Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net City of The Living Flame By HENRY HASSE The legendary city of M'Tonak lay hidden beneath Mar's Polar cap, its heart a pulsing flame from outer space. Jim Landor found the fabulous green flame, found it sentiently, evilly alive--and that its living meant death for all mankind. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Fall 1942. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Startled into action, Jim Landor straightened in his seat. He peered eagerly through the forward visiplate of the tiny rocket-plane. From the Martian metropolis that nestled in the opposite hemisphere, thirteen hundred miles away, he had taken the poorly-mapped, wearisome, rocket-course of the Polar route in order to save time. Thus he avoided being hampered by the magnetic storms raging over the Red Desert at this season. At least, so he'd told his friends. But the real, the all-important reason he had kept to himself. It was not only that they would have laughed at him, that mattered little; but that a growing, nameless dread made him even more reserved than usual. He smiled thinly now as he visualized their reactions had he dared mention the mythical city of M'Tonak. M'Tonak, city of forgotten men, where reposed the fabulous emerald large enough to ransom a world! Yes, Jim thought without bitterness; at last he had joined the fatal number of men, usually Earthmen, who had searched for M'Tonak. He was persuaded against all reason that it did exist somewhere among the polar wastes, and it was most imperative that he find it! He was sure that then he would find his brother too, who had disappeared scarcely a month before. In his perilous passage above the Cap, Jim had zig-zagged the rocket-plane dangerously off its course, searching the limitless white wastes with the intentness of desperation. But in vain. "Well," he murmured now, "no M'Tonak, so I'll settle for Riida--for the time being." The tiny Martian town was beneath him, its crazy conical structures reaching up like pointing forefingers. Jim's hand came down on the descent lever. A ghostly whirr disturbed the stillness as the plane's stubby wings sliced the atmosphere on its downward glide. It contacted gently, plowing a shallow furrow in the powdery sand that rose cloud-fine to engulf him as he climbed out. Already he saw two men hurrying toward him from the town. "One of them must be Conley," he decided and went forward to meet the mine superintendent. * * * * * "Hello, Jim Landor, welcome to Riida!" Conley shook hands with a quiet, unobtrusive pleasure that seemed sincere. Jim liked him immediately. He noted his straight-forward eyes, the faint burr of his booming Irish voice and the little mannerism of thoughtfully rubbing his hand across his massive chin. The other Earthman, Conley introduced as Wessel, the newly arrived surveying engineer for "Tri-Planetary Mining." As Jim glanced at the thin features and small wiry frame, he sensed something hard behind the man's clouded eyes. Wessel remained silent, smiling inscrutably as he listened to their conversation. "So you came across the Cap, eh Landor?" Conley said friendily, taking Jim's arm as they trudged toward the town. "Any sign of M'Tonak?" And as Jim looked at him sharply he hastened to add: "Not that I'm poking fun at you, lad. But you're news now, you know, same as anyone who goes seeking for M'Tonak. Heard a news-story about you on the Trans-telector not more'n a couple hours ago." "I thought my flight was a secret." "Ah, no! No man's flight is secret who comes over the Martian Cap. That can mean but one thing. Yep, the legend of M'Tonak is rife once more, first time in two years. You're supposed to be searching for the lost city ... now, what would ye be wanting with an emerald that big?" Conley half joked, lapsing into his Irish brogue. "Faith an' it makes a man's head swim to think of such riches." Jim Landor did not smile. He looked at Conley seriously. "I've only been on Mars a year, but naturally I'd heard stories of M'Tonak long before that. _You_ called it a legend just now. Tell me, what is your honest opinion?" "Well, lad. Certainly there's _something_ up there to cause these stories to persist." Conley rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe it's an ancient city called M'Tonak and maybe it ain't. But men in search for it have disappeared too regularly, hardly men who wouldn't ordinarily fail to return from the Polar wastes. And--and if there is a M'Tonak, your brother may have reached it." "I shall find my brother," Jim said with a soft certainty. "That's why I'm here. What about that Martian, the one you said accompanied Frank into the Cap? Is he here now?" "He is, and you shall talk to him. But, lad, I'm afraid he can't tell you any more than I did in the letter." "I want to hear it first hand." "Sure," Conley nodded understandingly. They walked in silence through the powdery sand, nearing the town. Jim glanced at Wessel, silent still, his hieratic smile barely perceptible. There was an uncanny aura to the man as if he were immersed in a world of his own where Jim and Conley had no part. "There's Frank's mine," Conley pointed beyond the town toward a low line of hills. "If you look close you can see his shack over there. As you probably know, he was--well, the independent type. Refused to sell out to Tri-Planetary Mining. That's why he went on north when his claim petered out, in an effort to find the source of the radite veins. Want to go over there and look around?" "Later," Jim said shortly. They entered the sprawling town with its curious Martian dwellings. Jim had never ceased to marvel at them. They were conical and glistening, built of a reddish manufactured silica. They were