Tom sighed. ‘Let’s not make it too much like Gilbert and Sullivan…. What about a trial period for the dictatorship—says three days?’
‘That sounds reasonable,’ said Mary. ‘If we don’t like the way it works, we can try something else.’
Avery smiled. ‘That’s fine. The only point is that we don’t know how long a day is—by our standards.’
‘What do you mean?’ Mary was puzzled.
‘Depending on the rotation of the planet, it could be quite a bit longer than twenty-four hours or even less. We’ll have to time it.’
‘Since we’re playing games,’ said Tom drily, ‘you can be the leader of the expedition. I hope you brought your cereal packet complete with printed instructions.’
‘That’s settled, then,’ said Barbara. ‘Now we’re in business.’
‘One moment.’ Avery was by no means sure it was settled. ‘You’d better know what you are in for. I take on any responsibility, I expect you all to do what I ask you to do—and do it willingly. You may think I’m asking you to do the wrong thing. Then say so. But if I still say you do it, then it has to be done…. I’m sorry, but I don’t think that we can play it any other way at this stage. Is that understood?’
‘Sieg Heil!’ said Tom. Nevertheless, he seemed relieved.
Avery smiled. ‘The concentration camps will come later Now, here is the first edict: nobody is to go out of sight. Is that clear? The reason is obvious. We don’t know what dangers there are, so we expose ourselves to the minimum risk until we find out.’
Barbara said: ‘There are certain things that ladies— and gentlemen—have to do out of sight.’
‘Not any more, there aren’t,’ said Avery emphatically. ‘At least, not yet. We’ll get a latrine going as soon as possible. Meanwhile just find your own piece of sand and stay in view.’
Barbara grinned. ‘I’m afraid this little piggy can’t wait any longer. I’ll be back in a minute.’ She retreated about thirty yards, took off her slacks and knickers and calmly squatted on the sand.
The others pointedly ignored her; but they were conscious that the act itself—though trivial and entirely natural—had somehow demolished in a single moment all the accepted and sophisticated habits of civilization. It was oddly and incongruously symbolic.
When she came back, she said rather bravely: ‘That feels better, I must say.’
Tom looked shocked. So did Mary. Avery felt that the gesture needed to be underlined. There was no room for coyness now. They were going to have to live in close proximity and get used to it.
‘I could do with a good piss myself,’ he remarked deliberately. Then he, too, walked a few yards away. He unbuttoned his trousers and urinated vaguely towards the sea.
‘Well, now,’ said Tom brightly, when he returned to the group, ‘since we’re getting so broad-minded, how about a general sex orgy just to pass the time?’
‘There is no time left to pass,’ remarked Avery, unsmiling, ‘because everyone is about to go to work.’ He surveyed the Utter of camping equipment. ‘Priority number one—weapons. Let’s see what we can find in this jumble.’
‘Weapons?’ Mary seemed confused.
‘Yes, anything—knives, clubs—anything. We may just possibly have to defend ourselves at short notice. So we’ll need to have something handy. Later, no doubt, we can devise a few gadgets of our own.’
‘In my little box,’ said Tom, glancing at the pile of cabin trunks, ‘there is a thirty-eight revolver and fifty rounds.’ He seemed embarrassed. ‘Don’t know how it got there. I used to keep it in the flat.’
‘Excellent!’ said Avery. ‘Which is your box?’
‘Ah, that’s the question.’ Tom stared at the pile. All the trunks were identical. ‘It’ll be the bottom one, I expect…. Finagle’s Second Law.’
It was indeed the bottom one. The trunks were heavy, and it was all that Tom and Avery could do to lift them.
‘Just what is Finagle’s Second Law?’ asked Barbara, as Tom knelt down and rummaged for the revolver and ammunition.
He looked up at her and grinned. ‘Fingale’s Second Law states that if anything can go wrong in a given situation, it invariably will Ah, here’s the cannon.’ He handed it and the box of ammuntion to Avery.
Avery inspected the gun, broke open the box of ammunition and inserted six shells in the chamber. He snapped the chamber back into position. ‘Hang on to your hats. I’m going to test this thing.’ He fired out to sea. The report was flat, almost muffled, but it made everyone jump a little. ‘That’s O.K., then.’ He broke the chamber out, and replaced the round he had used. Then he gave the revolver back to Tom. ‘Hang on to this for the time being I’d be glad if you’d make a sort of preliminary reconnaissance, just around where we are. Don’t go out of sight or shouting distance. Take a look at the vegetation and see what you can make of it. Come back in about quarter of an hour.’
‘Aye-aye, skipper.’ Tom saluted ironically, and wandered off with the revolver held loosely in his hand.
Avery watched him saunter leisurely along the beach. He had a feeling that, sooner or later, there would probably be difficulties with Tom. But now was not the time to anticipate possible or imaginary problems. There were quite enough real ones to be going on with.
‘Look what I’ve found,’ said Mary. She had been delving into the camping gear and had unearthed a bundle of four sheathed knives and a couple of light hatchets. Each of the sheaths was attached to a leather belt.
Avery inspected them, then buckled one of the belts round his waist. ‘Daggers will be worn by everyone this season,’ he said. ‘It’s the latest fashion.’
Barbara grimaced. ‘Don’t you think we are carrying this security ploy a bit too far?’
‘Possibly. I’d rather be nervous and alive than nonchalant and dead…. If you ever have to use these things for other than carving steaks, try to hold the knife like this and strike upwards. You stand a better chance of penetrating.’
‘Lift up your hearts,’ observed Barbara solemnly. ‘What next?’
‘Camp One is next. I think we ought to make it fairly near to the trees, a bit beyond that line of driftwood. We’ll find somewhere better when we know a bit more about this place. How many tents are there?’
‘Four,’ said Mary. ‘They look as if they will be fairly big ones.’
‘Good. You two stay here and try to sort out the immediate things we’re going to need—cooking utensils, blankets, if any, and stuff like that—and I’ll just take a look at that piece of high ground.’ He gestured towards a small rise about fifty yards away. ‘If it looks all right, we’ll move all the stuff there when Tom gets back…. Where is he, by the way?’
They looked along die beach, but Tom was nowhere to be seen. They looked for about a minute, but there was only a set of footprints fading away towards the trees.
‘Idiot!’ said Avery irritably. ‘I told him to stay in sight.’
‘Ought we to look for him?’ asked Barbara.
‘No. At least, not yet.’
As if to comment upon Avery’s answer, there came the sound of a single shot—not apparently very far away. Mary and Barbara looked startled.
‘Damn!’ exploded Avery. He was worried. Not entirely irrelevantly he found himself thinking about what Tom had called Finagle’s Second Law. But the pessimism was unjustified.
Presently, Tom emerged from the trees and came towards them. He was carrying something. As he came closer, Avery saw that it was a six-legged ‘rabbit’ such as was illustrated in the set of plastic pictures. Tom seemed very pleased with himself.
‘Home is the hunter,’ he said, flinging the furry corpse at Barbara’s feet. ‘That should make the basis of a decent stew…. Shot from the hip at about ten paces. Not bad, eh?’
‘We now have forty-eight left,’ said Avery coldly.