[The Shining Ebook Pdf 213
Rancul Ratha
This ebook tells the story of North America from the very beginning up to the twentieth century. Told in a pioneering narrative format, this book boldly includes the lives of the saints, who were indispensable figures in history.
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It had been a monstrous flyingthing like a giant blue-bottle flythat he had been battling in hissleep. Memory of the thing's high-pitched,droning buzz still rang inhis ears. Then abruptly he realizedthat the peculiar buzzing was nomere echo of a nightmare. It wasan actual sound that still vibratedfrom somewhere within the camp.
Startled into full awakening, Fosterpropped himself up on one elbow.The sound was penetrating,but not particularly loud. He wasapparently the only one whom ithad awakened. In the gray gloomof the desert starlight he saw theblanket-shrouded figures of the restof the men still deep in slumber.
He realized the source of thesound now. It came from inside theblack walls of Layroh's tent,pitched there in its usual isolationon a slight rise fifty yards fromthe sleeping group. Foster grunteddisgustedly to himself. More ofLayroh's scientific hocus-pocus!The man seemed to go out of hisway to add new phases of mysteryto this crazy expedition of histhrough the barren wastelands ofthe Mojave.
For a solid week now they hadbeen working their way back andforth over a thirty-mile stretch ofdesert, while Layroh labored withhis intricate instruments searchingfor something known only to himself.Whatever reason Layroh hadfor recruiting a party of fifteen toaccompany him was still a mystery.So far the men had done practicallynothing except trail along afterLayroh while he worked with hisapparatus.
It was a state of affairs thatcaused the men little worry. Aslong as they had enough to eatthey were quite content. They weredown-and-outers, all of them, humanderelicts recruited from thepark benches and cheap flop housesof Los Angeles. They had onlyone thing in common: all of themwere large and powerful men.
Don Foster was the youngest ofthe fifteen, and the only collegeman in the group. A succession ofbad breaks had finally landed himbroke and hungry on a park bench,where Layroh found him. Layroh'soffer of ten dollars a day and allexpenses had seemed a godsend.Foster had promptly jumped at theoffer. Layroh's peculiar conditionsand rules had seemed trivial detailsat the time.
Layroh neither ate with the mennor mingled with them in any waythat could possibly be avoided. Assoon as they made camp each nighthe set up his small black tent andremained inside it until camp wasbroken the next morning. No oneknew whether the man ever slept.All night long the violet lightglowed inside the black tent. Themen had wondered about the unusualcolor of that light, then hadfinally decided it was probablysomething required by the sameeye weakness that made Layrohwear heavily smoked goggles, bothday and night.
Strange sounds in the night asLayroh worked with his apparatusin the black tent were nothing unusual,but to-night was the firsttime that Foster had ever heardthis peculiar whining buzz. As helistened it rose in a sudden thincrescendo that rippled along hisspine like a file rasping over nakednerve-ends. For one shuddering secondthere seemed to be an intangibleliving quality in that metallicdrone, as though some namelesscreature sang in horrible exultance.Then abruptly the sound ceased.
He was just settling down intohis blankets when a movement inthe tent drew his attention back toit. Layroh was apparently changingthe position of the violet light,for his tall figure was suddenlysilhouetted against the tent wall insharp relief.
Foster started in surprise as anotherfigure loomed darkly besidethat of Layroh. For a moment hethought that the unprecedented hadhappened and some member of theexpedition was inside those jealouslyguarded tent walls with Layroh.Then he saw that the figure mustbe a mere trick of the shadows castby the moving light upon somepiece of luggage. It looked likethe torso of a man, but the headwas a shapeless blob and the armswere nothing more than bonelessdangling flaps. A moment later thelight moved on and both shadowsvanished.
Foster grinned sheepishly overthe momentary start the distortedshadow had given him, and determinedlyrolled himself in his blanketsto sleep. It was after sunrisewhen he awoke. The rest of thecamp was already up, but there wasone member of the party missing.
Jeff Peters' empty blankets werestill spread there on the sand, butno one had seen the big Negrosince the camp turned in the nightbefore. The expedition's daily travelsunder the blazing sun of theMojave never had appealed particularlyto Jeff, and he had apparentlyat last made good his repeatedthreats to desert.
Physically, the man was a giant,towering well over six feet inheight. On several occasions whenthe expedition's cars had stalled indeep sand he had strikingly demonstratedthe colossal strength in histall body.
