by John Wyndham
‘Not more than a day or two, now, I believe; but he is not sure that some further adjustments won’t be necessary. You’re feeling homesick?’
Jessica failed to reply for a moment. She held her gaze fixed straight ahead, and there was a slight petulance in the line of her mouth. At length she answered, in a dull voice:
‘I suppose I am. After all, one could hardly wish to stay here for ever. Sometimes, at nights, it comes over me in a perfect wave of longing. I look out and see nothing but the dimness of the stars, and hear nothing but the stirring of the trees; then I long for our bustling twenty-third century. I want to see the sky split by the green fire at the tail of an Asia-bound rocket, or the red gush from the Europe express.
‘Sometimes, on clear nights, we could see from our house the pure-white flames streaming from the Mars spaceship as it spurted from its cradle. And then, too, there was never this terrible quiet. Even when one was shut away, there was always a sense of movement, of a world where men and their machines all worked to some purpose—a rustling sense of life even in the quietest places. I feel a horrible sense of futility that it has come only to this—to the insects.’
‘I’m sure you are wrong there. If we had found men still existing at this date, I should feel that it did seem futile. It would mean that man must die when the world dies. But, since there is no sign of him, I am convinced that he achieved his true end—whatever that may have been—and gone on his way-leaving the world to other forms of life so that they may in turn achieve their ends.’
‘I think you are an optimist, Roy, but I hope you are right. I confess, I don’t feel very cheerful about anything just now.’ ‘While I seem to feel happier than I ever remember, I could almost hope that Del’s machine should turn out a failure. I wish .’ He stopped abruptly. A light crept into Jessica’s eyes.
The corners of her mouth lifted, ever so slightly.
‘Yes?’ she prompted, gently. But Roy was not looking; he did not see the change that had come over her.
‘I don’t know. It seems so unnecessary that we should go back to our own centuries—and yet, we must.’
‘Must?’
‘Well, imagine what a misfit I should be in Del’s century.’ Jessica sighed to herself over the obtuseness of men. ‘I can’t imagine you in Del’s century,’ she said. But Roy missed the emphasis which was laid upon the word ‘Del,’ and took the statement at its face value. Jessica let the subject drop. She had learned what she wanted to know; the rest was a matter of careful handling. She might even have to propose herself, in the end….
Half an hour later, as they were returning to the cave, Roy announced that there was a surprise awaiting her. Ril and Julian, in their experiments with the captured ant-machine, had succeeded in making it workable. The machinery cased in the lower part of the ovoid body, and partitioned off, had been found to be intact. It had not been a great labour, with the help of the heat-rays, to braise on salvaged legs in place of those shorn away. Then, more to give themselves employment than for any other reason, the two men had set about adapting the controls for human use. To this end, they had applied themselves to the solution of a number of ingenious problems which turned out, in most cases, less difficult than they had expected. Much of the work consisted merely of clearing away many of the stages necessary for insect manipulation.
‘ What I mean is,’ said Roy, explaining, ‘a man might need a block and tackle to lift a heavy log which an elephant would lift direct. This time, Ril and Julian were in the position of the elephant—they could dispense with much of the intermediate mechanical aid. They’re as pleased with the thing as a child with a new toy. It’s going to be ready to show off its tricks when we get back.’
‘But what’s the good of it?’
‘None, I think. They merely felt an interest in the thing and it gave them something to do. They solved it as one might solve any other puzzle. You’ll see it soon.’
His words were borne out, a few hundred yards from home. They saw the glittering machine approach, slowly scrabbling over the ground towards them. It stopped as they came into view, and stood still, its tentacles waving in the usual manner of the ant-operated craft. Roy gave a chuckling laugh.
‘A pretty good imitation. If I hadn’t been expecting it, I’d have rayed the thing right off—and that would have been very uncomfortable for Ril and Julian.’
As if at the thought, his hand went to his belt. It encountered the butt of his revolver, but the ray tube was missing. He cursed his carelessness in not bringing it; such an omission might well have had tragic results. He and Jessica advanced together.
