. Stealthily he transferred the jet
armlet into new hiding.

"Turn in if you wish." Captain Taut pointed to one of the
alcoves. "We do not raise land until tomorrow."
He went out, leaving Ray alone. Choosing a bunk that
seemed less odorous than the rest, he stretched ,out
wearily. He had come so far-but what waited beyond the
next hour, the next day?

11

RAY did not dream of trees that night, but he ran and
walked through scenes that flowed curiously one into
another, so that he was both an onlooker and a participant
in action. He was Sydyk of Uighur, reliving past years.
Yet he was also another, standing apart, watching Sydyk
because there was a desperate need to learn and
remember all that Sydyk had done and been.

It was a cry of "Land ho!" that awoke Ray at last. He lay
for a moment or two, feeling heavy and unrefreshed.
There was the sound of feet crossing the deck, a muffled
calling of orders. Taut had said land on the morrow. He
must have slept long, sunken in those dreams.

Slowly he sat up. On a neighboring stool lay the salt
crystaled clothing of Sydyk, dry now but wrinkled and yet
further discolored by the wetting of the nigh  before. Still
he would rather wear that than the plundered garments.
As he went on deck, he was still buckling on his sword
belt.

"Holla!" Captain Taut was by the wheelman. "You, must
have been greatly wearied, friend, to sleep s6. deeply
through the hours. So, you wish to see the first of the Red
Land? We have been favored by Ba-Al. A,: following
wind is behind us. I have laid a wager of five silver pieces
we shall raise harbor well before night:-' And this time I
shall be glad to anchor there. The rats' of Mu grow keener-
sighted, and their teeth are sharp-": He grinned and strode
a step or two nearer the rail, to-° spit into the sea. "It is
lean picking when the merchant-, men come not into the
North Sea. But the Poseidon's service promises more than
just hard knocks and nor loot, though they had better come
true soon, those golden promises. And, friend, I care not if
you repeat those words to Chronos's-the Poseidon's-ugly
face... We wolves of the north are no sworn liege men of
his, if, we do choose to ally with him upon occasion. We
want:
more than just fair promises. Now, what say you to loaf
bread and other good fill for the belly-none of that

'black stuff that tastes of dust and black beetles, such as
you find on Chronos's own ships-'

He led Ray back to the cabin. And the food, though it was
dished up in a strange collection of mismatched plates, was
better than any Rayhad eaten since he left Mu. It would
seem that such fare was one of Captain Taut's self-
indulgences and something upon which he prided himself.

"I thought"-Ray waved away another dish the captain
urged upon him-"that you were of the Atlantean fleet-"

"Of the fleet!" Captain Taut stared. "Me-Taut? Not so-I
am a free captain. There are ten like men who harbor now
at the Five Walled City. But only for now, mind you, only
for now. There were no pickings elsewhere-and the
Poseidon has big plans. But we own no man master; our
quarrel lies with full-bellied merchantmen and the Murians
who hold swords between us and that we would take.
However, had they spoken up as loud and clear as
Chronos, talked of our looting the Red Land, we would
have chosen to stand with Mu. They keep their promises.
But Mu will have none of us. Now when we must take
sides, we harbor at Atlantis. There, too, is our free town of
Sanpar. Chronos sent his emissary to speak us straightly-as
straightly as he can speak. We know well that a man
watches before him, to each side, and turns often to look
across his shoulder when he comes to the Red Land. But
Chronos has need of us, so we raise his banner-always
making sure that there is no shadow reaching toward us
from the shore. We have no love for Chronos. He is
over free with ordering this and that. One learns early the
need for a slight deafness in that direction. And he sends
men to Ba-Al, or to that new devil come at the Red Robes'
call-the Loving One.

"It is with us like strange wolves meeting in the forests of
the Barren Lands. Both growl, sniff, show fangs, but do
not strike lest they provoke their own

deaths. Fear and hate can be evenly matched to one's
fortune. So we wait and watch, fangs ready for some day
when he thinks he has the greater power-"

"Ten ships of you?"

"Ten ships, and a berth on this one for you, friend, if you
will it. We can use seamen who are not pledged to the Red
Land. I do not think, and this I say in warning, Sydyk, that
such a one as you will discover Chronos so generous a
master that you will remain long in his service. When you
have had enough of the smell of fear in his fine palace,
come to the sea wolves. I warn you that though a man
sweats blood in his service, the day comes when he will
cast you forth without a piece of silver to your betterment,
if he does not send you to Ba-Al. When he needed a ship
to send for you, he named mine because I have some
weight among the free captains, and if the Murians took
me, he would smile, not pour any sop of wine to ease the
thirst of my hungry ghost.

"We return; thus he has lost a small part of his gamble.
The news you bear had better, for your sake, be worth
such disappointment to him. But, remember, come to us if
you need refuge."

"Why do you offer this? You know nothing of me," puzzled
Ray.

The captain's heavy shoulders rose and fell in an
exaggerated shrug. "Why? I know not. Perhaps because
you are young and a seaman like unto us. I have no liking
for Ba-Al, nor for the red-robed crows who croak in his
temples. Or perhaps it is because I would frustrate
Chronos, if only by so little. Hark-" They heard a new stir
from the deck. "Come aloft. It would seem that I have won
my wager, and w e come now to harbor."

Ray was eager to see the main port of Atlantis. It was set
on a wide bay with a narrow entrance. Beyond lay the city,
not as brightly gleaming as the Murian capital but far more
somber with its dark walls.

"Chronos's hold. They say it cannot be stormed because of
its five walls and three canals. But"-Taut
grinned again-"that has never yet been tested. Give me a
hundred swords of the proper sort and a small smile or two
from fortune-then-then we might just prove that belief
false."

Ray glanced at the wolfish crew in the waist of the vessel.
It seemed to him that their united stare at the shoreline
reflected a fierce hunger.

"I believe you," he returned.

Taut laughed. "Chronos would not. Remember, if you have
need, come to us."

The raider worked its way in through a mass of shipping
and anchored a little beyond the docks, where
merchantmen were tied up. A small boat was lowered, and
two of the seamen climbed down to it. Ray nodded to the
captain.

"May the Sun-" He stopped short, aware that some trick of
memory had played him false. His hand went to sword hilt,
though he had no chance of defense.

But the raider captain only gave him a sharp look. "Guard
your tongue better, Sydyk. You have been too long in
Murian lands. Here they may strike first and ask questions
afterward, if they hear such a greeting. Get you gone! But
remember, we lie here-"

Ray climbed over the rail, bewildered. Down in the boat he
sat quietly, his eyes on the dock toward which they rowed
but his thoughts occupied with Captain Taut. That unusual
insistence that Ray seek him out if he got into trouble-why?
Judging by his background, the raider would be far more
likely to sell him out as soon as he gained a hint that Sydyk
was more-or less-than he seemed. Suspicion was the
necessary shield for Ray now; trust was too expensive to
hold to

A man wearing plain body armor stood on the dock as Ray
disembarked.

"Whence come you, stranger?" There was a kind of
insolent contempt in his demand.

"Uighur," Ray answered shortly.

"And your name might be Sydyk-?"

"It might."

"If it is, you come with me," returned the soldier. "If

it is not, you will discover that it is not safe to play r
childish games-not with those who now await you."

The Atlantean set off through the crowd, and Ray ,'
matched strides to his. A wall of red stone arose high a
over their heads a small distance from the dockside. They
skirted this until a gate, overhung with the pointed teeth of a
portcullis, opened. The soldier spoke to the guard, and they
were passed to a narrow bridge over a canal where dark
water swirled and rippled. a

This bridge ended in another gate, this time in a gray-white
wall. And then a second sweep of water 1 with a bridge
across to a black wall and a third canal. The Atlantean
spoke. '

"See you the guards of Atlantis? They have been well .
designed. If any enemy dares to come to test us, those
gates will be barred and the bridges all withdrawn. There is
no army that can win past such safeguards as these-"

Ray thought of Captain Taut's boast that with the right sort
of followers, he could give the city dwellers something to
think about. To Ray these defenses .appeared too
formidable, if the enemy came armed only with such
weapons as he had already seen in use.

Two more walls had to be passed after the last canal
before they were in the city. The buildings were of three
colors, red, black, and gray-white. Those, too, looked as if
they had been erected with an eye to their possible future
use as fortifications.

There was a different race walking the streets. They. did
not have the fair skins or the height of the Murians, and
there were many more armed men among them. They
spoke their guttural tongue as if they did not o want to be
overheard, even by their close neighbors. The city of
Chronos had a smell to it, one that had nothing to do with
the normal odors born of many people living close together.
No, this was the smell of fear. Ray wondered how he
knew that, but he was sure it was true.

His guide brought him to a large square. Directly facing
them was what had once been a majestic temple
of white marble. But now it looked ,as if it had been
deliberately defaced and despoiled. Ray noted that the ,-
Atlanteans made a business of avoiding any close approach
to it. Before the wide steps leading to what had been the
temple platform were two pillars draped in dull crimson
cloth, now tattered and dusty.

The soldier laughed and pointed. "See the temple of the
Flame, built by those from Mu? Our fathers of Ba-A1
handled it somewhat roughly on the day when our Dark
One came into his own."

"Why are the pillars veiled?" Ray asked.

"It is forbidden to speak of those." The soldier glanced
sharply from left to right. "Come-" He quickened his pace
across the square. But still they must pass close to the
defaced temple, and as they did so, the Atlantean again
pointed-to a chipped and broken line running along one
wall, about the height of a man's breast. Rusty brown
stains were in the stone there.

"That was where we stood the Sun-born, and those who
served them, when we made a final end. They did not cry
out, even when, death took them. They are stubborn, those
Sun-born. Their children were given to Ba-Al, and it is said
not even the youngest cried. They have courage-but that is
all. And courage will not cloak or shield them against the
will of Ba-Al. Now they have gone, save for a few in the
slime pits and those given to the priests for experiments-"

"What will happen to those in the slime pits?" Ray did not
look again at that wall. He fought against the picture that
his imagination, aroused by the guide's words, had painted
for him.

"They are brought forth sometimes and questioned. The
Poseidon keeps them for some purpose. Come, it grows
late."

"Tell me," he said a moment later. "You have seen Mu,
man from Uighur. Is the motherland as rich as stories
say?"

"It seemed so to me."

"And the Sun-born, there are many of them?"

Ray thought he saw a chance to plant a small seed of

doubt. "Very many-and they have strong powers there. It
is their ancient homeland."

"Chronos has promised us their women when the men are
sent to the altars of Ba-Al. We shall fall upon Mu, and their
powers will not aid them. Then all the riches shall also be
ours, and those not of the Sun-born will be our slaves.  So
does Ba-Al promise!" There was complete confidence in
the Atlantean's voice.

Ray's fingers curled, as if about to reach for the soldier:
Memory was not too dim any more. Things were breaking
through the overlaid crust of Sydyk since he walked this
city. To think of the Lady Aiee-the Lady Ayna so used

"It may not be so easy. I have seen the Murians. They are
good warriors-not just children to be swept easily from
one's path."

"Ah-but they have no Loving One," observed the other.
"Now, down there is the temple of Ba-Al."

A huge building of red stone squatted at the end of a wide
avenue. But Ray caught no more than a hasty glimpse of it
before they turned into another street and so came to the
Poseidon's palace. Here the Atlantean left him with an
officer of the guard.

Through long dark corridors, for any windows were set far
apart and high, hardly more than slits in the thick stone, up
narrow and winding stairs, they went. There was a damp
chill, in this place of many shadows, to set one shivering. It
was far more a sullen fortress than a palace, bearing no
resemblance to that of the Re Mu. At last they came to a
small archway that gave on a court lying open under the
sky.

The officer announced Ray. "The man from Uighur."

He advanced a step or two, very much aware that this was
the real test of the part he played and that the least fraction
of a mistake, such as the one he had made before Taut,
would mean his death. He was Sydyk, and must be only
Sydyk. There was no other safety for him.

"Well, where is he, where is he?" someone demanded
querulously. "Bid him step out to be seen, Magos."
"Come hither, man out of Uighur," was the order. Ray
came into the light, which was that of sunset.

"You are late," complained the first voice.

"There were delays, Dread Lord," replied Ray with
caution.

"Come! Come here!"

Ray approached a gold couch and went quickly to his
knees, his head bowed, hoping he looked the perfect
humbled and awed servant.

"Look up, look up! Let me see what manner of man you
are, Sydyk of Uighur!"

This was Chronos, Poseidon of Atlantis-as he had seen
him once in a dream. No, it was danger to remember that,
now and here, in this company.

Small eyes in a bloated, fat cheeked face under a fringe of
perfumed and elaborately curled hair; fat hands postured
back and forth in studied gestures, now and then lifting to
the pouting lips some dainty from a heaped plate standing
on a small side table at the ruler's elbow. Beside him, but
standing, was a redrobed priest, shaven of skull, very
bright of eyes. Ray thought that he was more to be feared
than the Poseidon he professed to serve.

"Will the Dread One be pleased to hear the words of this
his slave?" Ray followed the formula that had been drilled
into him.

"Shall he speak fully now, Magos?" Chronos asked the
priest.

"Perhaps it would be well, saving time, Dread One. Then,
if you believe it necessary, he may repeat his report before
the council later."

"Speak then, man from Uighur."

"Following the orders given your slave, I journeyed to Mu,"
began Ray. The words came so easily that they must have
been planted in his mind to be released by the asking of
just such a question.

The Poseidon squirmed about among his cushions. "Yes,
yes!" He was impatient. "But what of their defenses?"

Again the words came to Ray. "All the coastal forts

have been reinforced, with the reserves called up. And the
fleet has been recalled to receive further men and new
ships, and to cruise in the western seas-"

"All that is already known to us, you fool! Have you
nothing of greater importance for our ears? What of the
matters you were told especially to ferret out?"

"Your slave bribed a young novice of the temple-he knew
of something-"

"And that-that? Know they of the Loving One?"

"Yes. The Naacals pierced the curtain of darkness and
saw the Loving One-" Still the words spilled out of Ray,
and he knew that they were not of his thinking but had
been set in him for the answering of just such questions-
though the purpose of his revelations he did not know.

Chronos balled a flat fist and dug it deeply into one of the
cushions that supported his weight. "So-" He looked
petulantly at the priest. "You told me that the curtain could
not be penetrated, and it has been. Are the Naacals then
so much more powerful than-"

"Dread One!" The Red Robe's hand made a warning
gesture, indicating Ray. But if the priest did not wish such
matters discussed here and now, his royal master was in
no mood to be silenced.

"Do these Naacals have greater powers then?" he
repeated, his voice rising shrill and sharp.

"As I have told you, Dread One"-in return the priest's tone
was even and reasonable-"no mind born of Mu could have
reached us. But we sensed something. If they did
penetrate the temple-"

"If?" Chronos interrupted him. "They must have done so.
You-do they plan any defense against the Loving One?
What said this cub priest of that?"

"They work upon one, Dread Lord. But of that he could
discover only that it was a ray of black light." Where did
these words come from? Ray wanted to put his hands to
his lips, smother his own voice. But it was no longer his; it
was being used by a brain outside him-and in him this
awoke a new kind of fear. "The novice was detected and
taken before he learned more.
Your slave had only a small warning in time to flee-"
	"A ray of black light," Magos repeated thoughtfully.
a	"You have heard of such? What is it?" Chronos
demanded.

"I must search the records." The priest was evasive.
"What else do you have to tell us?" It was as if he greatly
wished to switch Chronos's attention from that particular
subject.

"That Uighur wavers, Dread One," Ray heard himself
reporting. "She is not the loyal daughter, ready to leap to
defense of the motherland, as Mu believes-"

"Good! Good!" Chronos made a whistling sound of
satisfaction.

"You see." He turned again to the priest. "Already the
seed so carefully sown by our agents begins to sprout, and
will speedily bear fruit. On the appointed day Mu shall call
for allies, and there will be none to answer. Then she shall
stand alone, ripe to ourplucking."

"Tell me"-the priest now asked a question-"heard you,
while in Mu, any story of a stranger lately come to high
favor with the Re Mu? One who is not of Mu, but from
afar, one having some strange powers?"

"There is such a tale." Ray was still only the tool of that
will which had sent him here. "To its veracity your slave
cannot bear witness. The commoners say that the Re Mu
and the Naacals have summoned to their need a power
from outside-outside-" he repeated.

Chronos sat up abruptly and cushions cascaded to the
floor.

"Can this thing be true?" Again he turned upon the Red
Robe for his answer.

"Who can tell, Dread One? Rumor reports many things,
but few such are founded in any scrap of truth. However,
this much is logic-we have our aid, and it came not from
the world we know. Mayhap the Naacals have also called
in the same manner. That would account for the piercing
of the curtain-they could use their called one in such a
way."

"Could such a summoned one prevail upon us?" persisted
Chronos.

"We summon from the Dark; they from other forces-if
that is what has happened. What man can say which is
the stronger until they meet in some open battle? No
matter what comes to stand under the banner of Mu, we
have the Loving One and its kin strong for Atlantis. Know
you no more of this matter?" he asked Ray.

"No, son of Ba-Al. Whispers in a city-and as you say,
such whispers may not even be the thinnest shadow of
truth."

"But they are enough to prepare us. Man from Uighur,
you have done well in our cause. Is that not so, Dread
One?" Magos asked of the Poseidon.

He appeared to jar the ruler out of some depth of thought.

"Oh-oh, yes, yes. You are free to go. The officer without
will show you the quarters prepared for you."

