Chapter 10

ZARLAH'S CONFESSION.

It was with a feeling of thankfulness that, upon opening my eyes, I found myself in the virator. The storm, which I had feared might prove disastrous, had been passed through safely, and now reigned the wonderful quiet of Mars. The strange uneasiness, which I had experienced upon my departure from Earth, was forgotten in the anticipation of the great joy before me, or I would have noticed that the usual calm, ever characteristic of Almos, was lacking.

It was already past the hour of my appointment with Zarlah, and, eager to be with her, I hastily made the necessary preparations for my return to Earth. Although these consisted merely of changing the current so that it would flow from the virator to Earth, and adjusting the clockwork for the hour of departure, I had decided upon the importance of doing this beforehand, as any mistake made in the haste of departure would prove fatal to either Almos or myself.

These preparations attended to, I now made my way to the balcony. I had relied upon Almos' knowledge to guide me to Zarlah, and, as I reached the open air, I at once felt his judgment assert itself. Two aerenoids were moored to the balcony, a large high-speed one of the submarine-boat type and a small open one. Into the latter I stepped, and, with a perfect knowledge of its operation, glided out upon the cool night air.

Gently rising to about three hundred feet, I lay suspended between the fairyland stretched beneath me and the brilliantly starred heavens. I was perfectly aware of the direction in which I was to go, but for a few moments I lay thus suspended, enjoying as could only an inhabitant of Earth, the strangeness and marvel of it all.

The little vessel had reached the limit of height to which it was designed to ascend and, upon realizing this, I became aware that, for safety, all aerenoids are limited to a certain height by the amount of repelling metal used in their construction. The high-speed aerenoids, owing to their build, being better adapted to withstand the atmospheric conditions at a great altitude, can ascend several thousand feet, but all are limited to what is considered a safe height for the class to which they belong. The action of the repelling metal being independent of the atmosphere, the danger of an aerenoid getting beyond control, and rising above the envelope of air which surrounds the planet is thus eliminated.

As these thoughts came into my mind, I glanced up into the heavens with its countless stars--one being the world from which I came--when lo! a remarkable phenomenon met my gaze. In the west hung a crescent moon, somewhat smaller than Earth's moon, but extremely brilliant, while out of the east rose another moon at its full. So rapidly did this latter moon rise, that its journey through the heavens was perceptible, and it was evident that within an hour it would sink into the western horizon, having gradually changed its phase to a crescent. In seven hours it would encircle Mars, and again appear above the eastern horizon.

My interest in this moon was intensified when I realized that it was but a few thousand miles distant, and so small, that it would require but a couple of days' comfortable walking to encircle it. Compared with my journey from Earth, this few thousand miles seemed but an insignificant distance, and I immediately thought of the possibility of reaching it in a high-speed aerenoid to which a sufficient amount of the repelling metal was attached to overcome the gravity of Mars. But I instantly was aware of the fact that an attempt to reach this moon had been made many years previously, and that the intrepid Martians who undertook the hazardous journey, never returned. Although their aerenoid carried enough oxygen to supply them for many days after they had left the atmosphere of Mars, it was decided later that they had been lost in space, unable either to reach the moon or return to Mars. The gravity of so small a body would be insufficient to draw them to it, unless they traveled straight in its direction, and, as the moon was moving rapidly around Mars, the chances of this were admittedly small. Moreover, once out of the atmosphere of Mars, it would be impossible to propel the aerenoid, and, having missed the moon, they would travel on and on through endless space. Had they reached the moon they could have returned, as the repelling force on a body with so little gravity, would be greatly increased, and would have hurled them into the gravity of Mars again, as soon as they exposed the repelling metal. There could be no doubt that they had never reached the moon, and their terrible fate resulted in a safe limitation of this dangerous metal upon all aerenoids.

So absorbed had I become in these intensely interesting details supplied by Almos' knowledge, that time had passed without my realizing it, and, reproaching myself for having wasted the valuable moments I might have spent with Zarlah, I now moved the lever at my side and glided gently forward.

