XIII
"He wouldn't come in, sir. Just hammered on the door and said, _I'mhere, tell Brandd_."
"Good enough," Brion said, seating his gun in the holster and slidingthe extra clips into his pocket. "I'm going out now, and I should returnbefore dawn. Get one of the wheeled stretchers down here from thehospital. I'll want it waiting when I get back."
Outside the street was darker than he remembered. Brion frowned and hishand moved towards his gun. Someone had put all the nearby lights out ofcommission. There was just enough illumination from the stars to enablehim to make out the dark bulk of a sandcar.
The motor roared as soon as he had closed the door. Without lights thesandcar churned a path through the city and out into the desert. Thoughthe speed picked up, the driver still drove in the dark, feeling his waywith a light touch on the controls. The ground rose, and when theyreached the top of a flat mesa he killed the engine. Neither the drivernor Brion had spoken a word since they left.
A switch snapped and the instrument lights came on. In their dim glowBrion could just make out the other man's hawklike profile. When hemoved Brion saw that his figure was cruelly shortened. Either accidentor a mutated gene had warped his spine, hunching him forward ineternally bent supplication. Warped bodies are rare--his was the firstBrion had ever seen. He wondered what series of events had kept him frommedical attention all his life. This might explain the bitterness andpain in the man's voice.
"Did the mighty brains on Nyjord bother to tell you that they havechopped another day off the deadline? That this world is about to cometo an end?"
"Yes, I know," Brion said. "That's why I'm asking your group for help.Our time is running out too fast."
The man didn't answer, merely grunted and gave his full attention to theradar pings and glowing screen. The electronic senses reached out as hemade a check on all the search frequencies to see if they were beingfollowed.
"Where are we going?" Brion asked.
"Out into the desert," the driver made a vague wave of his hand."Headquarters of the army. Since the whole thing will be blown up inanother day, I guess I can tell you it's the only camp we have. All thecars, men and weapons are based there. And Hys. He's the man in charge.Tomorrow it will be all gone--along with this cursed planet. What's yourbusiness with us?"
"Shouldn't I be telling Hys that?"
"Suit yourself." Satisfied with the instrument search the driver kickedthe car to life again and churned on across the desert. "But we're avolunteer army and we have no secrets from each other. Just from thefools at home who are going to kill this world." There was a bitternessin his words that he made no attempt to conceal. "They fought amongthemselves and put off a firm decision so long that now they are forcedto commit murder."
"From what I had heard, I thought that it was the other way around. Theycall your Nyjord Army terrorists."
"We are. Because we are an army and we're at war. The idealists at homeonly understood that when it was too late. If they had backed us in thebeginning, we would have blown open every black castle on Dis--searcheduntil we found those bombs. But that would have meant wanton destructionand death. They wouldn't consider that. Now they are going to killeveryone, destroy everything." He flicked on the panel lights just longenough to take a compass bearing, and Brion saw the tortured unhappinessin his twisted body.
"It's not over yet," Brion said. "There is more than a day left, and Ithink I'm onto something that might stop the war--without any bombsbeing dropped."
"You're in charge of the Cultural Relationships Free Bread and BlanketsFoundation, aren't you? What good can your bunch do when the shootingstarts?"
"None. But maybe we can put off the shooting. If you are trying toinsult me--don't bother. My irritation quotient is very high."
The driver just grunted at this, slowing down as they ran through afield of broken rock. "What is it you want?" he asked.
"We want to make a detailed examination of one of the magter. Alive ordead, it doesn't make any difference. You wouldn't happen to have onearound?"
"No. We've fought with them often enough, but always on their homegrounds. They keep all their casualties, and a good number of ours. Whatgood will it do you anyway? A dead one won't tell you where the bombs orthe jump-space projector is."
"I don't see why I should explain that to you--unless you are in charge.You are Hys, aren't you?"
* * * * *
The driver grunted angrily and was silent while he drove. Finally heasked, "What makes you think that?"
"Call it a hunch. You don't act very much like a sandcar driver for onething. Of course your army may be all generals and no privates--but Idoubt it. I also know that time has almost run out for all of us. Thisis a long ride and it would be a complete waste of time if you just satout in the desert and waited for me. By driving me yourself you couldmake your mind up before we arrived. Have a decision ready whether youare going to help me or not. Are you?"
"Yes--I'm Hys. But you still haven't answered my question. What do youwant the body for?"
"We're going to cut it open and take a good long look. I don't think themagter are human. They are something living among men and disguised asmen--but still not human."
"Secret aliens?" Hys exploded the words in a mixture of surprise anddisgust.
