“We caused the Noachin Flood, inadvertently, when we split once solid Gibraltar, filling the Mediterranean basin. For a time, during the great Grecian Era, we mingled somewhat with mortals, giving rise to their famous mythology, Our science deeds and seeming miracles, in various roles, impressed them as the doings of a race of gods.
“And other things we have done. But these things, too, have ceased to interest us. In the past three thousand years we have done little but sigh and wonder if perhaps suicide would not be preferable to the slow poison of ennui. Even your rise two thousand years ago, Anton York, and your exploits of a thousand years ago, failed to intrigue us more than casually. We have utterly lost that strange but important human ability to care about anything!”
Suddenly York and Vera saw in their eyes the haunting lassitude of spirit that obsessed them. They were three incredibly old men—despite their young bodies—who had tasted life to the full and could no longer wring out one drop of stimulation. Mentally, they had already died.
Anton York drew a long breath. At times he, too, even in his comparatively short two thousand years of existence, had wondered how long it would be before there would be nothing new to him—nothing further to lure his interest. Then he shook off the dull spell. One must not think of such things too much.
“From what land do you come, preceding recorded human history? He asked, anticipating the answer.
“Atlantis,” was the reply from the Three Eternals. “At that time Atlantis in the Atlantic Ocean and Lemuria in the Pacific were two great continents. Their civilizations touched heights never since exceeded. But they warred incessantly, and it was to lead to their mutual destruction.
“We three had been great scientists of that time. We discovered the secret of immortality, partook of it. Also conquering gravity, as did you, we went out into space for a time. When we came back, Atlantis and Mu lay under the oceans, and new lands had risen! Atlantis, in trying to undermine Mu with giant atomic-power machines, touched off a fault in Earth’s crust, leading to world-wide holocaust.
“Thus, we three found ourselves orphaned from the world we had known. Our magnificent cities and glorious monuments lay under the ocean ooze. Strangely, that is the only thing that can now stir our hearts—thought of that ancient glory. A nostalgia that has survived twenty thousand years—and has grown stronger!”
York’s nerves became tense.
“Yes?” he prompted.
A slight glow came into their faces as their spokesman went on. His psychic voice vibrated strongly.
“Thus we have decided to bring up our homeland of Atlantis, from its briny grave. Resurrect it, rehabilitate it, restore some semblance of its former grandeur. A long, tedious task, perhaps, but one we will truly enjoy.” A fanatic light came into his eyes. “Sentimentality is the one human emotion we have not lost. We cherish a memory. It can be moulded into reality. Atlantis must rise again!”
York and his wife looked at one another. That accounted for the bubbles over the South Atlantic. The ocean floor ooze, disturbed after long ages of quiescence, was giving up its occluded gases.
“How is it being done?” queried York, feigning deep curiosity, and nothing more.
“It is simple. We made a long study of Earth’s crust, through seismological data. Any major geologic disturbance is linked to others. They form a chain. By setting them off in the proper order, any desired end result can be obtained. Exploding a certain small island in the Atlantic, we started waves of concussion in the thin, unstable crust. The slow, irresistible forces existing in the plasma layer beneath the crust were awakened. They will culminate by pushing the floor of the Atlantic and. Pacific up above water level.
“This was started ten years ago. Perhaps in another century or so, the process be completed. We are in no hurry. Then we will begin our great reconstruction of Atlantean glory!”
“Can the process be stopped?” asked York, wondering if they would answer.
It may have been a mocking light that shone from their eyes as the reply came.
“Yes, by a suitable counter wave in the crust, to neutralize the first.”
York snapped himself alert. He had heard all he wanted to hear. His telepathic radiations almost crackled as he said:
“And in the meantime, Earth’s billions of people will go to their doom!”
“That is unfortunate.” The Eternal shrugged. “However, some few will be chosen and saved to repopulate the new Atlantis. The rest must die simply because they will have no place in our new world. All the old lands will not sink, but for a time, as the process approaches its climax, there will be violent earthquakes and storms that will decimate most of them.”
“It’s the most cold-blooded scheme ever thought of by man!” raged York, his self-control breaking. “You must not go on with it!”
The Three Eternals in the visi-screen looked annoyed, then faintly amused.
“Who will stop us? You?”
“Yes!” returned York, grimly. “I give you fair warning. I have a weapon whose activity you have probably seen wielded. In ten seconds, if you do not agree to reverse your geological process, I’ll use it!”
“You are brave, Anton York, but foolishly so,” the answer came back imperturbably. “We have illimitable power. We three.”
“One!” interposed York, in answer.
With his protective screen on full power, York trained his weapon’s snout at the marble building and counted tensely. The Eternal triumvirate sat there disdainfully, as though un—aware of danger. One of them idly reached over to a panel and flipped a small switch. York’s clammy finger tightened at the count of nine, squeezed at ten.
The ravening burst of energy that sprang from his gun expended itself harmlessly against an invisible screen surrounding the marble temple. Beyond it, rocks and trees shrivelled into a soot-black mist that drifted upward like vagrant smoke. The weapon’s force was that of subgamma and ultra-sound waves, able to shatter molecules to black shreds.
York desperately rammed on full power, never before used, and left it for a full minute. The opposing screen did not weaken in the slightest. York gasped. Even his own screen, he knew, would not have withstood that hell fury for that long. The Three Eternals, in the visi-screen, smiled scoffingly.
Sensing his own danger, York leaped for the controls. But at the same moment, some paralyzing force gripped his body, held him rigid. One of the Eternals was manipulating controls on his panel.
“Rash one!” came the telepathic taunt. “We have more command of natural forces that you could dream of! We are masters of twenty thousand years of science. Anton York, you have declared war on us. We should annihilate you on the spot, as we could easily do. But it would be beneath our dignity to destroy that which cannot harm us. Therefore, go with your life. But never again test our patience and strength!”.
Anton York’s ship eased off the ground, in the grip of some intangible force. Suddenly it was flung upward, as though by a Titan’s hand. York and Vera were thrown into a heap in a corner of their cabin, but the paralysis left them. York grasped a hand rail, half dragged himself toward the pilot board and quickly righted the ship. Then he helped Vera to her feet.