Ray inched backward, still on his knees, not rising until he
was at the door. When he glanced up, he saw that
Poseidon and priest were whispering together, and he
thought Magos was engaged in soothing his royal master.
- 12

RAY leaned across the wide sill of the window. In this
upper story of the palace, the windows were more than the
narrow slits of the lower rooms. Through the night outside,
lights shone in the harbor, for he was high enough here to
see beyond the walls to the docks.

Down there somewhere was the raider that had brought
him here. He mused on Captain Taut's pressing and
unexpected suggestion that he might find refuge on board if
there were need. Why had the captain gone out of his way
to speak of that, not once but, several times?

The room behind him was bare, poorly furnished. The
Poseidon did not treat his faithful servants from the
outposts too well, it appeared. Four red walls, a dusty floor,
a battered couch, and a bench- Even Ray's clothing had
been taken from him, and he wore the black metal-on-
leather armor of a petty officer in Atlantean service. At
least they had not locked him in, as he more than half
expected that they would. Taking up his black crestless
helmet, he went out into the silent corridor. In fact, the hall
wore so deserted a look that Ray suspected this was a not-
too-much-frequented portion of the sprawling palace,
which suited him well.

Now he went down into a better lighted and busier lower
corridor. Soldiers and petty officers lounged on benches at
its far end. He could hear the drone of their talk, with now
and then a laugh. But he had no desire to join their
company. Then a few words caught his attention.

"-Murians. Yes, tonight. Rare sport within the audience
chamber before the hour is spent."

Murian prisoners! He must see them. This-this was
another manifestation of the will which had taken over
during his meeting with Chronos. There was no struggling
against it.

A gong boomed hollowly, and the Atlanteans by the door
snapped to attention, marched in answer. Recklessly Ray
hurried to join the tail of the squad.

Here was the red hall he had seen during the dream
journey, and once more Chronos occupied the gold throne.
Ray lingered behind one of the pillars, assuming a guard's
stiff posture, trusting thus to pass unnoted. The Poseidon
raised his scepter, that symbol of authority which had been
granted by Mu to the first Atlantean lord ruling here in the
east, a bronze trident. The murmur of sound died.

"Let the Twelve of the Law Giving stand forth!" Chronos's
voice was small and shrill in the mighty proportions of the
hall, lacking the dignity he undoubtedly strove for. Twelve
men moved out to take their places, six on either side of the
throne.

"Hark you, men of Atlantis. This be the will of the
Poseidon, the beloved of Ba-Al. On the third day of the
month of slaying winds, twenty days from now, the. fleet of
Atlantis shall set sail toward the falsely termed

`motherland.' Mu, the oppressor, shall lie open to our fire
and swords. So is it spoke, so let it be recorded-'.,

The twelve raised their hands.

"Is this also your will, mouthpieces of the provinces?"
asked Chronos.

"Dread One, it is," they answered as one.

"Then it is so. And the word of the law may not be
changed."

All in the hall chanted in answer, "This be the law, and the
word of the law may not be changed."

Chronos leaned forward a little. His pale tongue: caressed
his pouting lips, as if he prepared to savor: some new and
delightful dainty.

"Bring out the Murian rats whom we have already caught
in our nets!"

Ray watched a file of soldiers enter from the other side of
the hall, ten men loaded with chains between; them. The
prisoners kept their feet with difficulty..' They were spotted
and befouled with smears of green, slime, and they
tottered, helping one another along.
5	But when they were brought to face Chronos, they gave
him no salute and held their heads as proudly high as they
could.

"It seems that you still have spirit. Perhaps our hospitality has
been too generous!" Chronos tittered.

One of the prisoners answered rustily, as if hardships had
sapped the vigor of his voice. "What do you want of us, false
king?"

"Perhaps you are now ready to say your `false' is _ true, to
change allegiance-"

Ray knew that was no real offer, merely a cruel teasing.
Already the Murian spokesman shook his head.

"We offer freedom and honor to any who join us." Chronos
continued to smile.

"Honor!" The Murian's reply had whip-cut sharpness.

The Poseidon's jowls went pasty white. "So." And the evil in
his voice was plain. He was silent for a long moment. Magos
reached up to pluck at his sleeve. And Chronos nodded to the
Red Robe.

"Ah, Magos. Yes, yes, I remember. You need more men for
your laboratories, do you not?"

Ray heard a quickly stifled gasp that must have broken from
one of the prisoners. But all else was silence.

"Magos and Ba-A1 need men, strong men. You may have
these, Magos. It would seem they are strong, since they now
have the will to stand before us so. Perhaps I shall come to
watch your use of them. I have been told it is strangely
diverting."

Ray knew now why he had been sent here by that ruling will.
But he-what could he--one man alone-do? For the present-
watch and wait, be ready to seize any opportunity fortune
might send. Was that his own thought or one sent by the will?
To depend upon fortune was too risky

Now! They were coming this way. He stood statue straight in
the shadow of the pillar and watched the guards and the
prisoners pass. Then he took a chance and flitted in their wake.
After all, would any of these

around suspect him? They would watch for a break from
those they guarded, not for outside help for their captives in
the heart of Chronos's own palace.

Up the stairs-yes-this way led to the wing of the palace
wherein lay his own chamber. He climbed swiftly, reached that
room, and crouched behind a partly open door, a vantage
point from which he could watch the party now at the far end
of the corridor. There-they were putting the prisoners inside-
posting a sentry

Ray snatched up the cover from his couch and waited for the
tramp of returning feet. Then he slipped out from his own
door to the recess that held the next. From his belt pouch he
took two of the square metal coins they had supplied him
with and tossed them along the floor. They struck the stone
with a jangle that sounded very loud indeed, and the sentry
moved forward to look at them.

The American sprang and struck with the edge of his hand-at
a point where neither helm nor armor protected the sentry's
throat. He caught the Atlantean before he fell and lowered
him to the floor with a minimum of sound. Around the inert
body went the covering, and then he dragged the bundle back
to his own room and bolted the unconscious man within.

He sped back to the door the sentry had guarded and sprang
its outer bolt. The Murian spokesman from the audience
chamber stared across a narrow room at him.

"What do you-who are-you-?"

"Come!" Ray was busy with their chains, using the key pulled
from the sentry's belt. But the spokesman jerked away from
him.

"False hope-a new torture. Do not yield, comrades-"

"I am freeing you-" Ray was exasperated. They must be quick;
this was no time for arguments.

"Who are you?"

"One from Mu."

"Which is easy to say but not easy to prove." .

"Will you chance trust in me? Or do you want to ,

await the pleasures of Magos?" Ray demanded. "Time
waits for no second thoughts here-"		>
"He is right," cut in and of the others. "At least with free
hands and out of this room, we can make sure that they
retake only dead men. Which is a good enough hope for
me!"

"And our only one. Even if we reach the harbor, there is no
ship. And to strike inland is greater folly-"

Ray thought of Taut. Such a thin hope, but all he had.
"There may even be a ship. But come!"

They were out in the corridor. The Murian leader stooped
and caught up the sword the sentry had dropped.

"Do any of you know the inner ways of this place?" asked
Ray. "I came here only this day-"

One stepped forward. "I was sent here before, but Magos
did not use me." He could not control the shudder that
shook his skeleton body. "I can take us as far as the outer
gate."

"Then let us go!"

But they went at a crawling pace, listening, scouting. Their
guide did not descend the stair Ray had used earlier but led
them into a side hall and then down a narrower flight,
halting suddenly before a door.

"The watch room of the guard that serves Magos," he
whispered. "Within-perhaps arms-"

Ray pushed past the Murians. In appearance he was one of
the palace guard and so might pass unchallenged. He
opened the door. Three men within looked up in surprise.

"You!" Ray tried to get the rasp of an order into leis voice.
"Up with you! The Murian prisoners have escaped!"

Two of the guards gaped at him. The third was on his feet.

"How?"

Ray was impatient. "How should I know? The order is to
go out and hunt them down."

But the ready guard was eying him narrowly. "There has
been no alarm gong-"

"No time to sound it yet. And-should we warn them into
faster flight? Come-"

The two who had raised no question obediently headed

for the door; the other turned and reached for a small stick
lying beside a gong. But Ray struck first, sharp and true, as
he had in the upper hall. He did not watch his victim go
down but whirled and kicked out at the nearest man,
knocking him off balance to the floor, at the same time
catching a glimpse of the Murian with the sword using that
weapon on the guard who had reached the doorway. A
second or so later the Murians were in the chamber, starting
to strip the guards of their armor and weapons. There was
other body armor stacked there, perhaps belonging to men
off watch, and more than half of the former prisoners were
soon wearing Atlantean uniforms.

When they were ready, Ray spoke. "Now, we must play a
part. I am the dator in command of this cohort. We are
going to deliver slaves to a ship of the fleet in the harbor.
But there we have also another mission, to arrest Captain
Taut of a North Sea raider, who is suspected of treason. So,
as we march hence, you"-he nodded to those for whom
there was no armor-"are prisoners. Do you stand ready to
try this?"

"Lord, we do!" There was a fierce determination in that
answer that promised ill for any who dared question them
this night. Ray jerked the alarm gong from its stand and
took it with him. The two unconscious guards were tied,
thrust back under a table, and the dead man wedged behind
the door where he could not easily be seen.

They formed up in the hall. Ray was amazed. These men
did not resemble Chronos's warriors; suddenly they were
those warriors! They had coiled their long hair under the
helms, their rags were now uniforms, and in the half light
their features could not be clearly distinguished. They moved
as drilled troops.

With renewed confidence he gave the order to march.
Between them wavered four prisoners, their arms
apparently bound behind them. The party came into the
courtyard and there, for the first time, saw sentries. Be
confident, or at least have the appearance of it, Ray
counseled himself.
"Who goes?" demanded the gate guard as Ray marched the
squad to that portal. This was not the main entrance to the
palace but a lesser one his Murian guide had suggested.

"The Dator Sydyk, on the word of the Poseidon," replied
Ray. His mouth was so dry that it was hard to get those
words out, and they sounded low and harsh-so perhaps
natural to the Atlanteans, though he half thought the
pounding of his heart could be heard as well.

"That being-?"

"Business in the harbor. Do I shout my orders to the
wind?" He permitted himself a small blaze of anger, almost
sure that fortune had favored them as far as she would-that
they might end here in a fight. But the man waved them
through.

They tramped along briskly. Ray wanted to break into a
run. He expected any moment to hear a shout or a gong
beat from behind. The gong he had brought from the
guard room under his cloak he thrust into a bush just
outside the gate.

These were the city streets, and the night was so far
advanced that they were empty. But before them still were
the five walls and the three canals to cross. To expect their
amazing luck to hold was sheer folly, and he said as much
to the Murians.

"There is this," their leader commented. "They expect ill to
come from without, not from within, and unless there is an
alarm from the palace- Ah, well"-he shrugged-"we can but
do the best we can."

On they marched, past the ruined temple of the Flame into
the lower streets, coming finally to the first of the wall gates.
Ray advanced to the sentries there.

"Who goes?"

With every sense alert, he was sure they did not seem too
surprised to see the squad.

"Dator Sydyk, on orders of the Poseidon."

"And your purpose, Dator?" Still no sign of alarm, no sign
that this was not routine as far as the guards were
concerned.

"To deliver oar slaves to the harbor. Also to arrest a raider
captain-" He used his bluff, poor as it now seemed to him.

"You have a tablet of authority, Dator?"

Now-this was it! Ray took a step closer. "Just so, Dator.
Would you look upon it? Here-" He stepped forward as if
to seek the light beneath the gate and held out his hand. The
officer came to meet him. Ray's other hand chopped, and
he caught the slumping man against him, swinging his body
around. The long dagger from his belt was now set across
the bare throat of the Atlantean.

"You-" he began to the other sentries.

"Now!" He heard a soft call from the Murian commander.
Men from the squad rushed the remaining guards. And
those were swept away, with only one choked cry, quickly
smothered, to mark the change of guard. The Murian gave
an order, and the fallen men were dragged out of sight. He
came back to Ray.

"You have a use for this one?"

"He is perhaps our key out."

The Murian pushed back the captive's lolling head. "He is
senseless-"

"But can be roused again," Ray answered. "But let us get on-
"

They passed through, closing the gate and wedging it so
behind them. Ray slapped the face of his prisoner, and one
of the Murians came from the small guard room in the wall
to splash water onto the Atlantean. He gasped, and his eyes
opened, widened. Ray clapped his hand over the mouth
that had also begun to open. Again his dagger pricked the
other's throat.

"You will march," he said slowly, intent upon making the
other understand every word, "and you will do as we say.
Thus you will live. Do otherwise-and it will not matter to
you what happens to us, for you shall not see it.
Understand?"

The man's head moved in a jerky nod.

"Now." Ray dropped his gagging hand and swung the
Atlantean around, so they stood arm in arm, but
behind the prisoner the Murian leader moved up, his dagger
to the other's back.

"We march," Ray ordered.

March they did to the second gate, and on the way Ray
spoke in a half whisper, giving orders to their captive.
Whether he could or would obey, that they must wait to
see. But that the Atlantean was assured that he dealt with
men who intended to carry out their threats, Ray did not
doubt.

"Who goes?" It was the challenge of the second gate.

The prisoner cleared his throat and then answered.

"Dator Vu-Han. It is orders-pass this dator and his squad to
the harbor."

For a moment there was silence, and Ray heard a tiny gasp
from Vu-Han and felt his small movement as if the Murian-
held dagger had pricked the deeper. .

If the sentry had doubts, he did not voice them. Perhaps Vu-
Han would be a key even as they hoped. But as they
marched through the second gate, Ray knew that he would
not breathe really free again until they reached the docks.

The third gate, the first bridge, always the Murians marching
in order, Vu-Han playing the part they had set him.
Fourth gate, another bridge. Too good, going too good.
Something inside Ray hammered a warning. Who could
expect to get away with this?

Last bridge-and beyond-the last gate. Still no alarm, free
passage under Vu-Han's guidance. But it was well they had
not come to depend too much upon fortune, for the
Atlantean, in mid-point of that narrow way above the
murky canal, suddenly swung his weight against Ray, at the
same time crying out. The American had only an instant of
warning, and that only because they were so close he had
felt the tensing of the other's body. He threw him self
forward, and the Atlantean, instead of pushing him into the
flood below, sprawled across Ray's body, to fall, with a
second cry, into the water. Ray was aware of the Murian
officer hurdling his legs; pounding on the gate ahead, of a
cry from behind, and of the trembling of the bridge under

him. The sentries at the gate behind would raise the bridge,
would crush the fugitives between its bulk and the
descending portcullis.

He scrambled forward on his hands and knees, not wasting
time to get to his feet. Then his shoulder was caught, and he
was pulled up to join in the Murians' flight to the already
raising end of the span.

At least half their party had reached that point of safety and
were fighting at the gate, and it was only because they did
clear the way that the rest made the chancy leap from the
quivering end to the small portion of safety beyond. Since
the bridges had been designed to keep out attackers, rather
than bottle in would-be escapers, that margin of footage on
the other end, where the bridge embedded during use, did
exist.

They fought their way through the gate and at last heard an
alarm gong boom out. Coming free into the dock road,
they began to run.

"Where to?" called the Murian leader.

"Can you all swim?"

Laughter rippled out of the dark. "Are we not of the fleet?"

"Then we take to the water."

They ran, still hugging shadows, winding a path among
bales and boxes on the wharves. Ray paused once to get his
bearings, to look for the landmark of a ship of the fleet that
he had fastened on earlier as a way to reach Taut's
anchorage.

"Guards!"

He did not need that warning, for he heard the thud of
running feet and the shouting.

"To the water-"

They stripped off the armor, those who had posed as galley
slaves already diving and paddling around waiting for the
others. The sea here was cold; Ray gasped as he felt it close
about him. Then he began to swim, knowing the Murians
were following him. But he was stiff and chilled by the time
he reached for the dangling rope ladder on the side of the
ship. For a moment he paused, both because he was so
stiff' that any effort
was difficult and because he hoped for a sign from any
deck watchman. But waiting was too long and dangerous.
He would have to brave this as he had all else this night: So
he climbed, slipping cautiously over the rail to the deck.

"Stand steady, my fine fellow!" Lantern light glinted on a
naked blade and the hulk of a black shadow that held it.

Ray knew that voice. "Captain Taut!"

"Snake of deep water! Sydyk, said to be out of Uighur-"
came the answer, but the blade did not waver from its
readiness to slash out.

"Come in answer to your invitation, Captain-"

"With a goodly pack behind you," snorted Taut. "And what
more-?"

They could hear the clamor on the docks even this far
across the open water.

"What sort of serpent's egg have you hatched, man from
Uighur, and why should it matter to me?"

"Why it should matter, I do not know," Ray returned as
crisply. "Save that you offered me refuge. You can send us--
or a portion of us-back into the hands of Chronos's guard.
But I warn you that will not be easy. Or"-he paused before
making his shot in the dark-"you can live longer, to lead
your men into Poseidon's palace, their steel open in their
hands."

"So. You have a scheme afoot and wish the raiders to do
the dirty end of it. You-who are you who make free to
tramp my deck without let or heed?" he growled as the
Murians continued to climb over the rail and muster behind
Ray, each carrying a sword he had not abandoned with the
rest on the docks.

"The dirty work as you call it, Captain, has been largely
done. Take service with me, and you will have a powerful
ally-"

"Mu." That was statement, no question. "And what will Mu
offer-with the need of going halfway around the world to
collect?"

"Enrollment in her forces, pardon for past offenses, a
chance to loot in Atlantis-"

"Your authority for all this?" Taut interrupted.

Ray pulled the jet armlet from beneath his undertunic. "Take
this, and these men-to Mayax. You will find then what I
have promised."

"You are very sure of yourself-"

"And of you!" returned Ray boldly. This was such an hour
when even the wildest chance must be played because there
was nothing else to do.