"Perhaps. The examination will tell us that."
"You're either stupid or incompetent," Hys said bitterly. "The heat ofDis has cooked your brains in your head. I'll be no part of this kind ofabsurd plan."
"You must," Brion said, surprised at his own calmness. He could sensethe other man's interest hidden behind his insulting manner. "I don'teven have to give you my reasons. In another day this world ends and youhave no way to stop it. I just might have an idea that could work andyou can't afford to take any chances--not if you are really sincere.Either you are a murderer, killing Disans for pleasure, or you honestlywant to stop the war. Which is it?"
"You'll have your body all right," Hys grated, hurling the car viciouslyaround a spire of rock. "Not that it will accomplish anything--but I canfind no fault in killing another magter. We can fit your operation intoour plans without any trouble. This is the last night and I have sentevery one of my teams out on raids. We're breaking into as many magtertowers as possible before dawn. There is a slim chance that we mightuncover something. It's really just shooting in the dark, but it's allwe can do now. My own team is waiting and you can ride along with us.The others left earlier. We're going to hit a small tower on this sideof the city. We raided it once before and captured a lot of small armsthat they had stored there. There is a good chance that they may havebeen stupid enough to store something there again. Sometimes the magterseem to suffer from a complete lack of imagination."
"You have no idea just how right you are," Brion told him.
The sandcar slowed down now, as they approached a slab-sided mesa thatrose vertically from the desert. They crunched across broken rocks,leaving no tracks. A light blinked on the dashboard and Hys stoppedinstantly and killed the engine. They climbed out, stretching andshivering in the cold desert night.
It was dark walking in the shadow of the cliff and they had to feeltheir way along a path through the tumbled boulders. A sudden blaze oflight made Brion wince and shield his eyes. Near him, on the ground, wasthe humming shape of a cancellation projector, sending out a fan-shapedcurtain of vibration that absorbed all the light rays falling upon it.This incredible blackness made a lightproof wall for the recessed hollowat the foot of the cliff. In this shelter, under the overhang of rock,were three open sandcars. They were large and armor-plated, warlike intheir scarred gray paint. Men sprawled, talked and polished theirweapons. Everything stopped when Hys and Brion appeared.
"Load up," Hys called out. "We're going to attack now, same plan Ioutlined earlier. Get Telt over here." Talking to his own men some ofthe harshness was gone from his voice. The tall soldiers of Nyjordmoved in ready obedience to the commander. They loomed over his b
entfigure, most of them twice as tall as him. Yet there was no hesitationin jumping when he commanded. They were the body of the Nyjord strikingforce--he was the brains.
A square-cut, compact man rolled up to Hys and saluted with a leisurelyflick of his hand. He was weighted and slung about with packs andelectronic instruments. His pockets bulged with small tools.
"This is Telt," Hys said to Brion, "he'll take care of you. Telt's mypersonal technical squad. Goes along on all my operations with hismeters to test the interiors of the Disan forts. So far he's found notrace of a jump-space generator, or excess radioactivity that mightindicate a bomb. Since he's useless and you're useless, you can bothtake care of each other. Use the car we came in."
Telt's wide face split in a frog-like grin, his voice was hoarse andthroaty. "Wait! Just wait! Some day those needles gonna flicker and allour troubles be over. What you want me to do with the stranger?"
"Supply him with a corpse--one of the magter," Hys said. "Take it wherehe wants and then report back here." Hys scowled at Telt. "Some day yourneedles will flicker! Poor fool--this is the last day." He turned awayand waved the men into their sandcars.
"He likes me," Telt said, attaching a final piece of equipment. "You cantell because he calls me names like that. He's a great man, Hys is, butthey never found out until it was too late. Hand me that meter, willyou?"
* * * * *
Brion followed the technician out to the car and helped him load hisequipment aboard. When the larger cars appeared out of the darkness,Telt swung around after them. They snaked forward in a single linethrough the rocks, until they came to the desert of rolling sand dunes.Then they spread out in line abreast and rushed towards their goal.
Telt hummed to himself hoarsely as he drove. He broke off suddenly andlooked at Brion. "What you want the dead Dis for?"
"A theory," Brion answered sluggishly. He had been half napping in thechair, taking the opportunity for some rest before the attack. "I'mstill looking for a way to avert the end."
