by Basil Copper
IX
For a long time that night I sat in the tower of No. 1 Post, looking out over the grey-greenish ocean whose glow seemed to symbolize the half-life in which the peoples of the world were living. Rort had radioed to K4 immediately on our return from the village and Masters had ordered a general watch kept throughout the night, both at our post and at the main station. According to Rort, the Commander had placed great importance on our information and was reacting with typical vigour. I could imagine the activity which was currently going on at K4. He had approved our action of supplying the village with a transmitter and McIver had already been through experimentally a quarter of an hour before.
There was nothing to report, but I had asked him to check with us three times a day in future. Rort was in the living quarters below, checking on the specialized equipment. I had the first watch, until midnight when Rort was to relieve me. Blown spume obscured the windows and the wind made a keening noise among the rusting antennae of the old post. Both Rort and I were thankful for the thick walls and heavy bolts on the main door. The traces of jelly-substance which our visitors had twice left behind them filled us both with a vague foreboding.
Though it was easy to become obsessed with sombre thoughts. This was why the Central Committee had decreed that research workers in the field, particularly in such spots as this, should be relieved after a year. Some of our colleagues at K4 would not be affected by such an atmosphere. I felt that Masters himself would have been posted to Hell and have felt only scientific curiosity at the prospect.
And the Australian, Lockspeiser, was a tough character; unimaginative and strong-minded, he could have worked at K4 for years without knowing such a word as "atmosphere." Fritzjof too was a man to be relied upon. The others I was not so certain about. And though Rort's nerves were not all they should be—he had gone through experiences enough to shake the strongest over the past few years—there were few companions I would have rather been with in a tight corner.
With these reflections and others, I drank the coffee Rort had left me and then, lulled by the faint rustle of the gusting wind round the tower, I must have dozed for a few minutes. When I awoke it was just before eleven. I rose yawning, for I had certain instrument checks to make. I went out onto the rusted steel platform which airily circled the tower, in the manner of an old-fashioned lighthouse. We had some trouble with the sliding door some days previously but now it had been greased and moved back smoothly beneath my hands.
I stood looking idly at the green sea reflected on the underside of the dark, louring clouds; green sky and green sea made a fantastic sight for those experiencing the phenomena for the first time, but these were old scenes for such workers as ourselves and I was watching for other signs. I made a few notes, checked the instrument levels on the delicately calibrated machines in their lead-lined boxes on the windy perch, and withdrew into the central chamber. I relocked the door. This undoubtedly saved my life.
It was just a quarter past eleven when the slithering began. I could hear it even above the faint mumble of the surf and the echoing sigh of the wind. The noise resembled an unpleasant suction process; swamp water boiled in it and blown spume and a nauseous tang like corruption on the high wind. And with ,the rotting perfume, which I had smelled before, freedom of action returned to me. I picked up my flash-gun and buzzed for Rort. He had already heard the sounds too.
"Main doors secure!" he yelled and then I heard his feet pounding on the metal-plated stairs. Something screamed from outside, freezing blood and bone, inhibiting action, paralyzing the will. A girl's face grew at the window, distorted; it gazed in at us fearfully, hair streaming in the wind. The thing was an impossibility; we were more than forty feet from the ground—unless she could scale perpendicular walls, wet with sea-spray, in semidarkness. I recognized the girl I had met on the cliff-path, the girl we had supposed sea-drowned in the cave.
She screamed again and as Rort flung himself to the outer platform door, I pinioned his arms; we struggled silently and the air was filled with a sickly, nauseous perfume. Something like squid-ink purpled the thick plate-glass of the outer ports; suckers waved hideously in the night. A face like an old sponge, oozing corruption, looked in at us; the girl disappeared.
