Avon Fantasy Reader No. 9 — page 31: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“Could it be some sort of searchlight?” “Possibly. It’s apparently a mirror of some sort, but what it reflects, and why, I can’t say. It must have something to do with the ventilator, though.” “Yes, that seems clear enough. Doc, why mightn’t the sphere up there be some sort of light-sensitive cell that responds to a change in the intensity of this light and then controls the pumps by a sort of key-note, as we saw last night?” | ee | | “It sounds plausible enough, Jack, but why did that flame appear, and what made %t sing? Maybe, though, that part of its radiation that isn’t light has something to do with it. It is certainly beyond my experience.” “Tll say so! Let’s put en a bit more speed. I’m anxious to see what the thing really is.” As we drew nearer to the bottom of the shaft, we could see that the seeming pool was indeed a huge parabolic reflector. Its surface was of a queer metal such as we had never before seen—apparently self-luminous, «| and capable of taking and retaining a high polish. Aside from its own radi- ance, it reflected the crimson light that poured from a large globe of the same metal, placed at its focus. This light-source was covered partially by a lead shutter, which revolved slowly, apparently in the same period as the planet itself, and controlled the strength of the radiation. It was akin to our own smaller searchlights and parabolic reflectors, but cleverer and better de- veloped. So engrossed had we been with our examination that we had not noticed our surroundings. Now, looking up, we found that the mirror-lay in a deep bronze bowl, firmly bolted to the rock, in which the pit terminated. Above us, halfway to the rim of the bowl, a narrow balcony ran around the sides of this giant’s cup of light, on which the inclined plane ended. From it several small doors opened, as well as a great peaked gate of metal with the port of bluish transparent metal, such as the great gates of the ventilator had had. This stood half open, showing part of a jagged rocky ceiling that glowed « faintly in crimson light that flooded up from below. And everywhere the dust lay thick. : I ran out on the broad balcony that surrounded the outside of the bowl. Great cables anchored the cup to the rock of the ceiling, built to withstand the fearful gales that must result when the powerful pumps of the ventilators drew the foul air from this hidden underworld and hurled back the pure air of the outer planet. No wonder the ventilators worked only at night, for were they to act during the day, any high-flying aircraft that the builders of this world possessed must surely be dashed against the rough ceiling unless they <ept to the lower levels. It was remarkable to me that the gray dust should cling so long, even though the interior of the bowl was almost entirely shel- tered from the wind. Leaning over the waist-high railing, I looked down at the city beneath, a real city this time, rising in a steep pyramid from the smooth 29 =cComrebvooks,com