The Giant Stumbles Page 5
“It won’t hurt him, will it?” she asked suddenly.
“It isn’t hurting us,” he said. “It just seems to create this nervous tension. I think everybody’s felt it. It’s just possible that the unconscious feeling about it made those people believe so easily.”
“Is it—radiation?” She caught her breath.
“I don’t think so. Rather the reverse process if anything. An over-activity of magnetic fields. It is the earth’s magnetic field which is being affected, and as the days go on more and more of these symptoms will appear. You’ll have to expect strange things to happen, Hal. Don’t be frightened. It isn’t likely to be dangerous.”
She laughed softly and went to him. ‘You dear chump,” she said quietly. “You don’t really know, do you?”
He shook his head and she kissed him.
“I shan’t really be frightened so long as you’re here,” she said. “That’s what matters.”
He kissed her and then turned away to the open windows. In a moment he began to laugh.
“What’s the matter, Ni?”
He turned and looked at her, the laugh still in his eyes. “The things you do to me, Hal. I just had the most astonishing feeling that we’re going to get away with it!”
Then they laughed together, in each other’s arms.
II
Far along the beach, Rex stopped walking. He stood there like a man who had stepped out of a dream, wondering where he was. He put a hand to his head and dosed his eyes a moment. When he opened them again be felt strangely cool.
“It’s crazy, of course,” he said, bewildered. “Crazy! What in hell’s the matter with me ?” He covered his face with his hands as if to blot out the memory of what he had done. “What made me do it?”
The dream of disaster was fading in his mind. He stared out over the calm sea, drawing slowly away over the smooth, wet sand, gleaming like glass under the moon. Stars shimmered on the mirror-surface, and he did not see why they were there.
It was as he turned back towards the white house that the glittering pieces caught his attention. He moved out in a long curve towards the new-washed sand.
“Fish,” he said, halting again. “Dead fish.”
His eye panned the beach, slowly. There seemed to be millions of dead fish, lying still behind the retreating sea.
He bent and picked one up. As he did it, an electric shock ran like a bum up his arm and he dropped the slippery thing back to the sand.
III
Leila came into the lounge quickly, not stopping as she usually did to stamp sand off out on the veranda. Hal was standing there alone.
“That man!” Leila said, breathlessly. “Give me air! It’s no Lothario, it’s an amorous frog. Do you know I’ve been a solid hour talking him off. It’s been absolute hell.”
“Which man?”
“Benstead.”
“Good Lord! I shouldn’t have thought that.”
“He’s emancipated. He’s come to himself. He’s got a brief wish to rape all the women he can see on the ground that he’s going to be dead next week. Honestly, Hal. I’m about all in.”
“I’m sorry. I’d no idea ”
“Don’t be silly. How could you know—unless he tried you first.” She got a long lime and soda and drank. “He’s queer, you know. Sort of all bottled-up inside. You can’t guess what he might do. I had the feeling once he was going to—to throttle me.” She shivered slightly. “Hell, I’m all of a shake.”
“Where is he now?”
“On the beach somewhere. He suddenly relaxed. I could hardly believe I was getting away. Do you know him well ?”
“I’ve met him once or twice. He just works with Nigel. Doesn’t often come here.”
She lit a cigarette and exhaled smoke in a relieved sigh.
“Where is Ni?”
“He’s—gone out,” Hal said.
“Since tonight I’ve had an odd sort of feeling he’s turned into Jehovah or something. Just as if he had something to do with the whole thing … Do you know’, Hal, I don’t quite understand myself. I really didn’t doubt him at all. I suppose I let everything wait on whether the storm would come or not Then when it did —dead on cue—well— She shrugged. “Do you realize we may be the only people in the world at this moment who know what’s going to happen?”
“If you feel that, Leila, why don’t you publish it?”
“It wouldn’t get into print.”
“You mean because they wouldn’t believe it.”
“I mean they wouldn’t publish at all. Rex explained why. Aren’t there any lights?”
“Something went wrong. Nigel’s gone into the village o try and find the electrician. Phone’s gone, too.”
Leila looked slowly round at her.
“Everything seems to be going,” she said. “You’re not trying to make our blood run cold, are you?”
Hal laughed suddenly. “You needn’t try with mine.” “You wait till Benstead gets you alone,” Leila said, and then looked thoughtful. “It isn’t that he’s repulsive. Nothing like that. It’s just this tension in him. Like watching a pressure cooker that’s going to blow up
Come to think of it, everything’s a bit like that.”
“Nigel thinks this house might be near the centre of some disturbance,” Hal said.
“I bet he’s right,” Leila said. “It’s been giving me goose pimples since I came here.”
“Leila—how well do you know Rex?” Hal asked suddenly.
Leila looked round, surprised, and a little suspicious. “Rex? Fairly well. We do business, you know. He’s shrewd.”
“Hard?”
“Very.” Leila smiled. “He’s a small king in his own world. That sort of man can be very difficult to get on with, specially when he got on top by himself. It’s puzzled me how Ni’s so friendly with him. He isn’t Ni’s sort ai all.”
“Golf,” said Hal briefly.
