‘They’ll know,’ I said, ‘as soon as the news leaks out. If it does leak
out. It’ll be bulletined on TV and radio and everyone in this village is
plastered to a set.’
‘Maybe someone will get hold of Davenport and hush him up.’
I shook my head. ‘He was pretty sore this morning. Right down the
general’s throat.’
And who was right? I asked myself. How could one tell in this short
space of time who was right or wrong?
For years man had fought insects and blights and noxious weeds. He’d
fought them any way he could. He’d killed them any way he could. Let one’s
guard down for a moment and the weeds would have taken over. They crowded
every fence corner, every hedgerow, sprang up in every vacant lot. They’d
grow anywhere. When drought killed the grain and sickened the corn, the
weeds would keep on growing, green and tough and wiry.
And now came another noxious weed, out of another time, a weed that
very possibly could destroy not only corn and grain but the human race. If
this should be the case, the only thing to do was to fight it as one fought
any weed, with everything one had.
But suppose that this was a different sort of weed, no ordinary weed,
but a highly adaptive weed that had studied the ways of man and weed, and
out of its vast knowledge and adaptability could manage to survive anything
that man might throw at it. Anything, that is, except massive radiation.
For that had been the answer when the problem had been posed in that
strange project down in Mississippi.
And the Flowers’ reaction to that answer would be a simple one. Get rid
of radiation. And while you were getting rid of it, win the affection of the
world.’
If that should be the situation, then the Pentagon was right.
The phone buzzed from the desk.
Joe picked up the receiver and handed it to me.
My lips seemed to be stiff. The words I spoke came out hard arid dry.
‘Hello,’ I said. ‘Hello. Is this the senator?
‘Yes.’
‘This is Bradshaw Carter. Millville. Met you this morning. At the
barrier.’
‘Certainly, Mr Carter. What can I do for you?
‘There is a rumour…’
‘There are many rumours, Carter. I’ve heard a dozen of them.’
‘About a bomb on Millville. The general said this morning…’
‘Yes,’ said the senator, far too calmly. ‘I have heard that rumour,
too, and am quite disturbed by it. But there is no confirmation. It is
nothing but a rumour.’
‘Senator,’ I said. ‘I wish you’d level with me. To you it’s a
disturbing thing to hear. It’s personal with us.’
‘Well,’ said the senator. You could fairly hear him debating with
himself.
‘Tell me,’ I insisted. ‘We’re the ones involved…’
‘Yes. Yes,’ said the senator. ‘You have the right to know. I’d not deny
you that.’
‘So what is going on?
‘There is only one solid piece of information,’ said the senator.
‘There are top level consultations going on among the nuclear powers. Quite
a blow to them, you know, this condition of the aliens. The consultations
are highly secret, as you might imagine. You realize, of course…’
‘It’s perfectly all right,’ I said. ‘I can guarantee…’
‘Oh, it’s not that so much,’ said the senator. ‘One of the newspaper
boys will sniff it out before the night is over. But I don’t like it. It
sounds as if some sort of mutual agreement is being sought. In view of
public opinion, I am very much afraid…’
‘Senator! Please, not politics.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said the senator. ‘I didn’t mean it that way. I won’t try
to conceal from you that I am perturbed. I’m trying to get what facts I
can…’
‘Then it’s critical.’
‘If that barrier moves another foot,’ said the senator, ‘if anything
else should happen, it’s not inconceivable that we might act unilaterally.
The military can always argue that they moved to save the world from
invasion by an alien horde. They can claim, as well, that they had
information held by no one else. They could say it was classified and refuse
to give it out. They would have a cover story and once it had been done,
they could settle back and let time take its course. There would be hell to
pay, of course, but they could ride it out.’
‘What do you think?’ I asked. ‘What are the chances?’
‘God,’ said the senator, ‘I don’t know. I don’t have the facts. I don’t
know what the Pentagon is thinking. I don’t know the facts they have. I
don’t know what the chiefs of staff have told the President. There is no way
of knowing the attitudes of Britain or Russia, or of France.’
