Back Aa

Second Variety

Tasso swept the curtain aside. “Klaus! What did you do?” Klaus turned from the charred form, gradually sinking down the wall onto the floor. “The Second Variety, Tasso. Now we know. We have all three types identified. The danger is less. I—” Tasso stared past him at the remains of Rudi, at the blackened, smouldering fragments and bits of cloth. “You killed him.” “Him? It, you mean. I was watching. I had a feeling, but I wasn’t sure. At least, I wasn’t sure before. But this evening I was certain.” Klaus rubbed his pistol butt nervously. “We’re lucky. Don’t you understand? Another hour and it might—” “You were certain?” Tasso pushed past him and bent down, over the steaming remains on the floor. Her face became hard. “Major, see for yourself. Bones. Flesh.” Hendricks bent down beside her. The remains were human remains. Seared flesh, charred bone fragments, part of a skull. Ligaments, viscera, blood. Blood forming a pool against the wall. “No wheels,” Tasso said calmly. She straightened up. “No wheels, no parts, no relays. Not a claw. Not the Second Variety.” She folded her arms. “You’re going to have to be able to explain this.” Klaus sat down at the table, all the color drained suddenly from his face. He put his head in his hands and rocked back and forth. “Snap out of it.” Tasso’s fingers closed over his shoulder. “Why did you do it? Why did you kill him?” “He was frightened,” Hendricks said. “All this, the whole thing, building up around us.” “Maybe.” “What, then? What do you think?” “I think he may have had a reason for killing Rudi. A good reason.” “What reason?” “Maybe Rudi learned something.” Hendricks studied her bleak face. “About what?” he asked. “About him. About Klaus.” <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> Klaus looked up quickly. “You can see what she’s trying to say. She thinks I’m the Second Variety. Don’t you see, Major? Now she wants you to believe I killed him on purpose. That I’m—” “Why did you kill him, then?” Tasso said. “I told you.” Klaus shook his head wearily. “I thought he was a claw. I thought I knew.” “Why?” “I had been watching him. I was suspicious.” “Why?” “I thought I had seen something. Heard something. I thought I—” He stopped. “Go on.” “We were sitting at the table. Playing cards. You two were in the other room. It was silent. I thought I heard him—whirr.” There was silence. “Do you believe that?” Tasso said to Hendricks. “Yes. I believe what he says.” “I don’t. I think he killed Rudi for a good purpose.” Tasso touched the rifle, resting in the corner of the room. “Major—” “No.” Hendricks shook his head. “Let’s stop it right now. One is enough. We’re afraid, the way he was. If we kill him we’ll be doing what he did to Rudi.” Klaus looked gratefully up at him. “Thanks. I was afraid. You understand, don’t you? Now she’s afraid, the way I was. She wants to kill me.” “No more killing.” Hendricks moved toward the end of the ladder. “I’m going above and try the transmitter once more. If I can’t get them we’re moving back toward my lines tomorrow morning.” Klaus rose quickly. “I’ll come up with you and give you a hand.” <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> The night air was cold. The earth was cooling off. Klaus took a deep breath, filling his lungs. He and Hendricks stepped onto the ground, out of the tunnel. Klaus planted his feet wide apart, the rifle up, watching and listening. Hendricks crouched by the tunnel mouth, tuning the small transmitter. “Any luck?” Klaus asked presently. “Not yet.” “Keep trying. Tell them what happened.” Hendricks kept trying. Without success. Finally he lowered the antenna. “It’s useless. They can’t hear me. Or they hear me and won’t answer. Or—” “Or they don’t exist.” “I’ll try once more.” Hendricks raised the antenna. “Scott, can you hear me? Come in!” He listened. There was only static. Then, still very faintly— “This is Scott.” His fingers tightened. “Scott! Is it you?” “This is Scott.” Klaus squatted down. “Is it your command?” “Scott, listen. Do you understand? About them, the claws. Did you get my message? Did you hear me?” “Yes.” Faintly. Almost inaudible. He could hardly make out the word. “You got my message? Is everything all right at the bunker? None of them have got in?” “Everything is all right.” “Have they tried to get in?” The voice was weaker. “No.” Hendricks turned to Klaus. “They’re all right.” “Have they been attacked?” “No.” Hendricks pressed the phone tighter to his ear. “Scott, I can hardly hear you. Have you notified the Moon Base? Do they know? Are they alerted?” No answer. “Scott! Can you hear me?” Silence. Hendricks relaxed, sagging. “Faded out. Must be radiation pools.” <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> Hendricks and Klaus looked at each other. Neither of them said anything. After a time Klaus said, “Did it sound like any of your men? Could you identify the voice?” “It was too faint.” “You couldn’t be certain?” “No.” “Then it could have been—” “I don’t know. Now I’m not sure. Let’s go back down and get the lid closed.” They climbed back down the ladder slowly, into the warm cellar. Klaus bolted the lid behind them. Tasso waited for them, her face expressionless. “Any luck?” she asked. Neither of them answered. “Well?” Klaus