Fantasy fiction; Science fiction; Utopias -- Fiction
Here I was at last, passed into the Forbidden City with the greatest
ease.
"We will walk slowly towards tower number three, which is the one we
shall ascend," said my companion, "and I will explain the situation to
you. On the tower top I have supreme authority, except for one man, and
that's the Irish-American, Boss Mulligan. This worthy is much addicted
to the use of hot and rebellious liquors, and is generally more or less
intoxicated about this time, though he is more alert and ferocious than
when sober. To-night I have taken the opportunity to put a little
something in his bottle, a little something from China, which will not
be detected, and which will by now have sent him into a profound,
drugged slumber. I then telephoned all down the tower to the lift men on
the various stages, and also to Kwang there, that a doctor was to be
expected and that I would come down to meet him and conduct him to Mr.
Morse."
"Excellent!" I said, "and now--?"
"Now we are going straight up to the very top. Every one will see us but
no one will think anything strange. Moreover, and this is a fact in our
favor, when Mulligan awakes no one will be able to tell him of the
incident even if they suspected anything, for few, if any, of the tower
men speak more than a few rudimentary words of English, and I am the
intermediary between them and their master. This was specially arranged
by Mr. Morse so that none of them could get into communication with
Europeans. The fact is greatly in our favor."
I pressed my hand to a pocket over my heart, where lay a little note
which had been mysteriously conveyed to me early in the evening--a
little agitated note bidding me come at all costs--and passed on in
silence until we came under the gloomy shadows of the mighty girders
and columns which sprang up from an expanse of smooth concrete which
seemed to stretch as far as eye could reach.
We changed our lift at each stage; and I could have wished that it was
day or the night was finer, for the experience is wonderful when one
undergoes it for the first time.
"We shall ascend by one of the small rapid lifts built for four or five
persons only, and not the large and more cumbrous machines. Even so, you
must remember, Doctor"--he chuckled as he called me that--"we have
nearly half a mile to go."
On and on we went, amid this lifeless forest of steel with its smooth
concrete and shining electric-lamps, until at last we approached a
small, illuminated pavilion, where two silent celestials awaited us. We
stepped into the lift, the door was closed, a bell rang and we began to
move upwards. I sat down on a plush-covered seat and didn't attempt to
look out of the frosted windows on either side until at length, after
what seemed an interminable time, we stopped with a little jerk. Pu-Yi
opened the door and led me down on to a platform.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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