Into the Green Prism Read online

  How could I recognize it? Not a sound had come to us from the lips of those microscopic beings, not a sound from the miniature musicians. And yet I knew, could have sworn, it was the same tune they had played! It was not so astounding that Ramon should have played it. I had abundant proof that, by some mysterious psychological phenomenon, he had been attuned to, if not actually (in spirit of course) a part of, the scenes I had witnessed. I had even seen him muttering the words of the chant and songs as if he knew them by heart, and it was no more remarkable that he should have known the tune, should have been able to render it upon his violin or his Quena.

  But that I, who had merely seen, to whom everything was strange, new and utterly foreign, should have recognized the music, was little short of miraculous.

  But there are many things which happen that are unaccountable and, pondering upon this, I fell again into a brown study, the while I remained dimly conscious of the distant strains of the music in my ears.

  Then, abruptly, the music ceased. The next instant I leaped to my feet, startled, alert. Surely I had heard Ramon call, or had it been the cry of some nightbird? The next moment my door was burst open and Ramon flung himself into the room, wet, dishevelled, wild-eyed, excited.

  "Santisima madre de Dios?" he cried, relapsing into Spanish as he always did when greatly excited or under emotional stress. "Gracias a Dios, the miracle has happened, amigo! It is as good as done! It is accomplished! To-morrow, if God wills, I shall clasp my Kora in my arms! But come, come instantly, amigo mio! Come that you may see the miracle yourself, that you may not think me raving, mad! For the love of God come! Dios en cielo, was ever such happiness vouchsafed to man before?"

  Seizing me by the arm, babbling in English, Spanish and Quichua, he dragged me to the door, into the drenching rain, towards his hut. Too amazed to resist, too astonished even to think of seizing my rubber poncho or a hat, wondering if he really had gone mad, wondering still more what had occurred, what it was all about, I stumbled, dripping wet, into his shack.

  Ramon sprang forward and pointed dramatically at the table. "Behold!" he cried. "Behold the miracle that leads me to eternal happiness and makes Kora mine!"

  I gasped, stared wide-eyed, incredulous, and sank speechless into a chair. I was still at a loss to know what Ramon was driving at, yet what I saw was enough to bowl me over. Upon the table, gleaming dully in the dim light of the camp lamp, was a great, spherical, golden object a foot or more in diameter. Covering its entire surface was an elaborate, deeply-incised design, and from side to side, it was pierced by a neatly drilled hole. In every way it was the exact duplicate of one of the minute golden beads, but hundreds of times larger.

  Where, how, had Ramon secured it? What did it mean? What did he refer to when he spoke of the "miracle"? What had this mass of wrought gold to do with Kora?

  I was not to be left long in doubt. Ramon, wildly excited, was trying to explain.

  "It is the Manabinite—the prism!" he cried. '"Here, upon this table, was the first small prism I made. It was here, left as it was when last we used it. Before it was a tiny bead of gold no larger than a pin's head.

  "To-night I sat there—where you now sit—playing upon my violin, playing a tune that had come to me, that was humming in my brain. It did not seem right played on the violin; the instrument seemed unsuited to it, so I tried the Quena. And as I played, my thoughts were all of Kora, of our great, eternal love; of my sadness, my hopelessness. There before me lay the prism, in it I could see the golden bead, magnified, enlarged, Slowly over me came hatred, detestation for the thing, for the prism that could bring the image of my Sumak Nusta before my eyes to haunt and torture my soul. Perhaps it was the hand of God-Perhaps the emotion in my heart—I know not what— made me forget the tune, which caused me to end the melody with a long-drawn, peculiar note. Dropping my Quena I sprang forward, intent on hurling the accursed crystal aside, maddened at thought of the suffering it had caused me. But as my hand shot forward. I yelled with pain. Where I had thought there was nothing, my hand had struck upon solid matter. Valgame Dios! What I had thought was but the image of the tiny bead, was real!"

