The Silent Vulcan

by James Follett

  Vikki gasped as the kaleidoscope of images and concepts flooded into her mind. Anne sensed her daughter's distress and tightened her arms, crooning gently to her as she had done when Vikki was a baby. Vikki started trembling, her fingernails dug spasmodically into Anne's shoulders. The young girl's body was trembling uncontrollably. "Hold me, mummy! Hold me!"

  The Wall rose slowly into sky, gathering pace. It would have been impossible to see it but for the faint glow that suffused its boundaries. It dwindled rapidly to a mere point high above the group and disappeared. Vikki brought her trembling under control but her legs were weak. Malone and Anne eased her onto the grass and sat beside her, Anne gripped her daughter's hands and felt the tension draining away. Vikki tried to speak but was unable to make any sound.

  "Don't try to say anything, darling," said Anne softly.

  "They've gone," Vikki blurted. She marshalled her thoughts and spoke with more confidence. She was helped by the concerned faces of her loved ones as they gathered around her. Ellen and David joined Claire, sitting on the grass. "The Visitors have gone. The Wall has gone."

  There was a silence for a few seconds that was broken by Malone.

  "Did they say why they came?"

  Anne wanted to tell Malone that his questions could wait but Vikki sensed her mother's concern and said, "It's all right, mummy. I want to say... Just give me a moment... The Visitors said that they had been to many planets, visited many peoples. In all cases they discovered that God had appeared to the peoples. Sometimes early in their histories. Sometimes recently. But always to offer guidance and salavation. But God has never appeared to the Visitors. It has tormented them for many of our millennia since they became travellers. They have wondered if they are..." Vikki hesitated. "The nearest word I get is `unclean' but I don't think it's the right word. They have wondered if they are unclean in any way and do not understand why or how if they are. So they study other peoples, hoping to discover the answer to why they are so different. What is it that makes them so different from the peoples of other worlds."

  The group digested this, each silent with his or her thoughts.

  "But why the Wall?" Ellen asked. "Why imprison us?"

  "It wasn't to imprison us," said Vikki. "It was to imprison them. A self-imposed quarantine. They didn't want their presense on earth to contaminate the earth. The Wall was as small as they dared make it so that we could live."

  "Did they tell you why they chose Pentworth?" Ellen asked.

  Vikki nodded and said simply, "They sensed the presence of a person they thought they could talk to. Just one person. Me."

  She talked for another five minutes, answering questions as best she could.

  They all heard the distant beat and turbine whine of a helicopter approaching from the south. They turned and saw the brilliant lights in the dark sky. The blazing quartz halogen lights were mounted on an army Westland Scout helicopter. The beams picked out the field. It hovered directly overhead, and then climbed so that its beams of light widened to encompass the entire field. As the sound faded, so they heard the roar of diesel engines and the heavy crunch and clatter of caterpillar tracks grinding on asphalt.

  Bathed in the light from the Scout, the group rose to their feet and trudged up the steep slope, stepping over the deep ruts caused by Brenda's last journey as they converged on the entrance to the field, drawn by the harsh sounds and lights of the military convoy.

  Chapter 59.

  A CHALLENGER BATTLE TANK turned into the field, roared forward and lurched to a stop, its engine idling, clouds of exhaust fumes whipped away by the strong breeze. Behind it were two armoured personnel carriers. Their fat tyres sank a little into the soft ground and they also stopped.

  The group gathered before the Challenger, oblivious of the menace of its long, intimidating 120 millimetre main gun. The commander's hatch on the tank's turret clanged open and the head and shoulders of a man in his mid-30s appeared. He was wearing a combat jacket. From within the tank could be heard the crackle of radio messages and the harsh hiss of white noise. The young officer studied the group for some moments before speaking in a cultured accent.

  "Good evening. I'm Captain George Halliday. 7th Armoured Brigade. Who are you good people?"

  "I'm Mike Malone. Acting chief of Pentworth's police," Malone volunteered. He was about to list all the names of those in the group but the tank commander held up his hand and leafed through a clipboard crammed with papers.

