Fifth Planet

by Fred Hoyle

  Soon he began to come into the surburban traffic. They wouldn’t have much chance of finding them now. The next

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  big danger would be his medical friend. Friend was a word

  of wide connotation, and in this case he could hardly expect it to mean that the man he knew in Wimpole Street would not be suspicious and would not insist on some sort of investigation being made. But that was a risk that had to be taken when he came to it.

  He went wrong in a one-way system and had to drive round twice before he found the right place. He had to double park so that Cathy wouldn’t have to walk more than the distance from the road to the old-fashioned house that now faced him. Before getting her out he rang the bell. A uniformed maid, or nurse, he couldn’t tell which, answered the door. He gave his name and asked to see Dr Gwyn Jones. The girl told him the doctor was out but would be back shortly. So there was nothing for it but for him to take the girl into 'his confidence.

  ‘There’s been an accident, a shooting accident,’ he said in a nervous sort of way. ‘My wife has been shot. I know it sounds ridiculous, it always sounds ridiculous. I never thought it would happen to me, but it did when I was cleaning my gun.’ The girl looked alarmed and suspicious.

  ‘Oh, it’s not what you think. She’s not very badly hurt. I wouldn’t have shot her in the shoulder if I wanted ...’

  ‘Hadn’t we better get her inside the house?’ said the girl.

  ‘Oh yes, could you please help me ?’

  They got Cathy out of the car and up the steps and along a passage and into 'the surgery. The girl, who evidently was a nurse after all, began to examine the wound. ‘You should have taken her to hospital.’

  ‘Well, I know Dr Jones pretty well, and I thought if he could see her straight away ... you see I’d like her to be treated by somebody I know. She can go to hospital afterwards, can’t she?’

  ‘Yes, of course. But it would have been easier at the hospital. We don’t have the same equipment here, you see. But I suppose since you’re here you might as well wait.’

  Jones came in not many minutes later. He took one look

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  at the wound and whistled slowly. ‘Don’t say you were cleaning a gun and shot her,’ he said.

  ‘That’s exactly what I do say.’

  ‘She should really be on the operating table.’

  ‘Can’t you fix her up here ? ’

  ‘I’d sooner not.’

  ‘Can’t you do it as a favour ?’

  ‘I can. But I’ll have to make a report, you know, and it will have to be full and accurate.’

  ‘All right, but will you please hurry. It’s hurting her all the time we’re talking.’

  Jones began to prepare to do the job. Conway realized that Cathy would have to be put out, otherwise the pain would be too much. And while she was out there was nothing that could be done if the authorities should arrive. He didn’t like the thought of his car, displaying what must by now be a widely advertised number, double parked outside in a busy street.

  ‘I’m going to leave it to you, Gwyn. My car’s double parked outside,’ he ended weakly.

  Without bothering to see how Jones and the nurse took it he marched outside and jumped quickly into his car. By a mercy the police were not waiting for him. Probably they knew it was a doctor’s house and made some allowance, and his number hadn’t yet reached the constables on duty. He drove for a couple of miles, and left the car without troubling himself about correct parking. They could find it now if they wanted to. He took a taxi back to Jones’s house. The manoeuvre had taken him twenty-five minutes, but he reckoned they wouldn’t be finished with Cathy yet. He rang the bell and the door was answered again by the nurse. ‘It isn’t finished yet. You really should have taken her to hospital, you know.’

  ‘I suppose I should, but I wanted it done by a doctor that I know. I’ll ring them now and ask them to send an ambulance if you like.’

  ‘That would be the best thing. Would you like me to do it ?’

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  ‘No, I’ll do it myself if I could use your phone.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘What should I tell them ? I mean, what time should I ask them to come here?’

  ‘I think Doctor will be finished in about twenty minutes’ time. You could ask them to be here half an hour from now.’

  She showed him to the phone and then went back to the surgery. He got the hospital, told them he was Dr Jones, said he had a serious accident case, and would they come in twenty minutes’ time. Then he made another call. A woman’s voice answered him, and after a brief conversation he began to think that maybe his luck had turned a bit.

  The ambulance arrived before Jones had finished his operation. Conway told them to wait and that the patient would be ready in a moment. He didn’t mind them being double parked, and they’d be able to make a quick getaway once the job was done. He didn’t want Jones asking a lot of questions. A few minutes later Jones came out to him and said, ‘I’d like to have a few words with you.’ From this Conway knew that Cathy must be all right.

  ‘I don’t know whether the nurse has told you, but I’ve had second thoughts about the hospital. I’ve got an ambulance outside.’

  ‘You ought to have done that before. There’ll have to be an inquiry.’

  He went to the door and nodded to the ambulance men. Within a moment they were carrying a stretcher into the house. Conway followed them into the surgery and saw Cathy being moved gently. She was still under the anaesthetic, her face was wan and drained. It made Conway mad with himself. Twice he’d made the mistake of underestimating his opponents. The men carried her out of the surgery and he made to follow them.