surrounded by an ascending spiral dotted with entrances to the very top. Jim sometimes wondered, too, at the manner in which Martians tolerated so much from the Earthmen. But then, it was well known that activity to a Martian was the final degradation. They looked upon the exertions of the Earthman in a mixture of uncomprehending wonder and supercilious amusement, much as a human might watch the eternal hustle of a colony of ants. Theirs was a world of philosophic contemplation, peace and indolence. Now, as they proceeded along the straggling main street of Riida, Jim wondered about them even more. From various ramps of the conical buildings residents watched them silently. Tall, wasp-waisted Martians, dark and leathery, passed them leisurely on the street without a word. They weren't sullen, it was as though they didn't care. Jim peered into their heavy-lidden eyes. Colorless eyes, always. He was startled at the somnolence he saw there. It struck a vague disturbing note in his brain that was dashed away by Conley's booming voice: "Here we are!" * * * * * They had reached a squat, basaltic building which bore the legend TRI-PLANETARY MINING CORPORATION. "Enter the lair of the Octopus," Conley laughed, glancing at the gilded sign above him. Wessel frowned at the words, and by that token Jim knew that he was a Corporation man to the hilt. Within, Jim found himself in an atmosphere as far removed from Mars as day is from night. The office was plain and unpretentious. There was an old-fashioned desk, a few chairs and some iron lockers against the wall. On the walls, in curious contrast, were pictures of cinema stars several years out of date, and a few yellowed maps of the company's workings. "Not only has Frank's claim petered out," Conley explained, "but Tri-Planet is beginning to. That's the reason Wessel's here, to try and trace these radite veins to their source. We think they must stem from somewhere up in the Cap." Jim nodded. "You haven't many Earthmen here now, have you?" "About a dozen," Conley shrugged. "More than enough to handle what little radite's left." "And we wouldn't even need them," Wessel spoke for the first time, "if we could get these damn lazy Martians to stir themselves." Jim turned his gaze on the man with slowly dawning wonderment, and would have spoken, but was interrupted by Conley: "Jim, we thought we'd head up into the Cap in the morning, four or five of us. Wessel wanted to leave several days ago, but I insisted on waiting for you. However, I can't say how far north we'll be going. It all depends on the radite traces." "Thanks, Conley, I really appreciate it. All I know about this Polar Cap is what I saw flying over it. What do we do, make the trek afoot?" "Afoot, he says!" Wessel scoffed before Conley could answer. "Man, what a lot you've got to learn yet about that country up there!" "No," Conley answered, with a distasteful glance at Wessel. "Most men who've tried it afoot have not come back. We're trying it with a couple of sleds. Motor-driven, of course, of very little metal alloy. Furnished benignantly by Tri-Planet Mining, since it's to their advantage that we find new radite deposits." The slight scorn in his voice was not lost on Wessel. "We figure it'll be a two or three day trip each way." "But of course," Wessel said suavely, "if we find M'Tonak or any other cities up there with big fabulous emeralds, we'll forget about the radite." Jim was fast learning to dislike this man; he turned to Conley. "I think I'll see this Martian you were telling me about, the one who accompanied my brother." "Kaarji? Sure. I'll go fetch him." "Better take me to him instead, I'd rather talk to him alone." * * * * * As Conley had said, Kaarji wasn't of much help. The tall, leathery, heavy-chested Martian was even more taciturn than the usual members of his race. He seemed to show a distrust of Jim. However, he did agree to accompany Jim across the mile strip of desert to Frank Landor's mine nestled against the hills. As they trudged through the sand in silence, Jim glanced occasionally at Kaarji. He was sure he had made it plain that he was Frank Landor's brother. The Martian wasn't dumb, he knew why Jim was here. With a friendly and almost instinctive gesture Jim offered the Martian a cigarette. Kaarji accepted it, looked at it with distaste as though he had tried them before and abhorred them; but he placed it clumsily in his lips nevertheless and smoked it valiantly. At the same time he reached into his pocket and handed Jim a few tiny purplish objects. Jim accepted them, looked at them and shuddered. He had heard of Martian _tsith_ stems and knew that they made almost all Earthmen violently ill. Nevertheless he plopped them into his mouth and began chewing. Kaarji looked at him approvingly and gave a grotesque smile. As though the Earthman's act were a signal, he began talking. "I don't like it in town," Kaarji said. "Too many Earthmen. I like it over here." "At Frank's mine, you mean?" "Yes. Frank Landor was a fine man. I am sorry he did not come back." "Perhaps he will come back," Jim suggested. But Kaarji shook his head. It took very little effort then to get the entire story. It seemed that Frank Landor and Kaarji had trekked four days into the Martian Cap. Only Kaarji had ever gone that far before. Late on the fourth day, as they camped, Kaarji was awakened by a shout from Frank. He had leaped up and glimpsed Frank Landor running toward a vehicle that rested at the bottom of an icy decline.... Here Kaarji faltered slightly in his story. He had not seen the vehicle plainly enough nor long enough to describe it as other than a car, seemingly unlike any he had ever seen before. It was simply round and grayish and metallic, and completely enclosed. It had a