  "Detective-Sergeant Michael Malone?"

  "Guilty as charged."

  Captain Halliday folded his arms and looked quizzically down at the group. "Well, Mr D-S Malone. Perhaps you'd be good enough to tell me what the hell's been going on here?"

  Chapter 60.

  CAPTAIN JACK WEISMANN of 21 Army Intelligence Corp was a genial, mild-mannered, 45-year old who, it was rumoured by his colleagues, could be obliged to wear a uniform but only at gunpoint, and sometimes not even then. He was a skilled interrogator whose preferred technique was the amiable chat, not seeming to ask a stream of direct questions, but to seed his conversation with observations that would often prompt those he was questioning to volunteer information rather than allow such a likeable person to get things wrong. His tools were his fast shorthand, his urbane manner, his quick wit, and an ability to sum-up people within a few minutes. He had an uncomfortable feeling that Mike Malone was the real master at the latter.

  He was seated at the table in Anne Taylor's large kitchen, with David Weir and Ellen on one side, and Mike Malone, Anne and Claire on the other. Vikki sat at the far end of the table, watching him intently. It was three hours since the incidents in Baldock's Field and Captain Weismann appreciated that everyone was tired. He had been asking Vikki casual questions for ten minutes and had sensed that her reserve could easily become hostility if he pushed her too hard. The hissing charcoal lamp hanging above the table dimmed slightly and required a few pumps from Anne to restore its brilliance. It gave him a chance to ease the pressure on the girl.

  "Remarkable," he said, standing to take a closer look at the lamp when Anne explained how it worked. "And you say Selby Engineering made several hundred of these?"

  "At least six hundred," said Ellen.

  Captain Weismann's mobile telephone trilled. Hardly five minutes had passed during the interview when it hadn't rang. He answered, listening carefully and saying little other than an occasional grunt or an affirmative. He ended the conversation and looked at each in turn. "It's been decided to allow Pentworth a winding down period. No one other than army jobsworths such as myself will be allowed in or out of the exclusion zone for 24 hours." He smiled. "After that the ban will be eased to allow essential service teams in -- phones, electricity. It may sound harsh, but it gives us time to debrief key people such as yourselves, it gives the press hordes time to select a team to represent all of them, and, most important of all, it gives the people of Pentworth time to adjust."

  "It seems a sensible move," said Malone. "Will I be able to phone my kids?"

  "Of course, Mike." The army officer turned to Ellen. "Your car's outside, Ellen. Do you still want to return to your shop?"

  "Try and keep me away," said Ellen with feeling, rising. "Can David come?"

  Weismann spread his hands. "But of course, Ellen. You two have a good night's sleep. I'm sorry to be such a pest when I realise how tired you all are. Maybe I won't seem such a pest in the morning."

  Anne followed Ellen and David to see them out.

  "He's clever and damned dangerous," said Ellen in a low voice to Anne. "Do you think Vikki will stand up to him?"

  "She's done well so far," said Anne.

  "Vikki's not a very good liar," David observed, pulling the kitchen door closed.

  "She's a bloody useless liar," said Ellen. "Anne -- you've got to call a halt if it looks like he might worm anything out of her about Trinder. But try not to make it too obvious. If they learn the truth, the poor kid will become some sort of guinea pig."

&n
bsp; Anne nodded. "I realise that."

  They embraced and kissed, bidding each other good night. Anne returned to kitchen and sat at the table. Weismann gave her a warm smile. "Mr Malone is a good friend, Anne -- he won't let me question Vikki unless you're present."

  "He's a very good friend," Anne confirmed, catching Malone's eye.

  "Did you see the Visitors as friends, Vikki?"

  Vikki looked puzzled at Weismann's question. "How do you mean? What else could they be?" She held up her left hand. "They gave me this."

  "Yet you said that you hated it at first?"

  "I couldn't control it. I had to really concentrate to just to open and close the fingers."

  "But all is well now?"

  "Oh yes."

