Storm on Venus

by R. A. Bentley

  'He means the car,' explained Daphne.

  'I found it a little frightening,' admitted the Migraani. 'Your driver goes so fast and one comes so close to others of its kind that a collision seems inevitable.'

  'But you liked the sea?' said Daphne.

  'Oh yes, and the shops also. But not so much as the sky. You are so fortunate in your sky. I can scarcely drag my eyes from it.'

  But before they could continue this interesting conversation they heard angry voices coming from the house. The next moment the French window was flung open and an agitated Professor marched onto the terrace crying, 'No, I say! It's quite out of the question. I don't know how you can be so unreasonable; I should have thought you owed me that much at least.'

  'My dear Lambent, it is you who are being unreasonable,' replied the Tuuntu, following him out. 'What you ask is impossible. Do you think our ship is a hackney cab or an omnibus to be forever flying back and forth to Earth?'

  'Why, what can be the matter?' exclaimed Daphne. 'I have never known Daddy shout so.'

  The Migraani sighed resignedly. 'You must not concern yourself, my dear; it is a trifling matter and quite easily resolved. I had hoped that left alone they might manage it for themselves, but now I think it is time to show the mark.' Somewhat awkwardly she extended a hand. 'Miss, Lambent, may I say how very much I have enjoyed our outing together? And thank you again for these beautiful clothes. I had not expected . . . such kindness.'

  'It was my pleasure,' said Daphne. 'I enjoyed it too.'

  They watched, fascinated, as the elegant Venusian now fairly marched onto the terrace, took the Professor by the arm and after a few quiet words returned him, gently but firmly, to his negotiations.

  'That woman is as disturbing as her companion,' asserted Charles. 'I'm beginning to wonder if their remarkable resemblance to us is much more than skin-deep.'

  'I wonder what she meant by show the mark,' mused Wilfred.

  'Roughly equivalent to read the riot act, I should imagine.'

  'Or pull rank?'

  Freddy nodded his agreement. 'Which prompts the interesting question: which of them takes precedence? One cannot automatically assume it's the Tuuntu. I seem to recall that we were introduced to the Migraani first.'

  'It's almost a reversal of the sexes,' said Charles. 'I don't care for it at all. Did you discover anything about them, Daphne?'

  'Not much. I did ask her what made her a migraani and she said it meant she was the head of her house, whatever that is. They're named after colours apparently, and hers is the Blue. That's all she ever wears, have you noticed? She insisted I have it too, even though I told her I'd got something similar already, and she was terribly fierce with the shopgirls; she actually made one poor little thing cry. I shall be embarrassed to go in there now.'

  'It reminds one of school — houses and colours,' said Wilfred. 'What about the meaning of tuuntu? Did you ask?'

  'Yes. She said it was Venusian for trouble.'

  'Ah, then the lady has a sense of humour!' cried Freddy delightedly. 'That, at least, must count in her favour.'

  'Well if she has, it's an awfully dry one,' said Daphne. 'She never once smiled all morning, though I tried so hard to make her like me.'

  'If it comes to that, she scarcely smiles at anyone,' said Charles.

  'No, she doesn't like me; I can tell. She asked me all sorts of quite personal things and when I tried to answer she just nodded, as if it wasn't really very interesting, and there would be a long silence and I wouldn't know how to fill it. It was all a bit of a bore. If she wants to go out again, Mummy can jolly well take her.'

  'Well at least she thanked you.'

  'Oh, she's unfailingly polite.'

  'Excuse me sir,' said Simms, who had been respectfully hovering, 'I have to remind you about Mr Cable. Four o'clock, sir.'

  'Lord, is that the time?' said Charles, glancing at his watch. 'Life must go on, I suppose, Venusians or not. Is the car still out?'

  'Yes sir, and washed.'

  'Right, I'll be with you as soon as I've changed. Are you coming, Daphne?'

  'No, I don't think I can face more travelling today. When will you be back?'

  'For dinner, I promise.'

  'Well it's a nap for me, I think,' said Freddy. 'All this excitement is too much for an old-un. I'll see you two later.'

  Left alone, Wilfred and Daphne smiled shyly at each other.

  'Game?' suggested Wilfred hopefully.

