Affliction and Triumph
Great as had been the surprises of the last few hours, still stranger events awaited me....
After swooning away in the Ventilation Office, I remained unconscious for a long while—so I was afterwards told. When I came to myself again, it was after a period of blankness, varied by nightmares in which I saw Loa bending over me solicitously, her milky face more wrinkled than ever, her fat form bulging until she resembled a monstrous dumpling. Awakening from a long-protracted dream of this character, wherein I fled down endless labyrinths in the vain attempt to elude the enchantress, I found myself in a place so mysterious that I cried out involuntarily in my bewilderment.
I was lying at full length, in a sort of bed or couch, with a sheet drawn over me up to the neck; and I was conscious that all my clothes had been removed, except for a single shirt-like covering, and that my head was swathed in bandages. To my right rose a bare wall, and above me, at a height of three or four feet, stared a blank ceiling; while to the left, across an aisle little more than a yard wide, I beheld a sight that gave me the confused impression that I was back again in the Overworld, in a Pullman car. In neat rows of berths, arranged one above the other, three tiers high, dozens of men were reclining, one to each cot, all of them buried up to the neck beneath the sheets!
Where was I? In prison? In a ward for the insane? In a death-cell, awaiting execution by some new device more terrible than the violet ray?
As these questions, and others equally frightening, rushed across my mind, I began gradually to observe other details. I saw the wires, with pulley-like attachments, which ran through minute holes in the ceiling to each of the berths and carried little rattling cars no larger than a small ink bottle; I saw the vials and tubes, filled with variously colored liquids and powders, which stood on a neatly numbered shelf just above my head; and I noted that a copper wire, attached to my left wrist, ran the length of the bed and out through an opening in the wall, and that similar wires led to each of the other berths.
Although the suspicion came to me that these might be intended for the simultaneous electrocution of us all, I was so weak and weary that even the dread of imminent death could not disturb me for long; I sank back upon a pillow composed of some straw-like substance, closed my eyes, and fell into a refreshing slumber....
From this sleep I was aroused with a start by the sound of someone talking in a voice of thunder. How my heart hammered as I awoke from that pleasant doze! How I shuddered! What chills crept up and down my spine! In my bewildered state of mind, it took me a minute to discover that there was no speaker visible, and that the voice—transmitted by radio—issued from a huge horn projecting from the ceiling behind me.
Unfortunately, I had missed the first words of the talk; but, judging from what I later heard, I believe I can reproduce it fairly accurately.
"Mechanical Hospital Number 807 QL. Third Class! It is now precisely fifteen minutes and eleven seconds after the start of the wake! Time to take your morning tonic! This you will find on the shelf above you: Number 36 A, in the blue vial. Dissolve two pellets in the distilled water which you will find in Number 36 B. Drink slowly, and finish with an ounce of the liquid in 36 C. Then recline, and return to sleep. Our next announcement will be for the mid-morning repast!"
With an uncanny suddenness, the machine snapped into silence, while the occupants of all the other berths, rising slightly out of bed, reached for the indicated vials and consumed the contents as the voice had directed. For my own part, however, I was too sick and too bewildered to seek to follow instructions; I merely sank down into bed again, thinking that if this were a hospital, certainly it was the queerest I had ever viewed.
But still stranger experiences awaited me. The very next moment I unwittingly made a blunder that led to new discoveries. Finding that the wire about my wrist irritated me, since it dug into the flesh and checked the circulation, I pulled at it viciously, and succeeded in removing it. But no sooner had I disentangled the obstruction than I was shocked by hearing a bell clanging just above my head, reminding me of a burglar-alarm. And, from the radio-speaker on the ceiling, a voice bawled reprovingly.
"The patient who has just removed his wrist-register will kindly fasten it on again. We cannot expect to cure him unless this is left securely in place. For the benefit of any persons still ignorant of the facts, we may repeat that the wrist-register is the essence of modern medicine. By means of a faint but constant electric current, it records the patient's pulse, temperature, and respiration, which are noted down in the chart-room by automatic wired connections. Thus we are aware of the patient's condition minute by minute, and are able to eliminate the necessity of expensive attendants. It is this device which has made the Mechanical Hospital possible, and has enabled Third Class Citizens to enjoy the benefits of modern medical knowledge."
