James said, “Well, first of all I hauled Ling in and we questioned him the best part of the night. He didn’t say a word and we couldn’t get anything on him, but I knew he wasn’t telling the truth. Likewise your bloke Markham from the ship — he’s been arrested, but he doesn’t know anything, or says he doesn’t. Then word came through that a car with a Chinese driver had been breaking speed records down this way, so I guessed I’d been right about Wilson’s Prom. Well, we flew out then, but we had to force-land not far north of here. We came on by road, fast, and when we got near the Prom area we saw a car pulled into some scrub. This bloke was in it.” He nodded towards the Chinese driver. “We did a little persuading, you know what I mean, and then we found the boathouse and just put two and two together, and when we looked around, well, we found another boat. This one.”
“What about the men you were going to send down here?”
James said, “I sent ’em all right, earlier on, but I’d put ’em farther south — down by South-West Point. They won’t have seen a thing.”
Shaw rubbed at his aching eyes. “Did Ling say anything about the New South Wales?"
“I told you, he didn’t say anything, but it didn’t take much brain to work that out. Have you—”
Shaw broke in, “The transmission failed and I’ve smashed the set. That’s all finished now.” James let out a long, deep sigh, grasped Shaw’s shoulder hard. Shaw went on, “But there’s something else. If Ling didn’t say anything, then we’re the only ones left who know — apart from a man called Siggings aboard the ship, if he’s still there…"
Shaw’s giddiness caught him again and he stopped. James bent forward anxiously, asked: “Know what?”
“That… the liner’s due to blow up in the harbour— somewhere inward of the Heads, at one o’clock to-morrow afternoon.” Shaw had broken out in a light sweat now. “There’s more than three thousand people aboard her, women and children included… and if her reactor goes, well, so does a whole lot of Sydney.”
James stared at him, went very pale. He said softly, “Well, for God’s sake.”
“How soon can we get in touch with Sydney, or the ship?”
James swore. “That’s just the flaming trouble. Far as I know, we can’t.”
“Can’t?”
“Not yet, anyway. All the telephones are down for miles around. There’s trees blocking most of the roads — had a job getting here ourselves, had to use a lot of cross-country tracks, and since we got through it’s worsened. Floods, for one thing. We’re kind of cut right off from the nearest town with any radio communication.”
Shaw’s face went hard. He said, “Don’t you understand, sir? There’s a nuclear explosion heading up for Sydney at twenty-six knots. We’ve just got to get through, that’s all!”
“But in God’s name — howl”
Shaw raised his hands, let them drop. “I’m damned if I know and that’s the truth. We’ll just have to get back to the car and drive until we find a telephone or a telegraph office that works. And we haven’t a lot of time.”
They were ashore soon after that and making up for James’s car, Shaw being helped along by two of the naval ratings. Getting in, they headed for the road into Fish Creek, with Tien’s car and driver behind them under guard of one of James’s party. They could hear the thunder of the sea, and the whistle of the wind past the car. They started to come into the beginnings of flooded country, and that took off some of their speed, soon reduced them to little more than a crawl through deepening water, a crawl which Shaw found one of the most painfully frustrating experiences of his life.
Looking out at the water, James said: “We shan’t be able to come back this way again, even if we want to.”
They drove into the small township of Nurralee and made for the police station.
They found the constable in his shirt sleeves drinking a quick cup of tea in a warm room, snatching a moment between spells of duty in connexion with the mess made by the floods and the gale. James’s first words, to say nothing of Shaw’s appearance, snapped him right out of that brief rest period. After that, James gave him the full story. But when the naval man had finished, Bob Peters, the constable, stuck his thumbs into his braces and shook his head ponderously.
He said, “You won’t get any messages out of Nurralee, not for a while yet, Captain. All the telegraph wires are down and we’re flooded right up from here inland — all the roads ’cep’ the one down to the Prom, they’re impassable, and you say that’s flooding now.” He frowned. “I hate to say it, but I reckon you’ll have to stay around a while.”
“We can’t do that.” James paced the room. “How long d’you think it’ll be?”
Peters shrugged. “Dunno. Could be a good few days, maybe longer.”
James snapped, “That’s a fat lot of good! Look, we’ve got to get word through — or get there ourselves. Don’t you see the urgency?”
“Course I do, but I’m only the constable. Urgent or not, makes no difference. It’s just not possible and that’s all about it. Most of this corner of Gippsland, it’s cut right off.”
Shaw asked, “Isn’t there any wireless station?”
The constable shook his head. “The position’s just like I said. If I could help, I would, you know that.” He looked up suddenly, smacked a fist into his palm. He said, “There’s just one way. Go by sea.”
“By sea!.." James gave a snort. “You seen what it’s like, out there?”
“I only made the suggestion, that’s all—” Peters broke off as his wife came in. He nodded towards Shaw, said: “Look, the wife, she’ll fix him up.” Shaw was shivering even though he was standing in front of a fire. Mrs Peters, clicking her tongue in concern as she saw his torn face, took charge of Shaw and said something about a nice hot bath and some food. Shaw was grateful; he was feeling hot and cold by turns now, weak and feverish. He knew he had to keep going for some time yet, and he was determined not to give in. The sensible thing to do would be to let Mrs Peters have her way and meanwhile leave things to James, though he didn’t see what the Australian could achieve. Facts were facts, and the constable must be given the credit for knowing his own territory… but there had to be some way…
His mind was busy while he bathed and got dressed again quickly, but it was no good. They would never be able to get a car through the floods, that was certain. When he’d finished dressing and had had another tot of rum, he came back into the room and found James and Bob Peters still talking about the possibility of making Sydney by sea.
James looked round as Shaw came in. He said, “Look, constable here’s been telling me, there’s a boat down in Barralong Cove, that’s way to the south of Foster Beach, if we can make it.”
“That’s right,” Peters said. “Belongs to a man in Bendigo,
Peters shook his head. “She had, an’ I thought of that before but it went crook on ’er, last time the boat was taken out. Stripped right down now, she is.”