Test of Fire (1982)

by Ben Bova

  Kobol looked skeptical, but said nothing.

  "All right," Alec said. "We move out tonight. I..."

  "Tonight? In darkness?"

  "Right. We have infrared sensors. The barbarians don't. We can move in darkness. They can't and they won't expect us to. I want a dozen men and one of the laser trucks. We have aerial maps of the region, the road between here and the Oak Ridge complex is clearly marked. We can be there before dawn and surprise any possible defenders."

  Kobol shook his head. "The men won't want to move at night. And those who're left here will be scared even worse, knowing that one-quarter of their strength is off in the dark."

  "Martin, I'm not in here to engage in debates,"

  Alec snapped, getting to his feet. "The men will follow my orders. By this time tomorrow we'll be on our way back home."

  Shrugging, Kobol acquiesced. "You're in charge. I presume you'll want to lead the trek to Oak Ridge yourself."

  "That's right. And I'll want you along too."

  Kobol's shaggy eyebrows rose a centimeter.

  "You don't want to leave me here with the shuttles?"

  "Jameson can hold the airfield," Alec said, almost smiling at him. "I want you with me—to identify the fissionables."

  "Oh. I see." Getting up slowly from his seat, Kobol said, "You know, if you're not careful out in the dark, you could get shot by one of your own men."

  "You're right," Alec replied, keeping his voice even. "I've already thought about that. If it happens to me, though, there's a chance that the same thing could happen to someone else. A better than fair chance, in fact."

  Kobol broke into a toothy grin. "That's about what I would expect."

  "As long as we understand each other," Alec said, unsmiling.

  The night was different.

  It wasn't merely a turning down of the lights. It was dark. And alive.

  Alec rode perched on the front fender of the laser truck, which trundled along quietly carrying the dozen men, including Kobol and himself. The driver, burrowed in the armored cockpit between the fenders, was groping along the winding road using the infrared lights and sensors. Up here in the open night air, all the ancient tales of ghosts and werewolves seemed only too real.

  It's absolute nonsense, Alec told himself.

  But still, there were things out there in the dark.

  Things that croaked and groaned, things that sighed, sudden cries and strange ghostly hootings.

  "Bet that's what they call an owl," said a voice behind Alec.

  The clouds had started to lift just before sundown, giving Alec and his men the most heart- catching sight they had ever seen: an earthly sunset, vibrant with reds and flame-orange that slowly paled to blue, then softest violet, and finally to star-strewn darkness.

  The sky was clear now, and except for their disturbing twinkling, the stars seemed very normal.

  Where the highway swung close to the trees, though, even the stars were blotted out. All that Alec could see were the twisted black branches rustling in the moaning wind, swaying across the faint brightness of the sky. He shuddered, and not merely from the growing chill.

  The truck braked to a stop so suddenly that Alec almost lurched off the fender.

  "What is it?" he whispered urgently into his helmet mike.

  From inside the armored cockpit the driver replied, "Something moved out there."

  "Something? What?"

  "Don't know. It threw off enough heat to register on the scope. Big as a man. Maybe more than one."

  Alec swiftly considered the alternatives. "All right. We're not going to stop. All you troopers get off the truck and walk alongside. If you see movement, tell me on the intercom. Don't fire unless fired upon. Joe, keep the truck apace with us on foot. Let me know what you see on that 'scope."

  "Right."

  The ride down the broken, abandoned highway slowed to a walk, a crawl. Alec hefted his machine pistol and snapped its wire stock into place, so he could rest the base against his hip. He walked a few paces out in front of the truck, well off to the right shoulder of the highway. The road was broad enough for several trucks to pass side by side. But the brush and trees came right up to the edge of the cement and even invaded the cracks in the paving. An army could hide in here, Alec knew.

  But he saw nothing.

  "Something up ahead!" the driver's voice sounded shrilly in his earphones.

  "I saw something!" a trooper agreed excitedly.

  "It went across the road from left to right. Fast."

