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Updated: July 12, 2025
On the farther edge there appeared an area coloured to represent water, and adjoining this area was a square spot labeled "The Mahovisal." And about midway from this point to the near edge of the dial a red dot hung, moving slowly over the chart. "The red dot, my lord, indicates our position," explained the Jan.
At the time he spoke, it was twenty-four hours after the Aradna's going; another twenty-four hours would see the evening of the Last Day the sixteenth of the sacred Days of Life what the Rhamdas alluded to as "the Day of Judgment." And the Mahovisal was a seething mass of humanity, all bent upon seeing the fulfillment of their highest hopes.
"Perhaps I am," returned Watson, utterly confounded. He did not know what to say. He had never heard of a Kospian or a D'Hartian, nor of the Mahovisal. It made things difficult; he couldn't get started. Most of all, he wanted information; and, instead, he was being questioned. The best he could do was to equivocate. As for the Rhamda, he frowned.
A pause, and Watson asked, "Where is this temple? And is this room a part of the building?" "No. You are in the Sar-Amenive Hospital, an institution of the Rhamdas." The Rhamdas! So there were several of them. A sort of society, perhaps. "In San Francisco?" "No. San Francisco! Again I fail to understand. This locality is known as the Mahovisal." "The Mahovisal!"
How large the building was he could not see. The Gargantuan facade itself was enough to smother comprehension. It was laid out in the form of a triangle, one end of which was open towards the city; the two sections of the facade met under a huge, arched opening the door itself. Watson recognised the structure as the one he had seen from the June Bug on the outskirts of the Mahovisal.
The black column of Rhamdas moved ahead rhythmically, with the swing of solemn grandeur. For some minutes they marched through the streets of the Mahovisal. There was no cheering; it was a holy, awesome occasion. Chick could sense the undercurrent of the staring thousands, the reverence and the piety. It was the Day of the Prophet. They were staring at a miracle. The column turned a corner.
Hence the crowd below, my lord; yet they are nothing compared with the crowds that today are pressing their way from all D'Hartia and Kospia towards the Mahovisal." "All because of the Day?" "And to see YOU, my lord." "All believers in the Jarados?" "All truly; but they do not all believe in your lordship.
Watson instinctively drew back, and as he did so the other stepped forward, touched the snap, and closed the window. "What's the idea? I was just getting interested!" The soldier nodded pleasantly, respectfully reverently. "Orders from below, my lord. Were you to remain at that window it would take all the guards in the Mahovisal to keep back the Thomahlians." "Why?" Chick was astonished.
He felt no change in temperature or any other ill effects; the cabin was fully enclosed, and heated by some invisible means. In short, ideal flight: for instance, the seats were swung on gimbals, so that no matter at what angle the craft might fly, the passengers would maintain level positions. Below stretched the Mahovisal a mighty city of domes and plazas, and, widely scattered, a few minarets.
They are coming, of course, for the Day of the Prophet." Watson continued to watch the great airship, noting the swarm of smaller craft that came out from the Mahovisal to greet it, until the Jan Lucar suddenly altered the course. They stopped climbing, and struck out on a horizontal level. It left the Mahovisal behind them, a shimmering spot of fire beside the gleaming sea.
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