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CHAPTER 26

THE ABDUCTION

When the Very Young Man left them so unceremoniously the Chemist and his companions continued on their way home, talking earnestly over the serious turn affairs had taken. Of the three, the Big Business Man appeared the most perturbed.

“Lylda isn’t going to accomplish anything,” he said. “It won’t work. The thing has gone too far. It isn’t politics any longer; it’s a struggle against us—a hatred and fear of our supernatural powers.”

“If we had never come—” began the Doctor.

“It probably would have worked out all right,” finished the Big Business Man. “But since we’re here—”

“We could leave,” the Doctor suggested.

“It has gone too far; I agree with you,” the Chemist said. “Your going would not help. They would never believe I did not still possess the magic. And now, without the drugs I might not be able to cope with affairs. It is a very serious situation.”

“And getting worse all the time,” added the Big Business Man.

When they arrived at the Chemist’s home Loto did not run out to meet them as the Chemist expected. They called his name, but there was no answer. Inside the house they perceived at once that something was wrong. The living-room was in disorder; some of the pieces of furniture had been overturned, and many of the smaller articles were scattered about the floor. Even the wall-hangings had been torn down.

In sudden fear the Chemist ran through the building, calling to Loto. Everywhere he saw evidence of intruders, who had ransacked the rooms, as though making a hasty search. In one of the rooms, crouched on the floor, he came upon Eena, Lylda’s little serving-maid. The girl was stricken dumb with terror. At the sight of her master she sobbed with relief, and after a few moments told him what had happened.

When the Chemist rejoined his friends in the lower room his face was set and white. The girl followed him closely, evidently afraid to be left alone. The Chemist spoke quietly, controlling his emotion with obvious difficulty.

“Loto has been stolen!” he said. “Targo and four of his men were here soon after we left. Eena saw them and hid. They searched the house—”

“For the drugs,” muttered the Doctor under his breath.

“—and then left, taking Loto with them.”

“Which way did they go?” asked the Big Business Man. “Good God, what a thing!”

“They went by water, in a large boat that was waiting for them here,” answered the Chemist.

“How long ago?” asked the Doctor quickly. “We have not been gone very long.”

“An hour probably, not much more.” Eena said something to her master and began to cry softly.

“She says they left a little while ago. Three of the men took Loto away in the boat. She watched them from the window upstairs.”

“Targo aliá,” said the girl.

“One of the men was Targo,” said the Chemist. He went to one of the windows overlooking the lake; the Doctor stood beside him. There was no boat in sight.

“They cannot have got very far,” said the Doctor. “Those islands there—”

“They would take him to Orlog,” said the Chemist. “About fifty miles.”

The Doctor turned back to the room. “We can get them. You forget—these drugs—the power they give us. Oh, Will.” He called the Big Business Man over to them; he spoke hurriedly, with growing excitement. “What do you think, Will? That boat—they’ve got Loto—it can’t be very far. We can make ourselves so large in half an hour we can wade all over the lake. We can get it. What do you think?”

The Chemist dropped into a chair with his head in his hands. “Let me think—just a moment, Frank. I know the power we have; I know we can do almost anything. That little boy of mine—they’ve got him. Let me think—just a moment.”

He sat motionless. The Doctor continued talking in a lower tone to the Big Business Man by the window. In the doorway Oteo stood like a statue, motionless, except for his big, soft eyes that roved unceasingly over the scene before him. After a moment Eena ceased her sobbing and knelt beside the Chemist, looking up at him sorrowfully.

“I cannot believe,” said the Chemist finally, raising his head, “that the safest way to rescue Loto is by the plan you have suggested.” He spoke with his usual calm, judicial manner, having regained control of himself completely. “I understand now, thoroughly, and for the first time, the situation we are facing. It is, as you say, a political issue no longer. Targo and his closest followers have convinced a very large proportion of our entire nation, I am certain, that myself, and my family, and you, the strangers, are possessed of a diabolical power that must be annihilated. Targo will never rest until he has the drugs. That is why he searched this house.

“He has abducted Loto for the same purpose. He will—not hurt Loto—I am convinced of that. Probably he will send someone tomorrow to demand the drugs as the price of Loto’s life. But don’t you understand? Targo and his advisers, and even the most ignorant of the people, realize what power we have. Lylda showed them that when she flung Targo’s brother out into the lake today. But we cannot use this power openly. For, while it makes us invincible, it makes them correspondingly desperate. They are a peculiar people. Throughout the whole history of the race they have been kindly, thoughtless children. Now they are aroused. The pendulum has swung to the other extreme. They care little for their lives. They are still children—children who will go to their death unreasoning, fighting against invincibility.

“That is something we must never overlook, for it is a fact. We cannot run amuck as giants over this world and hope to conquer it. We could conquer it, yes; but only when the last of its inhabitants had been killed; stamped out like ants defending their hill from the attacks of an elephant. Don’t you see I am right?”

“Then Lylda—” began the Doctor, as the Chemist paused.

“Lylda will fail. Her venture today will make matters immeasurably worse.”

“You’re right,” agreed the Big Business Man. “We should have realized.”

“So you see we cannot make ourselves large and recapture Loto by force. They would anticipate us and kill him.”

“Then what shall we do?” demanded the Doctor. “We must do something.”

“That we must decide carefully, for we must make no more mistakes. But we can do nothing at this moment. The lives of all of us are threatened. We must not allow ourselves to become separated. We must wait here for Lylda. Reoh and Aura must stay with us. Then we can decide how to rescue Loto and what to do after that. But we must keep together.”

