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Storm on Venus

Page 3

by R. A. Bentley


  'What followed you in?' demanded Charles. 'What are you talking about?'

  Daphne brushed aside the proffered smelling salts. 'The thing! It knelt down in front of me. It tried to grab my foot. It was skinny and horrible. It wasn't human!'

  'Not human? Then what the devil was it?'

  I don't know! It was shaped like a man but it had an animal's face and big tall ears and it was covered in fur.

  Wilfred and Charles immediately made for the door, turning by unspoken agreement in opposite directions. Reaching the shadowy end of the terrace, Wilfred nearly tumbled down some steps. Cursing, he grabbed at the balustrade to steady himself.

  'Can you see anything?' called Freddy.

  'No, nothing. It's too dark.'

  'Neither can I,' said Charles. 'She probably imagined it.'

  'I did not!' protested Daphne from inside. 'It was here, I tell you. It touched me!'

  'You mustn't try to get up yet, dear,' cautioned Maud. 'You might faint again.'

  'Mummy, please believe me. It was just over there, where Uncle Freddy is standing. I turned around and there it was. It was horrible!'

  'Hush, listen,' said Charles.

  They listened. A light breeze had sprung up, stirring the treetops. Far off, an owl hooted. Otherwise, there was silence.

  Charles shook his head. 'I fancied I heard someone breathing. Perhaps I was mistaken.'

  'That fairy-light,' whispered Wilfred. 'It distinctly disappeared. Something must have passed in front of it.'

  'You're right, there's another. Stay here and guard the others. If I shout, come running.'

  They had only to wait a minute or two before Charles returned, his demeanour entirely altered.

  'There's something out there all right,' he reported. 'I only saw it for an instant but quite clearly. It certainly didn't look human.'

  'Good heavens!' cried Freddy. 'Then what the deuce was it?'

  'That I can't say. It was more or less as Daphne described it: tall and thin. The shape of the head was certainly odd, and with a most un-Christian pair of ears. I don't mind telling you I could feel my hair standing on end. And that's not all; there's a peculiar sort of light, deep in the woods. There's something pretty queer going on here and no mistake. Ah, Simms, just the man. Kindly fetch the Purdey and some ammunition. Agnes, find Masters and tell him to see any stragglers off the premises. On no account tell anyone what has happened; we don't want to start a panic. And tell the other servants to stay indoors. Quickly now.'

  'What has happened, sir?' asked Simms.

  'No time for that now; I'll tell you later.'

  'You're surely not proposing to shoot the thing?' said Maud. 'Should we not telephone the police?'

  Charles shook his head. 'I wouldn't advise it, at least for the moment. It's probably some tiresome fellow's idea of a practical joke, but if there really is a strange creature hanging around the garden I want a closer look at it. The gun is for protection.'

  'You can't go alone,' said Wilfred, 'I've got a twelve-bore in the car, and so has Uncle. We were hoping for some snipe.'

  'Good man. Fetch them and meet me here in five minutes. Where's the Professor?'

  'Yes, where is Ludo?' demanded Lady Lambent. 'He's never around when you need him.'

  Chapter 3

  The grounds of Hathercombe Hall ran to many acres, but away from the house, the elegant formality of lawns and borders quickly gave way to mature woodland, underplanted with exotic rhododendrons and threaded with winding gravel paths. Along one of these the three men, still in evening-dress, now warily crept, each with a gun at the ready. The moon had at last risen but it was barely into its second quarter and beneath the trees a pitchy blackness still held sway. It was also eerily silent, as if the usual denizens of the night had taken fright and gone into hiding, though whether from the hunters or their quarry it was impossible to tell. At some indeterminate distance the strange light that Charles had described could still be seen, beckoning them onwards.

  'I don't care for this,' said Freddy after a while. 'That confounded creature could be marching along beside us and we'd be none the wiser. I vote we go back and wait for daylight, or at least fetch some torches.'

  'You go if you like,' said Charles. 'I want an explanation for this business and I want it tonight. As for the creature, as you call it, I don't believe in it at all. We're undoubtedly the victims of a childish prank, and that light is part of it. When we get there, I suspect all will be revealed.'

  'I would be inclined to agree,' said Wilfred pensively, 'but for one thing.'

