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 could not see, for I had left the glass in the car; but I exchanged
a parting salute with my companion, walked slowly to the stair and
began to ascend it. Before beginning the ascent I had seen Jack
standing half way up the stair, looking towards me.
After a hearty grip of the hand we turned back and walked slowly
towards the pathway that we had taken on the second morning of our
stay here. We spoke almost in whispers. I gave Jack a brief account of
what I had seen. He said that it indicated something of which we could
hardly guess the whole import, but he agreed with me that such import
was probably as bad as it could be.
“We must try to escape,” he said, “as soon as possible. I know now
exactly how to work and steer the cars, and I know, too, how to lay my
hands on a second battery.”
“What do we want with a second battery?” said I.
“Well,” said he, “I don’t know what these batteries are made of; they
are of solid stuff, not fluid, and yet they all waste very quickly. I
doubt if any one of them will carry us as far as we may want to go;
indeed, I am not sure that any two of them will be enough.”
“But how are we to get away,” said I; “we are so closely watched?”
“I’ll tell you what I propose,” he said. “We shall not retire to-night
until an hour after dark, nor the next night, then we may hope that
they will take it as a matter of course that we shall not retire on
the third night until the same hour. But on the third night,
immediately after dark, we shall make a bolt of it, and so we may hope
for an hour’s start.”
“In the car?”
“Well, so I propose. I am aware that there is much to be said in
favour of an attempt to escape on foot. These lozenges of theirs are
meat and drink. We have had nothing else for several days, and we want
nothing else, and we know now how many of them we should require, and
it is certain that we could easily carry enough to last us three weeks
or more. And if we make a bee-line for the wire we ought to reach it
within three weeks or less. Besides, if we escape on foot they will
not know where to look for us. We shall have cover among the trees,
whereas in the air we shall have no cover.”
“Not even if we escape in an invisible car?”
“There is none of the cars invisible to them.”
“Ah! so I was beginning to think.”
“I am quite sure of it.”
“Well, go on.”
“Still, three weeks may not be enough. We may not be able to make a
bee-line. Probably we shall meet with some impassable scrub, or other
obstacle, and so our food may run out, and we may die miserably after
all. But if we escape in one of the cars the whole risk will be over,
and our fate will be decided one way or another within twenty-four
hours.”
“Very well,” said I, “we shall try it the night after next.”
Then I told him of my appointment next day with Signor Davelli.
He looked very grave. “That’s the biggest risk of all,” he said. “If
you give in to him we’re both done for.”
“I won’t give in to him.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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