  "You mean?" I demanded. "You—"

  Ramon interrupted me. "The miracle had happened!" he repeated. "The magnified image of that tiny bead had materialized! By some magic the bead itself, its very substance, had been transferred, enlarged, magnified bodily. It is incredible, beyond belief, supernatural! But there lies the proof. The little bead has vanished. There is its transformation! And, amigo mio, believe it or not, the prism itself has vanished— dissipated into thin air!"

  Had Ramon gone mad? Had I heard aright? His statement, uttered jerkily, excitedly, was utterly beyond belief. Yet there was that great sphere of sculptured gold. Unsteadily, not knowing just what to expect, I rose, approached the table and extended my hand towards the gleaming mass. I had half-expected to find nothing, to find it was merely the projected, magnified image of a tiny bead. When I felt solid metal under my fingers, when I was forced to realize the gold was real, I actually trembled with the amazement of the thing. Was it possible that by some weird, unaccountable means the bit of Manabinite had transformed the little bead of gold to the golden ball under my fingers? Speechless with wonder I examined the table, passed my bands over it. Aside from the big gold sphere it was bare. But no, I must qualify that statement. Upon my finger tips was a gritty white powder, perhaps something spilled there by Ramon. But there was no trace of the crystal prism or of the original small bead.

  Ramon was watching me intently, breathlessly. "Are you convinced?" he asked, when at last I gave up my search. "Do you believe me now?"

  "I must!" I cried. "And yet—yet it is—why a physical impossibility. It is impossible for an object to be transformed to larger size by means of a bit of transparent mineral. It would be impossible by mechanical means. It's a law of nature. There was only an immeasurable amount of gold in that minute bead. In this sphere there are—scores—probably a hundred pounds of metal. Why, man alive, you, a professor of physics, cannot believe that definite amount of matter can be increased a thousand times and more without adding anything to it."

  "God knows how it is done," he exclaimed. '"All I know is that it has been done. And to me it seems no more impossible than many of the other things we have seen. Is it any more impossible than those tiny people? Any more impossible than to see atoms? And I care not a jot how or why it was brought about as long as it gives me my Kora!"

  "Even if it did happen, I fail to see how it helps you in your love affair," I said.

  "What!" cried Ramon. "You don't see? Por Dios, but you are stupid! Don't you see, mi amigo, that I can do for Kora what I have done for that tiny bead; that I can transform her to a normal-sized woman? To-morrow, as soon as day dawns, I shall do so. An instant later she will stand beside me, glorious, beautiful—my own forever!"

  "In that case you will make her very miserable." I remarked, feeling still that he might be mad, for his words were assuredly those of a madman.

  "Do you imagine that she could be happy when all her people—her subjects, remain microscopic, invisible?"

  "No, I, shall do the same for them all," cried Ramon. "I shall focus the prism upon the village, and by its magic, its miraculous power, bring the people, the village, the temple—everything—to normal size."

  "How do you know it will not utterly destroy them?” I asked. "It occurs to me that a human being, suddenly and by some unknown power increased— many hundreds of times—in size might not withstand the transformation. And how can you control their size? They might be enlarged to gigantic proportions."

  "Madre de Dios; you are right!" he cried, throwing himself upon the couch, in despair. "I must wait must experiment, must learn to control the thing. I must test it upon some living creature."

  "And now, Ramon, for Heaven's sake, be calm an sensible and tell me just how this 'miracle,' as you call it, happened. We know it is not a miracle. It must be explicable. We have seen the
beads—countless objects—magnified by the prism, but nothing has ever before been bodily enlarged, physically magnified. What brought about this incredible effect?"

  "My music!" was his astounding reply. "That la note upon the Quena. And now I know the secret of those cyclopean structures that have always puzzles the world. They were once small—built by normal sized, or possibly miniature, stone blocks. And then, then by means of a prism and a musical note, they were transformed to titanic proportions."

  I could not restrain my laughter. "Nonsense!" I cried. "This thing has taken possession of your senses. It is marvelous, miraculous enough, and I do not blame you. But to assume that the pre-Incan structures—piffle, man! And how on earth can a musical note bring about such a thing?"

