XIII
"He wouldn't come in, sir. Just hammered on the door and said,'_I'm here, tell Brandd._'"
"Good enough," Brion said, fitting his gun in the holster andsliding the extra clips into his pocket. "I'm going out now, and Ishould return before dawn. Get one of the wheeled stretchers downhere from the hospital. I'll want it waiting when I get back."
Outside, the street was darker than he remembered. Brion frownedand his hand moved towards his gun. Someone had put all the nearbylights out of commission. There was just enough illumination fromthe stars to enable him to make out the dark bulk of a sand car.
"Brion Brandd?" a voice spoke harshly from the car. "Get in."
The motor roared as soon as he had closed the door. Without lightsthe sand car churned a path through the city and out into thedesert. Though the speed picked up, the driver still drove in thedark, feeling his way with a light touch on the controls. The groundrose, and when they reached the top of a mesa he killed the engine.Neither the driver nor Brion had spoken a word since they left.
A switch snapped and the instrument lights came on. In their dimglow Brion could just make out the other man's hawklike profile.When he moved, Brion saw that his figure was cruelly shortened.Either accident or a mutated gene had warped his spine, hunching himforward in eternally bent supplication. Warped bodies were rare--hiswas the first Brion had ever seen. He wondered what series of eventshad kept him from medical attention all his life. This might explainthe bitterness and pain in the man's voice.
"Did the mighty brains on Nyjord bother to tell you that they havechopped another day off the deadline?" the man asked. "That thisworld is about to come to an end?"
"Yes, I know," Brion said. "That's why I'm asking your group forhelp. Our time is running out too fast."
The man didn't answer; he merely grunted and gave his full attentionto the radar pings and glowing screen. The electronic senses reachedout as he made a check on all the search frequencies to see if theywere being followed.
"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. Allthe cars, men and weapons are based there. And Hys. He's the man incharge. Tomorrow it will be all gone--along with this cursed planet.What's your business with us?"
"Shouldn't I be telling Hys that?"
"Suit yourself." Satisfied with the instrument search, the driverkicked the car to life again and churned on across the desert. "Butwe're a volunteer army and we have no secrets from each other. Justfrom the fools at home who are going to kill this world." There wasa bitterness in his words that he made no attempt to conceal. "Theyfought among themselves and put off a firm decision so long that nowthey are forced to commit murder."
"From what I had heard, I thought that it was the other way around.They call your Nyjord army terrorists."
"We are. Because we are an army and we're at war. The idealists athome only understood that when it was too late. If they had backedus in the beginning we would have blown open every black castle onDis, searched until we found those bombs. But that would have meantwanton destruction and death. They wouldn't consider that. Now theyare going to kill everyone, destroy everything." He flicked on thepanel lights just long enough to take a compass bearing, and Brionsaw the tortured unhappiness in his twisted body.
"It's not over yet," Brion said. "There is more than a day left,and I think I'm onto something that might stop the war--withoutany bombs being dropped."
"You're in charge of the Cultural Relationships Free Bread andBlankets Foundation, aren't you? What good can your bunch do whenthe shooting starts?"
"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 merely grunted at this, slowing down as they ran througha field of broken rock. "What is it you want?" he asked.
"We want to make a detailed examination of one of the magter. Aliveor dead, it doesn't make any difference. You wouldn't happen to haveone around?"
"No. We've fought with them often enough, but always on their homegrounds. They keep all their casualties, and a good number of ours.What good will it do you anyway? A dead one won't tell you where thebombs or the jump-space projector is."
"I don't see why I should explain that to you--unless you are incharge. You are Hys, aren't you?"
The driver gave an angry sound, and then was silent while he drove.Finally he asked, "What makes you think that?"
"Call it a hunch. You don't act very much like a sand-car driver,for one thing. Of course your army may be all generals and noprivates--but I doubt it. I also know that time has almost run outfor all of us. This is a long ride and it would be a complete wasteof time if you just sat out in the desert and waited for me. Bydriving me yourself you could make your mind up before we arrived.Could have a decision ready as to whether you are going to help meor not. Are you?"