bluish beam of light in the front of it. Frank Landor had seemed to enter the car--and then it sped away with him. "Kaarji, try to remember," Jim said to the Martian now. "Frank entered the car of his own volition? You saw no one else, no other person?" "No one else." Kaarji seemed sure of it. Jim shook his head in puzzlement. This was the same story Kaarji had told Conley, there were no discrepancies. They walked on to the mine in silence. Jim examined several tunnels leading back into the hills and saw that Frank's claim had indeed petered out. In his iron-walled cabin, everything was left as though Frank had merely gone and intended to return in a few days. "Let's go back," Jim said finally. "Nothing we can do here." On the walk back to Riida, Jim thought that Kaarji looked at him several times as though he were going to speak. But when Jim questioned him, the Martian shook his head negatively. He offered Kaarji another cigarette but this time it was declined. It was not until then that Jim realized he was still chewing on the Martian _tsith_ stems, and that Kaarji was grinning at him. It was not until he reached the edge of town that he became violently ill. II The sun rose on a crystal clear morning and glanced beckoningly from the white expanse that capped the cliffs a few miles distant. Five men were making the trip: Jim and Kaarji, Conley, Wessel and Lewis, the latter, one of the workmen who had had some Polar experience. The motor-sled parts were light but bulky, and it took a dozen men to transport them across to the cliffs and up into the Cap, where they would be assembled. "I want to tell you something about Kaarji," Conley said, walking beside Jim as the trek began. "He's not like other Martians, not philosophic and indolent. On the contrary he seems--well, _restless_." "I know the type," Jim nodded. "I've seen a few of them myself, even in the Capitol City; amazingly energetic for Martians, restless and perpetually wandering as though seeking for--for something vague and unknown even to them." "That describes Kaarji, all right," Conley nodded emphatically. "Jim, three times in the past year he's left here abruptly and trekked alone up into those Polar wastes. He'd be gone for days and then show up here again, exhausted and brooding, as if he'd just missed his goal. And the last time was with Frank Landor. That mean anything to you?" Jim shook his head puzzledly. "Now I wonder," Conley murmured, "what he always finds so interesting up there in that wilderness?" "Probably doesn't find anything. Maybe he's only--seeking. Perpetually seeking." "Seeking M'Tonak?" "Maybe." Conley scoffed. "Now what would Kaarji do with the emerald of M'Tonak if he did find it? Of what value would it be to _any_ Martian, to the whole dying Martian race?" "Maybe it isn't the emerald the Martians are interested in." Conley was startled, glanced sharply at him, but Jim kept his eyes on the huge bulk of Kaarji ahead. They reached the black cliffs and entered a narrow defile that led gradually upward, tortuously. The rock was a soft, igneous basalt which at times made footing extremely hazardous. After an hour of this Kaarji stopped abruptly in a level place. They leaned thankfully against the cliff wall, and stared out upon the curving gleam of the Red Desert far below. There the hazes of pinkish dust were beginning to drift and the sun was beginning to bite. They continued when Kaarji continued. An hour later the air had become a chilling blast sweeping down the widening ravine. Luckily the ascent was becoming less steep as they neared the top. It levelled off into a shallow little gorge, then they were beyond that, emerging out onto the plateau. Scattered patches of dark rocky terrain showed here, where green growing things struggled pitifully to maintain a meagre existence. Less than a mile away the real Cap began, dazzling white and forbidding. Reaching there, the two sleds were assembled in a few minutes. The five who were to make the trip now readjusted their packs and put on the priceless coats of Praaka fur, unbelievably light and cold repelling. They also painstakingly tightened the high fabricord leggings Conley had insisted they wear. Jim wondered why, but asked no questions as he followed suit. The supplies were on the sleds, but each man carried a fully charged electro-pistol and a small, light metal tank strapped to his side. "Acid spray," Conley explained laconically. "Don't worry, you'll realize the use for it before long." * * * * * Now the real trip began. "Kaarji, you and Lewis take the first sled," Conley instructed. "We'll follow." The Martian nodded. The motors purred and the sleds moved slowly away. "Yes, we'll follow him," Wessel murmured. "Just as long as he sticks fairly close to the radite veins, we will. _This_ is what I'm going by." And he touched the little metallic device at his wrist, which Jim knew was susceptible through super-sensitive coils to all radite emanations within a radius of several miles. Conley frowned but nodded mute agreement. And now for the first time it really dawned on Jim that he and Kaarji were apart from these other men. He and the Martian were up here seeking, not radite deposits, but something else. The same thing but for different reasons. Jim determined to try, at the first opportunity, to probe into that big Martian's mind. Now they were speeding into the real Polar vastness. Kaarji's sled ahead of them dipped and rose across long icy undulations. The terrain was wide and white and peaceful as far as Jim could see. He began to wonder why men had never been able to penetrate very far up here. Even afoot it ought not to be hard, but this was ridiculously easy! As he huddled there in his place on the sled he was very warm and cozy