The Moon Pool | Page 2

the Nan-Matal, that extraordinary group of island
ruins clustered along the eastern shore of Ponape in the Carolines.
I knew that he had planned to spend at least a year among these ruins,
not only of Ponape but of Lele--twin centres of a colossal riddle of
humanity, a weird flower of civilization that blossomed ages before the
seeds of Egypt were sown; of whose arts we know little enough and of
whose science nothing. He had carried with him unusually complete
equipment for the work he had expected to do and which, he hoped,

would be his monument.
What then had brought Throckmartin to Port Moresby, and what was
that change I had sensed in him?
Hurrying down to the lower deck I found him with the purser. As I
spoke he turned, thrust out to me an eager hand--and then I saw what
was that difference that had so moved me. He knew, of course by my
silence and involuntary shrinking the shock my closer look had given
me. His eyes filled; he turned brusquely from the purser, hesitated
--then hurried off to his stateroom.
"'E looks rather queer--eh?" said the purser. "Know 'im well, sir?
Seems to 'ave given you quite a start."
I made some reply and went slowly up to my chair. There I sat,
composed my mind and tried to define what it was that had shaken me
so. Now it came to me. The old Throckmartin was on the eve of his
venture just turned forty, lithe, erect, muscular; his controlling
expression one of enthusiasm, of intellectual keenness, of--what shall I
say--expectant search. His always questioning brain had stamped its
vigor upon his face.
But the Throckmartin I had seen below was one who had borne some
scaring shock of mingled rapture and horror; some soul cataclysm that
in its climax had remoulded, deep from within, his face, setting on it
seal of wedded ecstasy and despair; as though indeed these two had
come to him hand in hand, taken possession of him and departing left
behind, ineradicably, their linked shadows!
Yes--it was that which appalled. For how could rapture and horror,
Heaven and Hell mix, clasp hands--kiss?
Yet these were what in closest embrace lay on Throckmartin's face!
Deep in thought, subconsciously with relief, I watched the shore line
sink behind; welcomed the touch of the wind of the free seas. I had
hoped, and within the hope was an inexplicable shrinking that I would

meet Throckmartin at lunch. He did not come down, and I was sensible
of deliverance within my disappointment. All that afternoon I lounged
about uneasily but still he kept to his cabin--and within me was no
strength to summon him. Nor did he appear at dinner.
Dusk and night fell swiftly. I was warm and went back to my
deck-chair. The Southern Queen was rolling to a disquieting swell and I
had the place to myself.
Over the heavens was a canopy of cloud, glowing faintly and testifying
to the moon riding behind it. There was much phosphorescence.
Fitfully before the ship and at her sides arose those stranger little swirls
of mist that swirl up from the Southern Ocean like breath of sea
monsters, whirl for an instant and disappear.
Suddenly the deck door opened and through it came Throckmartin. He
paused uncertainly, looked up at the sky with a curiously eager, intent
gaze, hesitated, then closed the door behind him.
"Throck," I called. "Come! It's Goodwin."
He made his way to me.
"Throck," I said, wasting no time in preliminaries. "What's wrong? Can
I help you?"
I felt his body grow tense.
"I'm going to Melbourne, Goodwin," he answered. "I need a few
things--need them urgently. And more men--white men--"
He stopped abruptly; rose from his chair, gazed intently toward the
north. I followed his gaze. Far, far away the moon had broken through
the clouds. Almost on the horizon, you could see the faint
luminescence of it upon the smooth sea. The distant patch of light
quivered and shook. The clouds thickened again and it was gone. The
ship raced on southward, swiftly.

Throckmartin dropped into his chair. He lighted a cigarette with a hand
that trembled; then turned to me with abrupt resolution.
"Goodwin," he said. "I do need help. If ever man needed it, I do.
Goodwin--can you imagine yourself in another world, alien, unfamiliar,
a world of terror, whose unknown joy is its greatest terror of all; you all
alone there, a stranger! As such a man would need help, so I need--"
He paused abruptly and arose; the cigarette dropped from his fingers.
The moon had again broken through the clouds, and this time much
nearer. Not a mile away was the patch of light that it threw upon the
waves. Back of it,