Only one coherent thought filled her mind during the slow-passing hours. She hadn’t reached the decision consciously, but rather by an instinctive leap.
She was not going to stay and endure Jasper’s revenge, whatever form it took. If he caught up with her and tried to attack her physically-which she thought unlikely, for he had always seemed a coward-she would use her knife on him this time. But in the more probable case that he resorted to some subtler and crueller indirect attack, she was going to leave the Station as her father had: walk away into the desert and take her chance of dying of thirst or hunger.
There was no one to whom she could turn. If even Grandfather thought she was slandering Jasper to get out of living with him, she might as well be dead already.
And there was nothing she could do to forestall Jasper, either. How he would go about getting even with her she could not guess, but the most likely way was simply by a series of petty persecutions kept up over months, becoming intolerable as they accumulated. If the community had liked her family, such a plan would not have worked, but Grandfather had been overbearing and domineering for years, and while everyone had to respect his vast knowledge nobody actually liked him. And this reaction extended now to include herself.
By late afternoon she was immensely thirsty. Wondering if she could get to water without anyone seeing her, she peered out of her refuge. A group of weary searchers returning from their hunt around the Station was passing, heading southwards around the dome. She ducked back out of sight, but not before she had recognised Jasper among them. He was too far distant for her to see his expression, but a mere glimpse of him was enough to make her tremble again.
She was glad he hadn’t been looking in her direction. In a little while now Grandfather would be calling for her-it was after all her night to keep watch in the office; that hadn’t changed. But people would hardly take to the idea of being sent out to hunt for her in the dark.
And there were footsteps close by.
She froze, wondering what she would do if she was discovered by chance; the possibility had scarcely crossed her mind. But whoever the footsteps belonged to wasn’t looking for anybody. The angle of the sound changed constantly, approaching the side of the dome, then entering it and continuing, blurred now, inside.
It couldn’t be Jasper. Could it?
Yet who else would venture so confidently into the Station from this side with darkness near?
With extreme caution Nestamay craned past a large rusty machine at the back of her own hiding-place and tried to confirm her suspicion. But it was useless; in the long-shadowed evening gloom under the dome all details blended.
Then the footsteps were returning, and she ducked again. Straining her ears, she heard a muttered sentence.
“That’ll fix the bitch!”
Beyond any doubt, that was Jasper. She let her hand fall to the handle of her hatchet. Where was he going now? Out of the dome to rejoin the returning search party, or straight to the north, back to the clustered hovels?
North, and without a pause. She saw his shadow stride past a few seconds later and heard him begin to hum, apparently very pleased with himself. What could he have done to “fix” her? Rigged a trap of some kind, perhaps? Nestamay frowned intently, attempting to turn familiar routes within the dome back to front, so as to determine whether Jasper had been able to reach any of the mazy paths up to the office in the short time he had spent inside. She failed to decide; it was a problem she had never tackled before, relating this unfrequented side of the Station to the safe paths within it. The answer, however, came of its own accord, and only minutes later.
It took the form of a tremendous crash, followed by grinding and tearing noises. Nestamay leapt to her feet. Was that the result of Jasper’s visit-the springing of some sort of deadfall trap aimed at her, but operated by someone else or of its own accord?
The idea had barely framed itself in her mind before she realised it was false. For the grinding and tearing noises continued, and a fresh sound joined them: an animal bellowing.
That left only one explanation. A thinghad just hatched inside the dome-and as the alarm hadn’t sounded to signal the random operation of the mysterious process responsible, that meant Jasper must have disconnected it!
Everything else driven out of her mind, Nestamay broke from her hiding-place and raced in search of someone-anyone-to warn. It didn’t matter now about escaping into the desert, or avoiding Jasper. He had done something completely unforgivable, thinking perhaps that the odds were against a thingappearing in the short time before Nestamay was due to begin her watch and hoping that she might find herself trapped inside the Station with an unsignalled monster.
Surely even Grandfather couldn’t stomach a crime like this!
Panting, she came in earshot of the returned search party gathering at the south side of the dome. She shrieked at them as loudly as she could.
“There’s a thingjust hatched! Big-inside the dome still!”
Keefe, at the centre of the group listening to reports of the day’s search, turned his one eye on her in amazement.
“There’s been no alarm!” he snapped.
“It’s not working!” Nestamay gasped. “Jasper turned it off.”
“What?” An incredulous chorus greeted the assertion. “But that isn’t possible!”
“Well, maybe he broke it!” Nestamay snapped. “But the thingis there and the alarm didn’t work and Jasper was in the dome a short while ago. Get around and spread the word!”
She took to her heels again, heading north in search of Grandfather.
But long before she located him, the thingin the dome had proved its existence beyond doubt. It was the most monstrous to be spawned by the incomprehensible forces of the Station in living memory. Fully twenty feet tall, it was recognisable as animal only because it moved and roared; that apart, it was a confused tangle of long grasping tentacles set so thickly on its body it was impossible to see its underlying shape. It was immensely strong, too. From its point of origin in the zone of the dome made inaccessible by the tangled alien vegetation it had headed straight for the exterior, breaking or throwing aside whatever was in its way. By the time Nestamay saw it, it was already out in the open, and a huge sagging gash in the dome wall marked its point of emergence. Even if they had had the alarm to warn them, there would have been no question of herding this into one of the dome’s exit channels and tormenting it with the electrofence-it was simply too big!
Frantically men came running from all directions, some carrying heatbeams, some with hatchets or other makeshift weapons, only to stop irresolutely on seeing how vast this thingreally was. Towering over them, it seemed that not even a heatbeam on full power could possibly do more than madden it.
A frightened man swung around and saw Grandfather approaching behind Nestamay. In a scream like a child’s, he demanded to be told what to do. Grandfather, taking in the size of the monster, paled, and Nestamay felt a pang of spiteful amusement.
“Heatbeams!” Grandfather shouted at last, and Keefe caught the order. He had already anticipated it; he was manhandling one of the bulky projectors with its trailing umbilical cord of insulated cable. Now he supplemented it.
“Get between it and the dome! Drive it away!” he yelled.
Grim-faced, men moved to obey. Down came a lashing tentacle, sweeping clear an area twenty feet in radius, and caught at the cord of one of the heatbeams. It snapped like thread. The man bearing the useless weapon shouted and tried to run; he stumbled. The tentacle cracked across his back like a whip, and he lay still.
“Don’t stand looking-do something!” Grandfather bellowed.