'Please don't cry,' he said helplessly. 'Here, take my handkerchief. It's clean. Look, you're just homesick, that's all. We all are. And sick of each other's company too, I daresay. I know I am.'
Daphne's expression abruptly changed. 'Why don't you go then?' she snapped. 'I never asked you to come in here. Why do you keep following me about if you're sick of my company? Go on! Go away and leave me alone!'
'No, no, not you,' stammered Wilfred, shocked by the vehemence of her attack. 'I'm not sick of your company.' But she suddenly seemed so wild-eyed and angry he was afraid that she might make a scene.
As he left the room, he could hear her sobbing again. At first he thought he ought to fetch Charles or the Professor, or even his uncle, who could be guaranteed to cheer up anyone eventually. Instead he decided to go and see the Migraani. It was her fault, after all. She had clearly been pushing her pupil too hard and only she could put things right.
Since the start of the voyage he had grown rather to like the complex but self-contained Venusian. He respected her, and had reason to believe she respected him. Although he loved Daphne to distraction, he had no illusions about her character. She was a lovely, innocent butterfly, full of sweetness and light, but that was all she was. He doubted that before the advent of the Venusians a serious thought had ever entered her head. In the Migraani, however, he felt he recognised a kindred spirit. They were not friends – she had no friends – but he felt they understood each other, that their minds were not entirely unlike. She would, perhaps, listen to him when she would not to anyone else.
Wilfred turned and made his way quickly forrard again, for if Daphne's wonted place was at any porthole facing Earth, the Migraani's was the main deck. He could tell that she sometimes found the presence of Daphne's unlooked-for retinue irksome, and she cannot have expected the complication of a fiancé, but although she discouraged excessive familiarity she was always civil enough. Indeed, with her mordant wit and high intelligence she could be pleasant company, willingly joining in the evening games and chatter. Occasionally, however, she seemed to slip into a darker mood and would disappear below to spend hours alone in her tented boudoir, or at the piano. She had become very interested in the instrument and was making a serious attempt at learning to play. Already she was making quite impressive progress, and there was something rather homely and comforting about the constantly repeated scales and arpeggios drifting up from below. He was halfway to the stairs, following the sound of a quite passable attempt at a Chopin prelude, when there came a loud crash, at which the whole ship seemed to shudder, and without knowing quite how he got there, he found himself dangling high over the striped roof of the royal apartments, clinging for dear life.
Daphne's white face appeared above him. 'I say, are you all right?'
'Yes, I think so,' said Wilfred. 'Are you?' Hauling himself back over the gallery-rail he again had to hang on tightly as the ship was further convulsed. Daphne, he could see, was doing the same. This time the noise was deafening, like a whole street of dustbins rolling and bouncing downhill.
Charles appeared from his cabin, collarless and with his shirt unbuttoned. 'What the blue blazes is going on? I nearly cut myself shaving.'
'Help!' cried a voice from below. 'Help me!'
They found the Migraani pinned beneath the fallen piano, the rest of their stores and belongings tumbled chaotically about.
'Are you hurt?' asked Charles. 'You'd better not try to move.'
'I am not injured, thank you. Kindly take this thing off me.'
Freddy and the Professor joined them and together they struggled with the heavy piano, dragging the Migraani from beneath it before clawing their way back upstairs. The ship continued to reel under a steady rain of blows and at one point a distinct lump appeared above their heads as some hard-edged object struck the thin plating of the hull.
This looks serious,' said Charles. 'Is anyone on the bridge?'
'The Tuuntu's up there, I think.'
They found the Venusian envoy peering perplexedly into the glass of the armagijt. 'I don't understand,' he complained. 'Space is empty here.'
Under the circumstances this was an extraordinary remark, for one had only to look outside to see the opposite. All around and far into the distance were rocks: some mere pebbles, some so large that one could imagine landing on them. Almost invisible in the shadows, they were silvery where they caught the light of the sun.
'Why, they must be asteroids,' marvelled the Professor. 'How fascinating!'
'Look out!' warned Wilfred.
