Nick sensed it also—the presence, or
presences—but not the evil that had been such a foul emanation from
the Dark Ones. He heard a mewling cry from Jeremiah.
Then once more he saw the cat. With him was Lung who must have
escaped from Linda. The animals stood together and before them was
one of the weird forest beasts, larger than either, but bending its
head to touch noses with first the cat and then the Peke.
It was the one—or like it—that Nick had seen with the Green
Man—the creature Hadlett had named “enfield.” In color
this had a golden sheen, misted as the Herald and the People
appeared. And that radiance made clear its fox head, greyhound
body, the taloned, eagle-like forefeet, the canine hindquarters and
wolf tail.
What manner of exchange passed between the animals they had no
way of knowing. However, the enfield raised its sharp-eared head
and gave a cry that was neither bay nor bark, closer to song. It
was answered from the darkness about in various notes and tones, as
if the human party was now ringed by strange and alien
creatures.
The enfield turned its head to eye them. In its skull its eyes
were small yellow flames. For a second out of time it studied them.
Then once more it voiced the call. When it was answered, it was
gone, winked out as might be the flame of a candle caught by a puff
of breeze.
“What—?” Linda began shakily
But Nick knew, without words he knew.
“We have nothing to fear—from them,” he said.
“The freedom of the woodlands,” Hadlett added.
“Perhaps we have not been given full seizing, that ancient
right to estate under formal rule. But this much—”
“I don’t know what you are talking about!”
Linda burst out. “What was that—that thing? And, Nick, from
the sound, they’re all around us. What if—”
“We have nothing to fear,” he repeated. “Not
from them.”
Could they dare to hope they had acquired an escort? Or would
the unseen company of beasts merely remain neutral? He knew they
were still there, though he did not sight them. And with the
vanishing of the light radiating from the enfield he could no
longer see either Jeremiah or Lung.
“We’d better get on,” Nick added. What he did
not say was that he wanted to see if the other company would move
with them.
“Yes!” Linda was eager to push ahead. Undoubtedly
she wanted to leave the unseen behind. “Lung,” she
called softly. “Here, Lung!”
The Peke came to her readily and she scooped him up, holding him
as if she feared he might be snatched from her at any moment. Then
Nick felt the push of a furred body against his legs, stooped and
gathered up Jeremiah. The cat wriggled up, draped his body about
Nick’s shoulders stole-fashion. The American was a little
uncomfortable under the weight, but knew that he must be content
with Jeremiah’s choice.
Guided by the compass, they went east, skirting the open where
there was need. But their pace slowed. Nick knew without seeing or
being told that Mrs. Clapp was lagging, and he suspected it was
little better with the Vicar. They would have to rest.
When he suggested a halt there was no objection, and, using a
bush growth for cover, they dropped to the ground. Jeremiah leaped
from Nick’s shoulders to disappear. There was no measuring
how far they had come, but Nick wondered if they should not now
turn south, strive to cut across the trail of the missing.
Morning light would be better for a tracking attempt and he
pointed this out. To his surprise, the Vicar agreed. They planned
to keep watch, the three of them, allowing Mrs. Clapp full rest,
turn about.
Nick volunteered for the first sentry go. The moonlight somehow
appeared dimmer and he had to depend more on his ears than his
sight. He stuck the knife point down between his knees, resting one
hand on its hilt, and tried to think.
There was, he believed, very little chance of them being able to
rescue the others. But that fact they would have to prove to
themselves. Afterward—what could they do? Would it be possible to
slowly work their way back through a now totally hostile world to
the place they had left the jeep and there try Linda’s
suggestion of opening a return door? Nick thought they might try,
but the chances for success were close to nonexistent. What would
remain then? A harried, ever-endangered existence as the prey of
either the Dark Ones or the saucers. Perhaps they could get as far
as that farmhouse again. But there was the matter of food—And life
in a continual state of apprehension was no life at all.
The English had known that at home with the air raids, the
constant threat of invasion. Nick had read about it, but that was
all very far away and long ago. You could not understand such fear
until you, yourself, were forced to live with it. And he and Linda,
though the world they knew also had its violence, had not had to
deal directly with it before.
The best answer was still the city. But if the Vicar and Mrs.
Clapp continued to refuse—what then?
Nick tensed, jerking the knife free. He had heard nothing, he
saw nothing—but there was something out there now. One of the alien
animals? They had had an escort from that meeting, of that Nick was
fully convinced.
Now he heard a small whine. Lung came from where Linda lay. His
small body, when Nick laid hand on it, quivered as if he wished to
run forth in greeting. Nick could sense no fear, only
excitement.
