“And Atlantis lies to the east,” Ray stated rather than questioned.
“True. Is this so different from the lands of your own time that you find it fearful to look upon? Why should that be so?” “Because”-Ray hunted for words-“because it is hard to believe that a man may walk about his ordinary business in a land he knows well one moment and the next be elsewhere, where all is different. All that shows as sea here”-it was his turn to approach the map-“is land for me. And it is densely populated with many growing cities-too many. Men are finding that expanding population a threat. And here, this is also land-” He set his palm over the sea of Brazil. “But there is no Atlantis, no Mu-only ocean and scattered islands-
“
He heard a small gasp from Cho. “How long, how very great a time must separate our worlds, brother! Such changes on the face of a planet do not come easily. You have spoken of Atlantis as a tale in your world. Do they then have an ending for it? Or do they speak of Mu, the motherland?”
“There are stories of Atlantis, supposed to be tales only, with no fact. It is said to have vanished beneath the seas in tidal waves and earthquakes because of the wickedness of its people. This ocean in my own time is named the Atlantic because of the persistence of an old belief that Atlantis lies somewhere beneath it. Of Mu. I never heard.”
“What did you do in this northern land of yours, brother? Were you a warrior? When you brought down the Atlantean, you used a strange blow such as I have not seen before.”
“For a while I was a warrior. Then there was family trouble, and I was needed at home-”
“Needed at home-But now-when you cannot go home-?”
Ray shook his head. “That need is past.” He did not want to think about that. “I was about to return to the army when this happened to me. New buildings were being put up on a government project.” He did not know how much of this Cho would understand but felt a need to put it all into words. “When they started to clear the land, there was trouble because of an old Indian mound. People protested against its being leveled before it
could be properly investigated. Les Wilson-a man I know-was trying to get them to wait. He was writing articles about it, and he wanted some good photo shots of the mound. I promised to take them. And I was doing just that when-when I found myself in a forest of the biggest trees I’d ever seen. That’s the whole story. And I still don’t know what happened or why.”
Cho looked puzzled. “Shots of an Indian mound,” he repeated slowly, as if completely bewildered.
“A machine-a camera of our time” Ray explained. “You use it to take pictures of objects, a very popular way of keeping visual records. And the Indians-they were native of this north continent whom my people found in possession of the country when they came from the east to colonize it about four centuries ago, four hundred years. Some of the early tribes, who had already vanished before the first settlers of my blood arrived, had built great mounds of earth that still remain, and we study them, trying to learn more about the people who made them.”
If the world is so much older in your time,” commented Cho slowly, “there must be the remains of many, many vanished peoples from which you can learn.”
“Yes, in many places there are ruins and old tombs of long-forgotten races. Some races we know of only by a few scattered stones, which say that man once built something there. That and no more-”
“You have a liking for this pursuit of those gone before?”
Ray shrugged. “I’m no archaeologist, but there is a kind of treasure-hunt lure to such searching. And I have read much about it. I had a lot of time for reading a while back.” Once more he pushed away the sharpness of memory.
“Brother, I might try to say many words to you”-the Murian regarded him soberly-“but words cannot banish thoughts, no mater how well they are intended. You fight now upon a field where no sword brother, however well meaning, can stand at your right hand or al your left, for the battle is yours alone. But to each day its own evils. Forget this for a space if you can”-he spread out his hand upon the map-“and let us sleep.”
Ray followed him behind one of the curtains to a small side cabin, where there were two bunks. Cho was already stripping off the remaining rags of his water soaked tunic.
” `Rest while one can’ might well be the slogan of all during these troubled days. What man can say what a new morning will bring?”
Reluctantly Ray crawled into a warm nest of soft covers. His eyes closed, but there was no rest for his thoughts.
“Well, what do you have?” Hargreaves slumped in the chair. A dark sprouting of beard accentuated the shadows under his eyes, and he blinked slowly, as if the effort to keep them open and focused properly was almost beyond him.
“We know the man now. He’s Ray Osborne. Wilson put him up to coming out to take some pictures of the mound. He’s an acquaintance of Wilson’s, does part-time photography for the local newspaper.”
“Newspaper!” Hargreaves burst out hoarsely. “Just our luck to have a newspaper mixed up in this. We need that about as much as an N-bomb!” He fumbled with a cigarette pack and threw it from him savagely when he discovered it empty. “I suppose Osborne’s disappearance is already burning up the wire services east and west.”
“Not yet. We have that one small piece of luck, or edge. Osborne wouldn’t have turned in his shots until this morning. I notified Wilson that we’ve confiscated them and Osborne is under arrest for trespassing,” Fordham returned.
“In the name of Judas, why? That’ll bring-the whole pack down on us, yapping about freedom of the press and all the rest they cry about!”
The director shook his head. “No. They’ve all accepted the idea that this installation is top secret. Our
-story is that Wilson sent Osborne in, knowing it was closed territory-that he tried to pry. That buys us time, as Wilson has been warned about breaking security before. Luckily Osborne was a loner-”
“How much of a loner? Let Wilson get his family stirred up properly, and some lawyer will be out here in an hour, baying at the gates.”
“This much of a loner.” Fordham picked up a slip of paper from the desk and began to read:
“Ray Osborne, son of Langley and Janet Osborne, old . family here in the valley, but no relatives now closer l than second cousins. Born in 1960, which makes him around twenty now. Had one year of college, then drafted. Served overseas six months. Specialist in unarmed combat and scouting, interested in photography. Ten months ago his parents were in a traffic crack-up, his father killed, his mother badly injured. The Red Cross got him a hardship discharge, as there was no one else to take care of her. He came back .here, took a part-time job, and looked after his mother who.. was an invalid. A month ago she-died. He told the . editor at the paper that he intended to go back into the service. He has no close friends; his army service and the circumstances of his mother’s illness broke off most of his past relationships. Was a-quiet sort of chap, did a lot of reading, hiked about the country taking pictures.: Sold some of those. No trouble, well accepted, but’ nothing strong for or against him in town.”
Hargreaves sat up a little straighter. “Well, if we had to send a man out wherever this one went, we’re in luck that it was Osborne. No family, no friends, to make trouble. I wonder
. He stared at a wall it was obvious he did not see.
“Yes?” prompted Fordham after a long pause.
“You say he told people he planned to re-enter the service. I think it can be set up that he did. So now, let. the papers go through and he’s our man; then we can hold the whole story under wraps while we move in to get him. Because the brains really want him-ands badly. With what he’ll have to tell us, he’s worth more, than twelve space platforms and one moon station. We’ve got to get him back and pump him, pump him down to the last breath of air he took out of wherever he is!” “If we can-” “We have to; that’s orders. Don’t worry. They’ll send you every man, every bit of material you need to put it through. We have to get him back. Do you realize that we’re on the trail now in a direction the Eastern powers have never prospected? This is ours alone!” “And if he’s dead?” “Then we have to get his body anyway-” “We can probably get the beam on again soon. But that merely opens a very limited area. What if he’s traveled miles away? There’ll be no way of tracing him-” Hargreaves loosened his tie a little more so it lay in a stringy loop on his rumpled shirt. “They’re working on that now in another way. You get the door open, and maybe they’ll have figured out how to find our man by that time. But Lady Luck had better ride with us on this one!”