  'Which is?'

  'Our meteorite. The more I think about it, the less I'm convinced that what we saw was of natural origin. Compared with the chunks of rock and iron one finds in museums it seemed enormous, yet it made no discernable sound when it hit the ground. One would surely have expected a considerable impact from something so large, with earth and debris thrown high in the air. It seems to me remarkable that we should have encountered two such strange phenomena within just a few hours of each other. Indeed, if one were to apply Occam's razor . . .'

  'Oh come now, Carstairs,' interjected Charles irritably. 'What are you saying? That it was a spaceship, I suppose, and this alleged creature its pilot or crew. How can you possibly entertain such an outlandish notion? I took you for a rational man.'

  'I don't see how one is to rule it out,' said Wilfred defensively. 'And you said yourself the thing wasn't human.'

  'I said it didn't look human. It's all too easy for a man to let his imagination run away with him, and in the heat of the moment perhaps I did. The fact is, I don't believe in beings from outer space, or ghosts, or the angels of Mons or anything of that sort. It's all rot. We're dealing with a prankster, nothing more.'

  'But Miss Lambent saw it indoors,' said Wilfred. 'Had it been someone in fancy dress, she would surely have realized immediately.'

  'That's easily explained; she would have seen him only briefly, then she fainted.'

  'And what about the light? You have to agree it's very strange, like a bright patch of fog. What could do that?'

  'I've no idea. We'll find out soon enough.'

  'Well I think we should go back and fetch reinforcements,' persisted Freddy. 'Even if it's a mere prankster he's not necessarily alone; there might be a bunch of them. Who's to say they're not deliberately luring us to some further humiliation?'

  'Then they'll live to regret it' said Charles fiercely. 'As for the bounder that so frightened Daphne, a bloody nose is what he'll get.'

  With their differences on the subject unlikely to be resolved and with no-one prepared to abandon the others, they now pushed on in silence. Indeed, all their attention was required to avoid stumbling over projecting roots or scalping themselves on low branches, for in order to achieve their goal they were now obliged to leave the path and scramble through the often dense undergrowth beneath the trees. At one point they became hopelessly entangled in a thicket of brambles and had to make a large detour, and shortly afterwards Freddy tumbled headlong into a ditch, fortunately with no harm done.

  As they approached the mysterious light, it steadily grew and spread out, until little puffs and clouds of it seemed to break off and float towards them, patchily illuminating an isolated bush or one of their companions, or even a larger stretch of woodland. This extraordinary phenomenon defied any rational explanation, even by Charles, and with the 'prank' theory looking increasingly untenable they began to take more care, crouching low and moving with slow deliberation, like soldiers raiding into enemy territory.

  'I think we're coming to some sort of clearing,' whispered Wilfred. 'The trees are thinning out.'

  'Why, it must be the picnic glade,' said Freddy. 'I'd forgotten all about it. We used to come here often at one time and play a species of cricket. I fear we should have stuck to the path; it would have been much easier.'

  'It's a pity you didn't remember before,' grumbled Charles. 'It might have saved my trousers.' As usual, he was in the l
ead, pushing his way up a slight slope, when he abruptly dropped to his haunches. 'Down! Get down!'

  'What is it?'

  'You tell me!'

  Crawling on hands and knees the others joined him.

  'Sakes alive! Look at the size of it.'

  Perhaps sixty yards long and towering above their heads, the bizarre object almost filled the little grassy clearing. It showed no lights of its own, but from some unseen orifice came more of the drifting, brightly luminous effluvium that rendered starkly visible everything it touched.

  'This is simply amazing!' declared Freddy. 'It really is a spaceship. Or if not, I cannot imagine what else it could be.'

  'And the source of our intruder, no doubt,' added Charles. 'It seems I owe you an apology, Carstairs. Carstairs, what are you doing? Come back, you fool; it could be dangerous!'

  Feeling no fear but only an immense excitement, Wilfred walked slowly out into the clearing. He had known all along what they would find – it was the only explanation to fit the facts – but he could scarcely have imagined it would look like this. He searched his mind for something earthly with which to compare it and the answer came almost immediately. It was a fish.

