They drank deeply from a brook, decided not to eat some big ,Juicy-looking red berries on a bush, listened to the screeching pandemonium of the numerous birds above them, and then returned to the plane. They ate from a jar in the storage compartment, a thick pudding colored chocolate brown and tasting like beef mixed with chestnuts.
Tappy then pulled on his arm with one hand as she gestured toward the north with the other.
"know you want to push on now," he said. "But we can't cross the plain in the daylight. Now ... you want to get into that cloud, right?"
She nodded vigorously.
"We'd better get some sleep first and fill our bellies, too, before we venture out."
First, though, he put some containers of food and water in a plastic sack he found in a box. He looked for and found a flashlight. He removed most of the stuff in the storage space so that she could curl up on its floor. He would try to rest on the seat she had occupied, his feet on the pilot's seat. But a minute after he had settled into the least uncomfortable position he could find, his eyes opened.
just thought of something he said the cabin lights they come on automatically when it gets dark. The light'll be a beacon for the Gaol. You know how to override the automatic turn-on for them?"
She did not. But, as he reviewed the flight, he remembered a panel light that had been illuminated when the cabin lights had come on as the plane entered the storm. He pressed the inset under the light, and the cabin lights sprang into photonic being. Another pressure, and the lights died.
"That's done," he said. "We can both sleep now."
But, a minute later, he sat up, eyes open.
"Does Malva ... the Gaol ... know where you were heading?
I mean, do they know the cloud, that flashing light, is where you want to go?"
She had her eyes closed. She sat up, too, aild spread out her hands and lifted her shoulders.
She was uncertain about what they knew.
He lay back down.
"Go to sleep, Tappy. I promise not to say anything more until we've had a good long snooze."
It was some time before he drifted off. He could not keep from worrying about Malva setting up a trap for them in the camp.
However, he and Tappy would not know about it until they went into the camp. So, let the Fates decide.
That was not a thought to ease his anxiety. Anxiety. A psychological jargon-word for fear.
Finally, he slept. And he dreamed that he was painting one of those gigantic figures that marched along the inner wall of the crater. When he awoke, his neck stiff again, his back aching, he remembered the dream. He thought, That's what I should be doing now. Painting. Not be running scared through a world I never made and never would make. But Earth was also a world I never made and would considerably alter if I'd had anything to do with the Creation.
Take things as they are-you can't do anything about changing its basic structure-and deal with them as best you can.
He got up without disturbing Tappy. As he crawled out, though, he heard her muttering in her sleep.
".Reality is a dream."
Sometimes it's a nightmare, he thought. Once more, he wondered why she could speak English while asleep yet could not do so while awake.
Tappy woke up four hours later. She looked refreshed, though the hard floor must have been uncomfortable. By then, clouds had covered the night sky, and thunder and lightning were playing rough games in the west. A wind had come down hard like a swatter against a fly. Even in the comparatively sheltered forest, it whistled and streamed Tappy's long hair out. All that cheered up Jack. The visibility on the plain would be limited, and the Gaol would be snug in their tents and huts. He hoped. If it would only rain, he and Tappy would not care if they were soaked. That would be one more thing to help them.
He did wish, however, that Tappy could tell him why they were going to that cloud and what awaited them.
They set out across the plain. He carried the radiator in one er walking two miles, leaning a little sideways 'nto the wind, they were in a savage downpour. The cold water made them even more miserable, but it did make them step up their pace.
After what seemed a long while but was not, they were at the rim of the shallow valley. The light from the center of the cloud was still coming on every seven seconds. The cloud itself, otherwise invisible in this darkness, was outlined when the light flashed.
There were lights on in the shelters and strung along paths which led to huts that Jack assumed were latrines. Not a human being was in sight. That did not mean that no sentries were posted.
It could be that he just could not see them. But what did the Gaol have to fear? Besides, this camp looked to him more like a scientific expedition than a military base.
On the other hand, what did he know?
The lightning arrived at the camp at the same time he and Tappy got there. The white streaks helped illuminate the camp for them.
But it would also help any guards to see the intruders, He waited awhile, crouched on the rim, and surveyed the scene for sentinels.
If there were any, they were well hidden.
Finally, he said, "Let's go, Tappy."
They scrambled down the muddy and rock-strewn slope, slipping now and then. He held the radiator high to keep it from getting dirty. However, the rain cleaned their clothes in a short time. Shivering from more than the cold water and wind, they walked across a fairly even ground to the outer rim or the camp.
Crouching, they passed between two wind-flapped tents. He held the radiator ready, the pencil in the other hand. Loud voices came from the tents. Lights shone from the little windows. They left these behind, passing, after a quarter mile of sticky mud, several of the huge machines Jack had seen. These stood on towering tripods the ends of which were stuck in the ground. Cables also ran from them to big metal pegs driven at an angle into the earth.
Other cables led from them into the darkness toward the camp.
Jack assumed that these were power conductors. The machines on top of the tripods resembled giant cameras, but he doubted that they were for photographic purposes.
While lightning screwed through the sky, exploding at a sofar-safe distance from them, and thunder banged maniacally, they crossed about a half mile of plastic covering. That kept them from sinking in the mud.
Then they were dazzled by the light in the center of the cloud, Now closer to the whiteness, they could see more clearly. Its ?source seemed to be a titanic building. It \,vas, perhaps, not more than five stories high, but its length was at least two thousand feet. They could not be sure about that nor about the roundness of the structure. But Jack got the impression of a Brobdingnagian cylinder. Whether or not one of its ends was pointed, he could not determine.
Jack halted. The light disappeared, though the afterimage of the building lingered for a second or two. He did not wish to go into that cloud, which, now that he was near it, roiled like the storm in the sky and extended pseudopodia and shrank them back into itself.
The light blazed again.
This time, he saw the center thing more clearly. The end on his right was pointed. The main body was rounded.
Tappy had been holding his hand. She moved ahead, pulling him after her. If she was courageous enough to plunge into the cloud, he could not hang back. And she should know what she was doing. Would she penetrate the cloud if she thought they were in danger?
Yes, she would if it held something she desired or thought was worth the risk.
The cloud closed around them. Instantly, the wind ceased. He felt no rain pouring on him. Somehow, the cloud repelled or evaporated it before it got to the ground. But the stuff that enveloped him was oily and sticky. Moreover, after a few steps, he seemed to slow down, to have to push against the cloud. It was as if its essence was a very thin jelly. That must be a delusion, he thought. If the cloud really was thickening, it should make it harder for him to breathe. That did not seem to be happening.