"Yes--I'm Hys. But you still haven't answered my question. What doyou want the body for?"
"We're going to cut it open and take a good long look. I don't thinkthe magter are human. They are something living among men anddisguised as men--but still not human."
"Secret aliens?" Hys exploded the words in a mixture of surpriseand disgust.
"Perhaps. The examination will tell us that."
"You're either stupid or incompetent," Hys said bitterly. "The heatof Dis has cooked your brains in your head. I'll be no part of thiskind of absurd plan."
"You must," Brion said, surprised at his own calmness. He couldsense the other man's interest hidden behind his insulting manner."I don't even have to give you my reasons. In another day this worldends and you have no way to stop it. I just might have an idea thatcould work, and you can't afford to take any chances--not if you arereally sincere. Either you are a murderer, killing Disans forpleasure, or you honestly want to stop the war. Which is it?"
"You'll have your body all right," Hys grated, hurling the carviciously around a spire of rock. "Not that it will accomplishanything--but I can find no fault with killing another magter. Wecan fit your operation into our plans without any trouble. This isthe last night and I have sent every one of my teams out on raids.We're breaking into as many magter towers as possible before dawn.There is a slim chance that we might uncover something. It's reallyjust shooting in the dark, but it's all we can do now. My own teamis waiting and you can ride along with us. The others left earlier.We're going to hit a small tower on this side of the city. We raidedit once before and captured a lot of small arms they had storedthere. There is a good chance that they may have been stupid enoughto store something there again. Sometimes the magter seem to sufferfrom a complete lack of imagination."
"You have no idea just how right you are," Brion told him.
The sand car slowed down now, as they approached a slab-sided mesathat rose vertically from the desert. They crunched across brokenrocks, leaving no tracks. A light blinked on the dashboard, and Hysstopped instantly and killed the engine. They climbed out,stretching and shivering 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 blazeof light made Brion wince and shield his eyes. Near him, on theground, was the humming shape of a cancellation projector, sendingout a fan-shaped curtain of vibration that absorbed all the lightrays falling upon it. This incredible blackness made a lightproofwall for the recessed hollow at the foot of the cliff. In thisshelter, under the overhang of rock, were three open sand cars. Theywere large and armor-plated, warlike in their scarred grey paint.Men sprawled, talked, and polished their weapons. Everything stoppedwhen Hys and Brion appeared.
"Load up," Hys called out. "We're going to attack now, same plan Ioutlined earlier. Get Telt over here." In talking to his own mensome of the harshness was gone from his voice. The tall soldiers ofN
yjord moved in ready obeyance of their commander. They loomed overhis bent figure, most of them twice as tall as he, but there was nohesitation in jumping when he commanded. They were the body of theNyjord striking force--he was the brains.
A square-cut, compact man rolled up to Hys and saluted with aleisurely flick of his hand. He was weighted and slung about withpacks and electronic instruments. His pockets bulged with smalltools and spare parts.
"This is Telt," Hys said to Brion. "He'll take care of you. Telt'smy personal technical squad. He goes along on all my operations withhis meters to test the interiors of the Disan forts. So far he'sfound no trace of a jump-space generator, or excess radioactivitythat might indicate a bomb. Since he's useless and you're useless,you both take care of each other. Use the car we came in."
Telt's wide face split in a froglike grin; his voice was hoarse andthroaty. "Wait. Just wait! Someday those needles gonna flicker andall our troubles be over. What you want me to do with the stranger?"
"Supply him with a corpse--one of the magter," Hys said. "Take itwherever he wants and then report back here." Hys scowled at Telt."Someday your needles will flicker! Poor fool--this is the lastday." He turned away and waved the men into their sand cars.
"He likes me," Telt said, attaching a final piece of equipment."You can tell because he calls me names like that. He's a great man,Hys is, but they never found out until it was too late. Hand me thatmeter, will you?"