There was a faint penciling of light in the air, outlining a
figure. Nick arose to face who—or what—stood there. The light grew
stronger, that figure more solid. Nick expected Avalon. But this
was Rita! “You! But—”
Then anger rose in him. “You gave us a very dramatic
good-bye. Why return now?”
Her porcelain face was without expression. “For your
purpose it will be enough that I have come at all. Those you seek
have been taken by the flyers, not the Dark Ones. If you would have
them forth, seek the sky hunters.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Nick demanded.
“By your own words you are apart from us, and Avalon cares
nothing for us.”
“True.” Now there was a faint troubling of her
expression. “But if you seek among the Dark Ones—then you
shall be totally lost. I would have you save yourselves.”
“And the others?”
Rita shook her head. “How can you save them? For those who
have taken them are mightier than you can hope to be. They have
weapons that are as far beyond those you have known as yours are
beyond bow, sword, and spear. Those they take are gone, accept
that.”
Nick’s anger, aroused by what he could not analyze,
remained steady. At this point had Rita said the sun was bright, he
would have denied it. At first he thought her information might be
a trick. Then he was sure it was true.
“Was that sound one of their weapons?”
“Yes. It compels—draws—”
“Then why did it not take us all?”
“I told you—you are different. The Great Power touched
you. Also he—and Maude—and the girl—they, too, believe, though they
deny it. Maude and Adrian Hadlett have the old belief in their
blood, their past. The girl—her dog has given her the open door.
You each had a small defense against that weapon, and Lung and
Jeremiah were fully armed. They are of Avalon in their own
way.”
He saw now by the glow of light about her that the cat and the
Peke were seated at her feet, gazing up at her as if entranced. She
stooped to touch fingertip to each furred head.
“Wise in their time are these,” she said.
“Wiser than we?”
“Ask that of yourself, not me.”
Her glow was fading, drawing about her. Nick moved.
“Wait!”
But she made no answer. Rita was gone.
“That’s a good act.” Linda was beside him.
“Do you believe a word she says?”
“Yes.”
“The trouble is, though I don’t like her—in fact, if
you want the absolute, down-to-earth truth, I think I hate her—I
believe her, too. Which means what, Nick? Can we possibly help the
others if the saucer people have them? I don’t see any chance
of doing that.”
“Right now I don’t either,” he confessed.
“They could have taken them anywhere.”
“It is not as hopeless as it would seem.” They were
both startled by the Vicar’s voice out of the dark.
“Yes, I have been awake, saw and heard our visitor. And I
also believe her. But, remember, we were brought to this continent
as prisoners of the saucer people. They had then a headquarters
here, not too far from where we were wrecked and freed. Surely any
prisoners they take will be found there.”
“But we haven’t a chance of getting in,” Nick
protested. “Rita was right, you know. They do have weapons
beyond anything we know. They stunned those men we saw netted. And
that sound—the rays they turned on the Herald. We have no
protection against such. It’s crazy to think we can get them
away.” But even as he protested, Nick knew that Hadlett would
remain unconvinced, determined to rescue the others, be that
possible or impossible.
“We seem to have a partial defense against the
sound.” It was as if the Vicar had heard nothing Nick said.
“What was it that Rita told you—Maude and I, through our
blood and the past—now what did she mean?” Nick thought he
asked that question of himself rather than his listeners.
“Maude is of Sussex, very old Sussex. She was a Boorde before
her marriage. And you heard her speak of her great-great-aunt who
had the Sight and the powers of healing. As for me—we have been ten
generations in Minton Parva, squires or churchmen, and I know the
old ways—
“The old ways,” he repeated. “Yes, Avalon, and
the People, I have long heard of them. Iron and the Church drove
them out, but they lingered for a space. Perhaps in England they
were in exile, perhaps they were colonists. ‘The
Gentry’ some called them—because they were indeed
‘gentle folk’ in the old meaning of the word, fair to
look on, courteous, sometimes helpful to man.”
“They had their faults, too, sir.” Mrs. Clapp had
been roused. “They disliked those who spied on ’em,
an’ there were them as made trouble. But they was known,
leastways to the old folks. These here flyin’ people,
they’re different, not like us at all. If they’ve got
’em—Lady Diana, Barry, Sam, Miss Jean—then how are we
goin’ to get them back, sir?”
It was as if her brisk question roused the Vicar from his
thoughts.
“That will take some consideration, Maude.”
“It will take more than consideration.” Hadlett was
not a man with whom to be brusque, Nick had known that from his
first meeting with the Vicar. But he would not accept some
unworkable scheme now. He worried too much about the powers of the
saucers. Perhaps, in a way, he could understand those better so he
really dreaded them more than the monsters he thought might be
illusions, horrible as those were.
“You are right, Nicholas,” the Vicar agreed.