beneath his coat of Praaka fur. He began to get drowsy.... * * * * * Jim awoke with a start from the deep, firm depths of somnolence. He was aware that they had been moving for a long time, probably many hours. Now the sky was dark above him and he could see a few stars. But _something_ had shattered his drowsiness to jerk him back to reality, and he wondered what it was. Then he knew, as it came again. There was a sudden movement beneath them. The sled lurched crazily. Conley was shouting something, as their sled pulled up beside Kaarji's, which was lying half on its side. The men stepped down. Again there came that sudden movement, and Jim nearly fell! Startled, he looked down and saw that the very ice cap was moving beneath their feet, or rather it was expanding! Long lines began to appear in every direction. As far as he could see, the surface was a vast mosaic pattern. Conley stood there with his hands on his hips, staring around. Wessel was cursing softly and looked angry. "This wouldn't have happened," Wessel said, "if you'd taken my advice and left two days ago! Tomorrow it'll be worse. It'll slow us to a walk. We may as well not have brought along any sleds." "It would've happened anyway!" Conley snapped testily. "It's just our damnable luck that it had to come early this year. I didn't expect this to start for another month yet. Well, we may as well camp here and get a good start in the morning." Jim looked at the mosaic pattern across the ice and was relieved to see that it had stopped moving. He peered down into a crack an inch wide, where a billowing powdery stuff exuded to spread thinly over the surface. He touched the stuff with his bare hand. It was uncannily different from snow, being infinitely more powdery yet dazzling white and deadly cold. "You're witnessing the start of the Polar Cap's receding," Conley explained with a wry smile. "It does that twice a year, you know, getting smaller to about half its present size. "Receding!" Jim exclaimed. "The damn stuff's expanding, you mean." "It only looks that way. This is just the preliminary. Soon the extreme edges will vanish away and then the entire Cap will begin receding, for some strange reason. When that starts to happen, too bad for any man caught up here. Frankly, Jim, I should say that, if this continues tomorrow, we ought to head back." That struck an ominous note in Jim's heart, but he said nothing. To return now would mean they must wait several months before making another attempt. It was while helping to unroll the wide fabricoid mats that Jim felt the sharp, biting pain just above his knee. He ignored it at first. Then it came again, and he looked down. He saw a pale blue, tubular thing about four inches long. It had bitten through his clothing and into his flesh above the knee. Quiescent now, it clung there, and its transparent bluish tint was taking on a crimson flush as it fed upon his blood. * * * * * With a loathing horror Jim reached down and pulled the thing from him. It did not come away easily. He flung it to the ice and tried to crush it with his heel. It seemed amazingly rubbery, resilient, as it darted away from under his foot. Then he saw that others had attached to his fabricoid leggings, and were inching their way upward. Desperately he tried to brush them off, but they clung tenaciously. Another one bit through his trouser leg and into the flesh. It was cold and loathesome to the touch, but he tore it away with his fingers. Then he staggered back, as he saw that the ice was swarming with the things. "Your acid tube, man, use it!" he heard Conley cry. "That's all that'll stop 'em!" Already the men were up-ending the sleds, using them as a barricade from behind which they swept the ice with a thin misty spray. Not wishing to chance that acid on his own person, Jim tore the things from his legs one at a time and flung them out into the spray. They writhed and shrivelled and curled upon themselves, lifeless and blackened. Others were coming up from the crevices now. The ice was a thick, bluish writhing mass of them. Jim added his spray to the others, sweeping it low across the ice. The acid misted and clung there close to the surface, until gradually the greater mass of the bluish things retreated back into the depths. Kaarji opened a pouch he carried always with him, took out some _tsith_ stems and placed them in his mouth. He arose and stood gazing out to the north. Jim watched him. "Whew!" Conley gasped, wiping beads of cold perspiration from his brow. "Just in time! Let those things once get a foothold up here and there's no stopping them. I guess we've settled for most of them, though, they won't come again." "But what the devil are they?" Jim asked. "And how can they subsist in this barren country?" "It's not so barren. Far below the ice are green growing things, at least this far south there is. Those blue tube-things ride down with the ice twice a year, feed, and then migrate back to the north. "Vegetarians, eh?" Jim grunted. "Then what were those two chewing on me for?" "Blood's something comparatively new to them, and it seems to drive them wild. They can sense it for amazing distances. They come flocking beneath the ice to wherever anyone stops. There's a story of an Earthman who was lost up here once, and--Well, never mind. Anyway we'll take turns on guard tonight." * * * * * Jim slept fitfully. There were fragmentary nightmares of the ice opening to spew hordes of bluish tube creatures up at him. He was glad when Kaarji awakened him for his turn at guard. But Kaarji did not return to sleep either. He seemed restless and brooding. He sat beside Jim against one of the sleds, and for a long time there was silence as he stared far out to the north with troubled eyes. "Jim Landor," he