Wendy n'est pas retournée à cette maison de Lambeth - pas depuis le jour où Harry disparut. Elle y retourna ce matin avec le bandage et l'antiseptic et, réalisant que Harry était parti, elle paniqua et fled. Il n'aurait pas pu sortir par ses propres moyens, pas dans l'état où il était, et quelqu'un devait donc l'avoir emmené.
A l'évidence il avait été débusqué par eux - ces hommes mystérieux dont il jurait qu'ils étaient déterminés à le tuer - et elle savait, au plus profond d'elle, qu'elle ne le reverrait jamais.
Elle devait partir. Loin. Elle devait se cacher. Ou ils pourraient la trouver et la tuer aussi. Une heure plus tard elle was thumbing a lift to Birmingham. Il n'y avait pas d'attirance particulière pour Birmingham. It just so happened that, that's where the lorry was going. Et cela semblait loin de London. Ils ne la trouveraient pas à Birmingham.
Cependant, elle n'avait pas pris de risques là. Elle continuait à être toujours en mouvement, restant rarement en un endroit plus d'une nuit ou deux, for she had un sentiment terrifiant que, d'une manière ou d'une autre, ils pourraient l'attraper juste comme ils avaient attrapé Harry. Egalement, comme elle nous le dit, se sentait coupable. Elle pensait qu'elle avait laissé tomber Harry. For she kept remembering that small box which he had considered so important, the one he had hidden under floorboards in the derelict house, et elle savait qu'elle aurait dû la retrouver. Elle avait tout oublié dans la flurry du départ mais Harry avait tellement voulu la donner aux gens de la télévision. Cela contenait la clé, lui avait-il dit, de quelque chose d'important... d'une bande réalisée par feu Ballantine. Elle sentait qu'elle devrait transmettre cette boîte à ce colored chap Benson. Elle devait le fait parce que Harry avait été bon avec elle et elle lui devait bien ça. Mais maintenant cela voulait dire retourner à la maison. Et elle dreaded stepping back into danger ...
Elle changea finalement d'avis le Jeudi 9 Juin. Elle prit un train pour Londres et voyagea en bus à travers la ville. Et vers 15 h 30 elle était au numéro 88 - marchant entre les posts où se trouvait à une époque la grille d'entrée.
Maintenant il n'y avait plus de saletés dans le jardin d'entrée et le boarding aux fenêtres avait été remplacé par des vitres. D'autres tentatives avaient été faites pour allèger et améliorer la maison terraced. Les escaliers au bout du chemin dégagé étaient fraîchement scrubbed et la porte, légèrement ajar, avait récemment été peinte en jaune canari brillant.
Toutes les maisons voisines étaient juste comme dans son souvenir mais le numéro 88 avait été complètement transformé. C'était un bâtiment qui avait été snatched back from decay.
A travers les fenêtres de la pièce de devant au rez-de-chaussée elle pouvait voir un groupe de jeunes - tous au terme de l'adolescence ou au début de leur vingt ans - qui s'agenouillaient silencieusement, avec leurs yeux fermés, en cercle.
Wendy hésita, anxieuse et déçue. Elle s'attendait à ce que la maison soit vide, juste comme elle était lorsque elle et Harry l'avaient d'abord trouvée en Février. She had anticipated merely walking in, of going quietly to the first- floor room where the floorboards were loose, of hurrying away, unseen, with the box. Now it couldn't be like that at all... The youngsters were still kneeling, trance-like, apparently lost in some communal meditation. They might not notice her, she thought, if she were stealthy enough and fast enough. But, on the other hand, there might be more of them in other rooms. There might be some in the room where Harry had hidden the box...
Elle tappa avec ses knuckles sur la porte - tentatively, at first, and then harder.
Footsteps approached across the bare boards of the hall. Then the door was opened wide by a tall and immensely scrawny man with long hair and an unkempt ginger beard. His feet were bare and he was wearing tattered blue jeans patched with bits of floral curtaining. His eyes - dark and deep-set and staring with fierce intensity - were oddly disconcerting and he was older than the people in the front room. In his mid- thirties, maybe, or even nudging forty.
Bonjour, ma soeur,
dit-il. Jésus vous aime.
Sa voix résonnait profondément et son accent rappelait
fortement l'Est de Londres.
Qui êtes-vous ?
demanda Wendy.
Eliphaz,
répondit-il solanellement. Eliphaz le Temanite.
Ecoutez... J'ai habité ici... il y a quelques mois je vivais ici et j'ai laissé quelque chose d'important
derrière...