“But,” he continued, “we now know where we must
search—to the north, not the south.”
That he was going to be able to argue the English out of
abandoning the search Nick already guessed was impossible. And to
leave them—that he could not. It would be up to him to try to think
up some telling argument, but at present his mind was a blank.
What he did do was question Hadlett methodically to learn all he
could of what the Vicar had observed during their captivity in the
saucer. That the flyers could stun their prey was the truth.
Rendered completely helpless such prisoners were loaded into the
saucers and it was some time before that effect wore off. When it
did, they were locked into compartments meant to be prisons.
The escape of the English party had been a fluke which might
happen perhaps once in a thousand times. Some motive power of the
saucer had failed and it crash-landed. The door to their cell had
been sprung and the English had found at least two of their captors
dead.
“Their helmets were shattered,” Hadlett explained.
“It is evident that they cannot breathe this air without the
protection of the snout-masks that are part of their headgear. That
is one advantage for us—”
A very small one, was Nick’s conclusion. How were they
going to break helmets in any battle when the enemy could stand off
and ray them down? The more he thought about it, the more he was
convinced this was a suicide mission.
“Were they all killed?” Nick asked.
“Yes. Barry and Sam went back to the ship—Barry had some
hope of learning their method of flight. But all he could discover
was that the ship was locked onto some homing device. What had
caused it to crash he could not discover. But the crew were all
dead. They were very small—dwarfish—and their skins blue. Barry and
Sam did not have time to learn much, for they found another machine
broadcasting what Barry thought was a distress signal. We hurried
away, which was prudent, for we saw in the distance later another
saucer—perhaps hunting the wreck.”
“Locked into a homing device,” Nick repeated. Then
if one had access to a saucer it would take one to their
headquarters—perhaps.
“That has some meaning for you?” the Vicar began and
then added excitedly, “But, of course, it would be the
perfect way, would it not, to enter the enemy stronghold
undetected.”
“The perfect way,” Nick reminded him, “to walk
straight into a prison and whatever the saucer people have ready
for those they capture.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not. It is a point to consider,
Nicholas. Yes, an excellent point to consider. Think of it this
way, my boy—if we were not altogether affected by their sound
weapon, then it could just be we could allow ourselves to be
apparently captured, to turn the tables—as the old saying goes—on
our captors.”
Fantastic! Did he really think that? It was the wildest
suggestion yet. Nick’s penetration into the city was as
nothing beside this.
“Could we do it?”
Nick nearly rounded on Linda hotly. Somehow he had unconsciously
expected her to support him in any trial of wills in their small
party, but listen to her now. “Could we use illusions for
bait?” she continued.
Nick’s annoyance faded. Though her face was only a blur in
the dark he stared at her. An illusion for bait? Then perhaps an
ambush of the saucer? No, it would not work—they had no weapons
except their knives—
“Now that, m’ dear, is right smart thinkin’. I
do believe, sir, that Miss Linda has an idea that might just
work—”
“And how do we jump them when they come down with the
net?” Nick raised his voice in protest. Pressure—a sharp
pricking against his leg. He exclaimed. Jeremiah had hooked his
claws well into Nick, demanding attention.
“Jeremiah.” Nick went to one knee, stroking the cat.
“What is it?”
Foggy—like trying to see a picture through a dense mist—outlines
that wavered back and forth, on which Nick tried to focus. Even
when he concentrated, the pictures were odd, as if he saw through
eyes that were not normal, having other qualities than his own.
Lung—certainly that bouncing creature was Lung at his most
exuberant. And there was the enfield, and. behind it other weird,
mixed things. The beasts of Avalon. Was Jeremiah promising now
their help?
Yes! Thought answered his unasked question.
It would be a plan of many pieces, and much would depend on
luck, on attracting a saucer, on timing thereafter. But maybe, just
maybe, they could do it. And it was better than just blindly
walking into trouble—which is what the Vicar might well do if Nick
did not produce an alternate plan.
“Sir,” Nick tried to bring all his powers of
persuasion to bear. “Do you think a plan such as this might
work?” As he continued, he thought of new details, added
improvements (he hoped they were improvements).
Thus it came about that hours later found them in the hot sun on
the edge of the open. Having set their plan they had rested and
then, with the beasts of Avalon guiding, they had reached this
point.
Now they were linked, men, women, dog and cat together, with an
ingathering of power. Perhaps they were again misusing that as Rita
had warned. But it was their only key. They lay in hiding, but out
in the open two figures walked very slowly. There was a limit to
their power of projection and Mrs. Clapp had suggested that instead
of trying to reproduce their whole party they create only two
illusions, that of the Vicar and herself. She and Hadlett had
formed those figures, Nick, Linda, and the animals feeding them the
sustaining energy.
