The menacing current felt even stronger when I stood on deck that night. Overhead, the aurora borealis pulsated in shifting bars and banners of unearthly radiance, changing the immense frozen ocean from white to green, violet and crimson. Like a mad musician, the freezing wind strummed the schooner's halyards and made the masts boom out their deep voices.
But the rune key under my shirt tormented me with its conflicting demands. It ordered me to throw it back to the icy waters. Helpless, I ripped it out and tugged at the cord, trying to snap it. An even stronger command made me put it back.
The moment I buttoned my shirt, I cursed myself for being a fool. Why should I want to destroy something of potential value to science? Inwardly, though, I realized that the demands of the rune key were stronger than my own will.
"It can be explained scientifically," I muttered uneasily. "Everything has a scientific explanation, once we can isolate it."
But how could a small, golden cylinder penetrate my mind and order it about like a servant? What filled my heart with doubt and dread?
For all my canny skepticism and scientific training, I couldn't answer those insistent questions, nor keep myself from being tormented by the damned thing…
Chapter II
Mystery Land
It was a brilliant Arctic morning. The sun glittered on the white ice-pack, the placid grey sea and the battered hull of the Peter Saul. I was ready for my first reconnaissance flight northward. Doctor John Carrul, chief of the expedition, called down to me from the rail of the schooner.
"Don't go too far the first trip, Masters. And return at once if the weather grows threatening."