Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction; Science fiction; Tibet Autonomous Region (China) -- Fiction
Through the murk stabbed a long lance of pale blue phosphorescence.
It unrolled like a ribbon of wan flame, flicked like a serpent's
tongue--held steady. I felt the Thing beneath us leap forward; its
velocity grew prodigious; the wind beat upon us with hurricane force.
I shielded my eyes with my hands and peered through the chinks of my
fingers. Ranged directly in our path was a barricade of the cubes and
upon them we were racing like a flying battering-ram. Involuntarily I
closed my eyes against the annihilating impact that seemed inevitable.
The Thing on which we rode lifted.
We were soaring at a long angle straight to the top of the barrier; were
upon it, and still with that awful speed unchecked were hurtling through
the blackness over the shaft of phosphorescence, the ribbon of pale
light that I had watched pierce it and knew now was but another span of
the cubes that but a little before had fled past us. Beneath the span,
on each side of it, I sensed illimitable void.
We were over; rushing along in darkness. There began a mighty tumult,
a vast crashing and roaring. The clangor waxed, beat about us with
tremendous strokes of sound.
Far away was a dim glowing, as of rising sun through heavy mists of
dawn. The mists faded--miles away gleamed what at first glimpse seemed
indeed to be the rising sun; a gigantic orb, whose lower limb just
touched, was sharply, horizontally cut by the blackness, as though at
its base that blackness was frozen.
The sun? Reason returned to me; told me this globe could not be that.
What was it then? Ra-Harmachis, of the Egyptians, stripped of his wings,
exiled and growing old in the corridors of the Dead? Or that mocking
luminary, the cold phantom of the God of light and warmth which the old
Norsemen believed was set in their frozen hell to torment the damned?
I thrust aside the fantasies, impatiently. But sun or no sun, light
streamed from this orb, light in multicolored, lanced rays, banishing
the blackness through which we had been flying.
Closer we came and closer; lighter it grew about us, and by the growing
light I saw that still beside us ran the abyss. And even louder, more
thunderous, became the clamor.
At the foot of the radiant disk I glimpsed a luminous pool. Into it, out
of the depths, protruded a tremendous rectangular tongue, gleaming like
gray steel.
On the tongue an inky shape appeared; it lifted itself from the abyss,
rushed upon the disk and took form.
Like a gigantic spider it was, squat and horned. For an instant it was
silhouetted against the smiling sphere, poised itself--and vanished
through it.
Now, not far ahead, silhouetted as had been the spider shape, blackened
into sight a cube and on it Ruth and Norhala. It seemed to hover, to
wait.
“It's a door,” Drake's shout beat thinly in my ears against the
hurricane of sound.
What I thought had been an orb was indeed a gateway, a portal; and it
was gigantic.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account