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Read Ebook: The Grave of Solon Regh by Stearns Charles A Eberle Joseph Illustrator
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Ebook has 83 lines and 5982 words, and 2 pages
The room had no windows, but there was light coming in from the great transparent dome of roof. A cheerful place, he thought, for a crypt. There were six coffins in the room, neatly arranged around its periphery. He wondered which one was Solon Regh's.
All of the biers were plain, untarnished metal--a silvery alloy he couldn't quite identify. Upon one of them there was a modest crest, or symbol. That one, he decided, must be the coffin of Solon Regh.
He was feeling a little ill. A headache from the altitude, he thought. Or perhaps he'd caught a touch of the fever. Better to get it over with and get out of here. All the pleasure of discovery was gone now.
He took out his array of chisels and went to work on the coffin, which yielded easily to his professional looter's touch. The lid was light and slid aside soundlessly.
George Seeling came face to face with Solon Regh. The relics of Regh the Wise seemed to be in perfect condition. Over all lay a semi-transparent coating of a waxy substance--the preservative, he supposed. The figure was as large as his own. The old race must have been much closer, genetically, to his own than the ghels.
But Seeling was not concerned with any of this. He flopped Solon Regh over on his belly without ceremony and examined the bottom of the coffin. It was no use. No treasure here. He did find something, however. The ring on Solon Regh's finger. He chipped off the preservative, slid the ring off and put it in his pocket. Then he examined the other coffins. Wives, perhaps, and dignitaries of court, these had been. There were both male and female. But no jewelry.
He searched the room carefully, but there was nothing to be found. It had not been their custom, then, to bury their treasures with the dead--or perhaps the ghels had taken it. No matter, he knew the futility of looking further.
When a race chose to hide its treasures, rather than try to take them along to the happy hunting grounds, they usually did a good job. He remembered searching in vain for a solid year in the catacombs of Neptune once.
His face was burning with some inner fire now; he knew that he must have a high fever. He felt much worse. But to go back empty handed!
And suddenly he knew that he would not.
He took the steps back down to the throne room three at a time, for he felt, strangely, that he must hurry. The ghels were still waiting for him there in the gloom. There seemed to be more of them now, but he didn't bother to count.
"I want eight of you," he said. "You are to come with me up to the crypts. I'm taking the coffin of Solon Regh back with me, and you are going to carry it. I don't want any arguments. I'll pay you whatever you want, but it's got to be done right away."
They were not a strong race, the ghels, and the box was without handles, but they finally got it to their shoulders. Twice coming down the spiraling staircases they slipped, and he cursed them furiously, then was amazed that he could be so distraught.
They carried it down to the throneroom and set it down. The big rotunda was full of ghels by this time; hundreds of them.
"What the hell is this?" George Seeling said, and his voice sounded thick to him. "If you're going to start trouble--I'll kill the first ghel that lays a hand on me or the coffin."
He waited for an answer. There was not a sound among the dark multitude of ghels. They watched him, sorrowfully.
"Well?" Seeling bellowed.
The ghel who had talked with him before said, "We are gathered here for a telling. Will you crouch there and hear us?"
"I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Please hear us."
Seeling looked around him. Better not to antagonize them at that, he supposed, since it seemed that they had no intentions, at present, of doing anything drastic.
He waited.
"Long ago," the ghel said, "there were the old ones. They were as gods, and knew great magic. All was happiness. But the magic was not great enough, for one day there came invaders from beyond the stars, and sprayed the cities with green fire that was so light that its touch could not be felt, and yet it killed in great numbers--and the rest it changed.
"Solon Regh, who was wise, took his family about him and hid in the tower behind air-tight doors where the green fire could not come. Many weeks he stayed there, with an air purifier to keep out the radiance, and let in fresh air, and at last the enemy left. The ones who were left had changed more and more, so that even in their heads they were affected, and could scarcely take care of themselves.
"Solon Regh, from behind his steel door, where the pure air was, sorrowed for us, and counseled us to pick up our lives as best we could. He did not dare come out because the radiance did not leave, but hung about the palace. We did not care any more. We knew the radiance would always be there, but it could not hurt us now. Solon Regh and his family did all they could for us, and remembered all the wonderful knowledge that we had forgotten. They tried to teach us, but we had forgotten how to learn, too."
"We? We?" George Seeling screamed. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, God!" George said.
"The Radiance is still in the buildings. That is what we tried to tell you before. But it is too late now. It has touched you."
"Let me out of here!" Seeling sobbed. "I won't be changed by any damned radiation. I'll go back to Earth. They'll help me. They'll know what to do. He-help me, dammit!"
"You will not go back," the ghel said. "I am sorry, but you really cannot go back like this; you will be more at home here from now on."
All the ghels looked at George Seeling with sad, limpid stares. They were silent. There wasn't any more to be said. Nothing that they could think of.
And George Seeling, squatting there, gazed back at them with big, saucer eyes.
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