Summersby was losing the sense of being apart, of having no problems no
matter what happened. These people had drawn him into their trouble
against his will; the situation was so bad that he could no longer tell
himself he didn't give a damn. So he had a bad heart! He couldn't turn
his back on these poor devils because of that. It was stupid and
selfish. He felt sorry for them. He was uncomfortable with them, as he
always was with standard-sized people, and he would still repel any
attempt on their part to get close to him; but he was a little chastened
by what he had been through. He recognized that.
It was all very well to say he didn't care where he died, but it would
be a hell of a lot more dignified to accomplish it as a free man, rather
than as a harried rabbit. Even if he were killed trying to escape, it
would be endurable. But if his heart gave out while he was, say,
trundling up and down the nursery in that ridiculous little auto thing,
he knew his last breath would be a bitter one.
Adam had just said, "I laid a rod across the sill there." Summersby
walked to the wall, which appeared to be closed as usual. Just as he
came to it, he caught the sheen of metal in a thin line up the corner,
and knew that he was seeing part of one of the machines in the nursery.
The dowel had held the door.
Something moved outside; he could hear the dull slap of immense flat
feet. They were going to be fed. He strolled away from the corner,
saying quietly, "It worked, Adam. Don't check it now, though."
The small panel opened and one of the garishly hued platters was put in,
loaded with a wriggling, seething mass of grubs and half-dead locusts.
"Supper?" cried Villa. "This is supper? Do they think we are a lot of
African natives?"
"Well," said Adam, "I guess they were fooled by me." It was the first
time he had made any sort of joke about his color. Possibly, thought
Summersby, he's becoming one of the group, as I am. God knows the kid
has as much reason to be bitter about people as I have; or more reason.
It's put him on the defensive.
Summersby felt more chastened than ever.
No one cared to sample the insects. They walked away from the platter
and hoped aloud that their captors would see the refusal and give them
something else, but nothing was pushed in. After a quarter of an hour
Watkins said, "Think it's safe to have a try at the door?"
"No," said Summersby.
Watkins jumped to his feet. "Listen, I've had all I can stomach of you!"
he yelled. "If you don't want to help, okay, but keep your nose--"
"I was going to say that they'll be pumping in the sleep gas pretty
soon, and we don't know whether they do it from outside the nursery or
outside this box."
"That's right," said Calvin Full.
Watkins eyed him a moment. "I'm sorry, Summersby," he said then. "I shot
off my mouth too quick."
"They filled the nursery with it once," went on Summersby, "but it seems
logical to think they could also let it into this room alone. Maybe it
works on them, maybe not; if it does, then they wouldn't flood the
nursery with it every night, because the adults have to come in and
clean the place up."
"A clever thought, Mr. Summersby," said the woman.
"Not particularly. At any rate, I'm going to stand by the crack and try
to get enough air to stay awake; then when I think the coast's clear,
I'll shove the door open and scout around. If I find a way out, I'll
come back and drag you into the nursery and wake you."
"Why are you doing this?" asked Villa suspiciously. "No, Mr. Big Man, I
don't like you going out alone. I think you wouldn't come back. You
don't like us."
Watkins, evidently on edge from his mauling by the children, whirled on
the Mexican. "Oh, shut your yap! The guy's doing you a favor." Then he
said to Summersby, "I'll come along."
Summersby grinned wryly.
"I'm not saying you'd run out on us, man." Watkins made the motions of
going through his pockets for a cigarette, which some of them still did
occasionally out of hopeful habit. "I know locks and I might be able to
help if you ran into trouble."
"Come on along, then." He put an eye to the thin slit. "Here comes one
of them. It's the head scientist." He grinned. "Or the kid who owns us,
who lives in this house and invites his little pals in every day to play
with his toys and his pets."