Fantasy fiction; Science fiction; Utopias -- Fiction
"I've promised to meet Mr. Pu-Yi in the office of the chief of the
staff. Reports will be coming in of the search which has been going on
all the evening. I am anxious to see how far it has got, though of
course if Midwinter had been found, or any trace of him, we should have
been informed at once. And there is something else, also--"
He stopped, and I made no inquiries. "Well, I'm with you," I said; for I
felt ready for anything that might come, in a state of absolute,
pleasant acquiescence in the present and the future. I hadn't a tremor
of fear or anxiety.
One of those noiseless, toy, electric automobiles which I had already
seen when Juanita first showed me the City, was waiting. We got in, and
buzzed through the gardens, and down the tunnel which led to Grand
Square. As we went, I saw shadowy figures patrolling everywhere. The
whole place was alive with guards--my girl could sleep well this night!
As we came out of the tunnel I motioned to Bill to go slowly, and he
pulled the lever, or whatever it was, that controlled the speed. In
almost complete silence we began to circle the huge inclosure, the tires
making no noise whatever upon the floor of wood blocks.
The air was keen, cold, and wonderfully pure. There was not a cloud in
the heavens, and one looked up at a far-flung vault of black velvet
spangled with gold. Never had I seen the stars so clear and brilliant in
England, for the haze of smoke and the miasma of overbreathed air which
is the natural atmosphere of London lay two thousand feet below. The
Grand Square blazed with light. The buildings, with their spires, domes
and cupolas, stood out with extraordinary clearness against the
circumambient black of space. No outline was soft or blurred, everything
was vividly, fantastically real. A veritable scene from the old Arabian
Nights indeed! And something of the same thought must have come to my
companion, for he looked up and said: "I once saw an extraordinary
illustration by Willy Pogany of one of De Quincey's opium dreams--here
it is, only a thousand times more marvelous!"
The fountain in the middle of the Square--a long distance away it
seemed as we slowly skirted the buildings--made a ghostly laughter as it
sprang from its dragon-supported basin of bronze. The gilded cupola of
the observatory shone with a wan radiance, higher than all else, and a
black triangle in the gold told me that the patient old Chinese
astronomer surveyed the heavens, lost in a waking dream of the Infinite,
probably loftily unconscious of all that had been going on in the magic
city at his feet. I envied that serene, Oriental philosopher, Juanita's
special friend and pet, who lived up there in his observatory, and, so I
was told, hardly ever descended for any purpose at all. He was as
inviolate a hermit as Saint Anthony. It was especially curious that I
should have cast my glance heavenwards and have thought of that ancient
sage at this moment. You will learn why afterwards.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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