From somewhere in the distance came a series of dull thuds, one after another at regular intervals.
‘That’ll be the Navy dropping depth charges,’ Tim observed.
‘I can’t imagine that doing much good,’ Jocelyn said tartly. ‘It’d be better to use trawlers and fish them up. The fishing industry has done its best to wipe out all our stocks of cod and herring. Why don’t we turn them loose on jellyfish?’
Major Burton summoned them from the jeep and introduced them to the offiers in charge of the sector. One — a Captain McNeil — passed Jocelyn his field glasses and explained that the hillside which dropped away immediately ahead of them had already been cleared. Action was now concentrated on the village they could see tucked away in the valley.
‘Not too many jellyfish so far,’ he said crisply. ‘Quite thin on the ground on the hillside, though if you look where the road enters the village… Got it?’
‘Hundreds of them,’ Jocelyn exclaimed grimly. She offered Tim the field glasses. ‘It’s… Oh, I don’t know. We’ve just got to find a way.’
As Tim could see through the glasses, they lay across the roadway like a carpet, making the village seem bright and oddly enticing against the dullness of the day. They spilled over the pavement and into the churchyard where even the gravestones were gleaming unnaturally.
‘Hear you’ve had some casualties,’ the major was saying.
‘Bad business, that,’ Captain McNeil agreed. ‘Over there, where those trees are still burning. That ploughed field was clear, though they found a few in the ditches. We had hoped to spare that wood — well, it’s more of a copse, really — till we discovered them all congregated in there. A corporal was setting it alight when he got too close. They dropped on him from the branches. Stung him, probably. Anyway, he fell with the flame thrower still belching the stuff out. Five men injured.’
‘I want to go down there,’ Jocelyn announced.
‘We’re just about to launch the next assault, Dr Meadows. You’ll be a lot safer up here.’
‘I need to see them at close quarters,’ she insisted, her voice hardening. ‘I’ll not be in the way, but I do have a job to do.’
‘I’m sorry, I just don’t think — ’
‘Captain McNeil, in my laboratory I work with jellyfish all day and every day.’ Although her face was concealed behind the rubber mask, she was obviously in a cold fury. ‘I’ve not come here as a tourist.’
‘Conditions in your laboratory are probably a lot safer than in that village at the moment.’
She refused to listen. ‘Tell him, Tim.’
‘Earlier this week Dr Meadows’s sister was killed by jellyfish, and two others with her,’ Tim explained reluctantly, praying that the officers would stand their ground. He certainly had no wish to get any closer to the village. ‘An accident in the laboratory.’
‘Accident!’ she snorted. ‘Well, if the army won’t drive me down there, I’ll have to walk.’
Major Burton intervened. ‘Dr Meadows, please listen to reason, I beg you. There’s no telling what’s going to happen in the village. I must say I’m damned glad I’m not with that assault force. I’d rather go through the whole Falklands show again than do what they’ve got to do.’
‘Then I’ll go alone.’ She walked a few paces, then turned back. ‘We have to find some way of either killing the jellyfish or sending them back where they came from, without all this burning and destruction of other lives. As a scientist, that’s what concerns me. So I’ll go alone.’
Tim looked hesitantly towards the major as she resumed her walk. Then, as there was no sign from him, he knew he’d no alternative. He had to go after her. A few steps and he’d caught up with her.
‘I’m coming too,’ he said. ‘Christ, I’ve faced enough jellyfish already. A few more won’t harm. We’ve got these hoes — that’s something.’
A second later, they heard the sound of the ancient jeep behind them. Major Burton was standing beside the driver, holding on to the windscreen.
‘A damned sight quicker if you ride,’ he said with an ironic twist to his voice. ‘My orders are to take you to the front, so I imagine you’re in the right. And this road isn’t too pleasant to walk over, as you can see.’
They got into the back and the old buggy jerked forward over the scorched, broken tarmac. From this point onwards the hedges on both sides were blackened and leafless, in some spots still smouldering; over the roadway itself, charred, snapped-off branches lay amidst the drifting ash and the dark, moist remains of burned jellyfish.
Not only jellyfish, either. A hedgehog had died in the flames and was now on its back, stuck in the tar, its little legs pointing towards the sky; and a couple of birds had been caught, their feathers singed. They stared sightlessly at the buggy as it passed. Jocelyn tensed up when she saw them.
‘I hate this,’ Tim heard her mutter to herself. ‘There must be another way.’
At the foot of the hill they drew up at the roadside where a group of soldiers were setting up a machine gun on a metal tripod. In their protective gear their movements were clumsy, and one or two had taken off their gauntlet gloves. The sergeant — his stripes were pinned to the sleeve of his parka — approached and saluted.
‘Sergeant Parker, sir!’
Major Burton introduced them briefly, explaining the purpose of their visit. The sergeant smiled thinly behind his rubberised mask.
‘You’re just in time for the fireworks!’ he said. With a wave of his arm, he indicated the massing jellyfish some ten yards ahead, where the road went into a wide curve past the churchyard and into the deserted village. ‘Something odd about ’em, if you ask me. Other wild life disperses if you go out to hunt it: flies off or goes to ground. These buggers — if you’ll excuse the language — seem to group to meet us head-on. Still, we’ll cut ’em up a bit with Betsy here’ — he nodded towards the machine gun — ‘then give ’em a taste o’ the flame thrower.’
Down the road, three men with garden hoes were posted to ensure the line of jellyfish didn’t advance any farther. The sergeant recalled them, ordering everyone to keep to the rear of the gun.
‘It’s a standard L7A1 machine gun, as used by all NATO forces,’ the major explained to Tim. ‘Seven point six two millimetre calibre. Be interesting to see what effect it has on our slimy friends. Dr Meadows, I heard about the incident at your place. I’m very sorry about that. How did you get rid of the jellies afterwards?’
‘My husband and I had to do it,’ she said simply, her voice under iron control. ‘There was no one else. We sent for the police, of course, but we couldn’t expect them to take the risk, not when I was supposed to be the expert.’
‘But you didn’t burn them?’
She shook her head. ‘We used nitric acid — just a few drops on those we really needed to kill. It was not very pleasant, but all we had available. We saved a few, less than half. Managed to get them back in the tanks and secured the covers with wire.’
‘I’d have slaughtered the lot of them!’ the major told her uncompromisingly. ‘If they’d done that to my sister.’
‘Oh, I shall.’ She spoke quietly, yet venomously. ‘Have no doubt about that.’
‘Fire!’ came the sergeant’s sudden command.
The machine gun opened up, spitting out round after round in long, steady bursts. A stream of bullets chewed into the jellyfish, cutting them into fragments which were thrown a foot or two into the air, dropping back on to the road in a gleaming, squirming mess. However mangled they might be, dead they certainly were not.
‘Reload!’
Tim’s ears sang in the unexpected silence; his nostrils were irritated by the acrid smell of the firing. Then — some distance away — he heard other machine guns: a reminder, if he needed one, that this was a co-ordinated offensive against the invaders.