Jeremiah and Lung were out there, pacing beside the slow-moving
illusions. There were others concealed in the tall grass. Nick had
suggested such were visible from above and there had been amusement
beamed from Jeremiah. Perhaps the beasts of Avalon had some native
protection against such sighting.
Now—all they needed was a saucer to take the bait. How long
would that take? They might have to set this scene many times, for
they could not hold any illusion long. How—
Not long at all! A saucer burst into view in one of those
instantaneous arrivals. It swooped, to center over the staggering
figures. Now! Nick gestured. The illusions slumped forward, lay
full length. From the belly of the saucer the net broke,
descending.
Nick could see twitching grass, the beasts were on the move.
Surely the aliens would spot that suspicious movement! But if they
did, they did not counter it. It was time for him to make his own
move. He was sweating, and not from the heat of the sun. It all
depended now on whether they did have any protection
against the alien weapons.
He began to run, zigzagging as he went, though that might be no
protection against attack. One of the suited crewmen was already
sliding down the rope toward the inert bodies, a second swinging
out of the hatch to follow him.
Then Nick was hit by a force from the saucer, as if a fist
struck him. As planned, he gave way, falling—which was only too
easy. They would think him a prisoner—perhaps he was. But he
summoned up the strength of will that he had commanded in the
woods. He could do this, his body was his own to order. He
could move. And he did.
The grass was tall about him, hiding most of the scene around
the net. Hadlett, Mrs. Clapp and Linda would hold the illusions of
the inert figures as long as they could. If their plan was to
succeed, they must hold until he reached the net. He saw now one of
the aliens prepare to slip the net around the illusion of Hadlett.
Behind the suited figure the grass moved. A small gray shape
leaped, hit the shoulders of the alien, clawing at the helmet. It
was joined by a flashing creature that could only be the enfield.
The other alien, partway down the rope, turned to reclimb.
Out of ambush arose a thing to swing up the rope with the
agility of its monkey body. Yet on its shoulders was an owl’s
head. With no difficulty at all it caught up with the alien,
scrambling over his body, so the suited figure lost hold and fell
back and down.
Nick was under the shadow of the saucer. The longer he had
fought the force that tied his limbs, the easier it became to move.
He reached the net. How many crewmen were still in the saucer? The
owl-monkey scuttled over the ground leaving a crumpled body behind.
The net was now burdened by a number of the beasts, weighting it
down. With any luck at all they should anchor the saucer.
Up! Nick caught at the rope ladder. But the owl-monkey was
before him, springing up as if this was a stairway. As it went, its
outline blurred, it became one of the suited aliens. Nick began to
climb. Was the party in hiding successful also? Was he now in the
likeness of a helmeted dwarf? Up and up—he hardly dared believe he
had made it this far. Now he was through the hatch, the
owl-monkey-alien disappearing through a door beyond. Behind Nick
came Jeremiah, able to use his claws on the ropeway.
Nick hurried after the beast. His impetus carried him into the
control cabin of the saucer. Flame flashed, outlined the owl-monkey
whose illusion had vanished. But the creature was as untouched as
the Herald under the raying. Nick leaped—there were only two
aliens, and the owl-monkey had beaten down the weapon of one,
bearing him down into the seat from which he had half-risen.
With a crash Nick met the other alien, carrying the smaller
figure back against the wall of the cabin. At the shock of being
slammed against it, the alien went limp. Nick held him for a
moment, making sure he was harmless. Then Jeremiah landed on the
suited form, his snarling face pressed against the surface of the
helmet. The eyes of the being inside were closed.
His fellow crewman was still struggling feebly but uselessly
with the owl-monkey who proceeded to draw him back to the door
opening into the hatch space. Nick, apprehensive, searched the
ship. But the four beings they had already taken were the entire
crew. Nick was shaking a little from reaction, unable to believe
they had done this thing.
Now he feared that the saucer might as suddenly vanish with him.
The two aliens, both still alive, Nick thought, were lowered to the
ground. Of the two who had been with the net, one was dead with a
cracked helmet, the other a prisoner. Nick could not kill in cold
blood, but to maroon them in the open country, prisoners of the
beasts, unable to summon help, was the answer. And the sooner he
got his own party on board, the better.
Hadlett and Linda could climb. But they activated the net to
raise Mrs. Clapp and Lung. Once that was inboard the hatch snapped
shut of its own accord, and the saucer quivered to life.
Nick ran for the control cabin, forced his larger body into one
of the seats. He could not hope to use any of the levers and
buttons before him. Like it or not they were on their way, locked
into an enemy craft, their destination unknown. And now that he had
time, he began to worry again. Their amazing good fortune with the
ambush could not continue to hold forever.