La seule chose qui soit vraiment importante est Jésus. A-t-il pénétré ton cœur ? Il attend - attend que tu
l'invite dans...
Donc je me demandais si je pourrais juste rentrer et le récupérer...
L'homme fit un pas en arrière, lui faisant signe de le suivre, et Wendy remarqua pour la première fois qu'il tenait
une petite Bible. Ici est le Temple ou chacun est le bienvenu,
dit-il.
Cela pouvait-il être, se demanda Wendy, un piège ? Harry ne lui avait jamais dit à quoi ils ressemblaient. Ce personnage bizarre - cet Eliphaz ou quoi qu'il puisse s'appeler - pouvait-il être l'un d'entre eux ? Les questions fusaient dans son esprit. Est-ce que, si elle entrait à l'intérieur, disparaîtrait comme Harry ?
Elle eut une forte envie de prendre ses jambes à son coup, d'oublier tout. Pourquoi irait-elle plus loin dans le danger... ce n'était pas sa responsibilité...
Entrez... Jésus est ici,
dit l'homme d'un ton encourageant. Et vous avez besoin de Jésus.
Wendy jetta un œil aux jeunes qui étaient agenouillés en cercle silencieux. Qu'est-ce qu'ils font ici ?
demanda-t-elle. Tous autant que vous êtes... qui êtes-vous exactement ?
Nous sommes les Enfants de l'Amour Divin,
dit l'homme. Nous étions des pécheurs et nous vivions dans le
bondage de la chair mais Jésus Christ, the greatest revolutionary of them all, has entered our hearts and saved us
from sin.
Il ferma ses yeux, screwed up his face in apparent anguish, tint sa Bible haute. Merci, oh merci,
seigneur Jésus,
dit-il. Il ouvrit ses yeux, sourit, étendit une main en invitation.
Eliphaz...
dit Wendy. Est-ce votre véritable nom ?
C'est devenu mon nom quand je suis entré dans l'amour du Christ,
dit-il. Avant de trouver le Seigneur je
m'appelais Jack - Jack Perkins. Mais aujourd'hui je suis sauvé et l'ancien moi, le wicked moi, est parti pour
toujours...
Non, se décida-t-elle, il ne jouait pas. Personne ne pourrait jouer comme ça. Pas à moins d'être quelqu'un comme Michael Caine. This one just had to be a genuine Jesus freak ...
Cette chose dont j'ai parlé
, dit-elle. Je l'ai laissée en haut... sous les floorboards par sécurité...
You are more than welcome to come in,
dit l'homme. Here in the Temple we do not wish to keep things which
are the possessions of others.
Elle le suivit dans l'entrée et jusqu'en haut des escaliers. Et elle fut effarée de la transformation. L'endroit avait été nettoyé et les murs avaient été peints. Et l'ensemble du bâtiment avait une curieuse atmosphère de tranquillité.
Les trois portes de l'étage étaient ouvertes. Wendy désigna la pièce qui faisait face. C'est là
, dit-elle.
L'homme s'arrêta, mis une main sur son bras. J'ai oublié de vous demander votre nom.
Suspicion immédiate. Pourquoi avez-vous besoin de le savoir ?
Il sourit, balanca sa tête tristement. Il y a de la peur en vous, ma soeur. Vous devriez accepter le Seigneur et
Le laisser vous aider...
Pourquoi mon nom est-il important ?
persista Wendy.
Un autre sourire. Pour que je puisse vous présenter à mes frères,
dit-il. Ils espèreront que je vous
présente.
Wendy remarqua alors qu'il y avait deux jeunes hommes dans la pièce. Les deux, aurait-elle parié, avaient environ seize ans et tous deux était vêtus dans le même style que l'homme nommé Eliphaz. There was no furniture, not even the old sofa which had been there, and the two of them were seated on the bare boards. Ils étudiaient des Bibles, mouthing les mots silencieusement comme s'ils essayaient de les mémoriser.
Wendy
, dit-elle calmement. Mon nom est Wendy.
Both youngsters immediately looked up and scrambled to their feet. Ils souriaient largement et semblaient accueillants.
Voici Wendy,
dit Eliphaz.
He took Wendy's elbow, eased her firmly into the room.
"This here is Lazarus, one of our brothers from America," he said. "And our friend over here used to be called Arthur. But now he's filled with the Spirit and he's become Canaan. Canaan the Rechabite."
"Jesus loves you, Wendy," said Lazarus politely. "Praise the Lord!" He spoke with the warm and homely drawl of the Deep South. On the knuckles of his right hand was tattooed the word "love". A matching tattoo on his left knuckles said "hate".