As I hastily readjusted the wire, I marveled at the medical advances of the chalk-faces, who have progressed so far above us of the Overworld. None the less, how I would have welcomed the presence of a flesh-and-blood physician!
Let me now pass over the space of a few hours, during which I dozed from time to time, and from time to time took food or drugs in accordance with the radio instructions, which were constantly awakening me from the most invigorating slumbers. The next important event occurred toward the close of the "wake," when the radio announced "Visitors' Hour."
Needless to say, this announcement did net interest me at first, for who was there to see me? Who, in fact, even knew of my presence here?
Yet once again I had miscalculated. I was to receive not one visitor, but several—in fact, two distinct groups! And one group was to be more alarming than the other.
No sooner had "Visitors' Hour" begun than I heard four or five heavy pairs of feet shuffling down the aisle in my direction; and, peering out of the bed toward the newcomers, I was electrified with fright at the sight of several familiar faces. There were the very men, the employees of the Ventilation Company, who had met me yesterday after my ignominious descent, and had threatened to call the Manager. And among them—might heaven preserve me!—I noticed the tigerish face of the Manager himself!
Only on one other occasion—when I had begun work in the Ventilation Office—had I encountered this individual, who answered to the name of Go Grabl. But never could I forget the occasion; he had insisted so severely on my duties to the Company, and had pointed out the penalties for violation of the rules so explicitly, that I had thought of him somewhat as the small boy thinks of the rod-wielding pedagogue.
And now here he was, cornering me where I was not able to escape him! Could he not at least wait until I was well?
Shuddering, I turned my face toward the wall, so as to shut out the sight of the intruder. But all to no avail! I heard him, along with the other men, halting opposite my berth; and I could not but catch the tones of their conversation.
"There he is!" exclaimed the first of the visitors; and I could imagine with what contempt he pointed to me. "All beaten up and abraded from knocking about inside the tube!"
"No wonder!" declared a second. "He must have gone through at least two miles of pipe!"
"When did you say he would be well again?" I heard the powerful voice of the Manager. "Naturally, we can do nothing until then!"
"They say he'll be out in a few wakes," returned the first. "Only suffering from shock, along with surface scratches and bruises."
"Good!" bawled the Manager. "It would be awkward if he had been turned over!"
Oh, would these men never go away and leave me in peace? In despair, I turned toward them, and opened my mouth to speak. Alas!—they would not let me get a word in edgeways!
But what was this that they were saying? Could I believe my ears? Or was I only dreaming?
"It was a wonderful performance," one of the ventilating employees was declaring. "Yes, a wonderful performance! Personally, I never saw anything like it. To creep for miles through the ventilation tubes, all the way from his office to ours! To dust them out and brush away all obstructions, at the risk of his life! Why, I assure you, Go Grabl, it was heroism! We were all dumbfounded! The best of it was he succeeded! He repaired the ventilation! From the moment he left the duct, the air currents were working properly again!"
Could it be that I was not dreaming, after all?
"Such modesty I never saw before!" a second employee was relating. "Can you believe it, Go Grabl, when we promised to report the affair to you, he tried to dissuade us! He seemed positively eager not to take the credit!"
"Such self-effacement," rang out the heavy voice of the Manager, "is much to the credit of any worker! It is the ideal that the Company demands! We will not forget such devoted service!"
And then, nodding to me with a smile, while I vainly strove to get in a word at last, he counseled, "Quiet there, my good man, quiet! In your condition, it is best not to speak; you need all your energy to get well. But I want you to know that your heroic deeds will not be soon forgotten. You will be rewarded, my dear man, you will be rewarded. And now, good-bye! Good-bye!"
"Good-bye! Good-bye!" echoed the other ventilation employees, and all bowed low to do me honor.
Spellbound, I had no word to say; but as they filed off down the aisle, I could hear the Manager's pleased voice.