"Great Future!" Rort swore. He sprang to the rocket lever and bright stars of fire burst over the tower, bringing writhing daylight to the ground below, where vast forms slithered and slid and shuddered worm-like. Rort screamed like a woman then and we both made for the stairs. On the ground floor, the great door was already bulging inwards. The smell of corruption flowed under the panels. Sanity returned in this extremity; wood roasted, metal burned white-hot, and the gelid mass mewed like a cat as Rort fried the door with his flash-gun.
Sinews cracking, we levered casks, metal boxes, anything with weight into the gap cut in the door, avoiding the mewing, dying thing which dabbled beyond the threshold. I seized a coil of rope. Upstairs, in the central tower, plate-glass shattered like doomsday. Instruments fell to the ground with a clatter. Rort at the stairhead blasted fire into the central chamber. Again the bleating cries, the nauseous stench repeated. I opened a casemate on the landward side, secured the rope, hurled it into the dying darkness. I prayed none of the creatures were on this side. I called to Rort, walked down the wall on the rope, flash-gun cocked. Something shuffled, the bushes whispered in the wind. Chaos in the tower and at the central door. Rort joined me; he was crying under his breath. His flame-gun made a bloody arc through the bushes and something scuttered with a squamous step. Then we were clear of the bushes, running strong, slithering and falling and leaping again until we were splashing into the less frightening terror of the swamp.
Rort was sobbing. "By Future!'' he panted. "Did you see their eyes, man? Did you see their eyes?"
Blinded by sweat, elbows tucked into my side, I had no breath left to answer. With straining lungs we flew onwards to the safety ofK4.
X
Masters looked grim. Once again the silver of the lamplight on his hair reminded me of a long-gone saint. Those not on watch by the heavy-duty radiation-units sat in a semicircle and listened to his instructions. There were about a dozen of us and we had absorbed what he had to say with the utmost attention for we all knew our lives most probably depended on it. McIver had been warned; the Central Committee alerted. But we could depend on no help from outside.
Masters had questioned Rort and myself minutely, both when we had made our first somewhat incoherent reports in the privacy of his office, and then in general conference.
"What creatures could scale walls like that and still have weight to break down such doors?" asked Fitzwilliams, with that mocking touch of scepticism which I found so exasperating. It was the fourth time he had asked the question in the last hour. Rort turned a flushed face to him. Anger trembled in his voice.
"Would you care to go out there now and find out for yourself?" he asked quietly.
Fitzwilliams blew out the air from his lungs with a loud noise in the silence of the conference room. His eyes appeared suddenly uneasy. He looked away awkwardly and said nothing.
"Matters in hand, gentlemen," said Masters succinctly. Everyone gave him attention.
"Nature of creatures, unknown. Appearance of girl at window; physical impossibility under normal circumstances. Circumstances not normal. We'll leave that for the moment. Possible source of emanations; cave near the village. Correct?"
He inclined his head towards me. I nodded. Masters got up and went over to the duty chart.
"General situation: emergency, lady and gentlemen''—the use of the female singular was a courtesy due to Karla's presence. "So far as we can tell K4 is immune from any possible attack. Two first priorities. The manning of No. 1 and No. 2 posts by adequate force. This means equipping with heavy radiation-units. Two: the investigation, tracking down, and destruction of these creatures. Now, I want to see you and Rort again, when this conference is over.''
The meeting continued in Masters's brisk, inimitable manne
r. Rort and I, sitting facing the Commander in the bright lamplight, felt the first comfort since we had emerged from the depths of the swamp the previous night.
XI
Nothing happened for a week. Rort and I were among the strong party which had reconnoitred No. 1 Post the following morning. The burst door and windows, the smashed instruments, above all certain remains among the debris were enough to silence the strongest doubters. I noticed, maliciously, that Fitzwilliams had not volunteered to accompany the party.
A tractor vehicle with a heavy radiation-unit mounted on it, led the way. With the power available, this would be enough to deal with any known dangers. Fritzjof, who had volunteered to head the manning of No. 1 under the changed circumstances, led the party. He seemed as disappointed as Rort and myself at the lack of any tangible evidence on the nature of our visitors. There was the stench, it is true, and traces of jelly on the stairs, in front of the door and in the upper chamber. But of the creatures which Rort had certainly destroyed, there was not so much as a fragment of bone or a sliver of hide.
