‘They took the infection with them. There were three more hurried moves before they succeeded in shaking free of it. By then they had gone as far west as Devonshire, and they were all right for a bit there. But then they began to find the same difficulties as we had – and you have. Coker stuck it out there for nearly three years, and then reasoned along much the same lines as we did. Only he didn’t think of an island. Instead, he decided on a river boundary and a fence to cut off the toe of Cornwall. When they got there they spent the first months building their barrier, then they went for the triffids inside, much as we did on the island. They had much more difficult country to work with, though, and they never did succeed in clearing them out completely. The fence was fairly successful to begin with, but they never could trust it as we could the sea, and too much of their manpower had to be wasted on patrols.
‘Coker thinks they might have made out all right once the children had grown old enough to work, but it would have been tough going all the time. When I did find them, they hadn’t much hesitation about coming along. They set about loading up their fishing boats right away, and they were all on the island in a couple of weeks. When Coker found you weren’t with us, he suggested you might still be somewhere in these parts.’
‘You can tell him that wipes out any hard feelings about him,’ said Josella.
‘He’s going to be a very useful man,’ Ivan said. ‘And from what he tells us, you could be, too,’ he added, looking at me. ‘You’re a biochemist, aren’t you?’
‘A biologist,’ I said, ‘with a little biochemistry.’
‘Well you can hold on to your fine distinctions. The point is, Michael has tried to get some research going into a method of knocking off triffids scientifically. That has to be found if we are going to get anywhere at all. But the trouble so far is that the only people we have to work on it are a few who have forgotten most of the biology they learned at school. What do you think – like to turn professor? It’d be a worth while job.’
‘I can’t think of one that would be more worth while,’ I told him.
‘Does this mean you’re inviting us all to your island haven?’ Dennis asked.
‘Well, to come on mutual approval, at least,’ Ivan replied. ‘Bill and Josella will probably remember the broad principles laid down that night at the University. They still stand. We aren’t out to reconstruct – we want to build something new and better. Some people don’t take to that. If they don’t they’re no use to us. We just aren’t interested in having an opposition party that’s trying to perpetuate a lot of the old bad features. We’d rather that people who want that went elsewhere.’
‘Elsewhere sounds a pretty poor offer, in the circumstances,’ remarked Dennis.
‘Oh, I don’t mean we throw them back to the triffids. But there were a number of them, and there had to be some place for them to go, so a party went across to the Channel Isles, and started cleaning up there on the same lines as we’d cleaned up the Isle of Wight. About a hundred of them moved over. They’re doing all right there, too.’
‘So now we have the mutual approval system. Newcomers spend six months with us, then there’s a Council hearing. If they don’t like our ways, they say so; and if we don’t think they’ll fit, we say so. If they fit, they stay; if not, we see that they get to the Channel Isles – or back to the mainland, if they’re odd enough to prefer that.’
‘Sounds to have a touch of the dictatorial – how’s this Council of yours formed?’ Dennis wanted to know.
Ivan shook his head.
‘It’d take too long to go into constitutional questions now. The best way to learn about us is to come and find out. If you like us, you’ll stay – but even if you don’t, I think you’ll find the Channel Isles a better spot than this is likely to be a few years from now.’
In the evening, after Ivan had taken off, and vanished away to the south-west, I went and sat on my favourite bench in a corner of the garden.
I looked across the valley, remembering the well-drained and tended meadows that had been there. Now it was far on the way back to the wild. The neglected fields were dotted with thickets, beds of reeds, and stagnant pools. The bigger trees were slowly drowning in the sodden soil.
