CHAPTER XVI
THE MARCH OF THE GHOSTS
I remained a captive of Brutar; and at length the time came when he was ready to start his conquest of Earth. His army, his followers, quietly had departed from the encampment, and were waiting for him in the Borderland. He stood before me—we two the last living minds remaining in his self-created realm. Around me I could see it even then beginning to rot and crumble.
He said, "The blood of the lolos is ready for us, Rob. But before we start I will warn you—if once more you try to escape you will be killed." I could not doubt but that he spoke his true intent.
He brought then a bowl, or brazier, in which like food the dried burning blood of the lolos was glowing. It was a dull red in the gloom, with tiny green tongues licking upward from it. I could not see the smoke. But I could sense it—smell it. We reclined by the brazier. The fumes brought a reeling of my senses. Unpleasant, frightening.... Then pleasant indeed. A drowsy drifting into rosy vacancy. I had intended not to yield myself wholly, but my will weakened.... I told myself that Brutar would guide me....
Out of the darkness at last with returning consciousness I found a gentle net of Brutar's thoughts cradling me. And himself regarding me impatiently.
"Come, Rob. We are here. Stay close by me—and if you help me as I wish, reward shall be yours."
There was a tenseness to his voice. I gazed around. We were in the Borderland—that same dark void with its rolling slopes. Near at hand I saw some two hundred of Brutar's workers—his fighters—drawn up in orderly array. Shadows like myself. And behind them a rabble of Egos in the fashion of men, women and children. His followers, waiting to enter the Earth-realm when the fighters had conquered it.
I saw, too, hovering near Brutar and me, a dozen shapes of men—the leaders of Brutar's army awaiting his instructions.
When I was more fully alert Brutar drew me aside. He spoke with a new force and succinctness. Because now the time for action had come and I think also that as we neared our Earth-state, there was a tendency toward restoration of all Earthly qualities.
"Rob," he said, "I'll tell you now my plan. Your greatest city is near at hand—somewhere near here."
"New York," I said.
"Yes. I plan to attack it—demolish it. It's a very small portion of your Earth, of course, but with that evidence of my power I think your Earth-leaders will cease to fight me—will admit my supremacy. If not—well, then I shall demolish each of your great cities in turn—"
He told me then that these two hundred men, with his dozen sub-leaders, were all the fighting force he at first proposed to use. We were about to attack New York City. His people would wait, here in the Borderland, for our success; then would enter the Earth-state to take possession of it.
"You can help me, Rob, because you know your city better than I do. Look around us now—tell me exactly, where are we?"
I saw then the shadows of ghostly houses. My own world! Grey, spectral houses ... streets ... a church ... trees lining a street of residences in a small quiet town. It lay in a plane tilted at a slight angle, and perhaps thirty feet above us. I looked up to the street overhead. Quiet? It was thronged with people—ghostly shapes crowded up there staring down at us. It seemed to be night up there; I could see the street lights; spots of light in the houses, and the headlights of scurrying automobiles.
The town was in a turmoil. I knew that its people saw us down here as a myriad half-materialized ghosts. They were crowding to watch us. They realized that now at last the ghosts had come in a horde! Perhaps to attack. I saw policemen on the streets; and presently a company of soldiers came along. Spurts of flame showed as evidently they fired tentatively toward the ground. But there was no sound.
Brutar chuckled. "Well, they're really frightened now! And they have cause to be. Where are we, Rob?"
It seemed possibly a suburb of New York City. I did not recognize it at once. Then off to one side I saw a shadowy river, with ghostly cliffs on its further bank. The Hudson!
"I don't know where we are," I said carefully. "Where do you want to go first, Brutar?"
"To New York City—down there where there is river all around, and a great pile of buildings."
Lower New York. But I would not lead him. I protested ignorance.
A shape approached us, a man. He gestured. "I know it is that way, Brutar."
We started. The two hundred fighters in a triple file came after us. Brutar had ordered the mob of men and women to wait where they were. We advanced slowly, and I saw with sinking heart that we were going southward. Upper New York City soon lay close ahead.