Part of the problem was solved by careful examination of the walls of the tower. They had been scaled by some form of suction. Fritzjof smoked his pipe silently and pondered this; the grey light of the cliff-top seemed to flicker across his strong, square face. His empty sleeve, pinned to the front of his leather jacket, flapped in the wind.
He grunted. "Flying octopuses, that's what we're dealing with," he said jocularly. He strode confidently into the tower. His remark broke the tension and the remainder of the party followed in a relaxed atmosphere.
The next few days were occupied in putting things in order at the two posts and certain precautions were also taken in the village. No. 2 Post was on the far side of the island, on a point commanding all directions, both inland and to the seaward side. Masters felt it imperative to get both posts in full working trim; we did not know what we might have to face and early warning was necessary, especially if K4 itself were attacked.
Masters held another conference a few days afterwards, when he asked for volunteers to man the forward posts. I am ashamed to say so, but both Rort and I were relieved when Masters decided to second us to duties at K4. He felt that we had done our share and it was perhaps cowardice on our part to agree with him, but there was much sense in what he said; our nerves had been strained almost beyond endurance and we might perhaps have been weak links in a chain of new and untried personnel.
Masters had decided to detail four people for each post, which would leave twelve for K4, an adequate margin. Each post had two radio links and they were to report at regular intervals. The heavy radiation-units commanded the main doors and if necessary the parties could escape mounted on the tractor vehicles. Needless to say, each party member was heavily armed. Two flash-guns at least were to be mounted on the outer platforms of the towers to repel any attempt at invasion by the things, and powerful floodlights encircled the buildings.
The damaged equipment was repaired and after a while Masters expressed himself satisfied that everything possible had been done to ensure the safety of the personnel and the success of the arrangements. McIver's people were keeping watch near the cave entrance in daylight hours, but they had reported nothing. This did not mean that the things were not at large on the island; if they could swim—and there was no reason to believe they could not—they might well make their way to and from their lair unobserved at high tide, when most of the cave area was submerged.
Lockspeiser was to command No. 2 and Karl a had volunteered for No. 1, much to my surprise; this in turn had changed to astonishment when Masters had agreed without demur. But then I thought things over and saw the sense of the arrangements; Karla was as expert as a man with flash-gun or radiation-unit and was quite without fear; these were the things which would count at the forward posts, whereas those with high scientific qualifications would be needed for the more exacting work at K4 and as post commanders.
The week passed quickly, in a feverish chaos of work, calculations, and hard physical labour. Masters inspected both posts and expressed himself satisfied; the radio links were tested. Early on a grey afternoon of wind-scoured sky the two groups marched out in opposite directions; it was a brave little show, though pitiful enough under the circumstances, and one or two of the hardier spirits raised a ragged cheer to encourage them on their way.
Rort and I sat in the main instrument chamber of K4 at the power telescopes and saw No. 2 party out of sight. Then we changed round to the other side. Fritzjof's small expedition were but faint dots on the high uplands now, Karla walking behind. Then a dip hid them from view. Rort and I did not know that we had seen our colleagues for the last time.
XII
I woke out of a dreamless sleep to find alarm bells ringing through the corridors of K4. The lights in the room where Rort and I were sleeping had come on automatically and it was only a moment or two before we had drawn on our night-duty overalls and were on our way to the main Control Room. Though there were only a dozen people left in the headquarters building it felt like a fort manned by thousands of men, as footsteps echoed, magnified, and distorted along the metal corridors.
Masters was already at the infrared periscope in the Control Dome, with Fitzwilliams operating the scanner. Rort and I sat in front of our own instrument panels and switched on.
"No. 2 Post reports Condition Normal," said Rort after a moment or two.