"You and Hys," Telt said with satisfaction. "Couple of idealists. Tryingto stop a war you didn't start. They never would listen to Hys. He toldthem in the beginning exactly what would happen, and he was right. Theyalways thought his ideas were crooked, like him. Growing up alone in thehill camp, with his back too twisted and too old to be fixed when hefinally did come out. Ideas twisted the same way. Made himself anauthority on war. Hah! War on Nyjord. That's like being an icecubespecialist in hell. But he knew all about it, but they never would lethim use what he knew. Put granddaddy Krafft in charge instead."
"But Hys is in charge of an army now?"
"All volunteers, too few of them and too little money. Too little andtoo damned late to do any good. I'll never be good enough. And for thiswe get called butchers." There was a catch in Telt's voice now, anundercurrent of emotion he couldn't suppress. "At home they think welike to kill. Think we're insane. They can't understand we're doing theonly thing that has to be done--" He broke off as he quickly locked onthe brakes and killed the engine. The line of sandcars had come to astop. Ahead, just visible over the dunes, was the summit of a darktower.
"We walk from here," Telt said, standing and stretching. "We can takeour time because the other boys go in first, soften things up. Then youand I head for the sub-cellar for a radiation check and find you ahandsome corpse."
Walking at first, then crawling when the dunes no longer shielded them,they crept up on the Disan keep. Dark figures moved ahead of them,stopping only when they reached the crumbling black walls. They didn'tuse the ascending ramp, but made their way up the sheer outside face ofthe ramparts.
"Linethrowers," Telt whispered. "Anchor themselves when the missilehits, have some kind of quicksetting goo. Then we go up the filamentwith a line-climbing motor. Hys invented them."
"Is that the way you and I are going in?" Brion asked.
"No, we get out of the climbing. I told you we hit this rock oncebefore. I know the layout inside." He was moving while he talked,carefully pacing the distance around the base of the tower. "Should beright about here."
High-pitched keening sliced the air and the top of the magter buildingburst into flame. Automatic weapons hammered above them. Something fellsilently through the night and hit heavily on the ground near them.
"Attack's started," Telt shouted. "We have to get through now, while allthe creepies are fighting it out on top." He pulled a plate-shapedobject from one of his bags and slapped it hard against the wall. Ithung there. He twisted the back of it, pulled something and waved Brionto the ground. "Shaped charge. Should blow straight in, but you nevercan tell."
The ground jumped under them and the ringing thud was a giant fistpunching through the wall. A cloud of dust and smoke rolled clear andthey could see the dark opening in the rock, a tunnel driven into thewall by the directional force of the explosion. Telt shone a lightthrough the hole at the crumbled chamber inside.
"Nothing to worry about from anybody who was leaning against this wall.But let's get in and out of this black beehive before the ones upstairscome down to investigate."
Shattered rock was thick on the floor, and they skidded and tumbled overit. Telt pointed the way with his light, down a sharply angled ramp."Underground chambers in the rock. They always store their stuff downthere--"
A smoking, black sphere arced out of the tunnel's mouth, hitting attheir feet. Telt just gaped, but even as it hit the floor Brion wasjumping forward. He caught it with the side of his foot, kicking it backinto the dark opening of the tunnel. Telt hit the ground next to him asthe orange flame of an explosion burst below. Bits of shrapnel rattledfrom the ceiling and wall behind them.
"Grenades!" Telt gasped. "They only used them once before--can't havemany. Gotta warn Hys." He plugged a throat mike into the transmitter onhis back and spoke quickly into it. There was a stirring below and Brionpoured a rain of fire into the tunnel.
"They're catching it bad on top, too! We gotta pull out. Go first andI'll cover you."
"I came for my Disan--I'm not leaving until I get one."
"You're crazy! You're dead if you stay!"
* * * * *
Telt was scrambling back towards their crumbled entrance as he talked.His back was turned when Brion fired. The magter appeared silently asthe shadow of death. They charged without a sound, running withexpressionless faces into the bullets. Two died at once, curling andfolding, the third one fell at Brion's feet. Shot, pierced, dying, butnot yet dead. Leaving a crimson track it hunched closer, lifting itsknife to Brion. He didn't move. How many times must you murder a man?Or was it a man. His mind and body rebelled against the killing and wasalmost ready to accept death himself, rather than kill again.
Telt's bullets tore through the body and it dropped with grim finality.
"There's your corpse--now get it out of here!" Telt screeched.
Between them they worked the sodden weight of the dead magter throughthe hole, their exposed backs crawling with the expectation of instantdeath. There were no more attacks as they ran from the tower, other thana grenade that exploded too far behind them to do any harm.
One of the armored sandcars circled the keep, headlights blazing,keeping up a steady fire from its heavy weapons. The attackers climbedinto it as they beat a retreat. Telt and Brion dragged the Disan behindthem, struggling through the loose sand toward the circling car. Teltglanced over his shoulder and broke into a shambling run.