  "And yet imprisoning some 6000 people within the Wall was hardly a friendly act, was it?"

  "The Wall never hurt anyone," said Anne.

  Weismann raised an eyebrow. "Yet it has separated you from your husband, and Mr Malone from his children. There must be countless similar stories in Pentworth."

  "The Visitors didn't understand us," said Vikki. "They wanted to find out what made us so special in the eyes of God. That was why they came. To find out about us. It was a question I thought at them and they answered. As for the Wall, I think they were surprised at why we moved about so much -- why we were always in the wrong place."

  Malone smiled at that. "A good point. Take a look at a busy inter-section on a motorway any morning or evening and ask yourself why we condemn ourselves to always being in the wrong place. Or why we spend so much time and money on transport systems to ensure we're always in the wrong place. We accept it as normal because we can't see it from the perspective of an alien philosophy."

  Weismann had already come to the same conclusion. He decided that he liked Malone. Although the police officer had often answered questions directed at Vikki, the army officer was skilled at reading body language and gauging what questions Vikki seemed relieved not to have to answer.

  "Curious," said Weismann reflectively, making a note in rapid shorthand. "They know enough about us to grow a new hand for you shortly after their arrival, and yet you say they stayed for as long as they did to learn about us."

  Malone intervened again. "There's nothing curious about it, Captain Weismann. It's possible to learn much about the physical characteristics of a people from a tissue sample as simple as a nail paring. Learning about sociological-political and religious structure is a lot more complicated. I've been struggling with it for years. Let's not mess about any more. We're all tired. This 21 Army Intelligence Corp of yours. I confess I've never heard of it."

  "We've been around a long time," said Weismann carefully. "Since the Crimean War." "Let me guess. Among your responsibilities is assessment of enemy weaponry?"

  "Not necessarily enemy weaponry, Mr Malone. Weaponry outside our control." Weismann was about to ask Vikki a question but Malone intervened again.

  "Your principle concern is whether or not the Visitors have left behind anything behind that could cause harm or might be of military value. Correct?"

  "A technology that can produce such high levels of radio frequency radiation that it can kill foxhounds at a distance is something we'd like to know about," said Weismann guardedly.

  "Which we'll have in twenty years anyway," Malone replied. "Once we know that something can be done, we'll pull out all the stops to do it. That in itself is useful intelligence and a more useful line than chasing after philosophers' stones in Pentworth. It would've been better had you come clean right from the start as to what you're really interested in, Captain Weismann. Furthermore, your intelligence training ought to tell you that the chances of the Visitors leaving anything behind are small to vanishing. They gathered up all their belongings and left. They've left nothing behind. So, can we all go to bed now?"

  Weissman regarded the police officer thoughtfully. "I think I'll get you to write my interim report, Mr Malone. You're in the wrong job."

  Chapter 61.

  THE LONG DAY WAS OVER.

  For first time in over a month Vikki was safe and secure in bed her little bedroom, free from fear. Her mother and Mike Malone downstairs, her arm around Benji, her threadbare bear, Himmler a dead weight at the foot of the bed having gorged himself senseless on the remains of a chicken he had been given. Dario looking down at her as she tuned her portable radio up and down the band, searching for a pop music station that wasn't obsessed with news bulletins about Pentworth.

  Tomorrow she would have to face more of Captain Weismann's endless questions but at least Mike Malone would be at her side. The army officer had been friendly enough but there had been moments when his probing had driven her close to tears. Tomorrow she wouldn't have the excuse of tiredness.

  Vikki decided that she liked Mike Malone. To have someone on hand who was strong, trustworthy and protective towards her was something she wasn't used to. She now understood what her mother saw in him. That she was a little jealous of her mother was one of those uncomfortable little truths to be banished and dealt with another day.

  She found a foreign station that didn't seem to have heard of Pentworth. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the music, wondering how she would face up to the inevitable questioning the next day.

  There was something that she had not disclosed and would never disclose to anyone -- not even her mother or Mike Malone: that her baby was very special; that he would have the power to change the world if he so decided. The Visitors had said that they would return to earth in thousand years in the hope that they would find a world with many people like Vikki -- people they could talk to in their endless quest for understanding.