The moon, however, as it rapidly journeyed across the heavens, seemed to hold a strange fascination for me, and my gaze constantly reverted to it. Had I realized that this fascination was caused by the approach of a terrible danger, I might have paid heed to the warning, but desirous now to get to my journey's end, which, according to Earth's proverb, should end in a lover's meeting, I thought only of the time I had lost, and impatiently put the subject from my mind.

Moreover, as my meeting with Zarlah drew near, thoughts that were relevant and of a more serious character filled my mind. My present visit to her now began to appear most unjustifiable. If I had found excuse for my action of the previous evening, in the enthusiasm of so suddenly beholding the object of my adoration, unaccustomed as I was to my strange position, I had no such excuse now. To appear before her again as Almos, after having seen my folly and realized the deceit of my position toward her, would be an act of shameful duplicity. I had not realized this before, for I had thought only of my great love for her and the joy of again being with her, but now the crushing force with which the truth presented itself, caused me to hesitate before taking another step that I now felt would be impossible to justify before Almos. In this great uncertainty of mind I glided slowly along.

The wonderful stillness of the night was broken only by the faint hum of voices and merry laughter that reached me from below. Glancing down, I observed numerous open aerenoids floating some two hundred feet beneath me, while now and then those of the high-speed class appeared, slowly wending their way toward the canals, to fly to different parts of the globe. But although I was aware that for convenience of landing it was customary to travel just high enough to escape the buildings, I continued on at my present elevation, as I felt the need of deep and earnest thought, which I realized would be impossible amid the gay throng nearer the surface.

As the highest speed attainable by open aerenoids, which were used mainly for pleasure, was but eight miles an hour, my journey of five miles gave me ample time for meditation; and when I at last alighted on the balcony of a small white marble villa, to which I had instinctively guided my aerenoid, I had fully determined upon what I felt to be the only honorable course to pursue. This was to confide all in Zarlah, and, no matter at what cost, to reveal to her the strange conditions that hid the identity of a being from another world behind that of her friend Almos.

Having secured my aerenoid, I stood on the balcony, entranced at the beauty of the scene before me, which lay bathed in a wonderful starlight--far more brilliant than the light of the full moon upon Earth--shed by a myriad of blazing gems in a sky that knew no clouds. A perfect stillness reigned, save for the rippling laughter of a little stream, that wended its way through an avenue of trees to a lake of glistening silver, a short distance beyond.

"What happiness would be mine in such a paradise, with Zarlah for my own!" I thought, and a great anguish filled my heart, as I realized the impossibility of it--and now for the first time I also realized the impossibility of life without Zarlah. A sudden dread of meeting the one I loved came upon me--a dread of seeing the light of love in her eyes, even for an instant, knowing that it was not for me. I felt I could not bear to behold the look of tenderness in her beautiful face change to one of hatred, upon learning how she had been deceived; and in my agony of spirit, I cried in a voice of deep emotion:

"Ah, Zarlah! I have won you, yet you are not mine! You have loved me, yet I am not loved!"

"I am yours, and I love you, Harold," softly protested a voice at my side.

With a start I turned and beheld Zarlah, and for a moment I stood as if gazing at an apparition.

Realizing my bewilderment, she laid her hand gently upon my arm, and in a low voice, full of compassion, said: "It is Harold Lonsdale whom I love!"

In a delirium of ecstasy I caught the small white hand and pressed it to my lips. Passing my arm about her I drew her tenderly toward me, gazing down into her beautiful eyes where lay a world of tenderness and love. My heart was too full for words--it was all too wonderful to understand; enough that I knew Zarlah to be wholly mine, and in those few silent moments of absolute happiness and contentment, the little stream's merry laughter seemed to swell into the great joyous chorus of all creation, behind which is the great love principle.

Together we left the balcony and walked beneath the giant trees toward the lake, Zarlah relating to me how, through an instrument she possessed, which transmitted and received thought-waves, she had not only learned of Almos' communication with Earth, but had descried a mental picture of the inhabitant of that distant world with whom he had spoken.