"They're following us--!" he gasped. "The first time they ever chased usafter a raid!"
"They must know we have the body," Brion said.
"Leave it behind--!" Telt choked. "Too heavy to carry ... anyway!"
"I'd rather leave you," Brion snapped. "Let me have it." He pulled thecorpse away from the unresisting Telt and heaved it across hisshoulders. "Now use your gun to cover us!"
Telt threw a rain of slugs back towards the dark figures followingthem. The driver must have seen the flare of their fire
, because thetruck turned and started towards them. It braked in a choking cloud ofdust and ready hands reached to pull them up. Brion pushed the body inahead of himself and scrambled after it. The truck engine throbbed andthey churned away into the blackness, away from the gutted tower.
"You know, that was more like kind of a joke, when I said I'd leave thecorpse behind," Telt told Brion. "You didn't believe me, did you?"
"Yes," Brion said, holding the dead weight of the magter against thetruck's side. "I thought you meant it."
"Ahhh--" Telt grumbled. "You're as bad as Hys. Take things tooseriously."
Brion suddenly realized that he was wet with blood, his clothing sodden.His stomach rose at the thought and he clutched the edge of the sandcar.Killing like this was too personal. Talking abstractedly about a bodywas one thing. But murdering a man, then lifting his dead flesh andfeeling his blood warm upon you is an entirely different matter. Yet themagter weren't human, he knew that. The thought was only mildlycomforting.
* * * * *
After they had reached the rest of the waiting sandcars, the raidingparty split up. "Each one goes in a different direction," Telt said, "sothey can't track us to the base." He clipped a piece of paper next tothe compass and kicked the motor into life. "We'll make a big _U_ in thedesert and end up in Hovedstad, I got the course here. Then I'll dumpyou and your friend and beat it back to our camp. You're not stillburned at me for what I said, are you? Are you?"
Brion didn't answer. He was staring fixedly out of the side window."What's doing?" Telt asked. Brion pointed out at the rushing darkness.
"Over there," he said, pointing to the growing light on the horizon.
"Dawn," Telt said. "Lotta rain on your planet? Didn't you ever see thesun come up before?"
"Not on the last day of a world."
"Lock it up," Telt grumbled. "You give me the crawls. I know they'regoing to be blasted. But at least I know I did everything I could tostop it. How do you think they are going to be feeling at home--onNyjord--from tomorrow on?"
"Maybe we can still stop it?" Brion said, shrugging off the feeling ofgloom, Telt's only answer was a wordless sound of disgust.
By the time they had cut a large loop in the desert the sun was high inthe sky, the daily heat begun. Their course took them through a chain oflow, flinty hills that cut their speed almost to zero. They ground aheadin low gear while Telt sweated and cursed, struggling with the controls.Then they were on firm sand and picking up speed towards the city.
As soon as Brion saw Hovedstad clearly he felt a clutch of fear. Fromsomewhere in the city a black plume of smoke was rising. It could havebeen one of the deserted buildings aflame, a minor blaze. Yet the closerthey came, the greater the tension grew. Brion didn't dare put it intowords himself, it was Telt who vocalized the thought.
"A fire or something. Coming from your area, somewhere close to yourbuilding."
Within the city they saw the first signs of destruction. Broken rubbleon the streets. The smell of greasy smoke in their nostrils. More andmore people appeared, going in the same direction they were. Thenormally deserted streets of Hovedstad were now almost crowded. Disans,obvious by their bare shoulders, mixed with the few offworlders whostill remained.
Brion made sure the tarpaulin was well wrapped around the body beforethey pushed slowly through the growing crowd.
"I don't like all this publicity," Telt complained, looking at thepeople. "It's the last day, or I'd be turning back. They know our cars,we've raided them often enough." Turning a corner he braked suddenly.
Ahead was destruction. Black, broken rubble had been churned intodesolation. It was still smoking, pink tongues of flame licking over theruins. A fragment of wall fell with a rumbling crash.
"It's your building--the Foundation building!" Telt shouted. "They'vebeen here ahead of us, must have used the radio to call a raid. They dida job, explosive of some kind."
Hope was dead. Dis was dead. In the ruin ahead, mixed and broken withthe other rubble, were the bodies of all the people who had trusted him.Lea. Beautiful and cruelly dead Lea. Dr. Stine, his patients, Faussel,all of them. He had kept them on this planet and now they were dead.Every one of them. Dead.
Murderer!
Illustrated by van Dongen]
Sense of Obligation Page 13