  ‘Just a'moment, they can wait. I’d like you to see this.’

  Gwyn was holding out the bullet to him. He took it and looked it over and said, ‘What’s so special about this?’

  ‘It’s a military calibre. I hope you understand, Hugh.

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  Just as soon as you’ve gone I’m going to make a report to the police. In my position I can’t do otherwise.’

  ‘I wouldn’t ask you to do otherwise,’ answered Conway. ‘And my thanks, Gwyn, I can’t tell you how much it means.’ He looked Jones dead in the eye. He meant exactly what he said.

  The ambulance men had got Cathy into position inside their machine and they had closed up the doors at the back of it. Conway got into the front beside the driver. The other man moved in on his left. They manoeuvred through the streets with the siren going. Conway wondered if he should try to make conversation but decided in favour of a dull silence. They swung into University College Hospital and drove to the Casualty Department. As soon as they came to a halt the driver and his mate jumped out on opposite sides and moved to the back, from which they intended to take the stretcher. Instantly Conway slipped over to ‘the driver’s seat; he pressed the ignition switch and the engine sprang to life, and a moment later he was on his way back to the main gate. There were angry shouts from behind but that was a matter of small consequence. He leant over 'and got hold of the left-hand door and slammed it shut. Soon 'he was speeding back through the streets. He resisted the impulse to switch on the siren. There was no point in gilding the lily.

  His route took him into the City and across London Bridge. Soon he quitted the main road and began to explore the side streets. It took quite a while to find what he wanted. It was a small apartment made originally out of a disused warehouse. He rang the bell and the door was opened by the slim dark girl he had spent the night with the best part of two years ago.

  ‘You’re alone?’

  ‘Yes, I put off my other arrangements.’

  Conway spoke urgently. ‘It’s not quite what you think, I’m afraid. It’s my wife, she’s been shot — oh no, not by me. There are rea
sons why I don’t want to be found, I want her

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  to lie up for a week or two. Gan we stay here? I’ll make it worth your while if you’ll do it.’

  The girl looked at him for some time and then suddenly nodded. ‘You did a lot for me,’ she said quite simply.

  It wasn’t easy to get Cathy up into the apartment. They had to climb a flight of stairs which luckily wasn’t too steep. But it was as much as the dark girl could manage. At last they had Cathy off the stretcher on to the bed.

  He went back to the ambulance and collected all the considerable medical supplies that were carried inside it. He’d need them to dress Cathy’s shoulder. When he had taken them upstairs he said to the girl, ‘She’ll be waking up quite soon. Tell her that I’ll be away for a little while, but that she’s quite safe with you. I want to get rid of the ambulance so that they can’t trace us. Besides, they’ll have need of it.’

  He drove back into the City. It was the last risk, but even if they got him now they wouldn’t get Cathy. It would take some doing to trace her to Emling’s flat. He supposed that it could be done but it would take quite some time. As he came up to it he decided on impulse to park outside the Bank of England. It seemed the right sort of thing to do.

  He couldn’t risk a taxi of course. So he walked back the way he had come. It took over an hour, but he was well satisfied as he mounted the old warehouse steps. The girl answered his ring. ‘She’s awake now, and she’s been asking for you. She’s very beautiful.’

  As the days went by Cathy improved slowly. With the antibiotics he had got from the ambulance he was able to dress the wound. It seemed to him 'that the chances of their being traced were practically nil. He had no intention of going out on the streets himself, so there would be no chance of his being recognized and followed, and the dark girl enjoyed the unexpected domesticity.

  He had half a fear that they’d blow the whole story in the papers and that the girl, when 'he sent her out, would see them and might get scared. That was the one danger. In

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  fact she was bound to get scared once she knew that it was Cathy who had caused the vision. But they’d be taking big risks to publish the story and he couldn’t really see them doing it. The whole population would fly into even worse hysterics than they were in now, if they knew that Cathy had done it and that she was on the loose amongst them.

  In the event he was right. The girl came back with newspapers in which his picture and that of Cathy were prominently displayed, under enormous headlines announcing:

  DISTINGUISHED PROFESSOR MISSING UNDER MYSTERIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES

  The story was written up as if to suggest that the mysterious circumstances were of a decidedly sexual nature. The girl grinned up at him, ‘They certainly let themselves go! Wonder what they’d say if they knew you were here.’ She winked at him.

  Conway watched her for a moment as she moved around the apartment. Had it occurred to her that the papers would pay as much as she earned in a year to know the whereabouts of himself and Cathy? He had a feeling that even if it did occur to her she wouldn’t do anything about it. She seemed to be looking on them as the same sort of outcast from society as she was herself. It wasn’t like Gwyn Jones, nice fellow that he was. It was just that the pressures were different. He wondered how the girl had managed to stay on in the place for so long. After all, Ending must have been back in the meantime. He had a feeling that Emling probably found the situation to his advantage.