He saw the flash of lantern on blade, but that came as the
captain sheathed his sword. And then the American heard
Taut laugh.

"By the iron claws of Ba-Al, if you have brought ten
Murians out of the city this night, then I can try to got them
from the harbor. And, sea god willing, your men will speak
for me in Mayax before I am blown out of the water by
those who have been non-friends."

"They will speak for you:"

"They-what of you?"

Ray had put his hand to his head and rubbed his finger's
back and forth across his forehead. It was not really an ache
there, behind flesh and bone, that he felt. It was knowledge
cold and set--that he could not be a part of Taut's dash for
freedom. That will which had set him on the path to Atlantis
was not done with him yet.

"I have not finished what I came here to do," he said slowly,
knowing he spoke the truth.

"But to return is to face certain death," protested the Murian
officer.

"I have no choice." Ray's voice was bleak. "When you

come, if you come, again to the motherland, tell them
they have indeed fashioned a tool to their service."

"If you must stay," Taut. broke in, "go you to the maker of
sails in the shop by the drinking den at the end of the third
wharf. Say to him my name. It may gain you a measure of
safety."

"We shall return with you-" began one of the Murians.

Ray shook his head. "Mu has need of ten blades, and
the men to wield them, and also of what knowledge you
have gained here of the city and its defenses."

"That is true, even though it be hard saying," agreed the
officer. "But, remember this. When you come again into the
Sun, you have ten liege men waiting to back your banner,
my lord. And may the brightness of the Flame light any path
you take!"

Ray returned to the ladder, eager to be away, though this
time he might be going straight into the arms of Ba-Al.

13

RAY clung to one of the piles under the wharf. He could
hear voices, though they were too muffled to make out
words clearly. He already knew that the hunters were out.
From this hiding place he could not see the raider. Would
Taut be able to get out to sea, perhaps running a gauntlet of
the fleet? Or would he even try? The captain's conversion to
Mu was so easy that it made Ray suspicious. Perhaps he had
only waited for the American to leave before he signaled the
Poseidon's men to collect the escaped Murians. But if, that
was his plan-why let Ray go? He would be an. even bigger
prize.

Unless they believed that he could lead them to more.
Murian contacts in the city and would trail him- Yet; Taut
himself had given him a contact. Though, of course, the
sail maker might have the guard waiting

He wedged himself tighter into his small crevice, but he
could not stop shivering, and not only from the chill . of his
soaked undertunic. Why had he come back-or been sent?
Somehow they had planted orders in his brain during that
time they had been making him into Sydyk. And he did not
understand those orders

The movement overhead ceased. They must have gone on
to search elsewhere. He had been careful not to. swim to a
quay near where they had taken off but one . some distance
to the west. But where to go now? To try, to get back into
the city was as good as marching up to the nearest guard
with his hands in the air. And he was so tired that he wanted
nothing so much as a dark corner into which he could crawl
and perhaps sleep a' little.

His present position was too cramped. Ray doubted
whether he could make any sort of getaway if they: came
upon him suddenly. Better move into the open,;` where
perhaps he had a thin chance. Clumsily he
edged along one of the under support beams, transferred to
another, working his way to land, while under him the water
washed sluggishly. He often halted to listen for noise aloft or
the sound of oars in the harbor.

He hesitated for a long moment before he swung up and
managed to reach the upper side of the wharf. There were
bales heaped there, and he scurried to them as one might
dart for shelter, worming his way through a crack between
two into a kind of cave. Although these were a barrier
against the wind, still Ray shivered. He must have dozed
without knowing it, for now it was gray instead of dusky in
the cracks and crevices between the piled bales, and he heard
the tramp of feet outside. Morning? The dock workers
coming?

Ray pulled out of his hiding place on the water side, ready
for a dive into the oily wash of water below if the need
came. For the first time he looked down at his body, trying
to judge what sort of appearance he would make in the
open.

When they had taken to the water, he had left on the
dockside the kilt, helm, and corselet of the guard. What
covered him now was an undertunic, and it was so stained
by contact with the none-too-clean waters of the harbor that
it resembled a laborer's tunic. His boots-he frowned at those-
but he could not discard them. Perhaps they did not look
too much as if they had been part of a uniform.

For weapons he had only a dagger and his two hands. He
held those out, regarding them appraisingly. In a country that
knew nothing of the kind of infighting training given in his
own world, they were proving to be better weapons of
defense than any steel. He rubbed them up and down the
front of his clammy tunic.

He was hungry; there was a pinch in his middle. Ray licked
the salt taste from his lips and tried not to think of food.

"Put your back to it-jellyfish! Think you can move these by
looking and wishing?"

The shout was underlined by a cracking snap. Ray

started, ready to slip into the scummy water. Then, instead,
he wriggled to the end bale to peer around. There was a
work crew moving onto the wharf under a whip-swinging
overseer. Slaves probably, Ray thought. But save that they
wore rope sandals and he boots, there was little outward
difference between those slouching, sullen laborers and
himself.

Suppose he were to join such a crew--could he pass
unnoticed? But it might well be that the overseers kept too
close a watch on their charges, that they would be as quick
to note one too many as one too few. Better not try it.

He swung over the end of the wharf and found another
place from which to climb to the quay. There were boxes
there being unloaded from a cart, and a waiting line of men
to take them up. Ray waited in the shadows for a chance to
move on. Then he saw that other, a thin man with a face
more than half masked in a bush of ragged beard. He wore
a tattered tunic, and he was also keeping out of sight of the
overseer, his glance flitting back and forth between the
boxes and the man in charge of their unloading. Then, with a
quick dart, he joined the tail end of the line of workers,
coming up just in time to receive one of the boxes. Instead
of following the man before him, he shot to one side and
began to run, the box in his arms.

Ray seized the opportunity the other's audacious act had
given him.

"Thief-stop, thief" Whether that was the regulation cry in
such circumstances, the American had no way of telling. But
it brought an answering cry from the overseer. Several men
dropped their burdens and broke out of line to follow the
runner. Ray joined with these, playing the part of a hound
after the man who dodged in and out among carts and
burden bearers. Then the American saw a welcoming
doorway and darted into its shadow. The portal gave slightly
under the hand he put out to steady himself, and, daringly,
he entered, letting it swing to behind him.

The dusk here was darker than the early morning
L

outside. There were many foul smells, but some odors . of
food made Ray's stomach knot. He walked softly, r- waiting
a second or two outside each curtained doorway. There were
small sounds from some, a grunt, a scrape, enough to let him
know the building had its inhabitants. But he reached the end
of the hall without seeing any of them. There was another
door there, and it had an inner latch, which he eased out of its
bar with infinite care.

Beyond lay a narrow alley littered with rubbish. Ray  glanced
from right to left along it. Mankind did not 4 change through
the centuries. This could be a back b way through any slum.
Some of the smells were a little more exotic than those of his
own age--that was all.

There were windows in plenty looking down upon this way.
But whether anyone looking through them might take an
interest in him- It could well be that in such a district as this
one minded one's own concerns, saw nothing, heard nothing
that was not of one's private business.

He picked a way through the mess of garbage and rubbish
and was drawing near to one of the side outlets when he
froze. A groan? Certainly that had been a groan? And it came
from behind a rotting basket piled  high with refuse. Ray
edged closer to the wall and kicked at a noisome heap of
decaying matter.

There was only a second or two in which to regret his folly.
From behind the basket a wild figure leaped at him, and the
knife in one hand was as bright as the sun. Well trained in
fighting tactics, Ray made a counter move to that confident
attack. His hand closed about a wrist, and the knife was
hurled against the . wall, but not quite in time.

Ray pressed his hand against his side. Not in his heart, but only
because of luck. He could feel the warm blood ooze through
the stuff of the tunic. Just now he dared not explore the
amount of damage. No pain, though-not yet.

He stooped and caught up the knife the other had dropped,
keeping it ready in his hand as, with his boot,

he pushed at the flaccid body. His attacker must have struck
his head against the wall

As the body rolled, the head moved queerly, too loose upon
the shoulders. Ray caught his breath. Dead, he thought-neck
broken. The Atlantean was young, hardly more than a boy,.
and he was very thin, his bones showing clearly under a yellow
skin that was also marked with purplish eruptions. His tunic
was better than those Ray had seen on the dockside workers,
and he had a belt with silver studs, a purse hanging from it.

There were two rings on his forefingers and a hoop earring in
one ear. Thief-and probably a successful one. Perhaps this
trick had worked well for him in the past .  To groan as if he
were the victim of an attack, to draw the attention of
someone who did not mind his own business-then walk off
with the profit from the would-be investigator's curiosity or
folly.

Ray pressed his hand harder to his side. The wound was
beginning to sting now. And he dared not let even a small
hurt go untended. Leaning back against the wall, he explored
the cut. It was, he believed, very shallow, more nuisance than
real trouble. But he must not lose any blood to weaken him
or attract attention by stains such as were already dark on his
tunic.

Which left him no choice. He set to work.

A short time later he strode from the far end of the alley with
more confidence then when he had entered. The boots and
the leather tunic that might have betrayed him were gone. He
wore the brown garment of the dead thief and, beneath it,- a
strip of undertunic tied tightly over the cut. The other's
moccasin-like footgear was a little large on his -feet, but that
was better than too small. And he had a purse with silver
pieces in it. There was nothing left to connect him with Sydyk
the Uighurian.

The tramp of feet from behind-Ray noted that those in the
street glanced up, and a few dodged into doorways. He
thought it prudent to follow their example, though he did not
make the mistake of looking over his shoulder to see what
sent them into hiding.
Fortune and his nose had brought him to a tavern of sorts.
There was the stench of sour wine and cooking. Once.. Ray
might have found that mixture of strong odors stomach-
turning; now he only wanted some food. The front of the
room was open to the street. Along it marched a cohort of
the Poseidon's guard. They came to a halt at the entrance to
the tavern, and Ray knew that this time fortune had deserted
him, and he would have. to face inspection by the enemy. He
glanced about the room.

There were three tables with benches on either side. And
there was a door that led to another room or rooms from
which came the cooking smell. Two other customers were
present.

One looked as if he might well have spent the night here. He
sprawled over the end of one of the tables, his head pillows
on his arms. From him came a steady series of gurgles and
snorts that suggested he was still deep in a slumber that could
have begun by the emptying of too many of the same kind
of tankard as one lying beside him. The fingers of one of his
hands were still clasped laxly about it.

The other man sat at another table facing Ray. He wore
much the same sea-stained jerkin as Ray had been given to
play the part of Sydyk, and he was eating with industry, first
a spoonful of gravy dipped from a bowl, then a mouthful
of bread from a piece he kept in his left hand. But Ray saw
the single quick glance he shot at the soldiers without, and the
American thought that the diner was less interested in the
food than he wished to appear.

A woman shuffled out of the inner room. Her hair had been
braided with leather thongs and then pulled into an erect pile
on her head in a grotesque copy of the elaborate style Ray
had seen on the ladies of the Poseidon's court. She had a
sleeveless robe laced down the font to the waist, bagging
about a bony frame, hacked off short at mid-calf. It had
once been a bright orange but was now faded in streaks and
stained with long drip marks here and there.

Her face was puffy fat in contrast to her lean frame, so that
she presented the distinctly odd appearance of a mismated
body and head. Around both arms just below the shoulders
she had broad bands of copper, and a stud of gilt was set in
the over-abundant curve of one nostril.

She set both fists on the table before Ray and leaned toward
him a little to demand, "What'll it be?" Her voice was a
whine, and he had almost to guess at her words, they were
so slurred.

"Food-wine-2' He was handicapped by not knowing what
specific dishes one would order in such a place. Then he
took a chance and pointed to the other diner. "Some of that-
if it is ready."

Her grunt might be either agreement or denial However, she
turned away toward the inner room. But before she reached
the door, there was a sharp sound, and they all swung
around to view the entrance.

The dator of the guard stood there, two of his squad to
back him. He had some of the bullying arrogance of a man
who knew he need expect no opposition. Now he slammed
his sheathed sword down again on the nearest table in an
attention-demanding rap.

Here it comes, thought Ray. He measured the distance
between him and the door to the inner room, but , the
woman was in the way. Also, how could he be sure there
was another exit beyond? He might dash there only to find
himself bottled in a trap.

The woman wiped the back of her hand across her lips.
Then she smiled, or leered.

"Wine for the lords?"

"Not your rot gut," returned the dator. "You, there

He pointed to the seaman. "Who are you and from where?"

The man swallowed what was in his mouth. "Rissak, mate
on the Sea Horse. What of it? I've been in and out of this
port more years than you've been growing hair on that chin
of yours--"

"For too quick tongues there is an answer-a knife blade
across them," the dator retorted, but he did not

tern
push the matter further. "You then-" He had already turned
to Ray.

"Ran-Sin," Ray improvised, "from the north."

"Stand up!" the dator commanded.

Ray got to his feet. Suppose he rounded the table or
overturned it-could he get out to the street? Hardly, not with
the rest of the cohort waiting there, doubtless ready and
waiting to stop any suspicious characters their commander
might flush.

But to his surprise the dator did not order his men to move
in upon a prisoner. Rather did he survey the American with
a long head-to-foot stare, which was repeated back from
foot to head again. Perhaps-perhaps the search parties had
been provided with a description, and his change of clothing
with the dead thief was now to his advantage.

"Him?" One of the squad pointed to the snoring sleeper.

The dator shook his head impatiently. "Nothing like-"

So-Ray thought-he was right. They had a description of
sorts. And it would also seem that the dator was one who
depended only on the details as issued from official sources.
But how could they know, Ray wondered as they left, that
there was anyone now to be hunted? If Captain Taut had
carried out his part of the bargain, should they not believe all
had escaped, or at least were on the raider trying to reach
the North Sea?

On the other hand, the captain could have played him false,
which had a very good chance of being the truth. Or else
Taut had failed, his ship had been taken, and questioning of
the prisoners had uncovered the fact that Ray Was still loose
in the quay district. He had better believe that the worst had
happened.

But what was left here to do? As yet no further order had
come from the will. Why had that unseen, unheard monitor,
apparently so deep set in him that he could not fight it,
brought him back? For something more than to play hide
and seek with Poseidon's men along the docks-of that he
could be certain.

The woman had gone into the kitchen, and now she .;
returned with a tray. There was a bowl of stew, a hunk of
bread, and a tankard of evil-smelling liquid, which probably
passed for wine in this establishment.

Ray took a coin from the thief's pouch and saw her eyes
widen a fraction as she beheld it. Too much, he told himself.
He did not slide it across the table, as he had first intended,
but kept it between two fingers so she saw only its edge.

She smiled, with some of the same attempt to ingratiate that
had been in the look she had turned upon the dator.

"You want something else, my lord?"

"A room-where a man can rest privately-" he said.

"Rest," she repeated. "Oh, perhaps we could find you such."
Her eyes flickered from him to that visible edge of coin,
then back to his face. Then she pointed with her chin.

"Through there," she said, indicating the entrance to

the back room, "and up the stair. Take the chamber
with the blue curtain." 

3

Ray spun the coin. Her palm flattened it to the board and
swept it into hiding somewhere about her person. He
picked up the tray and took it with him, trying not to move
with such haste as to arouse her suspicions any more.

The room with the blue door curtain was the second from
the top of a breakneck flight of stairs. There had been two
in the kitchen to watch him cross the end of that room-
another woman, older, even less prepossessing than the hag-
waitress, and a man with a bowed back who had been
cutting up some stalked vegetables, so bent over his work
that his chin was hard threatened by the sweep of his own
knife.

Behind the blue curtain was a cell-like cubbyhole. . No chair
or table existed, only a bed, which was no more than a pallet
raised on a frame of four legs from the dirty floor, and a
shelf on the wall on which stood a jug. But there was a
window with shutters, now barred. H Ray set the tray on the
shelf and went to open the
window. It resisted his efforts, but some prying with his
dagger point finally freed it, and he pushed open the slats of
wood.

A few feet away was a blank stone wall, probably that of a
neighboring building. Ray looked down. A narrow runway
between walls was there, more than half choked with refuse,
full of traps for the feet of anyone who tried to use it as a
way of quick escape. But at least he felt a fraction easier with
that window open and close to hand.

He sat down on the edge of the unwholesome looking and
smelling pallet and began to eat. The stuff tasted strange, hot
and peppery-probably over spiced to induce the buying of
more drink. But it satisfied his hunger, and he ate it to the
last drop, wiping the bowl with a crust of bread.

Then he leaned back against the wall to think. In his
interview with Chronos, that implanted will had certainly
taken over and dictated what he said. He had been keenly
aware of that during the process. Also, he was more than
certain that the rescue of the Murians had been directed,
even if the details of the action along the way had been his
alone. Therefore, both incidents had been part of the reason
for his being here. But what else remained for him to do?

And how long must he sulk about waiting to be nudged
into accomplishing whatever duty was his? His resentment
of such management was no longer quick and hot, but it
was a dull and lasting fire in him. Yet until such a time as he
could face those who had sent him here, he must stifle that.
A man could be blinded by anger and thus easily make a
mistake.

	Ray stared very hard out of the window at the wall.
"All right." His lips shaped the words he did not say
aloud. "Here I am just waiting. If I wait too long,
perhaps I am finished, and whatever you want of me
goes undone. Come through wherever you are and give
me a hint. What do you want of me?"

He tried to think that, to make it a silent cry, as if he could
reach across three oceans to the mind of a

Naacal--or the Re Mu, or whoever had planted the
compulsion in him.

