Fireball Read Free Page A

that he was responsible for her and maybe ought to go after her and make sure she was all right. The prospect of explaining that to Brad later was something he liked rather less. Or he could just stand his ground, while Brad went forward and investigated. And then listen to Brad’s report on it?
    He made a conscious, sweating effort to move his feet, and followed Brad. The fireball stayed on thesame spot, but he had a feeling, as much from intuition as from anything he could actually see, that it was spinning on its axis. And somehow inside the dazzling white there seemed to be colours—hundreds and thousands of tiny winking jewels. He said uneasily: “It’s quite pretty.”
    He wasn’t sure what happened next—whether the sphere moved like a lightning stroke towards them, or suddenly expanded. There was a weird sensation of rapid motion and absolute stillness at the same time and a quivering in his body as though every joint and every muscle were being violently twitched. He thought, with detachment: So this is what it’s like being electrocuted. Then all the white was black.

2
    I T WAS LIKE AWAKENING FROM sleep by being tossed into a cold bath. The sensation of stinging wetness was so vivid that Simon put a hand to his face and was surprised to find both dry. There had been a moment of unconsciousness, but it seemed no more than a moment, with the recollection of what had happened immediately before it intense and real. As real as the present awareness of lying on the ground, where he must have fallen.
    The fireball? There was no sign of it. He looked around him into an ordinary wood on an ordinary hot grey afternoon. Brad? Yes, Brad was there behindhim, getting to his feet. Simon stood up, too. His muscles trembled slightly but obeyed him. He turned round to look properly at Brad, a deliberate act. No, there was nothing wrong with him. He lifted his right arm, clenching the fist tight. As far as he could tell, anyway. He asked tentatively: “Brad?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhat happened?”
    â€œI’m not sure. The ball hit us, I guess. You okay?”
    â€œYes. You?”
    Brad nodded. “It must be true they’re harmless. Or maybe we just lucked out. Static electricity does funny things.”
    Simon remembered the first intimation of something out of place: the dog’s panic flight. Turning to look in the direction she’d gone, he was aware of another jolt, but mental, not physical. There was no path. He was standing on unmarked, rough ground in the middle of the wood. But where in the wood? That vast spreading tree, its gnarled trunk several feet across, had not been there. He would have noticed it. Trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice, he said: “Where are we?”
    â€œThat’s what I was starting to wonder.” Brad reached up to an overhanging branch and shook it, as though testing its reality. “Not where we were when we got hit.”
    â€œThat’s crazy!” He hesitated. “Some sort of dream?”
    Brad let go of the branch. He came towards Simon and, before Simon realized what was happening, had given him a short punch, jolting rather than painful, to the ribs. He grinned.
    â€œThat feel like a dream?”
    â€œBut what . . . ?”
    â€œMaybe a freak atmospheric condition. You read about those rains of frogs from the sky? We got picked up and then dumped. In another part of the wood.”
    Simon looked up at the sky. “No wind then. Or now.”
    â€œBut in between? I was out. Not long, I guess, but how would I know? And you?”
    â€œYes, but . . .”
    â€œLong enough, maybe, for some kind of updraft to lift us.”
    â€œAnd set us down again, both in the same spot, without a bruise?”
    Brad shrugged. “You have a better explanation?”
    â€œIt would make as much sense to have been taken—I don’t know—to another planet or