"Yes, Jesus surely loves you," said Arthur who had become Canaan. Wendy could immediately identify his Birmingham origins.
They stared at her, now waiting for her to take the initiative, and their solemn sincerity made her feel oddly uncomfortable. "Thank you," she said. It sounded ridiculously inadequate and there was an awkward silence. She indicated the section of the floor where the sofa had been and turned to Eliphaz the Temanite. "It should be just there," she said. "Under the loose boards."
He nodded. "You need help?"
"No...no, thank you...I can manage."
They watched while she went down on her knees and started trying to praise up one of the boards.
"Wendy... do you know Jesus?" Lazarus put the question casually. He might almost have been asking about the weather.
"Sure." She has pre-occupied with her work and she did not look up. "Sure I know Him." The board was fixed more firmly than she'd expected.
"I mean really know Him." said Lazarus more vehemently. "There's a whole heap of dudes out there in the systemite world, in all them fine churches an' all, who reckon they know Jesus but they wouldn't even recognize Him if He stopped them in the street..."
The board was now rising from the floor. Wendy wormed her fingers under it and started to tug.
"I tell ya...He was an unwashed hairy hippy from the slums of Galilee...but, ya gotta believe me, that cat was for real," said Lazarus. "And he still is today..."
Loud creaks as the bit of wood bent and finally burst away from the retaining nails. Wendy peered down into the darkness, put a hand down to grope around. Nothing. She must have picked the wrong board. "...yes, He's here with us today...He's right here in this room...and, I tell ya, He's here with us today...He's right here in this room...and, I tell ya, He's a mind blower.
Maybe it was a bit nearer the window. Yes, now she came to think of it, the board had been just behind the sofa. She moved across, started again.
"He's the ultimate trip, Wendy...and you wanna get right there with Him because there ain't much time left..."
This board was much looser. She jiggled it a little to get a better grip and then lifted it.
"...it's all right here in the Bible...how the seven vials of the wrath of God will be poured over the nations..."
There it was! She snatched up the box, got to her feet. "Thank you," she said. "I'm sorry to have interrupted you."
Eliphaz, she now realized, had placed himself squarely between her and the door. His face was coldly resolute and his arms were folded across his chest. "That box is yours and whatever is in it is yours...but I have to ask you one question," he said. "Does it contain drugs?"
Suddenly he seemed bigger than before. Bigger and more powerful. And her old fears about them came flooding back. She had been a fool to return to this house...
Lazarus and Canaan the Rechabite seemed to be closing in on her, one on either side, and her stomach was churning with panic. "I've got to go now." She was struggling to control her voice, to stop it going all squeaky. "Please let me go." "It's all here in the Book of Revelation." Lazarus appeared to be unaware of what was happening in the room. He was preoccupied entirely with his own thoughts, with his convictions about the imminent End of Time. "Listen to this... the Bible gives facts and details... it don't mess about..." and the fourth angel poured out his vial upon the sun...and power was given unto him to scorch men with fire..." "
Eliphaz held out his hand. "Give the box to me," and blasphemed the name of God..."
Non !
cria-t-elle. "It's nothing like that!"
He stood aside to let her pass. "Please forgive me for being suspicious." Now his manner was contritely apologetic. "We would have taken them if they had been drugs. We would have taken them and destroyed them. You have to realize that many of our brothers and sisters here were damaged by drugs...in their days of fleshly bondage."
Alors vous me laissez partir ?
Bien sûr - mais s'il-vous-plait revenez nous voir à nouveau,
dit Eliphaz. "All God's children are welcome here
in the Temple."
"Let Jesus into your heart, Wendy," said Lazarus as she walked to the landing. "He loves
you real good."
"Hallelujah!" added Canaan the Birmingham Rechabite.
Eliphaz escorted her to the front door. Don't forget, sister, that you do need Jesus,
he said. God be with
you.
She ran from the house, along the street around a corner to a telephone box. She dialed the number for Sceptre
Television. Pourrais-je parler s'il-vous-plait à Colin Benson ?
Ne quittez pas,
dit l'opératrice. Je vous met en relation...
Terry Dickson had prepared a background-information sheet about Mars for Clements so that some of the details could be fed into the program's links. It said: Mars has a diameter about half that of Earth and is officially classified, together with Mercury and Venus, as one of the inferior planets in our sun's family of planets.
It is our nearest neighbor among the planets - being 12.6 light minutes away from the sun, compared with our 8.3 light minutes. You will see this in perspective when I point out that Neptune and Pluto are 250 and 327 light minutes from the sun respectively.