His aquiline features, his red-bronzecomplexion, and his longblack hair, were all suggestive ofIncan or Mayan ancestry. No onehad ever seen any trace of feelingor emotion upon his impassive features.Foster would have given agood deal for just one glimpse ofthe eyes hidden behind the dark-coloredgoggles. In their depths hemight be able to find some reasonfor the tingling surge of namelessdread that Layroh's close approachalways inspired.
Layroh noted Jeff Peters' absenceat once. "We seem to have our firstdeserter," he commented evenly. Hisvoice was as richly resonant as thetone of some fine old violin. Hehesitated almost imperceptibly betweenwords, like one to whomEnglish was not a native tongue.
They finished packing the breakfaststuff in the supply truck, andthe party started out along the trailwith Layroh's sedan leading theway. For nearly two hours theyfollowed their usual routine, workingsteadily eastward and stoppingat regular intervals while Layrohmade his methodical tests with hisinstruments.
Then near the end of the secondhour something happened that abruptlysent a thrill of excitementthrough the entire expedition. Layrohhad just set his apparatus upon a small sand dune beside thetrail. The mechanism looked somewhatlike a portable radio, with twoslender parallel rods on top and anumber of dials on the main panel.
Layroh swung the rods slowlyaround the horizon while he carefullytuned the various dials. Itwas when the rods pointed towardthe southeast that there suddenlycame the first response he had everreceived. From somewhere withinthe mechanism there came a faintstaccato ripple of clear beauty likecountless tiny hammers beatingupon a crystal gong.
From then on the progress of theparty became a mad dash that taxedthe endurance of everyone exceptLayroh himself. After the first hourthey entered a terrain so ruggedthat the cars had to be abandonedand they fought their way forwardon foot. Layroh was forced to turnthe radiolike apparatus over to oneof the men, while he himself carriedanother mechanism that consistedof a heavy silver cylinderwith four flexible nozzles emergingfrom one end.
They held as rigidly as possibleto a straight line toward the southeast,scrambling over whatever obstaclesintervened. Their only stopswere at regular intervals whenLayroh checked their course. Eachtime the crystalline signal came inwith greater volume.
Their objective appeared to be acone-shaped peak several milesahead that loomed up high abovethe surrounding rock masses. Theoddly shaped mountain was identifiedby one of the men who hadonce been a Mojave desert rat.
The crystalline signal came in arippling flood. He spun the dials.The sound ceased, and the pointingrods glowed with an aura of amberlight at their tips. Swift and startlinganswer came from deep withinthe heart of the cliff, a mighty noteof sonorous beauty like the violentplucking of a string on some colossalbass viol. So powerful was thetimbre of the pulsing sound thatthe entire side of the mountainseemed to vibrate in harmony withit.
Layroh snapped off the apparatusand the sound ceased. Carefullysearching until he found a certainspot on the cliff face, he steppedclose to it and unlimbered the nozzlesof the silver cylinder. Fosternoted that at the place selected byLayroh there was a five-foot-widestratum of slightly lighter-coloredrock extending from the sand to apoint high up on the cliff face.
From the metal nozzles of thecylinder there spurted a broad beamof dead black. There was a searingflash of blue-white flame as theblack beam struck the cliff face.There followed a brief second duringwhich the rock melted intonothingness in the heart of thatarea of blue radiance. Then thestabbing beam bored steadily onback into the cliff like the flameof a blow torch melting a waythrough a block of butter.
Layroh adjusted the nozzles untilthe black beam was a solid shaftof opacity seven feet in height andnearly five in width. The hole inthe cliff became a tunnel fromwhich blue radiance surged outwardin a shimmering mist as theblack beam steadily bit deeper intothe rock.
He stepped forward and enteredthe mouth of the tunnel. Shakenby the spectacular thing occurringbefore their eyes, yet, driven bycuriosity as to what might lie atthe end of that swift-forming tunnel,the men came crowding obedientlyafter him. A moment laterthey were within the passage,stumbling dazedly forward throughthe billowing fog of bluish radiance.There was an odd, almostelectric, tingle of exhilaration inthat radiant mist as it surged abouttheir bodies.
The action of the black ray wasamazingly rapid. They were forcedto hurry forward at a fast walk tokeep their distance behind Layroh.The vertical stratum of lighter-coloredrock continued straightback into the heart of the mountain.It apparently served as aguide. The color of the blue flame-mistchanged perceptibly wheneverLayroh allowed the black ray tostray into the rock at either sideof it.
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