The Lord of Death and the Queen of Life, Homer Eon Flint [ebook reader .txt] 📗

round worlds, like unto our own.

“And it doth further appear that these other worlds also have air like this we breathe, and that some have less, while others have even more. From what Edam has told me,” finished the old man, “I judge that his vision took place on Jeos, [Footnote: The Mercurian word for earth.] a world much larger than ours according to my calculations, and doubtless having enough air to permit very light creatures to move about in it.”

“Go on,” said I to Edam, good-humoredly. “I be ever willing to believe anything strange when my stomach is full.”

The dreamer had taken no offense. “Then I bent my gaze closer, as I am always able, in visions. And I saw that the greenery was most remarkably dense, tangled and luxuriant to a degree not ever seen here. And moving about in it was the most extraordinary collection of beings that I have ever laid these eyes upon.

“There were some huge creatures, quite as tall as thy house, Strokor, with legs as big around as that huge chest of thine. They had tails, as had our ancient mulikka, save that these were terrific things, as long and as big as the trunk of a large tree. I know not their names. [Footnote: Probably the dinosaur.]

“And then, at the other extreme, was a tiny creature of the air, which moved with a musical hum. It could have hid under thy fingernail, Strokor, yet it had a tiny sharp-pointed bill, with which it stung most aggravatingly. And between these two there were any number of creatures of varying size and shape.

“But nowhere was there a sign of a man. True, there was one hairy, grotesque creature which hung by its hands and feet from the tree-tops, very like thee in some way, Strokor; but its face and head were those of a brainless beast, not of a man. Nowhere was a creature like me or thee.

“And the most curious thing was this: Although there were ten times as many of these creatures, big and little, to the same space as on our world, yet there was no great amount of strife. In truth, there is far more combat and destruction among we men than among the beasts.

“And,” he spoke most earnestly, as though he would not care to be disbelieved, “I saw fathers fight to protect their young!”

I near fell from my stool in my amaze. Never in all my life had I heard a thing so far from the fact. “What!” I shouted. “Ye sit there like a sane man, and tell me ye saw fathers fight for their young?”

He nodded his head, still very gravely. I fell silent for want of words, but Maka put in a thought. “It would appear, Strokor, that it be not so much of an effort for beings to live, there on Jeos, as here. Perchance ‘tis the greater amount of vegetation; at all accounts, the animals need not prey upon one another so generally; and that, then, would explain why some have energy enough to waste in the care of their young.”

“I can understand,” I said, very slowly. “I can understand why a mother will fight for her babes; ‘tis reasonable enough, no doubt. But as for fathers doing the same—Edam, dost mean to say that ALL creatures on Jeos do this?”

“Nay; only some. It may be that fewer than half of the varieties have the custom. Howbeit, ‘tis a beautiful one. When the vision ended I was right loath to go.”

“Faugh!” I spat upon the ground. “Such softness makes me ill! I be glad I were born in a man’s world, where I can take a man’s chances. I want no favoring. If I am strong enough to live, I live; if not, I die. What more can I ask?”

“Aye, my lad!” said Maka approvingly. “This be a world for the strong. There is no room here for others; there is scarce enough food for those who, thanks to their strength, do survive.” He slipped the gold band from off his wrist, and held it up for Jon to see. “Here, Strokor, a pledge! A pledge to—the survival of the fittest!”

“A neat, neat wording!” I roared, as I took the pledge with him. Then we both stopped short. Edam had not joined us. “Edam, my lad,” spake the old man, “ye will take the pledge with us?”

The stripling’s eyes were troubled. Well he knew that, once he refused such an act, he were no longer welcome in my house, nor in Maka’s. But when he looked around it were bravely enough.

“Men, I have neither the strength of the one nor the brains of the other of ye. I am but a watchmaker; I live because of my skill with the little wheels.

“I have no quarrel with either of ye.” He got to his feet, and started to the door. “But I cannot take the pledge with ye.

“I have seen a wondrous thing, and I love it. And, though I know not why—I feel that Jon has willed it for Jeos to see a new race of men, a race even better than ours.”

I leaped to my feet. “Better than ours! Mean ye to say, stripling, that there can be a better man than Strokor?”

I full expected him to shrink from me in fear; I was able to crush him with one blow. But he stood his ground; nay, stepped forward and laid a hand easily upon my shoulder.

“Strokor—ye are more than a man; ye are two men in one. There is no finer—I say it fair. And yet, I doubt not that there can be, and will be, a better!”