  Alec said, "Gunner—spray the right shoulder of the highway . . . how far up ahead, Joe?"

  "About fifty meters, I'd say."

  "Fifty meters, gunner."

  The truck stopped. The low hum of its electric motors was replaced by the high-pitched whine of the special generator that drove the laser. In the darkness Alec could barely make out the oval metal mirror of the laser as it turned slightly in his direction, catching a glint of starlight on its polished copper surface.

  Then the whine rose to a harsh crescendo and the woods some fifty meters ahead burst into sudden flame. It sounded like a dull whooshing explosion, then a roaring crackle, as the invisible laser beam poured infrared energy into the brush.

  In the lurid light of the flames two large animals leaped onto the highway and bounded across it and into the brush on the other side. They were four-footed, with graceful slim legs.

  "Deer," someone said disgustedly.

  "Deers have horns on 'em."

  "Not all the time!"

  "Cease firing," Alec commanded.

  The flames disappeared as abruptly as they had sprung up, leaving a patch of dull red embers at the side of the road. Alec smelled an oddly pleasing odor. It made him want to cough, yet it touched a cord so deep inside him that he had never known it was there. Burning wood? Why should it smell so good?

  With a shake of his head, he ordered, "All right, everybody back on the truck. If there were any people there, they've taken off by now."

  Kobol climbed back up on the left front fender with a grunt, then said loudly enough for everyone to hear, "Well, there's your ambush—two scared deer."

  They all laughed as the truck started up again.

  But Alec couldn't help thinking, He's out there.

  Somewhere he's out there waiting for us. And he's not alone.

  He checked with Ron Jameson back at the airport twice over the next few hours. No activity there; a quiet night with no movement. The men were sleeping in relays.

  Alec found that his own men were dozing off as they rode, clinging to various parts of the truck, sprawling wherever they could find enough flat surface. He took over the driving himself, after his second call to Jameson, and let the driver catch a nap on the fender. Even Kobol seemed to be drowsing, chin on chest, head bobbing gently as they drove.

  In the infrared scope before him, the highway showed clearly as a band of orange stretching out ahead, crisscrossed by cracks and breaks. The foliage to either side was pink, except for a small scurrying animal here and there, which showed a bright red.

  "Who's on the gun?" Alec asked softly into his helmet mike.

  "Gianelli."

  "You wide awake?"

  "Depend on it. Got my IR goggles on—they're so damned heavy they're giving me a headache. I couldn't fall asleep if I wanted to."

  "Good."

  "Glad to hear you're worrying about me, chief."

  Alec grinned to himself. "You just keep a sharp eye out, especially to our rear. I'm watching up front."

  "Right. I've been doing that. Nothing moving except a few more deer."

  "You're sure they're deer?"

  Gianelli laughed softly. "Unless men bounce across the road on all fours."

  "All right."

  Alec was still driving when they topped a rise and the heat-radiating buildings of the Oak Ridge complex came into view on his scope. Almost automatically he slowed the truck to a gradual, gentle stop. Then he glanced at his wri
stwatch. The Sun will be up in another hour and a half.

  For a moment he debated waking the sleeping men. Instead, he fished in the pouch at his belt for a stimulant capsule and swallowed it dry, with a hard gulp. Then he swung the overhead cockpit hatch open.

  Climbing out into the breeze-murmuring night, he stood on the top deck of the truck and stretched his cramped arms and legs. Sleeping bodies sprawled everywhere, barely visible in the darkness.

  Another weird hooting sound floated out from the woods, sending a shiver along Alec's spine.

  Stepping over one of the dozing men, he reached the laser gun mount. "Gianelli?" he whispered.

  "Yeah."

  "Take a nap. I'll stand watch."

  Gianelli did not argue. Alec climbed into the gunner's jumpseat and silently took the infrared goggles from his hand. The laser was humming softly, set on wide-beam scan, acting as a searchlight instead of a weapon.