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 sanddunes. Then they spread out in line abreast and rushed towards theirgoal.
Telt hummed to himself hoarsely as he drove. He broke off suddenlyand looked at Brion. "What you want the dead Dis for?"
"A theory," Brion answered sluggishly. He had been half napping inthe chair, taking the opportunity for some rest before the attack."I'm still looking for a way to avert the end."
"You and Hys," Telt said with satisfaction. "Couple of idealists.Trying to stop a war you didn't start. They never would listen toHys. He told them in the beginning exactly what would happen, andhe was right. They always thought his ideas were crooked, like him.Growing up alone in the hill camp, with his back too twisted and tooold to be fixed when he finally did come out. Ideas twisted the sameway. Made himself an authority on war. Hah! War on Nyjord--that'slike being an ice-cube specialist in hell. But he knew all about it,though they never would let him use what he knew. Put granddaddyKrafft in charge instead."
"But Hys is in charge of an army now?"
"All volunteers, too few of them and too little money. Too littleand too damned late to do any good. I'll tell you we did our best,but it could never be good enough. And for this we get calledbutchers." There was a catch in Telt's voice now, an undercurrent ofemotion he couldn't suppress. "At home they think we like to kill.Think we're insane. They can't understand we're doing the only thingthat has to be done--"
He broke off as he quickly locked on the brakes and killed theengine. The line of sand cars had come to a stop. Ahead, justvisible over the dunes, was the summit of a dark tower.
"We walk from here," Telt said, standing and stretching. "We cantake our time, because the other boys go in first, soften things up.Then you and I head for the sub-cellar for a radiation check andfind you a handsome corpse."
Walking at first, then crawling when the dunes no longer shieldedthem, they crept up on the Disan keep. Dark figures moved ahead ofthem, stopping only when they reached the crumbling black walls.They didn't use the ascending ramp, but made their way up the sheeroutside face of the ramparts.
"Line-throwers," Telt whispered. "Anchor themselves when the missilehits, have some kind of quick-setting goo. Then we go up thefilament with 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. "Shouldbe right about here."
High-pitched keening sliced the air and the top of the magterbuilding burst into flame. Automatic weapons hammered above them.Something fell silently through the night and hit heavily on theground near them.
"Attack's started," Telt shouted. "We have to get through now,while all the creepies are fighting it out on top." He pulleda plate-shaped object from one of his bags and slapped it hardagainst the wall. It hung there. He twisted the back of it, pulledsomething and waved Brion to the ground. "Shaped charge. Should blowstraight in, but you never can tell."
The ground jumped under them and the ringing thud was a giant fistpunching through the wall. A cloud of dust and smoke rolled clearand they could see the dark opening in the rock, a tunnel driveninto the wall by the directional force of the explosion. Telt shonea light through the hole at the crumbled chamber inside.
"Nothing to worry about from anybody who was leaning against thiswall. But let's get in and out of this black beehive before the onesupstairs come down to investigate."
Shattered rock was thick on the floor, and they skidded and tumbledover it. Telt pointed the way with his light, down a sharply angledramp. "Underground chambers in the rock. They always store theirstuff down there--"
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 itback into the dark opening of the tunnel. Telt hit the ground nextto him as the orange flame of an explosion burst below. Bits ofshrapnel rattled from the ceiling and wall behind them.
"Grenades!" Telt gasped. "They've only used them once before--can'thave many. Gotta warn Hys." He plugged a throat mike into thetransmitter on his tack and spoke quickly into it. There was astirring below and Brion poured a rain of fire into the tunnel.
"They're catching it bad on top, too! We gotta pull out. Go firstand I'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 the crumbled entrance as he talked.His back was turned when Brion fired. The magter had appearedsilently as the shadow of death. They charged without a sound,running with expressionless faces into the bullets. Two died atonce, curling and folding; the third one fell at Brion's feet. Shot,pierced, dying, but not yet dead. Leaving a crimson track, ithunched closer, lifting its knife to Brion. He didn't move. How manytimes must you murder a man? Or was it a man? His mind and bodyrebelled against the killing, and he was almost ready to acceptdeath 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 magterthrough the hole, their exposed backs crawling with the expectationof instant death. No further attack came as they ran from the tower,other than a grenade that exploded too far behind them to do anyharm.
