The Infra-Medians | Page 4

seemed that an instant before I had been standing
there in Vic's laboratory, slowly turning the second of the two dials,
while the four lights beat down upon my body. And now ... and now I
was standing in the open, on another world. A nightmare world that
words seem inadequate to describe.
* * * * *
The sky was an angry, sulphurous green, pressing low upon a country
utterly flat and nearly barren. The only sign of vegetation I could
perceive were strange growths that remotely resembled trees--inverted
trees, with wide-spreading branches hungrily nursing the black and
barren soil, and gnarled, brief roots reaching out tortured arms toward
the forbidding sky.
To my left, and some distance away, a vast number of blunt and ugly
towers rose against the sinister skyline, but no form of animal life
seemed in evidence. Wonderingly, my head whirling, whether from my
strange experience or from the shock of finding myself in what was
obviously another world, I do not know, I turned toward the city. And
as I took my first step, there materialized suddenly out of the thin and
ill-smelling air, the figures of perhaps a dozen monstrous creatures.
They were, in effect, men. That is, they had a head, a torso, two arms
and two legs apiece. But they were not human. Those huge round eyes,
unblinking and browless, were not human, nor were their slitted,
sunken mouths. They were not human beings; they were images of
despair.
Their thin legs seemed to buckle at the knees, their arms drooped from
their shoulders, their mouths sagged at the corners, even their huge ears
hung down like a hound's. Their round, dark eyes, deeply recessed,

were caverns of despair.
* * * * *
They were clothed in some coarse, black stuff that bristled as though
loosely woven of stiff hair, and yet which was not a true fabric, for it
seemed to move within itself, and scintillate, as though composed of
billions of restless motes. And as the strange creatures closed in quickly,
I saw that theirs was not solid flesh, but, like the clothing that partially
covered them, an attenuated substance that was not quite real.
Have you ever sat close to the screen in a motion picture theatre, so that
the graininess of the moving film was visible? These creatures were
like such shadows, seen in three dimensions.
I retreated two or three swift steps, jerking the revolver from my
pocket.
"Back!" I warned, hoping they would understand the tone of voice if
not the words. "Back--or I'll pot a couple of you!"
They glanced at each other, swiftly, almost as though they understood.
It seemed to me that their mouths lifted; that they almost smiled. Then
they rushed at me.
I had only one box of cartridges, besides those in the cylinder of my
gun. I didn't know what might be in store for me, and I took no
chances.
My first shot sent one of the creatures spinning to the ground. Two
more were almost upon me before I could level the weapon and pull the
trigger again. I got them both.
The rest of that unholy crew were grinning, and their eyes were shining
with anticipation. They closed in upon me eagerly, each apparently
doing everything in his power to invite my attention. It was bewildering,
and I watched them warily, suspecting a trick. There were only three
more cartridges left in my gun, and I did not dare replace the fired

shells for fear they would rush me when the action was open and the
gun momentarily useless.
* * * * *
I was just about to risk one more cartridge when another figure
materialized in the ranks of the enemy; a taller, commanding figure,
with a shining jewel, perhaps a mark of authority, dangling from his
corded brown throat.
The others fell back instantly, and the newcomer approached me
swiftly, holding out his hands as though in supplication.
So I was to receive a cordial welcome after all! I breathed a sigh of
relief, and pocketed the weapon--and instantly the dark eyes flashed
angrily. I held out both hands, to show that they were empty, trying to
express my willingness to be friends.
He hesitated, and then uttered a high-pitched sound that I presumed to
be a word of command. Before I could free the gun again, the creatures
had me, and while their flesh looked more unnatural and unreal than
ever, at close range, their long fingers gripped me like talons of steel.
The being which had uttered the command disappeared, and my captors
led me, struggling and protesting, toward the black, ugly towers of the
city.
Over the barren, rocky ground we hurried; past the wretched hovels on
the outskirts of the