broke the silence at last, "there is one thing I did not tell you." "I thought there was." "Frank Landor and I found something. The body of a man in the ice far to the north of here. It had been there a long time." Jim merely waited for him to go on. "In his clothing we found some of these." Kaarji fumbled in his pocket, and handed something to Jim. It was a piece of metal, flat, round and amazingly light. It seemed to have once been part of some ornamentation. What interested Jim, however, was not what it might have been, but rather the metal itself. It was a dull greenish-gray in color and strangely different to the touch from any metal he had ever known. It was somehow reminiscent of radite, but only faintly. In it was a subtle suggestion of--yes, of fabulous strength and power! In the dim grayness of that Polar night Jim looked at Kaarji and said in a voice he did not recognize as his own: "Kaarji, do you realize what this means? Up here somewhere there is a city, a former civilization--a M'Tonak! That man you found dead--_he_ reached M'Tonak and was coming back with the news when disaster overtook him! But that might have been many years ago.... "Tell me something, Kaarji. Why have you come up here three times before? Are you seeking M'Tonak?" "I do not know. Something calls me. Something inside. And I only know that I must go." "Is that all, just something calling you?" "That is all. Except that this time it is different. This time I know that I shall reach--whatever is calling me, and I shall not return. I am sure of it." Jim sat there for a long time, pondering, watching Kaarji pace restlessly back and forth. The Martian was in a strange mood this night. A foreboding mood. Jim gave up puzzling about it, and examined again that strange piece of metal. Here at last was proof of M'Tonak, perhaps the first proof any man outside had ever had! He felt an exuberant hope rising in him. "Anyway, Kaarji, thanks for telling me about this. Mind if I keep it a while?" "I want you to have it, Jim Landor." III They were away early the next morning, speeding ahead of a graying dawn. Wessel was wrong, the ice no longer shifted beneath them; but the biting sun had not yet risen. Now Jim noticed that Wessel constantly consulted the device at his waist, which registered the proximity of any radite. Apparently, however, he was satisfied with the route Kaarji was taking. It was about noon when the terrain began to surge gently again as though with a life of its own, and the mosaic pattern of cracks re-appeared. But this was not enough, as yet, to stop them. What did stop them was Wessel, who called a halt a few hours later. "Must be some Floaters near here," he told Conley. "I can tell by the way this thing's acting." He tapped the radite-finder, whose needle was gyrating erratically. "Floaters?" Jim asked. "What are they?" "Trouble," Conley groaned. "More denizens for you to get acquainted with. You'll see before long." "There they come now," Wessel pointed. "We may as well wait here, and get rid of them once and for all." A long line of tiny dots had appeared low on the horizon. They came rapidly nearer and proved to be perfect spheres about a foot in diameter, apparently with an uncanny power of levitation! There were several dozens of them. Hovering in the air, they circled around the men. A few of them darted in close, experimentally. Jim threw up a hand instinctively as one zoomed too near his head. His fist contacted the taut, metallic skin of the thing. He felt a slight but inconsequential electric shock. The Floater bounced back lightly as a feather. It hovered there, took on a shimmering, greenish iridescence as though it were glaring at the Earthman. Jim felt an uncanny chill across his brain. He was sure these things were intelligent! Again it zoomed in, but again Jim shoved it back easily. "That's it," Conley said in general to the men who were staving off the pesky things. "Make them keep their distance. They're really not dangerous, if we keep them away from the metal sleds. That's what they want." The Floaters at last seemed to call a council of war. They gathered in a group behind the men. Conley took advantage of this, and gave the order to move again. But the Floaters followed slowly, longingly. A few of them made tentative darting attempts, but the men were too wary. Suddenly then, _en masse_, the Floaters launched their real attack. They came from all sides and the men were overwhelmed. A few of the spheres alighted on a sled. The metal began to crumble. Cursing, Conley knocked them away; but others alighted. "Protect the sleds!" Conley yelled. The men were trying to. A sphere attached itself to the metal fastenings of a pack, and clung there voraciously. The metal crumbled, disappeared, and the pack spewed its contents over the ice. Instantly the Floater darted to the contents, seeking more metal. Lewis drew his electro-pistol, but immediately a Floater attached itself to it; the weapon dissolved, disappeared, as the creature took on a rosy radiance of heat-energy. "Holy Hannah!" Lewis gasped. Conley was cursing volubly now, but he was suddenly cool. "All right, you men, let 'em have it--all at once! Blast 'em out of the air." They threw themselves flat on the ice and swept their weapons around in a solid, crackling barrage. That was the beginning of the end for the Floaters. They exploded in corruscating riots of bluish sparks wherever the electro-beams touched. Soon the ice was littered with their lifeless, deflated husks. The remaining ones sped far away out of danger, and they did not return. "I hated to do that," Conley sighed, "'cause I kind of like those creatures. They have intelligence of a sort. They're harmless enough ordinarily, except for their voracious