Chocky

  ‘Well, thank God for your lack of discretion that time,’ I said. ‘But are these indiscretions as serious as all that? I can see that they have aroused a certain amount of unwelcome attention, indeed we have suffered from it ourselves, but it doesn’t seem to me that even taken all together they can amount to failure.’

  Chocky insisted that they did. She had had her first suspicion that failure might lie ahead when Matthew had talked to Landis.

  ‘He told him too much,’ she said.’ It was not until then that I realized how much I had talked to Matthew. I could only hope that Landis would be unintelligent enough to dismiss it as a child’s fantasy.’

  But Landis was not. On the contrary, he had found it a fascinating problem. He had mentioned it to Sir William Thorbe, who also found it fascinating.

  Chocky went on:

  ‘When Sir William hypnotized Matthew, he did not hypnotize me. I could hear what Matthew heard, I could also watch through his eyes. I saw Sir William turn on his tape-recorder and heard him ask his questions. At first he was merely interested by Matthew’s answers. Then he paid closer attention. He tried several trick questions. He feigned lack of understanding in attempts to catch Matthew out. He pretended to assume that Matthew had said things which he might have said, but had not. He tempted Matthew to invent, or to lie, with misleading questions. When none of these traps worked, he stopped the tape-recorder, and looked at Matthew very thoughtfully for some minutes. I could see him becoming excited as he accepted the implications. He poured himself a drink, and his hand was shaking slightly. While he drank it he continued to stare at Matthew with the half-incredulous wonderment of a man who has struck gold.

  ‘Presently, with a decisive gesture he put down his glass. He took himself in hand and became coolly methodical. He re-started the tape-recorder, tested it with care, picked up a note pad and pencil, and closed his eyes for a few moments in concentration. Then the questioning really began…’

  The Matthew-Chocky voice paused for a little.

  ‘That was when I knew I had failed.… To attempt to go on further with Matthew would be a waste of time – and dangerous, too. I knew I would have to leave him – and would have to make the parting painful for him, too. I was sorry about that – but it was necessary for him to be utterly convinced that I was going for good – never to return. Nor shall I, after this.’

  ‘I don’t quite see…’

  ‘It was quite clear that Sir William, having made his discovery, had his plans for making use of it; or handing on his news to someone else – and once that happened there would be no end to it…

  ‘It did happen, and very quickly. Matthew was kidnapped. He was injected with hypnotic, and other, drugs. And he talked…

  ‘They wrung him dry. Every detail, every word I had ever told him went into their tape-recorders.… And their recordings included his distress at my leaving him.… That was poignant enough to convince them that it was true, and under drugs it could not have been otherwise…

  ‘They were not bad people. They certainly wished him no harm. On the contrary, until they learnt that I had left him, he was potentially a very valuable property indeed. They realized that he was a channel through which I could, when he should have more background knowledge and understanding, communicate information that would change the power sources of the whole world.

  ‘When they had to accept the fact that I had left him, they decided the wisest course would be to let him go – and keep an eye on him. They could always pick him up again if there were any sign that I had returned; and they will go on watching for that sign’…

  ‘I don’t know whether they have bugged this room yet, but if they haven’t, they will. It doesn’t much matter now whether they have, or not, because I really am going, after this.’

  I broke in.

  ‘I don’t think I altogether understand this,’ I said. ‘From your point of view, I mean. They, whoever “they” may be, had Matthew. They could have seen to it that he should have the best possible coaching in physics and maths and whatever is necessary for him to understand you. That was what you wanted: your channel of communication – with all the help they could make available to him. If your purpose is, as you say, to tell us how to tap “cosmic power” you had the whole thing on a plate. They want to know what you want to tell them. And yet, instead of seizing the opportunity, you withdraw.… It doesn’t make sense…’

  There was a pause.

  ‘I don’t think you altogether understand your own world,’ was Chocky’s reply. ‘As I said, once someone has told the news to someone else, there is no end to it. There is industrial espionage: there is also temptation…

  ‘There are power-empires: oil interests, gas interests, coal interests, electrical interests, atomic interests. How much would they be willing to pay for information of a threat to their existence? A million pounds… two million… three million… even more? Somebody would take the chance…

  ‘And then what would a little boy’s life matter? What would a hundred lives matter, if necessary? There would be plenty of effective ways of taking action…’

  I had not thought of that…

  Chocky went on.

  ‘I tell you this because Matthew will be watched, and you may become aware of it. It does not matter, but do not tell him unless it is necessary. It is unpleasant to know that one is watched.