“I thought that. Ni’s a very good player.”
“Is Rex the sort of man who would stop at nothing to get what he wants?”
“My dear!” Leila laughed shortly. “They’re all like that, and he’s plus one. It’s a type. He wields the circulation like a cat-o’-nine-tails. He makes people, and he breaks them. He breaks them sometimes just because he doesn’t like them, or because they made him cross. He’s true to the type. But he’s shrewd on the job. For instance, he knows Ni’s value. Ni pulls in the readers, and Rex is for ever trying to add noughts to the circulation. Ni needn’t fear anything. He’s a top boy himself.”
“No,” Hal said, slowly. “He needn’t fear anything.”
IV
The car would not start. Nigel tried four times and nothing happened. He got out and walked from the garage into the moonlight.
“Coil’s had it,” he murmured. “There must be a considerable disturbance …”
He muttered in a mechanical sort of way as he began to walk quickly towards the lane that led to the village. The roofs stood up black and pointed above the trees. Windows gleamed in the moonlight. It was all very peaceful, still and ordinary.
As he came along the lane he saw a light in the doctor’s house. He turned in at the gate and walked up to the white painted veranda, bright against the black of the brickwork shaded from the moon. The light shone from open french windows, and he could see Harvey sitting in a chair, legs stretched towards the windows, a pipe dangling from a hand hanging over the chair arm, a book held at longsight distance in the other.
Harvey lowered the book as he heard someone on the veranda.
“Hallo, Nigel,” he said. “Can’t you sleep either?” “You can’t sleep?” Nigel said, leaning against the window jamb. “You’ve enough barbiturates handy.” “Never touch them, old chap. They don’t always go with Scotch. Help yourself.”
He waved the book at his small table where a bottle and siphon stood.
“My phone’s gone, Harvey,” Nigel said. ‘‘Can I use ours? It’ll be hefty. California.”
Nigel hesitated.
“Harvey, you’re going to hear something that will bock you,” he said.
“Do you want me to go out?”
“No. You stay,” Nigel said definitely. “I want you to hear.”
He turned suddenly and looked out to the bright-edged countryside under the moon.
“Not being followed, are you ?” Harvey said, ironically.
Nigel looked back at him. “No.”
He went to the phone, and the minutes began to tick by, first in waiting, and then in talking. Nigel talking, quietly, clearly, solemn and intent. Harvey looked round it him, startled, his eyes growing wide. Then he got up and came closer to listen. Nigel was giving details and figures which he seemed to know by heart. At last he finished, someone spoke for a while on the far end, then Nigel said:
“But surely you can check sooner than that?”
Further distant mumbling.
“All right, then. I’ll call tomorrow.”
He rang off and looked at Harvey.
“Good God Almighty!” Harvey said in a whisper.
Nigel got up. “I must get back.”
“Not so fast, man ! How did you get on to this? What does it mean?”
“You must realize what it means.”
“But it’s impossible.”
“Impossible because it may mean the end of men?” “Put like that, I suppose not. We could have wiped each other out by now … But what exactly is this?” Nigel explained.
“Just a pause,” Harvey said. “A stumble, as it were. Nothing more than that. A momentary hesitation. A thing infinitesimally minute in the progress of this planet, yet to us a thing so gigantic we can only start to imagine it.”
He pushed his fingers through wiry grey hair. “Obviously you were speaking to another scientist just now,” he went on. “But what can you scientists do?” “He will do nothing,” Nigel said, with faint bitterness. “He can’t get checks made immediately because”—he began to laugh softly—“because the day after tomorrow his request for a million-dollar grant for a radio-telescope comes up for consideration, and he’s got to drop everything for that!”
“He doesn’t believe you?”
“He doesn’t believe anything until it’s checked, and he’s dropping everything because of his million dollars.” “Incredible,” Harvey said. “But then, it’s all incredible. How did you come upon this?”
“Luck, I think. Our house happens to be near the centre of one of the electrical eruptions, on the fringe of where the storms break out. You noticed them?”
“I do now,” Harvey said. “But I hadn’t thought much of them before.”
“I’ll have that drink, Harvey.”
“Help yourself.”
Nigel half-filled a tumbler with Scotch and drank it off. Then he did it again.
“I’ll send you a bottle in the morning,” he said, and drank the rest.
“I’ve got plenty,” Harvey said, watching him. “And you could do with it.” He felt intensely sorry for the man.
Nigel went out to the veranda and stood there a moment, then, without another word, he walked heavily way through the dark garden. Harvey stood at the window, watching until the gate clicked and the heavy steps died on the lane.
Halfway back, Nigel’s walk became unsteady. He stopped after a while and talked with the moon.
“I’m drunk, thank heaven,” he said. He staggered lightly, then sat down on the grass bank under the hedge. No one believes me,” he told the moon. “They think you’re up there for ever. It’s the blind eye. They don’t want to see. It’s all getting confused. They feel something’s wrong, but they won’t believe. What the hell? does it matter? Could you save them?”
The moon smiled.