appetites for metal!" "The damn things sometimes visit our mines to the south," Wessel said, "but I'm kind of surprised to find 'em away up _here_. That can only mean one thing, though. We're on the right track! The radite must stem from one huge central deposit somewhere up here!" His eyes gleamed at the thought. To Jim it meant even more. The converging radite veins, Kaarji's story of the perpetual lure that tormented him, and most of all that mysterious bit of strange metal--all this pointed to one thing, a secret somewhere to the north. And that secret was M'Tonak. Jim was sure of it now. He was sure they would reach it, that they were _meant_ to reach it. The thought surged within him, made him restless and foreboding. So that when, late that day, the car came--the silent mysterious vehicle from out of the north, just as Kaarji had described--Jim was not surprised. He had been almost expecting it. * * * * * It was while they were making camp. They were rolling out the fabricoid mats and setting up the little atomo-stoves. Jim missed Kaarji, looked around and saw the Martian at the crest of the long, smooth rise at the foot of which they had stopped. Jim drew his coat of Praaka fur closer around him and walked out to where Kaarji stood. Not until he had gained the crest of the slight ascent did he see that the Martian was in his strange mood again, standing quite still, staring out to the north. Jim approached very silently. He stood unmoving by Kaarji's side. Now he almost felt it too, an eerie feeling as though ghostly, insistent fingers were tugging at his brain. Almost, a fascinating wisp of a voice created an urgency within him. But that was imagination! He knew it, even as he drew back. For a full minute they stood there in silence. Then Kaarji, without even glancing at him, spoke in his curiously clipped monnotone: "So you feel it too, Jim Landor." "I--I thought I felt something." "The same thing that I have felt. But I have felt it stronger." Stretching out below was a long gentle decline, and beyond were the familiar vastnesses of the Polar wastes. Now Jim found himself scanning the far horizon. He felt on the very verge of something strange--and momentous. Kaarji leaned tensely, suddenly forward. Not the slightest show of emotion was in his voice as he stated: "It is coming. I know it. It will be here very soon." Jim did not ask what was coming. He knew. He had known all the time. He stared outward, following Kaarji's gaze, but could see nothing. He waited impatiently as the Martian never once removed his eyes from the horizon. Minutes passed. * * * * * Then ... much nearer and so clear that even Jim could not mistake it, a dot of light flashed across their vision. Immediately it was gone, hugging the terrain closely as though it had dipped behind an ice dune. It appeared again in the near distance, moving swiftly, unerringly toward them. It resolved itself into a penetrant beam of bluish light, the forward light on a speeding ghostly vehicle. Abruptly it slowed. It crept silently to the very foot of the slight slope below them. Breathless with wonderment, Jim waited for something to happen. Nothing happened except that the bluish light blinked abruptly off. No door opened. No one nor nothing emerged. Even at this close distance the conveyance was discernible only as a grayish, ghostly shape. Then Kaarji was running down toward it. Jim was suddenly torn between two desires. He stared after Kaarji and then back at the camp. He shouted to Conley and the others, and saw them look up and start toward him; then he was dashing madly after Kaarji who had almost reached the ghostly conveyance now. When Jim reached there, Kaarji was staring at a dark, narrow entrance in the metal hull. "It was already open," the Martian murmured. Then, as though it were expected of him, he stepped unhesitatingly inside. Jim waited for a single instant during which he surveyed the hull of the vessel. It was not any type of sled, as he had thought; indeed it did not touch the surface at all, but hovered a full foot above the ground. He heard a gentle humming as though of ionization beams. He followed Kaarji inside. There were no sort of controls that he could see; only a long row of seats filled the entire space. Kaarji had found a button that turned on some overhead lights. Still nothing happened. By this time the other men had reached there. Conley was stammering, "Jim, we--we can't leave the supplies! The sleds!" "Sleds be damned!" Jim exclaimed in an ecstasy of excitement. "This is better than a hundred sleds! Do you want to find your radite or don't you? Are you going to M'Tonak or not!" Hesitantly, Conley entered the strange craft. The others glanced nervously, then quickly followed, as though not wishing to be left alone. "I--" Conley began doubtfully. That seemed to be a signal. Instantly a well-oiled metal door slid shut behind them. Motors began to purr gently beneath their feet. The car swung around in a great circle, and they were heading into the north. From one of the comfortable pneumatic seats Jim watched the white unending landscape flashing past. He felt strangely exhilarated now that he was on the very threshold of his quest; for that they were being taken to the long-hidden, legendary city of M'Tonak, he did not for a moment doubt. It had not yet occurred to him to wonder why they were being taken. But of one thing he was sure. He said, turning to Conley: "Why do you suppose they sent the car for us? It must be that they _know_ whenever anyone is approaching M'Tonak! Always! Other expeditions must have reached here in the same manner, else why were they never found by the men who came later?" Conley nodded soberly. "And that must mean that, once inside M'Tonak, men