  THE END

  APPENDIX ONE

  ‘The Phantom Hand of God in the Placing of the Planets?'

  The German-born astronomer, Johann Bode (1747-1826), was an undoubted child prodigy. A self-educated mathematical genius who started publishing star catalogues in his early 20s that are still in use today. He was in his 20s when he popularized a "law" based on the work of Johann Titius that has astronomers at daggers drawn to this day. It was a wholly arbitrary law that hinted at divine intervention in the placing of the planets of the solar system in their orbits around the sun. At a time when astronomers were peering through their telescopes and making new discoveries everyday and seeing only chaos, Bode's Law came as bit of a shock. Strictly speaking, it's not Bode's and it not a law, but the principle is easy to grasp, requiring only an understanding of what an Astronomical unit (Au) is. Quite simply, one Au is the Earth's mean distance from the sun of 92 million miles.

  Bode's first step was to write down the following string of numbers:

  0 3 6 12 24 48 96 192 384 768

  The relationship is obvious: from the 3 each number is double the preceding number. Next he added 4 to each number so that we have:

  4 7 10 16 28 52 100 196 388 772

  Finally he divided each number by ten so that we end up with:

  .4 .7 1 1.6 2.8 5.2 10 19.6 38.8 77.2

  And here's where what many astronomers dismiss as coincidence creeps in. Mercury, the closest planet to the sun, is .4 Au from the sun; the second planet is Venus at .7 Au, and Earth is, of course, 1 Au from the sun; Mars is 1.6 Au.

  Those 18th Century astronomers who were jealous of Bode's reputation rubbed their hands in glee. "Okay, Herr Bode. So where is this planet that's supposed to be 2.8 Au from the sun between Mars and Jupiter? There isn't one."

  Then, in 1801, the first of many asteroids were found in what is now known as the asteroid belt located at approximately 2.8 Au -- exactly where Bode thought there would be a planet. Another boost for the Titius-Bode Law was in 1781 when Uranus was found at 19.2 Au -- the distance predicted by Bode was out by only 0.4 Au.

  Neptune, the planet that Bode predicted would be found at 38.8 Au, was not discovered until 1846 -- 20 years after his death. Its actual distance from the sun is 30 Au, so Bode's prediction was starting to wobble a little.


  It wobbled still further in 1930 with the discovery of the nineth and last planet, Pluto, at a distance of 39.4 Au -- a long way short of Bode's anticipated 77.2 Au. But, to be fair to him, Pluto is a bit of an oddball planet. Its orbit isn't concentric, and it's not even in the plane of the ecliptic like the other planets. Many astronomers now believe that Pluto is a captured body that wasn't part of the solar system to begin with. Or that it may have been a moon of Neptune. One noted astrophysicist has suggested that there might be a small, dark body orbiting the sun at Bode's predicted distance of 77.2 Au, the mythical tenth planet that has yet to be discovered. Stranger things have been known, but none so strange as the formula proposed nearly 250 years ago by a gifted German astronomer that hinted of a divine hand in the placing of our planet and its neighbours in their paths around the sun.

  APPENDIX TWO

  From: Daily Mail newspaper.

  Date: Saturday, February 3rd, 1996.

  FINDINGS OF THE JOINT AIR MISS WORKING GROUP (BRITISH AIRWAYS)

  A UFO? Actually, it was just our alien friends in the North.

  By Michael Harvey

  It flashed past silently in seconds. Illuminated by white lights like a Christmas tree, it came shudderingly close as the British Airways Boeing 737 approached Manchester Airport.

  The Boeing's bewildered pilots knew they had seen something. They weren't sure what.

  Yesterday, officials were also scratching their heads after a year-long investigation failed to come up with a convincing explanation.

  But there were knowing nods at the British UFO Research Association. Members are sure the mysterious craft, was the Silent Vulcan - a triangular shaped craft that has been reported cruising northern skies for 20 years.