The principal significance of this is that Neptune and Pluto, together with the other giant planets, Saturn and Uranus, would be far too cold to support life as we understand it.
Conversely, Mercury and Venus - 3.2 and 6 light minutes from the sun respectively - would be too hot.
Mars is appreciably cooler than Earth, of course, but scientists have long been agreed that temperatures there could be endured by man: the problems, while serious, should not prove insurmountable.
The actual distance between Earth and Mars varies considerably - being anything from 35 million miles to 60 million miles. This is because Earth moves in an almost circular orbit while the orbit of Mars is much more eccentric.
The predominant red color which has given Mars its popular name comes from regions very similar to many of the deserts known on Earth. Like, or instance, the Painted Desert of Arizona.
Green patches which vary in size and shape from season to season are believed to be caused by the growth of plants similar to rock lichens. I am advised that lichens can survive at lower temperatures than most terrestrial plants and require very little moisture. However, pioneering work in the deserts of the Middle East has proved that more valuable crops can be grown if a region is properly irrigated and tended. That could apply equally well to the desert regions of Mars so making it possible, at least in theory, for man to become self-supporting there.
There is no shortage of water or potential water. It has been known for thirty years, as a result of work done at Yerkes Observatory near Chicago, that the polar caps of Mars are composed of snow. This snow could be converted into water which could then be channeled as required.
The one question which has apparently still not been satisfactorily resolved is that of atmosphere.
Does Mars have air which we could breathe? The answer, quite frankly, is that no-one really seems to know. I've now spoken to a number of scientists who are confident that appreciable quantities of free oxygen probably did exist there at one time. It may well be that, as Gerstein has suggested, life supporting atmosphere has been locked in the surface soil but I have been unable to find any other expert who is prepared to publicly endorse that suggestion.
Obviously the whole question of the possible colonization of Mars, the central question you asked me to investigate, depends on the certainty that the planet has an atmosphere similar to Earth's. There appears to be no such certainty. Gerstein is being decried by most of his contemporaries in Britain and abroad and, without wishing to be rude about the man, I wouldn't fancy sticking my neck out professionally on his say-so.
In short, Chris, it's a fascinating theory but it doesn't quite add up.
Clements read the last few paragraphs through for the second time and snorted impatiently. "Well, Terry love, it's my neck that'll be sticking out - not your," he said. "Gerstein's got me convinced and I'm prepared to gamble on him."
But he didn't need to gamble, not as it turned out. For, at that moment, Wendy was waiting to talk to Colin Benson...
Memo dated June 13, 1977, from Leonard Harman to Mr. Fergus Godwin, Controller of Programs:
I have returned to the studios today after a week's sick leave and I am astonished to learn that it is apparently your intention to allow the screening of that interview with the former astronaut Grodin.
We have already discussed at length the unethical circumstances under which the interview was conducted and which resulted in Grodin expressing extravagant views. We agreed, I thought, that Grodin's statements could not possibly be substantiated and that, if dignified by being included in a program purporting to be serious, they could do considerable harm.
The whole of this particular Science Report program, as I have told you on numerous occasions, is a blatant example of irresponsible sensationalism which will reflect adversely on the company's image.
Are companies in the rest of the ITV network and those abroad aware of the troublesome and, indeed, unsavory background to this production? I can only assume not for, otherwise, I am certain they would not be prepared to buy it.
Once again, I urge you most strongly to withdraw this program from the schedules.
Memo dated June 14, 1977, from Fergus Godwin to Leonard Harman:
I can no longer agree with you over the remarkable "brain-drain" investigation which has been mounted by Clements and his team.
I grant that it is highly controversial and even frightening. It will also cause embarrassment in certain high places.
However, I have assessed the evidence which is now in the program - the product, I might add, of diligent research and impressive dedication - and I feel we would be failing in our public duty if we were to suppress what appears to be the unpalatable truth.
Since we last spoke I have had the opportunity of studying Simon Butler's interview with Dr. Gerstein. Gerstein is a man for whom I have the greatest respect and no-one of his stature would lend his name to anything which, in your words, savored of "irresponsible sensationalism".
Three have been times, as you know, when I have been perturbed by the unexpected directions in which this investigation has moved. I now feel able to set all my reservations aside. Clements has my unqualified support.
I do not propose to reply in more detail to your query relating to networking and overseas sales for I consider that
to be irrelevant in light of my present feelings.
Memo dated June 15, 1977, from Leonard Harman to Mr. Anthony
Derwent-Smith, Managing Director.