"McIver reports Condition Normal," I called out to Masters.
The night air was heavy with static and distorted human voices as technician after technician made his Condition Normal report. The operators of the heavy radiation-units, on the galleries above, overlooking the outer air; the men at the radar and other instrument panels; even those on visual lookout with flash-guns, all had their individual reports to make. A red light flashed on a control panel the other side of the Control Dome, indicating an abnormal state of affairs. Someone had failed to answer.
"No. 1 Post not replying," said the operator.
Rort and I exchanged tense glances.
"Radio failure?" someone conjectured aloud, hopefully. "Both sets?" replied Masters succinctly, his voice muffled from the Dome. No one replied. The uneasy silence was broken by the faint hum of the instruments.
The man at the No. 1 Post panel consulted a time capsule. "Nearly half an hour overdue in reporting," he said.
Nothing happened throughout the long night. Negative reports from stations operating; silence from No. 1 Post. It continued like this until dawn.
When daylight broke, misty and sulphurous, Masters had already made his plans. He personally led the four-man party, which included Rort and myself, out of K4. He had concluded, after some thought, that there was little danger during daylight as the creatures which had attacked No. 1 on the previous occasion had never been seen during the light hours. And if they inhabited the cave area on the shore by the village, their irruption into the world of men may have been governed in some way by the tides. But the overmastering desire of everyone at the moment was to discover the reason for the radio silence at No. 1.
We had not long to wait. No. 1 Post was a deserted shell. The remains of the door hung askew on its hinges as Rort and I had left it; the radiation-unit had been overturned but not damaged. The instruments and equipment of the post had been left intact. But of our colleagues there was no sign. Masters sniffed the air with distasteful curiosity. Once again that sickly sweet pungency polluted the atmosphere. Footsteps clattered on the metal stairs as the party searched the building. All they found was the clothing of our companions; it was soaked in the jelly-substance.
I walked over to the window at the top of the tower and looked out at the grey, sullen sea; of all the places in the world this was one for which I would always feel a high priority of hatred. As I moved to come away my foot kicked against something. I bent down and using the tongs supplied picked up something small and black. It was Fritzjof's official logbook.
Back at K4 that ev
ening Masters buzzed for me at about half-past seven. I had sterilized the logbook in accordance with standing instructions and I took it in to his office with me. Matters rested as they had the previous night; K4 was at emergency and hourly reports came through from No. 2 and from McIver normally.
The book made curious reading but Fritzjof's devotion to the cause of science combined with his iron nerve did much to explain the nature of the phenomena with which we were faced. The first entries for the previous night were normal and dealt merely with technical matters. For reasons which later became obvious there was a long blank and then Fritzjof's next entry in the journal was timed 11.50 p.m.
It read: "We have been under attack. At 10.02 precisely Fitzwilliams reported unusual disturbances around the tower. I at once activated the floodlights and rocket flares. At the same moment the main door of the post came under attack from some beings I shall attempt to describe later. Mazel immediately brought the radiation-unit into play, with some success. As soon as I saw that things were under control on the ground floor I hurried to the radio console but before I could establish contact with K4 was called at once to the tower, where Fitzwilliams and Karla were engaged with flare guns. There appeared to be dozens of invertebrate creatures of the octopus family attacking the post.
"They are immensely tall and armed with three long antennae equipped with suckers, on each side of what I will call the body, for want of a better word. Eyes or centres of intelligence, I can see none. But a hit at the top of the body where a man's head would normally be seems to affect the brain area. I am alarmed at our position for still more of them are gathering round the tower. Morale good.
"12.15. Another attack has been beaten off but I cannot get back to the radio console. There is a strange perfume coming up the stairs. The radiation-unit has ceased firing. Mazel cried out once but we have not been able to see what has happened. I have to stay here to defend the staircase. The tower has been under attack again. Fitzwilliams and Karla are handling themselves well.