a definite tinge of purple. With the appearance of the
purple hue there came a strange and swiftly increasing agony, a
torturing vibration that seemed to be tearing every atom in their bodies
asunder.
They were within ten yards of the arch when Helen fell. Blake grabbed
her up in his arms and stumbled on. There was no longer enough oxygen in
the air to even breathe. Blake's lungs were on fire. Every cell in his
body seemed vibrating in unbearable torment.
It was all that he could do to struggle up on the low platform. He
staggered across the space and under the arch. It took the last shred of
strength in his tortured body for him to lift his hand and pull the
black lever down into place.
Its action was instantaneous. The agony of the purple mists was blotted
out in a surging wave of mighty force that swept Blake and Helen up and
away through a Spaceless universe where black chaos reigned awesomely
supreme. There was a long terrible moment of hurtling through distances
inconceivably vast. Blake's brain reeled in nausea.
Then suddenly all motion ceased and everything was normal again. There
was firm grassy ground under his feet and a cool breeze was blowing in
his face.
He opened his eyes and saw the gray half-light of early dawn. After the
first swift look around him he sighed in mighty relief. To his left was
the familiar skyline of Fifth Avenue. To his right was Central Park
West. They were somewhere in Central Park, safe again in their own
world.
And somewhere in that other world beneath the twin purple suns, the time
mechanism of the silver gate should even now be releasing the explosive
that would forever blot out all trace of the evil handiwork of Zehru,
cosmic fisher of Xollar.
Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from _Astounding Stories_ February 1932.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and
typographical errors have been corrected without note.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Zehru of Xollar, by Hal K. Wells
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