The Germ Growers: An Australian story of adventure and mysteryPotter, Robert
Science
The Germ Growers: An Australian story of adventure and mystery
Potter, Robert
Science fiction, Australian
I saw in the centre of the square a car somewhat smaller than that in
which we had travelled previously, but, like it, visible throughout.
It was just alighting as I came up. Signor Davelli was standing in the
square, and the man in the car was the same whom he had assigned
yesterday to Jack, and as he alighted he addressed him with a few
words and signs as before, and the man went away towards the stairway.
Signor Niccolo turned to me, and, after the usual salutation, he said
shortly but civilly, “I have had a car prepared like the other. As we
use them ourselves, you might find them awkward and even dangerous. I
have left the larger car for your friend.”
“Thank you,” I replied. “I daresay we shall both do very well.”
I was glad to know that Jack would have the opportunity that he wished
for, and I felt sure that he would make the most of it. I felt
confident now that we were on the verge of a desperate effort for
freedom. It was likely enough, indeed most likely, that the issue of
such an effort would be immediately fatal to us, but, if not
immediately fatal, then I thought that we might escape. Meanwhile I
was determined to observe as closely as possible every person and
thing that should come under my notice to-day.
There was no difference between this car and the other except in
respect of size. This one was a shade smaller. Also this one was
furnished with some instruments which I had not observed in the other.
There were two good field-glasses and a very powerful microscope.
There were also some instruments whose use I did not recognise, but
they seemed to suggest spectrum analysis. In addition to these there
were some glass instruments that looked like test tubes, and other
chemical apparatus of apparently simple construction, but quite
unfamiliar to me.
We got under way just as formerly, and we moved rapidly towards the
western end of the valley. I reckon that it was two miles, or perhaps
a little more, from the eastern to the western extremity. The valley
was bounded all round by hills. But I seemed to see to-day more than
ever before an air of artificial construction about these. From some
points of view this disappeared altogether, while from other points
the evidence of it was all but conclusive. I made sure sometimes that
I could detect the junction of a great embankment with the hills on
either side, but in each case after I had got another view I was not
quite so sure. Just the same impression, as I have told you, was
produced on me by the view of the hills when I first approached them
from the east; but the appearance or impression of artificial
construction was very much stronger now.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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