‘Bloody hell, look at the fuckers!’ a soldier exclaimed, staring into the village as if hypnotised, the ammunition belt still in his hands.
Easing their way along the village road — so slowly, the movement was hardly noticeable at first — came a second wave of jellyfish.
‘Bringing up reinforcements,’ the sergeant pointed out grimly. ‘What did I tell you?’
The major turned to Jocelyn, clearly disturbed. ‘But surely that’s not possible, is it? It’d mean they were… well, intelligent.’
‘Group intelligence, yes. I’ve long suspected that.’ She borrowed some field glasses to take a closer look at them, fascinated by every move they made. ‘I don’t mean they think and talk as we do. That would require a much more complex nervous system. But a group instinct for survival, certainly.’
‘Intelligent? Let’s show the buggers who’s intelligent!’ the sergeant growled. ‘Stand by with that machine gun, and — Fire!’
The shots raked the upper section of the road along which the new wave approached. Again, after a minute or two, the individual shapes began to merge into one quivering mass of mutilated bits. The gunner then turned his attention to his original target, firing quick short bursts at anything which looked like a complete jellyfish.
‘Cease fire!’ the sergeant bawled. ‘OK — flame throwers! In you go!’
Three men with flame throwers advanced across the ten-yard strip towards the living remains of the jellyfish army. Backing them up, a second line of men went forward with hoes. The flames roared out of the nozzles, licking at the writhing segments of jellyfish. Within seconds the road surface was covered by a blackening, bubbling mixture like a devil’s pizza. From it arose a dense steam whose stench was unbearable.
Jocelyn went nearer, gripping her hoe. With a warning glance at the major, Tim followed her. But she made no attempt to interfere. She soon lost interest in the burning jellyfish on the road and turned her attention to the low wall running alongside the churchyard.
In two places they found large floppy jellyfish draped casually over the top, looking as though someone had put them there to be out of harm’s way. In each case, a couple of soldiers came along to deal with them, flicking their remains into the fire; in each case, also, the jellyfish tentacles shot out to seek their adversary and continued to curl and wriggle on the ground even after they had been cut off.
‘There may be some light sensitivity,’ Jocelyn observed suddenly. ‘An awareness of light and dark at any rate. I’ve run some experiments on that in the lab, though I still can’t be sure.’
On the other side of the churchyard wall the mass of jellyfish had withdrawn a few feet. They remained gathered around the graves as if waiting to discover the humans’ next move. Or as if, Tim suggested uneasily, they were obeying orders.
Jocelyn dismissed the idea out of hand. ‘More likely withdrawing from the heat. But how does the army aim to deal with that? They can hardly machine-gun the graveyard.’
On the far side of the little Norman church a group of six soldiers led by an officer came into sight moving cautiously between the older graves, scorching the high grass with quick bursts from their flame throwers. The flames veered around, threatening the church itself.
‘There’s your answer,’ Tim grunted.
In that moment, the largest jellyfish he had even seen appeared on the low wall, heaved itself over, and deliberately dropped down on their side. Major Burton staggered back as it fell against his leg, then settled across his foot. It must have been two yards across at least, Tim estimated, and it continued to ripple menacingly.
‘Wait!’ Jocelyn’s voice rang out as he was about to jab into it with his hoe. ‘I want to show you what it can do.’
‘Dr Meadows, I already know what it can do!’ the major snapped.
‘Just hold steady,’ she said calmly. ‘It can’t harm you so long as you don’t nick a hole in those waders. So don’t try stabbing at it. I’m going to transfer it to my own foot.’
‘You’re mad!’ Tim exclaimed.
‘Not totally,’ she replied, concentrating. She placed her foot next to the major’s; immediately, the tentacles began to reach out and explore. Then she poised the hoe above the far side of the jellyfish and brought it down sharply, slicing off some of the tentacles which were well away from her. The entire jellyfish shifted, covering its severed limbs. ‘Now isn’t that interesting? I’d have expected it to move away from danger, which would have brought it over here. But it’s responding aggressively, confronting the attack. What’s more, it doesn’t sense that I’m the enemy, nor where I’m standing.’
‘This is crazy!’ Tim protested.
‘It’s an interesting thought,’ she argued, defending herself. ‘If it’s true those in the churchyard drew back to avoid the fire, while this one here faced the attack, then that could mean they can distinguish between two different types of danger — fire and amputation, or whatever.’
‘In the churchyard they’re moving in this direction again,’ Tim observed. What she was saying did make some sort of sense. ‘They’re back up against the wall.’
‘Because the fire is now coming from a different side,’ she agreed.
The major was busy trying to prise the jellyfish away with his hoe. Coolly, Jocelyn helped him by slicing off sections of it, like trimming a pie.
Unlike pastry trimmings, these jellyfish segments continued to squirm on the ground, still alive and functional.
She scattered them across the road. Tim felt sick.
Then, from the churchyard came a shout as one of the soldiers slipped and fell. The jellyfish were on him immediately: broad glistening pink blobs sprawling across his legs and the lower part of his jacket.
‘They sense food,’ Jocelyn murmured, watching them with both hatred and fascination in her eyes.
Luckily, his companion had the presence of mind to pull him to his feet before even attempting to brush them off. Had they reached his face he’d be dead, as Tim remembered only too well.
‘Seen enough?’ the major demanded abruptly. He turned to Tim. ‘It’ll be your job to put all this across to the public, what these men have to go through. The sacrifices.’
As they went back up the road, a formation of three aircraft roared low overhead. Seconds later they heard a series of explosions and saw thick smoke and flames rising above the dark, wooded slopes of a hill some distance away. After the casualties earlier in the day they were obviously taking no more chances, Tim thought.
‘It’ll be like a desert — the whole area between here and the sea!’ Jocelyn pronounced gloomily as they trudged back up the road towards the buggy. ‘And you talk about madness!’
‘Tell me one thing, Dr Meadows,’ the major said crisply, changing the subject. ‘When you cut a jelly in half, won’t it join up again?’
‘No.’
‘Oh?’ He seemed disconcerted. ‘Someone told me it would.’
‘I tried it in the lab, but nothing happened. If you chop off a tentacle it’ll grow another one. And I rather suspect if you cut one in half you’d end up in time with two complete jellyfish, assuming favourable conditions. They’re quite primitive creatures — I mean, low down on the ladder of evolution. That gives them a flexibility which I’m afraid we humans don’t possess.’
‘That’s hardly reassuring.’
‘I didn’t mean it to be.’
Their driver came marching down the road to meet them, saluted, and delivered a message that Major Burton was requested to radio the command post. He excused himself and hurried off, leaving Tim and Jocelyn to wait at a discreet distance where they could not overhear what was going on.