‘Now, Ril, put it through its paces,’ he called. But the machine merely stood there, waving its tentacles. A sudden misgiving shot through Roy’s mind. To reassure himself, he called: ‘What are you trying to do? Scare us?’
Jessica drew closer to his side. She was aware of an uncomfortable sense that all was not well.
‘Suppose it isn’t-?’ she began. She got no further, for at that moment the machine snapped into action. It came scuttering full at them, tentacles outstretched.
‘Run! ’ cried Roy, but instead, she shrank towards him. He jerked out his revolver and spat a burst of ineffective shots. The machine charged down on them. A feeler wrapped about Jessica’s waist and snatched her from his side; another looped about his wrist, dragging him along. With a violent twist of his arm, he broke its grip and fell to the ground. Jessica screamed as the metal legs thudded past within inches of his head. The machine did not wait to recapture him; holding the girl clear of the ground, it made straight for the trees. Roy grabbed for his fallen revolver, jumped to his feet and raced vainly after it. The danger of hitting Jessica was too great for him to risk a shot, and the machine, looking like some great, shining beetle was travelling twice his speed. The girl gave one final, despairing cry; then captor and captive disappeared among the branches.
For a few dazed seconds, Roy continued to run, before his senses reasserted themselves and sent him shouting in the direction of the cave. Consternation reigned in the group as he panted out his news.
‘Give me a ray tube,’ he demanded. ‘I’ll wreck that machine and bring Jessica back, if it’s the last thing I do.’ Del caught his arm. ‘You could never catch it before it reached the anthill, and it’s no good trying single-handed to___’ Ril broke in. He had exchanged a hurried whisper with Julian, which sent the other running towards the cave.
‘We’ll take the machine,’ he said. ‘Julian and I have finished it and tested it.’
Roy, without hesitation, dashed to the spot where the renovated craft lay, and started hurling aside the branches which masked it. Ril clambered up a rough ladder set against the side, and slid into the interior through a hole in the top.
‘Tubes—we must have them,’ Roy called. Del handed over two high-power tubes and one low one. The only remaining tube he retained, in case of attack.
‘Get the girl back, and we will go,’ he said. ‘The time-traveller will be ready when you return.’
Julian came running back with an armful of additional apparatus, which he lugged aboard. Roy slid in last, and slapped the covering panel shut. Ril and Julian were already at the controls. The machine stirred with a slight lurch; then, with metal legs flashing in the sunlight, it scuttered at full speed for the trees and the spire of the giant anthill beyond them.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE
For the first hour, silence was scarcely broken. Ril could spare no attention from the delicate occupation of steering the unfamiliar machine, and Julian was engaged in arranging some of the apparatus he had so hurriedly gathered. Noticeable among it was the lamp which they had used to light the cave. Roy moved restlessly about the confined space, peering through one or another of the observation holes which had been pierced in the metal hull. Continually he turned to urge Ril to greater speed. The dwarf shook his head. Already they were at the speed limit of safe travel, and time and again
, avoided a crash with some tree only by the swiftest dexterity. The greatest concern which beset him was lest they should reach some unfordable stream and be forced to a long detour but the fear was unfounded. The first water they encountered was a clear brook, flowing rapidly over a shallow bed of stone and without hesitation, they took it in a shower of sparkling drops. As they were mounting the further bank, the first untoward incident occurred; there came a mighty crash to one side, and a tree toppled slowly. It missed them as it fell by only a few feet. Another crash, close at hand, caused Ril to steer the machine hastily to the right. Roy was flung to the floor by the sudden change of direction.
‘What was that?’ he demanded, as he scrambled up. ‘Rocks,’ said Ril briefly. ‘They nearly got us, too.’
Roy remembered the scene they had witnessed on the day their arrival.
‘It’s the red things. They’ve spotted us! Here, give me a ray.’
He thrust his head and shoulders out of the top panel, and looked about him. No enemy was visible, but away ahead he could hear the crackling of branches as something drew nearer. ‘Coming this way. Move off a bit.’