On the evening of my first communication with Mars, Zarlah was testing this instrument on Almos' mind, when, to her great astonishment, she came into thought communication with Earth. As this was the first trial of the instrument, Almos himself was unaware of the success that had crowned Zarlah's invention, though he had taken much interest in it, and had on several occasions given his advice during its construction. Although this instrument was only capable of transmitting and receiving thought-waves over a few miles, it was evident that through the medium of Almos' mind, which was in communication with mine, the thought-waves were conveyed to Earth by the super-radium current.

Zarlah had thus learned of my proposed visit to Mars, but had not known when the attempt was to be made, until, seeing Almos in evident distress at the recital of the lumaharp, she had feared that the attempt had proved disastrous. When, however, I evinced my astonishment at seeing her, she knew instantly that before her stood the personality of the man from distant Earth, who had been projected to her in mental pictures, and who was called Harold Lonsdale. When I spoke to her of my love, she realized that her image had also been projected to my mind, and, as she listened to my impassioned words, she recognized in them the thoughts of love that had accompanied the projection of my image. Indeed, my every thought of Zarlah, during wave contact, had been projected to her through the medium of this remarkable instrument.

With a keen desire to see and examine the mechanism, by which thoughts could be transferred over millions of miles, I said: "But where is this wonderful instrument of which you speak, Zarlah?"

We had reached the lake, and now stood on the bank overlooking its glistening surface.

A tremor ran through her slight form as she drew closer to me, and said imploringly: "You must not ask to see it! Oh, Harold! Do you not realize the grief this instrument has brought into our lives? Have you partaken of the sweetness so deeply, that you fail to perceive the bitterness that lies beneath? You can be but a beloved memory to me--the memory of a lover millions of miles away--but we are separated by that which is far greater than distance!"

Her voice died away in a sob, and, as I drew her gently toward me, she wept bitterly. Thus had I of Earth brought tears into a world that had not known sorrow for hundreds of years.

"But, dearest," I argued, tenderly smoothing back the soft brown hair, and striving to cheer her, "we are now commencing on an era of planet communication, and it may not be long before a means is discovered of actually transferring people from one planet to another. Did not explorers, some years ago, have this in mind, when they attempted to reach the nearest moon? And even though they failed to reach their goal, who knows that they were not drawn to some planet that was in opposition at that time, and are now prepared for a return journey at the next opposition? With the complete absence of resistance there is in space, their speed would become terrific--thousands of miles a minute--and at such a rate it would be possible to reach a planet in opposition, long before their month's supply of oxygen became exhausted. Heat would not be generated as there would be no friction until the planet's atmosphere was reached, but long before this they would have applied their repelling force, which would reduce their speed, thus enabling them to sail gently through the atmosphere and alight safely on the planet's surface."

Although I had not as much confidence in such an achievement as I sought to inspire (well knowing the vast difference between a spiritual transfer and a material one over such a tremendous distance), I wished, above all, to cheer Zarlah. Indeed, I feared that grief might bring the most serious consequences on Mars. I was greatly relieved, therefore, upon observing her countenance light up with a sudden interest, as I expressed these sanguine predictions as to the future.

It was not until some hours later, when I was alone, that this incident caused me much anxiety, as I remembered that, in spite of the keen interest Zarlah had evinced, she had carefully avoided any allusion to the subject afterwards. But in the subsequent events of the evening this escaped my notice, and, glad to observe the soothing effect my words had upon her, I did not pursue the thought further.

We had descended by a flight of stone steps to the water's edge, and, as we stepped upon the narrow strip of pebbly beach, walled in by cavernous rocks, Zarlah, with great earnestness, exclaimed: "You are right, dear Harold, we must be hopeful, and not waste the few precious moments we have together in regrets that are useless. We shall always love each other, and if we are brave--even unto death--Love will find a way!"

Poor Zarlah! Little did I imagine the desperate plan that was already forming in her mind when she uttered these words, that before the close of another day would indeed have proved her "brave even unto death."

Drawing closer to me and turning her beautiful face up to mine, she said, after a pause, in which she seemed to read my very soul: "Before me lies a duty, Harold, which with you at my side I have the strength to perform, but without you the sacrifice is too great."