  "I cannot say," admitted my friend. "But I assume it was owing to a certain vibration. As I told you long ago, and as you should know, everything in this world—and perhaps in the next as well—is due to vibrations. The Manabinite magnified objects—increased the vibrations of light. Is it so astounding, so incredible that, if the molecules, the atoms of the prism— were set into violent motion by the note of the Quena, that the altered, magnified light waves might be fixed, transformed to atomic waves? That would account for the disintegration of the prism. In performing the miracle, it exhausted, expended itself. And as for your statement regarding the physical impossibility of increasing matter without adding to it, that, I say is 'piffle! What is matter? An aggregation of atoms, of protons and electrons, nothing more. And how do we know what electrons, protons, atoms, may not be so altered, so increased by such a medium as Manabinite that the so-called matter will be increased? But what difference does it make? I'm tired of trying to solve miracles by scientific reasoning. I know it's been done. What has been done once can be repeated. And I intend to repeat it, to win my Kora. Nothing else in the world matters to me."

  I had been thinking deeply. If, as I knew, a certain note, a certain vibratory wave of sound, could utterly destroy and disintegrate an object—even a building or a bridge, then, after all, was it not equally possible that an object could be produced—conjure up so to say, by means of a certain wave? It was a poor rule that did not work both ways, and I for one could not see why such a thing was not within the bounds of scientific reason. Naturally, the object produced must be built up of matter from the object that was destroyed. And was it not possible, even probable, that, the Manabinite acted as some sort of an intermediary to transform the molecules of the destroyed object into a new object? Granted that was so, then if, as we knew, the Manabinite magnified the object so immensely, was it not possible that the new form would be produced in the dimensions of the magnification? After all, as Ramon had so often pointed out, we know very little of the properties of vibratory waves. Light, heat and other waves are merely variations of the same waves producing varying phenomena under varying speeds of vibrations, so was it not possible that the molecular or other waves—whatever they might be called—that were actuated by the note of the Quena, and which destroyed one bead and created another, were the same as the light waves that rendered visible a vastly enlarged image of the bead? It was all an involved, a hypothetical matter, but the more I thought about it the less preposterous and inexplicable it appeared. And no matter what the solution, no matter what the cause or the effect, the unalterable fact remained that it had occurred. But if, as Ramon thought and as was undoubtedly the case, the phenomenon had been produced by a certain note upon his Quena, could he reproduce that note so as to repeat the phenomenon?

  "Do you know what particular note resulted in your miracle?" I asked him. He smiled. "I do not know which particular note it was," he replied, "but I do know what combination of notes—what bar of music. contained that note. Would you care to hear it?"

  "No, no!" I cried hastily, as Ramon reached for his Quena. "Good Lord, man, you must be careful! If you should strike that note when we were in range of the prism, we might be killed or enlarged to giants. For heaven's sake, don't start any experiments without taking every precaution."

  Ramon grinned, the happiest expression I had seen on his face since morning. "You forget there's no prism here," he reminded me. "But I realize the truth of what you say. I must be very careful. However, as soon as it is daylight, I am going to start experimenting. I shall take that best prism—"

  "No, you will not," I interrupted. "If your experiment works, you will lose the prism—it will vanish as did the one here. Then you could never see Kora, and you'd have no chance to experiment further. If you're bound to experiment, try your tests on the small pieces of Manabinite. If it works on one, it will work on another."

  "Thanks, amigo mio, for reminding me," he said. "In my excitement, I forgot that the crystal is destroyed. But I must test it upon living creatures—upon ants and bugs. Then, if they survive, I will try it upon small animals—upon vertebrates."

  "And if they do not survive, even if it is a complete failure as far as living organisms are concerned, you have at least discovered a means of becoming a multimillionaire in a day. Think Ramon—" I laughed at the thought, "think of placing a worthless diamond, a mere chip, before your prism, playing a note on a Quena, and instantly possessing a diamond weighing several pounds! Or of transforming a pennyweight of gold dust to a gunnysack full of nuggets! Talk about the ancient alchemists or Aladdin's lamp! But of course you'd have to acquire your riches all at once. There is no more Manabinite after you have exhausted what we have here."

