The Shadow People. John Russell Fearn

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in a truly tremendous building.

      After that the transition from smallness to normality—if such it could be called—in a world gigantic beyond imagination was rapid. Suddenly the quartet within the space machine realized that everything had become still and that their vessel was standing in the center of an enormously long street, flanked on either side by buildings with a multiplicity of windows. It was night here, and out of the darkness an occasional figure walked, paused to stare in wonder, and then continued onwards.

      “Apparently,” Abna said finally, peering outside, “we’ve landed! It seems to be a main street of some sort. I assume the enlargement was done for us, but by what sort of apparatus has me guessing.”

      “Must be some kind of long-distance vibration for increasing the electronic orbits of ourselves and the ship,” the Amazon commented.

      None of the others attempted to question the rightness or wrongness of her theory: they were too busy gazing outside. As Abna had said, they had materialized in some kind of main street in a gigantic metropolis. The city sprawled for untold miles into the distance, ablaze with light and activity. Perhaps, though, this street was not a very important one, for vehicular traffic seemed to be nonexistent, and pedestrians were few and far between. The most interesting thing about the passers-by was the fact that they were comparatively normal when considered from Earth standards. In no sense did they have any leanings toward the grotesque.

      “Well,” the Amazon said at length, inspecting the weapon belt about her slim waist. “Do we venture outside, or wait for something to happen?”

      “Since we are obviously under observation,” Abna responded, “it seems it would only be common courtesy to wait for our friends to finish the job they’ve started. Besides, it will save a lot of time trying to explore. Something will happen soon.”

      The Amazon nodded agreement, gazing into the long vista of buildings. Her tremendously imaginative mind was finding it impossible to realize that here was a world so big as to be beyond belief—that she herself, Abna, Viona, and Mexone were really now so gargantuan that a million million earthly universes would fit inside their little fingers, and still leave infinite room.… Such a conception was impossible of realization, even though it was the mathematical fact. This was the macrocosm, never before penetrated.

      “Looks as if somebody is coming,” Mexone said presently. “See them—over to the right?”

      The others looked intently. Some kind of vehicle was approaching at outlandish speed, apparently traveling in a deep groove, which now the quartet came to notice it, was gouged in the center of the road.

      “Certainly traveling,” Abna commented, as the queer, ball-shaped object leaped out of the distance.

      “And incidentally, we’re seeing the realization of something here which I’ve often theorized upon yet never seen actually. A monorail track.”

      Such indeed proved to be the case. Moving at certainly something in the neighborhood of 300 miles an hour, the vehicle shot nearer the motionless space machine. Moving with such speed it even occasioned the quartet a momentary alarm. It seemed it could never pull up in time, and yet it did. Stopping, it was only a matter of three yards from the stationary vessel.

      “Well, this is it.” The Amazon gave a grim glance as yet again she fingered the weapons in her belt. “I’m all set for trouble. How about the rest of you?”

      “Why anticipate trouble?” Abna asked, with a curious glance.

      “It’s all one can expect. If the assumption proves to be incorrect, it’s all the nicer.… Better get the airlock open, Abna.”

      He nodded, and the metal inner covering slid back. Then before opening the outer lock he suddenly bethought himself and consulted the exterior gauges over the switchboard. Not that he need have worried: the readings were quite reassuring, giving a temperature and humidity similar to that of Earth, and a breathable atmosphere. And, from the feel of things, gravity, too, was about normal, though with the change in size it was difficult to assess correctly.

      “Talk about war paint!” Viona murmured, watching through the window. “Take a look at this lot!”

      The others were already looking, and once Abna had the main airlock open he, too, crossed over to the window—to observe a quartet of resplendent individuals coming from the monorail ear. All of them were tall, but not abnormally so, with exceptionally wide shoulders. Every one of them was totally bald and clean-shaven, and their attire was magnificent to the last detail. Their robes seemed to be all in one piece and were of a delightful royal blue, with a deep sash of purple thrown over the left shoulder. They looked exactly like Scriptural dignitaries of extreme wealth. Nowhere did they appear to carry arms of any sort.

      Abna raised a powerful arm in the universal greeting of goodwill as they came forward.

      “Greetings!” Abna exclaimed, to break the tension. “We come as friends and to bring you good tidings.”

      For the first time the men smiled, not so much at the quartet as at each other. It seemed as though they had found the answer to a question that had puzzled them. Perhaps it was whether or not the quartet would prove hostile. Now they had their answer.

      In response, one of the four men answered, but as had been anticipated, his language was completely incomprehensible. Finally he resorted to signs, indicating the monorail car with an unmistakable gesture.

      “Do we?” the Amazon asked, with a glance, “If we lose this spaceship, we lose everything.”

      “We haven’t much choice,” Abna replied, shrugging, and set the example by walking forward. It pleased him to note that the four men fell aside in deference as he moved, and he even suspected their heads were slightly bowed in subservience. All of which did much to bolster up the theory of friendship.

      Abna having taken the plunge, the Amazon, Viona, and Mexone followed suit. In a moment or two they were all within the control cabin of the monorail car, gazing about them with interest upon a number of panels that, from their very nature, proved that these people were anything but ignorant of scientific laws.

      Entering, the leader of the four men waved to a long, softly sprung seat. Then he and his colleague settled in special driving saddles and by automatic control the door closed. A second later the monorail car started up and, had the four not been accustomed to tremendous velocities, they would probably have been caused considerable anguish by the acceleration. Even as it was they were pressed tightly back into their sprung seats as with terrific speed the vehicle went back along the track the way it had originally come. The curious thing was that there seemed to be no lag between starting and picking up speed. Almost instantaneously the machine reached a 400-mile-an-hour velocity from a standing start, taking no cognizance of inertia or basic laws.

      This was a problem that seemed to preoccupy Abna, and the Amazon, too, in a lesser way. She had not the mentality of an Abna, brilliant though she undoubtedly was.… Entirely disinterested in the scientific side issues were Viona and Mexone. Their heads close together, they gazed out of the window on the flashing scenery outside.

      For a seemingly interminable time, despite their speed, there seemed to be nothing but the one enormous gouged road; but at last things began to change and they found themselves approaching the heart of the city proper. Then suddenly—stillness. Without any slowing down, or even a hint of it, the machine stopped dead. The quartet were thrown forward, but not as violently as they would have expected, but the four magnificently resplendent men seemed unconcerned as they climbed from their control

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