said at last. “What do you think, Major? Was it your officer, or was it one of them?” “I don’t know.” “Then we’re just where we were before.” Hendricks stared down at the floor, his jaw set. “We’ll have to go. To be sure.” “Anyhow, we have food here for only a few weeks. We’d have to go up after that, in any case.” “Apparently so.” “What’s wrong?” Tasso demanded. “Did you get across to your bunker? What’s the matter?” “It may have been one of my men,” Hendricks said slowly. “Or it may have been one of them. But we’ll never know standing here.” He examined his watch. “Let’s turn in and get some sleep. We want to be up early tomorrow.” “Early?” “Our best chance to get through the claws should be early in the morning,” Hendricks said. <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> The morning was crisp and clear. Major Hendricks studied the countryside through his fieldglasses. “See anything?” Klaus said. “No.” “Can you make out our bunkers?” “Which way?” “Here.” Klaus took the glasses and adjusted them. “I know where to look.” He looked a long time, silently. Tasso came to the top of the tunnel and stepped up onto the ground. “Anything?” “No.” Klaus passed the glasses back to Hendricks. “They’re out of sight. Come on. Let’s not stay here.” The three of them made their way down the side of the ridge, sliding in the soft ash. Across a flat rock a lizard scuttled. They stopped instantly, rigid. “What was it?” Klaus muttered. “A lizard.” The lizard ran on, hurrying through the ash. It was exactly the same color as the ash. “Perfect adaptation,” Klaus said. “Proves we were right. Lysenko, I mean.” They reached the bottom of the ridge and stopped, standing close together, looking around them. “Let’s go.” Hendricks started off. “It’s a good long trip, on foot.” Klaus fell in beside him. Tasso walked behind, her pistol held alertly. “Major, I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Klaus said. “How did you run across the David? The one that was tagging you.” “I met it along the way. In some ruins.” “What did it say?” “Not much. It said it was alone. By itself.” “You couldn’t tell it was a machine? It talked like a living person? You never suspected?” “It didn’t say much. I noticed nothing unusual. “It’s strange, machines so much like people that you can be fooled. Almost alive. I wonder where it’ll end.” “They’re doing what you Yanks designed them to do,” Tasso said. “You designed them to hunt out life and destroy. Human life. Wherever they find it.” <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> Hendricks was watching Klaus intently. “Why did you ask me? What’s on your mind?” “Nothing,” Klaus answered. “Klaus thinks you’re the Second Variety,” Tasso said calmly, from behind them. “Now he’s got his eye on you.” Klaus flushed. “Why not? We sent a runner to the Yank lines and he comes back. Maybe he thought he’d find some good game here.” Hendricks laughed harshly. “I came from the UN bunkers. There were human beings all around me.” “Maybe you saw an opportunity to get into the Soviet lines. Maybe you saw your chance. Maybe you—” “The Soviet lines had already been taken over. Your lines had been invaded before I left my command bunker. Don’t forget that.” Tasso came up beside him. “That proves nothing at all, Major.” “Why not?” “There appears to be little communication between the varieties. Each is made in a different factory. They don’t seem to work together. You might have started for the Soviet lines without knowing anything about the work of the other varieties. Or even what the other varieties were like.” “How do you know so much about the claws?” Hendricks said. “I’ve seen them. I’ve observed them. I observed them take over the Soviet bunkers.” “You know quite a lot,” Klaus said. “Actually, you saw very little. Strange that you should have been such an acute observer.” Tasso laughed. “Do you suspect me, now?” “Forget it,” Hendricks said. They walked on in silence. “Are we going the whole way on foot?” Tasso said, after awhile. “I’m not used to walking.” She gazed around at the plain of ash, stretching out on all sides of them, as far as they could see. “How dreary.” “It’s like this all the way,” Klaus said. “In a way I wish you had been in your bunker when the attack came.” “Somebody else would have been with you, if not me,” Klaus muttered. Tasso laughed, putting her hands in her pockets. “I suppose so.” They walked on, keeping their eyes on the vast plain of silent ash around them. <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> The sun was setting. Hendricks made his way forward slowly, waving Tasso and Klaus back. Klaus squatted down, resting his gun butt against the ground. Tasso found a concrete slab and sat down with a sigh. “It’s good to rest.” “Be quiet,” Klaus said sharply. Hendricks pushed up to the top of the rise ahead of them. The same rise the Russian runner had come up, the day before. Hendricks dropped down, stretching himself out, peering through his glasses at what lay beyond. Nothing was visible. Only ash and occasional trees. But there, not more than fifty yards ahead, was the entrance of the forward command bunker. The bunker from which he had come. Hendricks watched silently. No motion. No sign of life. Nothing stirred. Klaus slithered up beside him. “Where is it?” “Down there.” Hendricks passed him the glasses. Clouds of ash rolled across the evening sky. The world was darkening. They had a couple of hours of light left, at the most. Probably not that much. “I don’t see anything,” Klaus said. “That tree there. The stump. By the pile of bricks. The entrance is to the right of the bricks.” “I’ll have to take your word for it.” “You and Tasso cover me from here. You’ll be able to sight all the way to the bunker entrance.” “You’re going down alone?” “With my wrist tab I’ll be safe. The ground around the bunker is a living field of claws. They collect down in the ash. Like crabs. Without tabs you wouldn’t have a chance.” “Maybe you’re right.” “I’ll walk slowly all the way. As soon as I know for certain—” “If they’re down inside the bunker you won’t be able to get back up here. They go fast. You don’t realize.” “What do you suggest?” Klaus considered. “I don’t know. Get them to come up to the surface. So you can see.” Hendricks brought his transmitter from his belt, raising the antenna. “Let’s get started.” <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> Klaus signalled to Tasso. She crawled expertly up the side of the rise to where they were sitting. “He’s going down alone,” Klaus said. “We’ll cover him from here. As soon as you see him start back, fire past him at once. They come quick.” “You’re not very optimistic,” Tasso said. “No, I’m not.” Hendricks opened the breech of his gun, checking it carefully. “Maybe things are all right.” “You didn’t see them. Hundreds of them. All the same. Pouring out like ants.” “I should be able to find out without going down all the way.” Hendricks locked his gun, gripping it in one hand, the transmitter in the other. “Well, wish me luck.” Klaus put out his hand. “Don’t go down until you’re sure. Talk to them from up here. Make them show themselves.” <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> Hendricks stood up. He stepped down the side of the rise. A moment later he was walking slowly toward the pile of bricks and debris beside the dead tree stump. Toward the entrance of the forward command bunker. Nothing stirred. He raised the transmitter, clicking it on. “Scott? Can you hear me?” Silence. “Scott! This is Hendricks. Can you hear me? I’m standing outside the bunker. You should be able to see me in the view sight.” He listened, the transmitter gripped tightly. No sound. Only static. He walked forward. A claw burrowed out of the ash and raced toward him. It halted a few feet away and then slunk off. A second claw appeared, one of the big ones with feelers. It moved toward him, studied him intently, and then fell in behind him, dogging respectfully after him, a few paces away. A moment later a second big claw joined it. Silently, the claws trailed him, as he walked slowly toward the bunker. Hendricks stopped, and behind him, the claws came to a halt. He was close, now. Almost to the bunker steps. “Scott! Can you hear me? I’m standing right above you. Outside. On the surface. Are you picking me up?” <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> He waited, holding his gun against his side, the transmitter tightly to his ear. Time passed. He strained to hear, but there was only silence. Silence, and faint static. Then, distantly, metallically— “This is Scott.” The voice was neutral. Cold. He could not identify it. But the earphone was minute. “Scott! Listen. I’m standing right above you. I’m on the surface, looking down into the bunker entrance.” “Yes.” “Can you see me?” “Yes.” “Through the view sight? You have the sight trained on me?” “Yes.” Hendricks pondered. A circle of claws waited quietly around him, gray-metal bodies on all sides of him. “Is everything all right in the bunker? Nothing unusual has happened?” “Everything is all right.” “Will you come up to the surface? I want to see you for a moment.” Hendricks took a deep breath. “Come up here with me. I want to talk to you.” “Come down.” “I’m giving you an order.” Silence. “Are you coming?” Hendricks listened. There was no response. “I order you to come to the surface.” “Come down.” Hendricks set his jaw. “Let me talk to Leone.” There was a long pause. He listened to the static. Then a voice came, hard, thin, metallic. The same as the other. “This is Leone.” “Hendricks. I’m on the surface. At the bunker entrance. I want one of you to come up here.” “Come down.” “Why come down? I’m giving you an order!” Silence. Hendricks lowered the transmitter. He looked carefully around him. The entrance was just ahead. Almost at his feet. He lowered the antenna and fastened the transmitter to his belt. Carefully, he gripped his gun with both hands. He moved forward, a step at a time. If they could see him they knew he was starting toward the entrance. He closed his eyes a moment. Then he put his foot on the first step that led downward. Two Davids came up at him, their faces identical and expressionless. He blasted them into particles. More came rushing silently up, a whole pack of them. All exactly the same. Hendricks turned and raced back, away from the bunker, back toward the rise. At the top of the rise Tasso and Klaus were firing down. The small claws were already streaking up toward them, shining metal spheres going fast, racing frantically through the ash. But he had no time to think about that. He knelt down, aiming at the bunker entrance, gun against his cheek. The Davids were coming out in groups, clutching their teddy bears, their thin knobby legs pumping as they ran up the steps to the surface. Hendricks fired into the main body of them. They burst apart, wheels and springs flying in all directions. He fired again through the mist of particles. A giant lumbering figure rose up in the bunker entrance, tall and swaying. Hendricks paused, amazed. A man, a soldier. With one leg, supporting himself with a crutch. “Major!” Tasso’s voice came. More firing. The huge figure moved forward, Davids swarming around it. Hendricks broke out of his freeze. The First Variety. The Wounded Soldier. He aimed and fired. The soldier burst into bits, parts and relays flying. Now many Davids were out on the flat ground, away from the bunker. He fired again and again, moving slowly back, half-crouching and aiming. From the rise, Klaus fired down. The side of the rise was alive with claws making their way up. Hendricks retreated toward the rise, running and crouching. Tasso had left Klaus and was circling slowly to the right, moving away from the rise. A David slipped up toward him, its small white face expressionless, brown hair hanging down in its eyes. It bent over suddenly, opening its arms. Its teddy bear hurtled down and leaped across the ground, bounding toward him. Hendricks fired. The bear and the David both dissolved. He grinned, blinking. It was like a dream. “Up here!” Tasso’s voice. Hendricks made his way toward her. She was over by some columns of concrete, walls of a ruined building. She was firing past him, with the hand pistol Klaus had given her. “Thanks.” He joined her, grasping for breath. She pulled him back, behind the concrete, fumbling at her belt. “Close your eyes!” She unfastened a globe from her waist. Rapidly, she unscrewed the cap, locking it into place. “Close your eyes and get down.” <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> She threw the bomb. It sailed in an arc, an expert, rolling and bouncing to the entrance of the bunker. Two Wounded Soldiers stood uncertainly by the brick pile. More Davids poured from behind them, out onto the plain. One of the Wounded Soldiers moved toward the bomb, stooping awkwardly down to pick it up. The bomb went off. The concussion whirled Hendricks around, throwing him on his face. A hot wind rolled over him. Dimly he saw Tasso standing behind the columns, firing slowly and methodically at the Davids coming out of the raging clouds of white fire. Back along the rise Klaus struggled with a ring of claws circling around him. He retreated, blasting at them and moving back, trying to break through the ring. Hendricks struggled to his feet. His head ached. He could hardly see. Everything was licking at him, raging and whirling. His right arm would not move. Tasso pulled back toward him. “Come on. Let’s go.” “Klaus—He’s still up there.” “Come on!” Tasso dragged Hendricks back, away from the columns. Hendricks shook his head, trying to clear it. Tasso led him rapidly away, her eyes intense and bright, watching for claws that had escaped the blast. One David came out of the rolling clouds of flame. Tasso blasted it. No more appeared. “But Klaus. What about him?” Hendricks stopped, standing unsteadily. “He—” “Come on!” <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> They retreated, moving farther and farther away from the bunker. A few small claws followed them for a little while and then gave up, turning back and going off. At last Tasso stopped. “We can stop here and get our breaths.” Hendricks sat down on some heaps of debris. He wiped his neck, gasping. “We left Klaus back there.” Tasso said nothing. She opened her gun, sliding a fresh round of blast cartridges into place. Hendricks stared at her, dazed. “You left him back there on purpose.” Tasso snapped the gun together. She studied the heaps of rubble around them, her face expressionless. As if she were watching for something. “What is it?” Hendricks demanded. “What are you looking for? Is something coming?” He shook his head, trying to understand. What was she doing? What was she waiting for? He could see nothing. Ash lay all around them, ash and ruins. Occasional stark tree trunks, without leaves or branches. “What—” Tasso cut him off. “Be still.” Her eyes narrowed. Suddenly her gun came up. Hendricks turned, following her gaze. <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> Back the way they had come a figure appeared. The figure walked unsteadily toward them. Its clothes were torn. It limped as it made its way along, going very slowly and carefully. Stopping now and then, resting and getting its strength. Once it almost fell. It stood for a moment, trying to steady itself. Then it came on. Klaus. Hendricks stood up. “Klaus!” He started toward him. “How the hell did you—” Tasso fired. Hendricks swung back. She fired again, the blast passing him, a searing line of heat. The beam caught Klaus in the chest. He exploded, gears and wheels flying. For a moment he continued to walk. Then he swayed back and forth. He crashed to the ground, his arms flung out. A few more wheels rolled away. Silence. Tasso turned to Hendricks. “Now you understand why he killed Rudi.” Hendricks sat down again slowly. He shook his head. He was numb. He could not think. “Do you see?” Tasso said. “Do you understand?” Hendricks said nothing. Everything was slipping away from him, faster and faster. Darkness, rolling and plucking at him. He closed his eyes. <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> Hendricks opened his eyes slowly. His body ached all over. He tried to sit up but needles of pain shot through his arm and shoulder. He gasped. “Don’t try to get up,” Tasso said. She bent down, putting her cold hand against his forehead. It was night. A few stars glinted above, shining through the drifting clouds of ash. Hendricks lay back, his teeth locked. Tasso watched him impassively. She had built a fire with some wood and weeds. The fire licked feebly, hissing at a metal cup suspended over it. Everything was silent. Unmoving darkness, beyond the fire. “So he was the Second Variety,” Hendricks murmured. “I had always thought so.” “Why didn’t you destroy him sooner?” he wanted to know. “You held me back.” Tasso crossed to the fire to look into the metal cup. “Coffee. It’ll be ready to drink in awhile.” She came back and sat down beside him. Presently she opened her pistol and began to disassemble the firing mechanism, studying it intently. “This is a beautiful gun,” Tasso said, half-aloud. “The construction is superb.” “What about them? The claws.” “The concussion from the bomb put most of them out of action. They’re delicate. Highly organized, I suppose.” “The Davids, too?” “Yes.” “How did you happen to have a bomb like that?” Tasso shrugged. “We designed it. You shouldn’t underestimate our technology, Major. Without such a bomb you and I would no longer exist.” “Very useful.” Tasso stretched out her legs, warming her feet in the heat of the fire. “It surprised me that you did not seem to understand, after he killed Rudi. Why did you think he—” “I told you. I thought he was afraid.” “Really? You know, Major, for a little while I suspected you. Because you wouldn’t let me kill him. I thought you might be protecting him.” She laughed. “Are we safe here?” Hendricks asked presently. “For awhile. Until they get reinforcements from some other area.” Tasso began to clean the interior of the gun with a bit of rag. She finished and pushed the mechanism back into place. She closed the gun, running her finger along the barrel. “We were lucky,” Hendricks murmured. “Yes. Very lucky.” “Thanks for pulling me away.” <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> Tasso did not answer. She glanced up at him, her eyes bright in the fire light. Hendricks examined his arm. He could not move his fingers. His whole side seemed numb. Down inside him was a dull steady ache. “How do you feel?” Tasso asked. “My arm is damaged.” “Anything else?” “Internal injuries.” “You didn’t get down when the bomb went off.” Hendricks said nothing. He watched Tasso pour the coffee from the cup into a flat metal pan. She brought it over to him. “Thanks.” He struggled up enough to drink. It was hard to swallow. His insides turned over and he pushed the pan away. “That’s all I can drink now.” Tasso drank the rest. Time passed. The clouds of ash moved across the dark sky above them. Hendricks rested, his mind blank. After awhile he became aware that Tasso was standing over him, gazing down at him. “What is it?” he murmured. “Do you feel any better?” “Some.” “You know, Major, if I hadn’t dragged you away they would have got you. You would be dead. Like Rudi.” “I know.” “Do you want to know why I brought you out? I could have left you. I could have left you there.” “Why did you bring me out?” “Because we have to get away from here.” Tasso stirred the fire with a stick, peering calmly down into it. “No human being can live here. When their reinforcements come we won’t have a chance. I’ve pondered about it while you were unconscious. We have perhaps three hours before they come.” “And you expect me to get us away?” “That’s right. I expect you to get us out of here.” “Why me?” “Because I don’t know any way.” Her eyes shone at him in the half-light, bright and steady. “If you can’t get us out of here they’ll kill us within three hours. I see nothing else ahead. Well, Major? What are you going to do? I’ve been waiting all night. While you were unconscious I sat here, waiting and listening. It’s almost dawn. The night is almost over.” <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> Hendricks considered. “It’s curious,” he said at last. “Curious?” “That you should think I can get us out of here. I wonder what you think I can do.” “Can you get us to the Moon Base?” “The Moon Base? How?” “There must be some way.” Hendricks shook his head. “No. There’s no way that I know of.” Tasso said nothing. For a moment her steady gaze wavered. She ducked her head, turning abruptly away. She scrambled to her feet. “More coffee?” “No.” “Suit yourself.” Tasso drank silently. He could not see her face. He lay back against the ground, deep in thought, trying to concentrate. It was hard to think. His head still hurt. And the numbing daze still hung over him. “There might be one way,” he said suddenly. “Oh?” “How soon is dawn?” “Two hours. The sun will be coming up shortly.” “There’s supposed to be a ship near here. I’ve never seen it. But I know it exists.” “What kind of a ship?” Her voice was sharp. “A rocket cruiser.” “Will it take us off? To the Moon Base?” “It’s supposed to. In case of emergency.” He rubbed his forehead. “What’s wrong?” “My head. It’s hard to think. I can hardly—hardly concentrate. The bomb.” “Is the ship near here?” Tasso slid over beside him, settling down on her haunches. “How far is it? Where is it?” “I’m trying to think.” Her fingers dug into his arm. “Nearby?” Her voice was like iron. “Where would it be? Would they store it underground? Hidden underground?” “Yes. In a storage locker.” “How do we find it? Is it marked? Is there a code marker to identify it?” Hendricks concentrated. “No. No markings. No code symbol.” “What, then?” “A sign.” “What sort of sign?” <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> Hendricks did not answer. In the flickering light his eyes were glazed, two sightless orbs. Tasso’s fingers dug into his arm. “What sort of sign? What is it?” “I—I can’t think. Let me rest.” “All right.” She let go and stood up. Hendricks lay back against the ground, his eyes closed. Tasso walked away from him, her hands in her pockets. She kicked a rock out of her way and stood staring up at the sky. The night blackness was already beginning to fade into gray. Morning was coming. Tasso gripped her pistol and walked around the fire in a circle, back and forth. On the ground Major Hendricks lay, his eyes closed, unmoving. The grayness rose in the sky, higher and higher. The landscape became visible, fields of ash stretching out in all directions. Ash and ruins of buildings, a wall here and there, heaps of concrete, the naked trunk of a tree. The air was cold and sharp. Somewhere a long way off a bird made a few bleak sounds. Hendricks stirred. He opened his eyes. “Is it dawn? Already?” “Yes.” Hendricks sat up a little. “You wanted to know something. You were asking me.” “Do you remember now?” “Yes.” “What is it?” She tensed. “What?” she repeated sharply. “A well. A ruined well. It’s in a storage locker under a well.” “A well.” Tasso relaxed. “Then we’ll find a well.” She looked at her watch. “We have about an hour, Major. Do you think we can find it in an hour?” <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> “Give me a hand up,” Hendricks said. Tasso put her pistol away and helped him to his feet. “This is going to be difficult.” “Yes it is.” Hendricks set his lips tightly. “I don’t think we’re going to go very far.” They began to walk. The early sun cast a little warmth down on them. The land was flat and barren, stretching out gray and lifeless as far as they could see. A few birds sailed silently, far above them, circling slowly. “See anything?” Hendricks said. “Any claws?” “No. Not yet.” They passed through some ruins, upright concrete and bricks. A cement foundation. Rats scuttled away. Tasso jumped back warily. “This used to be a town,” Hendricks said. “A village. Provincial village. This was all grape country, once. Where we are now.” They came onto a ruined street, weeds and cracks criss-crossing it. Over to the right a stone chimney stuck up. “Be careful,” he warned her. A pit yawned, an open basement. Ragged ends of pipes jutted up, twisted and bent. They passed part of a house, a bathtub turned on its side. A broken chair. A few spoons and bits of china dishes. In the center of the street the ground had sunk away. The depression was filled with weeds and debris and bones. “Over here,” Hendricks murmured. “This way?” “To the right.” They passed the remains of a heavy duty tank. Hendricks’ belt counter clicked ominously. The tank had been radiation blasted. A few feet from the tank a mummified body lay sprawled out, mouth open. Beyond the road was a flat field. Stones and weeds, and bits of broken glass. “There,” Hendricks said. <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> A stone well jutted up, sagging and broken. A few boards lay across it. Most of the well had sunk into rubble. Hendricks walked unsteadily toward it, Tasso beside him. “Are you certain about this?” Tasso said. “This doesn’t look like anything.” “I’m sure.” Hendricks sat down at the edge of the well, his teeth locked. His breath came quickly. He wiped perspiration from his face. “This was arranged so the senior command officer could get away. If anything happened. If the bunker fell.” “That was you?” “Yes.” “Where is the ship? Is it here?” “We’re standing on it.” Hendricks ran his hands over the surface of the well stones. “The eye-lock responds to me, not to anybody else. It’s my ship. Or it was supposed to be.” There was a sharp click. Presently they heard a low grating sound from below them. “Step back,” Hendricks said. He and Tasso moved away from the well. A section of the ground slid back. A metal frame pushed slowly up through the ash, shoving bricks and weeds out of the way. The action ceased, as the ship nosed into view. “There it is,” Hendricks said. The ship was small. It rested quietly, suspended in its mesh frame, like a blunt needle. A rain of ash sifted down into the dark cavity from which the ship had been raised. Hendricks made his way over to it. He mounted the mesh and unscrewed the hatch, pulling it back. Inside the ship the control banks and the pressure seat were visible. <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> Tasso came and stood beside him, gazing into the ship. “I’m not accustomed to rocket piloting,” she said, after awhile. Hendricks glanced at her. “I’ll do the piloting.” “Will you? There’s only one seat, Major. I can see it’s built to carry only a single person.” Hendricks’ breathing changed. He studied the interior of the ship intently. Tasso was right. There was only one seat. The ship was built to carry only one person. “I see,” he said slowly. “And the one person is you.” She nodded. “Of course.” “Why?” “You can’t go. You might not live through the trip. You’re injured. You probably wouldn’t get there.” “An interesting point. But you see, I know where the Moon Base is. And you don’t. You might fly around for months and not find it. It’s well hidden. Without knowing what to look for—” “I’ll have to take my chances. Maybe I won’t find it. Not by myself. But I think you’ll give me all the information I need. Your life depends on it.” “How?” “If I find the Moon Base in time, perhaps I can get them to send a ship back to pick you up. If I find the Base in time. If not, then you haven’t a chance. I imagine there are supplies on the ship. They will last me long enough—” Hendricks moved quickly. But his injured arm betrayed him. Tasso ducked, sliding lithely aside. Her hand came up, lightning fast. Hendricks saw the gun butt coming. He tried to ward off the blow, but she was too fast. The metal butt struck against the side of his head, just above his ear. Numbing pain rushed through him. Pain and rolling clouds of blackness. He sank down, sliding to the ground. <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> Dimly, he was aware that Tasso was standing over him, kicking him with her toe. “Major! Wake up.” He opened his eyes, groaning. “Listen to me.” She bent down, the gun pointed at his face. “I have to hurry. There isn’t much time left. The ship is ready to go, but you must tell me the information I need before I leave.” Hendricks shook his head, trying to clear it. “Hurry up! Where is the Moon Base? How do I find it? What do I look for?” Hendricks said nothing. “Answer me!” “Sorry.” “Major, the ship is loaded with provisions. I can coast for weeks. I’ll find the Base eventually. And in a half hour you’ll be dead. Your only chance of survival—” She broke off. Along the slope, by some crumbling ruins, something moved. Something in the ash. Tasso turned quickly, aiming. She fired. A puff of flame leaped. Something scuttled away, rolling across the ash. She fired again. The claw burst apart, wheels flying. “See?” Tasso said. “A scout. It won’t be long.” “You’ll bring them back here to get me?” “Yes. As soon as possible.” Hendricks looked up at her. He studied her intently. “You’re telling the truth?” A strange expression had come over his face, an avid hunger. “You will come back for me? You’ll get me to the Moon Base?” “I’ll get you to the Moon Base. But tell me where it is! There’s only a little time left.” “All right.” Hendricks picked up a piece of rock, pulling himself to a sitting position. “Watch.” Hendricks began to scratch in the ash. Tasso stood by him, watching the motion of the rock. Hendricks was sketching a crude lunar map. <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> “This is the Appenine range. Here is the Crater of Archimedes. The Moon Base is beyond the end of the Appenine, about two hundred miles. I don’t know exactly where. No one on Terra knows. But when you’re over the Appenine, signal with one red flare and a green flare, followed by two red flares in quick succession. The Base monitor will record your signal. The Base is under the surface, of course. They’ll guide you down with magnetic grapples.” “And the controls? Can I operate them?” “The controls are virtually automatic. All you have to do is give the right signal at the right time.” “I will.” “The seat absorbs most of the take-off shock. Air and temperature are automatically controlled. The ship will leave Terra and pass out into free space. It’ll line itself up with the moon, falling into an orbit around it, about a hundred miles above the surface. The orbit will carry you over the Base. When you’re in the region of the Appenine, release the signal rockets.” Tasso slid into the ship and lowered herself into the pressure seat. The arm locks folded automatically around her. She fingered the controls. “Too bad you’re not going, Major. All this put here for you, and you can’t make the trip.” “Leave me the pistol.” Tasso pulled the pistol from her belt. She held it in her hand, weighing it thoughtfully. “Don’t go too far from this location. It’ll be hard to find you, as it is.” “No. I’ll stay here by the well.” Tasso gripped the take-off switch, running her fingers over the smooth metal. “A beautiful ship, Major. Well built. I admire your workmanship. You people have always done good work. You build fine things. Your work, your creations, are your greatest achievement.” “Give me the pistol,” Hendricks said impatiently, holding out his hand. He struggled to his feet. “Good-bye, Major.” Tasso tossed the pistol