Nick sensed it also—the presence, or
presences—but not the evil that had been such a foul emanation from
the Dark Ones. He heard a mewling cry from Jeremiah.
Then once more he saw the cat. With him was Lung who must have
escaped from Linda. The animals stood together and before them was
one of the weird forest beasts, larger than either, but bending its
head to touch noses with first the cat and then the Peke.
It was the one—or like it—that Nick had seen with the Green
Man—the creature Hadlett had named “enfield.” In color
this had a golden sheen, misted as the Herald and the People
appeared. And that radiance made clear its fox head, greyhound
body, the taloned, eagle-like forefeet, the canine hindquarters and
wolf tail.
What manner of exchange passed between the animals they had no
way of knowing. However, the enfield raised its sharp-eared head
and gave a cry that was neither bay nor bark, closer to song. It
was answered from the darkness about in various notes and tones, as
if the human party was now ringed by strange and alien
creatures.
The enfield turned its head to eye them. In its skull its eyes
were small yellow flames. For a second out of time it studied them.
Then once more it voiced the call. When it was answered, it was
gone, winked out as might be the flame of a candle caught by a puff
of breeze.
“What—?” Linda began shakily
But Nick knew, without words he knew.
“We have nothing to fear—from them,” he said.
“The freedom of the woodlands,” Hadlett added.
“Perhaps we have not been given full seizing, that ancient
right to estate under formal rule. But this much—”
“I don’t know what you are talking about!”
Linda burst out. “What was that—that thing? And, Nick, from
the sound, they’re all around us. What if—”
“We have nothing to fear,” he repeated. “Not
from them.”
Could they dare to hope they had acquired an escort? Or would
the unseen company of beasts merely remain neutral? He knew they
were still there, though he did not sight them. And with the
vanishing of the light radiating from the enfield he could no
longer see either Jeremiah or Lung.
“We’d better get on,” Nick added. What he did
not say was that he wanted to see if the other company would move
with them.
“Yes!” Linda was eager to push ahead. Undoubtedly
she wanted to leave the unseen behind. “Lung,” she
called softly. “Here, Lung!”
The Peke came to her readily and she scooped him up, holding him
as if she feared he might be snatched from her at any moment. Then
Nick felt the push of a furred body against his legs, stooped and
gathered up Jeremiah. The cat wriggled up, draped his body about
Nick’s shoulders stole-fashion. The American was a little
uncomfortable under the weight, but knew that he must be content
with Jeremiah’s choice.
Guided by the compass, they went east, skirting the open where
there was need. But their pace slowed. Nick knew without seeing or
being told that Mrs. Clapp was lagging, and he suspected it was
little better with the Vicar. They would have to rest.
When he suggested a halt there was no objection, and, using a
bush growth for cover, they dropped to the ground. Jeremiah leaped
from Nick’s shoulders to disappear. There was no measuring
how far they had come, but Nick wondered if they should not now
turn south, strive to cut across the trail of the missing.
Morning light would be better for a tracking attempt and he
pointed this out. To his surprise, the Vicar agreed. They planned
to keep watch, the three of them, allowing Mrs. Clapp full rest,
turn about.
Nick volunteered for the first sentry go. The moonlight somehow
appeared dimmer and he had to depend more on his ears than his
sight. He stuck the knife point down between his knees, resting one
hand on its hilt, and tried to think.
There was, he believed, very little chance of them being able to
rescue the others. But that fact they would have to prove to
themselves. Afterward—what could they do? Would it be possible to
slowly work their way back through a now totally hostile world to
the place they had left the jeep and there try Linda’s
suggestion of opening a return door? Nick thought they might try,
but the chances for success were close to nonexistent. What would
remain then? A harried, ever-endangered existence as the prey of
either the Dark Ones or the saucers. Perhaps they could get as far
as that farmhouse again. But there was the matter of food—And life
in a continual state of apprehension was no life at all.
The English had known that at home with the air raids, the
constant threat of invasion. Nick had read about it, but that was
all very far away and long ago. You could not understand such fear
until you, yourself, were forced to live with it. And he and Linda,
though the world they knew also had its violence, had not had to
deal directly with it before.
The best answer was still the city. But if the Vicar and Mrs.
Clapp continued to refuse—what then?
Nick tensed, jerking the knife free. He had heard nothing, he
saw nothing—but there was something out there now. One of the alien
animals? They had had an escort from that meeting, of that Nick was
fully convinced.
Now he heard a small whine. Lung came from where Linda lay. His
small body, when Nick laid hand on it, quivered as if he wished to
run forth in greeting. Nick could sense no fear, only
excitement.