"What is it, dearest?" I asked, pressing the little hand I held to my lips.

"It is to destroy the wicked instrument of which I have told you. I had not the courage to do this before, as I feared for your safety in returning to Earth, and to have destroyed it then would have left me in fearful suspense. But now I must put away, forever, this awful thing that possesses the power to reveal the thoughts of my fellow beings, that its mechanism may never become known and thus prove an eternal curse to the world."

With these words, Zarlah disappeared for a moment in the gloom of a cave nearby, and, returning with a small metal box, said in a voice which betrayed great emotion: "Take it, Harold, and hurl it far out into the waters of the lake, where it will sink forever from sight!"

The earnestness with which Zarlah had spoken of this device, proved how deeply its existence troubled her conscience, and restrained me from making any attempt to persuade her from thus severing a connecting strand between two hearts so widely separated. I therefore took the box and, with all my strength, hurled it far out into the lake, where it sank to remain a secret for all time.

Swiftly flew those precious moments in which Fate had destined that two hearts from separate worlds should taste of each other's love, and then--what? Alone in our great love we drank deeply the cup of happiness, and the hour of parting, ever drawing nearer, seemed but a cloud on the horizon. At last, yielding to necessity, we retraced our steps, leaving the scene of our joyous love behind, and the dread of parting filled our hearts and stifled our words of happiness.

Strange to say, as I stood in that other world, there surged through my alien mind some lines of Clinton Scollard's, which I had once learned, little dreaming of their significance:

"Lo, it has come, the inevitable hour When thou and I, beloved one, must part; When heart be sundered from caressing heart, And ungloomed skies be turned to dreary gray."

A silence fell upon us, both dreading to put into words the thoughts we knew must be spoken. Then, as our hearts beat audibly in the sacred stillness of night that had fallen about us, Zarlah murmured, clinging to me in despair, "Oh, Harold, my love, how can we bear the agony of being parted!"

"I would give my life to remain with you, dearest!" I answered, pressing her passionately to me, but in a more soothing tone I added,

"We must be brave, love, it is but for a day--to-morrow I shall return, but before my departure from Earth I will speak with Almos, and tell him that I wish to abandon my body forever and to abide in spirit on Mars. In a virator constructed with two upper chambers, my spirit could be retained indefinitely, and I would then see you daily through the medium of Almos. To-morrow, dearest, I shall return to you with good news."

"Ah! Harold, you do not see the impossibility of such a thing--you cannot behold it through a woman's eyes. No, no! I can never see Almos again! I gave my love to you through his medium, and to see him when you were absent would be greater agony than I could bear. I must go with you, Harold, to the world in which you live, where I can have you always."

With words of love and assurance I tried to comfort the brave little heart that beat so loyally for me, and, fearing to leave her in this unhappy condition, I lingered until barely time remained in which to reach the observatory before Paris would pass out of wave contact. Explaining this to Zarlah, we hurried to the villa, and, as we ascended the steps to the balcony, I beheld a large high-speed aerenoid resting a short distance from mine. This, Zarlah begged me to take, explaining that by rising a few hundred feet above the elevation of small aerenoids, I could safely exceed the customary speed of local traffic. She explained that her brother had just returned in it from the north, where he had spent the day in the enjoyment of winter pastimes.

My heart was too full of the sorrow of parting to be aroused to enthusiasm at even such a wonder as this, and, realizing that I would be unaccustomed to an aerenoid that was strange to Almos, I decided to trust to the smaller one reaching the observatory in time. But not a moment was to be lost, and, begging Zarlah to be courageous until my return the following evening, I pressed her to my heart in a last fond embrace.

Oh! the agony of that moment, as I felt the slender form in my arms convulsed with sobs, while I, struggling frantically with the emotions that tore my heart, whispered words of passionate love; and as at last I rose in the night air, condemned by Fate to journey millions of miles from her I adored, my soul cried out in its anguish:

"'Ah, Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire, Would not we shatter it to bits--and then Re-mould it nearer to our Heart's Desire?'"