  Daphne glanced conspiratorially behind her. 'Shall I tell you what I'd really like to do? I'd like to visit the spaceship. I can't quite believe in it until I've seen it, and everyone else has, even the servants. Will you take me?'

  'Rather!' said Wilfred, and with a swing of his mallet sent one of Charles's balls spinning through a nearby hoop to the boundary.

  Minutes later they were in the wood, making their way along the winding, sun-dappled path that lead to the picnic glade. It was all very different from the night of the party. Birds sang merrily in the treetops, a squirrel watched them from a branch, and from somewhere nearby came the homely buzz and clink of a lawnmower. Listening to Daphne's happy chatter, Wilfred realised, a little sadly, that the intense, visceral thrill he had felt while hunting an unknown and possibly hostile creature through the darkness was unlikely to be repeated. Of course he was still immensely excited by their visitors, but it was now an excitement of the intellect only. He could scarcely hope to visit Venus, only learn about it at second-hand, and Wilfred, though he would not have recognised the description, was that somewhat rare thing, a cerebral adventurer, only completely happy when both body and mind were fully engaged. What he did recognise, however, was that he now faced a quite different challenge, one which was entirely new to him — the tyranny of the human heart. He knew full well, and was astonished by it, that he would willingly surrender all knowledge of Venus, all freedom, almost life itself, if only the girl walking beside him could somehow be his.

  'I say, I'm simply gasping for a ciggy,' confided Daphne. 'I didn't dare smoke this morning in case the Migraani disapproved. Wasn't that absolutely craven of me? I don't suppose you've got any?'

  Wilfred was a pipe man but he usually had a packet handy in case a girl should ask. They stopped and he lit one for each of them, lingering a little longer than was strictly necessary as she leaned close to him. It was, if he could have known it, almost their last innocent moment together.

  Suddenly Daphne giggled and scampered a few yards ahead. Coming to a big old tree-stump, she scrambled nimbly onto it, seeming not to care if she scuffed her new shoes. Putting a hand to her brow, she struck a comic pose like a sailor on lookout. 'I've always done this,' she explained, 'ever since I was a little girl. It's a ritual.'

  Wilfred was entranced. There was a good deal of the child about her now, he thought, for all her air of sophistication. At the same time he was beginning to feel rather ill at ease. This was not, after all, a Bournemouth shop-assistant but the daughter of a viscount, promised in marriage to probably the most eligible man in England. Suppose someone should see them? The last thing he wanted was to compromise her. You know,' he said, 'I'm wondering if this is quite proper, the two of us alone together. After all, you've only just got engaged.'

  Daphne smiled down at him in amusement. 'Goodness, how quaint you are! No-one worries about that sort of thing in our set. Until I'm married, I shall jolly well do as I like, and if Charles doesn't like it he'll just have to lump it. Anyway, he won't know, will he?' Standing on tiptoe, she peered through the trees. 'Oh gosh, I think I can see the spaceship already. But isn't it supposed to glow?'

  'Only in the dark, I expect,' said Wilfred. 'Do you love him?' Instantly he cursed himself for a fool. It would serve him right if she asked to be taken home immediately, never to speak to him again.

  But she only raised her perfectly pencilled eyebrows a little and said, 'You're the second person who's asked me that today; the Migraani did too.'

  'What did you tell her?
'

  'I said of course I did or I shouldn't be marrying him. I was quite sharp with her if you want to know, because I thought it was a bit of a cheek. After all, she scarcely knows me, and what business is it of hers anyway?'

  'I suppose that goes for me too,' said Wilfred, feeling wretched. 'I didn't mean to offend you. I'm sorry.'

  Daphne's expression softened. 'Oh no, goodness, I didn't mean you! I don't mind you asking. That's quite different because you're my friend. If you'd just got engaged, I should certainly want to know if you loved her, and all about her. We are friends, aren't we? I hope so.'

  'I hope so too,' said Wilfred.

  Daphne looked pleased. 'Good! I knew as soon as we met that we were going to be pals. I'm always right about things like that. And you mustn't worry about me being happy with Charles because I will be. Mummy says it's good to marry someone older because they're steadier, and he's frightfully handsome and dashing, don't you think? Besides, he's amazingly rich. He's got factories and all sorts; I've seen them. It's always nice to have money because being poor is such a bore, isn't it? Daddy says I nearly bankrupted him when I came out and now I'll be able to pay him back if he wants. And just because I'm getting married it doesn't mean we can't go on being friends, so you mustn't think it. I've got lots of friends, boys as well as girls, and I'm not going to give them all up for Charles. I expect you think that sounds terribly modern and freethinking, but that's the sort of person I am. Can you help me down, please?'