  The goggles were heavy. Alec had to make a conscious effort to keep his head erect as he slowly swung the gun mount around in a complete circle. The faint whine of the drive motors sounded almost comforting against the strange night noises from beyond the truck.

  The trees appeared ghostly white in the goggles, the concrete buildings of the complex down in the valley below were a hotter shade of orange. The buildings were set out in an open area, with the closest trees many meters away. The land around the buildings looked dark, lifeless. Maybe some grass, but not much else.

  As Alec swung the laser around slowly, scanning in a complete circle around the truck, he began to get the uncanny feeling that someone was watching him. At first it was nothing more than a vague uneasiness. But gradually the feeling grew, became a prickling along his spine, a cold fear pressing into the back of his neck.

  Maybe I should wake a few of the men, he thought. Then he answered himself, No! You're just nervous. Scared to be out here alone.

  Clenching his teeth, he continued to turn the gun mount slowly, feeling colder every minute.

  Straight ahead was the road and down on the valley floor, the buildings. Turn and the trees came up, closer, closer, mysterious white branches reaching out toward you, grasping, lifting themselves up into the sky. Keep turning, the road again, the trail back to the airport, the shuttles, safety. Then the trees again, and finally the buildings.

  What if he's out there? Does he have IR detectors?

  Goggles? If he does, then we're sitting here like a beacon, a big fat bright target.

  Abruptly, Alec kicked on the foot pedals to reverse the mount's rotation. The electric motors shrilled for an instant, the mount jerked, then swung in the opposite direction.

  There! In the trees!

  It was gone before he could be sure of what it was. Hot spots, several of them in among the trees.

  They vanished from his field of view just as the laser beam exposed them.

  Animals, he told himself. But are animals sensitive to infrared illumination?

  He glanced at his wristwatch. Still an hour before sunrise, but already the sky beyond the Oak Ridge buildings was beginning to pale. Could our sunrise times be wrong? Then, remembering the lingering beauty of the previous night's sunset, and the briefings he had received from Dr. Lord on terrestrial atmospheric effects, Alec realized that the daylight actually started before the Sun itself appeared above the horizon.

  For a tense fifteen minutes he continued to scan around the truck, moving the beam back and forth randomly, trying to avoid a predictable pattern.

  He saw nothing. Then it was light enough to snap off the laser and remove the heavy goggles.

  A couple of men stirred as the light grew brighter. Alec didn't know which made him feel better, the fact that he was no longer alone, or the end of the dark, threatening night.

  They made their way toward the buildings in good order, Alec walking up front on the right point, Kobol taking the three-man rear guard position, the truck in the middle of the spread-out formation of armed, wary men.

  The ground around the buildings was barren.

  Scrub grass straggled here and there in thin patches. Large stretches of ground immediately outside the buildings were bare, broken cement and blacktop. There were some areas of gravel, as well, Alec saw.

  As they approached the buildings, Alec beg&n to understand why Kobol had volunteered for the rear guard. He was the only man who had been here before, the only one who knew the area. Alec wanted to ask Kobol if the buildings looked the same, but to do that he would have to bring Kobol up to the point position with him. In front of the men, he would have to show that Kobol was the man who knew what's what.

  Screw that! Alec paced steadily toward the lifeless, gaping buildings, gripping his machine pistol in his right hand, feeling the welcome pressure of its strap riding firmly on his shoulder.

  It was a longer walk than he had anticipated.

  The morning was deathly quiet. No breeze. No bird songs reached them from the distant trees.

  The Sun was barely over the crest of the hills, yet already it was much hotter than the previous day had been. Does the heat come from the buildings?

  Alec wondered. Fears about radioactivity sifted through his thoughts. But he kept marching steadily, glancing back at his men and the trundling laser truck only occasionally.

  When they reached the edge of the cement walkways that surrounded the buildings he called a halt. Faint dark streaks and strains mottled the walls.

  "Stop the truck here, where it can cover the whole area. Form up in front of the truck."

  Kobol limped up to him, thin chest and underarms of his coveralls dark with sweat. He looked slightly foolish with the heavy helmet clamped bulbously over his head.

