‘More or less that. It was quite quickly clear that they were something unusual.’
‘I ought to have seen that,’ said Zellaby. He shook his head sadly. ‘It simply never crossed my mind that we in Midwich were not unique. It does, however, now cross my mind that something must have happened to cause you to admit it. I don’t quite see why the events here should justify that, so it probably happened somewhere else, say in Gizhinsk? Has there been a new development there that our Children are likely to display shortly?’
Bernard put his knife and fork neatly together on his plate, regarded them for a moment, and then looked up.
‘The Far-East Army,’ he said slowly, ‘has recently been equipped with a new medium-type atomic cannon, believed to have a range of between fifty and sixty miles. Last week they carried out the first live tests with it. The town of Gizhinsk no longer exists …’
We stared at him. With a horrified expression, Angela leant forward.
‘You mean – everybody there?’ she said incredulously.
Bernard nodded. ‘Everybody. The entire place. No one there could have been warned without the Children getting to know of it. Besides, the way it was done it could be officially attributed to an error in calculation – or, possibly to sabotage.’
He paused again.
‘Officially,’ he repeated, ‘and for home and general consumption. We have, however, received a carefully channelled observation from Russian sources. It is rather guarded on details and particulars, but there is no doubt that it refers to Gizhinsk, and was probably released simultaneously with the action taken there. It doesn’t refer directly to Midwich, either, but what it does do, is to put out a most forcefully expressed warning. After a description which fits the Children exactly, it speaks of them as groups which present not just a national danger, wherever they exist, but a racial danger of a most urgent kind. It calls upon all governments everywhere to “neutralize” any such known groups with the least possible delay. It does this most emphatically, with almost a note of panic, at times. It insists, over and over again, even with a touch of pleading, that this should be done swiftly, not just for the sake of nations, or of continents, but because these Children are a threat to the whole human race.’
Zellaby went on tracing the damask pattern on the table cloth for some time before he looked up. Then he said:
‘And MI’s reaction to this? To wonder what fast one the Russians were trying to pull this time, I suppose?’ And he returned to doodling on the damask.
‘Most of us, yes – some of us, no,’ admitted Bernard.
Presently Zellaby looked up again.
‘They dealt with Gizhinsk last week, you say. Which day?’
‘Tuesday, the second of July,’ Bernard told him.
Zellaby nodded several times, slowly.
‘Interesting,’ he said. ‘But how, I wonder, did ours know …?’
*
Soon after luncheon, Bernard announced that he was going up to The Grange again.
‘I didn’t have a chance to talk to Torrance while Sir John was there – and after that, well, we both needed a bit of a break.’
‘I suppose you can’t give us any idea of what you intend to do about the Children?’ Angela asked.
He shook his head. ‘If I had any ideas I suppose they’d have to be official secrets. As it is, I’m going to see whether Torrance, from his knowledge of them, can make any suggestions. I hope to be back in an hour or so,’ he added, as he left us.
Emerging from the front door, he made automatically towards his car, and then as he reached for the handle, changed his mind. A little exercise, he decided, would freshen him up, and he set off briskly down the drive, on foot.
Just outside the gate a small lady in a blue tweed suit looked at him, hesitated, and then advanced to meet him. Her face went a little pink, but she pushed resolutely on. Bernard raised his hat.
‘You won’t know me. I am Miss Lamb, but of course we all know who you are, Colonel Westcott.’
Bernard acknowledged the introduction with a small bow, wondering how much ‘we all’ (which presumably comprehended the whole of Midwich) knew about him, and for how long they had known it. He asked what he could do for her.
‘It’s about the Children, Colonel. What is going to be done?’
He told her, honestly enough, that no decision had yet been made. She listened, her eyes intently on his face, her gloved hands clasped together.
‘It won’t be anything severe, will it?’ she asked. ‘Oh, I know last night was dreadful, but it wasn’t their fault. They don’t really understand yet. They’re so very young you see. I know they look twice their age, but even that’s not very old, is it? They didn’t really mean the harm they did. They were frightened. Wouldn’t any of us be frightened if a crowd came to our house wanting to burn it down? Of course we should. We should have a right to defend ourselves, and nobody could blame us. Why, if the villagers came to my house like that I should defend it with whatever I could find – perhaps an axe.’
Bernard doubted it. The picture of this small lady setting about a crowd with an axe was one that did not easily come into focus.
‘It was a very drastic remedy they took,’ he reminded her, gently.
‘I know. But when you are young and frightened it is very easy to be more violent than you mean to be. I know when I was a child there were injustices which positively made me burn inside. If I had had the strength to do what I wanted to do it would have been dreadful, really dreadful, I assure you.’
‘Unfortunately,’ he pointed out, ‘the Children do have that strength, and you must agree that they can’t be allowed to use it.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘But they won’t when they’re old enough to understand. I’m sure they won’t. People are saying they must be sent away. But you won’t do that, will you? They’re so young. I know they’re wilful, but they need us. They aren’t wicked. It’s just that lately they have been frightened. They weren’t like this before. If they can stay here we can teach them love and gentleness, show them that people don’t really mean them any harm …’
She looked up into his face, her hands pressed anxiously together, her eyes pleading, with tears not far behind them.
Bernard looked back at her unhappily, marvelling at the devotion that was able to regard six deaths and a number of serious injuries as a kind of youthful peccadillo. He could almost see in her mind the adored slight figure with golden eyes which filled all her view. She would never blame, never cease to adore, never understand … There had been just one wonderful, miraculous thing in all her life … His heart ached for Miss Lamb …
He could only explain that the decision did not lie in his hands, assure her, trying not to raise any false hopes, that what she had told him would be included in his report; and then detach himself as gently as possible to go on his way, conscious of her anxious, reproachful eyes at his back.
The village, as he passed through it, was wearing a sparse appearance and a subdued air. There must, he imagined, be strong feelings concerning the corralling measure, but the few people about, except for one or two chatting pairs, had a rather noticeable air of minding their own business. A single policeman on patrol round the Green was clearly bored with his job. Lesson One, from the Children – that there was danger in numbers – appeared to have been understood. An efficient step in dictatorship: no wonder the Russians had not cared for the look of things at Gizhinsk …
Twenty yards up Hickham Lane he came upon two of the Children. They were sitting on the roadside bank, staring upward and westward with such concentration that they did not notice his approach.
Bernard stopped, and turned his head to follow their line of sight, becoming aware at the same time of the sound of jet engines. The aircraft was easy to spot, a silver shape against the blue summer sky, approaching at about five thousand feet. Just as he found it, black dots appeared beneath it. White parachutes opened in quick succession, five of them, and began the long float down. The aircraft flew steadily on.
He glanced back at the Children just in time to see them exchange an unmistakable smile of satisfaction. He looked up again at the aircraft serenely pursuing its way, and at the five, gently sinking, white blobs behind it. His knowledge of aircraft was slight, but he was fairly certain that he was looking at a Carey light long-range bomber that normally carried a complement of five. He looked thoughtfully at the two Children again, and at the same moment they noticed him.