The Greatest Sci-Fi Books of Erle Cox. Erle Cox
You needn't look unless you like, but you must be here in case I want anything." As he spoke he filled the syringe with the emerald-coloured fluid, and handed it to Dundas. "Now, hold that, and the moment I ask for it, put into my hand." Then he turned and knelt beside the couch, taking the glittering lancet from the table as he did so.
Alan turned his eyes away, staring fixedly at the curtained entrance, and tried to engage his thoughts by tracing the intricacies of its pattern. So tense was the silence that he could plainly hear his own heart beat. "Now, Dun! The syringe!" came Barry's sharp voice, and Alan placed it in the outstretched hand. There was another space of silence, and then Dick rose to his feet. "Exact time, Alan?" he asked. "Four-ten," answered Dundas, placing his watch on the table.
"Well, so far so good. Now we will have to wait until five twenty-five before the next. Old man, it's going to be a mighty long hour and a quarter." Alan moved restlessly. "There's no reason why you shouldn't look if you wish, old chap; I've covered the mark with a piece of dressing."
Dundas stood beside the couch, his soul in his eyes as he looked down.. There was a dull feeling of surprise that as yet no change showed on the calm face on the cushions. Barry read the meaning of his look. "Don't he disappointed; I don't expect any alteration until after the next injection," he said reassuringly. "I think we might reconcile ourselves to that!" Then after a tentative test with the stethoscope, he went on: "Do you know, Alan, there was not the slightest trace of haemorrhage? It's a fact that may not appeal to you as a layman, but it fairly ties my existing ideas in a knot."
"The details don't worry me much, Dick," answered Dundas. "The key to everything lies in the result of your work. I wish to God we knew for certain how it will turn out. The strain hurts." He sank into a seat near by, and drummed nervously with his fingers. Barry, to distract his thoughts, began questioning him about his adventures from the beginning. He had time now to note the exquisite beauty of the interior decoration, and succeeded in drawing Alan into a closer examination of their surroundings. When they came on the strange keyboard near the entrance, Dick's hand went impulsively towards it, to be hurriedly checked by Dundas. "Dick, for Heaven's sake, don't touch anything like that you may come across. You don't know what kind of hell you may start off. The whole place is a mass of damnable machinery," and in a few sentences he told the result of his meddling in the machinery gallery. Barry, properly impressed, sheered away from the too attractive keys and when he had finished a brief examination listened with breathless interest to the story of the opening of the "temple."
Then the two discussed in whispers the course to be adopted in the event of success. Finally Barry agreed, if somewhat doubtfully, that Alan's idea of allowing events to shape themselves was the best policy to pursue. For the last quarter of an hour scarcely a word passed between them. Barry busied himself with his preparations for the final injection, while Alan, to occupy his time, made ready the milk and the other nourishment under his friend's directions.
At last the slow-moving hands of the watch indicated the appointed time. Without hesitation, Dick turned to the work in hand. In spite of his repugnance, Dundas watched the completion of the operation with fascinated eyes. It was over in a few minutes, and with deft and steady fingers the bandage was adjusted, and fastened into its place. "Now," said Barry, "if there be any foundation for our belief, I think we will know it very shortly." Standing on either side of the couch the two watched with fast-beating hearts. Minute after minute went by. Once Alan looked up at Barry, and saw that his gaze was fixed intently on the face of the woman. His lips were set in a straight line, and there was a look of intense concentration in his eyes. Again the long, strained silence. Then suddenly a low exclamation broke from the doctor's lips. In a moment he was bending over with the stethoscope in his hand. Then he straightened up. "By God, Dun!" he stammered out. "No doubt now–distinct pulsations. Watch!" Trembling with excitement the two bent closer. As they did so the pale lips parted slightly, showing a gleam of milky white teeth, and there was the scarce-audible sound of a drawn breath in the silence, and a distinct, though slight movement of the fabric above the breast. Both men stood rigid, as if suddenly petrified. Beneath their awed eyes a miracle was being done. Slowly as the dawn a faint flush of colour spread over the pale cheeks, and a deeper hue to the perfectly curved lips. But with the flush of pink came something more, that seemed as if a veil that had rested on the pale features had been drawn aside. It appeared as if a soul had entered, and found a resting place. After the first sigh followed slow, regular respiration, and the swelling bosom beneath the clinging robe heaved gently in unison. Beautiful as she had looked before, they realised now, with the flush of life throbbing through her veins, that the woman they had first looked on was but a shadow of the one that was blossoming, like a flower, into glorious life.