Ril obeyed speedily and, a moment later, a rock landed on the spot where they had paused. Roy guessed that they must have been seen as they made the crossing, and that the rocks were being thrown by guesswork. A red machine stalked into view and halted uncertainly. The silver ant-craft was now effectively screened from its view by a clump of bushes. A second presently joined it. Roy hesitated only for a second with Jessica still at stake, they could afford to waste no time; he lifted the ray tube. One sweep sliced off a trellised leg, and the machine, as it tottered, fell against its companion. The two swayed for a space, and then went down together with a resounding crash and a furious flailing of their jointed arms.
‘Right away—flat out,’ Roy called, and Ril threw in the lever which sent them scurrying on their course.
The red machines were about the countryside in unusual numbers, they discovered as they continued; but further direct encounters were successfully avoided. Moreover, as they drew nearer to the anthill, they began to meet with an increasing number of machines similar to their own. These, at first, they gave a wide berth, but it soon became obvious that they had no need to fear molestation, since the ants gave no sign of suspecting their presence.
They were still some two miles from the hill when Roy, at a forward peep-hole, gave an excited cry. Disappearing into the trees on the far side of a clearing, he had caught a glimpse of Jessica’s captor, with her form still closely wrapped in its tentacles. Ril urged them at full speed across the open ground and plunged into the forest, hard on the track. But despite his utmost efforts, it was not until they emerged into the space ringing the base of the anthill that they caught another glimpse of the marauder.
Their gain had been appreciable, and Roy decided to risk a ray flash; they could not hope to overtake the other before it reached the dark entrance to the hill. His ray, at low power, flashed on the twinkling legs with no result. He pushed the power up a notch, and tried again. This time he succeeded in fusing one of the rear leg-joints, so that the metal limb became rigid. Unfortunately, it projected clear, and hampered progress not at all. The tube was just levelled for a third shot when a hand grasped his wrist, and he turned to face Julian. The latter spoke angrily.
‘Put that away, you fool! ’ he snapped. ‘Can’t you see that if you did bring the thing down, it would most likely kill Jessica in the fall? Even if it didn’t, she’d be covered with ants in a few seconds.’
The possibility shook Roy badly; he cursed his own foolhardiness as he returned the tube to his belt. Julian turned his back and began to adjust the lamp, now erected at one of the larger spy-holes. A minute later, the leading machine, still clutching Jessica, disappeared into the dark mouth of the entrance. After it, all six legs threshing furiously, pounded the avenger.
Julian pressed a switch, and a beam of dazzling brilliance bored down the tunnel before them. The vast central roadway stretched out like a dirigible hangar of infinite length. Here and there, the upsweeping curves of the walls were pierced with side-turnings; mysterious, gaping mouths whose immenseness was dwarfed only by the proportions of the main artery, traffic, there was little at the present, but such machines as were visible scuttled along with a methodical orderliness, keeping to the right of the track and paying no attention to pursuer or pursued.
Why don’t they attack us?’ Roy wondered.
‘Too specialised,’ replied Ril. ‘Their whole organisation is worked on a basis of calculation, precision and instinct. They know, for instance, that there is danger from the red stalking machines outside; that danger is calculated and allowed for. But when they face us, they are up against the incalculable and their instincts are not any help to them. For centuries perhaps, they have not been called upon to cope with the unexpected.’
‘But they attacked and captured us in the first place.’ ‘True, but then they were in the open, where dangers might be expected and their instinct was to overcome a challenge, it requires more than instinct and simple calculation to grasp the idea of one of their own machines being turned against them. You notice that even the one we are following has shown no sign of perturbation; it has just kept steadily on its way and paid no attention to anything else.’
‘Then we are safe from interference? All we have to do is recapture Jessica when we reach the other machine, and march out with her.’
Ril looked doubtful. It seemed unlikely that it would be as simple as that.
‘We are all right, I think, until we are discovered by the central intelligence. We can’t tell what will happen then.’