Everyone ducked and winced as a football-sized rock bounced off one great, insect-eye window, mercifully without cracking it.
'Never mind fascinating, Ludo!' cried Freddy. 'What are we to do?'
'Can't we stop, or at least slow down?' asked Wilfred. 'It might lessen the impact.'
The Professor shook his head. 'That may not be possible. You are forgetting, I fear, the law of inertia.' He turned for corroboration to the Tuuntu, who turned to the Migraani, who shrugged and shook her head.
'Then we'll just have to drive out of here,' said Charles impatiently. 'Best strap yourselves in.' Hurrying to the steersman's chair, he barely had time to swerve the ship as a boulder the size and shape of a London bus came tumbling directly towards them, while another, almost as large, only narrowly missed their starboard fins. More followed, and for well over an hour he was obliged to remain at the helm, practising again the skills that had kept him alive over the Western Front. It was impossible to avoid the minor debris, some of it no more than gravel, but never once did they touch a rock of any size, though many came dangerously close. Only when sure of clear space ahead did he reluctantly return the battered vessel to the care of the armagijt. 'Though goodness knows what it thinks it's doing,' he grumbled, 'because I'm sure I don't.'
Rising from her chair, the Migraani rather stiffly offered her hand. 'Thank you, Mr Prendergast. It seems we are in your debt. I fall.' Then without further comment she left the bridge, accompanied by the Tuuntu.
'That was sterling work, my boy,' said the Professor. 'Well done.'
'Yes, good show that man,' said Freddy. 'I say, I could murder a cup of tea. Where is Agnes?'
'Oh dear, I'd quite forgotten about her,' said Daphne. 'I hope she's all right.'
But at that moment the little maid appeared carrying a tray of sherry. 'Mr Simms says that dinner will be ready shortly,' she said.
Chapter 10
Later, lingering over the port, the men exchanged tales of previous adventures, Daphne and the Migraani having retired, exhausted, to bed.
'And there I was, covered in mud but apparently unscathed, with my plane upended in a shell-hole,' said Charles. 'By chance I'd come down in no-man's-land, but considerably closer to the enemy lines than our own. I could see Fritz as clearly as I can see you, a machine-gun nest about a wicket's length away. I thought: that's it, Prendergast, your number's on the next one.'
'And then what happened?'
'Something of a miracle. A shell came over and landed between us. It blew me into the hole and them to kingdom-come. I immediately got up and ran like billy-oh. Our nearest position was a good way off, maybe four or five hundred yards over some fairly rough going, but there were the remains of a building – a barn or something of the sort – at about the halfway mark, and I thought I might be able to duck behind it and get my breath back. I very nearly made it too, and then the beggars got me in the thigh.'
'I say, what bad luck,' sympathised Freddy.
'Yes it was rather. Anyway, there I am, more or less waiting for them to finish the business, when suddenly this British staff-car appears! The driver gets out, cool as a cucumber, salutes me, opens the door and in I climb, for all the world like some Field Marshall. Seems he'd been caught out by a sudden advance and decided to lie low in the aforementioned building until dark. Of course, once he'd shown himself, it was no use hanging around, so we ignored the road, which was pretty beaten-up by that time, and went l
ike smoke for our trenches. There were bullets flying all around us, but to our mutual surprise we made it.
'The car was a write-off, of course, and the poor fellow was in a terrible state. Reckoned he'd lose his stripe for wrecking his governor's pride and joy. In the event he got another out of it. That was Simms, of course, and after the war I knew where to go for a good man. He's been with me ever since.'
'Quite a tale,' said Freddy. 'Finish the bottle, anybody?'
'Yes, remarkable,' said Wilfred politely. He was too young to have been in the war and felt it keenly. Would Daphne have more regard for him if he had? He supposed she found him boyish and callow compared with the worldly Prendergast.
'Well, I'm very glad you chose the Flying Corps and not the Cavalry,' said the Professor, 'or I fear things might have turned out rather differently tonight.'
'What I'd like to know,' said Freddy, 'is how we came to be among the asteroids in the first place. Weren't they in that armagijt thingy of yours, Tuuntu?'