I thought of Coker and his talk of the leader, the teacher, and the doctor – and of all the work that would be needed to support us on our few acres. Of how it would affect each of us if we were to be imprisoned here. Of the three blind ones, still feeling useless and frustrated as they grew older. Of Susan who should have the chance of a husband and babies. Of David, and Mary’s little girl, and any other children there might be who would have to become labourers as soon as they were strong enough. Of Josella and myself having to work still harder as we became older because there would be more to feed and more work that must be done by hand…
Then there were the triffids patiently waiting. I could see hundreds of them in a dark green hedge beyond the fence. There must be research – some natural enemy, some poison, a debalancer of some kind, something must be found to deal with them; there must be relief from other work for that – and soon. Time was on the triffids’ side. They had only to go on waiting while we used up our resources. First the fuel, then no more wire to mend the fences. And they or their descendants would still be waiting there when the wire rusted through…
And yet Shirning had become our home. I sighed.
There was a light step on the grass. Josella came and sat down beside me. I put an arm round her shoulders.
‘What do they think about it?’ I asked her.
‘They’re badly upset, poor things. It must be hard for them to understand how the triffids wait like that when they can’t see them. And then, they can find their way about here, you see. It must be dreadful to have to contemplate going to an entirely strange place when you’re blind. They only know what we tell them. I don’t think they properly understand how impossible it will become here. If it were not for the children, I believe they’d say “No,” flatly. It’s their place, you see, all they have left. They feel that very much.’ She paused, then she added: ‘They think that – but, of course, it’s not really their place at all; it’s ours, isn’t it? We’ve worked hard for it.’ She put her hand on mine. ‘You’ve made it and kept it for us, Bill. What do you think? Shall we stay a year or two longer?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I worked because everything seemed to depend on me. Now it seems – rather futile.’
‘Oh, darling, don’t! A knight-errant isn’t futile. You’ve fought for all of us, and kept the dragons away.’
‘It’s mostly the children,’ I said.
‘Yes – the children,’ she agreed.
‘And all the time, you know, I’ve been haunted by Coker – the first generation, labourers; the next, savages…I think we had better admit defeat before it comes, and go now.’
She pressed my hand.
‘Not defeat, Bill dear, just a – what’s the phrase? – a strategic withdrawal. We withdraw to work and plan for the day when we can come back. One day we will. You’ll show us how to wipe out every one of these foul triffids, and get our land back from them for us.’
‘You’ve a lot of faith, darling.’
‘And why not?’
‘Well, at least I’ll be fighting them. But first, we go – when?’
‘Do you think we could have the summer out here? It could be a sort of holiday for all of us – with no preparations to make for the winter. We deserve a holiday, too.’
‘I should think we could do that,’ I agreed.
We sat, watching the valley dissolve in the dusk. Josella said:
‘It’s queer, Bill. Now I can go, I don’t really want to. Sometimes it’s seemed like prison – but now it seems like treachery to leave it. You see, I – I’ve been happier here than ever in my life before, in spite of everything.’
‘As for me, my sweet, I wasn’t even alive before. But we’ll have better times yet – I promise you.’
‘It’s silly, but I shall cry when we do go. I shall cry buckets. You mustn’t mind,’ she said.
But, as things fell out, we were all of us much too busy to cry…
17
Strategic Withdrawal
There was, as Josella had implied, no need for hurry. While we saw the summer out at Shirning I could prospect a new home for us on the island, and make several journeys there to transport the most useful part of the stores and gear that we had collected. But, meanwhile, the wood-pile had been destroyed. We needed no more fuel than would keep the kitchen going for a few weeks, so the next morning Susan and I set off to fetch coal.
The half-track wasn’t suitable for that job, so we took a four-wheel drive lorry. Although the nearest rail coal depot was only ten miles away, the roundabout route due to the blockage of some roads, and the bad condition of others, meant that it took us nearly the whole day. There were no major mishaps, but it was drawing on to evening when we returned.
As we turned the last corner of the lane, with the triffids slashing at the truck as indefatigably as ever from the banks, we stared in astonishment. Beyond our gate, parked in our yard, stood a monstrous-looking vehicle. The sight so dumb-founded us that we sat gaping at it for some moments before Susan put on her helmet and gloves and climbed down to open the gate.
After I had driven in we went over together to look at the vehicle. The chassis, we saw, was supported on metal tracks which suggested a military origin. The general effect was somewhere between a cabin-cruiser, and an amateur-built caravan. Susan and I looked at it, and then looked at one another, with raised eyebrows. We went indoors to find out more about it.
