Minds far in the future, Tony always felt, though he knew that the Other People actually pertained to the epochal past; but though they had lived a million years ago, yet they had passed beyond the people of earth before they came to gaze on the dawn of their day of extinction. So, strangely, Tony knew he was living in an apartment of the past, but felt it to be like one of the future. Time had become completely confusing.
What were years? What had they been? A year had been the measure of an interval in which the earth circled the sun. But the earth, except in fragments, no longer went around the sun. This planet had taken its place; and earthly time ceased to have significance. You lived in the time of this strange planet; its eons and epochs were behind you; and the incalculable accomplishments of its people.
The soft illumination of interiors, to which he had now become accustomed, glowed in the hallway. It was agreeable, soothing, never harsh; and the soft pastel colors of the walls showed patterns pleasing to the eyes, though they were eyes from earth, and earth never had seen anything similar.
Taste, thought Tony, reached through the universe; and beauty; and happiness—and peace. And cruelty also? When had these Other People been cruel? Had they cast it off only at last?
He was very tired, but excited too; he was glad to find Eve alone, awaiting him.
He kissed her, and held her, and for a moment let himself forget all else but the softness of her in his arms, and the warmth of her lips on his.
“Lord of my love,” she whispered, in her own ecstasy. “Lord of my love,” she repeated; and holding him, went on:
“To whom in vassalage,
Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit.”
“Oh,” said Tony.
“I memorized it as a child, Tony, never guessing at its meaning till now. How could Shakespeare have found words, dear, for so many feelings? … This place was planned for love, Tony.”
“Yes.”
“They loved here, Tony; some couple very young—a million years ago. We lie on their couch.… Where are they?”
“Where we, sometime, shall probably be; but why think of that? ‘From fairest creatures’—finish that for me, Eve, can you?”
“The first sonnet, you mean?”
“I don’t know the number; but I knew it once—at Groton. I had to learn it to get into Harvard for the college board examinations. Wait: I’ve got more of it:
‘From fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty’s rose might never die.’
“W
here are Harvard, and Groton, now, Tony?”
“With Nineveh and Tyre; but you’re here—and beauty’s rose shall never die.… And by God, no one will take you from me—or freeze you in the cold, if I don’t let you go.”
“You’ve the diagram that Von Beitz brought?”
“I’ve seen it—studied it. He did well; but not enough. We know now where is the great central power-station; but we don’t know how to get to it. We don’t know even how they get in and out of this city.”
“You think they still do?”
“We can’t say that they don’t. Undoubtedly Von Beitz was right; he was taken out by way of some conduit. We’ll have to find that first, and stop it up or guard it; and then there may be a dozen underground doors leading anywhere, for purposes we’ve not progressed enough to guess. We’ve got to catch up on the old records of this place—though it’s plain that some of them have been removed by the men who captured Von Beitz. Yet we’ve an awful lot to learn that we can learn.”
“Tony, it’s perfectly fascinating—and terrible, some of it. I met Professor Philbin when I was coming here. I never saw him so excited. He didn’t know anything about what had just happened; he didn’t even know that Von Beitz had returned. When I told him, he only stared at me; he wondered why I’d mentioned it. He was living in something far more exciting. He’d found the record, Tony, of the Other People when they first discovered the star of their doom approaching! He was looking for you; he wants to report to you what happened here, Tony, a million years ago!”
But Tony not yet could leave her. “If it’s waited a million years, it can wait,” he said, “ten minutes more.”
CHAPTER XVII
AT THE MERCY OF THE MIDIANITES
TONY found Philbin with Duquesne, to whom the linguist had brought his version of the records he had decoded.