Chapter 8 – 'Conversation'
JACQUI FELT that she ought to reply—but she did not know how. Perhaps the creatures would understand if she spoke to them. Nervously, she began:
"My name is Jacqui. I want to know where you come from; why you came here; why your 'Children' wreaked so much havoc during their lifetime; what your plans are."
There was a pause. Then the 'voice inside her head' began speaking once more. "We understand your questions, but we cannot answer all of them. There is much we do not know. We come from a planet mostly covered in water, like yours, and we live in water. But that you already know."
That was encouraging. At least the creatures could understand her speech, although whether it was by sound reception or by picking up her thoughts as she spoke, who could tell? She must try to get more information. She noticed that Helen had come back into the chamber, astonished—but she motioned to her to stay out of it.
"Where is your home planet?" continued Jacqui. "How far away is it?"
"We do not know. We have not been told. We only know what information the second-phase host, from which we emerged, passed on to us. Our kindred—others of our kind—we understood that they were to come and transport us back to our home, but they have not come. We need help."
" 'Second-phase host'? I think you must mean the girl—the only female survivor of those we called the Children."
"Survivor, yes. The mission to your planet must have failed. There should be many times sixty-four of us. We are only three. Perhaps that is why the kindred did not come."
Jacqui thought for a while. Should she reveal to them why there were so few? But they must surely know something of it.
"Our people exterminated almost all of your 'second-phase hosts', as you call them. I'm guessing that 'first-phase hosts' must mean the normal, human women who gave birth to these 'second-phase hosts'. But they—the 'seconds'—were a threat to our race. If we had not destroyed them, they would have destroyed us."
"We do not understand. Our kind comes to a planet like this one in order to breed. We do not mean harm. That is all we know."
"But your kind have a power of compulsion—of duress—that is a danger to us. None of our kind—nor indeed any creature on this planet—has that power. It was used recklessly, murderously even, against us."
"Again we do not understand. We have the power to communicate, to pass on thoughts to others. We are using it now. We do not understand what you mean by 'danger' , 'recklessly', 'murderously'. But once again, why have you come to us?"
"Because my grandfather was living in this place when your Chi—; when your second-phase hosts first appeared. He experienced all the troubles that they caused. And he has charged me with learning as much as I can about you."
"We do not understand 'grandfather'."
"Oh, think of him as a sort of 'first-phase host' for me. Not a very good analogy, sorry. He is dead now. And so I am trying to find out all about you. If I can help, I will. Now, what else can you tell me?"
"We know nothing else but what we have told you. If our kindred do not come, we do not think you will learn any more. We are sorry. We must wait for them: they may still come."
Jacqui felt that she had got enough out of these creatures for now. Perhaps in a future interview they might reveal more of help to them, or her. She put on her helmet again and nodded to Helen, who opened the airlock and led the way outside. There they both took off their helmets.
"What do you make of that, did you catch any of it?" began Jacqui.
"Very little," replied Helen. "I could scarcely hear you through my helmet, and nothing of the creatures' responses—if they were responding. All I can say is, you're a very brave woman. But I'm delighted."
"They do not seem to be hostile," said Jacqui. And she went into a full account of the 'conversation' she had had with the Trumpet-Eels—brief though it had been. "Not a lot of help, is it?"
"It's a huge advance on what we've managed in thirty-five years. Will you repeat this, for the record? And you must come again, see if you can coax some more out of them."
With that, the two of them walked back into Kyle Manor, where Jacqui thankfully divested herself of the 'space-suit' and resumed her normal clothing. Then a small recorder was placed before her and she repeated, word-for-word as best she could recall, her 'conversation'.
There seemed little more to be done. Helen explained that she would be staying behind in Midwich for now, so she profusely thanked Jacqui, who was then driven back to the helicopter for the flight back to Northolt.
Back home, Jacqui sat down in a bemused state, thinking about all she had seen and heard that day. She was mentally and physically exhausted, and was glad that Paul would not be home for some time to tease her. She could not eat but made herself several cups of strong coffee.