  It had been a good idea of the papers to publish a scandal story about them. Nobody would disbelieve it, hardly even his friends, and it would keep people watching out for him. He reckoned that if Cathy’s arm could be given two or three weeks rest they’d pretty well have made up most of the lost ground. In fact they might be a bit ahead of the field, for the authorities had declared their hand now. They’d lost the

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  advantages of surprise. It was probably true what the young

  Major had said, that they would get them in the end, but they’d have to fight hard for it.

  During the days that followed, as Cathy grew stronger, they had time to talk. Their discussions ranged far and wide as they explored the limits of each other’s minds and understanding. The dark girl shopped, did the cooking, and nursed Cathy. She saw that Conway did his share and, as she grew to know him better, teased him about 'his increasing abstraction while doing them. There was no doubt that his mind was fully occupied; his talks with Cathy led him into new fields of thought. His mind raced and the new ideas were so big that the thoughts themselves seemed to be outside himself and towering high above him. He felt the indescribable thrill that comes from seeing just a little farther into the structure of the world than anybody has done before. It was a wholly new and vast territory which spread before him. It was like looking into an enormous underground cavern with the dimmest of cave-explorers’ lamps, seeing no detail, only gaining an overwelming impression of size and space.

  He began to understand the relationship between mind and matter and their expression in terms of mathematical physics. His brain so teemed with the new ideas that he had not time to start expressing them in equation form. It was sufficient for the moment to note the salient trends of his thoughts so that he could work on them later, that is if he had much future left for such things.

  He was delighted when he realized that the nature’ of the animating force of life was an irregularity in a wave surface, like a flash of radiation. As it travels in respect of time, so our lives are propelled through the electrical circuits in our brain. And it is the firing of impulses in the brain that controls the chemistry of our bodies.

  The wave surface over a short period of time would appear like a standing wave in the four dimensional structure of the body, totally contained by the body. But once

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  outside die body the standing waves would dissipate themselves and become lost. In this way in death the irregularity of the wave surface would become diffused, but in the event of sudden death there was no reason why a radiation should not be emitted and interact with matter again. He began to see the answers to some of the things that had puzzled him.

  He said to Cathy one day, ‘When you were shot you came right across to me for a moment, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, it was very risky but I had to chance it.’

  ‘Risky because you had to get the direction right and all that sort of thing?’

  ‘Of course, luckily you were very close, I had to be very close to Fawsett.’

  He pondered on this for a time and then said, quietly, ‘It’s an odd thing that we always feel it is better to die quickly. Now I see why. It makes no difference of course if there is nothing to pick you up, but, if there is, it is better to come out all in one piece as it were.’

  ‘That is how we always do it. Nobody ever really dies because we always arrange it so that they are always picked up by some material structure. We 'have discovered how to hold these fields, rather like one of your blood banks.’

  ‘A bank of life, of personality?’

  ‘Yes, we can take the stuff out, we can develop it and we can put it back again just as we please. When your expedition was on our planet a mistake was made and a group of them managed to get into one of our banks of life.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘They destroyed it. We were angry and killed two of them.’

  Conway had known nothing about the transparent sheets and the great central transparent box with its vibrant, shimmering flashes.

  Cathy said, ‘They didn’t understand it so they simply, destroyed it.’

  Conway could believe this only too well. For the first

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  time he was glad that some reparation had been made on his own species, not so much by the two d
eaths but during the agony of the vision.

  Another thought struck him. ‘When you influence people you obviously have the ability to spread the local form of your wave surface. We can’t do that, perhaps our wave field is too closely confined within ourselves. Your field can be made to interact with others. How can you affect so many people at once?’

  ‘I can only do it to people close to me as I only generate a small field transmission myself. I have got to depend on the receivers amplifying what I send them and then transmitting it to somebody else. They can only transmit an amplification of my signal if they naturally possess an amplification of course - just as I can’t make you see anything that isn’t inside you or make you understand something that you could not work out for yourself.’

  ‘I see, a strongly developed static pattern is already there. You can use this and it is retransmitted as a sort of chain reaction. Everybody was in the right condition for it because people had been sucking up propaganda throughout their lives. As the transmission spreads the strength increases because more people become transmitters.’ He grinned, ‘We used to think panic was spread by a creature with a set of reed pipes.’

  The papers were full of news of governments. No mention had been made of Vladimir Kaluga in the Russian Press for some time. He was no doubt on his way to Outer Mongolia to supervise irrigation projects. The American Press was blazing furiously as the political parties fought openly for control. In Britain the Prime Minister spoke in moderate terms of standing firm, glorious tradition, and his trusted team. Plainly the hatchets were out. It was clear that governments were falling, but would there be any change? Could there be a basic change without genetic modification of the species? Would he and Cathy survive?

  ‘You took a big risk coming here, didn’t you?’ he said.

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