XV THE GIDDY BRIDGE
Just for a moment that hostile pause endured. I suppose that both weand the Selenites did some very rapid thinking. My clearest impressionwas that there was nothing to put my back against, and that we werebound to be surrounded and killed. The overwhelming folly of ourpresence there loomed over me in black, enormous reproach. Why had Iever launched myself on this mad, inhuman expedition?
Cavor came to my side and laid his hand on my arm. His pale andterrified face was ghastly in the blue light.
“We can’t do anything,” he said. “It’s a mistake. They don’tunderstand. We must go. As they want us to go.”
I looked down at him, and then at the fresh Selenites who were comingto help their fellows. “If I had my hands free----”
“It’s no use,” he panted.
“No.”
“We’ll go.”
And he turned about and led the way in the direction that had beenindicated for us.
I followed, trying to look as subdued as possible, and feeling at thechains about my wrists. My blood was boiling. I noted nothing moreof that cavern, though it seemed to take a long time before we hadmarched across it, or if I noted anything I forgot it as I saw it. Mythoughts were concentrated, I think, upon my chains and the Selenites,and particularly upon the helmeted ones with the goads. At first theymarched parallel with us, and at a respectful distance, but presentlythey were overtaken by three others, and then they drew nearer, untilthey were within arm’s length again. I winced like a beaten horse asthey came near to us. The shorter, thicker Selenite marched at first onour right flank, but presently came in front of us again.
How well the picture of that grouping has bitten into my brain; theback of Cavor’s downcast head just in front of me, and the dejecteddroop of his shoulders, and our guide’s gaping visage, perpetuallyjerking about him, and the goad-bearers on either side, watchful, yetopen-mouthed--a blue monochrome. And, after all, I _do_ remember oneother thing besides the purely personal affair, which is, that a sortof gutter came presently across the floor of the cavern, and then ranalong by the side of the path of rock we followed. And it was fullof that same bright blue luminous stuff that flowed out of the greatmachine. I walked close beside it, and I can testify it radiated nota particle of heat. It was brightly shining, and yet it was neitherwarmer nor colder than anything else in the cavern.
Clang, clang, clang, we passed right under the thumping levers ofanother vast machine, and so came at last to a wide tunnel, in whichwe could even hear the pad, pad of our shoeless feet, and which, savefor the trickling thread of blue to the right of us, was quite unlit.The shadows made gigantic travesties of our shapes and those of theSelenites on the irregular wall and roof of the tunnel. Ever and againcrystals in the walls of the tunnel scintillated like gems, ever andagain the tunnel expanded into a stalactitic cavern, or gave offbranches that vanished into darkness.
We seemed to be marching down that tunnel for a long time. “Trickle,trickle,” went the flowing light very softly, and our footfalls andtheir echoes made an irregular paddle, paddle. My mind settled downto the question of my chains. If I were to slip off one turn _so_, andthen to twist it _so_....
If I tried to do it very gradually, would they see I was slipping mywrist out of the looser turn? If they did, what would they do?
“Bedford,” said Cavor, “it goes down. It keeps on going down.”
His remark roused me from my sullen preoccupation.
“If they wanted to kill us,” he said, dropping back to come level withme, “there is no reason why they should not have done it.”
“No,” I admitted, “that’s true.”
“They don’t understand us,” he said, “they think we are merely strangeanimals, some wild sort of mooncalf birth, perhaps. It will be onlywhen they have observed us better that they will begin to think we haveminds----”
“When you trace those geometrical problems,” said I.
“It may be that.”
We tramped on for a space.
“You see,” said Cavor, “these may be Selenites of a lower class.”
“The infernal fools!” said I viciously, glancing at their exasperatingfaces.
“If we endure what they do to us----”
“We’ve got to endure it,” said I.
“There may be others less stupid. This is the mere outer fringe oftheir world. It must go down and down, cavern, passage, tunnel, down atlast to the sea--hundreds of miles below.”
His words made me think of the mile or so of rock and tunnel thatmight be over our heads already. It was like a weight dropping on myshoulders. “Away from the sun and air,” I said. “Even a mine half amile deep is stuffy.”