  Instinctively, Wilfred reached up to her but she giggled and gave him a little push. 'Not lift me,' she said archly. 'That wouldn't be proper.'

  The ship was not flattered by daylight, appearing rather battered and travel-worn, no doubt reflecting the hardships of voyaging among the stars. There were several quite deep dents and scratches in the shiny metal of its plating and in other places it appeared to have been patched with some quite different material. They found that the landing ramp beneath the bulbous 'eyes' had been left down, so that the shadowy interior could just be seen.

  'Gosh, what a funny shape it is,' said Daphne, 'like a huge tadpole. Daddy says it can go more than fifty thousand miles an hour. Just imagine!'

  'How does he know?'

  'Oh, that's easy; it's just long division. The Tuuntu told him it took three months to get here and Venus is about a hundred million miles away at present, so you can work it out. Sometimes it's closer, apparently, and sometimes it's farther away. You'd think it would always be the same, wouldn't you?'

  'Astronomy isn't my strong suit, I'm afraid,' admitted Wilfred. 'I expect you know a good deal more about it than I do.'

  'Daphne shook her head. 'I shouldn't think so. I've never been much interested really. Daddy does try to tell me things but they don't usually stick. Shall we go right up to it? We might even peer inside, since there's no one about.'

  'We might,' agreed Wilfred, 'but haven't you forgotten the thaal? I expect they've left him in charge.'

  Daphne shook her head. 'I hadn't forgotten. I'm not worried about him as long as I've got you to look after me. Anyway, he's only a sort of servant, isn't he? Like Masters or Simms. I think I should even quite like to see him again because I didn't really get a proper look last time. Just think, we're the only people in the whole world who even know the Venusians exist. Isn't that amazing? It's probably the most amazing thing that will ever happen to us.'

  'You're certainly the only person who's been shopping with one,' said Wilfred.

  Emerging from the shade of the trees, they crept across the few yards of open ground that separated them from the ship. Just as Wilfred had done, Daphne reached out and ran her fingers lightly over the vessel's pitted skin. 'It feels like a cat purring,' she whispered. 'One can imagine it taking off at any moment — whoosh! Come on, let's peek inside. If the thaal is there, we'll just say good morning politely and go away. After all, this is Daddy's wood so they can hardly stop us walking here.'

  Wilfred hesitated. He wanted very much to see inside the ship but he was responsible for her safety after all, and who knew what such a creature might do? 'How about if you keep cave?' he suggested. 'Someone ought to, in case the Venusians come back. I'll just have a quick look around and tell you what I saw.'

  'Not likely!' said Daphne, indignantly. 'If you're going in, so am I.'

  Ready to flee at any moment, they crept as silently as they could up the metal ramp. It wasn't possible to see directly inside after all, for at the top was only a small lobby or antechamber with narrow metal staircases curving upwards to the left and right. They scarcely noted these, however, in their surprise at what lay directly ahead, for barring their way was a pair of tall, ornate doors, their yellowish metal deeply embossed with depictions of improbable-looking beasts. In niches on either side stood two life-sized anthropomorphic figures, cast in the same material as the doors. They appeared to be wearing a form of armour, and were holding large and dangerous-looking axes. Each had on a broad-brimmed, flattish hat with a spike on the top, but where their faces should have been was only the vaguest suggestion of human features.

  'Golly!' whispered Daphne. 'They don't look terribly friendly do they?'

  'I expect these are locked,' said Wilfred, pushing at one of the doors, but to his surprise it fell silently and effortlessly open. There was an impression of great space, but beyond the first few feet, all was in darkness. 'Perhaps we shouldn't go inside,' he said. 'If they catch us, it might spark a diplomatic incident. Anyway, we shouldn't be able to see anything.'

  'There's bound to be a light switch,' said Daphne sensibly. 'And they're hardly likely to be back so soon.' Before Wilfred could stop her, she stepped across the threshold and was immediately bathed in a soft, pinkish glow. With a little squeak of surprise she jumped back. The light went out. 'Did I do that?'