It seemed that the stones in that wall darkened trees! Ray shut
his eyes, then opened them again slowly. This was like
looking through the wrong end of a pair of field glasses.
Trees, row upon row of them-all tiny. Yet his mind told
him that they were really tall-towering

No! That was not the answer-not the trees! He screwed his
eyelids together in an intensity of effort. The trees had no
part of this. He would not look at them, think of them

"Come in." He thought of that will now as if it were a
broadcast sent on interrupted frequencies, one he could only
pick up now and then. He put his head down to rest on
balled fists, his eyes still tightly closed. Come in, he begged,
let me know what I am to do. Before it is too late, just let
me know!

Fordham held the small strip of perforated paper in his
hand. So Burton believed this was the answer, did he?

" `Do not spindle, bend, or tear,"' Hargraves quoted. "I
suppose we should be used to any sort of black, white, red,
green, or blue magic by now, but somehow I refuse to
accept that a man can be reduced to that! Frankly I don't
want to believe it. It's-it's obscene!"

"Not a man-no-" corrected Burton. "We asked for an
equation that might fit a certain mind pattern so we, could
set up what would amount to a homing device. Your own
computer gave us that. Just as it provided you earlier with
your equation for Atlantis."

"Which might not have been correct at all!" flared
Hargreaves. "All we saw, recorded, was a forest of trees,
remember? I'll believe in Atlantis when I see a little more
definite proof."

"All right, no one insisted upon its really being Atlantis,"
returned Fordham. "But Dr. Burton is right. We fed in the
data; we got an equation; we used that equation and got-
what you saw for yourself, what we
filmed. And we lost a man in there. It's logical to believe
that he hasn't stayed right on that spot where he went to all
this time. And if this will work-"

"1 f it will work," stressed Hargreaves.

Fordham passed his hand over his face. He was tired, so
tired that it was an effort to make the smallest move. When
had he really slept? He could not remember now.

"It's not all we should have," Burton cut in. "You must
understand that. We have the facts from his army record,
reports from people who knew him, data from his last
physical, and the like. I must set the odds very high against
its working. But it is the best we can do. To have a better
chance, we ought to have his behavior pattern charted, other
reports, reaching back at least two years-"

"Since we don't have those"-Fordham's words slurred into
each other wearily-"we'll try this. Miracles have happened-"

Hargreaves shrugged. "I'm beginning to believe that General
Colfax is right. Send in a search party-"

"And maybe lose them, too?" Fordham asked. "Not until
we must." He looked again at the strip of paper that, the
computer reported, added up to a man-a living, breathing,
walking, talking, thinking, hating, loving man. Or did it?
They would never be sure, unless their long shot succeeded
arid Ray Osborne came out of a forest of giant trees to face
them and his own world again in answer to this
experimental broadcast.

14

DANGER? Ray raised his head, listening intently. But there
was no sound .from the hall outside. He stood up and
stepped softly to look out of the window, down into that
slit. No one stood there. Yet in him now there was such a
feeling of being under close scrutiny that it was almost as if
he could turn his head and see a figure in the other corner
of the room.

Accompanying that sensation of being spied upon came a
driving desire to be in the open, one he could not withstand
any longer. The walls about him might be moving in to cut
off air needed by his laboring lungs. Over all hung such an
aura of menace as he had known before only in nightmares.
Though he held onto remnants of caution, Ray knew that he
could not stay in this temporary hiding place, that he was
being tipped out of it as he himself might tip over a basket
to set some small terrified animal on the run again.

This had no kinship with the compulsion that had kept him
in the Atlantean port-this, he was sure, was of the enemy.
But it was also something he could not easily fight.

All right---he would get out of here. Or else-Ray licked his
lips-if the pressure continued to build, he would simply
stand there shrieking his identity aloud to these four walls
until his enemies appeared to collect him.

Move in obedience to that order-by yielding so much, he
might still retain something of his own will. And as long as
he had even a fraction of that, he would keep fighting,
dodging, running! If he only knew why he had been left
here, then he might have both a purpose and a reason to
stand firm.

The sailmaker's shop Captain Taut had mentioned, should
he head for that? He had no reason at all to
believe in the good will of the raider captain. Still it was all
he had-a shadow of help.

He turned suddenly, and his hand went to his side. The
wound there was tender enough to make him wince. He had
inspected it again in the privacy of this room. It had crusted
over, and if it were clean, healing had already begun.

Ray went to the window again and studied the runway one
story below. When he leaned out as far as he dared without
overbalancing, he could see that to his left, at the front of the
tavern, there was no opening to the outer street, only a high
boarding making a dead end. The other way-yes, there was
perhaps an exit there. (quickly he stripped the top cover-and
the only one, he discovered-from the bed, making its end
fast to the leg of the supporting frame. It did not give a very
long rope, but enough to provide him with a safer landing.
Then he was through the window, swinging over the debris.
Ray let go and fell as he had been taught to tumble to save
himself from hurt. Only such lessons had never been
practiced with a view to landing in a dump.

Crashing through a top layer of refuse, the American struck
less fragile material with bruising force. For a moment or
two he lay in the mess, pain shooting along his side, fearing
almost to move lest he discover a broken bone.

Finally, because that feeling of being hunted was so strong,
Ray clawed his way up and out of the debris. With one hand
against the wall for support over the entrapping footing, he
began a careful journey toward the rear of the tavern. If the
crash of his landing had alarmed any inhabitant of the other
upper rooms, apparently it had not led them to investigate.

The narrow slit reached the end of the building, but still a
high fence of rotting boards walled him in on the right. To
the left the windowless wall of the other structure continued.
The, wood of the fence was dry and powdery, and Ray
thought he could kick a way through

it, but there was -no need for such drastic methods of
escape as yet.

He struggled on through the noisome swamp of the refuse
and finally came to a right angle of the fence meant to bottle
up the slit. As he went, the need for freedom, for space in
which to run, had so worked in him that, as he fronted that
barrier, caution was burned away and he kicked and tore at
the disintegrating wood, breaking his way out into an alley
much the same as that in which he had met the thief.

Shaking off as much as he could of the filth left by his trip
down the slit, Ray looked right and left, uncertain as to
which might promise a small measure of safety, if any safety
was to be found in this maze of dockside warrens.

If he had not totally lost his sense of direction, then the sail
shop lay to the left. Well ahead a figure was busied, poking
through the refuse, turning over nasty piles of litter with a
long stick, now and then pouncing upon some bit it
transferred to a bag it dragged behind. All Ray could see
was stick-thin bare arms protruding from a huddle of rags
so old and grimed that they had lost all color. The closer he
approached the scavenger, the less human it seemed. But
when he was perhaps the length of its search stick away, it
moved with a speed he would not have thought possible for
such a walking skeleton, swinging that same stick around to
trip him up, while from the swathing of rags hooding its
head came a shrill cackling.

Again trained reflexes saved Ray as he dodged that tripping
stick. And the scavenger, apparently overbalanced when his
weapon did not connect with Ray's shins as planned, went
tottering on a step or two, pulled by the very force of the
intended blow.

"Yahhhh!" First failure was not deterring the assailant from
another try. But Ray could not bring himself to close with
the creature. This was not as human as the thief, rather
something that had slid so far down from the human that it
was loathsome.

He kicked the bag it had been using to store its
harvest and dodged again. Swinging the stick, it tottered
on, tripping upon the bag, and fell with a shrill wail.
Ray ran.
	His breath was coming in sharp gasps when he
reached the end of the alley. The way was. narrow,
hardly wider than his outstretched arms, and it gave
upon a street that was much in use. Heavy wagons
moved there, going to the dock laden, returning empty.
Men in uniform drove those wagons, and some had
guards riding on them as well. Ray leaned against the
wall, in what he hoped was inconspicuous shadow, to
watch, at first incuriously, as he got back his wind,
then with some attention.
	War supplies was his guess, being loaded on the
ships of the fleet. Preparations for an all-out attempt
against either Mayax or Mu. Surely they would have to
deal with Mayax before they took--Or tried to take-Mu.
But how did Chronos hope to engage all the rest of the
world in open war unless there was a way of reaching
Mu by sailing east instead of west? He had never seen
a complete map of this world. What about Africa? Did
that continent exist in this age, and if so, who held it?
Too bad he knew so little that was helpful.
	But possible geographical changes slipped from his
mind. He might have left the tavern room, escaped the
attack of the scavenger, but he had not lost that sense
of being under surveillance, and it acted now as a spur
to keep him moving.
	Any extraordinary behavior here would certainly
alert the guards on the drays. Ray began to walk along,
hugging the walls of the buildings to his left, heading
back to the harbor. If-if whatever will kept him here
wanted him back in the city, perhaps these wagons
might be the answer to such a return. He tried to
examine them without betraying too much interest,
searching for any way of hiding on one of the returning
ones.
	According to his cursory inspection, there was no
chance of that-not in broad daylight, anyway. Ray
reached the end of the cross street and faced the wide

thoroughfare forming the spine from which the docks
made one-sided ribs. He crossed the line of carts as
they drew up for a wait, making himself walk at an
even pace, fighting against hunching his shoulders
under the eyes of the drivers and guards, expecting any
moment to hear a cry raised, feel steel bite at him.
	His trip through the alley had brought him well
along the harbor. Now he was near the western end
and began to watch for the sailmaker's shop or the
wine booth that would identify it.
	"Stop!" It was an instant or two before Ray realized
that command had not been heard by his ear but rang
in his head. And with it came a pressure for obedience.
	"Come!" He had stopped, yes. The sheer surprise had
brought him to a halt, so suddenly that a man ran into
him and turned with a snarl to demand, in argot Ray
could barely understand, what he thought he was
doing.
	"Come!" Again that calm assumption that he would
obey, that he had no recourse, but to answer that call.
	He turned away from the scowling Atlantean. There
was no help; he had to answer that imperious sum-
mons. But it was not from the will that had kept him
here. And as he obeyed it against all his desires, he
knew that that other shrank, dwindled-as if the two
pressures could not exist together within him.
	"Come!"
	Come where? His conscious mind might not know
that, but whatever now controlled his body seemed to
be sure. He walked east, not at any hurried pace but
steadily as he had done before. And he could not break
the hold that kept him going one step after another.
	The docks were crowded, and Ray threaded a way
among men, wagons, beasts of burden. He passed the
tavern from which he had fled only a little while ago,
went on arid on-
	There was a flow of brilliant color here-the tunics of
men, the bright blankets and panniers of the animals
-but Ray became aware of a spot of red that seemed to
glow with some inner fire. And it waited-for him. He
was imprisoned in a cell of flesh and bone that moved to
the command of what also animated that red pillar there-
No, not a pillar, but a robe-a robe of a deep blood shade,
and wearing it, someone who was more than a mere man.

Fear lives with all men from their birth to their dying. There
are many small fears, and sometimes terrors that are not
small from which a man may cower in the dust or run
shrieking to escape. Fear can be a prod to action, an enemy
to battle, or a blanket that saps sane life. Ray thought he had
known fear many times before he marched toward it on the
harbor road of Atlantis. But such fear as this-never!

"Come!"

He was coming. There was no choice left him, no trick
learned in his own world that he could call to his aid. He
was mesmerized by that terrible aura of fear, drawn to it

They were only a few feet apart now, he and that Red Robe
with the closed face upon which there was no triumph, no
lust of battle. The priest's will was all centered on one thing,
to hold and then to draw, even as he was doing.

Ray stared into that lean face, with its beaked nose, its point
of chin, finding it familiar. Then the priest raised his hand,
and about his wrist was a shining band that caught Ray's eyes
for a moment. Watch band reported one small portion of
his brain. Watch band-watch-here- His! His watch-which had
been taken from him on the Atlantean ship at the beginning
of this whole wild adventure. And this-this was the Red
Robe from that ship.

The hand holding that watch gestured. Pain burst in Ray's
head, and he dropped under the blow aimed by the warrior
who had moved in behind him.

Ray lay in the dark, and under him was a hard surface, so
chill that its cold and damp made his bones ache. He moved
his hand to the pulsing agony of his head and heard metal
scrape, felt the jerk at his wrist preventing him from
completing that movement.

"Do you wake at last, comrade?" Words out of the dark. It
seemed to take a long time for them to register any meaning
in his mind. "I had come to think but your empty husk lay
there and that. you had escaped-"

"Who-who are you?" Ray looked in the direction of that
voice, but the dark was too complete to see anything.

"One like yourself, a prisoner waiting the pleasure of
Chronos! May his bones rot before his flesh and his spirit
wail on the winds, homeless forever!"

"Are you Murian?" Ray tried to pull himself up a little, then
fell back, for the pain in his head was worse.

The other made a sound that might have been laughter,
except in this place there was no laughter. "No. I am
Atlantean born, though no friend to Chronos and his
liegemen. And you?"

Ray hesitated. What was he? A spy he might say. "I came
from Mu." That much he could answer, giving away no
more than they already knew.

"What mean you?" the other demanded eagerly. "Is there a
landing-war?"

"Not yet."

"But perhaps soon? That is good hearing to one who has
been here for five years-"

"Here?" Ray could not believe that. This hole-how could
anyone measure time or even keep his sanity?

"No. In this cell only a short time. You do not count days in
the dark when there is only the black of night. But they have
brought food eight times. However, before they dragged
me here, I was captive above where there is day in the cells
and sometimes even sun. But of what passes outside these
walls, I do not know."

"Atlantis moves against Mu."

"It took them long enough to nerve themselves to that. For
a hundred years the priests of Ba-Al have wrought what
manner of magic they could to this end. Five years ago when
I tried to ship out, they were approaching some summit of
their evil. Men whispered of that--"

"How is it that you still live?"
Again that sound which was almost laughter. "Brave as
Chronos would like to think himself, he dares not go against
ancient prophecies. There is some blood he cannot shed until
he is truly master of the world which will be a long time
coming. And he will not kill the true holder of the Trident,
since it was vowed long ago that that would bring the wrath
of the sea in upon the land."

"What do you mean?"

"The line of the true Poseidons was supposed to have ended
a hundred years ago., but in truth it did not, for the last
Poseidon's daughter, rather than accept as her consort the
man chosen by the priests of Ba-Al, fled into the mountains,
letting it be thought she died. There she exchanged bracelets
with the captain of her guard, a Sun-born true to her. And I
am a direct descendant of that union, as Chronos knows. He
has slain all the Sun-born he can lay hands on, destroyed the
temple of the Flame, but he dares not yet put knife to me-
for it is written in the stars, to be read even by the priests of
the Shadow, that Atlantis will endure only as long as does the
true blood. He keeps me safe under his hand, but he does
not kill."

"But you are loyal to Mu?"

"How could it be otherwise?" asked the other simply. "I am
of the house of the Sun in Atlantis; the son may not turn
against his mother. Chronos is not of the Sun-born; that is
one reason his hate for them is so black and bitter. But now
I say, comrade, may the Sun speed the ships of Mu, for I
cannot believe they are waiting for the Shadow's sons to
attack first--"

"I hope that they come," Ray answered. But, he thought,
what was he doing in the middle of this quarrel which was
none of his? He could hope for some miracle to save him
from whatever fate those of Atlantis prepared for him, but
to count much on such a hope was folly.

"Now, comrade, what of you? Just a short time ago they
brought you here. You say you are from Mu, yet in

their torchlight you had not the look of the motherland-"

"My name is Ray and I am from the Barren Lands-"

"The Barren Lands? Have they then established a colony
there?"

" I am not of Mu, save that the Re Mu has granted me that
courtesy," Ray said slowly. Granted him? No, lulled his
suspicions that he might prove to be a weapon-or whatever
he meant to the will that ruled him here. Will-Ray suddenly
became conscious that that was gone from him. Either it
had been banished by the force that Red Robe had used to
draw him tamely into captivity, or else it had withdrawn
because he was no longer of use.

"The Barren Lands," the other repeated. "Waitthey come!"

A sharp click and an oblong of light appeared in the wall.
Ray tried to shield his eyes as two soldiers bearing rods that
gave off yellow light stepped within.

"Welcome, hounds of Chronos!" cried his cellmate. "How
goes it with you? Have those of Mu come down upon you
yet, or do you still brew some foul Shadow magic hoping
thus to make yourselves new walls against Murian steel?"

Ray turned his head. Fastened to the wall near him was a
young man, emaciated, the cheerfulness of his voice belied
by deep lines about his well-cut mouth. And silver frosted
his long black hair.

One of the warriors grunted as he set a gourd of water and
some hunks of dark bread on the floor. His companions
thrust one light rod through an iron ring in the wall before
they left together.

"Now I wonder what is the meaning of that?" The Atlantean
prisoner pointed to the light. "They plan some trickery. In
this prison one comes in time to question the very stones of
the walls. Chronos does ; nothing without purpose. He
learned that much from _j Magos."

He reached for the nearest hunk of bread and passed it to
Ray. "Best eat while you may, comrade. Chronos
has a fondness for experiments, and he might wish to see
how long we can live without even crumbs. You have
named yourself-let me do likewise. I am Uranos."

"Eat but half," Uranos advised as Ray chewed the tasteless
stuff: "It is better to have less today than none tomorrow.
Chronos hatches some plan beneath his misshapen skull that
holds nothing but ill for us. Me he fears, not for what I, a
prisoner, can do, but because I am who I am. And you
must also threaten him in some fashion, or he would not
hold us together. The promise made by the stars may not
save me-"

"I met a man, the captain of a raider, who swore he could
take this city if he led the proper men. In spite of all the
walls and canals," Ray said slowly, not knowing why that
came into his mind now.

Uranos frowned. "It could well be done. There are secrets
within Chronos's walls, which he has manned so securely,
that are secrets even to him."

"You mean?"

"Rooms and passages underground where the foot of man
has not stirred dust these hundred years. I have heard tales
of such, and perhaps your captain has also, or knows even
more than tales. If he has found such a way, the core of the
city might lie open to him. But this captain is loyal to the
Shadow, is he not?"

