Chapter I: Out of Their Minds

“Remember, now; don’t make a sound, no matter what you see!”

Mrs. Kinney eyed her caller anxiously as they came to a pause in front of the door. His glance widened at her caution, but he nodded briefly. She turned the key in the lock.

Next second the two stepped softly into the room. Mrs. Kinney carefully closed and locked the door behind them; and meanwhile the man, peering closely into the shadows of the place, made out a scene of such strangeness that he nearly forgot the woman’s injunction.

The room was the private study of Dr. William Kinney. In itself, it was not at all out of the ordinary. Shelves of books, cases of surgical and psychological instruments, star charts, maps and astronomical apparatus--these told at once both the man’s vocation and avocation. With these contents and rather severe furnishings the room was merely interesting, not remarkable.

But its four chairs certainly were. Each of them was occupied by a human being; and as Mrs. Kinney and her caller entered, neither of the four so much as stirred. They were all asleep.

In the nearest chair was the doctor himself, half sitting and half reclining; in fact, all four of the sleepers were in attitudes of complete relaxation. The doctor’s gray head was resting on one shoulder wearily.

On his left was a man of medium height and commonplace countenance. “Mr. Smith,” whispered Mrs. Kinney, placing her mouth close to the caller’s ear, so that he might hear the better.

Opposite these two sat a man and a woman, their chairs placed close together. The one was a slender, well-dressed, boyishly good looking young woman of perhaps thirty; the other a large, aggressively handsome fellow possibly five years older. “Mr. and Mrs. Van Emmon,” explained Mrs. Kinney, still in a whisper.

The four sat absolutely motionless; the caller, looking very closely, could hardly make out the rising and falling of their chests as they breathed. Also, he saw that they were all connected, the one with the other by means of insulated wires which ran to brass bracelets around their wrists. At one point in this curious circuit, a wire ran to a small group of electrical appliances placed on a pedestal at the doctor’s side; while the caller was still further puzzled to note that each of the sleepers was resting his or her feet on a stool, the legs of which, like the legs of each chair, were tipped with glass.

After a minute of this the caller turned upon Mrs. Kinney in such complete bewilderment that she instantly unlocked the door, and again cautioning perfect silence, led the way into the corridor. Here she again locked the door. Upon leaving the spot, a quiet young man with keen gray eyes stepped from a room opposite, and at a nod from Mrs. Kinney proceeded to do sentry duty outside the study.

Once down-stairs and safely within the living-room--

“This is rather mean of you Mrs. Kinney!” protested the man. “Tell me all about it, quick!”

The lady complacently took a chair. “Well,” she remarked innocently, “I knew you’d want to see him.”

“Yes, but--”

“It serves you right,” she went on blithely, “for staying away so long. Let’s see--you left a year ago June, didn’t you, Mr. Hill?”

He swallowed something and managed to reply, “Great guns, yes! I’ve been in the wilds of New Guinea for a year--without news of any kind! I saw my first newspaper on board the dirigible this morning!”

“Ah, well,” commented Mrs. Kinney provokingly, “you’ll have to be humored, I suppose.” She cogitated unnecessarily long, then left the room to get a folio of newspapers and magazines. One of these she selected with great deliberation, and opened it at the leading article. Even then she would not hand it over right away. “You remember that sky-car idea of the doctor’s, don’t you?”

“His machine to explore space? He couldn’t talk of anything else when I--you don’t mean to say”--incredulously--”that he made a success of that!”

“He certainly did. Took a three weeks’ tour of the planets, month before last!”

Hill stared in amazement, then leaned forward suddenly and whisked the magazine out of Mrs. Kinney’s fingers. He held the paper with hands that trembled in excitement; and this is what he read, in the matter-of-fact black-and-white of The Scientific New Zealander: