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s of bats were to be seen； flying apparently aimlessly； frequently dashing themselves against the windows of the Biological Research Centre； almost as though they recognised this place as the headquarters of the war which was being waged against them。
'And the insecticides are apparently having no effect on them；' Newman murmured。 'We've killed off nearly everything else within a radius of sixty miles； but the bats appear to be unharmed。 How the hell are they surviving？'
They're eating poisoned insect life；' Haynes said； shaking his head in bewilderment； 'and they're thriving on it。 They don't even have to look for it。 The woods and； fields are carpeted with it。 And there's more than enough to keep them going until the winter。'
'Maybe that'll be the finish of them；' Rickers suggested。 'They'll hibernate； and then in spring there'll be no food for them and they'll starve。'
'Like hell！' Newman said。 They'll just spread to the rest of the country。 And we can't poison the whole of the British Isles from John o' Groats to Land's End。 Anyway； this hibernation isn't what everybody thinks it is。 Bats don't sleep solidly throughout the winter。 A spell of mild weather and they're as active as they are in summer。'
'But we don't know that we've failed yet；' Rickers insisted。 'Maybe the poison is taking longer to work on the bats。 The virus could be slowing it up。'
'Or even acting as an inoculation。 The virus could well be rendering it harmless。 There's so much we bloody well don't know about the whole thing。 All we can do is wait； but right now things don't look very hopeful。'
By 24th September it was clear to the whole world that the insecticide experiment was a failure and also that the overall situation had worsened。 The numbers of bats flying at night had visibly increased。 The young were now totally independent and flew with the adults like swarms of locusts over the whole countryside。 Every night held its own terrors。 Even the most secure barricades were proved to be inadequate； almost as though the creatures were now deliberately seeking out human victims。 Fleet Street constantly reminded the public that Professor Brian Newman was the sole cause of the disaster and that every death must weigh heavily on his conscience。
The man responsible for the spread of this mutated virus；' one London daily newspaper leader article ran； 'has so far failed to e up with an antidote； and it is now reasonable to assume that none exists。 An experiment to poison the bats has resulted in the destruction…of virtually the whole of the insect life in the Midlands。 What is Professor Newman doing about it？ The man responsible for the spread of myxomatosis； the scourge which once cleared Britain of rabbits； entered a monastery in an attempt to cleanse his conscience of the suffering which he had caused to millions of coneys。 Surely that is all that is left for Professor Newman； a monk's habit； and a lifetime spent praying for forgiveness。 Repent； Professor Newman。'
Brian Newman's hand trembled as he put the paper down on the table。
'Stop blaming yourself；' Susan Wylie said as she entered the room and placed a cup of coffee at his elbow。 'The Press always have to put somebody in the stocks。 How the hell can they pare you with this myxomatosis guy？ His intention was to cause deliberate suffering。 Yours was an accident； a biological freak。'
Newman sat up suddenly； his fists clenched。
'My God！' he muttered。 'Why didn't I think of it before？'
'Think of what？'
'Where's last week's Scientific American。' He began to rummage through a pile of newspapers and magazines beside where he was sitting。
'What is it？'
'Here it is。' He pulled out the magazine he sought and began to flip quickly through the pages。 'Now； let me see； I know I read it somewhere in here。。。 ah； yes； this is it。'
Susan Wylie peered over his shoulder。 The article in question was written by one of the leading biologists in the United States and was titled 'Myxomatosis for Rats and Mice。'
'Recent experiments have proved；' it read； 'that a type of myxomatosis； a mutation of the virus which destroys rabbits； is lethal to rats and mice。 Once this can be distributed widely it could save the United States billions of dollars annually…in vermin destruction； damage to growing crops； and also help to check the spread of many diseases。。。 '
'Is it possible？' Newman breathed。
'You mean。。。 ？'
'Yes； you've got it！' the Professor's eyes shone。 'If it kills rats and mice； there's no reason why it shouldn't kill bats。 It could be the answer to our prayers。 I'll ring Rickers right away。 Maybe we could get some of the stuff flown in。'
Rickers was not enthusiastic。 Neither was he pleased about being disturbed whilst trying to catch up on some lost sleep。
'Doesn't sound very promising to me；' he grunted。
'Neither did your insecticides idea。' Newman snapped； 'and that certainly didn't work。 Now it's my turn。'
'Myxomatosis took months to spread。'
'Obviously it did； because rabbits live in warrens； often isolated； without ing into contact with others。 The fleas had to carry the virus。 This one is contagious。 Quicker acting； and bats are much more sociable creatures。 And even if it doesn't work on them at least we'll cut down the spread of the disease by destroying rats and mice。'
'I'll sleep on it。' Rickers mumbled and replaced the receiver。
'Well？' Susan Wylie asked。
'He's interested。' Newman told her laughing。 'Pooh…poohed it； of course； because he hadn't thought of it first。 Tried to find reasons why it wouldn't work。 Then said he'd sleep on it。 That means he's fetching Haynes out of bed right now。 Probably Professor Talbot and Sir John Stirchley； too； and there might even be a trans…Atlantic call to New York before morning。'
'Oh； Brian！' She flung her arms around his； crying softly。
'Now hold on；' he said。 'Let's not count our chickens。 There are one helluva lot of obstacles to overe before we even get round to trying to spread this thing。 The government will have to agree to another virus being released； and they aren't exactly sympathetic to everything we've done so far。 Like Rickers said； let's sleep on it。'
Chapter Fourteen
The safari Land…Rover bumped its way across the heather and gorse on Cannock Chase。
'That'll do；' Newman said to the driver。 'We'll release the bats in those firs over there。 The rats and mice we'll take down to the Sherbrook Valley。'
The driver； a small man in overalls who spent most of his time nodding assent to any orders he was given； brought the vehicle to a standstill。 Newman climbed down and； taking a small wicker container resembling a pigeon…basket from the rear； he walked with it towards the nearest line of trees。 From inside the basket came frenzied squeaks and fluttering。 The bats were impatient for their freedom。
Professor Newman opened the lid； and immediately six bats hurtled up into the air； f