Chapter XI: The Discovery at the Martian Observatory

Although I well knew the fatal consequences of arriving at the observatory too late, and realized that in this slow travelling aerenoid my chances of covering the five miles in time were but slight, so depressed and desperate was I that I gave the matter little thought. Indeed, my mind was entirely occupied with thoughts of Zarlah. Vainly did I search Almos’ scientific knowledge for a means of transportation over millions of miles of space. All my theories led to but one conclusion--that no material transit over such an enormous distance was possible. My heart sank within me as I thought how brief my happiness had been. But then came the bewildering realization that an eternity of loneliness would not be too much to pay for the unutterable joy which nothing could take from me. Raised aloft to the highest pinnacle of happiness, I had been permitted to experience the joy of Zarlah’s love--a love that I had thought was for Almos--only to be dashed down into still deeper despair. Then a great anguish filled my heart as I realized that before I was alone in my misery, which, through a thoughtless action, I had brought upon myself, but now my agony was shared by a loving and trusting heart that had been joined to mine by the decree of Fate.

The thought of the unhappiness I had brought into Zarlah’s life maddened me, and when at last the aerenoid rested upon the balcony of the observatory, I stepped out, caring little whether wave contact had ceased or not. I would enter the virator in any case, and at once fulfil my obligation to Almos, through whose generosity I had been permitted to visit this veritable paradise. Then, if wave contact with Paris still existed my spirit would return to my body which lay there, but if not, I felt that Fate would have thus solved the hopeless tangle into which it had precipitated me.

As I proceeded across the balcony, I was astonished to observe a high-speed aerenoid lying close to the one I knew belonged to Almos. What could it mean! That a visitor would enter the observatory knowing Almos to be absent, I could not conceive, as I was well aware of the sanctity of a dwelling in the Martian mind, especially when that dwelling was the theatre of such experiments and observations as the observatory conducted by Almos.

Greatly perturbed I turned and entered the building, and, with all haste, proceeded down the corridor. As I reached the portières of the large room, the sound of someone within moving about caused my heart to beat wildly, and, thrusting aside the curtains, I beheld Reon.

For a moment I was mute with astonishment, then, as he smilingly advanced with extended hand, I knew instantly that he was present at Almos’ request. Without further time for thought, I grasped his hand and greeted him cordially, realizing that no matter what the object of his visit was, it was known to Almos, and under no circumstances must I appear surprised. Without waiting to be questioned, Reon offered me a slip of paper on which I observed Almos’ handwriting.

“I carefully followed your instructions, Almos, regarding the virator, and, half an hour later, I turned off the current of super-radium. I was just preparing to leave. You are late in returning, are you not?”

While Reon thus spoke, I had gained time to glance hastily over the instructions that Almos had written upon the slip of paper which I held in my hand, and I now replied, with every nerve strung in an effort to appear calm:

“I am, Reon, a whole hour late, and very sorry, indeed, to have kept you waiting so long. But now, my good fellow, you must be off; I will not detain you a moment longer than it takes to thank you for your kindness from the bottom of my heart.”

So saying, I shook his hand warmly, and accompanying him to the balcony, waved him adieu.

The gratitude which I had thus expressed to Reon, was by no means mere acting. My hasty glance at the instructions had convinced me that he had been the means of saving my life. Without noticing the hour mentioned, I had just time enough, while Reon was speaking, to note that he was instructed to turn on the current from the upper chamber of the virator, and, half an hour later, to shut off the super-radium current. I felt that Almos had in this way prepared to save my life, in case I arrived at the observatory too late to return to Earth. With wonderful forethought--perhaps even a premonition of my late return--he had requested Reon to visit the observatory and instructed him what to do at a certain time, with the result that Almos’ spirit had been transferred to my body in Paris, before it was lost forever by passing out of wave contact.