Islands in the Air | Page 9

feeling of loneliness assailed me not unmixed with misgivings. My eyes roved about me. I had but a vague knowledge of the mechanism of this craft. Its bewildering array of wheels and levers and buttons appalled me, thanks to the Professor's foolish procrastination in teaching me their use. I wondered what would become of me, marooned here in the air should the Professor crash and something happen to Greta. I knew the island could not be lowered from the ground by anyone save the Professor. I looked below hopelessly. The workmen were only small dots, and the buildings and equipment of the plant looked like toys.
My attention was soon diverted to the Professor and his island. Majestically he rose into the air until he was about on a level with me. Then I saw him hurrying about over the structure, pausing now and then to oil and examine a machine, to adjust a lever and try a valve. I took up the binoculars and watched him closely. I saw that he was nervous, and the expression on his face alarmed me. His cheeks were pale, his eyes glowing like red coals and the motions of his lips told me he was talking rapidly to himself. I feared that the dreaded moment long feared by Greta had come at last.
And then as I gazed I saw about half a mile beyond the Professor something moving among the trees. Autumn was tardy in coming and most of the timber among the evergreens still retained its foliage though it was splashed with gold. As I watched the tops of the timber seemed to expand, to become strangely animated. Then they appeared to be rising to meet the sky as though they had suddenly taken on a phenomenal growth.
I blinked, lowered the glasses and hastily wiped them with my handkerchief. But as I placed them again to my eyes I uttered a cry of amazement and stupefaction, for soaring above the tree tops was another island of the sky! And this island carried trees and shrubs on its bosom. There was grass there and flowers. At each corner and in the center were airplane beacons the same as ours, but they were of a brilliant hue and artistic design.

A Catastrophe
I rubbed my eyes with a trembling hand. What had come over me to cause this hallucination? I had thought so much about this sky island business, had lost so much sleep over it that the thing was getting the best of my reason. I surely was seeing things. That green island over there soaring into the blue was a mirage, a fantasy of a disordered brain. I resolved to get a grip on myself and quit this business before it was too late. But as I stared again the mirage persisted mockingly, grew plainer and finally ceased its upward flight and came to rest. It was then that I suddenly discerned a figure bobbing about near the corner masthead--a small man with a bristling black beard. I caught my breath with a gasp. My God, I was beholding no mirage but the devilish handiwork of Professor Stiener's rival--Van Beck!
With sickening force the hot truth surged over me--Van Beck had stolen a march on us, after all. He had photographed the blue print the day Greta landed him in her plane. He had broken into the office, and the report that he had gone abroad was a lie and a blind. He had stolen the Professor's secret and improved it. True to form he was about to rob the Professor of the fruits of victory. The thing was unthinkable but there was the evidence before my eyes.
And now as I looked closer I saw another man on the green island. His back was toward me and he was crouched over some sort of a machine. He seemed to be working over Van Beck's directions, for I saw the latter run up to him every little while and gesticulate excitedly.
All this time the Professor was still running about making everything secure for his coming test. At last he paused and looked around with an air of satisfaction. All was ready. And then I observed him suddenly catch sight of his sky neighbor. I saw his face grow white as chalk, and he stood for a moment rigid as a statue. Then he placed a hand to his head in a dazed sort of way. Suddenly I saw him stagger forward, grip a large lever and cast his eyes in my direction. I thought he was about to try out the lateral act, to come over to me and discuss Van Beck's startling appearance in our field. In another moment I saw that his island was indeed moving laterally, but not in my direction. He was rushing