"No longer, or so I hope. He sailed with escaped Murian
prisoners onboard-"

"Then"-Uranos smiled-"perhaps in the future Chronos may
have some unsought visitors. Would that I could look upon
his face if and when that happens. Also I think he shall lie
uneasy tonight-"

"Why?"

"I suspect we have been overheard, and a report of our
words will be speedily carried to Chronos!"

"Someone listening?" Ray stared at the walls.

"Years of such hospitality have given me keen ears. It is not
the first time this has happened. Now there will be a mighty
scurrying, hunting underground ways. Whisper a warning
into a coward's ear and he will straightway feel a knife
pricking his throat. But there

are hundreds of passages; mostly long sealed, and he will
never find them all. So will he sweat and fear-"

"But what if he finds the right passage and sets an ambush
there?" It seemed to Ray that his cellmate was entirely too
optimistic.

"That is as fortune decrees, but somehow I think it will not
happen. What man may change the lines written on his
forehead at birth, or the future the stars foretell? I believe
that I shall live to reign here-"

In spite of himself Ray was moved by the Atlantean's
confidence. Could these men really see the future, or a
portion of it? What had the Lady Ayna once said-that they
saw a future but that some decision of their own could
change it.

"How can you be so sure?"

Uranos looked at him, and now that glance steadied into a
hard, measuring stare.

"If you have passed the First Mysteries, as by your age you
must have, how can you ask that? What manner of man are
you? Of the Barren Lands you said, Murian by the Re Mu's
favor-but no colonist. What are you?"

"No man of this time-"

"You mean?"

°'I was born into the world of the far future. I came
through time to here. How, and why I do not know."

Uranos was silent for a long moment. If the same story had
been told him, Ray wondered, would he have believed it?

"So-then did the Naacals send forth a summons also? One
that you answered by your coming?"

"No, I came by accident." He told the story in a few
sentences.

"And if you can never return?"

"That I do not know. Nor even if I have any future beyond
this hour, or this day. Judging by our present circumstances,
probably not."

Uranos shook his head. "It is well to be prepared for ill, but
do not yet toss away the future, my friend. Let us forget a
little and give those who listen something to
be heard. Tell me of your world-no, let me first show you
mine-"

And he talked of his boyhood in the mountain valleys and
of how he had hunted horses in the plains.

"Comrade, nowhere in the world is there aught to equal the
beauty of a horse finishing a race, his mane long on the
wind, his hoofs pounding as war drums. The sailors speak
of ships, the huntsmen of the elk at bay-but the horse fills
my heart. And did I not ride Flame breather to victory five
times over!" Passionate longing broke through his voice.

"Tell me-" he began after a pause, and then made a sharp
gesture toward the door. "They come again," he said in a
half whisper.

And it seemed to Ray that a kind of evil shadow came first,
dimming the light rod, hanging about them.

15

ACCOMPANYING the guards this time was one of the
Red Robes.

"All hail, brother of the Shadow," Uranos addressed him as
their guards released their chains from rings in the wall.
"Why does the servant of Ba-Al come to disturb us?"

The priest looked from Ray to Uranos and then centered
his stare on the Sun-born. The American thought that he
had never seen so cold and measuring a regard. He did not
answer Uranos but spoke to the guards.

"Bring them forth."

They found it hard to get to their feet. The short chains had
so held them that the muscles of their backs and thighs
were cramped. But pushes from the guards sent them
stumbling out into a narrow hall.

"They count us mighty heroes," Uranos observed. "See,
brother, they must send eight warriors and a priest to have
us out!"

But if he were trying to bait the Atlanteans into some
move, none of their escort arose to his needling. Instead,
the soldiers closed upon them, urging them on at a fast
pace after the hurrying priest. They went on up and down
dark passages, and Ray thought how like this was to a giant
spider web, with Chronos, like a bloated insect, in its midst.
Then they came to a wider and better lighted hall and
halted before a door curtain of metal, not fabric.

Their guards shifted uneasily, keeping their attention riveted
upon the curtain. It was, Ray decided, as if they were
unhappy at being sent here. Then the priest placed his right
hand on the screen, and it opened at what could have been
only a light touch. With an audible sigh of relief, the warrior
nearest Ray thrust
the American on the heels of the Red Robe, with Uranos,
similarly urged, beside him.

Two Red Robes waited and caught at their chains as if this
was a matter in which they had long practice. Ray had no
chance to struggle before his arms were locked firmly behind
him.

"On!" commanded the third priest who had led them.

They crossed a bare room and went through a second door
into a chamber with walls the rusty brown of dried blood.
There was a single large chair there, carved from one block
of black stone, which looked none too comfortable. But its
occupant appeared as much at his ease as Chronos lolling
among cushions. Magos brooded. There was a satiated, yet
anticipatory look about him, such as might have been worn
by a vulture perched above a slaughter yard.

He was smiling, if the rictus that twisted his thin lips could be
given such a definition, leaning forward slightly to hear the
better some tale now being whispered into his ear by another
priest. But when his eyes rested upon the prisoners, it became
a wide and evil smirk.

"So, my lord Sun-born, Poseidon-who-has-no-hope-of-
being, you have come to me at last," he said to Uranos. "Do
you hold in memory now a past meeting when I spoke to
you of the will of the Dark master and you refused to listen?
You cut yourself from the future that day, Uranos. Do you
regret that?"

Uranos held his head high. "Magos, you claim to be the son
of Ba-A1 upon earth. Does the Shadow agree to that, I
wonder? But I can well believe you aspire to play the role as
fittingly as something born of flesh and blood can, since such
evil otherwise would not come into any sane mind. If you
propose to entreat me again-"

	"Entreat you you!" The high priest laughed, a chill,
thin sound that might have issued from the bony jaws
of a skull. "Magos does not ask a second time. Nor have
you any value now. This time you will serve another
purpose."

"That shall be as the Sun decides. The future lies: within the
temple-"

"Ba-Al's shrine."

"I think not. There still stands another temple in this city."

Magos's smile was gone. His eyes burned as Ray had never
seen a human's burn before.

"The Flame is long quenched. You pay a debt-"

"And I say to you, Magos, that in the end the paying shall
come from you. And it shall be such a paying as. this world
has never seen."

There was such conviction in Uranos's voice that one could
believe he looked into the future, reading there enough to
make that not a threat but a prophecy.

"Dare you believe that, you who are an insect upon which the
servant of Ba-Al can set a sandal and no

realize that he has crushed aught at all? Dare you:' speak to
me-me, the ruler of the world under the.` shadow?"

"Has Chronos heard such words, Magos? He sees himself the
ruler of the world."

The smile returned to the priest's vulturine face. "Chronos?
Who-what is Chronos? A man uses a tool, to aid in a task.
Once done, that tool may be throw

away, perhaps broken. When I choose, I shall brush Chronos
into nothingness. Think not to appeal to. Chronos-"

It was Uranos's turn to laugh. "And again I say,' Magos,
Chronos might not agree with your words. I think, were they
to be reported to him, there might be .u a visitor to your
sleeping chamber with the night, one

carrying steel and knowing how to use it silently-"

But Magos continued to smile. "That is of no importance,
certainly no concern of yours."

"Then why have you sent for us, son of the pit?"

"Like other men, Uranos, at times I wish amusement. And
games of chance interest me. My friend, Conth"-he nodded
to the priest who had been whispering to him-"has wagered
me a curious ring out of Uighur, a ring that is said to give its
holder some odd
powers, that I cannot keep a man alive for seven days in the
laboratories while he undergoes some changes. Now I am
proud of the skill of my workmen, and I desire that ring
with its attractive history. So I thought of all the prisoners
within these walls who could be spared, and I summoned
you-"

Uranos might not be broken, but he had been shaken
enough to say, "Devil!"

"So have others called me before they passed through that
door." The high priest pointed to an opening at the far end
of the room. "And yet later they blessed me when I granted
them death-much, much later. You are strong, Uranos; so
does this other one look also. I think I shall win my wager."

He arose, and the icy claws of the priest behind Ray
fastened on the American's shoulders, propelling him
forward. Magos had taken two steps before lie turned and
came back.

"Now I am a true son of the Shadow. It has come to me
that perhaps Ba-Al should have a voice in this. Therefore,
you twain shall choose between black and white stones. He
to whom my lord sends the black shall save my wager, and
he who gains the white shall wait for a while. Yes, that is fit
and proper."

The other priests echoed his laughter. Ray watched Conth
bring a bowl and ostentatiously drop two stones, one white,
one black, into it. Then once more Magos held up a hand.

"Put in two of the white. If both draw, then I know that Ba-
Al wishes them for himself: The will of the Shadow is our
full desire. Conth shall draw for Uranos, and Path-tan for
this stranger. Draw, Conth-"

Magos took the bowl and held it well above the eye level of
the lesser priest. Conth's hand moved and opened to show
a white stone on his palm.

Path-tan came forward and dipped his fingers in turn. Then
he tossed his prize to the floor, where it rolled to touch
Ray's foot. It was also white.

"Our lord has spoken." Magos broke the silence. "By his
will be it so."

The other priests echoed his words. But Ray wondered-had
it been only a trick? Why did Magos want to threaten and
then reprieve? Or indeed had chance selected the stones and
Magos been superstitious enough to allow himself to be
balked, believing Ba-A1 had guided the priest's groping
fingers?

"Uranos." The high priest came a step closer. "What do you
expect-the altar and the knife-or"-he paused-"the embrace
of the Loving One?"

"What matters it how a Sun-born warrior faces death as
long as he does so under the Flame? The body dies,-. but
not that which is the true man. And in death do I.. conquer,
as well you know, who have chosen to turn down the path
of the Shadow. The altar of this devil you speak of-the
Loving One-"

"The devil I speak of?" Magos replied. "You should not
utter words about things you do not know so lightly,
Uranos. The Loving One it shall be, and you will call upon
your Flame in that hour, and it will not leap to your calling.
Then you will beg for death-but it shall come in its own
time and by its own desire. And; for you-likewise!" For the
first time since they had: entered that room the high priest
looked straight at Ray. "Take them to the temple so that
they may be: ready at hand when the hour strikes-"

Once more they traveled through dark passages, some of
them so dusky that they might be moving through an
endless night. Once Ray saw trickles of oily moisture on the
walls and slimy tracks left by nameless dwellers in these
underground ways.

They came to steps climbing up and up, passing ate least
two other levels of floors, then out into a red-walled'
corridor with rods of light set at regular intervals P along it,
and finally into the hall of murals, which Ray

had seen during that dream journey.

"We are in the temple of Ba-Al." Uranos spoke for' the first
time since they had left Magos. "See you,: brother, how the
Lord of the Shadow would keep hi.,

foul amusements ever before his worshipers' eyes?"
Ray gave those obscene pictures but a glance and then
averted his gaze.

"Be silent!" One of their escort slapped Uranos across

-the mouth viciously. "Time for speech, yes, and for wailing
and calling upon a long-quenched Flame will come. They
say that the Sun-born do not know how to beg for mercy.
But then the Sun-born have not yet met the Loving One. I
warrant you will squeal as loudly at the last as did the last
Murian who went into the embrace of That Which Crawls!"

They were put in a small side chamber, their chains again
snapped to rings in the walls, and then the priests left them.
"What was Magos's purpose?" Ray asked when they were
alone. "Did he play a game with those stones? Or did he
really believe Ba-Al made the choice?"

"Who knows?" the other returned. "If he played a game, it
was not wholly aimed at us, I think. This Loving One-I wish
I knew more."

He did not agree, Ray decided. He leaned his head against
the wall as his older problem came back full force. Why had
the will kept him here in the heart of the enemy's country?
What had been the task he had not completed? Since he had
been summoned by the Red Robe on the quay, that void
which the will had filled had been empty in him. Had it fled
or been driven out by the power of the Atlantean priest?

Why was he here?

The stones at his back were chill and cold; he was lost. Not
this time in a forest of giant trees but in a place he could not
describe, where not his body, but another part of him,
drifted without purpose-beyond his control. Lost, yes, as he
never thought anyone or anything could be lost

Then-that which he had become-that drifting wisp of near
nothingness was caught-held--drawn in another direction-
and by the will!

Ray was in his body, and there was a tingling in his flesh, a
warmth under his skin, which had once come from the
sparkling water in the Murian citadel. In him

again the will was firmly seated-waiting-though for what he
did not know.

"Brother!"

Ray turned his head and looked to the other. Uranos had
pulled to the end of his chains and was trying to touch Ray
with one outstretched hand. His face mirrored amazement
and concern.

"How is it with you?" he asked as Ray's gaze met his.

"Well-now," the American answered and knew that was the
truth. With the will had come confidence. Yet do not
depend upon it, caution urged.

"You-it was as if you went from your body-" half
whispered Uranos.

"But I have returned," Ray said. "And also-" He hesitated.

"Yes-?" Uranos asked.

"I think-listen!" His head still rested against the wall, and it
seemed to him that through the stone came sound, very dim
and far away.

The Atlantean turned his head and laid his right ear also to
the wall.

"Like sea surf," he said after a long moment.

"What is it?"

They were not given long to speculate. The priests returned
to unhook their chains. As they came into the great hall of
the temple, that sound was clearer, sharper, as if some
acoustic property of the building picked up and amplified it.
It was now indeed a roaring. Uranos kept turning his head.

"That-this is battle!" he cried out suddenly.

"Mu!" But how? Ray questioned his own answer. There
surely had not been time enough for the motherland to
gather an army, to strike thus at the very heartland of the
enemy. But could he be sure of that. either?

It may well be." Uranos looked to the priest holding his
chains. "Look well to the wings of your Shadow now,
brother of the pit. When the Flame dances, all darkness fails.
And when the motherland comes to
cleanse the land, naught will remain to give your Dark-god
cover-"

The priest struck him. "Ba-Al is not blown as a feather on the
breeze. The Loving One will make you forget all but itself-
and soon!"

Uranos spat blood from a cut lip. "Look about you. So
gather now the spirits of the murdered dead! Think you they
shall not guide their avengers, call through your streets for an
end to Ba-Al's rule? I say to you, the Five Walled City shall
vanish from the earth, and even its name will be lost to the
memory of man. Ba-Al must seek again the pit from which
he crawled, and those who serve him will be left to face the
light they fear more than any sword. That which you have
called up shall be master, not servant, before it is also sent
once more into its own place!"

He spoke not as one voicing threats but with such assurance
that he might have been a prophet who believed implicitly in
his vision of a future shortly to come.

Again the priest raised his hand to strike, but he did not
complete that blow. The roaring had faded somewhat, and
now they heard a pounding, as if someone ran through the
halls. A priest, who wore a brazen corselet over his robe and
carried a helm within the crook of his arm, came hastily from
behind a row of pillars.

"The Murians-" he panted. "They have sunk ships across the
mouth of the harbor after loosing two fire galleys to ram in
among the fleet. They landed other forces to the north, and
the herdsmen of the plains have revolted to join them. Magos
bids you bring these carrion forth to the pyramid above the
walls that he may show them what power we can send out to
eat them up!"

This-this was what he had been sent to do, said the will within
Ray. This was a part of the battle in which he would be the
weapon.

The first sharp consciousness of that ebbed as the -priests
hurried him on with Uranos. Men who were

dressed half as priests and half as mailed warriors closed
about them and brought them out of the temple.

They could hear the roar better, see the glare of fire beyond
the walls and canals, spreading from the docks. There was a
tenseness to be felt in the city, its streets crowded with soldiers
so that the party from the temple. was slowed. Shock was a
part of it, Ray sensed. The Atlanteans had not expected this
blow-not so soon-and not here. How had the Murian forces
managed to move so fast and with such secrecy that they
appeared to have caught their enemies unaware-bottled the
Atlanteans in their city?

It must be past dawn, but the sky was murky with darkening
clouds. And to those one of their guard called their attention.

"See, your Sun is veiled. So does Ba-Al draw his protective
curtains over us this day!"

Uranos was jostled against Ray, and the American noticed the
other was breathing deeply, drawing the air, tainted though it
was with all the pollution of the city, into his lungs eagerly.
Then he remembered that his fellow prisoner had been a long
time captive, and to him this air was fresh with a kind of
freedom.

"They take us to the west wall. See-there is the pyramid,"
Uranos observed.

There was an erection of alternate red and black blocks, very
dark under the lowering sky. Its top was a square platform
reaching perhaps some ten feet higher than the adjacent wall.
Up there a small group stood awaiting them.

The flight of stairs leading aloft was very steep, its treads
narrow. Twice Ray stumbled, to be finally pulled and hauled
along by the guards.

Magos was there. And beside him, still in a gold court robe,
with no martial trappings of helm or body armor, Chronos.
But the latter did not turn to look as the prisoners were half
boosted onto the platform. He was biting the nails on his
stubby fingers, staring out, not at the smoke and flame above
the harbor, but at
the distant clouds, so 'low-lying. An officer came up the steps
of the pyramid at breakneck speed.

"Dread One," he reported, "those who entered the city from
the ruined temple have been driven back again-"

Chronos turned his head. There were flecks of white at the
corners of his fleshy lips. His eyes were wild and did not seem
to really see outward but rather inward. And Ray knew that
this would-be ruler of the world was now filled with fear.

"Kill! Kill!" he screeched. "Let there be blood and burning. Let
not one escape! Return not unless you bring also their heads-
each and every head!"

The officer passed Ray in his going. And the American noted
that his face was drawn and haggard, as if

`the news he had brought was not good but ill and that he had
reported defeat instead of part-victory.

It was Magos who gave the next order. Chronos stared once
more at the clouds from which came the sound that had been
like a distant murmur of ugly, angry surf within the temple and
that was not the raging of a sea gone mad but the clamor of a
major battle.

