Beyond the Vanishing Point | Page 8

small and seemed to be far
away. I blinked. Horror surged over me. Their figures were dwindling
as they stood there. Polter was saying something to the man at the
microscope. Other men were nearby, watching. All were normal, save
Polter and Babs. A moment passed. Polter was standing by the chair in
which the man at the microscope was sitting. And Polter's head barely
reached its seat! Babs was clinging to him now. Another moment and
they were both tiny figures down by the chair-leg. Then they began
walking with swaying steps toward the miniature railing of the white
slab. The white reflection from the slab plainly illumined them. Polter's
arm was around Babs. I had not realized how small they were until I
saw Polter lift the rope of the little four-inch fence, and he and Babs
stooped and walked under it. The fragment of quartz lay a foot from
them in the center of the white surface. They walked unsteadily toward
it. But soon they were running.
My horrified senses whirled. Then abruptly I felt something touch my
face! Alan and I were lying in shadow. No one had noticed my writhing
movements, and Alan was still in drugged unconsciousness. Something
tiny and light and soundless as a butterfly wing brushed my face! I
jerked my head aside. On the floor, within six inches of my eyes, I saw
the tiny figure of a girl an inch high! She stood, with a warning gesture
to her lips--a human girl in a filmy flowing robe. Long, pale golden
tresses lay on her white shoulders; her face, small as my little fingernail,
colorful as a miniature painted on ivory, was so close to my eyes that I
could see her expression--warning me not to move.
There was a faint glow of light on the floor where she stood, but in a
moment she moved out of it. Then I felt her brush against the back of
my head. My ear was near the ground. A tiny warm hand touched my
ear lobe; clung to it. A tiny voice sounded in my ear.

"Please do not move your head. You might kill me!"
There was a pause. I held myself rigid. Then the tiny voice came again.
"I am Glora, a friend. I have the drug! I will help you!"
CHAPTER III
It seemed that Alan was stirring. I felt the tiny hand leave my ear. I
thought that I could hear faint little footfalls as the girl scampered away,
fearful that a sudden movement by Alan would crush her. I turned
cautiously after a moment and saw Alan's eyes upon me. He too had
seen, with a blurred returning consciousness, the dwindling figures of
Babs and Polter. I followed his gaze. The while slab with the golden
quartz under the microscope seemed empty. The several men in this
huge circular dome-room were dispersing to their affairs; three of them
sat whispering by what I now saw was a pile of gold ingots stacked
crosswise. But the fellow at the microscope held his place, his eyes
glued to its aperture as he watched the vanishing figures of Polter and
Babs on the rock-fragment.
Alan was trying to convey something to me. He could only gaze and
jerk his head. I saw behind his head the figures of the tiny girl on the
floor behind him. She wanted evidently to approach his head, but didn't
dare. When for an instant he was quiet, she ran forward, but at once
scampered back.
From the group by the ingots, one of the men rose and came toward us.
Alan held still, watching. And the girl, Glora, seized the opportunity to
come nearer. We both heard her tiny voice:
"Do not move! Close your eyes! Make him think you are still
unconscious."
Then she was gone, like a mouse hiding in the shadows near us.
Amazement swept Alan's face; he twisted, mouthed at his gag. But he
saw my eager nod and took his cue from me.

I closed my eyes and lay stiff, breathing slowly. Footsteps approached.
A man bent over Alan and me.
"Are you no conscious yet?" It was the voice of a foreigner, with a
queer, indescribable intonation. A foot prodded us. "Wake up!"
Then the footsteps retreated, and when I dared to look, the man was
rejoining his fellows. It was a strange looking trio. They were heavy-set
men in leather jackets and short, wide knee-length trousers. One wore
tight, high boots, and the others a sort of white buckskin, with ankle
straps. All were bare-headed--round, bullet heads of close-clipped
black hair.
I suddenly had another startling realization. These men were not of
normal size as I had assumed! They were eight or ten feet tall at the
very least! And