“This is not, anyhow. It’s probable--Ventilation! The air would blowfrom the dark side of the moon to the sunlit, and all the carbonicacid would well out there and feed those plants. Up this tunnel, forexample, there is quite a breeze. And what a world it must be. Theearnest we have in that shaft, and those machines----”
“And the goad,” I said. “Don’t forget the goad!”
He walked a little in front of me for a time.
“Even that goad--” he said.
“Well?”
“I was angry at the time. But--It was perhaps necessary we should geton. They have different skins, and probably different nerves. They maynot understand our objection--Just as a being from Mars might not likeour earthly habit of nudging----”
“They’d better be careful how they nudge _me_.”
“And about that geometry. After all, their way is a way ofunderstanding, too. They begin with the elements of life and not ofthought. Food. Compulsion. Pain. They strike at fundamentals.”
“There’s no doubt about _that_,” I said.
He went on to talk of the enormous and wonderful world into which wewere being taken. I realised slowly from his tone, that even now he wasnot absolutely in despair at the prospect of going ever deeper intothis inhuman planet-burrow. His mind ran on machines and invention, tothe exclusion of a thousand dark things that beset me. It wasn’t thathe intended to make any use of these things, he simply wanted to knowthem.
“After all,” he said, “this is a tremendous occasion. It is the meetingof two worlds! What are we going to see? Think of what is below ushere.”
“We shan’t see much if the light isn’t better,” I remarked.
“This is only the outer crust. Down below--On this scale--There willbe everything. Do you notice how different they seem one from another?The story we shall take back!”
“Some rare sort of animal,” I said, “might comfort himself in that waywhile they were bringing him to the Zoo.... It doesn’t follow that weare going to be shown all these things.”
“When they find we have reasonable minds,” said Cavor, “they will wantto learn about the earth. Even if they have no generous emotions, theywill teach in order to learn.... And the things they must know! Theunanticipated things!”
He went on to speculate on the possibility of their knowing things hehad never hoped to learn on earth, speculating in that way, with a rawwound from that goad already in his skin! Much that he said I forget,for my attention was drawn to the fact that the tunnel along which wehad been marching was opening out wider and wider. We seemed, from thefeeling of the air, to be going out into a huge space. But how bigthe space might really be we could not tell, because it was unlit.Our little stream of light ran in a dwindling thread and vanished farahead. Presently the rocky walls had vanished altogether on eitherhand. There was nothing to be seen but the path in front of us and thetrickling, hurrying rivulet of blue phosphorescence. The figures ofCavor and the guiding Selenite marched before me, the sides of theirlegs and heads that were towards the rivulet were clear and brightblue, their darkened sides, now that the reflection of the tunnel wallno longer lit them, merged indistinguishably in the darkness beyond.
And soon I perceived that we were approaching a declivity of some sort,because the little blue stream d
ipped suddenly out of sight.
In another moment, as it seemed, we had reached the edge. The shiningstream gave one meander of hesitation and then rushed over. It fellto a depth at which the sound of its descent was absolutely lost tous. Far below was a bluish glow, a sort of blue mist--at an infinitedistance below. And the darkness the stream dropped out of becameutterly void and black, save that a thing like a plank projectedfrom the edge of the cliff and stretched out and faded and vanishedaltogether. There was a warm air blowing up out of the gulf.
For a moment I and Cavor stood as near the edge as we dared, peeringinto a blue-tinged profundity. And then our guide was pulling at myarm.
Then he left me, and walked to the end of that plank and stepped uponit, looking back. Then when he perceived we watched him, he turnedabout and went on along it, walking as surely as though he was on firmearth. For a moment his form was distinct, then he became a blue blur,and then vanished into the obscurity. I became aware of some vagueshape looming darkly out of the black.
There was a pause. “Surely--!” said Cavor.
One of the other Selenites walked a few paces out upon the plank, andturned and looked back at us unconcernedly. The others stood readyto follow after us. Our guide’s expectant figure reappeared. He wasreturning to see why we had not advanced.
