CHAPTER XX

Children of Legend

"But my Lord Sugriva," argued Ramey desperately, "I see no reason why you should leave Earth _now_. Our battle is won. Ravana is dead, Vibhishana sits on the throne of Lanka and henceforth there will be peace between Gaanelians, Videlians, and the children of this planet. Your guidance and advice are needed if Earth's civilization is ever to attain great heights. Earth has need of you--"

But the blue-skinned Gaanelian shook his head sadly.

"No, Ramaíya. Earth needs no tutelage from an outside source. Vibhishana and I have pondered deeply, and our decisions agree. Our two planets established colonies here with the intention of sparing your young world the woes and hardships through which our civilizations passed.

"But our experiment was a failure--nor was this the fault of Earthmen, but ourselves. I was a weakling and a dreamer; one ambassador from Videlia proved himself a power-lusting tyrant. It was an evil example we set those whom we presumed to instruct. Therefore, we shall return to our own worlds, leaving Earth's children to work out their own destinies. With me shall go the 'new men,' for now, too late, I realize it was a dreadful wrong I did them when I made them neither man nor beast, but part one, part the other."

Vibhishana said soberly, "Sugriva speaks truly, my son. What great Plan governs the actions of all intelligent beings, I do not know. But this much is certain: that no one race should presume to set up rulership over all others. I am a son of cloud-cloaked Videlia, Sugriva of the desert world. To these planets, when the next spacevessel arrives some months hence, we shall return--forever. Nor shall men of our planets ever again set conquesting foot on Earth. That we pledge.

"Perhaps not again shall children of our three worlds meet until, in future ages, Earthmen have developed a culture equal to ours. Then, not as rulers and serfs but as equals all shall we form a solar trinity."

Ramey said, "It is not mine to argue with you. But what is your plan for us?"

"The decision is yours to make. You may stay here, if you so desire, or return to the future era whence you came. The time-machine waits below. You know the method of its operation."

Ramey stared at the huge idol standing on the dais before them. The great altar of Chitrakuta seemed to await his decision breathlessly, as did the girl whose hand touched his own. Ramey turned to Sheila. "Well?" he asked.

"We return," she said simply. "Isn't that what you want, Ramey?"

Ramey nodded. It was his own desire. To return to the world he knew best. He grinned and turned to the others.

"Well--that's it, then. All aboard, gang. Time-machine leaves on Track 3 in five minutes."

* * * * *

But curiously none stepped forward to join him and Sheila. Red stared at his companions impatiently.

"Well, what's the matter? Doc, are you ready?"

Dr. Aiken coughed apologetically.

"Sheila, my dear," he said to his daughter, "I--I am not returning with you. I am an old man. There is not a great deal of time remaining in the hourglass of my years. I would spend those last remaining sands seeing new things, learning secrets all men have longed to know. Sugriva has said I may return with him to Gaanelia. It is a temptation too great to resist. You--you understand, my dear?"

Sheila cried, "But if you don't return, daddy, then neither will we. Ramey and I will remain with you--"

"No!" the archeologist's voice was firm. "No, you _must_ return! Someone must carry back to the Twentieth Century a knowledge of what we have seen and done here in a forgotten age. You bear precious knowledge, vital information, to Earth's scientists. You alone can read the cipher of Angkor Vat, tell men whence it came and why, and where vanished its once mighty populace."

Ramey said, "We alone? But you speak as if Sheila and I were the only ones returning!"

Syd O'Brien spoke for the twins. He said, "I can't take Lake back to our time now, Ramey. The machine would set us in a desolate spot, perhaps in danger. And he is blind. Here he can receive medical care. Perhaps, later on, after Sugriva has lifted the veil from Lake's eyes--as he has said he can and will--we will join you again. But for the time being--Well, you see how it is."

"Then you, Red? You're surely coming with us?"

Red Barrett shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"Well, keed--I think maybe I'd better not. I asked Sugriva about Toots, here. He tells me she couldn't take a ride in the time-machine without being--well, without having happen to her what happened to Rudra. You see, she wouldn't have no true existence in the future. So--so I think I'll just stick around for a while. Me and Evavne is going back to Britain, where she come from. Maybe I can be some help to them folks of her'n. Like--" he grinned suddenly--"like teaching 'em to talk good English instead of that stuff they talk now."

"And you, Sheng-ti?"