  In the manner of fishes, its cone-shaped body was quite narrow at its stubby tail, gradually expanding to a disproportionately large, almost globular head. From this protruded two enormous, blank-looking "eyes," while circular patches of some similar material ran along its side. He thought it reasonable to assume that these were windows, or perhaps more properly portholes, although they were too high up to peer into. In addition to its tail, the ship's decidedly piscine character was further reinforced by a fin-like protuberance upon its back, with several others sprouting from its sides. He supposed the latter might function as wings, though they were very small. Closer inspection revealed it to be constructed of welded metal plates, while towards its rear was a thin telescopic tube, which, sloping sharply downwards, seemed to be stuck into the earth. Unfortunately his analogy here broke down, for he could think of no fish he had ever seen with this last appurtenance, unless it was one of those strange creatures occasionally hauled up from the ocean depths. It was certainly ugly enough. Reaching up, he ran his fingers over the vessel's surprisingly pitted and uneven surface. It was quite warm, and also vibrating slightly, with the almost subliminal suggestion of a hum.

  The others ventured cautiously to join him.

  'It's like some huge insect,' opined Charles. 'It has the stubby wings and the faceted eyes, and that thing at the back could be a sting. A bumblebee, perhaps.'

  'Is there a door or hatch of some kind?' asked Freddy. 'Somewhere our friend might have gone?'

  'There doesn't seem to be,' said Wilfred. 'Not here anyway.' Acting on a sudden hunch, he knelt and peered beneath the great hull. Nowhere did it touch the ground, though the underside of the larger end was no more than inches from it. 'It's hovering,' He announced. 'Perhaps your sting is an anchor.'

  'And yet it must weigh hundreds of tons!' exclaimed Charles, bending to confirm this astonishing observation. 'Rock steady too. This thing defies belief.'

  'The War of the Worlds,' said Freddy lugubriously. 'Have you read it? The Martians arrive in a sort of cylinder. Slowly the end of it unscrews, then comes the jolly old death-ray.'

  'Well it's hardly a cylinder.'

  'And nothing seems to be unscrewing.'

  'Anyway, our creature is already out; we know that.'

  'And here, if I'm not mistaken are its footprints,' said Wilfred, still on one knee. 'See, in the dew?'

  'Why, so there are,' said Charles. 'That is very observant of you Carstairs.'

  'I had good teachers,' said Wilfred modestly. 'Some of my boys were the most amazing trackers.'

  'But how do you know they're the creature's? I can barely see them.'

  Wilfred smiled. 'I know of nothing else with six toes.'

  'By Jove, he's right too,' said Freddy, peering at the indistinct prints. 'That just about clinches it, wouldn't you say? A genuine, accredited space-monster.'

  'The question is, what do we do now?'

  'Report it to the authorities, surely? One can't have creatures from outer space just wandering loose about the place. Is it hostile, do you suppose?'

  'It didn't offer any violence to Miss Lambent,' Wilfred pointed out. 'It knelt before her and made to touch her foot.'

  'Hardly civilised behaviour,' observed Charles. 'Boorish, I'd call it.'

  They had just circumambulated the thing for the second time, finding no obvious means of access, when Wilfred paused. 'You know, I'm sure that crack wasn't there just now.'

  'You're right,' agreed Charles. Cocking his gun, he raised it and stood back. The others did likewise.

  Slowly and silently the crack, some eight feet wide, continued to open, the lower portion resolving itself into a shallow ramp. The interior of the ship was very dark, but it was just possible to descry something moving slowly within.

  'If it tries anything, fire,' said Charles. 'Better safe than sorry.'

  'Look out, here it is!' cried Freddy. 'No, wait!'

  'Good evening, gentlemen,' said the Professor, emerging, blinking, onto the ramp. 'You can put up your guns; there's no danger, I assure you.'

  Chapter 4

  After a day of fevered speculation, the Lambents and their house guests were again to be found assembled on the terrace at Hathercombe Hall, some pacing back and forth, others peering anxiously into the gathering dusk.

  'Strange way of behaving, if you ask me,' said Charles, glancing for the umpteenth time at his watch. 'First the creature has the effrontery to appear out of nowhere and terrify my fiancée and now he's unconscionably late for dinner.'