“What is that beyond there?” I asked.
“I can’t see.”
“We can’t cross this at any price,” said I.
“I could not go three steps on it,” said Cavor, “even with my handsfree.”
We looked at each other’s drawn faces in blank consternation.
“They can’t know what it is to be giddy!” said Cavor.
“It’s quite impossible for us to walk that plank.”
“I don’t believe they see as we do. I’ve been watching them. I wonderif they know this is simply blackness for us. How can we make themunderstand?”
“Anyhow, we must make them understand.”
I think we said these things with a vague half hope the Selenitesmight somehow understand. I knew quite clearly that all that wasneeded was an explanation. Then as I saw their faces, I realised thatan explanation was impossible. Just here it was that our resemblanceswere not going to bridge our differences. Well, I wasn’t going to walkthe plank, anyhow. I slipped my wrist very quickly out of the coil ofchain that was loose, and then began to twist my wrists in oppositedirections. I was standing nearest to the bridge, and as I did this twoof the Selenites laid hold of me, and pulled me gently towards it.
I shook my head violently. “No go,” I said, “no use. You don’tunderstand.”
Another Selenite added his compulsion. I was forced to step forward.
“I’ve got an idea,” said Cavor; but I knew his ideas.
“Look here!” I exclaimed to the Selenites. “Steady on! It’s all verywell for you----”
I sprang round upon my heel. I burst out into curses. For one of thearmed Selenites had stabbed me behind with his goad.
I wrenched my wrists free from the little tentacles that held them. Iturned on the goad-bearer. “Confound you!” I cried. “I’ve warned you ofthat. What on earth do you think I’m made of, to stick that into me? Ifyou touch me again----!”
By way of answer he pricked me forthwith.
I heard Cavor’s voice in alarm and entreaty. Even then I think hewanted to compromise with these creatures. “I say, Bedford,” he cried,“I know a way!” But the sting of that second stab seemed to set freesome pent-up reserve of energy in my being. Instantly the link of thewrist-chain snapped, and with it snapped all considerations that hadheld us unresisting in the hands of these moon creatures. For thatsecond, at least, I was mad with fear and anger. I took no thought ofconsequences. I hit straight out at the face of the thing with thegoad. The chain was twisted round my fist....
There came another of these beastly surprises of which the moon worldis full.
My mailed hand seemed to go clean through him. He smashed like--likesome softish sort of sweet with liquid in it! He broke right in! Hesquelched and splashed. It was like hitting a damp toadstool. Theflimsy body went spinning a dozen yards, and fell with a flabby impact.I was astonished. I was incredulous that any living thing could be soflimsy. For an instant I could have believed the whole thing a dream.
Then it had become real and imminent again. Neither Cavor nor the otherSelenites seemed to have done anything from the time when I had turnedabout to the time when the dead Selenite hit the ground. Every onestood back from us two, every one alert. That arrest seemed to last atleast a second after the Selenite was down. Every one must have beentaking the thing in. I seem to remember myself standing with my armhalf retracted, trying also to take it in. “What next?” clamoured mybrain; “what next?” Then in a moment every one was moving!
I perceived we must get our chains loose, and that before we could dothis these Selenites had to be beaten off. I faced towards the group ofthe three goad-bearers. Instantly one threw his goad at me. It swishedover my head, and I suppose went flying into the abyss behind.
I leaped right at him with all my might as the goad flew over me. Heturned to run as I jumped, and I bore him to the ground, came downright upon him, and slipped upon his smashed body and fell. He seemedto wriggle under my foot.
I came into a sitting position, and on every hand the blue backs ofthe Selenites were receding into the darkness. I bent a link by mainforce and untwisted the chain that had hampered me about the ankles,and sprang to my feet, with the chain in my hand. Another goad, flungjavelin-wise, whistled by me, and I made a rush towards the darknessout of which it had come. Then I turned back towards Cavor, who wasstill standing in the light of the rivulet near the gulf convulsivelybusy with his wrists, and at the same time jabbering nonsense about hisidea.
