rr.thebrentfordtriangle-第21部分

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　'It's　a　mechanical　device　of　great　age；'　the　Professor　explained；　'demonstrating　the　movement　of　the　planets　about　our　Sun　and　their　relative　positions　to　one　another　during　their　endless　journeys。'　He　drew　their　attention　to　a　brazen　sphere。　'Here　is　the　Earth；'　he　said；　'and　here　the　legendary　planet　Ceres。　You　can　see　that　its　path　of　orbit　lay　exactly　between　those　of　Mars　and　Jupiter。　Fifth　from　the　Sun。　I　have　no　wish　to　labour　this　point；　but　might　I　explain　that　although　it　was　a　paratively　small　world　its　mass　and　density　were　such　that　its　destruction　caused　a　chain　reaction　in　our　system　which　had　very　serious　consequences　hereabouts。'
　'So　we　heard。'
　The　Professor　began　to　hand…crank　the　amazing　piece　of　machinery　and　the　brass　globes　pirouetted　about　the　central　sphere　in　a　pleasing　dance　ronde。
　'Here　upon　this　small　date　counter　you　can　follow　the　time…scale　of　each　yearly　revolution。'
　Pooley　and　Omally　watched　the　years　tick　by　as　the　tiny　planets　spun　on　their　courses。
　'Now　here；'　said　the　old　man；　halting　the　mechanism；　'is　where　the　catastrophe　occurred。　You　will　notice　the　alignment　of　the　planets；　almost　a　straight　line　from　the　Earth。　With　the　destruction　of　Ceres　the　gravitational　effects　would　have　been　shattering。'
　Pooley　noted　the　date　upon　the　tiny　brass　counter。　'The　time　of　the　Biblical　Flood；'　said　he。
　'Exactly。　I　personally　subscribe　to　the　theory　of　Ceres'　existence　and　of　its　destruction；'　said　Professor　Slobe。　'It　ties　up　a　good　many　historical　loose　ends；　and　I　will　go　further。　It　is　stated　in　the　Bible　that　after　the　waters　of　the　great　Flood　subsided；　God　set　his　bow　in　the　heavens　as　a　sign　that　no　such　event　would　occur　again。　I　believe　that　the　popular　view　that　it　was　the　rainbow　is　incorrect。　Rainbows　must　surely　have　been　observed　before　the　time　of　the　Flood。　More　likely；　I　think；　that　it　is　to　our　Moon　that　the　Almighty　alluded；　the　lunar　disc's　journey　describing　as　it　does　a　bow…like　arc　in　the　sky　each　night。'
　'Has　a　certain　ring　to　it；'　Pooley　agreed。　'But　what　puzzles　me　is　to　why　these　Cereans　should　choose　Brentford　of　all　places　as　a　landing　site。　I　take　it　that　by　what　Soap　said　regarding　gravitational　landing　beams　this　is；　in　fact；　the　case。'
　'Indeed　yes；　Brentford　has　been　singled　out　as　the　target。　I　thought　originally　that　it　was　Soap's　network　of　tunnels　which　had　drawn　them；　but　I　find　that　the　Cerean　tunnel　system　extends　beneath　a　greater　part　of　the　globe。　My　second　thought　was　that　some　great　centre　existed　here　in　the　distant　past；　possibly　a　previous　landing　site；　but　I　can　find　no　evidence　to　support　this。'
　'What　then？'
　'I　feel　it　to　be　the　influence　of　the　Brentford　Triangle！'
　'The　Brentford　what？'　said　both　men　hi　unison。