There was a faint penciling of light in the air, outlining a
figure. Nick arose to face who—or what—stood there. The light grew
stronger, that figure more solid. Nick expected Avalon. But this
was Rita! “You! But—”
Then anger rose in him. “You gave us a very dramatic
good-bye. Why return now?”
Her porcelain face was without expression. “For your
purpose it will be enough that I have come at all. Those you seek
have been taken by the flyers, not the Dark Ones. If you would have
them forth, seek the sky hunters.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Nick demanded.
“By your own words you are apart from us, and Avalon cares
nothing for us.”
“True.” Now there was a faint troubling of her
expression. “But if you seek among the Dark Ones—then you
shall be totally lost. I would have you save yourselves.”
“And the others?”
Rita shook her head. “How can you save them? For those who
have taken them are mightier than you can hope to be. They have
weapons that are as far beyond those you have known as yours are
beyond bow, sword, and spear. Those they take are gone, accept
that.”
Nick’s anger, aroused by what he could not analyze,
remained steady. At this point had Rita said the sun was bright, he
would have denied it. At first he thought her information might be
a trick. Then he was sure it was true.
“Was that sound one of their weapons?”
“Yes. It compels—draws—”
“Then why did it not take us all?”
“I told you—you are different. The Great Power touched
you. Also he—and Maude—and the girl—they, too, believe, though they
deny it. Maude and Adrian Hadlett have the old belief in their
blood, their past. The girl—her dog has given her the open door.
You each had a small defense against that weapon, and Lung and
Jeremiah were fully armed. They are of Avalon in their own
way.”
He saw now by the glow of light about her that the cat and the
Peke were seated at her feet, gazing up at her as if entranced. She
stooped to touch fingertip to each furred head.
“Wise in their time are these,” she said.
“Wiser than we?”
“Ask that of yourself, not me.”
Her glow was fading, drawing about her. Nick moved.
“Wait!”
But she made no answer. Rita was gone.
“That’s a good act.” Linda was beside him.
“Do you believe a word she says?”
“Yes.”
“The trouble is, though I don’t like her—in fact, if
you want the absolute, down-to-earth truth, I think I hate her—I
believe her, too. Which means what, Nick? Can we possibly help the
others if the saucer people have them? I don’t see any chance
of doing that.”
“Right now I don’t either,” he confessed.
“They could have taken them anywhere.”
“It is not as hopeless as it would seem.” They were
both startled by the Vicar’s voice out of the dark.
“Yes, I have been awake, saw and heard our visitor. And I
also believe her. But, remember, we were brought to this continent
as prisoners of the saucer people. They had then a headquarters
here, not too far from where we were wrecked and freed. Surely any
prisoners they take will be found there.”
“But we haven’t a chance of getting in,” Nick
protested. “Rita was right, you know. They do have weapons
beyond anything we know. They stunned those men we saw netted. And
that sound—the rays they turned on the Herald. We have no
protection against such. It’s crazy to think we can get them
away.” But even as he protested, Nick knew that Hadlett would
remain unconvinced, determined to rescue the others, be that
possible or impossible.
“We seem to have a partial defense against the
sound.” It was as if the Vicar had heard nothing Nick said.
“What was it that Rita told you—Maude and I, through our
blood and the past—now what did she mean?” Nick thought he
asked that question of himself rather than his listeners.
“Maude is of Sussex, very old Sussex. She was a Boorde before
her marriage. And you heard her speak of her great-great-aunt who
had the Sight and the powers of healing. As for me—we have been ten
generations in Minton Parva, squires or churchmen, and I know the
old ways—
“The old ways,” he repeated. “Yes, Avalon, and
the People, I have long heard of them. Iron and the Church drove
them out, but they lingered for a space. Perhaps in England they
were in exile, perhaps they were colonists. ‘The
Gentry’ some called them—because they were indeed
‘gentle folk’ in the old meaning of the word, fair to
look on, courteous, sometimes helpful to man.”
“They had their faults, too, sir.” Mrs. Clapp had
been roused. “They disliked those who spied on ’em,
an’ there were them as made trouble. But they was known,
leastways to the old folks. These here flyin’ people,
they’re different, not like us at all. If they’ve got
’em—Lady Diana, Barry, Sam, Miss Jean—then how are we
goin’ to get them back, sir?”
It was as if her brisk question roused the Vicar from his
thoughts.
“That will take some consideration, Maude.”
“It will take more than consideration.” Hadlett was
not a man with whom to be brusque, Nick had known that from his
first meeting with the Vicar. But he would not accept some
unworkable scheme now. He worried too much about the powers of the
saucers. Perhaps, in a way, he could understand those better so he
really dreaded them more than the monsters he thought might be
illusions, horrible as those were.
“You are right, Nicholas,” the Vicar agreed.