The Tuuntu affected not to hear. It was a mystery to the others why he did not withdraw nightly with the ladies, for he was clearly uncomfortable in their company and seldom had much to contribute to their masculine conversation beyond the occasional foolish boast or disparaging remark. Tonight he had said nothing whatever, only drinking heavily the despised Earthling wine and staring moodily into his glass.
'Oh, they're in there all right,' said Charles, answering for him. 'Just not in the correct place. Isn't that so, Professor?'
'So it would seem,' agreed the Professor, looking a little uncomfortable. 'Although not knowing our present position, I cannot tell how large the error might be.'
The Tuuntu eyed him sourly. 'I do not understand this talk. The armagijt cannot be in error — it is impossible.'
'But surely if there were rocks where the armagijt showed empty space . . .' began Wilfred.
'The armagijt is never wrong!' snapped the Tuuntu. 'You Earthlings know nothing. You do not even have spaceships, only silly aeroplanes that fall from the sky.'
This outburst was so rude, even by the Tuuntu's standards, that everyone was briefly shocked into silence.
'I say, steady on, old chap.' protested Freddy.
But the little Venusian stood up, suddenly pink-faced and trembling. 'I am not well. Please forgive me. If anyone requires me, I shall be in my cabin.'
'Well that was a rum do,' said Freddy, when he'd gone. 'What do you make of it?'
'It's perfectly clear to me,' said Charles. 'The fact is, we've found him out. Far from trying to conceal the armagijt's secret from us, it's my guess that he hasn't the least idea how it works, or even if it works.'
'All the same,' chided the Professor, 'I cannot see what purpose is served by antagonising him.'
'Sorry Professor,' said Charles, 'but I don't see why he shouldn't know the score. He could have killed us all with his confounded foolishness, and might yet. For aught we know, we could be thousands of miles off-course.'
'We might well be,' agreed the Professor, 'and that is a matter for considerable concern. However, I do not find myself entirely surprised. Have you ever noticed the treads of the stairs?'
But before anyone could respond to this extraordinary question, Simms came into the room.
'Beg pardon, My Lord, gentlemen, but Agnes wonders if Mr Wilfred could spare her a few minutes, to help with the thaal.'
'What is the problem, Simms?' asked Wilfred. 'Is he unwell?'
'He's misbehaving, sir.'
'Isn't that a matter for the Venusians?' frowned Freddy.
If you'll excuse me, it's probably better that I deal with him,' smiled Wilfred, rising from the table. 'We've become quite good chums, you know.'
'I sometimes wonder about that nephew of yours, Carstairs,' said Charles.
The Venusians' servant had not been an easy patient. During the first weeks of the voyage he had needed help even to feed himself, and spent much time asleep, barely waking for Agnes to wash and dress his wounds. As he began to recover, however, he became steadily more restless and irritable, often swinging his wasted legs out of bed to try and stand up, only to fall back exhausted. Still he persevered, until one day the little maid returned from her duties to find him collapsed at the foot of the ladder leading to the throne room, although whether he had crawled or walked there it was impossible to say.
'Now that was just silly, wasn't it?' She chided. 'You're not nearly well enough yet to go wandering about. You don't want me worrying about you, do you?'
Naturally the other Earthlings took a keen interest in this wonderfully exotic being, and to begin with they would often visit him, bringing an apple or a few squares of chocolate as a gift. Ungraciously, he ignored them all, turning his face to the wall and refusing even to speak until they had gone away.
'I suspect they've exaggerated this creature's abilities,' said Charles disdainfully. 'Nasty, smelly thing.'
Only Wilfred persevered, hoping by his regular presence to gain the thaal's trust, or at least acceptance. One day he had the bright idea of lending him a gramophone to help him pass the time, and although he had had never seen one before, it wasn't long before he was selecting and playing his favourite records, showing a decided preference for jazz. He could even change the needle himself without assistance. This was encouraging indeed, and they decided to try him with a draughts board, setting it up on the bed and playing a few games by way of demonstration. To their delight, he not only took an interest, but by mere observation swiftly learned the moves.
