The Green Girl
(A Serial in Two Parts) Part I
By Jack Williamson
Illustrated by WESSO
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Amazing Stories March and April 1930.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
In a very recent issue of Science and Invention Dr. Hartmantells of the amazing discoveries he has made in the Mediterranean,off the coast of Sicily, when he went below the sea in his newlyconstructed steel diving bell, which was designed to withstand apressure of 2,500 pounds per square inch or a sub-sea depth of about5,000 feet. During his latest venture below the sea level, Dr. Hartmandiscovered a prehistoric city—perhaps the Lost Atlantis. Why, then,should it be impossible to assume that there might be cities—evenvast cities—submerged miles below the Pacific, for instance, andmade habitable? But whatever else might be said, "The Green Girl" isa scientifiction classic that will rank with the best that have everbeen published. Though it is a wild, exciting, fantastic tale, it isexceedingly plausible withal. Be sure to read the first instalment inthis issue.
CHAPTER I
MAY 4, 1999
At high noon on May 4, 1999, the sun went out! It had risen brightand clear. The summer sky had had an unwonted liquid brilliance. Theclimbing day-star had shone all the morning with unusual intensity.But just at ten o'clock, an intangible mist obscured the sky! A paleand deepening film stole over the crystal infinity of the heavens! Thesky assumed a dull, almost copper tinge, that developed into a ghastlyscarlet pall! In five minutes the sky changed from a soft and limpidblue to an intense, darkling scarlet! In the appalling suggestion ofblood in the dusky crimson depths, there was a grim omen of the fate ofearth!
I had got up at dawn for a plunge in the surf, and all the morningI had been wandering about the bit of beach and the strip of virginwoodland behind it, content in the restful, soothing peace of thatuntouched bit of Nature, rejoicing lazily in the vivid greenness of it,in the fresh odors of earth and plant, in the whisper of the wind inthe palms. I lounged on the crisp grass in the cooling shade, livingin my sympathy with the life about me, watching the long soft rollersof the green-blue Atlantic surging deliberately toward the crystalwhiteness of the sunlit sandy beach. The soft cerulean skies wereclear, save for the white wings of occasional airships that glanced inthe bright sunshine. The morning had a singularly quiet and soothingbeauty. My sleepy soul was in harmony with the distant mellow chime ofa church bell. I lay back in the peaceful rest of a man ready to sinklazily into the evening of life.
Though I am still an able man of somewhat less than thirty years, Ifelt that morning none of the energetic exuberance of youth. I feltsomething of the age and the agelessness of Nature herself. I felt nofires of ambition; I was oddly devoid of feeling or emotion; I feltcontent to steep my soul for eternities in Nature's simple wonders. ButI have always been a dreamer.
I was a worshipper come unknowingly for the last time to the shrineof life. For even then the doom was gathering! But I was spared allknowledge of the alien menace that was blotting out the sun! I hadno premonition that within a few sh