　The　Professor　poured　a　scotch　from　the　crystal　decanter　and　seating　himself　in　a　fireside　chair　did　his　very　best　to　explain。　'The　borough　which　is　Brentford　proper；'　he　said；　'exists　within　the　bounds　of　a　great　triangle。　The　sides　of　this　figure　are　the　Grand　Union　Canal；　the　Great　West　Road　and　the　River　Thames。　These　follow　the　courses　of　three　major　ley　lines。　As　you　may　know；　these　are　lines　of　subterranean　force　which；　although　never　having　been　fully　explained；　nevertheless　appear　to　exert　an　influence　upon　the　surface　of　the　planet。　I　walk　the　boundaries　of　the　borough　every　day　and　I　have　dowsed　these　lines　many　times。　They　never　move。
　'The　ancients　knew　of　their　existence　and　aligned　their　tumuli；　barrows；　standing　stones　and　circles　upon　them。　Apparently　they　believed　that　the　power　could　be　tapped。　Sadly；　down　through　the　centuries　man　has　built　across　the　leys；　interrupting　their　flow　and　nullifying　their　power。'
　'So；'　said　Pooley；　'if　the　power　of　the　leys　is　lost；　why　do　you　attach　any　significance　to　this　Brentford　Triangle　business？'
　The　Professor　tapped　at　his　nose；　and　for　the　first　time　both　Pooley　and　Omally　realized　where　Soap　Distant　had　got　the　habit　from。　'Simply　because　man　appears　to　have　lost　touch　with　the　leys'　power　does　not　mean　that　other　creatures　also　have。　Certain　are　still　susceptible；　the　most　obvious　being　our　feathered　friends。'
　'Darts？'　queried　Pooley。　The　Professor　ignored　him。
　'I　have　written　something　of　a　monograph　upon　the　subject。　Migrating　birds　inevitably　take　identical　routes　each　year；　and　these　invariably　run　along　the　major　ley　lines　of　the　countrywide　system。'
　'This　all　seems　a　bit　iffy；'　Omally　remarked。　'Are　you　suggesting　that　Cereans；　like　birds；　navigate　by　ley　lines？'
　'I　am　suggesting　that　an　advanced　civilization　such　as　theirs　must　surely　have　discovered　them。　And　here　at　a　time　when　they　were　uninterrupted。　As　the　lines　appear　never　to　move；　they　are　surely　ideal　for　navigation。　The　maps　of　Earth　no　doubt　gather　dust　in　the　Cerean　ships'　puter　banks　even　now。　Ready　when　required。'
　'I　suppose　it　is　feasible；'　Omally　conceded。　'But　even　so；　why　choose　Brentford？　Why　not　Avebury；　Glastonbury；　Stonehenge　or　somewhere？'
　The　Professor　rose　from　his　chair　and　crossed　the　room　to　where　something　rested　upon　an　ornate　Victorian　easel　covered　by　a　green　baize　cloth。　Drawing　this　aside；　he　exposed　a　large　mounted　map　of　the　district。　The　lines　of　the　great　triangle　had　been　inked　in　red　and　stood　out　clearly。
　'Impressive；'　said　Omally。
　'But；　as　you　say；　hardly　sufficient。　It　would　certainly　seem　more　logical　that　the　Cereans　would　choose　one　of　the　better…known　ley　centres　of　this　country。　No；　there　is　something　more　here；　some　inner　pattern　which　I　am　failing　to　observe。　I　am　sure　it　is　staring　me　right　in　the　face；　but　I　cannot　find　it。　Something　is　shining　out　like　a　beacon　into　space　guiding　these　beings　upon　their　way。'
　Pooley　and　Omally　followed　the　old　man　over　to　the　map　and　stood　peering　over　his　shoulders。　They　turned　their　heads　from　one　side　to　the　other；　made　as　to　speak；　then　reconsidered；　traced　the　courses　of　the　streets；　and　pointed　variously　at　random。　At　length　they　looked　at　one　another　and　shrugged。
　'I　cannot　see　anything；'　said　Jim；　'just　roads　and　houses；　shops　and　pubs。'　With　the　mention　of　the　latter　two　pairs　of　eyes　turned　simultaneously　towards　the　great　ormolu　mantelclock；　which　obligingly　struck　five　o'clock。
