As Nicky ceased speaking the party inside the sphere all heard the shrill excited twittering which came from the quay. It sounded like a flock of frightened birds.
'They have much fear of us I am certain,' the Doctor announced, 'if only they could see that we would be friends.'
'Well, unfortunately they can't,' the McKay spoke abruptly, 'and we're not going to have much chance to show them we mean no harm if they're going to pelt us each time we put our heads outside the sphere.'
'Ach, fear!' sighed the Doctor, 'fear without reason—that is the cause of half the misery in the world. We are afraid of them because they are so numerous. They are afraid of us because they cannot see and believe us to be some dreadful monster which has become entangled in their catch. Therefore we must fight and maim each other—it is horrible!'
Count Axel nodded. 'Yes—it's sad. But it's their lives or 226
ours and, although they outnumber us by a hundred to one, we, at least, have dynamite.'
'Get it out, Count,' ordered the McKay, 'and the detonators. We must try to fix up some bombs to make a really telling demonstration.'
The two of them set to work with the Doctor. The others could not help, except by holding lights, as they had no knowledge of explosives but, after half an hour a dozen large grenades had been manufactured encased in various portions of the now useless instruments which they stripped from the walls of the sphere.
'The next thing is to protect ourselves—' The McKay flashed his torch round. 'What have we got here that might be useful?'
'We can use the canvas chair-seats as head covers,' suggested Axel, 'and the bottom boards could be converted into rough shields perhaps.'
'Good for you, Count—let's get to it.'
Soon they were all busy. The girls had no needles or thread but they twisted and tied the squares of canvas, as well as they could, into conical helmets which would serve to shield their heads a little from the stones since, with the exception of Bozo, who had refused to be parted from his dark felt, they had all gone down without their hats.
Sally invented a special model, which met with much approval, by utilising some broad strips of canvas which had formed the chair arms, as chin strips. These served to bandage their cheeks as well as to keep the rough helmets on their heads.
The men worked at the bottom boards, using the wire which was on the detonator reels instead of leather, to make an armlet for each. The boards were only about eight inches wide but, when the left forearm was slipped through the wire loop, they formed long narrow shields, which would at least protect the users' faces.
'Now,' said the McKay, when all was done, 'this is the order of our going. You'll slip out quietly and I'll have another shot at parleying with these people—although I don't think for a moment that it will be any good. Any more stone throwing and I'm chucking a few of these bombs up on to the quay. The moment you hear them explode—out you come. Get that?'
They muttered agreement and he went on: 'The men will be the first to follow me—old business of women and children last—with the exception of Vladimir who's to stay behind and help the girls out in case they get a fit of nerves at the last moment. You've all got to come—whether you like it or not because we can't afford to waste explosives, and this first time we'll have the value of surprise. They can never have come up against such things before—so it's our one big chance to establish ourselves on that quay. See what I mean?'
Further murmurs conveyed their understanding.
'Right then. Now, once we are all out of the sphere we've got to adopt a definite formation and stick to it. We shall form three ranks. Count Axel and myself will be in front. Behind us the second rank will march four abreast. Sally and Camilla in the centre with Nicky and Doctor Tisch on either flank. Our third and last rank will consist of Bozo and Vladimir walking behind the two girls. I've placed them in the rear-guard on purpose because they are the strong men of the party and it is essential that our biggest strength should be concentrated to protect our backs. Are you ready now?'
'Yes,' said Camilla in a whisper, 'we're ready.'
Then, just over an hour after he'd made his first appearance the McKay again crawled through the hole.
The great herd still crouched on the quay, peering into the darkness with their blank pale eyes. As the McKay's feet splashed into the few inches of water there was a rustle among them and they all stood up.
'Hello there?' he shouted, but the shrill cries broke out again and their arms lifted.
He was prepared this time and slipped behind the sphere. It formed good cover and not one of the shower of stones touched him. Then, as it slackened he came round the sphere's side and lobbed a bomb right over the quay wall into the midst of the nude grey-white figures. After it he flung a second, then two more which he took from his pockets. As the fourth sailed into the air the first exploded. There was a stab of flame among the densely packed mass, then a shattering crash which reverberated through the whole vast cavern.
The McKay never saw what happened for he had dodged 228
back behind the sphere to avoid the continuous rain of stones. Three more crashing explosions followed and he knew that his home-made grenades had not let him down. The stones ceased clanging on the sphere. He peered out. The quay was empty but for four little heaps of whitish-grey writhing figures who twittered now in a pain-racked falsetto. Axel and Nicky were already outside the sphere. Bozo was coming through the hole. The rest soon followed and fell in as he ordered, the two girls together in the middle. The McKay only paused to see that they were properly placed in formation then he yelled:
'Come on now,' and splashed through the water at a run towards the quay.
He and Axel carried two bombs apiece, the other men one each, but there was no need to use them. Except for the little piles of dead and stricken creatures the great deep quay ran back into the darkness as desolate as though no multitude had ever occupied it.
'Give me a leg up now,' the McKay cried to Count Axel as they reached the slimy eight foot wall. The Count obeyed and the McKay scrambled over the edge on to a flat surface. He paused to flash his torch round. No walls were visible— only the dripping roof above, and nothing stirred in the deep shadows ahead. He turned to help Count Axel up.
'So far so good,' murmured the Count. 'You keep a look out and I'll give a hand to the others.'
The McKay swung round to face the darkness again. In his left hand just beyond the edge of his wooden shield he held his torch, in the other a bomb ready for any emergency. The revolver was thrust into the top of his trousers and the steel lever through his braces. For a couple of minutes he stood there—feet firmly planted, legs wide apart, his ears keen to catch the patter of bare feet on the rocky floor, his eyes intent and watchful.
'We're all here now,' Count Axel reported softly. Somehow, in this tense darkness, none of them felt like speaking above a whisper and the McKay's reply was only just audible.
'All right—form up as before and follow me.'
He gave them a moment to fall into their ranks then, with Count Axel beside him he advanced warily.
Apart from the treble whimpering of the wounded sub-229
men no sound stirred the stillness. This strange new world was one of silence and eternal darkness.
The McKay walked on, the others followed. All of them advanced with slow, instinctively cautious, steps; fearing that the enemy might spring out on them from behind some hidden corner at any moment, and all the time the beams of their torches flickered hither and thither, stabbing the blackness with eight shafts of light—yet finding nothing.
They passed within twenty feet of one of the heaps of grey-white creatures. Sally felt physically sick as she glimpsed the leprous limbs splashed with blood and the naked torsos twisted so unnaturally, but Doctor Tisch had her firmly by the arm. One of the group, temporarily knocked out by the explosion but otherwise apparently unharmed was crawling in their direction. The Doctor's torch lit his face—stupid, bestial, repulsive; the high nostrils in his parrot-beaked nose distended and quivered, his heavy eyelids flickered down over his pale eyes as though, despite his blindness, he knew and feared the light. In a second he turned and scuttled away without a sound.