The wire sang cold and empty.
‘Is there,’ asked the senator, ‘anything that you can do from the
Millville end?’
‘An appeal,’ I said. ‘A public appeal. The newspapers and the radio…’
I could almost see him shake his head. ‘It wouldn’t work,’ he said. ‘No
one has any way of knowing what’s happening there behind the barrier. There
is always the possibility of influence by the aliens. And the pleading of
special favour even when that would be prejudicial to the world. The
communications media would snap it up, of course, and would play it up and
make a big thing of it. But it would not influence official opinion in the
least. It would only serve to stir up the people – the people everywhere.
And there is enough emotionalism now. What we need are some solid facts and
some common sense.’
He was fearful, I thought, that we’d upset the boat. He wanted to keep
everything all quiet and decent.
‘And, anyhow,’ he said, ‘there is no real evidence…’
‘Davenport thinks there is.’
‘You have talked with him?’
‘No,’ I said, quite truthfully, ‘I haven’t talked with him.’
‘Davenport,’ he said, ‘doesn’t understand. He stepped out of the
isolation of his laboratory and…’
‘He sounded good to me,’ I said. ‘He sounded civilized.’
And was sorry I’d said it, for now I’d embarrassed him as well as
frightened him.
‘I’ll let you know,’ he said, a little stiffly. ‘As soon as I hear
anything I’ll let you or Gerald know. I’ll do the best I can. I don’t think
you need to worry. Just keep that barrier from moving, just keep things
quiet. That’s all you have to do.’
‘Sure, Senator,’ I said, disgusted.
‘Thanks for calling,’ said the senator. ‘I’ll keep in touch.’
‘Goodbye, Senator,’ I said.
I put the receiver back into the cradle. Joe looked at me inquiringly.
I shook my head. ‘He doesn’t know and he isn’t talking. And I gather he
is helpless. He can’t do anything for us.’
Footsteps sounded on the sidewalk and a second later the door came
open. I swung around and there stood Higgy Morris.
Of all the people who would come walking in at this particular moment,
it would be Higgy Morris.
He looked from one to the other of us.
‘What’s the matter with you guys?’ he asked.
I kept on looking at him, wishing that he’d go away, but knowing that
he wouldn’t.
‘Brad,’ said Joe, ‘we’ve got to tell him.’
‘All right,’ I said. ‘You go ahead and tell him.’
Higgy didn’t move. He stood beside the door while Joe told him how it
was. Higgy got wall-eyed and seemed to turn into a statue. He never moved a
muscle; he didn’t interrupt.
For a long moment there was silence, then Higgy said to me, ‘What do
you think? Could they do a thing like that to us?’
I nodded. ‘They could. They might. If the barrier moves again. If
something else should happen.’
‘Well, then,’ said Higgy, springing into action, ‘what are we standing
here for? We must start to dig.’
‘Dig?’
‘Sure. A bomb shelter. We’ve got all sorts of manpower. There’s no one
in the village who’s doing anything. We could put everyone to work. There’s
road equipment in the shed down by the railroad station and there must be a
dozen or more trucks scattered here and there. I’ll appoint a committee and
we’ll. . . Say, what’s the matter with you fellows?’
‘Higgy,’ said Joe, almost gently, ‘you just don’t understand. This
isn’t fallout – this would be a hit with the village as ground zero. You
can’t build a shelter that would do any good. Not in a hundred years, you
couldn’t.’
‘We could try,’ said Higgy, stubbornly.
‘You can’t dig deep enough,’ I said, ‘or build strong enough to
withstand the blast. And even if you could, there’d be the oxygen . . .’
‘But we got to do something,’ Higgy shouted. ‘We can’t simply sit and
take it. Why, we’d all be killed!’
‘Chum,’ I told him, ‘that’s too damned bad.’
‘Now, see here. . .’ said Higgy.
‘Cut it out!’ yelled Joe. ‘Cut it out, both of you. Maybe you don’t