“Jack ought to be here by now,” said the Big Business Man. “I hope Reoh and Aura come with him.”

For over an hour they waited, and still the Very Young Man did not come. They had just decided to send Oteo to see what had become of him and to bring down Reoh and his daughter, when Lylda unexpectedly returned. It was Eena, standing at one of the side windows, who first saw her mistress. A cry from the girl brought them all to the window. Far away beyond the city they could see the gigantic figure of Lylda, towering several hundred feet in the air.

As she came closer she seemed to stop, near the outskirts of the city, and then they saw her dwindling in size until she disappeared, hidden from their view by the houses near at hand.

In perhaps half an hour more she reappeared, picking her way carefully down the deserted street towards them. She was at this time about forty feet tall. At the corner, a hundred yards away from them a little group of people ran out, and, with shouts of anger, threw something at her as she passed.

She stooped down towards them, and immediately they scurried for safety out of her reach.

Once inside of her own garden, where the Chemist and his companions were waiting, Lylda lost no time in becoming her normal size again. As she grew smaller, she sat down with her back against a little tree. Her face was white and drawn; her eyes were full of tears as she looked at her husband and his friends.

When the drug had ceased to act, the Chemist sat beside her. She had started out only a few hours before a crusader, dominant, forceful; she came back now, a tired, discouraged little woman. The Chemist put his arm around her protectingly, drawing her drooping body towards him. “Very bad news, Lylda, we know,” he said gently.

“Oh, my husband,” she cried brokenly. “So sorry I am—so very sorry. The best I knew I did. And it was all so very bad—so very bad—” she broke off abruptly, looking at him with her great, sorrowful eyes.

“Tell us Lylda,” he said softly.

“To many cities I went,” she answered. “And I told the people all I meant to say. Some of them believed. But they were not many, and of the others who did not believe, they were afraid, and so kept they silent. Then into Orlog I went, and in the public square I spoke—for very long, because, for some reason I know not, at first they listened.

“But no one there believed. And then, my husband, at last I knew why I could not hope to gain my way. It is not because they want Targo’s rule that they oppose us. It was, but it is so no longer. It is because they have been made to fear these drugs we have. For now, in Orlog, they are shouting death to all the giants. Forgotten are all their cries for land—the things that Targo promised, and we in Arite would not give. It is death to all the giants they are shouting now: death to you, to me, to us all, because we have these drugs.”

“Did they attack you?” asked the Big Business Man.

“Many things they threw,” Lylda answered. “But I was so big,” she smiled a little sad, twisted smile. “What they could do was as nothing. And because of that they fear and hate us so; yet never have I seen such fearless things as those they did. Death to the giants was their only cry. And I could have killed them—hundreds, thousands—yet never could I have made them stop while yet they were alive.

“I told them Targo I would free. And in Orlog they laughed. For they said that he would free himself before I had returned.”

“He did,” muttered the Big Business Man.

“Targo escaped this afternoon,” the Chemist explained. “He went to Orlog by boat and took—” He stopped abruptly. “Come into the house, Lylda,” he added gently; “there are other things, my wife, of which we must speak.” He rose to his feet, pulling her up with him.

“Where is Jack,” she asked, looking at the Big Business Man, who stood watching her gravely. “And where is Loto? Does he not want to see his mother who tried so—” She put her arms around the Chemist’s neck. “So very hard I tried,” she finished softly. “So very hard, because—I thought—”

The Chemist led her gently into the house. The Doctor started to follow, but the Big Business Man held him back. “It is better not,” he said in an undertone, “don’t you think?” Oteo was standing near them, and the Big Business Man motioned to him. “Besides,” he added, “I’m worried about Jack. I think we ought to go up after him. I don’t think it ought to take us very long.”

“With Oteo—he knows the way,” agreed the Doctor. “It’s devilish strange what’s keeping that boy.”

They found that although Oteo spoke only a few words of English, he understood nearly everything they said, and waiting only a moment more, they started up into the city towards Reoh’s home.

In the living-room of the house, the Chemist sat Lylda gently down on a cushion in front of the hearth. Sitting beside her, he laid his hand on hers that rested on her knee.

“For twelve years, Lylda, we have lived together,” he began slowly. “And no sorrow has come to us; no danger has threatened us or those we loved.” He met his wife’s questioning gaze unflinchingly and went on:

“You have proved yourself a wonderful woman, my wife. You never knew—nor those before you—the conflict of human passions. No danger before has ever threatened you or those you loved.” He saw her eyes grow wider.

“Very strange you talk, my husband. There is something—”

“There is something, Lylda. Today you have seen strife, anger, hate and—and death. You have met them all calmly; you have fought them all justly, like a woman—a brave, honest Oroid woman, who can wrong no one. There is something now that I must tell you.” He saw the growing fear in her eyes and hurried on.

“Loto, today—this afternoon—”

The woman gave a little, low cry of anguish, instantly repressed. Her hand gripped his tightly.

“No, no, Lylda, not that,” he said quickly, “but this afternoon while we were all away—Loto was here alone with Eena—Targo with his men came. They did not hurt Loto; they took him away in a boat to Orlog.” He stopped abruptly. Lylda’s eyes never left his face. Her breath came fast; she put a hand to her mouth and stifled the cry that rose to her lips.

“They will not hurt him, Lylda; that I know. And soon we will have him back.”

For a moment more her searching eyes stared steadily into his. He heard the whispered words, “My little son—with Targo,” come slowly from her lips; then with a low, sobbing cry she dropped senseless into his arms.