Charles Carr, page 9
His view was distorted by the hot air, but there was certainly an upright shape in the midst of the heat-devils. This shape, dim and vague as it appeared, had substance.
“It’s crossing the trench,” said Manzoni, clutching Taylor’s arm.
“No,” said Lyon, “the trench has stopped -“
“But it’s doing something there,” Taylor broke in. “What is it doing?”
They could not make out what were the actions of the thing, but suddenly a gap appeared in the ridge of earth. Some force had thrust through it, pushing the loose soil into the trench.
“It’s filling up the trench again,” Manzoni said desperately. “Now it will come and bring all the heat-devils. What can we do?”
“Wait,” Lyon said. “It’s coming no nearer, and the heat-devils -“
“They’re staying there by the trench,” Taylor pointed out. He felt hope again. “They’re moving back.”
“But one heat-devil’s coming this way,” Lyon told them quietly.
They saw then that a single heat-devil was coming towards them. As it crossed the trench by the narrow bridge of earth which had been made, it was far less conspicuous than the cluster that surrounded the retreating salamander. But as it glided, spinning on its axis, nearer to them, there could be no mistake as to its course.
“We must get inside,” said Lyon coolly.
As they turned to leave the roof, Taylor though he could already feel radiation from the thing. It was like a hot breath on his back.
Inside the building they heard the crash and crackle as a section of the outer wall collapsed in ruin. But there was no panic. A party of fire-fighters wearing insulated suits localised the outbreak, smothering the incandescent fragments in foam. A few minutes passed without any further action.
“Come,” said Lyon. “Let’s see what is happening.”
Instead of climbing to the roof, he led them through the breach that had been made in the wall.
“Gone,” he announced. There’s nothing left to see. But there’s plenty for us to do.”
“What do you make of it, sir?” Taylor asked.
But Lyon was too busy to reply. He was giving orders to Manzoni.
“Get your excavators to work. Dig out that section again. Then deepen the trench.”
“I understand,” said Manzoni eagerly, and turned to go.
“Wait! That isn’t all. Shift the soil to the inner side of the trench. That’s one lesson learnt.
We won’t give them material to bridge the trench another time, And, Manzoni, when that’s done, send the excavators to do the same job at the other stations, in the order I gave you. Now I’m going to radio the President.”
Taylor watched the station Head sending his staff back to their work again. They went about their tasks like men reprieved from death. To Taylor’s surprise the Head turned to him and clasped both his hands. It was the first gesture of warmth and comradeship that the young man had ever known from one of the earlier occupants of the planet.
“It is magnificent, is it not?” the Head exclaimed.
“But it isn’t conclusive,” Taylor replied warningly.
“We know at least that those things” - the Head pointed towards the hot side - “are not invincible. Now we can continue with hope.”
Lyon, who had just come from the radio-telephone, heard what the Head said.
“I agree,” he told him, “and I’m glad to know that you think so. The President sends his congratulations to you and your staff on their behaviour, and may I add my own?”
The station Head thanked him.
“Shall you stay here?” he asked Lyon.
“No. I’m flying back at once to Una.”
14
“You asked me,” Lyon said to Taylor when they had taken off from Station Nineteen on their return to Una, “you asked me what I made of it. What did you mean? Weren’t you satisfied with the result?”
“Yes,” said Taylor, “but I couldn’t understand it. Why didn’t the salamander exploit that gap? Why didn’t more heat-devils cross the trench? Was it just luck?”
“Perhaps; but I don’t think so. My guess - it’s only a guess, Taylor - is that the salamanders can’t endure conditions way from the hot side for long. They need a screen of heat-devils round them. Even so, the temperature must fall, so that they can’t stay for long; they have to get back quickly.”
“Yes,” said Taylor, “that would explain it.”
“But it’s only a guess,” Lyon warned him. “I’m not going to claim that it’s the only possible explanation until I have more proof. And I don’t want you to speak to anybody about it yet.
Nevertheless, if it is so, there are possibilities…”
What the possibilities were he did not say. For the rest of the flight he relaxed, and it was not till they landed at the airport that he made a further remark of any consequence.
“Leblanc wants to see me alone,” he told Taylor. “He has more work for me. I think we can come to an understanding, especially if Sanger isn’t there.”
“Shall I come with you to the Government office, sir?” Taylor asked.
Lyon looked closely at him.
“No. You look used up. Take a spell of repose. Then get in touch with me, and I’ll tell you what to do.”
Taylor went at once to the office by the airport, where Nesina worked. She was not there.
He took a car to her apartment in the town, and there he found her. She rushed across the room to greet him. Of her own accord she flung her arms round him and kissed him. She was in a mood that he had not seen before, reckless and exulting.
“I hoped you would look for me,” she said, “so I came here. I did not want to meet you in the office. Are you not pleased?”
“Dear Nesina, yes.”
They sat down and spoke more calmly.
“I’m glad because you are glad,” he said. “That must mean that you’ve heard -“
“Yes. I heard what happened at Station Nineteen. The President made a radio announcement.”
