turned to Roach, standing with the reloaded gun. He knew what response he would get there.
“They won’t touch anything.” It was Quatermass who had come up. “They’re not even interested.”
True. They seemed too spent even to look up at the shining dishes above. Not a head was raised.
“All right.” Kapp called out: “Straight through, then! Don’t go near anything—don’t touch anything! Just get going!”
The Planet People obeyed.
In silence now, as if the halt had shaken them out of the rhythm of their breathing as well as their stride, they started to shuffle along. Even the weariest managed to pick themselves up from the ground. The line re-formed. It passed between the old waiting room and the water tank and crossed the platform. Some of the Planet People went sprawling as they jumped down on to the track. Now and then a precious bundle of food or clothing was dropped and forgotten as they ploughed on up the hill.
“Termites!” said Kapp.
The tail of the column disappeared across the further platform. It was over. A small crisis averted.
“Till next time,” said Tommy Roach. He applied his safety catch. That was the way it went. If something happened once it would certainly happen again. And the next time was always worse. They would have to do something about defences—
Kapp cried out: “Oh, no!”
He went running. The two little girls were squatting on the ground, absorbed in something. It was Debbie who had it, a crude pendulum consisting of a rusty iron nut on the end of a dirty string. He snatched it from her.
“Where did you get this? From them?”
He was shaking the child. She snivelled. Her sister pointed after the Planet People and said: “A boy gave it to her.”
Kapp hurled the thing away. He gripped Debbie’s little body tight.
“Those are mad people! They believe in mad things. You must never take anything from them—never! Never!”
Debbie screamed, not understanding, frightened of her angry father. When Clare picked her up she had wet herself.
Kapp walked over to where the rusty nut had fallen and kicked it out of sight. He looked sick.
“They made me do that,” he said.
4
A lison Sharpe had not been in the observatory at the time. She was about a mile away, gathering acorns for coffee. There was a particular tree she favoured. The acorns it dropped were smaller but they tasted better. She always went to it.
While she filled her rush basket she heard a kind of singing.
She saw half a dozen young people dressed in loose ponchos, running lightly. It was not a song, she realized as they came closer, but a breathy chant.
“Hah! Hah! Hah! Hah!”
The boy leading them was swinging a plumb-bob. As he caught sight of Alison he called out to her: “Come with us!”
She did not know what he meant. “Where?” she asked.
“Ringstone Round! We’re going to Ringstone Round!” He caught her by the wrist to pull her along with them.
Alison was frightened.
She managed to jerk free. She ran. The basket fell and she lost the acorns as she made off.
She got back to the huts.
It was an hour before Clare could get the truth out of her. What had frightened Alison was not so much the Planet People as herself, the sudden urge to give in and run with them. Her mind had seemed to switch off, to go blank. Clever Alison succumbing to the sort of mindlessness she had always despised. It must have been hysteria. She despised that too.
Now she sat recovering. Sipping from a cup and trembling.
Clare left her and turned to the others.
“Why there?”
Joe almost spat. “Looking for magic! It used to be Stonehenge or Glastonbury Tor where the slobs went to wait for the end of the world! Now it’s the turn of Ringstone Round! They don’t use maps, of course—they’ve got to discover it for themselves with earth-trails and bobs! As if nobody had ever been there!”
“I went to see it once,” said Quatermass. “It was swarming with tourists.”
How long ago? Thirty
“They won’t touch anything.” It was Quatermass who had come up. “They’re not even interested.”
True. They seemed too spent even to look up at the shining dishes above. Not a head was raised.
“All right.” Kapp called out: “Straight through, then! Don’t go near anything—don’t touch anything! Just get going!”
The Planet People obeyed.
In silence now, as if the halt had shaken them out of the rhythm of their breathing as well as their stride, they started to shuffle along. Even the weariest managed to pick themselves up from the ground. The line re-formed. It passed between the old waiting room and the water tank and crossed the platform. Some of the Planet People went sprawling as they jumped down on to the track. Now and then a precious bundle of food or clothing was dropped and forgotten as they ploughed on up the hill.
“Termites!” said Kapp.
The tail of the column disappeared across the further platform. It was over. A small crisis averted.
“Till next time,” said Tommy Roach. He applied his safety catch. That was the way it went. If something happened once it would certainly happen again. And the next time was always worse. They would have to do something about defences—
Kapp cried out: “Oh, no!”
He went running. The two little girls were squatting on the ground, absorbed in something. It was Debbie who had it, a crude pendulum consisting of a rusty iron nut on the end of a dirty string. He snatched it from her.
“Where did you get this? From them?”
He was shaking the child. She snivelled. Her sister pointed after the Planet People and said: “A boy gave it to her.”
Kapp hurled the thing away. He gripped Debbie’s little body tight.
“Those are mad people! They believe in mad things. You must never take anything from them—never! Never!”
Debbie screamed, not understanding, frightened of her angry father. When Clare picked her up she had wet herself.
Kapp walked over to where the rusty nut had fallen and kicked it out of sight. He looked sick.
“They made me do that,” he said.
4
A lison Sharpe had not been in the observatory at the time. She was about a mile away, gathering acorns for coffee. There was a particular tree she favoured. The acorns it dropped were smaller but they tasted better. She always went to it.
While she filled her rush basket she heard a kind of singing.
She saw half a dozen young people dressed in loose ponchos, running lightly. It was not a song, she realized as they came closer, but a breathy chant.
“Hah! Hah! Hah! Hah!”
The boy leading them was swinging a plumb-bob. As he caught sight of Alison he called out to her: “Come with us!”
She did not know what he meant. “Where?” she asked.
“Ringstone Round! We’re going to Ringstone Round!” He caught her by the wrist to pull her along with them.
Alison was frightened.
She managed to jerk free. She ran. The basket fell and she lost the acorns as she made off.
She got back to the huts.
It was an hour before Clare could get the truth out of her. What had frightened Alison was not so much the Planet People as herself, the sudden urge to give in and run with them. Her mind had seemed to switch off, to go blank. Clever Alison succumbing to the sort of mindlessness she had always despised. It must have been hysteria. She despised that too.
Now she sat recovering. Sipping from a cup and trembling.
Clare left her and turned to the others.
“Why there?”
Joe almost spat. “Looking for magic! It used to be Stonehenge or Glastonbury Tor where the slobs went to wait for the end of the world! Now it’s the turn of Ringstone Round! They don’t use maps, of course—they’ve got to discover it for themselves with earth-trails and bobs! As if nobody had ever been there!”
“I went to see it once,” said Quatermass. “It was swarming with tourists.”
How long ago? Thirty
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