'Quite the little Einstein, if you ask me,' said Wilfred, pleased to have proved Charles wrong.
'He's started to ask when you're coming next, sir,' said Agnes. 'Isn't that lovely?'
After some gentle probing they began to piece together a life-story of sorts. His name was Hawghi, or that was what it sounded like, and he had been taken from the wild as an adult. It seemed that his childhood had been a happy one, much of it spent in the water, but he proved extremely reluctant to talk of that period of his life, though he was perfectly capable of doing so. His ability to speak human Venusian was apparently fairly commonplace, but his smattering of English was unprecedented. No-one had taught him, he had just picked it up. Indeed, it was his linguistic skills that had caused him to be passed first to the court of the Migraani and then to the sub-queen herself, performing for her much the same functions as Simms did for Charles. When alone with Agnes, however, he would often chatter to her in Popti, the thaalids' own language. It seemed to amuse him to try and teach it to her, so that she would often surprise Wilfred by greeting him with a few words in that strange, plosive tongue.
One might have thought that such an intelligent and versatile servant would be greatly valued, but the human Venusians appeared to take his talents entirely for granted, ever ready to mete out summary punishment for the least perceived misdemeanour or shortcoming. The beating he had taken was evidently not the first, though he had been most unlucky in contracting some form of Earthly blood poisoning as a result. It seemed likely that without Daphne's intervention he would have died.
Feeling guilty about abandoning his friend during the rock storm, Wilfred now hastened after Simms, finding Agnes on her knees, trying to comfort the near-hysterical thaal.
'Oh sir, I don't know what to make of him. He keeps asking to go to the bridge. I've told him the gentlemen have quite enough to do without him getting in the way, but he won't take no for an answer. He threw all his draughts at me and then the board, the naughty boy.'
Hawghi turned desperate eyes on Wilfred. 'Not go home — ship wrong! Turn ship!'
'Come on, Simms,' said Wilfred. 'You take one arm and I'll take the other.'
Once he could see out of the insect-eye windows of the bridge, Hawghi seemed immediately to brighten. Shrugging off his helpers, he limped forward unaided to gaze long and intently at the stars. As he did so, his delicately translucent ears twitched constantly from side to side, almost as if he were listening for something,
and when Agnes attempted to speak, he gestured her to silence. Eventually he gave a satisfied little nod and dropping into the steersman's chair, swung the ship's blunt nose several degrees to port. There was the usual muted grumble from the engine and the great vessel settled down to the new course. 'Home now!' he declared.
'But what about the armagijt?' asked Wilfred. 'Don't you use it?'
Hawghi shook his head dismissively. 'Ptup,' he said. It was a word that needed no translating.
Far from relying on instruments, the thaal's method of navigation seemed to be entirely intuitive, requiring constant minor adjustments to their direction of travel. He seldom again left the bridge and even had his meals brought to him. He was not, in any case, allowed to eat with the others. It was noticeable, however, that in his presence, both the Tuuntu and the Migraani were markedly more deferential towards Daphne, addressing her simply as Voorni, and only speaking to her if spoken to. It seemed that even while treating him with contempt, they needed his approval.
'Our lives in his hands,' marvelled Freddy. 'And to think none of us realised it.'
'Not even the Venusians apparently,' observed Charles, drawing on his cigar. 'I find their relationship with these creatures incomprehensible.'
'I suppose he's quite sweet really,' said Daphne, 'and he's obviously devoted to Agnes. I wonder if they're all like that?'
'That is unlikely, my dear,' said the Professor. 'I daresay they vary in their character and intelligence as much as humans do. There are, after all, many millions of them.'
In the silence following this rather tactless assertion, Freddy stood up. 'I'm going to take a turn around the throne room,' he announced. 'Unless anyone fancies a game.'
'I could do with a stretch myself, ' said Charles, making to follow him. 'You could cut the fug in here with a knife.'
'Bit rich, considering he made most of it,' muttered Wilfred, whose own stock of tobacco had long since given out. Even his cigarettes had gone, mostly to Daphne.
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