Part 2

“That queer snake-like thing turned and in a flash had straightened out in a line and shot down on us like a bullet. It hit the top of our right wing and went through as though the wing were a spider web. Then it struck one of our stay wires and was split long ways for a foot or more. It clung to the wire, thrashing about, a blood of that pale greenish color oozing out. When I was ready to go out on the wing and try to get it, it fell on the lower plane and was blown off. It fell below to the plant island over which we are flying now. If it had struck either of us, it would have been death. A short distance more and we will make the dive for earth as our oxygen supply is getting low. I have been catching stray pieces of the plants of which the islands are made and have a bunch packed in the bottom of my cockpit. There is also a large bunch caught in the wires of our left wing and several small bunches caught in other places. These might hold fast until we get down. I have been wondering if the change of pressure on the plant and animals--if we can catch any animals to bring down--will cause them to contract. The effect on them should be just the opposite of the effect on the fish that have been brought up from two miles or more under the sea; when they came up, the pressure was so much less that some swelled up and exploded. I believe these animals would be pressed together more if brought to the denser air of the earth’s surface. This plant up here might be made good use of below at some future time and if--of all the sights--what monsters! What fierce fighting monsters. Look at the great gashes they are tearing in each other. They can’t last.

“Oh, I forgot, you below--we just turned a half circle around the end of a medium sized floating island and have come upon one of the most awful battles between two of the biggest and fiercest of monsters. One is like a large flying alligator, except that it has a huge beak and large bat-like wings. The other is shaped like an octopus, but has flat arms and two large balloon-like appendages on its back. It has a hellish beak. They are closed in one biting, clawing and choking mass. We are circling them and watching. The flying alligator just laid open one of the devil-fish of the air’s balloons. It shrank as though it were full of gas. Now they are whirling on the air so fast you can hardly tell what is happening. The alligator has lost the use of one of its wings. The octopus has wrapped several of its arms around it. They are starting to sink. They’re dropping, two of the arms, bitten off. Everything up here is that sickly green, both monsters are that color and they are bleeding the green blood --if it is blood. They are now covered with gashes all over their bodies. They can’t last much longer. There goes the other balloon. It shrinks--now they are falling.

* * * * *

“They don’t stop fighting. We are following them down and still circling around them. The two fighting air demons have fallen on the big island below us. They are hardly able to move. The alligator devil is now on top and rending the octopus to shreds. Its days are over. The flying alligator--for I don’t know what else to call it--is victor, but it will never be able to fly again. One wing is completely torn in shreds and the other is not much better. Its body is full of big wounds. The din of their screams and clashing of their beaks must have been awful. Where they came from or what they were fighting about, we do not know. It was one of the most terrific and most awe-inspiring sights, man ever witnessed.

“The flying alligator has risen on its hind legs and is trying to lunge itself into the air, but it can only flutter like a broken-winged bird. It is giving out its cry, as we can see by the motion of its beak.

“Dex shut off the motor for an instant and drifted close over its head. It uttered a piercing scream like a thousand wild cat whistles, and lunged up for us. I hate to think what would have happened if it had been able to fly. I believe it would have rent us in pieces in a second. We are leaving here right now, for Dex has pointed out another flying alligator about a mile away, which is coming this way. It must be answering the wounded one’s cries. It is traveling fast and coming from the north. We can see its giant, bat-like wings beating the air and it rises and falls at each stroke. We are speeding westward and as soon as we reach the edge of this extra large floating island over which we are flying, we will dive for the earth. We can not see the edge, but it cannot be over a mile or so. We have left the wounded flying alligator about a half mile back, and the other monster has already reached it and has circled above it once.

“God, it has turned and is headed after us, its huge wings beating faster than before. We must reach the edge and dive, for it travels twice as fast as our sluggish-acting machine. I am not scared, for I can see the edge about two miles ahead and we will reach it before the demon can overtake us. Another has dropped from above where the wounded alligator is and it, also, is now headed after us. Miles above the earth and being chased by two hideous monsters. Have you ever noticed birds flying? When they beat their wings downwards, they not only go forward, but partly upward as well, and when they raise their wings for another stroke, they sink a little instead of keeping a straight course ahead. That is the way these demons fly. Dex is giving our machine all it will take.

“The two demons are going fast, but we will reach the edge before they can catch us. God help us, another monster and straight ahead. We can not go that way and must turn south or north. No, not north for I see two coming from that direction. We are nearly surrounded and our only hope is south. I see the edge south, but it is a mile farther away than west. But we will make it. I don’t see any of the demons coming from that direction. Our machine is roaring at full speed, but we are not making over fifty or sixty miles in this rarefied air. The demons of this upper air are flying twice as fast and now there are nearly a dozen close on our trail and swiftly gaining.... We are near the edge and our danger is over. A minute more and we would have been lost, for now there are two monsters in front of us. We are surrounded, but we will reach the edge and will head down like a bullet before they can get near enough to head us off. Their screams are bringing other monsters from all directions.