What the creatures had 'asked for'—presumably help in contacting their home planet—was surely impossible. They did not even know how far it was, nor in what direction it lay. And although the Pioneer and Voyager spacecraft—far on their way out of the Solar System and unreachable—would eventually encounter other star systems, they were almost certainly going in the wrong direction, and it would take them thousands of years to get anywhere. The Trumpet-Eels may be long-lived, but they could not survive that long, surely.
If by any chance, another alien spacecraft, similar to the one that had landed at Midwich years before, did indeed appear in the skies above Earth, the combined military forces of this planet would surely shoot it down. Earth could not tolerate another Dayout—nor all that followed. So the dim prospect of 'rescue' seemed as remote as ever.
Despite the coffee, Jacqui found herself dozing off, and was barely wakened by Paul's arrival some hours later. With a sigh, he set about preparing dinner, as he had done before. Once they were sat at the table, the banter began afresh.
"So how was the flying-saucer trip this time, my dear? Did they take you as far as Uranus?" He deliberately pronounced it 'your anus'—another wind-up.
"Paul, I did go on a flight today—but not in anything saucer-shaped: just a common-or-garden helicopter. If it really is common-or-garden: I'd never been in one before. We only went as far as Midwich. And I learnt a lot—but I'm bound by secrecy not to reveal anything. So please shut up, my dear."
"All right, Jacqui. Peace! But I'm beginning to get really curious now. You're on to something, I can tell that—and as your husband haven't I a right to know?"
"In this case, absolutely, no, Paul. It's a State secret and I'd go to prison even if I told only you. So please don't pester me. And after dinner I'd like to go straight to bed. It's been an exhausting day."
Over the next few days, Jacqui gradually recovered from her strange adventure. She resumed going in to work, but her editor was not happy, and after a few days Jacqui was summoned into her office.
"It's this Ministry vetting of everything you submit," she complained: "even the match reports. It holds things up no end. Readers want to see the match report the day after—not two weeks later. I appreciate you've been up to things in your own time which you're not allowed to tell us—but surely they don't imagine there could be anything subversive in the football results! So can you please get these Ministry chaps off my back?"
"I'll try," replied Jacqui, wistfully.
"Well, you'd better—otherwise I may have to let you go. It'd be a shame: you've been a good worker here."
With the threat of dismissal hanging over her, Jacqui was in a quandary as to how to set about it, but as it happened Helen phoned her that same afternoon. Jacqui put her dilemma to her.
"I'll see what I can do," said Helen. "Perhaps the Minister will change his mind. I wanted to tell you this: I went into the Trumpet-Eels' habitat again, and took my helmet off, just like you did. I don't think I'd have plucked up the courage if I hadn't seen you do it! But nothing happened. The Eels sort of 'looked' at me but didn't 'say' anything: that is, I didn't hear any 'voices' inside my head, the way you did. And they didn't seem to react to anything I said."
"That's strange. Why me and not you?"
"Perhaps you have a special power of 'rapport' with these creatures which I don't have. But I agree with you on this point: they don't seem to pose much of a threat. But who can tell?—they may be simply biding their time, waiting for the moment to attack. We shall keep all the shielding up: you can depend on it!
"In the meantime, I'd like you to come to Midwich again. You've become our communication vector with these creatures, and we don't want to lose you. How about this: if I tell the Minister, you'll cooperate just so long as we pull the security guys off your editor?"
"Yes—please!" replied Jacqui. "Anything to smooth out the ruffles..."
So things turned out. The vetting of Jacqui's sports reports ceased, and the Mercury was once again full of the finest reports of the finest goals, finest saves, tackles, yellow cards, and red cards, that the local teams could come up with—just as the readership wanted.
And three weeks later Jacqui was back in Midwich, back in the Trumpet-Eels' chamber, once again trying to 'talk' to them. But it was a disappointment, and frustrating. The Eels had nothing more to tell her: they merely pleaded with her once again to try and find a 'way out' for them.
The visits continued sporadically for several months, with no improvement, until in the end it was agreed by all: Jacqui, Helen, the Minister, and even the Prime Minister—that further visits were fruitless. So they were called off: but Helen promised to keep in touch, and made it clear that she would summon Jacqui at a moment's notice if there were any new developments.
Besides, Jacqui had other things to think about...