The _bonze_ said quietly, "When Sugriva leaves, Ramey Winters, departs from Earth for many centuries the light of wisdom, peace and truth. These people, though they were born in a different era, are still my people. Someone must stay at Chitrakuta to help them re-establish themselves on a new footing. It is my clear and simple duty to be this one."

"Were the choice mine, Ramaíya," said Tauthus, "_I_ would visit that future world of thine. But I cannot. So, like Sheng-ti, I shall go to my people. Much have I learned here at Chitrakuta; much more will the Lord Sugriva teach me. Then will I hie westward to bring something of the Gaanelian culture to my race."

* * * * *

Thus told each member of the party his intentions. Nor would argument sway any from his decision. And so it was that, some time later, Sheila and Ramey stood alone beside the trap-way to the time-machine of Rudra. Their last farewells had been made, the last hand shaken. Unless in years to come others should make the journey.

"When you return," Dr. Aiken bade them anxiously, "read well and carefully the wall-graven scripts at Angkor Vat. Before we leave Chitrakuta we shall see that all this history is carven on the walls. That and much other knowledge, lest your memories fail you. Remember!"

"We will remember," promised Ramey. Then he handed Sheila into the metal cube out of which--was it days, weeks or a lifetime ago?--they had risen into the strange, stirring world of the past. The trapdoor closed above them with a _clang!_ of finality. Ramey moved to the lever which hurled the machine through Time ... pressed it....

* * * * *

When the needle had at last traversed the dial, betokening the end of their journey, Ramey climbed once again to the trapdoor which was the machine's exit. Cautiously he lifted it an inch ... then a foot ... then threw it back with a cry of gay relief.

"Empty, Sheila! The Japs have gone. I guess they got tired looking for us." He chuckled. "No wonder. After all, we were there a couple of weeks. Coming?"

He helped her from the cubicle. Then, remembering Sugriva's last instructions, he set the dial of the machine to its return position, hooked a length of fine wire about the control lever and spun the length of the wire through the trapdoor into the altar room wherein they stood.

"This is our key," he said, "to them. And theirs to us. The doorway to Chitrakuta is always open so long as it remains."

And he pulled the wire. They heard no sound, felt no tremor, but as if it were a wraith dissolving in weaving mists, the outline of the time-cube thinned ... wavered ... and disappeared. Only a length of fine wire, whose dangling end hung curiously taut in midair, lent reassurance that the way to another world was still open. Ramey coiled the wire and concealed it beneath the pediment of a statue. Then he rose, emotions strangely chaotic. A sadness was upon him at leaving comrades beside whom he had fought and laughed and lived a great adventure. But he was glad, too, to be back in a world he knew, a world he could understand....

A call from Sheila roused him from his brief reverie. "See, Ramey? This was one of the carvings which always puzzled us most. Its meaning was obscure--then. But now it is simple to read."

And she pointed to one of the huge scenes carven on the temple walls. The scene of a frightful battle, a battle being waged by apes strangely garbed in the habiliments of men and towering giants. One corner of the great stone tapestry showed a fleet of crowded ships rushing in to a harbor, still another showed an ape-human dying with a great wound in his breast, while beside him, loosing a lightning bolt from a gigantic bow, stood a man....

* * * * *

"Then they _did_ carve the record!" said Ramey hallowedly. "It--it gives me the creeps, Sheila. We just left them. We know they're still alive, and that this artistry is not yet even planned. But here it is--and here it has been for five thousand years. The story of the battle for Lanka."

"And its hero?" queried Sheila oddly. "Ramey--do you know the full meaning of this story? The earth legend which has grown up about it?"

"Legend? You mean there is a legend about _this_?"

"About _us_!" Comprehension, which had been dawning slowly in Sheila's eyes, now flamed sudden and complete. "I see it all now! All! But surely daddy must have--Yes! He did--at the end. That is why he insisted we must return to our time. To clear up the ancient mystery--"

"What legend?" repeated Ramey perplexedly. "It's all over my head, Sheila. I don't get it at all."