  "What do you think?" Alec asked, gesturing toward the buildings with his pistol.

  Kobol hiked his shaggy brows enough to make them disappear inside the helmet. "It's been a long time since I was here. But everything looks pretty much the same."

  "That's the main entrance, isn't it?"

  Kobol nodded.

  "All right. Gianelli, take two men and follow us. The rest of you stay here and stay alert. Keep a sharp watch all around."

  The five of them walked slowly toward the building, tension mounting with each step. Alec could see that the windows gaped emptily, they had been shattered long ago. The doors were gone too, and the walls were streaked with the sooty reminders of old fires. The interior of the building was completely in shadow.

  He could feel his heart hammering as they climbed the steps to the open, dark doorway. His hand felt slippery on the gun's handle, but inside himself Alec felt cold, not hot.

  The interior of the building was littered with broken shards of cement, plaster, dried leaves and debris. The room was large and bare, stripped of everything except the litter on the floor.

  "Reception area," Kobol said. " Everything in here was looted or burned long ago."

  A sudden fear struck Alec. "The fissionables?"

  Kobol laughed bitterly. "Don't worry. They're too hard to get at, even if the barbarians knew what they were and wanted them. Which they don't. There are all sorts of legends and taboos about radioactive material. They're scared to death of the stuff."

  They walked through an empty, desolate building. The rooms were huge, but blackened, charred. Most of the roofs were gone, and the still climbing Sun lit their way through the moldering shambles. Nothing stood except a few sagging partitions.

  No sign that human beings had ever occupied the area. Everything caked thick with grime; here and there the tracks of small animals.

  Kobol pointed to some dried grass wedged into a crack high up on a cement wall.

  "Bird's nest," he said.

  "Creepy," said Gianelli in a low, awed voice.

  "The barbarians took everything they could from this building," Kobol explained needlessly, "and burned the rest."

  They reached a metal door that opened onto a long tunnel ribbed with I-beams.

  "This is the connector tunn
el between the main administrative building, here, and one of the processing plants. That's where they produced the fissionables from low-grade natural ores."

  Kobol's lecturing voice twanged irritatingly off the metal walls of the tunnel as they walked through it. "You'll see plenty of heavy equipment in the next building, and beyond that are the storage vaults."

  They opened the door at the end of the tunnel.

  The room was huge, vaster than any enclosure Alec had ever seen. Sunlight filtered down slantingly through the shattered roof. It was eerie and still.

  And empty.

  The giant processing building had been looted even more thoroughly than the administration area. Nothing remained except the bare walls and a few dust motes drifting through the shafts of sunlight.

  Kobol's jaw fell open.

  "There's nothing here!" Alec said.

  "It's been cleaned out." Kobol's voice was strained, shocked.

  "The fissionables!"

  They ran, the five of them. Kobol in the lead, they raced across the huge empty room, boots clumping dully on the cement floor. To Alec it was like a nightmare, running endlessly across the barren, torn-up expanse, this giant cement box they were trapped in. He ran as hard as he could but seemed to be getting no closer to the far end of the one-room building and the metal door that they had to reach. Almost subliminaly, Alec noticed that the floor was studded with metal fixtures where equipment had once been bolted down to the solid cement. The fixtures looked bright and clean; the equipment had been removed only recently.

  They dashed, gasping, up to the heavy metal door. It was slightly ajar.

  "The vaults . . ." Kobol puffed, wide-eyed, as he strained to swing the door open. Alec and Gianelli leaned into it, helping him.

  The room on the other side was small, barely big enough to allow the five of them to squeeze in. It was lined with dull gray metal. Three walls were filled with box-sized compartments, like metal bookshelves, but with many thick separations along each shelf.

  "Empty!"

  Kobol was panting hard, his face white. "No . . . barbarians . . . did this."

  Alec turned to face him.

  "Only one man . . . knew what . . . the fissionables were worth" Kobol said. "Your father."