“But,” he continued, “we now know where we must
search—to the north, not the south.”
That he was going to be able to argue the English out of
abandoning the search Nick already guessed was impossible. And to
leave them—that he could not. It would be up to him to try to think
up some telling argument, but at present his mind was a blank.
What he did do was question Hadlett methodically to learn all he
could of what the Vicar had observed during their captivity in the
saucer. That the flyers could stun their prey was the truth.
Rendered completely helpless such prisoners were loaded into the
saucers and it was some time before that effect wore off. When it
did, they were locked into compartments meant to be prisons.
The escape of the English party had been a fluke which might
happen perhaps once in a thousand times. Some motive power of the
saucer had failed and it crash-landed. The door to their cell had
been sprung and the English had found at least two of their captors
dead.
“Their helmets were shattered,” Hadlett explained.
“It is evident that they cannot breathe this air without the
protection of the snout-masks that are part of their headgear. That
is one advantage for us—”
A very small one, was Nick’s conclusion. How were they
going to break helmets in any battle when the enemy could stand off
and ray them down? The more he thought about it, the more he was
convinced this was a suicide mission.
“Were they all killed?” Nick asked.
“Yes. Barry and Sam went back to the ship—Barry had some
hope of learning their method of flight. But all he could discover
was that the ship was locked onto some homing device. What had
caused it to crash he could not discover. But the crew were all
dead. They were very small—dwarfish—and their skins blue. Barry and
Sam did not have time to learn much, for they found another machine
broadcasting what Barry thought was a distress signal. We hurried
away, which was prudent, for we saw in the distance later another
saucer—perhaps hunting the wreck.”
“Locked into a homing device,” Nick repeated. Then
if one had access to a saucer it would take one to their
headquarters—perhaps.
“That has some meaning for you?” the Vicar began and
then added excitedly, “But, of course, it would be the
perfect way, would it not, to enter the enemy stronghold
undetected.”
“The perfect way,” Nick reminded him, “to walk
straight into a prison and whatever the saucer people have ready
for those they capture.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not. It is a point to consider,
Nicholas. Yes, an excellent point to consider. Think of it this
way, my boy—if we were not altogether affected by their sound
weapon, then it could just be we could allow ourselves to be
apparently captured, to turn the tables—as the old saying goes—on
our captors.”
Fantastic! Did he really think that? It was the wildest
suggestion yet. Nick’s penetration into the city was as
nothing beside this.
“Could we do it?”
Nick nearly rounded on Linda hotly. Somehow he had unconsciously
expected her to support him in any trial of wills in their small
party, but listen to her now. “Could we use illusions for
bait?” she continued.
Nick’s annoyance faded. Though her face was only a blur in
the dark he stared at her. An illusion for bait? Then perhaps an
ambush of the saucer? No, it would not work—they had no weapons
except their knives—
“Now that, m’ dear, is right smart thinkin’. I
do believe, sir, that Miss Linda has an idea that might just
work—”
“And how do we jump them when they come down with the
net?” Nick raised his voice in protest. Pressure—a sharp
pricking against his leg. He exclaimed. Jeremiah had hooked his
claws well into Nick, demanding attention.
“Jeremiah.” Nick went to one knee, stroking the cat.
“What is it?”
Foggy—like trying to see a picture through a dense mist—outlines
that wavered back and forth, on which Nick tried to focus. Even
when he concentrated, the pictures were odd, as if he saw through
eyes that were not normal, having other qualities than his own.
Lung—certainly that bouncing creature was Lung at his most
exuberant. And there was the enfield, and. behind it other weird,
mixed things. The beasts of Avalon. Was Jeremiah promising now
their help?
Yes! Thought answered his unasked question.
It would be a plan of many pieces, and much would depend on
luck, on attracting a saucer, on timing thereafter. But maybe, just
maybe, they could do it. And it was better than just blindly
walking into trouble—which is what the Vicar might well do if Nick
did not produce an alternate plan.
“Sir,” Nick tried to bring all his powers of
persuasion to bear. “Do you think a plan such as this might
work?” As he continued, he thought of new details, added
improvements (he hoped they were improvements).
Thus it came about that hours later found them in the hot sun on
the edge of the open. Having set their plan they had rested and
then, with the beasts of Avalon guiding, they had reached this
point.
Now they were linked, men, women, dog and cat together, with an
ingathering of power. Perhaps they were again misusing that as Rita
had warned. But it was their only key. They lay in hiding, but out
in the open two figures walked very slowly. There was a limit to
their power of projection and Mrs. Clapp had suggested that instead
of trying to reproduce their whole party they create only two
illusions, that of the Vicar and herself. She and Hadlett had
formed those figures, Nick, Linda, and the animals feeding them the
sustaining energy.