are unable to leave." IV It seemed minutes later, but it might have been hours, that Jim Landor sat up with a start, aware that the softly purring motors had lulled him to sleep. He wondered how long they had been travelling. Now their speed seemed to have diminished considerably. But something else seemed strange. He turned to the tiny window, and was startled to see no more Polar Cap, no more expanse of white ice. Instead they were in a strange dark place. It was several seconds before he could adjust his eyes sufficiently to see that a wall was very close. It seemed to be moving backward and slightly upward. He knew then that they were descending somewhere at about a thirty degree angle. "When did this begin?" he asked, turning to Conley. "About twenty minutes ago. We must be a mile below the ice by now." So M'Tonak lay somewhere _beneath_ the Polar Cap! That was why men in ages past had been unable to find it, until it became a legend on a par with Earth's lost Atlantis! Jim tensed in his seat now as he thought of all the conflicting reports he had heard about M'Tonak; vague questions crossed his mind to which there were only vaguer answers. Now the passage through which they sped seemed to widen. Simultaneously they were in a sea of softly diffused, pale greenish light. This light increased as they went on, but did not become intense or glaring; rather it seemed to permeate the very atmosphere from some subtle, unknown source. Then, with breath-taking suddenness they burst out into a vast open place and looked upon the city of M'Tonak. M'Tonak lay in the center of a vast, shallow bowl several miles wide. In the first start of amazement Jim thought they must have somehow emerged again upon the planet's surface; but this thought was immediately discarded when he gazed across at the opposite horizon. It was concave rather than convex, which meant they were in a cavern of inconceivable dimensions. Far overhead he saw something vague and misty that must have been a roof. That soothing green light was everywhere but he still could not determine its source, it simply seemed to exist. Now they were gliding gently down into the city which consisted of low-structured, white-marble buildings of peculiar architecture. Wide, empty avenues stretched away in a perfect geometric pattern. "This city must be inconceivably old!" Conley gasped. "There's no other architecture like this anywhere on Mars!" Their car was slowing now. It came to rest in a wide circular plaza. The door slid smoothly, invitingly open. Jim glanced at the others who made no move to leave. He didn't blame them for not moving, for there was something strange and devilishly pre-arranged about all this. "End of the line!" he said with a jocularity he did not feel. He moved to the door and stepped out. Instantly he was aware of a strange difference. It might have been that alien green-tinged atmosphere, as if he had suddenly stepped into another dimension. Every fiber of his being now seemed to tingle in a peculiarly delightful way. It was very slight, scarcely felt, but there was no mistaking it. As the others stepped out Jim looked at them closely. They felt it too, he noticed--especially Kaarji. Kaarji's usually dark and expressionless face was now alight with a feverish excitement. They looked at the radiating streets about them. All were utterly empty, eerily silent. "Where in blazes," muttered Conley, "is the welcoming committee? We were brought here, but why? Surely the place isn't uninhabited!" "It isn't!" Jim said in that instant. "Look. Here comes your welcoming committee!" There was a peculiar note, almost a shrillness of disbelief in his voice. The others whirled, their combined gaze following his pointing finger across to the opposite side of the plaza. * * * * * Toward them slowly came a single lone figure. It was a Martian, of that there could be no doubt; but a Martian inconceivably old! He was stooped and withered, he leaned heavily on a stout cane, but he moved forward briskly for all of that. There was a certain purposefulness about him. He stopped before them, and leaned forward with both hands on top of his cane. His chin almost rested on his hands as he peered around at them. None of the men moved or spoke. Jim, who was nearest, was fascinated by that grayish leathery face criss-crossed with thousands of tiny lines, in which were set, like jewels, four unwinking black eyes incongruously bright and alert with cunning. There was an uncanny aura of evil about this bent little Martian, an evil made audible as he spoke: "There are only four of you--and one Martian. Strange, I thought there were more. But it is all right. Four Earthmen, intelligent Earthmen too. Earthmen are always welcome here." He pointedly ignored Kaarji and turned his eyes upon Jim. Then he chuckled, as though with secret glee. It was a dry metallic wheeze that reminded Jim of an empty rocket tube when the fuel is burned out. Jim was glad of the comfortable weight of his electro-pistol in his pocket. "My name is Jim Landor," he said. "Who are you, and why were we brought here? Did you have anything to do with it?" The old Martian gave a quirk of a smile as if faintly amused by Jim's impetuosity. But he answered the questions promptly and in order. "My name? It is Bhruulo. Here I am the Overseer--the Co-ordinator--call it what you will. As to why you were brought here, did you not seek M'Tonak, as have innumerable men in ages past? Now you have attained M'Tonak, and you should thank me. Yes, it was I who sent the surface car for you. I send it for all men who come far into the Polar Cap." "You still haven't explained why we were brought here." "That," Bhruulo said with a tinge of sarcasm, "I am sure you will learn from the others far