"Then listen! Does this make sense to you, Ramey? '_And there were in those days four companions, Rama, Bharata, and the twins, Lakshmana and Satrughna_--'"

"Hey! Those sound like the whacky handles we were tagged with at Chitrakuta! They called me 'Ramaíya,' and Lake was 'Lakshmana'--the smiling one--while Syd was 'Sidrughna'--the frowning one--"

"There would be slight changes," agreed the girl excitedly, "over a period of centuries. Pronunciation and spelling would change, of course. The legend goes on: '_Rama, by possession of an enormous Bow, formerly the dreaded weapon of the god Rudra, wins for a wife Sita, daughter of Janaka. Rama attracts the attention of a female demon, Rakshasi, and infuriated by his rejection of her advances, she inspires her brother Ravana with love for Sita._

"'_In consequence of this, the latter is carried off by him to his capital, Lanka. Rama sets out with his companions to her rescue. After numerous adventures they enter into an agreement with Sugriva, king of the monkeys, and with the monkey-general, 'Anuman_--'"[14]

[Footnote 14: The persistent legend of a monkey-leader named 'Anuman (or Hanuman) is one of the oldest and best-loved tales of Asiatic peoples. His name and a record of his deeds may be found in the ancient records of practically all Oriental sects.--Ed.]

"'Anuman!" repeated Ramey. "_A new man!_ So in the legend his fondest dream becomes his _name_? But what _is_ this legend, Sheila? An obscure folk-tale--?"

"It goes on," half-laughed, half-sobbed the girl, "to tell of the attack on Lanka ... the bridge built by the monkeys ... Ravana's death at Rama's hands! Everything is in it, Ramey--everything we have known and lived! An obscure folk-tale! It is anything but that. It is a tale from the _Ramayana_--one of the Sacred Books of the Hindu religion!

"You are--or were--the prototype of a hero worshipped by a quarter of a billion humans in our day ... the third greatest religion in the world. You, Ramey, are the god Rama!"

* * * * *

Ramey stared at her dazedly. "You mean," he said, "that the adventures through which we have just lived were not of our own making? That they happened before, ages ago in Man's history?"[15]

[Footnote 15: The reader is recommended to a closer examination of the _Ramayana_, sacred book of the Hindus, procurable in an inexpensive edition at almost any well-stocked library. The portion here reduced to its essentials is but one of many amazingly fascinating sections.

In connection with this, it is interesting to note that the god Rama is considered to be but one of the seven Avatars (or reincarnations) of the god Vishnu. Hindu theosophy admits of many things scoffed at by modern, practical science: reincarnation, demoniac possession and "invasion of other world creatures" being but a few.--Ed.]

"Yes, Ramey. Don't you see--that adventure has _always_ happened! This solves the argument daddy and Syd had about the immutability of Time. What things are, _were_, and always will be. Centuries ago, into ancient Chitrakuta came seven strangers from a future world. Having found their way into a Time which was not theirs, it had to be that when their Time came they must return to fulfill adventures written in the book of used-to-be.

"Your crashing here at Angkor Vat ... our escape in the time-machine ... these events had to take place in order that an ancient legend might be fulfilled. That was our predestined path, and there was never anything we could have done to change it. It was as stoppable as a glacier."

"And--and the others? Sheng-ti? Tauthus?"

Sheila's brows congealed. "I do not know--exactly. It is told that an ancient king of the yellow race, he whose name gave a mighty empire its name, was called 'Ching-tse.' And Tauthus of Cush--ancient Cush became Egypt, you know. And the Egyptian records claim their 'light-bringer' to have been a god named 'Thoth.'..."

* * * * *

But not now, nor soon, nor perhaps ever could these strange wonders be decided. Nor did this seem to Ramey Winters that they should linger longer, at this time, in the cold, forsaken walls of Angkor Vat. So gently he drew the girl from before the panel.

"We must go now, Sheila. There is much we must do here, but now is not the time to do it. Much may have happened since we left. War threatens Indo-China; for all we know war may have started since we left. We have the food and blankets Sugriva gave us. A long journey lies before us to Thailand. To friends and safety. We'd better get on our way."

So stepped the two from Angkor's lonely halls into the green-veiled sunlight of the tropics. Gray were the walls and spires they left behind, but grim no longer, nor menacing to two who knew their story. Someday, knew Ramey Winters, someday when war's insanity had died in mankind's bosom, they would return to read more fully the carven messages of friends they knew and loved. Someday....

But not now. Now they must leave gray Angkor and seek their future beyond the flaming jungle-lands. Long was the way, and dangerous perhaps; apes chattered in branches carpeted with moss; marsh and morass, wild beast and wilder man, these were the hazards they must pass.

Yet somehow they felt no fear. There was lightness in their hearts and in their steps as hand-in-hand they stepped forward to meet whatever fate might bring.