“We found a kind of burrow in the mud that he emerged from. I think we should hear this right away.”
The President gave a curt command, and the aide brought in Mary and a young Chinese of wiry build, who was introduced as Dr. Sun. Mary’s face was drawn and expressionless. She clutched a thick portfolio of papers.
Acknowledging the President, she sat down next to Gordon. “Is there any news?” she said in a low voice.
“Of Peter? No, my dear, I’m afraid not. There hasn’t been news of anyone who was within a mile of the beach when thecreature came ashore, or of anyone between there and Jacksonville. The whole area has been cut off.”
He tried not to make it sound hopeless, but he knew it was no good disguising the truth. Mary nodded, put her papers on the table, and sat with head downcast and hands folded.
“Could we hear from Dr. Sun?” Gordon proposed.
The Chinese spoke very good English, with hardly a trace of accent. He said, “As you know, your American deep-television camera showed us certain articles on the ocean floor, which we went to investigate in our comrades’ bathynef. I was one of the special crew, for it was very very deep.
“We had time only to take a few things and many pictures, because the mud had again closed the mouth of the hole and we must spend three hours clearing it before beginning. But we did find much of interest. Mrs. Mary, please!”
Mary started and handed him pictures from her portfolio.
“There was many things like’ this,” Sun said, holding up a picture of a large cylinder with a huge blunt hollow needle on the end. “We find traces of oxygen and of dried organic liquid inside. We hypothesize that the creature would drive the point through his hide into a vein-equivalent and thereby oxygenate his blood, which is perhaps the dried liquid we find in the hollow sharp end. There are of these perhaps thousands.
“There are also”—another picture, this time of ranked shelves full of shadowy black oblate forms—”what it is perhaps possible to call ‘food.’ Water is dissolving these big lumps, but we salvaged some, and their analysis shows they include many elements common to the skin and skeleton of the dead body which Dr. Trant discovered in Atlantica.”
He was about to go on to another picture, when Gordon snapped his fingers and made an exclamation. Sun blinked at him, and courteously indicated that he should speak.
“Excuse me,” he apologized. “But I have an idea. On the basis of what can be deduced about the creature’s metabolism, could we synthesize a poison for him? A heavy poisongas, for example, which might be harmless or at worst merely dangerous to human beings?”
“God knows, Dr. Gordon,” said the President. “But if it can be done, that would certainly be the solution. Barghin, see that the Department of Chemical Warfare gets all the necessary data, would you?”
Realizing he was being addressed, the general looked up with a start. “I’m sorry, Mr. President,” he said. “I was just getting something out of these TV pictures of Jacksonville. I think I can guess where the monster is.”
XIV
H E HAD BEEN one of the lucky ones. …
Peter found this out when at long last he had an hour to himself which he did not need to spend in exhausted sleep. He felt as though he had been whipped continually night and day for years. His face and hands were coated with grime, his beard was matted round his chin, and his clothes, still salt-encrusted from his mad rush into the ocean, were torn and soiled. He had not looked at himself in a mirror. He did not need to to know that his eyes were red-rimmed and his cheeks suddenly sunken like an old man’s.
What little food he had had lately had been snatched from abandoned stores or delivery trucks. Sometimes he had taken crusts of bread from garbage cans, when there was no time to go hunting for something better and he was too hungry to go without.
The city had stopped when the master
The President gave a curt command, and the aide brought in Mary and a young Chinese of wiry build, who was introduced as Dr. Sun. Mary’s face was drawn and expressionless. She clutched a thick portfolio of papers.
Acknowledging the President, she sat down next to Gordon. “Is there any news?” she said in a low voice.
“Of Peter? No, my dear, I’m afraid not. There hasn’t been news of anyone who was within a mile of the beach when thecreature came ashore, or of anyone between there and Jacksonville. The whole area has been cut off.”
He tried not to make it sound hopeless, but he knew it was no good disguising the truth. Mary nodded, put her papers on the table, and sat with head downcast and hands folded.
“Could we hear from Dr. Sun?” Gordon proposed.
The Chinese spoke very good English, with hardly a trace of accent. He said, “As you know, your American deep-television camera showed us certain articles on the ocean floor, which we went to investigate in our comrades’ bathynef. I was one of the special crew, for it was very very deep.
“We had time only to take a few things and many pictures, because the mud had again closed the mouth of the hole and we must spend three hours clearing it before beginning. But we did find much of interest. Mrs. Mary, please!”
Mary started and handed him pictures from her portfolio.
“There was many things like’ this,” Sun said, holding up a picture of a large cylinder with a huge blunt hollow needle on the end. “We find traces of oxygen and of dried organic liquid inside. We hypothesize that the creature would drive the point through his hide into a vein-equivalent and thereby oxygenate his blood, which is perhaps the dried liquid we find in the hollow sharp end. There are of these perhaps thousands.
“There are also”—another picture, this time of ranked shelves full of shadowy black oblate forms—”what it is perhaps possible to call ‘food.’ Water is dissolving these big lumps, but we salvaged some, and their analysis shows they include many elements common to the skin and skeleton of the dead body which Dr. Trant discovered in Atlantica.”
He was about to go on to another picture, when Gordon snapped his fingers and made an exclamation. Sun blinked at him, and courteously indicated that he should speak.
“Excuse me,” he apologized. “But I have an idea. On the basis of what can be deduced about the creature’s metabolism, could we synthesize a poison for him? A heavy poisongas, for example, which might be harmless or at worst merely dangerous to human beings?”
“God knows, Dr. Gordon,” said the President. “But if it can be done, that would certainly be the solution. Barghin, see that the Department of Chemical Warfare gets all the necessary data, would you?”
Realizing he was being addressed, the general looked up with a start. “I’m sorry, Mr. President,” he said. “I was just getting something out of these TV pictures of Jacksonville. I think I can guess where the monster is.”
XIV
H E HAD BEEN one of the lucky ones. …
Peter found this out when at long last he had an hour to himself which he did not need to spend in exhausted sleep. He felt as though he had been whipped continually night and day for years. His face and hands were coated with grime, his beard was matted round his chin, and his clothes, still salt-encrusted from his mad rush into the ocean, were torn and soiled. He had not looked at himself in a mirror. He did not need to to know that his eyes were red-rimmed and his cheeks suddenly sunken like an old man’s.
What little food he had had lately had been snatched from abandoned stores or delivery trucks. Sometimes he had taken crusts of bread from garbage cans, when there was no time to go hunting for something better and he was too hungry to go without.
The city had stopped when the master
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