“What did he say?”
“That a means of protection had been found. He mentioned your Captain Lyon and you. It seems that the destruction of the heat-devils is justified. Now there is every hope for us. Oh, I am so grateful!”
“Yes,” he told her, “there is every hope.”
There was no reason why he should not say that. He still thought that her exultation was hardly justified; and his first instinct had been to warn her that nothing very decisive had happened. But her welcome had raised his spirits. She was radiant; there was joy in her tone as she spoke, and the smile that he had sometimes despaired of seeing was near her eyes and lips.
He could not spoil this moment by uttering a warning.
Instead he said, “It sounds as though your people may see now that mine are not altogether” -
he paused, searching for an inoffensive way to convey his meaning - “that they may now admit us as equals.”
At that she really did smile, and the sight of her gaiety enchanted him.
“You are very diplomatic and tactful,” she said.
“‘But what I said is true. There is more hope, you see, for me. And if my people are no longer treated by yours as they have been, you won’t be blamed for -“
“For making you welcome in my home,” she said, before he could complete the sentence.
“Yes, that is a pleasant thought too. You want to rest now?”
“No,” he said, “not now,” and was surprised to find it true. He had felt exhausted and in need of repose, but that was so no longer. This interlude had invigorated and refreshed him more than any rest could have done. When Nesina went back to her work, he lost no time in going to the Government building.
There he inquired for Lyon.
“He is in his office,” a clerk told him, giving him a number of a room.
Taylor found his chief seated at a desk and speaking to Manzoni. The conversation ceased as he entered.
“This,” Lyon explained to Taylor, “is our new headquarters in Una. The President has been good enough to give me an office here. It looks as though there’ll be plenty of work for you, if you’re fit.” He looked keenly at Taylor and smiled.
“I’m ready for anything, sir,” Taylor said.
“I too,” Manzoni told him. “I have asked the President to set me free from all other duties so that I may join -“
The door of the office was opened violently and a man came in. At first Taylor did not recognise him. Then he saw that it was Camisse, who had led the expedition to the hot side.
He was the wreck of what he once had been, barefooted, with a soiled robe all awry, his face worked in involuntary grimaces. At a shambling run he crossed the room and addressed Manzoni.
“You heard the news - the good news? The salamanders are settled. So I am justified. It was not in vain. Manzoni, you must tell them that now I can go back. Manzoni -“
“Of course,” said Manzoni. “Come with me. I will arrange everything.”
Camisse accompanied him docilely. Manzoni flashed a rueful look at Lyon. The door closed behind them.
Lyon sighed. “I’m sorry for the poor devil, but he’s a liability; and there’ll be others cracking up like him. These people don’t give themselves a chance. They work incessantly, without relaxation or repose. It seems to make them unbalanced. They panic, or else they build too much hope on a small success. Most of them seem to think that the danger from the salamanders is ended already.
“But I was going to tell you about the President. He’s a far-seeing man, Taylor, though he’s handicapped by some of his senior officials. But he has a policy and he’s working out a plan. I only hope his people will let him carry it through. And we are to play a big part in the scheme.
Kraft and Loddon come into it. I’m sending for Loddon as soon as -“
There was another interruption. This time it was Sanger who entered.
“Have you seen the President?” he asked.
“He’s in his office.”
“Not at the moment.”
“I can’t help you.”
“I came here,” said Sanger maliciously, “because I understand he is collaborating so closely with you. I thought I might find him here.”
“I attend the President in his office; he does not come to mine. You should know that, Sanger.”
“How should I know what happens under this new régime?”
“I don’t understand you,” said Lyon curtly. “As you see, the President is not here; and I am busy.”
“Then I will go. But allow me to congratulate you on your success at Station Nineteen.
Your guess was a lucky one.”
“It was not a guess.”
“Then no doubt you also foresaw what has happened since.”
Lyon made no reply.
“A report has just come. I was taking it to the President. There has been another disaster.”
“To an oxygen plant?” Taylor asked quickly. He saw Lyon frowning at him, but he had been unable to resist putting the obvious question.
“No. This time it is one of the largest farm settlements. The place is burnt out.”
“What caused the fire?” said Lyon. “Heat-devils?”
“The report speaks of balls of fire floating through the air,” said Sanger. “It is not altogether clear to me what that means. No doubt you will understand, Captain Lyon.”
Again there was no answer, and Lyon’s face was expressionless. Sanger departed.
But as soon as he was out of the room Lyon sprang to his feet.
“There’s a ‘plane at my disposal now,” he told Taylor. “Get through to the airport and tell them to have it ready. I’m going to find Leblanc.”
He was back in the office five minutes later.
“Sanger’s bent on making trouble,” he said. “He doesn’t mind how much panic he causes.
Defeatism, despair, retreat, evacuation - that’s his policy.”
“Did you find the President?”
“Yes. He saw my point. This bad news isn’t to be made known - at least until it’s been checked and verified. I have the location of that farm settlement, and we’re going there now.”