You are already aware of my severe misgivings in relation to the Science Report program, scheduled for network transmission on June 20, in which it is suggested that there is an international conspiracy to transport intellectuals and others to life on another planet.
I have made my opinions known on many occasions and I commend your attention, in particular, to the minutes of the Senior Executives' Meeting held on April 8. I warned then against what I recognized as a policy of expensive folly.
I am taking the unusual step of enclosing herewith copies of all correspondence between the Controller of Programs and myself on the subject for I feel that, in view of the damage this production could do to the reputation of the company, this is a matter in which you might see fit to intervene.
I cannot urge too strongly that under no circumstances should this program be screened.
Memo dated June 15, 1977, from Anthony Derwent-Smith to Fergus Godwin:
See the attached note and pile of bumph which reached me by hand today from Mr. Harman.
It is not my practice to become entangled in differences of opinion between my Controller of Programs and any of his subordinates - particularly when I am approached in what I consider to be an underhand manner, with no copy of the note having apparently been sent to you. Nor did I intend to start intervening on this aspect of program policy which I consider to be entirely your territory. Please deal.
Godwin re-read the note and the one sent to Derwent- Smith by Harman.."Cheeky bastard!" he said. He dialed on his internal telephone. "Harman...be in my office within two minutes. I'm going to mark your bloody card!"
Katherine White took the call in the Science Report office. "No...Colin Benson's popped out for a coffee...who's this calling, please"
"I must speak to him quickly," said Wendy. "It's urgent."
"Can I take a message? Ask him to call you back?" All Wendy wanted now was to get rid of the box. She anxiously
scanned the faces of people loitering near the telephone box. Every wasted minute, she felt, put her in greater
danger. If only she knew what they looked like..."Could you find him? It is desperately important."
"I'll see if I
can catch him in the canteen. Can I give him a name?"
"Tell him it's the girl who was with Harry," said Wendy. "Tell him I've got what Harry wanted to give him."
"Hold
on..."
"Look...I'm in a pay-box and I'm right out of change..."
""Give me the number of the box and then replace the
receiver," said Kate. "I'll call you right back."
Wendy obeyed. She waited, her back to the door of the booth. And she was unaware of the man until he jerked the door open. He looked angry and beefily pugnacious. She gave a small scream, cowering away from him. He glowered at her with distaste. "You planning on spending the day in here?"
"I won't be more than a minute...I'm waiting for a call."
"Yeah?" He grabbed her arm, started to pull her. "Well, I'm waiting to make one. So come on...out of it." ...Please, this won't take long, really..."
"Lady, this is a public box and I'm not hanging around all day while..."
"At that moment the bell rang. Wendy shook away the man's hand, snatched up the receiver, heard Benson's voice."Yes, that's right...I was the girl with Harry," she said. The man muttered aggressively, stepped out of the box and positioned himself immediately outside. Wendy spoke quietly, convinced that the man was trying to eavesdrop. "I must meet you," she said. "Harry had something he wanted to give you and now I've got it. But I've got to be careful in case they are looking for me..."
They met an hour later at the spot where Benson had first seen Harry Carmell - outside the fruiterer's in the street market near the studios.
"You said they might be looking for you," said Benson. "Who are they?"
Wendy shrugged, pulled a face. "Who knows?" she said. "Goons, heavies ... Russians, Americans, Germans, Outer Bloody Mongolians ... what difference does it make?" She discreetly gave him the box. "That's what Harry wanted you to have - he said something about it helping you see what was on some tape made by Ballantine. That make sense to you?"
"Not much," said Benson. "Wait here ... I'll have a shufti inside the box." He hurried to the nearby men's lavatory, locked himself in a cubicle and opened the box. It contained a square printed circuit and he gave a low whistle of surprise. "Well, I'll be..."He put it back in the box, re-joined Wendy.
"I've just remembered," she said. "Harry said you fit it to an IC40 of something and then you get a juke-box. Does that mean anything to you?"
"I must get back to the studios right away," said Benson. "See what sort of tune we can get out of the juke- box."
"You don't need me any more?"
"Where'll you be?"
"Not sure - but not in London. There's too much heat in London."
Benson tapped the box. "Surely you'll want to know what all this adds up to...where can I contact you?"
"I'll contact you," she said. And, as Harry Carmell had done months earlier, she hurried away and disappeared in the crowds.
Technicians at the studios had never before been presented with such a problem. They puzzled and experimented for the best part of an hour before finally getting it right. And then, in the darkness of the preview theater, Clements and Benson watched in amazement as the pictures suddenly started spilling across the large screen.
"I don't believe it! said Clements. "Good God...I simply don't believe it!