In the living-room we found, in addition to the household, four men clad in grey-green ski-suits. Two of them wore pistols holstered to the right hip: the other two had parked their sub-machine guns on the floor beside their chairs.
As we came in, Josella turned a completely expressionless face towards us.
‘Here is my husband. Bill, this is Mr Torrence. He tells us he is an official of some kind. He has proposals to make to us.’ I had never heard her voice colder.
For a second I failed to respond. The man she indicated did not recognize me, but I recalled him all right. Features that have faced you along sights get sort of set in your mind. Besides, there was that distinctive red hair. I remembered well the way that efficient young man had turned back my party in Hampstead. I nodded to him. Looking at me, he said:
‘I understand you are in charge here, Mr Masen?’
‘The place belongs to Mr Brent here,’ I replied.
‘I mean that you are the organizer of this group?’
‘In the circumstances, yes,’ I said.
‘Good.’ He had a now-we-are-going-to-get-somewhere air. ‘I am Commander, South-East Region,’ he added.
He spoke as if that should convey something important to me. It did not. I said so.
‘It means,’ he amplified, ‘that I am the Chief Executive Officer of the Emergency Council for the South-Eastern Region of Britain. As such, it happens to be one of my duties to supervise the distribution and allocation of personnel.’
‘Indeed,’ I said. ‘I have never heard of this – er – Council.’
‘Possibly. We were equally ignorant of the existence of your group here until we saw your fire yesterday.’
I waited for him to go on.
‘When such a group is discovered,’ he said, ‘it is my job to investigate it and assess it and make the necessary adjustments. So you may take it that I am here officially.’
‘On behalf of an official Council – or does it happen to be a self-elected Council?’ Dennis inquired.
‘There has to be law and order,’ the man said, stiffly. Then with a change of tone, he went on:
‘This is a well-found place you have here, Mr Masen.’
‘Mr Brent has,’ I corrected.
‘We will leave Mr Brent out. He is only here because you made it possible for him to stay here.’
I looked across at Dennis. His face was set.
‘Nevertheless, it is his property,’ I said.
‘It was, I understand. But the state of society which gave sanction to his ownership no longer exists. Titles to property have therefore ceased to be valid. Furthermore, Mr Brent is not sighted, so that he cannot in any case be considered competent to hold authority.’
‘Indeed,’ I said again.
I had had a distaste for this young man and his decisive ways at our first meeting. Further acquaintance was doing nothing to mellow it. He went on:
‘This is a matter of survival. Sentiment cannot be allowed to interfere with the necessary practical measures. Now, Mrs Masen has told me that you number eight altogether. Five adults, this girl, and two small children. All of you are sighted except these three.’ He indicated Dennis, Mary, and Joyce.
‘That is so,’ I admitted.
‘H’m. That’s quite disproportionate, you know. There’ll have to be some changes here, I’m afraid. We have to be realistic in times like this.’
Josella’s eye caught mine. I saw a warning in it. But in any case, I had no intention of breaking out just then. I had seen the red-headed man’s direct methods in action, and I wanted to know more of what I was up against. Apparently he realized that I would.
‘I’d better put you in the picture,’ he said. ‘Briefly it is this. Regional Headquarters is at Brighton. London soon became too bad for us. But in Brighton we were able to clear and quarantine a part of the town, and we ran it. Brighton’s a big place. When the sickness had passed and we could get about more, there were plenty of stores to begin with. More recently we have been running in convoys from other places. But that’s folding up now. The roads are getting too bad for lorries, and they are having to go too far. It had to come, of course. We’d reckoned that we could last out there several years longer – still, there it is. It’s possible we undertook to look after too many from the start. Anyway, now we are having to disperse. The only way to keep going will be to live off the land. To do that we’ve got to break up into smaller units. The standard unit has been fixed at one sighted person to ten blind, plus any children.
‘You have a good place here, fully capable of supporting two units. We shall allocate to you seventeen blind persons, making twenty with the three already here – again, of course, plus any children they may have.’
I stared at him in amazement.
‘You’re seriously suggesting that twenty people and their children can live off this land,’ I said. ‘Why, it’s utterly impossible. We’ve been wondering whether we shall be able to support ourselves on it.’
He shook his head, confidently.
‘It is perfectly possible. And what I am offering you is the command of the double unit we shall install here. Frankly, if you do not care to take it, we shall put in someone else who will. We can’t afford waste in these times.’
‘But just look at the place,’ I repeated. ‘It simply can’t do it.’
‘I assure you that it can, Mr Masen. Of course, you’ll have to lower your standards a bit – we all shall for the next few years, but when the children grow up a bit you’ll begin to have labour to expand with. For six or seven years it’s going to mean personal hard work for you, I admit – that can’t be helped. From then on, however, you’ll gradually be able to relax until you are simply supervising. Surely that’s going to make a good return for just a few years of the tougher going?
‘Placed as you are now, what sort of future would you have? Nothing but hard work until you die in your tracks – and your children faced with working in the same way, just to keep going, not more than that. Where are the future leaders and administrators to come from in that kind of set-up? Your way, you’d be worn out and still in harness in another twenty years – and all your children would be yokels. Our way, you’ll be the head of a clan that’s working for you, and you’ll have an inheritance to hand on to your sons.’
Comprehension began to come to me. I said, wonderingly:
‘Am I to understand that you are offering me a kind of – feudal seigneury?’
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘I see you do begin to understand. It is, of course, the obvious and quite natural social and economic form for that state of things we are having to face now.’
There was no doubt whatever that the man was putting this forward as a perfectly serious plan. I evaded a comment on it by repeating myself:
‘But the place just can’t support that many.’
‘For a few years undoubtedly you’ll have to feed them mostly on mashed triffids – there won’t be any shortage of that raw material by the look of it.’
‘Cattle food!’ I said.
‘But sustaining – rich in the important vitamins, I’m told. And beggars – particularly blind beggars – can’t be choosers.’
‘You’re seriously suggesting that I should take on all these people, and keep them on cattle fodder?’
‘Listen, Mr Masen. If it were not for us, none of these blind people would be alive at all now – nor would their children. It’s up to them to do what we tell them, take what we give them, and be thankful for whatever they get. If they like to refuse what we offer – well, that’s their own funeral.’
I decided it would be unwise to say what I felt about his philosophy at the moment. I turned to another angle:
‘I don’t see – Tell me, just where do you and your Council stand in all this?’
‘Supreme authority and legislative power is vested in the Council. It will rule. It will also control the armed forces.’
‘Armed forces!’ I repeated, blankly.
‘Certainly. The forces will be raised as and when necessary by levies on what you called the seigneuries. In return, you will have the right to call on the Council in cases of attack from outside or unrest within.’
I was beginning to feel a bit winded.
‘An army! Surely a small mobile squad of police – ?’
‘I see you haven’t grasped the wider aspect of the situation, Mr Masen. This affliction we have had was not confined to these islands, you know. It was world wide. Everywhere there is the same sort of chaos – that must be so, or we should have heard differently by now – and in every country there are probably a few survivors. Now, it stands to reason, doesn’t it, that the first country to get on its feet again and put itself in order is also going to be the country to have the chance of bringing order elsewhere? Do you suggest that we should leave it to some other country to do this, and let it become the new dominant power in Europe – and possibly further afield? Obviously not. Clearly it is our national duty to get ourselves back on our feet as soon as possible and assume the dominant status so that we can prevent dangerous opposition from organizing against us. Therefore, the sooner we can raise a force adequate to discourage any likely aggressors, the better.’
For some moments silence lay on the room. Then Dennis laughed, unnaturally:
‘Great God almighty! We’ve lived through all this – and now the man proposes to start a war?’