past Hendricks. The pistol clattered against the ground, bouncing and rolling away. Hendricks hurried after it. He bent down, snatching it up. The hatch of the ship clanged shut. The bolts fell into place. Hendricks made his way back. The inner door was being sealed. He raised the pistol unsteadily. <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> There was a shattering roar. The ship burst up from its metal cage, fusing the mesh behind it. Hendricks cringed, pulling back. The ship shot up into the rolling clouds of ash, disappearing into the sky. Hendricks stood watching a long time, until even the streamer had dissipated. Nothing stirred. The morning air was chill and silent. He began to walk aimlessly back the way they had come. Better to keep moving around. It would be a long time before help came—if it came at all. He searched his pockets until he found a package of cigarettes. He lit one grimly. They had all wanted cigarettes from him. But cigarettes were scarce. A lizard slithered by him, through the ash. He halted, rigid. The lizard disappeared. Above, the sun rose higher in the sky. Some flies landed on a flat rock to one side of him. Hendricks kicked at them with his foot. It was getting hot. Sweat trickled down his face, into his collar. His mouth was dry. Presently he stopped walking and sat down on some debris. He unfastened his medicine kit and swallowed a few narcotic capsules. He looked around him. Where was he? Something lay ahead. Stretched out on the ground. Silent and unmoving. Hendricks drew his gun quickly. It looked like a man. Then he remembered. It was the remains of Klaus. The Second Variety. Where Tasso had blasted him. He could see wheels and relays and metal parts, strewn around on the ash. Glittering and sparkling in the sunlight. Hendricks got to his feet and walked over. He nudged the inert form with his foot, turning it over a little. He could see the metal hull, the aluminum ribs and struts. More wiring fell out. Like viscera. Heaps of wiring, switches and relays. Endless motors and rods. He bent down. The brain cage had been smashed by the fall. The artificial brain was visible. He gazed at it. A maze of circuits. Miniature tubes. Wires as fine as hair. He touched the brain cage. It swung aside. The type plate was visible. Hendricks studied the plate. And blanched. IV—IV. For a long time he stared at the plate. Fourth Variety. Not the Second. They had been wrong. There were more types. Not just three. Many more, perhaps. At least four. And Klaus wasn’t the Second Variety. But if Klaus wasn’t the Second Variety— Suddenly he tensed. Something was coming, walking through the ash beyond the hill. What was it? He strained to see. Figures. Figures coming slowly along, making their way through the ash. Coming toward him. Hendricks crouched quickly, raising his gun. Sweat dripped down into his eyes. He fought down rising panic, as the figures neared. The first was a David. The David saw him and increased its pace. The others hurried behind it. A second David. A third. Three Davids, all alike, coming toward him silently, without expression, their thin legs rising and falling. Clutching their teddy bears. He aimed and fired. The first two Davids dissolved into particles. The third came on. And the figure behind it. Climbing silently toward him across the gray ash. A Wounded Soldier, towering over the David. And— <hr class="thoughtbreak" /> And behind the Wounded Soldier came two Tassos, walking side by side. Heavy belt, Russian army pants, shirt, long hair. The familiar figure, as he had seen her only a little while before. Sitting in the pressure seat of the ship. Two slim, silent figures, both identical. They were very near. The David bent down suddenly, dropping its teddy bear. The bear raced across the ground. Automatically, Hendricks’ fingers tightened around the trigger. The bear was gone, dissolved into mist. The two Tasso Types moved on, expressionless, walking side by side, through the gray ash. When they were almost to him, Hendricks raised the pistol waist high and fired. The two Tassos dissolved. But already a new group was starting up the rise, five or six Tassos, all identical, a line of them coming rapidly toward him. And he had given her the ship and the signal code. Because of him she was on her way to the moon, to the Moon Base. He had made it possible. He had been right about the bomb, after all. It had been designed with knowledge of the other types, the David Type and the Wounded Soldier Type. And the Klaus Type. Not designed by human beings. It had been designed by one of the underground factories, apart from all human contact. The line of Tassos came up to him. Hendricks braced himself, watching them calmly. The familiar face, the belt, the heavy shirt, the bomb carefully in place. The bomb— As the Tassos reached for him, a last ironic thought drifted through Hendricks’ mind. He felt a little better, thinking about it. The bomb. Made by the Second Variety to destroy the other varieties. Made for that end alone. They were already beginning to design weapons to use against each other. <div id="the_end"> </div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2

Update Required To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.