　'Nearly　opening　time；'　said　Omally。　'I　have　been　a　week　without　a　pint　of　Large。　Possibly；　Professor；　we　might　continue　this　discussion　over　a　refreshing　bevvy　or　two？'
　The　Professor　smiled　gently　and　withdrew　from　his　desk　a　folded　map　of　the　neighbourhood。　'You　certainly　deserve　a　drink；'　he　said；　'and　here'　…　he　took　out　a　crisp　new　five…pound　note　…　'have　it　on　me。'
　Pooley　accepted　both　map　and　fiver。　'Thank　you；'　he　said；　'this　is　most　kind。　Will　you　not　join　us　for　one？'
　'I　think　not；'　said　the　old　man。　'Study　the　map　though　and　employ　your　wits。　I　ask　only　one　favour：　please　bring　me　a　pound's　worth　of　silver　from　the　Swan's　cash　register。　From　there　and　nowhere　else；　do　you　understand？'
　'The　motive　or　the　request？'
　The　old　man　smiled　and　tapped　again　at　his　nose。
　'One　question；'　said　Omally；　as　he　and　Jim　were　turning　to　leave。　'Suppose　by　the　vaguest　of　chances　we　were　to　discover　this　pattern；　what　could　we　do？'
　The　Professor　shrugged　his　ancient　shoulders。　'No　knowledge　is　ever　wasted。　You　know　my　methods。　I　never　make　a　move　before　acquainting　myself　with　every　last　piece　of　relevant　information。'
　'Yes；　but。。。　'　Jim　made　a　rustling　sound　with　the　five…pound　note。　'We　will　be　in　touch；'　said　John　Omally。
　'Good　luck；'　said　the　Professor；　returning　to　his　desk。　'I　shall　look　forward　to　hearing　from　you。'
　John　and　Jim　wandered　off　towards　the　Flying　Swan。　'At　least　one　good　thing　has　e　out　of　all　this；'　said　Jim　after　a　while。
　'Then　you　will　kindly　enlighten　me　as　to　what　it　is；　because　it　has　certainly　slipped　by　me　in　the　heat　of　the　moment。'
　'Well；'　said　Pooley；　'at　least　now　we　know　that　the　strangers　upon　the　allotment　are　not　from　the　council；　so　we　can　continue　our　game。'
　'You　are　wise　beyond　your　years；　Jim；'　said　Omally；　dealing　his　panion　a　weltering　blow　to　the　skull。
　
　16
　Neville　sat　alone　at　a　side　table　in　his　favourite　darkened　corner　of　the　empty　saloon…bar。　He　heard　the　library　clock　faintly　chiming　the　hour　over　towards　the　Butts　Estate　and　sighed　a　deep　and　heartfelt　sigh。
　This　was　one　of　the　part…time　barman's　favourite　times；　when；　the　optics　replenished；　the　pumps　checked；　and　the　glasses　polished；　he　could　sit　alone　for　the　short　half…hour　before　opening　and　reflect　upon　days　gone　by　and　days　possibly　yet　to　e。
　This　afternoon；　however；　the　barman　felt　oddly　ill　at　ease。　Something　was　going　on　in　the　borough；　something　sinister；　and　he　could　smell　it。　Although　whatever　it　was　lurked　just　out　of　earshot　and　beyond　his　range　of　vision；　Neville　knew　he　could　smell　it。　And　what　he　could　smell；　he　most　definitely　did　not　like。　It　was　musty　and　tomb…like　and　had　the　sulphurous　odour　of　the　pit　to　it；　and　it　made　him　feel　awkward　and　uneasy。
　The　part…time　barman's　long　thin　hand　snaked　out　from　the　darkness　and　drew　away　a　tumbler　of　scotch　from　the　table　top。　There　came　a　sipping　sound；　a　slight　smacking　of　lips；　and　another　great　dismal　sigh。　Neville　leant　forward　to　replace　the　glass　and　his　nose　cleaved　t