The Day of the Triffids

XVII. Strategic Withdrawal

There was, as Josella bad implied, no need for hurry. While we saw the summer out at Sliming, I could prospect a new borne 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 woodpile had been destroyed. We needed no more fuel than would keep the kitchen going for a few weeks, but that we had to have, so the next morning Susan and I set off to fetch coal.

The half-tack wasn’t suitable for that job, so we took a four-wheel-drive tuck. 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 sla8hing 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 dumfounded us that we sat gaping at it for same 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 an 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 learn more about it.

In the living room we found, in addition to the household, four men clad in gray-green ski suits. Two of them wore pistols holstered to the right hip; the other two had parked their submachine guns on the floor beside their chairs.

As we came in, Josella turned a completely expressionless face toward 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 very well the way that efficient young man had turned hack 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,” 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-someplace air. “I am Commander, Southeast 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 Southeastern 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?”

‘There has to be law and order,” he 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 here only 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. LI saw a warning in it. But in any case, I had no intention of breaking out just then. I had seen the redheaded 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 H. Q. 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 around 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 trucks, and they are having to go too far. It had to come, of course. We’d figured 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, we are now 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 you’ll begin to have labor 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 died in your tracks— and your children would be 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 setup? 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 such a 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.”

“Aimed 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 for some other country to do this, and so make itself the new dominant power in Europe—and possibly farther 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 wan”

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 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 caring 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 overalls, 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 H.Q. 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 bad 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 accommodations. The outbuildings are too small for our needs now—and I can’t put up even prefabricated quarters single handed.”

“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. “You know, what is surprising me is that I’m suddenly feeling quite kindly toward 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 fiat ‘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 behavior, you see. And they might leave one or two of their men 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 of that. but the rest of us go very easy. Toward 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 is to mention Michael Beadley and his lot. Torrence must know about the Isle of Wight setup, 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 behaved 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 gas supply I filled the half-track’s tanks to overflowing. Then I turned my attention to Torrence’s strange vehicle. By the light 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-triffids gear and miscellaneous afterthoughts to the stuff already in the half-track, I went back and joined the party until it finally broke up in an atmosphere which even a close observer might have mistaken for almost maudlin good will.

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 toward 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 dark, 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 at all. She looked from me down to David, asleep in her arms.

“I’ve all I really need,” she said, “and someday 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 windshield so that I should be able to see to drive, on and away across the tops of the bills, toward the southwest.

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 Center here, it seems unlikely now 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 overrun, and that the triffids which surrounded it have dispersed to join other sieges.

So we must think of the task ahead as ours alone. We believe now that we can see our 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 a great crusade to drive the triffids back and back with ceaseless destruction until we have wiped out the last one of them from the face of the land that they have usurped.