The PEOPLE of the CRATER
A COMPLETE NOVELETTE
BY ANDREW NORTH
"Send the Black Throne to dust; conquer the Black Ones, and bring the Daughter from the Caves of Darkness." These werethe tasks Garin must perform to fulfill the prophecy of the Ancient Ones—and establish his own destiny in this hidden land!
CHAPTER ONE
Through the Blue Haze
Six months and three days after the Peace ofShanghai was signed and the great War of 1965-1970 declaredat an end by an exhausted world, a young man huddledon a park bench in New York, staring miserably atthe gravel beneath his badly worn shoes. He had beentrained to fill the pilot's seat in the control cabin of a fightingplane and for nothing else. The search for a niche incivilian life had cost him both health and ambition.
A newcomer dropped down on the other end of thebench. The flyer studied him bitterly. He had decentshoes, a warm coat, and that air of satisfaction with theworld which is the result of economic security. Althoughhe was well into middle age, the man had a compact graceof movement and an air of alertness.
"Aren't you Captain Garin Featherstone?"
Startled, the flyer nodded dumbly.
From a plump billfold the man drew a clipping andwaved it toward his seat mate. Two years before, CaptainGarin Featherstone of the United Democratic Forces hadled a perilous bombing raid into the wilds of Siberia to wipeout the vast expeditionary army secretly gathering there.It had been a spectacular affair and had brought the survivorssome fleeting fame.
"You're the sort of chap I've been looking for," thestranger folded the clipping again, "a flyer with courage,initiative and brains. The man who led that raid is worthinvesting in."
"What's the proposition?" asked Featherstone wearily.He no longer believed in luck.
"I'm Gregory Farson," the other returned as if thatshould answer the question.
"The Antarctic man!"
"Just so. As you have probably heard, I was halted onthe eve of my last expedition by the sudden spread of warto this country. Now I am preparing to sail south again."
"But I don't see—"
"How you can help me? Very simple, Captain Featherstone.I need pilots. Unfortunately the war has disposedof most of them. I'm lucky to contact one such asyourself—"
And it was as simple as that. But Garin didn't reallybelieve that it was more than a dream until they touchedthe glacial shores of the polar continent some months later.As they brought ashore the three large planes, he began towonder at the driving motive behind Farson's vague plans.
When the supply ship sailed, not to return for a year,Farson called them together. Three of the company werepilots, all war veterans, and two were engineers who spentmost of their waking hours engrossed in the maps Farsonproduced.
"Tomorrow," the leader glanced from face to face, "westart inland. Here—" On a map spread before him heindicated a line marked in purple.
"Ten years ago I was a member of the Verdane expedition.Once, when flying due south, our plane was caughtby some freakish air current and drawn off its course.When we were totally off our map, we saw in the distancea thick bluish haze. It seemed to rise in a straight linefrom the ice plain to the sky. Unfortunately our fuel waslow and we dared not risk a closer investigation. So wefought our way back to the base.
"Verdane, however, had little interest in our report andwe did not inves