Torrence said, shortly:
‘I don’t seem to have made myself clear. The word “war” is an unjustifiable exaggeration. It will be simply a matter of pacifying and administering tribes that have reverted to primitive lawlessness.’
‘Unless, of course, the same benevolent idea happens to have occurred to them,’ Dennis suggested.
I became aware that both Josella and Susan were looking at me very hard. Josella pointed at Susan, and I perceived the reason.
‘Let me get this straight,’ I said. ‘You expect the three of us who can see to be entirely responsible here for twenty blind adults and an unspecified number of children. It seems to me – ’
‘Blind people aren’t quite incapable. They can do a lot, including for their own children in general, and helping to prepare their own food. Properly arranged, a great deal can be reduced to supervision and direction. But it will be two of you, Mr Masen – yourself and your wife, not three.’
I looked at Susan sitting up very straight in her blue boiler-suit, with a red ribbon in her hair. There was an anxious appeal in her eyes as she looked from me to Josella.
‘Three,’ I said.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Masen. The allocation is ten per unit. The girl can come to headquarters. We can find useful work for her there until she is old enough to take charge of a unit herself.’
‘My wife and I regard Susan as our own daughter,’ I told him shortly.
‘I repeat, I am sorry. But those are the regulations.’
I regarded him for some moments. He looked steadily back at me. At last:
‘We should, of course, require guarantees and undertakings regarding her if this had to happen,’ I said.
I was aware of several quickly drawn breaths. Torrence’s manner relaxed slightly.
‘Naturally we shall give you all practicable assurances,’ he said.
I nodded. ‘I must have time to think it all over. It’s quite new to me, and rather startling. Some points come to my mind at once. Equipment here is wearing out. It is difficult to find more that has not deteriorated. I can see that before long I am going to need good strong working horses.’
‘Horses are difficult. There’s very little stock at present. You’ll probably have to use man-power teams for a time.’
‘Then,’ I said, ‘there’s accommodation. The outbuildings are too small for our needs now – and I can’t put up even prefabricated quarters singlehanded.’
‘There we shall be able to help you, I think.’
We went on discussing details for twenty minutes or more. By the end of it I had him showing something like affability, then I got rid of him by sending him off on a tour of the place with Susan as his sulky guide.
‘Bill, what on earth – ?’ Josella began, as the door closed behind him and his companions.
I told her what I knew of Torrence and his method of dealing with trouble by shooting it early.
‘That doesn’t surprise me at all,’ remarked Dennis. ‘But, you know, what is surprising me now is that I’m suddenly feeling quite kindly towards the triffids. Without their intervention I suppose there would have been a whole lot more of this kind of thing by now. If they are the one factor that can stop serfdom coming back, then good luck to ’em.’
‘The whole thing’s clearly preposterous,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t have a chance. How could Josella and I look after a crowd like that and keep the triffids out? But – ’ I added, ‘we’re scarcely in a position to give a flat “No” to a proposition put up by four armed men.’
‘Then you’re not – ?’
‘Darling,’ I said, ‘do you really see me in the position of a seigneur, driving my serfs and villeins before me with a whip? – even if the triffids haven’t overrun me first?’
‘But you said – ’
‘Listen,’ I said. ‘It’s getting dark. Too late for them to leave now. They’ll have to stay the night. I imagine that tomorrow the idea will be to take Susan away with them – she’d make quite a good hostage for our behaviour, you see. And they might leave one or two of the others to keep an eye on us. Well, I don’t think we’re taking that, are we?’
‘No, but – ’
‘Well, I hope I’ve convinced him now that I’m coming round to his idea. Tonight we’ll have the sort of supper that might be taken to imply accord. Make it a good one. Everybody’s to eat plenty. Give the kids plenty, too. Lay on our best drinks. See that Torrence and his chaps have plenty, but the rest of us go very easy. Towards the end of the meal I shall disappear for a bit. You keep the party going to cover up. Play rowdy records at them, or something. And everybody help to whoop it up. Another thing – nobody must mention Michael Beadley and his lot. Torrence must know about the Isle of Wight set-up, but he doesn’t think we do. Now what I’ll be wanting is a sack of sugar.’