better than you could from me." "Then there are _others_ here!" "Yes, there are others. You need not fear, you are free to come and go here as you please. I give you--M'Tonak! But you will excuse me now, I must leave you. I am sure you will find--the others." With that, the old Martian whirled upon his cane and hurried across the plaza in the direction whence he had come. * * * * * "Wait a minute, lad," Conley put out a restraining hand as Jim leaped forward. "Let him play his game for the time being. Let's see where his hangout is, so we can find him later." They watched as Bhruulo, without a backward glance, entered a columnaded building that was different from the others by reason of its imposing height. Jim nodded and decided to remember that building. "Now, Jim, let's find those others he speaks of. There are other Earthmen here, I'm convinced of it now." Conley had begun to lose his skepticism of M'Tonak--now that he had found it!--and his eyes were agleam with a growing excitement. But search as they would, they saw no other occupants. They traversed streets that were dead and empty and silent. That palely diffused greenish radiance was everywhere, coloring all with a ghostly brightness. For several hours they explored, wandering far from that central plaza. Kaarji stayed very close to Jim now, his original excitement having faded; indeed he seemed appalled, if not a little frightened, as he stared around in the abysmal stillness, and several times Jim noticed the Martian pass his hand in a puzzled manner across his brow. Wessel's mien brightened, as he watched the needle of his radite-finder gyrating wildly as if at any moment it would jump its bearings. "It must mean we're now in the very center of the main deposit!" he exclaimed. "If only we--" It was then they saw the figure of an Earthman emerge from a building hardly fifty yards away. He saw them at the same time. He turned quickly indoors again, and shouted something that sounded like: "New arrivals!" Then three other men emerged, and they all walked toward the little group of five. * * * * * "We're friendly," one of them said as they neared, and Jim's hand fell away from his weapon. "Because we have to be, here. Hmmm. When did _you_ arrive?" "A few hours ago." "Uh-huh. And you met the funny little man, I suppose?" "If you mean Bhruulo," Conley said with a grimace, "we sure did! Is he head man here?" "More about that later. My name's Spurlin. Ross, Fleming, Adams," he introduced the others. Jim was staring at the speaker, a huge man with a purposeful set to his unshaven jaw. "Then you're Gregg Spurlin, who headed the scientific expedition three years ago in the search for M'Tonak!" "And found it, as you can see. Found it too damn well. But we weren't the first. What about you?" Briefly, Jim told of their trek, and of his search for his brother. "What about him?" he said in imitation of Spurlin's own brusqueness. "Frank Landor. He should have arrived here weeks ago, unless--" He stopped there, looking from one to the other. The men were looking uncomfortably at each other. "No Frank Landor ever showed up here," Adams said. Fleming nodded agreement, a little too hurriedly, Jim thought, and none of the men would look directly at him. "They're lying to you," Spurlin said. "You might as well know the truth; but before I tell you about it let's get back inside, out of this green hell." He led the way back into the building whence they had emerged. But once inside they did not stop. The greenish radiance penetrated even there. They hurried over to a wide metal door that slid silently open when Spurlin pressed a hidden button. Revealed to their gaze was a dark narrow tunnel, leading downward. "What about the Martian?" Ross said, addressing Spurlin. "He goes along!" Jim snapped, and Kaarji looked at him gratefully. "All right," Spurlin murmured softly. "No harm if he comes. But I don't think he'll last long, no Martian ever does in this city." If Kaarji heard the words he did not show it, as he followed Jim into the tunnel. "About your brother," Spurlin spoke brusquely out of the darkness as they moved along. "Yes, he arrived here all right. For a while, Frank Landor was with our secret little group down here below. But--there's something about that greenish atmosphere, something exhilerating but also deadly, in a very subtle and insidious way. Sometimes it increases, penetrates even down to us, through walls and things. But there are some men who--" "Yes, I know," Jim's voice was as dead as the hope within him. "Frank was one of those men. He couldn't stay cooped up here. He was curious, he had to find out--things, and the reason for things. That what you're trying to tell me?" "That's about it. Like others who have come here he had to go up into the city, searching, trying to solve its secret. Every day he and a few others went up. Always they returned to us here, exhausted, until one day--they just didn't come back." In silence they continued along the winding passage. Jim was thinking of his brother now, with a dawning realization that he would probably never again see him alive. He was thinking of other things too. Of that menacing greenness in the city above. Of Spurlin who seemed so calloused and unconcerned. Of the legendary emerald of M'Tonak, the lure for countless men in ages past. * * * * * Spurlin's voice shattered the silence. "Here we are." Now he was flashing a tiny light upon a massive metal door. And Jim's heart leaped, for he saw it as a metal new, and yet not new to him. It was the same dull, greenish-gray metal as the piece Kaarji had given him. Jim passed his fingers lightly across it to make sure, but said
{'title': 'City of the Living Flame by Henry Hasse', 'source': 'Project Gutenberg', 'lang': 'en'}