Irgi was the last of his monster race, guardian of
a dead planet, master of the secret of immortality.
It was he whom the four men from Earth had to
conquer to gain that secret—a tentacled
monstrosity whom Earthly weapons could not touch.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Fall 1945.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Irgi was the last of his race. There was no one else, now; there hadbeen no others for hundreds and hundreds of years. Irgi had lost countof time dwelling alone amid the marble halls of the eon-ancient city,but he knew that much. There were no others.
Only Irgi, alone.
He moved now along the ebony flooring, past the white marble walls hungwith golden drapes that never withered or shed their aurate luster inthe opalescent mists that bathed the city in shimmering whiteness. Theyhung low, those wispy tendrils of mist, clasping everything in theirclinging shelter, destroying dust and germs. Irgi had discovered themist many years ago, when it was too late to save his kind.
He had flung a vast globe of transparent metal above this greatest ofthe cities of the Urg and filled it with the mist, and in it he hadstored the treasures of his people. From Bar Nomala, from Faryl, andfrom the far-off jungle city of Kreed had he brought the riches of theUrg and set them up. Irgi enjoyed beauty, and he enjoyed work. It wasthe combination of both that kept him sane.
Toward a mighty bronze doorway he went, and as his body passed aninvisible beam, the bronze portals slid apart, noiselessly, opening toreveal a vast circular chamber that hummed and throbbed, and was filledwith a pale blue luminescence that glimmered upon metal rods and barsand ten tall cones of steelite.
In the doorway, Irgi paused and ran his eyes about the chamber, sighing.
This was his life work, this blue hum and throb. Those ten coneslifting their disced tips toward a circular roof bathed in, and drewtheir power from, a huge block of radiant white matter that hungsuspended between the cones, in midair. All power did the cones and theblock possess. There was nothing they could not do, if Irgi so willed.It was another discovery that came too late to save the Urg.
Irgi moved across the room. He pressed glittering jewels inset in acontrol panel on the wall, one after another, in proper sequence.
The blue opalescence deepened, grew dark and vivid. The hum broadenedinto a hoarse roar. And standing out, startlingly white against theblue, was the queer block of shining metal, shimmering and pulsing.
Irgi drew himself upwards, slowly turning, laving in the quiveringbands of cobalt that sped outward from the cones. He preened his bodyin their patterns of color, watching it splash and spread over hischest and torso. Where it touched, a faint tingle lingered; then spreadoutwards, all over his huge form.
Irgi was immortal, and the blue light made him so.
"There, it is done," he whispered to himself. "Now for another oval Ican roam all Urg as I will, for the life spark in me has been cleansedand nourished."
He touched the jeweled controls, shutting the power to a low murmur. Heturned to the bronze doors, passed through and into the misty halls.
"I must speak," Irgi said as he moved along the corridor. "I have notspoken for many weeks. I must exercise my voice, or lose it. That isthe law of nature. It would atrophy, otherwise.
"Yes, I will use my voice tonight, and I will go out under the dome andlook up at the stars and the other planets that swing near Urg, and Iwill talk to them and tell them how lonely Irgi is."
He t