The Kraken Wakes

'Oh, I do hate you. Sweet, sweet Diana, take me from this man!'

I got up and joined her at the window.

'See?' she said. ' "A ship, an isle, a sickle moon…" So fragile, so eternal… Isn't it lovely?'

We gazed out, across the empty Plaza, past the sleeping houses, over the silvered sea.

'I want it. It's one of the things I'm putting away to remember,' she said.

Faintly from behind the opposite houses, down by the waterfront, came the tinkling of a guitar.

'El amor tonto – y dulce,' she sighed. 'Why don't you see and hear what I see and hear, Mike? You don't, you know.'

'Mightn't it be a little dull for us if I did — both of us crying upon Diana, for instance? I have my own gods.'

She turned to look at me. 'I suppose you have. But they are rather obscure ones, aren't they?'

'You think so? I don't find them difficult. I'll quote Flecker back to you. "And some to Mecca turn to pray, and I toward thy bed, Yasmin."'

'Oh!' she said. 'Oh, Mike!'

And then, suddenly, the distant player dropped his guitar, with a clang.

Down by the waterfront a voice called out, unintelligible, but alarming. Then other voices. A woman screamed. We turned to look at the houses that screened the little harbour.

'Listen!' said Phyllis. 'Mike, do you think —?'

She broke off at the sound of a couple of shots.

'It must be! Mike, they must be coming!'

There was an increasing hubbub in the distance. In the Square itself windows were opening, people calling questions from one to another. A man ran out of a door, round the corner, and disappeared down the short street that led to the water. There was more shouting now, more screaming, too. Among it the crack of three or four more shots. I turned from the window and thumped on the wall which separated us from the next room.

'Hey, Ted!' I shouted. 'Turn up your lights! Down by the waterfront, man. Lights!'

I heard his faint okay. He must have been out of bed already, for almost as I turned back to the window the lights began to go on in batches.

There was nothing unusual to be seen except a dozen or more men pelting across the Square towards the harbour.

Quite abruptly the noise which had been rising in crescendo was cut off. Ted's door slammed. His boots thudded along the corridor past our room. Beyond the houses the yelling and screaming broke out again, louder than before, as if it had gained force from being briefly dammed.

'I must — ' I began, and then stopped when I found that Phyllis was no longer beside me.

I looked across the room, and saw her in the act of locking the door. I went over.

'I must go down there. I must see what's —'

'No!' she said.

She turned and planted her back firmly against the door. She looked rather like a severe angel barring a road, except that angels are assumed to wear respectable cotton night-dresses, not nylon.

'But, Phyl — it's the job. It's what we're here for.'

'I don't care. We wait a bit.'

She stood without moving, severe angel expression now modified by that of mutinous small girl. I held out my hand.

'Phyl. Please give me that key.'

'No!' she said, and flung it across the room, through the window. It clattered on the cobbles outside. I gazed after it in astonishment. That was not at all the kind of thing one associated with Phyllis. All over the now floodlit Square people were now hurriedly converging towards the street on the opposite side. I turned back.

'Phyl. Please get away from that door.'

She shook her head.

'Don't be a fool, Mike. You've got a job to do.'

That's just what I — '

'No, it isn't. Don't you see? The only reports we've had at all were from the people who didn't rush to find out what was happening. The ones who either hid, or ran away.'

I was angry with her, but not too angry for the sense of that to reach me and make me pause. She followed up: 'It's what Freddy said — the point of our coming at all is that we should be able to go back and tell them about it.'

'That's all very well, but —'

'Not Look there.' She nodded towards the window.

People were still converging upon the street that led to the waterside; but they were no longer going into it. A solid crowd was piling up at the entrance. Then, while I still looked, the previous scene started to go into reverse. The crowd backed, and began to break up at its edges. More men and women came out of the street, thrusting it back until it was dispersing all over the Square. '

I went closer to the window to watch. Phyllis left the door and came and stood beside me. Presently we spotted Ted, turret-lensed cine-camera in hand, hurrying back.

'What is it?' I called down.

'God knows. Can't get through. There's a panic up the street there. They all say it's coming this way, whatever it is. If it does, I'll get a shot from my window. Can't work this thing in that mob.' He glanced back, and then disappeared into the hotel doorway below us.

People were still pouring into the Square, and breaking into a run when they reached a point where there was room to run. There had been no further sound of shooting, but from time to time there would be another outbreak of shouts and screams somewhere at the hidden far end of the short street.

Among those headed back to the hotel came Dr Bocker himself, and the pilot, Johnny Tallton. Bocker stopped below, and shouted up. Heads popped out of various windows. He looked them over.

'Where's Alfred?' he asked.

No one seemed to know.

'If anyone sees him, call him inside,' Bocker instructed. 'The rest of you stay where you are. Observe what you can, but don't expose yourselves till we know more about it. Ted, keep all your lights on. Leslie —'

'Just on my way with the portable recorder, Doc,' said Leslie's voice.

'No, you're not. Sling the mike outside the window if you like, but keep under cover yourself. And that goes for everyone, for the present.'

'But, Doc, what is it? What's —'

'We don't know. So we keep inside until we find out why it makes people scream. Where the hell's Miss Flynn? Oh, you're there. Right. Keep watching, Miss Flynn.'

He turned to Johnny, and exchanged a few inaudible words with him. Johnny nodded, and made off round the back of the hotel. Bocker himself looked across the Square again, and then came in, shutting the door behind him.

Running, or at least hurrying, figures were still scattering over the Square in all directions, but no more were emerging from the street. Those who had reached the far side turned back to look, hovering close to doorways or alleys into which they could jump swiftly if necessary. Half a dozen men with guns or rifles laid themselves down on the cobbles, their weapons all aimed at the mouth of the street. Everything was much quieter now. Except for a few sounds of sobbing, a tense, expectant silence held the whole scene. And then, in the background, one became aware of a grinding, scraping noise; not loud, but continuous.

The door of a small house close to the church opened. The priest, in a long black robe, stepped out. A number of people nearby ran towards him, and then knelt round him. He stretched out both arms as though to encompass and guard them all.

The noise from the narrow street sounded like the heavy dragging of metal upon stone.

Three or four rifles fired suddenly, almost together. Our angle of view still stopped us from seeing what they fired at, but they let go a number of rounds each. Then the men jumped to their feet and ran further back, almost to the inland side of the Square. There they turned round, and reloaded.

From the street came a noise of cracking timbers and falling bricks and glass.

Then we had our first sight of a 'sea-tank'. A curve of dull, grey metal sliding into the Square, carrying away the lower corner of a housefront as it came.