"Place them at the pillars-lash them fast," Magos commanded
his priests.

The platform on which they stood was ringed with pillars.
They were strong, firmly rooted, and several feet taller than
Ray and Uranos who were now bound to them. Uranos
nodded across to Ray as Magos came

_	to inspect their bonds narrowly. Then the high priest
	called to Chronos.

"All is in readiness, Dread One. Shall it be done?"

His manner was outwardly subservient, but malice lurked
beneath the lip service he gave the Poseidon. Almost
reluctantly Chronos came away from his view of the battle.

His fingers, bloody where he had bitten the nail quicks, were
pressed to his wobbling paunch as if some inner pain thrust
there. But he summoned the energy to laugh at Uranos.

"Ha-true blood dies-Atlantis falls-is that not what they said all
those years agone? Well, those who mouthed that did not
know the Loving One!" He looked then to Ray.

"Sydyk out of Uighur-more or less than that, Magos tells me-
If you are he-or that-which the Naacals called from another
world, then now is the time we shall see whose calling has
summoned a greater power. And I think that you are the less-
since Phedor was able to summon you when he wrought
magic with what was once against your flesh. Such magic
moves lesser men, and when you answered to it, then you
proved that you were not of the Outer Ones, the terrible ones
we have dealings with. So shall you be food for the greater
and aid it in bringing forth more of its kind-"

Some of that made sense, but not all. It was apparent that the
Atlanteans knew or guessed his identity, thought that he might
be some focus of unknown power-but, was that true? Ray
sought to reach the will within him. It lay there still, but to his
appeal there came no answer.

"Can those beyond"-Chronos waved his hand-"can they see
clearly?"

"Yes. They have far-seeing glasses that will be trained upon
us."

"Then begin, begin! What do you wait for? Or is there danger
for us?" The Poseidon gave back a step or two, edging for the
stair head.

"Never, Dread One. The Loving One will not turn against its
masters. Prepare them for the embrace-"

Guards were on Ray, slashing at his worn tunic, ripping it
down so that he stood bare to the waist. One drew his dagger
and cut twice across the American's breast, leaving a shallow
cross-shaped wound that welled blood. There was no harm in
the cuts, and the reason for them Ray could not guess. Uraiios,
he saw, had been similarly marked.

"Go!" As Magos gave permission, the priestly guards departed
with the speed of those leaving an ill-omened place. And
Chronos withdrew to the very edge of the
platform. It was plain that for all Magos's reassurance, he
did not want to front too closely this ultimate weapon. _

Magos held a brown bowl of such rough fashioning that he
might have patted it together moments earlier from the
mud of some riverbank. In this he dropped dully glowing
bits of charcoal taken from a footed brazier. Setting it
equidistant from the pillars and the prisoners, he puffed the
coals into glowing life and then tossed a handful of black
powder on them.

Curling brown smoke followed and with it such a stench as
made Ray cough, while it irritated his eyes until tears ran
down his cheeks. It was as if all the unclean things in the city
had been reduced to the handful of powder and set afire.

The smoke cleared, but the nauseating odor still hung there.
Chronos had now retreated one step down the stairway.
But Magos was smiling, and all the rest of his life-if he had
much more of life, Ray thought-he would remember that
smile.

"Has your evil failed to answer your call?" asked Uranos.
"You have produced smoke and a mighty smell. But what
else follows, Magos?"

"Look before you, Uranos. Even now That Which Crawls
comes to claim our offerings, that it may wax strong
enough to open wide a door for all its blood-kin!"
answered the priest.

Ray stared at the stone to which the priest pointed. There
was an odd-looking shadow there. And it was growing!
Under his gaze it gathered form, as if it drew substance
from the very material on which it rested. And as it grew in
girth, so did it gain in solidarity. No longer was it shadow.

16

FOR Ray the whole world narrowed to that shadow which
was no longer shadow. Bloated sides swelled yet larger; a
head pushed up and out, a blind head with no mark of eyes.
Yet the head wove back and forth as if it quested by either
sight or sound. Then green-black horns snapped into being,
to break the wormlike outline of the head.

It had no legs but, beneath, a gaping mouth that puckered
and relaxed rhythmically, wavered, thickened, grew in
extension; two tentacles, and on these were ulcer pits of
suckers. In color it was basically black, yet splotched here
and there with a dull and loathsome green, and from it
came an odor to make a man retch. A giant snail lacking any
shell, a slug- Comparisons arose in Ray's mind, but none
were as stomach-turning as the thing itself.

Magos came forward, and, at either the sound or the
vibration of his step, the monster's head whipped around.
Its long neck stretched; the horns waved vigorously.

"Seek your prey, dweller in the Outer Darkness,"
commanded the priest. "The blood drips to beckon you-
seek your prey!"

The thing raised its head high. Ray wanted to close his eyes,
but he could not. A moment or two and then the cuts in his
flesh or Uranos's would guide it.

Those horns continued to' weave jointlessly, as if testing the
air. Then suddenly it lowered the worm head and humped
its back as might a slug in movement. As smoothly as a
flow of polluted water, it glided toward the prisoners.

It had chosen, Ray saw. His horror at that moment was so
great that it paralyzed him-for he was the choice. After it
moved a short distance, it gathered its bulk together in a
crouch. Again the horn-waving head arose as if to verify the
scent. The stench from it was a
gas. Ray wanted the thing to spring now-to finish this. But
instead it waited, as if it savored--like a

0refinement of the promised feast-the disgust and fear
of its victim, deliberately prolonging the advance as though to
suck in his repugnance.

Then it flowed again-nearer. And from this there was no
escape. No escape -or was there? Was it Ray Osborne or was it
the will which had brought him here that stirred then? Suppose-
What he supposed he did not know but only grasped wildly-as a man caught in the
sucking maw of quicksand would catch at any branch
overhanging that spot-for something within him with which to
do battle.

Black-black-the creeping thing of the Dark-the blackness. What
fought black? White-light! The white of the temple walls of
Mu; the white of a Naacal's robe;

_	the white of-of Flame! But fire was red-yellow- Not so!
The Flame was white-white with a dazzling purity. White! The
will within him, all within him that dreaded death, as mankind
dreaded extinction, stiffened into defense. A white Flame

And this thing from the pit-it dreaded that Flame. Ray felt it
check, felt the small flash of uneasiness that lay behind that
check. Its head jerked faster from side to side. Now it was no
longer silent. A low, whining note hurt his ears. Or was that
sound at all?

Flame-a shooting Flame-a Flame that moved and made a wall
before that thing. It was there-he could actually see it now-
white Flame that might have

_	seared his eyes with its force and yet did not. And in
	him that will swelled and flowered but-only through

;.	him. So this was the why and wherefore-he was the
instrument through which- Then the will blotted out his own
thoughts; it must have the whole of him in this struggle.

Again the thing gave a little ground, and its keening whine grew
the shriller. Fear-its fear grew! He must use that fear as the
handler of a savage beast uses a lash to ward off attack. And
like a whip he cracked his thought:

"Back, nameless evil, back into the world wherein you were set
to dwell! Cross not into this! Back to the foulness that is
rightfully yours!"

But the thing retreated no farther, only lay there, its head
darting from side to side as if it butted against a wall. Then Ray
knew Magos was holding it, using his counter powers to drive
it on. He, too, drew upon some inner will or force. Ray
faltered. The Loving One humped forward. Flame-the Flame
was there

Again the slug's advance was stayed; the angry whine arose.
Under Magos's urging it rocked back and forth, its baffled cry
growing louder. But this time Ray held. How long could he do
so?

They were locked in silent battle. Magos and his creature of the
Dark striving to find some weakness, Ray the channel for the
will that drew heavily upon his strength. He was weakening.
The thing flowed-stopped, flowed again.

"Brother, give it my body!" Faint and far away was that call.
"Give it me and gain time-"

"No!" Ray rallied. His body was trembling; he felt as if only the
chains that bound him to the pillar kept him on his feet.
Forward crept the Loving One

"On!" commanded Magos.

"Back!" ordered Ray and the will.

Noise-shouting

Ray's concentration broke. The Loving One leaped. Too late
the American tried to set the barrier again. A tentacle slapped
across his body; the suckers fastened greedily on the bloody
cuts. He shrank and yet could not move from the
contamination of that embrace.

Flame-Flame-but there was no Flame that would touch the
thing now mad with blood hunger. Only he was not yet done!
It was as if deep within him he now fronted that will and
demanded of it as it had demanded of him.

Ray's head raised. Come, he told that will-be with me now!
And if it had made of him a servant and a weapon, so now in
the depths of extremity he reversed that. Into him flowed, after
a second or two of amazed
resistance, a kind of power such as he had never felt before.

The loathsome flesh pressed to him quivered. Slowly, with
the added torture of physical pain, the tentacles loosened as,
reluctantly, fighting, the monster drew back. Magos had
released his pressure. Too late he saw what was happening.

"Flame!" Ray thought he shouted that aloud. It was an order,
to his own strength, to the will he had seized. "Flame!"

Again it was there, the leaping, dazzling Flame.

"Hold-those of Mu climb the stair!" Words-without
meaning. All that existed in the world was that Flame created
out of thought, which must be held, and held, and held

The Loving One twisted and turned, hissing, but it retreated
from the Flame. There was a cry from the stairs.

"Hold!" shouted Uranos again. "Hold but a little longer,
brother!"

Magos was desperate. Ray felt the loosing of the Red priest's
power. He was strong-maybe too strong. But if he won, he
must first face a fight, a real fight

The high priest strode back and forth across the platform,
his thoughts sharp and swift, like thunderbolts, prodding the
thing. The Loving One reared, writhed, twisted, crept
forward

And the Flame dwindled. It was not Ray's spirit but his
body that weakened. And again the tentacles closed about
him.

"Ray! Ray!" A call. He tried to draw upon the will, but there
was nothing left-

White fire-the Flame again? Ray raised his head.

No, just a ray, touching the horns of the Loving One. It
writhed against him. But the tentacles dropped, tearing his
flesh. There was a roaring in his head, he saw distortedly, as
through a watery mist.

Clash of steel against steel. Then he was falling, free of the
pillar. Someone caught him, steadied his limp body, lowered
him gently. He saw a face wavering in

and out of focus. Cho-from far away and very long ago-
Cho "The-Loving-One-" He tried to warn and thought that
perhaps his words were not even a whisper. But those ice-
blue eyes understood; lips curved in a smile as frost-filled as
a winter storm.

"Watch, brother."

The Murian raised his hand. Cupped in the palm was a
crystal, flashing rainbow lights. And from its center rayed a
shaft of white light. Again Cho played that upon the horns
of the thing and so drove the crawler . back, for it could not
escape the beam he turned upon it.

Magos stood beyond, his face contorted into a mask that
had only a faint humanity in it. And the power in him-Ray
could feel it aimed at them-at the Loving One. Yet the
monster was out of his control.

"Devil!" Magos screamed.

"Drinker of blood," Cho returned. "Listen now to this beast
of yours. I think it hungers. And is not true that when it
comes to your call, it must be fed, one way or another?
Behold-the reckoning!"

The Loving One, as if goaded beyond endurance, sprang-
not at the Murians but at the priest. Its tentacles closed about
Magos with the grim grip of a trap. The priest tore one arm
free and thrust at the obscene roundness of the slug body.
His dagger sank into the black hide, but when it was
withdrawn again, there ° was no trace of a wound on the
sleek skin. And all the while the Loving One fed.

Ray's head fell back on Cho's arm. He had been too close to
that himself to watch now. But the Murian did -r not look
away, and when the monster would have turned at last, Cho
held it with the beam.

There was one scream. Cho's arm tightened about y the
American. Then the Murian raised the crystal for the last
time.

"It is done," he said. "Now we destroy the doer."

Ray looked once more. A tattered bundle of stained rags lay
upon the stone. Above that oozed the monster,
and it was crooning to itself. Just as Magos's rage had earlier
reached to them, so did now a horrible satisfaction.

The light became a sharp sword of radiance. At its touch the
creature ceased to croon its contentment and moved uneasily.
Then it whined, shrilly, its plaint hurting in one's head.

Now the beam changed color, from white to faint rose, from
rose to red. Then it rippled, as if rising in ever strengthening
waves from a concealed source. And in Ray's body he felt the
rhythm of that rippling.

While the Loving One twisted, writhed, its whining became a
vibration, too high for human ears to catch any longer. Then
it started to dissolve. Its outlines blurred; a black pool oozed
slowly from under it. And the stench was a sickness in the air.

Still Cho held the light steady on that writhing bulk. Once the
creature seemed to make a last desperate effort to survive. Its
head lifted, the body heaved as if to hurl itself at the Murian,
but the light chained it fast.

So it perished, the body becoming a pool of liquid
corruption, which, in turn, was consumed by the ray. Then
there was a shouting on the platform, echoed from the street
below.

"The city falls," Cho said. "They throw down swords and call
for mercy. And now-we must see to your wounds, brother-"

Another Murian in armor went to his knees beside the
American. Under that helmet, surely-Ray frowned -a face he
had seen. Yes-this was he who had led the prisoners.

"You-then Taut did as he promised-"

"Surely, lord, and better-" began the other, but Cho shook his
head.

"Time for talking later. This now-" He smeared a paste across
Ray's breast. "Now, a cloak about you. We must get you into
the hands of the Naacals as soon as we can-"

"Lord!" One of the Murians spoke; his hand rested on
Uranos's shoulder. "What of this Atlantean?"

"Cho." Ray summoned what small strength he still possessed.
"This is the real Poseidon, Uranos-their .their prisoner, too.
Listen to him-"

"That shall be done."

Ray sank back on the cloak. The invading party here .;

was a small one, eight  Murrain and four wild-looking
rogues who might have come from Taut's own ship.
Uranos knelt beside him. 	

"Warriors' high salute to you, comrade. And for your
courtesy in remembering me-my thanks. Of the Atlanteans
taken-I do not think that one will find .< any to speak for
him-"

Ray looked in the direction the other pointed. Two of the
Murians were tying the hands of Chronos behind his fat
body.

"He was captured-"

"Yes. It was his hate and his cowardice that kept him d here.
He wanted to witness our ending, and he feared the battle
below. So for him the game is now lost, and I do not think
he will relish what will follow."

3

Ray listened in a dreamy detachment. The ointment Cho had
used on his wounds had taken away the pain. And he felt
queerly light and empty. The will was gone once more, and
this time for good-or so he believed. All about him was hazy,
as if the place, the men, all else save he himself, had no reality.
He was alive; the Loving One-whatever that horror had been-
was gone, taking Magos with it. And Chronos was a prisoner.

"It seems"-Cho returned from the head of the stairs-"that we
must stay here yet a while. To travel the streets now is a
matter of fighting; there are pockets of desperate men who
will not surrender." He sat down on his heels by Ray and
slipped from his own arm a band of black, transferring its
coolness to the American's limp arm. "This was, in a way, our
key to the city."

"How?" The touch of the armlet had an odd effect on
Ray. It steadied the world and brought it into focus again.

"Captain Taut brought it and the Murians to speak for him.
And Taut knew an inner way to bring troops inside the
walls."

"As I said," Uranos commented, "there were secrets of
which Chronos knew nothing, which even the Red Robes
had not explored."

"But-" Ray touched the armlet with his other hand, running
his fingers along it. "How did Mu get here-so soon?"

"Ask the Re Mu, ask the Naacals-ask those who appeared to
us to be so blind to danger and so lacking in preparedness.
The legions of Uighur came in from the east, and our fleet
from Mayax. But I sailed with Taut in the vanguard,
claiming my right-"

"Your right?

Cho looked surprised. "Are we not sword brothers? The Re
Mu said that you were already in service within the Red
Land-so thus I would come. I think we set a record-look-"
He held out his palm and showed red blisters on the skin.
"Even officers took their turn at the oars when there was
need. Taut had the command, and I am but a. first-year
swordsman when compared to his experience in such raids.
He knows this coast better than any warder. Once, when he
was pursued by a guard ship whose commander could not
be bought off, he stumbled upon a secret. It is a narrow
break in the cliffs, so small a fault one cannot believe that it
gives upon aught worthwhile. But there is a scrap of beach
and a cave, and then a tunnel that must have been cut by
men before the recording of time. The tunnel leads under
the city to the lower chambers of the temple of the Flame.

"We lanced there by night. And a party remained to lead in
later forces from the fleet. Taut swore that the sons of the
Shadow depended so much upon their rings of walls and
water that they would be part vanquished already if we
appeared in their midst. And I believe he had the right of
that.

"At dawn we captured a Red Robe, and I think he mistook
us for spirits of the murdered Sun-born, for he told us
freely that Magos planned to summon the Loving One and
feed it well. The nature of that monster was such that it
would thereby be able to bring from its own pit others of
its kind, loosing thus a weapon we could not stand against.

"We thought that what he drooled about would happen in
the temple of Ba-Al, and we fought to reach there. It was
not until later we saw what chanced' here and knew of our
mistake. Without the walls the legions of Uighur are in
action, and with them those of Atlantis who have never
taken kindly to rule by the priests of the Greater Dark. Now
such resistance that remains is being hunted out, pocket by
pocket, while ever more men come through the temple
passage-"

"And this?" Ray pointed to the crystal.

"Of the Naacals' making, but they have only, a few of them.
This was sent to me just before I entered the passage. We
were warned that we must be very close to that monster
before it could be used. But, Ray, twice we saw that evil
thing retreat, and yet you were bound and had no weapon
at all!"

"He has done what I would have sworn none could do!"
Uranos burst out. "He beat back that fear with his will, held
the Dark at bay."