Suddenly Dundas touched Barry lightly, and whispered: "Dick–we ought not to be so close. We may frighten her if she opens her eyes suddenly." With a nod, Barry acquiesced, and the two moved silently away, and stood together at a little distance. "I think it will only be a question of minutes now, Alan, from the rate those drugs are working at. Good God! What a wonder!" This from Barry, in a tense whisper. He did not know then, so fascinated was he by the spectacle, that Dundas held his arm as if clutched in a vice, and left an imprint of his straining fingers that lasted for many a day. "Look, Dick! Look! The hand!" he muttered, and as he spoke the white hand stirred restlessly, and fell across the golden cascade of her hair. A moment later came a deeper sigh than before, and the head turned slightly on the cushion. Another sigh like the first waking breath of a child, and the long lashes trembled on her cheeks, and the white lids fluttered ever so slightly, and then–The gasp of rapture that rose to Alan's lips was checked swiftly by Barry's hand. Slowly the eyes opened, glorious deep, grey orbs–then closed, and were again unveiled. It seemed to both the watchers that the moment she lay, while dawning consciousness entered her eyes, would never end. Then it seemed as if the realisation of external things came to her like a flash. The white hand was flung upward to her forehead, then she raised her head, and looked around, and in doing so her eyes fell on the two silent watchers. A little cry broke from her lips, and she half raised herself on her elbow, looking them over with frank amazement, but utterly without fear. For a little space they remained so. Neither man could find a word to say, nor make the slightest movement, while the woman seemed unable for the moment to realise the import of their presence. Then sudden comprehension dawned in those soft, shining eyes. With a quick, graceful movement, she flung the cover from her, and sat up on the edge of the couch, but never for a moment did her gaze leave them. For a while she sat thus, then, as if in recollection flashed into her mind, she opened her closed hand, and looked long and earnestly at a brown stain on the pink palm.
Relieved for the moment of the intensity of her gaze, Barry whispered wildly: "For God's sake, Dun, speak to her; say something, do something." Alan pulled himself together with an effort, and stepped forward a little with outstretched hands. How he got the strength to control his voice he never knew, but control it he did, and said quietly and evenly, "Do not fear us, please; we are friends, and would like to help you." At the sound of his voice she looked at his outstretched hands, and then into his eyes, and again her gaze fell to the dark stain on her palm. Very slowly she rose, and looked about her. Her glance swept the room from end to end until it rested on the table beside the couch, with its array of flasks and instruments. As if divining their purpose, she looked at the bandaged arm, until now unnoticed, and touched its wrappings with anxious fingers. Without taking the proffered hands, she passed Dundas slowly, and moved down the room to where the keyboard was fixed. Both men stood back as she passed, and watched her movements anxiously. Even in their perplexity they could not fail to note the graceful regal bearing of her figure as she moved. With definite purpose she touched key after key. Once an answer came in the deep musical note of a bell.
Whatever her reason was for this procedure, her perfect self-possession gave no signs as to whether the result was expected or unexpected. Without further hesitation she turned away, and, crossing the chamber, she stopped before one of the cabinets that had defied all Alan's efforts to open it. In an instant, at a touch from her fingers, the carved front slid down and outward, exposing a case in which were set a number of dials, each bearing a pointer, and ringed with hieroglyphics. For a few moments she studied these intently, and then for the first time she showed evidence of deep feeling. Whatever she had learned from the contents of the cabinet seemed to move her greatly. When she turned towards the two men, who stood silently watching