  CHAPTER XI

  Needless to say there was no sleep for us that night. There was far too much to discuss, and we talked over the matter and discussed it from every angle and every viewpoint. For one thing, I was very glad to see that Ramon's scientific interests had been aroused, that he had, temporarily at least, sidetracked his love affair, and that he was no longer morose, miserable and disheartened. Once more he was his old self—keen, alert, vivacious, thinking and reasoning clearly; once more he was the thoroughly practical scientist.

  In a general way his views agreed with my own regarding the explanation of the phenomenon. But he put it slightly differently. "I have felt all along;," he declared, "that the magnifying powers of the prism of Manabinite were due to its optical peculiarities. You may remember that I told you so when I first discovered the prismatic form and its powers. If it had been purely optical, the refraction of light rays from an object, then the lens would have shown equally remarkable peculiarities. But the lens possessed little more magnifying power than ordinary glass or crystal. It was due, I felt, to some unknown, mysterious vibratory waves akin to light waves, but wholly distinct. There were several very remarkable features about it. First: the way in which the Manabinite itself became invisible when the enlarged image was viewed, although perfectly visible if seen from any other angle. In the second place, the remarkable way in which the enlarged image stood out. It never appeared as if it were in the prism; it seemed as if it actually existed as an independent image suspended in air several inches back of the crystal. You, yourself, spoke of this. You said—if I remember your words correctly—that it looked 'as if you could pass your hands completely around it.' In other words, I believe—and my belief is now confirmed—that the images we viewed were actual matter. That, by means of the prism and the mysterious waves which it collects and sends out acting for those waves, much as a galena or carborundum crystal serves to answer radio waves—that, through the medium of the Manabinite as I say, actual matter is transmitted. By that I do not mean that an object is moved from its place and enlarged when placed before a quiescent prism of the mineral, but that an attenuated portion of it, an aura or a phantom or some material portion of which we know nothing—is transmitted and magnified and that in so doing, some certain portions of the Manabinite are incorporated with it. Very well, assuming I am right, then it is but a step, so to speak, from transmitting that shadowy substance to transmitting the entire substance. Obviously that step is taken by exciting the mineral by a certain note or sound wave. And jus
t as the substance of the Manabinite in line with the plane of transmission becomes invisible under ordinary conditions, so, under stress of extreme vibration, the entire mass disappears leaving the transmitted object permanently enlarged. If my reasoning is correct, there is doubtless somewhere, another sound vibration, which would cause the opposite effect and would restore everything to its normal status. But that, amigo, does not interest me. If I succeed in establishing that living organisms are not injured by the process, and if I discover the secret of producing transmitted bodies of any desired magnification, then will I be content and happy beyond words, for Kora, my beloved princess, will no longer be unattainable."

  "No doubt you are right," I agreed. "But if you materialize all those Indians at once, we may find them far from desirable neighbors. I think, Ramon, that if you arrive at the point where you decide to experiment with the princess, that you had best save a prism for future use, and when she materializes, ask her advice about bringing the rest of her race to normal size."

  Ramon laughed. "Perhaps that's a good idea," he agreed. "But personally I should have no fears of the Indians. They would scarcely molest their princess's lover. And do you know?" he chuckled again. '"Have you thought of the interesting and peculiar status we would occupy if they were to appear here as full-sized men and women? Why, we would be regarded as the interlopers, as the outsiders, and as those tiny people have never seen a white man, we would be as great curiosities to them as they are to us. However, there is much to be done, amigo mio. The sun is rising. Very soon now I will know if my dream is to come true, or if I am doomed to lifelong bitter disappointment and sorrow."

  I need hardly confess that I was as deeply interested in the result of Ramon's experiments as was he. But I still retained more of my customary composure and common sense than did my temperamental friend, and I insisted upon a hearty breakfast before attempting anything. By the time we had finished, the rain had ceased and the sun was breaking through the lowering clouds.