When the World Shook: Being an Account of the Great Adventure of Bastin, Bickley and ArbuthnotHaggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Science
When the World Shook: Being an Account of the Great Adventure of Bastin, Bickley and Arbuthnot
Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Adventure stories; Science fiction
“They did not choose; it was forced upon them,” was the answer. “This
is a city of refuge that they occupied in time of war, not because they
hated the sun. In time of peace and before the Barbarians dared to
attack them, they dwelt in the city Pani which signifies Above. You may
have noted some of its remaining ruins on the mount and throughout the
island. The rest of them are now beneath the sea. But when trouble came
and the foe rained fire on them from the air, they retreated to this
town, Nyo, which signifies Beneath.”
“And then?”
“And then they died. The Water of Life may prolong life, but it cannot
make women bear children. That they will only do beneath the blue of
heaven, not deep in the belly of the world where Nature never designed
that they should dwell. How would the voices of children sound in such
halls as these? Tell me, you, Bickley, who are a physician.”
“I cannot. I cannot imagine children in such a place, and if born here
they would die,” said Bickley.
Oro nodded.
“They did die, and if they went above to Pani they were murdered. So
soon the habit of birth was lost and the Sons of Wisdom perished one by
one. Yes, they who ruled the world and by tens of thousands of years of
toil had gathered into their bosoms all the secrets of the world,
perished, till only a few, and among them I and this daughter of mine,
were left.”
“And then?”
“Then, Humphrey, having power so to do, I did what long I had
threatened, and unchained the forces that work at the world’s heart,
and destroyed them who were my enemies and evil, so that they perished
by millions, and with them all their works. Afterwards we slept,
leaving the others, our subjects who had not the secret of this Sleep,
to die, as doubtless they did in the course of Nature or by the hand of
the foe. The rest you know.”
“Can such a thing happen again?” asked Bickley in a voice that did not
hide his disbelief.
“Why do you question me, Bickley, you who believe nothing of what I
tell you, and therefore make wrath? Still I will say this, that what I
caused to happen I can cause once more—only once, I think—as perchance
you shall learn before all is done. Now, since you do not believe, I
will tell you no more of our mysteries, no, not whence this light comes
nor what are the properties of the Water of Life, both of which you
long to know, nor how to preserve the vital spark of Being in the grave
of dreamless sleep, like a live jewel in a casket of dead stone, nor
aught else. As to these matters, Daughter, I bid you also to be silent,
since Bickley mocks at us. Yes, with all this around him, he who saw us
rise from the coffins, still mocks at us in his heart. Therefore let
him, this little man of a little day, when his few years are done go to
the tomb in ignorance, and his companions with him, they who might have
been as wise as I am.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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