In the first days of our friendship I had several times surprised in Aga"s eyes a curious expression, one that seemed compounded of despair, horror and resignation.
I had seen that same expression in the eyes of the n.o.bles of late, and in the faces of all the people I encountered in the streets--who, I mustn"t forget to add here, never failed to treat me with a deference that was as intoxicating as it was inexplicable.
It was as though some terrible fate hovered over the populace, some dreadful doom about which nothing could be done. No one put into words any fears that might confirm that impression; but continually I got the idea that everybody there went about in a state of attempting to live normally and happily while life was still left--before some awful, wholesale death descended on them.
At last, from Aga, I learned the fateful reason.
But first--a confession that was hastened by the knowledge of the fate of the city--I learned from her something that changed all of life for me.
We were surrounded by the luxury of her private apartment. We sat on a low divan, side by side. I wanted, more than anything I had ever wanted before, to put my arms around her. But I dared not. One does not make love easily to a queen, the three hundred and eleventh of a proud line.
And then, as maids have done often in all countries, and, perhaps, on all planets, she took the initiative herself.
"We have a curious custom in Zyobor of which I have not yet told thee,"
she murmured. "It concerns the kings of Zyobor. The color of their hair."
She glanced up at my own carrot-top, and then averted her gaze.
"For all of our history our kings have had--red hair. On the few occasions when the line has been reduced to a lone queen, as in my case, the red-haired men of the kingdom have striven together in public combat to determine which was most powerful and brave. The winner became the Queen"s consort."
"And in this case?" I asked, my heart beginning to pound madly.
"In my case, my lord, there is to be no--no striving. When I was a child our only two red-haired males died, one by accident, one by sickness.
Now there are none others but infants, none of eligible age. But--by a miracle--thou--"
She stopped; then gazed up at me from under long, gold flecked lashes.
"I was afraid ... I was doomed to die ... alone...."
It was after I had replied impetuously to this, that she told me of the terror that was about to engulf all life in the beautiful undersea city.
"Thou hast wonder, perhaps, why I should be forward enough to tell thee this instead of waiting for thine own confession first," she faltered.
"Know, then--the reason is the shortness of the time we are fated to spend together. We shall belong each to the other only a little while.
Then shall we belong to death! And I--when I knew the time was to be so brief--"
And I listened with growing horror to her account of the enemy that was advancing toward us with every pa.s.sing moment.
About twenty miles away, in the lowest depression of Penguin Deep, lived a race of monsters which the people of Aga"s city called Quabos.
The Quabos were grim beings that were more intelligent than Aga"s fish-servants--even, she thought, more intelligent than humans themselves. They had existed in their dark hole, as far as the Zyobites knew, from the beginning of time.
Through the countless centuries they had constructed for themselves a vast series of dens in the rock. There they had hidden away from the deep-sea dangers. They, too, preyed on the mound-fish; but as there was plenty of food for all, the Zyobites had never paid much attention to them.
But--just before we had appeared, there had come about a subterranean quake that changed the entire complexion of matters in Penguin Deep.
The earthquake wiped out the elaborately burrowed sea tunnels of the Quabos, killing half of them at a blow and driving the rest out into the unfriendly openness of the deep.
Now this was fatal to them. They were not used to physical self defense.
During the thousands of years of residence in their sheltered burrows they had become utterly unable to exist when exposed to the primeval dangers of the sea. It was as though the civilization-softened citizens of New York should suddenly be set down in a howling wilderness with nothing but their bare hands with which to contrive all the necessities of a living.
Such was the situation at the time Stanley, the Professor and myself arrived in Zyobor.
The Quabos must find an immediate haven or perish. On the ocean bottom they were threatened by the mound-fish. In the higher levels they were in danger from almost everything that swam: few things were so defenceless as themselves after their long inertia.
Their answer was Zyobor. There, in perfect security, only to be reached by the diving chamber that could be sealed at will by the twenty-yard, counterbalanced lock, the Quabos would be even more protected than in their former runways.
So--they were working day and night to invade Aga"s city!
"But Aga," I interrupted impulsively at this point. "If these monsters are fishes, how could they live here in air--"
I stopped as my objection answered itself before she could reply.
They would not have to live in air to inhabit Zyobor. They would inundate the city--flood that peaceful, beautiful place with the awful pressure of the lowest depths!
That thought, in turn, suggested to me that every building in Zyobor would be swept flat if subjected suddenly to the rush of the sea. The great low cavern, without the support of the myriad walls, would probably collapse--trapping the invading Quabos and leaving the rest without a home once more.
But Aga answered this before I could voice it.
The Quabos had foreseen that point. They were tunneling slowly but surely toward the city from a point about half a mile from the diving chamber. And as they advanced, they blocked up the pa.s.sageway behind them at intervals, drilled down to the great underground sea that lay beneath all this section, and drained a little of the water away.
In this manner they lightened, bit by bit, the enormous weight of the ocean depths. When the city was finally reached, not only would it be ensured against sudden destruction but the Quabos themselves would have become accustomed to the difference in pressure. Had they gone immediately from the accustomed press of Penguin Deep into the atmosphere of Zyobor, they would have burst into bits. As it was they would be able to flood the city slowly, without injury to themselves.
"Now thou knowest our fate," concluded Aga with a shudder. "Zyobor will be a part of the great waters. We ourselves shall be food for these monsters...." She faltered and stopped.
"But this cannot be!" I exclaimed, clenching my fists impotently. "There _must_ be something we can do; some way--"
"There is nothing to be done. Our wisest men have set themselves sleeplessly to the task of defence. There is no defence possible."
"We can"t simply sit here and wait! Your people are wonderful, but this is no time for resignation. Send for my two friends, Aga. We will have a council of war, we four, and see if we can find a way!"
She shrugged despairfully, started to speak, then sent in quest of Stanley and the Professor.
They as well as myself, had had no idea of the menace that crept nearer us with each pa.s.sing hour. They were dumbfounded, horrified to learn of the peril. We sat awhile in silence, realizing our situation to the full.
Then the Professor spoke:
"If only we could see what these things look like! It might help in planning to defeat them."