15
From the air there was no mistaking the farm settlement that they had come to see. The blackened buildings and scorched vegetation stood out in conspicuous and ugly isolation. Two large relief ‘planes had already arrived, and Lyon’s ‘plane touched down beside them.
Most of the activity seemed to be concentrated close to one of the relief ‘planes. Taylor saw that a dressing-station had been improvised there. A doctor was treating a number of injured people.
“We’ll see what we can find out,” Lyon said, and they walked to the dressing-station. The smell of burning grew stronger as they neared the doctor and his cases.
He was bandaging an unconscious child. Lyon waited till the work was finished before he spoke to the doctor.
“Are any of them fit to talk?”
“Yes. There is one old man who isn’t burnt at all.”
“Where is he?”
“Katz took him away.”
“Who is Katz?”
“He is our chief,” said the doctor. “He is there by the buildings, trying to identify the dead.”
Katz was a tall, gaunt man in a short grey robe. He and his helpers were working in an open space that had once been a quadrangle surrounded by the barns, sheds and living quarters of the settlement. These buildings were now low heaps of ashes from which the twisted ends of girders and supports protruded. The sweet, sickly odour of roasting filled the air. Taylor was almost overcome. He retched and shivered striving to fight his nausea.
Silently Katz handed a flask to Lyon, who drank and passed it to Taylor. The spirit it contained tasted cool and strong. It gave Taylor strength to face the row of bodies, twelve or more of them, that lay there. Most of Katz’s assistants were carefully searching in the ruins.
But one of them was ticketing the bodies, helped by an old man.
Since the old man wore the heavy sandals and leggings of a farm-worker, Taylor knew that he must be the uninjured survivor to whom the doctor had referred.
“Tell me what happened,” Lyon said.
The farm-worker straightened up.
“That was Anna,” he said hoarsely. The assistant wrote the name neatly on a ticket.
“Tell me what happened,” repeated Lyon, more loudly.
The old man stared at him stupidly for a moment, then sighed.
“All gone,” he croaked. “People, animals, fodder - all gone.”
‘That was because of the fire, of course,” said Lyon in a matter-of-fact tone. “You must tell me how the fire started.”
“It was the sun.”
“The sun? But you cannot see the sun here.”
The old man shivered and looked round wanderingly. Then he seemed suddenly to return to full consciousness.
“Of course, there is no sun. Foolish of me.” He looked up into the grey sky. “But when I was young, on Earth, I have seen the sun rise in a morning mist. That it what it was like. Red and glowing, but not too bright to look at. And I could feel its warmth as it came.” His finger traced a path through the sky. “I was out in the field, and I stood and watched it. It was so beautiful.”
“But it did this.” Lyon pointed to the wreckage.
“Red and warm and beautiful,” the old farm-worker insisted. “And it did no harm. It passed over - that first one. And the next, and the next. There were many of them.”
“Yes?” said Lyon. He looked at Taylor as though to make sure that he was alert and aware of the significance of what he heard. “Which way did they go?”
“Which way?” The old man considered deeply. Then he held out his hand with the fingers spread. “Like that” he said, “across the sky. I was watching them, but I did not see how far they went. Because this other came.”
“Was it like the first?”
“Yes, but it came a little lower, and it struck the roof of the barn. It burst and pieces of it flew everywhere.”
“Did it make a noise when it burst?”
“Yes, a loud noise. I was a kilometre away, and I heard it - a loud noise. And the heat grew greater still and the light was not red anymore but white. For a long time I could not get near. I knew that nearly all the workers were in the barn, stacking fodder. But what could I do? Some ran out and were saved. The rest are here.” He looked at the row of bodies and then turned his sore eyes away.
“That is what one fireball did. Where have the others gone? What have they done?”
“That,” said Lyon to Taylor, “is what we must find out.”
He made an examination of the ruins and questioned others of the survivors who were now conscious. Then, abruptly, he announced that he would fly back at once to Una.
“Fly high,” he ordered. “We have to look for other fires.”
“None have been reported,” the pilot said.
“There may still be fires,” Lyon insisted. “In lonely parts of the country, perhaps - out of sight of any settlement or station.”
They did, in fact, find the scars of two fires, and the pilot went down low enough for them to see that these had occurred in areas of tall fern-forest. The vegetation at these two points had evidently been too damp for the fire to spread, but thin wisps of smoke still rose in the calm air.
Finally, within a hundred kilometres of Una, a forest fire had taken hold and was blazing strongly.
“Can you pin-point that location?” Lyon asked.
The pilot nodded. He marked his map.
“Then report the fire to the authorities,” Lyon told him. “Besides dealing with that one, they should send air patrols to look for others. I leave it to you to ask for immediate action. I have something else to do.”
What Lyon did, as soon as they landed, was to report to Leblanc. He took Taylor with him.
‘It is as well,” said Leblanc at last, when he had heard Lyon’s statement, “that you gained a success at Station Nineteen, because this is a heavy blow. Heavy and unexpected. Our people, livestock, foodstuffs - all destroyed.”