Jeremiah and Lung were out there, pacing beside the slow-moving
illusions. There were others concealed in the tall grass. Nick had
suggested such were visible from above and there had been amusement
beamed from Jeremiah. Perhaps the beasts of Avalon had some native
protection against such sighting.
Now—all they needed was a saucer to take the bait. How long
would that take? They might have to set this scene many times, for
they could not hold any illusion long. How—
Not long at all! A saucer burst into view in one of those
instantaneous arrivals. It swooped, to center over the staggering
figures. Now! Nick gestured. The illusions slumped forward, lay
full length. From the belly of the saucer the net broke,
descending.
Nick could see twitching grass, the beasts were on the move.
Surely the aliens would spot that suspicious movement! But if they
did, they did not counter it. It was time for him to make his own
move. He was sweating, and not from the heat of the sun. It all
depended now on whether they did have any protection
against the alien weapons.
He began to run, zigzagging as he went, though that might be no
protection against attack. One of the suited crewmen was already
sliding down the rope toward the inert bodies, a second swinging
out of the hatch to follow him.
Then Nick was hit by a force from the saucer, as if a fist
struck him. As planned, he gave way, falling—which was only too
easy. They would think him a prisoner—perhaps he was. But he
summoned up the strength of will that he had commanded in the
woods. He could do this, his body was his own to order. He
could move. And he did.
The grass was tall about him, hiding most of the scene around
the net. Hadlett, Mrs. Clapp and Linda would hold the illusions of
the inert figures as long as they could. If their plan was to
succeed, they must hold until he reached the net. He saw now one of
the aliens prepare to slip the net around the illusion of Hadlett.
Behind the suited figure the grass moved. A small gray shape
leaped, hit the shoulders of the alien, clawing at the helmet. It
was joined by a flashing creature that could only be the enfield.
The other alien, partway down the rope, turned to reclimb.
Out of ambush arose a thing to swing up the rope with the
agility of its monkey body. Yet on its shoulders was an owl’s
head. With no difficulty at all it caught up with the alien,
scrambling over his body, so the suited figure lost hold and fell
back and down.
Nick was under the shadow of the saucer. The longer he had
fought the force that tied his limbs, the easier it became to move.
He reached the net. How many crewmen were still in the saucer? The
owl-monkey scuttled over the ground leaving a crumpled body behind.
The net was now burdened by a number of the beasts, weighting it
down. With any luck at all they should anchor the saucer.
Up! Nick caught at the rope ladder. But the owl-monkey was
before him, springing up as if this was a stairway. As it went, its
outline blurred, it became one of the suited aliens. Nick began to
climb. Was the party in hiding successful also? Was he now in the
likeness of a helmeted dwarf? Up and up—he hardly dared believe he
had made it this far. Now he was through the hatch, the
owl-monkey-alien disappearing through a door beyond. Behind Nick
came Jeremiah, able to use his claws on the ropeway.
Nick hurried after the beast. His impetus carried him into the
control cabin of the saucer. Flame flashed, outlined the owl-monkey
whose illusion had vanished. But the creature was as untouched as
the Herald under the raying. Nick leaped—there were only two
aliens, and the owl-monkey had beaten down the weapon of one,
bearing him down into the seat from which he had half-risen.
With a crash Nick met the other alien, carrying the smaller
figure back against the wall of the cabin. At the shock of being
slammed against it, the alien went limp. Nick held him for a
moment, making sure he was harmless. Then Jeremiah landed on the
suited form, his snarling face pressed against the surface of the
helmet. The eyes of the being inside were closed.
His fellow crewman was still struggling feebly but uselessly
with the owl-monkey who proceeded to draw him back to the door
opening into the hatch space. Nick, apprehensive, searched the
ship. But the four beings they had already taken were the entire
crew. Nick was shaking a little from reaction, unable to believe
they had done this thing.
Now he feared that the saucer might as suddenly vanish with him.
The two aliens, both still alive, Nick thought, were lowered to the
ground. Of the two who had been with the net, one was dead with a
cracked helmet, the other a prisoner. Nick could not kill in cold
blood, but to maroon them in the open country, prisoners of the
beasts, unable to summon help, was the answer. And the sooner he
got his own party on board, the better.
Hadlett and Linda could climb. But they activated the net to
raise Mrs. Clapp and Lung. Once that was inboard the hatch snapped
shut of its own accord, and the saucer quivered to life.
Nick ran for the control cabin, forced his larger body into one
of the seats. He could not hope to use any of the levers and
buttons before him. Like it or not they were on their way, locked
into an enemy craft, their destination unknown. And now that he had
time, he began to worry again. Their amazing good fortune with the
ambush could not continue to hold forever.