‘Sugar?’ said Josella blankly.
‘No? Well, a big can of honey, then. I should think that would do as well.’
Everyone played up very creditably at supper. The party not only thawed, it actually began to warm up. Josella brought out some of her own potent mead to supplement the more orthodox drinks, and it went down well. The visitors were in a state of happily comfortable relaxation when I made my unobtrusive exit.
I caught up a bundle of blankets and clothes and a parcel of food that I had laid ready, and hurried with them across the yard to the shed where we kept the half-track. With a hose from the tanker which held our main petrol supply I filled the half-track’s tanks to overflowing. Then I turned my attention to Torrence’s strange vehicle. With the help of a hand-dynamo torch I managed to locate the filler-cap, and poured a quart or more of honey into the tank. The rest of the large can of honey I disposed of into the tanker itself.
I could hear the party singing, and seemingly, still going well. After I had added some anti-triffid gear and miscellaneous afterthoughts to the stuff already in the half-track, I went back and joined it until it finally broke up in an atmosphere which even a close observer might have mistaken for almost maudlin goodwill.
We gave them two hours to get well asleep.
The moon had risen, and the yard was bathed in white light. I had forgotten to oil the shed doors, and gave them a curse for every creak. The rest came in procession towards me. The Brents and Joyce were familiar enough with the place not to need a guiding hand. Behind them followed Josella and Susan, carrying the children. David’s sleepy voice rose once, and was stopped quickly by Josella’s hand over his mouth. She got into the front, still holding him. I saw the others into the back and closed it. Then I climbed into the driving seat, kissed Josella, and took a deep breath.
Across the yard the triffids were clustering closer to the gate as they always did when they had been undisturbed for some hours.
By the grace of heaven the half-track’s engine started at once. I slammed into low gear, swerved to avoid Torrence’s vehicle, and drove straight at the gate. The heavy fender took it with a crash. We plunged forward in a festoon of wire-netting and broken timbers, knocking down a dozen triffids while the rest slashed furiously at us as we passed. Then we were on our way.
Where a turn in the climbing track let us look down on Shirning, we paused and cut the engine. Lights were on behind some of the windows, and as we watched, those on the vehicle blazed out, floodlighting the house. A starter began to grind. I had a twinge of uneasiness as the engine fired, though I knew we had several times the speed of that lumbering contraption. The machine began to jerk round on its tracks to face the gate. Before it completed the turn, the engine sputtered and stopped. The starter began to whirr again. It went on whirring, irritably, and without result.
The triffids had discovered that the gate was down. By a blend of moonlight and reflected headlights we could see their tall, slender forms already swaying in ungainly procession into the yard while others came lurching down the banks of the lane to follow them…
I looked at Josella. She was not crying buckets: not crying at all. She looked from me down to David asleep in her arms.
‘I’ve all I really need,’ she said, ‘and some day you’re going to bring us back to the rest, Bill.’
‘Wifely confidence is a very nice trait, darling, but – No, damn it, no buts – I am going to bring you back,’ I said.
I got out to clear the debris from the front of the half-track, and wipe the poison from the windscreen so that I should be able to see to drive on and away across the tops of the hills towards the south-west.
And there my personal story joins up with the rest. You will find it in Elspeth Cary’s excellent history of the colony.
Our hopes all centre here now. It seems unlikely that anything will come of Torrence’s neo-feudal plan, though a number of his seigneuries do still exist with their inhabitants leading, so we hear, a life of squalid wretchedness behind their stockades. But there are not so many of them as there were. Every now and then Ivan reports that another has been over-run, and that the triffids which surrounded it have dispersed to join other sieges.
So we must regard the task ahead as ours alone. We think now that we can see the way, but there is still a lot of work and research to be done before the day when we, or our children, or their children, will cross the narrow straits on the great crusade to drive the triffids back and back with ceaseless destruction until we have wiped the last one of them from the face of the land that they have usurped.