“Do you think it’s wrong to try and be ready? Do you know, if they go on being stupid, I won’t care. I’ll just save Hal and the kids. How? I’ll think. I must think, I’ve got to think. I found out about this, didn’t I? I hit the nail on the bonce. Smack. Inspiration. P’raps I can find the answer, too. There isn’t one. It’s all bloody nixed up. There isn’t a way out. You can’t stop it. Got to go with it. Madness. How can you go with it? Land, sea and air all mixed up, screaming. Great God. It turns my bowels to water. Everything falls apart. Where are you? Flying about with the bits. Driftwood. Flotsam. Junk. That’s you. Why worry? You always were. amoeba, you. Lesser stinkwort. Least possible stinkwort. Muddled minutiae. God only knows why He bothered with you. Or did He? Must be a disappointment. Give ‘em a sign, Sir. Write it in the sky. Hundred foot letters.
They won’t mind. They’ll think the sunset’s gone commercial and forget it. They won’t believe. They only believe in them. It’s like leaning on a broken string. They have only faith in What’s Here Now and a Wishful Think for the future. Does it matter ? Grubbing around, turning up gold with their snouts. I hate that man. He threatened my children.”
The moon receded in his sight, and quite suddenly he realized that someone was walking quickly towards him along the lane. He sat where he was and did not look for the newcomer until he was close to him.
Rex stopped, staring.
“What in hell are you doing there?” he said.
“Resting,” Nigel said. “What’s it got to do with you?” “You’re tight,” Rex said.
“Don’t I look wonderful ?”
“Where have you been?”
“I’ve been to the doctor. He gave me some medicine. Now I’m better. I could cry, I’m so grateful.” He got up, slowly, unsteadily. “I was just thinking about you. I was thinking what a stinker you are, and wondering why I never noticed it before.”
“You’d better get home.”
“Were you looking for me?”
“Hal said you’d gone out for an electrician. I thought you might have gone to find a phone. Did you?”
“I found a phone. I called California. Murray’s a quidheaded moron, like you. He wants to wait till he gets a million dollars. He wants to wait! He’s like you. He reckons he can make something out of it. He reckons he can sit and watch everybody else disintegrate and collect the profits when the wind dies down. A couple of bastards, you and him. You believe me, but you’re not thinking of humanity. You’re just thinking of you. It’s time you had something to think about, friend. You’ll exscuse me, I know.”
Nigel swung out a right fist with all the force in his powerful body. He hit Rex somewhere on the jaw and bowled him over backwards into the ditch. He fell in a heap and did not move for several seconds. Nigel remained standing there, rubbing his knuckles, which hurt.
Rex got to his knees and stayed there looking up.
“Just another phenomenon—a Queer Thing,” said Nigel. “But you get what I mean. I’m a bad case to threaten.”
He helped Rex to his feet, and Rex shook his arm way.
“At last I agree with you,” said Nigel. “I’d better get home.”
He went away down the lane towards the house standing white as rock against the sea. Rex patted his face with a handkerchief, and then began to walk towards the village.
The village stood like dolls’ houses, square-cut in the moonlight. The telephone box glowed at the comer of the Dost office. He went into it and rang his editor-in-chief.
“Kill Nigel Rhodes,” he said. “I’m convinced that he has become unbalanced and may do damage if he tries to publish anything …”
V
Nigel sat heavily on the bed and stared at Hal.
“He’s mad,” he said. “Rex is mad. We’ve got to prepare against him.”
“We will,” said Hal gently. “Don’t worry. Lie down.’
He turned and stretched out on the bed.
“I’m drunk, Hal,” he said, apologetically, and then fell asleep.
CHAPTER FOUR
I
The day was bright and hot again. The dead fish had gon
e away with the half tide in the night and nothing remained of the night’s phenomena but the blown fuses in the light and the telephone system.
Leila looked fresh, as one used to late parties and early office hours. Benstead came in from the beach, untidy and preoccupied. Hal got breakfast with Mrs. Barnes who came at eight. Nigel got up late, thick and with a headache, but clearer in the head than he had been for some days.
He went and bathed in the sea. The children—the two younger ones—were playing on the deck of the old barge and shouting and laughing at him as he swam slowly in the smooth, warm water.
He came up close to the rough, tarred side of her. She looked huge and solid then. He swam slowly round with the children following him along the edge of the deck above, calling out. At the green-hung piers of the jetty he caught the ladder and hauled himself up on to the runway. From there the new deck of the old barge looked as big as a tennis court. He jumped down on to it and joined the children.
Old drunken Jason had made a solid job of the deck, but he knew little about boats, and with the two hatches which gave access to the hull below there were no other openings.
As there were no portholes, the inside of the barge was like a tomb. Jason had got tired of the work; after fitting up some old water cisterns as water tanks for the world voyage dream he had vanished—or at least hidden himself every time Nigel got anywhere near.
“When are we going, Daddy?” John said.
“I don’t know,” said Nigel.
“It won’t go for years yet, with no engines in it, fathead,” said Harry.
There was a good deal of talk and argument, and then Nigel went back to the house alone. Hal was in the bedroom, changing.
“The barge,” he said, closing the door behind him. “It struck me as a safe place to keep the children. If anything happened as far as Rex is concerned.”