"No," said Ray, his fingers still slipping about the jet armlet,
that touch which tied him to the here and now. "I did what
was set upon me to do, I summoned the Flame-"

"The Flame?" questioned Cho.

"The white Flame," repeated Ray, once more slipping into
that odd state of detachment.

"The undying Flame," Cho said. "But that-that is not of
man, for man to look upon! Truly the shield of the
motherland was raised above you on this day!"

"Once that Flame burned in the sanctuary of the altar in this
city." Uranos spoke then.

"But never will it so again," answered Cho.

"What do you mean?" asked the Atlantean prince.
moon shot is your simple gamble-a schoolroom exer-
cise compared to this," Burton retorted. 	-

"When do you make the first try?" General Colfax spoke for
the first time.

"In exactly fourteen hours, five minutes. Then we open the gate
and hold it for an hour. Dr. Burton activates the seeker
according to the equation-"

"And then-we just wait." The general spoke as if to himself.

"We wait," echoed Fordham.

"And maybe," added Hargreaves, "we just go on waiting-
forever."

RAY struggled up on one arm to look out into the main hall
of the ruined temple. Part of the roof was open to the night
sky, and light rods were set in the old brackets to illuminate the
stone blocks now serving Murian war captains as tables and
seats.

"How is it with you?"

The American looked over his shoulder at an approaching
Naacal.

"Better-"		

The priest smiled. "So you're weary of our tending r and
would be up and about? Well-" His fingers touched Ray's wrist
and hunted for his pulse. "Perhaps if I do not suffer such folly,
you will be out on your own anyway." He clapped his hands,
and a man wearing the shorter white tunic of a temple servant
brought clothing.

With help Ray slipped a soft leather tunic over the bandages
that wrapped him mummy-wise from armpit to waist. Over
that went a kilt reinforced with metal strips, but no breast plate.
The priest waved that aside.

"You will not need it, and the weight is too much for your
wounds."

"Cho-?" asked Ray.

"At present he is on duty at the western gate."

"And the city?" _

"It has surrendered, save for the inner keep of the palace.
When most of the guard discovered Chronos taken, they threw
down their arms. Those who still fight are the Red Robes of
Ba-A1 and such others as have good reason to believe they
deserve no mercy at our hands."

"Ray!" Cho came swiftly across the hall. He stopped a short
distance off to survey the American from head to foot. "Good-
warrior ready. But you have no sword. This perhaps-I took it
but a short time ago from the
captain of the gate-" He had in his hands a belt and sheathed
sword, the hilt of which gleamed red with a pattern of
rubies.

"Now-that is better. You must be ready-"

"For what? The Naacal said most of the fighting was over."

"Not for battle, no. But the Re Mu enters the city at dawn.
All but the inner part of the palace is now ours."

"And Chronos?"

"Swords from the private guard at the Great One hold him
safe. The -Re Mu wishes to see you."

And I, thought Ray, wish to see him. There are questions-but
whether he would ever get a chance to ask them, that he did
not know. That sense of unreality had closed about him
again. He watched and listened, but he was not a part of all
this. And now no touching of the armlet reunited him with
this world in which he stood, like a spectator at a vivid
pageant.

He was with Cho as the Re Mu entered the Five Walled City.
He saw the white war chariot of the Sun drawn by snorting
stallions crunch over the debris of battle. And he even copied
Cho's war salute to the Emperor and went forward with the
Murian when that ruler beckoned to them.

"I see you, my lords-" The Re Mu gave the formal greeting
as Ray again followed Cho's lead and touched knee to the
dust of the roadway.

Cho bowed his head to give the conventional answer: "We
are yours, Great One, with all loyalty and strength."

But Ray looked up into those remote blue eyes. If the Re Mu
read his thoughts here and now, he knew that Ray did not
echo that and that his outward show of homage was only
that-show.

"Never, I think, has the Sun been so ably served, my lords-"
returned the Emperor. "Come to me within the hour-"

"We hear and obey," Cho agreed, and they got to their feet
as the chariot rumbled on.

Hear and obey, yes; he had heard and would obey-in this
much, but not by choice. And he would have

answers- Trailing Cho, the American followed the royal
procession into the heart of the city. Townspeople were
being herded along by Murian troops, also converging on
the center of their half-destroyed capital.

Though the soldiers tried to keep some sort of order and
clear lanes through the throng, the ways were choked. Cho
appealed to a harassed officer.

"We are summoned by the Great One. How may we-?"

The officer threw up his hands. "Not this way, Sunborn.
Take to the lesser streets, even to the roofs, but you will
make no haste-"

Cho took his advice, bringing them into a side way and
finally weaving an in-and-out route to reach the temple once
more.

"Where is Uranos?" Ray asked as they came at last to their
goal. He was panting with effort and had to lean against a
wall.

"I do not know. He went to the Re Mu last night. If he is as
he claims-" But Cho broke off, for they were now a part of
a crowd of officers and men drawn up behind a hastily
arranged throne. Blocks from the fane had been set together
and draped with brilliant war cloaks. There the Re Mu had
taken his seat to judge the city. About him was a glittering
mass of polished and bejeweled armor, with here and there
the plain white robe of a Naacal for contrast, while at the
Emperor's right, on a lower block seat, the Naacal U-Cha
leaned forward a little as if he were so shortsighted he had
difficulty in making out with clarity the scene before him.

As Cho and Ray mingled with the warriors, there was a
sharp and demanding roll of war drums, four. of them
together, standing waist-high to the drummers on the steps.
And as that died away, so did .the surf like murmur of the
throng.

The Re Mu's face was expressionless, yet in some strange
way it was as if he saw not just the multitude of people
gathered there but each and every man or woman in it as an
individual whom he was to judge.
Ray watched people in the nearer ranks drop their heads,
look to left or right, but in the end they once more raised
their eyes as if commanded to do so by a power they could
not disobey.

Then the Emperor's hand lifted but an inch or two from the
clasp it held, fingers locked upon the hilt of a bared sword
that stood upright between his knees, and pointed to the
cracked and stained stone under his feet. At that slightest of
gestures, one of the warriors moved out a pace or so to his
left. Under the edge of that man's helm Ray saw a face that
he knew. It was Uranos.

"People of Atlantis-" The Re Mu's voice rang with the same
compelling note as the drums. "Dwellers under the cloak of
the Shadow-"

A ripple crossed the crowded square. They were falling to
their knees, holding up their hands, some in swift abasement,
others more reluctantly.

"Forgive-" A kind of sobbing wail, which grew stronger,
followed that ripple.

"Some things go beyond the bounds of forgiveness. Look
you, choosers of the Dark, upon the stains that stand upon
these walls, think you how they came to bear such red
testimony against you." The Emperor's sword swung up,
and the rising sun caught fire along its blade, making it flame.
It pointed to the walls where the Sun-born had had their
ending.

"We did as those over us commanded, Great One. Forgive!"

"And I say unto you, men of heart would have risen and put
down any who gave such commands. It becomes no man in
a day of judgment to hide behind an order that was evil,
saying, `I did as I was commanded.' In each man at birth is
placed the knowledge of good and evil, and each day, each
hour, is he allowed choices of both. If he chooses ill out of
fear or weakness or lust or greed or rage, still he has had a
choice, and by that choice he shall be judged when the final
day comes. When your forefathers came to this land, they
were given two treasures, that they might look upon them
and remember the right-" Again his sword flashed

and this time pointed to the pillars still covered with:: the
dusty, tattered cloths. "Behold, those now go cloaked  from
sight because of shame and hate and fear, because you dare
not look upon what you have so openly betrayed. Thus did
you blot out the symbols of right. and justice, choosing
rather the cover of the Shadow,,` some of you following it
even to the pit. So must this, city be erased from the sight of
men-blood cover` blood. Is not that justice-the kind you
understand the. best, men of Atlantis?"

"Mercy-mercy-" It was a thin wail-from the women and
children, Ray believed. He saw no man in that throng give
tongue.

"And what mercy did you show in your day, men of
Atlantis? Think upon that! No, this city shall be as if it never
was-and that by nightfall. And you who have made it an
abode of uncleanness, what shall be done with you?"

They were silent now, save here and there where a child or
woman cried.

"Yes, an abiding place for unclean things have you made this
city. Behold, this temple lies in ruins while that of Ba-Al
proudly stands. Give me a reason, men of Atlantis, why you
should not also suffer the fate of your city?"

"Mercy, Great One. If not for us, then for the children of
our courtyards." A single voice raised that plea.

"Harken to my words. There are different justices and
differing judgments. You are weak and foolish, but evil was
taught. unto you-the most of you. It did not spring in all of
you equally. Therefore, I say unto you, go forth from this
city, taking naught save what you can carry of food and
clothing within your own two hands. And be forth of the
gates by sundown-lest the greater judgment overtake you in
the end."

Uranos moved then and went on his knees before the,
Emperor.

"Great One, these are my people. Suffer me to go with
them, to lead them until they can .build anew-"
"Uranos, in the past these turned their faces from your
house, set aside the rule of those of your blood, to take unto
themselves a leader of their own choice, another of those
choices that they made freely. In the motherland, honor and
a service fitted to you await your coming. In this place
where the blood of your kindred still stains the wall before
your eyes, do you say this? Do you wish to lead these
people?"

"Great One, you have spoken much of choices in this life
and the making of them, and thereafter abiding by the
results of such choosing. Though I am of the Sunborn, yet
am I also of this land, sharing it with these people. So do I
choose to go with them, and that is a free choice. Alo, I will
abide by all that comes of it."

The Re Mu's sword rose high in the air, then descended to
touch Uranos lightly on the right shoulder and on the left.
Finally he reversed that blade and held out the hilt, which
Uranos kissed.

"Listen well, men of Atlantis," the Emperor commanded. "I
set before you now such a leader as you have not had since
the old days when this was a fair, clean land. He is of the
Sun-born, yet also is he of Atlantis, an Atlantean of
Atlanteans, and no foreign conqueror. So I say unto you,
cherish him and obey him and abide by such a choice.

"Uranos, Poseidon of Atlantis, do you swear to establish
once more the dwelling of the Flame, to walk with your
people in the light, warring upon the Shadow and all its
legions, to hold to the law and the justice, under the Sun, to
be a sword and shield for the motherland in her hour of
need?"

"Upon the Flame do I swear it, for me and for my people,
Great One."

For the second time he kissed the hilt of the Re Mu's sword
and then arose and turned to face those watching him from
below. They gave him no greeting, but as he walked down
the steps of the temple, they pressed forward. Some went to
their knees, kissing his hands, the hem of his cloak. With
them about him, he turned once more to face the throne
now above him.

"We shall obey the commands laid upon us, and at sunset
we shall be gone," he said.

The ripple spread once more across the square, and Ray
thought the people were preparing to scatter. Only once
more the drums rolled, and that summons held them. In the
issuing silence the Re Mu spoke again.

"Men of Atlantis, you have come to judgment. Now do you
also judge. What -will you do with this man?"

The Murians about the throne parted, and a party of guards
came through. Chronos, white, his face twitching, his head
jerking from side to side, was half led, half dragged in their
midst.

Sound then, such a rising snarl came from the crowd as
made Ray step back a pace. He had heard, read, of mob
fury, but he had never seen it in action. This was as horrible
in its way as the Loving One

"To us, Great One, to us!" The scream arose from a
hundred and then thousands of throats.

"What say you, Chronos? Is this justice? Do you wish it?"

To Ray's amazement the deposed Poseidon lifted his head,
stilling that crazy jerking.

"Yes," he answered. Did he have some idea that that meant
escape, or was he mad?

The Re Mu nodded. "The choice is yours, so be it."

As the Murian guards stepped back, the mob licked up in a
wave and Chronos was gone. No scream, no sound, save a
kind of worrying-an eddy in the mob-then nothing. The
throng broke, streamed away from the square, and the Re
Mu rose from his improvised throne and went back into the
temple, the Naacals closing in about him. An officer came to
Cho and Ray.

"The Great One wishes you."

They came into that part of the temple where there was a
stone much hacked and defaced with scorching, a central
altar once, Ray believed. And by that now stood both the Re
Mu and U-Cha. It was to Cho the Emperor first spoke.

"You asked of us the post of greatest danger, Sunborn. And
you wrought well thereafter. Also by your
hands was that spawn of evil-that thing summoned from
another world-slain. What do you claim from us in return?"

"Naught. The duty was mine."

The Re Mu smiled. "Naught-the answer of youth and
courage and what lies in the morning of life. But your
naught is not enough. To you the serpent, and after you
.those of your sons and sons' sons. Come you-"

Cho knelt at the Emperor's feet. From his own war helm
the Re Mu detached a circlet of a striking serpent, fitting it
on Cho's, while those about raised their bared swords.

"You-" The Re Mu looked to Ray. "Ah, yes, you have that
to ask of us also. No, by rights you can demand. Since you
did not surrender your will to duty, the choice was taken
from you."

"Yes," Ray replied shortly.

"You were not of our blood; this was not your quarrel. In
our moment of great danger, we forged of you a weapon
of which we had need. If you think all this, it is the truth. I
have spoken much of choices and of standing by the result
of such choices. We chose to use a stranger who trusted us,
and this was ill doing. But for this I have a single answer:
my choice lay between the good of one man and the
salvation of all my people.

"We could not reach into this land; it was too well guarded
by barriers that were not only visible men and steel, walls
and water, but also that which had been raised by Magos
and his adepts to speedily trip any of our blood daring to
venture here. I think you had a taste of their weapons when
you were taken at last.

"Because you were not of us, you had certain inborn
safeguards we could not hope to develop. Thus we put into
you that which we had that was needful to open doors.
You were the key, the only one we had."

"Even to the Loving One?" asked Ray evenly. He had not
knelt as did Cho. He was gazing eye to eye with this man
who ruled most of a world. And now there was no awe
between them.

"Even to the Loving One," agreed the Re Mu. "That was
only the first, the scout, if you will, of an army of its kind
Magos would have loosed upon us. It, too, was a key, for
each time it was summoned, and fed, it grew a stronger tie
with this world. Eventually it would have brought its kind-
and perhaps worse-for the place from which Magos
summoned it is alien and, to us, always the stronghold of
the enemy. And we do not know what other horrors that
pit may hold. So you were to be the bait to bring it forth
when there was still a chance to deal with it and close that
gate.

"And I say that, in all our history, no man ever served the
motherland as have you, a stranger. Nor has any man ever
faced such evil and held it powerless for a space. It is not in
my power to reward you fittingly, for to speak of rewards
is to belittle what you have done. But ask whatever you
desire-"

"Return to my own time and place," asked Ray.

The Re Mu stood in silence. Then he said slowly, "our
knowledge, all that exists, shall be yours. Whether this can be
done, I do not know.  But if it cannot--?"

"I do not know. Only that I am"-it was Ray's turn to
hesitate, to find it difficult to put into words his feelings-
"not of this time. It may be that I cannot return, but I must
try-"

"So be it!"

As Ray stepped back, Cho matched step with him. The
Murian was sober-faced.

"Do-do you hate us, brother?" he asked. "Because of what
they willed you to do? I did not know that this was so. But
I can see how it would raise anger in a man-"

"Hate-" Ray repeated. He felt no emotion, only a kind of
weary emptiness, an odd dislocation, as if he were not a
part of life any more but existed in a place not meant for
him. A swimmer in the ocean, looking upon all the wonders
and colors of a world that was not his own and never
could be, in which he was the alien visitor, might feel this
way, Ray decided. Since he had been emptied of the will
and seen the Loving One die,
- he had been an onlooker only. And to be real again" No, not
hate," he said more to himself than Cho. r "Only tired-I am
tired-"

"And-if you cannot return?" The. Murian put out his hand but
did not quite touch Ray, as if he, also, felt they were somehow
separate and even a meeting of -. fingers upon fingers could
not in any way unite them.

"I do not know-"

Cho's hand dropped to his side, but he continued to walk
beside Ray, now and then glancing at him. He was tired, Ray
thought, and now he went back to that place in the temple
where he had been brought for treatment, stretching out on
the couch there. Cho had y`- thrown himself down on a
neighboring pile of cloaks and was quickly asleep. But though
he was so weary, the American could not sleep himself. He
shut his eyes and tried to picture-yes, this time - tried to see the
trees, the silent forest.

The Re Mu had offered him whatever he wished. A . ship
might be the answer, a ship to the north, and then across the
plain and into the dusk of the forest-to the `:- place where he
had entered this time. And what if he did come to stand once
more on that very spot and nothing happened?

He heard a small movement nearby and opened his eyes. U-
Cha, looking. very old-old and faded in his white robe, as if
that had far more substance than the frail body it covered-
stood there gazing down at him.

"You were that will," Ray said.

"I was that will--in part," agreed the Naacal.

"But," he added, "the will was less than you held it to be,
though you may not believe that, for the strength behind the
will was more than half yours."

"But I did not want---"

"To do our bidding? Yes, that is also true. Only; think upon
this-when the will had need, there were depths to draw upon
such as you will not find among us. Different you are,
complex to our measuring, for you have been shaped in other
days by a life we know nothing of. But I think that what you
are now is not

what you were when you stepped from your time into ours.
A smith draws molten metal from the heat and beats upon it.
He chills, reheats, works. And what he has in his hands at the
end of his labors is not what he held at the beginning."

Ray sat up. Under the bandages his wounds pained him a little.
And somehow that pain was faintly reassuring, making him
more alive instead of only a detached onlooker.

"Do you mean-that this change might keep me here?"

"It is a thought that perhaps you should hold in your mind,
my son, for this much I am sure of-you are not the same
man who came to us. Perhaps that change began even as you
entered from your world and is of a process like unto
growth. So-"

"So I should be prepared to fail. Very well, you have warned
me. But will you also help me?"

