Doggins said: “And the beetles.”
Niall smiled: “Yes, the beetles.”
“So you’ll stay here with us?”
Niall shook his head. “I couldn’t do that either.”
“Why not?” This time there was a note of exasperation in Doggins’ voice.
“Because I intend to go on working against the spiders. And if I did that, I’d have to break my word to the beetles.”
“So what do you intend to do?”
Niall thought about it. “Go back to the desert.”
“And what would you do there?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps look for other men like myself — men who hate the spiders and want to see them destroyed. There must be other underground arsenals like the one in the spider city. Perhaps we could find more Reapers.”
Doggins shook his head violently. “Oh, this is mad!”
Niall looked at him with surprise. “Why?”
“Because I agree with every word you say. I want to see the spiders destroyed. So do the others — Milo and Ulic and Manetho and the rest. None of us want to work with the spiders. We’ve come too far for that.”
“And the treaty?”
Doggins grunted. “The treaty’s not signed yet.”
“So what do you think we should do?”
Doggins turned to the window. “The first thing we do is. . .” He broke off, and his body stiffened. Niall looked past him, wondering what had caused the reaction. The foreground was dark; all he could see was the fading orange sky, and a smoky cloud drifting across it.
Doggins pointed. “That looks like your answer.” His voice sounded oddly strained.
“I don’t understand.”
“The wind has changed.” He grasped Niall’s arm. “Let’s go outside.”
The hall was now so dark that they had to grope their way across it. The great wooden doors had been closed; they had to leave the building by a side door. As soon as they emerged on to the steps, the wind snatched at their tunics. Doggins licked his forefinger, and held it up.
“It’s a north-westerly.” He turned to Niall. There was an odd expression in his eyes, a mixture of excitement and something like fear. “Don’t you think that’s a sign?”
Before Niall could answer, Ulic came hurrying toward them across the grass. Doggins placed one arm round his shoulders and spoke in a low voice.
“Now listen carefully. I want you to go and take a message to Kosmin and Hastur. They are to prepare three balloons. Tell them we shall need food and drink for six people.” He glanced over his shoulder. “And tell them we shall need Reapers.”
Ulic’s eyes brightened with excitement. “When do you want to leave?”
“As soon as it’s dark.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to wait for moonrise?”
“No. We don’t want to be seen.”
As they walked back towards Doggins’ house, Niall experienced a watery sensation of fear and excitement. But at least his doubts and misgivings had vanished; he knew that they no longer had any choice.
PART TWO
The Delta
The lights of the beetle city receded quickly beneath them; within moments they were surrounded by a darkness so complete that Niall could not even see the white glimmer of his own hand before his eyes. During this ascending stage, there were a few violent jerks as the connecting rope became taut; after this, the rope slackened, and the ascent became smooth. Five minutes later, the roaring of the wind had ceased; at this height it met with no obstruction, and was therefore soundless. Moreover, since they were now travelling at almost the same speed as the moving air, the wind seemed to have dropped so that it was hardly more than a faint breeze. It was a strange sensation: to hang there, apparently motionless, in the total blackness, and to realise that they were hundreds of feet above the ground, and travelling at more than thirty miles an hour. At this speed they should reach the Delta in just over four hours.
Gradually, the blackness paled into a grey dusk, so that Niall could see Manetho standing on the far side of the undercarriage, his arms outstretched as he held on to the supports of the balloon. For a moment, Niall assumed that his eyes were adjusting to the darkness, then realised, to his surprise, that the light came from the western horizon, where pink clouds reflected the setting sun. It took him some moments to grasp that their height allowed them to see across the earth’s curved surface to a more distant horizon. The light also enabled him to see the two other balloons, each approximately level with his own. The one containing Doggins and Milo was less than fifty yards away, so that the rope that connected them hung in a drooping arc. Doggins pointed and shouted something, but the wind made it inaudible. Ten minutes later the sun had vanished again, and they were once more in total darkness.
At least the floor beneath their feet was solid; a large circular board had been installed in the bottom of the undercarriage. On this there were two bulging canvas bags containing provisions, each firmly attached to the supports of the balloon, in case air turbulence caused them to slide about. Between his feet, Niall held a smaller bag containing his Reaper and a supply of fire-bombs. Blankets had been spread on the wooden floor, and tucked beneath its edges to prevent them from moving or folding. Kosmin and Hastur, who had been largely responsible for the preparations, had shown a remarkable amount of care and foresight. And, to their credit, they had betrayed no sign of the acute disappointment they must have felt at being left behind.
Niall was warmly clad; Doggins’ womenfolk had provided him with a fur-lined garment that reached almost to his ankles; on his feet he wore boots — a type of footwear to which he was completely unaccustomed; they were made of canvas, with thick rubber soles, and at first felt hot and uncomfortable; but after half an hour in the balloon, he was grateful for the warmth; at this height, the temperature was close to zero.
There was a sudden spark of light, which illuminated Manetho’s face; he was sitting on the floor, igniting the tinder box. A few moments later, the dry shavings were burning. Manetho used it to light a small oil lamp, whose flame wavered unsteadily; he used this to consult a compass. Niall crouched beside him.
“Are we on course?” Manetho nodded. “What time will the moon rise?”
“It won’t.” Manetho pointed overhead. “There’s a blanket of cloud.”
Niall looked up into the blackness; after a moment he caught a glimpse of a few stars, which vanished immediately. He asked: “What are we going to do?”
Manetho said grimly: “The only thing we can do is hope.” He blew out the oil lamp.
“Why are you doing that?”
“We can’t risk it overturning. Anyway, there’s nothing to see.”
“Hadn’t we better speak to the others?”
“I suppose so. I’ll do it. You stay here, or we’ll make the floor tilt.”
They had made arrangements for an emergency like this. The rope had been looped around the balloon, as well as attached to each support; if the balloons wished to approach one another, all that was necessary was to pull in the rope, hand over hand. From the vibrations of the undercarriage, Niall could sense that this was what Manetho was doing. A few minutes later, a faint bump told him that the balloons had collided. He heard Doggins ask: “Any idea where we are?”
“No. But we must be at least ten miles from the coast. I’m worried about this cloud. If it doesn’t lift, we shan’t know when we’re over land.”
“Are you sure we’re not still over the land?”
“We can easily find out.”
He heard the clink of the fire-bombs as Manetho groped in the bag. Niall rose cautiously to his feet, and looked over the side, leaning on one of the supports. He felt the jerk as Manetho tossed the bomb. For a while, it seemed that nothing would happen; then there was a brilliant yellow flash of light from below them. It continued to blaze as it fell downward, and suddenly its reflection was cast back by the sea. For a brief moment, Niall glimpsed black water and the white of breaking waves; then the flare was extinguished. These few seconds had been enough to show them that the sea stretched in all directions. For the first time since he had climbed into the balloon, Niall felt a shock of fear. Enclosed in the darkness, he had felt secure; now the realisation that they were suspended in a vast emptiness suddenly came home to him.
Doggins said: “We could go up above the clouds, but we wouldn’t be any better off. What do you think?”
“No point — we still wouldn’t be able to see the land when we approach it. The only thing we can do is to keep dropping fire-bombs when we think we’re getting close. How many have we got?”