Short Fiction · The Call from Beyond (2/4) (2/2)

Nevin was leaning across the table. “And the people, the government, it does not suspect?”

West shook his head. “Why should it? Your Stella is a wonder. Everyone is batty over her. The newspapers went wild. The movie people⁠—”

“And the cults?”

“The cults,” said West, “are doing fine.”

“And you?” asked Cartwright and in the man’s rumbling voice West felt the challenge.

“I found out,” he said, “I came here to get cut in.”

“You know exactly what you are asking?”

“I do,” said West, wishing that he did.

“A new philosophy,” said Cartwright. “A new concept of life. New paths for progress. Secrets the human race never has suspected. Remaking the human civilization almost overnight.”

“And you,” said West, “right at the center, pulling all the strings.”

“So,” said Cartwright.

“I want a few to pull myself.”

Nevin held up his hand. “Just a minute, Mr. West. We would like to know just how⁠—”

Cartwright laughed at him. “Forget it, Louis. He knew about your painting. He had Annabelle. Where do you suppose he found out?”

“But⁠—but⁠—” said Nevin.

“Maybe he didn’t use a painting,” Cartwright declared. “Maybe he used other methods. After all, there are others, you know. Thousands of years ago men knew of the place we found. Mu, probably. Atlantis. Some other forgotten civilization. Just the fact that West had Annabelle is enough for me. He must have been there.”

West smiled, relieved. “I used other methods,” he told them.