"With all that we have-we know-yes."

"Not here," said Ray, "nor in Mu, but in the north-"

U-Cha looked at him in surprise. "To the north-in the Barren
Lands? But we have no temple, no place of learning-"

"I only know that it is from the north I came and there I must
return. Also that it must be soon, I believe, or not at all."

U-Chas head bowed. "So be it."

Then he raised his thin hand, on the back of which the old
veins made heavy blue ridges. And in the air between them he
drew a sign that to Ray was not visible.

"Let your spirit rest and your mind give ease to your body,
for it is not this day, nor tomorrow, nor perhaps many
tomorrows, that we can aid you on that trail. Until then be at
peace."

And Ray, lying back upon the couch, discovered sleep waiting,
a dreamless rest in which no shadows or memories dared to
move.

At sunset he stood outside the city in company with Cho and
those tough raiders who had guided the Murian
forces into the citadel. The last of the survivors from the
town were straggling through the inland gates, forming into
family groups, then into companies, to trudge on and on,
the mounted rebels from the plains forming the guard to
keep them moving, while in the city a house-to-house search
was in progress to make sure no hiders were forgotten.
And it was dusk when the last of those searchers also came
forth. When they, too, reached the hills, beams of light shot
from the Murian ships offshore, from points inland. There
was a crash as those rays met, louder than any thunder-clap,
a shuddering of ground that knocked many of the watchers
from their feet. And a cloud of gritty dust was caught by
whirling winds, drawn up to darken the sky still more.

"The temple of Ba-Al-" Cho caught at the American's
shoulder. "Look you to the temple!"

In the rubble the sullen red-walled structure still squatted, to
their eyes intact. Again the beams closed, now aimed upon
that one building alone, but when they were gone, still it
stood.

Then from the sky itself, as , if their machines of destruction
had drawn some force of nature, came a jagged stroke of
blinding, dazzling light. There was a sound to deafen them,
and when they could see again, the temple was gone.

But in that moment Ray had a curious impression he could
neither believe nor explain, nor did he ever speak of it
afterwards. He thought he saw a black shadow, not unlike
that of a crouching human body surmounted by a bull's
head, flee into the night, drawing about it as a concealing
cloak the very substance of the normal dark.

As they turned to seek their ships, a mounted man rode up
from the slow-moving snake of the Atlantean refugees.
Uranos leaned from the saddle to speak to Ray.

"Comrade, I have not forgotten. All mine is yours; ask it of
me. Thus shall it also be with -our sons and sons' sons.
Should you call, and I shall come, even unto

have need-the ends of the earth. Now I must go with my
people. But remember, brother-"

Ray's hand went to clasp his. "No debt between us." This
he must make the other understand. "Go in peace, freely

The fingers tightened on his and then loosed, and the rider
was gone. But Cho was now beside the American.

"The ships wait-and also the motherland-"

Together they started for the shore.
18

"THIS is your landing? You are sure of the place?"

-	Ray could almost agree to the doubt expressed by

Captain Taut. There was no marker on that deserted
and empty shore, and one piece of this coast was very
like another, but Ray was sure.

-	"Right there," he repeated confidently. He turned his

head; it was hard even by so little to break that cord
which he had felt drawing him with an intensity that
grew stronger the nearer they approached the Barren
Lands.

Home to the motherland, Cho had said days earlier. But Ray had
known then that such a return could not

:-	be for him, would not be. As he had told U-Cha, there
	was only one road to take, and that lay north. And

-	Taut, sailing under new orders, to hunt down fugitive
	fragments of the Atlantean fleet scouts, had agreed to

-'	set him ashore where he wished.

- The raider captain pulled his sea cloak tighter about his thick
shoulders. There was a chill breeze, more like

_=	the breath of the winters Ray had known in the land this
would become. Now he could .see patches of white ashore,
traces of snow.

"We'll cruise to the east. Light your signal fire when you want to
be taken off-"

Ray nodded. That signal, he thought, would probably . never be
lighted. Best make Taut understand that.

"I may not return at all," he said. "I go to find my own people."

"Ask no questions, and you'll be told no fancy tales," replied the
other. "Oh, aye, every man is entitled to his own secrets. There is
no colony here, only wilds and things in them such as make for
hard meetings, one way or another. There were Atlantean ships
cruising here, and some will turn pirate now. Outlaws make their
camps back there." He waved his hand to the

shore. "Walk quietly, warrior, and keep your hand ever on sword
hilt while you do so. We'll watch for your signal."

"And if you do not see it within five days, go about your own
business and do not seek me further," repeated Ray firmly.

"Agreed. But then what do I report when I return? That I landed
you in a wilderness, that you would have no escort from among
us, and that I left you alone here? I think that I would have to
accept sword-challenge if I said that. Especially when facing the
Sun-born Cho whom you tricked when you stole away from
him to come aboard my ship, bearing those orders with you."

"Tell him to ask his questions of U-Cha, the Naacal. There are
those who know what I must do."

Ray was impatient. He almost wanted to dive over the side of
the ship and swim. But at last Taut did not appear to wish to
waste more time in argument. The captain gave orders, and Ray
was rowed ashore. He jumped from the boat to the, wave-
washed sand and turned to catch the provision bag the
steersman threw to him. But he did not wait thereafter to watch
the boat return to the ship.

Wind and wave had worked upon the sand dunes, but not too
far away were fire-smoked stones. Yes, his inner urging had led
him aright. This was the place of the Atlantean camp where he
had been a captive. Now

Ray cached the bag of supplies behind a convenient rock. That
was only an unnecessary burden and one he would probably
never see again. He began to walk on as steady a course inland as
if his feet followed a well-marked road, as sure of his route as if
that path stretched smoothly-paved before him.

In time he came to the ravine where lay the cleaned bones of the
elk. He scrambled up the rise down which they had brought him
a prisoner. Before him, against the sky, was the dark line of the
forest. There was no sun today. The sky was cold and drear, and
winter bit more deeply here.
Dark was that forest, for, in spite of the season, there had
not been a complete loss of leaves from the trees, so a dusky
canopy still hung overhead. He put aside a withered vine that
struck against the crest of his Murian helmet and paused to
pull the hem of his cloak from the thorny grasp of a bush.

Beneath the soles of his high sea boots was a moss carpet, its
green only faintly touched with brown. As he looked on
down those tree aisles, he could see only murk. This was his
recurring dream of the forest and what might walk there to
meet him. Yet this was his road, and now he had no power
to turn from it. There was no will overriding his fears and
desires as there had been in Atlantis, but he felt an
overwhelming need to go on and on, to reach the place
where he had come through time. The need had been only
an uneasiness of spirit at first, but it had grown stronger and
stronger each day, pulling at him in a way he could no longer
resist, even if he had wanted to.

The leather and denim he had worn then were gone. He had
a tunic of hide, tanned to fabric-softness, the metal-enforced
kilt of a soldier, and over his bandaged chest a corselet of
metal. A sword belt weighed about his waist, the sheath
rubbing against his thigh. By so much had he changed. He
wondered fleetingly what they would think when they saw
him, the men of his own time. His fantastic story-perhaps his
clothing would give it some credence.

Heedless of scratches, Ray broke through the last of the
underbrush that fringed the true forest and trotted on down
the aisle before him. He had fled this way in panic: Would he
be able to find again the exact spot of the breakthrough? At
least that pull on him continued, and he had come to trust it
as a kind of homing device.

He was running again, this time into the wood, not from it.
Now-now-now

"Something is coming in!" Burton pushed aside one
earphone.

They could see the alien scene on the screen, the

giant trees, the edge of the forest glade. Hargreaves glanced
around at the others gathered there. He thought-they didn't
really believe it. Until now-in spite of the film, all the other
shots-they didn't believe it. You can't-until you actually see it
for yourself.

"A reading-give me a reading!" Burton demanded sharply of
one of his three assistants.

Each repeated a series of coordinates, and Burton adjusted
dials before him, frowning.

"Dalberg-repeat!"

The man to the left reread his figures. Burton's 7 pencil dug
hard into the surface of the pad at his elbow as he scribbled.
His frown deepened. He added, crossed out with a vicious
stroke, and set down another line of figures.

"What is it?" asked General Colfax.

Burton waved an impatient demand for quiet. "Campbell-try-
" Another flood of equations was delivered to his right-hand
neighbor. Fingers flicked keys; dials were turned. Burton
hunched his shoulders, leaning farther forward until his nose
tip was not far, from that smaller viewscreen repeating the
scene on 'the larger.

Fordham spoke for the first time. "Ten minutes to go on this
hold."

Burton looked around. "That may not be enough. We have
him-or someone-on the beam. You've got to hold longer-"

"If we do, we'll have to draw from the reserve. And we may
blow any chance of another try very soon."

"But we have him, I tell you!"

"You said-'him or something."' The general spoke:` again.
"You didn't sound so sure a moment ago."

"We're doing this all on a supposition basis, on an: equation
built from inadequate data," Burton replied.' "Naturally we
must expect some variation. Well, we do have a fix on a
mind now, and it's coming in, answering , the beam. I don't
think we could pick up anything but
-	your man. We built our call around what we know of
	him-and him only."

"But you're still not sure." The general picked up a small come
from the table to give his own orders.

-	"Small, alert your men. Pick up whoever comes

through, I want him brought here on the double the
minute he shows."

Fordham consulted his own dials. "Six minutes to go on this
setting. How close is he now?" he asked of Burton.

"Less than a mile. You'll have to switch onto the extra time, I
tell you!"

Fordham's fingers drummed on the edge of the panel. Finally
he pulled a mike to him. "Let her go onto extra. Yes, I said
switch onto extra when the time is up!"

Those trees on the screen, just an innocent picture now,
Hargreaves thought. There were men stationed down there by
the Indian mound, ready to jump on what was being pulled
through, back into their time. This Ray Osborne-or someone-
or something. It was human with a human brain or Burton's
beam could not have snared it, pulled it in. But was it their man
or someone whose true world included that awesome forest?

Ray's boot toe caught in a half-rotted, earth-embedded branch.
He threw out his arms in an involuntary effort to keep his
balance and managed to remain on his feet

s	as he tottered forward into a glade. His hand slapped
against a tree trunk, and he gripped the bark. Then-the tree-it
was fading! He stumbled again and went to one knee.
Shadows whirling in and out, around and about him in a giddy
dance. There was a larger shadow looming-heaped earth-a
mound-= The Indian mound!

With an inarticulate cry Ray threw himself at that. But his hands
did not touch earth, even though he could see it. He pulled
himself up. There was the mound, but though he drove his fist
at its solid surface- What solid surface? His hand went into

- through-what his eyes assured him was frozen earth.

He backed away a step or two, his hands still up and out.
Shadows running toward him from behind the mound, less
stable than the earth he could not touch. Men-he could see
faces, uniforms, but they were misty. He watched them throw
out hands, try to hold him. One launched himself in a tackle
aimed at Ray's knees-to go sprawling along the ground, his
hands grasping the same nothingness that Ray had met in the
mound.

"No-no!" Ray heard his own wild shout. This was the end of
the nightmare, the end he had never met in sleep but had to
face waking. He-retreated again. The shadow men-one raised a
gun-fired.

"No!" Ray cried again. The forest, safety in the forest. Will it to
return, will the trees back again!

The shadow men and the mound which was and yet was not-
no!

A wild rebellion burst in him. And that cord which had pulled
him back to this insanity broke. Trees-trees- Ray closed his eyes
and thought of trees. Suddenly in his mind they stood, tall,
strong, alive again. Will it, urged that inner part of him.
Remember, you held against the Loving One; you must hold
now-or else be lost in a shadow world where you cannot exist.
Trees!

Substance against his shoulder. Not daring to open his eyes,
Ray put out his hand, and it struck the roughness of bark. He
curled his fingers tight, trying to anchor himself to that. A tree!

Salt sweat trickled down his cheeks. Trees-around him trees
and not a world of substanceless shadows!

He dared now to open his eyes. Yes, there were trees about
him. But ahead-as if he looked through an open door or
window-he saw the lift of the mound's sides, and against it
men-soldiers. They were more real than shadows now-but that
was because they were in their place and he in his, not trying to
move across a forbidden barrier. The cord that had drawn
him here was broken. Instead he looked at strangers in a
strange and forbidden world.
For a long moment they stood so. Then that window -in
what, time or space?-vanished. He was alone in the forest.
With a gasp, Ray leaned against the tree at his side.

What had happened? He had surely half returned to his own
time. The mound, the uniforms on the men, were eye-proof
of that. But he had not been able to go wholly through. See
but touch not-never again. He must accept that there was to
be no return. But for the moment the sheer relief of escape
from that half-world was all that he knew.

"What happened?" General Colfax broke the silence first.

Burton sat still, staring into the screen, his fingers gripping
the edge of the board before him, a look of complete
disbelief on his face. Fordham answered first.

"We're finished-for the present. The installations are burned
out-completely." He tapped the surface of some of the dials
before him. Their needles remained fixed and quiet.

"You saw him." Burton turned his head, looking to
Hargreaves in appeal. "You did see him?"

"A shadow-a ghost-" Hargreaves fumbled for the proper
word of description.

"He wore armor," the general supplied, "and a sword. Not
your man. Or, if he was, what has he been doing over there?
But why didn't he come through?"

"He can't," Fordham answered. "If that was Osborne and
we brought him back, he's no longer of our world. There
were plenty of theories we studied when we set up
Operation Atlantis. You know the old paradox they always
cite when one discusses time travel-that a man could go
back and alter his own family history and the result would
be that he himself would never be born at all. We weren't
attempting that type of time travel. But suppose Osborne in
some way did something important to the history on that
level-became involved in action that gave him roots there.
Then well-he might become fixed in that world."

The general got to his feet. "If you're right-then the same
thing might happen to anyone who tried to cross over?"

Fordham nodded. The general turned his small com unit
around.

"I'll make my report."

"To suspend the project," Fordham said, rather than
questioned.

"To suspend. Maybe we can look through. But I'd advise
no going through-.not until we know more much more-"

"And Osborne?" asked Burton.

"If that was Osborne, he seems to have found a place for
himself. Unless we can learn more, he'll stay-" Fordham
replied.

"I think," said Hargreaves, "that maybe he's not too badly
off-always supposing we did catch Osborne in that mind-
beam. He's been gone some weeks, lost in an unknown
world. When he returns, or half returns, he's wearing armor,
carrying a weapon. Apparently he's made a good contact
with whoever inhabits that level and found so much of a
place among them that he has been provided with clothing
and arms. Also-if Dr. Fordham is right-perhaps he has
accomplished something important over there. I wonder"-
he looked at the blank screen-"I wonder what it was."

"Well"-Burton arose slowly-"we'll probably never know.
He's somewhere we can't reach-in safety."

"Not somewhere"-Fordham shook his head-"but
some when, an uncharted somewhen."

The com in General Colfax's hand crackled. He raised it to
his ear. "Colfax here, come in." He listened for a moment
and then turned to face the others. There was shocked
amazement in his face.

"Report from the Pentagon. A new landmass in the Atlantic,
another in the Pacific-not rising from the sea bottom just
suddenly there! Right there, as if they had always been-"

"Atlantis-" Fordham half whispered. "But howwhy-?"
	"Ask your computers for a new equation. We plant a
man over there by mistake-and we get two continents
in exchange. It seems we may have a somewhen on this
side, too. Only it's in the here and now, and we have to
deal with it. Those lands-if they have people-if they
are open-they'll have to be dealt with."
	"Up for grabs, unless they've arrived complete with
inhabitants,'' commented Hargreaves. "Perhaps we had
better begin wondering about that. Maybe Osborne-
will have the best of two possible worlds from now on."

	Tall trees, but nothing alarming about them now in
spite of the gloom beneath their sky-piercing branches.
Ray moved easily. He only hoped that he could find his
way back to the shore now that the guide that had
brought him no longer operated. The sense of security
that had come with the return of the trees still held. It
was as if his escape from the shadowy half world was
an escape from a danger threatening more than his
body.
	There was no going back. He accepted that now.
What U-Cha had warned must be the truth. His ac-
tions here had set a barrier between him and the past.
Now that he knew that and accepted it, the reality he
had lost in the Five Walled City enclosed him again.
This was the here and now and was all he had-or
needed. After all, his own time had no more to offer-
rather less than he had found here.
	He was out of the forest, and now he fell into a jog
trot. How long had he been ashore? It was still far from
evening. Perhaps the raider still hung close enough to
see his signal soon.
	Now Ray was running, as he had once run from the
same wood before. What had the Re Mu promised-
whatever he asked for? Now, now he was beginning to
know what he did want--a- stake in this land. There
might be those willing to settle here. But it was his
own land, his last link with the past--though he must
not hold to it for that reason. The Barren Lands-that
name was all wrong. They were not barren-look at

that forest, this plain! Good land just waiting for
man.
	Overhead, the clouds parted, letting through the
brightness of the sun. The dried grasses of the plains
turned golden under his feet. Barren? No! Someday
there would be cities here, people-
	Ray was breathing hard. He slowed to a walk as he
came at last to the seashore. But in spite of the pain
beneath his ribs, the weariness settling on him, he
began to comb the rocks for driftwood. A big pile,
enough to make a pillar of smoke once some brush was
added to it. Taut's lookout ought to catch sight of it
soon.
	He squatted on his heels to touch the fire stick from
his belt pouch to that fire. He blew it into vigorous life.
	Barren Lands-real lands- He thought of that win-
dow and the shadows moving beyond it. This was the
here and now. What was that? Somewhere-no, some-
when. And it had no life for him any more. He threw on
some more brush and watched the dark smoke spiral
up under the sun, a warm and now comforting sun.