  ‘If you are wise you will discourage him from taking up physics – or any science, then there will be nothing to feed their suspicions. He is beginning to learn how to look at things, and to have an idea of drawing. As an artist he would be safe…

  ‘Remember, he knows nothing of what I have been telling you through him.

  ‘Now it is time for me to say good-bye.’

  ‘You are going back to your own world?’ I asked.

  ‘No. I have my work to do here. But this failure has made it much more difficult. It will take longer. I shall have to be subtle. They will be watching for me now.’

  ‘You think you can do it in spite of that?’

  ‘Of course. I must do it. It is my duty as one intelligent form to another. But now it will have to be done differently. A hint here, a hint there, an idea for one man, a moment of inspiration for another, more and more little pieces, innocuous in themselves until one day they will suddenly come together. The puzzle will be solved – the secret out, and unsuppressible.… It will take a long time. Probably it will not happen in your lifetime. But it will come… it will come…’

  ‘Before you go,’ I put in, ‘what are you, Chocky? I think I might understand better if I could imagine you as more than a blank. Suppose I were to give Matthew a pencil and paper, would you have him draw a picture of you?’

  There was a pause, but then it was followed by a ‘No’ that was quite decisive.

  ‘No,’ repeated the Matthew-Chocky voice. ‘Even with my training I sometimes find it hard to believe that forms like yours can house real minds at all. I think you would find it still harder to believe that mine could if you could see me. No, it is better not.’ The voice paused again, then:

  ‘Good-bye,’ it said.

  I got up, feeling stiff and somewhat chilled. There was a dim early light filtering through the curtains, enough of it to show Matthew still lying in his bed, still gazing blankly into nothingness. I moved towards him. His lips parted.

  ‘No,’ they said,’let him be. I must say good-bye to him, too.’

  I hesitated a moment, then:

  ‘All right,’ I said. ‘Good-bye, Chocky.’

  Twelve

  We let Matthew sleep the whole morning. He came down at lunch-time, tired and subdued, but, I was thankful to see, not distressed. After lunch he got out his bicycle and went off by himself. We did not see him again until he came in weary, but hungry for his supper. Immediately he had finished it he staggered upstairs to bed.

  The next day, Sunday, he was almost his usual self again. Mary’s concern diminished as she watched him put away a prodigious
breakfast. Polly, too, seemed to feel that things were back to normal, though something seemed to weigh on her mind. Presently she voiced it.

  ‘Aren’t we going to do anything?’ she inquired, at large.

  ‘What do you mean “do anything”?’ Mary asked.

  ‘Well, it’s Sunday. We could do something. I mean, when Twinklehooves got back from being kidnapped they put on a special gymkhana for him,’ Polly suggested hopefully.

  ‘I bet he won all the events, too,’ said Matthew through toast and marmalade.

  ‘Well, of course. It was his party,’ Polly said, fairly.

  ‘No gymkhanas, or other jamborees,’ I told them.’ Matthew and I are going to take a quiet stroll, aren’t we?’

  ‘All right,’ said Matthew.

  We took our stroll along the river bank.

  ‘She told me she had to go,’ I said.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Matthew. He sighed. ‘She explained properly this time. It was pretty horrid the way she did it before.’

  I did not inquire into the explanation she had given him. He sighed again.

  ‘It’s going to be a bit dull,’ he said. ‘She sort of made me notice things more.’

  ‘Can’t you go on noticing things? The world’s quite an interesting place. There’s lots to notice.’

  ‘Oh, I do. More than I did, I mean. Only it’s kind of lonely, just noticing by yourself…’

  ‘If you could get what you see down on paper you’d be able to share your noticing with other people…’ I suggested.

  ‘Yes,’ Matthew admitted. ‘It wouldn’t be the same – but it’d be something…’

  I stopped, and put my hand in my pocket.

  ‘Matthew, I’ve got this I want to give you.’

  I took out a small red leather-covered case, and held it out to him.

  Matthew’s eyes clouded. His hands did not move.

  ‘No. Take it,’ I insisted.

  He took it reluctantly, and gazed at it dim-eyed.

  ‘Open it,’I told him.

  He hesitated. Slowly, and even more reluctantly he pressed the catch, and lifted the lid.

  The medal glittered in the sunlight, reverse side uppermost.

  Matthew looked at it with an indifference that was near to distaste. Suddenly he stiffened, and bent his head forward to examine it more closely. For some seconds he did not move. Then he looked up smiling, though his eyes were overbright.

  ‘Thank you, Daddy.… Oh, thank you…!’ he said, and dropped his head to study it again.

  They had made a nice job of it. It looked just as if it had always been inscribed: