A Thing of the Past. John Russell Fearn

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СКАЧАТЬ million years! But that egg I found just couldn’t be—”

      “What egg?” Bill Masterson’s eyebrows went up.

      “I found an egg in that glacier wall and dug it out. Maybe you noticed the space in the glacier where I’d been busy?”

      “Frankly, no, and if I did I didn’t take particular heed.” The geologist’s face had become grim. “Where’s this egg now?”

      “In the garage. I’m hatching it out just to see what’s in it.”

      “You may be very horrified when you see what is in it. You surely know enough of geological history to realise that the things that existed eighty million years ago were huge and terrifying? The age of the dinosaurs, man!”

      “Yes, but— This couldn’t be a dinosaur. It’s an egg. It can’t mean anything more than a bird.”

      Bill Masterson sighed. “For your information, Cliff, the vertebrated animals of the Jurassic Age laid eggs. They did not procreate in the manner of the later, more refined creatures. If you take my advice you’ll smash up this egg from the glacier before things get too tough.”

      Cliff shook his head. “I’m too inquisitive to do that. If something horrible turns up I can very soon destroy it. But I’m certainly going to see that egg hatch.”

      “Very well.” The geologist gave a shrug. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

      “What about that deeper cavern, or canyon, which Cliff found?” Joan enquired, slowly becoming interested. “Any ideas on that, Bill?”

      “I’m afraid not. I think the buried rumbling may be from great internal activity, or it may be the action of a mighty underground ocean.” Bill pondered for a moment. “Yes, on reflection I think an ocean is the best theory. If it were internal fire, there’d definitely be more warmth coming up the gorge than there is.”

      “An underground ocean seems to suggest a whole world within the world,” Cliff said.

      “Is that so impossible? If part of the Jurassic Age could be buried, so might a great deal more of it, or even parts of other Ages. I can’t help wishing with all my heart that that shaft had never been opened by the explosion, Cliff.”

      Cliff grinned. “It was just one of those things, and I’ll be hanged if I see what you’re bothered about. Putting aside the scientific issue for the moment, what do we do with the site? Fill it in?”

      “Yes.” Masterson got to his feet. “As quickly as possible, too. Just in case there might be a volcanic upsurge that would blow half of England off the map. You don’t seem to realise that you’ve opened up a vent in this old planet of ours. The effect is not seen immediately, but it may cause a redistribution of internal pressures, and then anything could happen. Yes, get the shaft blocked as fast as possible. Concrete and liquid iron. That should hold things.”

      “And what about the scientists? They’ll want to have a look at this geologic masterpiece, won’t they?”

      “They can do it within the next week; you won’t have filled the shaft in by then—” Masterson glanced at his watch. “Well, I’ve got to be going, but I thought you’d like the facts before I turn in the official report. I’ll tip off the scientists to come and have a look if you like.”

      Cliff nodded. “Do that. Tomorrow I’ll have the boys start the sealing process.”

      On that the geologist departed, and Cliff stood thinking, gazing through the wide-open window towards the garage at the bottom of the garden.

      “You thinking what I’m thinking?” Joan asked him, drifting to his side.

      “I don’t know. It just crossed my mind that I’m sticking to that egg, no matter what. I can’t see what Bill’s getting goose pimples about. If there’s anything queer in the egg, it can be put to sleep instantly.”

      “No guarantee it will even hatch.”

      With a mutual thought in their minds and their meal over, they strolled out through the kitchenette door into the garden. The evening was hot and misty with a promise of thunder to come. These were everyday phenomena, though. In the garage there was a thing of the past, and down under the Earth there was also a region upon which man had never set eyes for eighty million years until Cliff had descended the shaft.

      “No harm in seeing how the egg’s going on,” he said as he and Joan reached the garage doors.

      “No harm at all. That’s why we’re out here, isn’t it?”

      Cliff opened the doors and looked on the floor at the rear of his two-seater car. The egg was in the cardboard box as he had left it, the lid removed. Nothing had happened yet, anyway.

      “Perhaps not warm enough,” Joan said.

      “I think it’s just right, dear. The period from which this egg came, far as I can remember, was mild and humid—much as it is tonight. The conditions are quite favourable. Don’t forget it has to thaw out from the glacier as well.”

      Joan stooped and sniffed at the shell. “Doesn’t smell at all, does it?”

      “No reason why it should. It was probably quite fresh when the ice or whatever it was caught up. We’ll leave it for a day or two and see what happens.”

      For an instant it was in Cliff’s mind to put his foot into the egg there and then, so strongly did Bill Masterson’s sombre warning cross his memory; then he shook his head to himself and closed the garage doors adamantly. He turned to find Joan looking into the misty sky. The sun was hidden in the heat haze low down on the horizon, so it was no effort to stare at the heavens for a prolonged period.

      “What is it?” Cliff asked, expecting to see some aerobatics by a jet plane.

      “That! I’m trying to make out what it is. Some sort of noiseless plane, isn’t it? I’ve heard that there is one on the secret list—”

      Cliff looked long and earnestly, and at last he found the object that Joan’s sharper eyes had already detected. It was circling at a height of perhaps three hundred feet, making no sound whatever. Occasionally it dived; then it climbed again with the velocity of an anti-aircraft shell. In some ways it looked like an airplane. In other ways it looked like a bird— Bird? Impossible! There couldn’t be a bird of that size, not even the biggest eagle ever known. Why, at close quarters it must be gigantic. It was large enough even seen from three hundred feet below.

      “What in the world is it?” Joan demanded at last. For answer Cliff fled into the house and returned after moment or two with powerful field glasses. Quickly he focussed them as he stared aloft.

      “For the love of heaven!” he gasped. “It’s—it’s a pterodactyl! A flying lizard!”

      “Huh?” Joan looked blankly at his startled face; then he thrust the glasses into her hands.

      “Look for yourself! You’ve seen drawings of pterodactyls as much as I have. If that isn’t one I’m crazy!”

      Joan looked, only to confirm Cliff’s opinion. The flying horror was partly like a bat, partly like a lizard and having a gun-grey body of apparently tremendous СКАЧАТЬ