And with that such a curious expression came into his face, such a glow of some strange land of warmth, that I let my hand drop and suffered him to depart in peace—such was my wonder.

Besides, any miserable lout could have destroyed the lad.

Maka sat deep in thought for a time, and when he did speak he made no mention of the lad who had just quit us. Instead, he looked me over, long and earnestly, and at the end he shook his head sorrowfully and sighed:

“Thou art the sort of a son I would have had, Strokor, given the wits of thy father to hold a woman like thy mother. And thou didst save my life.”

He mused a little longer, then roused himself and spake sharply: “Thou art a vain man, Strokor!”

“Aye,” I agreed, willingly enough. “And none has better cause than I!”

He would not acknowledge the quip. “Thou hast everything needful to tickle thy vanity. Thou hast the envy of those who note thy strength, the praise of them who love thy courage, and the respect of they who value thy brains. All these thou hast—and yet ye have not that which is best!”

I thought swiftly and turned on him with a frown: “Mean ye that I am not handsome enough?”

“Nay, Strokor,” quoth the star-gazer. “There be none handsomer in this world, no matter what the standard of any other, such as Edam’s Jeos.

“It is not that. It is, that thou hast no ambition.”

I considered this deeply. At first thought it was not true; had I not always made it a point to best my opponent? From my youth it had been ever my custom to succeed where bigger bodies and older minds had failed. Was not this ambition?

But before I disputed the point with Maka, I saw what he meant. I had no FINAL ambition, no ultimate goal for which to strive. I had been content from year to year to outdo each rival as he came before me; and now, with mind and body alike in the pink of condition, I was come to the place where none durst stand before me.

“Ye are right, Maka,” I admitted, not because I cared to gratify his conceit, but because it were always for my own good to own up when wrong, that I might learn the better. “Ye are right; I need to decide upon a life-purpose. What have ye thought?”

The old man was greatly pleased. “Our talk with Edam brought it all before me. Know you, Strokor, that the survival of the fittest is a rule which governs man as well as men. It applies to the entire population, Strokor, just as truly as to me or thee.

“In fine, we men who are now the sole inhabitants of this world, are descended from a race of people who survived solely because they were fitter than the mulikka, fitter than the reptiles, the fittest, by far, of all the creatures.

“That being the case, it is plain that in time either our empire, or that of Klow’s, must triumph over the other. And that which remains shall be the fittest!”

“Hold!” I cried. “Why cannot matters remain just as they now are—and forever?”

“That” he said rapidly, “is because thou knowest so little about the future of this world. But I am famed as a student of the heavens; and I tell thee it is possible, by means of certain delicate measuring instruments, together with the highest mathematics, to keep a very close watch upon the course of our world. And we now know that our year is much shorter than it was in the days of the mulikka.”

I nodded my head. “Rightly enough, since our days are become steadily longer, for some mysterious reason.”

“A reason no longer a mystery,” quoth Maka. “It is now known that the sun is a very powerful magnet, and that it is constantly pulling upon our world and bringing it nearer and nearer to himself. That is why it hath become slightly warmer during the past hundred years; the records show it plain. And the same influence has caused the lengthening of our day.”

He stopped and let me think. Soon I saw it clearly enough; a time must come when the increasing warmth of the sun would stifle all forms of vegetable life, and that would mean the choking of mankind. It might take untold centuries; yet, plainly enough, the world must some day become too small for even those who now remained upon it.

Suddenly I leaped to my feet and strode the room in my excitement. “Ye are right, Maka!” I shouted, thoroughly aroused. “There cannot always be the two empires. In time one or the other must prevail; Jon has willed it. And—” I stopped short and stared at him—“I need not tell ye which it shall be!”

“I knew thou wouldst see the light, Strokor! Thou hast thy father’s brains.”

I sat me down, but instantly leaped up again, such was my enthusiasm. “Maka,” I cried, “our emperor is not the man for the place! It is true that he were a brave warrior in his youth; he won the throne fairly. And we have suffered him to keep it because he is a wise man, and because we have had little trouble with the men of Klow since their defeat two generations agone.

“But he, today, is content to sit at his ease and quote platitudes about live and let live. Faugh! I am ashamed that I should even have given ear to him!”

I stopped short and glared at the old man. “Maka—hark ye well! If it be the will of Jon to decide between the men of Klow and the men of Vlamaland, then it is my intent to take a hand in this decision!”

“Aye, my lad,” he said tranquilly; and then added, quite as though he knew what my answer must be: “How do ye intend to go about it?”

“Like a man! I, Strokor, shall become the emperor!”

III THE THRONE

A small storm had