“Just passed one of those hideous flying devil-fish and see another ahead and above us. We are just at the edge and are tipping down for our long dive. Will be with you in a few---- Dex, Dex, look out for the devil-fish. For God’s sake, look, Dex---- Oh, God, too late-- We are done. Our propeller is shattered, we are falling. Look out below-- No, we have fallen on the edge of the island. We are tearing through. No we have stopped. God, we are in a fix. The devil-fish flung itself at us and into our propeller and wrecked it and blocked the controls and we fell straight down. We are within a few hundred feet of the edge, the weight of the machine has sunk us until we rest in a sloping crater about fifty feet deep. The monsters are arriving and flying in circles above us. Our motor is quiet and when we raise our receivers, the screams and snapping of their giant beaks almost deafen us. Our only hope now is to reach the edge and trust ourselves to our safety parachutes.”

For several minutes the horns were quiet and the people jammed around them listening for further word from the two men in the void above. They whispered together in low under-tones and every minute or so their eyes traveled upward in an attempt to pierce the blind of the miles distance. But in vain. At last--it seemed hours, though it was only a few minutes--the voice came again.

“We took our parachutes from their holders on the side of the machine and started up to the top of the sink-hole we are in. The monsters began to come closer as we neared the top and one made a dive for us, so we retreated to the machine. They seem to be afraid to come into this pit we are in. We found a place on one side of the pit where the vegetable has been pulled until it has pulled apart and we can see below. We are going to this hole now and enlarge it sufficiently to enable us to drop through--all is clear below--so good-bye, but watch for us to come sailing down soon. We are carrying oxygen tanks with us to breathe.”

The voice ceased and the crowd began to watch above for any specks that might turn out to be the two men and their parachutes. Many minutes passed, then the voice came, a voice filled with a tone of despair and terror.

* * * * *

“They got poor Dexter. He went first, after we had enlarged the hole, and before he had dropped five hundred feet a dozen of the monsters were after him. Helpless in the parachute, they dived on him and dragged him up to the top of the island and tore him to shreds. Now they are screaming and snapping their beaks above this pit and are swooping nearer and nearer. Their taste of blood seems to have made them wilder. I will fight them from the cockpit and if I can hold out until night, I might drop through the hole and escape in the darkness. I have broken a spar loose for a club. They are coming closer. I struck at that one. It just missed my head. They are gathering in a bunch. They are diving for me in one mass. I’m lost--Good-bye.”

A shriek of a man in mortal agony and terror rang out in the air, followed by a shriek from the crowd. Then all was still. The people knew all was over in the far upper air. Men stood gazing upward, ghastly white, while women buried their faces in their hands and wept.

A dull thud was heard at the far side of the infield and people began to gather there on a run. A hole showed where something had fallen with enough force to bury itself. Hurriedly digging, they unearthed an oxygen tank, one of the tanks that Kidwell and Dexter had taken up with them. A cry from some people as they pointed aloft drew thousands of eyes in that direction. Fluttering and falling, something was coming down. Several hands grabbed it as soon as it came within reach. One uttered a cry and let go. He held up his hands in horror. They were wet with fresh blood.

A broken and torn part of an aeroplane wing, spattered with red blood, fell. Kidwell and the aeroplane must have been torn to pieces by the demons of the far upper air, and the tank and pieces of the plane scattered over the edge of the floating vegetable island, must have fallen to earth.

Another shout and once more all looked aloft. The air was full in all directions with thousands of fluttering pieces that looked like paper. When they fell among the crowd a shout of surprise went up.

“Money--Money--One dollar bills.”

Over the ground for miles around the Fair Grounds there fell a shower of one dollar bills. This was the last thing ever heard or seen of the two men and the aeroplane.

A few weeks later Pemberton and the President of the State Fair were talking in the President’s office. The President spoke:

“I have had two different planes up since Kidwell and Dexter were lost. The men went armed with shot guns and prepared for trouble. They were unable to find any upward current of air and they cruised all around in search of it. I am informed, though, that such a current would not necessarily always be in the same place, else it might stop altogether, just like winds near the earth. I have given up hope of anybody reaching the scene of the awful tragedy above.”

“If there ever was an awful tragedy above,” Pemberton added. The President looked at him in blank surprise.

“What?”

“I say if there ever was an awful tragedy above--if Kidwell and Dexter ever did get over two or three miles high.”

“What? Don’t you think that Kidwell and Dexter were killed by the monsters many miles above the earth, as they described? Why do you think they weren’t?”

Pemberton slowly answered:

“I don’t know what to think. There is no reason for my doubting the truth of their death miles above the earth. I have gone over it all hundreds of times, yet I can not make up my mind whether far above float the remains of two of the bravest men, or whether far away on the earth’s surface are two of the slickest rascals that ever lived. Did what Dexter described really happen or did they fly above out of our sight and concoct the story? Did they cast down an oxygen tank, smear blood on a piece of plane that they might have taken with them for the purpose, and cast it down to fool us? A small cut on a finger might have furnished the blood, and they might have cast down part of the stolen money. Why did only one dollar bills come down? Where are the half-million dollars of large bills? They could be floating far above with the wrecked plane. Where is the upward whirlwind? Still, it might have moved or died out. We might have listened to one of the most awful death struggles, or we might have been the victims of one of the cleverest jokes ever played on the public. And the men escaped with half a million dollars. Who knows?

THE END

[Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the Winter Edition, 1928 issue of _Amazing Stories Quarterly_ magazine.]