“You can tell him that wipes out any bard feelings about him,” said Josella.

“He’s going to be a very useful man,” Ivan said. “And from what he tells us, you could be too,” he added, looking at me. “You’re a biochemist, aren’t you?”

“A biologist,” I said.

“Well, you can hold onto your fine distinctions. The point is, Michael has tried to get some research going into a method of knocking off triffids scientifically. That has to be found if we are going to get anywhere at all. But the trouble so far is that the only people we have to work on it are a few who have forgotten most of the biology they learned at school. What do you think—like to turn professor? It’d be a worth-while job.”

“I can’t think of one that would be more worth while,” I told him.

“Does this mean you’re inviting us all to your island haven?” Dennis asked.

“Well, to come on mutual approval, at least,” Ivan replied. “Bill and Josella will probably remember the broad principles laid down that night at the university. They still stand. We aren’t out to reconstruct—we want to build something new and better. Some people don’t take to that. If they don’t they’re no use to us. We just aren’t interested in having an opposition party that’s trying to perpetuate a lot of the old bad features. We’d rather people who want that went elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere sounds a pretty poor offer, in the circumstances,” remarked Dennis.

“Oh, I don’t mean we throw them back to the triffids. But there were a number of them, and there had to he some place for them to go, so a party went across to the Channel Isles and started cleaning up there on the same lines as we’d cleaned up the Isle of Wight. About a hundred of them moved over. They’re doing all right there.

“So now we have this mutual-approval system. Newcomers spend six months with us, then there’s a Council hearing. If they don’t like our ways, they say so; and if we don’t think they’ll fit, we say so. If they fit, they stay; if not, we see that they get to the Channel Isles—or back to the mainland, if they’re odd enough to prefer that.”

“Sounds to have a touch of the dictatorial. How’s this Council of yours formed?” Dennis wanted to know.

Ivan shook his head.

“It’d take too long to go into constitutional questions now. The best way to learn about us is to come and find out. If you like us, you’ll stay—but even if you don’t, I think you’ll find the Channel Isles a better spot than this is likely to be a few years from now.”

In the evening, after Ivan had taken off and vanished away to the southwest, I went and sat on my favorite bench in a corner of the garden.

I looked across the valley, remembering the well-drained and tended meadows that had been there. Now it was far on its way back to the wild. The neglected fields were dotted with thickets, beds of reeds, and stagnant pools. The bigger trees were slowly drowning in the sodden soil.

I thought of Coker and his talk of the leader, the teacher, and the doctor—and of all the work that would be needed to support us on our few acres. Of how it would affect each of us if we had been imprisoned here. Of the three blind ones, still feeling useless and frustrated as they grew older. Of Susan, who should have the chance of a husband and babies. Of David, and Mary’s little girl, and any other children there might be who would have to become laborers as soon as they were strong enough. Of Josella and myself having to work still harder as we became older, because there would be more to feed and more work that must be done by hand…

Then there were the triffids patiently waiting. I could see hundreds of them in a dark green hedge beyond the fence. There must be research—some natural enemy, some poison, a debalancer of some kind, something must be found to deal with them; there must be relief from other work for that—and soon. Time was on the triffids’ side. They had only to go on waiting while we used up our resources. First no more fuel, then no more wire to mend the fences… And they, or their descendants, would still be waiting there when the wire rusted through……

And yet Shirning had become our home. I sighed.

There was a light step on the grass. Josella came and sat down beside me. I put an arm round her shoulders.

“What do they think about it?” I asked her.

“They ‘re badly upset, poor things. It must be hard for them to understand how the triffids wait like that when they can’t see them. And then they can find their way about here, you see. It must. be dreadful to have to contemplate going to an entirely strange place when you’re blind. They only know what we tell them. I don’t think they properly understand how impossible it will become here. If it weren’t for the children, I believe they’d say ‘No,’ flatly. It’s their place, you see, all they have left. They feel that very much.” She paused, then she added: “They think that—but, of course, it’s not really their place at all; it’s ours, isn’t it? We’ve worked hard for it” She put her hand on mine. “You’ve made it and kept it for us, Bill. What do you think? Shall we stay a year or two longer?”

“No,” I said. “I worked because everything seemed to depend on inc. Now it seems—rather futile.”

“Oh, darling, don’t! A knight-errant isn’t futile. You’ve fought for all of us, and kept the dragons away.”

“It’s mostly the children,” I said. “Yes—the children,” she agreed.

“And all the time, you know, I’ve been haunted by Coker

—the first generation, laborers; the next, savages I think we had better admit defeat before it comes, and go now.”

She pressed my hand.

“Not defeat, am dear, just a—what’s the phrase?—a strategic withdrawal. We withdraw to work and plan for the day when we can come back. One day we will. You’ll show us how to wipe out every one of these foul triffids and get our land back from them for us.”

“You’ve a lot of faith, darling.” “And why not?” ‘Well, at least I’ll be fighting them. But first, we go—when?’ “DO you think we could let them have the summer out here? It could be a sort of holiday for all of us—with no preparations to make for the winter. We deserve a holiday, too.”

“I should think we could do that,” I agreed. We sat, watching the valley dissolve in the dusk. Josella said:

“It’s queer, Bill. Now I can go, I don’t really want to. Sometimes it’s seemed like prison—but now it seems like treachery to leave it. You see, I—I’ve been happier here than ever in my life before, in spite of everything.”

“As for me, my sweet, I wasn’t even alive before. But we’ll have better times yet—I promise you.”

“It’s silly, but I shall cry when we do go. I shall cry buckets. You mustn’t mind,” she said.

But, as things fell out, we were all of us much too busy to cry…

XVII. Strategic Withdrawal

There was, as Josella bad implied, no need for hurry. While we saw the summer out at Sliming, I could prospect a new borne for us on the island and make several journeys there to transport the most useful part of the stores and gear that we had collected. But, meanwhile, the woodpile had been destroyed. We needed no more fuel than would keep the kitchen going for a few weeks, but that we had to have, so the next morning Susan and I set off to fetch coal.

The half-tack wasn’t suitable for that job, so we took a four-wheel-drive tuck. Although the nearest rail coal depot was only ten miles away, the roundabout route, due to the blockage of some roads and the bad condition of others, meant that it took us nearly the whole day. There were no major mishaps, but it was drawing on to evening when we returned.

As we turned the last corner of the lane, with the triffids sla8hing at the truck as indefatigably as ever from the banks, we stared in astonishment. Beyond our gate, parked in our yard, stood a monstrous-looking vehicle. The sight so dumfounded us that we sat gaping at it for same moments before Susan put on her helmet and gloves and climbed down to open the gate.