  'Perhaps they have a more casual attitude to time than we do,' suggested Freddy. 'Like your Arab or Chinee.'

  'Had I known that,' said Maud, 'I should not have ordered Beef Wellington. One really cannot let it go too long.'

  'I must say I'm quite nervous,' said Daphne, 'especially after last night. I can scarcely believe I fainted in front of the Venusian envoy. Do you think I should apologise?'

  'Certainly not, dear,' sniffed Maud. 'If anyone ought to apologize, it is he. Remember you are British, while he is merely a sort of foreigner, even if he does represent royalty. As for his obvious eccentricity, I suppose we must tolerate that, for the sake of good relations.'

  'I'd give an arm to know what all this is about,' said Freddy. 'Why on earth would creatures from outer space be calling on old Ludo?'

  'Well, I can't tell you,' said Maud. 'I only know he was like a bear with a sore head when he came home last night, or rather, this morning. It is most unlike him.'

  'Here they are now,' said Wilfred. Adding a little doubtfully, 'At least, I think so.'

  With much primping of hair and adjusting of shirt-fronts they prepared to meet their exotic visitors, now processing with slow formality across the lawn. Between them walked a preoccupied-looking Professor.

  'But they seem perfectly normal,' declared Maud, in a stage whisper. 'Albeit rather oddly dressed. Which of them is your monster, Daphne?'

  'Neither,' said Daphne, shaking her head. 'How very strange.'

  'I thought all along you must have imagined the ears,' said Charles.

  'But you saw them too!'

  'A trick of the light, I daresay.'

  'And one a female,' marvelled Freddy. 'Now that is a surprise.'

  'They must have them, Uncle,' said Wilfred reasonably, 'or there wouldn't be a great many Venusians.' Then, glancing at Daphne, he wondered if it was a suitable thing to say in front of a respectable young lady. Fortunately she seemed not to hear.

  The woman of the duo – for she appeared so entirely human that one could scarcely have described her otherwise – was quite striking. Perhaps in her early thirties she was tall and slender with shingled raven-black hair and the palest of skin. She might almost have stepped from the pages of "Vogue," had not her dress, while superficially correct in the matter of wa
ist and hemline, shown evidence of having been hastily adapted from some earlier style. This womanly detail was, of course, invisible to Wilfred who noticed only the beautiful, shimmering fabric that moulded itself perfectly to her handsome figure.

  In contrast to his elegant companion, the male Venusian was rather plump, a full head shorter and perhaps ten years younger. With his equally dark hair and large, heavy-lidded eyes, he shared with her a somewhat middle-eastern look, but his skin, like hers, was almost translucently pale, as if it had never seen the sun. His clothing was extraordinary and grew progressively more so the further down him one looked. His coat was conventional enough, but his waistcoat was a most arresting custard-yellow and instead of trousers he had on black breeches with yellow stockings and yellow spats to his shoes. His companion carried a bouquet of strange orchid-like flowers, while he carried something resembling a large pineapple. The Professor, for his part, seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  Arriving on the terrace, the visitors bowed slowly and deeply to everyone in turn – naturally causing them to bow and curtsy back – after which they stood and gazed wordlessly at their hosts, the woman cool and poised, the man wearing an ingratiating smile.

  'Ah, hmm, yes indeed,' said the Professor, belatedly taking his cue. 'May I present Veleema Borsu, Migraani of the Blue. May I also present His Excellency Vantijmo Haramu, Tuuntu of the Yellow and envoy to the court of her Most Excellent Highness Chopminta Haalijsu, Queen-Goddess of Venus and, er, Empress of all the Planets. This is my wife, Maud, our daughter Daphne and her fiancé, Mr Charles Prendergast. This gentleman is my good friend Mr Freddy Carstairs and this is his nephew, Mr Wilfred Carstairs.'

  There were rather self-conscious mutterings of 'How do you do?' followed by a stifled gasp of surprise mingled with relief as the visitors responded appropriately in perfect, if oddly accented, English.

  Then together they chanted, 'We who are your slaves bring you these unworthy gifts. We fall at your feet. We grovel before you.'

  Happily, neither attempted to do so. Instead they presented the flowers to Maud and the strange fruit, with great ceremony, to an astonished Daphne.

 

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