One of the armored sand cars circled the keep, headlights blazing,keeping up a steady fire from its heavy weapons. The attackersclimbed into it as they beat a retreat. Telt and Brion draggedthe Disan behind them, struggling through the loose sand towardsthe circling car. Telt glanced over his shoulder and broke intoa shambling run.
"They're following us!" he gasped. "The first time they ever chasedus after 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 said sharply. "Let me have it." Hepulled the corpse away from the unresisting Telt and heaved itacross his own shoulders. "Now use your gun to cover us!"
Telt threw a rain of slugs back towards the dark figures followingthem. The dri
ver of the sand car must have seen the flare of theirfire, because the truck turned and started towards them. It brakedin a choking cloud of dust and ready hands reached to pull them up.Brion pushed the body in ahead of himself and scrambled after it.The truck engine throbbed and they 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 leavethe corpse behind," Telt told Brion. "You didn't believe me, didyou?"
"Yes," Brion said, holding the dead weight of the magter againstthe truck's side. "I thought you meant it."
"Ahhh," Telt protested, "you're as bad as Hys. You take thingstoo seriously."
Brion suddenly realized that he was wet with blood, his clothingsodden. His stomach rose at the thought and he clutched the edge ofthe sand car. Killing like this was too personal. Talkingabstractedly about a body was one thing, but murdering a man, thenlifting his dead flesh and feeling his blood warm upon you is anentirely different matter. But the magter weren't human, he knewthat. The thought was only mildly comforting.
After they had reached the other waiting sand cars, the raidingparty split up. "Each one goes in a different direction," Telt said,"so they can't track us to the base." He clipped a piece of papernext to the compass and kicked the motor into life. "We'll make abig U in the desert and end up in Hovedstad. I got the course here.Then I'll dump you and your friends and beat it back to our camp.You're not still burned 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 seethe sun 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 feelingof gloom. 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 wellup in the sky, the daily heat begun. Their course took them througha chain of low, flinty hills that cut their speed almost to zero.They ground ahead in low gear while Telt sweated and cursed,struggling with the controls. Then they were on firm sand andpicking up speed towards the city.
As soon as Brion saw Hovedstad clearly he felt a clutch of fear.From somewhere in the city a black plume of smoke was rising. Itcould have been one of the deserted buildings aflame, a minor blaze.Yet the closer they came, the greater his tension grew. Brion didn'tdare put it into words himself; it was Telt who vocalized thethought.
"A fire or something. Coming from your area, somewhere close toyour building."
Within the city they saw the first signs of destruction. Brokenrubble on the streets. The smell of greasy smoke in their nostrils.More and more people appeared, going in the same direction theywere. The normally deserted streets of Hovedstad were now almostcrowded. Disans, obvious by their bare shoulders, mixed with thefew offworlders who still remained.
Brion made sure the tarpaulin was well wrapped around the bodybefore they pushed the sand car 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 ourcars; we've raided them often enough." Turning a corner, he brakedsuddenly, mouth agape.
Ahead was destruction. Black, broken rubble had been churned intodesolation. It was still smoking, pink tongues of flame licking overthe ruins. A fragment of wall fell with a rumbling crash.
"It's your building--the Foundation building!" Telt shouted."They've been here ahead of us--must have used the radio to calla raid. They did a job, explosive of some kind."
Hope was dead. Dis was dead. In the ruin ahead, mixed and brokenwith other rubble, were the bodies of all the people who had trustedhim. Lea ... beautiful and cruelly dead Lea. Doctor Stine, hispatients, Faussel, all of them. He had kept them on this planet,and now they were dead. Every one of them. Dead.
Murderer!