It was a strange, soundless march. The slopes of the Borderland carried us sometimes above, and sometimes below the ground of Earth. But generally we were below it. Up there over our heads the shadowy landscape was silently slipping backward. It was all too familiar now. We were under upper Broadway. Huge apartment houses loomed high up there, with the Hudson almost at our level to the right.
Our advance was followed up above. From every window people were peering fearsomely down at us. The cross streets were jammed. But ahead of us policemen were clearing them. And down empty Broadway, and down each of the North and South Avenues troops of the State Militia were marching, keeping as nearly as possible directly over us.
"Brutar," I said, "you cannot fight this world. Look at them there. They're ready—waiting."
Machine guns were posted at most of the street corners now; and as we passed beneath them they were moved swiftly forward to other streets ahead of us. The boat traffic of the river was being cleared. Police boats, armed and ready, were paralleling our march. A war-vessel lay anchored ahead, off Grant's Tomb. Its funnels were smoking, and as we neared it, very slowly it steamed along with us.
And over in Jersey and on Long Island I had no doubt they were ready with watching troops and every precaution. Let one of us who now were mere ghosts dare to materialize further, and at once we would be killed. What could Brutar do?
He laughed at my thoughts. "You shall see, Rob, when we get among the great houses and I lay my weapons."
I could not fathom what he meant, but the sure confidence of his tone had an ominous ring to it. Weapons? I saw none. We were empty-handed, Brutar and I. And the twelve sub-leaders were empty-handed as well. But of Brutar's attacking force marching behind us, I had noticed that each man was carrying a single article. I could not call them weapons; I did not know what they were. They seemed more like grey, ghostly bricks, each man carrying one.
What were they? I could no more than guess. Some material, doubtless of Brutar's creation, brought into this Borderland state. Would these ghosts, each with a simple brick like these—would they dare to materialize—dare to enter our Earth-state upon an equality of being with the armed, massed troops awaiting them? It seemed incredible. Two hundred ghosts marching in spectral array beneath the city, with soldiers above; and machine guns, and war-vessels alert to destroy them.
I told myself that there was nothing to fear. I had thought of escape. Desperately I would try to rejoin Will and Bee that we might do something to stem this invasion. Or escape, and get up there to Earth, to tell the authorities what I knew. But sober reason told me that as yet I knew very little. I had best stay with Brutar, to learn what I could.
We passed under the length of Manhattan; came at last to lower Broadway. We were close beneath it. The great shadowy piles of masonry towered above us. Looking upward I could see the shadowy outlines of the foundations of the buildings; to the right the tubes leading to New Jersey beneath the river; the network of water mains; gas; light; arteries of the city. And I could see up through the sub-cellars, the cellars, and into the buildings themselves. Towering structures with all their anatomy laid bare as though some giant X-ray were turned upon them.
We stopped; gathered in a group. We were just beneath City Hall Park, standing partly within one of the Subway tunnels. No trains were running. Soldiers were massed on the station platform. They came along the tracks—transparent ghosts of uniformed, armed men—came until some of them passed directly through us; and stood nearby, grimly watching and waiting.
In the empty park overhead, policemen were on guard, and troops were bringing in machine guns. I could see, too, that soldiers were now massing on the shadowy Brooklyn Bridge; police boats were clustering on the river there; and armed men were waiting in the cellar of every building nearby. There were towering giants of buildings all about us here.... The Woolworth Building was close at hand....
Brutar said, "I should not care just now, to materialize further, Rob. These men look very determined." His laugh was ironical. "They are watching us closely—much good it will do them!"
He called his little band of fighters to him; they stood partly on the Subway tracks and partly beneath them. And he gave his low-toned instructions.
I saw ten of his men move aside as he indicated them. "Yes," he said. "You first. And I think I would work upon that large house over there."
Silently, with their ghostly glowing bricks in hand, the ten advanced. Across the Subway tracks, through the spectral earth and rock strata under Broadway. Climbing or floating upward, I could not tell. Moving through and into the vitals of the Woolworth Building.