Page:Weird Tales v33n05 (1939-05).djvu/17

God! The awful glory of the sight!

We were fast approaching the moon, on its bright side. The curved, luminous shield stretched out until it filled the sky from horizon to horizon. What had been only a few moments before a fantastically near, tremendous heavenly orb, was become a landscape; but a landscape such as was never seen on Earth.

Brilliance beyond all power of description—the practically airless, arid desert reflecting the bright fury of the sun's rays clear as they traversed the empty ether. And yet, shadows—shadows huge and monstrous, knife-keen and goblinesque—shadows of those awful mountains of the moon, those dizzy declivities and craters fit for man's nightmares, but not his mortal seeing! This, then, is why I have headed this last short bit of my hopeless journal The End. This, and what comes after.

With unexpected ease, Le Noir's space-ship slowed and drifted like a cloud. Lower she swung; and Settled, easily as a falling feather, into the mouth of one of the black craters—and so on down—down. . . .

I thought we were going direct to that awful moon-center of which Le Noir had spoken. But for some reason, he delays bringing us to what I think of now as the ultimate Hell. This is because he wants to break us utterly, to weaken us all with suspense; and there are probably factors involved of which I cannot even dream. One thing I know: Valerie resists him with a strength which neither he nor any of her companions had expected. Each look that has passed between them in this last hour has been like the crossing of swords.

Well, as I said, Le Noir delayed our ultimate descent. The space-ship came to rest on a ledge only a little way below the surface of the moon. And he has left us, and gone on down the crater, which leads, he said, into the very center of the moon.

He opened the hatch of the ship, and heavy, damp, but quite breathable air poured in. What keeps it here inside the moon, since none to speak of is on the moon's surface? I asked him that, as he prepared to leave the ship. His answer was like the blow which I half expected to accompany it:

"Gravity, fool! The moon is hollow, I have told you. Having far greater viscosity than the atmosphere of Earth, toward the center the air is very dense—you will all suffer new pangs in descending. Be ready to accompany me when I come back. If you seek to escape—the way back to the surface is clear; but there is no air up there. Of course there is suicide, but it is not supposed to have God's blessing even on more blessed planets. While there is life—hope on! Hope, all of you, for the unspeakable joys of dwelling with ghouls and vampires——"

He laughed. I have never heard such laughter. On Earth it would be insane; but it fits this place well enough.

He went a little further down, and passed into a side tunnel; and as he went from sight, I swear that the serpentine look returned to him which he had when I first saw him, and then the shadows of wings extended from his cloak; so that he was both serpent and winged thing with the wings of a bat. I should call him Satan himself; but he has said that there are many hells in space—so perhaps there are many devils.

None of us will ever see any other place than this; but I pray to God that there may be in the universe as well, places that are bright and lovely, and as blest as this place is accursed!

This is the end of the journal, I know; but not the end it seemed to be. Here in this ghoul-haunted horror we have found—not hope, but courage; not escape, but in the very face of death, a glimpse of Paradise.