  'There must be a pressure switch under the floor,' chuckled Wilfred.

  Entering cautiously they stared around them in amazement. Apart from the ingenious light switch, the advanced technology they were expecting was entirely absent. Instead, the lofty space in which they found themselves resembled nothing so much as a mediaeval hall. Rich tapestries covered the walls, tattered flags and banners hung above them, and at the far end – perhaps fifty feet away – was a low dais upon which stood two magnificent gilded thrones. Only the burnished metal floor and the distant hum of the engine reminded them they were in a spaceship at all.

  'Words fail me,' said Wilfred, shaking his head in wonderment. 'All it needs is a round table.'

  They walked slowly up the length of the room and paused before the thrones, one of which was larger and considerably more ornate than the other.

  'Do you suppose they live in here?' said Daphne. 'It's terribly bare.'

  'Look, there's a sort of upper gallery,' said Wilfred. 'And also some doors in that carved screen, but I don't think we should go any further.'

  Daphne shivered. 'No, all right. It's a bit creepy, isn't it? Like an empty church. It doesn't smell very nice either.'

  But they had scarcely begun to retrace their steps when there came a terrible, drawn-out cry, enough to chill the blood.

  Daphne clutched Wilfred's arm. 'Gracious, what was that? Was it the thaal, do you think?'

  Wilfred could feel the hairs on his neck begin to rise. He supposed he had expected something like an organ-grinder's monkey, only bigger, but this thing sounded like the stuff of nightmares. 'Just walk steadily towards the door,' he said. 'If he comes at us, make a dash for it and I'll tackle him.'

  'But where is he? We might run straight into him!'

  The cry came again, this time followed by a high-pitched whimper, like an animal in pain. Wilfred whirled around, desperate to locate the sound's origin. 'Confound it, he could be anywhere!'

  'Listen!' said Daphne. 'I think he's saying something.'

  Wilfred listened. Among the horrible, wheezing moans was what sounded like human speech. The language itself was incomprehensible but it had a rambling quality that sounded someh
ow familiar.

  'He's delirious!' said Daphne wonderingly. 'Like Daddy when he had scarlet fever.'

  'He could be,' agreed Wilfred, 'Or it could be the noise he makes normally. Anyway, the Venusians will be back soon. Let's get out of here.'

  'No, he's ill,' insisted Daphne. 'A woman knows these things. We should go and see.'

  Filled with indecision, they waited. All they could hear now was a low groaning sound.

  'It's as if he's right under our feet,' frowned Wilfred. On an impulse he reached out and pushed aside an elaborately embroidered curtain. Behind it was a simple hole in the floor, surrounded by a handrail. Narrow steps led downwards. 'Right. You stay here. I'll see if I can catch sight of him then come straight back.'

  'No! You mustn't leave me alone!'

  'All right, but hold my hand; it's dark down there.'

  Beneath the throne room it was very hot, and the unpleasant smell was much worse. Another dim light, frighteningly slow to come on, revealed them to be in the very bottom of the ship; a rounded space, filled with beams and girders. On either side of a metal walkway was a row of tiny, windowless rooms, scarcely more than cupboards, and in one of them, lying face down on a narrow cot, was the thaal. At the sound of their voices he briefly raised himself but almost immediately fell back, emitting a long, shuddering moan.

  Why, he's been beaten! exclaimed Wilfred, kneeling to examine him. 'Look at these stripes.'

  'And there's blood on the floor,' said Daphne. 'The poor thing!'

  Perhaps six feet tall and of roughly human proportions, the creature was entirely covered with a coat of velvety, silver-grey fur, much marred by the oozing, suppurating weals that criss-crossed his lean torso. His arms hung slackly down on either side of the cot, which was devoid of any mattress, and his long legs were partly hidden beneath a single, filthy sheet. His leathery hands and feet, with their six slightly webbed digits seemed disproportionally large, while his bluntly rounded, whiskered muzzle somewhat resembled that of an otter, although no otter ever possessed such enormous eyes, or such a wonderfully delicate, almost translucent, pair of tall, pinkish ears. A unicorn would have seemed mundane by comparison.