‘But how do you know there is a central intelligence?’
Ril lifted one hand from the controls of the racing vehicle and waved it in an expressive sweep.
‘Something must control all this. Besides, you remember the machine which wrote on the floor—it was obviously designed for brain-work of some kind. It had no legs to move about on. It was a calculating machine—a kind of composite-thinking mechanism. Somewhere in this ant-mountain there must be a super-calculator, capable not only of working from known factors, but of reasoning from probabilities; a kind of central brain, of which our questioner was a mere subsidiary.’
‘It sounds too improbable.’
‘I don’t think so. Since the insects had even more natural obstacles to overcome than man had, they must, of necessity use more involved apparatus.’
While Ril spoke, they gradually gained on the machine ahead. Now, a bare twenty yards separated the two. Julian already had his hands on the control-levers of the tentacles, and was ready to send them coiling out the moment the range permitted. The leader turned, with a sudden swerve, down a passage to the left. Only by skilful manipulation did Ril avoid overshooting the corner, but he succeeded, and they gained yet another couple of yards. The three men grew more tense as the distance lessened. Julian’s knuckles were white on the levers, and his face strained. Roy again thrust his head and shoulders through the top panel, and held his tube ready for action. Then, with disconcerting suddenness, the passage walls fell away and they sped out into a large, circular hall.
Roy had a glimpse of serried ranks of the white metal machines, gleaming and glittering in the rays of their lamp; then his eyes rose to the structure which dominated the whole vast room. It stood, raised on a dais in the exact centre—-a huge, metallic shape, sprouting with a multitude of shining feelers. At that moment, Julian went into action. Judging his distance to a nicety, he sent a tentacle whipping round one of the rear legs of Jessica’s captor.
Simultaneously, Ril slowed their machine, and there came a jerk which almost dislodged Roy from his perch. The legs of the leader crumpled beneath it, and the shining belly met the ground with a thud. Julian, with the full power of the attached tentacle, began to draw it back towards them. From his vantage-point, Roy sliced with a pencil-thick ray at the roots of the feelers which bound Jessica. The whol
e affair had taken place so quickly that they had been unmolested; but as the last strand parted, there came an ominous stirring in the ranks of the surrounding machines.
Ril’s voice rose insistently. ‘Quick! Get that central globe! ’ Roy perceived that the many feelers around it had sprung into furiously writhing signals. With sweeps of his ray at full power, he carved it into sections. As the parts fell, he saw the outflow of myriads of ants, running in glistening streams across the floor.
‘Too late! ’ cried Ril. ‘It’s given the order.’
Roy swung his beam around the closing circle of machines, while the tentacles under Julian’s control sought and grasped the prostrate form of Jessica. They snatched her from the ground a split second before the insect hordes swept the spot.
‘We’ve got to run for it,’ Ril called up, as he manoeuvred their craft to the right-about. ‘Clear a way to the passage.’
The few machines in their path were swiftly dealt with, but while Roy’s attention was taken aside, the rest of the circle was closing in.
Full speed! ’ he roared down to the dwarf. They tore forward with a jerk, the light and Roy’s heat-ray blazing ahead of them. Once in the comparative safety of the corridor, he turned around and devoted his attention to hindering the pursuit. Dozens fell to his ray, but he saw that, in spite of his destruction, the mass was gaining. At a sudden idea, he thrust the power of his tube down a couple of notches and gave an exclamation of satisfaction at the result. The machines, instead of being blotted out, were now being fused into immobility and thus presenting considerable difficulty to the advance of those in the rear. A second inspiration struck him, and he called to Ril to slow down.
He swung his ray across the passage and rendered useless the first rank of the pursuers. As those behind came climbing over them, he swung the ray back along the line so that they fused above their fellows. Still more came scrambling over and again the ray swept across. A grim smile of success twitched his mouth as he steadily continued his tactics. At great speed, he was building a solid wall of fused metal between himself and the pursuers. It was but a short time before it blocked the passage from the floor to the curved roof.