"We will report this exploit in our monthly Company booklet, as an example to all our workers! It will live in the annals of the Company; yes, it will live in the annals of the Company!"
While I was wondering if they were crazy or I, I heard heavy footsteps thumping toward me along the aisle and glanced out of bed to receive a new shock.
Waddling forward as fast as her corpulent form would permit, and with an ingratiating smile on her wrinkled face, was none other than Loa! And behind her, benignantly beaming, loomed her father, Professor Tan Trum!
"Well, well, well, my boy!" rattled the latter, as he made his way toward my berth. "Here you are at last! We have been waiting for you in the reception room a full hour—a full hour, by my watch! They are not very courteous in these Third Class hospitals! But Loa wanted to come—so here we are! It would hardly be proper to let a respectable girl come alone to such quarters," he finished, as he surveyed the three tiers of berths with a disapproving sniff of his uptilted nose.
"Oh, my dear, my dear, I'm so glad we've come!" enthused Loa, scarcely waiting for her father to end. "We've heard all about it! The Wakely Screamer tells the story in headlines! It even has pictures, showing how you climbed up the Ventilation Tube! How brave you were, my dear! How very brave! It makes me feel so honored to know—well, to know that I can call such a man my very own!"
And she reached out her capacious arms as if to enfold me—with the result that I felt ready to swoon again.
"You can't imagine how nervous I was about you last night, my dear, when you didn't come home!" continued Loa, in a fluent stream. "I was afraid you were lost! But father—father here wasn't worried. He was so absorbed in his researches into the antiquity of the hyphen, he only growled and said, what if you did get lost? The streets are as safe as our own home! But I didn't get a wink of sleep—not one wink!—until I read the news in the Screamer. Now, of course, I understand why you didn't come back!"
No defeated general, suddenly realizing that his most carefully laid strategy has failed, could have had a more bitter sinking sensation than overcame me at that moment. Evidently Loa and her father had not even guessed that I had run away!
"My dear boy," the Professor continued, still glancing disparagingly about the room, "what a miserable rat-hole they've given you to sleep in! You can't remain here! We'll arrange to take you back home immediately!"
"Yes, of course, we'll arrange immediately!" coincided Loa, beaming upon me with a devouring smile. "You poor dear! We'll give you better treatment! I'll take care of you myself!"
Overwhelmed at this idea, I opened my mouth to protest; but the words stuck in my throat and would not come. Instead, I uttered something halfway between a gasp and a sob.
"No, no, dear, don't exert yourself!" urged Loa. "Don't thank us yet! You're still too weak to speak! But we'll see the authorities—and have all the arrangements made."
The truth is that I was too weak to speak—much too weak! As Professor Tan Trum nodded good-bye and disappeared along the aisle, followed by his daughter, who smiled at me in the most infatuated way imaginable, I relapsed momentarily into a state of coma, from which I was a long while in recovering.
It is doubtful if I would have recuperated at all, in less than several "wakes," had it not been for a message that came to me an hour or two later, sealed in an envelope that shot to my bedside through a pneumatic tube. This was so unexpected, and so heartening, that it helped me more than all the hospital tonics, and even enabled me, for a time, to drive away the dread vision of Loa.
The letter, written on the embossed stationery of the Ventilation Company, ran as follows:
"No. 44,667,023 XZ, Third Class,
c/o Mechanical Hospital No. 807 QL,
Third Class.
"Dear Sir:
"By virtue of your distinguished services on the line of duty, we are honored, on the recommendation of our Manager, Go Grabl, to promote you from Ventilating Clerk to Ventilating Inspector, the appointment to take effect as soon as you are able to return to work. In your new capacity, your hours will be half what you formerly served, and by way of compensation, your salary will be doubled. We remain,
"Appreciatively yours,
"THE VENTILATION COMPANY OF WU,
"(Per Do Quil, Ninety-Eighth Vice-President)."
It is from my appointment as Ventilating Inspector that I date the beginning of my phenomenal rise in the affairs of the Underworld.