“Come on!” I cried.
“My hands!” he answered.
Then, realising that I dared not run back to him, because myill-calculated steps might carry me over the edge, he came shufflingtowards me, with his hands held out before him.
I gripped his chains at once to unfasten them.
“Where are they?” he panted.
“Run away. They’ll come back. They’re throwing things! Which way shallwe go?”
“By the light. To that tunnel. Eh?”
“Yes,” said I, and his hands were free.
I dropped on my knees and fell to work on his ankle bonds. Whack camesomething--I know not what--and splashed the livid streamlet into dropsabout us. Far away on our right a piping and whistling began.
I whipped the chain off his feet, and put it in his hand. “Hit withthat!” I said, and without waiting for an answer, set off in big boundsalong the path by which we had come. I had a nasty sort of feeling thatthese things could jump out of the darkness on to my back. I heard theimpact of his leaps come following after me.
We ran in vast strides. But that running, you must understand, was analtogether different thing from any running on earth. On earth oneleaps and almost instantly hits the ground again, but on the moon,because of its weaker pull, one shot through the air for severalseconds before one came to earth. In spite of our violent hurry thisgave an effect of long pauses, pauses in which one might have countedseven or eight. “Step,” and one soared off! All sorts of questions ranthrough my mind: “Where are the Selenites? What will they do? Shall weever get to that tunnel? Is Cavor far behind? Are they likely to cuthim off?” Then whack, stride, and off again for another step.
I saw a Selenite running in front of me, his legs going exactly as aman’s would go on earth, saw him glance over his shoulder, and heardhim shriek as he ran aside out of my way into the darkness. He was,I think, our guide, but I am not sure. Then in another vast stridethe walls of rock had come into view on either hand, and in two morestrides I was in the tunnel, and tempering my pace to its low roof. Iwent on to a bend, then stopped and turned back, and plug, plug, plug,Cavor came into view, splashing into the stream of blue light at everystride, and grew
larger and blundered into me. We stood clutching eachother. For a moment, at least, we had shaken off our captors and werealone.
We were both very much out of breath. We spoke in panting, brokensentences.
“You’ve spoilt it all!” panted Cavor.
“Nonsense,” I cried. “It was that or death!”
“What are we to do?”
“Hide.”
“How can we?”
“It’s dark enough.”
“But where?”
“Up one of these side caverns.”
“And then?”
“Think.”
“Right--come on.”
We strode on, and presently came to a radiating dark cavern. Cavor wasin front. He hesitated, and chose a black mouth that seemed to promisegood hiding. He went towards it and turned.
“It’s dark,” he said.
“Your legs and feet will light us. You’re wet with that luminous stuff.”
“But----”
A tumult of sounds, and in particular a sound like a clanging gong,advancing up the main tunnel, became audible. It was horriblysuggestive of a tumultuous pursuit. We made a bolt for the unlit sidecavern forthwith. As we ran along it our way was lit by the irradiationof Cavor’s legs. “It’s lucky,” I panted, “they took off our boots, orwe should fill this place with clatter.” On we rushed, taking as smallsteps as we could to avoid striking the roof of the cavern. After atime we seemed to be gaining on the uproar. It became muffled, itdwindled, it died away.
I stopped and looked back, and I heard the pad, pad of Cavor’s feetreceding. Then he stopped also. “Bedford,” he whispered; “there’s asort of light in front of us.”
“Bedford,” he whispered, “there’s a sort of light infront of us”]
I looked, and at first could see nothing. Then I perceived his head andshoulders dimly outlined against a fainter darkness. I saw, also, thatthis mitigation of the darkness was not blue, as all the other lightwithin the moon had been, but a pallid grey, a very vague, faint white,the daylight colour. Cavor noted this difference as soon or sooner thanI did, and I think, too, that it filled him with much the same wildhope.
“Bedford,” he whispered, and his voice trembled. “That light--it ispossible----”
He did not dare to say the thing he hoped. Then came a pause. SuddenlyI knew by the sound of his feet that he was striding towards thatpallor. I followed him with a beating heart.